[ THE FALLEN GOD KING ]

I will destroy you in the most beautiful way possible, and when I leave, you will finally understand why storms are named after people.

[krtaemin]

‘a thousand years’

[krtaemin]

he nods because of course he would, of course he would attest to doing just about anything she asked of him. it’s such a small token anyway, but it seems to fill her up inside strangely enough, and he likes it, he likes how bright and bubbly she seems, the light emulating from her cheeks and her eyes. he could kiss them if he thought she’d let him, but he’s not sure if they’re there yet. he wants to be. desperately wants to be.

when she starts describing her dreams to him, he hums along with her words, showing that he’s paying attention even though he’s only half listening. part of his mind is still caught by her skin, lulling over the smoothness, the slow-burn urge to bend down and kiss her hand, kiss her arm, kiss her shoulder and her neck and her jawline until finally claiming her lips. he keeps having daydreams about it, keeps praying for it, that somehow he could just lean in, just a little bit closer…

for some reason it’s easier to flirt stupidly with other people, it’s easier to be as flippant and casual about everything, but something inside him, something wholly separated from zeus as a spirit, wants to take this slow, wants to be careful enough to build something maybe a little bit more permanent than what the god-king is used to—despite having been married as long as he had in his previous life. taemin is different though, at least in some aspects, in that he feels a little bit heavier. his feet are on the ground, no clouds in his hair, no stars in his eyes.

no, the stars belong in jieun’s eyes, the way she looks up and over at him, describing herself dancing and creating things. he can remember watching her do those things, knowing that she’s dreaming of memories. he wonders if she remembers demeter, he wonders if she’s ever dreamed of him. he could recognize those same marble floors she describes with his eyes closed, recognize her laughter, her flowers, her joy. half the year given opportunities to see her, touch her, adore her from afar, while half the year allowing the world to be plunged into coldness and darkness. he’d allowed demeter to do this because it seemed fitting—without her smile towards the sky, how could anything be bright?

he starts feeling a few raindrops, which effectively pulls him out of his reverie and he shifts along with her. he doesn’t expect her to take his hand like so, his eyes growing wide. “i.. what? yes? of course i can dance.” he blinks a few times, before feeling more rain. damn it. he frowns. “ah, it’s starting already…” no sooner have the words left his lips than the rain really starts pouring down and taemin is used to the rain, but these are expensive clothes. he gets a better grip on her hand and pulls her up as he stands, drawing her away from the picnic towards a nearby gazebo for shelter. he doesn’t let go even after they reach underneath it, but it takes him a moment to realize the sandwiches are probably now ruined.

“well that was an adventure,” he chuckles at her, suddenly hating himself for being semi-responsible for bad weather, even though this isn’t his fault this time.

[galenburow]

[krtaemin]

‘love me leave me’

@krxmihyun

taemin has plenty of reservations about this, first off, not all of them having to do with the obvious tension between him and hera—or sandara, as she’s known in this world. there’s the tension and then also the very big question mark that hangs in his head every time they’re near each other, regardless of the tension—what in the hell is he supposed to do now? until he figures that out, he really shouldn’t be coming to her workplace, he shouldn’t be trying to see her or talk to her or be around her at all, in the slightest.

she shouldn’t want to see him either, not with how they are always at each other’s throats or how things never seem to align for either of them. but still. here he is, strolling into magical arrangements like he owns the place, the same way he enters anywhere. it’s an air about him that he must maintain, despite whatever nervousness he feels on the inside. appearance is all about composure, as his mother would say.

a composure which freezes and cracks upon impact, locking eyes with a woman he hasn’t seen in a very long goddamned time. “mihyun?” he asks, his voice quiet and a little sad, blinking confused and surprised. he can’t help the way his heart constricts a little at the sight of her, even though, well, of course she would go off and get another job. here, though? really, she’s working here? she left his office, left him high and dry, after all the dinners he’d taken her to and all the smiles they’d exchanged and inside jokes, to come here and work for his ex-wife?

he and mihyun hadn’t actually dated but at one point, he’d thought maybe… maybe she had been enough of a permanent fixture in his world to warrant trying something out with her. seeing her every day had created something of a crush, he supposed, even with how cliché it had seemed to like his secretary. damn him for having such thoughts. he blinks a few more times and continued his slow approach to her desk, pausing a long moment before clearing his throat and tapping the pads of his fingers against the surface. “hello. so you work here now, huh?”

