#and I love how deep and complicated they are

[beomcoups]

fated strut- pt. i

̗̀➛ 𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: greek god!Jeonghan x model!reader

̗̀➛ 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: In a whirlwind fashion show, a part-time model's life takes a mystical turn when she becomes the muse for the captivating Greek God Jeonghan. Unbeknownst to her, she shares a deep connection tied to his past. As their chemistry ignites amidst secrets and rivalries, will love conquer their complicated fates?

̗̀➛ 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, angst, smut, fantasy, doppleganger au

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: nocturnal emission (sex dream), unprotected sex, kissing, fingering, backshots, riding, oral, biting, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names, sweet stuff, a lil bit of squirting, cream pie, oh and cursing 😂

̗̀➛ 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 7.2k

̗̀➛ 𝐀𝐍: This fic has had me stressed for the last couple of months lol. I have always been into greek mythology (I even hosted a multi collab before for it) and I got the idea earlier this year to do another one but just for seventeen. Thank you Maren @wooahaeproductions for hosting the 13 Gods Of Olympus collab with me and helping it come to life. Also thank you to @hannieween and @hobeemin for beta reading this and giving me some much needed feedback. I knew what I had was good and with your help it made it better :) also thank you to @cheolism and @junkissed for letting me run some ideas with them about the greek mythology and the BC era lol. I hope you like this 🖤

Golden light filters through your curtains, casting soft shadows that dance across the room. The scent of something sweet—honey and vanilla—lingers in the air, pulling at the edges of your consciousness. Everything feels so real and vivid, so alive. There is a haze in the light that looks nostalgic. 

You are sitting on a kline, handcrafted by Hephaestus himself, weaving away with a ball of twine in your hands. The clatter of sandals against the hard floor gets your attention. Looking up, Jeonghan is standing there, his blonde hair shimmering in the light, with a playful smile on his lips. 

“Shouldn’t be off delivering those messages to the mortals?” You tease him playfully. 

“They can wait,” he says, setting down his bag. “I have more pressing matters to attend to.” 

“Oh?” You slowly set down your twine. “What is that?” 

He walks over and kisses you deeply, sending ripples through your soul. You realize quickly that the “pressing matter” was that he wanted to be inside of you, and you were more than happy to oblige. 

“Jeonghan, you’re going to get in trouble with Zeus,” you taunt him. 

“I don’t care,” he grits, pulling you into another kiss.

You take off your gown, your nakedness exposed to him in all its glory. Jeonghan’s eyes you with adoration and lust, his hand palming the growing bulge under his toga. Sheer excitement runs through your veins, the thought of being roughly fucked on the kline making you wet with arousal. As if he read your mind, he tugs at your hair and bends you over, his fingers seductively playing with your sweet folds. 

“You’re already so wet for me, my love?” He licks your essence coated on his digits. “I have to break the rules more often.”

Your laugh is light as the air, anticipating and craving him deeply. You find yourself pressing your clit, spreading your legs apart, and rubbing it so he can get a better view. Jeonghan licks his lips at the sight before him, his hand stroking his cock as he lines up to your entrance. 

“Please,” your breathy moans floating in the room. “Give it to me.” 

“As you wish,” he murmurs as he inserts himself in your clenching heat. Your back arches as his thrusts go deep, the clapping sound of your skin against his hard and loud enough to create thunder from the heavens. Jeonghan looks down in amusement, watching your ass bounce every time he snaps his hips. He’s turned on and seduced, and you could have him turn into puddy with just one look. That’s how much he is into you. That’s how much he loves you. 

“You feel s-so g-good,” you barely sound out. “I-I love you.”

Jeonghan pulls you by your hair, his thrusts unrelenting as he kisses you hard. “I love you too.”

He raises his leg on the kline, pushing you back down, and strokes you from another angle. Your legs shake, your peak nearing as he continues to hit your pleasure points in all the right ways. “FUCK” is all you can scream out before you come undone, your essence squirting all over him and the floor. You are a whimpering mess, clutching the edge of the kline as he continues his onslaught until his release comes shortly after. He fills you up with his hot load, pumping his dick until he is spent, slowly slipping out of you. The loss is evident, and his cum starts to drip in between your folds. 

“Uh, uh,” he frowns as he crouches behind you. “We can’t leave that to waste, can we?”

He swipes what’s dripping down your leg with his fingers, returning them to your mouth to suck. You suck them with earnest, your eyes closing with sexual gratification. He turns you wild, and you want more. You attempt to initiate another round, but you are interrupted by the sound of thunder just outside your window, scaring you half to death.

“Sounds like the big guy is mad,” Jeonghan reluctantly pulls away. “I have to go.”

“Yeah, I know,” you nod, kneeling down to grab your gown. “You’ll be back, right?” 

He gazes at you with the softest eyes you have ever seen, letting him pull you close into another kiss. “Don’t I always come back?”

Your world shifts into a fading memory, the golden haze slowly replaced with stark brown walls and paintings. Jeonghan is gone. The thunder outside is as real as ever, followed by a bolt of lightning that feels too close to home. Reality slowly sets in, and you realize you are having a dream. This is the second one you have had this week with Jeonghan, the infamous Greek god. It feels natural, like you’re watching a memory of yourself, and you don’t understand it. 

You frantically grab your journal, jotting down every moment before the details get fuzzy and lost forever. This has to mean something, right?

A few weeks later...

You feel the galvanic buzz of anticipation humming as you stand backstage at Paris Fashion Week. Models twirl past you, dripping in the latest haute couture, their expressions exuding fierceness. You? You were just happy to be there. As the last-minute addition, the unexpected wildcard about to open the show—your heart races, matching the rhythm of the music that spills into the warehouse. The scent of expensive cologne and crepitus excitement lingers around you.

You weren’t even supposed to be here at all. You model in your part-time to pay the bills, but your real love, your true passion, is classical studies—specifically, your focus on Greek mythology. Growing up, you’ve always heard the stories of the Gods who ruled the world and how slowly but surely they started disappearing because people quit believing in them. Your mom, who raised you pagan, would tell you about missionaries coming over and preaching the Bible and using it in force, and people started losing their way and adapting to this new life. There are still gods amongst us who will never go away, no matter what. People are still human and have needs, after all.

That’s what brought you here tonight—Jeonghan, the god of many things, keeps appearing in your dreams; scenes of a past life take up much of your night, and you can’t ignore it anymore. You have to see and know him, and you aren’t above using unconventional methods to get what you want. You cozied up to the right people and got yourself cast onto his fashion show. Sometimes, all it takes is a look, a touch of your hand, or very selective words to get what you want. You aren’t sure you would call it a power… let’s just say you are persuasive.

“Thank the gods you are here tonight,” the stage manager, Lea, says as she adjusts your dress. “I can’t believe she didn’t show up.”

The model that was supposed to open up the show, Penelopeia, partied a little too hard the night before. How do you know this? You were right beside her, dancing and drinking the night away. You knew her in passing, working for the same modeling agency, and talked here and there, but you two aren’t friends. But you were out with acquaintances last night, and she was there. Ultimately, she is a grown woman and can make her own choices, but you might’ve given her some extra encouragement when she complained about her being tired and “needing” a break. You told her it was “fine” to blow off some steam, which wouldn’t mean anything. The touch of your hand when you held hers and listened to her cry about how tough her life is and whispered nothings in her ear. It was perfect. 

“Are you ready?”

You nod as the music changes, the lights dim, and you take your place behind the runway. Your heartbeat matched the drum's beat in your ears. 

“I'm like some kind of supernova... watch out!”

On cue, you walked, every gaze drawn to you as your body moved to the beat, each step a spell cast upon the audience. Unbeknownst to you, Jeonghan stood backstage, mesmerized by the essence you exuded, a natural allure that made him curious with its intensity.

You circle the runway and walk back to where you came from, your body on autopilot as your linen dress sashes across your body. You are rushed backstage, the dress slipping off of you hurriedly, briefly exposing your breasts while you are putting on another. You feel eyes burning into the back of your neck, and you instinctively turn around, meeting Jeonghan's soft brown eyes. His warm blonde locks hang below his ears, touching his delicate neck. He smirked, raising his glass of red wine, and you meekly looked away, clearly affected by a god's presence.

