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gerrystamour · 4 years ago

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the bittersweet between my teeth, Chapter 6

Written by: GerryStAmour | Gift for: @northisnotup

Some Important Notes:

I choose to believe that anything is possible in the future and that includes ridiculously quick turnaround times after near-death and also Getting Sexy New Teef bc I personally find it really hot.

The smut is only available on AO3! Link is in my pinned post! There is nothing in the smutty parts that is plot heavy, so you aren’t “missing” anything that isn’t covered in the PG-13 parts.

Nureyev is a gender euphoric trans man, as in he does not experience any dysphoria, and has not hat top-surgery, and he does not wear a binder. I use a mix of typically masculine and feminine terminology for his anatomy, particularly his genitalia, as I do for my own body as a transmasc individual.

Nureyev is never depicted with dysphoria in my fics, or having discomfort with his body because describing such a thing with a character I deeply identify with will trigger discomfort in my own body, etc.

Chapter Six [Previous Chapter][First Chapter]

- - - - - Nureyev’s POV - - - - -

Nureyev woke up slowly, his entire body feeling heavy and fatigued with a dull pain in his back and across his stomach, along with lesser pains all over his body. He swallowed and grimaced at the sensation of bandages across his throat.

The memories of the heist were slow to return to him. He could remember the sewers before entering, remembered getting to the vault and collecting the weapons. Then Nureyev remembered the Piranha, Juno coming to rescue him and the slice of pain as the knife plunged between his ribs. He remembered only flashes of their desperate escape, mostly just perfect, stupid, noble Juno refusing to leave him behind, even after discovering the wound.

Straining a bit, he could remember the sewers, laying on the ground while Juno was on his comms, panicked and pleading. The memory of Juno’s outrage at the thought of Nureyev—a thief, a murderer, a nameless criminal, a wanted terrorist—dying in a gutter like he deserved, his conviction that he wouldn’t…

“I love you, Nureyev.”

Jolting at the memory, Nureyev found himself properly awake and looking around for his beautiful detective.

Dread settled in his gut as Nureyev noticed multiple things at once. First, Juno was not anywhere to be seen. Second, he was in a hospital room, which did not bode well. Third, he had no glasses, which made it difficult to get an accurate impression on his situation.

The room he was in appeared to be either rundown or unfinished. The bed he was on felt new, however, so he was inclined to assume the latter. Swallowing thickly, he realized just how dry his throat was and looked around again.

He startled when he realized that someone had actually been sitting beside him, and Nureyev wondered how strong of painkillers he was on were. At first, with how groggy he felt and how fuzzy his vision was, he thought it was Juno, but quickly realized it was Benten.

Benten was reading a book but looked up as Nureyev moved around. He snorted a bit before standing to hand Nureyev a pair of glasses.

“Juno grabbed those for you from your hotel room,” he explained as Nureyev put the glasses on, adding, “He paid for a reservation extension, by the way.”

Nureyev attempted to thank Benten, but only a croak came out. When Benten handed him a water bottle and a straw, he nodded gratefully and took long sips. With his throat soothed a bit, Nureyev tried again and asked, “Where’s Juno?”

Benten stared at him, his expression stony before he sucked his teeth and said, “Taking care of whatever you idiots stole.”

“Ah, right,” Nureyev said with a nod, leaning back and trying not to feel disappointed. That was the smart thing to do, and Nureyev knew it. But waking up, remembering the panicked confessions, and not seeing the lady himself… “That’s good, then.”

“Don’t be too upset, Rex. He was here day and night until you were given the all-clear,” Benten said blandly at Nureyev’s sulking. “It would have been romantic, but he’s my brother, so it’s gross.”

“I’m sure,” Nureyev said with a laugh, looking around again now that he could see. Sure enough, the room he was in was unfinished, with most of the equipment missing and wires hanging from where there would someday be cameras.

“Okay, you know what? No,” Benten burst out, startling Nureyev out of his thoughts abruptly. When Nureyev looked back at him, Benten was glaring at him. “It wouldn’t’ve been romantic, because what you two did was stupid , and reckless , and so far beyond selfish, even I am disgusted with it.”

“Pardon?” Nureyev questioned, bewildered. “We were stopping—”

“Yeah, yeah, you were saving the world, whatever ,” Benten snapped, and it was at that moment that Nureyev realized there were tears in his eyes. “I’m just a little sick of hauling my brother out of gutters, covered in blood. And worse, you two and Rita hid it from me!”

“Benzaiten,” Nureyev started, but he quickly closed his mouth when he realized that nothing he could have said would be helpful.

“Like, fuck,” Benten said with a heavy sigh as he slumped back in his seat and crossed his arms over his chest. “When Juno told us to open without him, and Rita was jumpy all day and then you didn’t show, my first thought was you two dumb saps eloped—”

Nureyev actually choked a bit, blushing deeply. “I didnʼt— We wouldnʼt—”

“—That was literally my worst-case scenario, you know that, Rex? Then Juno’s call happened, and then…” Benten trailed off, gesturing vaguely at Nureyev in the bed before he pouted at the wall next to him.

“Benzaiten, I’m— There’s nothing I can say that can make up for what we did, but I am sorry,” Nureyev said slowly, carefully, and he barely refrained from flinching when Benten looked at him sharply out of the corner of his eye.

“Yeah, I know you are,” Benten said sternly, heaving a huge sigh. “Still mad as hell, though.”

“Of course,” Nureyev said with a nod before asking, “So, what happened after I passed out?”

Benten shrugged before saying, “Rita and I closed the cafe early, raced over, you were… bad , and Juno was…”

When he trailed off again, Nureyev remembered the hysterical edge to Juno’s voice just before he faded completely, and nodded.

“I called Mick, since he’s a security guard here, and he pulled some strings to get you up here,” Benten continued after a moment. “No cameras, and no records at all. Juno threw a ton of creds at the doctors and nurses. Rita’s checking constantly to make sure they keep their end of the deal.”

“Thank you,” Nureyev said after a bit, raising an eyebrow.

“It was Rita’s idea, mostly,” Benten said with a shrug of his shoulders and an eye-roll. “She heard you say ‘no hospitals’ like one of those ridiculous characters from her cheesiest streams and hatched the whole idea.”

Nureyev smiled at that and leaned back against the pillows. “Still, thank you, Benzaiten.”

“Whatever, Rex,” he replied with another eye-roll.

Nureyev actually chuckled, feeling exhaustion coming over him again. “Careful, Benzaiten. You’re almost being nice to me.”

“I’m contractually required to do anything my brother asks for twenty-four hours if he cries,” Benten said flatly. “He asked me to wait with you and ‘be nice’ when you woke up.”

Nureyev laughed out loud, tipping his head back and closing his eyes. Licking his chapped lips, he flinched when he found the gap where his teeth used to be. He pressed his tongue into the hole, and made a face, resolving to fix that as quickly as possible.

“Plus, I mean,” Benten began with an explosive sigh. “I can’t really listen to my brother sob about how much he loves a guy while he’s bleeding out in a gutter and then get right back to bullying him when he wakes up. I have some morals or whatever. Yelling at you for being stupid does not count as bullying, though.”

Nureyev froze, eyes flashing open to look at Benten sharply. “How much… did you overhear?”

“Some of it. Enough of it, I guess,” he replied with a noncommittal shrug. “Juno already tore into me about your name, by the way. I get it, my lips are sealed, I’m leaving it alone. You’re ‘Rex’ until you tell me otherwise, okay?”

“Sounds agreeable,” Nureyev said tensely, but he forced himself to relax. This was Benzaiten Steel, the love of his life’s twin brother, with whom Juno shared nearly everything. If there was another person in the galaxy Nureyev would have eventually told, it likely would have been him.

“Just don’t be too hard on him about it,” Benten said quickly. “He’s been working himself into at least three ulcers over it.”

Nureyev merely nodded before he closed his eyes again and laid back. He would think about it more later when he had the opportunity to do so alone.

Benten made an unimpressed noise. “You have to choose your meals, Rex. It’s the paper on your tray.”

Nureyev sighed and shook his head. Exhaustion was dragging on his limbs and he couldn’t be bothered to choose what awful hospital food he would have forced on him.

“Fine, go to sleep. Gonna set you up with a liquid diet,” Benten said sourly. “Nothing but smoothies and broth.”

Nureyev laughed a bit before allowing himself to drop off back to sleep.

It was the next day when Juno returned.

Nureyev was picking at his meal, having eaten everything remotely palatable while Mick sat with him, shuffling a deck of cards. They had played a few rounds of various games up until someone delivered him his meal.

He could hear Juno’s heavy boots in the hall and looked over at the door moments before the detective walked in. Seeing him again, after everything they’d gone through, took the breath right out of Nureyev’s lungs.

Juno’s clothes were dusty and rumpled in a way that made Nureyev think heʼd slept in them, and he had more than a little bit of stubble on his jaw. Nureyev remembered that Juno loved him, and a thousand butterflies took wing in his stomach. He wanted to leap out of the bed and embrace Juno, shower him with romantic verse and tell him over and over and over again that he loved him, too.

But when Juno’s eye met his, he froze in the doorway, his expression open and easy to read for only the briefest of moments. It showed relief first, and then fear before it was closed, like shutters being pulled to keep Nureyev out.

That was concerning, but he wasn’t about to jump to any conclusions.

Mick looked over and grinned, his big goofy one that was usually contagious. “Hey, JayJay! Welcome back!”

“Hey, Mick,” Juno greeted, biting the inside of his cheek but not entering the room any further. “How’s everything?”

“Everything’s great!” Mick replied, turning to scoop up his cards and put them away in their box. “Especially now that you’re back, everything’s perfect!”

“Where are you going?” Juno asked, a look of panic overcoming his expression when his big friend stood and walked toward the door.

“I mean, I was going back to work? I do actually have a job here, you know,” he replied with a full laugh, looking between Juno and Nureyev with a suggestive look. “That, and I figure you two lovebirds would like the chance to catch up.”

Before either of them could say anything, Mick was already out the door, only pausing to clap a heavy hand on Juno’s shoulder as he passed. Once the door shut behind him with a loud clap, silence fell over the room.

After a minute or two with nothing said between them, Nureyev motioned to what was left of his food. “Hungry? I’m not eating the rest of this,” he said, sneering at the remainder of his meal.

Eying what Nureyev had left on his tray, Juno snorted. “Too good for jello and applesauce, Rex?”

“Yes,” Nureyev replied flatly.

With a chuckle, Juno picked up the applesauce pouch and opened it, eating the stuff slowly while Nureyev watched him. The detective was obviously thinking about something, and it wasn’t sitting very well on his mind either. Nureyev just wasn’t quite sure how to bring the topic up in a way that would be productive with his detective.

“Juno, darling—”

“I have to check on the cafe. It's been closed for a couple days,” Juno said suddenly, furrowing his brow down at the pouch of applesauce. “Gotta make sure it’s still in one piece.”

“I—” Nureyev started, his mouth twisting with hurt but he didn’t know what to say. Despite saying he should go, however, Juno hadn’t made any move to leave which gave Nureyev some hope. “O-of course, I understand. Could we talk before you leave, dear?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Juno asked, still pointedly looking at the pouch in his hands, and Nureyev’s frown deepened.

“Well, we can start with something small. How did disposing of the weapons go?” Nureyev asked, working hard to keep his voice steady.

“Went fine, your friend isn’t very talkative,” Juno replied, still not looking at him. “Feel like he kinda overcharged for his services, but hey, I’m not about to argue with someone twice my size. Plus, seemed kind of fitting to use Pereyra’s hush-money.”

“Of course,” Nureyev said, and the sigh escaped him before he could stop it, and he asked, “Have I done something wrong, Juno?”

“What?” Juno asked, finally meeting Nureyev’s gaze with an alarmed look.

“I mean, of course, I’m struggling to think of anything I could’ve done, given that I’ve been unconscious—”

“Rex, why the hell would you think you’ve done anything wrong?” Juno interrupted and Nureyev laughed at the question.

“You have barely looked at me since you returned and were planning to leave the moment you saw I was conscious,” Nureyev listed back at him, raising an eyebrow, trying to calm the rising panic in his gut. “So, either I’ve done something, or… I don’t know, Juno. I don’t know what else all of that could mean.”

“No, Rex, that’s not—” Juno abruptly cut himself off, and just like that, the wall came crumbling down. “I’m—I fucked up, so much, and didn’t listen to anything you said. I know you said no hospitals—”

“Juno—”

“—and I know it was really selfish of me to risk your identity—”

“My love, please—”

“—But I couldn’t just let it happen like that. And then Benten reminded me about Mick—”

“Juno—”

“—and I know Benten overheard your name, I fucked up, forgetting the comms—”

“Juno! Please,” Nureyev finally managed to get in, and Juno shut his mouth with an audible click of his teeth. Nureyev swivelled his tray out of the way and looked at Juno. “Yes, I said I couldn’t go to the hospital, but you seem to have sufficiently worked around the issues I have with them. As for your other point, yes it was not ideal, someone else learning my name, but I’m not— you didn’t do anything wrong. It can’t be taken back now, regardless.”

“But Rex—”

“I’ve talked to Benzaiten about it already. Now answer this for me: would I have survived if you had not brought me here?” Nureyev interrupted curtly, and he could feel himself shaking as he waited for Juno’s answer.

Juno bit the inside of his cheek, and his eye went glassy and wet with emotion. “No,” he replied, his voice something quiet and delicate.

“Then I’m grateful you ignored my wishes, Juno,” Nureyev said with a smile, holding his hand out to reach for Juno. “Now, please, can you just come here and lay with me?”

Juno was quick with tossing the empty pouch of applesauce in the trash and removing his boots before climbing onto the bed next to Nureyev. Juno only paused in laying down to give him a kiss, deepening it with a keening whine and a swipe of his tongue, straddling his lap carefully. The rasp of Juno’s stubble against Nureyev’s face was novel and exquisite, and he almost pulled the detective in for even more.

Then Juno pulled away with a bit of a grimace, laughing at Nureyev’s puzzled expression. “Sorry,” he laughed again, not sounding sorry at all. “Feels kinda weird with the missing teeth.”

Nureyev groaned. “I’m well aware, dear.”

Juno chuckled and kissed him again. “I’m sure I can get used to it. You know, if we practice a bit,” he said suggestively, his voice dropping lower as he leaned in for another kiss. Nureyev smirked and deepened it just enough to warrant a quick nip at Juno’s lower lip as he pulled away.

“That is certainly something we can do,” he agreed, grabbing the front of Juno’s shirt and pulling him in for more.

They made out slow and easy with no sense of urgency and very little heat for some time. Juno brought his hands up to hold Nureyev’s between them, sighing happily as Nureyev licked into his mouth.

After some time passed languidly like that, Juno pulled back to grumble, “How is it you can be out cold for two days and not have just rancid morning breath?”

“They do let me out of this bed, dear detective,” Nureyev replied with a laugh. “That is actually a requirement for them to discharge me. I’ve both bathed and brushed my teeth today.”

“Right, yeah,” Juno said sheepishly. “That makes sense. So you’ll be discharged soon?”

Nureyev nodded and said, “In a few days. The wound on my back has one more round of treatment before I can resume most normal physical activity.”

Juno nodded but was startled by a very big and very loud yawn. “Oh, shit. Sorry, Rex, I’m not bored, just exhausted,” he grumbled a bit as he rubbed his eye tiredly.

Nureyev smiled sweetly at Juno, which had the detective looking at him with a wide eye and chewing on the inside of his cheek. The expression was so strange on his face, so vulnerable that Nureyev expected the shutters to be pulled any moment, but then they weren’t. Another flock of butterflies burst to flight in his stomach.

“You’re fine, darling. Come and lay down with me,” Nureyev finally said, beckoning Juno into his arms, an invitation that was immediately accepted.

Nureyev let out a contented sigh as Juno wrapped around him like an octopus, his mouth and nose pressed into his throat, against the parts of his skin that weren’t covered in bandages. Nureyev shivered at the brushing touch of Juno’s lips, at the hot breath against his neck and felt the fluttering in his gut settle as he wrapped an arm around Juno’s shoulders. Held tight in Nureyev’s arms, Juno sucked in a deep breath through his nose, seemingly holding it before slowly releasing it and burrowing deeper into the nape of his neck.

“Is everything okay, Juno?” he asked quietly, feeling his entire body relaxing with the warmth of his lover against him.

“Mm-hmm,” Juno mumbled, his voice already thick and sleepy. “I was just… just needed to check something.”

Nureyev smiled at that and turned to press his lips against the top of Juno’s head in a gentle kiss. “Juno,” he said quietly, his heart jumping when he remembered Juno’s confession again. “I wanted to ask you something.”

There was no response from the detective except for a quiet, gentle snore. Juno was sound asleep within the handful of minutes it had taken him to settle in against him, and Nureyev couldn’t have helped the smile that came to his face if he wanted to.

- - - - -

It was dark when Nureyev was woken up, and he was immediately tense. Something was wrong, and for a delirious moment he thought it was the weight holding him down that was the issue. Then the memories of the hospital, Juno returning, and both of them falling asleep together came back in a rush.

Juno twitched and let out a low groan, his fingers curled tightly into the front of Nureyev’s medical gown. He was clammy, his sweat soaking through to Nureyev’s skin, and he was shivering. Then Juno gagged, dry-heaving as he woke up and looked around wildly.

Nureyev grabbed the little bucket he had been provided by the hospital and handed it to Juno, who immediately used it with incredible enthusiasm. The whole time, Nureyev rubbed his back gently, pausing to massage the back of Juno’s neck when he was done unloading the contents of his stomach, humming quietly as the detective tried to calm his breathing. A few minutes later, after successfully staving off another bout of puking, Juno finally leaned over to place the bucket on the bedside table.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he groaned, covering his face and his voice sounded entirely too upset for Nureyev’s liking. “They come back when I’m stressed out. The nightmares, I mean.”

“Why are you apologizing?” Nureyev asked, reaching up to gently pull Juno’s hands away from his face.

Juno blinked at him as if the answer was plain as day, baffled that he would even have to ask. “I woke you up,” Juno said flatly, as if that was enough of a reason. “I woke you up, almost puked on you, and shit, I’m so sweaty—”

“Juno, dear, do you realize how low those things are on my list of priorities?” Nureyev interrupted, lifting his hands to cradle Juno’s face. “Right now, I’m worried about you, love.”

He could feel Juno’s face heat up against his palms, the detective clearly embarrassed and perhaps a bit overwhelmed. “It’s— you need your sleep, so I should go,” Juno quickly said, but before he could get up, Nureyev adjusted his hands to hold the back of Juno’s head.

“What you’re going to do, Juno Steel, is go into that bathroom and use one of the toothbrushes provided by the hospital,” Nureyev said firmly, and Juno went still next to him. “Then you’re going to come back here and lay with me again.

“You don’t have to do this, Rex,” Juno whispered, and Nureyev pulled him down so he could press a kiss to his forehead.

“Of course I don’t, Juno. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to,” Nureyev replied, sighing as he let Juno sit back enough to meet his gaze again. “If you refuse to let me do this for you, then do as I ask for my own comfort. I’m worried about you, and would very much like to hold you.”

Juno bit the inside of his cheek as he shook his head in disbelief. “Are you serious?” he eventually asked and Nureyev laughed softly.

“Of course I am, darling,” he replied, pursing his lips tightly. “Now go and brush your teeth. I expect you to come right back here.”

Juno huffed a weak laugh and as he slipped off the bed, he muttered a quiet, “Yes, sir.” Nureyev found himself a bit breathless at being called “sir” and decided that might be something for them to explore properly later.

A few minutes later, Juno crawled back onto the bed, squawking a bit when Nureyev yanked him forward by the front of his shirt. Tucking the detective in beside him, Nureyev dipped his head to capture Juno’s lips in a chaste kiss, sighing when Juno pressed up into it.

“Would it… help to talk about it?” Nureyev asked a bit haltingly when they pulled apart. He personally had very little experience with nightmares and even less with the nightmares of a loved one.

“I don’t know,” Juno replied after a bit, and he flopped down next to Nureyev, tucking his head under his chin. “They’re just about when I lost my eye.”

“Ah, I see,” Nureyev hummed, rubbing Juno’s back soothingly.

“But now you’re there,” he confessed, wrapping his arm tightly around Nureyev’s waist. “When I was so busy fussing about my aim that she got you. Keeps replaying.”

“Juno, please understand that I am incredibly grateful for you taking what time you did to aim,” Nureyev said firmly. “Also, understand that she was going to ‘get me’ whether you shot her or not.”

Juno stiffened in his arms before propping himself up to look at Nureyev’s face. “What?” he asked quietly.

“I’m not sure if this will be comforting to you or not,” Nureyev started, before sighing. “I felt the knife before you even lifted your blaster, Juno. It was likely her plan to stab me, and let me bleed out while she continued taunting you.”

At that, Juno sat up fully to meet Nureyev’s gaze properly. “Seriously?”

“She underestimated you, dear detective,” Nureyev replied, smiling. “She didn’t do it as some sort of last moment revenge on you. She truly believed she had won.”

“That’s…” Juno trailed off before chuckling a bit. “That actually is kind of comforting.”

“I should hope so,” Nureyev said with a laugh of his own. “You were amazing in there, and I cannot thank you enough for doing literally nothing I told you to.”

Juno laughed out loud and bent to kiss Nureyev, slow and searching before pulling away to snuggle in tight again.

“I’ve always had a problem with authority,” he joked around a yawn.

Nureyev chuckled at that and squeezed Juno against his side. Within a few minutes, Juno was asleep again and Nureyev was drifting off to join him.

- - - - -

Nureyev discharged himself from the hospital a day early. He had managed to convince Juno to go home early in the evening, and that he would come by the cafe the next day at dinnertime, so there was no need to visit him again. There was part of him that knew leaving Mars immediately was wiser, that staying was just asking to get caught again by Ramses or even Pereyra.

But Nureyev was fairly confident that the information dug up and subsequently leaked for both mayoral candidates would keep them busy for the foreseeable future, at least long enough to spend a couple more nights however he pleased.

And what he wanted most was to spend his last night on Mars with a cranky private investigator. He also had another appointment.

So he changed hotels to something fancier, though discreet with very few surveillance cameras in the halls, as the establishment catered to guests seeking a more romantic experience. They would not be watched, nor bothered, and the rooms all had incredible sound-proofing between units.

Nureyev decided he should go all out for his romantic evening with Juno, and rented the honeymoon suite. It was a corner suite on the highest floor, which would give them an almost panoramic view of Hyperion City and the surface of Mars beyond the dome through uninterrupted floor-to-ceiling windows. Just off the spacious living room through a set of double-doors was the bedroom and it’s ensuite.

Nureyev was particularly enamoured with the king-sized four-poster bed, which was on a raised platform and tucked right into the corner of windows. There were gauzy fabrics hanging from the ceiling and secured at points above the corners of the bed, though they only draped to curtain off the two sides of the bed facing into the bedroom. The gauzy fabric was lined with thousands of dots of gentle, amber lights that twinkled like stars.

The ensuite itself was massive, with a huge soaker tub and luxurious shower stall, both also situated against floor-to-ceiling windows.

Nureyev spent the better part of his afternoon chatting with the concierge about arrangements for the next evening and then, after asking her a few questions about local stores, he headed out to do some shopping.

The next day, Nureyev properly groomed himself for the first time since the heist, which had been… a bit of an ordeal he hadn’t anticipated.

It was the first time he had seen himself naked for any amount of time without bandages and there was a vain part of him that cringed away from himself, that squirmed at the idea of Juno seeing him like that.

The scars on his face would be easy to hide with make-up, he decided, especially the thinner ones that decorated his cheeks and the line of his jaw. The ones on his throat would be trickier, and he cursed his lack of foresight during his shopping trip the day before. He could have gotten a nice collar or something to cover them up. He would have to use make-up until he found a more suitable alternative.

It was the mess of slashes on his chest and the electrical burn scars on his abdomen that caused him the most distress, given his penchant for revealing tops. He didn’t have much in the way of sexy clothing that would hide those, and make-up wouldn’t be ideal.

What would Juno think?

But then he remembered that Juno wore his scars, if not with pride then with defiance. What would that say to Juno, if Nureyev went to such great lengths to hide his own wounds? What would that communicate to his sensitive detective?

So with a determined sigh, Nureyev got dressed without consideration for hiding anything, putting on a black, cropped top with a plunging neckline that showed off all of the jagged scars across his chest, and if not for the corset-waisted slacks he wore, the burn scar would also have been almost completely visible.

He finished his look off with a loose braid, tied off with a black ribbon, keeping his hair quite nicely out of his face.

Nureyev looked at himself in the mirror again, and hated what he saw, but he would learn to be okay with it. If Juno could, so could Nureyev.

As he left the hotel that afternoon, he stopped by the front desk to verify that the special accommodations he set up the night before were still happening, and to inform them he was leaving for the day for their convenience.

The cab ride to his first destination was short and sweet, and Nureyev asked the driver to keep the meter running, regardless of how long it took him to return.

It did not take long, as he had been promised it wouldn’t when the specialist had visited him at the hospital. It was only thirty minutes, and he was returning to the cab with a new set of teeth. The marvels of modern medicine and cosmetic surgery had allowed him to easily and almost painlessly fix the mess the Piranha had made of his iconic smile. He even paid a little bit extra to get something a bit flashier than boring old white, going instead with something that looked like rose gold, inspired by the ear cuff Juno always wore.

In the back of the cab, Nureyev was beside himself with excitement to show Juno, bouncing his knee and drumming a beat on his thigh. By the time they reached the cafe, he was about to vibrate right out of his skin.

