#might go write some fic

[artqueen02]

I have spent the last two days that I have meant to be spending on a relaxing holiday with my family on a relaxing holiday laying in bed and reading fanfic.

I have since come to the conclusion that I am too gay to function

[cheesecakethots]

i LIVE for the angst of a yandere initially being fucking awful to their darling after taking them, and overtime changing and becoming more loving, as well has having newfound and immense regret for what they’ve done. it is literally my fave yan scenario.

tw // pretty heavy angst, mentions of noncon

i specifically imagine it for shigaraki, going from being this disgusting manbaby who treats his darling like they’re nothing but a toy for him to use, only to later realise how much he loves them and mature in how he treats them, making his regret for the past even stronger.

him trying to coax his darling into coming out on a date with him - they can go anywhere, he doesn’t mind, darling has free reign to choose what they do. he tries to be so soft and quiet in his tone, as though not to startle them.

it’s only when tears start forming in their eyes and they mumble, “have i been bad?” that he realises how badly his past self fucked up.

the only other time he really took them out was when he’d decided they needed a punishment, and had made them stand and watch as he disintegrated the first group of people they saw out. he had then fucked them against the alleyway wall, bodies still around them both, just to really get the point across.

he wishes he could take back everything, but he can’t. as of now, he needs to take baby steps in order to bring you out of the very same hole he once caved into your mind.

(i love regretful yans urm send me some thots about them pretty please)

[deviouz]

. . . WILDFLOWER !

a/n: just a little drabble about satoru and a chubby coded!reader <3

“Satoru, what are you doing?”

“‘m just admiring you.”

From your sprawled out position on the couch, you lifted your head up and glanced away from your phone to look at Satoru. He had nestled his way between your legs, toned arms going to wrap around your middle while his head laid on the plush of your stomach. From what you had gathered, he looked content. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips, and his eyes closed, allowing the white of his lashes to dance across his cheeks.

A sudden bout of anxiety flooded throughout your mind, rendering your muscles tense and nails digging into your palms.

You weren’t blind. While Satoru was the ever attentive boyfriend, there were only so many times you could resist the dread that wracked your skeptical mind. You were aware of what other people said, sometimes when out of audible range and sometimes not. The beauty standards were unfair and scarcely regarded your body type as something to be viewed as beautiful.

“You’re thinking again,” came a huffed out voice, dragging you away from the depths of your mind, “you’re tense. What’s wrong?”

Forcing your muscles to relax, your head dropped back down, cushioned by the pillowy fabric beneath.

“Nothing.”

Satoru groaned, long and definitely played up for a dramatic flair, ever so in character. “You know I can tell when you lie, right? It’s my super power. I’m like Daredevil.”

Scoffing, you rolled your eyes. “When were you gonna tell me you have superhuman hearing?”

Satoru caged you between his arms, leaning over you with a smirk. “What do you think the glasses are for, sweetheart?”

His head dipped down, nose briefly brushing against your own before his lips captured yours into a gentle kiss. It conveyed every emotion he felt about you — happiness, safety, and an overwhelming amount of love.

The kiss could have lasted hours, for all you knew. By the time the two of you had separated, Satoru’s lips were a little pinker and swollen, pretty eyes garnering nothing but a profound adoration and fondness.

“I think you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met in my life.”

Although the words were whispered, they rang about in your head, reverberating into your very core. The stunned look must have given you away, as Satoru was quick to cover your face with kisses and continue whispering compliment after compliment until your eyes glazed over with tears and lower lip began to tremble.

“I love you more than you’ll ever know. Don’t forget that, okay?”

[fearandhatred]

the very first thing i did in 2024 was go insane aka i slept at 7am and among other things i drew these! they're unrefined and only two panels of a much larger thing i'm doing but since that'll not be done any time soon i thought i might as well post these first

panel 8 of panel 2

[frownyalfred]

Things you might not realize are affecting your ao3 readership:

Putting unrelated fics into one compilation instead of series or collections

Not tagging your fics/“haha I’m so bad at tagging!”

Tagging all of the ships in a fandom instead of the relevant ones to the story

“This is my first fic ever”/ “I’m really not a good writer” / “sorry if this is crap”

Summaries that say “sorry don’t think I will update much” or “might be abandoned idk”

Tagging “r@pe” or “unaliving” etc instead of the actual tag so people can filter/exclude

NOT tagging major, relevant tags or kinks without using the “creator chose not to use archive warnings” option

Telling people how bad your writing is and how you hate it so much and how they shouldn’t even be reading your fic (self deprecation)

Weird punctuation: not starting new quotes or descriptions on a new line, and/or putting extremely long blocks of text on the page without a break

[lovesickeros]

☆ even the gods bleed [ pt 4 ]

{☆} characters arlecchino, furina, lyney {☆} notes cult au, imposter au, multi-chapter, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings blood {☆} word count 3.7k {☆} previous [ 1 ] [ 2 ] [ 3 ]

Fontaine was bathed in darkness, not even the moon daring to illuminate where the common man fears to walk. The streets were bleak and empty save for the constant, rhythmic ticking and clanking of machines marching on endlessly, dauntlessly wading where even the bravest dared not to venture. Not even the sharp click of the Gardes boots followed the occasional hisses of steam as they walked the barren streets.

It was haunting, and it'd been like that for days now. It showed little signs of stalling in the slightest, too. Every inch of Fontaine was practically crawling with Gardemeks– like a swarm of rats skittering about.

Arlecchino had secluded herself in the Hotel Bouffes d'ete for days at this point, waiting– biding her time. Her nails clicked against the wood as she tapped at the table in a stilted rhythm, the subtle click of the clock mixing into the clanking outside, weaving in and out of earshot as the patrols slipped by. She reached forward after a moment of thought, reaching for the white king.

She leaned back against the chaise, tilting her head just enough to catch a glimpse of a patrol of Gardemeks as they vanished behind the rows and rows of buildings. It wasn't enough to keep her attention for long, however, her features twisting in disinterest as she glanced back to the chessboard– and the letter neatly resting beside it. The seal was unmistakable and a sobering sight, demanding her attention– the soft hues of blue etched into the shape of a dragon stared back at her in a way that almost unsettled her.

She had already parsed through it's contents hundreds of times, but she was met with only vague, flowing script that only served to irritate her more then anything– it filled the page top to bottom yet managed to say nothing at all. Her hand reached out again, but instead of reaching for the letter she plucked the black rook from the board, setting it down with a soft click.

Arlecchino had all the time in the world to sit back and observe her prey, but all that time would be useless if she lacked the information to act.

And he was quite tight fisted about it, evidentially. None of her inquiries or attempts to decipher any potential codes in the letter left her empty handed. She could not act without even knowing the reason for his summons– it was almost worded like a personal affair rather then one would expect for a foreign diplomat. In truth, she'd expected a scalding report on her operatives, but it lacked any mention of anything of the sort.

