#and sometimes it actually is the best solution and still not sympathetic because it betrays someone close to them for the greater good!

[lgbtlunaverse]

One thing i've run up against when dealing with fandom and characters making less than ideal choices is that people seem to treat a character's decision being sympathetic, the decision being understandable, the decision being reasonable, and it being objectively the best solution for the situation, as synonymous. When those are 4 very different things.

[thiswasinevitableid]

13 fury and 29 leviathan, Ot4, nsfw, please!

I decided to split these up, so here’s Leviathan, and fury will be a separate fill! Indrid’s design is based on an oarfish, Duck on a grouper, Barclay on a whale shark, and Stern is a black and white snapper.

There are times Joseph wishes he was just a brain floating in seashell, not a mer with a body that needs things like food, sleep, and sex. The migration of the Leviathans is one such time.

Every five years, the larger creatures of the Marianas Trench travel upwards, for reasons that remain mysterious to even the deep sea mers. Five years ago, Joseph was ill. Five years before, his job was such that he was unable to take the few days needed to visit the migration sight and record his findings. Now that his chance has come, he’s not letting anything, be it the possibility of losing a limb if he gets too close to the giants or the sparse fishing near his camp stop him.

And he’s certainly not letting his heat stop him.

 He’s chosen the optimal observation point, so when another mer swims into the view, he prays they won’t chase him off or make noise.

“Oh, apologies, I was not anticipating this timeline.” The merman is angular around the face, his tan body bookended with silver; his moonlight colored hair occasionally falls across glowing, red eyes, and his tail is longer than average, elegantly metallic and fanned with red. He strikes Joseph as formidable, so it’s a good thing that he seems friendly.

The new mer cocks his head, “You’re here to observe the migration.”

“I am. Um, are you?” It could be fun to have a fellow rare creature’s enthusiast to keep him company.

“No. I come here to draw, but I’m happy to share the space with you.”

“Thank you.”

They make small talk, during which the other mer introduces himself as Indrid, a seer for hire, and informs Joseph that the migration will start in the next ten minutes.

While his brain focuses on the task ahead, his heat creeps through his body. It’s not too bad, but he knows it will only get more intense as the day moves one. It’s mostly agitation right now, not the aches and tunnel vision that will come for him over the next three days. He’s not sure if he’s releasing any sort of scent signals, because the last thing he needs while trying to record the leviathans is someone pestering him.

Indrid looks up from his drawing, sets it carefully on a stone and swims a circle around Joseph, “Ah, I was not imagining things. You are giving off heat pheromones. And I thought I was prone to unlucky timing.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose.” Joseph grumbles.

“Of course not. I, ah, do not mean to worry you, but there are many futures where your research is interrupted by hopeful suitors.”

“Damn it.”

“If it would help, I could stay close and pretend to be your mate. You, ah, you would not need to actually be such, though I am not opposed to such things once you are done with your day.” His ears flick once, “the point is, my help is not contingent on sex.”

“That…that would be very helpful, thank you.” Indrid seems genuinely eager to help him, which set fondness squirming up his spine.

Indrid retrieves his supplies, curls the end of his tail around the black and white of Joseph’s own, and murmurs, “The first one should appear in under twenty-seconds.”

He’s right on the money, Joseph stifling a gasp of delight as the massive, bone-white body of a Ningen emerges. It’s pace is alarming fast for something so large.

Next is a creature he’s never so much as read of; serpentine and bioluminescent, with light lures fanned out across it’s forehead.

Movement to his left, another mer emerging from the nearby rocks with their eyes on him. Indrid waits a beat, then whips his head around to hiss at the newcomer, frilling his ears out as he does. They turn tail instantly.

“They didn’t even argue.” He’s impressed.

“I have a bit of a, ah, a reputation. It’s unearned, mind you, but sometimes it comes in handy.”

Joseph nods, turns his attention back to the trench just in time to see a Kraken fleeing from a pair of massive sharks.

He continues his observation with no interruptions, Indrid’s presence enough to deter the few mers who come to investigate him. His new acquaintance offers additional benefits; the physical contact soothes his heat to a degree, especially when pretends that this is all a prelude to that lovely tail wrapping around him while Indrid sinks his teeth into his shoulders.

Better still, during a lull in conversation he glances over to find Indrid has captured the leviathans on paper.

“It seemed to me your notes could use illustrations.” He says a moment before Joseph can ask.

“That’s, Indrid those are incredible, you didn’t need to set your own projects aside-“

“This is more fun than drawing the futures. And more rewarding.” He smiles at Joseph’s excitement.

It’s going on hour seven of observation that his body betrays him; his heat seeps into every nerve, his body twitching and squirming in it’s desire to swim off and get off as soon as possible.

“I foresee the migration lasting three more days. If you need to be done for the day, I do not think it will damage your research.”

“I…”

“However” Indrid says casually, “if you want to stay longer but are struggling to, I can always tell you that good mates can last a few hours more.”

“Shit” The part of his tail concealing his dick pulses, “Indrid, how did you know-“

“Foresight.” Indrid taps his temple, grinning wider.

“I, I think I can call it a night.” He repacks his observation kit, Indrid’s tail holding his all the while. Then he whirls, kissing him as the other mer lets out a muffled laugh.

“My, it must have gotten intense.” Indrid strokes his cheek, roving his eyes up and down his body.

“Very. I, I’m sorry, I’m not very good at spontaneity during my heats, so this might be awkward.” He tries to pet Indrid’s tail, only for his wrists to be caught in a strong hold.

“What do you usually do?”

“I, um, I pick out potential partners ahead of time. And if there aren’t any I’m interested in, I just hole up on my own until it’s over. Besides, it’s not just about who I want; what I want can be a bit of a surprise for most mers.”

Indrid leans close, purrs in his ear, “Am I right that you would call yourself, ah, needy pet?”

“Hollllyshit”

“Answer me.” There’s an edge to his lilt.

“Yes, I would, Indrid please-“

“Hush.” The mer begins swimming them towards the houses on the cliffs, “I have just the thing. You need all the attention you can get, more than I can give without passing out, but there is an easy solution.” He turns the conversation away from sex, asking Joseph about his work until they reach the entrance to a home in the rocks, the front of it sporting an impressive garden.

“’Drid, that you?” A voice calls as they swim down the hallway.

“Yes, my love. And I brought a guest.” They round the corner into a large kitchen. Seated at the table is a merman with short, dark hair, and a mottled green and brown fin. He sets the model ship he’s working on into a carved box, then propels himself with obvious, easy strength to capture Indrid in a kiss. It’s only when Indrid nudges him to turn his head that he sees Joseph.

“Oh, uh, name’s Duck, welcome to our place.” He holds out a hand, smile crooked and soft, the evening light falling around the curves of his body in a way that makes it impossible for Joseph to look anywhere else.

“It’s lovely.” He takes Duck’s hand, shaking it as Indrid explains how they met. Duck takes a polite interest in it, adding that he’s done restoration work on the scant plant life near the edge of the trench.

“Now, what I wanna know is if you invited him for the reason I think you did.” Duck sends a pointed look at Josephs tail, where silver and blue are starting to pulse in place of his usual colors.

“Yes. Assuming everyone is amenable to the idea. Speaking of which, where is, ah, nevermind, here he comes.”

“Hey Indrid, should I start dinner? Heard you say something about a guest—oh holy fuck.”

Joseph clamps his hands over his mouth to stifle the excited moan that tries to leap out.

“You two know each other?” Duck looks between them, then smirks, “hold on. Barclay, is this fella mr. tall, dark, and handsome you keep swoonin over?”

