#only one out of four of those scenarios is even remotely fine

[thevegetablewhichnoonedaresname]

many thoughts, head full. will resume goofy tumblr activities whenever i feel like it (which is probably now/soon/today) despite that

[sw124]

Crossover scenario…

{Rainy is @rainy-nomad for those who need context}

Ok folks so…I was whittled down and I decided to both read and watch the anime Assassination Classroom and…I’m hooked, also Rainy [the one who got me into it] started doing a crossover with it and…I decided to do a small fic just to both entertain myself and those who enjoy my content. As all who read my work know both Rainy and I collaborated on a the AU name Jitterbug for her AU of Sun and Moon from Security Breach. Those who read my little stories know of my oc Clover for FNAF Security Breach, for those who don’t, check out my work here on tumblr.

Anyway on to the point, fans of Rainy’s work will note the new crossovers an Sun and Moon being Sensei Koro’s sons, inspired I then started thinking about Clover being among his children. I’ve already thought of so many scenarios and scenes that would be a hoot to write but this in one particular scene in question…… I just HAD TO WRITE AND SHARE!

An so you know I just started this series so I’m not familiar with most characters but thats why I got the manga, however I’m gonna work with only a small group of characters till I’m properly familiar with the series. Please bare with me and enjoy.

[Well….shall we get started?]

Classroom 3-E was strangely…quiet today, everyone could feel something was..wrong. Even the teacher seemed to be out of sorts, constantly turning to look out the window. Nagisa wasn’t sure what it was but…this feeling started three days ago, everyone in the main building had suddenly gotten violently sick. He turned to look at Sun and Moon…the two of them staring out the window just like their father.

“Hey…Nagisa….” He turned to Kayano, her expression giving away more then words could say…she knew something.

“Yeah?”

“Do you think…it’s true?”

‘It’ being the rumor of a strange plague going around, Kunugigaoka Junior High wasn’t the only place being affected by this strange sickness. Another school was hit as well and there were a few cases in some hospitals, the sickness mostly consisted of sever abdominal pain, violent vomiting/diarrhea that lead to dehydration if not monitored carefully, but it wasn’t deadly but the affects lasted a while.

However…something didn’t feel right about this so called ‘plague’ true it affected their school but the first school that got this sickness was far away and remote. On top of that only a few students got ill, the rest were all fine and they recovered in less then a few hours while everyone in their school continued to suffer. Not just students but teachers as well, classroom 3-E was the only class unaffected…

But thats not what really bothered him..not exactly, what bothered him was about two weeks ago a group of kids from the main building were talking about a a random cat that died saying it was ‘disposed’ of by someone…and of course Classe E was the one getting blamed. It was really disgusting to hear the rumors, everyone thinking they tortured the cat. From what he heard the cat just got hit by a car, it was old an slow. He knew this…cause he actually saw this cat periodically around the old building.

When he found the cat it had just gotten hit by a car…poor thing….saw it had a collar but no name tag, just a little charm on it. The charm itself didn’t look special, just a little four leaf clover shaped charm, something you’d find in a little bead set…an yet something about it felt…odd. Weird enough that when he gave the cat a proper burial he kept the charm and collar just in case he found the cats owner….that was also…when-

“Nagisa!” Kayano whispered harshly.

Nagisa jumped a little and turned to Kayano “The illness….no I-“

“What?!…You didn’t hear? Everyone’s saying the illness is being caused by a ghost roaming around the school!”

…What? This was new to him, now there was a ghost?

“Quit being stupid, that was started out of hysteria. Pretty sure it’s some kind of virius, just haven’t figured out what kind yet.” Growled Ryoma.

Nagisa looked back to the front of the class, Sensei Koro was still writing out some sentences while staring outside. There was something going on…but what?

Suddenly the school bell rang for lunch, Sensei Koro placed down one of the pieces of chalk and turned to his class.

“Lunchtime everyone! I’m gonna pop over to Tokyo for some spicy ramen, Sunny, Moony can you do me a favor. I’ll be back in a little bit, if you all need anything hit me up on my cellphone!” An like that he took off into the sky, going his usual Mach 20.

Sun and Moon reached into their bags pulling out an envelope labeled for them, the moment the envelopes came out…they disappeared. Having the same speed and efficiency as their father, the two of them walking calmly out of the classroom.

“What do you think was in the letters?” Pondered Kanzaki.

“Who knows…probably something about eating healthy but given neither of them looked embarrassed or annoyed…it’s safe to say that it probably has to do with whats going on in school.” Ms.Vitch was next to chime in.

Karasuma was on the phone with someone from the ministry of health, giving details on the conditions of some of the students.

