#the long war is the destruction of manhood

[bimbutchpride]

Refering to any transfems out for longer than 5 years as "veterans of the long war"

#for those curious its been 13 years for me #the long war is the destruction of manhood

[notknickers]

kortac's new seasonal uniforms

with the change of season comes a change in tactical clothing necessities.

click below the cut for a preview of the kind of fashion that will become prevalent on base and field alike.

a disclaimer, before we begin: colonel könig kindly offered to model the new uniforms out of the kindness of his bottomless heart and his strong sense for duty and commitment.

he was not:

lured in a trap under false pretenses; (the colonel is a hard one to dupe... would be reason for pride if someone concocted a successful plan... but we wouldn't know about it, because NOBODY at kortac DID.)

injected with potent anesthetics against his will and without his informed consent according to his height and weight to ensure optimal duration; (access to said information about our contractors is available to kortac for safety reasons: no malicious use of said info is ever intended.)

stripped and redressed while unconscious multiple times; (no one at the base is suddenly feeling insecure about his manhood, alright? NO ONE!)

given a different cocktail of substances to ensure compliance; (and even if that happened - which it didn't - no harm would come of it, thanks to the up-to-date medical information kortac keeps of our contractors. i told you it was just for safety reasons...)

unwillingly or unlawfully detained until all outfits have been modeled for; (there is no known detention area at kortac's hqs.)

efficiently blackmailed to ensure no retaliation; (medical information is not all kortac keep abreast of.)

i repeat, quite emphatically, no colonel was harmed longterm. for security reasons, no further private details about a contractor shall be given.

01. the leather daddy

the perfect outfit to blend amongst queer subversives.

whether infiltrating and fomenting discord amongst the targets or removing key figures of queer liberation from circulation, this high-quality, black leather uniform will get you as close as you like... or don't...

according to our intel, they are excellent at sabotaging each other without the need for external interference, but kortac bought the uniforms, already, so here they are.

02. the children's hospital

red means love

tasked with protecting a client from further harm after they incurred injury, or with being the last thing your hospitalised target sees? look no further! a blend of reds to blend with architecture and personnel alike and no one will be able to tell you from the medical environment.

also, great for camouflaging blood stains.

03. fire in the hole!

the king is smo-oh-king! tsssssssssssss... ouch!

arsonist or sapper, the fiery uniform will let your comrades know it's time to mind their step when you're around or... kahboom!

friendly fire is such a tragedy...

04. grey mist

plain but lethal

luxurious, grey velvet to find your way to your target as quietly and inconspicuously as a cat. a must-have for the assassin-for-hire in the ranks.

05. latex

always play safe

medics! this semi-transparent latex uniform was thought especially for you! whether running routine tests on base soldiers or bringing succour in the midst of chaos, your patients will now have more than one reason to be happy to see you.

gloves not included.

06. retrofuture

oooohhhh! shiny!

stuck in a contract as bodyguard, playing nanny to some washed-up '90s pop/r&b star? daze and confuse paparazzos and stalkers alike with your dazzling silver outfit.

shine like the star you never could have otherwise been!

07. explosions in the night

get out the war veteran in you

life as a contractor can be challenging. it easily goes from adrenaline-filled operations where a single wrong move could spell the end, to long bouts on base, training and interacting with roughly the same people just like that!

so gather round your comrades, down a pint or ten and let the orange flames rising towards the cold, nightsky lead you all to collectively reminesce about all the chaos and destruction, whose consequences will probably outlive all of you, that you have wrought in your career.

(presence of one or more base psychologists advised.)

08. plasma core

for the professional crawler who likes to indulge his vanity

tired of you old, plain fatigues, after spending all that time studying escape routes and subterranean entrances of your target location? disappear in every tunnel, man-made or not, with this appropriately-hued uniform.

debris-filled and collapsed ruins, damp and dark caves, stinky sewers, the magma-filled centre of the earth itself... no hole in the ground will be match for you!

09. acid queen

ooohh... it glows!

looking to infiltrate techno clubs or desert raves? don't forget your signature outfit uniform, then!

10. höloqueen

regular

risqué

you're lost. exhausted. enemy troops are on your heels and their dogs have your scent. you and your team got separated, your rations won't last you the night and you're running our of ammo... most of all, nobody knows where you are and, probably never will.

does that sound frightening? does that sound familiar?

forget your flare gun and forget that scenario altogether. the höloqueen will get you back to your team members and safe home in no time.

kortac claims no responsibility for improper use that gets the operator spotted by enemy assets.

11. lace angel

matte

sheer

you didn't think kortac would think of everything but underclothes, did you?

hm, what's that? do you want to be found in your grandma's knickers when a high-ranking official takes a special interest in you, or your comrades surprise you en masse with a unanimous election to barracks bunny?

hm, didn't think so...

fraternisation? this isn't the military. this is a private company.

similar rates of abuse of power and sexual assault, you say?

...

oh, look! it seems the other soldiers on the base are exchanging war stories! why don't you join them? here, don't forget your complementary explosions in the night outfit!

thank you @kathy-ifnt for helping me adjust the proportions, your advices and resources and, most of all, listening to my whining ♥

#cod #call of duty #cod shitpost #könig #konig #könig cod #konig cod #könig mw2 #konig mw2 #könig mwii #konig mwii #könig headcanons #konig headcanons #könig x reader #konig x reader #könig x you #konig x you #könig smut #konig smut #könig fanart #konig fanart #minors dni #my doodles

[the-hem]

The Method and Practice of Upanishad.

Upanishad means “to bind truth to the mind.” It is used as a framework for analysis of religious writing, almost all of which is encrypted in allegory, in order to discover what is real and true about the nature of God and His Will for us. 

The practice of Upanishad is not unlike the drafting of an argumentative essay. There must be a hypothesis, arguments, and conclusions drawn all of which must be provable using statements from within the religious text, litmus tested in practice. 

Here are some basic assumptions about all faiths and their documents, which are considered portions of one long Script. The Script and its contributors were ordained by God to help humanity evolve, one person and each generation at a time away from their animal natures and historical mistakes. Success all around, in other words. 

Goals do not include helping people obtain forgiveness or salvation, to establish the supremacy of one faith over another, or broker power to any one person, political party, or organization. 

God is real, His nature is observable, His Spirit is accessible, and He is actively participating in our affairs. This much we know. Upanishad helps us realize what is omnipresent and evergreen about God but veiled to us because we are rebellious. Rebelliousness against God’s Decrees is forgivable, by Him, not necessarily by the Law, and is highly undesirable. 

The more we dig, called hepher in Hebrew, the more worth in scripture we will find. From Parsha Ekev, “Respiration”, (Deuteronomy 7:12–11:25)  contained in the Torah, 

6 Observe the commands of the Lord your God, walking in obedience to him and revering him. 7 For the Lord your God is bringing you into a good land—a land with brooks, streams, and deep springs gushing out into the valleys and hills; 8 a land with wheat and barley, vines and fig trees, pomegranates, olive oil and honey; 9 a land where bread will not be scarce and you will lack nothing; a land where the rocks are iron and you can dig copper out of the hills.

These section of Parsha Ekev, which refers to the inhaling of the Word of God and the exhaling of virtue, is perfect for the application of Upanishad.

The Hypothesis: Torah means “Effort”. The Effort God wants us to undertake is the making of a brilliant civilization. In the Torah this is called Havoth Jair, “villages of enlightenment.”

The place these villages will take place in will be braced by brooks and streams. Water in the Torah is always a threshold. God uses it to separate Self from not-self, light from darkness, intelligence from ignorance, adolescence from manhood. Crossing the Jordan is associated with baptism in Judaism, and is considered separation from the dream like, dumbass-like state of youth into the new territory of adulthood where duty, responsibility, friendship with and without benefits, and equity in God’s bounty culminate.

Wheat represents the alphabet and all the words, sentences and paragraphs upon which civilization depends for its intelligence to develop.

Barley is used to make bread is synonymous with technological development. The ability to farm foodstuffs and provide bread to others is the foundation of civilized life. 

Vines signify the making of wine, the hallmark of civilizations that are able to revel in comfort. 

Fig trees symbolize peace: guns, wars, strife, rape, extortion none of these are permitted in civilization according to the Torah. 

Pomegranates are the learned- persons who extend life and its possibilities by contributing their wisdom and expertise to the complex problems associated with life on earth. 

Olive Oil is used for lighting lamps, and signifies clergy. The presence of clergy is another sign a culture is interested in obeying God and achieving repeat success. 

Iron in the Torah refers to a man’s tool. There are beneficial and very, very, annoying and destructive uses of iron. 

Copper, “scripture” which the Torah says we dig for is the same as the Upanishadic method of the Torah. Copper it is said, is used for the Altar, the place where all sacrifices are made for the forgiveness of sin for the sake of peace on earth. 

As the Parsha says, we revere and worship God in order to gain competency with the former, and learn how to improve the conditions on earth by building these villages God stipulates. 

The Upanishads and the Torah alike dismisses all faith based arguments, rhetoric and propaganda. There are facts about God and about us out there, hovering waiting for us to make use of them. 

It is our duty to use the Script in order to prove we can live here in a way that is balanced, good, kind, and free of trouble. The requirements and measurements of success are above, thanks to the Torah. 

Everything we read and practice in the Script should refer back to these founding principals of civilization, and we should grade ourselves, pass or fail? 

At present, it seems like we are failing. 

The world has been poisoned, it is overheating, there are wars, dictatorships, hundreds of millions of refugees, dying plants, animals, people and places in growing numbers. 

We are perennially distracted with issues and persons of no consequence to the problems we simply must contend with and resolve. This is being caused by an attitude problem, one we can change. And for that, and as soon as possible, let us pray, and let us study. 

“Did I leave the iron on?” He wonders, and then goes back to the Script. Pumping iron like practicing one’s faith, gets better the more you do it. 

[victormilanbooks]

Gods of Dinosaur lords

God’s of Dinosaur Lords 

Adan, Aidan, Trueno, Thunder -

Duke of the creators: Zhen (Thunder) The Oldest Son.

 Represents Manhood, commerces, wealth and impoverishment, agriculture, and Storms. Also domestic beasts. Know for his expansive, 

Aspect: a handsome man with black hair and brown skin, clad in green tunic, a dog beside him, his feet hidden in clouds. 

Sacred Animal: dog

Color : green. 

Symbol : a green hammer. 

Bella, Belle,  Lady Li

Countess of the creators: Li (fire) the middle daughter.

Represents Beauty (and its inevitable withering), the arts, truth, lust, passion, and obsession, time and Fire. Also cats. Know for her passion. 

Aspect: a beautiful red-haired young woman in an orange gown garlanded with white flowers, holding a flame in her right palm and mirror with a cross bar in her left hand. 

Sacred animal: cat (depicted as an orange tabby tom)

Colors: Red and orange

Symbol: Beauty’s mirror (a circle on a handle with a cross piece)

Chian, El Rey, The King, Padre Cielo, Father Sky-

King of creators: Qian (Haven) The Father.

Represents fatherhood, rule, (and misrule), power, and the Sun. Also dinosaurs. Known as his majesty. 

Aspect: A Sturdy, white bearded man with gold-trimmed scarlet robe and golden scepter, sitting on a throne. 

Sacred Animal: Tyrannosaurus Rex

Color: gold

Symbol: a golden crown

Lanza, Lance 

 Count of the creators, Kan (Water) The middle son. 

Represents war and peace. Aggression and mercy, victory and defeat; and Serene Water (ponds, pools, rivers) Also war beasts. Known for his valor. 

Aspect: a handsome young black man in full blue plate, with one foot on a corpse, holding a long-sword point-down.

 Sacred animal: Triceratops 

Colors: Black and blue 

Symbol: an inverted longsword. 

Maia, La Madre, the Mother, Madre Terra,  Mother Land

Queen of the creators : Kun (land) The mother.

 Represents Motherhood, soft power, birth (and death), healing and Paradise. Also mammals. Known for her compassion. 

Aspect: beautiful grey-haired matron in brown-and-gold gown, holding a sheaf of wheat in one hand and a sickle in the other. 

Sacred Animal: horse 

Color: brown

Symbol: a wheat sheaf. 

Maris, La Dama Fortuna, Lady Fortune-

Baroness of the Creators: Dui (lake)- the youngest daughter. 

Represents Fortune and the sea, justice, fate, mariners, gambling, balance and imbalance; Equilibrium, and Wild Water. Also fish and swimming reptiles. Known for her caprice.

Aspect: a slight albino woman with blue eyes and long, windblown white hair, dressed in a white robe, with the taijitu in her raised left palm. 

Sacred Animals: terrible mouth sea dragon )often shown devouring a man).

Color: white

Symbol: a silver eight-spoked ship wheel

Telar, Laventosa, Windy, La Tejedora de Suenors, Dreamweaver

Duchess of the creators: Xun (Wind) The oldest Daughter.

Represents fabrications and destruction, artisans, sleep and dreams, forests and Wind. also birds and fliers. Know for her vigor. 

Aspect: a woman with long, kinky gold hair in green-trimmed with gown, working a loom, as long-crested dragon above her. 

Sacred Animal: long-crested dragon

Color: Green

Symbol: a golden loom.

Torre, Torrey - 

Barron of the creators: Gen (mountain) The youngest Son. Represents Order (yet he’s the Trickster), law, bureaucracy, priests, smiths, miners, masons, and Mountains. Also burrowing animals. Known for his authority.

Aspects: a powerful blond youth with a gold mail hauberk over a brown tunic, holding a hammer and a shovel. 

Sacred animal: ferret 

Colors: brown and yellow

Symbol: the golden tower.

--- 

Other

Angeles Grises, Grey angels, the Seven: They have the task of maintaining the creator's’ sacred equilibrium on Paradise. They possess remarkable powers of mystic weapons, and when they walk out in the world. They often take a terrifying appearance. They are not humane, and regard all things as straw dogs. 

The creators’ supernatural servitors: 

Michael:

Gabreil:

Raphael:

Uriel:

Remiel :

Zerachiel :

Reguel :

The concepts of the gods:

Victor Milan: “Because the Creators drew heavily on Taoism in creating their own mythos. A thing in effect implies its opposite.”

https://upload.wikimedia.org/.../253px-Yin_yang.svg.png

[thesolyanka]

Cancel russian culture

by Ivan Semesyuk

Greetings, I'm Ivan Semesyuk, a Ukrainian artist, writer, musician and the host of the media project about Ukrainian identity – Instruction.UA. The objective of this project is to tell Ukrainians about Ukrainians. About who we are, what we are, and the meaning of our existence. Before the war, we managed to have shot only 12 issues with various expert guests: historians, cultural figures, businessmen, strategists, politicians. We remembered ourselves, planned our common future, and looked for our real names in these issues. And we have those names. According to our media research, Ukrainians have two more titles. Ukrainians are the Love. Ukrainians are the Freedom. And as you can see now: Ukrainians are the passionate, indomitable, overall love of Freedom.

However, now is the time to tell the world about something else. Not about us, Ukrainians, but about those who have now come to our Ukraine with a horrible invasion. About the russians, whom we now know all too well, and about what drives them in their bloody madness. The world condemns russia's horrific, unprecedented aggression against free Ukraine. The attack with ballistic missile launches on our cities, with jet artillery on peaceful neighbourhoods, with the shooting of civilians, with Ukrainian children killed by russians and many other disasters of ours.

The world strongly condemns putin and condemns the russian government and russia's political elites, which is correct. Yet the world still does not know, understand, why has it happened again? Why does russia kill everything it sees again and again? Where does precisely the russian ring of almightiness, the Ring of putin's power, of this new Sauron, lie? A ring that radiates endless and forever massive tragedies. We, Ukrainians, know the answer, and we know it better than you, naive people of the free West.

The ring is hidden where you will never look for it - deep inside the russian culture, within its foundations. The world condemns everything but does not condemn (more important, actively defends) the leading cause of the new war - their well-spread culture, so mysterious and so romantic if perceived in bad translations. The culture of russians is that same ring of Sauron, which has been nourishing pure evil for a long time.

It will be hard for you to believe it, but you will. Their culture is a culture of war, death, contempt and pride, and bloody sacrifices, a culture that has been fundamentally chauvinistic since its foundation. It is fundamentally chauvinistic about everything DIFFERENT.

Acting by the principle of viral invasion, russian culture is well disguised under such familiar to you humanistic, at first glance relatively Westernized forms. Still, in essence, it has an entirely opposite to European (and Western in general) cultural code. A living person has never had a place in this culture, except for the great ideological projects. Hence, the total falsehood, bloodthirstiness, insidiousness, regular famines, genocides and wars. In this lies the meaning and purpose of the existence of russian culture - to be the open gate for entropy, to be the black funnel of the destruction of God's world.

We appeal to you to start acknowledging what is simple and obvious to us: your favourite tolstoy and dostoevsky exist only to sanction evil, to provide it with a reliable cover, through which for years you cannot catch the essence of what is going on in Eastern Europe. They exist only to put you to bed and then break into your house at night and kill all its inhabitants. From this point of view, russian culture is not a culture at all. It does not serve manhood and its humane aspirations, but imposes black chauvinism as a single national idea. It is a deceptive, cyclopean forgery; this is a Frankenstein, collected from fragments stolen all around the Western world. It is a mummy drenched in a cult of pain and suicide. This culture crushed many, and most importantly, russians themselves, turning them into numb servants of the historical death harvester named “russia” (just as stolen as everything else).

Naive people of the Free West, You have been deceived. Russia does not make and has never made any human senses. You got fucked. Russian culture is a stretched in time cyclopean terrorist act. Do not believe them. Do not ever believe a thing of theirs. Do not let them into your head and heart, or they will come to you with tolstoy and dostoevsky, and together, they will kill your children, as they have been killing ours for centuries. What is it that every citizen of the world can do now to prevent Russia and its barbaric terrorism from invading the civilized world ever again? Stop consuming the russian cultural product: literature, cinema, music, art, bloggers - cancel. Submit petitions to exclude russia from all international cultural organizations and unions. Do not allow russian artists to participate in international festivals, exhibitions, symposiums, etc. Forget about the "mysterious russian soul". It is the soul of the prisoner and murderer. You will not find there anything but the wish of death to everything that differs from it.

We, Ukrainians, will never be put to sleep or deceived by these orks of putin. We will definitely obtain the victory in this war for Freedom because we can see right through this ferocious enemy - right to its slavish core.

Glory to Ukraine! 🇺🇦

#cancelrussianculture #сучукрліт #злючий архів #boycott russia #війна

[ginazmemeoir]

for @gopikanyari - i couldn't draw them but i did write this fic.

tagging @taareginn @momo-all-the-way @dragonfairy1231 @aadyeah @weird-u @holding-infinity-and-a-book @aloomu @carmen-riddle @mango-pickle

Everything slows down. All I feel is my breath, the sweat trickling down my face, and the tension in my hand dissipating as I release the knife and let it fly. It strikes the dummy with a ‘thwack’, and I keep staring at it. Miss. Again.

My father didn’t consider educating his youngest child, a girl, in the art of warfare. So after getting married to five men, all brothers, in a strange twist of fate, having near death experiences in the forest and at my husbands’ home in Hastinapur, I decided to instruct myself. Swords made me feel confident, bows and arrows made me feel like a hero in an epic, but knives? They made me feel like a toddler playing pretend. And yet, Drona, my husbands’ mentor and father’s sworn enemy, insisted on teaching me in “the art of the blade”.

I lean against the wall, wiping the sweat off using a cloth, and head for a bath. As I exit, my maid Malti approaches me, her face writ with worry. “Um… uh… Your Majesty…” she stutters. I place my hand on her shoulder and calm her down, “What happened Malti? Something in your family?” I ask. Instead, Malti hands me a card. I take it from her, beaming at the seal – a dolphin encircled by a peacock feather – Krishna’s emblem. I greedily tear the elaborate wrapping, desperate for the kind of raucous and “unladylike” interaction that I only got with Krishna. My eyes skim over the letter’s contents, and my heart sinks. “Impossible,” I mutter, clutching the letter in my hand, “my husbands promised me complete fidelity. They cannot remarry again.” Malti, her voice trembling, then uttered the words which my feeble brain couldn’t read, “Your Highness, the invite was delivered by a member of the Dwaraka council. Prince Arjuna is getting married to Subhadra, Lord Govinda’s sister.”

The streets of Hastinapur are jubilant with celebrations, as their prince returns with his new bride. All over the city, repairs were done, and frivolous, expensive structures were erected, all in an effort to show the audacious wealth of the Kuru empire. The cheerful, flower and gold bedecked exterior hid the internal deformities. Suyodhana’s maternal uncle, Shakuni, or as everybody called him in the land – the snake – fumed at what had transpired (from what I gathered Suyodhana was to be wed to Subhadra, who had eloped with my husband); King Dhritarashtra boiled in silent anger, while Queen Gandhari taunted and cried out her distress every now and then.

Arjuna arrived on the gates of the palace, his new bride at his side, followed by my other husbands (his brothers) and Krishna. Both bride and groom were bedecked in the finest of clothes and jewels, looking like overstuffed dummies. Even from here in my balcony, I could clearly see the bride’s discomfort in wearing the heavy jewellery and silks preferred by the Hastinapur royalty even in the scorching summer. All the ceremonies and rituals were performed with due tradition, thus amounting to an hour or two, and then only did the entourage enter the palace. I hurry down to meet the party, when I see the newlyweds walking towards me. Anger floods every pore of my body. Had I had my way, I would have scorched the palace with the same fire from which I was born. What kind of man is this cruel, taking his second wife to meet his first? Disgusted I slam the door on their stricken faces, and bury myself in my misery. Was I never destined to be happy?

The years pass by, and an unlikely bond forms between Subhadra and I – the kind of bond shared by mothers. It took six pregnancies to break the barrier between us, and she had approached first. That would always be a guilt I would carry – that I hadn’t extended my hand earlier, blinded by pride and anger. Soon, awkwardness gives place to an unlikely friendship, with her teaching me the various wonders of the world she had seen on her various trips; Greece, China, the Golden Isand of Lanka, she had seen it all. Meanwhile I taught her how to wield a sword , and helped her navigate the tricky waters of politics and party throwing. It was a rare, pure friendship – one spent wearing a cotton sari under a scorching sun, eating mangoes with sticky hands and giggling, one I had never experienced before.

I walk towards my palace. Or, not my palace, since Duryodhana owns it now. Nothing is left, not even my pride and dignity. My dishevelled appearance, torn sari, entangled hair and bruises make for a frightening appearance apparently, stunning everybody into silence. I don’t feel human anymore, just a husk slowly inching its way before it collapses, for my soul was stripped along with my clothes in that den of gamblers and cowards. I seethe with a burning hatred against my husbands, pretentious motherfuckers cowering behind their false dharma and “code of chivalry”, which conveniently vanished when they took multiple wives and yet made me marry all five of them against my will. I want to rage and burn and destroy and drink the blood of Dushasana and use Duryodhana’s skull as the cup. I thought my city, this magnificent city of Indraprastha, loved me the same way I loved it. And yet, in my darkest hours, none came to stop what followed, except perhaps Vikarna, a brother of the man whom I didn’t consider human. Subhadra was in the guava orchards with Abhimanyu, when she saw me. She quickly put him down, and rushed towards me, trying to cover me with a scarf, as if I cared anymore. She took me inside, and drew a bath for me. That day, I scrubbed my skin raw till it turned red and almost tore my hair from my scalp, trying to rid myself of Dushasana’s filthy touch. She then gives me some khus, which I drink gingerly, my tears mixing with the sweet green concoction. At first, she looks stricken, unable to believe what had transpired. Disbelief gave way to pity, which gave way to anger. “It’s useless Subhadra. Nothing is left. And I will make sure, that nothing will be.” I console her. I see the fear in her eyes then. Good. People had forgotten who I was, but I’d make sure I’d remind them in the years to follow. They blamed me for what had happened right, that I was too weak or too proud? Well then I’d like to prove them right. I am Draupadi. Paanchali. Yajnaseni. Born from fire, born to wreak havoc, born to change the fate of this cursed land of Jambudweep, where the roll of a dice values more than a person.

The 13 years that follow are spent in agony. Twelve years of wandering in the forest, facing arrogant saints and malevolent creatures. I keep wondering of Subhadra and my kids. When she had heard the news, she had slapped an unsuspecting Arjuna, and taken Abhimanyu and my kids with her to Dwarka, safe and secure, forbidding him to show her his face until he proved himself worthy. Arjuna soon parted ways with us in the forest, going off on some adventure, finding new beauties to marry and accumulating more powers for the war to follow. I meet Hidimba in the forest as well, Bhima’s first wife. I envy her freedom and her life. And then comes the dreaded year of agyaatvasa – living in the shadows, for fear of recognition. Yudhishthira becomes advisor to King Virata of Matsya, Bhima a cook, Nakula the master of stables, Sahadev a shepherd and I, the mighty Draupadi? A hairdresser. How cruel life was, making the woman who kept her hair unkempt and open as a reminder of her revenge, a hairdresser to a queen. Arjuna also returned, but as the eunuch dancer Brihannala. Even here, peace eluded me as the queen’s brother Keechaka turned his perverted gaze towards me. But this time, I had enough. And so I invite him to a secluded spot and then have his skull crushed by Bhima.

It’s the time of war. Vultures and hyenas gather in the fields of Kurukshetra in anticipation of the feast to follow. I reside in the camp with the other ladies and children of the house. I am unable to recognize my own kids at first, how quickly they’ve grown and how much they have changed. They greet me with the same love and respect, but something has changed fundamentally in our relationship, a cherished bond that would never be the same. Subhadra is there by my side, making me live their childhood through their mischievous stories and their life at Dwarka, and yet my mind wanders to our six sons – wearing their armour and lifting their weapons, barely on the cusp of manhood and yet already thrust into a war that isn’t their own. I stopped believing in gods long since, and yet I pray to any that might exist with a shred of mercy in their heart towards me – let my children live.

Abhimanyu’s mutilated corpse greets us on the thirteenth day of war. His body looked so gruesome, even Yamraj would have shuddered. Subhadra’s wails pierce through the sky, reverberating more than the clang of metal and steel. She reaches for Abhimanyu’s body, hugging him close, with his head on her lap, embracing her son for a final time before the fires engulfed him. I am too shocked, and Subhadra too bereaved, to either comfort or be comforted. There is no sermon, no balm, no magic for this loss. His loss permeates into every single cell of our being, and stays there. Subhadra cries the entire night, her eyes red from crying, consuming neither food nor water. I stay by her side all along. The other ladies comfort his wife Uttara, in the final month of her pregnancy, devastated by the destruction of her own small world before it could begin. Finally, when dawn breaks, and her body is devoid of tears, does Subhadra arise, but she’s not the same. She goes with the Pandavas to cremate her only child, and returns back. She utters not a single word, conveys not a single emotion. She doesn’t rage like fire – she is instead like the oceans near her home. A turbulent storm rages within, which the calm face doesn’t give away.

I come back to my tent having exacted my revenge. The sound of Dushasana’s arms being ripped off, his skull cracking open echo in my ears. My hair drip with his blood, my face smeared with sweat. I thought I would feel victorious, at peace now that I had avenged myself, avenged Abhimanyu’s death. But then Subhadra gazes at me, and a single gaze is enough to communicate everything in my heart. Is this who I am now? What more atrocities would be committed in this war?

The war has come at an end, as Duryodhana lies dying in agony, his thighs shattered. I go with everybody to cremate the fallen and pay my respects to Grandsire Bhishma, as he too draws his last breath upon his bed of arrows and leaves this world. All the bodies are collected in a massive mountain of rotting half eaten flesh, and cremated. The fire blazes high, an inferno reaching for the skies, taking the souls of everybody within it towards Indra’s court, which receives anybody who dies fighting. The flame reminds me of my own birth, which seems like a lifetime away. I return back to camp, weary from all the death that surrounded me, and am instead greeted by a fresh nightmare. My brother Dhrishtadyumna’s head hangs at the gate, his decapitated body beneath him, hands closed around his sword even in death. I rush in to find everybody dead – physicians, maids, cooks, attendants, charioteers, guards, everybody. I enter my sons’ tent, fearing the worst and that is when I see their corpses. They were still in bed. Sleeping. They were supposed to ride out tomorrow to Indraprastha, their true home. They were supposed to grow up and live their life far away from court or war. They were planning to finally visit the fabled Palace of Illusions, swimming in the Mirror Lake, plucking fresh fruits from the orchards. Sutasoma intended to devour all the books he could lay his hands on. Prativindhya wanted to try wine. Srutakarma wanted to learn pottery and sculpting. Shatanika wanted to try make up, while Shrutasena wanted to learn music and painting. My children were robbed of their lives and their futures in their sleep. Now I truly knew the meaning of loss. I would rather die a thousand times over just so I could bring them back. I collapse, the last thing I hear is Subhadra shouting my name. I don’t feel the ground as I fall.

It is in this hell on earth does Subhadra’s daughter in law Uttara give birth. She screams in pain as she tries to push her child out of her womb, the last child of a massacred dynasty, when the room suddenly fills with a scorching white light. It disappears as suddenly as it arrived, and everybody immediately figures out what happened. The Brahmastra, the strongest weapon in the universe. Aimed directly at Uttara’s womb and her unborn child. It is an unspeakable crime. The death of his grandnephew makes Krishna goes insane, and for the first time in my life, I see him become the angel of death. He picks up the babe, and proclaims, “If I have been a truly righteous human, let this child come to life.” The child, a boy, gasps and cries, strong and powerful. I have stopped believing in miracles, but this is one I admit. Subhadra reached for her grandson, and cradles him in her arms. Her tears drop on his forehead, as she smiles at him. As she hands the baby to me, there’s an understanding in our eyes. An agreement. A promise. Never shall this child know suffering. Never shall this child know pain. He will have what we could not. He will have a childhood, a future, a life.

