#actually this was drawn last year but i am only posting now :P

[alligaytorswamp]

commission for @quincytatas 🔪

commission info

[c-ptsdrecovery]

I've been meaning to make this post for months, but I'm lazy :P

This year, I got diagnosed with bipolar 2, and going on mood stabilizers has been LIFE-CHANGING. (In the way they always told me going on antidepressants would be, only it wasn't.) I have discovered that I had a lot of (common) misconceptions about what bipolar disorder was like, which was why I struggled for at least 15 years with it and didn't get diagnosed until now. So I wanted to share a little bit about what I've learned about what bipolar disorder is REALLY like, in the hopes that other people in the same boat as me might recognize their own symptoms.

Disclaimers: I am not a mental health professional or an expert in bipolar disorder, and this is drawn from my personal experiences, which may be different from what another person with bipolar experiences.

--There are different levels of depression and of mania. Low mania, for instance, is called hypomania. While people with Bipolar 1 experience a range of emotions from mania to depression, people with Bipolar 2 experience mostly depression with occasional hypomania.

--People have a very extreme and stereotyped idea of what mania looks like, so it can be harder to recognize hypomania in particular. Things that mania/hypomania can look like:

anxiety

restlessness

insomnia

constant fidgeting

huge excitement or joy

intense creativity

intense sensory experience (colors are brighter, handsoap smells AMAZING, etc)

rage

less inhibited behavior

more spending

more risky behavior

feeling like you're finally yourself for the first time in years

--You will notice in that list that manic doesn't just mean happy. Mania is a high-energy state. That can mean high-energy happiness, high-energy anger, high-energy anxiety, etc. Depression is the low-energy side of the equation.

--You don't have to be JUST manic or JUST depressed. It's very common to have "mixed episodes" where you are both at one time. I was diagnosed years ago with "anxiety and depression"--and it turns out that that was probably actually a bipolar mixed state. A lot of people with classic depression talk about having no energy, having trouble getting out of bed, etc, but I always had the kind of depression where I felt despairing but also high-energy. I was restless and anxious--and sometimes had bursts of happiness and enjoyment in the middle and then went back to being depressed again.

--Bipolar can feel like mood swings. Your moods are intense and they can change quickly. I have had a psychiatrist tell me that you know it's bipolar when your mood changes for no reason. This may be true for some people, but for me, I could almost always attribute my mood change to SOMETHING. "I feel bad because of that thing somebody said to me" or "I feel bad because I'm lonely" or "I feel anxious because my stomach is upset". So that wasn't a helpful indicator for me, but the presence of the mood swings was. Some people also try to say that you have to be in a manic or depressive state for a certain number of days in order to qualify as bipolar--but if you're having mixed episodes like I was, all bets are off as to how long a mood is going to last.

--It's very common for people with bipolar disorder to have sleep problems: sleeping too much, sleeping too little, or both. I go right to sleep at bedtime, but then I wake up in the middle of the night, lie awake for an hour, and then go back to sleep. I have done this regularly for literally 15 years.

--A really good sign of having bipolar disorder is if trying a new antidepressant makes you manic/hypomanic. This doesn't always happen to people with bipolar disorder trying an antidepressant, but it certainly can.

My experience with antidepressants is that sometimes they seemed to work a bit for awhile, but in the long run, they really didn't work. One antidepressant that I tried made me FURIOUSLY ANGRY, so much so that it scared me and I had to get off the med after a week (the rage was a hypomanic state). One antidepressant that I tried made me so unbearably anxious that I took it ONCE and never again (that anxiety was also a hypomanic state). I took an antidepressant once that worked PERFECTLY for two months, and then suddenly stopped, and never worked again (happy hypomania, mood-swinging back to depressed again). What finally tipped us off that my problem was bipolar disorder was when I tried a new antidepressant and it made me feel AMAZING and then it wore off and I got super-depressed again... and then we raised the dose and I felt AMAZING and then it wore off, and... Meanwhile, I was happier than I had ever been before, I started a new hobby of collecting bonkers earrings, I started dressing in eye-burning rainbow colors, I was far more confident than I had ever been, I spent more (not way too much, but more) than usual... That is the kind of hypomanic/manic state that most people recognize as such, which is how I finally got diagnosed.

I will add on tomorrow or so with some stories about episodes that I recognize in retrospect were from my bipolar disorder, but I don't want to make this post longer than it already is! I will just add: If any of this sounds like you, I strongly encourage you to talk to a doctor about trying mood stabilizers. Maybe they won't do anything for you--but then at least you'll KNOW. I have a sneaking suspicion that just like C-PTSD is wildly underdiagnosed, bipolar disorder probably is, too.

[artistic-calathea]

DOODLE DUMP BECAUSE I HAVE NOT ACTUALLY DRAWN ANY ACTUAL ART PIECES IN A WHILE :D

These ⬇️ were over the span of about a week, and I finished it just a day or 2 ago !!

I drew these ⬇️ last month in aprilll?? I think?

I kinda just worked on it whenever I didn't have any other inspiration which is why there isn't too much

I also want to rant about these and the process n stuff a little bit so I am going to :)

Making the first one I started redrawing old stuff from a sketchbook (the person in the pretty dress, person in the sweater), and then I got distracted watching qsmp vods and drew Dapper and Juanaflipa!!

It was the first time I drew them not as eggs (so they might look totally different next time I draw them sorryyy) and it was super fun !!!! Im working on drawing all the qsmp eggs but it's not gonna be done for a bit since I am also not caught up on whats going on

the last stream I saw was a few days after the Brazilian members crashed and now I hear of France?? Idk but I'll prob try to catch up this week and finish the drawing soon :)

Also all the nature !!!! Literally my favorite thing to draw ever. I could just sit by a plant and draw it and never get bored

Sadly there are not many plants near my house so I might just have to go into the woods and look for cool plants to draw this summer heheheee oh nooo if it's the only way I guess... I just have no other option than going into the awesome woods with the nature and no other people and loud music in my headphones 😔 /sar Im so excited ajauvsv

THAT WASNT EVEN ABOUT THE PROJECT SORRY I always get distracted and ramble when talking about art (I am not going to stop doing this though its so fun!!)

Nowww about the project art,

Short version, these little sillies are being included because when I actually start the project in a few years I wanna look back on this and see how my art improved and how the story changed!

LONG VERSION...

"the project" as I've been calling it, is a goal of mine in life to create something emotional and meaningful that matters to people and can maybe help someone feel less alone :)

It is not that right now though ! At the moment it's just an idea since I don't really have the resources or skills to make it the way I would want to, but these sketches and stuff help me keep track of the idea while I get ready to make the thing

I have some papers with project stuff that I might post if anyone seems really interested in the project as it is right now (they are messy and hard to understand so I don't currently plan on uploading them anywhere)but if not I will likely just keep quietly working on it :3 and I'm definitely gonna change up a few things !! Some things on that page may not even make it into the actual project 👁️👁️

That's all I have until I draw more ! :P (also if you read all that you r automatically very cool and nice and you get 🪲 🐛🐜🐞 bugs :) /pos bug s good)

BYEEE :D

[primocatx]

This is a personal drawing, and one that reflects heavily on my mental state months back, and man those months SUCKED. Normally I don't like to share personal experiences, mostly negative ones, but this one holds significance for me that I just have to share it.

During those tough, depressing, and cold months, I had never felt more empty than ever. The internet had no longer satisfied this feeling of emptiness. Video games were no longer an escape to reality. The only thing I had going were me, my thoughts, and feelings. It didn't help that it was winter season either. A season in which I find to be harsh on my mental health.

So much had happened in that year. I had lost friends, lost motivation to work, and I lost my dear grandmother. Everything was hitting me all at once. I had to distract myself as much as I could, but eventually it was going to catch up and bite me, hard. I had a significant other of 2 years, and during that summer when everything had gone downhill, I was losing feelings. I was already going to tell them about it, but I was so mentally drained that I couldn't. I felt bad. I kept asking them that I wanted to be alone, alone with my own thoughts. I didn't like that I kept them waiting, but I wanted to split up with them in a way where I was actually mentally in the place to. Otherwise, the feelings of guilt, regret, sadness, and anger kept eating me up. In general, those months felt like the world was against me. That life just hated me, and kept beating me down until I felt nothing.

During the month of Winter break, I was at my lowest. I was empty. Christmas felt like nothing to me. And I hated it. I hated that I felt nothing. I wanted to feel something so badly, but my heart and mind were too exhausted. Isolation had not helped with this feeling of emptiness, or at least that was what I thought during that time. Isolation had lead me to self discovery and self reflection. It took time for me to learn things about myself, and the ways I could make myself feel better. While I was in this journey of being with myself, I had drawn and characterized my thoughts and feelings. That girl on the right is that character. Even though she looks unsettling, she is what gave me comfort and company during that time. I can't explain why, but it just did.

I could write more about this character, but I would rather write about her some other time. I'm sorry for this long post, but man did I feel like sharing my experience months back. It is such a stark contrast to how I was back then to now. I feel better now. Matter fact, I feel better than ever. My summers always end up horrible but this years summer, I have never felt more alive and free. I am actually happy. I go outside more to walk and be with friends and family. I went to go experience the things I have been missing out on. I did things that I have never once done in my life.

I hope anyone who stumbles across this knows that even though you are going through dark times, the times of light will come eventually. Very cheesy and cliché I know, but it doesn't mean it's not true. Everyone will have their darkest nights, but night doesn't last forever.

Much love, P

[meruz]

once again i am answering asks in a big compilation post. included is... gotham, patrick stump, tips about drawing backgrounds, tips about drawing in general, links to my faq, and infinity train

like.... the tv series? No... I’ve drawn dc comics fanart before, though. But it’s been years since I’ve been really into it. I like jumped ship like 10 years ago when the New 52 happened LOL.

AFJHDSLKGH I’m sorry I (probably) won’t do it again??

Actually full disclosure I have a truly cringe amount of p stump drawings/photo studies in my sketchbook right now LOL. He’s just fun to draw... hats, glasses, guitar, a good shape... but I don’t think I’ll rly post those until I can hide them in another big sketchbook pdf.. probably Jan 2022. Stay tuned........ (ominous) 

(ominous preview)

These are all sort of related to backgrounds/painting so I grouped them together even though they’re pretty much entirely separate questions.... ANYWAYS

a) How is it working as a BG artist? Is it hard? What show are you drawing for?

I think you’re the first person to ever ask me about my job! Being a background artist is great. It’s definitely labor intensive but I think that could describe pretty much any art job (If something were rote or easy to automate, you wouldn’t hire an artist to do it) and I hesitate to say whether its harder or easier than any other role in the animation pipeline. Plus, so much of what truly makes a job difficult varies from one production to the next, schedule, working environment, co-workers etc. But I will say that I think while BGs are generally a lot of work on the upfront, I think they’re subject to less scrutiny/revisions than something like character/props/effects design and you don’t have to pitch them to a room like boards. So I guess it’s good if you don’t like to talk to people? LOL

A lot of my previous projects + the show I’ve worked on the longest aren’t public yet so I can’t talk about em (but I assure you if/when the news does break I won’t shut up about it). But I’m currently working on Archer Season 12 LOL. I’m like 90% sure I’m allowed to say that.

b) ~~~THANK YOU!! ~~~

c) What exactly do you like to draw most [in a background]?

@kaitomiury​ Lots of stuff! I really like to draw clutter! Because it’s a great opportunity for environmental storytelling and also you can be kind of messy with it because the sheer mass will supersede any details LOL. 

I like to draw clouds... I like to draw grass but not trees lol,,, I like to draw anything that sells perspective really easily like tiled floors and ceilings, shelves, lamp posts on a street etc.

d) Do you have any tips on how to paint (observational)?

god there’s so much to say. painting is really a whole ass discipline like someone can paint their whole life and still discover new things about it. I guess if you’re really just starting out my best advice is that habit is more important than product. especially with traditional plein air painting, I find that the procedure of going outside and setting up your paints is almost harder than the actual painting. There’s a lot of artists who say “I want to do plein air sometime!!” and then never actually get around to doing it. A lot of people just end up working from google streetview or photos on their computer.

But going outside to paint is a really good challenge because it forces you to make and commit to lighting and composition decisions really quickly. And to work through your mistakes instead of against them via undo button.

My last tip is to check out James Gurney’s youtube channel because hes probably the best and most consistent resource on observational painting out there rn. There’s lots other artists doing the same thing (off the top of my head I know a lot of the Warrior Painters group has people regularly posting plein air stuff and lightbox expo had a Jesse Schmidt lecture abt it last year) but Gurney’s probably the most prolific poster and one of the best at explaining the more technical stuff - his books are great too.

e) Do you have tips for drawing cleanly on heavypaint?

@marigoldfool​ UMM LOL I LIKE ONLY USE THE FILL TOOL so maybe use the fill tool? Fill and rectangle are good for edge control as opposed to the rest of the heavy paint tools which can get sort of muddles. And also I use a stylus so maybe if you’re using your finger, find a stylus that works with your device instead. That’s all I’ve got, frankly I don’t think my drawings are particularly clean lol.

f) Tips on improving backgrounds/scenes making them more dynamic practicing etc?

Ive given some tips about backgrounds/scenes before so I’m not gonna re-tread those but here’s another thing that might be helpful...

I think a good way to approach backgrounds is to think of the specific story or even mood you want to convey with the background first. Thinking “I just need to put something behind this character” is going to lead you to drawing like... a green screen tourist photo backdrop. But if you think “I need this bg to make the characters feel small” or “I need this bg to make the world feel colorful” then it gives you requirements and cues to work off of.

If I know a character needs to feel overwhelmed and small, then I know I need to create environment elements that will cage them in and corner them. If a character needs to feel triumphant/on top of the world then I know I need to let the environment open up around them. etc. If I know my focal point/ where I want to draw attention, I can build the background around that.

Also, backgrounds like figure compositions will have focal points of their own and you can draw attention to it/ the relationship the characters have with the bg element via scale or directionality or color, any number of cues. I think of it almost as a second/third character in a scene.

Not every composition is gonna have something so obvious like this but it helps me to think about these because then the characters feel connected and integrated with the environment.

Some more general art questions

a) Do you have any process/tips to start drawing character/bodies/heads?

I tried to kind of draw something to answer this but honestly this is difficult for me to answer because I don’t think I’m that great at drawing characters LOL. Ok, I think I have two tips.

1) flip your canvas often. A lot about what makes human bodies look correct and believable is symmetry and balance. Even if someone has asymmetrical features, the body will often pull and push in a way to counterbalance it. we often have inherent biases to one side or another like dominant hands dominant eyes etc. you know how right-handed artists will often favor drawing characters facing 45 degrees facing (the artist’s) left? that’s part of it. so viewing your drawing flipped even just to evaluate it helps compensate for that bias and makes you more aware of balance.

2) draw the whole figure often. I feel like a lot of beginner artists (myself included for a long time) defer to just drawing headshots or busts because it’s easier, you dont have to think about posing limbs etc. But drawing a full body allows you to better gauge proportion, perspective, body language, everything that makes a character look believable and grounded.

Like if you (me) have that issue where you draw the head too big and then have to resize it to fit the proportions of the rest of the body, it’s probably because you (I) drew the head first and are treating the body as an afterthought/attachment. Sketching out the whole figure first or even just quick drawing guides for it will help you think of it more holistically. I learned this figure drawing in charcoal at art school LOL.

oh. third mini tip - try to draw people from life often! its the best study. if you can get into a figure drawing/nude drawing class EVEN BETTER and if you have a local college/art space/museum that hosts those for free TREASURE IT AND TAKE ADVANTAGE OF IT, that’s a huge boon that a lot of artists (me again) wish they had. though if youre not so lucky and youre sitting in a park trying to creeper draw people and they keep moving.. don’t let that stop you! that’s good practice because it’s forcing you to work fast to get the important stuff down LOL. its a challenge!

b) I’ve been pretty out of energy and have had no inspiration to draw but I have the desire to. Any advice?

Dude, take a walk or something.... Or a nap? Low energy is going to effect everything else so you gotta hit that problem at its source.

If you’re looking for inspiration though, I’d recommend stuff like watching a movie, reading a book, playing video games etc. Fill up your idea bank with content and then give yourself time/space to gestate it into new concepts. Sometimes looking at other art works but sometimes it can work against you because it’s too close. 

Also something that helps me is remembering that art doesn’t always have to be groundbreaking... like it’s okay to make something shitty and stupid that you don’t post online and only show to your friend. That’s all part of the process imo. If you want to hit a home run you gotta warm up first, right? Sports.

I should probably compile everytime i give tips on stuff like this but that’s getting dangerously close to being a social media artist who makes stupid boiled down art tutorials for clout which is the last thing i want to be... the thing I want to stress is that art is a whole visual language and there are widely agreed upon rules and customs but they exist in large part to be broken. Like there's an infinite number of ways to reach an infinite number of solutions and that’s actually what makes it really cool and personal for both the artist and the viewer. So when you make work you like or you find someone else’s work you like, take a step back and ask yourself what about it speaks for you, what about it works for you, what makes it effective, how to recreate that effect and how to break that effect completely, etc. And have a good time with it or else what’s the point.

for the first 2, I direct you to my FAQ

For the last one, I don’t actually believe I’ve ever addressed artwork as insp for stories/rp but I’ll say here and now yeah go ahead! As long as you’re not making profit or taking credit for my work then I’m normally ok with it. Especially anything thats private and purely recreational, that’s generally 100% green light go. I only ask that if you post it anywhere public that you please credit me.

(and I reserve the right to ask you to take it down if I see it and don’t approve of it’s use but I think that case is pretty rare.)

a) @lemuelzero101 Thank you!!! I haven’t played Life is Strange but actually  that series’ vis dev artist Edouard Caplain is one of my bigger art inspirations lately so that’s a really high compliment lol. And yeah I hope we get 5-8 too...!

b) Thank you for sticking around! I’ve been thinking about Digimon and Infinity Train in tandem lately, actually. They’re a little similar? Enter a dangerous alternate world and have wacky adventures with monsters/inanimate objects that have weird powers... there’s like weird engineers and mechanisms behind the scenes... also frontier literally starts with them getting on a train. Anyways if anyone else followed me for digimon... maybe you’d like Infinity Train? LOL

c) @king-wens-king I’M GLAD MY ART JUST HAS PINOY VIBES LOL I hope you are having a good day too :^)

a, b, c, d) yessss my Watch Infinity Train agenda is working....

e) aw thank you!! i think you should watch infinity train :)

[gracelesslady23]

absolutely Love your prongsfoot fics!,!!I am curious about ur vampire and injustice wips. loved that azkaban snippet, it was deliciously angsty!!!

Thanks so much for the compliment and the ask! (super glad you liked the angsty Azkaban snippet too – I’m so excited to one day post that fic 😊)

The Vampire WIP was my original plan for my fic for James Potter fest I realised was way too ambitious for the timeline lol. (I ended up submitting this fic for the fest 😊).

The WIP fic takes the concept of Vampire Hunter James and Vampire Sirius much further… Sirius and James both come from a long line of Vampires and Vampire Hunters, respectively. They meet accidently when they are very young and quickly become fast friends until Fleamont discovers just who his son has become friends with and their friendship splits apart.

Many years later James (who is a fully fledged hunter in his own right) gets seriously injured in a raid against Vampire Bellatrix gone wrong and is admitted to hospital. Sirius who has split from his family at that point works in the hospital and uncovers Bellatrix’s plan to finish James off. Remembering his old friend fondly, despite the fact that James now openly hates all vampires including Sirius, Sirius pretty much abducts James to keep him safe… While hiding out at Sirius’s place while James recovers and completely despite themselves they can’t help but be drawn to each other’s personality (as well as being extremely physically attracted to each other lol). Basically my attempt at a enemies to lovers with a vampire spin.

Here's a snippet:

~~~

Sirius rubbed his palms nervously over his jeans. If were capable of it, he was sure his palms would be sweating profusely.

“So…” Remus said after far too long of a pause, “you’ve kidnapped a vampire hunter.”

Sirius cringed.

“I didn’t kidnap him.”

Remus tore his eyes away from the sleeping body on the bed to regard Sirius with deeply unimpressed look.

“You hypnotised to sleep, carted him from the hospital where he was receiving medical treatment, brought him to your apartment and now he’s asleep in your bed. I’m keen to hear what you would call it?”

“Saving him?” Sirius offered, the tipping up of his last syllable sounding completely unconvincing even to his own ears. “He killed Rodolphus and almost Bellatrix. It was only a matter of time before Bellatrix found him again and finished him off. Come on Remus, what was I supposed to do? At least here, I can protect him.”

Remus looked down at the snoring lump that was James Potter.

“Just leave him.”

“Remus, you must see reason – ”

“No, you need to see reason. I suspect the only reason he is not currently trying to kill you is because he is asleep.”

~~~

I don’t know if other writers do this, but Injustice is an idea that I love but have put on hold until I become a much better writer and can actually do it some justice (pun intended :P). So, I haven’t really got a snippet for it, but I have got a very large planning document!

Its an AU where Sirius never went to Hogwarts so he and James never met. James is magical lawyer (he mostly lives off his inheritance and takes on cases for the downtrodden pro bono). Anyway Regulus Black turns up at his office and he’s about to turn him away immediately – because why would the Black’s of all people need his services, the Blacks were usually the people James was defending against, not working for!

However, he is intrigued by Regulus’s story… a couple of years before Sirius caused a huge scandal in the wizarding world by confessing to losing his mind and killing twelve muggles as well as his own mother. He was sent to Azkaban never to be released, but Regulus maintains that it wasn’t Sirius that killed them and instead he was taking the fall for their unwell (now deceased) father. James does some of his own research and becomes fascinated not just by the murder itself (and upon inspection how neither Sirius’s confession nor Regulus’s version of events entirely match up with the evidence), but also by Sirius himself. Ultimately James falls for Sirius through character witnesses, stories of his accomplishments and pictures, etc. before they even actually meet, at the same time as trying to uncover the truth of who is actually responsible for the crime Sirius was imprisoned for.

