#The post is sti up thank god

[morbidboats]

I hope the 'i have suggested arctic themed roleplay' reddit guy and his gf are doing okay. or that she dumped him if he wouldn't let it go. I have not laughed that hard at a post in a long time. 

[glossysoap]

I saw your posts about poly relationships and if you don't mind I'm going to drop some stuff that I wish I knew before getting into poly stuff.

Non-monogamy looks different for everyone. You really need to understand what particular "flavour" you're interested in. Do you want a closed triad? Are you interested in being mostly monogamous with the occasional 3rd person for sex only? Do you want to be part of a larger polycule?

Jealousy will happen. It's not the end of the relationship (usually) and it doesn't mean you're a bad poly person. But jealously stems from something so you need to be able to work out the root cause and address it.

Communication, communication, communication. You have to be able to communicate your wants and needs clearly and kindly - without compromising on your own boundaries

No ganging up on anyone! It's so easy in a poly relationship to have a disagreement with Partner A and then go looking for support in Partner B. That isn't fair to Partner B or Partner A!

You love your partners, and you trust your partners BUT if you have multiple sexual partners please for the love of god use barrier protection (gloves, dental dams, condoms) AND get tested for STIs regularly. For some people that means getting tested every time they have a new sexual partner, sometimes it means once a month, sometimes longer. Just get tested and be open and honest about your test results.

Definite what cheating is early on and don't compromise. If you consider cheating to be when your partner(s) fucks someone outside of the relationship without your express agreement or consent beforehand, do not bend on this. If your partner(s) say that they are fine with you having a sexual relationship with someone but not a deeper emotional connection, don't sneak out behind your partner(s)' back and date that person.

Sometimes you can be the most open, honest and communicative partner but you're not a good fit. It's okay, you've just got to end the relationship and move on.

If you're bisexual/pansexual and say that you're poly you will be approached by someone who claims they are poly but I can guarantee that their partner believes that they are in a monogamous relationship. Don't get caught up in that mess.

There is a chance you won't like you partner(s) other partner(s). You have to decide if that's a dealbreaker.

Stay away from r/polyamory. It's a total cesspool.

✍️ thank you!!! hugging you 🫂 posting bc this is such useful advice <3

[kneelbeforeyourdogbabylon]

Chapter 3 of Sins of Knowledge is up!

Chaptered fic (3/12?), WIP, posting every other week

Here Come the Man with a Look in His Eye

Rated Explicit

CW/TW and tags: sex pollen/dubcon, ethical concerns, coercion, blackmail, human AU, university AU, more tags and notes at AO3

Biggest thanks to the usual suspects, @cheeseplants and @gaiaseyes451 for the stellar and thoughtful beta! You two are fantastic ❤️ also thanks to the @goodomensafterdark writers for being all around super supports and the best goblins anywhere ❤️‍🔥

Chapter Summary:

When last we left them, Crowley and Aziraphale had been discovered in flagrante-ish, or least in somno (...after flagrante) by Shax and Hastur. (At least they had their pants on? Mostly?) They meet the man behind the lab. Extortion ensues. Aziraphale attends Crowley’s class and does science badly, Crowley experiences some odd perceptions, and the next formula is ready to be tested. Also we may have gone from the rapid-fire burn of last chapter to a bunch of cool coals. Oh, dear.

See AO3 for full work summary and tags!

Excerpt:

Something was welling up in Crowley like a giant balloon. Was it hope? Relief? It was heady and huge. He remembered the word angel burning in his mouth, and the glow of Aziraphale’s forehead. Could it be that once in his life Crowley had actually judged someone accurately? And that someone had also judged him and found him to be something other than treacherous? “I did bring you over to Ashbury in the first place,” he reminded Aziraphale.

A tiny smile flickered over Aziraphale’s face. “Are you trying to convince me of your guilt?”

“No. I just – no.”

“Fine. Good. I’m still going to audit your course. You can still audit mine as well, if you like. Not sure what to do with this independent study nonsense, though.” 

“I could help. I’ve set up loads for Bea, they have me work with masters’ students on it.”

“No, I’ll speak to Ana.” Aziraphale looked as though he were steeling himself, and then in a rush, he said: “I just want to be clear. I don’t want to do that again.”

And just like that, wheeeeee the balloon punctured. “Okay,” said Crowley. “That, meaning…”

“What we’ve been captured doing on live and uncensored late night camera. I mean. I’m not sure what will happen next with this absolute madman playing God and apparently no consequences, but I don’t want – “ Aziraphale sighed. “That wasn’t me. I don’t do that.”

“What,” Crowley said unkindly, “sleep with blokes? A little late in life for panic, eh? Maybe I’m the one who should be asking about STIs, you know studies have shown closeted gays are just as promiscuous if not more so — ”

“Oh fuck off, you know what I mean,” Aziraphale snapped. “I’m not in the closet. I meant I don’t sleep with people like that, like you.” 

Oooh, this just got better and better. Crowley couldn’t help smiling a bit even as his chest constricted. “Like me. What, sexy?”

Aziraphale put a hand to his temple. “Bloody hell. Yes, I despise giving head to sexy men.”

His lips still looked soft, as soft and warm and wet as they’d felt when he’d kissed Crowley’s belly, bent down and closed them over the head of Crowley’s cock. Crowley gulped. What had he been about to say? Something smart. Quick, say something smart. “Big apologies. I am what I am.”

“I forgive you,” Aziraphale said, with so much sarcasm that it practically deluged the quad. 

“Ahhhh. You’re one of those pining-for-ages types, then. In love from afar and all that.” Crowley couldn’t stop, his mouth had taken something smart and launched into the void. “Distance makes the cock grow harder. Wanking every night, wishing and hoping.”

Aziraphale flushed deeper at each word. Crowley stuck his knuckles between his teeth to shut himself up. He wanted to curl into Aziraphale, press his mouth against the heady warmth of that blood rising beneath the skin. He settled for scooting around on the bench, stretching his legs.

[justaniche]

Hey! I’m dying for more Daxton. I seriously can’t wait for season 2. Can you write something about Nalini realizing Paxton is good for Devi? Like he takes care of her/protects her and helps her deal with her trauma

Thanks!!

Hi!

omg let me say first, anon, thank you for this ask. youre the first person to take me up on my offer to write stuff for you so thank you again.

A little bit about this writing piece before I actually show it to you, there was a point when I was writing it when I wasn’t sure if it was going to reach 1K words but there was a point where the words just start to flow and I can proudly say it is 2.1K and that is not a lot but based on what I thought it was going to end up being it has come along way. and this is one of my first-ish never have I ever work of writing. I think it’s the first I’ve written entirely off the top of my head. My other ones are either not posted or it’s my work inspired by the episodes and its just everything through Paxton‘s point of view so it’s a bit different.

this is getting sort of long so anyway, without further ado. here it is. I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what you think and if you like it please feel free to send me another!

Nalini had just about had it. The day’s raging dumpster fire began with traffic that resulted in her being late to work. If that wasn’t bad enough, a patient she saw a couple days ago came back complaining that her treatment caused a breakout. After a follow-up, she discovered the patient hadn’t changed any of their habits despite her advice! So was it really the treatment, or the fact that they don’t wash their face? All that suffices to say when Nalini got home she was already on a very short fuse. Kamala was out for school and let her family know she wouldn’t be home for dinner so it was known by both Devi and Nalini that they would be cooking without her today. Nalini gave Devi specific instructions so that, regardless of how late her day ran, they could have dinner at a reasonable time. Devi did not follow those instructions. Nalini came home to the door unlocked, closed but unlocked, the house a mess, and Devi’s part of dinner not made. No matter how many breaths she took, Nalini was mad. No, mad didn’t quite cover it. She silently walked up the stairs, hell-bent on seeing what caused this disaster, and if she didn’t like the reason she planned to riff for the rest of the night. But approaching Devi’s door she found it ajar. She peeked inside, and that's where she found them.

After winning his swim meet, Paxton was on top of the world. The school day had been what it tended to be, light. Filled with class and hanging with his friends in the hotpocket. But that was hours ago. It was early evening when he saw her, Devi Vishwakumar, they had sort of become friends over recent weeks but given the up and down nature of their relationship, Paxton was always very aware of her. Devi had a way of grabbing Paxton’s attention. He was always trying to figure her out. Of course she made a hell of a first impression, first couple of impressions actually. Devi was sorely different from anyone else in his circle and Paxton wasn’t yet sure how he felt about the sudden invasion. He pretended he didn’t but after unintentionally watching her Paxton began to notice Devi’s change in mood sometimes. Like right now, from where Paxton was he saw the set of her shoulders. The tension was apparent as Devi stalked across the school grounds. Confusion flooded Paxton’s mind and before another thought could register, he was jogging towards her.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” He called towards her but she didn’t stop

Devi cast a look over her shoulder, her voice was muffled when she spoke, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” her voice cracks, “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Paxton slows down for a second as he takes in the situation, Devi speeds up.

“Are you okay?”

Devi breaks into a dead sprint and Paxton doesn’t think, he just follows.

Devi was doing okay. Today was harder than most for a reason she couldn’t name but Devi was making it through. That was until last period art class. The teacher gave a simple assignment, and that was to paint your happiest memory. Immediately when the words left his mouth, a memory came flooding into Devi's mind like a tidal wave.

Devi was 8 when her father convinced her mother that going to a Californian beach as a family would be an adventure. Devi barely remembers the build-up, it was a haze of packing sandwiches and equipment. Leaving the house, only to discover something had been forgotten. A car ride that seemed to stretch into forever. But the beach was magnificent. At least it was in Devi’s memory. It was a gloomy day, the threat of rain looming, so the beach’s visitors were far and few in between. Devi remembers that feeling of warm sand under her feet. She remembers those first fragile steps into the tide, only to rush back as the ocean crashed forward chasing her back to shore. She could see her mom, in the distance, setting up their makeshift camp for the day. She was more content watching her family than participating. The ocean was vast and blue and terrifying. Devi could not urge herself to take more than a few steps. Devi doesn’t know how her dad saw her distress but it was like he could read her mind. He grabbed her and lifted her high then settled Devi on his shoulders. He insisted that she was safe there, she was too high for the ocean to ever reach. He held her hand as he walked slowly but confidently further into the waves. He stopped just as the water kissed her mid-calf but it was enough. From way up here, with her father by her side, the ocean wasn’t anything to fear, it was something to marvel at.

Devi had a firm picture in her mind of her happiest memory and it was her family’s adventure at the beach. But Devi couldn’t make a move to make this image a reality. Sadness crept up on her and got a vice grip on her heart. Her vision blurred and she couldn’t breathe. How had she ever breathed before? Was it always this hard? The bell rang, signaling the end of the day but Devi was on autopilot. Eleanor and Fabiola felt miles away, whenever they’d focus in the daze of her mind, the grip on her heart tightened and dragged her back to darkness. Devi doesn’t know if she said goodbye to her best friends,

She blinked, band began

She inhaled, band was over

She stood, the sun was setting

She gazed, the stress stiffened her movements as she walked around campus. Where was she headed?

Devi was desperate for light, for clarity.

“ Hey, Vishwakumar, wait up! ” The sudden noise broke the muddle, if only for now, she was again aware of the devastation and loss weighing on her mind and on her heart.

She recognized that voice and it was getting closer, she glanced over her shoulder. Paxton, no no no, she didn’t want anyone to see this least of all her newest and most popular friend, “Uh, Hi Paxton, I can’t talk.” Why was her voice cracking? “I’m in a bit of a rush.”

Devi finally knew where she wanted to go as she increased her speed.

“Are you okay?” Paxton’s question was the final straw, she couldn’t stop her tears and they fell uncontrollably past her cheeks. Paxton was going to catch up, and Devi was crumbling by the second. So Devi did the only thing she could. She ran, ignoring the echo of the beating steps behind her.

Nalini could hardly comprehend the scene playing in front of her. Devi, her only child, her entire world, looked so small folded up on the floor in front of her bed. Devi was always so strong, with a personality larger than life. She always seemed bigger than her stature, always taking up more space. Nalini's anger from the day deflates, leaving no trace it was ever there to begin with. Nalini tears her eyes away from the form of her daughter to take in the room. It was dark but the other figure inhabiting the room was clear as day. Paxton sat before Devi, his body language soft. He had one hand on the arms Devi wrapped around herself as he spoke to her gently. Paxton’s volume was soft as a whisper, any louder would shatter the delicate atmosphere. Witnessing this scene felt like a secret and the longer Nalini stood there the guiltier she felt. Devi never expressed emotions this deeply to her. Everyday problems with her friends or tests or Ben Gross, yes. But Devi never shared this.

Nalini's mind was going a million miles an hour as he crept back down the steps and began cooking dinner. She knew Devi would refuse but she needed to have something ready, just in case. When everything was mostly done, she was quiet as she moved around the kitchen, putting the finishing touches on the meal. Nalini knew he was trying to walk silently but she still caught Paxton as he descended the steps. Nalini kept her back to him as she called, giving Paxton an out if he needed.

“Paxton?”

“Um...yes, Hi Mrs. Vishwakumar” at the acknowledgment, Nalini felt comfortable enough to turn around.

Paxton was standing in the doorway, shuffling in obvious discomfort. What he expected her to say she didn’t know. Gods, neither did Nalini. Questions flew through her mind faster than she could catch them. She didn’t want to ask him about what happened, Nalini wanted Devi to share when, if, she was ready. Nalini realized, amongst these questions, that she didn’t know Paxton. Here was this kid, late in the evening comforting her daughter. She couldn’t even be upset that they were home alone when she recalled how broken Devi looked. All Nalini had done thus far was judge Paxton, he looked like a jock so she thought him dumb. She made these assumptions about him, that he’d peak in high school or that he was shallow or that he was a walking STI, but they were just that. Assumptions. This kid stayed with her daughter for she didn’t even know how long, she’d been cooking for close to an hour so it was at least that.

All these guesses and judgments were useless when she stood in front of him. Paxton had a rigid set to his limbs, Nalini thought it was probably from sitting in one position for so long, and he was still dressed in gym clothes. Paxton looked new in Nalini’s eyes and she regretted never wanting to know him before now. Nalini didn’t know where to begin, she wondered if he’d eaten.

“Would you like something to eat?” Nalini's silent prayer must’ve been heard because he accepted. She was being given another chance. She quickly worked around the familiar space, grabbing one of the good containers and piling more food than necessary, successfully straining the unyielding plastic. She was handing the meal over when she paused, they both had a hand on the object between them but Nalini couldn’t let go, not yet.

“Thank you, Paxton, really, I don’t know what happened and I won’t ask but I saw what you did for Devi.” Paxton had the decency to look a little shocked. He hadn’t heard anything. Paxton was too absorbed before. His mind was a broken record repeating only, Devi.

The moment shatters when the front door opened, “I’m home!” Kamala’s voice fills the silent home. With the trance broken, Nalini’s hold on the container falters and she drops her hand allowing Paxton to leave. Words were failing him so all Paxton could give was a tightlipped smile in response.

“Thanks for the dinner.” Paxton’s smile was looser now and that gave Nalini courage.

Kamala was unloaded the day around her but Nalini was focused on making this right, “You’re welcome to come by Paxton, anytime.” She could only hope Paxton knew just how much she meant those words. His smile was burdened but bright, he nodded strongly and then he was out the door.

Kamala was fixing the table for a very late dinner when she called for Devi to join, Nalini hoped she would. “Who was that? And why was he here so late?” Pure curiosity laced Kamala’s voice.

“Paxton is one of Devi’s friends. He’s a good kid.”

Those details were all she could provide before Devi came bouncing down the steps. Nalini couldn’t be sure if it was the fact of what she saw or reality but Devi’s movements looked heavier than they normally were.

“What’s up guys?” Devi’s voice feigned casualness, “Dang mom, isn’t it late for a thousand-course meal?” She questioned as she took in the lack of clear surfaces on the dinner table.

Nalini just brushed it off, indicating for everyone to take a seat. “So how was everyone’s day?”

Nalini wasn’t looking for Devi to share but this was her family. She would always want to hear how they were, plus it was tradition. As they consumed insane amounts of food they were bound to regret eating this late at night, everything felt so normal and easy. But something had shifted in Nalini today and even though it was new and she was scared to death of this person entering Devi’s life with the propensity to hurt her. Nalini can’t say she minded too much because it was Paxton. He had proven himself worthy of a chance, and Nalini wouldn’t soon forget it.

[bedbellyandbeyond]

Mario Kart Double Dash

(Story Post)

Theo and Henderson were both at the former's apartment watching TV when his phone went off. Unfortunately, he'd left it on the kitchen counter and it wasn't easy to move from the couch now that he was 16 weeks pregnant with alien quadruplets. “I got it,” Henderson said getting up to swipe the phone and handed it to Theo. “Merci,” Theo said as he took it and checked the caller ID. He was surprised to see it was Korsy. He answered it. “Hello?” “Theo, you home?” “Yeah.” “Okay, I'm coming up.” “Do you need me to open the balcony door?” “No, I'll take the elevator,” Korsy said. “Just buzz me in?” “Yeah, for sure.”

A few minutes later Korsy was knocking on the door. Henderson let him in. Korsy's usual smirking nature had dissolved into a more frantic and nervous demeanour. He waved to Theo on the couch. “Hey, I'm not interrupting anything, am I?” “No. Would it matter?” Theo sighed. “Are you alright, man?” Henderson asked putting a hand on Korsy's shoulder. “You look pale.” “No, I'm fine…” Korsy said, scratching the back of his head. No one was convinced. “Theo, how have you been?” Theo shrugged. “No more morning sickness. Not in a while, anyway…” “Well, that's good!” Korsy said. He patted Henderson's back. “And I imagine you're taking good care of him?” “Doing my best.” He closed the door behind Korsy. “Are you hungry?” “No, no,” Korsy said. “Have you eaten recently?” Henderson added. “Do you have allergies or dietary restrictions?” “I, uh, no, not really and no,” Korsy said. “But I'm not hungry, it's okay.” “Alright.” Henderson went into the kitchen anyway and started heating up a bowl of stew. “Come sit,” Theo said. “Talk to me.” Korsy went over and sat down, although he still didn't seem particularly relaxed. “You need to tell me what's up,” Theo said. “You are clearly upset about something.” “Yeah, well, I, uh…” Korsy took a deep breath. “Um, I have a friend I've been, you know, getting benefits from and we're not serious or anything, but uh…” Henderson came back and placed the bowl of stew in Korsy's hands before going and sitting down himself. “Eat.” “Oh, uh. Thanks.” “Don't mention it.” Korsy took a moment to try some of the broth. “This is very good.” “My mother sent it over,” Henderson said. “Tell her she's an incredible chef,” Korsy said. “I will. Now, please continue. What's this about a friend with benefits?” “Right…” Korsy scratched the back of his neck. “We didn't know it was possible, but I might've…gotten him pregnant.” Theo's eyes widened. “Oh my god, really?” “How would you believe it wasn't possible?” Henderson asked. “Is he trans?” “No, he's cis. That's why we didn't think it could happen,” Korsy said. “How did it happen, then?” Theo asked. “Or ‘maybe’ happen.” “It's kinda weird and complicated,” Korsy explained. “But he accidentally ate something he shouldn't have and it gave him a womb and now he doesn't want to talk to me and I don't know what to do.” “Um, what in the world did he eat?” Henderson asked. “Alien made stuff,” Korsy said. “You don't have to worry about it. APID has it now. Probably will study it then destroy it.” “Okay, as long as it's not like some weird new mango or something,” Theo said. “Although, do they have to destroy it?” Henderson said. “I bet some transwomen would love that. Even some cis gay couples trying to have kids.” “Well, they are studying it,” Korsy said. “Too untested and unregulated as it is right now.” “Yeah, that's fair,” Henderson said. “Well, you don't know yet for sure if he's pregnant, right?” Theo said. “It could just be a close call.” “That's what we're hoping,” Korsy said. “But, I just… I don't want this to ruin what we have going on. At first it was just sex, but I feel like we're becoming good friends, like you and me.” “I've met you like three times,” Theo said. “That's a lot for me, to be honest,” Korsy said. “I'm away so much, if I want to make friends, it has to be quick.” “Also fair,” Henderson said. “Well, if you're going to be my friend, you have to understand that you don't leave my house hungry.” “This isn't your house,” Theo argued. “Wherever I am is home,” Henderson stated. “You certainly act like it…” Theo said. “Oh hush, you love that I feed you,” Henderson said, patting Theo’s belly. “Your mom feeds me,” Theo argued as well. “That's only sometimes. I cook for you.” Henderson turned back to their guest. “Korsy, don't you wrap it up?” “I do when there's, you know, a vagina involved. Or if they're not tellurian,” Korsy said. “Otherwise, it's whatever they want. Elves don't get STIs.” Henderson looked to Theo again. “Can you confirm?” “Confirm what?” Theo huffed. “I don't know if elves get STIs!” “No, you two almost boned,” Henderson said. “Did he wrap it up for you?” Theo blushed. “Oh. Uh, yes he did. Can we not talk about that? That was so embarrassing…” “What? It's nothing to be embarrassed about,” Henderson said. “You seduced an elf.” “Hardly, he seduced me,” Theo said. “I am certainly attracted to you,” Korsy admitted. Theo pulled a blanket over his head. “Seriously, this is too much…” “Elves certainly seem to like you as much as you like them,” Korsy said. “Considering how many you keep in company.” Henderson frowned, eyeing Korsy. “You're not still on about me being an elf?” “You're still denying it?” Korsy inquired. “I'm not an elf!” Henderson exclaimed. “The thing is, you are though,” Korsy stated. Henderson threw up his hands. “Fine, prove it then.” “Okay.” Korsy put the bowl of stew on the table, a smug grin crossing his face. “Have you ever been sick?” Henderson shrugged. “No.” “Are your ears very sensitive to touch?” Korsy asked. “Aren’t they all?” “Do you have a hard time growing body hair?” Henderson smirked. “No.” Korsy waved a hand. “That's neither here nor there… You're part human anyway.” “I'm all human,” Henderson stated. “Do you resonate with any one or more elements of nature?” Korsy continued. “For example, animals, water, ores, gemstones, fire, wind, the moon, the sun, the stars, etc.” “Define resonate,” Theo piped in. “Is it like a glow or something?” “No, it's like… Well, for me, I have a good bond with magical animals,” Korsy said. “Anyway, it's hard to explain. It's a really strong pull towards those kinds of things. And them to you.” “I can't think of anything like that,” Henderson said. “What about people?” Theo asked. “Henderson's really good at attracting a crowd. People always want to hear his stories and hang out with him at work and stuff.” “That's called being an extrovert,” Henderson stated rolling his eyes. “I mean some magical creatures have a way with people, but mostly demons and sirens,” Korsy said. “Demons are real?!” Theo gasped. “Oh, yeah. But don't worry about them. You're not surprised about the sirens, though?” “He met a mermaid already,” Henderson said. “At that pregnancy group.” “No, he's my case worker,” Theo said. “Oh, right! Fay!” Korsy recalled. “Yeah, Fay's cool.” “We are way off topic,” Theo re-centred. “Right.” Korsy stood up and held his hands out, palms up. “All these questions don't really matter as much as the physical. Stand up, Mr Neil. Lift your arms.” “This is stupid,” Henderson said but Theo nudged him and he got up reluctantly. “Hurry up.” “I said lift your arms,” Korsy said. “Also, it's easier with your shirt off.” “You're lucky you're cute...” Henderson stripped down to his waist and put his arms up. “What, might I ask, are you looking for?” “Elf mark,” Korsy said. “Don't worry, There's only three possible ones below the belt and they're very unlikely considering already what we know about you, so I'll only look for those ones if I don't find any other one.” “Well, you won’t so I might as well undo my drawstrings…” Henderson stated. “Also, I have a lot of ‘marks'. Even if you think you found something, it's probably my condition.” “Elf marks are very specific. It’s not gonna look like a skin condition.” Korsy took out his phone to cross reference a photo he had from a book he wasn't allowed to read, let alone photograph. He checked under Henderson's armpits first. “Not an aquatic elf...” He turned out both of Henderson’s palms. “Not wood or wild.” “How many are there?” Theo asked. “Uh, several,” Korsy said. “About nine, I think?” He went behind Henderson and sighed. “Darn, not Avariel. That would've been unlikely, but so cool...” “What are Avariel?” Henderson asked. “Winged elves,” Theo said excitedly, pulling himself up off the couch so he could look too. “You do know your stuff,” Korsy said. “Anyway, they're long gone.” Korsy pushed forward Henderson's ears to check behind them. “Not Star or Lythari.” “What's left?” Theo asked. “Just Drow, Sun and Moon,” Korsy said. “I don't think he'd be drow, but we'll check anyway. Pants off.” “Are you serious?” Henderson huffed. “You can keep your panties on,” Korsy shrugged. “Just need a look at the inner thigh and then your butt.” “Let me guess, Moon is on the butt?” Henderson sighed. “…Listen, I don't make this stuff up. It's ancient,” Korsy said. “I can assure you, there's nothing there,” Henderson stated. “How often do you look at your butt?” Korsy asked. “Probably a lot,” Theo said. “He has a nice butt.” “I have a nice butt,” Henderson concurred. “Well, we can check the Sun first if you want,” Korsy said. “Not much hope for that one though, but we'll see.” “Where's that one?” Theo asked. “Sole of the foot,” Korsy said. “My feet are completely vitiligo at this point,” Henderson said. “Even if there was something there, it'd be gone.” “Humour me,” Korsy said. Henderson grimaced, but he sat down and put his foot up on the coffee table. “You better not have a foot fetish or something.” “I'm just taking a look, I'm not taking pictures,” Korsy said. “You didn't say ‘no'.” “I don't have a foot fetish,” Korsy stated. “Frankly, it's the last place I want to look. I'm a butt guy.” He went around the coffee table and picked up Henderson's foot before putting it down. “Hm. Other one.” Henderson switched feet, and then Korsy's eyes lit up. He picked up the other man's foot and wiped at it with his thumb, checking in case what he was seeing was dirt. “What?” Henderson groaned in annoyance. “Ha, you're walking on sunshine, baby!” Korsy said in delight. “You have to be kidding...” Henderson pulled his foot back so he could get up and try to look at his sole. Right on his heel, he saw the little circle of spots with little dots around the outside, mimicking solar flares. “What the hell...” Theo spread his arms. “Oh my god, you're a Sun Elf!” Henderson exhaled in frustration and put his foot down. “I...ugh, this is dumb...” “Sun elves are pretty incredible, I'm not gonna lie,” Korsy said. “I didn't suspect them, but it wasn't impossible. The whole extrovert thing makes sense though. They're very civil and good with magic.” “Are you happy now?” Henderson snapped. “You figured it out. Now what? Do you like me more knowing I'm an elf?” “Whoa, man. Chill,” Korsy said. “It's not like that at all. Just wanted to help you discover something new about yourself. Don't you want to know your background?” “No! I knew my background!” Henderson exclaimed. “I was proud to be what I was! What I knew! People have always tried to tell me that being who and what I am was bad, secondary, unimportant. They wanted me to be something else! But I made myself love me and my skin! I love my black heritage! I don't need to be anything else! Do you understand that?” “I'm not trying to take any of that away from you,” Korsy said. “But, I'm sorry, man, I... I don't know, I thought you'd want to know.” “I've said I didn't want to know,” Henderson reminded. “I don't need you to think for me.” “I'm sorry. I thought...” Korsy didn't know what else to say. “Did you, though? Did you really think?” Henderson asked. “I only let you do this because you're going through some shit right now and you needed a distraction. But this is too far.” Korsy crossed his arms. “Look, man. I said I'm sorry. I don't know what else to tell you. I don't appreciate you insulting me." “Oh, fuck off, honestly,” Henderson said. “I'm done with this.” “You agreed to do this.” “I didn't think you'd actually find anything!” Henderson spat. He went to the door and started pulling on his shoes. “What, you're just leaving?” Theo asked, waddling over. “I'm sorry, Theo. I just gotta go,” Henderson said. “No, this is my fault.” Theo apologised. “I'm sorry, I shouldn't have encouraged him...” “It's fine, okay?” Henderson said opening the door. “I still... I need to breathe.” “Okay...” “I will call you.” “Okay.” Korsy went to follow Henderson. “Listen, let's just talk about this.” “No. Stay here,” Henderson said, stopping him with his hand. “You and Theo can geek out about elf shit and whatever. I gotta go.” “Alright, dude...” Korsy sighed. “I am sorry. Really.” Henderson backed out and just shut the door. “Shit...” Korsy groaned and went back to the couch. He covered his face. “Fucking hell... Am I just pushing away everyone today?” “It's okay... Henderson will calm down,” Theo said, coming back and sitting down. “I think it's just a lot for him to take in... And you didn't push your friend away. Everyone needs time.” Korsy took his hands away and his eyes were tearing up. “I just... I don't want people to be miserable. Not because of me.” “No one wants that, but honestly, they won't be,” Theo said. “I mean, I've been pretty fucking miserable lately, but I do think I’ll get through this... You'll get through this and so will they. And let me handle Henderson.” “Yeah... I'm really sorry I dropped in out of nowhere and dropped all this drama on you,” Korsy said. “I know you've got a lot going on.” “I've pretty much just accepted this stuff, so there's not actually much for me to do, except just keep sitting on my ass...” Theo said. “In a few weeks, I'm supposed to start growing again though. Not looking forward to that.” “Well, you've got good care and I think you're gonna get through it,” Korsy said. “I appreciate that.” Theo patted Korsy's knee. “And don't apologise for looking for help. What's worrying you most about this situation, though?” Korsy took a deep breath. “My friend... He says he doesn't want to be pregnant, and he bought a pill for it... But, I don’t know, I'm worried he'll change his mind? And I can't...I can't be a dad...” “Boy, do I feel that...” Theo said, rubbing his stomach. “But, I mean, I don't know your friend, but if you feel like he feels the same way, then I don't think you should worry about it.” “Yeah, I trust him,” Korsy said. “It's all I can do... And we're not a couple, and he has a pretty small apartment and he seems more work driven than anything, so I think we're okay, but it's just that little chance that's scaring me.” “Well, you said he might not be pregnant at all,” Theo said. “So, it's like there's three ways it could go, and the majority is in favour of no baby.” “Yeah, you're right...” Korsy closed his eyes for a moment. “You're right. Thanks.” “Listen, feel free to stay over if you want,” Theo said. “There's more food, and we could watch more Mando. To keep your head off of things.” “Yeah, if it's alright... If Henderson comes back though, he probably won't want to see me.” “Don't worry about Henderson. You know, we could play Mario Kart first.” “Yeah, so you can challenge my win streak?” “Last time was a fluke.” “Sure. You're on.”

