#if anyone who is actually Greek wants to comment on this or share their thoughts please feel free

[moony-2001]

The real-world impact of Lore Olympus

i.e. do your research Rachel

Trigger warning: racism, fetishization, appropriation, mentions of SA

Long post ahead

A while ago, someone told me that Lore Olympus was just a silly little comic written out of boredom. That it was made to be "funny". They told me that "[I] can't hope [for] an extremely [well-written] story when it was just made with the intention to make something goofy" and that if Rachel actually wanted to make something serious like I had, she would write a book and not a comic.

At the time of this exchange, it was past 1 a.m. and I was exhausted. I did not want to argue with this person and it simply wasn't worth my time or energy in the moment.

But looking back at that (mostly one-sided) interaction, I can't help but think that there is so much wrong with that point of view. Of course, everyone is entitled to their opinion about Lore Olympus, whether good or bad. But Lore Olympus isn't just some silly little nothing comic about nothing important. It is a comic that actively appropriates and erases Greek Culture. It is a comic that has no respect for the actual stories that have been passed down over thousands of years whether by word of mouth or written text. It is a comic that perpetuates a false narrative and harmful stereotypes about characters or certain groups of people. So, no, it's not just a silly little comic.

Incorrect information

Here’s an example of what I mean:

When I was doing research for my post about the 10 year time skip, I looked up Leuce to reconfirm the little information I knew about her. Wanna guess the first thing that popped up about her?

A Lore Olympus Wiki article.

Okay. How about Minthe? Hundreds of pictures of her from Lore Olympus and a LO Wiki article as one of the top 3 results. Both character are horribly represented in LO and unfortunately there isn’t really any documented stories or records that can refute how LO paints them. Because of this, other characters in Greek Mythology like Leuce and Minthe, whose stories have little to no documentation, stand to suffer the most harm from deliberate misrepresentation on Rachel’s part.

Of course well-known and better documented figures in Greek mythology face slander as well. What about Thetis or Leto? How about Apollo? All of their portrayals in LO are HORRIBLE. I have seen people online absolutely drag them to filth not because they're upset about how the character is portrayed compared to their mythological counterpart, but because they have no knowledge of how they are actually portrayed outside of LO. They just assume that's how the characters are. Similarly, people who have either very little or no prior knowledge of Greek Mythology and Culture would look at the comic and go "Yep, sounds legit. It must be true." and go about thinking that what is portrayed in LO is accurate to what was transcribed thousands of years ago.

Creative interpretations and racism/fetishization within LO

Don’t get me wrong. Creative interpretations and artistic liberties can be great. When they’re done tastefully. I personally think if done correctly, a Greek myth spun in a modern way has the potential be very good. But that's not what we were given.

Characters like Minthe, Leuce, and Thetis (all nymphs btw) are portrayed as trashy tramps who put out and are used as a foil sabotage Persephone and/or her relationship with Hades. Compare that to Greek Mythology where in the Iliad, Thetis is very well-respected by the gods, particularly Hera. Unfortunately, other similar characters like satrys (and basically any character that isn’t a god) are usually portrayed as a low-class POC that can be easily exploited, manipulated, or used as a temporary villain/lover/pawn to “get back” at Persephone, our white-coded protagonist who can do no wrong.

Additionally, there is a clear race/class bias against characters like nymphs in LO. We see many cases scattered throughout the comic of gods like Hera or Aphrodite referring to nymphs as "trash" or "low class" or the idea that nymphs do not belong with gods being heavily implied if not outright said. I cannot tell you how often I've seen Minthe be called some variant of "cheap" by the readers of LO. Even Persephone (who created the flower nymphs) treats them with such disrespect. She frequently calls them some variant of "stupid" or "simple" like saying how they're not the sharpest crayons in the box even though she's the one WHO MADE THEM. However, it's so odd not really to note that nymphs like Echo, Amphitrite, or Psyche (who was previously disguised as a nymph) are not discriminated against. This is because they are liked or trusted by the gods they are around and ergo are often portrayed as the "good ones", which is a disgusting mindset to have.

We also see the fetishization of nymphs in the comic that is disturbingly similar to the fetishization of women who are Black, Asian, or Latina. It is a known fact that Hades has a flower nymph fetish. Not only is this implied in the comic, but Rachel stated it outright in an old Patreon post. Nymphs are also generally treated as sex-symbols, disposable, and as a lesser-than. Zeus frequently displays this behavior by abandoning nymphs he knocked up in the mortal realm.

For example, when Persephone finds out Apollo is dating Daphne, she isn't upset he's dating her friend. She's upset he's dating a flower nymph, beings that are generally considered to be "rare", "dumb", and objects of sexual desire. Ew.

Even on the Lore Olympus website (loreolympians.com) nymphs are regarded as "beautiful", "desirable", and "very exotic". And when they're not described in a sexual manner they're say it with me now regarded as "low class" or "workers" for some kind of god/goddess.

Final thoughts

So not only is the characterization of characters like Minthe or Thetis harmful to Greek culture and the stories that are so ingrained in their society, but it is also perpetuating harmful stereotypes about people of color and women who are confident in their sexuality.

Of course, the characters within Greek Mythology had their own issues. Zeus was a serial rapist, many of the goddesses deemed to be "feminist" by today's standards were actually horribly misogynistic looking at you Athena. But 1. that's just how things were back then (but that does not make it right) and 2. all of the good, the bad, and the ugly is still there in Greek Mythology. They're not denying how fucked up it is, but they're also not changing their history to better fit their own narrative or the narrative of the modern world. It exists, it happened, but now it is studied and called out by historians.

Rachel, on the other hand, is doing exactly that. She is actively changing the Greek's cultural history to better fit her fic's narrative. She is constantly sweeping things under the rug or going "No this is how it ACTUALLY happened". Lore Olympus is marketed as a "feminist retelling" yet somehow, it takes allllll the ugly parts from Greek Mythology (rape, incest, problematic age gaps, dubious consent, etc.), mixes it with a majority of the issues we have in the modern world (white feminism, rape-apologists/rape culture, grooming, fetishization of certain minority groups, etc.) and then amplifies the concoction to 20. Lore Olympus cannot be a "progressive, feminist, retelling" and also have characters that are morally apprehensive/come straight from the ancient myths. It does not work. In fact, IMO it makes all the problems from both eras worse.

News flash: actual cultures that are still thriving today are not your toys. They are not "made up". They matter. Do better.

[winter-dayz]

Every side of the story

Pairing: Choi Soobin x Reader Greek Mythology AU; Gorgon AU Genre: Fluff Words: 1404 Warnings: assault

Masterlist | Fictober Masterpost

Taglist:  @soobin-chois

“It’s said that she was the only Gorgon that was mortal, which is why she was able to be slain by Perseus.” You spoke up, approaching the quiet man in front of the Medusa statue.

The Greek section was your favorite in the museum, having painstakingly curated the pieces yourself.

You had wanted the exhibit to be engaging and eye-catching while retaining a storyline and educational aspect. You wanted people to learn that there is more than one story—and more than one side to every story—for each of the figures you displayed. You wanted people to want to know more about the mythos, to want to keep coming back to the exhibit.

You supposed it had worked since you had seen this same man meandering throughout your exhibit at least once a week for the past couple months.

While you tried to add new pieces or change out ones that didn’t seem to garner much attention after a while, the Medusa and Gorgon display was the one he constantly returned to. So you made sure to keep it around and updated. Truth be told, it was always one of your favorite displays as well.

The quiet man hummed in acknowledgement and glanced towards you. He had seen you buzzing around the museum every time he visited, although you tended to stick as close to the Greek section as you could—even if there was no one but him in it to help or answer questions for.

When he offered no other words, you nodded politely. “Excuse me, I didn’t mean to bother or intrude. I’ve just noticed you in my exhibit a lot so I thought I would offer some discussion on a shared interest… My mistake…” You began to pass by, not wanting to annoy him.

“Your exhibit?” He questioned back, just as soft-spoken as you imagined.

To most, he wouldn’t seem so quiet. He was tall, towering over you even in your work heels, and extremely handsome. He was always well-dressed and seemed to carry himself fairly confidently.

What you had noticed, though, was that he shied away from eye contact, which was such a shame since he had such beautiful, blue eyes. He kept to himself, especially when the museum was busy or the exhibit was crowded, and made sure not to brush against or touch anyone. While he normally stood so tall above everyone, he seemed to cave in on himself when ignorant museum-goers would rudely comment on the Gorgons.

It was peculiar, his reactions, yet intriguing. Everything about him made you want to know him more, made you want to speak to him more. You hoped this minor interaction wouldn’t be the only one.

“Yes, I’m head of the Greek section here. So I curated the entire exhibit.” You hesitated before motioning towards the Medusa statue, “The Gorgons are actually one of my favorite stories in all of the mythos.”

He was a bit stunned. Obviously he had seen you each time he visited the museum, secretly admiring you from afar. But hearing that you were the one who had dedicated so much time into such an amazing exhibit… The passion you must hold for his own history… It made him admire you a bit more.

“Well, like I said, I didn’t mean to bother you so…” You mumbled at his silence, once again pulling away.

“You aren’t a bother!” He exclaimed, not wanting to see you walk away now that he had the chance to talk to you. “I’m sorry. I’m not– I just–” He huffed in obvious frustration with himself.

You giggled at his flusteredness. “My name is Y/N. It’s nice to meet a fellow Greek mythology enthusiast.”

“Soobin,” he offered with a small, grateful smile.

“My work day ends soon. Would you like to join me for coffee at the café so we can keep discussing the Medusa stories?”

Soobin’s pouty lips broke into a bright grin, eyes closing into crescents. “I would love that.”

🎃

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sor–” Soobin was panicking.

And as much as you wanted to comfort him, you were too stunned. The statue of the man harassing you stood stone-still, literally, in front of you. You couldn’t believe it.

“You turned him to stone…” You finally whispered; your words ripping a loud whimper out of the man as he curled further into himself, scratching at his eyes desperately. 

That snapped you out of it. You wrapped your arms gently around Soobin’s middle, pulling him up from where he was beginning to crouch and, and pushed his head into the crook of your neck. He was hunched awkwardly, but he clung to you regardless.

“Hey, hey, shhhh…” You soothed. “Whatever happened, we’ll figure it out together.”

What had happened was far from something you could just “figure out together.” In fact, you could hardly believe what had happened even once Soobin was calm and explained it to you.

Soobin was a Gorgon.

Or a descendant of one, apparently.

His abilities were in the same realm as his ancestral origins. He could turn mortals to stone. However, because of his own mortal blood, his ability was diluted. It wasn’t so strong that he had no control over it; it also didn’t last forever. The stone would crumble away from the man in a few weeks or so, and he would be unharmed and without memory of what happened—granted no one broke his statue form first.

That would kill him… Apparently.

Normally, Soobin had pretty good control over his ability, and it didn’t affect him too dramatically. It was the reason for his beautiful eye color, though; it was a physical manifestation of the Gorgon genetics. However, when Soobin would get overwhelmed or experience too strong of negative emotions, he risked losing control.

That’s what happened when he saw you being attacked. Apparently.

Soobin was supposed to meet you at your usual café for your fifth date, but he couldn’t wait to see you. He wanted to pick you up from work and walk with you those extra few blocks, just to get as much time with you as possible. He was smitten with you.

So, when he arrived at the back-alley that employees of the museum used to leave and saw you pushed against a wall with a man pulling at your blouse, Soobin lost it.

He had wrenched the man away from you, instinctively dodging the swing of a fist that came his way. Soobin had only meant to shove the guy away, maybe throw a punch or two, but his carefully reined in ability activated instead.

The man’s eyes widened when he could no longer move his legs; his mouth dropped open and he let out a confused, garbled shout, but the stone encased him quicker than he could call for help.

He was a heavy statue to move. That’s what really made the reality of Soobin’s existence sink in. That man that had harassed you, attacked you, tried to… He was really a stone statue now. Just like the ones in your exhibits.

🎃

Surprisingly, you moved past Soobin being a Gorgon rather quickly.

Some days you still couldn’t believe it, but then you just looked at him. He was beautiful. Striking and eye-catching. Of course he was a descendant of Medusa.

He didn’t know her, but he had heard family stories about her and her sisters passed down through the millenia.

According to his own family’s sayings, she was beautiful—way more than him, he claimed when you teased him about his own good-looks. She was beguiling and strong and was a mortal woman originally, turned into a creature with wings and snakes for hair. She had been attacked by a man too, no one is sure who; although, poets claimed it was Poseidon or Zeus; Soobin claimed his family never knew and that Medusa refused to tell anyone. But, unlike you, Medusa didn’t have anyone to protect her. Instead, she wept at the shrine of Athena, the same shrine she had been attacked on the steps of, and begged the goddess to protect her. Athena turned her into a woman who could protect herself instead.

“It might not be true…” Soobin explained, after telling you the story he had been told.

You shrugged, cuddling into your boyfriend’s side. “It’s wonderful anyway. You know I love the different stories, true or not. I want to hear every side.”

[viscountessevie]

Uhhh my OG anon about the poll,,,,you came to the right person: ya non-binary pal is a Greek nerd and honestly wtf is that comparison. Actually you know what Imma just show yall the INSANE ask I just got. Not cos of the anon but the insanity that is the Polio fandom.

I am LEGIT seething at this comparison. First the show wants to do My Fair Lady aka Pygmalion and now this bullshit. RMB (while an okay book) IS NOT THAT DEEP! 

More Under The Cut [Cos it got long and this is the TDLR Sanji is Pissed Version]

Also the book couple had chemistry, the show version does not!! All this education and they can’t fucking read our full arguments. The Greek shit aside, I knew adding the education qn would be a slippery slope this whole fucking convo is SO condescending. It’s giving the assholes who put down Simone for being a college dropout in comparison to CC’s Oxford degree. 

Anyways that’s my knee-jerk reaction to getting these asks - thank you anon for them!! If any of you who has seen this thread, would you by any chance be cool sharing screenshots of this convo? They don’t deserve anonymity for such brain dead takes. I’ll be making a full well thought out thesis about this - you bet your ass you’re getting a spin off to My Fair Lady thesis but now its Why RMB Will Never Be The Odyssey. 

Also anyone else wanna send asks about this post or add comments/reblogs to this post pls do so! Imma compile everything together in one master post and add in everyone’s thoughts on this too. 

Before I forget, I initially made this post to tell the anon to give me time cos this is gonna have a MONSTER of an answer and also I’m working on another long ask atm! So I wanna clear that as well before diving into this. I was gonna tackle S3 asks but this is tooo insane to let it wait 

EDIT: I’m adding in the newer asks because holy shit the extended convo is horrifying: 

The quotes of this full ask between these two screenies were all quotes that are compiled above so it seemed redundant to put those quotes in again but it looks like more people have found that insane public thread yikes. 

I CANNOT STOP LAUGHING AT THIS TAKE “I’m from SEA so I enjoy something more light hearted” LMAO WHAT girlie did you not have strict Asian parents who parentified you?? But I also get it if that person was traumatised by her life that she finds comfort in light hearted romances which is valid but Jesus this is not it. 

You’re SO right babes I’m gonna cover this in my masterpost. I think they’re trying to overcompensate because we always call them dumb for liking a ship with no chemistry and one of them is a racist in their show version. Anyways can’t wait to see what else yall have to tell me on this topic! Also it doesn’t have to be just the Education question, since we’re talking about the poll we might as well pick it apart! 

[darlingpoppet]

[20 Question Fic Writer Tag]

Tagged by @johaerys-writes (who is always welcome to tag me in stuff whenever they want because it makes my day every time <3)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? 16 as of now. I have another fic I’m not yet allowed to publish outside of its anthology that I’d like to upload eventually, and I also have new WIP currently in the works, so the number is slowly growing!

2. What is your AO3 word count? 128,406… I’ve only been actively publishing on my AO3 account for about 2 years so I’d say it’s a pretty decent output!

3. What fandoms do you write for? Right now just two: Shingeki no Kyojin/Attack on Titan (mostly Eruri), and Patrochilles (from The Iliad/Hades/TSOA/etc. because it’s better to say the ship itself is the fandom right? lol) Although Hades in itself can perhaps be considered a separate third category because that particular spin on Greek Mythology & its interpretation of Patrochilles has particularly captured my imagination, and because I’ve written for other ships in that universe like PZA and MZT

4. What are your top five fics by kudos? In descending order: Pressed Flowers, Strain, Upon A Lazy Bed, Once More, and Closest To My Heart (the latter two are currently tied for 4th but Closest might eke ahead once this is posted haha.) I actually really love how these are a pretty good representative sample of my works: Eruri, Patrochilles (TSOA-verse & Hades-verse), PZA; some smutty, some angsty & some sweet; their ratings are all that AO3 offers: 1 G, 1 T, 1 M, & 2 E. I’m a bit sad that as of this writing Where The Dead Forget has been knocked out of the top 5 but since it’s still an ongoing WIP that’s only like 25% done, assuming its readership grows, it’ll certainly claw its way back up through the rankings lol

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? I do my best to respond! I like to show my gratitude to anyone who kindly takes the time to share their thoughts, and also I love to be able to discuss the story & characters when I have the opportunity! I’ve done my best to be diligent about responding ever since I started posting Patrochilles fics but unfortunately I still have an accumulated backlog from the earlier days of posting… my inbox is sitting at an ignominious 28 “unreads” atm (although I promise I did read & savor each one! I’ll respond eventually, I promise!!)

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Pressed Flowers and Upon A Lazy Bed both have pretty bittersweet endings. Closest To My Heart has a “happy” ending that in the context of the rest of the story is in fact rather bleak, and I’ve rightfully gotten a lot of feedback that people found it pretty unsettling, haha.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Nonbiri-ya, perhaps? Or perhaps it’s Sea Of Love, if you’re a Hadesgame enjoyer who’s also familiar with the Achilles myths and the prophecies about his life

8. Do you get hate on fics? I haven’t received any so far. If anyone dislikes what I’m cooking up they’re gratefully keeping it to themselves or at least where I can’t see it, haha.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Yes and this year especially I’ve been trying to get better at it! I’ve always personally enjoyed smut that’s used as a vehicle for character/relationship study, that combo of eroticism + emotion is soooo good. As for what kind it is… uhhhh I’m not sure since I’ve done everything from tender & romantic, “fade-to-black” scenes to dead dovey fetish fuel and everything in between, lol. I hope I write the kind of smut that’s hot I guess uwu

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? Not really, unless you’d consider mixing & matching details of different Greek mythology retellings into a new story to be a crossover… but personally I don’t think it counts haha. Sea Of Love in some ways feels like a TSOA/Hades crossover but I think it’s more just the vibes since it was still my aim to depict Hadesgame versions of Patrochilles during their childhood

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I know of… hopefully not haha

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? I’ve translated several of my own fics into Japanese for doujinshi publishing purposes: The Upper Hand, Stomach & Heart, Odd One Out, and one more that isn’t on AO3 yet called LoveSick Arrows. I also translated Upon A Lazy Bed into Japanese for fun over a year ago and I’ve been meaning to post it for ages but my partner who usually betas my translations still hasn’t looked it over haha. My fic Harmony was translated into Russian and Ukrainian as part of a fandom group project. Also, I once received a request from someone who wanted to translate The Upper Hand into Russian. Not sure if it ever happened… perhaps it’s out there somewhere on ficbook, though I’m not sure where! (If anyone knows I’d love to link back to it!)

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before? No, never! I’m not sure how a writing collaboration works exactly but it might be fun to try sometime!

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? Oh god… I mean I would have to say it’s eruri right? Just for the sheer amount of time & the degree I’ve gone hard for this ship… all the friendships I made and the person I’ve become literally would not have been possible without it. My comparatively recent foray into writing has come at a time when that passion is in a more dormant period though. And instead I’m having a lot of fun writing with Patrochilles which I can already tell will be another all-timer for me (two years ago me would probably be surprised to know that current me is taking Classical Greek lessons because the hyperfixations cannot be controlled, amirite?) I’ve enjoyed a lot of ships but I’ve had so few genuine OTPs my whole life because once I fall in love with a ship I fall HARD. Probably the only other one that has genuinely changed my life like Eruri and Patrochilles have is Wolfstar… that one definitely comes with a lot of bittersweetness but at least I can still say I have a lot good memories attached to it <3

15. What's a WIP you'd like to finish but doubt you ever will? I wanna say “never say never” because every time I look through my WIPs and fic ideas I’m always like “oh this was so good! I should return to it!” I had always wanted to do my own “Erwin lives” fic but I’m not sure exactly if I have enough passion atm to bring something interesting or unique to that little sub-genre. Maybe someday, if I have a good enough idea. I’ve also for the longest time had a “what if Erwin joined the Military Police instead of the Survey Corps” story idea because back in the early days of the eruri fandom there were a lot of popular fanon & AUs where Erwin was an MP or ex-MP (probably popularized by Audacity?) That mini-genre pretty much died out once we learned his canon backstory but I still wanted to do one in conversation/playing with the canon, because I think that would be an interesting vehicle to explore his character motivations by considering an alternative & I think I could make a neat little political thriller out of it. Again, maybe someday. I think the only WIP I have actually talked about that’s well & truly “dead” is the Achilles POV fic I said I was writing in the notes for Upon A Lazy Bed. It was just too episodic and I could never really come up with a proper narrative through-line for it. On the bright side, much of what I had written for it and its overall thesis statement ended up getting repurposed for Where The Dead Forget, so at least it lives now as something else. There are still a couple orphan stand-alone episodes from it that I still quite like, so maybe I’ll publish them as a little TSOA-verse drabble collection or something someday.