The only one not really affected by what was going on was Karma, he seemed to be as calm as ever, heck he probably was enjoying the fact the teachers in the main part of the school were getting sick too and badly for that matter. But everyone agreed that no one could be safe from this, everyone was bringing hand sanitizer. Nevertheless everyone was eating their lunches, Moon and Sun came back after ten minutes…looking a little troubled.

“Hey, you guys ok?” Asked Kayano.

Neither of them answered, Karma turn and motioned everyone outside. Nagisa, Kayano, Kanzaki, Vitch and Karasuma followed while the rest of the class stayed. They gathered outside near the equipment shed, once there Karma sat down and started eating.

“So whats up?” Kanzaki opened his bento.

“Lets cut to the chase, we all know somethings going on in the main building and already its blaming us. I eves dropped on some students and already they plan to come up here and trash our building thinking we’re the cause of this strange illness. Their gonna do it in three days.” Smiled Karma taking a bite of fried chicken.

….Wait, he looked in his box, he didn’t pack fried chicken, he packed meatballs…he sat it aside, probably the Sensei’s doing.

“Your not gonna eat that, it looks delicious!” Said Kayano.

“…Not hungry, anyway like I said everyone in the main building is blaming us for this sickness. Problem is they got no proof, if we clear up whats going on maybe we can prevent them from getting up here and doing damage.”

“Why do they always blame us, seriously their paranoid.” Said Kanzaki.

“Never the less they’re probably serious on coming up here, the fact we’re not affected is what’s fueling their paranoia anyway. If some of us got sick with this so called ‘plague’ they’d still think we’re the cause.” Said Karasuma.

He continued. “Anyway we sent samples over to the ministry of health and it turns out that its not a virus, it’s some kind of spore.”

“Spore?” Everyone turned to him.

“Thats what our scientists are saying, its harmless but given its affects on the students it still needs to be dealt with quickly and quietly…though we need to know where to start.”

Irina suddenly thought of something and smirked. “I say we investigate the school itself, check the air systems and see if someone released anything in there. Keep it small though, too many of use will make things difficult.”

“Should we bring Koro-Sensei?” Asked Kayano.

“No…he seems preoccupied with something else, but we should tell him what we’re doing. Maybe bring Sun an Moon with us though.” Said Karasuma, it was a good idea he had to give Irina that.

[Skip to near midnight]

Nagisa, Kayano, Karasuma, Irina, Kanzaki, accompanied by Sun and Moon met at the back of the main building of the school. Everyone wearing masks, Sun and Moon wearing their own style of course.

“Thanks for helping us guys.” Kayano turned to Sun and gave him a little bow.

“Its no trouble, we’d like to see this clear up as soon as possible…” Sun gave a nervous little chuckle before turning to his brother…who didn’t say anything.

“Your dad ok with this?” Ask Irina.

“He’s….sorta occupied with something else right now, we told him we’re gonna help you guys but we didn’t really give details.” Said Sun.

“Alright enough talk, lets begin.” Said Karasuma.

Everyone laid out the plan, scout out the main places the spores could could be found, Sun and Moon would take the roof, Karasuma and Kayano would check the classrooms, Irina and Kanzaki would check the gym while Nagisa would check the kitchen.

Finding it proved to be no problem, the kitchen seemed clean but looks were very deceiving. He started looking around…suddenly regretting not grabbing a proper dinner at home. His stomach growled a bit but ignored it….thats when he twitched feeling. He looked down and in his hand was…a a bento wrapped in a green cloth.

Nagisa sighed and pulled out his walkie talkie.

“Hey Sun, I appreciate the thought but I don’t think its safe to eat something right now.”

There was a pause…then Moon responded. “What the heck are you talking about?”

“….I just had a bento dropped into my hand a moment ago, since your dad’s not here I assumed it was Sun…wait Moon did you-“

Moon cut him off. “No one brought food, if there’s spores it’d be too dangerous to do so.”

There was…a long pause before Nagisa looked down at his hand, he was about to say something when…he suddenly found the box was now sitting on the counter, unwrapped and a pair of chopsticks all set neat and tightly. There was even a freshly made cup of tea setting there too, there was a note sitting there too.

‘Please enjoy, thank you!’

There was no name…but there was a picture of a four leaf clover, needless to say he wasn’t gonna eat it, not when there-

Wait…a clover? He reached into his pocket and pulled out the charm, but the moment he looked at it..it disappeared. He flinched…then he felt it, someone behind him. He turned to find…well an adult but for a second he didn’t see anything…until he looked down. There standing before him was…a kid….wearing a plague doctor mask…but the clothes were not what he expected. She wore a scarf on her head with a flower on it, a white apron with green frills and a four leaf clover with its four leafs decorated differently with either hearts, leaves, spots and one was just a solid color. The clothes under the apron from what Nagisa could see were were a pair of pastel overalls and a white shirt.

