#i am always sick n i always have the smell of mold stuck in my nose now

[meateater-lamb]

[agustdakasuga]

You Never Walk Alone | Chapter 10

Genre: Werewolf!AU, Poly!AU?, Mate!AU, romance, fluff

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Student!reader, Omega!Seokjin, Alpha!Yoongi, Beta!Hoseok, Alpha!Namjoon, Omega!Jimin, Beta!Taehyung, Alpha!Jungkook

Summary: You live a quiet life in your late grandfather’s cabin in the woods. You go to school just to graduate and get your diploma, not to make friends or stand out from the crowd. That was until one day, you enter your home to see a pack of wolves that need shelter.

Avoiding the boys is harder than you thought. You know that one day, you’ll have to face them again but that time comes a lot faster than expected when they come knocking on your door.

Suga or Yoongi still dropped by your cafe to get coffee from you. But you treated him like a regular customer. There are no more small conversations or anything. You get the order, make his coffee and send him on his way. 

You finished the book RM lent to you and placed it on his table when they had yet to come back from lunch break. You knew 3/7 of their wolves, you didn’t get a chance to see the others to match the human face to the wolf face and frankly, you didn’t know if you wanted to. 

“Study well, we’ll see you back for the exams.” Your teacher left class. 

Before the exams, there was always a study period where students didn’t have to go to school. You only had to come back for the exams and there was a holiday after that.

“(y/n), can we talk?” Jin approached you first. 

“I’m... late for work. Sorry.” You said quickly and ran out of there. Of course, it was a lie, you didn’t really know how to face them. 

You were studying by your window when you saw two people approaching your house. You stood up and backed away from the window, wincing when you heard them knocking on the door. 

*Maybe if I don’t answer-*

“Please, (y/n). We’re desperate. We need your help.” You heard Taehyung whimpered softly. Sighing, you knew you couldn’t leave them if they really needed your help in an emergency. You walked to the door and opened it, looking at them. Taehyung stood with RM beside him. They both looked sad and distraught. 

“Yes?” You said softly. 

“Jungkookie... He needs you.” RM relayed. 

“Why?”

“He’s sick and he needs you. Please, we wouldn’t be here if we were not desperate.” Taehyung was close to his knees as he begged you. Heck, he would do that if it convinced you. 

“He doesn’t need me. He needs a doctor.” You shook your head and was going to close the door when RM put a hand to it, stopping you. 

“I know there’s a lot you’re scared of and confused about. But no doctor can help him. He needs you. I promise, there is no lie or ruse. After that, we can talk and explain everything to you. If you don’t want anything to do with us, I promise we won’t bother you anymore.” RM said. 

“Hyung!” Taehyung turned to RM, outraged at his promise. He didn’t want you to leave them. 

“Okay. Take me to him.” You grabbed your bag, with Yoongi’s washed clothes in them. The two began to walk with you down the forest path. As the house came into view, you had to remind yourself to breathe. 

“She’s here...” The other wolves inside stood up when they scented you outside the house. 

“She came.” Suga thought fondly. When you entered the house, you kept your head down, wanting to keep any interaction to a minimum. 

“This way.” RM said and you nodded, following him up. Standing in front of Jungkook’s closed room door, RM knocked before allowing you to enter. Jungkook smelled his leader before your scent. 

“(y/n)?” He refused to believe his nose and grunted as he turned to face you. The two weren’t lying. Jungkook looked absolutely horrible. His face was paler than Yoongi’s, dark circles were prominent under his bloodshot eyes. It looked like the energy had been sucked out of him. Of course, you knew you were the cause of it and guilt hit your heart. 

“I heard you’re sick.” You whispered. 

“I’ll let you two have some privacy.” RM said with a clear of his throat and left, closing the door behind him. 

“I’m the cause of this?” Tears swam in your eyes. 

“No, no, no. Don’t blame yourself. Come here.” He waved you over and you hesitantly shuffled over. Once you were close enough, Jungkook pushed himself up to hug you. 

“I would never hurt you.” He replied, as if he could hear your worried thoughts. You nodded as you let your tears fall. 

“I missed you.” He hugged you against his chest, inhaling your scent. Reaching up, you rubbed his back in a soothing way. With a gently tug, he pulled you to lie down next to him. At that moment, it didn’t feel awkward. 

“Jungkook-” 

“I’m sorry, just let me... Hold you for a while.” He whimpered. He sighed in relief as he felt you nod against him. Jungkook was definitely Kookie. The personality and actions he did helped you connect the dots. He was someone who acted tough but never let others see his emotions. 

“It’s okay, Kookie.” You whispered as you hummed a soft lullaby for him. Jungkook pressed his face against your chest and you held him like a mother would hold her child. 

“Sleep.” 

“I don’t want to... What if you’re gone when I wake up?” He looked up at you with sad eyes. 

“I’ll still be here, I promise. You need to rest, your hyungs are worried for you.” You convinced, like coaxing a child to take his nap. He nodded his head and it was almost instantly that he fell asleep, his soft snores filling the quiet room. You felt yourself slowly getting sleepy as well, getting too comfortable with his body heat.

When Jungkook fell asleep, you slowly slid away from him to use the bathroom. You came out and saw the paper bag next to your bag. 

“I’ll be back.” You whispered to a sleepy Jungkook and left the room. Being in such a hurry, you tried your best to find Yoongi’s room, not wanting to unnecessarily run into the others. 

“RM?” You called softly, seeing him sitting on the couch. Hearing your voice, he immediately scrambled to his feet. 

“What’s up?” He coughed slightly

“Where’s Yoongi’s room?” You asked and he quietly beckoned you to follow him. He led you to another door, it was Yoongi’s room. From the music playing inside, you knew he was there. Taking a deep breath, you knocked on the door. 

“Come in.” You heard a lazed reply and entered. 

“Umm... Sorry to interrupt.” You cleared your throat. Yoongi jumped slightly when he saw that it was you, quickly reaching over to lower the volume of the speaker on his nightstand before standing up. He straightened his clothes in an effort to look presentable to you. 

“You’re not interrupting. What do you need?” He asked softly. 

“Here. I washed them. Thanks again for lending it to me.” You held out the paper bag. Yoongi tilted his head in confusion, taking the bag in his hands and looking inside. 

“Oh, you’re welcome. Thanks for washing them, I guess.” He placed the paper bag on the bed. The both of you stared at each other awkwardly. 

“I’m gonna go.” You turned. 

“Wait.” Yoongi hastily grabbed your wrist. 

“I need to go, Yoongi. If Jungkook wakes up and I’m not there...” You looked at him with sad eyes, almost as if begging him to hold this conversation off for later. Yoongi let you go, his hand falling limply by your side. You headed back to Jungkook’s room, sliding back into the same position that you were in. He immediately sighed in his sleep, his body molding into yours. 

What you didn’t know was that you just being in the house made all the wolves feel better. Your scent, your energy, your aura was able to calm the nerves that bubbled within them. 

If only they could be as lucky as Jungkook, to have you hold them. 

“You’re really still here.” Jungkook woke up, a little shocked to see that you stuck to your promise. You hummed with a nod. 

“The hyungs want to see you...” He informed. 

“I don’t know, Kookie.” You sighed. Jungkook’s heart quickened at you calling his nickname and told the others to wait. He wanted to hear what you had to say, he wanted to hear what you were hesitant or afraid of. Most importantly, he didn’t want your fears clouding your judgement of them. 

“What’s going through your mind?” He sat up. You crossed your legs, facing him. 

“I don’t know where to start, Kookie. I can’t help but feel betrayed that you guys didn’t tell me that you already knew me. I’m sad that this has caused me to drive a wedge between all of us. I’m guilty that I caused you to be sick. I’m angry with myself for not being able to grasp this reality.” You balled his blanket material into your fists as you cried. 

“(y/n)...” Jungkook whimpered at your loud sobs. He drew your head to his chest like earlier, letting you release your choked sobs. 

“I’m trying. I really am.” You cried. 

“Shh, it’s okay.” Jungkook finally understood how you felt. He felt your feelings, you being lost, scared, confused, everything. There was an ache in his chest. Everyone in the house felt your strong emotions.

“We can take it slow. We don’t have to rush anything.” He said. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Stop apologising. You did nothing wrong. It was careless of us to do that with you around. You were meant to find out in another way, not like that.” He revealed. So they did plan to tell you sooner or later. After a few more minutes of calming down, you left the room with Jungkook. 

The others were already sat in the living room. J-Hope and Taehyung’s eyes were read, evident that they cried too. Yoongi had a distant look on his face. You wanted to run away. 

“Let’s talk.” Was all you could say as you took your seat. 

“Where do you want to start? We’ll follow whatever flow you wanna go by. Do you just want to ask us questions?” RM started. 

“I... I don’t really know what to ask or what I don’t know. Maybe... start by telling me your names? Your real names? Then I’ll sort out my thoughts.” You said meekly. They nodded their heads, simple enough. You let out a short sigh, you had that amount of time to think of anything else you wanted to ask them. Well, what were you supposed to ask werewolves? 

“Well, I’m Namjoon.” 

“Yoongi.” 

“Jin.” 

“Jimin.” 

“Jungkook.”

“Hoseok or Hobi.” 

“...Taehyung.” The boy looked away, not wanting you to see the hurt he had in his eyes. You nodded your head, picturing what each wolf looked like. Yoongi’s white fur, Taehyung’s double coloured tail and Hoseok golden back. 

“I’m sorry.” You buried your face in your hands. 

“It’s okay. Take your time.” Jin rubbed your back in a soothing way, his voice full of adoration and assurance. 

“We’ll tell you. If you have questions after, feel free to ask. Or if you want us to stop at any point.” Yoongi said. You nodded your head. The pale boy looked to his leader, who gave a curt nod. 

“Well, we are werewolves. So we can turn into wolves. We are of royal lineage because of our pure werewolf blood so in a sense, we are regarded as the princes of this ‘colony’. We don’t have powers but we do move faster, heal faster and are stronger than humans and other werewolves...” Namjoon started, scratching his head to think of what else there was to tell you. 

“When Jimin came to me, that night... Was it planned?” You asked. 

“No, that was purely coincidental. We were raided by hunters and Jimin escaped, finding your house for shelter.” Hoseok explained and you nodded your head. 

“(y/n), there was never an ulterior motive in any of us approaching you. We will never harm you, in human form or wolf form.” Jin said. 

“I know, I’m sorry. I just...” 

“It’s alright. You’re feeling guarded now because you don’t know anything about this. You probably thought all this only happened in books or movies. Completely understandable.” Jimin held your hand. 

“In werewolf hierarchy, there are 3 rankings of some sort. So, Yoongi hyung, Jungkook and myself are alphas. We’re slightly stronger and bigger than the others. Taehyung and Hoseok are betas, second in command. Jimin and Jin hyung are omegas.” Namjoon informed. 

“I see.” You were taking all this in and the boys were relieved that you haven’t stormed out yet. 

“Why me?” You asked softly. 

“What do you mean?” Namjoon tilted his head. 

“Why do you all stick around me? Ever since I’ve met you all, I feel so different. Everything just feels so different when you guys are around. I don’t know how to explain it.” You shook your head, frustrated that you couldn’t get your words out.

“Do you know what a mate is?” Jin asked. 

“When animals get partners, they’re called mates.” You stated but then realisation hit you. No? Is it even possible?

“Yes, (y/n). You’re our mate. What you’re feeling is our mate bond. We feel what you feel. When we’re too far from one another, you’ll feel the strain of the mate bond.” Yoongi said. 

“Is that why Jungkook got sick?” You turned to the youngest, who nodded his head. So it was true, Jungkook really got sick because of you. It was your fault. 

“Don’t blame yourself. You didn’t know. It’s okay.” Jungkook was quick to dismiss your guilt. 

“But I’m not a werewolf. How can I be a mate to all of you?” 

“You don’t have to be a werewolf to be our mate. A prophecy was that we would all have the same mate and that’s you. You’re the last piece to our puzzle. That’s why you feel such strong emotions for us and we feel the same for you. Mates make each other stronger. Even if we’re not officially mates yets, our bond is already so strong.” Taehyung finally spoke. 

“And... how do mates become official?” You asked. The boys all coughed, their cheeks turning red. 

“It requires sleeping together. And we... need to bite you.” Namjoon let out a deep breath. Now, it was your turn to blush. You needed to be intimate with them and let them bite you to mark you? 

“But that doesn’t have to happen now.” Hoseok shook his hands to reassure you. You let out a sigh of relief. This is too much for you and if you had to give your body immediately, you think you might just pass out right on the spot. 

“(y/n). You’re our mate, we would never, ever, hurt you. All we want to do is protect you and love you.” Jungkook said. 

“We communicate through our mind links. When you officially become our mate, you’ll be able to join in too. Even if you’re a human. But we’ll take it one step at a time, alright?” Jimin patted your hand and you nodded your head.  Things were starting to make sense. 

“I’m sorry for running away.” You felt tears well in your eyes. 

“You were scared. It wasn’t your fault. We’re sorry you had to find out that way.” Jimin hugged you. 

“Will I have to leave my grandfather’s cabin?” You asked. You weren’t ready to leave your home yet. To you, it was like leaving your grandfather behind and that was something you didn’t want to do. 

“You don’t have to. Like we said, you do whatever you’re comfortable with. We won’t force you.” Namjoon said. 

“Will you accept us now?” Jungkook asked the question on everyone’s mind. 

“I may not know much but if you’re willing to teach me and we take things slow, then yes.” You nodded. Finally, all the boys could smile. They hugged you tightly and you let your tears fall from your cheeks. Hoseok wiped them with his thumbs and kissed the top of your head. 

