#but then realizes it has some sort of Greek writing on its helmet

[nerdybluehairandpronouns]

*makes an OC* THERE IS NOW

Sofia Solis

It's a crime that there's no Hispanic child of Apollo whose surname is Solís

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

HASO, “The Veil.”

More things are slowly being revealed about my universe, and I hope you like it. This was an interesting exercise in writing. 

Deus

...

Adam freezes in place.

The red mist swells and churns around him as the monoliths tower high overhead.

The word echoes and repeats down the vast streetways and up into the high reaches of the cavernous spaces overhead blending with the moaning of creaking metal.

He turns in a sharp circle and immediately begins a broadcast to the ship, “Omen one this is admiral vir calling for immediate backup. I am not alone, I repeat, I am not alone.”

He got only static back.

Frozen in place and staring into the res haze, he becomes very unsettled as he notices a thickening in the clouds, great billowing resthat presses downward from above, covering the monoliths where they had once been rather visible.

He couldn’t see more than a few feet in front of him now, and hugs the wall tight with fear gripping his chest. He reaches down to his hip and unholsters the gun that is strapped there.

The advanced sensory systems in his gloves transfers the feeling of hard metal directly into his fingertips. He kept his finger outside the trigger guard, worries being jumpy would lead him to doing something stupid.

He looks up and sees nothing but resmist.

It continues to billow around his feet, and now it is getting hard to see his hands.

He presses his back against the wall as he scoots back in the direction he had come following the map on his wrist indicator.

The Geiger counter on his wrist blinks to life and inside his helmet he begins hearing the slow rattling clicks as he is given an audio indication of the radiation. It seems to be rolling in with the fog.

That hardly makes sense as he hasn’t been detecting any hint of radiation before this, but he supposes small concentrations of smoke is nothing like the billowing mist that now surrounds him. He keeps his back against the wall as the clicking grows faster.

The radiation is rising, though he isn’t much worried about its effects on him. The suit was designed to withstand radiation in the direct light of a star, so it doesn't much concern him.

What concerns him is the slowly invading ressmoke, and how he can no longer see his own hand in front of his face.

His breathing comes hard and fast inside his helmet creating a surprisingly humid environment inside the climate controllessuit.

He turns off all of his lights as the billowing smoke keeps interfering with his line of sight, and he has a horrible feeling that the light is only giving him a halo effect, and making him more obvious to whatever could be watching him.

That voice hasn’t spoken in some minutes, and in a way he almost begins to believe that it was some sort of hallucination. Perhaps it was all a figment of a torturesimagination on a strange alien world, and nothing was watching him after all. Maybeit was some sort of auditory hallucination brought on by an imbalance of atmosphere inside his suit.

He looks down to check his wrist indicator, but pauses halfway there. If that isn’t the case, he isn’t sure he wants to know. The thought of the voice being real scares him more than he would like to admit, so he stays quiet and keeps his way along the wall.

If he can just make it back to his ship, then he knows he ill be fine.

He feels better in the air than he does on the ground after all.

He is a pilot, and any issues he could run into while in the air are things than he is comfortable dealing with.

He has reached the edge of the monolith now, feeling it’s cold steel pressing against his back.

The red mist swirls before him so thick that the scattered light reaching through to him is no better than the last fingers of twilight.

He stares into the abyss.

He is breathing hard and his fingers tingle inside his gloves with his back pressed against the wall.

He takes a deep breath glancing quickly down the side passage as he hears a deep and low groaning. He knows it is probably just the metal monoliths creaking overhead, but he can’t help but think about the Ancient Greek Labyrinth and the minotaur that wandered it's corridors.

Quickly,he kicks the gravity fields on his boots to life,and presses back against the wall in preparation to launch himself forward into the mist.

He is just readying himself to push off the wall when...

Suddenly his fingers are touching nothing.

His breath catches in his throat, cutting off a scream as he silent pitches backwards into darkness.

His hands flail and his feet kick for a second before a hard impact reverberates through his suit, knocking the wind from his body.

His vision is completely obscured by blackness.

He can’t breath.

Adam rolls onto his side gasping and choking mouth opening and closing like a fish as his stunned diaphragm struggles to take in air.

A warning light on his suit begins going off as his blood oxygen content takes a sharp downward spike.

He rocks from ide to side in a panic trying to find his breath again, and finally gasps in a loud wheeze of air.