“Keep the meter running again, please,” Nureyev said breathlessly to the driver, sliding out and walking into the cafe

Juno was behind the counter with Benten and Rita, the three of them chatting while Juno was balancing an empty serving tray on the tip of his finger. Juno was less rumpled—wearing a pink sweater-dress that exposed his shoulders and just enough of his collarbones to make Nureyev’s mouth water—though he still had quite a bit of stubble defining the sharp edge of his jaw.

Nureyev may have commented on the stubble at one point while he was in the hospital, perhaps in the middle of a heated make-out session with his detective. There was also the possibility that he had made a crude comment about where else he might enjoy feeling the burn of it. Juno had since been conspicuously lax on shaving, and that excited Nureyev greatly.

Juno looked over, and when he properly registered that it was indeed Nureyev he was seeing, his face lit up. It wasn’t a grin, but there was a way his face would shift when he smirked at him that felt like the entire sun was being channelled through it. Juno’s posture straightened and he grabbed the tray between both of his hands to avoid dropping it.

“They let you out early for good behaviour?” Juno asked teasingly, pushing a grumpy Benten out of the way so he could lean against the counter as Nureyev approached. “Thought you wouldn’t be here until after dinner.”

“I actually discharged myself last night to get a few things prepared. I also had an appointment today,” Nureyev said as he stopped at the counter. He placed his hands on the counter top and leaned close, grinning broadly at the detective.

The moment Juno saw the new teeth, his eye widened and the tray slipped out of his hands, clattering loudly against the counter before hitting the floor.

Benten let out a low, begrudgingly impressed whistle before turning a judgmental look on Juno.

Rita however shoved herself up as tall as she could get on the counter short of standing on it, letting out a high-pitched sound of excitement. Without hesitation, she grabbed Nureyev’s face with both hands and turned it side to side before squealing again.

“Wow, Mista Glass, that is so cool! And preeetty!” she gushed before gasping dramatically and letting go of his face. “They’re pretty-cool! Not pretty cool as in cooler than normal, boring cool, but pretty-cool as in they’re both pretty and cool because they’re cool and pretty!”

She barely paused to catch her breath before she smacked Juno’s arm with a stern look. “Mista Steel, aren’tcha gonna say something nice about Mista Glass’ new teeth?” she growled in a tone that she possibly thought was quiet, but the entire restaurant heard her.

Juno swallowed thickly, taking in a shaky breath before nodding. “Uh,” he began, his voice too hoarse to continue right away, so he cleared his throat before saying, “They’re, uh, they’re really great. They l-look, uh, good.”

Nureyev took a moment to bite his bottom lip, feigning shyness to show off the teeth pressing into soft flesh. Juno’s breath left him in a quick whoosh at that, his expression taking on an even more dazed quality.

“Holy shit,” Juno whispered dreamily, quiet enough that only the three of them with him at the counter could hear.

At that, Benten pulled a face and gagged audibly. “Oh, gross. Get a room,” he groaned loudly, and Juno spluttered for a moment, successfully snapped out of his stupor.

Nureyev turned a broad grin on Benten, not missing the way Juno’s eye locked on his mouth again.

“I did, in fact, get one,” he said, and turned to look at Juno again, adding, “I’m here to collect my dear detective for the evening.”

Rita actually screamed with her delight, gaining the attention of every patron in the cafe, and abruptly turned to start pulling Juno’s apron off.

“Aw, Mista Glass, how romantic! C’mon, Mista Steel, get outta here!” she commanded, growling when Juno kept knocking her hands away.

Juno bit the inside of his cheek, finally managing to get Rita to stop grabbing at his clothes. For the first time since Nureyev arrived, Juno looked unsure and Nureyev wanted to pull him into a kiss.

“I’m not really dressed for a date, Rex,” he said, and Nureyev could tell he was pulling down the back of his dress nervously. Nureyev smiled at him, feeling utterly fond of Juno in a way that was almost smothering.

“You look beautiful, radiant even, my love,” he replied and Rita made that sound of hers again, the one like a rocketship revving, while Benten groaned and rolled his eyes.

“What a line, Rex,” Benten said flatly. “Juno’s not that easy—”

“Y-yeah, okay. Yeah,” Juno interrupted, his gaze turning dreamy again as he fished the keys to the cafe out of the pocket of his dress and finished taking off his apron.

“Wow, I stand corrected,” Benten murmured, eyebrows raised as he accepted the keys from Juno. “Are you going to be home in time to open tomorrow, or should I post a sign?”

Juno glanced at Nureyev, who merely smirked at him suggestively, relishing Benten’s gag and Rita’s snickers.

“The sign might be a better idea, Ben,” Juno replied with his own little smirk before he came around the counter and followed Nureyev out.

They slid into the backseat of the cab, sitting flush together and the moment they were settled, Nureyev pulled Juno into a kiss. It was chaste, for the sake of the driver if nothing else, but he desperately wanted to deepen it. Juno, the absolute minx, tested his restraint when he dragged his pierced tongue along the seam of his lips.

However, the driver cleared his throat and Juno pulled away so quickly, Nureyev feared he might exit the vehicle entirely.

“So, where to now, Mr Rose?” the driver asked, his expression unimpressed in the rear view mirror.

Nureyev only smiled at the man’s sour look and said, “Back to the hotel, please.”

“Your hotel?” Juno asked, and when Nureyev looked at him, he was delighted to see the confused little pout.

It was obvious Juno was thinking about the seedy little hotel room he’d booked before the heist, and it was endearing that he had expected better. Nureyev smiled soothingly down at Juno, grabbing his thigh and squeezing lightly.

“Do you trust me, love?” Nureyev asked, low and quiet.

“Well, yeah,” Juno said without hesitation.

Nureyev leaned down and gave Juno a kiss on the corner of his mouth, and the detective immediately turned into it. Nureyev was almost sad that he had to pull away, lest he get carried away.

“Then trust that I wouldn’t take you to a hovel for—” he paused, realizing what he was about to say, and that it would be the first time he was saying it aloud. Nureyev took a deep breath, and said, “For our last night before I leave.”

Juno’s expression faltered, becoming deeply sad before he visibly rallied himself with a small smile. “Okay.”

When they pulled up to the hotel, Juno let out a low whistle and looked down at his sweater-dress and clunky leather boots. “Damn, Duke. Now I’m definitely underdressed,” he said, and while it was said as if it was a joke, it sounded a bit too self-deprecating for Nureyev’s liking.

Nureyev paid the cabby handsomely for being a chauffeur and got out when the doorman opened his door. Reaching back into the cab, he helped Juno slide out with a firm grip on his hand.

“I said you looked radiant, love, and I meant it,” Nureyev soothed. “And if it worries you so much, I do have something up in the room for you to change into.”

“You bought me clothes?” Juno asked him incredulously, his face the picture of annoyance but his tone lacked all heat.

“Only a few items, love, and at quite the discount, too. A steal even,” Nureyev said cheekily, kissing the top of Juno’s head and tangling their fingers together. “So don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours.”

“Duke, is this… okay?” Juno asked quietly as Nureyev led him inside by their clasped hands. When Juno tucked himself in close to his side, Nureyev looked down at him and while the detective looked unsure, there was the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips.

“This hotel is very discreet, very few cameras,” Nureyev explained, squeezing Juno’s hand a bit. “Also, we aren’t hiding from mayors, aspiring or otherwise, nor their shared criminal bodyguard.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Juno said as an adorable smile curved his lips, and Nureyev was very nearly about to bend and kiss him senseless right there in the lobby.

“And,” Nureyev began in a lower voice as they arrived at the elevators. “The staff might think it’s odd if we walked in acting like we barely knew each other.”

“And why’s that?” Juno asked, looking up at him through his lashes.

“I requested a few romantic accommodations earlier,” he replied with a smirk, pausing at Juno’s shaky inhale. “And, I did rent the honeymoon suite.”

“Are you serious?” Juno asked as the elevator dinged with its arrival, his hand twitching in Nureyev’s.

“Of course I am,” Nureyev says with a winning smile as they stepped inside. Juno’s gaze, as Nureyev expected, was immediately drawn to the new teeth. “Only the best for my beautiful lady, after all.”

As soon as the doors slid shut behind them, Nureyev was dragged down by the front of his loose and flowy shirt, his mouth captured in a hungry kiss. Juno whined, pressing as close to Nureyev’s body as he could, tongue pressing into his mouth insistently. The sudden armful of solid detective had Nureyev stumbling back against the wall, chuckling into Juno’s mouth before meeting his tongue halfway. He allowed the kiss for a few moments before he gently pushed Juno back, grinning at the detective’s dazed expression.

“Slow down, love,” he said soothingly as the elevator slowed to a stop. When the doors reopened, Nureyev took Juno’s hand again and began to lead him down the hall. “We have all night.”

“That a promise?” Juno asked huskily, and Nureyev was shocked at how slick he felt between his legs already.

“Well, I’m certainly up for the challenge,” Nureyev replied as they arrived at the door to the suite, pulling out his key and smirking down at Juno. “And I fully expect you to stay the night this time.”

“Sounding pretty confident there, Rose,” Juno teased.

“I can be quite persuasive, I’ve been told,” Nureyev replied, beckoning Juno inside once he got the door open.

Upon seeing the suite, Juno gasped and let go of Nureyev’s hand to cross the room to the windows overlooking his city.

Nureyev took the time that Juno was distracted to survey the room for his requests and remove his gloves. There was a small table set up with a tablecloth and a beautiful flower arrangement, ready and waiting for their dinner to be delivered in the next hour or so. The monitor was on, set to a station that was playing gentle, romantic music.

Overall, he was pleased with the hotel’s work and had faith the bedroom and ensuite were to his specifications as well. Joining Juno at the windows, he looked down and his breath caught at the stunned expression on the detective’s face. Juno finally turned his gaze away to look at the suite, his eye wide.

“Nureyev,” he started, and it was that moment that Nureyev realized he hadn’t heard his name from those lips in days, a realization that almost knocked him off his feet. “This is… really nice.”

Nureyev was very suddenly unsure of his plans, whether they were the right course of action or if they were more likely to scare the detective away. Juno looked overwhelmed, his eye wet with unshed tears, his bottom lip quivering a bit before he bit it lightly. Nureyev cupped Juno’s cheeks in both hands, wiping away a tear that was about to fall.

“Juno, is this okay?” he asked, truly worried he’d gone too far.

“Yeah, jeez, sorry. This is amazing, just,” Juno said with a laugh, tilting his head into one of Nureyev’s hands and closing his eye with a watery sigh. “No one’s ever done something this nice for me.”

Not for the first time, Nureyev was overcome with the urge to hunt down and strangle the life out of every single person who had deemed themselves worthy of Juno Steel’s time. They had all swept him up and they took, and took, and took from him, not once putting in the work to deserve him, leaving Juno to tear up over the bare minimum.

Instead, Nureyev stooped to kiss Juno, deep and searching, drawing the soft little gasping moans he loved so dearly from his gorgeous detective.

“Well, then I’m glad to have been the first,” he said as they parted for air. “Dinner should be arriving in just over an hour. The bathroom is just inside the bedroom if you would like to freshen up a bit?”

Juno took a deep breath and nodded, stepping out of Nureyev’s embrace. “Yeah, I’ll go do that,” he said, a bit dazed still, and when he turned to walk away, Nureyev followed him.

“You know, I’ve been running around all morning, so I think I’ll get cleaned up as well,” he said with a cheeky grin, the expression widening at Juno’s sceptical snort.

“I doubt we have time for both of us to take a shower, Nureyev,” Juno said.

“I’m sure we could think of some sort of arrangement, love,” Nureyev purred suggestively, thoroughly enjoying the confused look on Juno’s face when he glanced back.

“What the hell does—” he began, but at Nureyev’s smirk, his expression went slack with realization, an expression Nureyev found as beautiful as it was priceless. “—Oh.”

Juno swallowed thickly and stammered, “Y-yeah, I mean sure—yeah, we can do that. Totally.”

Nureyev smiled wide when Juno cut himself off shyly, biting the inside of his cheek. Juno glanced at the new teeth again, and Nureyev took that moment to drag his tongue lightly across the points of them. Juno took a shuddery breath before grabbing his hand and dragging him to the bedroom.

The opulence of the bedroom actually tripped Juno up a bit, Nureyev running into him when he staggered to a halt with a gasp.

The curtains around the bed were freed from their tie-backs, and the twinkling lights in the billowy canopy were turned on. The gauzy fabrics obscured the view of the bed and windows beyond by quite a bit, but Nureyev did like that they wouldn’t offer complete privacy.

Taking a deep breath, Juno continued into the ensuite, only to come to an abrupt halt all over again.

The room was lit up in the gentle, amber light of the chandelier hanging above the huge round soaker tub to their left. It was set into a ledge which sat against the massive windows overlooking the city. The tub was already full of steamy water, and there was a near-solid layer of rose petals across the surface. The petals were also scattered across the edge of the tub, the window ledge, and the floor around it.

“Jeez, Nureyev. Are there any roses left in Hyperion City?” Juno all but whispered next to him, and he flushed deeply.

He had requested a romantic set-up for the evening, certainly, but he had expressed that his date would not appreciate a spectacle. The concierge had confirmed a subtle, understated romantic feel, and Nureyev shuddered at the thought of what the full romantic package would have looked like.

Nureyev turned to defend himself and saw the expression on Juno’s face. His eye was wide with wonder and delight, as well as something intense like yearning— no, it was love that overtook Juno’s expression. Nureyev was winded when he realized that Juno loved it, every part of it, right down to the floral massacre in the bathtub. The sass was an attempt at deflecting, at trying not to let on just how much he wanted it.

With a tug of their clasped hands, Nureyev spun Juno into his embrace and dipped down for a searching kiss, hands twisting in the knit of Juno’s dress. Juno whined and opened for him, pushing up onto his toes with his hands holding Nureyev’s biceps. They stood flush together, mouths moving slow and perfect, and Nureyev sighed when Juno’s tongue pressed against his own, the piercings sending a thrill through him.

Nureyev pulled back to catch his breath, and Juno tipped back onto his heels to stare up at him, dazed and smiling. He took in the face of his detective, his gaze lingering on the plain black eyepatch for a few moments before lifting a hand questioningly. It wasn’t even particularly important to him if Juno wore the eyepatch or not—that was Juno’s decision, and his decision only. Nureyev only figured that it would be an inconvenient obstacle in the bath.

Juno sucked in a sharp breath as Nureyev’s fingers lightly touched the eyepatch, and Nureyev waited for a sign to continue or back off. There was a beat before Juno gave him a quick nod, and Nureyev slowly lifted it off, tossing it onto the vanity.

Turning back to his detective, Nureyev took in the full view of Juno’s face for the first time since meeting him.

Nureyev found himself surprised to see that Juno still had his natural eye. For whatever reason, he had expected the eye to have been completely removed, but that was not the case.

“They were able to save the eye itself,” Juno muttered quietly, tensely as if hearing Nureyev’s thoughts. “Couldn’t get the vision back.”

Nureyev nodded with a comforting smile and looked his face over, really taking it in and cataloging each new thing.

There were three very distinct scars running vertically over the eyelid. Two of them were quite shallow and short, just enough to have drawn blood and cause pain, but minimal permanent damage. The third, however, was deep and jagged, starting just under Juno’s brow and ending just about his cheekbone. While the eye itself had been salvaged, it was murky where the scarring and blood vessels had formed over the damaged iris and pupil.

The injury would have been brutal, the pain immense, and for a moment Nureyev was deeply disappointed that the Piranha had been given a quick execution.

Juno’s breathing quickened as Nureyev took his time, his eyes glancing down before he began to turn away, biting the inside of his cheek. Nureyev made a small sound, a gentle tsk as he cupped Juno’s jaw with both hands and turned him back to meet his gaze. The detective was shaking, waiting for Nureyev’s reaction and it was obvious he expected the worst.

And Nureyev wasn’t sure he could blame Juno; if anything Piranha had said about this supposed fiance of Juno’s was true, he had every reason to fear such vulnerability.

Slowly, Nureyev bent to place a gentle, lingering kiss to Juno’s cheekbone, waiting out the bout of shuddering breaths. The moment Juno released a soft sigh, and the tension leaked out of his shoulders, he moved his lips to the corner of his eye. There he waited again, humming happily when Juno almost immediately tilted his head back, and leaned his body closer to Nureyev.

Nureyev dropped a hand to wrap around Juno’s back to hold him firmly, soothingly, and gently brushed a gentle, barely-there kiss to Juno’s scarred eyelid.

“You’re gorgeous, my love,” Nureyev breathed, and he could feel tears pricking behind his eyelids with the ferocity of his emotions for Juno. “What did I do to deserve this?”

Juno made a soft, almost wounded sound before he tipped his head back and surged up onto his toes to capture Nureyev’s lips again. With a happy sigh, Nureyev gathered Juno up into his arms, pressing closer and deeper, wanting to taste and feel Juno as much and as quickly as possible. He was overwhelmed by the way the detective clung and squirmed against him, making soft and desperate sounds against his tongue.

Nureyev pulled back with a groan and dropped his mouth to Juno’s shoulder, exposed as it was with the open panels of his dress, and bit it lightly. Juno gasped, tipping his head back with a shudder, and Nureyev let go to place an open-mouthed kiss against the spot, lapping at it soothingly as Juno let out a sob.

He startled at the metallic tang of blood and pulled back to check on Juno. There were two cuts, each tiny enough to have stopped bleeding already, but Nureyev still cursed himself under his breath for being reckless.

“I’m sorry about that, my love,” he said sheepishly, kissing the spot soothingly again. “These new teeth are quite sharp.”

“Yeah, they are,” Juno sighed dreamily, and when Nureyev properly looked at him, the detective appeared perfectly blissed out. “They’re amazing.”

Nureyev raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh, are they?” he asked with a smirk, and at Juno’s rare, unrestrained grin, Nureyev pressed in for another searching kiss.

- - - - -

They sat in the bathtub for some time, slowly making out while they caught their breath after their impromptu romp. Nureyev was floating above the clouds it seemed, weightless and blissed-out with his lady in his lap and in his arms.

Juno made a small sound in his throat at one particularly languid pass of Nureyev’s tongue and squirmed against him. Heat was building again, and Nureyev was happy to be swept away by it again. He knew there was a reason not to, but he couldn’t be bothered to remember it when Juno shifted to straddle his lap, sitting flush to his front and playing with his tits idly.

“The hell was that?”

Nureyev actually whined when Juno wrenched away from his mouth, and he chased after the kiss. His lips found Juno’s throat instead, which was perfectly fine for him.

“Duke, knock it off, I heard something!” Juno hissed and that caught Nureyev’s attention.

Pulling away, Nureyev and Juno sat quietly for a few moments, listening to the sound of movement in the living room. At a sound that was clearly the clinking of cutlery and crystal, Nureyev cringed.

“That is likely the serving staff,” he said slowly, tipping his head back against the cushioned lip of the tub and closing his eyes. “Delivering our food.”

“Duke… did you close any of the doors coming in here?” Juno asked quietly, drawing the question out and pulling a chuckle from Nureyev.

“I did not,” he confessed. “I foolishly had not planned for us to have… appetizers, so to speak.”

“So they heard at least some of that?”

There was something odd in Juno’s tone, and Nureyev opened his eyes again to meet his gaze, worried that Juno was upset. “It’s entirely likely,” he replied carefully.

Nureyev did not miss the look of intense interest that crossed Juno’s face, and he was a little shocked that the detective would be inclined toward a bit of exhibitionism. Then again, he thought, Juno had been the one to wear fancy lingerie to work under a sweater-dress that barely covered his ass. Excitement pulsed through Nureyev at the thought of Juno wanting to show off a bit, about taking Juno where they might get caught, where they could be heard and possibly seen.

He quickly filed that away, however, taking a deep breath to calm himself before he got too hot again.

“Perhaps we should wash up while we wait for them to leave?” Nureyev suggested, and Juno nodded quickly, smiling openly at the thief.

They took their time wiping each other down, slowly kissing while they did. Nureyev paid special attention to Juno, keeping his touches light and chaste, though their intent for later were quite clear. Juno leaned heavily against him, accepting the pampering with a sigh while he mouthed at Nureyev’s pulse.

When they had finished up, Nureyev cradled Juno’s cheek gently and smiled lightly when their gazes met again. Juno leaned forward with a sigh, and Nureyev happily accepted the slow, sweet kiss, wrapping his detective in his arms loosely. It was utterly perfect, and Nureyev almost cursed when the noises from the living room quieted and they heard the door to the hallway close.

“I think it is safe to get out now, dear,” he murmured against Juno’s lips, gently pushing him away and encouraging him to stand up.

Juno grumbled as he did, unclipping the collar of his harness and peeling it off of himself. Nureyev watched Juno move around the bathroom in all of his naked glory with an appreciative eye as he got out of the tub.

“I have something else for you to wear this evening,” Nureyev said as Juno moved to grab his sweater-dress off the ground, touching his arm lightly and smiling when the detective looked up at him questioningly. “It’s in the closet just inside the room. I’ll meet you at the dinner table.”

Juno blinked up at him, a bit dazed by the gentle commands, and nodded as he returned the smile.

Nureyev watched the detective leave before he turned to the cabinet in the bathroom, where he kept his own outfit for the evening.

It could hardly be called an “outfit,” though.

After seeing Juno in his harness on their first date, Nureyev simply had to get his own, a sleek black and gold number that had straps and the gold detailing all the way down to mid-thigh. The embroidered design decorated his abdomen with a chevron that ended just below his sternum, framing his pelvis along the outside edge of the piercings lining his hips.

Over the harness, Nureyev pulled on a short, sheer black robe which tied shut at the waist with a thick black ribbon. The entire back of the robe was lace and completely see-through, showing off all of the straps of his harness where they hugged his pale skin.

Slipping his glasses back onto his face, Nureyev looked around the room and made a face at the smudges, huffing with some annoyance. He picked his pants up off the floor and dug for the cloth he kept specially for cleaning them, cursing his hoarding tendencies for the first time in his decades-long career. After a few too many moments of struggling, Nureyev made a small sound of triumph when his fingers finally closed around the little scrap of material.

Wiping his glasses clean and putting them back on, he completed the ensemble with a pair of black silk slippers. Then, fixing his braid, Nureyev walked out to the living room to join his lover.

Nureyev was nearly winded at the sight of Juno as he stood by the windows and looked out over Hyperion City in the long, sleeveless robe Nureyev had bought him. The fabric was gauzy and pale pink, sheer enough to see the outline of Juno’s legs through it with the neon of the city shining in on him.

Juno must have heard him and turned around a bit with a warm smile. Nureyev could see a hint of the new harness he procured for Juno through the V of the robe, pink and cream flowers decorating his chest and ending in a pretty collar of flowers at the base of his throat. The robe itself was tied by three delicate ribbons at the thick panel of pink and blue flowery lace just above Juno’s natural waist.

Nureyev wanted nothing more than to untie those little ribbons and devour Juno.

When he finally snapped himself out of his own thoughts, he realized Juno was staring. Their gazes met in the next moment and they both swallowed thickly. Juno’s expression was so beautiful, full of want and love, that Nureyev was ready to forgo every plan he had to leave the next day and stay.

Juno cleared his throat and he glanced away. “The hell do you have such long legs for, Nureyev?” Juno asked, his tone so offended and accusatory that Nureyev couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him.

“And why are yours so thick and enticing?” the thief countered, looking pointedly at where he could see Juno’s gorgeous thighs through the opening of his robe.

Juno merely bit the inside of his cheek, and the smirk he wore was tinged with something distinctly pleased.

Nureyev motioned at the table set with their dinner and asked, “Care to join me, dear?”

Juno smirked and crossed the room. “Thought you’d never ask,” he teased and sat down.

Their dinner was quite lovely, filled with casual chatter, laughter, and more than a few glasses of champagne. Juno looked so happy and relaxed across from him, smiling and laughing openly. Nureyev couldn’t help but watch him dreamily as he animatedly told a story from his childhood.

Juno looked so beautiful in the dim, amber lighting of the living room, and Nureyev’s heart ached with the weight of knowing he could not keep him.

Nureyev remembered the pleading “I love you’s” from the sewers as Juno ended his story, and he placed his glass on the table.

“Juno, I distinctly remember I had asked you to accompany me to a gala,” Nureyev started, drawing it out only in part to enjoy the way Juno pouted. “I had done so with the hope that I would have the honour of dancing with you.”

Juno cringed. “Yeah?”

Nureyev nodded and stood, his gut churning with anxiety about what he was about to do for the first time that evening. Offering his hand to Juno, he asked, “May I have this dance?”

“Here?” Juno asked, biting the inside of his cheek. “Now?”

“There’s music, there’s space, and there’s two of us,” Nureyev replied, smiling winningly down at Juno, even as his stomach roiled. He was only comforted a small amount by Juno’s hungry look at his new teeth. “So why not here? Why not now?”

Juno made a face of mock disapproval, but accepted the offered hand and allowed Nureyev to tug him in close. They were hardly dancing, only holding each other and gently rocking, but for Nureyev it was perfect. When he looked down at the detective, he could see tears in Juno’s eyes, belying once again just how much he loved it. It only took a few slow turns for Juno to melt completely against Nureyev with a sigh, resting his ear against the thief’s chest.

They danced together quietly while Nureyev contemplated how best to bring up what he heard in the sewers. He didn’t want to scare Juno off, but Nureyev couldn’t leave Mars without telling the beautiful detective the depths of his own feelings.

“Juno, I wanted to ask you about something,” Nureyev started tentatively, and frowned when Juno tensed in his arms.

“Mm-hmm?” Juno prompted, and Nureyev really wished he’d started this when he could see the detective’s face.

“Well, it’s more I would like to tell you something, but,” he babbled a bit nervously before he took a deep, calming breath that did nothing to help calm him, and said, “I remember hearing you say something in the sewers before I passed out.”