[tomatoscribbles]

Oh, I am very interested in your abduction AU, and I only just saw your post with the scene of Crow and Yusei running after Jack. I want to know what Jack's feelings are when the worthless Goodwin abducts him, and how hurt and horrified Crow and Yusei would be seeing their brother taken from them. I am a loser for found families, and am very much interested and relieved seeing people write these three as brothers. I love the boys, and look forward to more of your abduction AU!

first of all thank you!!! i keep getting tags like this, people thanking me for making brotherly content rather than shipping, and honestly im living for it. this community is handed found family on a plate and so many people IGNORE IT, smh.  we (cause ive pulled multiple people into this who are consistently helping me out lol) are still working thru everything, and i have a much more fleshed out version of this in my head, but i would like to do more comics and such with this au! im glad you like it so far!

secondly, “worthless Goodwin” made me WHEEZE. ill get into it more later, but i actually appreciate him a lot more as a character since working on this! his complicated relationship with Jack and how it changes over the years is the cornerstone of all of this. thirdly, i already had this drawn up, so you can have it here ;P

the way ive got it, Goodwin had strong suspicions that Yusei could likely be a Signer, and so when he found that Jack was one, he made a point of Yusei knowing what happened to him, so like in canon, he’d make his way into Domino emotionally charged one day. so he and Crow both get to see Jack being taken away, but thats ALL they get to see

Goodwin explains some of the Signer stuff to Jack when he finds him, cause he’d much prefer to have him come willingly, and Jack almost does honestly. but since he hasnt grown apart from the others or had his falling out with Yusei at this point (hes around 10, even), hes much more hesitant to leave them behind.

he ALMOST goes with him voluntarily - until Yusei and Crow finally find them again, and Jack cant go through with leaving them behind, despite everything. but when Goodwin grabs him by the arm when he tries to back away, he realizes he never had a choice in the first place.

so hes horrified honestly. even though he has a lot of reasons for WANTING to go (Satellite sucks, promise of a better life, Satellite and the world being in danger if he doesnt follow his destiny, his brothers being in danger if he stays cause he’ll be hunted down, etc.), being alone and away from his brothers is the LAST thing he wants. and so are Yusei and Crow, not understanding anything that’s happened or WHY Jack is being hauled off by a rich man from the city.

the only thing they know is that he was taken away, and he clearly didnt WANT to be - and now hes farther away from them than he has been his entire life. they’ll probably never see him again.

they have to drag themselves home and sob to Martha about what happened, but honestly it doesnt set in for a few days that Jack just. isnt coming back. they resolve to get out of Satellite and get him back one day, but that dream doesnt come to fruition for 9 whole years, nearly 10. 

so then our show starts, with the half the stage set differently ;P

[shewhospeakswiththunder]

Perhaps you’re feeling bored at home or, if considered an “essential” worker like me, you need a little fun and stress relief. Here is my masterpost of fic recs from my two years of reading so far. Maybe you’ll find something new, or reconnect with an old favorite. Either way--

Enjoy! 😷💕

Reylo Fics that Deserve All the Love

Near Kinsman by englishable

Englishable is just one of the best writers I’ve encountered in fandom. This historical western mail order bride AU is top notch quality.

The Masochism of Self-Defence by greyorchids

The Reylo dynamic in this Boston PD AU is steamy, but also heartfelt. 

So Much Thin Glass by walkingsaladshooter

Never knew I loved modern day Gothic AUs until I ran across this one.

Heaven Forbid by DarkKnightDarkSide

I was stunned by the author’s creativity in this Priestlo fic. So smutty. So... inventive 😉🔥

Sonder by deathbyhumidity

Two strangers passing each other by on the train. Soft, dreamlike, somber, poignant. Modern AU.

And Still I Would Remember by Inmyownidiom

A Victorian era AU of two souls that parted and come crashing back together.

So, You've Decided to Glamour a Human Girl. by selunchen

Faeries AU! Ben, a fae, and Rey, a human. Shenanigans ensue.

Live Long, and Prosper by SaintHeretical

For the Reylo Trekkies. Hell, even if you don't do Star Trek, read this. PHENOMENAL.

Mr. Solo & Miss Wellfound by LinearA

“Regency/Victorian AU, Ben sees Rey's stockinged ankle by accident.”

Diyari by Nervoustouch

Modern archeologists AU. Snarky banter with dashes of Indiana Jones, The Mummy, and Sahara vibes.

Drawn to the light of your burning sorrows by Kyriadamorte

The Mothlo AU you didn’t know you needed. Both gritty and soft.

Crown Glass by RebelRebel

Fantasy AU, with lots of beautiful imagery and engaging character dynamics.

Kohelet 3:16 (Call Me A Cab) by LinearA

NYC Jewish Leia and Ben. Skillfully layered plot, nuanced characterization. Smut is HOT.

By the Shores of Varykino Lake by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)

Unhealthy dynamics, definitely read the tags. “There’s a lot of fucked-up-ness”, in the author’s own words. But it’s good writing. Fair warning.

Let Me Put My Darkness In You by ArdeaJestin

Canonverse. Hux is an insufferable, pompous ass and Kylo Ren writes terrible, melodramatic poetry.

Wintertide by Zabeta

Whimsical and primitive in turn, this lives up to the style of a true fairytale AU.

The Forty Thieves by PoetHrotsvitha

Peaky Blinders/Gangsters AU. Rey starts as Ben’s bartender and ends up as so much more.

I Said to My Soul, Be Still by LinearA

Dark!Rey takes her man. 🥵🔥💕

Hux's Rousing Pep Talks by Riels_shorts

This fic is hysterical. It’s not Reylo, and I don’t care. My list, my rules.

It's All I Can Do To Leave You Alone by TazWren

Office AU. Silly, spunky, with a bashful Ben. 

Sip the Honey Sweet by dietplainlite

Anne of Green Gables-esque/Edwardian era AU, the title really says it all.

The Pull to the Light by HarpiaHarpyja

Entrancingly macabre. This modern/fantasy/monsters AU catches your attention from the get-go, and never lets you off the hook.

lay then the axe to the root by sciosophia

All the Bronte goodness, plus smut.

The Golden Age by TourmalineGreen

Golden Age of Hollywood AU in which Ben is a jaded actor in serious need of an image fix, in the form of fresh-faced actress Rey.

Never Be Your Curse by Kate_Reid 

Kylo Ren is a go-go dancer in this AU. That was enough to get my attention 😘

Gallows God by Killtheselights

Bursting with deliciously grim imagery, an intelligent take on Norse mythology.

Thunderstorms, Clouds, Snow, and a Slight Drizzle by aNerdObsessed

Who doesn’t love an ugly sweater Christmas party? Ben Solo, that’s who. All the nostalgic wintertime feels in this modern AU.

Though My Soul Has Set in Darkness by englishable

It’s not long, but it’s good. A lyrical dive into the mindspace of child Ben Solo. A true gem. Also not technically Reylo. Still don’t care.

I Dare You by tinylittlebrain

Daredevil Kylo has pissed off ER doc Rey Kenobi for the last time. Spicy!

stuck in colder weather by redbelles

Professor Ren stops grad student Rey from biking home in a snow storm. And takes her to his home. You can guess where this goes 😉

Between Sky and Sea by nessalk

Serious Indiana Jones vibes with a Caribbean flair. Painstakingly researched, and moments of true beauty and joy.

But Before Tomorrow by Kate_Reid

Such good writing. Canonverse.

The Sword of Prince Hector by englishable

Exploration of what redemption might feel like for Ben, canonverse. 

if compassion be the breath of life, breathe on me by Victoryindeath2

All the angst and unknowns that we were left with in the wake of TLJ are soothed in this canonverse piece.

build a ladder to the stars by redbelles

An exploration of events post-Crait. Fantastic, beautifully written.

nor are we forgiven (which brings us back) by TolkienGirl

Both Kylo and Rey get to see what life would have been like if they both got exactly what they thought they wanted after TLJ. Fascinating read. 

Forsworn by Erulisse17

This Mando/ST crossover has everything you could want--action, witty banter, space romance! So much fun!

Reylo Favorites & Classics

One Shots

59 Minutes by delia-pavorum (literaryminded)

For Science by KyloTrashForever, ohwise1ne

He Made It Through the Wilderness (somehow he made it through) by LovesBitca8

light carries on endlessly by lachesisgrimm (olga_theodora)

Grey by ocjones

The Idiot's Guide to Flirting by Violetwilson

High School/College AU

I Caught Fire by KyloTrashForever

Mountain Springs High School by animal

Epithumia by pontmercy44

Soul Searching by OptimisticBeth

Office/Workplace AU

Sensual Storytime by andabatae

The Food of Love by LovesBitca8

Historical/Dystopia AU

Hiraeth by Ferasha

a manner of virtue by neonheartbeat

The lamb's thirst by animal

Wanted by Inmyownidiom

She Who Would be Queen by sasstasticmad

go i know not whither and fetch i know not what by voicedimplosives

ABO

Knot My First Time by KyloTrashForever

Canonverse/Canon-divergent

variations on a theme of you by diasterisms (Reydar)

i will be the wolf by diasterisms

Sky Marked Souls by AnonymousMink

The Death of Kylo Ren by nymja

World In My Eyes by sasstasticmad

i'm always in this twilight (in the shadow of your heart) by diasterisms

Catch Me I’m Falling by violethoure666

Sword of the Jedi by diasterisms

You'll Be the One to Turn by postedbygaslight

Dark Crown by Violetwilson

Harry Potter AU

Nocturnal Studies And Other Peculiar Magic by WaterlilyRose

Otherwise Modern AU

Pretense by Celia_and

Insta-heart by slipgoingunder

Serotonin and Dopamine by pontmercy44

The Elusive Mating Dance of the Porgus Adorabilis by andabatae

Hanging by a Moment by crossingwinter

WAR DOGS by fulcrumstardust

miles from where you are by Mooncactus

Charcoal by luvkurai

Stay by jeeno2

coarse and rough and irritating by frak-all (or_ryn)

Blades Crossed by the-reylo-void (Anysia)

Embers by sciosophia

Mitan, Midi by animal

Janus by englishable

Say My Name by Graendoll

Thank You for The Music by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)

darling, so it goes by akosmia

This is the Sign You've Been Looking For by RebelRebel

Broken Things by midnightbluefox

One-Night Stand by delia-pavorum (literaryminded)

The Rebel Side of Heaven by jeeno2

On The Bumpy Road (To Love) by violethoure666

we could plant a house, we could build a tree by Like_A_Dove

I’d Like My Obituary to Hint at a Sequel by Violetwilson

Only If You Want To by Violetwilson

Not Reylo, Still Awesome

Gingerflower/Gingerrose, Armitage Hux/Rose Tico 

Between Sand and Sea by Brit Hux-Tico (birchwoods01)

If Ever I Would Leave You by Weddersins

Her Yellow Rainboots by Weddersins

Merrical, Cal Kestis/Merrin (Jedi: Fallen Order)

The Stars Alight by FlyingMachine

Heavy Ice by FlyingMachine

Caltrilla, Cal Kestis/Trilla Suduri (Jedi: Fallen Order)

No One Else by xanderwilde

call it what you want by xanderwilde

tear you to pieces by xanderwilde

Dramione, Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy (Harry Potter Universe)

Now Is A Gift by SenLinYu

Sex and Occlumency by Graendoll

Zutara, Katara/Zuko (Avatar: the Last Airbender)

oracle bones by an orphaned account

Fics by Me

Virtue Ethics

Reylo College AU (completed)

Dr. Ben Solo, adjunct philosophy professor and part-time martial arts instructor, discovers a young woman in his Intro to Philosophy course whom he thinks may not actually be enrolled at the University.

Chiasmus

Reylo Role-reversal canonverse AU (WIP)

Scourge of the galaxy, Kira Ren, is tasked by the First Order to eliminate the last of the Jedi. When she captures hotshot podracer Ben Solo to extract Luke Skywalker’s location from him, things do not go according to plan. 

This Dance of Light, This Sacred Blessing

Snapshots of a modern Reylo AU. Smutty, prosey one-shot.

Listen Up, Kid

Canonverse Reylo Post TLJ one-shot

The ghosts of Supreme Leader Kylo Ren's past are back to haunt him with a vengeance. A well-meaning, familial kind of vengeance. Or, A Star Wars Carol.

Ben’s Body

Reylo Modern AU (completed)

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

Growin’ Up

Reylo High School AU (completed)

Ben Solo was supposed to only be ruining his own life with his bad decisions. Rey Niima was just trying to pay attention in class. Both get stuck in detention.

Seven Texts, 2 AM

Reylo Modern AU, smutty one-shot

Ben has good reasons not to have sex with his neighbor, Rey. She has other ideas.

Song of the Forest

Reylo Fantasy/BatB/Fairytale AU (completed)

Once upon a time, a girl with an unknown past appeared on the doorsteps of a lord’s manor, and now the forest at the edge of the lord’s property is calling to her.

A Season of Frost & Warmth

Modern Reylo P&P AU (completed)

When Ben shows up to a Halloween party with no costume, it only confirms Rey’s certainty that he is the world’s biggest jerk. Until it comes to light that maybe... he isn’t. 

Follow Me Home

Modern Werewolf Reylo AU (completed)

Rey gets stone drunk and brings home a big cute husky she found in an alley. The next morning, she finds a naked man built like a fridge sleeping on her living room floor, and no dog in sight.

The Gentleness That Comes

Reylo Modern AU one-shot

Underground boxer!Ben is resigned to his life of violence, until he meets a pretty new bartender one night.

Unlikely, Unbidden, Unbound

Gingerflower canonverse AU (WIP)

General Hux is imprisoned by the Resistance when the First Order falls. He had known his death was coming, it was simply a matter of course. He’s disappointed to learn the Resistance has other plans, and an unwavering policy of giving people second chances.

@thereylowritingden @reylofic @nancylovesreylo @grlie-girl @lilia-ula @greyforceuser @tazwren @mhcalamas

[d-pennants]

Everything we know about Aaravos

This includes stuff from the books, interviews and ComicCon, so spoilers. Updated with a few things from the artbook. I’ll try to keep updating when I come across new info.

Timeline

From Book 1: Moon

Callum’s Spellbook

Historical texts

The Art of the Dragon Prince

And a third page written in Italian was added to the historical texts.

“Last of the Great Ones” is interesting, because Zaird says to Sol Regem his staff was a gift from one of the Great Ones. Sol Regem is alarmed but doesn’t immediately know who Zaird is talking about. So apparently between that conversation and when this text was written all Great Ones except for Aaravos died, and even he ‘fell’.

Also this note about Aaravos not being at full power.

As a ‘fallen’ Startouch elf Aaravos can only access a fraction of his former power.

The spell Zaird used to absorb the sunbirds to create the fireball he used against Sol Regem and the spell that Aaravos casts for Viren to absorb Zym’s power are meant to resemble each other in their swirling vortex. The symbol for Dark Magic also has a swirl in it around a diamond shaped like the one on Aaravos’ chest. This absorption vortex seems to be pretty central to Dark Magic, and it only seems it can be done with the staff Aaravos most likely crafted. 

The Show

Zaird staff is the same staff Viren uses. Aaravos recognized it. Given the historical text Aaravos is the “Great One” who gifted Zaird that staff.

Transcripts of all his lines in this post.

Aaravos is the narrator in the opening.

First appearance in S1 from the first war between humans and elves & dragons 1000 years ago.

Elves don’t seem to ride horses, but big cats, dogs, lizards, etc instead. Yet Aaravos choose to depict himself riding a star primal horse (He could make Viren see any creature he wanted). Considering it turns out that unicorns and Startouch elves are the only two star primal creatures humans know about, is he just being dramatic or does this have a deeper meaning?

Mirror in the Dragon King’s lair.

Cocoon

Dragon Prince Website

Bio;

Mysterious and charismatic, Aaravos is a rare kind of elf few have ever seen. He is secretive yet charming, and even Viren finds himself compelled by Aaravos’ cryptic words and gifts.

Height: 6’6 (6’9 with horns) Birthday: November 14th Age: ???

Birthday Vignette;

Aaravos does not count the passage of time in minutes, nor hours, not even days — he counts candles, one after the other, burning themselves down to the wick and a puddle of hot wax. He would run out of candles if it weren’t so easy to reform them with a wave of his hand, as though the burn had never happened.

He thinks sometimes about the way humans count their years: one day every year marks a precious point in their short life spans. They celebrate. They feast. He thinks that if he cared for the idea, he’d like to remember the taste of a smooth red fruit a human had plucked from a tree for him, once.

It had been so crisp, and so sweet.

AMA, Tumblr, Instagram Live

Who are the First Elves?

AE: First Elves are startouch elves, or possibly a subset of startouch elves...

When did the idea of Aaravos come up? How early in the planning of the saga did you guys come up with him?

AE: Justin and I came up with Aaravos very very early. In the early stages we referred to him as "Mirror Mage." We always knew he would be the secret long-game mystery villain... Aaron

Is the Key of Aaravos actually the key of where he was imprisoned?

AE & JR: We can’t tell you.

JR: We don’t even know. We haven’t even discovered the answer yet.

AE: We know! Actually, that was one of the first things we knew at the very beginning. We’ll get to it.

Did Aaravos create dark magic?

AE: No, it was discovered not created. Did Aaravos turn them onto it or help them discover it? That’s very possible. Whether Aaravos played a role in developing their ability to do dark magic. Exploring the possibilities of dark magic.

How could Avizandum (Thunder) imprison such a powerful creature as Aaravos? Can archdragons do such magic or who helped him? This required some collaboration between archdragons and elves

Were you surprised by all the thirsty reactions to Aaravos? Judging from everyone who worked on the show and their reactions, no we weren't surprised :)

Where is Aaravos walking in epsiode 6? And how and where did he a get a horse?

Aaravos can basically make Viren “see” him however he wants, so he chose to appear on the back of a purple horse. There was actually a line in there at one point that we had to cut for time that clarified a bit more heavily -- Viren grumbles at him, “Must you appear... that way?” as Aaravos is floating in the air, and Aaravos replies, “Ah, I can appear more naturally if you’d like,” and then he flips backwards onto the horse as you see in scene in episode 6. :P

which FFXIV classes would the rest of the cast be?

Aaravos - mysterious benevolent ascian

Interviews

There is no Startouch elf society as they’re not numerous enough.

Hot Brown Morning Potion Ep 5

Hypothetically, if Aaravos knew about his own fandom, how would he feel about them?

AE: He takes a special interest in humans, so he would be very pleased that humans appreciate him.

Wondercon 2019 panel Q&A

“The goal of healing and rebuilding the world is going to be a hard one, and especially a hard one when Aaravos, who may have been one of the mysterious forces who pushed the world into this situation, now seems to be on the cusp of returning or trying to return to the world.”

Inverse Season 4 interview

“Practical usable powerful magic, is drawn from the six Primal Sources, but there’s this idea that there’s this kind of earlier, less differentiated power. A kind of magic that’s deeper and more, (I don’t want to kind of say what all of them are). It’s not that important now. It has more to do with the history of beings and interactions and now I feel like I’m talking crazy, but Aaravos cares about some of this stuff and it’s funny, people have worked on a speech in season 5 where he kind of goes into some of this.”

...

“I think he’s complicated. I mean it’s, I think there’s a part of him that is kind, that is generous, that is giving and I think there’s a part of him that is arrogant and desiring to be, you know, worshipped and revered...

He never lies, I don’t know if he’s never lied about anything, if you understand where he’s coming from, he’s not lying about anything. But you don’t necessarily know where he’s coming from. He never lies, he always tells the truth. You’ve heard us talk about Aaravos before, is it Lucifer or Prometheus, who has a relationship with humanity and the gifts and sharing that he has historically have been, you know, you can interpret it differently.”

...

Q: We know he’s mastered all the primal sources, it that like could all of us do that or just him?

A: He’s very special.

Cartoon Universe Season 3 interview

kn: What’s your favorite Greek myth? AE: There are so many intriguing myths to choose from – I think if I have to choose I would say the Prometheus myth. The titan stole fire and gave it to humans, elevating them – and was punished by the gods for this. I feel like there are parallels to the biblical story of the serpent tempting Eve to eat the apple, and its effect on humanity… and the comparisons are sort of fascinating. I am interested in both the mythic/divine messenger who stole/shared these gifts with humanity, and the story of what humans chose to do once they had these gifts.

Korranews interview

Can I just jump back for a minute to the Star elves, can you talk a little bit about them?

Richmond: We can tell you their name, so they’re Startouch elves, is the type of elf they are and kind of no. [Laughs] They’re super, duper rare, they’re very mystical and we have a lot of plans for them, but that’s kind of all I want to give you. Ehasz: They’re mystical, mysterious - the mystical, mysterious Mr. Aaravos. [Laughs] Richmond: That’s the spinoff. [Laughs] Ehasz: Yeah, they are more - I mean, they’re Star Elves and they’re more associated with the heavens and they’re not immortal, but they have more of a time scale that is more like the stars than other elves, so they’re a little bit removed and big picture, but Star Elves have a, I mean, they’re part of mystery and myth and we’re going to meet one this season. I love the actor who plays him is Erik Todd Dellums, who I worked with on Avatar [the Last Airbender] who has an amazing voice and he’s perfect to embody a character like this and we’re excited about this character. We hope the audience is intrigued and ready for more.

Screenrant Season 2 interview

Going back to Aaravos for one second. We’re assuming there’s a reason why he seems to be telling this story — we see his hands at the beginning of each episode in the opening sequence. AE: Yeah, so he’s a Startouch Elf, and they are closest to the heavens of the elves. They’re kind of the most god-like, in the sense of they span much more time than more Earth-bound or Xadia-bound elves. So yeah, he has this thousand year perspective. This kind of mythic role. So he’s like this mythic character who now, suddenly, is kind of popping up in this contemporary story. JR: And obviously, he’s bad enough that they tried to literally erase him from the books. AE: He’s complicated. JR: He’s interesting enough that they tried to erase him from the books. AE: He’s disliked. That’s not the same as bad.

Hyperable season 2 interview

“The name of a very important person to Aaravos will be in the map of a novel, but it will be a long time before you know what that means,” Ehasz said. “A lot of his motivation comes from that relationship.”

Hyperable Season 3 interview (Possible names on the map are Skall’s Hook, the Ruins of Elarion, and Mount Kalik).

The team also teased The Orphan Queen, a new story they hope to tell in the series, books or even in a feature film, which follows a young human girl who starts from nothing and grows up without parents. She takes a dangerous journey to Xadia and ends up saving the world. She’s also Ezran’s first royal ancestor. Ehasz and Richmond said the idea was born when they were imagining where the Key of Aaravos comes from.

Ehasz and Richmond also dug into the timeline of Xadia, and how certain eras will impact both the books and the series. Five thousand years ago, Xadia was in its “mythical, Biblical first days,” a time long before elves and dragons were allied in which humans suffered and struggled. The “rise of Elarion” came around 2,000 years before the events of the series, and saw humans find their way to magic. Around 1200 years ago finds the arch dragon of sun, Sol Regem, as king of the dragons during this era, when dark magic became problematic and humans poached magical creatures for their parts. Shortly after came the division of Xadia. The next big turning point for the world was 300 years before the series, a time Ehasz and Richmond dub “the era of Avizandum.” Two stories they want to tell take place during this era: The Fallen Star and The Orphan Queen. We don’t know anything about The Fallen Star yet ... but we will. The team noted that history will one day know the modern era as “The Return of Aaravos.”

Polygon season 3 interview

Concept Art

Dorothy Yang’s design 'Fallen Star.’ Check out more of her work on ArtStation.

When they were first brainstorming ideas for the show Aaravos had a blindfold, but that was scrapped for being “too on the nose.” This is Giancarlos Volpe’s early sketches that he posted on Twitter.

[rafael-silva]

At First Glance: a buddie fic

Buck had no idea that the next call would hit so close to home. Too close. And that it would knock him off balance, in more ways than one.