Then he noticed….this kid had ‘four’ arms….similar to Sun and Moon.

“….Um….hi-“

An like that the figure disappeared, the walkie talkie up by his head already calling.

“Sun, Moon, your dad said you guys have an older brother, does he…wear a plague mask by any chance?”

There was a long pause before Moon answered.

“No…we have a sister that does though….”

“WHAT?!” Irina shouted over the walkie.

“Wait a minute, I thought your dad said you guys had a brother!” Said Kayano next.

“Yeah we do, but you guys only asked about ‘sons’ you never asked if he had any daughters…which he does, she’s still in elementary school though.” Replied Sun….

But then asked. “Why do you ask?”

“Does she also….wear an apron with a clover on it, wear a cloth headband with a flower-“

An the twins were by his side.

“WHERE IS SHE?!” They screamed, both of them sounding like they were told their dad was wearing a bikini or something.

“Whoa! S-She was just here…she made me something to eat apparently.”

The twins looked over the food and then…both looked up at each other before Moon picked up his cellphone and made a call.

“…Dad its me, I think we found out what Clover’s been up to. Check her little cabinet and see if those new mushrooms she brought home are gone…..thought so, she’s here at the school now. Yeah we’re sure, Nagisa just saw her and she even made him something to eat, its her.” Moon had just hung up when Koro-Sensei appeared beside them.

“What on earth is my baby doing here so late at night!?”

Nagisa gave a blank stare before Koro-Sensei looked at the boxed lunch, opening it there was a gourmet spread of rolled eggs, veggies, sliced hotdogs that looked like octopi and fresh fried chicken.

“Oh without a doubt she’s here…but this doesn’t make sense why is she in ‘plague’ mode an why is she targeting the school?” Pondered Koro-Sensei.

Everyone soon converged in the kitchen and was given a quick update on the situation, Karasuma turned to Sun and started the questions.

“So whats the deal with your ‘sister’ and this ‘plague mode’ your father’s talking about?”

“Her name is Clover and ‘plague’ mode is what when our sister is feeling extremely spiteful or is has a serious grudge against someone or something. Lately she’s been at the house cause her school up in the mountains had some issues with flooding that was about a month ago an she was ok…up until two weeks ago.” Moon sighed rubbing the back of his head.

“What happened two weeks ago?” Asked Irina.

“We’re not sure, she started being distant and locking herself up in her room. Not just that but she was wearing her mask at all times, that for us is never a good sign.”

Wait…two weeks ago…Nagisa spoke next.

“Your sister…wouldn’t have had a pet cat would she?”

Everyone turned to him.

“….There is a stray she looks after….why?” Asked Sun.

Nagisa reached into his pocket and pulled out the charm and collar.

“Two weeks ago a cat got ran over by a car, I gave it a proper burial but kept the collar and charm in case I ran into the owner.” He handed the items over to Koro-Sensei.

Instantly he bursted into tears, not just him but Sun too….Moon cried too but his was more subdued…everyone stared.

“MY POOR BABY’S IN MOURNING!!!” Cried Koro-Sensei.

“POOR CLOVER!!! SHE DIDN’T WANT US TO SEE HER SAD!!!” Cried the twins.

Everyone just stared at them before Irina spoke up. “This doesn’t explain anything, what does her cat dying have anything to do with everyone getting sick?!”

Kayano thought for a moment…then a thought came to mind, she turned to Nagisa. “Nagisa, you said you buried the cat right?”

Nagisa nodded.

“Where exactly did you bury the cat?”

“I buried it near that vacant lot…an I left it some flowers too, silly I know but I felt bad for it.” It was then he noticed Kayano’s face going slightly pale.

“….Kaedae?” Kanzaki stepped closer to her.

“I saw a few kids from the elite classes near there…I saw them kicking some dirt around along with some flowers. I overheard them saying some mean things about our class but I didn’t think anything of it….but now-“

The room went cold.

“….This explains everything…” said Koro-Sensei, halting his tears and gently tapping his chin with a tentacle, he returned the collar and charm back to Nagisa who proceeded to pocket the items.

He continued. “Clover hasn’t touched our class room because one, its a classroom I personally teach an her brothers attend and two she spared our classroom from her ‘plague’ out of gratitude to Nagisa for giving her favorite kitty a proper burial. The students from the main building probably saw you bury the cat and believed it was yours thus they proceeded to desecrate that poor creatures grave. Clover must have witnessed both events an thus triggered ‘plague’ mode in her. Before her school was closed due to the flooding damage there was an incident involving a special kind of mushroom at her school.”

