#imagine all these handsome nymph like men

[alaknog]

A bits of Dionysus from Perseus' Grandson

With my attemps to put some literature to machine translation, lol

"Don't be afraid,— the Shaggy One repeated. "You're too handsome for violence. I was…"

He licked lips.

"I would be the same if I hadn't been raised by a woman. Can you imagine? Only women, no men. First the mother of this idiot, then the nymphs of Nisei…"

The third figure flashed before the Phocian — a young man with girlish habits, really similar to the Cephalus itself — flashed and disappeared. There only adult - god? mortal? - which had nothing of a woman in it.

"I like you, Prokrida's fiance. We always like those who we could have become, but didn't. It's a pity that you adore Perseus, and you don't adore me. Why? After all, Perseus and I are so similar! We're practically twins.…"

"You don't have even drop of similarity with him!"

"Do not measure the similarity by drops. Time passes quickly, Big Head, and we weep over yesterday's delusions. Look: we are both the sons of Zeus. Both are unwanted by their relatives. Perseus was hated by his grandfather Acrisius. I was hated by my grandfather Kadm. Both of us, along with our mothers, were nailed into a chest and thrown into the water.…"

"That's a lie!"

Cephalus knew that he was arguing with a drawn sword, ready to strike at any moment.

"You weren't thrown into the sea!" The lord of the gods carry you, sewn into your thigh!

"In the thigh?" Oh, how nice! How close to the crucible of passion! You fool, you should go to the seaside Brasias. Previously, this hole was called Oreyat. There they will tell you how a chest washed up on the shore, where Cadmus the Dragon Slayer imprisoned his daughter Semele with her newborn bastard. The memory of the unfortunate is alive among the Brasians. When my mother died, her sister Ino found me and nursed me in a cave. You see, the superstitious people of Oreyat were afraid to give us shelter under the roofs of their houses.… We are very similar to Perseus. We grew like thistles. As soon as we grew up, we were sent on campaign — him to the west, me to the east."

"No one sent Perseus!" He decided to save people from the Medusa himself.…"

"Well, yes, of course. Save the Danaians from Medusa, who lives on the edge of the Ecumene! If you believe the gossip, kid, your Perseus was sent to a feat by basileus Polydectes. And if you believe the voice of reason, Zeus sent him. As a father send adult son into battle; as a ruler send best warrior. Perseus went to the west and found Medusa there. A little later, I went east…"

***

"I want to be your friend," said the Shaggy One.

Cephalus was silent. The young man was back on the shore, alone with a dangerous interlocutor. And then, in reality, and now, in a dream, the Shaggy One said the same thing.:

"I want to be your friend. Are you really going to refuse me?"

Cephalus  was silent.

"My friendship is a valuable gift. Think about it!"

"What would you ask in return?"

"In return?" - The Shaggy One burst out laughing. — "Friendship is not a commodity. Do you want me to give it away?"

Cephalus  remembered Shaggy One's friends. Those whom I have heard about, whom I knew personally. The Athenian Icarius was killed by drunken shepherds — Icarius treated them to wine received from a friend; the unfortunate man's daughter hanged herself on her father's grave. The Phrygian Midas, a friend, rewarded him with the gift of the "golden touch," and Midas almost starved to death over the golden bread. Ampel, an Ismarian, climbed a tree to get a bunch of grapes hung by a friend and fell to his death.

"Your friendship is as sharp as a sword," said Cephalus.

"If that's the case," the Shaggy Man shrugged, "then what is my enmity?".

***

And bit with Perseus too.

"Rejoice, brother."

"I don't have any brothers. I'm alone at my mother's."

"But don't alone at your father. Rejoice, Perseus, son of Zeus and Danae of Argos! I am Dionysus, the son of Zeus and Semele of Thebes.

Apollo, the son of Zeus and Leto the Chased, looked down on mortals from the height of the pedestal. The god's beautiful face was marred by a disgusted grimace. The sculptors claimed that no matter how hard you try, you can't do without a grimace. This is the will of Apollo; or perhaps, the character.

---—

"They say you killed a Medusa?"

"They say."

"Would you like to share your experience?"

"No."

"Brothers should share the last one. I would give you everything. Do you want me?"

Perseus was silent.

"I'm going east tomorrow, my brother. You brought the head of Medusa, and I'm going to get the head of Rhea, the Mother of the Gods. Our father is wise — there are heads that are better cut off with someone else's hands. They gave you the sickle of Kronos, and they also armed me well. You're older, and you've already achieved your goal. Give me your knowledge! Make my way easier…"

For a moment, a child appeared in the effeminate appearance of Dionysus. The chubby boy looked up at the hero. The confidence that the hero will not refuse a request — whether it's a request to get a star from the sky! — pride in big brother, who is mighty and brave… The look was more dizzying than the wine. I can't, Perseus thought, driving away the hops. I have no right to do this. An oath for an oath. Olympus swore not to interfere in my life. I swore to keep the truth about my campaign a secret. If I lie, Olympus will lie tomorrow. The sickle of the Cronus will not stand against the father's thunderbolts. He's a spy, this handsome one. He was sent to test my resilience.

"Go away. I have nothing to tell you."

"It's a pity. Well, I'll be back one day. Let's see how brother meets brother then."

"Are you threatening me?"

"Should I, a beggar, be threating to Gorgon Slayer?"

Forgetting to return the wreath to Apollo, Dionysus strode towards the exit. When he was already standing on the threshold, Perseus could not stand it. After all, Gorgon Slayer was far from mature. And the strange hops were still fermenting in his blood.

"Wait a minute! You said you were armed with... what?"

Dionysus laughed:

"People go crazy around me." Is the sword good?

[babeseungmin]

Water Spirits

[loominggaia]

Probably NSFW question (please ignore if not allowed) but how did the FGG lose there virginities?

NSFW questions are totally allowed! Since the answer may contain NSFW text, I'm putting it behind a cut.

This is actually a good question. I had to think on it for a bit. Different people have their own opinions about what "counts" as sex. Some people believe it doesn't count if you didn't have PIV specifically or if your clothes stayed on or whatever, but that isn't my personal belief. I think sex comes in many forms, so in this answer I'm counting any kind of sexual contact as sex.

Evan: Evan talks about this a bit in "First Time for Everything" and "Lost and Found", but when he first contracted lycanthropy as a teen, he used to run around Greenhearst with a bunch of hooligans his age. They used to sneak into the girls' school in the city to hang out with the rebellious girls. I imagine he lost his virginity to one of these girls, though he claims the encounters were "embarrassing" and "awkward" because...well, he was only attracted to other men. He always suspected this about himself, but these encounters really drove it home for him. His first time wasn't very fun, sadly. (Though in "Guest of Honor", he he claims his "real" first time was with Zeffer and it was a wonderful experience, so there's that.)

Lukas: Lukas lost his virginity to his childhood friend, Itanya, in "The Perfect Shot". I believe he was 17. He regards the experience very positively, even though he knows his mother would have killed them both if she caught them. It was worth the risk to him.

Glenvar: Glenvar likes to brag about his sexual escapades and claims he has bastard kids all over the globe, dating back to his teen years. But he's known to exaggerate and even lie, especially if he's been drinking, so who knows how true these stories are. He spent a lot of time at a shitty brothel in Odens when he was 14-16, so I think realistically, he probably lost his virginity to some prostitute when he was young and he was too drunk to remember it. Pretty sad, honestly...

Alaine: Soon after she escaped Sovereign's brainwashing, Alaine fled to Zareen Empire and struggled to find work. No one trusted her because she was a mermaid, so like most of her kind, she tumbled into prostitution to make ends meet. She worked at a brothel from ages 18-20, so her first time was most likely with some John who paid for it. She doesn't talk about this much in the series, I imagine because it's a sore spot for her.

Jeimos: In "Steam", Jeimos claims they're not a virgin but doesn't really go into detail about it. They mention they tried to have sex with a "chap" in a bathtub once, but their uncontrolled pyromancy nearly boiled him alive. This was probably their first time, and it must have been while they were homeless in Viersen. They didn't interact with a lot of people at that time except other homeless red elves, so that's probably who the chap was. Needless to say, it must have been a bad experience for both of them.

Isaac: I personally don't count sexual assault as sex...but if you do, then he lost his virginity to a nymph named Red Orchid in the story by the same name. Other than that, Isaac has had no sexual encounters because he deliberately avoids them. That traumatic event has soured the whole idea for him, but maybe he will feel differently in time.

Linde: Linde claims she's dated "lots of guys" in the past, but at this point in the series we just don't know any details. I can only imagine she met some guy in college, had a generic fling with him, and moved on.

Balthazaar: We haven't gotten much detail about Balthazaar's romantic history either, but considering how handsome he was in his youth, I'm sure he had his fair share of sweethearts. His first time was probably with some Rodangi chick.

Skel: Skel had his first time with his childhood friend, Jasenia, who he planned to marry. Things didn't exactly work out that way but...in any case, he considers that moment one of the finest in his life. I imagine they were young teens just fooling around, and it must have been a positive experience because they went at it like rabbits for years after that...

Javaan: Like Glenvar, Javaan likes to brag about his escapades and bastard children. But unlike Glenvar, Javaan's stories are probably true. He hasn't discussed this in the series yet, but I imagine he lost his virginity when he was quite young, probably to another street urchin he was running around with. He was forced to grow up much faster than he should have, unfortunately.

Elska: Elska is actually still a virgin. However, she once came reeeally close to having sex with a man from her tribe. More specifically, the son of her father's best friend. She was set to marry him, and tradition dictated that she had to have sex with him to validate that marriage. But she backed out at the last minute, and she hasn't let anyone touch her since. This event was mentioned in "The Stash".

Mr. Ocean: Being a cecaelia, the way Mr. Ocean experiences sex isn't quite the same as how other species do. But his first sexual experience was with a human woman named Solveig, and this event was detailed in the short story "Motion of the Ocean".

Zeffer: Zeffer doesn't even remember his first time. He had such a bad alcohol problem in his teens, he'd stumble from bar to bar, drunk as hell, meet random women and follow them home, and wake up in strange beds next to them. It's all an unfortunate blur to him. The first time he can actually remember was with Evan. Evan talks about this in "Guest of Honor", claiming he and Zeffer got trapped in a flooding cave. They thought Evan was going to drown (Zeffer would survive, being a vampire) and Zeffer didn't want poor Evan to die without ever knowing the love of another man, so he took one for the team and boned him down right there in the cave, despite being straight. Funnily enough, the flood waters receded, Evan didn't drown, and Zeffer realized maybe he wasn't as straight as he thought...All in all it was a terrifying yet exhilarating experience for them both.

*

Questions/Comments?

Lore Masterpost

[thebadboyfanclub]

The Dream (Geralt x Reader)

Do I have other requests I need to write? Yes, however if I didn’t get this off my system I can’t focus on anything else, so here it goes. Enjoy!

T.W This is my interpretation of nymphs, I don’t want to hear if it’s accurate or not.

Being a Naiads nymph meant to be in tune with nature and water, maintain the peace and harmony with the river, protect it and worship it like it deserved and anyone would pity the man that harmed the rivers and lakes that are protected by them. However the ones that respected it meant that they would in the nymphs good graces, to drink of the water of the naiads river meant to be inspired, madmen, barbs and prophets had told a plethora of stories about the enchanting delicate nymphs.

(Y/n) loved her place in this world, her sisters and the other creatures lived a peaceful life, yet something was missing. A lot of them had witnessed some couples that found sanctuary near the water and had seen them intertwine and let the fiery passion take over them, oh to be in love and worshipped.

“Geralt you might be all indestructible and all but your blood is staining roach”

The lively barb joked loudly enough for the nymphs' to hear. Without even discussing it they all took cover and hid as quickly as they possibly could, of course the humans were aware of the nymphs existence, nonetheless the cruel ones have been known to try and kidnap or harass them.

Geralt was feeling the pain from the wound get more and more intense and it was just his luck that he had just ran out of healing potions, he did not expect that vicious creature to be such a fighter. Dawn was slowly approaching and was hot on their trail, they wouldn’t make it to the next village before dark and thieves could be waiting for them.

“Fine, we stop here”

“Excellent, at least we can wash on the water”

“Don’t even go near, naiads are guarding the water”

“Naiads? What is that?”

“Nymphs fool”

“Nymphs?! Oh it must be my birthday, I heard they are the most beautiful of creatures”

The childlike Jaskier claimed happily, as Geralt got down from his horse and neatly tied it on the tree he wished to have never showed kindness to the annoyingly optimist barb that was calling the nymphs and was taking off his shoes to jump in the crystal clear river. Geralt was just on time to grab him from the collar mid air and pull him back to ground, Jaskier misstopping and falling down on his back with a thud.

“What was that for?”

“You fool, you have to ask them permission and let them show themselves or else they will drown you”

“That’s not very nice of them now isn’t it?”

“Don’t make me throw you in the water Barb”

As nightfall completely took over (y/n) watched them from afar, hiding behind the bushes and half of her face out of it to take a good look at the two men, specifically the white hair muscular man. She could smell his blood, he was severely wounded and tired, her little heart was starting to beat faster every time he spoke with that deep voice

“Sister, get back here, they could be dangerous”

“He respected our river sister, he respects us”

“He is a witcher, he kills creatures”

“Harmful creatures, he protects us from dangerous beasts”

“Don’t tell me you have gotten interested in a mutant”

Her blond hair sister questioned  (y/n). Her sisters were all aware of her desire to fall in love, to be like the couples, she had the chance to marry demi gods yet she raised her nose to them and denied herself, she wanted nothing to do with those stuck up pesky little men.

“He is hurt”

“He will survive it’s what they do... fine, stay here and watch”

And that’s what she did, stayed and watched them slowly drift off to blissful slumber. That is when she got the brilliant idea, she would help him, heal him, he had respected her grounds, saved his mortal friend from punishment, he deserved her help. 

She approached them silently and swiftly through the other side of the river, her breath getting uneven the closer she got to him, he looked so handsome from afar, he was even more perfect when she got next to him. His hand was over his wound on his stomach, a nasty deep slice that looked like it had just stopped bleeding not even moments ago, his face was not peaceful, his brows were furrowed and he would let a groin from time to time, even at his sleep the cut was torturing him

As she gently took his hand off the wound she placed hers over it, feeling the power run through her delicate fingers and to his body.

“Who are-”

“Shhhh, I’m not here to harm you, I mean no harm”

Her voice was like sweet honey to his ears, you can imagine his surprise when he felt a hand to his body and opened his eyes to meet an ethereal creature, her hair fell so effortlessly in her face, yet her eyes pierced his soul, those hues that showed such kindness and purity that lived in her, her sweet smile that made those perfectly shaped lips of hers curl could be the source of the sweetest nectar anyone in this world would ever taste. Her skin glistered under the moonlight, she was an angel sent for him in his dream.

“Rest witcher, you are safe here”

She couldn’t resist anymore, her hand almost acted on its own when she reached to caress his cheek with the back of her fingers, slowly and gently. His hot skin made hers crave more than just a once in a lifetime touch, his flesh was like drug to hers. 

He went to speak when they heard Jaskier start shuffling, a big chance of him waking up startled her. She quickly turned to Geralt and placed a kiss on his Forehead, it could be the last time she ever saw him she had to let him off with some sort of intimacy.

“Goodnight”

“No wait”

Before he could even move the girl was gone, vanished from thin air and leaving him high and dry, he groaned as he let his head touch the ground once again. It was even a minute before he went back to sleep, wondering what was that creature that had helped him and swooned him with just one look.

-

“IT’S A MIRACLE”

Geralt woke up by the defeating voice of the barb. As he opened his eyes a few strands of sunlight hit him in the face, he was almost ready to feel the great pain in his abdomen when he realized the pain never came. 

“Geralt I have to give it to you, I wasn’t sure if you could heal that time of wound. Look at you! All cleaned up and ready to go”

“What?”

As he sat up he took a look at his stomach, the tear in his clothes was there, yet no scar, no blood, like it was never there. He was healed, just like the girl in his dream said

“You know I was scared, you were talking in your sleep”

“I did?”

“Yes, in a... girly way. You almost fooled me I thought we had company, yet when I woke it was just you”

“The dream”

“What dream now?”

“I saw a girl, an angel"

All that was heard was the laugh of Jaskier, he had grown tired of being the only one that talked about a lady and being met with the dissapointed look of his witcher friend Geralt.

(Y/n) on the other side of the river felt her heart stop when she heard him call her an angel, of course the nymphs were known for their beauty, she had heard compliments that would make any woman blush over the years, still it was different when it came from him. It meant something to her when it came from him

"An angel, you were hallucinating Geralt? Well I don't blame you, that cut was nasty so it probably took all your might to heal it"

"Or just a thank you to your healer"

That sweet voice. Geralt turned his head immediately when he heard it, it was her, the girl that he saw at night, the angel in his dream, she was now in broad daylight approaching him. Jaskier that was standing was now seated, completely stunned by the awfully gorgeous woman that was quickly coming to them.

As she rose from the river Geralt and Jaskier felt her immaculate presence and their eyes fell almost simultaneously to her body, she was covered by a piece of see through white dress, that barely covered what was necessary. Her body was as perfect as the rest of her, it was like a woman out of a painting came to life, as her hair fell in front of her breasts, teasing them.

"Holly.... They weren't lying"

"excuse me?"

"the prophets, the songs, nymphs are really"

"you haven't seen a nymph before?"

She questioned. Her voice was more melodic than anything any bard- especially Jaskier- had ever sung. She stood in front of this men, so graciously that she made them feel uncomfortable by just being around her.

"no no I have not. I'm Jaskier"

"oh yes, the eager barb that wanted to jump in."

It was the first time Geralt had ever seen Jaskier blush, he was thankful of that blush because it made the girl laugh, her laugh was also like the best of music, she was a fairytale to look and be around to.

"It's alright dear, my sisters will allow you to go in. Right sisters?"

As she said that, the men saw other girls letting themselves out of their spots, one by one came closer and some of them giggling at the baffled man.

"this is.... Exquisite, excuse me dear"

As he kissed her hand he was gone in a bling of an eye and in a few seconds you heard the splash he made when his body hit the water.

Geralt had just gotten on his feet, no doubt the other nymphs were pretty as well, gorgeous as one would say, yet he was mesmerized by the one standing in front of him. She was looking over at the river, her profile was all he could see when he made a few steps to come near her

"I thought you were a dream"

"I didn't want to wake you... Geralt"

He had never been more excited to hear his name come out of someone's mouth. The gruff, cold man was now swooning over a female he had only seen once in his life.

"Thank you for healing me"

"you respected us, it was the least we could do"

"is that the only reason?"

She turned to look at him, she wasn't that much shorter than him. If he could be certain no one was watching he would had gotten her on his horse and hit the road with her, what has gotten into him? Just one look from those... Diamond like eyes and he was ready to leave with her. As he kept looking at her he felt a smile forming in his lips, his usual stiff characteristics had soften, all because of her

"Such pretty eyes"

She whispered to him. It was the first time he had received a compliment for his eyes, the color of his eyes was a sign on what he was, of what he did.

"what's your name?"

"(y/n)"

She introduced herself as she made a step, filling the small space between them. As he felt her skin against his clothes he tried to not show any type of emotion, he was enchanted by her. She once again reached and caressed his face, her skin felt so soft against his, making him relax and enjoy it.

"I've never met someone like you Geralt"

"A witcher?"

"A noble witcher, you are so rare"

Part two

[raayllum]

all i know is you are someone i have always known

Summary: They meet in a meadow. / Hades!Rayla and Persephone!Callum AU. ao3 link above, title from "All I've Ever Known" from Hadestown.

Word count: 794, drabble

They meet in the meadow.

It is a beautiful day when Rayla creeps up to the Surface, the tendrils of her black robes curling through the lush green grass like oil. She doesn't dare step out into the sun, clinging to the shadows of the forest instead, the ground closing back up behind her. Her realm is always waiting for her whenever she needs it. But this excursion is far more risky. Not that she can't be here—she's the Lord of the Underworld, she can do what she likes—but she rarely ventures this far or close to where the mortals dwell. Their lives are so short, their concept of time so unfamiliar to her that she is only familiar with their end—their last grand statement of where they want to be buried and with who, if it is the last thing that is remembered before they pass onto oblivion.

Laughter, whether of mortals or nymphs, sounds up ahead and Rayla listens, her pointed ears pricking, her feet steering her in the right direction. The forest floor shifts to be a flat plain for her to walk across, the gnarled roots and bumps rising back up once she's passed. Lilac eyes that shine spectacularly peer through the trees as she stands on the fringes and sees a few men and women alike, wrapped in scarves of pale green and matching chitons and robes. They dance like they have never known death—nymphs or dryads, so of course they haven't—and a young man, a godling judging by the glow of him, sits in the middle, his head tipped back in laughter.

His robes are a deep red like the rubies of her kingdom, his eyes a brighter green than any plant or emerald Rayla has ever seen. He's handsome. Rayla has never seen someone so vibrant before, either, so full of life. He stands, no dirt clinging to his clothes, and brushes the naiads off when they try to tug him towards the river on the other side of the meadow, still with that good natured smile on his face. He moves towards the forest instead and the nymphs, after a few shakes of their heads, let him go. She can't imagine letting someone so beautiful out of her sight if she had the choice.

It's for that reason, perhaps, that she does not notice he has gotten too close to her until it is too late.

“Hello.”

Cursing herself for being spotted, Rayla reels back, retreating into the shadows. She doesn’t belong here. “I’m sorry. This was a mistake.”

“No, wait—” The sunlight seems to follow him, grass re-growing under his path as he strides forward, reaching for her. “I know you,” he says, and he can likely just see her eyes in the dark. “You’re the goddess of the Underworld. Rayla.”

Her name is too warm in his mouth. Her cheeks are too warm under his gaze. “Yes. And you’re...?”

“A younger god,” he admits, chuckling. “Callum.”

“Your work is beautiful,” she chances, taking a tiny step forward into his sunlight. “The world could use springtime.”

“You’re beautiful.”

Her breath catches, but she doesn’t retreat this time, when he steps closer. “You’re familiar, ” she says. How, she doesn’t know, but in a way that feels right all the same.

Callum grins, bright and just as beautiful as the day, as his work, and holds out his hand. She hesitates. Will her power overtake his? She doesn’t want to make him numb, the way she makes everyone else in her kingdom down below. But Callum just gives his hand a little shake.

“It’s alright,” he promises, like he already knows .

Rayla takes his hand and it stays warm. Flowers spring up and wilt and regrow under them in a perfect cycle. His thumb runs over her knuckles like a gentle summer breeze. He comes even closer, and she watches with bated breath as he leans down and presses a kiss to them in greeting.