16. What are your writing strengths? I think I’m pretty good at creating a certain tone and atmosphere. I also think I’m getting good at making my prose flow in a rhythmically pleasing way. A friend once called my writing “lyrical” & I think it was one of the kindest compliments I’ve ever gotten ;o;

17. What are your writing weaknesses? I said this in an earlier ask meme but I don’t think I’m very good at action scenes, it’s hard for me to make a sequence of actions both interesting & make sense and I don’t really enjoy writing them haha. They’re harder than sex scenes too because at least in those you can weave in a lot more emotions among the “choreography”. Also: long-form serialized storytelling does not come naturally to me at all and I’m unsure if I do a good job with things like pacing or being able to clearly see both the forest & trees. Time will tell I guess lol. On that note, I’m also a pretty slow writer. I am Not that author who gives regular weekly/monthly updates haha.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? Personally I don’t really encounter this often but when I do it’s usually demonstrating a language barrier between the characters, or something being purposely obfuscated from the reader, which I think is all fine & legit. I suppose you would see it more often between characters who are understood to not actually be speaking in the language of the fic, yeah? I was reading a novel recently that was injecting all sorts of words & phrases in the language of the setting and idk… I guess it added to the atmosphere but when I can’t understand what they’re saying even though it’s something the pov character is meant to understand then it starts to feel a bit alienating and I don’t like it, haha.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Gundam Wing, I think? LMFAO! I was 12 and I wrote some kind of AU where they all go to camp and I’m pretty sure it was pure tween cringe haha. The first fandom in which I posted more publicly was Harry Potter. The only one I really remember from back then was a James/Sirius fic I wrote when I was 16 that nowadays would be considered dd content… it’s probably lost to the sands of time but even now I still think the concept was solid uwu

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? The ones I’ve always felt pretty stoked on since posting them are Upon A Lazy Bed and Closest To My Heart… both of them because I enjoyed toying with the ideas behind them, and to me they successfully evoke the atmosphere and emotional responses I was going for. And if I can continue make my writing as pretty as I think UALB ended up being I’ll be very happy indeed! Also: I felt kind of iffy on LoveSick Arrows (the one not on AO3 yet) when I first submitted it but recently I reread it and I think it turned out way better than I gave it credit for… it might be my favorite eruri fic to date :)

Tagging @galpalpetraral @zorthania @lostcauses-noregrets @he1chouarts @goddamnchou @ladymacbethsspot & @elemmacil <3 Also belatedly tagging @sonderous-opia because I couldn’t remember what your tumblr account name was until now ;o;

[nepobabyeurydice]

open tag by @joanna-lannister!

20 fic writer questions!

How many fics do you have on ao3?

59! Honestly participating in fandom events is such an excellent way to get yourself writing even if you don’t finish all the prompts.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

Minus the Red Falcon, since that a two person project…106,611 words. It’s been two years since I’ve made that account…

What fandoms do you write for?  

Percy Jackson, ASoIaF, DCU, and Naruto are what I’m writing for right now. (Batman only happened because brutalia lured me in, and Damian is fav. I’m more of a superman fan tbh.)

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?   

1. The flail of lashing hail - 1037

2. the gray and beamless atmosphere - 1006

3. The Red Falcon - 653

4. spilling through the dam like a storm - 201

5. Updated for the First Time in Ten Years - 163

Do you respond to comments? 

Yup! I usually leave the Red Falcon for my co-author to respond to, but the rest of the fics are my prerogative! Usually it’s a quick line of hearts but I love having more interaction with people!

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? 

hands full of fire - the fic that made the most people cry. I’m very proud of myself for that one!

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? 

Uhhhh….UHHHH…When you get told off by a child, i think???? my brand is angst and inspecting throwaway lines. Happiness is not my bread and butter.

Do you get hate on fics?

The Red Falcon gets the most because people have their own thoughts on how we should write a mostly pre-planned fic. But the exhausted chorus got THE BEST hate comment i’ve ever seen with ‘dick-riding’ as its leading line. I love that comment. It gives me life.

Do you write smut? 

Yeah, variety is the spice of life.

Do you write crossovers?

Yup! the dagger and the joyless eye and to the spinning crones series are crossovers!

Have you ever had a fic stolen? 

As far as I’m aware no. TRF’s presence on alternate platforms is managed by Aemon and I, but I have a feeling that gray and beamless may end up snatched if don’t take initiative on Wattpad.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No! I’d love to have a few oneshots translated though!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? 

The Red Falcon! I’d like to do another one with a friend, but most of the fandoms we share aren’t up for a full scale rewrite or intensive universe alterations.

What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Percabeth, I keep on coming back to them like a boomerang.

What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? 

5 times kara’s kryptonese lessons saved lives. god bless this fic is pretty subscribed to but I Doubt.

What are your writing strengths? 

Characterization and dialogue. I’m pretty economical with both and tend to make it so it flows better. When it comes to mid length fics I like doing dialogue first.

What are your writing weaknesses? 

Action…help.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? 

LOVE IT. Oh, the only reason I’m not doing it all the time is because there aren’t any completely accurate ancient greek translators and I’m trying to find the one I used for a piece for class in order to continue Invictus Maneo.

First fandom you wrote for?

Marvel. Like an actually published fic. I think it was like…Tony & Bruce (Banner)? Lot of science bros jokes i recall.

Favorite fic you’ve written?

This feels a bit mean but um, Chrysus is my fav. it’s because of Hazel. It’s because of my little heart. But Chrysus wins.

Tagging: Anyone who wants to!

[relaxxattack]

hi im asking u this bc u seem to be bee duo enthusiast so

ive been calling c! beeduos relationship platonic because i thought that was what their cc’s said, and i thought they had said that they were uncomfortable with ppl shipping the characters. But ive seen a lot of posts that say their relationship is canonically romantic? and i absolutely do not want to come across as homophobic by watering down a mlm relationship to just friends because that happens so much in media so.

what is the canon state of their relationship / ur opinions on the platonic thibg

dont worry abt answering if u dont want to!! i see a lot of differing opinions and i trust yours :)

aw it’s totally fine, im flattered you asked me about this!

let me put it simply: it’s a whole mess, lol.

first im going to talk about what’s happened fandom-wide that caused differing opinions, and then i’ll explain my own opinion/interpretation. :]

(this got really fucking long im so sorry)

ranboo and tubbo initially proclaimed the relationship was romantic, specifically in argument with the wiki editors who had set it as platonic by default. (you can see this in the vod where they decide they’re canonically married— it’s very funny. chat tells them the marriage is already on the wiki, they check, tubbo is jokingly offended that it says platonic and asks if he needs to up the romance).

tubbo also makes jokes about adultry, which sort of implies the relationship is not necessarily a platonic one.

(theres definetly more in that stream alone but it’s been a long time since i watched it so i don’t remember a lot of it.)

the wiki, because of this, suffers from going back and forth on platonic and romantic, seemingly unsure where the joke ends and the canon begins, or if its canonically a joke! a mess, as you can already tell.

this gets more complicated as the marriage bit goes on: outsiders, such as phil and scott, both at one point say “platonic marriage”, which then ranboo and tubbo agree with. however, when chat asks them if they’re platonic, they say the opposite. so there is a lot of confusion there.

there’s also the difficulty of being able to tell streamers and characters apart. ranboo and tubbo both don’t like being shipped irl, and that’s their boundaries that shouldn’t be crossed. (they’re also minors, but tbh when they’re 18 in a year i will still be following their boundaries regardless of their legal age).

due to people not wanting to be accused of minor shipping, they started adding the platonic tone indicator to most of their drawings— basically a way of saying “no homo”. meanwhile, tubbo frequently on stream flirts with ranboo and makes quite a bit of nsfw comments towards him that are frankly hilarious.

this goes on for a while with nobody really sure what’s canon, but a lot of people assuming it’s probably platonic, until: the drama of the mods night. a few mods dmed all the wiki editors telling them ranboo wanted his canon character relationship officially set to platonic.

unfortunately for those mods; the very same day, a few hours later, ranboo on stream makes fun of puffy delivering him and tubbo “friendship flowers”. because, and i quote, “bruh. we’re literally married. this must be how the ancient greeks felt.”

in case you don’t know, the internet often jokes about how historians will call ancient greeks ‘very good friends’ when they are quite obviously gay. so in this context, ranboo is joking that people will call him and c!tubbo, who are married, “close friends”, when he doesn’t think they are.

basically, ranboo canonized romantic bee duo, the very same day the mods told everyone he’d wanted a platonic one.

chaos and drama immediately erupted everywhere. on tumblr, we were talking about how weird it was of his mods to do something like that without asking him first. we ALSO talked about how weird it was of them to assume that ranboo can’t make his own decisions, or assume teenagers cannot be in relationships without it being sexual. twitter did the same thing but in the opposite direction: called ranboo mods homophobic, or said they were mad ranboo felt pressured into making a romantic relationship canon ‘just so people could have mlm rep.’

i dont want to go into detail about the drama that happened that night because apparently official people follow me and i dont want to stir it up or have them come “clarify” things. im just saying what we talked about.

ranboo in typical ranboo fashion apologized quickly and seriously. he was deeply sorry for possibly offending anyone with how he’d portrayed his rp relationship with tubbo, and he also assured everyone the mod thing was just a miscommunication.

he said he would talk to tubbo and they’d decide once and for all whether it was platonic or romantic, and then announce so everyone would know.

it’s now been a few months and we've had no word from them on that development. we still have no clue.

-

now, here’s my opinion:

i want to take ranboos word for it that it was a miscommunication with his mods, but... we had it on good authority from people on the wiki team and people in the discord with the mods that (while it was happening) they were really going after the wiki admins, and also made some weird comments about it. that combined with the way ranboo seemingly had no clue (considering he canonized their romance that very same day).... it’s very. sus of the mods.

then there’s the canon we’ve got since then. although occasionally adults in the room have called it a “platonic marriage” and tubbo once (back when it first started) called it a “plankton tectonic” marriage, in roleplay it’s been... kind of not that. tubbo and ranboo make nsfw jokes about each other in character, and their characters also share a master bedroom and bed in the mansion. there's also the way c!tommy really thinks it’s a romance between them as well, and they agree with and play off that— for instance confirming that they “fell in love” when he asked, or ranboo confirming that they “make out on occasion”.

people will still put platonic on their art and posts, imo, because they’re worried about breaking ranboo and tubbo’s irl boundaries by looking like they ship them. or even just being accused of shipping real life minors. and that’s a valid fear to have.

the thing is though: c!bee duo are not cc!bee duo. they’re roleplay characters. cc!bee duo are not okay with being shipped, but they made their characters get canonically married, and call each other “husbands”. so it’s okay to write the word “husband” in your comic without adding “platonic” to it, i promise.

telling the ccs that their characters have to be platonic is... weird. it comes off as not only babying them, but also as saying teens can’t date without it being gross. which isn’t true.

(this is why seeing people overuse “platonic husband” so much bothers me. like, they ARE husbands. you can just say it. what are you trying to hide...?)

-

do i think they’re canonically romantic? ehh, its likely. it’s still okay to interpret them as platonic, because again, it’s hard to tell where jokes end and roleplay begins. like, maybe it’s jokes in the rp too, and c!bee duo are just friends. friends can and should be allowed to make jokes like that with each other! aro & ace marriages exist!

or, maybe it’s actually part of the rp, and they’re very much romantic. we don’t know!

some people say they could be a qpr (queerplatonic romance), which i could see. (a qpr is a relationship that fluctuates between, or can’t quite be sorted into, “romantic” and “platonic”. people in a qpr can do romantic things while having platonic feelings for each other). in my opinion this is a very valid interpretation as well!

-

CONCLUSION (sorry this got so long omfg):

are c!bee duo romantic?

its likely, but you can still interpret them however you like!

should i put /p on bee duo content?

ehhh? i find it annoying when it’s overused (as do others), but if you’re worried you can. its up to preference. putting it too much is weird though

should i put /p on things cc! bee duo do?

no. you’re not the one saying it so you can’t decide the tone tags for that. imagine you said something to your friend and a random stranger came up and was like “haha but that was /p right...?”

can i ship c!bee duo?

mmm. i’m not sure on this one. they are canonically married and very flirtatious, but the ccs don’t like being shipped and they’re close enough to being the ccs that actively shipping might be against boundaries.

can i treat c!bee duo as romantic?

yes. literally just don’t be weird about it. it’s not that hard! you can understand that two characters are husbands without making it weird

here’s the most important thing: boundaries. cc bee duo still haven’t told us what their preferences and canon is about this whole thing.

right now, i am assuming based on what they already show us they’re comfortable with, but! the second they give us any more info! all these opinions will change!

i am only going off what they do. i would never want to cross boundaries at all. i just wish they would make theirs a little more clear.

..... i hope that helped anon, i went way off the rails... i need to go to sleep.

[heyovivi]

Elucien Theory: Hercules Retold

So I have a theory and it was inspired by a user here on Tumblr—I am so sorry I did not get their user but if you know them please send me their @ because it's all because of them that I was able to come up with this theory! And if anyone else has thoughts about this then please share your thoughts in the comments—and no hate please this is just me speculating and looking to the future!

Anyways, continuing on…

A few days ago, I came across this Elucien post on Tumblr and it was small, simple. It was just saying that the song, “I won’t say I’m in love”, sang by Meg in the Disney adaptation of Hercules, is like Elain’s song when she’s falling in love with Lucien but she won’t let herself admit it.

Now, this small post sparked an interesting theory for me. Almost everyone of my Elucien mutuals have speculated that Elain’s story is highly reminiscent of Rapunzel—and before I couldn’t really see it. To be honest, I myself am not a huge Elucien shipper—but whatever makes Lucien happy makes me happy (I just want his story to conclude on a good note).

Moving on, SJM has already told the story of Rapunzel but she didn’t do it ACOTAR she did it in TOG with Elide. This made me have my doubts about Elain and Lucien being endgame because why would SJM recycle a story she’s already told? Of course, as an author she’s entitled to do whatever she wants but I, myself, highly doubted that she would recycle stories.

Because of this, I was strongly convinced that Elain was going to go evil (due to some questionable wording around Elain’s actions in ACOSF), and that Lucien was going to find a happy ending with just rediscovering his family (I.E. discovering who his real father is).

However, after stumbling across the post, I am a firm believer that if Elucien were to become endgame than their story wouldn’t be reminiscent of Rapunzel, but instead it would be a retelling of Hercules.

Now, if you grew up with the classical late 90’s-to early 2000’s Disney animation then chances are you’ve watched Hercules—but if you’re like me you’ve watch Hercules about a couple dozen times. And so you know the story inside and out—the Disney version NOT the actual Greek myth. We don’t want the actual Greek myth because that would entail that Elain dies a horrible death and we all know SJM likes her happy endings.

But anyways (getting side tracked), there are so many theories that can plug into this one. It can connect the evil Elain theories, Koschei theories, and maybe even some Lucien theories.

Let’s start first with the big theory.

Elain.

Now if I’m being honest I don’t like Elain. I really don’t. I don’t connect with her. Don’t understand her. And really that’s probably because I haven’t had the chance to read from her point of view. But after ACOSF her likeness has just decreased exponentially. Though because of this theory I have found some new found hope in her character.

In ACOSF I felt like it was heavily hinted at that Elain was working behind the scenes. She was doing things that Cassian thought questionable, she was roaming around, acting sort of out sorts, and honestly she wasn’t the Elain we had grown accustomed to in the books prior to ACOSF.

“Elain has already departed with Feyre, claiming she had to be up with the dawn to tend to an elderly faerie’s garden. Cassian didn’t exactly know why he suspected this wasn’t trie. There had been some tightness in ELain’s face as she’d said it.”

Not to mention it felt like she was trying hard to insert herself in situations where we, as readers, weren’t sure if she was fully capable of because a) she hadn’t had the proper training, and b) she never ought to put herself in situations that were dangerous or were outside of her own comfort zone (like you can go looking for dead troves but you can’t go out hunting to feed your family with Feyre (sorry—again she’s just not my favorite character)).

So all of this led me to believe that she was working behind the scenes—like Meg did in Hercules.

As the story goes, the animated one at least, Meg sold her soul to Hades and in exchange he resurrected her lover who—soon after, left her for another leaving Meg to forever be the puppet of Hades and pawn in his plan. I feel a similar situation is going to go down with Elain and Koschei.

What I theorize is that Elain, after the events of ACOFAS and before the events of ACOSF, somehow communicated with Koschei (because remember, love makes people desperate) and in exchange for making her human or finding a way to make her human, she would act as his eyes and ears. And remember, this isn’t so far-fetched. Koschei can literally whisper on wind and control people despite being bound to the lake.

So like Meg, Elain made a deal with the devil in the name of love.

Now, let’s move onto Koschei.

Koschei, in this case, would be Hades. He makes deals, bargains, yadada and if I’m right he is using Elain as a pawn to get an inside scoop on the Inner Circle and possibly to get closer to Azriel?

For some reason Koschei has some interest in Azriel—and large part of that could be because the fourth dead trove is connected to Azriel and in order to get close to him Koschei is using Elain’s feminine wiles to seduce him and what not. Now—anyone can probably argue that that’s probably why this could very well be an E/riel theory—but it’s not. Because I firmly believe that Elain’s book isn’t next. I believe Azriel’s book is next and by the end of his book, Koschei’s interest in him will dwindle as he sets his eyes on Lucien.

Why Lucien? What could Lucien possibly have to do with Koschei?

Well who happens to be the one placing powerful wards on the dead troves?

Helion (and Rhys?).

And who could possibly rival him in such magic?

His son. Lucien.

We’ve seen the power that Lucien holds—we’ve seen that in moments of stress (such as Elain getting tossed into the cauldron) that Lucien is capable of replicating his father’s magic, unconsciously. So in order to get a hold of the dead troves Koschei could use Elain to get close to Lucien in hopes that he could—idk break through Helion’s wards?

But like the movie things don’t always go as plan…

I’m going to get back to Koschei but let’s move onto Lucien.

Now, in the story Hercules had his trusty companions and so does Lucien. Lucien has the exiles and something tell me that his main focus is going to be freeing Vassa from her curse with the “help” of Elain (who is undercover for Koschei).

I think that Koschei has a few tricks up his sleeves, a big one that he literally lives on an Island of monsters that do his bidding. So like the lion, the hydra—they could be possible obstacles in Lucien’s path shun him away to finding a way in breaking Vassa’s curse.

But like the Disney adaptation, Elain, like Meg, starts to fall in love with Lucien because he’s not guy she thought he was and he’s so much more than a guy with a fire dick. But she has to keep on spying for Koschei because he doesn’t want Lucien and the exiles to break Vassa’s curse.

But when Elain says no more, I’m done, Koschei reveals her as a spy and uses their bargain to try to harm Lucien which might lead to Elain being selfless and shattering the bond to free Lucien from being bound to her, or Lucien shattering the bond because he felt betrayed because the woman he loves had been deceiving him all along.

And then what happens next…well I don’t really know what happens next. I mean, Elain could always die and be resurrected like Meg was but honestly I really have no idea??? Like it would be cute that if Elain was resurrected she was resurrected as human and then Lucien decides to bound his life to her like Lorcan did with Elide or something—but again, recycling plot lines. But from there it could literally go anywhere.

What I do think might happen is that Elain and Lucien will probably travel the world together? Lest not forget that despite being coddled most of her life, Elain also wanted to travel to the continent with her father during his business dealings but never had the chance. So safe to say that (fingers crossed) Helion won’t be dead and Lucien can finally catch a break!

Tell me your thoughts in the comments!

[wordynerdygurl]

Hello Everyone! I've been conspiring with @sammy-jo1977 to create a new series of sorts. We want to explore all those characters that started us on our journey into Fandoms, large and small.

This series will be a place for those ladies and gents who haven't had a lot of attention recently, are old favorites or the ones you can't seem to shake. If you would like to contribute a chapter to this guide, please send me a message! We want to have a full and accurate guide, so we are hoping you'll hop in with your character of expertise!

As an example, I'm posting our first story... I'd love to get your thoughts! With Love - Your WordyNerdyGurl

In The Stacks - A Rupert Giles Story

Author’s Note:  This story is due, in large part, to my beta-bestie @sammy-jo1977 and it is part of the afore mentioned series.  This character might be off television, but his fiery spirit lives on!! As always, reblogs/ shares are encouraged as are comments and love!

Pairing:  Female Reader x Giles (Buffy The Vampire Slayer Series) Summary:  You get up to mischief with the librarian, in the stacks. Warnings:  SMUT ahead.  General Buffy knowledge might help, but is not required.  There’s a moment with a bit of blood, but hopefully nothing too triggering for anyone! I hope you enjoy!

“Mr. Giles?” “Just a moment!”  You heard the clipped British voice answer before being drowned out by the heavy thumping of falling books and the rustling sound of shifting papers hitting the floor. As you stepped further into the Sunnydale High library, you weren’t surprised to see the familiar faces of Buffy, Willow, Xander and Cordelia huddled around a small table.  The friends were practically inseparable and clearly close.  You found their kinship adorable and couldn’t help smiling at the group as you drew closer. “Hello to some of my best students!  And of course, to you Mr. Harris.  How is everyone today?”

