#it bothers be when people try to follow societal norms so much

[may3505w]

Do you shave down there and your body in general? I Also saw a few pictures of you (beautiful tits btw) and I saw you had armpit hair. I don't mind, just curious.

Tbh it changes, I trim sometimes but the short answer is no, and you know the drill if you don't like it...

The door 👉🚪

The short answer: I shave my asshole when I feel like it, I trim everywhere else every month or so, I was my eyebrows and mustache just cuz if I can't have a full mustache I'd rather have none.

The rant: I still have a weird relationship with body hair and I don't like when people fetishize it on me, but I guess I attract weird people with my personality anyway so they might as well see me as I want to be seen. I couldn't care less about gender, what's considered masculine/feminine, or what people expect me to do. I also don't care about body hair and as much as people want to claim it's a preference (for either person) there's a reason to have the preference you do.

I get liking it smooth because it's just easier and all and you'd also like a dick smooth in the same way but damn when people say it's "feminine" I don't know if to laugh or to cry.

[cattyanon]

Hello. May I ask a possibly indelicate question? If you don't want to, you don't have to answer it. I just wanted to ask you something. About autism. Don't get any ideas, but I'm writing a story right now where one of the main characters is autistic. I honestly wouldn't bother you, but there's very little information on the internet about autistic people...

Oh yeah, that's fine!

One very important thing to note is that Autism manifests in different ways from person to person. Both with the triggers and how we react to them. So this is just my experience/the best I can explain.

Speaking of explaining, that's a good place to start on examples. You see, one thing my autism does is make it hard to explain things without thinking on it first. Especially when it's on the spot. Sometimes I'll try and explain things to my mom but then fumble over my words and ask her to give me a moment while I collect my thoughts. I like to refer to it as being "wording is hard".

Another example is whenever I hear a repetitive noise. It's not bad at first but the longer it goes on the more it frusterates and drives me crazy. Like I can try to ignore it but that only works for so long before I can't take it and have to ask them to stop or walk into a different room. But the thing is while repetitive noises might annoy me, another autistic person might do it as a stim. Like tapping their foot or a table. And since I'm mentioning noise, too much noise (especially if its loud) can overstimulate me.

The reactions to said triggers can vary too. Like becoming frustrated at everything for a while, yelling at them to stop doing whatever is annoying you, extensive crying, snalping at everyone and everything, and in some cases even hurting yourself or others. When they get as extreme as the last example, that's what you call a meltdown.

So I guess having autism can be seen as someone acting out of the expected societal norm? Like if you expect someone to act one way because that's how everyone else does it (or it's expected to be how everyone else does it) but then they act a way you definitely didnt see coming.

I think a good example of "out of the societal norm" would be comfort items. If you've never heard of the term, its basically something you bring with you everywhere because it makes you feel safer and/or happy.

In fact, I once had a meltdown because my old principal took away several of my comfort items (stuffed animals in my case) out of my inside pockets (they were pretty big pockets and the stuffed animals weren't that big so the bitch was able to take multiple). And as for my reaction, I am not exaggerating at all when I say that I was going to search the ENTIRE school to find them. And while that didn't end up happening, I promise you that I was.

So whereas you might expect a teenager to just get upset and/or annoyed but except it if their stuffed animal was taken from an authority figure, I was absolutely dead set on getting them back. Although for someone else, they might just cry a lot, or maybe they'd swear a bunch, or perhaps a m.jn.vmixture. I hope this makes sense?

Honestly the whole fact theres a "societal norm" pisses me off cause it shrouds those who don't follow it as weird (derogatory) outcasts that don't fit in when in reality it's just that everyone is different. There's nothing wrong with being different, being autistic, we just are. Nobody is the same and to expect that, that everyone should fit into this societal norm, is stupid.

[vpyre]

The Geek Division

Grelle was annoyed. She generally was these days, but this time there was a tangible reason. Why on earth did she need to experience “the science side of Grim Reaper Dispatch” when they knew full well that she had no interest in academics and would rather be out learning something useful like how to collect souls? She was in Retrieval training for christ's sake. To hell with “having an understanding and appreciation for all branches of the Dispatch”. It was just pointless. Pointless and stupid and just another thing for her to suffer through. She sighed and tapped her fingers against one of the black lab tables. Beakers and vials bubbled and hissed in the back of the room, barely audible over the clamor of the new trainees as they filed in and found seats with their new friends. No one sat with her. She was left alone to sulk, not that she particularly cared. They were all the same anyway; afraid of her, unnerved by her, rude to her. She would tell them all to drop dead, but it was a bit too late for that.

When everyone had found a seat, four reapers in white lab coats made their way to the front of the room, and one of them stepped forward. As soon as the first word left his mouth, Grelle knew she'd be dying of boredom ten minutes in, if that. Pointless. What a waste of time. As her gaze settled on the view through the long window on the other side of the room, she propped her chin on her fist and twirled a strand of her short hair around her finger. I wish it was longer. To my knees even! I’d be gorgeous if I grew it out; and then maybe they would see me the way I really am. Her thoughts continued drifting wistfully, like a cardinal’s feathers in a breeze.

"Hiya."

Grelle started and whipped around so hard she almost fell out of her chair. Sitting in the previously empty seat beside her was another man in a lab coat, though he was decidedly more rumpled than the other scientists. Where their clothes and hair were tidy and their demeanor formal, his dark hair stuck out in odd places and he was slouching in his seat. When she saw the open, laid-back friendliness on his face, she felt some of her tension evaporate as her mind processed that he wasn't there to harass her like the others. But still... why is he talking to me?

"My name's Othello. What's yours, my dear new reaper?" he asked. She didn't see a single hint of negativity or ulterior motives in his face, so she replied,

"Grelle Sutcliff. From the Retrieval Division." If he was really genuine in his friendliness, she couldn't see the harm in making conversation to pass the time.

"Good to meet you! Now, what're your pronouns, Dear Grelle?"

What? She blinked, trying not to let her surprise show. No one had ever asked her that before; they all just assumed. She couldn't blame them, not really. She'd never met someone like her, never met someone who was aware of anything other than what the societal norm was. But somehow he knew. Why did he know? Reapers must really be ahead of their time, or at least this one was. He seemed to have picked up on her line of thinking when she didn't respond right away, so he continued,

"I've seen you around, so I noticed that you carry yourself a certain way and that you don't appear to like being referred to as male. I wanted to make sure I wasn't assuming anything, 'cos you seem like an interesting person to know."

It was the sincerity in his voice that stifled the last of her apprehension. She relaxed and murmured,

"I... I'm a woman. And thank you. Y'know, for asking. It isn't often that people are this considerate."

"No need to thank me, it should just be common decency. Anywho, it doesn't look like you're particularly enjoying the forensics lecture." Before she could finish stuttering out a defensive response, he waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. "Don't worry, I'm not gonna tattle on you. I'd be in the same boat if I had to visit the retrieval division, seeing as I'm physically incompetent and nothing fascinates me more than science." There were sudden rustles of movement around them as the instructors shooed everyone out of the room for a demonstration. Grelle sighed and stood up to follow,

"Well, it was nice to meet you, but-" a hand on her arm gave her pause. "What?" She turned to look at the other reaper, and he mouthed,

"Come with me!" She hesitated for a moment, deliberating. Then she shrugged. She had nothing better to do; plus he was considerate and kind, which was more than she could say for anyone else as far as she was concerned, so she nodded, relief and mischievous curiosity bubbling up and lifting her spirits. Stifling a grin, she followed him as they scurried through the lab and away from the group, quietly slipping out into the corridor.

She glanced around furtively and asked, "What are we doing?” as he tugged her onward through the stark white halls.

”Alleviating your boredom. You looked like you were about to snap and smash some of those beakers, so I thought I’d save you from the inevitable cleanup duty punishment. And like I said, you seem like an interesting person to know. Plus, I want to show you my lab. Forensics will never interest you if those stuffed shirts are the ones talking. They don’t ever say anything interesting. They all think I’m ‘eccentric’ just cos I’m not satisfied with their dull science; and I very well may be, but at least I’m not boring.” She rolled her eyes, but she couldn't deny that listening to this geek talk was infinitely more entertaining than sitting in that stuffy lab, listening to those stuffy scientists regaling her with their stuffy lecture.

His lab wasn't far, thank god. As much as she hated the Dispatch and its rules, she didn't want to get caught and written up, not when she was doing so well in her retrieval training. They stopped at a plain wooden door in the middle of the hall. It was unremarkable, but from what she could already tell about Othello himself, it was sure to be more interesting on the inside. He unlocked the door and they entered. What she saw was unexpected, but she had expected it to be unexpected, so really it wasn't all that surprising. Where the other lab was neat and orderly, equipment organized and surfaces uncluttered, his looked like a tornado had torn through it. Beakers and papers were scattered across all available tables and counters, almost completely obscuring every horizontal surface. There were science-y odds and ends everywhere. On top of that, there was a huge pile of unrecognizable mechanical parts, metal, and machinery on the floor in the back of the room (strangely enough, the floor was clean and absent of any other clutter).

"What on earth is that thing?" Grelle asked, leaning on a table and gesturing to the back of the room. She hoped he wouldn't get all technical about it; she didn't understand these sorts of things, nor did she want to, but she couldn't help feeling curious.

"It's a dynamo, a generator; or, rather, it will be. I'm still working on it. Humans probably won't have it for the next hundred years or so." He strode over to the desk near the metal thing -the generator- and started digging through the papers. Despite the mess he seemed to know exactly where to find what he needed, emerging a moment later with a diagram, which he waved around enthusiastically, excitement shining in his eyes. "It converts AC into DC using a commutator, which is a set of rotating switch contacts on the armature shaft that reverse the connection of the armature winding to the circuit with every 180 degree rotation, creating a-"

She shook her head and cut in, waving a hand, "Wait wait wait wait. I don't speak geek; mind translating that to English?"

"Essentially, it just generates energy in the form of electricity. But there's so much more to it than that! Lemme show you the diagram." He motioned her over to the desk. Pointing out parts as he spoke, he explained what each one did, how it worked, and how they fit together. When he finished rambling about the generator, he moved on to some of the other blueprints and formulas scattered throughout the room as well as some of the chemical vials sitting in their various nooks and crannies. She didn't understand a word that came out of his mouth, but his enthusiasm was contagious; though she tried to act aloof, she found herself smiling and nodding along as he spouted scientific gibberish. It was entertaining just to watch him gush about it all, and honestly kinda endearing. It certainly took her mind off of her bitter thoughts. Even with the difference in interests, she was just glad to be around someone who seemed to enjoy her company and who didn't harbor any negativity towards her. Someone who went out of his way to cheer her up. Someone who trusted her not to lash out at him. Someone who was thoughtful enough to ask about her feelings and respectful enough to listen to, then act on her answer.

Still, she wondered. "Why did you come talk to me, y'know, back in the other lab? Most reapers would rather avoid me."

He shrugged and put down his test tube. "You just seemed lonely. Not only at that moment, but almost every time I saw you around. To other reapers, your loneliness and hurt might come across as anger, but that's just 'cos they don't bother trying to understand you. Honestly! You'd think they'd have no trouble understanding on some level; after all, we all got here the same way, but some people just don't seem to have it in them to be sympathetic anymore. I make a point of doing things others are afraid of doing, which too often includes being a decent person. On top of that, you're just a very interesting woman, and I like interesting people. Besides, you're really tough and I'm physically weak, so if I stick with you no one will dare mess with me, ha ha!"

Grelle rolled her eyes, but she chuckled a bit all the same. Truth be told, she genuinely appreciated this reaper, someone she had just met, for speaking so openly and kindly. He certainly was eccentric, but he made that a good thing. He continued on as if nothing had happened, and she relaxed in the casually comfortable atmosphere.

All too soon, she heard the trainee crowd walk past Othello's lab, instructors herding them back from the forensics tour. To her surprise, she found that she wanted to stay and simply listen to Othello rave about his beloved science, even though it just went in one ear and out the other for her. She turned to bid him farewell.

"I'm going to head back before I get us in trouble. It was a pleasure to meet you, even if you are a huge geek. And just... thank you. For going out of your way to make me feel more welcome. I may not like or understand science, but if you have to talk about that sort of thing, I suppose I'll humor you and listen."

He smiled a bit and shrugged. "Anytime. And I guess it's too much to hope that I've piqued your interest in forensics?"

"Yes. I'll leave that to you geeks." She shook her head in mock exasperation, but as she walked away, she smiled. Just a bit.

[hobiorbit]

sugar sugar, honey honey (m.)

pairing: min yoongi x reader, kim taehyung x reader, min yoongi x kim taehyung warnings: threesomes, dirty talk, abo dynamics, knotting, impregnation kink? summary: in which omega/omega relationships are looked down upon, and taehyung is happy to take care of both you and your boyfriend.

Two omegas are not supposed to love each other.

This kind of love goes against not only all biological norms, but societal norms as well. Omega-omega couples are looked down upon an disapproved of.

In spite of all of this, you did not care. And neither did your omegan boyfriend, Yoongi. Being in a relationship with another was hard, with the constant backlash you got, but you wouldn’t have it any other way

Even now, sitting next to your boyfriend in the lecture hall with alphas and betas alike sending you looks of discomfort of disgust, you felt happy. Happy from just being so close to him, feeling entirely safe.

“That’ll be all for today. Remember that your papers are due next Tuesday, everyone.” Your professor said suddenly, sitting down at his desk and paying no mind to the students now exiting the hall. You and Yoongi got up hastily, trying to leave the room as soon as you could to avoid trouble.

He shoved his laptop into his bag and grabbed your hand, weaving the both of you through multiple seats as you got closer to the door. You were about to walk out when a alpha behind you made a crude comment, his alpha friends giggling with him.

“If you ever need a heat partner, I’m here. Omegan dudes aren’t meant for fucking, they’re supposed to be fucked. Didn’t you know that, princess?” He said, his scent clouding your senses as your face morphed into disgust. Yoongi grunted in anger, and you knew he was getting ready to pick a fight.

“Let’s just go.” You whispered softly, leaning closer to him as he took a deep breath, calming down before nodding. He didn’t speak as you quickly walked away, and you knew that not only was Yoongi angry, but insecure as well.

When you finally got to the courtyard, you allowed yourself to breathe in the scent of nature. Immediately, you could feel relaxation seep through your veins. “Yoonie,” You sighed, pouting at him. His gaze was still hard, and you knew he was battling his emotions internally.

“What, sweetheart?” He asked you, trying to keep the usual calm and soft voice he used when talking to you, but you could hear the gruff undertone caused by his anger. Yoongi wasn’t like most omegas, and it was easy to see. His behavior easily reflected that of a beta or even an alpha, and sometimes you’d even forget about his status until his heat came around.

“Don’t listen to them…” You softly responded, clenching his hand in your usual genuine fashion. Your words made a soft smile appear on his lips as he turned to look at you, admiring every single one of your features.

He leaned down to press a soft kiss onto your lips, one that had you deflating and sighing into him. Yoongi never failed to take your breath away, and even though you weren’t a fan of the attention you got from the PDA, you still allowed him to do it every time.

“You’re so cute.” He told you as he detached himself from your lips, smirking at your shy face. Covering your face with your free hand, you allowed him to walk you in the direction of your apartment.

Little did you know, an infatuated alpha had watched your display, and he walked away wondering why his heart was beating so fast.

-

“Those knotheads have no idea how to treat an omega. I can fuck you better than they could ever dream of.” Yoongi whispered into the heat of your neck, licking over your scent gland and nibbling at it, causing you to keen and buck your hips up into him.

“Isn’t that right, baby? Your omega boyfriend makes you feel better than any alpha, right?” Yoongi asked you, lifting your shirt up your chest and pulling your bra down to tend to your nipples. You whimpered shyly, and nodded. He leaned down to nip at you, causing you to jolt in surprise.

“Answer with your words, Y/N.” Yoongi reprimanded you. “Yes Yoongi, you do it better. Always do.” You mewled, putting a hand over your mouth as he continued his assault on your nipples, lathering them with his tongue as your whole continued to become wet with slick, filling the room with the scent of your arousal. Yoongi loved it.

“Please, Yoonie,” You whined, showing him your neck as you writhed below him. Your words set a fire in the other omega’s stomach, filling him with the need to fill you up and take care of you.

He leaned down to scent at your neck. In these moments his omegan nature showed completely, the need for closeness and genuine love peeking out through his special actions. You moved your head upward, baring yourself to him as he scented you, kissing and licking at your neck.

“You’ve got it, baby.” Yoongi muttered when he thought you smelled enough like his soft scent of linen and cloves. You opened your thighs to him, exposing your heat, feeling far too gone to even feel a bit shy. Yoongi loved teasing you to that point, loved to see you unabashedly giving into the throes of pleasure he was willing to give to you.

Yoongi leaned down, flattening his tongue over your wet cunt and flicking the tip of his tongue over your clit. You keened, bucking your hips up into his touch as a way of begging for more. He smiled at you from your mound, almond eyes narrowing into slits as he continued his abrasive assault on your pussy. He tongued at you, never fully giving you what you wanted, enjoying the way you writhed around while trying to get as much pleasure he would lend you.

“Yoonie- please, oh god, fill me up.” You whined, tears flooding your eyes. Yoongi shushed you, taking a hand and sliding it down the side of your body in a gesture of comfort. Nonetheless, he got onto his knees, pulling down at his boxers, allowing his erection to spring free.

While his stature definitely was not very alpha like, Yoongi never failed to satisfy you. Never in your life had you found yourself wishing for something Yoongi didn’t have. Even in moments like these, where some people were convinced only an alpha could excel, Yoongi managed to take stereotypes and stomp on them.

He sheathed himself inside you quickly and harshly, knocking the air from from your lungs. Your mouth opened as short, quick moans left your lips, in time with Yoongi’s quick thrusts. On days he managed to tease you the most he tended to lose a bit of control, fucking you fast and hard.

You could never complain, managing to take it as sounds of pleasure fell from your lips, head tossed back as he continued his assault. Yoongi was grunting, bending over your body and mouthing at your neck as he fucked you.

“So fucking good for me. You’re so beautiful, I love you.” Yoongi moaned into your ear, bringing a hand down to rub at your clit as he tried to get you closer to your release. Your arms were wrapped around his shoulders, legs spread wide to accommodate the body in between them.

“I love you, Yoonie,” You whimpered into his ear, panting as you felt yourself reaching your high. You clenched around his cock erratically, whimpering as you came. Yoongi grunted in your ear, following along not too far behind you. When you’d both ridden out your highs, Yoongi rolled you over, pressing his face into your neck and wrapping his arms tightly around your body.

Even in your tired, sex induced haze, you pat your boyfriend’s head and ran your fingers through his hair. “Don’t listen to those alphas… You do everything they can do and more.” You whispered, knowing exactly what was on his mind. Yoongi nosed at your neck, drinking your scent in. “I know, sweetheart. Just wish I could protect you and myself the way some of them can. It’s okay, we make it work.” Yoongi assured you, closing his eyes as he allowed himself to bask in your presence, already on his way to sleep.

You didn’t bother saying anything else, knowing that even though you hated it, Yoongi was right. Other people’s opinions and societal stigmas were always going to plague your relationship- and that was alright. You loved Yoongi, and he loved you.

-

“Are you okay? You look pale.” Jungkook asked Taehyung. Taehyung looked at the other, effectively having forgotten his daydream. He nodded, thought Jungkook could tell Taehyung was thinking about something pretty concerning.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Taehyung sighed, throwing his head back on his old, plush couch. Jungkook stared him down from his spot on their recliner, his unofficial-official claimed spot in their shared apartment. “You’re a horrible liar.” The younger stated. Taehyung rolled his eyes. “Yeah? And you’re noisy.” He rubuttled. Jungkook pouted.

“What’s so troubling to you that you can’t even tell your dear old roommate? I won’t judge.” Jungkook stated, shrugging his shoulders. Taehyung contemplated his words for a moment, before speaking slowly.

“What do you think about two omegas in a relationship?” Taehyung asked. The question seemed to catch the beta off guard, as his eyes widened and he coughed.

“I’m not one to judge other people’s preferences. I’m sure it’d be tough and all, considering everyone’s opinions on omegas. It’d probably just get worse if they were in a relationship together. Why?” Jungkook asked the alpha. Taehyung shrugged.

“I just… Saw two omegas kiss today. N-not that I was spying or anything! It just struck me as odd. I know omegan relationships existed, I’ve just never seen any.” taehyung explained, clasping his hands together.

Jungkook observed his friend, a sly smile on his face. “Is Taehyungie getting greedy, wanting two alphas? Leave some for the betas. It’s hard enough to score anyone as it is.” Jungkook complained, though his words were all in good fun. Taehyung scoffed at the younger’s notion. He’d barely seen you or Yoongi- there was no way he had a crush on either of you. Just wanted you guys to be safe, like any decent alpha.

“Whatever. I don’t even know their names, never even seen ‘em before. I just… thought about how hard it’d be to be in a relationship like that.” Taehyung said. Jungkook nodded in understanding. “Yeah, I’d be worried too. I hope they have an alpha friend or something- to keep an eye on them.” Jungkook states. Taehyung nodded absentmindedly, hoping the best for the two omegas he’d seen in passing.

“Hey, now that you brought it up, I think I know who you’re talking about. Well, at least one person. His name’s Min Yoongi, and he’s a junior I think. He’s an omega and he’s dating a girl in my grade- Her name’s Y/N, I think.” Jungkook said thoughtfully, gnawing on his bottom lip.

Taehyung’s eyes lit up at the aspect of receiving new information. “Really? How do you know them?” Taehyung asked, tilting his head to the side in confusion. Jungkook laughed shyly. “Saying I know either of them is a longshot. Yoongi is friends with Namjoon hyung. I’ve heard of Y/N cause she’s in my grade, but apparently she’s pretty shy so ‘s hard to get to know her.” Jungkook explained. Your shy face flashed through Taehyung’s mind, your wide eyes looking up at Yoongi after he’d stolen a kiss from you. Shy was definitely a word that could describe you.

Yoongi, however- if it weren’t for his scent, Taehyung would’ve mistaken him for a beta. Maybe even an alpha. But his softer omegan scent and pheromones were definitely his downfall, outing his status to anyone who could smell him. That didn’t make him any less threatening, that was for sure.

“It’s hard to believe that guy’s an omega. He’s scary.” Taehyung said matter of factly. Jungkook snorted. “Yeah, I guess you could say that. Namjoon hyung likes him, so he can’t be that bad. Probably just a bit standoffish or whatever, but nice when you get to know ‘im.” Jungkook thought aloud.

-

It was very rare that Yoongi didn’t make full recovery after being taunted by some alphas. It would usually take him a day- two at most. And yet here he was, a full week later, sulking over the offhanded comments alphas had made to you.

Of course, Yoongi didn’t mention it, but due to your nature you had no problems picking up on his discomfort.

It made you sad that no matter what you said or did, you couldn’t seem to get him to shake off whatever thoughts were clouding his head. Before, you were convinced that Yoongi knew he was all you could ever need. Now, you weren’t so sure. It hurt that you hadn’t made him secure in his position as your boyfriend.

As you walked to your lecture together, you held his hand extra tightly, and walked closer to him that usual. You could tell he was inhaling your scent diligently, something that didn’t come as a surprise. Yoongi had always used you as his little stress reliever, not that you ever minded. You took pride in the fact that just your scent alone could calm the other omega down.

You kept looking at him from the corner of your eye, peeking up to see his face, only to see his usual frown he tended to unknowingly wear in public. Some would say it made him quite unapproachable, and you just found it absolutely adorable, with his plush lips pouting outward- making you want to give him a kiss. Not that you would. Public affection had never been your thing.

So you two walked in silence as you occupied yourself with observing your school’s courtyard. Spring had finally began to throttle fully, and trees along with other plants had fully bloomed.

Your lecture hall had been unusually full considering the time you arrived. You and Yoongi tended to arrive the same time every day, wanting to get your usual seats. However, it seemed like multiple other people had the same idea- and as much as you were perturbed by it, your usual seats had been taken.

Not only that, but there weren’t any spots with two seats open for you and your boyfriend. You frowned at the sight in front of you, searching frantically for a place that you and Yoongi could sit down. Yoongi squeezed your hand, sensing your distress. He pointed at an open seat.