Buck has his past locked behind a door but a call with a little boy unexpectedly rips that door wide open and brings it all rushing back. Eddie helps Buck through it, and Buck opens up to Eddie about his past, his parents and the years before he joined the Fire Academy.

Plus, the first time Eddie calls Buck Evan.

a/n: okay so! I saw a post on @buckleystrand‘s blog on different situations where Eddie calls Buck ‘Evan’ for the first time and I developed this with haley! and then I got an idea for a second part and THEN developed it more and thought of a third part, so this is going to be lengthy and I am excited! 

tags: hurt/comfort, panic attack, angst, buck’s past, kid fic, team as family, hand holding, buck is so strong and brave, not-good-fathers

It had started out as a normal shift. Laid back, even. The crew had gotten a few calls but none of them were hard to handle, and Hen and Chimney were called out with the ambulance a couple of times for minor injuries and easily took care of them and were back just in time for lunch. Eddie and Buck had helped Bobby in the kitchen with their lunch preparations; some salads and simple yet delicious sandwiches, while Hen and Chim were out.

Buck had no idea that the next call would hit so close to home. Too close. And that it would knock him off balance, in more ways than one.

And he wasn’t prepared for it.

*****

The bell goes off right as the crew had finished lunch. Pushing their chairs back and quickly getting to their feet, they’re by the engine and getting their turnout pants and coats on in a matter of seconds. They jump in and race towards the scene.

Athena’s police cruiser is pulling up the two story house just as the engine comes to a stop in front of the front yard. Bobby hops out, already giving Buck and Eddie orders and meeting his wife halfway.

“You were called too?”

Athena nods. “Multiple 911 calls were made from his house over the past few weeks, the line stays open for about ten seconds, with no one saying anything, before hanging up. Wanted to see what’s really happening here.”

Bobby nods, and surveys the house in front of him. “Eddie, Buck, gear up, you’re going in. Do a preliminary search and get anyone out. Stay on the radios and keep me updated, we’ll lift the arial but the window for assistance and we’ll be ready to hose it down.”

“On it, Cap,” Eddie nods.

He and Buck swiftly lift their oxygen tanks, holstering them on their shoulders and securing them. They wear their masks and grab their axes, making their way towards the front door.

Eddie tries the knob but it doesn’t budge. He steps aside for Buck to kick it in, which he easily does.

“Fire and rescue, call out!” Eddie yells as he steps into the house and starts following the smoke.

But repeats his best friend’s words and follows him.

“Who called it in?” Bobby asks.

“Neighbor,” Athena points to a lady standing nearby, “she saw the flames coming from the bedroom,” she then points to the room overlooking the street.

“Do you know who lives here?” Bobby walks over to the neighbor.

She nods. “A father and his son, about eight. But I don’t see them often. They tend to keep to themselves. Well, the father tends to keep the boy away from everyone.”

And on cue, the father emerges from the side of the house, presumably from the backyard. His eyes are wide at seeing the firefighters and Athena.

“Sir? Sir,” Bobby jogs over to him. “Are you alright? Were you inside the house?”

“Yeah, I was in the backyard, what’s going on?” His eyes widen more when he looks up and sees the flames, now engulfing the curtains.

“You mean to tell us you didn’t notice the fire inside your home? And that is was your neighbor that had to call it in?” Athena asks in her unimpressed tone.

“I was in the backyard on a business call, there was no fire when—Jake, where’s Jake?”

“Your son?”

“Yeah, I left him upstairs. He was playing on his iPad,” he replies and immediately tries running towards the busted front door, only to be stopped by Bobby.

“I can’t let you go in there,” Bobby says.

“My son is inside!”

“And my guys are on it,” Bobby responds. “Which room was he in?”

“In his room, on the other side of the house, that’s my bedroom on fire!”

Bobby grabs his radio and presses down. “Eddie, Buck, how’s the search going? I have the father with me here and reports that there is a boy on the second floor, last known position North East bedroom.”

“Negative, Cap,” Eddie radios back. “That room is clear. Buck cleared the rest of the floor, we’re heading to the South East bedroom now.”

“What was he doing in my bedroom?” The father mumbles under his breath, clearly irritated by the information. “He knows he’s not allowed in there.”

He says it in a loud enough voice that Bobby and Athena catch it and share a look.

Inside, Eddie follows the smoke and finds Buck working on the bedroom door, which swings wide open and a large puff of smoke escapes into the hallway.

“LA fire and rescue! Call out!” Buck yells and waits. Before he yells again, he hears a small cough coming from somewhere around the bed.

“Eddie,” Buck taps Eddie’s shoulder and points towards the bed.

“Go, I’m right behind you,” Eddie nods.

“Fire and rescue,” Buck repeats, in a much calmer tone.

Another cough.

Buck points to the bed, telling Eddie the noise is coming from under it.

Eddie nods again.

Buck slowly approaches the area, getting to his knees and taking a peak under the bed.

He finds the little boy curled by the wall, his ocean blue eyes wide and scared and face covered with black ash. And it breaks Buck’s heart.

“Hey, buddy,” Buck says, hoping it's not too muffled by the mask. “Are you hurt anywhere?”

The boy doesn’t respond.

Buck’s now lying on his stomach on the wooden floor and slowly begins extending his arm towards the boy. The boy shrinks back further towards the wall, getting more out of Buck’s reach.

“I need to get you out of here, bud,” Buck says. “I need to make sure you’re okay.”

The boy remains silent.

While Buck has been talking to the boy, Eddie had grabbed a few blankets and managed to put out some of the fire around them. Sensing his presence back at his side, Buck turns to look at Eddie and shakes his head.

Eddie grabs his radio. “Cap, we found the boy. But he’s hiding under the bed and he’s scared. Buck’s talking to him now. I managed to get some of the fire under control but it’s still spreading.”

“Copy, Eddie,” Bobby replies. “Sending fire extinguishers until you clear the room.”

“Copy, Cap.”

“I know you’re scared, little man, I would be, too. But I promise you’re going to be okay,” Buck tells the boy.

With no response, Buck pulls back and goes to remove his mask.

“Buck, what are you doing?” Eddie quickly asks, seeing Buck’s movement to remove his mask.

“I think the mask isn’t helping, I think he needs to see my face,” Buck answers. “And breathing isn’t so bad.”

“Don’t push yourself,” Eddie pleads.

Buck nods and goes back into his previous position, lying on his stomach. “Is this better, buddy?”

For the first time, the little boy actually looks at Buck. He seems to relax a little bit at seeing the firefighter’s unmasked face.

“I know, bud, I think it’s better, too. I’m here to help you, and to make sure you’re okay.”

The boy seems to start gravitating towards Buck, but Buck’s next words don’t help matters.

“That’s it, come on, buddy. Your dad is waiting for you outside,” Buck says.

At the mention of his dad, the little boy’s eyes widen again and he pulls back the small distance he had moved forward. And that look, the look of absolute fear drawn on this little boy’s face, Buck knows that looks, knows it all-too well. He’s seen it in the mirror.

His heart drops and a wide burning pit is slashed opened wide in his stomach.

He frowns, moving to look at Eddie.

“What?” Eddie asks.

Buck doesn’t reply, instead, he shifts his attention back to the boy.

Eddie doesn’t have time to ask again because he hears his name being called from the window that isn’t on fire.

“Eddie!”

He quickly goes and grabs the two fire extinguishers and puts them to use, clouding the room with white smoke and putting out the fire.

Taking a deep breath, Buck manages to push his mask under the bed. “Can you do me a favor, bud? Can you take a deep breath for me? We don’t have to move right away, but I need you to breathe for me,” Buck says, not wanting to rush the boy and to calm him down.

Ever so slowly, the boy reaches his arm and takes the mask, doing as Buck asked.

“Good, good,” Buck says as he watches. “I can make a deal with you, how does that sound?”

The boy nods, his blue eyes not leaving Buck’s own.

“I’ll get you out of here, and I’ll stay with you until we get to the hospital. I won’t leave you alone, I promise.”

Something in Buck’s voice, and in Buck’s eyes, made it easier for the little boy to trust Buck. To move towards him again, both physically and mentally.

“P-promise?” The little boy asks, his voice so small, Buck would have missed it if he hadn’t been concentrating and waiting for it.

“I promise, buddy. I’m Buck, what’s your name?”

“I’m Jake.”

“Hi, Jake,” Buck smiles. “I got you, okay?” He extends his hand.

After a few moments of hesitation, Jake’s hand grazes Buck’s and holds onto it.

“That’s it, bud,” Buck encourages Jake and slowly begins helping him out from under the bed.

Buck places his mask over Jake’s face and holds him close.

Jake wraps his arms around Buck’s neck and buries his face against Buck’s turnout coat.

“I got you, Jake, I got you,” Buck reassures the boy, holding him tightly and looking at Eddie.

“Let’s go,” Eddie nods. “We’re coming out, Cap.”

Bobby orders for the water hose and the crew and Athena watch as Eddie and Buck exit the house, the blond cradling the boy against his chest.

“Jake!” The father runs towards the firefighters but Jake shuts his eyes at hearing his dad’s voice, holding onto Buck tighter.

“I got you,” Buck whispers and puts on a straight face, moves past the father, and he keeps moving forward, even when the father yells after him.

“Hey, hey! Give me my son!” The father screams in an aggressive tone.

“I’m sorry, sir, Jake needs to be checked out by our paramedics first,” Buck says, not turning to look at him and heading towards the ambulance.

Bobby frowns at the exchange and notices how firmly the boy is holding onto Buck. “Sir, I’m going to ask you to step back, give us room to work.” He then turns to Athena and whispers, “something isn’t right.”

She nods, and senses she’s starting to understand those 911 calls. She watches closely as Buck hands Jake over to Hen, Jake not letting go at first but Buck says something that lets Jake’s grip on him loosen.

“Don’t let his father come close,” Buck whispers to Hen. He then looks at Athena and she understands his eyes.

“We have to take him to the hospital to get checked out,” Hen says, looking at Buck.

“I’ll go with him,” the father jumps at saying, his anxiety and nerves showing through his body language.

“Actually,” Eddie speaks, having noticed everything that went down, both inside the house and outside. “He has to go to the hospital, too,” he points at Buck. “He took off his mask to give Jake oxygen so he needs a check up, too.”

Buck gives Eddie a small, thankful nod.

“Can’t he just, go to the hospital in the firetruck?”

“That’s against protocol,” Bobby says, “he needs to go in the ambulance.”

The father sighs, annoyed. “Fine. I’ll follow in my car.” He turns on his heels and leaves without any further words.

“I’ll meet you at the hospital,” Athena tells Buck as he climbs into the back of the ambulance.

Buck nods and sits back.

Jake moves closer to Buck and Buck gently wraps his arm around the boy's shoulder as Hen places an oxygen mask over Jake’s face.

“Deep breaths, buddy,” Buck says.

They get to the hospital ten minutes later, Athena right behind them.

Buck stays close as Hen wheels Jake into the ER and relays information to the doctor and nurse. Jake looks at Buck and Buck smiles at him.

Athena comes to a halt next to Buck. “I’ll stay with him.”

“Thank you,” Buck replies.

“He’s really freaked out and his dad, the way he reacted to him…”

“I know, Buck. I’ll look into it, see what the doctors say after looking him over.”

“And his father?”

“I’ll keep him away.”

Buck nods. “Please keep me updated.”

“I will,” Athena promises.

“Hey, buddy,” Buck steps into the room, Athena on his heels. “Are you feeling better?”

Jake nods.

“That’s good. Listen, I need to get back to work, but this is my friend, Athena, and she’s going to stay with you,” Buck explains. “She won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

Jake thinks for a few moments. “Promise?”

Buck smiles. “I promise.”

Soon, after getting checked out himself and getting the all-clear, Buck hops back into the ambulance and they head back to the firehouse.

The only thing on his mind during the ride is Jake.

*****

Buck jumps out of the ambulance and doesn’t say a word as he mindlessly walks up the stairs where Bobby is sitting on the couch, scrolling through his phone. He looks up when he spots Buck, followed by Hen and Chim, walking into his line of sight.

“How’s the little boy?” The Captain asks.

“Hanging in there,” Hen replies. “He’s shaken up, Athena is staying with him.”

Bobby nods and turns to look at Buck, who has moved away from the crew and sat himself on the dining table. “And Buck?” He asks in a lower voice.

Chim shrugs. “Hasn’t said a word.”

“Let’s keep an eye on him, it wasn’t an easy call. And the way the little boy was holding onto him…”

Bobby had no idea how hard that call was for Buck.

“For sure, Cap,” Hen replies.

“Where’s Eddie?” Chim asks, looking around.

“Checking the oxygen tanks,” Bobby responds.

As planned, they keep their eyes on Buck. He mostly stays distant and stays silent, which is starting to worry them because both those things are so unlike Buck. But they don’t want to bombard him either, they want to give him space and hope for the best.

Until ten minutes later, when Buck drops his phone on the table and violently pushes his chair back, resting his elbows on his thighs and dropping his face into his palms.

“Buck?” Bobby frowns, getting to his feet and walking towards the younger man. “Buck, you okay?”

Buck doesn’t respond.

Bobby shares concerned looks with Hen and Chim as they stand next to him.

“His breathing is elevated, his shoulders are tense,” Hen observes.

It’s clear Buck was trying to keep his breathing under control, but he was failing. His chest was tight, his quickened breathing not giving his lungs enough time to use the oxygen, and his face was hot, it was so hot he felt like he needed to jump into ice water. His entire body was on fire. And he was starting to shake.

Before anyone can say anything else, they hear footsteps on the stairs, followed by Eddie’s worried voice.

“What’s going on?”

“Something’s not right,” Chim answers, motioning to Buck.

“Buck?” Eddie says, doing his best to keep his worry under control. “Hey, Buck.”

Eddie walks between Chim and Hen and drops to his knees in front of his best friend, taking in the taller man’s state and condition.

“He’s having a panic attack,” Eddie remarks, his eyebrows knitting together. “Christopher has had a few of them,” he adds.

“Buck, Buck, it’s okay,” Eddie says, “you’re safe.”

Buck doesn’t budge.

Eddie tries again. “Buck, it’s Eddie. Can you look at me? You’re okay.”

Slowly, Buck starts lifting his face and faces Eddie, but his eyes are hazy, unfocused, the blue so clear and swimming in unshed tears.

And this time, it’s Eddie’s heart that breaks at the sight.

“That’s it, Buck,” Eddie nods. He wants nothing more than to wrap his arms around Buck and to hold him close, to protect him, but he knows Buck’s reaction to such an action could be unpredictable. And Eddie doesn’t want to make it worse.

So, Eddie uses the one thing he can use to help Buck: his voice.

“Buck, focus on my voice,” Eddie guides him in a stable tone. He takes a deep breath, “Buck…Evan.”

Eddie watches it happen in slow motion. He watches as Buck’s eyes go from hazy to landing on his own brown ones, and steadily begin to focus.

Eddie could cry with happiness.

“Eddie?” Buck whispers.

“Yeah, I’m right here, you’re okay,” Eddie gives Buck a small smile.

“Eddie,” Buck sighs, relieved at finding his best friend’s kind face.

“You back with me?”

Buck swallows against his dry throat and nods. “Yeah, I just…”

“Breathe with me, breathe in for five…now hold it for another five and slowly blow out,” Eddie leads. They repeat it a few times until Buck’s breathing is under control. “Do you want some fresh air?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, yeah,” Buck replies.

A few minutes later finds Buck and Eddie sitting side-by-side on a bench outside the firehouse.

“The fresh air helping?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah, it is,” Buck responds.

“Good.”

A few moments of silence.

“You called me Evan,” Buck turns to look at Eddie.

Eddie nods.

“This is the first time you call me that,” Buck’s eyes roam over Eddie’s face.

“Yeah, I just, I thought it would help, get you out of the trance,” Eddie explains. “Something that you haven’t heard from me before.”

Buck nods. “It did, it helped and…it was nice to hear. Thank you, for bringing me back.”

Eddie shrugs it off. “It was nothing, I’m just glad it worked and that you’re okay.”

“I haven’t had a panic attack in years,” Buck sighs.

“Listen, you don’t have to…you don’t have to talk about it if don’t want or if you’re not ready. I got your back, remember? No matter what,” Eddie smiles.

Buck takes a deep breath. “I appreciate that, I do. But I think…I would like to tell you, to talk about this…with you.”

“Then I’m here to listen,” Eddie promises.

“I haven’t talked about this in…years.”

“Take your time,” Eddie replies.

“The call earlier today,” Buck starts, “it, uh, it hit really close to home. Because…I saw myself in Jake.”

“What do you mean?” Eddie frowns.

“I was Jake,” Buck looks at Eddie, his eyes sad, face drawn in pain, eyes glassy. “The whole thing, with the dad and…that was me. I know you could tell that something wasn’t right, and you are correct. It wasn’t right. That man…the moment I looked into Jake’s eyes, I knew.”

Eddie nods. “I thought he was just scared but the way he reacted to his father…”

“Yeah, that kid was not scared of the fire, he was scared of his dad,” Buck sighs, taking a moment to really let that sink in, that statement that brought back so much.

And Buck started sensing the feeling of dread climbing back and making its presence known in his chest. But then he looks to his side, and seeing Eddie there, next to him, it grounds Buck, and he takes a deep, slow breath, letting it out evenly.

“Your father…” Eddie speaks, his mind still catching up to what Buck has been saying.

“Wasn’t a very good father,” Buck nods.

“Wasn’t?”

Buck shrugs. “I think my parents are still living in Pennsylvania. Last I heard, at least. I left when I was eighteen and never went back. Or looked back. I haven’t thought about it in a while, but with Jake today…”

“It brought it all back,” Eddie says.

“Yeah. I travelled around, ending up in South America and stayed there for a couple of years, bartending. And when I returned to the States, my father reached out to me. And not to tell me to come home or that he missed me or to check on me, but he wanted to say how disappointed he was that I just…left, that I didn’t ask about them. Basically that I took my life into my own hands and…did what was best for me. He loved control, and he controlled me for most of my life, but then I left and he lost that control. And Maddie had already left. He just wanted that control back, he never cared about me or what I wanted,” Buck opens up, staring into the distance as he spoke. “He was manipulative and cruel and selfish.”

Eddie’s heart drops at Buck’s words, shaking his head. “Buck, I’m so sorry. I hate that you went through that, you deserve so much better.”

Buck shrugs. “I enlisted with the SEALs soon after that, but that didn’t really work out for me. Wanting to make a difference, I joined the Fire Academy and well, here we are.”

“Here we are,” Eddie nods, not taking his eyes off Buck.

“I just…I’ve always had this feeling that…I wasn’t enough, that I never will be enough,” Buck admits, closing his eyes.

Eddie’s frown deepens at Buck’s statement. “Buck, no. No. Hey, look at me. Open your eyes and look at me,” he begs.

After a moment, Buck peels his eyelids open and looks at his best friend. Neither say anything for a few seconds, instead, Eddie’s eye roam down to where Buck’s hands rested in his lap and then back up at the blue irises.

“That’s not true,” Eddie states. “You are enough, God, you’re more than enough.” And after a second of hesitation, Eddie reaches out, taking Buck’s hand in his own and giving it a gentle squeeze. “You are enough, Evan Buckley, and anyone would be blessed to have you in their life.”

And in that moment, Buck is feeling so much. Feeling Eddie’s skin on his, the way Eddie’s thumb is caressing his hand. The warmth spreading through him, from Eddie’s touch and words. Something was filling Buck, something soft and peaceful. Hope and joy, and trust. So much trust. It all takes Buck’s breath away and he can’t really find the words to express it all.

Buck doesn’t stop the tear that rolls down his cheek.

“You have blessed me and my son in so many ways, so many times. You saved me, Evan, and you saved Christopher. He thinks the world of you,” Eddie continues, and the sincerity in his voice, and the look of absolute truth on Eddie’s face, and the rawness in his eyes, Buck has rarely seen Eddie this way, rarely seen him allowing himself to be this vulnerable and this open. And it lifts Buck and carries him to the stars.

Buck adjusts his hand and intertwines his fingers with Eddie’s.

“I don’t know what I would do without you and Chris,” Buck says.

“You won’t have to find out, because we’re not going anywhere,” Eddie vows.

“I just…I want to save Jake, I want to look out for him. I barely saved myself,” Buck sighs. “I want to do better.”

“Buck, you saved yourself, in so many ways. You got yourself out, despite how hard that must have been. You survived. And you came out stronger. You’re one of the strongest and bravest people I know,” Eddie declares.

Buck’s face breaks into a smile, a genuine smile. “That…that means the world. Thank you, Eds.”

Before Eddie can reply, Buck’s phone starts ringing.

He fishes it out of his pocket and checks the caller ID. He faces Eddie.

“It’s Athena.”

[dangerousconnoisseurdonut]

Curse of Loki preview (F/F/m)

On AO3, I have a request for a Tickle Fic, something I have toyed with for years, but never had the guts to do until now. I realize tickling isn’t everyone’s kink, but please be kind as this is my first attempt. I am posting a preview here to get a feel if I’m doing this right.

Now, context! Bruce has been sent a horn with Norwegian Runes all over it. What he doesn’t know is that this is the Horn of Loki, the Trickster God and causes... interesting results between the recipient and their enemies. In this case, Bruce and the Rogues of Gotham. After he has blown the horn, he gets the urge to go into the city and winds up at Selina’s flat, not realizing that she has a guest at the minute and... well, here goes nothing.

“Relax, Bruce, I just wanted to lounge around for a change; Tabitha and Barbara got me this on my last birthday. Do you like it?” Selina gave a little pose and Bruce did his best to keep his eyes on her face where they belonged and not drawn to her cleavage which he had never seemed to notice before. It was darker than magenta, somewhere between sangria and mulberry, with pink cherry blossoms scattered on it; it was indeed beautiful, but Bruce was wishing at the moment she had something on underneath as he could see her breasts, including her perky nipples.

“Bruce?” Selina asked with a shit-eating grin as though she had a damn good idea why he hadn’t answered her, causing his blush to deepen as he responded,

“Nice! It’s very, uh, very nice!”

“I think the naughty boy was eyeing your tits, Cat.” Bruce whirled around at the sound of another female, only to find Bridgit Pike waltzing into the room in another bathrobe, this one somewhere between navy and indigo, with white orchids. He was struck by how attractive she was, even with the scars on her face and what he could see of her body; her hair was long, though there was none where her face had been burned, and her smile was one of the, pardon the pun, cat who got the canary. He felt himself harden as he suddenly felt very much like a canary.

“Uh, I’m uh, sorry for interrupting you two, I’ll just, um, I’ll just -” Bruce was shocked when Bridgit grabs the lapel of his jacket and pulls him to her so she can kiss him. As he and Bridgit make-out, he feels Selina grab his jacket and pull it off of him. Bruce however gets a moment of clarity and pulls away as Selina pulls his button up partially off, ripping a few of the buttons off and trapping his arms in the sleeves.