Jeonghan watches you intently as you take another lap around the runway. The familiarity of your presence slowly creeps in, and curiosity is taking care of the cat. He’s been around for a long time now, and he’s seen a lot of faces, old and new. But you remind him of an old lover from his past life, someone he prefers to keep buried in the back of his mind. You were clearly a doppelganger of her, and watching you in the flesh unnerves him to his core. There is no need to bring up thousands-year-old drama now. You’re in front of him now, beautiful as ever, and despite every red flag— he will have you wrapped around his fingers by the end of the night. 

You walk backstage and are dragged to the side by your dresser, who is adjusting your clothes one last time for your final walk. She fusses with your hair, a small annoyance you put up with because you know she is doing her job. You find yourself searching for Jeonghan through the slew of models, your eyes not resting until you see him talking to his stage assistant near the beginning of the runway. He is a god in every sense of the word. Butterflies flutter in the pit of your stomach when you see his soft, delicate features and how he carries himself. Very deific, very mindful. 

“He’s mesmerizing, isn’t he?”

You slowly come out of your self-induced trance, meeting the eyes of your dresser, Helen, a younger woman who couldn’t be older than 21. Her doe-eyed look makes her look innocent, and you feel the need to protect her from this cruel industry. 

“He’s okay,” you clear your throat. 

“Oh please, he’s a divine enigma,” Helen chuckled, a playful smirk gracing her lips. “It’s perfectly natural to admire someone’s allure, especially someone so utterly enchanting as HIM.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at her outburst, knowing that deep down, she was right. Jeonghan is the sexiest man you have ever laid eyes on. It doesn’t help that he is the god of fortune, luxury, and all the other things that make him much more attractive. 

“Okay, it’s time to do the final walk,” Helen announces as she finishes up. “You are going to walk out with him in front since you technically walked first in the show.”

You gaze at Jeonghan across the way, watching him wrap up his conversation with the stage assistant. “Is this custom? I thought usually the models walk out one final time, and then the designer comes out towards the end.” 

“Usually, yeah,” Helen shrugs. “But that’s not how Jeonghan does things.”

She lightly pushes you towards the front, catching his attention as the strobe lights change colors. You glowed in your dress, symbolizing a halo of beauty that made it hard for Jeonghan to turn away. This catches him off guard, a strange chill running through his veins that he is unfamiliar with. Keeping himself in line, he saunters over to you, his close proximity filling your stomach with butterflies. 

“Don’t be nervous, baby,” he whispers in your ear. “I don’t bite.”

The thought of his perfect mouth giving you love bites thrills you, and an intense longing starts to brew within your core. Feeling bold, you smile softly, responding in a tone only he could hear. 

“Well, that’s too bad.” 

Jeonghan chuckles lightly, impressed by your cheekiness. He slips his arm between yours, waiting for the curtains to open. The light touch of his arm brushing against yours gives you goosebumps, the exuberance bubbling inside you. You’ve studied him all your life, read the stories, and visited the ancient sites from many moons ago. You have never been near a Greek god, let alone touch one, and for a moment, you forget why you were really there. You were just a pretty model, attracted to the most successful man in the world, and the way he looks at you right now is setting your loins on fire. 

The curtains finally open, and you walk with him arm and arm like you were his equal. The other models did as they were supposed to do, walking behind you as you two set the runway ablaze. You stood in the center while he gave his bows; the audience applauded in crescendos. Jeonghan then returns to your side, his presence intoxicating and making you almost lose your senses. You walk in unison until you reach backstage, and Helen is waiting for you to help you out of your dress. Before you parted ways, he lightly touched your hand, grabbing your attention and Helen’s, with raised eyebrows.

“I’m interested in sharing another stage with you,” he whispers, his brown eyes gleaming with desire. “Without all the light and people watching us. Beyond the runway.” 

You cock an eyebrow playfully, putting on your best poker face, but inside, nervousness eats at you alive. You know you shouldn’t do this, as your sole reason was to find answers about him and why he encompasses your every dream. It took a lot of sweet talking and favors to get you in his lineup, let alone starting the show and inadvertently being his muse of the day. You knew you were going to have to mix your business with pleasure, and with the way he is gazing at you, the business is going further in the back of your mind. 

“Where do I sign up?” You say coyly, rubbing your finger against the fabric of his shirt. 

“Meet me in the back in fifteen minutes, and I’ll take you to my place.” 

You nod, and he leaves you with a soft kiss on your cheek. “Don’t be late.”

You watched him walk away, still feeling his warm lips on your cheek. You kept it cool, casually grabbing your things, but inside, you were buzzing, excitement bursting through your chest like fireworks. You weren’t sure what the night would bring, but you would never turn down the possibility of being in the company of a Greek god. 

You make your way to the back as directed, exchanging goodbyes with Helen and watching the models leave one by one. Fifteen minutes exactly, Jeonghan appears, twirling his car keys in his hands and opening the back door for you, leading you to a classic Mercedes Benz 250CE. He opens your door like the gentleman he is, making sure you are secure in your seat before coming over to the driver’s side. 

“Are you ready to go, doll?”

You nod, your sparkling eyes matching your smile. “Yeah, let’s go.”

The car ride was a short one, but it felt like it was going on forever. He played smooth jazz, driving with one hand and conveniently placing his hand on your thigh. Your mind was filled with thoughts of your dreams—the intimacy you felt and the sadness that tormented you when he disappeared. 

“You seem comfortable,” Jeonghan observed. “Most people would be scared to be with me.”

“Well, I have a feeling I am in good hands,” you answer honestly. 

You had so many questions about him as a Greek god, as it's not often (or really at all) that you can talk to one. Despite these waves of emotions tugging at your heart, you maintained a flawless facade until you arrived at his residence, a beautiful hotel that housed penthouses only the wealthy lived in.

“Welcome in.” 

The housekeeper greeted you as you walked into Jeonghan’s penthouse, located in the heart and soul of Paris. The interior was dripped in luxury, feeling more like an art gallery than a place to live. Everything has a place, and it makes you nervous about even moving around in the event you accidentally bump into something. The vinyl player played soulful jazz, a fancy concert piano was in the corner and hundreds of books lined up like his own personal library. Jeonghan guides you by your waist to the kitchen, a grand spectacle of the finest cooking ware, dishes, and appliances that were way above your budget. You sit on a stool while he pours you a glass of red, the finest from Chateauneuf du Pape.

“Nice place,” you sweet talk him. “I would say you must’ve worked hard to get all this, but I know better.”

“Do you?” He counters, handing you your glass. “Do you think you know everything?”

“I know what I know from books, archives, etcetera,” you explain casually. “It’s not like I can ring up Zeus and ask him to read me a bedtime story.” 

His lips curve as he chuckles, watching you sip the rich ruby-red liquid in your glass. “You have a sense of humor. I like that.”

You smirked, leaving him to his thoughts as you walked towards the large picture window, looking at the Eiffel Tower. It’s late, but the city has so much life in it. The tall, grandeur buildings that have stood through the ages are accompanied by French lights and taxis flying back and forth at night. Between your studies, walking runways, and doing commercial shoots, it was a matter of time before you made it out of the United States and into Paris. 

You aren’t this in-demand model agencies are banging the door down for. But when you come to work, you work. You know how to convince people to take a chance on you, whether it's your words of intellect or how you pose. Your mom always taught you to be observant and scope the scene before you act; that advice hasn’t stirred you wrong before. 

In the window's reflection, you watch Jeonghan gently place his glass on the table, the soft clink barely breaking the serene silence. He strides to your right, his presence warm and magnetic as he stands beside you, eyes mesmerized by the sprawling cityscape before you. 

“So why are you here? Aside from the obvious.”

Jeonghan’s question catches you off guard, stirring you out of your peaceful daydream.

“What do you mean?”

“Come on, baby,” Jeonghan cocks his head. “Don’t play coy.”

Your response hangs in the air as you search for the right words. How do you confess to a god that you've been dreaming of them without knowing why? You are sure they have heard it all before, and you wouldn’t be any different.

“Honestly speaking,” you start, taking another sip of your wine. “I’ve studied you all my life: the Greek Gods and the beings you used to be on Earth. Your stories fascinate me, and I want to put this master’s degree in classical studies to good use.”

“Uh huh,” Jeonghan hums. “Are you sure that’s it?” 

“I mean, I may have other reasons… but I can’t tell you all my secrets.”