“Go sit there, baby. I’ll sit in the one behind you so I can keep an eye on you.” Yoongi murmured into your ear, not looking at your face because he knew you were pouting. He wasn’t happy with how the day unfolded either, but he figured this would be the best bet. You sighed but nodded, timidly gripping your shoulder straps and walking over to the seat.

On your right was a beta girl, seemingly nice enough. She hadn’t bothered to greet you but she’d sent you a smile in passing before turning to speak with her omegan friend.

On your right was something you were much more worried about. He was an alpha, no doubt, his scent of sandalwood almost stuffing your nose as if it were tangible. He had shaggy, ash blonde hair and wore a delicate, long earring accompanied with what looked to be a comfortable but fashionable outfit.

You sat down, looking over your shoulder at Yoongi only for him to nod at you. His seat seemed far less alarming. From the looks of it he sat between two betas, both of which who looked to be extremely kind. Turning back around, you accidentally locked eyes with the alpha beside you.

His gaze was not cold, but it was sharp. Not in a purposefully intimidating way, but in a way that made him seem like all of his attention was on you- like it had been for a while. It made your heart beat faster and for some reason you didn’t look away, almost frozen in place until he spoke to you, breaking you out of your trance.

“Hello. I haven’t seen you in here before. My name’s Taehyung.” He spoke easily. His voice was smooth and low, almost rumbling through your ears as you received every word. You mulled over each of the syllables he spoke in your head, almost encoding them delicately within your mind, having no intentions of forgetting the way he sounded.

“Hi… I uh, I usually don’t sit here, it’s just… Everyone seemed to get here a little earlier today, I guess,” You mumbled, laughing softly in embarrassment. You could feel your hands warming, a sign of how flustered you were becoming from the alpha beside you. Never had someone of his status had such an effect on you. You usually tended to stay away from alphas due to their somewhat genetically predisposed abrasive natures, something you couldn’t say you were too fond of.

“But it’s nice to meet you, um, Taehyung. I’m Y/N.” You spoke finally. Part of you wanted to mention Yoongi, behind you, but you felt it would’ve made the conversation awkward even though you could feel his gaze burning into you. It made you sweat.

Taehyung gave you a gentle, almost seductive smile. Everything about him seemed to be sensual. From the way he looked to the way he spoke to the way he moved, everything was slow and steady but so very encapsulating. If it weren’t for your professor signalling class was beginning, you might’ve tried to speak with him all day.

Throughout your lecture, Taehyung had given you small tips on how to write your notes, as well as drawing funny things and giving you small messages on the pad of sticky notes he’d brought along with them. You received his attention easily, allowing yourself small giggles here and there to show your appreciation for his actions.

Yoongi watched you from behind the entire time, the teacher’s words proving to be nothing but background noise for his feelings of jealousy and anger. Who was this alpha all over you? It was clear you’d never met before, and yet here he was, all over you, as if you didn’t already have a boyfriend.

Except, for all the alpha knew, you didn’t have a boyfriend. Just a close, omegan friend- because who in their right mind would automatically assume that an omega was taken by another omega? This only fuelled Yoongi’s feelings of inferiority that had been blooming ever since the week before.

What made things worse was how Yoongi could see you were clearly enjoying the alpha, paying no mind to his flirtatious or overly friendly nature. Either you didn’t notice it, or you took it in stride. Yoongi just hoped you were oblivious.

When class was finally over, Yoongi sighed a breath of relief. He weaved his way out of the table he was sitting at, avoiding the overly friendly beta that had been sitting next to him. Yoongi’s eyes were on you, travelling down and over to where you stood, still in the alpha’s clutches. Not that you really seemed to mind, you were listening to him intently.

“Are you ready?” Yoongi said, tone much colder than he intended. The alpha in front of you looked up in surprise, before an enthusiastic smile overtook his lips. “You must be Yoongi! Good to meet you, man.” Taehyung said thoughtfully, thrusting his hand out toward Yoongi for your boyfriend to shake. Yoongi stared at it for a moment before awkwardly taking it, shaking it slowly. You tried not to giggle at the other omega’s actions.

“Nice to meet you, uh…” Yoongi paused, waiting for Taehyung to tell him his name. Taehyung nodded and retracted his hand. “Taehyung. Y/N here was telling me all about you, you know. My friends and I are actually heading out to lunch after this, did you two want to come?” Yoongi’s eyes widened, wondering just how friendly this guy could get. Just about all the students had filtered out of the lecture hall now, leaving just your tiny group along with a couple other people.

Yoongi saw you begin to nod, but he decided he’d need a bit more information before going to lunch with an unknown alpha- who most likely had unknown alpha friends.

“Who’re your friends?” Yoongi inquired. Taehyung hummed, and if he was offended by Yoongi’s words he didn’t show it. “Ah, this guy named Namjoon, another guy named Hoseok, his friend Jin, my roommate Jungkook… And I think my friend Jimin might be able to make it too.” Taehyung said happily. Your eyes widened at the mention of Jungkook, a friendly beta in your year. You’d hardly ever talked to him but if you did, you were sure you would’ve been best of friends by now.

“I know Jungkook.” you piped up, looking to Yoongi more than anything, hoping that he would at least find solace in the fact that you wouldn’t be surrounded by complete strangers. Taehyung cocked his head to the side and smiled. “So you’re in the same grade as him! Kookie is great, he can just be a lot sometimes. Loves to annoy his hyungs.” Taehyung said, an appreciative smile on his face.

“I haven’t seen Namjoon in a while. I guess we can go.” Yoongi relented, hoping he wouldn’t regret this decision. How could he say no to you, when you were clearly excited to go? Your shy nature had definitely inhibited you in multiple ways, so whenever someone actually invited you out it was like a godsend. Yoongi refused to ruin that for you because he was jealous- and insecure.

Taehyung clapped his hands and bounced on his feet, clearly showing his excitement. “Really? Great! I’m sure my friends will love you guys. Do you just want to ride with me or did you plan on driving yourself? I can always text the address.” Taehyung said.

You looked to the floor sheepishly. “Neither Yoongi or I drive, so… We’d really appreciate it if you wanted to give us a ride.” You spoke, feeling yourself heat up about having to admit that you didn’t drive. It was scary!

“No problem at all! I’d love to drive you guys. We’re sorta meeting soon so… Wanna go?” Taehyung asked with wide eyes, jabbing his thumb over his shoulder to signal to the door. You and Yoongi nodded, you a bit more excitedly than the latter.

Yoongi had taken it upon himself to call shotgun on the way to the restaurant. You really didn’t have any problems with it, opting to lean back and stare out the window while you let Taehyung’s phenomenal taste in music flood your ears. In that moment, you decided life was good.

Taehyung ended parking at a local ramen shop, claiming they had the best food and service he’d ever received. You hardly registered his words, already excited for some good, warm food with your boyfriend and your new friend. Yoongi grabbed your hand as soon as you got out of the car, leading you into the restaurant behind Taehyung.

It seemed like his friends were already there, sitting at a large table in the corner with three open seats for the missing guests. You followed everyone older, sitting between Yoongi and a very smiley man. Only when you were given your menus did Yoongi let go of your hand.

“What’s your name, cutie? I’m Hoseok.” The smiley man, who you now identified as an alpha, said from next to you. You smiled shyly, eyes widening at the nickname he used for you. Yoongi sucked some air in through his teeth before looking around to see if anyone had caught his display of irritation. If they did, they didn’t show it.

“Nice to meet you, Hoseok… I’m Y/N and this is Yoongi.” You introduced yourself and Yoongi next to you, who leaned over to make eye contact with Hoseok. Hoseok hardly seemed threatened by Yoongi’s face, leaning forward to get closer to him, effectively coming in contact with you.

“Hi Yoongi, nice to meet ya!” Hoseok said, closing his eyes and giving Yoongi a wide smile. Yoongi nodded stiffly. “Ditto.” He nodded, turning toward Taehyung who was on his right, cringing at his friend’s behavior.

“Hoseok is a bit out of the lines, if you will. He means no harm, I promise. He just likes everyone.” Taehyung whispered to Yoongi, breath fanning across Yoongi’s lips due to how close the alpha was. He smelled like mint. The omega realized he didn’t mind if the alpha decided to get even closer, and when the realization hit him he leaned back. “It’s all good. It’s pretty obvious he doesn’t anything by it.” Yoongi said coolly.

Taehyung faltered for a moment, peeking at Yoongi’s lips before licking at his own and turning away. Yoongi felt appalled for a moment, letting his hand search for your thigh under the table for comfort.

You looked at him in curiosity. He refused to meet your gaze even though he knew you were looking.

The man across from you caught your gaze, smiling. Despite his somewhat omegan appearance- fluffy hair, puffy lips, kind eyes- he was by all means an alpha. You wondered just how many alpha friends Taehyung had. You knew Omegas were the least common group in society- but even then, it was rare to not know even a couple.

“Hi, Y/N. I’m Jimin. Taehyungie makes friends everywhere he goes, doesn’t he? So, what’s your major?” The man, Jimin, asked kindly. You laughed at his statement- wondering just how many times Taehyung had quickly made friends only to bring them into different outings he already had with the current group. Even though you barely knew him, it seemed very plausible.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you. I currently don’t have a decided major, mostly just floating around and testing the waters. I’m a fan of the arts, though! Space is cool too- Yoongi and I met Taehyung in our astronomy class.” You nodded your head to the omega beside you and the alpha beside him. Jimin tilted his head thoughtfully, sending a sly smile to Yoongi, who had been observing Taehyung’s side profile. Your boyfriend puffed his cheeks out in embarrassment and mild annoyance.

“Astrology, huh? You like it?” The beta beside Jimin- Jungkook, as you knew- asked both you and Yoongi. You gave a shrug and a smile. “It’s definitely interesting sometimes. Although, it does bring out some existential crises.” Jungkook laughed at your statement, nodding. “That’s exactly why I didn’t take the class!” He exclaimed. You nodded, leaning into Yoongi.

“It’s not so bad once you get over it. Becomes sorta normal.” Yoongi said, trying to put both of you at ease. He’d witnessed you have minor freak outs in class whenever your professor said something particularly alarming more than enough times.

“How’s music theory going, Yoongi?” A man with glasses on the other side of Jimin asked your boyfriend. You cocked your head to the side in confusion before piecing together that this must be Namjoon, the man Yoongi had known prior.

A deep sigh left the other omega’s lips at the reminder of his class. “I love it, I really do. It’s just a lot of work. A devastating amount.” Yoongi said, nodding along with his own words. Namjoon hummed. “I hear you. The information is great, everything else is a complete drag.” Namjoon said in agreement.

Yoongi was about to respond when the waitress came over, a pretty beta girl. Jungkook shied away from where she stood between he and Jimin, even though she hadn’t even glanced at him.

“I come bearing gifts!” She joked, signalling to the tray of food she’d brought along with her. She busied herself with setting down the multitude of bowls down in front of everyone, sweetly asking if anyone needed anything else before strutting away.

“Geeze, Jungkook, make yourself more obvious why don’t you.” The oldest, Jin, piped up after seeing Jungkook watch the waitress’ every step until she was out of sight. The younger flushed a rosy color, eyes darting to you in panic. You offered him a nice smile as a way to calm him down.

“Sh-shut up, hyung! Don’t embarrass me like that!” Jungkook said indignantly, bringing his mouth down to stuff it full of noddles as a way to avoid any more conversation. Jin laughed and shook his head, eating his own food.

-

“Thank you guys for coming with me. I know it was short notice and all, but I hope you had as much fun as I did.” Taehyung said warmly as all three of you walked back to his car. You smiled happily, as Yoongi nodded.

“I had a lot of fun. Thanks for inviting us out, Taehyung.” You said politely. “Likewise. I’m usually not a fan of last second stuff like that but… It was nice.” Yoongi admitted. You smiled, wanting to kiss his puffy cheeks. Usually, you didn’t go so long without some sort of affection, but due to your last minute lunch things didn’t advance as they usually did.

Taehyung turned back to you, smiling so widely his mouth took shape of a rectangle. “I’m glad to hear it! You know, I’d love to hang out again sometime. Maybe study for astronomy together, or just go out for lunch again. Only if you guys want to, though.” Taehyung said, scratching at the back of his neck.

You almost agreed immediately, but faltered, looking up at Yoongi. He bit his lip and stared down at you, before releasing air through his nostrils and nodding. “I don’t see why not.” Yoongi said nonchalantly. Taehyung clapped his hands, dropping himself into the driver’s seat of his car as he waited for the two of you to get in. He dug around in his pocket and thrust out his phone to you.

“Why don’t you put your number in then? You can do both, or one. Just so I can get ahold of you guys.” Taehyung offered. Yoongi caught how Taehyung hadn’t given his phone to him, despite him being the one sat in the front seat. You fiddled around with Taehyung’s phone for a second before unlocking it and inputting your number, your contact name identifiable by the cute emojis you’d put beside it. Then you worked on putting Yoongi’s in before setting it on the center console, not wanting to bother Taehyung while he was driving.

“All done.” You said cutely, fiddling with the hem of the skirt that laid against your legs. Yoongi smiled at your mannerisms, the image of your face enough to make him happy. Taehyung didn’t miss this, happy that he was able to see at least one genuine smile from Yoongi that day. He definitely did have a hard exterior, but he wasn’t bad at all. Just shy in a different way.

“Do you guys live on or off campus? Just so I know where to drop you off.” Taehyung piped up.

“We live in an apartment off campus.” Yoongi answered, rambling off your shared address as Taehyung tweaked his route accordingly. With the soft purr of Taehyung’s engine accompanied by the food in your stomach, you quickly found your eyelids getting heavy. Silently, you hoped you’d get home soon so you didn’t have to face the embarrassment of falling asleep in Taehyung’s car.

Unfortunately, hope isn’t necessarily enough sometimes. Because the next thing you knew, you were waking up in Taehyung’s arms as he carried you with ease while Yoongi led him to your apartment door.

Sensing your change in state, Taehyung looked down at you and smiled fondly.

“What’s up, sleepyhead?” He asked you cutely, causing Yoongi to look back at the scene with wide eyes. You were very obviously still trying to wake up, blinking the sleep away and yawning in Taehyung’s arms. “Hi.” You said in a cute, small voice as you rubbed at your eyes, causing Taehyung to coo at you. He couldn’t help it, you were absolutely adorable.

“Erm, thanks for carrying her. She can get super tired sometimes.” Yoongi broke the small moment the two of you were having, feeling negativity crawling up his spine. There was no doubt Taehyung could smell Yoongi’s change in scent, getting the idea. He followed after Yoongi into your shared apartment, taking in the space as Yoongi led him to the couch, where he sat you down.

The place was very obviously your own, even if he hadn’t known you for very long. From looks alone everything reflected both of your personalities, colors and decorations suiting to both of your tastes. Not only this, but both scents were thick and palpable, making Taehyung lick his lips. Surely, other alphas were jealous of your relationship- two no doubt sought after omegas taking each other into their arms. As empowering as it was, it also made Taehyung wonder if he’d ever get a chance to be with someone as cool as either of you.

“I’ll see you guys later. Text me, alright? I had a fun time today.” Taehyung smiled widely, making eye contact with both you and Yoongi before seeing himself out. Yoongi observed as you stared after the alpha, eyes glazed over as you lost yourself in your thoughts.

Yoongi felt as if a weight was lifted from his shoulders as he left. He’d experienced too many emotions and now he would sit and contemplate them, probably with you to see it and intervene.

Flopping onto the opposite, shorter couch, he stared at the ceiling while you stared at him. “How are you feeling?” You asked softly, yawning into the throw pillow you’d grabbed onto. His gaze shifted to yours, offering a small smile.

“Okay.” he said simply, causing you to raise your eyebrows in response- a silent way of saying you didn’t believe him. He huffed some laughter out of his nose in response. “I don’t think you’re being truthful.” You said softly, eyelashes touching the highest parts of your cheeks as your eyes fluttered open and shut.

Yoongi scoffed playfully. “Of course you don’t,” He paused. “I’m just thinking.” Yoongi sighed. “About what?” You countered almost immediately.

“About Taehyung.” Yoongi said, more resigned this time. You smiled. “Yeah, he’s nice isn’t he?” You said innocently, causing insecurity and jealousy to flare up in your boyfriend’s stomach. “More than nice.” He muttered, tearing his gaze away from you so he could glare at the ceiling instead of your pretty face.

You hummed in question. “What do you mean?” You asked, wanting him to explain. Usually, whenever Yoongi tended to have issues you were forced to pry everything out of him in order to get to the root of the problem. Very rarely did you ever go to far, Yoongi only yelling at you twice in his entire life over you trying to help him out. While it scared you and made you cry, he immediately comforted you and told you how sorry he was- that he’d tell you things, it was just a matter of time.

“He’s pretty much courting you right in front of me, you know. I know you probably didn’t notice, but he’s insanely interested in you. It’s sort of a dick move on his part.” Yoongi said simply, trying not to sound as affected as he really was. Your eyebrows creased together in worry and confusion.

“Yoonie, what’re you talking about? He’s just nice. I think he treated you and I pretty much the same… I think he just caught onto your annoyance and tried to back off a little, that’s all.” You offered, hoping Yoongi would reason with what you said. Sure, Taehyung was somewhat affectionate, but that seemed to just be his disposition. It didn’t seem like the way he treated you was out of the ordinary, especially when you saw him interact with his friends.

Yoongi bit at his lip, chewing it between his teeth as he tried to gather what he was going to say next. He felt himself getting worked up, now doubt about it- his chest was growing tight and his breathing was coming closer together.

“I don’t think so, Y/N. I think he’s interested in you. I hate to admit it, but the thought of that is kind of scary- knowing a perfectly capable and friendly alpha is dangled right in front of you, offering you everything that I can and more- I couldn’t even be mad if you chose him somewhere along the line.” Yoongi admitted, causing you to gasp in horror. Hurriedly, you scrambled over to him and kneeled on the ground beside him, interlocking your hands with his. His words did hurt you a bit, but this wasn’t about you.

“Yoonie, I need you to know that I like him as a friend- and that’s all. I’d never leave you for him, ever! Alpha or not, he’s not what I need. You are.” You told him with big eyes, searching his own.

“But he is what you need, Y/N. I always say that I can give you everything you need but it’s just not true. I can’t protect you like an alpha could, I can’t give you social comfort like an alpha could- for fuck’s sake, your heat’s coming up and it hurts so fucking bad that no matter how hard I try I can’t satisfy you the way you need to be.” Yoongi poured his heart out to you, eyes glistening with emotion as your own tears began to make their way down your cheeks. You shook your head at his words.

“Don’t say that about yourself…” You whined. “So what if you’re not an alpha? My heat, and other people’s opinions will not affect my feelings about you. A heat is only for a couple of days, and I’m going to love you for forever.” You said with finality, a hard gaze in your eyes. Yoongi felt his heart flutter and squeeze at your words, filling him with chills as he realized just how much he loved you.

“I love you so much, baby.” He said softly, leaning over to smooth your hair down and cover his lips with your own. You sighed, happy to finally get some affection from him after being out the entire day.

“I love you too, Yoonie… Don’t forget that.” You said, scooting backward before standing up. “As much as I’d love to get to sleep already, we have some homework to do. Come on, sleepyhead!” You giggled, eyes closing with a wide smile as you sauntered over to where you’d set your backpacks down.

Despite the unexcited groan that left his lips, he followed suit.

-

Yoongi thought his jealous phase was over after you’d declared your love for him. Everything was fine for the next couple of days, until both of you returned back to astronomy class and he realized that Taehyung had the potential to become a constant for the both of you.

And become a constant he did. Over the course of a couple of weeks he’d been over to your apartment multiple times, whether it was for having dinner, studying, or even just having a movie night. Taehyung would be there, and his favorite spot was in the middle of the two of you.

He was a nice guy. Yoongi had loosened up around him, concluding that maybe you were right about a couple things, and that he wasn’t out to steal you- at least not outright. As Yoongi became less hostile Taehyung talked to him more, and became equally as affectionate with him as he was with you. A nuzzle in the neck was not uncommon, despite the embarrassment yet shy appreciation both you and Yoongi would display in response.

However, tensions were running high currently, and that was because of what time it was. Your heat was coming up and fast, hormones and pheromones being produced in excess and having a noticeable effect on your scent.

Usually, you smelled heavenly. When your heat was coming up you smelled like heaven with a dash of sin, completely obscured by your innocence and confusing both Yoongi and anyone else around you.

“Yoonie,” You whimpered, digging into his side and wiggling your hips, basking yourself in his scent unabashedly even though Taehyung was right behind you. Yoongi couldn’t help but notice the way the other man’s gaze went to your ass before darting away. Your boyfriend couldn’t even be mad, with the way you were practically put on a platter for him.

“Sweetheart, calm down.” Yoongi told you quietly, slight alarm in his gaze at your behavior. Your heats had a tendency to be a bit irregular, never quite falling on the same day which left him floundering when they finally hit. It was obvious that this one would be a bit earlier than they usually were.

You pouted and whined quietly at his words, but settled for flopping on the couch in between them. Yoongi settled his hand on your thigh like he usually did, grabbing for the remote and starting the movie you’d chosen for them.

Somewhere along the progression of the film your head found its way onto Taehyung’s shoulder. He tried not to say anything or shake you off in fear of you getting the wrong message, but the alpha could feel Yoongi’s firey gaze on him, and it made him restless. And… Slightly turned on. The other omega could be mean and fiesty, a stark contrast to your happy innocence.

And even though you laying your head on his shoulder wasn’t that big of a deal, Taehyung thought about how he didn’t want it to end. Over the past couple of weeks he’d spent knowing the two of you, he found himself getting more and more enamored, wanting nothing more than to be an addition to your already loving relationship. To fill in the holes proposed by both of you being omegas, wanting to save you from the harsh backlash the two of you could get sometimes.

He’d witnessed it before, and every single time he shut it down without a thought about it. Whether it be omegas who were disgusted with the two of you for not conforming to societal norms to alphas saying you weren’t good enough to each other, or even betas being angry that omegas were taken by each other instead of by them.

And as Taehyung had continued to know both of you, he realized that all of these issues shared a common route of jealousy and entitlement. Omegas who were in relationships with alphas and betas felt like they were better than you for playing up to their societal role, betas looked down on you for not fitting into your own societal role, alphas felt like they were supposed to have you and both of you being in a relationship seemed to be a smack in the face.

Taehyung had vowed to himself that he wouldn’t display the same behaviors as everyone else. You two deserved more than that, deserved a friend who would treat you like equals. However, it became increasingly hard with his growing feelings toward the both of you, not that he’d admit it in a million years. Jungkook had figured it out quite easily, much to Taehyung’s chagrin.

“Why don’t you just ask them out?” Jungkook asked easily, sipping on a juice pouch he insisted they got at the store. Taehyung rolled his eyes in exasperation.

“You really don’t get it, Kookie. They’re in a happy and loving relationship, there’s no way I could try and come into that- they’re not actively looking for anyone else, so it’s not my place. Furthermore, Y/N’s told me Yoongi’s insecure, especially when it comes to alphas. I’m pretty sure I make him uncomfortable enough already even as a friend.” Taehyung sighed, pouting. He wasn’t stupid, he knew that even if Yoongi liked him, he was still uncomfortable with him. If only the male omega knew that Taehyung liked him just as much as he liked you.

“Maybe they’re not looking because the right alpha hasn’t come around yet. You’re aware of how badly they can get treated for their relationship, they’re probably not looking for anyone to add because of the backlash. But you’re different, hyung. You’re not in it to have a harem, or double the honeys. You like them for who they are and you want to protect them. What’s so wrong with that?” Jungkook countered, leaving Taehyung speechless for a second. The brat really was wise beyond his years sometimes, even if he was sometimes nauseating.

And as Taehyung tried to find a counterclaim, he realized he couldn’t. There wasn’t anything wrong with loving you and Yoongi, with wanting to protect the both of you with all he had. There’s nothing wrong with loving anyone.

