#awkward priest family

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Yokai Harem x Reader (II)

The two yokai men reach an agreement and you begin your journey together, searching for clues regarding the mysterious case of your incomplete reincarnation. You learn about the third of the Legendary Yokai, a gargantuan monster worshipped in times of war.

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Character Guide]

The next swish of the mysterious man's sword is parred by Kiritsubo, who managed to make his way to you in time.

"Wait! It's not entirely him, Murasaki, I can explain!" He shouts frantically.

"So you let him live. This is why you've never been good for anything." The dark haired man snarls in a low voice, disgust seeping through his sharp teeth.

It becomes obvious rather quickly that he has the advantage in terms of battle experience. You can only stare in fear, stuffing your wound with your jacket sleeve. What else can you do? You're bleeding profusely and if a demon of Kiritsubo's stature cannot compete, you'd be even less helpful.

"Listen to him, man, I genuinely don't know anything about your master!" You beg as your limbs are flooded with a prickling sensation. They're slowly going numb. "Please. I just want to go home."

Damn it. You have no idea whether the bleeding will stop anytime soon. Is this how you die? You won't even get a proper burial. Even worse, your family will live on thinking you vanished without a trace, unaware you've been stabbed to death by a crazy jackass in feudal Japan. You wish you could make them stop.

You squeeze your eyes tightly, trying to think of a way to escape, when you hear both men groan in pain. You look ahead to see them on the ground, clinging tightly to their chests, faces twisted in a grimace. Huh? They couldn't have killed each other in the few seconds they were out of your view. What is going on?

After a few agonizing moments, the yokai seem to calm down. Kiritsubo is gasping for air, clumsily pulling himself back up. Murasaki remains on the grass, forcing himself to appear collected despite the cold sweat coating his forehead.

"That's...what...I...meant..." The silver haired demon groans between hitched breaths. "Whew. You see it now, don't you? She doesn't emanate enough power to pull this off. It's coming from somewhere else."

Murasaki clicks his tongue in visible annoyance.

"So then, what do you suggest?"

"I don't know. But something is stopping you from killing her and there's a chance she's connected to the source."

"What are you guys whispering about?" You inquire, crawling closer towards the horned men. "And why did you suddenly collapse? You scared the hell out of me!"

"You didn't feel anything?" Kiritsubo questions you with raised eyebrows.

"Besides the, I don't know, stab wound? No, thankfully." You respond sarcastically.

Without a word, Murasaki stands up and approaches you. He crouches down to your level and nonchalantly slaps your hand away from your shoulder.

"Hey!"

"Have you ever tended to a wound in your life? You're shit at it." He uses his sword to cut off your sleeve and folds it over your gash with calculated movements. You hiss at the pain and glare at him. "Bite down on a stick if you can't handle it. Better than being dead."

The white haired yokai flashes you an awkward but reassuring smile.

"He might be an ass about it, but he knows what he's doing."

"Why are you helping me, anyways?" you point out, somewhat wary. "You literally tried to kill me a moment ago."

"I changed my mind. You'll help us find the damned bastard or whatever it is he's using to control us."

"What, the priest? Hell no, I'm going back to my world. I've had enough action for the rest of my life."

Murasaki finishes bandaging you and gives you one final press, almost as if messing with you, and you wince. He stands up and slides his sword back in its sheath.

"If you focus a little, you will find there was no question or request in my words. I'm not negotiating with a weakling like you."

Kiritsubo squats down before you and claps his hand together, pleadingly.

"Please think about it, (Y/N). I know you don't owe us anything, but there's a chance we could finally break the seal and be free. If you'd consider helping us. You can walk away, but that won't change the fact you're part of Abe no Nakamaro. He will want his powers back at some point, and we can protect you when the time comes."

You cross your arms and frown thoughtfully, pondering the options. He did save you twice already. So in a way, you're indebted to him. And if he's right, and you will have to deal with more crazy encounters in the future, it's probably better to have two powerful demons by your side.

"Alright, alright. I'll help you." You exclaim with a confident nod.

Kiritsubo grins, satisfied, and Murasaki huffs and looks away. There's a prolonged silence as you wait for them to continue with further instructions, but the men remain quiet.

"So...what now?" you eventually speak up.

"Oh. I thought you knew where to go next." the silver haired man retorts, confused.

"Idiot. She's not a compass." Murasaki scolds him. "Can you stand?" He adds, turning to you. "There's a shrine a few kilometers away that belonged to him. If we leave now, we should make it before sunset. Maybe we can find something there."

You try to prop yourself up, but Kiritsubo promptly scoops you with his sinewy arm and throws you on his back again.

"I'll carry you. Just hold on."

A faint blush dusts your cheeks, but you don't have the energy to argue it. You clutch onto his broad shoulders and nod.

The walk is uneventful and both yokai seem to be distracted. The gentle swaying is causing you to be more comfortable than you'd like to admit and your eyelids become heavy with exhaustion. Before you know it, your head drops against the toned back and you fall asleep.

By the time you open your eyes again, you've already reached your destination. You yawn and stretch, lazily scanning the surroundings. A heavy shadow looms over you and you glance up. Still groggy from your nap, you scream before you can fully process the object towering above.

It's a statue. A colossal statue of some sort of monster. A demon with thick, wide bull horns sprawling out imposingly, almost eclipsing the ridiculously muscular build. The creature has four arms, flexed in a threatening manner, with one hand gripping a heavy spear and the other a skull. The crimson light of the sunset creeps through the windows and reflects against the chiseled clay, giving the statue a devilish glow. You feel insignificant.

"That's Suma."

"W-what?" your head tilts to Kiritsubo.

"He's one of us. You might meet him soon, if he's been alerted of your presence. This is a shrine built for him, to bring good fortune during times of war."

You cannot help but gawk at the structure.

"Is it, uh, life sized?"

"Heh, almost. He's a little taller than this." He chuckles, slightly nostalgic.

You swallow dryly. Just a moment ago you thought Kiritsubo was unusually big.

"I'd rather not meet him, to be honest." You shiver at the idea.

"Don't worry about it. Now that Murasaki has joined us, you're pretty much safe from anything. He's the strongest of us." The yokai remarks with a sad smile.

"Really?"

You peek at the dark haired man, currently flipping through dusty manuscripts, and briefly observe him. Compared to Kiritsubo, he's quite slender, with noble, elegant features. And he'd be able to defeat this enormous beast? Then again, the glimpse you've caught of his swordsmanship is enough of a convincing argument.

What a bizarre gathering of creatures beyond your understanding.

You remember to look away when Murasaki grunts and throws the remaining scroll of paper. His lips form a thin line as he rakes his mind for the next step.

"Nothing here. But I'm rather certain he has to be at one of his hideouts. We'll check each and one of them if we have to." 

"Wait, are you saying he's still alive? We saw his body before Sekiya and Sakaki took him for the embalming and burial."

Murasaki scoffs at his partner's gullible nature.

"And you believed it? That parasite spent his entire life searching for ways to prolong his reign. He's probably hiding somewhere, waiting for his renewed part of the soul to return to him." 

He rests against the wall and points a clawed finger at you. 

"This must've been his solution. Releasing his remaining energy until it found a proper vessel to grow stronger, and patiently awaiting the body swap. Then we go back to being whipped dogs fulfilling his whims."

It's your turn to be outraged, twisting your mouth downwards.

"No way, I'll pound that old man into sand!" You bark and throw a jab against the air, emphasizing your threat. "As if I'd just hand myself over."

"I'm not sure if it'll be that easy, (Y/N)..." Kiritsubo glances at you with a hurt expression. "He's a terrifying, vengeful bastard."

"Not if we find him first and take him out." Murasaki counters with a glint of determination in his eyes. "Humans need to rest, don't they? We'll spend the night here and tomorrow we head out. Kiritsubo, find me a map so we can keep track of the locations. I'll bring the wood for a fire."

And with this, he marches out. Kiritsubo scurries to his duty and you quietly follow his movements. He seems to be used to executing Murasaki's orders. You hadn't considered their group dynamic much, but it appears to have some rather complex hierarchies involved. You almost wish you could witness all of them together, wondering how they'd interact with each other. 

Who knows? If you stick around, it could happen eventually. Murasaki was surprisingly easy to convince, so the other yokai might as well agree to keep you alive until you find their source of misfortune. Heh. Almost like a harem, or something. You snicker to yourself.

Which reminds you...

The fire has been lit and Murasaki mumbles something about guarding the perimeter. This time you hurry outside after him. You reach out to the dark haired man and pull on his kimono sleeve.

He turns to you, mildly irked.

"What?"

"Teach me how to use a sword." You state with the assertiveness of an order.

"Why? I can assure you I'm more than enough. I've never been defeated." He stares at you, incredulous.

"I don't want to rely on you all the time. You're already this close to being unbearable", you explain, pinching your fingers together. "Besides, if I'm going to be stuck among beasts, I'd very much prefer being the one doing the cool stuff."

And with that, you pretend to slice through an invisible enemy, whistling the sound of your sword cutting through the air. You furrow your eyebrows, imitating the engrossed expression of a seasoned samurai in the middle of a battleground. Murasaki quickly lifts a hand to his mouth - did he chuckle just now? - and responds, the faintest amusement in his voice:

"As you wish. But I'm warning you now, I won't hold back."

"I've been injured twice in less than 24 hours, I'm sturdy enough." You answer, patting your chest proudly.

Next time one of the Legendary Yokai comes for you, you won't be as vulnerable. That's for sure.

[damiansgoodgirll]

i knew i had to make a part two so here we go

damian priest x reader

here’s part one if you missed it - what i always wanted

what i always wanted pt. 2

“is everything okay?” rhea knocked on the bedroom door for the fifth time in two hours. you locked yourself in the room when you found out that you were pregnant. you didn’t want to see anyone as your mind was racing and you weren’t thinking straight.

rhea knew something was wrong. you never locked yourself in before and even when you were too sad to talk, you were always available in case rhea needed you.

so yes, it was weird for her to have you locked in a room.

“y/n please…can you say something?” she asked again, desperate. you knew well that she was capable of tearing the door down.

“uhm…can i please stay alone rhea?” you were sitting on the bed. the pregnancy test still in your hands.

“no”

“rhea…”

“no, let me in or i’ll break the goddamn door!”

you didn’t want to argue anymore so you simply unlocked the door and let her in, leaving the pregnancy test on the bed.

“so what’s going on?” she asked before eyeing the bed and seeing the test laying on it “no way…is it…is it positive?” she asked and you nodded, tears in your eyes again “is it damian’s?” she asked again and once again you nodded.

she knew the answer. she wanted you to confirm it.

“he doesn’t know yet right?”

“he doesn’t have to know rhea!” you almost screamed.

“don’t you think that he’s gonna find out eventually…” she said, sitting on the bed next to you.

“i don’t want him to know…he’ll get with me again just for the kid and i don’t want that, i absolutely don’t want that! it was pretty clear he didn’t want to raise a family with me but i know he will be feeling guilty if he knew he left me pregnant and alone…” you said, tears falling from your eyes “he’s the only man i’ve ever loved but i can’t force him to be with me…”

“do you think he doesn’t love you anymore?” she asked and you slightly nodded “oh girl…you couldn’t be more wrong…he’s broken without you, i see it everytime we are training together, he can’t stop asking me about you…he wants you back but he’s too scared”

“that’s why we broke up in the first place rhea! when i talked about a possible pregnancy he took a step back, being too scared to even have that conversation with me! i - i don’t know if i can handle a pregnancy without him but i don’t want him back just because of this…” you told her, rhea understanding your position.

“you two need to meet and talk. like real fucking adults. he would never back up from this, not only for the baby but because of you, he loves you, he wants you back, he’s sure you hate him and he rather be a ghost in your life that having you telling him that you hate him, you two need to meet. right, fucking, now” rhea said and even if her words shocked you a bit, you knew she was right.

“i’m texting him…”

“good! i’ll leave you alone, i’m going out for a few hours, need to do groceries, text me if you need me here okay?”

“okay” you smiled at her.

you composed a little, drying your tears and fixing your make up a little, at least to look presentable.

damian swore he missed a heartbeat when he saw your name popping up on his phone. you wanted to meet him at rhea’s place and he couldn’t wait for it.

he almost ran to his car when he saw the text message.

not even twenty minutes later you heard a knock on the front door.

taking a few deep breaths you stood up to open the door.

“whatever happens, it’s me and you little bean” you whispered and smiled softly touching your belly before letting him in.

“hey…” he slowly greeted you.

“hi”

“how are you?” he felt awkward. like he didn’t know what to say.

“i’ve…i’ve been better…”

“yeah…” an uncomfortable silence before he started talking again “so, you wanted to see me?”