Juno went rigid and pulled back, though they did not pause in their dance. Nureyev’s stomach twisted when he realized that Juno had that unreadable expression on his face that he’d only seen once before.

When he had told him his name and confessed to working for the people who ruined his life.

“You do?” Juno asked, his voice flat and Nureyev realized too late he had brought it up all wrong and began scrambling internally for the words to defuse the situation.

“Yes,” Nureyev said after taking a deep breath. “I was still lucid enough to hear you, when you said you lo—”

“Shit, I didn’t—” Juno hissed, pulling out of the embrace, and Nureyev let him. Then he growled at himself, “Shit, Steel, there you go ruining things again.”

Nureyev stepped forward and gently grabbed Juno’s hand. “Juno, just let me finish—”

Juno wrenched his hand away and looked around the room. His expression was so intensely sad for just a second that Nureyev felt his own eyes prickle with tears. Then the shutters behind Juno’s gaze slammed down, and when Juno’s eyes met his again, he saw anger.

“I always do this, get too attached, too soon and then—” Juno muttered, mostly to himself before cutting off with a bitter laugh and eye-roll. “That’s why you did this, isn’t it?”

“Well, the short answer is yes, Juno, but—”

“All of this, it’s all just a joke. Or I’m an easy lay until you find the next stupid sap on some other stupid planet who’ll spread their legs for you,” Juno spat, but then his expression changed, filling with something like humiliation. “Or worse, you felt bad.”

“Juno, please—” Nureyev began, reaching for the detective again, frustration building in him when Juno stepped away from him. For how intelligent and logical he knew Juno to be most of the time, Nureyev was genuinely surprised by his commitment to jumping to the worst possible conclusions if the truth meant happiness for him.

“That’s it, isn’t it,” Juno cut him off again, and though he worded it like a question, it was spoken as an accusation with such bitter anger that Nureyev almost flinched. “You feel bad for me because I was stupid enough to fall in lo— fall for you in two weeks like some fucking teenager. About what the Piranha said about my ex. About my eye. All of it.”

Nureyev’s thoughts were swirling as he felt everything falling apart. He loved Juno deeply and fully, and he had desperately needed him to know it, but now their last few hours together were unravelling because he tried to say it. He berated himself for his impulsiveness, for jumping the gun and breaking the fragile truce he’d come to with Juno’s sense of self-worth.

He wanted to drop it and ask Juno to forget he had said anything, but the longer Nureyev said nothing, the surer Juno became in his conviction.

Tears brimmed Juno’s eyes when Nureyev met his gaze again for just a moment before he strengthened his glare.

“Admit it, Nureyev,” Juno demanded, crossing his arms over his middle.

Nureyev reached forward to grab Juno’s hand with both of his and held tight when the detective tried to pull it away again. “Juno, I promise—”

“Just admit it, Nureyev!” Juno all but growled, fighting the grip on his hand.

“You won’t even allow me a word in edgewise, Juno, even for that much!” Nureyev snapped, not quite yelling but close to it, and Juno’s mouth shut with an audible click.

Nureyev softened, pulling Juno closer and cradling his jaw gently in one hand while the other wrapped around his waist. He held tight when Juno made a half-hearted attempt at breaking free, and after a few moments Juno’s breath left him in whoosh.

When the detective relaxed almost completely against him, Nureyev felt hopeful that he could turn this evening around for both of them.

“You are so clever, so good, and absolutely gorgeous, Juno,” Nureyev said fondly. “You are also frustratingly committed to self-sabotage, love.”

Juno pulled a face, and he looked almost embarrassed. “What the—”

“No, I’m talking now, detective,” Nureyev said sternly, and Juno instantly closed his mouth again. “Do you truly believe I would do all of this for you as a… a pity fuck?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time, Nureyev,” Juno snapped. “Had a guy almost marry me, and it turned out he only stuck around as long as he did because he felt bad for me.”

Nureyev felt rage wash over him at that, wanting to know the name and last known location of Juno’s former fiance. Perhaps this was information he could get from Benten or Rita before he left, he thought briefly but dismissed it in favour of focusing on the conversation at hand.

“Juno, I would never do that to you,” he said instead, tone gentle and earnest. “This isn’t a pity fuck, I’m not using you, I’m— if you wanted to leave right now, I wouldn’t stop you. You could walk right out that door, and that would be the end of it. You’ll never hear from me again.”

Juno bit the inside of his cheek and glanced around. For a heart-stopping moment, it looked like Juno would actually pull away and get changed. Nureyev was prepared to stand by his promise, but he felt gutted at the mere thought of having to.

Then Juno sighed and closed his eyes, tilting his head to lean into Nureyev’s palm, and asked so quietly Nureyev almost couldn’t hear him over the music, “What the hell else is this, then?”

Nureyev lifted his other hand to cradle his face in both, lifting Juno’s gaze to his own again. “I’ve done all of this—the room, the clothes, the dinner—as well as given you my name, Juno, because,” Nureyev paused to take a deep breath, “I believe I’ve fallen in love with you as well.”

Juno sucked in a harsh breath through his nose, a tear falling as he quietly asked, “W-what?”

Nureyev wiped the tear away with this thumb with a gentle smile. “I love you, Juno. I thought that much was obvious since our first night, but I suppose you could benefit from hearing it being said.”

“B-but you— that— you barely know me,” he stammered, trying to look away but Nureyev held fast.

“You know even less about me, Juno,” Nureyev pointed out with a raised eyebrow. “Yet you love me?”

“That’s different,” he said stubbornly, and Nureyev’s heart broke.

“How is it different, Juno?” he asked gently. “If you truly believe that, help me to understand it.”

Juno let out a gusty sigh and his eyes teared up even more. Seeing both eyes—one a deep blue and the other murky white—glassy with unshed tears had rage boiling in his gut all over again. He wanted to hurt every single person who taught someone as beautiful, and good, and caring as Juno to feel shame and guilt for being told he was loved.

And suddenly Nureyev understood why Juno couldn’t readily accept his confession; Juno saw himself as inherently unworthy of love and affection while giving himself completely to everyone, hoping they would finally see he had something to offer. That was where it made sense to Juno that he could fall in love with someone he barely knew, but those feelings could not be reciprocated.

“It’s just different,” Juno repeated firmly and with such finality that Nureyev knew he couldn’t push for a proper answer without damaging something between them beyond repair.

So Nureyev stepped closer to Juno instead, their bodies pressed flush together again. “Do you trust me, Juno?” he asked, stroking both of the detective’s cheeks with his thumbs.

“Yes,” Juno said without hesitation.

“Do you trust that I wouldn’t lie about something important?” he asked, and when Juno’s expression twisted, he added, “If we were having any other conversation right now, would you trust I was being honest with all of the important details?”

“Yeah,” Juno answered quietly, almost reluctantly.

“Then allow me to put things into perspective for you,” Nureyev said earnestly, meeting Juno’s gaze and holding it. “You are the first person to have learned my real name with my consent in twenty years.”

Juno took a shaky breath, and though his expression was still sceptical, it was also so soft. Nureyev could see that Juno wanted to believe everything, that he wanted to accept what he was offering, so Nureyev continued.

“Do you think a master thief would have risked courting you the way I had just for fun?” Nureyev asked, and did not wait for Juno to respond before he wrapped an arm around his waist. “I have given you the key to a past I’ve tried to bury, as well as the very thread that could unravel my entire career for the past twenty years.”

Juno looked up at him, his expression unreadable as he lifted a hand to cover Nureyev’s still cradling his cheek.

“Look me in the eye and tell me none of that means anything, Juno,” Nureyev offered, and shivered when Juno closed his eyes and turned his head just enough to press his lips to the middle of his palm. “I wouldn’t give any of that to just anyone, Juno.”

Juno was quiet for what felt like an eternity, his eyes closed and breathing softly against Nureyev’s palm. Eventually, the detective sighed and kissed him gently before turning to meet Nureyev’s gaze.

“You’re about to sign up for one hell of a time trying to convince me, Nureyev,” Juno said lightly, and though it was said as a joke, Nureyev could tell he was also completely serious.

Nureyev smiled broadly and stooped to kiss Juno, sweet and chaste.

“Then I gladly accept that challenge, starting tonight,” Nureyev said against Juno’s lips before kissing his way up his cheek, taking a small detour to press a light kiss just below Juno’s right eye. He finished his journey at the hinge of Juno’s jaw and whispered, “I love you, Juno Steel.”

Juno exhaled sharply and sobbed, angling his mouth up for the searching, needy kiss Nureyev had for him.

“I love you…” Juno whispered when they pulled apart for air, and very quietly, almost reluctantly, he added, “Too. I love you, too.”

The quiet concession, even if it was clear he didn’t quite believe it but was willing to try, made Nureyev’s heart pound and butterflies burst to life in his gut. Just hearing those three words again, this time when he was meant to hear them and he wasn’t knocking on Death’s door, brought tears to Nureyev’s eyes.

It was at that moment when Nureyev realized, or allowed himself to realize, that he hadn’t let himself get close enough to anyone since Mag to be loved. He kept himself unreachable and unknowable for twenty years, leaving Mag as the last person to have said they loved him and meant it.

Several moments of heart-stopping terror followed that revelation, and Nureyev wanted to run from it. He did the calculations instantly; he knew the flight schedule for every ship off of Mars by heart for the next week and a half, and with a good distraction, he could catch one within the hour. His fingers itched for his comms and he instinctively began to slip out of Juno’s arms, pretty words and a prettier lie already on the tip of his tongue.

Juno pulled him in tighter, however, clinging to him as he brought their lips together again, and Nureyev was shaken from his thoughts.

“Shit,” Juno all but sobbed against his lips, laughing wetly as tears fell down his cheeks. “I love you, Nureyev.”

Just like that, Nureyev dumped every contingency plan and escape route he had drawn up. There Juno was, giving him everything he had, and Nureyev was thinking of leaving him with nothing. Master thief though he may be, Nureyev was determined to not become one of the people to steal Juno’s heart. He would make a fair trade for it, give himself to Juno, and share the heartbreak of their parting.

Nureyev recognized the desire to run, to leave and never look back, but he knew that he would never be able to compartmentalize his love for Juno.

At Juno’s shivery whine, Nureyev hauled him up into his arms and groaned when Juno’s legs locked around his waist. With one arm around Juno’s waist, and his other hand holding his thigh, Nureyev stumbled in the direction of the bedroom. Juno’s hands were in his hair, messing his braid up and pulling on the freed strands, and Nureyev couldn’t help the soft, needy sounds he was making. Losing focus and rapidly losing his balance, Nureyev stopped just outside the bedroom, and pinned Juno against the wall next to the double-doors, licking deep into Juno’s mouth while he slid his hand up to grope at his ass.

When Juno turned his face away to catch his breath, Nureyev latched onto his throat, kissing, biting, and licking the length of it, paying extra attention to the underside of his jaw when Juno’s cries grew higher in pitch.

“N’reyev, the bed,” Juno whimpered and Nureyev moaned his agreement into the bruise he had just worried into Juno’s skin.

After a few more stumbling moments and close calls, Nureyev found the bed, which was tall enough that Juno was almost sitting on it already when he let him go. As he stepped back a couple paces, Juno looked up at him with eyes still glassy with unshed tears, but the softest smile Nureyev had ever seen on his face. Juno reached out to hold Nureyev’s hand, as if needing some sort of physical contact and Nureyev could understand.

Stroking the back of Juno’s hand with this thumb, Nureyev asked, “How do you want to spend the rest of our evening, my love?”

With a shiver, Juno shifted onto his knees to undo the belt of Nureyev’s robe and admired the view as it fell open. Nureyev shuddered a bit as the silky material slipped down his arms and pooled around his feet. Juno pressed in for another kiss, wrapping one arm around Nureyev’s shoulders and walking the other down his stomach teasingly.

“Think it’s pretty obvious what I want, Nureyev,” Juno replied cheekily as his fingers reached his lower abdomen.

“Use your words, dear,” Nureyev scolded lightly, grabbing Juno’s wrist gently. “Or you get nothing at all.”

Juno huffed, but it had no heat to it. Nureyev did not doubt that Juno was a bit frustrated—used to being tipped over and tumbled without ceremony as he was—but he also knew Juno thoroughly enjoyed being told what to do.

“Do I have to do this every time?” Juno asked with a pout.

“With me?” Nureyev replied with a chuckle, stooping to kiss Juno’s cheek. “Yes.”

Juno shivered and nodded, chewing the inside of his cheek before he pressed up against Nureyev, both arms around his shoulders as he untied the ribbon holding Nureyev’s braid together.

“I-I want you to fuck me into this mattress until the neighbours complain,” Juno whispered in a bit of a rush, and Nureyev’s breath hitched.

“The sound-proofing in this hotel is almost absolute, dear detective,” Nureyev responded huskily.

Juno laughed lightly before looking up at Nureyev coyly through his lashes. “I’m sure it is,” he said softly and deliberately.

Nureyev groaned and recaptured Juno’s lips, bringing both hands up to cradle the back of his head and keep him there while he kissed the breath from his lungs.

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Nureyev all but growled between kisses and swallowed Juno’s excited laugh.

- - - - -

Nureyev worked to catch his breath, his arm slung around Juno’s waist so he could run his hand up and down his back soothingly. Occasionally, he would sweep his palm further to massage the muscled thigh thrown over his hip.

“Are you okay, love?” Nureyev asked around a yawn when Juno stretched with a bit of a pained sound.

“Yeah, I’m golden,” Juno said softly with a dreamy sigh, nuzzling his forehead against Nureyev’s chest before meeting his gaze with a blissed-out smile. “I’m perfect.”

“I’m glad to hear it, my love,” Nureyev hummed, stealing a chaste kiss from Juno before saying, “We should wash up before bed, though.”

Juno groaned and snuggled in closer, shaking his head with a little hmph. “Don’wanna,” he mumbled petulantly.

Nureyev laughed, just as disinterested in the prospect of getting up, but there were some general hygiene items they needed to take care of. “Come along, love, up we get,” Nureyev said, sitting up and giving Juno’s ass a sharp slap.

“Babe, if you want me out of this bed, you better knock that off,” Juno teased with a sexy sprawl, but the effect was lost when he yawned hugely.

“No offense, dear, but I don’t think either of us have the stamina to make good on any threats like that,” Nureyev laughed, and eventually dragged Juno out of the bed and into the ensuite.

The shower stall was ridiculous in its size, and set in the bathroom so one of it’s walls was just windows. The windows in the shower weren’t quite floor to ceiling, and had a tiled ledge that was about half a foot tall. There was also a safety bar that travelled along the window. The spray of the shower came from a fixture right above them, the water coming down like a perfect, warm rain. It reminded Nureyev of a rain storm he had found himself caught in the one time he had gone to earth, and Juno hummed thoughtfully when he told him as much.

Neither of them was particularly keen on turning on the lights, so they showered by the lights of the city coming through the window. Juno was looking down at Hyperion City, his city, with his hands resting on the safety bar while Nureyev lathered up a plush washcloth and began wiping his body down.

Standing flush behind Juno, Nureyev wrapped an arm around his shoulder and chest, holding him tenderly as he washed his stomach and lower. With a contented hum, he pressed a kiss to the hinge of Juno’s jaw and frowned when the detective sighed a touch too wistful for Nureyev’s comfort.

“What’s on your mind, my love?” he asked before mouthing at Juno’s throat.

“What if you could stay?” Juno asked, his tone flat but curious.

Nureyev hesitated a moment before asking, “Do you want me to answer that?”

“Yeah,” he replied after a thoughtful hum. “The honest one.”

“That would be the only one I would give you, dear detective. You’re too important and too smart for any of the others,” Nureyev sighed, and he couldn’t help the teasingly bitter tone out of his voice.

“Yeah, yeah,” Juno snorted, and Nureyev could hear the eye-roll. “You’re deflecting.”

“We would be happy for a bit, I think— No, I know we would be happy, at first that is. Then I would get bored,” he confessed in a sigh against Juno’s ear, and when he felt Juno tense in his arms, he added quickly, “Not of you, my love. Never of you. But I would go mad sitting still. Doing busywork.”

Juno chuckled, as if laughing at some private joke, but the humour didn’t quite reach it.

“Like a caged fox. Or something,” Juno supplied, and leaned his forehead against the glass.

“Exactly,” Nureyev replied quietly, a sad smile of his own twisting his mouth. “And if you could come with me?”

Though he couldn’t see Juno’s face completely, Nureyev could tell there were tears in his eyes with the way he bit his lower lip.

“I… I would be miserable without Benten and Rita,” he admitted, his voice watery. He lifted his hand to wipe a tear that fell away and Nureyev’s heart broke. “I don’t think I’d be happy without them at all, even in the beginning. I’m sorry—”

Nureyev turned Juno around and kissed him soundly, sighing when Juno opened for him readily. There was no way to measure who would hurt the most when it came time for Nureyev to leave, the one who could stay and would hate it, or the one who could leave but would suffer. But they didn’t have to think about that tonight.

Nureyev just wished they didn’t have to think about it at all.

“Don’t apologize, Juno,” Nureyev whispered when he pulled back to finish washing them up. “I understand.”

A short time later, they slipped back into the bed, still damp and naked from their shower. Nureyev propped himself over Juno, kissing him breathless with lazy and slow motions. With a contented noise, Juno kissed his way to the line of Nureyev’s jaw, lips pausing over the raised line of the new scar there. Nureyev shivered a bit when Juno pressed his fingers against his chest, gently feeling the jagged lines before sliding down to press his whole palm to the burn on his abdomen.

When he didn’t move his hand any further, Nureyev pulled back to look at Juno’s face.

Juno was thoughtful, looking down at the lines of his scars, stroking the burn gently with a furrowed brow. Nureyev reached up to brush his thumb across Juno’s cheekbone, below his blinded eye. The detective almost flinched away as if the touch burned before he settled and leaned into the touch.

“What are you thinking about, love?” Nureyev asked, dropping a soft kiss just below his eye.

Juno shivered under the gentle affection with a little sigh. “Are you going to get your scars reduced?” Juno asked after a bit, scrunching his face up adorably when Nureyev moved his lips to the scar on the bridge of his nose.

“Why would I?” Nureyev asked, pulling back and meeting Juno’s gaze.

The detective shrugged, glancing away and chewing his cheek. “Your whole anonymity thing?” Juno offered in a quiet mumble. There was obviously more to that thought, but Nureyev wouldn’t pry.

“Going under for surgery is risky, so I typically avoid doing so outside of emergencies,” Nureyev replied with a small smile. “I’ll simply cover them as needed if I must.”

Juno hummed at that, nodding and moved his gaze away to look at the jagged lines that criss-crossed his throat.

“Besides,” Nureyev continued, lowering himself to lay his full weight against Juno, his legs straddling his thick thighs. He gave Juno’s eye another soft kiss, and said, “I find scars to be quite… sexy.”

“Of course, you do,” Juno said with a snort.

“I do,” Nureyev replied seriously, figuring Juno didn’t have to know how much he hated the scars at the moment, and coaxed Juno into a searching kiss.

Juno didn’t respond as readily as he had expected, so Nureyev pulled back and met his eyes again. The detective was still pensive and even a bit sceptical, which was far too serious for Nureyev’s liking.

“Juno, darling,” he prompted gently. “What’s wrong? Was it something I said?”

“No, you didn’t say anything wrong, just thinking,” Juno said almost flippantly, but he seemed to realize he was dismissing and deflecting. With a sigh he said, “I don’t… believe you when you say the scars don’t bother you, but that’s not— You didn’t— I get it, if you didn’t like them. They’re ugly—”

“They’re not ugly,” Nureyev interrupted firmly, and Juno glared a bit up at him. “If we’re to have these sorts of talks, dear, we should keep this… negative self-talk to a minimum.”

Juno snorted and rolled his eyes. “Fine,” Juno conceded and took a deep breath. “My ex wanted me to get mine fixed, or reduced, or whatever. He was really pushy about it, and wanted me to get a fake eye, too. Even just a basic glass one. Nothing fancy.”

“But you didn’t,” Nureyev encouraged.

“Well, obviously. I didn’t want to spend Pereyra’s hush money, and I just… didn’t want another surgery,” Juno said quietly. “I didn’t really get that it was such a big deal for him until he— until I ended things. Or, when he left.”

“Do you know why it was such a big issue with him?” Nureyev asked, even as he planned the very painful way he would dispatch the bastard. When Juno raised his eyebrow at him sceptically, it hit him instantly.

Juno had looked like Benten, until he lost his eye.

“It’s the past, and it should stay there,” Juno replied eventually, and hummed when Nureyev drew him into a gentle press of lips.

“I will be honest with you, Juno; I hate my scars, as they are right now,” Nureyev confessed when he pulled away, smiling weakly at Juno’s curious expression. “Perhaps once they’re less fresh, I will find them more tolerable, but I was considering covering them up before meeting with you tonight.”

“Why didn’t you?” Juno asked.

“Because of you, honestly,” Nureyev said, smiling openly at Juno. “I thought of you, and how beautiful I believe you to be, and your scars are part of that.”

“Jeez, Nureyev,” Juno huffed, glancing away bashfully and chewing the inside of his cheek. “You’re laying it on pretty thick.”

“All of it is the truth, my love,” Nureyev sighed with a grin. “I just can’t believe no one else had figured it out as well.”

“Well,” Juno started with a shrug, “I got you out of it, didn’t I?”

“I was avoiding celebrating decades of people being incredibly stupid and cruel to you, dear,” he chastised lightly, pulling a laugh from Juno.

“Go ahead and celebrate. I mean, I am,” Juno said, accepting another kiss with a quiet moan.

“Are you?” Nureyev asked teasingly, their lips still pressed tightly together.

“Little bit,” Juno sighed and Nureyev laughed, deepening the kiss.

Nureyev kept it up until Juno began faltering in returning the kisses, his eyes fluttering shut. The detective would shake himself awake every time his mouth fell slack under Nureyev’s, returning the kisses with renewed fervor and enthusiasm, hands finding their way into his hair to ground himself.

Eventually though, when Juno drifted off, Nureyev pulled away and let him sleep.

Nureyev laid next to Juno for a while, watching the love of his life sleep peacefully, partially lit up by the city beyond the windows. The next day, he knew he would have to leave, but he thanked every entity from every planet orbiting every star that must have answered whatever secret prayer he had whispered.

Juno Steel was such a gift he didn’t deserve, it had to have been divine intervention.

With a sigh and one last chaste kiss to Juno’s cheek, Nureyev lowered his head to his own pillow and quickly drifted off to sleep as well.

[Previous Chapter][Next Chapter]

#the penumbra podcast #the penumbra fanfic #junoverse #juno steel #jupeter #gerry writes #full fic #bittersweet

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lokisarmyjustinvadedmidgard · 5 years ago

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Once a year, the clones and Ahsoka would have a day of mischief. It normally happens on the last day of the year so they can finish it with a bang. Sometimes literally. It was started by Ahsoka one morning when she decided to scribble sharpie on the inside of Rex's helmet as payback for their previous mission where Rex accidently pushed her into a pile of mud. Rex, not knowing about it, put it on and went to a tactics planning meeting with Anakin, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka. When he arrived he removed his helmet and of course when he took it off, a visible mustache and glasses was Inscribed on his face. He then continued with the conversation, pointing at several places on the holomap and suggesting possibilities. Anakin was the first to notice and hid his smirk as a cough into his fist. He had some idea of who could be behind it. Then Obi-Wan so it and had to do a double take.

"forgot to shave this morning, Rex? "

Rex stopped mid sentence. "no sir. Is there any reason sir? "

"you may want to look at yourself"

Feeling his face, his fingers came back black. He then got an idea of what had happened. Looking up, he saw Obi-Wan and Anakin trying to hide their reaction. Then he look to Ahsoka who was studying the ground intensely.

"I see your padawan has been practicing her drawing skills, sir. " he said.

Anakin gave a laugh, "I assume it was payback to the mud incident"

"permission to go and clean up? "

"permission granted"

Rex then put his helmet back on to hide his face and left to clean up. By that stage word had gotten around the troops stationed there and several of the men gave Rex salutes from where a mustache would be. Rex wanting to get his men back, put flour in their helmets while they were sleeping, with help from Ahsoka who had forgiven him. Anyway the pranks began to grow that day and it spread to a annual event.

Some of the pranks include :

- flour again,

- sand in people shoes, a shiny one did this to Anakin and receive the name Taut from the way he reacted everytime Anakin entered the room

- padmè once joined in when she shaved off one of Anakin's eyebrow

- Cody changed the colours on Rex's helmet

- various arrays of flowers being sent to random clones, much to their confusion

-buckets of water

-a reprogramed battle droid performing a single sided love duet with Cody

- Ahsoka using hair dye

- everyone using hair dye

- padmè dying Anakin's eyebrow blue after it grew back

#star wars #ahsoka tank #Rex #anakin skywalker #the clone wars #funny #headcanon

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hypexion · 4 years ago

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Deep Breath is the first episode for the Twelfth Doctor, so of course he spends like half of it being completely useless. Ah, regeneration episodes. Why must you be the way you are?

This episode starts at full speed, with a T-Rex showing up with the TARDIS in tow. We’re soon introduced to the new Doctor, who is currently in the “spout nonsense” phase of his regeneration cylce, swiftly progressing to the “be unconscious“ phase. Honestly, I don’t really like this, even if it’s a recurring thing from the Classic Doctor Who. You only get one shot to introduce a new character, and when that character is the title character, you really need to be putting their main traits forward. Deep Breath eventually gets round to it, but beforehand, there’s a quite a bit of faffing about.

Part of the faffing includes the final return of the “Paternoster Gang“. Thus, we can finally admit that they weren’t all that cool, and that Strax’s one-note character was never funny. Ironically, now that they’re leaving, there’s the most minor amount of character building for Vastra and Jenny. They all do the general “Paternoster Gang“ thing of moving the main characters along, but in this episode, Vastra is also here to patronise Clara, and by extension the audience, about accepting the new Doctor.