“My queen,” he murmurs.

She doesn’t jerk her hand away once he straightens up again, even if it feels like she’s burning from the inside out. “Have you ever seen the Underworld?” she asks.

Callum grins even wider as he shakes his head. Rayla tugs on his hand in a silent question. Would you like to?

He squeezes her hand in reply, a Yes that goes down to her ancient bones.

She thinks, if they were mortal, her bones could be buried here beside him, and be happy.

“Then come with me,” she says, and leads him down to her realm.

Later, when spring finally ends and he is allowed to spend half the year in their shared home, this is where she waits for him to arrive. He is never late.

[artemiseamoon]

Healing Waters

King Harald. FineHair x F Water Nymph (black)

These new gifs give me so many ideas! I might get lost in the deep of Viking fandom for a bit. Just so y’all know.

Gif credit to @honestsycrets | part 1 of 3

AN: SO I only realized after, I posted the wrong version and I am so annoyed. Here is the edited correct version.

Placing her fingers on the ground, she threads them through the grass as she takes in the sight before her.

The mysterious man, a Viking, bathes in the waters on his own. In the distance, the rest of his group relaxes in the woods.

All the other nymphs went into hiding, waiting for these large men to take their leave before resuming their routines.

It was rare, having humans out here. Whoever these men were, they found themselves on a barely visited part of land.

Abiona watches as he washes his arms, the water taking away the dirt and revealing clean skin.

Her eyes follow his movements, settling on his broad back. He looks strong, steady. She wishes she could remove the dirt for him, to feel his skin under hers. She imagines running her finger over his neat braid, only to undo it and see him with his hair down.

While the others felt fear, with valid reason, she found herself hypnotized. Who was this man?

He turns in the water, revealing his profile. The white hairs peppered in his beard make him look wise. The revelation of his handsome face, though tattooed, only deepens her attraction.

But his eyes, they caused her to frown. He was indeed an unhappy man, a tortured man, a man with regrets. Even so, she could see underneath all of it he was a good man, a man with so much love to give. Love that turned sour and sat stagnant with nowhere to go.

Moved to tears, Abiona wipes her eyes and silences a sniffle. At that moment she must have done something wrong. When she looks back up, the man's heavy blue eyes are on her.

The grumpy expression on his face is now replaced by curiosity. When his lips part, Abiona panics and sinks behind the hill, quickly retreating back to the caves.

More soon

I know , if im lucky, I get like 15 notes on vikings stuff thats not Ivar (esp Harald and Halfdan stuff, where the fans at????) but I’m posting this anyway.

If anyone wants a tag let me know 💜

Permanent @readsalot73 @phoenixhalliwell @buckysalefty​​ @roxypeanut​​ @laketaj24 @lovinglokiforever​​ @nerdypinupcrystar​​ @tephi101 @wigwitch​​ @gallowsjoker @autumnleaves1991-blog​ @jedi-mando​ @ladylothlorien​ @lilangeldevil006​ @rosiefridayrogersunday​ @idreamofboobear Vikings: @naaladareia​ @oldstuffnewstuff @charming-merlin @laketaj24​ @tephi017​ @pomegranates-and-blood @fandomfic-galore @sagitariusrising King Harald Finehair: @alicedopey @gearhead66 @blk-glitter-girl

[jade-masquerade]

Jonsa Halloween Day 2: singing to the stranger, begging for his kiss (colors)

Written for @jonsa-halloween Day 2: Colors

The hall was awash with color, and from her vantage point at the back, Sansa could see it all.  

 The flicker of flames from the candles fashioned by House Waxley illuminated on the stone walls, autumn scents of rich nutmeg and cinnamon-roasted apple and mulled spice floating on the air. Pumpkins, the largest of all those grown in Westeros she’d heard, adorned the tables, flanked by squashes and gourds for the smallfolk to take home after they’d done their decorative duties. Strings of sewn leaves that matched the colors of those outside stretched from sconce to sconce,

 And in between, the crowds themselves were a vibrant departure from the plain dark cloaks and furs of grey and black. Whereas usually house sigils provided the only bits of color in a sea of monotony, now there was nary a sigil in sight, unless one counted Ser Hubert Hersy wearing outrageously oversized white wings and holding a chalice in hand or Ser Uther Shett dressed as a seagull.  

 The costumes of many women were even more elaborate. The likenesses of Shiera Seastar, Princess Nymeria, and Sharra the Witch Queen filled the hall, interspersed among horned unicorns and mermaids and wood nymphs. Girls of all ages wore the floating fabrics of Lady Alyssa Arryn, tears of shimmering blue and silver painting their cheeks, even while they were all smiles. Sansa would have once envied them their extravagant appearances, spending years coveting the bright yellow and blue of one of the branches of House Flint and the pretty violet lilies of House Fenn, bored by the dull white and grey of House Stark.  

 She smoothed over the dress she wore now, all dyed grey, a simple bodice that fit her snuggly and a skirt of wool flaring outward from the waist. Alayne would have looked down at such a drab shade, and truth be told, Sansa would have too, but that was the color of freedom now, of anonymity. With her darkened hair and her unadorned silver mask, she thought even she herself would be hard pressed to recognize herself in such a guise.  

The most flamboyant costumes of those up on the dais caught her eye—huge hoop skirts, towering hats, and embellished cloaks made of velvet and satin and exotic furs. Across the hall, seated among them, Alyssa Stone dazzled in Alayne’s silk dress of mockingbird gold and her ornate mask imported from Braavos. They looked similar enough, and in the darkness with the ale flowing freely, Sansa knew anyone would be hard pressed to tell the difference, yet she still worried the deception would be discovered.

 “I would die to be a lord’s daughter, even just for a night,” Alyssa sighed weeks ago as they sat sewing the garlands of leaves after Sweetrobin’s host of Winged Knights had exited the room with the little lord, each taking a bow before Alayne as they did so. 

“Littlefinger isn’t a lord here, not truly,” Sansa had said, sharper than she should have. “He’s only regent for Sweerobin.”

 “Close enough!” Alyssa said. The handmaid snatched Alayne’s mask from her wardrobe, which Littlefinger had gifted her with earlier that morning, and held it up to her face. “It was your suggestion for the feast to be a masquerade, after all…”

 It had not taken much more convincing than that, the mere inkling of an idea, and so when they’d dressed earlier this evening, Sansa had let down her hair in simple curls and Alyssa pinned hers up in elaborate twists anchored by a golden comb inset with glittering black diamonds, and when they’d emerged from her chambers, no one had been the wiser.  

 Once Sansa had dreamed of harvest feasts and masked balls, and while she still did revel in the magic of it all, in those dreams she had danced, she had fluttered her lashes at the knights who drew here interest, and she had shared sweet kisses with them. She had never imagined she would instead be trapped beneath the watchful eye of a man who called her daughter yet wanted her for himself or be pestered by an intended suitor who saw her as merely a conquest, with whom there would be no love, only desire until his interest waned. In those dreams, she had been among her true family, and in the comforts of her home, and she had always been Sansa, never Alayne.

And so for tonight she decided to call herself Jeyne, a common enough name not likely to arouse any suspicions, the name of her closest friend from Winterfell whose memory still pulled at her heart. Sansa vowed she would find her someday, once she escaped this place. Jeyne had shared those same dreams with her, and Sansa remembered the faces she’d pull whenever her friend sighed over Robb, how they had tittered together over Lord Beric Dondarrion, and how Jeyne had once squealed when Sansa admitted she wondered how Ser Waymar Royce most liked to be kissed, earning a sharp glare from Septa Mordane.

 Now, though, those intentions seemed positively innocent. Sansa would be lying if she said she had not thought of far more than gentle kisses nowadays and if she denied being curious about the things Myranda spoke of. She craved the brief, easy whirlwinds of romance the older girl and her handmaids shared in hushed whispers, to merely experience what exhilarations of youth had been stolen from her when they took her father’s head and Cersei’s demands turned her captive. She wanted a single night where she did not have to play this game, a moment where she felt liberated, no longer the little bird kept in a cage. She knew it was silly, maybe stupid even, but she could not help but hope for a kiss and perhaps more with a man she found dashing, a man who cared little or not at all if she bore a bastard name, a man who wouldn’t laugh at her blushing the way Harry sometimes did when she pushed away his insistent hands or turned her cheek to him.  

 The feast cleared quickly despite the many rounds, and soon the musicians struck up “Fair Maids of Summer” in celebration of the true end of the season. Sansa watched a couple dressed as Jonquil and Florian take the floor, another garbed as Lady Shella and her Rainbow Knight soon following. Alyssa danced with Ser Harrold, and the fact that it seemed he couldn’t tell the difference only confirmed what a dolt he truly was. They would giggle about this later, Sansa knew; Alyssa had become a true friend in the time they spent together, as true a friend as Alayne could have anyway.

 Sansa herself set her sights on the handsome knights and men-at-arms seated at the long tables on the floor and below the salt. Some she recognized from the tournament where Sweetrobin had crowned his Winged Knights, but Harry had filled her sights then, and most of them wouldn’t have dared to look askance at the daughter of Lord Baelish or cross Ser Harrold by intruding on his betrothed. She was no longer confined though; now she was free to choose, and she eagerly drank them in.

 The seven sons of House Sunderland all equally striking, even dressed as the seven drunken oarsmen. She admired Ser Cadwyn Egen and his riot of blonde curls, Ser Osbert Woodhull and his sweet smile, and how Ser Robbett Ruthermont so tall she would have had to crane her neck to glimpse his face if he held her in his arms. And then there were some things about them she liked for no reason at all it seemed: the way Ser Symon Crayne wore the collar of his shirt open to expose his chest, how Ser Landon Hunter looked exceptionally good in his tight huntsman breeches, what it would sound like for Jace Stone, a bastard son from one of the Templeton branches, to whisper in her ear with his deep voice.  

 She avoided Ser Morgarth and Ser Byron as she made her rounds. Ser Byron was good looking enough, but Sansa didn’t trust him more than her arm could reach, and the risk of recognition there would be too great anyhow. There were plenty of others, who came from lands afar and would return there after this night, and it did not take long until she was swept into the throng by Walder Upcliff.

 He wore a high-necked cloak and a white mask, and she could smell ale already on his breath. She tried to engage him in cordial conversation, but Walder seemed far more interested in glancing down her dress than meeting her eye. With his leering smile and the way his hands dug into her hips to hold her closer than she would have liked, Sansa was grateful when the song changed, and he evidently lost interest in the slow, mournful rhythm of “Fallen Leaves.”

 She participated in dancing the steps of the next few songs, a reel and a quick number where she spun from one partner to another, laughing breathlessly.    

 “Ser Andar,” she said, looking up at the knight with whom she’d had the fortune to finish the previous song. Ser Andar was every bit the picture of gallantry and comeliness, with his wavy golden hair, broad chest, and hands that spanned her waist. “It’s so lovely to see you this evening.”

 He frowned. “Beg pardon, have we met?”

 “Oh, I’m Lady Elesham’s handmaid. Jeyne,” she said, catching herself. “I admired your performance in the tournament of the Winged Knights. It’s a shame Lord Arryn did not choose you for his guard. I can think of no one more deserving.”

 He did smile at that. No matter how stoic he was, it seemed he enjoyed flattery as much as anyone else.  

 “You’re so strong,” she said, running her hands along the muscles in his arms.

 “It’s only sword work,” he said. “It requires none of the great effort needed to tend your lady, I imagine.”

 She giggled, reaching up to touch her hair. She found herself not minding so much if Ser Andar found it fit to study the bosom of her dress, and she found herself very much wantonly wishing to draw his attention to the curves of her body there.

 His attention seemed elsewhere though, either that or he possessed a remarkable streak of honor that no other man could manage to compete with, for he steadfastedly maintained his gaze on some point over her shoulder.  

 “Excuse me,” he said as the last chords of “The Bear and the Maiden Fair” faded, and he disappeared in the direction of one of Sweetrobin’s Winged Knights.  

 It was no matter, though. Sansa turned, and she whirled right into the arms of another.  

[lilyharvord]

Song of the Pheonix Part 8

Hey guys, sorry this took so long to get out. It was super hard to find time to write this lately. Also I was having a hard time connecting plot points. I think I finally got this set up though. It's a little shorter than all the previous chapters, but it gets the important work done. The support for this fic is so uplifting! You can also find it on AO3, and any kudos and comments there are super helpful! 

AO3 Link

Find the rest of the parts here: 

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 / part 4 / part 5 / part 6 / part 7 

Enjoy! 

(/Coriane/)

      It’s surprisingly cold when the sun begins to rise. Doria snores softly in her chair, while I sit huddled in my mass of blankets. For two nights I’ve sat like this, watching my jailor nod off in the early morning. If I wanted to escape, that would be the time to do it. To combat the cold I could take a blanket, and I’d slowly been stashing away little bits of food that was brought to me. I had enough for maybe two days if I rationed it. I can’t leave without Mare though. At least, I feel like I shouldn’t leave without her. Would we even make it out of the hundreds of miles of plains to return to Ascendant? I don’t even know which direction the city is in, let alone how we’ll climb a mountain to get to it. And if she’s in the same state I remembered, I would have to carry her. I know for a fact that I’m not strong enough to do that. I’ll cross that bridge when I get there though.

Doria snorts and then shakes awake, drawing me out of my thoughts. Her bleary eyes blink into focus as she searches the tent wildly for me. When she finally sees me, almost hiding underneath my pile of blankets, she rubs at her eye with her palm. “Need coffee.” She grumbles before rising from the chair. I watch her pull her hair into a messy tie before asking, “Can I have some?”

Her eyes narrow until she says, “Get up.”

I push the blankets off of me and stand. She looks me over, and her lips curl as she takes in the same robe I’ve worn for three days now. Tapping her point finger to her thumb, she says, “Stay here.” She pushes the flap aside, only to pause and look over her shoulder once more. “Try to leave, and you won’t make it passed the third row of tents.”

“Why would I try and run through hundreds of miles of plains dressed like this?” I grumble as I sit on the vanity stool. Doria’s brow raises at my tone, only for her lips to curl up in a smirk as she leaves the tent.

Outside of the tent, the sounds of the early risers preparing for the day begin. Guards grumble as they switch shifts, alerting each other to potential obstacles. I strain my ears, hoping to catch a hint of Mare’s location. No one discusses her though. Squeezing the loose fabric of my robe in my fists, I try to wait patiently. I doubt Doria will bring me anything back, but I can hope. Coffee does sound nice, regardless of where I’m getting it from.

The tent flap opens, startling me, and Doria enters before stepping aside to reveal Proteus. Raising my chin as he lets the flap close behind him, I say, “You are not coffee.”

He chuckles, completely in control of his expression now. He looks me over before saying, “They’re scouring the mountain for you and Barrow. I have half a mind to leave two animal carcasses for them to find.”

My blood runs cold, imagining what that could do. Blood would run down the mountain in waterfalls if he does that. Swallowing the bile in my throat, I whisper, “Don’t. You’ll have to send more men and women to die if you do that.”

His expression hardens, and he closes the space between us to say, “You don’t know the first thing about what my people would do for their goal.” “Show me, let me try to help you. My son—“

“Your son is a middle rung on a ladder. He forfeited his right to sway anyone’s decision when he abdicated.” Proteus waves my words away with his hand. “I can get more out of killing you and Barrow than I can from trading you.”

My stomach rolls, and I spot Doria finger the knife on her belt behind him. My fingers twitch in my lap and I breathe, “Please. You can achieve more than you think through negotiations.” I would sing if I could, but Proteus avoids my eyes contact expertly. I should have never told him how to prevent me from singing. Beating myself over that mistake won’t help me now though. Besides, if I sing him into a stupor, I’ll have to figure out some other way to handle Doria. I can’t sing to them both.

He keeps his eyes on the floor as he says, “There is no negotiating with Montfort.”

“They’ve been in negotiations with the Lakelands for years now… with Norta, with Piedmont. They can be negotiated with!” I shout as I rise to my feet. Doria takes a step forward and I glare at her, and the song comes before I even mean to release it. “Leave.”

She freezes, her expression going slack as her eyes glaze over. Raising my chin, I sing to her again. “Leave us, he can handle—“

Proteus’s hand closes over my mouth, while his arm wraps around my middle. His fist presses into my diaphragm until the air leaves my body is a pathetic wheeze. Doria stumbles backwards, reaching up to grab her temple as Proteus throws me into the corner of the tent. My head hits the ground so hard my teeth rattle. I try to rise to my hands a knees in a daze, certain that this is now the only chance I will have to escape.

A wave of water hits me though, and I choke as it surrounds my head in a cocoon. I reach up with desperate hands, and try to claw at it. It simply rushes past my fingers though. Through the swirling froth, I can make out Proteus, who sweeps his hand in small circles, controlling the orb of water.

       He’s a nymph.

My vision begins to tunnel as I drop my hands. My lungs burn for air, and through the wisps of my hair ripped from their braid by the force of the water, I can see Doria urging Proteus on. Her eyes are murderous and I don’t need to guess why. I made her weak for a moment, and if Proteus doesn’t finish me here, she will do it.

I open my mouth when I can’t take it anymore. Water rushes in and I fall forward, my vision going dark. The cocoon collapses and I swallow gulps of air, coughing on the remnants of the water as I do so. Doria’s muffled cries of surprise and fury echo on the edge of my vision. When I crane my neck from the ground, I spot Proteus leaving the tent, his expression pale and his hands shaking. Doria chases after him, leaving me alone in a puddle of mud.

(///)

The blankets do little to warm me after my near brush with death. But Doria and Proteus do not come back. I’m sure they left a new guard outside my tent. I’m willing to risk it though. Scrambling to gather my food in a little makeshift bag I made from the blankets, I try to make a plan. I was never a strategist, but Tibe used to try to tell me about his battle plans when we were first married. I try to channel him in this moment, thinking about what he would think about.

I edge toward the tent flap and curling a finger around it, I lift it just enough to look out. There are no guards, only a few children playing with a ball outside. They giggle and shout as they chase after it, kicking up dirt as they do so.

My heart pounds in my chest and I step out into the sunlight. Already I can feel my hair drying under the burning sun. I waste no time scurrying past the children and toward the center of camp. Maybe that will surprise them. After all, who would be dumb enough to escape through the center of camp? I hope that I’m thinking this through correctly. I doubt it, but if this is my one shot at escaping, so be it.

My next step is to find Mare. The fact that no one has tried to stop me makes me bold, and I pause for longer periods of time to try and locate the Shed where they took her.

I’m listening in on two women washing sheets when a cold hand grabs my arm from behind.

“You do have a death wish.”

I try to throw a punch, but Proteus catches it easily. Spinning me so my back is to his chest, he pins my arms to my sides and says, “But you do have the makings of a decent spy.”

“Let me go!” I spit at him, trying to stamp my heel on his foot. He simply turns it out to side, avoiding easily. I throw my head back to catch his nose in response, but he tilts his head to the side, and ends up with his nose buried in my neck. I tense at the feeling as he breathes against my skin.

       “Not a chance. You and I have things to discuss.”

He drags me out of the camp then, passed the tents until we’re standing under the shade of a dying tree. He finally releases me so that I can spin away. Panting for breath, I stalk around him in a circle, trying to look imposing. He raises a brow at my posturing and then chuckles at it.

That makes me pause, and choke, “are you laughing at me?”


       “You’re worse than a child. Did no one teach you how to fight?” He laughs when my face falls slack, and steps forward to grab my wrist again. Pressing his thumb into the tiny bones of my wrist he drags me close to him so he can whisper to me. “You’re going to help me end this war with Montfort. Whether you like it or not.”

I struggle against his hold, fury boiling in my stomach. It’s iced over by fear though when he says, “Do as I say, or I’ll find a nice hole to bury Mare Barrow in.”

“Why not bury me and use her?” I spit. His brows draw together then, and his eyes look me over for a moment.

“The Premier of Montfort wants all the Living Dead she can get her hands on. Barrow may be important to a number of people, but she’s not important to that snake of a woman. You are.”

I strain against his hold, desperate to put some distance between the two of us. I had underestimated how handsome he was the first time I saw him. My traitorous eyes want to observe him, compare him to other men I remember. It doesn’t help that he smells like lavender and something else, something earthy and clean.

“Where is she?” I manage to get out when I stop pulling against him. He drops my wrist and I stumble backwards and land on my back in the dirt. He stands over me, blocking the sun for the most part. I glare until he huffs.

        “Will you stop struggling if I take you to her?”

I squint, wondering if I should even trust him. He did cut my bonds, and instead of killing me like Doria obviously wanted him to, he dragged me out here. I definitely don’t trust him as far as I can throw him, not that that would be very far. But do I have any other choice?

“Show me her.”

(/////)

The shed truly is a shed. It’s made of a few beaten up pieces of tin, and stands alone in a field. It’s a lonely, horrible place. And Mare is locked up inside. The heat is enough out here to make me sweat walking the few steps from the transport. I can’t imagine the temperatures inside that metal box.

    The guards standing outside it, straighten from their slumped positions as Proteus approaches. He waves away their respectful salutes. They share worried glances before one of them reports, “she’s been quiet all day. Not a peep from her.”

     “Good.” He says before steps up to the lock. The guard closest to the door waves a hand over it. It clicks and falls open with a rusted creak that I can feel in my bones. I wouldn’t have been able to get her out if even if I had escaped from the village. I didn’t have the strength to deal with the guards, and I would have needed a magnetron to open the door. I would have done all the work to get here, just to hit a road block at the finish line.

     As the door swings open, a wave of sweltering air washes over my face. It’s hot enough in there to cook an egg in the dirt. Ignoring it, I hurry past Proteus to do a quick sweep of the room. Are they giving her water? Has she already died of heat exhaustion? It's shadowy in here, but I can feel the heat pressing in on me from all sides. I imagine when the door closes it's very similar to suffocating.

     Mare’s huddled form in the corner draws me like a beacon. I drop to her side, cringing at the silent stone net before throwing it off. Proteus doesn’t bother to stop me as I roll Mare onto her back and whisper to her. “Mare? Mare are you awake?” She doesn't respond, and my heart beats faster in response. "Wake up Mare, show me you're alive."  

     Her skin is flushed like she has a horrible sun burn, and she’s soaked in sweat. A low groan escapes her, and I glare at Proteus over my shoulder even though relief washes over me. “Get her some water.”

    He shrugs at my demand. “Promise to help me end Montfort.”

     “Get her some water.” I grind the words out through my teeth. I’ve never been so furious in my life. Even in Norta we had never treated political prisoners like this. This was barbaric and inhuman. “Get her water and cool towel.”