[krtaemin]

‘lullabies’

@krxsandara

zeus can’t even count the number of times he has fucked things up. in the whole of history, he’s fairly certain that he’s managed to ruin at least 98% of everything he’s ever even touched, so it’s no small surprise that he’s already messed up the situation between him and hera. not that there’s anything intensely emotional going on between the two of them ( or is there? maybe? no? he’s not sure—he never is, so what else is new ) but he doesn’t like when she’s angry with him. regardless of whether or not they could ever mean anything to each other again—persephone’s eyes and lips and laughter still ringing in the back of his mind—he still would rather not make an enemy of his…. former wife.

he comes to her apartment with his heart pounding in his chest, his cheeks burning, the guitar case firmly in his grasp. it’s a little rainy unfortunately, but he’s used to that by now and it shouldn’t interfere too much with his plan. it’s not pouring, just getting over a little sprinkle. he comes over to where he knows her window is, the first floor of the nanjin duplex and sniffles a little bit at the chill. autumn is setting in and trying to bite at his fingers. he ignores it and starts strumming the guitar. he’s never been super musically inclined, but he has always liked the guitar and been able to play a few tunes. this one is a lullaby, sweet and simple, but he sings it loud enough for the whole damn neighborhood to hear. including hera, wherever she is inside.

he knows she’s home, and she can’t hide forever.

[krtaemin]

kings and queens of promise

[krtaemin]

his first instinct is to laugh actually, which may or may not have more to do with the alcohol still heavy in his blood stream, reminding him that he might remember a million things about being a god on a daily basis, but his body is still very much human, beyond question. he can’t help the slight chuckle that bubbles up from his throat a little bit though, the only way the shock chooses to manifest itself, unfortunately. he knows that might possibly anger her, but he’s too disconnected from reality at the moment for that to really weigh on him.

suddenly it’s as though they step off the dimension they’re currently in and into some small bubble world of their own, a place where no one else exists, nothing else penetrates it. he’s only here, now, locked onto her eyes, absorbing the lines in her face, the strands of her hair, the vague moonlight across her cheeks. ahh, he remembers this; this feeling that always engulfs him whenever he’s with her—as though he could drown in her. whenever zeus was with hera, he could spin the whole world in her honor, adore every centimeter of her skin, kiss away every doubt in her mind. them together, that was never the problem; things always got bad whenever he wasn’t around her. for some reason, zeus’s need for immediate gratification tended to supersede his genuine feelings for her.

when he was with her, no one else in the world could reach him, but when they were separated… out of sight, out of mind, as it were.

but goddamn it, she’s beautiful, every inch of what he’d expect of someone like her, and that realization makes him incredibly embarrassed and self-conscious, not just for taemin being drunk, but for being so weak, a human, a mortal, nothing but a shadow of his powers ignited within him. he wants to disappear, but at the same time, he’s so scared that if he blinks she’s disappear. he’s not sure if he wants that or not. she’s staring at him like he’s abhorrent, stepping away from him as though she can’t hardly believe her eyes. and it hits him, he’s had no clue where she’s been this entire time, where she’s hidden herself, and he’s been all over this city, grown up here, built building here, left his mark here.

for a moment, she softens and he catches it and it breaks his heart, but the look doesn’t last long enough for him to speak on it, the beginning of a sentence forming in his mouth just as soon as she becomes stone and cuts him off. “what do i…?” is she really asking something so—? how can she possibly be so—? “hera. oh my god. please don’t, please don’t do that. i’m… you’re here. for some reason i didn’t think i’d ever see you again…” and he’s too fucking drunk for this. he runs a hand through his blonde hair, blinking hard and trying to shake off the drunkenness. he has to focus his eyes on the ground for a moment, inhaling deeply. “where the hell have you been?” he steps closer to her, something in his chest burning and breaking and aching to be closer to her.

a thousand memories brush through his mind, a kaleidoscope of everything zeus knows and pours onto taemin’s head like a hurricane, a rush of cold water, of love and loss and the never-ending cage he’d trapped both of them into, a marriage that had seemed perfect at the start and impossible near the end. or had it been the middle? watching her first smile, her shining intelligence, holding her hand, sharing a joke with her. he can remember kissing her lips, her hair, her fingers, her stomach, the inner side of her knee. it felt like poison and taemin wants to vomit, because it’s all mixed in with arguments loud enough to shake the mountain they live in together, jealousy and misery and pain. he’d really fucked up. he’d really, really fucked up, and he can’t quite say this reincarnation is any better than the last.