Willow, stalwart student and overachiever, smiled broadly, “Pretty good.  I did ace my math quiz and got an A on my English paper… but, well, I only pulled a B on my Bio test and I just know that I could have done better.” Offering her friend a consoling pat to the shoulder, Buffy sighed, “It’s ok, Will.  You’ll get those cells next time!” “Tune in next week as Willow passes her AP Biology test with flying colors, on ‘As Sunnydale Turns’!” Before anyone could counter, Giles came around the corner carrying a sturdy stack of texts which he dropped onto the table as gently as the large load allowed, “As always, you four are the best assistants a librarian could ask for.” “Come on Giles!  You know I only hang out here for the beautiful ladies!” Pinching the bridge of his strong nose, Rupert Giles sighed, “I am well aware of where your interests lie, Xander.” “Please, he can hardly handle being with one beautiful girl.”  That was from Cordelia who pouted prettily, her hand mirror open as she fixed her hair. “My girlfriend, ladies and gentlemen!  Thanks for that, Cordy.” Snapping the case shut, staring down her beau, she smiled, “You’re welcome.” “Uh, Mr. Giles, if I may?”  You hated to interrupt but you had come in with a purpose and you meant to see it through. “Yes, of course, how can I help?” Shuffling your feet, a bit nervous now with the asking, you smiled shyly, “I asked at the local library but they were absolutely no help.  You see, I’m looking for a specific point of reference and I was led to believe that you could help me.” “Oh!  Is it something for our Inner Vision collage boards?  I love working on mine, only… It’s not my fault that I only see dark clouds and blood when I close my eyes.” “Well, Miss Summers, beauty is in the eye of the beholder.  And the best art challenges us to see that beauty.” “I hate to tell you what I see when I close my eyes.”  Xander retorted. “Ah, Mr. Harris, your collage certainly showcases your, ahem, cultured world view.” “Hey!  The Simpsons are fine art, ok?  Just because they don’t live in a museum doesn’t mean they aren’t culture.” Giles, unable to stand by any longer griped, “Xander, I am almost positive that cartoons do not count as culture.” You started to answer but Buffy cut you short, adding, “Don’t mind Giles.  If it doesn’t come out of some dirty, dusty old book it can’t be culture.” “It’s pop culture!  The entertainment of my generation!” It was your turn to cut in, turning to the tweed clad gentleman, “Actually, Mr. Giles, Xander has a point.  Cartoons and animation in general are all increasingly seen as valid forms of art.  No matter what your tomes might tell you.” Smirking a little, he appraised your answer before replying, “Be that as it may, Mr. Harris, the amount of television you consume is corrosive.” Raising his hands in defense, Xander’s head swiveled between the two of you as Willow chimed in, “Give it up, Xander.  You know you’ll never win and besides, I’m pretty sure that animation and art are different.  Wait.  They are, aren’t they?” “When I was in Rome last summer, the very attractive, very Italian tour guide told us that they’ve found painted graffiti on the Coliseum.  It only goes to prove that times change but people don’t.” “Cordy’s right!  About the art, not the dishy Italian.  And they didn’t paint it, they carved it.”  Bouncing her blonde hair decisively, Buffy made her declaration.   “Wouldn’t paint be easier?  I mean, who wants to carry a chisel in order to deface a wall?” “Oh!  Oh!  I know this!  The kind of paint needed to last for centuries hadn’t been invented yet!”  Willow, lifting out of her seat in the excitement of academic excellence, was giddy. “Yes, Willow, that is correct.  In fact, a lot of the graffiti is simple and very crude.  Mostly of the phallus, if memory serves.  I’m sure I can find a documented case in Agrippa if you’ll all just-” And you watched as everyone rolled their eyes as Giles trailed off, lost now in the hunt for a specific volume which could be sited, should further proof be needed. “Ew.  Pass.” “I’m with Buffy here, Giles.  Keep your Grecian graffiti out of my brain.” “I’ll stick with the Simpsons, thank you very much.” “Yes, well.  It’s not Grecian at all, is it?  It’s Roman-” Smiling broadly, Buffy hopped off the table, “Giles is right.  The Greeks were more into orgies!” “Buffy!”  Willow’s shocked response made you cover a laugh with a fake cough. “-Of course, cites are rare.  Very difficult to find documentation.”  Giles, typically, hadn’t given up the search. Cutting through the chatter, louder than it ever needed to be, the period bell sounded. "Ugh.  Gym class for me.  Why is this even a thing?" "I don't know Buffy, I thought you liked showing off in your little shorts and beating the boys at basketball." "Cordy, that's enough.  And while us boys do love looking at you, Buff... we don't love the beatings you regularly deliver." "Well, I have a free period Giles!  Do you want me to stay and -" Snapping shut the leather book he was gripping, Giles caught your eye and turned to the peppy student, "Uh, no Willow, I don't think so.  I believe I need to see what our Art Department is in need of at the moment." With a shrug, Willow began packing up her belongings as Xander slung his back back over his shoulder, "Will, you can come with me.  I'm going to find a nice little corner, under a tree, and sleep away my study hall." “But, I… I could help find the Agrippa?  Or… some other old Roman book?” Xander wrapped an arm around Willow and took Cordelia’s open hand, “But why do that when nothing calls?” "Another fine example of your scholastic aptitude, Mr. Harris", was your parting shot at the foursome as they walked out the door. "Well. Mr. Giles, now that we’re alone… Could I talk you into helping me out?" “Of course, of course.”  Pushing his glasses further up his nose, fixing his light eyes on yours, “What are we looking for?” Sighing deeply, knowing the chances were slim, “I was hoping we would find some examples of Pre-Columbian deity carvings.” Pausing, his look serious, Giles peered at you, “Interesting.  Anything in particular?” “Yes, actually.”  Again you flushed, more than a little flustered at what you were really looking for, “I’m researching fertility icons.” Raising his eyebrows, Giles started, more than a little outside of his comfort zone, but you had to give him credit.  He recovered from the shock rather quickly, “Oh… I… I see.  Well yes, I’m sure we can find… something.  If you’ll follow me, please.” “I’m right behind you.”  Biting into your bottom lip, you smiled to yourself.  Right behind Mr. Giles?  What a place to be.  Giles led the young art teacher through the deepest stacks of the library, pausing once or twice to confirm that she was keeping up with him.  He was ashamed to admit that he had lost travelers a time or two as he stalked through his overstuffed shelves, knowing instinctively where to find the book he needed most. For her, watching the tweed covered bottom of Mr. Giles was no hardship.  True, he was older and tad bit reserved in the best British way, yet she had the sneaking suspicion that underneath all the wool and starched cotton was the heart of a wild man poet. "Uh... just a bit further, I'm afraid.  Books like this, well, I keep them at a greater remove." "It makes sense.  Don't want the kiddos getting a hold of anything too tantalizing." "Of course not.  As you well know, they don't need much help in the libidinous response department." You chuckled softly, nodding as the air around you grew stuffier, "Too true!  You should see what some of them turn in and call art.  It would make a blind man blush." And at the mention of blushing, you were shocked to see a rosy hue grow on Mr. Giles' cheeks.  You liked it.  It reminded you of the high color in a Vermeer painting.  You couldn’t help the flutter in your belly at the thought, "Mr. Giles, have you ever seen a South American fertility statue?" "I can't say that I have... have... have you?"  Something about the idea of you examining an ancient artifact directly connected to sexual congress made his body stir.  "Hmm... Oh, yes.  I was able to study in Mexico for a semester.  Some of the art work is just incredible and the carvings, they're truly magnificent.  Carefully made.  Usually stone or..." swallowing hard, your throat suddenly dry, "hard wood." Breaking fast at the implication in your words, Giles froze in place which caused you to press directly against his broad, vest covered back.  You had a second to register the soft scent of his aftershave; something spicy and masculine, which made your mouth water.  Moaning quietly, you offered a weak apology, “Oh, I am so sorry, Mr. Giles.” Offering you his profile, the bookcases too cramped for him to turn around fully, you saw his sweet smile, “That’s… that’s quite alright.  In fact, we’re here.” Stepping out of the way, you pushed back against the opposite wall, the shelves digging into your spine in the confined space.  Giles bent over, giving you a great view of his backside, as he extracted a slim book from the bottommost ledge.  When he stood up, directly in front of you, the narrow, book covered alcove caused him to stumble. Giles’ chest collided with your own, forcing the air out of your lungs.  Instinctively, you lifted a leg, curling it over the swell of one trousered hip and lifting the hem of your knee length plaid kilt.  Nose to nose in a compromising position, you exhaled a shaky breath as Mr. Giles inhaled, “Close quarters around here.” Shifting under his deceptively hard figure, it was difficult to ignore all the places that were firm to the touch, especially when you could feel so much through the thin barrier of your cotton panties.  Bracing one arm on the obliging shelf biting into your shoulder, Giles pushed back a bit, lifting his weight off of you without making any other attempts to move away.  He was so close now.  Close enough to feel your fuzzy sweater and all the soft skin that trembled beneath it.  Close enough to see the pound of your pulse in your throat.  Close enough that when you licked over your bottom lip Giles could almost taste it too.  And why shouldn’t he?  “Giles?”  Your voice was whisper soft, fanning hotly over the face of your colleague. “Uh… yes?” “I’m stuck.” Blinking behind his thick lenses, it took the normally quick witted Brit a second to process your words, “You’re stuck?” Nodding slowly, your hair curling over your cheek, “My… My skirt.  It’s… uh, caught.  Caught on something behind me.” “Good heavens!  I’m so sorry, let me help you.”  Slowly, Giles lowered your bare leg to the floor, his hand lingering for a second longer than absolutely necessary.  He was still in your space.  Still incredibly close to you. You arched away from the bookcase in an attempt to free yourself with a groan that sounded heady in the stuffy stacks.  All you managed to do was force your sweater covered décolletage into Giles’ chest.  Stammering, a wave of sweat breaking over his brow, “Allow me?” The way your skirt was caught pulled the bright plaid lower on your waist than you would normally consider decent.  It meant that you had a fleshy strip of skin exposed along your tummy and Giles raised his eyebrows by means of asking permission to touch you.  “Yea, yes.  Please!” Tentatively, gently, you felt the strong fingers of Rupert Giles circle your waist and shivered at the unfamiliar familiarity of his touch.  Your chin rested on his shoulder as he worked and you couldn’t help sighing when he opened his hands and pulled you closer.  Under other circumstances you might have misunderstood the embrace but you were both professionals.  Not that you hadn’t considered the handsome book guardian a time or two before. “I… I think we’re almost there.  If you’ll just, maybe to the right?” “Um, sure.”  Following his directions you twisted in his arms, trying hard not to tear your outfit or rub against Giles.  All the close contact and talk of fertility gods had you feeling a little aroused and it wouldn’t do for your colleague to learn that fact. With a triumphant grunt, Giles set you free, only for gravity to kick back in.  The momentum created by your falling took the gentleman and the entire Grollier’s Gothic Almanac collection with you.  A cascade of papers, scrolls and dust rained down on you both. Coughing, aware that you were laying on something softer than the floor, you struggled into a sitting position, swatting away clouds of disintegrated pages, “Rupert?  Are you alright?” From beneath you a rumbling grumble that sounded like, “Yes quite… you?” was heard.  It was then that you realized exactly where you were.  Straddling your friendly neighborhood librarian, surrounded by debris, but safe, all the same. “Oh my!  I’m so-” “No, No.  Please, don’t apologize.  I’ve been meaning to reorganize this section and well, now it seems I’ve got no choice.” “You’ve got a bump.  Right here…”  Just over his right eye a small bruised egg, the color of lilacs, was starting to rise and you gingerly touched the swelling spot. “Then it will match the one on the back of my head perfectly.” “Poor Giles!  All of this injury in the name of research!” “No one ever tells you the dangers one might encounter in the library.” His dry British wit sent you both into giggles and suddenly nothing could be funnier than the moment you were in with Mr. Giles.  Looking up at you, his fingertip traced over your cheek, suddenly serious, “I’m not the only one with a war wound, it appears.” “Oh?”  Your hand covered his as you realized that you had a small cut, bleeding just a little, over the apple of your jaw.  Smoothing his thumb over your injury, Giles soothed you, saying, “Hush now, I think you’ll live.”  And you watched as Giles sucked the drop of scarlet from the pad there, his green eyes on yours, daring you.  Something about it was so… sinful.  So dark.  So alluring. Then his lips were on yours, suddenly and savagely.  Hands, firm and capable, slid under the fluff of your sweater along your spine as you tangled your own in his dark hair.  Giles, drawing you near, was satisfied only when you were splayed over him, writhing between the piles of text and stacks of piled paperbacks, as his tongue plundered your mouth. Trapped by his bent knees at your bottom, Giles helped center you over the firmness of his excitement, teasing you as you moaned, “Oh, oh Rupert!” “Call me Ripper.”  Before the word had left your throat, Giles was sloppily kissing over your neck, sucking lightly on the skin revealed by the v-neck of your top.  Sitting up quickly, you lifted the soft sweater over your head, tossing it away from you without concern.  Like one of the teenagers you might chastise, you then hugged your lover tight, gasping when you felt the nip of teeth over your bra.  “Giles… Uh, Ripper!  Please, go easy?”  With a hard grip on your upper thigh and one hand on the back of your neck, Giles held you still, smirking, “If you wanted easy you shouldn’t have come looking for fertility icons, my dear little art teacher.  And if this particular article of clothing-” He paused long enough to pinch at your hardening nipple before continuing, “-is dear to you, take it off.” Clenching your abdominals at his crass language, more turned on that you could remember, you reached behind you.  Unhooking the pretty scrap of lace and satin, you shyly covered yourself, biting into your bottom lip, “Fine… Ripper.  Should I be worried for my virtue?” “Absolutely.”  Without waiting for permission, Giles pulled your arms away, exposing your bare body to his blazing gaze, “You have nothing to hide, you know?  You are-” “Just shut up and kiss me, Ripper.”  And he did. Grinding your hips into his, it was impossible to ignore his hardening manhood, even through the fabric of his pressed trousers.  Giles cupped your bottom, under your skirt but over your panties, bouncing you in place as if he was already inside of you.  For your part, you tried to unbutton his pin striped shirt, but the force of his kisses was proving too distracting. “Oh, dear!  Poor thing been kissed senseless?”  He was teasing and cruel, but in the sexiest possible way. Red cheeked and huffing, you nodded, “Yes… let me touch you!” “Tsk… you didn’t say ‘please’.” “Please!  Please, Ripper!  Oh god, please let me!” Unseating you slightly, Giles leaned up on his elbows, cocking his head to one side as he took in the mess he had made of you, “Go ahead then.  Unzip my pants.” “What?” Removing his glasses, eyeing you darkly, “You heard me, I think.” Swallowing hard, your hands shaking with excitement, you reached for Giles’ belt.  Watching him, and only him, you slowly slide the leather from it’s buckle.  When you popped the button of his pants and let your hand drag over his hardened length, Rupert groaned and tossed his head back, “Yes.  Keep going.” Slowly, agonizingly so, you lowered the zipper as you were ordered to do, “What now, Ripper?” “Take me out.  I want you to feel what you do to me.” “I can do that.”  You played it cool, but the saucy words being said in that clipped British baritone did things to you.  They made your thighs tighten, your belly flutter and your breath catch.   Trailing a hand over Giles' barely exposed hip, you moved closer to the prize, your prize, as it pulsed with need.  Wrapping your hand around the meaty girth of Rupert's member, you couldn't help stroking the silky hot skin, so vital in your palm.  That it caused the man beneath you to moan your name only added fuel to the fire of your desire. Slick and sorely wanting, you licked your lips, ready to savor the flavor of your book stacking beau but he stopped you, saying, "Last chance to run back to the studio." "No way… Ripper."  And you felt a rough jerk as your panties were removed by force, the air cool on your overheated core.  Another kiss, full of needful things, distracted you as Giles parted your lower lips with his nimble fingers. Pumping into you, once, twice, just to ensure that you were ready, Rupert swiftly stretched your center.  With your small hand guiding his shaft, you lowered yourself onto the engorged tower of his power, crying out a ragged, "Oh God!" You thought you were capable of handling any man, but the delicious spread Giles' fine form forced you to endure was more than you expected.  Clutching at his bunched up sweater vest, your back arched tautly as Rupert dragged your hips down onto his unrelenting hardness over and over.   In your head, a rhythmic, tribal tattoo that made you think of ancient fires and curved statues took hold and you rose and fell against Giles on the beats vibrating through your brain.  He sensed it too, alternating his stroke, slowing down and speeding up in time with the thrumming pulse only the pair of you could hear.  "I want you to cum for me.  Do you understand?  Tell me you understand." "Yes!  Yes!  I'm so close, Ripper!  So close!" "Good.  That's very good."  Tingling now, your muscles tensed, ready for the release Rupert would provide.  You flung yourself onto his swollen sex without thought or reason, merely searching for the pleasure he had promised.  His thumb, so thick, so clever, pressed against your sensitive clit and your world imploded. Rupert felt it.  The moment your body and his melded together was forceful.  It tore his pleasure from his loins in grunting gasps as he experienced your ecstacy at his hands. Limp and listless, you draped your half nude body over his, dazed and drained.  Who knew screwing the librarian would feel this good?  In your post coital haze you started to laugh.  Giles, his hands roaming over the sweat soaked skin of your back, heard your chuckles and joined in.  It was another release, of sorts, and you found it almost as intimate as the act you had just committed. Folding your hands under your chin, flashing Rupert a wide smile, "Ripper, huh?" Sliding his glasses back into place and carding a hand through his hair, Giles grinned, "Oh, uh… yes.  Ripper.  My nickname in London." Toying with the collar of his shirt, "I'd love to hear about London sometime… Ripper." At the sound of that name in your voice, Rupert flexed inside of you, "Call me that again and you'll miss last period." Gasping against him, nodding weakly, "Hmm… promise?" That made him smile broadly as he handed you back your sweater, "We can't have a repeat of last week, can we?" "It wasn’t my fault you didn't hear the bell ring, Mr. Giles!" Sitting up, you fastened your bra and shrugged into your sweater before asking, "Did you have to destroy my undies?" "I'm afraid I did.  Although I told you to remove anything dear, didn't I?" "What am I gonna do for the next hour, Giles?" Pushing his glasses up, "I would advise you not to bend over." Swatting at him playfully, you used one of the sturdier shelves to stand, adjusting your skirt and fluffing your hair.  Looking around at the absolute mess created by falling books, embarrassed, you asked, "Can I help clean this up?" "No, I don't think that'll be necessary.  After all, Willow will be in-" "Along with Buffy and Xander and Cordelia.  Got it." Standing himself, Giles chuckled as he fastened his trousers and set himself to rights, "Precisely.  Now-" he bent over to retrieve a slim volume, "- The book you asked about.  Fertility iconography in Meso-American subcultures." "Thanks.  Ya know, I always enjoy coming to the library.  I'm surprised more people don't." Walking with you, his hand on your lower back, nuzzling into your neck, "I enjoy you cumming in the library." It was on the tip of your tongue to say something fresh when the overly loud bell clanged.  Lifting up on tiptoes you pressed a kiss to the goose egg over Giles' eye, saying, "I hope that makes it feel better!" Snagging you into a tight hug, Giles stared into your eyes before kissing you deeply, "That.  That makes it feel better." And then the library door swung wide on the four students who called the library a second home, "Um… are my eyes deceiving me or is Giles sporting a black eye?  I was only gone for an hour, big guy, what happened?" "If you must know, Xander, a shelf collapsed in the back.  We were fortunate enough not to be badly hurt but, there were some bumps and bruises." "A shelf!  Oh no… which one?!" Giles turned to Willow solemnly, "I'm afraid all the Grollier’s… and most of Crentist." "On it.  Come on Xander.  You can help me sort!" "Aw, gee.  That sounds like fun." As the pair trotted off, you turned to Giles, whispering low, "Dinner?  My place?  You can tell me about London, your childhood and why you love tweed." Eyeing Buffy, who was distracted and a distraught, Giles answered, "Tonight?  Um…" "He'd love to!  Say 9 o'clock?  And, he'll bring the wine."

Spinning on your heel, surprised that Buffy was your champion, you grinned, "Great!  Awesome!  I will see you then."

As you left you heard the bubbly blonde doling out instructions, "No Giles.  You can't wear that outfit to dinner!  You need to look nice.  Nicer than you do now.  Also, why is there so much dust in your hair?" If Giles answered you didn’t hear it over your big yawn.  You had a lot to do between now and 9 o’clock.  Rupert Giles was coming over for dinner and you could hardly wait.

------ Fin ------- I’m tagging my minxes, even though this is specifically NOT a Loki story.  I do want you guys to send me stories that might fall under the “Hot Characters” banner though!   Minxes:   @scrumptious-finicky-illusion​ @iamverity​ @mizfit2​ @sammy-jo1977​ @wolfsmom1​ @jessiejunebug​ @iluvsumbucky​ @unadulteratedwizardlove @procrastinatinglikeabitch @shxdowofdarkness​ @nonsensicalobsessions​ @ahintofkiwistrawberry​ @alexakeyloveloki​ @rorybutnotgilmore​ @crystalizedcaramel​ @lokislittlecorner​ @capcapcapsicle @jamielea81​ @caffiend-queen​​ @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​​ @jenjen8675309​​ @that-one-person​​ @roguewraith​​ @toomanystoriessolittletime​ @vodka-and-some-sass​ @just-random-obsessions​ @brokenthelovely​ @lots-of-loki​ @thefallenbibliophilequote​

[mandoalorian]

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] - Nine: Peace

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person’s relationship with his son. You’ve heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You’ve felt his pain and anguish and you’ve never been able to relate to anything more. But things don’t come easy for you, and they certainly don’t come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mention of child neglect and abuse

Word count: 3300>

Masterlist 

Previous - Chapter Nine - Next [coming soon!]

It was a long walk back to the holiday resort, just you and Maxwell. Your mind wandered off with worry about Diana. You knew she was strong enough to handle her own, but there was clearly something very personal between her and Barbara, and you knew better than anyone else how easy it was to let your feelings get in the way of your goals. You and Maxwell held hands the entire journey, although neither of you spoke that much. There was still a lot going on. Yes, you had destroyed the dreamstone, the God of Lies was no more, but you still had to fight for Alistair. You still had to win this custody battle. The war wasn’t over yet. Maxwell hadn’t stopped thinking about it either. Since arriving in Greece, you’d hardly spoken about the case and it left him wondering what exactly your plan was. He was resting his fate with his son on you. No lawyers… just an Amazonian goddess who swore her duty is to bring together families. He had no reason not to trust you, but this was a big deal so of course he was worried.

And of course there was one thought you both had in common. It wasn’t as much of a concern, but neither of you felt like you could bring it up yet. You had destroyed the dreamstone using the power of love. Your love. The love you had for each other. Maxwell didn’t know what it meant to love someone romantically until he met you. He thought he loved Julianna, but that was short lived. He always saw himself as someone undeserving of those feelings. But now he was certain. Maxwell Lord was completely and utterly in love with you.

By the time you’d reached the quaint little village you were staying in, your stomach rumbled. Maxwell paused and looked at you before bursting into laughter. You felt your cheeks heat up and you placed a hand over your stomach, slightly embarrassed.

“Hungry?” he laughed and you nodded sheepishly. “Why don’t we- uh- get dinner?” he suggested with a casual but nervous shrug of his shoulders.

You smiled. “Dinner sounds good.”

