#godly tourists au

[spoofymcgee]

She feels Hermes arrive more than anything; the flutter of his wings against her skin. He's picked her bad side to appear on, and she's not sure whether it's forgetfulness–doubts it, as Hermes is shrewder than he likes to appear, but usually more considerate as well.

He doesn't say anything, though, content to be a presence sitting next to her and another pair of heels kicking off the side of the cliff.

Ithaca has become something of a hotspot for gods these days, and she doesn't know whether it's because of herself or Odysseus. Telemachus, perhaps, finding wayward deities off on his journey and sending them home for her to deal with. If it is, she might have to shake him next time he comes back.

*He'd have been better as your student," Athena says, finally, once they've watched Odysseus fleece two more sailors cocky enough to challenge the king, and sneak four coin pouches, six hats and nine knives off the spectators in the process. He'll give them all back at the end, but he seems like he's enjoying the challenge, and Penelope sits a polite distance away chatting with the captains' wives and occasionally glancing over to grin at him.

"Who?" Hermes says, like the answer isn't obvious. "Oh, Odysseus? Darling, where in the world did you get that conclusion from? Does Persephone have a new sort of flower she's growing, and if so, where can I get some?"

"Don't be an idiot," Athena tells him, but it doesn't come out half as annoyed as she'd meant. Damn, she really is going soft. "I mean it. Look, he's perfect for you, and you wouldn't have led him astray like I did."

"Do me a favor and don't try and foist your pupils off onto me," Hermes says, checking his nails in the sunlight. He's been down in the Levant again recently, she sees; they're colored a faint orange with darker, intricate designs twisting up his knuckles.

"I'm not," she says, feeling the feathers framing her face ruffle in indignation. "He's mine for as long as he'll have me. I'm only saying, if things were different..."

"But they're not," Hermes says flatly, looking up at her. "We live here and now, dear. Besides, if he was my student he would have been even sneakier, and no one would have taken that well. He wouldn't have made it past the age of twenty, and he wouldn't have been brave enough or good enough to protect his family."

"You can't know that," Athena protests, though her hand drifts absently to the edge of her scar.

"And neither can you," he points out, pulling one foot up to tuck under the opposite thigh. "So stop trying. Odysseus is home, Athena. By the looks of it, you are too. You're not doing anyone a favor by living in the past."

She looks down at her hands, twisting in her lap.

"You're a warrior," he says, voice softening. "You've never given up in your whole life. Don't let yourself lose this battle just because you're fighting your own brain."

The breeze is cool on her face, and she grits her teeth as matching tears slip off her chin and land on her chiton. "Alright."

"Good," Hermes says, and hits the cliff with his heel hard enough to send him twirling into the air, sandals fluttering. "Now, take me to where the olives are, I'm positively starving." He holds his hand out like a princess waiting to have it kissed, the other wrist pressed to his brow with his head thrown back, and she can't help but laugh. He's kind enough to ignore how wet it sounds.

"We can't have that, can we?" she says, and launches herself past him fast enough to send him spinning, and doesn't need to look back to tell he's chasing her–the playful outrage is loud enough even for her to hear.

[breakandbuildfiction]

Just some random additions because I like this concept:

Danny eventually does learn how to do things like shapeshift and cast illusions on himself-- in addition to many other powers-- to make it seem like he's older, so when he does spend time in his 'natural' timeframe he doesn't look too out of place when standing next to his friends and isn't sent home out of hand when he tries to enlist/show up for the Wolrd Wars.

It becomes a game for him to keep an eye out for anything that references things he did in the past. Dear John letters in museums, paintings and sketches, statues and busts, accounts about important events, photos (mostly photobomb because he's not THAT reckless or stupid given how relatively close his normal life is to the invention of the camera), ancient legends, a couple cults, things he made whenever he decided to learn new skills and crafts like blacksmithing or sculpting, just anything that proves or hints about him being there.

There are a few 'side effects' about doing all this time traveling to the past and waiting it out to the present though. For one he is TERRIBLE at making plans in his home time period because he'll get the urge to go back in time for a few years/decades and by the time he gets back he's forgotten all about promising to meet for lunch that specific Saturday because he forgot the Nasty Burger existed until Tucker reminded him. Another 'side effect' is that he'll reference things, people, or events from a century ago and talk about them like it was last week and will base his strong opinions on more modern things on them, often confusing the hell out of his 'fellow teens' who wouldn't learn about Stalin photoshopping people out of pictures after he had them killed for years but apparently that's why Danny Fenton hates photoshop and AI art.

He has an unspoken agreement with himself whenever he crosses path with himself as they live through various time periods. Nod, wave, walk away. No spoilers, no warnings, no interaction beyond the barest minimum acknowledgment.

Instant Eternity

Time travel involving the infinite realms is truly a bizarre thing. Sometimes it follow one set of rules, and sometimes that set of rules may as well not exist. Usually, however, it works in one of two ways, the first is when the time travel is achieved through artificial means such as clockworks portals and allows for the altering of the timeline as one would expect time travel would allow. The other type of time travel is through natural means, portals usually, and it’s just that, Natural. That portal to the past opened up in the past the same moment it did in the present. If you step into the portal in the year 2000 then you already stepped out of the portal hundreds of years ago. It’s A Thing That Already Happened. Danny himself experienced this, as while chasing Vlad through time they fought in the middle of a Roman coliseum and, whoopsy daisy, set a really big fire. A fire which Danny had learned about years before he even had his accident.

So, the infimap can take the user anywhere, anywhen. And the infimap is just that, a map. It doesn’t make new roads, it just drags you across already existing paths. So it is a natural form of time travel, if you use it to go in time to kill your grandfather in order to insure your never born your interference will result in your grandparents falling in love and your birth.

Danny realizes that anytime he needs to heal from a battle or has gone 156 hours without sleeping or eating he can use the infimap to pop back to the past for a few days and then have the map bring back to the “Present”, exactly one second after he left. A three week vacation that lasted one second. At first he’s really wary about using this, worried about accelerated aging or getting lost in the time stream and a hundred other issues. At first.

It’s been months sense the accident. Sam and Tucker have both shot up several inches. Danny, on the other hand, hasn’t grown sense the accident. At all. They fought a ghost who could rapidly age opponents, a single slap turned Tucker into a decrepit old man. The ghost wrapped his hands around Danny’s throat and spent 5 minutes trying to strangle him while Danny bought time for Sam and Tucker to pull off the plan. The sucked him into the thermos, his influence on time ceased so Tucker returned to his proper state. “Jeez it sure is lucky he didn’t try and age me, right guys? Ha ha ha”. Danny gets blasted through a natural portal while making a trip through the zone and spends years trying to get home, not aging a day.

He can’t deny it after that, can’t ignore it. He’s immortal. He’s going to live forever. He’s going to watch his friends and family whither away and die out. He’s going to have to spend the rest of his life wandering from place to place trying not to get outed as the same 14 year old who save someone’s great great grandma 100 years ago.

After having his first middeath crisis, suddenly the only reasons he had to not spend years on end wandering the world and the past is gone, even if he loses the infimap, worst case scenario he’ll just take the long way home. Suddenly, he’s dreading the next 80 years of the “Present”. He decides that if he’s going to watch his friends and family grow old and frail he’s going to make sure it’s takes as long as it possibly could, from his perspective. By the time they’re 20 Danny’s gonna have 200 years under his belt.

He becomes a temporal tourist, hopping into the past every time the late night fights and schoolwork become to much. Spends years in every civilization imaginable, mastering every skill he can, leaving legends in his wake.

I feel like Danny and his adventures do have a lot of potential for story’s, as it’s a pretty good setup for having Danny in any type of time period or historical event for extended periods of time, fighting in the trenches of World War I, exploring the Americas during the era of colonialism, sailing the seas a swashbuckling vigilante pirate. I, however, have most of my related ideas being based around crossovers. So most of that will be in part two, so that people who like to filter out all that can still see this post.

[artist-yippeefun]

so um this is my cotl au

sorry if my english is shitty im kinda tired but at least I tried

So this au focuses more on the past, not when the bishops still haven't had crowns but more on the time where other gods aside from the bishops were even alive.

I just based this from whatever scrap lore Massive Monster gave us

So first (this will be a long one)

Most of the gods i based on the relics, (Ala, Galvar, Shunrue etc.) But i know there were more i didnt mention below (the revenant, Ygna, The Fanatic etc.)

Imma explain this:

The anchorite relics: The Anchorite was an organization/worship group which belonged to some of the most powerful gods, such as Ala, Galvar and Shamura, basically the ones with important roles, with the Fanatic leading them all. They focused on judging mortals and worshiping Great Ones. (The beads of the anchorite are the names of each member)

Old Gods: Old Gods were mortals (MOST) who were given crowns to spread the propaganda of the Great Ones. You may be wondering why i put MOST slap bang in the middle, well its because some of them were bred with godly blood, or gods mating with each other (God + God, God + Mortal or God + Demon).

Well unfortunately, this is considered a taboo in the lands of the old faith, and if you are a god and you mate with another, you would be unalived DX so the godly children, or "abominations" would be raised by Shamura, as their siblings. Who knew that these children would be Kallamar, Narinder, Heket, and Leshy.

Tribe: So 2 of these relics have similarities, notice it? The both look like black and white hands, but one is a bone that you can crack. Most of these are headcanons but I think that the "Marbais" is a sort of tribe, and they worship the two clasping hands. Idk why i put the cross eye of the crow in there, but maybe because of its aesthetics :p

Creatures/Beasts: this one is easy, creatures refers to the exotic animals the lands have to offer (finally SOME tourist worthy stuff) and beasts are just huge towering conscious beings.

Shaman: Shamans are just people who practiced magic outside of the law of the Old Gods. I guess its possible that the Lamb could be a shaman, but they were originally governed by Narinder, so no. (Monch is a shaman now ig)

Now that i explained everything, I will post again for part 2

Sorry if i was yapping too much😣😞

[worldsfromhoney]

Ficlet Masterlist

Each ficlet has its respective warnings so pay heed to them!! I aint responsible if you don’t know how to spot the big red warnings 👁️👄👁️

Gen All The Way

Tar dan Elif

High fantasy. An assassin goes about an assignment. It’s their favourite one yet

tints, tones, tests

Punk. The occupant of a room sees two worlds in one and makes a choice

pristine clean

Magic realism. The cleaner of souls heeds the call. The body’s in a forest

this winter we played

Medieval. A statue shows up in town. It’s not as cold or unmovable as they think

Ornaments Along the Parapet

Modern. She decides to go to the old railroad bridge

counting on

Historical. This child gets candy. The price? Freedom

…and so on!

Queer platonic

The Crowning Jewel

Cyberpunk. The rebels go and rob critical information. They get more than they expected

Lines of Power

High Fantasy. An undead necromancer goes for a sleepover at a witch’s house. Nothing wrong with that, right?

Throw Thy Pride

Modern. After being imprisoned, a government agent comes back home. It doesn’t mean he comes back whole

Not Like This

Urban Fantasy. A chicken humanoid gets a scare and the farmhand is there for comfort. It’s not as easy as it sounds

S.A.D.

Modern. One day, the tattoo shop remains closed and its florist neighbour needs answers. It’s somehow what they expected and not at all

Tears For You

Medieval. The knight sees the servant when they start crying. It is on their honour that they help stem the tears

Let Me

Xianxia. A master healer’s junior comes back to the sect. It doesn’t mean they came back whole

A Home With You

Modern Dæmon AU. Local tour guide approaches seemingly lost tourist. They get more than they expect

When in Rome

Steampunk. You come upon a stranger being dismantled and torn apart. You stay and witness.

…and so on!

Gay Gay Gay

what use are labels (with you)?

Modern. A chase between a hero and a villain. To what end will they reach?