[krtaemin]

‘dissociation’

@krxdahyeon

it’s already been a hellish day for lee taemin, as much as a day in the life of a wealthy socialite can be. but he does have a job and despite zeus’ penchant for wanting to skip out on everything demanding or tiresome, taemin is a bit more down to earth and driven in his pursuits. it’s one of the very, very few dissociations between himself and the god living through him, and he tries not to be frustrated or irritated by it, but that’s difficult with something as powerful as zeus. taemin tries not to think about it most of the times, tries to just keep his own focus and get his own job done—and then afterwards zeus can influence him all he wants.

but today has been particularly hard at the office, having to chew out his board of directors and then fire someone who really needed the job. it’s not his fault and he wishes he hadn’t needed to go to such extremes but sometimes mistakes call for blood and he has too much riding on his current architectural project for it to go badly because of one person’s negligence. still though, he tends to be more loyal to his workers, he wants to care a little more, but he can’t be seen as weak or soft by these people. he’s already seen as too young for his position or knowledge, he has to make up for it somehow.

he sighs, his shoulders held low, his head hanging a bit, the vision of his ex-workers face falling as he receives the news. taemin must make himself stone, must remember the endgame, the ends justify the means. he leans forward against the bar counter slightly though, letting the wave of nausea pass by him and hoping it won’t result in any unwanted cough-ups. he clenches his teeth together, hums low in his throat. just breathe, keep breathing.

as he’s staring downwards, he spots leg come into view, long, thin, perfect, and wrapped in red satin, tempting enough for even the most chaste of gods. he lifts his head up to catch sight of the woman attached to a limb that beautiful, but only cold, solidifying recognition flood through his system. her face is burned into his mind, seared by pain, masked in her pretty smiles and sparkling eyes. “succubus,” he calls her, getting her attention. “dahyeon? what are you…” well it is a public bar, after all.

[krxmarktuan]

anti-biotics + burnt porridge

[krtaemin]

taemin hates being sick—well, that’s pretty normal honestly, but he hates it for a myriad of reasons, not just because being sick is gross and it makes him weak. he hates it because it makes him feel too human, too breakable, too much like one of the mortals that he has been forced to live side by side with. he is a god inside his head, still king of mount olympus, still bringer of lightning and justice, and he hates that something as small and simple as a virus could take him out and put him permanently in bed. make him helpless. he wishes he could burn it out of his system, wishes he were stronger than this, the way he used to be. he’s homesick for his own body, for his own godhood. he’s exhausted and he doesn’t want to do this anymore.

thankfully amusement comes in the form of mark calling him back, the wind hitting against the receiver of the phone, causing things to be a little bit hard to hear. “what? no, sleep is impossible.” taemin squints but then starts laughing as he hears mark’s question. “i thought you already knew where i lived! i feel so disappointed now, mark-ah.” he chuckles. “i live in skyhall apartments, seventh floor, room 706. i’m all the way at the end of the hallway.” he coughs and then pouts. “please come quickly, the illness is claiming all the space inside my lungs, i’m sure i’ll die soon.” but he can’t keep the teasing out of his voice. “i need you, mark-ah.”

he reaches over to his home security panel and unlocks the door via remote control, from his bed. “you can just come on in.”