The whole speech about the Doctor choosing young faces to be accepted doesn’t really work for me, for two reasons. The Clara related reason is that it’s only natural for her to freak out when the Doctor regenerates from young looking, high-energy Eleven into older looking Twelve, who at this point in time has spend a lot of his time napping and being confused. Clara thinks something is wrong because the evidence points in that direction. The Doctor related reason for this is that it doesn’t really mesh with how the Doctor acts, at least in the revival. The Doctor has never been unaccepted. The first three Doctors were “old”, and they got on perfectly fine. No, the Doctor looks young because the Doctor is vain. Except as Eleven, his vanity had to face up to the fact it was actually causing a lot of problems. Also Twelve is actually younger looking than Eleven was when he started regenerating, so maybe it’s just a side effect of him actually dying of old age for once.

Now we’re done talking about people talking about the Doctor, we can now talk about the Doctor. He’s kind of angry, which is seemingly his main character trait for now. He harasses a random homeless person, and is very concerned about eyebrows and not being wrong in public (see? vanity). Probably the closest he gets to an actual Doctor Thesis in Deep Breath is once he’s confronting the villain, and he talks about how he likes on the ground, where nothing is tiny or unimportant. There’s also the bit where he promises to help the dinosaur, which is nice. And he might have killed the villain, but we need some weird moral questioning even after the Doctor pointed out he’d be doing it specifically to save lives.

The Clara side of things, meanwhile, is honestly kind of a mess. When she isn’t freaking out about the Doctor having a Completely Abnormal One, her character is being... developed, if you stretch it. Series Seven Clara was perhaps a little “oh, time travel, I guess that’s... neat“ about things, but she was generally never that aggressive. Sure, there was some tension between her and the Doctor, but that’s probably related to the Doctor inserting himself into her life in a rather unsettling way. Deep Breath decides this is because Clara is actually a super control-freak or something. Also the Doctor outright insults her and this is presented as a neutral assement of her characer. It’s not great.

Anyway all the issues are resolved when Eleven returns for one last scene to have an actual farewell to Clara, and to make sure Twelve doesn’t immediately get himself killed. It feels a tad meta, honestly, and I think sort of short-circuits any potential conflict between Clara and the Doctor going forward.

On the villains front, we have the return of evil clockwork repair droid, because Steven Moffat loves reusing ideas. Even in an extra-length episode, the potenially interesting stuff that could come from robots trying to be people is squeezed out. There’s an interesting idea happening, but it doesn’t get examined. It gets touched on when the Doctor confronts the boss robot, but that’s about it.

A new arc is also introduced - The Promised Land. Apparently, Heaven is run by a mysterious Mary Poppins knock-off called Missy, who is so obviously The Mistress in retrospect. It’s more of an early series arc, where it shows up once each episode, but isn’t a big deal until the end.

Overall, Deep Breath is... okay, I suppose? Honestly, it goes on for a little too long, and could benefit from being tightened up. To be frank, I don’t think it’s the best introduction for the Twelfth Doctor, since the narrative ends up being very busy. It’s fine as a series opener, but I’m not entirely sure it’s serving all it’s purposes well.

#doctor who #twelfth doctor #deep breath #doctor who rewatch

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cinna-wanroll · 5 years ago

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A ton of categorized Star Wars Headcannons

Hair:

Obi-Wan— Okay do this is a big controversial topic because, I mean, is it red or is it brown? Today, I will solve the whole dispute by this headcannon: he is naturally a ginger. No, I do not think that he dyes his hair. What I do think, however, is that no matter what species you are, it can be affected by your home planet. So I imagine everyone finding out Obi is a ginger like this:

Some hotshot senator is in town, with a bunch of high class but really friendly stylists who instantly recognize Obi-Wan for his huge, outrageous issue.

One of the stylists stopped cold in his tracks, mid-sentence and placed a shocked gaze on Obi-Wan. Naturally, his friends noticed and followed his gaze to meet Obi-Wan, who was standing rather awkwardly and wondering if he was somehow offending them. Finally, one of the stylists- The one wearing the bright green sleeveless piece that could blind- spoke, “Omygods, what in the galaxy did they do to you, honey?” Stepping in unison, they all began to swarm around him like bees as Obi-Wan just hovered there, shocked into scilence. Individual lines of speech could be heard, such as, “Loook at this gorgeous Stewjonian hair,” and, “do they even teach self care?” On and on the comment went, until Yoda came to his rescue. Placing a small, reassuring hand on Obi-Wan’s knee as he squeezed through, Yoda stared up sternly at the disgruntled stylists.

“Excuse me, but the meaning of this, what is?” All of them paused and then backed away, realizing that they had just committed a serious violation of personal space and also mussed Obi-Wan’s hair into a mess.

“The meaning? Oh, darling, don’t you know?”

... and basically they go on to explain how damaged Obi’s hair is from lack of sunshine and how it should be a bright ginger and how disappointing it is that the order had no clue. Of course, everyone wants to see Obi-Wan in full ginger mode so they send him out regularly to the frigging space gardens where he meditates and basks in gentle sunlight, breathing evenly and looking peaceful while his hair glows like fire and passing viewers take holos and faint from his great, glorious beauty... and I’m getting carried away here, aren’t I?

Anakin— Golden hunny brown. He’s definitely developed past his blonde stage, but I feel like I should do some of the original concept, Luke, and the book justice by saying it’s a golden-highlighted brown. I feel like one day when Anakin was bored he snuck into Rex’s bathroom and grabed his hair dye kit and was about to use it, when Rex walks in and they both stare at each other awkwardly until they both burst out laughing and Anakin realizes that would’ve been a terrible idea. Later, it becomes an inside joke that Rex will tease him about from time to time.

Jocasta Nu— In her youth, I headcannon that she had long, shiny brown locks and would dye her tips blonde.

Rex— He’s naturally a brunette, (proven by his eyebrows), but he dyes it platinum blonde and the entirety of the battalions make blonde jokes whenever he’s around.

Reincarnation AU:

Obi-Wan— Was a Mando warrior in a past life because I feel like he feels a genuine connection to their customs and is very comfortable in the culture, and also nobody has the right to go strutting around and looking that good in Mando armor like DAMN.

Anakin— A rich pilot who was spoiled and sassy and who married into riches, and this life is his second chance but also kinda punishment for his past deeds, and Padmè redeems him.

Padme— One of the kind maids of past Anakin which makes their situation all the more ironic

Ashoka— Some kind of famous activist in the galaxy doing good because she’s amazing.

Tahl— Also probably some sort of royalty, seduced by pas Qui-Gon (her blindness in the current universe is a metaphor for something)

Satine— A lower-class Mando activist who was disgusted by the war with the Jedi because so many people are dying. She actually despises past Kenobi because she views him as a violent radical. (This life teaches her to be more accepting and to have so,e empathy for other people, even if you disagree with them)

Yoda— In youth; a public speaker. In old age; Great great great great great great great grandpa

Kit Fisto— A tropical diver who falls in love with gorgeous surfer Aayla Secura

#star wars headcannons #star wars au #obitine #anidala #ashoka tano #long post #star wars #star wars the clone wars #kit fisto x aayla secura #rex

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tessatechaitea · 4 years ago

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Justice Society of America #8

Oh no! Hate! It must be stopped!

That caption sounded sarcastic, didn't it? It sort of sounds like a centrist arguing against somebody saying something that nobody should be on the other side of. "Of course Black Lives Matter! Nobody is saying they don't! Why even bother bringing it up?! You're just causing trouble!" is the kind of thing that has made me hate people who identify as "non-political" or "centrist" or "libertarian" or "Proud Husband. Father. Christian." Nobody needs to hear from you if the only thing you have to say is that nobody needs to be fighting for the things they need to be fighting for! "If it's already a crime, why do we need more stringent laws for punishing crimes motivated by hate. Aren't all criminal acts hateful?" says the person ignoring reality for their own selfish interests of which I can't even begin to guess. Enough about people who have chosen to be non-people. Let's discuss a comic book from 1993 that probably takes a stronger stance against fascism than a frightening large number of Americans today.

This advert on the inside front cover would be better if the picture over "very rare" was a cow. I mean, it wouldn't work for baseball cards but I would like it better.

I think the best part about actually living in a world where superheroes are real is that day in 5th Grade when Hawkman and Hawkwoman visit your class to talk about Egyptian archaeology. The issue begins by catching up with Hawkman and Hawkwoman as they continue their quest to steal Egyptian cultural artifacts. You have to give them a pass on this though! In 1993, people just believed archaeology was a thrilling way to bring treasures into museums for everybody to share! It's not like we had hundreds of years to reflect on how terrible this practice was. You have to do some cultural math by subtracting the number of years Western culture believed whatever it did was right and just from, I don't, negative 100? Do you think we'll have learned some humbleness and respect in one hundred years? Most kids who grew up in the 70s wanted to be boring ass truck drivers but by the 80s, thanks to Indiana Jones, they wanted to be boring ass archaeologists. Kids aren't the greatest at determining what a fun adult job might be. Did you know there are people who get angry at the supposition that digging up and taking cultural artifacts and treasures from other countries to bring back to your own might be theft? Generally they're the same type of people who believe that all advances to civilization were brought about by white culture. They hold this opinion through absolutely no evidence at all. How do I know they don't have any evidence? Because if they looked for evidence, they'd wind up reading history and realize their claim was too ludicrous to continue defending.

You might think Hawkgirl is commenting on the gigantic sarcophagus the native archaeologists are opening but I know she's making an innuendo about Hawkman's cock because she's doing that thing with her hat where she lifts it up and down and waggles her eyebrows.

It's not really much of a joke though because nobody expects Hawkman's penis to be as large as a fifty foot long sarcophagus. I mean, I'm sure it's big but it's not going to be unwieldy! It's probably almost exactly the same size and shape as his mace. Interlude: here are some Facebook posts I made on several different July 26thes because I guess I think of it as a holiday to entertain my future self every July 26th? Whatever the case, I love Past Me more than Future Me and possibly even more than Present Me. Because of the Hays Code, Alfred Fatcock had to change his name to keep making films. How patriotic would you consider a person who got a flag pregnant? War Games is my favorite movie because it taught me that trying is pointless. The first item on my bucket list is to buy a bucket. End of Interlude. Can you tell I'm stalling because maybe eight issues of this comic book was too much? Here's an adult riddle: What's twenty-five feet long, wrapped in bandages, and has an eye in the middle of its head?

This guy's penis!

I don't recognize the guy with three eyes but I'm sure he's some immortal wizard named Amn Thoth or something. While the Carters discover ancient mummy curses, Johnny Quick tries to convince Rex that his hour of strength doesn't come from a drug at all but deep inside him. He doesn't need to pop pills to be a superhero; he just needs to balance his chakras and figure out his mantra. Then he'll tap into some deep spiritual part of himself that is probably just a meta(l)gene and whammo! Hourman is back and straight edge! But Rex doesn't buy it. Especially since learning his mantra isn't going to cure his son's cancer (which he got from taking Miraclo). Also in the hospital is Wesley Dodd who is doing therapy to recover from his stroke. Plus his friend Bishop Tumutuu who was some guy who fought against Apartheid. And because the Bishop is in the hospital, the white supremacists are gathering outside to not wish him well.

Shouldn't they hear what they have to say and debate them to better strengthen their own side of the argument on why all people should have equal opportunity with all rights and freedoms promised by this country?

I'm absolutely for freedom of all speech. But the problem that the American media and a lot of people on the Internet have fallen into is the idea that all speech needs to be discussed and debated equally. That's the whole "freedom of speech" trap. Whenever somebody on Twitter wants to debate some terrible topic that nearly all kind and forward thinking people realize is a monstrous and terrible idea and you simply mock them for their terrible beliefs or tell them to shut up, they think you're clamping down on their free speech. No, sir. You were able to say the stupid thing you wanted to say. What you actually want is for a Constitutional Amendment that forces me tor respect what you said and debate it as if the matter has yet to be resolved. The media does this all the time by allowing both sides of an opinion to debate which only legitimizes the side with the terrible take. Sure, we should allow racists to go on CNN and declare their stance on race relations. But the people on the other side shouldn't be debating that topic with them. They should just laugh at them and point and tell them how terrible they are. Maybe get some of that slime from You Can't Do That on Television for rebuttals. Freedom of speech needs way more mockery and far less debate if it's going to recover. Hourman responds to the white supremacists with a "None of my business!" because he's a terrible centrist who believes that if the status quo isn't making his life rough, why rock the boat? Also his son is dying of cancer so maybe he's a bit distracted. I shouldn't be so hard on him when he's wracked with the guilt of probably killing his son with his drugs. The white supremacists begin making trouble so it's time for the JSA to put an end to hate! Or will hate win out? I mean, this comic book was written in 1993 and I don't feel like hate has backed down.

Sure, he's against metahumans now. But just wait until one of them decides to wear on of those stupid hats and silly robes!

Watching the speedsters begin to get pummeled by the huge mass of white supremacists, Hourman accidentally balances his chakras! He's suddenly powerful without the drugs or the black lights or the Doctor Fate deep muscle massages! Now if he can convince his son that the power of Miraclo has been inside him all along, his son will have the strength to battle the cancer! Why did I use an exclamation point on that previous sentence when I don't really fucking care about Rex Tyler and his son! Hourman crashes out of the hospital window to save Johnny Quick. He lets Jesse do her own thing because he's heard about women's lib and also she's not an old man whose powers have significantly dwindled over time.

My adrenal gland just got bigger too!

In the end, the Bishop is saved and even Wesley Dodd joins the fight! Or he just absentmindedly shot off his sandman gun and coincidentally put the Bishop's assassin to sleep. It's hard to tell since he's still suffering from his retirement party stroke. The issue ends with Green Lantern surfing the television when he comes upon Carter Hall's interview program where he's interviewing the mummy they dug up, a man named Edmund Kulak. Since Green Lantern recognizes him, I guess he's one of the JSA's foes. According to the Who's Who, Kulak can use his third eye to cause everybody on Earth to hate each other. I guess that's why the white supremacists were acting up (and also wearing eyes on their hats and robes). Having a magical reason for racism is always a better comic book story than acknowledging a lot of people are racist of their own free will. Imagine all the angry letters that the pre-Comicsgate generation would have had to write in! "I'm not racist but I don't think you should portray all white people as racist because that is racist! Logic for the win!" That might seem like I created a 1993 Strawman but have you read the letters reacting to the Tales of the Teen Titans Spotlight on Starfire about Apartheid? My pretend letter was practically verbatim of one or two of the letters Mike Gold had to respond to on that series! Justice Society of America #8 Rating: B-. I think I've read enough old stories about old people fighting immortals. The whole mortality angle is really bringing me down!

#Justice Society of America #JSA #DC Comics #Mike Parobeck #Mike Machlan #Len Strazewski

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first-ex-wife · 6 years ago

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I’ve been talking with Julie (@marsvronica) about Tim Murphy a lot and I just feel like I need to share our headcanons so here we go, some random ideas:

so I think that most people agree that adult Tim is a paleontologist--and I want to add professor, Dr. Tim Murphy, which is very sexy--and he is extremely passionate about it. despite his experiences in the park he hasn’t been deterred from loving dinosaurs, though he does much prefer them from afar (in both physical distance and time), as nature intended them. he loves this piece of the past, but all of his dealings with it tell him that it should be left in the past

because of this, he is absolutely opposed to the idea of Jurassic World. from the moment he first hears that they want to try again, he is just incredibly angry, like there is no way this is going to be a good thing. and Julie decided that because of this he actually ends up storming into Simon Masrani’s office (who initially anticipates that the arrival of John Hammond’s grandson will be a good thing) and just chews him the hell out, though Masrani won’t budge

Tim also finds out in this meeting that it was apparently his grandfather’s dying wish to make the park work and that just adds to his anger. pal is pissed

so speaking of, Tim is typically rather calm, but when he is angry, he will go the fuck off. he just flies into a rage, comprised mostly of yelling, but combining some over-gesticulating and stomping (even once knocking things off a desk), and it’s kind of incredible just the way he lays into people for being so IDIOTIC. he doesn’t swear much normally, but many a bad word is used

so also since he’s not in the films he may not know, but if he ever finds out that that bitch was trying to sell dinosaurs for soldiers and for entertainment? oh my god the rant would be legendary. like viral on youtube worthy. he would just fucking go at it, yelling until his voice is hoarse and he’s seeing red and he has to sit down and someone has to get him a glass of water, because oh my god when will we fucking learn that man cannot, and should not, try to control dinosaurs? like how many times?

Tim is tired

anyway, Tim is actually pretty surprised when Jurassic World opens and things go well. he even manages to relax after it’s been a few weeks and it seems like no one’s died. but he keeps pretty close tabs on the place, and being Hammond’s grandson gets him good intel--even if he and Masrani are not on speaking terms anymore--so the second he finds out they’re trying to engineer scarier dinosaurs, he just knows things are going to end badly

in fact, he tries to get another meeting, and manages one with park operations manager, Claire Dearing. despite trying to be as calm as he possibly can while freaking out, he is not able to convince her it is a terrible idea

so yes he sees the park’s collapse coming a mile away, and no, no one will listen to him, and yes he is so tired

when the park is evacuated and the dinosaurs are left to populate the island without human interference, he feels like it’s absolutely the best case scenario. even when it turns out they’re going to be taken out by the volcano, he is staunchly against interference (not that anyone will listen to him). yes, he loves the dinosaurs (especially the herbivores who technically have done no wrong) but they were never meant to be alive and all they’ve ever caused is chaos and this is literally a solution to that problem but no one sees that

also, at the end of that whole debacle with the dinosaurs now just roaming free in America?? and some of them are the violent kind??? oh my god the boy is pissed. like he did not survive the park just for this bs. he literally refuses to die in a dinosaur attack 30 years later because someone couldn’t get it through their thick skull after the first time that this was a bad idea

getting into some slightly more relaxed ideas:

I do feel like he’s generally a calm dude. but an enduring quality from his youth is that he is incredibly talkative, and has a great tendency to cling to people whose work he admires, or that he’s just met but sound super fascinating. he’s just very lively and passionate and loves to talk to people! it does still scare some people away at first, but it’s endearing enough that he tends to grow on people

Julie- as passionate as he is about his own work, he's also definitely the kind of guy who encourages other people to talk about stuff they’re passionate about (ooh especially his students and they love him for it), which comes from the fact that he kinda knows what it feels like to not bring up interests when you know people will just give you grief for it. so he’s always trying to bring out the passion in others and it just really makes him the kindest guy

like he’ll go to a friend’s party and he’ll meet some new people and he’ll be trying to get them to tell him all about what they care most about in the world and it’s just so cute

this especially applies if he meets a child. he will listen to them talk for ages, and will tell them that they can absolutely achieve their dreams and they just have to commit to whatever they care about and it will happen

this makes him incredible with kids, and especially I can see him being the world’s most amazing uncle when Lex has children. like those babies are getting the most affection and love and encouragement, they are gonna grow up to rule the world

(also, he’s really good at playing with the kids and like, just getting down on their level and joining them with the toys and it’s just iconic)

so Julie added that Tim is partly this way because he remembers being the kid obsessed with dinosaurs that everybody got tired of hearing from, or else that they only wanted to know about what he went through on the island, so now he's like "just tell me whatever you want to talk about, whatever you care about, I wanna hear all about it"

and to go off of that, people would totally hound him about the island and I feel like he’d just get so annoyed. cause like, the first few times, especially relaying it to people he knows, fine. maybe a bit taxing, emotionally, but it’s still not worn-out in his mind, and this is his family, and his closest friends, so it’s whatever. but when it’s always the first question a new person asks, he gets so tired he just does not want to discuss it

also, sometimes people don’t know who he is but they ask about the scars on his palms or his eyebrow (I can’t imagine it ever healed back to normal, or that the hair came back, so he’s just got a cool scar in lieu of the majority of it and it makes him look kinda badass even though he’s really just a soft nerd) and unless he really likes the person, he tends to come up with a ridiculous excuse to throw them off because it’s so much easier than opening up the whole Jurassic Park can of worms (which is interesting if he later comes to like the person and ends up telling them the truth at some point)

but I feel like sometimes when he’s extra annoyed with the question of what it was like, he’ll just kind of be like “well, there was a t-rex, and fun fact about them...” and then launch into like a 30 minute spiel of all the facts he knows cause it’s a loophole to A. avoid the question, and hopefully convince the person it’s not worth asking again and B. put his focus into gushing about what he loves which is much better for him

J- just like “you thought you were gonna learn about Jurassic Park but joke’s on you here's everything you need to know about dinosaurs from a paleontologist’s perspective”

and yeah he’s the most encouraging person most people know and everyone loves that about him, which also thankfully means that he’s able to start to amass a reputation for being like everyone’s personal cheerleader rather than Jurassic Park boy, which he really appreciates. especially the first time he’s intro’d to someone new and it’s not like “this is Tim, he’s John Hammond’s grandson” or “this is Tim, he was one of the few people who got to see the original Jurassic Park” and instead just “this is Tim and he’s the kindest person you’ll ever meet, you’ll love him” like big 💖 energy

this also happens a bit with his academic work, that he reaches a certain point and he’s finally known more for his research than his family/experience. but unfortunately he is still an academic in a field of people obsessed with dinosaurs, so the topic does come up pretty easily and people do point him out

speaking of, the first time another paleontologist trashes Jurassic World in his presence, someone quickly points out who he is, and the person is in the midst of saying “oh my god I’m so sorry” when he cuts them off with a simple gesture and is like “no it’s okay, I absolutely agree”

after that, most of colleagues know that he will not only participate in, but also sometimes lead the trashtalk, and it’s a fun time, though every once in a while if there are a few new people around, the same scene of realizing who he is and apologizing will play out

one time it happens when he’s a bit tipsy and he’s just kind of a lot less filtered and it comes out more “no it’s okay, fuck that place”, and it’s very non-malicious, but no one’s ever heard him swear when he wasn’t angry so everyone’s kinda looking at him for a few seconds worried he’s about to get pissed about the park again, but then he’s like “um... okay, come on let’s dance” and that’s how his colleagues know that they have given him too much alcohol (at Julie’s suggestion, it was only like 2 glasses (maybe even less), the boy is a light-weight)

also if you thought sober Tim liked to ramble about dinosaurs, just wait till you meet drunk Tim? he’s basically the same, but just a lot more stream-of-consciousness in a way where he doesn’t make any sense but he’s always like “ya know?” and you feel obligated to be like “yeah, I sure do”

and he also likes to make dinosaur jokes. and dance. he’s already got quite a bit of energy when sober and when he’s drunk it just all leaks out in dancing

also one final thing but a few ideas on scars:

so obviously he has quite a few, but as cool as the eyebrow is, I really wanna focus on his palms

I’m imagining them like white patches on his hands, softer, more sensitive skin, that branch out into sharp spindly lines running up his wrist? he thinks they look kind of cool, but they’re definitely a magnet for unwanted attention

sometimes they tingle a bit during a thunderstorm, and times like those he finds it a bit harder to work with his hands

similarly, if he’s been writing for too long, either with a pen or typing, they tend to ache quite a bit, so he’s forced to break more often than he’d like. he tries not to let them slow him down, but occasionally they get to him

especially when he’s working on his thesis (which, sidenote, I don’t know a thing about theses, but I’m gonna go ahead and say that his definitely had to do with the technological breakthroughs that allowed the dinosaurs to be brought back to life, as well as the inaccuracies (due to the missing DNA and a desire to make them scarier rather than realistic), and how they can have a severely negative impact since they were meant to be extinct), they can really frustrate him, but he just tries to take deep breaths, go do something simple for a while like watch TV, and eventually he’s able to get back to it. but seriously, some days when he’s in the flow and he does not want to break it, he either has to fight past the pain (which is going to leave him hurting for longer), or sacrifice that train of thought, and he just gets so frustrated sometimes

his students can usually tell when the scars are bothering him while he’s trying to write at the board. he’ll start to get a bit restless about it, moving around the room more in between writing his notes. in response, they tend to try raising their hands more, asking simple but distracting questions so he has a bit of time away from writing

when he first realizes what they’re doing he’s so appreciative he almost starts crying. he loves these kids and they love him and it’s so sweet

okay I know I said final thing but just one more and then I am finished

Julie and I talked about this a while ago so I can no longer remember who said what, but Tim absolutely has a Jurassic Park shirt

it was given to him by his grandpa a bit before the trip to get the kids really excited

unfortunately there was an order error and the only shirts that came in time were adult large, so Tim didn’t exactly fit into it

that’s fine with him though, and he basically wears it as a night-gown for the whole week leading up to the trip

afterwards, he feels a bit weird about it, and doesn’t really wear it until years later, after his grandpa’s died, when he finds it buried in his closet as he’s packing up to move out for school

he starts wearing it again to bed some nights. he likes to wear it when he really misses his grandpa. despite mixed feelings on the park itself, Tim feels close to his grandfather in that way

by now he’s grown into it, and it’s just the exact perfect fit for him, a little loose, but so well worn in and soft that it’s just absolutely perfect for him 🥰

I think that might actually be it. I love Timothy Murphy so much, this is a PSA

#tim murphy #jurassic park #joe mazzello #long post #nicole watches jurassic park #sorry it's so long?

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imaginetheclones · 6 years ago

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82 + Captain Rex? Your writing is super good btw!! Keep up the good work~

ahh thank you so much !! i hope you enjoy reading this !!

82. ‘ just breathe, okay? ’

’ another tough mission, i assume. ’ their voice merely brings a semblance of comfort to the battle weary captain, remaining less than responsive to their soft words. with slender fingers, they search his back for tender areas in which could be healed with a few moments of massage. however, there are deeper injuries that require much more time for healing, and at times they almost lose hope that these scars will never heal. however, they are persistent in their efforts to help him, and rex feels eternal gratefulness for them, though there is almost a feeling a guilt that lingers about him because it seems that he does not grow better.