With My Heart and Soul

Historical. The best bachelor in Roma’s looking for something. He finds it in a house he’s too familiar with

He Who Tends, He Who Mends

Medieval. A knight comes home from war. He finally gets taken care of

This Godly Taste

Historical Fantasy. Playing a game with a god never ends up well. Not even if you’re the pharaoh

Jewels of Mine

Historical. In the eyes of God, love is not a sin. In this case, it is and he cannot stop wavering

My Dear Thief

High Fantasy. A thief just wants to start a new life, free from the past. But everyone dreams and so does he

Vivre Notre Amour

Historical. A revolutionary sneaks into the bedroom of one of the most protected nobles in France. They talk as they always do

…and so on!

Series Ish

Welcome to My Channel

Urban Fantasy. You go through your coming of age ceremony. You wonder how anyone gets through adulthood like this

PART ONE

FINALE

To Fall and Fall to Rise

Urban Fantasy. After years of freedom, Val’s mother calls for him. What else is he to do but come?

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

FINALE

Imposter Syndrome

Urban Sci-Fantasy. Del’s mother is dying and it’s time he claims the thing he wants most—or the person

PART ONE

PART TWO

PART THREE

FINALE

…and so on!

Do interact with this post (like/rblg/comment) if you want to be added to the taglist for any future works !!

Have fun reading love 💛💛💛

[oh-for-fic-sake]

Will Of The God’s Chapter One

Masterlist found in ficlets/short fics

Summary: All is not well in Olympus; the king of the gods has grown weary of his cold distant wife who seeks to punish him for his infidelity. But two thousand years have passed and Zeus has finally had enough. If Hera doesn’t want to be his wife or warm his bed then he will seek out a replacement. A mortal who will entertain him. It’s time to test the mettle of these millennials. Time to make this modern mortal feel the will of the gods she’s so interested in.

Warnings: Adult Situations, +18 only no minors, Implied rape, Implied slavery, Implied Sex/sexual violence, Dark Fic, Dark! Geralt Zeus, AU Greek Gods, Swearing, Violence, Anxiety, Angst, Sexist Themes, Obsessive Character, Power Abuse, Stalking, Assault.

THIS IS DARK! BASED ON THE ZEUS FROM  ACTUALL MYTHOLOGY NOT CARTOON PORTRAYLS. IF YOU DON’T LIKE DARK SEXUAL THEMES OR STALKER/KIDNAP THEMES DO NOT PROCEED!!

A/N: so, I challenged myself here, I wanted to do another Greek god AU but in our time, so its god au but not as you know it? I mean it was difficult but I’m pleased with it. There is once again quite a few references to various mythology and Greek symbolism. This chapter more sets the scene , there is not actually smut in this one but I hope you all like it anyway.

Zeus let out a long sigh as he sat on the steps of his Olympus palace his bare feet hanging over the sheer drop that led straight down to the mortal realm. He peered over the edge honing his vision watching as the little mortals scuttled about rushing to and fro, their huge flying contraptions interrupting his clear view now and then. Time had become a commodity, in the past two centuries the humans world had become a completely different place. Electricity, transport the internet! Everything about their way of life was convenient, they thought themselves gods! Masters of their own fate. He scoffed, they had forgotten much yet still visited the shrines and paid homage so he couldn't complain, he actually received worship and prayer from outside his own kingdom. Wandering humans, they called themselves tourists. Zeus called them lost.

They arrived in groups took photographs; illustrations, made childish comments about the anatomy on the statues and left giggling and happy. As technology took hold, he avoided visiting fair maidens on earth, he thought it unwise to let the humans of present see his godly form. They wouldn’t be able to stand it, it would ruin them. Just as Ares influence had ruined them.

Or perhaps it was Pandora's doing? He huffed a laugh to himself. Yes, that had been fun. Cursing the poor child with a thirst for knowledge then teaseing her with the box. He knew it was a temptation too far and she'd eventually open it realising all that darkness. He hummed leaning further crouching resting he crossed arms on his knees. Yes, it was probably the darkness of the box that seeped into man, war was inevitable. The god king couldn’t blame his son- Ares may be the god of war but war had been a product of humans. It wasn’t the boys fault the humans tore one another to pieces and made the war god more and more powerful.

Zeus sneered, lip curling up in irritation. The boy best not get too big for his boots though. There was only room for one king of the gods and he'd protect his place on the top no matter what. He had rid himself of his father, the titans hades was less of a threat now that he was happily ruling the underworld with his mortal. Zeus had even devoured his first wife Metis to keep their child from growing and overpowering him. Zeus had nothing against removing Ares should he become a threat, Artemis too.

He sighed again flicking his feet. Since backing away from humanity Olympus had become very boring, he only had his wife to amuse himself. And she was not amused a single bit by the way he pursued her now, settling for her because he had no other options. Hera, he had realised held grudges and was still annoyed about all his dalliances refusing to lie with him, they didn’t even share bed chambers anymore! Not that it stopped him. When he wanted her, he took her, she was his wife and will serve him as he wanted whether willing or otherwise.

Yet even those releases were no longer satisfying him. She no longer snipped or fought, instead laying there motionless letting him possess her as he wished. Apart from that he never saw her, she wallowed in her rooms haunting them like a bound spirit. Zeus was toying with the idea of putting her out of her misery, or atleast banishing her to the underworld for hades to deal with.

If his wife no longer satisfied his need what good was, she? Why should he keep her and put up with all the nonsensical pouting, he made her a queen wasn’t that enough for her?

Alas he had not yet dealt with her, Zeus just didn’t have the energy to smite the bitter goddess. Even though he was bored, he just wanted some spice! Grit! He wanted the thrill of the chase and some resistance; he needed to seduce and corrupt. He needed a new conquest. A new consort. A fiery one at that, and he was beginning to realise he would not find that on Olympus.

He stared longingly into the mortal realm. He wanted one. He wanted a pet to ravish and toy with, to gift his seed and force another demigod into existence. He needed something to occupy himself with. But it had been soo long, none would belive him if he did go and announce himself and it wasn’t like he could bring one home-

Zeus paused every muscle in his body stiffening. That was a thought. Capturing and taming a feisty human? There was no doubt it was possible for him to do it. He was Zeus! King of the gods, all powerful! If mortals could be bound to the underworld, then they could be bound to Olympus, to him. He would have to bestow eternal youth and if they were a good obedient pet and kept him entertained, he'd consider giving them true immortality.

With a devilish grin he rose standing tall amber eyes locking on the temple that was full of these lost humans. His grin grew wider and cock twitched. A fresh little quim to ravage sounded like the perfect distraction. Without even taking a moment to pause he leapt from the stairs into the free fall and transformed into his Eagle diving down plummeting to earth with only one goal in mind.

Find a fiery woman with a deep cunt to steal.

♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈

You moved with the group leaving the pantheon and you were thankful for it. As amazing as this trip was you may have underestimated just how hot Greece got in the middle of the summer. A little too hot for a tiny brit like yourself, but despite the brutal heat you were enjoying the trip of a lifetime.

You huffed sitting in the shade dragging your water bottle from you bag. Ugh warm. The reusable ice stick worked at home in the 28°c summer but here didn’t do diddly squat. Still, you sipped the strawberry flavoured water only cringing slightly as the warm fruity taste resembled unsweetened fruit tea rather than a refreshing drink. You cast a glance over the small tour group you'd came with. Most were couples, the odd honeymooning newlyweds the rest younger. You wouldn’t be surprized if this trip was the grandiose engagement trip. They looked like they came from money and could afford to come out here and pop the question. You scoffed, even the oap's were all loved up out here.

You saw the appeal, Greece was beautiful. A paradise and any romantic couple would appreciate the seductive air of the country. Stunning vistas and a history chock full of sexual myths and tales. The art on every street corner reminding you of the ancient provocative tales. You wasn’t bitter per say, or you hadn’t been but the stares from the group had irked you. All eyeing you pitifully as if you were some poor lonely spinster just because you were here alone.

You were here for some inspiration! You should have thought through your latest book idea before suggesting it to your agent. The idea of the ancient gods having mortal vessels whose job was to bring about the age of gods and demigods again. Yes, it'd been a unique idea, brilliant all the while it was rolling off your tongue in a last ditch attempt for some extra income. Then when your publisher decided to go for it you realised you hadn’t known as much as you thought and had to tread carefully. Warning of  'this is people's culture you have to be mindful' finally bringing home the seriousness of your little book idea.

So here you were, out in Greece to experience the ruins firsthand. To immerse yourself in mythology and lore so you don’t offend anyone and get a fucking lawsuit thrown at you. You swallowed a few more mouthfuls of your drink determined to fend off dehydration, then pulled out the small leather note pad.

You quickly began jotting down a few lines, thoughts and observations as you were here in the moment. The pen scratching across the page and scribbling a few doodles from the scenery. Then growled as you heard the tell-tale whispers from some of the others in your group. Pitying words of the lone singleton in Greece. You rolled your eyes quickly casting a look and low behold it the American was stealing glances at you again. Stefany whispering to her new husband about you always having your nose in your 'journal'. You sighed shaking your head before turning back to your work. Morons.

The trip itself was amazing, but the bozo's you were with were all terribly annoying. It probably didn’t help that they were all talking out their asses. Only yesterday did you finally shut the clueless woman up after a week of listening to her try to explain Greek mythology to you- who had been reading up on it before even stepping onto the plane. No Stefany hades is not Satan nor can you simplify him as 'the devil' you uneducated fuck knuckle!

Okay so you didn’t out right call her a fuck knuckle but you could have. She irritated you and you couldn’t wait for her to leave! You were out here for three months so thankfully wouldn’t have to endure her for the whole trip. But until then you had decided to keep as much distance as you could between you and her... and the group as a whole. You wasn’t here for a jolly or to make friends, you were here for work and some vitamin D because apparently your too pale.

There was a ripple of awe suddenly as everyone moved into a crowd as some gimmicky show began. You didn’t bother moving, it was too hot and you really couldn’t be bothered besides you saw it last week when you were here the first time... and the second, you don’t think you could stand a third.

You leant back on your hands looking up to the top of the Parthenon tipping your head back to peak at the top. It was awe inspiring, you knew from previous research that the columns would have been inlaid with gold and jewels even some glass. The Greeks had the right of it, making stunning buildings that shimmered in the glorious sunup here. Shame it was all left to ruin, but then again it was what? 2000 years old? So, it wasn’t doing too bad for its age.

You looked up to the sky still determined to drown out the god-awful tourist show that drew the masses. I mean if they were going to put on a show atleast do it in the Dionysus theatre. You know where shows belonged?

♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈

You scoffed and then squinted as something appeared seemingly out of thin air. You followed the spec frowning as the tiny dot moved gracefully. You concentrated on it only to hiss and close your eyes as whatever it was darted in front of the sun, you rubbed your eyes and then quickly shielded them from the sun searching to the spec. Was that an Eagle? You swore to yourself tipping your head, you were no expert bird watcher but that was a pretty big tweedy pie. Your eyes followed the bird watching it glide in circles over the ruin. You eyed it curiously, as it perched ontop of the temple ruin, it turned its head to the side eyeing the media circus ruffling its feathers in what appeared to be displeasure.

"Not impressed huh Zeus?" You asked chuckling to yourself at the little joke. You froze as the bird twisted cocking its head around and looked in your direction instantly, pinning you with a look as if it had heard you. It turned faceing you fully smoothing its feathers down and stared.

It unnerved you the way the bird held your gaze intelligently. Tilting its head again one beady eye appraising you. For a moment you thought it was going to swoop down and try its luck and steal your bag or something, like the monkeys did in other countries... Did Athens have a scavenging eagle problem? There wasn’t anything in the brochure but you doubted those issues would be. Being dive bombed by huge Dino-bird didn’t sound appealing.