Proteus doesn’t move. It’s a stalemate then. Hissing under my breath, I turn back to Mare. Gently pulling her hair back from her face, I start to tame it into a ponytail of sorts to get it off her neck. “It’s alright,” I coo to her as she groans again. Her skin boils under my hands. Not good. I know a dangerous fever when I see it.

     My robe is much thinner than the heavy duty clothes she is still wearing. I make up my mind quickly. Stripping her of her shirt I wring it out as best I can. Even though my entire body recoils at what I’m doing, I carefully exchange it for the top of my robe. The shirt immediately sticks to my skin, and I want to be sick.

     I swallow the bile, before going for her pants. We’re roughly the same size, but I’ll need a belt to keep the pants on. “Relax,” I whisper to her as I put myself between her and Proteus, trying to give her a sense of privacy. She probably couldn’t care less about it right now, but I won’t let that happen. Underneath my hands her skin feels slick like butter. I can barely get her clothes off. They stick to her like a second skin. She was in here for days. How is she not dead yet? I can't imagine being put through this.

    Once I’m wearing her clothes, and I’ve adjusted enough to the feeling of them on my skin, I slide my robe on her. “Everything’s going to be okay.” My words a pathetic and they probably dont come close to comforting. Does she know that I might have to leave her in here again?

     She groans again, and grabs my wrist in a grip that is so weak my stomach flutters. I shush her softly before looking at Proteus again. “Get her water and I’ll do what you need.”

     “Swear your loyalty to my cause.”

     “Are you really going to split hairs right now? She’s dying.”

     He shrugs. “It’s nothing she doesn’t deserve. She’s killed more of mine than her life could repay a hundred times over.”

“<em>Get her water now</em>.” I sing it this time. His eyes glaze over, and he snaps to attention to complete the order. But the song wears off quickly. I’m too close to the silent stone, and its effects are washing over me as they radiate out.

       He stumbles back and grabs at his temple. With a glower in my direction, he says, “Stop doing that.”         “<em>Get her water.</em>” I sing it again, determined to push beyond the nauseating effects of the silent stone. He turns his eyes away from me though and my words are just a pretty melody that bounces off him. The guards arrive at the entrance after hearing the commotion I'm causing.

      I throw myself to my feet and rush him, repeating the song over and over again. He catches me and pins me to the wall by my throat, making the tin rattle. I wheeze and claw at his wrist in response. I feel like a feral cat that has been caught. I'll gouge his eyes out if have to if it means I can get Mare out of this place.

    Grimacing at the headache I’ve probably given him by trying to hammer my will home over and over again, he catches my wrist with his other hand. “I’ll take her back to the camp if you swear your loyalty to me, right here, right now. Does that appease you?” He pants in my face. I can’t get a breath of air passed his fingers to reply with words. Can I agree to this? If I do, will I be betraying the people who took me in initially?

     But Mare is going to die in this horrid place if I leave her here. I won’t put her blood on my hands.

       Nodding, I crane my neck to gasp for air. “Get her out.”

       He drops me to the floor and turns to the guards with an order to bring Mare to the transport. They blanch at him, and try to argue but his next words are sharp and biting. They leap to action, rushing for Mare who has fallen silent again.

       On the ground, I massage my throat and try to get air to my aching lungs. I watch them pick Mare up though. Her eyes, which are finally open, fall to me. I can’t even muster a smile for her, or another reassuring word. I have a horrible feeling I’ve just tied myself to a group that will use me as a shield against the people I actually trust. Have I doomed her and me? Probably. But she's alive, and she's out of here. Maybe we can come up with a plan together now. Relief washes over me as they carry her out into the sunlight. Proteus looks down at me with a condescending eye as I glower up at him.

      "There may be a soldier in you yet." He breathes before grabbing my arm and dragging me to my feet. I have no idea what he's talking about, but I'm exhausted from using my ability so much in such a short time and I willingly let him drag me out to the transport too.

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Flutter [M]︳01

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

AU: Greek Mythology (mini-series - 3rd installment)

Genre: Romance/smut

Rating: NSFW

Warning: Boob-job, oral sex (m. receiving), slight cum-play (body/facial), public sex, wing play (you got wings, and they feel good) 

Words: 13000+ 

Notes: After storing this story for so long, it's finally here! *excited clapping*

The second part (the final part of Futter) - is set to release at the end of this month. Here is the link to my Story Road-Map for the month of May. The second part will release on the same week as the prologue release of Ménage à Trois (Jimin x Reader x Taehyung). I made a small boo-boo on the story road-map and only had Ménage à Trois written, not Flutter. But I'll fix it soon! Also, I was going to do warn you guys about dropping the update today - but after babysitting my nieces, I just had to get it up here before I fall asleep lol.

Thank you, everyone, for waiting patiently, take care~!

Masterlist ︳Prologue  ︳02

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

 He wasn’t just in love; he was head over heels, wholly consumed by a burning passion. The way you twirled in the flower fields, giggling innocently as you tugged him along. He loved you, and he knew, that now was the time. “Seokjin…?” You whispered, puzzled by his face of concentration, but he just smiled, brushing his hand against your flushed cheek, “My butterfly – my wings.”

Flutter [M] ︳01

           “Did you see Kitten this morning? It’s like she wanted to get ruined again.”

           “Give our sweet Princess a break – she’s only human after all…”

           “Hmm, we both know there’s not a single thing that our sweet Kitten can’t handle.”

           Your eyelashes battled innocently, cheeks reddening the more you listened. A harmonious mixture of disbelief and embarrassment painting your face.

           It was impossible to strip your gaze away from them - the way Taehyung and Jimin moved their plump lips, lustful words dancing off the tips of their tongues. The way they spoke, one would have thought they were talking about their wines, not their sexual rendezvous.

           What a way to start the day.

           “Kitten? Princess?” You spoke with a perfectly raised brow, fingers tapping on the armrest of the couch you sat upon—an easy thing, designed by the one and only, Taehyung, himself. But the newest addition of furniture was the last thing on your mind, especially knowing that Jimin and Taehyung were utterly love-struck.

           As if Eros, himself, shot them with one of his arrows.

           It wasn’t that you thought Taehyung and Jimin were incapable of loving someone; you just didn’t think they would share, let alone with a mere mortal.

           Your smooth voice reminded them of your presence, and they smirked to each other - leaning back into the couches they sat on. You could only imagine the filth coursing through those corrupt minds of theirs – was their mother really a human? They seem more like direct offspring of Aphrodite and Dionysus...

           Taehyung’s arms rested along the back of the couch, his fingers drumming as he crossed his legs, “She’s a beauty, y/n. But more importantly-”

           “She loves us, both of us.” Jimin finished, manspreading as his hands brushed through his hair, a sweet but devilish smile on his face. And just like that, you could see it; love. It twinkled in their eyes, and despite their shameless talks and the physical attractions, they genuinely loved her.

           “And to think that just a moment ago, you were cute, awkward, teenagers.” you giggled, brushing your curtain of hair behind your ears. Seeing them sporting the broadest smiles on their faces, in utter bliss, made your heart swell with happiness. You’ve seen them grow, all six of them, ever since you began a courtship with the eldest brother, Seokjin.

           To see them now, grown men, handsome and wise, and smitten, was the best thing that could have happened to you. To you, the brothers were your children, and it made sense since you’ve known them from the very beginning.

           “Have the others met her? I would love to meet her.” You beamed, leaning forward with eagerness, and Taehyung let his long fingers tap against the couch, “Nearly everyone, except Yoongi…but, you know him…”

           You pouted, nodding knowingly.

           He had his own worries, his own love troubles, and seeing people madly in love would most likely dampen his mood even more.

           “We invited you over as we have a task, something we could only entrust with you…” Jimin spoke, his voice light as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. With a tilted head, you nodded, eager to hear what the great Gods of Grapes could possibly want from just a butterfly-nymph like yourself.

           And the moment they spoke, you felt your heart stop, face dropping that stunning smile to a forced one.

           “We want to make her ours - officially. And there’s no one else we could trust with planning such an event than yourself.” Taehyung spoke, his eyes hazing over as he smiled to himself.

           Your breath hitched at his words; he couldn’t possibly mean what you think he does.

           “Y-you’re talking about marriage?” You muttered under your breath, and Jimin grinned, “Who would’ve thought we would be settling down already, the Great Gods of Moscofilero and Xinomavro.”

           Taehyung and Jimin chuckled to themselves, nodding in unison at the thought, utterly oblivious at the sound of your involuntary giggle, hands intertwined on your lap. Your nails dug into your skin, bottom lip trembling as you thought about it – marriage.

           You loved Jimin and Taehyung, but not that way.

           You were happy that they were happy, glad that they found the one.

           The twisting of your stomach, the lump that built up in your throat, was caused by an entirely different thing.

           You’ve been with Seokjin for God knows how long, and yet, he never did propose or make any move that would suggest he was thinking of it. And while they were plenty of happy couples in Olympus, unmarried and with no desire to do so, marriage was something the both of you expressed a desire for – valued.

           How long has it been? Five hundred, maybe six hundred years in mortal time? Hundreds of years, the two of you have spent cuddled under the stars, love letters and poems shared in between.

           You were the couple people envied; the pair folks ran to whenever something went sour in one’s courtship. Aphrodite blessed your relationship as the ‘symbol of unity,’ boosting how she ‘couldn’t have had arranged a better pair than you.’

           Oh, the irony – is it seems that everyone else was ready to engage in the act of official unity, except the very symbols themselves. The gut-wrenching feeling, skin-crawling hearing the happy news from your two balls of joy – you were jealous.

           Jimin and Taehyung were ready to propose to a woman, whom they’ve known for less than a quarter than how long you and Seokjin have been dating. “I’m happy for you two.” You spoke slowly, compelling a smile to stay on your face as you gazed over at the two boys.

           It wasn’t like you fantasized about being a wife since you were little, but it still hurt.

           It was something you both cherished, and you didn’t think the relationship was failing, so what was it? If only you could pop the question, you would; but given Seokjin’s status, that was a no-go.

           Were you wasting your time?

           Asking too much from a God?

           Was he-was he in love with someone else? It wasn’t uncommon for the Gods to stray away, only a handful of them stay faithful – the brothers being prime examples. But Seokjin isn’t that type of man. He’s loyal, that was never a genuine fear – unless it should?

           Your heart was pounding vigorously, as if someone stuffed a waterfall inside of your body. The soft mummers from the boys were lost to the thrashing in your head – oblivious to the confused looks they shared.

           Was Seokjin just content?

           Maybe he does value marriage, just not with you.

           Now that you’re thinking about it…Every single thing that happened in your relationship was starting to make itself present in your mind.

           Every gesture, word, touch under heavy scrutiny in your brain. Even the small things were flashing, like a red blanket flying in the warm breeze in a field of white daisies. Everything seemed important.

           How Seokjin kept freezing up every time you hugged him or gave him a peck. Or how awkward he seemed at times at your presence, like he was uncomfortable or stress. It was like Seokjin was there with you but not at the same time. Was your relationship falling apart this whole time, and you just never noticed? So caught up in your emotions of love and admiration, you missed the signals appearing this past month alone?

           The warning signs – the red blanket.

           You felt it; hands resting over yours, causing your eyes to flutter open – not realizing you had even shut them. Jimin was kneeling in front of you, his hands grasping yours. “What’s wrong…? Are you mad at us?” he questioned, voice strained.

           “N-no, sorry, I was just thinking and- I’m sorry. I’m fine, Jimin, please don’t concern yourself with me-” you cooed desperately, cupping his hands and pressing a bright smile. But Jimin sulked, shaking his head at the words you spoke.

           “What is on your mind, y/n? We know you as well as you know us.” Taehyung huffed. He leaned over his knees, eagerly awaiting your answer. But the truth of the matter was, what do you say?

           That you’re jealous of some woman, you never met?

           That you wanted to marry their brother?

           “I-it’s nothing, I promise. I’ll gladly help you with your wedding.”

           “It’s Seokjin…isn’t it?” Taehyung muttered under his breath. With that statement alone, he clicked his tongue, head shaking as he straightened his back and gazed away. You couldn’t stop your breath from hitching, surprised that he guessed as fast as he did, but also not since it would be the only answer that would make sense.

           Jimin glowered, the grip on your hand tightening tenfold, forcing your eyes to fall back on the man kneeling before you. “J-Jimin, sit up. You know it’s shunned upon for a God to kneel before anyone less than-”

           “But you’re not just anyone. You’re practically our mother.”

           His small hand untangled themselves with yours, dusting his stunning black silks as he stood. A bittersweet smile painted your pink lips – they viewed you as a mother figure, and that meant tons. There was a reason why you were able to speak freely with them, not having to hold your tongue. You cleaned their diapers – you earned it.

           “I’m not sure what Seokjin did, but you know how he can be. He can be aloof.” Taehyung complained, and you couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly. He had a point, although Taehyung isn’t one to talk. Aloofness was, more often than not, his middle name.

           But it wasn’t that Seokjin was unwise, he just proved…oblivious, for lack of a better word. For someone who was such a family man, a man who valued tradition and customs like the apple in his eye, he was unusually slow at picking up hints. There was a reason why you had to initiate the first kiss, the hand-holding. What a frustrating God, Seokjin, could be.

           So, was it aloofness?

           No, it was more so his fear of pushing you – hurting you. ‘You’re my butterfly – and I never want to be the reason why you no longer flutter as beautifully as you do.’ You smiled sheepishly, remembering his romantic words – what a goof.

           “Does…Seokjin wish to marry me?” you spoke under your breath, more so a question for yourself than for your boys to hear. Jimin’s eyes widen, his jaw almost dropping to the marble floor as he huffed heatedly.

           “That’s it; I’m going to talk with him. What’s wrong with that man? He’s beyond self-conceited and prides himself in being the most handsome God that he forgets to pay some attention to you.”

           You blushed at Jimin’s words, hearing the anger in his voice.

           There was one thing you learned about these boys – it was that Jimin was a sweetheart, but if pushed, he could make Zeus himself fearful. Standing tall, he raged internally; his jaw clenched as he brushed back his hair messily. A habit of his that often-had men and women swooning.

           “Jimin, no need to get worked up-”

           “But it’s utterly pathetic. He’s our older brother, yet Taehyung and I are set to wed before him! How embarrassing on his part. Can you even call yourself a God at that point?”

           He nailed it.

           “Maybe Seokjin isn’t interested-”

           “Now, you’re starting to anger me, y/n.” Taehyung growled under his breath, his hazel eyes glaring at you with venom. Tones of exasperation and annoyance were unfamiliar, let alone having it directed towards yourself. You prepared to speak, to ease the tension, but the sound of stumbling footsteps pattering along the tiles bet you to it.

           The footsteps caught the attention of you three, shifting your gaze to the tall man holding a pile of books. The unofficial God of destruction – this isn’t good. You bolted from your seat, running to Namjoon, knowing very well that it was only a matter of time before those hardcover books landed on the floor.

           “T-thanks, y/n.” Namjoon grinned, passing you a bunch of ancient dusty records. There wasn’t a moment in time where he wasn’t reading, or in the process of working on another study—a man of reason and education.

           “Another ‘study date’?” You teased, wiggling your brows, earning a lopsided grin. This man might as well move into Athena’s library with his partner – you’re surprised Athena hasn’t kicked him out or banned him.

           “I don’t think fucking is synonymous with studying,” Taehyung chuckled under his breath, causing you to shot him wide eyes. “What can I say – I learn best through demonstration.” Namjoon pestered back.

           These boys have no filter in the slightest.

           “That’s it, I overstayed my welcome, I’m taking off my lovely Gods of Grapes!” You squealed, tossing the pile of books onto the coffee table. Jimin chortled, friskily slapping Namjoon’s shoulder before edging forward.

           “Why not stay for lunch, we miss spending time with our mom,” Jimin asked as you grabbed your shawl. The delicate fabric fell over your shoulders, skimming your fluttering wings. Sitting down against the couch had your wings shuddering, basking in the sudden freedom, no longer constricted against the backing of the sofa.

           “I wish, but I have a lunch date with Seokjin-” you started, Jimin’s touch lingering over your torso. He made sure that the fabric laid perfectly over your exposed shoulders, tugging at the loose strands of hair that managed to get trapped between your wings and the shawl: Taehyung’s influence, no doubt.

           Jimin rolled his eyes at your words, ready to complain, but he didn’t get a chance.

           “That’s impossible,” Namjoon interjected, frowning as he let the rest of the books tumble from his arms. You both froze, staring at Namjoon sharply, your eyes urging him to continue. Namjoon lazily tossed the last book onto the growing pile before shrugging his shoulders, “He went to the mortal realm- had some business. He isn’t set to arrive till tomorrow.”

           The way Namjoon spoke casually, ignorant to the way Taehyung’s hands balled into fists. A timid ‘oh’ was all you muster up, your wings curving inward, self-doubt eating you up alive.

           Seokjin left, and he didn’t tell you.

           The look on Jimin’s face screamed pity, the hands that rested on your shoulders squeezing, ruining the work he put into making sure you looked nothing short of perfect.

           “Y/n-” he whispered breathlessly, and you forced a smile, “I’m fine, Jimin-”

           “You’re not fine, y/n, stop acting like you’re fine.” Taehyung groused, the whole room stilling at his voice. Namjoon’s face tensed, that relaxed expression vanishing as your figure cowered, hearing the way Taehyung’s temper flared.

           “What’s going on? Evidently, I missed something.” Namjoon spoke, eyes switching between you and his brothers. Taehyung clicked his tongue, shaking his head once again before looking through the large window – staring at the serene gardens of their estate.

           The gorgeous red and pink floras that covered the gardens, they were beginning to blossom. Their potent floral scents carried effortlessly in the light breeze and into their home – this whole time, you thought it was candles emitting the smell.

           A few dots of yellow scattered throughout the fields, and it didn’t take long to take note that they were bees. Bees that were hungrily buzzing away, enjoying the sweet taste of pollen from the budding flowers. Hoseok and his partner must be on their way here.

           “There’s nothing wrong, but I do need to go. I have things I need to do-” you mumbled under your breath. The last thing you wanted was to cause a more significant scene; the rest of the brothers getting involved. Mainly because the only person scarier than Jimin was Hoseok. You don’t want to make that ball of sunshine upset.

           Your hands scrabbled with Jimin’s, trying to fix the way the shawl draped your shoulders, before stopping. “Seokjin is neglecting y/n, and she thinks he doesn’t love her anymore!” Jimin blurted, and your face flushed in embarrassment.

           “Jimin!” you shrieked, and Jimin glared.

           “What? Is it not true? Were you not in tears just five minutes ago?” he fought back, crossing his arms. You frowned, mouth opening and closing at a loss of words. He had you there.

           “Y/n…is this true?” Namjoon whispered, and you found yourself panicking. You swear you’re going to kill Jimin and Taehyung-

           You rushed to form words, a string of incoherent sounds leaving you – just digging yourself in a greater and greater hole. Namjoon stared as you fumbled to think, and it was that look in his eyes that had you shutting up – because it was the lack of words in this case that spoke loud enough.

           “It just- it just doesn’t make sense.” Namjoon breathed, letting his being fall onto the couch in disbelief. Taehyung’s body bounced at the sudden drop of Namjoon, and he immediately rose his brows in surprise at seeing his elder brother so awestruck. He watched as Namjoon ran his hands through his hair, before rubbing his neck in deep thought. Namjoon was thinking – he knows something.

           Taehyung slouched over to Namjoon, curiously, seemingly noticing the same thing you picked up on. “I heard Seokjin went to talk with our grandfather a few weeks ago…does that have something to do with this?” Taehyung asked.

           Zeus? Why would he do that, he wasn’t due for another wine delivery for a few weeks-

           Namjoon griped under his breath, puckering as he stared up at everyone’s expression. Jimin’s arm snaked around your shoulder, pulling you close, his fingers playing with the ends of your hair. “Is there something we don’t know?” Jimin questioned.

           Namjoon let out another sigh as if he was debating with himself- “Y/n…are you-are you certain about Seokjin?” You exhaled, the tips of your wings cowering even lower, grazing Jimin’s arm.

           “I-I thought we were okay. But the more I think about it, Seokjin’s been distant. He’s there for a moment, and just as we connect, he pulls. It’s like he’s on his toes, on edge. Like something is bothering him.”

           “Namjoon, if you know something-” Jimin edged, and Namjoon nodded.

           “I do, but it’s not what you guys think.”

           “Meaning?” you inquired, and Namjoon rubbed his chin.

           “Meaning – I thought you love-butterflies were betrothed.”

           Jimin and Taehyung almost dropped to the floor before snapping their heads back in your direction. Your eyes widen, hearing those words leave Namjoon’s lips. Was this some sort of joke? But the way Namjoon hunched forward, his expression nothing short of sombre.

           He’s serious. Namjoon genuinely thinks that you and Seokjin-

           “What gave you the idea that we’re betrothed?” you blubbered, rubbing your temples with your thumbs, trying to conjure up the vaguest idea of Namjoon’s logic. Your wings twitched in annoyance, completely caught off guard. Namjoon was the smart one, the brains of the family – but that was undoubtedly the silliest thing you have heard to date.

           Jimin brushed his locks, just as flustered, “Care to elaborate?”

           “Seokjin told me he was due to propose. I reckoned you were keeping silent until you set a date. I didn’t know this was going on. I thought you were happy.” Namjoon reasoned, and you let out a bitter laugh. “Fine? It seems like we’ve been anything but fine.” You huffed, crossing your arms.

           Marriage?

           Propose?

           If only-

           “And Seokjin said he was going to propose to y/n?” Taehyung inquired, and Namjoon’s mouth opened, but he didn’t utter a single word. His lips came to a close, head tilting as he thought long and hard.

           And at that moment, you felt it. The way your heart twisted, stomach squeezing painfully tight – as if someone kicked you in the gut.

           “He wasn’t talking about me when he said propose…was he?” You blurted, biting your lips to hold back to wave of tears threatening to explode. Your skin felt like it was on fire – cheeks flushed, a cold sweat rising as embarrassment took its course through your veins.

           Never, in your life, have you felt as stupid as you did now.

           “I need to go; please enjoy your lunch.” You pressed, forcing a smile to emerge on your face, not bothering to make it reach your eyes. Jimin swore under his breath, grabbing your hand as you tried desperately to turn on your heels, escaping his grasp.

           “Halt, you’re staying right here. I refuse to believe that Seokjin would do this. He loves you; we love you. You’re practically our mother-” Jimin fumed, Namjoon standing from his spot, nodding in agreeance.

           “There has to be a misunderstanding.”

           “I think Seokjin doesn’t appreciate y/n. Who leaves their partner behind for an overnight trip without saying a word?” Taehyung grumbled, crossing his arms as he slumped deeper into the couch. Jimin pouted, letting his fingers trail up your face, squeezing your chin, “I agree. Seokjin doesn’t appreciate you at all…after everything you’ve done for us.”