“I, uh, I” Barclay seems to be trying to hide behind his grey and black-speckled tail, “I didn’t know this is where you were going. When you said vacation I assumed, like, you’d go somewhere fancy. Not just a few miles out from the city.”

“If the guy behind me hadn’t been in such a rush to get his lunch, I could have told you more.” He swims forward, heat ebbing in the face of discovering where the mer he’s had a crush on for months lives (and that Indrid has managed to secure two of the most attractive mermen in the world as partners).

Before he can reach Barclay, he jerks to a stop. Duck has hold of the end of his tail, though from the sharp-toothed grin this tableau was Indrid’s idea.

“Am I correct” Indrid swims lazy circles around the other three, “that we are all in agreement that the best way for Joseph to manage his heat is for us to take turns helping him relieve the tension?”

“Yep”

“Uh huh.”

“Yes, now for gods sake let’s get to it.” He tries swimming forward, discovers Duck is even stronger than he looks, and lets out a frustrated, horny whine. Duck makes a sympathetic noise, rubbing his tail soothingly. Barclay decides to close the distance himself, only to freeze at Indrid’s voice.

“I believe you said something about dinner, dear one.”

“But-“ Barclay’s brown eyes send a pleading look at between Joseph and Indrid.

“You’ll get your turn, or several if the timelines are correct, but it won’t do for all of us to get caught up in the heat of the moment and forget to eat. Or for Joseph to burn through a great deal of energy and not replenish it. Besides, he clearly likes your cooking. You have a chance to show off.”

Barclay chuckles, “You’re a menace, sir.”

“You love me for it.”

“I do.” Barclay kisses Indrid as he drifts by, gives one more appreciative, longing look at Joseph, and turns back to the counter. Joseph’s back hits the table a split-second later, Indrid’s face and frilled-out ears filling his vision.

“Now, be a good little pet and let me fuck you.” Ink-smudged fingers expertly stroke his scales as his tail curves around him, trapping them together. The pressure of his touch and the sting of his teeth as they graze his collarbone make Joseph buck in his hold.

“IndridpleaseOHshit, shit” a cock slides into him, “that, that was fast.”

“I have been swimming in your desire for hours. It was only because you were so very engrossed in your work that I ohnnnn, I did not ask to do this sooner.” Indrid nibbles his ear, his tail rippling with effort as he fucks deeper, “you just seemed so happy.”

Joseph moans, wrapping his arms around Indrids shoulders, “That’s one of the most considerate things anyone’s done for me in months.”

“You deserve it, pet, just as much as you deserve to be fucked so much you’re too full to swim.”

“No, ahnnfuck, no wonder Barclay looks so content on Monday mornings, if this is how you treat your mates.”

Indrid trills, blushes, and then hides the fact by sinking his teeth into Joseph’s shoulder. The pain lights him up from tail-tip to the top of his head and he buries a kiss in Indrid’s neck. The tendrils of his cock, already wound around Indrid’s shaft, tighten as the other mer kisses along the bite mark.

“That’s it pet, go ahead and cum, you’ve been so patient, held out so long, you’ll feel so much better if you do.”

The fact that it’s the act of receiving permission that tips him over the edge is probably something to bring up with his therapist, but he’s not thinking about that now. Right now, his world is nothing more than blinding pleasure and his body screaming with relief that he’s finally getting off.

Indrid stays still as he rides it out, trilling softly as he kisses his cheeks. He waits until Joseph meets his eyes and nods before he begins rolling his hips, tail coiling and relaxing in time with his efforts.

“There we are, you can take a break pet, lay here and let me-AHhhnn” His measured thrusts morph into sharp jerks. Joseph’s cock perks up as knuckles graze it, and Duck’s chin rests on Indrid’s shoulder.

“Sorry, you know watchin you play all high and mighty turns me on. Especially when you’re fuckin such a handsome piece of tail.” Duck fingers open the lower part of the slit from which Indrid’s cock emerged.

“No complaAAIInts here” Indrid’s movements turn wilder by the moment and he cranes his neck backwards in search of kisses. Joseph would sit up so he and Duck could lavish him with them from both sides, but his muscles aren’t quite up to that yet.

There are two, high trills, one after the other as Duck bites the tip of Indrid’s ear and then the base of his neck. Indrid thrusts as deep as he can, cumming with satisfied chirps and moans as Duck sucks a bruise into his neck.

As Indrid pulls out, he rubs at the scales around Joseph’s cock in a way he’s never seen before, one that makes everything close up the instant his cock is all the way free. He raises an eyebrow, intrigued.

“It’s courteous to hold onto what a mate gives you” Indrid leans closer, adding, “I also suspect Barclay will enjoy it.”

Indrid helps Joseph sit up, clearly intending to guide him over to service Duck, but Joseph is miles ahead of him, darting out to wrap his arms around his middle and kiss his way from his chest to his belly.

“Y;know, Barclay made it sound like you were real reserved, shy even. Know heats can make folks a little wild, but this seems like a stretch.”

“It’s, it’s not the heat. It’s you. It’s this” He presses another kiss to his belly slides his hands down to grope his upper tail, “you’re, well, let’s just say I think Indrid has incredible taste. Your whole body is divine, Duck” he nips the sensitive band where scales give way to skin, “if someone told me you swam straight out of Poseidon’s Court, I’d believe them.”

“Fuck, are you always like this?” Duck looks at Barclay, who’s holding a spoon so tight it’s cracking.

“Nope.” The cooks voice is creeping higher as he watches Joseph lick and kiss at Duck’s tail.

Duck stills him with a hand in his hair, keeping his eyes on Barclay, “Do you, uh wanna switch? I can keep an eye on whatever you’re makin so you don’t gotta wait longer.”

“No, I, I wanna be good. I can be patient. But, uh, thanks.”

“Suit yourself. Alright handsome, you can keep goinnnnfuck, ohfuckyeah that’s good.” Duck cups the back of his head, urging him on. Joseph understands why Indrid wasn’t thrown by his unconventional cock; Duck’s is the same, multiple short, hyper-sensitive tendrils emerging from a slit instead of a shaft.

To his delight Duck is vocal, moaning and groaning as he tells him how well he’s doing, how perfect he looks with a cock in his mouth.

“Oughta, oughta make you suck ‘Drid and Barclay at the same time, be so fuckin hot, think I could cum without even touchin myself ohfuck, yeah, do that again.”

The tendrils tickle when they glide over his tongue, harden when he curls his lips around a few and sucks.

“Enjoying yourself my love?”

“You know it, darling. Fuck, Joe, where the fuck did you learn to suck dick like this?”

He pulls back, winks, “Maybe if you take me out to dinner, I’ll tell you the whole sordid tale.”

“You got a date” Duck dips down to kiss him, then shoves him back into place, grinding his hips harder before cumming with a half-laugh, half-moan. He’s still shaking when he guides Joseph so they’re face to face and kisses him, whispering, “Thanks for that, handsome.”

He doesn’t have time to note that no one’s ever thanked him for blowing them before there’s a thunk of bowls on the nearby table.

“Dinner’s ready.” Barclays cock is visibly throbbing under his scales, but he lets Indrid lead him to a chair, set a bowl next to him, and whisper in his ear with a mischievous grin. The cook nods, and then Indrid is waving Joseph over.

“You really should eat, you barely had any lunch, but Barclay’s been patient. I recommend multitasking.” Indrid pecks their cheeks one after the other, then goes to sit in Duck’s lap.

Joseph lowers himself and rubs their tails together, “Dinner smells delicious.”