We make this oath to ourselves. Sisters, united by pain, suffering and hope.

#draupadi #subhadra #paanchali #panchali #mahabharat #mahabharata #india #hindu mythology #mythology #story time #vasu

[chiimmchiimm]

❝𝓈𝑜𝓊𝓁𝓂𝒶𝓉𝑒 !¡ 𝒿𝓀❞

The god Ares the Olympus had become too small, envious of his brother Hefesto for having found his soul mate can not help but think how lonely he really is. Everyone feared him for being the god of war, not everyone would be so brave to love being the bearer of destruction and violence. Destined to suffer decades of loneliness, he is pleading with his brother Apollo to speak to him about the land. The sun god stunned by his brother’s sadness tells him about a girl born to a king whose rumors dictate that her beauty could rival the goddess Aphrodite. Desperate Ares pleads with the god to follow the story. The god of war is so in love with her that when he first sees her he can’t help but think that he had found his soul mate.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookgod x (female: Lina) 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut, fluff, angst, one-shot, greek god au. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 25 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: dirty vocabulary, insults that only the gods understand, rather macho insults, Greek artifacts, real duties, sexual attraction, violent assaults, blood, sexy scar, beatings, idialization for love, unrequited excess love (at first), sexy tunics with everything in the air, strange spells, fights (the protagonist is the god of war that you expected?), jealousy, a lot of jealousy, enemy, envy, theft of women, situations of frustrated love, war, desperation to be loved, Greek vocabulary, hormones gods through the clouds, sex everywhere, tongue kisses, rough sex, female fingering, teeth marks, loss of virginity, female oral, male oral, scratches on the back, spectacular body, abs out of this world . 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: Honestly, I always wanted to make a short story for members with the theme of Greek gods because soon they are not tremendous gods fallen from the sky? I adore Greek mythology and if this part goes well I am thinking of doing a series with all the members.

Life on Olympus was full of joy and gladness everywhere, the gods enjoyed immortality with humble decorum. Each and every one of them was responsibly involved in their duties from the first magenta ray of dawn to the blue-white night in the moonlight. Happy Without any regret. Being a god had many advantages. Obtaining the free management of their life almost always gave them full satisfaction, they could enjoy passionate sex, the stoic feeling of love, and all the food and wine available. However, there were always two sides not the same coin. They could do their work without limits, exhausting to the extreme all their deepest desires in humans.

That was the problem in question.

Humans were easy to win, most gods were revered and idealized for what they were, superior supernatural creatures in any term. Each season. Every day. They were prayed for by every mortal who prided himself on wanting his favors. Some prayed to Hera for good harvests that year, others to Aphrodite for luck in the love or fertility of new offspring. Another matter were those who anxiously wished that the most cruel and bloody god would hear their prayers. Ares received hundreds of demands, some from ambitious men who wanted blood for the sake of territorial accommodation, others however, for other severely more noble matters. Just as humans were too influential, they were also too spiteful. If any of their requests did not come to fruition they would destroy the altars angrily for having been ignored. The god of war who was very proud punished anyone who tainted his good name and work.

Everyone loved the good gods, and everyone, everyone, hated Ares for his thirst for destruction. That fear of being benefited by his anger was what kept more than one away. No one wanted to approach him for fear of being reciprocated with fury. His character was known to many as the fairest, but also the most explosive. His own royal brothers not to be spattered by the fire that came out of his eyes kept away focusing on their work.

This was how he became completely alone. The gods ignored him. There came a time when the only voice he heard was the one originating in his head. The humans had stopped praying to him for worship just to do it when they wanted his enormous favors from God.

His heart was emptying more and more. A great dark pit as deep as tartar was built dangerously over time. To the point, of having taken away the taste of his life in paradise. The only satisfaction he had was when he punished a criminal and sent him to his uncle Hades. But all that light was shallow, a blanket covering his true ambitions.

And is that the god was sick of being alone.

"Humans are impatient for this year's crops, Demeter," the all-powerful god of thunder commented briefly. The woman, beautiful as a rose petal in spring, tossed her long blonde hair, then nodded with innate elegance.

"I have already started to melt the northern frosts, brother." I assure with a smile almost as dazzling as his the god Apollo sitting in one of the gods' chairs. Every day, before Jimin the Moon God, will rest definitively to give way to the lucid awakening of the dark blue sky, the gods gathered to make sure that the functions were well attended. There had not yet been a time when the gods had escaped from their labors. Exercising the role of god of gods, Hoseok or Zeus as he was well known to mortals, he made a small reminder to his children and brothers that they all fulfill their obligations.

"I trust Apollo will help you carefully," Hoseok said, capturing the enthusiastic attention of the sun god.

"You know father that I love to heat the atmosphere."

"Yes, but be careful nephew lest you evaporate my beloved seas," his Uncle Jin, or vilely human-named Posidon, gracefully exposed from his relaxed position in one of the armchairs next to Hoseok.

Giving a knowing smile to the rogue's double meanings, Taehyung shifted his gaze to his other son, Yoongi, the god of fire.

"I will keep fires away from tall wheat grasses."

"And I will see to it that the productivity of mortals is increased to increase the number of children born." The goddess of love, Julia spoke sweetly, sliding her thin and soft arm to hook it on the body of her husband Yoongi. Hoseok nodded in agreement with the extensive collaboration that had been present. If everything went as he really wanted, in the end they would be in a good year. All the joy seemed to vanish almost as fast as a leaf blown by the wind. Hoseok couldn't help but notice Ares's position so low. Accustomed to his comments on the foolish decisions of humans, seeing him in silence, with his mouth closed, absent from the conversation because he was engulfed in his deep unsatisfied desires, had caused the god great sadness.

“Jungkook?” When his father spoke his name so tenderly the god came out of his thoughts. His brothers watched him in sorrow, his face turned pale these days, taking with him his rosy cheeks so charming. "A great war will soon break through. I trust that you will know how to condemn tyrants and save clean souls."

"Yes, father." I speak out of obligation. He had been tortured in a dark solitude for so long that he had almost forgotten what it was like to hear someone else's voice, and darkly what the tone of his hoarse voice was like.

The meeting passed peacefully for a couple more hours until Jimin passed through the two large columns, breaking into the main discussion room. The gods quickly dispersed to attend to their labors. Ares got up slowly, almost without strength from the little desire he had to start the day when he knew that again, he would be alone again. Hoseok tried to hold him back with some silly topic of conversation in which the older god asked him how life on earth was, if there were many fights and many trials to carry out. Ares, making full use of his intelligence, discovered the true intentions of Zeus, so it did not take him long to leave. He knew deep within his chest that although his father's intentions were pure, he should not forget that he was the eldest god and that therefore, if Jungkook told him that lately he had been evading his functions, the god would get angry and shout at him for what he was doing. irresponsible it was in his carelessness.

Ares under the stairs of the Olympus with decay. Not even the enthusiastic light of his brother Apollo made him change his sad face. Even more so when he saw from afar the love scene of Hephaestus and Aphrodite. Ares sighed resigned drowning in his own envy. Even Hephaestus, a one-eyed and toothless being, had found his soul mate. So why was he not so lucky? He was the most handsome god on Olympus. All the goddesses wished they had him between their legs. His manhood was highly known to everyone. But there was a detail that overshadowed all its virtues. He was Ades, the god of war and brutality in battle. No one really stopped to know its interior. They always judged him in the worst way, carving him out to be a naturally evil being who enjoyed the cries of his war victims. He was so much more than that and he wanted to find someone brave enough to cross those borders.

“What bothers you so much, Jungkook?” Apollo listened, concerned by the look so dark in his lowered eyes. The gloom seemed to take its toll on an invisible cloud that gave it no rest. Even, overshadowed by the intense blinding light Tae was exposing with his natural light, he was unable to illuminate his sad soul.

"Nothing, Tae."

"Remember that I see everything," Apollo recalled, trying to cancel the negative vibration his brother breathed. He touched his forehead with his finger in a small touch so joyous that Ares felt a little better.

"Have you ever fallen in love?"

"Yes, many times." More than I can count on my hands. In fact ... - I ended up closing my mouth slowly as the cloud of bitterness grew. Apollo shrugged his shoulders in distress at the shadow that consumed his body. "Is that why you left your work aside and you want to fall in love?"

Jungkook's cheeks turned to their usual pink color feeling almost indebted for his time not attending to them. Luckily, Tae was not rebuking him, what's more, the Sun God played a small smile softened by finding the true reasons for his pain.

"Jungkook, you have really stupendous goddesses behind your robes. I wouldn't worry about that."

But Ares huffed annoyed.

"They don't seek to occupy my heart they only care to occupy my bed." The fire was drawn with fury in his eyes. Apollo was the protagonist of how his jaw clenched. From the tension of his broad shoulders. And from the veins marked by its strong and compact arms.

"And what are you looking for?" Jungkook felt a little better, in confidence with the Sun God, because he knew that he didn't ask for malicious reasons, he knew that his question had come out with the sole intention of giving him some support.

"Someone brave with character but cautious. I am looking for someone with a pure heart who is unconditionally given to me. A pale woman who does not want me because of how big my cock is, but because of who I am." he recited the list so nostalgically feeling much better when he spread it out loud. Feeling at peace taking her out of the heart at last. But suddenly, the emotion faded again like flowers in winter. Her red-hot heart froze again when she fell silent in reality. "But I know that there is no woman in the world who can accomplish such things."

"Actually ... if there is," Tae mentioned rather thoughtfully. Making an effort to find the words he would say next knowing that it would depend on Jungkook returning to his former self. "There are rumors about the land of a girl born to a king whose beauty is worthy of being compared to Aphrodite. She is so famous her beautiful body as is her fair and benevolent character. Personally I have never seen her but if you want I can tell you where she goes every day to refresh herself. "

It was at that moment that Ares's heart beat again. More than ever. Its bitter shadow was replaced by a wonderful aura so attractive that every god became a spectator of its great strength. Apollo continued his duties after telling Jungkook the exact coordinates of the pond where the girl took a break a day. The god ripped off a piece of cloud to climb it and thus get down to earth without being seen. On the way he met his mother Hera, who could not stop smiling at seeing him so full of hope.

He decided to wait in heaven to avoid any encounter with a mortal. This was no time to entertain yourself with stupid requests. I wait and wait patiently lying on his cloud watching the mortals walk without being aware that the god of war was watching them. The place where his brother had directed him was quite spacious, full of exotic vegetation, plants and shrubs full of blue flowers that harmoniously combined with the crystal clear water of the pond. Jungkook rested his head on one hand feeling increasingly bored. Hours had passed since his arrival and he had only seen an old man pass by carrying a huge basket on his head and two girls playing chasing a frog. Tired of waiting, he almost gave up on his purpose. He felt sad again. The heart began to suffer a blizzard storm that gradually began to freeze it. Snorting in exhaustion, he stood on the cloud again. But just before returning to Olympus, a pure laugh as the divinity itself hit her ears causing her to search for the desperate sound.

Her jaw dropped in so much beauty. Apollo said that her beauty could be compared to Aphrodite. Ares thought that there was no possible comparison because no one would ever overcome the light from his smile. Hypnotized by the sensual dance that his pale legs did when walking, the god fell again to the cloud to continue admiring the woman. He soaked in her features as delicate as honey, as soft as the summer breeze. Her wonderful brown hair waved to mid-waist. The dress was loose but it stuck so well to her curves by the movement of the wind that it intimately marked the silhouette of her perfect body. Ares swore he had never seen so much symmetry together, not even in Aphrodite. There was no one to match its natural beauty.

Ares was so in love with her laugh that he was about to commit the stupidity of showing himself. Luckily, the raucous scream of a crumbling old woman stopped her daring.

"Lina! Do not run so much girl that the legs of this old woman do not give for more!”

The woman came down the hill, carefully crushing her feet on the ground with her hands lifting her skirt to avoid getting caught. Jungkook sighed in love when he finally discovered the beautiful girl's name. Lina smiled at the old woman on her way to the pond. The fish came out to greet her with joy. Even the animals came to greet her. There was such a pure aura around him. So clean.

From that day on, the god came down every morning to observe her. I saw how he enjoyed splashing in the water. How she wet her dress and didn't care at all. Weeks. He could even swear that months had passed since their meetings. His life had returned to how it was before. Zeus had seen his son laugh, comment, joke again and could not feel happier. The only one who knew about his recent crush was Apollo. It was him who recounted all his feelings, how good it did him to see her even from afar. On one occasion, he told the sun god that he wanted to woo her. To come down from his hiding place and declare himself. For obvious reasons Apollo was surprised by Ares's devotion to a girl he had only seen from afar. But Ares insisted again. I place her above every goddess or mortal, no one could match her bright smile. That day, Ares confessed that he had found his soul mate. That he knew it was her and that he would do whatever was in his power to hand over the world to her if she asked him to.

One summer day, he went down as usual with his cloud at the agreed time. Jungkook patiently waited for it to appear. For the first time, the god felt nervous. The butterflies in his stomach fluttered uneasily at his suspicious delay. Jungkook felt sad when the sun went down and did not appear. Jimin climbed to the top of the sky darkening every corner of the garden. The shadows had disappeared almost as much as his good humor. I worry. In all the months he had been observing her, he never missed his appointment. Her chest clenched as the possibility that something had happened to her became more and more likely.

“Lina!” The old woman's desperate voice made him move quickly to the other end of the cloud. Ares smiled, recovering his hopes of seeing her before returning to Olympus. Her smile fell as fast as it formed when she heard his sobs come out in despair. The girl ran down the hill without looking back. When he fell to his knees on the edge of the pond, Jungkook knew that something recorded had happened. Inhuman impulses to want to comfort her almost caused her to come down from her cloud. The sobs turned to crying as she ducked her head, burying her face in her arms. Jungkook kept his eyes open with his heart in his hand.

The old woman came to her side, recovering the air she had lost in the race. With his hand on his chest he sighed. Afterward, I drop to my knees to accompany Lina.

"My sweet girl ..." whispered affectionately as Mienytss reached out her old wrinkled hand to caress her head. Lina buried her head in her legs for comfort. "You knew this would happen sooner or later when you came of age."

"But not with him, lullaby," she murmured hoarsely. Even though her words were muffled by the old Jungkook's skirt she was able to hear everything. Her shoulders pointed upward as she felt outrageous rage. Now that he knew that the girl was crying because of someone, he could not help generating in his mind the multiple scenes of violence that he wanted to eagerly execute.

Lina, who for a moment had taken off her face to torment her with her bloodshot eyes, had gone back into hiding as she felt vulnerable before the old woman's gaze. Ares's nostrils expanded accordingly. He forced himself to calm down because otherwise he would make himself known in the worst way and he didn't want to scare her. Instead, he remained impassive waiting for the girl to reveal the name of her next outfit.

"I know it is difficult to accept but your duty to your people is ...

"I don't want to marry him." I don't love him, lullaby. "She cried, torn by pain and rage.

Jungkook widened his eyes in fury. His teeth clenched exhausted his sharp jaw. He got so mad that he ripped a piece of cloud and threw it to the ground in such a way that I ended up knocking down a tree, scaring the old woman and the girl.

Anger controlled his actions, it was no longer him. Her face was so red. Flames gushed out of his black pupils dimming all the goodness. A great gray cloud was deposited on top of the castle at the request of the same god.

People were paralyzed when they saw the man fall from the sky. His fall was such that on landing he left a large hole in place. The mortals who had already recognized his outfit were submissive. Some ran away from the god, others fell to their knees impropering his forgiveness. The only one who did not know what was happening was the king who watched as his subjects fled the place like headless chickens.

The two majestic gates shot out as Ares entered the throne room. The king opened his eyes when he recognized the red helmet that Jungkook always brought with him. He fell to his knees, standing before his throne. The king continued to pray until Ares's feet were placed before his eyes. The man looked up fearfully regretting when he saw the dark bowls that covered the place of his eyes.

Ares, lost by the thirst for revenge, lifted the man by his load, adjusting his fingers tightly on the spine. Afterward, he gouged out his teeth and growled violently causing the king to almost faint from fright.

"Lina is mine, you son of a bitch," he roared so loudly that if the king was not being supported he would have flown back. The man put his desperate hands to Ares's fingers to no avail, knowing that he would never match the strength of a god, much less when he was angry. "It's mine, do you understand? Mia!"

"Father?" A faint voice sounded from behind the god. "No!"

Lina ran to Ares when she understood the scene. With his hand to his mouth and nerves on the surface of his skin, his small fingers wrapped around the god's fingers so that he would free his almost dead father. Jungkook, who had been choking on his own smoke, reacted when he first felt the softness of Lina's fingers. He released the disoriented king, letting him fall to the ground. Lina came down to her father's passed out body. He ran a hand through his hair tripping over his crown. The old tears that had dried on her cheeks were now bathed in new ones that had begun to emerge. Then, the girl turned furiously at the god standing in front of them.

"Who are you, damn it! Why did you try to kill my father?" The growl that came from his sweet peach lips was nothing like the sweet voice he had grown accustomed to hearing. Jungkook was stunned, becoming increasingly ashamed of what he had done. I swear that he would scold himself harshly when he reached Olympus for allowing himself to be controlled by the wild instincts of his nature. Lina's eyes carried so much hatred that the god was speechless. No one had ever had the courage to look him directly in the eye. The others shied away from her fearful gaze, but she, she was searching for her. Jungkook's heart skipped a beat even though it wasn't the best situation.

"I ..." Her hoarse voice came out. Lina had the urge to close her eyes when her wonderful gravity soaked deep into her heart. The god looked like a scared puppy creating a great contrast to the previous raging man. Then, Lina much more lucid than before, managed to see her outfit. His golden robe. His red cape. When he saw the helmet. The symbol of the front of his armor. She widened her eyes in fright, knocking to her knees.

"I am sorry. I am sorry, Ares. I did not know. I did not know it was you. Forgive me, forgive this simple mortal who did not know how to venerate your great blood. Please, spare my old father and my life!"

Jungkook was stunned when the girl began to kiss the ground in front of her feet. Anger galloped away, transforming into pure sadness. Lina implored his forgiveness with such fear. At the time, he would have ignored her prayer and ended his life without hesitation. But things had changed so much. Now his heart was falling apart defeated by the sadness that caused him to see her so afraid of his presence when he felt the opposite.

Lina, hearing no response from the god, leaned her back further to rest her forehead on her hands clasped in the marble.

"Please spare my father's life in exchange for mine! Kill me but let him live!"

Kill her? Jungkook thought terrified. If he did, his soul would consume so much sadness.

"I am not going to kill your father." Ares assured him with a serious frown. He would not deny that that had been the main reason he had broken into the palace, but he would never dare do anything that would harm Lina, although that would mean swallowing the poison that consumed her inside. The girl raised her head, hoping to be reciprocated with such kindness. Grateful to the gods for having spoken to the god of war and having lived to tell the tale. Lina, naive to everything, could not realize the look that Ares was giving her. Her heart burned with flames as the thought crossed her head. I knew it was wrong. He knew he was taking advantage of the fact that he was practically throwing himself into her will. But he had spent so many months observing her from a distance that, having her close, he did not want to separate himself from her anymore. "I will spare your father's life but on one condition."

Lina craned her neck at the god fearful of his request. With drunk eyes of fear. Everyone knew how cruel the conditions of the gods were. There was always a high price to pay as his favors were not free. Lina swallowed violently accepting her fate.

"You will come to live on Olympus with me."

Tears choked the depths of the old woman's wrinkles. Standing up releasing her devastating screams. He couldn't believe that his beloved girl was leaving her home never to return. The king lay so defeated in his bed that he could not go down to say goodbye to his daughter.

Ares watched the scene impassively from his cloud at the foot of the castle. With her neck stretched out and her eyes fixed on the girl who was also crying in her caretaker's arms.

"Goodbye my sweet old lady," was the last thing Lina threw before turning around. The sadness took its toll on his now muted tone. The old woman, as a last hope, caught the fabric of Lina's dress causing her to stumble severely and then look at the god with desperate eyes. Ares did not take pity on his old heart, the centuries of loneliness had to be rewarded and his own satisfaction would not be denied. When the babysitter's sour fingers finally released, Lina's dress resignedly accepted the farewell. She regretted not hearing her sweet laugh again that lit everything in the castle. He would pray every night that love and affection would not be stolen from him in the same way. Just like the daylight overshadowed by the dark night, Lina approached the god. Despite the seriousness in his eyes, Ares felt like the happiest god in the world. He extended his hand to help the girl tackle her cloud, but she, spiteful for having forced him to leave her family, ignored her good gesture by turning her neck the other way. Ares was greatly humiliated by his contempt but happy that he had achieved what he longed for so much he decided to let his act pass him by.

That was how with a wave of his hand he indicated the cloud to lead towards his next destination. Lina watched withdrawn as the old woman's body diminished in the distance until it became a small spot on the horizon. She sighed reluctantly, realizing that the castle would no longer be her home from now on. That her life now belonged to the god of war. And that his decision would have changed the groove of his destiny.

As the other clouds rose, they increasingly occupied the space. After passing through a heavenly mist they reached the gates of Olympus. Lina spread her eyes attracted by each sun pore that illuminated the beautiful stops. Her nanny had told her endless stories about Olympus, but her stories could never be compared to real life. It was a dream place. Full of vegetation everywhere. Without further ado, the large white structure of the mausoleum was quite impressive.

When Ares came down, she followed him still soaking up the beauty of the place. Living here would not be so bad, he thought when he managed to visualize in the background a golden fence that housed the entrance to a garden that from afar already invited to visit.

“Jungkook!” A female voice called out from afar, catching the attention of the newcomers. A tall, strong, and beautiful woman wherever she looked came in front of them. She wore a white dress worthy of her wonderful sculpture with a large gold pendant covering the upper part of her body. Her brown hair pulled back into a braid. Her head wearing a helmet almost as golden as her pendant. Lina intended to bow down to pay her respects to the goddess of wisdom but found it inappropriate.

"Yun." Ares greeted calmly. The goddess kept her crystalline green eyes in an awake gaze. Ares, surprised by the despair his brittle voice conveyed in contrast to his subdued character, raised an eyebrow waiting for the goddess to finally say what she had come to say.

"Zeus requires you in the assembly hall."

"Tell father I'm busy. I have to install my partner and teach her what her future home will be like." When Ares turned to Lina, he gave her a friendly smile. However, Athena seemed to have other plans for the god. Lina felt quite uncomfortable when perceiving the eyes of the goddess in her. I notice his gaze filled with compassionate contempt, but contempt after all. Athena was known for her great mettle and intelligence, which is why she could not understand how Ares had taken the audacity to invite a mortal to Olympus where the entrance to any non-ancestral being was prohibited. Athena, however, did not hate humans. On the contrary, he loved all the sciences that they had invented, he adored the so playful gadgets that some had managed to create. Moreover, she was one of those who supported, along with Aphrodite, that relations with mortals will be increased. Because as a good goddess she couldn't deny how much she had enjoyed his sexual company. But he kept thinking that Ares's innocent action would have consequences not only on Olympus, but on the world. And the great goddess knew she was not wrong in that regard.

"Jungkook, this is not a game." If you don't go, then Zeus will come looking for you and you know as well as I do that our dear father is not merciful to those who make him wait.

Of course he knew. Zeus was fair and a name but also a being that you did not want to disturb. Ares frowned at Lina with an apology. Athena raised her neck up high when Lina rejected the hand Ares had tried to place on her shoulder. She was vilely annoyed by Ares's consent in the face of her disrespect.

"Okay. I'll go. But I can't leave my newcomer alone alone."

"I will escort her to your home," Athena offered with all the humility she could process. It wasn't easy for her to lower herself to her level, either, but she did, which Ares appreciated with an enthusiastic smile before leaving the mundane and goddess alone to march into the pantheon.

Ares entered the assembly hall with the smile standing out on his beautiful face. On the contrary, Zeus lay quite annoyed sitting on his throne while listening to the complaints of the other gods. When Jungkook broke into that thick atmosphere all the gods stopped their discussion to focus on him.

"I hope you have a good explanation, god of war." Zeus demanded under the cold tone he always used when something disturbed him. His blue eyes narrowed on the strong figure of Ares waiting for him. The other gods took their corresponding seats.

"I have it," Jungkook assured using the same ice cream from his father.

"Mortals on Olympus but when have you seen such impudence in these centuries?" Commented Iris, the goddess of discord, quite affected. Her large black dress gracefully covered her feet giving her a much more terrifying posture. Except for Ares, of course.

"She is not the first mortal to set foot on Olympus, Iris. I suggest that you calm down, lest you bite your tongue and poison yourself with your own bitterness." Jungkook's comment horrified everyone. No one in their right mind would dare insult the goddess herself of anger and evil if she wished to live to see another dawn. Iris widened her eyes more than furious. I rest my hands on his chair to push himself to his feet.

"I swear by my divinity that this mortal will perish painfully while she is still alive," Iris threatened with all the force of her evil. Ares approached the goddess in strides with bloodshot eyes and then shouted:

"As your hideous harpy hooves touch my wife's hair, I swear to the gods that I will swallow your own blood."

“Enough!” Hera yelled furiously appearing out the door. Jungkook was still facing Iris, giving him his characteristic death gaze that would be the nightmare of millions of mortals and gods. When the great mother goddess tenderly placed her hands on her son's shoulders, he pulled him away from Iris. "It is not time to start a war between the gods," the goddess whispered in her ear using the motherly tone that calmed her tantrums when she was a boy.

"Bringing her has been a completely irresponsible act," Zeus rebuked the God, standing up to reach him and his mother. "I demand that you return her to the place where she belongs."

"Never!"

"Jungkook!"

“No!” The god of war cut short with fury. Zeus felt a real panic when he recognized the opaque gleam in his son's eyes. "I love her and I want to spend eternity with her, even if I have to give up my life and leave Olympus, I will not leave her."

The gods breathed out in shock at Jungkook's future promise. Hera, fearful of her son's impulsive decision, watched her husband desperately. But Zeus still held his posture as stiff as rock.

"If that's what you want," Zeus commented defying Ares's courage. Hera turned pale almost falling defeated to the ground to beg her husband not to allow her son to leave. "I will give you until the summer solstice so that you can make him fall in love with you. If he does not, I will strip you of your divinity and not you'll never see her again. "

"If that's what you want," Jungkook growled softly, clenching his teeth almost as hard as his jaw. Zeus raised his eyebrows feeling winning, believing himself the wiser of the two.

Accustomed to a spacious but limited room, suddenly finding that great room was a surprise that left her speechless. The goddess of wisdom had accompanied her to a grand mansion leaving her in front of blood red doors. As she left, Lina couldn't stop processing the goddess's rejection. He hadn't bothered her with words, they hadn't even talked just walking. But I judge his tense shoulders and his tightly stretched neck every time in innocent carelessness brushed his arm as he walked down the narrow white-tiled path.

The young woman had been able to delight in her well-kept garden. The vines climbed the upper wall of the mansion giving it a welcoming air. It did not seem the home of a being destined for destruction, but quite the opposite. Even the furniture was fine and in very good taste. Undoubtedly, the one he liked the most had been the arch that adorned the entrance to the room. This is how he had found that lost part of the house. Everything was open, there were no doors and the walls were not part of its structure. The mansion was huge, extremely spacious. He had heard from the mouth of many villagers how outlandish the gods were, of course they were rumors without evidence since it was known that no mortal had climbed Olympus for centuries. But, at last, he was able to verify it. However, if what he saw was true and his senses were not deceived by the contradictory feelings that shadow his heart, living here without anyone's company could be considered torture.

A large bed covered with white sheets occupied the largest space in the room. To his right was a small table with a gold candlestick. To his left another of equal conditions. But without a doubt, what sucked much of the space was the large wardrobe guarded by two large oak doors. Curiosity had stung her stomach, preventing her from resisting approaching even if it was to admire the beauty of the drawings that devoured the entire structure. Another stab, perhaps more intense than the last, began to sting the tips of his fingers until he took the courage to open the doors.

"Virgin from heaven," I breathe out. Her fingers tightened on the doors because of the vertigo that began to control her emotions. There were no outfits per se, there were only armor, excessive amounts of armor and many, many weapons placed on the far walls. She slammed the door shut, her heart about to pop out of her mouth. I swallow hard from the early dryness of her throat. Closing her eyes, images of mutilations, battles, humans screaming in pain of pity flooded her little head. I push away all those thoughts by shaking my head. Her cheek was glued to one of the doors feeling secret relief when her skin found a welcoming cold. It was there when his eyes opened that they were hypnotized by the night light. The white rays caressed his entire body as he allowed himself to be led to a large balcony decorated with two white canvases as he passed the entrance. Her gratifying smile came true as she watched the moon gracefully strut high up into the sky. He looked much bigger from here than from his window in the castle.

"It's my favorite part of the house," announced a sweetened voice from behind. The girl jumped scared by her erroneous beliefs into her loneliness. The truth is that Ares had spent time watching her with a loving smile until he took the audacity to be noticed. Of course, it wasn't his intention to suffocate her, but they had to talk. "Is the house to your liking?"