[petrichorvoices]

What your doing right now is GOALS. Great job y'all

THANK YOUUUUU THIS GIVES US THE PERFECT EXCUSE TO TALK ABOUT OUR DAY

ok so pride. holy fucking shit. this was our first pride and it was INCREDIBLE. we were completely decked out with like, half binder, skirt & suspenders, sweatpants rolled up. we had a ton of pins, we had all our jewelry. we stayed up last night drawing pride flags and trans symbols and lyrics all over us, and we still had them today

we got to be in the parade. we got to be in the parade!!!! we were with our uni, we rode on the back of a car, it was incredible. we had an ace flag we were carrying and by far our favourite part of the parade was noticing people with ace flags, waving ours at them, and them waving theirs back at us. we ended up crying during the parade, because holy shit, look at all these people, look at how loudly queer we all are

there were so many incredible people there. we found an aspec group in the city, so we're going to check them out. we saw a group of people in leather and rubber and this one guy had a fucking awesome rubber tail, it moved in such a neat way

there was a festival at the end of the parade, and at the entrance of it there was a pair of religious dudes being all bigoted, so we joined some other people in drowning them out with stuff like "Jesus was trans, you heard it here!"

from there we managed to find our friend {we met him yesterday, she's so fucking cool, and they might end up being our fourth roommate since her roommate is kinda bigoted}, and we walked around for a while. we got some flags!!!! gods it was SO hard to find a gay man flag, literally only one booth had it. but we got a big genderqueer flag, we got a genderqueer sticker for our laptop, it was great

inside this building they had it set up as the wellness centre, so they had a bunch of information on STIs and drug use and whatnot. they were giving out like, free condoms, dental dams, etc, they even had free STI testing right then and there. there was some group there surveying gay men for sexual health awareness or whatever and we got ten bucks out of it which was great

after pride we went grocery shopping for basics, stuff like milk and eggs, and we were perhaps too comfortable walking around the grocery store with "fag" written on our leg but a bunch of other people from pride were there too. afterwards we went home, our friend cooked some stuff, we just hung out for a bit, and now he's on his way back to her place and we're writing this post

it really makes us so incredibly happy that we're here and being who we've always wanted to be, who we know we are. we get to be loud and proud and confident!!!! we're having an incredible time so far and we're excited to be here

[asphalt-cocktail]

reader is in a secret relationship with John and while she’s home alone John comes over, it ends with them making out on her couch and she starts choking him and it gets 🔥✨heated✨🔥 and she straddles him and doms the fUCK outta him and her parents walk in and see them and are like😳🧍‍♀️

Ohhohohohoh I love this. We Stan sub John in this house I’m going to change it up a bit tho. George walks in on them instead and Paul suffers second hand embarrassment

WARNING: dom/sub dynamic, smut, choking, hair pulling, being walked in on, McCartney!reader

Privacy wasn’t the first thing that came in mind as you and John desperately tried to be quiet in the small back room of the cinema he was staying in while in Hamburg.

You’d told people people you were going to Hamburg to visit your brother, Paul, but there was more to that story. You had gone to visit Paul but you also missed John, but that was the big secret. You and John had been secretly together now for almost a full year and hadn’t told anyone. At first it didn’t dawn on you, but then the realization of dating your brothers best friend settled in and you both agreed that Paul would kill John if he ever found out.

John leaned on the back wall of the small twin bed as you straddled him, his hands firmly secured to your hips as the two of you clung to eachother. Your mouths feverishly kissed, all thoughts of poise now out the window. It was a messy collision of tongue and teeth.

Your fingers found themselves laced in johns hair moving through the thick locks that were gummy with styling grease; you grabbed a fist full and pulled. Johns head jolted to the side and he moaned loudly.

Your tough teddy boy was an absolute mess as you both scrambled to take your cloths off and toss them messily about the room. You laid back with your knees up and John settled between them, burying his head between your thighs. He kissed up the sides of the soft plush skin that surrounded his head before he reached the spot he’d been looking for.

You squirmed with anticipation, feeling his hit breath brushing against your skin. Johns tongue darted kit, licking a flat stripe up your wet pussy before he lewdly sucked on your clit. You hummed, feeling his arms wrap securely around your thighs and buried your fingers in his hand. His long thick fingers easily slipped inside and he began pumping them in and out, curling them against your walls and brushing his finger pads against them while he continued to suck and lick at your clit.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your mind began to wander. A part of you knew that John was sleeping with other women while away to Hamburg and a part of you knew you should have been upset but you found that your mind went elsewhere. The thought of Johns face buried between the legs of some nameless bird caused your stomach to clench with arousal.

In a messy tangle of limbs you managed to get John on his back. You were aware you didn’t have much time before George and Paul would drunkenly stumble back from the club but right now that didn’t matter to you. You positioned yourself over John and wasted no time sliding down onto him. You began to move your hips slowly, teasing him, pullling all the way out and sliding all the way down. You loved watching Johns eyes hazily stare at you as he tried to focus through the cloud of lust that has fogged over.

Your fingers ran alongside his jaw and John shivered craning his neck back, “please,” he sighed.

You smirked, “please what?” You asked rubbing your hand along his neck. While you knew he was fucking random birds, you knew there was one thing that only you could do.

John bucked his hips against yours, “choke me please” he whined and desperately craned his head back, exposing his neck.

You ran your hands along his neck as you hips stilled, “look at you,” you hummed sprawling your fingers over his neck, “you’re such a little slut begging for me to choke you, aren’t you?” You asked in a cruel mocking tone

John swallowed thickly and gripped your hips tight in his hands, “fuck, please I want it so bad.” He whined.

You smiled, watching Johns eyes plead up at you, “come on,” you said and tapped the rusty head board bars with your hand, “arms up”

John nodded his head and gripped the bare tightly with one hand while his other settled on your wrist, reminding you that John had all the control here. Your hips began to move once more, sliding up and down before you tightened your fingers and applied pressure to Johns throat.

John grunted and his brows knit together, “tighter,” he said in a strained voice and squeezed your wrist.

You happily obliged, squeezing tighter. Johns stilled his hips and his hand gripped the bar of the headboard tightly, you watched the muscles of his arm flex and unflex, and watched as the rosiness from his cheeks spread across his face. As Johns eyes began to water he squeezed your wrist and you let go, watching as he gasped and tried to regain his breath.

“More,” he greedily whined.

You applied more pressure to his throat and moaned feeling his cock sliding in and out of you as you rode him, “you like it when I choke you?” You asked.

Johns face contorted with pleasure and he struggled to nod his head, “harder,” he choked out in a strained voice and pulled at your wrist.

You gripped him harder until he squeezed your wrist and you let go, John gasped “fuck,” he coughed out with tears running down his face, his eyes struggled to focus on you, and his head foggy with pleasure snd lack of oxygen. John placed your hand back on his neck snd you gripped him again with force, feeling his thighs clenching as he tried to desperately not to finish.

Johns eyes fluttered shut and his mouth lewdly hung open, “you gonna come for me baby?” You asked your hips slapping against his. John didn’t answer, you suspected he was too lost in his own hazy world, “fuck,” you sighed, “are you gonna come inside me?” You asked grinding your hips down, “Come on Johnny, you’re such a good boy, letting me fuck you like this.” You babbled as you too were soon lost in your own little world, the filter than ran from your brain to your mouth almost fully disconnected.

You could feel Johns jaw clench before it opened and he let out a strangled groaning gasp as you let go of his throat at the perfect second and he spilled inside you. His arms wrapped around you snd pulled you flush against his chest as he continued to pump his hips into you, yelling out a string of profanity.

You kissed all over his face and rubbed your hands along his neck, “you did so good, baby” you said between kisses, “you’re such a good boy.” Suddenly you froze, realizing the door had open and close. “Did you hear the door open?” You asked trying to get off John.

John securely wrapped his arms around you and prevented you from moving, “who fucking cares if we did. just stay here a minute, yeah?” He said, his words sounding lazy and drunk as he spoke and buried his face into your neck.

You laid there with John, feeling him soften inside you and tried to enjoy your post coital cuddling but you found yourself distracted. Did someone open the door? Who opened it? You silently prayed Paul hadn’t and it had been Stu or George. “Shut up.” John grunted in the silence

“I didn’t say anything” you said looking up at him? Frowning.

John looked down at you, his eyes red and tear stained, “you’re thinking too loud. Sounds like a bleeding circus in here.” He joked.

“Stop I really think someone walked in on us.” You frowned.

John rolled his eyes, “should have paid us for the show he got.” He mumbled before kissing your cheek and moving to get cleaned up.

After the two of you tried to ready yourselves and disguise the sinful acts that were committed in a few short minutes earlier you walked out from the back room and sighed in relief when you noticed no one there.

“See no ones here, probably a ghost.” John joked, now back in his leathers with his pair perfectly combed.

You made the shirt walk back to the club sti unsure of yourself, but your questions were soon answered when you saw Paul’s face immediately turn red when he saw the ou walking back in, John following a shirt while after so as to not rouse suspicion. It wasn’t the same drunken red splotches he would get after drinking too much.

No.

This was a red that spread from his neck, to the tips of his ears and practically made him glow. It was embarrassment.

The way George, Pete, and Stu practically screamed, doubled over with laughter also confirmed it.

“Oh my god.” You buried your face in your hands and had hoped you would simply disappear into the background, melt into the sticky beer stained floor, be gone forever.

Johns face also turned red, but instead of embarrassment it was from anger, “will you lot shut your traps.” He hissed walking towards them.

You followed John, keeping your head low and avoiding Paul’s gaze, it helped because he was also avoiding you. You knew the boys were desperately holding back smart ass comments, for fear of not only Paul’s wrath but also John’s.

After they quieted down and the drinks started flowing you still tried to maintain the appearance that you and John weren’t together, maybe it was all a misunderstanding, maybe no one had walked in on you choking the life out of John Lennon.

Paul was the first to break the silence between the two of you, it didn’t surprise you “why John? Of all people.” He whined covering his face with his hands once again.

Embarrassment once again covered your face, “what do you mean?” You asked trying to lie unsuccessfully.

“Oh come on, George walked in on you two and came back and told everyone.”

You let out a sigh of relief, “oh thank god I thought it was you.” You let out a puff of air. “I don’t think I’d be able to live if you saw anything.”

Paul rolled his eyes, “I’d have to cut me eyes out.” The two of you nodded in agreement, “just be careful with John, yeah he’s a lot to handle.”

You pursed your lips, “I thought you were going to kill him you know?” You said honestly looking over at John who was talking with Stu and George.

Paul frowned, “I might still.” He answered honestly, “not right now though, only if things go bad.” Paul said and pulled you into a side hug

You leaned your head on Paul’s shoulder and laughed at Paul’s comment before the two of you began to walk back toward the trio of men.

“What’s it feel like?” You heard George ask

They were unaware of your and Paul’s presence as you approached.

“What? gettin choked?” John asked causing Paul to choke on and spit out his drink, his face once again turning red, “it’s nice, feels like you’re floating but you can’t let just any bird do it, you’ve got to have trust built.”

You didn’t know if you felt warm from the embarrassment or warm from Johns kind words. You came up to John and buried your face in his back as you wrapped your arms around him. John turned to the side and shifted, sliding his arm protectively around your waste and moving you to his side, “Georgie is paying us for the peep show he got earlier, isn’t that right George?” John asked narrowing his eyes at the younger man.

[doberbutts]

smokemirrorswolves replied to your post

“The rising price of puppies is so heartbreaking for a lot of people....”

@doberbutts hey, if you had time at some point, would you care to break down what exactly is reflected in the price of a purebred puppy? I think a lot of people are struggling to imagine what could cost that amount of money, me among them tbh. thank you!

Sure, though I don’t breed, so it’s very possible I might be missing something!

Cost of the litter itself:

whelping box with or without rails

pen

potty supplies for puppies- pads, litter, bags, scoopers, etc

heating pads or lamps

formula and bottles (just in case)

medications and supplements (not always needed, good to have on hand)

blankets, beds

toys

colored puppy collars for identification (not always needed)

vaccinations (at least the first one)

deworming (several)

food (for mom AND pups)

temperament testing (if the breeder does not do it themselves- and even if they do, one must learn how which usually costs $$ or time to be mentored)

if puppy culture is used, understand that it costs a lot of money to get ahold of the materials for it

even if it is not used, proper early socialization, stress response, training and drives, etc require time, money, knowledge, and equipment

at least one vet check before going home

registration with AKC

microchip (some breeders have you do it but all of my breeder puppies had this done before going home)

cropping/docking (if applicable, understand this is why dobes cost so much bc that’s $400-700 PER PUPPY unless the vet cuts you a deal for doing the whole litter)

increased water and electric and trash costs - utilities ain’t cheap

overall time spent with the puppies (most breeders if not retired take off work to whelp and raise a litter... that’s 8+ weeks of either vacation pay or no pay at all)

travel costs to and from vets, new owners, etc

Cost of PRODUCING the litter:

stud dog fee (not applicable if using their own stud)

health testing on the parents (variable, can be as low as $100 per parent or as high as several thousand, obv if they don’t own the stud they don’t pay for that)

if using live cover- either travelling to the stud or having the stud go there

if using AI- that’s already pretty expensive

C-section (if applicable, always good to have the money on hand just in case)

multiple vet visits and travel costs for the bitch (confirm pregnancy, canine STI check, making sure to breed when she’s hormonal most likely to conceive, etc)

supplements and high quality food for the bitch

medications to help induce or ease labor

treatments to help the bitch let milk down or clear an infected/impacted teat

medical supplies for the human to ensure a sanitary and safe environment to whelp (gloves etc)

Cost of the parents:

general care (food, physicals, vaccinations, etc)

titling (if applicable)

training

obtaining the dog in the first place

So what does this exactly mean? Let’s say a low-ball estimate is $8000 for the first two factors combined (so not cost of parents) (and that IS a fairly low estimate, at least for dobermans). Now let’s say that the bitch produces 8 puppies. Selling them at $1000 apiece means the breeder breaks even, and that also means time and money was actually lost as the cost sunk into the parents hasn’t been factored in yet.

Let’s say the breeder owns both parents and bought them at $1000 each. The low end of the average cost per year for dogs is $1500- so with both dogs that’s $3000 per year. Dogs should be at least two years old before breeding, so we’re at $6000 (general care) + $2000 (purchase price) if this is the first litter for both of them. Titling can really depend, some breeds title very quickly and easily for under $1000. Others take several thousands to finish. Let’s just say an incredibly conservative estimate is $500 per dog- we’re now at $9000 for the cost of the parents.

So if that breeder wants to break even, they can’t even just double the price ($2000 per puppy) because they’re still taking a $1000 loss. Now the puppies need to cost $2125.

Let’s hope a puppy doesn’t die, or that no fluke accidents or weird health concerns pop up, because things are about to get even more expensive very quickly if that happens. Let’s say the breeder wants to keep one- that means that there are actually 7 puppies that can be sold, not 8. Now the puppies have to cost roughly $2430 and there’s a very slight profit of about $10 there.

What if they don’t own both parents, just the bitch? Well that takes our estimations down by half, so now the litter cost $12500 to make. The 7 puppies can be priced all the way down to $1785 while taking a loss of a couple dollars. Oops, the stud owner wants one on top of their stud fee, make that 6 puppies- now they’re back up to over $2000 again.

Remember when I said these are low estimates? Okay, so let’s gauge high estimates:

Even with no complications the highest I’ve seen for total breeding expenses was $25000. Even if you sell all 8 puppies at cost, so a zero profit margin... that’s $3125 per puppy.

God help you, and your buyers, if your bitch whelps less than that, if there’s a complication, if for whatever reason a puppy is not sellable.

Creed’s breeder spent $10k on stud fee, AI, emergency C-section, and resulting infection cost alone. Her bitch gave her one single puppy. She usually charged $2k per puppy. Do you see the problem here?

Additionally there’s this weird like... stigma about making money breeding animals. Listen, yes, capitalism ruins everything, and the focus should be on the animals and not the amount of zeros in your bank account... but at the same time, whelping by itself is a lot of work and dogs are a fairly expensive hobby. As a dog trainer, an artist, a programmer... I demand payment and profit for my work. I cannot eat if I only break even. Yet breeders are told that it’s bad to make money off their dogs and that they have to have some other source of income. Why? There’s a line to be balanced here on getting fair payment for the amount of work they’re putting in vs pricing themselves out of the market. 

[ddaenggtan]

from eden | myg + jhs

you've been in the dark a long time, overworked and exhausted. the only bright point is your gatekeeper, hoseok, your closest friend and the man you love but can't have. you've accepted that loneliness is inevitable for you. when a voice calls to you, though, and moves you so deeply that you rip open the earth to help them, you meet a mint-haired boy that changes everything you thought you knew about your prison. | monsters and gods pt 1 (masterlist)

pairing | yoongi x reader x hoseok

genre/warnings | greek god au, hades!reader, thanatos!hoseok, persephone!yoongi, fluff, angst, smut, mild depictions of violence, mentions of blood (well, blood equivalent, bc gods), pining, depictions of abusive parenting, v v brief panic attack (seriously, I don’t go into a ton of detail, but it’s enough, pls don’t read this if that triggers you at all), love triangle (kind of), polyamory, , mutual masturbation, oral (female receiving), face-sitting, fingering, dick-riding, double penetration, unprotected sex (gods can't get sti's but u can! Wrap it b4 u tap it!), creampie, everyone hates Zeus but what's new, demeter sucks and is the literal worst

word count | 15.6k | cross posted to ao3  monsters and gods masterlis

a/n | hello! i’ve renamed this fic at least ten times, but it’s here!! the first part of monsters and gods!!! i keep seeing hades!yoongi (who i LOVE, don’t get me wrong, seriously you should check out @/seokoloqy’s hades yoongi fics because they’re PHENOM) and while I love hades yoongs, I also keep seeing him in flower crowns and being soft and sweet and, as we know by now, I am ultimately a slut for soft bangtan. so this happened. and then i thought ‘wow this mc is dark af i need some contrast here’ and that’s how thanatos hobi happened, also i couldn’t stop thinking of his Judgement Face, which is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, and how fast he switches between that and his smile, plus.....sope, I mean. c’mon. sope. and then it all kinda spiraled into a whole series of fics, only one other of which is even started tho its close to being finished whoops lmao so yeah!!!! pls tell me what u think, i’m not used to writing angst at all, so it may not be suuuuuuper prevalent in this, but i tried!!! also i really recommend listening to hozier while you read it bc i had his first album on repeat while writing it and from eden fits this pretty well imo!!!