She was no stranger to people masking hostility behind pretty words and compliments, not that it was ever unwarranted per se– the Fatui did not create connections through honesty and genuine kindness. They have strong armed more then their fair share of people into cooperation to the point distrust is all the Fatui are met with outside of Snezhnaya. Every word was meant to conceal the deceit, every action meant to conceal the price later paid.

So she had been..skeptical of the letter, to put it lightly. She doubted the Iudex of all people would offer a hand to the Fatui without a price attached– a trap, perhaps, meant to lure in the most powerful piece left on the board. Her eyes narrowed, reaching for a white rook and moving it to the right.

Or he was hiding something. Something that he simply couldn't risk getting out to anyone, not even the Divine themself. A tempting prize, whatever it was.

..A dangerous prize, too.

She'd considered burning the letter and forgetting it all together– the risk was great, and she couldn't risk getting caught up by whoever else the Iudex may have on his side of the board. But she could hardly pass up the challenge and the prize that he fought so hard to keep from prying eyes and ears. Even her agents came back empty handed each time. She lazily picked up a black rook, sliding the white pawn aside.

"Lyney," Arlecchino drawled, crossing one leg over the other and turning her gaze to the door as it slowly creaked open. The pale visage of Lyney stepped through, though his siblings were noticeably absent. The weariness that weighed down on his shoulders was apparent in the slightest furrow of his brows and the subtle creak of leather as he clenched his fists behind his back. "Father." He choked out, the title dragged out by the sharp inhale and shaky exhale.

He looked out of breath, she noted.

The silence that lingered after the small exchange was punctuated only by the click of another chess piece being moved. She sets aside the black rook, letting it sit among the dozen other pieces that had been wiped off the board. She can see the conviction glinting beneath the fog of exhaustion, but if he would utilize it was another matter all together.

He had seemed to make his choice quickly, at the very least.

"Our contacts and operatives within the Fortress of Meropide have gone silent– all we have is their final confirmed missive.." His voice is confident, but it is rigid as the words spill from his lips. He takes a sharp step forward, unfolding his arms from behind his back and opening his hands– the small, water stained and messily folded note catches her eye, plucking it from his palms with a half hearted interest. "They believe the Duke left the Fortress of Meropide..and that he may be coming to the Court of Fontaine."

Her eyes narrow dangerously, nearly crumpling the thin paper in her hands– yet just as quickly, she collects herself.

But she cannot get rid of the bitter taste on her tongue, lingering as she sets down the note and slides it to the side, her lips pursed into a thin line.

So the Iudex had shown one of his pieces..she tightly grasps a black rook, tipping over the white rook, letting it roll against the board.

If the Duke was involved, things were much more complicated then she expected– he would be a problem, she was certain. She couldn't blame the lamb for fearing the wolf, either. Whether her agents had been killed or captured by the man mattered little. He had his ways, and he was a force that could instill fear in even them.

Which meant the possibility that her operation was already compromised was far too real.

What had the Iudex so concerned he had gone through the trouble of bringing in the Duke and herself? The Fatui was one thing, but to specifically request one of it's Harbingers..

The Prophecy? The thought had her clenching her fist, but..no. If it were to rear it's head now, the Iudex could simply not afford to waste time on his contacts deciphering his nonsensical script– If the prophecy were to be the issue, there time would be limited to mere minutes in the worst of cases. Which meant it was worth biding his time in order to ensure absolute secrecy.

So if not the prophecy, then what?

Her next moves were..limited. She was already walking on eggshells considering her position and the reputations of the Fatui– especially with a Harbinger in the midst. If they caught wind of her operations, they'd weed out her operatives and be on guards for any snakes that lingered in their garden.

She reached for the chessboard again, picking up one of the white rooks from the board with a scowl. The sharp click as she sets down the white rook and sets aside the black pawn draws a shaky inhale from Lyney as she moves another black pawn, the dull click of the pieces drowning out the distant clinking of machines.

..A draw, perhaps.

The pieces were all falling into place– the players of this game were slowly being revealed. Whether she could secure her victory..she was unsure.

She wasn't even sure who her opponent was. Only that the Iudex himself was but another piece in their game.

Arlecchino reached for the board again, yet this time she hesitated. Perhaps she could still swipe the win from beneath them, if she played her cards right.

She would simply have to capture the king– or, if need be, let it end on a draw. Either way, she would not concede. She could not afford to concede. Down to the last piece, she would drag out this match until she was in a position to force their hand into the outcome she desired.

She stood slowly, picking up the king piece and observing it for only the briefest of moments before she set it down on the table, taking measured steps around the table and across the room. She was hunting a much more dangerous quarry today– it would be no simple runaway traitor this time.

"Do you remember the directive?" She inquired coldly, her hand lingering on the door for that long, tense moment. "..Yes, Father." Lyney faltered, taking a hesitant step back and bowing at the waist. "Then do not stray."

All that was left was the silence and click of the door shutting behind her as she disappeared down the hall, her boots clicking harshly against the floorboards. The rest of the agents knew better then to linger in her path as she stepped down into the lobby, adjusting the cuffs of her sleeves. She barely even acknowledged the Fatui agent standing at the ready by the heavyset doors, their gloves hands held out with her cloak held loosely in their palms. She quickly snagged it from them, tugging it over her board shoulders and clasping it around her throat.

With a quick tug, she brought the hood up over her head to conceal her sharp features, lifting her hand and placing a neatly folded note within their waiting hands. She had only one chance to make the right moves and secure her victory– no matter the cost.

Each piece had it's purpose.

Oft, that purpose was a bloody and horrible end– but for the grand goal of the Fatui built on the backs of the dead, it was an honor.

She didn't bother speaking a word as she dismissed them with a wave of her hand, pushing open the heavyset doors and stepping out into the barren, damp streets. The rhythmic clink and whir of Gardemeks was still distant– she needed to move. Her boots clicked and splashed in the rain soaked stone of the streets as she slithered between the buildings, ducking through the openings in the patrols.

It was almost too easy.

She tilted her head back, taking in the towering Palais Mermonia with a scowl, her hands clenched into fists. The final moves were being played– the king was within her reach, yet she felt no more confident then when she began.

The air carried a sense of unease, thick and heavy, filling her lungs until she felt her breath still in her chest– listening to the empty, bleak night that seemed so..quiet.

She'd done her fair share of research, had more then her fair share of her agents try to peer into the Iudex's office or the Archon's supposedly hidden chambers, but every attempt was a failure. She had to give them credit, they were quite elusive when they wished to be. Though now she only thought about it bitterly– this was all a risky gamble, in the end, and only time would tell if it paid off.