[krtaemin]

‘nightmarescape’

[krtaemin]

the roar of the pit is loud, echoing inside zeus’s ears and he wants to be able to drown it out but somehow he knows—in the same way he knows he is akin to this daemon in the pit—that he will hear it in the back of his head forever possibly, ringing there like the toll of a bell. it’s as if it is a parting gift, a final curse, the gift left from his father declaring that zeus might have defeated him but he’d never be rid of him, entirely. it’s something taemin can relate to, something he understands on a human scale; knowing his father is always there, just barely out of reach, always just a whisper of a threat, and that still somehow being enough to fill him with terror.

he nods, blinking slowly, the choice, few memories he has of nyx flowing through his head. he must admit, he hasn’t been close to the goddess of night, but then he’s never been able to befriend most of the primordial gods, for the simple fact that he doesn’t like being reminded that he could be outmatched by any of them. he is the god king now. regardless of whether they agree with him, hate him, or ignore him, they must adhere to this fact. his chin lifts ever so slightly in pride and lightning cackles around his fingertips.

but then morpheus draws his attention off to the side and he follows the line of his finger to look over next door. at the mention of poppies, zeus is accosted with memories of a young girl with spring in her hair, laughter in her voice, and softness in her eyes. suddenly the area smells like flowers and he wonders what persephone is doing right now, if she’s okay, if she’s happy being away from him. she’s married to hades. he must remember that. “it’s not weird to like flowers. poppies are sweet. i wonder if she would like poppies…”

his voice sounds far away now, even to himself, and he hadn’t meant to wonder that last bit out loud. he drops his eyes to the pit once again before turning around, turning his back to it. a thought bursts into his head like a wildfire and his brow furrows angrily, like he’s concentrating before glaring over at morpheus. “what are you doing here? why have you come? did you bring me this dream, to mock me?” it hurts enough to have lived through this once, now he’s being forced to see it again? “i don’t want to be here anymore, can you change it?”

[krtaemin]

kings and queens of promise

@krxsandara

yo ho ho and a bottle of rum~

the contents of which slosh around in his stomach as well as inside the large bottle in his hand, his fingers wrapped around its neck like a lover. he has a song in his head even though he can’t remember he lyrics to it, and he’s not even sure he has ever actually listened to it—one of the many joys of having something inside you that has lived millenias more than you. maybe zeus heard it once and is now plaguing his human counterpart with it. usually taemin and zeus get along, usually everything is okay between them, but tonight is just painful. tonight, he wants to be a dream, some nightmare somewhere that hopefully the occupant will awaken up out of soon.

the stars above his head burn just as brightly in the sky as they do inside his chest and he can remember when they’d formed into the constellations. he can remember when the stars formed. how many people could say that? how many could have that sort of concrete understanding of how old the universe is, of how it had felt to conquer it, to save it, to bring order to the chaos it had been in his father’s dynasty? how many could know the way the earth smelled when it had first come together, water and dirt and atmosphere, reshaped from the hodgepodge it had been before?

taemin wishes he could say all this knowledge makes him want to be thankful or humble for being able to live in it, but in fact, it makes him bitter. he once ruled these grounds, he once flew in the sky, felt the storm-clouds through his fingertips—and now look at him. wandering around a deserted park in the middle of the goddamn night, half drunk and on his way to passing out on a sidewalk somewhere like a homeless person. he is a successful business owner, a rising star in korea’s architectural scene, charming, smart, born and bred for the spotlight; and yet, nothing can compare to the might of Olympus, nothing can erase that need to be prayed to, to be adored by not just thousands but millions of souls.

it’s not enough. nothing feels enough. damn you damn you damn you chronos, and this curse you’ve put upon them all. zeus can feel himself wasting away inside his own misery, like it’s acid he’s drowning in instead of rum.

he doesn’t realize just how unsteady he is until he sees someone up ahead in the distance, giving him a dose of just how stable the ground actually is and the proper way to walk across it. he does his best to control himself better as they come nearer, but then there’s this intensely magnetic pull on him and he has to look up and squint at the other person, a woman. “hello?” he asks, even though there’s really nothing to introduce himself with. “i’m sorry, i don’t really mean to bother you but can i--...” the closer he gets to her, the clearer she becomes, and it feels like a thousand bricks on his heart, stuffed into his lungs. he can hardly believe it. he can’t breathe. “... hera?”