The warning light in his suit slows down before finally stopping.

He lays on his side in the darkness gasping and taking long, slow deep breaths groaning slightly as he regains his breath. The suit’s warning lights fade and then vanish.

He is left alone in the dark breathing heavily.

Adam rolls onto his stomach and then onto his hands and knees. The sensors in the suit’s gloves can detect the hard smoothness of the metal under his hands. He doesn’t see anything else at first, and is about to turn on his lights when a soft resglow begins out of the darkness. At first, he thinks it is just a hallucination or his imagination like he assumes the voice had.

But the light continues to grow, and, as it does, others join it. 

A hundresmaye even be a thousand glowing resorbs about the size of his fist or a little bit bigger.

They line the hallway before him clustered on the walls and on the floor in groups that reminde him, not so comfortingly, of alien parasitic spores from popular science fiction.

He tries to crawl backward, but his foot hit something hard, and he turns to find a dark metal surface slick and impenetrable lit up by reslight.

He swallowes hard.

He was alone, 

He tries engaging his comm though nothing works, and he was simply left alone in the silence.

Inside his chest, his heart pounded, and he does his best to breathe slowly and evenly.

With some trepidation, he stands and begins forward into the hallway.

The one mission he had actually wanted to bring other people on, and he couldn’t. The shuttles were to clunky to handle an atmosphere like this and far too large to navigate all of the strange obstacles that he had spotted on his way down. It had been a one man job to make it here, and it looked like it was going to be a one man job getting out.

Sure the marines could take the pods down at his request, and they probably would if they receive his transmission, but he would rather they didn’t it is far too dangerous.

Red light spills in through his face mask and glows off his skin.

The little red orbs pulse slowly brighter and then fading away giving him the foreboding impression of a beating heart or blood rushing through veins. The very thought itself sends shivers up his back as he makes his way down the dark hallway.

He doesn’t realize it at first, but the expanse was much larger than he had thought, and the hallway in which he walks spannes quite wide, across a great entrance hall -- or so it seems to him.

As he walks, the hallway seems to morph until it is no more a hallway but a large room.

Pillars rise up at the center, covered in the clusters of little red pulsing orbs.

The room is massive, so large in fact, that he can barely make out the ceiling in the darkness aboe, it seems to rise up into the very tops of the monolith itself.

The vastness of the room makes him feel very small, but he continues walking, knowing there is no point in going back.

If he is going to find a way out, it is going to have to be forward.

His heart continues to hammer in his chest as he passes massive pillar by massive pillar.

Again he is struck by how large the room is, and consequently, the size of the pillars, which are larger than redwood trunks and spout the little red obs like barnacles sprout on the bottom of a boat.

He doesn’t realise it until he exits the forest of pillars that he has not even reached the center of the room yet. He is just at i’s fringes and now that the pillars are gone, he can see across the vastness of the room to where an alien structure stands dormant.

He shivers as soon as he sees it.

Whatever it is…. It is wrong…. alien …. And unknowable.

His eyes try to follow its outline, but make it only a few feet before becoming confused and going nowhere.

It is a mass tangle of metal, constructed like a strange alien protein or some kind of warped sea creature.

The more he looks at it, the more his eyes churn in confusion.

He tires to look away, but that doesn’t help much.

He shakes his head.

The weird tangled structure sits at the center of the room, all alone.

He wants to stay away from it, but at the same time he feels pulled towards it. He knows it is completely irrational, like all of the teenage girls in cheep horror movies going into the dark places instead of following their instincts.

He had always thought that those were unrealistic, but now he can see that he was wrong.

He understands the feeling as he is pulled across the open floor and towards the structure.

Like everything on this strange planet, he has immediately underestimated the size of the structure. As he grows closer, it towers over him, a massive twist of wicked metal swirls, infinite and completely unfathomable in the human eye. 

Its almost two, maybe even four stories tall, and stretches out far enough to completely encompass a small building or even a house.

His skin prickles.

The same feeling as if he is being watched.

He glances over his shoulder but sees nothing.

He then looks towards the structure wonderin if something could be hiding in it. Is it some sort of alien nest? Are hose things on the wall its offspring.

Is he going to die here.

He stands there for many minutes, unsure of what to do or where to go.

Where is he going to find a way out?

He turns back to the structure.

It sits quietly.

He shivers.