With minimal effort, she'd managed to pull herself to the flat, tiled roof, eyeing the massive tower peaking out of the center cautiously. At least here the wandering patrols down below weren't likely to notice her..she could hear them passing by the spot she'd been in only a few minutes ago, just beneath her. She pulled the hood further over her face, peering through the sheer darkness of the night for any oddities, but it was almost impossible to see in the dark.

Her boots clicked softly against the tiles as she approached the tower jutting out from the Palais, her hand gliding along the smooth stone, pressing against odd indents or crevices. If it was for the Archon's chambers, she doubted they made it very difficult– she'd only met the woman once, but she doubted the Iudex make it all that complex just from a brief glance. And it surprised her little when one of the stones sunk into the wall, gears whirring as the walls split open to reveal a stairwell straight into an inky black hall. Only the barest hint of light peaked under the door at the bottom, but it's occupants must have heard her, considering it went out not a moment later.

She cautiously stepped down into the small crevice, her breath visible in the bitter cold air– her shoulders tensed at the subtle sound of muffled footsteps behind the door, her vision flaring with a molten heat between her shoulder blades as she reached for the worn handle of the door. The heat of her vision was enough to just barely heat the metal, her vision flaring like a quickly building inferno.

Arlecchino was prepared for a fight, if it came down to it.

The door creaked as she pressed against it, shoving it open with a grunt of effort and surveying the room with narrowed eyes and a biting remark on the tip of her tongue– the lavish opulence was expected, she supposed, but the lack of the towering figure of the Iudex was not.

Yet before she could get a word in or even take in her surroundings properly, the light flickered back on and she had to squeeze her eyes shut with a hiss at the sudden brightness. She could hear the door being shoved closed behind her, the hurried footsteps retreating just as quickly as her eyes adjusted to the light.

..This was a joke, wasn't it? It had to be.

She'd expected the Iudex, perhaps even the Duke if she'd been unlucky, not the Hydro Archon. She had half the mind to test her worth as an Archon then and there, her temper flaring like an uncontrollable blaze, barely kept at bay. It took all her self control to force herself to smile politely at the woman rather then snarl.

"Miss Furina," She sneered beneath her hood, x shaped pupils locked onto the startled, trembling Archon with thinly veiled contempt. "What a..pleasant surprise. You'll have to forgive my manners, I assumed I was meeting with the Iudex." She observed her body language carefully– the way her eyes darted about like a frightened rabbit seeking escape, the slightest tremble of her lips..

Arlecchino opened her mouth to offer another scathing remark, but her jaw audibly clicked shut as her entire body seemed to lock up. Even her vision went cold against her back, a chilling feeling creeping up her spine as someone, or something, crept up behind her. Their footsteps were almost silent, the slight rustling of their clothes the only thing she could hear over her heart pounding against her ribcage.

Arlecchino had always prided herself on being on the other end of that sensation– she was the monster, and her target was the prey frozen like a deer between the hunters crosshair.

It was a chilling feeling to have the dynamic shifted on it's head.

She couldn't even swallow, her jaw clenched so hard she could hear it creak as she tried to reason with her quickly splintering mind– a futile effort, her joints locking up almost painfully. Black spots were quickly swallowing her vision from the lack of air in her lungs, the sound of shuffling behind her barely audible over the ringing in her ears.

For a moment – a moment too long to have only lasted the seconds that it did, yet so quick it gave her whiplash – she thought she would hit the floor dead before she could even glimpse her assailant.

And then it was gone. She came crashing back into reality with a startled inhale, her lungs burning and her knees nearly buckling under her. The instinct to lash out and kill whoever had done it was intense, yet she couldn't bring herself to move even a finger– it would be so easy to twist around and ignite them with searing flames, but her feet were rooted in place.

She almost didn't notice the surprisingly gentle hands unclasping her cloak, tugging it off her shoulders, if not for the sheer intensity of the presence still lingering behind her. Her mind was still fractured, struggling to right itself after the ordeal, and it had her seething.

"..Are you certain you held back enough?" Furina croaked, the normally soft lilt raspy and almost hoarse. "Not– not that I doubt your capability, most Divine!"

Arlecchino felt her nails dig harshly into her palms, heat swelling beneath her skin– Divine? Had she lost her mind? The Divine was..

The Divine was upon their throne where they belonged. She'd seen them!

"Hm. Well, maybe? Sorry, I didn't think it'd affect you too." Their voice was sickeningly soft as they stepped around her like she wasn't even there, focusing their attention on the Archon who seemed more then delighted about it. "What gave you that impression, most Divine? Aha, I..was completely unaffected, as you can see! Perfectly fine."

Furina let out a small squeak when they pinched her cheek, but the almost affectionate smile that tugged at their lips revealed the lack of malice behind the action.

"You're a bad liar, Furina. You might want to sit down..please?" They didn't take her protests for an answer, gently pushing her to sit on the bed before abruptly turning to face Arlecchino once more, a forced smile on their lips. "Oh, good, you're..uh, not dead. That's good. I thought I fried your brain. Sorry?"

..Had she hit her head on the way here? The Divine should still be on their throne, yet she couldn't shake the weight of their stare– it felt tangible. She felt like she was standing face to face with the stars– galaxies and constellations bearing down upon her.

She grit her teeth and clenched her hands until she felt the sting of her nails against her palms, grounding herself in the pain through the sheer overwhelming nature of their existence.

"You.." She croaks, reaching out with a shaky hand and grabbing them by the collar of their shirt, lifting them up until their feet left the floor– she pays no mind to the startled protests of the Archon. Arlecchino would crush her like a bug before she even got the chance to intervene and they both knew it. "You shouldn't exist– you aren't them, and yet you..you're the imposter, aren't you?" Her grip tightens yet they face her without an ounce of fear, meeting her unyielding glare with a pondering look.

Arlecchino wanted to make them bleed just to see if she could, the urge to sink her teeth into skin welling up in her chest to the point she visibly snarled, her mask of politeness long . "You're the imposter." Her expression falls for a moment before she schools it into one of apathy, setting them back down and holding them there for a moment, finally releasing them after a tense moment. "Or you were supposed to be."

Hers brows furrow– she wants to demand answers, to throttle them for damning them to being nothing more then dolls for the supposed Divine to break at their whim, but none of the words come to her.

"..Why now? The current Divine has been in power for years, yet you descend now?" Her shoulders tensed, lips pursed into a thin line– it's impossible to ignore the truth that lay before her. The Divine is a fraud and this..imposter is the true Divine. How many years had they been in power, now? How many years were they waiting? Why did they wait? Was the suffering of Teyvat not enough? Was the blood that painted the steps of their stolen throne not enough?

She'd personally been on the wrong end of the Divine's wrath– she wonders..had they watched? Had they seen the cruel hand of their imposter and turned their back on Teyvat?