           “It’s fine. I guess-I guess…” the words left the tip of your tongue, but you couldn’t finish your sentence. What were you going to do? Were you going to let six hundred years go down the drain?

           But if he doesn’t love you anymore, what more can you do?

           He said it countless times; he wanted you to fly. Spread those butterfly wings of yours wide, explore the world and be free.

           “I think it’s time I let him fly…” You whispered, and Jimin’s touch rose, wiping the small tear that fell down your cheek. “No, I refuse to see you hurt like this, y/n.” Jimin hummed, and Namjoon’s hand slipped over Jimin’s shoulder.

           “I agree, y/n. There isn’t another being who Seokjin loves as much as you.”

           “You two are the perfect pair, taught us that true love does exist.”

           “I bet this is one huge misunderstanding.” Namjoon reasoned. Jimin tangled his hand into your locks, bringing you into his chest, your wings laying flat. You smiled in his dark coloured robes, sniffling.

           His warm scent filled your nostrils, the cuddle-bug of the family. How you adored Jimin’s embraces, the only person who could fill the current void in your heart whenever Seokjin wasn’t around.

           “Hoseok is going to be here soon, with his bumblebee.” You mumbled into his clothing, and Jimin shrugged. His arms still tightly wrapped around your figure, and you realized that Taehyung, at some point, stood as well. His touch was lingering up and down your hair, humming softly. “Let’s make this quick. You talk with Seokjin, ask him what’s going on.” Jimin muttered into your locks.

           “Do I mention the proposal?”

           Taehyung spoke up from behind, “If you do, Seokjin might get mad at Namjoon for speaking out of turn.” Namjoon huffed, rubbing his chin in thought. Taehyung had a point, the last thing you wanted was to get the brothers more tangled up in this mess than needed.

           This was between you and Seokjin.

           “You’re right…I guess I should confront him about everything else…”

           “Or give him an ultimatum.” Taehyung proposed.

           Everyone’s attention piqued at his words, and you pulled away from Jimin’s comforting embrace to watch Taehyung. Your wings titled back slightly in curiosity, studying the way he strolled over to his wine corner, grabbing a glass by the neck, and a wine bottle.

           You watched as the striking God effortlessly pulled the cork, pouring the dark coloured wine. The liquid dripped into the glass, the red so pigmented, it almost looked purple – fitting as it matched the very colour Taehyung wore at the moment.

           He lifted the cup smoothly to his plump lips, humming as he stole a sip.

           “Three Weeks.” Taehyung droned as he drank. He let his tongue lick his bottom lip, not daring to waste a single drop of his Xinomavro wine, enjoying the plum-like flavours.

           “Give him three weeks to prove himself to you. And if he fails – then you leave because you deserve someone far better. Someone who will kiss the very ground you walk upon and watch in awe when you flutter those stunning wings of yours.”

           You found yourself breathless, hearing the beautiful words leave Taehyung. But the look on his face was stern; he meant what he said, with all his heart.

           “Or she could just confront Seokjin, do a little something called communication,” Namjoon argued, but you found your head shaking, because while you agreed some good-old fashion communication was key here- it wasn’t enough.

           The truth was, you have asked Seokjin about his strange behaviour multiple times. But since he never responded or acknowledged such, you figured you were the one going crazy.

           “Deal.” You whispered towards Taehyung, and he rose his wine glass, walking over to were you stood, cuddled with Jimin. He placed the cup into your hand, whatever was leftover swishing.

           Taehyung piercing eyes stared, signalling you to take a sip, and without a second thought, you brought the very cup Taehyung just had his lips wrapped upon to yours. The acidic flavours mixed with plums hit your tongue with a burst, the taste rich.

           “Three weeks.” You mumbled between sips, mind swirling.

           “Seokjin has three weeks to prove his love. And if he starts putting in the effort, and I see a change, even a tiny bit, I’ll stay. But if he doesn’t – I’ll fly. Higher than ever before.”

           A tired sigh left your lips, tossing your white coloured shawl over your shoulder as you wandered through the fields of tall grass, spotting your shared home with Seokjin just a few minutes away. The thought of letting the sweaty robes from your body drop onto the marble floors, soaking in a warm bath, had you mewling in delight.

           Your arms stretched high above you, fingertips reaching into the sky, relishing the sensation of your muscles expanding and liberating all of the tension from today. Aimlessly, you surveyed how the setting sun cast shadows along the hedge – elongated figures of the trees and flowers adorning the ground underneath your feet.

           A drained smile emerged on your face, another moan leaving as you let your wings extend fully. Your wings were begging for rest, flapping away without a second to rest as you worked.

           Today was one of the rare days you got to work with Hoseok’s partner in crime – the sweetest honey-nymph you’ve met. Her warm personality, giggles just as fresh as the honey she produced. They were a match made by Aphrodite – a perfect pair.

           You were reluctant at first to let your wings free in front of new people, the brothers an exception. As, more often than not, they startled others. But Hoseok’s sweet bumblebee had you dropping your insecurities in seconds, raving about how she envied you – wishing she had a pair of spectacular wings like yourself.

           The corner of lips tugged upwards, remembering her face of pure enthusiasm reminded you of someone else – Seokjin. Your eyes widen in disbelief, realizing where you currently were, the giant tree with red coloured leaves catching your attention.

           This was where you first met Seokjin, the day you fell in love with him.

           You were hunched over in this very spot, crying your eyes out as one of your butterfly colonies was almost destroyed in a thunderstorm – courtesy of one of Zeus’s fits of rage. You felt their pain, the butterflies mourning their losses at the lightening that just so happened to strike near them. It was as you were crying over the dead carcasses, tears staining, you felt a hand on your head, a gentle voice humming to you.

           ‘Are you okay?’

           You let out a small snicker, shaking your head as you brushed back your hair behind your ears – the memories of that faithful day washing over you. The sun was starting to hide behind the red-coloured tree – a halo emerging.

           It was those three simple words – three simple words that would be the start of your budding romance. Never, have you met someone as handsome, or prideful, as Seokjin. He had a look etched on his face that day; brows pinched together as he watched over your desperate figure with a look of attentiveness.

           You’d never felt as self-conscious about yourself more than that moment – having someone as astonishingly handsome as him, standing above you. Your wings were cradling your body, cowering at his presence.

           While you didn’t know who he was precisely – you did know that he was a God at the very least. He wiped the tears that stained your cheeks with the palms of his hands, cooing as you cried. You could vividly remember how soft his skin was against yours, like butter.

           It was terrifying.

           Your stomach in knots, panicking internally because, at that moment, a God was comforting you. An act of humility completely unheard of till the Great Brothers, the Gods of Grapes, came to grace this realm. Dionysus’s sons, they truly changed the playing field in Mount Olympus.

           ‘T-they died’ were the only words you managed to fumble out, struggling to string together the remainder of your sentence, ‘Zeus’ thunderstorm.’

           Somehow, Seokjin understood the words you choked, nodding his head. And you could still vaguely remember the slight shock hearing the words he said afterwards, ‘I will speak with Zeus. But for now, let us mourn.’

           Little, did you know, he genuinely meant it – both things. That not even a few hours later, he went straight to Zeus, demanding that he aims his thunder elsewhere. How his hands were filthy, soil stuck underneath his nails as he helped dig shallow graves for your sweet butterflies.

           You found yourself still in front of the tree, smiling to yourself.

           God – you were in love with this man.

           But why did he have to be so frustrating?

           Where was the God who would wake up early to cook breakfast because he merely could? Or the God who squealed for two hours straight because he couldn’t get past the fact that Hoseok was in love with a honey-nymph, and that meant getting over his fear of insects?

           You snorted to yourself, remembering how long it took Seokjin to get over his fear of butterflies. For someone terrified of nature itself, he sure had a lot of balls to get that close up to you when your wings were in full display, to comfort you.

           The confidence of a God, that’s for sure.

           In the midst of laughing by yourself at the flashing memories, oblivious to the soft sounds of grass crunching behind you, hands fell over your eyes from behind, your wings fluttering in surprise and trapping the figure that stood behind. A gaudy laugh boomed from their lips – like a sweet song sung by Eros.

           “Seokjin~!” You gasped, knowing all too well of the gentle touch and rumbling.

           He continued laughing as your wings fluttered around his body, displaying the happiness in your heart to hear his sweet voice once again. His touch left your face, a content hum leaving his lips, “Mm, you guessed correct, my sweet butterfly.” He mused, and in a flash, you twirled.

           Seeing his black hair ruffled from the wind, you spurred on – the handsome smile on his face as his eyes crinkled. His laugh lines were prominent, his white robes making him appear more God-like as if that was possible. It should be a crime to be as handsome as him, the red-orange hues of the dipping sun casting shadows over his faultless features.

           But just a quick at your heart swelled with pleasure, a flash of annoyance bubbled – and the look didn’t go unnoticed. Seokjin quickly raised a brow at the sudden shift in mood, and you felt your hands ball into fists.

           “You left me!” You squealed, and Seokjin pouted.

           “Sorry, my butterfly. I misunderstood, I thought the trip would be short-”

           “Seokjin, if your brother didn’t tell me, I would’ve been sitting here, waiting for our date – two days ago!” You lectured, and Seokjin grimaced, realizing the seriousness in your tone. No way were you going to let this slide—the icing on the cake for the weirdness in his actions these past few weeks.

           He let out a weary sigh, raising his hand.

           You felt the way his fingers traced down your features, letting himself memorize your appearance to his heart's content. Down the bridge of your nose, to the cupid of your lips. “I’m remorseful. It was uncalled for.” Seokjin whispered, and you could tell by the way his gaze dipped he meant it.

           Your shoulders slumped, your wings no longer in full span – in a defensive stance. They dropped, curving inwards as you hugged your shoulders. “Don’t leave unannounced like that again, please. I was worried. I thought I did something wrong.” You whispered, and Seokjin eyes widen at the news.

           “You did nothing wrong – don’t think that.”

           “You’ve been acting strange, Seokjin. It’s like…something is on your mind.” Seokjin let out a heavy breath, running his hands through his hair in frustration. “That obvious?” he muttered, and you puckered. You rose your hands, cupping his face to rest in your palms. Seokjin did look tired – exhausted. It was like a thousand things were running through his mind.

           “You need a drink.” You teased softly, earning a silly smile to emerge. He brushed his face into your touch, groaning as you caressed his cheeks, his touch leaving your face and grasping your shoulders.

           “I’m sorry. I think Yoongi’s stoic nature is getting to me.”

           “You went with him to the human realm?”

           “Mhmm, and it seems a bit of him rubbed off on me.”

           “Hmm, I would agree, but you’ve been acting like this for some time, now – Jin…” You whispered, and you seemed to have caught his full attention. With a tongue in cheek expression, he cheekily spoke. “No longer mad? Saying my nickname?”

           You blushed, flicking his nose before yanking your touch from him.

           “Shush, Jin. I’m still mad.” You grumbled, crossing your arms as you turned on your heel. You stomped forward, walking in the direction of your home, and you could hear Seokjin snorting behind.

           “Oh, come on, you know you love me. How can you not love this handsome face?” Jin teased, letting his hands rest behind your hips. A shiver ran up your spine, his touch falling far too close to the juncture of your wings, and the goosebumps that rose on your skin didn’t go unnoticed.

           “Come on, let me show you how much I love you. I missed you – missed that sweet voice of yours.” He purred, letting his hot breath fan, his fingers playing with the soft hairs of your wings. You blushed at how quick your breath hitched, a hot sweat painting your skin at the teasing touch.

           “I have a wing to pick with you, first.” You huffed, trying to fight back the silent mewls of pleasure he was causing. It was the equivalent of running your hands through your hair after having it up in a bun all day – his long fingers delicately tracing the intricate patterns of yellow and blue on your wings.

           You felt your steps get smaller, trying to catch more of his touch, but the exasperation and the conversation with your lovely boys still haunted your mind.

           Three Weeks.

           “And what wing do you have with me, that you so wish to pick, rather than enjoy the pleasure I can undo upon you.” Seokjin bantered, and that alone had your crack – almost. Because as much as you loved this man, his cheesy pick-up lines, his prideful nature – the frustrations he has inflicted upon you this past month was uncalled for.

           And you weren’t going to let it slide.

           “Come on; it can’t be that bad. Not something a little vitamin-Me can’t fix.” Seokjin laughed from behind, and you rolled your eyes at his stupidity. You stopped walking, his figure bumping into your wings, catching his frailing arms in between.

           Looking over your shoulder, your brows pinched together with a stern expression. “Seokjin.” You said point-blank, and you saw the goofy smile on his face change ultimately.

           “My sweet butterfly…what’s wrong?”

           “I’m truthful; you’ve been…different. And I don’t know if its work, but I don’t appreciate how it is affecting us.” You spoke honestly, and Seokjin's expression shifted right away. He forced you to turn on your heel to face him, his forehead pressed against yours as he cupped your jaw.

           “I don’t think I’ve been acting that strange,” Seokjin muttered, and your eyes widen. “Seokjin, this is the most time we’ve spent together before you rush off.”

           “Not true-”

           “Oh, really?”

           “Yes, really. Did we not go on a date just last week?”

           “Yes, and after twenty minutes of pampering in Aphrodite’s spa, you left because ‘you had to ensure the grapes in your winery was okay.’” You refuted, and Seokjin’s mouth twisted to a frown.

           “Fine, how about the date before? I took you to the lovely seas of Poseidon for a romantic seafood dinner.”

           “Which lasted, yet again, for twenty minutes because you wanted to ensure ‘Poseidon’s wines haven’t spoiled.’” The colour from Seokjin’s face drained, realizing that with every argument he rose – you broke it down to pieces. It was like he was scared to spend more than twenty minutes with you.

           You’re surprised he didn’t run off again.

           “Jin…” you whispered tenderly, letting your hands rise to his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath your touch. You were tired of him continually raising a point, just for you to counter and a pained expression to emerge as a result.

           You didn’t want to fight, you wanted a change in pace, to express your feelings of how you felt. “I love you, Jin, so much. But you’ve been acting strange. And it worries me. I feel like-I feel like you don’t love me anymore.”

           “Don’t be ridiculous, y/n. Of course, I love you. Listen, my butterfly. I’ve been foolish, Athena would be furious. And I promise, starting tonight – I’ll be the God you deserve, the God you fell in love with.” He proclaimed, and you couldn’t help but smile at his words. Because you could tell with your heart, the way his eyes lit with a burning passion – he meant it.

           It was like the air around him changed, his shoulders squaring up as he proclaimed proudly.

           Your noses touched, rubbing in excitement as your wings fluttered happily. “That is all I want, Jin. I want the old you back. And if you need help with work or someone to talk, I’m here. I’ve always been here, Jin. I want to help.” You whispered, your lips brushing against each other.

           He nodded, letting his hands bring your jaw closer to his face. His lips brushed against yours, envious of how soft and juicy his were in comparison, like clouds in the sky.

           “I know you’re here. I’ve been acting silly, far from a God. And I apologize.”

           “Apology accepted, now kiss me, I yearn for your touch.” You whispered, and Jin grinned, shaking his head. “I will after you accept my promise.”

           “Which is?”

           “I’ll prove to you, in these three weeks alone- how much I love you. Sweep you off your feet higher than your wings could ever.” Your breath hitched, finding the irony in his statement – three weeks.

           “It’s a promise, Jin. Now kiss me.” You moaned, pressing your lips against his.

           He beamed, watching the way your wings cradled around your forms, trying desperately to push yourself up against his body as much as you could. His shoulders encompassed your physique, as your lips moved in a sweet dance.

           And, for the first time in months – you felt that connection that you thought was gone.

           Three weeks.

           You could hear it, feel it – as clear as day.

           The sounds of trickling water, the soft grass under your feet. Even the strong smell of flowers and the distinct sound of harps stringing smooth tunes. The environment felt romantic in nature, skin a blushing pink hearing the feminine whispers around you.

           There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that the women weren’t conversing about you and your lover of a God.  Yet, you couldn’t, for the life of you – pinpoint where you were.

           Jin chuckled into your ear, his hands still firmly wrapped around your eyes, enjoying how you struggled to guess. Your wings were hidden entirely at the moment, two small tattoos lining the curvature of your back as Seokjin led you forward.

           “No more guesses? Gave up already?” Seokjin teased, and you pouted.

           “I’m trying to think.”

           “You need a brain to think.”

           “Jin~!” You yelped in annoyance, earning another laugh from the playful God behind you. He placed a chaste kiss on your neck, “I’m just joking, you’re as smart of Namjoon.”

           “Now you’re just trying to butter me up.”

           “There’s no winning with you, is there?” Seokjin pestered, and you snorted at the genuine hint of hurt in his tone. Your hands fell over his, eager to rip them off your face to find out where Seokjin was taking you.

           It was driving you mad.

           This whole morning, till now – he wouldn’t shut up about the surprise he had planned for you. And he was insistent on covering your eyes during the whole event because he didn’t want you to guess until you got here.

           “Jin, come on- can I please see?” You asked, but it was a musical laugh, a laugh so beautiful that had you connecting all the pieces.

           “You truly are a playful pair, youthful in nature. How I envy you both.”

           Seokjin’s hands left your face, and in a flash, you bowed down the bomb-shell of a Goddess in front of you. Her long blond locks cascaded down her back, beautiful beach waves glistening under the sunlight. A single finger laid over her red lips, a sly smile on her face as she giggled over you both.

           “My Goddess, it’s a pleasure.” You whispered, and she nodded, “It is a pleasure to serve any of Dionysus’ Sons, and his special someone.” She purred, stepping forward. Her fingernails dragged along your face, taking in your appearance with a happy smile.

           “You truly are one of my finest matches…I picked well for you, Seokjin. Wouldn’t you agree?” Seokjin chuckled from behind, his hands falling over your shoulders, “I couldn’t imagine myself with anyone else, but my sweet butterfly.”

           “Oh, the romance~.” Aphrodite sang, stepping back with a twist of her hips. She swung her hand high in the air, nymphs running to her aid immediately with oils and silks. “Please guide my dear guests to my private springs. Let them rinse themselves clean before indulging them with a massage and mask. I want them leaving here completely renewed.” She hummed, skipping away with joy in each step.

           Your mouth dropped – her private springs?

           Only her most celebrated and trusted companions receive such an honour. You found your lips ready to move, to proclaim your thanks for her gracious hospitality, but she beat you to it.

           She gazed over her bare shoulder, licking her lips in delight as she winked playfully, “Also, ensure you give these lovers privacy during their time in the springs. I want them to feel like they’re at the comforts of their home, free to express their sensuality to the fullest.”

           The heat that rose to your cheeks at her words had you unable to breathe, and Aphrodite laughed at your expression.

           “Enjoy.”

           The nymphs danced towards you both, linking their arms with yours, urging you in the right direction. You looked over at Seokjin, noticing the nymphs hastily sending him off towards the other side of the spring.

           “You’ll reconnect in the spring.” A nymph sang into your ear, and you nodded, swallowing hard.

           Why do you have a feeling Aphrodite had something naughty up her sleeve?

             The stunning blues and yellows of your wings were in full display, curved around your naked body as you entered into the water.

           How you hated getting your wings wet, despite the beautiful reflections it cast in the still water. Like a starry blue-hued night, the yellows specs reminding you of the wandering planets that graced the heavens above. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that after this bath, you would need to sun-bath in an attempt to dry your wings.

           The luke-warm water hit your hips, your wings opening a touch, no longer eager to hide your naked body. Your hair covered your breasts, and with a final gasp, you let your knees buckle, dipping into the depths.

           A soft moan of contentment escaped your lips, enjoying the feeling of warmth around your body, completely weightless. Your hair floated around you, the tips of your wings peeping out from under.

           “Enjoying yourself?” A deep voice growled from beside you, and you jumped.

           Seokjin was still standing tall, blocking the sun from hitting your face. Your mouth dropped shamelessly, pink tainting your cheeks as your eyes raked up his body. Those broad shoulders, droplets of water falling from his hair as the sunlight made his skin glow.

           “How long were you there for?” You gasped, and Seokjin shrugged his shoulders, letting his body sink into the water leisurely. “Long enough to see you hide your body with your wings. A shame, because I was expecting a show.”

           You pouted at his words, standing slightly in the water, so only the tops of your breasts were insight. The naughty grin on Seokjin’s face as he swam closer towards you, letting his arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into his grasp. Naturally, your legs wrapped around his waist, allowing your feet to tangle with his legs, and a shy blush coated your cheeks, realizing he was just as bare as you.

           “What’s wrong? Feel something you like?” Seokjin teased, and you hid your face into his neck, squirming your hips feeling his semi-erect cock against your core. It has been a while since you two have been intimate. He was so busy this past month that you were lucky to see him in the mornings, let alone when you came to bed.

           You grumbled under your breath, letting your arms wrap around his neck, “You’re a hand full.”

           “Good thing, you have two hands.” Seokjin spiritedly bantered back, earning a small giggle from you.

           You pulled back, letting your noses touch in delight. “You planned all of this…?”

           “I wanted us to re-do our last date. The first step of us starting anew, although being naked in the spring, was Aphrodite’s idea, not mine...” Seokjin hummed, his eyes falling shut for a moment.

           He indeed looked stunning out here in the spring.

           The definition of a God-like appearance, even Aphrodite gushed to Dionysus, how handsome all his sons were, particularly Seokjin. Everything about him was perfect, from his smile to his nose, his shoulders, to his cute little toes. You breathed in deeply, taking in his fresh scent, a perfect mix of green fruit with a touch of citrus.

           He let his body float, carrying you with him, and it wasn’t long until you found yourself near the fall, resting against the rocks. Your head snuggled deep into his neck, moaning as you took another deep inhale.

           “I miss your wine…” You whispered breathlessly because that was precisely how he smelt – that white wine of his, Roditis.

           Your lips brushed against his neck, feeling the way his pulse fastened in pace, hearing your words. Just from his scent alone, you felt drunk. Taking a sip of Taehyung’s wine a few days ago made you forget how much you yearned for Seokjin’s.

           And there was more than just one way to get your fill.

           Your hands ran over his broad shoulders, feeling the way his muscles relaxed under the pressure of working, before trailing down his chest, “I love you, y/n. And I apologize for neglecting you.” Seokjin whispered slightly strangled, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he felt your hands dip further down his chest.

           You could feel him hardening further against you, sliding perfecting between your lips, and poking your sensitive clit. “Mmm, it’s okay, you were stressed with work. I understand, just please, don’t neglect me in such a way again. It hurt.”