“W-wait a minute, what are y-you -?” Bruce just about jumped out of his skin when Selina dug her fingers into his underarms, causing him to almost bite his tongue off as he fought not to laugh.

“Naughty boys need to be punished, but we don’t want to hurt you so, Selina and I think you need a good laugh; not to sound like Jerome, but you are way too serious.” Bridgit explains as she lightly runs her fingers over his ribs. Bruce doesn’t say anything, knowing the minute he opens his mouth he’ll start laughing and won’t be able to stop. He hadn’t been tickled since he was seven, and he had forgotten how much he hated it. Selina and Bridgit start leading him to Selina’s bed, digging their fingers into his ribs or underarms when he tries to struggle. Bruce is almost crying from the exertion it’s taking to not laugh. When it comes time to get him on the bed, they move quickly to get Bruce’s arms out from the shirt, and tied down using some scarves. For his legs, Bridgit sits on Bruce’s stomach and switches between his underarms and stomach, not letting him get used to either sensation as Selina wrestles him out of his shoes, pants, underwear, and socks before tying his legs down. Bridgit stopped for a moment, enjoying seeing Bruce struggle to contain his laughter, as Selina went to get something.

“P-please Bridgit, I, I’m sorry I looked at Selina’s breasts; you’re both so pretty I couldn’t help it, but I’m so sorry for being a pervert and -mmph!” Bruce was cut off as Bridgit again kissed him, and he moaned a little as she played with his nipples before Selina came back.

“Starting without me?”

“I’ve never seen a guy apologize so much for sneaking a peak at a boob before.” Bridgit explained as she petted Bruce’s locks, something he actually seemed to enjoy.

“I told you; he’s an odd one but can actually be kind of sweet, like a puppy.” Selina said as she resumed her position at his feet, making him worry about what she planned to do.

“Well, even cute puppies have to be disciplined when they do something naughty, but since he seems so sincere with his apology, I think we can give him a little reward afterwards.” Bruce went to beg again, only for Bridgit to lightly trail her fingers up to his underarms, prompting him to keep his mouth shut and bite his lips.

“Gotta warn you handsome; we won’t stop until we hear you laugh. Why not make it easy on yourself and just let it out?” Bruce shook his head, causing Bridgit to sigh before smirking as she dug her fingers into his underarms and Selina tickled his thighs, a place he didn’t even think was ticklish but Selina just had to prove him wrong. He giggled, chortled, and snorted behind closed lips, but still refused to out and out laugh, even when Bridgit switched to his stomach and Selina tickled his knees (seriously, knees could be a ticklish spot?). Though, when one of Bridgit’s fingers got close to his navel, he almost lost control, though sadly he knew Bridgit had seen it for what it was when she got a wicked gleam in her eyes before saying,

“He’s a tough nut to crack, Cat; I think we better up our game.” Selina released a very put-upon sigh as she responded,

“You asked for this Bruce.” Bridgit leaned over as Selina also stopped to get something, though just what Bruce could not see. When Bridgit pulled back, she held what appeared to be a makeup brush, making Bruce wander just what was she going to do with that. He wasn’t allowed to worry about it however as Selina grabbed the toes of his right foot and stretched them back as far as they would go, leaving his arch taut. He got the uneasy feeling he was about to face his Waterloo. Bridgit then leaned down and placed the brush on his stomach and started a slow spiral edging closer and closer to his navel. Soon, it was tracing the navel itself, and Bruce was shaking so bad with suppressed laughter, he thought he was going to pass out. Those soft, silky bristles felt like dragons teeth on his sensitive stomach. Bridget looked him straight in the eye, amber into green, and asked,

“Does our naughty pretty boy have a ticklish belly button?” Before Bruce could confirm or deny, Bridgit dug the makeup brush right into his navel to swirl it around same time as Selina lightly ran her nails up his foot. Actually, to Bruce’s horror, he realized Selina was wearing her gloves with the claws on them, and they were what she was lightly dragging up and down his foot. At the twin sensations, Bruce didn’t stand a chance and finally burst out,

“Hahahaha! P-please s-s-stop! I, I c-can’t t-t-take this!” Bruce hated how he was reduced to stuttering, but the girls were just too good. Selina kept her touch light to make sure her claws didn’t accidentally pierce the skin, but that didn’t make it any less intense as she used one claw to draw nonsensical patterns along his sole, first lines going up and down, then spirals on the ball and heel of his foot, then zig-zags across his arches. Bridgit meanwhile kept switching between the brush and her her finger digging into his navel. Sometimes, just to spice things up, she would use the brush on his navel while digging her fingers into his underarm. Her dual sensations of sharp and soft were driving him up the wall. Once, she even ran the brush over his nipple and as the silky smooth bristles ran along his slightly swollen nub, he didn’t know if he wanted to moan or bite his tongue off.

“You know, Bruce, for a guy who runs around as much as you do, you have really soft feet.” Selina casually remarked before she gave into temptation and ran her tongue up the sole in front of her, enjoying Bruce’s bucking as he almost screamed,

“S-Selina! P-pl-please s-stop! Hahahaha!” Bridgit then found a similar urge over taking her so she leaned down and ran her tongue along Bruce’s underarm, relishing in the squeal Bruce couldn’t hold back as she licked and nipped at the smooth skin there.

“Isn’t Bridgit beautiful, Bruce?” Selina asked before she nipped at his arch and soothed it with her tongue.

“V-v-very b-b-beautiful!” Bruce had started laughing so hard, he was actually crying a bit.

“Why don’t you show her how beautiful you think she is by eating her out?” As though convincing him of the idea, she tickled one sole with her claws and licked the other one, going so far as to take his pinky toe into her mouth and run her tongue all around it.

“A-anything y-you w-w-want!” Bruce was almost convinced he was having an out of body experience from the sensations. He took in a huge breath when they stopped while Bridgit moved to sit on his face, though he was surprised when she turned around so she would be facing Selina.

“If you think I’m going to stop tickling you and making you do that cute little laugh of yours, you’re as nuts as Selina says you are. Besides, this gives me better access to your cute little belly button.” Bruce whimpered before leaning forward to her center; he hadn’t had much practice with this, but he remembered a few drunken fumblings with Grace, and she directed him to what she liked and didn’t like, though this time he was hindered by only having his tongue and he was at the wrong angle to reach her clit. Still, he started by gently licking her inner lips with little nips here and there, and he heard her give a little moan.

“Looks like you haven’t been training your puppy enough Selina; he’s very shy, but seems like he’s -ah!- trying.” Bridgit stroked his hip as she spoke, and Selina smirked as she responded,

“Maybe we should encourage his tongue a bit more by way of example?” ‘Oh no, what now?’ Bruce whimpered before almost dislodging Bridgit when he bucked like a bronco at the feeling of tongues on his most ticklish spots. Selina repeated the action of putting his toes in her mouth and running her tongue and now teeth around them as she dragged her claws along the arch. Bridgit meanwhile leaned down and used her fingers to spider up and down his stomach as she stuck her tongue in his navel and swirled it around before nipping at the skin around it. As he laughed at such intense sensations, Bridgit moaned at the vibrations, causing her own tongue to vibrate in his navel, which made it tickle even more. He wondered about the heat that had started bubbling up in his stomach from all this; was he becoming aroused from being these powerful girls little tickle and sex toy?

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week: 2021-03-01

First Monday of the Month. My boss just quit at work which means I'm now the only formally trained engineer left who has any particular specialization in embedded systems. This week is going to be a doozy.

I also wrote a Very Long set of media updates because I’ve been consuming some stuff that makes me think a lot. Never a good sign.

Listening: I spent all of Saturday playing Minecraft after talking with some friends about it during the week on IRC. Practicing what I preach with regards to my Large Biome Supermacy policy, which does involve a lot of walking. Hence, I started catching up on The Adventure Zone: Graduation again, I'm like ten episodes behind.

https://maximumfun.org/episodes/adventure-zone/the-adventure-zone-graduation-ep-32-by-a-haircut/

I don't really enjoy Travis' DM'ing style. It's very loose and he has a tendency to let players run wild without much structure which is a tricky thing to handle. He does a lot of worldbuilding and character design but doesn't seem to plan much in the way of arcs. That pays off sometimes (returning to the school to realize they broke a promise they made a few sessions earlier and had to deal with consequences, for example) and when it does, it’s really good, but it's finnicky. I know DM's who can do that, but, well, actually I know One Single DM who can do that well and she's absurdly smart.

Reading: Still on Worm, I just got past chapter 8 or so now. It lives in my phone browser so I've mostly been reading it whenever I get some spare time, which is a good sign. If a book doesn't grab me I need to really settle down in a quiet space to avoid getting distracted, but I can read Worm while someone else is on the phone in the same room.

It is a story with a lot of very well-conveyed feelings and events. It's very easy to imagine yourself in it. Characters actually act like they care about what they're doing, I feel like writing this took a lot of care to keep everyone on model.

There's also a certain care given to the superpowers that you'd usually only see in forum posts arguing about an actual superhero story. Everyone always likes to argue about how far you can push a superpower: can you use teleporting to fly? What prevents a speedster from catching fire in the air? Where does the energy for a  pyrokinetic ability come from? Worm takes these and runs with them as a way to make absolutely any fight become a series of gambits relying on whether a power can or cannot be used to perform some high-stakes trick.

The world certainly has some underpinning contrivances to explain why no one gets killed very often but I've always considered nitpicking the base contrivances of a setting silly, because that's precisely what they are: contrived, in order to allow the rest of the story to flow from there. Like arguing about Omega’s abilities in the famous thought experi-*I am dragged off stage by the ratblr police for making a by now extremely stale joke*

Watching: I came and edited this section in like an hour before this posts because I keep on forgetting to put it in. I don’t really like watching TV and with my parents stuck at home in Pandemic Times it’s how they pass the time.

I did finish S3 of the Good Place. It’s very funny. I’m glad I’m watching it and I’m going to have to go find S4 because ZA Netflix doesn’t have it for whatever reason. It feels a little like it was written by Phillip Pullman if Phillip Pullman was a comedy TV writer.

I also really enjoyed the PBS Spacetime video about how time causes gravity. Love when an explanation of concepts is good enough that you drawn the conclusion on your own.

Playing: Visual Novel Hell plus Minecraft.

I spent approximately seven hours in Minecraft over two days. I tend to hop in and out of games for 1-2 hours at a time but there's a handful that can suck me in for an entire day. Minecraft, Warframe, Horizon Zero Dawn, Night in the Woods. Bastion, to a lesser extent. I end up avoiding them because I don't like loosing entire days, but I wasn't really planning on doing anything this weekend anyways.

Minecraft was mostly a long-ass trek to find a saddle, because as previously mentioned, I enjoy playing it with Large Biomes for the sense of scale.

I also completed Act 3 of Psycholonials and Eliza.

Psycholonials is odd. It is doing the thing that Hussie does where it dances around what's ostensibly the story to carry out the actual story. You get used to the trope after your first encounter but it still makes you wonder when the other shoe will drop, and of course, there's no reason it ever has to. The story may remain in suspended animation behind the every growing mess of narrative red tape tying the B-plot together.

Stories about Social Media have no well established norms. I think I might pick up Feed by M. T. Anderson and also perhaps Hank Green's books sometime. See what context they set that in.

Eliza is frustrating to me. It's a game for programmers, by programmers, about programmers. I'm friends with a lot of Capital P Programmers, the types who go to university and get sniped for developer positions at Seattle or Silicon Valley tech companies and who make great and terrible things and then warn you about the deep problems that underpin the slowly rolling ball of venture capital and bloated technology that is the tech industry. But at the same time, it makes me feel like I've burnt out on that conceptually before I even went in. It’s a whole other world that I’m familiar with but very distant from. In fact, that’s kinda how I feel about Psycholonials too. I’m familiar with the social media rat race but I also don’t go there. Parallels!

My cousins (who are halfway to Capital P Programmers, only so much you can do halfway around the world from silicon valley) warned me not to go into CS, because it would bore me, and that's a non-trivial part of why I'm in Engineering. They gave the same advice about Biology and Physics, without that I may have ended up in Microbiology. it’s not my domain, but because of how Engineering is going, you end up a lot closer to programmers than you think. I found out the other day that most of the software developers on my team have no formal tertiary qualifications, which is accepted in CS but of course, right out when it comes to engineering. It’s a whole other world that I kinda expected to skip around. I might go into this another time, since this post is already getting long.

Making: I haven’t done any engineering scicomm posts on here in a while so I started a few blank drafts and finally got one off the ground. With some luck I’ll have that ready this week. What’s it about? Not saying! It might change!

I’ve been doing layout for a custom keyboard, I need to call a laser cutting place and find out what their kerf requirements are so I can adjust the path accordingly. Wouldn’t do to burn a couple hundred rand on an oversized part, I’m paying for this, not my employer like the other times I’ve done laser cutting, so I’m probably not going to spring for getting one of their designers to check my design. At some point I should CAD up a chassis, but at the same time I might just buy some wood and go ham with a router once I get the plates cut.

Computers Slot: I got WeeChat set up properly on my desktop, which technically was just a matter of getting my SSH keys moved over. It’s taking me forever to move in to Cinnabar, in part because Stibnite lost her boot partition and I haven’t bothered to fix it.

So here’s a pitch for WeeChat as a good quality Terminal UI IRC Client. Many of my closest friends live there and it has a good set of tools to help me keep in touch.

WeeChat is very configurable but with perfectly sane defaults, I didn’t configure it for years. The UI is smarter and less arcane than something like irssi, and if you enable mouse support it can be downright modern. Running it remotely like this limits some features but as long as you don’t mind jumping through a few hoops to do filesharing, IRC is really great like this.

One of the big ones is the ability to do that double-pane thing, I can keep an eye on two channels at once (really as many as I can cram on my screen, but usually two) which is great when you want to browse channels while talking in your home channel.

It also has a good array of remote access tools, from what I’m running up there, just weechat running on my server inside tmux connected over mosh for low-latency SSH, to weechat-relay, a relay protocol built in to weechat. At the moment relay only supports android phones and the glowingbear web client, but I’ve never really looked around since both of those cover all my needs. Easily one of the best ways to get IRC on a modern mobile device, barring maybe IRCCloud.

[xazz]

Okay now that I’m not always on the cusp of passing out from anemia we can get back to writing and posting

Pairing: AltMal, Altair+Desmond Rating: Explicit Tags: vampires, romance, servant AU, music AU, fluff, angst, flangst Status: WIP

As before Tumblr gets updated before AO3, meanwhile Patreon is like 40k words ahead of everyone. Like Malik and Altair have fucked already lol

-----

Altair was woken with a start to the sound of a slamming door. His eyes popped open and he didn’t know where he was. Then he looked next to him and saw a window, the curtains drawn. It was pitch black out.

He sat bolt upright, all the blood leaving his face.

He’d slept too late. He needed to go get Desmond. Oh the mistress would be furious with him! He was about to scramble out of bed when he realized he wasn’t alone in the bed.

Sitting on top of the comforter, was Desmond. “Altear,” he said when he saw Altair was awake.

“Desmond- what are you doing here— oh where am I?” He looked around in confusion. He was in a lovely bedroom. It hit him like a beam of wood. He was in Malik’s bed. The foreign vampire had insisted he take it and he sleep in the sarcophagus.

“Altear, plaw,” Desmond said.

“Not now,” he said gently. “Just a moment. I-“ he got out of bed as a figure stepped into the doorway. He froze but relaxed somewhat when he saw it was Malik.

“Ah, apologies. Did the door wake you? I didn’t think of that,” he said. Malik was unusually flushed, his skin ruddy and warm looking.

“I should have been up,” Altair said. “What’s he doing here?”

“I brought him here of course,” Malik said. “He’s been fed, its the one thing that useless mother of his does for him,” Malik rolled his eyes.

Altair remembered the conversation from last night. “Did— you talk with my masters?” he asked nervously. It would explain the slamming door and Malik being flushed from an argument.

“I did,” Malik said calmly. “We do not see eye to eye on how to treat the help.” His eyes narrowed. “But that’s not your problem.”

“... Am I going to be punished for what you did?”

“What? No. Why would you? William knows it was my idea alone.”

Altair breathed a sigh of relief. “Altear, plaw,” Desmond said.

“Desmond, I just woke up. Give me a moment here,” he said. Desmond folded his little arms. He ran his hands through his hair trying to think. “What now then?” he asked Malik. He knew Malik had ideas already. “Will you let me alone?”

“Am I such a bother?”

“I would have rather been ignorant than know what you told me,” Altair said. “I can never unknow this now. I know my stay here at the castle will be a long one. And your stay will end before that. I wish you hadn’t told me about the cellar.”

Malik frowned and he walked into his bedroom properly. “You deserve to know, and be treated with some damn dignity.”

“They already basically kidnapped me, Malik. I have no dignity left,” Altair said loudly. “You think I wanted to come here? I had a life, a livlihood. I’m my father’s only child. If he dies before this is over there will be no more luthiers in the valley,” he rubbed his face miserably.

“Do they know that?”

“They don’t care,” Altair said weakly. “They’ll care in twenty years when no more instruments are made and the ones around become broken and no one can fix them and their parties will be only full of brass and percussion. Fiddle players will keep their instruments carefully but they’ll eventually become warped with time and age and wet and they won’t sound right anymore.” Altair sighed deeply. “But right now they don’t care the only heir to the luthier family in the valley is here, in the castle, raising their son because they won’t.” He hugged himself.

Malik came closer. “Can I do anything-

“No,” he sat on the bed miserably. “No one can do anything. I’m stuck here until Desmond is big enough. Who knows when that will be,” he looked at Desmond.

“Plaw,” he said.

Altair sighed. “Alright. I need to go get the violin-

“Oh, I brought it,” Malik said and nodded to next to him. Altair looked and the case was there. “I figured you’d want it.”

“Thank you,” Altair picked it up and put it on the bed. Malik sat on the end of the bed as he tightened the bow and tuned the strings, listening carefully as he turned the pegs. It needed only slight adjustment each time, as he loosened the strings some at night so they wouldn’t have too much tension on them.

“Plaw, plaw!” Desmond cried happily. He immediately became quiet when Altair drew the bow across the strings in a rich chord. He closed his eyes and like last night started with the lullaby with a flourish before breaking off into some riffs he didn’t remember as soon as he played them. But they sounded good. That’s all the two vampires cared about, that they sounded good, they didn’t care if Altair played an actual song or not.

He played for a while before his stomach started to complain quietly. He pulled the bow across one last time as he opened his eyes. Desmond was watching with wide eyes of amazement. Malik was watching with equal intensity. “No,” Desmond complained.

“Yes. I’m hungry,” he told Desmond.

“Plaw, plaw.”

“Later,” Altair put the violin away. He then picked Desmond up and grabbed the case. “We’ll be off now,” he told Malik. “Thank you for letting me sleep here, sir. But please, leave me alone.” Malik frowned at him but he didn’t care if he’d hurt the vampire’s feelings. He’d single handedly upturned Altair’s entire life by telling him he was being treated like less than livestock and he had a miserable existence to look forward to for years to come.

He put the violin in Desmond’s room and carried the child down to the kitchen. Desmond busied himself investigating all the lower cabinets while Altair had a cold pasta salad. It had been in the cool box a while too long and was mushy. It tasted awful. He didn’t finish it and just put his face in his hand tiredly.

Why did this have to happen to him?

He looked down when Desmond pulled on his shirt. “What is it, Desmond?” he asked quietly, looking at the little vampire boy. Desmond made a motion like he was hungry. Of course he was. Just what Altair needed. To look at one of those damn vampires who lied to his face and ask them to go get Desmond a meal from the ‘livestock’. Yeah. Sure.

“Are you really hungry or are you bored huh? You had breakfast just a little while ago,” Altair said and combed Desmond’s bangs from his eyes gently. Desmond just shrugged.

He wasn’t going to ask a vampire for help. He just pushed himself to his feet and stuck one of the chickens. Desmond wouldn’t care and his parents wouldn’t know. Not like Desmond would tell them. Desmond still drank out of the big syringe, not quite coordinated enough to drink from a cup and Altair didn’t feel like cleaning up all the blood when he spilled. He put Desmond in his lap and fed him thinking about what to do.

Moonlight slanted through the thick window into the kitchen. It was well and truly dark out. Dawn was a long way away but he didn’t think it was so late yet really. Once Desmond had finished Altair left the kitchen through the side door and looked down the mountain. Castlesong still had lights on down below.

“Desmond,” Altair called. “You want to play?”

“Plaw!” Desmond jumped over to him, his useless little wings fluttering behind him excitedly.

Altair wanted a fresh, hot, meal damnit. “Okay. C’mon,” and he grabbed Desmond’s hand. “We’re going to go see the people.”

“Pople?” Desmond asked.

“Yes,” Altair stepped outside.

“Awwwww,” Desmond looked up. It occurred to Altair then that he’d never taken Desmond outside before. “Altear,” he pointed up at the stars and the moon.

“That’s the moon, and the stars,” Altair said. Desmond jumped like he wanted to fly but his insectoid wings were far too weak to carry him. Altair just smiled and led him down the stairs away from the castle.

On the road he hoisted Desmond up so he didn’t trip and continued the walk down to the town. Desmond reached up trying to grab the moon and Altair just chuckled. At least his wings had curled back up against his back.

It was late enough that the pub was mostly empty except for the lag abouts and drunks. A half asleep bard was in the corner plucking at his guitar, slumpee over the fat belly of the instrument. Altair sat with Desmond at a booth so he could lock the boy against the wall. Desmond’s mouth was open and he was staring all around in wonder at the building.

The maid came over, looked like she had a snide remark but noticed the vampire sitting next to Altair. Even if she didn’t know Desmond’s teeth still barely fit in his little mouth and hung open they were like little jagged knives behind his lips. She didn’t say anything at all. Altair just ordered the stew and bread, fresh bread, and an ale. The maid retreated, casting a look over her shoulder at Desmond as she left, white as a ghost.

“This place is neat huh?” Altair asked Desmond, propping his chin up with a fist. “It’s called a pub. Can you say pub?”

“Pup,” Desmond said, popping the second p.

“Pub,” Altair said back, popping the b instead.

Desmond giggled. “Pup pup,” popping the p each time. Altair smiled.

“That is a puppy. This is a pub.”

“Pub,” Desmond finally said.

“Good boy,” and Altair gave him a squeeze.

“Pup,” Desmond squeaked and Altair just chuckled. “Pupie? Pupie?”

“It’s a little... dog. But you don’t know what a dog is,” Altair sighed.

“Doug— dougy?”

“I’ll find a book with a dog in it, okay? And maybe a puppy too.”

“Pup pup,” Desmond peeped. Then he leaned back against the seat when someone came up to their table.

It was the bard with his fat bellied guitar. “Eavening,” he said, tipping his head to Altair.

“Morning,” Altair replied and the bard smirked.

“Mind if I join ya?”