“Can you show me?” You asked and pulled away. 

“Show you?” They were confused. 

“You know... The wolves.” You rubbed the back of your neck. The boys were more than happy to show you, it only meant that you were slowly starting to adjust and get comfortable around their natural selves. 

“Sure.” Taehyung held your hand and led you out to the front porch. This was where you saw it all happen. 

“We’ll remove our shirts since it’ll rip.” Jin explained, blushing. You choked but nodded your head. You looked away as the boys all removed their shirts. Taking a deep breath, you turned to them. 

“Don’t worry.” Yoongi whispered, cupping your cheek with a soft smile. They all took turns to shift. 

“It really is you.” You hugged Jimin, burying your face into his neck. Jungkook walked over to lick your arm like he always would when he stayed with you. You smiled through your tears and the wolves all let out whines of displeasure. Reaching out, you scratched the bottom of Hoseok’s chin, making his tail thump against the ground happily. 

“My beautiful boy.” You stroked Yoongi’s head and he nuzzled against your palm softly. 

“I’m okay.” You closed your eyes. Sitting on the edge of the porch, the wolves all settled around you. You decided to just continue chilling outside with them. Namjoon strolled onto the platform, biting his jacket and passing it to you. 

“Thank you, Namjoon.” You patted his head like he would do with you and draped it over your lap. 

Yoongi sat beside you as Jungkook, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jimin played around, chasing one another to playfully catch each other’s tails. 

“What’s this?” You touched the black crystal necklace that hung around Yoongi’s neck. He just leaned in the lick your hand, proceeding to rest his head on your thigh. Namjoon and Jin walked over to sit closer to you. Namjoon let you run your fingers through his black fur. 

“Does this mean you guys understood me from the start?” You asked them. They nodded their heads. 

“Oh no... That means you understood all my rantings.” You buried your face in your hands. Jin fell onto his back in seeming laughter. You blushed, all your crazy talk was actually understood. 

“I swear I’m not crazy.” You shook your head. Namjoon leaned in to press his nose against your cheek, making you giggle at how damp it was. 

“Maybe that’s why you guys entered my dreams as humans. It was a sign all along.” You rubbed his ear. 

“Chim!” You called and the wolf stopping rough housing with his brothers, looking up at you. Waving him over, he trotted over to you happily. He rest his front paws on your unoccupied thigh, his tail wagging and his tongue sticking out as he waited for you to talk. You laughed, remembering what happened when you first saw him in your dream. 

“I’m sorry for feeding you bland chicken.” You chuckled. 

“It’s okay!” He barked with a wolfish smile. The boys decided that it was time to change back and bring you home so you could rest and study. But they forgot one small detail...

“Ah! You’re all naked!” You squealed and covered your eyes, spinning around. The boys’ eyes widened. 

“SORRY!”

“WE FORGOT!” You felt them all rush past you and head into the house. You didn’t want to remove your hands, not wanting to face anymore unnecessary nudity. 

“We’re changed.” Taehyung grabbed your wrists gently, pulling them away from your eyes. It was true, he was already changed. With a light tug, he pulled you back into the house and sat you down. 

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” Jin asked. 

“Thanks for the offer but I think I should go home. I need some space to collect my thoughts.” You smiled tiredly. They all nodded, understanding you. Everything was already moving faster than they expected. You needed some alone time to fully grasp anything. 

“We’ll walk you home.” They offered. 

“Thank you.” You all wore your shoes and began the walk through the forest path. Jungkook was looking significantly better already. That was when you understood what an impact that you brought. 

“You look well.” You looked up at him. He nodded in agreement, tucking his hands into his pant pockets. 

“Mates also help with healing. The less stress we feel, the faster we get better.” He explained and you nodded. He gave a small smile and tucked a lock of hair behind your ear. 

“Goodnight.” The boys wished as you unlocked your door. 

“Goodnight. Thank you.” You smiled softly and opened your door. The 7 of them stood there, waving at you as you disappeared into your cabin. 

~~

Tag list

@georgie-me-myself-i @tatastaetaemainblog @dragoste-lunes @lil7bluedragon @amber-thumbs @greezenini @jisoosbitch @taozibun1 @ghostkat23 @fullvoidmoon @lovelyseomin @aclp-jb1d @mrcleanheichou @smallbaby-cat @thestrugglesofateenagedirtbag @veronawrites @hobisbeech @purelyecstacy @hxsxxk-180294 @bts-edits-bitch @namjoonies-dimple @cool-strawberry @kthsmullet @bubbletaetaesstuff @queenceline22 @rjsmochii @kawaiikpoplover268 @ervyst @lovelysky15 @legendaryweaseltreedream @tea-ay-en-you  @councilowl @daddyjoonie @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @seoul9711 @purplelady85 @shit-loads-of-angst @purplelady85​ @purpleheartsrus​ @simplymemyself​ @kpopoverart​ @andyorozco7 @alytavzla​ @xicanacorpse @killcomet @crazybtsarmy​ @cuteipat​ @starggukie​ @kookiebbyx​ @gguksfilter​ @cheychey-4788​

[ddaenggtan]

from eden | myg + jhs

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

pairing | yoongi x reader x hoseok

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Clearly,” You spit.

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

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

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

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

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

Please.

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

This one sounds hopeful.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Who the hell are you?"

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

"Am I dead?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And he can’t stay.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What do you mean, he won’t help?”

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

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

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

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

“Which is?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I know."

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

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

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

Come out, little flower.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Found you, little flower.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[adolanables]

INFLUENCED (Part 1) (G.D.)

A/N; sorry for the weird spacing, I can’t get them to go away @ tumblr being weird

Summary: Y/N is a full time college student at UCLA who has grown a pure hatred for the influencer community. Until she meets a handsome Dolan Twin who starts changing everything.

This week marked the start of your third year at UCLA. You had gotten the full college experience in the two short years you had gone to school here and you were more than ready for another year of fun. Your entire life had been spent in California and from the moment you knew what college was, you knew you wanted to go to UCLA.What you’d never expected was just how crazy the culture here was.

Studying communications had been your dream for as long as you could remember - so that is what you did. You wanted to be a sideline sports anchor more than anything in the entire world. The past two years had given you loads of experience and living in LA had been the upper-hand you desired. What you never expected was just how intense the competition for - literally everything - was. Every single class was a rabid competition to see who would be the best and who would win the professor’s favor. It. Was. Intense.

The social life wasn’t much easier - in fact - it was way worse. Instagram was GOD. If you didn’t have a phenomenal IG page, you could consider yourself excommunicated. Not aesthetically pleasing? OVER. Didn’t own a pristine pair of Air Force 1’s? LOSER. This culture drove you insane. You couldn’t for the life of you understand why what VSCO filter you chose for a photo determined how good of a friend you’d be. Thankfully, you had found a small group of friends you could count on that weren’t so engulfed in the influencer culture. The handful of you spent every weekend hopping from party to party, fully taking in the college life.

No, you didn’t love the toxic influencer culture LA had to offer, but you did love UCLA for the most part. And damn - did you love college. Your entire life you had always been a bit of a rebel. You did well in school, but once that was over, you wanted to fully disconnect from real life.

Something that drove you nuts though? When said LA influencers swarmed these parties. It was getting worse and worse and eventually every party you went to was guaranteed to be on a vlog channel somewhere on YouTube. You couldn’t stand it. You just wanted people to be able to live their normal lives without having to document every second of it for some coin.

So when you and your best girl Charlotte entered the large house, you couldn’t help but let out a load groan as you saw dozens of camera screens lighting up the area.

“Oh, come on, Y/N.” Charlotte tugged on your arm to pull you into the kitchen. “Just ignore them.”

“Fine, fine.” You held your hands up in surrender as the small blonde girl situated herself in the corner of the packed kitchen. She quickly poured the two of you a drink and shoved a red solo cup into your face. “I swear to god if I end up in some vlog squad video I’m suing.”

“I’ll make sure to let David know your requests to be edited out of the videos.” Charlotte giggled at you, rolling her eyes as she took a sip of the strong liquid.

She wasn’t kidding. Charlotte actually knew the vlog-squad - honestly - probably everyone but you on campus knew them. You had had so many chances to hang out with them, but the last thing you wanted to do was succumb to the culture you claimed to hate so much. Charlotte glanced around the room and turned her attention back to you, a grumpy pout on her face.

“Y/N, can we pleeease go dance?” She stuck out her lower lip.

“Go ahead, Char.” You smiled at her, gently shoving her towards the living room. “I’m gonna park it here until I’ve had at least three more cups of this before I can start dancing…”

“Suit yourself.” She shrugged, bumping your hip with hers and taking off towards the loud music in the other room.

You shoved the empty cups covering the counter top behind you onto the ground and lifted yourself up to sit on the cool granite. The spot you were in gave you a full view of the entire room, a little bit of eye-line into the living room as well. This was one of your favorite things to do at these parties - people watch, You took a big swig of your drink and started to observe the people around you.

There were a few boys surrounding the kitchen island talking, shot-gunning beers, the usual. Some girls were around them trying to get their attention, elbows propped up onto the countertop to show off their cleavage. Quickly, your eyes traveled over to the dance floor where bodies rubbed together viciously - the smell of sweat lingering in the air. The glow of cameras was prominent in that room - which made sense - that was the most stereotypical area of a party. What fun would a vlog be if they were just sitting in the kitchen the entire time - right?

You crossed your bare legs over each other, pulling your denim skirt down to cover up your thighs slightly. As you trained your eyes on the red liquid inside your cup, a deep voice interrupted your thoughts.

“Interesting drink?”

You tilted your head up to see who had interrupted your very intense analysis of what you were drinking. Your Y/E/C eyes met deep hazel ones, you quickly took in this man’s face - a strong jawline, dark hair pushed back from his forehead slightly - he looked familiar.

“It was actually reading a haiku…” You joked, internally giggling as he furrowed his thick brows in confusion. “Kidding.” You assured him, setting your cup down next to you. “You look familiar, do you go here?”

“I do not.” He shook his head, taking the opportunity to lean against the wall next to you. “This is actually my first ‘college’ party.” He chuckled, tucking his hands into his tight black jeans.

“Ohh, a newbie.” You wiggled your eyebrows at him. “I swear I’ve seen you somewhere…” You squinted your eyes at him, analyzing his face.

“Uh, well - YouTube, maybe?” He questioned, his voice lowering as he mentioned the Y word.

“Oh, shit.” You sighed, realizing who he was. “A Dolan twin - that’s who you are.” You threw your head back and laughed. “What in the world are you doing here? Aren’t you two supposed to be like God’s gift to 15 year olds?”

“Shut up.” He rolled his eyes, glaring at the ground. “I got invited and figured I might as well see what all these parties are about.” He shrugged, glancing back up at you and all of the people in the room. “Seems kinda overrated.”

“Well.” You nodded, agreeing with him. “It used to be more fun, but now you can’t do anything without it being filmed… so it’s changed.”

“Sounds like my life…” He muttered, his jaw clenching for a moment before taking a deep breath and shifting his weight. “Anyways - what’s your name? I’m Grayson.” He extended his hand for you to shake.

“Y/N.” You gave him a tight-lipped smile as you awkwardly shook his hand. What is this, a business meeting? “A lone Dolan twin at his first college party? Sounds like a great video.” Teasing him gently as you gripped your cup and took another sip.

“Let’s just say you and I both will be avoiding any and all cameras tonight.” Quick to reach around you and grab an unopened water bottle, the tall boy settled back into his position on the wall.

You furrowed your brow at him for a moment, trying to understand why he was here if he wasn’t filming it AND he wasn’t drinking. Why would anyone even come to a party where they don’t know anyone to just… stand? Quicky shaking the judgement from your mind. You were honestly impressed a YouTuber had managed to hold a conversation with you for more than 30 seconds without you wanting to find the nearest exit.

Yes, you’d heard of the Dolan Twins - who hadn’t? Especially being around this industry, they were a pretty popular name. To your surprise, you really hadn’t ever seen them at any UCLA events. It was like they didn’t even live in the same city as the rest of the content creators.

“So, do you just sit here all night?” He questioned you, his lips turning down slightly as he saw you fill up your cup a second time.

“Usually? No.” You shook your head, taking another sip of the red liquid. “Once upon a time I’d want to dance or something - maybe meet someone new…” You wiggled your eyebrows at him suggestively, noticing his face turn a light shade of pink. “But now… I don’t know, just really hate everything being broadcast at all times.”

“Understandable.” He nodded. “Well… I definitely don’t get the hype…” He chuckled as some guy threw up into the sink a few feet away from you all. “I’m gonna head out, Y/N. It was nice to meet you.”

“You too, Dolan.” You grinned at him as he wandered back into the crowd, looking for the nearest exist.

As his dark hair disappeared in the crowd, you couldn’t help but feel kind of bad for him. As much as you dogged on the influencer community, you didn’t often think about the ones who didn’t fit the mold. There were thousands of people out there who genuinely liked video editing and creating and didn’t really sign up for all the frills. The Dolan twins had never really struck you as guys who didn’t enjoy the culture at least somewhat, but maybe you were wrong.

-

Your night ended pretty standardly, the ceiling above you was spinning wildly as you took in deep breaths, trying to will yourself not to puke. After Grayson had disappeared, you had wandered around to find Charlotte, the two of you taking shots and continuing to dance the night away.