Jungkook smirked at Taehyung’s expression. “Got you, didn’t I? You know I’m right-,” Taehyung gave him a stern glare. “- Anyway, you don’t have to listen to me. If you’re content sitting on the sidelines and being their friend, I’ve got no problems with it. But I know you want more, so why not try to get it? It’s your life, hyungie.” Jungkook said, punctuating the end of his speech with a long drink from his now empty juice box.

“God, I really do hate it when you’re right. I’ll think about it. We’re supposed to go out for lunch on Friday, so that give me a couple of days to clear my head.” Taehyung said aloud, mostly to himself than to Jungkook. The beta shot him a thumbs up before going to grab his shoes, claiming that due to Taehyung’s relationship troubles he’d be late to his afternoon class. What a brat.

Taehyung sighed and stared at his phone when he heard the door to his dorm shut, smiling when he saw your contact name. It was your name, adorned by a bunch of cute emojis you sent him on the daily. You really loved the sparkle and peach emoji, along with the plethora of pink hearts.

You’d asked if you were still on for lunch on Friday, claiming you were very excited for it. A smile etched it’s way onto the alpha’s face at the prospect of you being excited to see him, hurriedly responding that he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

And, honestly, he wouldn’t.

-

Friday had come faster than expected. Between you, Taehyung, and Yoongi, not much communication had happened ever since you’d asked if you were still on for lunch. Taehyung shrugged it off, assuming that both you and Yoongi had become busy with school and probably didn’t have the time to text back and forth like you usually did.

Not responding that Thursday wasn’t very out of character for either of you. Sometimes one or both of you would have the habit of procrastinating on school work, causing phones to be put away as you hit the books.

However, as Taehyung sent a text to your shared grouchat Friday morning, only to receive nothing in response, he began to get worried.

“Just go over and visit if you’re so worried.” Namjoon had told him, after Jungkook had said the same thing. Taehyung grimaced at the thought of showing up at your apartment uninvited, but he was worried and confused.

“Should I really do that, hyung? What if they don’t want to see me?” Taehyung asked, his insecurity on full display. Namjoon frowned, shaking his head. “Taehyung, if they didn’t want to see you I have no doubts that Yoongi probably would’ve said so. He’s just blunt like that,” Namjoon shrugged before continuing, “And if you’re worried, then check on them. They’ll tell you if something came up, because if it did they probably forgot.” Namjoon reasoned.

Taehyung knew the older male was right, but it didn’t stop the discomfort welling up in his chest. Surely, Yoongi would’ve communicated that he wasn’t up to hanging out, because he’d done it before. In the beginning it sort of hurt Taehyung’s feelings, but after you talked to him about how Yoongi could get anxious sometimes and it really had nothing to do with Taehyung himself, he’d calmed down.

“Ah, you’re right. I’ll head out, then.” Taehyung nodded, sending himself off with a smile and a wave goodbye as Namjoon murmured something about young love, which was entirely hypocritical considering their minimal age gap. Then again his entire friend group had the habit of calling Jungkook a kid, so Taehyung didn’t bother refuting the statement.

The drive over to your place was a rough one. Taehyung was too into his thoughts to even consider turning the music on, marinating in his own emotions causing his pheromones to no doubt go through the roof. No doubt would he catch attention if he rolled his window down, allowing his scent to permeate the streets.

Arriving at your building, Taehyung parked and headed inside, sending a polite smile to the lobby attendant who had grown fond of him over his several visits over. “I’m surprised to see you here!” She exclaimed, causing Taehyung’s eyes to widen in confusion before smiling and nodding. If he had more time, he probably would’ve asked her what she meant. But now it seemed trivial when he was this close to answers, to seeing if both of his omegas were okay.

If the attendant was bothered by his lack of response she didn’t show it, opting to shrug and return to the magazine she’d been reading before he entered. Taehyung headed down the hallway, stopping at your door and knocking a couple of times.

There was no answer. But Taehyung could practically smell you through the door, knowing the two of you hadn’t even left. He tried to qualm the annoyance festering inside of him, opting to think reasonably. He had a spare key, he could use it.

So he did. He opened the door and closed it behind him, only to get bombarded with your biologically changed scent. The world crashed onto him, making him well aware why you two hadn’t answered the phone, why you were so busy.

You had gone into heat, and the way Taehyung was salivating and breathing was proof enough. Before he got too overcome with your welcoming scent he reminded himself of his status not just to you, but to Yoongi. Even though every nerve in his body was telling him not to, he turned around to leave. If he didn’t he would’ve marched into that bedroom and satisfied you like you deserved, gave you his knot like he’s supposed to.

However, before he could even gather his bearings to leave, he heard your sweet, melodic voice keen from your slightly ajar bedroom door. “Alpha!” You whined, voice cute and high pitched, no doubt chasing the high Yoongi was driving you to.

Taehyung’s mouth went dry as his pupils dilated, overcome with a burning desire to take you. “Taehyung?” Yoongi yelled curiously, sounding tired. The poor omega probably hadn’t gotten a break ever since your heat broke out.

“Er- yeah, it’s me! I’m sorry you guys, I got worried when you didn’t answer after I asked about lunch. I’ll get out of your hair now.” Taehyung said hurriedly, each word feeling foreign as it fell out of his mouth. The last thing he wanted to do was make either of you uncomfortable and ruin the chance he didn’t have with you in the first place.

“No…” You whined out loud. “Taehyung and Yoonie stay.” You cried over the sounds of slapping skin, no doubt pistoning your hips back into Yoongi’s as you tried to get the heat symptoms to stop.

“Fuck.” Taehyung muttered, feeling all of the blood in his body run straight to his cock, which had steadily been getting harder ever since he stepped foot into the apartment. “Taehyung… Stay. If you want.” Yoongi said in his normal deep voice, with a hard edge to it. Taehyung’s feet stayed planted to the ground in surprise for a few seconds, before he practically ran to your bedroom, feet slipping off his feet along the way.

The sight the alpha was greeted with was one to behold. You were on your knees, shifting your body back into Yoongi’s as he held down the small of your back, fucking into you feverishly. Your face looked delectable, completely fucked out. Eyes half lidded and mouth open as whimpers and whines fell from it.

“She needs your help, Taehyung.” Yoongi said, slipping out of you as his cock softened, completely spent from taking care of you for so long. Your heat had hit earlier and harder than usual, something Yoongi wasn’t used to.

“Are you sure?” Taehyung asked, kneeling on the bed as you keened for him to get closer. He attempted to ignore you for a second, resting a hand on your sock clad calve and rubbing soothing circles onto it. Yoongi nodded, trust evident in his eyes. “Do you love Y/N?” Yoongi asked, breaking his gaze from Taehyung to look at you, smiling softly as he pet your hair. Taehyung stuttered.

“I- yes, I… I love you both.” Taehyung clarified, not missing the way Yoongi’s eyes widened in surprise before an embarrassed smile appeared on his lips. “We’ll talk about it after you put your knot to use. Breed my baby girl, Taehyung.” Yoongi whispered huskily, trapping Taehyung in a quick fiery kiss as he tore his belt off, then his pants. Taehyung all but growled into the kiss, turning away before pulling his cock out of his boxers, gripping your hips harshly and bending you so that your ass was up, pussy presented and waiting to be filled.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, aren’t you princess. You need a knot, don’t you?” Taehyung asked, bending down to lick a stripe down your pussy, having new sounds tear from your lips as tears began to well in your eyes, stimulation becoming more needed.

“Taehyungie please!” You whined out loud, wiggling your hips so he’d just mount you. Taehyung couldn’t seem to make himself wait any longer either, stuffing his cock inside of you with one swift motion and thrusting hard. You all but screamed into the pillow, drool falling from your lips as you revelled in pleasure.

“My good girl. Taking a big alpha cock in her tiny pussy. You like being stretched? Quite naughty, don’t you think?” Yoongi asked hotly, leaning down to speak close to your ear as Taehyung continued his assault on you.

“Yeees~ I like it Yoonie.” You whimpered, turning your head to the side to look back at Taehyung with wide, crazed eyes. His eyes were almost pitch black now, hair sticking to his forehead as he drilled himself into you.

“Flip her over.” Yoongi said to the alpha, who growled at the command but followed it nonetheless. Yoongi smiled, happy that the other listened to him. You were completely exposed to both of their prying eyes now, breasts jiggling with every thrust delivered to your sopping core, swollen pink clit begging to be rubbed to completion.

“So fucking pretty, princess. Look at this tight little pussy swallowing me up like that’s its job. Gonna breed you so good, you’ll be leaking for weeks. You’ll look so pretty round.” Taehyung murmured, absolutely no filter to his words as the only things that were consuming his mind was to knot you.

Yoongi thought his first time seeing you and Taehyung intimate together would fill him with insecurity and envy. However, looking at you now, seeing how happy the two of you were- how despite his dirty words Taehyung caressed your sides, admiration in his eyes behind the raw lust.

Taehyung’s genuine words, although rushed by the situation, filled Yoongi with a sense of content. There was no worry about competing for you or Taehyung if he held affection for you both, and he could finally stop worrying about being casted away and instead being able to focus on you alone.

Speaking of you, you were in complete bliss. Taehyung’s knot had begun to swell, catching on the rim of your swollen pussy with every cant of his hips. Yoongi looked at where you two were connected, leaning to rub at your sensitive clit which had you jerking in pleasure. Taehyung grabbed your legs to keep you stable as Yoongi continued to rub circles into your button, praising the sounds you made before taking a nipple into his mouth. There was one thing on his mind, to get you coming on Taehyung’s knot.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum.” Taehyung breathed heavily, thrusts getting even more aggressive as he continued to chase his high. Your voice was high pitched and loud, cries falling on deaf ears as both men continued to ravage you, and you couldn’t feel happier.

“Cum inside, Taehyungie… Fill me up, please!” You begged, gripping the sheets beside you harshly as your high approached at an alarming rate. With the combined power of Yoongi’s ministrations and Taehyung’s knot finally blowing inside you, you came hard, back arching off the bed in complete pleasure.

Yoongi hummed assurances in your ear as you came down, breathing heavy as drowsiness took over your body, the effects of your heat subsiding for the moment, thanks to Taehyung. You smiled in delirium, looking at both of the boys before pouting, a signal for a kiss. Yoongi leaned down immediately, covering your lips with his in a sweet kiss before pulling away, looking at Taehyung expectantly.

Taehyung bent down over you, making sure to stay close so his knot wouldn’t hurt you as it was lodged inside. He kissed you just as sweetly, slow and filled with love. When he pulled away he was smiling ear to ear, looking down at you in complete adoration.

“I love you, Taehyung… You too, Yoonie.” You smiled shyly, yawning right after the words left your mouth. Taehyung gave a playful scoff at your words. “Taehyung? What happened to Taehyungie?” He teased, causing you to shyly swat at his arm.

“Shush… Come on, let’s take a nap boys.” You said tiredly, grabbing at your blanket sleepily, which Yoongi draped over you as Taehyung maneuvered the two of you into a more comfortable position.

Even in a sex soiled bed, you were sure it was the best sleep you’d ever had. Surrounded with your loved ones, the harsh omega and loving alpha that encircled you in every happy feeling you could ever conjure.

Taehyung nuzzled his nose into your hair, breathing your scent in deeply to make up for all the times he had to stop before. You had no qualms, probably already asleep as your breathing became deep and steady, warmth radiating from your tired body. Yoongi had his arm slung around you and Taehyung, and Taehyung mimicked the position.

They looked at each other from over your sleeping form, sending each other genuine smiles as Taehyung winked cheekily at the other omega. “Don’t think you won’t get a turn too, Yoongi.” Taehyung joked quietly, causing Yoongi to quirk an eyebrow.

“You’re crazy if you think I’ll let you fuck me just because I’m an omega. Better start researching pegging, little boy.” Yoongi snorted, closing his eyes after his comment to join you in dreamland, unaware of the emotion he’s caused to well up inside the alpha. His cock twitched inside of you at the thought, and as he closed his eyes he realized that wouldn’t be so bad.

-

“Hyung, why are you looking up pegging on my computer? I didn’t know you were into that.” Jungkook called from his room, causing Taehyung to jump up from his bed in his own room to run into the one across the hall, jumping onto the bed and wrestling the younger aware from the computer.

“Mind your own business, jerk! Don’t knock it till you try it, right? Like it’s any of your business!” Taehyung said embarrassingly fast, faux annoyance coating his tone. Jungkook smiled, seemingly completely unbothered by being pinned down by the older.

“Whatever, hyung. Just didn’t know Yoongi hyung was into that.” Jungkook said, referencing Taehyung’s omegan boyfriend. Taehyung cocked an eyebrow.

“You didn’t know he was into that? Have you even met the guy? You’re dense, Kookie. Maybe it’s time you got laid instead of wondering what I’m up to.” Taehyung stuck his tongue out as he released the other, who just shrugged at his words.

“I can’t even refute that. Maybe if you didn’t take all the omegas I would’ve had a chance!” Jungkook yelled to his retreating roommate. Taehyung laughed and clapped his hands. “You would’ve have stood a chance, Kookie. Try calling Namjoon hyung.”

[sebastianshaw]

Fic suggest: Black Queen Haven

((ooh, thanks Anon! I usually write haven post-possession and in current canon, but for this I decided to go with her still being under The Adversary’s influence, and still during the 90s. I think actually she was DEAD by this point in canon, actually, when Selene was trapped under the Hellfire Club but ehhhh. tagging @badmusesdoitwell since there’s substantial Tessa in this, though you don’t have to read it!)

“You can’t be serious,” he’d told Tessa when she had first recommended Radha Dastoor, or “Haven” as she went by, for the rank of Black Queen. The woman was an ordinary member of the Hellfire Club, just another of the ridiculously elite civilian crowd who came for galas and balls and had no idea of its dark underside. She was a philanthropist, like so many others, and though she had taken on advocating for mutantkind, she was not one herself. According to Tessa though, there was more to her than met the eye. She had...mad goals, and power to match. She was no mutant, but Tessa claimed to have accessed government data that described power on an incredible scale, a devoted cult following, great resources yes...but devoted purely to chaos, to devastation and destruction for its own sake, all the name of bringing about the Mahapralaya, some kind of Hindu apocalypse. It was not the sort of thing the Hellfire Club trafficked in, and not something he wanted to tie them to. Sure, she had power, but if she was only interested in wielding it for religious zealotry, she had no place here. “It can be profited from,” Tessa urged him, “The “natural” disasters, the riots and revolts incited, the famine...all these things, Shaw Industries can find a market in. You know this.” “I can profit from her acts without having to have anything to do with her.” “Emma has defected. Madelyne has left. Selene is trapped beneath the basement of the Club. We have a great many empty seats, and I think it would be wise to fill one with someone of your selection, who will not be a threat to you, rather than wait for someone it is to fill it herself.” “If she is not a threat, she’s not worthy to be here.” “Haven...is a threat. Just simply not to you. Your destruction...would have no benefit to her cause. She has power enough to fill the seat and be safe from anyone who would take it, and thus keeps it occupied from anyone who would use it against you.” Shaw furrowed his brow, exhaled through his nose, and thought on it. Finally, he agreed. *** Tessa’s motives had been twofold. Firstly, she indeed didn’t want Sebastian killed by one of his cohorts, as much as he might at times deserve it. If Sebastian was no longer head of the Hellfire Club, then she could no longer influence it through him. Speaking of influence, that was the second reason for her recommendation. Xavier had contacted her about Haven, made this suggestion. His own confrontation with her had gone...poorly....but he said he had sensed a second mind within her, and he wished for Tessa to investigate. And, perhaps, Tessa hoped, she could stop this woman, save her, as she had been unable to stop or save Jean, another woman of great power from the influence of a being beyond herself. Haven herself had taken some convincing, some coaxing, just as Sebastian had. She’d been shocked at first to find out there was something more to the Hellfire Club than a mere social group, but she had accepted the surprise with grace, conceding that perhaps she should have guessed that the super-rich among the super-rich would form such cabals. Cabals that, she had said with the most polite of phrasing, she simply wasn’t interested in. Her actions were based not in the desire for personal power or gain, but in holiness, goodness, compassion. And she believed it, Tessa could tell. Even as the woman spoke of the massacres to come, she radiated both sorrow and divinity, the purity of her belief making it all the more tragic. She hated what she was doing yet she truly, Tessa didn’t need to be psychic to see, was compelled to. Tessa did most of the talking. Shaw was scornful of religious at the best of times, and she knew that Haven’s strange angelic, soft-spoken zealotry engendered nothing but scoffs and sneers from him, which hardly would persuade her. Tessa also made no use of telepathy, not just yet---Xavier had spooked her when she’d been aware of him creeping in, and Tessa knew she was no Xavier. No, she manipulated in a different way. She appealed to logic, made the calculations of what would appeal rationally to Haven, rather than pulling at her heartstrings. But if she had done that, if she could have---she knew it would have worked. After all her data on the woman’s deeds, she was unprepared for how...kind she was. Even her conversation was gentle, and she looked to Tessa with eyes of...it was as though she were being held by that gaze, embraced, as though Haven had never met her but loved her nonetheless. She’d looked the same way at Sebastian, though Tessa doubted he saw it. It sometimes seemed that just as Sebastian was insensitive to tender feelings himself, he was just as insensitive to seeing them in others. But Tessa...was taken aback by the woman, and she continued to be taken aback by her. Over her years in Shaw’s service, Tessa had become used to being ignored at best, derided at worst. Not by Sebastian himself---she was a valuable asset to him and he treated her as such---but by the others of the Hellfire Club, who were her primary, perhaps only, source of human contact. They either looked past her entirely, or leered at her when she was in her lingerie costume, or derided her because they could not directly attack Shaw without consequence. This was good. It was what she wanted, what suited her mission, to be considered invisible, beneath notice, beneath ever being seen as a threat, as nothing more than Shaw’s lap dog or ornament, a mere secretary or eye-candy, usually both. Haven wasn’t like that. She smiled every time she saw Tessa, asked her how she was, and sounded like she MEANT it. It wasn’t just a social nicety. It made Tessa feel...human special, even if Haven said the same to Shaw, to everyone. Because she really did mean it for everyone. She tried to find out Tessa’s interests, bring her small gifts, connect with her...it, it was hard to fend off. She’d dealt with would-be gal pals from the maids and would-be suitors here and there, but everyone eventually understood---Tessa was cold. Tessa was a robot. Tessa wasn’t interested. Tessa wasn’t real. Haven...she didn’t press. She didn’t try to CHANGE Tessa or try to make her feel something, yet at the same time treated her so... It didn’t matter. The death toll on Haven’s hands had continued to mount. The reports had been true, and now she had the resources of the Hellfire Club at her disposal. It was up to Tessa to begin doing what Xavier what could not. It was up to her to free this woman...or, if it came to it, end her. *** Haven made Shaw uneasy. Tessa had been right, her simpering philanthropic principles and soft-minded religious zealotry were ridiculous to him in equal measure, but neither was disturbing to him. Indeed, the former was more immoral to him than the latter, but it was nothing unusual. Many people swallowed the societal norm that the haves should help the have-nots with hand-outs, and Haven was clearly not the sort to think for herself---hence the religious zealotry---it was something he’d seen countless times before in countless other fools. And her powers, whatever their source...those were unusual, but as much as she was wasting them, Tessa was right, they at least kept others at bay. No, this wasn’t what got under his skin. Nor that fact she cared for the sick and orphaned in the same day as wiping out millions of the same and seemed equally sincere in both, nor knowing she could wipe him out of existence if she so chose just by thinking about it, nor the way her eyes were sometimes solid black like volcanic glass. No, her eyes bothered him for a different reason. It was when they were normal, when they were plain big brown eyes that looked at him like...like...like she felt sorry for him. The softness in them, the sympathy, the gentle way she spoke when she refuted any attempt he made at engaging her in rationality. It was infuriating, provoking. It made him want to push harder, and he didn’t like that---not because Shaw had any qualms doing it, but because he didn’t like the feeling he was being influenced towards ANYTHING, even something he’d have done anyway. He’d walked in on her crying once and been  struck by the shocking urge to hit her. The shocking part wasn’t the  violence in mind, but the fact he cared enough to think of it, that he  wanted her to stop crying, that he did not want her to cry, to be  distressed, that it distressed him, and his only understanding of what  to do to make her cease was that violence. And that unnerved him too, that he had given a damn, enough to want to hurt her. He hadn’t. But he’d wanted to.   He wanted to hurt her a lot, to force her to fight back. She was a gentle thing, for all her power, and someone else was going to do it sooner or later, someone who MEANT it, someone who knew what she was doing with that power and planned to stop her PERMANENTLY. Better she learn NOW, since she should have long ago, against someone who WANTED her to do it. Who WANTED her to fight back. Of course, if she did, well...given what her powers did, that’d be the end of him, so he didn’t. But he wanted to. To see those soft eyes turn to hard obsidian and those open palms curve into claws that would tear his own from their sockets. But he didn’t. One day, someone else would make her. And that was not, he reminded himself, his business or his responsibility. If she wished to be weak despite all the power she possessed, she deserved what she got, it was not his problem. Not his problem. Still, his growing irritation with her lack of self-preservation and his disgust with her...expressions at him...began to color their interactions. Until one day, she had to asked, gentle and polite as ever, “Have I offended you, Mr. Shaw?” Of course she had. But he wasn’t exactly sure how to express that without sounding like a lunatic. “I’m not offended, Ms. Dastoor. I simply find you unbearably insipid. That’s all.” And she smiled at him. That sweet, damnable smile. And he’d lost it. He’d told her in no uncertain terms---and no uncertain volume--what he thought of her, why he thought, and what he’d like to do to her for it, what he’d like for HER to do, what--- She’d kept smiling, even as her eyes got sadder and sadder as he spoke, and she reached out and touched him, holding the side of his face, "There’s a hole in you,” she said, like a deathbed nurse giving comfort, “A hollow, with no opening. No light gets in. Any bit of brightness someone sends your  way goes out and you can’t perceive it or produce any of your own to  return it. I don’t know if you were hurt or you are made this way but  it’s as real a defect as if you had a missing  limb. And like a missing  limb, it does not cause you pain but it impedes you. And just as  physical deformities make others wince to gaze upon, so too am I in  pain when I feel this from you, when I see you suffering without knowing you are suffering.   Do you think I do not feel your crushing void?” He felt it, in that moment, a black hole that sucked out any possible response, any possible THOUGHT for response. But it wasn’t from inside him. It was coming from her. He told Tessa the next day to get rid of her.

[empresspeacock]

Find the White Wolf Pt. 4

Summary: Geralt goes missing and you’re determined to be the one who finds him and brings him home

Pairing: Geralt x Reader

Warnings: Violence, language, slow burn smut

A/N: I have only watched the show on Netflix, I have never played any of the games or read any of the books. If I break canon, that’s why. Plot based on my imagination, so you do not have to watch the show to enjoy.

Link to Part 1  Link to Part 2 Link to Part 3

Word Count: 1766

You hoped Geralt had the energy to follow the plan. Trying to help him down the stairs and through the long corridors to the dining hall was a bit of a challenge. Thank god for hand rails. By the time you made it, he simply plopped down at the nearest table, rested his elbows on the surface, slumped his head, and just sat there. Well, they'll definitely buy my story that he's too sedated to do much of anything.

"Oh my, I didn't realize how much this companion was struggling to function. I can see what you mean." Mera cooed while walking over to us. "You certainly are noble for helping him down the stairs, Gianna here says it was quite the struggle."

"Well he's no good with a broken neck cause he fell down the stairs." You huffed. You needed to catch your breath. From here on out, you were going to take your workouts with your cousins more seriously. "So I presume you're going to stop sedating him so he can actually do something?"

"Well, I did tell you he wasn't ready to be shown to people yet." Mera flashed one of her dazzling smiles.

"I thought you meant because he had attitude problems, not because you sedated him so much. Is there some sort of antidote you can give him to flush the sedatives out of his system quickly? I'd hate for all few days that I spent here to be miserable because the one guy I'm attracted to couldn't do anything." you said in your best Karen voice. It's a good thing you've had the misfortune of encountering so many of them. You were nailing your imitation.

Mera looked thoughtfully for a few moments. "Well, I'd hate for you to be injured because he was too unruly."