You finish the remnants in your glass, sauntering and setting it next to his. You glance up, your heart beating fast as you meet his gaze. He watches you intently, a spark of amusement dancing in his beautiful brown eyes as he watches you internally squirm. At that moment, it feels as though the world has narrowed down to just the two of you, and you feel yourself being sucked into his spell. 

“Well, are you going to stare at me all night or show me around this place?”

You raise your hand, waiting for him to grab it and lead the way. He does just that, showing you around his massive penthouse. You don’t know if you could ever afford this place even if you had all the money in the world. Every room has its bathroom, and the balcony is beautifully decorated with a view to die for. You notice another room with more books than the collection you saw earlier, and you make a note later to ask about it… even hoping to take a peek at potentially ancient history. 

 Jeonghan slipped his hand on your waist as the tour went on, pulling you close like you were already his. His slender fingers held on to you kind of tight, like he was imprinting on you… You can’t say you don’t like that. 

You stop in front of his bedroom, the dark forest green double-doored room paired with gold handles waiting to be opened. You gaze at Jeonghan, who leans against the door, casually putting his hands in his pockets. 

“Is there a reason why we are just standing here?” You pose, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“No reason at all,” he responds, pulling you closer to him. “I just like looking at my bedroom door closed, that’s all.”

You raise an eyebrow, quite aware that he is teasing you. Being around him gives you a rush through your veins, a magnetic pull that sets your nerves and soul on fire. You know you should be doing a better job fighting this attraction between you two, but being around him makes you slowly lose all of your senses. He’s intoxicating; you feel hazy, like you are in a dream and don’t want to wake up. 

“So, are you going to sweet talk me in front of this door all night, or are you going to let me in?”

He chuckles softly as he opens his doors, leading to a grand master bedroom that all of the words in the dictionary couldn’t come close to describing. You knew he was the god of luxury, but what’s in front of your eyes exceeds that. This is opulence in its purest form. His massive king-size bed was decked with the finest white blankets and pillows filled with goose feathers that looked handcrafted with care. Your toes bask in the softest fur rug you have ever touched. It felt like you were walking on clouds. Jeonghan motions for you to sit on the bed, taking your hand as he helps you climb up. Your dress rises a bit, exposing your inner thigh to your surprise and his delight. 

“Don’t get any ideas,” you rib, crossing your legs slowly. 

“Don’t worry, baby. You’ll give me an invitation by the end of the night.”

You roll your eyes, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you adjust your dress. Watching him move with purpose to his shelf, he pulls out a vinyl and puts it in the player. Recognizing Billie Holiday's distinct and powerful voice, you lean back into the pillows and watch him approach the other side of the bed. With a snap of his fingers, the lights dim, opening the curtains and revealing another side of Paris, a quieter one that shows the city below. The ceiling separates slowly, revealing a twilight blue skyline with dark clouds surrounding you. It’s beautiful. 

You feel the bed shift on your left, and Jeonghan climbs quietly, his movements as light as a cat. He lifts the comforter, a gentle invitation for you to come under as his feet disappear under the thick cover. 

“Are you this friendly with all the women you bring over?” You smirk, raising an eyebrow.

“Nope,” his laugh is light as he rakes his fingers through his hair. “Just the ones I like.” 

You nod, following his lead and slowly basking into the warm cover. You can still see him in the low light, his radiance shining through the dark room. Maybe it’s because of your extensive research of him and your knowledge, but he feels familiar. Every fiber in your body tells you to pull closer to him and confess every little thought swirling in your head. Is this what it’s like to be in front of a god?

“So, a master's in Classical Studies, huh?” Jeonghan probes, his index finger making a swirling motion on his sheets. “Let me guess, you have a focus on Greek mythology?”

Despite putting on your best poker face, you felt like something bitter went down your throat. He caught you off guard, and to be frank, it’s your fault. The god of many things and the most intelligent being to walk on this Earth would of course know who you are. He probably had your whole life story while you walked on his runway. 

“Ah,” you exhale. “You must think I’m crazy.” 

“Nah, I don’t,” he assures. “I’m very intrigued by you.”

“Are you?” 

“Yes. You’re smart, carry yourself well, almost as witty as me, and very well-spoken. Why do you choose to model instead of working in something with your degree?”

You stare at him, his words chipping away at your exterior piece by piece. You could sit here and come up with a lie that sounds plausible and keep your secrets. But you want to know why he keeps plaguing your dreams, and maybe he has the answers you need to make sense of this. Some honesty can’t hurt, right?

“I… like the attention,” you confess. “I like the way people look at me when I walk by. I love being adored and wanted. I like that I am so educated and an effective communicator that I can talk myself into things I want to be in. That and my looks combined? I don’t get turned down often.”

Jeonghan gazes at you, wondering if he should be amazed at your self-awareness or frightened. Admittedly, your confidence turns him on, and you have the kind of intellect he likes on a deeper level. Your voice is calm and seductive without even trying, and not to mention, you have a timeless beauty that makes it hard to look away. When you walked down that runway, your stride was a beautiful masterpiece—it held him captive. It was as if you were trained by Aphrodite herself. 

“Plus, I am not totally abandoning my degree,” you continue on. “I want to eventually write about the Greek gods and the legends behind them. So many stories and their lore have been forgotten as people worship other gods, and I don’t want that to be forgotten. It feels like a passion project, but I know this will benefit the world somehow.”

“How?”

“Well,” you clear your throat. “It will provide a different perspective of ancient civilization.”

You run your hands through your hair, causing the v top of your dress to shift slightly, partially revealing your cleavage. You reach down to adjust it, and Jeonghan eyes your every move as you gradually slide your dress back up. It’s your favorite dress, which you picked up at a thrift store a long time ago in New York. It’s a jade green evening dress that hugs your body the right way, with a mid-thigh split on the right. 

“You’re quiet,” you observe, shifting your body closer to him. “What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing, just taking in what you said.” He pauses, his finger slowly sliding down to the slit of your dress. “I like the way you think.”

You nod, carefully choosing your next words. “I’m glad I made you feel that way.”

Your insides are on fire, begging for him to touch you in all the wrong right places. As if he could read your mind, he pulls you in for a kiss, his soft lips tearing down any walls you had. In a swift motion, he’s on top of you, hiking your dress up as he grinds his growing bulge against your sensitive core. A pleased hum escapes your lips, your body completely giving in to him.

“Mmm, you smell sweet,” Jeonghan utters, biting the bottom of your lip. “I’m sure you’ll taste just as good.”

His lips travel down your neck, sucking on your smooth skin until it's tender. Your hands desperately grab onto his silky blond hair as his tongue plays in circles along your collarbone, igniting a fire in you. You slowly lower the straps of your dress, tugging at the silky fabric until it lowers completely, revealing your breasts. Jeonghan marvels at the sight in front of him, his fingers brushing softly against your nipples. 

“Ah, you’re a goddess,” he whispers. “I’m going to have fun with you.”

He kisses you again, his hunger for you hot and strong as he unbuttons his shirt, revealing his smooth chest and defined abs. Fire and desire burn between you two, and you thirstily tug at his pants, pushing them down so you can see his cock, threatening to break free in his boxers. 

“You are an eager little thing, aren’t you?” 

“I just know what I like, that’s all.” 

Leaving you with one last kiss, he moves on your breasts, cupping them softly and sucking on your nipples with such tenderness as if they were prized possessions. Your perfume mix smells pleasant to him, like an aphrodisiac, and he cannot get enough. Jeonghan usually likes to play with his food a bit before he eats it, but you bring something out of him that he hasn’t felt in a long time: impulsiveness and passion. He wants you more than he cares to admit, making him act out of his cool, calm, and collected nature. He sucks on your nipples harder, earning a hard moan from you, the blend of pleasure and pain igniting waves of excitement that leaves you breathless. 

His hand slips in between your legs, pushing them apart and sliding your panties to the side. His thumb rubs your clit softly, sending jolts of pleasure throughout your body. Jeonghan has you feeling like you are floating on air, unable to tell him what you want coherently. 

“Mmm… fuck I can’t take this,” you mutter. 

“Well, you will learn tonight, baby,” Jeonghan smirks as he lowers himself to your sweet entrance. “Tell me what you want.” 

“F-fuck,” you cooed. “You know what I want.”

“Just because I am a god doesn’t mean I can read your mind,” he teases, biting softly on your thigh. “Tell me what you want.”