Maxwell nodded his head and led you down a cobblestone path. At the end of the long path, was the hotel resort, but along the way was plenty of quaint little shops, boutiques, and restaurants serving native cuisine. It must have been around nine at night, so the other shops were shut, but the restaurants were lit up beautifully with golden string lights, and on every street corner was musicians singing and playing instruments.

You were in awe. You broke free of Maxwell’s grip and wandered over to one man who was playing the violin. It was soft and romantic. You got close to him, probably too close, but Maxwell found it endearing. He loved to watch you take in all these new experiences. 

“You didn’t have music on Themyscira?” he asked, pressing a hand into the small of your back. His touch combined with the melody of the violin was enough to take your breath away.

“No,” you replied quietly as you let yourself fall deep into the song. When the man finished, Maxwell took out his wallet and made a generous donation. “You should be very proud of yourself. You have a gift.” you smiled- and the man blushed at your comment.

Maxwell was taken aback when you and the Greek street musician held a conversation in his native language. Of course - Amazon’s were multilingual. He remembered you mentioned it before. You knew every single language. But still, it never failed to impress him. Everything you did, every action and gesture you made had Maxwell fall head over heels for you.

You both carried on walking for just five more minutes, until Maxwell decided on a suitable restaurant. You’d settle for anything, but Maxwell had a specific taste. As it turned out, Maxwell Lord was even known in Greece, and the restaurant manager was able to pull a few strings to get you both a table without reservations.

“Do you know what you want?” Maxwell asked, peeking over the menu. You took a sip of water and shook your head ‘no’.

“How do I know what tastes good?” you asked.

“You can’t really go wrong with Greek food. In my experience it’s all good.” Maxwell explained, puting the menu flat on the table and waving over a waiter.

You pointed at a couple on a nearby table. “They’re sharing,” you acknowledged. “Why?”

You and Maxwell both watched the man and woman as they fed each other moussaka, laughing and smiling and planting intimate kisses on each other’s hands. “They’re a couple.” Maxwell hummed, wondering what it would be like to share food with you.

Too distracted in his own thoughts, Maxwell didn’t even realise you had already placed your order with the waiter. “We’ll have exactly what they’re having.” you beamed, pointing towards the couple.

Maxwell blinked and turned to you. 

“And drinks?” the waiter asked.

“Same as them!” you repeated and Maxwell’s head snapped towards the table. Actually, a pink berry iced cocktail didn’t sound at all that bad. It made a difference from his usual champagne or dry whiskey. Before Maxwell could even object, the waiter was already whisked away to bring your order to the kitchen.

“You’re getting really good at this world of man stuff.” Maxwell told you proudly, taking your hands and brushing his thumb over your knuckles.

“I feel like I’m settling in,” you admitted with a nervous smile. “I always felt like an outcast on Themyscira. Like I just… didn’t belong there. I was never a warrior like the other Amazons.” you explained and Maxwell nodded in understanding.

“It’s a shame you can’t stay here.” Maxwell swallowed and looked past you. His eyes fixated on another happy couple, and the truth finally began to settle in his stomach.

In just a few days, the love of his life was going to leave him, and he’d never see you again. Being with Maxwell in a Greek restaurant amongst the other happy couples left you feeling upset too. It made you wonder: did you really want to leave? Did you even have a choice?

Diana had told you that the world of man could not handle a goddess just walking around living a normal life. Your powerful aura would slowly cause destruction and chaos. Even death. You’d read plenty of romance novels to know that there would always be heartbreak. And maybe this would be yours.

“Your moussaka and cocktails.” The waiter grinned, presenting you both with the food on a silver antique platter. You both thanked the man and picked up your forks. In unison, you both dug into the meal and fed it to each other, just like you’d witnessed before. There ended up being a lot of laughter and hysterics as food missed your mouth or it dropped down Maxwell’s shirt making a mess.

You both knew that the inevitable was coming, but that didn’t mean you had to wish away your days together. You were fully prepared to make as many memories as possible with Maxwell and enjoy your night together in Athens.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Maxwell asked as you walked back to the hotel room.

“Worried about Diana.” you mumbled.

“Yeah uh- I’ve been thinking about Barbara,” Maxwell revealed, and you looked at him in confusion. You remembered the flirtations he made towards her in the cave, or rather, the manipulative techniques. “I owe her an apology. But I can’t apologise until she renounces her wish. I failed her.”

You gulped and squeezed the businessman’s hand. “Even if I’m not here, I believe that there will be a redemption. She will renounce her wish.”

“How do you know?” Maxwell quizzed you. “I just do,” you hummed. “She’s not a bad person. She’s just a person… who’s done bad things. But we’ve all done bad things before, haven’t we?”

Maxwell nodded before smiling. “I can’t imagine you doing anything bad.” he chuckled lightly.

“I try not to,” you shrugged. “But nobody is without flaw.”

Once you reached the hotel lobby, the receptionist called Maxwell over.

“Mr Lord, you have a phone call on line 3.” she said, pointing her finger towards the phone booth. Maxwell nodded before turning to you and pressing a chaste kiss on your cheek. 

“Let me take this call. Meet me in the hotel room.” he told you, passing you the key. You obliged, padding towards the elevator.

Maxwell walked over to the ringing telephone and took a deep breath. He wondered who could possibly be calling him from Athens?

“Hello?”

"Hi daddy. I miss you." Alistair's small and timid voice revealed. His little fingers curled around the telephone wire as he tried to keep his balance, standing on a stool so he could actually reach the telephone that was pinned to the dining room wall. Maxwell's face softened upon realising it was his son who had been trying to communicate with him.

"I miss you too, but I'll be home soon. Is everything okay?" he asked Alistair with genuine concern. He was at Theodore and Julianna’s house and they never let him contact Maxwell. It was forbidden.

"No. Mommy and Ted went out together and they've left me in the house alone. They've been gone for hours. Daddy I'm scared." Alistair sniffed, rubbing his tired, glazed eyes.

Maxwell immediately saw red. He knew Julianna was neglectful, if anything she had always been even more neglectful than Max. But the fact there was an ongoing custody battle and his competition had left their six year old boy home alone was infuriating.

“Where did they go?” Maxwell asked.

“Date night.” Alistair replied shakily.

“Listen buddy, I’m going to call Raquel and have her take you to Black Gold okay? Me and Y/N are heading to the airport now so we’ll see you as soon as we possibly can. I love you Ali. Stay strong for me. Can you do that? Can you stay strong for me?”

Alistair nodded weakly. “Why does everyone always leave me daddy?” Alistair croaked and Maxwell’s heart broke because he knew he was partially to blame for it too. He hadn’t been a perfect father but he sure as hell was trying to make amends now, which was more than what Julianna could say.

“Because they are not deserving of you Ali, you are too good for this world. I mean it. Go to your room okay, and Raquel won’t be long. I love you.” Maxwell promised.

“I love you daddy.” Alistair sniffed before putting the phone back on the hook.

***

Maxwell had been downstairs on the phone for quite a while. You had kicked off your shoes and discarded most of your outfit on the floor. You were lying on the king sized bed staring at the ceiling. All you could think about was Diana and Barbara. You had to make sure Diana was okay. She was your sister, after all.

The door swung open causing you to jump up in surprise, and Maxwell bolted into the room before doubling over trying to catch his breath. “Elevator was taking too long. I ran up the stairs. We have to go.” he panted, clutching his chest for dear life.

“Max? What’s wrong?” you asked, climbing off the bed and walking over to him. You placed both your hands on his shoulders and tried to calm him down.

“It was Alistair. He needs us.” Maxwell said, fear flicking in his eyes.

“Say no more,” you told him, finally feeling your duty as goddess of home and hearth kick in. A child in need of his father? This was your time to shine. “You pack our stuff. I’m going to try to call Diana and let her know that we’re leaving earlier than planned.”

Maxwell nodded as he started to gather together your things, throwing them haphazardly into the bags. To your surprise, Diana answered the phone after the first few rings.

“Di! Oh Gods, I was so worried about you.” You confessed, taking a big sigh of relief.

“You need not be worried,” Diana chastised you. “I’m okay. I had some trouble with Barbara but nothing I can’t handle.”

“Did she renounce her wish?” You asked.

“No,” Diana replied, her voice small. She was struggling to hold back tears. Barbara meant so much to Diana, she could not fail this one thing. She had to redeem her best friend. “But she will. I’ll make sure of it. Why did you call?”

“It’s Max’s son… something came up and… we’re flying back to D.C. tonight.” you told Diana, glancing briefly into the en-suite bathroom where Maxwell was collecting your toothbrushes and toiletries. 

“When’s the court case?” Diana questioned.

“Two days.” you informed her, feeling a little weak in the knees. It was so soon and you hadn’t even discussed a plan with Maxwell. 

“Remember sister, once this is all over you must return to Themyscira. Earlier, when the cave walls began to crumble… I realised that was because of you. You’ve already overstayed your welcome. I’m afraid the world of man’s destruction has already begun.” You had caused the cave walls to crumble? The ground to split? You were mortified. But if this was only the start… you weren’t prepared to know what was to come.

“I know.” you whispered sadly, feeling a tear slip down your cheek.

“I’ll see you back in D.C.,” Diana promised. “Good luck.”

And with that, there was a deadline. 

“Everything okay with Diana?” Maxwell called from the bathroom.

You choked out an involuntary sob just hearing Maxwell’s voice again. How would you ever be able to live knowing you could never hear another word he spoke? His voice was more beautiful than any violin or song on the car radio. You didn’t want to go. You didn’t want to go back to Themyscira. When you didn’t reply, he called your name.

“Yes, everything is fine!” you called back, doing your best to hold back your whimpers. Maxwell didn’t need to see you like this, it would only concern him. You wiped your tears away and began to pick up your previously discarded outfit, re-dressing yourself. 

Diana might have said goodbye to Steve, but there was no way you could say goodbye to Max.

***

The flight back to D.C. was uncomfortably long and you could cut the tension with a knife. “Max, he’ll be okay. He’s with Raquel.” you reminded him.

“He doesn’t deserve this,” Maxwell shook his head in dismay. “I can’t believe my son is having to put up with this bullshit.” he spat angrily.

You hadn’t seen this side to Maxwell before. Sure you’d seen him get mad and give you the silent treatment, but now he was being so vocal. He was vocal because he could be. He had been in Alistair’s shoes before. Neglectful parents who didn’t give a shit about him.

“My dad was never home,” Max swallowed, tears pricking his eyes. “And when he was, he was drunk. My mum was sick. She slept a lot. I didn’t have friends growing up. I was alone and bullied…” part of this you already knew from when the lasso of truth had shown you little Maxwell Lorenzano’s childhood, but still, you chose to keep quiet and listen to what you had to say. “I never planned on having kids but when Alistair was born I swore I would be a good father. I wouldn’t end up like my old man. But without even realising… I did. I neglected my son. I was always working. Too busy for him. I-” Maxwell held his face in his hands as shame consumed him.

“You are nothing like your father,” you promised Max, grabbing his wrists and pulling them away from his face. “Listen to me. Alistair loves you. And you love him. He called you because you’re his dad. His hero. You made mistakes in the past but we all do. Point is, you’re choosing to fix it. You’re choosing to change and that makes you one thousand times better than what your own dad ever was. Alistair sees the good in you,” you whispered. “And I do too.”

***

By the time you arrived back in D.C, it was nightfall. The sky was pitch black and Maxwell was readjusting his watch to fit the EST timezone. Upon your approach to Black Gold Cooperative, you noticed from looking in the windows that most of the lights had been turned out, bar the main lobby and Maxwell’s private office. Max was the first to enter, pushing through the revolving doors and bolting through the building, up the stairs and to his private office. You followed him, but let yourself drop behind just a little as you thought about the fact this might be your last time in this building. It was this exact lobby where you had met Maxwell Lord for the first time, sleeping on that sofa in your full Amazonian gear. It was only a week ago and yet it felt like a lifetime.

“Alistair! Alistair!” Maxwell called. He barged into his office only to see his son, curled up on his chair, asleep. Raquel was laying on the sofa, fast asleep also. It was late and Max didn’t blame her whatsoever. As long as Alistair was safe, that’s all that mattered. “Hey buddy, hey.” he cooed, picking his son up in his arms. Alistair stirred slightly and opened his eyes.

“Daddy?” he asked, his question followed by a yawn. He brought his fist up to his face and rubbed at his tired eyes. “You came back?”

“Of course I did,” Maxwell whispered, smoothing out Alistair’s black hair and pressing a kiss into his son’s forehead. “I’ll always come back for you Ali. I missed you.”

“I love you daddy.” Alistair sniffed, bringing his hand up to cup Maxwell’s face.

“I’m going to take you home, okay? Better sleeping in your own bed than in daddy’s office chair. Trust me, I know.” Maxwell said, remembering the ample amount of times he had fallen asleep at work, amidst an abundance of paperwork.

“Let me take Ali,” you whispered, nudging Maxwell and holding out your arms. “You should wake up Raquel and let her know you’re back.”

Maxwell nodded his head in agreement and handed you his son. Max was strong, but holding a six year old in his middle age did nothing for his bad back. When he passed you Alistair, part of him expected your shoulders to curl inwards or for you to struggle to lift him. Then he remembered you were an Amazon, and he smiled to himself upon seeing the way you cradled his son like he was as light as a feather. There was something so wonderful about seeing you hold Alistair like he was your own child. Ali looked at you with so much love. Just like his father, he’d only just met you, but he had put his whole trust in you - like his life depended on it.

“How was Greece?” Alistair asked you.

“Was good,” you smiled. “I brought you back a present.”

Alistair’s tired smile grew into an ecstatic grin. “A present?!”

“Yes,” you giggled, pinching his adorable little button nose. “But I’ll give you it tomorrow when you wake up. How does that sound?”

Alistair nodded his head and closed his eyes again, before nuzzling his head into your chest. “Thank you for being so kind to my daddy. He doesn’t realise it, but he’s been through a lot, and he deserves kindness.” Alistair hummed quietly, and you felt like your heart had melted right then and there. Before you could reply, Alistair had fallen back asleep in your arms.

It was that precise moment when you realised how important family was to you. It was that moment when you realised that maybe you wanted a family of your own.

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[voidstilesplease]

there you are, and I run

pairing: stiles/theo | rating: M | word count: approx. 5,500 (chapter 5) | tags: Hogwarts AU, Triwizard Tournament, Slytherin!Stiles, Durmstrang!Theo, Magic, Witches and Wizards | warning: sexual content (chapter 5)

summary: The Room Where It Happened of Requirement. That's all.

chapter 5/ Read on AO3

---

January 10th – 15 days after the Yule Ball; a month and two weeks before the Second Task

“ In ancient Greek mythology ,” Allison started with a little frown, reading from the tome that Stiles had handed to her as soon as the Slytherin got her alone in an empty classroom. “ – a Siren is a hybrid creature with the body of a bird and the head of a human .” It hadn’t been as easy as Stiles thought, convincing Allison to come with him, which was, really, kind of insulting and maybe a bit gratifying, too (actually, plenty gratifying). She’d warily observed each turn they made even as she focused on Stiles, reading his body movements for any potential assault. Her body was tense the entire trip, arms rigid at the sides, ready to slide her wand out of her sleeve should the need to defend herself arose. If Stiles were Theo, he would understand the suspicion – he would be, too. But what did Allison think Stiles would do to her, seriously ? “ Sirens are dangerous creatures who live on rocky islands and lure sailors to their doom with their sweet song –“ Allison cut off, dropping the book to her lap and raising an exasperated look at Stiles. “Stiles, will you just tell me the point of this?”

Stiles huffed, pushing his back from the door to walk closer. “You French school people are so snooty and impatient.” He muttered as he hopped and situated himself on top of the teacher’s desk, shaking his head lightly. Allison rolled her eyes, mouth twitching a little at the comment, but continued staring pointedly. Stiles exhaled in defeat. “Sirens,” he said, at last, pausing a little. “That’s the next task.”

Allison’s brows furrowed, “Sirens?”

Stiles nodded, reaching inside his pocket for the wing locket – the clue he’d won during the First Task. He showed it to Allison, “I’ve cracked the clue,” he paused, considered it, and amended his statement with a little exhale, “Actually, we’ve cracked the clue – Theo and me.”

The Beauxbatons girl raised both eyebrows at that, looking more skeptical by the second.

“Something about the rune positions, apparently,” Stiles offered in explanation, gesturing at said runes on the locket. “He translated them. And that led to me thinking about the Mirror of Erised at the Room of Requirement . We went there, and the mirror showed me the next task – Sirens.” He crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes a little. “You have heard about both the Mirror of Erised and the Room of Requirement , right?”

Allison bit her lip a little hesitantly, but she nodded. “Lydia has told me about them.”

Stiles knew that. Lydia had mentioned that she had indeed shared to Allison the wonderful mysteries of Hogwarts in exchange for the wonderful mysteries of Beauxbatons. An academic trade was what Lydia called it. She had even suggested that Stiles could use Theo’s inclination for mouthy Slytherin wizards to collect intelligence about Durmstrang and the dark arts. After all, if any school had more mystery than the others, it was Durmstrang Institute. A school that wasn’t on any magical map? Sounds exactly like something right up Lydia and Stiles’s alley indeed. But he had immediately shut her off. Although, if Stiles squinted really hard, he would find he was already doing that, wasn’t he? Not deliberately, no, but all the same. Being around Theo so much, he had already amassed lots about his life in Durmstrang – the rough training they go through, all the commonplace near-death experiences, the impossible expectations sitting in their shoulders, never trusting anyone not to smother you in your sleep. Fun stuff. He had even demonstrated dark magic right in front of Stiles.

“ The Mirror of Erised is a magical mirror that shows the deepest, most desperate desires of the heart.” Allison recited as if repeating the exact words that Lydia had told her. “And the Room of Requirement is a secret room within Hogwarts Castle that only appears when a person is in great need of it.”

“Five points for Beauxbatons.”

Allison rolled her eyes good-naturedly. At least she wasn’t regarding him like a snake about to eat her anymore.

Stiles smiled at her before continuing. “Anyway, that’s how we decoded the clue. We’ve been reading about it for the past two weeks.”

There was a thoughtful look on her face as she silently pondered on the information she was given. Finally, after a long moment, she lifted her eyes and nodded to herself, closing the tome and putting it on the desk before her. “Okay, but why are you telling me?” Allison asked, crossing her arms and raising a questioning brow.

Stiles shrugged. “It seems only fair,” he replied honestly, fastening the locket around his neck. He gave it a soft pat afterward. “Theo knows, I know, so you should, too. Sirens are dangerous creatures.”

“Do you really believe that they are in possession of a live Siren?” Allison gestured at the book. “I know a little about these creatures; we studied them at Beauxbatons, too. They’re truly more mythical than real now, Stiles.”

Stiles nodded in agreement, “And the closest kin we can associate to them are the merfolks, which are very much real .”

“So, the merfolks could be the actual next task?”

Stiles shrugged again, “They’re part of the next task. The last Triwizard tournament coordinated with them for one of the tasks, after all. They could do it again.”

Allison lowered her eyes in thought.

“Look,” Stiles hopped down the desk to stand directly in front of the girl. When she looked up, nibbling on her lower lip, he continued. “I’m not asking you to trust me. I just want you to know, that’s all.”

Allison hummed, giving Stiles a speculative look. Slowly, the slight frown on her lips formed into a smile. “So,” she straightened up, tone light and playful now. “What else did you and the Durmstrang boy do in the Room of Requirement?”

Instantly, Stiles felt his cheeks getting warm. He snatched the book from the table and rushed to say, “ Nothing .”

***

Nothing that he was insane to share with Allison, or anyone else, for that matter.

It had been almost 3 in the morning when the pair of them arrived at the seventh-floor corridor where the door to the Room of Requirement was located. It was harder to escape from pissed Malia and Erica than sober Malia and Erica, apparently. And there was Jackson, completely off his trolley, who attempted the jelly-leg jinx on Theo and backfired tremendously because the tosser had pointed the business end of his wand on himself. They were hollering and hauling Jackson’s body to the sleeping quarters by the time they exited the Slytherin Common Room.

They stopped by a familiar expanse of wall. Theo was the first to break the silence. “Last time we were here, we had an unfinished business.”

Stiles’s lips thinned to a line. He did not want to think about the last time they were there. Especially not after the heated events of the past hour. Stiles was sure that had Jackson not been his usual wanker self, they would have been kissing, tongue and all, right there in the Slytherin Common Room for everyone’s viewing. Or, if they had not been distracted by the wing locket, they would have been horizontal on the bed now, frotting against each other, and Stiles would have lost the challenge – proven to Theo that he had not an ounce of control when it came to him. But they were not there for that . They were on official Triwizard champion duty.

“Last time we were here,” Stiles gritted out, facing away from Theo to hide his inflamed cheeks. “You made up my mind to put my name into the Goblet of Fire.”

Theo scoffed, looking put out, stepping closer so he could confront the side of Stiles’s face. “I told you the exact opposite of that.”

Stiles still refused to look at him directly, choosing to side-eye the Durmstrang boy. “Which is why I did the exact opposite of what you told me.”

There was a brief pause from the other boy before he scoffed again, utterly disbelieving. “You’re so contrary .”

This time, Stiles looked up to meet his eyes in the dimness of the corridor. With a tiny upward tug on the corner of his lips, he repeated Theo’s words from earlier. “It’s part of my charm, though, right?”

Theo did not answer with words. Instead, his eyes fell on Stiles’s lips once more and remaining there until the door to the Room of Requirement appeared.

They both know the answer to their question.

***

When they entered the room, it was like they opened a portal into a dimension filled with all kinds of objects you can think of: broken and functioning, ancient and modern, small and gargantuan, ordinary and dangerous. But the powerful magic surrounding the room, converging from all of the objects it held, even the defectives, was unmissable. It shrouded them like an invisible cloak the moment they entered – as if the very air they breathed was magic. It was very different from the first time they had been there together. Then, there was only a king-sized four-poster bed in the middle of a spacious but otherwise empty room. When Stiles went before that, it was the same, except the bed was sometimes a table and a chair or a cozy settee beside a crackling fire. Now, it was a whole dumpster site of magical items.