“Mushroom?” Everyone looked up.

“Its a very unique species found only in the mountains, a few children had picked these mushrooms and on a dare at them. They all came down with the same ailments as the students here, however my daughter has advance medical knowledge and was able to treat them within an hour. The mushroom itself is toxic but not deadly even in large quantities, its side effects involve sever abdominal pain and…well as we all know of the two other side affects.” Koro-Sensei reached out a long tentacle and pulled out a pot, with another dragged it all along the inside of the cooking utensil.

Pulling it out he held it close to his face, he turned to look at everything.

“No doubt about it, she spiked all the food in the school with it. Its also safe to say she used her powder capsules of it in everyone’s bentos. Knowing my little sweetie she probably overheard a lot of students and teachers badmouthing our class and thus decided to teach them all a lesson, not just the ones who messed up the grave.”

With their speed the twins along with their father had disinfected the entire kitchen, cleaning it of the substance.

“I’ll talk to the Principle tomorrow let him know the issue has been dealt with.” Said Karasuma, honestly he wasn’t feeling to sorry for the students at least the ones affected by poisoning.

The principles methods don’t account for basic human compassion…just fear and power, Nagisa smiled knowing that the threat was dealt with. When everyone was distracted he turned and walked out into the hallway…he turned slightly and…there was Clover standing there, back to the wall. Nagisa wasn’t too surprised, now knowing who this person was….

“Your Clover…right?” Asked Nagisa.

She nodded.

Nagisa smiled, walked over and knelt down infront of her, reaching into his pocket he pulled out both the collar and charm and held them out to her…who gingerly took them from his hand.

“I was hoping to return this…here you go, also thank you for the food…I’ll go eat it now.” Nagisa stood up but paused…an then held out his hand.

“I’m sure your dad and brothers wanna talk to you…its ok I’ll go in with you.” He held out his hand…but watched as she reached and pulled off her mask, her face was more round then Sun an Moons but she had big green eyes glittered and a sweet little button nose.

She sniffled and tried to wipe away her tears.

“I-I’m sorry….the-the kids here were s-so mean! I got angry!” She sobbed brokenly, pushing herself into him and hugging him tightly. “They said so many me-mean things about my kitty, an more stuff about daddy’s class….I-I’m sorry!”

Nagisa wasn’t sure what to do…given she lost a pet and hearing people mock her father’s class must’ve been a lot for her.

“SWEETIE!!”

Koro-Sensei bursted through the kitchen doors and already his daughter was up in his tentacles, hankie’s dabbing her cheeks and nose.

“My poor little darling! Why didn’t you tell daddy what was wrong, or your brothers we would have understood..”

“I-I didn’t want you to be sad daddy! You or-or Moony or S-Sunny! WAAAHHH!!!” The little one buried herself into his chest and sobbed.

“OH my selfless angel, you don’t ever have to worry about us!” Said Koro-Sensei, sobbing along with his daughter…soon joined by his twins.

…….Things just became more weird now.

End.

[cherrysung]

dom antics

pairing: boyfriend!jeno x reader

genre: smut / slight fluff

warnings: soft dom!jeno, very slight degration, praising, fingering, oral (f. receiving), riding, unprotected sex (stay safe!)

prompts: none.

summary: a pleasant twist is always openly welcomed, but with your boyfriend’s inevitable nature, how will you present the idea?

requested by anon.

word count: 1.6k

note: anon I’m so sorry I’ve taken so long, this is most likely schedule because I’m on a short break to get my life together. when this is posted though, I hope this is what you wanted and I truly hope you enjoy it! and thank you for waiting! ps. I’m unable to add a “read more” option until a bug with my blog gets fixed.

cherrysung’s navigation

Eyes that creased exactly into moon crescents and a smile that made everyone want to squeeze his cheeks were not enough to fool you anymore, but they were small characteristics that also made you fall hopelessly in the beginning. Now you knew, those were meant to be seen, sure—but not what happened behind closed doors—not what happened to you, behind closed doors.

Jeno was far from being the sweet soul everyone thought he was, but at least some of his kindness managed to shine within the endless torture he’d sometimes put you through. Just for his amusement.

Your legs thrashed chaotically and unstoppably on the bed, you still had not even reached your first orgasm, but your boyfriend already had you feeling so riled up with his constant, teasing touches.

“Babygirl, we haven’t even gotten started,” Jeno chuckled with a hint of surprise in his voice. All he had been doing was mischievously kiss and suck at your neck for several minutes while his hands caressed your sides. You now laid on the soft mattress all at his mercy, legs still kicking desperately in annoyance at his lack of touches where it actually mattered—between your thighs. Soaked, and dripping, between your thighs.