It was nearing 3 AM now and you knew you wouldn’t be sleeping anytime soon. The effects of alcohol always hit you the worst when you were alone. It was impossible for you to sleep when you were this nauseous. Trying to ignore the sick feeling, you grabbed your phone off the nightstand and blinked twice as you saw an Instagram notification on your home screen.

*graysondolan has requested to follow you*

Hm, interesting. You thought, rubbing your tired eyes as you unlocked your phone and opened Instagram. Yup, there he was - blue check and all. Before accepting his request, you went to scroll through his page. You rolled your eyes at all of the shirtless beach pics and hard-eyed glare to the camera professional shots too. Sure, maybe this kid didn’t like parties - but he was 100% into this culture. The picture of him with a drill in hand, shirtless, building what looked like a desk is what sent you.

You begrudgingly accepted his request, secretly hoping he’d hated his party experience so much that you’d probably never see him again.

*new direct message from graysondolan* your phone lit up once again, eliciting a groan from your dry lips

*2 photos on your entire instagram? impressive* you rolled your eyes at Grayson’s comment. You just didn’t like pictures - okay?

Quickly typing a response to him, you hesitated for a moment, wondering if you should wait a while to send. You’d already opened it though, so you really had no choice.

*my next one will be leaning against a surf board shirtless, just wait*

*very funny ;)*

A small smile played on your lips as he took the dig quite well. Truly, you weren’t really sure what to say to that, so you locked your phone and went to sleep.

--

“Come onnn, Y/n.” Charlotte whined over the phone, her high-pitched voice making you pull your phone away from your ear. “Please come, you know I can’t stand these things without you.”

“Charlotte, no.” You huffed, tidying up your small room. “You know this is my WORST nightmare, I literally love you, but I can’t go to that.”

“Y/N, pleaaase.” You could almost see her pouting through the phone. “David personally invited me… I would be California’s biggest idiot if I just didn’t go.”

“Can’t you find someone else?” The thought of attending a Youtuber bonfire on the beach - everyone in swimsuits - seemed like pure hell.

“I’ve asked absolutely everyone at least three times.” She sighed. “Everyone is going out of town… except you.”

-

Sweet, sweet Charlotte had managed to drag you along to this dreaded bonfire. She had been such a good friend to you for the past two years, it was so hard to tell her no to literally anything. It was still really warm in Los Angeles, so you had a pair of high-waisted denim shorts on with a simple black bikini top. A warm flannel dawned your shoulders to protect you from the possibility of chilly wind.

“Okay, Y/N.” Charlotte slipped her arm through yours as the two of you made your way down the sandy beach. “I know you hate these people, but please just pretend to be nice.”

“I know, I know.” You giggled, your heart beating faster as you saw the orange glow a little ways down the beach. As you two got closer, a few large men stepped in front of you - all in black and asked for names and ID.

Truly, you understood the need for security - you really did. But at the same time, there was not a single other person on this beach and the three minutes they scrutinized the IDs was just ridiculous. They finally let you through as Charlotte spotted David over the large man’s shoulder and he walked up to guide you two inside.

“Hey, I’m David.” He extended his hand to you and you shook it firmly.

“Y/N.”

-

To say you were miserable was an understatement. Every single person around you was filming this event. It was a cluster-fuck of voices, each one trying to speak over the other into their own cameras. Charlotte was still next to you, but was deep in conversation with some girl with purple hair. To make matters worse, there was absolutely no alcohol here - for monetization purposes.

Realizing Charlotte was good to go, you tightened your flannel around you and quietly made your way down to the water. As you got away from the loud group of people, you took a second to appreciate how beautiful of a night it really was. You splashed your feet in the water as it lapped around your ankles, quickly sitting down in the dry sand just a few inches away.

You had managed to sit out there for about thirty minutes, just staring at the water, before you felt someone sink down into the sand next to you. Quickly flicking your eyes over to the body next to you, you let out a sigh of relief as Grayson’s face came into view. The glow of the moonlight lit up the peaks of his face, just enough for you to make out his smile.

“When did you get here?” You muttered, digging your hands into the wet sand.

“About ten minutes ago.” He stuck his feet into the sand in front of him, copying what you were doing with your fingers.

“And you just saw a random human in the water and thought it’d be a good idea to approach them?” Your voice was dripping with sarcasm.

“Maybe.” He shrugged, his eyes glued to the side of your face. “Or maybe your friend up there thought you had been murdered and we were all looking for you.”

“You’re lying.” You gasped, whipping your head back to the large fire, trying to see if there was any commotion.

“I am - but she did mention your name. Then, I saw a sad person sitting out here all alone, so I figured it had to be you.”

“Hey - I’m not a sad person.” You shot back, knocking your knee into his.

“I don’t know, sitting in wet sand in complete darkness sounds like something a sad person would do…” He raised an eyebrow at you, willing you to respond.

“Well, why are you doing it?”

“So you’re not alone?” He responded as if it was the most obvious answer. His dark hair was flopped over his forehead once again, a tight white t-shirt on his upper body and a pair of teal swimming trunks gripping his large thighs.

“Oh, how kind.” You rolled your eyes at him, directing your attention back to the water.

“Why are you here anyways? Don’t you hate this stuff?” His voice was softer as he focused on the water hitting the back of his knees.

“Because I happen to be a phenomenal friend.” You chuckled as he yelped at the cool water coming up higher than he expected. “But she was pretty occupied, so I took my chance to sneak away.” You shrugged. “What about you?”

“My brother wanted to see some girl that’s here.” He shrugged, glancing back up towards the bonfire. “I love the beach, so I didn’t think it could be all that bad…. When I walked up and saw everyone vlogging I instantly regretted the decision.”

“You talk a lot of shit for someone in the middle of all that.” You scoffed at him, his very try-hard instagram feed popping up in your head.

“Ouch, okay.” He held his hand to his heart, acting as though you had really hurt him. “I mean, it is my job - I can’t just have two instagram pictures.”

“Fair.” You nodded. “And I’d have more pictures, I just hate every photo of me ever taken usually.”

“I don’t believe that.” He shook his head, wrinkling his forehead at you. “Here -” He whipped out his phone and made a silly face, making you laugh and roll your eyes at him, pushing your arm out in an attempt to block his camera. The bright light flashed and suddenly you could barely see.

“Ughhh, I hated that - delete it!” You groaned, shutting your eyes momentarily.

“Nah, I think you should post this - your annual Instagram photo.” He grinned, holding his phone out to show you the photo he’d taken.

The bright flash was shining off the black water behind you, the flannel tucked around your upper body complemented your skin and hair. The loose ponytail you had tied was falling out and pieces of hair framed your face. Mostly, the large grin on your face paired with the full eye roll he captured made you genuinely like the photo.

“Okay, that was pretty good.” You agreed, laughing at your facial expression. “*Trying to drown myself at my first influencer party* seems like a great caption.”

“Hysterical.” He chuckled, thrusting his phone into your hand with a blank contact page open. “Put your number in so I can send it to ya.”

You quickly typed in your contact info and handed the phone back. He took a second to send you the photo and shoved his phone back into his pocket. “Well, I should probably get back up there before Ethan starts to miss me.” He shrugged, pushing himself up off the sand and extending his strong hand to you. “Wanna head back?”

“Uh - I’m okay.” You shook your head at him, biting your lip and looking back at the wet sand. “Thanks though.”

“Alright, well - have a good rest of your night Y/N.” He grinned at you softly, tucking his hands into his trunk pockets and heading back towards the bonfire.

If you were being honest with yourself, you would’ve acknowledged you didn’t want to go back with him because you didn’t want to have to talk to anyone. Being around all of these rich, famous, beautiful people made you so uncomfortable. Most of the time you could count on being completely ignored, but if you had walked back up with Grayson you were sure you’d have to at least answer questions from someone.

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Logically Speaking: Three

Each visit to a jail in a trek to start with but the process of getting in and out is fucking hellish. Things that hadn’t changed now that you’re a card-carrying superhero. You sit across the table from your mom and wait for her to talk.

She’s back on drugs again. How exactly they get drugs into jail you don’t want to think about, but you know that she is. Her pupils are fucking blown out and she’s twitching. “Need anything mom?” you ask finally. It takes her a few minutes to answer and when she does speak, it’s like she doesn’t even realize who she’s talking to. “Just another Margarita please.” You sigh and hang up the phone. She’s so fucking high she thinks she’s at a goddamn restaurant.

You leave without another word. There’s no point. If your mother ever did really love you, the stress and strain of having a sick kid and two other kids. The drugs and the violence had all sapped it away. Love was conditional. There was no such thing as loving someone for themselves. Or at least, not loving you for yourself. The drive back to the compound gives you time to think and dry your tears. None of the team had ever seen you cry and you wanted to keep it that way. You prefer not having your emotions used against you.

You slip into the tower and pause at an unfamiliar voice. Great. There’s another one. Just what your life needed. You take a deep breath and try to slip past, keeping your head down and moving quickly. You can’t handle anything else today. You need a shower. The jail always makes you feel disgusting. It smells of mold and unwashed bodies. Desperation and pain. It clings to you in a way you can’t ever quite explain. Not even to yourself. You make it to the elevator just barely. The doors are already closing when someone calls out to you. You really need to start carrying headphones with you at all times. Even if you aren't even listening to anything. It makes it a lot easier to ignore people. 

Thor looks after you wonderingly and Bucky smirks a little, “New recruit,” he explained, “Stopped a speeding train, leveled half a city block. Fury told her it was us or the raft.” Thor nods and frowns, The Raft is for terrorists. You don’t look like you fit the bill. “We stuck our foot in it,” Clint said with a sigh, “she’s currently doing her best to ignore us all. It’s easier than dealing with all of us being fucking assholes.” Thor nods, that made sense. You didn’t seem to be the kind to enjoy conflict. You looked like you were used to hiding. To getting quickly out of the way. “Has she got anyone she talks to?” he asked. You looked upset. Sad. Tired. The kind of tired that needed peace. Nat shrugs, “She’ll let me talk at her. Sometimes. Most of the time she doesn’t leave her room. She’s just kind of uncomfortable anywhere else.” Thor nods, “Perhaps I could get her out of her room,” he said shrugging, “I wasn’t here when you were all being... unfriendly.”

“You are a giant ray of sunshine,” Tony says with a snort, “But I think this is going to take more than a smile and a bone-crushing hug.” Thor smiled, “Indeed, but it’s worth a try.”

_________

In your room, after a shower and a change of clothes you still feel gross. You don’t want to be around people. At least not these people. You miss your people. Your found family that was all too afraid of you now to reach out. You just want to sit by a bonfire, drink your way through a case of cider, and eat food that doesn’t taste like plastic. You just want to go home but there is no such thing as home any more. That’s all gone. The one thing you had. The life you made for yourself out of the slag heap you were handed. The work you could do was gone. You weren’t a hero. You just weren’t. 

As you curled up in your bed and stared out the window you ignored the knock on your door. No training today. No prying. You just want to wallow and be sad for a while. No one wants you here. “Y/N,” Nat says quietly, “C ‘ mon, I know you’re there.” There was a pause and when there was no answer she sighed, “Look, Thor’s back from Asgard for a while so we’re going to go out tonight. Come with us?” You haul yourself off the bed slowly. The general ache in your body tells you your depression is hitting critical mass. Opening the door is hard and you have to lean on the wall. You’re fucking starving. Almost literally. It’s so hard to eat when nothing sounds good or tastes good. “No,” you say simply, “I really don’t want to.” She winces. You’re pale. Really pale and the puppy fat on your face is melting into angular cheekbones and a more defined jaw. She’s willing to bet your clothes are all too big too. You manipulate energy and it happens all the time whether you think about it or not. So your metabolism needs feeding. She nods, you don’t look like you could go out, even if you wanted to. “Thor really wants to meet you... I showed him the video of you throwing Steve around. He thought it was great.”

You nod. Betray nothing. No emotions. All she gets is a blank stare and Natasha wonders if your first words were 1,000-yard stare. And how you managed to be so bright and sharp working with your clients. How you pulled off the bubbly effervescence that had marked all your work when it was clear that you were being eaten alive. “Come downstairs and meet him at least,” Nat encouraged, “He’s like a giant alien labrador retriever puppy.” That description makes you smile a little. At least your lips twitch. You pull on a cardigan against the chill you felt and nod, not bothering to do anything with your hair. Or put on shoes. You’ll be running away again as soon as you can. Nat walks next to you and you try to master the anxiety in the pit of your stomach. Anxiety makes it hard to control your powers. Some of it is reflexive. You need to maintain control. In the commons, Bucky jerks his head towards where you’re standing with Natasha and Thor turns. He bounds over and goes to pull you into a hug. It’s a fraction of a second. Not even a whole moment but he found himself swept off his feet and tossed backward. Away from you. It’s not like Steve. You had had control then.

Thor was 4 feet off the ground and hurled backward. Roughly through a glass door. A human would have been injured. Seriously injured. You slap both hands over your mouth and start backing up. You look terrified. That had been completely unintentional. You’d been trying to shift yourself out of the way and thrown Thor instead. The Asgardian slides to a halt with a booming laugh and brushes himself off. No one is looking at him. Everyone is staring at you and you’re backing away. Hands over your mouth. You look like you’re trying to find an exit. Any exit. Any door to get out of this room before someone hurts you. He stops laughing. Careful to move slowly and keep his hands where you can see them. He sets his hammer down. “Lady Y/N,” Thor says, smiling, “I am unharmed. My apologies. I should not have tried to touch you.” Thor wonders how long it’s been since anyone touched you at all. Since you let yourself be close enough to someone. “I’m sorry,” you say swallowing hard. Tony looks from you to the broken glass to Thor, “It’s fine. I have a better idea for that wall anyway.” You stand frozen when your back hits another wall and slide down it slowly. Your knees just can’t hold you. Throwing Thor backward had taken the last bit of strength that you had. He was really fucking solid and so it took energy to move him. A lot of it. Your face is so pale you almost blend in with the wall. 