           “It was not work that caused this, butterfly. I’ve meant to tell you something, ask you something.” Seokjin grunted, as you feverishly planted kisses up his neck. His eyes rolled back, his hands falling over your hips as he nudged forward.

           You moaned as you placed another wet kiss against his jaw, moving your way up to his lips. He was fully erect, bucking against yourself, and you could feel the slickness between your legs grow. “How I missed your touch.” He breathed, and you smiled, watching as he opened his eyes, in a complete daze.

           His breath was heavy, hands carefully rubbing up against your back, fingers teasing the base of your wings. He grinned, watching how you squirmed on top of him, mewling at the touch. It felt so good, your mind whirling as your hands dug into his pelvis, helplessly bucking against his cock.

           “Seokjin-”

           “I know I want you.” He groaned, and you couldn’t help but shake your head.

           “Let me treat you.” You whispered, and he rose a brow, not understanding your words. “Why do such a thing? After how I treated you this month-”

           Your hands dropped, fingers playfully falling over the veins of erection, wrapping around him. His head tossed backwards, groaning as you temptingly jerked under the water, thumb brushing his swollen head.

           “You apologized, and you planned this date. Let me show you my gratitude for listening to my words.”

           “How?”

           “Sit on top of the rocks.” You nudged, letting go of his length, and pushing backward. He watched how you nibbled on your lip in delight, excited to do such a thing, in public.

           You were a bit of a prune, traditional – not nearly as adventurous or curious as Taehyung or Jimin. But being here in Aphrodite’s domain, added a bit of spice and romance in the air, the need to try something different and exciting entering your mind.

           You watched as Seokjin stood for a moment, before sitting himself on a rock, his legs dangling over into the water - his erection standing tall between his legs. His skin was flushed, watching as pearls of water dripped down his length – your mouth watering.

           Without sparing a moment, you inched your way forward, standing slightly.

           Seokjin watched with interest, seeing your wings twitch in delight, as you leaned over his crotch. Your hands slide up your body, brushing your hair behind before letting your fingers dance underneath your breasts.

           “And what is my butterfly planning on doing?” Seokjin groaned, taking in the sight of your naked body before him to the fullest. The thoughts that ran through his mind, memorizing every curve and beauty mark that littered your skin. He couldn’t understand in the slightest how you weren’t a Goddess. Everything about you was perfect in his eyes.

           From the way you shyly blushed, how your fingers twirled over your skin. A work of art-

           “I saw the way you were eyeing my chest…” You blushed, and Seokjin merely grinned, not at all embarrassed of being caught doing such a thing.

           “I can’t help it – your breasts are my weakness.”

           “I know…so I thought it would fun to try something new, something like this?” You mused, cupping your mounds in your hands. With his legs spread wide, your body eased between him.

           You let your breasts fall over him, his cock perfectly nestled in between and the groan that Seokjin let out had you pressing your thighs together. His head tossed back for a moment, running his hands through his hair at the sensation of your warm mounds, pressed tightly around his leaking cock.

           Another bead of pre-cum dribbled from his slit, and you couldn’t help but dip your head down, tongue lapping. The taste of his wine hit you at full force.

           It was intoxicating – addicting.

           “So good.” You purred without realizing it, taking another long lick along his slit. Seokjin’s hand fell over your head, fingers tangling themselves into your hair, ripping you from your trance. His expression was strangled, observing with heavy eyes the erotic sight in front of him.

           Spit dribbled from your mouth, a natural lube that dripped down your breasts, slowly raising them up and down his shaft. “Shit.” Seokjin groaned, his free hand digging into the dirt around him, he was already about to lose it.

           The sight of seeing Seokjin struggling to keep his composure, after doing nothing, had your confidence soaring. Your touch moved up your breasts, your fingers playing with your perky nipples as a poor attempt of pleasure. Seokjin grunted, seeing how turned on you were, bucking his hips to meet your slow bounces.

           Your hot skin against his cock, your saliva lubing his shaft as you sprung your breasts up and down. “You’re going to end me, y/n.” Seokjin moaned, his pelvis tensing the further you pressed your mounds together.

           Daringly, you continued to let your tongue tease the head that would pop from between the valley of your chest before wrapping your lips entirely. Seokjin jerked, his head tossed against the rock, struggling to keep it together. You watched how his toes curled, pulling on your hair, urging you further.

           You let yourself drown in his pleasure, teasingly running along the underside of his erection, tracing the thick vein that ran up his length.

           “Shit, I’m not going to last long.” Seokjin huffed breathlessly, and you couldn’t help but giggle, the vibration driving Seokjin wild.

           “Aah- a whole month without your touch – a-and now you expect me to l-aah-ast between your breasts, like this?” Seokjin moaned, thrusting his hips as you picked up the pace. You let your nipples roll between your fingers, panting as you bobbed up and down, lips engulfing whatever your mounds failed to capture.

           “Don’t hold back; I want you.” You whispered between full lips, and Seokjin hissed. He saw the look of desire in your eyes, your wings fully extended, and he knew that was a sign of your attentiveness – your need.

           Lost in moving up and down his shaft, drinking up his pre-cum, you failed to notice how his hand left your hair, reaching forward. You let out a whiny moan, eyes rolling back as you instinctively squished your breasts together, tugging on your nubs – Seokjin letting out a grunt in return.

           His hand reached to touch the tips of wings, his fingers running through the tiny hairs that decorated them, “Th-they’re sensitive.” You whimpered, moving down his cock faster the further he dragged his touch.

           “I know,” Seokjin smirked, another grunt escaping his lips as he bucked in the pace of your movements. Your eyes fluttered close, struggling to maintain the speed as your lips sucked. The feeling of his vigilant touch, hearing him whimper underneath you as you lapped desperately.

           “Mmm, I’m going to lose it.” Seokjin panted, seeing his chest flush to a red. His thighs were tensing around you, holding you in place as he bit his lips. His thrusts were sloppy, and you felt the way his cock pulsated.

           “In my mouth?” You hummed, eyes opening to meet his gaze.

           He looked beyond fucked, brows pinched together, groaning as your gazes met. “No, all over your breasts.”

           You grinned, no longer letting your lips wrap around him, your tongue lolling out. The wet muscle laid flat along the underside of his erection, humming as you moved down against him.

           “Cum for me then, paint me.” You whispered, and that seemed to do the trick.

           His back arched, stilling for a moment before his cock twitched - the first spurt of cum landing on your tongue. You moaned at the sensation of the sticky substance, watching it trickle down from his leaking head, oozing its way down his shaft and onto your breasts.

           The sight itself was erotic, Seokjin moaning as he came over your fleshy mounds, you fucking him slowly as he rode his high. Another spurt of cum flew into the air, landing on your face, the remainder painting your chest. Your tongue darted out hungrily, moaning at the flavour that painted your palette – his delicious wine.

           “Mmm, so good.” You whined in delight, not caring in the least at the messy state you were. And Seokjin didn’t seem to care either, his face red, panting as you worked his cock leisurely. His muscles twitched slightly, signalling he was starting to get sensitive, and only then did you pull away.

           You let your hands slip from your breasts, bouncing and hanging low once again, painted with his essence.

           “Shit, I never came that fast before.” Seokjin laughed breathlessly, running his hands through his hair. You giggled, letting a finger run down your chest, picking up the sticky substance to your lips. Moaning as you stole another taste, Seokjin grunted at the view.

           “Want more?” Seokjin teased, and you flushed at his words.

           “Maybe later tonight.” You shyly giggled, stepping back from his legs. He released another drained breath, watching him slowly softened, before falling back into the water. “It seems like Aphrodite’s domain got to us.”

           “I don’t know what came over me; I just wanted you.” You whispered, diving back into the water, washing away whatever remnants of his seed that was beginning to dry over your skin. Seokjin grinned, wrapping his hands over your hips and bringing you closer, snuggling his head closer into your neck.

           You relaxed in his touch, sighing contently, feeling him pepper kisses. “What did you wish to ask me earlier, before we…diverged.” You giggled into his ear, his kisses tickling you. But the moment the question left your lips, he kisses stopped, tensing.

           Seokjin pulled away slightly, a forced smile appearing on his face. “Nothing important.” He hurriedly spoke.

           Too fast.

           His pitch was oddly squeaky, and you couldn’t help but narrow your eyes. He’s lying – and he’s a terrible liar.

           “Tell me, Jin. You know I won’t judge.” You gently encouraged, smiling as you placed a kiss on his neck. But rather than him easing into your embrace, you felt him stiffen further, retreating from the sweet gesture. You felt your heart ache, hurt by the rejection as Seokjin’s face flashed with conflicting emotions.

           “Forgot it, y/n. Let it go.” He spoke sternly.

           In a flash, you jerked back, shoving him and swimming away from his lap.

           “Seokjin, what’s wrong with you? You just apologized for pushing me away all this time, we just shared a moment, and now you’re pushing me away again!” You grumbled, annoyed at his fickleness.

           You did not just pleasure him as you did for the sake of doing it – out of lust. It was because you felt the spark once again, felt the man you fell in love with. But the man who was currently in front of you changed once again, right before your eyes.

           Seokjin’s expression softened, swearing under his breath, seeing the hurt in your eyes. “You’re right, I’m sorry – I just-trust me; it’s nothing important. I thought now would be a good time to mention it, but it isn’t. Forgive me.” Seokjin spoke honestly, and you could tell in the look in his eyes he was remorseful.

           His arms outstretched before you, urging you to take his hands with your own.

           Hesitantly, you let him pull you back into his embrace, dragging you closer towards him and into his chest. And as you placed your head onto his torso, you couldn’t push away the uneasiness in your gut.

           The romantic touch in the air was gone; the butterflies of love replaced with an uncomfortable trace.

           “I’m sorry, my butterfly. That was rude of me.”

           “It was…” You grumbled, trying to find that comfortable spot in his embrace. But no matter how much you squirmed, you couldn’t. A piece of trust you had given him, ripped in half, and Seokjin seemed to notice it as well.

           “Give me one more chance to make it up to you. Let’s re-do our sea-side dinner, date? Since I messed up this date beyond repair.” Seokjin whispered with regret. You pulled back, a troubled pout on your lips.

           “You promise you won’t push me away again, like right now?”

           “I promise my butterfly. Give me another chance. Please?’

           Two weeks left.          

           “…fine.” You meekly answered a tinge of hesitance in your voice. Because as annoyed and hurt as you were, you could still see the man you wanted in his eyes.

           Seokjin was trying, although failing, he was trying.

           “Thank you; you won’t regret it, my butterfly,” Seokjin whispered.

           Little did you two know that Aphrodite stood off to the side, a large frown on her face.

           “You’re a fool, Seokjin. I gave you a chance, and you blew it.” She whispered under her breath, pinching her nose in frustration. How she hated showing such a negative emotion – it did nothing but add wrinkles to her proclaim skin.

           But how exasperated Aphrodite was – words couldn’t even begin to capture her state of mind. She twirled on her heel, beckoning her nymphs towards her.

           They all rushed to her side, eagerly awaiting her word.

           “Tell Poseidon that Seokjin failed. That I am entrusting him with this task. If Seokjin waits any longer – he won’t have a lover to propose.”

             How envious you were of the colours that painted Poseidon’s domain.

           The mermaids all sported vibrant tails, colours of pinks and purples, some green and blue. They sang to their heart's content, voices low and sultry. Every single one of them had bedroom eyes – despite doing nothing more but brushing each other's hair with the shells they collected.

           Their breasts were covered with their long hair, and the moment they saw you arriving, their smiles widen. “Wine delivery?” They sung, swimming towards the shoreline with curious looks in their eyes.

           You smiled sweetly back at them, shaking your head as you watched in awe as their bodies twisted in the deep-blue waters, the shells and pearls that adorned their hair glittering. There wasn’t a single mermaid that didn’t steal your breath – beings crafted in the art of seduction yet possessed the strength of a hundred men.

           Truly dangerous, but speculator beings.

           “Not tonight, the God of Roditis, Seokjin, wishes to take me on a date.” You smiled, brushing your hair back. Their eyes widen, giggling amongst each other before a mermaid swam forward. She leaned against the rocks, pulling her torso out of the water.

           “Come forward, butterfly-nymph, let me bless this date.” She purred, reaching into her hair, and drawing a single pearl clip from her locks. You blushed at her words, getting onto your knees and tilting forward.

           You felt her wet hands brush through the front of your locks, pining the pearl into your hair, finishing her task with a delicate kiss. You pulled back, cheeks rosy from the small peck she placed over your forehead.

           “How we all envy you. Capturing the heart of a God as splendid as him? What did you do to earn such a blessing from the great Goddess Aphrodite?” The mermaid sang.

           What did you do?

           If only they knew that this date was a way for Seokjin to apologize for the last time. You still couldn’t shake the slight frustration that pumped through your veins – annoyed at how quickly he was to push you as you asked a mere question.

           “A question better suited for Aphrodite, I assume.” You answered, and the mermaids all mused at your answer.

           “We envy, we envy~. How we would love to flutter high into the skies as you~.” They hummed, before swimming away back to their sun-bathing rocks.

           “Like a majestic bird?”

           “Or a buzzing bee?”

           “Of a colourful butterfly, meant to be free.” They rhymed together, and you laughed under your breath as you heard them sing with each other. If you didn’t know better, you would’ve fallen for their charm – swam in the water after them.

           Your robes moved against the seaside breeze; the smell of salt filling your senses as the sun was starting to set. A beautiful cast of red and oranges painted the water, adding to the illusion of the mermaids – they looked divine.

           “Enjoying yourself, my butterfly?” Seokjin mused from behind, and you smiled, seeing the man behind you.

           He looked handsome as always.

           His hair neatly brushed back, gold and warm furs over his shoulders as he outstretched his hand to you. It took seconds for him to notice the white adornment in your hair, him raising his fingers to touch the smooth pearl.

           “Only you could manage to make a pearl look dull.”

           “Oh, hush.” You pouted, shyly blushing at his words.

           And once again, the romantic connection between you both – the annoyance that you harboured for the week seemingly disappeared. As much as you tried to stay angry at Seokjin for the silliness he’s inflicted upon you the past week, now going onto two – the environment around you prevented such emotions.

           He was trying, and that was all you could honestly ask.

           Seokjin begged for forgiveness multiple times throughout the week, going as far as to cook your favourite breakfast, lunch and dinner almost every day. But you couldn’t push away that nagging itch; the need to know what he wanted to ask you.

           Could he want to propose?

           Or maybe Namjoon was mistaken after all.

           “Don’t fly off on me now.” Seokjin teased, tapping your cheek lovingly, capturing your attention once again. You could hear the mermaids giggling louder, and you looked over your shoulder to see them all bundled together, shooting you massive smiles and winks.

           “I think they fancy you more than me.”

           “You’re handsome, Jin, any of those mermaids would wish to lay by your side.”

           “And only you will ever have that honour,” Seokjin whispered into your ear, his fingers gracing your wings tenderly. A shiver ran up your spine, entertained by his words, enjoying the touch. “Now, let’s eat. Poseidon arranged a setting for us.”

           “He did?” You gasped in surprise, and Seokjin took your hand in his, pulling you behind. Your feet struggled to catch up to Seokjin’s pace, the way he fluently tracked through the wet rocks, leading us further into the waters.

           You heard about these secrets paths, trails of rocks that only Poseidon himself can summon whenever he wishes.

           They often lead one deep into the sea, and it took a moment to realize how far you two had wandered when the mountain range behind you seemed like a distant image, the mermaids' giggles and singing lost in the breeze. The water was still around you, an odd occurrence given how far into the sea you were.

           That was when you spotted the people before you.

           Her long wavy hair was kept together in a bun with a white net, light-pink silks draping over her body as she leaned into the man before her with a broad smile. The love in her eyes, laughing excitedly at whatever words her husband whispered into her ear.

            “Poseidon, God of the Seas, with his beautiful wife, the sea Goddess, Amphitrite.”

           They both turned at the sound of Seokjin’s voice, and right away, Amphitrite clapped her hands together, running forward.

           “Oh, what a pleasure! Young love, I prepared a table, my own doing.” Amphitrite gushed, bowing low before cupping Seokjin’s face in her hands. She placed a happy kiss on both cheeks, before dashing to your side.

           You’ve never met Poseidon’s wife before, but you heard the rumours.

           She was a complete romantic, best friends with Aphrodite. The similarity they bared were awfully close. If it weren’t for her brown locks and her hair in an up-do, you would’ve easily mistaken her for the Goddess of love and beauty. Her soft hands grazed your skin, placing warm kisses on both of your cheeks, and you couldn’t help but jump at the contact.

           The kindness the Gods displayed; it was strange.

           Aphrodite gave you her private spring to bathe, and now Poseidon has allowed you both to wander into the depths of his seas for dinner?

           “I am indebted to your kindness, Amphitrite. You did not have to go through all this trouble for a mere butterfly-nymph, like me.” You whispered, and she rolled her eyes.

           Her footsteps were light, not at all bothered by the slippery texture of the rocks beneath her feet. Her fingers fell over Poseidon’s chest, playing with the end curls of his long beard, “It was my pleasure, especially given the circumstance.” She chirped, and you arched a brow at her words.

           As if she spoke too much, Poseidon placed his hand over hers. “Enjoy your meal; the nymphs will come with fresh foods. Ask for what you so desire, and they shall serve. We will take our leave.” His voice rumbled like the water crashing along the shoreline, and with that simple statement alone, he raised his hand.

           A massive wave came rising from what seemingly felt, like out of nowhere, before crashing upon him and his endearing wife.

           Your eyes widen, expecting them to be soaked, but all you heard was the water crash against the rocks – their figures gone.

           “Show off.” Seokjin snickered under his breath, and you giggled in awe.

           The Gods, they all seemingly had tricks up their sleeves.

           “Let’s eat, the starting of my redemption arc.” Seokjin joked, before carefully gripping your hand, and moving you forward. You saw the small table set that Amphitrite constructed, and you had to give it to her – it was creative and well decorated.

           Handcrafted candles littered the area, coral and shells placed everywhere as decorations. The wines bottles that rested along the rocks, perfectly chilled from the waters. With ease, Seokjin grabbed two bottles, one white and one red.

           “Agiorgitiko or Roditis,” Seokjin asked, shaking the bottles to emphasize his point. You smiled, letting a finger fall over your lips as you thought.

           “Both go good with seafood…”

           “I would say my wine is far superior when paired with seafood.”

           “Is that a fact, or your cockiness?” You teased, and Seokjin grinned, “A bit of both.”

           “Let’s go with Namjoon’s; it’s been a while since I drunk his. I can drink yours any day.”

           “Don’t tempt me with that language, butterfly. Last time you said that it ended it quite an interesting way.” Seokjin groaned as memories of you between his legs; breasts wrapped his length flooded his mind.

           You smiled naughtily, waltzing towards him with fluttering wings, “If you behave tonight than maybe you can relive that fantasy once more.”

           Seokjin swore under his breath, bringing his hands to your face and planting a kiss over your lips. The corner of his mouth was curved upwards, moving his plump lips slowly against yours. You moaned, moving in sync with each other.

           Your hands fell over his shoulders, enjoying the sweet moment, feeling his tongue trace along your lips teasingly. “The nymphs are watching.” He whispered, proud to see the blush rise to your cheeks. Because he was right, as soon as you two pulled away, you saw the nymphs sitting on the rock side, seemingly unbothered at the sight of you sharing a kiss.

           To be fair, they’ve probably seen worse.

           Seokjin guided your hips to a chair at the makeshift table, pouring some wine as the nymphs moved around him, placing platters upon platters of fresh foods.

           Your eyes widen in delight, taking in the salty scent of the array of foods.

           Never have you seen as much food as you did at this very moment. Everything was bright in colour or cooked over a fire to a crispy golden brown. Not even Dionysus has this much food at his parties, and Poseidon expects you two to eat all of this?

           A single piece of shrimp popped in front of your lips, Seokjin smiling as he let the pink thing dangle in front of you. “It’s fresh, seasoned with lemon.”

           You opened your mouth, letting him plop the shrimp, and the moan you let out was as if you were currently experiencing an orgasm of a lifetime. Seokjin burst out laughing, seeing the expression on your face.

           “I feel insulted at the moment.” He chuckled, and you laughed, shaking your head in embarrassment. “That’s amazing, I’ve never tasted something as flavourful as that in my life.”

           “Wait till you try that crawfish or the squid. Poseidon does this interesting thing where he fries the fish in a batter.”

           “Fries?” You repeated in interest, and Seokjin’s eyes lit up.

           He quickly started speaking, words flying from his lips as you both ate away. You saw the happiness in his dark coloured orbs, like a child whenever he talked about cooking. Seokjin was a fantastic cook, if only he weren’t so busy tending to his grapes, you knew he would’ve spent more time with the Goddess Hestia.

           She also told you how great of a chef Seokjin was, ‘a natural gift; he may pose as a threat if he continues learning as quickly as he does’ she joked once with you. And given that Seokjin was desperately trying to make amends with you, you got the pleasure of experiencing such delights almost every day this week.

           “I love you, Seokjin.” You mumbled without much thought, lost in his eyes.

           He stopped talking, taken aback by your honest confession, a confession that was influenced heavily by Namjoon’s wine. But even though Seokjin knew how much you adored him, it was times like these where it hit him just how much.

           A soft smile emerged, putting down his half-eaten fish and wiping his hands clean on the napkin set aside by the nymphs. You mimicked his actions, letting your hands rest on your lap.

           “There isn’t a day where I don’t think of you, y/n,” Seokjin whispered, brushing his hair back. You saw the red on the tips of his ears, a blush formed along his neck. That was how you knew he was truthful – when the most confident God amongst all Gods was turning red.

           The same man who proudly proclaims to be the most handsome man of all turns into a blushing mess at saying a few simple words when he has said far worse. You nodded, thankful for the pearl the mermaid placed in your hair, it kept your mane in place, the breeze tickling your skin.

           Seokjin rose from his seat, walking over to were you lounged, and you saw how nervous he looked suddenly.

           “Jin-”

           “Have I ever told you how much I love you?” Seokjin spoke breathlessly, his voice wavering for a moment. You smiled softly, nodding your head at the way he walked towards you. He nudged himself against your legs, letting his hands cup your face once again, and your wings flicked in excitement. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach once again, his eyes warm.

           “I know you love me, Seokjin…” you hummed, and Seokjin shook his head.

           “No, y/n. I’m obsessed. You single-handedly stole my heart.”

           “I was a crying mess that day. I looked terrible.”

           “I beg to argue.”

           “I remember how fearful you were of my wings. How scared you were of my butterflies.”

           “And because of you – I overcame my fear of insects.” Seokin laughed, and you snorted along. His hands came to your neck, thumbs rubbing your pressure points.