Lina was silent for a couple of seconds before answering.

"You are a god, you shouldn't care about the opinion of a mere mortal." She was aware of his bad tone, too, of his poisoned gaze but he didn't care. He would rather die now than spend eternity with him. Jungkook suppressed a sad face after sensing his contempt. Of course he cared if it hadn't, he wouldn't have even bothered to order Pageo to fit everything for two.

"You are more than just a mortal to my Lina."

But she ignored his sincerity, his gaze true to her heart and rolled her eyes in a stressed sigh. Of course she didn't believe him, when had a god been seen to care about such a mortal? To them mortals were but the sheep to lead. Lina never thought it was special. She was always too low, too pale, too blunt. No man was really interested in her. All men saw in it were the great lands they would inherit and the great riches they would enjoy. She was never a beautiful girl in the eyes of others. Her waist was small compared to the servants who haunted her rooms. She was not worthy to bring heirs into the world for her moderate thinness. Her long legs did not fit the short legs that men loved. Everything was wrong for her. For Jungkook everything was perfectly fine. But her bad experience had tied a blindfold in her eyes that managed to cover the look of love with which the god looked at her every time.

Lina closed her eyes when a heavy sigh came from her reddish lips. She brought her trembling fingers to the clasp on his shoulder to give way to his nakedness. As the garment gathered around her ankles the cold night air hit her body, bending it slightly. Jungkook opened his eyes when his pale skin filled the whole environment. I gulp nervously as I swept her entire naked figure with desire. His neck screamed to be marked with his teeth. Her sweet clavicles marked to be kissed until she fainted. His eyes were caught without help in his chest, the view was wonderful, they were beautiful as he liked they were not large but they were not small either, they were the perfect size so that his palm fit in them. Without a doubt, the main attraction in those sweet strawberries were the two nipples that were raised awake by the cold contrast of the air. Jungkook growled excitedly. His teeth cracked hard from his desire to close elsewhere. When he reached his navel his tongue came out of his mouth in response. But her hypnosis ceased immediately when a gust of wind rose and Lina's body began to tremble with a crash from the drop in temperature. Jungkook shook his head realizing how low he had fallen to take advantage of her like that. She had stared at her wonderful body for so long that she hadn't realized how scared she was. Jungkook furrowed his eyebrows in embarrassment. Ready to end the show, he approached her to retrieve the dress from the floor and put it back on her body. Automatically, Lina opened her eyes overwhelmed by the old heat sensation of her garment. He tilted his head in confusion at Jungkook who had decided to look away at the moon.

"Don't do that again ..." he said, in a recorded tone that raised Lina completely. His tone echoed with both warning and danger. The young woman's cheeks were cruelly attacked by the heat and then she finished putting on the dress as it was before. Deep in her heart she felt rejected, humiliated. He thought that Jungkook had been angry for not being able to show him what he really liked when he had actually done it because he could not stop looking at her and above all, because if he repeated himself in the same way he did not know if he could control himself as he was hardly doing now. Lina bet to divert her gaze also but towards the room to avoid uncomfortable encounters. A long period of time passed in which both tried to assimilate what happened. Jungkook was the first to seek eye contact to find her staring blankly at the bed. Then, he muttered worriedly, sweetening his voice again. "Are you tired?"

Lina heard her heart race as the deep contrast of her voice landed in her ears. Far from appearing intimidating, in his opinion, the god enjoyed a sensual voice that pleased him, although it will be difficult for him to admit it.

"Answer me, please," Jungkook asked taking a step in his direction. His eyebrows were drawn in a sad gesture.

"Yes ..." I whisper shyly. Despite his brief intervention, Jungkook was relieved.

"It's all yours," added Jungkook low. Lina glanced confusedly at her spot in front of the railing. The moonlight so beautifully brightened her tanned skin that the girl had to suppress a sigh. He could be evil but he couldn't deny that his attractiveness was worthy of being a god. "Sleep in it if that's what you really need."

The young woman nodded in a small gesture before traveling to the bed. Her shoulders tensed as she watched Jungkook chase after her. However, the confusion drove her to raise her head in surprise when she saw the god pass by to walk towards a large black leather sofa just behind the bed.

Without giving it much importance, although quite grateful to him, she opened the sheets and got into bed. I almost fell asleep when I felt the softness of the fabric will hug your limbs with passion. She let her face rest on the feather pillow and closed her eyes, letting herself be carried away by exhaustion.

Stunned by the inconsequential light that passed through the large window, she begins to wake up. Her little bellies moan in her recent reverie process. Your body begins to produce smooth movements taking the sheets with them. Opening your eyes closes them again immediately after being shaken by the clarity of the bright sun. Then he stands up, placing his fingers through her hair to clear his gaze.

At first, he is scared because he does not recognize the room. However, when he manages to fully awaken his mind and his neural connections connect with reality, he remembers who the bed is and the reasons why he has come to it.

He growls lazily falling back dramatically. Turn your face to the right to find a sundial on top of one of the small tables that rest on the sides of the large bed. It is at that moment, when he manages to discern a wooden tray resting on it. As he sits down, his eyes widen in surprise as he looks at a white dinner plate carrying a small wheat omelette and a large golden goblet beside him. Lina tilts her head in confusion. Approaches to food slowly. When the delicious smell of fresh food rises up your nose, your stomach rumbles in response. Her cheeks flush from the intensity of the sound coming from her body. He takes a fine silver fork, punctures the pancake and puts it in his mouth at once. Her lips close and she moans with pleasure when her tongue first touches the sweet taste after hours without tasting food. He takes the cup, brings it to his lips. A white liquid moves through the hustle inside it. When the liquid runs down her dry throat, she has impulses to moan loudly. He recognizes the liquid as milk, but it was not just any milk, he knew that flavor very well, it was baca milk. Her favorite from when she was little. There was a time when he drank so much milk that the royal roof rack had been without it for a long period of time since then his father had forbidden him the liquid in his meals. It had been years since he tried it but he would never forget its sweet and creamy texture.

As he placed the glass back on the tray, his attention was captured by a small note of paper strategically left in one corner of it. Picking it up, he realized who it belonged to.

Please eat, it's been a long time since you did and I know your body needs energy. I didn't want to wake you up this morning because you looked tired. I hope you slept well, really. I have left you clothes I hope it works for you.

He lifts his head to look at the chair he pointed to in the note, realizing that there was indeed a long white dress on the back.

I had to leave but I will be back at lunchtime. There is a hot tub where you can cool off. If you feel it too hot, please turn the handle to the left to make it colder. You can go out to explore the surroundings but please do not leave the house.

Attention, Jungkook.

I purse my lips, saddened by so much verbiage. I am grateful that he had taken the trouble to find something for her so that she could change, even when I verify the existence of the golden bathtub as well. But he really didn't understand why, after giving him so many freedoms, he will end his note demanding that he not leave home. His house. In fact, she acknowledged that she was a bit stunned by the way she expressed herself. I mean, he's supposed to be the god of war, shouldn't he be colder when he talks? Instead, she looked like a sweet and virginal maiden.

Well, be that as it may, I would not reject the idea of ​​a hot and relaxing bath.

...

From afar, high up in his thick and large cloud, he observed a small quarrel between two peasants. Apparently, one of them had stolen a goat from the other and the affected person demanded its immediate return, which the other refused. I support the elbows and deposit the chin on the back of the hand. I sigh bored. Tired. He really hadn't slept well, although he doesn't regret it. Seeing her sleep had been so much more rewarding than the dream itself. He just couldn't resist. When he least expected it, he found himself admiring the serene expression on her face in the moonlight. So beautiful and innocent. A nostalgic smile went up her corners as she remembered her cute, shrunken pose in sleep.

"You're crazy." A voice in the familiar tone woke him from his reverie. Jungkook observed to the side, bumping into the sun god who looked at him with a knowing look. "You have kidnapped her and to top it all you have taken her to your house."

Jungkook rolled his eyes as he rolled his eyes away from the peasants and got up to stare directly at Taehyung's eyes.

"You're not the best one to give me moral lessons, brother," Jungkook recalled through a sarcastic whisper. Taehyung opened his nostrils allowing himself to be knocked down by his brother's annoying provocations.

"No, that woman has definitely driven you crazy." Tae assumed pinching his fingers on the bridge of his nose. "I just hope what Yun has told me is not true."

"It is," Jungkook agreed, downplaying it.

“What!” Tae yelled madly. His eyes expanded accordingly. Her mouth practically open for not giving credit to Jungkook's nonsense. "Jungkook, reconsider. You can't send everything to hell for a woman you don't know." Jungkook turned his gaze again to the peasants who had started clumsily sticking together. "You really have no fucking idea what it is to be mortal. Of all that aging entails. Living an ephemeral life with an end in hell."

"I don't care," Jungkook replied suddenly redirecting his determined gaze towards Tae. His seriousness was too devastating for Taehyung. Because he knew that he did not say all this on a whim. He said it because he really felt it.

"Jungkook ..."

"I don't care, and do you know why? Because I'd rather live a mortal life with Lina a thousand times than live an eternal life being a prisoner of my own loneliness."

It was the last thing Jungkook said before leaving leaving Tae's mouth open.

...

He ran a hand down his outstretched leg to remove the soap. The hot bath was so relaxing. She held her wavy brown hair in a small makeshift bun at the top of her head. I clean her legs, her breasts, her armpits, her entire body. A relaxed smile welled up on his wet red lips as he rested his neck on the small stand. The cold of the material vibrated at the nape generating a pleasant sensation.

Lost in the depths of her bath, Lina was not aware that her eyes were not the only ones observing her body. Hyulin, the god of burials, wore a hypnotized smile. His initial purpose had been to look for Jungkook to tell him something about some mortals, when he did not find him, he decided to leave there, encountering the wonderful scene of a woman more beautiful than anything else enjoying a quiet bath. When Hyulin saw how her pale legs were rinsed with such sensuality her feet were embedded to the ground. In an instant, his hand slid down her belly and into the confines of her pants. Gimio, noticing how his erect member reacted to the cold touch of his fingers.

Hyulin was so focused on the girl that her ears failed to warn her of the loud slam. Nor, of the figure so extremely annoying that he was approaching in strides.

“What the hell do you think you look at, asshole!” Jungkook roared, ruled by fury. His reddened ears almost as much as his bloodshot pupils. He grabbed Hyulin by the neck, holding him in midair without much effort.

"Nothing ..." Hyulin lied, frightened by the death gaze of the other god. Jungkook did not have to use his naive to find the correct answer, since it was the same language of the man who betrayed him by clumsily stumbling.

“She is my wife, by what right do you dare to look at her with your filthy beggar eyes?” He shouted, letting himself be carried away by her explosive nature about to fatally hatch. His nostrils were widened by his irregular alteration that also shook his chest like a typhoon. The hand clung more and more to his spine, leaving him little by little without the entry of air.

“Jungkook?” A voice as pure as sunlight sounded from behind him. Jungkook closed his eyes tightly at receiving her so scared. His heart broke into pieces when he turned around and saw her there, cowering in her own body as she executed a completely terrified look.

Noticing that the mortal's eyes were lost, specifically the way her fingers closed dominance on Hyulin's neck, Jungkook responded by releasing it as if the god's skin burned, when in reality, it had been fear the girl who had lit a bonfire on his body and caused fear in him.

Hyulin coughed on the ground as he clutched his fingers to the strangled area. Jungkook stood still before his completely fearful expanded eyes. When Jungkook took a step in her direction Lina responded by backing away from them. He reached out a hand in front of his body to demand that he keep his distance.

"Stay away," she said. His temple lip as his hoarse voice created a great atmosphere of tension in Jungkook's chest. He obeyed her, frowning in pain at being rejected with such fear. "I don't want you to hurt me ..."

"I would never hurt you, Lina." He had sounded so sincere, with so much nostalgia that the young woman's heart was for a moment softened. However, a scandalous cough at her feet put her on alert again. Then, he thought. If she had reacted like that with an equal, what kind of atrocities could he do to her?

"You already did when you took me away from my father."

That said, Lina shook her head disappointed. Afterwards, he left there leaving him with a broken heart.

...

Another day dawning in that extravagant bed. Another day that he was still in that place against his will. He managed to realize that unlike on other days there was no tray on the little table as usual. Lina thought that Jungkook had grown tired of her contempt and had punished her by leaving her hungry, she thought, until when she got up she led the way to the large dining room, finding him sitting in front of a white table where there were two sets of silverware.

Jungkook raised his head from the plate when he noticed her presence. Her eyes lit up accordingly. The dress fit her so well. White was his color. The gold of his belt matched so well with the auburn hue of his eyes and his loose wavy hair. Jungkook's corners rose in a lopsided smile. Then, he slowly got up from his seat to drag a chair over and offer it to him. Lina stared at the object from a distance, suspiciously. But despite the doubt, he required something to fill his stomach with so he decided to push his scorn aside at least until he finished feeding.

"Did you sleep well?" He asked. Lina, who until then had kept her mouth shut for focusing on chewing, gave him a hateful look. Her fists closed into fists after receiving her tone, which in her opinion was false, very concerned. I disturb you that you will be so hypocritical. She was so engrossed in searching for the reasons why she despised him that the blindfold kept her free of his sweet smile and his eyes marveled at her presence.

Lina threw the tray to the ground causing Jungkook to jump in the chair. The broken sound of the plate and the glass caused a strong disaster. Without further comment that on the polished magenta carpet had spread a stain for milk.

"Don't pretend you care!" I will not allow you to treat me well when I know that deep down you don't want to!

Jungkook frowned, he was starting to get fed up with her behaving like a spoiled child. He always drew his own conclusions by setting foot on the same mistake over and over again.

"If you didn't mind I wouldn't have kept you with me!"

Lina widened her eyes in shock.

—Import you? You are a god! Your kind only cares about themselves! You're no different from them! ”Their screams only fueled the tension of the environment. Jungkook gripped the ends of the table tightly to calm down. But the vein in his biceps declared just the opposite.

"If I had been like them, the first night, when you undressed on my balcony I would have taken you to bed and fucked you so hard that you had only one dick to obey in your miserable mortal life!" Jungkook sounded gone. It was not he who spoke but the rabid force of his god nature. Lina was speechless at his statements. The cheeks inevitably turned red from hearing such a dirty vocabulary. A low cramp upset her belly causing her to have to squeeze her legs to ease the pain that had unconsciously begun to vibrate in anticipation. Jungkook felt it. Jungkook felt the nervous path of his saliva as he swallowed. The trembling of his body as he formed a mischievous lopsided smile as he took the audacity to run his body up and down without shame. "Is that what you really wanted, that I would have fucked you until you knew who you are?"

"No..."

"No?" Jungkook repeated in the same innocent tone as he took off from the table and approached her slowly as if he were his prey and he was a hungry predator. Lina had her back to the table when Jungkook managed to get in front of her. He was close enough to brush her feet and suffocate her with his breath. As far as not daring to touch her creating a need in her to close the distance that she did not know she had. Jungkook's gaze screamed so many things, despair, desire, love ... the warmth of his eyes was so attractive that Lina was hypnotized. Dominated by the sensuality of her smile that increased over time. Jungkook suddenly laid her palms on the table on either side of her body, leaving her cornered. Lina held her breath when she felt him slowly lean towards her lips. The first reaction he had was to turn to the opposite side causing his bellies to draw a daring smile when colliding with his cheek. Badly assuming that after his rejection Jungkook would give up, he left his weakness unprotected. Then, he felt her cold, wet lip on the shell of his ear. "Then why do you squeeze your legs like a desperate whore who longs to be filled by a cock?"

"Get away." Her sob was stopped when she bit her lower lip. Jungkook froze immediately. I lift my head and look at her seriously. Lina narrowed her eyes helplessly causing a great feeling of guilt to settle in Jungkook's chest. When he felt a heavy gasp at first hand, he stopped leaning on the table and then took a prudent distance.

"Sorry, I don't know what happened to me." It's just that… "he sighed, closing his eyes frustrated." ... you drive me crazy. "

Lina suppressed a gasp again feeling calmer now that Jungkook lay much calmer. Her shoulders fell with her mood. He had ruffled his hair by letting a few stubborn strands cover his forehead. He looked wilder, but also more desperate. At some point, Lina had stopped digging her nails into the table and straightened up to get a little closer and make him see that he was okay. But the anguished look Jungkook sent him was completely paralyzing.

"It's been so long since I felt so attracted to a person that when I've had you so close I just ... I couldn't control myself. I ask a deep and sincere apology."

"It doesn't matter," she said. Lina frowned in embarrassment in order to make him feel a little better by taking iron out of the matter but Jungkook didn't look at her from the moment he decided to turn his eyes to the ground.

"No, it does matter." I scared you, sorry.

"You haven't really scared me, you've surprised me but not scared me."

Jungkook looked at her again confused, now meeting a Lina who desperately avoided his eyes.

“Why should I surprise you, you're a beautiful woman?” He seemed so sure of himself that Lina hesitated for a moment to believe him or not. Finally, when he snorted a sarcastic laugh as brief as he let his most dangerous fear see.

"No, I'm not," she commented in a thread of deep sadness. Jungkook perceived how his light was gradually extinguished by his negative thoughts. The god denied with such fury that Lina looked at him almost instantly.

"You are the most precious woman human existence has created," he said. Jungkook possessed the deepest gaze he had ever seen. He watched her with such delicacy and so much love that she succumbed awkwardly to him. His rosy cheeks furiously took on a scorching hot red upon hearing the compliment of what is probably the most attractive man she has ever seen in her short life. She was so flattered that for a minute she forgot that he was a god and therefore did not have to seek her liking. Jungkook smiled. Not like before. This one had a much closer and more welcoming air. Then, he felt so good around him that he had to tell her the promises of his broken heart. "I had always heard that the expression of beauty is inside but I never knew how to understand it until I saw you for the first time in that lost pond. Your smile radiated so much light that it suddenly ignited my dull heart. You looked so pretty, so innocent When I least wanted to realize going to see you had become my favorite activity. A single smile from you and my day was improving infinitely. That is why, that afternoon when I saw you cry I went mad with fury, I wanted to know that I did so much to you damage so I can destroy it so that I would never do it again. I admit that I let myself be carried away by the situation and that the one who ended up paying for my fury was your father. But I will never apologize for falling in love with you. Because that fact is from The only thing I know I will never regret. "

“You were watching me?” Lina repeated, lost in receiving so much information at once. He was trying to hold each word tight. Every gesture after opening his heart without fear. A small smile formed on his lips. Far from feeling harassed, a feeling similar to sweetness began to develop in her chest. Knowing that the man had been watching her for a while made her a little nervous but at the same time inexplicably more secure. Finding out the real reasons behind his enormous anger had made the prospect of the god walk in another direction. After all, he had done everything to protect her, despite the fact that, as he says, he did not use the best ways.

"If you gave me a chance you would make me the happiest man on the face of the earth." He confessed lost in valleys of unbridled emotion. Lina raised her eyebrows hesitantly as she was upset with her heartbeat. "Would you give me that privilege?"

...

The brightness of the sun welcomed a new day in their eyes when they opened. He stretched lazily on the sheets growling as the muscles began to move. Jungkook was not at home. He thought about it when he straightened up and didn't see him in the room. The sofa where he slept every night seemed to be intact perfectly ordered with the cushions in place. I just confirmed it when in a quick look around the house I found it completely empty except for him.

She sighed disappointed. Today was a month since he had gone to live there. Not meeting him was becoming an increasingly unpleasant routine. But he understood perfectly. Every night, they talked a little about how the day had gone. She told him about the new things she discovered around the house, such as the large fountain that was in one of the lost gardens on the right wing. And he, about how annoying mortals were getting lately and what it meant to receive more work than unusual. He felt bad for Jungkook until he remembered that he was a god and that it was supposed to be his job.

The only bad thing about not having time to rest was that he left very early and returned late at night. Lina was starting to get bored of walking corridors she had already discovered on her old farms. An idea came to her mind when she turned a corner and managed to be stunned by the great intensity of light coming from a window. The eyes were drawn to the beauty before him. A great green meadow full of flowers so vast that not even the end could be seen. This is how she found herself walking out the door after several weeks of being confined. I take a deep breath, feeling his lungs thank him. When her sandal finally touched the stone grid at the entrance, she was tempted to return.

"You can go out and explore the surroundings but please don't leave the house."

She felt bad remembering that she was disobeying Jungkook's orders but then the sun blinded her again for a few moments forcing her to cover her eyes with her forearm. As if fate were tempting her, as she returned her gaze to the meadow, she seemed to feel much more alive. Jungkook does not have to find out that I have gone out to tour the place a little. She thought innocently.

For each step that took more grace was left of the vegetation in the garden. Her mouth had been open for a long time, caring little that a bug would hang in her. I have never seen such a beautiful place, not even your beloved pond could be compared to such a beautiful place. Tall trees with large fruits in their tops. The leaves of the flowers seemed to greet me, shaking each time I passed. It wasn't until she managed to spotlight a large herd of blue flowers that she started running with the enthusiasm of a little girl. His laughter infected the environment. I swear to see the trees get greener.

Gimio adoring the flowers with a loving smile. I bow my head to soak up all the detail of the curious flowers. She frowned when she was lost. He had never seen that species, not even, in the flower book that Nana had given him on his sixth birthday.

"I see you like my bullet petunias." A gentle voice broke in behind her making her turn with a start. A woman dressed in a robe full of flowers was greeted with a loving smile. She had an aura so calm and serene that Lina reciprocated without thinking.

"They're beautiful, I've never seen them before," she confessed. Drawing the goddess's gaze to the bluish petals.

"That's because they only exist here. It was a gift from my sister Demeter when I married Zeus. A unique flower that only grew in my garden."

"It is certainly an unforgettable detail," Lina said. She felt a little nervous at recognizing the woman's identity but her aura kept her in an overly pleasant state of calm. Hera nodded in complete agreement. He took a couple of steps and stood next to the girl.

"I'm glad you finally spoke." Hera's comment made Lina take her eyes off the flowers and direct her towards the goddess. "You know, I don't like to see my sad son."

"Neither do I ..." Lina whispered, thinking aloud not realizing that Hera had heard her wish until she heard the goddess's mischievous laugh. Lina widened her eyes in surprise at his loose tongue. Flames began to form from his cheeks in the form of an intense blush. It was the first time that he had accepted her liking towards Jungkook out loud, and to top it off, he had just confessed it in front of Hera, and much more embarrassing his mother.

"I already knew that. Actually, it wasn't too far-fetched to think about it knowing that Jungkook had you withdrawn at home doing god knows what." - Hera said. Her insight was accompanied by a small mocking laugh as she noticed the heat on her face increase.

"I'm a virgin, ma'am. I swear to you that Jungkook and I don't ..."

"Don't tell me, ma'am," she scolded. His loving cry almost left her in the place of fright. "I know that you are a virgin, your aura is still white. But apparently your mind is not so much, I deduce ..."

The poor girl definitely couldn't be redder. She had become so nervous that the neural connections in her small, groggy head had stopped working. The atmosphere followed a gentle course of silence until strong footsteps caught the attention of the goddess and Lina.

"Iris, my dear, any problem?" Hera asked. His serene countenance had strained because of the newly arrived woman. Lina stared curiously at his aggressive beauty feeling a little envious of the curve of her hips.

"No, mother," she clarified. But something she was saying to Lina that was not entirely sincere. More, when his grim-black eyes began to run through her with blatant contempt. "I just wanted to meet the mortal who has driven the god of war mad."

"Iris, you better be going I don't think Jungkook likes very much knowing that you are close to Lina" Hera said. Her advice rang out with a warning behind, leaving Eride a little surprised. However, he smirked at the goddess before turning to Lina with a bored look assuming it wasn't worth it. After a forced nod, the goddess returned to the path in which she had arrived. Lina had at some point raised her neck realizing that she was upset and somehow, returning the same contempt that she had given her. Hera's joke back to reality. "She's always looking for war. I'm sorry you had to meet her."

"It doesn't matter, Hera. Truth is, she's not the first goddess to look at me like I'm little less than a grain for being mortal," Lina recalled wistfully. He still couldn't shake the tension that Athena refuted from his mind.

"Oh Lina. My sweet and innocent girl. That daughter of mine is not upset because you are a mortal." Hera said. Lina frowned when the goddess touched her chin showing skepticism, "Well, in part yes, honey. But what really bothers her is that Jungkook has chosen you and not her."

"Are you saying that as if she ..."

"Yes, Lina." She's jealous, "Hera confirmed in a weary sigh as if irritated by her daughter's strong character." Maybe she isn't the best to tell you this but I think you should know. "

"Please tell me." Lina asked curious to know more.

"Jungkook has not been a very chaste god in these centuries. Really, I don't think there is a goddess on Olympus who has not passed through his bed, except for me of course. However, Eride has a great obsession with Jungkook rather insane. She believes that he is her soul mate but, darling, I am the goddess of the family and believe me when I tell you that my daughter will never find her if she doesn't change her attitude. "

“Soulmate?” Lina asked, lost in so much information. Hera nodded seriously.

"You see, honey. The gods have many lovers, infinite sexual relations and many, many relations. However, we only truly fell in love once."

"Is that the soul mate?" True love? ”Lina asked, confused by the diverse laws of the gods. I had heard the myth of the soul mate in the mortal world before thinking it was just that, a tale to help children sleep. Which sums up his surprised reaction when he realizes the truth of the matter. Just a moment. She thinks, "Why would she be jealous of me? I am not Jungkook's soulmate."

"Honey, you'd be surprised to know how curious the soul mate world is."

...

She kept her eyes open concerned about Jungkook's strange lateness. He had his palms together holding his head so that it did not touch the pillow, after a while in the same position he had begun to heat up his cheek too much. In a quick glance at the hourglass, he realizes what time it is. Worries again, Jungkook usually didn't take that long. Lina purses her lips in an embarrassed pout. By zeus, he was really concerned about a god. Whose most remarkable characteristics are its immortality and strength. Nothing can happen to him because he's a fucking god. Quickly remembered.

A noise at the front door makes her suddenly nervous. When she sees her great figure come fully into the room from the mirror in front of the balcony, she closes her eyes like a little girl who fears being caught in her fachoria. He doesn't know why he does it, he just acts. He settles into bed to resemble a deep sleep state for when he comes close to kissing her forehead. However, nothing happens. Wait and wait but nothing happens.

Open one eye to find the situation but just see Jungkook's serious face. Then, she falls like a fool into her own doubt. He is upset, it shows from the tension that covers his shoulders under his armor. Leave the sword resting on a piece of furniture while you go to the bathtub. He feels an emptiness in his heart when he passes by without kissing his forehead. That, although it seems a gesture as simple as nothing, he had become accustomed to the warm sensation that his lips leave when he deposits a sweet kiss on his forehead every night. Something disturbed his mind. He seemed uneasy as he sat on the edge of the bathtub. I stretch a finger to touch check the water temperature. He sighed and got up again. I intended to say something but the words stuck in my throat when the top of his armor fell to the ground. The muscles of his strained back greeted me with open arms. His thick and strong arms for the first time in my sight. It was an image worthy of being engraved on a painting so that it will last for eternity. He had never had the privilege of seeing a half-naked man but despite his inexperience, he knew, the moment Jungkook turned and his abs reflected against the artificial light of the candles, that no man could match him even in the most remote dream . His jaw fell prey to such attributes, falling by itself. Underneath the sheets her legs were squeezed tight to ease the tickling that had begun to accumulate at her bottom. It was so illusory to think that just showing off her tanned skin would leave her so affected. Jungkook placed the helmet on top of a piece of furniture. Then, she brought her hands to her hips to proceed to lower her military skirt. Lina caught her bottom lip before closing her eyes tight. Deep down he knew it was wrong to spy on him that way. He knew it wasn't, but when the bath water shook from the weight of a body on top, his eyes widened anxiously again. His legs rubbed with need at the scene of a Jungkook moaning as he dropped his head, exposing his wet neck. Her Adam's apple was so attractive and thick. His breathing increased in such a way that he had to cover a moan, sinking his mouth into the pillow.

Jungkook, who until then had been absent, snapped his head up toward the bed. His eyes narrowed to improve eyesight in the dark. Silence flooded the room again. Jungkook reached out to brush the hair off his face and then refocused on his deep relaxation again.

He did not know how long he had been lost in the bathtub but he would swear that it could be perfectly confused with eternity. Now, dressed in white silk pants, he started on his way to the black sofa. He would like to say that the bath had improved his mood, but that would be lying. Things on earth were getting more difficult. A great war was coming just as Hoseok had said a couple of weeks ago. He kept receiving offerings. His head was full of prayers and future pledges of loyalty. Mortals always got heavy when they wanted the favors of the god of war because if you enjoyed the honor that his blessing granted you there would be no defeat on the horizon.

“Have you arrived later than usual today?” A terribly sweet voice sounded behind him causing the god to immediately stop arranging the pillows. Jungkook's shoulders strained from receiving so much tenderness after being subjected to violence and bitterness all day. Without a doubt, a contrast that improved any relaxing bath.

"Yes," Jungkook clarified, clearing his throat to clear his hoarse tone. "I've received many offerings lately."

"Is that bad?" Her curiosity marked by intrigue lovingly punished the ears of the god. Lina had decided to sit on the bed with the help of her arm to support herself. He kept the sheets glued to his chest as his open eyes sent worried glances at Jungkook's back.