“yes…there’s something i have to tell you, why don’t we sit on the couch?” you asked and he nodded so you led him into the big living room.

he sat in front of you, his eyes never leaving your face.

“y/n…i’m…”

“no damian, please, let me talk…it’s really important and…uhm, well, it’s something you have every right to know…” you said, never meeting his eyes.

“okay…”

“damian i’m pregnant.”

silence.

an awkward and uncomfortable silence.

“you…are pregnant” he repeated and you nodded “and it’s mine” he said. not asked, he was sure that the baby was his baby.

“i know you didn’t want that and i…”

“i love you y/n” he interrupted you “i never stopped loving you and the day we broke up was the saddest day of my life…i can’t believe i’ve even been so stupid to let you go…that’s the biggest mistake i’ve ever made” you were speechless “i want a family with you, i want our house to be full of kids…” he slowly got up and knelt in front of you “i want to wake up to our baby crying because they’re hungry, or because of a nightmare…i want to hold them while they are sleeping, i want to have a family with you, i’ve been too scared to admit it to myself, and for that i let you go and lost you…”

“you could never lose me damian…”

“i lost you the moment i broke up with you…” he says crying a little.

“you hurt me, a lot…and it will time to forgive you but i can’t live without you here, i love you so much damian and i missed you so bad these past weeks…”

“i love you, i want you back and i’ll fight through hell if i have to” he said making you smile.

“what about the baby?”

“i want this, i want this y/m, i’m serious…i want to have a cute little family with you, i want to be a dad, and i know you’ll be an amazing mom, i just know it…” he sat back on the couch next to you, taking your hands into his bigger ones “let’s do this, let’s have this baby together, cause i ain’t leaving you…”

you smiled, thinking about how you missed him and now that you had him again.

“let’s go back home” he said and you nodded, having him to lead you back home.

the little home where you will be growing an amazing family together.

———————————————

part 3

[thebitchesterbrothers]

Dream of the Endless is the prince of a small but wealthy and beautiful country. He’s not the oldest child so the crown will go to his oldest sister Death when his parents are going to die or abdicate one day.

He’s not important enough to rule one day but still too known to live an ordinary life. He grew up sheltered in a golden cage with certain expectations from his parents to live by. So he’s not surprised when one day his parents invite possible suitors for a lucrative wedding.

From Dreams perspective they leave him no choice but to flee from his own birthday party where he’s supposed to be sold off to the highest bidder.

And while his furious parents are busy firing his bodyguards Dream wanders through parts of the capital he’s never seen before.

He’s so high on the feeling of finally feeling free and unobserved for the first time in his entire life that he doesn’t pay close attention to his surroundings when he turns the corner.

Stumbling right into the arms of Hob Gadling.

Hob, who had spent the last ten years traveling and living abroad before returning home to finally settle down, maybe start a family of his own.

Hob, who never really kept track of the drama and scandals of the royal family.

Who doesn’t know that the beautiful - but slightly socially awkward and uptight - man in his arms is the most desired bachelor of his native country. And his prince.

But what he knows is that love at first sight most definitely exists because there’s no way in hell he won’t marry this dream of a man.

Needless to say that Dream spends the next week in Hobs tiny and barely renovated flat above the Inn Hob had recently bought. Half of that time he spends in Hobs embrace, the other half in his lap. Dream refuses to let his new love out of sight, clings to him, afraid Hob might find out about his family heritage and will try to get rid of him, trying not to get in trouble for hiding - and deflowering - the prince.

But eventually, on the eighth day Dream confesses he’s the prince everyone is so desperately looking for. The prince who’s supposed to be married off to a proper and, most importantly, rich spouse.

So on the ninth day Hob and Dream say yes to each other in an old chapel by the river, the only witnesses the priest and a tiny black cat who Dream takes home afterwards.

On the tenth day the royal family finds them and Hob finds out what he’s got himself into.

But looking at his gorgeous husband next to him he decides it’s all worth it if he gets to live the rest of his life side by side with him.

[antialiasis]

Icelandic Fact of the Moment: Words Named After People

Sometimes, a person's behaviour becomes so iconic that they get permanently associated with that thing. Accordingly, Icelandic has some compounds where the first part is someone's first name, forever tying some lucky/unlucky individual to an abstract concept.

Gróusaga (gossip)

This one is admittedly not named after a real person. Instead, the namesake is Gróa á Leiti, a character from Jón Thoroddsen's 1850 romantic novel Piltur og stúlka, often considered the first Icelandic novel traditionally published in Iceland. Gróa, who in the book lived at the farm of Leiti, would spread salacious stories around, always keeping the source anonymous. Ever since, anonymous tales of gossip have been called gróusögur, or "Gróa stories". The word is generally used dismissively, to suggest a story is not true.

Þórðargleði (schadenfreude)

Schadenfreude is a fun German word encapsulating an important part of the human experience, namely the idea of taking joy in others' suffering. English just wholesale borrowed the word from the Germans. In Iceland, instead, we call it þórðargleði, or "Þórður's joy". In the 1947 memoirs of an Icelandic priest, Árni Þórarinsson, he explains how one day he met this one farmer Þórður, who was laughing uproariously about how in the north of Iceland it hadn't stopped raining all summer and everyone's hay was ruined, and he'd love to see the looks on their faces. Árni promptly coined a new word, and it stuck, forever immortalizing this guy as the epitome of a special kind of asshole.

Höskuldarviðvörun (spoiler alert)

In April 2016, the Progressive Party was in disarray after their chairman Sigmundur Davíð Gunnlaugsson finally very reluctantly resigned after being implicated in the Panama Papers. The party called a meeting, with a slew of reporters waiting outside to hear who would be the new chair and thus prime minister. MP Höskuldur Þórhallsson exited the meeting early and walked down the stairs into the crowd of reporters, who asked if he had anything to say, probably expecting a "No comment" at best. Instead, Höskuldur thought they already knew the results and were just asking for his take on it, so he told them he was fully behind the selection of Sigurður Ingi Jóhannesson in the prime minister position and more. The video is gloriously awkward.

A week later, Stöð 2 aired an episode of the sitcom Modern Family, in which a character saying "Spoiler alert" was subtitled with Höskuldarviðvörun, or "Höskuldur warning". Everyone took to this with glee because the incident was very funny and also something about the sound of the word feels very satisfying and appropriate. The translator, Arnór Hauksson, had been stuck on how to translate the term, which didn't have a good Icelandic equivalent at the time, and was then apparently inspired by tweets suggesting Höskuldur should have said "Spoiler alert!" before he started speaking. Today, höskuldarviðvörun has stuck and is legitimately used in, for instance, newspaper reviews of films that are about to discuss spoilers.

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

I live for all these ships with Apollo like Apollo and Thanatos, Cupid, and even the most dumpsterfire ship of all time Copollo (I go feral over these two)

But one ship that stood out to me was Boreas and Apollo, and apparently the Boreads describe Apollo as "Beloved of our sire" And the fact that Koios is basically Boreas' boss makes this so much more better

So basically I'm asking for Boreas and Apollo headcanons 👀

(And if you take fic reqs, I wouldn't mind a fic with these two)

Apollo is SOOOOOO Shippable lmao XD He has such a variety of lovers and that really allows us to be able to explore a variety of relationship!

Healthy or toxic, lmao XD Copollo is Top Tier imo

and on the topic of Boreas, I have one extra thing to add there because I personally headcanon that Lelantos, titan of air & moving unseen (and apollo's uncle), used to be the head of the wind gods but was stripped of his title by Zeus post-titan war because he sided with Kronos.

So therefore, both of Boreas's bosses are relatives of Apollo's lmao XD

HEADCANONS, EH?

ahem

Imo, Hyperborea was some sort of courting gift or something Boreas gave Apollo. Because here's the thing with Hyperborea:

It's the One Place Boreas does not blow his winds, hence its title of Eternal Spring.

Boreas's palace resides at the southern border of Hyperborea, with gryphons who live in BOTH places.

Three of Boreas's son are PRIESTS of Hyperborea, and serve Apollo when he's there.

Three of Boreas's daughters joined Artemis's hunt (Oupis features in my fic Shattered Minds, btw!)

Hyperborea is literally "over the north wind" in Greek.

I think we can all agree winter is the time Apollo and Boreas hook up lmao XD

Boreas ALSO, in some versions, is a suitor of Hyacinthus, but he clearly doesn't hold any ill-will about Hya & Apollo because let's be real, he would have picked Apollo too XD

So imagine this. Hyacinthus & Apollo making out. Then Apollo & Boreas making out. HECK HYACINTHUS & BOREAS MAKING OUT.

THIS MEME IS THEM

ALSO I RAISE YOU-

Zephyrus has a crush on Apollo :3 (It makes sense. also Apollo is widely associated with spring and Zephyrus is the SPRING wind, and likes pretty guys and Apollo is the prettiest so-)

I blabbered about that in the Discord with @xxzephyrbreezexx and our fellow Discord user whom I don't know if they have a blog here 😭 KNOW I AM POINTING VIOLENTLY IN YOUR DIRECTION

You are Zephyrus. You have a crush on Apollo. You also get a crush on his boyfriend.

AND THEN YOUR BROTHER FUCKS BOTH OF THEM

The Hyacinthus Debacle, as I have dubbed it, also created a bit of a rift between Boreas and Zephyrus, which is Sad because they are usually associated with each other in literature, art, ect :(

Family dinners are Awkward. Even more so when Boreas brings Apollo along to the dinners hosted at his place.

They became Especially Awkward when Helios and Selene were still around because then Boreas would have to deal with Helios's Dad Instincts kicking in and staring him down.

(Helios is Boreas's uncle btw!)

(I have a Boreas thing planned in my Helios fic eheheheh. It's funny, don't panic)

And whenever Apollo pops in the visit Eos about light-related things or Astraeus (Eos & Astraeus are the winds' parents) it Still Is Awkward because Zephyrus just. BOLTS out of the room.

He is simultaneously Gay For and Terrified of Apollo.

Also if Asteria tags along with Apollo (because she is shooting stars/night prophecy and Astraeus is dusk/stars) she gives Zephyrus The Death Stare.

He is equally terrified of her, minus the horny.

Cupid/Eros, eh?

...are you in the Discord by chance? Because the fellows I mentioned previously and I have also discussed this👀

We get Boreas in my next fic, btw! :D No ApolloXBoreas, sadly, but I do have plans on incorporating them into a fic!

Perhaps my revolution fic, because I am getting Ideas concerning Boreas, Apollo, and Koios... >:3

[scarfacemarston]

Kurt Wagner x Male Reader

TW: Light Internalized homophobia and homophobia from others. * Kurt didn’t know his feelings were “wrong” until he kissed his male crush as a young teen. His foster mother reprimanded him strongly but “kindly” didn’t tell the circus master, who would have punished him severely. * He struggled with his feelings towards men growing up because why not? Why did a “creature” like him deserve love anyway? Especially the “wrong” type of love. It made him feel like even more of a freak or outcast than he already felt. * His religious studies made him further question his sexuality, but it wasn’t until meeting a gay priest who had him truly question the Bible that he began to feel at peace with his sexuality. This stayed with him even when he briefly became a priest

* As an X-Men, he finally felt free to be his entire self, not just as a mutant, but as an LGBT+ man as well.  His fellow X-Men immediately supported his identity and Gambit even tried to play wingman for him for other people. * He is proudly out, and his questioning and LGBT+ students always come to him for advice and to spend time with him. They know he’s a safe space. While all the professors are safe spaces, Kurt is something special * While he does dress flamboyantly, he is NOT the stereotype! He does have a weakness for the occasional pirate shirts and pants, and he loves his earrings, but he says he is a flamboyant man in many ways - not because of his sexuality. Plus - he knows you like how his ass looks in those trousers. ; ) * Praises Germany for their LGBT+ measures and wishes the U.S. was the same. He would definitely want to take his boyfriend to pride in Berlin! * He is the sweetest boyfriend you could ever ask for. Expect all the romantic gestures, even the extremely cheesy ones. You roll your eyes at his theatrics, but someone he manages to make even the lamest gesture so damn charming! * It’s awkward at first, given the number of fingers he has, but he loves to hold hands. He’s very publicly affectionate - but if you’re embarrassed by it, he will respect that. * He will allow his tail to wrap around your waist while you’re cooking or reading or watching TV together whether you two are already cuddling or not. * His fur is soft as velvet and keeps you incredibly warm - his arms feel like a safe haven of warmth and closeness……..but the hot summer nights make sharing a bed with him hard. You both love cuddling so much, but you two just can’t make it work unless you have the room seriously air-conditioned. * Surprise dates! He loves surprising you when you get home from work with him, who is already having your favorite takeout and movie ready to go. * You don’t usually deal with homophobia, but Kurt can diffuse a situation easily with his his easy going nature, cleverness and quick wit. *He’s a switch in bed. He’s known for being a service top, but he is JUST as happy to bottom. He’s naturally gifted in bed. If you ask him how he became so damn talented, he just shrugs with a laugh. He can play you like the fiddle. *Absolutely wants to marry you one day. He is a bit traditional in some ways. He’d love a family, but actually adopting/having a child makes him nervous. Adopting a mutant would be the best way to ease his anxieties. BUT if you don’t want children, he continues paying attention to his found family.