Natasha is closest to you and she kneels next to you. She touches your forehead carefully and you’re cold. “Y/N,” she said, “Hey.” She taps your hand and your face as your eyes close. You can’t keep them open any more. You slump over and she hisses. “FRIDAY!” Tony yells, “Grab Bruce. And medical. We have a situation.” You were breathing. But unconscious. Bucky helped Medical get you upstairs. He figured if you came to, you were less likely to hurl him through a wall. You never really talked to Bucky either, but Bucky hadn’t been antagonistic towards you.

______

Bruce looks up from the file. Detailed accounts of the medical experiments they’d done to you and glances at Natasha. She was waiting anxiously. The spy felt responsible for you. You were still a baby, really. At 23 you were the youngest person on the team and this wasn’t anything you wanted. “Dehydration and malnutrition... Starting weight 145 pounds. Current weight 120. In less than 60 days. She winced and took the file he proffered. “What’d medical say?” she asked. “Not much,” he says, “They all think she’s a terrorist and don’t really think she deserves the help.” She nodded, “I really wish Fury had nipped that story in the bud. I don’t think it’s helping her at all.”

The scientist shrugged, “Well. Regardless. She’s not in fighting shape. And won’t be for a while.”

“Yeah,” Natasha sighs, “That’s obvious. We can’t send her on missions like that. If she doesn’t accidentally hurt someone she’ll hurt herself. Possibly on purpose.” Bruce’s turn to wince, “I could see it. She’s depressed. Not a shock really. Her family is all in jail. Her friends think she’s a terrorist. And her co-workers treated her like a time bomb... It’s not like she has much to go on.”

Nat looked towards the elevator and back towards you. That was it. It was time for a little intelligence gathering. 

Tags: @ultramagicaltacofandom

[mbakusthrone]

Questions

Summary: You already know, Reader and M’Baku are best friends, a mean girl, senior trip, all the usual stuff!

A/N: I don’t really have a tag list, so if you would like me to untag/ tag you let me know!

@madamslayyy @muse-of-mbaku @bidibidibombaclaat @destinio1 @chaneajoyyy @greennightspider @supersizemeplz

What a way to end senior year. Yesterday had been just fine, I was laughing and having a great time with my friends…”friends”. The ringleader of our little clique, Farai, had gone into a little tantrum. Everyone practically kissed the ground she walked on, because she was the daughter of Commander Akwasi. Rich, beautiful, and a practical shoe in to be named Chieftess for M’Baku’s coronation. In fact, M’Baku was the whole reason I had gotten into this mess. My mother was the royal doctor, and for a majority of our childhood, M’Baku’s mother always seemed to be sick, so with all the time together, M’Baku and I just naturally became best friends. We did everything together, at least until about two years ago. M’Baku of course shot to the top of social ranks at school, and with training, sports, royal duties, and his coronation just around the corner, he didn’t really have time for me. I didn’t mind. At least, that’s what I told myself. I was trying not to mind, but I missed my best friend. M’Baku noticed, and asked me to join him and his family on their trip to the Udaku Graduation Ball for Prince T’Challa. I was excited, and thought maybe my friends would be excited too. We were packing for the senior trip and I mentioned it. Farai went off. Told me I couldn’t be her friend anymore, as if that was the highest punishment in the world. With Farai went everyone in the school. No one would breathe near me, let alone look or talk to me. While everyone else was partying in their apartment sized cabins, I was stuck in a glorified outhouse, laying on my cot. Alone. I hoped at least M’Baku was having a good time.

There was a soft knock at the cabin door. I looked up, frantically wiping my face of tears, drool and snot. Was it Farai? Come back for more insulting? (“And another thing!”). I got up and slowly opened the door. There was nothing. Just a night sky and snow quietly falling. I rolled my eyes and prepared to close the door. A prank from Farai, I’m sure.

“BOO!!” M’Baku suddenly jumped into the doorway, limbs splayed out like he was some giant monster bat. I screamed bloody murder and slammed the door shut. I clutched my chest and set my back to the door. From the other side, M’Baku was booming with laughter. After my heartbeat slowed, I slowly began to giggle. “Can I come in now?” M’Baku called out, his voice still holding the ghost of laughter.

“Absolutely not!”

“Oh come on...it is cold out here!” I could hear him rest his head against the door. “I could die, you know.”

“Promise?”

“Y/N!” He said, using his deep, command voice. I slowly opened the door and poked my head out.

“Is that voice supposed to scare me?” I teased. M’Baku smiled, pushed the door open and walked past me. I smelled a hint of liquor on his breath. He took in my little cabin. A cot, a rocking chair that looked like it was about to fall apart, and a tiny fireplace. He arched an eyebrow.

“Looks like a party in here.”

“Yeah,” I scoffed, “I’m a whole party animal. Speaking of, why aren’t you out with everyone else?”

“I got bored. Wanted to see you.” M’Baku said with a childish grin. He was tipsy, I could tell. M’Baku grabbed my duffel bag. “Come on, you can come stay with me, it’s warmer.”

“There better be food, and a bathroom!”

As M’Baku and I hiked up to his cabin, we passed Farai and her disciples. Farai’s eyes widened as she watched M’Baku lead me into his door. M’Baku looked over and gave the group a wave. They hesitantly waved back. Farai admonished them, saying something I couldn’t hear.

There was in fact food, and a bathroom. Of course M’Baku’s cabin was practically a house. He was right, it was warmer. There was a whole kitchen and two bathrooms. M’Baku threw my bag by his bed and collapsed on it, the bed creaking under his weight. I joined him, I guess we would have been looking at the stars through the skylight, but it was covered in snow. The light of the moon peeked through the little holes of the snow. This used to be a common occurrence for M’Baku and I, long talks on either of our beds.

“I missed this.” M’Baku shared the same sentiment. He turned on his side to me. “Let’s play a game.” I copied his move and turned to him.

“Okay, like what?”

“Questions, we’ll take turn asking questions”

“ Easy enough, do I start?”

“Yes, now it’s my turn.” M’baku teased. I rolled my eyes. His face became serious.

“Do you think I’ll be a good Chief?” M’Baku asked, I almost scoffed.

“M’Baku of course you will be, not just because of all the training, but because I know you the best. You have a heart of gold, and your biggest concern is the best interests for the Jabari. I know you’ll be great.”

This is not the first time I had given him this speech, but I knew sometimes he just needed to hear it. There was a pause before I realized it was my turn.

“Oh..um..do you think there’s alien life out there?”

“What no!! It has to be a serious question.”

“I am serious! That was a serious question.”

“No, I’m being real, ask a real question!”

I rolled my eyes. “Ughhh, okay. I start all my science classes next year to get ready for medical school. I’m super scared, how do you think I’ll do?”

M’Baku laid a hand on my shoulder. “Don’t even think like that. You’re the smartest girl I have ever met. You’ll graduate with honors while I’m barely keeping up. Then you can live with me like your mom and take care of me forever!” He said with a toothy smile. I laughed.

“I don’t think my husband would enjoy that very much.”

M’Baku’s face became dark. “Okay, my turn. Have you chosen a suitor for courtship yet?” I shrugged.

“Not yet, I’m not thinking of anyone. Not like anyone my age will talk to me. Plus, I’m not sure if I want to declare a courtship until I graduate medical school. What about you? Farai, right?” I asked. M’Baku rolled onto his back again, his arms stretched out, hands holding his head. I absentmindedly poked his bulging muscles, he had really bulked up the last two years. M’Baku sighed.

“Y/N, what do you think, if…..” He hesitated. If he was thinking I was going to judge him for choosing Farai, I wouldn’t. Kind of. Sure I would be disappointed that he would marry that brat of a girl, but it was the right thing for the people. “...what if we chose each other for courtship?”

I slowly raised up, onto my knees and looked down at him.

“......what?” I squeaked, my voice a little higher than I intended. M’Baku sat up and put a hand on my knee. I couldn’t take my hand off his hand, my knee felt incredibly warm from his touch. “What if we….? What?!” I squeaked again.

“I’m saying at my coronation, what if I chose you for courtship? For my Chieftess?”

“M’Baku...are you serious?” I said incredulously. M’Baku had a glint of embarrassment in his eye. M’Baku removed his hand from my knee and scratched his head.

“Is it really so insane to think of being with me?”

I blinked at him. Was this really happening? There was pain in his eyes. He was serious. I took his hand in both of mine, squeezing it tight.

“Oh, M’Baku, I don’t know. I’m not...I don’t know how to be a Chieftess.”

“How would it be any different than our friemdship now?”

“It would be totally different M’Baku! There’s duties, and training, and work and being in a relationship and….” I gulped, and didn’t finish my sentence.

“Sex?” M’Baku said lowly, a smile creeping on his lips. I punched his shoulder.

“M’Baku! I don’t know how to do all that stuff! Plus with medical school, I just...I just don’t know.”

“Y/N, you know I would support and...teach you every step of the way, just like you can support and teach me. I can’t think of anyone else to choose.”

My face softened.

“M’Baku…”

“Y/N, can I kiss you?”

I looked into his eyes, gleaming with anxiety and anticipation. My eyes followed the contours of his face, his strong eyebrows, plush cheeks, strong jaw. Heart thudding in my chest, I moved closer to him. He followed suit, his eyes never leaving mine. He leaned in, taking the lead. I closed my eyes and froze, lips parted just slightly. I slightly jumped at the touch of his lips against mine. They were soft, very soft. He deepened the kiss, he tasted like liquor and a slight taste of apple. I breathed in deeply, the smell of his cologne filling my lungs. I took his face in my hands kissed just a bit harder, I couldn’t explain it, but I wanted mold myself into him somehow. M’Baku placed his hands on my waist and pulled away. I pressed my lips together, reveling in his taste. M’Baku just stared at me for a second.

“M’Baku, can you teach me?” I whispered. M’Baku looked confused.

“Teach you?”

I softly laid on my back.

“Can you teach me how to be a Chieftess?”

[winryofresembool]

EdWin one-shot: A Food Fight (of sorts)

Summary: Ed and Winry are preparing to move in together a bit before their wedding, but of course things don’t go like planned. (could be canon ‘verse or whatever universe you want!)

A/N: my part of the fic-art trade with @mavistuffz! I was planning to finish this way earlier but sometimes life and writer’s block happens :/ Either way, I really hope you’ll enjoy this! It’s probably not quite what you had in mind, but hey, it’s EdWin, so that’s the main thing, right? :’) Let me know what you think!

Words: 2900+ (hey, at least it’s p long?)

Genre: fluff

Warnings: swearing and some sexual implications, I guess (nothing bad tho)

Ed and Winry had only one month left till their wedding, and that meant a lot needed to be done before the big day. The quests had been invited, dresses and suits bought, the venue and the theme colors chosen (to Ed’s surprise, Winry had even allowed a little bit of black in the decorations because it had been his wish), but that didn’t mean they were anywhere near done.

Perhaps one of the biggest tasks they needed to do before the wedding was moving into their own house. It had been decided they’d move to Rush Valley after returning their honeymoon, which meant their new home needed to be organized before the wedding. That only added pressure for the bride and groom who had been stressed even before the moving.

They had found a nice small place near Garfiel’s, something Winry was happy about despite her teacher’s playful accusations that one day she’d open her own automail shop and steal all his customers. While Winry was dreaming about opening her own shop at some point, she had a secret she had only told Ed so far, a secret that would affect her professional career quite a bit. That’s why she was perfectly happy to work with Garfiel until she was financially stable to start her own business. Ed would still continue doing his research, and he had also received an interesting offer from General Mustang. He had suggested Ed become an alchemy teacher in a nearby university that had been opened recently. The young man had been a bit reluctant, reminding Roy he couldn’t even perform alchemy anymore, but afterwards he had told Winry he might consider it. That way he could spread important information that could help them avoid the misuse of alchemy in the future.

The couple finished carrying the last pieces of furniture (Winry only carrying light clothes boxes because of her condition) and decided to take a breather before starting to organize the smaller objects into their shelves. They had decided to start with the kitchenware because they were planning to spend the night in their new home and cook something for their helpers, Al, Garfiel and Paninya.

“Whew, I thought we’d never get it finished,” Ed swept sweat from his forehead and took a couple of steps back to see the final results of his work.

“Can you believe it? Our first home together,” Winry marveled as she watched the view from the kitchen.

Ed walked right behind her and wrapped his arms around her belly. “Well, technically we have been living together for quite a while now…”

“You know what I mean,” Winry remarked. “This isn’t my granny’s place, this is yours, mine and the baby’s.”

When Winry said the last word, Ed’s hand automatically sought the still non-existent bump and rubbed it lightly through her shirt.

“Do you think she will be angry?” Ed asked worriedly.

“About the baby? She’ll probably say something like ‘you damn kids start way too early these days’ and then congratulate us. I’m pretty sure she and my grandfather weren’t married yet when they had my father…”

“The old hag is something else,” Ed snorted. “Remember what Dominic told us about her?”

“Hey, this is my granny we are talking about! Please have some respect, she let you live under her roof!” Winry reminded him and slapped his hands away from her belly.

“And while there, I also got her granddaughter pregnant,” Ed laughed and earned an elbow on his ribcage.

“Ouch!”

“Sometimes I don’t know what I see in you.” Winry shook her head and turned to stare at her fiancé judgingly.

