#Someone could make a Greek gods au fic about this which would be cool

[violent138]

I really see Tim and Damian's relationship as very much like Apollo and Hermes' (see: cattle robbery, bribery, complaining to Dad but ultimately Dad just shrugs and goes, sorry kids you gotta get along).

[luxekook]

bangtan host club ❯ part i

❯ pairing: ot7 x reader

❯ genre: ouran au, college au, crack, smut

❯ summary: when you had decided to take summer lessons at your college, you hadn’t factored in the impending presence of seven insufferably attractive and arrogant boys… the bangtan host club. 

❯ word count: 2.1k

❯ warnings: 18+, cursing, suggestive language, terrible pet names, excessive dramatics

❯ banner by: maggie @kimtaehyunq​

a/n: while this fic is loosely based off of the anime version of ouran highschool host club, it is set in university - meaning that all of the boys are of age (at least 21 years old)

host club members

❯ Kim Namjoon as “Kyoya Ootori” ❯ Kim Seokjin as “Tamaki Suoh” ❯ Min Yoongi as “Takashi ‘Mori’ Morinozuka” ❯ Jung Hoseok as “Mitsukuni ‘Honey’ Haninozuka” ❯ Park Jimin as “Hikaru Hitachiin” ❯ Kim Taehyung as “Kaoru Hitachiin” ❯ Jung Jungkook as “Haruhi Fujioka”

Taking summer classes had never been on my agenda, my studies having been mapped out in detail since the day I arrived on campus three years ago. And then the university’s president suddenly has this utterly groundbreaking epiphany and adjusts the curriculum to “ensure that all students will leave Bangtan University well-rounded”. 

Screw that. My ass is already well-rounded enough, thank you very much.

But despite my best efforts (i.e. begging President Kim to make an exception followed by crafting a petition that gained over ten thousand signatures), I have found that there is no avoiding the dastardly new physical education requirement. And since my schedule for my upcoming senior year has been planned and set for literal years, I’ve been forced to enroll in the sole summer physical education class offered at Bangtan University - Introduction to Weight Lifting.

I wish I was kidding.

To say that I am dreading the start of class tomorrow would be an extreme understatement. I’ll be lucky to escape this summer without physical injury or the loss of my dignity. Athletics have never been my strong suit, and I’ve only entered our campus gym to go to the smoothie bar.

Groaning at just the mere thought of working out and being graded for it, I trek down the streets of outer campus towards the library, swearing under my breath and sweating profusely.

It’s a blazing hot, blue-skied Sunday in July. Typically, I would be lying on a beach somewhere with a drink in my hand, soaking in the warmth of the sun with joy. But instead, here I am, sweltering and desperate for air conditioning after my ancient window unit wheezed its final breath last night. The comfortable chill of the library is my only hope aside from my landlord who promised to fix my air conditioning by tomorrow.

My frustration builds as I turn onto the block lined with imposing and picturesque estates in which the upper echelon of Bangtan University resides. I’d bet the very last ice-pack in my freezer that these houses have unfailing central air.

I pick up my pace, worn Doc Marten platform sandals slapping against the hot pavement. The pristine mansions seem to mock my distress as they exude the coolness of unbothered wealth. Despite there being no Greek life here at Bangtan University, the lack of letters emblazoned on the numerous estates I pass does not symbolize a lack of status. 

This block is home to the athletic teams who throw massive parties whenever they happen to be in the off-season. It’s also home to the legacy clubs - the exclusive groups of current students who are relatives of past alumni.

And last but not least, this block is home to the infamous Bangtan Host Club, a small group of idle rich boys with exceptionally good looks and a penchant for entertaining. 

The aforementioned group’s house comes into view as I draw nearer to campus. The host club’s mansion sits on the corner lot right across the street from campus. Typically, students are wary of such proximity - but not those boys. No, they’re un-phased, throwing massive parties every weekend without fail and without repercussion.

During my first semester, I had been confused as to why their parties had never been shut down; but now I know better. The host club’s president Kim Seokjin is the son of none other than the fucking president of the university - the very same man who damned me to my weight lifting fate.

In fact, almost the entire host club is related to someone with influence - either at the university or within the surrounding community. The only exception to the wealth factor is Jeon Jungkook, who attends Bangtan University on a scholarship not unlike myself.

About 99% of the university are host club stans. As for me? I don’t subscribe to that bullshit. And I do mean literally ‘subscribe’. They have newsletters, merch and everything. I would say I don’t understand it at all, but a small part of me does.

They’re fucking gorgeous. Like I’m talking Tom Ford at New York Fashion Week gorgeous. Armani catalogue centerfold gorgeous. Goddamn Sports Illustrated Men’s Swimsuit Edition gorgeous. 

In fact, I’m pretty sure Kim Seokjin actually does model in his spare time. With his long limbs, broad shoulders and pillowy lips, Seokjin certainly has the features for it. My freshman year roommate bought so many posters of Seokjin from the host club’s merch website I think I could identify him from a hundred yards away in the dark. 

“Hey!” The bellow emanates from the porch of the host club’s house and jolts me from my memories, “Hey, princess!”

I let out a snort. Whoever that pet name is directed at needs to shut that down immediately. I mean, ‘princess’? In this economy? Please. I need off this block ASAP.

“Hello? I’m talking to you, angel!” 

The voice sounds closer now, and my eyes squeeze shut. Oh god, this person cannot be talking to me, can they?

Princess? Angel?

The sheer absurdity pushes me onward, and I do not spare a single glance in the direction where the inane greetings originated. Alas, I barely make it two feet before a tall figure screeches to a halt in front of me, panting like he had just run a marathon. 

I blink as I take in the very boy who just crossed my mind a minute earlier. Kim Seokjin looms over me, chest heaving and smile gleaming.

“Cupcake, hello!” his smile grows wider, “Why didn’t you answer me? I was talking to you.”

My brain is trying to wrap itself around the unfathomable phenomenon I’m currently witnessing. The host club president is beaming down at me like I’m the last custom Rolex ever made. His white t-shirt that probably costs more than my rent stretches across his shoulders in a way that has to be illegal. 

A bead of sweat drips down my back between my shoulder blades. I don’t have time for this attractive detour; I only have time for a long sip of iced water and a seat under an air conditioning vent somewhere deep within the recesses of the quiet library.

“Were you?” I shrug, looking over his illegally broad shoulder and plotting my escape, “I didn’t realize, considering my name isn’t princess, angel or cupcake.”

I inwardly cringe at my tone. I have a tendency to be irritable when the weather is hot, and it seems like today is no exception.

Seokjin stares down at me, his cocky expression wavering for a split second before snapping back into place. “Well, tell me your name then, sunshine, so that I may cordially invite you to the host club’s latest summer extravaganza!” His dark brown eyes sparkle as he remains seemingly impervious to my building ire, beaming down at me.

“No, thank you,” I shake my head decisively and attempt to sidestep around him. 

None of my friends are on campus for the summer, and there is no way I'm going alone to a party full of strangers. That just screams bad decisions, just like the time I willingly ate the dining hall’s “Mystery Meat Special” during my second semester.

Seokjin cuts off my path yet again, and my scowl intensifies as I glare up at him, “Could you move, please?”

Seokjin gapes back at me, “D-don’t you want to come to our party?” I stare at him with eyebrows raised. He continues at a higher decibel, “Don’t you know who I am?”

The nerve of this boy. My eyes scrunch shut as I send a quick plea to anyone out there in the universe to send me patience and then internally count backwards from ten. 

“Yes, I know who you are, Kim,” I finally say, completely exasperated, “And no, I still don’t want to go to your party.”

Seokjin is gobsmacked, looking like he’s seen a ghost as he stands before me open-mouthed. For a second, I allow myself to indulge one more time in his attractiveness, my eyes wandering along his toned torso, his muscular arms, his high cheekbones, his messy brown hair. 

And then he bounces back, snapping his fingers, “Aha! I know what this is. You’re playing hard to get! Okay, I can play along with you, sunshine.”

It’s my turn to gape at him this time, watching as he mumbles to himself about how I must want him to beg for me and how he would just love to do so. I’m about to put a stop to this madness when he spreads his arms wide and announces loud enough for the entire block to hear, “Sunshine, please, attend our party! My heart longs for your presence, and I will only be happy if I can have your arm in mine next Friday night...”

I’m honestly beginning to worry about the boy in front of me. Is he completely unhinged? Am I being Punk’d right now? 

Seokjin prattles on, “So, my sun, my moon, my stars, will you please do me the honor of joining me for a night of fun courtesy of the host club? No guest has yet to be disappointed and—!”

I finally just reach up and cover his mouth with my palm, steadfastly ignoring how plush his lips feel against my skin. “Kim Seokjin!” I hiss, “I promise I am not playing hard to get. I simply do not want to go to your party. Now, please, for the love of god, let me walk by you in peace.”

Loud bursts of laughter sound immediately after I finish speaking, and I whip around to locate the source. Two boys jog over to where Seokjin and I are standing on the pavement. Their laughter doesn’t subside with their approach. If anything, it grows louder.

“Oh, come on, pres,” the pink-haired boy who I know to be Park Jimin jeers, his melodic giggles punctuating each word. “Is this how you plan on handling your first rejection?”

My eyebrows pull together in confusion as I turn to face Seokjin, only to find him lying dramatically on the lawn in front of his house with one arm throw over his face.

“Go away, Jimin,” Seokjin groans, ripping out a handful of grass and throwing it at the other boy. Obviously, he doesn't calculate for the wind and sputters when the grass blows back in his face.

“Boss, you’ve really hit a new low,” the blue-haired boy - Kim Taehyung - grins as he looks back and forth between me and the over-the-top performance happening on the lawn. All Seokjin does in return is flip Taehyung off, seeming to have learned from his grass-throwing lesson.

Well, there’s no need for me to stay a second longer within this realm of crazy.

I turn on my heel and head off towards the library, renewed in my desperation for the relief of blissfully cold air.

Alas, I don’t get too far before the two boys with colorful hair are in front of me - each with an arm thrown over the other’s shoulders. 

“Well, well, well… I must say,” Taehyung drawls.

“You’re quite an intriguing little thing,” Jimin cocks his head, looking me up and down. I try in vain to steel myself against the heated assessments both boys are giving me.

I’d heard a lot about these two - most of it being completely outlandish and borderline unbelievable. Do they really do everything together?

It’s as if that thought is written all over my face as the smirks grow on the faces of Jimin and Taehyung. “If you don’t want to come to our party for Jin-hyung…”

“Will you come for us?” Taehyung finishes Jimin’s thought, and I am almost certain that he intended for that question to be as suggestive as it sounded.

Before I can even attempt to answer, Seokjin launches up from the ground and barges in between the two boys. “Yah! That is no way to speak to a lady! Have I taught you nothing? Don’t you fools remember lesson number fifty-two on being a good host?”

“We didn’t say anything inappropriate, pres,” Taehyung shrugs, looking pleased with how riled up the older boy is growing. His pink-haired counterpart grins, “If anything, you’re the one with the dirty mind, twisting our innocent words into such filth.”

It’s as if Seokjin is struck by lightning - his shock turning him pale as a ghost before the redness overtakes him. I cannot tell if it’s due to embarrassment or anger. All I know is that I need to bounce.

When Mt. Seokjin finally erupts, I slink away and practically jog across the street to campus. Ah, free at last...

a/n: this is part one in my host club series! originally i was going to make this a giant one-shot but i figured i would just break it up into smaller pieces so that i could get some content out uwu

© luxekook do not repost, edit or translate

[fullsuuns]

true blue | n.jm

pairing: jaemin x fem. reader

genre: angst, fluff

wordcount: 6.4k

tags: camphalfblood!au, forbiddenlove!au, demigod!jaemin, mermaid!reader, jaemin is son of poseidon in this, it’s also told in jaemin’s pov

warnings: none

synopsis: in which na jaemin finds out he’s more gifted than he initially thought and also takes the risk of falling in love with a mermaid.

song rec♫: neptune - sleeping at last (highly rec this song as it alone inspired this entire fic)

na jaemin had always been a lover of water.

growing up in busan, he always felt inexplicably drawn to the ocean. be it the way the water always felt refreshing to the touch and would instantly clear his head, or how the tadpoles would dance around his toes when he dipped his feet in, he didn’t know. all he did know was that he adored it.

maybe it had been the initial reason he’d joined his highschool’s swim team during his senior year. something about diving straight into water and moving his body in a way that almost felt like second nature to him. getting praised for doing so was just another factor in what drove him to spend more time at the school’s pool than, quite literally, anywhere else. though in his last year, jaemin quickly became a commended athlete for his extraordinary talent.

what other people didn’t know, especially his classmates and his coach, is that na jaemin could do something with water — something that he was sure other people couldn’t. at first, jaemin told himself it wasn’t anything out of the ordinary; that making the water ripple beneath him without even pressing his palm to the surface wasn’t odd.

except it was — that was what he soon realized.

of course, making water move didn’t seem like a big deal; jaemin would reassure himself that it was most likely due to the pressure coming from the pool’s installed filtering jets. everything seemed fine as jaemin dove into the body of water. he hadn’t noticed the pretty bad scrape on his arm, either — and from what? he didn’t even know.

when jaemin had surfaced, his eyes caught the slight discoloration to his submerged skin almost immediately. he brought his arm up and out, water sloshing around him as his eyes inspected the scrape. the wound looked pretty gruesome under the white light, the harsh lighting of the natatorium almost making it appear worse than it probably was.

he was about to just let it be, swim a few more laps — at least that was the plan until he saw water creep its way up his arm. several streams ran over the wound, collectively healing and sealing the scrape up. now in its place was nothing but unblemished skin, as if nothing had ever happened.

jaemin was shocked. his mouth had hung wide open, eyes almost bulging out of his skull as they drank in his now seemingly perfect forearm. he was quick to dart his eyes for his surroundings, hoping no one had witnessed what exactly had just happened. there were various students, all a part of the water polo team, but they were all too busy with setting up equipment to notice jaemin’s situation. he was thankful.

he swam to the edge of the pool after that. he pushed himself up, gushes of water splashing around him as he exited. jaemin power-walked to the locker room, wishing that whatever he’d seen was just a figment of his imagination and that it never actually occurred. he didn’t spare his arm another glance for confirmation, choosing to ignore the incident for his own sanity.

nothing intense had happened since that day, and jaemin had graduated from highschool peacefully. of course, the swim team’s ace had been scouted by big universities, but jaemin had already been set on dropping swim after the pool incident, so he politely turned each one down. (each agent had looked at him incredulously, but jaemin just smiled humbly, thanking them before parting ways.)

the summer after his senior year of highschool had been pretty boring. several hours into the night for various nights in a row, jaemin played call of duty with his friends donghyuck and jongho. he was sure that he even developed eyebags, but ignored the mirror every time he stepped into the bathroom. cold showers always fueled to restore his energy almost completely, keeping him going despite donghyuck’s whines that they didn’t do anything. jaemin would tease that the brunet simply just wasn’t as cool as him.

one day, jaemin had decided to pick up the mail that arrived at his mother’s house just so that she didn’t have to. he was surprised to see a handwritten letter addressed to him, even going as far as having a wax seal on the back. jaemin had dropped the rest of the mail pile onto the kitchen table instead, focused on prying the single envelope with the hard-to-budge seal open.

the letter wasn’t anything fancy, really, but it hadn’t been written in korean. initially, it was written in a language jaemin couldn’t decipher — or at least that’s what he thought until the characters started to float and move around right before his eyes. out of shock, jaemin dropped the letter and envelope to the floor. he’d squeezed his eyes shut, spewing mantras of it’s just the redbull, it’s just the redbull.

jaemin eyed it for a while, the crinkled cream paper unmoving in all its glory. his mother still hadn’t gotten back from work, so it was just him in their house. still, jaemin refused to pick up the letter for five more minutes.

he should’ve known that that had been the start of it all; that it’d be the inevitable start of na jaemin finding out he had magical blood running through his veins.

he simply ridiculed the idea, ridiculed the letter in its entirety until his mother had gotten home that one fateful day only two weeks ago. she’d told him that it was all true — about how jaemin was a descendant of the all-mighty poseidon, god of the seas, and that he was a lot more gifted than he thought possible.

he wanted to cry, laugh, maybe even scream, because he desperately wanted to be told it was a joke. still, the memory of his mother only looking at him with serious, unplayful eyes bore itself into his mind. in that moment, fourteen days ago, jaemin knew that it was true — knew that that was the reasoning behind why he was always different.

na jaemin didn’t want to believe it. he still wanted to be in unnerving denial, even as his mother drove him to what she said was the boundary line that connected the human world to the gifted world. even when their car had stopped at a clearing and she had exited the vehicle, she still motioned jaemin’s figure out.

“i can’t go beyond here, jaemin. you have to go on your own.” she told him when he finally stepped up to her.

“but why?” he asked. jaemin didn’t want to admit it, but his heart was beating sporadically beneath his chest at the thought of having to do this alone.

“i’m not like you, jaemin. you must go on your own and figure out your destiny.”

she’d given him a hug, promising she’d call him. jaemin wanted so badly for her to tell him this wasn’t what was actually happening, that it was some planned-out prank that would land them both on television and get them thousands of dollars, but he knew it wasn’t in his mother’s nature to pull something like this.

as he stepped deeper into the forest with backpack on his shoulders, jaemin looked back to see his mother wave at him. he waved back, a wistful look crossing his features momentarily as he stared at her. with a newfound sense of bravery, and one last look at the woman who raised him for twenty years of his life, jaemin turned back around and ventured farther into the forest, leaves crunching beneath his boots as he searched for whatever it was exactly that awaited him.

jaemin was surprised, shocked, flabbergasted to see that whatever his mother had told him about actually turned out to be true. forty minutes into his walk, and with the sun threatening to set, jaemin reached a clearing.

it greets him in the form of tall, wooden trunks that are formed to create a singular entrance. above it, greek lettering rearranges itself into korean before jaemin’s eyes (just like they had on the letter), and soon, camp halfblood is sprawled over the wood.

he didn’t know exactly what to do from then on. jaemin heard a yell being shouted from inside the open territory, and someone was quick to jog up to him.

“new comer?” the person asked. he looked to be around his age: black hair, youthful brown eyes, and a similar build to jaemin.

he nodded, albeit a little cautiously.

“i’m jeno,” the raven said, grinning, “son of ares, god of war.”

“i’m jaemin.” he greeted. “son of poseidon, i think? at least that’s what i was told.”

jeno’s eyes widened, marveling at him. “no way, poseidon?”

jaemin only nodded again, more confident this time.

safe to say, it took jaemin a while to get used to his new life. word of the one and only poseidon’s son was quick to spread around the camp — or at least that’s what he assumed, because only two days had passed before he’d found out everyone knew of him.

with jeno teaching him battle techniques and all about camp life, jaemin grew grateful at the chance to be given a friend in his new life. of course, there were still times that he missed his old ones.

(he’d told donghyuck and his other closest friends that he’d be away on an internship in the united states for some time, and that his cellphone service wouldn’t allow for international calls or texts. it was a lie, but it seemed believable enough that they didn’t question him.)

jaemin was lucky to reach his mother on the phone the night he’d first arrived at the place two weeks ago. he informed her that he’d gotten to camp safely, that he’d even met a new friend, and she’d been relieved. his mother told him to stay safe and to call her more often, to which he agreed he would do.

more time passed, and jaemin had met more friends: renjun, son of athena, chenle, son of hermes, and jisung, son of demeter. they were all nice boys, despite their initial gawking at finding out that jaemin was a direct descendant from poseidon himself. although the shock was there at first, they were quick to dismiss it in favor of treating him normally — or as normally as demigods could treat eachother — and jaemin was grateful for it.

he’d even gotten his own cabin — a gift from his father — chiron, head of camp, told him. it was a grand cabin constructed close to the edge of camp, away from any and all others (jaemin was happy to learn that) as it overlooked the vast ocean it connected to. over time, jaemin grew to love visiting his dock in favor of clearing his head. the water around him felt like home, and it still served to calm him and keep him peaceful when he was conflicted.

jaemin would visit the dock several times a week just to get a sense of grounding. there were times he would play with the water beneath him, ghosting his palms over the surface to practice creating ripples. the fish that swam under the water were always spooked.

it’d been two months later that something truly happened, something that he never expected to see — or, well, hear.

jaemin thought it would be just another ordinary thursday, except that idea changed when he heard faint groans of pain from behind the giant boulder to his right.

he knew that the rock was beyond the boundary line that separated the camp from the outside world, but jaemin always pinged himself as the curious type. he was quick to round the rock, wanting to figure out what exactly had been making noise.

he didn’t know what he expected, but he certainly didn’t expect to see you laying a ways away from the ocean, tear streaks on your face as you distinctly cried out in pain.

jaemin was quick to rush over.

“oh my god, are you okay?” he asked, panic in his voice as he knelt down next to you.

your tail shimmered under the sunlight, and jaemin was sure he knew what you were. he’d read about creatures like you all his life. he thought mermaids would just be folklore, imaginary. he didn’t believe them to be real at first, but jaemin had also found out he was a demigod so he wasn’t exactly sure about what was real or not anymore.

you definitely seem to be real, at least that’s what jaemin thought to himself.

he was refocused by the time he heard a whimper escape your lips, fear evident in your eyes as you tried to shimmy away from him. with your attempts being fruitless, jaemin’s heart ached momentarily when you lifted your tail only to wail in agony.

“it’s okay,” he assured. jaemin brought his hands forward to show you that he hadn’t been holding a weapon. “i won’t hurt you. what’s wrong? i want to help you.”

you bite your lip. your voice is quiet, yet almost melodical to him when you speak. “my tail. it’s my tail. i can’t - i can’t move. it hurts too much.”

jaemin looked down to see what you were talking about. sure enough, he saw several gashes lining the ends of your tail, some chunks to your fin even ripped off.

his eyebrows knit in sorrow, worry. “who would do this to you?”

he didn’t expect a response, it’d been more of a rhetorical question that he’d wondered to himself. still, he heard your quiet answer. “fishers.”

jaemin looked back at you, smiling in hopes that it could be enough to soothe you down a bit. he didn’t miss the way your irises still held traces of caution and fear, but he was quick to reassure you.

“don’t worry, just let me do something real quick. i promise you’re safe, i won’t even touch you. just let me help. can i help you?”

he waited for you to nod, for you to give him permission to help you. hesitantly, you did so.

you were still a close enough distance to the ocean that the water came alive at jaemin’s command when he held his hand out. he looked to you for any sign of discomfort, letting his tensed shoulders go lax when he only found twinkles of surprise and curiosity in your eyes. jaemin didn’t let the water get swallowed by the sand as it trailed up to you. he directed his palm towards your tail, the water running over the broken fin of your tail.

what happened next made you gasp and jaemin grin. the water was slowly beginning to mend your tail, restoring the previously broken off ends with new, healthier ones out of thin air. by the time your tail was repaired, and you had flapped it experimentally, you cried out in happiness.

“no way! no way, my tail!” you give it another flick, just for good measure. “it’s back!”

jaemin saw the grin on your face, saw the way your eyes shone so brightly, and he had to admit that it served to bring a smile to his lips.

that had been jaemin’s first encounter with you.

two weeks had passed.

jaemin was sure he’d never see you again after that, telling himself you’d most likely never come back a second time. he didn’t tell anyone of his encounter with you; hadn’t mentioned anything about mermaids to anyone. still, two weeks passed and he couldn’t get you out of his head, because simply to him, you were the kind of ethereal beauty beyond those descended from the aphrodite herself.

he’d been seated at his cabin’s dock again. the water was calm, nothing but the faint chitter-chatter from camp the only sound that could be heard. in his silence, jaemin constantly found himself wondering if you would ever come back, if he’d ever cross paths with you again as he dug into his pocket for a stray coin. he threw it into the ocean, watching it leap for several seconds before sinking below the surface.

he let out a sigh.