[baekhyunxkr-blog]

— calamity

[krtaemin]

depression is an odd thing to fight with. much like one hand going against another, it simply doesn’t make a lot of sense, and the act of fighting it is somehow inherently counter to what depression can do to you sometimes; take away all your fighting spirit. movies and television shows will depict the disorder as an extreme sadness, but that’s not entirely true. when taemin thinks of depression, he thinks of it like a greyness that sets in on people, almost without them realizing it, like a fog. sometimes one can see through the fog, to small scraps of normalcy, but a lot of the time, instead of just bursting into tears s lot, many people tend to just be very apathetic.

of course, he can’t be sure though—having never felt the disorder to his knowledge. for all his fuck ups and missteps, he feels like he gets angry too much of the time for such a feeling. but he figures his theory must be close, given the sorts of things depressive people do and say and act like. they must not care, or must not be able to care—much like how baekhyun’s mother was not able to care about how much effort he was making to connect with her. she couldn’t feel it perhaps, lost in the fog, trapped in the greyness. it’s not that she doesn’t love him, just that there are pieces of herself that keep her from receiving and acting on that love.

it’s for this reason that he can’t bring himself to dislike or be angry with baekhyun’s mother—that, and the fact that how could he ever be angry with someone who’d brought baekhyun into this world? if she never does another amazing thing, that one bit would have sufficed. taemin can’t even count how many times baekhyun had saved him growing up together, despite their turmoil, despite their rawness, their inner wildfires clashing. they didn’t get along a hundred percent of the time, but that never really mattered, not to taemin, not to zeus. as far as he was concerned, it only brought them closer.

but when baekhyun had cut off all ties, he’ll admit, he felt like a ship without an anchor. they’d ended things rather malignly and looking back on it, he feels like he should have fought harder to keep baekhyun around, but it was hard for both of them after that, hard to admit things hadn’t worked out… again. for taemin, young and teenage as he was, it had been something of a matter of pride versus his heart, but he wishes he could have done things differently, not been so caught up in himself. it’s something he often finds himself wishing a lot.

“well, if you can pry yourself away from here for a night, you know you can come crash at my place,” he offers, feeling the words stick a little on his tongue. he doesn’t want to make it sound like some sort of flirtatious invitation—it’s a genuine concern, baekhyun not getting any sleep—but he also doesn’t think he should stay here. “honest. no funny business, just a good meal and a night’s rest. you can’t help her as she is, like this, anyway, nike.”

his oldest friends’ next words send his heart pounding a little bit, just from the discomfort. if there’s one thing taemin hates really talking about, it’s emotions and his own personal emotional state. baekhyun doesn’t even need to clarify his words, taemin knows exactly that he’s referring to the past, to that time they really ended, a few years back. “hey, don’t… don’t beat yourself up about it okay? i didn’t exactly try very hard to reach back to you…. so…” again, a matter of a stupid kid’s stupid pride. he supposes, if he’s honest with himself, he hasn’t changed much. “you know something? i’m not too sure how i would have taken it either. i probably would have tried to get back together, just because, well, that’s generally how i deal with shit.” he chuckles a bit. “you know me, forever messy.” he hangs his head low, his eyes pinned to the floor. “i’m sorry about what happened. about my part in it; i wasn’t good for you and you needed more. and i’m sorry i never really tried to get back in contact with you afterwards...” he rubs the bridge of his nose. “could have really used your advice a few times, haha.”

[thechaperones]

Visit Original Link

The Devil & The Huntsman // Sam Lee (King Arthur: Legend of the Sword)

[krhanbyul]

♢ perception.

[krtaemin]

he tilts his head at her slightly a bit more, the grin still spread out across his features, while she reacts and responds to him. she thinks he’s just joking, and he supposes he can’t really blame her; it would definitely take some convincing to get her to see things the correct way. it’s not like an easy trek to take, finding out you have a mythological-associated soul living squeezed up against your own, the two spirits dwelling just underneath your skin. who in their right minds would believe something like that?

except neither of them are really in their right minds, alcohol having done what alcohol does best. the stars above them shimmy and swirl lowly, brightly, brilliantly. taemin’s always loved the stars, always thought there could be little else to compare to them. it’s one of the reasons he’d always appreciated being god of the sky, the ability to get as close to the as possible. he slowly reaches his hand up, fingers outstretched, shutting one eye to spot the stars between his fingers. he catches the tail of the big dipper between two of his digits and imagines actually being able to hold it.