           “You make me a better man, a better God. And I’m thankful to have such a woman by my side.” He droned into your being; both of you lost in each other's gazes. You swallowed hard, noticing how close you both were, the moment freezing.

           “Seokjin-”

           “I-I wish to ask you something, y/n.”

           Is Seokjin going to- was Namjoon speaking the truth? Is Seokjin going to ask what you think he is going to? Your heart started pounding, blood rushing as a cold sweat started to appear. Was the moment that you’ve been waiting for, the moment in your dreams, finally happening?

           “What is it, Jin? What do you wish to ask?”

           Seokjin gulped, his hands were shaky. He looked so shy, so small, at the moment – like a toddler confessing his affection to another child.

           “I don’t want to spend a single day without you by my side. I want to wake up every day to you, go to sleep with you. Do you wish the same?”

           “Yes.”

           “Y/n, I’ve wanted to ask you this for weeks. From the moment I met you. I’ve been so nervous, fearful of rejection.”

           “Just ask me, Jin.”

           “I wish-I wish to ask for your hand in-” Seokjin stopped talking, stilling completely, and you felt yourself stop breathing.

           The suspense killing you.

           “My hand in what, Jin?”

           His eyes widen, realizing he wasn’t even paying attention to you anymore. Seokjin’s attention was caught elsewhere, stepping back.

           “Is that- is that, Jungkook. With a mermaid?” Seokjin blurted.

           Your body froze because the moment that you’ve been waiting for – the moment that you’ve dreamt of was utterly ruined in a matter of seconds. You stood, turning on your heel to see where Seokjin was staring in awe, and you realized that he was right.

           There was Jungkook, laughing cheerily in the water, with a black-haired, silver tailed woman. The moment that was rudely taken from you slipped from your memory, seeing how happy Jungkook appeared, a smile so massive and innocent.

           “I can’t believe it…” Seokjin whispered breathlessly, and your head shot upwards, taking in Seokjin expression. He looked happier than Jungkook; you swear small tears were swelling in his eyes as he watched over his youngest brother. “I can’t believe that piece of shit found someone.” He laughed breathlessly, and you as upset as you were, you let out a sigh.

           Because Seokjin looked so content, watching his family be happy.

           As much as he drove you mad, you had a sweet spot of seeing Seokjin pleased with his family. You swallowed hard, knowing that you would regret your words as soon as you spoke them, but you couldn’t help it.

           Because at this point, his family was your family.

           “Shall we invite them to dine?” You asked, and Seokjin froze at your request.

           He looked down, torn between agreeing and refusing.

           “I messed up this date…again. Didn’t I?” He whispered, and you merely shook your head. “Don’t worry about it, Seokjin. The question you were about to ask me, it wasn’t important, was it?”

           He bit his lips, running a hand through his hair, “It was but…”

           “You have one more week.” You said, and Seokjin nodded, “I promise, our next date will be one to remember. I’ll make up for all the wrong I have done.” You smiled, your wings fluttering as you stood tall, your lips falling over his.

           “I do hope so.”

Copyright © 2019 Mystic-Kitten, inc. all rights reserved. No reposting, modifying, or translations of any kind allowed. Thank you for your cooperation.

Cross-posted on Ao3/Tumblr/Quotev/Wattpad to discourage plagiarism.

❤ Buy me a coffee? ❤

[theheartofpenelope]

Simple Things : Chapter fourteen

Excerpt - Because when someone manages to make you the happiest person and the saddest person at the same time, that's when it's real. That's when it's worth something. But her friend kept mum and it drove Lizzie up the wall. Oh yes, the part of an innocent bystander did not become her… never had, never would.  Tag list: @winterisakiller, @devikafernando, @scorpionchild81, @messy-insomniac-bookgirl, @smutsausage, @hiddlesbitch1 @noplacelikehome77 @wolfsmom1 @meh1217 @dina-bln @lilaeye39 @tinchentitri @fairlightswiftly @nonsensicalobsessions @wolfsmom1 @stmeiou @ink-and-starlight @givemecocoaa @profkmoriarty13 @nikkalia @massivelemon @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @argo-shila @emoietmoi@redfoxwritesstuff @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog @raining-litter @theoneanna @coppercorn-and-cauldron @turniptitaness @shadyskit @memoriesat30 @antyc67 @just-the-hiddles @sheris532 @marggot4 @jennytwoshoes @nibtime @hiddlescastle @funnygirlthatgab @deebee9114

Author’s Notes/Warnings: tags will follow later on Anyway thank you in advance for feedback - would love to know what you think…Also on AO3 through this link Masterlist available through here Bonus: click here for the pinterest moodboard (always updated)

Chapter 14 : Athens and a slice of home

1. Curious Lizzie

Friends had quickly detected a subtle change in Charlotte’s behaviour. She seemed softer, tired still but….  happier and maybe a bit more carefree…could that be? Lizzie did not hesitate to, one day, point out  ‘Charlie’s apparent delirious happiness’ .

Ok she might have embellished a bit in that department, but for all the best reasons though. She had teased her friend at first with offhandedly inquiring if perhaps it was because business was going well, earning herself that ‘non-disclosing Charlie-smile’.

Truth of the matter was that Lizzie was fairly sure a certain ‘Tom’ had his hand in Charlie’s new-found bliss. And the annoying fact that her friend still remained to keep the matter under wraps peaked her curiosity only more.

An inquiry along the likes of a  "how's Tom?" was standard met with a chuckle and a serene "good-good, he's fine." But that was as far as she would get. It frustrated her beyond measure that she could list the information she had on him on just one hand. Yes, one hand, five fingers and she knew this to be a fact because she had recited them, all five of them, to her husband David one night.

‘his name is Tom,

he’s British,

Charlie finds him quite handsome,

supposedly he’s also intelligent,

and quite attentive.

Even while low on statistics Lizzie did have to conclude these were at least proper traits, ‘but generic as fuck! We haven’t even seen him or a picture of him. Oh come òn David... ‘

“So, when do the rest of us get to meet him?” Lizzie’d finally blurted out over iced coffee on a sultry afternoon, “it seems about time, no?”

This was a reasonable request though, wasn’t it? If Lizzie did the math correctly at least two weeks or so had passed since their infamous summerbabes-celebration…. two to perhaps three weeks - tops! - since Charlie’s trip to Scotland and her night of rapture over there. And while Charlie had expertly danced around her obvious discouragement after checking her voicemail in Lizzie’s kitchen, over the following fortnight she had slowly transformed back into a very delighted young woman, who was now - against all odds - back in high spirits…

Sure, Lizzie had pondered, Charlie was in talks to work with the Royal London Hospital but that deal was nowhere near set. So both her regret and her newfound cheerfulness hàd to be because of Tom, there was simply no other logical explanation… And that’s exactly what triggered Lizzie even more. Because when someone manages to make you the happiest person and the saddest person at the same time, that's when it's real. That's when it's worth something. But her friend kept mum and it drove Lizzie up the wall. Oh yes, the part of an innocent bystander did not become her… never had, never would.

Charlotte cast her eyes downward to her drink with a slight smile. With her hot pink straw she carelessly dunked the ice cubes while her mind tried to come up with a plan to meet this well-meant request with a sufficient, yet rejecting, answer. Because this was something she and Tom had not yet addressed themselves, not really though…

From out of the corner of her eye Charlotte could clearly see David nudging his wife.

“What? Oh, long distance - shminstance,” Lizzie muttered to her husband.

Still trying to figure out her answer, Charlotte caught her breath when she heard David kindly interjecting;  

“Just let her revel in her little honeymoon-phase, babe,” and he planted a sweet kiss on Lizzie’s temple, “remember when we first got together?”

Charlotte was ever so grateful for that silly, small remark that had shut Lizzie up very promptly.  Good man, that David. Eternally grateful even. But she did make a mental note to doctor out a way to diplomatically answer the next request she would surely be receiving sooner or later. No, Tom and her hadn’t really talked about any of this. And from the looks of it they really should, she guessed. First thing when she’d gotten back from Athens... the next destination she was flying out to later that night.

2. Beautiful Athens

Goes to show you never really can tell. Charlotte had opted to fly out to Athens in the early evening to avoid the heat and city traffic, only to realise that Athens was not at all as hot as she had imagined it to be. It seemed the Western part of Europe was boiling up, while the Southern part was actually quite agreeable and - low and behold - even managed to surprise her with short - yet intense - rain shower. What were the odds?

It initially had seemed to be a perfect evening for a hike up the Philopappos Hill, which promised a stupendous view of the Acropolis in all its glory. And boy, did it deliver... Grateful for the opportunity her life now offered her to travel gorgeous cities and see breathtaking sites, Charlotte had apped Tom the astonishing view that had unfolded itself in front of her. No words needed.

Philopappos Hill, that held the Philopappos Monument, had been quite the discovery… In the fifties it was declared an archeological park that consisted of ‘the Hill of the Muses’, ‘the Hill of the Nymphs’ and the ‘Pnyx’ which had been the meeting of democratic legislatures in ancient times. And while of historical, architectural and even archeological importance, it was also the home of indigenous birds, including the Athenian owl and the peregrine falcon. It was an important stop-over for many migratory birds and then there were the land tortoises and the numerous bats that had scared Charlotte shitless at first, .... Talk about another great picture-opportunity -gone-wrong, but she’d sent it to Tom anyway, in good humour.

Listed by UNESCO as a protected monument of cultural heritage and yet it remained open to all, day and night, free of charge. All that thanks to a movement in Athens that stood by its belief that the best protection for the hill was guaranteed by the love, care and active participation of the local people. Philopappos Hill’s state and beauty had left Charlotte absolutely speechless and amazed. And - well - drenched after that sudden heavy rainfall that had come out of seemingly nowhere…

An hour or so later, Charlotte happily and lazily stretched out in the luxurious bathtub at the Plaka Hotel, revelling in the warm water and the generous amount of bubbles she’d indulged in. She counted her lucky stars for that streak of luck that had brought her there careerwise, before her mind started mulling how on earth she had managed to pull an almost 180° on an emotional level in the same process… Because up until recently a pang of guilt had always plagued her when the concept of ‘another man’ - other than her now ex-husband - was being brought to her attention.

Post-divorce, after all discussions had ended and possessions had been divided, after all the dust had settled and the air had been cleared, Charlotte was relieved to find that she didn’t really miss someone. And when she dìd start meeting men ( mostly the result of a well-meant yet awkward set-up)  it was a bit of a relief to her that she didn’t run into someone who would meet up to the - admittingly - ridiculously high-ranged checklist she had cooked up in the back of her mind.

Ah well. When single and desperate in wanting to remain that way, you just shoot for the moon, right?

So, men and dating… it was a non-issue, really. Charlotte had figured she would give herself the luxury of time. She owed herself that much. Time to take care of herself, she was adamant about that part. Time to get her career onto the desired path by investing fully in (nearly all) the challenges she would stumble across. Needless to say that, at that point, romance could or would only hold her back. Well, at least that’s what Charlotte figured. And with her past, who could blame her…  So she desperately attempted to avoid that particular path, at any cost. She wanted, no needed, to spread her wings and fly on her own. At least for a little while. To be who she’d longed to be again and - first and foremost - to be true to herself. And preferable stay that way as well… And then  he  came along.  Dealbreaker . And he messed up all the rules without realising it. Or did he?

It had been quite a surprise to Charlotte how Tom had managed to settle himself under her skin the way he’d done. And once she’d fully allowed herself to give into that knowledge and the temptation and all it encompassed, she’d found herself truly well lost and it had freaked her out immensely.

For that exact reason Charlotte was tremendously appreciative of her hectic work schedule, for it mercilessly ‘demanded’ that their time together would be restricted, split up in small fragments over time; fragments that were never enough but had to make-do... It would be gruelling and demanding for any lovestruck couple, but for Charlotte all it meant was that she could take things easy. She could ease into it. DIp her toe it, see how it felt. And no person was to blame for it, only her work. It truly was a blessing in disguise.

Now in truth, Tom wasn’t exactly putting his feet up either. So his schedule was partly to blame for this as well. More than occasionally he’d have to fly across Europe for a meeting concerning future developments. And somehow this had led to secret get-togethers abroad… After Vienna Charlotte had travelled on to Budapest and Dubrovnik, before making a passage in Prague. And she genuinely adored Tom for creating time and opportunity to meet up whenever and wherever possible.

On her part, Charlotte had gladly taken to Heathrow as her new airport of choice, where they could meet up whether for lunch when she was in between flights or once for a late dinner before she would rail back home.

Currently in Athens, she was up for Napels next for a mini-cruise that would take her to Rome. Of all the things imaginable! Trust neurologist to have their professional association to work ‘a little something special’ out… But before that she would have a stop at home. A couple of days of normality and none too soon. To her delight Charlotte realised that in about 3 days she was also set to meet Tom again.

Oh dear sweet heaven, I’m counting down the days now…  

3. London to Athens

Even early on, Tom had always kindly urged Charlotte to text him when she’d arrived on her destination safely. A gesture he gladly returned of course. It delighted him that soon her messages evolved to silly apps containing nothing more than a picture of her on a balcony or some other mouth watering location as if to prove ‘doing alright’ or ‘wish you were here’ or even ‘look what you’ve missed out on’. She could be such a tease and that thrilled him so, especially when geography was not on their side...

These days he caught himself, sometimes impatiently so, awaiting what she would send him next. And without fault he would grin widely when he took note that she had upped the ante, time and time again. She had humour and didn’t take herself too serious. Oh, how he loved that aspect of her particularly.

Upon returning to his London home after another trip to Mallorca, he had dutifully put down his bags and went along his usual coming-home routine before picking up his beloved Bobby. The chocolate brown Spaniël was absolutely overjoyed at the reunion with his master and very gladly pranced proudly by his side when they took an impromptu detour across Primrose Hill.

This was lovely, absolutely enjoyable,  Tom had reflected,  but her company would have made a very nice extra…

When his cell phone beeped and disclosed an app of a drenched Charlotte upon a Greek hillside claiming she’d perfected her ‘Rain Dance Deluxe’, he couldn’t help but chuckle out loud.

Scratch that. Her company would have been perfect right now.  

Upon returning home, Tom had eyed his still-packed bags with a sense of scrutiny and uncertainty. He really ought to unpack them, he was well aware. Yet he turned on his heels, rewarding Bobby with a loving pat on the head and urging him along for his dinner…

Bobby was completely unaware of his master biting the nail of his thumb. After all, when being pampered with a delicious ‘master-is-back-home-meal’, all he wanted to do was happily devoured it, context be damned. So he also did not take note of his master aimlessly fidgeting around with his phone while he licked his bowl clean. He did however detect a heavy sigh falling from his master’s lips, but that one could not be on him. Could it? Bobby licked along his bowl once more before calmly lapping up the fresh water in his drinking bowl.

The Spaniël curiously turned his ears as he heard the familiar sounds of the kettle being set. Retiring to his favourite dog bed, he followed the scene before him with anxious eyes because he clearly heard his master sigh heavily and mumble to himself yet again. Was he walking over now? Indeed! Crouching down to his level, Bobby was rewarded with another loving scruff over his head and under his chin. Oh, he’d definitely been a good boy for that, hadn’t he?

“You’re happy to happy home, aren’t you boy?”

Bobby wagged his tail lazily in utter delight and looked up through droopy tired eyes.

“Hmm, such a good boy…. I shouldn’t be leaving you again so soon, should I?”

Tom sank down to his level and opted to sit by his side. Bobby raised and slanted his head curiously, because this maneuver was new to him. However he gladly gave into temptation and placed his head onto his master’s knee while he fumbled around with his phone again, dialing a newly familiarized number.

Now, there was only so much he could follow. He was still a dog after all… But his master opted for the speaker so he could carry on stroking his beloved Bobby while talking.  

“What if,” his master spoke up suddenly. “What if – what?” a woman replied. “What if – you got home and…’ he hesitated, “I would be there?”

Water splashed to which Bobby quietly and anxiously growled… much to his master’s delight.

“Oh, you really àre in a bath, aren’t you?’ he exclaimed in a husky voice, “I knèw I should should have gone with a video chat.” “I never lie,” the woman confessed humorously, “but - also - what are you saying?” “If you have the time. If you’re willing to have me. If you …” “That’s a lot of ‘ifs’...”

Bobby sensed his master seeking refuge in silent nervous laughter. And then felt the loving petting stop when the woman replied, “I have work though.”

“I - I understand completely,” Bobby’s master paused, “then… we’ll just see each other on the weekend then, as we’d planned.” A pause, “right?” “No.” “No?” His master hunched forward some in surprise.

Bobby heard the woman laughing and apologising profusely, something about “surprising” and “not knowing where her head was”.  Silly woman. Something with “whenever you want” and “please” and lots of those good praising words. She even mumbled Bobby’s name at one point.

“Did you hear that boy?” his master cooed to him after ending said phonecall later that evening, “Charlotte insists I take you with me on a little holiday. What do you think? Bobby? Holiday?” But by that time Bobby had been massaged while into his own little land of dreams… 

4. So, this is me...

Charlotte’s heart pounded into her chest as she ushered Tom and Bobby inside her home, muttering a “so, this is me…” and she gestured around inside.

“You’re welcome to stay, if you want,” she blabbered on nervously before rolling her eyes at herself.

Seriously Charlotte? Who are you talking to?

“I could easily book a hotel, you know,” Tom, ever so quick on his feet, retorted to which Charlotte raised her brow playfully and chuckled bashfully.

“I’m kidding,” he murmured while cautiously setting his bag on the wooden floor and gently inched closer to her, “I’m just so happy to see you are just as nervous as I am.”

“Are you though?” Charlotte scrunched up her nose. And to her delight he closed his eyes momentarily and nodded softly with a purred “mmm”. Bobby however ruined the sweet moment with an impatient tug on his leash and subsequent spinning around Tom, desperate to go and explore his new surroundings.

And so, with an endearing smile, Charlotte bent through her knees apologising and exclaiming she should take care of her favourite guest first and foremost. As she cooed over Bobby, sweetly praising and ruffling his fur, Bobby kindly returned her greeting with the attempt of jumping up to her which Tom quickly forbade him to do. Much to Charlotte’s amusement.

She suggested Tom to unleash him, which he hesitantly did after sternly reminding Bobby not to run. It was quite the sight and Charlotte couldn’t help but smile to herself.

Very swiftly Bobby spotted the drinking bowl she’d set up for him in the kitchen. And he lapped up the water gratefully before setting out to search the premises. The soft pitter-patter of his paws and gentle ticks of his nails quietly set through the downstairs living area. It was a sound that reminded Charlotte of her own childhood and still cherished deeply...

She unlocked the kitchen door that led to her cosy little garden, while Tom promptly rolled out Bobby’s travelling doggy-bed onto the hallway floor before following in Charlotte’s footsteps. Bobby followed suit, before roguishly diving into the garden curious-snout first. Charlotte laughed heartily as Bobby went along before easing an insecure Tom he would be alright in her closed-off, dog-proof garden.

He instantly relaxed and leant back against the door jamb.

“I know it’s dark out, but it feels so nice and quiet here,”

“Private,” Charlotte smiled, “drink?”

With a nod he wordlessly followed her path around the kitchen island.

“So, Charlie?” he pointed to the wooden ornament dangling on the key chain at her door.

“Nickname,”

“Charlie,” he pursed his lips as he slanted his head, “I like it…”

He smiled after sneaking another peek inside her living room once more while she fixed them refreshing drinks, “exactly how I imagined it.”

“Oh?” an intriguing smile crept across her lips “and what did you imagine then?”

“Well, I imagined a long sofa, with plenty of comfortable cushions. Shelves filled with books, ...”

Charlotte titterd and shook her head, “Cheater! I told you about that.”

“Fine, fine,” he held up his hands as an act of innocence as he walked over to her in the kitchen again.

“I’ll go again. I -  imagined big windows that invite a lot of light. Erm, I imagined a small garden,” he continued while striding closer to her still, “but I can’t see anything there, so help me god.” A chuckle fell from his lips, “I also pictured an all white kitchen, with… marble countertops.”

“Marble countertops?”

“M-hm” he hummed, “solid, sturdy, marble countertops,” he emphasized as he closed the distance finally and swiftly lifted her up on them.

“Hi,” he murmured while his nose teased hers.

“Hi,” she breathed back, anxious for that kiss she’d been longing for ever since he stepped onto her threshold.

“Am jealous of Bobby though,”

“Are you now?"

He nodded and slid his hands softly over her knees and up her thighs before holding onto her hips with firm care, “he’s gotten wày more attention than I have.”

“Hmm,” she sighed, her hands gently combing through his generous curls, “and we can’t have that, now can we?”

He shook his head, and she caught that mischievous twinkle in his eyes sparkling in full force. It was all she needed to lure her in, and happily she brought her hands to his cheeks before leaning in for a sweet kiss on his lips.

“Missed you,” he mumbled against her mouth. And that was just the final straw.

A wistful sigh escaped her mouth and he captured her lips again with his. She responded instantly and so they finally reunited with passion, with fervour and a very blatant desire. There’s no decorum here anymore. It had been too long. Way too long and she was pleased he agreed with her.

His lips conveyed her of how much he had missed her, longed for her and his fingertips firmly slid up her thighs, trying to raise up her clothing in the process. Charlotte made a quick mental note not to opt for a playsuit again, no matter how cute and sexy, on the eve of reuniting with a lover because his lustful groans suddenly turned to slightly frustrated ones when he failed to figure the garment out.

A mild happy whimper escaped her lips however when his hand circled around her backside and forcefully scooted her closer to him and the growing bulge in his jeans. And all Charlotte could to was grab onto his shirt as she pushed her hips into him needily.

Desperation. Could that be a fitting word here? Absolute desperation? To feel his skin on hers again. To have him fall apart because of her doing again? Her mind gets clouded though when his tongue started a delirious path down her neck before his fingertips tugged the straps of her clothing off of her shoulders. She can hear him mutter how the sun has spoiled her but is unable to reply at this point. Instead she locked her legs around his waist, in a desperate need for that friction.

A groan and he grabbed onto her hips even more fiercely, growling something about ‘where next’ and it takes her a while to realise he’s talking about the directions to her bedroom. Luckily Bobby was having the time of his life in the garden because the two barely made it across the hallway and ended up in her reading chair, Charlotte on top, bringing both herself and Tom to a nearly simultaneous but earth-shattering climax.

Satisfying and fulfilling.

Easily, effortlessly.

Addictive.

Oh dear. 

5. Settling in

With remorse Charlotte left for the office the following day, only to return to her home where the windows had let the fresh air in all day. A dining set was out on the terrace and soft lounge music played in the background while a handsome man lazed in her garden, catching up on some reading. And Bobby? He relaxed under the shade of the shrubbery as if he owned the place.