You clamped your hand on the back of Geralt's neck. He jumped a little. Hopefully Mera read the jump as fear and not him trying to fight the instinct to swing around and hit you. "He won't be a problem. I love bringing witchers to their knees."

Mera's eyes widened. She looked bewildered and then quickly managed to bring her face back to the pleasant smile she liked to plaster across her face. "So you know who he is then? I thought you looked startled yesterday when he was first shown to you."

"This man is one of the most famous witchers out there. I've had my eyes on him for a long time. The last few times we saw each other, he was quite rude to me." You made a show of tightening the grip on his neck. "I will take a lot of pleasure out of bringing him down." You couldn't see his face, but you hoped he looked miserable as promised, not furious.

"I suppose it makes sense that you two would have crossed paths at some point before," Mera mused. "But if he was rude to you before, what makes you think he won't be rude to you now? And I'm sure you've seen how well he can fight."

"Societal norms held me back before. I couldn't take him down with my parents watching. However, I think it's safe to say that societal norms don't apply here?" You challenged.

"Not....exactly. Within reason."

"Good, then I should have lots of fun here. As soon as this witcher can put up a bit of a fight." You smiled at Mera. She forced a smile back.

"I shall return with the antidote. But I will also give you some of the sedative just in case you realize that you've bitten off more than you can chew. It's very fast acting." Mera turned and walked off down a corridor you weren't shown yesterday. Could that be where other companions are kept? Your horse?

You sat down next to Geralt and began grabbing food off the platters in front of you. "Make sure you eat something, you have a long day ahead of you." You slapped Geralt's thigh and chuckled. He jumped again. You could feel him glaring at you, but you pretended to ignore him and ate.

You looked around and took in the dining hall. More ornate crystal chandeliers. Not surprising at this point. Those were everywhere. Multiple long dining tables with plush benches. The plush is new to you, normally benches are just wood, but the overall setup wasn't unusual. There were five corridors leading out of the dining hall. You've been down two of them. Hopefully you'll be able to see all of them at some point. The high ceiling was domed at the top with skylights. The sun shown in, teasing you with its freedom. Soon you will be out of here. You hope.

You noticed that there were no other customers at the Castle of Rosodonia. How strange. You gestured to a passing handmaiden. She stopped and sat side-saddle on the bench across from you.

"Yes, how can I help you?"

"Where's everyone else? How come there are no other clients?"

"Oh that's because we weren't expecting anyone drop by out here. We were recharging before our next jump. As well as trying to get your companion here and others trained."

"Next jump?"

"Oh, ya, this is an enchanted castle. We jump from kingdom to kingdom to serve various elite around the world."

The tingling you felt when you crossed the bridge. It was a magic barrier. Far more powerful than you've ever felt before which explains why you didn't recognize it. "So that's how y'all keep this place so clean, it's enchanted." You forced a hearty laugh.

"It helps!" the handmaiden said cheerfully. "Anything else?"

"No, that was it, just wondering why this place was just servants walking around."

"We're normally much busier when we're near a rich city." The handmaiden got up, slightly curtsied and walked away.

So that explains why that guy you spoke to never mentioned a castle on the way to the mountains, it might not have been here when he walked by. But why have you never heard of a travelling pristine castle before? The wealthy are terrible at keeping secrets. They love to gossip too much. And you thought you knew of every sorceress out there. Was Mera from beyond your lands? Has the castle traveled since you've arrived? If you and Geralt managed to escape, would you be able to find the castle again to free all the other companions? Since you're dealing with a sorceress, would you be able to escape?

In the middle of pondering, Mera walked back up to your table. "Here is the antidote, I'll administer it myself since I know how much he's had and when was his last injection." She took the syringe and pierced into his arm. You quickly looked away. You hated the sight of needles. Geralt groaned. "And here are a few sedatives for you. He will need a new one every 12 hours." She held four vials and a syringe for you to take. No replacement needles. How sanitary.

"Thank you, I don't think I'll need these for now, can I have them taken to my room instead?" you asked.

"Certainly. I always have a few sedatives on me in case someone misbehaves while a client is trying to enjoy their time playing a game." Mera glanced over at Geralt, then looked back at you and smiled. "I'll let you two finish your breakfast now." Mera got up and went to another table to eat her own food.

"You have two days." Geralt mumbled.

"Hush, not here" you quietly said. "Eat more food, you need to get your strength back. Focus on getting protein and carbs."

"Hmmph" Geralt grabbed a smoked turkey leg and began chowing down.

You hoped you were playing your role as a confident, arrogant wealthy person well. If Mera suspected anything, she could enchant you and make you forget everything you ever knew. Or even worse, make you a companion too.

"Are you starting to feel better?" Hopefully the antidote acts as quickly as the sedative or the plan might not work.

"Yes, I will ask to go to the bathroom when I'm done eating."

"Great. I will ask to see my horse when I'm done as well."

You both finished your meals in silence. The music playing the background was pleasant. They had a large harp, which was rare, as well as the usual instruments.

Geralt finished the last of his ale and got up "to go use the restroom". He was supposed to be wandering around exploring pretending to be lost. He walked away at more of a stroll instead of a regular walking pace. He's not all the way there yet, but definitely better than he was about half an hour ago.

You went over to Mera's table. "I'd like to see how my horse is doing. She's gets anxious if I'm away from her too long."

"Very well, Felicia, would you mind showing y/n to their horse?" Mera said to the burly looking woman who opened the gate when you arrived.

Felicia got up and held her arm out in a "go ahead of me" gesture. You began walking in the direction her arm was pointed. Great, one of the other corridors. You walked and passed by a lush courtyard, filled with fruit trees, big blooming flower bushes, and various other plants. It smelled wonderful. There was a two tier fountain in the middle of it.

"I'll have to remember where this is, it smells wonderful over here!" you joked with Felicia.

"Yes, it is very pleasant." she concluded. Well, she doesn't talk much.

Eventually you two made it to the stable. There were large wooden doors in the back. Could that be a way out?

You sped walked to your horse. Your saddle and it's bags were sitting outside the stall. "Hello there, how are you doing all cooped up in here?" Petunia nickered and rubbed her head against yours.

"I'll leave you two together." Felicia said and turned to walk away.

"Uh, just a moment, those doors wouldn't happen to lead outside would they? I'd like to give Petunia a brief run."

Felicia huffed and walked over to a lever you hadn't noticed before. She pulled it down and the doors opened with the signature silence all the doors around here seemed to open with.

"Great, thanks!" You smiled at Felicia, but she didn't even bother looking at you and just walked out of the stable.

"You and I are going to do some exploring" You said to Petunia. She nickered again.

[propshophannah]

Hi, so I’m not super sure what I’m trying to say but I’m feeling down abt some manorian posts I saw. It’s prob really dumb but I get like upset/sad when blogs I like a lot love everything SJM but then say they’re anti one of her ships. I’ve criticized SJM’s writing & there r ships I don’t particularly like...but I’d never say I was anti one of her ships? Idk. Maybe I’m just confused/sad abt why ppl who love SJM choose that word when it carries a lot of baggage in fandoms. idk. I was just 1/2

feeling kinda sad about it. I also saw ppl I respect a lot saying manorian isn’t a ship cuz they don’t say I love you/show PDA/only have sex. I was just…really hurt by that? It felt like they were saying ppl had to act a certain way for their feelings or relationships to be valid. I don’t think they meant to be offensive(?) they just didn’t realize they were marginalizing a lot of ppl & cultures that show affection differently. idk. It made me really sad & I’m not sure what to do. 2/2

—

Hi Nonnie, I’m sorry it took me so long to get to this ask and I’m sorry you’re feeling sad and confused. I want you to know that what you’ve brought up here is not dumb. Your feelings are valid and important! I’ll try to address your ask as best I can.

About fandom use of the term anti.

You are not alone in finding this odd or discouraging. I’ve seen stuff like this from time to time on “pro” blogs and found myself thinking the same exact thing. I’ve had a lot of conversations with people about it, too. It does seem like there could be a better way to phrase ship criticism or dislike of something other than to use the word anti because you’re right, it does carry a lot of baggage.

To play the devil’s advocate, I think it’s really important to remember that context is key. Just because a fandom blog you love says they’re “anti” something doesn’t mean they’re using the term in the same way Official Anti Blogs use it. (As I write this, I’m wondering if I’ve ever used it to express dislike, not realizing how it could come across!) It could be a joke you’re not in on, or phrasing used because the blogger was rage posting (we’ve all been there) and that was the phrase that validated their feelings in that moment, or it could be that they used that phrase without thinking about how it might come off to their followers.

Have you tried asking the blogger about it? Maybe just send a quick note about how it made you feel. They might not realize how it comes off. This could give you an opportunity to feel as though you’ve been heard and it would allow the blogger the opportunity to explain why they chose that phrase. I think you should ask them, Nonnie! Just because there are a lot of reasons someone might choose that phrase that don’t necessarily mean they are against SJM, or only pro the things they like about her writing and against everything else.

Now that’s not to say that a blog can’t be pro SJM and still be anti something about her books or (as you said) criticize her work. And if that’s the phrase they choose to use then there isn’t much we can do about it. We can’t change other people, but we can change ourselves. So maybe, you don’t follow that blog anymore, or you remind yourself that they’re still a great blog, but one you disagree with on word choice and topics.

About PDA and relationship validation.

I actually love that you brought this up because this is a conversation I’ve been having a LOT lately. There have been a handful of posts or comments on posts lately where things like PDA etc. were used to lessen or invalidate Manon and Dorian’s relationship and it just left an icky feeling with a lot of people.

I should be VERY clear here. I DO NOT think the people who use PDA as an argument for invalidating a ship realize they’re marginalizing people, or are being offensive when they do this. I think it’s more that they’ve just never been in a position where they were asked to think about it that way. The normative category is by definition ignorant of itself, right? Like, even I had a hard time figuring out why some of these arguments left a bad taste in my mouth, and it wasn’t until after I’d talked to a few people that I was able to really figure it out.

But you’re right! Not everyone expresses affection by exhibiting normative displays of romantic love (such as hand holding, cuddling, kissing etc.). Some people aren’t capable of those things, don’t like those things, or they just choose to express affection differently (maybe by validating someone’s feelings, keeping them safe, being present, providing for them in small ways like making dinner or folding their person’s laundry etc.).

And I think the best/most relevant point you make, is that some people don’t come from cultures that normalize PDA. Western cultures show affection VERY differently than Eastern cultures.

Recently I watched a CNN special on Japan that talked a lot about this idea of “sexlessness” and how culturally the Japanese don’t show a lot of affection, specifically touch affection (hugs, kisses, hand holding after marriage etc.). It was fascinating and I’d argue that the idea of cultural differences TOTALLY APPLIES to the Ironteeth in ToG. We don’t know a lot about their culture, but we do know that affection in any form is frowned upon and discouraged. So if we consider how Manon grew up thinking she was incapable of love/displaying loving or kind emotions (and subsequently beaten/abused for displayed them) it’s not hard at all to see how it would take her a lot of time (and deprogramming) to be able to show and express those kinds of emotions.

This is her ENTIRE character arc, right? From the very moment she appeared on page, she told us how heartless she was, while simultaneously showing us how heartless she was not. (I mean, helloOoOo Abraxos!) Her first “I love you” always belonged to him. But she didn’t need to say it for us to know she loved him. It was there the whole time in her actions. Same with the Thirteen. Manon loved them dearly. They were her sisters, her family. And just because she never told them “I love you” doesn’t mean she didn’t love them. I have plenty of friends whom I love very deeply who I’ve never said I love you to. I likewise have lots of friends who I have said it to. Also, it’s easier to tell a pet/animal that we love them rather than risk saying it to a person, right? Animals aren’t going to judge or reject you—or even verbally respond. Therefore, it’s a low risk endeavor. (Not to say I think this is the only reason she said it to Abraxos!)

My partner and I are not into PDA. At all. Sometimes, if we’re in a group of close friends or family I may be more into showing touch affection, but usually we save those moments for private. There have been MANY times when we’ve been out and people have hit on my partner because they honestly don’t know we’re together. And I don’t get mad/jealous or physically stake a claim or anything when this happens. I let my partner handle it. We just aren’t into sharing our intimate moments with other people. It’s for us only.

So I totally understand how an argument based on PDA can be really hurtful or potentially offensive. Especially when the argument ignores the great moments of communication we get with manorian. As if communication is less important to relationships than PDA…

I also see nothing wrong with casual sex, though I don’t see manorian as having had casual sex (even before the “stay” scene where they clearly did more than just sex). I think they both talk a big game about how the sex didn’t mean anything, but if that were true then why wouldn’t Dorian pursue Vesta? Why would the idea of Dorian with another person make Manon jealous? I feel like they both wanted to pretend like The Sex didn’t mean anything, but I read two people, who weren’t able to verbalize their feelings for one another, finding a shared safe space that was free of responsibilities and the horrors of war where they could be with one another and express their feelings the only way they could at that moment in time. (Which is another reason the “stay” scene stands out.)

TL;DR

A good friend of mine is not monogamous at all. She’s in a relationship with a married man (who’s in an open relationship with his wife). They’re bf and gf and she tells me how they say I love you to one another, take trips together, have AMAZING sex, he writes her the most beautiful love letters, they go on dates—they do EVERYTHING couples do. Except he’s married and they’re both sleeping with other people.

And sometimes it’s HARD for me to figure out where to put this in my brain because I grew up with a specific set of parameters that defined what a relationship was supposed to look like. Sometimes I get confused about how he also loves his wife, sometimes I get confused about how my friend knows their relationship is real. Like it’s hard because it challenges societal expectations of what relationships look like.

I think that happens sometimes with ships in books—or with anything in life that we don’t understand. When something is different than what we expect or are used to, it can kind of…blind us to what’s there. If it still bothers you, Nonnie, you could try explaining your side to these people and start a dialogue? It might actually be really helpful for you and them! Give it a try and let me know!

[multiimuse]

1 2 3 4 6 10 12 13 15 - bsd kids !

1.) what would completely break your character?

Chuuya - There isn’t much that would break Chuuya. In fact, it would probably take someone deliberately going to the trouble to do so. He’s skilled at picking himself up from things that would have broken others and throwing himself into something else. Betrayal would shake him, but the only thing that would truly break him would be a complete and prolonged loss of control over himself, his life, and his body. He values his ability to be in control of himself so highly that to lose that would tear him apart, and the longer it goes on, the worse he’ll be when he comes out the other side.

Alcott -  Being directionless and without guidance would break Louisa. She’s very good at supporting others, but she’s a follower, and without someone to guide her or a purpose to work towards, she’s very easily broken. Her desperation to find and help restore Fitzgerald to his position of power was, at heart, her loyalty combined with her inability to take hold of her own life. Without someone or something to give herself to, Louisa would fall apart.

Ranpo - Having his world upended on him again. It nearly broke him once, and it took the intervention of Fukuzawa to keep him from snapping. To have his security ripped out from under him again, to lose the people he’s come to depend upon and car for in return... he couldn’t handle that happening again. (He’s always known there’s an inherent level of risk in the work they do, but he never fully believed anything could take a single one of his coworkers down, let alone the president. Not permanently.) 

2.) what was the best thing in your character’s life?

Chuuya - Receiving closure on the whole Arahabaki... thing. The answers he learned weren’t all things he wanted to hear, and they weren’t necessarily easy to live with, but knowing for certain is still the best thing that he could have ever experienced, because it let him put that chapter of his life behind him at last and focus on building up who he wanted to be.

Alcott - Working for Fitzgerald --- as frustrating as he can be, she knows he relies on and appreciates her strategic skills, and it inspires her to work her hardest. Even now, she wouldn’t go back; she’s right where she wants to be, and she’s thankful that she could get this back. 

Ranpo - Getting an answer that made a confusing and terrifying world refocus into something he could understand. That day in the theatre with Fukuzawa saved his sanity, and he knows that full well. More than that, it shifted the direction his entire life took, and led to him gaining the family that he has now. There’s very little that can even come close to the relief that came from him getting a logical explanation for why the adult world was so bewildering.

3.) what was the worst thing in your character’s life?

Chuuya - Dazai leaving the mafia.Alright, no, that was just the culmination of it. The worst thing was the disintegration of their partnership, the tentative friendship they had been building falling apart before it could solidify or grow into anything more.

Alcott - Losing her younger sister, Elizabeth. It wasn’t something that surprised anyone, because she was very sick for a long time. But it still hurt, and hurts to this day. That, in the end, there as nothing that could save her --- that the money she sent home from her work with the Guild could, in the end, only go toward making her comfortable... it’s easily the worst thing she’s ever had to face.

Ranpo - When his parents died and left him alone in a world that he could neither understand nor cope with, leaving him to face his grief and try to find his way without any kind of support. It was and is the worst thing that has ever happened to him, though... recent manga events are threatening to outdo that.

4.) what seemingly insignificant memories stuck with your character?

Chuuya - A lot of little incidents from when he and Dazai were partners: spilling a newly-purchased wine on his equally-new rug, a spar that got out of hand (and got both of them in trouble), the mission that earned the mackerel his nickname, etc. It would take too long to go through all of them, because there are so many and so varied. They’re not all tied back to Dazai, however --- there are moments with Kouyou, sharing tea and training, conversations with Hirotsu, any number of Kajii’s strangest ‘experiments’... just little things, but things that remind him of the people who have been a major part of his life for good or ill.

Alcott - Listening to her sister Elizabeth play the piano, discussing dreams and future plans with all of her siblings, reading by the fire with her father. When she cut her hair to above her shoulders for the first time in her life, much to family’s horror. An argument between her parents about philosophy versus practicality. Falling into a pond when she was eight years old and losing a shoe to the muck.

Ranpo - Hahaha... this would take too long to list, because Ranpo’s memory is like a steel trap, and he remembers so many things that seem insignificant to other people that it would take forever to go through all of them. But one such memory is walking with his mother in their garden, just after she had gotten some new, imported flower seeds. He was angry thy hadn’t sprouted yet, and she told him to give them more time --- they’d emerge when they were ready to face the world, and not before. (It stands out in his mind moreso than most things, because neither he nor his mother ever saw those flowers bloom: she and Father died mere weeks after that walk.)

6.) what is your character reluctant to tell people?

Chuuya - Anything about Arahabaki and Corruption. If you don’t already know, you don’t need to know. On a less obvious level, he’s very reluctant to tell anyone when he’s feeling conflicted about something. It’s much easier to be honest about straightforward emotions --- when something has him tangled up in mixed feelings, he’ll generally only address the surface-level, obvious issues in conversations with other people. (For example, he was very open with being pissed at Dazai for everything he did, but was extremely reluctant to bring up or admit to anything else he felt about his partner.)

Alcott - Louisa is reluctant to tell anyone the kind of background she comes from. She’ll admit she has multiple sisters, and that one was sick for a while before passing away, but she won’t breathe a word about her father’s habits or how many times they moved or... anything like that. Why should she? She at least has a family, and she’s loved. There’s no reason to bring up the less-pleasant details, is there?

Ranpo - With the ADA, at least, he’s very reluctant to tell them that he knows he doesn’t have an Ability. While this is in part because he doesn’t want to look stupid for having believed it for so long, it’s also due to the fact that it’s a comfortable little delusion, something that’s become a part of his identity and the routine of his world, and admitting that he knows the glasses do nothing would shake him out of his comfort zone. (He has less issue admitting it to other people, and he can finally admit it to himself entirely as long as he’s alone, so... he’ll get there eventually.) He’s also pretty reluctant to talk about anything that upsets him on a deeper level --- he’d much rather distract himself or fuss about something that’s easily remedied than address anything more serious.

10.) what would your character make a scene in public about?

Chuuya - He’s not prone to making scenes in public unless Dazai is right there and pushing his buttons. Then he’s likely to make a scene just because he can’t keep his temper under control around that asshole. (...And, alright, he’s kind of a wine snob, and he’ll kick up a fuss about bad wine.) 

Alcott - Nothing! Why would she want to make a scene? Scenes are scary, they make people look at you and try to talk to you and then all you can do is try to get away. The only kind of scene she’s likely to make is when something spooks her enough to make her panic, or Fitzgerald has driven her to the very end of her rope.

Ranpo - He doesn’t really care if the world knows that he’s hungry or tired or lost or just feeling ignored, so he’ll make a scene about just about anything if he’s uncomfortable or unhappy enough. Why bother with societal norms that seem pointless and stupid to him, anyway? 

12.) what are your character’s major flaws?

Chuuya - His temper, though he’s gotten better at controlling it as he’s gotten older, save for when it’s Dazai poking at him. He’s also a little too trusting, a little too gullible, a little too willing to believe what he’s being told if it comes from the mouth of someone he considers important enough to pay attention to. And it isn’t a major flaw anywhere else, perhaps, but the fact that he genuinely dislikes taking casualties and tends to get attached to other people within the mafia is a trait that is a flaw by virtue of leading toward unsafe habits. In short, he cares too much. (Note, however, that this doesn’t apply to strangers or anyone outside of the mafia --- he doesn’t care about everyone, after all.)

Alcott - Her anxiety is to the point of crippling, and is one of her biggest flaws. But it’s far from the only one: she also tends to see money as a way to solve problems, or at least ease them, and she’s far, far too reliant on others to give her a set goal and purpose in life. She wouldn’t be able to function without Fitzgerald giving her something to do, and her loyalty to him has led her to excuse most, if not all, of his actions. 

Ranpo - His pride and lack of tact, for sure. He’s arrogant to a fault, and while yes, he can back up his claims, that combined with his lack of tact can leave a lot of wreckage in his wake. (See the state that he left Poe in after crushing him in that competition.) Generally, he can be thoughtless and disrespectful, and cheerfully selfish in a way rather like a human hurricane --- he doesn’t necessarily mean to leave everything scattered in his wake, but it happens anyway. 

13.) what does your character pretend or try to care about?

Chuuya - He makes an effort to try and show interest in and care about whatever his coworkers are hung up on. This mostly extends to putting up with things that he has no desire to actively participate in, like Kajii’s experiments or ideas. It helps that he really does care about the rest of the mafia --- they’re the only family he’s ever known, so it’s worth expressing an interest in things that he has no real interest or investment in.

Alcott - She doesn’t see much point in pretending to care about anything, even if it might be the kinder thing to do. However, she does try to care about Fitzgerald’s sudden interest in shopping for bargains, if mostly so that she can try to teach him how to actually shop wisely. It’s less about enjoying the hobby, however, and more about damage control.

Ranpo - Why in the world would he pretend to care about something he has no interest in? Why would he want to try? Ranpo doesn’t bother with anything like that, both because he doesn’t care for pretending or conforming to others’ ideas about what’s polite or sensible, and because he’s naturally a little too self-centered to see the worth in faking or forcing interest. If he’s interested, he’ll show it, if not, why bother?  

15.) what is your character afraid of?

Chuuya - Losing his humanity; being forced into using Corruption when Dazai is too far away or too disinterested to step in and stop him before he dies, the pictures of his unfortunately highly-successful crossdressing mission turning up again.

Alcott - Something happening to her family while she’s away in Japan and never finding out. Being left to try and find her own way. Talking to strangers or people she doesn’t know well yet or particularly loud and intimidating coworkers. Heights. Mice.

Ranpo - Losing Fukuzawa and Yosano, and to a slightly lesser extent the rest of the agency. (He likes everyone there, or is learning to, but Fukuzawa and Yosano are family, and he can’t bear to lose another family.) Looking stupid in front of the people that matter. A national candy shortage. 

[moreracquetball]

You constantly say you love Marvin, how can you love an abusive man who hit his ex-wife?

What a great question that could have been asked way morenicely!

But yes, I guess I do “constantly” say that I love Marvin.He is definitely my all-time favorite character of the musical, hands down. Now,and let me just stress this as much as I possibly can, just because he’s my favorite character doesn’t mean that I will ever tryto excuse/justify his toxic behavior and abusive actions. He was veryselfish and overly controlling of everyone in his life, and he was emotionallyabusive to others, and he physically struck Trina. That is not okay behavior,and I will never defend Marvin for that. It doesn’t matter if he was insecureor overwhelmed or scared. That doesn’t negate abuse.

