#its just i know in my heart he is the most pretentious man ever

[virtualtyrant69]

people are too scared to admit that crosshair would be an obnoxious film bro in modern aus instead of like, some cool emo/punk guy

[jungkookschin]

demigod trials: lust of ichor | five

synopsis: you and jungkook are invited to an extravagant party on mount olympus, ofc you're gonna go all out !

word count: 10k

pairings: son of ares!taehyung x daugher of heaphaestus!reader

genre: cute, SMUT (non explicit), fluff, action

warnings: mentions of apollo being creepy :( (watches jk and yn during seggs), mentions of killing, lots of action

author's note: sooo im back!! this is gonna be very fluffy, but.... the next few chapters are going to be action packed!!

demigod trials masterlist

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | 3.5 | four | five

Your eyes sleepily gloss over the invitation. 

You are invited to our 2000th year anniversary party on Mount Olympus!

A+H

The invitation is made from gold leaf parchment paper, with intricate swirls decorating its edges,  fit only for a Mount Olympus event. 

All you can do is sigh. Of course the gods, in their pretentious nature, would take the time to throw an opulent and extravagant party for a couple who aren’t even together- Aphrodite has been cheating on your father Hephaestus with Jungkook’s father Ares for thousands of years. 

You glance at Jungkook, who can’t help but laugh when you roll your eyes into your skull.  You daintily fall back onto the pillow like the true inferno princess you are before pulling the sheets to your chin. Jungkook puts a knee on the bed, using his palm to sweep back your hair- revealing your pretty forehead. 

“Big ass forehead,” he mumbles, booping your nose with his pointer finger when you start pouting. 

After fourteen hours of sleep in the Hypnos cabin, you’re as revitalized as if you’ve been kissed by Morpheus himself. The sun seeps through the curtains and casts an otherworldly glow on your man, who looks as handsome as ever as he peers down on you with love (even with the toothpaste dripping from his mouth).

Jungkook saunters back into the restroom to spit into the sink, cleaning his mouth before setting his toothbrush on the edge of the sink. He clumsily grabs toner from his bag, splashing it onto his palms before he pats the serum into his face. 

You turn on your side, your eyes glazing over him as he looks into the mirror, thoroughly completing his (probably unnecessary) meticulous skin care regiment. And you don’t mean to succumb to misogyny by shaming him for doing something that would otherwise be considered feminine- you’re suggesting that it’s unnecessary because he’s already perfect. 

Jungkook is quite literally half-god. He’s handsome- unbelievably so and you really really think that he’ll continue to be his perfect self for the rest of eternity. He certainly doesn’t need to pat chemicals into his skin to look better. 

His gaze trails towards you, “What? I can’t try to look good for my girl?”

You know he’s half-joking, but you don’t have the heart to even entertain it. “You’re already handsome,” you respond, “You’re perfect. Most handsome guy I’ve ever seen,” you say sitting up on the bed as you rake your fingers through your hair. 

He looks at you from where he’s standing in the bathroom. “Gods, stop being so cute.”

With that, he crawls onto the bed, his face dangerously close to yours as he kisses you. His big strong hands find solace on your upper back as he gently lays you on the bed, lips never leaving yours.

He smothers you with his lips, not even letting you breathe. He laughs, removing his tongue from your mouth before he puckers against your lips and just sloppily shakes his head from side to side.

You giggle against his lips, unable to catch a breath when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. You can’t breathe, but that’s okay. When Jungkook kisses you, you feel so complete, so full that you don’t even need oxygen to survive. He gets you all discomposed, and warm and you love it. Maybe you have an asphyxiation kink or something. 

And apparently he does something to you because it induces a physical reaction from you and  you end up blowing out the tiniest of flames from your nose. The slightest gasp leaves your lips. 

Jungkook pulls back, brows furrowing slightly while he stares down at you. 

You theatrically pout, “I don’t know what happened.”

“Someone’s hot and bothered,” he teases, “Lemme fix that for you baby,” he coos, using his pointer finger and thumb to plug your nose.

Leave it to Jungkook to stick his fingers into your nose. Any normal person would complain about germs blah blah blah or say it’s disgusting blah blah blah but Jungkook isn’t a normal person- he is crazily in love. Compared to slaying monsters in Tartarus? Sticking his fingers in your nose was nothing. He’d wipe your ass with his bare hands if warranted.

“That’s disgusting,” you say, holding onto his wrist.

He mocks you in a nasally voice. “That’s disgusting. Shut up. Let’s go take a shower.”

At that, you instantly perk up. It’s only a well known, common fact that all men look better when they’re wet. And it’s not like you check out other men besides Jungkook, but it’s just a fact. 

Maybe it’s something in the water, but whenever a man re-emerges from water, he somehow transforms into a better version of his normal, ugly, man-like self. Consider it the baptism of allure, where droplets of water enhance masculine features and draw out irresistible magnetism. 

He always emerges from Taehyung’s pool with water dripping from his hair, down his ripping abs, lower, and lower, and you have to resist the urge to lick each and every droplet up. But now, your eyes are only on Jungkook so you instantly perk up, nodding like a puppy when he makes the suggestion. 

He raises his brows at you, beckoning you towards him, and you instantly follow him, throwing your (his) shirt off to join him in the shower. 

Sometimes, you lose yourself in Jungkook. In a world where you’re consistently exposed to monsters who want to eat you, Olympians who want to take advantage of you, and primordial gods who want to kill you for entering their domain (😃),  Jungkook is your solace. 

He holds you like you’re the wings of Icarus, lifting you with a tender strength that dares to defy earthly constraints as he lifts you towards the sun, towards celestial heights. To Jungkook, you are more precious than every ancient relic the gods send demigods on quests after, and he will treat you with such care. 

Another thing is, Jungkook is obsessed with your body- and not because your physical features fall in line with societal standards- but because it’s yours. Every curve, line, and proportion is there because of the things your everyday mannerisms- slashing your sword against his during play fights, slamming your hammer against your anvil,  or running around the training grounds at Camp Half-Blood. 

And with all the training you do, one would think that you would at least come close to his strength, but for some reason you don’t even hold a candle, which is how he easily holds you up, your back pressed against the shower walls with your legs hooked around his waist.

The way Jungkook loves is fiery, hot, intense, just like the way he drinks you up, not allowing you to catch a breath; he doesn’t care if you end up breathing fire into his mouth because he knows he can take it.

When he’s satisfied with your lips, he easily hoists you up, legs resting on your shoulders so he can devour your essence. His eyes remain on you, melting at the way your eyes roll back when he sucks on you just right. 

It’s been years since he’s done this, and he vividly remembers how you just can’t remain composure when Jungkook plays with your body just right. Your eyes are lidded, and you’re losing yourself in pleasure, the sweetest moans leaving your lips.

Jungkook is so good at this, knows how to manipulate your body just right to elicit the sweetest pleasure from your body. “Play with yourself,” he instructs, to which you instantly gush, your hands weakly coming up to tweak at your chest. 

Jungkook’s chest tightens at that. He wants to draw out every inch of pleasure possible, and that’s exactly what he does. When he finally takes you, his eyes remain on yours, and he tells you to keep your eyes open every time they squeeze from pleasure. 

You grab his face, eyes sultrily following his lips, nose, and eyes. “I want to be with you here, forever.” You draw his face to yours, kissing him languidly, and Jungkook thinks he’ll finish right then and there. 

The water cascades down your bodies, falling into your mouths and into every crevice of your body, and right then you’re content. 

-

Jungkook knows that you get tired after sex, so when he sees all the indicators: your eyes becoming lidded, your posture becoming disoriented- he catches you when you fall into his arms. He smiles to himself, can’t believe that you fell asleep right there in the middle of the shower with the warm water falling on your skin. 

Sleeping with wet hair is a no-no, so he carries you bridal style from the shower and to the bed, letting your rest between your legs and against his chest while he uses a hair dryer to dry your hair. You’re out like a light, and he’s okay with that because all he really wants for you is to get as much rest and peace as possible.  

He uses Hypnos’ Sleepy Milk to sedate you further- to the point where you’re snoring with your eyes and mouth open, another indicator that you aren’t going to wake up in a while.  

Who knows what’s yet to come? Sooner or later, you’ll make a trip to the  Underworld to look for the missing children of Hades- or worse- you’ll return to Tartarus to finally face your final foe. 

While you’re with him, the very least he can do is give you pleasure and peace. His girl has saved the world multiple times, she doesn’t need to be a superhero when she’s with him. 

The truth is, during your 14 hours of blissful sleep the previous, Jungkook didn’t get a wink. He refused to take a sip of Hypnos’s sleeping potion. Jungkook always tells you to rest- demigods aren’t invincible, but he’s a hypocrite in the sense that he actually believes that he doesn’t need to sleep.

Being the child of  the war god, he inherits not only the genetic makeup of a warrior capable of staying awake for days, but also the discipline to function without the need for sleep. 

He loves you to death, but you’re incredibly stubborn. He knows that you’ll put yourself in danger if it means saving your friends’ lives, and he simply isn’t going to let that happen. 

During the war with Gaia, he wasn’t smart enough to defeat the primordial goddess- but this time he’ll be prepared. 

Jungkook thinks he’ll stay up a little longer, tweaking his battle plans to perfection, but a simple glance your way disorients him completely. Even with the sleeping potion coursing through your body, you reach towards him, mumbling the drowsiest and cutest “Sleep with me, Kook.”

Okay… maybe he does need sleep. 

He has no choice but to oblige, joining you under the covers while he holds you to his chest, limbs intertwined and hearts beating in unison. 

-

Abruptly your eyes snap open, and you find yourself in Tartarus. The jagged terrain and blood red sky are instantly recognizable, but the air feels heavier, infused with a sense of dread that grips your chest. The pointed cliffs loom overhead, casting desolate shadows across the horizon. 

During yours and Jungkook’s trip to Tartarus, you encountered the Arai. 

According to Greek mythology, the Arai are vengeful spirits that lay in Tartarus, embodying curses and grievances. With every strike Jungkook delivered to an Arai, he willingly absorbed the curse they carried.

When the spirits encircled you during your first trip to Tartarus, it took you a minute to figure out what exactly the spirits were. Jungkook slashed at the first Arai, which turned out to embody the curse of unending agony.

 The curse manifested as excruciating pain that caused Jungkook’s muscles to spasm uncontrollably. He instantly fell to the ground, writhing in pain- you had never seen him like that. 

The excruciation twisted his features into agony, his breaths ragged and shallow as he struggled against the torment. Nearly driven to the brink of unconsciousness, he somehow overcame the sensation, summoning every ounce of his inner strength to rise to his feet. 

With the greatest determination, he unleashed a flurry of strikes, dispatching each Arai with swift precision. 

In other words, it was traumatizing. He took on every curse each Arai embodied, and it almost killed him. 

You felt so useless; you hadn’t a clue how to contribute because you were paralyzed with fear. You genuinely thought he was going to die in your arms until he didn’t. He rose to his feet like nothing happened and you both continued on your mission to the Doors of Death. 

Shift back to present day. 

As you turn your gaze 90 degrees, you behold yourself (Mark) and Jungkook (Jungwon) ensnared within the encircling grasp of the Arai yet again. You were so lost in Jungkook you forgot that you just condemned your own brother to the depths of Tartarus in your stead. 

You scream at Mark and Jungwon who are disguised as you and Jungkook to run. After years of studying Tartarus, you still aren’t sure how Jungkook overcame the Arai and you’d rather not take your chances with Mark and Jungwon.

Nonetheless, Mark and Jungwon should be aware of what the Arai are, and you think everything’s going to be okay until Jungwon unsheathes his sword Cataclysm and slashes at an Arai, falling to his feet and writhing in agony just as Jungkook did years before. 

You scream, but you’re paralyzed with fear, rendering you unable to move.

Mark looks around in confusion, his expression shifting as he witnesses Jungwon's sudden collapse. 

Desperation tugs at your senses as you try to muster the strength to move, to intervene somehow, but again, fear renders you immobile. 

“Y/N wake up!” Suddenly, Jungkook’s urgent voice cuts through Tartarus’s sky, amplifying in volume before it penetrates the atmosphere. 

With a jolt, your eyes snap open, and in an instant Tartarus dissipates like a fleeting dream and is replaced with the cozy blankets of Hypnos’s cabin. 

Blinking rapidly, you find yourself lying in bed, the soft glow of the setting sun filtering through the window. The echoes of Jungkook's voice still reverberate in your mind, your head fuzzy and unclear as you process what you just witnessed.

As awareness floods back into your senses, you take in the surroundings—the cozy warmth of the blankets cocooning you, the faint scent of lavender wafting through the air from nearby candles, and the reassuring presence of Jungkook by your side.

With a steadying breath, you turn towards him, finding solace in the way he cradles your face and looks down on you with concern. His eyes search for yours for any sign of distress, and relief washes over you as you realize you’re with him.

"Are you alright?" Jungkook's voice is soft, laced with genuine worry as he reaches out to gently brush a strand of hair from your face.

You nod, offering him a reassuring smile despite the lingering unease that clings to your thoughts. 

You pause. 

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

The urgency in your voice is palpable as you discard the blanket with a swift motion of your forearm.

“We need to get to Bunker 9,” you insist, your voice laced with desperation as you pluck your discarded clothes from the ground. You hastily begin to dress yourself, pulling your panties through your legs as images of Jungwon and Mark with the Arai flood your mind. 

“I had a dream,” you explain, tripping as you shove your legs through your pant holes. Luckily, Jungkook catches you, like he always does.

“Jungwon and Mark met the Arai, Jungkook. They’re not going to survive- I mean I thought that you killed them all when we were there, but clearly they’re still in Tartarus and they’re about to curse our brothers and they could die. We need to get there immediately- we shouldn’t have ever sent them in our place in the first place-”

Lost in your urgency, you're unaware of your own rambling until Jungkook's puzzled expression catches your attention. He retrieves his phone, presenting you with a screen displaying the data transmitted by Mark and Jungwon's rings. “It says that they’re still falling,” he explains, “falling into Tartarus, I mean,” he elaborates when your eyebrows furrow. 

You hastily throw a shirt over your head, before letting out a breathless “What?” 

Jungkook sighs, sitting on the bed before pulling you onto his lap. “Baby, I think you’re anxious.”

“Of course I am!” you groan, “We spent the whole day fucking instead of doing anything!” you mumble in distress, closing your eyes when Jungkook gives you a comforting squeeze. 

“You needed to rest,” Jungkook reasons, “Nothing’s going to get done if you’re not in the proper state of mind. When we get to Olympus for the anniversary party, we can get extra intel about the children of Hades,” he states matter of factly, the confidence in his voice assuaging you and bringing you down from your anxious high. 

You gulp. “Is that tonight?” 

“Mm-hmm,” you feel Jungkook hum into your neck. 

“Fuck, they don’t give us any time,” you grumble.

“That’s a good thing, baby. You have more time to get ready. We’ll leave in an hour.” With that, his large hand cradles your chin and he turns your head towards him, capturing your lips in a deep kiss, taking your breath away. 

He pulls back, closing his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours. “You need to breathe,” he urges, “You’re not in this alone. You have all of us looking out for you. You have me. I’d never let anything happen to you-”

“What about Mark and Jungwon?”

“I’d never let anything happen to them either,” he declares, “Now get ready baby. You need to be in the right state of mind if we’re going to investigate Olympus.” 

He gives you one last comforting smile and you can’t help but grab his face to kiss him again. Gods, you love this man. 

-

Everybody knows that if you want a makeover, you can head to the Aphrodite cabin for a full glam makeover for the reasonable price of 5 drachmas.

When Aphrodite kids graduate from Camp Half-Blood and choose to live in the mortal world, they typically become celebrity stylists, word-class MUA’s, or nail techs for the hugest pop stars.

Luckily, the Aphrodite cabin is a few strides away from the Hypnos cabin, so after tiptoeing out of the Hypnos cabin (to not wake anybody up), you join hands with Jungkook to knock on the door 18+ Aphrodite Cabin. 

The 18+ Aphrodite Cabin is akin to a real life Barbie Dreamhouse. 

As visitors come near the cabin's entrance, they see a lovely doorway with flowers all around it. Wisteria vines wrap around the frame, with clusters of lavender flowers hanging down. Pots filled with ivy and petunias sit by the door, making the scene even more charming and magical.

The sun is setting, and the Aphrodite garden looks beautiful- the kids say one hasn’t truly experienced Camp Half-Blood without taking a peek at the Aphrodite garden. 

You’ve also heard that deep within the garden lies a popular makeout spot for the kids- but honestly you’re too old for that and you don’t wanna know about it. 

The door to the Aphrodite cabin swings open, and you’re met with none other than Vivian. Vivian, daughter of Aphrodite, is around the same age as you and Jungkook, making her one of the oldest girls in the Aphrodite cabin. 

She is the epitome of a daughter of Aphrodite- her skin practically glows with radiance and her features appear like they were delicately sculpted by Aphrodite herself. While some of the Aphrodite kids are certainly stuck up,  Vivian was not among them. Sure, she was snarky at times, but nothing she ever says is with malicious intent. 

The thing is, Jungkook used to fuck around with so many Aphrodite girls, and you just can’t remember if she was one of those girls. 

You whip your head towards Jungkook, frowning with suspicion when he seems overly fascinated with the wisteria vines hanging from the walls. 

You sigh. 

“Hey Viv,” you greet, giving her a friendly hug, “We’re going to a party on Olympus in like- an hour. Can you help us get ready? I know it’s super last minute but-”

She drops her jaw, giving you the Are you serious? look. “Can I help you get ready? Don’t you know we pay people to wear AphroditeWear at fancy events? The Grammy’s, the Oscars.. So a party on Mount Olympus would be…. amazing.”

You smile. “Thanks Viv. Can you squeeze my fiance in too?” you ask, gesturing towards Jungkook. 

Vivan freezes, and she meets eyes with Jungkook. You feel a tangible shift in the atmosphere and it fills you with the faintest sense of unease. 

Nonetheless, Vivian’s features soften and she pulls you in for another hug. “Congratulations Y/N. I’m glad you guys finally made it official. I can take care of you and I’ll have Michael do a fitting with Jungkook.”

You thank her and she smiles with the utmost hospitality, opening the door wider for you and Jungkook to enter. Jungkook holds the door open for you, giving Vivian a tight-lipped smile, “Thanks, Vivian.”

Not the government name. 

Jungkook is immediately whisked away by Michael, a son of Aphrodite who is seemingly in charge of men’s styling while you are sat down at the salon. 

You brush the nonexistent dust from your pants and take a deep breath before you look around. 

The salon is amazing, with plush seating, ornate areas, and soft candlelight. There’s a skincare section, spa chairs for manis and pedis, and of course, the hair styling chair, where you’re currently sitting. 

Vivian doesn’t waste time, curling your hair into voluminous curls that cascade down your shoulders. She applies makeup to  accentuate your features with a subtle smokey eye and a hint of rosy blush that adds a touch of warmth to your complexion. 

“I heard some shit is going down at Camp Jupiter,” Viv starts, “You’ve gone through so much, I imagine that you’d be desensitized to- like- emotion,” she shrugs. 

Your lips curl up slightly. You get what she means. After literally experiencing death, seeing your friends die in battle, and saving the world three times, you’ve seen a lot. Sometimes, you do feel like you’re heartless- or you don’t have the capacity to feel. 

You used to think that you wouldn’t feel as devastated if your friends died in war because of the dozens of close calls. Perhaps Jungkook changed the tide. You don’t think the intensity of your feelings of him ever changed- you just got good at not letting them affect you. 

“But you seem pretty in love, so I guess not,” Vivian shrugs, shaking a bottle of hairspray.

You tilt your head, “How can you tell?”

“Oh please, I’m a daughter of Aphrodite. I can tell you’re head over heels,” she smiles, spraying your hair with the hairspray. “It makes me happy seeing you happy,” she continues, “You locked yourself up in the forge for like a year and nobody ever saw you. We all thought you were depressed.”

You laugh at that. 

“Oh by the way,” Vivian continues, “I heard a rumor that one of my sisters is dating one of your brothers,” she points out. 

“What? No way. Who?”

“Mark,” she promptly responds, “I think I can sense that she and Mark have something going on, I just know it.”

You shake your head. “Mark is single. I’m 1000% sure. There’s no way he would date someone without telling me.”

Vivian tilts her head, “Are you sure you’re not being naive? Mark might be a freak-”

“Gods, never say that in front of me again.”

Vivian giggles, and the conversation continues with ease. 

You itch to ask Vivian about whether or not- in simple terms- she fucked your man. 

As his fiancée, you feel like you have a legitimate interest in knowing all the raunchy details of  his past relationships. Still, the last person you want to be is the overbearing partner who interrogates everyone (and everything) about his past relationships. 

Jungkook  is with you, and he loves you. You have absolutely nothing to worry about. 

It’s just that Viv is so pretty, lovely, and graceful. She’s quite literally the daughter of the goddess of beauty while your father is known for being so hideously ugly that his mother threw him off Mount Olympus. 

Vivian’s words pull you from your trance. “So what color dress are you thinking?” she calls from Aphrodite’s closet, which is stocked with luxurious dresses and gowns. 

You bite your lip nervously, staring at your reflection in the mirror. Honestly, you haven’t inherited any of your father’s ugly genes, but Viv objectively did look better than you. 

“I think gold would look nice on you,” she adds, “You can never go wrong with a sexy gold evening gown.”