“Depends on what you want.”

“Never seen a vampire before. He’s real little,” he smiled at Desmond who sunk under the table.

“He’s shy,” Altair said. “But he likes music.”

“You don’t say?” The bard swung his guitar around to be over his chest. “Well I happen to know a guy,” and he plucked a little ditty as cheerful and bouncy as a new fawn. Desmond’s eyes appeared over the top of the table with interest. “Ah, you like that huh?” he asked Desmond. Desmond nodded. “Good taste you got there, young master,” and the bard played a song Altair recognized.

“Come In, Come In, we'll do the best we can

Come In, Come In, bring your whole bloody clan

take it nice and easy and we'll take you by the hand

set ye down and treat ye 'dasent' I'm a valley man”

Altair felt himself singing along a little as the bard played. Desmond was enthralled. He crawled under the table to sit on the other booth seat to be closer to the bard. As the bard started the chorus the maid returned with Altair’s stew and bread. She eyed the bard but didn’t say anything and also didn’t ask Altair for any money. Good. Fuck her.

The bard had turned to Desmond now as he played and sang, bouncing his foot to keep the beat. It let Altair eat in peace. He hummed along to some of the song. The bard was very good and had a nice voice. After a few songs Desmond started making noises like he was singing along too and the bard started repeating verses so the child could catch on. Altair had by now finished his warm meal and was just watching them. It was cute to see Desmond happily going along with the bard just like a human child would. If you ignored the teeth and the eyes he even looked like a human child.

The bard played a fast song high on the register. A song he probably only sang to show off. He had a good range and could get those high notes that would normally require a woman singer to reach. But reached them. Desmond beeped up there at the high register too, trying to match the bard’s high chords. Then he did something that made Altair go white. He opened his mouth wide, far too wide for a human child, for a moment it looked like he was tearing open his mouth, and displaying a huge assortment of teeth so he could scream at a high octave. So much so that it made the glass of Altair’s tankard sing.

The bard jumped back, the music stopping abruptly. Altair lunged over the table and clapped his hand under Desmond’s chin to close his mouth, abruptly shutting off the sound.

The noise had roused the drunks and the lay abouts. They were all turned towards their little booth. The bard was white as a sheet and looked visibly shaken to really see how big Desmond’s mouth was and how full of teeth it was. “I think that’s enough for tonight,” and Altair got up and picked Desmond up. He protested but Altair paid him no mind. “I’m sorry for the trouble,” and Altair put the money he would have used to pay for the meal onto the table for the bard.

“No. No!” Desmond cried as Altair took him out of the pub.

“Yes,” Altair said sternly once they were outside. “You scared that man.”

“Plaw!”

Altair took some steps away from the front door and set Desmond down, then he took a knee in front of him. “You can’t do that,” he said sternly. Desmond folded his little arms, pouting. “You scared him. You made him afraid. Like when the light comes in from the outside sometimes when we don’t close your drapes all the way? That’s scary right?” Desmond nodded. “These are scary,” he pushed Desmond’s lips open to indicate his teeth. He knew Desmond wouldn’t bite.

“Wha?”

“Why? Because you’re a vampire, Desmond,” he said patiently. “I don’t have teeth like that, see,” and he bared his teeth at Desmond. Desmond nodded. “But outside vampire teeth are very scary to people.”

“Bad?”

“No. Not bad. But if you want people to like you you need to not frighten them,” he stroked Desmond’s hair gently.

“Altear do?”

Altair softened. “Yes. I like you. Do you feel bad?” Desmond nodded. “If you want people to be okay with mistakes you’ve made you need to say sorry. It’s important to apologize.”

“Altear, sowwy,” Desmond said, his little lips pursed sadly.

Altair hugged him. “Apology accepted,” he said gently. “Now let’s go home, okay?” When Altair picked him up Desmond didn’t protest. He just leaned on Altair’s shoulder and watched as they walked out of town and back up to the castle.

--

Hey you, yeah, if you liked it, consider reblogging. It helps me a lot. Maybe leave something nice in the tags idk.

[utilitycaster]

hello!! i just went thru your history of exandria post and im confused by the dates of the even of crimson midnight and the moleasmyr accident- in De'Leth's bio it says that he is one of those escaped elves and was also the founder of the assembly (ergo, was there for the Eve) so I think something is amiss... I also checked the dates, and Ludinus is an original member of the assembly. So how could he have fled Moleasmyr AFTER he'd already established the Assembly in Rexxentrum?

Hi!

Short, Doylist answer: Matthew Mercer is not superhuman and made a very understandable mistake.

Extremely long answer: Matthew Mercer is still not superhuman and still made a very understandable mistake (my guess is either he meant to put in 565 instead of 585 for the fall of Molaesmyr, or “not a half-century” for the date of the Eve of Crimson Midnight), but this, one of the the two biggest discrepancies in the history of Exandria* can both be handwaved (Watsonianed, if you will permit me turning that into a verb, and if you don’t I fully understand and probably deserve it) with a little bit of headcanon. Here is my headcanon which you are welcome to adopt, with dates, citations, and reasoning, below the jump.

Reasoning for the Date for the Eve of Crimson Midnight

So: the exact phrasing (Matthew Mercer, The Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount (Renton, WA: Wizards of the Coast, 2020), 16) for the Eve of Crimson Midnight is “Not a quarter century after the Marrow War ended....” blah blah, wizards fought, got captured and brought to the king, “After days of deliberation, an agreement was drawn up that would absolve those involved of the usual punishment in exchange for direct subservience to the Crown and the goals of the empire. Establishing themselves as the Cerberus Assembly, this council of mages became an powerful tool for the empire to maintain its position as the dominant force of Wildemount.”

“Not a quarter century” is something I’d personally interpret as “slightly less than 25 years later”; this is also the typical interpretation of that phrasing for most native English speakers, certainly native speakers of American English, which both I and the author of the book are, so we’re going with that.

The Marrow War has an explicit date given; the Admonition (execution of rebellious priests who were in turn spurred on by Julous Dominion interests) was in 544 PD (Mercer, p. 15) and later that year Emperor Manfried (the title of King rather than Emperor comes later) attacked the Julous Dominion, starting the Marrow War. It lasted “over sixteen months” which again I’d interpret as “more than 16 months, but probably not more than 17 otherwise you’d say that”, so depending on when the Admonition was, it ended in either late 545 PD, or early 546 PD. Not quite 25 years later would therefore put us in roughly 570 PD for the Eve of Crimson Midnight.

Reasoning for the Date of the Fall of Molaesmyr

This is much simpler! Per Mercer, p. 42: “What is known is that in the year 585 PD, suddenly and without warning, a wave of purple-gray shadow rapidly crept from the center of Molaesmyr to engulf the entire city.” It then goes on to describe that the elves fled, some “eventually” to settle Bysaes Tyl, some to Uthodurn.

Ludinus Da’leth’s personal history

Mercer, p. 42: “Ludinus is the oldest and only original member of the assembly...He was one of the mages who survived the destruction of Molaesmyr and fled to Bysaes Tyl, but he saw the opportunity to achieve greatness within the empire and left his culture behind to continue his arcane pursuits.”

A note on Bysaes Tyl

Per Mercer, p. 96, it took several years to build up the city, but for the sake of argument I am treating the region to which the elves of Molaesmyr originally fled as also Bysaes Tyl, thus indicating Ludinus may have only been there very briefly.

Here’s How Ludinus Can Still Be A Founding Member Of The Assembly

While the Eve of Crimson Midnight occurred circa 570 PD, as did the initial agreement that those involved would be directly subservient to the crown, it doesn’t actually indicate how long it took for those people to establish themselves as the Cerberus Assembly.

I would absolutely believe that a bunch of wizard academics who all tried to kill each other so hard they created collateral damage in the streets of Rexxentrum would absolutely take 15 years or more to consolidate a formal council and give it a cool name. In fact, can’t you just imagine it? Ludinus Da’leth, a promising young elven mage living in “the height of reborn civilization on Wildemount” (Mercer, p. 18) sees his home, his laboratories, everything he’s worked on, all destroyed. Perhaps it’s by his hand; perhaps by that of a colleague. He flees to a bitter cold forest with absolutely nothing. To the south, Rexxentrum stands as now the major site of arcane talent. Perhaps there’s been communication between the wizards of the Empire and those of Molaesmyr. Perhaps he’s heard that they are sworn in service to the king, but have been in disarray because they can’t elect a leader-after all, they’re in this position because “A number of noble houses with a strong history of studying arcane pursuits began to compete with other high-born magic practitioners from the Julous Dominion”. They can’t openly fight anymore, but the political games continue and neither those from within the pre-Marrow War boundaries of the Empire nor those from the recently-incorporated Julous Dominion can agree on council representation, and they’ve been deadlocked for over a decade. They have been serving the king, but he is becoming displeased.

Enter a neutral** third party: Ludinus Da’leth, formerly of Molaesmyr. A suitable compromise who just happened to make his way south - a gifted mage, eager to prove his allegiance to the Dwendalian crown and share what he knows. And so: the founding of the Cerberus Assembly, 15-20 years after the Eve of Crimson Midnight and shortly after the fall of Molaesmyr, following an uneasy interim period of mages in slightly disorganized service to the crown. And scene.

*the other big discrepancy is that the Chroma Conclave was stated to be in the year 815 PD on page 20 of the Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount, but in Campaign 1 episode 103 a minor NPC when asked for the date says the year is 812, which would instead put the Chroma Conclave in the last few days 810 PD per the dates given. However, since the month and day that NPC gives also don’t line up internally even with the other stated events of Campaign 1, and since using a date of late 810 for the Chroma Conclave would make Allura pretty young when she sealed away Thordak and conflicts with a bunch of dates mentioned since, including Delilah Briarwood’s expulsion from the Cerberus Assembly, Vilya’s time on Rumblecusp, and The Darrington Brigade’s stand against Quackthulu, I’m personally inclined to say “Matt probably didn’t have the date written down when asked, because it was episode 103 and the exact year had not been relevant so far, and/or misread 817 for 812 when looking down at his notes.” The headcanon to fix this is of course that the NPC got the date wrong and Vox Machina either didn’t realize due to *gestures vaguely at the events of episode 102* or was like wait are we in the past? seems fake and then asked someone else offscreen and got the right date, which is way less fun but much easier.

**technically, lawful, although who knows what his alignment was then. If you also buy into theories that Ludinus was in some way responsible for the fall of Molaesmyr you get some fascinating parallels to one similarly opportunistic and ambitious Hot Boi, and yes I did make a really stupid alignment joke just to make this point.

[weeklyfangirl]

Frat Boy Pt. 21

part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7 (1), part 7 (2), part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11, part 12, part 13 , part 14, part 15, part 16, part 17, part 18, part 19 , part 20

HI LOVIES. Please enjoy a Friday update on the Frat Boy universe. This one is a bit of a breather after the TUMULTUOUS ANGST of the last chappie. Shorter than my usual, but it’s all the chapter needed. Tons more y/n and Harry interaction on the way in the next! Have a safe and happy day loves xx

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

Things I want:

Live a life that helps others

Financial freedom

Experience a great love

Visit the the Pincio Gardens in Italy

To have more dreams and fewer nightmares

Doodle more

Acquire a first edition book, either because an old  friendly man who owns an antique bookshop decides to give it to me in a bonding moment, or because I have accomplished #2 and I am celebrating being a Boss Bitch

To be happy

Please note: not necessarily in that order

 It was taped above my desk, waiting for me to bring it in to the next session. I hesitated to write number 6. It was a dream I hardly entertained after committing my scholarly life to pursue medicine. I used to love to doodle. All the time. Since elementary school. I doodled so much my mom dedicated a wall in the house to my illustrations. She hung a sign above it that affectionately said ���Y/N’s Doodles.” Seriously, you couldn’t get me to stop. Even if it was gross sappy sketches of my crush Billy who I would NEVER show on the playground at recess.   

 My doodling stopped how these things normally do. Because life grew busier than anything else, and the sketchpad and easel my dad had bought for me at a garage sale became ignored, collecting dust in the corner of my room. At some point, it’d become a year since I’d drawn anything, and then it was two, and three, and by this point I’d realized I was the one who’d need to create her own stability in life and medicine was the more logical fit. It wasn’t that I didn’t see the value in drawing anymore, I just had other things take up my time. It became a comfort just knowing I used to draw. Paul had paved his way, and now I was on my way to do the same. At least with medicine, my soul felt fed. It was almost comfort enough. 

  “oH WE GOT A ROGUE ONE.” 

 A flying toenail hit my eye. 

 “WHAT THE-” I flailed my arms, as though there were a thousand more coming. Renny’s mouth opened in shock, her guilty body hunched over her bent leg. Clippers in hand.  

 “Sorry!!” Renny burst up laughing.

 “oH MY GOSH CAN YOU DO THAT OVER A TRASH CAN OR SOMETHING?!” 

 “IT HAD A MIND OF ITS OWN!!” she screamed back. 

 I blinked rapidly, my left eye watering up and spilling painless tears. “Well I’m going to have conjunctivitis at the studio later. Or I’ll be stumbling in blind.” I wiped it away.

 I heard another clip and she put up her hands with another giggle. 

 “All done. And you won’t stumble, I’m going to be there.” Renny extended her leg, her perfectly trimmed foot nearly touching the ceiling.

 “You’re just going to solicit Zayn to be his next subject.” 

 “Maybe,” her grin grew devious. “But also because I want to see if he captured the angelic beauty and complex nymph nuances of my best friend.” 

 I put a hand to my chest, still aching from uncertainty. “Honored.” 

 “Want to watch another episode until it’s time to go?” 

 This whole lazy morning had been an OC Housewives bingefest. She’d seen it on my homepage and had a complete spazz, twitching whilst proclaiming but i’ve been trying to get you to watch this show for YEARS!! When she saw the old season I was on, though, she didn’t have to question why her pestering had miraculously worked. She didn’t mention him aloud besides giving me a pointed look. And so, we watched it, even though I wasn’t really in the mood to see anything about Harry right now. It’d hurt more than I thought to walk away from him last night, and to see how sad he looked when I did. 

 After last night, he hadn’t posted anything to social media. He’d called, twice, but I knew he was drunk, or worse, and I was tired, and whatever he would say he could tell me in the morning. Even though I knew he wouldn’t. 

 And he didn’t. 

 And therein lay the problem. 

 It hurt to see his family on my little box of a computer screen, weird to see his life and get glimpses of his childhood. I felt like a hacker spying on home videos. But then I reminded myself that thousands of people had already done the same. At this point, it was just… morbid curiosity.

 “Nah, I don’t know if I can handle any more of that right now. Dr. Rhinecuff is going to yell at me if I don’t return these scanned copies to him by Monday.” 

 “Ew, he smells like meat.” 

 “RENNY!!” 

 “I’m just saying. That one time I went with you it smelled like pastrami in his office. He has a PhD, but isn’t with-it enough to buy air freshener.”

 “He likes pastrami sandwiches, let him live.” 

 She scrolled on her phone, not bothering to respond, and my gaze turned to the window. 

 “Hey Renny?” 

 “Hm.” 

 A bird flew close to the glass, halting just before it hit it, then zooming off in the opposite direction. “What’d you do when your parents were fighting?” 

 “Ummm…” I knew the question registered in her mind when she stopped scrolling, suddenly concerned. “Are your parents okay?”

 “Yeah. I mean, kind of.” I glossed over it, not caring to get into the bitter details. “I was just curious.” 

 “Uhh..” She plucked at the soft cotton of her cotton candy pajamas that were fraying at the knees. “I lost my virginity to Zach,” she half-laughed.   

 “Zach? Neighbor boy Zach?” 

 Renny nodded. She always sounded a little sad when she talked about him. Zach was the hot college boy who shared a backyard fence with Renny, the girl who may or may not have used her kitchen stool to peak over and see him workout on the grass every summer he came home. I’d known they’d slept together. I just didn’t think he was her first. 

 “I just tried to be out of the house as much as I could,” she said. “Found my true love Mary J.” 

 “Oh.” 

 “It was shitty, but I’m glad I got it over with.”

 “The divorce or your virginity.” 

 “Both,” she chortled. “Why what’s up? Are you sad or something? I have a j in my drawer.” 

 “No, no, I’m fine.” Mostly I was just wondering what it must be like to feel so sexually liberated. In my house sex wasn’t talked about. At all. The inevitable sex scene in every other movie would result in my dad blaring out “WHAT KIND OF MOVIE IS THIS!” in an attempt to make it less awwkard, but having it backfire and only make it horrendously more awkward. I wasn’t saving my virginity for anyone in particular, but after all those romance novels, I wanted it to be… something. I wanted to feel something towards the person where it would justify something I’ve kept to myself for so long. I wanted it to be intense. I wanted it to be like the books. Like a Frank Sinatra song that swept up your heart and transported you back to a time of gentlemen and cigars and women in long evening gowns with fur coats and martinis. 

 “I wish I could just get it over with,” I confessed. One half of me screamed YOU’RE IN YOUR TWENTIES HAVE ALL THE SEX while the other half said YOU’VE WAITED THIS LONG DAMN IT HOLD OUT A LITTLE LONGER. I didn’t know which part of me was compromising more. 

 Renny leaned in, quick. “Would you do it with Harry?” 

 Like the flip of a switch, I remembered the sensuous heat of his body against mine, wrapping me up and pressing me against him where we just fit. And I couldn’t imagine how much better it’d feel to be even more connected to him. 

 “Maybeeee…?” 

 But then there was last night. 

 I cringed. No matter how with me he’d seemed… he couldn’t have been present after mixing whatever the hell he took and a handle of alcohol. Did I really want someone like that? Someone who could only give a shell of themselves? 

 “No, I wouldn’t. Or- ugh, I don’t know. I don’t know if it could ever mean as much to him.” 

 Renny nodded. “I mean, don’t let him pressure you, obviously. If he does, I’ll kick his baby maker smack into his prostate. Prostate. See, anatomy. You taught me that.” 

 “Haha, no, he’s not like that.” My brows stitched. I was confused why he wasn’t more like that, actually. We’d known each other for several months now and he hadn’t even put a finger in me. When I thought about it, it actually frustrated me. Don’t pressure me to do anything, but I wanted to be pushed to do something. I was never the bold one in areas like this. 

 Not that I should be so willing to do anything with him anymore anyways. Something shifted in me when I’d seen him last night. It wasn’t a shift I could easily describe, but it’d set me a foot apart from my heart. A bit of me was shocked that it had happened so suddenly. 

 But this shift was new, and my heart still wanted what it wanted. I knew that if I watched any more OC Housewives with Harry’s toddler curls and surfer tan, I’d be sucked right back into speculating about what our future kids could look like. And if I saw him? 

 You were right, Harry. You are fucked. 

 I cringed again. That was harsh. That was very very harsh. 

 I didn’t know if I’d have the courage to apologize. What if my pheromones went berserk and magnetized me to his side??

 Renny was right.

 I needed therapy. 

 The clippers were tossed back on my desk.

 “Thanks,” she said. “Have you started on your DG Double P yet?” 

 DG Double P = Renny Speak for DG Pretty Please. 

 I groaned. “No. I don’t know how I’m going to do it, honestly. I have to-”

 “NO!!! Don’t tell me. We’re not supposed to tell each other.” Her hand extended in panic.

 “Fine. I can keep a secret.” 

 I was getting a little too good at that lately.

 She moved onto her belly, splaying her arms out in a dramatic fashion, face squished against the comforter. “Isn’t it just killing you inside.” She was dead serious. 

 “Yeah, more than you know.” 

 And I was serious, too. 

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

 I wasn’t expecting people to dress up as much as they did. Donned in my only pair of yoga pants and a chunky white sweater, I walked arm-in-arm with Renny past girls in cocktail dresses and guys in button-downs. 

 Something that sounded like a baby’s cry filled my ears, but it was gone as soon as we walked through the doors to the on-campus gallery.  . 

 “Woah did you hear that?” 

 Renny nodded, tossing her head back. “There’s a baby somewhere.” 

 It reminded me of the bodiless screams in my nightmare. In my chunky sweater, I shivered undetectably.

 The on-campus gallery rotated exhibits throughout the year, but this time, student sculptures were on pedestals, nightmarish portraits hung on the walls, and red and orange tapestries swooped down and across the ceiling in a cirque-du-soleil moment as if to secure us beneath fire. Some students had separate booths, but other pieces of work trailed seamlessly into the next. 

 A tree made from photographs and newspaper took up the center of the space. Zayn had been so adamant about his muse having life, I wondered if that was the focus of this exhibit - to capture natural life. But I suppose all art did. 

 “It’s the circle of life exhibit,” Renny stated, as if reading my thoughts. 

 “How’d you know that?” 

 She held up a pamphlet she must’ve grabbed from the entrance. 

 I quickly scanned the room, hoping to find Zayn quickly so I could skip out just as quick. 

 Several of my professors were here, including Dr. Rhinecuff. When he saw me, I raised my hand, but he raised his cup of red wine awkwardly and looked away. 

 My hand wavered. 

 Odd. 

 Zayn was standing by the tree, speaking with an older woman. Her skin was a rich brown, short hair hidden beneath a chic scarf. The man beside her looked around the same age with graying facial hair, a pocket hanky, and beaded bracelets. Art professors. 

 I caught his gaze, and he gestured me over. 

 “Y/N, these are my instructors. David and Ebony.”   

 Their eyes lit up in recognition. “He did you a great justice,” David said, gray moustache twitching with the words.

 Ebony beamed. “Oh yes, a piece was already sold. He’s going to be the next big wig before he graduates,” she gushed. “Zayn, I’m sure you’ll be splitting the profits with the heart of the piece.”

 She gestured to me and his smile widened, but my stomach sank faster. 

 “I didn’t know these pieces were going to be sold.”

 Ebony sensed my concern. The wine in her glass swirled. “We thought allowing the pieces to be shown and auctioned was a good way to replicate what many of them should be doing once they graduate. The whole department gets involved, and these kids put in a lot of work, and the reputation of starving artists isn’t something we want to buy into here.”

 I nodded. “I mean, that’s great. That’s… really amazing.” 

 Zayn couldn’t meet my eyes. He knew. He could sense my hesitance, too. 

 “Now he can finally afford a nice dinner to take you out!” David proclaimed. 

 We were all quiet for a minute. “You know, for a thank you dinner,” David covered up. Zayn’s brows scrunched and he shook his head a bit, not knowing where David’s comment came from. 

 “Do you do this regularly?” Ebony asked, steering the conversation away from an awkward moment. 

 My ears pricked up when I realized she was looking at me. “Excuse me?” 

 “Well I was just thinking…” a light laugh lifted as if her idea would be outrageous. “Would you mind sitting in for one of my classes on Monday? Our model had a sudden death-” 

 “My God,” David proclaimed. 

 Ebony waved her hand. “-in his family. I haven’t called to replace him yet.”

 It quieted as they looked at me, waiting for a response. “Oh, I don’t… I don’t usually do this. At all. It was a chance thing.” 