“That’s too bad because I do recall you promising to give 85 per cent of your life to me.” Ed smirked at her smugly, and she stuck her tongue out at him.

“I might still change my mind about that, Mr. Elric.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t, future Mrs. Elric.”

“Oh, about the name…” Winry seemed to taste the word with her tongue, “how would you feel if I changed my last name to Rockbell-Elric instead?”

“That sounds good to me.” Ed nodded. “I know you are proud to be a Rockbell.”

“I am. But I’m also glad you have your mother’s last name because Rockbell-Hohenheim would be a monster to say.”

“I won’t disagree with you on that. Anyway, should we start organizing the kitchen?” Ed asked. “The others might come any minute now…”

“Sure thing. I’ll carry the dry foods here, you can set them where they belong.”

The work progressed rather peacefully, until…

“What?” Winry yelled suddenly. “The chocolate doesn’t need to be in the ice box! Why would you put it in there anyway? I was planning to eat it soon because the Truth knows I’m in need of something with a lot of sugar and fat right now.”

“Oh, here we go with the cravings…” Ed mumbled under his breath, but unfortunately for him, Winry heard him.

“Excuse you, mister, I would like to see you carry a child for 9 months and see how much chocolate you want to eat!”

“Relax, Winry, I didn’t mean… I was just going to put it in there because it’s hot outside and you really don’t want it to melt, do you?”

“Fine, then… just don’t make that mistake again!”

“I won’t!” Ed promised quickly, knowing it was dangerous to fight with Winry right now.

The couple continued to fill the shelves and closets, but it wasn’t calm for long.

“Did you… did you buy blue cheese even though you know how much I hate it?” Ed nearly screamed when he opened the ice box again. “It’s even grosser than the milk it’s been made of! It has fucking mold on it!”

“Oh, I’m sorry. I try to remember that the next time we go do some grocery shopping. The same way you hopefully remember to not buy pickles! Even the smell of those things makes me throw up, Edward!”

“You never told me that!” he claimed. “Of course I wouldn’t have bought them if I had known!”

It was a half-truth; now that he thought of it, Winry might have mentioned something about pickles earlier, but he hadn’t remembered. If he had, there was no way he would have bought them.

“I most certainly did!” Winry argued. “Do you remember when I got sick the other day after seeing your sandwich? It was because it had pickles on it. And I remember clearly saying: ‘don’t ever eat those again near me’! You just never listen!”

“I do listen! It’s just, when you go ‘don’t do this, don’t do that’ all day, every day, some things are just easy to forget!”

“You know what, Edward? Fuck you. I really really don’t know why I’m gonna have a wedding with you in a month.” “Winry! I’m sor…”

Ed didn’t get to finish his apology before Winry marched out of the room, slamming the door angrily behind her.

“Oh, great,” Ed growled to himself. “I screwed it up again. Just when we were supposed to move in here too…”

Ed didn’t get to fume alone for a long while, because Al and Paninya chose that moment to return from their break.

“Why do you look so murderous? Not that you don’t always look a little bit scary, but isn’t this supposed to be a happy day?” Al asked, raising his eyebrow questioningly.

“If there was a moment when I wished I’d be able to hit myself, that would be now,” Ed stated, making the other two glance at each other with confusion.

“OK?” Al tried to get his brother to elaborate a bit.

“I got her mad again,” Ed said after a while. “And in the worst possible moment too. I know she’s been particularly sensitive lately, yet I couldn’t stop in time…”

“What do you mean when you say she’s been particularly sensitive lately? Is there any specific reason for that?” Paninya had become good at reading other people’s emotions and she could sense Ed was hiding something from her. He turned away from the other two, running his hand through his hair in frustration.

“I… uh… you guys weren’t supposed to know yet… she wanted to tell you herself. Oh man, she’s really gonna kill me when she finds out…”

“Brother? Could you please talk like a normal human being? I don’t understand a word you said.”

“I shouldn’t tell you!” he tried one more time, even though he knew he had already lost this battle.

“Wait a second…” Paninya had a moment of realization. “You said she’s been sensitive lately… she’s been spending a lot of time in the toilet, and… you guys didn’t tell us what you are going to do with that spare room… She’s pregnant, isn’t she?”

“I… Fine… Yes, she is.” Ed stuttered, seeing it was too late to deny it anymore.

“Way to go, guys!” Pan exclaimed and smacked Ed on his shoulder in a friendly manner. “Although, I admit I didn’t think you’d have it in you. Usually you blush when she’s simply in the same room with you. I gotta talk to her as soon as possible! But you, mister,” she pointed at Ed, “You need to talk to her first. I remember hearing something about a stupid argument earlier, and I won’t let you get away with it that easily. Go make it right. That’s what she’d tell me if I was in your situation.”

“I guess you’re right,” Ed sighed. “Why does it have to be so damn hard, though? Hey, Al?” Al hadn’t gotten a chance to say anything yet, he was just standing there, looking dumbfounded.

“You’re having… a baby? I’m… gonna become an uncle?”

“Yes,” Ed said carefully, scared of an explosion even though he should have known Al would never react like that.

“That’s… that’s so amazing, brother! I’m so happy for you!” the younger brother suddenly exclaimed and rushed to hug Ed.

“Take it easy, Al,” he tried to calm him down, although he was secretly very happy and relieved about his reaction. “I can’t breathe!”

When Al finally let go of him, he got an idea.

“Hey, before I go to talk to her… There’s something we could do.”

Ed dragged Al to a grocery store, and when they got to one of Ed’s favorite sections, he asked:

“Which flavor do you think she’d like? Nuts? Salt? Berries? Just regular?”

“Shouldn’t you be the one to know that?” Al asked back. “You’re the one who’s gonna get married to her.”

“Shut up, Al. Oh, look! There are even skeleton shaped ones! These are so cool!”

“Edward,” Al said with a warning tone, “remember that you are buying them for her, not for you. She would not like that.”

“Fine. What would you suggest then?”

“I say you should try to make them special. Something she can’t buy from this store. Hey,” he pointed at one shelf, “there are molds there! Look at this, don’t you think she’d like this?”

  After buying the products for preparing the special gift, Ed and Al told Paninya to go and distract Winry while they’d be working in the kitchen. She was still sulking upstairs, and the boys didn’t want her to come down before they were finished with their work. Paninya agreed after hearing the brothers’ plan and climbed the stairs to the bedroom, stopping to knock the door.

“Who is it? Ed, if it’s you, I swear to Truth I’m in no mood to…”

“No, it’s me, Pan.” The dark-haired young woman said calmly.

“I guess come in then,” Winry replied. Paninya wondered if she had heard a bit of disappointment in her voice.

“I heard what happened,” she said. “You know, I don’t usually defend your idiot of a boyfriend, but he really is sorry.”

“If you came here to talk for him…”

“No, I came here because you’re my friend and of course I’m worried about you.”

“OK.” Winry calmed down and sat down on the bed, folding her arms on her lap.

“Uh, please don’t get mad,” Pan said after trying to decide how to tell her the news, “but… he accidentally revealed your secret. Or rather, I guessed it when he said some weird things.”

“Oh great. That idiot. I really didn’t want you to find out that way,” Winry sighed, understanding Paninya must have talked about her pregnancy. “I was supposed to tell you soon…”

“It doesn’t matter, Winry! I’m happy for you, I really am! It’s just, you guys seem to get into a fight over smallest things, and what if… what if it gets out of control and one of you says something you can’t fix?”

“Trust me, that thought has crossed my mind a few times. But don’t worry, at the end of the day, we still love each other. He may be an idiot, but… he’s still my idiot. And besides,” Winry blushed fiercely, “afterwards, making up is always fun.”

“That’s too much information, Win!”

“OK, OK, sorry. But it’s not just the sex, he’s always super sweet and thoughtful after a fight. Sometimes he cooks something good, and once he even let me use his favorite leather jacket… You know how he loves that thing.”

“Wow. Sounds like you have him totally wrapped around your finger.”

“Even though I hate to admit it at the moment, he does that same to me,” Winry’s face got even redder. “There’s a reason why I’m marrying him, after all. But what is taking him this long?” She suddenly got worried. “Usually he comes to find me a lot faster…”

“He’s… busy doing something.” Paninya said carefully, not wanting to reveal the secret Ed was preparing.

“OK. He’d better do it fast, though,” Winry complained. “I’m getting really hungry here.”

“You have already forgiven him, though, haven’t you?”

“When you are fighting with him as much as I am, you kinda have to learn to do it fast.” Winry smiled.

“You seem to enjoy the fighting, am I right?”

“I guess you are. I wouldn’t be able to be with someone who never challenges me.”

“Aww. Then you are definitely marrying the right person.”

“Hey! Only I have the right to insult him!” Winry exclaimed, pretending to be angry, but soon burst into laughter.

The girls changed the subject and started talking about baby related things, like the baby’s sex and name suggestions. At some point Al peeked into the bedroom and told Paninya Ed and he were ready.

“Where are you taking me?” Winry tried to pry when Al came in and tied a scarf around her head, so she couldn’t see what was happening around her.

“It’s a surprise. That’s why there’s a blindfold,” Al said and spun Winry around a couple of times so she wouldn’t be able to figure out their direction too easily.

“I don’t like surprises,” Winry tried to protest but followed Al when he dragged her forward.

“Are we there yet?” she asked impatiently when her future brother-in-law seemed to take her in and out of a lot of rooms.

“Soon, Winry, soon.”

They stepped into a room that had been empty before the fight because the couple had agreed that they still had plenty of time to organize it. When Al took the scarf off from Winry’s face, she didn’t recognize the space at first. There was a chest of drawers for the baby’s clothes Pinako had given for the couple (not knowing they’d be using it for this purpose, however), a shelf for toys and other things (a surprisingly cute dragon plush already sitting there), a table for changing the diapers, and…

“A crib?” Winry asked aloud when she saw the object she didn’t remember seeing earlier. “When did you have time to get this?”

“Just a little while ago… You know, Al helped a bit…” Ed said, referring to his alchemy. “But I added some things of my own in there. And I would have added more but Al didn’t let me.” Al rolled his eyes at his brother, knowing he had wanted to make the crib black and add some spikes and gargoyles here and there. He’d have to hide Ed’s drawing from Winry…

Winry pulled the blanket on the crib away and saw a huge bowl in there. And the bowl was full of…

“Chocolate wrenches!”

“If you want to throw me with them… go ahead.”

“No way!” Winry said and took one chocolate wrench into her hand excitedly. “I’m going to eat this right away!”

As she munched happily, Ed said: “I’m sorry about earlier. I know this moving in and the wedding and now the baby too have been stressing you… I shouldn’t be the one to add you even more stress. And I promise to listen to you more often now. By the way, I threw all the pickles away too.”

“That’s good. I shouldn’t have nagged you about the chocolate either. And you don’t have to eat the blue cheese if you don’t want to.”

“You know I don’t,” Ed snorted and went to hug his soon-to-be-wife.

“We’re a pair of idiots, aren’t we?” Winry murmured when she snuggled her head against his shoulder.

“I guess we are. Hey, we’re not skipping our favorite part of making up, though?” he whispered, trying to make sure Al and Paninya weren’t hearing.

“You give me some real food first, and we’ll see what happens after that,” Winry said with amusement, intertwining their fingers.

“It’s a deal.”

A/N: In case you missed it, I drew a picture of Ed’s version of the crib. Check it out!

[ffxv-chocoheadcanons]

addfssf a new headcanon blog, nice!Welcome! 🥂 ghghghgj OK i'd like to request some headcanons about the chocobros like they've madly fallen in love with their s/o, how would each of them try to make them his? Thank you and I hope you'll have fun with this one

ohhhh This is gonna be FUNAlright, lets give this a go, i hope this turns out well for you, its the best i could think of. im sorry its so LONGGGGGG

im taking this as well as the boys didn’t confess there attraction to there s/o yet so lets have some love sick Chocobros im so so so so sorry if this is really bad ;w; this has taken me some time i started around 5:30am and it is now 8:30am i am proud of this being long but also im sorry if this is horrible

Noctis

He is a mess.

He will sometimes stare at them for a long time without even noticing it

He’s stuck in dreamland.

The guys have caught him several times looking at you and just lost in his own mind.

Prompto has a lot of pictures of this, he finds it hilarious

Nocts face gets so red when you caught him looking at you last time, he didn’t say anything but looked the other way and at the fire at camp, or hey! Look the ground suddenly became the most interesting thing EVER.

One time he was so lost in his mind he ate his Veggies, this surprised everyone, mostly Ignis, he even told Prompto to get a picture of the poor love sick puppy

In a battle he might mess up his footing, maybe fall more because he was distracted.

In the heat of a fight on a hunt or something he would be more protective over you, watching your movements.

Tends to take even more hits for you no matter how much you tell him not to.

Noct will also try to show off in battles trying to out do the others in complex battle moves that cause him to fall over and have you save him.

Noct would ask you to come fishing one day

If you agree to it, he is so distracted in the way you look, from you’re beautiful (h/c) hair that just falls perfectly around you’re face, how you’re skin looks in the light

Oh, welp there he goes again

Noct wouldn’t pay attention to the fishing pole in his arms and would end up getting a big fish, and much to him being stuck in la la land he was pulled into the water.

Hey, it was worth it, he got to see your face light up and laugh as you are asking him if he’s okay

In the Regalia, you would be stuck in the back seat between him and Gladio

Noct being Noct always falls asleep, but this time, he would lean on you and fall asleep.