You feel hot and rabid, trying to chase a high you are so close to getting. Jeonghan removes his thumb from your nub, snickering as he watches you groan in protest. He is determined to make you beg for it, and watching you squirm and fall apart underneath him would be the highlight of his night. He inserts a digit inside your wet core; a sweet smile spreads across your face soon after. 

“J-Jeonghan,” you sputter. “P-please just—”

“Say it, baby.” 

“Fuck, just make me cum, please.” 

Jeonghan slips a second finger into you, leaving small kisses on your thigh as he thrusts into your wet cunt. Your hands grip the sheets as he goes deeper, watching excitedly as your essence coats his fingers and his sheets. He planned to study you, explore what made you tick, and how your body liked to be teased. He wants to hear your perfect voice scream his name as your body shakes from being royally fucked by a god, and the way you are laid out in front of him, he is losing all composure. 

“Such a good girl,” he murmurs. “I think you deserve to cum now.” 

Quickly removing his fingers, he dives into your wet folds with his tongue and up to your sensitive clit. His fingers intertwine with yours, eating you with such a craze, the hunger of a starved being who is eating his favorite meal for the last time. The vibrating hums of his mouth to your delicate flower sends you over the edge, your orgasm crashing down on you hard. He holds onto your thighs, holding you hostage as he takes everything you got. You proved him right—you tasted just as sweet as your perfume. He’s addicted to your aroma, a natural aphrodisiac that he will never get enough of. 

“There you are, princess, ” he whispers. “Keep giving it to me.”

Your moans turn into whines and then screams, your fingers desperately clinging to the sheets as he drinks you in. Jeonghan’s appetite is insatiable, and the god’s thirst for you is getting stronger by the minute. His nails dig into your thighs as he licks up and down your folds, desperate to taste more of your sweet essence. You feel airy, your body floating on cloud nine as if you have never had this kind of pleasure before. Sure, you have had your experiences and what you thought was the best sex of your life, but those don’t even come close to this.

“Come on baby, give me another,” he goads you. “I know you have it in you.” 

“J-Jeonghan,” you croak, desperation falling on your lips. “P-please. You win.”

“Win?” He chuckles softly. “ I haven’t even started.” 

His fingers return to your entrance, thrusting into you while his tongue remains on your clit. His lips make lewd noises, slurping and smacking away as he bullies you into your second orgasm of the night. Your toes curl, the springs in your abdomen snapping as it ripples through you like a hard wave. Jeonghan moans into your sweet core as you surrender to him; his pupils dilate as he takes the remaining energy that you have left. His free hand furiously pulls down his boxers, liberating his cock, and he touches himself at last.  He jerks himself to the thought of your mouth wrapped around his dick, tasting his cum as he shoots loads down your throat. He could easily stop and make his imagination a reality, but you just taste too damn good. 

“Damn,” you curse, brushing his hair from his face. “You are so good at this.” 

“Mmhmm,” is all he could say, his cruel tongue still playing circles around your clit. You lift yourself away from him, watching him pout as you take his meal. You can barely move, your legs still spasming from that earth-shattering orgasm. Your eyes travel lower to his freed cock, watching him pump himself with such eagerness, the precum oozing from his tip begging to be sucked. He was thick and girthy, his veins popping in places you liked. Your mouth salivates at the thought of tasting him in your mouth. 

“Can I?”

You sit up, gently motioning for him to lay back on the pillow. Curiosity gets the better of him, and he does what he is told, relaxing his hands behind his head. Jeonghan isn’t used to his playmates wanting to take control in the bedroom; most of them just want to have a story to tell about being fucked by a god. You excite him, a confident woman who knows what they want and isn’t apologetic about it. The twinkle in your eye you have for him turns him on, and he is counting the seconds where he can finally be inside of you. 

Your hand slides up his shaft, watching him shudder from your touch. You lean down, sucking on his tip and tasting his precum. You make eye contact as you take more of him, hallowing your cheeks and letting saliva drip out of the corners of your mouth. He tastes better than you imagined, and you feel gratification watching his lips part and low moans escape his pretty little mouth. You feel dirty, like his own personal whore, and you aren’t mad at that. Your very sensitive core still wants him, your clit pulsating at the thought of his very thick cock beating your walls down. 

“You look so beautiful with your lips wrapped around me, princess,” he grunts, taking a handful of your hair. “Let’s see if you can handle me.” 

Jeonghan fucks your mouth roughly with such a force and rhythm that was only his, tears streaking your face as you take him whole. His dick hits the back of your throat, and you are thankful that you have a mean gag reflex. It’s smooth, clean, and fits your mouth just right. It’s like it was molded and shaped just for you. Your hand sneaks in between your legs, playing with your nub and willing yourself to cum for the third time. 

“Tsk, tsk, you dirty girl,” Jeonghan murmurs between grunts. “You do want me that bad? Do you want my cock inside your wet cunt?”

You nod fervently, your fingers increasing their pace. He pulls himself out of your mouth suddenly, lifting your head and kissing you with such an intense fire, his hands grasping your ass and giving it a tight smack. 

“I want to ride you, baby,” you breathe between kisses. “I want to feel you inside of me. Give me that, please.” 

He wants you as bad as you want him, his adrenaline pumping through his veins as he positions himself on the bed. His hands grab your hips, hovering over him as he aligns his cock to meet your entrance. The thought came to your mind about using a condom, but it went away quickly when you sunk onto him. He feels good; your walls tighten around him as you adjust to his size, rocking slowly back and forth to get a rhythm. 

“That’s it,” Jeonghan groans as he cups your breasts. “Take me however you want me.”

You increase your pace while he bucks into you, biting your lip until it's crimson red. His nails dig into your hips, the pain mixed with the pleasure sending you soaring through cloud nine. You lose all inhibition, riding him harder and deeper, addicted to chasing that orgasmic high that you feel coming sooner than you’d expected. Your body is on autopilot, refusing to stop until you’ve cummed on him at least once. If you didn’t know any better, you would say you were falling in love with him. The sex you had with him in your dreams doesn’t even come close to the real thing. His cock consistently hits all the right places, and he pays great attention to your body, teasing you and pushing you to your limits until you are sent over the edge. 

Jeonghan grabs you by your neck and kisses you deeply, thrusting deeper into you until you can no longer keep your composure. He loves watching you lose control, surrendering your body to him and screaming his name loud enough for the neighbors to hear. His lips are slightly parted, whispering sweet things in your ear, praising you for taking him so well and rewarding you with filling you up with his cum. You look every bit fucked out and heavenly to him, and he wishes he could stay buried inside of you forever. What he feels for you is risky, and if it were someone else, he would turn those feelings off. But with you and the way you are taking him so well, he is completely into you. 

He helps you ride out your high, kissing you from your lips to your collarbone until you are overripe with sensitivity. Slowly lifting you, he lays you gently on his right, allowing you to catch your breath. 

“I-I don’t think I have ever been fucked like that before,” you confess in between breaths. “Are you sure you’re not the god of love?”

Jeonghan chuckles, putting on a robe and heading towards the bathroom. Looking at himself in the mirror, he notices a few scratches you left, noticeable dig marks from your nails that dug into his skin. He shrugs them off, knowing that the next day, they will disappear, and it will be like they were never there. He’s been on this Earth for a long time and has slept his way through all the women and men he desired, but this night with you has topped all of them. He feels a connection with you mentally and spiritually, and after feeling you for the first time, he is determined to keep you by his side. By all means. 

Your eyes are heavy with exhaustion, the day’s events catching up to you as your body acclimates with the sheets. You hear soft water running from the bathroom, and a few seconds later, Jeonghan appears in front of the door, his robe removed and naked. You glance at him and smirk, slowly getting out of bed and walking towards him. He is a divine enigma indeed. 

“Don’t worry, darling,” he assures you. “It’ll be a nice, relaxing bath.” 

His bathroom was definitely tailored to his taste. It had white and forest green marble floors, a shower stall big enough for more than three people centered in the middle, and two vanity sinks placed on opposite ends of each other. The tub was round and spacious, placed by the circular window that allowed you to see the stars at night. You slowly step into the foaming water, the sweet aroma of vanilla and bergamots filling your senses and pleasing your soul. Jeonghan comes in behind you, the water slightly splooshing around as his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you close. You relax on his chest, feeling at peace as you stare outside the window. It feels so natural, feeling this comfortable around him. 

Your dreams of him show that you two had a successful relationship. You were partners in everything. He was good at communicating, and you knew how to support him and could persuade anyone if needed. You understood your roles, and you were perfect. So why do they always end with you walking away?