You stared at the bird deciding to slowly reach for your phone to snap a picture, the coincidence of 'Zeus' bird eyeing you after your jest wasn't lost on you, it'd be funnier had this happened at the big man’s temple. You lifted your phone focusing on the bird only for into take off and disappear out of sight. 'Fucking thing!' You cursed under your breath again missing the chance of yet another cool photo. You really were shit at this whole tourist gig.

"They rarely stay for a photo" you yelped all but jumping out of your skin at the purr from beside you. You slapped your phone to your thigh as you almost dropped it. And craned your head up to see a huge man. Bigger than any you’d ever seen! He must have been 6'3 6'4 with wide shoulders barrelled chest and slim waist, the epitome of a Dorito physique. You frowned but spoke not wanting to be impolite.

"I noticed" you spoke, voice uncertain you were wary. He was giant and had somehow snuck up on you? You wasn’t a super aware person, but it was rare for someone to get so close without you noticing... especially someone soo large.

"So, did I. You’d rather bird watch then see the little... dance? Is that dancing? I'm unsure" he drawled casting a severe look to the show brows furrowing giving him a fierce unforgiving look. Dark. Too dark. But as quickly as it was there the offended look vanished and he brought his gaze back to you.

"Yeah, well I didn’t trudge all the way up that steep hill for the birds, but a huge ass eagle buzzing about the Parthenon? That’s more Greek culture than whatever the hell that is?" You said tearing your gaze away to nod to the show? dance? Pantomime? You wasn’t sure. But it only took moments to look back at the male before you, you couldn’t help staring at him. You tried not to but? Something about him was off, making your skin prickle. It wasn’t just the terrible silver dye job on the long shoulder length hair or the equally shitty creepy contact lenses but he was wearing black, in this heat? Like it was nothing! And even if he was used to this climate wouldn’t he be tanned? He didn’t look like a tourist yet he was pale overall he was odd. Too odd.

"Then you know of Zeus?" He purred tilting his head to the side fighting a smile, he seemed cocky like he was laughing at you but there was more to it. It got your goat.

"Who doesn't? The dude was the biggest scariest fuck boi of the ancient world" you snipped crossing your arms feeling more irritated by his presence more than anything. You couldn’t help feel smug as he faltered grunting, a twitch of his lip giving you the small victory you needed to feel more in control of the situation.

"Well, I wouldn't word it like that but he's... insatiable" the man purred eyes becoming dazed, a far off look in the amber orbs wide tongue wetting his lip comeing back to his senses eyeing you up and down like meat. Your confidence dropped and you got the feeling you were in danger, but even as the fear doused  every bone in your body with its icy grip you snapped back. Feeling like a wild animal being slowly backed into a corner.

"That’s a pretty strange way to say sexual predator but okay" you said with a dull tone. The strangers face fell his jaw locked for a moment the frightening rage crossed his features again, nostrils flaring only to relax once more into a frankly disturbing smile. He looked cunning; you didn’t like it at all. This man wasn’t normal. There was too much of? Something?!

He gave you the creeps, it was probably just the freaky combination of orange eyes and silver hair but you just needed to get away from him. Now. You rose from the ground pressing your phone in your hand tightly and began gathering your little notebook and drink bottle. You just had the need to merge with the crowd and disappear. A safety in numbers deal.

"Your making notes? Are you a scholar?" He said stepping closer than you would have liked, towering over you making your draw in a deep fearful breath. The dread you felt now a deep terror in your bones willing you to run and hide. But somehow you couldn’t help thinking it would do no good.

"No, far from it, just... documenting the trip myths and legends and all that" you hinted trying to give just enough information to satisfy his curiosity and stop the conversation all together so you could haul ass out of there.

"Would you like help? I’m knowledgeable" he hummed staring through you, the golden eyes were unsettling , your pretty sure he hadn't blinked once since popping up at out god knows where.

"No, your alright-" you stepped back almost slipping over a block you hadn’t known was there. In fact, you were certain it hadn’t been, your ass had just been on the dirt moments ago!

"Carful wouldn’t want you to hurt yourself... there we go little woman" he was quick to grasp you, stopping you from tumbling to the ground by holding you close, your breasts almost brushing his abdomen. Your body shivered as his hands touched you, the absolute horror was like nothing you'd never felt. Your need to run and hide becoming more a terror fuelled escape, you wanted to bolt like a spooked horse. Before you could cuss him out and remind him to keep his mitts to himself, he spoke again.

"Ask me anything, I have all the answers you could dream- stories you couldn’t even begin to understand" his voice held a laugh, like he had some inside joke. Once again pushing your buttons.

"Well, ain’t you full of yourself?" You sneered slapping his hands away and twisted away from him. Only for him to grasp your bicep and yank you back towards him.

"I know everything you could possibly think of asking" he purred into the crown of your hair, the  drew in a deep breath groaning as he did.

"Well good for you, now fuck off" you snarled bringing your foot up for a well-aimed nut shot. But the male chuckled snapping his thighs shut capturing the leg in a warm vice.

♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈

Instantly you grunted and tugged, trying to free yourself but the man coiled around you like a snake. His arms holding you to himself tightly, immovable. He was much,  much stronger than he had appeared. Which was saying something considering he was clearly a huge well-built man that worked out.

"It has been such a long time since I face such a mortal~ you are a challenge I like that" he groaned nestling his face into your hair drawing deep breaths in. Growling all the while as you quivered and twisted in his hold trying to free yourself.

"Let go of me or I’ll scream" you huffed out in a panic as the chances of you getting away were slim and it was dawning on you that you will need some help to escape this hulking giant of a man.

"You'll do no such thing" his voice hissed, a deep nerve-wracking malice dripping from the words. You made to scream anyway only for the air in your throat to freeze, lungs tightening heavy and full felling as if they were filling with water.

You fought to suck in air eyes wide and hand trying to clench your neck but the man held your arms at your sides. Whining you stopped moving panting only managing to draw in tiny breaths that were hard to exhale.

"Hush, shh my little firecracker. Your safe, all will be well. Everything will be fine as long as you let me bed you" he soothed moving a hand from you to tuck hair behind your ear and then began to pet your hair gently instantly you clutched at your neck. Huffing and panicking, so much you almost missed his words.

"Wh-at?" You wheezed terrified as you struggled to breath, only catching enough breath as not to pass out. He chuckled and ran his nose over your crown once more, his warmth seeping into your back and he held you to him. It was frightening and completely insane!

"Take me to your room, share yourself with me, let me fuck into you tiny fragile body and show you true rapture, I will grant you anything you desire~" he groaned letting his thighs clench around your ankle and arch into you, his groin brushing over the top curve of your bottom.

"Fffuck no" you hissed still struggling gasping and croaking you blinked repeatedly wanting to clear your vision as it began to blur and darken.

"I warn you wench, do not antagonize me. Do as I have commanded, take me to your bed little mortal~." He growled still moving grinding into you holding you still as you teetered on one foot, his huge thick thighs holding your ankle. One of his hands were spread out over your tummy, holding and caressing slow circles making the warmth seep through your clothes and heat your already flashed skin. He moaned a breathy sound into your hair and rocked enthusiastically into your ass. You whined feeling his cock twitch on you back and began to resign yourself to your fate, all hope dwindling as you felt faint. His other hand was still caressing your hair now his hips jerking faster making your body sway with him in a sickening rhythm.

"I-I n-n" you wheezed tears trickling down your face as you began to truly panic fingers clawing at your throat and chest, trying to fight off the tight feeling of your lungs being crushed.

"Oh, pet don’t be like that come on out with it~" his teasing was light despite the situation, the fact he was slowly suffocating you. The way in which he seemed to have all the time in the world, the calm way his words rolled off his tongue. It was frightening on a whole other level. He had done this before. The confidence in his stance and words made that clear.

"F-fuck" you swore more to yourself then him. Your panic rose as the seconds ticked by and your struggle did nothing to stop this monstrous man.

"I do love makeing you mortals breathless, it always gives me a rush. Teasing your frailty with just enough air so you won’t pass out. A glorious desperation. Seductive, enticing. But I do need my answer now, think carefully about whose holding your very existence in their hand." He cooed finding this all humorous. But he had better things in mind. Like sinking into your body and enjoying his first worthwhile fuck in over a millennium.

"Show me to your bed, and I will show you the stars" he purred once more pressing his lips to your hair gently, breathing you in. the panic, fear and hopeless fight of a humans survival instinct desperate to fight for its life. It aroused him; he had missed this.

This was it? This was how you’d go? Passing out and being kidnapped raped and killed? You could only hope he'd kill you; you knew the alternative heard stories of what befell unsuspecting tourists, ending up in the sex industry, trafficked across continents living as a sex slave to anyone who'd pay for a night of fun. No. NO! you refused! You’d fight- with what little strength you had left you'd fight!

"N-no!" Your shout was louder than the man had anticipated whatever voodoo he cast on you slipped and you managed a few gasps of true air before your lung seized up again. And he was snarling at you once more.

"What?" His voice sounded so offended, like you’d just spat in his face. You could only hope you really had annoyed him. That he was offended by your blatant refusal, he didn’t seem to be prepared for your sheer stubbornness.

"D-id I s-stut-ter?" You huffed out past your once again laboured breaths,  tipping your head around to him smirking. You were greeted with a red angered face, golden eyes full of indignation and rage, his jaw locked and brows creased into a deep frown. He looked like a raging bull.

"No" the word was accompanied by a small smug grin on your part. You may still be struggling but you had won a small victory. His hips were no longer moving across your rear end. In fact, he had seemed to freeze entirely apart from the heaving of his chest behind you. Anger simmering in each and every breath.

"You will obey"

"Li-ke f-fuck!"

"Perhaps you have not realised yet. I. Am. Zeus. King of the gods and you will show some respect, worship me! Give yourself to me freely or face the consequences" his mad words and exclamation was little more than a hushed growl, a violent hiss in your ear followed by a swift tug at your hair pressing your head back to his chest as it rumbled with anger.

"Crazy cunt is wha' you are" you laughed but your eyes were looking into the crowd before you, not aware of the situation unfolding behind them. You flicked your gaze back and forth willing someone- anyone to turn around and see your distress and come help.

"You dare to defy me? Defy the will of the gods!" His hot breath burned your ear. The venom of his words drew another humourless laugh from you. Pushing his buttons was a risk, but the angrier these people got the more likely they were to fuck up. And you needed to take that chance, the only way you were getting away from the behemoth brute was if he fucked up. Luck was on your side as he hissed and released your hair throwing your head forward. You took the chance knowing his head was still tipped down to you and brought your head back as hard as you possibly could cracking him right in the nose.

You grunted when your head made contact striking the male in the face. Hard. It hurt you more then you’d thought it would, your eyes even blurred. But it did the trick, suddenly you were released and you staggered forward out of arms reach, spinning to face him. Even though he pulled back you couldn’t help feeling it was more out of shock then the fact you’d struck him.

"Now rev up and fuck off, you crazy hair bleaching contact wearing hippy" you snarled gasping trembling trying to understand just what the fuck that was about. Before he could reply you backed away bag in hand stepping further back not willing to turn your back on him. You’d expected him to chase you and kidnap you or something. Yet he stood tall ghosting a hand over his nose that you’d hoped was bloodied, lithe fingers curved over his chin. And he grinned, beaming at you scoffing before wagging his finger at you playfully, eyes holding a sick type of mirth that made you go cold.

He huffed shaking his head whilst bringing a hand to the bridge of his nose, rubbing it slightly and curling a finger below his nostrils. Sadly, you hadn’t drew blood, you’re not entirely sure how. You almost blacked out from how hard you’d headbutted him, but his nose was intact. He pulled his hand away and wagged a finger at you grinning.