The reason being is that you’re warm, and feel comfy as well as smells nice to home, something that just comforts him making him fall deep into sleep.

but he did slip up one night at camp

Alright, little story time!

Everyone went to bed already and you and Noct sat around on your phones playing King’s Knight. you beat him and where happy about it but turned to face him and was caught off guard. he was looking at you with his deep blue eyes the fire having a soft glow to his face. “Noct? you okay?” you asked him as his face started to heat up some from being so close as you sat together. “Six… your beautiful (y/n)” You went dead silent hearing those words. not knowing what to say you looked down at your hands playing with them as reality slapped Noctis in the face. “Wait! No! what i was trying to say.. is.. uh, six this is hard Look.. (y/n) i.. i really cant get you out of my mind.. you beautiful and just” without another though he leaned in closer his hand resting on your face to face him as his lips meet yours. Nocts lips molded with your own before he pulled away some looking at your (e/c) colored eyes with his own blue ones. “What i’m trying to say is that.. (y/n) i want you to be mine… will you?”

Prompto 

Sunshine Boy

He’s a mess as well

Maybe even more than Noct

He will look back in the mirror from the front seat of the Regalia, maybe a little jealous because you’re between Gladio and Noct.

Prom would ask you to pose for more pictures ending up with a lot of them. And he has a few he keeps to himself because, you are just so breathtaking to him. He doesn’t want to seem like a stalked but, this one picture he has of you is amazing.

The picture is of you and him. He is holding the camera out more in front of him with a blush on his face and a wide smile. You are on his left side lips pressed to his cheek for a joke of the picture, a sweet kiss to his face arms wrapped around him pulling him down some to give him the playfull kiss on his cheek.

When you talk to him, he fumbled over his words a lot of the time, his face turns a deep shade of red when you laugh, or if you try to joke with him

In Hunts or battles he might be more skittish or more worried about you

Always asking if you are alright

Prompto has gotten even more closer in combat as well even with his guns to try and protect you more

He becomes super worried when you are injured

Even if it’s just a small cut from like the bush you fall backwards into

“Prompto it’s just a small cut, i’m fine” “But! But it could turn into something worse! You never know (y/n)!”

The Sunshine boy can take only so much

He even might go to Gladio for some kind or advice on what to do

Horrible idea as well

Gladio is never going to let him down on his crush

Gladio opened his mouth as well to the others, but not yet to you he wanted to know what he would do.

We all know Prompto is a fun loving guy, he would be slightly more touchy as in wanting to get a high five after hunts, or suddenly cuddling you inside the tent as he was asleep or just wanting a hug at random times with a huge smile on his face.

He would try to swap seats with Gladio or Noct to try and sit in the back seat with you more often, he is horrible in trying to think of why he wants to.

“I can get better pictures back here!”

“Just wanted to sit in a new stop is all”

“Back seat is way more comfy than the front seat”

“Gladio wanted to sit up front for now”

SCARED. He was scared that you might not feel the same about him like how he feels for you. He was scared that you might hate him after this.

 “Prompto?” You asked glancing back as he started to slow down and came to a stand still. He looked liked he was going to fall apart with the emotions on his face. “Prompto?” you asked again turning around to walked closer to him. Turning your head to look at the blonds violet eyes he froze, he was lost in his own mind while again as he was walking. “Prompto are you okay?” You asked again feeling concern for you’re normally happy Chocobo loving friend. With a sigh he moved his gloved hand to rub the back of his neck looking at your (e/c) eyes.

“(Y/n) i need to tell you something, it’s really important that’s why i asked you to come out with me this morning.” he hesitated looking at the ground before taking in your face, you’re (e/c) eyes held concern in them with some strands of your hair falling in front of them. Without thinking he reached his hand out pushing it to the side of your face and way from you’re eyes not yet talking but looking at your face. Taking in a deep breath he let the words fall from his mouth without thinking about what came out of them. “(Y/n) you’re the most beautiful girl i have meet before, and i can’t stop thinking about you, i get all messed up in my head and i can’t get you out of it, i have feelings for you and strong ones i know i might sound like a idiot and you might hate me now but i needed to tell you this-” 

“Prompto” You interrupted him and he looked at you with a sad look on his face, he knew it you didn’t feel the same. He opened his mouth to say he was sorry but stopped feeling your hands on his cheeks. “Prompto you cutie, it’s about time you said something” pulling his face down some you peper his face is small kisses all over the freckles on his face. Getting a smile out of him from the feelings of your lips on  his face you finally brought your lips to his. When you finally let his lips go he pulled you into a hug, finally Finally you where his, its adorable Chocobo. 

Gladio

Gladio is way more clumsy when he’s in love.

Drops things

Loses balance with his sword in fights

More than once made a horrible mess when he was eating and actually blushed

He tries to not stare too long and when you catch him he plays it cool as if you had something on you or grins and throws a playful smirk or playful look on over to you.

He is a flirty guy but calms down around you

In a fight or a Hunt he will be hard on you

Like really hard, but that’s because he doesn’t want to see you hurt or worse, get yourself killed

In the Regalia if you are tired he doesn’t make a fuss about you falling asleep on him. At times he might put his arm over the back of the car to let you lean more on him

He finds it cute hearing the small snores that come from you.

When you sleep like that in the car he might end up playing with the ends of your hair, or running his fingers in it as he reads or tries to fight sleep himself.

Gladio does not fall asleep in the car often but he can and mostly will if you fall asleep on him.

If he is reading a book he can tilt it for you to read along with him in the car.

You become close to Iris, and iris love you a lot

She will always want to be around when you are Gladio are together in the same room

It’s frustrating for him but he gives in each time

He jokes more often with you and talks a lot with you more than he does the other Bros.

At Camp he will ask you to come with him on morning jogs or even ask if you want to spar with him before Prompto and Noct wake up.

When you Spar he has a hard time trying to really get in the swing of things

One time in a fight he accidentally grabbed your butt because he fell over when you tired to turn away and hit behind him but was crushed under him

“GLADIO!!!”

“IM SORRY!! I didn’t mean to!! Really!!”

It was the most embarrassing thing ever, that whole day he didn’t say anything because he felt horrible.

He thought he really did blow it with you because that whole day as well you never said anything to him.

It was horrible for the other 3, a Hunt didn’t go so well and you nearly got killed because you kept thinking about Gladio and how his stupid face was just so Stupid and What was he thinking!

Gladio game to your rescue Hitting the Sabertusk that was over you as you struggled getting it off your arm before he shouted at you to get up and get back, as well as to get your head out of the clouds.

But the Night he came to tell you he was sorry was the night he opened up.  It was at Cape Caem when iris noticed something was up between you and Gladio, there was no laughing between you both like normal, There was no small talk or playful jokes going around.There was a strong tension. Iris walked over to you on the couch and sat down looking at the bandage on your arm.

“(y/n) ? What happened? Gladio really looks upset?” she was concerned and you sighed before rubbing the bandage on your arm before wincing. 

“It’s nothing iris, just a small argument about something and me not really thinking all that well” with a small smile Iris didn’t say anything but watched as you got up. “I’m going to get some fresh air, you head to bed it’s getting late” she didn’t say anything but watch you and nod. It was getting late it was almost 1am. Watching her head for the room she slept in you glanced up to see Gladio standing there watching you and Iris. With a slight glare at him you turned away and walked out of the front door. Gladio sighed as he rubbed his face thinking. He almost lost you today, almost lost you to a Sabertusk. Thinking to himself for a while he needed to do something, maybe say he was sorry about the Sparring match and maybe with him blowing up at you during today's hunt.

Walking to the front door he opened it and looked around to see if you were nearby. But he didn’t see you. Walking around some more to see if you are near by he seen you by a tree near the cliff looking out at the water that was near the lighthouse. 

“There you are” he said as soft as he could with his rough voice. You jumped a little before turning your head away to the water. He stood there for a moment looking at you. You looked breathtaking, the way the moon washed its light over you in the dark, the wind from the water moving your hair slightly. He felt a blush creep up his neck some and over his face before shaking  his head and coming closer. You glanced up at him from the ground you sat on before looking away as he sat down as well.

“(y/n)..  I Wanted to say i’m sorry” you didn’t answer him when he spoke causing him to huff in frustration. “Look, i’m trying to make up for what i did” Gladio grumbled leaning forward to try and look at your face. “Look… (y/n) i… i am really sorry about it alright, i.. I don’t know what i would have done if i lost you today to that Sabertusk” he sighed as you turned your head a little hearing him. “I guess what i’m trying to say is that i want to protect you.. I want, i want to hold you in my arms and call you mine” he said with a heavy blush on his face looking over at you. “And i don’t know if i really fucked that up”  it was silent for a while, Gladio knew he messed up, he knew he blew it. Taking his jacket off his placed it on your shoulders standing up to walk away. He only got a few steps before something gripped at him from behind in a tight hug. You’re face was pressed into is back holding onto him. Gladio turned to face you with a bit of a fight because of you’re grip.

“You didn’t fuck up…” You mumbled into his chest before looking up a blush on your own face. He smelled so nice and just was so warm. 

“Then.. will you be mine? Let me be your shield and protect you?” he asked with a small smirk on his face feeling his heart swell when you nodded your head. Taking his arms he wrapped them around you kissing the top of your head

Ignis

Ignis is the most calm out of them all

Well on the outside that is

Inside he wants to scream out his frustration.

He really doesn’t have the slightly clue what to do.

There have been times he would look at you from over his glasses as you laughed with the guys around the fire, and ended up using the wrong spice.

He once over cooked something once because you were talking to him and he was so lost in your voice he forgot to watch the food.

One time you offered to help cook and he never blushed so hard in his life

You stood next to him arm brushing his some as he kept his face turned to the food trying to keep himself calm and collected.

He sometimes writes poems in his little notebook he has with him about you, a few times he tried to sketch out your face, but he can’t get it right, you’re nothing compared to real life.

He will compliment you in the mornings when you get up before the others. When you are up in the mornings just you and him he will give you a cup or Ebony.

Sitting by the old fire in the mornings relaxed and calmly talking, when it’s at this time he may fumble over his words more and call you sweet things like, Flower, or  Dear.

he doesn’t even notice he did these things till you pointed it out to him when he calls you lovely.

In the car he may drive more safely.

He will try to hold small talk with you as the other guys are loud and joking.

In fights he will be more careful, and try to watch you as well as Noct taking several hits that were meant for you.

Ignis would find the smallest things you do adorable. From that tapping of your fingers, to how you smile or how you laugh. It would steal his heart and hold it tight.

Now, ignis doesn’t seem like the type to get jealous often but he does, and it’s hard to keep himself from glaring at people from under his glasses

There have been a few people who flirt with you only to be sent away buy him because of how hard he was glaring behind you.

Ignis may be more accepted of hugs from you if you are a hugger. Other people he will refuses.

One time Ignis was caught staring at you by Gladio, it was at the worst timing you dropped your fork and grumbled leaning over to grab it. Gladio noticed ignis have a small blush as he watched you and put two and two together bursting out in a laugh patting Ignis on the shoulder.

When Ignis finally said something about his feelings, it took him a long time to think if all over. His heart was aching because of the strong feelings for you. He asked you that night if you wanted to help him in the morning to make breakfast for the guys. You agreed liking to help him in the morning. That night ignis couldn’t sleep at all. He was thinking over what to say, what could he tell you to make you his, to make you his one and only. He finally fell asleep but it was short as the sun started to rise. Sitting up he grabbed his glasses sliding them in his face. He hair was down from his normal style. With a huff he fixed it a little but let it all again as he was tired from the lack of sleep he go. Looking over to your spot in the tent he noticed you’re body was gone as well as Gladio.

“Probably already on his morning run” Ignis mumbled to himself getting up and leaving the tent. Seeing you already up with a cup of Ebony sitting in one of the chairs he smiled at you. You looked beautiful, the way the sun washed over you’re skin as well as you’re flowing (H/c) Hair. he loved it, he loved everything about you. With a small yawn he got his own thing of Ebony and walked over. “Good moving Dear” he smiled. You looked up from your phone and gave him a wide smile as well. 

“Morning Iggy, sleep well?” You asked locking the screen and placing it down on your leg.

“As well as i could with Gladios snoring” he brought his drink up to his lips taking a drink. You watching him as he did so eyes soft still tired. “Well dear, Shall we start on the food? The others should be up soon.” With a nod you stood up with a slight grin on your face walking over to the cooking things. 

“Hey, Iggy”

“Yes?”

“You left your notebook out here last night” You said holding it up for him to see as he got up from his chair. A blush formed over his face and neck as he couched a little. 

“Yes, thank you i need that for the recipes as well as small otes i need to remember” he walked closer not looking at you but at the bag of food nearby and the cooler.

“Hey, Ignis, you know.. You’re good at writing poems and drawing” you said with a small smirk on your face hearing him drop something.

“Dear, did.. Did you read it?” he asked turning to face you. With a nod you watched him place things down and fix his glasses on his face. “Well… um.. I guess my feelings are ow out in the open” With another not you watched as he was thinking about his words, and what to say next, what should come from his mouth. “(y/n), it is true, i do hold deep feeling for you and have for quite a while. And.. well i want to know if you would be mine” he said smoothly. In all honesty he was shaking he was frozen in his own head. With a smile on your Lips you reaching out for him and pulled him down you’re lips meeting in a sweet kiss. The taste of Ebony still on both of you lips.

“Get it Specs” a voice called from behind him making him freeze seeing Noct standing there with a tired looking on his face but a grin with Prompto next to him looking at his Camera with a large grin on his face. Gladio chuckling next to them arms crossed over his chest. “About time Iggy, i was thinking i would have to step in and play matchmaker” the large male said as he grabbed a thing of water. “Now, when is the food going to be done or do you two need some alone time?”