“maybe something like that was too good to be true,” jaemin spoke to himself. “silly me.”

except, jaemin was quick to turn his head when he felt something hit his bicep. looking down, he saw that what he’d been hit with was a singular pebble — round and smooth and definitely hand-picked. he chose to ignore it, telling himself it could’ve just been a coincidence. then he felt another hard collision to his arm.

he turned faster this time, eyes fleeting as they scoured for location of the source. the top of a head behind a boulder caught his gaze. it disappeared almost instantly, but jaemin knew he saw it. a tiny spark of hopefulness was quick to rise within him when he realized that that had been the rock he’d previously seen you behind.

jaemin got up to his feet, grabbing the small yet striking pebble in his hand. he’d looked over his shoulder, made sure no one saw him crossing over the boundary before he made his way over to the boulder.

jaemin reached the top of the rock soon enough, sitting down as he waited for you to come out. he’d purposely tip-toed so as to not let alert you that he was approaching, and it’d worked as he heard a shriek from you once you made another appearance. the surprise of it had you falling back into the water, in turn making jaemin both laugh and clap his hands in amusement.

he grinned teasingly at you, holding up the pebble next to him. though he wasn’t happy about you throwing stones at him, he was ecstatic to learn that you came back. “is there a reason you’re throwing rocks at me?”

jaemin watched you emerge from the ocean in all of your radiance. he took note that from under the clear water, your tail was fine now, no longer needing care. he also took note that your hair was still pretty despite it being stuck to your wet body, and that you had a mesh bag tied to your wrist.

“yes, actually,” you answered, laughing. your eyelashes fluttered extra prettily against your cheeks when you brought the bag up to him, and jaemin was completely enraptured. “i want to thank you for helping me.”

“you don’t have to thank me,” jaemin said. “but i’d love to know your name.”

“y/n,” oh how beautiful your voice was to him. “and you, my savior?”

a smile prodded at jaemin’s lips. “y/n,” he echoed, testing your name on his tongue. he loved it. “i’m jaemin, na jaemin.”

“jaemin,” you had repeated with a giggle, swishing the bag around in your hands. it was so, so easy for him to be intrigued by you. “i’ve brought you seashells as a gift.”

his heart had fluttered when you placed the mesh bag of trinkets into his palms, various seashells moving around in his grip. the bag was wet. droplets poured down onto jaemin’s jeans, but he found that he didn’t mind. not when you gave him a bright, beautiful grin that had his breath hitching.

that was his second encounter with you.

it wasn’t long before jaemin really, truly started to fall for you. every friday, he’d meet you at the same rock just outside of the boundary line after duties at 3p.m — or, well, when the ocean’s current direction shifted for you (he came to figure out that mermaids simply didn’t calculate time). still, these were the days he awaited most.

he’d share stories upon stories with you about both his camp life and human life. he grew fond of how you attentively drank up every detail from every story he shared with wide, beautiful eyes. you, too, shared counts of your life at sea, though they were more dark if anything.

jaemin’s eyebrows furrowed when he heard of how your kind was hunted, sought after for your fins. you’d told him about how they were magical in the sense that they were able to heal the weak and restore them back to full health. jaemin now understood why you had been so scared the first time he saw you. though he smiled at you reassuringly, his heart broke beneath the surface.

jaemin had grabbed your hand, interlocking your fingers together with a whispered promise. “i’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

no one knew of jaemin sneaking out beyond campgrounds to meet you. no one even knew that he was sneaking out in the first place until two months in.

jaemin was careful enough to not let anyone see you, always hiding you away from the direct line of sight from camp just had something go wrong.

nothing ever did, at least until that one friday.

he’d been perched at his usual spot on the boulder, sitting cross-legged with you in front of him, your top half emerged enough from the water so that he could place his lips on yours. there was nothing but the ocean and the forest around you, a calm serene setting for when he would kiss you under the shade of the giant camp tree.

jaemin held your hand out, your palm facing towards the sky. you’d giggled, asking him what he was doing, to which he only shushed you with another kiss to your lips. he had to pull away when you placed your free hand on his cheek, deepening it ever so slightly.

“sneaky sneaky.” jaemin tsk’d.

you hummed, tongue darting out across your lips. “nice chapstick. is that cherry?”

“yes it is,” he answered. “now hush, i’m trying to show you something.”

he returned to drawing a figure on your skin, connecting your palm to his right after. your eyes glimmered as you watched in awe, eyes trained on the watered silhouette of a seahorse that floated between both you and jaemin.

“wow, it’s - wow, jaemin. that’s amazing.”

jaemin’s heart thumped from beneath his chest, as it always did each and every time you smiled at him. you tapped an index finger at the floating water, yelping when some of it ran down your arm and back into the ocean. you were shocked at first, but quick to let out a sweet laugh right after. jaemin was happy to see you happy. jaemin was happy that he could make you happy.

maybe he’d been too caught up in you — too caught up in the melodical beauty of your laugh to notice anything unusual. his eyebrows furrowed when he saw your eyes settle on something behind him, the deep pools of your irises growing the same fearful look they had when he first met you, and a panic arose within him. you didn’t say anything as your eyes met his, but you were quick to duck back into the water. jaemin watched you swim away below the ocean with a weak and confused heart.

that’s when he heard it.

the faint, distant call of a camper.

jaemin visibly tensed, his jaw hardening and back straightening at the intrusion. the water that he’d controlled, now fallen, served to create a damp spot on the rock. his eyes scoured the ocean, but he saw no trace of you anywhere. he’d hoped that whoever was calling for him didn’t actually see you.

with a heavy sigh, he turned around to face the random camper — someone he’d never even seen before. still, jaemin tried to muster the best fakest smile that he could account for, even when his blood simmered. the intruder only looked at him warily before turning away, scurrying back to camp.

he was now left alone with nothing but the ocean around him. the sun had almost set, glow peaking just enough from behind the mountains, and that’s when jaemin realized just how fast time would pass when he was with you. sometimes, there were fridays where he would return to camp after darkness had grown, after spending hours talking to you about nothing and everything all at once, but he never once regretted one of those days.

a few days later, jaemin thinks word got out to chiron that he’d been sneaking past the boundary line, because soon he gets summoned into the centaur’s office for what he presumes is that very reason. the place smells of smoke upon his arrival, and the cabin has a surplus of antiques from olympus that decorate the interior. it’s nowhere near as elegantly built as his own cabin; jaemin thought this as he watched the crackling fire from the fireplace. he pushed that down when his wandering thoughts were interrupted by the rough clear of a throat.

chiron is stoic with his gaze, but jaemin is unphased. if he was really here for what he thought he was here for, he didn’t care.

“i hear you’ve been sneaking out of camp.” ah, so jaemin’s assumptions were proven correct. there was a disapproving lilt in the centaur’s tone that made jaemin almost flinch. “to converse with a mermaid?”

jaemin knew he couldn’t lie to weasel himself out of this situation — it simply wouldn’t do him any good when everyone already knew anyway. he’d had the feeling that the camper he’d seen would tell someone as soon as he returned back to camp, but jaemin didn’t care in that moment. he’d been too caught up in feeling distraught over your untimely goodbye to think about the probability of his secret getting out.

he just sighed. “yes, i have.”

except chiron already knew.

“do you know the danger that outside creatures could impose on our kind?” he berated. “that boundary is put in place to keep us safe, keep us away from the danger that the outside world brings. i will not have you stepping outside of that field again - for a pesky mermaid much less.”

jaemin felt his blood boil at the words, at the way the centaur spoke of you so unnervingly. his hackles raised in defense, eyes unsparing as he spoke with a tone full of venom. “do you know who i am?”

chiron must have been taken aback, because surely he hadn’t expected jaemin to challenge him so outwardly.

jaemin continued. “i’m son of poseidon, god of the seas, and unless you want this entire place flooded by the ocean’s water, you’re going to leave me alone, and you’re going to leave her alone. i can handle things on my own.”

he didn’t spare the centaur another word nor did he allow him to respond. instead, jaemin rose from the desk he’d been leaning on, storming out of the cabin and halfway across camp towards his own.

jaemin meant it when he said he wouldn’t let anyone hurt you again. he loved you too much to let anything bad happen to you.

the week that followed was too tense. jaemin hadn’t spoken to his friends in a while. he told jeno he needed alone time, needed to think — to which the raven assured him to take as much time as he needed. by then, everyone knew that na jaemin was seemingly in love with a mermaid, as gossip about those descended from the most powerful of gods always spread like wildfire. he didn’t mind it though, maybe that would get aphrodite’s daughters off his back for once.

the next friday was quick to come.

that entire morning, jaemin had buzzed to see you. he’d missed your eyes, your voice, your lips, and positively everything about you that he grew to adore in so little time. he wanted to speak to you again, to make you laugh again, and to get the chance to kiss you again.

he’d arrived at your spot that evening, your favorite flower freshly picked in his hand. he even went as far as to truly making sure no one had followed him this time by coming out earlier than he usually did.

jaemin waited, and waited, and waited. there was no sign of you anywhere; no breathtaking glimmer of your tail under the translucent water as you swam around him, no teasing splash as you coaxed him into getting in with you, and certainly no familiar ripple as you got ready to emerge from under the ocean.

he waited. but you never came.

jaemin realized he’d been sat there for hours when he saw the ever fading sun begin to hide itself behind the mountains. they’re the same hours he would spend with you, but the time that passed now left him sluggish without your vibrant presence.

still, he didn’t move. he refused to until the day turned into night.

hours later, the sun got replaced by the moon — the subsequent result of time that had passed.

jaemin soon gave up. he figured you’d come another day, and it was left at that.

except with every trudging step back to his cabin, his heart ultimately cracked. the now droopy flower in his hand mirrored the sorrow he felt when he placed it on the nightstand next to his bed, a lone petal falling. he’d been ready to see you again, been ready to give it to you (jaemin remembered that vague memory of you telling him of your favorite flower weeks ago, and he wanted to see that familiar sparkle of delight light up your eyes — simply because he adored it too much).

unable to sleep, jaemin laid awake for some time that night, staring up at the wooden ceiling of his cabin. when he did manage to feel sleepy, eyes fatigued, he closed them with one thought plaguing his mind: he didn’t know where you were, but he really, really hoped you were safe.

jaemin didn’t give up.

instead, he opted to visit your same meeting spot every day after he finished daily training, hoping you’d come back to him at some point. at times, he would bring his ipod and play your favorite song — a song you’d told him stuck with you from a passing cruise ship. you sang the lyrics so prettily, and though tranced, jaemin still managed to jot them down on a piece of paper so that he would have it by the next time you two met up.

he grew to miss you more and more with every passing hour he spent by the unmoving water. he found himself missing the way your eyes would crinkle when he cupped your face to press chaste kisses to your lips, and how you would laugh into his mouth each time. jaemin was sure he hadn’t felt this way about another being before, and he told himself he’d rather walk through the gates of hell than let you go like this.

so jaemin waited. patiently.

another two weeks passed, yet he still came back each day.

it’d been two fridays since jaemin had last seen you. time felt still when he sat on the rock, but he found entertainment in watching voyagers travel from a distance. he noted that the clouds were gloomier today, a sort of overcast that almost threatened to storm against his surroundings, but jaemin didn’t pay it much mind other than that. instead, he found serenity in closing his eyes, and favored listening to the sounds of nature around him.

jaemin first felt a splash hit his left hand, but excused it as just a random ocean wave that’d gotten a little too powerful (those weren’t all too uncommon, especially when a rainstorm was near). with his eyes still closed, jaemin breathed deeply, ears twitching only when he heard the faint chirp of birds behind him.

there was another splash a few seconds later, though this time it’d been undoubtedly bigger than the last. jaemin peered one eye open when he felt both of his arms get drenched, the water now drenching his lap.

safe to say, his mouth dropped open in surprise. a soft gasp followed when he saw you floating in front of him, in all of your divine radiance. your hair was soaked, sticking to your body. droplets of accumulated water had decorated your flushed cheeks, your eyelashes wet with saltwater. still, you looked as gorgeous as you always had to jaemin — maybe even more this time.

he didn’t know how to react — didn’t know if you were actually truly in front of him. he’d waited countless hours for you to return back to him, return to your spot, yet he never expected to see you so abruptly like this.

you opened your mouth to speak, but jaemin had beaten you to it.

“y/n?” he asked almost incredulously. “is it - is it really you? are you really here right now?”

you only nodded.

a grin was quick to plaster itself across jaemin’s face, soon falling when he noticed yours didn’t mirror the same excitement. instead, he took in your sad eyes, the familiar spark that would shine beneath your irises no longer visible. he was confused; sadness was something jaemin had never seen from you.

“what’s wrong?”

“jaemin, i -” your voice sounded distressed, breaking before you could even say anything else. jaemin tried to reach out for you, to comfort you, but you pulled away from him in time so that he couldn’t touch your face. hurt panged at his heart instantly, and he was sure the confusion was evident on his face.

you gulped. “we can’t be together, jaemin.”

it took a second for your words to register, but when they had, they felt like a painful punch to his throat, and jaemin’s heart metaphorically plummeted to his feet.

he recoiled, bringing his arms back to his body. many different emotions swim through him all at once, unsure of how to feel exactly. he looked at your face for any signs of bluff, but was only met with sad, unmoving eyes.

“what? y/n, what? why?” his voice cracked, words laced with distress.

he watched your eyes well up with tears, and his heart continued to break. above the both of you, the sky grew darker, a flurry of clouds passing over the sky rapidly quicker than they ever had before.

you cleared your throat. “we can’t be together, jaem. we’re from two different worlds, and i don’t want you to end up hurt because of me. i - i don’t want that. so you have to let me go. you have to. i just want you to know that i love you and i’m so thankful for you, and i’m so, so sorry that i had to do stumble into your life.”

jaemin wanted to reassure you that you were all he ever wanted — all he ever needed as he heard you babble. he opened his mouth to speak, wanting so badly to console you, but was quick to get interrupted by a loud roar of thunder.

water came shortly after. it poured heavily around the two of you as the atmosphere thickened. jaemin felt his hair get damp, his clothes growing heavy with rain, but he was completely unphased by it when he looked at you — looked at who he fell in love with.

he watched you look up to the sky, felt his eyes begin to water.

“i have to go now. zeus knows i’m here, and he’s not happy,” your voice was distraught as another heavy clap sounded through the sky. the sound made you jolt. “i won’t forget the time i spent with you, na jaemin. thank you for - for showing me your world. and telling me your stories. and loving me as i am. i love you, i’ll truly never forget you, but i have to go.”

jaemin wanted to cry in confusion. he didn’t want to say goodbye. he’d waited too long just to see you again.

tears poured down his face rapidly as he shook his head in denial, begging you to not leave. he reached out his hand to your submerging figure, crying out when you retreated back into the water and swam away with nothing but a final glance at him.

jaemin cried for who knows how long, uncaring of the rain as it pelted his body. the usually refreshing feeling of water no longer served the same purpose at calming him. instead, his body wracked with countless sobs — crying because he missed you, crying because he waited so long just to hear your voice, and crying because he wasn’t sure if he’d ever see you again.

all the other times that jaemin didn’t want to leave this spot felt incomparable to how rooted he felt to the rock in that moment. the sun was gone by then, and jaemin had cried his heart out so much in those hours that his eyes turned puffy and his mouth was parched from dehydration. he didn’t move, couldn’t move when he heard a voice call to him. he didn’t budge, even when he felt a firm hand drop to his shoulder.

jeno sat next to him, silently looking out at the ocean. he, too, ignored the pouring rain.

“i’m sorry, jaemin.” he consoled. jaemin was thankful there was some sort of apologetic tone to his words, it was nice to know someone felt sympathy for him. “maybe it was for the best.”

tears were fresh again as they brimmed behind his eyes. he let them fall.

“i loved her - god, i loved her so much.” the words were strained, tension raw in his throat, but he still managed to choke them out.

“i know she loved you too.”

weeks went by at a slow pace, and jaemin wasn’t any better. he’d still sneak out and visit the ocean sometimes, visit your rock, even when he knew you wouldn’t return a second time. he’d speak to the body of water as if you were there, as if you were in front of him once again. more often than not, jaemin would just cry.

camp isn’t any better from then on; he didn’t find joy in anything anymore. when he wasn’t at the ocean, he spent most of his time in his cabin, crying and reminiscing fond memories he experienced with you. his friends checked up on him every once in a while, but nothing seemed to mend the brokenness of his heart.

he’d heard talk around camp of ongoing sea complications in korea, especially back home in busan. everyone had been confused as to why it happened so suddenly, but jaemin knew. he knew that he was the one causing the sea levels to rise, and in turn, making water travel farther up the city beaches. jaemin couldn’t bring himself to care, though, because he had lost the one thing he cared about most.

jaemin couldn’t bring himself to care because he had lost you.

[tommysparker]

Man In Leather

Harrison Osterfield x Fem!Reader

A/N: Woah, two fics in a row? Crazy I know. Anyways, here is the LONG awaited fic! I’m sorry it took so long to write, but here it is. Black&White CH.2 will be the main focus of my writing until I get it done, so stay tuned for whenever the hell that comes out. Till then, enjoy :)

Warnings: smut, couple no-no words, Harrison going commando in leather pants, fluff at the end and a bit of pining, kind of Grease!AU, hints of sub!haz, bad porn with an even worse plot

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The music was loud, the people were drunk, and you were hanging around the snack table while scanning the room, solo cup filled with death juice in hand. Totally normal Friday night. 

Your friends had left to go mingle, but not before encouraging you to find someone to get busy with, someone to get your mind off of him.  

Your mind wandered at the thought of him. Taken back to the summer nights on the beach, the sound of waves crashing against rocks as you cuddled on the bench-swing. Those late nights and early mornings filled with passion and intimacy…only to be ripped away when autumn decided to fall. 

“Well well well, if it isn’t Y/n Y/L/N,” a british accent sang over the music. 

You turned your head to see the infamous Tom Holland, with Greg Birks and a boy you didn't recognize standing behind him. 

“Tommy, long time no see,” you smiled. Tom had been a close friend of yours growing up, but grew apart under...unfortunate circumstances. “Thought you were too cool to hangout at shitshows like this?”

Tom laughed, “Only you would call one of the biggest parties on the block a “shitshow” darling. I’m actually here because a certain person wanted to see you,” his eyes glanced back at the guy standing next to Greg. 

The boy stepped forward, and you nearly fainted right there after one look. 

Harrison James Fucking Osterfield...in leather pants. 

The blue-eyed boy stood composed, but on the inside you knew he was nervous. A cigarette hung loosely from his lips, which was new. Who were you kidding, everything about the person that stood in front of you was new. 

Last time you saw Harrison, he was wearing a cream-coloured sweater and sweatpants, hair messy and glasses pushed up on the bridge of his nose. And now, a year later, here he was. Except this time decked out in a leather jacket and white-tee, pants that honestly did not look comfortable, hair gelled back and eyes illuminated by the flashing lights. 

It took a few seconds for the initial shock to wear off before you collected yourself. “H-Haz I-...I didn’t recognize you, um, you look good.” You mentally cursed yourself for stuttering. Get it together Y/L/N. 

Harrison smiled, taking in your appearance while his mind went back to the time you spent together. No matter what you were, or weren’t, wearing, you always looked incredible from his perspective. “Hi Y/n…” 

Tom took one glance between you two before pulling on Greg’s arm. “We’ll let you two catch up,” he not-so-subtly winked at Haz before soon being swallowed by the crowd of pissed partiers

The air suddenly became stiff once it was just you and him, neither of you knowing what to say next. Harrison fiddled with the silver ring on his finger, something you quickly took notice of. 

“That’s new...I mean, well everything about you is new. What happened to Haz who wore knit-jumpers and spec?” You questioned, genuinely curious how and more importantly why the sudden transformation from ‘library nerd’ to ‘biker gang’. 

He smiled shyly, rubbing the back of his neck as he spoke. “Yeah well, the boys thought it was time for a makeover...d-do you like it?” He studied your face, hoping for a positive reaction. 

You took in his attire again, except this time with more focus on how the material hugged his legs and arms tightly, and how the white-tee really brought out his eyes in the dim light, and how fucking sexy he looks with his hair gelled back like that. Oh yeah, you definitely like it. 

A wave of confidence flooded your body as you grabbed the sides of his face and crashed your lips onto his. Haz, startled at first but quickly came back to his senses, kissed back almost immediately. The familiar feeling of your lips moulding with his brought back so many memories. 

Stolen kisses before bed, hands all over each other, you pushing him onto the bed, holding his arms up and-- 

You were the first to pull away, breathing slightly heavier and a small smile forming at the corner of your mouth. “let me show you how much I love it.” You whispered in his ear, placing a gentle kiss at the edge before taking his hand and maneuvering your way to the upstairs rooms. Luckily for you, the owner of the house was a friend of a friend, so you had no problem finding a place with a decent sized bed. 

Harrison followed you eagerly, more recollections passing through his mind as he felt his pants become tighter than they already were. The whole journey up the stairs was a mess between quick kisses and tripping over one another, but a remaining constant was his hand laced into yours, without any objections. 

Once you both stumbled into the empty room and closed the door, Harrison pulled you into a needy make-out session. Your back was pressed against the wall while your hands wandered beneath the leather jacket, feeling his toned muscle through the thin shirt. Meanwhile, the blue-eyed boy gripped your hips, squeezing the love-handles gently causing a light hum to emit from your vocal cords. His fingers gently tugged at the hem of your shirt, and that’s when you knew it was time. The music from downstairs drowned out from both your awareness, in that moment the only thing you could focus on was each other and the burning desire that was cutting the tension in the room. 

Hesitantly, you pushed Harrison off of you, not missing the soft whine he let out and the slightly hurt expression he wore on his face. It, however, was quickly replaced with a smile when crossed your arms over and pulled your top off slowly. His eyes drank in every part of your torso, thinking how someone like him ever got the chance to score someone like you.

Little did he know, you were thinking the same thing. 

Once your shirt was tossed aimlessly across the room, you swiftly recaptured his lips with yours and carefully guided yourselves to the bed. Harrison followed your lead, walking backwards until his legs hit the frame and he fell on to the mattress. 

Unfazed, you climbed on top of him, like a predator about to pounce on its prey. Your body hovered over his, breathing in sync as you straddled his waist. His hands went to grab your waist again, however they were quickly pushed above his head and into the duvet. Naturally, he didn’t expect anything less, and the dark look in your eyes only excited him further. 

“You gonna be a good boy for me, Hazzy?” You asked, smirking when you felt something twitch against your core. Seriously, who let this man wear these pants?

  The boy beneath you nodded. He knew how this worked. You were always in control, always the top, even when you weren’t. No matter how many times he’s gone down on you, it’s you who always has the authority. He wanted to be good for you, to please you like no one but him could. He wanted more than a summer fling or casual hook-up, he wanted you to be his. Only fitting seeing as, though you may not have realized it, he was already yours. 

The whole reason he asked Tom to help him change his ‘style’ was to get you to take interest in him again. You were always on his mind and he needed to do everything in his power to win you back in his life, even if that meant playing dress up in order to look more appealing. 

Harrison was pulled out of his thoughts by the feeling your lips on his neck, hot kisses trailing up and down his throat. The sensation alone was enough to grab the attention of the little guy. 

You smiled slyly as you left marks on his neck, biting and sucking on the spots you knew would gain the most reaction. The blue-eyed boy let out breathy moans beneath you, hands switching from resting on the bed, your waist, your thighs, finally settling on cupping your breasts through your bra. You sat up as he squeezed the material gently, reaching around to unclip the undergarment while Harrison struggled to take the jacket off. 

Harrison heard you chuckle in amusement, blushing lightly as he finally managed to free his arm from the gripping sleeve. He didn’t hesitate to follow up by removing his shirt from the equation, which was much easier considering he was smart for once and put on a loose-fitting tee to give himself some breathing room. 