"I shall see you soon y/n. Do behave, I may not be beside you, but I am watching you now mortal... I will collect you soon~" he ended with a small laugh at your face contorting into one of horror and you inched back a few steps.

"You fucking creep" you said shaking  backing up a few more feet before spinning around and bolted to the crowd bag in hand. He didn’t give chase, just watched you scuttle off.

Once you got to the relative safety of the crowd you darted into the mass of bodies. Twisting and turning between the people, trying to weave a maze though. It was only when you caught up to your tour group you were able to breathe easy. But one thing unsettled you. How did he know your name? You never gave it to him. Did you? God that was soo creepy. You chanced a look back in the direction but didn’t see him, instead of finding the tall man with long silver locks your eyes were drawn to the huge bird in the tree above where you’d sat. The eagles golden eyes staring at you unblinkingly, then it cried out a loud call, it felt like a warning.

The sound drew the crowds attention before it dived making some duck and yelp as the bird glided over the crowd shitting on one of the dancers making them stop and yell out before swooping off to the left disappearing out of sight. You giggle along with the others in your group as they chuckled at the dancers complaining. With a final look for your assailant, you breathed a sigh of relief. He was gone.

♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈♈

Zeus chuckled as he arrived at Olympus turning to peak back down at you before he landed. You were the one, he would have years of fun with you before you got boring, maybe there was something to these new... Millennials. You were certainly feisty.

He grinned and walked through the palace, heading straight to the dining hall with a grin on his face. Scheming already, he had the perfect punishment for such an unruly mortal. He just had to command a few gods to do his bidding. Then he would have you here, his own pet. A mortal cunt in Olympus just for him.

"Eros, I have need of you~" Zeus' voice carried from the door like thunder silencing the room. All those in the hall ceased their conversations as the king strode in past the huge table. All eyes moved to the god of carnal love. Hera snapped her gaze from eros to Zeus and back worry striking her,  was he going to make eros intervenes with her? Make her crave her husband once more?

"My king?" Eros called his curled hair pulled from his face and blue eyes trying to read his kings mood. But it was for naught. None but Zeus would ever know what was truly going on inside the god kings head.

Zeus paraded passed all of other Olympians, a spring in his step not even glancing at them, paying no heed to the looks he garnered as he crossed the room in human attire.  He took his seat at the head of the table and began helping himself to the food as he spoke with a smile non had seen for an age.

"Yes, there is a mortal. I wish to... Punish her" his voice carried over the table igniting a rush of whispered. Hera gasped and dropped her cutlery with a loud crash, silencing the murmurs.

"Punish a mortal?" Eros asked with a smirk, wiping over his beard with a napkin fighting a grin. It had been too long since he had interfered with the mortals. Lust was so rife in the mortal realm now with the sexual liberation in the past few centuries he'd not had to torment them.

"Yes. A female, ornery mare of a woman she refused me in... the most extraordinary way." Zeus explained with a smile as he began to eat. The table came to life once more gossiping, this confirmed the rumours. Zeus was unhappy again, Hera was out of favour and the king will once again wander, go as far as to seek out a human.

"Husband why would you seek out a mortal?" Hera asked quietly leaning forward placing a hand on Zeus' arm. He simply glanced at her hand as he finished his mouthful, then glanced at her face holding her in his unnerving stare. Then he shook off her hand and continued eating letting the hall fall into judgemental silence.  

Hera remained still watching him, pleading with her eyes begging for an answer. Wanting this to just be a trick to humiliate her, a bluff to call her to heel. And she must admit it was working. Suddenly she felt replaceable just as mitis was, like all his lovers were. But still she had hoped she was different; her refusal had granted her more mercy from him when she acted out.

"Because you are so fun Hera? You wander and mope, haunt these halls like a widow! You refuse my advances- my affections try to punish me for my wandering with the belief I will never tire of it?" He finally spoke teasing her cruely, all but laughing at her. She frowned shaking her head trying to find some words to soothe him, change his mind! Save herself this humiliation.  

"No. I cannot stand it. I will not fight you each night and be rewarded with a boring bed mate that lays still and weeps. If you wish to escape my affection then congratulations. You have achieved your goal" he said with a shrug not a care in the world to how he'd just laid out their intimate relations bare. Nameing and shaming her for being a lousy wife that had drove away the most insatiable of beings. Everyone knew Zeus loved sex, any sex forced or not. For him to cast Hera aside because she was that undesirable in the bed chamber was... extremely embarrassing for the goddess.

"Husband I? I did not- I was merely hurt by your affairs I love you-" she tried holding back her panic as she felt her world crumbling around her. First it was a lover, then a child before she knew it, she could be killed and replaced!

Zeus smiled at her sardonically. Eyes harsh boring into her with a deep distaste she had not noticed before. It made the goddess shiver. She suddenly got the feeling her days were numbered.

"Then perhaps driving me away was not your best course of action? You had two thousand years to come around. I will wait no longer. I have found a new female. A feisty young mortal who has ignited my heart once more and will take her place in my bed. She will do what you have failed"

"No! Zeus I cannot- will not allow this!" Hera shouted standing up so fast her chair slid back a food few feet from her. The room was I stunned silence watching as Hera their queen stood frozen but shaking as she out right challenged Zeus.

Zeus stood slowly wiping his mouth with a napkin and walked around the side of the table rounding his wife who began to tremble with fear aswell as anger. Fear taking over as Zeus swerved around her and paused at her chair. Then with a mighty show of force he kicked it into her legs. The wood hit her knees and she yelped crumpling into the seat and hung her head.

The small ,act had been enough to show everyone just where she now stood... or sat. And it was below him. He had belittled her here in front of her own people, her own children. But he wasn’t finished. He moved to stand behind her and rested a hand on her back before leaning over her, crushing her under his weight as he reached out for the pitcher of wine before her and began hissing words out at her head the fury in his voice enough to make even Ares and Artemis tremble. They had not seen their father so angry before, not even they would cross him when in this mood.

"You allow nothing, because you are nothing. Nothing but a bitter, empty used up wench. I shall do as I please when I please and you will keep these tantrums to yourself release your own bitter anger in your own company in your own rooms, lest I unleash mine on you" he threatened and waited for a slight docile nod before he stood tall again taking the innocent pitcher of wine back to his seat and pouring himself a glass.

"W-will you return to the mortal realm for her? As you did before" Hera spoke demurely eyes cast down in her lap as her mind reeled. She'd never been so close to feeling the wrath of her husband before.  It was sobering, tears began trickling down her face as she realised, she had truly lost him this time and only had herself to blame.

"That is none of your business- my new mistress is nothing to concern yourself with. In fact wife, I think it would be in your best interest to forget my new conquest, she will bear the burden your refuse and warm my bed, day and night." Zeus boasted twisting the knife into the already open salted wound. He was revelling in this. Hera had displeased him for far too long, now she would see the error of her ways and endure what he has decided.

The spiteful bitches hate would be doused, he will pull the rug from under her just to watch the bruises mottle her skin. She may belive herself to be spiteful, but she forgets Zeus was out right monstrous when he wanted to be, vicious, cunning and all powerful. And now she was at his mercy. She will beg to lie with him but he will refuse he no longer covoted her as he once did.

"So do smile Hera. For you have what you want. You are now free from your wifely duty. Never again will you be joined in your chambers at night. A you will never have to endure a man’s lust from now until your dying day" he chuckled raising a glass to his disgraced wife in a toast. The mortified goddess looked up to see the vindictive smile upon her husband’s face as he drank to her despair.

"For I may have found a fresh mortal cunt to plunder but you are still my wife. And should anyone think to have you? Well, I shan’t take to kindly to it" his final decree was one of pure spite. He was making it known she would suffer abstinence,  betrayal,  adultery and possibly another bastard. That she will be replaced by a mere mortal. And she will never be free.

"You know I believe I will take my meal out on the balcony..." Zeus decided and stood once more this time lifting his plate and wine before stepping around the table once more. He paused as Hera began rising with her own, clearly hoping he would allow her a private dinner to discuss things. Little did she know there was nothing ,ore to discuss. He had no time for her weeping and mindless panicked pleas.

"Alone Hera, surely you do not think I wish to be alone with you in my chambers? I never wish for you to enter my bedchambers again. You have no place there" he ordered crushing the goddess more so than before, then laughed as she bit her lip trying not to weep at the utter humiliation of being discarded so thoroughly and publicly. Zeus smirked wider and then he turned to Eros.

"Eros. As I said, I need your skills. I will speak with you after your meal. Seek me out when you are finished" he insisted rubbing salt into Hera's the wound. Inviting another to his chamber just after barring her. His wife.

"Of course, I shall be there momentarily my king" Eros replied with a low tip of his head. Zeus smiled like a Cheshire cat and spun exiting to dining hall pleased with how his day had turned out. The sweet sound of his wife’s quiet sobs echoing the halls of his palace. He may have been cruel, but two thousand years of spiteful refusal and frustratingly poor sex had led to this moment. Hera would now spend the rest of her days regretting trying to punish him, him! Zeus the king of the gods?!

She will rue the day she thought she was above him. The day she sought to teach him a lesson. She should have known the day would come when he would turn the tables and punish her. He just never anticipated this victory would taste so sweet.

[dreamsmp-au-ideas]

*insert Marge Simpson saying Could you kids lighten up a bit?*

Not to harsh your guys's mood if you're enjoying the angst! Feel free to ignore this! But this au does still have some opportunities for fluff!

Las Nevadas is not just Quackity, for one!! He spent this whole stream trying to recruit more folks! And granted, the most mentally stable one said no, but Foolish might still visit to check in! Or to demand answers from Quackity! And if he comes and sees a miserable manipulated minor, especially if he's able to recognize that Quackity was trying to manipulate him too, he could totally step in and do something! At best, he offers Purpled a healthier place to stay and uses his godly knowledge to help him get back home - at the very least, he's someone else who knows what's going on and can help!

Fundy, Charlie, any of the many tourists Quackity is going to encourage because Las Nevadas is a business that's meant to profit from many people coming and spending their money, Purpled is not gonna be alone in this!

Bonding. It is time for bonding between all of them. Hurt/comfort between those guys. Purpled is going to not be isolated!

[socialwriter]

Circles

*Not my gif, credit to original post*

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Female Reader

Summary: You meet the blonde surfer boy you’re meant to spend the rest of your life with

TW: Cursing, my inadequate knowledge of surfing, underage drinking, smoking 

1.7K words

A/N: @kindapinkskies​ and I apparently both love soulmate AUs so I wrote this oops.

Ever since the age of thirteen, you had had the tattoo of a small circle on your hip bone that matched your soulmate's somewhere in the world. Middle school girls would gush over their dream soulmates and the beautiful tattoos that graced their bodies, whereas of course you had no godly idea what your soulmate even looked like and your tattoo was a fucking circle. How lucky were you?

You see, you aren’t able to see any other person’s soulmate tattoo until you grow to love them, whether it be platonic, familial, or romantic. Scientists thought that it was so that everyone would be more experienced in love by the time that they actually met their soulmate. You thought that it was a way to simply torture you with the what ifs and not knowing if the guy who you’d just gone on a miserable date with also had that little circle on hip. 

Recently, you and your mother had moved to the Outer Banks, and she was convinced that this would be where your so-called soulmate would find you and you would live happily ever after. You, however, were not convinced. It had already been a week and you had yet to make a friend in town. It's not like you didn’t try, it's just that everyone that you came across was either busy working or a pompous asshole that stuck their nose up at you. So here you were, day 7 of wandering aimlessly around the Outer Banks, hoping that someone would take notice of the lost puppy dog look on your face. No luck, however, so you decided to grab a bite to eat since it was a little bit before noon and your stomach had started grumbling about ten minutes ago. 