[lizzaneia-elizalde]

Yandere! Male! Archpriest x gn! Penpal! Ill! Reader

OOOH I've been waiting for this guy. He's been planned ever since the start, and I finally got to write him! Enjoy the convoluted world building between him and the other yandere men of Saphiri!

BTW: Liviticus has always been one of my beloved OCs with quite the lore, so forgive me if it did get a bit too confusing hshadad he is a priest, but I am not confining him to our existing religions of modern society. So it's up to you which religion, may it be made up or not, he is serving. I think this is also the first time i'm explicitly telling the physical appearance of the yandere? I don't remember. But yeah!

Yandere! God name: Liviticus

TW: Reader has cancer, death

BE WARNED, THIS IS LONG... LIKE MY LONGEST FIC.

Liviticus Obelia has always been a pious man.

He had everything in his life. Money, a loving family, anything he wanted, needed, and more.

With his extravagant life with his rich family, he had always thought that he should return the blessings he got to the people. But he doesn't know how though. First of all, he's an awkward man. He doesn't know how to interact that much due to being an introvert, and people avoid him quite a lot due to his Family's financial status being at the 1 percentile. Second, he had always thought that social aspects of society is not needed for people like him who is independently content with themselves.

Those words coming from the 10 year old Liviticus while sniffling from being rejected by a group of friends made his eldest sister, Koh, roll her eyes and pat him on the head, and his little sister, Kaoeia, giggle.

So, he found himself burying himself in books in the library his father owns.

Sure, there are more child friendly books there, but what got his attention was theology books about different religions.

He would religiously read all of them, immersing himself in the mythos of the gods he's reading on it. Even those of the olden and forgotten. His eyes would sparkle whenever he reads a book about them, maybe a holy scripture, and now, 15 years later, he graduated from his theology course.

Seeing as this was a good opportunity to now return the blessings he got from god, he enters the holy church of the religion of his choosing.

He takes the oath, and was quickly becoming a beloved member of the church.

With how genuine he is with helping people and "repenting" about having too much in his life, it's no wonder people and his fellow church personnel love him.

That, and his angelic looks was something that added to the his popularity.

With his long, ash golden hair that softly drapes on his shoulders like waterfalls, his eyelashes that almost looks white on his smooth skin, and his amber eyes that looks gold in the sunlight, he looks like an entity not of this world at all.

Everyone felt so compelled to rely on Liviticus. With his tall stature and strong build, added with his soft and understanding personality that will make even the most of the martyrs jealous, he exudes an almost godly energy in him.

He's genuine with helping too. He's that much of a good man.

That means, a lot of people wanted to be his romantic partner.

But when asked, he would just smile that partially blinded those who asked.

"I am not ready for that yet. I have devoted myself in serving the people right now."

Oh, how pious he is.

If they only knew.

Liviticus, is seen as a man who is extremely devoted to the religion he's serving.

With how he is and his high rank in the church, it is no doubt that he's a man of virtue and holiness.

It was true. He is a pious man. Someone who's serving his god/s with the full extent of his efforts, heart, and soul. He's also genuine with helping people and repenting on having too much.

But Liviticus was nothing short of just putting up a facade of devotion to god/s.

In reality, he's interested in religion, sure, but not in the devoted vision. He's someone who looks at every religion as entertainment. Just like how people treat Greek Mythology as stories, he looks at all of religions like that. No matter how widespread and popular it is.

Even the religion and church he's serving is nothing more than work to him and an obligation to serve.

He treats them as mere stories that fascinated a lot of people to the point of mass fascination. Was all of these true? Did all of these stories written in the holy scriptures of the religions he studied actually happen?

If they're fictional, how did it capture the heart of a lot of people? Did the author intend for it to be so big and so... Religious? How did they feel? Was the sensational occurrence changed something in them?

And, if they're actually real...

Then,

How can he be a god himself?

In a weird twist, Liviticus was so enamored with the godly figures in the religions he read that he wants to become one.

As unreasonable as it is, he doesn't care.

He's too in his head to think rationally.

So, him serving the people went from a genuine guilt to feeling like it's an obligation, a task to become a god. After all, he wants to be the helpful type of god.

In his mind, it was a practice in order to serve his future devotees.

The reason why he wants to be one?

Well, other than being an archpriest, he was an author beforehand.

He had created a world inside his high end laptop just like how normal fantasy authors have.

But in his case, he as an author, is a character in it. Nay, an active role inside of it as if the world is real.

He had created Saphiri. A world in which there's new currencies, new languages, new magic infused technology, entities, and of such.

Every single detail is well thought out. He even had different folders for different aspects. Like the languages folder has more folders containing new words, letters, and numbers. Magic? New runes and inspired elemental systems. Currencies? He has made a vector art of the coins and cash, and how it circulates between different countries.

He's too meticulous that it was almost unbelievable.

And his proofreader and the only other person who reads his works?

It's you.

Liviticus was rarely seen outside of the church grounds.

And if he was outside, it's usually to visit his family, or...

Liviticus sighed in content, reading the newest addition to his world. It was a person (not character. He hates that term) named Eros. He's still a child, but once he got your approval, he will work on Eros' upbringing.

The elevator dings, signaling that he reached his floor.

Once the doors opened, the smell of the sterile environment of the hospital lingers on his nose. He hears the nurses, doctors, patients and visitors alike walking and talking amongst themselves.

Thanks to his friend, who is the hospital chairperson here, Xavier allowed Liviticus to move you to one of the private suites.

You and Liviticus met when his family got a penpal for him. They saw how he's struggling with connecting to other people, and suggested penpals.

You were not that far, at least two cities away. And you're the same age as him too. That made it easier to connect with you.

Because apparently, he's shy when it comes to in person connection. He felt awkward staring into other people since he always felt a wall between them, let alone connecting with them. So, a penpal was more or less a cry of help.

And it worked amazingly. He liked you a lot since you love writing, albeit not in the theological sense like he was. You're an amazing writer, and has a keen eye when it comes to looking at plotholes. So, he regularly sends small drafts and manuscripts along with the letter with you.

You are patient with him, always treating him with kindness that he never felt from other people. Even when he's being rude and aloof, you patiently broke his walls down and now he's attached to you.

Being his only friend, he shared a lot of things to you. His desire to be god, the questions about religions, etc. He felt safe with you. You weren't judging him, and always answered his questions with a critical, neutral eye. Yet these replies still held the softness and friendliness he took comfort in.

Liviticus longed to see you in real life, but you weren't exactly as blessed financially as him. Sure, he's only two cities away, but your family didn't really want you going out and buying tickets or buying gas just to meet a penpal. He yearned to see your face finally, to see your face in real life and hold you close.

He wants you so bad that it's almost painful to breath. You were the only one who understood him. Even his family didn't understand him that much.

So, he took this yearning to another level.

Seeing that you were so nice to him, he decided to adapt your personality in real life. Gentle, kind, friendly... Someone who's easy to talk to and is incredibly patient and heartfelt. Helpful and genuine, Liviticus felt closer to you as he took your characteristics as his own. It felt like you were there with him.

And, years passed by...

Finishing his degree and finally having the time and permission of his family, he drove his newly bought car to your city just to find you.

His heart pounding, he found your address that you told him years ago, and saw you on the stairs of your home, sitting and writing something on your lap.

A letter. His letter.

He smiles and runs outside of his car to meet you, hugging you without any warning that freaked you out.

But, when you saw who he was, you grinned widely and hugged him back.

The rest is history...

But why is he in the hospital in present day, looking despondent while slapping his face to gather courage?

Two years within meeting you in real life, Liviticus regularly visited you. Spending time with you and getting to know you more in a personal level.

But, heated glances and affectionate gazes weren't lost. Both of you were two hearts beating in sync, as if the world intended the both of you to be together. It was a natural pull, and if the concept of soulmates were real, you were his, and he was yours.

A kiss on the lips on your birthday, Liviticus' mind slipped from trying to become god momentarily.

He's so happy just being by your side.

But then...

When he had to train to serve the church he chose, he had minimal contact with you. But, despite not having a label yet, he knew you would wait.

You would wait, right?

Then, one day, his phone rang. It felt weird, since it was already 3am, but he answered it.

He found himself feeling like heaven fell on him as the phone dropped to the floor, cracking the protector on it. He grabbed his coat and ran to his car to your house, almost violating road laws on the way.

You suddenly collapsed that night while trying to drink water. Your stomach felt so painful, like it was eating you inside out. You were so pale and white, and with a trembling body, you collapsed on your kitchen, being found by your mother who got startled awake.

When you were rushed to the hospital, you were found to have colon cancer.

It was almost too much for you, making you wonder what you did wrong to deserve such an ailment on your body.

And Liviticus felt like it was cruel. Too cruel.

You were so good and sweet, so why did you get such a dangerous and life threatening condition? And at such a late stage too?

Then and there, Liviticus truly questioned everything.

If god/the gods is/are real, then why were you being tested like this? You didn't do anything bad at all. You can't hurt a fly, so why hurt you?

Is this punishment due to him questioning their existence? Is this a cruel revenge due to him being preposterous and daring to be god? Is this an unfair judgement on a person that has nothing to do with him being unholy?

He might as well be swallowed by hell than seeing you cry your eyes out with such painful wails of agony.

He forced insisted on footing the bill. You and your family were adamant, but he insisted. His family was willing too, seeing as they had the money to spend and that you were also loved by them. And, you were transferred to his city to monitor you closely and closer to the best doctors out there.

He regularly visited you, always making sure to treat you like usual. Reading manuscripts and making you judge them. He tried to be cheerful. He really did.

But, seeing you getting weaker and weaker everyday was painful. You looked tired, but still carried a smile to comfort him as he kisses your hand.

And everyday, he got more and more desperate praying to gods to forgive him for being preposterous. He wants you to be healed, or even just transfer the sickness to him.

Anything at all.

He did all of these good things, and forgot his want to be god, just to appease those up above.

Suddenly, he became religious.

But it was not enough.

He numbly stands outside your door. The doctors and nurses were desperately trying to wake you up. But your limp body didn't respond at all.

You were dead.

Everything became a blur to him.

One thing, he's calling your family, then him consoling them, his family consoling him, then picking your coffin, and then now he's leading the funeral, blessing your coffin as you got buried in a mausoleum.

He only snapped out of his trance when he's kneeling in front of your grave, in the dead of the night, with only the moon and candles illuminating him. The wind was still, so was the night. It's as if letting him snap out of his mind.

His lips trembled, and in his priest garments, he shuffled close to your grave and hugged it, tears silently streamed down his face as he cried without a noise.

Everything felt so... Dull.

He did everything for the gods to forgive him, but they didn't. If they were real, then they would see his repentance, right?

But now, all he could do is weep. His heart torn apart as it got buried alongside you.

If you wish, he wants to be buried along you too.

Then, anger came.

Why can't they see it? Why can't they see that he's doing his best for them to forgive him? Why were you dead? You were innocent in all of this! You were only indulging his sins and was not directly mocking them! Is this his punishment? To break his heart this greatly?!

Is it not enough to shatter him, but you too?!

You had so much to live for! You were an excellent writer, and had plans to publish your book!

And...

"I.. I didn't even get to court you properly..." He wept, shakily taking a breath.

He pressed his sweaty forehead on your picture, tears still silently falling as he placed a chaste kiss on your face.

He got home that night, and left an email to the church that he's quitting.

He can't kept pretending to be okay.

Rotting in his bed on the days passed, he wished and longed to be in your arms again. To touch you, feel you once more.

Maybe, it will be a good idea to do something to distract him. You won't like it seeing him so miserable, and he needed to make you proud even if you were in the afterlife.

Trudging to his desk, his once Luscious ash blonde hair was dull, and his white eyelashes were permanently wet. His amber eyes dark and lost of sheen, he looked at the Saphiri folder in front of him before opening another document.

With shaky hands, he finally wrote his document. His role as god in that world.

He wrote in which he's someone who desired to be god to entertain his lover, y/n. He created this world solely for you, and just you. He wrote that he came from a world called Earth, and that is ascension to godhood was to see if he can meet you again. He wrote that he got transmigrated to this world, and had the godly powers like a worldbuilding author. And that he had more than enough power to pull your soul back to life in that world.