There was a wood dresser on the left side overflowing with golden trinkets; hundreds of piles of tomes and parchments; several instruments littered about, including a grand piano with a missing leg, a cello with broken strings, and a rusty harp that was playing music by itself. On their right were potteries in various sizes and shapes and artwork, brimming with sparkling gemstones; a whole cupboard of old broomsticks and random pieces of broken furniture. Even the ceiling had many embellishments hanging up like dozens of old, flickering chandeliers, levitating lamps, and even a lonely, single, time-worn shoe. It was impossible to find anything there – especially something you'd not seen in your life. But the Mirror of Erised was there somewhere, and they had to try. If only Stiles knew a summoning spell that would not call the furniture to crush Theo and him to mangled bones and flesh…

“How are we going to find the mirror?” Theo spoke behind Stiles, gaze wandering the vastness of the room. “This place probably has hundreds of them.”

“The Mirror of Erised is only one,” Stiles responded with more confidence than he actually felt. But he had enough. He already had a mental list of spells they could try. “We’ll find it eventually.”

“Yeah, in a decade, give or take.”

Pursing his lips in annoyance, Stiles turned to Theo. “You can turn back, you know? I’d still tell you the clue.”

“And leave you here alone?” Theo gave him a dry look as if Stiles was daft for even suggesting it. “Yeah, fat chance, babe.”

Stiles sneered at the endearment, but Theo ignored him and walked ahead of Stiles, procuring his wand in his hand. “If you get trapped in here, there are many witnesses that knew I came with you.” Halting in his steps, he wrinkled his nose at Stiles. “I’d rather not be the primary suspect for kidnapping you.”

Stiles snorted, “So you’d rather get stuck?”

“With you,” Theo added smoothly, smiling widely because he knew exactly what that did to Stiles. “That’s the vital bit.”

Stiles wanted to retort with something witty; he was usually good at that. But he wasn’t as sober as he thought he was, it appeared. His brain was still muddled, and Theo was a pretty strong toxin.

Shushing the traitorous uptick in his heartbeat, Stiles rolled his eyes and exhaled a long-suffering sigh. It was not the time.

Pretending he was less affected than he actually was, he took his wand from his pocket and muttered the first spell on his list – an advanced magical-signature tracking spell. Ignoring the wide grin still plastered on Theo’s face, he pushed past the git and barraged deeper into the sea of artefacts without looking back if Theo followed. Of course, he followed. He followed because he was infuriatingly dedicated like that. Dedicated on driving Stiles to the brink.

And Stiles was not far behind.

***

They found the mirror quicker than they expected, which made sense to Stiles because they did seek the help of the Room of Requirement to find it specifically . So, more than likely, the room had opened to the exact section where the Mirror of Erised was nearest. It wasn’t Stiles’s tracking spell that found it, though – not conclusively – but Theo.

Stiles was still walking ahead of the Durmstrang boy, resolutely keeping his distance, as he followed the tug of his magic and checked side-by-side, up-and-down thoroughly, trying his damnest not to pause and gawk at every single fascinating thing he came across. He unveiled every looking glass they passed by, running his tracer magic on each one, hoping to catch a unique signature that would identify the artifact as old, rare, and extremely powerful – anything that would separate it from the other magic in the surrounding. The spell had drawbacks, of course, Stiles recognized that. The room probably had thousands of old, rare, and powerful artefacts (most might even be older than the mirror they came for) – it wouldn’t necessarily isolate the Mirror of Erised from everything with similar magical signatures.

He contemplated switching to the next spell on his list when he heard Theo speak.

“Do you see that?”

Stiles drew away from the set of portraits he accidentally uncovered – everyone in it grumbling and cussing Stiles for disturbing their slumber. Stiles quickly draped the cloth back over them – to look at Theo.

The Durmstrang boy was looking onward, a little farther from where they stood, and Stiles followed his line of sight. All he saw was a darker pathway with more antique broken objects.

“What?”

Theo pointed, “That,” he muttered, walking towards whatever it was that he saw.

Curious, Stiles tailed closely.

Theo had stopped in front of a huge ornate mirror with a gold frame. Stiles inched nearer and almost jumped in glee upon reading the inscription around it: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi . Unbelievable. It was there; they had found it! A quick tempus charm would confirm that they had only begun searching less than twenty minutes ago. And it was now in their presence!

Stiles grinned, turning to his companion. “This is it! The Mirror of Erised .”

But Theo only stared at the mirror, brows furrowed in deep concentration. Stiles could only see Theo watching his reflection. But from the way his eyes moved around, his face flickering with different emotions (more than he ever saw Theo wear), Stiles quickly realized that the mirror was serving its purpose – showing people their desires. Stiles wondered silently, what could Theo be seeing ? What does someone like him desire the most ? More wealth? Prestige? More possession of the Dark Arts? Does Theo desire something mundane and vague as love and happiness? If so, what scene does he see himself in that includes being in love and happy? Around a family of his own, maybe? A wife, their two-and-a-half children, in a country manor with a vast field of green dragon berry trees?

Stiles broke from his stupor when the Durmstrang boy stepped away from the mirror, eyes alight in awe and trepidation. Then, softly, he chuckled without humor. “This mirror is cursed.”

Stiles glanced at him questioningly. “Because it shows you what you want?”

Theo turned to him, face set in a hard expression. He almost looked pained. “Because it shows you what you want that you evidently can’t have.”

Their eyes met, and Stiles saw the yearning and defeat in Theo’s. It was probably the most earnest he’d ever seen Theo. Something had truly rattled him. What did he see ? He thought again. What did the mirror show him that he – who, on the face of it, has everything – desires so much because he believes he can’t have it ?

Stiles shook his head and replied, “You don't know that,” He pressed on even as Theo scoffed. “If you want something enough, Theo, you devise means to achieve it.”

“Even at the expense of everything else?” Theo challenged.

“Yeah!” Stiles cried out. “Who said ambitions were always smart?”

There was a moment’s pause following Stiles’s statement before Theo lowered his eyes. Stiles wanted to say something sarcastic to break the ice – he wasn’t used to Theo like this – but he didn’t think it would be helpful at the moment. When it became apparent that Theo wasn’t going to say anything more, Stiles decided to take his previous position and face the Mirror of Erised as they came to do. Anyway, if Theo allowed it, they could talk about… feelings , after. Although Stiles reckoned Theo would probably pretend this moment of vulnerability didn’t happen once they were out in the real world, he was oddly hopeful. Because it actually felt nice, even if he would never admit it out loud, to be the only one to see Theo this way. At least, he thought he was the only one.

Stiles internally sighed and shook his head. Emotions were so weird . He was never not conflicted having them – too many and too foreign and always in-between.

He cleared his throat and stood before the mirror, forcing his mind to clear. He heard Theo shuffle behind him but otherwise remained silent, watching Stiles as Stiles had done with him earlier.

Stiles swallowed, taking a deep breath, and barred any other thoughts in his mind apart from one – his longing to win the Triwizard tournament. His victory during the First Task ignited it fully; he wasn’t just in it for the thrill – he wanted the galleons, the look of awe and jealousy directed to him, the pride, the fame, the glory. He wanted to emerge victorious on the other side. And he was going to get that if he knew how to arm himself for the Second Task. He would know how to arm himself if the mirror showed him what he would need to arm himself against. The mirror could show him.

He repeated it inside his head like an incantation.

Soon enough, his reflection started distorting, forming vague shapes like images through water, until it became a vision of him brandishing the Triwizard Cup in the air as fireworks of silver and green erupted in the sky. It was quick, but it brought the biggest grin on his face, then the mirror cleared once more. He was about to think “ that’s it ?” when the wing locket around his neck began unfurling. Stiles’s eyes widen, and his hand immediately flew to the jewelry. When he looked down, however, it was still the same: a pair of wings enclosed together, cold on his skin.

He looked up to the mirror, but his reflection was holding an opened locket. Stiles gaped in astonishment.

“Do you see anything?” Theo asked, stepping forward.

Stiles nodded, eyes still fixed on the figure inside the mirror.

Faintly, the runes glowed, and so did the encryptions that Theo’s spell created on the locket. Listen to the desire of the heart . Belatedly, Stiles thought that the opened locket now resembled a heart, actually. Then slowly, Stiles’s reflection raised the unfurled locket to his ear and held it there. Confused, Stiles mimicked and brought the golden wings to his hear.

Merlin’s fruit basket , Stiles swore, but he could hear whispers from within the locket! Listen to the desire of the heart – Stiles wanted to laugh out loud because that was almost too literal, wasn’t it? Excitedly, he pressed the locket more firmly to his ear, but the melodious whispers, almost as if singing to him, stayed garbled and incomprehensible. He started getting pissed after a moment – he, unfortunately, didn’t speak nonsense – until he caught on to a specific word: Seirḗn .

A Siren.

***

“The next task is a Siren ?” Theo asked dubiously, as they were tracing back to the exit.

“It makes sense, actually,” Stiles replied, glancing sideways at Theo, and his mind wandering to each clue, making sense of them now. “First, this is a wing locket. Sirens are depicted as half-woman half-bird hybrids. Then, when the wings open, it forms into the shape of a heart. The rune on the locket says: ‘ listen to the desire of the heart ’. And sirens are mythical creatures known to sing the yearnings of a person to lure them to their death.” Theo nodded along to his points, brows drawn together in musing. “And now this .” Stiles opened his palm to reveal a small, white object.

Right after Stiles heard his final and most concrete clue, the Mirror of Erised returned to being a simple looking glass, and the wing locket in Stiles’s hand pried open unprompted. A white object fell from the locket and into Stiles’s curious hand.

Theo looked down at it, wrinkling nose. “What’s that?”

“Wax.”

“ Wax ?”

“For noise-canceling,” Stiles explained, giving Theo a dull look. “It was what ancient Greeks used to survive a Siren’s song. You should know it since you apparently read Greek literature.”

Theo returned the look with a mild glare. “I know about that . It's why I also know that a tiny glob of it won’t do any good. It doesn’t even look like there’s enough for one ear.”

“I can make additional, Theo,” Stiles answered, already mentally listing ingredients he thought would be needed. “But obviously, it’ll take time. Thank Merlin, we have over a month to get ready. And we also have to read more about Sirens.”

“Hurray.”

They fell into silence, Stiles drawing a plan inside his head and Theo wordlessly walking beside him. He was more or less back to classic Theo – Stiles was convinced that the brief moment they shared would be pushed down to forgotten lane – and though a part of him was disappointed, it might be for the best. If Stiles were hard-pressed on not crossing the line, then confiding weaknesses should be out of the trade. This tension between them was frustrating, but it was safe. Safe was okay. Safe was preferable.

Suddenly, he found himself being shoved to a wall. He was too surprised and tired – it was past three in the morning – to react quickly. He grunted softly, but the impact hardly hurt. One of Theo’s hands cushioned his head protectively, and he only stared wide-eyed as Theo pushed closer and caged Stiles between a random wall and his body. His really hot body – Merlin, he was a furnace. He knew the Durmstrang delegates could create sparks with the tip of their magic canes, but Theo could make fire . Stiles saw it – many, many times after the Welcome Feast. Theo was always eager to demonstrate. He enjoyed watching Stiles’s open-mouthed response and the way his eyes would glaze over. Theo was always burning, and Stiles would have complained if only the burn didn’t feel perfect.

He only hoped he wasn’t leaning against temperamental portraits who cursed in seven languages because then, it wouldn’t be as perfect.

“What are you doing?” He hissed, but his hands grappled on both sides of Theo’s waist, the wax still clutched in one.

Theo’s other hand curled around Stiles’s neck and started playing with the tips of his hair. His eyes locked on Stiles. “You said that if I wanted something enough, I would have to make ways to get it.”

Stiles’s pulse quickened. “Your heart’s greatest desire isn’t seriously to have sex with me.” He tried to sound jeering, but he had turned into a gasping mess. One of Theo’s knees had parted his legs and pressed their lower halves together.

“No,” Theo’s hot breath fanned across Stiles’s face, his calloused thumb caressing Stiles’s jaw, and his voice dropped to a whisper. “But I want you badly, nonetheless.”

--------

hello! I've reached the maximum limit for a long post, apparently (didn't know there was one!), so I had to cut the scene. Sorry. If you wanna continue reading, it's on AO3! If not, thank you for still reaching this part!

Byeee 🖤

[towerfandoms]

3AM Encounters

A/n: I feel like everyone uses that title but oh well I’m uncreative when it comes to titles. I’ve been simping a LOT for Shinsou recently so here enjoy this <33 and ik requests are off but for Shinsou I make exceptions ✨✨✨

Summary: Shinsou had trouble falling asleep and was laying in bed, counting as the hours passed by. That is, until he heard footsteps outside

Pairings: Shinsou Hitoshi x reader

Word Count: 2.4k

Warnings: none just fluff

Despite the many times Shinsou had laid awake at 3am, he still could never quite get used to the eerie silence. It was times like this when he truly understood the phrase “deafening silence”. The quietness felt too loud. The nothingness made him feel uneasy. During the day, he despised hearing the loud screeches of jumpy teenagers but now, he almost misses it. He could hear just about every little thing, the slight gust of wind from outside his open window, the creaking of his bed every time he shifted to get comfier and the footsteps outside.

Wait,,, outside?

Shinsou grabbed his phone from his bedside table and squinted at the screen, the harsh light illuminating his room. It was 3:15AM. Trying to make as little noise as possible as to not draw attention to himself, he heaved out of bed and looked out the window that was overlooking the gardens. He was surprised to be met with the sight of a black silhouette scurrying across the gardens, making their way towards the equipment shed. They were dressed in what seemed to be a black hoodie and pyjama bottoms. He couldn’t make out their face, their hood masking all their features. Leaning out a bit to get a better view, he noticed they were holding something close to their chest. He wasn‘t sure but to him it seemed like a box.

Now this peeked the teenage boy's interest. He wondered what was inside the box to make them run so early in the morning. They were most likely a student in his year as these gardens were predominantly used by second years, since they were right by their dormitories. Should he go after them and make sure they weren’t getting into trouble? Thinking, he had nothing better to do and the chances of actually being able to fall asleep were slim so he decided to investigate. He wasn’t sure what he was going to say or do when he met the person but he just hoped they weren’t up to no good.

He pulled on the first sweatshirt he found and carefully made his way down to the backyard. He stopped when he thought he heard footsteps and thought of just going back to his dorm and letting the person do whatever they wanted. He wasn’t the class president or anything so he wasn’t obligated to check on every little out of the norm. Perhaps it was the lack of sleep influencing his decisions but for some odd reason he desperately wanted to know what the person was up to. When he first joined the Hero Course in second year he announced to everyone that he wasn’t looking to make friends. However that soon changed as he got to know everyone. He still wasn’t the most sociable person but hey who knows, maybe he’ll find a kindred spirit when it comes to the inability to sleep. So he let curiosity get the better of him and pursued onwards towards the equipment shed.

Once he was outside the shed, Shinsou leaned his head against the rotting wood trying to listen in. He was surprised to hear low whisperings but he couldn’t make out anything bar a few hushed be quiet’s. He stiffly stood outside for some time, unsure whether to knock or barge in. He decided knocking would probably be silly so he opted with the latter. In one swift motion, he swung the handle and stepped inside.

The scene before him was baffling, to say the least. Whatever Shinsou was expecting, it definitely wasn’t this. The black figure from before was kneeling down,  their back to him, petting a large grey cat while a kitten was on their lap. There were three more kittens around them, all purring and rubbing their heads against them, whining for their attention. When they heard the door creak open, they rapidly swung their head around, eyes wide at the thought of being discovered. So they were quite surprised when their deep e/c eyes met with Shinsous' own lilac hues.

They both stayed staring like that, neither pulling away and refusing to break eye contact. After what seemed like hours but couldn’t possibly be more than a few seconds, Shinsou finally pulled away, looking to the side while sheepishly bringing a hand to rub the back of his neck.

“Sh-Shinsou!” was the only thing you managed to say, confusion clouding your brain. Just what was he doing here this early in the morning? Then an even more alarming thought popped into your head. Was he going to report you???

Sensing your disarray, Shinsou quickly tried to explain himself, snapping you out of your thoughts.

“Oh, um, you don’t have to worry about me snitching or anything haha,” he nervously fumbled out, “I-I just saw you running and was wondering what you were doing is all…” he trailed off, unable to look at you in the eyes.

Of all people he had to meet in the middle of the night, why did it have to be you. You were also in 2-A, in fact you sat behind him in most of his classes. You two had a few brief encounters but it was enough for Shinsou to feel butterflies whenever he crossed paths with you. You were really sweet to everyone, always smiling and happy to lend a hand to anyone in need. Well you were the class president, he supposed, it was your job after all. Still though, the level of kindness you showed them all was something that not even Bakugou wanted to push away. As if your looks and kindness weren’t enough, you also had a killer sense of humour. You were always sending the funniest memes, tweets and tik toks to their class gc and responded to his sarcastic comments with ones of your own. You were without a single doubt one of the most perfect people Shinsou had ever laid his eyes upon. And now here he was seeing you surrounded by cats??? Hell, in his eyes you were quite literally an angel.

“Oh! Whoops, I suppose I should’ve been sneakier,” relief evident in your voice as you chuckled softly. Thank God it was just him and not someone like Iida a stickler for rules.

However, the fact that he was here now meant that...

”Wait a second! Did I wake you up??? Oh my God no, I am so so so sorry. Ugh, I feel so horrible now,” your tone changing abruptly as you ushered out an apology.

“What? No, no, it’s fine. I was always awake,” he quickly replied back looking down to meet your shining eyes again. There was only one window and the moonlight trickled through, enhancing your eyes and accentuating all your lovely features. You really looked as though you were hand-carved by the Greek Gods themselves.

You met his eyes again, sharing a look of sympathy as you understood his pain.

“Oh, you couldn’t sleep either? That’s why I came down here. I found the mama cat and her kittens three weeks ago. No one seemed to be feeding them or even know of their existence so I was kinda like damn, alright I’ll take care of yous,” you rambled on, almost forgetting about the kittens beside you, desperately mewling for attention.

You stopped to take a deep breath and started playing with the kittens next to you, looking up at Shinsou awaiting his reply.

Shinsou on the other hand was so absorbed watching you play that he didn’t even realise you were finished talking until you gave a small laugh.

“Do you wanna come over here and play with them?” you asked a small smile splayed on your lips.

He could not say yes fast enough. He walked over to where you sat and carefully kneeled down so as to not scare away the kittens. He gently started petting mama cat who instantly became smitten with him. Shinsou slowly began to smile, the pure adoration for these kittens displayed on his face.

You allowed yourself to stare at Shinsou while he wasn’t paying attention. Shinsou was a beautiful man, even Kaminari noting his good looks. You two never had much interactions bar a few good mornings and complaining about training. The usual small talk. He was always polite and when in a good mood would throw a few sarcastic comments here and there. Though he was never rude, it always felt like there was a barrier between him and the rest of the class that no one could quite break down. However now, early in the morning you somehow felt closer to him. It was like he was slowly letting his guard down. Even though neither of you were talking, you enjoyed his company, the silence almost comforting.

Despite how much you enjoyed just being next to him and petting cats, you also wanted to talk to him. It was hard talking to him in class, what with the walls he surrounded himself with. You decided now would be the best time to get to know him if you ever wanted to make a lasting friendship with him.

You wracked your brain for a conversation starter, not wanting to be too dry to bore him away nor wanting to be too chaotic to scare him away. God, just why were you so nervous anyways? It's just Shinsou after all. Why did talking to hot boys always have to be so hard ugh?

You looked over at him again, admiring his toned body that could almost be seen through the sweatshirt. You let your eyes trailed down until you noticed his pyjama bottoms. They were baby pink with Hello Kitty printed all over it.

You had to suppress a scream of joy. They were without a single doubt the most beautiful pyjamas you had ever laid your eyes upon.

“I like your pj bottoms,” you said teasingly, though that wasn’t your intention.

“O-oh, thank you,” he muttered, surprising himself by getting out a coherent sentence. Inwardly though, he was cursing himself for not throwing on a pair of sweatpants. You probably genuinely meant it but it was still something Shinsou didn’t want to go around flaunting. Fortunately for him, it was too dark for you to see the tinge of red on the tip of his ears and cheeks.

When he looked back up at you, he was expecting a face of mockery but was pleasantly surprised to see you smiling, your eyes shining brightly under the dim moonlight. The peace he was feeling before returned and he started to feel more confident in your comfortable presence.

“Y’know,” he started, his deep velvety voice becoming more confident. “Aren’t you the class president? What would Iida say if he found out?” he asked, completely breaking the ice between yous.

“You wouldn’t dare,” you said in a low voice, feigning a look of mock fear.

“I don’t know, it just wouldn’t be honest. My guilty conscience would never be able to handle it,” he replied, a teasing smile dancing on his lips.

You couldn’t stop smiling at the thought that he was willing to continue the conversation. You wanted to see how much longer you could make it last.

“Hmmmm, well how about I make it even. If you want, you can join me to feed the cats. They need to be fed in the day too, so it’s not like we’re always breaking the rules.” looking down as soon as you finished, afraid of the answer. You didn’t want to seem like you were being too pushy but at the same time you really enjoyed Shinsous company. The morning was slowly coming to an end and soon you both will have to go back to your dorms. You’ll both have to continue classes the next day and pretend this night never happened. You wanted it to continue. So you waited with baited breath for Shinsous reply.

Coincidentally enough, Shinsou had also been thinking the same thing. He had thoroughly enjoyed his time. Though you both hadn’t spoken much, your presence really put him at ease. He felt so much more relaxed around you. It would be a shame if this was the first and last night of spending time with you and the kittens. So when you asked, he knew his answer straight away. He just had to somehow play it off cool and act unbothered.

“Deal. I guess I have enough time to visit the kittens. And you too, I suppose,” he added with his signature smirk.

You felt your cheeks heat up but managed to return a mischievous grin of your own. You quickly pulled out your phone and sighed with disappointment when you checked the time.