To me, Marvin is not my favorite person in the musical (as in, I don’t love his personality aboveall the others and I don’t blindly agree with all his decisions and I don’t support/forgiveeverything that he did) but he is definitely my favorite character.

Indisputably, Marvin is the one character that shows themost character growth over the musical (/trilogy, if you want me to include InTrousers). In In Trousers, Marvin was aconfused, frustrated, miserable man who overcame his insecurity in his sexualityand grew to embrace himself as a gay man. In Act One of Falsettos, Marvin’scharacter development was even furthered ashe eventually abandoned his overly selfish, controlling, narcissistic, insecureself and became more humble and aware that not everything is about him and thathe needed to both realize and acknowledge his faults and wrong-doings. InAct Two, Marvin is shown to be a better person – he’s kinder and lesscontrolling and less selfish – but he isstill shown to be harboring some remaining selfishness and self-absorption (see:“Year of the Child” and “Everyone Hates His Parents”), which is then further depleted when Whizzer gets sick and Marvinstruggles to comfort and care for him.

To say that Marvin is just “an abusive man who hit hisex-wife” is very trivializing to the character itself. Marvin was also a clearlymentally ill patient of Mendel, an imperfect but adoring father to Jason, a dearfriend to the lesbians next-door, a flawed but nonetheless loving partner toWhizzer. Guys, Marvin wasn’t always terrible all the time – he supported Jasonin “Father to Son” and “Jason’s Bar Mitzvah,” he tried to help Cordelia get abooking in “Year of the Child,” he nervously flirted with Whizzer in “BaseballGame” and “A Day in Falsettoland,” he comforted Whizzer in “Days Like This” and“Unlikely Lovers” and “What Would I Do?” Sure, he had his imperfect moments, and I’m not saying that his kinder momentscancel out his less-than-kinder ones. What I am saying is that hisless-than-kinder moments do not cancel out his kinder moments.

Also, by trivializing Marvin like that, you’re completelymissing the the points that I believe William Finn was trying to get across.

First of all, Marvin’s flaws were carefully cultivated andframed in such a way that it is a very clear societal critique on William Finn’spart. Marvin’s selfishness and need forcontrol is based on his preconception of what masculinity and family means – asif those two concepts have concrete, constraining, narrow definitions. Societytold Marvin that being a man means being the bread-winner and coming home to a doting,domestic partner. Society told Marvin that a family means a husband, wife, andson (and a friend – it should benoted that Marvin did not call Whizzer his boyfriend or partner during “TightKnit Family,” as if he was still trying to keep up a façade of heterosexuality byreferring to Whizzer as just a friend).Marvin is a character shown to have a very narrow mind of what is “right” (see:accepted), and so he tries to follow these suffocating “guidelines” as if thatwill make him happy and content. Marvin is a very insecure man, and by showing how not only that he fails tokeep up these appearances but that he loses nearly everyone in his life,William Finn demonstrates that adhering to societal norms and “going by thebook” can lead to devastating consequences. Marvin is not only a flawed characterin this musical; he’s an example of what not to do, a lesson to those scared ofbeing different and unconventional.

He is also a prime example of just how cruel and unfair thatthe AIDS crisis was. One line in Unlikely Lovers has always stuck with me (it’sarguably the most devastating line of the whole trilogy), and it’s Marvin’s “I can’t help but feeling I’ve failed.”

Because in Act One, the misery wrought to Marvin’s life wascaused by Marvin’s actions. He lost his tight-knit family because he divorcedTrina and left Jason. He alienated Jason by abandoning him and not living up tothe minimum standard of a good father. He lost Whizzer because he was unwillingto ever be emasculated in the slightest regard. He caused his own undoing and unhappiness by being a bad person.

But in Act Two, things are different, right? He’s nicer,more willing to be proven wrong and “emasculated,” more doting on andsupportive of Jason, finally content with not “having it all.” So, by this logic, Marvin deserved ahappy ending, didn’t he?

But he didn’t get that happy ending. The love of his lifebecame sick, and it’s strongly implied that Marvin was also infected. Marvin feels like he’s failed to be thebest version of himself, that he’s being punished. In “What Would I Do?” There’sthe line, “Once I was told that good menget what they deserve.” But Marvin and Whizzer didn’t get what theydeserve.

Marvin’s redemption arc was so profound and pivotal to themusical, but it didn’t guarantee him a happy ending. It didn’t save him orthose that he loves from heartbreak and shatter. Because AIDS doesn’t care if you’re a good or bad person, if you “deserve”a happy or bad ending. Because “deserves” has nothing to do with it.

“I can’t help butfeeling I’ve failed.” Marvin tried to be a better person and get thathappiness, but he failed. And that’s – that’s devastating. And just the messagethat Falsettos was trying to send.

So, yes, I love Marvin. I won’t be shamed or guilted into lyingand saying that I don’t.

In Summary (in case you just skimmed through all that anddidn’t bother to read it):

Marvin was acharacter that was constantly changing, constantly evolving, constantlybecoming a better version of himself. No other character in Falsettos was likethat to that measure of extreme. Inaddition to his phenomenal character development, Marvin is a prime example of1) how preconceptions and socially accepted constrains on such concepts ofmasculinity and family and happiness can lead to one’s own undoing and misery,and 2) how the AIDS crisis didn’t discriminate between “good” and “bad” peopleand that “deserve” has nothing to do with it.

[thebibliosphere]

I just got unfollowed by a mutual because I reblogged a post saying I supported poly ppl and that poly ppl are valid and they made their own post quoting it with the tag "y'all really wanna be oppressed and pretend polyamory isn't made to control women" like... nothing in the post said poly ppl are oppressed just that they're valid and I didn't even wanna touch the second part. It really bothered me and I guess I've just been looking for an excuse to unfollow them so that was the silver lining.

Sorry to vent at you, I just... I've been thinking about it all night now and it just bothers me how people will go out of their way to be rude when there's really nothing to be rude about ya know? Like how is it offensive to say I support ppl who ID as poly? Or that they are valid if they do? I'm sure polyamory has been used to control women at some point in history, but that doesn't make ppl who ID as that any less valid right?

I think your former mutual, is mistaking polyamory for bigamy (or possibly even swinging), or just has a very skewed view of what polyamory actually is and is looking at it through the socialized norm of monogamy, which lets face it, is an institution which has been used to oppress women since ooooh, a very long time indeed. 

So if that is indeed their way of thinking: monogamy is a toxic societal trend with no place in a a moral society that aims to treat women equally. (I am not saying that it is, merely that if I follow through on their argument this is the only logical conclusion I can come to.)

I wouldn’t let it bother you too much. They are clearly coming at it from a perspective by someone who has been hurt, either by a cheater claiming to be poly, or from another bad experience. But it’s not your place to try and make them believe that poly can be and often is just a healthy as most monogamous relations, if not often more so because of the emphasis on clear and honest communication needed in order to sustain something like polyamory, which sounds ridiculous because that should also be an emphasized feature of monogamy—and sometimes it is!—but speaking as a female in a monogamous relationship with a male, the advice I usually get from other women in similar circumstances is wholly toxic, with emphasis on passive communication and a seeming resignation that their frustrations have no good outcome because that’s just the way men are. Which is some heteronormative bullshit.

Oh sure you’ll always have the manipulative fucker who claims men aren’t men to be with one partner and use it as an excuse to cheat, and I am sure polyamory has proved useful to their argument. But then what they are doing isn’t polyamory as polyamory comes from a mutual agreement that hey, I would like to have relations with more than one person, you would like to have relations with more than one person, lets be rational about this and talk about it and do this thing together, or not! As the case may be :)

So yea...I’d say sorry for the lost mutual, but it seems like their opinion wasn’t worth having in the first place, so enjoy your new slightly less toxic dash I guess?

[axe-of-ender-moved]

I wholeheartedly agree with all of your points here. I have been a part of both the DNF and cbeeduo sides of the mcyt/dsmp fandom, and I respect both sides of the community— this is coming not from a place of hate.

I feel like the only way to fix this is for people individually to try to overcome internalized homophobia/the hetero-normative societal boundaries they have been raised with. (Because even if you were raised by queer parents or guardians, heteronormativity is everywhere. Our society loves it. I could go more into depth on where this came from, but that’s an entirely different post.)

The heteronormative and allosexual-normative(?) society we were likely raised amongst isn’t easy to overcome mentally. And when you see two characters in a relationship and you can fit them into a male + female box, people jump for that opportunity. Maybe it’s because it’s easier for people to make that content, because these labels and descriptions are preset: the feminine, weak, submissive one, versus the strong, masculine, dominating other. When you get two very diverse, non-heteronormative fitting characters, people actually have to structure their relationship and think about it— because it’s unique. You can’t just put them into labels/frames already provided (and enforced) in many forms of media and society.

The point(s) about c!beeduo is really good. I joined this side of the fandom and saw the huge amounts of (unnecessary) discourse about /r or /p portrayals. And I feel like people aren’t sure how to portray or interpret a gay relationship without sexualizing it. I’m guessing it’s because people who wish to follow (admittedly vague) boundaries don’t know how the draw the line between romantic relationships and sexual relationships.

(Also, there aren’t really any popular teenaged confirmed wlw relationships in dsmp canon or mcyt— not to the popularity of DNF of cbeeduo, so I can’t compare how the fandom perceives gay men versus gay women. But there is a problem in general about the fetishization/sexualization of gay men, just in general, so I suppose we can keep that in mind when thinking about this.)

So- I’m not sure. There’s not really much individuals can do within the community to help others other than providing accurate representation and talking about the issues (like we are now). The reason these things exist are too deeply rooted in our society for us to overturn overnight, in a week, in a month. Within just our community, the solution is mostly individual work, one that the individual members of our fandom have to figure out on their own. A lot of them won’t, and that’s nothing you can do about— you are not responsible or should worry that much about someone else’s life. If the differing views on these things bother you, for your own mental health, I would just advise to stay away from avoid interacting with groups of the fandom you disagree with.

Hmmm this post may upset people. Should I make it.

[setabane]

THE QUEER YOUTH OF BOTSWANA AND THEIR SUBVERSION OF HETERONORMATIVE SOCIETAL CULTURE

Words: Cassim Cassim

Over the past decades, queer people had to bridge themselves to the real world by elevating themselves to be seen. Steadily, what once was unprecedented becomes the new norm, the introduction and awareness of sexualities, gender, pronouns and everything in between becomes the new norm, and with the help of GenZ, centennials in Botswana become advocates and instigators for what needs to be, and subvert what is imbedded in the minds of Batswana. SETABANE had the privilege to interview 8 centennials that are challenging Botswana’s society and taking it by storm. 

As an Editor, it brings immense satisfaction and jubilation to realize that behind the old generation follows a generation that will carry a legacy that will have every entity equal and seen. The decision to publish this campaign comes after the chain of discern that GenZ carries most of the societal standards and culture Botswana obeys. These are the people who will lead this country into equality and queer pride.

Thebe 17, he/him, queer How do you contribute towards dismantling traditions and views against being queer in Botswana?

In Botswana, I honestly feel we have a huge problem with following what had been the norm for ages and I believe that I put great interest into expressing myself regardless of my gender, background etc. I normally present this through the art of acting, it’s my greatest passion.

Tell me your views on fem-phobia within the queer community in Botswana?

It’s a tragedy that even within our own community we bring down our own, I feel that it’s a thing of retrospecting what we have and can achieve as a community united rather than discriminating against each other. It could take us very far.

What do you think about Botswana’s gay culture?

I still think that we’re growing but what we have is beautiful and will surely blossom into something more beautiful, we’re very unique and i can’t wait till everyone in Botswana can see who exactly we are.

Leilani 16, she/her, bisexual

How is it navigating yourself as a young bisexual woman?

As a young bisexual women navigating myself as an individual is difficult because I have been told that i am confused because society is fixed on life only being one way, which therefore puts me in a situation whereby i think i’m confused or “going through a phase”. Being Bisexual has taught me to enjoy the best of both worlds and taught me to balance two different worlds.

What are your thoughts on the fetishization of bisexuality in women?

It needs to stop because being bisexual should not make you think we are your objects and you can toy around with us. The way media portrays bisexual women as confused or that we are not taken seriously but being bisexual is real and we are not toys. One thing that I personally think people lack education about Bisexuality.

What do you think Botswana’s youth has in common?

Botswana’s youth has somewhat a sense of acceptance to an extent and are free to do whatever makes them feel happy and not caring what so and so has to say.

What is your advice for a young Queer Motswana reading this? My advice to young/old queer Motswana is take your time when finding your sexuality, don’t be afraid to experiment but at the same time don’t use us as objects. If you are afraid, there is a whole community of people who have their arms open to support you and take your time.

Peaches 18, she/her, pansexual

How has your sexuality affected your way of living?

I have tried to come out to my parents before but it did not go well. My parents were considering kicking me out of the house because they wanted a "normal daughter". I had to tell them I was lying in order to keep a roof over my head. I can only be myself when I'm at school, because there, no one really cares what you do. But with my family, I have to hide who I am.

What are some of the glories and hardships being a Queer woman in Botswana?

I have not had a lot of glories but one I can mention is finally figuring out who I am, where I'm from, and where I'm headed, and coming to terms with it. Accepting myself. I feel this is the most important step, loving yourself. No one is gonna do it for you so do what makes you happy. The hardest thing for me to do was to hide my sexuality from my family. It's very scary to fear what other people think and then also have to deal with judgements from your own family. It hurts how I have to smile like I'm okay even when I'm not. For some reason, queers think they need the validation and acceptance of society in order to live freely but the truth is we don't. We submit ourselves to opinions of people we do not even need. Why? Do you think Botswana will be a battleground or a safe haven for queer people in the future? I personally think Botswana will forever be a battleground for queer people. I say this because we hate against each other within the queer community, so why would we expect outsiders to accept us if we can't do the same with each other? Also, we are forever told how "wrong" or "lost" we are for being who we are. Everyone will always be entitled to their opinion, it's either you listen to it and be miserable or just don't care and do you. Be You Do You For You

Son 17, they/them, polysexual

How does being queer and in love feel in Botswana

On one hand it can feel a bit scary as Botswana is still a bit behind on the progression towards accepting queer folk. We can never be sure that the people around us will be natural and calm rather than be queer-phobic and violent. it doesn’t always feel safe to physically express this love in public. However, when we are in a safe space, expressing our love for each-other comes easily.

What are your experiences living outside of the Binary?

Honestly, hardly any different from when I thought I did fit into the binary. I do not feel any connection to the binary in regards to my gender identity, and never have, so putting a label on what I feel didn't really change much aside from allowing myself to achieve deeper self understanding. The way the people around me perceived me barely changed either. I'm used to people making assumptions about my gender identity based on my gender presentation, and while I'm glad I haven't encountered any blatant transphobes, people’s assumptions do sometimes make me feel uncomfortable.

Who are some of your inspirations and role models?

BTS, artists who are unafraid to talk about social issues, equality, injustice and self love, Amandla Stenberg, who played a huge role in the discovery of my gender identity, and a poet I came across recently who goes by the pen name tireless_hope, whose work i’m simply in love with. They’re all young artists who have achieved so much but still show so much humanness within them. They don't try to appeal to what people expect of them but rather what they want for themselves, and consuming these people’s art always fills me with a zeal for life

What do you think about the erasure of non-binary people?

In a way it hurts, to exist in a society that treats us like we are invisible and refuses to let us voice out on matters regarding our identities and trans identities in general because we are supposedly non-existent. It’s upsetting that identities that have always been around are getting passed off as “strange”,  “new” and even “non-existent” by cis-het people, and even some LGBTQ+ folk. It’s especially upsetting to me when POC take part in non-binary erasure because it is based heavily in eurocentrism and only benefits the oppressor. Hopefully with the spread of knowledge people will open their minds and educate themselves to prevent this from happening.

Bynx 17, he/they, panromantic grey-asexual

What are your thoughts on the gender binary?

Personally, I think a strict gender binary isn't really necessary. I can understand when people say it's needed in terms of the medical field - but again, that's not much help when women constantly go without getting adequate medical treatment because of gender discrimination but that's a whole other can of worms to open. i feel like a lot of people forget the gender binary was only really brought on after colonialism. there's a lot of sources that confirm that many African tribes as well as Native American ones believed in other-gender and two-spirit people, and its sad to see when people from these cultures talk about going back to their roots or preserving culture yet they want to erase the existence of queer people. even when people hear things being said like 'gender is a social construct', they think we're just trying to push an agenda - but do they really understand what a social construct is? not too long ago, i saw this post from Tumblr user biggest-gaudiest-patronuses where they talked about how a social construct really just means it's something that the big people in charge can move around and change to suit their own preferences and beliefs and ignore the communities that these constructs are actively causing problems for. people are just scared of change when it comes to things like this, they see it as a threat to their comfort but with our change and without moving out of your comfort zone, how will you ever achieve growth? People who live outside the binary just want to be their authentic selves and be accepted and people shouldn't be threatened by that.

What is your experience being a trans-masc person in Botswana?

So far I haven't really encountered any problems bringing a trans-masc person in Botswana and I think that's mostly related to how accepting the people immediately closest to me are as well as how comfortable I am in my own identity. i get misgendered quite frequently but being misgendered by strangers doesn't bother me at all because i know how they perceive me doesn't matter because they don't know me. i notice when people close to me misgender me but it's not something that'll bother me because i know it's still a learning process for them and they're always considerate enough to correct themselves afterwards, it's also not something that bothers me because i know that they're aware of my identity and they'll respect it. it can become a bit of a tough spot when it comes to people that im not close to but acquainted with because i don't really care much for their personal opinions since they aren't closely related to my life but it still flares up some gender dysphoria when they continue to use my deadname or refer to me as she/her - which is usually pronouns im only really comfortable with close people calling me by - and i guess it bothers me because they're aware of who i am and they've directly asked people close to me about my name and such yet they continue to misgender me and i feel really disrespected by it. i'm not very concerned with passing since i already know who i am but sometimes the fear of being outed does worry me in terms of my actual physical safety because i know there's people who react violently to trans people - on the opposite side of the coin, there are days i do wish i was passing and it's usually when im out in public and it's just my partner and i and we have to take things like public transport because my biggest fear is always putting my partner in danger because there's usually no avoiding being perceived as an lgbtqia+ couple which can end up putting a target on us. i will admit though that i wish Botswana did allow medical transitioning here because then it'd make a lot of things accessible to many trans people in the country as they wouldn't have to go elsewhere for hrt and surgery - like currently i have to save upward of P100 000 just for top surgery alone without including travel costs, hrt and doctor appointments fees which is a major obstacle for not only me but other people who don't have the type of income to support that either.

Who are some of the queer trans artists you look up to?

i'll be honest, i don't really know a lot of queer/trans artists since i don't consume a lot of big media 💀 i might know and admire some but since i don't really consume a lot of their content, i can't really confidently say im a huge fan. though there are very few that i do look up to they're mostly YouTubers since that's where i spend a lot of my time. in terms of queer actors though, id say Sir Ian McKellen is probably my biggest inspiration not only because of the big roles he's played while being an openly gay man but also because of the actions he's taken to support the queer and theater communities (theater being something else that im very passionate about). with trans YouTubers; Jammidodger(transguy), Ash Hardell(trans-enby) and Samantha Lux(transgirl) have been a huge help in my personal journey in finding out more about my identity and myself as well as just being really fun YouTubers  to watch. i really liked hearing out their experiences as trans/enby people and seeing the advice they had to give to other people in terms of not only surgery and hrt but with things like dressing and tips on coming out. i hope to share my experience and help other genderqueer people out the same way they did for me. one more person i look up to is someone id be bold enough to call my friend. they're an lgbtqia+ and trans rights activist in Botswana and they usually go my Phio or Blu for the time period ive known them and they've probably been one of the biggest helps in my personal journey. they were the first trans/genderqueer person id ever met back when i first started questioning my identity and i talked a lot with them about how i was feeling and trying to get comfortable with myself and they've always been there to listen, even helping me out with getting my first chest binder and they even give me tips about buying guys clothes and offering help for recommended places to go when i start transitioning. i even remember a time when they were a guest speaker on one of our local radio stations and while i couldn't tune in because i had drama practice, i remember being so excited because i felt that finally the voices of queer people were getting more recognized. I’m really glad that i have the opportunity to know them and talk to them and all the support they've extended to me is something i hope to be able to give to other queer youth that will flower after me.

Do you think Botswana is going to be led by pioneers such as yourself soon into a better future soon?

i'm not too well-versed on things like current affairs so i won't say much on this but a lot of change and acceptance has to happen in terms of the older generation and things like following tradition but i do believe that we might see a lot of change in the future. while it might take us a while to get to the point of queer people being elected into government positions, i believe our voices are starting to be heard. Just because decriminalization has happened doesn't mean it's time for us to relax, it's time for us to push for more change, we'll make strides together as a community.

What is your advice for a young queer Motswana reading this?

honestly guys, don't rush yourselves. take things one step at a time. it's okay to not know your identity, it's okay for it to change, it's okay to question who you are. even if you don't manage to figure out what your identity is, it's still okay. just love whoever you want to love and love how you want to live. as long as it's not hurting you or others, it's all valid. keep your chin up. I know it can be tough. but believe me, there's always gonna be people out there that love you for who you are and that's all that really matters.

Wapula 17, she/they, pansexual

Do you think Batswana are more inclusive of pansexuality?

I guess people aren’t as educated about pansexuality as much, there are so many misconceptions about being pansexual.

“Do pansexuals feel sexually attracted to animals”

“Are pansexuals normally in polygamous marriages” & so much more, I guess these questions come from the fact that as a pansexual we’re more attracted to the person, not their gender or sexuality, so people would instantly think we prefer to be in polygamous marriages, you know?

How do you navigate your life as a pansexual person in Botswana?

It’s extremely rare to find a pansexual in Botswana, so I wound by say it’s a lifestyle you know, I’ve always been one person that’s open about my sexuality & I’ve never felt the need to “come out”, of course there’s a lot of homophobia but it doesn’t affect me as much as it affects other queer individuals & that’s simply because I’ve just always been open about it you know?

Do you believe in gender?

I just think gender is a mindset, the thought of having to separate humanity based on our biological features is just stupid to me, the creation of “gender��� is what leads to so many problems that we face as humanity today... being sexism & GBV & so many issues. People confuse gender & sexuality. Sexuality is broad, gender is just a mindset that is used to separate us based on our biological features.

Loago 16, she/her, demisexual

When did you first embrace the concept of demisexuality? And is it inclusive to anyone?

I first embraced the concept of demisexuality after seeing my best friends being able to grow out of their shell and be comfortable with their true self, with no fear of being judged. It was an inspiring thing for me because I don’t talk about my sexuality as much and I’ve received comments from straight guys that my sexuality is simply me trying to fit in with the crowd...most people confuse demisexuality for being bisexual but there’s a difference...I only see someone and I mean in the spiritual and emotional sense if i have an emotional connection with them, I don’t find people attractive unless i get a glimpse of their inner self and i connect with them on that level. I also do feel that maybe the trauma I’ve experienced has influenced this because it made me realize the importance of knowing and seeing someone behind all the masks they portray to the outside world and connecting with them spiritually when pursuing a relationship with them...

What do you think about the love scenes in Botswana’s youth scene?

I think majority of youth is lost when it comes to the perception of love I also blame tradition because the sad truth is that  most of us come from dysfunctional or rather ‘special’ families and this is where we see a lot of abuse be it coming from the man or woman and especially in this country we have normalized this vicious cycle of ‘special’ families and it’s contributed to how a lot of us perceive love, we tell ourselves that in order for us to believe that we are loved or we love someone we must’ve put them through something or they must’ve put us through something because the impression most of us have , having seen our parents or relatives do this... and unfortunately unlike now in today’s world back in the day it was some what a taboo to end your marriage or ‘break’ your family that you’ve built with someone and hence why most marriages even despite the abuse still exist. I believe this is what influences the youth love scenes in Botswana, to undo this I believe we need to stop we need to stop cheating I love marriage sexuality as a taboo in this country, parents need to start having conversations with their children to help them understand what genuine love is and that love between heterosexual people and queer people is no different and we are all deserving of genuine love.

Kago 19, he/they, bisexual

What’s one thing your generation has in common?