“You have been teasing for so long.” You simply stated, rolling your eyes when he once again lowered his head to your neck, slightly wet lips pressing soothing pecks on your sensitive skin.

He continued to suck purples, reds and blues all around your neck and collarbones, occasionally shifting lower in the direction of your bare chest but never fully reaching your hard nipples. All because he felt like it.

You whined once again, back arching until your chest was pressed against his own, and Jeno could only smile at your impatience. He might be hard on you, constantly tricking you into believing you’d be finally receiving a different treatment other than the colorful masterpieces he never failed to leave on your neck, only to then later edge you to extreme heights that had you reaching the sky and touching the bright stars while tears streamed down your face at his unmerciful ministrations.

Still, even with the wet mascara staining your hot cheeks and your body constantly jumping at the oversensitivity while your lips spilled nonsense, there was always a small action of his paired with the rest of his ruthless movements that very slightly balanced everything. As a result, a special and unique moment was created.

“Use your words or I’ll carry on doing this until I force the begging out of you. What sounds better?”

You whined—again—and you had lost track of how many times you had already pathetically attempted to move his hands somewhere else; yet, they always returned to their previous position on your waist.

“P-Please Jeno, touch me! I’m so d-desperate for you to touch me.” The words left your lips in stutters, absolutely drowned in impatience you no longer cared how ridiculous you might sound.

Your boyfriend smiled, and there it was again, the eye creasing smile that had made you fall in love with him. Had it not made an appearance during the current situation, your cheeks would’ve immediately been painted pink and your hands would’ve quickly moved on their own to cup the boy’s face and lovingly press your lips against his. Right now, though, all you wanted to do was slap the look away.

“Yes, princess? Touch you? Where do you want me to touch you? Show me.” He cooed adorably, body still hovering over yours as he lovingly pecked your cheeks and forehead.

You nodded, gently taking his bigger hand in yours and guiding downwards; down, down, down, until it was innocently resting over your warm heat, barely convered by your sheer, lace underwear. Silently, you moved his remaining hand up to your lonely tit before locking eyes with him, the gaze enough to let him know just how much you wanted this.

He wasted no time in tearing the fabric off your pussy, but you were too far drunk on his touches to muster out any complaints. Instead, you whimpered more, absolutely impatient after being teased for so long.

“You’ll have to shut up if you even remotely want any of this, you know?” He whispered sinfully in your ear, fingers running up and down through your wet folds playfully. “My pretty, little slut.”

Jeno plunged two fingers into your hole with no warning whatsoever, setting a fast pace right away that had your legs thrashing around the sheets once again and both your hands covering your mouth to stop any sounds of pleasure from spilling. He curled, and caressed your sweet spot; he knew all your weaknesses and favorite places better than you ever could.

Your back continuously arched off the bed, clit occasionally rubbing against his wrist every time you raised your hips. His free hand left your breast, instead replacing it with yours before taking hold of your legs and wrapping them around his neck. In no time your boyfriend was diving into your pussy, tongue swirling around or llicking at your sensitive nub and folds that shined with your juices, all while a third finger was added into your clenching walls.

“J-Jeno, I’m going to cum.” You whimpered, unable to remain quiet any longer as you pinched at your nipples in ecstasy.

“Nonsense.” He replied, a whine leaving you when all ministrations came to a halt. He moved his face away from your cunt, all for you to admire the light sheen of your wetness on his chin and pink lips. “You’ll cum with my dick.”

You nodded desperately, if it weren’t for the current scenario he would’ve surely laughed at how impatient you were for his cock. Yet, he didn’t, because he was just as excited to fuck you deep into the mattress and tell you how good of a girl you are. Right?

A thought that had been on your mind for a few weeks now struck you once again, and you fiddled with your fingers nervously as you scanned over the boy who was currently undressing himself.

He must’ve noticed your sudden state of daze, hand gently guiding your chin so your eyes would stare back at him. “What’s wrong?”

You blinked once, twice; eyes immediately looking elsewhere before you confessed, “could I try riding you today? If you aren’t fine with the idea then we can just forget it though—”

“Let’s do it.”

“Really?” Your eyes locked with his brown orbs, the slight nod of his head and the smile that adorned his lips enough to assure you.

Soon, you were straddling Jeno, his hands gripping at your waist as you lowered yourself down onto his angry cock, the tip red and swollen as precum ran down the sides.

Moans left the two of you as you took all of him, a groan falling off his lips once he was fully settled deep inside your warm walls, the feeling heavenly and like none other he had felt before. Now, he wondered why he hadn’t asked you for this any earlier.