She unveils a stunning gown made from shimmering gold mesh, featuring an elegant sweetheart neckline. Adorned with glittering embellishments, this dress leaves a magical trail of fairy dust with every  step. The bodice and lower regions of the dress are discreetly covered, while the remainder delicately reveals sheer fabric, adding a touch of allure to its design. 

“She’s not wearing that,” Jungkook strides into the room, fitted with a charcoal-gray suit. The jacket is slim and modern cut, accentuating his broad shoulders while his crisp white button up adds a hint of elegance. 

He looks incredibly handsome, and it nearly takes your breath away. 

Vivian gives Jungkook a distasteful look. “And why wouldn’t she wear it? You’re going to a party on Mount Olympus. She needs something extravagant.”

Jungkook marches over to you, placing a protective hand on your shoulder. “It's too revealing.”

You lock eyes with Viv for a mere second before she rolls her eyes to the back of her skull. “Never thought you were the conservative type, Jeon- but whatever, do as you please. I think Y/N would look nice in it.”

Jungkook looks at you and bends down to give you the softest of kisses. “You look so pretty, baby.”

“You too,” you whisper back, “But Jungkook, can’t I try it on?” You pout at him slightly, looking up at him with puppy eyes.

Normally, Jungkook doesn’t care about your choice of attire, but there are a few aspects that leave him with unease. 

For one, this particular party is being held on Mount Olympus with various gods- gods with lustful gazes that have free reign to do whatever they want whenever they want. 

After Rose, daughter of Apollo, tackled you at Camp Jupiter and accused you of trying to sleep with her father, he knew that even the gods had their eyes on you, which bothered him immensely. 

It’s like he’s pulled from a trance. 

“No.”

You frown at him. “What?”

“You’re not wearing the dress, Y/N. Find something else.”

“But I like the dress, Jungkook,” you counter. 

“You can wear it. With me. In the Ares cabin. But you’re not wearing it to Olympus.”

Your jaw drops. “I don’t need your permission to do anything! I can wear what I want whenever I want. I’m my own person!”

Jungkook sighs, running his palm over his facial features, “Okay, then wear the dress. But as your fiance, I would appreciate it if you didn’t wear it. It’s up to you.”

“Oh c’mon asshole,” Vivian cuts in, “Just let her try it on.”

You nod in concurrence. “C’mon Kook, please?”

His gaze softens as he sweetly gazes down at you, torn between his protective instincts and his desire to see you happy. With a sigh, he relents, knowing that you'll try it on regardless of his opinion. "It’s up to you," he murmurs, his hand tenderly brushing against your cheek.

You smile gratefully and nod, appreciating his concern. "It’ll look good," you assure him, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his lips.

Of course he knows it’ll look good. That isn’t the concern. 

After all, Jungkook is getting stronger each day, and he would gladly kill a god for checking you out with lustful eyes. 

He locks eyes with Vivian, who raises her brows, frowning, “Aren’t you going to leave?”

Jungkook scowls. “What? I can be in here while she’s changing. She’s the future mother of my kids.”

Vivian’s features curl in distaste. “Okay, well it’s against policy for men to be in girls’ changing rooms so you need to leave.”

Jungkook nonchalantly shrugs. “Who cares? We saved the world twice- just let us be.”

Vivian's frustration boils over and she shoots him a pointed glare. “You always start shit then act like you didn’t just start shit!"

Jungkook scoffs, “Who’s starting shit? What I care about is my fiance and whether or not she feels comfortable in this dress,” he enunciates, redirecting his attention towards you, his words becoming softer and sweeter, “Go on and change babygirl, I’ll be waiting here.”

You blink your lashes, entirely confused for the situation at hand, but you still follow Viv towards the changing rooms, holding your tongue before you say anything you regret. 

Vivian looks peeved as ever, smoothing out the dress gently, a direct juxtaposition to the way she curses between gritted teeth.  “Gods, I hate that guy,” she seethes. 

She takes a moment to collect herself before sighing deeply. “Sorry Y/N. He’s good to you and that’s all that matters,” she expresses with sincerity, instructing you to swivel around to wrap the fabric around your frame. 

You shake your head. “No…” you murmur, “It’s fine. I just wanna know what the beef is… I guess,” you finally bring yourself to ask. 

Viv releases a soft gasp, “That’s right,” she exclaims, like she’s reached a damning realization, “You don’t know what happened.”

You purse your lips and prepare yourself for what’s coming. 

“While you were on Olympus for your internship, that  motherfucker lit our garden on fire! He damn near almost burned down the entire garden! Girl, it was a whole thing. The Ares and Aphrodite cabins were at war. Shit only cleared up when Ares and Aphrodite themselves visited Camp Half-Blood and Aphrodite restored our garden.”

You blink, processing everything before you burst into the hugest smile. 

“Hey!” Viv exclaims, swatting at your bicep, “It’s not funny!”

You force your lips into a straight line, traces of your smile still bursting through the cracks. You wrap your hand around the circumference of her wrist. “No, it’s not that,” you explain, “I just thought that- that you and Jungkook may have, you know…”

Viv takes a moment to process your words before she gasps the loudest gasp you’ve ever heard. “Absolutely not!” she exclaims. 

“Back in high school, Jungkook sister-hopped Seraphina and Lillian,” Vivian continues, “We all made a binding vow to never let him date any of us again.”

You playfully shake your head at the thought. It’s almost unfathomable to picture the entire Aphrodite cabin gathering to scheme against Jungkook. 

“He didn’t want any of us anyways. He’s only ever wanted you. I think the entire camp knows that.” The way she smiles at you is almost motherly, and a wave of fondness washes over you. 

“He had a girlfriend for like a year after I died,” you point out. 

She scoffs, “Oh please. We all know that Sof was a rebound. Love her, but she was a rebound.”

As Vivian finishes adjusting the straps of your gown, her expression softens, and she meets your gaze with a  smile. "But enough about him. Let's focus on you and make sure you feel amazing in this dress."

You nod, grateful for her understanding and support. Vivian would always be Vivian "Thank you, Viv.”

Moments later, you emerge from the dressing room, the golden gown hugging your curves and shimmering under the lights. Jungkook's breath catches in his throat as he takes in your breathtaking appearance, his chest tightening from how beautiful you are .

"You look stunning," he breathes, stepping forward to take your hand in his. "Absolutely breathtaking."

A blush tinges your cheeks as you twirl in front of him, the sheer fabric dancing around you like a cascade of golden sunlight. "Do you really think so?" you ask, a hint of uncertainty in your voice.

Jungkook's eyes soften as he cups your face in his hands, his gaze unwavering. "Of course, stupid," he murmurs, voice filled with love despite him calling you stupid. His thumb brushes gently against your cheek. "But more importantly, you feel comfortable, right?"

You nod, motioning towards Vivian. "I feel great, all thanks to Viv," you say, prompting Jungkook.

Jungkook smiles at Vivian, expressing his gratitude. "Thank you for helping her," he says sincerely, before turning his gaze back to you, admiration evident in his eyes.

In that moment, you realize the depth of Jungkook's love for you – you’re always his first priority. 

Vivian gives you one last hug and sends you on your way towards Olympus. 

-

You and Jungkook have done this thousands of times. The quickest way to get to Mount Olympus is through the Empire State Building, of course.

Camp Half-Blood, situated along the shores of Long Island, is approximately a twenty-minute drive from the Empire State Building—though with Jungkook's motorcycle, the journey can be completed in just ten minutes

On Jungkook's 18th birthday, his father Ares bestowed upon him a celestial bronze Rolex watch that could transform into a motorcycle with a simple press of a button.

You’re cruising through the streets of New York City, your head resting against his back, and suddenly you’re home. You experience the same rush of nostalgia that filled you when you were 19, gliding through the slopes of Athens.

The wind blows through your hair as you take in the stars and the sparkling lights of New York City, making the city look even more beautiful.

With your fingers intertwined, Jungkook and you step into the doors of the Empire State Building. You slide the bellman a drachma and instruct him to send you to the 600th floor, which he does so after ensuring that no mortals catch heed to your conversation. 

Jungkook can’t help but admire you because gods you in that dress is the biggest temptation he’s ever witnessed.

The elevator doors slide open, revealing the most extravagant party you’ve ever witnessed. The entirety of Mount Olympus has been transformed into a breathtaking spectacle of opulence and grandeur. 

Nymphs dance gracefully alongside the procession, their laughter ringing through the air like tinkling bells. Centaurs trot majestically, adorned with garlands of flowers and draped in vibrant fabrics. Satyrs play lively tunes on their panpipes, their merry melodies adding to the festive atmosphere.

Above, pegasi soar through the sky, their majestic wings carrying them gracefully as they hold flags adorned with the emblem of love. 

Someone clears their throat, and you turn your head to witness Eurus, god of the East wind descending on a cloud towards you and Jungkook. When you squint your eyes, you see that he has a clipboard in his hand, and you tilt your head in curiosity. 

“Name?” he asks hastily. 

You exchange a bewildered glance with Jungkook before finally finding your voice. "Uh, Y/N," you manage to stammer out, still trying to process the surreal situation.

"Eurus, pleased to meet you," the god replies with a polite nod, though his tone remains impatient. He quickly scans his clipboard before finding your name and checking it off with a flourish.

"And you?" Eurus turns his attention to Jungkook, who stands beside you, equally astonished by the encounter.

"Jungkook," he answers, his voice firm as he meets the god's gaze.

With a brisk nod, Eurus completes his task and gestures for you both to follow him. "Right this way," he says, leading you through the bustling crowds towards the heart of the festivities.

As you walk, you can't help but marvel at the absurdity of the situation. A god checking guests into a party on Mount Olympus? It's unlike anything you could have ever imagined. 

“Hmmm, daughter of Hephaestus,” Eurus thinks aloud, “You and your,” he looks at Jungkook before sneering, “boyfriend are the only demigods invited to this event. Is there a reason for that?”

Jungkook contorts his face, and you respond before he can say anything too rash. “Because we’re in love, and this is a celebration of love,” you say with a sweet smile. 

Eurus smirks at that. “Oh really? This is a celebration of love? Young daughter of Hephaestus, I know that you are no fool. Aphrodite and Hephaestus are hardly in love,” he expresses matter-a-factly, banging his head against his nifty clipboard. 

"I can't fathom why the gods deemed it necessary to assign me the mundane task of checking in a couple who aren't even together!," Eurus grumbles, gesticulating animatedly. "I've been looking forward to my day off all year long!" 

With a resigned sigh, he holds up his clipboard, which morphs into a miniature screen displaying a woman delivering a weather report. "Breaking news: Not a breeze in sight today! Zero wind, absolutely none!"

"See?" Eurus concedes with a frustrated wave of his hand, prompting you will yourself from laughing at how absurd this all is. 

"And that's not all," Eurus continues with exasperation evident in his voice, "I've been tasked with keeping Ares away from the gala all day, which, let me tell you, is no small feat. I mean, he's the god of war! How am I supposed to keep him from sneaking around?" He turns his head theatrically towards Jungkook. 

“Which is why I don’t understand why they would let you in!” he sneers. 

Jungkook shrugs, seemingly amused by Eurus’s anger. “Hephaestus loves me. He practically begged me to marry his daughter,” making you playfully roll your eyes as you nudge him with your elbow. 

Eurus gasps scandalously, “He would do no such thing!”

Eurus guides you towards the gala hall, and you can’t help but do a double-take when you see something out of the ordinary (?)

Towards the left of the entrance sits Ares, the god of the war, trapped in a net, thrashing around to break free. He roars in frustration before his pupils explode into flames, and it tells you everything you need to know. The whole pupils exploding into fire was a mannerism Jungkook adopted from his father- and it only happened when he became extremely angry. 

You glance at Jungkook, who is really trying to hide his satisfaction under a mask of concern. He stays stoic, staring at the wall behind Ares and you can’t help but think he looks cute trying to be all serious. 

Jungkook clears his throat,  "Need a hand, Dad?"

“Absolutely not!” Eurus cuts in, “I had to look for this net in Hephaesteus’s junkyard for hours! It’s the only thing that will contain him. He stays in the net-”

“I’ll kill you right now, asshole!” Ares seethes, eliciting a yelp from Eurus. 

At that moment, you connect the dots, realizing that Ares is currently trapped in the same net your father used to catch Aphrodite and Ares in “the act.” You step forward, running your fingers over the net. 

Hephaestus catching Aphrodite and Ares is a classic Greek tale, but you always wondered how your father created such a net to contain the god of war.

The rope is intricately designed, something you assume was woven from enchanted threads. The rope is also infused with celestial bronze, but you still don’t see how it could trap not one but two gods. Your father is truly a genius. 

Ares bares his teeth at Eurus, who squeals and runs away, probably back to his post at the entrance of Mount Olympus. 

Ares pauses, looking you up and down before he licks his lips. “Damn kid, this your bitch? She’s fine as fuck.” 

At that, Jungkook’s amused smile drops, and he instinctively intertwines his fingers through yours. 

Jungkook's unresolved issues with his father stem from how he mistreated his mother, who was deeply traumatized by the aftermath of Ares's “love”. Only when his mother found love with another man did Jungkook find it in himself to leave her.

His negative behaviors from youth, such as literally playing the entire Aphrodite cabin and his predisposition towards violence can be traced back to Ares's poor parenting and the trauma of his childhood. 

In fact, he’s  only considered Ares’s favorite because of his talent as a warrior, not because Ares actually cares.

He only really grew up because he wanted to be a man for you. You were the epitome of “I can change him”. 

Nonetheless, he felt an inexplicable amount of anger when anyone said anything about you. You’re practically famous around Camp Half-Blood, so he expects people to talk, but hearing this from his own father- he can’t fathom the audacity. 

“You’re literally trapped in a net.”

Ares clenches his jaw. “And? I’ll beat your ass the second I’m outta here.”

Junngkook says nothing, and if anything, his expression conveys a sheen of sadness. Who wants to be spoken to this way by their own father?

After a moment,  Ares finally gives in.  “Alright, I’m sorry kid,” he pleads, “Just let me outta here. Do it for your old man, eh?”

Jungkook remains stoic, staring blankly at Ares. 

“Y/N,” Ares snaps, “I remember you, Hephaestus’s prized daughter. You  got to know a way to get me out of here, right? Do it for your father-in-law!”

You say nothing, tilting your head towards Jungkook. 

“Oh c’mon!” Ares continues, “My girl’s in there! Aphrodite’s my girl! I can’t just keep her in there with Hephaestus!”

In that moment, you realize how much of a gift mortality is. Immortals with godly powers often lack a reason to be kind, as the gods themselves are quite messy.

They didn’t value each other, didn’t value human life- because they didn’t have to. 

You look at your fiance, eyebrows furrowing as you recall when Jungkook was offered the opportunity to turn into a god. 

In history, demigods who fulfilled god-level quests were elevated to “god status”. This is the path Dionysus took to become an Olympian, and how Hercules ascended to godhood.

After saving the world from the titan Kronos at the age of 17, Zeus offered Jungkook the status of a god. You remember how nervous you were when you caught heed of Zeus’s proposal. At that time, you and Jungkook were caught at the beginning of your enemies to lovers transition, and as much as Jungkook annoyed you, you didn’t want him to leave you for Olympus. 

Jungkook became the first demigod to turn the proposition down. You always considered him to be an airhead, but perhaps this was the first moment you realized that there was something more inside his thick skull.

Jungkook treasures mortality, and you find that kinda hot. He finds pleasure in the sensation of a punch to his face, smirking with blood running down his nose.  He relishes in the risk of death during quests, understanding that nothing was assured and that he had to push himself for success. 

He isn’t a pussy who needs the safety net of immortality. He adores the sense of purpose imbued in his mortal existence.

Your man is insane and you love it. 

There’s just something so sexy about a man who has control over his own life. You’d much rather lounge on the shores of Elysium- and you will with Jungkook, your forever boy and two-time (soon to be three) savior of the world. 

-

Stepping into the gala hall, you’re met with the largest room you’ve ever been in. The grand ballroom is filled with minor gods, goddesses, and other mythical creatures dancing on the spacious dance floor. 

With your eyes glimmering at the grand decor and the live-cyclopes band, you need to remind yourself that the reason you’re even at this party is to collect intel on the missing children of Hades. 

You walk around, looking for clues on Hades’ whereabouts.  In situations like this, the symbol of Hades, a helm of darkness would randomly appear, but you aren’t seeing anything. 

Jungkook looks around, at the Greek pillars holding the infrastructure up, the waiters walking around with cups of ambrosia- hold on, is that satyr staring at your ass? 

Sometimes, you don’t realize how beautiful you are, and it bothers him. He thinks he should tell you that you should be more careful or to be more cognizant of your surroundings, but that’s what he’s here for. 

He casually wraps his arm around your waist and looks at anyone who looks at you. He doesn’t glare at the Cyclopes and their wandering eye(s) or the minor gods he was surely stronger than, a simple look their way is enough for someone to back off. 

Curse the fates for having him fall in love with someone so pretty. 

The two of you walk for what seems like miles before entering the next room in the gala hall: the artisan’s workshop. 

Probably at Hephaestus’s request, his henchmen stand in the middle room, intricately metalworking while guests gather around to marvel at the artisan mastery. Sparks fly as metal is shaped and molded into exquisite sculptures and jewelry, 

All of Hephasetus’s mastery forge work is on display, like a museum filled with the best forgery to ever exist in the history of the world. You marvel at the display.

There’s a prototype for amphibious armor- armor capable of moving seamlessly between land and water. You’d have to get on this for Taehyung, your friend and son of Poseidon. He could do wonders with it. 

There’s also the literal Trojan Horse: the same large wooden horse the Greeks hid soldiers in during the Trojan War. 

Each and every item is masterfully crafted by your father, and one in particular catches your eye: a prototype for time manipulation. Even in the realm of Greek mythology, time travel has been untouched, and the gods themselves might not even know the implications of time travel. 

You take a second to marvel at it even more. Its intricate gears and celestial alignments fuse together in a shape of sphere, and it stays locked in its glass case. Two words decorate the cake: Time Travel. 

You just have to know more, but suddenly Jungkook tugs on your forearm when something- or someone catches his eye. 

You follow his line of sight until you see Demeter. 

Demeter is the goddess of agriculture, fertility, and the harvest in Greek mythology. Her daughter Persephone is the current bride of none other than Hades himself. Instantly you connect the dots. If anyone knew anything about the missing children of Hades, it would be Demeter. 

Lounging on a loveseat in Aphrodite’s boudoir, she sultrily sips at a glass of wine, eyeing down the nymph waiter who is obviously uncomfortable as he scurries away from her. At this party, the purpose of Aphrodite’s boudoir is for guests to meet and hook up, essentially. 

The energy she exerts is an older woman entering her cougar era and you protectively tighten your grip around Jungkook’s bicep. 

Guests recline on plush velvet sofas and lounge chairs, sipping on cocktails and indulging in sweet treats. The room is adorned with lavish decor and the soft, romantic lighting creates an atmosphere of sensuality. 

Funnily enough, the moment Jungkook opens his mouth to say something to Demeter, someone cuts him off. 

“Y/N!” 

You almost shudder at the very familiar voice. 

It’s Apollo. 

-

It is definitely true that Apollo made multiple attempts to make you his bride during your stay at Mount Olympus. Last year, you spent the entire year on Mount Olympus, working under your father Hephaestus as he taught you the latest forging techniques and strategies. 

Such attempts included:

Organizing a symphony to serenade you with love songs

Gifting you with three tons of gold

Appearing in your chambers and serenading you in the middle of the night

Luckily, your father, in his protective nature, banished Apollo from his residence and used magical reinforcements to ensure that he would stay far, far away. 

Unluckily, your father isn’t present. 

Jungkook presses his tongue against the inside of his cheek, eyes dubiously tracing over Apollo’s frame. 

Gods can take on any look or appearance they please, so Apollo can make himself look like the (objectively) sexiest man in the world- which he does. He takes on the appearance of a 6’3 man with brown eyes and tan skin, his jet black hair falling into his eyes as he saunters towards you with his pearly white teeth. 

Nonetheless, you aren’t impressed and neither is Jungkook. He pauses, features curling in distaste, and at that moment he grabs you by the neck, pulling your lips to his like magnetic attraction. He kisses you, and it’s the sloppiest, most disgusting kiss he’s ever bestowed on you- nearly pornographic. 

Jungkook likes to keep it clean. He’s a gentleman and treats you like the lady you are, but you are well aware of his sadistic tendencies, just like he’s aware of your masochistic ones. His saliva drips into your mouth and he pulls away with a line of spit between your lips. 

You take a moment to compose yourself.

“Hey Apollo,” you greet, still somewhat dizzy and breathless from the intensity of Jungkook’s kiss. 

A sly smirk spreads across Apollo’s lips, and he looks right at Jungkook. “Claim her all you want, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

At that moment, it’s like time warps. Everything seems to pause, and the atmosphere turns gray. 

In the next second, everything returns to normal. 

It’s like the air is sucked out of his lungs, but he remains composed. “What do you mean by that?”

Apollo cocks his head, his black hair following into his eyes as throws an arm around your shoulder. 

Again, it’s like time stops and you try to remove his arm from you but you can’t. It’s like his touch is anchored to your skin. Your eyes frantically search Jungkook’s who clenches his jaw as the realization of Apollo’s words sinks in. 

Did… did Apollo watch you and him this morning? 