“What are you doing tomorrow?” Jeonghan’s voice breaks through your reverie. 

He unwraps his arms around you, places his hands on your shoulders, and gives you a comforting massage. You close your eyes, letting the steam from the warm water relax your muscles. 

“Heading back home,” you sigh heavily. “I have some go-sees to book and also continue my research. I have to put these looks and my big brain to use.”

“Yeah, no, you’re not,” Jeonghan declares smoothly. “I want you to stay here and work for me. Become my new muse.”

He watches you react closely, his eyes shining with mischief. “Just think about it. You would be my inspiration, my spark. Imagine the kind of magic we would create together.”

He catches you off guard but excites you nevertheless. Jeonghan wants to make you the face of his brand. You would be crazy to turn that down. Plus, it makes you so much closer to your research and figuring out your dreams. This was the universe giving you a sign.

“Yeah,” you say after thinking it over. “I would be open to that.”

You sink further into his chest, your tiredness getting the best of you, and falling into a slumber in the warm water. Jeonghan leaves light kisses on your shoulder, watching you sleep peacefully in his arms. He could go for another glass of wine, a perfect way to top off his night with you. He knows getting entangled with his ex-lover’s doppelganger is risky business, and eventually, he will have to deal with the truth of things. But tonight is not the night to open Pandora’s box and bring up the ancient feelings and heartache that he’s put behind. Instead, he will lay here with you, enjoying the sereneness while it lasts. 

Thank you for reading ^_^ if you would like to join my taglist, sign up here.

[polksaladava]

✼　 ҉ 　✼ the psychology of Elvis, pt. 1 ✼　 ҉ 　✼

i’ve been thinking a lot about the psychology of Elvis since watching the new documentary and i desperately need to scream my little brain worms into the void. i'm not really adding anything to the conversation that @joons didn't already say (much more concisely and eloquently than i'm about to lol) but alas, a yapper never ceases.

obviously i’m not a doctor or an expert by any means, so there’s a good chance i’m just talking out of my ass. always interested to hear other people’s thoughts and opinions but if you’re thinking about engaging with this post in bad faith, don’t!

of course Elvis lived a very complicated and unusual life, and we can never truly know why a person does what they do, but there's a series of major events that i can think of that very obviously impacted him and probably lead to a lot of the patterns of behavior we saw in his adult years.

for a start, he grew up very poor. we know poverty leaves deep and lasting trauma - experiencing resource scarcity, especially during your formative years, has a huge impact on developmental psychology. not only that, but his dad was in prison for 8 months when Elvis was only 3-4 years old. that's old enough to remember the emotions associated, but not old enough that he could have really understood what was happening at the time. AND by all accounts, it seemed he also had a hard time fitting in at school, which i'm sure wasn't helped when the family moved two hours away from his home town.

overall, his childhood was really characterized by scarcity - lack of money, lack of resources, lack of stability, lack of friends. but then he makes it through high school and he hits it big! seemingly overnight and out of no where. and now, there's money coming in! he can afford to buy his family a nice home! he's adored by crowds and he's found friends! and all of this is incredible and he attributes it all to none other than colonel tom parker.

and so now we have this deep-seeded fear of scarcity and this belief that all of the abundance he's finally experiencing should be attributed to the colonel. and the only way to make sure that the colonel stays is to keep him happy.

and then the two worst things that could have possibly happened happen at the same time - he gets sent to Germany, in turn being forced to abandon his career and his life as he knows it, and his mother and very best friend dies tragically.

and suddenly he realizes that the money and the fame and the resources aren't enough to keep bad things from happening, and the worst thing that can happen is losing the people you love - and maybe more importantly, losing the people who love you.

so now we have a man who was, by all accounts, already gentle and kind and loving by nature, whose brain has been conditioned to prioritize having people in his corner above all else. which, to a degree, is just human nature! we intrinsically know that we need a tribe to thrive in the wild. but when you experience the trauma that he went through at such formative times in his life, that becomes your singular goal. to survive, you cannot be alone.

and how do you avoid being alone? you give people a reason to want to be around you. and that reason could be a lot of different things - love, money, sex, entertainment. and he was pretty damn good at providing all of the above. so of course he builds a loyal group to surround him at all times. not only is he kind and fun and beautiful, but he's essentially bankrolling their whole lives. he buys them houses and cars and puts them on his payroll.

and now we have a huge problem, because we're well into the 1960's and Elvis has been raking in cash hand over foot, but he's miserable. he doesn't have a live audience to feed him anymore. the work is meaningless and embarrassing, and his health is on the rocks. but the colonel is constantly reminding him that he's only one step away from desolation, and now Elvis is really scared, because he's essentially the sole provider for a family of 15 at this point and he has to keep the cash flowing. so he stays miserable and does the bad movies and continues to do exactly what the colonel says. and god forbid any of the leeches around him (not you jerry or charlie!!) say anything, because they're not about to lose their paycheck!

but thankfully we make it through the majority of the 60's, and everything changes with the help of steve binder and the '68 special. and that's where i'm going to hop off my soap box for today, but trust me i have MUCH more to say about the 70's and the eventual decline of an empire and how this ties in to the lore of Elvis Presley™ as we know it today.

if any of you actually made it this far, i apologize for the 10 minutes you will never get back. may god bless you angels. maybe go outside or something now tho. okay love you xoxo

[acerathia]

elaboration on this post cw: implied exhibitionism

it's weird, you're aware of that. to be crushing on a stranger with a mask, just because he's actually doing something good. (and because he looks so good in their outfit, muscles ripping and stretching underneath that fabric, almost like he's putting on a show...)

yet, you can't help yourself. your body shivers, fingers twitching, heart racing with every passing glance, every mere thought of this masked phenomenon. and with every single reaction, the guilt buries itself heavier into your lungs.

you have a partner, one you like so so much, one you want to spend the rest of your life with. but how can you face him with these treacherous thoughts about another person, even worse, a stranger you barely have exchanged proper words with.

your desires and the bad aftertaste swirl together into a cocktail of mixed feelings. especially as you find yourself in his arms after a rescue from an attempted thievery.

his face hidden by the usual mask and his arms are securely wrapped around you, as he's transporting you carefully to another spot. and your lungs and heart are drumming, reminding you of the tickles you feel as you think of him, only to stop a beat, giving you a taste of the heartache to be followed in the future if you don't control yourself.

arriving safely in another alley, he begins to unravel his strong grip, taking all the warmth away from you. and everything you have been bottling up suddenly pushes forward, exploding in something you can't explain. maybe you wanted some form of closure, maybe you wanted to confess your complicated feelings to him, maybe you wanted to blame him for everything.

but nothing comes out, as the moment the mask leaves his face, you're faced with your partner, all wide eyes and confusion, worry. the same person you have gone home to every day is the same person protecting the streets. the only two people being able to stir your heart is the very same person. this realization turns your muscles weak, relief flooding through your veins, and you slump against him.

"I love you", you mutter, and it doesn't take for him to do the math, to put every piece together.

yet, instead of disappointment, there's something else you're confronted with, as he presses you against the wall with his body, letting his hands roam over you as he puts the mask back on.

"This is what you like, huh?" he asks, voice low and rough, sending shivers down your spine, tingling deep in your belly.

you swallow, feeling yourself getting overwhelmed, especially as you feel his bulge grow where your bodies meet. his hand touches you then where you're most sensitive, pressing against you through the fabric. you gasp and clutch at him, feeling some sense of desperation, of need.

A chuckle. "I know we're going to have fun with this..." His fingers tug at your waistband, and you let him, giving yourself to him, in all of his forms.

[raayllum]

Was considering making this a ficlet (and I still might) but a tiny meta for day 3 of Snake Boi Callum week: Your Deepest Truth / Complicated.

But I really steadily appreciate how arc 2 builds up Callum's deepest truth, not only in regards to the Knowing motif or the full set up (explored in further detail here), but also in other indications throughout the season. Season 4 starts small, with Ezran's faith ultimately being what Callum 'sees' clearly in 6x06:

Then season 5 takes this same idea — of enduring love, of deep love, of love being knowing and presence in contrast to absence, uncertainty, and lack of / repressed love — and builds on it.