Charlotte very much enjoyed seeing Tom lounging in the hammock, his long legs stretched out. His one ankle resting across the other one, a book propped up in his one hand while his other arm lazily bent over his head.

Tiptoeing over to him, she knelt down quietly in the green grass by his side so she could surprise him with a soft kiss on his cheek. He hummed deliciously, dropping the paperback onto his chest and stretching out his arms to her, wanting to draw her near.

These were probably the best moments, Charlotte pondered. The ones were he lay in her garden, so free of sorrow or stress. No clocks dictating their lives. Bobby either happily chasing butterflies or resting in the shade.

He muttered for her to 'come hither' and pulled her into his lap. Charlotte giggled and shrieked, claiming the hammock wouldn't last this way. But he would have none of it.

She could spot his laughing wrinkles at the sides of his eyes, and softly caressed them. She could spy her own happy reflection in his ray-bans. So perfectly happy.

"What are you reading?" she asked and wilfully followed the direction he guided her in. With her head resting on his chest,  he grabbed hold of the paperback and read out loud to her. Oh yes, she could get used to this… And she happily informed him later on she’d re-arranged her schedule so she’d be able to work from her home the next couple of days. So it would be just the two of them. ‘Against the world’ , he’d teased.

He was adapting so well, it boggled her mind sometimes. But Tom gladly admitted he truly was happy there, very happy, in their little cocoon. Nobody knew where he was. Well nobody of the outside world. He revelled in the fact he could just shut the door behind him there in her home town and nobody would be any the wiser. It was private, safe, secret. It was all he ever longer for. Not to be hunted anymore. Being able to step out with Bobby to the nearby park and be left in absolute privacy. Going out for an impromptu errand and be left in peace. Being able to kiss someone without having the media shred them to pieces when all they had for now was still so frail and new. And moreover uncertain whether any future could come out of it, although he was all-in already.

There was only one little twinge by the end of his stay. When her doorbell rang, and Charlotte started muttering gibberish under her breath. She’d asked him to hide and to lay low and promised he would thank her later. So Tom saw no reason not to oblige to her request.

But when he realised it was a friend coming over, and a close one at that, questions did arise. The woman was clearly surprised Charlotte had a dog over and he could tell there was some curious questioning going on before the visit ultimately ended.

When he sweetly asked Charlotte later who the woman was, he was appalled that the woman was in fact Charlotte’s best friend Lizzie. And it made him contemplate out loud whether Charlotte was hiding her boyfriend, or  him as her boyfriend?

"Boyfriend?" Charlotte grinned, "Is that what we're calling it?"

And with that she crawled over to him to tempt him into a luring kiss.

"Now love, come on," he furrowed his brow.

"I'm just,” she sighed, her eyes pleading, “not ready to share you yet."

At his silence she softly nuzzled his neck, “I'll do that thing you like ..."

Well, anything really, if it kept his interest away from the matter. And away from the fact the Lizzie was already pushing towards meeting Tom. But Tom’s cheeks flushed crimson, before he cleared his throat with a "darling, you know you better…”

Apparently this was not working and with a sigh she let herself fall back into the bed next to him while he reasoned that her best friend wasn't quite the outside world, and that despite their promise to be discrete he would honestly be ok with it if she would want to confide in her.

“Don’t get me wrong,” Charlotte sighed, “Lizzie is wonderful and very dear to me. And she's also the one who's been most on my case for …”

“For…?”

“For keeping to myself. For shutting off in the past.”

Tom propped his head up on his hand and she could feel his eyes flickering over her.

“She was probably genuinely concerned,”

“Myeah,” Charlotte agreed, “I'm just afraid I guess that she'll only get ahead of things, while I really feel this need to take my time and take this slow.”

Her fingertips trailed over his thigh, apparently she was on a better path now because his lips curved into a soft smile and his eyebrow quirkily while his voice dropped about an octave, "I like it slow..."

Charlotte grinned and tilted her head up to him, he teased his nose against hers.

“Thought you might…”

[kurtty-drabbles]

Ich Liebe dich au

N/A: I´m amused by the background of a prompt I did. So, here is a woman wanting to be Kur D´s wife and failing.

@djinmer4 @discordsworld @dannybagpipesarecalling @bamfoftheundead

There´s an old saying that many guilds, many families (to the most important ones until to the common folk) that faes are dangerous as they are comely.

The Feather family is one of the many victims of the ordeals of faes, to the point, preserves themselves against the nasty curse inflict on them, the family switch their original name to a new one. So far, the plan works like a charm.

Thus, the now called Feather family has a new addition to the family. Morgana Feather. A little girl that inherited her mother´s dark eyes (that matches her hair. A raven hair) and the nose of her father. A roman nose.

The baby grows up to be an adventurous little girl. Never questioning the origin of the surname "Feather". Morgana has 7 years old and one wish. To be the best guild leader ever.

"I´ll be a great leader and kick any evildoers´ ass" Morgana promised to herself with a big smile as she watches the renovations on the palace of justice that King Magneto set, this Guild has the support of Genosha and is a being used as a military camp to the original X-men.

"One day, I´ll be greater than them," she said and goes off on her merry way. Her imagination is gone wild morphs the path into a battlefield where only Morgana can defeat a monster.

Using spells only high levels mages can use the fight is equal when in the middle of the battle, the girl falls in the stream. It snapped the little to reality and Morgana is now facing the soaking dress she has, looking at her surrounders.

The guild is blessed with green, yet, what caught her eyes is blue and red. A fae(the armour is a big give away even to a little girl) is staring at her with boredom as he takes his stained bloody sword out of his sword sheath (made of leather, however, it has the faery symbol. Again, even a little girl recognized fae culture) covered in blood and pours water of the stream in the sword.

Morgana is mesmerized by the fae. Dark blue fur, his built indicates the man was in more wars than a human could imagine, his scarlet eyes and his expression of total concentration as the water is cleaning the sword in one go.

Yes, faes and nymphs of the water have a deal. Even Morgana knows about this.

The sword is stainless as the metal is shinning. The blue fae with scarlet eyes thanks to the water. Morgana never saw such beautiful thing in her entire life.

"Wait!" she speaks bravely and is reward by his scarlet eyes on her figure. "Could you help me to get up?"

And the fae looking bored as before, gave one reply, just one, to her question. "NO" and leaves.

And he´s gone. Morgana can feel tiny hands trying to pull her down, the nymphs aren´t that strong to take a child, but, no one should give an easier time for a nymph.

She´s soaked and looking at the direction where the blue fae was. Morgana clenches her fists and vows to find him again, and when that happens...that fae will be impressed by her.

__________________________________________________________________________

When Morgana went to her family to announce she will get married the first reaction, coming from her proud mother, rejoiced and amusement, however, as soon Morgana describe her future husband the amusement dies.

"Morgana!"

"You saw a monster! Quick, let´s take her to the temple, now, she needs to be purified"

All the while the image of the handsome fae visits her mind more often than not, until, it makes a permanent residency in her dreams. ______________________________________________________________________

The Guild grows in name and Morgana follows the trend as now, Morgana Feather, is a mage of great calibre and beauty. Her raven shinning hair lengths to her shoulders perfectly, her body is now of a woman and her dark eyes are the inspiration of many songs.

Yet, as much Morgana is elegant and a renowned mage, as much she has tittles and praises from King Magneto himself, Morgana never actually married.

Her mother is confused. Certainly, there´s no lack of candidates wanting her hand, certainly, there´s no hatred for Morgana´s part in marriage, however, she´s still single.

Unbeknownst to them, the pretty Morgana travels to the forest, every full moon, to search for fae´s rings, and to finally see that handsome, alluring and powerful fae....with no luck.

"Oh, so the rumours are true" a cajun voice rings into her ear and Morgana spot a handsome fae with a cajun accent and a smirk adorning his face. "A human is indeed looking for one of us, may I ask why?"

Never lie to a fae. But never give your name to one either.

"Of course, I´m looking for a blue fae with scarlet eyes and blue fur as skin. I´m looking only for him. I want to...know him, and if is possible, to marry him" Morgana confessed honestly. And the other fae smiled at this revelation.

"Darkholme? Oh, yes, the strange fellow that one. He did marry before...strange wedding for sure, but, the poor woman was eaten by his enemies. Still, want to be his wife?" the cajun fae asked and Morgana nods and the fae laughs. "call my Gambit, little human, because I´d want to see that blue one married again" and flash seductive plays on his face.

"I´m willing to kill his enemies if that´s his wish" Morgana unleashes her blade and looks at Gambit with fierce eyes, again, the fae is not stopping the smile.

"Then...let´s do a test, my dear, a nice test to see if you´re indeed worthy of his time"

________________________________________________________________________

As Morgana reaches 21 years old, the Guild did receive a pack new lore, the dead unicorn, a folktale that quickly boosts their tourism route and the citizen have no problem in spreading the tale.

Even when some people saw the dead unicorn taking a daughter away only to return her 3 days again.

Morgana never picked once by the dead unicorn.

Until, one day, after 100 years (Morgana thanks the potions to extended her life) the unicorn pick one woman and that woman is different from the others. The allusive fae, Darkholme, is been seeing talking with this non- special woman named Kitty Pryde aka Ariel.

"Why she?" _______________________________________________________________________________

Ariel is doing a messy bun on her hair as she returns to her home, Darkholme and Ariel are still searching for Gambit as his jokes, to put nicely, and so far no success for the duo.

"Darkholme said Gambit likes small cities. So, maybe he´ll be in the city of Excelsior" Kitty mutters to herself as she´s backing and forth in this subject and is visible to any passerby.

"Kitty, you´re here" Morgana offers a forced smile as her eyes look at the hairpin she´s using. It´s the same symbol Darkholme uses. "Tough mission?"

"Well, yes, I´m looking for a fae, a very dangerous one." is all Kitty can say. Morgana is still looking at the hairpin with a bit of jealousy.

"Fancy hairpin, Ariel, never thought you liked those things" she tries to be nonchalant and Ariel has no reason to not believe in the act.

"A ...friend of mine give this as a gift"

"Oh, I see, well, as for your mission...how about going to religious institutions? I heard Zaorva´s temple have means to track down a fae ...it can help you"

Morgana watches as Ariel is considering and is internally pleased as she agrees with the suggestion. Morgana won´t tell that faes aren´t allowed to go to Zaorva´s temple. And...faes hate any similarity with religion.

___________________________________________________________________________

Morgana was made like a fool as it seems Zaorva´s temple does allow faes and Ariel and Darkholme are bonding...too much.

Morgana watches as Darkholme and Ariel are talking about something entirely theirs and Morgana is left watching only.

[anneesfolleshq]

Bonjour et bienvenue!

Paris welcomes you, our Nymph, Grace Fontaine! May we say, you’re the spitting image of Paulina Singer! Please make your presence known within 24 hours, and do have a look at our checklist before setting out into the city on your own.

                                                                                    À bientôt!

MUN

Name/Alias: Theo

Preferred Pronouns: They/them

Age: 22

Timezone: Pacific Standard Time. As for activity, I’d just say the same as Seb!

MUSE

Chosen Skeleton: The Nymph

Muse Name: Grace Fontaine

Muse Age: 24

Chosen FC: Paulina Singer

Muse Occupation: Courtesan and Dancer

Muse Affiliation & Frequent Haunts:

I would say that Grace is solidly Montparnasse affiliated, but it’s not like she doesn’t ever go to Montmartre. She just lives in, works in, and generally prefers Montparnasse. As for frequent haunts, besides La Ciel and L’Enfer, you can also often find her at Cafe Etoile pretty regularly, as well as the park. As for the other side of the river, she’ll occasionally go to La Gavroche, but that’s mostly it.

Direct from Le Petit Journal:

Have troubles you can’t seem to unburden? Come to La Ciel, and you might just find them melt away, at the feet of Miss Grace Fontaine, living up to her name as one of the most graceful dancers on her side of the Seine. While she might appear to only be dressed as an angel, simply have a few words with her, and you might find that she truly is one.

BIOGRAPHY

Grace Fontaine has always considered herself to be somewhat self-made.  Her father was a wealthy man, but her mother was only a mistress. She never met him, only hearing stories from her mother that he was fabulous, fashionable, a great man. Her mother, however good at telling stories she was, was not cut out for parenting, however, and when Grace was young, abandoned her at an orphanage. As a child, practically alone in the city, she learned quickly that her big brown eyes and ability to put on a precious pout at moments were quite helpful if she could use them properly. She often dreamed of a family, imagining somewhere where it wouldn’t matter how much she smiled, but as she got older, that naivety faded. It wasn’t difficult, in her situation, to become jaded at a young age. Especially as the nurses saw the way Grace used her appearance to her advantage. Vanity, they told her, was a sin, and so she was a sinner, for no reason besides what she saw as using the talents she’d been given to survive in the world. But despite feeling hardened to the world in many ways, this was something she believed of herself. It did not, however, have the intended effects. If she was a sinner for such small reasons, she saw no point to try and be anything different. 

Grace found herself, as the war begun, spending more and more time praying. Silly things, really, as she didn’t see her prayers as something that would truly matter, in the eyes of god. She prayed for a handsome and rich husband, for a big house, nice clothes. The sort of thing that perhaps she would have had had her father cared, or had her mother not left her. While the war changed things for many people, it didn’t do so much for Grace. She’d never had plans for her adult life that were anything more than fantasy, and if she didn’t expect much of a future, what did she have to lose? She didn’t think there was much, but as the war continued, she found herself some days only praying to live. 

While her more frivolous ones weren’t answered, this one was. When Grace was eighteen, the war ended, and she had come out the other side. It almost felt as if she could do anything, if she could survive something like that. However, despite thinking the worst was over, it was not. Now that she was an adult, technically, she had to make a life for herself, and while she might imagine she could do anything, it didn’t seem to be true, no matter how hard she wished. Looking back on it, perhaps, she was lucky, to get a job working with a seamstress, and not in a factory like many girls she knew did. It didn’t quite feel lucky, however, until through her job she met a man. She didn’t love him, but he was rich, and she was young, and remembered the things she had asked for that hadn’t come true. Perhaps this was simply that, delayed. They were married quickly, perhaps too quickly, Grace thought later. Her new husband didn’t seem to care for her much at all after the wedding, and though she never found proof, she suspected he was cheating. The more time went on, the more Grace could only think of the stories her mother had told her when she was small, about the man who was her father. He was more like a character in her head than a real person, a character who reminded her all too much of the man she had married. She could easily imagine him having a child out there, with some other woman, who would be told the same sort of stories she was. She couldn’t stay, and watch that happen, know as her father’s wife had likely known. No, she would leave. Not just the city, but the country, would go somewhere where she could be different. 

Had she been someone else, she might have thought on it more, and decided to stay, but instead, she left for Paris within the week. It didn’t take her long to get a job at La Ciel, something that amused her to no end. Here she was, at a club called heaven, doing exactly what she’d been told all her life made her a bad person in the eyes of god - Using her appearance to her advantage. Soon, she realized she could do more than just dancing, and easily slipped into work as a courtesan as well. Most of her clients, she found, she didn’t particularly like for anything more than their money, and the expensive gifts they showered on her. But that never mattered to her. Perhaps she was simply creating the life that she might have had, if her circumstances had been different. And anyway, in this new age, it seems it doesn’t matter what you take from people. They want something shiny, to distract themselves from the aftermath of the war, everything they’ve been through that they won’t speak of, and Grace is perfectly happy to be shiny, as long as she gets something out of it. And in the grand scheme of things, her clients are only men, and the older she gets, the more she finds it hard to believe that most men contribute anything meaningful to the world. In the grand scheme of things, it seems, there’s nothing she can take from them that they should have had in the first place.

POTENTIAL PLOTS/CONNECTIONS

A client who’s pockets she might have taken more than money from, and they are not pleased. But also, any clients in general! Men for her to take money from.

Lady friends (in a platonic or romantic way)! Honestly, Grace tends to prefer the company of women, and she does her best to surround herself with them, especially when she’s not working.

Somehow Grace getting dragged into something dangerous. In her connection with the Right Hand it says he saved her life, but how she came to need her life being saved could be something interesting to plot out, and maybe use as a point of turmoil for her.

EXTRAS

Pin board here!

[meshugana1]

I have a married friend who I paint with weekly. She's short, and usually a bit timid unless she's talking about animals, which she loves. Recently she's been painting this pig for a protest piece, and I think she's getting a bit obsessed. She started bringing in snacks, and eating while she paints, which she never used to do. She's been snorting while she laughs, and I've noticed that she's a bit slower and more flirty. I'm worried that soon I won't have a friend, just a fat, dumb, horny pig.

   It was unnerving to see Catherine like this now. I remember when we first met. She was so doe-like in her mannerisms. Even watching her just stand and listen to our painting instructor was like seeing a nymph flit about. She rarely spoke but was all the same warm and the most pleasant company. I remember once I brought up my old family farm, I think that was the first time I ever heard her speak, but she perked up and flung one question after another about the animals I grew up with. She felt deeply for pretty much everything alive. When I mentioned slaughtering cows and chickens, she flinched but said nothing. I made a point not to talk about that in the future and we became easy friends.

   I was in a surrealist phase of my art when we met. It just felt so energizing to be able to take a thing and filter it through my crazy imagination and just put it on a canvas. Catherine was more about realism. She painted the most lovely landscapes I had seen since that disastrous year I spent backpacking in Europe. She even went so far as to include downright microscopic detail in her work, it seemed like she painted each individual blade of grass. But the ones that got the most attention from her were the animals she included. Her horses felt like you could ride them at any moment, anti felt like the birds she created would fly away if you turned your back on them for even a moment. Her work was truly inspiring, I was always focused on the big picture but she was the perfect example of the little picture. We even began hanging out outside our art classes. I would be a little embarrassed to admit how many wine bottles the two of us drank together. Even her husband and I got along well enough. His name was Zeus, can you believe that?

   He was a pretty good guy. Never made a pass at me, not that I’m great at recognizing when people are flirting. I’m still single at twenty-nine and have been for about seven years now. I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t find him attractive. He was six feet of bearded, well filled out, lumberjack looking man. Who wouldn’t? But it was sweet how devoted he was to her. He wasn’t an artist like us, but he made a lot of money as a woodworker. He had his own shop and he always came home to her smelling like sawdust. He always came during our girls night and pulled her chin up from behind and kissed her. I was really jealous. He was charming, funny, and number one in my book, handsome. He mentioned to me once that he had been married before but it ended ugly. Who would pass on this guy?

   But their loss was Catherine’s gain I suppose. After our classes ended we started using open studio night at a local community college as our girls night. But then things started changing when he started painting that pig. She was so excited when she first brought in her paints. “It’s incredible Franny! I had the most energetic dream I can remember!” she said.“What happened?” I said.“I was in bed, then suddenly I bolted upright and saw it. A pig.”“What’s so special about that? I dreamt that my head turned into a cow udder once.”“And remember the painting you made from that? It was inspired. And now I think I’m having the same thing happen to me.”“What was so special about it?”“I can’t describe it with words. It was just a pig, squatting in a pile of filthy mud. But it just had this nobility. This dignified beauty…you’ll understand when I finish it. Everything I’m saying will make perfect sense.”

   It was unnerving seeing her like this. She was totally possessed by this painting. After about a month of painting the most beautiful background, I had ever seen her make she stalled. Our brief sessions at the studio stopped being enough. She started going in early and staying late. It was just impossible for her to start painting the pig itself. She had the barn in the background, the pen, the mud. All of it spoke to her vision. It was obviously missing its centerpiece but it was quality none the less. I came in one evening to find her pacing back and forth, three empty plastic soda bottles littered the ground and she was taking bites out of a candy bar. “Catherine? Are you ok?”“No, I don’t see it anymore. I could see it so clearly but now I just don’t have it!”“Maybe you should take a break from this thing. I’ve never seen you drink anything that wasn’t made with ground up grass, the candy bar is new too.”“I have to eat something, I’m so slow recently, so tired. I can’t think straight.”“Like I said Cath, just take a break. It’ll be there later, in the meantime, you can try to get into the mindset of your little piggy.” Catherine stopped pacing just then. Her eyes were widened with understanding. “Franny you’re a genius! Snort!” she said. She leaped up to me with her short legs and planted a kiss on my lips. I had never had a gay bone in my body and I didn’t think she did either, but it was hard to argue as her tongue explored my mouth. We separated and she grabbed her painting with renewed energy and ran from the studio with a purpose I couldn’t divine.

   She stopped coming regularly after that. It was barely once a week that I saw her and each time I did I was more and more concerned. There was never a point when she didn’t have food in her mouth, and more still in her hand. Whenever she laughed she chortled at best and snorted at worst. Her manners took a serious dive, she openly scratched her ass and crotch in public. It was at the mall together for the first time that I ever heard her fart. We were walking and she actually stopped me. “Oh, wait. Listen to this,” she said. Then she squatted down and ripped the loudest fart I had ever heard. I swear it echoed through the entire building. It seemed like the whole mall stopped to hear Catherine snort and chortle at the volume she was able to reach. “I’ve probably got about four more of those in the tank before I’m empty,” she said as she rubbed her belly. It had begun to strain her clothing lately, and not only that but a muffin top peaked from the top of her pants. I can’t even tell you how many pants she tore in front of me. And I was forced to watch as she flirted with countless men as we hurried out of the mall, my protests didn’t seem to deter her at all.

   A while later Zeus gave me a call. “Listen, this might sound weird but do you know if anything strange has been happening to Catherine lately?” he said.“Yes, you can’t tell me you haven’t noticed. She’s eating tons of junk food, farting constantly, gaining weight and I hate to be the one to tell you, but she just won’t stop being flirty with everyone. I’m so sorry Zeus.”“No, no. I know all about that stuff. Was there anything weird before that though?”“Before? No, it just kinda happened after her weird dream.”“Dream?! What kind of dream?”“She had a vision of a pig or something, then got to work on painting it,” I said. Zeus used words I had never heard out of him before, and none of them were English. “Sorry Franny, Catherine and I might need to take a vacation away from all this, get her mind right,” he said. He hung up immediately. Not a second later my doorbell rang and I heard a familiar snorting chuckle, “Franny! Snort, you gotta see this. Oink, it’s so cool!”

   When I opened the door I gasped. My eyes watered from the smell, had she not bathed at all? But the thing that made me refuse to close my eyes was Catherine’s huge, upturned snout. “You like it? I got it done today. You were so right Franny, I just had to get into the mindset of the pig, now I totally understand!”“Catherine how could you do this? What would Zeus think?”“Oh! Do you know where he is? I am in such a rutting mood! I better go sniff him out, snort, see ya later. Feel free to finish that dumb old drawing of mine, oink, I don’t need it anymore. Bye bye!” Catherine said as she waddled away in her straining skinny jeans.