I really believe my generation right now is a very liberated one and connected one. We really are about community and uplifting each other. We are together in these safe spaces, uplifting each other and respecting each other for who we really are uno.

Do you attach your sexuality to what you love doing?

Not actively, but when I get to working I'd like to think I work out of a unique place where my identity comes out as a product of that. So my sexuality does subconsciously become a part of my work.

How do you feel about bi-erasure and pan-erasure in men?

It's a frustrating struggle to be continuously fighting. Especially when the erasure comes from within the LGBTQ+ community. You start to ask yourself where you can feel safe if not in your own community uno.

Do you think you fully express your sexuality to others?

Fully? Not yet. Well probably not actively, but I know surely you must know my sexuality after a few conversations with me. It's a part of me that can not escape me so it is at the front line of my social interactions.

What contributed to helping you understand your sexuality?

Growing up around very open-minded people. This gave me the freedom to, once i started realizing i was bisexual, be comfortable to ask questions about it and be as curious as i needed until i realized that hell yeah i am bisexual uno.

Credits: 

Editor: @cxsside 

Art Director: @cxsside & @bbypumpkiiiin_ 

Models : @thebes.world @amor.leilani@son.yea @bynx.y@loago.m@wapsworldwide @archhangel 

Stylists + Wardrobe:@archhangel @_glotto @unearthlygofaone @bluuu.rraine_

Photographers:@vandeaarde @vandeaarde.gallery@wenz_hd

[lavender-lotion]

Do you take prompts? It's my birthday tomorrow and I've always loved your work and I would love a stetopher fic where it's stiles birthday but his dad doesn't really like peter/chris but they want to help him celebrate anyway

Happy Birthday, Baby | 2,277k

John isn’t a fan of his sons ‘husbands’. Peter is trying his best to keep it all a secret. Stiles is suspicious - and absolutely not paranoid. Chris is just in love.

Read it on AO3 here!Read the rest of the series here!

“I don’t like either of you,” John began, barreling on when he saw Peter Hale’s affronted face, “But, but I recognize the fact that you love my son, and while I may not agree, I respect your devotion to him.”

It was a far cry from what he had told his son when they’d first come to John. To Stiles he had been supportive, offering the acceptance he knew his son needed. However, there was no need for him to lie directly to these two men, and although he had made his opinion clear in the past John wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to remind them how he felt.

Argent nodded steadily, face as blank and stoic as usual and it made John uneasy. He had a particular talent for reading people, always had and the skill had come in more than handy during his years of duty. But Christopher - Christopher was impossible to get a read on. Nothing he felt ever showed on his face and it worked to fester the distrust John already felt.

“That being said, Parrish nor I have any hangups with putting you both down.” he said seriously. Sheriff or not, no one was going to hurt his little boy - even if Stiles was turning twenty three and had reached his height years ago. He would always see him as the small thing that curled up between he and his late wife, falling asleep more often that not. John could still remember all the nights he had carried his son up to bed, his boy cradled to his chest and it didn’t matter how big or how old Stiles got - he would always be John’s son and he would always do his best to protect him.

If that mean threatening the boys ‘husbands’, well.

Planning the party wasn’t hard - though keeping it from Stiles was. Peter had always known his boy to be brilliant, even from the first time they met. He had seen something in the younger man, something that interested him. Of course he hadn’t expected anything to come from his idle flirting, either.

It was Chris who had come to Peter about Stiles, had brought up the other boy up in any way. Of course Peter was aware that both he and Chris  went to the same coffee shop, however he never would have guessed they were both infatuated with the same barista. It made sense that their interests would be similar, after spending so many years together, but Peter wouldn’t have ever thought Chris would be the one to suggest bringing someone into their relationship.

Chris had always been so uptight. Peter knew it was a product of his upbringing, and although he teased the man he respected the way Chris behaved, the nuisances his husband had. So offering to bring Stiles into the mix was not something he would think his husband to do. Though they had done so and although neither Chris nor Peter expected to fall in love, neither were upset when they did.

Well, at least not after they realized they were on the same page. So they had courted Stiles, caught up in the boys brilliance. And they had never gone back, never questioned the boys place in their lives. Now, it had been years since that first confession in the coffee shop and it seemed like it was a lifetime ago. Their boy - far more of a man now - was turning twentythree and they had been together for nearly four years.

When Peter thought about it like that, four years didn’t seem long enough. It just didn’t seem possible that all the memories they had made, the experiences they shared together could have all happened in such a short span of years. They had built a life together, lived together, and had for some time. And sure, maybe their relationship had progressed rather quickly - he could admit that - but it wasn’t like their relationship followed any societal norms.

However, living together meant lying to Stiles was - difficult, to say the least. It wasn’t as though Peter was in the habit of lying to his youngest husband, either of his husbands really, but desperate times and all that. The problem with living with Stiles was simple; the boy had grown up with a Sheriff for a father. He was far too clever, even for someone as smart as Peter, to easily hide things from.

He kept all the important paperwork at his office, filing them away in the back of cabinets or under piles and piles of other papers. All the communication he made was done with his work phone or with a new email he had created specifically for the event. He made sure he refilled the tank in his car if he ever drove more than usual though it was often easier to walk during his lunch break, just to be safe. He did his best to keep everything as well hidden from Stiles as he could.

It made it difficult to plan a surprise when hiding anything from his husband was near impossible. It didn’t help that Chris wasn’t exactly subtle, either. Of course the man was trying, but aside from stoic silence he wasn’t exactly great at keeping things secret. The problem with his stoic silence was it was so obvious, and the fact that Chris cited a headache for nearly two weeks made it even more so.

Peter sighed. He would have to distract Stiles somehow, lead him off their scent in case the boy actually was getting suspicious. Hmm, maybe a few good orgasms would be enough to keep the boys mind busy.

Stiles wouldn’t say he was paranoid. Really, he didn’t think himself to be overreacting. It was just, he knew he was being lied to. He wasn’t an idiot, was far from stupid. It didn’t matter what others thought of him, he was smart, and yeah sometimes that wasn’t glaringly obvious, but it wasn’t his fault his brain often moved too fast.

He had always been good at reading people, at seeing what others tried to hide. He figured it was something that came with being a Sheriff’s son, essentially growing up in a police station. He knew how people acted when they were lying, when they were being honest. He could sniff out deceit with relative ease, had been able to for years now.

So he knew that something was up. It wasn’t just Chris’ silence or how much Peter was suddenly working. It wasn’t how Chris avoided coming to bed before Stiles was asleep, waiting and waiting and waiting until the younger man had to go to bed, then waiting more until Stiles finally drifted off. Hell, Stiles had tried waiting up and Chris had just never entered their bedroom.

Sure, the man cited work - explained it away as being busy and unable to stop but Stiles - well, he wasn’t stupid. Then there was Peter who was acting much the opposite. Yes the man was suddenly working longer hours but when he came home he focused all his attention on Stiles, pulling the attention on himself in turn. Peter took him out, cooked with him, spent far more time in Stiles’ space that he ever had before.

He was also fairly sure his dad was in on it, knew the other man didn’t work nearly as much as he once did and it didn’t make sense for his dad to suddenly be working crazy shifts again. His dad was always ready for a visit, readily invited Stiles back into his space but lately he had been selective with the time they spent together. He complained when Stiles just barged into his office, or dropped by his dad’s house - things that had never bothered the man before.

There was something going on - Stiles was sure of it.

It was suspicious. He had no idea what could be causing either man to act so strange, why they were being so weird. But he knew he wasn’t paranoid, no matter what his research was pulling up. It wasn’t like Stiles didn’t trust his husbands - well, not exactly. He didn’t think they were doing anything bad, per say, but he couldn’t stop feeling uneasy.

Stiles had tried to figure out what it could be. He would shamelessly admit to going through both man’s phone - he had never realized Chris took so many photos of Stiles and Peter cuddling together - and their emails. He looked through call history, bank history. Just - just nothing strange was coming up. He had dug into it about as much as he could and he just couldn’t find anything.

And he was starting to worry. He was trying to tell himself that it wasn’t a big deal, trying to convince himself that he couldn’t find anything because nothing was actually wrong. But Peter and Chris had been acting so strange, each in their own sure, but strange nonetheless. Maybe - maybe they were having a delayed freak out about moving? Or, or maybe regretting their decision?

Stiles cut that thought off fast. He wasn’t stupid enough to fall into his insecurities, especially as he looked down at the rings on his finger. He wasn’t about to start doubting his husbands, something just wasn’t sitting right and he didn’t know how to go about finding out what it was.

He - he wasn’t going to ask them, either. No, that would be far too simple and they didn’t know he was already onto him and it was far better that way. There was a higher chance of them slipping up if they weren’t aware that they needed to be extra cautious. So he waited it out. He spent another week watching, observing. He refused to let himself do anything as extreme as stalk his husbands - he also vetoed the idea of bugging them - and instead let time work it’s course.

And it did. The morning of his birthday he found himself awoken with a blowjob and a cupcake - not at the same time, of course - both his husband curling around him and submitting to Stiles’ wishes of long cuddles. They had finally made their way out of bed, Peter urging Stiles to make himself presentable for dinner with his father.

It was just something else to add to Peter’s ’suspect behavior’ list. But he had, donning pressed jeans and a button up to appease the man and had piled into the back of their car for the short drive. He was surprised to see his father’s street littered with cars, even more surprised when he recognized a few. What would - oh.

Stiles eyes widened as it clicked into place. The secrets and the suspicious behaviour was for this, for him! He smiled and leaned into the front seat once Peter parked, pressing a long kiss to Peter’s lips before turning, pulling Chris into one for even longer.

“Thank you,” he mumbled, leaning back into his seat with a wide smile.

Chris looked around the backyard. Streamers were hung high along the branches, fairy lights twined with them. There were hanging lanterns providing extra light now that the sun had finally set, leaving the moon bright in the sky. It wasn’t full but the sky was near cloudless and the yard was bathed in soft light. The April night was cool, spring fully in season as nature bloomed around them.

It was calm and the quiet hum of conversation was following the astophere that nature had created. A few of the guests had already left, Boyd and Erica leaving with their son and a few others with kids ducking out hours earlier, though a few other people who Stiles had been friendly with during high school were still around. Peter’s sister and her family - accompanied by Derek and Cora - had also yet to leave.

Chris hadn’t invited his own family for obvious reasons, but it was nice to see the few Hales that had shown up. There was the Sheriff speaking lowly and standing just a little too close with a younger deputy, a few other long-standing officers spread out along the yard. Stiles’ Babcia was sat in the same lawn chair she had been the whole night and Chris was fairly sure the woman was now asleep.

Soft music was still playing from the speakers they had set up and Chris looked over the yard to find Peter and Stiles tangled together, swaying softly. His heart swelled with affection and he was once again struck by just how lucky he was. He never thought he would have this, could be so happy.

Finding Peter had been a miracle of itself and creating their life together had been more than Chris could have imagined for himself. But now they had Stiles, there was one more person who loved Chris wholly, whom he loved the same in turn. He never would have pictured this life for himself, but standing in his ‘father-in-law’s’ backyard and watching the two men he loved with everything he was, it felt like his heart was too big for his chest.

He watched as Stiles unwrapped himself from Peter, a long lingering kiss shared between the two before Stiles turned toward him, smile soft and eyes light with affection.

“Come dance with me,” Stiles said, voice soft as he tugged Chris by the hand, pulling him into the middle of the yard and tugging him close. Chris wrapped himself around the Stiles, holding him tight and swaying with the music.

“I love you,” Stiles whispered into his ear. 

“Happy Birthday, baby.” Chris said softly, and he pressed a long kiss to the boys temple.

[tinylilemrys]

The Gift of Choice (3/4)

Read it on AO3

Rating: T || Pairing: Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

Summary: Neither Alec nor Magnus is particularly thrilled at the discovery of their soul marks. Alec because he knows that the design of it means that his soulmate is a Downworlder, something practically unheard of in Shadowhunter society. For Magnus, the idea of being permanently attached to a joyless demon-killer is hardly a thrill. Given that they can choose if they accept their soulmate or not, the decision seems like a no-brainer.

But when Alec finally meets the beautiful, other-worldly Magnus and Magnus meets the gorgeous, self-sacrificing Alec, it becomes clear that the decision might not be as easy as they thought it would be.

CHAPTERS: ONE || TWO

CHAPTER THREE

“Cream or sugar?”

Alec’s eyes snap open at the tinkling sound of a tray being set down.

His heart races, the pulse of it matching the painful throbbing in his temples, and his mouth feels dry and ashy like he’s swallowed sawdust. Light is streaming in from large windows beside him and he squints as he sits up.

He’s not at the Institute.

The last time woke up somewhere that wasn’t the Institute was when he was a child, before Jace came to live with them, when his mother and father had brought Isabelle and him with them on a short diplomatic visit. Even though at the time he was fascinated by how different the Buenos Aires Institute was to theirs, now blinking blearily out at what he’s slowly remembering as Magnus Bane’s apartment, he realises that the differences between the two Institutes weren’t that great after all. This bright, airy room with its trendy furnishings and exposed brick is a far cry from the cold stone and dim light that both Institutes had sported.

He’s not sure if the horrible roiling of his stomach is the alcohol, or anxiety at what his parents would think if they found out that he’d spent the night in a Downworlder’s lair.

“Did I fall asleep?” he asks, not really knowing what else to say. Magnus is barely two feet away from him and he can feel that strange electricity – Magnus’ magic – crackling between them again.

“We both did,” he replies as he sits down next to him. Alec feels a fleeting need to stand up, to put as much distance between them as possible, but it’s quickly overwhelmed by the much stronger desire to bask in the strange force between them. He stays, but tries to lean as far from Magnus as he can without it looking like that’s what he’s doing. Sensing Alec’s discomfort though, Magnus adds, “On separate couches. Don’t worry.”

“Oh,” says Alec, staring at the vase of pink roses on the table in front of him, wondering if it was there the night before. He can’t remember it being there the night before.

But then, he was slightly distracted last night.

Though he can’t remember much after the third or fourth cocktail Magnus made, he clearly remembers the events before that: the powerful connection between them as Alec had shared his energy with Magnus, the giddy thrill of pressing a kiss to the Warlock’s forehead, the heart-stopping brush of their lips a few moments later, the mingled disappointment and relief when his phone had interrupted them.

And then there was Magnus asking him to stay for one more drink, then another and another until the room span and conversation flowed effortlessly between them. He wasn’t sure how much of it was down to the alcohol and how much of it was down to the disarming manner of the Warlock on the other end of the couch.

“Your defences seem to have slipped a bit,” says Magnus after a few moments of awkward silence, startling Alec from his jumbled thoughts. He glances at Magnus, expecting to meet his eyes, but the Warlock is looking at Alec’s knees where a small sliver of brilliant white light is shining through the dark fabric of his jeans. His bandages must have slid down his leg as he slept. He glances at Magnus’ knee where his mark is also forcing its light through the weave of his jeans, but the fact that it is showing doesn’t seem to bother Magnus. He regards Alec for a moment before speaking again. “How much do you actually understand about this situation, Alexander?”

“A bit, most of it from stories my tutor told us as kids,” Alec replied. “You know, that the Angel shows you when you find the person you’re supposed to be with forever by marking you both with the Destiny Rune on corresponding parts of your body, but that sometimes the person the Angel chooses for you is a Downworlder and then you get your mark long before you meet them as a warning. My mother always said they were just stories, but,” he gestures to his and Magnus’ knees, “apparently not.”

“Oh Maryse,” Magnus sighs and Alec is temporarily taken aback by the fact that Magnus seems to know his mother’s name. He doesn’t think he’s ever mentioned his parents by name, but then, they were the leaders of the New York Institute and Magnus was the High Warlock of Brooklyn. They probably knew Magnus better than Alec did.

“Well, you seem to know some of the mechanics of it, but there’s a lot more to it than that. You obviously know about the glowing that indicates how close you are to meeting your Fated? Witchlight means that both the Shadowhunter and Downworlder have acknowledged that they share their mark. You and I both acknowledge that this is what the Angel wills.”

“Magnus, I –“

“I don’t think that you know that you have a choice, though. See, your Angel recognises that this is a difficult path for a Shadowhunter and Downworlder to follow, so if either feels as though they would rather not take the risk, they can choose not to pursue it. If either the Shadowhunter or Downworlder refuses the bond, the marks disappear and life goes back to the way it was before.”

Alec is surprised at the relief that fills him at Magnus’ words. He was so sure that there was no escaping this – that even if he ignored his confusing feelings for Magnus and followed his parents’ wishes to marry a good Shadowhunter girl, the mark would always be there, reminding him that he was living a lie, reminding him that he was destined to be connected to the Downworld. The fact that he can decide against it, that it could disappear and he could live a relatively normal life is an unexpected and welcome surprise.

But then he looks at Magnus again and his thoughts stop in their tracks. He remembers how beautiful and right it felt to have his arms roped around him, how perfectly Magnus fit there. He thinks about how Magnus takes him at face value, but also seems to always look deeper to what’s underneath. How Magnus never makes him feel like he has anything to prove and yet, how Alec wants to prove himself anyway.

Would it really be that easy to give all that up?

It feels like all the air has left the room and Alec finds it suddenly difficult to breathe. He needs to leave. He needs space and time to think and it’s impossible to do with Magnus right there, looking at him so sincerely with that young, almost innocent face and old, unfathomably wise eyes.

He springs from the couch to get his jacket, his stomach lurching violently as he does, but he manages to keep it together. Just.

“God, I should have never taken you up on your offer for drinks,” Alec groans, shrugging on his jacket as gently as he can.

“In hindsight, liquor might have been a bad idea after being drained of all my magic to heal your friend, Luke,” Magnus replies, and Alec is sure he’s not imagining the testiness in his tone.

“Not my friend,” he says, striding towards the door. “He’s Clary Fairchild’s. I’ve only known her five days and she’s already more trouble than she’s worth.”

Magnus’ eyes scan him in a calculated way as if working out how to unravel a stubborn knot, and Alec feels strangely exposed. He’s so used to being transparent – to having people’s gaze flit quickly over him to settle on Isabelle or Jace. Magnus, however, makes him feel completely opaque – as if his entire field of vision stops at Alec. As if, sometimes, nothing else exists. It sends an involuntary thrill down Alec’s spine.

“Alexander,” Magnus eventually says in a gentle but firm voice that reminds Alec that he’s actually speaking to the High Warlock of Brooklyn, “I understand that this situation can’t be easy for you. I know that you have feelings for someone else and duties as a leader and societal norms to live up to, so I completely understand if you’re not up to all of whatever this is. Whatever your decision, I will accept it. Provided, however, that you do me one favour.”

“Okay?” Alec replies, his voice strangely hoarse.

“I only ask that you take time to really think about it before you make your decision. I’ve taken time to thoughtfully consider my feelings on the matter, so I expect the same courtesy from you. Whatever you choose is final and affects both of us so I would ask that, as far as possible, you try to make sure that you understand your heart, what it is that you want and why you want it. Maybe try not to be the selfless hero on this one.”

Alec doesn’t know what to respond to that. He honestly doesn’t know at this point if it would be more selfish to choose Magnus or not to choose him. And how is he supposed to understand his heart when everything he’s ever felt or known his whole life has been completely upended in less than a week?

He needs to get back to the Institute. He needs logic and familiarity, to be somewhere where the air isn’t full of the scent of coffee and roses and citrusy cologne. He needs the world to make sense again.

“What time is it? I need to get back to the institute,” he informs Magnus as he takes a step towards the door, choosing to change the subject rather than to acknowledge his request.

“Stay for breakfast,” Magnus blurts out suddenly as if the previous conversation didn’t happen. “Or at least a hangover cure? I brew a mean hair-of-the-dog potion.”

“When you say hair-of-the-dog,” says Alec, unable to suppress his curiosity, “that’s not literal, is it? It’s not full of, I don’t know, Werewolf hair or something like that, right?”

“It might be more than a little bit literal,” Magnus replies with a sheepish grin.

“In that case, I think I’ll pass.” Alec can’t help the smile that tugs at the corners of his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he forces himself to look Magnus in the eyes again. “Don’t tell anyone I stayed here last night, alright? If anyone finds out, I –“

“Relax.” Magnus rolls his eyes. “My reputation is just as much on the line as yours. Things aren’t exactly cosy between the Nephilim and my kind at the moment.”

“Why’d you let me sleep here then?” asks Alec.

“Because, Alexander Lightwood, soul-mark or not, I find that I quite enjoy the time I spend with you. Call me crazy.”

“You must be,” says Alec, smile still in place as he leaves Magnus’ apartment.

Alec’s plan is to get back to the Institute and up to his room before anyone can ask him any questions about where he was last night. He’s not entirely surprised, however, that he’s caught by Isabelle almost as soon as he’s through the door.

“Slept at Magnus’ place?” she asks, her face a strange mixture of amusement and pride.

“Didn’t do much sleeping,” Alec replies. Isabelle’s eyes widen in amazement and realising how that must have sounded, he quickly adds, “I was helping treat Luke’s wounds, that’s all.”

“Really?” Her smile spreads into a gleeful smirk.

“What?” he asks as innocently as he can.

“Nothing. I believe you.”

He knows her well enough to know that she really doesn’t.

“Okay, Magnus made cocktails, but I’m telling you that nothing else happened.”

“Your lips say otherwise,” she says, gesturing to his mouth. He swipes a hand across it and upon examination, he’s horrified to find several specs of glitter shining up at him. Isabelle folds her arms. “Look, Alec, whenever you’re ready to talk about what you need to talk about, I’m here.”

“Hey, I talk to you,” says Alec indignantly.

“About everything but your personal life,” she replies. “And, you know, it’s kind of not fair because I talk to you about mine all the time. You’re the only person I can talk to about mine most of the time.”

It turns out Isabelle has broken up with Meliorn because of their parents and Alec take this as a sign that the hunt for their spouses has started in earnest. The mark just below his sister’s ribs means that she’s not destined to be with a Shadowhunter man though, and when he brings it up she shudders.

“I texted Magnus about it and he says that the shape of my mark means that my Fated is a Vamp. It hasn’t started glowing yet, so my first thought was that the other day at the Hotel Dumort it might have been one of the Vamps we killed, but apparently the mark disappears if your fated dies. Still, it made me realise that maybe it’s stupid to worry about falling in love with a Downworlder when everything between our people is so strained at the moment.”

Alec’s heart constricts painfully. The thing he’s always admired the most about his little sister is her idealism and her drive to follow her heart no matter how much it goes against everything they’ve been taught. He hates that she feels like she has to suppress that to protect him. That’s what he’s supposed to be doing by sticking to the rules.

“Izzy, I realise that you’re trying to take some of the family heat and I appreciate it,” he says, “but you can’t change who you are.”

He won’t let her change. If it comes to choosing between his sister’s happiness and his, he knows hers will win every time.

Unbidden, Magnus’ words swim to the surface of Alec’s mind.

“Maybe try not to be the selfless hero on this one.”

He’s not sure he’ll have the choice.

***

In theory, Magnus spends the next day or two sending fire messages to his fellow Warlocks – reminding them again to be prepared to escape quickly and to fight to defend their covens if necessary – while also meditating to regain the last of his power. In reality, he spends the majority of his time trying to suppress the nagging fear that at any moment, Alec will choose to reject the mark to comply with the unfair societal standards demanded of him by his parents and the Clave.

He knows that what he’s feeling isn’t actually love, that after barely a week there’s no way it could be, but he also knows that he deeply cares for Alec and that losing the opportunity for that caring to maybe one day turn into love would create a chasm in his life he doesn’t think he’ll be able to ever fix.

Magnus jumps when his phone rings and his heart rate quickens when he recognises the number for the Institute. Worried that any communication with Alec might drive him closer to the Clave, he’s resisted the urge to call or text him all day. It hadn’t even occurred to him that Alec might call him. He’s about to answer the phone with a ‘Hi, Alexander’ but catches himself at the last minute. If it ends up being Maryse or Robert on the other end, he could end up making Alec’s life really difficult.

It’s just as well he answers with his usual ‘Magnus Bane?’, because it’s an unfamiliar female voice that greets him.

“Magnus Bane, you’re speaking to Lydia Branwell, Envoy from the Clave.”