[To love is simply to] know this: the tides are true as the ocean is deep. It means I trust her. Unconditionally. (5x01)

Rayla. We've been through a lot, and a lot has changed. Well, some things have changed, but not everything. I would do anything for you. (5x04)

The Ocean arcanum is accepting there are depths you can't see, parts of yourself you can't understand, and things you can't control. (5x08)

So 5x01 and 5x08 take that idea of love having untold depths, and link it to the ocean arcanum (and Callum's understanding of the arcanum). Said arcanum is also scaffolded on Callum's experiences on Finnegrin's ship, specifically his choice to do dark magic again, which is also lampshaded by Finnegrin's dialogue throughout the episode referencing Callum's vow(s) to Rayla in 5x04 ("You'll do anything for them" / "I hope you know—" "I know" / "To love is simply to know this").

Then we get to season six, which uses other characters and dynamics to build up to Callum (and Rayla's) connection in 6x06.

Viren's "The path of freedom is the path of truth" in 6x01 sets in motion the — at the time — subtextual notion of Rayla being in opposition to Aaravos and the embodiment of Callum's freedom. Janai says to Amaya in 6x02 that "You are my heart and my truth. If I ever start to doubt you, I'll know that I am truly lost." When Terry encourages Claudia to make her own choices in 6x04, he cites, "Only you can see your own deep truth. Only you can decide the path you’re going to walk. [...] You have to choose the way. What do you need to find your truth?"

So in quick succession, we have truth associated with 1) something deep and inherent, 2) the subsequent path of / to freedom, 3) someone being your heart / that it can be someone in your life. All of these concepts are reaffirmed in Rayla's lullaby in 6x05 with the added bonus of identity:

RAYLA: "Though the sky is dark tonight, I still shine for you my dear. The moon is more than just her light, I am near; my love is here. Though you feel so much alone, oh, my darling, do not fear. Hold to what you've always known, I am near; my love is here. Though my face cannot be seen, the answer in your heart is clear. I am the moon, the silver queen. I am near; my love is here." I know who you are. Esmeray.

Callum goes into the darkness in 6x06, and it's all he can see. He's literally blindfolded and can't see Rayla's face. Yet he sees her — Rayla's love for him, and his love for her — as his Light. As his heart and path and truth. His deepest truth. What seemed so complicated in her absence and confusing upon her return is eclipsed by the sanctity and assuredness of what he knows down to his bones, and thereby knows himself through in his own sense of identity as well.

I would tell you that you all my choices were nothing and you were everything. (6x03) KOSMO: The truth is complicated. VIREN: Life is complicated. But if it's love, nothing else matters. (6x06)

(This is also reflected in Claudia's assertions in 6x08 that Viren "needs to show [her] the right path. You taught me who I am and how to love myself" though we'll see if those hold.)

This also, as noted in the above metas, link to Aaravos' stances on truth. He never lies because he never needs to. Sol Regem accidentally killing his mate is a "deep, dark truth." The tagline for his S7 poster forewarns, "Lies hide in the shadows, but the darkest truths hide in the light."

While Rayla being Callum's deepest truth isn't complicated, the direction his love for her may steer his choices could be truly, temporarily awful, and I for one can't wait.

[fulcrum-art-fox]

I love the way they do the layers with Jinx that we see in episode 4 that she’s pretty baffled by the hero worship, saying to Silco, “Me, a hero? How screwed up is this place”. Moreover, she’s actually actively avoiding anything to do with the mantle, even stating that “Jinx is dead”, to the point that Isha is taking it up in her stead. The scene when she springs the Zaunites from Stillwater looking for Isha is really beautiful for this, from the way she plays up to it, declaring herself as the big fat hero with all the flair, but then grinning nervously, and being genuinely stunned and moved as they all reach out to touch her reverently. The way they take the time to establish how complex and strange this feeling is to her makes it especially notable and wonderfully delicious when she leans fully into it for Vi. “Wake up sis. I’m a hero.” Here she’s actually flaunting it for Vi, in a way that belies and conceals just how complicated it actually makes her feel, because she knows that at this stage Vi doubts that Jinx is capable of much of anything positive, and deep down, she still desires Vi’s approval. She’s overcompensating, bigging up her legend, using how she knows others view her as both a shield and a spearhead. There’s just something about her wanting Vi to acknowledge her for this thing that privately she’s not even certain how she feels about herself

[animezinglife]

@goforth-ladymidnight, I recently read one that was excessively Fae in nature called The Thorns Remain.

It's a slower-paced story and won't be for everyone, but if you want the true tricksters, weird magic, mind games, and riddled speech, that might be a good option. J.J.A. Harwood is the author. The Fae isn't necessarily a love interest, but the situation is...sadistically intriguing.

I've never understood why SJM doesn't lean more into iron. It would even the playing field and raise stakes quite a bit more in general, and it would add intensity and depth to the fact Elain wears an iron engagement ring.

I obviously don't want anything to happen to Rhys and consider his and Feyre's story to be wrapped up with a nice little bow on top, but how interesting could that have been to have the "most powerful High Lord in history" at risk of being taken out by something that's so prevalent in his mate's/wife's world?

What about ballistas and "modern" war equipment from the human world being heavily armed and guarded with iron?

Maybe that could be a wicked advantage of Autumn: their fire burns so hot (so fast) that it poses a massive risk to the integrity of these arms. Or Winter, perhaps, could throw enough ice around the iron to either cease its function altogether or defend against iron's effects.

The biggest problem in my opinion with the series is we have no worldbuilding or grounding whatsoever. We've been in Night for how many years and still have no sense of what technologies they have or don't have (Toilets? Electricity? I'm so confused), modern clubbing mixed in with this all somehow, and fashion could either be something very Fae or a sweater and leggings from 2006.

Anything goes in fantasy, but only if you keep it consistent and ground it.

My biggest issue above all else with the Fae?

With the exception of Lucien, Eris, and perhaps Helion, none of them seem smarter than humans. I don't know if their brains just develop much more slowly or what (which, again, would be a contradiction given how young Lucien is for their world), but it's a little concerning.

My continuous complaint about ACOTAR and SJM in general is that she never rolls up her sleeves and digs deep. She doesn't get her hands dirty, and everything stays at a surface level.

Instead of ancient bad blood, political intrigue, and trickery among rivaling courts, I feel like I'm reading a Real Housewives recap.

Instead of having any sense of the very real (I'm assuming) turmoil within the Night Court between Illyrian dissenters, the Court of Nightmares, and Velaris, we get, "Yeah, growth takes time and we'll throw Azriel/Cassian/etc. at it and see if that works." Velaris is great for the people living in it.

Is life great for the lesser Fae living in the CoN? Illyrian women? Young males pushed a little too far? It IS realistic that Rhys wouldn't be able to solve every issue---it's one of his wiser moments to recognize that and not push too hard---yet I also wish there was more on this.

That, and the fact that we're supposed to assume these centuries-old Fae are A-okay with a human woman born yesterday now being their High Lady.

If we brought in more worldbuilding with the tensions between humans and Fae, the threat of iron, faebane, etc., then that could add some interesting, complicated layers.

You truly cannot compare the two, but if you value depth and were to read both The War of Lost Hearts and ACOTAR...there is absolutely no comparison.

You're emotionally exhausted and fulfilled throughout the former for good reason, and you have a nearly perfect sense of what their world looks like, the powers at play, and even worse, you're attached to most of them. There are no saints in that series, and even the more clear-cut heroes face significant, meaningful, grounded backlash.

That series also has Fae, though they're not your traditional sorts either. They're more warlike and hardened.

Sorry this is a long post, I had to rant a bit.

The thing that bothers me the most about the ACOTAR series is the fae. I love fae, I love stories with fae in them, there are so many interesting things you can do with them. So many ways you can make them unique and yet still retain the basis of what fae are. And yet Sarah J Maas just... doesn't.

SJM really just took everything interesting about the fae and threw it in the bin. The fae to me have always been fantastical, "other", they just don't feel human, they feel different, they feel strange. But ACOTAR's fae are just so bland and boring. They don't feel different to the humans. In fact they feel like humans but with magic and pointy ears. It genuinely pains me how SJM threw everything interesting about the fae away.

I personally love the concept of the fae not being able to lie. There is so much fun and interest in that concept. It is something that is challenging to navigate. Every fae character cannot directly tell a lie therefore you have to get creative with what they say, you have to twist words around so that they can lie without actually lying.