It's dark when you open your eyes. You've spent so long down here, you're used to it, but the shadows always seem to make the air colder than it should be. Though you suppose the land of the dead isn't supposed to be warm.

You stretch and wince at the crick in your spine. Another night sitting at your desk, greek fire burning through the hours so that you can scratch away at the papers in front of you. Your siblings always enjoy doing whatever they want, using mortals and throwing them away however they please, cleaning up after each other whenever they can spare the time.

No one ever seems to think about you, nor do they remember the chaos up top only worsens your constant migraines.

No, instead they start their wars and slaughter their enemies and are absolutely oblivious about the fact that the Meadow is at 80% capacity as it is, with more souls arriving each day. Thanatos did well at his job, as did Charon, and you were always sure to be thankful to them, but you wish, not for the first time, that there was someone - anyone - to help with your work.

Your brothers have the naiads, the winds, and the lesser gods to help them with their oceans and skies. Gods of vengeance and retribution help with war, while the fertility goddesses and the muses aid the lovelorn.

And yet here you are, still alone after all these years. Millenia, you've been stuck down here, forced to live out your days in the cold darkness and manage the dead mortals. You've always been introverted, even before you drew lots with your siblings, but never like this. You've tried to leave, of course; at first making short visits to Olympus or the mortal realm, just to speak to another living soul again, someone else who understands what it's like to be trapped in your own life. It seems like every time you came back, though, the underworld had gotten smaller and smaller, nearly suffocating you in an attempt to keep its claws in your skin. And then, of course, came the curse.

You haven't felt the sun on your skin in nearly a thousand years, and while you've always been one for the shade, you miss it. You miss the smell of the flowers in the temples, you miss the sound of the river as it babbles past, you want to feel the warm summer breeze ruffle your hair as you stand in the middle of a marketplace. You're tired of the Fields, you're bored of walking the streets of Elysium with the weight of their stares at your back, sick of standing at the steps to the Isles and wondering if it is, truly, euphoric and if any mortal would ever find out. You don't wear your sandals around the palace anymore; you don't want to hear the footsteps echo. It's just a reminder that you are, truly, alone.

Even the other deities in the Underworld have stopped calling on you. The aura that surrounds you is enough to wilt most any plant, unnerve most every animal, and the gods are no exception. The only exceptions are Hecate, who makes it her personal mission to bribe you into visiting the Meadow if only for a moment, and Thanatos when he can slip away for longer than a moment to distract you from your work. They rarely succeed, but it's the thought that counts, you suppose.

You muse on this as you walk, bare feet skimming lightly over the soil of the Meadow as you make your way to the Gates. You could probably just shadow-walk, if you wanted, you do enjoy giving your Thanatos a fright, but you figure the walk would do you good. There’s no one to bother you as go, thankfully. The dead wander aimlessly around you. There's no acknowledgment as you pass; there's never any recognition of anything in the Meadow, the price mortals pay for being so utterly inconsequential and mundane.

You smile when you see that your friend is busy, and you give a silent command to Cerberus not to alert the man to your presence. The dog whines a little, but sits back on his haunches, shaking the ground as he does so. You're silent as you move up behind the judge.

"You wanted me to tell you my judgment and I have," Hoseok says firmly. "You could have gone straight to the Asphodel Meadow and existed in relative peace for eternity, and instead you request a hearing, and then have the gall to question my decision?" You grimace slightly; perhaps putting Hoseok in charge of judging the souls was not the best idea, but he has yet to be wrong about someone.

"Please, sir," The mortal whimpers. He's on his knees, suit crumpled and dirty where he sits. "I was only doing what I thought was best, please, surely that matters."

"You used children!" Hoseok says in shock. "As slaves! It's 2019 and you had nearly a hundred seven-year-olds sewing clothes together in a cramped warehouse with one bathroom. You seriously expect me to give you leniency because you thought that was best?"

"Their families would have starved without that money," The mortal says. He's on the verge of tears, which has always made you uncomfortable, so you stay hidden for now. "I kept them all fed and safe, didn't I? What would they have done without me? Gone to work in some factory, with dangerous machines and cruel managers, whipped every time they needed to eat?"

"You used children as nearly free labor, barely allowed them time to piss, fed them once every twelve hours, and you expect that to be okay because they could’ve had it worse," Hoseok says. Disgust drips from his voice and you’re inclined to agree with the sentiment. "I respect your opinion, but you are to be punished for your deeds fittingly." Hoseok snaps and two of the Bones come over. These two are in desert camo, one barely tall enough to be an adult judging by the skeletal build, but their grip is unforgiving as they cart the mortal off to the Fields. You don’t even need to mold together a punishment for him; the warehouse you sent others who’d done the same wasn’t quite crowded enough yet.

"Well, that was fun," You call, and delight at the way Hoseok jumps nearly a foot in the air. He glares at you as he turns and you don't bother to hide the smirk on your face. "Child slavery, huh? In this day and age?"

Hoseok tsks. "I know we used to allow some crazy shit back in the old days, but you'd think that people would know better by now. Using children like that, kids…” He trails off, still fuming, and you nod.

“I know.” You pull a piece of lint off his suit with a wrinkle of your nose. “You made the right decision if it helps.”

“I know I did,” He says with a smirk. “I always do.” You roll your eyes and turn away from him, watching the lines of souls head through the gates to their eternal blandness. It's the best way to hide the flush he brings to your cheeks. “What brings you out here, though? Aren’t you supposed to be doing something important?”

“Don’t I wish,” You mutter. “All I’ve got to do is figure out how to expand the realm again without Zeus’ approval.”

“Wait, he didn’t approve the expansion?” You shake your head and step closer to where Cerberus is laying, all three heads focused entirely on you as you rub his middle nose. “Where does he think we’re going to put all of the souls, up your ass?”

“Clearly,” You spit.

“I know it’s not exactly great down here and that they would all rather be thrown into the Pit than visit, but they need to sometimes. If only to see what it’s like. I mean, honestly, what do they expect us to do, just toss everyone in the Meadow and call it a day until there are so many that they’re tripping into Elysium? What the f-”

“Thanatos,” You say quietly, and Hoseok stops. It’s not often that you call him by his title rather than his name, preferring the familiarity of his friendship over the detachment of your positions. “Even here, the gods have ears. You know better than to criticize them like that.”

He huffs but nods his head. You press a kiss to Cerb’s middle nose and coo at him until he starts wagging his tail. When you turn back around, Hoseok is stumbling to keep his balance on the shaking ground. You laugh, which he does not appreciate, but before he can say anything in his defense, another soul is escorted to him by a Bones. The guy is already pleading with Hoseok, who’s returned to the stony mask he usually wears. The silver aura that surrounds him always brings you comfort, reminding you of the moonlight that bathes the surface world, but it has turned colder and is as deadly as mercury. You envy the way he can switch back and forth between his professional mask and the bright, loving man you know; if only it were that easy for you. Without so much as a wave, you weave the shadows around you once more, ignoring the soul's cries to you for mercy, and let yourself disappear into the darkness.

When you emerge from the shadows, you settle at the base of your garden tree. The only living thing that would grow down here, the sole reminder of the world above. Its branches show that it should be close to the harvest soon, maybe a month away at the most. You reach up, weaving through the darkness to pluck a pomegranate from the tree. You don't even like pomegranates anymore, you think as you inspect it. Ripe, juicy, and utterly disgusting; the gods' idea of a joke. The thing that brought about your isolation, your solitude, yet it continues to be the only thing that grows in this wasteland.

You laugh bitterly before tossing the fruit up in the air, letting it fly through the shadows to land beside Hoseok, whatever he's doing. He always appreciates your little gifts, the only real thing you can do to show that you aren't cross with him and are glad for the work he does. He's long been stuck here with you, but the fruit doesn't turn to bile on his tongue the way it does yours. Perhaps the willingness he had that first time made a difference.

Please.

You glance around, looking for the voice that suddenly echoes around you. It's soft, a memory of a whisper. It's not rare for you to hear the voices of the dead in your realm, but this is different. This one strikes you to your core, for this…

This one sounds hopeful.

The prayers that make their way to you are never hopeful. They are sad or angry or scared, always filled with tears and regret and more than a little hesitancy, but never do they have any shred of hope in them.

You stand, eyes narrowed as you look through the darkness for whatever soul may be calling to you.

Please. I don't want to go back. Don't let her take me.

Without thinking, you reach into the shadows. The blackness swirls around your fingers, unsure where you're trying to go. You don't know yourself, and you wish you did. You aren't sure why you're doing this; you rarely answer prayers, least of all the ones that don't mention you specifically, but something in this voice calls to you. It resonates in your chest, shakes your very being because you remember that feeling. You remember the way it felt to be free, standing in the sun and clawing at the earth as Gaia dragged you back down to your post, tears mixing with the dirt as you pleaded, begged her not to take you back down there.

With a jerk, you pull the shadows apart, and the ground quakes above you. You watch, anxiety pooling in your gut, and it's only the intensity of your focus that lets you see it: a figure, falling limply through the earth that you've opened. The string of curses you let out would make even Ares blush, and it's with a rush you haven't felt in millennia that you weave the shadows together into a net and toss it upwards. The figure falls into it with ease, shadows wrapping around the body to glide gently downwards until they can deposit the person with ease at the roots of your tree.

Your breath catches in your throat as the darkness recedes, revealing soft mint hair with flowers woven into it, pale green robes that are sliced nearly in half at the back and caked with mud. The man is beautiful and soft and bright, every inch the antithesis to your own black and grey clothes. You hesitate to even look at him, too afraid of dulling that sun-kissed skin with the death you carry on your fingertips.

His brow furrows and he winces, though his eyes remain closed. You blink owlishly before guiding the shadows around him once more; when you're sure he's secure, you pull him along behind you until you reach the only spare room you have in the palace. You situate him on the bed there, fluffing pillows and smoothing blankets until you can almost pretend he fell asleep there of his own accord. With pursed lips, you assign three of your Bones to watch him; one just inside the door and two outside of it, just in case whatever he was running from attempts to come for him.

You don't want to leave him, but you have work to do, and the land of the dead cannot rule itself.

It's dark when he opens his eyes. There is Greek fire in the corner, and shadows dancing on the walls around it, but he cannot make out much else. When he sits up and slides his feet off what feels like a bed, he hisses. The marble is cold and unforgiving against the bare skin of his feet and he doesn't know of any feeling like it. He's too accustomed to the dirt and grass from his mother's domain, and even the white marble of Olympus was warm to the touch. This is different. Alarming. New.

He eventually works up the nerve to stand fully. Looking around, he doesn't see any kind of light sources other than the brazier in the corner, so he grips one of the coals in his palm and uses that bit of light to find the door. The fire tingles against his skin, but he's long since grown used to holding fire in his palms for his mother. The warmth is comforting for a brief moment before the image of his mother flashes through his mind. He flinches at the memory of her face, twisted with wrath, and the stone drops out of his grip before he can catch it.

The marble of the wall is cool against his back as he slides to the ground, knees brought up to his chest and his eyes screwed shut against the darkness. There's a vice around his chest and he can't breathe and he can't see and he doesn't have any idea where he is or if he's even alive or if she's stuffed him somewhere he'll never be able to escape and the thought makes his head spin as the air catches in his throat and gods don't even truly need to breathe and yet he can feel the cold claws of death tighten around his throat and all he can see in his final moments is the horrifying face of his mother's anger and he can feel the vines and roots around his ankles once more and-

"Who the hell are you?"

He looks up, pushing the sweat-covered hair out of his eyes. There's a man, in the darkness, who exudes a faint silver light around him that illuminates the walls and black marble floor. The man doesn't seem angry that he's there, or even all that surprised; just curiously resigned. There are so many questions on the tip of his tongue, so much he wants - needs - to know but only one makes it past the rock lodged in his windpipe.

"Am I dead?"

The man frowns and shakes his head. "I seriously doubt it, since you didn't cross the river." The man looks him over, taking in the flushed skin and sweat beads and the purple robes he donned the moment he decided to run and seems to decide something. He crouches down so he's eye level, poised on the balls of his feet with his elbows on his knees, and even in a full suit, he looks impeccably put-together. "I'm Thanatos. You can call me Hoseok. If you'll let me, I'd like to take you to someone who probably has a better idea of what you're doing here." All he can do is nod, and Hoseok extends a hand, which he uses to bring himself to a shaky stand.

"I'm Yoongi," He says, hesitant and quiet. "Um, I'm Kore. Or, Persephone. Either one."

"I think I'll stick with Yoongi," Hoseok says. His smile lights the hallway that Yoongi stands in, and it eases something inside him, though he isn't sure what. Hoseok doesn't let go of his hand as he guides Yoongi through the corridors, and talks to him the entire time. He speaks of his duties there, souls he's judged that day, ones he wished he could do more for, comforts Yoongi when a walking skeleton in Roman armor passes him and explains that those are the security force of the palace. By the time they make it to a large room, lit on each side with braziers of Greek fire that give the room an eerie glow, Yoongi has a fairly good idea of where he is, and who Hoseok is taking him to see.

The large ebony throne at the end of the room and the black-robed figure sitting atop it only confirms his fears.

When Hoseok enters the throne room, you're only slightly surprised. It wasn't entirely uncommon for him to take a break from his judicial duties, and so long as there were plenty of Bones to watch the gates, you had no issues. Years would sometimes pass before Hoseok needed to return, relieving the judgment council once more and returning them to their own afterlives.

To see him shadowed by the mint-haired boy you pulled through the earth, however, is a shock.

You set the papers you'd been writing at to the side. Your robes, woven from shadows and dipped in the Styx, swirl around your bare feet as you move to sit correctly with your back straight instead of lounging as you'd been doing before. The darkness you’d brought forth to cushion your chair, plump and fat and soft underneath you, shifts as well, keeping the hard edge of the marble from digging into your skin. Hoseok stifles a smile at the sight and you narrow your eyes at him. You wish he'd say something about it, the punk.

"What can I do for you, Hoseok?" You eventually ask as he and his companion reach the steps just below your throne. Even now, you can barely bring your eyes away from the boy behind him; he's radiant, the light in the room seemingly drawn to him despite the way he's slouched into himself.

"I was just wondering if you knew how this young man came to be in the underworld, my lady," Hoseok says. Your eyes dart back to him and you can't help the way your heart softens at the soft silver shine around him. You look to the mint-haired god again; his eyes dart around nervously as if he expects something to jump out at him, and he's close enough to Hoseok that if the other were to step back, they'd both likely fall to the floor.

You lean forward in your throne, doing your best to project a calm and friendly air to the shorter of the two gods. "Do you not remember?" You ask quietly. Your eyes don't leave his big brown ones, and you can see the moment the panic sets in. "It's fine, you don't need to answer me. Just know that you're safe here."

"Yoongi?" Hoseok says quietly, drawing the boy's attention. "Hey, it's alright. We're not gonna let anything happen." It takes several minutes but eventually the boy - Yoongi, apparently - nods. He hasn't relaxed at all, but he doesn't seem like he's about to bolt out of your throne room, so you consider it a success.

"You were praying," You tell him softly. "You asked for my help, so I gave it, as best I could. I don't think you meant for your words to reach me, but they did." Yoongi frowns ever so slightly as he takes in the knowledge. There's a hint of anxiety in his face, his brow furrowed adorably, but he doesn't startle when Hoseok rests a hand on his shoulder. He looks up, though, and the two of them seem to have a silent conversation. Something settles in your stomach, seeing the ease with which Hoseok interacts with him, and you swallow down the lump in your throat. It's ridiculous to feel anything like this; Hoseok is your subordinate and friend, and you've hardly known Yoongi for five minutes.

"He can stay here, right?" Hoseok asks. You look to Yoongi, wondering if he even wants to stay, if he even wants to be here at all or if he wished someone else had answered his prayers. Hoseok calls your name softly and your gaze flicks to him. "Can he stay?"

You find that you're debating with yourself. Yoongi clearly doesn't belong here; he is soft and sweet and gentle and completely at odds with the harsh, depressive atmosphere that lingers in your palace. He looks terrified even now as he takes in the room, eyes lingering on the bones that were fused together to make your throne. And yet...you cannot escape the fear and hope that had echoed in his prayer, the sheer desperation that someone would help him. He had been running and terrified, which could only mean that he was being chased by something or someone, and you couldn't force him out if he was in danger.

"If you would like to stay," You say after a moment too long, "Then you are, of course, more than welcome to do so." You rise from your throne, shadows dissipating as you do, and take a couple of tentative steps toward the pair. He doesn't shrink back in fear, which you take as a good sign. "The guest quarters will be yours to do with as you please. Hoseok can show you around the palace and grounds, so you don't get lost, and the Bones can bring you anything you require." You move to press a hand to Hoseok's arm, and you level him with a careful look.

"Of course, my lady," Hoseok says. He turns to Yoongi with a radiant smile. "And you can leave whenever you'd like."

"Of course," You agree quickly. "Hoseok can take you back and forth across the river as you wish. Charon can be quite fussy about it." Several times, your guests have been stuck on the wrong side of the river until someone brought your ferryman his payment. Yoongi looks slightly less terrified, and in the emerald glow of the fires, you notice how wide his eyes are. "Oh! You're from the surface, of course, I forgot."

With a snap of your fingers, the sconces along the walls light themselves, and the candles ringing the large chandelier in the center of your throne room surge to life as well. Yoongi startles a little, stepping closer to Hoseok.

"Ah, I forget you surfacers can't see as well down here," Hoseok mutters. "We'll get you a candlestick as well, just in case." He nods to you, Yoongi copying him in a most adorable way. They're halfway out of the room when a thought occurs to you.

"Yoongi?" You call after him. He turns, and the green halo around him makes your heart falter. "Don't eat the pomegranates. Not even the seeds." His brow furrows in confusion but he gives a hesitant nod before he turns and hurries after Hoseok.

As much as your chest aches for him, you won't subject him to this life. You watch him go and wonder how long he'll last in this hellscape.

When their shadows have long disappeared from the walls, you turn and retake your seat on the throne. With a wave, a small team of Bones appears in front of you - the same uniforms, with the same unit numbers, stamped on their dog tags, and the same haunted look where their eyes once were - and you do a quick count. Ten should do fine for what you need.

"Scour the earth. Do not speak to anyone. Find out what he was running from, and if it still searches for him. Don't let anyone see you, and don't let anyone know why you're looking. Return if you're in danger. Report to me immediately." They salute, and you watch their forms slowly disappear, becoming more and more transparent until they glide upwards and through the cracks in the ceiling.

You sit back and wonder how long it will take for you to get answers, and if it will be before or after Yoongi realizes he's too good for this place.

Yoongi is quiet. That's the first thing Hoseok notices about him. He doesn't initiate conversation, really, instead content to listen to Hoseok talk about the various souls he's judged and the occasional escape attempts someone has made. At first, when Yoongi speaks, he's quiet, like he doesn't really want - or expect - to be heard, and he always looks pleasantly surprised when Hoseok answers his question or responds to his comments.

It makes his heart ache, and he wonders what exactly Yoongi has gone through to make him so shocked that anyone would actually listen to what he has to say. It takes weeks for him to warm enough to Hoseok to start speaking more often, to ask questions about his day, to actually request specific things. The day Yoongi asked Hoseok, soft and hesitant, if he could show him the Meadow and the tree, Hoseok almost cried. Yoongi was so obviously ready to be told no, fully expectant for Hoseok to decline such a simple request, and it only reinforced Hoseok's need to give the god everything he could ever want.

"What are you doing, Yoongi?" Hoseok asks when he looks up. They're at the gates, Hoseok in the usual position, eyes roving over the lines of souls slowly shuffling forward, and Yoongi sitting nearby. Cerberus is curled up behind him, dwarfing the god with his massive body, all three heads snoring and slobbering as they sleep haphazardly on top of each other. Yoongi glances up at Hoseok as he grabs another flower from the basket beside him.

"I'm making Cerb some flower crowns," Yoongi answers as if it was obvious. Hoseok frowns.

"Flower crowns?" He echoes. "What's a flower crown?"

Yoongi gives him a disbelieving stare. "It's a bath salt. What the fuck do you think it is, Hobi? It's a crown made of flowers." Hoseok is caught off guard by the sarcasm, as he has been every time Yoongi has spouted off some kind of sass to him. He strides over and crouches beside the mint god to watch him.

Yoongi's fingers are sure and steady as he weaves the stems of the flowers together. It's already half-dozen, Hoseok thinks, the crocus blossoms blending together prettily and not straying in the slightest from where he places them. Hoseok hasn't ever seen anything like it, and he's entranced by the way Yoongi's fingers move and the way the flowers seem to just do whatever he wants without much coaxing on his part.

"I had the Bones bring me back a basket from their last excursion," Yoongi says. "Since none grow here." He stops with one last crocus and eyes it critically before apparently deciding it was good enough. Hoseok can't take his eyes off the thing, enraptured even as Yoongi sets it gently on his head. Hoseok can feel his eyes widen and his cheeks flush red.

"Thanks," He says after a second, one hand darting up to steady the crown as he shifts his weight. He smiles, unable to help himself and poses. "What do you think? Does it suit me?"

"Ugh, you wish," Yoongi says. Hoseok can see the smile in his eyes and is satisfied with the mirth threatening to bubble past Yoongi's lips.

"Y'know," Hoseok says after a while, hands in his pockets as he watches Yoongi make the second crown for Cerb. "I bet if you planted some seeds near the pomegranate tree, they'd grow." Yoongi's hands stop moving, his eyes drifting up to look past Hoseok. Something similar to excitement hides behind his eyes, and Hoseok wants nothing more than to bring it out to shine. Yoongi cocks a brow as if to say 'really' and Hoseok nods.

The gummy smile he gets in return, full of hope and light that the underworld hasn't ever seen before, is well worth the potential scolding you may give him for suggesting Yoongi fiddle with the tree's courtyard. And the way he keeps the flower crown nearby, hanging off a hook on the gates long after the blossoms have wilted and died, is worth the shy smile Yoongi gets every time he sees it.

You don't see Yoongi for the first few weeks he's there. Not really. You catch glimpses when he passes through the palace halls with Hoseok, and he sits with Cerberus while you visit Hoseok at the gates, but he makes no effort to seek you out, and you respect that distance. You can't bring yourself to force your company on him. You're an acquired taste; Hoseok has been in this realm for so long that he's accustomed to the darkness that follows you, the aura of death and despair that usually surrounds you. He's been surrounded by the dead almost as long as you have, so you know he can't be affected by it. Yoongi, though…

Yoongi is life. He's the springtime blossoms in a summer breeze, he's the sound of birds chirping in the treetops, he's vibrant and fresh and lovely and you cannot ruin that. You can't watch him wither away like a winter garden, you can't watch the color drain from his skin until he's just as much a ghost as the souls that wander the Meadow, you can't let him become just as dead as everything else in this cursed place.

So you leave him be. You offer curt nods when you see him with Hoseok and polite waves because giving any more of yourself to him without letting yourself get closer would be too dangerous. Even with the distance you keep, your chest tightens with every smile that graces his lips, you ache to hear his voice even just once, and it's too much. It's too much for someone you haven't even had a real conversation with. Someone who looks at you with apprehension and anxiety, yet brings undeniable joy to the man you've always held in your heart.

It's too much for you to feel like this for someone who makes Hoseok smile as if he's seeing sunlight for the first time in thousands of years. You love Hoseok too much to stand anywhere near them.

You've been avoiding both of them for days. You can't bear to see Yoongi's gummy smile and Hoseok's adorable dimples as they gaze at each other, and you're busy enough to make a decent excuse for it. Expansion isn't difficult, but keeping it quiet is. Plus you've been on the hunt to figure out what had been after Yoongi with such ferocity that it sliced right through his robes and had him praying to anyone who would listen.

You had a few helpful leads, but nothing concrete, and it was more than a little frustrating. Which is why you find yourself stepping out of the shadows of the pomegranate tree, hopeful that it could help to ease even just part of the emotions rolling in your gut.

The sight of Yoongi surprises you, even more so when you see that he's on his knees beside the tree with dirt covering his hands and a smidge of something on his cheek. He looks absolutely wondrous, like everything you've been missing from the world above, and it would bring tears to your eyes if you let it because he's so far out of your reach.