“It’s not the only thing.” Barclay rumbles, then shakes his head, “sorry, I’m super-responsive to other mers heats, we, we can just have dinner if you want, you don’t have to-“

“Barclay, you’ve been on my mind for months. I want to.” His tendrils don’t coax so much as demand Barclay’s cock enter him and they moan in tandem as Joseph settles into place.

“Here” Barclay holds up a piece of fresh crab and Joseph eats it from between his fingers. It’s perfect, just like every meal Barclay’s ever made him. He “mmmms” and opens his mouth for another, this time biting Barclays finger before taking it.

“Tall, dark, and handsome, huh?”

The cook blushes, “Yeah. You, gods you’re always so put-together, I’d say this was a dream come true by my brain can only fantasize about you, like, calling me up to your office and sucking you off. Never thought I’d see you heat-crazed and getting fucked by my boyfriend and one of my best friends. Also, it’s so fucking hot” he gives his first sharp thrust up, “to fuck Indrid’s cum back into you.”

“I told you so.” Indrid murmurs from behind them.

Joseph rocks his hips, kissing Barclay’s cheeks and stroking his beard, “Seeing you is the best part of my day; I, um, I even redid my budget so I could come get lunch more often. I almost asked if you wanted to help me with my heat but I, I was worried it’d be overstepping.”

“Nah. Not for my favorite customer.” Barclay kisses his nose.

“Does AHnnnshit,” Barclay’s cock is thick enough to catch all the tendrils, “does this mean I get a discount now?”

“Of course, ten percent off for every blowjob.”

“I’ll be eating for free in no time. Possibly the end, ohfuckyes, of this heat.” He stops, tries to correct, “that’s, um, that’s if you want to see me again after tonight.”

Barclay nuzzles his neck, “I do. Gonna take a wild guess and say those two do too. And in case you think I’m kidding…”

Joseph cums as Barclay bites the opposite shoulder from where Indrid’s mark is still red, the other mer growling as he pumps his hips up into him again and again, refusing to let go until his cum mixes with Indrid’s and Joseph’s shoulder sports a deep purple bruise.

“Holy shit.” Joseph collapses against his chest.

“Better, babe?” Barclay kisses the top of his head.

He looks over his shoulder at where Duck and Indrid are trading increasingly heated kisses.

“Yes, but I’m just getting started…”

Joseph wakes up in an empty bed, his last memory of Duck fucking him while he jacked Indrid and Barclay off, one in each hand.

Maybe they all have work? Maybe they’re hoping he’ll take a hint and leave…

“Mornin Joe” Duck floats in the bedroom doorway, “Barclay asked me to come get you. He’s almost finished packin breakfast up.”

“Oh,for, um, for me to take on the road?”

Duck shakes his head, “for all four of us; ‘Drid showed us drawins from yesterday and we decided we’d like to join you. If, uh, if that’s okay?”

Joseph swims over to take his hand, “it’s perfect.”

[shadowfae]

Uhhh since you're dealing with people being jackasses: talk about a thing you've been wanting to talk about; or tell a story you've been dying to tell but haven't had a good time to tell it.

Things I want to talk about, hmmmm.

See, the twins’ birthday is on Friday, and it seems I’m writing More Porn. After that is Minos, next Thursday, and that’ll be fun because I know exactly what to write for his birthday, and that’s the fic of how he becomes a Spectre wayyyy back in the Age of Myth. (This is about Saint Seiya, for those of you who don’t follow me on my main.)

King Minos of Crete’s story is a fascinating thing. And the thing about a lot of retellings of Greek myth is that the running theme is almost always “...and the myth got it all wrong because what makes for a good story isn’t what actually happened” and that really got me to wonder how I could spin this guy into a sympathetic villain. Then, of course, I put on Gang of Youth’s Achilles Come Down and that was it, my dude.

So consider this: a young prince and his brother, being prettied up for the throne of Crete where Zeus was born in the most prosperous, if young, kingdom in the Mediterranean, four thousand years ago where this is where most human development is going on right now. That seat of power will move to India next during their Golden Age (as they don’t get their shit wrecked by Santorini and become the Atlantis myth) but for now, it’s in the sea that breathes and is as warm as a bath to dive on into, in the sea where everyone is right now.

A young prince whose brother is pretty and not much else, who knows he has to rule because while his brother is popular, he doesn’t pay attention to his studies and would drive the kingdom immediately into the ground with his enjoyment of finery at the expense of all else. A young prince who knows if he wants his kingdom to survive, knowing full well how many settlements and lives depend on Crete to run supply, that he’s going to have to do some evil and damn himself to save the kingdom. It doesn’t even matter if he wants to be king: it’s just that Rhadamanthys won’t do a good job, and there’s no way he can get him to abdicate, and good sake he doesn’t want to murder his own brother.

But then they get into a catfight over a pretty farmboy that they both like. Rhadamanthys likes Miletos’ smile and the way he talks to plants. Minos likes his wit and how he knows how to keep a farm running and what every problem’s solution is. Rhadamanthys sees a trophy to win, Minos sees an advisor. They both fall in love. Aphrodite from her throne laughs at the thought of two heroes to make a tragedy out of, and lets them start to rip Crete apart.

Minos realizes what’s going on, of course, why wouldn’t he? He wants his kingdom to survive, and this isn’t that. Good sake he doesn’t want to take Miletos prisoner, he knows how the heroes’ stories end and he doesn’t want to be betrayed. So he chases Rhadamanthys out of Crete and stuffs Miletos onto a supply ship heading into Thessaly and bids him that if he likes being alive, he should lay low and stay far from either brother, but gives him a good bag of drachmae and food anyway, and probably a scrap of parchment with an address to a temple of Demeter. Enough that he can save himself if he uses his wits, and Minos knows Miletos has wit.

He becomes king. He saves the kingdom from his brother’s idiocy, knowing Rhadamanthys will never forgive him, knowing that their warring would have destroyed the Mediterranean. This is the cost of what it is to be king of the powerhouse of the cell world. You sacrifice everything you love, everything you are, and you save everyone but yourself.

Kings and heroes have a lot alike, and Minos is a son of Zeus. It doesn’t stop him from being angry with himself. It doesn’t stop the gods from taking an interest in this plucky young man. It doesn’t stop Hera from being angry at Europa all over again. It doesn’t stop Aphrodite from being angry that he denied her the tragedy. He hasn’t proved himself, not to them. So they set him trials. Conquer this kingdom and liberate it from the evil king. Kill that monster and liberate that city from it. Do this, do that, and just when you think you’re done, someone else goes mad and starts killing their own civilians.

Minos doesn’t realize at first that he’s become a terror. That he’s the ghost king already, the one that queens and princes and servants whisper about when their king has so much of a cold. He’ll go mad one day. He’ll go mad and then King Minos of Crete will come by with his armour and his sword, high on his own heroism, walking the road to hell with the very best of intentions.

Minos will care for those kingdoms. He’ll send his advisors and sell them their necessities at half price, help the fledgling kings that rise in the throne still bloody from his conquest until they’re steady under the crown. He makes alliances and plays the game well, but he’s still killing people who never asked to be killed. Still saving people who never wanted to be saved.

He finds a wife in a nymph-goddess and he loves her, he loves her hard, and he’s still scarred from Miletos, he’s afraid to love Pasiphae even though he does with all his heart. She’s powerful, daughter of Helios who blinds him with her sunlight. He kneels before her and tells her that if anyone including himself but save his kingdom tries to take him away from her glory, he will kill them to make her happy.