’ you could say that. ’ he is simple in his reply, with no wish to expand upon the fact that half a platoon of men had been lost in the heat of the battle. far too painful to speak of, especially such soon after the battle had ended (a victory, of course, but a victory at a cost).

and yet they do not pursue the subject, possessing the knowledge that it will not be the best for him to pressure talk.

’ you do not have to say, cyar'ika. i am here with you. ’ a kiss pressed to his head indicates their very true affection.

’ and i do not know how to repay you back… for being with someone so scarred like me. ’ his words are more akin to murmurs, as if he does not want his partner to hear him speak. they recognize it as almost a silent call for help and they bring their arms around the armor less, quite vulnerable man that is dealing with a tragedy that he incorrectly attributes to himself. it is a very difficult mindset to rid oneself of, though they remain determined to help them in any way that they can. ’ but i do appreciate it nevertheless. ’ gingerly, there is a grasp of their fingers, of which he presses to his lips in a gentle kiss.

even throughout the difficulties this relationship is presented with, they can never imagine themselves giving up on their lover. not at all.

’ you do not need to pay me back at all. ’ their tone is complex, with firmness to indicate their point with the gentleness that this time of trouble requires. there is a ghost of a smile that and a near-laugh, almost in the absurdity of the statement that he owes them anything.

even if he does wish to repay them back in anything, they will simply refuse (they did it out of the love in their heart).

’ i do this because i love you. because i care about you so much and i want to see you be alright, not suffering. ’————after the battles always arrives the night terrors, the faces of his deceased brothers always in his dreams, almost in accusation that he did not prevent their deaths. it is a very untrue statement in reality, however the immense self-blame and the actual viewing of his brothers’ deaths create a mental state in which is perfect for these delusions and nightmares to develop. each moment of his brothers’ dying are relived through these horrid dreams, taking place in his sleep, which should have been some sort of haven from the horrors of this war.

’ rex! rex, wake up! ’ a distant voice calls for him, and it is not similar to the voices of accusations and desperation of the voices that beg to save him. the background of darkness soon returns to a background o his partner staring into his face, concern painting their features in full.

a quick realization is that he is in cold sweat and that he can hardly breath, the pressure upon his chest giving him a difficult effort to even perform the task with ease.

’ just breathe, okay? ’ their voice slowly but surely brings him back to the light of reality, though it remainsa difficulty to perform the simple task of breathing. ’ you’ll be okay, i promise you. ’

’ i will be okay… ’ the simple statement pours from his mouth without a thought, his thinking quickly returning to the brothers that he has lost. ’ but not the brothers under my command. they will not be okay. ’ the guilt ever remains, and he knows that it must be annoying to his partner, that they have to deal with this mess of a guilt ridden and battle scarred man. he fully expects them to leave him with his misery, however it is much more than a pleasant surprise when they remain next to him, their arm draped over him in comfort.

’ talk about it if you need… ’ the softest of pauses, their fingers digging tenderly into the harshly cut locks of his golden hair. ’ even cry about it, i will stay with you. ’ his eyebrows are raised at the final statement in the expression of his emotions in tears, however… it does not seem a terrible idea… it is merely a foreign concept to him, a soldier is not supposed to express his emotions, much less through the act of crying.

it is a few moments, but rex allows himself to relax within their arms, the silent tears trailing in streams that are a strong contrast against his strong features.

’ maybe my brothers won’t come back… but i have to survive for them. ’

send me a character + number

#captain rex #rex #completed #captain rex x reader #rex x reader #captain rex imagines #captain rex scenarios #star wars the clone wars #star wars imagines #star war scenarios

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acrosstimeandspace · 6 years ago

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Please Remember Me

(Dollmaker. I had an idea for angst~! So, what if Fae was a Counterforce Guardian of this world (Xenoblade)? And what if when she appeared on Jin’s ship, it was for her next mission? Well, let’s just say that the Emiya’s and Fate inspired this! Enjoy!)

There was falling falling falling then nothing. Then a flood of everything that they had experienced in their life. Memories of before Jin and Torna, of their secret exploits as Humanity’s force of protection, of the loneliness they held, of the fact that once they completed this mission, Jin would not remember her.

Her head hurt and so did their heart. Everything ached painfully. Jin had been a light in their life that they thought they could never get back. After all living in the shadows so long, it seemed impossible that she would find happiness. And now as she had attained it, it would only be ripped out of her hands.

Fae woke up groggily. They could feel that they were moving, someone carrying them, and that it felt cold. ‘Must be Jin...’

She let out a small sound and opened her eyes to see the city before her, The Land of Morytha. What had once been humanity now sunken under a sea of clouds. They must have been over it during the fall. “How are you, Fae?” Came Jin’s voice.

Despite his previous condition from the battle, Jin seemed to be relatively unphased. Did someone heal him? “I-I am fine.” She lied. They couldn’t bear to tell him the truth. “How are you? I thought that-”

“Pneuma healed me,” he nodded towards those walking in front of them. It appeared to the Mythra, Rex, Brighid, and Poppi. How strang, weren’t they enemies? Had a mutual agreement come forth from their current situation?

“Oh, we’re working with them now?”

“Just until we reach Elysium. Then all plans are back on.”

Fae nodded, but her mind was else where. They had to prevent Jin and Mal from destroying the world. But they didn’t want to hurt either of them.

Soon they settled down and started to make a makeshift camp. Fae attempted to help, but Jin insisted that they stay still. However, that allowed her enough time to get a feel of the group.

It was obvious that Brighid had a strong hatred of Jin, which did not surprise her much. Rex and Poppi seemed to be the most optimistic, and Mythra was very “tsundere”, to use the old term.

It wasn’t long before they all started to eat, and Jin had sat away from the group. Though he kept a close eye on her. It was rather silent between the five who were around the fire, most likely due to the stranger amongst them, Fae, until Brighid spoke up. “I have a question. Not to be forward, but why is Jin fond of you? He seems to despise humans, yet here you are apart of his group?”

Fae blinked as they looked up from their meal. Oh, yes, that was not a question they expected. And it would be more difficult now that they gained back their memories. “Well, um.. I’m not really fully human, you see.” Fae shrugged. “I know you probably won’t believe me, but I’m half sylph. I guess that is why.”

Brighid shook her head, obviously not buying what Fae had told her as Rex and Poppi leaned closer to her. “Wait, you’re a fairy?!” Rex said with astonishment. “Are those just t-oh wait you have pointed ears! Can you fly?”

“Poppi has never seen a fairy! Poppi thought they were just stories!”

“They are,” Brighid shook her head.

“I mean,” Mythra started, “its not completely impossible. People would probably think we’re myths too if they hadn’t seen us.”

“Well then, why doesn’t she prove it?” Rex suggested.

“Ok!” Fae exclaimed happily as they jumped up. They could hear a disapproving huff from Jin, but he did little more than shake his head at their antics.

And soon, Fae had concentrated on their power. The wind around them picked up, and started to swirl around them as their pointed ears elongated and they could feel her wings grow. And as soon as it had finished, the wind pushed outwards in a display of power.

Fae let out a small giggle as she danced around in her sylph form. Transforming like that had always made her feel like some sort of magical girl. She glanced at the faces of Rex’s group and laughed even more. “Oh my, did I really surprise you all that much?”

“Wow. I guess many things are possible...” Brighid murmured.

“She’s-how?!” Rex’s mouth was agape.

“You are a fairy! Oh Poppi hopes that Masterpon can meet you too!”

“Well, this is different.”

And afterwards the group continued to eat and Fae answered as many questions as they could with a smile on her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It wasn’t long before they all settled down to sleep. Fae leaned against Jin with their eyes closed, patiently waiting for him to fall asleep. They had a favor to ask of Brighid and Mythra, one that they felt Jin was better off not knowing.

It wasn’t long before Jin was soundly asleep, which surprised Fae a bit. But she couldn’t dwell on it, she had to ask for their help.

Brighid and Mythra were both talking still, and were the only ones who seemed to be up. Fae gently moved away from Jin, afraid to awake the light sleeper. She padded over to the two older woman and asked, “Um, could I ask a favor of you two?”

Brighid and Mythra turned towards her, startled by her appearance. They glanced at each other before Mythra replied, “Sure, as long as it’s not going easy on Jin in the final fight.”

Fae sat down between the two, a troubled frown on their face. “Well, you see. After everything is solved, I’m going to have to disappear. I won’t be able to be near Jin anymore. And well, Mik’s said that I’ve made Jin a lot happier since I’ve arrived, given him a purpose again. I was just wondering, well, if you’d keep an eye on him once I’m gone. I’m afraid that he’ll go back to the way he was before.”

Brighid exchanged another glance with Mythra as she softly spoke, “What do you mean by disappear? Is there someone who’s after you?”

Fae fidgeted, “No, that’s not why. Its-its complicated. You see, I was sent here in an attempt to stop something bad from occurring. And once you all reach Elysium and the Architect, everything will be fine. I won’t be needed here anymore, so I’ll be forced to disappear. You won’t remember me, it’s her will that we don’t have such impacts after all. So I’d like for you, Brighid, to write about me in your diary, or at least this promise. That way Jin will be okay.”

“So there is someone after you? You know that Jin will protect you,” Mythra shook her head. “He loves you a lot, you should just tell him.”

“Alayashiki isn’t after me!” Fae sighed. “I work for her, as... well I guess it really doesn’t matter if I tell you. You’ll just forget anyway. I’m a Counterforce Guardian, an agent chosen by Humanity’s unconciousness to protect it because I fit the role of what modern society sees as a hero. Because of this I cannot stay, I am forced to go where Alaya tells me to, and those who I meet are bound to forget me. I don’t want Jin to forget me, I do want to stay with him because I love him as well! But, I can to forgo my duty. That’s why I need you, Brighid, to write down this promise to me and insure that Jin will stay happy! Please!”

Fae took Brighid’s hands into their own, tears appeared at the corner of their eyes as they asked this of the Blade. Both Brighid and Mythra were taken aback. Jin had told them that the girl lost her memory, yet here she is telling them a large amount of knowledge, insane knowledge but knowledge nonetheless. “Do you, do you remember?” Brighid balked.

“Yes,” Fae nodded. “I remembered because of the fall. I don’t want to tell Jin because I feel it may destroy him. But if I-”

“That won’t happen. If this Alayashiki person has other people, they can wait for you!”

Fae sighed and shook her head. “I understand where you’re coming from. But once Alaya has us she doesn’t let us go until death. I... please, please just write this down. Please. I don’t want Jin to be happy.”

Brighid saw that they would not be getting through to Fae anytime soon, so she just nodded and smiled. “Of course, Fae. I’ll write it down right now.”

And she pulled her journal out and wrote down their promise in elegant handwriting, ‘I promised Fae to make sure Jin is happy after she is gone.’

Fae smiled, as if a large weight had been lifted off their shoulders. “Thank you so much, Brighid! I should probably get some sleep, and you should as well. Thank you.”

And with that Fae left the two to talk. Mythra looked and Brighid and shook her head. “You don’t really think...”

“I don’t know, but all we can do know is try to find a way back, and make sure nothing happens to her. If not for Jin, then for her.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been a while since they had seen Fae. Not long after Fae had woken up did they stumble upon the others of their group, and then Malos and the others of Torna swoop down and rescue Jin and Fae.

They finally reached Elysium, and at the bottom was Fae with a melancholy look on their face standing behind Jin. As they approached, Jin started to speak, “I suppose I should challenge you now, attempt to kill you.”

“And? You already know it is what we’ve come to expect.” Mòrag stated as she reached for Brighid’s whip swords.

“It seems pointless now. I have no doubt you’ll beat me. I am dying. I only have a human’s lifetime left.” He gave them a rueful smile. “I’m sure Fae told some of you about the truth.”

Rex raised an eyebrow, but Pyra stepped forward before he could speak. “I still don’t understand why you took me if Fae had already healed Malos. Or why either of you are doing this. They said... they said you were conflicted. All of you. So why?”

Jin shrugged. “Vengeance, at first. Could you blame us? I saw Lora die, and Mikhail... Mikhail was experimented on. I can’t even test to what Akhos and Patroka went through.”

Pyra froze. That blonde boy, it really was Mikhail. “How would this help? Why not just go after Amalthus?”

“We were angry, and easy to convince. Though I’m not even sure Malos wants to go through with this. He keeps talking about finding out who he really is. I think he’s realized that Amalthus had a greater impact on him than he liked.”

“So you’re backing down?” Zeke gasped.

“I don’t think dying here would be good. I,” Jin glanced at Fae, “I found a reason to live again.”

“You attempted to kill so many people! How can we believe this?” Mòrag shook her head.

Brighid and Pyra shared a glance. It was a bit hard to believe but... “Back in Morytha, he nearly risked his life to save her,” Brighid gestured towards Fae. “He cares about them deeply. I don’t think he’s lying.”

“I agree.” Pyra nodded. “Love is a strong force.

They watched the blonde’s face match her hood as she looked away bashfully. They then caught Jin in a similar position, with a hand covering his face. “Honestly I kind of expected more...” Zeke murmured.

“As did I.” Amalthus laughed, he approached them with a smirk. “I really thought that there would be enough damage done that taking you all down now would be easier. I’m sad to see that I was wrong.”

Everyone stood at attentions, weapons drawn as Amalthus came closer to them. “Just what are you doing here?” Jin growled.

“I am here with the same purpose that you once had, to destroy humanity!” Amalthus declared. “You’re much more alike with me than you realize. I lost someone close to me because of humanity’s selfishness! So I sought revenge. I even used your friend to extend my life! And now, with the use of both Aegises, I will finally achieve my dreams!”

“What?” Jin gripped his blade tighter as Amalthus removed his head wrap to reveal the core crystal that he had stolen from Haze. “You bastard, I’ll-”

Fae placed a hand on his shoulder. “Jin, please calm down. He wants to rile you up so you’ll be easier to defeat!”

“Well, you’re a new face. Just where did you come from?” Amalthus raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“I came from someone who wants you dead, and has wanted you so for a long time.” Fae stated clearly as they clutched an object in their hand, a small wooden wand. “You think you’re humanity’s bane, but I can assure you that I am it’s protector.”

Amalthus let out a loud laugh, “YOU? A tiny little girl as the protector of humanity? You think highly of yourself.”

“She sure as hell does, but that’s what you get when you can back your shit up, right?” Malos stalked up from the tree, his sword in hand. “You think that I’m yours still, don’t you? That we haven’t found ways around you or that I haven’t found another Driver? Well to bad for you that I’m with them.”

“What? Oh you have got to be joking. What, is she like a cute little sister to you?”

“More like one of the Driver’s that’ll kick your ass!”

And with that Malos tossed his blade to Fae who caught it with her free hand. She charged towards her foe, who drew out his own Blade, the staff that Haze had used to weaken a Blade’s power. “You won’t be getting far with a Blade, child!”

“Yeah, that’s why I have this, moron!” Fae yelled as she slashed at Amalthus with the sword, and then with her wand manipulated the roots of the tree to her will. They rose up and aimed at Amalthus who narrowly dodged them.

Fae tossed the sword back to their Blade, who took the chance to attack Amalthus on his own. Soon it was a dance between staff and sword, as well as magic projectiles. Malos’s blade pressed against the base of the staff, Amalthus keeping him at bay with the power it held. Ancient runes hovered around Fae as she cast a spell, sending a wave of sharp icicles at Amalthus. He attempted to dodge them only to have a few end up in his arm.

He let out a small string of curses as he attempted to use the staff on Malos again, this time working. “Heh, see, you’re not so great after all!” He declared.

Fae held her wand as she expanded it, summoning forth all the ether she possessed. It expanded into a great wooden staff, with a glowing blue orb at the top. “Come forth with the light and the dark. Balance of the chaos and order,” They banged their staff onto the ground and a tremor erupted from the spot, “By order of I, Mab, surround this fool in a suffocating dream!”

It was as if shadow and light collided around Amalthus, the purest form of ether suffocating the man into an oblivion of nightmares. It seemed as his life had frozen, and granted Malos enough time to deal the death blow.

Fae’s staff reverted back into it’s original form as they collapsed onto the ground. A exhausted sigh escaping their lips. Jin rushed to their side with a worried look. “A-Are you alright? You’re not hurt, are you?”

Fae shook their head. “No, I’m fine. Just exhausted all of my energy is all. Are you good?”

Jin scooped her up into his arms. “I’m glad that you’re safe. I-”

“Well, are we just going to go up there? Or are we going to watch you be all mushy?”

“Nia! Let them have their moment!”

“But aren’t they coming up with us, Pyra?”

Jin shook his head and laughed. “Oh, we are. We’ll be there in a bit.”

Malos approached them with a smirk. “Might as well drag you love birds there.”

Jin stood up with Fae in his arms. “We’re coming. Just know that climbing will be slow.”

“Just put them on your back. They can hold on.”

And soon enough Fae had their arms around Jin’s neck and their legs around his abdomen. “Ready now. Let’s go.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After the long climb, and trust them with Malos teasing Fae and Jin it felt like years, they finally reached the top of Elysium. “Thank god. I think I was about to kill Malos.”

“Honestly I’m surprised that you didn’t before Jin,” Nia joked.

Fae hopped down from Jin’s back with a small smile. “We finally made it. Well, its time to yell at the Architect for help. Hopefully.”

The group walked up to the large door, which Mythra and Malos pushed open. They then proceeded to walk into the hall. Eventually, they reached a large empty room. It felt sterile, like nothing had ever lived here.

“I...I think I remember this.” Malos said as he gawked at the room. “But what-”

“I’m surprised, I surely thought things would go south between the two of you after the Aegis War.” A hooded man said as he glided into the room.

“You, you’re you’re the Architect!” Rex exclaimed.

“Father?” Mythra and Also muttered why staring at the man.

Fae stood on guard. “Architect?”

They walked up to the man, no fear present in them. “You know what I was sent here to do. Fix the mess you caused.”

The others stared at her, her words bold as her actions. “Fae, you remembered?” Jin inquired.

Fae didn’t respond, instead, the Architect did. “I’m honestly surprised Alayashiki sent someone after me. Though considering the state of Humanity its really no wonder that it’s consciousness would be worried! And yes, you’re friend remembers who they are. Around the time of landing in the old world, yes?”

“Yes, that is all correct.” Fae spoke softly. “I assume that you can fix this?”

“No need to worry, I have a plan. All the titans will come together to form one landmass, a new Pangaea. Everything will be righted.”

Fae nodded. They could feel Alaya pulling them back. “You should probably talk to your love,” the Architect leaned down to whisper. “He seems quite distraught.”

She gave him a sorrowful glance. “I will, but it is highly unlikely that he will remember.”

Fae walked back to Jin as the others headed out, giving them the space they needed. “Jin, I’m sorry. I’m going to disappear. I-”

Jin grasped onto her, “No, I know what you told Mythra and Brighid. But I refuse. You aren’t leaving, Fae. Not now.”

He pulled them into a tight hug, burrying his face into their hair. “J-Jin... I...” Fae murmured. Tears formed in their eyes as they felt Alaya’s pull become stronger. They gripped tightly onto Jin, hugging him with all their might. “I don’t want to leave you, Jin! I don’t want you to forget! I love you so so much! Please don’t forget me, alright? Please, I love-”

“I won’t forget you. I won’t let you leave.” He took Fae’s face into his hands, kissing them. “I love you too much to let you go.”

And it began. Like Fae had feared, they felt themselves begin to go, golden light encircling them. “N-No! No no not now! Please don’t! Please, please just don’t forget, please just live happily Jin! I’m so sorry I-”

Jin tightened his grip on her, hoping that he’d at least be with her. “I won’t. I love you so much Fae. I won’t ever forget you. I will find you again, I promise. I promise you that we will get our happy ending, my love.”

Tears welled up in Fae’s eyes as they felt the last of them being pulled back. Using the last of their strength, they pulled Jin into a kiss, and as soon as their lips met, like light she was gone.

Jin collapsed onto the ground, tears heavy in his eyes. He had lost someone he loved yet again. Yet again he had failed. Why? Why did this have to happen?

And his sadness was interrupted by the yelling of Pyra, “Jin, hurry! Malos just disappeared in some golden light, I-I think this place might sink!”

Jin stood up, his determination strengthened. Malos was alive. And wherever he could find Malos he could find Fae. And he would find her, he was not losing his love again. He would not let her be forgotten.

#angst #love letters #my writing #jin #snowdrop #I'm sad. after this but have some angst!

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jadewestvictorious89 · 6 years ago

Text

Jade West

Character Profile for Jade West

Quotes

“If someone was pushed off this catwalk, and they landed on the floor really hard, do you think they'd live?”

“My favorite toy was a hammer. You finish the puzzle.”

General Information

Name:Jade West

Age:18

Gender:Female

Personality:Jade has a very prickly personality; she is known for being sassy, dark, grouchy, and sarcastic to those around her. She was described as "freaky" by the boy in Ice Cream for Ke$ha, to which she took offense to, but when she was described as "weird" by Moose in Three Girls and a Moose, she acknowledged and admitted it, nodding along (though that was because she was attracted to him). Jade has a 'thing' for scissors, first shown in Wi-Fi in the Sky as her username on TheSlap is 'ScissorLuv'. Her locker is also decorated with numerous scissors, her favorite (horror) movie is The Scissoring, and she even has a favorite pair as shown in her videos on The Slap and buys herself new pairs (Jade Gets Crushed). She also takes interest in pain (Cat's New Boyfriend), a lump of fat (Rex Dies), monkey fur, and blood (Freak the Freak Out (episode)), (Tori Gets Stuck). She also enjoys breathing in the fumes of dead people (Car, Rain & Fire), and likes to pretend she's been captured by witches and is being made into human soup while in hot tubs (IParty with Victorious). She has a macabre sense of humor, usually saying things about people being hit by a bus at various episodes, as well as somewhat sadistic tendencies, such as enjoying people getting hurt, even her own boyfriend being slapped (in a scene).

Jade is jealous, often insatiable, mean, and rude to many people. She sometimes shows authority and control at Hollywood Arts, yelling at others and even using physical force at times. Although she does not usually fight directly, she often retaliates in way "that will make [someone] sad for a long time". She is very possessive of her boyfriend Beck, protecting him from others that have a seem interested in him even as friends.

Despite her tough attitude, she can get freaked out by a few things, revealed by her horrified reaction to a dog attacking who she thought to be Beck (Jade Dumps Beck), freaking out when Sinjin broke into her house (Wi-Fi in the Sky), crying when she learned she was sweating for the first time (Survival of the Hottest), Sikowitz scaring her multiple times (iParty with Victorious), freaking out when Cat removed her eyebrows (Crazy Ponnie), holding onto Beck when soldiers invaded the gang's hotel in Yerba, and getting knocked down by Sheema in Locked Up!

Jade fits the stereotype of a "bad girl" much more than a "mean girl". She is very rebellious, as she doesn't like being told what to do and often points out that she's doing something because she wants to, not because someone told her to (for instance, she got her piercings 45 minutes after her mother said no to Jade), and often claims that she is only doing something because she wants to and not because someone tells her to (The Great Ping Pong Scam). However, she seems to obey Beck, and he is the only one able to calm her down and make her at least somewhat polite and nice to other people, for example in Beggin' on Your Knees.

Jade is a hardworking student at Hollywood Arts, where she dedicates her time to writing, acting, and singing. She seems to favor script writing, as she writes the play Well Wishes in Wok Star and manages to get it produced with the help of Tori. She seems to prefer to star in works she both writes and directs, and these works include: "Clowns Don't Bounce" (Prome Wrecker), an unnamed TV series where she plays the main character and her evil twin (only written; talked about in a post on The Slap), and her re-audition in Helen Back Again. All of these were dark and scary. She also seems to prefer film over stage, as her re-audition for Principal Helen Dubois was in the form of a short film while Beck's was a monologue on stage. Often, her performances are considered "weird" and "disturbing", but most people still enjoy them; an example of this is Well Wishes.

It is shown throughout the series that deep down, Jade is insecure and her heart is broken, which is part of the reason she is so rude towards people. For example, she has often assumed that Beck was cheating on her; she was devastated when she briefly broke up with him and he wouldn't take her back, and didn't want anyone "cool" to see her crying (Jade Dumps Beck). It's pretty clear that Beck is very meaningful to her and she feels empty without him. She also seems to be worried about her father's opinion of her hopes and dreams and went to great lengths to make him enjoy her play "Well Wishes" in Wok Star, which nearly got butchered. She also competed with the rest of the gang to get the most followers on The Slap to maintain popularity and dominance. She gets very upset when a satellite catches a picture of her that makes it look like she is picking her nose in The Bad Roommate and doesn't want anyone to see.

Jade often helps solves the group's challenge and could be considered the smartest (next to André and Beck). For instance, in Ice Cream for Ke$ha, she thought of the idea that the "S" would be found in the least popular flavor of ice cream. In Terror on Cupcake Street, she mentioned that the confetti cannon would scare the thugs away and it did. Even before Tori (and even Trina) joined the gang, she still solved problems, an example of this is in The Great Ping Pong Scam. In her profile video on The Slap, she describes herself as smart and deep.

Jade hates many things for various reasons, as reflected in her TheSlap segment, What I Hate, but she also has two episodes of these segments titled "What I Love", because she does not want to be predictable.

Although Jade seems tough and scary at times, she has been proven to only be very intimidating and she lost her only physical altercation with someone other than Tori (The Wood) and Cat (Crazy Ponnie); Sheema quickly knocked her to the ground in Locked Up!. Despite acting as creepy as she does, she is disgusted by many things including Trina Vega's pimple in Victori-Yes. She can also be quite flirty and feminine even in her dark, blunt nature - for example, she wears a very nice dress to the Prome in Prome Wrecker even though she only attends for revenge.