[readerwinterbarnes]

Motionless Pt. 12/?

Bucky x Reader, original characters

Summary: What work is Albern finishing and what was his brother up to? And why does it involve Bucky and why the hell were you involved?

Word Count: 3,740

Warnings: Language, character injury, graphic stuff, depression, angst

A/N: Guys we have come a long way in this series, thanks for sticking with it. We still have ways to go, but we’ll get there!

Wanna Recap? Part 11

vvv (Albern looks like this, btw) vvv Creepy right?

You couldn’t move, well, you could but if you did hot searing pain shot out from everywhere. Your shoulders were far from numb, you could no longer feel anything besides the pain that was inflicted upon you. Time wasn’t a part of your life anymore, considering you couldn’t tell the difference anymore. How the hell could you in the first place? You were in a semi-dark room, hanging from the ceiling from your wrists, feet bound to the floor in rusty iron cuffs. They transferred you into a different room a few days after Alberns “play time”.

You weren’t sure why and you no longer cared. The only good thing that came out of the transfer was when you felt a slight breeze hit your face. Man, it felt amazing to lay down and not hang from the ceiling. Sure, you were placed on a stainless steel table that was cold as fuck, but hell if you cared.

You knew this wasn’t going to last very long, so you were going to cherish every single moment of it. You watched as the ceiling lights passed over you as they wheeled you down the damp, murky hallway to your new room. Well, the room where Albern would just continue to cut, dig and mark your skin. He always saved your spine for last though, each day he would cut even deeper into the base of your spine to get at Tony’s and Bruce’s little contraption. No patch of skin was untouched, besides your lower abdomen and thighs, everywhere else was marked in one way or another.

It wasn’t much longer until you were hauled off the table and strung back up in the same position you were taken down from. A scream made its way up your throat, but you didn’t have to strength to even let it out. Your throat was so sore from all the screams and curses you spewed out from the multiple days you’ve been here, so it just came out as a groan. Bane finished cuffing your feet to the lock on the floor and stood off to stand beside the door, awaiting further instruction.

You’re not sure how much time had passed since your new buddy Bane brought you here. The numbness of your body was slowly disappearing as every sensation slowly regained its place. Your subconscious was swarming with all the newest signals of fresh and old pain.

You felt the pain of the cuffs locked around your wrists and ankles digging into the tender skin that was being rubbed away. How the fabric of your bra and panties stuck to your skin from the blood that soaked into them just hours before. How trails of the crimson liquid were now nothing but smudged, dark, cracked rivers on your skin. The stinging sensation every cut and burn gave you when you moved. You’ve handled pain many times before, but this pain was nothing like you ever felt before. The pain you experienced usually came quickly and took its time leaving you.

However, this pain stuck with you every second, minute, and hour of every day. It was a pain that would never leave you, a pain you’d always remember. You no longer had the energy to do anything except breath in and out, but even then it was difficult when you had a few broken and bruised ribs.

You missed Steve and his awkwardness. You missed Tony and Bruce’s excited voices when they finally figured something out that’s been plaguing their minds for days. You missed Sam and Clint’s pranks you always took part of. You missed girl’s night with Wanda and Nat. But most of all, you missed Bucky. Your Bucky. The man who always stood by your side, through thick and thin, who stood up for you, protected you. The man who promised to marry you. But now, you don’t think you’ll live to see the day where you got to walk down the aisle in a white dress. To say ‘I Do’ to the man who changed your life. You miss home, and home was wherever Bucky was.

A dull light filled the room when the door was opened. If someone was to see you a few days after you were brought here, they would’ve seen you cower back in fear, caught like a deer in headlights as a predator stalks its prey. But now, your reaction is completely different, shut down, no longer reacting to Albern’s physical presence. Sure he still gave you a sick feeling in your stomach, but you weren’t going to give him the joy of actually showing him how much he affected you.

Because if you did he’d try a different technique to pull another reaction from you, but if you didn’t show any form of emotion that meant his techniques were far more painful. You kinda wished one of Albern’s goonies would come in and give you a gold star for all your hard work, considering you’ve lasted this long. Like that was going to happen, they only gold star you were ever going to get was on your headstone when he finally manages to kill you and drop you onto the Avengers compound front step.

“Ah, you are awake. How do you like your new living quarters? I thought you’d like the cleaner room.” You scoffed at his smug face, bullshit he was giving you a cleaner room.

The room you were currently in, was three times as worse than your previous one. It was dark, mold spots on the walls and floors, rats were most likely hiding somewhere and the room smelled like shit. He took off his black hat, coat and adjusted his glasses on his face. Which made his small beady eyes even sicklier.

“I like what you did with the place. Are those new wall fixtures? Because I’d really like to meet with your decorator, I need to get my own place upgraded.” Your voice hoarse and dry from lack of water, but you managed to give him a weak smile. Not wanting to back down, still gathering whatever will you had left, to fight back. There was no way you wanted to die, not today, not tomorrow or a week from now. You needed to live for Bucky because he would want to live for you.

“I must admit my dear, you are stronger than what my brother perceived. Which is really good on my part I have to say, it will help for what is coming next.” You always believed he was bluffing whenever he said that, but man were you so wrong.

The first time he said that you didn’t believe him and you got shot in the thigh. The second time, he shot your shoulder, which hurt like a bitch because you were hanging by your arms and the bullet lodged itself pretty deep. But what could possibly be worse than what he’s already done? What else could he do to cause you more pain other than to kill you?

“It has been really exciting to have you stay with me over the past month Y/N, but I am afraid we need to push on. I am nearly finished with my brother’s work and the only thing we really need now is Bucky Barnes and you of course, but you are already here.” The doctors made their way towards you, pushing a table with medical tools along with them.

“You are probably wondering what I have planned for you. (Brothers name) has slaved over this work all throughout his life. Having Hydra give him exactly what he needs, helped him work grow faster. Quicker.” You watched as one of the doctors stepped behind you, the sound of rubber gloves snapping sent a pang of fear through you. Your skin was still very tender from the last time they poked, prodded and sliced through you. A pain you did not want to go through again.

“P-Please, don’t…” Your once strong exterior was finally cracking under the pressure. He was finally winning and you couldn’t let him get to you, but there was only a certain amount of pain you could take.

“But I must, Y/N. Pain is part of the process, whether it be physical, mentally, psychologically. It just brings us one step closer.” He nodded slightly and your body tensed as the man behind you sat down on the chair and shifted closer.

You could feel the tip of the blade slowly prick your skin, slicing over the partly healed would. You tugged on your restraints, biting your bottom lip to hold back the scream making its way up your throat. Tears streamed down your face, leaving wet trails through the blood and grime that covered your once clean skin. Albern held your face in his hands until your noses were about to touch.

“Es wird sehr schmerzhaft sein.” (It will be very painful) Your arms jerked as the scalpel cut deeper, you tried to get away from the source of the pain, but there was nowhere for you to go. “Sie haben genau das, was ich will.” (You have exactly what i want) Another slice was made but deeper. “Was ich brauche.” (What I need) He slid his hands away from your face, down your torso, resting them on your hips. His thumbs running smooth circles on your lower abdomen. You hated having his hands on you, all you wanted to do was to bash his face in, break every single bone in his hands. But the fucking restraints prevented you from doing just that. So all you could do was just jerk away from his touch as best as you would not like it helped anyways.

“Bucky hat, was ich brauche.” (Bucky has what I need) He gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, only adding the several ones littered across them. You were forced to stop moving when you heard the sound of metal against metal from behind you. Your nerves began to tingle, a new numbness spread through your limbs as if ice was melting against your skin.

Everything was fine until a sharp pain, one you’ve never felt shot straight up your spine. You cried out as fire like pain radiated at the base of your spine, but it was gone as soon as it came. Gravity was now in control, your legs crumbled underneath you, but strong hands held you up. Alberns face now replaced with Banes. The doctor finished patching you up, packed up his materials and stood next to the others.

Albern stood behind you, his voice hot in your ear. “Aber mit Ihrer Hilfe, geben Sie ihm, was er braucht.” (But with your help, you’ll give him what he needs) He gave orders to the other doctors, but his voice sounded muddled to you. Your senses started to become overwhelmed, there were too many things to focus on. So many thoughts ran through your head, what the hell happened? What was going on? Why were you involved? What did you and Bucky have that he needs?

All you could tell was that you were moving, you were no longer hanging from the ceiling, but instead being placed on a gurney on your stomach. You couldn’t feel anything past your waist and that scared the shit out of you. Your gaze happened to fall down to your hand and that’s when you realized he also took something else from you too. Your ring finger was gone, the ring that was once there was gone. The last physical piece of Bucky you had. The last piece of him to help keep you strong.

You tried to keep a hold of whatever strength you had, but even that grip was slowly fading into nothingness. The events that have transpired over the past month you’ve been held here finally started to overtake you. No matter how hard you tried to move, the pain would always remind you that it was present. It was now the only friend you had in this hellish prison, but it wasn’t the friend you needed.

“What did you do to me? What do you want from me?” Your voice was scratchy and hoarse from overuse. Albern crouched down eye level with yours, he took off his glasses and just stared at you. You could feel his eyes roaming over your figure, lingering in certain places. Eyes bright as he took in his handiwork.

“All in good time, my dear. Your questions will be answered soon enough.” He slipped on his glasses back on and stood up. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a message to send.” His footsteps echoed down the hallway, leaving you alone with the other men in the room. One doctor lifted your left hand and wrapped it up after cleaning it up quickly. He then laid it by your side, as the others busied themselves with bandaging your other wounds. You weren’t sure why they were doing this or why they even bothered. You were practically dead anyways.

They didn’t clean or bathe you, they just bandaged whatever cut, stab wound, bullet hole, etc. they could find. So you let them, you let them handle you, however, way they chose, not like you could stop them even if you tried. It wasn’t much longer until you felt yourself being wheeled back towards the back of the room. Bane walked up and handcuffed both your wrists to the metal bars of the bed they transferred you to. The transfer hurt like a son of a bitch, you bit your lip hard enough to draw blood, but you welcomed the pain. It reminded you that you were still alive. Barely, but alive.

Now it was just knowing how much longer it was going to stay that way.

                                                 ------------------

                                                   Bucky’s POV

One month, three days, and four hours. It’s actually quite funny when you look at it, how this short of time makes it feel as if a year has passed. Because it surely felt like it did.

I tried my best to stay busy, spending most of my free time in the gym, burning off all the extra energy, frustration and anger off. Fury thought it was best if I stepped down from bigger missions for a while, but I was cleared for smaller missions.

However, I could no longer go on my own, because the bastards knew I would just abandon the mission altogether and go hunt down the bastard who took her. Of course, that was a few days ago. I did try to steal, well borrow, a quinjet and leave on my own, but fucking Steve had to find me and pretty much drag me back into the compound. So I was put on a forty-eight hour lockdown, or at least until I calmed the fuck down. Like that was ever going to happen. The only way I was going to fully calm down is when Y/N was safe in my arms again. To feel her arms around me again.

Thankfully the room I was locked in wasn’t all that bad, it didn’t feel like a prison, just a small room from a dinky motel. A bed with a simple comforter, a bathroom, and a small TV. There wasn’t much for me to do in here, I’ve read all the available reading material that was stashed in here. Even had my own special spot to mark the days I’ve been in here. At least this time it was only for a forty-eight hour period instead of being cooped up in here for a few days. I was getting out later today, it took forever for two days to pass.

Closing my eyes for the umpteenth time, I tried to get some sleep, but that was short lived when the door burst open, practically tearing off its hinges. I bolt out of bed when I take in Steve’s appearance. His skin was deathly pale, a light sheen of sweat covered his face, eyes wide with shock, anger, murder, fear, god there were so many emotions flickering across his face it was hard to keep track.

“Steve? What the hell is going on? Are you okay? Are you hurt?” I take a tentative step towards him, my own nerves going off like fireworks. My instincts already told me that something really bad happened if it made Steve break the door down. But the longer he stayed silent, the more I grew irritated.

“Steve, you better tell me what the fuck is going on before I’m going to have to force it out of you.”

“He sent us a package….,” his eyes finally locked with mine, “it’s for you.”

“Yeah….and?” Steve’s skin seemed to grow paler. “Buck, there’s blood on the box.”

My heart stopped and I couldn’t breathe. Besides the newspaper message, this was the only thing we got from him. The only information we had on Y/N. I let my feet take control, letting them steer me out of the room, towards the elevator and to where everyone else staring at the box, expecting it to explode in their faces. My eyes locked onto it and sure enough, there was blood on the box. But more than I thought there would be, it was smeared all over the sides and across the top. It was fucking everywhere.

I slowly walk up to it, actually contemplating if something was going to pop out and grab me. But nothing did, instead, there were clear instructions on the top that it was “For J.B.B. Eye’s Only”. I accepted the knife Nat offered me and hovered it over the top where it’s taped down. I took a deep breath and sliced open the tape. Placing the knife on the tabletop, I slowly opened up the flaps. The air around us went tense as everyone held their breath, anxiously and nervously waiting to see what the box contained. Everyone’s view of the contents was blocked, giving me space to open it. But I regretted it as soon as I opened it.

“Oh, god,” my stomach churns, gut clenches and my face pales. Inside the box laid on black charcoal silk with a red Hydra insignia in the center, was the Stark contraption Tony and Bruce invented for Y/N. It was covered in dark crimson and a few pieces of dried flesh. But the object beside it, made me stumble backward to the wall, breathing heavily. Y/N’s ring finger, her engagement ring still attached was placed carefully in an indent of the black silk. The room blurred as the team rushed around in a fury.