“Wow, a Branwell? It’s been many years since I last had dealings with anyone by that name,” says Magnus, walking absent-mindedly to his balcony. “Any relation to Henry?”

“He’s my great-ancestor,” Lydia replies, the pride evident in her voice.

“Well, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” Magnus smiles. For a time, Henry Branwell was one of his closest friends and it’s bittersweet to have this tentative connection to him again so many years later. “How can I help you? I’m assuming this isn’t a social call.”

“We need your help in detecting if magic was used to create the creature that was sent to attack Lucian Graymark earlier today. Would you be available to assist with the autopsy?”

“I’m rather busy today,” Magnus lies, “but I suppose I could make it sometime later this afternoon. What kind of creatures are we dealing with?”

“We’re not sure at this stage, but we suspect they’re Forsaken,” says Lydia. “I’ve never seen any this corrupted before though. It looks like its rotting alive.”

“Ah,” says Magnus, already almost gagging as he imagines the smell. “Well, you can expect me a few hours from now. Will we be discussing payment before or after dealing with the hulking slab of rotting Forsaken?”

“I, unfortunately, won’t be able to assist you with the examination as I’m tied up with my duties to the Clave,” says Lydia, “but I can assure you that you will be paid handsomely for your assistance. One of our Shadowhunters will be examining the creature with you in my place.”

Though he knows that it could be any number of Shadowhunters from the Institute, he knows that there’s every chance he might get to work with Alec. The thought of spending time with him again makes the prospect of poking around a rotting corpse slightly more bearable.

In the end it’s not Alec, but Isabelle, who he ends up working with. Biting back a small amount of disappointment, Magnus decides to thank his lucky stars that at least it’s not Jace. He actually quite enjoys Isabelle’s company. She’s young, but she has a sharp head on her shoulders and seems to get him in a way that not many people do. When she greets him in the autopsy room, she seems genuinely pleased to see him, as if greeting a friend. And as he smiles warmly back, he decides that that’s because they are.

The young Lightwoods have been very bad for his negative view of Shadowhunters.

The Forsaken smells just as bad as he imagined it would. Its rotting skin is bloated and yellow, with dark purple bruises and lacerations littered across its surface and though Magnus should be used to this kind of thing after several centuries, his stomach churns unpleasantly.

Deciding that the sooner he examines the damn thing the sooner he can leave the room, Magnus sets to work, arching his hand fluidly over the body to create a field of blue magic. He scans the Forsaken from top to bottom several times, searching a layer deeper each time he does. He learned the hard way many years ago that going straight for the core was a terrible idea. Back then, he didn’t quite have the hang of appearance spells and it took him several weeks of hats worn at jaunty angles to grow his eyebrows back. He’s learned since that it’s far better to start at the surface and search gradually deeper.

He decides, wryly, that it getting to know Alec layer by layer might also be a good way to approach whatever it is between them. If Magnus goes straight for Alec’s core, it could end up backfiring horribly.

To Magnus’ relief, the Forsaken is clear of magic thus far, and he feels himself relax as he approaches the last few layers. His eyebrows will likely be safe this time.

“You almost done?” asks Isabelle, striding over to him, her heels clicking on the stone tiled floor.

“Patience is a virtue, my dear,” says Magnus as he finally searches the core to find that, besides a few slight traces of external magical interference, the Forsaken seems to have been biologically created.

“Come on, I want to get my hands on that thing.” Her eyes glitter with an intrigue and delight that amuses and alarms him. He hasn’t met many people this keen to poke around at rotting flesh, but then, he doesn’t know all that many Shadowhunters.

“Speaking of which,” he says, pouring a bit more energy into his final few sweeps now that he knows that it’s safe to do so, “how is Alexander? I was hoping I might hear from him.”

“Putrefaction,” says Isabelle, wrinkling her nose, “it’s decomposing.”

He gets the sense that she’s avoiding the question, but if she thinks he’s backing down, she’s clearly never encountered a Warlock who’s lived for hundreds of years.

“It’s just sometimes so hard to tell if Alec is actually interested. I mean, I can’t fathom why he wouldn’t be.”

Isabelle huffs out a small laugh.

“I don’t know if you noticed but my brother is not exactly warm and fuzzy.”

“Hmm, I suppose,” Magnus sighs. When he actually thinks about it, he realises that Alec’s had a lot on his plate these last few days. It’s hardly surprising that he hasn’t had much time to think about the soul marks. The fact that he’d been able to find time for their cocktails a few nights ago was a miracle in itself.

“Magnus,” says Isabelle in a gentle tone that he hasn’t heard her use before and indeed didn’t know she was capable of, “I know you’re interested in Alec, and I’m so thankful that you are – he’s needed someone to show him that he’s handsome and interesting and all the other things he’s somehow managed to convince himself that he’s not. But he’s got a lot going on right now. I don’t know if he’s talked to you about it, but he’s got this soul mark and it’s been a difficult thing for him to process so…”

She glances up at Magnus and he smiles at her until the realisation dawns on her face.

“By the Angel! You’re his Fated, aren’t you?” she whispers excitedly. “I thought you might be, but I wasn’t sure if you were just flirting with him because you just thought he was cute or whatever and… oh god that… that complicates things.”

“How so?” Magnus asks, not liking the way her face suddenly drops.

“Our parents,” she explains. “They’re trying to find him a wife.”

Magnus feels as though he’s been struck squarely in the chest with a powerful blow. While he knows that Alec is under serious societal pressure, he didn’t think it was as bad as an arranged marriage. He can’t imagine someone who embodies control as much as Alec does would be happy with having any aspect of his life planned for him, but at the same time, he can definitely imagine a scared, selfless and deeply miserable Alec marking his happiness away in a ceremony to make everyone else happy.

“Sorry,” says Isabelle, her eyes reflecting his disappointment.

“It’s quite alright,” says Magnus, trying to feign casualness. “I suppose Alec is just following his duty.”

“Not everyone gets the luxury of following their heart.”

Her tone is suddenly bitter and acidic and Magnus wonders if Alec isn’t the only one being dragged into the family politics.

“What about you?” he asks, watching her as she examines the creature. “You were all set on following yours, weren’t you?”

“My mark has disappeared,” she says shortly. “Seems kind of pointless to look for something that’s not there, no?”

“Isabelle, I’m so sorry,” he says. His worst fear at the moment is the thought of waking up to find his mark gone; knowing it would either mean that Alec has refused the bond or, worse, that he was…

“It’s okay,” she says. “I mean, I never met him so I suppose there’s not much to be sad about.”

Magnus isn’t sure what to say to that. If Isabelle was a Downworlder, he would know how to comfort her, how to coach her through her disappointment, how to remind her that ultimately this path is far easier. Isabelle is a Shadowhunter though, and more than that, she’s a Lightwood. He honestly can’t tell what she’s feeling right now.

With an unsettling disappointment creeping into his thoughts and the uncomfortable silence in the room growing, Magnus excuses himself to deliver the preliminary reports to the Lightwoods.

He’s making his way through the Operations Room towards the head office when he’s stopped in his tracks by a powerful wave of anger. It feels strange though, not quite right, like wearing his shoes on opposite feet and he realises with a jolt that the anger isn’t his. It’s another side effect of the soul bond, which means there’s only one person the anger can belong to. His eyes scan the room and finally land on Alec. He’s on one of the raised platforms that surround the high-tech operational equipment and is furiously attacking a punching bag. Shirtless.

Magnus decides then that it would be far more convenient (and enjoyable) to hand Alec the reports than having to trudge all the way to the head office.

He only seems to become more magnificent the closer Magnus gets. His toned muscles ripple with every strike he lands and the sweat pouring down his marked skin catches the colourful light from the stained-glass window behind him. He can suddenly understand that Shadowhunters are half angelic. Alec is breathtakingly beautiful.

Magnus’ sense of Alec’s anger disappears and is suddenly replaced with a jumble of indiscernible emotions as he notices him.

“Magnus,” he says, pausing his training to look at him inquisitively.

He knows that he should probably stop staring, but it seems to be impossible to look anywhere but the vast expanse of chest in front of him. With immense difficulty, he shakes himself back to reality, his heart thudding painfully against his ribcage.

“Okay. I’m back,” he says and though Alec regards him with a serious expression, Magnus can sense that part of him is pleased with the attention. Even so, he stalks past Magnus to pull on a shirt. “Oh, you don’t have to get dressed up for me.”

Alec pulls on his shirt regardless.

“Fine, but I like what I saw,” huffs Magnus, deciding the only way to deal with the sudden rush of being confronted with a post-workout Alec is to lean into it and flirt his way out. “I have the preliminary autopsy findings.”

“Why are you giving these to me?” he asks as he takes the folder from Magnus. He can’t help but notice that though Alec has pulled on his shirt, he hasn’t fastened it and Magnus wonders if Alec has left it open on purpose. “It should go to the Head of the Institute.”

“And it is,” Magnus replies, his brow creasing in confusion as Alec tosses the folder onto a nearby bench.

“I’m not,” he shrugs. “And I never will be.”

For the second time that day, Magnus isn’t sure how to respond to a Shadowhunter. He can understand Alec’s need for responsibility – it’s a fundamental part of him. What he can’t understand is the drive to work for the antiquated and bureaucratic hell that is the Clave. Instead of a reply, Magnus looks him right in the eyes to show him that he’s listening. That he’s paying attention.

“Magnus, it’s like… it’s like my whole life has been a lie. Everything I’ve ever known is not –“

“It’s not what you thought.” He senses something dark and furious boil to the surface of Alec’s feelings and beneath it a deep and unexplainable hurt. Whatever Alec is going through is deeper than simply the demands his parents are making of him. What Alec is feeling is a fundamental betrayal and Magnus wonders if it has anything to do with the Lightwoods’ involvement with the Circle.

“I’ve done everything for my parents, for the Clave, and...” Alec trails off as if trying to find adequate words to express what he’s experiencing. “See, I’ve done everything that they’ve asked.”

“Maybe you should start living for yourself,” says Magnus gently. “Do what’s in your heart.”

It seems like such a simple thing, but Magnus is realising more and more as he gets to know Alec that Alec has likely never made a big decision that was purely for his own benefit. Magnus has never had any trouble with that; hedonism is sometimes the only way to cope with the loneliness of immortality. Hell, even his suggestion that Alec follow his heart isn’t entirely selfless, if he’s honest. Magnus is hoping that part of Alec following his heart would be that Alec would choose him. That he would choose what they could have together.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he says after a pause, regarding Magnus seriously, “but I think you’re right.”

And somehow after the crushing blow of Isabelle’s revelation earlier, Magnus finds hope bubbling up inside him again.

“Well, in that case, my work here is done,” he smiles, retrieving the folder from where Alec tossed it. “I suppose I’ll just deliver this to the head office and be on my way.”

“I can take it,” says Alec, the corners of his mouth perking up in an involuntary smile. “You know, save you a trip?”

“Thank you, Alexander.”

And with one last warm smile, Magnus makes his way back to the Operations Room, hoping the spring in his step is just metaphorical.

***

The idea has been rolling around in his head since Lydia arrived, but it’s only after Magnus’ encouragement and the weird unfamiliar hope he felt while talking to him that it actually begins to take root.

He knows his mother and father won’t approve. They feel threatened by Lydia and Alec supposes that they have reason to be. He doesn’t, however, feel any need to take their opinion on the matter into account. He’s doing this for them and whether they agree with his methods or not is their problem. It’s their fault that he has to make these kinds of decisions in the first place. The betrayal he feels at the discovery that his parents are ex-Circle members is still fresh and raw, and the salt in the wound is that the reason he’s been trained to be such a textbook-perfect Shadowhunter his entire life is to cover up for their mistakes.

Not anymore.

The thought that sprung into his mind that morning – the thought that even if his responsibilities wouldn’t allow him to marry someone he loved, he might at least be able marry someone he understood and respected – is now a fully-formed plan and each step he takes towards Lydia’s office is spurred on by his duty, his desire for his sister to just be herself again, the painful finality of Jace and Clary kissing, Magnus’ gentle and understanding encouragement and, more than anything, he’s spurred on by his need to be seen, to be taken seriously and to be counted as someone with something important to contribute.

Alec is surprisingly calm throughout the short conversation. He expects to be more nervous as he explains his thinking to her, expects to stammer and trip over his words, but there’s no fear – just a steely determination that this is the right thing. Just over a minute after walking into her office, Alec asks Lydia Branwell to marry him. She accepts his proposal, but Alec tells her to sleep on it and let him know what she thinks in the morning. It’s a life-changing decision so Alec wants to be certain that he’s given her enough time to weigh up the pros and cons.

He’s heading back to check on Isabelle in the lab and say goodnight to her when he hears the sounds of a scuffle coming from the Training Area. He knows that Hodge mentioned that he was going to be training, but Alec is definitely hearing two distinct sets of footsteps and grunts. And while there’s every chance that Hodge might be training with someone, Alec has long since learned to err on the side of caution.

He makes his way as stealthily as possible to the Weapons Area to pick up his bow and quiver and he’s glad he does.

A Forsaken is looming over a prone Hodge with a spiked club. Alec draws his bow without a second’s hesitation and a moment later, his arrow buries itself in the creature’s shoulder. The Forsaken turns to face him, clumsily advancing on him, and Alec manages to send another arrow straight into the creature’s chest. It doesn’t seem to have any effect other than making the creature angry and Alec doesn’t have time to duck the massive blow to his side. As he lies sprawled on the floor, ribs throbbing, he’s unprepared for the agony of his arm being torn open by the club’s sharp spike.

Through his pain, he’s vaguely aware of Hodge attacking the Forsaken from behind, the creature crashing to the ground and Isabelle’s worried voice as she rushes over to him.

He’s also aware of an intense and powerful feeling of fear and, though he has no idea how, he knows it’s not his own. It doesn’t seem to fit right, and he’s sure that it’s someone else who’s afraid, that he’s just experiencing it.

Then he blacks out.

When he wakes up, the first thing he notices is a soft gold glow somewhere to the left of him. For a moment, he thinks it might be his bedside lamp, but it’s warmer and richer than any electrical light he’s ever seen. As he blinks and the world comes back into focus he realises the light is coming from Isabelle’s side. In his surprise, he tries to scramble up in bed, wincing in pain as he remembers why he’s waking up.

“Izzy, your –“

But Isabelle is gently pushing him back down to the bed. He sees now that he’s in the Infirmary and the mingled smell of blood and disinfectant bring him sharply back to reality. The Forsaken, Hodge, the weird sensation of feeling someone else’s fear all come flooding back to him and to make matters worse, his sister’s soul mark is now glowing gold. She’s met her Fated.

“Shh, you need to rest, big brother.”

“No, Izzy, your mark. It’s… it’s…”

“You don’t need to worry about my mark anymore, Alec,” she says, smoothing his hair away from his face. “It’s gone. It’s not there anymore.”

“No, Iz, it’s glowing.” Alec gestures to the spot where the light is cutting through the dark blue of her dress. She glances down at it and her eyes widen in shock. A moment later she gasps.

“Oh my god – Simon,” she says.

“Simon? As in the Mundy?” asks Alec, confused.

“I don’t think he’s a Mundy anymore,” she says softly, covering her side with her hand as she slips on her discarded lab coat. “Clary must have chosen to bring him back. Oh my god, Alec, I was trying to convince her to stake his heart. What if she’d actually staked his heart? If he’s my Fated that means the Angel chose him – that there’s something the Angel wants him to do. And there I was trying to convince her to kill him.”

“Hey, you didn’t know,” he says, reaching out to take her hand. “And besides, it’s your job to discourage violent Downworlder conversions. You were just following your duty as a Shadowhunter.”

“And what about my duty as a human being?” Isabelle’s eyes are shining with a strange emotion Alec has never seen there before, and he’s struck suddenly with how grown up she is and how in so many ways, she’s so much more mature than him. She gives his hand a gentle squeeze. “I’ll let Dad know you’re awake.”

As the sound of Isabelle’s heels grows fainter, Alec begins feeling the same fear he felt before he passed out, and mixed with his own confusion, his head is beginning to spin.

You’re fine, he tells himself. You’re going to be patched up and then everything is going to be fine.

A moment later, a feeling of euphoric relief washes over him, even causing a small huff of laughter to escape his lips, and it occurs to Alec that this might be another soulmate thing – that it might be Magnus’ worry and relief he’s sensing. Far from comforting him, the thought causes a knot of anxiety to form at the pit of his stomach. If Alec can feel what Magnus is feeling, there’s every chance that Magnus can feel what Alec is feeling, and it could only serve to make this whole situation way more complicated than it already is.

The next few hours find Alec experiencing the most frustration he’s ever been subjected to in his entire life. He knows that it was necessary for Magnus to return to secure the wards, but having to deal with the complication that is Magnus on top of all the stress of the last night is threatening to send him to his breaking point. It’s impossible to concentrate on concealing his emotions while experiencing the rollercoaster of Magnus’. And while Alec is beginning to suspect that he can only pick up on Magnus’ strongest emotions, his problem is that Magnus seems to have nothing but strong emotions.

He’s not surprised to find that Magnus really doesn’t like his father. Waves of disgust and contempt that aren’t his roll through Alec as Magnus patches up the broken wards in the Ops Room. Alec wonders how much of it is because of his father’s involvement with the Circle and how much of it is because of his general distrust of Shadowhunters. Not that he should be wondering. In fact, he should be actively trying to not think about Magnus. He’s getting married. The time for entertaining thoughts about being with the Warlock is over.

After a brief and tense discussion about the effectiveness of Magnus’ wards, Robert Lightwood stalks off, leaving Alec alone with Magnus. Well, not alone. Alec is keenly aware of the many eyes in the room below that are trained on Magnus. It’s not every day that they have a Warlock at the Institute and certainly not one with a reputation like the High Warlock of Brooklyn’s. That’s what makes him pull violently away from Magnus when he offers to help heal Alec’s Forsaken wound. Warlocks aren’t known to voluntarily help Shadowhunters and Alec shudders to think of the rumours that would circulate if anyone were to see them.

Alec’s sense of Magnus’ hurt and confusion mingles with his own anger and frustration and he’s never wanted to be anyone else more than he does right now.

“If anything were to happen to you…” says Magnus, softly. His cold hurt is tinged with something warmer – caring and concern – and Alec resists the temptation to let that warmth spread through his emotions too.

“Why is this happening?” he demands of Magnus instead, brows creased. “Why am I suddenly feeling what you’re feeling?”

“Misericordia,” Magnus explains, “the empathy tether. In the same way that Habebat allows us to combine our abilities and Impetus allows us to share energy, Misericordia allows us to feel what the other is feeling. Because Downworlders and Nephilim come from vastly different worlds, it’s supposed to help a Fated pair form a greater understanding of each other so that their choice is more informed.”

“Great, another gift from the Angel,” says Alec bitterly. He glances around to see if anyone is paying attention to their conversation and is unsurprised to find several people throwing furtive glances at the two of them. It sets Alec even more on edge. He can’t risk anyone finding out about Magnus and him. Not now that he’s so close to fixing everything that Clary and Jace and his parents have broken.

“Alexander,” says Magnus, taking a step towards him and Alec moves back.

“Magnus I’m…” He tries to tell him about Lydia and their engagement, but as he catches Magnus’ eye, the words stick in his throat. He can see the centuries of well-worn pain and disappointment in the Warlock’s eyes, but there’s something new and uncharted there too – something strangely vulnerable. Alec knows he has to get out of there before another moment of weakness. “I.. I’ve got to –“

“Go?” Magnus supplies. His voice falsely cheery and Alec tries not to think about how he picks up on that. “Of course – you’re a busy man, and I should find this Lydia person. Payment up front is just smart business. Where might I find her?”

“I haven’t seen her,” says Alec bluntly, “but if I do I’ll send her your way.”

He can’t be around Magnus anymore. Being close to someone as warm and exciting and beautiful as Magnus, being so close to starting something that he suspects would change his life for the better, but knowing that he can’t pursue it because his happiness would come at the cost of his family’s was too painful. Far more painful than the gash in his arm.

He remembers his first big injury. He was five and was prone to running where he should have been walking. As a result, he slipped down a flight of stairs, breaking his leg. He was too young then to be marked with an Irazte, and he remembers trying to bravely fight back his tears while Hodge and one of the nursing sisters tended to him.

“Where does it hurt?” Hodge asked while the nurse looked at his leg.

“Nowhere,” Alec replied. “I’m a Shadowhunter.”

“You’re really brave,” smiled Hodge, “but can I tell you a secret? Even Shadowhunters get hurt.”

“But I thought they were warriors,” said Alec.                                                         

“They are,” said Hodge. “The thing about pain though, Alec, is that it’s a gift. It’s a messenger that tells you when something is wrong so that you can fix it.”

Hodge’s words ring in Alec’s years now, over fifteen years later. If the decisions he’s making about Magnus are painful, surely that’s a sign that he needs to fix it? Maybe not being able to escape the way avoiding Magnus felt like a physical ache meant that he was on the wrong track?

The thought is gone by the time he gets to the training area a few minutes later. Alec’s plan will ensure that his family will be protected, that Lydia will get her chance to run an Institute and that Isabelle can go back to being herself. His plan will ensure that he will be able to start a good family, one that will be recognised and respected by the Clave.

Alec knows that if he’s choosing this, he has to refuse the soul bond.

Since now is as good a time as any, he sits down on one of the nearby benches and wonders if there’s a specific way he needs to go about it, any specific phrase he needs to recite or posture he needs to assume. Eventually, he decides that placing a hand over his mark and simply addressing the Angel with his request is probably a safe bet.

But for some reason, though the words are on the tip of his tongue, he can’t go through with it.

Instead, he gets up and begins his training, hoping that the physical activity will push any and all thoughts from his mind.

***

They’ve taken Meliorn to the City of Bones and though Magnus is furious, he isn’t that surprised. The Clave has never been big on taking time to gather the necessary evidence to substantiate its suspicions. It’s corrupt and ageing, a brittle skeleton clinging to any scrap of tradition and influence it can, becoming crueller and less effective with every passing year. Even when the majority of the Clave’s problems are the direct result of Valentine and the Circle’s actions, it’s somehow always the Downworld that takes the worst hit.

He spends that morning furious, exhaustedly roaming the halls of the Institute to reinforce their wards. Though he knows the Institute will pay him generously, Magnus would much rather forgo the money if it means he could escape the cold, dark walls of the centuries-old church. The only thing keeping him here is Alec. Magnus can sense that he’s grappling with something huge and he’s sure it means that Alec is getting nearer to making a definite decision about their soul bond. If Alec wants to talk, Magnus wants to be somewhere nearby. After their short conversation in the Training Room yesterday, his anxiety that Alec might cut off the bond at any moment has been instead replaced with a tentative hope. Alec said that he wanted to follow his heart and maybe the conflicting emotions that are now rolling through Magnus are just Alec working through the last of his concerns.

“Magnus,” says a voice behind him, startling him from his thoughts. He turns, hands still charged with magic, to see Isabelle and Jace standing at the opposite end of the hallway, their faces grim and determined. He understands what that expression on Shadowhunters means. It’s the face they wear when they’re about to go into battle. He hopes to every god in the universe that they’re not planning to drag him into anything.

“More orders from the Head of the Institute?” he asks.

“The opposite, actually,” says Isabelle, striding towards him. Jace follows a few paces behind. “We need your help.”

“Can it wait? As you can see, my hands are a little full at present.” He raises them to draw attention to the magic glowing around them.

“Magnus, please,” says Isabelle, her dark eyes full of determination, “it’s to help Meliorn.”

“They’re about to torture him. Probably kill him,” Jace adds. “Or maybe you’re not familiar with how the Clave conducts interrogations in the City of Bones?”

“Oh, I know very well what happens to Downworlders in the hands of the Silent Brothers,” says Magnus, retracting his magic and fixing Jace with a dark glare. “That in mind, perhaps you’ll understand why I’m hesitant to trust any of your kind.”

“You trust my brother though, don’t you?” asks Isabelle, and Magnus knows that his expression has betrayed him when Isabelle takes a step closer and places a hand on his arm. “Help him then. He’s convinced that siding with the Clave on this is the right thing to do and he’s not listening to reason. If we don’t save Meliorn, Alec will have that on his conscience for the rest of his life.”