"Yes, when they are excessive. That means that you are going to see a battle where many people are going to die," he assumed with too frightening sincerity. Jungkook continued with his task of tidying up the sofa. Lina for her part, had let out a gasp surprised by the comfort in her body. Jungkook didn't look affected, what's more, he seemed to hate talking about it.

"Today I have met Hera," she said. The fear was palpable in his gaze because he knew what his reaction would be. His head had started working to try to change the subject and that was the first one that came to mind. Of course Jungkook gave up everything he was doing in that instant. A pillow slid down her fingers until she fell to the floor. Then he turned to her with a disgusted look.

"I told you not to leave the house," he chided. Lina averted her eyes too intimidated by his strong scolding. Jungkook, desperate for an answer, strode to the bed, standing a few inches from the foot of the bed.

"I'm fine," she growled complaining like a girl who didn't like receiving punishment when she hadn't actually done anything wrong. Jungkook laughed sarcastic, exhaling pure irony from his mouth. Then, he grabbed a strand of her hair tightly and ruffled it in frustration as his eyes swept over her body.

"I see." He replied coldly. There was no life in his words but a rather dark emptiness. "But tell me, is there something else you have done that has prohibited you? I don't know, let me think. Have you met another goddess? Or no, much better Have you met another god? Have you let him touch you? Have you allowed other hands to touch you? Tell me who he is so I can ... "

“Jungkook!” Lina yelled hurt at all those meaningless assumptions. Humiliation blossomed within his chest as his gaze hardened to the point that he no longer had chestnut irises but empty, red sockets in the place of his eyes. His shriek seemed to bring his feet back to earth because his dark gaze immediately turned into a loss.

"Go to sleep ..." said Jungkook. His eyes lost in the infinity of his feet. Lina noticed how her shoulders dropped level when perceiving so much sadness in her puckered face. He opened his mouth to say something but Jungkook insisted again. "Just ... Go to sleep, Lina."

"Jungkook." She called out to him with sighs bathed in sadness. But he kept his head down on his way to the sofa. Lina tilted her head slightly when she saw him sit and moan uncomfortably. It felt so selfish to enjoy such a comfortable place knowing it was someone else's. Jungkook ended up lying down, then covered himself with a magenta blanket. Her back was still tense, not knowing if it was because of the uncomfortable furniture or because of her recent discussion. "Are you going to sleep there?"

"Where can I sleep if I don't?" Jungkook replied with a wry mockery. He removed his body to face himself. His hand causally held her head. Then he raised an eyebrow intrigued by her sudden interest.

"You can sleep here if you want," she suggested quite shyly.

It had sounded so low that for a moment she thought Jungkook hadn't heard her, but she pushed that thought from her mind when a small smile tightened at her sweet corners.

"Do you want me to sleep with you?" Jungkook asked with significantly improved humor. She licked her lips, leaving them moist and quite juicy in Lina's sight. Who could not help but warm his cheeks under his watchful eye.

"After all, it's yours. I'm just the girl who has selfishly occupied your bed ..."

"You haven't answered me, Lina." Jungkook said, lowering his voice to a tone a little lower than normal. Lina gulped nervously when she was startled by panic and her damn lopsided smile. "Do you want me in your bed?"

Knowing that his words might be misinterpreted, he decided to slowly nod. But Jungkook complained unsatisfied.

"Say it with your words, baby," I scold fondly as I wrinkled my nose. Her face threatened to explode with embarrassment. And yet, he couldn't recall a single moment when he could have felt so hot. The nickname had been spoken with a dangerous touch despite the honey in his voice.

"Yes, I want Jungkook ...

...

She squeezed her eyes shut as the sunlight completely consumed her sleep. She tried to move to stretch her stiff muscles but a large hand gripped her waist holding her still. Then, she was aware of the large hot mass just behind her. The large sculptural chest that clung to his back as if it were his second skin. And the hot breath that fell on her ear, making her feel so relaxing. Her stomach was suffocated by the focus of heat emitted by her hand placed on the area of ​​her belly, becoming an overly overwhelming hug. I reiterate in his attempt to free himself causing Jungkook to tighten his grip. I listen like a sleepy moan still wrapped in the deep worlds of sleep. Jungkook growled in his hair, burying his head in the hollow of his neck. Lina threw her ass back to knock him off hitting a fairly long frame. He opened his eyes when he realized he had just ground against his huge cock. Jungkook dipped a growl deep into his neck, firmly grasping his hand on his belly to keep it from bothering him further.

She timidly moved her arm to nudge him but froze when she felt Jungkook's hand slide slowly down, down, specifically in the area of ​​the junction between her thighs. With so much movement the dress had risen in such a way that it had ended up accumulating around her waist leaving the way free for her to pass the palm of the curve of her hip. The young woman suppressed a gasp when Jungkook touched the skin of her belly with the tips of his fingers to finish placing the open palm above her navel.

"Jungkook ..." she called between pleas, using a thread of voice to get his attention. Jungkook's chest swelled accordingly, imprisoning her further. Innocently, he had thought that it had all been part of a dream-dominated maneuver. But when she felt the edge of Jungkook's smile, she wasn't too attached to that theory.

"Shh ..." Silence over his ear. Her body rose against his to close the distance. Lina gasped at the so relaxing sensation that her suggestive caresses marked. She even ignored for a moment her viral need to breathe when she felt the tips of her fingers caress the waistband of her panties.

“Mail from the gods!” They shouted from the balcony, throwing a package of immense dimensions. The roar of crashing to the ground woke her brutally from her reverie. Jungkook cursed under his breath as he got out of bed. Lina suddenly felt helpless roaring a need for his body heat. With flushed cheeks I stick my knees to his chest and grab the sheets covering half of his face. All this while still observing Jungkook. He looked almost like a divine apparition looking so handsome just awakened when she had tousled hair and a puffy face. He had not been able to notice their semi-nakedness wearing only white cloth pants. His torso seemed much more spectacular now that he could appreciate it in the sunlight. His arms were stretched as he grabbed a book with the old cover reflecting its greatness with a pair of dilated veins in the area of ​​his forearm.

"Fucking shit," he roared as his eyes read something hastily. He did not take his eyes off the book, rereading the content in case it had been a mistake caused by fatigue. But when he reread the sentence, he ended up sending his hopes to hell for what was left of the day.

"What is it?" Lina asked. Too intrigued to remain silent. Jungkook looked at her quickly with an irritated sigh.

"The Offering Request Book." Jungkook replied quite annoyed. He hated that book with all his soul. He could perfectly spend the whole day reading the stupid wishes of mortals and he would still have hours to go from the first page. Could it be that they had gone crazy, or what? Jungkook thought pissed off. Overcome by anger, he closed the book abruptly, then tossed it on one of the tables. Then he sat wearily at the foot of the bed, his resigned gaze embedded in the book.

"Today is Sunday, don't you have a single day off?" Lina asked, quite indignant with the fact. Jungkook watched out of the corner of his eye as his lips pouted, tempting him to pinch his cheeks for teasing him so sweetly.

"Desire has no day on the calendar, Lina." Jungkook said, showing a little more reason to fulfill his obligations. The bed creaked beside him as Lina moved behind him with her knees resting on the mattress.

"But you've been away all week, I've hardly seen you." Can't you save it for another day? ”She suggested. Jungkook's ears snapped back, turning back to meet his desperate gaze.

“Are you asking me to put my obligations aside because you want to spend the day with me?” Jungkook asked incredulously. He was tempted to bite his tongue to see if he was still dreaming. Lina's cheeks turned deep red when she managed to realize what she has just proposed without being aware.

"I would perfectly understand that it is your duty ..."

"What?" Jungkook breathed, surprised by his sadness. "If being with you is the only thing I want right now," he snorted, feeling much lighter at once. "Trust me when I tell you that I would send everything to hell for spending a single day with you. Just tell me where you want to go and we will run if necessary.

"Well ..." she cleared her throat embarrassed by her contagious enthusiasm. "When I was a child my father always took me to a small theater in the town square," she confessed through a nostalgic smile.

"I'd love to go," Jungkook replied simulating the same smile. Lina nodded in agreement with her raw cheeks.

Tasting the sunlight directly after being locked up for several days had undoubtedly made her feel like pearls. Just like the first time he took a deep breath to fill his lungs with the rich oxygen. Lina was waiting for Jungkook in front of the doors while the god entrusted one of her brothers with her tasks, she thinks she heard that his name was Taehyung. Despite being in constant contact all day with one, one could not get used to the environment charged with gods. Taehyung radiated so much light that he knew in that instant that he was Apollo the Sun god. He managed to realize that this light not only came could be reflected from outside, but also came from within. He had been very kind and compassionate as he gave me a small bow in greeting imposing how little he cared about the difference in lineage.

"I think we can go now," Jungkook announced making an appearance. Lina stopped looking at the vast meadows of Hera's garden to turn to the god. Immediately, his eyes widened in surprise.

"Jungkook, you can't go like this," she said with slow laughter. His hand sweetly covered her mouth while inside her palm she bit a tempted lip. Jungkook, for his part, frowned as he visually reviewed his characteristic armor.

"It is my favorite armor," Jungkook said, plunged into a world of confusion.

"It is already very pretty. But, how do you think mortals will react if they see the god of War walking through his plaza so belligerent?"

"Oh," he groaned realizing that the girl was absolutely right. Too much chaos would undoubtedly ensue that would draw the attention of any god, including his father, which he did not want at the moment. Lina slightly increased her laugh as she saw Jungkook's wide eyes. From one moment to the next, the god snapped his fingers in a cloud of dust that covered him, then, when it completely dissipated, Lina slowly raised her eyebrows after seeing the outfit she was now wearing. It was nothing more than a white tunic of too fine origin but his wide arms managed to pronounce themselves by the sides and his chest was marked divinely. His tongue almost fell out of his mouth, forcing himself to calm down to avoid such embarrassment. "Is this going well?"

"Perfectly," she says, accompanied by a stutter and a rather uneasy nod. Jungkook smiles pleased at having made such an impression on her. Then he covers his arm around the girl's small waist to force her to walk towards a makeshift cloud at the end of the trail. In the course of the trip, he manages to discern the black figure of a woman leaning against an oak tree who observes them evilly from afar. Lina narrows her eyes to increase her visual acuity, so her neck is firmly raised with warning when she recognizes the goddess who was watching them as if she wanted to attack them. I briefly look at Jungkook who, absent from everything, had not blurred his smile. He didn't know what went through his head at that moment when in a movement he decided to wrap his anatomy around one of Jungkook's arms. The god was more than receptive giving his waist a squeeze sticking their bodies more. Consequently, Eris breathed pure fire through her mouth while digging her nails wildly into the apple she had been eating until then. He cursed pure oaths full of vengeance towards Lina but she completely ignored the goddess focusing only on the so relaxing heat radiating from Jungkook's body. He knew that they were nothing more than empty words invoked by his poison that he did not want to ingest.

Soon after, they ascended to the cloud of the god and descended gracefully to the earth. Specifically, behind some hidden bushes just next to the entrance of the town.

Lina could not describe the feeling that began to settle in her chest when, as she entered the town, feminine glances began to run through Jungkook's body with too much suggestion. Those women were completely attracted to the mortal-looking god, unable to take their eyes off such wonderful human sculpture. There was everything. From women well into maturity to young girls who were no more than sixteen. Jungkook felt the tension reflected in the shape of his grip with which he decided to give her a small intrigued look, Lina slowly denied so Jungkook decided to continue with the journey without insisting again.

Upon reaching the small square, nostalgia began to approach her, seeing a much smaller image of her running around enthusiastically while patiently waiting for the show to begin. The atmosphere had not changed much since the last time he had the privilege of attending, the laughter of the children remained just as vivid since then.

A beep made by a man with a kind of trumpet sounded giving the announcement that the function was about to open.

“Run, you have to get a good place!” Lina shouted excitedly as she tugged on Jungkook's arm. The god let him drag him to a free spot on the gravel floor. Sitting down, Lina clenched her fists, bit her lip, and trembled all over her body, transmitting too much despair and joy. Jungkook swept his body with a funny smile.

"Oh, welcome, my beloved gods!" Come! Sit down! ”A man with a rather comical look suddenly stepped onto the stage. Jungkook wrinkled his nose when he recognized the outfit so poorly made that he wore symbolizing Zeus. He carried a beam of cardboard stuck to the armor of the same material. Next, an elderly, old woman appeared just behind him, wearing a rather worn white robe. It was obvious that it was a satire for how the man's belly protruded through the armor and how the woman seemed not to know how to walk but Jungkook had tensed. Seeing her parents being portrayed so poorly had struck a chord with her.

"It is a play, Jungkook, they are not mocking, they just want to make the children laugh," she murmured near his ear to reassure him. Jungkook's shoulders dropped, relaxing as he understood the situation. It was true, because the children's laughs did not stop ringing. I bend his knee to support the forearm and thus manage to settle until the function will last.

A thin man could not but entered with great airs of the stage. Jungkook raised an eyebrow in amusement as he recognized the symbol on the artificial armor.

"Oh, Brother Poseidon, what a pleasant surprise!"

"How nice or eight quarters I come to complain about your daughter's scoundrel!"

Suddenly a woman the height of a pea entered the scene.

"Don't listen to this face stud asparagus just wants to confuse you!" The woman shouted, waving her arms exaggeratedly. The children's laughter exploded accordingly. Lina also let herself go, even Jungkook had to suppress a laugh. The show progressed without any problem now that Jungkook had been able to let go and be shaken by the barbarities of the actors. The main theme was the fight that took place between his uncle Poseidon and his sister Athena to achieve the sovereignty of Athens. Although they did not follow to the letter what really happened.

A skeleton man but in sight was that not with many lights he entered the stage with airs of greatness leaving the false gods speechless. Jungkook raised his eyebrows surprised to see himself represented so well compared to the other gods. Of course, he changed his mind when the man opened his mouth.

"I want blood!" The false god shouted with euphoria. The children stood up with their voices and began to scream supporting him in his fight. Lina started to panic when she caught a glance at Jungkook's jaw clenching furiously.

"But what does this fool say about the boat?" Asked the false Athena, slapping her forehead with her hand. The children stopped screaming to fall dead with laughter. Everything seemed to be going well until the false-quality feather of the fake Ares began to burn without explanation. Lina managed to realize what was truly happening when she watched as Jungkook focused his bloodshot eyes on the poor mortal.

Stunned by the dire consequences that could ensue if this continued to manifest itself, she grabbed Jungkook's hand and pulled him off the stage as quickly as she could. They ended up in a lonely alley behind the market.

"You can't use your powers here, Jungkook!" You almost burned that poor actor alive! ”I cry desperately so that he will understand the consequences of his actions. Jungkook was still clenching his jaw with his fists clenched dead in anger.

"I am not like that! I do not enjoy blood in battle! I am also in charge of judging the stupid mortals who die in war! Shit I don't just dedicate myself to violence! I cannot understand how ... "

"I know," I whisper directly to his face. His breath gently caressed her mouth as the girl's delicate hands caught her cheeks. Jungkook came down from the sky and rose at that precise moment. "I know that you are not like this. That you only fulfill your duties as a god. But you must understand that this is not Olympus and you cannot use your powers like this against mortals because it is not fair . "

"You are too good for me ..." Jungkook seduced, capturing a deeply attractive look in her eyes. He tilted a complacent smile as he felt the trembling of his hands as he placed his larger ones on top. After a flattering sigh, Jungkook began to lean his face towards hers, not taking his eyes off her pink lips. Lina had closed her eyes and brought her face closer, feeling the touch of her lips in a chill. He would have been carried away. He would have let himself be killed ...

But a loud roar confused with a malevolent laugh completely distracted them from their reverie.

“Is that the reason you refused to marry me?” A thick, rather familiar voice made Lina tense as she looked up in fear at Jungkook. Not by Jorge, of course, but by the vein that had begun to be marked on the neck of the god. When Jungkook peels off the wall to face the fat man behind him, Lina pales. Jungkook is immediately stopped by a small hand on his forearm.

"Don't fall for her game, let's go ..." She held back an anguished gasp. He was aware that Jungkook was glancing at him. "... please."

"Yes, bitch, go! Just how did you run away not to do your duty!"

A dismembered growl shot out from Jungkook's chest as he turned to grab the man's neck to stamp it on the wall to his right.

"How dare you speak to him that way? Not a hundred like you together would be worth enough to be worth it."

Her nostrils were forcibly dilated in order to maintain the stability of her irregular breathing. It hadn't cost her anything to carry the man's heavy weight, which surprised Lina with overwhelming horror. He realized in that instant that if Jungkook wanted he could reduce it to nothing with just a little squeeze.

"Jungkook, let it go," she asked in a persuasive tone. But Jungkook did not take his eyes from bloody eyes in the half-closed of his enemy. I'd make him eat his words so I had to tear his tongue out and sew it up again. Lina, her mind blank, wrapped one of her biceps urgently. So long and hard under his touch that he almost gasped in admiration. Hector's lifeless moan brought her back to the situation. "Prove to me that you are not what everyone thinks you are. Forgive your life and I will know that you are not as evil as others paint."

Jungkook's eyebrows slowly relaxed to stack in a straight line after uncrossing his frown. I lower my neck and watch her. The hopeful light that shone within her pupils said two things: that she believed in him and that she appreciated him. Perhaps that was the reason why he decided to release Hector. Maybe that was the reason why he stopped in front of Lina to smile at her with love.

“Don't you believe all those things about me?” Jungkook asked in a desperate but much calmer tone now that he was not under the control of anger. Lina mimicked her smile and slowly shook her head. Jungkook did not need words, since, with that gesture, he had no doubt that he was telling the truth. Feeling the luckiest in the world, he put aside the hasty sound of moans from shortness of breath. He could only notice her and no one but her. Her heart was pounding fiercely at the recent confession, which confirmed her suspicions that he hadn't lied.

“What kind of devil are you?” A hoarse voice cut through the space between them to run over Jungkook's ear. The god looked down at the human spoil that was dying on the ground for a little air. The shadow on his chin grew, giving him a much more terrifying appearance.

"Go away, Héctor, and don't come back here," Lina said abruptly to prevent the dispute from rising again from its ashes. The man scrambled to his feet and regarded her with contempt.

"If you think this is going to stay here ...

“Go away before I regret having spared your pathetic and shitty life!” His scream was with such a long impact that Hectos's hair stirred. The man opened his eyes in fright, turning around to run down the alley. I would have let him go unpunished. It was his intention. But two seconds after his departure Jungkook managed to hear a curse to the gods adding to the annoyance they had caused the god to use his powers on a human for the first time in centuries. I raise my hand and snap my fingers instantly making a fine rat tail appear on its huge behind. Lina widened her eyes in surprise but the laugh she exhaled was so strong that she completely forgot about the bad gesture she had just made.

"Who did what?" Commented the goddess Hera, laughing with emotion. Lina continued to rake the dirt as he accompanied her in feeling. She left her work for a second to wipe her hands of dirt on the dress.

"As you hear it, Hera." Very big and curly.

"God, my son, what ideas does my son have?" The goddess, too tempted, left her strawberry pick to sit on a white stone bench and rest a bit and improve her posture to keep laughing. After a few seconds of silence flooded by the sound of the birds singing, the goddess watched as Lina rummaged in the ground to plant a seed that would give a strawberry plant in days. Lina, noticing Hera's strange muteness, turned her head to blush just later. "I gather that your relationship is getting better and better."

"I am not going to deny that in these months I have managed to get affection for him, but Hera I still see in Jungkook the person who distanced me from my loved ones," she commented under her breath in a tone infused with anguish and nostalgia. It had been quite a few months since his arrival at Olympus and therefore for quite a few months that he had not heard from his father or nanny. He did not know how his command in the kingdom was going if he had had a problem or if he continued to maintain the diet that he said was absurd but kept his old heart away from suffering some malignant disease.

"I understand ..." whispered the thoughtful goddess. "You miss the life you led before." But what about the life you lead now you don't like? "

"I don't know," she confessed, quite confused. She did not live badly, that is, Jungkook treated her with affection and respect, always trying to provide her with everything she wanted but the material world perishes without an emotional world to bond with. Lina at this time had developed a very strong feeling for Jungkook but did not know if it was negative or positive.

After spending the entire afternoon helping Hera in her garden, she told him to take a few strawberries for dinner. Lina accepted the delighted offer and much more after being informed that by chance that was Jungkook's favorite fruit. The god had been taking her to incredible places that she never dreamed of knowing. Now it was his turn to return the favor a little.

I place the cutlery in line with the cups and napkins. He had prepared a fruit cocktail that far from bluffing had come out with a spectacular pint. Lina sat in her usual seat while waiting for the clock to strike nine at night. Time the god had promised to arrive that night. And he did not lie. After the ding-dong of the clock the doors were opened with a heavenly air giving way to Jungkook who smiled in surprise when he ran into the table so well decorated.

“And this?” Jungkook asked, lost in the planned details of the table. Of course, his eyes stopped glad when he saw the fruit bowl, more specifically the strawberries crowned on top.

"I still haven't thanked you for taking me to the Alps," she said, clasping her hands in her lap to squeeze them nervously. Jungkook frowned in amusement and then shook his head in denial.

"I did not do it to reward me. However, I must say that I will not reject this wonder. My God, they are my mother's strawberries!" Jungkook shouted excitedly at last recognizing the smell of the red frit. Lina laughed, tempted by her childlike behavior.

Soon after they began to have dinner. The dishes did not take long to be emptied by the excruciating hunger that both possessed. However, that brief period gave them enough time to have a little chat. After finishing a session of laughter for a Jungkook joke about his wet uncle's hair. I snap my fingers, suddenly bringing up a floating orchestra that soon begins to play classical music. Lina raised her eyebrows tempted as Jungkook rose from his chair and offered her hand to invite her to dance.

She didn't know how long they had been holding each other but since the first chorus of the first song Lina had let herself go, resting her cheek on her chest. Jungkook's hands spread apart, one squeezing her waist to attract her and the other holding her hand firmly. Jungkook breathed in his hair, the sweet smell of honey led him to a kind of trance from which he did not want to leave. He squeezed her tighter, he needed to feel her small body melt into his. Lina formed a nice little smile as the warmth of her body hugged her tighter. After finishing the song, an invisible force seduced her to come out of her hiding place and she will raise her head towards Jungkook. The god leaned his neck to brush against their noses making the girl close her eyes. It was all so wonderful. When Lina's eyes opened again, she met Jungkook's dark eyes that desperately clamored for his attention. From the first time in a long time it felt like I was in the right place. There, in Jungkook's arms seeing how he leaned more and more towards his lips. When they were brushed, he pointed out that they were kissed for the first time, a rather familiar melody that made Lina come out of the trance and watch the lost floating instruments.

“What's wrong?” Jungkook asked worried about the tension that began to build up in the shoulders of the girl who had not taken her eyes off the instruments.

"That song ..." she began to speak but was forced to stop by the saliva accumulated in her throat that forced her to swallow. "That song was played by my father to calm me down when I was little."

Jungkook widened his eyes aware of the serious mistake he had made. Feeling guilty for being responsible for stealing his joy.

"Sorry, Lina, let me remove it."

"No!" She cried desperately. Jungkook let his heavily suspended arm drop. "Please don't take it off ... That song reminds me of him."

The atmosphere of love vanished as Lina walked to the table with her back to Jungkook. The god watched from a distance as she reached out to touch a half-empty glass.

"You miss him, don't you?"

"Yes," he agreed. Then he turned and gave her a sad grimace with his lips. Jungkook was lost in the marble floor when his discomfort led him to the darkness of the depths of his mind.

"What if I told you that you can see him again as many times as you want?"

Lina raised her head excitedly.

“Is that possible?” She asked with all the innocence in the world. Jungkook nodded with a bright smile. "Then she would be the happiest woman in the world."

To say that suffering the state of happiness was not pleasant would be telling lies. The next day, Jungkook had arranged a cloud to bring him down to the mainland, more specifically towards my father's castle. In the course of the trip he had not been able to stop admiring the wheat fields that decorated the surroundings. He smiled as he remembered how many times he had lost himself in that tall grass. As expected, people reacted with surprise when he saw her come down from that spongy structure. Soon after, he found his father sitting in the throne room.

Lina intended to get closer but stopped abruptly when I catch the heavy air from the atmosphere. His father was sad, he noticed it in the decline of his shoulders and how his smile had completely disappeared to exchange it for a weak grimace.

"Hello, Dad." His voice hit the old king's ears as if it were an apparition. Instantly I lift my head like a new spring. Her hands hugged her mouth in excitement when she saw the figure of her daughter at the doors.

“Lina?” Asked the old man lost in emotion. When the girl nodded in a smile, the man knew that it was not a mirage, the fruit of sleepless nights. It was real. His daughter. Her little girl was there. The king came down from the throne to run towards his daughter and thus melt into a hug so needed for the months without seeing each other. "My sweet girl ... I've missed you so much."

"And I, Daddy," I cry helplessly, hiding my face in his father's chest. The man began to gently caress her head to make sure, again, that the presence of his daughter was not the result of his imagination. Then I grab Lina by the shoulders so I can see her better.

“Has he set you free?” Asked the old man, yearning for hope. Lina smiled, exchanging it for a serious grimace. When he shook his head, his father's joy disappeared from the window. Feeling her daughter's tears run down her rosy cheeks, she raised her fingers to remove them. "I would give my life to exchange with you, my child."

"Don't suffer, dad." The girl wrapped her hands around her father's wrists to reassure him, "He treats me very well. What's more, he let me see you."

But the foolish king ends up turning his back on his daughter. The deepest part of him could not bear to hear how happy she sounded when she said that this selfish god made her happier than he, his own father.

"That right shouldn't be done as a favor." He roared against the god. Lina furrowed her eyebrows in embarrassment. Her heart had turned black and her jovial voice had been transformed into a much rougher, more threatening one. Lina raised a hand to touch her father's shoulder, however, some doors were thrown open and a soldier looking quite distressed entered them.

"My king the red soldiers ... Princess Lina."

Lina reacted with a nod. However, even though the soldier's posture had calmed down a bit in his presence when his eyes went back to the king they tensed again.

“Daddy, is something wrong?” She asked, quite concerned, interspersed with confused glances between the soldier and her father. The old king watched his daughter with a forced smile before commanding the soldier to shut up with a look full of warning.

"No, my life." But her denial had sounded so tense that Lina didn't believe her. "Nana is in the kitchen, she goes looking for him, I'm sure she'll love to see you."

It was the last thing he said before leaving the doors in the company of the soldier.

...

It had been a day full of activities. The nanny, as expected, had received him with great joy in a maternal hug. He had spent practically his entire visit in the kitchen drinking tea and eating nana's cheesecakes. Between bite and sip they had been engulfed in a conversation about what their life on Olympus was like. He told her about Hera, a very tender goddess who treated her as her own daughter despite being mortal. He told him about Taehyung, who later explained that it was Apollo but that he had asked him to call him by his mortal name. And of course, the most talked about topic was Jungkook. He had had to reassure him because the moment he named the god he began to hyperventilate. She told him that all these months Jungkook had managed to win her heart, that they were very good friends and that he treated her very well. She was still blushing from the look so mischievous that the nanny showed her in the talk.

Now, already on Olympus, he was walking back to his home. Entering through the door, Taehyung was unexpectedly found in the middle of the room.

"Hello, Lina." Tae greeted warmly through a small bow.

"Hello," she replied with the same enthusiasm as the god. After the introductions Lina could not help looking for another god with her eyes but stopped doing it when she realized that Taehyung was alone. "And Jungkook?"

"He's not here." His voice came out fast and compulsive as if he was trying to avoid something. However, she didn't pay much attention to it, since, she assumed it to the shyness that the god still felt for her. "How has the visit to your father gone?"

"How?"

"Being all day above heaven you are used to seeing everything that happens on earth," Taehyung explains with a shrug.

"I understand ..." I pursed my lips and raised my eyebrows. "Well, actually, it went very well."

“You missed him, didn't you?” The god's voice changed suddenly, sounding understanding. Lina broke the smile by walking on topics that plunged her into a feeling of longing.

"Much."

"The summer solstice is approaching a time to spend with the family," said the god so vagini. Lina looked at Taehyung carefully. He did not know it but in reality it had sounded as if that phrase had wanted to say it but it had been difficult for him to pronounce it.

“What?” She asked with a sarcastic laugh. He did not understand her sudden curiosity. His curiosity was accompanied by something more than innocence but he could not decipher what it was.

"I'm sorry if my question offended you. I'm just curious to know how you feel about having the option of choosing to be someone else. You know, choosing what you want to be tomorrow without the guidelines to follow that are governed by your nature."

"Oh. Well ..." he was speechless at his attack of sincerity. Her mind had suddenly gone blank. "... I would choose the previous life ..." Her voice sounded so sincere that her heart thumped. His heart was not the only one that was pounding because behind a wall at the entrance to the bedroom was a heartbroken Jungkook. Her eyes closed in pain. I had hoped that in those months ... But no. She still wanted her life from before. I preferred never having met him. Willing not to mistreat himself anymore, he went out onto the balcony, unaware that the girl had not finished talking. "... but that was before all this. During these months I have changed a lot. My perspective on the world was not the same until I really lived. It will sound silly but I don't want to leave as much as before. I don't know, I suppose I've found a habit in my life now. "

"I'm glad to hear that." Taehyung spoke sincerely. Both smiled absent all the evil that would come later.