“Unfortunately, I think our time here has ended. It’s nearly 4am, the sun will be coming up soon. And we have annoying classes tomorrow,” you stated a bit sad about the fact that such an enjoyable night has come to an end. However he did say he’d continue joining you so that kept you somewhat excited.

Shinsou looked at you, mouth slightly parted in shock.

“4AM already? Shit, sorry for keeping you up for so long,” with that he tried to remove mama cat from his lap who had fully made herself at home on it. She lazily stretched and got off, a bit annoyed that her nap time was ruined.

You and Shinsou both stood up and brushed yourselves down, dusting off any dirt that may have stuck on to you from the old floors.

“I can walk you back to your dorm,” Shinsou offered, his hand rubbing the back of his next.

“How chivalrous,” you giggled slightly. “Don’t worry about it, besides we wouldn’t want anyone to catch you in those stunning bottoms now would we,”

“Shut up,” he rolled his eyes irritably but there was a pleased smile on his lips, indicating he wasn’t really annoyed.

You both made your way back to the dorms, whispering softly to each other occasionally. You broke apart to go to your separate dorms and try to get at least a couple of hours of sleep.

You lay awake in your bed, replaying the encounter and a bit upset at how quickly it had ended. You remembered his eyes, his smell and his deep velvety voice. You couldn’t stop smiling stupidly when you remembered your conversations. Somehow thinking about his voice managed to help you drift off to sleep, your last clear thought being Shinsou playing with the kittens.

A/n: I tried really hard to keep it gender, race and features in general neutral. If there’s any place where I could improve or switch up my words please let me know and I’ll be happy to oblige :)) constructive criticism/ feedback is always appreciated in fact encouraged so do not hesitate to tell me anything. Anyways thank you so much and have a lovely day yall <33

[uglypastels]

Soteria // H.O. - Greek Myth AU

(a/n) I know I said I was gonna write this like months ago, and i had written most of it fairly quickly, but then inspiration and motivation kind of slummed and i stopped, but then tonight I was like, ya know what, let’s finish this. so i did :)

word count: 9.6k

warning: near death experience, death, drowning. Maybe parts of this are questionable, but it was based on an ancient Greek myth, so please take it with a grain of salt oki

Love is not full of pity, as men say,  But deaf and cruel where he means to prey  - (Hero and Leander, C. Marlowe)

Persephone had returned from the Underworld, and her mother Demeter was celebrating once again. The night was warm, and the flowers around the town were in their full bloom as the green leaves in the trees blew softly with the winds. 

The city of Sestos had its yearly feast, honouring the goddess of love. As the sun was slowly reaching the horizon, it illuminated the streets in the soft golden glow. The people of the town were coming outside, ready to enjoy the festivities. At the city square, with a fountain positioned in its exact centre, you could hear the lyre player strum a melody. A woman joined in on her aulos not soon after. With music good enough for Apollo himself, people were quick to start dancing around the square, laughing and vocally copying the melody in a complementing manner. 

It was a long walk from Aphrodite’s tower to the city, so by the time you had joined, the festival had been going on for quite some time already. Like every year, it was crowded. People from every side of the world would come to the party in the name of the goddess, in the hopes to find their love- even if it was only for the night. 

As one of the priestesses of Aphrodite, your attendance was more of a duty than a privilege. You were there to, of course, devote yourself to your deity and honour her, while also making sure that everyone else was doing so accordingly. Fortunately, it would still be some years until you took over the duties of the higher priestesses of the temple. Meaning that all your work was done at the offerings ceremony of the fire.

You knew that you had arrived later than planned, only a few minutes short from the start of the offerings. Stepping up towards the small temple where your sisters stood, you straightened out your peplos. 

“Where have you been,” one of your fellow Hiereiai asked as she ripped up the last piece of the sourdough. You took it from her and put it in the final empty basket. 

“I had forgotten to flower the anemones,” you said. You didn’t dare to look at the horrified looks you had gotten from your confession. You knew it was disgraceful, neglecting the sacred flowers. 

“I went back to do so, that is why I am late,” you explained yourself further, not letting any comments come through. You did not need to hear this now. You had realised your mistake and fixed it. Then let it be history. 

And history it became. You continued preparing the feast with the others, as the crowd of the Sestos inhabitants, as well as the guests, were already forming a line. Soon, one by one, everyone came up to the tables filled with the delicious food, grabbing what they wanted. As quickly as they came up to you, so soon did they leave. Of course, not before dropping a handful into the fire that sparked before you. The sweet smells of the meats and fruit roamed up into the skies for Olympus to enjoy. Your mouth started to water, and your empty stomach was rumbling softly, but it wouldn’t be long before you could eat too. There were only a few people left to serve, and then it would be your turn to make your sacrifice. 

You handed over a portion of roasted lamb to the man in front of you, not even looking up at this point, being used to the quick interactions. But he surprised you with two simple words. 

“Thank you.” 

This made you look up. 

“Uhm, you’re welcome.” You smiled, a bit taken back. It was getting darker, but the eyes that were looking back at you were clear and mesmerising, as piercing as Poseidon’s kingdom itself. You had never seen such vibrancy in someone’s soul. 

At that exact moment, the man looked at you in bewilderment. He smiled at you, astonished at how the crown of flowers complimented your hair. The golden flecks made it seem as if you were sparkling in the setting sunlight. Your shy smile made his heart skip a single beat. 

You shared another moment of eye contact before he was pushed forward by his company of friends. That same time, you were brought back to your duty by an overlooking high priestess. But from that moment on, you had lost your focus. As you were giving out the last rations of the meals, you couldn’t help but steal glances at the handsome stranger. You watched him throw a handful of grapes into the spitting fire. The orange flames illuminated his physique, highlighting the lines in his arms. 

You couldn’t stop looking at him. Not to put the gods in vain, but he looked like one himself. He had almost an aura around him that made you wonder if it wasn’t actually the Sun god in disguise. No, it couldn’t be. 

You ate your meal at the side of your temple sisterhood, but not even the delicious food could keep your mind away from the man. He stood there, across the festival grounds, not far away from the fire pit. A cup of wine in his hand. He laughed loudly, draping his arms across the shoulder of his friend. When he looked across the grounds, your eyes locked. You saw that intense blue colour and froze, as if under a spell. Were the gods testing you? On this sacred day?

You shook your head to yourself. No, that couldn’t be happening. 

Not looking up again, you finished your food. The music had been playing the whole time. Still, once the majority of the celebrators had eaten, the volume and tempo went up slightly, making it more enticing to dance again. And sure enough, the square was quickly filling up once more with people spinning and moving to the music.

Not much of a dancer yourself, you stayed seated at your table, looking at a candle that had been placed in front of you, getting lost in the little flame. As if you were put under a trance. It was swaying from side to side in the draft, but it seemed to have caught on to the rhythm of the kithara. You were so caught up with the movements of the light that you almost missed what was happening around you. In fact, you would have if it wasn’t for the dry cough you heard above you. 

Still, in a bit of a haze, you looked up. 

There were those hypnotising eyes again, small wrinkles at their outer corners. He was holding two cups of wine in his hands, extending one of his arms to you. 

“I thought you would like a drink,” he said. You didn’t know what to do, so you accepted the drink and with a soft smile, took a sip. The sour taste went through your entire body, so it seemed, in an enjoyable way. 

“Would you care for a dance, my lady?” he made another offer, pointing out to the rest of the festival. 

“I’m sorry, but I am not much of a dancer,” you told him, heat rising to your cheeks. You always thought of it to be a bit embarrassing that you could not dance. However, that did not seem to be much a problem, to the man, for he nodded with an accepting smirk. 

“How about a stroll around the streets then?” He suggested. This, you could not decline. You agreed to the idea and got up, taking your goblet with you. 

“What is your name, if I may ask,” he said as you left the festivities behind you. Though the music still seemed to be only a few feet away, you were actually making your way across the city. 

“y/n,” you told him, “and what may I call you?”

“My friends call me Harrison,” he said, before taking a sip of his drink. 

“That is an unusual name. Where does it come from?” You had indeed never heard of such a name and were curious to find out where the handsome stranger came from.

 “Well, I come from Abydos,” he chuckled melodiously, “but the name is my father’s. Son of Harios, you see.” 

“Oh, but Abydos, that is all the way across the Hellespont!” you exclaimed, not having expected someone to have travelled that far. 

“Yes, my friends and I took a boat this morning. We will be going back soon after the feast ends, probably.” He looked out, behind him, mournfully in a way. As if he wished not to be returning to his home. It did not go unnoticed by you. 

“Have you been here before?” you questioned, bringing his attention back to you, instead of what was going on in the square. It did fulfil your needs, as Harrison turned to you with a faint smile on his lips. 

“No, I have not. We don’t get to leave much, unfortunately.” 

“How so?” you kept on asking curiously. 

“My family does not enjoy the idea of me leaving my duties for a festival across the waters.” 

“Are you telling me that you came here without permission?” The idea made you giggle. He and his friends were risk-takers, to travel across the sea without telling their families. Who knew what could happen on those waters. The idea excited you. It would be a fantasy to think of anyone from Sestos doing something so daring. 

As Harrison spoke about his typical days back home, the two of you made your way further away from the celebration. The sun had hidden behind the sea, but the silver glow of the moon gave enough light for you to see where you were going. It was a bit of a walk, but you knew it would be worth it for the view. If there was the possibility of him never having the chance to come back, he needed to see it.

And so you lead him up the hill, through the gardens that you forgot to flower some hours ago, and finally reached the outlook on to the shore. It was a gap between the trees, just big enough for the both of you to stand in. Your feet were touching the soft grass. Petals of the flowers hitting your ankles as you took a step closer to the edge. Harrison grabbed your arm, making you look up at him with a raised brow. 

“Don’t worry; I spend almost all my free time up here. It’s safe,” you assured him. 

“Promise me that you won’t fall.” 

“I promise.” As you said so, you took another small step. Nothing happened. He still didn’t seem too sure about this position, but pushing the hesitance aside, Harrison joined you. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” he eventually spoke up, after a few moments of silence. “It is truly a magical sight.” 

“I know,” you had no better reaction. This had always been your favourite spot around the temple. It was the one place where the sea seemed to be calmer. As if Poseidon knew that the keyhole from which you were looking at his world was a little piece of personal Elysium to you if that was even possible. You had never thought of showing this to anyone, not even telling. Still, there was something about this Harrison, that made you feel good about this choice- secure. You had the feeling that he needed this—just this one moment—an almost sacred minute between the two of you.

You stood there for another short and silent moment. Both goblets of wine were now empty. Then, Harrison surprised you by grabbing your hand. He made you turn around to look into his eyes, his touch as well as his actions gentle. The silver moonlight made the blue in his eyes sparkle even brighter than you thought to be possible. 

“I know we have only known each other shortly, and what you have given me with this view is already unpayable,” he squeezed your hand, his eyes not leaving your face, “but can I ask you one more thing?” 

“Of course,” you asked without hesitation. Harrison took a step closer to you; he let go of your hand, just to cup your cheek softly. 

“May I kiss you?” 

This startled you. It was enough of a reaction for him to realise he said something wrong. He quickly pulled away. 

“I am sorry, I shouldn’t have-” 

“I wish I could kiss you, Harrison,” you told him before he went on. There was no need for him to apologise. “I really do. But I can’t.” As you spoke, you had the urge to bite your bottom lip to suppress any further emotions. The confusion in Harrison’s expression, however, was undeniable. 

“You can’t?” 

“No. As a priestess of Aphrodite’s temple, I have to honour the life of purity.” Saying that had never made you feel frustrated. It used to be something you were proud of, but seeing Harrison in front of you, it was merely an obstacle that you could not pass through. 

“Are you telling me, my love, that we can not show our adoration to each other, for you have promised to stay virtuous to-to the goddess of love?” His hand was back on your body. You could feel his fingers on the material of your dress, pressing in a squeeze as he finished speaking. Your head grew dizzy at how close he was. 

“Y-yes.” 

“Does that not sound absurd to you? A life devoted to Aphrodite, without being able to show love yourself? It would be like honouring Ares and not being able to wage war.” 

“I know, but-” 

“Have you made a promise? An oath?” He pulled you into him, his enchanting eyes desperate for you to give in. 

“No.” you shook your head. 

“Then what would be the harm? Don’t you think Aphrodite would be happy? To see us together?” He said all this with a kind smile on his lips, pulling you in closer. Your hand fell on his chest. Just by the simple touch of his chiton, you could tell that he came from a wealthy family from a different place. The material was unknown to you, but it was soft and smooth to the touch. You moved your hand slowly over the piece of cloth, but suddenly the texture changed. It was colder and firmer, and you realised you had moved your fingers on to his skin. With wide eyes, you pulled away. The way you surprised yourself made Harrison laugh. 

“It’s alright.” He said, taking your hand in his and placing it back on the spot you pulled away from seconds before. He held it to his chest tightly. 

“You can feel it, don’t you?” The intensity in his voice was mesmerising. That eagerness to show you every emotion possible through each word, no matter how small. “How my heart is beating, how it stopped at your touch? It is all for you, y/n.” He looked up at the black sky with a bright smile, “Aphrodite, be my witness, for tonight, my heart beats only for you.” He had looked back down into your eyes as he finished his bold statement.

Being so close to him and hearing those words leave his lips, you felt as if you were melting away from reality. Was this happening? Had Harrison just been struck by Eros’ arrow? Had you? You could not have said anything for sure, except that you could not get enough of his beauty. By far, he was the most gorgeous man you had ever laid your eyes on. 

“Please, y/n, let me kiss you?” 

Would you be breaking any rules if he were the one to touch you? You were not prepared to answer that question just yet. You took a step back, closing your eyes for you did not want to see the pain in his. Harrison understood your action. 

“Then so be it, but do not think that my affection for you will lessen, my lady.” And with that, he leaned in to kiss your cheek. That quick touch, not even lasting a second, was enough to make your entire body burn. Or, at least it felt like it was. As he pulled away, you wanted to lean forward, match his movements, not let him go. But your choice has been made. 

Harrison looked out at sea, his face illuminated in the silver light perfectly. But his handsomeness was overshadowed by the doubts and worries you saw were forming in his mind. You spoke for him, already expecting what was to come.

“You must go, don’t you?” 

“Unfortunately. If I don’t come back to leave with my friends tonight, the monsters awaiting me back home might be the end of me.” 

“Your parents will get furious?” you laughed at his dramatics, to which he joined. 

“Yes. But-” he took his hand in yours again, “I promise you that we shall see each other again, and my desire for your lips-” 

“Harrison,” you sighed. 

“I know. But I will prove myself to you and to the gods that I am worthy of your affection. I do not yet know how, but I will, and then, you may reward me with your kiss.” 

“You do not give up, do you?” You couldn’t help but smile at his stubbornness. 

“It is a treasured curse of mine, yes.” He kissed your knuckles before stepping aside, far enough to make it clear that this was where your night together would come to an end. 

“Farewell, my dearest, but not for long, as I promise you to come back.” He bowed down slightly before finally walking away, leaving you at the edge of the cliff. The night’s breeze flew by, taking some flowers from your crown with them. Not wanting to see him leave, you focused on the loose petals, disappearing in the dark sky. 

In the meantime, as the flowers made their way over the sea, Harrison made his way back down to the city, where his friends were none the wiser of his adventure with you. They yelled out in chorus when he came into their sight. It was his best friend, Thomas, that almost spilt his drink from excitement. It was clear that as Harrison was enjoying that, what seemed like everlasting paradise, they all had been enjoying the local wine a bit too much. 

But, of course, the night was not everlasting and the Sun would reach the sky once again. Sooner than later, even. And before it did, they would have to make their way back home, across the deep waters of the Hellespont. And then there was the challenging task of reaching their homes without being noticed by anyone. This was already difficult, and the fact that Harrison was the only one not overpowered by the restraint of the brew they had all drunk- it felt impossible. 

Yet, somehow, the men managed to cross the waters in their boat without problems. Poseidon had been on their side that night. The cold air and water sputtering around them, helped the others clear their minds in the meantime as well. 

Not much later, they had all reached their homes, and Harrison walked into his room. Though the morning would come soon, he did not feel tired. Instead of heading toward his bed, Harrison walked to the large open window. It looked out at sea. If he stared out long enough, it seemed as if he could still see the warm lights of Sestos ahead of him. He wondered if you were looking out for him as he was for you and if he would ever be able to see you again. With the images of you in his mind, he slowly fell asleep, still in the frame of the window.

Right across the Hellespont, up on the hill, in the temple tower, the same faith had fallen over you. With Harrison overtaking your thoughts, you had left yourself to drift off while looking out on the horizon. 

And the both of you were woken up in the same manner, startled awake as the doors of your rooms opened wide. Harrison fell to the floor as he reached consciousness again. It took him a moment to get his orientation back and realise he had, in fact, never reached the bed in the first place. 

“C’mon, get up.” Though they were not actually related, Thomas was like a brother to him. Hence, it was the last thing Harrison questioned when his great friend pulled him up to his feet at morning’s dawn. He was more surprised that Thomas was so active in the morning, considering that just a few hours ago he could barely walk in a straight line. 

“Your father is calling for you,” Thomas said as he finally got Harrison to stand up, “he wants you on the field.” Of course, today was time for training. Though the sun had not even surpassed the edge of the ocean, the warm air around him, told Harrison that it would be a hot day. 

“Yes, I’ll be on my way then,” He sighed, before asking his friend hopefully, “Will you join me?” 

“I wish I could, but I have been set duties at the house today.” 

Both Harrison and Thomas were the eldest sons in their families, which gave them a significant number of responsibilities to carry. But the difference between them was that Thomas did not have the same pressure as Harrison. Oldest of four boys meant that yes, he was expected to hold up the family’s honour and wealth. Still, if he did not manage this, this responsibility would be then passed down to his younger brothers. Harrison, having only one sister, did not have that luxury- and his father made this very obvious to his son. 

Many days would be spent out on the fields, fighting and training. Most often they would not stop until Harrison felt too weak to actually fight back. When he was younger, he thought he understood the need for this discipline, but now… it all felt so cumbersome. Harrison wanted to be more than just a fighting machine for his family. In fact, he wanted nothing to do with the battles that were so popular in his area. In his mind, there was no need for such a thing as unnecessary violence. There came no real honour with winning a duel like it. Yet, he had no choice but to follow his father’s commands.

“Where is your head, boy?” His father said as he helped Harrison up for the so-manyeth time later that afternoon. Harrison hissed out in pain as he felt his arms sore up from the hours of vigorous exercise. 

“On my head, father,” he shook the fall off and grabbed his fighting stick in his tights fists, positioning his feet, ready for another fight. He ignored the shaking of his muscles and the beads of sweat covering his body.

But his father did not deem that an appropriate answer. He leaned on his own stick, placing his palms on top of it, a heavy arched eyebrow implemented his thoughts. 

Though reaching a ripe age and having already lived through many horrors, Harios of Abydos did not show any of it at first glance. The similarities to his son were uncanny. The only real distinction between the two was the fine lines forming on the elder man’s face and how his golden hair was starting to include shades of Zeus-like silver. Then, of course, there was the beard that he had been developing over his years on earth. Harrison had not been quite successful in this just yet. 

“I can tell there is something on your mind, son.” He stood still like a sculpture, but his eyes moved quickly over the fatigued body of his only son, looking for signs of what could be going on with him. 

“It is nothing, father.” Harrison let his body relax. He did not want to speak about the events of last night. For one, his father did not know he had run away to Sestos without his permission. Secondly, Harrison did not want to know what his father would say is the fact he had fallen in love with a maiden of the Aphrodite temple would come to light. After all, it was his duty to protect his family’s legacy, meaning it was his duty to court a woman of some title, this way, their land and property could grow. And Harrison knew his parents already had women in mind. How heartbroken would they be to find out his heart was taken by you. 

“It is a girl, isn’t it?” Harios was quick to conclude. For him and his son were the same in more than just their looks. He could tell what the young man was thinking without asking a single thing. It was a skill Harrison was still unable to understand. 

“I understand my son.” He did. “But do not be a fool to fall for Eros’ mind games. You know what you need to do, and none of that will come from feelings.” He said it with a surprising amount of disgust, Harrison felt like. 

“I know, father,” Let that be all of this discussion, Harrison thought and hoped. His father had picked up his stick again, singing to him that Harrison was to do the same. While he was not looking, Harrison took a pained glance at his father. Just like that his faith had been signed off. 

But that made him only want to fight more for himself. That evening, when he was finally done with training and had eaten his dinner, Harrison decided that he would not let this be the end of you and him. So, when the sun had hidden once more, and the moon was high in the sky, illuminating the black water of the Hellespont, Harrison left his room. Silently, as to not be seen, he sneaked out from the grounds and made his way to the shore.

He looked around him, spotting the row of boats ahead, and walked on. Taking a boat out held too many risks. Someone would notice it out on the sea, or just find one to be missing in the small harbour. He and his friends had taken that risk the previous night but to take it again, would simply be careless.

So, Harrison took off his sandals and buried them in the sand, right next to a rock, so only he knew where to find them back. Then, he made his way to the water. The waves took sharp inhales and pushed straight back on to the land. As he stepped forward, he made contact with the icy water. It was much colder than he had predicted. Still, he had to move on. Slowly, step by step, he sank into the sea. First his legs, then hips and chest, until he could barely reach the ground beneath him. Not to lose any time, he swam. He did not know how long it would take, but if he kept on going, sooner or later, he would find his way back to you. 

And he kept on swimming. It might have been an eternity, or it could have been just a few minutes. He could not be sure. All he knew was that his limbs ached, but that home was left far in the distance now, and at this point, it would do no good to return. 

The hard crashing of the waves around him into nothingness felt even louder. As if they were speaking to him directly.

Ganymede. Not sure what they meant, Harrison kept on swimming, ignoring the rough water as it kept hitting him in the face. Almost as if in protest of his actions. It did not matter to him, though. The anger of the waves did not matter to him when his goal was so clear. He needed to see you again.

It seemed as if he had almost made it to the other shore. When suddenly, the water was rushing along some stream with great power, making it even harder for him to continue moving. The waves were holding him back, nay, they were pushing him down.