 “Luck be the artist.” David raised his glass. 

 Ebony followed suit, looking at my empty hand. “You just going to let her stand there without a drink?”

 “Yeah, Zayn. What kind of treatment is this?” I teased. 

 He did a slight bow. “Apologies. We’ll walk to drinks, immediately.” He pulled us away, leading us further into the showroom as his head dipped low to my ear. “Renny just passed us to meet Felix and them. They’re through here.” 

 We stepped under an archway that led into a darker-lit room, but his hand stopped me beneath the nook. “Did yeh notice anything?”

 Yeah. I was noticing how close we were in this archway. He saw my eyes start to squint in thought and he turned me around to face the room we’d just left. 

 “Look closer.” 

 My eyes roamed the crowd, trying to find some sort of person, or pattern he could be referring to. With a brief seize of my heart, I expected to see somebody from the gang. 

 “Look at the artwork, Y/N.” His breath warmed my skin. 

 The paintings all seemed to be bright, though sticking to red, orange, blacks, and grays. Wait, forget a pallette pattern. The next painting had blue and purple, too. One sculpture looked like a writhing ghost, twisting and reaching for something above. Or maybe it was an unearthed tree root. Despite all the bold colors, there was something off-putting about how bright they all were. It wasn’t a soothing brightness. It was almost violent. The orange and red writhing tapestries warped the ceiling into something hot. 

 “Is it hell?” I chortled, but quickly quieted. I expected him to take offense, but his hand went lightly around my waist with a small smile.

 “Could be. See-” his arm extended out to scan the perimeter “-all this art is supposed to represent death, but challenge the notion of it through color.” 

 “How so?” 

 “Yeh know it’s usually your blacks, and your grays, s’depressing shit. But we’re born from death. Before life, there was nothing, but something. It’s bold and necessary and there, and no one really knows whatever comes before. Or after.” He looked at the room, taking a sip of wine. I watched as he swallowed, and I imagined the wine running down. “What is death but an uncertain existence.” He said the thought almost happily, looking at me with a slight smirk. “Could be anythin’.” 

 He took a deep breath, letting his hand touch the top of the archway. It was then that I noticed it wasn’t just plain drywall. A collage of photographs ran all along the inside. 

 He wasn’t as tall as Harry, but his hand still reached the top, scuffing across a picture of an African landscape taped over a toddler eating fruity pebbles. 

 “They’re pictures. Everyone donated one,” he said. 

 A strand of words were painted over the collage, running from one end of the archway to the other, and I tilted my head back to read it. “Things... that…. make... m..e …...feel alive.” 

 “Everyone was able to design their space in order to control, to some extent, how their art was perceived. Everyone was a part of the transition space.” 

 “Very nice,” I noted, slightly put-off. I hadn’t been expecting this art show to be so… professional. “Zayn, this is amazing. Like, really, truly, professional-grade stuff is happening. The presentation, the pieces, everything.”

 His smile grew wider, putting cool hands over my eyes. I flinched, but let him. 

 I felt him come closer. 

“Listen now,” he urged. 

 I listened, but I wasn’t sure for what. There was the familiar busy rumble of people mingling, parents visiting their kids, and professors droning on about the talent of their students. But it was chatter. I couldn’t make out one conversation over another. I shrugged up against his other hand that was atop my shoulder. 

 “Sometimes you need to change where you’re planted to understand.” 

 I hoped he could see my cross expression because I couldn’t tell if he was bullshitting me right now. It’d been a day. It’d been a night. And I wasn’t in the mood for more philosophical ramblings - especially about death. “I don’t know what you mean,” I sighed. 

 “Meaning I have to move you closer to the speakers.” He let out a breathy laugh. “Jus’ keep your eyes closed, okay?” 

 I nodded. His hand moved, tilting my head to its side. Eyes still closed, I became self-conscious imagining people trying to move past me, and here I was, planted, eyes closed in the middle of the archway. My cheeks heated. It was unnerving knowing people could see me when I couldn’t see them. And anyway, I must’ve looked ridiculous. 

 “What do you hear?” he urged. 

 “I hear a lot of people talking,” I griped. 

But right when I was about to open my eyes-  

 I heard a familiar chirping through the chatter. 

 “Birds?” I opened my eyes. 

 “Observance can be taught, sometimes.” Zayn leant back, looking mighty proud of himself. 

 “Why are there birds?” 

 “We’re entering life,” he smiled, backing into the space. I tipped my wine back, several long gulps lightening my step as I followed him. Immediately, I noticed much more natural, earthier tones. For being a room of life, it was surprisingly darker than the prior room.

 Renny, Felix, and Andre were huddled in the center where a makeshift wall-on-wheels covered in vines divided the room in half. 

 My eyes widened, trying to adjust to the dimness. “It’s a lot darker in here.” 

 “All intentional. They decided to play with light in here. People usually think of life being bright ‘n that, but it’s also when we experience varying degrees of darkness. There’s a balance to things and the trouble is finding it.” Understanding laced his voice as his dark eyes bore into mine, almost completely black. One look from Zayn and I was reminded of all the weight I’d been carrying. I fidgeted, uncomfortable seeing myself in his eyes. 

 “Y/N, get over here!” Renny called. My shoulders visibly relaxed. My saving grace. “You didn’t tell me you did this,” she said lowly as soon as I got close enough, shocked excitement barely contained. Her giddy smile gave it away though. “Miss sexy secret keeper over here.” 

 “What do you mean?” 

 She playfully poked my sides, but Andre and Felix avoided my gaze. Something wasn’t right. And it stirred my stomach, my body already knowing, somehow. 

 I turned in slow motion, the charcoal drawings in my peripherals stopping me in place. Framed amidst the vines, my face was etched onto paper, scrunching and twisting in various expressions. But my body was attached and twisting, too. And it was bare, bent over, spread out, laying down… My eyes scanned over them a dozen times in a second. 

 I was naked. 

 In all of them. 

 One was titled “21st Century Love.” In this one, I faced the viewer, but looked past them, sorrowful eyes, brows furrowed, breasts I’d never shown on full display. A hickey or two on my neck. A painful sting gripped my chest. I looked sad. I looked so sad.  

 Tunnel vision, a blurred Renny rushed down to the floor, and a distant part of me registered something wet splatter on my feet. 

 The wine had dropped.

 I’d dropped it. 

 I was trapped in a shell. My body was numb. 

 “Babes, you okay?” Renny asked, her voice somewhere far away. Somewhere outside the shell, her voice drowned in the busy rumbling, with the birds, with the watchers. People were watching me now. I was being watched. “Felix, grab some towels!” she barked. 

 I looked horrified, towards Zayn, but changed my mind just as fast. I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t even breathe. 

 He didn’t know me at all. He could stare at me for a thousand sessions and paint every crevice, sunspot, blemish, and mole and still not see me. How was an artist this blind? How could he not know that this was the last thing I could ever want? How could he picture me so… intimately?

 The paintings seemed to swirl into one before bouncing back out into their separate exposees. 

 Because that’s what it was. 

 An exposure. 

 A stranger could pay to have me in their home. 

 The floor spun, vision spotting. 

 My lungs tightened, tearing me away from Renny, from Felix, from Andre. From Zayn, the artist who painted a confused girl so unashamed. So honestly. Savagely and Unabashedly. 

 “I didn’t want this.” 

 And it was when I was halfway out the door that I realized the voice had come from me, a mantra pushing my shell all the way home. 

part 22

[gerrystamour]

the bittersweet between my teeth - Chapter 4

Written by: GerryStAmour | Gift for: @northisnotup​

 Some Important Notes:

The smut is available only on AO3! Link to the AO3 fic in my pinned post!

Nureyev is a gender euphoric trans man who has not had top-surgery and does not wear a binder. I use a mix of masculine and feminine terminology for his anatomy and genitalia, as I do for my own body as a transmasc individual. If this makes you uncomfortable, that is totally understandable, and I recommend skipping the smut.

This chapter is being posted early mostly because Chapters 3 and 4 were originally one whole chapter, which I split in half because of length. So consider this a bit of an Angel of Brahma style release. ;p

I am altering my update schedule for the last time! Please see my pinned post for the new schedule.

I'm working on a two-chapter Epilogue ficlet, which I hope to publish on Sunday, Nov 8, so keep an eye out for that.

Chapter Four [Previous Chapter] [First Chapter]

- - - - - Juno’s POV - - - - -

“My name is Peter Nureyev.”

Juno took in a shaky breath, trying to still his thoughts, which were suddenly racing with this new information.

“... What?” he asked quietly after a few moments, and immediately cringed at the stupid question. Juno knew Rex wasn’t his real name, he knew it all along so this wasn’t a revelation on its own.

Or at least it shouldn’t have been. At some point over their evening together, he had stopped thinking of ‘Rex Glass’ as a fake name, and this knocked Juno off balance. 

But he could handle it, had demanded that information even. If Juno was a bit terrified to look at him though, he didn’t have to admit it.

“My name is Peter Nureyev,” the man underneath him repeated as he took a deep breath. “I’m a thief, and a very good one at that.”

Juno pulled back to look at Peter Nureyev, narrowing his eye at the stoic and hard expression the man wore. The corners of Nureyev’s mouth were tight and angled downward and Juno desperately wanted to kiss that stress away.

“I was hired,” Nureyev continued stiffly, the words sounding dragged out of him, “by a gentleman to regain some property that was taken.”

Ice filled Juno’s veins as he stared at Nureyev, something in his tone tickling the back of his mind. Why would a master thief be interested in him and look so tense as he confessed, he wondered. The answer came to him and felt like someone had punched him in the gut; he was Juno Steel, the one private eye in Hyperion City with a high-profile, nearly botched job on his record.

Humiliation burned in Juno’s gut and his face, and his mind began racing around how he was going to get out of Nureyev’s lap without looking like he was running away.

“Why does he need a thief.” He hadn’t even realized he was talking until the words were hanging in the air between them. It wasn’t a question as much as it was a statement, and the way Nureyev’s expression folded, his lips curving downward and his eyes softening at the corners, was all the confirmation Juno needed. 

But he had to hear him say it. He had to hear the words come from Nureyev.

“No, finish that thought. I want to hear you say it.”

“Juno—”

“Just fucking say it, Diamond!”

Nureyev’s hands twitched where he still held Juno’s wrists, bringing Juno back from his swirling thoughts.

“Juno—” the thief began, and Juno could hear the excuses in his tone already.

“Why does he need a thief, Nureyev? Why didn’t he hire a detective?” Juno demanded, and he can feel himself shaking as well.

“Juno, I want you to know—”

“Just tell me, Nureyev!” Juno hissed through his teeth, and to his dismay tears had sprung to his eyes.

Nureyev licked his lips a bit nervously, and said, “His property was taken by the HCPD in a raid on an associate’s safehouse five years ago.”

Juno had begun laughing bitterly the moment Nureyev had mentioned the HCPD. A hollow, desperate ache settled in his chest, his eyes stinging from the pain. It was stupid to feel so hurt, but it was just the sort of prank whatever higher beings existed would play on him.

“Of fucking course,” Juno bit out, looking up at the ceiling. It was always too good to be true, he knew the other shoe would drop eventually, knew there was no reason someone as gorgeous and mysterious as Nureyev would even look twice at him if they didn’t have ulterior motives.

“That’s why you’re here. I knew it the moment I saw you at Hyperion Brewing, but I talked myself out of it. But that’s why you’re here,” Juno finally admitted to himself with a scoff, getting increasingly angry at himself for being so goddamn stupid. “You really know how to pick ‘em, Steel.”

“That isn’t why I’m here right now, nor why I’ve been seeing you,” Nureyev insisted, his voice pleading as Juno began to pull back. He let go of Juno’s wrists to gently hold his face. “Juno, please, believe that this is real—”

“Get your goddamn hands off me!” Juno snarled, jolting away from the touch as if he had been burned. Nureyev’s hands immediately fell away from Juno’s face, and he sat completely still while Juno climbed off his lap.

Juno could feel his hot blush as his dress fell open before he was able to catch it. He couldn’t even remember when the belt had been taken off, which just served to embarrass him even further.

“Juno, please listen—”

“If you say any of that ‘this is real’ bullshit, I will walk out right now, Nureyev,” Juno growled, and Nureyev’s mouth snapped shut. 

They were quiet for a few moments while Juno located his belt and struggled to cinch it around his waist. His eyes were burning, his already limited vision blurry with his tears.

“No, you only started sniffing around me after that day at Hyperion Brewing. You’re just sticking around for information, or to spy on me, or whatever, so none of this is real!” Juno said bitterly, his hands shaking so badly he almost dropped his belt.

“I have never even come close to pressing for details about the job!” Nureyev defended himself, his tone annoyed. “All evening, I could have asked you about your eye, or your scars, under the guise of getting to know you, but I didn’t.”

Ice flooded his veins as Juno finally got the belt done up, the mention of his eye and his scars almost more painful than everything else. Of course Nureyev would have noticed, and he likely thought they were hideous just as everyone else did. But Juno was useful, Juno might have had information, so Nureyev was willing to tolerate him.

For a moment, all Juno could think about was Diamond pointing out his eyepatch constantly, the persistent suggestions to get a prosthetic eye and cosmetic surgery to clean up the scars. He was back in that apartment, after a year of surgeries and physical therapy, pleading with Diamond to understand just how much he didn’t want to go under again. 

The humiliation of begging his fiance to still love him flared in him.

The moment Juno lost any semblance of usefulness, the disgust for his eye jumped to the forefront. It was the same sad story, one that Juno thought he was used to, but it hurt so much more with Nureyev.

“Oh, should I thank you then?” Juno asked, laughing bitterly. “Thanks for not asking about my worst job, my biggest goddamn failure, and amateur eye-surgery when you could have?”

“You know that’s not what I meant, Juno—” Nureyev said, sounding frustrated.

“Do I?” Juno countered, and that seemed to give Nureyev pause. When the thief opened his mouth to refute, Juno shook his head. “There’s something called ‘the long game’, Nureyev. You not asking me tonight means nothing.”

Nureyev wisely kept his mouth shut and Juno had to look away. He looked miserable sitting there on the bed, his expression deeply sad with his mouth, jaw, and throat smudged with Juno’s dark lipstick. There was a twist in his gut that felt like doubt, and for a moment Juno wanted to crawl back into his lap and kiss him, to take back his angry words and resume the perfect evening.

Shaking himself, Juno remembered the months of fear, of keeping his head down and his mouth shut, of trying to hold everything together. Then Nureyev had the nerve to seduce him when he worked for the person who was responsible for all of that.

“I actually thought the Piranha was done having her lackeys follow me,” Juno laughed. “This is really cruel though, even for her.

“Juno, I’m no one’s ‘lackey’,” Nureyev said pleadingly, shaking his head. “I was interested in you before I knew you were involved—”

“And after?” Juno interrupted, crossing his arms tightly.

Nureyev looked up at him, confused and thrown off guard by the question. “After what?” he asked eventually, quiet and unsure.

“After you found out, Nureyev. When you found out, you kept coming, you made me—” ‘fall for you’ Juno thought, and just barely managed to stop himself. Taking a deep breath, Juno started over, his voice low with his anger. “When you found out who I was, how close I was to this, why did you keep coming around?”

Nureyev took a deep breath, and said, “I was immediately taken with you from the moment I saw you—”

“Come off it, Nureyev,” Juno scoffed, rolling his eyes even as butterflies swarmed his guts. “You expect me to believe that?”

“I don’t ‘expect’ anything from you, Juno,” Nureyev said flatly, and that annoyance was back in his voice. “Except perhaps that you allow me to answer the questions you ask me.”

Juno huffed a loud breath and looked away. He wasn’t keen on admitting that Nureyev had a bit of a point.

“I saw you at the restaurant, and I was drawn to you, and I can’t explain why. You were handsome, and the way you looked at me… I was intrigued,” Nureyev explained haltingly and shrugged. “I found out your name from the owner. I didn’t know your connection to my job at the time.”

“Why would you be so interested in a complete stranger?” Juno asked incredulously.

“I don’t know, Juno!” Nureyev burst out, and he ran his hands back through his long hair. “I don’t normally let a pretty face capture my attention or distract me from a job! Remember, I’m a very good thief, which makes falling in love with part-time private eyes incredibly inconvenient.”

Juno’s insides froze as he said that, searching Nureyev’s face for a lie, especially surrounding the word ‘love’. Nureyev looked honest, his expression open and earnest for Juno to read, which was somehow the scariest thing in that moment.

But that wasn’t how the world worked, he thought bitterly. That man, the thief, came into his life— only occupying space in it for two weeks— and he was already making claims or allusions to feelings a partner of over a decade didn’t even have. It was impossible, and he would have to be pretty stupid to believe it.

“So ‘love at first sight’. That is what you’re trying to sell me?” Juno asked mockingly, emulating some of Benten’s sharp tone.

Nureyev’s jaw visibly twitched and a dark blush overcame his features. He was clearly getting frustrated with the conversation, and Juno prepared himself for anger, for the admission of his guilt.

“I’m not trying to sell you anything, least of all something so fanciful,” Nureyev finally replied, and his voice was softer than his intense gaze let on. “But I do care deeply for you now. Your ‘buying it’ has no bearing on the truth of it.”

Juno ground his teeth viciously, anger flashing through him that the thief would continue the act. That he wouldn’t just cut it out and admit it.

“So you were curious, we’ll go with that. Any smart criminal would find out that the tail they’re chasing is a part-time private eye and run the other way,” Juno said. “But you kept coming around, getting closer to me. Why?”

“I was selfish,” Nureyev admitted after a steadying breath through his nose. “I didn’t want to leave without seeing you.”

“So, you played with my feelings?”

“I did not play with your feelings, Juno,” Nureyev replied earnestly, almost desperately. “But when it became obvious you reciprocated, I couldn’t hurt you by just disappearing.”

Juno laughed loudly at that. “And this is better?” he asked coldly, and Nureyev’s expression crumpled under it.

Juno wanted to stop, to shut his mouth and leave. He wanted so badly to just go home, crawl into his bed and hide.

“That job, Piranha and whoever she works for, ruined my life, Nureyev. The people you’re working for destroyed everything, and you come along and just—” Juno interrupts himself with a watery, harsh laugh, shaking his head. “You should’ve just left, Nureyev. I have plenty of experience with that. I would’ve survived.”

Juno immediately regretted the words the moment he said them, especially with the way Nureyev’s expression went slack and his eyes glassy with unshed tears.

“Your piss-poor attitude was only cute when you looked like—”

Juno opened his mouth to take it back but Nureyev just cleared his throat and stood, towering over him once again.

“Of course,” he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. “As I said, it was selfish.”

Juno pinched the bridge of his nose as Nureyev left the bedroom to sit at the desk in the living room. 

“Nureyev, listen, I didn’t mean—” Juno began as he followed Nureyev, watching as the man opened his laptop.

“No, you were right, Juno. I should have left you alone from the beginning,” Nureyev insisted. “This was foolish on my part.”

Juno felt his anger and hurt wane as he watched Nureyev. There was nothing too obvious to let on to his emotions, but there was the slightest slump to his usually perfect posture, which only served to break Juno’s heart further.

When Juno properly paid attention to what Nureyev was doing, he realized he was looking at surveillance feeds. “What are you doing?” he asked, his brow furrowed.

“Deleting any surveillance video with my face, and also your arrival at the hotel,” he answered quietly, not even looking away from the monitor.

“You’ve been doing this every night?” That bloom of doubt was back, and Juno hated it.

“Yes, which has been getting exhausting. I’ve put off finishing this for too long,” Nureyev sighed. “I’ve been reckless, and it’s only a matter of time before I make a mistake if I haven’t already.”

Juno immediately recognised that fact, and the rest of his anger left him so suddenly he felt dizzy. “Why would you risk so much?”

Nureyev did not even pause in his work on the laptop as he smiled sadly and replied, “I’m sure you can divine my reasons from my previous statements, dear detective. You’re very clever.”

Juno felt his face heat up at the praise and felt annoyed at himself all over again. He was making himself the easiest mark ever for people like Nureyev.

Then the thief’s fingers faltered in their typing and he tipped his head thoughtfully. “What did you mean by ‘amateur eye surgery’?” Nureyev asked. “Or ‘the Piranha’ for that matter?”

Juno raised an eyebrow when Nureyev turned to look at him. “You haven’t met your employer’s pet thug?” he asked sceptically. “She’s a real piece of work, you know? Sadistic, and I mean, I go for a little pain—”

“Juno,” Nureyev interrupted softly, and snapped him out of his sarcastic tirade.

“Fine. She’s really ugly, missing an ear, tons of scars? Her teeth are all sharp—” Juno began, but he stopped abruptly as his heart rate picked up just thinking about her.

“She has an underbite?” Nureyev supplied and Juno nodded gratefully.

“That’s the one. I call her the Piranha. Didn’t really catch a name between her stun blast and…” Juno said, trailing off to gesture at his eye. At Nureyev’s blank look, he shifted on his feet uncomfortably. “C’mon Nureyev, you knew I lost my eye during that job. You said it yourself.”

Nureyev turned back to the laptop and clicked the keyboard a few more times before slowly shutting it. “I was under the impression— no, told your eye had been an injury sustained in an altercation,” Nureyev replied when he turned to meet Juno’s gaze again. “An accident.”

Juno frowned with a sceptical snort. “I mean, if torture falls under the ‘altercation’ umbrella, then yeah. But it wasn’t an accident.”

It was obvious that several pieces of information were clicking into place for Nureyev if his narrowed eyes were anything to go by. “Either my employer is unaware of this ‘Piranha’s’ true actions that day, or he lied to me,” Nureyev finally said after a moment, sucking his teeth a bit before saying, “I’m not sure which is worse.”

“Normally, I would say he lied to you. But she worked overtime to keep my mouth shut, so,” Juno said, trailing off with a shrug. The distinct feeling of panic overcame him, and he tried to calm himself down.

“What do you mean, Juno?” Nureyev asked, and his voice was so gentle, it made Juno want so much. He wanted to be held again, he wanted to crawl into bed and have strong arms wrapped around him tightly, he wanted Nureyev to kiss him again, if only to remind him that he was sitting in a hotel room and not in that dark, terrible cellar.

“She said whoever she worked for wouldn’t be happy if I died,” he replied, his words stilted as he said them. “Didn’t stop her from carving up my eye and stalking my loved ones, but hey. I survived.”

Juno sat heavily in the armchair near the desk, pinching the bridge of his nose. When he looked up again, he saw that Nureyev had turned to fully face him, waiting patiently for him to continue.

“When I was in the hospital, one of her goons came by and dropped an entire folder of pictures of Benten and Rita in my lap. Nothing else, just that. The asshole didn’t even say anything,” he said, his voice breaking a bit and his face felt hot as tears stung his eyes again. “She had me followed for months, and every couple of weeks a new goon would hand me a new folder full of new pictures.”