When fear coupled with anger create an explosive mix. Every god that crossed Jungkook moved out of his way in a hurry. The god frowns so intensely that his eyes will pop out of their sockets at any moment. He couldn't stop blaming himself. Of hating himself for being so weak before a woman. Listening in the first person as he rejected it had been completely devastating. He no longer cared about anything he might long for before.

He broke in with his strong figure in the assembly area where his father, mother, uncle and sister were discussing something that the god did not mind interrupting.

“Zeus!” He shouted with such anger that the gods turned to him immediately. The god of lightning went down a few steps to position himself in front of his son. They both frown, punishing themselves with inhuman hatred. One for his aching heart and the other for having been stopped in a real fight of words. Hera touched her desolate chest when Jungkook after relaxing his depressed features fell to his knees before his father. With her head down so as not to see him because of the vengeance of not having been able to prevent some tears from leaking down her cheeks.

"You were always right. You always were ..." Jungkook repeated dead while alive. His tone without force hit Zeus in such a way that his bad mood quickly dissipated.

"What are you talking about, my son?" He replied with the same lost nostalgia. He raised his eyebrows and opened his mouth slightly, finding himself enveloped in an aura consumed by sadness.

"She will never love me ..." he confessed with a broken voice letting the melancholy slowly drown him. After a brief silence Jungkook gained enough courage to direct his eyes to his father's. "She hates me."

Zeus instantly looked away from his son to turn around to focus on his wife's impressed posture. Hera with her heart in her fist made the same journey to stand in front of him.

"I have come to receive my punishment," Jungkook said in a voice as dark as sad. Zeus blinked nervously just before his arm was terribly shaken by a desperate Hera.

"Zeus, you can't ...

“Is that what you want?” Zeus asked as a last resort to appeal to his conscience. But Jungkook didn't take that time to think but rather to find more reasons to accept his mistake.

"It's what I swore," he sentenced with all the pain in his soul. Zeus had his chin raised. He stay quiet. It really was the first time that something left him speechless. When I lift a hand and place it on top of her head Hera widened her eyes hysterically.

"Zeus no .... No! Athena! Poseidon! Please stop this madness!" The goddess turned to them for help finding an unemployed Yon as or almost more affected than her mother. Jin, on the other hand, had decided not to intervene, as something happened between father and son.

"From today until the end of time I take away your condition ..." the god closed his lips again, not wanting to finish the sentence. Within his chest he still harbored a small speck of hope that cried out that his son would regret his decision, that he would get up and that a few days later the matter would be more than forgotten. But unluckily for the god, Jungkook, had inherited that stubborn part of his family branch by keeping his knee firmly against the ground. "From god."

"Zeus not for God's sake!" Cried Hera, totally overwhelmed. Divine light welled up from Jungkook's body to fade shortly thereafter revealing dark skin whose only difference was that it was no longer impenetrable. Jungkook felt his body try to fail forward because of the weakness that amazed him all at once. He felt as if his structure was not as strong, as if his muscles had begun not to help him up.

"You will be provided with a cloud to bring you down to earth," Zeus commented through a harsh tone that only hid how bad he felt at the time. He had an anguish that bent him forward. Jungkook didn't even look at him before heading out the doors. Hera sobbed so loudly that Zeus closed his eyes as the goddess's footsteps began to sound as he followed Jungkook out.

"Jungkook!" No! Please, no… ”The screams had gone from torn to hoarse as a result of the tears that had begun to cloud her vision. She begged him to stop her walking but he ignored her for the good of both of them. Finally, as a last resort he ended up collapsing to the ground on his knees and grabbing one of Jungkook's legs. When she felt her mother's cold fingers counteract with her warm skin, she had a devastating shiver.

"Mother, get up," he demanded annoyed, lifting his mother from the ground quite embarrassed. The goddess desperately denied before trying to get hooked again. Jungkook shook her shoulders to wake her up. "It was my decision." His roar left her paralyzed, still, shattered as she watched her son climb onto a cloud. Jungkook stared at the floor of the mortal world making him swallow by pure inertia. The empty knot that settled in her stomach made it difficult for her to breathe an increase in dimension when she directed one last glance at Hera. "Goodbye, mother."

"Jungkook!" Jungkook! ”The goddess screamed, kicking the ground in a fury but it was too late. The cloud had moved far enough away that she couldn't touch it. Plunged into a deep pain that would be forever etched in her soul, I ignore everything around her. Not seeing when one of his children approached.

“What's wrong?” Taehyung's sweet voice shakes her violently causing her to raise her head in despair.

"Where's Lina?" Asked the needy goddess.

"In the mansion but what ...

"There is no time for explanations. Your father has committed an unforgivable injustice ...

The goddess quickly rose from the ground and began to run towards what until that day had been the home of her now banished son.

“Lina!” Hera's desperate screams bounced off every corner creating a heartbreaking atmosphere. Lina, who until then had remained on the balcony admiring the sweet view of the clear sky, had been scared to hear that someone urgently needed her.

“What's wrong Hera?” She asked disoriented when she saw Hera with tears in her eyes and a confused Taehyung behind.

"Do you love my son?"

"What?" She replied, lost in the abruptness of her tone. He managed to perceive true urgency in his face, leaving her even more out of place. Then, noticing Taehyung's sad appearance, his chest managed to alter in such a way that he began to fear the worst. “Has something happened to Jungkook?” Despite the stability of his voice, it could be judged how his extended expressions reflected the clear concern. After the silence of both, Lina was shaken by a feeling of madness. "What happened? Speak!"

"Zeus has taken away his god status," said Taehyung, who had listened to the quick story his mother had told him before breaking into the mansion. Hera covered her face to silence the tired sobs from so much trembling. Lina heard her heart stop at that very moment.

"Why?" Overwhelmed by the new devastating news, her breathing increased leaving her dizzy for a couple of minutes.

"Because Jungkook believes that the deal has been broken," Hera muttered under his breath, immediately taking Lina's gaze that until then had remained in Taehyung since he spoke.

"What deal?"

"At the beginning of winter, he and Zeus reached an agreement if you did not fall in love with him before the summer solstice would come, he would give up his life," Taehyung explained in great detail with all the regret of his soul. Hera nodded corroborating the facts as she approached Lina.

"Now I need you to tell me if everything that has happened has been the result of deceptive confusion."

"I have to speak to Zeus," Lina said hurriedly. Hera saw that gesture as the light that still shone within hope.

After breaking into the meeting room with the name of Zeus, being violently acclaimed by the mortal, the god did not take long to make himself present. When he saw her attacked with his wife and son, he rolled his eyes. She wanted to regret her son's farewell in solitude. What she needed least now was that her sensitive state was a dispute with a mortal.

"I see you've already been told the story."

"You made a mistake with Jungkook." If what he really wanted was to take revenge on me, he should have done it directly with me, ”she demanded, letting herself be carried away by the stress of the situation. Zeus furrowed his eyebrows offended by his tone so altered that it hit his headache hard.

"Who are you tasteless mortal who dares tell the god of gods what to do?"

"I am the mortal who loves her son." I finally confess the greatest secret kept within her warm heart. The hall of gods was filled with shocked screams being a few, those of Hera, Taehyung and Yon the only ones who showed a pleased grimace.

"I don't believe you," Zeus roared in response. He turned his back on her, unable to keep his gaze so cold that the mortal stared at him in fury.

"It's the truth." But she roared louder from the depths of her being.

"I am old and wise you will be used to deceiving your kind but you will not entangle me." Zeus's voice sounded firm, quite hard even though inside he had not been able to prevent his heart from jumping briefly.

"It is no wrong."

“Have you forced her to come?” The god abruptly turned to Hera to rebuke her passionate behavior. Although, in reality, what was correcting him had been the fact that he had gone to beg for help from a mortal, and especially the mortal who had caused Jungkook's departure.

"I came on my own." When Lina spoke bravely Zeus's eyes locked on her again.

"You're late anyway, the evil is already done." Although he was dying of pain, he was not entirely uncertain. I just wanted to see how that conversation played out.

"You are Zeus, let me doubt it." Lina assured with a laugh almost as sarcastic as her smile. "If the problem was my stay, it can be solved by sending me back to earth." But Jungkook does not have to pay for this and you do not have the right for gods' sake to take away his power.

"Would you be willing to go back to your house and forget all this?" Zeus repeated, keeping his composure, being quite difficult to suppress the surprise that had come over him when he heard her so sure.

"I would be." The courageous gleam in his eyes gave Zeus the last confirmation he needed.

"This is my deal, I will return Jungkook's powers on the only condition that you leave Olympus forever."

"I accept it."

Zeus, as with Jungkook stopped for a few seconds so that Lina will show her true nature. But seeing that the woman didn't utter a single word and then her chin was slightly raised, I just nodded. I raise my right hand and snap my fingers.

Lina, dead inside, looked at Hera for a few seconds before looking at Zeus and turning to leave. Unlike Jungkook, this time, Hera did manage to stop Lina. Taking him by the hands to give him a squeeze that simulated true gratitude. Lina opted to give him a longing smile before redirecting her way out.

The loud slamming of the gates was entirely outrageous.

"I admit that I have been surprised by your courage and I must say that my son will be stupid but also very lucky."

Lina frowned, turning her eyes from the closed doors to the god who had approached and activated a much softer smile.

"Thank you, Zeus," she said. He nodded to show her respect.

"Call me father," the god answered back. Unlike his previous tone this time he had used a more peaceful one. Lina opened her eyes when I decipher the meaning of her words. "As far as exile is concerned, I think it would be quite a petty action to separate two souls who love each other." I hope you make my son happy and when he returns from the war ...

“What war?” Lina suddenly stopped at the god, frowning hard.

"Didn't Jungkook tell you?" Wow, I don't want to sin with my long tongue but ... Apparently a novice prince has threatened your father's kingdom, Jungkook must be helping with his troops right now. Although from that hours ago I suppose he will be back ...

Lina runs towards the doors to open them desperately on her way to the mansion with her heart in her hand. Everything begins to make sense. Jungkook's mysterious meetings with a group of humans. The golden armor that I had never seen him wear polished and put on at first standing out among all as if he would soon wear it. His father's nerves as he looked at the sword carefully placed in the case of his armor. The soldier's hustle. Everything had been in front of her these weeks and yet he had focused so much on her that she had gone blind. Perhaps it was concern that manipulated her feet to make them move faster. The only thing he knew faithfully was that when he opened the doors of the mansion and saw his broad back, he put his hands to his mouth.

As expected the startle of the doors hitting the wall surprised Jungkook turning disoriented until a much smaller body and much softer hands surrounded his neck, it was at that moment when he could say that he had come home.

“Lina?” Jungkook's voice came out concerned, low at the closeness of their bodies. God's arms delicately held her waist to hold her in place. Lina, tiptoeing to reach his neck, contracted her face from the hollow of the shoulder to look at him. Jungkook was overworked when he saw how her beautiful green eyes were drowned in tears. He brought his thumbs to her cheeks to clean them, making the girl emit a small sob.

"Why did you do it?" She said, exhaling a hoarse sigh that penetrated the depths of her being. Jungkook relaxed his features in surprise when he understood her sadness. However, she did not imitate his melancholic smile, on the contrary, at that moment the corners of Jungkook rose forming a small but so emotional smile "You ..." but I ended up being controlled by a small spasm from crying. "You no longer had your powers. You were no longer a god. Why did you fight knowing that you could die?"

"Mortal or god. Life or death. What difference does it make? I would give everything I have and don't have so that smile never disappears." There were no more accurate words to explain the whole swirl of feelings that roar in his chest. Jungkook kept his hands firmly pressed to his cheeks as he saw the sweetest look ever produced as his sad and desolate aura changed to one with an air full of hope and love. I hear her heart beat a thousand times an hour, observing every beautiful detail of her face, trying to decipher the look her sweet eyes showed. "Lina, I ..."

But his lips were quicker in that battle to speak. Taking him by surprise the girl pounced with enthusiasm towards those soft bellies. He managed to feel a chill from head to toe when he finally fulfilled his most desired wishes. When she felt Jungkook's lips not quite begin to move, she stopped, looking away, terrified that she had been seized by his impulses and not thought that maybe he had been too hasty. Opening the eyes he had closed when his lips collided with hers, he found dilated irises that had taken the form of black spheres. Lina couldn't help her mouth from looking slightly open when his wild gaze cursed her. With highly rapid breathing falling in hot waves on her lip, drying her sweetly. The blood drained from his face completely as Jungkook pressed his neck forward to stamp his lips with hers in a lustful kiss.

She immediately opened her mouth letting her tongue enter anxiously. Soon, the hands squeezing her shoulders had grown into small fists in her hair, causing strands to escape from her hands. Jungkook's palms marched his way down the curve of his butt to settle at the start of his thighs. He lifted one of them to stick it to his leg while lifting it minimally towards one of the columns. Her back curved forward being cornered by his firm chest. The palm that encircled her thigh with her hip had begun to lift the fabric of her long dress uncovering her sweet leg. It didn't take long for his hot fingers to go through the gap, working ardently toward her bottom to knead it. Her broad knee clenching at her sweet spot as her other hand slipped to one of her shoulders to eagerly pull the fabric down. The fabric cracked but none cared. Jungkook peeled his lips away in a wet snap to start giving wet kisses across his jaw. His hands clenched into fists as his knee finally sat on the wall. Fascinated by his ease at holding her, he groaned heatedly as the moisture from her crotch began to trickle down the edges of her panties rather than stained.

“Tell me what you want, baby?” With her lips slipping vilely over his pulse, she was terribly intimidated when an almost shallow kiss caressed the junction of her neck. He lifted his leg, driving the tip of her knee into her swollen clit making a needy moan come urgently from his lips.

"I want you ..." I whisper in an agitated howl when I hear the fabric of her skirt tear up to above her navel. Jungkook made a curious sound with his mouth as he slid the hand that had been on his behind into the panties. The nails immediately grasped the biceps of that arm urgently, causing a smile to form on his skin.

"You have to be more specific, there are many things I can do to you right now ..." he commented with an air of comfort as he let his skillful fingers touch the porcelain skin of her vagina. Unconsciously, Lina spread her legs wider to let him pass but Jungkook didn't move, just squeezed so he would notice where he was. With a kiss on her cheek she buried her mouth in his ear to whisper hotly. "I can urge you with my fingers or I can also eat your little kitten until you scream my name, since you would love it and fuck me too. But ... Do you know what I want to do? I want to spread your legs and fuck you against the wall while you cry because your little pussy will not be able to bear the size of my big cock. "

"Yes, yes ..." I whimpered in response to the harsh words that savagely hit her ear. His nails dug deeper into her forearm, making a deafening growl erupt from the back of her throat. Her body came to be supported only by her knee as she brought her hand to his neck to propel her into a quick kiss, full of tongue and despair. As they parted, Lina swore that if Jungkook kept smiling like this, he would end up in an orgasm as soon as he started. I bring her thumb to her bottom lip to drag it down and squeeze it with lust. His pupils black as he reveled in the swelling and redness of it.

"I've never fucked a virgin before, I promise I'll take care of you," he murmured in a conciliatory tone, his hand on her chin, tilting her head in a sweet smile. Lina nodded slowly in response. His lip bounced when he released it. Jungkook bowed his head and caught her lips again, this time, with a tremendously sensual slow kiss. Palms firmly on her thighs, I lift her up quickly to take her to the bed to lay her down. Lina closed her eyes as she moaned in shock when Jungkook's hands tore at the little attached fabric of her dress leaving him naked. we are going to spend tonight ... "I announce dry with eyes wandering around every curve, every piece of bare skin. His huge palm began a shallow journey along his body, stopping just at the convergence point of his legs. His thumb delicately rubbed her red clit as her lopsided smile came out again. Lina tilted her head back when she heard his deep voice full of lust again. "Are you going to let me taste your virgin pussy, baby?"

"Jungkook ..." she complained, she felt a not soft bite on her inner thigh. Jungkook laughed pleasedly giving another in response to the other thigh leaving a red mark that would later be impregnated with purple. Everything reached its peak when he felt his flat tongue pass superficially across his lips. The girl's hand ran to tighten her locks in excitement prompting Jungkook to repeat the smiling gesture. With her hands resting on the inside of her thighs, she spread her legs wider to improve access. He ran his tongue again, but this time he was parting his lips with his fingers to savor her dripping hole. Lina swore to die of a spasm when she noticed how his mouth absorbed all her essence, moaning satisfied soon after. The finger that had been dancing around her clit had been slammed into her hole, earning Lina a loud scream. The sensation was not entirely painful, it was just a small annoying intrusion that was gradually pushed aside by the anxious tongue that caressed the crack. When her moans began to stabilize Jungkook stuck out his thumb and inserted two fingers. Lina groaned loudly at the pressure pulling at her roots. Jungkook kissed her clit to reassure her. The fingers took a while to start his movement, giving him the necessary time to get used to it, soon he began to ask for more between moans, despair, spread his legs more ... Until she was blessed by a third finger. The pressure was still there, yet it wasn't as bad as she'd imagined the pleasure overshadowing everything else. Soon after, a rather overwhelming balloon began to accumulate in her lower abdomen. She did not know that she was just aware that she urgently needed to free herself. Jungkook felt the need for her moans increasing the movement of his tongue over her clitoris followed by the sticking out of his fingers. "God, god ... Jung-koook!" God!

"Come on, you dirty little run for me."

His words were all it took to explode a loud scream of pleasure. A strong cramp ran through her body from head to toe leaving her paralyzed. Her stomach rising and falling from exhaustion. His mouth parted as he breathed out heavy air. His eyes half closed with the feeling of calm that had clouded his vision. Jungkook took advantage of that moment to remove each part of the armor. The quick movement made Lina look forward agitated. I gulp at the heavenly image. Her tanned skin filled with muscles taut from the pressure. Her wonderful pecs with pink nipples that evoked madness. He followed a downward path down his sprawling arm until he was breathless when he saw what his hand was drowning. Long, thick and big his cock was beautiful, worthy of a god. The tone of its exquisite skin but with the red tip with precum accumulated at its tip. He reached out to touch her but his exhaustion was such that he could only slide the tips of his fingers across his chiseled abs.

She groaned disoriented when she felt the weight of her body crush his. I bring my palms to his broad back, delighting in the softness of his skin. A wet kiss on her neck to distract her from what's truly important. The tip of his cock ran through her folds to lubricate her previous orgasm. The feeling, far from being rough, seemed soft, a little cold but pleasant. His hands hooked to her waist to place her under his heavy body. Lina, her eyes half-open focused on the magenta light of sunset, smiled briefly until excruciating pain began to settle inside her. He closed his eyes tightly. Gimio hurt with her nails digging accordingly and her legs closing against his waist. Jungkook reassured her with small murmurs in her ear until the pain became secondary after a while. The pressure of the nails left her strength, the complaint in her voice stopped being heard.

"You can move ..." she announced in a weak but sure voice. Jungkook stroked her thighs reassuringly before moving her hips. Jungkook growled pleased with the pleasure, covering Lina's small moan. Jungkook moved again, tearing a louder moan from her. Finally, taking enough courage, she turned her head and collided with her nose. He groaned again with his mouth open as he felt her deep thrust. She brought her legs up and gently squeezed his back, bringing a smile from him as he noticed her recent emotion.

"So tight ... fucking tight ... oh fuck." He growled in satisfaction at her moans. I attack his mouth with emphasis a brief moment before moving away from his lips and lunging a little harder. Lina squeezed her back, throwing her head back, exposing her neck for Jungkook to kiss the point of her pulse.

"Faster ..." he yelled when his hips were thrown forward along with his. Her movement was so deep, so fast, so sensual. I had never felt so much pleasure. He felt that his throat would ache tomorrow but he couldn't help but scream every time Jungkook hit his hips enthusiastically.

"That's ..." he roared loudly in his mouth as his nose wrinkled and his forehead sweated from the heat. Lina moaned, roared, cried whatever sound she was going to expel through her mouth had stopped being controlled. "What a good fuck it is taking my cock so well." He reached up to squeeze her tit hard while he fucked her harder. Lina moaned as her tongue went to wet her erect nipple. A hard impulse caused both of them to moan with pleasure and they looked at each other with an ecstatic smile. Jungkook kissed her lips like an animal before separating and colliding their foreheads. He put a finger into her mouth on the spur of the moment, the same one he inserted into her vagina earlier, allowing her to savor her own scent. Afterward, he began to massage her burning clit with force. "I want you to wet my cock again before I come, understand?"

Lina nodded agitatedly closing her eyes and moaning her head back. Jungkook growled in disapproval, violently grabbing his neck to force him to look at him.

“Use your fucking mouth!” He roared loudly, ramming him too enthusiastically. Tomorrow she probably couldn't walk but she didn't mind moaning louder and spreading her legs wider. "If that?"

“Yes, Jungkook!” She replied in a sharp cry, overwhelmed by the tension building up again. Jungkook's finger began to rub harder, soon bringing her to a much more devastating orgasm. He called out her name one last time before dipping his cock in her scent. Jungkook dropped to his knees. He placed his palms on her hips, not letting her rest as he let her head drop with pleasure. Lina moaned in pain from over excitement but did not stop. She let him continue to lash out at her as hard as he wanted using her to reach her orgasm. Two more deep thrusts and Jungkook ran to get his cock out of her. I jerk her violently against her stomach until jets of sperm finally came out wetting her entire belly. Jungkook slumped forward, letting himself be carried away by exhaustion. Lina hugged him, ignoring the sticky moisture from her stomach. Afterward, Jungkook came out of the trance by lying on one side. He caught her by the waist to place her on top of him with his leg above her pelvis.

"You know what?" She commented enthusiastically, sending him a bright look. Jungkook lovingly inhaled her hair before pressing her small body against his.

"Than?"

"I love you too," she murmured in a low tone as if she was reciting a secret that she just wanted Jungkook to hear. He raised his eyebrows playfully making her laugh.

"You know what?" Jungkook asked, pursing his lips as he groaned thoughtfully.

“What?” Lina's laughter made him want to live.

"You smell like semen, baby."

“Jungkook!” She yelled shocked as she raised her hand to hit her stomach. The god laughed at Lina's red cheeks, not being able to hold her very tight.

"Oh, yes, yes, come here."

#bts #btsv #btvs #BTSP #bts fic #bts jin #bts icons #bts smut #jeon jungkook #BTS jungkook #jeon jungguk #jungkook #Jung HoSeok #bts smau #jungkook smut #kpop smut #Smut #jungkookgod #bts jungguk #jeon jeongkook #jeon jeongguk #jeongguk #bts au fanfic #bts fanfic #fanfic #bts fluff #jungkook fluff #icons jungkook #networkbangtan #bangtan

[frankendeers]

Kylux and the Queer Literary Tradition

So, I have seen a lot of people talk about Kylux in terms of queer fetishisation or even labelling it a “crack ship”.

The discourse has somehow made Kylux out to be this straight-girl fantasy where two men are simply shipped because they are white and handsome. Such an unfavourable interpretation completely takes away from many Kyluxers being queer and/or poc themselves as well as shaming straight people for seeing queer potential where it’s not canonically stated to be. Since the comic came out, there has been much elation because it finally “confirms” some of the things that appeal to Kyluxers, therefore justifying the ship. I don’t think, however, that Kylux has ever been anything but rather conventional in its queer subtext. Kylux falls in line with a long tradition of homoerotic aggression between two men. I will try to put this into words as eloquently as I can.

First, let’s talk about how Kylo Ren/Ben Solo and Armitage Hux are queer coded on their own before moving on to their relationship.

Armitage Hux is almost comically queer coded. The act of feminising a villain to subtly convey to the audience that he is gay and therefore “morally reprehensible” has been a practice since the Hays code era (in some respects even before that -as the Victorian Age marks the beginning of our modern understanding of gender and subsequently, its subversion). He is seen to be physically weak, petty, moving and snarling and “bitching” in a way society would stereotypically ascribe to women.

His British Accent, at least from an American point of view, already marks his sexuality as ambiguous. This is not helped by the fact that he speaks in an abnormally posh way, alienating himself from the common people.Hereby, the movies draw a well-established line between decadence/queer and pragmatic/heteronormative.

In the “Aftermath” trilogy Brendol Hux states his son to be “weak willed” and “thin as a slip of paper and just as useless”, robbing him of his masculinity – no matter how ridiculous of an endeavour this is when talking about a four-year old boy. Hux is very early on criticised for not fitting into a socially expected form of manhood. This is especially evident when one compares him to his resistance rival, Poe Dameron. Now, Dameron has his own set of queer coding, but he is shown to be what is commonly viewed as “acceptably queer”. He is masculine, trained and proactive. When he ridicules Hux at the beginning of The Last Jedi, there is this juxtaposition of the helpless, feminine villain and the dashing, superior male hero. Hux is supposed to be judged as vain and arrogant while Poe takes risks and although reckless, is somehow to be admired. Further, Hux is constantly abused. He is thrown into walls letting out high pitched screams, runs away in the face of danger (as seen in the recent comic) and is pushed around by his own subordinates. His strength lies in being cunning and calculated, not stereotypically masculine virtues.

Hux’s destructive powers, his monstrosity so to speak, also follow a long-standing tradition of queer villainization. Harry Benshoff’s The Monster and The Homosexual articulates this as follows:

“[...] repressed by society, these socio-political and psychosexual Others are displaced (as in a nightmare) onto monstrous signifiers, in which form they return to wreak havoc […]” (Benshoff 65).

And what other, than a socio-political Other, is Armitage Hux - the Starkiller?

Kylo Ren/Ben Solo, too, is touched by the mark of queerness. It is no coincidence that despite his raw power and muscular physique, Kylo Ren has not been adopted by hegemonic masculinity in the same way Han Solo has, for example. When the logical is traditionally seen as masculine, the realms of pure and unfiltered emotionality is feminine. And Kylo Ren is unrestrained in his vulnerability, his tears, his pain – People make fun of the dramatic ways he gives words to his feelings precisely because it is regarded as weak, as whiny, as “womanly”. His long curly hair, full lips and dress-like costume only strengthens this impression. Kylo Ren is an amalgam of masculine aggression and feminine expressiveness. Some of his outbursts even remind of the pseudo-illness of hysteria. The gendered lines are blurred and unclear in Kylo Ren, diffusing any efforts to appease the binary. Benshoff describes this as a form of queer existence which does not only constitute itself in opposition to what is considered normal but “ultimately opposed the binary definitions and prescriptions of a patriarchal heterosexism” (Benshoff 63).

Both are not easily categorised. They are patched up by multiple, gendered signifyers. Kylo Ren’s masculine body in contrast to his femininized fashion. Hux’s slender body with his stiff and masculinised military get-up. Hux’s toxic tendency to avoid showing his emotions while also being shown as weak, womanly, cowardly. Kylo Ren is an excellent warrior, yet simultaneously being prone to emotional outbursts. Jeffrey Jerome Cohen’s famous work Monster Theory (Seven Theses) elaborates upon this further, while acknowledging that queer figures are most commonly depicted as the monstrous Other:

“The refusal to participate in the classificatory “order of things” is true of monsters generally: they are disturbing hybrids whose externally incoherent bodies resist attempts to include them in any systematic structuration.” (Cohen 6).

Nonetheless, many queer people feel empowered by these figures. Lee Edelman theorises in his polemic No Future: Queer Theory and the Death Drive about the nature of queerness as a force of cultural resistance. According to Edelman, the queer must always refuse societal expectations of a perpetual future and embrace the death drive instead. In this sense, queerness stands in direct opposition to futurity as it negates any meaning in sexual reproduction and marriage (cp. Edelman 13). When Hux destroys planets, when Kylo Ren proposes to burn it all down “The Empire, your Parents, the Resistance, the Sith, the Jedi”, they are not merely killing the past. They are also negating the worth of categories that make up future and present alike. They are resisting the heteronormative values of production.

Now that we have the puzzle pieces that illustrate how Hux and Kylo are queer figures in on themselves, it might be interesting to examine how they work together.

In her text “Epistemology of the Closet”, Eve Sedgwick talks about a common gothic trope where two men are caught in a feud full of mutual hatred. In this case, both men are mirror images of one another, making them especially vulnerable to the other’s advances: "[…] a male hero is in a close, usually murderous relation to another male figure, in some respects his 'double', to whom he seems to be mentally transparent."

Kylo and Hux are very clearly mirrors of one another. Aside from the gendered oppositions I have already illustrated, they are each other’s double in every sense of the word. Born on opposite ends of an age-old war. Both caught in complicated relationship with their fathers whom both have killed out of opposite motivations (loving them too much vs. hating them with a passion). They represent the opposite ends in the binaries for logic vs. spirituality, restraint vs. wildness, control vs. sensuality, technology vs. nature etc.

This shot from The Last Jedi shows both of them mirroring each other visually, henceforth strengthening this impression.

They are "mentally transparent" to each other, because they are different sides of the same coin which Snoke tossed around to his whims. Even their aggression takes on erotic forms. It is hard to deny the homoerotic implications in choking another men to make him submit, forcing him onto his knees. The breaching of personal spaces and looming over each other, the obsessive need to prove one’s own worth to the male other with which one is engaged in a homosocial bond:

“The projective mutual accusation of two mirror-image men, drawn together in a bond that renders desire indistinguishable from prédation, is the typifying gesture of paranoid knowledge.” (Sedgwick 100).

And through all of this, I have not even talked about the collaborative potential between the two of them. Their instinct to protect one another despite insiting the opposite. How both of them could overcome their trauma by engaging with the other, who suffered so similarly under family obligation and Snoke’s abuse.