“Oh don’t look at me like that Jeon,” Apollo pouts, “It almost hurts my feelings,” he muses with a teasing smile before he drops his smile and turns rigidly serious. “Almost,” Apollo enunciates. 

Apollo, being a god, can pretty much do whatever he pleases. He can touch whoever he wants and he can see whatever he wants. 

You squirm against his touch, eyes pleading at Jungkook to do something. When Jungkook catches a glimpse of your doe eyes and the uncomfortability plastered over your body language, something different washes over him, a type of lividity he’s never felt before. 

He immediately unsheathes his sword.

Jungkook carries three weapons with him at all times. 

First, there’s the celestial bronze knife you forged for him when you were ten years old. That particular knife has been to Tartarus and back; in other words, he’s retired it. He only really keeps it for sentimental purposes; he can’t bring himself to let it go. Most importantly, you made it for him so he must keep it with him at all times so he can always have a piece of you with him. 

The second weapon he carries is the celestial bronze Rolex watch on his wrist, which was a gift from Ares on his 18th birthday. With a press of a button, it transforms into a sleek Harley Davidson Motorcycle- he isn’t so sure if it qualifies as a weapon but he has used it to run over some monsters. 

The third weapon is an enchanted blade made from imperial gold. This sword is also something you forged. 

A few years ago, you bestowed Kataklysmós, the first magically enchanted sword to Jungwon, Jungkook’s little brother. Kataklysmós, or Cataclysm has the ability to grant the user with the magical abilities of monsters defeated by the sword.  

In order for its abilities to be activated, the user needs to form a soul binding link with the sword. 

Jungwon was the first demigod to do so, and he documented the entire process in a little Hello Kitty notebook. 

Creating a soul binding link with a magical sword means building a strong emotional connection with it. The wielder focuses their intent and channels divine energy to make the bond stronger. Both the wielder and the sword must accept and acknowledge each other to finalize the connection. 

Anyways, after Jungwon figured it out, Jungkook did it the next day with his magically enchanted sword. 

You called the sword its Greek name: Ichorothilikitimos, which translated to “Lust of Ichor” in English. 

Have you ever wondered if gods bleed? They certainly do- except they don’t bleed blood, they bleed Ichor. Ichor is the golden fluid that flows through the veins of gods, kind of like their special blood.

When Ichorothilikitimos comes into contact with the divine blood of gods and immortals, known as ichor, it sparks intense bloodlust in its wielder. This means that whoever holds the sword feels an overwhelming desire for battle and conquest- sending the user into a bloodlust frenzy. When it happens with Jungkook, it’s like his powers are amplified, and he can take down an entire army single handedly. 

But yes- this weapon is quite literally a god-killing weapon. It’s never been done before, but with Ichorothilikitimos, Jungkook could kill a god with ease. 

While it grants great strength, it also presents a danger of being consumed by aggression. It's a powerful weapon, capable of changing the course of a fight, but it comes with a significant risk.

Obviously, this is a sword only Jungkook could wield. Primarily because he is the only demigod that can even draw ichor from a god, and also because he’s the only other demigod that successfully formed a soul binding link with their weapon. 

When you see Jungkook reach for Ichorothilikitimos, your breath hitches in your throat, but Apollo keeps talking. 

“I’m a god,” Apollo brags, “I can see whatever I want in the mortal world, especially on Camp Half-Blood.”

“I saw you in the bed,” Apollo taunts, “in the shower,” Apollo continues, “and even under the sheets. You looked good. I could do better though,” he declares with a sleazy wink. 

At his statement, you feel disgustingly violated. You feel your stomach churn with revulsion at Apollo's invasive words, each syllable like a dagger aimed at your sense of autonomy.

Jungkook’s nostrils flare, and you wince, looking down when you hear the sound of Ichorothilikitimos being unsheathed. You squeeze your eyes shut, and Jungkook moves with the greatest agility. He nearly slashes Apollo’s arm off- until he doesn’t. 

In a flash, you and Jungkook are transported to another room. 

The fancy room is filled with tall pillars and a sweet smell of roses. In the middle are two big chairs: one pretty and gold, the other strong and iron. Aphrodite, looking beautiful, sits in one, while Hephaestus, looking serious, sits in the other. 

Both are in their more godly form- Hephaestus sits at 36 feet tall while Aphrodite sits at a measly 25 feet. 

“Dad!” you exclaim in relief, hyperventilating from the absolutely horrid encounter with Apollo.

Hephaestus sighs, stepping from the throne until he appears in human form, embracing you sweetly. “Daughter,” he murmurs, “That Apollo… I’ll damn him to Tartarus,” he seethes. 

Apparently, Jungkook feels the same way, seething with anger as his fists clenched tightly at his sides, his eyes shut as he feebly attempts to calm himself. 

Jungkook almost instantly interrupts the moment. “You need to protect your daughter!” Jungkook growls. “How can- how can you let that pervert witness intimacy between your daughter and I?!”

Hephaestus turns his head towards Jungkook. Usually, when a god looks you in the eye, you back down, but Jungkook stares right back at him. 

“You,” Hephaestus starts, “did I give you permission to allow you to marry my daughter? I don’t even remember saying you could marry her.”

“Like I need your permission?” Jungkook scoffs, “I’m the only man Y/N needs in her life- to you she’s just another one of your thousands of kids, Y/N is everything to me.”

You say nothing. Jungkook has a point, and as far as you know, an engaged woman has allegiance to her fiance and not her father. 

Hephaestus appears livid, and you think he’s going to send Jungkook into flames but he sighs and a moment later, you and Jungkook are seated on mini-thrones in front of the thrones of Aphrodite and Hephaestus. 

“This is the problem,” Hephaestus enunciates, “I told you this was going to happen!” he growls, directing his attention towards Aphrodite, the goddess of love and beauty. 

Aphrodite looks beautiful today, with her hair cascading in golden waves and her eyes sparkling like the sea under the sunlight. She’s wearing a red gown and an elegant updo, but her aura exudes one of apprehension.

As far as Aphrodite goes, Jungkook hates her. Aphrodite (again, the goddess of love) has messed with his love life for years; he’s been heartbroken (most likely because of her manipulation)- and Aphrodite was the same goddess who pleaded with Jungkook to return to Camp Half-Blood. 

That means she knew you were alive and didn’t tell him. 

“Jungkook,” Aphrodite begins, “Do you remember what I told you? At the club in Korea, about the balance between gods and demigods?”

Jungkook says nothing. 

“Well, in other words, you fucked that entire balance up!” Hephaestus cuts in frustratedly. 

 “That sword,” Hephaestus starts, inhaling deeply, “Daughter, that sword- what made you think that  forging that sword was a good idea? If demigods possess the capability to kill gods, then the existence of gods becomes meaningless."

“Jungkook, honey, you could have killed Apollo,” Aphrodite says with sweetness laced in her voice in attempts to assuage Jungkook. Clearly, it doesn’t work.

“Well, he deserved to die,” Jungkook bites back, “And Hephaestus, gods aren’t the only beings that bleed Ichor. Titans, monsters, and of course Gaia and Tartarus bleed Ichor. I intend to use this sword to kill the primordial god Tartarus.”

At that moment, you realize that you and Jungkook are a deadly duo, akin to a Mr. and Mrs. Smith. You have the capacity to create god-killing weapons and Jungkook has the capacity to implement the god-killing. 

“Dad, Jungkook would never kill a god,” you declare, “I forged that weapon for Jungkook to kill titans, and he used it to save the world. He’s my fiance, and you can’t address him like he’s a delinquent. Jungkook is the sweetest guy in the entire world.”

Hephaestus has to prevent himself from scoffing, shifting his gaze towards Jungkook who quite literally has fire for pupils- definitely the “sweetest guy in the entire world”. 

Aphrodite holds her tongue. 

“Look,” Jungkook starts, “Here’s the deal. So long as she’s okay, then I’m okay,” he states, motioning towards you. “If Y/N is protected, especially from Apollo,” he seethes, “then I won’t do anything rash. I’ll be an obedient demigod, and do whatever you want- kill any titan or  monster you want. But if anything happens to her, ever, I will burn Olympus down with my own hands.”

It’s quite preposterous for a demigod to threaten a god, but the threat is taken seriously.  Hephaestus and Aphrodite appear physically distraught. 

“Okay,” Hephaestus acquiesces. “Y/N stays safe. To help you on your quest, I’m opening a direct portal to the underworld. The demigod children of Hades are imprisoned in the Underworld with their father. Your eyes will be tricked by the mist but dip yourself in the River of Styx and you will see through it. As for Y/N, she stays here with me-”

“What? No! I’m going with him!”

“She stays here with me and we will forge weapons for you to use. The best weapons of the best caliber- I will ensure my daughter gives you what you need to defeat Tartarus.”

Jungkook inhales deeply and curtly nods at your father. 

You turn to him, “What the fuck Jungkook! You can’t exclude me from this quest! I have to go with you-”

When he faces you, you stop talking. Jungkook is as rigidly serious as ever, and he’s doing the whole flaming pupils thing without even looking angry. 

“Y/N, please,” he urges, “I lost you once and I’m not going to lose you again. Just stay here. You’ve served enough-”

“No,” you respond, “You know I’m not that type of person. I can’t just let you take on Tartarus by yourself!”

Jungkook locks eyes with Hephaestus who just nods, and with a snap of Hephaestus’s fingers, you’re trapped in a celestial bronze cage. You pull against the jail cell screaming, “What the fuck!”

“Dad! Jungkook! Let me out! What the fuck!”

Jungkook stands outside of the cage and looks at you with concerned eyes. “Baby, baby calm down,” he pleads, using his hand to hold your cheek. 

“No,” you cry, “Jungkook, if you do this then it’s over between you and me. I can’t be with a man who doesn’t even trust me.” You begin weeping and crying, and you mean it. You wouldn't forgive Jungkook if he went and saved the world without you. He needs you, and you need him.

At that, Jungkook’s face falls, his eyebrows furrow and he bites his lip in apprehension. The thought of losing you leaves him crestfallen, and he'd rather believe that you're saying all of this in the heat of the moment.

He doesn't have time to contemplate whether you're serious because he's been granted a golden opportunity: a guarantee of your protection by the gods themselves. He can't pass this up.

He bitterly nods. “I’d rather have you safe,” he says before standing up and unsheathing  Ichorothilikitimos. 

And with that, Hephaestus opens a portal straight to the Underworld and Jungkook walks through, leaving you stuck in a cage on Mount Olympus.

[astrea16]

F1 drivers as equestrian disciplines

—an important analysis from a horse girl at heart

If you don't know shit about horseback riding, that's honestly great and I hope you can learn a thing or two from my brainrot.

Charles Leclerc: Show jumping

What’s more iconic than a good old obstacle course with dozens of sponsors plastered every five feet? Aside from Il Predestinato’s very marketable image (Longines is actually a huge sponsor in the industry and they make watches, so,,) I feel like this discipline perfectly reflects his skills as a driver. His raw talent makes him a ferocious threat over the course of one lap and his intelligence is an incredible asset to calculate the best trajectory and angles of attack. Show jumping is thrilling, stressful, and makes you hold your breath until the very last second—just like a good qualifying lap. I feel like Charles would love the attention of doing victory laps around the arena with one fist in the air before spraying everyone with champagne.

Lewis Hamilton: Dressage

I actually had to rethink this one and wonder whether or not I’d picked this discipline because he was British, but I think my point still stands. This man lives for his sport and for the crowds, and I honestly think that as long as his ass is in a car he would drive laps around an empty track all day. Dressage is majestic, it’s prestigious, regal, and the epitome of elegance. This discipline accepts nothing less than excellence and the judges are notorious for being extremely picky, rarely ever giving the maximum score to a movement. It may not look as impressive as show jumping and its counterparts, but it is undeniably just as intense. The goal is to make it seem effortless, like the rider is dancing with their horse and everything else has stopped existing. And look—we all know Lewis is a fashion icon, that one person everyone can’t help but look at when they enter the room. That’s what dressage feels like. It’s classy, sophisticated, sometimes a little bit pretentious—in short, the one that lives under the spotlights. I also think it’s too big of a coincidence that Isabell Werth—the most successful dressage rider of all time—holds the Olympic record of seven gold medals in all equestrian disciplines.

(Also: Nico gets the same assignment ;))

Lando Norris: Show jumping

Something about this guy reminds me of that one friend at the stables that would be there every competition weekend and whose biggest dream was to participate in the Olympics. And yes, that applies to the entire grid, but it feels more prominent for Lando who’s younger and a bit less experienced than some of the older drivers. I don’t want to call it innocence (especially because it must be long gone after five years at McLaren) but there’s something about him that hits you right in the feels and reminds you about the dreams you gave up on. He’s got the drive of a winner and a fun energy that I think suits show jumping quite well. I feel like sponsors would adore him and try to put his face everywhere—probably in an attempt to refresh their image.

Max Verstappen: Eventing

Intense, unforgiving, and hella dangerous, eventing is the perfect discipline for thrill-seekers and people who dislike staying in the same daily grind. Which is funny because we’re talking about Max Verstappen, the guy who spends all of his days glued to his sim chair, but let me explain. The strenuous nature of eventing doesn’t necessarily come from the exercises themselves but from the way they are arranged one after the other with little time to rest in between. This equestrian triathlon often takes place over three days: one day for dressage, one day for cross-country, and one day for show jumping. The goal is to challenge the athletes’ resilience and stamina with various tests. The first one, dressage, determines the ability of the rider to keep their horse in control and perform a series of movements in a relaxed manner. Cross-country is a test of strength. The athletes have to power through an outdoor course of around thirty natural obstacles within a given time range, while making sure that they are saving energy for the third day. Finally, show jumping requires precision and fitness, which—combined with all of the other skills required by eventing—make this discipline the most complete and challenging of all, and therefore the most suitable to our reigning champion imo. As much as I would rather praise other drivers, Max genuinely seems like he never has a bad day and just… knocks it out of the park every single time. And trust me, that’s not something you see often in any kind of sport. Besides, I can easily picture him covered in water and mud, galloping through the forest like a cannonball.

Lance Stroll: Polo

Polo is expensive, classy, luxurious—what more is there to say? Lance would make a great polo player, as long as he’s got the team spirit and isn’t afraid to potentially lose his kneecaps.

Zhou Guanyu: Hunter

Hunter is basically the athleticism of show jumping mixed with the elegance of dressage. The horse/rider combination is judged on their style and technique, and that also comes down to presentation. Both athletes must look neat and well-groomed and have excellent manners throughout the competition. As opposed to show jumping, which can get quite… extravagant at times, hunter isn’t about being the fastest. It’s about who’s got the best equitation and achieves the cleanest performance possible, and that’s why I think Zhou would absolutely slay in this discipline. (Note that my judgement isn’t actually based on his abilities as a driver but rather on his incredible outfits which I KNOW is awfully subjective, but I never claimed to be right in the first place.)

BONUS

Sebastian Vettel

I think Sebastian could have had a career in show jumping before realizing that it wasn’t his thing at all and he retired to do endurance or some western discipline, before getting dragged back into the industry by Charles Leclerc who quickly became his protégé. Although Seb is no longer competing, he’s basically Charles’s mentor and has a ton of tricks up his sleeve from his time as an Olympic rider. He’s actively against horse racing and when he’s not busy coaching, he probably likes to run off somewhere more peaceful—like in a farm lost in the depths of the countryside.

[janujaja]

Thai BL Favourites Tag List Game

Of COURSE @lost-my-sanity1 want me to partake in this and I am doing it for that wee little child only.

Favourite BL

I mean, it was a tight competition between THE 2 - MSP and BB. But as I have screamed out into the void before, BB just takes the cake, man. That show viscerally changed me as a person. I am a NEW BEING after BB. It's the way in which it came during the pandemic with its amazing acting and directing and music and STORY and chemistry and all that and more. MSP is a close second but my uni bois have a special place in my heart.

[p.s I love nanon and his entire face in this scene so much I cannot even descRIBE]

Favourite Pairing

The pretentious me hates how I am following the mainstream and not thinking of some obscure pairings but yeah TinnGun genuinely deserve it. I am sorry but I still get butterflies whenever I watch the last scene of ep 4. That kind of chemistry is super hard to come by and GemFourth did such a good job, I love them. 🥺 I wanna forget ever having watched MSP and watch them all over again.

Some noteworthy mentions are obviously patpran, everything maxtul plays, akkayan, biblebuild, etc.

OH I do infact have a not THAT mainstream pair! It's whatever couple name mark and perth acted as in the [admittedly not a BL] show, The Stranded, on Netflix.

Favourite Character

Tinn. I relate so much to that boy, especially his awkwardness. Also he is super cute and I am super cute. He is also super simpy and I love that in a man. I truly don't know if I want him or want to be him.

[ANOTHER noteworthy mention is Pleum in Ghost Host, Ghost House cuz again, mans is a walking green flag and a simp. ALSO hella awkward. *gasps* I have a type].

Favourite side character

This position is shared by 2 of my fav comic reliefs who are also very pure hearted I love them to bits - Tiwson from MSP and Tankhun from Kinnporsche. The series truly wouldn't have been anything without them and I stand by it.

Favourite Scene

If I could say the entirety of ep 5 of BB, I would have. But if I had to choose. This.

Nothing surpasses this. Paof told them to make it award fucking worthy with the angst and they fucking did it. Ohm in this scene does so many things to me I cannot even I shall be kicked out from society if I ever open my mouth. I can't even stand seeing that gif cuz my knees will buckle down that very second. It also paved the way for the rooftop kiss TM so.

Favourite Line

I mean. I warned you about this in the previous question so. It's more to do with the way he says it but it's still my fav cuz it was done right.

Underrated Actor:

SING who plays the role of the villain in Not Me. It is time that he got some main character roles, gmm.

Most anticipated BL and why:

1. Dangerous Romance cuz I have missed seeing Perth and Chimon, another 2 actors that can ACT, in a main role.

2. Only Friends cuz

3. I feel you linger in the air cuz plot looks interesting and they r both hunks.

Healthiest relationship in a bl:

Tinngun. Aint even have to put up a fight.

Most toxic relationship in a bl:

I mean, there are lots, girlie. If you immediately thought of that one pairing after seeing this question, then yeap I am going with that pairing too wink wink.

Guilty Pleasure Series:

Tonhon Chonlatee and that too only the first few eps. I love khaotung man what do I do.

Bonus! Most underrated series:

I think khun chai is pretty underrated in the sense that it's very telenovelaesque and mayhaps not fully bl so people r put off by it but I LOVED that show to bits.

YYY was a comparatively underrated series too even though I loved the romantic moments as much as the weird and comedic ones. It truly sits in a league of its own.

OOOKIE thassit for now. I have exhausted my typing abilities and I am pretty sure I left a lot of good series and scenes off cuz my brain couldn't conjure them up while I was typing.

I welcome anyone else who wants to try this out honestly, but if @ashedddaisy and @gaylittlepieceofsh1t could contribute their think pieces, I would LOVE to read em.

[crushculture03]

Knight In shining armor

Summary : You’re a princess who falls in love with your fathers head knight, the one problem is that your love is strictly forbidden

Pairing : Knight! Matty x Princess! Reader

Warnings : Medieval Times? , mention of forced marriage, yelling? Fluff, calling matty matthew instead, Love at first sight troupe, Moving fast bc it’s medieval times and ppl got married after like 2 days

Notes : Since this is set in Medieval times, matty goes by Matthew instead since it sounds more 16th century, also i tried to make them sound proper so there’s few contractions so some of the dialogue may sound weird! Also since it’s medieval times they say I love you after knowing eachother for like 5 hours.

Ever since you were a little girl, you were treated like royalty, granted you were actually royalty, a princess to be exact and the only heir to the throne. You were never fond of the royal life, the constant need to be perfect in the eyes of the people and to follow every order your dad, the king, would tell you to do. Though your parents adored you, seeing as you were their only child, they still expected alot from you, as you were the soul heir to the throne of Dunshire.

"Sweetie you're 20 you need to start looking for a husband, you know this, and there's plenty of princes out there who are wanting your hand" your mother said, you groan as she brings the topic up again. "Mother I don't want to marry a prince, they're all pretentious men who have the personality of grass" you respond, " Y/N we understand that but you know its tradition to marry fellow royalty" your father says. "It's a stupid tradition, and one I don't want to partake in, I want to marry someone I love, not marry someone because of their status, Father" you argue, your father sighs "I'm sorry Y/N but thats the rules". "Those are some stupid rules" you yell, before storming out of the dining room and running off to your only safe space, the palace gardens.

You walked along the rocky path that led you to the most reserved part of the gardens, wanting to get as far away from the castle as you possibly could. You finally came across the only bench the gardens had to offer, and quickly sat down with a sigh. You cradled your head in your hands as you began to cry out of frustration.

"Hey are you ok love?" a voice said, you quickly looked up to see who it belonged to, and when you saw the owner of it your heart skipped a beat, it was a handsome young man with brown curly hair and beautiful brown eyes to match, he was wearing a black tunic and beige linen pants, and the way the sun was hitting his face highlighted his angelic features even more.

"I'm fine, did my father send you to retrieve me?" you spat, the man laughed "you mean the king? No he didn't send me" he said, and took a seat next to you. "Good I do not wish to speak to him or my mother" you say, "Can I ask why that is princess?" the man asked. " Please call me Y/N, I hate when people just call me princess, I have a name not just a title that I did not even ask for in the first place" you respond, letting out a shaky sigh.