Despite her usual personality, she seems to have a bit of a soft side for young kids, as shown on her TheSlap.com segment, "Jade With Tots." In her conversations with preschoolers, although she is still herself, she seems more kind towards the kids. For example, when one of the kids talks too quietly, she loosely says "Gotta speak up, sweetheart." Also, when talking to another child, she smiles and says casually, "So I hear you're a little artist. You like art?" She also seems to be quite loving and motherly towards her best friend, Cat.

Occupation:Former student at Hollywood Arts

Appearance

* Eye Color: Blue-Green

* Hair Color: Brown (Season 1); black (Season 2); dark brown (Seasons 3 and 4)

* Trademark: Piercings, tattoos, and colored streaks in hair.

Jade started off as a brunette with blue-green eyes and stands at 5'7". Her skin is noticeably pale, but she got tanner and dyed her hair darker for the second season.

Jade has a Gothic sense of style, and aside from her dark, occasionally laced clothing she wears dark makeup and paints her nails black as well. The jewelry she wears is designed by real life artist Dre Swain, and she also wears dark red Doc Martens and black combat boots. She carries a Gears of War messenger bag. Jade also has multiple streaks in her hair that change color periodically. In season one her streaks in her brown hair are at first pink, blonde and light blue before going red for the rest of the season. In season two she dyed her hair black and her streaks are blue and green. In season three her hair is a dark brown and her streaks are mostly green, but also blue in a couple of episodes. In season four her hair is shorter and her streaks are purple for 10 of the 13 episodes. She also has two piercings, one in her left eyebrow and one on her nose. Jade has a rebel star tattoo on her right forearm and has since gotten another one that was never shown onscreen (Beck mentions that "Jade's getting her new tattoo" in a video on TheSlap.com, Tori Takes Requests #2).

Relationships with Other Characters

Beck Oliver

(2008-present, Boyfriend, with brief break-ups in between)

Jade: You love me again.

Beck: Who said I stopped?

Beck has been Jade's boyfriend and the love of her life for over three years, and she is very possessive of him. She doesn't like him talking to or flirting with other girls who she does not know and has trust issues with him (which is quite common among most teen couples). This sometimes irritates Beck; he once deleted his account on TheSlap.com because Jade kept spamming him and "freaking out", but he rejoined after she promised to stop. She has not done this since he re-joined, showing she can make compromises and she truly does love and respect him.

Her obsession with Beck is first made apparent in the Pilot, when she sees Tori wiping coffee off of Beck's shirt and immediately misinterprets the action as flirting. Though Jade is usually the one to show love in the relationship, the couple are shown to be mutually in love on multiple occasions such as when Beck says "I never stopped loving you". She dumps Beck briefly in the episode Jade Dumps Beck, but has second thoughts about it and quickly wants him back. She goes through a short state of depression when Beck doesn't take her back, even resorting to asking for help from her frenemy, Tori. At the end of the same episode, they rekindle their relationship and continue dating.

Beck also clearly loves to tease and rile up Jade, either by making her jealous or letting her get carried away by her own theories. This is exemplified in Wi-Fi in the Sky when he doesn't tell her his cheerleader neighbor is only 9 years old. Jade later claims that he does this all the time. In Beck's profile video on TheSlap.com, Jade states that they've been dating for two years and been exclusive for a year and a half.

Jade seems to show a softer side when she and Beck are alone, which has been seen on some of their videos on TheSlap. Jade also seems to be meaner and gets into fights with Tori more often when Beck is not there with her. In the last "Jade With Tots" episode, Beck tells Jade that he loves her, which makes Jade’s heart melt and she starts kissing him.

Sadly, in The Worst Couple, they broke up. After this, they rarely interacted, and when they did, they were bitter towards each other. For instance, in How Trina Got In, Jade mocks Beck and says (sarcastically) that he knows everything except how to keep a girlfriend happy. Additionally, both Jade and Beck acted very awkward around each other in André's Horrible Girl, both whispering to a friend that no one told them the other would be there, and they aren't happy about it. It was shown, however, that she still has lingering feelings for him as she was truly upset and hurt when she saw Beck hugging Tori and trying to kiss her in Tori Goes Platinum. Also, Beck seems to still care about her as shown in Opposite Date, when he wants to check if Jade is truly okay with him dating other girls, even though they were broken up at that point (it is quite possible he didn't want to hurt Jade's feelings).

In the episode, Tori Fixes Beck and Jade, after Beck realizes he still loves Jade, she coincidentally sings a song called "You Don't Know Me". They finally get back together and have remained that way for the rest of the show. They became more affectionate towards each other, no longer fight, and are much more physical. According to recent social media posts from Liz Gillies and Avan Jogia, Beck and Jade are still together, are currently living in Beck’s trailer, and they even have a kid of their own.

Tori Vega

(2010-present: Frenemy)

Dude, why are you rubbing my boyfriend?

Jade and Tori's friendship is complicated, and is full of insults and fighting, but it's also one of the closest relationships on Victorious. Jade appears to have had an open rivalry with Tori ever since the first episode (Pilot), where Tori spilled coffee on Beck and was wiping the coffee off him, then when Jade poured coffee on Tori, then Tori kissed Beck for revenge. As of episode 3, Stage Fighting, they seem to be developing a possible friendship, though she still displays a dislike for Tori. In the fourth episode, The Birthweek Song, she gives Tori coffee she found in the garbage and says "Yeah, I'm not really her friend." Despite saying this, Jade comes to Tori when she breaks up with Beck in Jade Dumps Beck, and asks for her advice (though Jade claims this is because she wouldn't want anyone cool to see her in that state). In Freak the Freak Out, Jade tries to use Tori to defeat two stuck-up girls at the Karaoke Dokie after she and Cat were unfairly banned from performing there, indicating that regardless of her hostility toward her, she regards Tori as a worthy performer. In Wok Star, Tori helps Jade produce a play she wrote herself to impress her dad. When her dad admits that Jade's play was excellent, Tori and Jade hug, signaling that the two are now considered friends. In Beck Falls for Tori, Jade helps Tori by forcing her to do the stunt and overcome her fear. In Tori Gets Stuck, Jade tries relentlessly to steal Tori's role in Steamboat Suzy and they seem to be enemies once again. In Prom Wrecker, Tori plans her prome on the same day as Jade's play "Clowns Don't Bounce" by accident, so Jade seeks revenge and tries to ruin Tori's prome. Eventually, Jade's plan backfires. They seem to be back on bad terms, as in Helen Back Again, Jade didn't help Tori get her spot in the school back, in Who Did It to Trina?, Jade blames Tori for her sister's injuries, and in Jade Gets Crushed, Tori states multiple times that Jade is evil. In Tori & Jade's Play Date they work together to revenge against two boys who are annoying them. They finally become friends in Tori Goes Platinum, when Jade sees Tori refuse to kiss Beck because she considers Jade to be her friend and she believes kissing a friend's ex-boyfriend would be wrong. Because of this, Jade gives Tori her spot in the Platinum Music Awards back and cheers her on in the audience showing thus the two becoming friends.

Regardless to say, however, Tori and Jade are enemies at times and at times but they are also friends. So, let's just say they two girls have a strong sense of the relationship, 'frenemy' but we can't say they aren't friends because they do act like it.

Cat Valentine

(2008-present: Best Friend)

Cat: We're hanging out together!

Jade: NO!

Jade and Cat are best friends. While Cat is a textbook girly-girl, Jade is more of a tomboy. They usually expresses concern for each other when they're hurt and calls out the person who caused it. Jade is also less hostile and more patient towards Cat than towards most people (even though she did once say, "Is it a device that can beam you to another table? Because if it is, which button do I push?!" and tells her she's "screwed up"). Cat is not as easily offended by Jade (although in Rex Dies, Jade makes a death threat to Cat, saying, "If someone fell of this cat-walk and hit the floor really hard, do you think they'd live?" and in A Film by Dale Squires, she uses the fact that she's acting as an excuse to slap Cat's face) and actually seems to adore her. Even though Cat unintentionally electrocutes Jade in Rex Dies, Jade is shown as not being extremely upset by it. In the episode Survival of the Hottest, they hug and she spins her around, which implies that they're very good friends since Jade rarely hugs anyone willingly. They seem to love each other like sisters. In Freak the Freak Out, they sing the song Give It Up together. Jade and Cat often comment on each other's boards on TheSlap.

Jade seems to exercise a parental sort of control over Cat and seems to know her very well. Jade admittedly doesn't hate Cat's video profile, and Beck tells Cat how this is a big compliment from Jade. Jade has also been seen sleeping over at Cat Valentine house before in a video[Cat and Jades bedtime story] on TheSlap. It is also mentioned that Beck and Jade babysit Cat sometimes.

It seems that Cat knows Jade rather well, as she managed to get Jade a Christmas present she liked. It should be noted that Jade's attitude towards Cat changes depending on the episode or her mood.

André Harris

(2008-present: Close Friend)

"And... that's for you."

Jade doesn't seem to have a problem with André. They have been friends for at least two years as revealed in The Great Ping Pong Scam. They eat at the same table and talk amongst the same group of people. She does get annoyed by André from time to time, as shown in Beck's Big Break when she is annoyed by him when he's playing music on his keyboard, so she knocks the batteries out of it. On the other hand they seem to be pretty nice to each other, as seen in The Diddly-Bops, where Jade was among the ones trying to console André about losing his record deal. She even pulls Rex's arm off for joking about the situation. In Jade Gets Crushed, André falls in love with Jade, but at the end of the episode, seems to get over her. Also, in The Worst Couple, Jade says something rude to every single character except André, which was noticed by a lot of people. In the final season, they had been seen to have been hanging out a lot more and spending time together. André even laughed a little too loud whenever Jade insulted anyone, even Tori, his own best friend. Fans had noticed this too, and people were questioning whether or not André still had feelings for Jade. It appears that Dan Schneider had meant for this to happen, because he leaked a video of a future kiss between Jade and André uploaded it once more.

Robbie Shapiro

(2008-present: Frenemy)

Robbie: I'll go get you some ice.

Jade: Sit down!

Jade has tortured Robbie during the first series though it has been slowed down since then. She has insulted him and Rex a couple of times, even tearing off Rex's arm with a smirk. In Survival of the Hottest, Jade forces Robbie to give her his water because she is hot and thirsty. She was elated to have Rex die, even with the emotional trauma it would cause Robbie, in Rex Dies. However, her reason was so that Robbie could get over Rex and finally become normal, possibly meaning, in her own way, she cares about Robbie's mental health. They are seen to be at least friendly acquaintances in The Diddly-Bops when Jade compliments Robbie on his song about broken glass, the only character to agree with him on it by saying "I like it". In Wok Star, he shows some compassion for her regarding her play, and confusion at her ways of dealing with stress (i.e.: cutting up a trash can). Yet, he joins in on the plan to make Jade's play better for the opening act. On TheSlap.com, Jade once commented: "Caught myself singing along to Robbie/Rex's song, Forever Baby. What is wrong with me? I don't even know who I am anymore!"

Trina Vega

(2008-present: Enemy)

NO ONE LIKES YOU!

Jade has barely interacted with Trina so far, but she appears to hate her. In Jade Dumps Beck, Trina gives her a flyer advertising her one-woman show. Jade responds by crumpling up the flier and stuffing it down Trina's shirtfront. In Survival of the Hottest, Jade yells bluntly to Trina twice that no one likes her. Also, when Tori asked Jade what she thought she should get Trina for her birthday, she replied wittily "talent", making it clear that she doesn't think Trina has any talent, which is probably what most people would say in the matter. She finds Trina's accident in Who Did it to Trina? hilarious, and even uploaded it online. However, in Wanko's Warehouse, she goes with the gang and Jade turns on Trina as usual.

Erwin Sikowitz

(2008-present:Teacher)

Jade claims that Sikowitz is her favorite teacher in her video profile on TheSlap, and mostly participates in his activities. During "Locked Up!" she is the first to react/run over to greet "their favorite teacher". Sikowitz doesn't really have a relationship with her, although he calls her to be in an improv scene in the "Pilot" and randomly calls on her to be in a Drive-By Acting Exercise, which annoyed her but she did it anyway. Jade was also part of the Diddly-Bops, a children's group that Sikowitz put together for his roommate's son's birthday party. Jade was also the first to comment about Sikowitz's TheSlap page. In "Sleepover at Sikowitz's", Jade is the first to volunteer to go to Sikowitz's house. Sikowitz always says phrases that start with "Ah, Jade..." giving her an advice or making a comment about her personality.

Sinjin Van Cleef

(2010-present; Enemy/Frenemy)

WALK AWAY!

Sinjin has a massive crush on Jade, but she dislikes him very much. In Jade Dumps Beck, when Sinjin heard that Jade dumped Beck, Sinjin told her, "Want one [boyfriend]?" Jade responded, "Walk away." and he did so quickly. Also, when the news of Jade and Beck splitting spread, Sinjin and his friend made an attempt to sit with her at lunch, until Jade merely (and loudly) said, NO and the two walked away. In "Tori the Zombie", Jade said his mother gave birth to the wrong thing. Sinjin was also shown to be in Jade's house, obviously without permission much to Jade's annoyance in "Wi-Fi in the Sky". On TheSlap, he talks about Jade and even writes her poems. This may show he has an unhealthy obsession with her. In Wok Star he helped her with set design. When he tried to talk to her about different kinds of moss to use for the set, she compared it with his hair. He then continued to speak to Jade, which annoyed her and she commanded him to "Go." Before she even finished the word he took off running, showing he always does what she says and greatly respects her (despite him breaking into her house). Tori said it made pee run down his leg. In a video on "The Slap" Sinjin made puppets of him and Jade. He acted as if Jade was in love with him and wanted to dump Beck so she could go out with him. Jade walks into the room to see Sinjin and calmly tells him that is not okay.

Family:Jade's relationships with her family are known to be terrible. According to her, her father "hates [her] guts", has called the cops on her, thinks that all of her creative desires are stupid, and she wants to show him that he is wrong. She seems to disrespect her mother and has called her "stupid" quite a few times, and claims that she loves the movie The Scissoring more than her mother (Three Girls and a Moose). Her grandma doesn't approve of her style, and Jade once told her to "get out of here" when asked about the kind of guy she wanted to marry. She once locked her cousin in a closet, she seems to think of her stepmother as annoying because she takes up all her father's attention, and she enjoys listening to her brother panic. (Most of these examples are from numerous posts and videos on TheSlap.com.)

Biography:Jade's childhood has been noted to be an unhappy one on a few occasions throughout the series. She says that the ice cream reminds her of it, and that her favorite toy was a hammer (Ice Cream for Ke$ha).

She was friends with Andre Harris, Robbie Shapiro, Cat Valentine, and Beck Oliver since at least 2008, where they formed an official ping pong team at Hollywood Arts High School. (The Great Ping Pong Scam) She and Beck also began dating at some point this year (Jade Dumps Beck).

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what-even-is-thiss · 7 years ago

Text

Fic, All That’s Left

Request from an anon who wanted a prinxiety fic where Roman is a monster slayer and Virgil is a monster that’s a human slayer. Sorry I don’t do romance in this fandom, anon. I hope this is okay. Also like… @silly-aesthetic-me wrote a short fic about the demon thing and it’s romantic so I didn’t reblog it but I like the demon idea they had and kind of wanted to write a fic based off of it so I’m going with that. Sorta getting a Blue Exorcist vibe from what I did here. God, I love that anime. Also, this is the longest fanfic I have ever written, hands down. I really hope it was worth all of that.

Oh and there’s a disabled character in here. If I misrepresented anything I’m sorry. I tried to research but ya know, I’m able bodied so there’s probably something I overlooked.

Tip Jar

Warnings: Blood, violence, death, supernatural elements such as magic and demons. 9.695 words.

Abstract: What are we willing to do for our friends?

The air was too still for Roman’s liking. Something devilish was in the air. Something unsavory. Nearby a dark figure in a tree was having a similar thought.

The demon in the tree held the long black nail of his thumb in between his teeth and fiddled with it but did not chew. The human was just looking. Just peering around like it could smell something. Maybe it could but just didn’t know it.

The human smelled like expensive cologne and freshly cleaned clothes. A scent that could send one’s head spinning in pain if they had little experience. Humans are way too clean, especially this one. This one reeks of arrogance and determination. Almost reminded Virgil of the poor sap he had to posses in order to be here.

Could he really be that dangerous?

Roman stood on the railing of his balcony, trusting his own balance too much perhaps, but he knew he could stay. His short hair was being abused by the wind and the paper he was holding in his hand threatened to fly away.

A demon specifically targeting executioners. Exorcists that disposed of demons permanently. Still unknown what it looks like but thought to be possessing a human. Everyone was on red alert. A thin layer of stress was coating the order like wax on a paper cup.

There was something out there tonight. He looked out into the darkness, trying to get a sense of what it was. He reached into his pocket and held onto the small ring he kept in it.

What’s out there? Could it really be that dangerous?

There was a long period of observation, the human feeling the situation from subconscious clues and the demon smelling and observing the shadowy outline. The calm before the storm was sickeningly sweet, with the quiet fall breeze moving the colorful hair around.

Patience was never the forte of either demons or humans.

Roman jumped backwards onto the balcony.

“I know you’re there.” He said. “Why are you watching?”

A weight landed in front of him on the marble railing. A man about his age who could pass for a human if he tried appeared with long black nails and dark purple hair and a patched hoodie and jeans so distressed you could have sworn he just stepped out of a war zone and then haphazardly sewn some purple flannel over half the holes. His slightly pointed ears and sharp teeth gave him away. His eyes were pitch black and unreadable. As if his pupils had become so surprised they’d gone and consumed the iris and whites of the eye.

For a moment the two men just stared at each other. The demon was squatting on the railing so they were at the same eye level but then he slowly stood up and looked down at the well to do exorcist, a careful calculating look on his face. The bright dyed red hair of the human popped in the light coming from inside and stood in contrast to the well tailored casual clothes he was wearing. A jacket and button up combo that only the upper middle class could afford. A single piercing went through his eyebrow with unknown symbols carved into it.

“So what is the exorcist waiting for? An invitation?” the demon finally said with a sinister smile on his face. “I would think someone as talented as you wouldn’t need one.”

Roman pulled his left hand out of his pocket and slipped the ring onto his middle finger in one swift motion. His upper arm hardened and extended in one instant into a blood red blade.

“ Propius non veni, rex obumbratio.” Roman said, standing in a warning stance.

“That Latin crap doesn’t work on me, man.” the demon said.

Roman dodged a kick and jabbed, almost hitting his opponent’s arm and missing by mere centimeters.

The shadow king landed behind his opponent and yanked the chain off of his neck which turned into a curved blade and short handle. He turned to strike the exorcist from behind but Roman turned around impossibly fast and stuck his blade straight through the demon’s heart.

Some dark blood was spat in Roman’s face and the demon smiled weakly.

“You can’t get rid of me that easily. And I know your name. Do you know mine?”

He turned to shadow and vanished like water through sand. Roman pinched the tip of the blade with his right hand and his left arm returned to normal. He placed the ring in his left pocket.

“Virgil. The stories said you led people out of the mirror world. Why are you here? And what kind of fashion sense is that?” Roman asked the night.

The night did not answer.

“Please. Please play with me. Please?”

Virgil stood at the edge of his territory and paused at the blood line poured out in the sand as a nervous hand grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie. He turned around slowly and felt his bare feet shift in the black sand as another demon came into view.

Virgil gently put his hand on the other’s head and his touch met a mix of soft hair and dry blood from the wound in the other demon’s forehead.

“I’ll play with you when I come back, my friend.” Virgil said, a smile on his face and sadness in his voice.

The older demon wearing a blue shirt sunk away a little but smiled cheerily.

“Okay.” He said with the innocence of a child.

Virgil turned away and crossed out of his territory, heading for a portal. He resisted the urge to limp and clutch at his chest. That stupid executioner had done more damage than he’d like to admit, but that didn’t mean he could stop. This was more important than a stupid wound.

Roman fell to his knees and for a moment couldn’t breathe. After three seconds that seemed to last an eternity he gasped for air and supported himself on his hands, clinging to oxygen and in too much distress to think about how he appeared. The stone floor looked very nice and polished. Probably shouldn’t throw up on it. Throwing up on a polished floor is not what someone of his social standing does anyways.

“You came here to tell me that you had it in your reach and it didn’t die?” A cold voice spat above him.

“Please Mx. I have information. Let me give that much.” Roman said, looking up.

Cold eyes stared down at him. His supervisor moved their long hair back and tied it messily into a bun before folding their arms angrily.

“Fine. Stand up, executioner Prince. What do you have?”

Roman stood up and regained his composure, trying not to look at those steel toed boots they were wearing.

“I couldn’t kill it with one strike. It had to be a major demon. He traveled through shadows. It had to be Virgil.”

He received a quizzical look that made him want to protect his private areas.

“Virgil? The shadow guide? He has never been a threat before. If anything, he helps humans. Why would he want to suddenly come after us?”

“Mx, there has been another killing even since I got a hit on him. He’s recovered enough to fight back. Normal demons you strike them with an executioner’s blade and they disintegrate. Their very souls are ripped from reality. How did this one survive if he’s not one we’ve heard of?”

The supervisor turned away and walked slowly towards the abstract stained glass at the far end of their office. The heels of their deadly boots clicked on the floor and stopped with a kind of finality at the window.

“How’s your friend Logan doing?”

Roman held back a twitch. “He’s… improving.” He said with a tone that indicated perhaps they shouldn’t be talking about this.

“Talk to him about this. He was always the one with the solutions. Now get out of my office before I assign you to a task force or… something.”

“Whatcha drawing Virgil?” asked the bleeding demon whose brown hair was in desperate need of washing now.

“Pat, why don’t you go wash your hair in the river over there?” Virgil asked as he dipped his pen in ink and made another slash in the cloth he was marking. “You gotta stay clean or it’ll get infected.”

“But I wanna know what you’re doing!”

Virgil sighed. “If I tell you will you go wash your scalp?”

“Yeah buddy. I will.”

Virgil motioned for his friend to sit next to him on the sand and then he pointed a long black nail at the cloth and traced it along a specific line.

“See that? That’s a map. There’s the flip side of one of my rivers. There’s the human city of New York. There’s the east coast of large human country. There’s a place called Florida full of things that make no sense and there’s where a big mansion is that a bad exorcist lives in. Satisfied, Patton?”

Patton just nodded and went to do what he had promised.

Virgil’s face was hard to read because of his purely black eyes. He folded his makeshift map and took a deep breath.

“I know you wouldn’t like this, so why do I keep doing it? They did that to you. I guess that’s why. G’bye buddy.”

And he vanished into the sand.

“It’s dark as hell in here.” Roman said, stepping into an office.

“I wonder why.” said a voice from behind a desk shaped thing. “And what you would consider ‘Hell’ is actually much brighter than this.”

“Logan…”

“The light switch is to your left, by the bookcase. I think you’d remember that by now.”

Roman felt for the switch and took a moment to adjust to the light before sitting down on the small chair in front of the huge desk his friend was sitting behind.

“So what do you need? You never visit at work unless you need something.” Logan said, typing away at a typewriter with only nine keys.

“Well you’re right about that but the day ended twenty minutes ago.”

Logan felt for a watch on his right wrist and the placement of the balls near the center and on the side told him that is was indeed twenty past six.

“Oh. You’re right.” Logan grumbled.

“Don’t be so surprised.” Said Roman, a small laugh in his voice. “I’ve been known to be right from time to time.”

A ghost of a smile twitched at the corners of Logan’s mouth. “From time to time. So do you need something or not?”

“Yeah, I do.” Roman admitted smugly.

“Well what is it?”

“You know more about the major demons than anyone else and your… condition. I know you have to open your eyes sometimes, Lo. And I know, I know you don’t like to talk about it, but I was wondering about a specific demon. One of the big ones.”

Logan’s posture became even more proper than usual and it became clear he was now focusing on his breathing.

“Would this… be the one that has been targeting executioners?” he asked.

“Yes, and I have my suspicions who it is. I’ve seen him, Logan. I think it was Virgil, the guide. He fit all the old stories. Disappearing in shadows like sand, ripped clothes, veins of black on white hands. Dead eyes like they were the void itself. It had to be him. Please, you know I’m right. I’ve got to be right.”

There was a pause.

“Yes, I think you’re right. I wish you weren’t. Is what you saw… was he wearing a distressed jacket held together with patches of purple fabric?”

Roman leapt up and took his friend’s hand.

“Yes! Yes! You’ve seen him?”

Logan sighed. “Just as dramatic as you ever were. Yes, I’ve seen him. We live in the middle of his territory. He walks around with a demon that’s almost human but not quite and has a huge gash in its head. I must admit I’ve stared at it. It’s one of the things about the mirror world that are more difficult to unsee. And there are a lot of things there that are difficult to unsee there.”

“Can you take me to him?”

“I’d rather not, Roman. Especially since we’re on the second floor right now and if I open my eyes it will look like there is a rather large pit of spiders underneath me.”

Roman began shaking a little in his expensive boots.

“Sp-spiders?”

Virgil blew a spider off the branch next to him. Creepy little thing. They weren’t any less disturbing here in the mortal world.

He fingered the crescent shaped pendant and ball chain around his neck absentmindedly, letting his nails rub together on his right hand as he gently held his left thumbnail in his mouth. He crouched in the tree and watched the old manor with its pristine white walls. This probably used to be a plantation of some kind. One where the strange human practice of slavery used to take place. Say what you want about demons, but they always give payment of some kind. They never owned each other.