You stared shamelessly at the now-shirtless man in front of you, and all-be-damned if the greek gods didn’t bless him overnight with that gorgeous build. Holy shit, is the only thing you could think of as your fingers grazed over his torso, fingers tracing every ab and indent. 

Harrison squirmed under you, hips bucking up ever so slightly. He was slowly starting to get desperate and really needed any form of friction, so he took to grabbing your waist and grinding up into you, letting out a small sigh at the relief. 

You gasped quietly at the sudden sensation, instinctively moving your hips in sync so you were moving in unison, the sounds of small moans filling the room. You resumed your previous actions, planting your lips on different areas on the boy’s throat, slowly moving further down to his collarbone, a.k.a the sweet spot.  

Harrison mewled when he felt your teeth graze against the area, nipping and licking some of his most sensitive places. His hips moved faster while the grip on you tightened as he tried to get you to do the same. However, this apparently wasn’t the ideal. 

You grabbed his wrists, pushing them into the mattress above his head. You adored how he willingly let you do this, even though he could easily turn the tables with the amount of muscle the boy packed, he still continued to submit to your needs. “Getting needy, baby boy?” 

He nodded his head quickly, shifting beneath you. “Pants off, now.” 

“Not with that attitude,” you teased, letting go of his hands and moving your own down to his belt.

Harrison rolled his eyes, a smile forming on his clean-shaven face. “Please will you take off my pants before they’re too tight to move in?” 

You grinned, “Atta boy.” 

Hooking your fingers under the waistband, slowly pulling down the piece of clothing, Haz lifting his hips to aid the process. You struggled a bit, whacking yourself in the head with your arm more than once, earning a couple giggles from both parties, before finally getting past the -ahem- obstacle that prevented you from removing the material. 

Harrison audibly sighed in relief, happy to be free from his restraints. 

And to your surprise, his cock slapped against his lower-stomach, red and already leaking from the head. “Going commando, handsome? You dirty boy.” 

The flustered boy could only smile coyly, “In my defence, it was the easiest way to put those bloody things on.” 

“That’s fair,” you replied as you wrapped your hand around the swollen member and stroked it lightly. 

Haz let out a shaky breath, head leaning back as his eyes fell shut. Memories flashed before his eyes. 

Your mouth on his cock, moving your head up and down swiftly while he writhed beneath you. You held eye-contact, mischievous and confidence powering your every move. 

The feeling of your thighs shaking against his shoulders as he ate you out like it was the last meal he’d ever have, small whimpers coming from above while he rubbed his thumb against your clit. 

His hold on your ass as you rode him, kneading the flesh and overall desperate for something to hold on to. Your breasts bouncing in front of his eyes, a hand on his chest while the other gripped his hip. 

The sound of soft drawn out moans filling his ears. The feel of constantly being right on the edge, your walls squeezing him perfectly, his muscles twitching. Both backs arched in unison, a silent cry being released into the air as you both flew into total bliss. 

In real time, his body was reacting to the thoughts, as if he was really experiencing each scenario. Before he knew it, Harrison’s moans grew louder as he approached his climax, he looked down at you and immediately flung his head back into the pillow, the sight of you being too much to handle. 

Your tongue circled his tip, one hand pumping vigorously while the other massaged his balls. His cock twitched against your touch, but before it could reach it’s breaking point you eased up, retracting any stimulation provided and watched in amusement as Haz whined. 

“Oh come on! I was so close…” 

“I know,” You said while sitting up. “You didn’t think I would let you cum so soon, did you?” 

Harrison shook his head slowly, blue eyes dark with lust as he watched you shimmy out of your bottoms. He took in your image, every piece of you being painted in his mind like a beautiful muse. Every stretch mark, every battle scar, your body was like a drug he was addicted to.

You straddled his waist, this time bare skin against bare skin, grinding against him. You moaned every time your clit caught against his tip. Leaning down, your mouth explored every part of his torso, tongue circling his nipples before sliding up and tracing his collarbone, your lips leaving love bites in its wake. The sight of him under you, all marked up was enough to put an end to your own game. Afterall, you were teasing yourself just as much as you were teasing him. 

Harrison, as if sensing what was about to happen next, held your hips and gave them a gentle squeeze. “Th-there’s condoms in my pocket...either my jacket or pants, don’t remember.” 

“Seems to me like you planned this,” You said as you got up and started searching through the discarded clothing. 

The boy blushed, “Well I knew you would be here so... thought might as well take the chance,” he shrugged, subtly eyeing your ass when you bent over to pick up his jacket. 

You hummed in response, smiling when you found the small square packet. You were about to put the leather down, but instead decided to put it on. You shivered a bit when the cold material touched your skin, turning around to see Harrison gaping at your new look. 

“You...look really hot in that.”

You chuckled, climbing back on top and tearing the plastic away with your teeth. “According to you, I look hot in everything.” 

“I’m not wrong though,” He grinned, biting his lip as he felt the latex slide down his cock. It wasn’t always ideal, but better safe than sorry. 

In one swift motion, you connected like two puzzle pieces, a perfect fit. His tip nudging that spot inside you without even trying. You both let out a sigh at the familiar feeling, not moving, just letting the memory of sex on the beachhouse balcony pass through your minds, all the moments of enjoying each others presence in pure bliss. 

Your own bodies betray the wishful thinking of staying in the moment. You clench around him and he moans lightly, and a simple sound like that was all you needed to set off that fire boiling inside your core. 

You raise your hips until only the head of his cock is in and sink back down on his length, setting a passionate yet frantic pace, your heart wanting to feel every second but your brain forcing your body to tend to its pleasurable needs. 

The room feels silent, save for sounds that follow your actions. Neither of you hear the people downstairs, nor can you feel the vibrations of the music blasting through speakers. You only hear each other’s moans, feel each other’s touch. 

It goes by in a blur. At one point his mouth was on your breast, your hand was on his throat, both of you lost in the time spent together. 

After all was done, you both laid in the other’s embrace, his hand playing with your hair while you traced shapes on his naked chest, the warm leather jacket increasing the sense of security you felt around him. 

“You know…” You spoke suddenly, breaking the otherwise comfortable silence that had settled between the two of you, “You don’t have to change your clothes just to get me into you.” 

Harrison tensed a little, unsure where this conversation was headed. “Yeah…? I-I guess I just figured since you were into the whole ‘Greaser’ look more...if I was like that then...maybe you’d...uh...go out with me? For real this time.” 

You smiled, leaning up to place a gentle kiss on his now-swollen lips. “You div, if you asked months ago you would’ve known I don’t care about what kind of pants you wear. I just want the Harrison I had last summer…” 

The blue-eyed boy smiled back, “Then you have him...you’ve always had him, darling.” 

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Happy Birthday Harrison!!

All: @greenorangevioletgrass @allegra-writes @soraitmnt @worldoftom @farfromparker @angel-spidey @parkerpeter24 @god-knows-what-am-i-doing​ @the-panwitch @rebekkah4766 @hollandsamor @spideygirl2003 @theactualprincessofeverything @halfblood-princess-505 @the-crazy-fanfictionist

Harrison Osterfield: @in-a-lot-of-fandoms-tbh

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 24

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: Halloween chapter, part 2.

A/N: Yay, an update! I think some of you are gonna be happy about the characters that are being introduced in this chapter... Also lots of Caleo dorkiness (and canon references) in it! And you'll get to see if you were right with your costume guesses :D

Also like I already mentioned last week, this is the last chapter that I have written so far (when I started posting this fic I tried to make sure I'd have at least 7 chapters ready so I wouldn't have to stress about deadlines... and here we are now) so it is possible that updates may slow down a bit, at least if the chapter wants to become long. But I am still /trying/ to keep up with the regular updates the best I can :) So worry not!

Now, enjoy and let me know what you think!! Ps. somehow we’ve managed to pass 50k words already :O

Words: 4040

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

…

“Hi, you guys!” Piper, who was dressed as Wonder Woman, greeted Leo and Calypso first when they arrived, gesturing for them to come in.

“Hello! I was afraid Argo II had decided to stop working because you guys are late,” Jason the Superman noted as he offered to take Calypso’s coat and put it in a hanger by the door.

“I’m not going to lie to you, Jason, that possibility did cross my mind as well,” Calypso said, casting Leo a meaningful look. “But no, not this time.”

“We’re only 10 minutes late!” Leo protested, checking the time from his phone. “I was busy finishing something… and Calypso took her time preparing herself as well. She probably did her wig for like two hours.” He gave her a not so serious side-eye.

“I did not!” Calypso said defensively. “Yeah, I straightened and combed and braided it but that took me maybe 15-20 minutes so he is highly exaggerating.”

“Don’t worry, Calypso, we know he does that a lot.” Piper smiled at her reassuringly. “Speaking of your wig, though, you look very cute! That hair reminds me of the style you had before my makeover. You’re dressed as the mythology Calypso, right?”

“Yes, I am,” Calypso said, pleased that Piper had figured that out so fast. “I thought it would be fun to be a bit self ironic for once. I haven’t really had a good reason to sew recently so this was a nice excuse to do that as well.” She made a small twirl to show the dress better.

“That dress really looks great!” Piper told her. “I would gladly commission you to sew me clothes; it’s so hard to find anything nice from the clothes stores these days. But Leo.” She turned back to him. “I see someone hasn’t bothered to get a costume. I wasn’t expecting that from you because you’re always so excited about them.”

“No, you got it all wrong.” Leo wagged his finger at her. “I do have it here, but as I told Cal, it would have been too difficult to wear in the car.” He dropped his bag on the floor, causing a loud thud as it hit the ground.

“Alright. Care to give us any hint what it is?” Piper asked curiously. “Seems heavy.” Calypso wondered if this was something they did every year.

“I’m just saying that it’s inspired by some movies that united us three,” Leo noted mysteriously. “But that’s all, you’ll see soon!”

“My mind is blank now,” Piper said. “Jason, what movies have we watched with him?”

“The first one that comes to my mind is Star Wars,” Jason reminded her. Suddenly both Jason and Piper’s eyes widened in realization. “Could it be?”

“Oh no, Leo you didn’t!” Piper doubled over in laughter when it occurred to her what Leo’s costume most likely was. “I can’t wait to see this!”

“I hope you took pictures with Festus!” Jason couldn’t keep his poker face either, and Calypso watched their reactions with confusion.

“Don’t worry, I will show them later.” Leo grinned, unperplexed by Jason and Piper’s laughter. “Now, where can I change?”

Piper showed him an empty room where he could get into his costume in peace, while Calypso started looking around the house on her own. Even though the place seemed rather fancy, Jason and Piper had managed to make it cozier with their personal objects. A lot of them had seen life and were worn but somehow they still fit in with the newer decorations.

As Calypso reached the living room, her focus went to the guests who had already arrived at the party. She waved at Annabeth and nodded awkwardly to Percy. Even though she and Annabeth were friends again, she wasn’t quite sure how she should act near Percy so ‘reserved’ felt the most natural reaction. She couldn’t help but smile a bit, though, when she registered their costumes: Annabeth had a Chiton just like her, although grey instead of white, with some silvery accessories and a beautiful owl shaped brooch over her chest. Perhaps the most impressive part of her costume was the Greek styled helmet that was used in battles and that hid most of Annabeth’s curly ponytail. Calypso was quite certain she was dressed as Athena, the Greek goddess that according to her was the one she identified herself the most with. Percy on the other hand was wearing sandals, shorts, a tropical shirt, and a belt with fishing equipment and he was holding a fishing rod in his hand. Calypso couldn’t quite figure out who he was supposed to be, other than some sort of fisherman.

“Hi,” Calypso greeted them as she got to hearing distance with them. “You guys look nice. You’re Athena, right?” She asked Annabeth. “Matches my theme, don’t you think?”

“Sure does,” Annabeth nodded, eyeing Calypso’s costume. “You look pretty much exactly like how I imagine the mythology Calypso.”

“Thank you. Coming from you it’s a big compliment.” She turned Percy. “I can’t figure out who you are, though. You don’t seem like a Greek god?”

“I am, though,” Percy replied. “I’m Poseidon.”

“Ooh, so that’s why the fishing gear!” Calypso realized. “But I don’t think the Greeks had tropical shirts quite yet.”

“No, you’re right in that.” Percy shook his head, smiling a bit. “But I’m basing this on the version in the Peter Johnson series. That’s how he was described in it.”

“I didn’t know you have read that too,” Calypso said, “But makes sense. Um, the Poseidon and Athena of the mythology hated each other, though. Not that it’s really my business, but I hope you two are doing fine…?” She asked a bit nervously, not wanting to be the reason for their issues.

“Oh yeah, we are,” Percy confirmed immediately. “It’s just an old joke – back when Annabeth and I were reading the Peter Johnson books I used to say Poseidon is my godly parent and Athena Annabeth’s, and that just kind of stuck with us.”

“Alright.” Calypso accepted Percy’s answer, turning her attention back to Annabeth. “By the way, where did you get that helmet? It definitely looks fancier than most of the plastic ones you see at costume shops.”

“My father collects these things,” Annabeth answered, lifting the helmet from her head for a moment. “I’ve told you he’s also a historian, right? Well, one of his friends wanted to make a replica of the ancient Greek helmets with some modern machines and dad bought this from him. I’m not saying this is 100 per cent accurate but it looks pretty cool, in my opinion.”

“It does,” Calypso confirmed.

“You came with Leo, right?” Percy asked then, to which Calypso nodded. “Where is he? I can’t wait to see his costume; he usually goes for something that is way over the top. Last year he was Hiccup from How to Train your Dragon and he had made a Toothless costume for his dog. I’ve also seen pics of him as Iron Man. Yes, with a full iron costume.”

“I can believe that of him,” Calypso chuckled, imagining Leo in the said costume. “He just went to change into his costume because apparently he couldn’t drive in it. He didn’t reveal what he was going to be, but it does sound like something extravagant.”

“I missed his costume last year but I’ll be sure to have a camera ready when he shows up this time,” Annabeth said happily. Calypso was relieved that the conversation was going this well; she hadn’t known what to expect beforehand because this was the first time she was in the same room with Percy since the ‘incident’. Talking with him now, though, made her realize that holding a grudge wouldn’t be smart and he seemed to think the same way.

“I just realized,” Calypso decided to change the topic, “that I’ve never heard the story of how you guys know Jason and Piper. So how did that happen?”

“It’s a funny story,” Percy started, smiling at the memory. “Jason and I used to be the captains of rivaling soccer teams when we were around 16. Well, one time Jason’s team was visiting us but we were playing in an arena that had just been renovated so I hadn’t been there before. I may have been a bit late from our team meeting and I was a bit lost so I decided to ask one staff lady where I was supposed to go. Somehow she got our teams mixed up and I ended up in the locker room of Jason’s team. Some of Jason’s teammates said that my expression was worth seeing when I realized the mistake but I dunno about that. The funny thing was that somehow the same thing had happened to Jason; he had also been late for the meeting because of traffic or something and he had gotten into my team’s locker room. Well, after the game we had a good laugh about it together and ended up talking about other stuff as well and noticed we have a lot in common. That’s how we became friends. When we moved into the same town, we started training together at least a few times a week.”

“Piper and I didn’t learn to know each other until Jason and she started dating a couple of years ago and they invited Percy to some party where I went with him. To be honest, I was a bit suspicious about her at first because we seemed very different but eventually we learned to respect each other’s qualities. And here we are,” Annabeth added.

“Those are some cool stories,” Calypso said. “It seems like a funny coincidence that somehow we all ended up in this city even though most of us are from somewhere else. Like Leo is from Texas, I am from Greece…” “Speaking of him,” Annabeth had to muffle his laughter with her hand, “I believe we are finally getting some answers about his costume.”

“Oh… my gods” was all Calypso could say when she turned to the direction Annabeth was looking at. “You’re really something else.”

Leo was completely hidden inside his costume, but Calypso could practically hear him grinning at their reactions. The costume looked very much like in the movies; golden (just painted, not real gold, because there was no way Leo could afford something like that) plating forming a droid with big round eyes and an ability to speak lots and lots of different languages: C-3PO from Star Wars.

“Holy shit, dude, that looks so real.” Percy gaped at Leo. “I��m starting to understand why you spent so much time in your room the past few weeks.”

“Why C-3PO, though?” Calypso asked once she managed to put her poker face back on. “Does that have some story behind it?”

“Because, duh, it looks cool!” Leo exclaimed with a mechanical voice from inside his costume. “I dunno, ever since I first saw C-3PO as a kid I thought it would be cool to be able to build something like that. And hey, his ability to translate like all the possible languages is pretty neat. Me? I just know 3.”

“Isn’t it uncomfortable in there, though?” Calypso asked. “That thing must be heavy.”

“Sunshine, I’m always uncomfortable. But this was a childhood dream of mine so I sure as heck am not backing off now,” Leo said with determination.

“A stubborn one, aren’t you?” Calypso stated. “Even I have to admit, though, that you have certainly done some thorough job with it. Hey, I should take photos before I forget! You don’t get to see this every day.”

The others dug their phones up as well and for a while Leo just made silly poses while they took pictures, clearly enjoying the attention his costume got. Eventually he started demanding that Calypso should join him for the photos but she was a bit hesitant at first.

Leo argued: “Come on. Greek mythology meets Star Wars? You don’t see a crossover like that every day.”

“Can’t argue with that, I suppose,” Calypso said and went next to him. “Well, do we have some kind of story for Calypso and C-3PO’s meeting?” she asked as Percy and Annabeth waved at them to look at the camera.

Leo considered her question for a moment. “Oh, how about this? C-3PO somehow ends up on Calypso’s island - because duh, Calypso is cursed so she can’t leave the island…”

“You seem to know surprisingly much about Greek mythology, just saying…” Calypso noted while trying to smile for the photos, resting her hand on the metallic shoulder.

“I told ya, Sunshine, you can blame tía Callida for that…” Leo reminded her. “Anyway, I imagine those two don’t really like each other at first because they’re so different but eventually they learn to respect each other’s skills; C-3PO can translate basically any language and Calypso is good at all kinds of handiworks, which is hard for a droid.”

“And? What happens after that?” Calypso asked curiously.

Leo considered it for a moment. “C-3PO doesn’t really wanna leave Calypso’s island but he has galaxies to save with his friend R2-D2 so he has to go but he promises to come get her afterwards.”

“Aw, Leo, that is kind of sweet,” Calypso commented, suddenly aware of the metal arm that had snuck around her waist. “Does he… does he ever return, though? Shouldn’t that be impossible?”

“For a human, maybe, but he’s a droid,” Leo noted. “Unfortunately during a big battle he blows up badly but the ever so faithful R2-D2 collects the pieces and finds someone who can rebuild him again. And boom, he makes it back and lives happily ever after with his goddess.”

“What’s the term you use when you enjoy a fictional relationship a lot?” Calypso asked. “Shipping?” Annabeth nodded at her. “I don’t know, Leo, to me it sounds like you ship those two. Isn’t that a bit weird?” “What, why would that be weird? I’ve seen people ship…”

“I see these two have gotten into a full on nerd mode again,” Annabeth said quietly to Percy while they were waiting for the flatmates to stop their bickering so they’d be able to take the photos. “Not projecting themselves into their characters, right?”

“No, definitely not,” Percy agreed.

Eventually Leo and Calypso stopped bickering and Annabeth was able to take the pictures. Even if Leo was mostly hidden by his costume, Calypso felt a bit self conscious about the fact that these were the first photos of them together. They did a few goofy poses because Annabeth and Percy told them to, but Calypso thought she probably looked more embarrassed than funny in them.

Once they were done, Leo went to Annabeth who was going through the photos and bowed his head a bit to see them better. “Hey, these do look pretty cool! It’s probably just the lighting but here you look like you’re blushing to some funny comment C-3PO made.”

“Show me!” Calypso yelped nervously and took the phone from Annabeth. When she saw it, she could immediately tell Leo was not wrong; she really was blushing. “Yeah, it’s definitely those candles in the background that do it… And I think it’s pretty warm in here, maybe all the people here heat this room…”

“OK, if you say so,” Leo said but Calypso imagined that he was looking at her suspiciously through his costume.

Trying to get the others’ attention to something else, she said: “So, who else has arrived so far?”

“Nico and Will. I think they went to get some snacks from the dining room,” Piper, who had just entered the room, answered.

“Leo told me that Nico is Jason’s relative, but what about Will?” Calypso asked her.

“Will is Nico’s boyfriend. This is the first time we’re meeting him but they seem very good together. At least he seems to have a grounding effect on Nico, and he actually listens to him, unlike most of us. Um, sorry, it’s a long story, one that I should probably save for another time. Nico may be a bit hard to approach sometimes but he is a very nice guy when you learn to know him. Just… been through a lot. I guess like many of us here. But he seems way happier now,” Piper said, and as if on cue, they could hear some distant laughter coming from the dining room.

“We should start a traumatized college kids’ club,” Leo attempted to joke, and the others hummed in agreement. Maybe she did belong to this group after all, Calypso thought. If only they knew, though…

“This just got cheerful,” Percy said, interrupting Calypso’s thought process. “Who’s up for blue candies? Get them before Will and Nico eat them all.”

“I heard that, Jackson!” Nico entered the room without a warning. “No offense to you or your mom but blue candies aren’t exactly my thing.”

“Hi, Nico,” Percy greeted him, seeming a bit flustered after Nico’s comment. “You haven’t met Calypso, right?” He pointed at her.

“No, I haven’t,” Nico took a quick look at her and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Alright, in that case, this is Calypso Astal. And Calypso, this is Nico di Angelo,” Percy introduced them to each other.

“Nice to meet you,” Calypso approached him, but he seemed to evaluate her for a moment before he took her hand.

“Likewise,” Nico said finally. “I think Jason has mentioned you a few times.”

“Oh. That’s nice,” Calypso said a bit unsurely, like every time she met a new person. The lonely years still had a toll on her, and even though she liked spending time with her friends, meeting new people was always a bit nerve wracking to her. “You’re his relative, right?”

“A distant cousin,” Nico answered. “Yeah, our fathers are related, but I have my mother’s last name and Jason has his.”

“I take it your mother has roots elsewhere, based on the last name?” Calypso asked.

“She was Italian,” Nico shrugged. “I lived there my first years too. But now I can barely remember those times.”

Calypso noticed the use of past tense, but she thought it was probably better to not ask about that in the middle of a party. “Oh. I’ve been to Italy a few times. I’m originally from Greece.”

“What brought you here, then?” Nico asked.

“Dad’s work,” Calypso responded in a tone that told everyone she wouldn’t elaborate on that topic more. It seemed to have become a habit to her.

“Anyway,” Leo, who had managed to stay quiet for a surprisingly long amount of time in Calypso’s opinion, stepped forward and cleared his throat. “Nico, a little bird told me,” he looked at Jason, “that your boyfriend is a Star Wars geek. Is that true?”

Nico took one look at Leo’s costume and his mouth twitched when he realized why Leo was asking. “He is, but don’t let him get started on it, or else he will never stop. Besides, he’s not my boyfriend, I prefer calling him…”

“A significant nuisance?” Will showed up from the dining room, carrying a plate full of food. “Don’t mind him, he just warms up a bit slow.”

“Yes, this is Will,” Nico sighed, addressing those who hadn’t met them before. “Sometimes he’s a nuisance, sometimes he can be quite OK. When he’s having a good day.”

“Same back at you, dear,” Will laughed. “Did I hear someone mention Star Wars, though?”

“You did,” Leo said, stepping forward so Will could see his costume better. Needless to say, Will looked beyond thrilled.

“Oh boy, here we go again,” Nico said quietly before Will even had time to comment on the costume.

“Woah, that must be the best C-3PO costume I’ve seen. And yeah, I’ve seen a few so I don’t compliment you for nothing,” Will assured.