“Juno—” Nureyev began, lifting his hand as if to reach for Juno’s, but appeared to think better of it. Juno wished Nureyev had followed through, which he knew was ridiculous after the scene he had been making, so he shook it off with a deep breath.

“The worst was—” Juno choked on the words for a moment, the fear gripping him. “The worst was a picture of Benten. It was taken from inside his apartment. It was some guy Benten had brought home, someone he met at a bar. But the message was loud and clear.”

“Juno…” Nureyev murmured sadly, but said nothing else.

“So, I kept my mouth shut, accepted the pictures, confirmed that I understood, and kept my head down for months,” he finished explaining, shrugging a bit.

Nureyev was silent, watching his face with an unreadable expression.

“Fuck, all of that, and for nothing. Just to get dragged back into it all,” Juno muttered as an aside to himself. With a disgusted noise, Juno met Nureyev’s eyes. “Who’s your employer anyway? I know it’s one of Pereyra’s opponents, but I never found out who.”

“Ramses O’Flaherty,” Nureyev responded without hesitation and was startled at Juno’s bark of laughter.

“O’Flaherty? Bullshit,” Juno said with an eye-roll.

“I assure you, dear detective. It is Ramses O’Flaherty who is signing my paycheque,” Nureyev replied, a bit confused.

“But that makes no sense,” Juno argued, his incredulity almost palpable. “His political ads, his speeches, hell, his entire platform is built on being anti-crime and anti-cop! The Piranha and the crap I found at her safehouse are the complete opposite.”

Nureyev’s curiosity was piqued at that. “You saw what was in the cases?”

“Yeah?” Juno replied, a bit confused. “O’Flaherty didn’t tell you what was in them?”

“He was insistent that I refrain from looking,” Nureyev replied thoughtfully. “He was also going on about the Greater Good, though I had stopped listening at that point.”

“Yeah, that does sound like O’Flaherty,” Juno sighed. “The one case had a little chip in it. Something called the THEIA something or whatever. The other stuff was some tech, looked like drones with a ton of firepower. The inscription said they were—”

Juno cut himself off to think back, trying to remember the inscriptions and what they said. He jolted when he remembered that the items were from New Kinshasa, and they all were marked with G.A.S. preceding a series of numbers.

“Juno?” Nureyev prompted him gently, his voice filled with concern.

“The tech was from New Kinshasa,” Juno started cautiously, sucking in a deep breath when Nureyev tensed. “Some… hyper-mobile update to their Guardian Angel System.”

All of the colour left Nureyev’s face as he asked quietly, “... What?” Juno could see in Nureyev’s eyes that he was living a waking nightmare, and he wanted to stop the entire conversation and hold him.

“Back then, I sent Rita a picture of the stuff and had her look it up. Turns out, about twenty years ago, New Kinshasa started pouring a ton of money into R&D,” Juno explained instead. “I guess some radicals almost destroyed the whole city, so they wanted something that wouldn’t be so easy to take down.”

“And how did O’Flaherty come into possession of this?” Nureyev asked, his voice shaking with barely concealed anger. Juno could understand that feeling.

“Well, with the end of the war and Brahma joining the Solar government, they needed money,” Juno replied with an angry laugh. “They started selling units to interested parties to test the whole thing. Nothing says ‘peace’ like a government institution selling weapons to private investors.”

Nureyev smirked at the sarcasm, but his voice was tight as he asked, “And what did you learn about these radicals?”

“Not much,” he replied with a shrug, and is startled a bit by the sharp look Nureyev gives him. “I mean, Rita probably knew more at the time, but then she went off about some betrayal plot on one of her streams.”

“But after the case—”

“Nureyev, everyone I loved was being threatened after the case,” Juno reminded him. “I told Rita to get rid of all that info she dug up after the first goon threatened me in the hospital.”

Nureyev nodded woodenly, his eyes distant as he apparently stared at Juno’s knees.

“You okay, Nureyev?” Juno asked, and it came out far more tenderly than he wanted it to be, but he couldn’t help it.

Nureyev snapped out of his thoughts and met Juno’s gaze again with a distracted, “Hm?”

“You went somewhere far away,” Juno said, and he wanted to hold Nureyev’s hand, to bring him back and soothe that troubled expression from his face.

Nureyev watched Juno as well, obviously debating something behind his bright eyes. Something shifted in Nureyev’s expression, something sharp and dangerous, and Juno felt his breath catch in his throat.

“I’m planning to steal the weapons and have them destroyed,” Nureyev said firmly. “They shouldn’t be in anyone’s hands.”

“Glad to hear it,” Juno said, aiming for sarcastic, but it came out sincerely pleased. “I mean, I figured, because I know, roughly, what happens on Brahma, but—”

“I was one of the so-called ‘radicals’. Twenty years ago, with my mentor,” Nureyev confessed, the words rushed and hitting Juno hard in the chest. “We were hardly radicals, honestly. We were thieves, stealing the core to the Guardian Angel System.”

“But… Rita told me the same core that powered the weapon—”

“Also powered the levitation system for the city, yes. My mentor misled me about the job, and when I found out the city would be destroyed, I tried to reason with him. Or stop him. I was…” Nureyev trailed off, looking haunted before he snapped himself out of it. “It doesn’t matter. When he refused to stop, I— I killed him.”

“Nureyev…” Juno started, but he had nothing he could say to that.

Looking at the thief now, Juno realized how young Nureyev would have been when that all happened. It made Juno’s heart ache for Nureyev, and then he remembered what Nureyev had said over dinner. His mentor had saved him from the streets, and later he felt he had to kill the man to save a whole city.

“I don’t regret it. I couldn’t see the justification in destroying an entire city, and I still can’t,” Nureyev said after a few moments, his tone clipped and rehearsed. It sounded defensive, like something the thief repeated to himself daily. It was the first thing Nureyev had said that felt like a lie the whole evening, but Juno knew it wasn’t a lie for him. “He was wrong, and I couldn’t let him leave with the core.”

Juno wanted to leave it there, but he never could stop asking questions. “Then why does it look like you regret it?”

Nureyev’s features closed up, like shutters being pulled. “Is that relevant right now?” he asked curtly.

Juno watched him, a sadness for Nureyev so deep in his heart he felt close to crying, and his anger from earlier was all but forgotten. Eventually, he shook his head with a heavy sigh.

“No, I guess it’s not, you’re right,” he said before he added a bit awkwardly, “Thanks for… telling me, I guess. You didn’t have to.”

Nureyev shook himself a bit, straightening his posture, and raised an eyebrow. “My name is attached to that job, so the moment you would’ve had Rita look me up, you would have known. She likely already knows my name without realizing it.”

Juno was quiet for several long moments, rolling Nureyev’s words around in his head. That was all true, and he was sure Rita would have pulled up any information on him that she wanted. Hell, there was probably information out there Nureyev thought was completely hidden, but Rita could find. 

“I wanted to hear what stories you have in your own words…”

He bit the inside of his cheek thoughtfully as he remembered Nureyev’s words from dinner.

“I wasn’t going to ‘look you up’,” he finally said.

Nureyev looked visibly shocked, and then sceptical. “And why not?”

Juno shrugged with a sad chuckle. “Why didn’t you look me up?” he countered.

It was almost funny enough for Juno to laugh when realization dawned on Nureyev, his eyes widening with a soft “oh” as he looked down at his hands in his lap.

The conversation had gotten too emotional, too vulnerable for Juno to handle at the moment, so he changed the subject. “So what’s the plan? What are we doing?”

Nureyev met his gaze again, deeply concerned. “We?” he asked.

“Yeah, ‘we’. You and I both want those weapons destroyed,” Juno replied firmly. “I want to stop Pilot and Ramses, and you brought me back into this mess whether you meant to or not. I’m coming with you, and you’re not going to stop me.”

Nureyev made a small noise and shook his head. “But Juno, your eye—”

“—Isn’t coming back any time soon! And hey, I figure I owe it some payback anyway,” Juno interrupted with a shrug, his tone flippant and deliberately infuriating.

Nureyev was flustered, visibly stressed at the thought of Juno joining him. Juno would have found it cute, even flattering, if he wasn’t still coming down from his hurt and anger.

“Juno, I can’t— it’s dangerous—” Nureyev started again and Juno laughed a bit.

“I’m a private eye, Nureyev. ‘Danger’ is in the job description,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Give me a real reason.”

Nureyev paused for a long time before leaning forward to gently, tentatively touch the back of Juno’s hand. Without hesitation, Juno turns his hand and allows Nureyev to hold it.

“I don’t want to see you get hurt by them again,” Nureyev confessed very quietly, barely loud enough for Juno to hear.

Juno felt his heart flip several times, his breath leaving him in a short whoosh, and he had to fight to be annoyed at the coddling. “I can handle myself, Nureyev,” he snapped with a pout, though it held no heat.

“Oh, I know, my dear detective. I would never doubt your resilience,” Nureyev said with a small laugh, reaching up with his other hand to cup Juno’s cheek. His expression turned so soft and earnest, Juno felt overwhelmed with his want for that gentle concern. “I only wish you knew you didn’t always have to. You could just let me do this and be done with it entirely.”

For a moment, Juno very nearly gave in to that soft request, to let Nureyev take care of him, of their combined mess, but that was just not possible for him. 

“You don’t seem to get it,” Juno said with a shake of his head. “This is my problem, my screw-up, my responsibility. Plus, you got me involved again.”

Nureyev stroked the back of Juno’s hand and cheek with his thumbs thoughtfully, and the sensation of the smooth leather of his gloves sent shivers up Juno’s spine. “Fair enough,” he said eventually, nodding. “Just know that I’m not used to working with someone else.”

The two of them spent the better part of an hour going over Nureyev’s existing plans for the heist, working Juno into them and reworking the parts that wouldn’t work with two people. The plan had been brilliant to start with, and Juno almost felt bad about coming in with a sledgehammer. However, when all was said and done, Juno was legitimately confident in the new plan.

That— being confident in the plan— was enough to plant a seedling of doubt in his gut. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he heard Benten calling him ‘Lady Raincloud’ and dismissed his nerves. He and Nureyev were both professionals in their own ways, and they could handle an in-and-out job.

Juno was standing at the desk next to where Nureyev sat, bent at the waist and propped on one hand, idly chewing on his thumbnail while he stared at the laptop screen. “I can have Rita look into finding a different way in, but the sewer is really our best bet. And maybe a better way to deal with the security cameras,” he murmured, mostly to himself but Nureyev hummed his agreement. “I’m not liking how tight that window is.”

If Nureyev was uncomfortable involving Rita, he didn’t say anything.

“So,” Juno said slowly, looking at Nureyev. “Two nights from now?”

“That should give us enough time to collect what intel we need,” Nureyev confirmed, before looking up at him and slyly adding with a smirk, “It also gives me at least twenty-four more hours to convince you to stay out of it.”

Juno smirked right back. “Don’t count on it.”

A moment of absolute silence stretched between them as they looked at each other, and slowly Nureyev’s smirk softened to something fond. Juno jumped a bit as gloved fingers slid gently against the outside of his bare thigh before he shivered. With a shaky sigh, Juno leaned into the contact.

“Juno, I—” Nureyev started hesitantly before taking a deep breath. “I want you to know that I care very deeply for you, and that I never thought of you as a mark, that— I meant everything I’ve said and more.”

“I know,” Juno said in a quiet voice, and he was surprised by himself. The sincerity in Nureyev’s eyes was overwhelming, and enough to break through his usual cloud of doubt for the moment.

“The true depths of my— my feelings are unknown even to me,” Nureyev continued earnestly, apparently on a roll. “They terrify me, Juno. Whenever I try to understand them, and the thought of leaving after all this…”

Juno stood back up to his full height and turned toward Nureyev, holding his face in his hands. When Nureyev allowed his eyes to flutter shut, Juno released a shuddering breath. “You don’t have to go,” Juno whispered, surprising himself yet again with his soft begging.

What right did he have asking that of Nureyev?

Nureyev’s face twisted sadly, and his lashes looked a bit wet. “Juno, please—”

“You can stay,” Juno pushed, talking over Nureyev desperately. “Rita can clear any record you have, set you up with everything you need, I have connections—”

“Juno, stop, please,” Nureyev pleaded, his voice so soft Juno’s heart ached. When Nureyev opened his eyes again to look up at him, his eyes glassy. “You know I can’t stay, even if I wanted to give everything up. I do not want to retire, and I cannot stay on Mars, my love.”

Juno closed his eyes and nodded, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “I know,” he replied.

Nureyev took a deep breath and Juno could feel him shaking nervously. “Would you come with me?” he asked, in a voice so fragile Juno held completely still lest he break something. The question hit him like a solid punch to his gut, and for a few wild seconds the ‘yes’ was on the tip of his tongue.

But then he thought of Benten, and Rita, and where would they fit in his brave new future with Nureyev? A man he knew for all of two weeks? It was absurd.

“I’m sorry,” Juno whispers, his voice barely audible, even to himself. “Nureyev, I—”

“Hush, dear detective,” Nureyev said soothingly, lifting a hand to gently hold one of Juno’s wrists, the other still stroking his thigh. The contact is chaste, but it was intimate beyond anything Juno had ever experienced, even with Diamond. Now that he was looking down at Nureyev, seeing him with his hair loose, heart open, and Juno’s lipstick still smeared in places, Juno felt heat returning to his gut.

“I… I would like to spend whatever time we have left together, however you wish,” Nureyev said, his eyes soft and wet with emotion. “I will understand, however, if you wouldn’t want that.”

Juno sucked in a slow breath, shaky as it was with his conflicting thoughts. He was still upset, still angry, and normally he would have made someone who made him that angry work to get his favour back. But Nureyev didn’t have that sort of time— they didn’t have that sort of time. Here in this hotel room was possibly the last time they would be together like this, and there was the entire possibility that one or both of them would be killed in two days.

So Juno stepped closer to Nureyev, bracketing one of his knees with his legs so he could stand flush to Nureyev’s body. Nureyev tipped his head back obligingly, with his eyes half-lidded and lips parted. Without hesitation, Juno dipped his head and kissed Nureyev, soft and sweet, swallowing the quiet sound of surprise the thief made.

Nureyev immediately wrapped an arm around his waist, his strength surprising given how thin his arm felt, and his hand twisted in the fabric of Juno’s dress. The hand on his thigh squeezed with sudden bruising strength as Nureyev deepened the kiss, Juno meeting him halfway with his tongue.

Juno had tangled his hands in Nureyev’s hair once again, twisting in the length of it and holding him in place, whining petulantly when Nureyev began to pull back. 

“Juno, wait—” Nureyev began, their mouths still together and panting. Even as he was trying to talk, Nureyev was pressing small kisses on and around Juno’s lips.

“Nureyev, c’mon,” he managed to mumble through their needy kisses.

Nureyev slid his hand further up Juno’s thigh, slipping under the straps of the flower harness he wore and nearly grabbing his ass. The straps pulled tight against the soft flesh of Juno’s thigh, pulling a desperate gasp from him. At that, Nureyev pulled away from the kiss completely, meeting Juno’s eye. He was panting already, and Juno quite liked the image he made, dishevelled as he was with hair a mess and dark red lipstick smeared over his lips.

“Juno, I don’t want to do anything that will hurt you,” Nureyev said, and Juno could tell he meant it. That doesn’t mean he didn’t try to laugh it off.

“I like a little pain, don’t worry about that, Nureyev,” he said with a smirk. “My safe word is—”

“Juno, I’m being serious!” Nureyev snapped lightly, though interestingly enough there was some legitimate interest in his expression.

Juno sighed and stooped to kiss Nureyev again, sweet and chaste, and he hoped it was full of everything he was feeling. Words were hard at the best of times, but especially when things were intense. Juno had always been better with his actions, or at least he liked to think he was. And right then he just wanted so much, so deeply, he could hardly breathe with it.

“Nureyev, I want this, I wouldn’t start it if I didn’t. And yeah, I’m still pissed at you, and yeah it’s going to hurt like hell when you leave,” Juno finally said, leaning his forehead against Nureyev’s. “But that’s at least two days away, and I just want to… have this while I can. If you don’t want to after all, I get it. I’ll go home and see you tomorrow at the cafe.”

“Are you sure?” Nureyev asked.

“Nureyev, I’m sure,” Jun replied impatiently.

Nureyev’s lips spread into a shit-eating grin. “Absolutely positive?”

“Knock it off, Nureyev,” Juno growled, moaning softly into a kiss that suddenly captured his lips.

Nureyev smiled warmly up at him when he pulled back. “Just need to hear you say it,” he sighed, and Juno rolled his eyes.

“Glad we cleared that up, then, now can we—”

Juno let out a squeak of surprise when Nureyev stood up, the arm around his back and gloved hand on his thigh steadying him. His mouth was seized in a hungry kiss, the pressure rough and full of teeth, as he was half-walked, half-carried the handful of steps back into the bedroom.

Nureyev let him go once they reached the edge of the bed to work on Juno’s belt. He hadn’t done it up quite right when he put it back on earlier, so Nureyev did have to pull away from the kiss with a laugh to undo it properly. Juno grinned up at him like a dope at the laugh, and accepted the kiss that was dropped to his mouth once the belt fell away and the drape of the gown fell open again.

Juno tried to think about it as a fling, that he wasn’t impossibly far gone on Nureyev already, that his laugh didn’t fill him with so much light he feared he might burst from it.

Nureyev reached up to gently touch Juno’s eyepatch in silent question, and panic flooded his veins with ice. He wasn’t ready for Nureyev to see his eye just yet, not ready for him to look at him with disgust or pity or that terrible combination of both.

When Juno jerkily shook his head, Nureyev smiled gently and backed off without question.

“Now how does the rest of this come off, love?” he asked, tugging at Juno’s dress a bit.

Juno’s relief was so overwhelming, he almost had to sit down. Instead, he huffed out a soft laugh and dragged Nureyev back down into a needy kiss, happily swallowing his soft sound of surprise.

- - - - -

Juno dozed a bit after his athletic evening with Nureyev. He had closed his eyes while Nureyev got up to get a washcloth, and truthfully hadn’t tried too hard to stay awake.

However, he must have slept deeper and longer than he had meant to. When Juno opened his eyes again, he found that he was cleaned up and tucked in under the duvet. Juno sighed contentedly as he registered the warm, naked body he was cuddled up against, a strong lean arm wrapped loosely around his shoulder. Nureyev’s long, slender fingers traced little symbols into the skin on the cap of Juno’s shoulder, the sensation ticklish but pleasant. Juno shifted so his legs were tangled with Nureyev’s, sighing when the arm around him held him tighter.

With a hum, Juno wrapped an arm around Nureyev’s waist and pressed a lazy kiss to his chest where his head rested. He didn’t move away immediately, instead inhaling a deep breath through his nose. Juno’s head swam with the scent of Nureyev’s cologne, the smell of it somehow stronger with the musk of sweat and sex in the air.

Juno couldn’t help the little groan he made as he adjusted himself on top of Nureyev. When Juno nuzzled his nose against the skin of his throat, Nureyev made a small, happy sound and Juno grinned tiredly.

He never wanted to leave that bed, a realization that sunk heavily in his gut.

“That was amazing,” Nureyev said around a huge yawn, sounding perfectly blissed-out and sated.

Juno snorted, even as tears gathered in his eyes again. ‘Amazing’ was an understatement, which was a problem for Juno. Part of him had hoped sex with Nureyev would have been boring, or even bad, so it would have been easier for when Nureyev had to leave him. But of course, it hadn’t been; it was amazing, like nothing else Juno had ever had with another person.

Things could never be easy for Juno Steel.

“Yeah,” Juno sighed, closing his eyes. “It was.”

They laid together in comfortable silence, and Juno began dozing again as Nureyev scratched his back lightly. His eyepatch was getting uncomfortable, and he began debating taking it off. Maybe it would be okay. Nureyev was different, Juno was sure of it. Panic kicked up his heart rate, and the thought of testing that after something so perfect was nauseating.

“Juno? Are you awake?” Nureyev asked hesitantly, snapping Juno out of his spiralling thoughts. With a relieved sigh, Juno tilted his head up to look at Nureyev’s face.

“What’s up?” Juno asked, his voice laced with exhaustion. Before he could think about it or stop himself, he kissed Nureyev’s shoulder gently before propping himself on an elbow to better meet his gaze.

Nureyev was smiling at him, his eyes half-lidded and bright even in the low lighting. He looked so warm and perfect with his long hair loose around his face and shoulders. Lipstick still stained his mouth, jaw, and throat, tempting Juno to retrace his steps.

When Nureyev lifted his hand to cup his cheek, Juno turned his head to kiss his palm, closing his eyes and breathing  that intoxicating scent in again. 

“Oh, love,” Nureyev whispered, sliding his hand back to pull Juno into a slow, languid kiss. Juno sighed into it and pouted a bit when the thief ended it. “You’re making this very difficult.”

“You chose me, so that’s what you get,” Juno said cheekily, but was very aware that Nureyev had something serious on his mind.

“You asked me earlier why I—” Nureyev began hesitantly, his voice strained until he cleared his throat. “You asked earlier why I appeared to regret killing my… mentor, Mag.”

“Yeah, but you don’t actually have to answer that,” Juno replied. Curiosity burned in his gut, but the warm flush had left Nureyev’s face, and Juno could feel how tense he was. “I shouldn’t have asked that.”

“I want to answer it. Or I at least want you to know,” Nureyev insisted, pushing himself up to recline against the pillows more upright. “After all of that, you should know.”

“I mean, if it’s that important to you, go ahead,” Juno replied, shifting to straddle Nureyev’s lap and meet his gaze easily. Nureyev smiled gently at him before leaning in for a lingering kiss. When he pulled back, he took a deep, fortifying breath.

“He was going to kill a city of innocent people, so I knew I had to stop him. But when my knife sank into his back…” Nureyev trailed off, closing his eyes as he worked through something in his head, Without thinking, Juno reached up to tuck some of Nureyev’s hair behind his ear.

“I wasn’t sure if I did it to stop him, and that there truly was no other way to do so,” Nureyev continued after a few quiet moments, “Or if I only did it because he lied.”

Juno took a deep breath and nodded, unsure of what to do with a confession like that. “About the Guardian Angel System?” he asked to clarify his meaning.

Nureyev shook his head with a soft, bitter laugh. “It would have been easier if that was his biggest lie,” Nureyev replied. “But he lied about my father.”

Juno waited for Nureyev, watching his face as he thought about his next words. It hit him suddenly that Nureyev likely hadn’t said any of this out loud to anyone before, that Juno was the first to hear this particular dark corner of Nureyev’s history.

Something small, yet terrifying fluttered to life in the back of Juno’s mind, which he quickly squashed.

“He saved me from the streets, raised me, taught me everything I know now, all while he fed me this elaborate tale about a father who was a martyr for the cause,” Nureyev continued, and he couldn’t meet Juno’s gaze anymore. “I built my entire identity around my name, that idea, that story. I wanted so badly to live up to my father’s legacy, to make everyone proud of me the way he did.”