“Baby, you take my dick so well. So full of it. Good fucking girl.” He gritted out, lips gingerly kissing at your neck before nuzzling his face into your tits.

You began moving ever so slightly, slowly moving up and down his dick to test the waters. You had no idea what you were doing, but it felt incredible for the both of you. The tip of his dick kissed at your sweet spot with no problem, eliciting whimpers that rumbled from your chest and shocks of shivers that ran down your spine.

Jeno continued to suck on one of your nipples, your movements becoming faster and faster by the minute, and in no time—you were bouncing on your boyfriend’s dick as if you had been doing it for years.

“Fuck!” He groaned, letting you take full control of the pace while the bed creaked loudly, the sound of skin slapping and your unholy sounds the only thing that echoed between the four walls you were in. “You are doing so well, baby, so so good.”

He could only bask in the feeling of his cock sliding against your slick walls, constantly reaching the deepest parts of your heat deliciously as it clenched around his throbbing shaft.

“J-Jeno, I won't last much longer—”

He caressed your sides gently before thrusting up into your hole, and you wordlessly thanked him with a passionate kiss as the burning in your thighs gradually went away. Jeno pulled you closer to his body, loving the feeling of your tits bouncing against his chest before bringing one hand to your clit, rubbing quick circular motions and eventually prompting your much awaited release after so much teasing.

His hands held your shaking body tenderly, rubbing at your back soothingly as his movements abruptly stopped and ropes of his cum filled your hole, the white substance trickling down your thighs not too much long after.

He sighed, hips slightly grinding into you while you rested your face limply on his shoulder, pressing light kisses on your cheeks as the both of you came down from your highs.

“You should ride me more often.” Jeno smiled, carefully moving your body off his member and laying you down on the fluffy sheets. He threw on some new underwear and sweats and returned from the bathroom with a warm washcloth to clean the dried juices from your thighs.

You smiled back at him, eyes threatening to flutter close as you jumped at the oversensitivity whenever the cloth got too near your heat. “Really? I thought you wouldn’t like the idea since you always like being in control.”

“Correction—I’m still in control, that’s why I’m letting you fuck me.”

“Of course.” You snorted, watching him get rid of the cloth before joining you on the bed, immediately snuggling up to him and resting your cheek on his bare chest.

“We should probably take a shower soon.” He whispered, fingers running through your hair.

“Later. I know what a shower together usually means, you pervert.”

“You know it. I love you.”

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

how do you think edward would react if he was in the same truck-baseball game time loop bella was in (either if bella was in it or wasn't, whatever you prefer)

For reference, that one time Bella's stuck in a time loop.

Are we asking to make Edward even crazier than usual? Well, that will surely go... interesting places. Let's do it.

Edward In the Loop With Bella

Loop One

There Edward is, facing off with James, Victoria, and Laurent, gearing up for the fight of his life as he realizes exactly what it is James wants and is planning and then...

Then he blinks, he's in the parking lot, Bella's about to be hit by a van.

Edward panics, desperately saves her life, and has no idea what's happening. Did he... hallucinate those months? Were those his lovesick dreams of having Bella for himself?

Of course they were, he says as he drives to the hospital in Bella's car, sobbing as he listens to George Michael's Careless Whisper. For Bella, this bright, beautiful, angelic girl, could never love a beast such as him. He desperately tries to put his love for Bella out of his mind, for it can never be, what they had was a dream and nothing more.

BEEEEEELLLLLLLAAAAAA!

Bella ruins this noble, romantic, tragedy in two seconds when Edward enters the hospital and goes, "You're not going to believe me, but I'm from the fuuuuuuutuuuuuuure!"

Well, Edward doesn't actually like that, makes all of this a little anticlimactic. He questions her extensively, tries to convince her that she's just hallucinating, she hit her head pretty hard, but eventually gives up. Their memories seem to match up exactly, he and Bella are actually from the future.

Edward's not even sure why he's disappointed himself, yet, somehow he is.

He goes home and gets to be the one to tell the Cullens it's all fine, he's from the future, Bella is too, they're not going to kill her because Edward's in love with her, can we skip this?

The Cullens stare, Alice really doesn't know how she feels about this, but we get a similar reaction to canon. Where Carlisle says, "Alright then... I guess this means no moving."

Edward sighs, for the first time, he doesn't really feel like going to Bella's that night. He instead sits at the piano, playing Chop Sticks, wondering why he feels so despondent.

Bella loves him, he loves Bella, they're dating, he has everything he ever wanted. Why isn't he happy?

He gets to school and Bella's very clingy and seems to want to pick off exactly where they left off. She wants Edward to sit with her at lunch, she's talking about visiting the Cullens as soon as possible, she wants to go on a real date.