“Thanks, man, I did spend quite a while with it,” Leo said, high fiving Will. “Glad someone here appreciates good things.”

“I still hope you’re not one of those fans who have only seen the most recent movies and not the originals,” Will noted.

“Heck, no!” Leo exclaimed immediately. “The original three for the win! Mom and I used to watch them a lot… um, when I was little. She was a big fan. But the newer ones just don’t feel the same.” Calypso had a feeling Leo had almost said something else, but he had changed his phrasing at the last moment.

“You have a pretty good taste,” Will said approvingly. Then he finally realized he hadn’t even asked Leo and Calypso’s names before getting into the geek mode.

“So, who are you two? I already met Percy and Annabeth earlier but I don’t think I know you guys yet.”

“I’m Leo Valdez, and this is my, um, flatmate, Calypso Astal,” Leo introduced. Calypso hoped there was a better word to describe their relationship than a ‘flatmate’ but at the moment it was probably the best and the safest option there was.

“Flatmates, huh?” Will repeated. “How did that happen?”

“I was in a hurry to find a roof over my head so I put in the application that I also accept mixed flats,” Calypso replied. “I didn’t meet Leo beforehand because, um, that would have been a bit difficult to arrange in this case, but it worked out OK.” Calypso noticed Leo was looking at her from the corner of his eye, and she realized she had never even talked about that option before. The truth was that she had had to plan her leaving very thoroughly so her father wouldn’t notice and she had driven to Indianapolis as fast as possible, with no time for second guessing.

“And my flat happened to have a room free because our boy Jason decided to move in with Beauty Queen,” Leo added to that story. “It’s really no stranger than that.”

“Oh, right, someone must have mentioned that you and Jason used to be flatmates,” Will recalled. “I just didn’t connect the dots.”

Jason had apparently finished welcoming the rest of the guests because he joined the group in the living room. “That reminds me, I don’t think I’ve asked you, Calypso, if Leo still leaves his dishes undone and if he has empty milk cartons in the fridge.”

“He used to do that?” Calypso asked with amusement. “After seeing his room that’s not so hard to picture, but no, he’s been pretty tidy in the common area. Although one time he bribed me to do his dishes for him in exchange for some of his food.”

“It was a good deal!” Leo protested. “You didn’t have to cook and you also got to taste some Valdez’ sizzling hot quesadillas so I’d say it was a win-win. Besides, you didn’t seem to have anything against that.”

“Alright, I will admit the quesadillas were pretty good,” Calypso conceded. “But a true gentleman offers them without even asking. Well, other than that he’s been OK,” she told Jason with a playful twinkle in her eye.

“I guess he really is able to change his habits, then,” he replied. “At least when the flatmate is someone he...”

Before Jason had time to finish his sentence, Leo intervened: “Folks, do we really have to be talking about my cleaning habits in front of people I don’t know? The first impressions are important, especially when it comes to Supersized McShizzle!”

“We’re just being honest, Repair Boy.” Calypso couldn’t resist booping his metal covered nose. Apparently she just didn’t know how to not cross the line with this boy, she sighed in her mind.

“Is that all? Where’s the feisty Sunshine I know?,” Leo said in a low tone, so the others could barely hear his comment, coming out almost flirty.

“Shut up,” Calypso answered equally quietly but held her gaze at him.

“Ahem,” they suddenly heard Piper’s voice behind them. “In case you’ve stopped with the flirting, I’d like you to meet a couple of people.”

Calypso turned to see the newcomers and as she recognized the Hunter badges both of them had attached to their shirts, something in her mind just suddenly turned off.

[offbrandmercyplates]

I should put a title here but I don't know what to put AAA

Tumblr User invader-amethyst: *Has a Greek Gods AU headcanon*

Emmibee: “Hey fic writers, feel free to write—”

Me: *Throws self into the computer screen Super Mario 64 style* I’VE BEEN SUMMONED.

So, yep! invader-amethyst sent in an ask with a Greek Gods AU idea, and Emmibee gave it a stamp of approval. Thus, I wrote. This one actually took a few tries to get started, but I think I’m pretty happy with how it turned out. See you at the bottom!

 ***

The Unseen One’s Lesson on Loneliness

The Underworld, for the most part, was made up of stone tunnels and caverns that were bathed a deep blue by the numerous crystals on the walls and ceilings. The entrances to these tunnels and caverns often shifted around, by their own will or the will of their king, which created an infinite combination of paths to wander and explore. Condensation would drip from stalactites into little puddles that never grew or shrank, and the drips and drops echoed throughout the Underworld in a way that soothed some and unnerved most. The goddess of spring was part of the former.

Kore was currently sitting in a cavern with a floor of damp, loamy soil. It had been the first gift given to her by the god of death in person, rather than secretly left for her to discover.

She enjoyed feeling the soil with her hands, watching it fall between her fingers and smooth over her palms. She was, admittedly, a bit indecisive, and had yet to choose what she would grow in this new garden first. Since food was ample in the Underworld, flowers seemed to be the best option, but which flowers should she grow first? Should she start small, with some bushes of roses? Something thematically appropriate to the setting, like some branches of belladonna? So many choices, but which would be just right?

Hence why she was simply enjoying the sensation of dirt on her skin; damp enough to form a shape when pressed, but dry enough not to stick.

A slight tickling sensation on her smallest finger, buried under the soil, made her lift her gaze to see a pale, wriggling string crawl its way across the dirt. A worm friend!

Kore flipped onto her stomach and gently patted the worm. Mm, yes. This was some good soil her husband got her if there were worm friends to find.

The little worm stilled at her touch. Its back end lifted and made what looked like a “come here” gesture before it disappeared under the dirt.

Curious, Kore carefully dug a hole around the worm until she found a small, dead plant. She cradled it in her hands. It was a limp, vine-like stem with wrinkly brown tubes clustered along it. There were no roots, suggesting it had been plucked before being buried there.

Kore smiled. Here was her answer.

She closed her eyes and felt energy, warmth, and light pulse into the plant, which she lowered to the ground so it could take root. She let it stand on its own once it had the strength, and she could hear the soft crinkle of petals regaining their vigor.

She opened her eyes and admired the clusters of red tube-shaped flowers on the bush. It wasn’t very big at all, especially in this huge cavern, but the fiery red blossoms seemed to glow like a real fire in the cool darkness. “Erica flowers,” she said. Then, calling over her shoulder: “In the language of flowers, they mean ‘loneliness’. I don’t suppose you knew that, did you?”

There was a clattering sound, like a rock balanced on a stalagmite had been knocked over suddenly. Then Hades was standing next to her. “How did you know I was here?”

“I always know when you’re here,” she replied, tapping the blooms and watching them bounce slightly at her touch.

“I was wearing my Helm of Darkness. Not even a god can sense me when I wear it.”

“Good thing I’m a goddess, then, eh?”

“Kore…” he stopped himself, and she looked up to see him worrying at the handle of his golden staff.

“It’s okay,” she grinned up at him. “I like it when you call me by my name.”

He adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses. She patted the ground beside her, and after a moment, he carefully lowered himself next to her. “The flowers of loneliness…” he hummed to himself.

“Why was it down here?” Kore asked.

“…I was out one day,” he replied, “working on the surface, when I came across a bushel much like this one. My… knowledge of flowers is limited, so flowers shaped like these were strange. I felt a strong draw to them, so I took a branch-full, only to remember too late that I can’t touch most living things. It died in my hand.” He stared hard at the flowers. “The flowers of loneliness,” he repeated. “I suppose it makes some sense.”

“What does?”

“We are alone when we die. A fitting end for a flower meant to symbolize this truth.”

Kore frowned. “Well…” she paused a moment. “I don’t know about that. Look at how many of them there are.” She took his boney hand and guided it to the cluster of red. “You can’t really say they’re alone when they’re bunched together like this. And even when you touched them, they all went together.” His fingertip brushed a blossom, and it didn’t wither. “So they might feel lonely, but they’re not actually as alone as they think they are.” Her hand closed around his and she looked into his eye sockets. “They’re not alone.”

The thrumming echo of dripping water rang in the silence as they looked at each other. Eye sockets, one closed and one wide open, stared into a pair of eyes full of life. His jaw bone was slightly slack, and her smile was warm and gentle.

After a moment, her smile turned a little mischievous. “So… why were you wearing your Helm of Darkness?”

Hades’ skull flushed. “I-it’s not strange for me to have it!”

“In your own territory?”

“I—! Well—! It… may be a habit at this point… when I watch you… it’s not creepy!”

“It isn’t,” Kore laughed. “It just means you’re shy.”

“The god of death is not shy!”

“The god of death is, however, someone who talks about himself in the third person.”

“That means the god of death knows that he’s important.”

The goddess of spring leaned lightly against her husband. “That, he is.”

“Strange woman.” He took a stronger hold of her hand.

“Stubborn old man.” She bumped his shoulder with her head.

***

A major inspiration for the flower I chose for this story came from the second Black Butler Musical, which featured a deep theme about Erica flowers and the loneliness of death. Erica flowers are also called heaths (which are different from but related to heather flowers), and after multiple Google searches, it seems the “fire heath” is the color that means loneliness. Most Erica flowers are white, purple, or pink, but those colors are generally more positive (purple does often mean solitude, though).

Roses, as we know, mean love, which would be perfect for Kore and Hades being in love (and married-ish?); and belladonnas are also called deadly nightshade, which is why it would have been thematic to the setting of the Underworld.

Kore calls Hades her husband, but I’m not actually sure if they’re married in our human sense of the term. Would they have an official “tying of the knot” or would it be more like just something they agree on that’s acknowledged by all the gods?

Where are all the spirits in the Underworld? … Ssh…

*points at the worm* WORM FRIEND! WORM FRIEND!

I originally wanted to include this somewhere in the story, but I imagine that Hades found the Erica flower the day before he saw Kore for the first time. Perfect timing!

Speaking of Hades and Kore, Hades would usually wear his Helm of Darkness when watching Kore from the shadows, and even though she’s bound to the Underworld now, the habit of feeling unseen is hard to break (he’s called the Unseen One for a reason, after all.) How is Kore able to sense him, even when most gods wouldn’t be able to? Perhaps something deeply entwines their souls, deeper than the magic of the helm.