You decided to stop at a place called ‘The Wreck’. If what you’d heard from casual conversations around the island was true, then your meal here should be at least halfway decent. You enter an almost entirely empty restaurant, given it was just before the lunch rush. You ding the bell at the hostess desk, causing one of the girls in a group of teenagers around your age sitting at the back of the restaurant to stand and approach you. “Hi, welcome to The Wreck. How can I help you?”

You give the girl a small smile, she seemed pretty nice. “I, um, I was just stopping by for a bite to eat. I’m starved.” You tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear, suddenly aware of the fact of how sad it was that you were here to eat alone. 

“You a touron?” She questions, causing you to give her a very confused look. 

“I’m sorry, a who now?”

She chuckles, shaking her head. “That’s what we call the tourists around here. So, you visiting?” She asks. You make an ‘o’ shape with your mouth at her explanation before shaking your head. “No, me and my mom just moved here about a week ago, so I just don’t really know anyone on the island or anything about it.” You explain.

She nods, a smile beginning to grow on her lips. “Well why don’t you hang out with me and my friends.” She gestured over to three guys and a girl sitting in the back, already watching. You send them an awkward wave, which some of them reciprocate. “That would actually be really nice …” You pause, realizing that you didn’t even know this girl’s name.

  “Kiara. Carrera. But everyone just calls me Kie.” She informs you, holding out your hand for her to shake.

“Y/n L/n.”  You tell her, shaking her hand before she leads you over to her friends.

“Guys, this is Y/n L/n. Y/n, this is Pope, JJ, John B, and Sarah.” She says, introducing each one of her friends, pulling up a chair for you before quickly going to grab you a bite to eat.

You suddenly felt very awkward under the eyes of these four strangers, willing yourself to disappear before Sarah decides to start up a conversation with you. “So, Y/n, did you just move here?” She questions. You appreciate her attempt at small talk. 

Nodding, you tell her “Yeah, my mom and I just moved here like a week ago. We used to live on the mainland but she got a job offer we couldn’t refuse, so we moved to the Cut and now here I am.”

“Sweet, you’re a pogue.” One of the boys, you think his name was Pope, said. Before you could question him on what a pogue actually was (you were guessing there was more weird slang that you would have to learn), but before you could, the blonde, JJ you thought, spoke up. 

“So you surf?” He questioned, leaning forward. You had to admit, he was pretty attractive, his blonde hair tousled in a perfectly imperfect way and his blue eyes seemingly piercing into your soul. You shake your head, never having the opportunity to learn. You answer seems to disappoint JJ, causing him to deflate and mumble “disappointing” under his breath, which earns him a whack on the back of the head by the third boy, John B. “Be nice.”

Kie then returns with some french fries and a sandwich for you to munch on, and the conversation moves on to something about a boat.

---

After the not so good first impression with JJ, the blonde had apologized to you and insisted that he be the one to teach you how to surf. While his apology seemed genuine, you were still slightly terrified of surfing. However, JJ assured you that it wasn’t nearly as dangerous or terrifying as you thought, and promised to be with you every step of the way.

He taught you how to swim out to the waves, when the perfect time to get up was, and which waves were a no-go for a beginner like you. Eventually, he had convinced you to actually take a spare board that John B had and go into the water, waiting until a wave that you could ride actually came along. He yelled at you from the shore to go for it, giving you a thumbs up and cheering you on while you nervously rode the wave. At the end, you smiled to yourself, loving the pump of adrenaline that came with surfing. You swam back to shore, squealing and pulling JJ into a hug, which he reciprocated with a chuckle. “I did it!!” You exclaimed, excited by your success.

JJ pulled back from the hug, smiling. “Told ya you could, I am the best surfing instructor you’d be able to get after all,” he said with a smirk, causing you to playfully shove his shoulder and roll your eyes. Something about JJ just felt right, like the two of you meshed together. You were two pieces of the same puzzle, and this feeling only continued to grow the closer you got over the coming weeks. 

---

Sarah had insisted before your outing on the HSM Pogue the next day that you, her, and Kie have a girls night at her place. So here you were, up at 2 am, talking about nothing before the topic of soulmates inevitably comes up. Sarah tells you that her and John B had had a long love hate relationship before eventually getting together and discovering that they were soulmates. You had figured as much, if the subtle PDA and looks they’d sent each other at The Wreck earlier were anything to off of. Kie, similar to you, hadn’t found her soulmate, but told you that she was actively looking for them like you. “So what does your tatto look like Y/n? Where is it?” Sarah questioned, shifting on her bed which she was currently laying on.

“Oh, mines so stupid. Its a little circle, right here on my hipbone,” you said, pointing at the tattoo that you didn’t even know if they could see yet. At your description, however, the smiles on Kie and Sarah’s faces falter, both girls tensing and glancing at one another. “What, is that like a bad omen or something that I don’t know about?” You question, nervous by their reaction. 

Kie awkwardly laughs it off, shaking her head at you. “No,no, its nothing bad. Just, I think you might find out who your soulmate is sooner than later.” She states, causing your brows to furrow. But she drops the subject quickly, and you don’t question her on it for the rest of the night.

---

All six of you were on the HMS Pogue goofing around. After Sarah and Kie had pulled John B and Pope off to the side before getting on the boat, the four had been treating you and JJ a little odd. You just brushed it off, thinking that you were just imagining the change in attitude. You were currently sipping a beer, resting your head on JJ’s shoulder while he smoked some weed. When you had finished, you stood looking at the rest of the group. “Anyone else in the mood for a swim?” You questioned, already pulling off your t-shirt to reveal a bikini underneath. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna dri-” JJ starts, dropping the newly opened beer in his hand when he looks at you. You look at him like he’s crazy, shuffling your feet to avoid them getting covered beer. “JJ, what the fuck!” you groan in annoyance, but he seems to not notice the mess he’s made, eyes fixated on your stomach. Everyone else looked on with knowing expressions, but no one dared say anything. 

“Is no one going to clean up this mess but me?” You question, looking at every like they’ve gone insane. JJ moves to pull his shirt off, and you can’t help but roll your eyes. “J, we are not cleaning up the beer with your shirt,” you tell him, giving him a look. 

“No, I..” he points to his hip. At the small circle tattoo that matches yours. Your eyes widen, and you look up at him, a silent conversation seemingly happening between the two of you. This boy, the one who you’d grown so close to, who you’d felt so complete with, was your soulmate. Suddenly everything became clearer, like your life had just started making sense. Knowing it was him, provided you with a sense of clarity.

You both slowly approached each other and JJ gingerly grabbed your hand, running him thumb over your knuckles. “Hi.” You said softly, a smile forming on your lips.

“Hi.”

[ausp-ice]

Concept art for the DBH Spirit Deity AU, featuring Nines and Connor! I got on a voice chat with Noktys (from the DBH New Era server) and we chatted while I shared my screen and drew them. Noktys has a liking for the floof and I have a liking for the glow and flow, so best of both! 

Info about the AU below the cut.

- Connor and Nines are spirit deities. They used to be alive but died and came back as these entities, forms drastically changed. - Rabbit ears. - They have experienced some form of worship; there are statues. If you touch Nines's ears, you have a very high likelihood of being cursed (unless you have his favor? In which case you might be Aight) - Nines is also very floofy, but he hides it under his cloak. He has an Impression™️ to make. - Nines really really likes ear scritches. Only Connor is Allowed. (for now?) - The two of them have cuddle piles.

Some vague storyline thoughts that we haven’t ironed out all that much:

- Connor and Nines were members of an ancient civilization, possibly used as sacrifices against their will. They died, and were granted life as spirit deities. Maybe another godly force bestowed it upon them. - They existed in limbo for a bit, drifting in and out of reality, occasionally slipping into the physical world where people could see them, and then belief took root. With that belief, they were able to influence reality - they had power already, but belief lets them use it, lets them interact with the world. - They were worshipped. Statues, temples built in their honor. - The civilization falls, at some point. Maybe a combination of something causing their people to lose faith, lowering their ability to influence the world, and then another force ravaging through the civilization. - They fade from reality, until years later, their ancient city is discovered. The temples are studied, statues extracted. Maybe it becomes a tourist site? And then Hank and Gavin visit at some point, for whatever reason. Maybe one or both of them have a superstitious background, more willing to believe things. - Maybe Gavin prays that the old gods found peace or something. - I like the idea of... Connor and Nines being pulled from their limbo, thrown into reality with physical bodies and spotty memories, with only a some mysteriously high-quality robes to preserve their dignity. Gavin and Hank, as cops, try to find where they came from, but they just don't say anything and are probably also confused. - Connor grabs Hank's head at some point, pressing thumbs to his forehead, and that's how he learns English hgffg he probably transfers it to Nines, too - They're injured at some point - Nines bleeds a glowing blue-silver and Connor bleeds molten gold - Somehow they remember things and return to their godly forms, but maybe they just stay with Dad Hank because he and Gavin are the ones to believe in them now

[jimlingss]

The Colour of Our Voices [1]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 1.5 OR Chapter 2

➜ Words: 3.3k

➜ Genres: 98% Fluff, 2% Angst, Slice of Life, Broadway!AU

➜ Summary: He wasn’t supposed to hear. He wasn't supposed to know. But the instant Jimin came into your life and pulled the curtains back, you couldn't hide backstage anymore. You were no longer merely a phantom of the opera.

➜ Notes: I’m so excited to finally share this series. I’m pretty satisfied with how it turned out, so get ready for a rollercoaster, y’all.

cr.

The moving truck wakes you.   It’s deafening. You can hear the slow ‘beep, beep, beep’ of the vehicle backing up. With one eye open, you grab your phone to check the time. It’s ten minutes before your alarm.