And Edward realizes that he doesn't have to battle with himself to stay away from Bella anymore, he's done that. He doesn't have to rescue her in Port Angeles, Bella's not going. He's not taking her to the meadow, he's done that too.

Edward's been there and done that for all of this. This isn't even a chance to redo his mistakes, if he'd really made any, because all the things he'd want to do again involve Bella who came back with him.

Edward throws himself into dating Bella, trying to shake himself loose from this strange sense of apathy. Bella doesn't even seem to notice the difference in him, something in Edward... grows a little cold.

He finds himself to returning to his plans of how best to nobly leave her. Something he always acknowledged he would do, but before looked at with reluctance. Now he actively schemes when and how it should occur.

He should wait until summer, that will be easiest on the family for the pretext of "moving", and that way he can go to Prom with Bella. She'll get over him quickly, move on with her human life, while Edward watches her from the shadows.

Bella finally starts to notice that Edward is... distant. She tries to confront him, ask what she's doing wrong, and desperately throws herself into the relationship. That just makes it worse for Edward.

The pair start fighting, Edward insists Bella does not come to the baseball game, and just then they loop again.

Loop Two

Edward's back in the parking lot, Bella's about to be hit by a van. Edward once again heroically saves her, but he feels as if he's going through the motions.

In the hospital room, neither Bella nor Edward say a word to one another, both realize exactly what has happened. After a moment of silence, Edward suggests that, perhaps, what they need is distance.

Just a few weeks apart.

Bella says nothing.

Edward consults Alice, telling her what's been happening to him, and Alice tells him that as far as she can tell nothing is wrong with time itself. Her visions work as usual, it's just that Edward and Bella's decisions have changed.

Though, not the outcomes, Alice confirms that either Bella will become a vampire or she'll die. Alice suggests, hesitantly, that if this keeps happening perhaps Bella has to be a vampire to stop this.

Perhaps that's why Alice only sees two futures. Because any future where Bella remains human, they loop.

Edward refuses to accept this in a rage. This, this cannot happen, he will loop for all eternity rather than turn Bella! HE IS NOT A TOY OF FATE!

There's a fire in Edward now, he returns through Bella's bedroom window, and restarts their passionate romance. Bella's thrilled, the love of her life has come back for her, she cries tears of joy.

For months, Bella and Edward are back in the honeymoon stage of their romance.

They loop again.

Loop Three

Bella points out that they're still looping. This is... starting to get weird. Maybe they should figure out solutions to this?

Edward says THIS IS FINE, with Alice's words ringing in the back of his mind. Bella can never know.

Too bad for him, this is Bella's first guess. Maybe, if she becomes a vampire, somehow the loops will stop. EDWARD WILL NEVER TARNISH HER LIKE THAT.

Bella is very hurt, and upset, and asks if Edward will seriously spend forever, trapped in these few months, unable to move forward rather than turn her.

Edward desperately tries to convince her that these months are wonderful. You love being trapped in this timeframe, Bella.

He romances her harder than ever, only this time, Bella's the one that's not thrilled.

She and Edward have no future. Edward would literally rather be trapped in this utterly absurd scenario, never able to move forward with their lives, rather than turn her into a vampire.

A lot of fights happen. In desperation, Edward proves that they can move forward, that this endless loop is what vampirism itself is like, where time ceases to have meaning. He proposes to Bella, they will marry.

Bella flat out says no, she doesn't want to marry, and god marry while she's still in highschool? Can she even legally get married right now?

Edward... did not expect that answer.

The pair end up on and off fighting up until the loop happens.

Loop Four

This time, distracted by his own ire, Edward forgets to stop the van. Bella is crushed, Edward and the family have to hightail it out of there to not slurp her blood off the asphalt, and Edward is horrified.

He... murdered Bella. She's dead, because he allowed petty arguments to distract him. Oh god.

To his horror, the loop keeps going, and he lives in terror that it will proceed past the baseball game. What if Bella's dead forever? What if, rather than turn her, the only other way out of the loop was her death?

Edward's an utter mess, clawing at the walls, and the family doesn't understand at all because Bella Swan is simply a girl who had a tragic death.

To Edward's horrified relief, he loops.

Loop N

Bella remembers Edward failed to save him. She does not blame him for it, but Edward certainly blames himself and there's now... a wall between them that wasn't there.

Nonetheless, they try again. This time, they'll go back to the basics.

Edward eats her in the meadow.

They loop.

Edward keeps accidentally eating her.

It's horrible and then he realizes... it doesn't matter. It never lasts, he's a monster yes, but he always was one. It seems he's doomed to eat Bella Swan. And at least he knows she'll be here tomorrow.