There was usually only one resident here. But tonight there seemed to be two. One of whom seemed to never look around. They both felt like they were full of demonic energy of some kind, but very different. It seemed the executioner had willingly let it in while the other had taken it on involuntarily. The other one was innocent. Should he really strike tonight?

Maybe. There was time.

“If he knows where you live and somehow got past the protective barriers I set up for you then why did you ever come back here?” Logan asked, adjusting his sunglasses and then going back to feeling the raised bumps the strange device he was holding kept raising from a few clusters of holes on the end.

“Where else am I supposed to go? And you know how I work. I face danger head on.” Roman retorted.

Logan moved the device along a wall.

“All I’m saying is it could be beneficial if you were to disappear. You’ve failed to kill a demon and said demon is out to kill people of your occupation of whom there are less than two hundred in the entire world. With the way it’s going it looks like that number could be whittled down to zero and… hold on. Oh my.”

“He’s here isn’t he?” Roman said.

“Are both of you blind?”

The two humans jumped and Roman wheeled around to see the demon from last week. Roman reached into his boot and pulled out a blood red dagger which he immediately threw with deadly accuracy. Unfortunately for him, Virgil was extremely good at dodging.

“Where’s your blade hand?” Virgil asked casually landing on top of a shadow from a lamp on the wall.

“That is only supposed to be used in dire situations.” Logan said in a serious tone and turning his head to Roman for emphasis. His guess as to where Roman’s face was only ended up being off by about an inch. Roman pushed his head back into place out of annoyance.

“Can you save your couples bickering for another time?” Virgil said. “I’m kind of considering killing one of you.”

“We’re not a couple, we’re friends, and as exorcists we’re used to life threatening or even soul threatening situations. So why don’t you get on with whatever it is you’re doing?” Logan said, not wavering for a second.

“Spicy.” Virgil said, twiddling with the pendant around his neck. “I can see how you got cursed.”

Logan dropped his device and reached into his right pocket, pulling out a bright yellow stone on a ball chain like the type that would be used for dog tags.

“Et in lucem!” He said loudly and clearly.

A bright light flashed from the stone and Virgil actually found himself taking a step back. For a second all his senses went blank except for sight which was filled with a burning white. When the light cleared and his senses returned he looked around and felt. The humans had run, but not far.

How did the blind one even slow him down?

“How did you do that!?” Roman yelled as they ran through the house, turning on every light they could reach.

“Although the curse… Ow! Roman, did you move your couch since the last time I was here?”

“No, but the maid might’ve. She does an excellent job, I don’t want her to feel bad. Wait, what were you saying?”

Logan got up from where he’d fallen and started running again.

“If you and your employees haven’t moved anything else, I’ll tell you.” he said angrily.

They ran down the stairs into the basement.

“Hold on a moment, friendo. I need help with the door. Right behind you.” Roman said.

“You’re going to get poisoned by this shelter.” Logan grumbled, but he went to help anyways.

Logan knew where everything was here. His spacial memory served him well as he found the center of the large two foot thick door and began pulling on a large handle in the center of it. The door slowly started moving out of its hole in the wall and when it was enough for Roman to put his hand on the side he started pushing on it. When there was a space wide enough for them to get behind it Roman tapped his friend’s shoulder and they got behind the huge hulking door and pushed with all their might until it finally clanged shut.

Logan panted, leaning against the door as Roman turned the wheel in the center of it to lock it shut. The seeing man slumped to the floor and weakly reached up to press a black button on the wall that turned on floodlights that filled every corner of the bunker with light.

“So, the light? That, what was that stone?”

Logan swallowed. “Well, the curse, the curse may make it only possible to see the demon’s world but… I think it helps with spell casting. I’ve grown stronger at the cost of real sight. And they say being hurt emotionally makes you better at magic. You know I‘ve never been one for strong emotions but…”

Logan choked on his words and pulled off his sunglasses to rub at his face. He opened his eyes and Roman was glad Logan couldn’t see him wince at the burn marks around his eyes and the milky whiteness of his pupils.

“But you can open your eyes here.” Roman said, putting his hand on the other man’s shoulder. “We’re underground. There’s nothing to see.”

Logan’s voice broke as he said “We’ve had this conversation a thousand times you half-wit. And there’s a… a demon out there, trying to take you from us and… oh God. Not now.”

Tears started flowing.

“Why now? Why here?” Logan begged as he hugged his knees on the floor.

Roman let him take a moment. He would have liked hugs and kind nothings whispered if that were him, but he had learned over the years that Logan wasn’t like that. He just needed a moment to compose himself.

After a moment there was a deep breath and Logan replaced his sunglasses.

“The stone was a citrine. One that actually came from the sun. They’re pretty rare. Now, how’re the spells?”

He stood up and walked to a double sided bookcase in the center of the room. He started touching the spines, reading them.

Roman sighed and tapped him on the shoulder.

“I’m right here, genius. It’s faster if you just tell me the book you’re looking for.”

“Oh, right.” Logan stopped touching the books with a hand gesture that suggested mild embarrassment. “Banishing spells level alpha, 30th edition.”

Roman searched for about two seconds, saw the braille copy, and then pulled it out and dropped it onto the dining table sitting next to them. It landed with a loud slam, as it was about as tall as an atlas and as thick as an unabridged dictionary.

“Remind me again how you memorized over half of this.” Roman said.

Logan started feeling for page numbers and said “Unlike some people, I actually studied at academy instead of trying to steal from the armory.”

“I take that as a personal offense.” Roman said. “You’re getting better at that. Well done.”

Logan presumably found the page he was looking for and started reading it.

“I worry about where your priorities lie.”

Virgil considered the door carefully. There was all kinds of messy stuff painted on it in multiple languages. Latin, ancient Greek, old English, old Norse, several hieroglyphs from African, North and South American languages. He even recognized a little bit of old Mesopotamian. The Mesopotamians were older than him. Where did the humans get all this stuff?

Well whatever all this said it was obviously spells meant to keep demons out. Darn them. He couldn’t even sense any darkness inside. Except for… it was risky. Would it be worth it?

Of course. It had to be. It had to be.

Logan gestured for Roman to come over and he ran his hand over a specific type of pentagram symbol made out of dots.

“Can you make it out? Do we need to look in the regular print one?” Logan asked.

“No, I can make it out” Roman responded. “Where’s that one?”

“On the bookcase. See if it’s intact.” Logan ordered.

Logan heard a couple of clicks of boots on the tile floor and then an uneasy “Uh, Lo?”

Logan sighed. “What now?”

“It’s sort of bleeding. Black. And the center’s smudging as I’m looking at it.”

Logan hit his fist against the desk. “Crap. Well perhaps we should…”

There was a grinding sound of something metal being pulled apart and books hitting the floor. Logan gripped the side of the table as he felt the temperature in the room drop. A magical whoosh came from where Roman had been standing.

“Roman? Did you put on the ring? Roman!”

Logan got no answer but heard metal hitting metal and then metal hitting wood. Crap. Roman had attacked him. He can’t shoot a spell at that. While Roman is using that blade he’s susceptible to spells meant for demons.

Logan picked up the huge book and began running with it. He felt air move and dodged something. What, he did not know, but he managed to reach the door and through pure adrenaline rush turn the handle and yank it open with one arm.

It still took him several seconds though, long enough for something in the battle behind him to change and his shirt collar to be grabbed. He tried throwing the book behind him but he couldn’t aim correctly and in a moment he felt long nails pushing into his wrists and some shaped piece of metal fitting perfectly around the curve of his neck. Whoever was holding him smelled like fresh rain and tobacco smoke mixed with axe deodorant.

“Listen to what I have to say, and the witch doesn’t get dragged into the mirror world.” Virgil hissed.

Logan heard the sound of a blade scraping slowly on metal. It seemed like Roman was running his blade arm along the bookcase to think. Logan scoffed, feigning confidence.

“Honestly, who calls us witches anymore? And you wouldn’t open a portal here. We’re underground. And if you make a move towards the stairs he’ll strike.”

The blade came closer to his neck. It was in danger of breaking skin. Logan knew too well what that felt like.

“Would it be so hard for the scholar to shut his mouth please?” Virgil said. “I just have something to say.”

Logan wanted to swallow but was afraid that could push the blade into his throat enough to do damage to it. He remembered that five years ago he would have been looking. Noticing every tiny detail. He would be able to read Roman’s face and know exactly what was needed and why. They could communicate with their eyes. He could see where to aim if a spell was needed but now nothing. If he opened his eyes here all he saw was darkness.

“What do you have to say, Virgil?” came Roman’s voice.

“Oh, so you figured out who I am. Surprised much?”

“Not really. Well, don’t know why you’re doing this.”

The blade relaxed and Logan dared himself to take deeper breaths. The voice behind him was laced with a deep frustration.

“You… I overreacted to something. Badly.”

“You murdered ten of my coworkers.” Roman said forcefully.

“Like I said, I might have overreacted.” Virgil said.

“You don’t exactly sound sorry.” Logan growled.

“Will the witch please shut his mouth?” Logan heard as the blade began resting against his skin again and the nails buried themselves deeper into his wrists.

“So what do you want? Just let him go.” Roman demanded.

“Well what I want is the head of every executioner in convenient carrying bags that I can throw into the pit of spiders.” Virgil hissed, getting a shudder out of Logan, “But I can see now that might not be the best course of action, or what Patton would want me to do.”

Logan’s breathing slowed and his heart sank. He wished he could see what Roman’s face looked like. Probably not as defeated as his own. Roman didn’t see. Didn’t see what happened on the other side.

After a painful pause Virgil continued.

“Patton is a friend. He’s a very good friend. A mentor or… something along those lines. He’s the reason I started helping humans out in the first place. One of your filth tried to kill him because he made a mistake. And now he’s worse than dead. There’s nothing left there. He doesn’t remember one day to the next. I need you to fix him. Both of you.”

“Why in the Hell do you think we would help you? I don’t kill without cause but you sure seem to be doing your best to give me a reason.” Roman hissed.

“I thought you might say that, so I took the time to figure out something that might give you a little motivation.”

Roman looked over at his best friend since grade school and reached out and took his hand. Logan didn’t shy away, most likely knowing this was more for Roman than himself.

“You don’t have to do this for me, Roman.” Logan said.

“It’s important to you, so it’s important to me. I know I tend to be selfish but… you want this. I can tell.”

“If that’s what you want.” Logan said simply.

Virgil continued kicking around in the dirt.

“Uh, just like me to forget to leave a marker. Where in the Earth did I… oh. I should probably pay more attention to that.”

He kicked a fake bush over with his bare foot and revealed a small hole that seemed to be covered with purple plastic wrap.

“Wait a minute. The witch could have opened his eyes and told me where it is. What…”

“Do you think I have no sense of humor?” Logan asked.

The king of darkness smiled, showing his pointed needle-like teeth.

“Oh, you are going to live to regret that, Logan.” he said. “Well, everybody in.”

He jumped into the hole and the cling wrap looking cover didn’t move for an instant as he disappeared into it. Roman led Logan to the hole and he jumped in. Roman took a moment and then followed suit.

He immediately fell over, but it was like falling over after standing on your head. He looked up and saw he had fallen feet first out of the largest dead tree he had ever seen.

“Roman? Oh my.”

Roman turned around and Logan had removed his sunglasses. His eyes were still burned and the pupils were still milky white but he was… looking at him.

“You… you’ve got a scar on your arm.”

Nothing more had to be said. Logan could only see this world, so when he was here he could use his sight. Virgil gestured for them to follow.

Logan was right, Roman decided. Hell isn’t that dark. Well, this wasn’t technically Hell but it was close enough. The sun was a burning red like it was dying. Virgil kept jumping in front of them to prevent them from falling in hidden holes or canyons filled with magma or insects or any other number of unsavory things. The shrubbery and trees all seemed to be watching. Low level demons whether humanoid or animistic ran away in Virgil’s presence and if they dared to come close he hissed and pulled the chain off his neck turning it into a scythe or curved sword depending on the threat. Several monkey-like green things tried to carry Logan and Roman off several times but they could fend for themselves against small demons and so far Virgil had kept his promise and helped them when they needed it.

They walked for over an hour like this, mostly in silence. After the first hour attacks became less frequent as the landscape became more barren. Roman asked something that had been on his mind.

“Virgil? Is this what your daily commute consists of?”

“I was wondering that as well.” Logan chimed in. “I have seen you occasionally when I opened my eyes by accident or by choice and you seem to cover a large area.”

Virgil jumped off a ledge but held his sword out to stop the humans from following him. He calmly struck the head off of a cat-like thing and then gestured for the other two to follow him.

“Shadow travel. Humans can’t do it.” He said and then kept leading the way.

“So, how many humans have you led through here?” Roman asked, shaking a little green goblin off of him and fending it off with a red knife.

Virgil shrugged as Logan murmured a spell that made the goblin shoot off of Roman like a rocket.

“A few thousand probably? I don’t count.” the demon said before starting a climb up a small rocky ledge.

When they reached the top of the ledge Logan looked like he was about ready to pass out and Roman was rubbing his hands and trying not to think about if any part of him was bleeding.

“Home sweet home. This way.” Virgil said.

He led them through a small grove of black and purple trees, crouching and looking around every so often like demons tend to do and then led them to a wide expanse covered in black sand. A river of lava on one far end and a river of what looked like water on the other. Both rivers were so far away you could just spot them if you climbed a tall tree and shielded your eyes from the red sunlight.

Virgil led them through the course sand for about a mile, bringing them through another grove of trees and finally to a battered old house that seemed to be made of planks of black wood and a lot of hope.

“Why doesn’t it fall down?” Logan asked, clearly concerned.

Virgil just shrugged and jumped forward, landing right in front of the door. The humans had to run to get there as he opened it and they were told to get inside.

The inside was plain. The walls had small holes and the floor was stone. There was a small pile of bones in the corner, some of unknown shapes. There were pieces of paper, pens, and canvas stacked against another wall and along another there was a pile of rags with a sleeping figure on it.

Virgil put his necklace on and then tenderly approached the bed. He gently rocked the shoulder of the person lying there.

“Hey buddy. Hey. Hi. We’ve got some visitors.”

There was a sniff. “Hmmm? Humans?”

“Yes buddy, humans. Can you say hi?”

The groggy figure that sat up seemed to be both more and less human looking than his friend. His brown hair was matted with dry blood. His red and brown eyes seemed strangely human, especially in comparison to Virgil’s whose eyes were just blank. He wore a neat blue dress shirt and cargo pants with formal shoes. He wore a cardigan over his dress shirt that was far too big for him and would have made him look cozy were it not for the light blue color of his veins. His nails weren’t nearly as long as Virgil’s but they ended in a point and looked like they could easily cause some lasting damage.

“Hi.” It said. “Are we friends?”

“Well we just met your acquaintance but…” Logan began before Roman stepped on his foot.

“Uh, I mean… Yes of course. You must be Patton.” Logan said, trying to not express his pain.

“You can see.” Patton said before trying to lay back down and sleep again.

Virgil pulled him up a little forcefully. “You can’t sleep right now.” He said firmly.

Usually that blank face was unreadable but at this moment even with black eyes the shadow demon looked both incredibly concerned and dangerously hopeful. Patton fell asleep in his grip.

He let out a sigh. “All he does is sleep and mess around now. He’s like a human little kid and he can’t remember things from one day to the next. I really want to blame you but he wouldn’t want me to do that. Fix him. Make him better.”

The force in those last words made the exorcists take a step back. Some of the light in the dim little shack ran away in fear and it became even more dim. Black tears fell out of Virgil’s eyes and the shadows started to move.

“Make it better! Fix what you did!” He demanded.

Both humans were frightened by the sudden change but kept their composure. The prize here outweighed the risk. They had discussed this beforehand. Find a way to fix the head wound and Virgil would stop killing executioners. If Patton returned to normal afterwards, there was a chance Logan could see blue skies again.

Logan stepped forward and took his satchel off of his shoulder, trying not to make any sudden movements. Further enraging an already angry demon is beyond suicidal.

He knelt on the hot floor next to Patton and made him sit up. There was a sleepy questioning hum and then the red and then the red and brown eyes opened sleepily.

“Hi.” he said groggily. “You’re a human.”

“Yes, and I’m here to help.” Logan said firmly but gently. “Can you hold yourself up?”

Patton nodded and did what he was told. Logan looked back at Roman who nodded and pulled a hidden red knife out of his belt.

“Liar!” Virgil exclaimed as Roman found a sickle at his throat.

“It’s not for your blood!” Logan said. “It’s for Roman’s! Put that away or he stays like this!”

After an intense moment Virgil slowly lowered his weapon and turned it back into a moon pendant before putting it back on.

Logan started murmuring in several dead languages, blending them together and making a hypnotic chanting sound as he wrapped a blue and silver cloth around Patton’s eyes and then over his head. Roman knelt next to him and rolled up his sleeve. He waited for Logan to stop chanting before handing him the magic knife.

“Just get it over with.” He said, covering his eyes with the other arm.

He bit back a cry of pain as the cursed blade swiped across his skin, stinging like acid and moving through his veins. He only dared to open his eyes when it was bandaged.

Virgil was putting on the bandages. Roman gave a confused look.

“Hurts, doesn’t it?” Virgil asked. “Getting a taste off your own medicine?”

“I’ve gotten it before.” Roman said, looking over.

They sat in the far corner of the room, watching Logan work with copper beads covered in Roman’s blood. Watched the wrapping and unwrapping of the wound several times and various stones being used.

“Is there any kind of sense to what he’s doing?” Virgil asked quietly.

“Oh now you talk?” Roman asked skeptically. “You want my head on a plate, remember Coraline?”

“Coraline?” The demon asked.”

“You know. With the button eyes and.. oh never mind.”

“Button eyes?” Virgil asked. “Like as in, those things on your shirt being eyes?”

“Well they’re large and black but yes.”

“That’s really disturbing. I do not want to see that.” Virgil said, disgust in his voice.

“Disturbing?” Roman asked. “Look who’s talking. Look where you live.”

Virgil shrugged. “You know, humans have been trying to point that out to me for centuries when they accidentally end up here. How horrifying it is. The only reason so many things ever attack humans is because they’re humans. When demons go into the mortal world they’re attacked because they’re demons. It can be frightening and stupid. Aren’t there exorcists that lead peaceful demons back or something? Kind of what I do in reverse? This is just a place. The mirror world is just a place. There are things to be afraid of both places. If someone likes you, if they hate you, if your clothes are going to fall apart, if you’re gong to eat tomorrow. All the same thing.”

“Sorry I think I fell asleep for a second, what was that, Tim Burton?” Roman said, a smug grin on his face.

“Oh screw off.” Virgil said, rolling his eyes. “Hey, what’s that?”

“Looks like he’s almost finished and… Hey!”

Virgil used Roman as a rest to push himself up on and leapt to the other side of the room.

“Your stupid nails dug into my scalp!” Roman exclaimed.

Nobody was paying him any attention. That was the problem with other people being hurt. They always got the spotlight.

Patton yawned and opened his eyes. He felt like he had just woken up from a bad dream he couldn’t quite remember, which was strange because demons dreaming is a rare thing indeed

There was a familiar pair of black eyes with a hopeful look that he had never seen before.

“Hey kiddo. What am I doing at your house?” He asked. “Do I smell an exe- oh!”

Virgil had engulfed the older spirit in a bone crushing hug and was breathing too hard. His face was one of shock and he gripped his friend’s hair and held on for dear life.

“I didn’t know you gave hugs.” Patton said happily. “What’s the big fuss? And your nails, buddy. The… the nails.”

The shadow demon let go out of embarrassment and seemed to mentally curl in on himself. “Sorry, Pat. You’ve just been gone for a while. Maybe I have been too.”

“Gone!? You killed five percent of the executioners on the force!” Roman exclaimed. “And…”

“Easy, Roman. It’s in the nature of demons. That’s what a temper tantrum looks like.” Logan said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

A quick explanation and a long trek through the same territory later, all four of them stood at the portal. Patton was giving his younger friend a death glare that reminded both humans of when Logan’s mother got particularly “disappointed”.

“Say it.” Patton said firmly.

“I’m… I’m sorry for attacking you, and killing your coworkers. And stealing your sewing supplies to alter my clothes” Virgil said, reluctance in his words.

“And I’m sorry for stabbing you in the chest and that one of my friends hurt your friend.” Roman said with a similar tone of defiance.

“Now, about my eyes…” Logan started.

“Oh yeah.” Virgil said.

He dug around in his hoodie pockets and pulled out a sheathed knife and handed it to Patton.

“Awww. You hung onto it for me?!” Patton squealed.

“Yup. I definitely prefer angry demons.” Logan said in disgust.

Patton unsheathed the blade which was leaf shaped and about the size of his hand. It was rainbow like and changed colors with the angle you looked at it like oil on asphalt.

“This is gonna look a little dangerous but just go with it, okay?” Patton said.

“I have my suspicions but very well. I have a trained exorcist executioner with me and I’m already blind in the other world so what do I have to lose?” Logan said.

“Close your eyes.” Patton said.

He pushed the flat of the blade against each eye putting gentle pressure on it for a few seconds and then told Logan to open his eyes. They had pupils again.

“You conspired with a demon? Two demons? One of them the fiend that’s been killing our kind?” The superior asked.

Logan tried his hardest not to look down at Roman clutching at his stomach on the ground. This was not how he wanted to spend his first day with his normal sight back. In the basement of a stone church where no sunlight could get in while his friend got kicked repeatedly with a fashionable pair of steel toed boots. Honestly, disciplinary action for executioners had to be mended. All other departments had gotten rid of physical punishment ages ago.

“Mx,” Logan said, trying to stay professional. “if I may, we have solved the issue, and preserved a valuable resource for humans that might wander into the…”

“I don’t wanna hear your intellectual mumbo jumbo silver tongue right now, Sanders. You got your sight back, congratulations, but you acted against orders to do it. You and Prince here are in a world of trouble. If I could take a knife to your skin too I would.”

Logan adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses with his middle finger and then helped his friend up.

“You’re welcome, for solving your little problem. I’ll see my supervisor later.” Logan said coldly.

He put one of Roman’s arms over his shoulders and supported him on their way out.

They paused at the church doors. The abstract stained glass shone all around them like a kaleidoscope. Roman had recovered enough to stand on his own but still clutched at his side.

“So nerd, are you ready to see the sky again? It’s about dawn.

“The pollution in this area should make the sunrise nice to watch.” Logan said, still not opening the door.

“Just like you to take the fun out of it. Go ahead. You’ve waited half a decade for this. You always talk about logic. Is it logical for you to not look?”

Logan flung the doors open and he had remembered correctly. They did face east. And he had never felt so much melancholy and happiness before now.

“He’s very sorry!” Patton called out as he and Virgil ran through trees.

“That’s not going to help anything Pat.” Virgil hissed as he pulled him inside the shadow of a tree and they flattened out. “Humans work differently. Especially exorcists. Why don’t you get that? Do humans ever summon us to make friends?”

“I always hope they will.” Patton murmured.

“Aha!” came a voice.

“Oh for the love of… move!” Virgil ordered, pushing the other demon along.

He could hide in the shadows but not move through them. What had they sprayed him with? If only he could have enough time to open a portal, or teleport or anything other than keep running.

It was all a blur. A missed shot. A flash of red blade. Patton jumping out of instinct. An already dark red blade dripping with even more blood. For the second time in his life Virgil saw his friend’s blood be absorbed into one of those accursed things but this time there was no movement. The axe hit just the right spot on the chest that even the strongest of demons couldn’t escape. He melted into the ground, leaving behind a pile of clothes, a blue and red stain, and his dagger.

There was a demonic screaming so loud and ungodly that Virgil could hardly believe it was coming out of his own mouth. He yanked the pendant off of his neck and began to move in a daze. The executioner with the axe fell, her chest cut clean open, the witch ran but but couldn’t escape. The marksman was shot through the mouth with his own gun and the two executioner trainees fell over, one of them bled out, the other was left with a broken leg.

Just as Virgil crushed their weapons and was about to hit the teen with a final blow he froze, his curved sword hovering above his head, ready to strike.

“No.” he murmured. “Stop. Breathe. It’s not too late.”

He put down his weapon and looked down at the trembling human. A normal apology wouldn’t work here. Humans typically didn’t go in killing sprees when something shocking happened. He had learned that the hard way.

“Your mentor killed my mentor.” He sighed. “I overreacted again.”

No response. Just blank terror.

“I’m going to take you to a hospital. Understand?” Virgil said, kneeling down. “A hospital. With doctors and hopefully therapists.”

To his surprise the young man allowed him to pick him up and carry him quickly to an emergency room parking lot.

“Now if you yell for help someone should probably come. I don’t…”

He couldn’t finish his statement so he just disappeared instead.

“I heard Logan disappeared.”

Roman jumped out of his skin and dropped the book he had been staring at.

“Demo- Virgil?” Roman said.

“That was pretty sudden.” Virgil said from the top of a table in Roman’s private library.

“What are you doing here?” Roman asked. “I’ve done nothing.”

“You’re reading.” Virgil noted.

“What of it?”

“What happened to Logan?”

Roman stared off into the distance for almost half a minute and then sucked in a breath through his nose.

“I haven’t seen him. At first I assumed he was just not keeping in touch. There’s a lot to go see after all, and work to do. But no one else has seen him either. It’s all very anticlimactic. I hate anticlimactic.”

“Patton’s dead.” Virgil said, chocking on the last word.

Roman didn’t move. “Why are you coming to me? One of the few humans who could kill you?”

“Because I overreacted again and I don’t know anyone else that would listen. He was my only friend. Where else do I go. It took me long enough to get myself to come here.”

“You?” Roman asked. “You are one of the ten most powerful spirits in history. A legend. The poet Virgil was named after you. And… you had difficulty approaching a human?”