He finished writing by 4am, and he got to his bed with a small smile on his face.

Not knowing that what he wrote birthed to a world where he's ascended to godhood.

When he woke up, he's in an endless void of an opal sheen, and he was floating in the middle of it.

His heart pounded, looking down at his outfit.

A white cloth draped over him to look like a robe, and a gold anklet.

"Where am I?"

The void in front of him rippled, and he flinched before gasping.

A tear in front of him appeared, and it was overlooking a planet so green and blue, like earth but different...

Somehow, this felt natural.

He raised his hand and tried to "zoom in". And just as expected, the "screen" zoomed in, making him look over what seems like an old England inspired Empire, but he can see differences.

Magic.

In awe, he looked and watched as people and different types of creatures, familiar and new interacted with one another. He's beginning to be entertained until he heard the newspaper boy yell.

"Saphiri news! Saphiri news! The Crown Prince Yuno had a scandal! A mistress? What happens to his fiancee?!"

Saphiri?

His heart pounded as he tried to do something more.

"F-find Duke Eros."

And, in command, the screen flew up high and went to a majestic chateau.

There was a man, also in early 20's, talking with his soldiers with a frown on his face.

It is Saphiri. His creation.

He stumbled back, but only got to sit in a chair that materialized behind him.

"Oh god..." He muttered, eyes wide with disbelief.

He did it. Godhood.

He became a god.

Not just any god, but the god of his own world.

He scoffs in disbelief, still in shock as he slowly internalized what's happening.

"No way..." He smirks, a bit excited, before remembering where the hell he was.

"Shit... Um, home?"

And indeed, another rip in the void happened. There's his room, just outside of the rip.

This was surreal.

He closed the void by running his hand down on the void.

He tried to remember what happened, but all he could remember now was...

"Y/n."

He gulped. He remembered writing down that he should have enough power to make you alive here.

So, he closed his eyes and puts his hand forward.

"Y/n, come back to my arms, please."

And slowly, light sprites danced around him, making his eyes shot up and look in wonder as it, your feet, materialized in front of him.

In an agonizing speed that drained his energy, he focused on bringing your soul to him. Sweat trickled his forehead as you appeared slowly, bit by bit.

And once you fully materialized, you fell down, making Liviticus catch you.

He caught the familiar whiff of the cologne you use, before you got admitted to the hospital. Your being overwhelmed his senses, as he found himself crying again.

"Y/-y/n?" He whispered, making you stir.

Oh god...

"Liviticus?" You whispered, eyes slowly blinking open.

He desperately hugged you tighter, sobbing loudly on your neck.

He missed you so bad.

"You're alive! Oh god you're alive..." He painfully said out, the hiccups making him seem like a lost child.

You were also in disbelief. You swore you died, but here you are, hugging Liviticus in a weird white robe. You wanted to question everything, but seeing Liviticus cry in your arms was enough to make you shut up and just sooth him, smiling and grateful to be alive. You weren't in pain anymore, and that's enough.

Liviticus explained the situation to you, and you were amazed. He became a god? And he revived you?

You felt so flustered and grateful once more. If it weren't for him, you're still dead. And, even if you were dead, you didn't get to thank him when he took care of you back in earth.

Speaking of, you tried to go back to Earth, but it's as if a barrier was placed when you tried to enter the rip. But you were satisfied here already, in this void with him.

Slowly, the void got filled with a small pocket dimension only the both of you knew. A light blue sky with a night and day cycle, cute creatures that both of you wrote about now came to life, a valley filled with familiar and new flora, and a small, cozy house on top of a hill.

It's as if you were watching a movie as you watch him affect Saphiri. He pulled a person from Earth and made him appear on the throne of the Emperor. He became Aeron.

You were shocked at the twists when Aeron became a Demon King, and be obsessed with his darling.

You also got invested in the love story of Duke Eros and his darling. The way both him and her curbstomped the shitty crown prince Yuno was amazing, and it made you hoot and holler like you're watching a soap opera.

And Callisto.

The fact that Liviticus made Callisto self aware was a twist you didn't expect, and after sending Callisto back, you tackled Liviticus and gushed about how insane it was.

Liviticus grinned, hugging you back and kissing your forehead.

He loves seeing you so happy and entertained.

But that's the thing.

Now, he's the one treating the world he created as if it was still a document on his computer. Forgetting they're real people that had lives of their own. And not just mere characters on paper.

He became the thing he detested back then.

Foolish gods who're just blindly putting unjust punishments for their own good, entertainment, or want.

Thousands of lives under this god who only has one goal, and it's to entertain naive you, who also shared his outlook that these people, this world is just something that they can mess with.

But who cares?

Liviticus is god.

And you were his deity, his soulmate.

You want to ruin Saphiri? Sure. Why not. Want it prosper? He'll do it.

The world is putty in his hands, and he's putty in yours.

So who is really in charge here?

But all you should know is that this omnipresent being is at your beck and call, so pull him closely. You don't know what he won't do for you.

Yandere! Male! Omnipresent! God x Reincarnated! Deity! gn! Reader

[shitsndgiggs]

Ooh what about marc guiu arranged marriage angst??

LOST IN OBLIGATION - MARC GUIU

Obligations brings people together in the worst way

Marc Guiu x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The rain poured down relentlessly, the droplets striking the ground with a fury that matched the storm brewing in my heart.

I stood before the grand doors of the cathedral, feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

My wedding dress, though beautiful, felt like a shackle binding me to a fate I did not choose. Inside, Marc Guiu, my soon-to-be husband, awaited.

Our marriage had been arranged, a strategic alliance between our families, leaving no room for love or choice.

As the doors swung open, revealing the long aisle lined with crimson roses, a wave of dread washed over me.

Marc stood at the altar, his face a mask of stoicism. His eyes, however, betrayed a flicker of resentment.

We were both prisoners to this arrangement, forced into a union neither of us wanted.

As I walked down the aisle, I tried to recall the moments that had led us here. Our first meeting had been awkward and filled with tension.

Marc, ever the dutiful son, had tried to be kind, but the resentment in his eyes was hard to miss. I couldn’t blame him.

This was not how either of us had imagined our lives.

The ceremony began, the priest's words a distant murmur as my mind swirled with despair. Marc's hand was warm but lifeless as he took mine, the touch devoid of any real connection.

It was a mere formality, a gesture to appease our families.

"Do you, Marc, take Y/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?" the priest asked, his voice a mere formality in this charade.

Marc's jaw clenched, his eyes fixed on a spot above my head. "I do."

"And do you, Y/N, take Marc to be your lawfully wedded husband?"

My throat tightened, my voice barely a whisper. "I do."

With those words, our fates were sealed. The kiss that followed was brief and cold, a mere brushing of lips that carried none of the warmth or passion one would expect on a wedding day.

The applause from our families felt like a mockery.

The reception was a blur of forced smiles and stilted conversations. Marc and I sat at the head table, an invisible wall between us.

He leaned over once, his voice low and filled with bitterness. "Are you okay?"

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. How could I tell him that I felt like I was drowning, that the weight of our circumstances was crushing me?

The evening dragged on, each moment a painful reminder of our shared misery. As the guests finally began to leave, Marc and I made our way to the bridal suite.

The room was lavishly decorated, but it felt like a prison cell.

Marc closed the door behind us, the silence heavy and oppressive. He turned to me, his eyes filled with an emotion I couldn't quite decipher—regret, perhaps, or anger. "I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking the silence. "I never wanted this."

"Neither did I," I whispered, tears threatening to spill. "But here we are."

He nodded, his expression one of helplessness. "Yes, here we are."

We sat on opposite sides of the room, the enormity of our situation sinking in. This was our reality now—a marriage built on duty and obligation, devoid of love or passion. There was no escape, no hope for a different future.

The night stretched on, filled with a silence that was only broken by our futile attempts at conversation.

We talked about everything and nothing, trying to find some common ground, but the chasm between us was too wide, the wounds too deep.

Eventually, Marc moved to the sofa, leaving the bed to me. "Goodnight," he said softly, his voice filled with a resigned sadness.

"Goodnight," I replied, my voice hollow and empty.

As I lay in the dark, tears streamed down my face, each one a testament to the dreams and hopes that had been shattered.

This was not the life I had imagined, not the love I had yearned for.

The first light of dawn crept through the curtains, casting a cold glow over the room. I knew that this was only the beginning of our shared torment.

There would be no happy ending for us, only a lifetime of pretending, enduring the cold, stark reality of an arranged marriage.

[willow-scorp]

Thinking about a Jason Todd priest au in which after he is thrown in the Lazarus pit, tries to kill Tim and then the Lazarus rage calms down rather than become a crime lord he decides to turn to the church and become a Catholic priest. And part of his journey he decides to separate himself from the batfam and vigilantism for his mental health and stuff. The batfam by this point has realized he's alive and tries to get him back, not into the life but just into the family again. He makes a point not to interact with them in their civilian form (doesn't wanna be in the public eye and they are literally public figures) or in their vigilante form. He also doesn't talk to Talia because interacting with the league of assassins is kind of looking for trouble.

The family still wants to contact him tho so they make it a point to attend church every Sunday so that they can sit in the confession booth and talk to him. They don't say things like "hi Jason" because they know he wouldn't like that they used the confession box to talk to him. So they sit there and talk about their day. About what they've been up to, their regrets after he died, how much they love and miss him, and overall try to give him a sense that hes back in the family without having to rejoin that life.

It isn't just the batfam either, Talia comes by every once in a while, she makes a point to check up on her boys (Damian and Jason) because Jason is her son. She stops by and talks about how Damian is doing, how she is doing, asks questions about the church and confesses some of the things going on in the world that she thinks Jason would like to hear.

How do they know if Jason is the one listening? They just do because they other priests don't let out a soft chuckle when they make a joke about their injuries, and they certainly don't let them stay in the box for extra time. And they of course, can recognize Jason's voice from the other end no matter what. (Jason may or may not have slipped the time table to dick in the booth after dick accidentally confessed to being a vigilante to one of the priests and Jason had to convince him that the man was probably mentally ill.)

The first time Tim came to the booth. It was so quiet. For the first few minutes neither could say a word. Tim's thoughts caught in his throat before he finally blerted out everything. He let it spill how much he cared about Jason despite not knowing him. Jason couldn't hold back the tears that day because one of his biggest regrets was attacking a child. A child who may have taken his place but a child none the less. And for that child to not only forgive him but to love him like a brother? That was a lot.

Eventually, either through pushing from other priests, or him missing his family. Jason makes a visit to the manor. Just to see Alfred, maybe get a glimpse of Damian and Steph. The hug he received from dick and bruce is bruising and he doesn't miss the awkward but if happy smile Tim sends his way. Alfred makes his favorite meal. And he listens as Damian muses about his animals and drawings to his big brother like there has been no time apart. Jason sits happily with Alfred (the cat) in his arms as he listens. This becomes a weekly occurrence.

[emeritusemeritus]

All about the girl [Eddie Munson x Reader]

Title: All about the girl.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader {Established relationship}

Timeline: Set after 1984 for the music I’ve referenced. No mention of Stranger Things canon or Vecna.

Summary: Meeting your boyfriend’s family for the first time was never easy but luckily for you, Wayne’s a little tipsy.

Warnings: Drinking. Brief mentions of Eddie’s deadbeat dad, alcoholism. Just a funny little drabble. Reader is mentioned to have D cup breasts but it can be replaced by anything you want. I love Eddie’s awkwardness. Inspired by a Reddit post I saw that instantly gave me Eddie feels.

I will reference Judas Priest every chance I can in Eddie fics, they are the ultimate metal gods and I stand by that.

Wayne Munson was nothing like his deadbeat older brother Al. He was a self proclaimed gruff, grumbling hick but he was responsible, loyal and patient. The only thing he shared with his brother was his taste for alcohol, which started from an early age and had developed the older he got, though the younger Munson brother didn't depend on it nor did he act like a fool under the influence. Wayne had a healthy relationship with alcohol, as opposed to his brother. Responsible, loyal and patient.

Wayne likes a nice ice cold can of beer after a long shift at the plant, sometimes more when he has a rare day off the following day. It never fazed him to drink his well earned beer at the same time as he eats his breakfast, it was a natural consequence of joining the night shift.

Eddie had only seen his uncle drunk a handful of times in his life, never really seeing a stark difference in the man's general demeanour. Sure he was a little more talkative, more prone to droning on about stories of his youth or laying out a full summary of one of his favourite westerns, but he was largely unchanged.