You begrudgingly rise, getting ready for the day and humming while you brush your teeth to warm up your throat. You change your clothes, then eat cereal in silence at your kitchen counter. Once you’re ready, you leave. But not two steps out your door are you clumsily tripping over a cardboard box.   You make sure not to scream too loudly in case you draw attention. So with a muffled sound and your ankle throbbing at how it was twisted, you stand again.    Someone’s moving in next door.   There are messy boxes littering the hall, the door wide open, and from what you can see inside, the living space is empty. But you don’t dwell, making your own way down the hall to the stairwell.   The timing is poor. By mere seconds, you miss the brunette boy sticking his head out the door with pouty lips and cute eyes, peeking down the hall to catch your retreating form.   You limp to the station and as your shitty luck would have it, the train becomes delayed while you’re squished in the middle cart that’s packed like sweaty sardines. It halts suddenly, everyone jolting and you flinch when someone stomps on your right foot by accident.   There’s no apology.    “Hey, watch it,” the man beside you grumbles and you’re pushed again, at least with your foot free this time and throbbing inside of your worn shoe.   “S-sorry.”   The delay makes you late by the time you arrive in Time Square. You run through the street, shouting more apologies as you dive through the busy crowds and tourist groups. Once you make it to New 42nd Street Studios, you sprint down the stairs to the basement of the building. You nearly trip and tumble downwards to your death, but you catch yourself on the sticky railing.   It’s three minutes past nine o’clock.   “You’re late.”   “I’m sorry.”   “Sorry doesn’t make you earlier.”   The director sighs and rolls his eyes. He turns away from you and claps his hands together, scanning the rest of the bustling crew. “Today’s the day folks! We have dress rehearsal and then the show begins at six sharp! It’s showtime! So let’s get moving. You there, intern, go get coffee. And try not to be late this time.”   “Y-yes, sir.”   Up the stairs you go again. It seems like you’re always running, whether it’s for this job or to this job. But you quickly remind yourself that it’s a privilege to be here. Years ago, you would’ve cried tears of happiness if you knew you’d be on the production team of Phantom of the Opera.   Of course, you would’ve assumed you were performing. But being an intern was good enough. Everyone had to start somewhere.   “Hi, can I get ten americanos, six iced and four hot, three chai tea lattes, four vanilla lattes, three espressos, seven cappuccinos, and a green tea?”   The barista runs the company card into the side of her screen and then her eyes flicker up at you. “Sorry, it keeps saying declined. Do you have another method of payment?”   “O-oh. Sorry about that.” You end up paying out of your own pocket for the drinks. There’s no point in telling the director the company card failed — he’ll find some excuse to pin the blame on you, and it’s a small problem not worth the trouble.   You run back while balancing the plastic bags and cup holders in your hands, trying not to spill any of them. Once arrived, you hand them out to the crew members, actors, and actresses.   “Intern! What’s this?!” The director approaches and sighs. You prepare yourself, already reading that expression on his face. “I said six hot and four iced americanos. You got the order wrong!”   You bow your head. “S-sorry, my apologies.”    “You and your apologies!” His teeth are gritted, face reddened in anger. “Apologies doesn’t make my americano hot does it?!”   “I can go get another one if you need—”   “Don’t waste my time more than you already have.” He waves you off, sighing, and you’re left to drown in the humiliation as the others around you snicker underneath their breaths.    You release the air held in your throat and you narrow your eyes sharply into his backside as he walks away from you. You hold your tongue, reminding yourself that being here is a privilege.   //   The curtains draw.   There’s bated breath held in the audience, a certain sense of anticipation that builds the suspense until everyone’s on the edge of their seats. The lair is shown, mist spiraling on the floor, candles all around. The phantom with his cloak and half-mask sits at the organ.   Christine is enchanted, walking closer towards him slowly like she’s been bewitched by a spell.   The actor recites his lines, and then the music begins.    “Night time sharpens, heightens each sensation.” It’s a baritone voice, rich and seductive, but still sweet. “Darkness wakes and stirs imagination. Silently the senses abandon their defenses.”    The violin strings pull as if echoing after the voice.   You hold the microphone to your lips, singing and pulling the notes from deep in your stomach. The mic has been moved down several pitches to match the baritone vocal range that you wouldn’t be able to reach on your own, but the tone is rich and believable to be of the actor’s.   After all, one of the biggest efforts the director made was to be able to pull this off.   “.....the darkness of the music of the night.” Your eyes are shut, headphones on and you press the left side closer down to your ear, drowning in the lovely instrumental. “Let your mind start a journey to a strange new world. Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before. Let your soul take you where you long to be.”   The note is belted out, streaming out from your lips like silk. And when it’s over, you grin. It’s thrilling, a kind of pride blooming inside your chest that’s rare for you to experience. Even if you’ve done it so many times, it never fails to bring you delight — you’re unable to believe that you actually did it.   Once the song is complete, there’s thunderous applause.   A smile spreads into your cheeks, one that’s infectious but no one sees when you’re hidden behind the curtain. And had you been standing on the stage in the spotlight, you might’ve noticed the brunette boy with pouty lips and cute eyes amidst the crowd.   He’s become enraptured by your voice. He’s enchanted, heart stuttering, speechless beyond words. This was the voice he was waiting for. This was it.   The show eventually comes to a close and everyone holds hands to bow to the audience. You peek out from backstage to watch the curtains being brought down.    “Good job everyone. Nice job crew. Taeyeon, beautiful job as Christine once again. You were lovely, darling. Your sound is like melted caramel.” The director continues with his praises, and the other girls playing more minor roles flock to Taeyeon’s side to also shower her with compliments. The whole gathering parade themselves into the dressing room, brushing right past you. “Oh, yes, there’s the star of our show! Kim Seokjin, you never cease to amaze me! Beautiful job as Phantom!”   “Of course.” Seokjin grins, charismatic and charming as always. “You shouldn’t expect any less of me. With a face like this, how could I ever fail?!”   There’s bellowing laughter that rings and pierces your eardrums. “You’re right!”   You wait as they come closer.   Your breath is held. Maybe today, you did a good enough job that he’ll acknowledge you—   But then the director walks past you like you’re a plant. Wallpaper. A backstage prop.   “I loved that emotion you expressed in the final piece. Almost moved me to tears.”   “I tried to do a different interpretation of it this time…” Their voices fade off and you sigh.   You’re envious. Kim Seokjin has a good face. He can act. He can dance. He has stage presence. He’s magnetizing and charming. But he just can’t sing. The man can’t hold a steady note for the life of him. You suspect he’s tone-deaf.    Understandably, the director couldn’t give up on his godly face, so you became his voice. A ghost singer.   It actually works out well. You don't have to be on stage in the spotlight where every single person can scrutinize you, but your voice can be heard. In a way, it’s like you’re performing. But you can still be comfortable. You just wish you were acknowledged. Even if it’s just a little.   You’re suddenly shocked out of your thoughts when one of the crew members hands you a stick, clearing his throat obnoxiously. “Start sweeping.”   You carry the broom and dustpan, beginning to brush away at the confetti that exploded, clearing the floor of dust and dirt. And you end up missing the boy who sneaks himself backstage, who looks around and slips into the shadows.   He walks down the corridor, luckily finding the dressing rooms and he follows the nameplates until he discovers the one that reads ‘Kim Seokjin’.   The boy knocks three times in rapid succession. He puts on his best smile and tries to push the wrinkles out of his suit jacket that’s too small and worn. The door opens. The laughter tapers off.   Jin’s makeup and fake burnt skin have been removed. What’s left is pure godlike genes, and he’s blinded by the older man’s handsomeness, having to resist the urge to shield his eyes.   “Who are you?”   “M-My name is Park Jimin. I’m a fan, I-I absolutely loved your voice on the show.”   “You want an autograph? Of course you do.”   “Who’s that?” the director calls out, lounging on the sofa and drinking a glass of red wine.   “A fan,” Seokjin turns his head to say, and then he grabs a piece of paper. He makes an enormous signature with permanent marker and several loops in his name. Once finished, he slaps it to Jimin’s chest before the younger can even breathe. “Thanks for your support.”   “Wait. Mr. Kim.” Jimin puts his foot between the door before he can shut it. The actor raises his brow and looks at him. “My dream is to be on Broadway. I know this is a lot to ask of you, but can you please mentor me?”   Jin stares at him and then frowns in annoyance. “Mentor you?”   Jimin quickly adds, “I promise I’ll try my best. I am willing to give up anything and learn and you seem to be the best of the best. I haven’t heard such a great baritone voice like yours in so long. Please accept me as your student.”   There’s an extended silence. “Sorry. I don’t accept students.”   “W-wait. Please!”   “Security!” Seokjin shouts outside the door. “Get him out of here!”   Jimin’s shell-shocked, unable to move when his feet are rooted in the ground. His bones have been frozen. The precious image of his idol that he’s created in his own mind for the past two hours has shattered. He’s left in utter shame and disappointment.   “Hey...you’re not allowed to be here!” One of the crew members suddenly points to him.   And then a hand plops down onto his shoulder, a grip firm and intimidating. Jimin looks up to find a stocky security guard, and he sighs. He drags his own legs, shoulders slumped, escorted out.   //   It takes an hour to help the crew clean up. You assist them in sweeping and putting away the props, all while waiting patiently with your eyes pinned on the entrance of the corridor. You dust your hands off, and you’re lucky with your timing.   The director is walking out with his bag slung over his shoulder, jacket over his arm, busy sipping on some warm tea.   “Director Kang!”   You stop right in front of him and he looks at you in boredom. “Why haven’t you gone home yet, intern?”   You’ve been cleaning up the entire time, but you don’t bother telling him in case he tells you that you’re too slow to complete tasks. You’re too preoccupied anyways, catching your breath. It’s the moment you’ve been waiting for. “D-Director. I know we’ve talked about this before, b-but I really hope you’ll reconsider the referral.”   He sighs, rolls his eyes, and continues walking. You follow beside him frantically while he pulls out his phone to message someone.    “I think I’ve been trying my hardest at this job and I've been putting in a lot of hours. I’ve thought about what you said and your advice and I feel like I’ve improved in my singing, s-so….please give me a referral to an agent.”   All you need is a referral. One measly call and you can be in touch with someone who could expand their hands and help you. You could finally make a break in the industry, make a debut on Broadway. It’s what you’ve been trying to achieve your entire life. It’s your dream. Your goal. The reason you left everything back and home and came all the way here.   But he’s not paying any attention to your desperate pleas.   “Director?”   He’s irritated — you can tell with the way he huffs out. It makes you flinch, but he at least stops. “Intern, don’t make me repeat myself. You need to focus on what you’re doing now. Frankly, you’re not even good at this insignificant job. How are you supposed to achieve big things?”   “B-But…”    “You can’t take big leaps when you can’t even take small steps yet. You’re not ready. Not yet. If I happen to notice that you’re finally putting in some real effort and some hard grind, then I’ll think about it again. But now’s just not the time.”   “I…” You’re at a loss, on the verge of sobbing.   “Now if you’re finished, I have a call to make.”   He presses his phone to his ear, a universal sign that he’s not continuing the conversation. You watch him get into his car, driving away, and you’re left there on the street in a cloud of his gas exhaust.

Jimin is at a loss.    He paces around in his empty apartment room with still taped boxes scattered everywhere. He doesn’t feel like unpacking and putting away his belongings. Not when his mind was stuck on something else.   He came all the way here to look for a mentor — having followed his community theater director’s instructions to work on his singing. But without a teacher he can’t make his big break.   “What am I going to do now?” he sighs.    Maybe he jumped the gun a little too soon. It was pretty intense of him to go to a show right on the day when he moved in when he probably should’ve gotten settled. But there’s no time to waste when time is of the essence! Maybe he could somehow convince Seokjin to take him as a student. He is pretty insistent and not one to give up just after a single rejection….   Jimin sits on his couch, the only piece of furniture intact in his home, and he folds his hands together. His brows are furrowed, in deep contemplation onto the next step. But then suddenly, he hears a voice.   “—your eyes and surrender to your darkest dreams.” It’s coming from the window. Sweet and melodic. Jimin’s captivated and stands on his feet, following the sound as if he was being gently tugged by a red string tied around his finger. “Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before.”   He steps out barefoot onto his chilly balcony. His eyes are fixed on the balcony beside him, the tiny flower beds that are wilting, the warm lights that pour out from inside the home, how the doors are slightly open to welcome a breeze. “Close your eyes, let your spirit start to soar!”   He hangs onto the note, relishes in how it stirs his very soul, and then rushes out. “And you'll live as you've never lived before....”   Jimin throws his front door open and then pounds onto the door next to his with his fist.   Three beats. One — two — three. And it opens.   He smiles. Then it falls. His line of sight comes a little lower than expected. He was anticipating a man singing, perhaps someone alike to Seokjin, lean and handsome. But instead, it’s a timid girl in pajamas — you.   “H-hello?” you squeak, nervous.   “H-Hi. I...I just….” He taps his ear, trying to explain himself. “I thought I heard…heard....never mind.” Jimin hitches his thumb over his shoulder and awkwardly tilts his body. “I just moved in.”   “Y-Yeah. I saw this morning.”   “So…it’s-uh-nice to meet you, I guess. I mean I don’t guess because it is great to meet you. I swear I’m not usually like this. What I mean is usually I’m not so direct. And, um, bad at speaking. We’ll be neighbors from now on. So I wanted to say hello, since usually, that’s the polite thing to do. Or at least what my mom tells me. She’s great. My mom. But right, I didn’t even tell you my name. My bad. I’m Park Jimin.”    He extends and opens his hand. Then he realizes it’s idiotic for him to shake hands with you. It wasn’t like this was some sort of business transaction. So Jimin lowers his arm….right when you’re opening your palm.    It’s a missed handshake, and he’s cringing so hard, he’s tempted to jump off the balcony. But instead, he musters up stiff laughter and raises his hand to shake yours. He muses how soft your skin is, but tries not to think about it too much in case that’s a weird thought. Which it is.   God, he’s usually not this nervous. It’s a fucking mess.   Yet, you still offer him a polite smile. “I’m Y/N.”   “Nice name. I mean all names are nice, but yours in particular. Not that I mean anything by it. Like it’s quite normal, but not normal in the sense that it’s overused. Not that overused names are a bad thing.” It’s terribly awkward. That blank stare you’re giving him doesn’t help with his perspiration either. Jimin tries to smile to show that he’s not a freak. But it might also be doing the opposite effect. “Well, I should get going now. Lots to unpack.”   “Okay.”   You’re about to close the door, and he steps away. But in the last second, Jimin spins around before you can seal yourself inside.    “Um, were you playing music?”   You’re silent and you blink at him owlishly. “Sorry, I’ll try to keep it down.”   Jimin nods. It’s not exactly what he meant — he wasn’t complaining. But he doesn’t linger to tell you so. He doesn’t want to make you feel tense and he feels like a creep enough. The last thing that Jimin wants is to be kicked out before he’s even fully settled in for being a complete weirdo.   Typically he’s not this socially inept. But he accepts that he’s made a horrible first impression and shuts the door.   Though as he leans on the smooth surface of it, he quirks his head to one side and his brows furrow. Strange. That voice sounded so familiar. And so tangible as if it were here and not a recording.   But he doesn’t dwell, going on about his night.   In the meanwhile, you try to sing quieter.