"Well then Y/N can I ask why you are crying then?" he asked, "Look ..." you said, pausing so he could say his name "Matthew" he responds back. " Look Matthew, I appreciate you caring but if I told you why you would probably laugh" you say as you play with a loose piece of fabric on your dress. "Nonsense, Prin- Y/n, I promise I will not laugh come on just tell me" he says, gently placing his hand on yours, your heart stutters at the contact.

"Fine, my mother and father are forcing me to marry, and my only options are princes because thats the tradition to have royalty marry royalty, but I want to marry for love I want the man I spend the rest of my life with to be someone who I chose,  someone who I love, but love does not matter when you are a princess" you mumble, looking down at your dress.

Matthew places his fingers under your chin and pushes it up to face him, he looks deeply into your eyes, before speaking "Traditions are meant to be broken darling", just his words alone are enough to make your heart skip a beat, "who was this strange man and why was he having such an effect on you?"

You felt yourself leaning closer to Matthew but before your lips could meet you heard the familiar voice of one of the maids calling you "Princess Y/N , Princess Y/N". You groan and stand up, "Will I see you again Matthew" you ask, " Sooner than you may think Y/N" he says, before placing a delicate kiss to the back of your hand. You blush at the gesture, and quickly hurry to go find the maid that was calling for you.

"What is it Mary? My father sent you to get me?" you ask very much annoyed, "Yes Princess, He wants you to get dressed for the dinner tonight, there is a new knight being sworn in" she says, "Fine lets get this over with" you sigh before following her back into the castle.

After getting changed into your formal gown, putting on your most gaudy tiara and tiniest heels, you carefully made your way into the grand dining room. "My lovely daughter, glad for you to join us" your father says as you walk over to your throne, which is next to your mothers, "Hello father" you spit, before sitting down. The Knights slowly filed into the dining room, quickly making their way to the tables and sitting down, awaiting the kings instructions. "Hello Men, tonight we are here to welcome our newest Knight" the king says, the men cheer in response, "With out further ado here he is" your father says before the large doors open reveling the newest knight.

Your heart beat speeds up as you see Matthew walk in, now dressed in the normal knight attire, he walks all the way up to where you and your parents sit, carefully kneeling before your dad. "Matthew Healy, you have proven yourself to be a brave and fierce warrior, for those reasons I know bestow upon you the privilege of Knighthood" your father says, taking his sword out and tapping Matthews shoulders, as customary, "Welcome Sir Matthew to the knights of Dunshire" your fathers voice booms, matthew looks over at you and smiles, before getting up from his knee and walking to his seat.

The rest of the feast goes by in a blur, all you can think of while eating is him, you've only talked once but he's all that fills your mind. You thank God when its finally time for supper to be over with, before leaving you quickly sneak on last glance at the new knight before hurrying back to your chambers.

As you lay in your bed reading, you hear an unusual sound coming from outside. You quickly put on your slippers, grab the candle next to you and make your way out to the balcony. Once you push the curtain back, you're met with the one person whos face you can't get out of your mind. "Matthew what are you doing here?" you ask, quickly pulling him into your room, so no one outside would see. "I came to see you" he simply responds as if climbing up your balcony was a normal gesture. "Why?" you ask, as you make your way back to your bed and sit down, "Because you have not left my mind since we first met" he says, taking a seat next to you.

"You have not left mine either" you say, looking up at him, he leans in closer and pushes a stray piece of hair from your face, before slowly leaning in closer and closing the gap between the two of you. The kiss catches you off guard at first, as you have never been kissed before, but you welcome the feeling of his soft lips against yours. You blush as you pull away from the kiss, "Matthew" you whisper, "Yes Princess" he responds back, normally you hate when people call you that but when he calls you that it makes your heart jump. " Can you stay here tonight?" you ask, "Darling what if someone sees" he whispers, not wanting to get either of you in trouble. "Then let them I do not care" you state, pulling back the covers of your bed and sliding under them, quickly motioning for him to take the empty space next to you, which after a minute of contemplation he does.

You two face eachother, "Matthew why does it feel like I have known you my whole life?" you ask, " I feel that as well darling" he responds, his eyes never leaving yours. "You may think I am mad for saying this, but do you believe in love at first sight?" you ask, "I did not until I saw you" he says before kissing you again. You smile into the kiss and move your hands into his curls as he places his hands on your waist, pulling him flush to his body. "Stay please" you whisper, as you lean your forehead against his, "I am not going anywhere princess" he responds back. You give eachother on last kiss goodnight before you lay your head on his chest and slowly drift off to sleep.

The next two weeks were filled with secret meetings and late nights, as the two of you fell more in love with eachother. On one of your secret meetings, Matthew took you to where you first met, "Matthew what are we doing here" you ask, confused since usually you both would meet in your room. "I wanted to go to the place we first met, the place we fell in love, and now the place where I ask you to marry me" he says, getting down on one knee and pulling out a small sliver ring. "Matthew" you whisper, as happy tears run down your face, "Yes, yes i will marry you" you respond back, quickly pulling him up from the ground and into a kiss.

He carefully slides the sliver band onto your left finger, "I love you princess" he says, "I love you too Matthew" you respond back, before pulling him back into another kiss. unfortunately your happy moment was interrupted by someone clearing their throat, it was Mary your maid, "Princess Y/N and Sir Matthew, just what do you two think you are doing" she scolds, "Mary I-" you try to say but she stops you "I do not want to hear it, but you know who will your father" she says, and roughly grabs your arm, dragging you into the castle. "Matthew" you yell as she drags you away, tears of sadness now streaming down your face as you're pulled away from your love.

"Your Highness" Mary says as she drags you into the living room, where your father and mother are enjoying their afternoon tea. "Yes Mary" the king says, his eyes quickly making their way to you, his face softening as he sees you crying, "I caught the princess and Sir Matthew in the garden together kissing" she says, your father and mother turn to eachother, a look of shock and disappointment on their faces. "I see, well bring Sir matthew to me at once" he orders to the maid, who quickly runs off to find the knight.

Once the three of you are left alone, your father turns to you "What were you thinking Y/N! A knight?" he shouts, "Father please let me explain" you plead but he stops you before you can contine. "No, you know the rules Y/N, royalty is to be with royalty not some knight" he says, but before you can respond the doors open once more to reveal your love. "Thank you Mary I will take it from here" the king says, dismissing the maid. "Sir matthew I entrusted you to lead my army and instead you take a liking to my daughter! How dare you, I should have you punished for this" the king shouts as he steps closer to the knight.

"Father No I love him please" you beg, as you run between the two men, "Nonsense you do not love him, he is just using you to get to the throne" your father says, "Thats not true father, he loves me right matthew" you say, turning towards him. "I am sorry your highness, but I can not help it I am in love with your daughter" he says, gently taking his hand in yours. "Darling" you mom says, catching your fathers attention  by finally speaking up, " He may not be royalty but he is still respectable" she continues, trying to reason with your father.

Your father looks between you and your mother, "I can not believe this" he scoffs, "Well believe it father because before that wicked witch interrupted us, Matthew asked me to marry him and I said yes" you say, as you move closer to Matthew. "Excuse me?" He says, walking closer to you both, Matthew quickly pushes you behind him to protect you, "You are just a naive child Y/N you do not know what you want" the king says, "I am not a child father, I know what I want and what I want is to be with him, and if that means giving up my title then fine. I would rather be with him then be a princess" you respond back.

Your father goes silent for a moment, thinking about what he should say next, having you marry a non royal was bad, but losing you was worse. "Fine" he says, shocking everyone in the room, "You two can marry as long as it means you stay here Y/N" he finishes. "Oh father thank you" you say, running into his arms and hugging him. "I would rather break tradition then lose you" he says, hugging you back, "And Matthew I expect you to protect her with your life, you will not go to battle anymore, you are now assigned to protecting her, is that clear?" the king says, "Yes Your highness" the knight says, you pull away from your fathers embrace and run to Matthew, pulling him in for a kiss. "I love you" you say to him, "I love you too" he responds back, your father can't help but smile when he sees the way you look at eachother, reminding him of the way he and your mother used to be when they were your age. "I suppose a congratulations is in order, i will go tell the kitchens to prepare a feast for tonight" your father says, "Thank you father" you respond, before he and your mother leave the room and head to the kitchens.

You immediately jump into matthews arms as soon as your parents leave the room. "You really meant it when you said you would leave the throne just to be with me?" he asks, " I did" you respond back, matthew smiles widely and kisses you, "I love you Princess" he states, "I love you too Sir Matthew" you say back, the smile never leaving either of your faces.

[cogentranting]

TTPD and Tortured Poets

The Tortured Poets Department applies that title to its subject matter in a variety of ways that I would like to sort into four categories:

Tortured Poet used in it's most typical understanding as an artist/performer of some sort who is tortured by their own fears, heartbreaks, demons etc.

Tortured Poet as a tongue in cheek description of someone who views themselves as an Artist in the vein of category 1, and as a result is dramatic and somewhat pretentious

Tortured Poet as a criticism. A variation on 2, but instead of just poking fun at that attitude it looks at the harm it causes.

Tortured Poets taken to mean an artist who is being tortured, not by their own demons as the phrase typically means, but actively by someone else (the public, the Industry, the nature of fame itself).

Category 2 is best seen in "The Tortured Poets Department" the song. There we have the contrast of self-image and reality which is called out in the chorus, but in a affectionate, sort of tender way. The speaker and the subject are both included in this ironic self-description.

Category 1 is essentially the baseline for the album. By naming the album after track 2 there is an acknowledgement of sorts that perhaps the whole thing leans a bit into the melodramatic, but naming the album with just a bit of irony allows most of the tracks to completely commit to just being earnest, unselfconscious, full-throated expressions of whatever emotions they're trying to convey. "The Black Dog," "loml," "So Long, London," "I Hate it Here," "The Prophecy," and "The Albatross" all demonstrate this approach pretty clearly.

Category 3 takes the song's subject and says essentially, "you see yourself as a tortured poet, and here's how that broke us." "The Tortured Poets Department" has elements of this with lines like "But you're in self-sabotage mode/ Throwing spikes down on the road" and "But you awaken with dread/Pounding nails in your head"-- though it ultimately comes to a less critical conclusion because the speaker is willing to embrace that because she sees herself in the same way: "Everyone we know understands why it's meant to be/ 'Cause we're crazy." However, songs like "My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys" "I Can Fix Him (No Really I Can)" and especially "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" exist more fully in that critical mode.

Category 4 is summed up by what Taylor said about "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" in her Apple Music commentary: "I felt bitter about just all the things we do to our artists as a society and as a culture. There’s a lot about this particular concept on 'The Tortured Poets Department'". The poets are being tortured, but this time it's not by themselves, or even by their fellow tortured poets (as in the Category 3 songs) and other people in their personal lives; this time it's right up on stage and in public. "Who's Afraid of Little Old Me?" "I Can Do it With a Broken Heart" "Cassandra" and "Clara Bow" are most strongly about this, but it's also present to varying extents in "But Daddy I Love Him," "The Albatross," "I Hate it Here," "How Did It End," and "thanK you aIMee."

And then there's the secret fifth category. Category 5 is for the non tortured-poets. "Robin" is about protecting a child from that side of the world. The speaker in this song is still a tortured poet, but she's viewing the subject (Robin) who may or may not be a poet, but certainly is not tortured, and the speaker is reflecting on that innocence. "The Alchemy" also retains a Tortured Poet presence-- the verses present the speaker in that way-- but the love interest has no such characterization. Instead, he's the opposite. He's not a poet, so he gets sports imagery, and he's not tortured, so he's joking and celebrating, and his arrival brings this sudden sense of lightness and triumph into the album with him. This is taken even further with "So High School" which has no trace of any tortured poets anywhere (with "I know Aristotle" we might get a glimpse of poet, but at this point she's not tortured). The whole song is the antithesis of the idea of the Tortured Poets Department. And following all the turmoil that the speaker has experienced in the rest of the album both by being a tortured poet and by dating them, this song comes as a much-needed release. It's ease and relaxation and a sort of joyful simplicity in stark contrast to "cyclone" of the Tortured Poets Department.

[caluski]

Few days ago @ikonofilizm tagged me to do the "put music player on shuffle and list 10 first songs" thing Thank You my dear I loooooove doing this shit 😁😁😁 let's get to it

1. Lucky to get him by Aly and AJ - revisited this album recently, it's really nice and chill, I like the direction they're going in now as adults. I was never really into Americana, but maybe theyve kinda changed that with this release.

2. Another life by Jadu Heart - god, this was the first song I've ever heard of them, such a throwback!!! I remember walking thru the city at night time, walking back from a party I think? Alcohol leaving my body and I just stared at the starry sky. An unbelievably beautiful track. Since then the duo became one of my favorite bands atm.... Please give them a chance, especially their last EP.

3. Liquid air by Temples - one of my favorite tracks from their new album. Talked about them more than a healthy amount of times recently; really good neopsychedelia if you're into that stuff, a 10/10 album for hot summer days.

4. DYNA by PEEL - some more neopsychedelia! It's been a while since I listened to it, but I used to have it on repeat so much.

5. HAUNTED by Isabel LaRosa - ugh, i remember when it came out and I discovered it in like one of those spotify playlists. It had like a thousand plays maybe!!! And I loved it so much, I added it to my midground playlist and had it really high up on my wrapped for that year, and then I checked back a few months ago and it became like a tiktok sound or something with like a billion plays :((((( I guess good for her but mannn my pretentious soul was hurting LOL

6. Assumptions by Sam Gellaitry - some house...ish dance track, i guess. It's fun and I like that vibe of sort of city pop it has going on, but the fucking high pitched sound at the start is the WORST. So fucking annoying. Every time it comes on, even though I actually like the song, the noise just pisses me off and I cant help but skip it!!!! Who thought it was a good idea to START with what sounds like fucking tinnitus.

7. Upside down by Sacha Rudy - ohhhh throwback... I used to love every single track this guy would put out since like 2019. And then he released that EP last year and other than "upside down" I really just couldn't get into it. Felt like a mess. And now he's disappeared since! Can't help but hope he'll come back with something as good as "be a man", because that was my most listened to track that year. So good.

8. Lamb's wool by Foster the People - HEY that's my song!!!!! Oh no wonder it's coming up on shuffle when I've listened to it so much again this past few weeks. This time it's the original and not the Poolside version. One of my all time favorites, like, ever, and if you can only listen to one of the songs I've listed, please make it this one. Who DOESN'T love tracks about how terrifying death is??? I'll hold you so you're not alone 🤓

9. Blessed by August Charles - people who listened to my dinner party/cafe playlist probably heard this one. Ugh it makes me so melancholic. Really good tho. No wonder it's his most listened to track.... I should probably check out his other works bc I really like his voice.

10. Theme of Re:Served by Re:Served - instrumental track with So Few listens that it doesn't even have the count visible on spotify! I remember being obsessed with them back in 2016, when the way I would discover new music was by downloading random japanese experimental albums from my favorite site. This is honestly just like runway music. I love runway music with good bpm. This one is good. You should listen to it and become their third monthly listener with me.

Thank youuuuuuuuu for tagging me!!!!!! Sorry its so long tho!!!! I love talking about songs I love!!!!! Tagging back: @moldavite , @slavicafire (i know u never do these but hope dies last!), @ferdydurke , @jurajurica , @kotikonnut , @skrzynka , @nocylipcowa , and everyone else who listened to at least one of the songs 😁😁😁 let's have a lovely Sunday afternoon everyone mwah

[teethloveslut]

Pretentious lil shit

Its the release day of my fifth album

“Love for everyone”

The algorithm is saying it’ll be another hit

I think it’ll be one of my most intense albums ever made.

It is one of my best next to “a scholars heart” and “Feed the homeless”

To celebrate I am meeting some friends

at a bar downtown

But I never arrived because I’m spontaneous and insane like that

Instead I’m walking past all the towering buildings

Thinking If I was ever smart enough I would recognize how small I really am

I’m walking past the beautiful street lights

that shines so bright

Thinking who needs stars when the electric burn does just fine

Im walking past the ghetto

Thinking nothing of the homeless and the torn down homes

And Now I’m walking on the train tracks

Taking in the moody darkness

And the calming silence

And it inspires me

To make a poem

I feel a shivering sigh coming up my throat

It’s blistering cold

I’m forgetting who I am

And becoming something like a man

I am not a goat

I am just old

And hoping for the end of the story told

Beautiful

I’m thinking

Just so beautiful

Maybe one day I shall write a book

A book full of thought provoking sentences

And colorful symbolism

Thinking now of metaphors and words that rhyme with “sad”

I lay on the grass

And stare at the sky

Wondering what it’s like to die

Is it cold and silent as seen on a hospital bed

or is it fast and brash

Like a car speeding ahead

The probable thread of thought

Can’t be found so easily

It’s nothing stolen or bought

But it’ll not be free to see

That is the last of my sane idea

I’m laying in the grass

And I see the dark sky above me

The lights from the city is surrounding the grass but is still too far to infect the darkness

Giving the night a nice dim halo around the corners of my eyes

Everything is so important to me

Everything is so meaningless to me

I say this out loud

As I feel a tingle in both of my hands

A tingle that only happens when they’re asleep

I feel it infect my arms

And then my torso

And then my legs

It’s going through my body excluding my head

Then it stops

That’s when I start seeing orange rings floating around me

I see them float gracefully across my visions

As if they were fish in the sea

Floating and flying

Sitting and moving

All at the same time

It makes me wish to dance

Makes me wish I was a fish

Makes me wish I was free

But I can’t

I know I can’t because I won’t let myself

Because I’m scared

And that pisses me off

I feel this pressure

This erupting volcano all through my brain

This bomb that is on the verge of exploding

not caring who its victim is

A baby going red in the face

Throwing it’s food and toys at everything

Nothing will get in my way

But my face shows none of that

My body still in the grass

Feeling none of this anger in me

All bottled up

The rage is in my mind

But it’s not showing in my blood

My body is a hollow tree

But my mind is blazing with thoughts and feelings

And then I change

I’m calm now

My body is now water

I feel like a human shaped pond

Full of fish and frogs

Swimming peacefully

On a sunny day

I see the movement of paint strokes

on a canvas Replacing the sky

Each of them moving into place

I knew nothing of their plan

Until I saw the strokes

forming into a painting I haven’t thought of in awhile

A beautiful presentation of sex and beasts

A view into what it means to be in the dark

At the Circus Fernando, The Rider

By Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec

The way I’ve seen the paint move exactly the way I see the paintings motion is set

All in one curve direction following the horse

Seeing the solid and masculine nature in the ringmasters stature

Seeing the enticing woman with the mask

Riding the horse

She looks at the man and smiles

As if she’s luring him into an interlocking of flesh

The man wants her

But she’s attracting everything to her

And he needs to be the only one

At least for the night

I want her

I want him

I want the horse

I want the people at their seats

I want the circus

I want the lights

I want the colors

I want the painting

I want the emotion

I think to myself

How amazing Henri was

Through this painting he told us everything he sees

If only I could say the same

I feel ashamed

Thinking I can leave a mark here

I have unfortunately created a stain

It’s stuck here until we all forget about it

And to that I say I’m sorry

I feel the tears flowing from my eyes to the ground

My heart is running fast

Faster than the rider and her horse

And my skin is going grey as the paint

Now the grass is grabbing hold of me

As the stars that were city lights become eyes

Piercing my skin to see what was under this mess

And what they’ve found

Was nothing but bullshit and yellow paint

It will damn me if I say this

But I have to hold onto some dignity

I know I’m important to this world

I know I did enough for the smaller people

By talking about how we’re all together on this planet

I am different than all these other performers

I didn’t sign a contract for money

I signed it to share my love and ideas to the world

I made some of the most influential music

And art in the entire universe

Even if Henri de Toulouse-lautrec was a musician I would still do better than him

I am special and important

And I will be a slave in hell

Until I confess to being wrong

[icaruseater]

The Most Pretentious Word Ever

You’ve probably seen it presented “aesthetically”: black and white stock footage of people going about their lives and beautiful sprawling landscapes accompanied by dreamy guitar plucks or soft piano. Other videos are less aesthetic, but more real: regular people holding their phones telling the camera that they’ve just discovered a new word. One video with almost 2 million likes shows a man holding back tears as he reads it aloud:

Sonder. The realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.

Well, that’s the shortened definition, anyway. The one you’re most likely to see printed on the back of a t-shirt at Hot Topic. The man in tears also reads the second part: “An epic story that continues invisibly around you like an anthill sprawling deep underground, with elaborate passageways to thousands of other lives that you’ll never know existed, in which you might appear only once, as an extra sipping coffee in the background, as a blur of traffic passing on the highway, as a lighted window at dusk.”

Something about the word has always felt a little off to me. It has struck me as fake-deep and contrived, but I could never quite put my finger on why. It doesn’t help that I’ve never seen anyone actually use the word, just people fawning over how deep it is. The remixed definitions can sometimes insist upon themselves, with some people changing the beginning to “the profound feeling of realizing that everyone has a life as complex as one's own”. Why is a word calling itself profound in its own definition?

Furthermore, the wording of the actual definition was troubling to me. The realization that everyone is living a life as vivid and complex as your own. How selfish, I thought, to be so unaware of the complexities of life that such a thing is worded like an epiphany. That's just empathy, I thought. 