Upon entering the trailer midday on a Wednesday, Eddie pauses, throwing down his worn black backpack beside the door near the two seater table and looked up in surprise when he sees his uncle Wayne sat in his trusted armchair, surrounded by empty cans of beer. An old western is playing on the screen, the telltale noises of horses clopping on dirt and a few too many fake gunshot noises being the obvious key.

"You're back early son," Wayne mumbles, his eyes flicking quickly up to the younger man before falling back to the screen as he takes another swig of his beer. Eddie nods, trying to think of an excuse to his truancy, mumbling something eventually along the lines of free study period, hoping that Wayne wouldn't probe any further. He doesn't. He sits resolute in his chair, hardly moving as his eyes focus on the movie, the only movement being his hand raising the can to his lips as he takes infrequent sips.

Eddie slinks off to his room and focuses on the task at hand, instantly piling up dirty clothes from the floor and around the room, making space as he tidies. He tidies up his desk and the array of stuff on top of his dressers, thrusting some things back into the top drawers that struggle to close due to the age of the cheap wood and all the crap stuffed inside them.

He moves around the amps that litter his room, actually creating a bit of floor space and a walkway as he gathers up records and tapes that have been strewn over the floor, a vague memory appearing of knocking them over a few days prior in his haste to gather his D&D stuff in time for Hellfire.

He even makes the bed. Airing out the blankets and sheets as he goes, trying to make the room just that little bit more presentable.

When he finally stops and takes a step back, looking around at his obvious hard work, he's impressed and a little proud of himself. He turns, noticing the assortment of dirty clothes he'd piled up in the corner and scoops them up in his arms, kicks open the door and walks out towards the washer dryer in the kitchenette of the trailer, dumping the clothes on top of the laundry basket that permanently sits atop the dryer, overflowing as per usual.

Wayne suddenly walks out from behind where Eddie is stood, appearing from the bathroom as he zips back up his old, worn jeans, wiping his freshly washed hands on his denim clad thighs. He whistles low as he shoots a look into the bedroom, seeing that his nephew had cleared up for once.

"If I didn't know any better son, I'd say you had a lady coming round 'ere," Wayne teases gently, looking upon his nephew to see his reaction. He sees Eddie freeze, his eyes widening as he looks like a deer in headlights, causing Wayne's eyebrows to shoot up in surprise. "Good for you son," he mumbles, clapping Eddie on the shoulder as he walks past him to take a seat back down in his trusty armchair. Eddie follows wordlessly, sensing that his uncle isn't done, holding back from asking further questions.

"What's her name? What's she do? What's her bra size?" Wayne asks seriously, cracking open a fresh beer and taking a large swig. Eddie's mouth falls open at his uncle's surprising questions, spluttering and stammering his way through a mumbled reply, only causing Wayne to chuckle at the boy's flustered reaction. Eddie has turned beet red, shuffling in his place as he pushes down thoughts of her breasts, briefly trying to gage what size she would be before mentally he shakes out the thought.

"M'only messing son," he chuckles before frowning as he turns his attention back to the Western on the TV. "You're in my way boy," he grumbles, his voice holding just a smidge of humour as he waves Eddie out of the way.

"Her name's y/n," Eddie says quietly as he steps aside, no longer being an obstruction to his uncle's movie, choosing not to answer the other questions out of embarrassment. Wayne simply nods with a knowing smile tugging at his lips, enjoying busting his nephew’s chops just a little.

It’s a little past six when Eddie’s van steers wildly onto your street, his music turning down only slightly to a moderately appropriate volume as he parks up outside of your house. You rush out, pausing very briefly to kiss your momma on the way before you hop up into the van, greeting your new boyfriend with a sweet and passionate kiss.

“Look I,” Eddie says sheepishly as he pulls out of your street, keeping his eyes on the road. “Wayne’s a little, buzzed, shall we say. Just ignore him if he tries to be funny.” You look at Eddie, even though he’s not directly facing you and give a little questioning frown which he seems to instinctively notice. “He um, he knows you’re coming, caught me cleaning up a little. Guess he thought it was funny to rag on me a little for it.”

“Wait. You cleaned?” You asked, completely ignoring the point of the conversation as you pretend to be overwhelmingly surprised as Eddie’s actions. He shoots you a deadpan glare at your words but you simply smile back at him with a shit eating grin.

“What did he say?”

“Er,” Eddie noticeably pales as he pauses for a moment, hesitant to reply. “He was just winding me up, he asked your name, what you do… your bra size.”

You couldn’t help but burst with laughter at his words, imagining Eddie’s face turning beet red at the words. You wheeze with laughter as Eddie looks on in confusion.

“I’m sorry, that’s great,” you laugh, running your hands over your thighs. “That’s exactly how I’m going to introduce myself to everyone I meet now.”

“Like hell you are,” Eddie says possessively, though the slight smile on his face tells you that he did find it a little humorous now the mortification had gone.

“I don’t know, sounds like a good way to get to know someone to me,” you tease with a smirk, reaching for the volume button on the control to turn up the music just as Metallica’s Creeping Death came on, wanting to hear the distinctive guitar riff a little better. The conversation fell flat as your favourite part of the song came on, the insane guitar solo followed by the ‘die by my hand’ bridge.

Eddie was smiling and chuckling at your obvious excitement as you joined in with the ‘die!’ Chants, your fist in the air as you instinctively headbang to the breakdown in the song, continuing right up until the fade out. He openly laughs as you mimic your air guitar during the last harmonic power chord progression at the end. When the song is over, you both share a wicked smile before a little freak out when Judas Priest’s ‘love bites’ comes on right after, the deep foreboding chimes making your eyes widen significantly in sheer delight. They were undisputedly your favourite band and this track was one of your favourites from defenders of the faith.

Eddie chuckles again, eyes flicking between you and the road and smiles warmly to himself, proud of the fact he’d created this mixtape with you in mind, eternally grateful that you shared his love for metal.

It’s going dark as you pull up to Eddie’s trailer and knowing that Wayne would be home had you feeling suddenly a little nervous. You’d been round to Eddie’s trailer before a few times but Wayne had never been home before, having left for work before you arrived.

“You good princess?” Eddie asks, throwing the van into park and turning to you, sensing your slight nervousness. You smile and nod, trying to hide your slight nervous tension and unbuckle yourself, stepping out of the van to stand facing the trailer, seeing the lamp light pouring out of the windows in the evening darkness.

“All good,” you nod, following him up the steps to the trailer as he busts open the door and gestures for you to step into his home with a flamboyant gesture of his arms and a slight bow, making him look like the strangest, and hottest, doorman you’d ever seen.

“Uncle Wayne,” Eddie says, grabbing his uncle’s attention as he prepares to introduce you both, his voice not hiding his anxiety. The older man stands and moves to you with a slight but pleasant smile on his face. Feeling your confidence coming back, you step forward slightly and extend your hand to him.

“Hi Mr Munson, I’m y/n, I work in retail 3 days a week whilst I’m at school and I’m a D cup,” you say with a deadpan expression.

Wayne instantly bursts with laughter, his face lighting up and shoulders shaking with his laughter, the slight tension in the room instantly falling away. You don’t look at Eddie but you can tell that his shocked expression was suddenly eased as he watches you and Wayne shake hands, seeing his uncle’s expression becoming infinitely more pleasant.

Wayne offers you a seat on the sofa and calls out to Eddie to get a few drinks in as he takes a seat in his armchair, reaching for the television remote to turn off the western that was still playing on the screen.

Eddie goes to the kitchen to grab drinks for everyone and watches on from over the counter to see his girlfriend and uncle getting along like a house on fire. Even he is surprised to see Wayne be so open and warm towards his girl, watching as they chuckle and he’s certain he can hear Wayne giggle once, a noise he’d never heard fall from the man’s lips.

Seeing you so at home in his trailer, getting along so well with his father figure has him feeling a certain way, a warmth spreading in his gut. He was in love.

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[coralcatsea]

Brief Thoughts on Some Ships:

USUK: They're best friends who are obsessed with each other and always looking for excuses to hang out. They tend to info dump all over the other. They're stubborn, kind of petty, very protective, and have a hard time admitting how much they desire the other's company, praise, and attention, but they're working on it because they care deeply about the other. They're in love, your honour.

PrUK: One of the best slept on England ships. Two wild guys that go out to loud punk rock concerts and have drinks together, then quietly recharge at home (e.g. writing in their journals, reading fairy tales, and sewing). Fun personality combination? Check. History together? Check. Canon interactions? Check. Though they really could still use MORE canon moments, given how much potential they have. Pirate x priest with these two is always excellent.

EngBela: The sexy Addams Family-esque couple who live in an elegant gothic mansion and pass time indulging in their hobbies, such as fortune telling, talking to ghosts, singing, and listening to rock music.

FrUK: Used to be an OTP, now I mainly like them as close platonic frenemies. Romantically, it's better in theory than in practice – that is to say, it has potential, but I'm not a fan of most depictions. Also, nyo FrUK is superior.

AmeBela: The dorky hero and goth girl. They confused and exhausted each other at first, but eventually developed an understanding and started getting along pretty well. He can fix her. She can make him worse. Alfred tries to encourage Natalya to form her own identity away from Ivan. Natalya encourages Alfred's suppressed yandere tendencies. She pegs him.

Romerica: They bond over sharing their cultures with each other. Alfred loves Lovino's food. Living in America provided all sorts of new ingredients for Lovino to experiment with in cooking, and he got to be good at something without Feli taking the attention away from him. Lovino is actually a fan of some of Alfred's home cooking as well. They both enjoy singing and dancing, and are fans of Dean Martin, Frank Sinatra, and Bobby Darin.

EngGer: They're both responsible and serious...until Arthur's wild side comes out and he starts teasing and playing games with Ludwig's head. Ludwig is socially awkward and a strict rule-follower, which Arthur can relate to, but he's better at being social and having fun than Ludwig, so he can help him loosen up – although in the bedroom, Arthur is more than happy with letting Ludwig be a strict rule follower. Ludwig is very obedient. Arthur trained him nicely.

AmeLiet: They're really domestic and get along well most of the time. They're comfortable enough that they can confide pretty easily in each other. Alfred is pretty protective of Tolys, particularly when it comes to Ivan. He doesn't like the way Ivan treated him and is quick to jump to his defence whenever possible. Additionally, Alfred is 'in love with the way Tolys undresses'. That's not questionable at all.

Part 2

[loveephia]

SUNFLOWER | kita shinsuke

content: (🦷) tooth-rotting fluff, high school (from first years) to adult life with kita, real life scenarios used, marriage toward the end, mildly inspired by "the lady, or the tiger?"

⚠ warning/s: none.

note: i heavily suggest you listen to pasilyo by sun-kissed lola while reading.

kita shinsuke can still remember the day he met you. it was on a hot summer day in inarizaki, and the class had just finished planting their seeds at the field for a project. as a reward for their hard work, the teacher had carried out a cooler full of different flavored popsicles. the class hurriedly washed their hands in the outdoor sink and went to go grab themselves one. kita was one of the only people who didn't rush. instead, he peacefully and thoroughly washed the dirt off his hands.

he felt a presence nearby, and as curiousity got the best of him, he looked around only to see that by the corner of the hallway, peeked a girl from the same year as him; you.

a quick spark was what kita felt the moment you two made eye contact, and it looks like you felt it too, judging by the way you hesitated to make your way over to the sink.

you carefully walked on the tiles so as to not slip from the puddles of water. you went to the opposite side of kita and washed your hands, not daring to utter a word.

in every breath kita took, he only looked at you.

"what did you plant?" you ask, voice fearful for the awkward tension to worsen, but your desire to know kita was stronger. he looks taken aback, not expecting you to talk to actually talk to him. "a sunflower."

like the name, it is a flower that grows only to face the sun. they are his grandma yumi's favourite. not only are they a delight to plant, but oh, does she love to snack on the seeds as well. kita couldn't help but come to love the flower, too.