He doesn’t know he’s already evil. He wants to make his wife happy, wants to not make the mistakes his father did that resulted in his existence. He wants to apologize to Hera for his birth by valuing what she does, and never doing to Pasiphae what his father did to her. He doesn’t know he’s damning himself with every move. But he swears his life to the girl of sunshine and brings her home to celebrate. Crete rejoices, they’ve always had the best of him, they’ve always loved their king who saved them and risks himself to save everyone else. He’s brought home the sun for them, hasn’t he?

They have children, his pride and joy, and he hires the best of tutors for them. He finds a son of Athena who’s known for his brilliance and pays him to teach his son, finds a son of Ares content with his spoils to teach his daughters and his youngest, loves them all and teaches them how to rule when he has to go out and save another city from a mad, dying king. So that when he gets himself killed being stupid, Crete isn’t damned and the world can run without him, because his wife and his children will continue the throne of power. They’ll run the supply lines and find a place for those who need to run, and they’ll save as many people as they can.

Hera likes him well enough for his love, hates him for what he is, hates him more for that he doesn’t understand why the mad king’s wife wants him dead. Aphrodite stings from that he earned Pasiphae’s love with a pledge he didn’t know the consequences of, that he denied her the messy child’s-love of Miletos. Zeus thinks he has farther to go. Poseidon, who Minos doesn’t love as much as his father but whose sea is the very reason he’s as powerful as he is, whose sea he loves more than most but doesn’t remember to thank, shakes the bottom of the Mediterranean in jealousy.

Poseidon makes his displeasure known. Minos appeases him, as best he can, and like every awkward nephew, asks if he needs further repayment or if he has earned his forgiveness. Poseidon smiles, thinks of how Minos does not know how the gods can suffer, and sends him a while bull that shines like the moon.

Minos presents it to his wife, thinks of the white dove that Zeus was for Hera. It’s a long habit he’s fallen into, appeasing Hera at every turn just in case. Amphitrite too, actually, and Artemis for his daughter Ariadne who loves to weave. Pasiphae loves the bull, and shows their children, and Crete understands that the gods love their king as much as they do.

Daedalus, whose son’s education Minos has paid for but who isn’t allowed his freedom to wander - he’s quite useful, and Minos has figured out that people will stay if you give them a reason to, but not that he needs to ask if Daedalus needs anything he might not ask for in supply requests - listens to Athena whispering of kings who didn’t deserve to die and kingdoms robbed of their ability to stand on their own, indebted to no one.

Aphrodite hates the pretty fantasy Minos and Pasiphae have created, hates that they have always gotten along. Hates that they still trust in the vow they made and haven’t had any reason to question. Love is suffering, love is war, and she wants them to prove that they understand her as well as they understand Hera. She goes to Poseidon, shaking with jealousy, and they hatch a plan together.

If he sacrifices the bull, he honours Poseidon. But the dreams of his sleep say that if he does not keep it to show the wealth of his kingdom, he rejects Zeus. There is no way to win. But maybe dreams are just dreams. He breeds the bull several times, to spread the wealth of the blessing to more than just himself, to honour Zeus by keeping what he can. Minos goes to sacrifice it, and finds it missing. He searches with his three eldest children and does not find it until morning, when Daedalus has put Pasiphae back to bed and has burned the contraption he made in a frenzy for his mother’s appreciation. He does not sacrifice it on time, and though he does the moment he finds it and checks that it has not been injured, it isn’t enough.

Three weeks later, they find Pasiphae is pregnant, and although Minos doesn’t quite think the math lines up, sometimes children are weird. Stranger things have happened, and it is a time to rejoice. The pregnancy is difficult, and he spends many days by her side, asking for the best physicians they can find and hopes that they can save her. They make it all the way to the delivery with her still breathing, and when the time comes, the physicians who have helped her through several births know by now to send him to fetch water from the other side of Crete to keep him out from underfoot.

He returns with water he knows they don’t actually need but is willing to fetch for love of Pasiphae, and finds that his wife is dead, and there is a curse within the kingdom that nobody knew about. He thinks of how Poseidon could have swept them all away with a tsunami, and knows that this is his punishment, not Crete’s, and he vows to keep it that way. He thinks another moment, thoughts too quick for anything but grief and shock. He thinks of how Hera might hate him now that he cannot apologize to her. He thinks of how Aphrodite ripped his family apart, and he hasn’t spoken to or seen Rhadamanthys in thirty years. And Minos realizes the question he’s always asked of why kings go mad has an answer, staring him in the face this entire time, and he’s just now seeing it.

It isn’t too late. It can’t be too late. He takes in a breath and asks to see the child. It’s... kind of cute, actually. Half cow, of course, and most certainly a monster, but it’s a baby monster, and when he reaches to hold it like he would any other child of his, it reaches back for him. He half-expected it to bite, and it doesn’t. Really, it’s acting like any other child he’s ever seen.

He swore to Pasiphae he’d keep her safe from everything, and the only thing that would sunder him from her side was his kingdom. She understood his reasons and loved him anyway. A goddess of a woman, and he’d still choose his kingdom over her.

He loved his father, and he loved Rhadamanthys, and he had chosen his kingdom. He loved the gods, as all men did. But he loved his kingdom more. This child is a monster, and monsters need to be killed. Children need to be loved, and killing a child brings down the wrath of every god he knows the name of. He closes his eyes, and opens them again. He loves his kingdom more.

“His name is to be Asterius,” he says, thinking of his mortal stepfather, who loved him more than he loved the gods. “He is a blessing from Poseidon, and though he comes with the death of our queen, we will love him as the prince he is.”

The physicians stare at him as though he is already mad. The glint in his eye probably doesn’t help. They know his words are a lie, and so does he. But sometimes it’s lies that keep a kingdom together. Crete is confused, but rejoices nonetheless, and when Asterius is put to bed, he weeps where his children can see. When he’s done crying for Pasiphae’s loss, he collects himself, and tells his children what he knows, and admits he knows the gods are trying to kill him.

Ariadne puts her hand, calloused from her weaving, on his shoulder, and twisting a spindle of thread in her other hand, swears they’ll always find a way through the machinations of the gods. Minos nods and thanks her, and is comforted by this. The vow has magic to it, not that they realize it, yet. Androgeus twists his sheathed sword and tells him that he’ll go be a hero where he can’t hurt his family, so when the time comes, he will be king and give his father a better way out. Minos looks up at his son, who looks heartbreakingly like Rhadamanthys but with all of Miletos’ wit, and knows that when there is no other option, his son will kill him as a monster, and only his family will know any different, and he will save the kingdom.

Crete has always come first. But his children love him, for they have always seen the best of intentions and only just now do they begin to see the road to hell, and they understand his determination. Blood of a hero’s blood. And by Asterius, too, blood of a monster’s blood.

The kingdom rejoices. Asterius grows in royalty and plenty, knows nothing but kindness as Minos makes it clear anyone who treats him more different than necessary can find another kingdom to serve. He slides down polished palace floors into his stepfather’s arms and Minos laughs. He dares the gods in the silence of his own mind to shatter a bond so gentle and innocent as this.

He does not forget that the gods thrive on challenge, and on bleeding out the innocent. The first assassination attempt happens when Asterius is three. Minos has the man jailed, but released when he doesn’t remember anything and can’t tell him why he wanted the young prince dead so badly. After two more, Minos orders Daedalus to build Asterius a paradise where nobody can find him when he doesn’t want to be found, where he can’t be hurt by the sight of a knife and the fear of his family. Asterius is visited every day by his tutors, escorted by his siblings, and sees the outside world only when Minos is there to ensure his safety. He loves him, and he does not want to see his youngest son hurt.