This tossed around in my mind one restless night until I finally faced the aggravating blue light of my phone screen to Google it. This led me down a bit of a rabbit hole of the English vocabulary and my own philosophy on language.

The Search Results

The first thing I discovered is that sonder is not what some would consider a “real word”. By that I mean it’s not in the dictionary. Of course, there are plenty of words (particularly slang) that do not appear in the dictionary, but this was still somewhat shocking to me because pretty much every post I’ve seen on sonder presents it as if it were an excerpt from one. This is perhaps because the word was invented by John Koenig, author of The Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows, where he makes up words to describe various phenomena. He’s stated that part of the purpose of his dictionary is to “fill a hole in language”.

Well, I thought, that settles it. Rabbit hole over, nothing else to discover, we can all go home now. 

But when I scrolled a little further, I realized something puzzling: no one knows how to use sonder in a sentence. I quickly found that I wasn’t alone in thinking this. I came across a Reddit thread titled “Is sonder the best-ever new word?” where the top comment read: “I like the concept very much. It's humanistic, it's mystical, kind of psychedelic [psychedelic? really??], but I've never heard it spoken in a sentence, or read it in a published work of fiction. I don't know how to use it in an intelligible sentence. Does anyone?” Here’s some examples I found:

“I lay in bed so deep in my thoughts, the darkness was all around me while, slowly, the sonder started to kick in. I then realized that not only me, but all seven point fifty three billion people in this world which they are constantly living despite my personal lack of awareness of it.” 

“As the poet concludes his final verse, the crowd ripples with sonder: tears can be seen and gasps heard before those gathered break into applause. His words seemingly have struck a few chords in the hearts of all those present.”

“I had a sonder, a realization that the random girl sitting next to me inside of Starbucks might have a fantastic life or she might be dealing with a very ill family member.”

The attempts I read further convinced me that this whole thing might just be some big pretentious charade. All this hullabaloo about how deep the word is, yet nearly every example sentence I saw was derivative, trite, weak. Many of them can't help but essentially restate the definition, which makes me think that perhaps they themselves innately doubt that the word can stand on its own two feet. Even the sentences that mostly avoid re-stating the definition were uncompelling.

Input From Profesionals

My search continued as I came across a CBC article about sonder and Koenig’s Dictionary of Obscure Sorrows in general. A good point made by Lera Boroditsky, a cognitive scientist professor at the University of California San Diego, is that shortened methods to communicate emotions are actually good for language. While it may seem limiting to some, putting a name to an emotion can help us better understand it. Koenig appears to concur with this, as the article states that “therapists have emailed him explaining how just being able to name something, can offer people power — even solace.”

Meanwhile Geoffrey Pullum, a professor of Linguistics at the University of Edinburgh, appears to dislike the outlook of Koenig’s dictionary towards language. In the article, Pullum conveys his argument by discussing the difference between how you say machine gun in English versus how it is said in French, mitrailleuse. "It would be absurd to think that if you speak only English you can't form the concept of a machine gun; yet that is essentially the error people are making when they say (for example) that the German word schadenfreude cannot be translated into English."

I understand where Pullum is coming from. My mother's first language is Spanish, and she will occasionally insist that some words “can’t be translated” (she did this most recently with the word terca). But after throwing out some examples, we can always find a way to communicate the same idea in English, even if there isn’t a one-to-one translation for it.

The Beauty of Words

The conversations with my mother and Pullum’s point got me thinking about the English vocabulary. Perhaps it is by design that there isn’t actually a single word to describe the “epiphany” that sonder represents. It is clear after just looking up sonder on TikTok that a lot of people think the word is beautiful- but it's true beauty is in the definition, not the word itself. This might seem like an obvious thing to say, but I suppose I am questioning the aesthetic sensibilities of people who find the word beautiful. Why not just take as many words as you need to explain what or how  you’re feeling? Is it really better (or even more beautiful) to have the experience all summed up in one convenient little word? The fact that the true beauty and appeal of this word lies in the picture it paints in its definition only aids my point. It feels almost corporate, the act of putting it all into one word, it's almost like the linguistic equivalent of meal-prepping to me. Convenient, for sure, perhaps even smart for the modern man, but taking away so much of the enjoyment and personality of writing. I think part of the beauty of language is how we string together words to maneuver through our own stories and emotions, and if we condense everything neatly with a nice lil bow, that really takes away the liveliness of language.

I began to think of sonder as a sort of KAWS figure or Funko Pop of words: like it was designed simply to be gazed upon, posted on your social media, but not actually interacted with in any meaningful way.

But that's not really true, is it? Does a word have to be usable in a sentence for it to be valuable? Is it really such a bad thing for it to exist on its own as an Instagram post? Despite how I might feel about sonder, it clearly does impact some people meaningfully. The singer Brent Faiyaz got the word tattooed on his face and named his band after it. I saw somebody wearing a shirt with sonder (and its definition, of course) on the back. I saw a young-ish guy at my job with SONDER tattooed in bold black font going all the way down his arm, and seeing it got such a reaction outta me that it's basically the reason I started looking into the word. I remember thinking (after seeing the guy’s tattoo but before doing my research) “could such a fake-deep word really mean so much to people?”. The answer, obviously, is yes. And what was said in the article is true: being able to put a word to a feeling can be extremely helpful for some people. As an Urban Dictionary definition states: “Sometimes you're hurting so bad and you feel you're the only one. But after all your hardships you start to realize that everybody is so unique and you aren't the only one.” Perhaps not the most well-written couple of sentences, but the message is loud and clear: people resonate with sonder, regardless of whether it can stand alone.

In conclusion: do I like sonder now? Well, yes and no. I appreciate how strongly other people feel about the word (I think the act of loving a word in itself is kinda lovely, cute and romantic, what can I say) and if what Koenig said earlier about therapists reaching out to him is true, that's amazing. 

But overall, I think an expression just as (if not more) beautiful can be made by using a collection from your own vocabulary. There is nothing quite like reading a passage that takes your breath away, and the act of optimizing that by condensing it into one word feels quite robotic. The English language is not less good or in need of “fixing” because there isn’t always a single word to describe such complex emotions, rather see the language as a toolkit: your set of brushes and paint pots that you may then use to orchestrate a story all your own. :)

REFS

Brend, Y. (2022, January 23). What does it mean to “sonder?” author invents new words that resonate during the pandemic | CBC radio. CBCnews. https://www.cbc.ca/radio/sunday/the-sunday-magazine-for-january-9-2022-1.6307530/what-does-it-mean-to-sonder-author-invents-new-words-that-resonate-during-the-pandemic-1.6321644#:~:text=Sonder%3A%20the%20realization%20that%20each,sipping%20coffee%20in%20the%20background

How to use “sonder” in a sentence. WordHippo. (n.d.). https://www.wordhippo.com/what-is/sentences-with-the-word/sonder.html

Is sonder the best-ever new word?. Reddit. (n.d.). https://www.reddit.com/r/words/comments/housk7/is_sonder_the_bestever_new_word/

Koenig, J. (2012, July 22). Sonder. Tumblr. https://www.dictionaryofobscuresorrows.com/post/23536922667/sonder

Sonder. Urban Dictionary. (n.d.). https://www.urbandictionary.com/define.php?term=sonder

What are the correct ways of using the word “sonder”? Quora. (n.d.). https://www.quora.com/What-are-the-correct-ways-of-using-the-word-sonder#:~:text=For%20example%2C%20%22I%20am%20struck,rigid%20posture%20and%20furrowed%20brow 

[half-assed-movie-reviews]

Uncut Gems (2019)

This review will contain spoilers. I despise this movie with my entire being and I need to make sure everyone knows exactly why I hate it. If for whatever ungodly reason you want to watch this movie blind I urge you not to, but I understand some people are sadistic like that so who am I to stop you. However, there will be spoilers beyond this point so keep reading at your own risk. 

I can’t explain in simple terms why this movie pisses me off so much. Its themes aren’t that bad but god I don’t think I could ever sit through this movie ever again. Perhaps it’s the excruciating, mentally devastating way they tried to communicate their message. Following are my barely coherent rants about different aspects of the movie I can recall:

Use of Color: This is one of the few aspects of the movie I feel comfortable praising. I love a strong color palette in movies and Uncut Gems stuck to its dark, grungy color palette that suits the tone of the film well. It does get heavy on the eyes after awhile, but that’s more so a criticism of the film’s length than the colors (which I will certainly lose my shit about later in the review)

Acting: Adam Sandler really sold the role of a desperate, disheveled business owner. Something about the man makes him so easy to pity even when he’s the most obnoxious guy in the entire movie. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t have beef with Adam, I’m sure he’s a lovely man and I enjoy some of his romcoms but he does an exceptional job at becoming the most pathetic man in the world in this film. I am still undecided on whether that is a compliment of his acting or diss on his character but regardless it suited him well in this context.

Here’s the parts of the film that I cared for significantly less:

The Script: The dialogue for this movie isn’t unnatural or even really bad, it’s just painfully annoying. Like by the end of the movie if I heard one more word spoken with a thick Brooklyn accent I would deck them on the fucking spot. The movie is just cluttered with this realistic, messy, argumentative dialogue that it feels like watching your parents fight for 2 hours and 15 exhausting minutes. Eventually you just begin to tune out Adam Sandler’s helpless cries and with that, the themes of the movie also get lost. I feel like the movie’s message about the pitfalls of capitalism is great in theory, but after hearing people fight for nearly the entire duration of the film my mind is so numb that I don’t even care what the movie is trying to say anymore.

Runtime: These are the longest 2 hours and 15 minutes of your entire life. You will be struggling to pay attention as Adam runs around begging people for forgiveness and when you check how much time is left, your heart will sink as you see another 55 minutes on the runtime. It’s too late to back out, you’re already entrenched in Adam’s unholy creation. So you dig in and tank through the rest of the movie. By the time the helicopter flies over to the casino and Adam makes his bank, you don’t feel anything at all. You don’t care for this man. Your eyes burn at the site of his face, his voice grates away at your soul. There is nothing you desire more in that moment than for the credits to roll. You even feel a little relief watching him finally get shot. You won’t have to hear from him again for the remaining 15 minutes. God rest your soul, Adam. May you find forgiveness in his grace for the pain in which this movie caused others.

I should be clear. I don’t hate Adam, or the Safdie Brothers, or anyone else. I hate this movie. My hatred is purely directed towards this film for putting me through 2 hours of New Yorkers yelling at each other, and towards the pretentious film critics for giving it a 90% on Rotten Tomatoes. I think the themes were thoughtful and could have been great in a movie, but unfortunately there’s too much detracting from Uncut Gems for me to even begin to care about what the film is trying to say. Final Score: 1.5/5 stars. I wanted to like it, Adam. I’m so sorry

[arcanadreams]

That time you and your demon boyfriend went viral

hi yes hello obey me fandom!! my name is Gabbi and i have never played a single second of the actual game but i have read enough fanon content for the past year to have this idea swimming around in my head and now i am finally letting this accursed thing out of my brain and putting it in yours

also i’m only doing the brothers because any more than that and i’d have an aneurysm probably. oh and shoutout to @obeythebutler and @beels-burger-babe for inspiring me with their works to feel brave enough to write for this fandom

Lucifer:

You and Lucifer go viral on Asmo’s Devilgram story!

You’re in the kitchen helping Asmo with dinner duty and singing along to one of your playlists of human realm music that you like to show him.

Asmo starts filming your cute little dance while you stir the pot on the stove because you are just adorable!

About ten seconds into him filming, Lucifer appears in the doorway with quite the stern look on his face. You know, the one that comes right before a “MAMMOOOOOON” and strikes fear into the heart of all those with functioning eardrums. That one.

He opens his mouth, presumably to tell y’all to shut the fuck up, but then there’s a lull in the music and the eldest can hear your voice ever so slightly above the song’s vocalist and he freezes.

Man stops in his tracks like someone just smacked him in the face with a midair volleyball.

Asmo can be heard stifling a laugh behind his phone.

Lucifer’s face gets so soft and he almost, almost, loosens his metal-rod-through-the-ass posture before you notice him and give a little wave and ask if you and Asmo were being too loud like the considerate darling you are.

Lucifer clears and his throat and says something like, “No, you aren’t. I was just coming to check on how dinner is coming along,” and leaves, after which Asmo immediately presses the post button.

Screenshots of Lucifer’s heart eyes for you go absolutely viral because every demon on Devilgram goes absolutely feral for seeing the eldest demon brother lose his dignified composure. It becomes a meme template. “Get you someone who looks at you like Lucifer looks at MC” and “me at the delivery demon when he shows up with my spicy bat wings” posts become commonplace. (Asmo thinks the memes are totally worth getting strung up with Mammon for laughing at them.)

Mammon:

Much like Lucifer, you and Mammon end up going viral off Asmo’s Devilgram. (Noticing a pattern here?) 

He pulls a silly prank on your asses and honestly I don’t know how you fell for it. But hey, they say “idiots in love” for a reason, so...

You and Asmo are sitting in the common room of the House of Lamentation just chillin. Well, he’s chillin, you’re on the floor studying for an upcoming exam.

The video starts in the middle of a conversation you and the avatar of lust were having.

“No, Asmo,” you say. “Mammon and I don’t use pet names for each other.” Now that’s just a darn lie, and every demon and crow within ten miles of Mammon and you together knows it.

“Really? I find that very hard to believe, MC.~” 

You sigh in response to Asmo’s teasing. “Okay, he has a lot for me but I’m just not much of a pet name person, y’know?” The rest of the exchange goes like this:

“Oh, I totally get it.” *pause* “Hey MC, what do human world bees make again?”

“Honey.”

Cue a sheepish Mammon sticking his head in the doorway at the bluntness of your tone when you answered Asmo.

“Yeah, babe?” he looks like a puppy left on the side of a highway oh my god hUG HIM-

Asmo turns the camera back to his smug ass face and in the background you can be heard tripping on the damn carpet trying to get up and hug your mans. (”MAMMON GET OVER HERE SO I CAN HUG YOU” “W-WHAT? I THOUGHT YA WERE MAD AT ME?!?!?!?!”)

Leviathan:

Streamer Levi? Streamer Levi.

You guys go viral the first time you make an appearance on one of Levi’s weekly (insert cool Devildom streaming service name here) streams. 

It’s completely unintentional. You had been asking him for weeks to play with him on there, but he’s the avatar of envy after all. He doesn’t like sharing his partner, even if it’s with random strangers who have no real access to you.

However, he has his stream on a Thursday instead of a Friday one week, and you come into his room carrying dinner because 1) You didn’t realize he was streaming and 2) No matter what he was doing, the boy needed to eat. It wasn’t unusual for you to bring him dinner, so you had no idea why he was blushing and stammering even more than usual this time in particular. Boy was speaking in beached whale trying to tell you what was wrong.

Then you notice his screen. Oh! “Hi chat!” You wave, setting Levi’s food down on his desk in front of his keyboard. “M-MC!” He full-on whines, slamming a hand over his mouth afterwards when he remembers his viewers could hear that.

Honestly, they’d meme the fuck out of him if it weren’t for the fact that they are FINALLY SEEING HIS HENRY!!! THE MYSTERIOUS MC!!!

Chat is bombarding you with questions while you make Levi eat dinner. And by make him eat dinner, I mean literally feeding this man forkfuls/spoonfuls while he games because you love how flustered he gets when you do that. 

Does it impact his score? Absolutely. Does he care? Not really when you’re pampering him like that.

You start answering chat’s questions about you while he’s chewing so he can’t tell you to stop LMAO-

You’re a natural on stream. The VOD becomes the most popular on Levi’s account in a matter of hours and soon cute highlights compilations of you and him on that stream start making the rounds on Devildom Twitter.

Satan:

There was buildup to Satan going viral, similar to Levi in a way. 

Satan does have a Devilgram, but it’s basically a white woman’s Instagram with added book reviews for variety. Unless you’re a reader his account is pretty boring: candles, books, fireplaces, and cats.

However, after you two started reading together fairly often he began posting pictures of your legs draped over his while you sat together. They’d always be captioned with vague ass pretentious literary criticism. 

This goes on for months, and he gains a lot of (horny) followers after the leg pics start up. He doesn’t really get why but you both joke that it’s because you have some damn nice legs and I mean neither of you are complaining about the new following.

You two go viral when he finally shows your face, entirely by accident.

The post is a video, which is already strange for him and grabs attention. In it, you’re scoffing and reading an excerpt of a book, mocking its understanding of female anatomy.

“I’m quoting here, Satan: ‘her breasts bouncing around like giant pacmen.’ I’M SORRY?? THAT ISN’T HOW BOOBS WORK SIR. WHY ARE MEN ALLOWED TO WRITE?” 

(fun fact that is a very real quote from a very real book I really read last month pls save me)

Originally the camera is focused on your body, with your head out of frame to protect your privacy, but your righteous anger made Satan laugh. Like, a real laugh. The one that makes you and everyone in earshot wonder if he truly was never an angel cause he sure as hell laughs like one but anyway-

When he threw his head back, his DDD angled up just a tad without him noticing, and your face was in view for like .2 seconds. Screenshots of it are making the rounds on Devilgram almost immediately: FINALLY THE LEGS’ OWNER HAS BEEN FOUND.

Satan apologizes profusely but you honestly find it funny and you two opt to just start taking selfies while reading with both of your faces in them from now on. 

Asmodeus:

I’m gonna be real with you: you and Asmo go viral all the time. Pretty much everything Asmo posts can be considered viral because of his social media following and his status as one of the seven avatars of sin.

However, there are some fairly cute highlights to be pointed out among the times you were both featured in a post that blew up.

Your favorite is probably that time Asmo livestreamed on of you guys’ ‘Nail Nites,’ as you call them.

You’re both on the floor, doing your nails and kicking your feet back and forth while talking to chat. A lot of the questions are about your relationship, and there’s a lot of flirting back and forth between the two of you.

A particular clip of the stream does blow the fuck up on Devilgram, though, when someone screen records it and posts it with a bunch of heart emojis edited over it.

“’What colors do you think best describe each other?’ Ooo, that’s a good one, chat!” Asmo claps his hands together excitedly, making sure to be  careful of his nails.

Pretty much everyone expected you to say pink, but you surprised both your boyfriend and your viewers when, after a pensive few moments, you replied with “Hmm...probably yellow or orange.”

“Can I ask why, darling?” Asmo tilts his head in confusion. I mean, yeah, those colors look good on him, but he doesn’t wear them often so he’s wondering about your thought process. 

“Well, in the human world those colors often represent happiness, optimism, and positivity. You’re always the cheerful presence I need in my life when things get hard, so you have the vibe of those colors.”

Asmo proceeds to burst into tears and hug you, messing up both of your nails and prolonging the stream since you both have to start over. But neither of you particularly care. 

Fun fact: Asmo has the clip that demon made of that portion of the stream saved on his DDD and watches it whenever he feels sad.

Beelzebub:

Beel and you probably go the most viral out of everybody. Like this moment is an entire phenomenon across the Devildom internet. 

It’s a video, or well, multiple videos, taken at the end of a Fangol game that Beel’s team had just won. Everyone is cheering and going crazy, yourself included, and you just really wanted to congratulate your boyfriend.

So, like the rational person you are, you elect to climb up onto the railing of the bleachers and wave to get his attention. 

You were absolutely fine up there, and sat all comfortably motioning Beel over to you. He notices, of course, and jogs over, standing right beneath you and looking up. (Back where you were sitting, Mammon is screeching like a hyena in heat and Belphie, who is laying down, has one eye open to glare at him. The youngest knows Beel would never let you hurt yourself; you’re fine.)

A bunch of assorted demons at the game has started filming while you were sat atop the railing since you were rather noticeable. Therefore, there’s a shit ton of different angles of the adorable events that follow:

You slide off the railing, landing right in Beel’s waiting arms bridal style. You’ve got this brilliant smile on your face as you pull his helmet off. None of the DDDs filming can hear it over the crowd noise, but Beel asks you why you just went through all that trouble and you tell him it’s because you wanted to tell him how proud you are.

Soft boy’s chest puffs up and he smiles this big cheesy smile at you reach up to run a hand through his hair. You feel him practically purr at the contact, and with a laugh you pull him in and plant a big ole smooch on him.

The crowd, at least those of them that can see, scream. Everyone is running high on adrenaline and happy emotions; something that cute causes a ruckus!! When you pull away Beel proceeds to put you on his shoulders and you celebrate with him and the rest of his team.

The videos of you two being adorable go completely viral and there are some threads dedicated to stockpiling every single angle taken of the event. Beel is completely oblivious to the attention but you have a lot of them saved on your DDD.

Belphegor:

If you think Belphegor has any sort of social media presence whatsoever then you are sorely mistaken. (Well okay he actually does run some anonymous troll accounts to meme on Lucifer’s posts but that’s neither here nor there-)

Therefore, naturally, you two go viral off of Asmo’s Devilgram. 

Okay so someone in the obey me tag the other say headcanoned that Belphie will go out of his way to nap in ridiculous places and my brain really took that and RAN WITH IT.

So what happens is that Belphie will fall asleep in the fucking weirdest places. I’m talking on top of the fridge, underneath the dinner table, on top of bookshelves...you name it, he has slept there, no matter the effort it takes to get there in the first place. 

And, ever since you two started dating, you would join him. Sometimes it involved putting yourself at risk of great bodily harm, but the little smile he gave when you he saw you fucking scaling the countertop to reach him made it worth it.