They each took turns in peaking inside it, each one coiling back in shock and horror. I started to shake, giving my legs permission to drop me to the floor. Flashes flickered across my mind in a frenzy. Y/N laying in a dark room, bleeding to death, hand infected from the missing finger. Lying there helpless, unable to move, completely motionless with no way to defend herself. I was supposed to protect her and I couldn’t be there to even do that. I felt so defeated, angry, horrified, pissed off. (Brothers name) brother surely knows what he’s doing, he’s playing with me, toying with my mind and he knows what effect it’s having on me.

All I could focus on right now was the burning anger welling up within me. This bastard’s had Y/N long enough and I no longer cared what happened to me, I needed to get her back. If you could see me, you’d be smart enough not to approach me, as for I was in killer mode, burning holes into the floor. And they knew something was definitely up.

“Buck? Bucky talk to me? Please don’t do anything stupid.” Steve was crouched down a few feet in front of me, knowing it’s best to give me space. I don’t say anything, instead, I stand up and start to walk out of the room.

“Buck, where are you going?” Without a second thought, I rear back and punch a hole into the concrete wall. My breath was ragged, a low growl rumbles deep within my chest. All I saw was red.

I needed to kill someone.

And that person was Y/N’s capture. My hand exits the hole, falling into a tighter fist at my side. The urge to hit something was growing immensely, however, the urge, want and need to kill someone grew even stronger.

“Buck?”

“Steve, I really need to hit someone. Fuck, I need to kill someone. So if you’re not volunteering for either, I think it’s best you leave me be. I suggest you don’t come to the gym for a while.” It was no easy task to get those words out, let alone to hold back from adding another hole in the wall to match.

“Bu-” I whirled around and crowded Steve’s space, causing everyone to go on alert.

“When we find that fucker, no one, absolutely no one lays a finger on him! That bastard is mine and mine alone. I’m gonna kill that son of a bitch and you’ll stay the fuck out of my way.” He gave me a nod in understanding, knowing full well not to get between me and my target. He grips my shoulder tightly, eyes hard and full of hate.

“Bucky, when you find him. Give him hell and make sure it hurts.” I nod at him curtly, then leave to head towards the gym, really needing to beat something up.

“I’m coming for you Y/N. I’m coming for you and that bastard. You better be ready, because there’s no way you’re making it out of this alive and in one piece, you piece of Hydra shit.” I grumble to myself with each heavy step I took. Someone was going to die and I’m going to fucking enjoy it.

Part 13 - Coming Soon! 

Motionless Tag List:

@marvel-fics  @green-spotlight  @sebs-sugar-cookies  @akm0o  @extraterrestrialsky  @allyp1023 @skeletoresinthebasement

Help Me Tag list:

@believeitseeitdoit  @ellen-reincarnated1967  @suchwildloveisthis  @skeletoresinthebasement  @9erfect-9osts  @loverofthosebands  @xoxoaudreymarie  @dead-silence  @winter-in-wakanda  @azaleawardrobeo  @isaxhorror  @lostinspace33  @musichowler  @callie-swagg1 @capandbuck @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world @everythingintensifies @melconnor2007 @screechinginternetcoffee @hellstempermentalangel

Everything Tag list:

@candycountries @sebseyesandbuckysthighs @marvelatmytrash @oh-goodness-loki  @jotink78   @foreverlovecaptainswan  @pickylittlebitch  @just-call-me-mrs-captain  @buckyismyaesthetic  @imgettingmarriedtobuckybarnes  @shes-a-little-weird-but-perfect  @anxuanpham  @saladalpaca  @specs15  @morganosborn101  @earinafae  @frolicsomefawkes @chameerah @sorryidontspeakgrounder-world @the-witching-hours12-3 @unevenpages  @graceforme86 @badassbaker @4theluvofall @thisisdeja-vu

Tags always open! Let me know if you want to be tagged! 

[bob-sheldon]

A Temporary Condition.

Plot: Steve is sleep deprived, hurt and having a rough time of it. Will his boyfriend exboyfriend rise to the occasion? Fluffy romantic H/C.

Content warnings: Child abuse, cheating, drinking, language and other canon-typical shit.

A/N: Thank yall for the 400 followers! Also this story started out really good but I got my wisdom teeth removed and I feel like Steve got progressively more OOC? Anyway it’s still good work for someone on painkillers lmfao.

Slam.

The cold Tulsa night hit me like a smack. The screen door hit my drunk father in the face, he stepped back rubbing his nose, giving me enough time to get out of grabbing reach. My old man was bad enough when he wasn’t boozing up. He was always irritable and mean but alcohol added a level of unpredictability I particularly despised.

“You little bastard. You’re in for it this time, you no good bastard! This is the last time you pour vinegar in my Jack Daniels bottle! Come here and take it like a man!”

‘Bastard’ was one of those words my father pioneered and used uncontrollably, especially towards me. It was supposed to cast doubt he was my real father and let me tell you I couldn’t care either way. I hope my real dad is still out there, boozing it up in Gatlinburg and missing his only son. This man who gave me a bruise once a week for 17 years was no father of mine. Mr. Curtis was the closest thing to a dad I really had and he got hit by a train. That wasn’t too surprising. I have shit luck.

“Catch me first, asshole.” I spat on the ground at his feet and leapt off the porch, landing awkwardly on one of my ankles. To hell with it. Escape first. Worry later.

I patted around for my keys in the pocket of my black leather jacket. Nothing. Empty. They were on my desk. And the Thunderbird remained parked, gleaming under the streetlight. A promise of safety. There was no way in hell I was going back in the house for my keys. I’d never get out with my dad in a mood like this. My ankle smarted but I had no choice but to hotfoot it. Where? The Curtis’ were on the other side of the slums, it was drunk-thirty for Two-Bit and Johnny was probably in the same sort of situation. That’s the problem with having friends in the same socioeconomic situation as you, they can’t really help out.

Buck’s. My only hope. Maybe Dal wasn’t around. We hadn’t talked in a week, which wouldn’t have been much before but he was my boyfriend or something like that. We’d been taking it slow since we were 15 and by slow I mean real fucking slow. Old lady on her way to church slow. We’d kiss once or twice, cuddle in jail and pretend we didn’t know each other later. But after he broke up with Sylvia we really became a pair. I’d hang around Buck’s and beat his ass at pool, I’d sleep in his bed most nights. That was until I saw him chatting up a greasy girl at the Dingo. Then we had a blow out. But that was Friday, this was Thursday.

Dad stumbled off the porch and I booked it the best I could, Cuban heels slamming the asphalt with rhythm. A stabbing searing pain radiating up my leg like fire. I turned around at the end of the block just to see my old man slip and fall, hitting the ground with a thud and a grunt. Drunks, am I right?

I slowed down a little after that, limping past the stoops and derelict cars towards the edge of town. No one was out. An eerie fog always seemed to come over Tulsa at midnight on a work night. Several lights were still on in places where mother’s nursed their babies or working folk got off their shifts. One or two houses oozed loud jazz and one or two more radiated drunk yelling. I shuffled past those particularly quickly.

By the time I got to Buck’s my ankle could hardly hold my weight. I limped up the stairs and threw myself through the door. It was empty. It was the middle night on a work day with nothing to celebrate. The hardwood as waxed, the chairs were up, Buck stood at the bar with a half-empty glass of beer. He looked up, half-drunk honey colored eyes scanning me. Buck was the kinda guy I trusted, a good old boy who had no agenda and liked drinking and horses. And he liked Hank Williams. The mark of a pure soul.

“Hey, if it isn’t my favorite redneck. Lasso any bad guys lately?” I mumbled, leaning against the wall. It had been a running joke that Buck was Oklahoma’s No. 1 crime-fighting cowboy since he got drunk and tracked a car jacket down on horseback. He was larger than life.

“Nah, nah. None of that. Whatcha doin’ out after curfew? If you’re going up for a late night hook up, your loverboy went to sleep an hour ago.” He scratched the golden beard forming in his chin and pending over to peel the label off a bootle of Ancient Age.

“Bed? Before one? He’s gotta be sick or something.” I reached down to rub my ankle, secretly hoping he was. The only time Dal wasn’t mean was when he was sick. Then he was just quiet. It was an eerie change but at least he wouldn’t have the energy to yell at me if he was sick.

“Nah. He’s just depressed,” The cowboy slid the empty bottle in the trash and continued to pick at the label. “Sylvia came back and promptly cheated on him with Tim.”

A smile curled across my lips at the thought of that dirty broad teaching him a lesson. Karma was a bitch. Not quite as much of a bitch as Sylvia. That girl was trouble. She’d been my enemy since second grade when I pulled her pigtail and she kicked me in the crotch. We’d gotten off on the wrong foot and never tried to patch things over. After the incident with Johnny I had nothing but contempt for her. She got her kicks taking advantage of boys and beating me in drag races. Despite her many negotiable attributes, she was never predictable and and always exciting. That’s why she earned the nickname Jenny Dean. A greaser girl of the highest degree.

I limped to the bottom of the stairs and did the most obnoxious thing I could thing to do.

“HEY STELLA!”

Silence.

“HEY STEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEELLA!”

I heard footsteps and then a door slam. Dal loved that movie but hated that scene. God knows why. Said it reminded him of his childhood.

“There are people trying tah sleep, yah shithead.” He complained in his thick Bronx accent, face popping from behind the wall, sky blue eyes staring at me in the low-light. God he was gorgeous. Dal was the strangest looking human being on earth but in a good way. He looked like a cat. And he had platinum hair that stuck out every which way. People were split 50/50 on if he was the hot or hideous.

“What? People like you? You probably weren’t sleeping anyway. Too busy stewing about your girl. Or were you stewing about me, baby? Your man?” I grinned up at him as big as I could grin.

“Nah, nah.” He took a steep closer down me, taking his damn time. “Just thinking about you, baby. Always you.”

“Get down here and carry me up the damn stairs and maybe I’ll forgive you, maybe.” I took a step closer, landing awkwardly on my ankle and crumpling to the ground, catching myself on the stair case. My eyes stung but I clung to my dignity, smacking my hand against the stairs angrily. It throbbed. It stabbed. Dal rushed to me, bare feet pitter-pattering against the pine.

For all his cold toughness Dal couldn’t help giving a shit about everyone. He was there every time Johnny got jumped, he was always dragging Two-Bit out of ditches when he was drunk. One time I saw him nursing one of Ponyboy’s bloody noses, ringed finger holding a rag under his nose just as throughly as Darry. And me, if someone so much as looked at me funny he’d pound them. There was something so nice about Dal caring since he made a life off not caring about anything, it was like it really meant something.

“You ain’t looking so hot, baby.” He mumbled as sweet as I ever heard him, pulling my arm around his shoulder and his arm around my waist. My head lulled and dark spots appeared in my eyesight like mold.

“It’s a-it’s a temporary condition,” I mumbled, quoting some Paul Newman movie I’d seen with Ponyboy and Sodapop. I set my head against his shoulder. God, how I miss that shoulder. “ain’t slept in two days. ‘N I think I broke my ankle trying to get away from my old man. Just need some sleep is all. Sure you and Buck’d love to play nurse.”

Buck chortled and put away the bottle of booze. He’d been quiet during our little reunion. He kept out of Dal’s business but was always there when you needed him. And he liked me.

“Nah. I’ll dress it and let you sleep but don’t expect me to bring you breakfast in bed. If you’re looking for a housewife go hang around Soda.” He started up the stairs and I hobbled with him, leaning heavily on him.

“I ain’t trying to make no one my wife, neither are you Dal. Neither is Sylvia or Tim or Buck.” I whispered, barely clinging to consciousness. Walking there had been the worst idea of my life, the pain was so bad I thought I was going to pass out.

Dal sighed and drug me up the stairs and down the hall without much issue, depositing me on the bed. I flopped back onto the dirty quilt, feeling the familiar threadbare blankets under my tired body. The smell of smoke and Dal’s sweat. Comforting. I would have fallen asleep if it hadn’t been for Dal loudly rummaging through the cabinet in the adjoining bathroom.

Next thing I knew he pulled off my shoes and then my one-size-too-small jeans.

“I’m not in the mood you randy bastard.” I slurred, forcing my eyes open.

“Shattup.” He light a Kool and went to wrapping my severely swollen ankle with an ace bandage, making sure to get the right angle with doctor’s precision. Dal had been hurt everywhere so he knew about every injury a person could have. He even caught tuberculosis hiding out in a warehouse in New York once.

“No gymnastics or leaping out of a moving car or any of that shit you do, you dig?” He looked at me and I nodded with a bleary smile, lifting one eyebrow.

He crawled into bed next to me, pushing his muscular frame against my side and puffing away on his cigarette in the dim lamp light. The rooms at Buck’s always seemed to be dark no matter what time it was. I figured it was the nicotine stain on the windows and the ugly drapes. Dally’s room wasn’t like the others. I can see it now, yellowed walls and posters of the Alamo and Jimmy Dean. Books that Dally didn’t read on the dresser, ceiling fan clicking away. And the bed. A full sized bed so there was barely room for two muscular boys. I think Dal liked having to huddle but he never said it.

I must have blacked out for a couple seconds because I felt him tuck the blankets around my neck and his fingers run through my greasy hair. Was this what he did when I was asleep?

“I love ya, you little shit.” He murmured quietly.

A smile spread across my sore bruised face.

“Love you too, Dal.”