Alright, I think those were the major things I wanted to say. With Ms. Emmibee’s permission, I’ll be posting this to my AO3 and FFN accounts soon. Thanks to invader-amethyst for sending out the spark for this story, and of course to Ms. Emmibee for coming up with this whole AU (and the AUs within that AU). I’ll see you around. Until then!

~~~~~

AAAAA I love this so much!!!!!!

1) I love how you always put meanings into the flowers!!

2) They’re definitely married in some sense; probably had a small, private ceremony with just them and some officiant. Or do gods need an officiant? They pretty much ARE the highest authority.

3) WORM FRIEND

4) I feel like Gaster is just going to be awkward no matter what universe he’s in. Sweet awkward man.

5) Please do post it! I can’t wait to see it!!!!!

Many thanks again for this wonderful story!!!

[tiikeria]

Patron of the Poor, Protector of Outcasts

Title: Patron of the Poor, Protector of Outcasts Ship(s): None Rating: T Warning(s): Language Words: 1,874 words Summary: “I am Midas, God of Gold. Patron of the Poor and Protector of Outcasts. Wherever poverty and the downtrodden go, I’m needed. And Los Santos was full of it.” Notes: Huh. Two fics in two weeks? Am I feeling okay? I also have a third planned, and my lovely co-creator Pchew has one going as well. We like this AU bit too much. Anyway, enjoy!

Gavin didn’t like showing off what he could do. The more you played close to yourself, the more people underestimated you. That’s how he got such a reputation as a bumbling idiot. No one suspected the dumb one to swindle you out of everything, now did they?

But something was endearing about the childlike wonder Michael and Jeremy watched him with when he used his powers. Even the smallest thing seemed to capture their attention. His fellow Lads were so curious about what he could do, and, honestly, it was refreshing. Normally people regarded the gold from his hands with distrust and fear.

“So, what can you make?” Jeremy asked one afternoon, a lazy Sunday playing games and just enjoying each other’s company, “I mean, with the gold. Like, can you shape it, or is it just a flood, like before?”

Michael snorted, putting down his controller, “Jeremy just wants to know if you can make him a golden Spyro.”

“I do not!”

Gavin laughed, but produced the aforementioned dragon in his palm, shining brilliantly in the afternoon sun, “Shame, that, because I happen to have one, yeah?”

Jeremy’s pure joy and awe almost made him blush, “Okay, I do really want a golden Spyro, holy shit that is so fucking cool.”

“You think everything Spyro is cool, though.”

“I’m a simple man,” Jeremy stated, still staring longingly at the golden figure in Gavin’s hand, “I see Spyro, I’m happy. Same thing with whiskey.”

Giggles erupt from Gavin’s lips as he tosses the dragon to Jeremy, “Sorry, I can’t make golden whiskey. That’ll have to do.”

Michael huffs as Jeremy cradles his new toy like a father cradles a newborn, “What about me? What do I get? How dare you gift this schmuck something before you gift your Boi something! Does Boiship mean nothing to you, anymore!?”

“Michael, no, Michael!” More laughter bubbled from Gavin’s chest, “You’re my Boi, Michael! Jeremy’s my Lil J, but you’re my Boi! I have something for you, yeah? How about this?”

Gavin makes a show of it since he had their undivided attention, and because he could without the worry of scaring them. With a flourish, he presents Michael with a small, blocky, golden sword. Michael pretends to not be impressed, but Gavin can see the awe and joy in Michael’s eyes.

“Gold swords are for chumps, Boi!”

Gavin pretends to be offended, all part of the games they all play with each other, “I don’t bloody shit diamonds, Michael! But if you get me some, I might be persuaded to give you an upgrade.”

“You can do that?!” Jeremy perks up from where he had been admiring his little Spyro, “You can make diamond swords?”

“Well,” Gavin hums, “I can make swords. I’m sure making one out of diamonds isn’t impossible, yeah? Just have to figure it out. We could make a day of it, lads! I could teach you how to be smithies, just like I used to in the 1800s!”

“I always forget how fucking old you are,” Michael shakes his head, “I mean, you talk about the 1800s like it was last fucking year.”

“I’m only 3000 years old or summat. That’s nothing compared to other Gods!”

“‘Only 3000,’” Michael mocked in a high, squeaky, British accent, ignoring Gavin’s whines to stop being a “smegpot.” Jeremy laughed in turn at Gavin’s pout, but not unkindly, “You old ass Greek fuck.”

“If you’re Greek,” Jeremy giggled, “Why the fuck are you British?”

“What? What do you mean, ‘why am I British?’”

Jeremy throws his hands up in the air, “You were born in Ancient Greece. You lived in Ancient Greece for a long fucking time. You’ve lived in the US for a few decades. So why the fuck did you decide to be British?”

“Because I lived in the British Isles for over a century, Jeremy! I came over with the Romans and never bloody well left! I’m probably more British than Greek anymore, yeah?”

“I don’t think that’s how that works.”

“That’s not how you work,” Gavin grumbles petulantly, earning him a snort from the two other Lads.

“So you’re fake British. What the fuck made you come to Los Santos of all places? I mean, you went from European shithole to American super shithole.”

Gavin stretches out on the white sectional that took up most of the Fakes’ living room, sun streaming in the floor to ceiling windows making his skin look more golden than it really was. Jeremy and Michael settle down similarly, the quiet music from their abandoned game the only other sound in the room as Gavin collected his thoughts.

“Now that’s a question, innit?” He finally says, leveling them with a lopsided smile, “You know I’m God of Gold, yeah?”

“Of course,” Jeremy instantly answers, to which Gavin hums.

“That’s not all I’m God of. Most gods have other domains as well, like Artemis being Goddess of the Hunt, but also of Childbirth. Or Apollo being God of Medicine as well as Music and Prophesy. I also have other domains.

“Akakios contacted me a few decades ago, about 40 years, really, and said he found a city that needed me. He had been living in the States for quite a while at that point, from the Northeast to the South to the Midwest. Everywhere, yeah? But he had never said that about any of the cities he visited. So, I knew he had to be serious to even consider that a city needed my help.”

Both Michael and Jeremy watch Gavin closely as Gavin turns to look out over the city through the windows. Eventually, when Gavin didn’t start up again, Michael piped up, “So what else are you God of that made it so you could help Los Santos?”

Gavin smiled softly, “I am Midas, God of Gold. Patron of the Poor and Protector of Outcasts. Wherever poverty and the downtrodden go, I’m needed. And Los Santos was full of it. Corruption was even worse than it is now. At least 80% of the population was below the poverty level. Almost 30% were homeless. Kios saw these people and knew I could help them somehow. So, I boarded the next flight from London and got to work.”

“Jesus,” Jeremy breathed, “You fixed Los Santos?”

“I still am, yeah? Until these people no longer pray to me, I’m needed.”

The three were quiet for a moment, as Gavin watched the sun dip lower in the sky out the windows, buildings glinting in the late afternoon sun like steel and glass gemstones. He still had so much work to do to get Los Santos to where he’d be happy leaving it. So many were still born into poverty. Too many homeless and alone. He did what he could, but he was one God against a society that didn’t care.

Gavin started when Michael finally spoke, the tone in his voice leaving no room for argument. Gavin knew that tone very well. Michael had made up his mind about something and wasn’t about to be swayed.

“So, what can we do to help clean up the shit?”

“I…what?”

“You heard me. How can the crew help? We have more money than sense anymore. And most of us grew up in lower-class dumps like Los Santos. Hell, Fiona was raised here. I’ve been on the streets, and it sucks major doo doo. So, how can we help you make this place a level above a turd?”

Gavin felt a swell of emotion for his Boi, that extended to Jeremy when he saw him nod in agreement. Both of them were watching him in rapt attention as if soldiers waiting on their orders. And Gavin…well, Gavin knew exactly what they could do. A grin curled on his lips as he pulled out his phone to call a crew meeting.

“Boys…I think we need a heist.”

A few weeks later, the news would tell a peculiar tale. Someone had broken into dozens of homes of wealthy Los Santos citizens, all in one night. Nothing was taken but the clothes in their closets, and the food in their cupboards.

Meanwhile, every legitimate shelter in Los Santos, homeless camps, and charities received an anonymous donation of clothes and food. The only note was emblazoned with a green duck and written in gold ink.

Enjoy your donations. Make sure they’re used. We’ll be watching over you.

Of course, this didn’t make the news. Stories of the lower class never did. But that was just fine for the culprits; they didn’t do it for the fame or the fortune. No, they did it for the people. The people of their city.

It took a while before the police caught on to what the crew was doing. Sure, they still hit banks, but the majority of the stolen notes would end up funding an after-school program for at-risk youth. Expensive items would go missing, only to end up at a charity auction for a women’s center. And those few good officers saw what the crew was trying to accomplish. For the first time, the Fakes had allies in the LSPD; not many, but it was a start.

And the crew themselves seemed to have a new spark. Excitement in the air when they all sat down to plan the next heist, with the next recipient of their Robin Hooding. Jack heisted for a Children’s Hospital and they ended up with a small green duck on the new mural for the playground at the hospital’s campus. Geoff bolstered local AA and addiction groups, giving them the resources they needed to reach more people. Jeremy and Michael worked together to create boxing and wrestling programs for low-income kids. Matt and Trevor created STEM programs. Fiona worked on LBGT programs. Lindsay was adamant about helping the animals of Los Santos.

They all had their niche. And, together, they did their best to make good in the city.

Gavin was overjoyed, to say the least. To see the people he cared about the most helping him make the city a better place was everything he had ever hoped for. He still got prayers daily, almost hourly, but they were coming less as people had more places to turn for help. Of course, he would always answer the call, if needed, but he could finally relax after 40 years of doing everything he could to raise the city from its rough beginnings.

And he started to see a shift in the people as well. They were helping each other, raising each other from where they had fallen. Injustice was being spoken out against. Marches were organized for victims of senseless violence. People were donating more of their time and money to helping those around them. Gang wars turned into alliances against corruption. Ballas and Vagos worked side-by-side on cleaning up the rec center that bordered their territories. The Families extended protection to those too weak to fight for themselves, with no payment needed. Even Madrazo’s Cartel could be seen handing out food and blankets to the homeless.

Something had changed. Something had shifted.

Maybe there was still hope for Los Santos after all.

[blankblankityblank]

Just, don’t wake up

Hi everyone! This is my fic for the @starkerkink exchange, dedicated to @vaguekiwi! I really hope you enjoy it :)

Pairing: Peter Parker x Tony Stark

High school AU, with superpowers.

Tony’s home life has never been amazing, but one night, it’s just too much for him. He flies blindly to the first destination he can think of in his battered suit, holding his breath when he realises exactly who’s house he’s flown to. He doubts this evening will be normal, especially when he realises there’s only one bed.

Warnings: Masturbation, Flogging, Name-calling, Restraints, slightly dub-con, both 17. Check ao3 for further warnings!

Read on ao3!

Tony arrived late to class, as usual. Peter sighed, the usual thought flitting through his head: How does he always manage to arrive late, even with a full body suit that flies?

The teacher for their class, AP Bio, glanced at Tony unimpressed but unsurprised-this was a regular occurrence, and it showed.

Tony waltzed to his seat with the usual I-really-don’t-give-a-shit attitude, plonking down and prompt executing a yawn. Peter rolled his eyes; did he always have that look on his hot face? How did he even get into AP Bio when he didn’t even pay attention? Oh yeah, that’s right-Howard Stark’s son, prodigy at 4, bla bla bla. Peter needed a break from the constant ‘Tony Stark made his own suit’ fawning that half the girls, and guys, constantly exhibited. Like yeah, big deal-was anyone gonna talk about Peter’s amazing skills to do with web fluid? Or crafting his own suits, which, well, didn’t always go particularly well?

“And today, we will be taking a bit of an off-topic turn into some neurobiology! Chemicals and hormones produced by the brain!” The teacher sang, trying to mask her own boredom with the unresponsive class, “who can tell me what the four main hormones to do with happiness contain?”

Peter shot his hand up, excited that he for once knew the answer to the question before smart-ass Tony.

“The four main chemicals are endorphins, dopamine, serotonin, and oxytocin, often abbreviated as D.O.S.E,” Peter stated. Tony slowly turned around in his chair, and glared at him. Peter just smirked. ‘One day,’ he mouthed at the growingly frustrated classmate.

“Very good! Can someone tell me what each of these hormones’ functions are?” Their teacher again asked. Peter’s hand shot up for the second time, his mouth forming a smirk in sync.

--------------------------------

“Well well well, if it isn’t smart-ass Parker in a sticky situation?” Tony purred, his smooth voice richoeing off of the poorly-designed science lab. Peter sighed, closing his eyes in preparation before facing the problem.

“Does it look like I don’t know what I’m doing? Wouldn’t wanna steal your thunder now, would I?” He snarked back, trying to stir his web fluid in peace. The teacher had allowed his class 15 minutes of time to work on their various powers, any tweaks or fixes being attended to. Tony had apparently finished oiling up his suit, but Peter had no such privilege.

Tony flicked the back of Peter’s head as he strutted away, going over to talk to Steve and Bucky. Goddamned overpowered mutants. Ok, so maybe Peter was a tiny bit jealous of their friendship, but that was his business.

He dispensed the web fluid with a sigh, getting ready to pack up and head back to his apartment, and hopefully blow off some steam with a Star Wars movie night. He smiled softly to himself; maybe the day wouldn’t be so bad after all. He could chill with may, have some hot chocolate, quote every line of Empire Strikes Back because he totally doesn’t know it word for word.

The bell rang, immediately followed by a cacophony of bags zipping, several whirring sounds as various students fired up their ride home. Peter ducked his head down, knowing his power wasn’t as rich or powerful as his classmates’ privileged ones. And they didn’t even know it, how lucky they were. They’d never know what it’s like to be born with stickiness and a general strength upgrade. No super-advanced knowledge of tech, engineering, how to fly, being able to fly...everything that separated him from the rest of his peers.

Peter swung his backpack over his shoulder, cursing as his AP Bio textbook dropped onto the ground, setting off a too-loud thump on the concrete floor. A few heads swivelled in his direction, and Peter flushed as he hurriedly picked the offending book up, and returned it to its rightful place. Face still hot, he all but rushed out of the classroom, eager to change into his suit and get this day over with.

“Hey! Parker! Wait up, for fuck’s sake. You dropped two books, not one, you blind-ass bat,” Tony hollered, his feet slapping against the linoleum. Peter grabbed the exercise book from Tony’s offering hand, not dignifying the teen with a response. Ok, so maybe it was a bit harsh. But he had to stay ice-cold around Tony; if it got out Parker had a crush, it would not go down well. At. All.

“You’re not even gonna say thanks?” Tony spluttered in disbelief, hand still outstretched.

“Nope,” Peter replied, popping the ‘p’.

“Pretty sure I deserve some recognition, I could have just left that book on the floor for some other snotty-nosed kid to find,” Tony said indignantly, hand returned to his side.

“Well then don’t do it next time. I don’t give a shit, Stark,” Peter fired back, attempting to quell his progressingly noticeable butterflies.

Tony opened his mouth in a retort, but instead opted for an eye roll and spun on his heel. Probably to get back to his fancy 5 star penthouse, Peter thought bitterly. He headed to the bathrooms, diligently fighting his instinct to catch a glance of that ass. God, he was so, so gone.

-------------------------

Peter entered his apartment silently, not wanting to disturb May. He kicked off his shoes, deflating his suit and carrying the rest of his belongings to his room. Or, his cave, as May liked to call it. The 16 year old dungeon was another favourite of hers.

“May? ‘M home..” He trailed off when the bright Post-it note caught his eye. He frowned, peeling it off the bench and reading the bubbly handwriting. ‘Picked up an extra shift, be home tomorrow at 7! Sorry I couldn’t make it tonight kiddo xx’ Well. He could kiss his plans of venting to may goodbye, it seemed. Hot chocolate and a movie night still lifted his hopes, albeit less enthusiastic with no one to share it with now. The teen hummed the Star Wars theme song as he boiled the water and got his hot chocolate ready. He finished his task from earlier, dumping his stuff in an impossibly messy room that cleaning seemed impossible. There were things he didn’t want to uncover by doing so.

The TV flickered to life, selecting the chosen movie as directed by Peter. He sipped on his hot chocolate, swearing softly when the liquid burnt his tongue. It’d probably need to cool, considering the loss of feeling in his taste buds. The TV screen suddenly paused the movie, indicating the buffering icon as the infuriatingly slow loading bar popped up.

“For fucks’ sake…” Peter muttered, deciding to take a quick shower to pass the time. He didn’t bother getting clothes, seeing as he was the only one home. He padded to the bathroom, turning the shower on and watching as the water slowly began to produce steam. He then stripped, chucking his clothes into the overflowing hamper and stepping into the soothing water. He let it wash over him, adjusting himself to the temperature as he scrubbed himself with vanilla soap, the day’s events flicking hazily through his mind.

The teen looked down, noticing his growing hard-on. Maybe his thoughts about Tony had taken a...darker turn. He palmed himself half-heartedly, almost jolting when the spark of arousal ran through his body. He groaned softly to himself, putting more energy into pumping his hard on. His precum provided lubricant, his hand going up and down faster and faster until he was right on the edge and it felt so good, and-

Peter pulled his hand off, letting his erect cock bob helplessly in the air. He was breathing hard, not having reached his orgasm. It just...it didn’t feel right. He rubbed soap on his body again, his dick slowly returning to it’s normal size.

The shower came to a close after 15 minutes of staring at the wall, he may or may not have been thinking about a certain black head of hair, brown eyes flecked with gold, the body of a Greek god...maybe he lost track of time, but it was time well spent in Peter’s opinion. He towelled himself off with less energy, suddenly losing the motivation to actually dry himself off-probably because all his brain power was used trying to figure out a certain someone’s personality.

He plopped onto his nest of blankets and pillows, smiling when he saw the movie was ready to watch again. He hit play, content with the world at last.

That is, until some fucking idiot banged, not knocked, banged, on Peter’s door. He resolutely ignored it, turning the volume of the TV to max. Until, the banging didn’t stop. It just kept going. And going. And going-

“This better be a real good fucking reason,” Peter snarled, pausing his movie with more force than he probably needed to, and he stomped to the door.

The assault on the door didn’t stop, even when Peter yelled ‘Coming!’ to try and ease the banging. It did not succeed. He swung open the door, fuming, the epitome of annoyance as expressed on his face. He was ready to give this newcomer a piece of his mind, what, interrupting his fucking movie night, the audacity-

The words died in his throat as he looked up to launch a deadly glare, only to be met with chocolate brown eyes, flecked with gold, a soft pink cupid’s bow, the presence of stubble beginning to form a goatee, and oh wait, he’s seen this before, wait a minute-

“Tony?” He spluttered, taking a step back as he took in the scene before him. Tony, in a banged up suit he probably used as his transportation, his hand poised to bang at the door again. Tony’s expression mirrored Peter’s, a mixture of shock and confusion. Unlike Peter’s, Tony’s cleared quickly, and formed a new expression-one of almost desperation.

“Look, Parker, I’m sorry alright? I just...I need somewhere to stay tonight,” he rubbed a hand over his face, “forget it. I knew it was stupid to come, sorry for wasting your time I guess,” he muttered, already pivoting on his heel. Without his conscious consent, Peter grabbed Tony’s arm as he turned away. They both froze, neither knowing what Peter did.

“Wait, I...you can stay, Tony. You can come in, I just was watching Empire Strikes Back,” Peter ranted, gently tugging Tony inside. The latter seemed to be in a state of shock, obviously not expecting the positive response.

“Empire Strikes Back? You would be watching that, of all movies,” Tony snarked, recovering quickly from his bout of shock.

“You’re the guest, at least try to be nice,” Peter countered, blushing at the tips of his ears from embarrassment. He huffed, flopping onto his comfortable collection of pillows. He raised an eyebrow meaningfully at Tony, who looked a little out of place with his scratched suit. Peter was curious, but didn’t pry-there was obviously something that caused Tony to come in so suddenly.

“Being nice? To Parker? Talk to me when you have an achievable goal,” Tony grumbled, walking around to tour Peter’s apartment. Peter hoped it would be up to his standards. Wait, no he didn’t, Tony’s standards didn’t matter to him. At all.

Peter resumed his movie, soon becoming engrossed in the iconic plotline that he’d seen hundreds of times before, yet it never failed to make him excited. Tony watched his classmate from the shadows, the smile on Peter’s face contagious. His auburn curls, sharp jawline...Picture perfect Tony mused, as the lights from the movie danced across Peter’s angelic features. Tony shook his head, afraid of getting caught in the act-someone that beautiful would never return his feelings.

The depressing thought prompted Tony to emerge from the shadows, gliding over to where Peter was laying down and slumped nearby, resigning himself to the fact he’d have to watch this nerd movie. His suit whirred in the corner, fixing its own malfunctions as Tony had programmed it to.

“I don’t even know what the fuck is going on, Parker,” Tony muttered, the movie’s plot confusing him due to the lack of knowledge in previous films.

Peter just smiled, deciding it would take too long to explain the plot. Tony saw this, and a small smile spread across his face, too. It was nice to have a friend that just accepted you into their home, even if you had no explanation. Well, he couldn’t really tell the boy his explanation. Home was...a bit hard to go to at the moment, not that he’d ever tell Parker. He glanced at the serene expression on Peter’s face again, taking in the pure joy as he watched his seemingly favourite movie. Yeah, he was not gonna spoil that expression. Not ever.

--------------------------------

The movie’s credits rolled, signifying the end of the movie night. Tony softly blew out through his nose, wondering if it would be overstepping to stay the night. Before he could dig a hole of despair within himself, Peter noticed his obvious inner battle. Deciding to put the rivalry behind him for now, he reached out to Tony, gently touching his arm and effectively grabbing his attention.

“We should head to bed...if you’re ok with that,” Peter murmured, gently tugging Tony’s arm as he stood up.

Tony sucked in a breath at sparks of pleasure that rippled through him as Peter’s hand lingered. He got to his feet, following Peter through the apartment, taking in the few decorations and pictures. He paused at an old picture of an obviously much younger picture of Peter, sitting on a man’s shoulders. He looked so...well, happy. Tony frowned; what had happened? Not wanting to intrude, he tucked the question away for later, and hurried to catch up with Peter.

“So, this is it. The humble abode, I guess,” Peter chuckled nervously, giving a dramatic wave with his hands. Tony looked around, taking in the worn twin bed, well-read books mounted on shelves that looked as if they could fall at any minute, the stained dresser, obviously the victim of many late-night hot chocolate spills. Tony could feel a slight smile tugging at his lips-this felt like Peter.

“Humble, huh. Didn’t know you were a Potter fan,” Tony smirked, gesturing at the aforementioned books. A red blush tinted the teen’s cheeks as he rushed to defend himself.

“I’ll have you know Harry Potter is a very famous series, thank you very much,” he huffed, crossing his arms. The following silence was comfortable, Peter rifling through his dresser as he looked for his pyjamas. He succeeded, muttering a soft ‘aha’ at the victory, and turned to head to the bathroom.

“Get yourself comfy, you can sleep wherever, couch or bed,” Peter stated, trying not to blush for a third time in an hour. He made quick work of changing, exiting the bathroom once he was satisfied with his appearance. A new toothbrush smacked Tony in the back of the head, credits of Peter.

“The fuck, Parker? Why couldn’t you just ask me to turn around,” Tony muttered, grabbing the toothbrush and making his way to the meager bathroom. He cleaned his teeth, checked his face for any signs of, well, outstanding blemishes, and once satisfied, returned to the bedroom. Peter was already in the bed, having turned off the lights and receiving a wave of sleepiness that he couldn’t refuse.

Tony hesitated before quietly sliding in beside Peter, careful not to touch him in hopes of keeping him comfortable. After all, this was Peter’s bed. He shifted, finding the proximity a little too...exciting.

Peter stirred, muttering something incomprohensive that sounded suspiciously like ‘Stop fucking moving,’ which Tony grudgingly obeyed. He found himself drifting sooner than he usually did; maybe it was the company that finally got his eyes to close, who knows. It just felt good to be cared about.

--------------------------

“Fuck, harder Tony,” Peter cried out, relishing the feeling of the flogger on his burnt ass, “please. Please Tony, ah!”

Tony whipped mercilessly, painting the teen’s ass and lower back a pretty scarlet colour. He knew Peter loved it, despite the whimpers of pain as he relentlessly assaulted his body, again and again.

“Little slut, begging for me to stop like a good little bitch. Ask me nicely, I might consider,” Tony snarled, drinking in the moans that came tumbling out of Peter’s mouth at the sentence.

“P-please, I promise I’ll be your good little cockslut, please just let me go,” Peter repeated, rolling his eyes back from pleasure. His cock twitched at the constant stimulation, begging for touch, but Peter couldn’t move, the restraints preventing him from relief.

Tony growled, pausing the flogging at 15 hits. “You better live up to that, whore,” he snarled, taking in the sight before him. Peter, bound to the bed face-down, bent over the back, ass on display. His petite frame quivered in anticipation, preparing for more of the flogging.

“Yes, Tony, I promise I’ll be good, no more,” Peter begged, too aroused to care how desperate he might sound. He jerked his hips forward, trying and failing miserably to acquire friction for his painfully hard dick.

Tony untied the restraints slowly, careful not to hurt his lover any more, now that the scene was over. Peter sobbed, reaching down almost immediately to try and relieve his aching cock. Tony slapped Peter’s hand away, taking the matters into his own hands.

“Such a naughty boy, trying to touch yourself without permission. What do we say?” Tony crooned, teasing Peter’s tip. The latter cried out, grinding against Tony’s hand in hopes of release.

“‘M sorry, so sorry, please, please let me-ah!” Peter abruptly cut off his rambling as Tony took him in hand, stroking along his length tantalisingly. Peter sobbed, crying out as the feeling grew. He centered in on the sensation Tony was giving him, pumping his dick with such earnest it was almost too much, the heat building in his lower abdomen, ready to burst-

Peter woke up with a start, acutely aware of his burning arousal. Oh. Oh shit. He just had one of those dreams...about Tony. Who was right next to him. Peter sucked in a breath, his eyes going wide. He calculated his options, quickly realising he couldn’t move without waking him up.

He cursed the lack of space in the bed, horror taking over as his arousal became too prominent to ignore. He whined softly into his pillow, at loss with how to deal with the predicament. How did things go so badly wrong so soon?

As if things couldn’t get any worse, Tony elicited a groan in the silence of the room and shifted to that his hip was pressed against Peter’s...problem. He unconsciously bucked into the stimulation, immediately regretting the action as Tony groaned again and moved, if possible, closer to his dick. Well, wasn’t this just amazing.

----------------------------

Tony awoke from his sweet abyss of darkness, groaning in annoyance. What had woken him up? He thought he’d heard a whimper, but that couldn’t be right. He shuffled closer to his warm pillow, which promptly moved back against him. Tony froze; pillows weren’t supposed to move. Pillows...also didn’t have a bulge. He recovered quickly, a smirk slowly growing when he realised what had happened here. Parker was hard. So, so hard.

Tony groaned again, this time intentionally shifting against Peter’s bulge to try and gauge how exactly this was going to play out. He was met almost immediately with a response as Peter grinded against him. Tony stifled a moan; it was insanely hot, how responsive Peter was. He was obviously trying to hold back, covering his mouth as he desperately sought relief against Tony. The latter helpfully shifted again, receiving a small squeak in response. Peter’s hand snaked down to his cock, unable to hold back anymore. Tony closed his eyes, savouring this moment-possibly the only time he’d get to be this intimate with his crush, even if he was ‘asleep’.