So anyway, since Beel adores the both of you to no end, he takes pictures whenever he sees you two napping together, whether or not it is in a crazy place. He sends these to the family group chat because he thinks they’re adorable.

Over a span of weeks to months, Asmo has built up a stock of images of you and Belphie cuddles up in seemingly impossible places. Once he has about ten or so, he posts a compilation of them to his Devilgram with some cheesy ass caption like “The things we do for love <3″.

They become a meme SO QUICKLY. Like UNBELIEVABLY quickly. 

The picture of you and Belphie sleeping on top of a bookshelf, in particular, is a big hit. Memes abound.

“If my girl doesn’t climb up a bookshelf to cuddle my ass, she don’t love me.” “Get yourself a partner who scales bookshelves just to be with your ass.” Etc etc...Belphie doesn’t give a shit but you laugh at a lot of them so he sees that as a good outcome.

[itsdanii]

Kyahhh your rejecting you and regretting series is just so freaking good . Uhmmm idk if you are taking requests right now but can I please request for Ushijima and Kita?Thank you so much!

Rejecting you and regretting it pt. 4

one | two | three | four

Hey, bub. I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my works. Here's your request for the part 4 and final (as of now) part of the rejecting and regretting you series. Have a good day and stay hydrated! ♥️

genre: angst to fluff

warnings: semi-rude behavior (resolved), no cursing in this one because these men drink their respect women juice daily

ft. ushijima wakatoshi, kita shinsuke

title says it all

Kita Shinsuke

Kita is your childhood friend

The moment the two of you were introduced to each other by your grandmothers, you instantly clicked

Same as through with him, you loved spending your time being productive and following a certain routine so it's no question that as you both grew up, you started gaining romantic feelings towards him

You've been thinking of confessing but never really had the chance because he was always busy with volleyball practice

So when you finally managed to get some alone time, you didn't hesitate to voice out your feelings, not knowing that the answer you're hoping for isn't the answer you're going to get

"You're staring again."

You snapped out of your thoughts when Kita stopped infront of you, his eyebrows furrowing as he studied your face.

"Are you alright?"

"Oh, uh, yes! I'm sorry. I was just thinking," you answered sheepishly while scratching the back of your head.

You mentally cursed yourself for spacing out on him. This is the only chance you're getting and you can't afford to waste it.

"About what?" Shinsuke asked as you both continued your walk on the way home since you only live apart each other. Plus, his grandma had always told him to never let you walk home alone especially at night.

"Huh?"

"You said you were thinking. About what?" Shinsuke gently tugged at the sleeve of your jacket, changing your positions so that he was closer to the road than you are.

You felt yourself blushing at the small gesture and looked at his hand that was still holding your jacket.

You swallowed the lump forming inside your throat and stopped walking, the act stopping Kita as well due to him holding you.

Kita looked at you worriedly and placed both hands on your shoulders, his head dipping slightly to get a closer look at your face. "Are you oka-"

"You," you answered without focusing your gaze to him. "I've been thinking about you."

When you felt him taking his hands off your shoulders, you immediately looked up. "Sorry, did I make you uncomfortable?"

The look he had is something you can't decipher but if you were to analyze it based on what you can see, it's a look you never wanted to see again.

Silence reigned the two of you, eyes staring at each other as if you're both trying to figure out what the other was thinking.

"No," Kita said, breaking the silence. "But it's best if we don't discuss the issue any further."

At that, he faced forward and continued walking as if nothing happened but as you stared at his back, you realized that somehow, he knew what you were trying to imply.

And the sad part is that he chose to ignore it and act unbothered as if he didn't just indirectly broke your heart.

Once you reached your destination, you faced him with an anxious smile and Kita didn't fail to notice this, as well as your habit of shifting from foot to foot whenever you wanted to say something.

"I like you, Shin," you blurted out nervously, your heart beating erratically and your palms becoming sweaty. "I don't know when it started but suddenly, I just woke up and realized that what I'm feeling towards you is no longer within the range of friendship. It's something more and I just wanted to let you know."

"I am well aware of that but I'm sorry, y/n. I can't return your feelings."

You bit your lower lip to hold in your tears and as much as you wanted to shout at him to accept your confession, you can't just force someone to love you back because it doesn’t work that way.

"Geez, can't you even say it gently?" you said with a forced chuckle. "Don't worry, I won't hold any grudges."

You let out a sigh before looking up at him and Kita was surprised to see that there are no traces of anger. He expected you to lash out but it seemed like he was wrong.

"I'll see you tomorrow then. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" With that, you stood on your tiptoes and pressed a kiss on his cheek before turning around to cross the road.

Kita could only stare at you as he watched you enter your household, your figure vanishing from his sight as the door finally closed.

Kita is a practical man.

He knows how to separate what is right from what is wrong.

Because of this, people often see him as someone who's perfect, sometimes even being compared to a robot due to his nature. But Kita is far from perfect, and he knew that.

Because as he laid in his bed that night, he realized that he just made a big, wrong decision, and he had nobody but himself to blame.

-

Kita didn't know if he should be happy or not. Actually, he should be happy. After all, he just rejected you and still, here you are, walking beside him as you made your way to school.

He kept glancing at you, observing wether you were pretending or not but he knew that it isn't in your nature to be a pretentious person. You've always worn your emotions on your sleeve which made it too easy for people to read you.

"Ah, Shin. You don't have to walk me home later," you said with a sheepish smile. "My friend is actually going to walk me home so.."

"Alright. Be sure to send me a message when you're on the way home." Despite how 'normal' it sounded, Kita was actually feeling something unpleasant inside him. It was a feeling he was well aware of but had never experienced himself.

The day progressed fast. One moment, he was entering his first class and the next, he's already checking wether all the sports equipment were put back in their proper places.

As he walked out of the gym, Kita instinctively brought out his phone to check for any messages, yours to be specific.

"Ya alright, Kita-san?" came Atsumu.

Kita simply nodded and glanced at his phone again before keeping it, disappointment filling him as he realized that you're not planning to message him at all.

Without you to walk home with, Kita decided to join his team mates, yet despite the noise his team naturally carried, Kita's mind was still preoccupied.

He thought of how you must be doing or if you arrived home safely. He thought of how different the things would've turned out if he hadn't rejected you.

He thought of you.

"Isn't that y/n-san?"

Kita's attention immediately went back to Earth, his eyes following the direction Atsumu was pointing at and just like he said, you were indeed at the other side of the road, walking alone while hugging yourself as you shivered ever so slightly.

Without any words, Kita headed towards your direction and his team mates knew better than to interfere. After all, they knew their captain well. It wasn't that hard to notice how off he was today.

"I thought I told you to message me."

You gasped as Kita suddenly appeared beside you, draping his jacket over your shoulder which immediately surrounded you with his familiar scent.

"Sorry, I forgot," you said while tugging at the end of his jacket sleeves.

"Mhm, and you also said that your friend is going to walk you home yet I don't see anyone beside you." Kita said with a serious tone.

"About that..." You scratched the back of your head as you tried to think of any excuses but you knew that lying would be pointless.

"What if someone kidnapped you? Or worse, took advantage of you? You know I don't like you walking alone especially when the sun had already set yet you still did it. Why did you lie?"

You felt like a child being scolded by your mother but instead of taking it the wrong way, you knew that Kita was only looking out for you. It was just ironic that he broke your heart yet still showed his deep concern for your being.

"It's because I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," you finally admitted. "I just confessed to you yesterday and I thought thay maybe I might make you uncomfortable if I kept sticking beside you. I didn't want to be an inconvenience."

"What are you talking about?" Kita stopped walking and turned towards you. "You were never an inconvenience and will never be one."

"Sorry, Shin."

"No. I should be the one to apologize. I made a very rash decision yesterday and ended up rejecting you. I thought that having romantic feelings towards someone would just be a waste of time but I came to realize that it isn't a waste of time if its with you," Kita said with a gentle look on his face.

You didn't speak for a few seconds and just let his words sink in, a feeling of hope igniting inside you when you realized what he was trying to say. "Do you mean that?" you asked hopefully.

"Have I ever lied to you?" Seeing you shake your head no, Kita leaned in to press his forehead against yours. "I like you, y/n."

You felt your heart beat picking up with those simple words and without waiting for anything else, you pressed your lips against his.

Ushijima Wakatoshi

Being the cousin of Tendou Satori had its perks

And one of those perks is the opportunity to see Ushijima everyday

You are only a year younger than them yet despite that, you get along with the team very well

After all, it had been a part of your daily routine to always visit the school's gym

What you didn't expect, however, was to fall for a certain captain

And you, being one of the most open and honest person, confessed the moment you realized your feelings towards him

And despite being turned down several times already, you still persisted, claiming that you'll do everything to make him fall for you

But sometimes, no matter how hard you try, it just isn't enough

"Where's 'Toshi?" you asked Satori when you entered the gym, flashing a small smile to the others before sitting down on an empty bench.

"Talking to the coach." Satori looked at the plastic you were holding and grinned as he noticed what was inside. "Really, y/n-chan? You know that won't work on Ushiwaka, right?"

You just shrugged and placed the item beside you. "It's worth a try, 'Tori. Who knows? Maybe I'll finally be able to get a reaction out of him."

"Y/n."

You looked behind you upon hearing Wakatoshi. "Hi, Toshi. Did you miss me?" you said and flashed him a bubbly smile.

"You always come here everyday. I do not see any reason for me to miss you," he simply answered before taking a seat beside you, eyes glancing at the carrot stuffed toy before focusing on the court.

Satori, who witnessed the whole exchange, just laughed at you, his eyes squinting as he clutched his stomach in tears. "Well, there's your reaction," he said while still catching his breath.

"You don't have to be so mean, Toshi." You pouted and handed him the stuffed toy you brought.

"What's this for?" he asked in slight confusion while examining the carrot you gave him.

"That's a gift. Haven't you noticed? Its been 8 months since I started courting you." You grinned at him.

"Oh? Y/n's courting captain?" came Tsutomu who was wiping his sweat with a clean towel, eyes glancing at the carrot before he exclaimed, "I want one too!"

"Have it." Your eyes widened when Ushijima handed the carrot stuffed toy to Tsutomu. "I don't need it, and please stop giving me stuff from now on. They are irrelevant."

"I worked hard for that! You don't know how much token I spent just to get that from the claw machine!" You frowned at Wakatoshi and took the toy from Tsutomu who's now obviously confused with what's happening.

"Then I'll pay the amount you spent. Just stop giving me random stuff from now on. I don't need them and I don't have any feelings for you," Ushijima said with a passive voice.

You bowed your head and Satori immediately panicked, his arm reaching out to you but you only recoiled. "You're the worst, Toshi!" you yelled at Ushijima before dropping the toy on the floor and running out of the gym.

All three of them were in shock at your outburst, completely not expecting you to say such thing. You've always been bubbly around them so hearing those words from you was something they never expected coming.

"I think you made y/n mad, Captain," Tsutomu said while picking the carrot and dusting it off.

"But all I did was say the truth," Ushijima reasoned out, eyes focused on Tsutomu who was now hugging the toy that was supposed to be his.

Satori just sighed and turned around to go back practicing.

"Captain?" Tsutomu muttered with a confused look as Ushijima suddenly took the carrot from him.

"It's mine."

-

For the sixth time of the day, Ushijima glanced at the closed door of the gym.

It had been almost a week and he haven't caught a single glimpse of you. No visits, no 'coincidentally' bumping on each other despite having different floor levels, nor surprised bentos. Nothing. It basically felt as if you don't exist anymore.

He doesn't even know why he seemed bothered with it. Wasn't it him who pushed you away? He should feel relieved now that you were no longer bothering him, right?

Then why did it felt like he was missing you?

"Y/n's not coming," Tendou said beside Ushijima.

"I know. They haven't been visiting lately." Ushijima stared at Tendou seriously, making the red hair chuckle before raising his hands up in surrender.

"I don't have any idea where y/n-chan is. Even if I do, my lips are sealed," Tendou said before making a zipper motion.

Ushijima sighed and looked down at the ball resting between his feet. "I don't like it when they're avoiding me."

"Hm, I can't blame my cousin for doing that though. They've been pining over you for quite a while now and each time they confess, you end up rejecting them. I guess yesterday was their breaking point," Satori explained with a shrug, "Maybe you got used to the feeling of them coming back everytime you reject them that you don't know how to feel now that they stopped chasing you."

"I..like y/n."

Just as he said those words, the gym doors suddenly opened. You entered with your usual bubbly expression, a wrapped bento in hand as you made your way to them.

"I noticed that you weren't carrying your bento awhile ago so I brought it with me," you said as you handed the bento to Satori, not even bothering to spare a glance at Ushijima who was intensely looking at you.

"Y/n," Ushijima said making you turn to him.

"Yes Ushijima-san?"

Ushijima blinked at the mention of his surname. He knew that it was normal for people to call him Ushijima since it was his name but hearing you say it seemed bothering for some reason. He was used to you calling him either Toshi or Waka-kun.

"I like you, y/n," he said without hesitation.

Satori facepalmed at Ushijima's straightforwardness. Deciding to give you both some space, he stood up and walked away with his bento, leaving the two of you to talk.

You sat down and crossed your arms over chest, body facing Wakatoshi as you waited for him to explain and apologize properly.

"I'm sorry for how I acted a few days ago, I was merely being honest that time, but now I realized that I like you too... and I also did not mean to disregard your efforts just to get Mr. Carrot," Ushijima said while slightly scooting closer to you, his hand obviously trying to reach for yours.

"You named the stuff toy Mr. Carrot?" you asked with a raise of an eyebrow. "I thought you didn't need it.."

"That was a mistake. Mr. Carrot is actually sleeping in my bed as of this moment." The side of Ushijima's lips curled up when you giggled, the sound making his heart race.

"I appreciate you trying to be nice to me, Toshi, but you really hurt me back then, you know? I even had to stay away for a couple of days," you said before looking down at your lap to play with your fingers.

Panic started bubbling up inside Ushijima at your sudden silence. Swallowing the lump inside his throat, he asked you carefully, "Do you still like me? I'm really sorry, y/n. I missed your presence inside the gym. It's not the same without you. It's been too... quiet. Please give me another chance."

You lifted your head upon hearing that, clearly not expecting Ushijima to say those words in almost a pleading manner.

Ushijima took your surprised reaction as a cue to continue. He carefully took your hand in his, his hand completely engulfing yours as he intertwined your fingers. "I won't be aggressive towards you anymore. I know you said you hate me and I'm not the best at this kind of things but for you, I'll try."

You pulled your hand away from him, only to quickly wrap your arms around him, the action obviously catching Ushijima off guard. "I never hated you, 'Toshi," you mumbled with your face buried to his chest.

"Does that mean you still like me?" He said as soon as he composed himself, an unusual soft expression forming on his face when he felt you nodding.

You felt yourself melting even more to his touch when he secured an arm around your waist. "I like you so much, 'Toshi," you said as you looked up him.

"I like you too, y/n." With that, Ushijima leaned down to press a lingering kiss on your forehead.

likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated ♥️

a/n: lately, my mind has been filled with wakatoshi ushijima

[risatawine]

Finally. - The Clock is Ticking Collab

Levi x reader

Summary: A journey through your time with the man you love

Tags: MANGA SPOILERS, SFW, AFAB, Pregnancy, Cannonverse, Angsty, Kinda Fluffy, talk of death

Word Count: 3.9k

A/N: Alright, first official fanfic that has ever seen the light of day. Thank you to @sintiva for hosting this "The Clock is Ticking Collab" and providing an opportunity for someone who has never done this to dip their toes in the water. Also big thank you to all the fanfic writers that I have read since middle school its through your work that I feel inspired... remember most of the people who write for our enjoyment do it for free. Feel free to comment on any glaring eorrors in my writing and I sincerely hope you enjoy it!

Finally… it ends. Life doesn’t flash before your eyes… it fades in and out—a highlight reel of sorts. With a warm yellow hue and fuzzy borders, your life plays before you as you hang in the balance of life and death, time stills. At each flutter of your lid, a reminiscent dream plays. You’re not at all shocked at the first face you see—your husband.

~~~~

You can smell the thick musky air. A silhouette is standing above you. You lay on the muddy ground, your chest aches from your lungs attempting to expand. The shadow just fought off some other kids and teenagers beating you for the slice of moldy bread you just stole. The beating is a symptom of living underground. The shadow turns around and extends a hand down at you. Hesitantly you reach up, the stranger pulling you from the ground in a quick, almost painful motion. Now able to make out the face of your savior, the first thing you notice is his steel eyes, black brows pinched above them. “What do I owe?” you ask as confidently as you can muster. Knowing nothing down here is free.

“tsk..” the sound scratches out of his teeth as he rolls his eyes and turns away. The first time you heard that sound, it annoyed you. So pretentious, so dismissive, so annoying. It soon became a familiar thing that brought you comfort. His voice cuts in, “We can talk about that once you’ve cleaned up, you’re filthy” In the end, you agreed to join his gang of friends. It took a while for him to trust your ability. Despite your first meeting, you could throw a punch when you weren’t starving and outnumbered by so much.

You stand in the makeshift kitchen brewing a cup of tea while Levi, Isabel, and Farlan talk about their stolen maneuver gear. You walk over, handing him the tea and dropping down onto the sofa next to him. An appreciative look shoots your way when you meet his eyes. No words are exchanged, and none need to be, you understand. Jumping into the conversation, you lean forward and ask questions about how the gear functions. You do your best not to make a big deal of the warm hand that is gently placed on the small of your back. Letting it rest and feeling comfort in the physical contact. The voices fade away in echoes as a dull light blurs your sight.

~~~

A cool breeze kisses your cheeks as the blue sky comes into view. Your body is sore and tired after the grueling expedition. Your heart and stomach ache from grief and shock. Levi sits next to you, his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees. He didn’t say a word the whole journey back other than giving reports and shouting orders. Petra’s dad meeting him in the street caused even those communications to stop. You weren’t in his squad, having been separated to offer support to another squad who needed a little extra skill mixed in. You remember what Isabel and Farlan’s death did to him. You have no idea how much time you had been sitting in silence next to one another. Suddenly his voice cuts the quiet air with a sharp tone, thick with sorrow and anger. “What are you doing wasting your time here?” His voice is harsh, a hiss almost. Having spent years with Levi you didn’t flinch anymore at his weaponized words.

“I’m sitting” you state in a monotoned voice. Not wanting to leave the question unanswered but knowing if you gave into his harsh tone and spat back or walked off it would hurt him. That’s what he wanted really; he wanted your reaction to act as a punishment to him.

“tsk,” the familiar sound rings again at your straightforward answer. “that’s not what I meant” he states finally lifting his head and shoulders. He leans back and looks to the sky, you can see the tense muscles in his neck as you glance over to watch his movement.

“What did you mean then?” Curious about his answer, somewhat surprised by his willingness to talk, maybe the loss of his friends and comrades has his walls lowered.

“What are you doing wasting your time with me?” His voice is low in volume and in tone. Eyes locked at the clear sky as the sun changes the hues with its departure.

You watch him closely, examining his unmoving face for any hint to show his intention behind the question. A minute passes before you determine the appropriate response, “I’m not wasting my time Levi, you should know that”

His response is quickly calculated but choked out “You’ll just end up dead.”

You have had feelings for him for almost as long as you’ve known him, and you know he shares those feelings. Neither of you has acted or talked about the feelings because the time was never right. There was always some threat that stopped you from having the emotional or mental energy to figure out what was happening between you two. Every now and then you’d share a loving touch that the other pretended to ignore. Your eyes would stay locked for a second too long. Your faces would get just a little too close. At this moment you knew it wasn’t right. Levi was dealing with a huge loss and you both were tired. You also knew at this moment he needed comfort, he needed hope, something to push him forward other than his overbearing duty to save humanity. Your head spins with emotion and calculations before your brain gives up from the exhaustion and says the thought before you could filter it “We both might die, but I don’t want to spend another moment waiting for one of us to die before I get to experience a love with you” your face tints pink but your body doesn’t move holding its position awaiting his response.

His breath hitches, finally looking at you. You feel his gaze scan your face before you finally make eye contact with him. Your glossy orbs communicate to him the emotions that didn’t come spewing out of your mouth. His eyes go through your skin and bore into your soul. His silence makes your body rigid and stiff. He finally looks away leaning his head back to watch the now entirely orange sky. “I’ll try” he says firmly.

“What?” you genuinely seek clarification now turning your body to face him not allowing your body to relax too much.

“I’ll try to love” he pauses “I have feelings for you, but I don’t know how to do this, and I can’t lose you. It will break me. If I let myself have a love with you, it’s just another thing for the world to take away from me” He looks back down at you his body mirroring yours facing you bringing you so close to each other you can feel the heat of his breath on your face.