"Hi," You say after a long debate with yourself. Yoongi's head shoots up and he fixes wide eyes on you. He reminds you of the ones who come to you with no memory of what's happened to them, scared and alone and about to get the worst news of their lives. "What are you doing?"

"I'm sorry," He says immediately. "I didn't mean to, not really. You just said not to eat them, and I'm not, so I thought it would be okay. Hobi suggested it and you two are so close that I figured he'd know if you'd be upset."

"I'm not upset." Your voice is as gentle as you can make it. "I'm just curious. Hoseok didn't mention anything to me, and no one really comes here."

"Oh." The relief is palpable as it courses through him, and he looks back down at the ground in front of him. "I'm just planting some flowers so I can make more crowns for Hobi and Cerb. The others died so fast, and I don't want to keep sending the Bones out to get more if I don't have to."

"Oh, you made the flower crown for Hoseok?" You'd figured as much. No one else in the underworld knew how to make them, and Yoongi was the only consistently around him. "He showed me that, it was gorgeous."

"Obviously, it was made by me, after all," Yoongi spouts. You gape at him, and he gives you a contrite grimace. "I'm sorry, my lady Hades, I forgot who I was with for a moment. It won't happen again."

"It should," You say before you can stop yourself. He glances at you curiously. "I don't mind if you're relaxed and casual around me. I've never been one to enforce the rules that Olympus has. Hoseok is proof enough of that. And you can use my name, I don't mind."

The way he whispers your name, almost as if he's practicing it to himself, makes your heart flutter in your chest. It's so dangerous to be around him like this, relaxed and casual; it's so easy to forget that it's Hoseok that gets this, that deserves this small piece of sunshine.

"Well," Yoongi eventually says. "In that case, you can get to work. I've got an entire basket of seeds left to plant around this thing, and I can only work so fast. Plus I'm getting hungry."

"Oh. Okay, show me what to do." You don't hesitate to mirror his position, robes bunching under your knees in the dirt as he points at the small holes he's carved out of the dirt with the trowel and rake the Bones nabbed for him.

Yoongi is patient, you learn. Not extremely so, but he walks you through what you need to do with clear directions. The seeds are small in your hands, which amuses you to no end, and there's an odd delight in packing the soil around them and dripping water down onto them after. You're smiling for the first time in...you don't know how long, and the feeling of Yoongi's hands around yours as he shows you how to use the trowel is something akin to paradise.

His hands are rough; calloused and weathered and wonderful against the softness of your own. You start to talk freely to him, asking him about each seed you plant and what they are and how they look. He tells you about each one, the deep timbre of his voice like music to your ears. He rolls his eyes at every joke you make, despite the way he smiles, and hits back with several quips of his own. He listens as you tell him, voice shaking, about the pomegranate tree, and how it curses anyone who eats its fruit to stay trapped in the underworld forevermore. He talks and listens and jokes and laughs and it's only after you've made a particularly ridiculous joke that you realize your mistake.

"You've spent too much time around Hobi," Yoongi says. "He made the same joke yesterday." He's looking down at the last few seeds, plotting where in the courtyard to put them, and doesn't see the way the smile dies on your face. You'd forgotten. For a brief time, you'd forgotten that this is just pretending.

You don't get to keep this. You don't get to stay here, in this courtyard, with Yoongi and his rough hands and the mint hair that falls in his eyes and his gummy smile. This isn't yours. You don't get flower crowns and jokes and soft kisses, no matter how much you want them, just like you don't get Hoseok's bright grin or his dimples or his long fingers intertwined with yours. Your heart aches for these two beautiful boys, both of them everything you could ever want in so many different ways. And yet you have neither of them, you don't get either of them. They are each other's, and there is no room there for the death you bring in your wake. You kill everything you touch; the mortals whisper about the cold grip of your hands on their neck as they pass over.

You look back over the seeds you've helped Yoongi plant and wonder how many you've killed before they even lived.

You stand and brush the dirt off your robes. "Well," You say, careful to keep your voice level. "I've got some things to do. I trust you'll be alright on your own." You can't bring yourself to look at Yoongi, can't bear to see the dirt that smudged along his cheek, can't stand to see the way the orange robes drape along him and remind you of the way the autumn leaves looked coating the grass in the meadows.

He doesn't even get a response out before you flee, but you feel his eyes on your back long after you've hidden in the shadows and sunk down onto your bed.

It's astounding, you think as you rinse the dirt off your hands later, how a single afternoon planting seeds with someone can be so detrimental to the walls you'd put around your heart. Tears blur your vision and your fingers are trembling, but you keep scrubbing until the phantom slide of his hands against yours is gone and there is no more evidence of the planting you'd done. When you finally stop, your skin is raw and throbbing, and there are tears running down your face.

You had long accepted that Hoseok could never be yours. You were in two different positions, and he was much too bright to want to be with someone like you. Your shadows would have suffocated him, so you resigned yourself to being his friend. Friend is safe. Friend is good.  

You’d known the same when you met Yoongi. Bright and colorful amidst the darkness of the underworld, you wouldn’t dare to get any closer to him, too familiar with the fluttering of your chest and the jumping in your stomach every time you saw him. Just being friendly was enough, ensuring he is safe and happy is fine with you.

But this? Watching the two of them grow closer and closer, able to love each other so wholly while you stand alone in your darkness, watching their bright smiles and soft looks, all directed only at each other, for eternity? This was too much for you to bear. Being hopelessly in love with one man you can’t have is bad enough, but two of them…

You wish for the first time that you were not immortal, but a meager human upon the surface, unaware and blissful in your ignorance.

He never expected this. Not from the moment he woke up, not when he was sprinting through a forest to escape his mother, not for a single heartbeat could he ever imagined everything that has happened to him since he arrived in this cold land.

He’s been alone for so long, hidden away in his mother’s garden with only the rare visit from Artemis or Hestia as he learned how to do anything and everything his mother wished. He’s never had friends before, he’s never had the subtle inside jokes that he shares with Hoseok, familiar enough that even just a quick glance can have them both bursting with laughter. He’s never known a goddess like you, able to weave together the darkness into something tangible, something useful, something real. It’s like nothing he’s ever seen, and Hoseok’s uncanny ability to bend the environment around him and use his silvery aura to turn almost invisible to the naked eye never ceases to amaze him. The two of you are so powerful, so utterly awe-inspiring, and every single thing his mother had told him is so far from the truth that it almost hurts.

Neither you nor Hoseok is standoffish, really; he can see the hesitant friendship in every smile you send his way, and Hoseok’s primary concern at any moment is making sure he’s happy and safe. It warms Yoongi in a way he could never explain, not even in a million years, simply because he’s never felt this way. In all the books he’s read, the plays he’s seen, every mortal he’s watched, he’s seen this.

He’s seen how they turn red with just a look, how their hearts stutter when hands brush, how they smile, soft and private when they think no one is looking at them. He’s seen this feeling, the bubbling in his chest that he gets every time Hoseok laces their fingers together while walking and the moment you step into the courtyard and see the kaleidoscope of colors that you helped plant. He never would have guessed that he would feel it, though, too isolated from the rest of the world until he came here. Until you pulled apart the earth itself to help him escape, without even knowing why or who he was.

The feeling grows inside of him, thorns pricking into his every breath because he knows it can’t last. He’s seen how you and Hoseok look at each other when you think no one is watching, can feel the pull between you and the years upon years of familiarity that lie between you. The two of you are closer than he could ever get, two sides of the same coin, and more suited to each other than he would ever be.

And he can’t stay.

That’s the worst part. He knows it, knows that she will find him before long and wrap her claws around his throat and drag him back into that gilded cage she calls a greenhouse just to leave him. It’s for the best, my dear, she’ll say, it’s to keep you safe.

Yoongi doesn’t want to be safe, though. He wants to be happy and free, and he’s found that place here, surrounded by death even as he carves out his own little area of life. With Hoseok’s warm grin across from him and your own cool fondness beside him. With flower crowns atop his head and Hoseok’s, and the small buds are woven into your own crown of bones and grief as a small reminder that even in death, there is life.

But she will find him. She always does. And though he cannot bear the thought of leaving you, he will, if only to keep you safe.

Yoongi's been there almost a year when you summon Hoseok to dine with you. By the time he gets to your office - a very understated term for the sprawling library - you're already sitting at your usual desk, food pushed aside and forgotten in lieu of the papers stacked in front of you.  Even with your head bent low and bags under your eyes, you're the most beautiful person Hoseok has ever seen.

He remembers the first time he met you when Zeus had assigned him to be the gatekeeper for the underworld. You were so young, so skittish and worried that you were going to be a terrible ruler as if the dead could be disappointed in you. You'd been beautiful then, too, but not in the same way. You've grown into yourself since then; you're no longer afraid of being a bad queen. You know that you're competent and capable, you know you can do this, and you frequently prove wrong any Olympian who says otherwise. You're mature now; strong and confident and brilliant, and even with the bags under your eyes and the shadows that lick lovingly against your skin, you are absolutely radiant.

Hoseok is so in love with you that it physically hurts him, and every time he looks at you, he is reminded of how you are just out of his reach.

He clears his throat and you look up. The tired smile that graces your face warms him, and he settles into a chair on your left with practiced ease. This isn't the first time you've asked him to dine with you, and it won't be the last.

"What's the occasion?" He teases, delighting in the way you roll your eyes and gesture to the food and nectar that sits in front of him.

"How is Yoongi?" You ask. It doesn't escape him that you don't answer, but you always have your reasons, so he doesn't call you on it.

"Well. He wanders around on his own and doesn't seem to jump at the slightest sound anymore. He came with me the other day when I judged and managed to pick fifteen people for Elysium in a row." An expression passes over your face that he can't decipher. He continues anyway. "He still won't talk much about what happened, but he also doesn't seem to be in much of a hurry to leave. I imagine he'll get bored eventually, and we'll need to give Cerb extra treats when he does, but I'm not concerned just yet."

You nod and Hoseok starts to eat as you rifle through a few more papers. "You know he's Persephone?" You ask, and Hoseok nods. He'd forgotten to share that knowledge with you, but clearly, you had your own way of finding things out. "So then you're aware that his mother is Demeter."

Hoseok pauses for a minute. He swallows the food in his mouth and really looks at you for the first time since he sat down. The bags under your eyes are more prominent, and you're wearing your Hades expression. The one that stays professional and controlled and tells people nothing of your true thoughts. Well, people that haven't known you for more than a thousand years.

"Hoseok, he can't stay here forever," You eventually say. "She's been looking for him everywhere. The humans' crops are ruined, ice and snow have covered the earth, more people are dying than we can hold right now. She won't stop."

"And that means we kick him out?" Hoseok hisses. You close your eyes and he can feel the sigh you're holding back. "You said yourself that he could stay as long as he wants. You can't just rescind that because some wheat goddess is going on a rampage. We still don't know what he was running from, or if it's still out there, and I won't watch him-" He stops, frozen by the way you're pressing your tongue into the side of your cheek. It's the only tell you have and he rarely sees it, because you rarely keep things from him. "What do you know?"

You don't answer, and he repeats the question, louder this time, as he surges out of his chair.

"I was running from her," Yoongi's voice echoes through the library. You and Hoseok both turn to see him standing in the door, and Hoseok's heart swells at the sight. He's in soft, muted pink robes that Hoseok knows he made himself. His cheeks are rounder, and he's no longer curled in on himself. He looks stronger. Confident. Unafraid. "I was running from my mother. That's what you found out, right?" Hoseok looks to you, and the regret in your eyes just confirms it.

"I'm sorry, Yoongi, I was only trying to make sure you were safe, I didn't mean-"

"It's alright," Yoongi says as he moves to run his hand along your cheek. "I know." He smiles at you. Hoseok looks between the two of you - Yoongi's hand resting lightly on your cheek and a soft smile on his lips while his eyes crinkle with rare happiness, your own eyes wide and full of what can only be described as pure, unadulterated love - and his stomach rolls violently. Even after all the time Hoseok has spent with you, and with Yoongi, and the times he's entered a room to find the two of you in comfortable silence, he never expected this. He should've, he realizes; the two of you are a perfect match, complementing each other to near perfection, each fault being smoothed over by the other's strengths.

How could he have thought you wouldn't fall in love with Yoongi? Soft, kind Yoongi, who had just enough snark inside of him to make every word out of his mouth an unexpected joy. Yoongi who braids flower crowns with the flowers he's started to grow in the courtyard, surrounding the pomegranate tree with the beautiful blooms. Yoongi, who encourages Hoseok to judge more and more souls, ones that don't request it, who can somehow pick the good people from the bad just by looking.

And how could he have ever expected Yoongi not to fall for you? Strong and intelligent, determined and kind. You who opened your home to him in his most vulnerable moment and never expected anything in return. You who did everything in your power to find what was chasing him, and find a way to stop it. You, with your lonely smile and your bare feet. You, who Hoseok himself has been in love with for tens of thousands of years.

How could he have expected either of you not to fall in love in the months that you have known each other when Hoseok couldn't even stop himself?

“I’ll go back to her,” Yoongi says softly, finally dropping his hand from your cheek and turning the radiant smile on Hoseok. “She’ll have no reason to continue this if I return.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, Yoongi,” You say immediately. ““You were desperate to get away from her, and...what she almost did to you, that’s unacceptable.”

“Let her rage,” Hoseok agrees. “You’re safe here, no one can get to you without getting through the two of us first, not to mention Cerberus and the Bones. No nature goddess will last in this place, not with our full force around you.”

“Thank you, Hobi, but no. I can’t ask you both to do that, not when it could end so badly for you. You don’t know what she can do, it’s not-”

“You aren’t asking us,” You say. Your voice is as quiet as always, but there’s a firmness there that Hoseok recognizes. It’s usually saved for the throne room when some mortal has been particularly annoying or stubborn, and it’s a shock to see it directed at Yoongi. “We are offering. Let us protect you, Yoongi. At least let me speak with Zeus about this. I may be able to convince him to intervene.”

Yoongi hesitates, the indecision is written all over his face, and Hoseok leans to lace their fingers together. It’s a familiar gesture, done so often to prevent Yoongi from getting lost that it’s second nature at this point.

“Please,” Hoseok pleads when Yoongi looks at him. “Please, Yoongi.”

The reluctant nod is all the confirmation needed. You’re already scribbling out a summons for Hermes to carry to the lord of the gods, and Hoseok is halfway through the halls to reinforce the gates and ensure Cerberus knows his task. He tries not to think about the way Yoongi lingered behind, one hand on your shoulder as he watched you write and the other caressing the flower-riddled braids he’d made earlier that day.

He doesn’t think about it, because in the end, it doesn’t matter. Hoseok is so deeply in love with the two of you, so grossly enamored, that he would go to the end of time itself if it meant keeping the two of you safe and happy. Even if that meant watching you love each other and not him.

“What do you mean, he won’t help?”

You massage your temples without looking up from the letter Zeus had sent back with Hermes. He was, unsurprisingly, not helpful. Hoseok had appeared not long after the messenger had left, and is, also unsurprisingly, irate.

“According to him, he has no dog in this fight, because Yoongi isn’t his son, he’s Demeter’s, and if he were to get involved, he’d side with her since the humans are dying so quickly, which isn’t exactly good for worship numbers.”

“Are you kidding me? He seriously said he’d take her side in this?”

“Not in so many words, but yes. And I get it, Hobi. His job is to keep the peace between everyone in Olympus, and without actually coming here to give me an audience, all he has is Demeter’s side of the story.”

“Which is?”

“That I kidnapped her son and am currently holding him captive in a dungeon down here.”

“That’s absurd. He’s not captive at all, he’s happier here than he ever was up there, and you didn’t kidnap him!” You give a slight nod to show that yes, Hoseok, you’re aware of the truth. “Does he know what she does to him? How she treats him?”

“Hoseok, please,” You mutter. The weight of Zeus’ words is like a blade against your throat and you want nothing more than to help Yoongi. Clearly, the Fates have decided against that. “You know how he is. Do you honestly think he’d care? She has a claim to him, despite what he wants, and unless we find a way to get Zeus down here or go there ourselves, our lord won’t be able to hear any other side of this story.”

“Then we’ll...we’ll go there! We’ll make them listen! You could talk sense into him, make him see that he needs to help.”

“You know I can’t do that, Hobi.” Hoseok flinches, as if just remembering that you are as captive here as the souls you keep. You’re glad, not for the first time, that Death Itself cannot be contained, so that Hoseok, at least, is free to come and go as he pleases. “And before you say it, no, we can’t ask him to go. It isn’t safe. The second he sets foot outside this realm, she’ll pull him back. We’re lucky that he hasn’t already told her where Yoongi is.”

Your statement is punctuated with a muffled thud, and the anxiety that runs through you is mirrored in the look Hoseok gives you. Another thud echoes through the palace, the ground rumbling under your feet, and you stand.

“Where is he?” You ask, already pulling the shadows around you.

“Just past the gate, walking through the Meadow. If we hurry-”

“Go.” You disappear into the blackness, never more glad that Hoseok can sense the living in your land. When you step away from the shadows, Yoongi is there, confusion written across his face and fear in his eyes. “You have to run.”

“No,” He says. “I’m not going to keep running from her. I’m staying here, she can’t take me back.”

“Yoongi, please,” You beg. He’s too vulnerable here, too open, too easily seen with his spring green robes billowing around his feet and flowers woven into a crown atop his head. He takes your hands in his and pulls you close, and you’ve never seen a fire like this in him. It burns hot and strong and it makes your chest ache for what could have been.

“I won’t let her hurt you while I hide away like a coward,” He whispers. His thumb wipes away tears you didn’t know were there, and determination floods through you.

"Please, Yoongi. Let us help you. Let me help you. I-" The words choke in your throat, but Yoongi nods as if they made it out.

"I love you, too." His voice is soft, barely audible over the shaking ground and the deafening sound of hooves slamming into your gates. You feel more than see Hoseok land beside you, and his hand rests on the small of your back without hesitation.

"Take him," You tell Hoseok. "Go to the palace. You'll be safe there. Don't let him leave."

Hoseok's eyes are fire-bright as he wraps an arm around Yoongi's waist. The god's protests fall on dead ears, even as you let your hands brush over the softness of Hoseok's ink black wings. Just one moment, that is all you want, just one single second to pretend.

"I'll see you after, my lady," Hoseok says firmly. You don't have the heart to correct him, nor the time, so you just nod. Yoongi's screams echo in your ears even as you turn, the blackness that lingers at every corner of your realm swirling around your feet and ready to be whatever you need. You let one last year fall from your eyes as the gates crumple, and the furious eyes of Demeter fixate on you and the black-winged figure carrying her son away.

Hoseok flies faster than he ever has, determined to get Yoongi into the palace and relative safety. The god sobs in his arms, still struggling to get back to where you stand in the Meadow, the massive form of Demeter towering above you, but Hoseok doesn't relax his grip. You gave him an order; he hadn't disappointed you yet, and he isn't about to start now. Not with Yoongi caught in the middle.

He doesn't hesitate when he touches down in the palace, wings retracted and brushing ever so slightly against the black marble floor. He turns to the nearby Bones and orders them to the doors, summoning as many others as he can spare from the gates and Fields to help barricade the palace from the goddess.

"Hobi, you have to go, you have to help her," Yoongi sobs. "She's gonna...I can't, Hobi, please, you have to keep her safe."

"I have to keep you safe," Hoseok replies. He's got a vice grip around Yoongi's arm as he pulls him deeper into the palace, doing his level best to avoid any window or door to the outside. "That was the order she gave and that's the order I shall obey."

"How can you say that?! Don't you care that she could-"

"Of course I care!" Hoseok spits, rounding on the shorter god the second the words leave his lips. "Do you think this is easy for me, Yoongi? Do you think I enjoy choosing between the two of you like this? Because I don't. I want nothing more than to be helping her right now, but I can't...I can't leave you alone here. It's too dangerous."

Hoseok isn't stupid; he knows exactly how he feels about you, and Yoongi, and he's not oblivious to the way the both of you look at him. Still, the two of you are powerful deities, worshipped and loved, feared and prayed to. He's just a guardian, content to sit in the background and watch for threats. Yes, he loves you, with every fiber of his immortal soul, but he also loves Yoongi, and he knows you love Yoongi, and you gave him an order.

"Hobi," Yoongi whispers, eyes wet and red and beautiful. "Hobi, please, you have to help her. She needs you. I can manage, I can hide, but she needs you. No one else can help her."

The fact that he's even considering this shows just how easy it is for Yoongi to manipulate him. Hoseok understands now, what you meant all that time ago. Yoongi's voice is rough and lingering and fearful but it carries so much hope that it digs into Hoseok's skin like a hook. He curses and bundles Yoongi into the corner.

"Stay hidden. Don't make a noise. You can't let her find you." Hoseok hesitates for a split second before pressing a quick kiss to Yoongi's forehead. "I will see you after this."

"I know."

It's never been harder for him to turn his back on someone, but Hoseok manages, with only one last look back before he takes to the air and surges forwards to where you stand, keeping Demeter back with every piece of your power.

Yoongi runs. He runs and runs and runs, the bare skin of his feet silent on the cool marble. The braziers have long since gone out, but he stopped needing them months ago. He knows where he is, even as he tucks himself into a small, nearly invisible niche in a corner. He hardly dares to breathe, too scared that the sound will alert his mother of his location. The palace is silent, not a single sound in the entire thing, and it's deafening in the aftermath of the rumbling screams that signaled your battle with her.

He isn't sure how he managed to convince Hoseok to leave him, whether it was the obvious love the god felt for you or the sheer desperation in his own eyes, but he could only pray the two of you made it out. As gods, you're all difficult to kill, but it's not impossible. Not for other deities.

Come out, little flower.

Yoongi stifles a whimper, panic coloring his vision white for a long while before he can breathe again. Memories flash behind his eyelids and he pried them open just to stare into the darkness.

You can't hide forever, little flower. You know that.

Her voice echoes against the marble. It makes her sound like she's everywhere and nowhere at once, able to find him even as he hides. He clenches his teeth and reminds himself that you and Hoseok are the only ones that know this palace better than him.

You're making me very angry, little flower. Why do you run? I only want the best for you, and you insist on causing such a fuss.

The sound of her sandals reaches him, reverberating off the walls and telling him that she's far too close. He slips silently out of the niche and pads across the floor on the balls of his feet. He doesn't make a sound, something he perfected in his time with her, and just as she slips around the corner, he's darting down another hallway.

Look at what you've done, little flower. All this mess, and for what? Do you like it when I'm angry? Do you enjoy this game of ours?

He slips into another hall just in time. Exhaustion has made him slow. The marble of the wall is cool against his heated skin, and he wonders where you are. Where Hoseok is. If you're alright or if you're laying in the Meadow, golden ocher pooling around you. The thought enrages him, and for the first time, he can feel power at his fingertips; real power, not the simple gardening magic she taught him as a child. He's ready to use it, he thinks. He's so tired of running, so tired of being afraid, and he's so fucking angry that the people he loves have had to fight his battles for him.

Found you, little flower.

Warmth circles his ankle and pulls before he can jerk away. Her nails are sharp than before, like sickles at the end of each long finger, and he scrabbles uselessly at the smooth stone floor. She's speaking but the sound of her voice - wind whispering through a field of wheat, a brook babbling in the summer - is drowned out by the blood pumping in his ears.

"No, I won't go back, you can't make me," He hisses, kicking at her hand with his free leg. He doesn't feel the cuts on his soles, doesn't register them at all until he sees the gold dropping onto the floor; the adrenaline masks the pain. She says something else and he stops kicking, though he doesn't know what she's said. He isn't listening, too busy thinking of a way out of this.

It comes to him, all at once, and he relaxes in her grip. His chest heaves in a sob, because he knows exactly what he has to do, and you will never forgive him for it.

"Alright," He says flatly. Demeter stops in her monologue. "I'll go with you. Just leave them alone." The smile that splits her face is more grotesque than any corpse he's seen in the Styx, but the way she releases his ankle is a blessing. He keeps himself hunched and downtrodden as he pushes himself up, into her waiting arms. The hug is bruising and brings vile to his throat, but it is necessary.

It's with a flash of green as he pulls away from her that he makes his move. The flower crown previously atop his head has morphed, grown into thick, thorny vines around her arms and keeping her in place.

Yoongi is gone before she can so much as screech, sprinting as fast he can through the halls to the one thing that can help him. He feels it when she rips through his flowers, his very soul shaking at the pain that rips through him, but he's determined. He's made good ground, he only had a little further to go.