Works Cited:

Benshoff, Harry: “The Monster and the Homosexual.” In: Harry Benshoff (ed. and introd.)/Sean Griffin (ed. and introd.): Queer Cinema, the Film Reader. New York: Routledge 2004. Pp. 63-74.

Cohen, Jeffrey Jerome. "Monster Culture (Seven Theses)." Jeffrey Jerome (ed. and preface) Cohen: Monster Theory: Reading Culture (1996): 3-25.

Edelman, Lee. No Future: Queer Theory and the Death Drive. ,2004. Print.

Sedgwick, Eve Kosofsky-Sedgwick. Epistemology Of the Closet. Berkeley, Calif. :University of California Press, 2008.

#Kylux #Armitage Hux #Kylo Ren #Ben Solo #General Hux #Hux #Benarmie #Kylux meta #sw #sw meta #sw analysis #tfa #tlj #long post #long text #hux comic #huxlo

[trillian-anders]

amor de mi vida - 1946

pairing: bucky barnes x latinx!reader

warnings: racism, prejudice, fluff, angst, smut

word count: 2843

description: Bucky Barnes is a sweet young Brooklyn boy, just on the cusp of manhood, a hopeless romantic that falls in love with almost every girl he sees. when he sets his eyes on a young girl fresh off the boat from Cuba he finds out how hard love can really be.

for @cake-writes 1940s challenge.

The cries of a newborn, sweet to those who no longer have one, but frustrating to those still dealing with one. 

Christmas of 1945 was a blessed Christmas. The first grandchild receiving the most presents even though the baby hadn’t even been born yet. Hand knit booties, little caps, a crib that Bucky and Steve put together and set in the corner of your bedroom. The nursery painted and nested. 

Winnie gifted you with a rocking chair. “You’ll thank me later.” She said. And it did come in handy. The gift left in the nursery soon was dragged into your bedroom, late night feedings while you rocked both you and the baby back to sleep. 

It was a long and arduous labor. Almost a year to the day Bucky had returned. The contractions started just after breakfast and labor lasted well into the next day. It was as dawn broke that his cries broke through the air for the first time. 

Your sweet little boy. 

He was laid onto your chest, wailing halting as his skin touched yours, lips smacking for the first time in open air. His little fists clenched tight. James Buchanon Barnes II, Jaime. 

His hair, eyes, and skin were yours. Everything else was his fathers. If Bucky had brown eyes they could have been twins as a baby. 

Jaime was a good baby for the most part, alert, always looking around and didn’t cry too often. But he had a lot of trouble throughout the night in the early days. 

You resented Bucky and glared at him while he slept, Jaime suckling on your raw nipples and fatigue plagued your body. 

“How can I help?” Bucky would ask. But beside changing diapers and watching him while you napped there wasn’t much else he could do. Bucky had gotten pretty good at changing a diaper with one arm. Once every two or three months Howard would have another prototype, something else for Bucky to try but had volunteered a break while the Barnes’ got settled with their new baby. 

And a sweet baby he was. 

A spoiled baby he was. 

Winnie loved taking him. George couldn’t put him down. And the girls loved passing him around and cooing as he began to babble. 

Bucky was obsessed with his son. The man cried when he was born, when you nestled his little body in the crook of Bucky’s arm. He said, “Thank you,” with tears in his eyes, he pressed his forehead against yours, “Thank you for this.” But you were thankful. Thankful for your little family. The baby you’d been craving for so long. 

The future you wanted. 

“Can I hold him?” Peggy held her hands out, letting you place Jaime into her arms. A smile stretching across her lips. “He’s gorgeous.” 

“Thank you.” You smile, brushing a curl off his forehead.

“Howard is trying to break James down into joining us.” She says, bouncing the now giggling Jaime on her knee. “James would be an incredible asset to the team” At the moment ‘us’ was only Howard, Steve, Peggy and the rest of the commandos currently enjoying their time off having returned to their families at the end of the war. 

While you were focused on Bucky the rest of the world celebrated the end of the war. Men came home, husbands, fathers, sons… reunited with their families in the wake of the utter destruction the US laid on Hiroshima. 

“They were ready to surrender,” Steve spat, the day it was announced, his jaw hasn’t been unclenced since. “It was unnecessary.” The US did the one thing he hated, became a bully. He felt disrespected by it. Like he just went and fought to defend the helpless, take down an international crime syndicate in the name of justice, only to come home and have the United States act on a grudge. 

He now manned the small grill in your new backyard. “The kid needs a backyard.” Bucky claimed. It probably had little or nothing to do with the fact that he was a disabled war vet who was married to a Cuban woman and the stares he’d been getting pushing the pram around were starting to grate his nerves. It was in a cute little suburb outside of the city, still close enough that you could continue with dress orders and he could help George with the shop when he needed it, but far enough away that no one really knew you there. 

And no one had said anything about the two of you as a couple. Yet. 

A bottle of beer passed between the two men, while you took Jaime back into your lap. “Howard is getting close.” Peggy said, “Maybe this week.” Bucky smiled at her before turning to his son. This week maybe he’ll have his arm back. A kiss to your forehead and he scooped up the little boy from your lap, holding him tight to his chest and blowing a raspberry on his stomach. Jaime giggled and squirmed in his grip before turning his head to look back at you and cry. 

“He hates me.” Bucky sighs, the baby reaching his chubby little arms out to you. 

“He doesn’t hate you.” Jaime rests his head on your shoulder while you rub his back. His fingers gripping at your shirt. “He just loves me more.” Bucky presses his lips to yours before pressing a kiss to his son’s head of curls. 

“We need to have a girl next,” He says, “So she’ll love me more.” The entire pregnancy Bucky had been hoping for a girl. He wasn’t disappointed when you had Jaime, and he liked to spend time with him, but Jaime was definitely more attached to you. 

“I’m his food.” You laugh, “Of course he wants me more.” 

“He’s a mama’s boy.” Bucky jibed. “I want a daddy’s girl.” Steve laid out the burgers on the table, taking his seat across from Peggy. 

“Have you thought any more about it Buck?” You settled Jaime into the wooden highchair at the end of the picnic table and Bucky began to give him little pieces of squished blueberries which Jamie seemed content to play with. 

“I’m just not sure I want to be that far from my family.” He says. “We’ll talk later.” And it was always later. He didn’t want to talk about it in front of you. The danger that the missions had. You rested a hand over your belly, Jaime just learning to eat soft foods and you were already pregnant with baby number two. It was another reason why you’d agreed to move out of the city. 

“I could always go back to working for my Pa.” He’d say while you’re getting ready for bed. “Once Howard finishes my new arm.” He’d gotten pretty good at surviving without one though. He could do pretty much everything he could do before, within reason. 

“But would you be happy doing that?” You asked. Jamie was sleeping in the room beside yours, trying something new now that he was sleeping through the night. “Would you be happy to settle for going back to work at the shop?” You knew what his answer would be. He’s been following Steve since they were kids, protecting him, making sure he was safe. “Would you be able to let him go out there alone?” 

“He wouldn’t be alone.” Bucky argued. But he knew what you meant. He stepped behind you at the vanity, squatting down to wrap an arm around your middle, splaying his hand wide over your growing belly. Your first pregnancy you hadn’t started showing until you were four or five months, but this one seemed to sprout right away. “But you would be.” You sigh and lean back against him, meeting his eyes in the mirror. 

“I want you to be happy.” 

“I am happy.”

The house was white, with powder blue shutters. The porch was large and Bucky recently hung a porch swing with the help of Steve. Together they put up floral wallpaper and carried in boxes, setting up your home while you held the still newborn Jaime. 

Now it was well lived in and not suitable for company most of the time, but it was your home. And you told Bucky you weren’t going to move again if you couldn’t help it. The big surprise was the spare bedroom he’d made into a sewing space for you. Your Mother’s old sewing machine, a place to organize fabrics, buttons, and thread. 

You were finishing dress orders every day, but it was becoming a little too much. 

“Why don’t you ask some of the girls to help you?” Bucky was talking about the girls from the factory, not all of them completely abandoned you when you married him, but you know some had started families of their own. He was holding your son, Jamie playing with a scrap of tulle that was shimmering in the sunlight. “You’re not going to be able to keep this up much longer, mi amor.” He was right, your back aches and your belly was growing every day. Soon you’d have two babies and it just wasn’t going to be possible. Especially if Bucky went back to work. 

So you outsourced. 

Two girls, friends you hadn’t talked to in a while agreed to help. Amara and Rosalyn. ‘Friends’ who had always been very close from what you’d seen. The girls still worked at the factory, but with the dress orders you had it would give them significant income. You were currently making $50 a week selling these dresses, but with the two of them you could do three times the work, $150 a week, with both of them getting 15% was good money. They couldn’t say no. 

With that kind of money coming in, “You wouldn’t have to work if you don’t want to.” Bucky wasn’t having it. “I’m making $105 a week with these.” A kiss to his palm. 

“I want to work again.” He says, “I want to help provide for our family.” 

The new arm was a little heavy, “But that will get modified over time.” Howard claimed. It was metal and cuffed around his upper arm. His shoulder was sore from the initial nerve connection, but stayed always a little stiff because of the weight of the arm. 

The first week or so a lot of dishes were broken, doors pulled off their hinges, and Bucky was refusing to hold Jaime. Something that he didn’t realize Jaime would have such a problem with. The sweet little boy crying and fussing, reaching out for his father but Bucky wouldn’t do any more but rub his back or kiss him before bed, 

“Not until I get this arm figured out.” He didn’t want to hurt him. Which was something you could understand, but your 6 month old baby could not. Jaime seemed to go backwards, waking up in the middle of the night wailing, unable to sleep. Crying uncontrollably no matter what you did. It wasn’t until Bucky stopped breaking things around the house, when he practiced fine motor skills with Howard, did he feel comfortable enough to finally soothe your son. 

Your body woke up on its own. Startled out of sleep by the silence, you’d been expecting Jamie to wake you up like he had been every night before but he was quiet. The house was quiet. Your hand brushes against the empty sheets, still warm from where Bucky’s body had once lay. 

You find him in the nursery, the shining metal arm beneath Jaime’s butt, the small boy lay on his chest. Skin to skin. His right palm splayed on his son’s back, rocking him back to sleep in the rocking chair you definitely thanked Winnie for, multiple times. 

His eyes were closed, his head leaned back against the chair. A pile of drool on his chest from where Jaime’s mouth was open. You sigh, placing a hand on your belly and leaning against the doorway of the bedroom. It was a relief. 

You admired the two of them for a minute, rubbing your belly and feeling the little movements of the baby still inside you and for a moment, not for the first time since finding out you were pregnant, did you wish your Mother was still alive. 

There was a bit of grief in that moment, knowing how much she would have loved having grandchildren. How she would have doted on them. Maybe if this baby was a girl you could name her after her grandmother. 

Steve showed up a few nights after that, fully geared up in a suit you hadn’t seen. One like the suit he wore in the films, but more muted. Something easier to get by in, and a duffel next to him. 

“I can’t leave her Steve.” A whisper in the hallway. The duffel dropped on the floor. 

“I need your help with this pal.” Steve replied, “You know I hate to ask, but I need you.” You step out into the front hall, your husband’s back blocking out most of Steve. 

“What’s wrong?” Your back hurt like hell, breasts heavy with milk for the feeding you knew Jaime would want soon. Feet swollen in early third trimester. Bucky sighed and turned to you with a smile, 

“Nothing sweetheart, go get ready for bed. I’ll be up in a minute.” Your eyes met Steve’s and his face was serious, brow pulled tight, jaw clenched. 

“Steve?” You step further towards them, “Is it serious?” A curt nod. 

“I wouldn’t ask him to come...” You nod, looking back at your husband. His fists clenched at his sides. 

“You should go.” His face falls, 

“But dahlin, I can’t leave you here alone.” 

“I won’t be alone.” You soothe, “I’ll call your Mother in the morning, I’m sure she’ll be happy to stay with me for a few days.” You didn’t want him to go, not really. But Steve was never gone for more than a week, and you could tell how badly Bucky wanted to go. There was something in him that needed to follow Steve, every time Steve left on a mission Bucky would be anxious and couldn’t focus on anything. The worry. 

“He just rushes into things,” Bucky explained once, “He wasn’t particularly good at making plans.” Which was true, but most of that was left to Peggy. 

“You want to help him,” Bucky wrapped his arms around your waist, “So help him.” A soft, languid kiss. 

“Are you sure?” He searches your eyes for the truth and you meet his lips again in reassurance.

“I’m sure, just, when you’re done, come home.” He nods, leaning his forehead on yours for a moment before looking at Steve. 

“Let me go see Jaime and I’ll be right out.” 

The first time he came back it was frightening, all the bruises. A gash in his side hastily stitched, but healed within a matter of days. It wasn’t easy seeing him go each time, albeit not often did he go, but the reunion of him coming back was heated and passionate. 

Rushed kisses and his hands curled into your hair. The pleasure in having both arms so he could do everything he wanted to, but couldn’t before. Fingers in your mouth pressing down on your tongue while cool metal digits strummed pleasure under your skirt and stuffed into your panties while Jaime napped. 

Both hips held for leverage while he was buried inside you in the only way you could get comfortable, grinding against your pussy to make you cum quickly before the both of you left the bed to start your day. 

He whispers into your neck, moaning as he held you over the washing machine, his hips slapping against yours in a steady pace, “I told you I would take care of you.” A whimper from your lips, “I’ll always take care of you.” Fingers laced in yours on the table top over the laundry, his hand met your chin, turning your mouth to meet his as you came, moaning into his mouth. 

He was almost his old self once he started going back out on missions. The anger of last year faded into dark moments and restless sleep. Some nights he wasn’t able to sleep at all, but the resentment you felt when you’d been awake with the baby was washed down with the fact that he needed every good night he could. 

After the incident in the old house, the bruise on your arm was the only memory for weeks after, he’d never taken his anger out on you again. He’d gone back to boxing, a hobby in his teen years, an outlet for the anger and trauma he’d experienced out in the field. 

Now that he was working with Howard, Steve, and Peggy, he was training a lot more. The muscles in his arms and legs are more defined, his soft belly tighter. 

And he was happy. Truly happy, for the first time in a long time. 

.

.

.

taglist //  @corneliabarnes @bookish-shristi @saturnki @jennmurawski13 @geeksareunique @albinotigerpython @cake-writes @iheartsebastianstan @000bananaclip000 @shadowbuisness​ @sprinkleofbooty @gifsbysimplysonia @vhsbarnes @loseralert @wendaiii @mcueveryday @alwaysbenhardysgirl @beck-alicious  @thefandomzoneisdangerous

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes #1940s!bucky barnes #1940s au #captain america #steve rogers #sebastian stan #peggy carter #howard stark

[demonkidpliz]

Things I learned while re-watching Star Plus Mahabharata (Part 16/many):

1) As ever with Duryodhan, I cannot disagree with anything he says.

2) Oh god. This scene. Panchali’s curse. Her walking away as Arjun looks on. Gold.

3) Not sure I like this new version of Krishna seekh.

4) Also we have not seen Krishna fight once in this battle of Dwarka vs the King of Shalva.

5) I also don’t like crying Krishna. Not saying he can’t. But I can’t take him seriously when he cries. I need him to be infinitely more chill than SRJ is being right now.

6) Ah, Arjun swearing at the Kurus. A+ 10/10.

7) Oh my fucking god, Subhadra’s opening line to Arjun: how could you let this happen? I expect nothing less from her.

8) Madhav is back now, after chilling in his war. He’s still in a self-driven chariot.

9) Wow, he’s so pissed at the Pandavas and rightfully so.

10) Draupadi telling Krishna that she’s become impure. And anyone who comes near her would also become impure. No. NO. Every woman in the world knows this feeling.

11) Okay, first of all, Krishna, you moonlighting feminist, the first thing you should tell Draupadi is that she has not become malin because of what Duryodhana and Dushasan did. This is on them, not on her. I cannot but compare StarBharat with BR Chopra Mahabharat, the comparisons come very easily to me. And the truth is, they just did some things better.

12) Draupadi’s now fallen at his feet. Krishna is just like, Lord give me strength.

13) This scene is important because I feel like for once Krishna is putting his grand plans on hold for one second to give Draupadi back her peace of mind. Because first and foremost, the Lord is kind to those who follow him.

14) It’s so nice that StarBharat has shown this sort of sisterly solidarity between Draupadi and Subhadra, which is so important.

15) Draupadi is not even remotely impressed by Yudhishthira’s theatrics.

16) Draupadi’s pratigya makes her sound like Bhishma. Intentional or unintentional.

17) I cannot imagine Subhadra watching idly by as the Pandavas and Draupadi walk to the forest. I’m sure she put up a fight against her brothers to be allowed to go.

18) Speaking of, where is Balaram in all of this? His cousins are heading for vanvas and he is still chilling in Dwarka? Unrealistic.

19) Oh nice, Abhimanyu hasn’t even been born yet but somehow Krishna has managed to name him.

20) That scene where Arjun stops Subhadra from touching his feet. Some of StarBharat’s dialogueless scenes are just as touching.

21) Krishna’s glare as Shakuni enters the Indraprastha palace lmaoo.

22) A well executed scene but the watering hole scene happens only towards the end of the 12-year vanvas period.

23) This is hilarious. Yudhishthira is basically like Krishna is going to whoop my ass if I let something else happen to Panchali.

24) Oh god. Everyone loves Arjun the most. But I think Yudhishthira loves Bhim the most.

25) It’s time for Yudhishthira to meet his bio daddy!

26) Arjun doing tapasya for Shiv is my jam.

27) Bhim is such a cutie.

28) This Hanuman story is different though, right? Something to do with some lotus for Draupadi.

29) Is Hanuman a Yadav? He wears the same tilak. Or is this some Ram/Krishna connection we don’t quite know about.

30) I love Hanuman’s character! He’s so playful. And also the Hanuman Chalisa in the background score.

31) Oh so Hanuman knows that Krishna is Ram/Vishnu avatar and says he will chill on the chariot that’s being manned by God.

32) Oh no they never told us about the magic bowl Draupadi had that was gifted to her by Surya Dev which gave them unlimited food.

33) Also, do the Pandavas and Karna ever realise that they are all ‘gifts’ of Durvasa.

34) Krishna creeping in the background like some mega creep 😂

35) This is a conversation for another time but some day we need to talk about the incessant whitewashing of our gods such as Ram and Krishna in modern mythological serials. Also of Draupadi/Dhrishtadyumna/Arjun—basically anyone who’s described in canon as dark. There is some modern fetish for fair-skinned gods that just doesn’t sit right. I miss the dark-skinned Aruns and Nitishs.

36) Durvasa is still not impressed by Krishna. This man is literally god.

37) Arjun is fishing.

38) Oh nice, Indra is also here. Old gods and new.

39) Not sure whether I like this Shiv. Shiv in general I love.

40) Aaaand Jayadrath is here. Can’t wait for this guy to die in tomorrow’s BR Chopra Mahabharat episode.

41) Duryodhan low key throwing shade at Jayadrath is my jam.

42) Really, what does Dushala see in this man?

43) Kaun ho tum? Really? Draupadi doesn’t know her own brother-in-law? That seems highly unlikely.

44) Why is Arjun wasting time with all this trash talk?

45) Arjun is having a lot of second thoughts about keeping Jayadrath alive for Dushala’s sake but this is going to change very quickly during the war. Also Nakul rightfully points out that this man will give grief to Arjun later on.

46) This is by far the worst and most inaccurate map of Aryavarta to ever exist.

47) Oh no Jayadrath’s hair makeup is so not on point at this moment.

48) Mamashri Shakuni is literally fortune telling at this point and this is my jam.

49) So it’s canon that both Shakuni and Krishna are Slytherins, right? Yet they are the two most diametrically opposite Slytherins we have ever seen.

50) Also I want to see Dushala but these shows never give me what I want. When I make the Mahabharata I will make sure the women get equal and opposite screen time and character development as the men.

51) Yudhishthira is getting on my nerves.

52) This Draupadi is infinitely nicer than BR Chopra Mahabharat’s Roopa Ganguli who used to give it to her husbands every opportunity she got.

53) I also have lots of complaints. They didn’t show Dhrishtadyumna taking Draupadi’s sons home to Panchal to raise them.

54) They didn’t show Arjun chilling with his bio dad in heaven! They didn’t show Urvashi hitting on him and him rejecting her advances! Then she curses him, causing him to lose his manhood. And then she reverses the curse after Indra begs her and she limits it to lost manhood for one year of his choosing. That’s how Arjun uses the Brihannala guise for a year during agyaatvaas!

55) Shakuni training himself to think like Krishna. Looool.

56) Nakul bullying children is my jam.

57) Clearly this sattoo ke laddoo business is some sort of secret code amongst the Pandavas.

58) At least Uttar and Uttara are aptly shown as young teenagers.

59) My fav is back! Brihannala! 😍

60) Also what is this face covering nonsense by Sairindhri?! Women in the Later Vedic Age did not cover their faces or their heads behind purdah!!!

61) The Pandavas meeting together after a long time is giving me hope! This is what it’s going to be like when lockdown is over and I meet my friends 😭😭😭

62) This Keechak guy looks evil but I can’t take him seriously because his voice makes him sound like a prepubescent boy.

63) What is this casual classism from Keechak? Like Jesus, what a dirtbag.

64) Again there was no ghunghat back in those days?!?!

65) But iss Keechak ne toh consent ki maa behen kar di.

66) How happy the Pandavas are to see Panchali! Arjun the most, perhaps 😍

67) Virat making a dig at Dushasan. I’m here for this tea.

68) I can’t take Keechak seriously because of his voice.

69) This logic whereby if Draupadi has five husbands so she can have one more—like I will never understand this! She consented to five and no more???

70) Brihannala, my one true fav, is back!

71) Keechak vadh is my favourite episode, behind Shishupal vadh and Jayadrath vadh. Do you see the pattern?

72) Why is Draupadi here? I wanted to see Bhim’s giant form hidden as a lump under a blanket, enticing Keechak.

73) Bhim is here! 😍 Seriously, no one loves Panchali as much as Bhim does. Arjun toh is smitten by our Yadav homegirl.

74) Now Arjun is going to do his tandav dance. This should distract the others from the noise nicely.

75) Oh nice. Nakul and Sahadev are also participating.

76) Predictably, Jyesth Bhrata, Yudhishthira, is not invited to this Keechak vadh party.

77) King Virat is like oh no what a loss.

78) Yudhishthira looks pissed, as always, when his brothers have done something good.

79) Haha. Duryodhan has caught on to the fact that Bhishma is trying desperately to stall so that the Pandavas are not found out.

81) Now Duryodhan is now accusing Vidur of partiality. Again, he is not wrong. I’m so impressed by how well his character has been written. Not one word he says is incorrect.

82) Nice. Duryodhan has his father wrapped around his little finger. He knows exactly how to manipulate him so that Dhritarashtra rises to the bait.

83) After all these centuries Bhishma realises that Shakuni is after the destruction of Hastinapur.

84) Shakuni is admitting now that all of this is revenge for Gandhari. Oh man. Do you think Bhishma knew that the Mahabharat was the result of his poorly executed actions (intentional or otherwise)?

85) King Virat is so smart. I like him. I’m going to be so sad when he dies.

86) Brihannala is going to stay behind. Great. It’s so interesting to see this story in retrospect (which is how it’s told to Janamajeya and Vajra) in the first place.

87) I like Virat with open hair.

88) What the hell is this? I cannot be attracted to Pitamaha Bhishma and Mama Shakuni with their open hair and battle armour?! Adharm!

89) Oh what a cool sundial!

90) I’m glad they showed Uttar as nothing more than a teenager.

91) Mama Shakuni is so fit.

92) Do you think Bhishma recognises Arjun as Uttar’s chariot?

93) Poor Uttar is probably shitting his pants.

94) Arjun praying to Agni Dev to return his Gandiv. Old gods to the rescue.

95) This background score! It’s my absolute favourite! Parthasya Dhananjaya! My fav song on my fav, Arjun 😍

96) Bhishma looks thoroughly pleased. He recognises the sound of the Gandiv’s twang.

97) Now they will fight about the authenticity of the calendar. They should go to a calendar expert.

98) Bhishma looks proper chuffed at Arjun. How on earth will they fight against each other in the Great War?

99) Oh man, Karna is here. Ugh.

100) Karna is here to trash talk as per usual. Oh god both these men are useless. Fight no instead of talking so much.

101) Oh man, the charioteer’s son has been thrown from his chariot but not before taking a shot at Arjun.

102) Ah Karna’s divine armour makes an appearance!

103) Oh shit, this just got real! They’re calling on divine weapons!

104) Bhishma steps in. Of course.

105) Duryodhan’s hah! 😂😂

106) Arjun crying that if he is responsible for Bhishma’s death, it will be hell on earth for him. Oh, Arjun. You must still suffer, a lot.

107) Arjun’s threat, that all the Pandavas will come to avenge Draupadi’s insult. Yes. 100%. I hope in this yug even if men are not punished for their crimes against women on earth, they will suffer forever in hell for their misdeeds.

108) The Pandavas and Draupadi are ready. It’s time for the Great War. It’s time for Mahabharat.

#mahabharata #mahbharat #starbharat #siwt #starbharat recap

[pulpwriterx]

A SHEEP AS BLACK AS MIDNIGHT IN SPACE

It is a dark time for the Galaxy. General Enric Pryde and Supreme Leader Snoke have unleashed a reign of terror, dealing the New Republic a terrible blow with the Hosnian Cataclysm. But all is not lost. General Organa has discovered a New Hope from the desert of Jakku, who will become the Last Jedi. After Rey, Han Solo, Chewbacca, Poe Dameron and Finn, the former FN2187 undertook a daring raid that led to the destruction of Starkiller Base, Rey has gone to Ahch-To, to study under the reclusive Jedi Master Luke Skywalker. And he will tell her a secret. There is another.

I: THERE IS ANOTHER.

Luke Skywalker sighed, heavily.

“Master Luke, what is it? What’s wrong?”

“I destroyed my own family, Rey. And the Galaxy is paying the price. Did you ever wonder why Han and Leia don’t live together? Why I’m in exile, here? There is another. Or at least, there was. My nephew. My paduan. The best and worst student at the Jedi Temple. Ben Solo.”

“Ben Solo! Didn’t he die at the Jedi Temple?”

“In a way, he did. He doesn’t use that name, anymore.”

“Then he’s alive? Do you know what happened to him?”

“A great many things. First? There were his mother's expectations. She had his whole life planned out. His Royal Highness, Prince Benjamin Skywalker Organa-Solo. He was going to be the perfect Jedi, the perfect young leader, the perfect fair-haired son of the New Republic. He wasn’t supposed to be a giant behemoth of a man, who was too much like his father and his grandfather to fit in any mold. Han and I pretty much figured that Big Ben was going his own way by the time he was six. His hair was down to his waist, and he’d scream and break the scissors with the Force if you came near him to cut his hair. He wouldn’t wear clothes. Just a pair of underwear, if you took him out. He wanted to be a Wookiee. He wouldn’t speak Basic. Just Shriiyywook. We worked it out. But Ben never really changed.”

Luke sighed.

“As he grew to manhood, I started seeing my nephew as a monster. His obsession with his own duality, and that of his grandfather. His heretical leanings toward the Grey Path. And his vows? Forget vows. Not my nephew, the king of taboo. Jedi are supposed to take vows of chastity, and honesty. To have control over their emotions. Ben sold cigarillos, wine, and rubbers from his father’s smuggling operation out of my father’s TIE Fighter, his personal vehicle. He lost his virginity when he was 14 to his best friend, Talia who was 13. As usual? Han was the best worst father, ever. He took her to get an implant, and kept Ben supplied with rubbers. Which he needed, because any of my female students who were curious about their resident Rebel Angel? Let’s just say, Ben never failed to satisfy their curiosity. He didn’t listen to me when I tried to stop him. He really thought he meant something to these girls. After all, they meant something to him. It took Talia telling him she was going to rent him by the hour out of her Wookiee foster father’s garage in Mos Eisley, because he laid more pipe to more satisfied customers than any spaceport gigolo. I mean, how do you teach a six and a half foot tall Force of nature who has been using the Force since he was a toddler in a crib to open the cupboard and get the cookies?”

“He likes cookies?”

“Ben? He eats like a Wookiee. Literally. Chewie taught him to cook.”

“But he likes cookies?”

“Eats them by the box."

Master Luke laughed.

“Now I see that all of it was so very minor. I used to get so angry with him about the TIE Fighter, and the smuggling, and Talia, and the other girls. He didn’t trust me to tell me how the Dark Side, how Snoke was stalking him. It had been a terrible day, for Ben. I disciplined his little group of girls, and all four of them blamed everything on him. Not Talia, though. She spoke up for Ben. But the other three girls? They didn’t take his side. They gave him up. He sat in his hut and cried, all day. He really cared. He did. The poor kid cried himself to sleep. I went to check on him, that night and I felt the Dark Side all around him. While he was sleeping. I thought he had given himself over to it. I attacked. I almost cut off his head, but Ben defended himself. He blocked my lightsaber with his and punched me in the face as hard as he could. If I wasn’t a Jedi Master who can anticipate my opponent's movements. It would have broken my neck. But he didn't mean to kill me. Ben was just scared. As it was, I was unconscious until the morning. By then? It was all over."

Rey couldn’t believe the enormity of the act that he had just admitted to.

Trying to murder his own paduan, his own nephew!