"oh, i planted the same thing!" you exclaimed, thankful to find someone with the same taste in flowers as you. kita notices a shift in your demeanor. you're relaxed now. he smiles softly.

as time went by, you and kita had grown close. you became a friend, a really dear one at that. he treasured you. as sensitive as you can be, kita was always there to hear your cries. he took care of you as you took care of him.

kita can still remember the day he fell for you, too. it was only until the third year that he realized how deeply he did so.

after the long break has come to an end, he sees you at the inarizaki entrance. the sun bounced off of your silky hair, and the shine made your eyes have a glass-like effect. you were glowing. simply put, it was enough to make kita's heart race. "oh, shin! you're finally here!" you cheerfully said, rushing over to greet the boy with such enthusiasm.

his eyes land on your ID. y/n l/n.

kita hopes that one day, he will be able to share his surname with you.

he likes to think that you are the sun; whom he looks forward to seeing every morning. you're such a bright girl; so much so that you've blinded him with your charm. how dare you do such a thing?

he is the sunflower. and like the sunflower he's planted in his first year, his feelings bloomed.

kita remembered those days in his youth, as they are dear memories that he holds close to his heart.

and now, kita will never forget today as he didn't with the former.

you with your flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes of triumph; almost hasty to walk down the aisle as the radiant white dress dragged behind you beautifully. truly an incomparable sight. kita's whole being, so proud and glad that he couldn't help but let his eyes well up with salty tears.

the priest advances the couple and makes you both husband and wife before bare witnesses. the joyous shouts from both families had been blurred out, and so did the wild ringing of the clanging church bells. kita could only focus on you; his sun, his wife, and his everything.

you both had walked away together upon the path of petals, followed by the tremendous cheers of the hilarious multitude.

his favorite prayer, kept dear and true every day; is you.

© lowercase intended | loveephia

[damiansgoodgirll]

heres something with damian: him and reader getting stranded in the airport due to a snowstorm and she cuddles up shyly with him

damian priest x reader

snow outside

you couldn’t believe your flight was getting delayed. well you actually could since there was a snowstorm outside but you really wanted to be home for the weekend and see your family that not even the end of world was going to stop you.

but the snow was increasing and a lot of flights got cancelled and you were worried about your flight too.

“you okay?” damian asked you when he sat next to you.

you just finished to film raw and even if you were supposed to be on different flights, you found yourselves stuck at the airport together.

“my flight is probably getting cancelled…” you whispered, trying everything you could to not to cry.

“mine too…i bet it’s sunny and cold in orlando tho…” he joked and you slightly smiled “are you going back home for a few days?” he asked while sitting next to you.

“i was supposed to before the flight got a four hours delay…” you said while reading all the delays on the screen.

“great…mine just got cancelled…” he said a little annoyed.

“what if i won’t be able to see my family?” you asked him and he could tell you were probably going to cry in any minute.

“hey…come here…” he held you closer “it’s not your fault and your family knows this…it’s just this freaking weather and the fact that we are in canada…and you gotta fly to vegas…i’m pretty sure it’s hot and sunny down there” he joked making you chuckled a little bit “i know how much this means to you…and i’m sure that you’ll see them very soon…” he said “…well, probably not tomorrow since your flight just got cancelled too”

“what?” you almost screamed in exasperation.

“hey hey calm down…take a deep breath for me hermosa…in and out…” damian saw how agitated you were and he was hurting for you. he knew how much you cared for your family and with the fact that you lived in orlando and they were in vegas, he knew you saw them not very often, plus with you being drafted from nxt to raw your life got busier and busier.

“i should call my mom and let her know i’m not visiting them this weekend…she was so excited when i called her yesterday…”

“i know hermosa…i’m so sorry…” he hugged you while you were typing your mum’s number. after calling her and explaining what was happening you felt a little bit more relaxed. you knew she wouldn’t be mad and that she would understand, you were just upset you couldn’t be there for her and your dad.

“it’s pretty cold outside…and here too…” you whispered trying to warm your hands a little bit.

thankfully damian was still hugging you so he didn’t make it awkward when his arm moved closer to your body to keep you closer to his bigger one.

he was cold too but he couldn’t help feeling all warm inside by having you so close.

there was a certain feeling between the two of you. you liked him more than a friend but you never understood his intentions. he was kind with you but he was kind with everyone so that didn’t make it special. he never showed anything that would make it seems like he was interest in you but right now, having him so close to you made you daydream about the relationship you could have.

“what if we share a hotel room?” he asked, waking you from your dream.

“what?”

“i mean…you’re clearly about to fall asleep here and even if i don’t mind you sleeping on me, this would be a very uncomfortable position for you to sleep and it’s clearly too cold here. plus all these people who’s flights been cancelled won’t stop making noise and it’s getting to crowded for my liking…we won’t be able to fly until tomorrow, hopefully the snow stops…and i’d rather sleep on a comfortable bed in a cozy room than staying here…” he said and honestly you were okay with everything he said. you knew there was the airport hotel just a few miles away and that the taxis were still going so before it was too late you both took the opportunity and got to the hotel.

damian got the room and - of course - there was just a bed. you pretended you didn’t care but inside you were the happiest person on earth.

you changed while he took a quick shower and both jumped into bed.

“dam…” you whispered.

“mh?” he turned his head just to see you.

“can you turn the tv on please? i - i can’t fall asleep without the sound…if it bothers you i can try and sleep-…” he didn’t even let you finish that the tv was on “thank you…”

“can i ask you why?” he was curious.

“i started doing it when i started living alone…i’ve always been scared of staying alone at night so the tv helped me calm…”

“but you’re not alone tonight” he almost teased.

“i know it’s just…it helps me you know?” you said shyly.

he loved how you just opened up to him and he honestly wanted to know every single detail of your life but he saw how you were about to fall asleep.

“i know…” he smiled “good night princesa…” he whispered while you closed your eyes. he fell asleep dreaming of more moments like this.

[padawansuggest]

Din: *walking past a protester on a street corner only to stop when he reads their sign* huh.

Protester: *holding a sign that says ‘Just Be Glad Your Mom Isn’t A Lesbian’* Hi. How are you today?

Din: …confused. Is this like a ‘I was raised by a lesbian and she was horrible, thing, or implying that lesbians can’t have children so if their mom was gay they wouldn’t exist, thing?

Protester: :/…

Din: I mean. Because. I was raised by a lesbian. And she’s literally amazing but also disowned me for a bit and now is dating my bff but like she only disowned me for cultural reasons so it wasn’t cause she was gay but she IS fucking my bff so that’s awkward but now she’s reinstated my family status and keeps giving my kid super expensive gifts. So. I mean. I /get it/.

Protester: …I should have used the god hates fags sign…

Din: My lesbian mom is actually a priest so I don’t think that counts either. Also I’m gay and wearing pure Beskar and will punch you maybe???

Protester: *starts packing up their stuff* I have to go. I have a meeting.

Din: I hope it’s with a lesbian priest.

[daydreamtofiction]

Thou Shalt Not Covet // 11: Communion

Contents | Part 10 | First Person Version [AO3]

Summary: (Priest!Benedict x Female Reader) With fresh starts and awkward family dinners, things seem to be changing for Ellis.

Word Count: 5.6K

Warnings: Strong language, irreverence, dark humour, sexual references, discussions of death and loss. Readers must be 18+

You could hear them through your bedroom door; Gina's voice fluctuating between hushed indignation and histrionic sobbing, while Alfie gave little in return besides the occasional mumble. You wondered about all the times you'd heard them talking before; the sudden silence when you'd enter a room, the laughing and teasing you never thought to question. Had they been talking about you in those moments? Whispering declarations of desire to one another and finding thrill in the risk of being caught?

You heard a door slam shut, their voices fading to a distant drone as you zipped up your jeans and pulled on a t-shirt Gina was always trying to steal. You never understood why she wanted it so much; it was plain, boring, the neckline beginning to fray on one side. But maybe it wasn't about the t-shirt at all. Maybe the only reason she wanted it was because it belonged to you.

You brushed the wet hair out of your face with your hands, the act instantly transporting you back to last night; how it felt to rake your fingers through Father Benedict's rain-sodden curls. You shivered, shaking it away quickly before moving around the room, scooping up whatever you could and dumping it into a large gym bag on the bed. 

The process felt mechanical, void of any grief or attachment to the possessions that anchored you to this place. You zipped up the bag and looked around at the rest of your things; mementos from times you no longer cared to remember, photographs of people you never truly knew, wallpaper you'd been so excited to put up and a bed you'd shared with someone who wasted three years of your life. 

You stepped into a pair of old, worn-in trainers, the leather so soft and slackened that you didn't even have to untie the laces anymore. Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you made your way to the door, turning the handle and pushing it slowly in an attempt to stop it from creaking. 

You successfully made it to the top of the stairs before the door behind you swung open, making you huff in defeat. 

"So that's it?" asked Alfie with a slight lisp, his mouth swollen from Father Benedict's punch. "You're just off, then?" 

You turned to look up at him. "What else were you expecting? Even if Gina hadn't kicked me out, do you really think I'd want to stay here?"

he shook his head. "It's like you don't care." 

"Oh, well I'm sorry for not reacting to you cheating on me in a way you find acceptable." 

"I don't mean- I just- You haven't even given me a chance to explain-"

"I have no interest in hearing you try to justify this, Alfie. If you and Gina wanted to be together, you could've just said so instead of doing this to me." 

"But it's not like that between me and G." 

"Not like that? I walked in on it!" 

"I mean I don't want to be with her! You were pulling away and she was... there. It was a moment of weakness that just spiralled-"

Gina emerged from the room, elbowing Alfie as she stormed past him, mascara like ink blots across her cheeks. 

He looked over at her as she marched into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her, then back down to you. 

"How many times?" you asked. 

He rolled his eyes. 

"Go on, how many moments of weakness are we talking?" 

He dropped his head, refusing to answer. 

You nodded, pressing your tongue to the inside of your cheek. "Can you at least tell me... Were you safe?" 

"Yes," he replied weakly. 

"Condoms?" 

"Yes." 

"Every single time?" 

"Yes." 

"Okay. Well thanks for that, at least." 

You turned, hoisting the bag back up your shoulder and continuing down the stairs. 

"So you can go and let Father Bellend know he's not going to catch anything from you," he muttered. 

You stopped, shuddering at the realisation that you'd told him; the words you'd spat at him like venom now trickling down your spine. 

"I just said that to piss you off," you said. 

"Wait, so you didn't sleep with him?" 

"No!" You hoped you were convincing, unable to tell beneath the bruises and swelling if he was buying it. "How insecure do you have to be to feel threatened by a priest?" 

"The same priest who did this?" He pointed to his face. 

"You deserved it." 

You finally made it down to the bottom of the staircase, glancing over your shoulder to see him still standing at the top. 

"D'you know, Mara never liked you," you began. "I always thought she was just being a bitch, judgemental, too stuck up to give you a chance. But it turns out she was the only one who could see right through you."

Daylight clung to the horizon, casting a golden hue across a blushing sky. The days since you'd left Gina's house had grown warmer, brighter, with mild breezes and longer evenings, as though the earth itself was rejoicing in your newfound freedom. 

You stepped off the bus with a sigh, thankful to escape the humid air of squashed passengers and closed windows. The walk to your mother's house was short, so you made the effort to slow your pace, making it last that little bit longer to steal solace wherever you could get it, even in the five minutes between bus stop and front door. 

She'd been surprisingly tactful about the whole thing, welcoming you back when you turned up on her doorstep two nights earlier, making up the bed in your old room and leaving you to settle in without prying; no questions, no judgement, no classic mum-isms you'd come to expect from her. Maybe she was secretly happy to have a fledgling back in her empty nest, careful not to do anything that may make you fly away. 

You reached the house as a car pulled up outside, its large tyres mounting the kerb with a gentle bounce. You raised your hand in a subtle wave as you made your way to the front door, rummaging for your keys inside your large, overfilled tote. 

"Did you just get off work?" Mara called out as she climbed out of the passenger side. 

You nodded, watching as she made her way around the back of the car. She didn't seem surprised to see you there, which meant your mother had told her. The thought made you groan internally.

"What are you doing here?" you asked. 

"Nice to see you too," said Nathan with a slight laugh as he emerged from the car. 

"Dinner," said Mara, as though it should have been obvious. 

She unclipped Soleil from her abundance of safety straps and seat belts, before hoisting her onto her hip and making her way up the path to meet you.

"How was work?" she asked.

"Eh." You shrugged, finally pulling out your keys. "Spent the day staring at pictures of babies in silly outfits."

"Sounds cute." 

"That's one word for it." 

The front door opened straight into a spacious living room. Perfectly tidy as always; cushions plumped, surfaces dusted, vacuum lines still visible in the rug. Since the divorce, your mother had taken to redecorating every few years. You always assumed it was a way of erasing any evidence that your father once lived there, but you were starting to think she just got bored easily. Right now, she was fond of the colour silver; opting for glittery wallpaper, velvet curtains and a large mirrored coffee table in the centre of the room. It was headache-inducing, yet there was something oddly comforting about it at the same time. 

"Oh, she mustn't be back yet," said Mara. 

"Back from where?" you replied as you hung your bag over the banister. 

"She said she was going to the church to pick up all the stuff." 

"The church?" 

"Well, the pub next door to it." 

"Oh." You swallowed, your mouth turning weirdly dry. "What stuff?" 

"Banners, bunting, that big balloon arch. We didn't have time to take it all down after the christening on Sunday so they stuck it in the back for us." 