The vibrant colors of the courtyard have never felt so welcome. He's halfway through, blossoms crushed under his feet as he tears through the carefully tended flowers, when she catches up. The blade of her scythe rips through his back, but the adrenaline masks the pain. He's bleeding, he knows, but he can't bring himself to focus on anything but the way the bark feels under his grip, branches reaching down to help him reach his goal.

She tears him out of the tree violently, no longer wearing the carefully sculpted mask of love. The scream that she unleashes when she sees him shakes the entire realm, soft pebbles falling from the ceiling of the cavern miles above his head, but he doesn't care.

The pomegranate is ripe against his tongue, juice tinting his lips pink, and the weight of it against his chest has never been more welcome. Demeter screams for what could be centuries, but Yoongi does not care, because he has won, and he has never tasted anything so sweet in his entire life.

"Come to bed," Hoseok pleads, not for the first time. You look at him with a sigh. His wings are gone, hidden away until he needs them again, and his arm is free of the bandages he's been wearing. It has taken so long for him to heal, and you still aren't sure he should be up and about. There's a small, barely perceptible scar along his forearm, the faintest reminder of what the two of you survived.

"I have to finish this before he returns, Hobi," You tell him, also not for the first time. Hoseok scoffs and comes around the desk to stand behind you, eyes roving over the documents in front of you.

"It's been over six months," He whispers in your ear. "Zeus has approved your expansion requests. I'm fine. You're fine. Yoongi will be back from Olympus soon."

"Hoseok," Your tone is warning despite the way he whispers your name. You deflate, falling back in your chair and letting him rub your shoulders. "I just miss him."

"I know. I do too." You're both quiet for a while. It has been six months since Demeter crashed into your world and rampaged through the Meadow to find Yoongi. You remember it so vividly, the way you struggled against the unbridled fury she had, the way Hoseok screamed as she broke his wing, the pain in your chest as you'd crawled to him and just held him in your arms until the Bones had made it to the two of you and carried him to the palace.

You had been, and still are, vastly proud of him and Yoongi for fighting back, but that didn't change the fact that they had both put themselves in immense danger by doing so. Even with the - admittedly brilliant, if stupid - plan that Yoongi had come up with, things never really worked out for you. Hoseok had been bedridden for weeks, unable to even more because of the pain in his wing. Hermes has helped with the healing process, which you were unendingly thankful for, but Yoongi had been carted off to Olympus almost immediately for negotiations.

Zeus, benevolent leader and incompetent moron that he is, had decided on a compromise: Yoongi would stay with you in the underworld after the harvest was finished, free to do whatever he liked, but until then he had to stay in Olympus. The letter had mentioned something about reparations to the mortals for the utterly obscene amount of crops they had lost - which was ridiculous really, they were doing their level best to kill the planet and you are gods, since when do gods pay reparations to mortals? - that Yoongi was required to use his abilities to help with.

You'd sent Hermes back with several colorful threats of what exactly would happen to the billions of dead you kept here should Yoongi return in any way other than utter perfection, and you've been anxious for days to find out whether you get to follow through on them. It only worsens when you remember that you have a decision to make when Yoongi returns. You remember the way he looked when he said he loved you, returning words you couldn't bring yourself to say, and you remember the elation and subsequent depression that came after the battle at the realization that you could have had him, were he not gone for half the year.

And yet you also distinctly remember the way Hoseok looked, wings splayed over several tables to hold them in place as they healed, vulnerable and shy as he told you that he was sorry for disobeying you. You won't ever forget his face as he explained, the way his lips formed around your name when he told you he couldn't beat to see you hurt, not after so many years spent loving you. The feel of his lips against your skin is like a phantom even now; Hoseok had waited until he was healed to do anything more than press chaste kisses against your knuckles, and even still you've not felt him the way you want, but it hasn't stopped him from trying.

"Come on, my lady," Hoseok says, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Just for a while." You grumble under your breath - you really do have work to finish before Yoongi arrives - but you allow Hoseok to pull you from your chair and lead you down the hall to your bedroom.

So lost in your own musings, you don't notice the figure lounging on your bed until he speaks.

"Six months and I don't get even so much as a hello?"

Your eyes shoot up and your breath hitches in your throat. Pale green robes lined in the most beautiful black and silver embroidery pool around him, matching the braided crown that rests atop his head. You didn't know flowers like that existed, let alone that they could look so wonderful on someone.

"I didn't know you were back," You breathe.

"That's the point of a surprise, my love," Hoseok says from behind you, hand tightening around yours. Guilt begins to grow in your chest and Yoongi tsks at you. He rises and comes to stand in front of you, brow furrowed.

"That's no way for a queen to look, is it? What has you thinking so hard?" His thumb smooths the space between your brows and you can't help the glance to Hoseok.

"I can't...I don't want to hurt you." Your voice is barely a whisper, and the familiar sting encircles your heart once more. You couldn't choose between the two of them, not if you tried, not even if it meant getting out of this place.

"You won't," Hoseok tells you with a familiar grin. "Yoongi and I have already talked about what we feel for each other, and for you. The only question now is if you'll have us. Both of us."

Months ago, you would have called them crazy and had them exiled for fear they'd gone mad. You never imagined you could have one of them, let alone both; you had been ready to tell them both that you had been mistaken because having one by your side while your heart still yearned for the other was far more cruel than anything you could put in the Fields of Punishment.

Now? Now you know what the Isles must feel like. It is Yoongi in front of you, thumb brushing lightly against your cheek while Hoseok's warmth is steady behind you, one arm encircling your waist and keeping you steady.

"Both of you?" You echo. Yoongi nods.

"You don't have to," Hoseok says from behind you. "But we know how you feel about us, and we're sure in how we feel for each other. There are stranger pairings in the world, aren't there?"

"Only one of you could be king." You aren't sure why you say that, can't remember why it even matters when Hoseok trails his lips over the shell of your ear.

"I never have looked good on a throne," He says. Yoongi's chest rumbles in a laugh, and you could cry at the sight of that familiar gummy smile.

"Please," Yoongi eventually says. "Please say yes." You search his eyes for any hint of indecision or regret, and when you find none, you turn to Hoseok. He has a soft, encouraging smile on his face, and he holds your crown in his free hand. The cool black metal is harsh against his tanned skin, but what draws your eye isn't the way the bones are fused together or the etchings of historical scenes across each. No, it's the soft pale green blossoms woven in among the metal, a stark contrast to the harshness of the bones, and the silver thread twined around all of it, dipping in and out in various places but clearly noticeable in the light. It's a perfect representation of the three of you and it makes your chest swell.

"Yes," You breathe. They don't move, and your eyes dart between them. "Yes, absolutely. I can think of nothing I have ever wanted more."

Yoongi surges forward, capturing you in a long-awaited kiss. His lips are soft as blossoms against yours, warm and gentle as the hands that cup your jaw and draw you closer. You're aware, distantly, of the soft clink of metal on stone as Hoseok sets your crown to the side, though his arm never leaves your waist.

Hours could have passed with Yoongi kissing you. You aren't sure. Time runs together and blends, a dizzying whirlwind of slow drags of his lips across yours followed by quick, messy bursts of his tongue. You can barely focus on what is happening, mind split between the absolute euphoria of kissing him and the heat that comes from Hoseok's fingers dancing along your waist and shoulders, his breath ghosting over your neck as he watches. When Yoongi finally detaches from your lips, he ducks down to suck at the exposed skin of your collarbone, and Hoseok turns your chin so you face him.

"May I, my lady?" He asks. His voice is rough and deeper than you're used to, affected by the sight of you and Yoongi. His fingers twine with the strings holding your robes together and you give him a nod. It doesn't even take a full breath before the black material is pooling at your feet. Hoseok stifles something that sounds suspiciously like a moan behind you, and you think Yoongi actually purrs. They both run their hands along your skin, basking in the goosebumps that they raise and the shivers that crawl up your spine.

"Absolutely ethereal," Yoongi mutters. You pull him into another kiss, one hand coming up to rest against his shoulder while your other tangles in Hoseok's hair where he's doing his level-best to leave his mark on your neck.

"Please," You murmur. "I want to make you happy."

"You've already done that, my queen," He says. His smile is soft and the glint in his eye is sharp. You huff a little and tap twice at Hoseok's neck; when he pulls away, pouting but compliant, you push Yoongi until he's falling back onto your bed. He goes with no objections, one hand twining his fingers with yours and you crawl up to straddle his hips. "Let me please you, my queen. I've been waiting six months to taste you, and I don't want to waste another moment if I don't have to."

Your breath hitches as Hoseok steps up behind you. The bare skin of his chest is a shock as it presses against your back, and he slides his hands along your sides before beginning to tease your nipples. You stifle the moan, emitting more of a whine than anything, and you think you nod. All you know is the heat between your legs and the knee-deep ache to make them happy.

Yoongi's between your legs in a flash. You can't be sure how exactly he moved so quickly without jostling you, but the thought is all but shoved out of your mind as he swipes his tongue against you for the first time. You're glad Hoseok is behind you because your legs are already trembling where they're curled under you and your head drops back to rest against his shoulder. As merciless as Hoseok is in his torment of your chest, Yoongi is doubly so.

You imagine a man starving and dehydrated in a desert wouldn't be this invested in a sudden banquet laid in front of him; Yoongi worships you, circling your clit several times before dipping down to dart teasingly in and out of your hole. He laps up every single drop of your arousal, dutiful in his mission even as Hoseok begins to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. The heat of his breath has you closer to the edge than you want to admit, but the sheer love that radiates from his words at the same time Yoongi rumbles out a heavenly moan straight into your folds, tongue buried inside of you, is what drives you over the edge.

You aren't surprised when neither of them stop; you get the sense Yoongi is thoroughly enjoying himself between your thighs, based on the growing tent in his robes. Hoseok grinds against your ass, and his own hardness presses against you with every painless thrust of his hips. A pang of guilt shoots through you and your hands drop. It's a bit of an awkward angle, but you make it work as you glide your hands over him. He's thick, that's for sure, and nearly as long as your forearm. How you're supposed to take that inside of you is anyone's guess, but as Yoongi brings you to yet another orgasm with his mouth, you realize that's exactly what they're preparing you for.

The whimper comes unbidden, walls clenching around nothing at the thought of them filling you, and they both shudder. "Please," You gasp, "Please, I need you. Both of you."

Yoongi graciously lets you rise off of him, and when you settle on your back, he sits up to smile at you. His lips and chin are absolutely coating in your slick, the sight erotic and exciting. The feeling is doubled as Hoseok grips Yoongi's chin, turning the mint-haired god to face him.

"How does she taste, my flower?" He purrs. You don't hear Yoongi's response, just the deep thrum of his voice, but you see the way Hoseok runs his thumb across Yoongi's lips, collecting your juices, before sliding it into his own mouth. You moan at the sight, Hoseok's eyes falling closed as he relishes in the taste of you. Yoongi strips out of his robes while he can, and he doesn't seem to miss the way your and Hoseok's eyes watch hungrily.

"Tell me what you want," Hoseok says, pulling you closer as Yoongi settles behind you. "We're here for you, my queen."

"I…" You falter. You aren't even sure what you want now; you've spent six months trying to figure out how to tell both of the men you love that you can't be with either of them and now you have both of them naked in your bed, waiting to please you. You can hardly think, can't focus beyond the feel of their skin against yours and the heat of their gaze, but you know one thing.

You need them to know how desperately you love them, and with the fire burning between your thighs, there is exactly one way you can do that.

"I need you inside me, Hobi," You tell him. "I need to feel you inside of me. Yoongi, too. Both of you." Hoseok's cock twitches and something in his jaw clicks. You don't wait for more of a response, choosing instead to slide across the sheets to straddle Hoseok's hips. His hands rest lightly on your hips, tentative now, and you smile at him. His hands are gentle now, soft as the smile he gives you in return. His cock is dripping and red, a warm heat in your palm as you guide him to your entrance.

The look in his eyes, the small moan he releases, the hitch in Yoongi's breath behind you as you slowly sink down onto Hoseok will forever be etched into your memory. You're so full that you could cry; he feels absolutely perfect inside of you, and it only gets better as he guides you carefully up and then back down onto him. Your moan is felt more than heard and it only gets louder as he speeds up. His fingers are marble against your his, unmoving and firm as he slides in and out. He doesn't look away for a second and neither do you; all the years you've spent thinking about him, the millennia you've ached to love and be loved by him, it has all led to this. Your hips moving against his, connected in a way you've never been before; if it were possible to read his thoughts, you think you could at this moment, because they must be a mirror of your own.

"I love you," You whisper. Yoongi's warmth presses against your spine as he slides a finger between the two of you to rub slow circles into your clit, and you gasp. "I love you, Hobi, so much." The words are a mantra on your lips, and you think there may be tears in his eyes but you can't be sure because you're coming again, shuddering on top of him, and Yoongi is gently pulling you off.

Hands turn you, and now it's Yoongi between your legs, cock red and throbbing where it sits against his stomach. He isn't as long as Hoseok, but he's wider, and you clench again at the sight.

Yoongi opens his mouth to say something, but you stop him with a soft kiss pressed against the corner of his mouth. You slide down onto him, welcoming the slight burn that comes with the stretch. It takes two breaths for you to become impatient and begin to move, grinding your hips down against his. Yoongi isn't as loud as Hoseok, soft pants and whines where Hobi is echoing moans and groans, but it's just as attractive. He moves his hips in tandem with yours, and the muses themselves couldn't have created a better rhythm. The words fall from your lips again; it's easier, now that you've said them to someone, to let them go. They don't ball in your throat, aren't a lump to swallow down anymore, and you revel in the feeling.

"I love you," Yoongi returns, thumbs ghosting over the skin of your thighs. "So much, both of you. Saved me, can't fucking...fuck, can't tell you enough." You nod and loose another moan when Hoseok slides a finger in alongside Yoongi's cock.

"Do you think she can take us both, my flower?" Hoseok asks. His voice is raspy in your ear and you shudder as you orgasm again. There's a moment when you wonder just how many times you can come from the two of them, but it's gone the second Yoongi speaks.

"I think she could," Yoongi responds. "She's certainly wet enough. Absolutely soaked, aren't you, my queen? Do you want that? Both of us in here, filling you up?" He punctuates every word with another thrust of his hips and you nod. You don't think you've ever wanted anything more.

Hoseok is careful as he fingers you, working you open with one, then two, then three fingers as Yoongi slides in and out. You'd commend them both on their stamina if you could spare a single thought to anything but the feeling of them. Yoongi looks wrecked, covered in sweat with swollen lips, panting and desperate as he writhes beneath you.

When Hoseok finally decides you're ready, he slides his fingers out and asks you again if you're sure. You barely have the presence of mind to nod, too close to coming again, but it's enough for him. He slides in, and all three of you are moaning. You can't be sure what it feels like for them, but you're in absolute bliss. Hoseok peppers your shoulder with chaste kisses, murmuring encouragement as he sinks deeper inside. His cock drags against your walls and Yoongi's dick, and the thought makes you clench around them both. You're so full, you may explode, but it's perfection. When Hoseok bottoms out inside of you, you're all still for a while, just getting used to it.

"You're perfect," Hoseok whispers into your skin. "Both of you, you're both fucking perfect. Fuck, can I-?"

"Yes," You interrupt. You're already grinding down onto them, desperate for any kind of friction. "Please, Hobi." He grunts as he starts to move, and Yoongi does the same. They get a steady rhythm after a while, one sinking in as deep as he could get as the other drags outward, only to slam back in at the last second.

A sob builds in your throat, the sheer pleasure rolling through your body too much to handle as orgasm after orgasm slammed into you. There are hands everywhere, two on your hips keeping you steady, two roaming your body and teasing your nipples, on one Hoseok's neck to keep him close as another rests lightly against Yoongi's throat. You aren't sure which are yours, can't tell where you end and they begin, too fucked out to be able to think beyond the drag of their cocks against your walls and the growing ache inside you.

"Please," You gasp. "Please, need it. Fill me, please, need you both to fill me, make me yours, forever. Mark me. I'm yours, always, please, fill me with you." They both groan at that, and their pace speeds up. They're hitting harder and deeper and brushing against the spot inside of you that makes your vision turn white. Something gushes down your thighs as you spasm around them wildly, hips jerking of their own accord, and you feel it as they come together, hot seed spilling inside of you as you ride out your highs together.

You're panting and sweaty and hot and still, you don't think you'd trade this for even a moment of sunlight. They slide out of you and their cum seeps down your legs before you can stop it. You fall to the bed beside Yoongi, chest heaving even as he wraps you in his arms. A wave of your hand creates a small fan near the bed, shadows churning out cool air that feels like ambrosia on your skin.

Hoseok reappears with water for you both, and you thank him. Your voice is nearly gone, but it's worth it, you think. You pat the space beside you and Hoseok climbs in. His skin is hot against yours; the three of you are essentially a furnace at the moment, but you can't bring yourself to care. You can't count how many orgasms you had or how long you spent with them; it could have been minutes or hours or even days. It doesn't matter to you, really. Sprawled between an already-sleeping Yoongi and a Hoseok that's tracing invisible designs onto your skin, you have everything you could ever want.

Later you sit atop the shadows near your bed, chin in your hand as you admire the card between your fingers. Yoongi and Hoseok are wrapped around each other in your bed, lightly snoring as the sheets rise and fall against their naked chests. As you watch them, Hoseok’s brow furrows and he lazily stretches his arm to pat against the bed in search of you. He snuffles a little, and Yoongi nuzzles deeper into the crook of his neck until they’re both quiet again.

Silver foil glints in the light and you look back at the card in your hand. There’s a stack a hundred high beside you, all of them identical to the next save for the curling letters that make up the recipients, but this one is special. This one is your favorite. If you didn’t absolutely have to send it off, you would frame it and hang it above your throne; ultimately, though, you’d rather bask in the aftermath that’s sure to come.

With a small smile, you set it atop the others and wrap the bit of twine around them all. It’s gone with a wave of your hand, no doubt appearing wherever Hermes is. You wish you could see the look on his face when he realizes what they are, but he’s not the one that you really wish you could watch.

The raspy call of your name brings you back to the present, and you look up to find Yoongi watching you, lids heavy with sleep and eyes dark. “What are you doing?” He asks.

“Nothing.” You grin and stand, letting the shadows underneath you fall away. “Just sending out a quick notice.” You slide in beside him and Hobi, the latter still asleep but turning to wrap his arms around you nonetheless. Yoongi presses kisses to your knuckles and you pull a stray flower petal from his hair.

“You’re gloating, aren’t you?” He mutters. There’s a smile behind his eyes, and it warms you.

“Maybe a bit.” You lean over and kiss him, gentle and tender and you hope that it conveys everything you can’t put into words. “Would you rather I didn’t?”

“No,” Yoongi answers after a long pause in which he moves to straddle Hoseok’s hips in order to get close enough to suck marks into your neck. His lips are slow against your skin, tired and lazy from sleep. “I think I enjoy this side of you, actually.” “I, for one, am very much enjoying this side of you.” You grin at Hoseok’s words, smiling down at him. He’s half-hard again, hands resting lightly on Yoongi’s hips and eyes fixed on the bruises that bloom on your neck. “I thought we were sleeping.”

“We were,” You tell him. “You can always go back to sleep if you want.”

“You wish,” He mutters. Yoongi groans against your neck and you look down to see Hoseok palming him, working him up to fullness as Yoongi fucks into his hand. You wrap one of your own around Hoseok and return the favor; the way his moan echoes through the room is better than anything the nine muses could have created.

It’s slow and tired, each of you already spent from your earlier activities, but when you eventually drop between them, chests heaving from your orgasms and already half-asleep again, you think it’s worth it.

When you wake later and find a card sitting on the flower-woven throne - a new addition to the hall, one most welcome - crumpled and half-torn with a thorn sticking out of it, you know it’s worth it.

[stilinskishit]

Too Long (A Stiles Stilinski Fanfic) - Chapter 15

**First couple of posts have a different title but I changed it because I didn’t like it :)**

Summary: Teen Wolf with a female main character alongside Scott and Stiles? Here it is. Ramie McCall is Scott’s twin sister and best friends with both her twin and Stiles. The trio’s friendship means the world to all three of them, so what happens when there are more than friend type of feelings present?

Tags: @multi-madison​​ @purple286 @multifandxm353​ @bralessandflawless @5secondsofmoxley​ @thesailbells​

https://blacklivesmatters.carrd.co/

A/N: Sorry this took so long! My amazon account wasn’t working for a bit so I couldn’t write. I skipped over a lot of things because while they’re important to the show’s storyline, I didn’t think they were necessary to fully put in here. Season 3 is coming and I am very excited! 

MASTERLIST

Chapter 15 - Bruises

Season 2, Episode 10, 11, 12

As they were walking into the police station, Derek mentioned to Ramie that there was something important he needed to talk to Scott about. He didn’t say what exactly as when they walked in, it was clear there was trouble. The officer that was usually at the front desk was dead on the floor behind the desk. Derek held a finger up to his lips and crept towards a closed door down the hall, where they could hear muffled voices. Ramie crept behind him until suddenly, she felt a sharp pain on the back of her neck.

“Derek,” she hissed, as her knees felt weak. She reached for the wall and leaned against it, sliding down it as her knees gave out. Just as Derek was about to turn, the kanima tail flicked down from the ceiling again, slicing the back of his neck as well. Jackson jumped down from the ceiling, being only part kanima, and grabbed the back of Derek, holding him up as Scott opened the door in front of Derek.

“Oh thank god,” Scott let out a breath, but not a second later, Jackson pushed Derek onto the ground, him falling limp in front of Scott, Stiles and Matt.

“Ramie!” Stiles tried to move towards her, but Matt moved quickly, holding a gun up right to Stiles face. Ramie sucked in a breath as Stiles froze, backing up. Matt gave Stiles a death glare before leaning over Derek.

“This is the one controlling him?” Derek asked from the ground. “This kid?”

“Well Derek, not everyones lucky enough to be a big bad werewolf,” Matt said as he leaned over Derek. “Yeah, I’ve learned quite a few things lately. Werewolfs, kanimas, hunters. It’s like a fucking halloween party in the town every full moon. Except for you Stiles, what do you turn into?”

“Abominable snowman,” Stiles shrugged sarcastically. “It’s seasonal.”

“Yeah I’m the Tooth Fairy,” Ramie called from the hallway, Jackson turning and hissing at her when she spoke. Matt cocked his head to the side and Jackson lifted a clawed hand, slicing the back of Stiles’ neck as well, who fell on the ground completely on top of Derek, who grunted. If the situation was different, Ramie would’ve thought the situation was quite comical. Suddenly, the sound of car door slamming made Matt stand up.

“Is that her?” Matt asked. Ramie’s eyes narrowed, looking to Scott for an explanation, who gave Ramie a look she couldn’t read. “Do what I tell you to and I won’t hurt her. I won’t even let Jackson near her.”

“Scott don’t trust him,” Stiles called from the floor. Matt grabbed the back of Stiles’ shirt, flipping him onto his back and put and a foot on the op of his chest, nearly his neck. Stiles started to grunt, his face getting red.

“Is this better for you?” Matt spat, Stiles struggling to breath underneath him.

“Stop!” Ramie yelled from the hallway, feeling tears form in her eyes. Matt ignored her.

“Fine, fine just stop,” Scott yelled.

“Then do what I tell you to,” Matt spat back at him.

“Okay alright. Stop,” Scott agreed, Matt finally taking his foot off Stiles, who coughed and sucked in a huge breath. Matt and Scott walked to the front of the police station as Jackson grabbed Ramie from the hallway, dragging her into Sheriff Stilinski’s office, along with Derek and Stiles.

“Sti, are you okay,” Ramie tried to look over at Stiles from her place on the floor, but she couldn’t move her head. She felt tears fall down her cheeks.

“I’m okay,” Stiles coughed slightly. “It’s your Mom Ramie. Your Mom is here.”

“Why is she here?”

“She was on a security tape from the hospital, when one of victims was killed,” Stiles explained, his voice shaky. “We wanted her to I.D. Matt so my Dad could arrest him.”

“We need to do something,” Ramie said, panicking.

However, this was definitely easier said than done. Considering the three of them were paralyzed, it was nearly impossible. Stiles spent the whole time consoling Ramie as she panicked, hearing her mother’s yells and gunshots. Derek was trying to get the kanima venom out of his body, it working better for him thanks to his superhuman abilities. Eventually Scott came and moved Ramie and Stiles to an interrogation room to keep them safe.