That idea is initially presented to us but Feyre learns pretty early on that that isn't true. That the fae in ACOTAR can lie. Even if SJM wanted to take away the concept that fae can't lie, she didn't even play around with Feyre's misconception about them. Feyre could've gone through part of the first book believing everything that the fae said to her to be true. To me, that sounds like an interesting concept and i would've loved to read about it. I can't remember exactly how quickly Feyre is told the fae can lie but it's not even slightly an issue.

Another thing about the fae is that they're mischievous. They love playing tricks, whether it's something mild or completely cruel. But ACOTAR's characters lack that mischievousness, the cunning. They aren't tricksters like fae usually are. Correct me if I'm wrong but I can't seem to remember a time when someone attempted to trick Feyre. Amarantha made a deal with Feyre, but it was straightforward, there was no trick to it. Rhysand didn't trick her into the bargain either. It would've been interesting to see the fae attempting to trick Feyre, to get her to enter into a bargain that seems good but they worded it in a way that it is actually bad.

Instead the ACOTAR characters, specifically the males, are all presented as your typical "alpha male". Rhysand is presented to us as cunning but to me he doesn't feel like that of a cunning fae but a cunning human. Tamlin can literally shapeshift and yet SJM doesn't do anything of interest with that. Luicen was slightly mischievous in Book 1 but even then it is how you expect any normal character to be, he does not play tricks like that of the fae. I might be nitpicking with these but i truly wish we had gotten more trickster like characters.

As much as everyone likes to hate on Book 1, there were interesting fae in that book. The Bogge, the Naga, the Puca (I suppose this one did trick Feyre), the Suriel. Alis was interesting, she was described as having bark like skin. I want more diversity in the characters looks. Our main cast and most of the major side characters all look normal, human but with pointy ears or wings.

Their appearance isn't necessarily the issue. It's the fact that the fae are meant to be seen as difderent to the humans and yet they barely are.

So many interesting things about the Fae, from their behaviour to their culture and magic and rituals, all the funky little things humans do to ward off or stop the fae, down the drain. And if I'm being completely honest, I believe SJM isn't a competent enough writer to pull off the complexities that make the fae, fae. It feels almost disrespectful to call these characters fae.

(I am no expert in fae mythology. But from all that I've seen and read, these characters just aren't it.)

[marzcody]

All of my alterhuman kinstypes cus I'm bored :P

I will be talking. a lot. this is your warning that I will be talking.

Black wolf!!

This is by far the easiest one I have to understand (for me atleast) so it's going first. Often get more shifts about it during the winter because all the snow and stuff reminds me of the tundra!! I had a pack of like 3-4 other wolves and we lived along the border between a forest and like a planes in the tundra or something like a tundra.

Me fr!!

Black cat (fictionkin?????)

this is where things get complicated as always...I put fictionkin w/ a bunch of question marks because I'm a black cat specifically from the book series Warrior cats but I'm not like a specific character from the book, I'm my own cat but like not an oc so????? idk I'm just going w/ fictionkin for now cus it makes the most sense to me lol. anyway I spent most of my time in Riverclan but I spent a lot of time in the hay/wheat fields at the barn had hunting mice. My name was Mountainsong (clan name) or Night-bird (rogue name). I was like 20 moons? I was definitely a young warrior but idk exactly how old. I have a lot of memories attached to this kintypes like having to run across the Thunderpath or sneaking out of camp to go hunt mice at the barn. I still sometimes try to flick my tail as communication forgetting I don't have one anymore :/. Anyway if you have any idea if fictionkin is the right term or if there's some other one lmk (note: I also might have a theriotype of a cat that's different than this?? idek anymore just know that I'm a cat lol)

me in RC territory if you even care

Angelkin? Dietykin? Something along those lines

and even more complicated we go. idk a good label for this one either but I feel like those two are pretty good descriptors. I'm not divine anymore but I once was. I'm not a christian angel or even an angel from any particular religion. All I know is that I came from the stars with the purpose to bring light and joy to humanity and to also observe it (I've made many observations!!) This sounds kinda silly but my form was best described as the Angelic Warden from Creatures of Sonaria but not exactly. I stood on two legs that came down to a fine point, and had two massive wings on my back that were very heavy with two more little wings inside of those ones, a long with two on either side of my head. (man I miss those wings). I think I may have been on Earth while still divine? I know for a fact I was watching from above the clouds once but idk not gonna get into that yet lol.

Where I came from. also the best representation of my "non-physical" form.

THE MOON (conceptkin)

Kinda goes with the whole originating from the stars and space but uhm. anyway I AM the concept the like the aura around the moon. The deep night only illuminated by the full moon. that illumination creating a mysterious and beautiful light casting down the the ground through the leaves of trees? ME!!!! The haunting light a bright orange harvest moon immits?? ME!!!!! The weird pseudo-darkness the moon makes during a solar eclipse? MEEE!!! The moon shining brightly through the clouds giving light to the animal below and beauty for human to admire? MEM MEMEMEM!!!!!

MEEEEE!!!! ME ME ME!!!!

ANYWAY thanks for reading!!!! if you have any kintypes you wanna share PLEASE do I LOVE hearing about them /gen!!!!

[jaxihammer]

It's been a week and a half since Arcane S2 Act 1 came out and in that time I have not ONCE stopped thinking about how Caitlyn Kiramman and Suvi Kedberiket from Worlds Beyond Number are the same goddamn character

Blue hair

Mom/mother figure is a high ranking government/military official with a soft-spoken husband

Born into a position of privilege in a city that's pushing the bounds of magical technological progress

This city sits physically above a separate city that houses more "lower-class" citizens

Childhood friend crafts magical weaponry

Impulsive red-coded "friend" who comes from wildly different circumstances, though they did briefly cross paths as children

City they call home suffers an explosive disaster caused by the childish and reckless counterpart of the red-coded "friend"

Trying to reach out to those oppressed by their city and forge connections, but this goal clashes with the structure and ideology much of the system depends on, and their naivety relative to those outside their city leaves them unable to grasp the full picture

Take on high-ranking positions in or near the military through a combination of powerful parents and pure intelligence and work ethic

Justify the actions of those in power because of a deep connection to their home and the people there, setting aside the perpetrators of violence and oppression as "the bad ones" instead of fully considering the ways in which the system allows these actions to continue

Throw around their name and title to get what they want sometimes

Complicated relationship with privilege and station

Motivated in part by the death of a parent/parents

On and off relationship with red-coded "friend" because while their values align, their methods are vastly different and contradict often

Incredibly nuanced and well-written characters that fans like to nitpick and call mean fascists instead of embracing the complex web of events and influences that lead to their actions

Pretty girls I would like to give a smooch on the forehead to

I don't know what to tell you, man, I fuckin love these guys

[cherryclitgirl]

A song of Fire

Paring: Maegor x reader

Warnings : Age gap(reader is 14 Maegor 27) Targaryen incest, grooming .

The relationship between Maegor Targaryen and his niece Y/n Targaryen was not something one would read in the history books. From what scholars and Maesters gathered, the princess was corrupted by her uncle. Which ultimately led to her death. But many don’t know, she was the only woman Maegor truly loved.

The princess was born in 24 AC, to Aeny’s Targaryen and his wife Alyssa Velaryon. She was born with the mesmerizing lilac eyes and platinum white hair. From a young age she was restless, and chaotic full of life with a beautiful face that would be known throughout the seven kingdoms. Her mother had a difficult time controlling her daughter as she would sneak away unknownst to the guards. She had a sharp tongue that in times found her in trouble with her mother. She dressed in beautiful dresses, with the finest of velvets and silks, she adorned herself with jewelry and head pieces fit for a princess. Her contrasting behavior of her sister ;Rhaena who was shy and reserved lured and amused many. Specially her uncle.

She began to form a close bond with her uncle Maegor, which drew concerns from her mother. Who suspected an inappropriate relationship between the two of them. Maegor was gentle with his niece, a rare sight for many. The looks they shared to one another were noticeable. The simple gestures Maegor offered his niece, such as a kiss on her hand or greeting in high Valyrian made Alyssa question the relationship. Maegor was a married man after all.

By 37 AC after the death of her grandsire Aegon, she witness first hand her uncle claim Balerion the Black dead. Some said they saw them both flying over king’s landing mounted on Balerion. Others claim they saw them flying together, each on their own dragon, the princess flying on her dragon Myraxes.

In 38 AC king Aenys declared Maegor to be hand of the king. This would be the start of a complicated relationship between the princess and queen Alyssa. Foolish and oblivious king Aenys was, as he failed to spot tension between his brother and daughter .