"I.." They hesitated. It made her seethe, her hands clenching into fists at her sides– her vision flickered, flames swelling within it's casing just to be smothered by the presence of the Divine. But once that spark had been lit, she refused to let it go out. "I didn't know."

The answer does not satisfy her. There is an itch beneath her skin that she cannot scratch, a fire that burns in her chest so hot it scorches even herself.

"And what about now? Are you content to cower like prey in the safety of the Palais Mermonia?" She snapped, taking a step forward, her brows furrowed and her glare intense– she can see the slightest bit of worry in their eyes. She revels in it. "Will you let them use your acolytes like pawns? How many more need to be broken on the steps to your throne before you act?"

Again, her vision flares and dims– it refuses to be used against the Divine that created it.

"Have you no answer?"

The room is silent. They do not speak and neither does she.

Even the world itself seems to quiet in the face of her accusations, fury boiling to the surface so hot it incinerated all it touched.

"I will kill them myself."

Their words are quiet, but they are not soft– there is a vindictive, searing anger that explodes out like dying stars within their eyes. The sight of constellations replaced by a void that would not be . The smell of ichor grows stronger– to the point she feels almost lightheaded.

"..I am aware that I have failed in preventing this, but I had no choice in the matter. Still," They muse, their voice like the tolling of bells. A solemn melody that stills the swelling fury burning in her chest, if only for a moment. "I will rectify it– I will tear down their throne of lies and let not even the earth tarnish itself by burying their corpse among it's soil."

They pause for a moment, holding out their hand– scarred and bandaged by the weapons of the devout, yet still they take upon the burden of dirtying their hands to save those who did not save them.

"Do you trust me, Arlecchino?"

Did she?

"Will you help me?"

She exhales heavily, meeting the starry iris' of the Divine with a scowl still tugging at her lips. Arlecchino trusted no one but herself.

"..Yes."

[yuri-is-online]

Manipulating the Buyers (Rollo Flamm x Yuu)

Intro

notes: they/them used for Yuu, pre-established relationship, Rollo is downbad horrendous and a freak. Not related to my previous Rollo fic, GloMas suggested but not explicitly mentioned; introducing the boyfriend to the family (Crewel) and watching him get hazed by the older brothers (Leona and Vil), and persists in enjoying domestic fluff despite the horrors (magic). More fic can be found on my masterlist here.

"ENOUGH." Crewel shouts loud enough to silence your upperclassmen and send you halfway out of your skin. "Yuu and Grim are being kind enough to let you use there space even after the Headmage was rude enough to refuse to ask them for it. I'm sure all of you are more than competent enough of doing your tasks on your own."

"Won't the prefect be a bit bored if they have to just stand around and just watch?" Asks Trey, completely aware of your ability to entertain yourself. You should be annoyed, but your attention is firmly captured by the buzz of your phone in your uniform pocket.

"Grim and I can take tickets." You smile as the familiar contact asks if you are out of classes yet, and available to talk.

[you] something came up sorry ….. ( 〃．．)ﾉ [you] nothing bad! i'll text you when it's over ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎

"Oh that would be so cute!" Cater cheers immediately turning towards an equally as excited Idia. "We should totally dress him up, oh do you want to be samsies Yuu? Or should we make your outfit unique?"

[my flamme] Good to hear that there's nothing wrong. Please take your time, I suspect your "something" might be related to something I want to talk to you about. [my flamme] Also nothing bad.

"Hmmm I don't mind leaving that up to you guys!" You tuck your phone against your chest and try to to appear too eager to get away. Vil's raised eyebrow suggests he doesn't completely believe you. "I mean, you guys have a theme you're going with right? If you really want me to pick stuff out I'll need guidelines."

"There won't be any need for that," you're really glad Epel isn't here right now to get any schadenfreude from Vil's strict smile being aimed at someone who isn't him "why we can just decide on your outfit right now can't we? Your classes are over for the day so you have no where to go. Isn't that right?"

~~~~

"And then he made me try on every single suit Crewel owns." Your voice is muffled by your pillows in a position Rollo thinks looks comfortable, but prevents him from fully seeing your face. Thankfully you have mercy on him and turn towards him, adjusting your phone with a smile that makes his heart flutter slowly away from his previous aggravations towards something practically domestic. "And didn't pick out a single one! Can you believe it, I haven't told anyone anything but I swear he knows. Vil's worse than Rook sometimes I swear."

"Did you like any of them?" He's wondered about what you would look like in things other than the uniform Crowley provided you, (ashamedly Noble Bell's uniform had been at the forefront of his mind) the worn gym clothes you used as pajamas didn't give him much insight into your personal sense of style. You close your eyes in thought and Rollo moves you closer to his chest, he wishes he was as relaxed with this as you. He wished he had the strength to lay with his phone next to him in his bed and pretend you were there with him, but even sitting next to the fireplace in the Student Council Room is almost too much for him.

"They were a bit stuffy. And stupid formal." You sound so tired, Rollo almost feels bad for keeping you awake.

"I bet they looked nice."

"Yeah Vil didn't let me take any pictures sorry." Rollo almost chokes at the implication of his asking and you laugh as he coughs and decides to change the subject.

"Oh that's fine." He had been so caught up in asking about your day he had almost forgotten what it was he wanted to speak with you about. That should annoy him, this maddening peace you inspire in him is dangerous, he is at risk of being well and truly content with his place in the world. "I'll get a chance to see anyway." He is rewarded for his patience with a smile so radiant he loses his ability to breath.

"You're coming to the Culture Fair?" You sound so excited.

"Your Headmage specifically invited our student council." Rollo had technically known about this for months, he had suspected that would prove longer than you had known about it but for you to have just learned today angered him intensely. Worry knits its way across your face and that anger softens, he thinks he knows you well enough to make some assumptions. "You don't need to worry about leaving your duties to spend time with me, I fully intended to plan things around your schedule." He whispers softly and you relax slightly. "I'm more than capable of entertaining myself when you aren't around."

"That's not really what I'm worried about..." It was certainly part of it though. The thought of having your boyfriend come all the way from the Shaftlands to Sage's Island and not getting to see him once drove you mad and you didn't have nearly the same amount of faith in Crowley's scheduling that Rollo seems to. "I don't want to have to break up any fights."

"...allow me to rephrase my statement, I am more than capable of behaving myself." Rollo says firmly, and you sigh to yourself. It's not him you are worried about, at least not primarily. No matter how reasonable he thinks he is, Rollo is just as capable of being problematic as your classmates. "And as nice as I'm sure Night Raven College is-" It's a school filled with mages so he doubts it is all that nice, but it's the only home you have known here and Rollo has no desire to be impolite. "I would like to spend some time with you alone and I could see that being... difficult on campus." He isn't wrong.

"Do you know where you're staying? I haven't spent a ton of time off campus so I won't be the best tour guide." You move towards your desk to jot down what Rollo has to say and feel yourself warm when you see his affectionate smile.

"That's fine. I've been thinking about how nice it would be to explore a new place with you. And now I get to do it much sooner that I expected." How this man doesn't think he's romantic is beyond you.