Stiles and Ramie missed nearly all of the action that night. Everyone made it out safely, except for Matt. Scott explained to Stiles and Ramie that Gerard, Allison’s grandfather, had killed Matt so he could take over being the master of the kanima. Scott also informed them that Allison was working with her Dad and Gerard, not afraid of killing Jackson. This shocked Ramie the most. She knew Allison was struggling with the death of her mother, but she didn’t think she would cope by taking the side of the enemy.

Then, the McCall twins also had to deal with their mother. Melissa had seen Scott in full wolf form that night, and not surprisingly, was very confused. Scott and Ramie both tried to talk to her many times about it, to explain to her everything that had been going on in their world since the night Scott had been bitten. It took Gerard threatening Scott and nearly killing Melissa to get her to talk to him.  

Ramie, of course, had to work when things started to get crazy again. She had 3 missed calls from Scott when she checked her phone after work, and learned from calling him back that she missed more than just a lacrosse game. Jackson had dropped dead, literally, during the game. Scott and Isaac weren’t sure what was happening with him, but he seemed to be covered in some weird, gooey cocoon, which was certainly going to be hard to explain to a medical examiner. Scott told Ramie he and Isaac were planning to steal Jackson’s body, because they weren’t quite sure if he was actually dead. He also told Ramie that Stiles had gone missing after the game, but Sheriff Stilinski had just let Scott know he was finally home safe.

Ramie rushed over to the Stilinski residence to check on Stiles, since Scott had no idea what had happened to him after the game. Her legs burned from pedaling her bike so fast the whole way to their house, and she was completely out of breath as she banged on the familiar front door. Noah let her in and she nearly leaped up the stairs, taking them two at a time, and knocking on Stiles’ closed door when she got to it. She heard a grunt from inside that somewhat sounded like come in, so she pushed the door open to find Stiles laying on his stomach on his bed.

“What happened?” Ramie panted, as Stiles turned his head towards her. His cheek was bloodied and brusied, as well as his lip, which was split on one side. “Stiles, ohmygod.”

She ran over, sitting on the edge of his bed as he sat up. Ramie grabbed his face on both sides to inspect it, him wincing when her thumb got close to his cheekbone.

“What the fuck happened to you, who did this?”

“The Argents,” Stiles said quietly as Ramie dropped her hands from his face. “Boyd and Erica, they were trying to leave. They wanted to find another pack to join. The Argents captured them and have them hidden in their basement. I was trying to help.”

“We have to go get them,” Ramie said instantly, standing up off the bed. “We have to help them, and we have to help Scott and Isaac save Jackson.”

“Slow down,” Stiles said calmly as Ramie started to panic. He grabbed her hands and pulled her back down to sit. “Do you see my face? I’m lucky this is all they did. And whatever happens with Jackson, it’s going to get ugly. I can’t let you go there and get hurt.”

“I don’t care about getting hurt, I care about saving our friends,” Ramie said stubbornly, pulling her hands from Stiles. She knew if she let him get under her skin she was done for. “If we can save lives it doesn’t matter if I get hurt along the way, I’ll be fine.”

Ramie stood up again and walked towards the door, Stiles jumping up behind her and grabbing her hand again. She turned back towards him angrily, pulling her hand out of his grasp.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Stiles said, reaching around her and closing his door.

“You are absolutely not the boss of me,” Ramie seethed at him, glaring up at the taller boy.

“Here’s the thing, Ramona,” Stiles said. Ramie was about to bitch at him for using her full name, but he continued talking before she got the chance. “You say you don’t care if you get hurt. Alright, fine. But do you know how I’ll feel? If anything happens to you? I’ll be devastated. And if you die? I will literally go out of my fucking mind.”

Ramie opened her mouth, but Stiles cut her off, his voice rising.

“Death doesn’t happen to just you, Raim. It happens to everyone around you. Me, Scott, your Mom. Everyone standing there at your funeral trying to figure out how the hell to live their lives when you aren’t there. Look at my fucking face!”

Stiles stepped forward, the anger in him clearly growing as he pointed at his face.

“Do you think this was actually meant to hurt me? Do you think the Argents care about hurting the human friend who does nothing?” He continued, nearly yelling at this point, stepping forward again. Ramie backed away from him again, tears brimming her eyes as her back hit the door, slamming it the rest of the way. Stiles stopped at the loud noise, and noticed the tears in her eyes. His face softened, realizing how worked up he had gotten.

“I…” he started, clearly uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-“

“It’s fine,” Ramie cut him off. “I should go. I need to find Lydia. She’s probably upset about Jackson.”

Ramie heard Stiles call after her but she ignored him as she left his room, and he didn’t follow behind her.

…

Ramie went straight home and went to bed, feeling too overwhelmed to do anything else. She woke up the next morning to Scott snoring loudly from the next room over, and for a split second she didn’t think about anything supernatural. A moment of peace. Then, everything came back to her. Jackson, Matt, the Argents. She ran into Scott’s room, waking him up immediately and questioning him on everything that happened the previous night. Scott explained that Jackson was never dead, but morphing into a new version of his supernatural self, who was then killed by Derek and Peter, after Derek had bit Gerard, which promptly killed him.

Ramie was relieved, for Lydia’s sake, to find out that Jackson escaped death yet again, and had finally turned into a werewolf, no longer a kanima. Despite Allison briefly siding with her insane Grandfather, Scott obviously forgave her, but Allison had ended their relationship. Scott said he was going to wait for her to be ready to date again. He seemed pretty upset, but was definitely trying to hide it. Ramie took a deep breath after Scott explained the happenings of the previous night.

“Guess I shouldn’t have gone to bed so early,” Ramie half chuckled.

“I was honestly shocked you didn’t show up with Stiles,” Scott laughed, as Ramie gave a half smile, looking down at her hands. “Did something happen?”

“Stiles just freaked out on me last night,” Ramie said. “He was pissed at me for wanting to help.”

“He just wants you safe, as do I,” Scott gave her a small smile. She shrugged, standing up from his bed, wanting the conversation about Stiles to end. Everything surrounding him lately had been so confusing, and Ramie didn’t want to share those thoughts with her brother.

…

After everything supernatural subsided, the end of the school year came quickly, and before Ramie knew it, she was packing as much as she could into a very large suitcase. She was spending the summer in England working as Nanny, and couldn’t wait to get away from Beacon Hills for three months. Her Dad surprisingly bought her the plane tickets for her birthday, and the family she was working for offered good pay, so her Mom reluctantly decided Ramie could go.

Grabbing her neck pillow off her bed, Ramie trudged down the stairs with all of her things, dropping them at the front door. Melissa was meant to be home anytime to bring her to the airport.

“You’re really leaving me for the whole summer?” A voice came from behind her. Stiles was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, arms crossed and a pout on his face.

“You’ve got Scott,” Ramie gabbed a thumb at his brother, who was sitting on the couch with a bowl of chips.

“You know you’re my favorite McCall though,” Stiles continued, a crooked grin crossing his face. Scott chucked a pillow at him, which nearly knocked over a lamp in flight. Ramie followed Stiles into the living room, sitting down on the arm of the chair he flopped into after grabbing the bowl out of Scott’s lap and shoving a few chips in his mouth.

“I will miss you, both of you,” Ramie said, looking between the two boys. She was definitely nervous about going, but she knew she needed a break from the madness of Beacon Hills.

“Isaac hasn’t stopped whining about you leaving,” Scott gave Ramie a mischievous grin, and she rolled her eyes. Ramie heard Stiles let out a puff of air next to her, but she didn’t look at him.

“He’ll live,” Ramie said, shrugging. She promised Isaac they could Facetime and text and call, but the boy was extremely upset about her leaving for the summer. He was excited about having to have a long distance relationship, and neither was Ramie.

Ramie’s thoughts about Isaac were interrupted by Melissa honking from the driveway, signaling that she was home and it was time to leave.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Ramie sighed, standing up and walking into the entryway, pulling on her backpack and grabbing her things. The two boys followed her like puppies, watching her get her things together. “So this is goodbye.”

Scott instantly frowned, jumping forward and tackling Ramie in a hug. Her eyes brimmed with tears. Scott and Ramie had never been apart for longer than a week or so. When she pulled away she saw a tear drop down his cheek, and which caused a few to drop down her cheeks as well.

“I’ll bring this to the car,” Scott sniffled, grabbing Ramie’s suitcase, leaving her and Stiles alone. She turned to the buzzcut boy, who was shuffling his feet and staring at the ground, hands shoved in his pockets.

“A summer without the annoying sister starts now Stilinski,” Ramie joked, trying to break the tension. Stiles looked up, his eyes meeting hers. They looked sad, and his mouth was slightly open in shock.

“It’s not like that at all,” he said quietly.

“I know, I’m just teasing,” Ramie reached up and put a hand on his bicep, before dropping it quickly when his eyes darted to her hand.

“I’ll miss you a lot too,” Stiles said, making eye contact with Ramie again. “You’ll Facetime and text and call me?”

“You know I will,” Ramie replied, not being able to help the smile on her face. She walked towards him, wrapping her arms arounds around his neck. He bent slightly to hug her back, his head resting on her shoulder. The two didn’t let go of each other until another honk came from the driveway, causing them both to jump apart.

“Be safe, text me when you get through security, and before you take off, and when you land-“

“I will,” Ramie cut off Stiles’ rambling. His cheeks flashed pink and he gave her a small smile. “Don’t get into too much trouble this summer, Mischief.”

Stiles eyes shot to hers at the use of the nickname his Mom and Ramie used to call him long ago. His eyes looked glassy and he pulled her into another hug, this one much tighter than before.

“I’m gonna miss you Ramona.”

[strangerivy]

The Beginning - Eight

Summary: Stiles and Kacy are about to have to make the tough choice of saving Derek, which might not work. Kacy and Scott learn more about the Argents and what they are capable of. Warnings: Swearing | Violent Depictions Pairings: Stiles Stilinski x Original Character (Kacy) Genre: 18+ | Fluff Word Count: 1.8k Author’s Note: I will be making a post for this but just a heads up I am going to be taking a short hiatus for a few weeks to catch up on writing and plan out a few of my other works. If you would like to be tagged in future parts let me know!

|| One | Two | Three | Four | Five | Six | Seven | Eight | Nine | Masterlist ||

“Oh no,” I shook my head quickly, “Nononono-no.” Stiles looked like he was about to throw up

“Nope,” He finally said Derek ignored our protest placing the saw in Stiles’s open hand. Stiles stared at the saw mouth ajar pressing the button for a moment bring the saw to life. He quickly set it down. Derek was wrapping a band around his upper arm where the infection hadn’t spread yet.

“Derek, there has to be a plan C,” I looked over at deathly pale Stiles, “We need a plan C.” Derek sighed sliding the saw over to me, I stared at him in disbelief.

“Derek-I ca- There’s no way,” I stuttered out

“What if you bleed to death man?” Stiles asked in a panic

“It’ll heal if it works,” Derek answered his words muffled from the rubber band between his teeth as he tied the band.

“I’m calling Scott,” I muttered swallowing the lump in my throat, Stiles nodded as he talked with Derek. I walked into the other room dialing Scott's number with shaky hands. I put the phone to my ear, my heart sinking with each ring and groaning when he didn’t pick up. I heard a loud band making me quickly run into the other room seeing Derek holding onto Stiles by the collar of his shirt. A growl ripped through me making Derek look up at me.

Derek started to hunch over before puking a black liquid onto the floor pulling me back to reality, I felt my body relax before moving over to them.

“Holy God, what the hell is that?” Stiles whined looking at the black liquid.

“It’s my body trying to heal itself,” Derek answered breathing deeply trying to catch his breath

“Well it’s not doing a very good job of it,” Stiles muttered grimacing. Derek looked at us both.

“Now, one of you has to do it now,” Derek panted resting his head on the cool metal table, Stiles looked at me and I softly shook my head staring at the saw.

“Honestly, I don’t think I can,”

“Just do it!” Derek yelled I stumbled back hitting the brick wall sliding down it my hands coving my mouth as Stiles picked up the saw placing it over his arm.

“OH god, alright here we go,” I closed my eyes tightly not wanting to watch when I picked up the sound of a door shutting. I quickly shot up from the floor.

“Kac? Stiles?” I heard Scott ask walking into the room taking in the sight

“What the hell are you doing?” He asked walking over to the table, Stiles let out a sigh of relief setting the saw down.

“Oh, you just prevented a lifetime of nightmares,” He said with a smile, stepping back next to me I reached up grabbing onto his arm tightly. Derek looked over at Scott.

“Did you get it?” He asked Scott, Scott reached into his jeans pocket pulling out the bullet. It didn’t look special on the outside just a normal rifle round.

“What are you going to do with it?” Stiles asked reaching up holding onto my hands that were gripping onto his arm, rubbing his thumb over my knuckles in comforting matter trying to calm me down. Derek held the bullet up and I tilted my head watching him, something was wrong.

“I’m gonna--” His voice started to trail off and before any of us could react he tilted to the side falling to the ground with a clash and the bullet sliding across the floor. Scott chased after the bullet and Stiles and I went to help Derek.

“Shit,” I muttered once over to Derek staring at him, he was now passed out from the infection. Stiles looked at me confused. Stiles grabbed onto Derek’s face slapping one of his cheeks.

“Come on Derek, wake up.” He said turning towards Scott who was trying to get to the bullet. Stiles looked at me and I shrugged my shoulders not sure what to do either.

“Scott, what the hell are we gonna do?” He asked looking over at Scott who was trying to reach the bullet that had gone down a drain.

“I don’t know!” Scott answered in frustration. I looked closer at Derek and didn’t see his chest rise to indicate he was breath

“Scott,” I said worried the color in my face draining

“I think he’s dying,” Stiles panicked, “I think he’s dead,” Scott yelled to hold on and I kept looking between him and Derek and then a thought crossed my mind.

“Punch him,” I told Stiles, he looked at me like I had suggested him to give him mouth to mouth. He groaned pulling back.

“Please don’t kill me for this.” He mutters to the unconscious Derek

“I got it!” Scott yelled standing up holding the bullet. Stiles punch Derek who quickly came too, Stiles and Scott helped him off the floor. Scott handed him the bullet and he quickly took it using the table as support. He bit the bullet off spilling the contents onto the table, he then quickly to a lighter, lighting the contents on fire. It sparked up making me take a small step back when it sizzled out Derek scooped the contents into his hand taking a deep breath before shoving it into the bullet wound. I grimaced at the sight.

He screamed in pain falling to the floor, a roar ripped through one of his screams and then within seconds the wound and the infection healed like it was never there.

“That…Was…Awesome!” Stiles cheered from the adrenalin pumping through him both Scott and I stared at him. We shook our heads before turning to Derek.

“Are you okay?” Scott asked Derek scoffed

“Well, except for the agonizing pain?” Sarcasm dripping with each word, I rolled my eyes

“Derek, we just saved your life,” I bit back annoyed by his mood

“Well, I guess the ability to use sarcasm is a good sign of health,” Stiles muttered Derek shot him a glare before undoing the band around his arm.

“Okay, we saved your life, which means you’re gonna leave us alone, you got that?” Scott demand, I felt something graze against my wrist before wrapping around it. I looked down to see Stiles's hand. He pulled gently having me take a step back to stand closer to him.

“If you don’t, I’m gonna go back to Allison’s dad and I’m gonna tell him everything- “

“You’re gonna trust them?” Derek interrupted Scott, “What? You think they can help you?”

“Well, why not?” Scott asked completely confused, I eyed Derek curiously on what he was getting at. What aren’t you telling us? “They’re a lot freaking nicer than you are!” Derek nodded his tongue pressed to his cheek trying to keep his temper in check.

“Alright, I can show you exactly how nice they are,” Derek said he looked over at me see Stiles and hand now intertwined. “Both of you.”

Scott and I went with Derek to his car but not before Stiles told me to text him once I got home. Derek took us to the Beacons Crossing Home. I stared at the sign then looked at Derek. Scott got out moving his seat forward for me to get out.

“What are we doing here?” Scott asked Derek didn’t answer just started walking towards the building. Scott and I ran to catch up with him. He led us through the halls till we got to a room, he opened the door. It was completely dark the only light coming through was the moon shining through the window.

A man was sat in a chair not moving, if I didn’t know better, I would think he was dead. We stepped into the room.

“Derek, what the hell is going on,” I asked looking between him and the man in the chair as we stood close to him. Derek stared at the man in the chair his jaw clenched. I could see in his eyes that this was painful for him.

“Who is he?” Scott asked in a whisper

“My uncle. Peter Hale,” Derek answered, I sucked in a breath

“Is he... Is he like you? A werewolf?” Scott asked him, I took a step closer to Scott grabbing onto his arm. This whole situation was tense, and I was beyond uncomfortable.

“He was. Now he’s barely even human. Six years ago, my sister and I were at school, and our house caught fire.” I looked up at Derek waiting for him to continue, “Eleven people were trapped inside. He was the only survivor.”

“So, what makes you so sure that they set the fire?” Scott asked, Derek, scoffed looking over at the both of us.

“Cause they're the only ones that knew about us.” He answered

“Then…they had a reason,” Scott tried to justify their actions but even I could see that something wasn’t right.

“Like what?” Derek asked, he turned grabbing the chair and turning it so we could see Peter’s face, “You tell me what justifies this.”

I covered my mouth to muffle my gasp. Half of Peter Hale’s face was completely scared his head falling to the side his eyes opened but unresponsive.

“They say, they’ll only kill an adult and only with absolute proof. But there were people in my family that were perfectly ordinary in that fire.” Scott and I both looked up at him, “This is what they do, and this is what Allison will do.”

“What are you doing? How did you get in here?” I turned to see a nurse staring at us

“We were just leaving,” Derek said motioning for us to leave. The car ride home was silent as Derek drove. He dropped us off in front of our house and I quickly went inside going directly to my room.

I dropped my backpack by the door before shutting it. I pulled my phone out of my pocket tossing it onto my bed to get ready for bed. I had stripped out of my clothes and had just got a sleep shirt on when it started to ring. I walked over looking at the screen seeing Stiles's name. I grabbed it answering it.

“Hey Sti-“

“oh, thank god,” Stiles sighed in relief not letting me finish, I rolled my eyes sitting down on my bed leaning back against the pillows.

“What do you want Stiles?” I asked him. I shuffled to pull my comforter from under me getting under the blankets. I turned my lamp off before rolling on my side using my pillow to keep the phone pressed to my ear.

“I- I um just wanted to make sure you made it home okay?” He sounds unsure of himself and I couldn’t help the small smile the broke out across my lips. I laughed softly, shaking my head.

“Yeah, Derek didn’t rip my throat out.” I joked keep my voice quiet in hopes Scott couldn’t hear me. I tried to muffle a yawn, a soft chuckle coming from Stiles. I could see the smirk in his voice.

“Get some sleep Kac,”

|| Previous | Next ||

Tags: @criminalyetminimal @itshouldbe @sammypotato67  @capandbuck

[johnnysnostril]

Without You

chapter sixteen

**present day**

ivy’s pov

playing with my fingers as i sat in front of mark, i placed my hands in my lap.

“i can tell that something is bothering you.” he voiced.

i slightly sighed and bit my bottom lip.

i couldn’t just come out and say it. i was too scared.

i didn't want to break anyone's heart. but i didn’t want mine to be broken either.

i was stuck. between two men. two great men.

mark reached down to hold my hands and squeezed them tightly.

“just say it.” he whispered.

i looked up at him, with sadness in my eyes.

“i’ve never been in this type of situation before.” i whispered back. “i never thought that i would actually like someone this much.”

he smiled, thinking it was him.

but it was johnny.

i gazed down at his busted lip.

“what happened?” i questioned him. “tell me the truth. i know johnny didn’t do that to you.”

running my thumb across his bottom lip, i felt the roughness of his scab. mark tilted his head a bit, glancing down at my lips too- before closing his eyes.

“at the party..” he started. “i got really drunk. there was this guy there, who kept taking shit.”

i furrowed my brows.

“what was he saying?”

mark shook his head.

“that doesn’t matter, ivy.” he released my hands, running his palms down his face.

“he was getting ready to leave and i followed him- we fought in the front of the house and that’s it.”

i thought for a minute.

“why did you fight him, mark?”

he was becoming frustrated with my prying.

“because, i have all this built up anger. i just needed to release it. i have anger issues.” he groaned in an honest tone.

my stomach was turning in knots. i never thought that he would be the one with the anger problem.

“is that why you and johnny...”

“yes.” he interrupted. “he’s always so hostile with me. that night, i seen an outlet and i took it.”

my chest was starting to become heavy.

“so you only fought him because you were just angry? not because of how you felt about me?”

he immediately shook his head, snaking his hand to the back of my neck.

‘that’s not what i meant.” he whispered as he nudged his nose against mine.

“i’m very attracted to you- but that night, i was just angry. look for a fight with anyone who would accept the invitation. and he bought into my anger.”

mark leaned in for a kiss, but i turned away.

his expression on his face changed.

“you're lying.” i said standing up.

he didn’t like me. he just wanted me because johnny wanted me. he wanted to make johnny upset, just by being around me.

“you used me for an anger outlet.” i said hugging myself.

mark furrowed his brows and stood up with me.

“that’s not what happened at all, ivy. don’t do that.” 

reaching for my hand, he started to come closer to me.

i held out my arm, keeping my distance as i walked backwards towards the door.

i felt slightly numb. like this was the first time that my heart had ever been broken.

it wasn't, but that’s not the point.

“please. just stay away from me.” i whispered as i walked out the door.

jaehyun’s pov

after practice, i decided to go to the basketball court. just to think a little.

as i dribbled the ball through my legs, the only thing that kept running through my mind was alonna’s picture.

she must've sent it to him. there was no other way that he would have got that picture.

but, why would she do it? after everything he put her through. maybe she really did still love him.

taking my frustration out on the court, i did a few layups before i noticed my phone going off.

i tilted my head as i approached the bench.

alonna was calling.

i hesitated to answer the phone.

*ring. ring ring.*

it kept ringing and all i could do was stare at the screen.

her caller ID was a picture of us, smiling like we were happy, at least, i thought we were.

the call ended, popping up with a missed called.

i sighed, taking a seat on the bench and closing my eyes.

the phone rang again.

this time, i answered.

“jae!” i heard her yelp through the other end.

“why are you ignoring me?” she cried.

“i’m not ignoring you, alonna. i’m at the park- trying to play basketball.” i said softly.

“i’ve called you 10 times already.. i need to see you. which park are you at?” she asked.

“can we please just wait until tomorrow..” i leaned my head back, looking up at the moon.

“this cant wait. please, jae... if you love me, you’ll hear my side..” alonna pleaded.

i hated the tone of her voice when she did that. made me feel so terrible.

i exhaled loudly, shaking my head.

“sunridge park..” i finally announced.

alonna quickly hung the phone.

alonna’s pov

hopping out of the uber, i thanked the driver- running over to the basketball court.

coming over the hill, i seen jae by himself- throwing the ball inside the hoop.

i was nervous about this conversation.

i just needed to know what was said.

“jae..” i called out for him as i approached the court.

he ignored me, picking up the ball as it bounce on the black asphalt.

i folded my arms around my chest, stepping onto the court and under the lamp-post.

“can you stop ignoring me please...” i whined as i made my way over to the large pole that held up the hoop.

jae slightly lifted himself off the ground, making the jump shot.

i quickly caught the ball before it made it to the ground.

he looked over at me, breathing heavily.

he stared at me for a moment before making his way over to me, reaching his hand out for the ball.

i slipped the ball behind my back, hiding it from him.

“not until you talk to me.” i whispered. 

i was fighting back tears as he stared down at me.

“what do you want me to say?” he finally spoke.

“i know you spoke to tae.. what happened?” i asked.

jaehyun rolled his eyes and reached for the ball again.

i smacked my lips, throwing the stupid basketball to the other side of the court.

“fucking tell me what happened! what did he say to you, to make you mad at me?!” i yelled.

his face was calm. he didn't move a muscle.

“i think that’s the first time you’ve yelled at me like that.” his tone was deep and raspy. almost like he was about to cry.

“communicate like the grown man that you claim to be.” i shouting, pushing his chest back. 

shutting his eyes, he stepped back a little- losing his balance.

jaehyun’s pov

i glued my eyes down to the floor. i wasn’t too sure on how to express these emotions. this was our first serious fight and i was terrified of the outcome.

i nodded my head.

“alright. let’s communicate then.” i started. “how did he get it..” 

“get what?” she asked in a confused tone.

my anger was starting to boil in my throat. and seconds later, i found myself spilling over.