[rebelliouslala]

It’s In The Stars

(soulmate au, reincarnation au, namjoon x reader, fluff, language, 2.3k words)

song suggestion: “we’ve never met but can we have a cup of coffee or something?” by In Love With a Ghost yes that was my inspiration

The royal palace buzzed like a hive once the doors shut behind the Kim family. It practically was, the worker bees had been tending to the Kim Prince all morning. Even as they cooked for the Prince and his family, even if they clothed him, they still buzzed the rumors of his new and arranged bride.

“She has such beautiful hair!”

“Her skin glows whenever she smiles!”

“They will have such talented children!”

Even if the workers did have a crush on the prince, they couldn’t help but feel overwhelmed in excitement. The one who could not spread such rumor, but only hear, was Kim Seok-Jin. He had been wrapping the robes around the Prince however, humming and tending to his cleanliness for the big day.

That was until the Prince flinched. He stepped away from his servant and instead sat down on the pedestal, head in his hands.

“Your Highness?” the servant said, piqued at the sudden movement.

“Forgive my, curious behavior, but I am just, so worried.” the Prince looked at the reflecting glass across from him, biting his lip. “I do not know this bride.”

“According to the stars, sire, we have found she is your soulmate.”

“Oh don’t bother with that, Seok-Jin. You and I both know Father and Mother-,”

“It is true! Have you not heard of my bride? She and I will be wed soon, privately.” The Prince looked over with a frown, “How could you not tell me? I would love to attend.”

“You shall, with your new wife.”

With a groan he looked at the wood ceiling above. “Seok-Jin I do not want to marry a girl I have never met.”

“But you have!”

“Children do not count. I hardly remember my childhood.” The young Prince mumbled, “Nor do I remember even being a child.”

Seok-Jin sat down next to the Prince, a growing frown being painted on his lips, “Well, your Highness, you cannot judge her. Besides, you will also have your concubines to love. In other ways as-,”

“Seok-Jin.” Time froze, and the servant could only hear the young man’s shaky breath as he whispered, “I hate it here.”

“I know you do, sire.” Seok-Jin mumbled back.

“When will it end? The facade I must live?” Seok-Jin backhugged his Prince. Luckily no one else of the Royal Court or family was here, to see them hug, to see them show affection and care. They would’ve had the man’s head.

“You know, when I first met my fiance—,”

“Seok-Jin please—,”

“Let me finish, Nam-Joon! Aish, you never let me finish my stories!” He pouted. The Prince pursed his lips at his name, clinging onto the other man’s tight and securing arms, “Sorry.”

“Now where was I- ah! My lovely Chung-ae. Oh, when I first saw her at the market, from your bride’s kingdom, Time stopped when I saw the red string on my finger glow. I had almost tripped over myself trying to win her heart.” The servant chuckled, nearly cuddling the Prince with the memories, “She slapped me once, called me a buffoon for trying to boast with her.”

“Your flirtatious actions are conceded, Seok-Jin.” Prince Nam-Joon smiled softly, his dimples gleaming a little, like shining water in the summer.

“Did you know I met her when your father and mother were fighting? Your parents had threatened to use me as their beating stick. Your father ad struck me multiple times because his temper was, not at it’s best.” Nam-Joon faintly nodded, his eyes nearly shutting, “I do remember.”

“But it was Chung-ae. My darling, beloved angel Chung-ae who brought the light. She had made me smile, made me love something even if life, and your father, had struck me down so many times. I do not know if you will like your bride, that it it’s own mystery, Nam-Joon. But give this Princess a chance. This is your soulmate. You both will be happy. The stars of this universe never lie.”

The Prince heaves another heavy sigh, his face contorting, “That is just Royalty propaganda. You have not seen the royal soulmate marriages like I have. Cruel, meaningless marriages. I know my parents do not love each other. Like I will never find someone to love as well,”

A knock resounds throughout the room, and Nam-Joon scrambled up, standing regal, with his arms open. Like his mother had once said, a prince is not a prince without his godly stance.

“Ah, sorry I must’ve stepped into the wrong room.”

Nam-Joon turned but his servant had already rushed to the doorway. “Princess! This is the Prince’s quarter!”

“Oh! Pardon me, I was only looking for my future in-laws’ room. I wanted to greet them.” Seok-Jin pointed, somewhere where the Prince could not see, “They’re across the court.”

“Thank you—,”

“Kim Seok-Jin, at your service.” The servant bowed, deeply. “Ah, are you related to the Prince?”

“Not entirely, little warning, he’s a brat.” Nam-Joon retorted, clearing his throat. But he heard the Princess’ giggle, “I’ll keep it in mind. Thank you Seok-Jin.”

“Take care, Princess.” The doors close, and Nam-Joon slouched, “Seok-Jin!”

“She has to know!”

The Prince sighed, and he muttered quietly, “She sounded sweet.”

“AH HA!” the servant pulled away from his duty of clothing him. “SEE?”

“First impressions often are the opposite.”

“You felt something, didn’t you sire?” Nam-Joon glared at him, “Just fix me up!” Seok-Jin chuckled, humming with pride at his tiny victory.

ꕥ

The entire Kim family stood as they see the tall man walk down the aisle. King Kim Kyu-Hwang stiffened as his son’s face was barely covered by the veil, muttering at his wife, Queen Kim Ho-Sook, “Can you fucking believe our son?”

“It’s his wedding day. Let him.”

“He is becoming king right now! You would’ve thought he would come in with grace.”

Ho-Sook looks up with a frown at her husband, “At least his stance is well.”

“Son,” the King said gruffly to his son, hitting his back. Nam-Joon’s eyes almost bulge out as he nodded back, “Father.”

“Are you ready to see your bride? Your mother and I searched the entire land for your soulmate.” Nam-Joon turned slowly, muttering, “You searched until you found a king you could fool into away his daughter and his kingdom’s resources against the wars.”

Kyu-Hwang’s grip against his son became insane to ignore, “Such harsh words to your father, especially one who is giving you the crown, young man.” Nam-Joon scowled back at his father one last time. He stiffly turned back, to witness his bride walking down the aisle.

Even if the robes of crimson you wore reminded him of his stay in the wars. Even if the purple makeup you wore reminded him of the bruises bloomed by his father’s touch. Even when the servants yelled your name like his mother did to him.

He never fell in love with someone as fast.

For years he only felt himself shrivel in agony.

Look at the looking glass only to find blurriness because of the tears.

He could not even love himself.

Yet when he looked at the Princess, with her beautiful hair hidden underneath a crown; her figure disguised by the wedding robes, her heart stopping smile masked by a stern face.

Even if you had to hide; Nam-Joon still found the beauty you were gifted with.

Not only were you walking down the aisle, hesitantly looking up to meet his eyes, you smiled. At a man you did not know.

Lovingly he took your hands, and his dimples shine a little as he tries to talk, “Princess-,”

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

He held your hands close, not letting his father brush him off as his teeth shone like the sun behind him, “Y/N, I know we only met, but would you like to kiss?” Nam-Joon cringed slightly at using Seok-Jin’s line, but you laughed quietly, covering your smile.

He took your hand down, looking at you with care.

“Well, isn’t that why we’re here, Prince?” you said sweetly, letting his hands down to your waist, and your hands towards his neck as your lips connect.

ꕥ

You woke up, holding your head.

“Y/N?”

You look at your roommate, Seokjin. His pink lips frowned, and held your throbbing head. “Y/N you were having that dream again, weren’t you?”

The details of his face had been much too realistic. His dimples. His shining brown eyes creasing as his light caramel skin flushed with a pretty red.

You knew that face like you knew how to mix an Iced Americano, and to be honest;

He seemed so real.

“No, I’m fine, thanks. I didn’t scare you, did I?”

Seokjin shook his head, “No, but Y/N please—,” You brush his hand off your shoulder with a smile, “I’m fine, thanks.”

While your best, and only friend really did know couldn’t help dreaming about him, he let you go to the restroom, the romantic glint in your eyes passing by his instinct.

Luckily Seokjin had woken you up so you could go to work. Fixing your hair up and such, you hug your roommate goodbye.

Seoul always made you feel, weird. Like this was not your home. Yes you were born and raised, like many others, but still you wanted more than the smell of the River Han.

It’s like you were unsatisfied.

That and the new hot tricks on finding soulmates quickly. Your hint was unknown, doctors said you would know immediately when you met them. You assumed, the man in your dreams. He had been with you his whole life, being the shadow on everything you’ve done.

Even when you tried to apply to art college, your head full of images of him smiling, near you, crying, in a telephone booth, they wouldn’t take it.

They didn’t believe your sappy soulmate tale.

But you didn’t mind, right now you were the manager of one of the hottest cafes in downtown Seoul. And not only were you manager, you made your own coffee recipes, grinding foreign beans, making new designs in coffees that have never been heard before. Even crazy tea mixtures. Tourists paid to go to Korea for your cafe.

Yet still, emptiness always paved way in your mind. You were hungry, but for what? Was it love? Companionship?

No matter, today you felt different. Every day usually you drove, but on this beautiful spring day, you walked. After all, you did have to greet your subjects.

Kim Namjoon however was working under his father. He watches his father blackmail on his workers, chest on his mother, just be an all around asshole.

Thankfully today he had an excuse to quiet work in his own private office. One of the only perks he got.

But the stench of soju always got to his nose before the words could to his ears.

“Son,”

Namjoon looks up from his thin framed black spectacles and forces a smile, “Father.”

Drumming his fingers on Namjoon’s desk, the CEO of the record label, Kim Kyu-hwang bares his front teeth with a grin, exhaling out more of his grotesque stench, “You’re working late, I see.”

Namjoon continues to type on his computer silently, his eyes darting to his relative then his technology, “Yes Father, last night you went out partying again, and anther woman claims you’ve gotten her pregnant.”

“Did you pay her off?”

Namjoon looks up, staring coldly. ���No. I haven’t. I’m not planning to.” Taking off his glasses, he leans on his desk, “Why are you here?”

“I thought you could go out on a walk with me, son! Go find a new model for the company. Plus I wanted to check out that new cafe.”

After 26 years, Namjoon’s father now wanted to bond?

“I’m fine, thank you Father.”