“But it was a lie,” Juno finished for him, his breath leaving him in a whoosh at the thought of being lied to like that. Sure, Diamond’s deception had hurt, but that was so small and petty compared to what Nureyev was telling him.

“I was so confused and lost after I killed him, and I just stopped thinking about it. Filed it away and moved on,” Nureyev said with a sigh, rolling his eyes at himself. “I was just afraid of what it would make me if I only killed him for lying.”

Juno frowned as Nureyev finished, opening his mouth to say something, but thought better of it. He wasn’t sure how much Nureyev would appreciate his lame insights, so instead he stretched upward to place a soft kiss to the corner of Nureyev’s mouth. Nureyev immediately tilted his head to accept the kiss with his lips, even as his brow furrowed in confusion and shock.

Juno pulled away and settled back against Nureyev, dropping his head onto his chest to doze off again.

“That makes sense,” he said softly, listening to the frantic heartbeat under his ear.

Nureyev was quiet for a while before he asked, “That’s all? Just ‘that makes sense’?”

Juno shrugged, suddenly concerned he had read the entire conversation wrong. “I mean, thanks… for telling me? You didn’t have to?” Juno said awkwardly, cringing at himself.

“Juno, please look at me,” Nureyev requested, and that was the last thing on the planet Juno wanted to do.

Nonetheless, Juno sat up again and met his gaze, biting the inside of his cheek. Nureyev’s eyes were wet with unshed tears, and confusion was written across his face.

“I just told you I murdered someone I considered a parent, and you… don’t care?” he asked, his voice weak with his uncertainty.

“I care, Nureyev, but I just…” As always, Juno struggled for the right words at the worst time, letting out a frustrated huff. “I care about you. And, I don’t know, the problem or moral dilemma you’re having with it makes sense. I guess I would be worried if you weren’t torn up about it. But you did it twenty years ago and saved an entire city. If you want me to hold it against you now, you’re out of luck.”

Nureyev looked baffled before he reached up to pull Juno down into a deep, but chaste kiss. When Juno moaned softly and opened up for him, the thief sighed.

When Juno pulled back, Nureyev was smiling so softly up at him, it broke his heart.

“Stay the night?” Nureyev asked quietly.

Juno wanted nothing more than to say yes, to say that he would stay forever if Nureyev would simply ask. He thought about everything Nureyev had told him, how open he had been, and suddenly Juno wanted to tell Nureyev about Diamond. He wanted to lay in that bed and whisper confessions, and kiss, and make love into the early hours of the morning.

He wanted it all with Peter Nureyev.

As if on cue, Juno’s comms began to beep and he scrambled to the end of the bed. He found it on the ground and quickly put it in his ear.

“Juno Steel,” he answered curtly, glancing back at Nureyev.

“Juno, where the hell are you?” Benten scolded shrilly, and Juno flinched. “It’s after midnight, and you said you would call!”

Juno cringed and stuck his tongue out at Nureyev’s smug smirk. “Yeah, sorry Ben, we just got busy talking,” he said, and it wasn’t a complete lie. “I’m just waiting for the cab and I’ll be home soon. Go to bed.”

Benten was quiet for several long moments before he said, “Talking, huh?”

“Yes, Benzaiten, talking,” Juno said through gritted teeth, his face hot with embarrassment. “Go to bed.”

Benten sighed dramatically. “Fine. You owe me a full play-by-play in the morning, though,” he said.

“Yeah, whatever,” Juno said with a snort. “See you in the morning.”

The commes beeped as Benten hung up and Juno looked back at Nureyev properly. He was struck all over again by the image Nureyev made surrounded by pillows, long hair messy and knotted, lipstick stains all over and completely naked. Had he been younger, Juno knew he would be hard again and ready for round two.

Nureyev smiled at him and leaned over to the bedside table for his own comms. “You try to get cleaned up a bit, and I’ll call you a cab,” Nureyev offered and was already dialling a number in.

Juno crawled back up the bed to kiss Nureyev deeply before slipping away into the bathroom.

He stared at his face in the mirror, at the way his lipstick was smeared from their kisses, and his mascara and eyeliner had run with his tears. Closing the bathroom door and locking it, Juno took the eyepatch off and grabbed the make-up wipes provided by the hotel. 

They were decent quality, and did a decent enough job in cleaning up his racoon eyes, but proved useless when he tried to deal with the mess of lipstick that was smeared up his cheek. It appeared that Benten exclusively purchased make-up for demons, he thought bitterly before wetting a washcloth and giving himself another quick wash.

Stepping back into the bedroom, Juno found it to be empty. He could hear Nureyev on his laptop out in the living room, humming quietly, so Juno picked his dress and shoes up off the floor and went to join him.

Nureyev was sitting cross-legged on the couch with his laptop. The image of him sitting there was striking, with Nureyev completely naked except for his glasses, with lipstick stains all over his pale skin and his hair still a tangled mess around his face. Something about seeing Nureyev like that— sleepy and dishevelled, head tilted upward while he squinted through his glasses thoughtfully— had Juno wishing for more time or a different life, whatever it took to keep it.

It was so soft and intimate, Juno’s heart ached and he wanted nothing more than to drag Nureyev back to bed and kiss him senseless.

Instead, Juno pulled his dress back on, doing the belt up as he stopped to stand behind the couch. Bending at the waist, Juno wrapped his arms around Nureyev’s shoulders and pressed a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the side of Nureyev’s throat before looking at the computer screen.

It was a window full of different surveillance feeds for the hotel, and Juno raised an eyebrow. “What’re you up to now?”

Nureyev turned his head to capture Juno’s lips in a searching kiss, groaning when Juno opened for him. When he finally pulled away, he said, “I’m going to walk you out.”

“You might need to put on more clothes, Nureyev,” Juno said with a suggestive lilt, running a hand down Nureyev’s naked torso teasingly. He delighted in Nureyev’s shiver, pressing another kiss to his throat, aiming higher so his lips teased just below Nureyev’s jaw.

“No, my dear detective, I’ll be walking you out my way,” Nureyev replied, shuddering again.

“And that means…?” Juno prompted, keeping his mouth pressed to the thief’s heated skin.

“You will be on your comms, and I will coordinate looping camera footage while I direct you through your escape,” Nureyev elaborated, and the excited tone to his voice brought a smile to Juno’s face. “The cab I’ve called will meet you where the stairway lets out on the street.”

Juno stood up to finish adjusting his dress, shifting the draping fabric to cover his front more securely. He made a mental note to give Nureyev a proper lecture about using knives on his underthings later. 

“Sounds kinda fun. I’m game,” Juno eventually said, sitting down to put his boots back on.

Nureyev smiled and winked playfully at him. “That’s only partially why I want to do this.”

“Your other reasons?” Juno asked.

“I want to see how well we can work together, first of all,” Nureyev replied and then gave Juno a suggestive smile, showing off his teeth. “I also enjoy bossing you around a bit.”

Juno scoffed, even as heat flooded through him. Standing up, he crossed the distance to Nureyev and bent to give Nureyev a soft kiss. The thief sighed and lifted his hands to hold the back of Juno’s head gently, opening up for Juno’s tongue.

“Don’t get used to it,” Juno teased as he pulled away and stood back up. Putting his comms in his ear, he walked over to the door. “Let’s do this then.”

“Alright, love,” Nureyev began with a grin. “Down the hall to the left there is a door to the stairwell on the right. Once you’re on the landing, call me.”

Juno saluted, resolutely ignoring the curl of heat in his gut at the commanding tone. “Got it,” he said, hoping it sounded steadier than he felt.

Nureyev smirked knowingly. “Go no further than the landing though, Juno,” he added, the firmness in his tone hardening. “Can you manage that for me?”

Juno felt his face grow hot and bit his cheek, nodding quickly. Not trusting himself to speak, he muttered a quick mm-hmm and turned fully toward the door.

“Juno,” Nureyev chastised lightly, and Juno dropped his forehead against the door.

“Yes, Nureyev, I can manage it,” he said, his voice a bit strained.

“Good girl,” Nureyev said, and Juno could hear the smirk in his voice at his shudder. “Let’s begin then.”

Juno quickly stepped out into the halway, leaning back against the door to take a deep breath. His pulse was jumping, with excitement about what they had done and what they were about to do, anxiety and anticipation for the heist to come. A grin overtook him, and Juno had to work not to laugh a bit out loud.

With that, he hurried down the hall, and slipped into the stairwell, already halfway through dialling Nureyev’s comms by the time he opened the door.

“Excellent work thus far, darling,” Nureyev purred as he answered.

“Knock it off,” Juno grumbled, smiling. “We have work to do.”

“Knock what off, dear detective?” he asked, sounding excessively innocent.

“You know what I mean,” Juno replied.

Nureyev sighed, and Juno could hear his eye-roll. “Fine, we can do this the boring way for the sensitive detective,” he complained and Juno snorted.

It went smoothly from there, Juno stopping and going all the way down the stairwell according to Nureyev’s directions. Soon enough, Juno found himself pushing through a door and out onto the street. Parked at the curb, there was a cab waiting, the driver barely blinking at Juno’s sudden appearance before he opened the back door.

“Mr Dahlia Rose?” the cabby confirmed as Juno stepped closer.

“That’s me,” he said with a laugh, and then into his commes, “Thank’s Duke, I’ll see you tomorrow morning?”

Nureyev chuckled warmly, and Juno felt something pull in his chest. “Of course, my love,” he said softly, making Juno’s heart stutter. “I wouldn’t miss breakfast for the world.”

The comms beeped as Juno disconnected, and he gave the cabby his address as he slid into the backseat.

The drive was quiet, disturbed only by the sound of the cabby’s radio, leaving Juno to his thoughts. Juno looked out the window, watching Hyperion City roll by with a wistful smile.

He’d had an amazing evening, even with the emotional argument with Nureyev in the middle of it. Juno felt his chest squeeze as he thought about it, biting his lip as he leaned against the window. He thought about Nureyev saying “my love” all evening, about the feeling of Nureyev’s body under his as he dozed, about the quiet confession regarding the death of the man who made him.

“Stay the night?”

The memory of that quiet, vulnerable question, the hope that filled Nureyev’s tone, struck Juno in the chest. With sudden, intense clarity, he knew he would never be able to write the night off as a casual fling. It shouldn’t have been a surprise, given that Juno knew going into it that he was completely disinterested in sex unless his heart was in it. Juno didn’t do ‘flings.’

Juno knew he was in love with the thief, no matter how stupid that was, and for the brief seconds before the fear and heartach could catch up, he felt overwhelmed with joy.

“I do not want to retire, and I cannot retire to Mars, my love.”

Remembering that felt like a solid punch to the gut. Unshed tears stung his eyes and Juno hated himself for them. He knew the entire time that Nureyev would be leaving. He knew he wouldn’t get to keep him.

The cab stopped outside his apartment, and the cabby shook his head when Juno went to transfer the creds. 

“No need. Mr Rose has already paid the fare and tip,” the cabby said, smiling at Juno’s indignant expression.

“Of course he did,” Juno grumbled but still transferred the creds. “Take it.”

“Uh, Mr Rose insisted—”

“Take the money, it’s a tip,” Juno said sternly, and slid out as the cabby thanked him profusely.

Approaching the front door of his and Benten’s apartment, he was relieved to see that there were no lights on inside. Juno didn’t want to deal with Benten while he was so close to crying and his lipstick was smeared across his cheek.

Once he was inside, he worked on getting his boots off, the first one having him curse under his breath as he struggled to untie it. Juno was exhausted and sore, and he just wanted to go to bed.

The tears welled up too quickly for Juno to blink them away, and he pulled off his eyepatch before he really started crying.

The light from the kitchen clicked on, startling a small shriek out of Juno.

“Do you have any idea what time it is, young lady?” Benten shouted, his tone teasing, but Juno was not in the mood for it.

“Har har, Ben. That’s super hilarious and not old at all,” Juno grumbled, trying to keep his tone light as he struggled with his boots, pointedly keeping his back turned toward his brother.

Of course, Benten could easily hear the barely restrained distress in Juno’s voice and he could hear Benten crossing the living room. “Hey, what’s wrong?” he asked.

Juno was frantic in his fight with his boots, needing to get them off so he could hide in the bathroom and get cleaned up. He couldn’t let Benten see him like that, especially not after what they had talked about before his night out.

By the time Juno had gotten free of this first boot, Benten was close enough to catch a glimpse of his messed up make-up and the hickeys on his shoulder and neck. Worst of all, he could see Juno’s unshed tears and Benten was instantly angry.

“Juno, what the fuck—”

“I know, Benten, I fucked up,” Juno said quickly, and he finally got the second boot off and hurried off to the bathroom. He locked himself inside, and when Benten began knocking, Juno shouted, “Go away, Benten! I honestly don’t need your lecture right now!”

“Lecture?” Benten asked, sounding legitimately confused and pausing long enough for Juno to answer.

However, Juno chose to try to ignore his brother, taking out a washcloth and wetting it to try and wash the make-up off. At Juno’s silence, Benten resumed his assault on the door.

“Did he hurt you?” Benten demanded, and Juno was completely thrown off by the question.

“What? No, Benten, I’m fine!” he replied, flinching when his voice cracked a bit. It didn’t sound convincing at all.

“Juno, seriously get out here! I will hunt him down right now and kill him if—”

Juno flung the bathroom door back open and dodged Benten’s fist, which was mid-knock. His brother was wild-eyed, looking so worried, and suddenly he understood his brother’s concern.

“It’s fine, Ben, seriously,” Juno insisted, grabbing Benten’s shoulders. “He didn’t— it’s not what you’re thinking.”

“Juno, you’re crying—”

“I know! I know. Seriously, he was great, he was nice, he was just…” Juno trailed off, unsure of what to say to make Benten leave him alone about it. Juno knew what he looked like, what they discussed before his Not Date with Nureyev, and what it all meant in the long run. “It was fine.”

Benten did not look convinced. “You’re upset. It can’t be fine—”

“Yes, I”m upset!” Juno burst out with an explosive sigh, shaking his head. There was no point denying it, and he wasn’t getting out of the discussion before bed. “If you’re going to insist on doing this tonight, then help me with my make-up. I’m not talking about it while I look like this, and this lipstick is terrible.”

Benten crossed his arms with a frown before rolling his eyes. “Fine, go get out of that dress and meet me in the living room,” he said, turning away to head to the kitchen.

Juno got changed quickly, shivering at the soreness already settling in his hips, thighs, and ass. He knew he was going to be feeling it in the morning, but he didn’t regret a moment of that evening, even with how broken his heart was.

When Juno left his room, he found Benten set up with a tub of coconut oil, a few washcloths, and a bowl of water. There were also two separate pints of ice cream set off to the side on the coffee table and a stream playing quietly on the monitor.

“Ben,” Juno grumbled at the special treatment, sitting down heavily.

“Nuh-uh, Juno. You’re not going to bed like this,” Benten said sternly, warming up the coconut oil in his hands and smearing it over Juno’s face, particularly on his lips and eyes. “You know you can’t go to bed upset. I heard you in the bathroom the other day or whenever that was, by the way.”

“Sorry,” Juno mumbled, embarrassed that Benten had not only heard him, but was bringing it up at all.

“Why the hell are you apologizing to me?” Benten asked, pulling his hands away from Juno’s face to wipe them clean on one of the washcloths. “I said all of that shit to you, let you go to bed upset, and didn’t stick around to make sure you were okay the next morning. That was super shitty of me.”

“Ben—”

“No, shut up. Just this once, let someone else take the blame,” Benten interrupted, picking up another cloth and wetting it a bit. As he began wiping the oil off of Juno’s face, he sighed. “So. What happened?”

Juno actually let out a laugh at that and gestured vaguely at himself. “Well, he took me out to dinner, then we went back to his hotel room, and then I’m pretty sure you can guess what happened after that,” Juno said, trying to be as vague as possible about it.

Benten pulled back and dropped the hand holding the washcloth into his lap. “What does that mean, Juno?” he asked, but it was obvious he knew exactly what Juno had meant.

“We went back to his hotel to talk,” Juno said, blushing hotly when Benten raised his eyebrow at him. “And then we did, uh, a bit more than talking. And then a lot more than talking.”

“We had one rule! Which you agreed to!” Benten scolded, throwing the washcloth onto the coffee table.

“I know,” Juno said with a weak nod.

“It was ‘absolutely do not sleep with the criminal!’ And I even thought it would be easy for you to manage!” Benten continued, grabbing one of the pints of ice cream open and digging into it.

“Yeah, Ben, I remember,” Juno said miserably, grabbing his own ice cream and starting in on it a bit slower.

“And you still slept with him?”

“Yeup,” Juno replied sadly.

Benten made a disgusted noise, almost a gag, and said, “The man put an entire sandwich in his pocket, Juno.”

Juno frowned at him. “He didn’t have the pockets on while we fucked, Ben.”

Benten made another disgusted noise and fell quiet, silently fuming into his ice cream. Then he gasped. “What about the Chastity Thong? Between it and the harness, you were supposed to stop and think!” he insisted.

Juno rolled his eyes. “First of all, the harness just got him really excited, and second of all, I did stop to think,” Juno said, smiling smugly at Benten’s disgusted face. “But then Rex… cut the thong… off of me.”

Benten’s eyes widened. “Like, with scissors?”

Juno smirked at his brother. “With a knife.”

There were several moments of Benten just spluttering. “Wait, let me get this straight,” he finally said, his voice full of indignant shock. “Not only did you fuck a criminal, but you let his knife near your lady bits?”

“The knife didn’t get anywhere near my lady bits, Ben,” Juno replied, and he couldn’t quite keep the wistful note out of his voice.

“And you sound disappointed about that!” Benten cried, horrified by this revelation, and Juno couldn’t pass up the opportunity to mess with his brother.

“So what if I am?” Juno asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Eugh, gross, I’m suing for damages,” Benten whined, glaring while Juno laughed.

After a while, Benten sighed and began mostly picking at his ice cream. “Joking aside, you don’t do casual,” he said softly, and Juno laughed humourlessly. “Like, I know how you’re very much about… needing those intense romantic feelings to get things going like that.”

Juno nodded, biting the inside of his cheek as tears welled back up. “Yeup.”

“And… you slept with him,” Benten continued slowly.

“Yeup,” he confirmed, laughing a bit.

“So… is he, like, staying then?” Benten asked.

“Nope,” Juno huffed, lifting a hand to wipe away a tear that was about to fall.

“Juno…” Benten started, but let himself trail off.

“It was so impulsive,” Juno elaborated, sadly shovelling some ice cream into his mouth. He let the ice cream melt before he said, “I just… I wanted to have whatever I could get, even if I couldn’t keep it, you know?”

Benten was quiet for a long time before pulling Juno into a tight hug, which Juno was more than happy to accept. With some adjusting, Benten got the two of them snuggled under a pile of blankets on the couch, their legs tangled and shoulders touching, leaning their heads together as they worked on their ice cream.

“I really know how to pick’em, huh?” Juno asked eventually.

Benten hummed a bit. “I mean, I hate him, but he seems to really care about you, and he is hot, so I mean, other than the whole criminal and leaving thing, you didn’t do too bad.”

Juno snorted. “Seriously? You hate him?”

“‘Course I do, Juno. He wants to mess around with my brother! I mean, it’s been a struggle to hate him since his obvious disgust at seeing me at that gala, but you know…” Benten trailed off before he asked, “So, you had a good time?”

Juno smiled, his face feeling hot again. “Yeah, dinner was great,” he said a bit wistfully. “Rex took me to that super fancy place, Rouge-something.”

Benten tensed. “Isn’t that where…?”

“Diamond proposed? Yeah,” Juno said with a sigh, smiling down at his ice cream. “But it was fine. It was… it was really nice.”

Juno finished his ice cream, and put the container down on the coffee table. He snuggled into the blankets and relaxed against Benten’s side even more. After a few minutes of quiet between them, he asked, “Why is it always like this for me?”

“Hm?” Benten hummed curiously around a mouthful of his ice cream and Juno shrugged.

“The more I want something, the more the universe does to fuck it up for me,” he answered, and it sounded pathetic to his own ears, and humiliation flooded him when Benten sighed.

“Do you want me to be honest with you, or just let you feel sorry for yourself?” he asked, and Juno let out a bark of laughter.

“Would my answer actually change what you were planning to do?” Juno asked.

“Nope!” Benten said cheerfully and took a deep breath. “Juno, you ignore red flags like it’s your job. You think the flags are decoration, a feature and not a bug. You’re famous for it!”

Juno scoffed before sitting up to face Benten. “And you don’t?”

“Shut up, this isn’t about me, it’s about you,” Benten snapped, glaring. “Listen, you pegged him—”

“He actually pegged me—”

“Ew, shut up, I’m being serious and you’re being gross,” Benten said with a cringe. “You figured him out the instant you saw him. You knew he was bad news, and you knew he would leave since day one.”

Juno glared a bit but he couldn’t actually argue it.

Benten’s face and tone softened as he said, “So, it’s a lot less of the universe ‘ruining’ things and more just… the universe operating as normal.”

“Hmph,” was all Juno said before snuggling deeper into the blankets against Benten’s side. 

“I just… really like Rex, Ben,” he confessed quietly, and sighed when Benten rested his cheek on the top of his head.

“He told you his name, then?” Benten asked, and Juno furrowed his brow, wondering if he slipped up somehow.

“Yeah, he told me everything, why— how did you know?” Juno asked.

“I remember you saying something about not calling him ‘Rex’ until you knew his actual name or something like that,” Benten said with a chuckle. “It was super dramatic, and I approved even if I called you an idiot about it.”

Juno laughed a bit and rolled his eyes. “Then yes, he told me his name, and no, I won’t tell you,” Juno said quickly, knowing that was going to be his next question.

For a bit, Benten just pouted into his ice cream until he smirked, meeting Juno’s gaze. “So… does he have an ass?”

Juno groaned loudly. “Goddamn it, Ben, seriously?”

Ben shrugged, scooping up the last big spoonful of his ice cream into his mouth and tossing the empty container onto the coffee table. “It’s a yesh’r no quesh’in, Juno,” he mumbled around the ice cream in his mouth.

“Ass isn’t all there is, Ben,” Juno said, and realizing that was enough of an answer on it’s own, he quickly added, “And it’s not like I really saw him from behind much!”

“Ah, so it’s just as I thought,” Benten hummed, nodding sagely. “No ass. Tragic.”

“Not confirming that assumption, but even if he did lack certain… assets,” Juno started with a sly smirk. “He more than makes up for with his amazing cock—”

“Oh! Gross!” Benten gagged pushing Juno away. “Both the terrible pun and the image of him fucking you in my head. Disgusting. I’m suing for damages!”

Juno laughed just before a huge yawn overtook him. “Can we finish this in the morning? I’m really tired.”

“Yeah, we can do that, Juno,” Benten said, his tone fond and Juno couldn’t help but smile..

With that, the two of them dozed off together on the couch, Juno’s head on his brother’s shoulder, and Benten’s arms wrapped loosely around him.

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