“how the fuck did he get the picture, alonna?” i shouted, breathing a little heavy.

alonna didn’t flinch at all. she stood in front of me with her arms crossed.

“i have no idea what you’re talking about jaehyun.”

i breathed a laugh, waving her off and walking to the bench.

“stop playing dumb with me. you know what the hell im talking about.”

i was starting to see black. my eyes were clouded with frustration. i knew she was lying to me.

as i sat down, lowering my head- i cupped the back of my neck.

alonna slowly made her way over to me, kneeling down in front of me.

“babe, i honestly don’t know what you’re talking about.”

her attitude switched once she noticed that i meant business.

i wasn't going to play this game with her.

i shut my eyes, trying to calm myself down.

alonna placed both hands on my thighs, tilting her head to meet eyes with me.

“i don’t know what he told you- but i haven’t spoke to him since the night of johnny’s party.” she admitted. “i told you what he said to me in the pool house. he said, from his own mouth, that he hurt me on purpose. why would i need to speak to him after that, jae?”

cupping my chin, she lifted my head.

“i would never do anything to hurt you. he’s just trying to get in your head.” she whispered.

“he has the picture that you sent me..” i voiced hoarsely.

alonna chuckled then sat on the ground with her hands in her lap.

“i can’t believe he would go this far...just to hurt me.” she mumbled.

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

she sighed and ran her fingers through her long hair.

“he has access to my icloud. he must have signed in with my password and went through my shit..” she admitted.

i shook my head, clasping my hands together.

“why does he have access to your icloud, alonna?” 

she looked up at me with tears in her eyes.

“because, he wanted to make sure that i wasn’t seeing someone else, while i was with him..”

as she looked off to the side, a tear ran down her face.

now, i was starting to feel stupid.

“he sees that someone actually cares about me, and he just wants to ruin it all..”

alonna shut her eyes and hugged herself.

swallowing my pride, i fell to my knees- wrapping my arms around her.

“i should have just listened to johnny.. i’m so fucking sorry, babe.”

she quickly wrapped her arms around my neck and hugged back.

she softly laughed in my ear and shook her head.

“johnny? what did he say?”

placing small kisses on her neck, i mumbled against her skin.

“that you would never do anything like that, and that i was stupid for even thinking it was true.”

she pulled back, looking up at me- with sad eyes.

“he really said that...?” she questioned.

i nodded.

“now i feel bad for being mean to him.. he was on my side..”

johnny’s pov

i tossed the blanket from over my head and furrowed my brows.

“who the hell is it?” i groaned as the knock on the door continued.

no answer.

“i swear to god if its the cleaning people...” i mumbled. “the do not disturb sign is on the door!”

throwing my feet into my house slippers, i looked over at the clock.

“it’s 2am!” i shouted.

i rubbed my bare stomach, dragging myself down the stairs.

my pajama pants just barely clung to my hips, but honestly, i didn’t care. like i said, it was 2am. whoever was at this door was about to get a mouth full.

rolling my eyes, i swung back the door.

“what the hell do you-... ivy?” i said blinking quickly.

this had to be a dream. ivy was not standing in front of me.

rubbing my eyes, i blinked a few more times.

she was still in my doorway, dressed in an oversized hoodie and leggings.

“i’m sorry.. i didn’t even think you were going to be here- let alone be sleeping..”

i messily ruffled my hair, trying to fix it.

“i’m sorry..” she repeated, waving her hands in front of herself.

backing away from the door, she began to walk away.

i shook my head, stepping out of the doorway and reaching for her hand.

“don’t.” i whispered. “please, come in.”

i took her hand, pulling her inside the room and shut the door behind her.

she awkwardly stood in front of me, pulling her sleeves over her hands.

“would you like something to drink?” i asked, pointing towards the kitchen as i walked in that direction.

ivy shook her head and bit her bottom lip.

swallowing hard, i pushed down my emotions.

all i really wanted to do, was pick her up and kiss her.

i was excited that she was here. did that mean that she accepted my apology?

ivy followed behind me, sitting herself down in one of the chairs.

i laughed as she ran her sleeve against the counter in front of her.

“you might wanna get up.”

ivy slightly smiled. “why?” she answered back in a soft tone.

“your sister and jae had sex on that chair.” i said popping open a redbull.

ivy pretended to vomit as she stood up, quickly.

i shook my head and leaned against the fridge.

she frantically wiped off her butt and groaned.

“so gross.” she mumbled.

i stared at her for a moment, taking her features in.

she looked back at me, biting her lip once again.

the room filled with silence.

there was so much tension in the air, i felt like she was feeling exactly what i was feeling.

“why are you here, ivy?” i said cutting to the chase.

she shrugged her shoulder and sighed.

“i was trying to figure out a way to apologize to you- without looking stupid.” she laughed.

i watched as she walked closer to me, standing on the other side of the counter.

“i went to see mark.” she started. “on the way there, i was practice for how i was going to tell him, that i just couldn’t-” ivy glanced down at her feet.

“well, whatever you wanna call it.. i couldn’t do it anymore.”

i could tell she was slightly panicking, from her body language.

“because, after you left from the restaurant.. i couldn't stop thinking about you.” she mumbled quietly.

i smiled at her words. i knew this was taking a lot out of her to admit to the way she was feeling.

“then after, i talked to alonna about everything. she really made things- more clear, if you will.”

ivy shut her eyes, lowering her head.

i gently set my can on the counter, licking my lips and moving in front of her.

“i guess, all im trying to say is that..” she lifted her head, opening her eyes.

inhaling sharply, she placed her palms on the counter behind her, to lean back a little.

i slowly snaked my arms around her waist, pulling her against my chest.

“you’re saying that you want me?” i grinned.

ivy’s eyes were screaming of lust. i watched as her chest began to quickly rise and fall.

“i wanna hear you say it.” i whispered.

lowering my head to her neck, i breathed against her skin.

she smelled so good.

moving her hands around me, she clutched at the waistband of my pants, tilting her head to give more access to her neck.

placing soft kisses against her neck, i felt her body shiver. 

her breathing hitched in her throat as i gently sank my teeth into skin.

“tell me that you want me, just as bad as i want you- ivy.” i groaned.

as she ran her hands up my back, she sank her fingernails into my skin.

“i want you, johnny.” she breathed.

[nbapprentice]

there’s so, so, SO much nonsense surrounding this game that i’m gonna do my best to separate it into digestible bits, with its own categories. even then this is... wow. it’s big.

Warning tags will be added at the start of every section, but the general gist is: incest, pedophilia mentions, fetishization of rape and abuse, fetishization of mlm, fetishization of people of color, racism, ableism, nb erasure and transphobia. aside of the warnings, this post will also touch upon Scummy Business Practices

let’s get going

Dana Rune’s and Elle’s lack of moral fiber: #incest #pedophilia#rape and abuse fetishization #homophobia

tl;dr: dana loves incest porn, elle loves guy on guy rape, and the both of them are friends with at least one pedophile

dana rune has run, is still running an incest zine (please visit my faq on what i think about “thats not really incest” and “it’s just fictional!”). The Arcana, as a dev team, clearly does not care, as shown in their e-mail responses.

dana also very much doesn’t care and has reacted to any criticism on this by dismissing people and blocking actual incest victims who tried to contact her about it claiming it was for her “mental health”

in some tweets she claims she “interprets” the characters as not siblings, but she never really cared enough to cover her ass when it all began (she happily admits she’d “cross the incest line”)

dana has commissioned artists who also ship incest, draw near-pedophilic art that’s supposed to pass as acceptable because the character involved is supposedly not a minor despite looking like a child down to wearing pigtails (the character is also wearing a racist-ass belly dancer outfit), AND even made white-washed fanart of The Arcana.

dana follows twitter user kapymui who also produces incestuous Fire Emblem art

dana has retweeted omocat long after it came out that omocat is, at the very least, consuming pedophilic content (on “omocat didn’t know what shota meant!”: yes they did)

moving on, elle has a long, long, LONG history of fetishizing mlm and the rape and abuse that comes with yaoi and had a rich, RICH “yaoi” tag before they deleted their tumblr

they curiously deleted their tumblr right after i made this reblog

shortly after that, tumblr user thalassiq remade and started attacking and insulting any blogs criticizing them - even people providing support in IMs. Since this doesn’t match Dana and Elle’s normal pity parties I’m personally willing to believe they were just a person wanting to start shit - but it’s so telling how Elle used this chance to dismiss everyone who disagrees with them by calling them “children” and did not even bother to offer a kind word to people who were harassed and even had their trauma mocked by this person. It costs 0 dollars to say “that was not me but I’m sorry about people who were hurt.”

Dana and Elle are close with Ava’s Demon creator Michelle Czajkowski aka that one person who endorses child porn of her characters, and even had her draw a promo image for the game. Michelle has been creating highly sexualized content of her minor characters for a while now.

ok so elle and dana are gross freaks, how is that related to the game?

oh it’s very very related

Dana Rune’s and Elle’s lack of moral fiber that’s Actually Inside The Game or The Game’s Blog: now with more #racism #fetishization of poc and mlm #whitewashing #fat hate #pedophilia #nb erasure #transphobia

tl;dr: the arcana is filled to the brim with racism! so much of it! haha holy shit! and that’s not even where it ends!!!

their game is rated PG-13 but includes incredibly sexual situations such as Julian making this fucking face while getting off on pain. This isn’t the only time Dana and Elle use their videogame aimed at young teens to showcase their kinks and fetishes. I have no issue with NSFW or titillating content, as long as it’s rated accordingly. This content is NOT and it’s a blatant disregard for their audience just to have a larger, more pliable demographic and have more money sent their way.

if you start your argument with “well, teenagers look at porn” 1. shut up 2. theres a HUGE difference between teenagers going after adult content aimed at adults, and adults creating content they know will be seen by kids barely starting puberty

as pointed above, dana has 0 qualms literally commissioning people who make whitewashed fanart of her own fucking game that’s supposed to be all about the inclusivity and safe spaces

thearcanagame blog has a pattern of reblogging whitewashed fanart (before you come in swinging with the good ole “ITS THE LIGHTING”: 1. no it isnt 2. the artist should’ve picked better lightning then 3. i draw and post shit online too so dont come telling me i just dont understaaaand),

fanart of their fat characters showed skinnier than they are in their sprites (although to be real for a moment - Portia is curvy at most and them behaving she’s fat rep is HILARIOUS).

going back to NSFW content: nadia and asra are overwhemlingly sexualized in the game, and were the first to have sexualized CGs and sprites introduced.

CGs: Asra’s here, here aND HERE, Nadia’s here with a NSFW warning because she’s just got her whole fucking ass out. Sprites: Asra’s thank god for whoever compiled it all in one image, Nadia’s and once again, NSFW warning lmfao!

Julian’s sprites on the other hand are noticeably tamer, including the one where he’s fucking strapped in leather. His only sexual (NSFW warning because its literally softcore tentacle porn WHICH, ONCE AGAIN, SHOULDN’T BE PUT IN A GAME AIMED AT 13YOS) CGs were also included months after Nadia and Asra received any of theirs.

Through all of the updates, people have constantly requested that Asra and Nadia’s sexualization be toned down, and time after time The Arcana just churned out fetishistic, hypersexualized content at an absurd rate, especially when compared to the one white love interest.

Oh, speaking of the one white love interest: Julian is based off of Jeff Goldblum (this is not spectulation - they p much bring it up at any given time) but like. If Jeff Goldblum was white. They base their favorite love interest off their supposed favorite man in the world but casually leave his skin tone behind. Lmao.

they also play favorites very obviously - in the prologue, Nadia and Asra have a romance paid scene each. Julian has a scene... that requires no coins. Julian was also the first LI to receive three CGs, two of them requiring no coins, while both Asra’s and Nadia’s first CGs were behind a paywall

Dana and Elle have been notoriously skittish about confirming or denying their characters’ ethnicities. After hyping for weeks on thearcanagame that they would confirm the character’s races they basically made a post that amounted to “well they’re not white lol!”

they only relented after the perfectly understandable outrage... and posted a thread about it on Elle’s twitter. Nothing on the actual thearcanagame blog. Anyway, here’s the thread. Note how there’s mention of Julian being Jeff Goldblum... but nothing about him and Portia being Jewish (or “fantasy Jewish” as it were).

The one time they did confirm their jewishness dana then backpedaled and said she shouldn’t have done that lol.

another fun tidbit of how well The Arcana handles race and how much it cares about feedback from fans: an ask was sent about an anon begging for Nadia to step on them. The blog, with the finesse of a bunch of horny dumbasses, didn’t just publish the ask, but approved of it (even though the fans of color had long, long, LONG been telling everyone not to fetishize Nadia into a “step on me kween” wet dream). People were outraged, of course, and the blog ~apologized~ and said they were still learning.... then a new chapter included a scene of Nadia stepping on the Apprentice. 🙃

not to mention elle, on their twitter, made a passive aggressive “women can be doms?” tweet, trying to twist it into a “yr oppressing women” angle (when the issue is that women of color are always constantly portrayed as aggressive and domineering)

Now for a wombo combo of racism and Elle’s fetishization of mlm:

the devs have spoken at length of how Julian’s and Asra’s relationship was quite unhealthy. In a paid scene in Asra’s route, they’re depicted as Asra being disgusted w Julian touching him+Julian following Asra to his shop when Asra refused his offer to go with him (aka julian... stalked him lmfao).

.......... this scene is promptly followed by a highly sexual scenario where Julian’s pain fetish is played up. Remember how this game is rated PG-13? Me neither. Asra’s previous disgust with Julian is also forgotten, for some reason (and by some reason i mean Elle wants to make them fuck w/o buildup or logic).

Then Asra’s route has yet another paid scene dedicated to Asrian, even though he’s supposed to not even like Julian! And be head over heels with the Apprentice! But Elle just has to make these two be entangled despite insisting their relationship was not good for either of them!

Now here’s the kicker: Julian doesn’t have any paid scenes related to his romance with Asra. Note how it’s one of the brown LIs whose route is highjacked by the white LI, but not vice versa. Hmmmmm.

Now, on the topic of Asra: thearcanagame has said repeatedly that he’s nb and uses he/him pronouns, and promised (since last year) that there would be dialogue where he speaks about his gender

as of the making of this post such dialogue still does not exist

so basically asra is the nb to dumbledore’s gay: anyone who just plays the game w/o keeping up with the official blog has no idea of what asra’s gender is supposed to be.

aka he’s not nb. he’s just a cis guy. the arcana just doesn’t want to put its money where its mouth is, i dont care if elle is nb themself. the team made a promise which has not been fulfilled yet and i suspect will not be.

instead, our introduction to canon nb characters is... these two.

By “these two” i mean neither vulgora nor valdemar are even fucking human, and stick out like sore thumbs with their monstruousness.

so our nb rep is... non-human villains. a few books later one of Nadia’s sisters with they/them pronouns shows up, but that’s too little too late on top of the fact that we should’ve known Asra was nb from the first to begin with. It’s a fucking embarrassment and an insult.

at least two villains are visibly disabled (Lucio’s missing arm and Volta’s blind eye+intentionally asymmetrical face). Julian’s eye doesn’t count because, spoilers, he’s not lacking an eye and even if he was it’d still be hidden behind a dashing eyepatch instead of grotesquely displayed as a sign of his lacking morality.

BUT WAIT! IT DOESN’T EVEN END THERE!

The Arcana Exploits The App Business Model To Price Their Full Game at $500, $1000 if the three extra routes make it out, and they never delivered their Kickstarter rewards:

tl;dr: you heard me

the original price per route was planned on being $1.99

they took that “subject to change” really seriously, it seems, because now each route, once the game is fully out, is estimated to cost around $170 each.

both those screenshots are taken from this post which explains in detail just how truly scummy all of The Arcana’s business model and decisions are: https://mysticmicrotransactions.tumblr.com/post/174308723344/dishonesty-from-the-arcana

the tl;dr is basically what’s listed in the beginning of this section, but other highlights from that post are: the use of addictive gambling mechanics such the Wheel of Fortune, and the dazzling calls to action in the new mini-game.

something that The Arcana supporters forget (or choose to ignore) is the fact that for a long, long time the game did not have the mini-game or the log-in rewards for coins. Players depended only on the gambling of the WoF or paying absurd amounts of money for the new chapters.

the devs went from playing the victims who were unable of controlling prices to (as spoken of in the link from mysticmicrotransactions) saying the making of the game (a pathetic little app game backed by a studio and a kickstarter) justifies the prices

they also gave people false hope about maybe changing the prices in the future, all while bleeding money from loyal players in “micro” transactions

the arcana literally added a $99.99 coins option on their latest update

in case it hasn’t sunk in yet: you can pay a hundred dollars upfront to the arcana, and you still will not have access to the whole game

there is no defense to this

none

“it’s free stop whining” let me explain:

“spend months on end accumulating fake currency or pay hundreds of dollars up-front to be able to play” is a scummy business model no matter how you look at it

if i can spend $60 upfront to play an AAA game there’s no excuse to demand more than that for a game with much smaller and, honestly, inferior content

the combination of there being already far and few games featuring lgbt characters and characters of color AND the little cult of personality set up by Dana and Elle makes people feel that spending money to support them is an acceptable expense.

it’s not

manipulating people into spending ridiculous amounts of money and then claiming “it’s their choice” is just scummy business, baby, and thats all the arcana does

the devs are brats who instead of admitting $500 is absurd for a game instead write petty little caricatures into their game - like, lbr: dana, elle, if i could afford diamonds in my hair i wouldn’t have even bothered with your shitstain of a game

despite bragging that ppl would get the full story w/o needing to pay, the paid scenes are pretty much required - the first few books of julian’s route have no romance without accessing any of the paid options. you dont even get so much as a kiss in without handing coins over. many, many people were baffled when julian had a teary break-up scene when from their perspective they hadn’t even started building a relationship.

wow that’s more than i ever thought it’d be

and i’ve been aware of their bullshit for near a whole year now!

i don’t have much of a note to end this on, other than: the arcana just isn’t even that good. it suffers from weak writing, pathetic character development and above all actually harmful content. do not try to argue with me on any of these points unless you’ve read all of that, because whatever you have to say i’ve likely mentioned before. if you still are that determined to yell at a me on the internet, please preface your argument with the phrase “I’m a pee pee poo poo man” so I know you’ve read everything in here. thank you!

[cheekybabycal]

Look at Me in the Eye

Summary: Calum and Y/N decided to give their relationship another shot, but it’s not long until the two become three. Now Y/N is faced with a difficult decision.

PART ONE

Rating: 14+

TRIGGER WARNINGS: anxiety, panic attacks

Warnings: swearing, mentions of unprotected sex, mild smut

Word count: 2.6k

Author’s note: my first fanfic on tumblr! Welcome to my page, hope you enjoy the shit I post. My writing is usually long (about 2k and above) so join the ride if you’re patient. That’s it, happy reading!

Y/N didn’t really believe in karma. She didn’t think that there was some weird, hidden force, returning positive or negative energy back to her. If she got something she wanted, it was because she worked hard for it. Not because she helped someone she barely knew find their way to a classroom back in 2013. Or if, god forbid, something bad happened to her, she would trace it back to why it occurred, and she would never assume it happened because of something mean she said a few months back.

But as she sat on the edge of her bed, her hands gripping the hem of her grey NYU sweater, her mind racing and her heart pounding in her ears, silencing the noise of the early January wind outside her window, she couldn’t help but think about what she could have possibly done to the world to end up in this position.

There were only a few times in Y/N’s 21 years of living in which she was, at least in her own opinion, unnecessarily rude. Other than that, she can’t think of anything she has done for ‘karma’ to come back and bite her in the ass. Okay, so maybe she stole a tiny stuffed puppy key chain back in 2nd grade, but surely that didn’t count...

Y/N wasn't stupid. She knew unprotected sex had consequences. She had learned enough in 9th grade health class to last her a lifetime. She knew about chlamydia and herpes and warts and HIV, and of course, pregnancy. But ever since she got back together with Calum (a decision she might be starting to regret), she had been happy. As in, actually, literally, genuinely happy. And so, it didn’t really bother her if they fucked without protection. The first time they did, though, after they got back together, was after quite a few hours of partying, both of them ridiculously drunk. She remembers leaving sloppy kisses on Calum’s skin, however much of it she could reach, as they stumbled into his apartment (which she moved into a few weeks after that night). She also remembers freaking the fuck out the next morning and running to the closest convenience store to buy a Plan B.

After that night, Y/N went on the pill and tried her best to keep up with the schedule. She even went as far as setting reminders on her phone for the first few months. But when her phone suddenly started blasting during a lecture, she was quick to get rid of the alarms altogether, and made a mental note to herself to take the pill at the same time every day.

And truth to be told, she was pretty consistent with it.

Until she wasn't.

Y/N and Calum had been tested and both of them were clean in the STI area, so using a condom or a birth control pill was solely for the purpose of not getting pregnant. However, since taking the pill at the exact same time, every single day on a regular basis was a bit of a challenge, they decided to go back to the classic – and easier – protection method, condoms. At first, Y/N didn’t want to say anything to Calum because she knew that for some men, condoms reduced the total amount of pleasure they would feel, but it turned out that Calum was fine with using them, and that was the end of that.

For the life of her, Y/N can’t remember how this could have happened. Never in a million years would Y/N think that she would be sitting alone on the bed she shared with Calum, shaking with fear of what was about to come.

Well, technically, she wasn't sure. Not yet anyway.

She couldn't bring herself to take the test.

So there she sat, on the bed, her heart hammering as she felt a panic attack coming. And it did.

Just as her lungs started to tighten and her head started to spin and her limbs started feeling numb, Y/N heard the front door open.

“Hey, I'm home.” Calum’s voice rang in her ears, causing her breath to hitch in her throat. She couldn't call back to him if she wanted to, and God, this was the worst timing possible because Y/N knew, she just knew, that the second she would see Calum, the whole thing would get even worse.

She tries to focus on her breathing, but her head is spinning too fast for her to count her inhales and exhales. So instead she tries grounding herself, sliding off the bed to land on the floor and grip the soft carpet under her. It doesn’t help.

“Babe?” Y/N can hear his footsteps coming down the hall and towards the bedroom, and all she wants to do is melt into the carpet that she’s gripping so hard. She hugs her legs tightly to her chest (bad move, since she can’t breathe) and rests her forehead on her knees, planning to keep herself hidden from him for as long as she can.

“There you are.”

Well, there goes that plan.

“Shit, Y/N are you okay?” he’s by her side within seconds of stepping across the threshold of the room, crouching down beside her and placing a hand on her shoulder. “What happened babe? Where does it hurt? Do you want some water?”

She looks up at him, a single tear spilling down her left cheek as she tries to control her breathing. He is so caring, so sweet, so loving to her, and she’s about to crash his entire life and everything he’d worked hard for.

“Fuck, it’s another one, isn't it? It’s okay, just focus on me,” he speaks calmly, now sitting next to her on the floor and wrapping his right arm around her. Calum was familiar with Y/N’s panic attacks and had helped her through a few, so it was safe to say he knew what he was doing.

She rests her head against his shoulder almost immediately, and as her heart continues to pound out of her chest, her arms give out and drop by her sides, causing her legs to wobble and land in an awkward lean against Calum. “Just focus on me,” he repeats. “focus on the sound of my voice. Here, give me your hand.” He gently takes her hands in his left one and starts playing with the rings on her fingers, and then the bracelets on her wrists. “These are really pretty. Almost as pretty as you. But I like this one,” he says, gliding his thumb over the small and simple rock-centered ring. “It kind of reminds me of that sculpture thing we saw at that mall downtown, do you remember that one? With the rocks and the little fake birds. It was fun to look at.”

Y/N knows what he’s doing: distracting her, and it’s working.

“I... yeah, remember,” she says weakly and between sharp inhales of air. “keep … keep talking.”

“Right, I always thought it was weird though. Because birds fly in the sky, and maybe near mountains, but the rocks on the sculpture looked like ones you would find on the beach, you know? And the birds didn’t look anything like seagulls, either, so what was the artist trying to accomplish?”

A light, throaty chuckle leaves Y/N’s throat, and she realizes that her heartbeat is starting to slow.

“Anyways, today was a good day at the studio. We got this really cool new song. Not the whole thing, but we have the bass down, thanks to me...” He laughs then, and she swears that the sound of it started to clear her head. “and Luke and Ash are working on the lyrics real hard, so that’s a plus.” and as he continued to talk about his day, Y/N feels her lungs opening up again, and oxygen reaching her brain again, and her heart rate slowing down back to normal. Almost, anyway. But it’s good enough.