“i know you think i’m mad,” he mutters, wanting to just cut through that sort of bullshit, “but haven’t you ever felt different from everyone else? strange? stronger? better?” he doesn’t bother looking over at her, doesn’t drop his eyes from the sky. he can remember meeting nyx for the first time and he’d thought there could never be anything more unattainable, more breathtaking. “i was ten when the earth shifted and i realized i wasn’t who i thought i was. there are memories crushed inside of me that belong to something else, something bigger and older than me.” finally he comes back to himself, loses the airy tone in his voice, to look over at her once again. “do you ever feel that? that you belong to another time?”

he drops his arm and laughs a little, reconnecting the cigarette to his lips and inhaling. “yes, yes, achilles, mr. unbreakable, mr indomitable—all except your ankle.” had a real attitude problem too, if zeus remembers but that doesn’t seem to have changed all that much. still has zero respect. when the other guesses taemin’s godhood, he chuckles and leans his back flat against the wall of the house, spreading his arms out, almost in a half-bow, like this is a show. “the one and only, in the flesh.” he inhales his smoke again. “and before you ask, yes, it does piss me off to be like this, heh.”

[krtaemin]

‘brotherhood’

[krtaemin]

the thing is, taemin knows how much of an asshole he is, he is aware of the fact that he can be quite difficult. it’s something he has been actively trying to fix in himself for a while now, but so far it’s gone about as well as one can image a human nature fighting against a god nature could possibly go. it doesn’t help that taemin is himself quite frustrating and headstrong, so more often than not, he and zeus tend to be on the same page anyway. it’s not until later, after the deed is already done, when taemin regrets his actions and wishes he could find some small modicum of restraint.

kyungsoo must not have come to this realization yet, or if he has, he refuses to do anything about it. he’s always been moody and negative, acting contrary as often as he could, but taemin’s always found ways to either take that in stride or bicker with him about it. tonight seems like one of those nights of bickering, especially since taemin really needs his company. some small part of him understands kyungsoo’s reluctance, given how short notice it is, but again, taemin is too headstrong to really acknowledge that.

[ txt -> hades ] ur a busy man but i know you’re probably on your couch in your pjs eating ssal ro ppung or something!! [ txt -> hades ] please come out with me, take it as a favor and i’ll owe you one [ txt -> hades ] its for a benefit for troubled teens~ like you were~~~ [ txt -> hades ] i promise not to make you talk to anyone, i just need a wingman [ txt -> hades ] i’ll be dead in spirit if you don’t help me!!! how can you refuse your own brother this!!

he is in the middle of traffic, trying not to grin like an idiot while he write all this. it’s supposed to be serious and he probably ought to be angry that kyungsoo is telling him no, but something about the finality with which kyungsoo types is so funny to taemin. it makes sense, as everything that kyungsoo does tends to make sense, since he is the god of Finality and things coming to an end, but taemin still finds it slightly refreshing. he’s so devoid of charm.

[ txt -> hades ] it’s tonight, i really need you in a nice suit and ready to at least drink some champagne with me [ txt -> hades ] just think of the alcohol! [ txt -> hades ] and girls in pretty dresses

[alexaesung]

[krtaemin]

‘what’s it like to be happy?’

[krtaemin]

is happiness really possible? as an abstract, unattainable goal maybe, but as something literal, as something tangible, something a being, human or god, can actually obtain? no. taemin refuses to believe that, refuses because if it is true, that would only highlight just how badly he is at living. here he is, with everything at his fingertips, even back on the throne of heaven, everything he could ever want—and it was never enough, he could never be satisfied. is that what happiness is? for all the millenia he’s watched and dealt with humans, he’s yet to find one that was truly satisfied with themselves either.