It became harder and harder to move, and eventually, the waved turned too big to avoid. With each one, his head would sink below. With a large gasp of air, he tried to keep up, but it quickly became an impossible task. One final wave attacked him, pushing him down to the bottom of the sea. Harrison tried to claw his way back up, but it was useless. He had lost his battle with the water. As he fell to the dark pits of the sea, he released his final breath of air. In his last moments of consciousness, he followed the bubbles with his eyes. His lids felt heavy, and he knew what it meant, for his lungs began to burn. 

Harrison sank deeper and deeper. The small air bubbles had disappeared into the darkness of the water. Eventually, there was nothing around him but the black void. He could not tell if his eyes were open or not. If he was awake or not- if he was even alive? 

All he was sure of were the voices around him—two, to be exact. 

The first was the one of a girl. He did not recognise it, but it sounds sweet and youthful.

“What have you done, Your Highness?” she asked, to which the second voice responded. 

“I have finally taken back from my brother, what he owed me—the life of his son.” Harrison felt even more confused. Had his father done something? Have his wrongdoings now cost him his life? Most likely, so.

The voice thundered on. It seemed to be coming from all around him. It was as if… it was the actual water speaking.

“Prepare Ganymede, for you shall pay for your father’s debts!” 

Ganymede? Harrison did not know of anyone called that name. He tried to open his mouth, but without any oxygen, it was too difficult to move. How he was even alive, was a mystery to him.

But whatever it was speaking around him, heard his thoughts. The first mysterious voice spoke up again. 

“Lord Poseidon…” Poseidon? He had been pulled down to the depths of the Hellespont by the sea god himself. “I do not think this is the man you were looking for.” 

There was silence. For a moment, Harrison thought that this had been it. The end of his life. But then, he felt a touch to his forehead. Two fingers pressing right at the centre of it. Suddenly, the fire burning inside his lungs seized. He took a deep inhale, thinking he was out of the water, but when Harrison opened his eyes, he was still on the bottom of the sea. Panic struck through him, as he thought he had just let himself drown, but no water came into his mouth—only the sensation of air. 

Also, there was no more darkness. In front of Harrison stood two light figures. A young woman, who’s hair and cloak flowed softly in the water, and next to her, a man. He was at least a head taller than Harrison. His long grey beard reached his chest and seemed to have small shells woven into them, that sparkled in the god’s own aura. But what really amazed Harrison, and pushed away all possible doubt about the identity of the man, was the massive silver trident in the man’s hand. Harrison fell to his knee immediately and respectfully bowed his head.

“Who are you?” Poseidon asked, his voice deep and powerful, booming through the. 

Harrison wasn’t sure if he could speak under the water, expecting nothing but bubbles to come out of his mouth, but when he did, he actually heard his own voice. 

“I am Harrison... of Abydos,” he said, not daring to look back up at the god. There was another moment of silence. Then, the woman spoke. 

“Can you confirm, boy, that you are not Ganymede?” 

“I can swear on the river Styx that I am not, and have never met, Ganymede.” He bowed his head again in respect to the King of the oceans. Though the water had been cold at first touch and as he swam, with the divine presence, it felt warm, almost boiling around him. The heat, now that Harrison considered it, came in waves. Like a pulse, a heartbeat. He tried not to overthink this phenomenon. 

The god and the woman looked at each other, realising their mistake. Then Poseidon looked back at the mortal hero. His wickedly blue eyes gazing down sharply like his own weapon. 

“Then what were you doing in my domain?” 

Not daring to look directly into the god’s eyes, Harrison spoke: “I was swimming to Sestos, to meet my love. We met the previous day, and I have not been able to stop thinking about her. I wish to see her again before it is too late.” Was it possible to overshare your feelings with one of the mighty gods? Yes, but Harrison felt the need to explain his actions adequately. 

“And this woman, does she share your feelings?” The woman glided through the waters toward Harrison, extending her pale hand for him to take. He did so with slight hesitance. 

He didn’t know what to expect when touching her fingertips, but it was not that of the texture of ice. However, while it had all its feeling, it did not hold any of its bitter frost. She took his hand and helped him up to his feet. 

“Y-yes, I think- I hope so.” He stuttered out. The woman smiled at him lightly before waving her hand in the water. Bubbles started to form around it, creating an intricate pattern. Moving faster and faster, the air bubbles moved to be one broad line of ice, turning smaller and smaller. The woman rolled her hand again, guiding the icy ring towards Harrison’s wrist. It moved and glided over his skin, forming itself to him, tightening like a bracelet made out of the most valuable of metals. 

“We shall let you continue on your voyage, Harrison of Abydos,” she spoke, “and you may travel as often as you please. For as long as you hold on to this charm, the waters will help you pass and keep you safe.

“But be careful. My father has eyes on all the waters of the world, and though his eyes are sharp, his mind may not be focused at all times on everything around him. Loose this, and I can not promise you safety in the waves or the currents.” 

“Thank you.” He bowed down to the lady of the sea and the god. 

“Now, be gone!” Poseidon, who had watched his daughter gift Harrison the armlet, growled. He held his trident and hit the bottom of it on the sand next to his feet. The booming sound evolved in large waves, making everything around the god to push back, including Harrison. He felt a strange, tugging, sensation on his shoulders. Suddenly, he was swept up by the new current and was being carried by the water to the sky. 

As he was moving, he saw glimpses of the large moon above his head. Its massive presence overtaking that of any other celestial body in the sky. And it only turned bigger and bigger as Harrison rose to the surface of the sea. With a large gasp, he felt his face finally be free from the water, as the pure night sky held him. 

He did not know how much time had passed while he was in the captivity of the gods, but he still needed to take a moment before returning to his journey to the other side. With deep breaths, he filled his lungs with the oxygen he had missed under the water. 

Finally, with you on his mind, he was on his way. Just like the Lady of the Water had promised, moving on, Harrison did not feel any struggle. Not only did he not feel the current pushing him backwards, it actually seemed as if the waves were helping him move ahead. His muscles could relax for he did not need to use all his power to swim. 

When he looked out in the distance, expecting nothing but the dark shadows of the mountains and forests, he saw the tiniest of bright lights. 

Because, as Harrison was nearing land, you had been sitting in your room, just like the night before. Looking out on the still waters, you looked out the window with your hand below your chin. To not be surrounded by darkness, you had put up a candle next to you on the sill. The orange light did not illuminate much, but it gave off a fabricated glow that reminded you of the sun in the morning hours. 

You kept on looking out at sea, while also listening for any sounds of your fellow temple sisters roaming around the hallways, in fear of being caught awake at this ungodly time. If you had looked away or even blinked, you were sure you would have missed it. A wave slightly bigger in size than the rest had appeared near the shore and it seemed to be carrying something. At first, you simply assumed it was limber or a piece from some unfortunate wreckage. But no. You were proven wrong when you saw the object- or better said, the person, move. Slowly clambering their way up to the beach.

For a moment you thought your eyes were deceiving you, for it looked as if the person stranded at shore was someone you recognised. Someone you had just met a day ago, yet could not stop thinking about during the day. All you really could make out was the vague shape of the man but… could it really be him? 

Quickly you got to your feet and ran out of the room. As quietly as possible, you made your way down the long stairs of the tower you resided. The massive doors of the entrance creaked loudly, but you slipped through the wooden gates successfully. 

It was not a long walk from the temple tower to the beach. It was the cliff that made it so difficult to reach, but you had managed to do so swiftly. Light on your feet, you jumped down to the rocks covering the sand, until finally, you could see Harrison lying at the edge of the water. For a brief moment, your heart ached at the thought of him not breathing, but as you neared him, you saw his head move to the side. His eyes opened, and the energy in his body ignited again. He jumped up and ran the final distance toward you, closing the gap between your bodies. You cupped his cheeks in your hands, utterly astonished that it was really him. Completely soaked to the bone, he stood in front of you. His hair clung to his forehead, and his chest heaved with every breath. His eyes looked even more vibrant as the salt in the water had tainted them red. 

“Harrison?” you gasped, still questioning if it was him. Not trusting your own mind. 

“My dearest,” he took your hand in his, kissing the inside of your palm, “I had promised you my return.” You had not actually expected him to come back. At least, not so soon. Though your experience with men may not be varied, you heard plenty of tales of them making promises, only for them to break them or never coming close to fulfilment. 

Yet, here he was. He had come back to you, just like he had said he would. He swam across the large sea just to see you. Did a grander gesture of passion exist, you did not know nor care. 

Harrison pushed back a stray strand of your hair, letting his hand rest on your face just like you had. 

As you looked into each other’s eyes, a more profound connection was forming. An unspoken bond that could only exist between two people. One that only a rare number of people had the pleasure to encounter. 

With a smile, you let your hand down, moving over his toned arm. His skin was still wet from the seawater, but what surprised you was the icy feeling of an armband enveloping his wrist. 

“What is this,” you asked curiously.  Harrison held out his arm, and you could see the intricate patterns reflecting in the night’s light. Lines curving to form what looked like waves of the ocean. The tiniest move of Harrison’s wrist made it seem like they were moving up and down. In fact, their pattern resembled the ebb and flow of the waves at your side.

“A gift from the gods,” he said. You looked up at him, confused. He did not immediately explain. Instead, holding on to your hands, he sat down on the sand. You followed suit. Positioned like that, Harrison told you his story. 

He told you how, in desperate need to see you again,  he had decided to cross the Hellespont tonight. How the water had pulled him down and, fearing for his life, you were still the one thing on his mind. He told you the way the current overpowered him and brought him down to the seabed and there… stood Poseidon himself.

You did not say a word, amazed at his story. You kept quiet as Harrison explained that the god had mistaken him for another man. 

“I had told him who I was and that I was merely on my way to see you. My love.” His grip on your hand tightened slightly. Your breath hitched in your throat. “And the Nereid gifted me this. It shall protect me from any trouble at sea when I am on my way to you.” 

With wide eyes filled with astonishment, you let your fingers graze over the metal. While Harrison had managed to dry off in the summer air, the band was still ice cold. Then you looked into his eyes again, and while the colour should be just as icy, there was nothing but warmth in them. All his emotions seeping through without a word that needed to be said. His hand travelled to your cheek once more, and Harrison leaned in.

Just for you to move away. You placed your fingers on his lips gently.

“I can’t.” It pained you to say those words, as all you wanted was to be kissed by him. 

“Please, y/n, let me touch you.” He pleaded. “I have come so far to show the love I hold for you, let me- please.” 

You did not say a thing. It seemed to be the only way out of this situation. As you had not given him direct access to your body, you were not breaking any rules of the temple. Meanwhile, you had also not pushed him away. Harrison understood what you meant as he leaned in, but not directly to touch your lips. He kissed your cheek, like the night before. And like the last time, you felt warmth course through your entire being. That feather-light touch made you feel as if you were floating yourself. 

And it did not stop there. He kissed you again, just an inch lower, and then again. Leaving that tingling sensation at every stop of his lips. You had been sitting opposite each other, so he took your hips and guided you closer to him. Letting your head fall back, with your eyes on the night’s sky, you focused on the new feelings that erupted in you as he touched your neck. A sound of pleasure escaped from your parted lips, and you could feel the smile that was forming on Harrison. 

He kissed you once more, just at the corner of your lips, before pulling away. Slightly displeased at the loss of contact, you let your head fall forward again. 

“Will you hold me?” you asked, not sure where the request had come from. 

“With pleasure,” he let you position yourself comfortably before draping his arms around you. Together you sat on the beach, arms entangled as your heartbeats merged into one. Whispering about sweet nothings. You had come to realise that not only did he have the looks of Apollo, but the wisdom and wit of Athena. And in him, he held humour worthy of the Muses. The longer your conversation went on, you realised that there was more between you and him than the physical attraction. It felt right to listen to his stories. The feeling of his arms around you was secure and pleasant. It felt like… home. 

But, like any good thing, this moment had to come to an end. Before dawn would set, Harrison had to get back home. You walked with him to where land and sea meet. The cold water nipped at your feet, and you jumped. 

“It is freezing,” you gasped. Suddenly, his act felt even more heroic. Harrison just smiled sheepishly. 

“It is worth it if it means I can see you again, y/n. And I will do so for as long as you want to have me at your side.”

“Then forever it shall be,” you said enthusiastically. Harrison looked into your eyes, looking for something, but he did not quite know what. He placed his fingers tips at his lips and sent a kiss your way. Though you stood far apart, a rush of warmth burned through you as if he was standing right next to you. This couldn’t be further from the truth. He was forming more distance between you. Each step deeper into the water until he had disappeared into the morning greyness of the sky, like a dream or a fantastical story. You wanted to keep watching as the waves ebbed and flowed, but you knew to go back to the tower.

As the sundial in the gardens was the only measurement of time, Harrison did not know how long it took him to swim to you and back. Nor did he know how much sleep he had been losing over this nightly adventure. Still, he never felt more alive. Days went by, and there had not been one that was not spent across-shore, with you in his arms. He did not try to persuade you for a kiss any further, for he imagined that if it was meant to be, the right time would come. 

Besides, the true pleasure came just from being in your presence, to have you lay against his body in the warm sand as you looked out on the sea that separated you in the day, yet also brought you together at night. 

The moon was in the same position in its cycle as the day you met. A bright silver orb in the middle of the universe, much like a pearl found in an oyster. Some nights as Harrison swam across the waters, he pondered what would be the easiest to bring you. A pearl from the deepest and darkest ocean, or the moon. He had asked you the same question, to which you just responded with a gentle laugh.

“Don’t be ridiculous. You do not need to give me anything. We already have each other’s hearts-” at this, you paused for a second. “Don’t we?” 

“You have had mine in your hands since the day our eyes met.” He confessed, kissing the palm of your hand. A warm feeling burst through you. 

“And so you have had mine,” you replied. Your eyes were still on your hand, on the place where his lips had met your skin. Your other hand reached out for it, tracing your palm with a feather-light touch. It felt warm. 

You felt his eyes on you, and when you looked up, the light blue shine was the first thing you saw. Bright, full of life, of love. How such a cold colour still held so much warmth within itself, it perplexed you. You felt yourself leaning in closer, in a trance with not only his eyes but with all of him. You needed to be closer to him. You needed to- 

And so, your lips met his in a soft touch that translated all your feelings and unsaid thoughts in mere seconds. His lips were soft, but salty, most likely because of the water he had been swimming in for all these weeks. The kiss grew stronger, more passionate. He reached out to touch your hip. It was one of the gentlest of touches. You responded to it with letting your hand trace through his hair, almost brushing it. It was still wet, and your fingers simply sailed over the locks. 

Harrison savoured every second of this, not knowing which would be the last. The idea of not touching you was absurd now, to not be able to kiss you anymore. If the gods were ever in his favour, they would have let him stay like this with you forever. 

But when did the Olympians ever let such things happen for mortals like him or you? The need for air, how unimportant it felt in the moment, was bubbling up in your lungs. Growing until it burned. You pulled away with a gasp. It was dark, but you could see the tint of redness across his cheeks. When you touched it, it was as hot as you felt. 

“You are divine, do you know that?” He said with a small smile, which he could not hide even if he tried. 

“I might have heard it in passing conversation.” You said, not able to pull your gaze away from his lips. They just looked so inviting. And now that you had had that first taste, nothing else seemed to matter. “But I must say that you, yourself, are… exquisite.” 

“How so?”

“I could not describe it if I tried, but it is so. Please, believe me.” You sat up straight. “I have had days in which I doubted if you were even real. A man like you could not be just a man.”

“I shall have to disappoint you, my love, for I really am just me.” He chuckled with his shoulders. You shook your head, however. 

“No, it is no disappointment. It- it is...” Not being able to find the words, you looked out at sea in the hopes to find your answers in the waves. You were so focused that you missed the look of pure adoration that Harrison was giving you.

“Perfection?” he said under his breath. 

“Yes!” you turned back to him, grabbing his hand to kiss his knuckles. 

The next moment went beyond comprehension because suddenly you found yourself enveloped in his arms. He had pulled you closer to him. He was now the one to press his lips against yours in a kiss. This one was more urgent, feverish, hungry. But also quick. The parting felt messy, and you were left stunned. Not by his actions. By your own internal reaction. Your body had surrendered to Harrison, and nothing seemed to matter anymore. You needed him. 

But the sun was already rising, and you both knew what this meant. It was time for him to go. With one last kiss goodbye, Harrison got up like all the nights before disappeared in the waves.

The saltiness of the water did not matter to him, for the only taste on his lips that he cared about was you. It was an indescribable sweetness to it. A softness that he would never forget. That feeling and the moment of your lips touching for the first time replayed in his mind all the way back home, and it continued on in his dream. However sweet the dream was, he did not want it to last forever, since reality felt much better now that you were a part of it.

And so, the next morning he woke up. The energy in him surprised even his mother, who had not seen him that full of life in a long time. 

The energy also came to fair use out in the open field, where Harrison’s father was waiting for him like any other day. Maybe it was because Harrison had so much energy in him, perhaps his father had somehow found out that he was escaping the premises each night to cross the treacherous waters, but the training was more brutal than ever. It left Harrison bruised and sore. He could barely move his arms. But it would not stop him from seeing you again. Nothing would.

What he had not realised was that during his daily battle, the armlet from the Lord of the Sea received irreplaceable damage. Holding on to its last strings, so to say, Harrison did not notice it needed repair for the rest of that day. And when he reached the water like every night before, the bracelet dispersed, melting into the water. Unbeknownst to Harrison, he had lost all his security in the sea. 

He swam like any other night, however. The waters were calm and felt warmer as a result of the sun starting to shine longer and longer. 

But the deeper into the sea he went, the harsher the current became. It pushed him off course. Confused, he looked over at his arm and in that instant it all made sense. The bracelet, his protection, had been broken. Nothing was stopping the wrath of Poseidon to take him now. He hoped that for one night, the god would not see it necessary to use his powers. That hope quickly vanished.

No matter how hard Harrison pushed himself, he could not pass the heavy current. He quickly found himself being swept away with the water. A wave fell upon him. It hit him upfront. The steel-like impact made it even harder to concentrate on staying afloat, above water. With his arms still hurting from the earlier training session, the task felt impossible. Though he kept trying. And trying. 

No matter how hard he tried, with the current and the waves, any attempt of survival seemed futile. He didn’t know how long he tried to fight his exhaustion, but eventually, there was nothing he could do. He had been pulled miles away, most likely. There was no way back. And the further into the waters he moved, the colder and harsher it became. It was getting worse. There was no point anymore. His body was on hellish fire. His bones burned while his skin froze. His vision blurred with each hit of water he received.

He closed them, immediately your face appeared in front of him. It did not matter that it was only but an illusion in his mind. You were there with him. You reached out for his face. Your voice was a soft echo in the back of his mind. 

“It is alright,” you said. A sad, but proud, smile twinkled on your face, “You can stop now.” But Harrison did not want to stop. He tried to push himself up to the surface again. One final bite of air filled his lungs before another wave emerged. It was done. His body had given up the fight. He still saw you. The ghost of your lips pressed against him, but it didn’t feel the same. It was cold. There was none of that softness anymore, it was all gone. 

But it was alright, he thought. You were here with him. In his heart, in his mind. You always would be.

As he sank down deeper into the darkness, he felt no pain. No sadness. No remorse. The time he had spent with you was the greatest he had had. For once he felt like there was more to him than what he had been told in his childhood. There was more to life than war. There was love. You gave him that. You had given him a purpose. Something worth living and dying for.

Like any night, you had watched the sea from your window. You saw how the storm had brewed. You saw the battle between the currents. And so, when that evening Harrison had not come up to shore, your mind held nothing but fear in it. But you held hope. Maybe he had seen the dangers in the waters and decided to wait. Maybe he was still at home. Watching the sea from across the other side, thinking of you like you did of him. 

You held those hopes for every night since. Hope that he would emerge from between the waters and kiss you like he had once. You didn’t dare to think that he was not here anymore. From that night on, life had become hard to live. Nothing felt the same anymore. Nothing felt right. 

Was this a punishment from your goddess? For breaking your vow? But then, why had he been the one doomed to die? Except, it wasn’t really his punishment, was it? You were the one left to suffer his loss now.

And part of you died too that night. For Harrison still held your heart in his hands, and so when he passed on to the kingdom of Hades, your heart, and with it a part of your soul, went with him. 

The End

> Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed

> please leave a comment or ask with your thoughts. i love reading them 

>masterlist and link to taglist in bio

tagging:

@definitely-not-black-cat @artemisiaarm @nerdyhockeygirl @miraclesoflove @justasmisunderstoodasloki @thefridgeismybestie @m19friend @creative-happenings @parker-holland-osterfield @fanficparker @fanficscuziranout @peterparkoure @xxtomxo @happywolves81 @captainbuckyy @tra-gicx @qxeen-of-hearts @varshavisuu @kangaroobunny @petersunderoos96  @the-lost-fairy-tale @nerd-domland @sleepybesson @rissa067 @the-queen-procrastinator @scarletteclipze @screeching-student-unknown @lonelyavenger @tomhollanders2013 @miraclesoflove @playinonaloop @queenoflostspirits @roses-hxlland @hereiamhereigo @sunnydays0803 @averyfosterthoughts @moorehollandplz @beiroviski @you-bleed-just-toknowyouarealive @peterparkerbabyyy @multifandomlover21 @lmaotshollandd @badbitchydecisions @tikapollak @awesomehritz @madzleigh01 @oh-what a beautiful-parker @taciturnspidey @quaksonhehe @mountainsforwords @harryfobter @peepeeparkerr @viagracex @ethereal-beauty-p  @slytherin-chaser @worldoftom @moonysoftt @peeterparkr @wazzupmrstark @saintlavrents @peachybloomss @blissfulparker  @fallinfortom @sarcasticallywitty15​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @hollandstea​ @musicalkeys​ @bitchydecisions​ @okokimfreakingoutahh @sheranatic111​ @zspideyy​ @itstaskeen​ @theliterarymess​ @geminiparkers​ 

[terribleoldwhitemen]

delighted to have been tagged by @laissezferre to answer some fic writer questions!