“Well, let’s try” you state as you bring your hand up to his chest feeling his heartbeat. He raises his hand to the back of your neck cradling your head as the other grips your waist pulling him forward into him. Your lips crash into his. Years of emotion spill into your heart at once as your tongues dance together in a fiery passion. Both of your faces become flushed pink when you finally pull away from each other. Your heart is in a conflict between the joy of the moment and the somber reality of what just happened. You close your eyes and lean forward resting your head on Levi’s shoulder listening to his quickened heartbeat.

~~~

You open your eyes and you’re in bed, lying next to your boyfriend. It’s been 3 months since he had to choose between saving Armin or Erwin. He hasn’t been the same since then. He’s always been the silent type, but he was usually affectionate towards you peppering kisses on your skin whenever he could, whispering praise in your ear about how good you looked or how much he loved you. Since that day though he was not doing any of that. He wouldn’t let himself give any emotion away. He didn’t want to give pieces of himself to people that could be taken from him, or worse that he would have to choose to let go for the greater good. He hasn’t held you in his arms, he hasn’t said anything outside of business and small talk. After two weeks of the treatment, you asked him if he wanted you to move out of his room, figuring he needed space. He responded to that with a stern look that turned somber before stating “it’s up to you.” You saw that your suggestion hurt his feelings and was ashamed of yourself. It’s not your fault that he was so cryptic with his feelings, what you would give to understand that man’s head better.

It’s late and you have been laying in bed for several hours unable to have enough peace to fall asleep. You could tell Levi was awake still too because of his breathing, not yet taking the long breaths of slumber. He is facing away from you on the edge of the bed and your body mirrors him on the opposite side. You want to feel his presence, you want to feel his warmth, his comfort. A part of you can’t help but feel mad because even though he had to go through something terrible, so did you. You knew Erwin for just as long and had a relationship with him too, not to mention all the other soldiers that died that day. You had the courtesy to let him grieve in the way he needed to, but he was not extending the courtesy to let you grieve the way you needed to.

“Levi” you muster in a small voice. Nervous about how to bring your issues up to him. You wanted to be sensitive to his needs, but you also needed support and you were tired of waiting.

“hmmm” his voice is low but unwavering, he shuffles slightly laying on his back to hear you better.

“I don’t know how to say this, but have you had enough time be—”

“What are you talking about? Just spit it out already.” He has always been straightforward, but you’d be lying if you didn’t say it stung a little this time in your current emotional state.

“I need you; I’m hurting too, and you have let me out to dry.” You get straight to it not wanting him to lash out again.

“W-what do you mean...?” his voice falters filled with concern now at your accusation.

“I mean Levi... ugh” groaning out of frustration from your own emotions “You have been completely absent for the better part of three months, and I let you because you needed to mourn in your way and you needed to get through your shit but I have been going through this too and this is something we could have... no we should have done together, and I’m all alone now...” out of breath from your rant you feel a weight lift from your chest as you rid yourself from the emotional burden.

Levi sits in silence for a moment, and you let him process the words. A single tear leaves your eye choking back a sob. “I told you I would try” he states pausing to collect his words “but I don’t know how to do this” he adjusts now laying on his side facing your back.

“Then ask, I don’t need you to know everything but just have the courtesy to ask every now and then.” You adjust yourself now lying on your back instead of facing away from him not quite ready to look him in the eyes.

“Okay, what do you need right now? Do you want to talk or, yell, do you want some tea?” His anxiety is somewhat evident, eager to please you and eager to get back on to good terms.

“I just need to be held.” Whispered as you roll to face him, eyes glossy and lip quivering slightly.

He pulls you toward him your forehead touching his hard chest and your head resting on his bicep, flexed from the bend in his elbow so his hand could hold your shoulder rubbing small circles to your exposed skin. Overcome with emotion you begin to sob; three months of loneliness deprive your lungs of air, the overbearing loss of your old commander and all the scouts tear a hole in your heart. Levi’s thin t-shirt is wet with a mess of your tears and snot by the time your sobs finally stopped. Head is now throbbing from the tearful hour and your throat is hoarse from the sobs. Levi is gently rubbing your back as his deep voice alternates between “let it all out” and “it’s going to be okay” as he does his best to comfort you.

In all honesty, it felt terrible having to relive all the pain and loss again, but you were relieved because it meant you could finally heal. Allowing yourself the time to grieve and the time to feel everything. After sobbing you were suddenly aware of the heat from Levi’s body and the comfort of his arms again, finally feeling like you could get a half-decent night of sleep.

“I love you” he whispers as you doze off, finally back in your lover’s arms. The next morning you were surprised when you woke to the warm kiss of the sun peeking through the window. Your heart sinks when you feel the absence of Levi’s presence. Lifting your head you find a note on his bedside table.

“My Love,

Enjoy your sleep. Don’t worry about work today I spoke to Hange, you

have the day off. I want you to spend the day resting and doing whatever

you need to do to feel better. I’m not too busy today so if you need me for

anything please come to my office. Thank you for letting me continue to

try. I love you.

Levi”

Smiling you fold the note to place in the drawer of your nightstand. Lids falling back to a closed position, taking up your lover’s offer to take the day. The warm sun makes your eyelid let off an orange hue.

~~

The orange candlelight burns bright in the bathroom of the shared townhome. A year has passed since the rumbling and Levi has been fully recovered for a little bit now. Therefore you find it annoying that you are about to go through nine months of feeling poorly as soon as he begins to feel better. You haven’t told him about your condition yet. You’re sitting in the bathroom early morning as you finally put all the symptoms together. Levi was out of the townhome to pick up some fresh pastries from the baker down the road.

The door to your home opens and closes as you finished brushing your teeth. Walking out of the bathroom you meet Levi in the kitchen as he places the pastries on the counter heading to the cupboard with the tea. His eyebrow raises as he looks at you in the hallway from the side of his eye. “You look like shit, why are you even awake this early?” he scoffs inquisitively.

“Good morning, Levi, thank you for your kind words first thing in the morning. I simply love the way you romance me.” The sarcasm is thick in your voice. Your eyes can’t help but look at the bottom of his stomach as his shirt lifts slightly as he reaches up for the tea. You scold yourself almost as quickly because it was thought like these that put you in your current position. You were nervous, Levi and you had never talked about kids except for once many years earlier when you determined bringing kids into a world like this would be cruel. But the world is not like that anymore. No titans, no war, there were still issues as the world worked out how to co-exist with Eldians, but you had faith in Armin to assist in ironing out those wrinkles. How do you even tell him? Will he be happy? Is he ready? Are you? Levi looks over to you after successfully obtaining the tea box

“What’s wrong?” Suddenly aware that your face betrayed you in sharing your worry with him before you were ready.

“I have to tell you something, and I don’t know how you are going to react.” You answer, not lifting your eyes from the fixed spot on the counter.

“Well, just spit it out brat” his patience is as thin as ever, you watch as he limps over to stand on the opposite side of the counter. Again, thankful that there was a doctor from Marley who knew how to give him a prosthetic leg.

Looking up to his face finally your eyes scan his face in the hope to find a reaction to news you haven’t even told him yet. His scars were looking so good healed up, a testament to his strength, to what he was able to survive. Reminded of his strength you worked up the courage to tell him. “I think I am pregnant.”

His body is impossibly still in this moment, his breath stuck in his throat. The quiet morning air adds to your anxious shiver. “What do you mean you think?” he says after a moment.

“I am late on my period, and I just finished throwing up in the bathroom, my breasts are tender, and I have been exceedingly emotional the past few weeks”

A smile cracks onto his face his good eye begins to glisten. He walks around the counter to stand by you. Following his movement, you turn to face him as he approaches before, you’re stunned by the strength of his arms as he embraces you tightly and lifts you from your feet turning in a circle.

“Wait you’re happy,” you said, you expected him to be somewhat saddened. Often the fact that he was alive while so many were gone made him somber during life’s moments as he felt undeserving. So, when he was acting genuinely happy it was refreshing and your heart began to sing.

He suddenly set you down and rushes out of the kitchen “Stay there” He yells as he walks away returning almost as quickly as he left. He holds a little velvet pouch in his hand duping the item in his palm before laying the bag on the counter. You try to tell what it is but are unable to. He looks into your eyes holding a closed fist in between the both of you near your chest.

“What?” it comes out of your lips with a light-hearted yet very confused chuckle. Before his fist opens slowly revealing the item. A ring, an elegant thin silver band twists itself a beautiful green gem in the middle. It’s small and dainty not too flashy, but beautiful and elegant, nonetheless.

As your eyes examine the token in his hand he speaks up “I would get down on one knee, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t be able to get back up. You taught me how to accept love and I told you I would try; I have been trying to find the right time to do this but there was always something going on. I wanted to wait till I was completely healed before I asked, but then you told me this and I knew it was now or never. Will you marry me?” He never rambles like this, it’s clear that he’s nervous, and it’s adorable.

Your eyes swell up and you don’t hold them back as a cheesy grin finds itself on your face. “Yes, Levi! Of course.” your heart sings and beats in flutters as his arms sweep you into another hug lifting your feet. Finally setting you down his lips crash into yours.

~~

Over the next several years the two of you raised 3 beautiful children. Erwin, Isabel, and Farlan were their names, you tried to convince him to have one more to name it Hange. Instead, you both opened a tea shop in town and named it Hanges. You often reflected on those you lost, how they never got enough time to see the end of the war.

You fell in love with each other every day. The way he held your hand, the way you brewed his tea. How he let himself be less reserved with your children but was just as strict when they were getting into trouble. He loved how you taught them how to handle all their emotions and gave them space to be vulnerable. He loved that they wouldn’t have to go through the growing pains he did. Overall, you were both happy that you survived long enough to see this. It was still sad every now and then, when birthdays or death dates passed, or when Farlan who was too curious for his own good asked too many questions.

You wouldn’t trade it for the world though. Now in your loved home Levi, the father of your children and the love of your life sat at your bedside holding your hand. You couldn’t believe you made it to this age, dying of age never seemed an option before. His other hand rest on your greyed head. Weakly you open your eyes to see him, reminiscent of all the memories you just saw again. “I can’t believe I’m going to die before you, I mean you were blown up for Ymir’s sake.” Your chuckle turns to a cough, out of breath you sigh. You see a faint smile on his face.

“I guess I’m just too stubborn to die” he responds trying to keep the light mood going for your sake.

“Ah well, Hange was always right in the end anyway.” Sitting up slightly his body instinctively goes to adjust your pillow offering more support for your neck.

“You can go.” His voice is serious and quiet, sad but not angry. “I know you’re worried, about me. About how I will be. I will be okay. I have the kids, the grandkids, and the tea shop. I don’t want you to hold on for me anymore, you’ve done more than enough. You don’t owe me anything and you’ve done more than pay your dues for when I saved you in the alley, you deserve to rest. I will meet you there when it’s my turn” Tears stream steadily out of his ducts, he recognizes the state of your affairs. He knows you better than he knows himself. He wants to give you peace.

“Oh, Levi” your hand weakly reaches his cheek his coming to meet it to hold it to the scars on his face. “I love you” His tears wet your delicate fingertips.

“I love you” he replies watching your face.

Your eyes close, a faint smile on your face. Darkness sweeps over you for a brief moment before a bright wight light shines in your eyes. A crowd of silhouettes stands before you and you know immediately that they were there. Everyone you lost, everyone you missed. The ones that didn’t get enough time, were watching as Levi and you lived out your lives to the fullest. Savoring every moment. Finally.

[sirensmojo]

"A Man Who Drinks Tea" Hubby! Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: Big Fluff & Mushy

{not my gif, credits to its owner}

Summary: Tommy being oh so soft every time you prepare him some hot tea.

*Masterlist*

*Arrow House*

One of your shoulders leant on the frame of the doorstep, your arms crossed on your chest as your eyes were staring towards the lamps of the car coming near you.

It was past nine, which meant it was Tommy coming home. He sometimes would come home past eleven or even twelve, but you knew his “normal” hour for him to come home.

If you were not asleep when he was back, you would always welcome him properly, which meant at the doorstep. Whatever the weather was, you were here.

It was your way of saying that you cared about him, that you missed him, without stepping into his zone.

You knew Tommy needed balance, and he could never find that at work or in his business. You weren’t pretentious enough to say you were bringing him that, but you were the closest thing to balance for him, without a doubt.

Although if you were into your husband’s mind you would know that for him you were not only his balance but also his light and hope. Not that he believed in such thing anymore, but it wasn’t about “believing” in that situation, it was facts, you were hope to him.

Once he got out of the car, a smile drew on your face and you straightened up. “Hey, honey.” You muttered with an enthusiastic tone as he stopped in front of you, dropping his briefcase to the ground to be able to grab your face with both his hands.

This was something you were used to now, whenever he would see you leaning against the front door frame, he would drop anything that was in his hands and rushed to hold your head.

This moment was the first skin contact you and him had each day as he was leaving early in the morning, and that was his favourite one. All-day long he could only see you by closing his eyes, and there you were, sleeping under his lids waiting for him to reach for you.

The picture of your smile and your hair perfectly framing your face was his way out from a too harsh and complicated world. But the thing he liked the most in thinking about you at work was when he was imagining you welcoming him, the twinkling of the stars reflecting in your staring eyes.

He knew, only by looking into them, all of the things he needed to know. All your feelings and the depth of them.

The wrinkles at the corner of his blue eyes alarmed you about the hard day he must have had. Still, it was with nothing but tenderness that he was rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs before he slowly pecked your lips.

His lips were so soft and tasted like whiskey. You loved that liquor, even more on your husband’s lips, but there wasn’t a day his lips tasted any different, there wasn’t a day when he wasn’t drinking.

Since the first time you met to this day, he hasn't stopped drinking, not even less with time. It seems like the more he was reaching his goals, the more whiskey he needed.

Maybe there was a hole somewhere that needed to be filled and he tried to fill it with what he had, or maybe he just never had enough of anything, as he wanted everything? You didn’t have the answer to that question and you probably never will.

“Tea?” You offered him when he pulled away to keep looking at you. You raised your brows, waiting for his answer but you already knew that answer. Of course, he wanted your tea.

This was all he ever took when coming back from work, a hot English tea that you would make from leaves coming straight from the garden.

If you couldn’t stop him from drinking whiskey, you could still fill his tummy with something else than alcohol.

You could glimpse his lips curving to a smile as a curious gleam appeared in his eyes, “How was your day?” His deep voice echoed in your head like a hammer, you missed him so much during the day that every of his few first words to you when coming home would bring shivers down your spine.

“Went to the gin factory, trying other combinations.” You let him know.

He took back his briefcase in one hand, the other around your waist so he could pull you closer.

“Found any?” He raised a brow to you as he entered the house. The maids were here to meet him and before they could say anything, you dismissed them by a single look.

“I’m still working on it.”

No need to say here that in that house you were in charge. Tommy ran the professional part of this family and you ran the personal part.

Organizing dinners with high-society people, socializing and creating connections with them so Tommy could have more opportunities.

Tommy trusted you with his life, he wouldn’t let anyone get close to his business, not even his own brothers and family. Nevertheless, he put you in charge of the Gin Distillery, even got your name on the bottles.

It was true, you were the one that told him about investing in alcohol, but what man listens to his wife in this area? Not many, but your Tommy did, he knew your value and was seeking your judgment when unsure of anything, truly, even business sometimes.

You were a team, you were here for him and he was here for you.

“I got the tea served in your office, my love.” You called him out when seeing him walking towards the living room. “It’s Thursday, you’ll speak at the House Of Commons tomorrow, I thought you would want to read more of that political book you started a few days ago.” You offered him a warm smile while pushing the door of his office.

At this very moment, he could literally come to you and carry you to your bedroom so he could express to you how grateful he was for taking care of him like you did, but he knew he got work to do, and you knew it too.

It wasn’t tonight you’ll try to make a baby.

Once he got behind his desk, you purred him some tea in a cup that you knew to be his favourite.

Tommy took a sip on it directly, even if the hotness of the liquid was burning the tip of his tongue. He closed his lids for some seconds, and you could literally witness his tensed muscles relaxing

You neared his chair and slid your fingers under his coat to make him known you wanted it off. Tom shifted position so you could clear it off. You came hanging his coat before dropping both your hands on his shoulders, beginning to massage the knots under his skin.

Your husband let out a growl, still sipping on that tea of yours before he exhaled deeply.

He mumbled something you couldn’t hear.

“Huh?” You asked, leaning your head to one of his sides.

He turned his chair towards you, his icy blue eyes reached your Y/E/C ones before he put down the cup and pulled onto one of your hands laying on his shoulders. You let out a whimper as you fell on him, butt on his lap and arms around his neck.

“I’m never empty of you, not even for a moment.” His dimples lightened up his face so brightly you could swear you were squinting your eyes, trying to get accustomed to that much light on Tommy’s face.

“Is it my tea, troubling you?” You asked, confused but pleased to meet with your Tommy again.

The tips of your fingers were scratching the back of his neck when you couldn’t resist anymore. This vision of him made your heart bumping into your chest so loudly you thought it wanted to get out, to which you responded by sealing your lips to Tommy’s.

He was holding you tight, the distance between your bodies being nonexistent.

And as you thought, his whiskey flavoured lips eased you instantly, it was like your body knew it was home, with your Shelby.

HUBBY! TOMMY SHELBY TAG: @theamuz ;

TOMMY SHELBY TAG: @captivatedbycillianmurphy ; @theamuz ;

PEAKY BLINDERS TAG: @retromafia ;

(ask me if you want to get in one of the tag lists)

[starshipsofstarlord]

Jealous

Pairing | Eric Northman x reader

Summary | bringing your partner to the bar seemed like a good idea in order to have a nice and relaxing night. However, he appears to become jealous as you speak to the owner of Merlottes.

Warnings | smut, jealousy, swearing, exhibition kink, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), squirting, swearing

Requested ✖️

Quick link to my masterlist, if you’re interested in reading more of my crap 😬

A hunger derived in the vampire’s chest, a blossoming swarm of contained rage that made the sheriff clench his fangs and watch with piercing eyes. The laughter that resonated from your chest made him scowl, all because he was the one that was not causing it.

Instead, it was the dog that ran around this human grill, the shifter that more often than not, tried to distance himself from trouble. He was the owner of Merlottes. Sam Merlotte was his name, he had a head full of ashy brown hair, that had ropes of grey pleated through it. He was a nice man, warm and welcoming, the complete opposite of Eric in some sense.

The Viking vampire was known, and to your knowledge to be notorious. He never allowed anything to stand in his way, and if it dared to, he would literally, rip its head off if it had one. And despite that deadly feature that he exhibited, you still claimed to have loved him. The two of you were great together, you seemingly brought out the best in him, apart from right now.

Eric grunted to no one directly as he watched you swish your head side to side, shaking it as you laughed at something the bartender said. All that you were supposed to be doing were ordering drinks, not flirting with another one of the men that had previously been head over heels for Sookie.

With one last glance at the shifter, you turned back, sitting on the opposite side of the booth that Eric had been holding. You brushed your hair over your shoulder, it was obvious that you were relaxed in this environment. It was filled with your friends and neighbours, acquaintances and strangers. But it still, despite the limitless customers, induced you with serenity.

“The drinks will be here in a couple.” Despite informing him, it appeared that he could care less about the time until the order reached the surface of the table.

“Will that animal be serving them?” In reply, you laughed, dismissing the seriousness within his tone. That was, until you maintained eye contact with the tall blonde, noticing the feral presence decreasing the size of his pupil.

“Are you speaking about Sam?” You asked uncertainty, the owner having been the only one that you had conversed with in the bar, excluding Eric, so far. “Oh my god, you are.” Your speculation had been correct, and you couldn’t help but feel a pulse of annoyance within you.

If Eric actually ever listened to you, then he would know that your friends meant the world and more to you, and that included the shapeshifter. “I don’t like the way he was looking at you.” He put it simply, and you could only scoff at his defence. It was hardly a reason for him to appear and treat you so uptight and rudely.

“What, with care? Because news flash, maybe you haven’t noticed everything that I have done for you Eric, but many times my actions have proven that you are it for me. And if you can’t see that, you may as well be human!” To support your active words, you stood, the palms of your hands planted upon the surface of the booth.

Sookie quirked a brow as her head filled with your thoughts, however she had no time to adjust to them or check how you were doing, as you stormed out of the grill, leaving Eric with a frown and a sombre glaze in his untameable eyes.

But she couldn’t help herself from taking your place looking down at the table, judgementally prying Eric with a disgruntled frown. “Did you seriously question y/n’s love with you?!” Her accent came out strong, digging into the tense atmosphere that you had strongly abandoned.

Eric rolled his eyes at her intrusion, finding it to be a familiar, yet frustrating feeling of her always bursting his bubble. “It has nothing to do with you, why don’t you talk some sense into your vampiric boyfriend instead?” He jutted back at her, standing, and brushing off any possible lint from his blazer jacket.