“well perhaps, it’s that i’ve never witnessed true happiness before.” he turns his head and looks over at her for a moment. “unless you want to say that you yourself are perfectly and wholly content, want for nothing, miss nothing, yearn for nothing, ache for nothing?” not that hestia isn’t all-encompassing compassion and warmth, but he knew, even she must have short-comings she’d rather weren’t so.

but he lets her pull him to the couch, the tea mug handle secure in his grip, and sits down with her carefully. he doesn’t spill anything but he cradles the mug between both hands anyway now, resting it against his bent leg as he sits facing her. he stares down at the seeping bag, watching the color ooze out of it and infect the water, thinking it an appropriate metaphor for himself. he can’t bring his eyes up to meet hers, suddenly feeling like a guilty child. “i… i might have…” it’s embarrassing mostly, but terrible, and it starts coming out in a rush. “i think i like someone. and i think she likes me too. but she belongs to someone else… and i’ve already fucked this up, she doesn’t understand anything yet, anything about me, and zeus won’t let me just—he’s always in my head, pushing me this way and that way, and, and, i’ve already screwed everything up, but she just doesn’t know about it yet, but if she did, she’d hate me for it and i don’t know if i can—…” he’s already shaking his head, but he shuts his eyes and brings his palm up to his forehead, like he can hold back the headache brewing there. outside a storm begins to rumble. he feels like he’s drowning.

[krtaemin]

There were downsides to owning your own business. Like the fact that it consumed your daily thoughts and, more often than not, your entire schedule too. Jieun had hardly had time to eat today, much less celebrate today with an important someone. 

Roses. The ubiquitous symbol for love. Jieun didn’t always like the cliche, but sometimes there was no better fitting flower. In the midst of her sea of orders, she rushed around to pull out a dozen. Jieun quickly arranged them, tying them up with black silk ribbon. The nice thing about roses are they needed no filler or bulk. They were beautiful all on their own. Kind of like the person she was sending them too. 

Jieun tucked a small card with the words “Happy birthday. I love you.” printed neatly on the white background. She handed the bouquet to Johnny, along with the address and a quick hug. Jieun rushed back to get started on the other orders for today, making a mental note to text him when she closed Floralis for the evening. 

Hours later, long after the sun had set, Jieun yawned as she closed the lock on Floralis for the night. Pulling out her phone, she glanced through all the LED notifications before ignoring them all to text him. 

{ txt -> Taemin } Happy birthday. { txt -> Taemin } I’m sorry I wasn’t around today to celebrate it with you { txt -> Taemin } May I make it up to you with late night dinner or dessert?  { txt -> Taemin } Please! 

taemin has no idea how long he’s been sitting on the floor tiles of his kitchen, his head propped against the refrigerator door, his knees bent up to support his elbows in a leisurely fashion. he’d slumped down here in as haphazardly a manner as he ever possibly could, as though all the strength in his body had seeped out of his muscles, out of his bones and his spirit, and he hadn’t been able to regain much of anything for a long while. has it been an hour yet? three hours?

the roses sit atop the counter above him, soft petals and delicate stems laid to rest without much thought. he likes them sure, in the same way he likes everything that’s beautiful and colorful and full of meaning, but it’s this note in his hands, the one he keeps twirling around and around between his fingers, that has all his focus centered around it like a cyclone. his mind is a whirlwind, a rushing in his ears keeping him from being able to re-gather his own coherency. every time he thinks he might be able to pull himself together and think logically about this, he looks down at this paper and rereads it again, and again he is a hurricane.

“happy birthday. i love you.”

i love you.

he can’t even tell whether he’s happy or not, because there is definitely something bright and bursting and yearning blooming in the center of his chest, something that wants to be happy, wants to be fulfilled, wants to believe in ‘ever afters’. such a strong piece inside of his shattered kaleidoscope wants her to say this, longs to hear her say it. but then at the same time, all of that goes directly against everything he had believed himself to be as a brother, it strips him of his loyalty and dedication to one of his oldest friends and strongest bonds. if hades ever finds out… if hades finds out....

if persephone awakens and realizes how zeus has manipulated her, how he’s coaxed her into his world, into his arms, in close enough to make a statement like this…

i love you.

his phone buzzes in his pocket and he pulls it out, his heart immediately catching in his throat. would seeing her help his dilemma? no, but that doesn’t mean he’d say no to her. is she expecting something from this, this declaration, does she want him to say it back? does he think he can?

he glares at the note, wondering why it seems so suddenly flippant, like maybe she was saying ‘happy birthday. i love you, but like as a friend’ or maybe it was cut off too soon like ‘happy birthday, i love your hair.’ it’s not even hand-written or anything, it’s printed out, so maybe he’s making a bigger deal out of it than he ought to be. then again, maybe he’s not.

he’s a mess, he’s just a fucking mess.