1) how many works do you have on AO3? 39

2) what’s your total AO3 word count? 230,440

3) how many fandoms have you written for and what are they? over the years I've probably dabbled in 50-75, but according to ao3 I've published in 22 (not counting "- All Media Type" umbrellas).

4) what are your top 5 fics by kudos? The Devils Before Us (fitzier) Scenes From a Not-So-Clandestine Romance (barduil) One Hundred Twenty-Six Dollars (barduil) These Small Hours (fitzier) magneticisque corporibus (fitzier)

5) do you respond to comments, why or why not? I try to--I don't think authors are obligated, but I see it as a way of saying thanks for the feedback I get.

6) what’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending? CHRIST. I guess my chernobyl one-shot is an unambiguous downer, but though many of my fics contain angst, usually the goal is to arrive at a cathartic and/or satisfying resolution.

7) what’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending? you know what. what IS a "happy ending" anyway. who's to say that what one person thinks of as "happy" isn't another person's "ambiguous"? AND ANOTHER THING--

8) do you write crossovers? if so what is the craziest one you’ve written? I do not. truly a strange gap in my oeuvre, given my formative ffnet days

9) have you ever received hate on a fic? speaking of ffnet--someone once uploaded a non-fic rant to the fandom about what its author perceived as an unacceptable spate of ooc-ness in recent fics. several were lambasted in detail, and though none were named outright, one of mine was immediately identifiable. I was 14 and had been writing for probably 6 months at time time so, yes, it was an ooc fic. but who does that???? what a petty and sad life that user must have led. high-quality, lovingly characterized fanfic does not pop up fully-formed like a greek creation myth. awful cringe fic is a crucial and even ongoing part of a writer's journey.

anyway, a fandom bnf immediately called this person out, and then also privately messaged me in support; so all's well that ended well.

10) do you write smut? if so what kind? a) yes, b) the mediocre kind

11) have you ever had a fic stolen? not to my knowledge

12) have you ever had a fic translated? yes! a few of my terror fics have been translated into russian and spanish. the work that goes into translation is insane, so it's honestly such a compliment knowing there are people motivated to put that kind of effort into poring over my words (and also a little bit intimidating).

13) have you ever co-written a fic before? yes; although it was never finished. I've also collaborated very closely on and written independently within several shared AUs.

14) what’s your all time favorite ship? this is an IMPOSSIBLE question which I REFUSE to answer

15) what’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? having recently resurrected and completed a five-year-old heretofore-abandoned wip, I'm less likely these days to say "never," but I do think my old galennic longfic Sum Total is probably something I won't ever bring to fruition to the degree I'd originally envisioned.

16) what are your writing strengths? dialogue, outlining, subtlety (I would like to think)

17) what are your writing weaknesses? transitions, internal narrative, Actually Finishing the Damn Thing

18) what are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? if I'm tolstoy and my audience is native russian and fluent in french, as was common contemporaneously, then yeah maybe I'll fuck around and open my magnum opus with several paragraphs of unfootnoted french dialogue.

but since I'm not, I would probably do something different. it would depend on the context, the reader, the narrator's degree of subjectivity/omniscience--etc, etc.

19) what was the first fandom you wrote for? sherlock holmes!

20) what’s your favorite fic you’ve written? it'll be a long time before anything I write affects my life as deeply as The Devils Before Us, but as far as fic I'm happiest to have brought into the world? fic that brings me the most joy to know Exists? has to be my west wing rarepair manifesto, last full measure :')

tagging uhhh OH DEAR I have a lot of writer mutuals, don't wish to exclude anyone, just off the top of my head: @wouldyoulikeacupofteadear @tinykings @hensons

[smediumsmeatbae]

Heads or Tails?

PAIRING: Steve Roger X Avengers!Reader SUMMARY: The Super Soldier and you are on a goodwill mission for the Avengers. When you get to the hotel, there is only one bed in the room. What will happen next?! WORDS: ~1300 WARNINGS: drunk decisions, Steve and Reader being idiots.That’s it, I think? Soft Steve is the focus of this fic because I’ve been really feeling Soft Stevie lately.   A/N:  So, I have to admit that the “only one bed” trope is probably my favorite and I couldn't wait to write something for it, especially with Steve in mind. He just seems like he would have the most deliciously awkward reaction of all of Chris’s characters. This is also very loosely proofread so any mistakes are my own.  This is an admission for the #shamelesshoesforchris challenge hosted by @navybrat817 and @stargazingfangirl18. The prompts that I used for this is: there was only one bed with the dialogue “You’re such a sore loser.” Hope you guys enjoy! You do not have my permission to post this anywhere outside of tumblr or as your own work. Likes are SO appreciated. Comments and reblogs make my week. Tags will be in a reblog since Tumblr sucks. lol. 

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"I know there should be two queen beds." Steve declared, his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at the single king in their hotel room. 

You sighed heavily, arms folded around your stomach. Why did he have to make a federal case out of this? Did he really have to make this more awkward?  

"Steve, it's fine. We can just…" You started. "I'm sleeping on the couch."  "What? First, It's a loveseat. I would barely fit on there, let alone you. Second, don't be ridiculous, there's plenty of room. That mattress is giant."

Steve and you were in a predicament. You two had been sent on assignment by Tony on a goodwill mission to London. After the past few years with the Battle of New York and Ultron, the Avengers were in desperate need of some good PR. Pepper and Tony worked together to formulate a plan. They decided on a tour: 10 cities in 30 days, London being the first stop. All they needed were two agents who could represent the team in a good light. Who better to represent the team than the Star Spangled Man with a Plan and you? While you were one of the newest members of the team, you were quickly gaining a strong social media following among fans who loved your self-deprecating humor, your Tik Tok dance videos, and how you took surprise selfies with the Avengers. You showed a different side to them, a softer side. Like the fact that Bucky could actually laugh and that Natasha loved to bake brownies. (That one had been very difficult to get.) 

Steve let out a little bit of a huff, which made you roll your eyes. 'Always so dramatic' you thought. He had been like this ever since you two had shared a kiss on the balcony of one of Tony's parties at the compound. Well, to be honest, you kissed him. That was thanks to a few too many shots courtesy of Nat and your crush on him did everything to fan the flame. From the look that he gave you after you parted, you thought the super soldier was going to spontaneously combust. After that, you had been too embarrassed to go and speak to him and he seemed to be in the same mindset as well when he avoided your eyes too. So when Tony had informed you two that you were going to be the “Face of the Avengers”. On tour. Together. For 30 days. You swore that your soul left your body.  

“I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” He shifted from one foot to the other, being the perfect specimen of discomfort.  “Who’s uncomfortable?” You shot an eyebrow up at him which made him roll his eyes at you. 

A few minutes passed before either of you said anything, the obvious tension in the room palpable.  You heaved a sigh, throwing your head back and uncrossed your arms. You went over to your purse and dug through your wallet until you found what you were looking for. Coming back over beside Steve, you gave him a smirk and held out your hand, revealing a quarter. 

“Since neither one of us will bend on a solution, I suggest a good ole fashioned coin toss. That should be right up your alley, Captain.” You teased.  “Ha ha.” He pursed his lips. “Okay, what are the rules of the coin toss?”  “If you win, you get to sleep wherever you want: love seat, floor... tub if you want.” You explained. “But if I win, you’re in the bed with me.” 

Steve’s cheeks had a slight pink hue to them. He sighed and nodded at your proposal. What else could he do? You took the coin and flipped it in the air, grabbed it, and slapped it on your hand, covered with your other hand. 

“Call it, Rogers.” you instructed.  “Heads.” 

You lifted up your hand and showed him: tails. 

“Well I guess you’re sleeping with me, Captain.” You teased him.  “Best two out of three?”  He asked, a pout beginning to form.

“You’re such a sore loser!” You laughed, amused as his pouty face. “Is it really so terrible being in the same bed as me?” 

“No, of course not.” He stated. “It’s just… No. Never mind.”

Suddenly, you could see the crimson on his face and how unease he looked. Maybe he truly did shudder at the thought of sharing a bed with you. For what reason, you couldn’t guess, but you needed to find out why. Dropping your teasing tone, you looked at your friend and wanted to find out what was going on.

“Could you tell me… Please?” you asked, gently.

He shuffled for a second, seeming to mull over if he was going to say anything. Finally, he looked up at you, hands placed on his hips. A slightly embarrassed look on his face. 

“Remember the night you kissed me?” Shit, this is what he’s thinking about. You thought and you could feel heat painting your cheeks as well as you lowered your head. Steve continued. “I never got to tell you… I’d been wanting to kiss you for a long time.”

Your head snapped up, eyes going wide. Steve wanted to do what? He had never given any kind of indication that he had any feelings toward you. You remembered, vaguely, of a laughing Nat and Wanda grabbing you from him right after the kiss. They were demanding more shots from you. It was all kind of a blur. 

“The next day, I wanted to give you some space, give you time to see how you felt.” Steve moved towards you as he continued talking. “But you avoided me after that and I took that as a sign that you were embarrassed and didn’t want anything to do with me.” 

You couldn’t believe his suggestion. He thought you wouldn’t be into him? Steve, a man with a body of a Greek god, who had an ass you could bounce change off of, and arms as big as tree trunks. Even all of that, it also wasn't just about his body. You were attracted to him, yes. Anyone that had eyes could see how attractive he was. But Steve was so much more than that. He was compassionate and  bold; he believed in his convictions. He was also tender and kind. Sweet and funny with a subtle but quick sense of humor. When someone looked into his eyes, they saw the truth because all he could be was truthful. And he thought, truly, that there wasn’t a way that you could want such a beautiful man? In a lot of ways, he was still very much that skinny boy from Brooklyn who used to get beat up in back alleys.   

“Steve, that couldn't be further from the truth.” You spoke out softly, finally answering him. “I thought… well it doesn’t matter what I thought. It sounds like we just had mixed signals.”  “So… you do want to kiss me. Sober?” You couldn't help but notice the small glint in his eyes as a smile curled on his lips.  “Yeah, smart ass. I do want to kiss you. Very much.” You grinned as you walked towards him, closing the gap. 

Steve wrapped his arms around your waist and leaned down as you stood up on your tiptoes to meet him, hands moving up his chest and lacing around his neck. Your lips touched, gently at first. As if you were trying to search out each other. Then, Steve squeezed your hip and opened his mouth, deepening the kiss. A moan escaped you as you leaned into Steve, pressing your body to his. 

“Let’s go to bed.” He whispered huskily into your ear as his hands traveled up your back. “Yes, Captain.” You smiled. 

[highfivesandgoodtimes]

talkin’ tennessee - t. konecny

so i’m back with another fic! i’ve been working on this one for a while now and it’s rather lengthy but i hope you guys enjoy! slow burn friends to lovers with our favorite country boy- tk <3 

this also is based loosely off the song “talkin tennesse” by morgan wallen so i recommend giving that a listen too :) 

summer nights have always been your favorite. settling down outside in the warm weather, sometimes by a fire and other times lounging around the porch or the patio, made it easy to release the stress of work, school and anything in between. the warm weather made you feel at peace and there was nothing better than catching up with old friends on a friday night.  many friends came home for the summer from their jobs in the city, much like you did.

much like travis did. travis was always something special. he had this energy around him that was captivating and fun which also kept the mood lighthearted and happy. the two of you were always friends, nothing special. not best friends or childhood crushes, just friends. that was until you started your new job in philly. as part of your last semester of college, you need to complete an intership and you took the chance to move a bit further away from home and into the exciting city life philadelphia brings. 

philadelphia also brought you to travis. you knew he played in the city but figured he’d be much too busy with his hockey season to see each other often and you were really fine with that. you two were never super close anyways. travis didn’t have the same thought. you received quiet the phone call from him once he saw a picture from your snapchat that revealed you were in the city. he scolded you for not calling him before your move and the second you answered he insisted on coming over to show you around the city. you laughed at his craziness but agreed. since he gave you his “famous” tour of his home away from home, your friendship blossomed. he spent many nights watching movies at your apartment, meeting up for coffee or lunch after practice, or visiting different bars with his team and your friends. over time, he morphed into one of your best friends and maybe a little more.

you couldn’t deny that you thought travis was attractive. it was obvious to anyone who looked at him that he was quiet the sight. but the way he would lay his head in your lap during a movie night after a long day or the way he draped his arm over your shoulder and ran his fingers through your hair did absolutely nothing to fight the leap your heart made whenever  you saw him. 

the summer warmth made fighting feelings for travis even harder. he wore his hats backwards and looked like a greek god in a short sleeved t-shirt. you couldn’t help but steal glances at him while he leaned against the fence and talked to another friend. you peeled your eyes away from him and chatted with your girlfriends about all of the life updates they had and laughed about your favorite memories together. 

the night grew darker and everyone creeped in around the fire. conversation flowed smoothly as you leaned your head back against the back of your chair and closed your eyes. you felt a strain of hair fall into your face but before you could move to brush it away, another hand was already delicatly tucking it behind your ear. travis had migrated his way over toward the fire and decided make himself comfortable standing behind your chair. 

“you falling asleep on us already?” he teased, glancing down at you with his signature smirk. 

“can’t a girl take a moment to herself in peace?” you playfully snarked at him as he laughed at your reply. he adjusted his weight back and leaned forward to rest his weight on your chair. one of his hands draped onto your shoulder and lightly trailed up and down your arm. 

“not on my watch hun. who would i be if i didn’t take every opportunity to bug you?” he said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. you rolled your eyes but smiled none the less. you leaned your head to the side to rest it on his arm. 

the chatter among your friends continued with both you and travis adding to the conversation. you eventually zoned out and found yourself glancing up at the sky. it was a clear night and the stars were actually visible that night. apparently, you were more caught up in the stars than you thought you were because you didn’t notice travis tapping you to get your attention. one final finger jabbed into your cheek brought your focus back to what was happening around you. you jumped, as you were slightly startled by said finger poking you in the face, and qucikly snapped your head to face travis. he chuckled at your reaction and leaned in closer to you.

“what caught your eye? you were in a deep zone there, i was poking you for a solid minute.” travis says quietly, leaning over your shoulder. you gestered up towards the stars you were staring at before answering.

“look at the stars, trav. they’re so bright out here, i forgot how pretty the countryside is. when was the last time you saw stars like this in the city? it’s just so pretty.” you softly spoke back to him, leaning a little closer for him to hear you. he looked up at the sky as you spoke and hummed softly in your ear in response. 

“still not as pretty as you.” he mumbled quietly into your ear. it took you a bit by surprise, was travis flirting with you? you turned to glance at him only to find him already gazing at you with a soft smile on his face. you could feel your cheeks blushing so you quickly snapped your head away from gaze. part of you was waiting for him to chirp you for your rosy cheeks but for the first time, travis was quiet and simply rejoined the conversation with your friends. 

was this travis trying to make a move? did he feel the same shift in your relationship that you felt? the thoughts were spinning around your head a mile a minute and you felt yourself once again losing focus of your friends in front of you. part of you was scared. as much as you hated to admit it, travis was your best friend and the risk of losing him was frightening. at the same time, you couldn’t ignore the way your cheeks flushed when you catch him staring or the way you felt your heart beat faster than you thought possible when he pulled you closer to him. 

you tried to shake travis out of your thoughts and migrated your way closer to the gossip your friends were sharing around the fire. gossiping and laughing with the girls proved to be a great distraction as you completely forgot about travis and his comment until you felt a hand slide around your waist and rest on your lower back. 

“having fun over here, pretty girl?” you could hear the smile on his face as your cheeks slightly darkened when you turned to face him. you gave him a simple nod and a grin before leaning back into his touch. he hummed in response and you swore you felt his lips ghost against your temple.

“i’m gonna grab another drink, you want anything baby?” he asked, still giving you that soft smile from earlier. it took a couple seconds for the pet name to register.

“did you just call me baby?” the words blurted out before you could stop yourself. your cheeks were bright red and you could feel how hot they were getting. travis seemed to think for a minute before he replied.

“hm, guess i did. it seems to slip out when i get distracted around you. anyways, do you want that drink?” he said nonchalantly, sliding his hand to rest on your hip. you messily stuttered out what you wanted, clearly flustered by his answer. what does that even mean? distracted around you? travis didn’t give you enough time to overthink before he started walking away after giving you a “coming right up baby.”. 

at this point, you couldn’t even think straight. was he serious about this? travis always was touchy with you, especially in public and especially as the two of you grew closer. but this was new, even for travis. baby? the closest he had ever gotten to a pet name was the occasional “sweetheart” when you were sad and that one time he got trashed at a bar and called you a “total smoke show”. you watched him walk away into the kitchen with a million thoughts spinning around your head. you couldn’t ignore the chorus of “oooo” that came from the girls who watched the encounter. you playfully rolled your eyes and hushed them just in time for travis to come strolling over with your drink. he smiled at all the girls before handing you a drink and slipping his hand back around your waist. you mumbled a thank you, trying not to get flustered by the feeling of his hand against your back. he made a small noise of acknowledge me into your hair but this time you were certain you felt his lips press against your head. his lips lingered for only a moment before he settled into your side and started up another conversation. 

you didn’t know what to do or what to think. for the second time tonight, you rejoined your friends and tried to push thoughts of travis out of your mind. this worked for a solid hour or so until someone suggested settling back into your chairs and starting a fire. travis lightly guided you over to your chairs, him choosing the chair right next to you. of course, things could never be that simple. it just so happened that the circle of chairs was one chair shy of fitting everyone. travis, in true travis fashion, didn’t miss a beat. 

“here you can just take my chair.” it’s like he was trying to make you go crazy tonight. obviously, travis migrated back over to you but that wasn’t out of the ordinary. he went to settle in behind your chair like he had been earlier in the night. he was always such a gentleman and it was making this rush of feelings towards him so much harder to manage. his hands rested on your shoulders as you tilted your head back to look at him. he smirked at your gaze and pressed a kiss to your forehead. 

“do you wanna share my chair?” you found myself whispering after he lifted his lips off of your forehead. he agreed and made his way around to the front of your chair. before you could scoot over, travis scooped you out of the chair and settled himself in it with you on his lap. 

“this okay with you baby?” he whispered into your ear, trying not to bring too much attention to you two. he wrapped both of his arms around your waist as you leaned back against his chest. 

“yeah, it’s okay trav.” he didn’t answer you from there but continued to keep you close. he’d occasionally run his hands up and down your sides and whisper confirmation that you were still perfectly fine into your ear and call you some sort of pet name.

eventually, the night drew to a close and your friends started to head home. you felt travis tap you on the hip to grab your attention. 

“do you wanna start packing up now to head home? i’ll drive you home honey.” he asked, loosening his grip on your waist. you nodded at his words and hopped out of his lap. the two of you said your goodbyes to your friends and travis grabbed your hand to lead you to his car. you reached your hand out to open the car door until travis slapped your hand off the handle and swatted yours away. before you could even ask what the hell he was doing, he was already speaking.

“don’t even think about it.” he grabbed the handle and pulled the door open. “after you, gorgeous.” he helped you climb into the car and then shut the door for you. if he kept proving to be such a gentleman, your heart was going to burst. he really opened the door for you, helped you into the car, and then shut the door. talk about man of your dreams. he hopped into the drivers seat and it was as if he wanted to make your head spin more than it already was, he threw his arm over the back of the passenger seat as he backed out of his parking spot. 

the two of you drove home in a comfortable silence. travis kept a hand on your thigh the whole way home. you could feel him trace small circles on your leg as he mumbled along to the song on the radio. the quiet gave you some time to think. what was travis trying to do? he was never this touchy feely with you and the pet names were something new entirely. was this his way of letting you know he was interested? was he just gonna whisper sweet nothings into your ear and slip up by calling you baby until you asked about it? would you ever ask about it? your train of thoughts was interrupted by travis opening your car door. you hadn't even noticed you had made it home.

“after you, baby” he said as he extended his hand to help you out of the car. in true gentleman fashion, he walked you to your door as he always did when you two were home in philly. “did you have a good time tonight?” travis asked as you approached the door. 

“yeah, it was a nice night. did you have a good time?”

“of course, i always have a good time with you” he said with a smile. you smiled back as he reached out and took your hand in his. “uh...hey..um.. i know i’ve been acting different lately, well, mainly tonight but uh.. ya know i’m just gonna say it. i really like you. i think you’re really cool and funny and awesome and you’re so ungodly gorgeous that i can't think straight sometimes. but if you don’t feel the same it’s totally chill. we can pretend this never happened...so..yeah. i just needed to let you know that.” he ended his confession with a light chuckle. he dropped your hand from his and stuffed both his hands into his front pockets. he rocked back and forth on his heels as he gave you a moment to process what he just dropped on you. 

life couldn’t be real. there is just no way the boy of your dreams is standing here in front of you and telling you he feels the same. you weren't crazy. all the little touches and pet names and soft gazes were intentional and he meant it. he meant it and he felt the same. you couldn't control your reaction. you lurched forward and cupped his cheeks between your hands right before pressing your lips to his. 

his hands wasted no time finding their way back to your hips. he tugged you closer so you were flush against him and deepened the kiss. his hand wandered up to cup your jaw as your hands trailed down to rest on his chest. it felt like the scene in a romantic movie where the guy finally gets the girl and your heart gets that excited happy feeling. expect this, this was ten times better.

you two pulled away after a couple moments. neither of you could believe what just happened. you both beamed shining smiles at each other and lightly laughed out of pure relief. his hands wandered back down to your waist while you lazily draped your arms around his neck. he leaned down to press another kiss to your lips.

this kiss was much lighter and sweeter. he lightly hummed in content and you couldn’t fight the smile that came over your face. you two pulled away giggling and grinning.

“so i take it you’ll let me take you to dinner tomorrow night?” he asked with his signature smirk. you grinned and then faked a sigh.

“i mean if i have to...” you jokingly trailed off. he jabbed his fingers into your side in retaliation. “kidding! kidding! yes, i’ll let you take me to dinner tomorrow.”

you two chatted for a couple more minutes before travis wished you a goodnight and kissed you one last time before heading back to his car. you wandering into your house in complete bliss. the smile seemed permanently glued to your face as you laid down for bed and dreamt of what was to come with travis by your side.