When Asterius is seven, Androgeus goes to Athens to compete in a tournament. He does not return, murdered by his own fellows in envy for his skill. Minos taught him everything he knows about fighting, and in his rage, he conquers Athens (again) and demands a sacrifice every seven years of fourteen youths and Crete will do with the sacrifices as they will. He returns home to plan the funeral and weep, and Ariadne bars his way to the throne room and starts yelling at him, tears bleeding through her voice.

He realizes what he’s done, and the implications of his words. Now everyone thinks that he’s going to feed Athenians to Asterius, all except for those who are perfectly aware that Asterius is a vegetarian, and can’t really stomach meat anyway. He can’t exactly go back on his word, it shows weakness. Kings pay for their convictions, and Crete comes first.

When he can think straight, after crying some more, they hatch a plan. Really, Ariadne is the genius here. Minos is going to go mad no matter what they do. He will have to die a villain, though she fears that with Androgeus gone, she will have to kill her father in his stead. So she proposes hiding the sacrifices in the labyrinth, so Asterius can have friends for once, and when it is time for Minos to go, they will ‘resurrect’ the sacrifices, and show that Crete once more has the blessing of the gods. Minos starts to laugh, and he laughs until his laughter turns into sobs, and he holds his daughter while his family cries.

This is what it means to be king. Crete will always come first.

They manage fourteen years of sacrifices, twenty-eight friends for Asterius who are all relieved to not be dying, who are glad to know they do get to go home one day, and are perfectly happy to keep up with the con so long as they can have some fineries they’ve never been able to reach. Minos smiles and gets them what they’d like. He can’t give them freedom, but for now, he can give them a home.

Theseus is in the third group of sacrifices, and Minos doesn’t know he’s danger. Ariadne takes a shine to him, gives him her thread that she swore to her father would always find the way through the machinations of the gods. Like every weapon, it has a double edge. By giving it to her love, by letting Aphrodite in, she sacrifices Hera. She goes to her father and asks if there’s not a way they can put on a secret wedding, so that he can still walk her down the aisle, knowing he will not be able to live to see his son-in-law free. He agrees.

They never get that far. Daedalus is bitter from the loss of his son, a messy affair that could have been rectified if he’d only asked for his freedom for a while and had sworn to keep his king’s secrets that still keeps Minos awake, crying from all the mistakes he’s made and the fact that his wife will never be able to soothe him back to sleep, and he offers Theseus a faster deal. The red shine of Ares glitters in the young hero’s eyes. The king of Crete has gone mad, and he delights in drawing out the suffering of Athens. A hero must liberate them from the evil king.

Asterius enjoys swordplay, wants to honour his big brother, is delighted that Theseus can spar with him for a while. Theseus’ blade is much sharper than Asterius has ever remembered a blade being. He dies, and there is nothing anyone can do about it. Theseus grabs Ariadne, all but limp from the shock and the horror and the sudden, raw guilt of believing Theseus could love her and yet let him near her baby brother, and he runs. Daedalus opens their way, and knows exactly what he’s doing.

Minos is woken by his eldest, Catreus, who already knows what it is to be king, and he sends his father after not Theseus but Daedalus. The mastermind of the cruelty this day. Catreus orders Theseus found and brought to Crete for the crime of murdering a prince and kidnapping a princess. Minos takes up his blade and he runs after Daedalus.

He finds him not far from Sicily. It’s been months on the road, and he knows when he returns with the man’s head, he will have one night with his family, and Catreus will kill him with a kiss to the forehead and a sleeping poison to ensure it doesn’t hurt. Is it really so bad, then, that he draws it out? He wants justice for his son, he always has, but he also isn’t quite ready to say goodbye to the world, even though he knew it was coming for years. Even though he has made every preparation he can for the ending that’s inevitable. The gods win, but Crete will survive.

He wishes he could stop in Rhadamanthys’ kingdom, apologize to his brother for everything, see him one last time before he lets the gods win. He can’t. Daedalus ensnares King Cocalus’ three daughters, and when he finds him there, he accepts hospitality as one final thank you to the world. The bathwater is scalding. The princesses look at him like the monster he’s become to save them all.

Minos finds himself in the Underworld and he does not weep. Not yet. He’s still on a quest. It’s not over yet. Charon takes him to the judges’ hall, where Hades and Persephone look upon him, fascinated, tie him to a chair with chains, and ask for this story.

He tells them, and it’s not until Pasiphae’s death that he has to stop to take a breath, so the tears can fall. He chokes out the rest of the story, makes it to the end, and it’s beginning to set in that he doesn’t get to see Catreus again. He won’t see Ariadne brought home. He won’t get to tell his children that he loves them, that he’s proud of them.

Persephone fixes him with a stare so much like Pasiphae that he weeps stronger, and then forces himself to stop. When Pasiphae gives him that look, she wants him to listen, and when Persephone does it, it seems habits die long after he does. She asks him what he considers his single greatest mistake.

He’s blindsided by the question, but thinks. Starts to answer treating Athens with cruelty, pauses. He wants to make sure he gets this right. Takes a breath, and with more conviction, says that he didn’t treat Rhadamanthys and Poseidon with the same love he treated Zeus and Hera to. Persephone nods, expression stoic, and asks what his greatest achievement is.

He thinks of his love for his wife, and his kingdom. He admits that he wants to say it’s saving Crete, but it came with so much suffering that he isn’t sure it counts. And then he says that his greatest achievement is Asterius, who had everything stacked against him, but Minos loved him, and by the time of his death had never become a monster because Minos had saved him, and the only suffering there was that he would be missed and mourned by all of Crete.

Persephone smiles, just a little. She asks him one last question. If she could snap her fingers and he woke up just outside of Sicily in an inn with Daedalus dead and himself alive, would he ask her to? Would he go back?

He doesn’t need to think. Of course he would. He wants to see his remaining children. He wants to tell them that he loves them. He wants to give them a better ending to this chapter of their lives, even though he knows they’ll have to kill him for his crimes. It won’t do anything for him, not really. Not even for Crete. But he wants to save them, one last time.

She glances at Hades, who smiles for the first time since the trial began. He says that while he cannot give Minos what he deserves, not with his contemporaries so angry with him, he can offer him a choice so very few humans ever achieve. He can send him to another Underworld, held by different gods, and offer him paradise somewhere else. He will never see his family again, not even in death, but he will have a chance to rest, and celebrate, and be happy. Or, he can stay here. He can serve two gods who will never toy with his heart, so completely under their claim that no other god would dare reach for him again, wait for his family, and help them build a kingdom here.

Minos blinks. He isn’t going to be king, not here, not with Hades right there. But it’s a chance to start over, build a place of pride, and when his family returns to him, he can give them all they deserve.

He agrees enthusiastically. He would love to help. He likes building, loves seeing Crete in full festival and laughing. And it means he gets to see his family again.

A fish-god in a wheelchair and a tail for legs wheels themself forward with a metal griffon at their side, and says that the griffon will train him. This looks already better than anything Daedalus came up with, and he’s intrigued. He reaches out to the griffon to shake their paw, only to find that they are now armour, wrapped around him, wings and tassets and gauntlets and all. The Griffon Surplice laughs a little in his ear, their head his helmet and two minds right beside each other, and he smiles.

Hades welcomes his new Spectre, Griffon Minos, and Minos finds himself immediately slammed into by something twice his size. When he gets over his shock, he realizes he’s looking at Asterius, clad in green armour not all that different from his own, and he shines.

Asterius whoops that he knew Minos would stay, that he loves him, and that he thinks Minos has always been the best to him, and that while Pasiphae isn’t here, Androgeus is, and so is Rhadamanthys. Minos starts to cry again, but these are good tears.