Isabelle has him. He knows it and she knows it. There’s precious little that Magnus wouldn’t do to protect Alec.

“Fine,” he says. “Talk.”

“Not here,” says Jace, his eyes scanning the hallway. “We’ll talk in the Meeting Room. It won’t look as suspicious and Magnus can put up a silencing charm just in case.”

“Oh can he?” says Magnus. “Only if you say the magic word.”

Jace glares back at him in reply.

About half an hour after his clandestine meeting with Isabelle and Jace, Magnus follows Alec to the head office and watches as he disappears inside. Once certain that Alec is far enough into the room that he won’t hear Magnus walking towards it, Magnus makes his way to just past the door. He glances nervously down the hallway to make sure that no one sees him then waves his hand over the wainscoting, creating a small window in one of the wooden panels.

Alec is leaning against the desk with his shirt halfway off, tending to his Forsaken wound. The gash is still angry, red and raw and at the sight of it, Magnus has to bite back a gasp. It would be so easy for him to send a pulse of healing magic and have it disappear, but it would render this whole operation null and void. Besides, Alec made it clear doesn’t want Magnus’ help with it. He reminds himself that he’s here for Alec’s Stele and, forcing himself to focus on the task at hand, Magnus scans the desk for it. His eyes eventually settle on Alec’s jacket pocket where the silver wand-like instrument is poking out just enough for Magnus to see it. Taking careful note of its positioning, Magnus snaps his fingers and the Stele vanishes. He immediately pulls out his phone, waiting for Jace’s signal that he’s retrieved the Mortal Cup from the safe.

Magnus looks up and sees that, to his horror, Alec has already replaced his bandage and is in the process of pulling on his shirt. If they are going to have any chance of getting away with this, Jace better move at lightning speed. But several tense seconds pass with no sign from him. All the while, Alec is buttoning up his shirt.

The real panic is just starting to set in when, finally, his phone buzzes in his hand. He briefly reads. ‘Done – You can put it back’ before snapping his fingers and slipping Alec’s Stele back into the pocket Magnus took it from. It couldn’t be a closer call because a second later, Alec is picking up the jacket and making his way to the door.

Magnus barely has time to remove the window and slip his phone into his pocket when Alec enters the hallway.

“All done for today,” he says cheerfully, pretending that he’s checking the walls. “Place is secure. Not bad for a day’s work.”

“Magnus. I was just… are you okay?” Alec asks. The question disarms Magnus who’s suddenly finding it nearly impossible to play it casual.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks with a small huff of forced laughter.

“You were panicking a second ago.” Alec’s eyebrows knit together in confusion. “I thought there might be something –“

“No, it was just nerves,” says Magnus, not completely untruthfully. “I thought I’d stop by to see how you were doing.”

Alec is silent for a moment and Magnus tries to convince himself that Alec’s confusing rush of emotions is a good thing.

“I meant to thank you for your advice,” he eventually says. “The whole… follow your heart thing.”

Magnus is struggling to breathe. Could this actually be happening? Was this it?

“Oh, well what can I say? I have a deep understanding of the human psyche,” he smiles nervously, knowing that Alec must be able to feel his nervous anticipation. “At least that’s what Freud always said.”

In truth, he only met Freud once and it was the worst hour of his life. But since name-dropping historical figures into his conversations with mortals is one of the only things that makes being immortal worthwhile he decides Alec doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m getting married,” says Alec. Whatever Magnus was expecting him to say, it wasn’t that.

“Whoa, that’s a tad sudden, isn’t it?” says Magnus, who is struggling to get his head around the turn this conversation is taking. “I mean, we should at least go to dinner first.”

“Magnus,” Alec says in a serious tone that sets Magnus on edge, “family is everything to me. You have to know that.”

“I get it,” Magnus smiles. “You’re part of a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ culture. I’m fine with it. You’re a traditional guy.”

“Yeah, I am,” Alec agrees. It seems as though they’ve ended the conversation on the same page, but Magnus can sense that there’s something else Alec wants to say and he waits expectantly to hear what it is. Alec takes a deep breath. “That’s why I proposed to Lydia.”

It feels as if every particle of matter has suddenly been ripped from the universe and all that exists is the blood pounding in his ears and the sensation of his stomach plummeting to an unfathomable depth. This is why relationships are a bad idea. This is what he’s been successfully shutting out for almost a century – this awful, gut-wrenching feeling of rejection – of not being good enough.

This was worse than finding out Alec’s parents were arranging a marriage for him. Alec, knowing about the soul bond, knowing how Magnus felt about him, chose to propose to this Shadowhunter woman who was little more than a stranger.

“That’s… interesting,” he says, struggling to string words together. What now? What is he supposed to do with this?

“It makes sense. It’s a solid partnership. For both of us.”

“Solid partnership,” Magnus repeats with a bitter laugh, “that’s hot.”

Alec at least has the basic decency to look ashamed at this point, but Magnus’ emotions are too overwhelming to tell what Alec is actually feeling.

He’s was such an idiot to think that this was going to go the other way.

“Well okay then. Congratulations. Marriage is a wonderful institution – not that I would know.” He takes a deep breath and, gathering the very last of his composure, he says, “Goodbye, Alexander.”

Pushing past Alec, Magnus feels the tempting tears beginning to sting his eyes, but refuses to let them fall. He let this happen. He did this to himself. What good would crying about it do?

It’s only as he nears the end of the hallway that he feels it. There, buried beneath the torrent of his own feelings, is a powerful wave of emotion that isn’t his. The marks are still there. Their soul bond is still intact. He can still feel what Alec is feeling.

And what Alec is feeling in that moment isn’t the calm and relief that Magnus imagines. There’s joyless resignation there and more than a little frustration, but far stronger than either of those, Alec Lightwood is filled with a deep and bitter regret. Magnus smiles weakly despite himself.

All is not lost.

[logh-icebergs]

Episode 12: Invasion of Imperial Territory

August 796/487. Yang, Sitolet, and Cazellnu get stuck in traffic. They run into Lebello and give him a lift in their handy military zip-helicopter. At the High Council meeting, Royal Sanford and Cornelia Windsor convince all council members except for Lebello, Huang, and Trunicht to vote in favor of the military’s proposed invasion of Imperial territory. With the operation approved by the government, Sitolet convenes a meeting at which he appoints Lobos to command the mission of eight fleets totaling 30,227,400 soldiers, with Greenhill his second in command. Andrew Fork, who crafted the invasion plan, accuses Yang of aiding the enemy. Meanwhile Rubinsky and von Remscheid go on a....date? No, okay, they’re probably just talking politics. Probably.

...Okay, got all that? We’ve been focused on laying the groundwork of the main themes and relationships that we’ll be following throughout the series, which means that many of the little plot details and secondary characters that have flitted by so far haven’t figured heavily in our posts. Since this episode is less like an iceberg and more like an ice floe that’s mostly above the water, I’m gonna take this opportunity to formally introduce us to some of these (many, many, many) characters. 

Alex Cazellnu

Pictured here with his characteristic “I’m not quite sure what’s happening around me” expression, Cazellnu is Yang’s friend and former upperclassman from the military academy. Many mysteries surround this man, as we’ll talk much more about later. For example, how did he land such a smoking hot and kickass wife? (We’ll see her soon, don’t worry.) What made him think Yang was fit to be anyone’s legal guardian? (Yes, that was his brilliant idea.) And what the fuck kind of name is Cazellnu? (Actually my guess is that it’s based on the word caserne meaning military barracks, which is a bit on the nose honestly since his job has to do with supplies and housing…)

More seriously, Cazellnu plays an interesting and important role in the show: He personifies the heteronormative societal structures and assumptions both of the in-universe world and the world of the audience. Like so much in LoGH this has a dual purpose. For the characters around him, the normative crap he says applies concrete pressure on them to meet the expectations of their society. For the audience, he explicitly articulates some of the (incorrect) "surface readings" that help the show pass as way straighter than it is. We will of course be keeping an eye out for these moments as we get to know him better.

Another Cazellnu mystery: Why didn’t he bother to give his younger daughter a name? Did he use up all the female names he could think of on Charlotte Phyllis??

Sidney Sitolet

We’ve seen Fleet Admiral Sitolet (or Sithole, as it’s sometimes spelled, but come on, have some respect…) before, most recently when he was laying a major guilt trip on Yang about trying to resign from the military. In this episode he intensifies that guilt trip even further, telling Yang that he’s the literal only hope for preventing the whole military from falling into the hands of over-ambitious zealots eager to get everyone gloriously killed. Sheesh. I know that Sitolet is clearly demarcated as one of the Good Guys here—an older, more powerful, slightly sterner version of Yang who is also extremely practical about using his resources to try to minimize the damage caused by the continuing war. And Yang is one of those resources. I get it, but...this scene at the end of this episode just makes me want to write AU fanfic where Yang tells him to go to hell and moves to a nice mountain villa where he writes history books all day while Julian goes shopping at the local market for the best deals on high quality tea.

...What, a girl can dream, can’t she? (From episode 3.)

Anyway, platitudes about patriotism and duty to crush the Evil Empire etc. won’t keep Yang in the military, but Sitolet is the one who knows exactly the kind of logic Yang finds inescapable. As much as it obviously frustrates and saddens him, Yang feels the burden of Sitolet’s expectations. 

João Lebello

Or Joanne, sure, why not.

This is the first time we’re seeing Lebello, the current secretary of the treasury serving on the Alliance High Council. He’s a childhood friend of Sitolet’s, and their banter reminds me a bit of Yang and Cazellnu’s friendship. 

In the council’s deliberations, he’s the loudest voice speaking up against the invasion, on the grounds that their economy is already being stretched thin by the ongoing warfare and further military spending could lead to collapse. Unfortunately the counter of “eh we’ll just print more money” is persuasive to most of the council, who vote in favor of the invasion in hopes that a victory will improve their polling numbers. Let’s hear it for democracy! 

Huang Louis

Like Yang, his family name is first; his given name is ルイ in Japanese, and I’ve seen it rendered as Rui, Lewi, or Louis.

The only other council member to speak against the invasion plan. Huang is quietly awesome; I don’t have a ton to say about him yet other than that, and the fact that I totally ship him and Lebello. 

Huang/Lebello is pretty high up there on the LoGH Ships expanding brain meme.

Cornelia Windsor

The token woman on the council, Windsor does a great job smashing the sexist stereotype that women are less likely than men to warmonger and advocate the deaths of millions of citizens. And she does so while reminding me so strongly of Dolores Umbridge that I’ve been trying to convince myself that J.K. Rowling must have watched at least the first twelve episodes of this show somehow. 

I mean, just look at that giggle.

There are three philosophies put forward in the council discussion: Lebello and Huang making practical arguments about the toll the war is taking on the Alliance economically and socially; Sanford, the head of the council, arguing that inaction is less likely to get them re-elected than a potential victory; and Windsor making the ideological case that war against the Empire is so righteous that no cost is too great to pay.

I’ll go out on a limb and say this show hasn’t been very subtle from the beginning about its distaste for people making arguments in favor of war and destruction on purely ideological or dogma-driven grounds. This stance seems mostly uncomplicated for now—pragmatism: good; blind idealism: bad—but so far the stars have aligned so that the characters spewing the dogmatic rhetoric are using it to push for increased death. It’s easy to roll our eyes at ideals of honor and glory in war; what about ideals like “try not to kill people if you don’t have to”? What if those go against the pragmatic arguments? We’ve already seen this tension a bit between Yang and Jessica, with his willingness to work within the military clashing with her ideals of pacifism, even though their ultimate goals align. In those cases there’s much less of a clear cut answer.  

...But for now at least, we can all agree this Umbridge-wannabe person sucks.

Job Trunicht

(From episode 6.)

We’ve already heard plenty about Trunicht and we’ll hear plenty more, so I won’t dwell on him here. But a quick Fun Fact*: Yang, being generally a luddite, refused to even get a remote control for his TV (er sorry, SolidVision) for a long time, until Trunicht started appearing regularly on the news. Yang hated seeing Trunicht’s face for even a split second so much that he would bound up off the couch to turn it off as soon as Trunicht showed up. Of course Yang is incredibly lazy, and he finally realized that with a remote control he could remain on the couch and have to see Trunicht’s face for even less time, so he caved and bought one; and now he sits eagerly watching the news with the remote clutched in one hand, hoping he’ll have the chance to turn it off in disgust.

...Relatable.

*Source: Julian’s Iserlohn Diary, one of the side stories written by Tanaka. Yes yes our canon here is the anime not the books; but we get to pick and choose adorable details that we like, and I hereby make this one Official Icebergs Canon.

Andrew Fork

Speaking of characters spewing pompous platitudes about war, meet Andrew Fork, who I really really wish I could say was a hyperbolic caricature who could never exist or gain actual power in real life but………..*looks around* here we are I guess. Fork must be a historian who wrote his thesis on early 21st century Earth internet message boards, since he employs tactics like accusing anyone who questions the practical implementation of his ideas of Aiding the Other Side. I again can’t resist sharing a passage from the novel of another character describing Fork:

*thinking emoji* *thinking emoji* *thinking emoji* I dunno it sounds familiar but I can’t place it...

Alexander Bucock

As you can tell by him giving Fork shit, Bucock is one of the more level-headed of the admirals. We’ll get to know him better in the future, so for now I’ll just mention that he’s awesome and him telling Fork that he’s impolite makes me happy. And that you shouldn’t get him mixed up with Lobos just because they both have white/gray hair and a mustache, as I may have done through pretty much the whole first season...

Quick Aside: Names

Cazellnu/Caserne/Caselnes? João/Joanne Rebelo/Lebello? Sitolet/Sithole/Shithole? Rui/Lewi/Louis? Fork/Falk? Bucock/Bewcock? Mittermeyer/Mittermeier, Reuental/Reuenthal, Mintz/Minci, Lap/Lapp/Shithole…??? It might have come to your attention by now that there is complete consensus about the spelling of essentially zero LoGH names.

You’d think “Jessica Edwards” would at least be free from controversy, but….. (From episode 2.)

Given that there doesn’t seem to be one clearly “official” source, and that it’s 1600 years in the future, we’re not especially hung up on trying to be super authentic and picky with our spellings. Maybe Cazellnu’s distant ancestors who also managed military barracks were named Caserne, but the spelling got modified as humanity emigrated to the stars; it happens. Generally our policy is to spell things however we happen to feel like it, based on some combination of aesthetics and just what we’re used to, and to be as consistent as we can once we pick a spelling; but we’re not really in the business of trying to arbitrate which spellings are “correct.” There’s too much about LoGH that’s worth caring passionately about to spend that much energy on the names. 

...Except Minci is still wrong, sorry animation notes that came with the laserdiscs.

Okay now, where were we…

Lazzll Lobos

...What, really? Lazzll, that’s what the subbers went with? Is that even a name? *quick Google search* No, no it’s not. Well, apparently it’s more commonly spelled Lassalle, but y’know what, I’m sticking with Lazzll god dammit. I make the rules here.

I don’t have anything to say about him beyond his name and that he is different from Bucock apparently.

And last but not...well okay maybe also least?

Adrian Rubinsky

When we last mentioned Rubinsky he was musing about how to use Reinhard and Kircheis’s relationship to his advantage somehow; here we find him informing the Imperial High Commissioner to Phezzan about the Alliance’s impending invasion, which he learned about...somehow. His air is constantly that of one attempting to play puppet-master and sculpt the situation to his own advantage, although ostensibly he is only doing his duty here as an Imperial subject, Phezzan being officially a territory of the Empire. It’s on his information that the Imperial nobles set Reinhard’s fleet in motion to meet the Alliance invasion force, as Yang was afraid they would do.

We also very very briefly meet Dominique Saint-Pierré, a mistress of Rubinsky's, seen here pouring wine while both men leer at her; she has more power than this glimpse suggests, though, and the power struggles between her and Rubinsky are definitely the most interesting aspect of Rubinsky’s role in the story.

Phew! And with this we conclude the entry that will probably mention the highest number of canonically straight characters by name of any Icebergs post. I hope you got all that; yes this will be on the exam. 

Stray Tidbits

I love the four-hour traffic jam caused by some intern feeding a corrupt string into a computer. I’ve mentioned how realistic the self-driving car system on Heinessen feels, and having it break down only adds to the realism.

So much for Yang’s optimism that capturing Iserlohn would lead to peace negotiations rather than an escalation of the war. Cracks are starting to show in Yang’s admiration of this whole “let the people control the government” thing, and I don’t blame him; especially since the Alliance “democracy” seems to involve decisions made by simple majority vote by an eleven-person High Council?? Umm? 

The subs tried to make sense of this line by drawing a distinction that I don't think is there in the Japanese: Yang uses the same verb, "akusei o shite iru," for both governments, where akusei (悪政) is literally bad+government. My interpretation is that Yang is expressing frustration at the irony of people choosing to elect a government that nevertheless governs against their interest...but I guess I might be projecting.

I love this random shot of a Phezzani street. Most Obscure LoGH Love Triangle Award goes to the three teenagers on the right; I wonder which of them is the vertex?? This is the fanfiction the world demands. 

[abodynamicslife]

Alpha, Beta, and Omega, particularly in the context of wolves, are early scientific descriptions of social status or rank. The idea is that the Alphas are the most dominant, powerful individuals; that the Betas are their subordinates, like lieutenants; and the “Omega” is the lowest-ranking wolf, the pack punching bag, who is submissive to everyone else and whose job is to take their abuse, and also to cajole the pack into play.

The paranormal romance genre has developed its own little sub-tropes around the framework of Alphas, Betas, and Omegas in werewolf packs, so they’re not always drawing directly on these terms as they’ve been applied to wolf packs, but it’s definitely still one of the most common versions you’ll see of werewolf society depicted in fiction. 

There is also a popular trope that’s specific to fanfiction, which is also called “Alpha/Beta/Omega” or “A/B/O” dynamics, and though it shares many of the same roots as far as Alpha dominance and Omega submission, it’s not the same trope at all. A/B/O stories treat the idea of Alpha, Beta, and Omega more like sexual orientation and a description of physical sex characteristics. Some of the same problems exist in both tropes — and it gets particularly confusing when authors write A/B/O dynamics into a werewolf character setting where Alpha/Beta/Omega are also used as werewolf social ranking.

The fact that these terms are so popular, and used in so many different ways, adds an extra layer of confusion to their use, because werewolf fans will have already come across so many different ideas and iterations of what exactly “Alpha,” “Beta,” and “Omega” mean in so many different fictional universes, versus what they mean in real life, compounded with the fact that, well… the basis of the whole concept is rubbish.

Why Alpha / Beta / Omega for Werewolves Simply doesn’t Make Sense

The concept of Alpha / Beta / Omega wolves comes from flawed, outdated science. We know now that wolf packs in the wild are typically just a family unit: the “alphas” are in fact just the parents, or the breeding pair, and most of the other wolves in the pack are their offspring from the past several years. (There are many other pack configurations, including extremely large packs that might include aunts, uncles, wolves welcomed from other packs, and more, but a wolf pack on the most basic level is simply a family.)

How would your werewolves have started using these terms in the first place? They weren’t commonly associated with wolves until the 1950s. Even if your werewolves wanted to apply human scientific terms to their own society, if that society pre-dates the 1950s, it wouldn’t make sense for them to use those terms for themselves at all.

-  If in your universe werewolf society goes back to much more ancient times, or are simply not coming straight out of human society with human views, they would already have their own fully developed culture, social practices, and language to describe themselves.

-  The most important thing I’d love for people to understand about our ideas of power, dominance, and rank in the social life of animals, is that these are almost always just humans projecting our own nonsense onto animals.

When Alpha / Beta / Omega Might Make Sense for Your Werewolf Characters

-  When your werewolves were created by, are being studied by, or are under the control of military, government, or science forces.

-  When your werewolves weren’t born as werewolves, but acquired the condition from a bite, and have no idea what they’re doing.

-  When your werewolves don’t use the terms for themselves, but humans have applied it to them.

There are undoubtedly other occasions when those terms might make sense, and hopefully you can give it some careful consideration to how the history of these terms might interact with the werewolf society you’ve built, if indeed your werewolves have any organized society at all.

Now Write!

I haven’t written this post with the intention of shaming authors who use this convention, but with the hope of encouraging authors to branch out a bit more in the way they write werewolves, and hopefully provide you with a bit more background on where these terms come from and their possible pitfalls for worldbuilding.

Read the full article here!

RANT ALERT

I clipped a lot of the article, to just focus on the main bits. I thought it had some interesting points, but I also thought this article was an incredibly presumptuous way of telling werewolf writers and worldbuilders how to build their own make-believe universe. 

Okay, we get it, Alpha/Beta/Omega ranks were based on flawed research from the 1940s-50s, and as opposed to unrelated wolves in captivity, wolves in the wild don’t actually act that way at all. Nice. Fascinating. But werewolf fiction/horror is HARDLY one to be a stickler for factual scientific accuracy or realism in the first place.

It’s one thing to want a realistic plot and feasible character/storyline development in werewolf fiction (hello, Teen Wolf is a glaringly painful example; you’re justified to freak out trying to follow the plot holes and inconsistency and baiting). It’s another thing to single out a trope you don’t like and say in your “non-shaming” article that:

“....as much as I obviously hate this entire trope and wish it would die (sorry, I’m trying not to be judgmental, but I’m failing).”

If you don’t like ABO, or any other trope, and it bothers you that much that it’s scientifically and biologically inaccurate, there’s a very simple solution: DON’T READ OR WATCH IT.

Does it REALLY matter that werewolf stories often rely on the ABO trope in order to build their fictional stories? Yes, it often perpetuates a stereotype about human-derived hierarchies and behavioral norms, but the article is missing the point: These are WERE-WOLVES. Not REAL WOLVES. They’re ALREADY HALF HUMAN. So of course they’re going to invoke some form of human interaction and societal structures!

Then the article brought up the bitten versus born wolves. Even BORN wolves are still descended from human ancestors. “Werewolf” literally means (Hu)Man-Wolf -- the same way werefox means man-fox and werejaguar means man-jaguar. It’s rare to find a werewolf historiography in literature or film that does not begin with a HUMAN either:

being bitten by a wolf from the offset (ie: magical/scientific rabies)

using magic/potions/charms to become a wolf (eg: shamanism, animism)

being cursed into becoming a wolf, often via cannibalism (eg: Lycaon)

becoming a wolf via death-rebirth spiritualism (eg: Eastern Europe lore)

or some combination of the above

In the universes where ABO is applied to werewolves, it usually appears where multiple werewolves are already living/passing amidst normal human societies together. Technically, they’re IN CAPTIVITY; they’re not living in THE WILD. These werewolves are busy reigning in the wolf, not the human. Their community is their pack, and they’re led by a top werewolf, just like humans societies (Teen Wolf “alphas”, True Blood “packmasters”, etc). Otherwise they live like ordinary people, more or less. So by the article’s own stance that ABO ranks were only applicable to wolves not living in the wild, ABO actually applies!

In werewolf literature/film where the main character is bitten by a mysterious rogue/wild/feral (were)wolf who only exists as a plot device (usually killed in order to “cure” the character or lift the “curse”), there are no packs or ranks anyway, since that lone (were)wolf was a one-off for the sake of the storyline.

So it’s not surprising at all if werewolf packs started adopting human terms to describe what they are, even if before the 1950s they didn’t have a name for their system -- which brings up another point:

We’re taking it for granted that fictional werewolf packs around the world are even speaking English and using ABO tropes in the first place. Who’s to say that wolf packs in Europe and Mexico and Africa and Asia and the Arctic and North America are all using the same terms to describe themselves? Especially when you think about the social structures already inherently different around the world, applied on top of the ways different cultures perceive animals like wolves. You already get hints when looking at werewolves/wolves/canines in mythology and folklore and seeing how different they are!

I just think the article took the whole thing too seriously; suspend your disbelief. No one expects werewolf fiction to be scientifically accurate -- it’s myths and horror and pop culture, and the ABO kink/trope emerged from it via Supernatural fanfiction, not some special on Animal Planet or National Geographic issue. It’s all FICTION.