[ txt -> anthos ] hey you [ txt -> anthos ] thank you for the flowers [ txt -> anthos ] and the note [ txt -> anthos ] its alright, it’s not a big deal, just another day for me as well lol [ txt -> anthos ] sure.. ok. lets go for a diner somewhere. i can come pick u up, we’ll get some milkshakes

[krxjongkook-blog]

✦ that grey space within

@krtaemin

Looking at the lady seated from across him, Jongkook gave her a polite smile, even though inwardly he absolutely wasn’t into this whole matchmaking thing. It wasn’t the lady’s fault, really. She was a wonderful person, with nice personality and an awesome attitude, but Jongkook hardly thinks she would be the right girl for him. They never do. He had been in quite a few relationships, but ultimately they all never work out because of his job. He spent more time on his job than with them. They didn’t like it, and didn’t understand him. Why waste time when he knew it wouldn’t work out in the end. He was only attending because his mother requested him to, and it would be quite rude to blatantly reject it.

Beside, there was another reason why he wasn’t in the mood. Ever since he had stepped into the restaurant, there was this mixture of raw emotions bubbling in the pit of his stomach that clearly wasn’t his own. A sense of restlessness, irritation and even hostility — and it was getting harder to keep those feelings in check with every passing second. He hadn’t felt so in loss of control since ages ago, when spirit just awoken in him.

He doesn’t even know why the spirit cohabiting inside of him was reacting that way — as if in a defensive state to protect himself and it was all too new of an emotion for him to completely restrain it from overflowing and mixing with his own. He could only guess that someone else with spirit inside of them too was in the restaurant, one that his own didn’t like or had a conflict with.

As much as he would like to get out of the place so that these negative feelings would stop trying to seize him up, he couldn’t. He nodded halfheartedly at what the lady was talking, yet none of her words was registering in his mind. Thinking to himself that maybe he should find a suitable excuse to get them out of there, his gaze flickered over to stage the restaurant had set up when the staff announced the start of the special fire show they had lined up for that day.

[krtaemin]

taemin can’t help it that his god spirit is as strong and intense as it is. housing the king of the gods is heavy enough for a twenty-three-year-old male, universes and millenias worth of knowledge and understanding stuffed into his brain, everything crammed into his head without so much as an explanation—and zeus almost just as upset about it as he is. it takes a lot of effort for taemin to walk with his head held high, even for someone so naturally haughty as he is, and he knows just on instinct that what he carries inside is wider than the room itself could contain—he can almost feel the walls bending, aching, warping ever so minutely around him, as though every footstep weighs a thousand pounds.

he’s just here for the dinner special actually, often coming here on his own when he doesn’t feel like bothering anyone into making him something to eat, and he doesn’t feel like cooking himself. it’s not that he can’t cook, he’d just rather not a lot of the time, finding very little enjoyment out of the exercise. so he attends this little lounge, watches the various displays and stages they like to have perform there sometimes on certain days of the week, usually getting the same booth every time. it’s a nice little getaway for him, some time just to himself, even though he has been thinking lately about bringing a certain wide-eyed young girl here someday soon.

he doesn’t immediately think anything of the performance that begins to take place on stage, save for a few private mental notes about how this performer seems particularly young and inexperienced, but he’s in the middle of eating a steak so he hardly looks up at the kid when he comes over to him with fucking flame-throwers and batons, like he’s from the circus or something. needless to say, taemin doesn’t appreciate and he tries to make that evident in his body language, but none of the hints he’s throwing down are getting picked up on.

it’s the moment just before all hell breaks loose that taemin realizes something is about to go down. call it something like a spidey sense, but there are storm clouds rumbling around the atmosphere outside, lightning sizzling in the air, waiting for the perfect moment of enough entropy to strike. taemin has no defense, he has no shield, he is completely off-guard when this dumbass makes a mess of his own routine, dropping everything he’d been juggling and catching fire to at least two tables, a lady’s hat and taemin suit. chaos erupts.