“I have some issues.” Virgil murmured. “One of which is that my friend and mentor is dead, Mr. Prince. How in the Earth am I supposed to move on from that?”

“I don’t know if my best friend is alive.” Roman said. “You just got him back. Mine just got his sight back. And they’re gone.”

“No kidding, Sherlock.”

“Oh, so you do know something about human culture.”

“How can you sound so smug at a time like this?”

“Misery is the source of all comedy Jason Demon, that’s how.”

“I’m not Jason.”

“If you’re going to be bothering me you really need to learn more pop culture things because I reference them like all the time.”

People disappeared sometimes. It was always anticlimactic. Only a select few knew what happened afterwards. Those who were heard from again never said what happened.

Logan stared at the wall of the square cell. He had disappeared he supposed. No idea where he was or what exactly his charges were. Being blind had been much better than this. He could move and find meaning. If only there was more to tell.

Well, an unremarkable end to a boring life perhaps. No, his life hadn’t been boring. Thinking it had been anything other than extraordinary would be illogical.

“Let me help you. I know this guy.” Virgil urged, following Roman by walking along tree branches.

“No. I need to do this myself. Besides, if my superiors find out I’ve befriended a demon I could very well disappear and if I die before my time I want it to be dramatic.” Roman said.

“Who said we’re friends?” Virgil asked with a smirk.

“You visit my house regularly. I’ve cried in your arms. We fight things together and talk crap about human celebrities. What more is there?” Roman said.

“It’s only been six months. What’s that to humans? A hundred years?”

“Roughly.”

“Damn. You drop like flies. I’m gonna miss you I think. You’re like a puppy I’ve become attached to.”

“What kind of puppy?” Roman said playfully.

“A bloodhound.”

“Are you serious?” Roman said, completely solemn, “I’m clearly a poodle.”

That almost made Virgil fall right out of the tree.

“Now get lost. I kill things like this all the time without your help.”

“Okay I’ll just die of boredom then.” Virgil said before slipping into the shadows like falling sand.

Roman smiled and continued walking. The guide of the underworld could pretend he wasn’t dramatic all he wanted but that didn’t make it true.

Virgil slumped back on his pile of rags. He traced the edge of the dagger Patton had left behind. It changed color in the light just like it always did.

What was six months to a human?

Roman had told him the first six months is the hardest. Was that true? What about now? What about Roman? As aloof as he acted he was actually becoming pretty fond of the stupid over the top exorcist.

He really could be that dangerous, but still Virgil worried about him. He only had this friend for a small amount of time, and in that time he was destined to watch him wither away.

In the best case scenario of course.

Roman threw a dagger at the green tiger thing. It dodged. Crap.

He pulled out his ring and his upper left arm turned into a blood sword. The tiger snarled, smelling small amounts of demonic qualities. A traitor.

It pounced but Roman dodged, rolling away and missing the claws by inches. The tiger drooled and it’s saliva fizzled on the ground leaving dead patches. Perfect. just perfect.

Virgil showed up out of the shadows. He saw Roman and immediately thought he was in danger. He ran to help but then there was a squeak.

A puddle of green and black melted into the ground and ROman looked up.

“Did you follow me here? That’s… kind of rude.”

“No. I just knew where you were. That blade hand?”

Roman looked down at his arm. “What about it?”

“It hurts a lot. And it’s creepy.”

“Your face is creepy.” Roman said, pulling the ring off and looking in disgust at his pus covered arm. “Disgusting. I’ll need a shower at once. Goodnight, my friend. Please stop spying on me.”

Roman heard Virgil call over “We’re not friends, ape!”

“Whatever you say, poet.” Roman said, pulling a towel out of his bag.

“What do stones even do?” Virgil asked, flipping through bags. “Ugh. here’s the one that almost blinded me.”

“Nobody would be able to tell if you were blind.” Roman mumbled.

“Can we have one meeting where you don’t poke fun at my eyes?”

“Admit the sword hand is really cool.” Roman said, placing another braille book on the growing stacks on the bunker dining table.

“No. You became less human to be able to do that. It’s really disturbing.” Virgil said, flipping through a book.

“How do you read these?” he added in.

“Oh.” Roman said pausing for a moment. “It’s called braille. It’s a way to read by touching when eyesight is lost.”

He ran his hands along an otherwise blank cover.

“Phillis Wheatley. Well maybe I’ll keep this one. I don’t want to imagine I spent two years learning braille with him for nothing.”

“Why are you only going through his stuff he left here now?” Virgil asked. “I went through Patton’s house right away in case scavengers went through it. He had an actual house.”

“Maybe because I’m not a demon?” Roman asked.

Virgil recognized that sound. It was choking back a sob. Oh gods what is he supposed to do here? That comment stung a little but… oh no. Now he’s crying. What happens now? And, he dropped the books. Oh no. Now he has to say something.

“What… what do I…”

No, he’s not answering. He’s still crying. What does he need? Warmth? Virgil can’t provide that. He’s cold like ice. Understanding? He can’t give that. They may be friends now but it wasn’t like they could understand each other. What… what do you do?

“Do uh…”

Oh gosh is he about to attempt compassion? Ew. Abort. Abort! But there’s nowhere to escape here. The bookcase is still mangled and not providing any shade now the books are mostly gone. A friend. What would Patton do here? Probably hug. That’s not Virgil’s style. What is his style? Patton always told him what he needed. Humans don’t always do that.

“I’m sorry.”

Virgil looked up. Was Roman actually apologizing for something? He was. Roman Prince, the most narcissistic asshole he had ever befriended was apologizing for… crying?

“Why are you…”

“I’m supposed to be unshakable. But I suppose… when the ten months actually came I didn’t want it to. I thought…”

Roman gripped a huge spellbook in his hands and then clutched it to his chest and held on as if it could bring Logan back.

“Surely he would be one of the ones that came back. Logan can’t just disappear and die in such an anticlimax. That’s not what he does. Not what he… did. That’s not how he did things. He would go on his own terms. Not… whatever it is they do when people disappear. It happens so rarely these days we never thought..”

“You were putting off grieving for Logan.” Virgil realized.

“I suppose I was, now that I think about it.”

Roman woke up one morning strapped to a chair.

“Where…”

“Roman Prince, you have been charged with having personal relations with a demon and concealing your lineage.”

Roman couldn’t see anything. There was a bright light on him and the rest was darkness. It reminded him of being on stage as a young man. The audience can see you, but you can’t see the audience.

“How do you plead?”

“Am I being made to disappear?” Roman asked.

“How do you plead?”

“Where did you find proof of this?”

“How do you plead?”

“Get me my lawyer!”

There was a crash and a scream. Gunshots fired and there was the sound of an axe hitting stone. In a moment the lights turned back on and something cut the ropes tying him to the chair. Roman looked back.

There he was. In those stupid overly distressed black and purple clothes with patches all over them. He was like a badass emo ragdoll or something. He even had the blank button eyes.

“Prince doesn’t go quietly. Not on my watch.” Virgil said.

“Have there ever been darker angels than you?” Roman asked, standing up and rubbing his wrists.

“Save your painfully dramatic gratitude for later and start running, moron.”

They leapt through trees and over houses, never slowing down for a second. Finally sprinting down country roads, Virgil melting in and out of the darkness as Roman ran coming back every so often to get updates.

“Keep going. I don’t think you’re demon enough for me to shadow travel with you.”

“They’re a mile behind. You do use miles here, right?”

“And you complain about the weather in Gehenna. How is Florida this humid at night?

And on for several miles. Roman saved his breath and didn’t yell at the demon for his stupid commentary, but it was tempting.

They finally reached the manor house and Roman frantically began packing. Virgil even put on a backpack, a new experience for him, to carry a few spellbooks in braille they had set aside for an event like this.

“Is it possible to ever be comfortable wearing one of these?” The shadow king said as he struggled to adjust the straps without breaking a nail.

“No, let’s go!” Roman said, dragging Virgil outside.

Virgil hissed and panicked and Roman quickly let go of the demon’s arm.

“I’m sorry. I forgot you don’t like it when I touch you.”

Virgil took a moment to compose himself and then led Roman to a portal nearby. He gave roman permission to take his hand and they jumped through the purple cling wrap together.

Roman picked his nails with his knife, sitting on Virgil’s pile of rags.

“So why can’t you try to shadow travel with me?” He asked.

Virgil sighed. “I have told you way too many times. You’re only one sixteenth demonic. Probably less. It won’t work.”

“Oh you’re no fun.” Roman pouted. “You always think everything could end up in death or dismemberment.”

“Because it can.” Virgil responded like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“And you want to help me while I’m on the run?” Roman asked skeptically.

“Well… what are friends for?”

“Aha! So you admit that we’re friends!” Roman exclaimed dramatically.

“You know one of these days I’m gonna lose my patience and straight up eat you.”

“And I’m certain I will be delicious.” Roman said, a classy smile on his face.

“Nah, I won’t eat you.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re all we have left.” Virgil said solemnly.

Roman let out a dark chuckle. “And to think I stabbed you through the heart the first time we met.”

“I’m still sorry for all those killings.”

“I forgave you for that a long time ago.”

Virgil leaned against the wall. Roman couldn’t help but smile when that mouth curved upwards and showed just the smallest hint of pointed teeth.

They had no idea how, but it was going to be okay.

#sanders sides au #sanders sides #platonic prinxiety #prinxety #virgil sanders #anxiety sanders #the emo #prince sanders #roman sanders #the other roman #thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #fanfic #fan fic #fanfiction #fan fiction #roman wrote a thing

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briwhosaysni · 7 years ago

Note

for the writer post thing: platonic to not-so-platonic bedsharing ft. Juno and Peter, bonus points if they do it "for survival" (sharing heat, pretending to be married and having to do it so as not to be suspicious, etc). ps i love you and your writing!!! ❤✨

I’m so sorry this took so long! It ended up being a bit longer than expected. You probably don’t know this, anon, but I am weak for this trope. It’s one of those that I don’t care how many times I see it, I always love it. I put it below the cut because, like I said, long.

Also, you are far too kind.

Juno Steel spends a lot of time contemplating the terrible choices and moments of bad luck that lead him into bad situations, but usually there’s some sort of immediate threat to his or someone else’s life to distract him before he gets lost too deep in the dark pit of his own thoughts. This time, though, this time he has all night. Literally.

He has all night to think about losing his eye, about leaving that hotel room, about accepting that offer from O’Flaherty, about letting himself get sucked in as deep as he did, about trying to go behind O’Flaherty’s back and mess up his plans, about letting himself get discovered, about making the mistake of asking someone to help him disappear for a while, about not asking questions when they said they knew a guy, all of which led to his current position: hiding in an abandoned shack, out past even the edges of Old Town in the middle of the desert, with Peter goddamn Nureyev.

“Is this really the best hideout you could find, Nureyev?”

“Considering O’Flaherty’s sway and how much effort he’s putting into looking for you, yes. Out here there’s no cameras, no witnesses, no sign anyone has been here for years.” As he says this, he pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket and cleans a layer of sand and dust off a chair, grimacing slightly as he shakes it clean before sitting down.

“So how do you know about it?” Nureyev looks up.

“I was the last person here.” Juno’s expression shifts to one of confusion.

“But I thought you hadn’t been here until the mask case.”

“Rex Glass hadn’t been to Mars before then,” Nureyev corrects. “I, on the other hand, had on several occasions, during one of which I acquired this hideout.” Juno frowns as he looks around.

“Doesn’t exactly look up to your usual standards.”

“Yes, well, sometimes a nice hotel, or even a less than nice one, aren’t exactly options.” He gestures to Juno, one eyebrow raised. “Case and point.” Juno’s frown deepens as he turns away, looking around the space. It really is just a shack. One room, four walls, a small window, a floor and a roof, with a small outhouse outside he saw when they came in. Everything’s sealed tightly enough that they shouldn’t have to worry about wildlife or sandstorms, but the walls are thin enough for him to hear the wind outside, and feel a chill creeping into the air. There’s one medium-sized table with a lamp sitting on it, the only source of light, a couple chairs, a little counter area with some cupboards below it and a hot plate on top of it, which is hooked up to a solar battery on the floor. According to Nureyev, the cupboards are stashed with water bottles, non-perishable food, some blankets, and some other basic supplies. Enough to last them a few days, at least. Though hopefully they won’t have to stay out here that long. Being trapped in a space this small with Nureyev for several days is the last thing Juno needs. Off to one side is a space heater, just big enough to heat the room. It’s hooked up to the same solar battery as the hot plate, which is in turn hooked up to some solar panels on the roof. And, of course, there’s the bed. One bed. And not a particularly big one, either. Almost more of a cot, really. It’s going to be a long night. Juno is contemplating sleeping on the floor when the sound of Nureyev pulling things out of one of the cupboards interrupts his thoughts.

“Food?” he asks, holding a package towards Juno.

“It sure is.” Nureyev gives him a look.

“Do you want something to eat or not?” Juno sighs and walks over.

“I probably should, yeah. What do we have?”

“A lot of protein bars, some dried fruit, some canned vegetables, some powdered soup mix-” Juno grimaces.

“I’ve been off soup for a while. Just hand me one of those protein bars.” Nureyev gives him a weird look, but hands him one of the bars.

“Suit yourself.” Juno unwraps the bar and sits down while Nureyev pulls out a small pot and pours some water into it, turning the dial on the hot plate. He puts the water on to boil, and digs through the cupboards for a bowl, eventually settling for a mug instead. It’s weird, Juno thinks, watching him bustle around like that, doing something so mundane. So… domestic. Unsettling, even? It might not be the most accurate word for what he’s feeling, but he refuses to acknowledge it as anything else.

Once he finishes making the soup, Nureyev cleans off the other chair and sits at the table, where they eat in uncomfortable silence, interrupted only by Juno getting up to get another protein bar. With the initial shock at seeing each other again and the explanation of what Juno got himself in the middle of out of the way, there really isn’t much for them to talk about. Or rather there is, but neither of them is particularly keen on discussing it. There’s too much else to focus on, Juno insists to himself. Bigger things. More important things than his inability to get over the man sharing this room with him, and his regret and anger and other swirling emotions he refuses to name. So, he sits looking over some files he brought with him, and Nureyev rinses out the mug and pot before pulling out the blankets, and cleaning and setting up the bed.

“Find anything useful yet?” he eventually asks, growing bored of the silence.

“Nope,” Juno replies. He may not like the silence much either, but it’s sure as hell better than the place he knows any conversation between them will lead eventually. After another minute of silence, Nureyev sighs.

“Are you cold? I think I’m going to turn on the heater.”

“Go ahead.” He goes and turns the dial, only to pause before turning it off, and then on again.

“Oh dear.”

“What?” Nureyev moves to the side and turns the dial again, allowing Juno to see that the on light isn’t so much as blinking.

“The heater isn’t working.”

“You sure it’s plugged in right?”

“It should be,” Nureyev replies, going over to the battery and leaning down to inspect it. “Wait, why isn’t this…” He flips the switch off and on again, and adjusts some dials before freezing, his expression one of someone who just made a very unfortunate realization. Juno doesn’t like that look.

“What is it?”

“Well…”

“Nureyev…”

“Do you remember how I said I haven’t been out here in several years?”

“Yeeees?”

“And how there’s a fairly thick layer of dust both inside and outside?” After a moment, it clicked.

“No.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“But wait, it can’t be because you didn’t clean the panels before we got here. The hot plate worked.”

“Well, it would have taken some time for them to become too dusty. It… would appear it had just enough power to run the hot plate for a while before it ran out.” Juno sits silently for a moment, trying to fight down the anger and panic.

“Nureyev,” he begins slowly, “are you telling me that we now have no heat in here, because you used the last of our power making soup?”

“In my defense, I had no idea-”

“Clearly! Do you know how damn cold it gets out here at night?!” So much for staying calm.

“Well obviously I do, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered having the heater out here.”

“I’m not sure you do, because if you did, you would be more worried about the likely possibility of us dying of hypothermia!” Nureyev rolls his eyes.

“We’re not going to die of hypothermia, Juno.”

“Really? Because there’s not exactly enough daylight left to charge that battery enough to last us through the night,” Juno argues, gesturing to the blue light of sunset visible outside the window.

“Perhaps not, but being inside means we won’t have to deal with wind chill, we do have blankets, and if things get dire, well…”

“Well?” Nureyev sighs.

“Sharing body heat is always an option.” Juno stares blankly, his thoughts going from racing to a complete halt fast enough to give him mental whiplash. Peter sighs again. “Look, it’s not my preferred option either, but it’s not like we won’t be sharing the bed anyway.” Juno shakes off his initial surprise, feeling it replaced by the absolute certainty that that particular option can not come to pass.

“Will we? Because I was planning on taking the floor.” Nureyev raises an eyebrow in a look Juno finds infuriating.

“You’re not sleeping on the floor, Juno.”

“Says who?” Nureyev rolls his eyes.

“I would hope your better judgement, but clearly that isn’t the case. Honestly, Juno, much as neither of us want to, I think we can handle it for one night. Especially if sleeping on the floor and hypothermia are the other options.” Internally, Juno is panicking. He just hopes that it’s not showing externally. Because he’s not sure he can handle it, even for just one night. Especially for just one night, honestly. He’s literally dreamed about being that close to Nureyev again, but he can’t. He can’t. Because he knows if he does, all his better judgement and resolve will fly right out that tiny window, and that won’t be good for either of them.

“Yeah, well, hope what you want,” he says, gathering his wits. “But I’ll take my chances with a couple blankets and the comfy embrace of the wall.” He walks over and grabs two of the four blankets off the bed, wrapping himself up in them before settling onto the floor, leaning against the wall, and opening up the file again. Nureyev huffs.

“Obstinate as a child. Fine. I won’t try to make you do anything. God knows it would be a fruitless effort anyways.” Juno ignores him, instead focusing more intently on the file. Peter pulls out a book and starts reading, and they stay silently like that for another couple hours. Juno tries to lose himself in the information, but it’s proving difficult. His mind keeps wandering back to the thief on the other side of the room. He might not be as reluctant to share a bed as Juno is, but he seems just about as happy about the idea. Juno wouldn’t admit it, but it stings a little, even if it is his own fault. Why did Nureyev even agree to help him, anyway? Sure, he might not have known who it was when he came to Mars, but once they realized what was going on, why didn’t he leave? Even if he wanted to help, he could’ve given Juno the forged documents and information he needed and left. He didn’t have to stick around. Maybe he was just worried about Juno screwing something up, so he wanted to keep an eye on him. That seems more likely to Juno than a lot of the alternatives.

By the time Nureyev says he’s turning off the lamp and lays down, Juno’s starting to feel cold, but he refuses to say anything about it. After all, his only other option is, well… it’s not like he doesn’t want to get on that bed with Nureyev, he finally admits to himself. The thought of being wrapped in his arms again is… But that’s the problem, isn’t it? “Again.” And last time, well… after what he’d done to him, and what he’d done since, he probably deserves to freeze to death. Peter probably just wants to keep him from it because he wanted to stop Ramses too, and Juno has inside information. Yeah, that’s it.

Lost in thought as he is, Juno barely even notices when he starts shivering. It isn’t until his breath starts shuddering from it that he really notices. Apparently, he isn’t the only one.

“Juno? Are you alright?”

“F-fine.”

“You don’t s-sound fine.”

“Yeah, w-well, neither d-do y-you.” Juno hears a sigh, and the creak of the bed frame as Nureyev gets up. He crouches down in front of Juno, puts a hand on his shoulder, and sighs again.

“Juno, you’re shaking like a leaf.”

“I’ll be f-fine.” In the dim light from the window, Juno can see Nureyev’s bright eyes boring into his.

“You will not, Juno. We’re both f-freezing, and you know it. Just… c-come to bed. Please. Neither of us can do any good if we f-freeze to death.”

“I-”

“And if you don’t,” Nureyev interrupts, “Then I’ll just lay down with you on the floor.” Juno closes his mouth, and spends a moment considering his options. Eventually, he sighs.

“Fine.”

“Thank you.” They make their way back to the bed, and lay the blankets over the both of them. Peter suggests they remove their jackets and lay them on top of the blankets, and Juno reluctantly agrees. It’s just their jackets, after all. They still have plenty of other clothes on. Initially, they lay back to back, but it soon becomes apparent that that’s not going to provide enough heat transfer. Some uncomfortable shifting later, Juno ends up with his front pressed against Nureyev’s back, his arms around his waist, their legs tangled together. He refuses to call it spooning, even in his own head. That implies too much emotional investment. It’s just… the most efficient way to share heat, is all. And it is finally getting warmer. They’ve both stopped shivering, for which Juno is very grateful. He isn’t sure he could handle having Nureyev shaking while pressed against him like this. The air on his face feels much colder now, too, and after a moment’s hesitation, he presses his face into Nureyev’s back. He takes a deep breath, and god that cologne. It’s just as intoxicating as the first time he smelled it; spiced and sharp and slightly musky, foreign and familiar all at once. Unconsciously, he holds Nureyev a little tighter, and he feels a hand start to settle over his own, before quickly moving away, like he’d gone to hold his hand, and then remembered where they were, and why, and why that was a bad idea. Why this whole thing was a bad idea.

No it’s not, Juno reminds himself. It’s just a way to share heat. That’s it. Nothing else. He knows it’s a lie, but at least it’s a comforting one. At least it keeps him from giving into his impulse to breath in that cologne, and kiss the nape of that neck, and let the apology inside him come spilling out, and beg Peter for another chance, please, just one more chance, because he never wanted to hurt him. He never meant to. Never thought he would actually care enough for it to be worth more than a couple days’ sadness before moving on to the next grand adventure.

Peter’s breathing is slow and even, but in a measured way, rather than the gentle rise and fall of sleep. Juno can’t help but wonder if his heart is beating as hard as his own traitorous one. With as close as they’re pressed together, Juno can’t help but notice how tense Peter is, every muscle taut, as if ready to run away, or bracing for a blow. Juno can’t help but feel a little sick at the thought of that being because of him.

I’m so sorry, he thinks. I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Suddenly, Peter tenses even more against him.

“What?” he murmurs. Oh. Shit. Maybe he thought it a little more… verbally than intended.

“I… I’m… sorry.”

“For what?” Peter asks, his tone guarded.

“For…” Juno sighs. “Everything, really. For dragging you into this, even though I didn’t mean to. For… for leaving. For…” he huffs a bitter laugh. “For being the goddamn mess that I am, really.”

“Juno…” The hand moves back to rest on top of his, but gently, so he could easily pull away if he wanted. He doesn’t want to.

“I just… I’m sorry. I know it doesn’t fix anything, but you deserve to hear it.” Peter is silent for a moment that feels like it stretches on forever, before he finally replies.

“Thank you.” It’s quiet, but it rings in Juno’s ears. “You’re right that it doesn’t fix it. Any of it. But…” slowly, he twines their fingers together. “I do appreciate it. I… I’m not sure I can quite forgive you. Not yet anyways. But it is good to hear.” It’s… better than Juno was expecting, if he’s being honest. Peter would be well within his rights to hate him. Should hate him, really. And while it’s not forgiveness, it is a little bit of a relief.

They fall into silence again. Neither knows how long it lasts, both too lost in their own thoughts to even try to keep accurate track of the time. Juno’s just barely starting to drift off when Peter speaks again.

“I missed you, you know.” It’s so quiet, it takes a second for Juno to even be sure he heard it.

“I…” He swallows the lump in his throat. “I missed you too.” Peter shifts in his arms, turning to look at him out of the corner of his eye.

“Did you?” Juno nods.

“I did. I… I couldn’t stop thinking about you, honestly.” It’s hard to admit, but it’s worth it, because Peter rolls to face him fully, their faces dangerously, breathtakingly close.

“I thought about you as well,” Peter says, and the small shiver that goes through Juno has nothing to do with the cold, and everything to do with the feeling of Peter’s breath washing over him. “More than I wanted to, if I’m being honest. It was rather distracting.”

“Sorry,” Juno murmurs, his eyes darting down to the faint outline of Peter’s lips that he can see in the darkness. When he looks back, Peter is staring at him in a way that makes his breath catch. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs again. He doesn’t know who closes the distance, only that there’s suddenly a pair of silken lips pressed against his, and it’s so familiar and so relieving that he’s worried he might cry from it. His hand moves to tangle in Peter’s hair and Peter’s moves to his hip and it somehow feels both like it lasts forever, and not nearly long enough.

“Juno,” Peter says once they break away, his voice quiet, but serious. “I…” his hand is light and hesitant on Juno’s hip. “This can be it,” he finally finishes.

“…What?”

“If you want. I… I don’t know what you want, Juno. I know what I want, but I’m also not the one who left. I don’t know what you want from me. From this. If you just want my help, you have it. If you want something more, we… we can talk about it. And if you want, we can pretend this didn’t happen, and we can both try to move on with our lives. But before we do anything else, I need to know where we stand. What do you want, Juno?”

Maybe it’s how tired he is. Maybe it’s the disbelief at being offered a second chance. Maybe he’s not actually as warm as he feels and he’s delirious from the cold. Maybe he’s just overwhelmed by everything going on. But the next words out of Juno’s mouth aren’t the ones he thinks he should say. They’re not an agreement to forget this whole thing, and try to proceed with a strictly professional relationship. They’re not an explanation that Peter’s better off without Juno “Walking Disaster” Steel in his life. Instead, it’s two sentences, short and sincere.

“You, Peter. I want you.”

For as much as Juno worries he’ll regret saying it, both for his sake and Peter’s, he has to admit that the kiss that follows is worth it, as is the one after it, and the one after that, and all the ones that follow until they both fall asleep, wrapped in each other’s arms, keeping each other warm amidst the unforgiving cold.

#my writing #tpp fanfic #tpp #the penumbra podcast #jupeter #juno steel #peter nureyev #i love this trope so much #i don't care if it's super cheesy #it's great #anonymous

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