“What happened to your nephew after he brought the building down on you? Did he join the Dark Side.”

“No. He packed up his gear and walked ten miles to the spaceport, and made it there by morning. He left Yavin 4 on a Mandalorian freighter with a business associate of his father’s, Din Saxon, under an assumed name that he had identity papers for. Now he’s partners with Rotta the Hutt, Jabba’s son, Din Saxon, the Mandalorian, and Han Solo. They revived the old Galactic Black Market, and now there’s a war on, not only are they making a fortune? They’re the only game in town for a lot of little things that people find it hard to live without. They do sell arms and coaxium to both sides, but they only sell the low-grade junk to the First Order and at three times the price they sell to the Resistance. I hear that Ben’s doing well. He hasn’t realized his ambition to meet the girl the Force has bound him to, but he still has his friend, Talia. I trained her as a Jedi Healer, and she's since gone to the Republic Medical School. She's Ben's personal doctor. As reckless as he is? He needs to travel with a farkling doctor. Pardon my language. The point is, my nephew renounced the Jedi and the Sith, the Dark and the Light, that day. He wants no part of it. He follows the Grey Path. As it was laid out by Master Qui-Gon Jinn. He also wants no part of this war. His name is Ben Solo, but the name he does business under, the name you’ll have heard of is his alias. Kylo Skywalker. The Arkanian.”

“Ben Solo is Kylo Skywalker, the Arkanian?”

“Yes. And he and Han are looking to add a good scavenger to their operation, because Kylo just bought the salvage rights to the site of the Battle of Yavin-4. And he’s the new owner of the ruins of the Second Death Star. You were the best scavenger at Niima Outpost. I’m sure you're the woman for the job.”

***

Kylo Skywalker was truly a man larger than life.

He wore a black oilskin duster, caped and hooded, festooned with grommets, pockets, and epaulets over a black pair of pilot’s coveralls, tucked into tall black jackboots.

He also wore a huge pair of brown leather and Beskar chrome goggles, with shatterproof mirrored lenses.

And he was the tallest, burliest man that Rey had ever seen.

He sat down across from her at the table she had picked out at the Niima Cantina.

The man had a quiet air of undeniable menace about him.

It put Rey on edge.

“You should try to hide that you have that much strength in the Force. The Sith are real, and the First Order take who they want.”

“Not if I work for you, Jedi Temple dropout, right?"

“I picked a good time to leave. I hear you're the best scavenger at Niima Outpost.”

“I am. Can you take those goggles off? I feel like I’m talking to a man with no eyes.”

He lowered his hood, and took off the goggles.

Time stopped.

And it wasn’t just because Kylo Skywalker the man had grown up to be a black swan with dark, saturnine good looks out of the ugly duckling of a boy that Master Luke had described to her.

It was because Rey was fairly sure it was him.

The man with whom she had shared a bond in the Force, for as long as she could remember.

She never knew his face, or his name, but now that she saw him, she somehow recognized him.

“It’s OK. I feel it, too. The Force brings people together for all kinds of reasons. Look at it this way? Now you’re sure to get the job. You’re hired, Rey…”

Rey shrugged.

“Just Rey. My parents left me when I was a little girl. I never got a last name. I don’t have identity papers, either.”

“That’s OK. I can get you some, if you need them.”

The doors opened.

Rey was excited to see Han and Chewie, again.

Kylo laughed.

He had a beautiful smile.

“My father. And my godfather. But you knew that, because my Uncle sent you here to recruit me. But I get the feeling you might decide to stick with me and the Old Man, instead. Keep that quiet, though.”

Han and Chewbacca sat down.

“She really is a scavenger. A friend of Poe’s. He got her into this mess. I got her out of it. So, you hired her, right, junior?”

“I hired her.”

“How you been, princess? You don’t look so good.” Han asked.

“You can tell us. I used to be you, after all. The Galaxy’s only hope.” Kylo joked.

“It was awful, mostly. Really awful. Master Luke was nothing like I thought he would be. Sometimes, he was very kind. But sad. As if he forgot that he was supposed to be terrible. But some of the things he taught me just confused me. Or scared me. I’m afraid of myself, now. What I might do.” Rey admitted.

“Forget it. Forget everything he taught you. It’s meaningless. The Force has no Dark Side, and no light. That dualistic nerfshit thinking? People made that up. As an excuse to control each other. And make war. You shouldn’t be afraid of what you’ll do, like it’s not up to you. You make your own destiny, Rey. Look at me. I made mine. I’m no Jedi. And I’m no Sith. There is another way. The Grey Path. I can teach it to you, if you want. Think it over. But as for all that poison Uncle Luke poured into your ears? Look what it did to him. Forget it.” Kylo advised her.

“Sounds like Luke is in bad shape, junior.” Han mentioned.

Casually.

“When Rey reports back to him? We’ll send him some supplies.” Kylo said.

“Rey, do you really want to be a Jedi?” Han asked her.

Nobody had asked her that, yet.

“I don’t know.”

“Well, try working with us for awhile. If you don’t want to go back? I won’t send you. I learned my lesson on that. With junior, here. Even after that Snoke bastard burned the Temple, Luke tried to get me to send my kid back to him, one more time. I said no. Since then, I get to visit my wife, but we don’t live together. And the kid and her aren’t on good terms. But Ben’s alive, and doing good, and the Sith and the First Order didn’t get him. It’s worth it. Don’t go back if you don’t want to. Let ‘em have their farkling war, without you. Fuck ‘m.” Han told her.

Kylo raised his pitcher.

“Dark side? Light side? Fuck it. My side.” He said.

He motioned to the Rodian barman.

“Rey works for me and Solo, now. If there’s trouble with her? You’ve got trouble with all of us.”

“I never had trouble with Rey. You made a good choice, Rey. These guys are the real deal. Order what you want, kiddo. The Arkanian has deep pockets. The deepest in the Galaxy.”

Rey was very hungry.

She ordered a lot of food, and a cheap half bottle of red wine.

“Don’t bring her the cheap stuff.” Kylo told the Rodian.

“Why are you so rich, Kylo?” Rey asked.

“He gets dressed up like another Darth Vader. Red lightsaber and all. And we raid First Order ships with full cargo holds. Or Crimson Dawn freighters. Sometimes First Order warehouses and depots. All he has to do is show up and…say it, Vader junior. Say your thing.” Han suggested.

“I am Kylo Skywalker, Lord Vader. All of this belongs to me. Surrender to me all that I ask for. Or you will die. Quickly! I find your lack of haste disturbing.”

Rey shivered.

But, much to her shame, not entirely in fear.

“That’s why I call him junior. Because I ain’t calling him Kylo. I didn’t name him Kylo. You should see these assholes give up. They usually just kneel and grovel. Sometimes, we have to get tough? But most of the time? It’s all money, it’s all for the taking, and it’s all ours.” Han explained.

“I also liberate Stormtroopers. Snoke takes them from their families, when they are children. And he brainwashed, humiliates, tortures, and enslaves them. The First Order takes their faces and their names, and makes them kill. For Snoke. It’s what he did to me. It’s what he meant for me. I didn’t deserve to live that way. No one does.” Kylo added.

“What happens to them?”

“If they have a home to go to? I help them return to it. Or find a job. Some of them work for me. They are my people, I am their Chieftain. No one else cares about them. Not my mother. Not the Resistance. Not the New Republic. I care.” Kylo told her.

Rey nodded.

The idea that Darth Vader’s grandson, the Galaxy’s only Grey Jedi Master, a ruthless pirate with unlimited money, was the self-styled Arkanian-style Clan Chieftain of a small army of loyalists with military training was a little unsettling.

And that’s why the General wants him. She wants not just her son, but his people, and the influence he has over not just them, but potentially the First Order.

When Rey thought that, Kylo turned to her.

“The Old Man and I are dangerous, ruthless men. But compared to my mother? We’re baby Ewoks.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Han agreed.

And just like that, Rey was working for the Outer Rim Cartel.

Her food and wine showed up.

“So, junior, I talked to the guy? The guy about identity papers for Rey. You object to her being a Solo?”

Kylo smiled at Rey in a way that let her know she wasn’t the only one thinking what she was thinking.

“As long as she isn’t supposed to be my sister? It’s fine by me.” Kylo replied.

"Nah. It says I'm her legal guardian until she's 21. So, that way, nobody can steal you, from me, Rey. I also put you down as Junior's common law wife. Then, after you're 21? Nobody can steal you from him. Considering the way you two keep looking at each other? I figure you don't mind."

"So, this is my wedding night?" Kylo asked

"Watch it, kid. They're just papers. It's not like I bought her from Unkar Plutt and I'm giving her to you."

"Yes, Kylo. This is our wedding night." Rey told him.

Chewbacca made a comment.

"It was not fast, Chewie. Rey is her. The girl of Ben's dreams. It's the Thunderbolt. Didn't you know, when you first met Mala, that she was the one for you?"

Chewie said something about how he wasn't talking about that kind of knowing.

"Yeah, well, it's none of our business. They're probably just kidding around. Come on, old pal. Let's not be the extra dicks at the wedding."

Han got up.

Chewie said something, sternly, to Ben that Rey didn't understand, and Ben replied earnestly.

Rey decided she was going to have to learn better Shriyyywook.

After Han and Chewie left, Ben opened the bottle of wine.

"Since we've suddenly found ourselves married? I should make you some kind of vow. Think about the loneliness you felt on this desert, Rey. The longing for someone, something to come for you. Think about it, and let it go. Because you'll never be that alone, again." He told her.

"You have nothing to worry about, Ben. You're every bit as strong as Darth Vader. And just as much a man as Han Solo. You may think you're the ugly duckling. But you've transformed into a beautiful black swan. What happens, now?"

"We'll eat our dinner, and drink this bottle of vintage Corellian red. And then? We'll start doing whatever the fuck we want. And we'll keep doing whatever the fuck we want, until death comes for us. And the son of a bitch is going to have to sneak up on me."

Kylo poured two glasses of wine.

Rey began to think this might really be where she was meant to be, after all.

Happy fanfiction day!

#reylo #ben solo lives #ben solo smuggler #reylo au #reylo romance #tros fix it #han solo lives #rey x kylo ren #reylo fanfic

[raendown]

Pairing: MadaraTobirama Word count: 4747 Chapter: 37/42 Summary: Not all wars are fought on the battlefield. Some are fought at the conference table, with whispers in the shadows, or even in the bedroom.

In a world where the Senju and Uchiha traditional lands were too far apart to have ever made them enemies, Butsuma and Tajima are the ones who come together and sign a treaty of peace. Madara isn’t happy to have his life signed away for him in a political marriage to strengthen the bond between their clans. He is even less happy to have Tobirama make assumptions of him from their very first night together. What follows from there is a journey of healing, of learning, and finding the places to belong in the places least expected.

Follow the link or read it under the cut!

KO-FI and commission info in the header!

Chapter 37

“I’m bored.”

Tobirama lifted his gaze from the book he’d been lost in for the past – actually he wasn’t sure how much time had passed. He found his husband staring back at him with a baleful glare and crossed arms, hunched deeply in to the opposite end of the couch and knees bent to dig his toes in between the cushions they both sat on, thick socks disappearing under the wrappings around his calves.

“Are you sure you’re not just cold?”

“Of course I’m cold! Stupid weather taking a stupid dip. If it gets any colder it won’t need to snow because the air will just freeze on its own!”

Rather than point out the ridiculousness of that statement from a scientific viewpoint Tobirama set his book aside with deliberate movements and reached down between them to free his husband’s feet. Ignoring all protests he drew them in to his lap and curled both of his hands around the chilly toes he could feel even through such thick woolen cloth.

“If you moved around a bit instead of sitting still I’m sure you’d feel warmer,” he suggested. Madara turned his head aside to stick his nose in the air.

“Yeah, well, you’re over here. So.”

“So?”

“So shut up! Maybe I don’t want to move around!”

Tobirama smiled and closed his hands a little tighter when he felt the toes in his grasp wriggling a little. Most people probably thought him to have a cooler body temperature, what with his affinity for water, but he’d found over the years that he weathered the cold much better than most perhaps because of that. Sharing a bit of his body heat wasn’t a massive hardship really. And if it gave Madara a reason to stay here at his side that was all the better.

Not, apparently, that the man needed any more excuses. He seemed prepared to hang around even without thinking of any sort of good reason to and Tobirama was pretty okay with that.

“Would you perhaps like to do something together?” He was polite enough not to laugh when Madara perked up, tensing in that way that said he’d been offered exactly what he wanted but wasn’t ready to admit he wanted it in the first place.

“It would have to be something fun. And something that would actually keep us warm, not just strolling around the marketplace. Or drinking. Hashirama's suggestion is always drinking.”

“Yes and have I recently expressed my gratitude that you deny him?” Tobirama shuddered. One drunken escapade per year was plenty for him. He was the last person who would ever think to tell someone else what they were allowed to do with their body and their time but the thought of Madara crawling in to their bed smelling of a brewery the way he knew he must have the night he did the same, it was not a pleasant one. He found himself awash with gratitude all over again that Madara had taken care of him so well the next day.

Grumbling indistinctly under his breath, Madara took his feet back so he could sit up properly and gaze out the window. “I don’t really want to go outside,” he said, “but I would if we could spar. That’d certainly keep us moving around enough to stay warm – and we can always dress in layers.”

“If we have a proper spar with chakra you’ll be warm from the first jutsu. Or have you forgotten your own element?”

For a moment Tobirama smirked thinking the dumbfounded expression on the other’s face was a reaction to his comment. It took another look for him to see the slowly building light in the dark eyes he loved so much. That was a look he knew well, though it didn’t always spell good news for everyone around them and sometimes it meant he needed to duck and cover right quick.

“We’re married,” Madara blurted and Tobirama paused.

“Yes,” he agreed slowly. “We are.”

“So you’re an Uchiha now.”

“Mn, that’s what you tell me.” The Uchiwa fan he carried between his shoulders never felt so light as the moments when he was reminded of the easy acceptance between them now.

Leaning over to bump their shoulders together, Madara gave him a warning look before going on. “Come on, I’ve just decided how we’re going to stay warm without getting bored.”

“Oh you’ve decided, have you?”

“I have.”

“Well thank you, your highness, for making that executive decision on my behalf.”

Tobirama was already laughing before Madara glared at him and he figured he deserved the hands that bunched in his sleeves and pulled roughly on them, dragging him to his feet.

“You offered!” Madara insisted and he decided to let his husband win this one.

Since apparently he had annoyed his way out of getting to know where they were going he opted to follow Madara's lead and not add any extra layers than a jacket to ward off the chill as they marched out the door. He thought he had a pretty good idea considering which direction they were headed but Hashirama had been after him lately with the ‘innocent until proven guilty’ concept so he decided to wait before making any accusations.

Ten minutes later he smirked to know that his guess was right as they arrived at one of the exclusive Uchiha training grounds, the same one where he so often trained with Kagami. Since Madara usually preferred to use the training grounds outside the village where he and Hashirama could cause as much destruction as they wanted without terrifying the civilians Tobirama thought maybe he would have the advantage here, familiar as he was with the terrain and its uses. Between them only he would know about the softer dirt in the eastern quarter of the field and the badger holes dug in to the north sitting empty and ready to trip up unsuspecting people.

“Right, so, I know you think we’re going to spar,” Madara began and Tobirama blinked at him. Not such a good guess after all. “I’ve got something, uh, different in mind. You can use fire release.”

“I can use all five elemental releases,” Tobirama interrupted him.

“Yes we all know that, you big show off, that wasn’t my point. I was thinking…”

Tobirama valiantly held off on making some kind of distasteful joke. Clearly there was something going on in the other man’s head that he wouldn’t be able to guess at but what he could tell for sure was that it seemed oddly important and so he held his silence, waiting patiently.

“I want to teach you the Grand Fireball Jutsu.”

“What?” His jaw didn’t quite drop but it was a close call. “Isn’t that a protected clan jutsu?”

“Yes and you are a part of this clan so it’s only right that you know it.” Madara continued on despite the deep red color rising in his cheeks, ignoring the matching heat spreading over Tobirama’s entire face. “As an Uchiha you have a right to all of our clan secrets and that includes knowing our signature jutsu. Honestly I can’t believe it’s taken me this long to get around to teaching you. If you…want to learn?”

“I would be honored,” Tobirama told him with complete sincerity.

Those were the only words he had in him but they were enough. Nothing could possibly have expressed how touched he was by this gesture. With the amount of times Izuna had thrown the matter in his face or the even more bountiful number of times Madara had assured him on it Tobirama had never felt so much like he belonged, so accepted. He met his husband’s warm gaze and he thought to himself, not for the first time, that this was truly where he was meant to be.

After ages spent doing nothing but staring deeply in to each other’s eyes Madara bit his lip and turned away, freeing Tobirama from having to make a bad attempt at expressing what he was feeling. His husband understood. They both knew each other very well by now. Tobirama just hoped that Madara understood all the nuances of how he felt, more than just the vague knowledge that he was grateful but also that he had never been more in love. Nothing Madara could have done would ever have shown him quite so perfectly that he was accepted here, was truly a member of the family, the clan, the people that he had chosen as his own as surely as he had been thrust upon them unwittingly. From the moment he first realized his own burgeoning feelings there had lingered some unshakable doubts and here at last was his clarity.

He may have been born an heir of the Senju but on the day he married he became an Uchiha. There were no regrets.

Learning a new jutsu was so much less difficult for him than it was for his student but there was still a learning curve with teaching his chakra to mold in to brand new shapes. As they ran through the string of hang signs over and over to get his hands used to the pattern Madara told him that learning this way was tradition for all children, use of the Sharingan expressly forbidden. For any child with the nature to mold fire chakra performing the Grand Fireball Jutsu for the first time was considered their first steps towards adulthood. He refrained again from making any bad jokes about the legitimacy of his own manhood now.

Since he was an adult with years more experience and a dozen more jutsu in his arsenal than the average child Tobirama was able to create at least a mildly impressive Grand Fireball by the time the sun began its descent in the sky. He would need quite a lot more practice before he could make one anywhere close to Madara's and honestly doubted he would ever be able to achieve quite that size. Madara had the advantage of fire being his first nature whereas Tobirama’s was water, fire a hard earned skill that would never come quite as easily.

“Would it be cheesy to tell you that you look dashing with firelight on your skin?” Madara asked as the burn of that first massive Grand Fireball faded from the air, the final product after hours of hard work. He gave an unrepentant grin when Tobirama rolled his eyes in response.

“Yes. It would.”

“Right, then I won’t say it.”

“I’m not sure if I love you more for your terrible sense of humor or if I’m going to make removing it my next science experiment.” Tobirama tapped at his chin with exaggerated thought.

His partner wasn’t fooled in the slightest. To his absolute mortification Madara sidled up close and tugged on the front of his shirt, asking him to bend down for a kiss, even seeming to enjoy it when the tips of his ears flushed a light pink and his eyes darted from side to side like he expected a horde of gasping onlookers to appear from the tree line.

“Out here?” He asked dubiously. Madara tugged a little more insistently.

“Kiss me, damn it. I just showed you a very lovely gesture and now you’re being mean to me.”

He did sort of have a point there so Tobirama bent and allowed Madara to drag him in to a kiss fiery enough that he began to worry all over again about how public these grounds were – in the back of his mind, of course, since most of his attention was immediately distracted by the feel of those gorgeous lips against his own.

Naturally the moment he stopped paying lots of attention to the world around them that was when the world decided to intrude itself upon their solitude in the form of two familiar faces. One of them was more than welcome, or would be as soon as she quit making wolf whistles across the field; Susumu hadn’t a drop of shame in her entire body. The other face Tobirama could have lived without. Likely his husband would be happy to see Izuna there, the two most precious and beloved members of his family together, but Tobirama could only think that having his brother-in-law appear had ruined the calm and happy atmosphere they’d been enjoying all afternoon. He was smart enough to keep that to himself as well though.

“Getting in a little exercise, are we?” Susumu waggled her eyebrows until Madara shoved her, Izuna turning his head to mime gagging. “What are the two of you scrumptious little bits getting up to then, eh?” Her curiosity only increased when they shared a look. Madara waved him on so Tobirama cleared his throat to bring all eyes to himself.

“We were practicing the Grand Fireball Jutsu,” he revealed softly.

“No shit? Well it’s about time!”

At her side, Izuna clearly did not share that opinion. His face pinched immediately but, to his credit, he managed to keep his mouth shut, a massive step up from all the months of deliberate antagonism. Tobirama almost thought he deserved a reward for such good behavior but bringing attention to it in any way was likely to toss them right back to where they started.

“So how did it go then?” Susumu demanded, as timely with her distractions as ever. Tobirama smiled for her.

“Quite well,” he said. “I’m not quite able to  imitate what Madara can do but I imagine that few can.”

“What he means to say is that he made incredible progress in one day and we should all be very impressed.” Madara interrupted, jabbing him with one elbow.

“I know I am. Good for you, muffin, good for you!”

Tobirama hummed noncommittally, not sure what to do with so much praise. It was different when it was Hashirama. His brother was naturally dramatic at all times and he’d stopped taking the man seriously a long time ago but with others he never quite knew what to say. Much easier was attempting to push the focus off of himself by asking what such an unlikely pair as Susumu and Izuna were doing out here in the middle of the day.

“What else would we be doing out here on a training field?” Izuna grumbled, low enough Tobirama didn’t think anyone else heard him.

“Oh, you know me. I get bored. This one was moping around the tower so I told him to put all that boring shit down for the day and pulled him out to work off a bit of steam with me. With you two here maybe we could make things a little more interesting?”

A terrible swooping feeling nearly ripped Tobirama’s stomach right out through his throat but the gods had mercy on him in the form of Madara shaking his head and declaring them already tired enough after their own training. If the four of them were to pair off for a spar he knew exactly who he would be matched against and fighting Izuna in any way was precisely the opposite of what he wanted. That was just one more thing that would have taken them right back to the start.

Listening while the three of them started gossiping and trading juicy tidbits about things happening around the Uchiha compound, small clan dramas he had no interest in, Tobirama eventually zoned out of what they were saying to focus on observing instead. He loved seeing Madara like this, so relaxed and happy as he chatted without thinking about his reputation or trying to impress anyone. And he was growing fonder and fonder of Susumu every time they met. Either of them could have easily drawn his eye and yet it was to Izuna that he looked, Izuna whose body language both yearned for his brother and held back at the same time, who leaned in to everything his most precious person said but kept his arms folded like an unconscious barrier between them.

Someone, it seemed, had been doing a lot of thinking. Not once since arriving had he made any snarky comments besides pretending to gag, though that could easily be attributed to brotherly teasing, and in fact he had mostly avoided even looking in Tobirama’s direction almost as though he wished to avoid the temptation to start a fight. The idea of rewarding good behavior suddenly didn’t seem like such a terrible idea after all.

Even better, Tobirama knew just how to do that without making it seem like he was trying to make fun of his brother-in-law. All he needed was the right moment and he didn’t even have to wait too long for that. The stars weren’t even out yet but they were all aligning just for him. Just as Madara began excusing them to go back home and let the other two have the field he laid a hand on his husband’s arm and tilted his head down in apology for the interruption. Then he looked to his brother-in-law.

“I’m glad we ran in to each other,” he murmured to the man’s obvious surprise. “I have something that I wished to give you.”

“Well that’s suspicious.” Izuna jerked when Susumu reached up to punch him in the arm, twisting his mouth in to a wry expression while he rubbed the sore spot but not taking his words back.

“Unexpected, I’m sure. He is not wrong to say so, Susumu-san, there’s no need for violence.”

“He could try being a little more polite,” she snapped back.

Tobirama very carefully did not smile or laugh. “He may react in whichever way he feels. And to that note, he is not in any way obligated to accept my offer; I would appreciate it if you do not disparage him no matter how he chooses.”

If the group of them hadn’t been looking at him strangely before then they were now. Madara eyed him from the side with a dubious expression while Susumu gave him a look that blatantly questioned whether he might have contracted some sort of fever. He understood their concerns, though, so it was easy enough to ignore them and concentrate on Izuna who had subtly dropped his weight to the balls of his feet, ready to bolt at a moment’s notice in case this was all a trick.

“Go on then,” he demanded. “What do you want?” He watched intently as Tobirama brought one of his hands to the opposite arm and pressed his thumb in to the seal inked there along his wrist, a seal that their other two companions had only seen him use once.

“This is not a gift for any specific occasion or with any obligation. It is also not a gift given lightly.” With a brief flash the Raijin no Ken appeared between his hands from where he kept it stored in the seal on his arm. “This sword has been a Senju heirloom since their clan head won it from ours so many generations back that many have forgotten where it originated from. As our clan’s most skilled warrior with a lightning nature I wish for you to be the new bearer of Raijin no Ken, that it be returned to the place it truly belongs.”

It was hard to decide which part of that had shocked everyone the most. That he was willing to give up his most powerful weapon maybe. Perhaps that he would give it to Izuna specifically. Or maybe, for Izuna, it was that he referred to the Uchiha as ‘our’ clan, including himself in their number so naturally as though he belonged here as much as the sword and all of them, passed through generations of Senju only to come home to the Uchiha where he was meant to be.

Silence reigned while Izuna visibly struggled with how to react. Both Madara and Susumu were good enough to keep their mouths shut despite how they were obviously bursting at the seams with their own opinions and for that Tobirama was grateful. He coached himself to patience as well, carefully observing the way Izuna’s weight rocked back and forth like he wanted to reach for what had been offered but held himself back for reasons known only to him. The fingers of his left hand twitched. His brows furrowed and relaxed so many times they seemed to dance across the top of his face until finally he looked away and for a moment Tobirama felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. Disappointment rippled through him.

Then Izuna took a deep breath in, let it out slowly, and turned to meet his eyes with a determined set to his jaw.

“You’re not going to regret it in a month and ask for it back?”

“No. The blade is yours if you will take it from me.” A significant caveat and they both understood that. The meaning of the gift would be changed entirely if anyone else were to offer it; Izuna had to accept that the blade came from Tobirama’s hands if he accepted it at all.

“And you’re not trying to bribe anything out of me either.”

Tobirama didn’t bother gracing that with a response. It sounded more like a statement than a question but even if it was a true worry it wasn’t worth soothing. He had nothing to gain with bribery and would never lower himself to such tactics when it came to making peace with his husband’s family. Another moment of silence passed before finally Izuna reached out with both palms turned up to receive the sword.

“I accept your gift and will treat it with the honor it deserves,” he intoned, snapping a quick glare over at his brother when Madara blew out an explosive breath of relief.

“May it serve you well.” Tobirama let his fingers tighten around the handle of a blade he had cared for and loved since he was first allowed to bear it as his own. Then he gently cradled the weapon across Izuna’s palms and released it in to the care of another who, though he loathed to admit it, could make use of such a legendary weapon much better than him. Seeing the Raijin no Ken once again in the hands of one who had truly mastered lightning would be a wonder, if nothing else.

As he handed it over Tobirama wondered, for a moment, just how angry the Senju elders would be when they found out he had given one of their most prized heirlooms away. Then he serenely dismissed the thought. He was a member of the Uchiha clan himself now so he could hardly be faulted for passing the blade along his own line.

Reverently and with awe poorly hidden in his eyes Izuna clasped the handle of his new weapon and raised it up, infusing just enough chakra for the blade to burst in to life the way it was meant to, a strike of lightning contained in human hands. The light of it against his skin made him look sallow but the excitement on his face almost made Izuna handsome. Almost. Tobirama bit his lip and peeked sideways. He would always prefer the older brother in every way.

“What do you say?” Susumu asked, her elbow uncharacteristically gentle when she nudged it in to her companion’s side.

“Thank you,” Izuna breathed. “It’s…a good gift.”

“A worthy gift,” Tobirama corrected him.

Their eyes met once more and he saw the battle in the other man’s gaze but it was a softer look than he’d ever seen directed at him and the battle was, at long last, over in only a few heartbeats of silence. He watched Izuna capitulate right before him and, strangely, felt none of the triumph he might have expected. They might never come to enjoy each other’s company but they would both be a part of Madara's life for the rest of their own and it seemed as though the gravity of that was finally getting through Izuna’s thick head. As Susumu had advised one brother in the earlier stages of this marriage, so too had the younger brother finally come to realize: they may not have chosen the connection between them but there was little point in making themselves extra miserable by fighting it so strongly.

“Want to try it out properly?” Madara asked with eagerness in his gaze. Izuna returned that look all too easily and the two of them darted a good enough distance away that there was space for Madara to take up the blade Izuna had brought with him so his brother could test out this new one.

“That was very well done,” Susumu murmured once they were out of earshot. When Tobirama looked down she was looking back up at him with knowing approval.

“I received some very helpful advice on the timing of it,” he acknowledged.

She smiled and patted him on the arm, gently for once. “Whether I’ve said it before or not this feels like a good day to say it again. Welcome to the family, kiddo. You’re doing great.”

“Am I?”

“The way you two started was foreign to me - to all of us - but even an old crust like myself is allowed to have a change of heart sometimes. After watching your relationship grow I can’t imagine anyone else by his side. You’re good for him; and I think he’s good for you too.”

Both of them turned their gazes away to watch their loved ones making a spectacle of themselves, hooting and hollering with joy as lightning sparked around them unheeding, and though Tobirama said nothing in return he knew that he didn’t have to. Instead of words he very slowly lifted one hand to rest it on Susumu’s shoulder, holding tension in his own until several seconds had passed with no reaction from her. She really had gotten to know him well, enough to know exactly what such a gesture would mean from him and, thankfully, how embarrassing he would find it for her to point it out.