Reaching into his inside pocket, he grabbed a small amount of cash, placing it upon the table, and walking past the half faerie, brushing against her as he went towards the door, leaving. Eric had no worries, he could sense that even whilst he was inside, that you were there, leant up against the wall, awaiting for him to follow after you. It was inevitable that he evens would.

Your arms were crossed, and you were facing the parking lot rather than the entrance. The stature that you upheld made it rather clear that you were angry with his behaviour; and not to mention that it was also in public.

The vampire knew that you loved him, despite Sookie’s feeble accusations. Fighting was not something that the pair of you were estranged to, however it made you furious to know that he would accuse you of being interested in somebody else.

It was certain that if Pam was here she would scold her maker for his uptight, and jealous outburst. But it wasn’t as though she would have been able to prevent it anyways, considering that she was all the way across town in Fangtasia attending to the business ongoing there.

“I do know that you love me.” His voice rang out in the cold of the night, frolicking to your ears and biting your lobes as you still refused to face the tall and unfavourable vampire.

“Right now, that is debatable.” Was your retort, feeling the cold air brush against your face as you felt it pinch your nose. “To not only insult my friend, but embarrass me in front of a bar full of people, that was not how tonight was supposed to go at all!”

Your body jolted as you suddenly felt his body press against the back of your own, his large and explorative hand dragging up the skin of your exposed thigh, that was free of coverage in the casual black dress that you had opted to wear for the occasion.

“I am sorry my lovely dear, you know how I tend to be, especially when I hear other men make you evoke that wonderful and all consuming laugh that gets my dead heart to beat every time.” A hitch of a sigh caught in your throat as you tried to remain unaffected by Eric’s flattery, but it was rather impossible, more so as his hands brushed against the lace of your panties.

On reflex, you snapped his hands away from that part of you, you were in the middle of the parking lot for Christ sakes! Though that did not, nor did it ever seem to phase him, if you were to guess, you had noticed some hints leading to him having an exhibition kink. And it was not as though you had never called him out on it, though, most of the time, you happened to give into his public desires.

It was often portrayed within the context and realm of his workplace; Fangtasia. Within the club, there was a frequent case of rendezvous that the club permitted to take place inside its various walls that were filled with vampires and their lustful humans. The exchanges that took place were anything but loving, they were filled by hunger, and the curiosity that simple people, that thought themselves to be edgy and desirable to the immortal eye, all making the rooms reek of pretentious assholes taking advantage of one another.

“We are not doing that here Eric.” You scolded his efforts, despite your craving for them to take place, and ravish you no matter the surrounding that were into the background anyways. With great resilience, you swatted his north travelling hands away, making them stoic from the adequate dismissal.But Eric Northman was never one to admit defeat, he had a plaguing tendency to get what he wanted, and he was always had a route of persuasion to get it.

“Aren’t we?” He asked wispily unto your drifting head, as though he were corrupting the stubbornness that was attempting to remain untainted in the rafters that floated so correspondingly through your weightless veins. “Then why are we sneaking to the back of the grill?” His words had a frown fired upon your face as you tried to register the truth behind his words, but in time before you could ask the mysterious vampire what he had meant by his words, he had sped you away to the said part that was already close by.

“Mature move.” You muttered, and the consequences of your off handed comment had earned you the vulnerable position of being pressed right up and against the back door, that was only usable to the staff. If you tilted your head just right, you could hear the clattering of plates being stacked, and the distant voices o Arlene and Terry as they partook in a private discussion that was supposed to be inaudible to anyone else’s ears.

Beaing that close to people that you knew, and in such a compromising situation where they could easily catch you, had you clenching your thighs together, clearly frustrated by the scenario of your predicament. Clearly. And with Eric standing smugly inside of you, once trailing his fingers on the high top of your thigh, his skin tasting your flesh that was beneath the dress, did not help the matters of your hormonal state.

“I said I was sorry.” Eric reminded you, stroking your thighs with his age old touch, and at the notion, your legs quivered, responding affective to his seducing touch. “Perhaps I have to prove it, would you like that y/n?” An audible whimper fell from your stiff mouth, evicting an amused and gloating smirk out of your boyfriend. He knew what he had done, he had moulded you into a desperate mess.

“I’d rather you apologise to Sam, and whoever else you happened to insult in your time in there.” Was your response, though he tutted at it, seeing through its mask, understanding what you wanted was for him to do more than just caress your thighs, and nothing more. “Eric.” A moan slipped from your mouth, as he fondled your breasts through the bleak fabric.

At first, you thought that he was going to pull the material down to expose your womanly globes, but instead, he tore straight down the middle of the dress, leaving it hanging from you by nothing more than a thread. His action enraged you only slightly, but before you could open your mouth to tell him off for destroying your clothing, he snapped the elastic of your underwear, leaving the personal garment to drop in a discarded manner at your heeled feet.

“You are indeed a sight for sore eyes. Do you know how jealous I would be if one of those fools came out here, and saw you so exposed? There’d be no words to describe how much I would want to compel them to forget, and you thought I was angry inside. That would be nothing more than an understatement my dear.” His hands cast themselves down to grope at your ass cheeks, pulling a surprised squeal out of your mouth.

This time, you did not try and stop his feeling of your body, instead, you rather encouraged it. Wrapping your hand in his smooth blonde locks, you began to push down, which was difficult considering how high his head was, leaving your arms half up in the air as you tried to make him descend. “Do something Eric, or I will.”

“Here?” He asked with a prominent smirk, feeling your hostile glare and intoxicating pout bore harshly into him. Rolling his eyes, he sighed, giving up on his verbal teasing as he sank to his knees, looking up at you from beside your legs. He pressed a sweet kiss against your navel, trailing down, until he was nipping at the curve of your mound, his hands resting on the back of your thighs, to pull you closer as he ran his tongue along the hood of your clit, making you bang your head back against the door.

The sound made you eyes go wide, as you worried that someone on the inside must have heard, though the thought quickly subsided as Eric began to eat you alive, stuffing his tongue in your entrance, leaving you to be nothing more than a mewling victim that was in distress from the pleasure that he gave you. His nose rubbed against your clit, as he hummed delightedly against you, the vibrations causing your body to quiver.

“Stop.” You panted, though he continued, staring up at you with those light eyes, that held much darkness of his past. “Need you inside of my Ric. Please, need you to fuck me good and hard, just fuck me.” There were tears frustratedly slipping from the corners of your eyes, as you were upheld of relief as Eric moved away, undoing his bottoms, and taking his long cock out, sweeping it against your slit.

“I’ll fuck you darling; let everyone know that your mine.” His free hand held the corner of your chin, plummeting his tongue into your mouth, to have one moment of calm, before he penetrated you, leaving you in a mess that had your eyes rolling to the back of your head and deliriously spinning from the euphoria that you felt. Eric performed at a fast and unrelentingly pace, slamming you hard enough into the door for everyone to hear.

It was certain that people within Merlottes could hear the sounds that were ravaged from your lips, though you were too absorbed in your own pleasure to care at all. Eric fucked into you hard, and you appeared unfazed as someone tried to open the door from the other side, the wood splintering against your back as your boyfriend‘s strength kept it shut, pushing your floundering body back against it.

And then you felt it, the absentminded swirl in your stomach, coaxing you closer and closer to release. Eric filled you first, and then he reached down, rubbing your clit, causing a clear stream to spray out from around his cock, leaving you utterly exhausted. You were half asleep now, and so, Eric picked you up, and sped away, leaving your torn clothes upon the floor, so that anyone that found them would know that it was the pair of you that had been using the outside wall as a mattress for your engagements.

[snelbz]

Life As We Know It {Chapter One}

Summary: After the sudden deaths of Nesta’s sister and Cassian’s best friend, they gain guardianship of their nephew, Nyx.

Based on Life As We Know It (2010) and a prompt sent in by anonymous for our Nessian fanfic contest. This is a modern au.

Instead of doing a tag list for this story, we have decided to have a set posting schedule. Chapters will be posted weekly on Mondays and Thursdays. Chapters will be posted on both my and Tara's blogs! >> @tacmc.

Life As We Know It Masterlist

Shelby's Masterlist

Tara's Masterlist

5 years later….

Nyx looked at his birthday cake and the lone candle that was lit atop the icing before looking up at Feyre with a confused expression on his beautiful, little face.

His mother laughed, quietly, before leaning forward and taking out the candle. She had just blown out the flame when Rhys barely pushed the cake closer to Nyx, who put his chubby, little hands smack-dab in the middle of the icing and dug in.

Everyone had come to celebrate, and even Nesta couldn’t stop her smile from showing. At least, she let it show when she was on the opposite end of the house from the one and only, and massively self-centered, Cassian Nazari.

Of course, he would be at Nyx’s first birthday party. He was Nyx’s uncle - maybe not by blood, not that blood mattered when it came to Cassian, Rhysand, and their other lifelong friend, Azriel.

He, too, stood across the kitchen, watching as Elain snapped picture after picture of the jubilant baby, the mess atop his high chair the largest Nesta had ever seen. She knew Elain was taking notes for their own daughter’s birthday party, though she was barely three months old.

Rhysand’s smile was as big as Feyre’s as they watched their son, listening as his giggles filled the kitchen. Nyx realized quickly that the cake was for him alone and after smashing it for a few moments, he lifted a large handful to his chubby face and took a bite. His eyes lit up and that started the giggling anew.

Nesta loved her nephew and niece, had loved him since the day they were born, but she didn’t envy her sisters and their happy families. Unlike them, she had remained perfectly content on her own, especially after the endless string of disaster dates she had been forced to sit through throughout the years.

And children? It wasn’t that Nesta disliked kids. Not all kids, at least. She loved her nephew and niece, anyway. Having one of her own, though? Having to be around one every day? Every night? Having to constantly try and make a tiny person content?

No, thank you. That was a challenge she had little interest in.

A deep rumbling laugh came from across the house and Nesta looked up to find Cassian entering the kitchen, still chuckling at something Mor had said.

As hard as she tried, she couldn’t keep her lip from curling slightly as she looked at him. It only infuriated her more when he caught sight of her as he raised his beer to his lips and winked.

He was absolutely insufferable.

After their catastrophe of a date years ago, which Nesta had made Feyre promise was a stunt she’d never pull again, she had only been forced to be around Cassian Nazari a handful of times.

One of which was during Feyre and Rhysand’s wedding, only months after their date.

“You only have to walk with him for thirty seconds,” Feyre had sighed, while Mor continued to pin and curl her hair into place. “You don’t have to be happy about it.”

“Good,” Nesta said, draining the glass of champagne in her hand. “Because I’m not.”

As Feyre’s maid-of-honor, it was customary that she was supposed to walk out of the wedding arm in arm with Rhysand’s best man. She wished that he’d picked Azriel, but since it seemed the Cauldron hated her, it had to be Cassian.

Elain, who was harboring the world’s most obvious crush on Azriel at the time, was thrilled with how they’d be exiting the wedding. Nevertheless, she said to Nesta, “I think you two got off on the wrong foot. He’s a really good guy, Nes.”

Nesta shot her youngest sister a look of pure annoyance through the mirror’s reflection. “Have any of you ever been on a date with the guy? And not only a date, but the worst date of your life?”

Feyre snorted, fully aware of where this conversation was headed. “No.”

“Then you have no room to talk,” Nesta snapped, admiring herself in the mirror. “Mother’s tits, Feyre, he wore jeans to the nicest restaurant in Velaris!”

“At least he didn’t wear his boots,” Mor muttered, then she caught Nesta’s glare in the mirror. “Really? He wore his boots?”

“He was dressed for an all-night, summer bonfire,” Nesta said, shaking her head. “And he’s completely full of himself. And, he forgot his wallet!”

“Not like you can’t afford dinner,” Feyre said, and Nesta’s lips snapped shut. She was fully aware that the conversation had somehow become a let’s-pick-on-Nesta session.

Feyre added, “You have to walk back down the aisle with him, share an entire table during dinner, and that’s it. No one is asking you to dance with him, but be nice.” Nesta met Feyre’s eyes, her jaw set. Feyre sighed, “Fine, be civil.”

She scoffed, but nodded. “Fine.”

The ceremony itself went off without a hitch. It was beautiful and elegant and the perfect wedding Rhys and Feyre had always wanted.

She ignored Cassian’s unending looks the whole night, managed to give her maid-of-honor speech without snarling at him, and after that, took advantage of the open bar her sister and new brother had so kindly provided.

She was coming out of the bathroom, a glass of wine still clutched in her hand, doing her best not to trip over her own feet when she walked into a wall.

A wall of solid muscle that turned out to be Cassian’s back.

When he turned around and she looked up at him, his eyes were nearly as glazed as hers.

“Hello, Nes,” he said, smirking down at her.

She bit out, “Don’t call me that.”

“That was a pretty, little speech you gave,” he said, leaning against the wall. “I know true love exists cause I’ve seen it first hand. Poetic.”

Nesta scoffed, brushing off the skirt of her dress as if he had tainted it. “Don’t flatter yourself. I wasn’t referring to you. I was talking about Feyre and Rhys, in case you thought otherwise.”

“Oh, I didn’t,” he promised. “Honestly, I didn’t think you were talking about anyone. Just some fluffy shit that sounded sweet. Unless it’s that guy that showed up at the restaurant and ruined our date. Oh, wait,” he began, tapping his chin as if in deep thought, “You dumped him though, right? Poor bastard.”

“You’re a prick,” Nesta bit out. She refrained from saying that Tomas hadn’t ruined their date. It was sad that seeing her ex was one the bright points of her night, rather than seeing the Greek god standing before her. The pretentious, cocky asshole of a Greek god.

He only grinned. “But am I a liar?”

Nesta’s jaw locked. She eyed his tux. “I’m just glad you decided to clean up for your own brother’s wedding. No jeans?”

He scoffed. “Is that the worst you’ve got?”

“Do you prefer me to give you my worst?” she asked, brows furrowing. “If so, you may want to be careful what you wish for.”

Cassian said nothing, just lifted the beer she hadn’t noticed in his hands to his lips.

Nesta rolled her eyes, brushing past him, and made a move to head back into the reception.

His voice called out behind her, “You don’t have to be such a miserable bitch, you know?”

She froze, looking back at him. He was no longer smirking at her. Instead, his eyes were intense. “Excuse you?”

“You’re so miserable that you won’t allow anyone else to have any fun, won’t allow yourself to either,” he said, still leaning against that damn wall. He crossed his arms over his muscular chest, his dress shirt tight and loose in all the right places. “You want everyone else to suffer, just because you’re forcing yourself to, for whatever reason.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” she bit out, stalking back over to him. She was so close she had to look up into his face.

“I don’t,” he said, words clipped. “I tried, but you didn’t seem very inclined to let me get to know you during our date. You were more concerned with my attire and your ex than you were with me. You thought all I wanted to do was fuck you.” His eyes, still glassy and glazed, dragged down her body and back up again. “Besides, you’ve got that damn stick shoved so far up your ass, there wouldn’t have been room for my cock even if I’d really even tried.”

A blink was Nesta’s only reaction. Then her hand was moving of its own accord, splashing her full glass of wine directly in his face and all over that pretty, white shirt.

“Go fuck yourself,” was all she’d said before she walked back into the ceremony, leaving him there to drip on the venue’s fancy carpet.

“Nesta!”

She blinked, Feyre’s voice drawing Nesta out of her memories, looking over at her sister. She stood next to Rhys and Elain, who had her camera in her hands, and Cassian stood behind Nyx’s high chair.

“I want a picture of him with his godparents, come here,” she beamed and Nesta tried not to cringe.

She had been so proud, her heart feeling like it would burst when Feyre and Rhys had asked her to be Nyx’s godmother. There was no hesitation when she said yes, tears lining her eyes as she’d hugged both her sister and brother-in-law.

She tried not to think about the fact that when they’d told her Cassian was his godfather, she nearly asked them to give the distinction to Elain.

But she hadn’t, wouldn’t. Despite what others, especially Cassian, thought of her… Nesta loved her nephew.

She loved her family.

With a sigh, Nesta meandered over to Nyx’s high chair. “Alright.”

“Closer,” Feyre ordered, gesturing Nesta to move in closer beside Cassian behind the high chair.

Nesta’s lips pursed but she took another step toward the boys for her sister’s sake.

“I’m not poisonous, Nesta,” Cassian muttered, smiling at the camera as he spoke. “You won’t burst into flames if we brush arms.”

“You’d be so lucky to brush arms with me,” she muttered back, hoping the smile she was giving her sister was convincing - and knowing full well that it wasn’t.

Without another word, Cassian tossed his arm around Nesta and said, “Cheeeeese!”

Nyx was giggling, looking up at his godparents behind him. There was so much joy and adoration in those big, beautiful eyes that Nesta didn’t have the heart to storm off, leaving Cassian in her dust, no matter how much she wanted to.

The camera’s flash went off and Nesta pushed Cassian’s arm off her shoulder.

The rest of the party was perfect. Feyre took Nyx up to the bathroom to clean him off, while Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian hauled his many gifts out into the living room. Feyre opened them one by one, despite everyone knowing Nyx had no clue what was going on, though he did clap his chubby little hands and giggle at a few particular items. Nesta stood off to the side with Elain, holding a milk-drunk, sleepy Seph in her arms.

Azriel and Elain’s little girl had been a surprise, neither of them planning on Elain getting pregnant so soon after they got married. They both fell into the role of parents so seamlessly though, that Nesta knew another baby would be in their near future. They adored the baby girl, and she was the most perfect baby Nesta had ever seen.

Persephone hardly cried, only doing so when she was hungry or needed to be changed, and once whatever wrong was taken care of, she became a happy, smiley baby again.

Nyx, on the other hand, had been a hellion as a baby.

Which was to be expected, considering who his father was. Although responsible when necessary, Rhysand was just as much of a madman as Cassian...especially when infused with alcohol.

“You look good with a baby,” Elain crooned from beside her sister.

Nesta rolled her eyes. “You can keep trying to push me down the marriage-baby road, but I just won’t take it. Wasting your time.”

Elain sighed, dramatically, with that little grin remaining on her soft pink lips. “As long as you stay such a good auntie, I suppose I can’t complain.”

Nesta looked down at the sweet, sleeping infant in her arms. She didn’t mind those little snuggles.

She did mind the diaper blowouts, constant spit-ups, and loud crying, though. That’s usually when she gave Seph back to her parents and blissfully enjoyed her independent life.

Feyre gasped and Nesta looked up. She was holding a little guitar that had Nyx’s name and the night sky engraved into the dark-stained wood.

Nesta’s eyes snapped to Cassian.

Cassian smiled, fondly, at Feyre. “I know he won’t be able to start messing with it for another few years, but I couldn't help myself.”

“He made that himself, you know.” Nesta’s eyes shot to Elain, who was watching the scene before them. She whispered again, “He doesn’t do it for a living, of course, but it’s a hobby of his, making guitars. He’s really good.”

She blinked, the information catching her off guard for whatever reason. But all she said was, “That’s nice.”

She spent the rest of the afternoon, ignoring the man as much as she could, as she always did. But as the guests began to dwindle, as Nyx and Seph went down for their naps, the three sisters gathered in the living room, while Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian went out back to inspect the small jungle gym Rhys was building for Nyx. Again, he was too young to use most of it, but the tiny swing and slide would be hours of fun for the little man.

Feyre brought two cups of coffee out to her sisters before collapsing next to Elain on the couch. “That could not have gone better if we tried.”

Nesta leveled her a look and raised an eyebrow.. “If we tried? You had a minute-by-minute itinerary for a one-year-old’s birthday.”

“Everything was perfect,” Elain smiled, cutting off Nesta, blowing on her coffee gently. “Nyx had a good time, neither he nor Seph had a blow-up, Cassian and Nesta managed to be in the same room without stabbing each other. All in all, a good day.”

Nesta rolled her eyes before throwing a vulgar gesture towards her sisters, who were both laughing.

“Fine, new subject,” Feyre grinned. “Oh! Before I forget, Rhys and I are going out of town for our anniversary in a few weeks. I was hoping you could watch Nyx for a few days.”

It took Nesta a moment to realize that Feyre was talking to her. She froze, having been blowing on her own hot coffee. “I’m sorry, what?”

Feyre laughed, quietly. “I was hoping that you could watch Nyx while Rhys and I go away for a long weekend. We’re going to the mountains for our anniversary. To his family’s cabin.”

“Oh, that sounds nice,” Elain said, looking at Nesta.

Who blinked, having only unfrozen to set her coffee down on the table between them. “You want me…to watch Nyx…for the weekend? Alone? By myself? Just me and him?”

“That’s what I was hoping for, yeah,” Feyre said, nodding as she sipped from her cup. “You can come here, where all of his stuff is in one place, and make yourself at home.” She shrugged. “I’ll leave money for takeout and the key to the wine cabinet.”

Nesta hesitated. “I’ve only babysat Nyx a couple of times…all for, like, an hour each.”

“It will be fine,” she said, a genuine smile on her face. “It will only be three nights, really. We’ll leave after work on Thursday and be home Sunday evening.”

Nesta stammered and shook her head. “I have to work on Friday, the restaurant-.”

“I’ll keep him during the day on Friday,” Elain offered. “I don’t have any shoots that day, so he can spend the day with me and Seph.”

“You could keep him the whole weekend,” Nesta tried, looking at her younger sister hopefully.

“Seph is enough of a handful,” she chuckled, glancing at Feyre, who was nodding as well. “I don’t think I can handle two at once for an entire weekend.”

“Please, Nes,” Feyre said, drawing her eldest sister’s eyes to her. “I know you can do it and it would be nice for you to spend some time together, just you two.”

“And you can call me, if you need anything,” Elain added.

Nesta looked from Feyre to Elain. “You two already planned this.” They at least had the wherewithal to look guilty. She sighed, closing her eyes and shaking her head. “Fine. But I’ll probably end up calling both of you every thirty seconds.”

“I can work with that,” Feyre said, just as Elain said, “Then it’s settled!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Nesta snorted, shaking her head. “But, I hope you know that I wouldn’t do this for anybody else.”

“Oh, I know,” Feyre grinned, “which is what makes you such a wonderful, wonderful big sister.”

“I am pretty damn wonderful,” Nesta agreed, grinning as she sipped from her mug.

As she drank, she peeked out the window, where the boys were putting together the playset. Once she did, only one thing caught her eye.

Cassian was already watching her.

And when he caught her gaze, that stupid little, cocky-ass grin appeared.

She hated that grin, hated it with every ounce of her being.

And she wouldn’t feel bad for it, no matter how much her sisters adored the guy.

She hated him, hated Cassian Nazari.

And she always would.