   I called Zeus several times. He said that it was some kinda stress that just got to her. He brought her up to a farm someone in his family owned to help her relax. He said she was getting better every day, but she had a ways to go. That wasn’t much unexpected but I didn’t expect to hear him say, quietly under his breath, “Damn Hera, why do you always do this?” I don’t know exactly what he meant by that. But I thought it best not to dwell. Catherine would pull out of this, I was certain of it, and when she did I wanted her to see her masterpiece finished. It was kinda odd though. As I looked at the partially painted pig I started to feel really hungry, and to my shame, I let out a louder than normal toot.

The End. Hope Y’all liked it!

[mystic-kitten-writer]

Can you drop a teaser for Flutter my sweetest dearest most awesome writer in the universe 😍 (yes Im trying to use flattery. I have no shame). But i hope all is well with you i love you tons 💜💜

A teaser you say...👀👀

I’m not above flattery - and your flattery has earned you a teaser 😂

I’m going to be releasing an update plan for my stories sometime soon - but Flutter should be dropping within the month (fingers crossed!). My computer crashed, and I lost the majority of my edits a few weeks ago (also why I’m behind on my other stories too), but I finally got an external hard drive so I’m less fearful of losing all my edits!

But I hope you like the teaser, love you, babe~! 💜

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Reader

AU: Greek Mythology (mini-series - 3rd installment)

Genre: Romance/smut

Rating: SFW

Notes: A small teaser for waiting so patiently while my life is a chaotic mess.

Flutter [M] ︳Final

           “Did you see Kitten this morning? It’s like she wanted to get ruined again.”

           “Give our sweet Princess a break – she’s only human after all…”

           “Hmm, we both know there’s not a single thing that our sweet Kitten can’t handle.”

           Your eyelashes battled innocently, cheeks reddening the more you listened. A harmonious mixture of disbelief and embarrassment painting your face.

           It was impossible to strip your gaze away from them - the way Taehyung and Jimin moved their plump lips, lustful words dancing off the tips of their tongues. The way they spoke, one would have thought they were talking about their wines, not their sexual rendezvous.

           What a way to start the day.

           “Kitten? Princess?” You spoke with a perfectly raised brow, fingers tapping on the armrest of the couch you sat upon. An easy thing, designed by the one and only, Taehyung, himself. But the newest addition of furniture was the last thing on your mind, especially knowing that Jimin and Taehyung were utterly love-struck.

           As if Eros shot them with one of his arrows.

           It wasn’t that you thought Taehyung or Jimin was incapable of loving someone; you just didn’t think they would share, let alone with a mere mortal.

           Your smooth voice reminded them of your presence, and they smirked to each other - leaning back into the couches they sat on. You could only imagine the filth coursing through those corrupt minds of theirs – was their mother really a human? They seem more like direct offspring of Aphrodite and Dionysus...

           Taehyung’s arms rested along the back of the couch, his fingers drumming as he crossed his legs, “She’s a beauty, y/n. But more importantly-”

           “She loves us, both of us.” Jimin finished, manspreading as his hands brushed through his hair, a sweet but devilish smile on his face. And just like that, you could see it; love.

           It twinkled in their eyes, and despite their shameless talks and the physical attractions, they genuinely loved her.

           Seeing them sporting the broadest smiles on their faces, in utter bliss, made your heart swell with happiness. “And to think that just a moment ago, you were cute, awkward, teenagers.” you giggled, brushing your curtain of hair behind your ears, smiling.

           You’ve seen them grow, all six of them, ever since you began a courtship with the eldest brother, Seokjin. To see them now, grown men, handsome and wise, and smitten, was the best thing that could have happened to you. Strangely, you felt like all of the brothers were your children, and it made sense since you’ve known them all from the very beginning.

           “Have the others met her? I would love to meet her.” You smiled, leaning forward with excitement, and Taehyung let his long fingers tap against the couch, “Almost everyone, except Yoongi…but, you know him…”

           You pouted, nodding knowingly.

           He had his own worries, his own love troubles, and seeing people madly in love would most likely dampen his mood even more.

           “We actually came to visit because we have a favour to ask…” Jimin beamed, his voice light as he leaned forward, elbows on his knees. With a tilted head, you nodded, eager to hear what the great Gods of Wines could possibly want from just a butterfly nymph-like yourself.

           And the moment they spoke, you felt your heart stop, face dropping that stunning smile to a forced one.

           “We want to make her ours - officially. And there’s no one else we could trust with planning such an event than yourself.” Taehyung spoke, his eyes hazing over as he smiled to himself. Your breath hitched at his words, he couldn’t possibly mean what you think he does.

           “Y-you’re talking about marriage?” You muttered under your breath, and Jimin grinned.

           “Who would’ve thought we would be settling down already?” Taehyung and Jimin chuckled to themselves, nodding in unison at the thought, utterly oblivious of the sound of your involuntary giggle, hands intertwined on your lap.

           Your nails dug into your skin, bottom lip trembling as you thought about it – marriage.

           You loved Jimin and Taehyung, but not that way. You were happy that they were happy, glad that they found the one. The twisting of your stomach, the lump that built up in your throat, was caused by an entirely different meaning.

           You’ve been with Jin for God knows how long, and yet, he never did propose or make any move that would suggest he was thinking of it. And while they were plenty of happy couples in Olympus, unmarried and with no desire to do so, marriage was something the both of you expressed a desire for and valued.

           How long has it been? Five hundred, maybe even six hundred years in mortal time?

           That gut-wrenching feeling, skin-crawling - you were jealous.

           Jimin and Taehyung were ready to propose to a woman, whom they’ve known for less than a quarter than how long you and Jin have been dating.

           “I’m happy for you two.” You spoke slowly, compelling a smile to stay on your face as you gazed over at the two boys.

           It wasn’t like you fantasized about being a wife since you were little, but it still hurt. It was something you both cherished, and you didn’t think the relationship was failing, so what was it? If only you could pop the question, you totally would; but given his status, that was a no-go.

           Were you wasting your time?

           Asking too much from a God?

           Was he… was he in love with someone else? It wasn’t uncommon for the Gods to stray away…only a handful of them stay faithful – the brothers being prime examples. But Jin isn’t that type of man. He’s committed, that was never a realistic fear…unless it should?

           Your heart was pounding vigorously, as if someone stuffed a waterfall inside of your body. The soft mummers from the boys were lost to the thrashing in your head – oblivious to the confused looks they shared with one another.

           Was Jin just content?

           Maybe he does value marriage, just not with you.

           Now that you’re thinking about it…

           The more you thought, the more you realized the odd things that started to happen in your relationship…like how Jin kept freezing up every time you hugged him or gave him a peck. Or how awkward he seemed at times at your presence, like he was uncomfortable or stress.

           It was like Jin was there with you but not at the same time…was our relationship falling apart right under your nose, and you just never noticed?

           And just like that, you felt it; hands resting over yours, causing your eyes to flutter open – not realizing you had even shut them. Jimin was kneeling in front of you, his hands grasping yours.

           “What’s wrong…? Are you mad at us?” Jimin questioned, voice strained.

           “N-no, sorry, I was just thinking and- sorry. I’m fine, Jimin, don’t worry-” you cooed desperately, cupping his hands and pressing a bright smile. But Jimin sulked, shaking his head at the words you spoke.

           “What’s wrong y/n…we know you just as well as you know us.” Taehyung huffed. He leaned over his knees, eagerly awaiting your answer.

           Your mouth opened and closed, unsure of what to say.

           What do you say? That you’re jealous of some woman you never even met? That you want to marry their brother?

           “I-it’s nothing, I promise. I’ll gladly help you two with your wedding.”

           “It’s Seokjin…isn’t it?” Taehyung muttered under his breath. With that statement alone, he clicked his tongue, head shaking as he straightened his back and gazed away. You couldn’t stop your breath from hitching, surprised that he guessed as fast as he did, but also not since it would be the only answer that would make sense.

           Jimin glowered, the grip on your hand tightening tenfold, forcing your eyes to fall back on the man kneeling before you. “J-Jimin, sit up. You know it’s shunned upon for a God to kneel before anyone less than a God.”

           “But you’re not just anyone. You’re practically our mother.” He grumbled.

           His small hand untangled themselves with yours, dusting his stunning black silks as he stood. A sad smile painted your pink lips – they viewed you as a mother figure, and that meant tons.

           “I’m not sure what Seokjin did, but you know how he is. He can be so aloof.” Taehyung grumbled under his breath, and you couldn’t help but laugh breathlessly. He had a point…although Taehyung isn’t one to talk – aloofness was, more often than not, his middle name at times.

           But it wasn’t that Jin was unwise, he just proved…oblivious in certain areas.

           For someone who was such a family man, a man who valued tradition and customs, he was unusually slow to picking up specific hints. There was a reason why you had to initiate the first kiss, the hand-holding…what a frustrating man he can be.

           Was it aloofness?

           No…it was more so his fear of pushing you – hurting you.

           “You’re my butterfly – and I never want to be the reason why you no longer flutter as beautifully as you do.” You smiled sheepishly, remembering his romantic words – what a goof.

           “Does…Seokjin wish to marry me?” you muttered under your breath, more so a question for yourself than for your boys to hear.

           Jimin’s eyes widen, his jaw almost dropping as he huffed angrily to himself, “That’s it, I’m going to talk with him. What’s wrong with that man? He’s beyond self-conceited and prides himself in being the most handsome God that he’s forgetting to pay some attention to you.”

           You blushed at Jimin’s words, hearing the anger in his voice.

           There was one thing you learned about these boys – it was that Jimin was a sweetheart, but if pushed, he could make Zeus himself fearful. Standing tall, he raged internally, his jaw clenched as he brushed back his hair messily – a habit of his that often-had men and women swooning.

           “Jimin, no need to get so worked up-”

           “But it’s utterly pathetic. He’s our older brother, yet Taehyung and I are set to wed before him! How embarrassing on his part. Can you even call yourself a God at that point?”

           He nailed it.

           “M-maybe Seokjin isn’t interested-”

           “Now, you’re starting to anger me, y/n.” Taehyung growled under his breath, his hazel eyes glaring at you with venom. Tones of exasperation and annoyance were unfamiliar, let alone having it directed towards yourself.

[teenwolfhot]

The Curse Ondine Scott McCall imagines part 1

Ondine was a nymph, a water goddess in French folk tale written by Friedrich de la Motte Fouqué. The tragic and tender love story has been made into both an opera and a ballet (Undine). Here is the story of Ondine.

Ondine was breathtakingly beautiful and possessed of a streak of independence, truly what we call a ‘free spirit’.

Like all nymphs and mermaids, she was leery of men. If a nymph ever falls in love with a man and bears his child, she will begin to age like a mortal woman, losing her eternal youthfulness and everlasting life.

Nonetheless, when Ondine saw the handsome young Palemon she was smitten and began to watch for him on his daily walks. When Palemon noticed her, he was taken by her incredible beauty and came back frequently to try to get a glimpse of her again.  

Eventually they talked and fell in love. He broke his engagement with the young noblewoman Berta and, in time, convinced Ondine to marry him. When they exchanged their wedding oaths, Palemon vowed that “My every waking breath shall be my pledge of love and faithfulness to you.”

But it was not to be.

The following year Ondine gave birth to their son. From that moment on, her beauty began to fade, her body suddenly susceptible to the effects of age. As her youthful attractiveness gave way to a more mature beauty, Palemon’s eye began to wander to the younger women he met at court.

One fateful day Ondine was out walking on their estate when she heard the sound of Palemon’s familiar snoring. Planning to take him back home so he could finish his nap, the amused Ondine entered the stables to wake him.

The scene she encountered filled her with great sorrow. Discarded garments littered the floor and her beloved Palemon lay sleeping in the haystack, his arms wrapped around his former fianceé Berta. Having sacrificed her immortality for this man, she was filled with anger and regret.

Kicking her sleeping husband, she woke him and uttered her curse. “You pledged faithfulness to me with your every waking breath and I accepted that pledge. So be it. For as long as you are awake, you shall breathe. But should you ever fall into sleep, that breath will desert you.”

Ondine still retained some of her magic … enough to make the curse come true. And so it was. Palemon would never sleep again.

————————————————–

So the Curse begins" my dear love palemon you shall feel weak now as such of centuries of denying my love and the Curse will take over “ what ondine didn’t know that palemon have successfully made another heir of a daughter which will carry the gene for her entire life.

As palemon becoming weak in the chair ondine didn’t realise she was still being played” father……… father “ as a young beautiful girl with (y/h/c) and beautiful facial features” my dear (y/n) “ as your father was weak no doctor could cure him or take on the research of finding a cure it was hopeless” father…… rest… father “ as a tastimony to ondine saw the young woman looking at palemon and new it was time” I’ll come for you when the time is right palemon “ as she vanished your father begins to yet have another session of unexplained shaking of his body.” father……… father “ you were screaming when suddenly you were woken up by isaac and Scott” (y/n)….. (y/n) “ both boys vigorously shaking you till” stop… Stop…. STOP!!! “ as they stop they look at you” you were screaming again “ isaac audible said while looking away.

” I’m fine “ sweat coming down your forehead” you sure “ as the boys leaving Melissa came in” darling (y/n) you alright? “ you nodded and lay back down again” not again “ you whispered

————————————-

As ondine knew her powers were weakening she knew she have to end the line that lead to palemon” I’ll shall take revenge just as your pathetic family shall ensure my own arrangements to your lust “ ondine had to find a way to know you

[hibiki-the-beast-archived]

Naughty revealings.

1. What’s the dirtiest thought you’ve ever had about a total stranger?

Indeed I am not very picky when it comes to men according their optics - their ability to please my extraordinary and vile desires is more important than any handsome face or a fit body. However not a wild aura and a masculine scent...mostly there are aspects like this which give me a mental cinema. But to come back to the topic, isn't it dirty enough to imagine myself being all tied up and blindfolded while a stranger takes advantage of me as if I was nothing more than a toy without an own mind and an own personality - but only if my Master gives this stranger permission to use me.

2. Do you prefer sex at night, in the morning, mid-afternoon, or NOW?

The night is my time, so I prefer it for any activity.

3. What’s your favorite way to be seduced?

Make me unconscious and tie me up, and when I wake up again and find me in this position I will be seduced. Alternatively let me smell blood or the scent of arousal.

4. What’s the dirtiest fantasy you’ve had at work?

Eating a fan out who was menstruating. I could smell a young woman in the first row was on her period and it distracted me very much during my performance. However, this not only happened once of course...

5. How would you dominate your boss sexually if given the chance?

My boss? Let us have a little change. How would I dominate my Master? Mhmh. I would tie him up and lick every inch of his godlike body (including his anus), scratching him and biting him and doing as I please...I would tease him as long as he would beg me to ride me. Seeing him desperate for once and openly crying for my body would be a big pleasure.

6. What do you do when you get horny in public?

Mostly nothing. Sometimes I spontaneously decide to make prey.

7. Have you ever masturbated in a public bathroom?

Masturbating isn't something I do often, so no, I haven't.

8. What’s the weirdest thing you’ve thought about while touching yourself?

Watching my Master (who not keeps me for sexual purposes at this time) breeding a female while I am in my cage in the same room, all naked and in need for attention so I spread my legs and show him what I have...I am not shaved yet, and so he decides to shave me after his guest had gone home (he says I am disgusting like this and it makes him vomit). The process of him making me ready for the mating which will follow soon in company with the distinct feeling of being his property is a big turn on for me.

9. What’s the strangest prop you’ve used to get yourself off?

A limb of a tree.

10. Do you remember the first time you felt aroused?

I can only remember that I was very aroused after I woke up as the creature I am today.

11. Who gave you your first orgasm?

It doesn't matter, and I can't remember. Probably I gave it myself. It is more important for me to know who gave me my first anal orgasm...

12. Do you remember what that first orgasm felt like?

This first anal? It was a ruined orgasm, but it was a disclosure nevertheless. My first real one? Pure bliss. A feral lust capturing my whole body. Not as heavy as a penile orgasm but the more intense. I became addicted for a reason.

13. Have you ever had sex with someone whose name you never knew?

Often, very often. Names are not important if the feelings are right and their blood is a feast. You don't ask for the name of your steak just as well, right?

14. What’s your favorite thing about a quickie?

That it is mostly short, brutal or at least a wild and messy encounter.

15. What the most sexually daring thing you’ve ever done?

Everything where my prey or me were on the edge of death was probably a daring thing to do.

16. Have you ever fantasized about fucking one of your teachers?

I don't think so.

17. Do you ever mentally strip strangers just for kicks?

Sometimes I am not only doing it mentally...but the curious beast I am I not only imagine them naked but how their voices may sound when they moan - or scream in pain.

18. And then imagine, in dirty detail, what it would be like to fuck them?

When I come to the conclusion that a man could have a big enough dick for me and the will to show me who is the boss my imagination can go very far.

19. Have you ever kissed someone of the same sex?

Normal human kissing I barely ever do, but I worship masculinity, I have done everything imaginable with men, and this with pure pleasure.

20. What inspires you to make the first move?

The scent.

21. In your opinion, what does it mean to be good in bed?

To be passionate and shameless.

22. Have you ever cheated on a boyfriend or girlfriend because you just couldn’t help yourself?

Kind of. Actually yes. However I am aware that I risk my life doing so while at the same time I will be nothing else than his forever because no one is able to give me similar experiences. But sometimes my instincts are louder than my loyalty.

23. Have you ever pushed the boundaries of fidelity to the brink and then retreated just for the rush?

This sounds like something I do. I am ready to go very far just for the thrill and to feel like a bad boy who needs a punishment.

24. Do you have a go-to masturbation fantasy?

Master ejaculating inside of me...and him beforehand speaking about what a huge load he has for me.

25. What kind of porn turns you on?

I barely watch porn, but seeing completely tied up persons who get tortured or just looked at being completely exposed and helpless turns me on very much when I project myself into the situation mentally.

26. Have you ever had sex with your eyes closed?

Mh? Is this supposed to mean if I ever wore a blindfold? I would love to make an experience like this.

27. Have you ever blindfolded or handcuffed your partner?

Both, yes. Blindfolding makes unwilling preys just as obedient as handcuffs.

28. Does naughty talk get you aroused?

So much! Plus it helps me finding into my submissive space if this is aimed.

29. Are you sure about that, my dirty little forest nymph of a sex goddess?

Oh, dirty little forest nymph fits me better than it probably should. Dirty little forest satyr, if I may correct it. But maybe I should mention that not everything that is supposed to be dirty talking turns me on, of course. The ideal case it is if the other one knows me well and knows which buttons he has to push and what imaginations arouse me the most. Standard dirty talking can be fine, but nothing is better than getting mentally stripped by someone who knows your weak spots. So you could say (emotional) intelligence is highly required.

30. What’s the dirtiest thing someone’s ever said to you during sex?

I assume I should mention my foible for letting everything seem as if we were two animals. For me it is very natural to do so because I am an animal, but at the same time I am aware of how kinky it is. 'Breed me', 'Fertilize me', 'Breeding season'...you better be into it if you try to seduce me.

31. Have you ever watched another couple get it on without them knowing?

Yes. I am very attentive and the smell bared what was going on before I could see it. However I prefer being involved.

32. Have you ever watched another couple have sex with their permission?

I once had the permission to watch my Master breeding a woman, and while I was actually mad that he preferred a female over me it aroused me very much to watch him.

33. How would you respond if a couple approached you to be their “third”?

I would not even hesitate to say yes. Especially not if this couple consisted of two very handsome gentlemen who are eager to top me...

34. What’s the most flattering thing someone’s said about your naked body?

I can't remember if someone ever said something about it. But back then the fans always were infatuated with my butt and called it sweet.

35. When’s the last time you had a vivid sex dream?

I don't sleep often and I dream even more seldom, but like two weeks ago I dreamed I was kidnapped by my Master and bred to be a real faggot. One of my favorite fantasies since this day.

36. What do you think an orgy would be like?

A mess where everyone had lost their sense of shame and the bodies of each and everyone as the center of attention, nothing else. And you should be alright with sharing. But I think an orgy is more fascinating and stimulating for a third party who just watches.

37. Have you ever propositioned a total stranger?

Yes.

38. What does your ideal one-night stand look like?

Short, wild, without any questions being asked while the both of us are aware that we will never meet again - but the memories of what we did have left their traces on my mate.

39. How long does it take you to get yourself off, on average?

Since I prefer rather unusual masturbating that requires more time but are important to imitate what my mental cinema shows me I need ten up to fifteen minutes. Or longer.

40. What’s the weirdest thing that turns you on?

Wetting myself while I get bred probably.

41. Have you ever had a naughty dream about a close friend or family member?

I learned very soon that the other members of my bands were no prey and they know how to protect themselves from me. However I can become very tame and cuddly around the ones I like. Pictures can be found on my blog, but they are embarrassing.

42. Have you ever woken up humping your pillow?

I either sleep or be sexually active. Have I ever woken up and began to hump the pillow? Yes. This is how I usually masturbate anyway.

43. When’s the last time you orgasmed in your sleep?

Since I get fairly enough sex during my times awake my body doesn't need sleep as an outlet. So I can't remember.

44. What’s the most embarrassing thing that’s happened to you while hooking up?

That I didn't even get a boner when I was with a woman. I have enormous problems acting straight.

45. Do you like touching yourself in front of the people you sleep with?

Only if it happens as a part of a game in which I am the submissive one and get the command to do so or if I am comfortable and shameless enough around a partner that I would do such a desperate deed.

46. What’s the dirtiest text you’ve ever sent or received?

I am not into texting. Talk face to face to me. But if necessary I can talk really dirty with a touch of threatening. Better appreciate the danger.

47. Do you prefer professional or amateur porn?

As I stated above I am not the biggest fan of pornography, but as someone who has a sense for aesthetic, for expressing myself and making flicks which are nice to watch I prefer professional porn.

48. What’s your favorite blowjob technique?

I am not an expert for blowjobs at all and I don't practice them often, but I like everything I can use my tongue for in particular. Wet, messy and noisy blowjobs that sound as if you engulf someone and have your greatest feast are the best ones.

49. If you had to pick, would you be a dominatrix or a submissive?

Why is this meme only for females? If I would have to pick I would choose being submissive without even thinking for too long. But I am a bratty and brutal submissive that can easily get confused for a rough top. I am indeed both, but the former is my true nature. It doesn't happen often that someone makes me wish to dominate them lately.

50. Is there anything you won’t do in bed?

I think the usual taboos like playing with vomit and shit. Besides of that I don't have limits.