Peter palmed against his sweats, the pleasure making his breathing uneven as he neared his climax. He felt so bad for doing this with Tony in the same bed, but he was past the point of being able to control his movements. The pressure built up inside him like a spring coiled at it’s base, as he desperately rutted against his hand, when it all became too much-and Peter went rigid. The white-hot pleasure consumed his body, racking through him in wave after wave as he tried to silently ride out his orgasm. The spurts of come soaked his boxers, but Peter was too out of his mind to care as the high slowly came down. His breathing was hard and his sweats were cold and sticky, but the aftershocks of the orgasm jerked his softening cock.

The world slowly came back to him as Peter blinked a couple times, trying to orient himself. The first thing he thought was oh shit, now I’ll have to lie in this mess until Tony wakes up.

That is, until he realised a tiny detail. Tony’s back and hip was completely covered. In. Peter’s. Cum.

Peter looked up slowly, the horror beginning to consume him. His entire body froze when Tony looked right back at him.

[midnightbluefox]

The Reylo Writing Den ( @thereylowritingden ) recently celebrated its one year anniversary, and part of our celebration included a fic exchange! The theme this time was what makes Reylo special to you and what you’ve come to love in the fics that you’ve read or written. Favorite tropes or one you’ve wanted to see done, an idea you’ve been wanting to read, a twist on the first Reylo fic you fell in love with, etc. 

Because of the theme, we got a huge variety of fics written submitted by over forty extremely talented writers. Please enjoy and support our lovely and giving authors <3

+ fic is mature/explicit

* fic is a WIP/ currently incomplete

________________________

+ Night Music by @thelastmorozova for @3todream3 :  Kylo getting it on with Rey while still wearing his gloves and helmet.

+* This Game We Play by @midnightbluefox for @sand-its-everywhere : Rey’s always thought her roommate was attractive, but when she catches him with only a towel on, a contest slowly ensues to see who can drive the other more insane as time goes on.

Or, where Rey and Ben are both idiots in denial and refuse to give in.

+* Red Letter by @ohwise1ne for crossingwinter : His old name—the one no one calls him anymore, no one even knows—stretches in bold lettering across the front of the envelope.

There is no record of that person living in this apartment building. Ben has made sure of it.

They’ve found him anyway.

When Ben is summoned to be bonded with a compatible Alpha mate, everything he’s worked for comes crashing down—especially when she turns out to be the rising protégé of his enemy.

+* When Little Somethings Overturn Everything by CaffeinatedJediRey for @rrwilson66 : Rey's got it all: fantastic friends, a great mother, and a promising tenure-track job as a history professor. Yet, on the eve of her 31st birthday, Rey finds herself wondering where her life's headed while she's eating by herself after a conference presentation.

Ben Solo, a rival professor from her department, joins her for dinner after seeing her dining alone. He turns out to be more than she expects.

Let's just say things will not go the way Rey thinks they will.

+* Clear Skies by @eveningeyes for CaffeinatedJediRey : A handsome smuggler is found sneaking through Starkiller Base, and to Kira Ren's dismay, Snoke hires the guy to take her to find Leia Organa's secret Resistance base.

OR

INTERGALACTIC ROAD TRIP 2019]

+ A Five Percent Chance by @sand-its-everywhere for @hellomelusine :  Ben is alone, and he likes it that way. He keeps to himself, and doesn't really want or need a relationship, but that doesn't stop his mother from trying to set him up with random people... until one day she sets him up with his childhood best friend... and both of them make it their mission for this to be the worst date ever... after all, they've got one hundred dollars promised to them by Leia if it is.

Blushing PINK by @tazwren for @kylotrashforever : Ben Solo is struck by a beautiful girl, for the first time in his life, but has no clue how to talk to her. Enter a friend who gives him highly questionable advice.

Or - how Ben Solo bought bags of lingerie for a non-existent girlfriend!

+ Fucking PINK by @tazwren for @kylotrashforever: Ben and Rey and all those bags of lingerie he bought.

Or - how Ben Solo is a virgin no more.

+* Delicate Matters by @kylotrashforever for @erney007 : His senses trickle back in, and he realizes something is covering his face. Reaching, he snatches the gauzy material that he recognizes is lace of some sort, holding it out in front of him and squinting his eyes.

What the fuck?

He knows without a doubt, with one hundred percent certainty, that he did not have a woman here last night.

So why the fuck is there a pair of women’s underwear on his face?

In which something falls into Ben’s lap (or more accurately his face) that he didn’t expect.

+* is this a sacrifice?  by @deadlikemoi for @kylosgirl9593 : "What are you giving up for Lent?" The question is posed to Rey by a friend of Rose's, a girl who goes by KK, and Rey has to search her mind for an answer.

That is the problem with going to a University that is religiously affiliated; most people assume that you follow that same tenet without bothering to ask, and it has gotten her into trouble more than a few times.

"Rey's not—" Finn tries to save her, it is a valiant effort, but the filter between her mouth and her brain is undergoing routine maintenance and a few words squeak through before she can stop herself.

"Sex. I'm giving up sex for Lent."

+ Bobbing Along by @polkadotdotdotreylo for @sweetkyloren : Ever since an incident as a child, Rey has had a fear of the water.

When your boyfriend owns a pool, who better to teach you how to swim?

+ A Poetic Match by @commandercrouton for @polkadotdotdotreylo : It didn’t matter who was here at the moment. The only thing Rey could focus on was that scent. Her wide hazel eyes circled the room as she tried to see the one who was emitting those delectable pheromones. How was no one else in this room reacting? The smell was making her crazy, and she dug her nails into her skin. She would know this scent anywhere.

She found him frozen by the podium, staring at her with the same look she knew she was giving him. She felt her thighs clench in anticipation as memories of their last, and only, time together filled her brain.

“Rey, is everything okay? Your scent...shifted,” Poe inquired tentatively.

“What?” she asked, not willing to take her eyes off the man in front of the room.

“Why is Professor Solo staring at you like you killed his pet cat?”

At this statement, Rey looked at Poe, realization dawning on her. No, not this, anything but this. This wasn’t a professor. He was something entirely different to her.

Alpha.

+* By The Moonlight by @my-jedi-life for @eveningeyes : Kylo Ren is being hailed as the "next Stan Lee" in the world of graphic novelists... but he holds a secret. His books are really about his life.

Rey Kenobi is an up and coming journalist who lands the interview of a lifetime with Kylo Ren.

* Black Ties & White Lies by @happilyeveraftereveryday for @looc-at-me : The plan was simple. Sneak in, kick Paige's ex-boyfriend's ass, then sneak out. But Rey did not plan on arguing with an unfairly hot but unsurprisingly elitist Greek god of a man while looking for said ex-boyfriend, especially when he took offense to her refusing to dance with him for some reason.

And she definitely didn't plan on kissing him.

Or how a masquerade party leads to unexpected actions, feelings, and consequences, along with Ben Solo's Cinderella dashing away without even leaving him a shoe behind. Nevertheless, he's determined to find her.

+* Your Eyes (Are Holding Up the Sky) by @em-is-writing for DagaGada :  Ben Solo life is falling apart (as much as one high school senior's life can) - he's failing Pre-Calculus, has been put on academic probation, and can't play on the basketball team until he pulls his grades up. When he's assigned a tutor, he thinks this will be an unmitigated disaster. Life has other plans.

+ But Not To Me by @littlethingsfic for ArdeaJestin : “…Ben?”

He memorizes every detail of her face — flushed cheeks, creased brows, dark eyelashes, wisps of loose hair — framed by the eerie quiet of their destruction. His body is restless like it might burst at the seams, thrilled and dazed by her, by their conquest, by their…

He searches for the words to say but everything sounds wrong. He charges in and decides not to say anything at all,

“Rey, I don’t care about the kriffing fleet —”

He grabs her and kisses her hard.

+ Cheers to Phasma’s Flaming Vibrator by @3todream3 for @rakefiree :  An unfortunate office fire has caused renovations, and the ever punctual Ben Solo has to share an office with Rey Johnson with whom he has a history. He just wish he could remember what he did to piss her off. She apparently doesn't like him much and annoys him with Candy Crush and other little things, not letting him get any work done. Being cooped up in the small office is going to be the death of Ben. What on earth could happen when tempers flare and hormones go crazy???

+* Seven Days with my Toes in the Sand by @erney007 for @em-is-writing :  Memory in his dream, emptiness in his hand, with his toes in the sand. Will she be the one who shows him how to love again?

Desert Magic by @roguesinside for @spiegatrixlestrange : He was hungry, always so hungry. He sweated through the sheets when he dreamed of the desert sun. Shivered under piles of blanket when the sand was lit only by the moons. He tried to magic up an apple, a glass of cool water but the lifeforce around him was so dim that the simple charm wasted away in the desert sand.

The dreams saved him.

+ Oh Captain, My Captain by @elleren31 for @littlethingsfic : In the midst of the Civil War, telegraph officer Captain Samuel Beckwith returns to Washington D.C. and is immediately taken by a beautiful young farmwoman. But love in a time of war can be difficult, especially when you work for the President of the United States.

Historical accuracy AND inaccuracies. Earns its rating later on.

+* Royal Blood by @sweetkyloren for @deadlikemoi : Rey has lived on the streets of Aldera for as long as she can remember but when an aide to Queen Leia takes Rey under her wing she finds herself living a life most can only dream about.

In the years that follow, Rey soon finds herself falling for her two best friends who also happen to be the two heirs to the throne: Ben and Kylo.

+ Ready For It? by @rrwilson66 for @elleren31 :   A tale as old as time, the story of a beast of a killer and a beautiful thief fighting to be together.

+* Unrequited by @rakefiree for @reyloandotherfandoms : Ben loves Rey. Rey loves Ben.

He thinks she loves someone else. She thinks he knows how she feels and doesn't reciprocate the feelings.

What happens when they are trapped in the same house for a weekend?

OR

Welcome to Ben and Rey Pain Train! We have a dog... and stuff.

+* Swipes and Seduction (a tinder AU) by @galaxytrueffle for @tazwren : “Ben.” Was still a faceless and detail-less individuum on tinder. Thus he needed to add his career, height and a little text- before rounding up his introduction with a photograph.

Ben. Corporate lawyer. 189 cm.

What else was there to say about him?

“Hi. I am Ben. 32 years old. I work as a tax lawyer for a well known automotive company. My wife died and now I am a single parent- I work all the time and have literally no hobbies beside working out, one weekly WoW session and spending time with my child on the weekends. Oh- and I haven’t had sex for ages. So if you are interested- match me?”

That is what he should have written- the reality.

But- this was the internet...he didn’t have to be so honest. Especially not in the beginning.

.....

IT’S A MATCH!

You and Rey<3 have liked each other.

+* Not All Those Who Wander Are Lost by @loveofescapism for @reyloner : “Okay, what if you do find them and they send you away?”

“They won’t.”

“How do you know that?” he asked, and for once he looked like he was genuinely curious to hear her answer. Which, if he wasn’t pissing her off so much, she would have answered much nicer than she did.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I’m their daughter?” she said sarcastically, “They had a good reason for giving me up, you’ll see.”

---

Rey is traveling the world to find her birth parents after her guardian Maz passes way. She was excited to rediscover herself and more importantly, where she came from. The only thing she wasn't excited about, was the fact that Ben Solo was tagging along for the journey, his pen and notebook in hand.  

+ A wonderous place for you and me by @kylosgirl9593 for @galaxytrueffle : It's Ben Solo's 30th birthday and his friends decide to throw him a little 'Party’ Rey however has a few *special* presents for Ben. ------------ Ben laid on the ground, hands up in surrender. Rey had one foot on his chest, pinning him down to the ground, he could easily take her down, but he had to accept his defeat.“You had to know this was coming. You just had to. You couldn’t run from me forever, Solo,” she said as she pointed the gun to his chest. She smiled in victory. “Game over.” She pulled the trigger and the green laser beamed through the barrel. The sound of Pac-Man dying filled the room.

+ Close Encounters by @deedreamer for @loveofescapism : It’s like Rey's own personal porn reel is playing against the inside of her lids. Her body is reacting without her permission.

She sucks in a breath and re-crosses her legs, suddenly feeling a tingling sensation at her center. Her nipples harden and strain against the fabric of her bra and the silky material of her shell is cool against her belly, making the sensation even more extreme.

Rey feels her chest and cheeks flush, and she wonders if she looks as hot and bothered as she feels. Because that would be really embarrassing. She’s a professional, for God’s sake.

+* Don’t You Forget About Me by @rebelrebelreylo for @my-jedi-life : He wrote the letter ten years ago, but it’s still burning a hole in his pocket.

—

Dear Mr. Skywalker, we accept the fact that we had to sacrifice a whole Saturday in detention for whatever it was we did wrong. But we think you're crazy to make us write an essay telling you who we think we are.

You see us as you want to see us… In the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions.

But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain…

And an athlete…

And a basket case…

A prince…

And a criminal.

Does that answer your question?

Sincerely — The Breakfast Club.

—

A Breakfast Club AU with not-quite-neat-parallels written for MyJediLife for the Reylo Writing Den Anniversary Exchange. (Yes — Rey is more Bender than anyone else.)

+* A Year of Me and You by crossingwinter for @kylolita : “After you move in with one another, give yourself six months to like one another again,” Maz says, looking at Rey seriously through her bottlecap glasses. 

“I’m not going to fall out of love with—”

“No, no. Not love. Love’s not got anything to do with it, child. Like.”

--

Non-linear vignettes of various length, set during the first year Rey and Ben live together.

Ben’s Body by @shewhospeakswiththunder for @thelastmorozova :  AU. Rey is an up and coming sculptor specialising in human shape and form. Her new next door neighbour has a body to die for and she's determined to preserve it in marble forever. Now she just has to convince dashing and reclusive Ben to model for her. 

Preferably naked.

+* Sounds of Passion by DagaGada for @rebelrebelreylo : The Sound of Music Modern AU. The two actors meet in the theater production. He's Von Trapp and she's Maria. He's a big star who got roped into it by his mother, who owns the theater. She's fresh out of Juilliard.

Will they go past their hate at first sight? What if the heated fight turns into something different but equally heated? Will they find passion for theatre and each other together?

* Grabbing Your Attention in Detention for @shewhospeakswiththunder by @ashtyntaytertot :  Ben is a troubled teen in high school and Rey doesn't like him because of that, but he likes her. A lot.

+ Let Me Put My Darkness In You by ArdeaJestin for @terestriel :  Hux catches his boss composing love poems, attempts to wreak havoc, and wonders why smartphones don't exist.

+* At the Stroke of Midnight by @bunilicious for @midnightbluefox : He knew.

The realization struck her like a bolt of lightning, and it was only the warmth of his hand on her elbow that kept her upright. How else could she explain the determination beneath his soulful gaze?

He was iron, wrapped in the finest velvet.

“Rey,” Ben spoke at last, his voice barely above a whisper.

Yes, she wanted to scream. I am the masked woman who waltzed with you underneath the moonlight. The one who ran away when the clock struck twelve. The one who lost her shoe at the foot of the stairs.

But he had to say it first. He had to.

“Rey.” He took a deep breath, eyes fixed upon her expectant face. “I need you to help me find her.”

Her dreams were made of glass. And in that moment they had shattered.

-------

A REYLO VICTORIAN / CINDERELLA AU

+* Ravenous by @aknightofwren for @bunilicious :  38 ABY. Nearly four decades since the Battle of Yavin. The greatest of all great wars has finally come to an end. The Resistance has been disbanded, allowing those seeking comfort and security among their ranks to finally pursue the lives they had always dreamt of. But something sinister is lurking in the lush greens of the Forest Moon of Endor, something that not even the Skywalker's could have seen coming.

+ Shape of you by @looc-at-me for @deedreamer :  Ben Solo has been babysitting a group of grumpy old men who are often referred to as immortal rock legends for nearly two years and he's at his wits end. Deciding to spend the last concert of The Vaders worldwide tour on the ground floor with the other fans instead of backstage, Ben manages to meet a brown-haired beauty and they instantly connect before a family secret resurfaces.

+* Refuse Me by @kylolita for @aknightofwren : It’s the most contact she’s received in years, since her Grandpa was still alive.

This Alpha’s touch is electric, completely unfamiliar but just what she needs. Her eyes automatically find his, they are molten brown, and everything in her wants to examine those eyes forever and-

What am I doing? some sensible part of her screams at herself. Whatever he bids, another part answers.

Rey’s plan to live her life to the fullest as an Alpha falls apart when a classmate discovers her secret.

* And There You Were by @reyloandotherfandoms for @happilyeveraftereveryday : The phone rings in the middle of the night, and it's some man Rey doesn't know, demanding to speak to someone whose name she does not recognize. Why she doesn't just hang up on him is beyond her.

But she doesn't.

+* Love Potions and Legalities by @hellomelusine for @ohwise1ne :  When Kylo Ren, best Law Enforcement Warlock on Leia Organa-Solo's team, is tasked with apprehending a girl, untrained, but blatantly brewing and selling illegal love potions, he's less than enthused, the task beneath his station. What he expects and what he gets are two wildly different things when he finally breezes into Rey's shop in the desert town of Niima, Jakku.

+* Kingdom for a Kiss by @reyloner for @commandercrouton : “His name day is only moonturn away — there’s to be a great feast in his honour. And, best of all, a tourney he’ll be sure to compete in. He’s a good jouster — I have faith in his victory.” She leans in, a sly smile working alighting her elegant features. “Winning make men bold. It warms the blood, inflates their egos. It makes my Husband insufferable and my son want to celebrate.”

 “Oh.” Rey frowns. “How can you be sure he’ll win?”

“I cannot.” Leia admits. “But I can hope.”

-

Lady Rey Kenobi, the last surviving member of a once great house, is to wed the future King of Naboo. 

Only, Prince Benjamin Amidala seems determined to avoid her at all costs - even in consummating the marriage.

+* No Deliverance by @orkindofamazing for @ashtyntaytertot : Kylo Ren had seen beauty, witnessed the splendor of creation and the power of destruction, was well acquainted with desire and longing. Yet none of it compared to the strength and beauty of the tempest he was witnessing here.

The only thing he understood with any degree of certainty was the fact that he inexplicably wanted to be closer. In a trance-like state, he advanced, and his feet seemed to move across the ground of their own volition.

-

Kylo Ren wasn't very good at being a demon, but then he hadn't been a very successful angel, either. However, when he is sent to tempt and bind an immortal named Rey, it's a challenge unlike anything he's faced before.

+ Art for You Octopi My Heart by @spiegatrixlestrange for @orkindofamazing :  An art gift for an amazing person.

-

-

-

Every single one of these fics was so wonderful and we are so lucky to have such talented people in our discord server! A huge thanks to everyone who participated, we can’t wait to do the next one!

[justfandomwritings]

Magic and Misfortune (Loki)

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Request:  “I haven’t found someone that writes as well as this for the MCU for a while😂 I’ve seen AUs where gods from different cultures are in one universe and I’ve got a little scenario in my head that sounded pretty cool. Loki x reader who’s a daughter of Zeus. If you could write something like this, that would be AWESOME! Thank you!!😊💕” - Anonymous

Notes: So... I love the idea behind this fic. Not just the request, I love the Greek myth I am reinterpreting and basing it on, and anyone familiar with this particular myth will see how well it fits with Loki. BUT I think my execution here might be a touch lacking, and I’m kinda disappointed in myself and im not sure why really, so if anyone has any opinions, ideas or constructive criticism let me know. I reserve the right to turn this into a series or make this a standalone if I decide not to write part two. It works as both.

*This fic has also not been edited and that’s part of why 

There were more than Nine Realms. A point Asgard, particularly its king, often refused to acknowledge.  

The space between the Nine and the realms beyond was enough to excuse Aesir ignorance for those not amongst the royal court. When one wasn’t dealing regularly with other realms, it was easy to imagine Asgard stood alone, or at least above the rest, and it was effortless to pretend that Odin ruled all of the known worlds. 

He was Odin, after all. He was the All-Father, the Ancient One, the Great King. The stories said he was all seeing and all knowing. The Aesir thought him a man worthy of the crown atop his head. They thought themselves without equal, above all. None held this belief more than Odin.

Tales of his great conquest of the Nine Realms had died on the lips of those few old enough to know them, and many saw him only as their benevolent lord. Few knew the stories of the wars Odin waged. Not the wars against the Jotunns, those were bedtime stories of the Aesir. The subjugation of Vanaheim; the decimation of Alfheim; the destruction of Niflheim: these were stories only for the ears of those most trusted to the King and those so persuasive and cunning that no secret was beyond their reach. 

It was Loki, therefore, who was the first to make contact with Gaia. 

They were the realms closest to the Nine. Compared with the size of the universe, Gaia was practically within arm’s reach of Midgard, so close that even humanity was aware of their existence. An accessible and fortuitous target for the supposedly all-powerful King of Asgard.

But Gaia was no Midgard, and Asgard was not so without equal as they claimed to be. Gaia was the doorstep on which Odin had paused.

Gaia was an alliance of three kings, each with their own kingdom: Olympus, ruled by Zeus; Tartarus, ruled by his brother Hades; and Arcadia, ruled by the final brother Poseidon. 

They were constantly at war with each other, but nothing united the three like an external threat over which they could display their dominance. When Odin had set foot at the base of Olympus, a truly majestic realm if there ever was one, Zeus had called on his brothers, currently warring over an insignificant, miniscule ice realm known as Hyperborea. They set aside their feud and arrived before nightfall, and Odin, upon meeting the three, had left by morning. 

As a child, upon first coming to the realization of his father’s war-riddled past, Loki had asked his father why he never told them stories of how he united the Nine Realms. Odin had told Loki that he thought violence nothing worthy of praise and that his millennia of peace with Jotunheim was far more worthy of tales than any battle. 

As a man, upon hearing the stories and seeing his father for who he truly was, Loki thought the story of being humbled at Gaia was likely the true reason Odin did not speak of conquering the Nine Realms. 

Loki knew the tale by heart, and he wanted to see the place of its birth. He wanted to see the place Odin could not claim, the place Odin accepted defeat, or at least retreat.

“Father,” Loki’s silver tongue went to work. “Perhaps, we might speak of Gaia.” He had been careful to catch the All-Father alone. It would prove easier to sway him this way, and he would not be shut down by the presence of those who were less aware than himself.

“What of it, son? They do not bother us, and we do not bother with them.” Odin dismissed offhand as he sat with his younger son in the library. 

“I would like to see the place, Father.” Loki confessed. “In part, I confess, for my own curiosity. I will never sit on the throne of the Nine Realms, and for that, I’d like to see what lies beyond the throne’s purview. Though, I suppose the greater part is in the usefulness of spying Asgard’s greatest threat.”

“Threat?” Odin eyed Loki over the top of the text he was reading. “How are they a threat?”

“There is no doubt, Father,” Loki rushed to sooth, “that you and Thor and the armies of Asgard could handle an onslaught from three oafs like the ones ruling Gaia, but even a battle against three so unskilled would still cause Asgard loses given their sheer size. Does it not worry you that one day, after you are gone, they will grow discontent to fight amongst themselves? Or worse, see us as weak without your omnipotent guidance?”

“It may be worthy of thought, but your brother has trained for such a thing. Defending the Realm Eternal is his birthright, and he will do it well.” 

“I suppose, but the lives lost…” Loki sighed and looked away contemplatively. “Though, I suppose you are correct in that. The only way to prevent such a battle entirely would be to claim the three as Asgard’s newest realms, and who’s to say such a thing is possible? We know nothing of them since your return from their shores.”

Loki watched his father from the corner of his eye. All of Asgard knew of his ‘silvertongue’, as they called it. Yet, somehow, they all allowed themselves to be goaded into his thinking. Perhaps, because he managed to convince them all that it was their thinking he was commenting on and not his own. How many times had he convinced Thor to do something so thoroughly that the God of Thunder actually thought he himself had come up with such an intelligent idea.

Odin conceded the point rather hesitantly, “We know nothing of their realms or their state. It is beyond the sight of the throne and of Heimdall.”

“Such a shame,” Loki mused. “After a millennia fighting themselves, they could be a hardened force beyond compare… or entirely obliterated and ripe for the taking… I suppose we will never know.”

If Loki could make Odin see Gaia as a place teetering between threat and opportunity, a place that could make or destroy his legacy, then surely Odin would take the bait. And if he could make that opportunity seem ripe for the taking, an opportunity to finally claim his title Lord of the Spear once more, Odin would be far too greedy to let the opportunity pass to Thor. 

Loki let the thoughts stew in his father’s head for several weeks before he dropped another line about Gaia, then weeks later made another about the conquest, and months past that another about Thor’s coming reign.

It took two years before, finally, his father had slowly, subconsciously, been worked into a desperate need to, at the bare minimum, know what Gaia was doing. And there was only one man, one spy, with a tongue that could charm any ear and magic that could open any door, whom Odin would trust with the task.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Bifrost was built to traverse the Nine Realms. It was possible to further its reach, but such a thing would require time and attention that Loki and Odin did not wish to draw on their endeavours. 

Loki, instead, was to walk the paths the All-Father once took to reach Gaia millennia ago. 

He took a ship, piloted and manned by him and him alone, and he went out past the Rainbow Bridge, past the Bifrost itself. On the orders of the King, Heimdall’s sure hands sent Loki to Gaia’s closest realm, Midgard. 

Midgard encompassed a solar system that encircled a star called the Sun. Only one of the planets was inhabited, a planet called Earth teaming with inferior beings who thought themselves alone in the universe. However, Loki didn’t need the help of the humans who bent the knee and called him God. Heimdall, instead, dropped his ship at the edge of the solar system, just past a planet the humans called Pluto.

From there, Loki navigated fields of asteroids and stretches of empty space, honing in on coordinates that were a thousand years out-of-date, so that he might have some starting point for his search.

It took him a matter of weeks before, looming on the horizon, Loki finally saw it. 

He docked his ship amongst others porting on an exterior wooden scaffold and approached the towering walls of Olympus. 

Magnificent marble gates, carved from a single piece of stone, loomed twentyfold over Loki’s head. Their height was such that he was sure they would conceal the entire Palace of Asgard from view if they wished. 

Chiseled into their face, by the hand of a true master, were images he could only assume were from their realm’s history. The scenes wound their way in a serpentine motion down the stone with an intricacy the likes of which Loki had never seen. The dwarves would pale if they saw such flawless craftsmanship achieved by any hand but their own. 

Much of the history presented to him was beyond his understanding, but Loki recognized the still that greeted him at eye level instantly. It was a famous tale on Midgard, one clearly founded in a kernel of truth. 

It depicted three brothers standing side by side in triumph. Each held their weapon of choice, spears with an increasing number of points progressing down the line to the final brother’s trident. The marble wasn’t inlaid with anything, yet through the natural skill of its carvers the colors of the stone seemed to convey the varying material of each blade. 

The men stood atop a form the size of a mountain but was clearly a body, decapitated, the head balanced under the right foot of the one holding the single-tipped spear. The dying face turned so it’s unseeing eyes looked down on any who approached the gate. 

Crowds, carved in a far smaller height, pushed in around the massive headless beast and cheered on their new leaders who were flanked, in the background of the depiction by a stoic group of beautiful companions. 

It was the Midgardian Kronos myth incarnate. Loki would know it anywhere. 