~~~~

Craneport is nothing like the City of Flowers but Rollo thinks it has a certain charm to it. For a city so close to a school for mages there are a lot of normal people here, different in attitude than his home but still charming; Rollo likes it here. Exploring this place with you will be worth it, all he has to do is make through today.

"Ah! Mr. Flamm! So good of you to have accepted my most generous invitation-" The headmage badgers on as Rollo takes a deep breath of his handkerchief, the man is somehow more insufferable in person than over the phone or through your stories, a truly impressive feat if nothing else. Rollo barely manages to extract himself from the Headmage's blubbering to explore the cultural fair. It isn't... unimpressive he supposes. There is a disgusting amount of magic on display, but he manages to find small shows of genuine craftsmanship too. He finds himself pleasantly surprised at the student Cafe, the school's botanical gardens provide a feel unlike the cafe's back at home and provide a pleasant degree of privacy from the rest of the school. The snacks on offer are different too, there are no croissants or cheeses, instead the students are offering different types of cake and a few buns. You did say you were only taking tickets, surely your professors wouldn't mind if you took a brief break to eat something? Or maybe they would allow him to bring something to you, he forgets if you mentioned anything about whether or not you had explained who he was to anyone other than Trein. Not that he's nervous about speaking to any of your other professors, he's certain he can make a good argument to any mage for why-

"Roi du Mouchior!" It's all Rollo can do to not snatch up his handkerchief and give Hunt the satisfaction of seeing him live up to that abominable nickname, opting instead to press his nails into his palm. "How splendid! I had wondered if we would see you here, our prefect's improved mood makes much more sense now, no?" The irritating git turns towards a tall, well presented man who is making a great deal of use of the extra height his heels give to look down in judgement on Rollo with in a keen appraisal that would cause lesser men to keel.

"Oh?" The voice, not the appearance is what triggers Rollo's memory, he can't say he doesn't know who Vil Schoenheit is, he's not wholly unaware of current cultural trends, and he remembers your anecdotes that suggest friendship, he just wasn't expecting to actually meet the man. He hadn't really wanted to meet with anyone other than you. "I was aware Yuu was looking forward to something... but I was under the impression it was exciting and not antique."

"... I don't believe we have been introduced." Rollo does take a breath of his kerchief's potpourri at that comment, Hunt is already abominably difficult to read, but he doesn't suppose he had told Schoenheit the truth, not when Draconia had been the one to suggest the cover up. There were more clever ways to call someone an attempted murderer anyway and he supposes that comment was likely aimed at his uniform. "I am Rollo Flamme, the Noble Bell College Student Council President. I am also Yuu's partner." Schoenheit raises an eyebrow.

"I see." He says. "Vil Schoenheit, Dorm Leader of Pomefiore among other things." And that is all as Vil excuses himself and Rook back towards where Rollo doesn't know but supposes he will soon enough. Briefly, shamefully, his heart stutters as he thinks over the interaction. He hasn't been... forthcoming about your relationship with his peers, it simply is none of their business, but he never said anything to discourage you from doing so. But he also hadn't asked if you had... or wanted to do so, Rollo certainly hopes he hasn't crossed a line even if he finds himself strangely exhilarated to stand and just be honest about how he feels. His eyes dart back to the display before him as softer thoughts soothe the flames of disgust.

Shortcake is always a safe bet he thinks. These ones are exceptionally portable and come in convenient pairs.

~~~~

"Thanks for coming, please enjoy the show!" You give your best scary monster claws alongside Grim and smile wide as the guests giggle at your cuteness and shuffle along to their doom, holding the pose till they leave and letting it collapse in a sigh of relief.

"Man this is annoyin'." Huffs Grim. "Why do ya think they keep squealing whenever I hit em with my monster moves?! s' not like I'm cute, I'm really scary!"

"It's a real mystery." You say with the cadence of someone really pushing for that Oscar nomination. Only to be interrupted someone with the tact of an oncoming freight train.

"It's cause it's not good." Leona slams himself into your chair before you can sit back down, blatantly ignoring both your and Grim protests in favor of continuing to insult your companion. "No one in their right name would be afraid of a puff ball."

"I ain't a puffball!" Puffs Grim. "And you're supposed to be in the Grave Yard! Whatdya think Vil is gonna say if he finds out you're here!" Leona shrugs.

"Probably something about how ugly Yuu's boyfriend is." Leona's signature smug smile comes out as soon as he sees the tell tale signs of your embarrassment fluttering through your body language. "Oh? Here I thought he was joking, don't tell me some bullshit about how you think he's attractive everyone says that."

"But I do?" You protest on instinct noticing much too late the sound of approaching footsteps behind you and simply choose bringing consequences you simply choose not to turn around and face. "I'm not going to say I don't I like him!"

"I'm more concerned you didn't say anything at all." A very not mad just disappointed and this is so much worse looking Crewel stands, fiddling with his riding crop in a way that makes you break just a bit of a sweat. "Was there a specific reason you didn't think to mention you had a boyfriend?" You didn't think Crewel's voice could crack and yet here it is in full view of you (who is terrified) and Leona (having the time of his life.)

"Yuu didn't think it was none of your business." Huffs Grim, sealing your fate somewhere six feet under. "I mean whatdya gonna do? Nothin good!"

"What I mean is-" you try.

"Nah I think it's pretty clear what ya mean." Cackles Leona. "I'm impressed, didn't think ya had it in you to hide something this big." Of all the times for the big cat to decide to have a bit of energy, why's he wasting it on teasing you? "Would have assumed you'd wanna blabber your little feelings all over the place."

"I would have hoped," it might just be you but Crewel sounds almost... sad, it's making you feel sort of bad "that you felt comfortable enough to talk about your feelings. With someone anyway."

"I mentioned it to Ace and Deuce." You say quietly and a little of his typical confidence returns to Crewel.

"Good." He says without a hint of irony. "So long as someone is there for you in case something goes wrong." You wonder if it would be wise to mention that to your friends or if it would make them too insufferable.

"You hear that?" Leona smiles. "You're on notice herbivore." A cough makes you realize he wasn't talking to you

Rollo says nothing, a little box you recognize as being from the Science Club's pop up cafe. What you do not recognize is your boyfriend, he isn't wearing his Noble Bell Uniform, though you think you recognize a similar style to the button up underneath his sweater, his giant uniform hat is missing too. He ignores Leona and simply gives you a reassuring smile before turning to Crewel with the more familiar serious look on his face.

"I'm sorry for causing worry, Yuu speaks very highly of you and I would never encourage them to keep a secret from you." His smooth manner of speaking bores Leona, but doesn't fully impress Crewel.

"I am glad to hear that." He says in complete monotone.

"You here to visit your other herbivore?" Leona asks, still here and not in his place for some reason. "We're using Ramshackle Dorm so sorry you aren't gonna get to be alone." Your search for a suitably blunt object to smack him with is interrupted by Rollo asking a very simple question.

"That's your dorm?" Everything stops. You swear you can hear the screams and faint music from the inside as Leona, Crewel, and even Grim seem to have forgotten how to breathe. Rollo's eyes narrow on the shape of the house, scanning the windows and dipping into the carved stone accents with a severity you think could scorch, yet not once does he move to settle himself or take a deep breath. "It has a certain charm to it I suppose... those tombstones are a very impressive bit of prop work."

"Um do you mind if I take my break now?" You don't wait for an answer and seize Rollo's hand and Grim's paw and book it for the hills behind Ramshackle.