"Ah." You gave a distracted nod and made your way across the room. 

"Where are you going?" 

"I just need a drink." 

You walked into the kitchen, pulling a glass from the cupboard and filling it with water. The door opened behind you as you gulped it down. You wiped your mouth and glanced over your shoulder, forcing a bright smile that didn't quite reach your eyes. 

"So," said Mara, lifting the lid off the slow cooker and glancing inside. "Mum said you're staying here for a little while...?" 

"Mhm." 

She paused, leaning back against the counter with folded arms as she waited for you to elaborate. Instead you stood there quietly, rolling the cold glass over your warm cheek. 

"Are you going to tell me what happened?" she pressed.

"I moved out," you replied simply. 

She lowered her head slightly, staring at you beneath a heavy brow.

"What?"

She parted her lips to speak, but a noise from the living room caught her attention; the front door opening and closing, your mother's voice singing a cheerful greeting.

She gave you another dubious look. "You're going to tell me what happened."

You rolled your eyes and put the glass in the sink before reluctantly following behind her.

"So this... dinner thing, do you do this regularly then?" you asked.

"Maybe a couple of times a month." 

"Why have you never invited me?" 

"Would you come if we did?" 

"Probably not." 

"Well there you go."

Mara stopped suddenly in the doorway, making you bump clumsily into her back. You were ready for her to berate you for it, tell you to watch where you were going. But instead she gave a high-pitched 'oh', reaching back to grip your arm.

You furrowed your brow and peered over her shoulder into the living room, the air immediately evaporating from your chest as your gaze locked on a set of glacial eyes. 

He was carrying a large plastic storage bin, the weight of it evident in the whitening of his knuckles as he hauled it through the door. The lid lifted slightly, a single yellow balloon escaping and rising to the ceiling. 

"Father," said Mara, confusion laced in her cheery tone. "Well this is a surprise." 

"Hello," he said. "Nice to see you all again." 

You remained in the doorway of the kitchen, eyes wide, watching as your mother directed him to put the box on the floor. He was stiff in his movements, his gaze darting to you every few moments, the discomfort clear on his face. 

"You're a godsend," said your mother. "Do you mind helping me with the last few bits?" 

"Of course not." He smiled, making his way back outside.

"I'll do it, mum," you said quickly, hurrying across the room. "You sit down." 

"Oh, okay, thanks love." 

You wiped your palms on your trousers as you rushed down the path, catching up with him as he opened the boot of his car. Another balloon escaped, he caught it before it floated away, stuffing it back inside a bin bag and twisting it closed. 

"What are you doing here?" you hissed, leaning in and grabbing a box filled with table centrepieces. 

"I ran into her outside the church," he replied. "She needed help with all this stuff, I couldn't just leave her to struggle." 

"Yes you could." 

He rolled his eyes. "Relax, you haven't told them anything, have you?" 

"Of course not." 

"Then it's fine. Help me get this inside and then I'll leave." 

You gathered the rest of the decorations. He reached up to close the boot, stopping to look down at you. 

"Are you okay?" he asked. "You haven't text, so I assume everything was alright after I left the other day?" 

"I haven't paid my phone bill, remember?" 

He breathed out a laugh, shaking his head softly. 

"But no, it was fine," you sighed. "I said a few things, packed and came here. Uneventful, all things considered." 

He nodded and closed the boot with a heavy slam, hoisting an obnoxiously large display of balloons and flowers over his shoulder. 

"How's your hand?" you asked. 

He laughed again, looking down at the faint bruising on his knuckles. "It's fine. Was worth it." 

You glanced up at him, eyes falling immediately to the slight smirk across his lips; a smirk that held entirely new meaning now. You'd kissed those lips, felt them on your skin. Those lips had tasted you, parted to let out the most divine moans. 

He arched an eyebrow. "Ellis," he whispered sternly. "Stop looking at me like that." 

It sounded like a reprimand, but you knew it was more of a warning; a reminder that nothing innocent ever came from those looks.

You conceded, clearing your throat and making your way back into the house.

"Why don't you stay for dinner?" 

This was it. Your punishment from the heavens.

Father Benedict let out an appreciative sigh. "Oh, no, I-"

"Come on, I insist," said your mother. "You came all this way to help me, it's only fair." 

You pinched the bridge of your nose.

"Consider it a thank you, especially after everything you did getting the christening sorted so quickly." 

"I er..." he blew out a long breath. "I really don't want to impose-"

"Nonsense! Go on, sit down."

She gestured towards the dining room before disappearing into the kitchen. Mara waited until she was gone before letting out a laugh, turning to Father Benedict with an apologetic smile. 

The silver theme had bled into the dining room; sparkles and mirrors and crushed velvet cushions on each chair. You wandered around the table, stopping at Cain's chair and making an elaborate sidestep to avoid it. Mara rolled her eyes at you, sitting down with Soleil in her arms as Nathan pulled up a chair beside her. You slumped into your seat, pressing your lips together firmly as Father Benedict sat down directly opposite you. 

"She's hungry," Mara muttered, reaching to open her blouse. "You don't mind do you, Father? It's not offensive or anything?" 

You rubbed your eyes. Ah yes, just what this nightmare of a situation was missing, you thought, my sister's left tit. 

"No, not at all," he said politely. "I think it's beautiful. The breastfeeding, I mean, not your... erm..." 

"Jesus Christ," you mumbled under your breath. 

Your mother pushed the door open with her hip, walking in and placing a large pot in the centre of the table. "Beef stew, help yourselves. Father, can I get you anything?" 

He shook his head. "No, I'm good, thank you." 

"Are you sure? Anything? Condiments? Extra bread? Something different to drink?" 

"Just sit down, mum," said Mara. "Leave the poor man alone." 

She raised her hands in surrender and sat down at the head of the table.

"Sorry about her," Mara added, turning to Father Benedict. "I think she's got a bit of a crush on you." 

He chuckled, and you shuddered at the thought. 

"He's a handsome man, Mara." She turned to Nathan. "Isn't he." 

"I couldn't possibly comment," he replied. 

Everyone laughed, even your own face broke with a smile. 

It was astonishing, how one person could be so charming, so charismatic and endearing that everyone he came into contact with was left in awe of him. And it was you he'd chosen. This man, who was so delicious that the flavour of him lingered in the mouths of people who'd barely had a taste, had wanted you, worshipped you, fantasised about you. 

You. 

Everyone made smalltalk as they ate, the sound of cutlery clinking against dishes filling the brief silences between conversation. You'd never been good at smalltalk. But then again, you'd never been particularly good at 'big talk' either; preferring to melt into the background, nibbling on a piece of bread as you took in the mundanity of everyday chatter around you.

"So go on then, why've you moved back home?" said Mara, bringing you back into focus. 

You glared at her, pausing for a moment before shrugging. "I broke up with Alfie."

 "After the christening?" 

"Mhm." 

"What happened?" 

You picked up your spoon and swirled it in your stew, pushing a chunk of potato around the bowl as you spoke. "Caught him cheating on me... With Gina." 

Your mother gasped, Nathan's eyes widened in shock. 

"That fucker," Mara spat.

"Mara," said your mother, nodding towards Father Benedict.

"Sorry," she said. 

"It's alright," he replied. "He does sound like a fucker." 

Everyone laughed quietly, easing the tension around the table. 

You exchanged brief but intense eye contact with him. He turned his head quickly, exposing the edge of a love bite from beneath the collar of his jumper. You bit your lip, holding back a smile before spooning stew into your mouth.

"So yeah," you mumbled as you chewed. "It is what it is." 

Mara's eyes narrowed. You could tell she was sceptical, trying to work out why you weren't more upset. Her gaze darted between you and Father Benedict before she relaxed back into her chair. 

"Gina text me that night asking if you were at mine," she said. 

"Yeah, I walked out after I caught them." 

"Where did you go?" 

"A friend's. So mum, I was wondering if I'd be okay to stay until I sort out a place to live." 

"Of course," she said. 

"What friend?" Mara pressed. 

"Does it matter?" you replied. "Why did Gina say I'd left?" 

"She didn't. Conveniently left that part out. Why did you go to a friend's house and not come to mine?"

You shrugged. "Because we don't do that." 

"What?"

"Come to each other for things."

"You can come to me for things."

You furrowed your brow in confusion. "Wh-"

"How are you going to move everything out of the house?" asked your mother.

"I've asked Dad if he can drive me over in his van at the weekend."

"God this is just awful." She placed her head in her hands. "What are you going to do, Ellis? You've got no money."

"Cheers, mum."

"And I've not got the funds to help you get a place of your own. Do you think your dad and Nicola could help?"

"I don't- no, I'm- I'll work something out."

"Mum," said Mara. "You're embarrassing her in front of the clergyman."

Father Benedict dropped his head with an awkward laugh. "It's fine. This is nothing compared to some of the things I've heard in this job." 

"Ooh like what?" your mother leaned closer. 

"If you can think of it, someone's probably confessed it to me." 

"Wow." She rested her cheek on her fist, studying his face. "Is that why you wanted to be a priest? All the gossip?"

He cleared his throat and set his spoon on the edge of his bowl. "Well, actually, I er... I had a brother who passed away-"

She gasped. "Oh gosh, I'm so sorry. You know, the girls lost a brother as well. Cain, my eldest. He was only twenty-four."

Mara shuffled uncomfortably in her seat. 

"How did he go?" your mother continued. "If you don't mind me asking?" 

"Oh, he... He had substance abuse issues," he replied. "Sorted himself out towards the end though, got clean. But by that point he'd already done so much damage, his body just... gave out." 

You felt a pang in your chest, his voice so soft and sincere you could almost hear the heartbreak. 

"I'm sorry." She reached over and placed a hand on his for a moment, her fingers resting over the bruises on his knuckles.

He smiled, seemingly grateful for the comfort. "He was religious towards the end. It made me start looking at my own faith after he passed." 

She nodded. "Y'know when we first lost Cain, I contemplated going to church a few times. But the way he died, it was so... brutal. I couldn't fathom a god would let that happen-"

"Mum," Mara groaned, almost pleading for her to stop. 

"Ellis was thirteen," she continued obliviously. "Decided she wanted to do gymnastics, but the place was so far away she wouldn't be able to make it there after school unless someone drove her."

Mara let out a huff before handing the baby to Nathan. "She's full, I'll be back in a minute." 

You watched as she rose from the table, walking out as your mother continued to speak. 

"Mara was the one who usually took her, but she was busy on this particular day so Cain did it instead. Anyway, on their way home he lost control of the car. The pair of them were in terrible shape. They had to cut you out from the roof, didn't they Ellis." 

You exhaled a long, slow breath. 

"Obviously she survived, thank god. But Cain wasn't wearing his seatbelt." 

"Gosh, I'm so sorry," said Father Benedict. 

You stood up suddenly, brushing your hair out of your face. "I'm going to get another drink." 

Mara was stood in the kitchen, staring out of the window at the darkening sky, tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek. You closed the door behind you and let out a sigh.

"Is she still going on about it?" she asked, eyes fixed on the window.

"Mhm." 

"Fuck sake," she whispered. "She just talks about it fucking constantly. Anyone who'll listen. The poor guy only came to help with decorations and now she's dumping all the family trauma on him." 

"He doesn't mind. He's good with this kind of stuff, always knows what to say." 

She finally looked at you. "What did you mean when you said we don't come to each other for things?"

You crossed your arms over your chest and shrugged. "I don't know. We just... don't. Not like proper sisters."

"Proper sisters?"

"You know what I mean. Sisters who aren't nine years apart. Who don't have a huge elephant following them into every room."

She returned to looking out of the window. 

You licked your lips awkwardly before making your way towards the fridge. "After Cain died-"

"Ellis," she groaned. 

"Just let me... After Cain died, I snuck into your room a few times when you were out and read your diary." 

She spun around. "You did what? Why?"

"Honestly? I always felt like you wished it would've been me instead of him. But I knew you'd never actually say that out loud. So I'd skim through looking for my name to see if you wrote it there instead."

She stood there, speechless, lips parted in stunned silence. "You actually thought I wished you'd died in that car?" 

"If it meant he got to walk away from it instead-"

"Well that's not true. Of course it's not fucking true. I- well, let's get one thing straight, if we're wishing for stuff I'd have just wished for no one to die."

"Fair."

"But no. Ellis, Jesus Christ, no. I know I've not been the best sister in the world, but bad enough for you to think I wished you weren't here? Really?"

"Well I don't think that anymore. But it's hard, I mean, why would I go to you for things when I spent the majority of my life feeling like you resented me?" 

Her shoulders slumped, a defeated breath leaving her. 

"Do you know, I think it actually bothered me more that you just never wrote about me at all," you said. "Ever."