Its a strange feeling, it seems as if it is watching him, in the same way a person watches you or an animal, but as if you know that the animal can speak but is simply choosing to withhold that ability.

Like it was being INTENTIONALLY silent.

He takes a step back but stops.

Krill would kill him if he knew.

He always warned adam against the kind of impulses he is getting now, but he cant seem to help himself.

Before he knows what he is doing, he reaches out a hand his fingers splayed wide as he reaches towards the strange object.

His fingers remble a little.

And then they make contact.

At first he feels nothing until a sensation registers through his gloves.

The object is soft…. And warm….

…

Organic

….

He only has a split second to register this feeling before he is assaulted by a force so powerful he can barely comprehend it.

Knocked out of his mind.

Completely out of space and time.

His vision is obscured by blackness, though he feels as if he is spinning, his body whirling repeatedly end over end in some sort of eternal cartwheel. Though he cannot see he can sense a void of eternal blackness all around him stretching out to infinity on all sides 

He cannot fathom how long he spins it could be a simple moment or it could have been a thousand years. His body does not register time in this palace, almost as if there was no time to register.

He is simply a conscience in a void of eternal darkness. 

And then…. Light. 

All around him an eruption of light, a massive expansion outward that begins from everywhere and nowhere all at once. His vision is filled with blistering heat though there is no pain. He is simply enveloped by a wall of white. And where there once was eternal darkness, there is only light.

It fills his vision and spills through him like a river of molten gold, rushing through his veins with a wave of fire and ecstasy incomprehensible by the human mind: a feeling no drug could ever touch.

He can feel it burning at his fingertips and toes, pushing his skin till it seems to burst and light leaks out through the cracks.

He is one with the light.

Part of it.

Enveloped completely.

There is no time, and no space, just the burst of light.

Then before him the light begins to condense, collapsing inwards to show the darkness once more, but, this time, instead of just one or the other, the points of light cluster together on a backdrop of blackness, sharing the space neither one dominating over the other.

The light continues to unfold, curling outward like a swirling sinuous body before outstretching great wings of stars.At once it seems like a massive dragon is stretched across the sky before its silhouette fades and it is gone, its body fading backwards into the illuminating mass.

He can finally comprehend what he is seeing as he watches stars form inside fields of gas at billions of times the speed. He watches them swirl together in great spiraling forms.

His body is shot through space at what must be trillions of times faster than the speed of light, though it seems to be no more than a gentle float through the vastness,, passing by towering spirals of stars and gas making galaxies and trails of stars hung like ribbons. 

He reaches out a hand, feeling though not seeing and feels hot embers of flame across his fingers as he takes his hand through a field of stars causing them to burst away from each other like scattering dandelion fluff.

Infinity continues on below him and above him and to all sides of him.

The stars spin and so does his mind.

His thoughts are still even as they race, held together simply by the gravity of his own consciousness.

Stars take up his vision.

His mind can neither comprehend or begin to comprehend what he is seeing, but instead of confusion or collapsing inward on himself, he feels.

At home.

A warmth begins in his chest welling up into his throat and then behind his eyes. 

The relief of returning home after a long journey,

Of seeing loved ones again.

Of returning to ones childhood stomping grounds and lifting their head to the wind as memories come rushing back on the breeze.

He takes a deep breath, though there should be no air to breathe.

The vacuum of space has no hold on him.

He is immune.

Powerful.

He is carried across the universe pulled towards it’s edge watching as stars fly past on either side.

A pinprick of light, just like the others, and then it expands filling his vision.

His eyes widen as brightness envelops him, and he can sense something just beyond the veil of light.

He feels as if he could reach forward and cast the veil aside like a gossamer curtain.

And then.

Nothing.

The light stops, and he is no longer moving. The curtain seems to wave before him, and he can sense shapes beyond, or at least he swears he can.

He reaches out desperately.

But is pulled backwards.

His heart shatters.

Like a glass sculpture thrown to the ground with violent intensity The pain of it is immense and incomprehensible, and he doesn't understand why, which only makes the sensation all the worse, all the more confusing.

He is a child, lost and alone, left outside cold and alone.

Unprotected.

He is lost in a well of agony.

Until a soft voice.

You Are Not Ready 

The voice is, gentle, filled with concern, as if consoling a child.