~~~~

"Just so we're clear I still intend to take you on a proper date while I'm here." Rollo sits stiff, not wanting to put the brunt of his back against the trees around you but still clearly enjoying the quiet. "And I do want to see the inside of your dorm... preferably after hours." You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he boops your nose affectionately, surprisingly non pulsed at your silent suggestions. "I have no real interest in gauging the special effects skills of your magical classmates, I am interested in where they are trying to house you."

"I mean I think it's nice?" You certainly like the vibe of it, and the ghosts take good care of you where they can.

"It could be better I guess." Grim sounds happy as he says that, probably because Rollo remembered to bring him food as well (even if he had claimed it was just to shut him up.) "But it's ours y'know? I get to set all the rules and we get to pick the decor! None of the other guys get to do that."

"Would you decorate your house like your dorm?" Rollo reaches out for your hand and pulls you closer, finally leaning back against the tree content with how you lean onto his shoulder. "Hopefully without the tombstones in the yard... assuming they are as real as your reactions suggests."

"I don't know..." Both the answer to that question and the reasons for the grave in your current front yard. "W-why do you ask?"

"For now? I just want to know what sort of things you like because I enjoy hearing about them." And yet Rollo says no more, taking out his phone and moving the conversation to Craneport and the various shops he saw on his way to the school. For now it's an easy enough phrase to ignore, but then Rollo has always been one for implications. For the future, he wants to know what sort of place you would want to buy. He thinks it would be nice to leave the decision to you.

Taglist: @nothingfuninthislife

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

thinking of a new steddie fic/au hmmm.

It’s just the classic, Steve buys weed from Eddie in season 1 era, he and Tommy meet him at the bench in the woods behind school. Steve and Eddie have some playful banter and clearly get along, but it’s dismissed as just a drug deal and they go on about their lives.

Next time they meet is when a frantic Steve comes and finds Eddie after he’s just fought off the demogorgon for the first time. He’s rattled, and skittish, wearing a nasty black bruise on his eye, and just overall not acting like himself. He snaps at Eddie multiple times to just ‘hurry up’ and ‘get him his stuff’, and sure he’s being an asshole, but more than anything Eddie is just concerned. He has never seen The King Steve Harrington lose his cool like this. So Eddie cautiously gives him the weed, making sure not to give too much, and lets him go about his day, but not before asking if he’s alright. Steve clearly wasn’t expecting this and brushes it off defensively, but that doesn’t mean he’s not thinking about it for the rest of his week. How the hell did Eddie Munson notice something was wrong, when his own parents didn’t? Nor his “friends”?

They cross paths again a year later, the beginning of season two. Steve is still with Nancy and has freshly dumped his old douchebag crew of superficial friends. He is still sitting quite comfortably on the higher ranks of popularity, but there is no denying his status is not what it used to be. He comes to buy weed from Eddie in the first week back at school, and it’s a casual interaction. He’s still as charmingly stuck up as he ever was, but now without Tommy there to judge his every move, he seems a little more at ease when making casual conversation with Eddie. Eddie doesn’t mention the year before and Steve is so glad for it, secretly very embarrassed that he went to Eddie for some refuge after arguably his most traumatic experience to date. He gets his stuff, giving Eddie a smirk when he notices he’s dropped the price significantly for Steve when it’s just him alone. Eddie gives him a challenging smile back, almost daring him to call it out, but he doesn’t. They both just laugh and part ways.

The next run in is tina’s halloween party. They notice eachother when Steve first arrives, making eye contact and giving a polite nod. Maybe Eddie lifts his drink up to Steve in a silly salute. They don’t speak at all or make any effort to hang around eachother. That is, until Steve storms down the stairs in a rage after he’d gone up there with Nancy Wheeler. But then are those- tears? Eddie was standing on the front porch smoking a cigarette, trying to discreetly hide from one Billy Hargrove to avoid having to sell him anything, but staying visible enough that he won’t lose all chances of making any money tonight. Steve storms right past him and hits his shoulder. Eddie whips around and is about to call him a dick before he sees who it is.

Steve tries to quickly wipe his face, he won’t make eye contact with Eddie, and he’s clearly trying to get out as fast as he can. Eddie doesn’t let him, though, since he’s obviously not thinking very clearly and is most likely about to do something emotional and stupid. He asks if Steve’s alright, and his answers are all short and rushed, so he’s definitely not. They’re not really friends, but Eddie’s not an asshole.

— “Did you drive?” Eddie asks

“Yeah”

“Well, you’re drunk, Steve. You can’t get behind a wheel right now. And if I knowingly let you, then that makes me an accomplice. I’ll take you home.”

Steve tries to protest, attempting to push past him, but Eddie interjects. “Yeah, yeah, alright! Don’t thank me yet, Steve’o. This is not for you, see, I’m not trying to get a criminal record, here. I cant go to prison, Steve. Do you know what they’d do to a pretty guy like me in prison? Nope, let’s go hot stuff.” —

Eddie takes Steve home. They don’t talk much. By the time they reach Steve’s drive way and Eddie has put his van in park, Steve is making no attempt to exit the vehicle just yet. Eddie doesn’t know what to do, he didn’t really plan this far, so he’s just tapping away awkwardly at his steering wheel while Harrington stares down the dashboard so clearly lost in thought Eddie fears his head might explode. Steve tells Eddie what happened, says it’s ‘relationship troubles’, and he’s not quite sure what compelled him into being so honest with Eddie Munson, but he’s blaming the alcohol. Eddie wasn’t expecting that. They chat for a bit, Eddie makes Steve laugh and considers the whole night a success after that. Then they start cracking jokes about their shared hatred for Hargrove, and Steve looks and sounds a bit more ok to go inside. He thanks Eddie, quite sincerely actually, and it throws him a bit. He stutters a ‘yeah, for sure. It’s no problem.’ And Steve goes home.