He’s finally home.

[sweetiejunie]

Confessions | pt.2

Summary: They both have their own confessions. Beomgyu had secrets. Yeonjun thought he was over you. But was he really?

Genre: fluff, angst

Beomgyu x reader, Yeonjun x reader (decoupling)

—.*•—

A/n: originally this was a oneshot but a lot of people have asked me for a pt2 and finally i thought of something!! And hope you like it!!💜

Pt1

=====================================

“Y/n shouldn’t be with beomgyu. She should be with me.”

.

.

.

Yeonjun felt his knees go weak, the air surrounding him stiffened. It was the first time he’d actually allowed himself to admit that. The more he thought about, the more he realised how selfish he was being. You deserved to be happy. Even if it wasn’t with him.

“Did you really mean that? What you said,” He asked taehyun.

Taehyun spoke softly, “I- i don’t know. I love you guys and i love everything we have. It’s just, sometimes it can get so stressful.”

“Have you spoke to our manager about how you felt?”

“Have you spoke to y/n?” Taehyun let out a dry laughed.

“Fair enough... but does it even matter? She’s with beomgyu, there’s nothing i can do about it anyway...”

They sat there for a while, gathering their thoughts. This talk has made yeonjun realise that in this whole situation, he had two options: he could either A) confess his feeling, which in turn means that he’ll be betraying his best friend or B) do something he hasn’t been able to, let you go.

By the time the had gone back down to the dorm, you and beomgyu had already returned. Snuggling up to each other under a shared blanket, laughing and chatting while the other three boys tried to pick a movie. He felt his heart clench at the sight, but had to pretend like he felt nothing.

“Yeonjun, taehyun, you’re back. What were you guys talking about for so long?” you greeted, smiling at them. A smile that made yeonjuns heart twist. How could u still have such an affect on him.

Soobin and Kai noticed his reaction and couldn’t help with give him a sympathetic smile.

“Oh nothing. I just wanted to get yeonjun hyung’s opinion about something,” taehyun lied on the spot.

“Come join us! We’re just about to start a new movie,” you continued, patting the spot next to you as an invitation.

Throughout the movie, yeonjun couldn’t help but notice when beomgyu would feed you snacks and lie on your shoulder. The way he whispered to you every so often and the little giggles that would escape your lips when he did so. What could he possible have been telling you? In that moment he shouldn’t have felt jealous, but he did. He felt awful, he couldn’t live the rest of his days like this. And that’s when he made the decision that he was going to do everything in his power to get over you. You were happy, and that’s all that he cared about.

A couple weeks passed and he tried to distract himself in anyway he could. To get the thought of you out of his head. Going to the practice rooms for longer hours, spending more hours in his studio or even just going out for the night and meeting new people. Getting random girls numbers just for the sake of doing so. Going on dates with girls he knew could never replace you. Was he doing all that just to prove a point? To prove that he was doing fine without you. If so, who was he even proving it to? He was acting as if he had just broken up with you all over again. Only this time, he was the only one hurting and hurting more than the first.

They say time heals all wounds. Yet for yeonjun, it felt like time was just rubbing salt into his. Forcing him to watch you, the love of his life, with someone that wasn’t him. Forcing him to jump into new relationships as an attempt to fill that void in his heart. He went on a few dates here and there, even met a nice girl named sophia, she was smart, beautiful inside and out, the complete package. But even a relationship her her ended, and once again, it was because of you.

What could he even do now? The easy solution would have been to run away and never see you again. But he couldn’t do that.

Another month passed. He continued spending his days locked away in his studio. Sitting and waiting. He didn’t know what he was waiting for, exactly. Maybe he was waiting for you to knock on his door again like you used to. Bringing him snack, wanting him to short breaks to spend time with you.

That’s when his phone lit up. A notification with the latest movie releases. Thats when he remembered, it was a tradition for you and him. Even while you were friends, you still made a pact to always see the newest release marvel movie together. And just his luck, a new one was being released later that week. So, he asked if you wanted to see it together when it premiered. That could have been his chance. His chance to tell you how he felt, how he’s always felt. He just didn’t realise it until you were completely gone. Or at the very least, spend some time with you again.

— ♡ time skip ♡ —

It was D-day, and yeonjun spent his time planning everything out perfectly. Yet, he was nervous. He truly did want you back, but at the same time, could he really get himself to cross that line? Was he really about to betray one of his best friends? Nonetheless, that was something he could figure out later. He had planned to meet you at your favourite diner, the one that was near the theatre. It wasn’t the busiest of eateries, which made it perfect for you to catch up again. Maybe he could even try to ignite any sparks that still flew between you. But that was all just hopes he had made up in his head.

He dressed simply, a basic black fleece coat over a plain shirt with jeans. Topped off with the cologne he remembered to be your favourite. He treasured anything and everything he could remember about you. He didn’t want to go overboard though, this wasn’t a date, he had to remind himself there were boundaries. As much as it pained him, you weren’t his anymore.

When he arrived at the diner, everything was just like how it used to be, the jukebox in the corner, the neon signs hung on the walls. It all brought back memories. Memories that were turning more bittersweet if anything. He remembered all the milkshakes you shared, all the shy laughter when you first started dating, all the times you had random dance battles in the middle of the diner. Everything came flooding back to him. And he missed all of it.

As the night continued, it couldn’t have gone anymore perfect in yeonjun’s eyes. Would he be able to rekindle his lost love, and get back the one that got away? He had spent the entire evening with you. From dinner to the movie and now he was even walking you home. Just like the old times...

“What do you mean you got kicked out of ikea?!” He asked, laughing at the conversation you were having. “How does one even get kicked out of ikea, of all places.”

“Well, you clearly have not met my friends well enough yet,” you chuckled.

“To be fair, I haven’t had many opportunities to meet them,” he defended himself. “But I’m sure they’re just wonderful people, to be able to find way to get kicked out of ikea.”

“Hey, dont insult my friends,” you laughed.

Yeonjun felt at ease. At least he could still talk freely with you and joke around like usual. He loved the random conversations he had with you. Every one of them just made him fall more in love with you.

After walking for a while more you stopped in front of your apartment building, “so this is me. Um, thanks for tonight. It was really fun spending time with you. I’ll see you soon, alright?”

But just as you were about to walk up to you apartment, yeonjun grabbed your arm. “Y/n, wait. I have to tell you something.”

“Hm? What is it?” You asked, sensing a change in his demeanour.

“I... i dont know if i should be saying this but... i love you.”

.

.

.

Yeonjun replayed that night over and over again. That would have been a perfect end to his night. But reality is never on your side. For the most part, everything the two of you did that night, everything you said. The entire scenario that he had been playing in his head, had happened a long time ago. That faithful night, when you went to watch your first marvel movie together, the night he walked you home and first time he told you he loved you. All that happened over 2 years ago on February the 16th 2018.

Here’s what actually happened the night of the movie. Yeonjun had gone to the bar, alone. He didn’t know what for. But he would rather be anywhere if it meant he didnt have to see you and beomgyu together. And the bar was the only place that could help with clearing his mind. So there he was, sitting at a booth on his own, the bar nearly empty. Much too early for anyone to be there as they prepared to open for the night. Him, still staring at a lonely cup of whiskey on the table with a single movie ticket to the latest marvel movie. The day before, you had turned down his offer, saying you already had other plans. And well, you and him both knew what and who those plans involved.