It is not unkind, quite the opposite, and it acts upon him like the soft caress of a mother or father. Though he has no body, it almost feels as if he is enveloped, wrapped in protective arms, or a thick blanket during cold winter as the snow falls from above.

The veil fades back into darkness.

His body hurts for what he is leaving behind, but the arms lead him gently away, and where they touch he feels heat and light just as he did when approaching the barrier.

He can no longer understand what he is seeing.

Tears leak from his eyes, spilling outwards as points of white light to drip down and join the stars.

Then he stops moving.

Hands, gentle, and consoling cast him backwards to float out into space.

As soon as the fingertips are gone, the light vanishes with it.

He wants to stay.

He desperately wants to.

But the voice comes again.

You Are Not Ready.

And then blackness. The voice echoing in repeated circles around inside his head.

He hits the ground hard, and is knocked breathless for the second time. Eternity collapses in on itself back to a pinpoint focus so tight it seems claustrophobic and crushing.

He gasps for air feeling as if he is dying for a moment, though his body soon regains control over his own senses. The limited pinpoint of consciousness and sensation being his own, very limited body.

He is lying face down on cold metal, and the sensation of what he has lost wells up even more. He curls into a ball, his hands around his chest, knees brought up. Tears roll down his face and drip onto the screen of the helmet.

He sobs quietly, unable to control the overwhelming feeling that something profound and irreversible has been taken from him, though he doesn't know what.

Through his tears, and through the face screen he can see the swirling mist of red. The structure is gone and so is the monolith.

The ground rumbles below him though it is a distant thing, only a rattle.

He lays there for a long time as his consciousness slowly squeezes itself back inside his skull feeling confined and cramped in a sensation he would never be able to explain in words or in writing.

More vibrations though these ones are uneven.

“We found him!”

“Omen respond, we have found the admiral.”

“That doesn't make sense! How did he get here.”

“What do you mean.”

“This is nearly thirty miles from his last broadcasted position.”

The voices help him stitch his mind back into place.

A hand on his shoulder, barely noticeable through his space suit.

“Admiral, admiral can you hear me…..” he has forgotten where his mouth is, “Adam!” More mumbling voices, “His vitals are clear, heart rate is elevated, reparation elevated.”

“Picking up some abnormal cerebral activity curving towards normal.”

That’s Krill’s voice.

He remembers now.

“Adam.”

Ramirez?

Arms grab him around the chest and force him into a sitting position. His head lolls to the side.

A hand catches him and holds his head up. He leans heavily against Ramirez as he tries to remember how to move.

“Adam, can you hear me.”

A light passes through his mask and onto his face.

He cringes away from the light. It hurts much more than the other light he remembers.

“Come on, buddy, talk to me.” Ramirez pats the side of his helmet.

He blinks hard and takes a deep breath.

“Ramirez?”

“I’m here, I’m right here.” 

His tongue feels like lead and the insides of his mouth are coated in sandpaper. He coughs.

“Adam, what happened.”

His vision spins, “I…. I don’t remember I…. I was…. Inside, and then…”

“The monoliths collapsed, they just fell out of the sky and…. We thought you were dead.”

“But I…. I was inside and then…. And then I was everywhere.”

The marines looked at each other in some confusion.”

“Your GPS cut out almost ten hours ago and shortly after that the monoliths began falling from the sky and collapsing in on the structures. It was chaos, destroyed everything. And then an hour ago your GPS coordinates appeared here…. Did you walk?”

He looked up confused, “No…. I… I don’t know how I got here.”

“Someone get him up and into the shuttle. He probably hit his head in the collapse.”

“Good idea.”

Two marines moved forward and helped to drag him to his feet. 

His legs didn’t work, so they had to drag him to one of the ground shuttles and then back over the open planes of the planet before they were able to find an atmospheric opening that would allow a less experienced pilot to fly out.

His head continued to spin.

He stared down at the planet and it’s red haze as he was carried away.

In the back of his head a soft whisper.

You Are Not Ready 

[midnightbluefox]

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

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

+ fic is mature/explicit

* fic is a WIP/ currently incomplete

________________________

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

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

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

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

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

They’ve found him anyway.

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

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

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

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

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

OR

INTERGALACTIC ROAD TRIP 2019]

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

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

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

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

Or - how Ben Solo is a virgin no more.

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

What the fuck?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alpha.

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

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

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

And she definitely didn't plan on kissing him.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He grabs her and kisses her hard.