After what seemed like forever, her breathing goes back to normal and she feels grounded. With a weak smile, she looks up at him, wanting to kiss every inch of his face and then his neck, and she wants to whisper in his ear that she is having his child but she isn’t sure yet and she doesn’t know if he would be happy or not and her thoughts are suffocating her so she just looks into his eyes.

He brushes a few loose strands of hair behind her ear and leans down slowly. Ever so gently, he tilts her head, looks into her eyes, then at her lips, and closes the small distance between them. He presses his lips against hers lightly, and at that moment he could swear that this was the most intimate kiss they’d ever had, and when Y/N grabs his face with both of her hands and deepens the kiss, Calum is sure.

They fit so perfectly. Like they are meant for each other, and a slow warmth crawls up Y/N’s body and rests on her cheeks, a light pink spreading against her face. She smiles against his lips and pulls away, looking up at him, his chocolate eyes meeting her hazel ones. Their gaze holds for a moment, each looking into the other’s soul, and then she straddles him, resting her forehead against his.

“I love you,” she whispers, and even though they have already said I love you to each other about a dozen times since they got back together, she can feel Calum’s grip on her waist tighten before he relaxes a split second later and wraps his arms around her to pull her closer to him.

“I love you, too. So, so much”

Y/N can feel herself loosen, the stress she felt from earlier dissolving just a bit after hearing him say it back to her. At least now she knows that once she tells him, once she actually finds out for sure, that he will be supportive.

Hopefully.

She kisses him again, this time with more fury, like she can melt all her worries away with his lips. Her hands find their way to the nape of his neck and she plays with the dark curls there as he tugs on the material of her sweater. It’s a beautiful, passionate moment, but she wants more. Experimentally, she grinds her hips down on his, and a low groan escapes from the back of his throat and she feels the vibration of it on her lips. Taking that as a positive sign, Y/N continues to move her hips, grinding down on his forming erection and hearing his breathing quicken. She loved the sounds he made when he was just beginning to get aroused, because it almost sounded like he was trying to fight it, and Y/N always found that oh so sexy. Pulling her out of thought, Calum slips a hand under her sweater, rubbing circles against her back before moving it up to cup her breast. She sighs into his mouth, quickening the pace of their kiss as she relishes in the feel of his skin against hers.

But then he lowers his hand to her ribs, down her stomach, and when his fingers gently graze against her abdomen, she opens her eyes and stops everything she is doing, pushing him away with just a bit of force.

Calum blinks at her. Pulls his hand away. “uh... did I do something?”

She bites her lower lip and looks away, shaking her head. Great. Now she had to explain why she was all weird, which would most likely lead to him asking why she had a panic attack in the first place.

Just great.

“I... um, no. You didn't do anything wrong; I’m just jumpy today is all.”

He continues to look at her, as if he is debating whether to ask what’s really wrong, and Y/N prays that he won’t actually do it. After a long moment, Calum sighs and wraps his arms around her, and she leans into him, her face resting against his shoulder.

They stay like that for a while before starting what they had going before, back up again. It doesn’t take long for them to get really into it, and soon they’re stretched out on the floor, Calum lying on his back on the carpet and Y/N on top of him. They are a mess of lips and teeth and tongue and hair but they’re laughing and Y/N feels lighthearted. She stops to look at him, to really take in the beautiful sight that is her boyfriend, and then helps him get rid of his shirt. She’s a bit shaky when he slips his hands under her sweater to take it off, but she decides against pushing him away and instead lifts her arms to help him. After Calum pulls her sweater off of her, he sits up, with Y/N still on his lap, a look of worry on his eyes.

“Hey,” he says gently, lifting her chin so he could really look at her. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

“Calum, you know I know that,” Y/N really isn't sure what else to say.

He stares at her, then presses his lips softly against her forehead. That’s all it takes for her to kiss him again. It’s a heated, passionate kiss, full of emotion, like they haven’t seen each other in years, and they can’t get enough of it, of each other. She pushes him back down on the floor and bends over him, smiling against his lips as she starts to grind on him. He lowers his hands to her ass, squeezing gently before hooking his thumbs in the waistband of her leggings and dragging them down. She gasps into his mouth as his fingers linger over her belly but she doesn’t want to disrupt the moment, so she ignores the nervousness that starts to poke her in the back of her mind. She can tell he wants this to go forward, and there isn’t much she can do when he raises his arms to her back and unhooks her bra.

She wants this; she really does. It’s been a long day for her and there is nothing she’d rather do than spend the night wrapped in Calum’s arms. But if she’s this sensitive to when he’s touching her near the abdomen, how will she react when he’s inside of her? Y/N doesn’t want to find out.

“Cal...” she breathes his name to get his attention, but he sees it as a sign of encouragement as he trails his lips from her jaw to her neck, leaving marks here and there, and her breath hitches in her throat because Calum’s lips on her skin are setting a slow-burning fire within her and she just wants it to grow.

He flips them over so he's hovering over her, and buries his face into her neck, trailing the forming hickies down to her sternum, to each of her breasts. He takes his time with her, getting her to gasp and moan as he pays attention to each nipple. Once he feels it’s enough, he continues his path, trailing his lips and tongue down her stomach, along the faint line of her abs, and then right down to...

She pushes him off before he can get to her lower abdomen, startling him. Sighing, Calum pulls away and sits up. “That’s it. What’s wrong?”

[ddaenggtan]

from eden | myg + jhs (preview)

you've been in the dark a long time, overworked and exhausted. the only bright point is your gatekeeper, hoseok, your closest friend and the man you love but can't have. you've accepted that loneliness is inevitable for you. when a voice calls to you, though, and moves you so deeply that you rip open the earth to help them, you meet a mint-haired boy that changes everything you thought you knew about your prison.

pairing | yoongi x reader x hoseok

genre/warnings | greek god au, hades!reader, thanatos!hoseok, persephone!yoongi, fluff, angst, smut, mild depictions of violence, mentions of blood (well, blood equivalent, bc gods), pining, depictions of abusive parenting (seriously, I don’t go into a ton of detail, but it’s enough, pls don’t read this if that triggers you at all), love triangle (kind of), polyamory, v v smutty, mutual masturbation, oral (female receiving), face-sitting, fingering, dick-riding, double penetration, unprotected sex (gods can't get sti's but u can! Wrap it b4 u tap it!), creampie, everyone hates Zeus but what's new, demeter sucks and is the literal worst

word count | 15.6k | will be cross posted to ao3

[ coming saturday june 15, 8pm est ]

It's dark when you open your eyes. You've spent so long down here, you're used to it, but the shadows always seem to make the air colder than it should be. Though you suppose the land of the dead isn't supposed to be warm.

You stretch and wince at the crick in your spine. Another night sitting at your desk, greek fire burning through the hours so that you can scratch away at the papers in front of you. Your siblings always enjoy doing whatever they want, using mortals and throwing them away however they please, cleaning up after each other whenever they can spare the time.

No one ever seems to think about you, nor do they remember the chaos up top only worsens your constant migraines.

No, instead they start their wars and slaughter their enemies and are absolutely oblivious about the fact that the Meadow is at 80% capacity as it is, with more souls arriving each day. Thanatos did well at his job, as did Charon, and you were always sure to be thankful to them, but you wish, not for the first time, that there was someone - anyone - to help with your work.

Your brothers have the naiads, the winds, and the lesser gods to help them with their oceans and skies. Gods of vengeance and retribution help with war, while the fertility goddesses and the muses aid the lovelorn.

And yet here you are, still alone after all these years. Millenia, you've been stuck down here, forced to live out your days in the cold darkness and manage the dead mortals. You've always been introverted, even before you drew lots with your siblings, but never like this. You've tried to leave, of course; at first making short visits to Olympus or the mortal realm, just to speak to another living soul again, someone else who understands what it's like to be trapped in your own life. It seems like every time you came back, though, the underworld had gotten smaller and smaller, nearly suffocating you in an attempt to keep its claws in your skin. And then, of course, came the curse.

You haven't felt the sun on your skin in nearly a thousand years, and while you've always been one for the shade, you miss it. You miss the smell of the flowers in the temples, you miss the sound of the river as it babbles past, you want to feel the warm summer breeze ruffle your hair as you stand in the middle of a marketplace. You're tired of the Fields, you're bored of walking the streets of Elysium with the weight of their stares at your back, sick of standing at the steps to the Isles and wondering if it is, truly, euphoric and if any mortal would ever find out. You don't wear your sandals around the palace anymore; you don't want to hear the footsteps echo. It's just a reminder that you are, truly, alone.

Even the other deities in the Underworld have stopped calling on you. The aura that surrounds you is enough to wilt most any plant, unnerve most every animal, and the gods are no exception. The only exceptions are Hecate, who makes it her personal mission to bribe you into visiting the Meadow if only for a moment, and Thanatos when he can slip away for longer than a moment to distract you from your work. They rarely succeed, but it's the thought that counts, you suppose.

You muse on this as you walk, bare feet skimming lightly over the soil of the Meadow as you make your way to the Gates. You could probably just shadow-walk, if you wanted, you do enjoy giving your Thanatos a fright, but you figure the walk would do you good. There’s no one to bother you as go, thankfully. The dead wander aimlessly around you. There's no acknowledgment as you pass; there's never any recognition of anything in the Meadow, the price mortals pay for being so utterly inconsequential and mundane.

You smile when you see that your friend is busy, and you give a silent command to Cerberus not to alert the man to your presence. The dog whines a little, but sits back on his haunches, shaking the ground as he does so. You're silent as you move up behind the judge.

"You wanted me to tell you my judgment and I have," Hoseok says firmly. "You could have gone straight to the Asphodel Meadow and existed in relative peace for eternity, and instead you request a hearing, and then have the gall to question my decision?" You grimace slightly; perhaps putting Hoseok in charge of judging the souls was not the best idea, but he has yet to be wrong about someone.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... ... 

When you emerge from the shadows, you settle at the base of your garden tree. The only living thing that would grow down here, the sole reminder of the world above. Its branches show that it should be close to the harvest soon, maybe a month away at the most. You reach up, weaving through the darkness to pluck a pomegranate from the tree. You don't even like pomegranates anymore, you think as you inspect it. Ripe, juicy, and utterly disgusting; the gods' idea of a joke. The thing that brought about your isolation, your solitude, yet it continues to be the only thing that grows in this wasteland.

You laugh bitterly before tossing the fruit up in the air, letting it fly through the shadows to land beside Hoseok, whatever he's doing. He always appreciates your little gifts, the only real thing you can do to show that you aren't cross with him and are glad for the work he does. He's long been stuck here with you, but the fruit doesn't turn to bile on his tongue the way it does yours. Perhaps the willingness he had that first time made a difference.

Please.

You glance around, looking for the voice that suddenly echoes around you. It's soft, a memory of a whisper. It's not rare for you to hear the voices of the dead in your realm, but this is different. This one strikes you to your core, for this…

This one sounds hopeful.

The prayers that make their way to you are never hopeful. They are sad or angry or scared, always filled with tears and regret and more than a little hesitancy, but never do they have any shred of hope in them.

You stand, eyes narrowed as you look through the darkness for whatever soul may be calling to you.

Please. I don't want to go back. Don't let her take me.

Without thinking, you reach into the shadows. The blackness swirls around your fingers, unsure where you're trying to go. You don't know yourself, and you wish you did. You aren't sure why you're doing this; you rarely answer prayers, least of all the ones that don't mention you specifically, but something in this voice calls to you. It resonates in your chest, shakes your very being because you remember that feeling. You remember the way it felt to be free, standing in the sun and clawing at the earth as Gaia dragged you back down to your post, tears mixing with the dirt as you pleaded, begged her not to take you back down there.

With a jerk, you pull the shadows apart, and the ground quakes above you. You watch, anxiety pooling in your gut, and it's only the intensity of your focus that lets you see it: a figure, falling limply through the earth that you've opened. The string of curses you let out would make even Ares blush, and it's with a rush you haven't felt in millennia that you weave the shadows together into a net and toss it upwards. The figure falls into it with ease, shadows wrapping around the body to glide gently downwards until they can deposit the person with ease at the roots of your tree.

Your breath catches in your throat as the darkness recedes, revealing soft mint hair with flowers woven into it, pale green robes that are sliced nearly in half at the back and caked with mud. The man is beautiful and soft and bright, every inch the antithesis to your own black and grey clothes. You hesitate to even look at him, too afraid of dulling that sun-kissed skin with the death you carry on your fingertips.

His brow furrows and he winces, though his eyes remain closed. You blink owlishly before guiding the shadows around him once more; when you're sure he's secure, you pull him along behind you until you reach the only spare room you have in the palace. You situate him on the bed there, fluffing pillows and smoothing blankets until you can almost pretend he fell asleep there of his own accord. With pursed lips, you assign three of your Bones to watch him; one just inside the door and two outside of it, just in case whatever he was running from attempts to come for him.

You don't want to leave him, but you have work to do, and the land of the dead cannot rule itself.

[borisbubbles]

01. LITHUANIA

Ieva Zasimauskaite - “When we’re old” 12th place

After six, long arduous months, this ranking somehow outlived the entire Almaia relationship, and that alone should be reason enough to finish the ranking immediately, but the the upcoming ban of all nfsw stuff (/porn) from this website will also cause a homosexual exodus (homosexodus? 🤔), sooooo, definitely time to finish this ranking before I lose 85% of my current audience. 

Look, listen OKAY, just like how I naturally gravitate towards Lea Sirk’s sass and Elina’s pristineness and DoReDoS’s hilarious whateverthatwas, I was simply never *not* going to like a Lithuanian frumpy space princess and annointed HINDU with a voice more brittle than Theresa May’s position in the House of Commons, whose meditation rites include drinking a cup of boiling water (without the tea! just water) on a daily basis to *purify* her mind and soul. Okay the last MAY be an exaggeration on the behalf of the Flemish commentator (Peter Van de Veire is a known jokester), but then again, I can totally see Ieva telling this to random bystanders in her hotel lobby? Such oblivious, but well-meaning wackiness is just so Ieva SassyMouseKyte. 

Naturally, one MASSIVE part of my Ieva stanning is JUST her personality, which is both intensely kooky and disarmingly innocent, see above. Another example: Ieva serenly sliding off the stage during the semifinal, only to find the nearest camera and exclaim  ”I FELT THE PRESENCE OF *GODS* ON THE STAGE WHILE I WAS SINGING ^__^ I FEEL *ENLIGHTENED* 🤗🤗” llke she was Siddharta Gautama under the Bodhi tree <3 I am no a religious man but if Ieva said the stage was brightened with a non-descript Eastern Deity’s presence during the performance, who am I to refute it? 😁 

Gods or no gods, I will say that it took a *serious* amount of dharma to give us *the most unexpected gift* we’ve ever could’ve been granted, which is a COMPETENT EUROVISION ENTRY FOR LITHUANIA. In terms of Eurovision, Lithuania are amongst of the objective *worst* on a  terrifyingly consistent basis and here you have a fairly pleasant Ellie Goulding-inspired, frumpolicious Hindu cleric bringing a ballad about the inevitability of high medieval alliance pacts. Let’s Sing The Song That She Wrote:

Actually that’s selling the act a bit short, because for a brief moment, Ieva managed to transform her moment during the sheer INSANITY that was this year’s finale (well the sheer insanity streaked with horrifying, terrible, machinal dullness, not naming any names but *cough*austriaandaustralia*cough), into an oasis of *pure show-stopping sentiment* and that’s a powerful feat to accomplish for a Eurovision entry. Normally, you think such an entry would Blackbird itself into oblivion but as Ieva had prophetically declared, GOD WAS ON HER SIDE, AMEN, so nope, think again Christerifer Morningstar 😈

Speaking of, praise Hallellujah, Oh Glory and Mazzel-Motherfucking-Tov that Ieva qualified under the hilarity that is the current combined voting system (to those who still hate it, AISEL would’ve qualified under the old system despite being 12th in both jury and televote 🙃 Granted this would be funny if this had happened to Sennek or Ari or Eye Cue or basically anyone other than Aisel, but it didn’t so The Old System remains CANCELLED, s/n/s) because not only is Ieva an Elyon Goddess Moste High, and has the unique quality of being a Good Entry from Lithuania, “When We’re Old” is also... fucking awesome in itself?

 “When we’re old” is *not* your typical BorisBubbles fave on the surface (lol as if I can expect you to know what a typical Boris fave is after only two full rankings  on tumblr 😬), but it totally is? Ieva hits that personal sweet spot for me that I require from my faves: Quirky, but not overbearingly weird. Well-liked, but not liked *enough* to top every post-show list. Sentimental, but because her emotions are *real*, not because of some forced commercialized acting gig. (such as, um, fucking Rona Nishliu and her fake-as-fuck dry sobbing ugh die bitch! (k not literally, just musically, 5ever)). Also, this song makes me want to sing along like the soft ass fag that I am. “When Weeeeeeeeee’re OWLED Hooooooooooooooo!!!” All of this cements Ieva as a dark horse, an underdog and an eternal outsider and these are  the *specific*  type of entries that I started this blog for.   

I guess I should write a bit more, with more *sass and pizzazz*, but that’s basically my Ieva love in a nutshell! I think she’s an utter gem, both as a human and a Eurovision participant, “When We’re Old” *still* remains the only entry this year to give me *emotional attachment* in the form of shivers and near-tears and bad impromptu karaoke.  If you don’t think she’s all that, well that’s your loss, not sorry! She made the final through the good graces of Hare Krishna and did better than Jessi*can’t* and *No*lexander ! If I get a relationship, I want it be precisely like Ieva and her Hubbo’s. GET A LIFE!!

ALL HAIL THE QUEEN OF EUROVISION 2018

Thank you for reading this ranking, it’s been a blast! See you on the 1st of April 2019 for the #TelAviv2019 preshow ranking. God bless you and shalom! 

EUROVISION 2018 - POST SHOW

01. Lithuania (Ieva Zasimauskaite - “When we’re old”) 02. Moldova (DoReDoS - “My Lucky Day”)

03. Estonia (Elina Nechayeva - “La Forza”)

04. Slovenia (Lea Sirk - “Hvala, ne!”)

05. Switzerland (ZiBBZ - “Stones”)

06. Germany (Michael Schulte - “You let me walk alone”)

07. Albania (Eugent Bushpepa - “Mall”)

08. France (Madame Monsieur - “Mercy”)

09. Hungary (AWS - “Viszlát nyár”)

10. Finland (Saara Aalto - “Monsters”)

11. Bulgaria (EQUINOX - “Bones”)

12. Denmark (Rasmussen - “Higher ground”)

13. Malta (Christabelle - “Taboo”)

14. Cyprus (Eleni Foureira - “Fuego”)

15. United Kingdom (SuRie - “Storm”)

16. Serbia (Balkanika - “Nova Deca”)

17. Portugal (Cláudia Pascoal - “O jardim”)

18. The Netherlands (Waylon - “Outlaw in ‘em”)

19. Ukraine (MÉLOVIN - “Under the ladder”)

20. Macedonia (Eye Cue - “Lost and Found”)

21. San Marino (Jessika ft. Jenifer Brening - “Who We Are”)

22. Sweden (Benjamin Ingrosso - “Dance You Off”)

23. Austria (Cesár Sampson - “Nobody but you”)

24. Latvia (Laura Rizzotto - “Funny girl”)

25. Azerbaijan (AISEL - “X my heart”)

26. Israel (Netta - “Toy”)

27. Norway (Alexander Rybak  - “That’s how you write a song”)

28. Montenegro (Vanja Radovanovic - “Inje”)

29. Armenia (Sevak Khanagyan - “Qami”)

30. Poland (Gromee ft. Lukas Meijer - “Light me up”)

31. Greece (Yianna Terzi - “Oniro mou”)

32. Georgia (Iriao - “For you”)

33. Belgium (Sennek - “A matter of time”)

34. Italy (Ermal Meta & Fabrizio Moro - “Non mi avete fatto niente”)

35. Romania (The Humans - “Goodbye”)

36. Ireland (Ryan O'Shaughnessy - “Together”)

37. Croatia (Franka - “Crazy”)

38. Belarus (ALEKSEEV - “Forever”)

39. Russia (Julia Samoylova - “I Won’t Break”)

40. Spain (Amaia & Alfred - “Tu canción”)

41. Iceland (Ari Ólafsson - “Our choice”)

42. Australia (Jessica Mauboy - “We got love”)

43. Czech Republic (Mikolas Jozef - “Lie to me”)

HALL OF BORIS BUBBLES EUROVISION FAVES (1972-2018) 1972: the Netherlands (Sandra & Andres - “Als het om de liefde gaat”) 1973: United Kingdom (Cliff Richard - “Power to all our friends”) 1974: Sweden (ABBA - “Waterloo”) (ed: totally by default btw. Shit year.) 1975: Germany (Joy Fleming - “Ein Lied kann Eine Brücke Sein” )  1976: Luxembourg (Jürgen Marcus - “Chansons pour ceux qui s’aiment”) (😂) 1977: Belgium (Dream Express - “A million in 1-2-3″) (ed.: top five ESC year) 1978: Israel (Izhar Cohen & Alfabeta - “A Ba Ni Bi”) 1979: Germany (Dschinghis Khan - “Dschinghis Khan”) 1980: Luxembourg (Sofie & Magaly - “Papa Pingouïn”) 1981: Belgium - (Emly Starr - “Samson”) 1982: Germany - (Nicole - “Ein Bißchen Frieden”) 1983: Israel (Ofra Haza - “Hi”) 1984: Ireland (Linda Martin - “Terminal 3″) 1985: Turkey (MFÖ - “Didai, Didai, Dai”) 1986: Belgium (Sandra Kim - ”J’aime la vie”) (même si c’est une folie!) 1987: Belgium (Liliane St. Pierre - “Soldiers of Love”) (ed.: top Five esc entry) 1988: Switzerland (Céline Dion - “Ne Partez Pas Sans Moi”) 1989: Denmark ( Birthe Kjær -  "Vi maler byen rød") 1990: Yugoslavia/Croatia (Tajci - “Hajde, da ludujemo) 1991: Sweden (Carola -  “ Fångad av en stormvind”) (ed.: top five ESC entry) 1992: Denmark (Lotte Nilsson & Kenny Lübcke - “Allting som ingen ser”) 1993: the Netherlands (Ruth Jacott - “Vrede”) 1994: Germany (MeKaDo  - “Wir geben ‘ne Party”) 1995: Cyprus (Alexandros Panayi - “Sti fotia”) 1996:  Croatia (Maja Blagdan - “Sveta ljubav”) 1997: Poland (Anne-Marie Jopek - “Ale jestem”) (ed.: Top five ESC year) 1998: the Netherlands (Edsilia Rombley - “Hemel en aarde”) (I think???? lol 😬) 1999: Croatia (Doris Dragovic - “MARIJA MAGDALENAAAAAAA”) 2000: Latvia (Brainstorm - “My Star”) (ed.: top five ESC entry) 2001: France (Natasha St. Pier - “Je n’ai que mon âme”) (but also, nobody) 2002: Spain (Rosa - “Yooropz leebin a selebrayshun”) (ed.: this trashfest <3) 2003: Germany (Lou - “Let’s get happy”) (and let’s be GAY!) 2004: Albania (Anjeza Shahini - “Image of you”) 2005: Romania (Luminita Anghel and Sistem - “Let me try”) (Ed.: top five year) 2006: Iceland (Silvia Night - “Congratulations”) (ed.: 2006 SF > 2006 GF 😬)   2007: Georgia (Sopho - “Visionary Dream”) (ed.: i have about 9 absofaves from this year though lol) 2008: Iceland (Euroband - “This is my life) 2009: Iceland (Yohanna - “Is it true?”) (ed.: top five ESC entry) 2010: Albania (Juliana Pasha - “It’s all about you”) 2011: Germany (Lena - “Taken by a stranger) (ed.: top 5 entry, bottom 5 year >_<) 2012: Sweden (Loreen - “Euphoria”) (ed.: as with ABBA Loreen wins my ranking by default because this year is mostly rubbish.) 2013: Greece (Koza Mostra - “Alcohol is free”) (ed.: personal fave ESC year :)) 2014: Slovenia (Tinkara Kovac ft. Lea Sirk - “Round and round) (ed.: top five ESC year) 2015: Latvia (Aminata - “Love Injected”)  2016: Armenia (Iveta Mukuchyan - “LoveWave) 2017: Belgium (Blanche - “City Lights”) 2018: Lithuania (Ieva Zasimauskaite - “When we’re old”) (ooooohhhhhhhh)