Right then, there were so many other thing yeonjun could have done. He could have spent his time with the other boys, playing video games with soobin or having supper and desserts with kai and taehyun. He could have went home to pay a visit to his parents, sleep in his old bed and smell his mother’s home made breakfast in the morning. He could have went to the practice rooms, see their old sets and costumes, the first place they recorded a video, the first place he met the boys that would soon become like family to him.

But none of those things was what yeonjun would have done first. What he would have done first?

If it were an option, he would have ran to your apartment, knocked on your door and confessed to you all over again, as if it was the first time.

“Y/n... I know we were over months ago. But if i could, i would rewind time. Back to when we were in love. Back to when i saw my entire future with you. Cause, you made me the happiest I had ever been. I want a second chance with you, just to have any extra moments i can with you. Even if it were just a day or even these 30 seconds before beomgyu arrives knocking on your door. I’d rather have any of that than see you with someone else. Why? Because... i love you. You may not be mine but I’m always going to love you, till the end of my days and beyond. You’ll see.”

To tell you everything he had been bottling up in himself. But could he really bring himself to go against his morals and steal you back from his best friend? He realised, from all the girls he has dated so far, even if he tried to list them all out from best to worse, there was no top three or top five. There was only a top one, you.

.

.

.

=====================================

Didn’t want this part to end with angst initially but when i wrote it, it just sort of ended this way 🥴 nontheless lmk what you think💕

Masterlist

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Will I ever stop writing things inspired by @reverseblackholeofwords‘s stuff? Probably not. I was really intrigued by one of her Ego Imagines, the one about what would happen if the Egos met Sean and Signe. I thought the idea of Dr. Iplier having a wicked crush on Signe was interesting and adorable, and then I remembered that he’s not the only Ego who’s dealing with unrequited love, and it didn’t seem so adorable anymore ;w; But it was still very interesting, so I wrote this! I guess it takes place sometime in the future where Mark actually visits the Egos more often? But also not too long after that Ego Imagine took place? Oh well. It’s under a readmore because it’s long, but it’s totally sfw. Hope everyone likes it!

By all accounts, life was going better for Bim than it had in a while. Of course he had Poppy and his garden, but there was more to it than that. Dark was actually making an effort to be civil, Amy was back to visiting frequently, and sometimes she even brought Mark along. Not to mention that Mark seemed to enjoy Bim’s company, or at least tolerate it, more than he did the company of the other egos. Bim did suppose that he was one of the least…eccentric of them all. Either way, it made him happy to have so many opportunities to talk to and really get to know the man who made him, and he never came without Amy, so that was a bonus in and of itself.

But somehow, somehow, Bim didn’t feel quite as happy as he thought he should. He was happy, sure, but he felt something strange when he saw Amy tug Mark along the halls of Ego Inc., or into the elevator, or into a chair beside her. The strange feeling flared when the two shared sweet glances, cozy embraces, or gentle kisses. The feeling kept Bim from being totally content, and he began to feel guilty. What did he have to get upset about or dislike? Everything was going perfectly. It wasn’t some impending sense of this-is-too-good-to-be-true dread, he was certain. It wasn’t jealousy, either, not exactly. He loved Amy, but he didn’t love her like Mark did. He didn’t love Mark, either, for what it was worth. Yet when he looked at the two of them together, Bim would find himself consumed by a wanting, a longing so strong that he sometimes had to excuse himself.

Soon enough, though, he realized. Mark and Amy brought up feelings he’d spent over two years trying to put away. Feelings that remained still, in the background of his mind, just out of reach unless he focused on them. Feelings which he’d so ardently tried not to focus on that it was second nature now, and the thoughts had become little more than mental white noise. But Mark and Amy amplified the static and cleared up the wayward pixels, morphing the buzzing chatter into something Bim recognized.

He didn’t want Amy, and he didn’t want Mark. He wanted what they had.

And he wanted it with Matthias.

Yes, Bim knew his real name, but it always felt odd to call him that, even in his own mind. He’d only met the man once, and never again; using his real name felt too presumptuous, too familiar. But that one meeting was enough for Bim to become smitten. Of course he’d seen all of Matthias’s videos, including the ones he did on other YouTubers’ channels, and kept a sharp eye on his notifications so he never missed a new upload from Matthias’s channel. For a long time, that had been enough. There was one channel, however, that Bim made a point to ignore, because he knew that the background fog in his mind would overtake his whole brain if he watched it. It was the reason that, during the rare times he left Ego Inc., he turned away when he saw happy couples hold hands or kiss or lean on each other as they walked down the street. For over two years, he could avoid the endless longing if he ignored those little moments, bypassed that YouTube channel.

But he couldn’t ignore Mark and Amy. They loved each other like a flower loved the rain. It was clear even when they weren’t touching or stealing glances; just the way they talked about the other betrayed their feelings for one another. Their names were sunbeams rolling across each other’s tongues, soft and bright and joyful. Amy’s already-lovely smiles got wider when he spoke of Mark, or even heard someone else speak of him. Mark, as awkward and nervous as he still often was around the Egos, visibly relaxed and let himself grin whenever Amy came up in conversation. As the days passed, the white noise in Bim’s mind cleared and got stronger, and he gleaned words from it:

I want that. I want to be looked at like that. I want to be touched like that. I want that. I want what they have. I want it with Matthias. I want that, more badly than I’ve ever wanted it before.

Once those thoughts appeared, it was only a matter of time before Bim broke his only rule, the one that kept the mental static from consuming him.

One evening, after Mark and Amy had visited and left, Bim went to his room, turned on his laptop, and opened YouTube. His hands shook slightly as he typed into the search bar:

Matt & Amanda.

Bim knew of Amanda, of course he did. He followed Matthias on other places besides YouTube, and she made plenty of appearances in those places. But it was much easier to ignore or push away a line of text or a still picture. He’d known from the beginning that he could never, never go to the channel Matthias had with Amanda. It would hurt too much to look at them together, be too painful to watch the way Matthias looked at her and spoke to her, and be too easy to imagine himself in Amanda’s shoes, to get lost in a fantasy of something that had no chance of coming into being.

But Mark and Amy unlocked that desire in him, the strange feeling of morbid curiosity, of wanting to see exactly what he was missing.

So he watched. It felt like an eternity passed as Bim watched videos on the channel. He didn’t go in any particular order, simply choosing whichever video’s title and thumbnail called to him the loudest. He watched Matthias and Amanda do challenges, travel, and relax together. He saw in their faces, their eyes, the tones of their voices how much they loved each other. He saw the deep affection and care Matthias felt for baby Luna, herself the very manifestation of Matthias’s love for Amanda. He watched the beautiful family move through life like they were sailing a calm ocean, in leisurely command of the boat, traveling to exactly where they wanted to be. Bim watched, and his heart clenched in and out, and the white noise was white noise no longer, but loud and clear and agonizing as it rolled across his mind in waves. He was only half-aware of the tears. He didn’t hate Amanda, not by any means, but he was so deeply envious of her and what she got to experience with the man of his dreams. He so deeply wished he could be in her shoes, and have the life she lived, the life she lived with Matthias, the only person Bim felt he was capable of loving. Bim watched, and he wished, and he felt his heart snap into millions of tiny fractals, infinite and desperate.

He was so overtaken by his sadness that he didn’t realize someone else was there until he heard them speak from behind him.

“Bim, are you…” Dr. Iplier, of all people, said slowly. Bim momentarily froze before closing the tab and rubbing tears out of his eyes. He swiveled around in his chair to face Dr. Iplier and forced out a smile.

“Dr. Iplier, what are you doing here?” Bim asked, attempting to shift his focus but also genuinely curious about the answer. After all, this wasn’t his floor, and while Bim and the Doctor were certainly on good terms, they weren’t quite friends, either.