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

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

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

The dreams saved him.

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

Historical accuracy AND inaccuracies. Earns its rating later on.

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

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

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

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

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

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

OR

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

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

Ben. Corporate lawyer. 189 cm.

What else was there to say about him?

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

That is what he should have written- the reality.

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

.....

IT’S A MATCH!

You and Rey<3 have liked each other.

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

“They won’t.”

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

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

—

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

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

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

And an athlete…

And a basket case…

A prince…

And a criminal.

Does that answer your question?

Sincerely — The Breakfast Club.

—

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

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

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

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

--

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

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

Preferably naked.

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

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

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

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

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

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

He was iron, wrapped in the finest velvet.

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

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

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

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

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

-------

A REYLO VICTORIAN / CINDERELLA AU

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But she doesn't.

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

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

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

-

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

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

-

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

[tcrmommabear]

Merry Christmas Wolfie!

Oh, my dear @wolfiethewriter, I had a lot of fun writing this!

It’s funny how ideas and connections will hit suddenly. And then you wonder where they’ve been hiding for you to not have noticed before!

I hope you enjoy this short story about Toto, and his life before the Bureau (and a brief snippet of his life with them!)

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.

-E

There was a tapping at his window.

The two things in question- his window and tapping sounds- weren’t typically a cause for concern. But the two coming together, at the dead of night, on a second story window, was reason enough to be concerned. Maybe a touch frightened.

It was storming terribly outside. Snow buffeting against the walls and windows, the old home creaking slightly under the stress. Perhaps a tree branch, or a stone? Yes, surely he could reason away the tapping that had awoken him from his dreamless sleep.

Except there were no trees and stones near his window, and as much as he didn’t want to admit it… There was the shape of a raven pecking at his window. Was the creature seeking sanctuary? He’d seen them be clever creatures, in odd ways. Never often enough to prove a thinking mind behind the eyes, but enough to be curious.

He arose from his warm bed, crept to the window, and threw back the latch. Within a moment, the window roared open, grasping fingers of wind and cold caressing his cheek. The bird flew in, racing to the shelf above his bed, and he shut the window soon after, locking the panes back into place.

“An unfortunate time to be compassionate,” he muttered, eyeing the wet floor and strewn about (thankfully blank) papers. He glanced at the bird, who sat preening at the moment, nudging wayward feathers back into place. He shook his head, stepping around the mess to the chair and fire, tossing another log.

With the bird in his room, he’d rather hold off on sleep, so neither were trapped with the other. His leg bounced, hands clasped in his lap. It was fascinating to see such a creature up close, some sort of haunting feeling lingering in the air. Like the bird was all too aware of everything around it.

“I don’t suppose,” he asked lightly of the bird, “you could spare an apology for waking me from sleep? Or for the mess left upon my floor?”

It stopped its preening, turning instead to focus remarkably intelligent, black eyes upon him. He felt exposed for a moment, like staring down at the dizzying height of his home, the ground unreachable.

The bird gave a smile.

“One is due, in any circumstance. Along with my thanks,” a deep voice spilled from the beak.

He scrambled, limbs frantically working to get him up and away. He crammed himself into the corner behind the chair, never breaking eye contact with the bird. He grabbed the fire poker, held it up with shaking hands. As intimidating as a mouse to a lion.

The bird watched him. Waited. Cocked its head as the two stood there together, opposite corners of the room and battling for the space. At least, he felt he was in battle. An outright war between his logical, insistent mind that none of this was real, and the morbidly curious side of his mind. The one that watched crows peck at the leftover corpse of a squirrel.

“Surely,”- he licked his lips-“surely those words were not spoken by you, bird? Otherwise, I may have to admit that I’ve gone completely mad.”

“But I did speak. Specifically to apologize and to thank you. I thought I might frighten you, but you’re taking this all really well,”  the crow laughed, slightly. The sound, though disagreeing with his understanding of the world, was warm, kind. He didn’t quite know what he had to be afraid of. It’s a crow.

A talking crow.

“If I may, sir,” the crow began, flapping wings and jerking his head towards the fire, “might I take a perch by the fire? I’ve flown all day and night in this snow, and I’d like to get warmth back into my bones.”

He used the fire poker to loosely gesture over towards the fireplace, dropping it when the bird took flight and landed near the flames. He slowly worked his way around his chair, dropping into it without breaking contact with the bird. Surely, there must be some reasoning or idea behind this madness.