After that, it’s a little different. Steve, doesn’t actually really have anyone, anymore. When they go back to school he’s now greeting Eddie here and there in the hallways, making conversation when they find themselves alone together, in the lunch line or at the bathroom sink. He doesn’t approach Eddie when there’s too many people around, though. As much as he’s grown, Steve Harrington still carry’s some prejudice in him about how certain things may make him look. But it doesn’t bother Eddie too much. It’s not like they are really friends, they’re just like, strange acquaintances. And Steve would never deny that they get along, that really Eddie’s ‘not so bad’. So that’s a win.

Steve finds Eddie again not long after the party to buy some more weed, a plan that sparked purely out of boredom. Eddie says yes, of course, but tells him if he wants it today he will need to wait till after school and meet Eddie at his place, since he was busy. So Steve takes a trip to the Munson trailer to make his deal. Eddie invites him inside and they sit together on the couch as he gets Steve’s bag ready. They end up making quite pleasant conversation, joking around and ultimately finding they are really enjoying each other’s company. They enjoy it so much so, that Steve ends up smoking there, with Eddie. So now they are kind of like, hanging out? And it’s fun, so they do it again. Still they’re not, friends friends, they just get along. Eddie just sells Steve weed sometimes and they keep it civil.

He doesn’t hear from Steve for a while, and the next time he sees him it’s from a distance, in passing. The man has the most roughed up face Eddie has ever seen, bruised and swollen in multiple areas, stitches and bandages all over. It’s really, concerning? completely metal, but alarming. This is the second time Eddie has seen the guy all beaten up like that. He knew that boys fight, but surely not that bad? As worried as he was, Eddie doesn’t approach him to ask questions, because they don’t know eachother like that. So he goes on about his day, and he doesn’t see Steve again after that for quite some time.

Then it’s summer, Eddie isn’t graduating again, and he’s not really sure what to do with himself over the break. The new mall has just opened up, and there’s a cool music store up on the second floor that he likes to visit sometimes with his band friends. And wouldn’t you know, working at the Scoops Ahoy located directly across from his favourite store, is Steve Harrington. The guy hasn’t come to Eddie for any weed since last year, and then there was that sighting where he looked like he’d just fallen face first into a flying fist or two, so it’s been a minute since Eddie’s seen him. And he’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a nice surprise. He only goes into scoops once. He’s curious, okay? Sue him. And, he knows the girl who works with him, Robin. So he plays it off like he had no idea he’d see Steve there. And to his surprise, Steve actually acknowledges him. He doesn’t act like Eddie is a total stranger just because they’re not in school anymore. The interaction is quick, they make very casual conversation, Eddie says hi to Robin, grabs his milkshake and goes home. That’s all. He doesn’t go back, and he doesn’t really plan to. Steve’s nice, and he knows Eddie’s around if he needs to buy from him again, and that’s really as far as their relationship goes. That’s all it ever was. It’s been fun getting to know Steve Harrington a little bit better, even if it was just for a short time. Eddie liked having the chance to see in past the quaffed hair and pressed polo shirts to learn that Steve was really just a person under it all. He never thought he’d say it, but Harrington wasn’t so bad. It was a nice little eye opening experience for Eddie.

Eddie was ready to write off his little blips of interaction with Steve Harrington as a thing of the past, no hard feelings, and move on with his life. That is, until he gets a knock at his front door in the middle of the night afew days after the big mall fire. And it’s Steve on the other side. And he looks awful, his face is the worst Eddie’s ever seen it. And he wasn’t really knocking, more like pounding. He says he needs Eddie’s help.

What the fuck?

[mammomlette]

People don’t talk about MC needing to wear a magical ring to not accidentally yk cause NATURAL DISASTERS with their powers??? Not only accidentally but without realising???

Diavolo or smthn is asking too much of MC or being a bit too annoying and their other hand slowly drifts towards the ring and they hold onto it while maintaining dead eye contact. Like continue to piss me off hoe I’ll blink and blow a hole in your castle idk

Obv they never do it (or do they?) but the threat is there and it’s a risk dia (or whoever but I’m using dia) can’t take

[tomaturtles]

IT'S KAWOSHIN DAY!!! As well as the last day of Kawoshin Week :') It's been such a blast, gonna miss it when it's over

Kawoshin Week Day 7: Cuddling/domestic fluff! + Sleepover and Spinoffs (again)! Based on the Campus Apocalypse sleepover chapter ☺️

[abyssalic]

long time no see, babes!! heres a wip of one of the creatures thats going to be part of my beloved au!!

[motherfracker]

Okay, so I saw a tweet earlier about the donor arc, the look on Buck's face when he first holds that child and how he has to steel himself to hand over that baby to Kameron.

And I'm on my bullshit today, because it's such a cruel writing choice for Buck as a character. Because this man is so fearful of people leaving him, he cannot handle rejection, and a baby can't do either of those things... so Buck has to do it for them. Be the one to leave this time. What a knife to the gut! And sure, if Buck really wanted to be a donor, he could be a donor. But to not only make him a donor to a former friend/roommate (and let's be honest, Connor had to have been a crush, he followed that boy from Peru to LA), someone he personally knows is raising a child that is biologically his, to then having the woman carrying this child who will be the mother of this child give birth at his apartment, on his couch, and he is the one to deliver the baby and the first one to hold them. And you expect me to believe that Buck just moved on from that? That he didn't feel every single second of that deep in his soul?

That man is still thinking about that baby.

He wants a family. And he's been subconsciously building one with Eddie, he's co-parenting Chris. But that is never explicitly stated or talked about. He doesn't have a relationship with the Buckley parents. He only has Maddie. Bobby has been mentioned as a father figure in a few instances, but they have not recognized that to each other. And you want me to believe that Buck would move on from holding his own baby in his arms?

No, I don't buy it.

Buck could never be a "donor, not dad" with that much personal connection. Kameron was living in his loft at the end of her pregnancy! The lines are so blurred, they don't even exist anymore! The only way he could have successfully had a donor arc was if it was anonymous.

So, give me the fic. The fic where Buck grieves that loss of family. Where he still grieves it after s7, because Chris is gone, and it feels kind of similar. There's barely any contact, if any at all, and someone else is raising your kid.

Because Buck thinks about that baby.

He always will.

[shesmore-shoebill]

new amangela fic!

"Two cheez-it packets and an apple is not dinner. You don't have any leftovers or anything in your house?"

Angela groans, leaning forward and balancing her forehead on the edge of her laptop screen. "I don't even have groceries right now, because I didn't have time to do a grocery run on Tuesday. I think the last time I looked in the fridge it was literally just condiments and a jar of martini olives." She pauses, and then, continuing to not look at Amanda, adds. "...And half a lemon."

"Half- why is it only half a lemon. What happened to- okay, you know what, not the important thing here. Babe, what the hell."