“Come on, we can try to find your soulmate.” he punches Namjoon’s forearm, more roughhousing like a sibling than a dad.

Namjoon inhales deeply, holding the bridge of his nose. “Jesus- fine. After I’m still going to work late, because of you.”

“I know, now get your jacket. Can’t let my son look like a son of a bitch.”

As his father strutted out, humming one of his group’s new Kpop songs, Namjoon boils.

“I have a macchiato with caramel and cream?” A hand pokes out of the crowd, which you hand and rush back to fill the other orders.

Even if the cafe was always crowded, with the scent of all kinds of people, your favorite always popped out.

Green tea.

That scent had always made you flutter your eyes, like you were transported into another life, long ago.

Mysteriously, like your dream.

The doors open, letting some of the tea smell escape.

Usually you didn’t mind who came through. But some sort of force made you look up, a tall, handsome man stepped through.

Light reflected off his skin, making him almost glow. His sweet eyes stared back at yours, and the little shimmer in his eyes told you enough.

It was him.

Transported all the way from Dreamland.

From your kingdom.

From your other life.

Not only was he your Prince, you recall, he was your soulmate.

You go to the cashier immediately, throwing off the stupid apron you wore as you wore your biggest grin.

But the older man, that bastard of a King-, no, CEO. He smirks at you, moving in front of the young man, “My, what a pretty girl.”

You stare back at him grimly, sighing. “Hello, may I take your order sir?”

“Perhaps you can. If you meet my son, pretty girl.” Your face contorts at his sickening words. This man hardly knew you.

But you knew him.

“Father,” his voice is deep, and stern.

He pushes in front with a stressful sigh as he pushes a card towards you.

You didn’t care what it said. Nor what it even meant. You instead took his hands and look at him. He looks at you, his dimples almost showing like they did when in your dreams, like when you and he had your first kiss.

The emptiness was filled to the brim, almost overflowing when he held your hands back with one large hand, “Uh—?”

With a sweet smile to stop his heart, and his words, you whisper, “Hey, we never met but can we maybe get a coffee sometime?”

[brandyleewhatever]

The Clubs [Thor x Reader]

If Its Meant To Be…

Summary: In a world of soulmates, what do you think would happen if yours turned out to be someone disliked? 

Warning: Just a hand full of bad words, and some light making fun of Thor. I promise I actually love him dearly.

Pairings: Thor x Reader 

Square Filled: Soulmate AU

Words: 1049

AN: This is for @capsavengersbingo lovely bingo card I was thankful to receive! 

The Soulmates Club. There are only three locations in the world.

Oslo, Norway. Belgrade, Serbia. Nashville, Tennessee.

The Club is a strange thing to understand, most people just think its complete bullshit. Of course, most of those people will never know the truth. They will never end up at the door of A Club. It just isn’t in their Stars to have a soulmate.

Because in this world, this alternate universe you could say, not everyone has another half that makes them whole. They are just meant to fall in love with another lonely soul until death. Maybe they will get lucky in their next life.

Very few people are half of a whole soul. That’s way there are so few Clubs, and why when a person ends up outside of one of their doors, the world seems to slow down and they must stop and catch their breath.

No one ever sets out on going to The Club. They just end up there. As does their soulmate. Every single time, without fail, in all the world’s history. Being part of this club is a truly special thing.

Y/N was a hardcore anti-cluber. Believing that the cities were just filling their pockets with money from the gullible tourist that flocked there in hopes of seeing “true love”, which she said was an unrealistic idea.

She had an entire blog dedicated to the shut down of The Clubs, or at the very least, hefty taxation upon the owners. Shame on them for praying on peoples hope that there was something pure left in this world. The simple days went out the window the minute that Horse God and his unnecessarily large hammer smashed into their planet.

“We wouldn’t need all this superhero nonsense if you would have stayed in Assgaurd.” She mumbled, scrolling past a picture of “The Mighty Thor” fighting some adversary from space, on her social media newsfeed as she waited for her flight.

She’d been invited to a press conference on the negative affects the Avengers were supposedly having on the impressionable youth around the world. This was her first step into the world of super politics, and she was excited. Which is probably why she didn’t notice she was getting on to the wrong flight. Why the lady who checked her ticket didn’t notice, I can’t say.

“Hey, could I get a drink please. Water, no ic-“

“This drink, I like. Another one! Please.” Roared across the plane cheerfully, cutting off her own drink order.

Y/N leaned over, peeking around the flight attendant. “You have got to be kidding me.” Looking up at the older lady, who clearly wanted to get her drink and move on, she pointed toward first class and right at Thor who could been seen between two black curtains. “He can fly. Why the hell is he on a plane?”

“We all deserve a little time to relax sweetie. He tries his best to keep us all safe.” The older lady smiled longingly toward the handsome God before sighing. “Plus, I think that’s a common misconception. I’ve heard he can only jump really high.”

The whole flight all she could do was stare in annoyance as Thor laughed and interacted with brave passengers who made their way to his first-class section for a little meet and greet. By the time the plane landed, she wanted to scream. She was in such hurry to get away that she didn’t pay attention as she stood, knocking her shoulder against a solid piece of rock.

A large hand clasped her upper arm to steady her. His touch was gentler than she would have thought. “My lady, I apologize. Are you injured?” He was much taller than her. She looked up her nose at him as he smiled that Godly smile that was all over the news. With a jerk, she ripped her arm from his grip.

“I am fine. Now if you excuse me.” Everyone watched in shock as she shoved past the Avenger and stormed off the plane. Despite her rudeness, Thor couldn’t help with chuckle and watch as she disappeared.

“Please explain to me how the hell I ended up in Nashville instead of DC.” She demanded, banging a fist on the counter. The poor airport worker on the other side took a step back and held up his hand. “Honestly ma’am, I have no idea. We can get you set up for another flight tomorrow-“

He froze as her eyes widened and her arms flung into the air. “Tomorrow? Are you kidding me? I was supposed to be at conference room B by 2pm today!” Realizing this man who was looking for assistance, terrified, was going to be of no help, Y/N just walked away.

She left the airport on foot, in search of a café to grab some lunch while she made some phone calls to ensure no one thought she was just ditching back in DC.

Her nose was in her phone, she may have been checking comments on her latest blog post, when her hand came into contact with the cool wood of the door.

Y/N clicked her screen off and pocketed the phone as she slowly looked up, sucking in breath when she realized where she was.

The pretty cursive letters on the door shimmered in the sunlight. “The Soulmates Club.” With a groan she pushed the door open, mumbling under her breath. “You have to be f-ing kidding me.”

“My lady.” He swiveled around on his bar stool, almost falling but managing to catch himself. He was a superhero after all. “I do hope you decide to stop writing such hurtful things about me on the… web thingy.”

All the doubt, all the fight she wanted to put up, was gone as soon as she walked into The Club. There was no denying it. Her entire being had changed, and it all made sense.

“Only if you get a smaller hammer to swing around.” She teased, sliding onto the stool next to him. They both started to lean forward, eyes falling shut.

If you would have told Y/N that one day she would be kissing that Horse God of Assgaurd, she would have probably laughed before hitting you with a normal sized hammer.

[My husband said they went right to kissing too quickly. But they are soulmates, its 3am. Just go with it. Lol]

Tags: @his-paradox @tammyjewel @capsheadquaters

[americangodsimagines]

you're doing the fandom so much good with your beautiful writing since this fandom seems to sorely lack fanfics even after the first season has ended. If you're not too busy, could you please write something for our Sajinn (salim x the jinn)? I'd love to read it =D

Aw that’s so sweet~ Thank you!Me? Write Sajinn? What do you mean that’s 95% of the reason I created this blog? I have no idea where you’re getting all of this. So, on Mousa Kraish’s twitter he calls his character Ifrit so I’m just gonna go with that cos I assume in this world he has to have a name and the way Mousa writes it makes it seem like Ifrit is his name not the type of Jinn he is so… 

This is set in a happy!au where Salim and the Jinn just like get to be happy and move in together back in New York and everyone is so damn happy, Shadow’s happy, Sweeney’s happy, Ostara’s happy, Bliquis, Anansi, everyone is as happy as humanly and godly possible. Happy. 

 Salim entered his apartment with a relieved sigh. Home. 

It might seem selfish, after all that had happened to him, all he had gone through, to still get annoyed over simple things like drunk passengers and strings of red lights. Ifrit assured him it wasn’t, on those nights when he held him close and Salim admitted all those things that still unnerved him, that feeling tugging at the edges of his mind that it was all going to go up in flames. Ifrit never judged him, and shared his own feelings in return, the stories from his past, the dreams he had of his broken, crumbling City. 

Being married to a Jinn - and his stomach still fluttered at that thought - didn’t make life any easier. But he had faith. Even after a day like this, when he’d spent the last hour scrubbing vomit from his cab, he had faith. 

He had faith, and he had someone magical waiting for him here, in his apartment. He wandered through their apartment, the apartment where they were free to be together, where no one battered an eyelid at the two of them. He wondered if it was acceptance. Maybe they just didn’t know enough about his culture, his people, his laws, to know just how wrong it should be for him to be with his Jinn.  But even when they attracted the attention of a bigoted tourist or two, glaring at them from across the street, he could never find it in himself to feel like he was committing the sin he had been raised to feel it should be. It wasn’t like back in Oman, those sneaked touches and stolen tastes in back alleys with strange, equally desperate men, the eyes of Allah in the back of his mind judging him, or maybe it was just the fear of his parents, the people, the law.  He never felt Allah judging him when he was with the Jinn. He felt guilty about that sometimes, as if he was using the fact that the Jinn was such a creature, a beautiful creature made by Allah, proof of his faith, to negate the guilt he should feel. 

His eyes fell on his Jinn, glasses on his face to cover the burning flames where his eyes should be, hunched on the couch over a book. 

Salim grinned, the tension already easing from his shoulders. Philosophical questions could wait for another day. He stepped into the room. 

Immediately, his Jinn’s head darted up to him, the glasses slipping down his nose to reveal that fire. He smiled up at him and Salim grinned back helplessly. Ifrit put aside his book and stood up, closing the distance between them. Salim winced instinctively, and his Jinn hesitated. 

“Vomit,” Salim explained and Ifrit’s face relaxed. They’d both driven that cab, after all. Practically a family business, he thought warmly. 

“Bath?” 

Salim nodded. “Sounds wonderful.” They’d been speaking English, he mused as his husband wandered into their bathroom to fill up the tub. They’d begun to save their natural language for their later night conversations, their language turning from a necessity to something beautiful, a reminder of the home neither of them could really return to, something whispered between two lovers at midnight. 

The Jinn was half-naked before Salim realised he was supposed to be getting undressed. 

He smiled sheepishly to himself as he started flinging clothes away. The Jinn had slid into the bath while waiting for Salim to undo his shoes. 

Finally, Salim was naked, and he gratefully melted into the water, plastering himself against his Jinn as Ifrit poured water over his head, running hands through Salim’s hair with a focus on his face that made it seem, and Salim honestly believed, that at that moment, here, washing him, was the most important thing in the world to the Jinn.

Salim tilted his head back as the warm waters rolled down his neck and he sighed. He was happy.  

Yeah, listen this is basically me throwing a bunch of headcanons at a fic and seeing how they mesh.  

~Send me American Gods prompts, headcanons, or even just a ship name and I’ll write you a little something~

[mizz-apple2016]

Fuck now I wana write a Malibu beach au fic where Shownu and Wonho are surf instructors and IM just keeps doing it wrong on perpose and Kihyun is just so flabber gasted that doing it right isn't even in the realm of possibilities bc his instructor is this godly bear of a dude. Cameo's for Joohnyuk as the happy annoying tourist couple and Hyungwon as a sleepy store owner.

you better sit tight on your chair and don’t go until you finish that, lady ...

puwheeezze?