“There was a lull in my shift, so I decided to take a walk to keep myself awake,” he explained, “But then I heard you crying. And you left your bedroom door open.”

Bim looked past Dr. Iplier towards the door. Ah, so he had left the door open. His cheeks reddened, but they were already so red from crying there wasn’t much of a difference.

“Look Bim, I know what you were looking at.” Dr. Iplier frowned. “That’s not good for you.”

“I just…I mean…I…” Bim stuttered, trying to figure out how to explain himself. Finally, he gave up, and abruptly stood from his chair. “I’m Bim Trimmer!!” He shouted, before moving to dash away.

“Not so fast,” Dr. Iplier muttered, grabbing Bim’s arm and stopping him from fleeing, “We need to talk about this.” He looked at Bim, eyes serious and sympathetic. “Mental health is just as important as physical health, Bim. I’m a doctor, I know what’s best.” Bim sagged slightly in Dr. Iplier’s grip and shook his head.

“There’s nothing to talk about,” he said, voice quiet, “Everyone already knows how I feel about Matthias, including you. It’s already been two years, it’s probably too late to get over it.” He looked at his feet. “Besides, it’s not like a doctor can fix a broken heart.”

“Bim,” Dr. Iplier tried again, “Whatever way you’ve been trying to deal with this hasn’t been working. What you were doing before I walked in is proof of that. You’re never going to feel any better about this if you don’t—”

Bim wrenched his arm out of Dr. Iplier’s grasp, feeling tears spring into his eyes anew. He felt it happening, something the Doctor tended to do: He would become certain of the right course of action, the correct solution, and become blind to alternatives. Bim was already strained from being barged in on and prevented from getting away, and he didn’t want to be browbeaten by some know-it-all, not now.

“It’s not that easy, don’t you understand??” Bim yelled, voice wavering with anger and sadness. “If it were, I would’ve gotten over Matthias a long time ago! But it’s not and it isn’t, and I don’t care if you are a doctor! Clearly I was wrong before, because you don’t know how I feel! I was doing just fine before…before…” A sob broke into his voice, and his arms curled around himself like a shield. “Before I kept seeing Amy and Mark together, and realizing how much I wanted what they have with each other. I thought I could ignore it, but I can’t.” The tears fell more strongly now, and his shoulders began to shake. “But I have to ignore it, it can’t…these feelings won’t ever go away so I have…I have to…” He started to cry again, much harder than before, his body trembling with emotion.

“Bim…” Dr. Iplier sighed. Bim had always been one of the more sensitive of the Egos, and seeing him upset was enough to tug at nearly anyone’s heartstrings, including Dr. Iplier’s. He took Bim’s arm again, gently this time, and pulled him into a hug. He felt Bim grip onto his doctor’s coat and bury his face in his shoulder. The other man’s sobs were so severe that Dr. Iplier felt himself trembling from the force, but he didn’t flinch or move away. Being a doctor who was used to giving bad news, he’d developed a good bedside manner. He knew that in situations like this, it was better to let the tears pass before the problem was addressed. And the more he thought, the more he realized that there was only one good way to solve this problem, and it would involve telling one of his deepest secrets. He was in no hurry to do it, so he let Bim cry until he finally burned himself out after several long minutes. Bim then pulled himself away from the Doctor to wipe away tears again, feeling a little better but also rather embarrassed.

“Bim.” Dr. Iplier took a deep breath, steeling his nerves before he continued: “I do know how you feel. I know what it’s like.” Bim blinked.

“You’re in love with Matthias, too?” he asked.

“No…” Dr. Iplier said, put out. He took another breath. “I’m in love with Signe.” His cheeks turned pink.

“Oh.” Bim murmured, now feeling bad about his earlier outburst. “I didn’t know. She visited a while ago, was that…?”

“Well, I made a fool of myself in front of her,” Dr. Iplier muttered, “So it didn’t go great. Not to mention I got to watch her walk around with her boyfriend the whole day.” He shook his head. “The point is, I know how you feel. Unrequited love sucks. But there’s ways to cope with it, ways that don’t just make you feel worse in the long run. Let me help you, Bim.”

Bim considered, then sighed.

“How do you stand it?” he asked, voice small. “It hurts to even think about it.”

“Have you even let yourself think about it?” Dr. Iplier asked. “You said you’ve been trying to ignore it all this time, but the first step is letting yourself feel it. In a healthy way—” he clarifies as Bim opens his mouth, “—that is, not by wallowing in misery. You try to keep your routine, do the things you normally do. You acknowledge that you won’t be as sharp or able to do as much as usual, and you don’t aim for that. It’s about putting one foot in front of the other, while letting yourself be sad. You can’t just make yourself feel it all at once and then push it away.” He stared at Bim pointedly. Bim looked down, sufficiently chastised.

“That sounds nice, but it seems really difficult,” he mused quietly.

“It is,” said Dr. Iplier, “I know from experience. But it works. You let yourself feel it, a little at a time…” He closed his eyes, saw Signe’s pretty face, and gently opened them again. “And eventually, you move on.”

“I don’t think I could ever stop loving Matthias,” Bim murmured.

“That’s not what ‘moving on’ means,” explained Dr. Iplier, “It just means accepting the situation, and being able to love without it hurting. I suppose the ultimate end goal is to stop loving the person, but that’s the part you can’t control. You can only control how you love them, and how you deal with that love. Some days are definitely worse than others…” Dr. Iplier remembered Signe’s visit and turned red again, “But it’s never hopeless.” He gave a soft grin. “It helps to have someone else who understands, too.”

Bim smiled back. There were tears in his eyes again, but he wasn’t quite so sad anymore.

“Yeah, I can already tell,” he said. His smile was tired from all the emotions his mind had run through over the day, but it was bright and genuine all the same. He yawned then, surprising both Dr. Iplier and himself.

“What time is it?” he asked.

“Almost two in the morning,” Dr. Iplier answered, looking at his watch. Bim was shocked to realize how many hours he’d spent watching Matthias and Amanda’s channel. No wonder he’d felt so bad, so mired in despair.

“I wonder…” he said slowly, “…If I might be better off not watching Matthias’s videos for a little while.” Dr. Iplier’s expression colored with surprise.

“That’s…very sensible of you, Bim,” he managed to reply, “I think that might be a good idea, if you think you can do it.”

“I have to at least try,” Bim said, “I know what you said about keeping up a routine, but maybe it might be better for me to take that part of my routine out.”

“I would have to agree,” Dr. Iplier said amicably. He peered at Bim closely for a long moment, who slowly became confused.

“Dr. Iplier…?” he questioned.

“Bim,” Dr. Iplier proclaimed, face serious but voice playful, “You are not dying. You’re going to be fine.”

Bim giggled, and a few happy tears managed to escape from his eyes and down his cheeks. He wiped them away, much more gently than he’d wiped away his tears earlier in the night.

“Thank you, Dr. Iplier,” Bim said, voice wispy with emotion.

“Of course, Bim,” Dr. Iplier replied, “It’s what I’m here for. Now,” he continued, “Go to bed already.” Bim laughed.

“Okay, I will, but so should you!” Bim insisted. “You work so hard all the time, you deserve some rest. There has to be someone else who can cover for you.”

“I’ll see.” Dr. Iplier phrased it like a consideration, but Bim could tell it was a promise. “Goodnight, Bim.”

“Goodnight, Doc,” Bim replied as Dr. Iplier left Bim’s room, shutting the door behind him.

As tired as he was, Bim’s heart felt lighter than it had in a long time.