AKA: I said i was going to write a fic about the half lemon in Angela's fridge and i meant it.

It started from "i want this specific scene as a result of Angela kind of Going Thru It" and quickly turned into "how many acts of love and service can i feasibly cram into the before and after of this". Its VERY fluffy, consider it an exploration of "what can you do when your friend is overworking themselves to the point of being stretched very thin + a healthy dose of Amangela banter and love".

Its written in a way that I think is arguably platonic, but I mean, you all can decide that. enjoy!

also, a huge thank you to the other amangela fic/content writers on here- for directly or indirectly discussing, providing encouragement, motivation, etc, and also making their own stuff! Cool stuff makes more cool stuff.

[somdxr]

wanted to wait a little before i posted this but. oh well

[purpleleafsyt]

From my fic, Inclarity :>

[escapingarchives]

Consider:

Nureyev’s going undercover as a hypnotist for a show at a grand party of the wealthy (somewhere in the estate is a safe with some very important schematics he'd like to get his hands on).

He researches extensively, first pouring over books and then spending hours choosing outfits, rehearsing flourishes and precise movements. He’s also researching the heist itself, of course. But this time, Juno seems more annoyed with all the time he spends on his research. Juno lounges on the bed watching his boyfriend practicing his entrance over and over, only interrupted by occasional dives to double check his books.

Juno huffs and breaks the silence.

“What a bunch of bullshit, can you believe people actually think this hypnosis shit works? Controlling other people with your voice, my ass.” He rolls his shoulders, they've been tense for days, and the pain is worsening his mood.

“Oh now, it’s a performance like any other,” Nureyev replies, “but my research shows people can be put in a trance, can be hypnotized, provided they want it themselves. One cannot make someone do something against their will. They must want to be hypnotized, to let go and be open and obedient. It's quite interesting."

“Can’t see why anyone would want that at all.” Juno says in a snappy retort, but he considers it in his head. Being in a trance, mind blank, just floating and being open to... whoever’s in control. He’d hate it, of course, he’d feel way too vulnerable. Even more so in front of a crowd, at a show of all things. He needs to always be alert.

But…

Sometimes he just wants a break from it all, even his own head. Especially his own head. To relax and leave himself in the hands of... well. Maybe he can see the appeal, just a little.

He doesn’t say any of this out loud, of course. Nureyev just hums, practising how he'll pick his pendant out of his front pocket.

“Juno,” he says after a while, “since you’re not receptive to actually being hypnotized, can I test the act on you? Then you can tell me how it looks, without being distracted.” He smiles, one of his canines peeking out.

“Yeah, alright,” Juno replies, trying to sound nonchalant. He sits up at the edge of the bed, stretching a little, ignoring the little jump of excitement he feels for a brief moment. “But I’m still gonna tell you whenever you sound way too ridiculous.”

Nureyev's smile widens, and Juno's eye focus on his sharp teeth. “Wonderful, Juno.”

Nureyev starts with his grand entrance, speaking to the imaginary audience. Juno’s both in awe at his confidence and ability to glide seamlessly into the role, through the sheer ridiculousness of it all.

He resists the temptation to make a snide remark when Nureyev adresses an invisible audience member with the tales of his past deeds.

“… and I shall do it all, with this!” Nureyev reveals the crystal pendant he’s fastened to a chain in a dramatic flourish. “Now, esteemed audience, please quiet down so I can demonstrate my abilities on this lovely lady.”

He sits on a chair in front of Juno. “Now please Juno, focus on the crystal. Let your thoughts clear. All that matters is to keep your eye on the crystal, and listen to my voice…”

Juno rolls his eye, but still leans forward. Nureyev holds the crystal up by the chain so it catches the light, and starts swinging it slowly back and forth.

"That looks really stupid," Juno remarks.

Nureyev shushes him.

It’s a pretty jewel, probably worth quite a lot. Juno wonders where Nureyev stole it. It’s a deep violet that shifts from a sparkling, deep blue, into a gold-speckled pink. It naturally grabs his attention, swinging back and forth. The swinging part still looks stupid. But maybe it would be nice to...

The pendant swings, and Nureyev keeps talking in his smooth voice. This might not be so bad, after all. Juno doesn’t feel vulnerable, there’s nothing to be worried about, he knows he’s safe with Nureyev. Who’s currently speaking, but Juno can’t recall what he’s been saying. He focuses on Nureyev’s steady voice again; he loves listening to that melodic voice.

“You feel the tension leave your jaw, your neck, your chest, arms, that’s it, relax…”

It’s surprisingly easy, Juno thinks, to relax. Usually it’s hard to let go of all the tension that sits in his body. It's such a constant part of him that it almost feels strange how easy it melts from his limbs.

“… your stomach, your legs..."

He's breathing more deeply now, he notices. It's comfortable where he sits on the bed, letting his eye follow the pretty pendant that catches the light. He's safe here.

"...very good, relax for me, you're doing so well."

Juno feels warm at that. He's glad he's doing well. Nureyev's voice really suits this kind of thing, he thinks. Smooth and low and inviting. Juno wants to tell him he sounds nice, but he's so relaxed. It can wait. He struggles to keep his eye open.

"... even more relaxed and sleepy, and you'll only let go on my count - wait, Juno?"

The pendant stops for a moment. Juno lets out a low, protesting sound. It's very hard, but Juno lifts his heavy eye to Nureyev's face. He was doing well, wasn't he?

"Are you really -?" Nureyev says softly.

Juno's so relaxed and comfortable, he felt so close to letting go and now he's confused about what Nureyev's even talking about. He manages a questioning "hmm?"

Nureyev stares at him for a long moment, considering, and then he smiles again, showing his sharp teeth. He cups Juno's face, and it feels nice, so Juno leans into it.

"Oh Juno, you are too lovely, " Nureyev says and holds up the pendant again, swinging the beautiful crystal. "Look back at the crystal and keep listening. That's it, well done, and you feel yourself gliding back into the comfortable feeling. Just focus on my voice and how good it feels."

Juno's eye is following the jewel again, how it catches the light, his breathing evening out. He feels like he's enveloped in a soft blanket.

"When I count down, you will feel even more relaxed at every step. When I reach zero, you will sleep for me. You'll be fully under, open, and relaxed. No need to be distracted, just be in the moment, no need to think of anything else..."

Distantly, Juno hears Nureyev speak for another minute, then he starts to count down from ten. For every number, he feels heavier, and more and more comfortable. It's so easy to let go. He wants to let go, to let Nureyev take care of him. Vaguely, he realizes he's wanted it ever since Nureyev introduced him to his newest con. Blank, soft, mindless. Quiet. Juno wants that, and he trusts Nureyev. Of course he does.

"Zero. Sleep for me, Juno."

Juno does.