“You’re just a dream, yes?” he asked hopefully, pressing his clasped hands against his mouth.

“That’s a question with an answer only we can decide for ourselves,” the bird answered, simply, “but I like to think of myself as quite real.”

“Right, of course.”

They lapsed into silence, the wind’s howls and the fire’s crackles more than eager to fill the space. The bird seemed as content as could be just to watch the flames, quiet company and all that. He felt like a bomb ready to go off, examining ever feather and piece of skin he could find.

“You speak well,” he blurted out once the fuse lit the dynamite, “taught by your master? Did he give you a name?”

The bird blinked in surprise, if he had to guess. He felt foolish at the idea of asking for a name, expecting much of the creature that (he was beginning to reason to himself) could only speak what little its master had taught.

“I’ve had many names over the years,” the bird told him, staring into the flames, “none have really stayed. Call me what you like.”

He shifted, fraught with nerves. He glanced about the room, searching for a bolt of lightning to strike him. A small bust caught his eye briefly, the features sculpted delicately, the war helmet upright and sure.

“Would “Pallas” be a suitable name?” he asked after a moment of thought.

The bird gave a bark (caw?) of laughter, fluffing its feathers while it turned to catch his eye.

“After Pallas Athena, I see? I’d be honored to take her name,” he chortled out.

He gave a relieved smile, still flicking between the two, looking for some sort of riddle to be solved. Hardly noticing the final, mournful howls of winter’s snow. But the crow- Pallas- took off towards the window ledge, pausing to glance about what survived of his desk.

“I thank you for your kindness and warmth,” Pallas called out, reading his works that he’d tried and scrapped. “Could I have your name to thank you properly?”

He hesitated a moment, before responding, “Allan. You can call me Allan.”

“Sir Allan,” Pallas said, puffing their chest, “I thank you for the fire and the company.”

“Will I see you again?” he blurted, crossing halfway to the window with a hand raised. He had questions, needed answers, wanted to discover how far reality and dream came to be. How mad he really, truly was, to seek after a bird.

Pallas cocked his head, left then right, then read his papers one more time.

“Morning nears, and the storm has finally stopped. But perhaps I can stay in town a few more days, just to be sure the snow will leave us.”

Pallas grinned at him, jerking his head at the window, and he realized the crow lacked what was needed to get outside. Cold air burst against his cheek, the wind tugging stubbornly at the pane to fly open.

Pallas took off into the night, gone with the inky black sky, and he quickly closed the window after. He stumbled into his bed, pulled the covers up to his chin, then to his eyes, hiding under the blankets as he counted down from ten. Twas just a dream. A dream within a dream, and one so curious and frightful.

“Never again,” he whispered to his heart, “never again. Nevermore shall that crow visit me.”

***

“Baron, who’s this a bust of?” Haru called, standing before the stone torso of a Greek woman, dressed in robes but bearing a helmet upon her head.

The plaque saying her name was Greek (literally) to Haru, having travelled to said country for a Bureau investigation that she wasn’t entirely sure was going well. But hey, a day spent at public places that don’t care if you’re suddenly calling out for a person who’s not nearby was a day she could enjoy.

Toto flew in, landing a foot or two on the ground, trying to look as casual as a crow talking to a human girl could be.

“Baron’s over trying to stop Muta from attacking the gelato cart,” he told her when she gave a confused look, “which bust are you talking about?”

“This one,” Haru said, flapping a hand at the woman and nearly smacking her hand on the stone.

“Pallas Athena,” Toto replied, “or plain Athena for those who don’t know epithets. Famously known as the Greek Goddess of wisdom and strategy.”

“Huh,” was Haru’s response, tilting her head, “that explains a lot about that poem.”

“Poem?” Toto asked.

“Yeah, the one by Edgar Allan Poe. He mentioned a bust named “Pallas” and I was always really confused on who that was.”

Toto narrowed his eyes at the bust, echos of memories just barely coming through.

“Haru, what was this poem called?”

“Hmm? Oh, uh, “The Raven”, I think.”

Toto cawed out a laugh, catching Haru by surprised.

“I always thought he lied about his first name. Truly scared you, didn’t I, Sir Allan?”

Haru blinked, turned towards Toto, and ignored a surprised audience when she yelled-

“Wait you knew Edgar Allan Poe?!”