“Should we rein them in before they destroy this whole field?” He asked eventually, eyeing the long scores of burnt grass adding themselves to the damage he’d already done himself during training.

“Oh let them play for a bit,” his companion tutted. “They’re having fun.”

“Their fun runs the risk of burning down the whole village if it spreads too far.”

“Killjoy.”

Tobirama looked down at her again with a mild expression. “My apologies for protecting the people of this village from two idiots with no restraint.”

He was glad to hear her laugh but even more glad when she moved forward to put an end to the play they were watching. Partly because he was worried about them getting a little too out of control as he’d said but also partly because he wanted to take his husband home and enjoy the rest of their day together. After such a peaceful start he hadn’t expected the last few hours to be riddled with so many emotions and he was ready for evening to bring back the calm.

Seeing Madara so filled with joyful energy was oddly reminiscent of the way he looked after a good spar with Hashirama, the ones where they didn’t run themselves in to exhaustion, and Tobirama decided he was glad to see the man so happy. Positive interactions between him and his brother had been few and far between over the past year.

“I guess they want to spar now,” his husband said as he came back across the field. “Ready to go home?”

“Mm, very. I believe a nice bath is in order and then perhaps something to eat. After all that exercise I am famished.” Tobirama put a hand to his belly, feeling more than hearing the empty gurgle it made.

“That sounds good, actually.”

It really did. Tobirama was in such a good mood he didn’t even spare a single thought when Madara wove their hands together for the walk home. Why should he? He was proud to have this man as his husband and if he wanted to show that pride off a little bit then he should be able to, especially when most of the people who would see them were members of their own clan.

A clan that Tobirama was proud to call his own.

#rae writes #madatobi #madara #tobirama #izuna #susumu #fanfiction

[christdawizard]

Ugh, each passing day brings another blistering sun. Each morning, there lies a blanket of moisture and fog hovering over the land. And each morning that morning turns to mid day. And during midday the bugs have already mated and the birds are out to hunt. Because the entirety of my home and the immediate area outside is rampant with bugs and dammed heat and moisture. It is as if a quick sweat is passed by us and we take a moment to recognize our amphibious ancestors. Blazes it is hot outside. I might as well speak forever since doing so brings enough of am exercise out of me the army would be jealous.

Here i am rambling, I ought to remain focused and sincere. I mean, I did kill him. I killed a son, a brother, someone who was loved. And what do I have to show for it? What does his life matter in the end? It matters nothing. Nothing. Nobody will remember the voice, for they should have committed it to memory. Nobody will remember the smell of him ever again! They never noticed. They never cared. Who remembers the little boy? In this world the innocence is snuffed out and smothered. Whichever the path, the results are the same.

It was the lack of respect in the relationship with my mother was when i noticed my slips. Tremors I would call them but they would behave more like post traumatic flashbacks, of a time I don't remember being in more of, a vision of what was to come. Anything from mutilated animal corpses to human remains dismembered by some outside malevolent force. These visions would always come when my mother would slap and hurt me.

What a time to begin the long journey towards manhood. The abused, war torn mother heroine silhouette. Then there was me, the frail, skinny pale un athletic, impassioned self destructive passive sadomasochist. Who else was there?! Nobody!?

So who raises the boy? Who tells him he will be the stalker of the youth, the drinker of the blood of the daughters of America? Is there demon for Christo, like angel for Jesus? For there is a day in history when the worst of all the criminals become borne into this world. That day is the end of humanity, when the prey of the worst of humanity become the children of the world. But, there will never be a cease to the march of time and vitality. Either protect yours, or have it taken forever. Else, the big man with the blade will eat your heart in front of the ones you love.

I love you buddy, I always have, I will see you soon enough, but if not, just know i will always be in your soul. Within your blood, incorporated in your inner most being, forever alive waiting to be unleashed upon the world. Like we have since the dawn of time.

- risibility

Engorged on the fruits of Elysium lies a drunkard of the languages of art and love whom will entail all secrets of the divine spark which allows for another life to enter our world.

Take my body

Take my vessel

Take my heart

Take my body

It is no longer mine

Please

Enter my domain

Whomever

May hear my cries

Feel the immense pain and frustrations this living coil has caused.

There is no God who may serve me when i reach the planes of embodiment.

And there are no words to describe the actions in which are performed. So in its place either silence, or harmony.

[sunfin3k]

The Reign of Emperor He (88-106) by Rafe De Crespigny

Themes: Objects; Army; Luoyang; Yellow Turbans; Wuhuan; Insults

Overview:

             Picking up on where last chapter finished, De Crespigny describes the family of the new Empress Dowager, Lady Dou. Her father had died after a scandal previously, but De Crespigny tells us she had four brothers. Although he expects they were older than her, he suggests they were unlikely to be old enough to offer her any support within the harem intrigues that secured her status as Empress and then Dowager. In fact, one of the brothers, Dou Xian, repeatedly caused his sister issues, leaving himself on the verge of execution.

           At just that moment however the Southern Xiongnu suggested a joint campaign against their Northern rivals and Dou Xian was appointed commander of the Han forces. However, De Crespigny explains that the campaign wasn’t popular with many of the officials. De Crespigny describes the campaign which was a spectacular success, completely destroying the Shanyu of the Northern Xiongnu. Dou Xian had wanted to set up a new Northern Shanyu to keep the Xiongnu divided but due to his fall this didn’t happen. As a result, the Xianbi filled the power vacuum.

           During the three years that Xian was campaigning the Dowager appointed other relations and allies to the important offices leaving the Dou clan in a very strong position. However, Emperor He took the cap of manhood at the unusually young age of 11, officially meaning the end of the regency. Despite this, De Crespigny says the Dou clan were too powerful for anything to change in practise until a eunuch, Zheng Zhong, arranged a coup with the Emperor leading to the Dou clan being dismissed from all positions of authority.  De Crespigny discusses the coup in some detail, but he notes that this was the first-time eunuchs had been so involved in court politics and they served as a template for future generations going forwards. Emperor He now in power, De Crespigny describes how he began to appoint a government loyal to him and upon finding out that the Dowager had only been his foster mother restoring the Liang clan to their previous prominence.

           Next De Crespigny describes the relations with the peoples of the West under Emperor He. Firstly, he explains the developments with the Qiang tribe in Liang, with one eye on the longer-term consequences of the decisions being made. Then he thinks about how Ban Chao was affected by Dou Xian’s victories, with him being made Protector-General.

           The next topic covered is the Dongguan and the histories that were written during He’s reign. De Crespigny the describes the fall of Empress Yin and the rise of her successor, the new Empress Ding. The circumstances of Emperor He’s reign were tough according to De Crespigny, lots of locust plagues and droughts were a strain on resources, compounded by the foreign campaigns already described. However, Emperor He did what he could to ease the burden and took bad omens seriously and tried to respond well to them.

           Having covered the political history of Emperor He’s reign, De Crespigny moves to the Emperor’s death and burial. He challenges the accusations of Cai Yong that Emperor He had been a poor ruler. However, his early death, at just 27, left the country in a bad state. He only had two sons, both of whom were children meaning that once again the country would be ruled by an Empress Dowager. De Crespigny says that Empress Deng proved to be a good ruler however a regency confused allegiances and it was this instability that ultimately bought down the Han.

           Due to the amount of wars fought during Emperor He’s reign, he uses this as a chance to study the Later Han’s military structure. He compares the system with that of the Former Han where there had been compulsory conscription for every man. De Crespigny remarks that when Guangwu introduced his reforms, his primary concern was another civil war so he wanted less men trained in military matters. Besides he reasoned that if there were less conscription when bandits became a problem neither the official army or the bandits would have received training so they’d be on an equal playing field. De Crespigny analyses the composition, equipment and tactics of the army in some depth concluding that there were between 15,000-20,000 professional soldiers who could be supplemented by poorly trained levies or tribesman auxiliaries. However, he says that ultimately one of their most effective and important weapons was money. Men with military experience rarely served in court which meant the interests of the officials and those leading armies became increasingly separate. De Crespigny says this had long term repercussions.

           This chapter ends by thinking about the changes in the political situation borne out by the policies of Emperor He’s reign. In particular the destruction of the Northern Xiongnu meant that the Southern tribe no longer had an external threat and were less likely to remain loyal. De Crespigny also notes the disparaging way that the Chinese treated the tribes and how that often led to war. Also, the policy of settling tribes in border regions meant that when they did rebel, they immediately caused issues for Han Chinese people.

Analysis:

           This chapter splits roughly into two section. The first is the overview of the political history of the time. When taking a longer view of history, it is easier to see why Emperor’s trusted their eunuchs. The second is a description of the Later Han army. For those whose interest is really on the fall of the Later Han it is this section that is invaluable, giving insight into the military structures that were still in place later in the dynasty. This is one of the best chapters for giving a comprehensive overview of the placement of the army, although other sources provide more detail about weapons and armour.

#later han #rafe de crespigny

[fahcandall]

Minecraft Kings AU - Descriptions

So, I've had this idea for quite a while of a Minecraft Kings style immortals longfic. So here's the basic descriptions of each character that theoretically would be kinda the first chapter of that, as an introduction of sorts.

...

...

Parents tell children stories of monsters, mobs from the forest and the nether to keep them in bed at night. Parents shudder from stories of the real monsters, men so drenched in death and power that they have crafted their own way into immortality, a road lined with blood and greed and the golden crown of the kings.

-

King Geoff, the First King, the True King. The rumours say that he is a god of the world in his own right. Before the kings ruled and fought over the crown, he built this world. When the world was built, the other gods left, but he was only half a god and so he stayed with the men of the world, ruling it from his castle. They say he was once benevolent, and to the common people he still can be, but he got bored. It was him who first encouraged the others to play his games and eventually to strive for the crown and immortality themselves.

King Gavin, the Golden King, the Trickster King, the Solar King, the Fool King. But best to not whisper the last too loudly. They say he also comes from the old gods who created the world, but he was different from Geoff. Instead of living forever immortal among men, when the world was created, Gavin left. Whether he went with the other gods then later changed his mind and came back, or whether he was already in his pattern of death and rebirth no one knows. But whenever he dies, his body disappears and he comes back to them from the forest. He's said to have a connection with the creepers, that he is their god, and when he dies they bring him back to life at the cost of a life of their own. It was once thought he'd never have the ability or desire to take the crown, but when he had had enough of the taunting of the other kings he took it with vicious glee and ruthless determination.

King Ryan, the Mad King, the Dark God, the Vagabond. He was once just a man. A powerful magician and scientist, but truly a man. But he was ruthless in his pursuit of power. He used his magic and his strength to steal life force from other creatures and tether it to himself for eternal youth and rejuvenation. He was the last of the originals to join the Kings, but the first to take the crown from Geoff, and he has held it most out of all of them. His lust for power is matched only by his delight in his own twisted indulgences. The Mad King takes pleasure from cruelty, in a way the other kings still don't. And he never settled for the power he had. Only a generation ago, he exceeded the other kings again, completely transcending manhood and forcing himself into godhood. He called himself the Dark God and laughed as he sat on his throne of death and gold. They say his generations of manipulating the sciences and the arcane came together and even the other kings shuddered to realize he now had powers stronger even than Geoff's.

King Michael, the Warrior King, the Righteous King, Mogar. He came to his immortality by pure strength and fighting ability. It is said he lived in the woods, mostly isolated, before he joined the kings. Living out there alone, with all the mobs, no surprise he was an excellent fighter. No one knows exactly how he became immortal, even he is not completely sure according to rumours. But stories say he frequently explored abandoned or mystical areas, killing any mobs and taking whatever he found inside. Some say he found an ancient artifact or a spell that granted him immortality, others say it was a combination of many items and magics he'd come across in his time. Either way, he didn't know about it until he joined the kings. He is considered fair to individuals, but he may nearly rival Ryan for the blood shed during his rule, as he is the most likely to go to war, and indeed will fight in the wars himself.

King Ray, the Rose King, The Red King. King Ray was born high nobility in a kingdom that once bordered Achieveland, but has since become a part of our kingdom. The Rose King was expected to be...gentle, kind, he'd seemed that way before, and it is said people rejoiced when they heard he had taken the crown, thinking it the end of war. But he sits the throne like he was born bored with it, lounging across it with a smirk as blood streaked his dark gloves and pooled under his dark boots. The stories say the Red King does not wear cruelty as a cloak he puts on and off, but woven inextricably into him as sharp thorns hidden under a rose's petals. No one knows how he became immortal. He was definitely human once, though he may never have been humane. But he keeps that secret close to his chest, and some whisper that it's because it is not as irreversible as the other kings’ immortality, that he could still be killed for good, and that fear is what drives him to his secrecy and his cruelty both. But don't ever think to kill one of the kings, mortals have no place playing their games and they have ears everywhere. Fear and rewards breed loyalty stronger than one would imagine, and the Red King is very good at both.

King Jack, the Good King, the Just King, our current king. It is said that long before he was ever king, Jack was the first true friend Geoff had. A man born of this world, who was gifted immortality by his king, his god, but most importantly, his friend. Jack had worked with King Geoff, never fighting him for many years before the others showed up to begin playing the King's Game, and maybe he didn't have that ruthlessness the others did from their struggle to obtain immortality. The stories say that he is the creator of many of the things for men, not the giant monoliths that the kings build to show up each other, but homes and farms and riverways to trade along. That kindness he had may have been why, while he's been there the longest, this is his first time with the crown. Because that many centuries around immortals hungry for power and blood, and the friendship and gentleness that once infused his soul eventually begins to fade. He's still just but it is a ruthless and absolute justice, and it is best to steer away from all those who have or have fought for the crown. Mercy is not a word they know.

Through our history those are all the kings reigning in achievement city. It has rotated between them in bloody games, like a mockery of how other kingdoms rotate rulers between their high noble families. But there are others who have joined them to play the King's Games. Other, younger immortals who have never yet worn the crown but fight for it every bit as viciously as those who've won it in the past.

Lord Jeremy. The blood mage. No surprises with that one as to how he got his immortality. He stole it with his magic, for what is blood magic except stealing the life from others? They say Ryan would trap and slowly drain the life force from his victims, back when he still needed to, Jeremy simply kills them and spills their blood over his unholy altar, stealing their souls to store their energy in reserve for whenever he needs the life power. His blood altar is said to have a huge room dedicated to it's dark arts, and that the only ones who ever leave that room after entering it, are the immortals. He used to work in their castle, a servant, they say he was enraptured by the Mad King and eager to work under him, and that he was inspired by the stories of the Red King. Even after a generation and a half as an immortal he still goes to extreme lengths to impress them with new forms of sadism, especially in his magic.

Lord Matt. They say he's a savant, a genius. They say he has made advances for the kingdom far beyond any normal development. And, he isn't even a mage. He has no further skill with magic than any normal man, instead he uses technology. Sometimes you might catch a glimpse of it, pray that you never see it closer than at a distance. His creations can be monstrous, almost like living things but not needing to draw breath. He's also responsible for many of the recent additions to the Kings' lands, their castle, their city, even achieveland itself. Jack built for the common people, Matt builds for the Kings. He became an immortal in the same generation as Jeremy, some say they worked together to develop their immortality, the benefits of the Mad King's labs and two brains doing what so few others have.

Lady Lindsay. The Chaos Queen. She has never held the crown herself, but she has sat at her husband's side as he held it. King Michael married her a few generations ago. Some say he offered her a share of his immortality, allowed her life to be linked with his for eternity. But others say she turned down his offer and found immortality on her own. They say she travelled to other worlds, the nether and the end, and deep into the caves and forests and oceans of this world, and found pieces of immortality, much like her husband, she found her immortality through exploration, but more like the Trickster King, she became friends with the creatures she found. No one knows if she had an affinity for magic before, but after her adventures she has become a powerful magic user, using a more holistic and nature driven magic than many of the others. But remember that nature too can be vicious, she's seen more than any human on this world, and chaos is a part of the universe. It is fair in its unfairness, cruel in its apathy to any one individual, and like chaos, her actions often makes no sense, destruction or healing, either are possible with her.

Lord Trevor. He's a witch. Ryan and Jeremy were humans who had an affinity for magics, and of course, Geoff and Gavin are gods, and can use magic, but Trevor was a human with so much magic that he makes even the gods look limited. Once he had access to Ryan's labs it was only a matter of time before his skill with magics and potions made him immortal. And he is young, less than a generation old, the second youngest of the immortals, but it is only a matter of time before he becomes King. He needs to learn how to play their games, how they cheat without cheating, which rules they bend and how to block them, but once he does, his magic will give him a shot that even the other more experienced Lords and Lady do not have. As for the kind of King he'll be? He has a mean streak through him, he'd have to, to become immortal, and he's young, easily influenced, but he's smart and savvy, he might be a very good king for the kingdom itself, and he might be more obliging to the common people, but stay away from his bad side, he might be an easy channeling point for all their sadism.

Lord Alfredo, the youngest immortal. He has become an immortal in our lifetime, he may even have a family out there somewhere who still knew him as a child. He was a sniper in their army, before that, a hunter. They say he has a great shot and is more receptive to the common person than nearly any other king. What no one talks about is how he became immortal. Well, people talk, people tell all sorts of wild stories of how he could have done it, some say he stole it from the other immortals, some say he won it from one of he immortals, or had it gifted to him as a puzzle to figure out. Still others say he did something similar to Lindsay, travelling to the hearts of mob spawns of different types and stealing their spawn magic. But no one who would have any real facts has said. Even the servants of the castle are quiet, not even a hint of a rumour from the immortals. But people do know that he worked in the Mad King's lab just before and after he bacame an immortal. And that he has no, or very little magic affinity. As for how he'll be as a king? He may be an experienced killer but compared to the other immortals he's still so new and innocent to their games. It'll likely be a while before Alfredo becomes King.

-

While doing research on the history of the kings I found this document. It was clearly part of a larger work or correspondence, it feels like merely an introduction, but the rest of it has been lost to time. There is no precise date given but since there is mention of how recently Lord Alfredo became immortal it is easy enough to estimate that this was around three to four hundred years ago, sometime during King Jack's first reign. Since my interest was in writing a history of the Kings and other immortals, I felt that this was a distinctly useful document to include. I have copied it out here, as the original text is showing its age. I could have simply included this and left it as it is, but it is of course missing one of the immortals, and I find it a shame to leave her out of such an interesting document. I write of course, of the newest immortal, Lady Fiona. I will include her description here in the style of the other descriptions and then I will proceed with my comparative history of this document and the history of the immortal kings.

-

At the time I write this, Lady Fiona is the youngest immortal and has been immortal for around 100 years. She is a wild warrior, very intelligent and independant despite her young age. Magic practice is much less common in today's world, but it is whispered that she has a strong spiritual connection and that she became immortal in part through her nature connections, and maybe even a magical affinity. Before she was immortal, and even for a while after she was a part of their armies. She is not known for the sharp shot that Lord Alfredo was said to be, but she is a leader, and for a long time led her own divison as captain against enemy attacks. She was known for leading stealth attacks through the forests and other seemingly impossible passes. It is said that she realized her immortality when a mission went wrong and her division was caught in an ambush. It was a massacre, but she woke up the next morning in a field of bodies, the lone survivor, until she saw the state of her armour, then she realized that she was immortal. Now whether that realization was that she was immortal with no knowledge of how it happened, or that her attempts to become immortal had worked, I do not know. Some say that when she ended up back in the castle she did not tell the other immortals of her immortality, instead she tried to trick them and stole from them. Then once they caught her and tried to kill her, she showed them the truth. Fun loving and wild, and nearly as chotic as lindsay, she seems to bring some lightness to the castle, even as all around the world seems to grow darker for the Kings. At the current time, Lady Fiona and Lord Alfredo are the only two who have not held the crown.

#achievement hunter #ah #ah minecraft #immortal kings #minecraft kings #writing #mine

[impudentmiscengenation]

The Day Magic Died - A Merlin Oneshot

DISCLAIMER:

I, Impudent Miscegenation, of Tumblr (dot net), do not own or have any affiliation with the creators of Merlin. All rights respectfully go to: Jake Michie, Johnny Capps, Julian Murphy, Julian Jones, and BBC1 Entertainment. I don’t gain material profit from my works featured here, I write for my own amusement.

Full Summary: Merlin realized, too late, that the ephemeral nature of man leads to a blatant disregard of heritage. Further away from magic does humanity slip, and the world is made all the worse for it. (Modern Era)(Canon Compliant)

Author’s Notes: I’ve been thinking about the phrase “when Albion needs him most”, being when Arthur will return. This is the result of that line of thinking; I may continue but let’s just call it a one-shot for now. No beta, we die like men, even if I did try to edit it well myself. If anyone has ideas on how they would want to continue it, and adopt this plot bunny, feel more than free, just credit me and give me a link so I can read it! Also, if it’s in italics, it’s the character’s thoughts!

WARNINGS: Major Character Death, Mentions of Major Character Death, Illness, Petrification (turning to stone)

Story under the cut.

The Day Magic Died

If someone were to ask the warlock Merlin when magic went into decline, he’d probably say that it started with Uther Pendragon and his Great Purge of Magic. He would also likely mention that King Arthur was to have mitigated some of the atrocities committed against magic by his late father had his life not been cut short at Camlann.

The truth of the matter was that the fall of magic happened slowly over the course of a thousand years or so. The Purge was certainly a catalyst but the complete destruction of magic could not be done in just one human lifetime, or even two.

The dragons were the first to die out. They were followed swiftly by the griffins, wyverns, and hippogriffs. Then gone were fairies, dwarves, elves, gnomes and trolls. When creatures of magic became myth alone, the world’s shift from magical to mundane became much more dramatic in a short span of time (at least, short for the immortal Emrys).

Healers were known as doctors, pyromancers became pyrotechnicians, evocationists turned to theology, and history was rewritten by hands that didn’t trust in the magic of the natural world. The druids lost their way, disbanded, and joined the rest of magic as legend. Remnants of their clans scattered and the modern world dubbed the descendants of their gentle souls “hippies”. As the Old Religion grew older and was forgotten, Merlin realized that he may be the only true magic practitioner left in the world.

Humanity, callous and ever-marching forward, favored the development of their technologies, their industry, over the preservation of the natural world. Ambitious fires consumed lands of wonder for the sake of progress. The future was steel and concrete, after all, so who had the need for an enchanted forest, anyway?

Merlin realized, too late, that the ephemeral nature of man leads to a blatant disregard of heritage. Not that evolution as a whole was a bad thing, but did it have to come with such sacrifice? Try as he may to convince the strangers of tomorrow that magic exists, and has existed for all time, his labor yields no result. (“Your sleight of hand is amazing; do you give lessons? I’d love to be a stage magician!”)

Further from magic does humanity slip, and the world is made all the worse for it.

War and famine tear through continents, hate and lack of common ground inciting violence as the answer. Death and destruction rule over peace and prosperity but Merlin knows that he, alone, cannot bring magic back to this world.

He is magic given form, of course, and is well aware that magic is dying.

——————————————————————————————————

Merlin stares at his haggard reflection through a dirty, cracked mirror.

He feels weak, his body like lead and spirit slowly breaking. Despite this, his magic chooses to youthen his appearance. Such a thing has happened previously, in his many centuries, and gives him little pause anymore. The difference is that, this time, it drains him. Utilizing any kind of magic tended to do as such these days, so Merlin made a point to avoid using his gift as often as was feasible.

Before him is a man of thirty or forty-some years. Untamed black waves, flecked with silver towards his ears and wet from a recent shower, are slicked back and reaching the base of his neck. He'd recently shaved his face; the first time he’d done so in perhaps seventy years, mind, and he bore the cuts to substantiate that fact.

Despite being more clean and groomed than he had been for a while, Merlin still looked like death. His complexion was so white it had a nearly translucent quality, blue veins pronouncing themselves starkly where they were close to the surface of his skin. The dark, almost bruise-like color surrounding his eyes wouldn’t go away regardless of the fact that he’d been spending most of the past few weeks doing nothing but sleeping. The deep blue that had once reflected light and happiness had turned a stormy gray that sluggishly pleaded for an ear to listen, a mind to open, a heart passed childhood to believe in magic.

The warlock grimaced at the corpse-like figure reflected back at him. I have studied, I have counselled and been counselled in turn, I have searched realms beyond ours for answers… For all that I have done, what have I wrought?

Over a thousand years of waiting, trying to spare creatures of magic, even those he’d fought against in his youth, if only to prevent the inevitable downfall of his kin. Centuries of searching for hints or whispers, making friends with those who still believed, when there was the occasional kindred spirit. (Merlin had later discovered that many of these ‘kindred spirits’ were also very much addicted to taking LSD, but he liked to think of their discussions more than that fact.)

Merlin had not been idle while awaiting the return of his king, that was for sure. He had been appointed various titles, given different jobs, and even has made himself entirely unknown in the many years of his unending life. Recalling a few brought a smile to his face. He had been a counsellor, a poet, a bard, and a spymaster. He had also been an artist, an author, a bartender, and a professor. All that time, and yet nothing he did seemed to help, or matter really, in the end. Magic was still dying.

He was so tired of being tired all the time. Not for the first time, Merlin cursed his druid name and with it cursed his immortality. What he wouldn’t give for the slumber promised by death’s kiss.

Merlin decided that he needed a walk, a long walk to some heavily forested area. He always seemed to feel better among the towering oaks that could relate, at least somewhat, to the inequities of long life. Perhaps he could shake off his melancholia with some good, old-fashioned isolation. Leaving the dingy motel room he’d decided to call home whilst staying in Inverness, Merlin looked to the dreary, gray clouds looming overhead. There were still no whispers of magic.

Avalon’s lake is still yet again, Merlin thought, crestfallen, as he did so every day, Albion must not need you yet, Arthur… I wish you’d come back; I need you, I don’t want to do this alone anymore.

——————————————————————————————————

Merlin stopped in the Ness Islands, having stepped away from the trail and into the heavily wooded areas around it. A small stream of water cut through the earth at his left, winding carelessly through the trees and stretching beyond view. Merlin cupped fresh water in his hands and used it to clear the sweat and grime from his face, before taking a moment to ponder his reflection again.

He appeared even younger than when he'd left, an adolescent just approaching manhood stared at him from the clear water. He looked younger than his magic had ever made him appear before and Merlin wondered why that was so. He looked as he did when he arrived in Camelot for the first time.

The bone-deep exhaustion had only gotten worse as he walked, and Merlin suspected that this was due in part to his inadvertent age regression. Moving to lean against a large tree, the warlock drew his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. Resting his chin atop his bony knees, Merlin sighed his weariness and his eyes, if not the rest of his face, betrayed his long years.

Merlin knew that he would wait however long he needed to for Arthur's return, would gladly do so, but his heart ached and his mind was now more than ever prone to wandering. Was destiny a lie? Was he doomed to wait an eternity for a day that will never come? He was always poised for the day that King Arthur would return to him, yet every day he would feel nothing from Avalon. The water remained irenic, despite his clever and colorful foul-mouthing of the few remaining Sidhe.

So he continued to wait, to move forward but never move on, and try to make the world a more magical place in the process. He'd failed, of course. Just as he'd failed Arthur, failed Camelot. He had failed everyone in his life, including himself. His most recent years were the most melancholic he had ever truly allowed himself to be, simply because… he was so tired.

He moved, his forehead on his knees, and was the perfect picture of grief.

Under a canopy of shimmering stars, Merlin wept for his years of loneliness, his truest friends long dead. He wept for the withering magic of this world, and for Arthur. He always wept for Arthur, the man who'd once told him never to cry over such loss. But, then, when had Merlin ever listened to Arthur anyway?

It was a while before the tears stopped but, even when they did, Merlin found that he didn't possess the strength to move from his position. He was only able to lift his head, watching the bright colors of the sunrise dance across the sky.

The world was still beautiful, the world still held wonder, and for those reasons alone, Merlin knew that there was some magic there, there just had to be. The warlock smiled to himself, half-delirious with the sudden wave of comfort that overtook him as the birds began to coo in the trees.

He leaned to the side, a leg tucked underneath him and propping his head up with his hand, elbow on his other, raised knee. In the palm that didn't support his head, he produced a small blue butterfly, its wings shimmering with gold as they flapped. Merlin hummed in contentment. Despite the fact that this measly butterfly had likely tapped his magical resources out for the next several hours, Merlin decided in the moment that it was worth it.

His fingers gently closed in on the magic butterfly and it fluttered in his loose fist. If the butterfly didn't dissipate by the time he woke up from a brief nap (thus returning the magic to his body), he would release it in hopes of the butterfly unleashing some magic into the world that so desperately needed it. Sapped of energy, Merlin closed his eyes and allowed himself to succumb to sleep.

The warlock never woke.

Starting with his lost, grieving heart, the immortal Emrys turned to stone.

Merlin’s true age caught up with the stone epitaph he left behind; hundreds of years worth of damage from the elements and plant growth spawned upon the almost unrecognizable statue.

The butterfly fluttered in its stone prison for a few moments more before settling, presumably to wait.

Hundreds of miles away, a lake whose surface had been placid for centuries began to ripple.

#my first contribution to the fandom #i hope you like it #angst #merlin #merlin fanfiction #merlin fanfic #destiny is a bitch #character death #petrification #Merlin is immortal until he's not #probably won't continue but who knows #my work #don't repost