He wondered, mostly to himself, if the sons really had killed their father, if they had simply taken credit for his death, or if they had merely indulged in some lighthearted propaganda. None seemed implausible. 

“Who are you to approach the Gates of Zeus?” boomed a voice high atop the walls. 

Loki bowed to one knee and called out, “I am Loki Odinson, Prince of Asgard, and I would be humbled to make acquaintance with your city.”

There was a loud scraping, and rather than parting as most gates would, the stone slab lifted from the ground only just high enough for Loki to pass under it. 

“Welcome to Olympus.” 

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“Welcome to Olympus, Prince Loki.”

It was the fourth time he had been greeted in such a way.

The first had been the gatekeeper who allowed Loki entrance. He came down from the tower at the peak of the walls via the largest ladder Loki had ever seen, a set of rails and steps carved directly into the backside of the rock leading up to their guard tower. 

The second had been the kindly older man who came to escort the prince through the pristine cobblestone streets to the palace. 

The third had been the palace guard who asked the older man to wait with Loki a moment while he saw if any member of the royal court was expecting or wished to speak with him. Loki quickly informed the soldier that this voyage was one taken merely for pleasure, and that his arrival would be expected by none. The guard came back approximately ten minutes later bringing a beautiful young woman in tow. 

She was the fourth to greet Loki, the first to do so using his title. 

Her clothing was something more appropriate for a lowly servant girl than a member of court. The dress was a dull grey made of a scratchy, shapeless material that did nothing for her body or her coloring. If not for the way she carried herself, Loki would have believed hers the facade of a lowly maid. 

As it was, shoulders high, chin up, back straight, she carried herself with the pride and respect known only to true nobility. It crossed his mind that there may be nothing to her outfit, that it may just be the style of the place; but he recalled many properly dressed ladies as he made his way to her doorstep. She certainly wasn’t lying or putting on a show for him; he would sense that. She truly did dress this way. Her garb served some different purpose, and the idea he would deduce it later was intriguing to him.

“Thank you, my lady,” Loki bowed to her as he would any peer on Asgard, airing on the side of respectful caution. “It is an honor to be welcomed in your beautiful realm.” 

The woman smiled politely and offered Loki her arm. “I am afraid that if you came to see King Zeus you will be disappointed. It is a day of council, and our King and Queen are away with their advisors and will not return until tomorrow. The palace has been left in lesser hands.”

“That is quite fine by me. I did not come for any significant purpose.” Loki looped her arm through his and allowed her to guide him into the hall. 

The palace was, like the gate, made of marble. Much of the streets and buildings he had passed walking in were similarly carved from blocks of a variety of beautiful stones, but it seemed that marble had been reserved for the rich and royal. 

“What, may I ask, brings you here if it is nothing of importance?” The woman guided him smoothly through marble hall after marble hall, winding him deeper into the depths of her domain. 

“Nothing more or less than my own curiosity,” Loki confessed. “Your people and mine have been without contact for so many centuries that there are some who believe your existence to be nothing more than myth.”

“And are you one of those?”

“Well, I am here,” Loki pointed out.

The woman nodded thoughtfully. “This is true, but you could have notions of what we were that remain to be disproven.”

“If they’ve yet to be disproven then how could I say they were myth?” Loki countered. 

A genuine smile pulled at the woman’s lips, and Loki couldn’t help but return the gesture. It was rare that he was able to have intelligent conversations with anyone beyond his mother. He knew, for certain, that Asgard was teaming with wise and intelligent men and women ripe with knowledge, but Asgard never glorified such things. Those who did have a mind usually kept it hidden.

The woman changed the subject with ease as she pulled Loki to a stop. 

“The main receiving room is here,” The door was nothing more than a beautiful, thick purple fabric, pinned or floating by some means Loki could not discern, between two columns forming the entryway. 

“Thank you, my lady.” Loki stepped to the doorway, pausing to turn back. “Might I ask your name?”

“My name is (Y/n),” 

(Y/n). Loki thought on the name as he passed through the purple curtain. 

(Y/n) was certainly not a common name in Asgard. Nor, oddly, was it a name Loki had heard in his studies. Prior to arriving on Olympus, he had been sure to read the old Midgardian lore of its people. Like the myths of the Norse, he was sure there were inaccuracies. But the stories had to come from somewhere, and Loki knew better than most that there was always some truth to be discerned even from the tallest tale. Still, there was nothing of (Y/n).

“Prince Loki!”

Mere moments later, through the curtain Loki had just passed came the most vile woman upon whom Loki had ever laid his eyes. 

It wasn’t that she was ugly; though Loki had to confess she was not at all something he would consider attractive. More, it was her presence.

The moment she walked in the door Loki found everything off-putting. The room was less grand. The floors less polished. The air less clean. 

There was a toxicity to this woman that even Loki, prided for creating chaos and mischief wherever he went, found disconcerting. 

“My lady,” Loki didn’t bow, instead greeting the newcomer head on. Something seemed wrong about showing this woman a spot so vulnerable as his neck.

The woman waved a hand, garishly bedecked in golden jewels that only made her fingers look all the more spindly and haggered. “I am Princess Eris. It is my understanding you would have no cause to know that, so I will let the informality pass.” 

“Forgive me,” Loki conceded a nod of his head but nothing more, “Princess.”

“Think nothing of it!” With what Loki could only describe as a jump, the woman flung herself on the nearest of three settees that filled much of the space in the room. “You’ll forgive me, in turn, for sending the bastard to the door to greet you. I was not expecting any royal visits in the absence of my father. I needed the time to prepare myself but did not wish to keep you waiting.”

“The girl then, (Y/n). I had not heard her name before.”

“One of my father’s many bastards,” Eris gestured to the seat opposite her. “Please join me. I apologize. Of course, she did not inform you to make yourself comfortable. She fails at a great many things.”

“The occasional mistake cannot be helped,” Loki took the seat with a well-practiced grace and perched himself on the edge. “I must say, I have heard of you, Princess Eris, in the time I spent studying the stories on Midgard. I would have thought, with your family’s notoriety I would have heard of (Y/n).”

Eris rolled her eyes, “Midgard,” and scoffed. “Yes, well you wouldn’t have heard her name there. They got a great many things wrong in their tales, those humans. (Y/n) walked among them more than all of us. She often stooped to their level, and they were quite taken with her for it. Harmonia, that was what they called her, a far prettier name than she deserved. They thought it suited her, but alas they were wrong.”

And suddenly it all made sense to Loki.

Two sisters, dueling for all eternity, constantly trying to best each other in their own way. Eris, the selfish sister loved most by her family and their father, the entitled eldest who thrived on conflict and discord, who started the Trojan War. 

He knew why Eris disconcerted him so, and now as he saw the ignorance in her eye and heard the condescension in her voice he could see and hear nothing but his brother Thor.

“Princess, might it be too much of me to ask your leave? It has been a long and lonely journey from Asgard, and it might benefit my skill of conversation if I first rested.”

“Of course!” Eris pushed to her feet and motioned back to the curtain from whence they came. “(Y/n) will be waiting in the hall. She can take you to a room.”

“You’re most kind.” And without another word, he fled.

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“Perhaps it is not my place,” (Y/n) began quietly as she walked by Loki’s side. “You do not look weary from your journey at all.”

Loki chuckled. He had a feeling he could trust this sister, if not for his own reasons than at least in his understanding of her relationship with Eris. “Well, perhaps I am not weary from the journey, but simply weary of the company.”

(Y/n) smiled, a knowing smile. “I imagine you would not be the first to tire swiftly in Eris’s presence.”

“Your sister is certainly an acquired taste.”

“She would not like to hear you say such things.” (Y/n) hedged quickly.

Loki’s eyebrow hitched up slightly. “Would she not? Surely she must at least be somewhat aware of her effects.” 

“No, I’m sure she is. I was referring to the word sister.” (Y/n) jerked at the edge of her rough-worn dress. “Queen Hera was not my mother. Unlike most of the bastards born of my father, my mother was also nobility. I could not be so easily forgotten as the others, but I am by no means loved.”

 “And how do you feel for this? Your sister, for she is whether she denies it or not, made her views very clear.”

Something dark, dangerous, flashed behind (Y/n)’s eyes. It was gone so fast that if Loki were not Loki he would not have seen her rage. “It is not my place to say. I am fortunate the Great Goddess shows me such mercies as allowing my presence here.” The voice that came from her was smooth, automatic. 

The thought flashed through Loki’s mind one last time before he made an irreversible decision. ‘Her sister is just another Thor, another Thor not protected by Odin.’ 

Loki offered (Y/n) his arm as they rounded a corner and put a wall between themselves and Eris. “Now, now, (Y/n),” his tone, for the first time since his arrival, dropped its formality and reverence, taking on its usual teasing lilt. “You cannot lie to the God of Lies, nor do you need to.”

(Y/n) hesitantly accepted his arm but remained silent for him to continue.

“Tell me what ails you, and perhaps my knack for magic and misfortune can find a worthy hand to wield it.”

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Taglist:

Forever Taglist:

@maybe-a-fangurl / @libbymouse / @petra-arkanian-1497

Marvel Taglist:

@the-high-queen / @iamverity / @darktownairspeed / @radicalstars

Loki Taglist:

@adefectivedetective / @iamverity / @kybaeza

Other people have asked to be on the taglist that I’ve forgotten. If you are one of those, please do me the favor of dropping an ask in my box with which list you’re supposed to or would like to be on. 

[aneekapaneeka]

SOULMATE AU ‘SUBCATEGORIES’ LIST

So I and @queen-of-elves​ had an idea to write down a big list of AU’s. I chose to write down the subcategories for the very popular soulmate au. I hope that you’ll like our lists, we’ve spent quite some time on them. 

I don’t really have a system, I just wrote down the ones I had on my mind or found them on the internet, in the alphabetical order, with a short description of what they’re about. And, the moodboard was made by me! It’s my first one.

After Death Memories You get your soulmate’s favourite memories after they pass away as a parting gift.

Age Once you turn 18/21, you stop ageing until you meet your destined half. 

a/n: I like that the point of it is that you get to spend your entire adulthood with your soulmate and the cool fact, that you can be basically immortal if you don’t find them. It’s a neat concept, sadly, none of the fics I’ve read with this theme (there were like two) didn’t get me like some other themes.

Age + Personality The age difference between the soulmates determines their maturity level. If you’re older than your soulmate, you get a piece of their childishness and they get a piece of your maturity. ** a/n: It definitely was a bummer to try to write it down so it’s easier to understand. I like the complexity. It’s something different and definitely interesting. 

Black and White You see only in black and white until you meet your soulmate. You gain colours at once when you meet your soulmate. ** a/n: It’s nothing new - this prompt is often used but I like it. I like to imagine the wonder soulmates must feel once they get to finally see in colour. If you want a more complex one, check out Colour Gaining.

Body Switch

From time to time, you switch your body with your soulmate but every time you try to get a glimpse of their face, it all gets blurry. ** a/n: It’s a Boy Girl Thing Anyone???

Book Character

It says, that the reason why we feel so attached to some book characters is that they were supposed to be our soulmates but they are in a different parallel universe.

Bruises You have bruises in the same place as your soulmate but they don’t hurt. They are just visible on your skin.

Colour Gaining After meeting your soulmate, you slowly start gaining colours with each emotion you explore with your soulmate. 

Colour + Handprints on Places Your SM Touches  You have colour on the place your soulmate touches you for the first time. ** a/n: Imagine having a footprint on your butt.

Compass You have a compass on your skin (or you can get one once you get born) which shows which way and how far from you is your soulmate.

Conscience Your conscience is your soulmate and you can hear their voice constantly in their head.

Dreams

You can see your soulmate in your dreams and communicate with them but you can’t see their face or ask them for their name.

Emotion Sharing You share emotions with your soulmate. When they’re sad, you can feel their sadness and so on.

Enemy & Soulmate You have names on both of your wrists. One is the name of your enemy, the second one is the name of your soulmate. 

First Impression You have your soulmate’s first impression of you written on your wrist.

First Words The first words your soulmate tells you are written somewhere on your body,

Flowers Everyone has a flower bud in the centre of their palm - it blooms once you meet your soulmate

Footprints You can see your soulmate’s footprints as a clue to where they are.

Hair colour changing Your hair colour changes when your soulmate dyes it.

Hair colour stripe You have a stripe on your wrist it is the same colour as your soulmate’s hair. It changes if they dye their hair.

Half of a Quote  You have half of a quote written on your wrist. Your soulmate has the second part.

Hanahaki Hanahaki disease is a sickness caused by one-sided love. The one in love coughs up flower petals. It stops once the one who is sick gets over them or if the other one falls in love with them. 

Heartbeat Your heart skips a beat when you make eye contact with your soulmate.

Heterochromia You have heterochromia. One eye colour is your soulmate’s, the other one is yours. Your eye colour turns to normal once you meet your soulmate.

Hints Every year on your birthday, you get one hint of who your soulmate is.

Injuries + Flowers If your soulmate hurts themselves, flowers will bloom on your body in the same place they got hurt.

Invisible Your soulmate is invisible to you. You can see them once you reach 18.

Last Words You have your soulmate’s last words to you written on your skin.

Masks Ever since you’re born, you’re wearing a mask. Your soulmate has an identical one and you can take it down once you meet them.

Matching Jewellery Everyone gets a matching piece of jewellery when they’re born. Your soulmate has the same one as you.

Matching Tattoos You have a matching tattoo somewhere on your body. Your soulmate has the same one in the same place.

Names on the wrist Your soulmate’s name is written on your wrist.

Other Half Greek mythology says, that humans were once born in pairs of two, similar to conjoined twins. Everyone had 4 eyes, 4 legs, 4 hands and 2 noses. They were separated by the gods in fear of their power and must wander the earth until they find their other half. ** a/n: I’m a sucker for this one!

Pain You can feel the pain of your soulmate but you don't have bruises or any other evidence of being hurt.

Red String of Fate The gods tied an invisible red thread around the finger of those that are destined to meet each other in a certain situation as they are their soulmate.

Same Handwriting You share the same handwriting with your soulmate. ** a/n: My handwriting changes all the time lmao

Searching or Death If you don’t find your soulmate by your #th birthday, you die.

Shades You see the world in the shades of your soulmate’s feelings - red could stand for anger, blue for sadness..

Singing You can hear the songs your soulmate sings You start to sing every time your soulmate does.

Sleeping and Waking Up You sleep and wake up at the same time as your soulmate. ** a/n: imagine having a soulmate in a different time zone (for example, you’re from Poland and they’re from Venezuela - that means that there is a 6 hour time difference)

Sparks Sparks erupt from you once your soulmate touches you.

Super Powers -Soulmates share the same superpowers -You have a superpower but once you meet your soulmate, it fades away. -You have a weak superpower but it amps up once you meet your soulmate.

Thoughts You can hear your soulmate’s thoughts only when they’re related to you.

Timelines Everyone has a soulmate but they aren’t always in the same timeline as each other. That means, that someone living in 1889 could have a soulmate in 2005. Your soulmate can either be a ghost or be reincarnated or they would meet up in the afterlife.

Timer - Death You have a timer on your wrist which shows when is your soulmate going to die.

Timer - Meeting The timer on your wrist shows you when you’re going to meet your soulmate.

Timezone A watch on your wrist shows you in which timezone lives your soulmate.

Under a Curse You’re under a curse until you find your soulmate.

Writing on Skin If you write on your skin, your soulmate can see it too and respond to you.

[writerrain]

You Must Forge Your Own Path -Chapter 1

You can find this fic on AO3

Summary:

When the Golden Fleece is stolen from Camp Half-blood, Chiron sends his best team to retrieve it. The days go by fast, and the Greek demigods ask the Romans for help.

Will Barry Allen, young scout from New Rome, be able to help his new friends? Or will he be too distracted by someone with pretty blue eyes?

Characters: Barry Allen, Leonard Snart, Charlie, Sara Lance, Zari Tomaz, Mick Rory, Ray Palmer, Nate Heywood, Jax Jackson, Martin Stein

Tags: Percy Jackson au

Many thanks to @areyouscarletcold for all her help.

Chapter 1 - Barry

Barry loved the feeling of running through the woods. He had always loved it, since before joining the Legion, since before his mum had died and his father disappeared from New Rome. Before vanishing, his is father always said that Barry's love for running was due to the fact that he was a legacy of Mercury, but the kid liked to think that it was something his , not something that had been determined by a godly relative (in this case, his maternal grandfather).

Barry had been a scout of the Legion for years now, but running surrounded by trees never got old. Barry loved the smell of the woods, the feeling of the sun and then the cool shade flashing on his skin as he dashed from patches of light to the shadows. He felt thrilled, he never knew what he was going to see (even if mostly it was simply trees and the occasional animal, rarely a laughing Dryad). With the wind blowing into his hair he felt free. He felt like he was on an adventure.

Little did he know what an adventure that would be.

Barry was a good scout, which was why the Legion had decided to send him to help Camp Half-Blood to retrieve the Golden Fleece. The camp of Greek demigods had been protected from monsters by the Fleece, but it had disappeared a couple of weeks before. They had sent one of their best teams to look for it, but it was yet to be located and brought back. After discussing the situation with Mr. D extensively, Chiron had asked the Romans for help, and that was where Barry came into the game. Well, not only Barry, more like Barry and his team, but in that moment Barry felt alone.

It wasn't, however, a bad feeling, because it actually felt like he was at peace with the world. Barry loved nature, it calmed him, which was why when he was a child, when he felt particularly sad, he had often run away from Joe's house in the city to run in the woods just outside New Rome. It had been reckless, but it had been worth it: thanks to this “training”, Barry had become the great scout he was, and at such a young age, since he was almost eighteen.

All of a sudden, Barry became aware of something wrong in front of him, something unusual, and unusual was never a good thing for a demigod. There was something strange with the shadows. They were swirling, contorting, darkening. Barry was running too fast to stop, though. That was one of his many defects: he was always too fast for his own good.

Barry run straight into the shadows. And, to his surprise, he hit something solid.

The collision made him stumble and fall on his ass, yelping an “Ow!” so unmanly his egregious grandfather would scold him for it. Not that he had ever seen Mercury (or was he planning to), but Roman gods were usually pretty keen on wanting their offsprings to be as strong and brave as possible. The entire education kids received in New Rome was based on this concept: everyone had to be capable of handling emotions, any of them, even fear and surprise.

Yet, Barry's yell concealed neither.

“Is this the best they could send from New Rome?” a velvety voice asked, and Barry looked up to see...

… To see the most beautiful pair of blue eyes he had ever seen. Scratch that, those eyes were even prettier than Iris's, and she had the warmest eyes in the entire city, and Barry loved them so much...

Anyway, these eyes were different, colder, calculating, yet Barry knew that he could lose himself in them. He was also aware of the fact that he was gaping.

The eyes belonged to a young man who was towering over Barry, but the runner was almost sure that if he had been standing up their heights wouldn't be much different. The man was wearing a black shirt, mimetic cargo pants, and combat boots. He looked like a mortal soldier thanks to the outfit and a buzzcut, but the long-sword on his back betrayed him for a demigod.

Barry stared for a bit at the hilt of the sword. It was black, as dark as night, with a sapphire at the bottom; for the life of him, Barry couldn't tell which material it was made of. In New Rome they mainly used Imperial Gold, and he was pretty sure that the Greek used Celestial Bronze, yet that sword was clearly no bronze at all. Not recognizing the sword made him feel a tad uneasy.

Also, Barry realized that while he had been staring at the man and his sword, some time had passed (yes, Barry was quick on his feet and he was pretty fast in maths and chemistry, but his social skills were as slow as a sloth's).

“Speak for yourself! Did the Greek send a stalker to look for the Fleece?”

(A socially awkward sloth).

The guy raised an eyebrow. “What makes you think I'm one of the Greeks?”

“What makes you think I'm one of the Romans?” Barry remarked.

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe the t-shirt with SPQR written on that you are wearing, Scarlet.” The man pointed at Barry's red tee, and he felt himself blushing a bit. The guy had a good point.

“And you have a sword?” Barry didn't sound very convincing.

The guy rolled his eyes. “You won't go far if you trust every creepy guy with a sword that you meet in the woods.” The guy sounded like a snarky asshole, but at least he was kind enough to extend his hand to help Barry get up from the grass.

“I'm Barry,” the grandchild of Mercury said, once he was standing on his two feet, shaking the hand that the man had given him.

The guy rolled his eyes again. “You do trust the first creepy guy with a sword that you meet in the woods, huh?”

Barry chuckled. “You're not the first creepy guy with a sword that I met in the woods.”

The guy smirked, but Barry interpreted it as a smile.

“I'm Len.”

Barry smiled back, and he was sure he was smiling dumbly because gods, those eyes are beautiful , but a rustle coming from the trees behind Len made him grip tightly the dagger he had tied to his belt, ready for a fight.

From the woods came out a beautiful young woman with dark skin and an attire Barry thought would be more suitable for a punk concert than a stroll into the woods. Gods, are all the Greeks so damn hot? Barry asked himself, as the woman approached. Barry couldn't really say how old she could have been. She looked his age, but something in her eyes betrayed that she could be older. She looked wise beyond her years, yet there was some mischief in her twinkling dark eyes and in her little smirk. She looked dangerous, and Barry felt slightly intimidated by her.

“You know you shouldn't use shadow-travel too much,” she scolded Len, sounding concerned, but then the woman moved her gaze to Barry, analysing him. She had a strong British accent, which Barry found weird to say the least, but he had seen some pretty unusual stuff in his life, an unexpected British accent in a forest in Florida wasn’t something surprising anymore.

Len rolled his eyes. “I was just greeting our new friend Barry here.” He pointed to Barry, who awkwardly smiled at the pretty lady.

“Barry, this is Charlie, but don't gape too much because she is taken,” Len jocked, and Barry felt himself blush again. Had he really been staring at the Greeks that much? “Charlie, this is Barry the Roman.”

Barry shot a look at Len, who smirked again.

“Oh, I bet getting to know you is gonna be a pleasure.” Charlie winked, and Len shook his head. Barry couldn't do much but blush.

“Where are the others?” Charlie continued. “We heard you approaching so our captain sent us to look for you. I'm pretty sure the Romans didn't send only one guy, did they?”

“My friends will be here shortly.” Barry looked at his watch. “Ten minutes tops.”

Charlie nodded. “Let's wait them at our camp then, it's close.”

Barry followed Len and Charlie into the woods. The three demigods walked silently to their destination, even if Charlie and Len seemed to be having a wordless conversation of their own. After a few feet, Barry heard what could only be sounds from the camp... which was a lot louder than he thought it would be.

It was a camp in the woods! It wasn't safe to be that loud! Hello? There were monsters around! What were the Greeks thinking?

In the middle of the camp there was a plastic table, and a broad guy and a tiny blond girl were sitting there, ready to arm wrestle, Barry noticed, while four other loud demigods were already cheering and making bets. An older guy with glasses was sitting in the back on a camping chair, looking half amused and half annoyed by the unprofessionalism of his team.

“What the –” was all Barry could say, before Charlie sprinted towards the couple. As soon as they saw her getting closer, the people cheering welcomed her, asking if she was going to place a bet too.

“What are you doing, Sara?” Len asked, after a sigh. He sounded like a concerned big brother to Barry.

The blond girl rolled her eyes, and then she gestured to the broad guy to take her hand. Immediately, the cheering grew in volume. Someone whistled.

“Mick was being annoying again,” the blond girl, Sara, replied, smiling innocently at Len.

“Can't you behave for two minutes while I'm gone, Mick?” Len sounded more amused than concerned while talking to the guy. After a second look, Barry decided that Mick was one scary dude, and that Sara girl had to be out of her mind to think about arm-wrestling with him.

Mick snorted. “If Blondie here wants her hand broken for the rest of the quest, it's not my fault.”

“What did you do to anger Sara?” Charlie looked like she was having the time of her life.

“Just commented that it must suck to be so short,” Mick answered, and then he returned his attention to Sara. “Ready?”

“Are you kidding me?” Charlie huffed. “I’ve been trying to get under Sara's skin with creative insults, like calling her 'stuck up', for ages, and it's calling her short that makes her snap?”

“Shut up, Charlie,” Sara replied, in a monotone voice, as if she had been saying the exact three words for two weeks.

“See!”

“Poor Charlie.” A cute girl with an ink-black ponytail and a flashy necklace winked at her, blowing a kiss in her direction.

“Thanks babe.”

Apparently, the cute girl with dark hair was the first – and only- one to notice Barry, and she waved at him. “You found a Roman in the woods?”

“Yep,” Charlie popped the p, finally getting close enough to what Barry realized was her girlfriend, by the way she hugged her.

“Hi, I'm –” Barry started to say, but before he could finish the sentence Sara ordered a “Say hi to the new guy.”

There was a not so heartfelt chorus of “Hello!”, then everyone returned their attention to Mick and Sara.

“On my mark,” Charlie’s girlfriend said, grinning at Sara and Mick.

“Ready. Set... Go!”

As the arm-wrestling match started, Barry smiled to himself. This group looked extremely disorganized, they were loud and a bit rude, and evidently they needed all the help possible to complete the mission, but they were a fun bunch, or at least that was his first impression. Barry thought about Oliver, his praetor, and how horrified he would be by the entire scene, but Barry just wanted to laugh alongside the others, despite not knowing them well.

As it turned out, the match was pretty short, with Sara almost dislocating Mick's wrist. Len rolled his eyes, whispering something Barry didn't understand because of all the voices around them.

Once the cheering was over, Sara went to Barry, extending her hand.

Barry shook it, smiling. “Barry Allen, from the Fifth Cohort.”

“Sara Lance, captain of the Legends.” She gestured around her to her teammates, smiling proud.

“Legends? Do people call you that or... is it something you guys say? Because that would be very lame.”

Sara and the others laughed at his words, but when she looked back at him, Barry saw something sad behind her eyes.

“Let's say that's what a lost friend used to call us.”

“Oh, I'm sorry.” Barry felt like an idiot for having asked. Life as a demigod was not easy, and he knew that especially the Greeks' life expectancy was pretty low.

In the meantime, the youngest of the group, no older than fifteen, had gotten closer to them. “He called us that because our adventures are usually legendary. Because nothing ever goes as it should.” The boy grinned, earning himself a playful punch on the shoulder from Sara.

“This little runt is Jax.” She smiled at him, and Barry noticed how close they were, kind of like siblings. “You already met Charlie and Len.” Sara pointed at the two other demigods, who had both moved to mix with the rest of the group.

Sara pointed at the two guys Len was standing next to. “Those are Mick the sore loser and his boyfriend Ray.”

Mick grumbled something, but Ray greeted Barry with a cheerful “Welcome!”, then he promptly returned to fuss over his boyfriend's wrist.

“The one standing next to Charlie is her girlfriend Zari, while our personal grumpy old man back there is Jax's brother, Martin.”