————————————————————————

The echoing sounds of footsteps and hushed voices that scurried up and down the halls of the Redkeep, made it difficult for the princess to ignore her septa. It was visible in her eyes. She was excited about the return of her uncle. With a side glance at her septa she spoke “I believe my mother would want me at her side before the arrival”. She said waiting to be dismissed.

The septa closed her book and pushed it away, deeply scanning the princess “you are not as clever as you think” she told the girl. “You are not as cautious as you think ” she added. “What does a girl of four and ten know about caution and cleverness?“ Septa Odella scoffed .

The princess shrugged slightly but gave her septa a slight smile. Her dismissive behavior was a habit her septa had yet to break.

Septa Odella irritation remained at ease “you may look for your mother now” she said. The princess did not hesitate, and swiftly left her chambers. She was not looking for her mother, nor her siblings. She had a destination in mind, a place no one knew about. She stopped at end of an empty hall, the only visible light being the torches hung on the wall. It was cold and empty, abandoned by the workers of the Red keep.

She felt him, his cold and cruel presence. The smell of the fresh blood mixing with the smell of sweat and metal. The crisp smell of burned men infiltrating her nostrils. “How many men did you kill uncle?” She spoke softly fighting back a smile of excitement. He came to her first, he always did and that was good enough for her.

He stood behind her, towering over like Balerion often did with his prey.

“Too many to count” he replied lowering his face to her ear. His voice deep and chilling. “I have something for you”. He said his voice becoming more soothing and calm. He turned her around with a gentle motion. He took her hand, caressing it slightly as he place a black and silver dragon ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit , the stone was dark and shiny, the dragon carefully cut and carved.

“Balerion” she grinned looking at the ring and back at Maegor. She always carried every gift he gave her, but this was different, this she would cherish deeply, this was reminder of him.

Maegor kept his expression serious and placed a kiss on her forehead “Just for you”. Maegor knew she had taste for fine things, and he had a taste for giving them to her. He commissioned many things for the princess, in his eyes, she deserved everything.

“It’s beautiful “ the princess smiled, Maegor’s hand found its way to her face, his thumb caressed her cheek , her skin felt soft and delicate beneath him. He was almost afraid to break her. “Your mother is looking for you” he reminded her.

The princess didn’t look away from Maegor. She loved him, at least she thought she did. She viewed her uncle in a different way than most people did . She had never seen his cruel and heartless side. Although she was fully aware of it. If she could have more time with, care for him and love him the way one is supposed to be loved. Mayhaps she could fix him.

“I know “ she replied, she wanted to stay there a little longer. Her mother had taken a watchful eye on the princess, making it difficult for the girl to spend time her uncle. Their encounters became quick and short . She could argue with mother any day. But now, it was her and Maegor.

“Is it true what they say?” Asked her uncle as she placed her hand over his “my mother wishes for me to marry Aegon?” The topic had been a large concern for the princess. It was Rhaena who was betrothed to Aegon; but Alyssa’s interest had changed.

Maegor didn’t react just stared into her eyes “Your mother plans are concerning , but Rhaena has been promised to Aegon, that will not change…. I will see to it” he reassured his niece. “He’s not someone you wish to marry.” He declared, almost as if he was speaking for her.

“How do you know that” she tilted her a head, her smile visible in the dim light.

“Because I know you” Maegor spoke firmly. He knew his niece, the same way one thinks they know someone. “He will bore you to death” he told the girl moving a silver strand of her hair behind her ear

The princess chuckled softly and rolled her eyes “Don’t all men?”. A small smile formed on his lips “Do I?” He asked her…..“sometimes” she teased him as she slithered away his grasp. He shook his head and pulled her closer wrapping his large frame around her. She was delicate, so pure. Too innocent for the world, too beautiful for any other man. He thought about her endlessly, he watched her from afar and up close. He would not dare to look at anything but her. “Go” he whispered to her.

“If you wish it” she said pulling away, Maegor looked at her, for a moment he didn’t let her pull away. He wanted to kiss her, it would be the first kiss he would place upon her lips. Those soft, rosy and desirable lips. Reluctantly he let go of her “I’ll you soon enough” he told her. She nodded , she stood on her toes and placed a kiss on his sharp jaw covered in dry blood. He could not kiss her, but a kiss on his cheek would suffice, for now.

He watched her walk away from him, leaving his hand itching to hold her again. He closed his eyes for a moment savoring the moment. It had been a quick moment of comfort. Something he found difficult to find since his new position as hand. Something he never experience with his wife. Alyssa’s plan to have y/n marry Aegon had been heard by the council and pondered upon. He was no fool, he was aware of the reasons involving the sudden change. Those in the small council who agreed were those in closeness with Alyssa, her constant lobbying had not gone unnoticed.

He could request the hand of his niece, but it would be denied. Aenys was a fool at times, but not entirely to hand over his daughter to a man the realm began to consider cruel and inhumane. For now, It was best to spare the child.

[akirathedramaqueen]

You know what I love about this show so much?

The kindness. The understanding. The redemption.

And that's in the setting of fucking Hell. The irony.

The characters are deeply flawed. They make a lot of mistakes. They fuck up even trying to fix things.

But they are trying. They have a lot of virtues, too, even though they don't see them themselves. They slowly but surely process their problems. They work around their trauma and the conditions they were raised in, deeply affected by it, hurting but still powering through, learning, and developing.

Although we are far from the end of these characters' journey, the SpindleHorse team does an amazing job of making these characters sympathetic, believable, and real. They give you the information and the opportunity to understand how complicated things are, how both sides of the conflict can be understood and blamed at the same time.

And the main thing? The forgiveness and redemption. You want these characters to do better, to be better, of course. But you also want them to be loved, despite the fact that what they did was obviously wrong.

You, as the viewer, already forgive them, and you just want them to forgive themselves. To allow themselves to be loved.

When I watched the show and saw them making the same mistakes I did, some horrible things I wouldn’t forgive myself for and struggled with for years, I suddenly understood the struggle. I empathized with them. I wanted to give them a hug. I wanted to comfort them and promise that things would get better and encourage them to give it one more try, one more talk. I wanted to scold them for self-loathing because I know all too well the kinds of dark places it can lead you to sometimes.

And then the thought comes to mind, "Can I afford a bit of this empathy for myself too? Just allow myself to live with the fuckup and allow myself to be human?"

It didn't fix me. But it eased my turmoil and taught me to understand it better. It taught me some empathy, too, and I thought I was the one with the emotional ingelligence of a nightstand. Well, I still kinda am, but at least I learned to listen to people sometimes.

I just want to thank the whole team who worked on Helluva Boss for all the self-reflections I experienced with their creation.

Thank you.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

The dog days are over.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[daeyumi]

Braving the Storm 🌌⛈️⚡️

[Linktober 2022 Day 20: Storm]

[astrolavas]

might as well put this here now that it's confirmed hunter was created as a toddler but i do have a headcanon that hunter's sprig plushie was originally a gift from belos from an early childhood...

belos getting it for him when hunter was a kid, back when he was still somewhat affectionate towards him, when he was actively making him love him/making him think HE loves him, before he grew colder/pulled away/started using more hurtful manipulation tactics... carrot and the stick, etc.

and then hunter not knowing what he did for the affection to end, wondering Where he went wrong, yearning to one day be good/helpful enough to get that affection back.......

and then after everything is done and belos is dead, hunter still asking darius/raine/whoever else would be going through the castle rubble to give him the plushie if they find it. cuz he still cares abt it, and it still WAS a source of comfort throughout his life, despite it being a gift from belos. in his mind the plushie is a positive thing in his life, that probably helped him through many scary moments and lonely nights..... a relic from the time he Felt like he was loved by his uncle.

[arabian-batboy]

And if I wrote an essay about how in a weird messed up way, Ra's al Ghul has been sort of a 2nd father-figure to Bruce over the years then what?

[aihoshiino]

i'm saying this again but if you're an akane fan talking about oshi no ko and the crux of your analysis revolves around shitting on kana then maybe you aren't actually as big of an akane fan as you like to think lol

[the-kingshound]

Putting the current angst aside for a second, I find it telling how the two major critiques to the game are that the characters are too nice to MC and that the ROs are too feminine (because they are nice. Because men aren't nice and don't say "dear" or "darling")

... I don't know