"There isn't enough paper and ink in the world, that's why." 

You laughed softly, turning to pour yourself a drink.

"Can we just get rid of the elephant?" she asked.

"Hm?" 

"Tell it to fuck off. Leave us alone." 

You turned back to face her, thinking for a moment before nodding. "Yeah. I'm not sure how you tell an elephant to fuck off, but we can give it a go."

"Okay. Good." She paused. "Do we hug now or something?" 

"I'm not really a hugger." 

"Thank god, neither am I." 

You took a large gulp of your drink. She watched you quietly, eyes burning into you. 

"Are you really alright? About Alfie and Gina?" 

"Yeah. I actually am. I think I finally understand what people mean when they say it feels like a weight's been lifted off them. I feel lighter." 

She smiled. 

"We should probably go back in," you said. 

"Yeah. Get back to Mr tall dark and handsome." 

"Mara." 

"What?" she laughed. "Do you know he hasn't stopped looking at you all night?" 

"I think he just feels awkward." 

"Hm." 

"He's a priest. Even if... I don't know, there's just- It's not..."  "Who knows, maybe he's secretly well up for it."

You laughed. "Yeah, maybe." 

She walked towards the door. You followed behind, stopping when she turned to whisper. 

"Just do me a favour, whatever you do, don't get pregnant. Your hair falls out, you can't cough without pissing yourself and your sex life goes down the drain."

"Well if you're pissing yourself all the time, it's no wonder."

She glared at you, but it only lasted a moment before a smile began to emerge.

Mara warned you not to get pregnant. And if that wasn't caution enough, watching forty nine-year-olds running wild around a church would definitely do it. They were loud, boisterous, ignoring their exhausted parents as they bounced from pew to pew. 

A headache was taking root behind your eyes, every screeching voice and thud of little feet making it worse. You were beginning to think June lied when she said she was visiting her niece in Wales, maybe she just wanted to avoid doing this. 

You stood near the doors of the chapel, handing out pens and taking attendance as each family arrived. Father Benedict walked up and down the aisle, welcoming them with smiles and high-fives, asking parents to spread out, though not many seemed to listen. 

You kept glancing over your shoulder at him, as though you couldn't help but steal a quick peek whenever his back was turned. He was wearing a pair of black trousers and a snug-fitting fleece jacket, his white collar peeking out of the top. It had been four days since the night you spent together, yet the look on his face when you took that collar off was as fresh as the moment it happened, even down to the popping sound it made as you tugged it away from his neck. 

He checked his watch before turning on his heels, strolling leisurely towards you. 

"How are you getting on?" he asked, glancing down at the attendance sheet in your hands.

"Just making a mental note to take my contraception later," you replied, looking around as a group of kids chased each other from one side of the chapel to the other. 

He laughed. "They're fine when you know how to handle them. Watch." 

He turned around and cupped his hands around his mouth, his voice loud and commanding, echoing in the steepled roof. "Okay everyone! I'm going to begin, so I want children sat with their parents please!" 

The children immediately fell into order, their ruckus fading to a quiet hum as they rushed to sit down.

You bit your lip; the way he could control a room with nothing but his voice stirring something deep inside you. He walked down the aisle to the altar and turned to face them all, pushing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"Welcome, everyone. Thank you very much, as always, for coming. I know these preparation sessions can be a bit of a pain when we're all so busy, but it is so important for the children to be attending, especially as their first holy communion is just around the corner." 

'What's that?" a young boy with a freckled nose asked, pointing to a small brass font on the wall.

"Holy water," you replied, chin resting on your fist as you sat at the back of the chapel. 

"What's that?" 

"A sanctuary lamp." 

"What about that over there?" 

"A hymn book." 

"And what's that?" 

"That's just a radiator." 

"Oh." 

"Bradley," his mother shouted. "Come on, leave the lady alone." 

It was the longest hour of your life. Father Benedict had sent the children on a scavenger hunt around the church, challenging them to tick off as many items as they could find. But for some reason, most of them were more fascinated with you. They came over in waves, small groups of curious eyes asking you random questions, touching your things or trying to trick you into identifying everything for them. 

You checked your phone. Ten minutes. Just ten more minutes. 

"What's your name?" a soft, delicate voice asked. 

You looked up to see a small waif of a girl standing next to you, the biggest brown eyes you'd ever seen gazing at you in wonder. 

"Ellis," you replied. 

"I'm Dot." 

"Dot?" 

"Mhm." She nodded, hugging her work book close to her chest. "Are you Father Benedict's wife?"

You gave a soft laugh. "No, just a helper." 

"Oh okay." She paused, looking down at her feet. "I think you're really pretty," she finally said. 

Your mouth fell open slightly; the compliment somehow meaning more coming from a child. 

"Thank you. I think you're really pretty too." 

She smiled, a set of deep dimples forming in her cheeks before skipping away. 

Maybe a kid or two wouldn't be so bad, you thought. No, god no, Ellis. Remember what Mara said about peeing yourself all the time. 

The session ended ten minutes late. You sighed as the final few families left, your headache already beginning to ease in the newfound silence. You closed the doors, leaning back against them dramatically for a moment.

"You survived!" Father Benedict's voice echoed across the vast, empty space. 

"Next time I volunteer myself for something, remind me of tonight," you called back.

He chuckled, taking a set of keys from his pocket. "Can you lock those doors for me?" 

You nodded before letting out a pathetic shriek as the keys came soaring through the air towards you. When they landed at your feet, you looked up to see him laughing, covering his mouth with his hand.

"What about me makes you think I'd be good at catching?" you shouted. 

He continued to laugh, picking up a box and disappearing into the back. 

It was eerie being the only person in a church; the slightest movements seeming to echo, every piece of art staring directly at you. You locked the doors and began cleaning up, weaving through the pews collecting pens and forgotten booklets, the occasional sweet wrapper. 

You wandered down towards Father Benedict's office, tapping your knuckles against the open door and stepping inside. 

"Some left over booklets," you said. 

He was crouched at a small filing cabinet, fanning his fingers through a drawer of papers. "Oh, thanks," he said, glancing over his shoulder at you. "Just throw them on the desk." 

You walked over and threw them down as instructed, hovering for a moment, like something inside you didn't want to leave. 

"A little girl thought I was your wife," you said with a slight smirk. 

He stood up, brushing the stray curls out of his eyes. "Really? That's quite cute actually." 

"Mm. She called me pretty and I nearly cried." 

He smiled, walking over to the desk. "She's not wrong." 

You kept your eyes on him, watching his hands as they fanned out the booklets, his jaw clenching as he peered down at them. 

"Anything else you want me to do?" you asked. 

He presses his lips together in thought. "No, I think that's everything. You're relieved from duty."

"Thank god." 

"I appreciate you helping out tonight. I know it's a bit... awkward." 

"Is it?" 

"Well it's the first time we've been alone together since..." 

You looked around the office, setting your sights on the couch for a moment before returning to him. 

The corner of his mouth twitched. "Don't even think about it." 

"I didn't say anything." 

He moved slightly closer, lowering his voice. "Ellis, it is taking everything in me to behave myself." 

You gazed up at him, a thousand comebacks flitting through your mind. But in the end, you chose to yield, nodding gently and stepping away. "I'll get going then."

You left the office, pulling the door closed behind you with a disappointed huff. It was harder, somehow, to leave empty handed after knowing what it felt like to get every last piece of him. But you hadn't come here for that; you came to help, and now it was time to go. 

"Fuck sake," you whispered, halting halfway down the hall when you realised the keys were still in your pocket.

You turned around to begin walking back, but the sound of the office door made you slow to a stop. 

Father Benedict stepped out, his eyes falling on you. "You have-"

"The keys, I know," you laughed, taking them out and hurrying over to him. 

He took them from you and slipped them into his back pocket, looking down at you with a heavy, pensive brow. You swallowed hard, eyes flitting to the love bite peeking over his collar. You wanted to reach out and touch it, run your fingers over the place your mouth had been, the flesh you'd marked as yours. But you resisted, breathing steadily, waiting for him to speak. 

"Fuck it," he finally said, and in one swift movement, his hands were on your face.

He pulled you into a hard, aggressive kiss, spinning you around and pressing you back against the wall. You gasped into his mouth, fingers immediately finding his hair and grasping it tight. 

His breath was hot, hungry, overflowing with need and frustration. You felt his hands move from your face to your neck, fingertips pushing into the soft skin of your throat as his body pressed firmly into you. 

When he finally broke away, he kept his face close; forehead resting against yours, panting heavily into your open mouth. You moaned softly, chest heaving in an attempt to catch your breath as you stared up at him in awe.

He always said you had a way of looking at him. But the way he was looking at you right now; nothing but fire. 

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[aristia-pjoheadcanons]

POSTING ARES HCS BC HE NEVER GETS ENOUGH ATTENTION

(This is actually canon): It was referenced multiple time in the series “Trials of Apollo” that Ares will often make dirty (inappropriate)-jokes and generally joke around with Apollo about certain things.

Which bring me my headcanon that Apollo and Ares get along because they are the black sheep’s of the family. Apollo will get emotional and start trauma dumping in him, while Ares is sitting there like “that’s rough buddy.”

More headcanons now:

Ares is actually one of the neutral gods in Olympus. (Along with Dionysus, Hades, Athena). Which makes sense why he keeps switching sides mid battle, but even though he does that—other Gods still tolerate him.

He will often be the troublemaker. Often sending horrible pranks to other Gods like creating terrifying & disgusting monsters and send it to Apollo/Hermes/Demeter etc. and blame it on Apollo/Hermes (which usually works because they’re all tricksters).

Demeter doesn’t hate Ares since he would often protect village crops from priests back in 399B.C

I feel like he’s the type of God to have a terrible soft spot for very specific things but would not admit it because he has an image to maintain.

Athena and Ares act like siblings in private meetings and can generally have a nice conversation about battle strategies.

When Athena and Ares were kids they would be on Mount Olympus while silently judging whoever passed them while making nicknames of the people around them. So now, as adults they have a lot of inside jokes but refrain from using them around others.

Hephaestus and Ares are really f’ king awkward around each other for no reason whatsoever. Maybe it’s the fact that they don’t really know how to make friends or not used to making them. But Ares is the God that sends the most requests from him and often praises him (but not to his face). -(which reminds me of when Apollo said he gives encouragement to Hephaestus when he’s working, canon btw).

Ares gets shy very often but has to look strong and unfazed even when his face is red. Most gods just assume that he’s so mad that he turned red.

Other times when he looks like he’s about to pop a blood vessel on his neck & forehead simultaneously, he’s actually trying not to burst out laughing.

He finds his own jokes and thoughts entertaining and has a hard time controlling his facial expressions when he thinks of something stupid. Sometimes he says some of them out loud, other times he keeps it to himself bc most of his jokes don’t even make sense unless you hear his full thoughts.

When the Gods of Olympus first met Ares when he was introduced, everyone thought he was a lot more handsome then they assumed. He usually had a helmet on that covered most of his face and during banquets he would just show himself as smoke (not a person), so when they saw him they thought he looked attractive.

Ares finds it embarrassing to see sculptures of himself. In one of them, you can see him trying to cover up his private areas. He thinks that that is no place for people to see. Which is why he never enters museums.

His favourite meals are burgers, fries, fish n’ chips, (Americanised) Chinese food.

Doesn’t like wine that much, but prefers beer.

(Canon) Since Apollo Said that the Gods have game nights in Mount Olympus,

(headcanon) Ares is the instigator during heated discussions about who is cheating or who won. Ares actually controls his temper well & isn’t the one throwing a tantrum, but rather it’s the other Gods who do so. Athena doesn’t care so much as she believes she can spent her intellect in something worth giving it for, but it’s everyone else that is like that. Hephaestus and Hades are never invited, until after the P.J. Series where they finally accepted him to the table. Hephaestus never truly shows up, he’s awkward and is very insecure about how he smells, looks and gets anxious. If he does ever play, he’s completely quiet and tries to take up as less space as possible. They often put Zeus & Hera/Athena/Artemis at each ends of the table. But everybody let’s Zeus win every once in a while bc he’s a sore loser and nobody has the time & energy for another conflict, not even Ares himself.

When Ares first understood the extent of his powers & realised he could control dead people from the underworld, Hades had to tell him to stop because he needed the labour.

Ares deepest, darkest secret is that he watched children’s movies. But in public cinemas or with other gods/people he will watch action movies.

He secretly wishes that he had a loving family. Over 3 millennia’s of being alive - he is bound to think of things like that at least once.

(Canon) Apollo Said that Zeus used to sing songs during banquets before he was born—

Headcanons: if Ares was alive at that time, he would probably laugh in a corner while listening to him and he would get grounded by his father.