Zari waved, still hugging Charlie, who had a happy smirk on her lips, while Martin, who was clearly the oldest of the demigods, probably close to his thirties, went to shake Barry's hand.

“It's a pleasure to meet you, Barry.”

“While Nate is – where the hell is Nate?” Sara turned to Jax for an explanation.

“He's looking for a bit of ambrosia, he's afraid you broke Mick's wrist.”

Both Sara and Mick rolled their eyes at the same time, and that made Barry grin.

“I bet this is fairly different from what you're used to.” Len – when had he snuck up next to Barry? – had a eyebrow raised in question.

“Len, stop using shadow-travel to sneak up on people!” Sara scolded him, but then the girl saw Nate reappearing from the trees where he had put his supplies and she moved towards him to scold him too. Barry guessed she had to be the mother of the group more than the captain.

“Shadow-travel?”

Len shrugged at the question. “One of the many perks of having the Lord of the Dead as a father, I guess.”

That didn't answer Barry's question, since he still had no idea what shadow-travel was, but he nodded anyway.

“This looks like a nice team,” Barry commented, looking at the demigods in front of him, all chatting enthusiastically as if they weren’t in the middle of the woods, while on an important mission.

“It's a bit chaotic sometimes, but they're all a good bunch. Funnier than the Romans, I bet.” Len smirked, looking at Barry as if asking to prove him wrong.

“Speaking of which... my team should be here by now. I am a fast runner, but they should have arrived. They are on a chariot with horses.”

A dark feeling crept in Barry's chest. Where was his team? What was taking Cisco, Caitlin, Iris, and Wells so long? Had they been attacked by a monster? Barry had seen none while running, but now he wasn't sure anymore. Maybe he should have run slower, to keep more attention at his surroundings. It was his job, wasn't it?

“Hey kid, I'm sure nothing bad happened to them.” Len put his hand on Barry's shoulder, grounding him. Without even realizing it, he had almost let himself drift into panic, and the warm hand on his shoulder helped him ground himself and his thoughts.

“You sure?” Barry's voice was barely a whisper, but Len heard him anyway, and nodded in answer.

Sara had witnessed the exchange despite being pretty far from them, and acted accordingly.

“Don't worry, Barry. They're probably having some trouble finding us. Charlie, do you mind looking for them while we wait here?”

Charlie snorted in annoyance, but she detached herself from Zari's embrace, gave a mock salute and then she transformed into a jaguar, and then she sprinted back into the forest.

“Oh my gods!” Barry squawked, making Len chuckle.

“Charlie is a descendant of Periclymenus, which means she can turn into any animal she wants,” Len explained, and when he started to talk Barry realized he was still gaping, so he closed his mouth. Also, Len still had his hand on Barry's shoulder, and Barry started to blush because of how close they still were. Gods, those eyes were really gorgeous.

“That's pretty cool.” Barry had no idea if she was talking about Charlie's shapeshifting or Len's eyes, if he was honest with himself.

“Yeah, it is, but don't tell her I said it. Her ego is already big enough as it is.”

Barry felt scrutinized by Len's blue eyes. It was like the other demigod was looking directly into his soul. Which, for all he knew could be exactly what was going on. Hades dealt with souls, right? So maybe his children could actually see souls. Barry had to ask at some point.

“Would it make you calmer if I went looking for your team too?” Len asked after a long pause.

Barry wanted to make a joke, because Len had sounded extremely entitled, but he was too worried about his friends, so he welcomed the proposal.

“If it's not a problem... that would really help, thanks.”

Len turned to Sara, waiting for her order. The blond girl just nodded, even if she didn't look too happy about Len's idea, and before Barry could understand what was going on, Len moved his hand from Barry's shoulder and his figure blended with the shadow of the trees, and the guy disappeared.

[tiny-maus-boots]

Soulmates AU pt 1

Summary:  Inspired by Soulmates au and soulmates au pt 2 hc by @fandom-heaux . An AU in which everyone is born with a smudged birthmark. As you find your mate in life the smudge forms their name when you’ve made an impression on them. In this world Beca doesn’t realize she has any, let alone three.

Author’s Note: I’m gonna try this thing where I post once a week. I say try because…well. Tis I. Queen of zero follow through. I blame @chloes-yellow-cup for dragging me into this fandom and then making fics that have ruined me. RUINED ME. Let me clarify. RUINED ME.

 Beca

“Shut up.”

“I’m serious.”

“You are not. Everyone has one. This dude I dated, Boochie, got dragged behind his ATV at Glamis and got a wicked road rash. Like peeled the whole fucking side of his body including his mark. The shit came back, darker. My hand to God.” Stacie put her hand over her heart and raised the other as if she were giving oath. As if this would somehow make her story all the more believable.

“First of all who the fuck is named ‘Boochie’?” At Stacie’s smirking shrug she moved on. “Secondly. Ew dude.” Stacie laughed at the face Beca made but waited for her to say something more. Waiting for her to say ‘Just Kidding!’ or something equally confirming that she was joking in some way.

Beca shrugged and took a sip of her beer. These were the conversations she hated. It wasn’t that she was ashamed exactly. It wasn’t anything that she could control so why should she be ashamed? Beca just hated dealing with having to explain it to people. Explain that she didn’t have that thing that made a person complete. Whole. Normal or whatever. The responses were all the same and they happened in stages. First there was disbelief.

“I mean. I don’t really have a reason to lie so…” Stacie gave her a leveling stare as if she were trying to see if Beca was being completely truthful. She was sure there were people out there that didn’t want a soulmate, didn’t want to find the one person in the whole world that would always be there, would never leave, and would always just…get them. But she didn’t happen to know any and she didn’t think Stacie did either. Whatever the taller woman was looking for in Beca’s face she didn’t find because she gave a soft ‘huh’.

Beca didn’t trust it. Stage two was curiosity. There was no way, NO WAY, that Stacie wouldn’t ask questions. After moving to Los Angeles Beca had found herself cut adrift in a sea of unknown variables. She didn’t know the area, or the people, or even any of her neighbors. She moved into a three story building that was perfect for her. It was dark and brooding and no one gave a shit about anyone else. They just kept to themselves for the most part. Except Stacie.

Stacie had made it a point to smile and say hi every time Beca passed her in the halls. There was something a little predatory about the way she did that made Beca a little nervous at first. Her stuttered greetings were rushed and she usually tried to slink away into the shadows whenever possible. Until Stacie had come over one Wednesday night with a six pack of beer and endless questions.

Six months later the questions hadn’t stopped. But then neither had the beer so it wasn’t horrible. Beca didn’t know why she even enjoyed it so much, she had never really needed gal pals before but she counted on these Wednesday nights now.

Somehow Stacie had made a place in Beca’s life and the smaller woman found herself not minding having a standing drinking date. Stacie tossed her long legs over the arm of the overstuffed chair in Beca’s living room and full on man-style belched. Beca’s face twitched in a smirk as she shifted her position on the floor to rest back against the couch. “Nice. I see now why you’re so popular.” It was an attempt to deflect, move away from stage two before it even began but it was futile and she knew it when Stacie only blew her a kiss and forged ahead.

“Yeah but like…don’t you want to be with someone?” Beca raised a shoulder in a half shrug as if it didn’t matter much. Even though it kinda sorta mattered a lot.

“Not really.” Lie. “I have goals. I’m here to get into the industry and claw my way to the top. A relationship doesn’t really factor into it. So I guess being a freak of nature doesn’t really matter.” It was coming. She could feel it. The inevitable stage three. Pity. There was always pity in the eyes of every single person she’d had to explain this to. And Beca liked Stacie, she didn’t really want to feel the weight of all that, she already felt broken enough.

An abrupt laugh made her jerk her head up to blink owlishly at the other woman. Well she hadn’t wanted pity but this seemed somehow worse. “You think you’re a freak of nature? Check this out.” Without a hint of warning or even a second’s consideration on whether the blinds were closed or not Stacie peeled her shirt off and pointed to a row of three smudges down her rib cage. “THIS is a freak of nature.”

It was enough of a shock that Beca almost forgot not to stare at Stacie’s bra clad chest. Almost. She blinked and dragged her gaze to Stacie’s side. Beca’s eyes went wide and she reached out a hand to touch them before she realized what she was doing and jerked it back. They hadn’t quite formed yet, but one had a definite outline of an A. “Dude…”

“I know right?!” She shrugged and pulled her shirt back on, content to reach for her beer as if she hadn’t just flashed someone she barely knew. “My mom thinks it’s some kind of divine blessing or something.” It was clear she disagreed but Beca couldn’t help but feel a little jealous because maybe deep down she thought it was kind of a blessing too. She would have given her right hand to have one of those marks even if she tried to convince herself that she was better off without one.

“So is that why you date so much?” It was putting it politely and they both knew it. Stacie gave her an affectionately amused look and shrugged.

“I just like sex.” Okay then. Beca flushed a little at the bluntness of the statement but nodded anyway. “Is you not having one why you don’t date at all?”

“Fair if somewhat stinging. I just…don’t see the point. Whoever I date is going to have one and that’s not going to be my name. It just leads to hurt feelings and wasted time.” Stacie reached down and pulled another pair of bottles out of the cardboard holder and held one out to Beca. The DJ cracked it open and gestured vaguely to the marks on her friend. “So who do you think A is?” This wasn’t the turn she had expected for the conversation but she couldn’t say she hated it. Once people found out she didn’t have a smudge of her very own they tended to not want to talk about it at all. As if that would somehow offend Beca. The avoidance of it had just made Beca feel all the more lonely. This was almost refreshing.

Stacie’s dark head tipped to the side as she considered it. “I think it’s this guy Aaron I met at The Greek last summer. I was there with this other guy Tony, but we got separated. I ran into Aaron, all tall, blonde, and green eyed, with a banging body.” She gave a mild smirk at the memory of said body and moved on. “He’s just boring as fuck. I mean he’s in the Army or whatever so that’s cool. But he kept talking about his guns and his little sister. And more guns. He talked a LOT about guns. It was annoying.”

It was Beca’s turn to smirk and she didn’t even try to hide it. “Yeah…he sounds like a real winner, Stace.” Who didn’t love a guy that could gush about guns all day long? “I dunno. You don’t seem that into him, not that I have any experience in this but aren’t you supposed to know when you meet your one? Or…three? Don’t you just instantly know and fall in love or whatever?” Beca kept her face blankly bored hoping that Stacie wouldn’t see how much she actually wanted to know the answer.

Stacie was slow to answer and she shrugged. “I dunno. After I met him the A showed up. We didn’t really get to do more than make out and exchange numbers. I didn’t realize until I got home that the A was even there. I’m not exactly anxious to find out. Once I know…it’s like I don’t get to be Stacie anymore. I have to be A’s girlfriend. Or wife. Until that’s over for whatever reason and the next smudge shows a name.”

It hadn’t even occurred to Beca that Stacie had three because she would go through a string of soulmates. She had just assumed they would all be together. It was a thought that should have seemed strange but for some reason felt oddly right. “Huh.” Stacie raised her brows in question but Beca shook her head. “It’s nothing it’s just I didn’t really think about what it could mean to have…three.”

“I just can’t imagine myself tied to one person forever let alone three at the same time. I read up on multiple marks but all I could come up with were extremely rare double marks. No triples. And out of the doubles only two or three out of the half dozen were concurrent relationships.”

Beca narrowed her eyes at Stacie. For someone that went to a lot of trouble to appear brainless she certainly was anything but. “You just…read up on it. Like no big deal let me research all the known cases of multiple marks…” Stacie blinked at her blankly and said nothing. Beca was starting to think that a little part of Stacie did want to find her one. Er. Ones.

The sound of Stacie’s phone jerked them both out of the quiet tension. “Food’s here. You got change for a twenty? I hate giving tips on the app.”

Beca reached over to her coffee table and picked up her wallet. “I got the tip. You covered dinner.” She got up and thumbed through the cash she had. She was sure she had a five in there somewhere. The knock at the door got her attention if only for a second. She didn’t even look up at the delivery guy as she continued to dig around. “Hey thanks…dude you wanna grab som…” Her words trailed off as she finally found what she was looking for and met the eyes of the person at the door.

“Hi…”

“Hi.”

“Hi…” Beca felt like she couldn’t speak. Couldn’t breathe and could only just manage to repeat the one thing that was being said. The red haired woman smiled widely and Beca blinked all at once dazzled and stunned by just how blue her eyes were. The woman’s lips curved into an amused smile and Beca had to remind herself to close her mouth.

“Did you order…?”

“Yep! That’s us.” Stacie bounded over to grab the bags of food. It was enough to bring Beca back to the here and now. “Thanks. Hey B, ya got that tip?” Beca mutely raised the bill without taking her eyes off the delivery woman.

“That’s so kind, thank you.” It should have sounded sarcastic and on anyone else it would have. But it sounded sincere and so sweet that Beca could only nod in response. She licked her lips as the woman pocketed the bill and turned away. Just for a second she had the urge to follow after her but she stayed rooted until the sound of the front door on the building opening and closing reached her ears. She shook herself as she shut the door and turned to find Stacie with a revoltingly smug look on her face.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Beca glared at her for a second before she tossed her wallet on the table and moved to sit on the floor again. She should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy. Stacie’s voice practically purred. “She was hot. Like really hot.”

“Really? I didn’t notice.” Beca opened a container of noodles and picked up her chopsticks. Stacie just laughed in a way that caused a shiver to chase down her spine. Stacie smiled and reached for the carton of orange chicken. The banter was nice. Stacie made her feel like she could just be herself. It was something she’d never had before. She kinda didn’t even mind the teasing.

“Yeah because you give a fifty dollar tip to every delivery person.”

She snorted and shook her head before stopping as that last bit sunk in. “Wait. What? I did what??”

[prosciuttoe]

halloween fic prompt: bellarke + we’re in costume and I know exactly who you are but pretend I don’t so I have an excuse to make out with you just once

A|N: Prompt is slightly tweaked cos I wanted to fit in an exes au somewhere. Enjoy!! x_______________Logically, Clarke knows that the whole point to a masquerade party is to maintain a sense of anonymity. That’s the entire appeal behind it, right? The drama, and the flair, and the mystery of not knowing who’s who. It’s like playing a really convoluted game of charades, except with the lights off, and with the ever-present fear that the person you’re making out with is a Nazi-supporting fascist.

Which is why she can’t help feeling a little cheated that she recognizes Bellamy Blake on sight, mask and all.

Maybe it has to do with the fact that they’ve only broken up two weeks back, and that she’s been closely acquainted to the shape of his ass for years. Or maybe it’s because he’s the only person she knows who would ever deck himself up in the whole centurion garb, matching mask and all.

But it’s what makes it even more ironic, really, considering he has no idea who she is.

“Let me guess,” he says, sidling up to her. “Princess Peach.”

(There’s a minute where she entertains the fantasy of him knowing, somehow— of him being capable of looking at her without any kind of animosity in his eyes, smile easy and chin cocked.

Then she remembers that it’s not who they are.)

“Yeah,” she manages, forcing a smile. It’s loud enough in the club that he wouldn’t be able to discern her voice, probably, but she still pitches it a little lower just to be safe anyway. “And you’re a Roman centurion?”

“Technically I’m just a centurion,” he shrugs, flashing her a smile. The sight of it— effortless and fleeting and everything she’s missed over the past few days— makes her ache, stealing her breath momentarily. “The term itself is pretty much only applicable to a officer of the Roman army, so saying Roman centurion is kind of moot.”

Nerd. There’s a part of her that’s almost in disbelief over how he could think that this is a viable way to pick up girls, really, but it’s Bellamy. Everything from his too-grumpy demeanour to his extensive knowledge on Greek and Roman culture had charmed her.

(It still does, if she’s being entirely honest.)

Her eyes are stinging, but she disguises with it a quick cough, steadying her voice. “Cool,” Clarke says, squaring her shoulders. “So, I know this may be a little direct, but,” she steels herself, digging her nails into the skin of her palm, “do you wanna get out of here? Go somewhere a little quieter?”

It’s funny, because she already knows whatever he says is probably going to break her heart anyway. Still, she’s pretty sure she feels it splinter right down the middle when he nods, smiling faintly. “Okay,” he says simply, extending a hand out. “Where to?”

Tamping down a swell of hurt, she looks away, taking his hand instead. “C’mon,” she says, pushing through the crowd, her ex-boyfriend on her heels, “I know a place.”

It doesn’t take her long to find a quiet stairwell, and she’s on him the second they push through the doors, winding her arms over her shoulders and kissing him, hard. He stumbles back, a surprised huff escaping, but she just presses on anyway, jumping slightly so he lifts her instinctively.

(If this is the last time she’s ever going to kiss Bellamy Blake, she’s damn well going to make it count.)

She’s pawing at the buttons of his shirt when he pulls back, his hand sliding up to her face to hold her steady. “Hey,” he murmurs, pressing their foreheads together. “Just— Clarke. Stop.”

It takes a second for his words to sink in, halting in her tracks as she looks up at him, breathing hard. “You— wait, you knew?”

“Yeah,” he tells her, his fingers sliding through her hair and undoing her mask, his motions careful and measured. Then, a little ruefully, “You think I would have gone off with you, otherwise?”

She can’t help the shaky laugh that emerges, tears rising hard and fast. “I don’t know,” she gurgles, wiping at her face. “I mean I wouldn’t— I wouldn’t blame you, if you did? I was an ass.”

“Are,” he corrects her, smiling slightly. “Present tense. You’re definitely still kind of an asshole a lot of the time.”

She groans, punching at his arm lightly. That seems to ease the tension slightly, at least. “God,” she mumbles, burying her face against the jut of his shoulder. “How are you still joking about this? I— I broke up with you. Because I was scared, and stupid, and—”

“C’mon,” he snorts, pressing a absent kiss to her hairline. “You don’t get to claim full credit, here, Princess. I shouldn’t have said to those things either.” His breath is uneven against her temple, his voice halting as he continues, “You told me from the start, that you wanted to take things slow. I shouldn’t have pushed.”

“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have tried to cut and run either.”

She senses rather than sees his smile. “Yeah,” he says, wry. “That one’s on you.”

Scowling, she pulls back, flicking at his forehead as he veers aside, barely dodging it. “Dick.”

He catches at her hand, his eyes impossibly soft, and she thinks she falls in love with him even more, in that moment. (Sometimes, she wonders how she got so lucky. How she managed to find someone that makes her feel like ten thousand goddamned helium balloons in her chest can also anchor her to the ground, all the same, but here they are.) “A dick you’ve missed,” he teases, kissing at her fingers. Then, so light she has to strain herself to hear it, “I’ve missed you too, Princess.”

“Yeah,” she murmurs, looping her arms around him to pull him close, sealing her lips over his. “I think I can help with that.”

[the-ships-to-rule-them-all]

Tagged by @sometimesrosy! thanks babe, wow I haven’t written fic in months 

1. what is your most popular fic by kudos? comments? bookmarks? are they all the same?

my most popular fic by all marks is We Can Have All That We Ever Want, my first poly rangers fic and the month where I wrote about 15k in like 3 weeks. even though the verse hasn’t been updated since may, it’s still getting a lot of kudos. 

this fic has 719 kudos, 103 comments, and 122 bookmarks and it has been read 10,290 times. 

it’s all insane

2. do you have a favorite of your fics? if not, do you have one you’re most proud of? why?

I’m most proud of my Stydia Big Bang fic, it’s a world war ii au that’s 20k words long called Love in a Warzone. 

I researched a lot for this fic and really got in the zone writing it and seeing people have such great reactions makes my day. 

3. what fandom/ship (if you write for more than one) is your favorite to write for?

I really enjoy writing for the Poly Rangers ship, I feel like I’ve carved out a tiny niche within the Power Rangers fandom. But at the same time, I absolutely love writing Bellarke fic because they’re my babes and I love them so much. 

4. do you have any fics that got more popularity/attention than you expected? if so what were they?

I was shocked at how popular my angsty supercorp fic was, We’re Not Lovers, and also my post finale Olicity spec fanfic was, I don’t think anyone could ever love you (the way I love you)

I wrote them both on the same day, the day I wrote 5k words in like 11 hours. 

5. where do you get your ideas/inspiration from? do you have a fic that you feel is particularly unique in that area?

mainly from my desire to see the fic and realizing I have to write it myself. A lot of it stems from headcanons and needing to write missing moments or first kisses, I have a surprising amount of first kiss fanfics. 

I think my most unique idea is my Ambassadors of Earth verse, which is where the entire universe thinks all the rangers are dating. I keep coming back and adding lines to my word doc at points because I always have ideas. Also the reincarnation series I’m co-writing with @justiceleague2017dirzacksnyder is completely unique and literally comes from a gifset that she made. IT’S GREAT

again for some reason I get very creative because of the ot5

6. do you have a favorite character to write POV for?

I adore writing all the Rangers povs but Jason and Trini come most easily to me. Actually, the vast majority of my fics are multi-pov but I find it easiest to write Bellamy, Lydia and Trini. 

7. what’s your favorite sidepairing to include?

I think I included Scalia in LOVE IN A WARZONE when I first came up with the idea last November and to almost predict canon is honestly super cool. I don’t actually include a lot of side pairings

8. do you have a fic you feel is underrated in comparison to your other fics? or you just wish more people would read?

LOVE IN A WARZONE, it’s a 20k, world war ii, character centric au that has been read by so few people. I think it’s completely underrated and I wish people read more of it. 

also Fates’s Rewrite, a modern dectective bellarke au with some reincarnation mixed, it’s one that I stopped writing, not because I don’t have ideas but there was literally no feedback at all and I don’t have the desire to write it when no one’s reading it. It’s probably my most fascinating idea but I just haven’t had any spark at all

9. what’s something you would go back and change in one of your fics?

god, I always want to go back and do another round of editing. but it’s more I want to add things. I’d add more Bellamy and Clarke stuff to Fates’s Rewrite, right not it’s just a lot of the Greek Gods and that’s less important. 

10. what is your favorite sort of comment to receive on a fic?

“Holy shit, I fucking love how you're writing this, what you're including, and the time you're taking to create honest, vivid introspection for EACH GODDAMN BEAUTIFUL CHARACTER. Bless bless you. I'm avidly looking forward to the next chapter and where you will take this after all the "intros" are done!! (Or maybe I'm assuming too much, I love this fic regardless).” this comment on  We Can Have All That We Ever Want is my favorite comment, sometimes I just go find this comment and grin like a loon and feel better about my writing. That fic also has some of the greatest comments I’ve ever received and sometimes I just go and read all the comments and want to write fic again. like now 

11. what are your favorite genres of fic to write? (e.g. modern au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, etc.)

fluff with angst is my sweet spot but I also really love missing moments

12. what are your favorite tropes to write?

5+1 things, outsider PoV, fake relationship, I love fake relationship

13. do you write fics similar to what you enjoy reading or completely different? both?

both

14. what’s your writing process like?

I get the idea and it usually just sticks itself in my head for hours, nagging at me. Eventually I write it down and depending on how my muse is, I write it all in one go or it happens over months with a random burst of inspiration here and there. 

15. multi-chapter, oneshot, or drabble?

drabble collections, a lot of oneshots but I also do write a decent amount of multi-chapter fanfic, especially in my drafts

16. if someone was only going to read one of your fics, which would you want them to read?

honestly, either LOVE IN A WARZONE or We Can Have All That We Ever Want

I tag: @blyedeeks @lydias-martin @stilesprefers-screamers @justiceleague2017dirzacksnyder @ohmypreciousgirl

questions are copied below

1. what is your most popular fic by kudos? comments? bookmarks? are they all the same?

2. do you have a favorite of your fics? if not, do you have one you’re most proud of? why?

3. what fandom/ship (if you write for more than one) is your favorite to write for?

4. do you have any fics that got more popularity/attention than you expected? if so what were they?

5. where do you get your ideas/inspiration from? do you have a fic that you feel is particularly unique in that area?

6. do you have a favorite character to write POV for?

7. what’s your favorite sidepairing to include?

8. do you have a fic you feel is underrated in comparison to your other fics? or you just wish more people would read?

9. what’s something you would go back and change in one of your fics?

10. what is your favorite sort of comment to receive on a fic?

11. what are your favorite genres of fic to write? (e.g. modern au, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, etc.)

12. what are your favorite tropes to write?

13. do you write fics similar to what you enjoy reading or completely different? both?

14. what’s your writing process like?

15. multi-chapter, oneshot, or drabble?

16. if someone was only going to read one of your fics, which would you want them to read?

[sojohns]

yeah soulmate is such a nice song! i can only agree with you on gangnam beauty. it's ridiculous that people still don't get it. and yes i'm a 95-liner ^^ myungjun definitely has a very lovely and very peculiar voice, one that fits ballads and osts perfectly (and would fit musicals i think) so i'm super happy for him to sing one now for a drama. (i'm almost 5’7 but let's be honest they are all trees) (¼ cause i can't shut up)

you in for a wild ride fam!!!

hey don’t worry i totally get it, really! when i started biasing jungkook in bts he was still underage and my appreciation for him is still very sweet, innocent and proud mom friendlike :’) and tbh i have never really noticed sanha’s nose in particular but it’s very cute that you did. also don’t be sorry i loved reading your essay very much *-* (2/4)

ooh nice questions! tbh ever since the all night concept photos came out i can’t stop thinking about fairy princes so that could be a nice one. or because in all the dramas i have seen him he was a usually cool, confident guy i’d like to see him in a shy maybe nerdy character, i think he would have fun to play that. but i think he’d fit the thriller/action genre too. like a very smart and sly serial killer? he has good facial expressions so i think he could play very versatile roles. (¾)

and about aus, damn i have a lot! i love the above mentioned fairy concept and basically any mythical ones like sirens or greek gods. coffee shop and college aus are always so cute and angsty fated lovers/soulmate aus will be my end. add mutual pining and slow burn and i will spend my weekend reading a 30k story. i have yet to dive into astro fanfics though so if you have any recs, please share *o* and since we are talking about aus, do you like fluff or angst more? // asa

Im so happy he finally got his chance to shine in an OST too!! And yes omg i think his voice would fit musicals too!! lmao they really are trees

lmao thanks for accepting my love for his nose, i tend to notice weird things like that about people, it think its the small things that make people more beautiful or precious ya know??

OMG YES!!! i really want to see eunwoo in a thriller/action film, someone was actually telling me that he should try for a role like Ahn Minhyuk from Strong Women Do Bong Soon too which is so eunwoo too i think!!! but back to a smart and sly killer like yes pls!!! that would be such a wild ride to watch!!

ohhh i love the greek mythology aus so much!!! and omg its like u know my heart cause i live by soulmate aus!!!! slow burn and enemies to lovers is amazing too!!! 30k stories are like my bedtime stories lmao but omg i have some recs for astro fics, but are you ok with m x m stories or do u only like member/reader stories only? let me know cause i have quite a few good stories especially in the m x m section. I was thinking about writing more member/reader fics cause there is barely any in the fandom!!! 

personally i like both angst and fluff together, i think both aspects make a good story, but sometimes when i feel super down i really enjoy reading a good angsty fic to get even more in the mood lmao which one do you like more?