And if he's damned anyway then he might as well enjoy it.

He starts eating her on purpose.

Soon, they get a little routine down.

Bella nearly gets hit by a van, Edward saves her life, they go to the hospital, Edward drags her into a closet, eats her, then throws her corpse out the window and tells Carlisle she committed suicide.

Such a tragic end.

Bella starts desperately trying to save herself, but it's all over so quick, now her life is endlessly getting eaten by Edward.

Given this loop seems to be infinitely long, and thus all remote possibilities will eventually occur, there will be a timeline where Edward accidentally turns Bella into a vampire.

However, Edward can't do math, so he hasn't figured that out yet.

In the meantime, now that he's let go of all morality, he's having a great time.

... And it's probably best we leave Edward looping on his own for another post. That got long.

[heartcal]

distant; c.h.

it’s finally here omg and being posted on time too (barely)!

this was an idea i started writing back in late 2015 (literally the first few paragraphs are from the old draft with some editing) and while cleaning up my drafts i decided to continue it since i liked it :^D

pairing: calum hood x reader (i tried to make it gender neutral so if i used pronouns while describing the reader, i apologize and feel free to let me know!)

summary: you feel like the relationship is deteriorating because he’s gotten distant. you want to bring it up with him, but how can you when he doesn’t realize something is wrong? and why does it invoke a hurtful argument when you voice your feelings?

warnings: none really other than some cursing, arguing, and cal’s kinda an ass sorry lol

genre: angst, very angtsy 

wc: 2,645

my masterlist!

The candle flickered on the coffee table as the sound of rain hitting the roof was prominent. Total silence engulfed you as you finally made up your mind. Your thoughts were running wild for at least the past two hours as you went through numerous scenarios on how he’d react.

Calum had been acting different ever since he came home from tour. It felt like he was distancing himself from you as he began to hang out with his friends right as he got the time off. He already planned visits to his family, which were coming up very soon. He would text you, but they’d only be a couple of words or no more than four sentences a day. At first, you believed it was because he was tired from tour, and honestly who wouldn’t be tired if they had been on a tour bus and planes for almost a year with minimal breaks?

You understood his profession and what comes along with it, you really do.

But when you saw fan pictures or paparazzi pictures of your boyfriend having a hell of a time, obviously without you, it hurt.

You’re not clingy at all; you want him to have a lot of fun considering his age and, due to his fame, he can’t do a lot of the stuff you and other non-famous people can do. You’re not clingy at all, but you would appreciate some one-on-one time with him, especially now that he’s back from tour and soon would be promoting yet another album.

You took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down and bring forth your final thoughts on the situation. A break-up is the last thing you want to do. You want to work out whatever is happening between you two, talk it out, and straighten out any knots within the relationship. You don’t want to throw away the past two and a half years, and possibly the five years of friendship.

When you two got together it didn’t come as a surprise to those close to you. The guys were waiting for it to happen, and when it did they didn’t even bat an eye. Your family already thought the two of you were dating, while Calum’s family let out a sigh of relief when the news came out because they saw how happy you made him as a friend.

It started as a test; to see if this is what you want and if it feels right. It did, more than it should if you had to be honest. It almost scared you just how normal it felt to be with him, and the same can be said for him. You had minimal arguments, minimal disagreements; the good outweighed the bad.

But the honeymoon phase can only last so long.

The first time he went on tour when you got together, it was a promotional tour. He wasn’t gone for a long time but he did travel often. That left little to no time to talk, text, or facetime. When he was able to contact you, it was short, but he managed to make it worth it with sweet words and words of encouragement from you.

The second time was a domestic promotional tour. He had asked you to join him, and after getting the OK to work remotely from your boss, you agreed to join him. It was almost like a vacation for you, even if Calum was gone most of the day. On his days off, or when he had part of the day off, it was spent with you alone or with the guys plus you and their significant others.

The third tour was when things started to dwindle. Six months after their third album was released, they went on tour and contact was hard to get. You joined him for a month or two, but after leaving to get back to work, it began to feel like the first time he went on tour. Towards the end of the tour he frequently contacted you, stating that he was, “stressed from the constant traveling,” and he had a hard time keeping up with what day it was.

You didn’t think about it much. Touring like that can strain anyone, amateur or pro. But what you couldn’t understand was how he behaved after the tour. After the first two tours, it was fine, but after tour number three you noticed how distant he would get. Ignoring calls and texts, but updating social media at any time of day and night. It struck you as odd, but he eventually came around with an apology and lots of makeup dates.

Now after tour number four, he’s as distant as ever. You gave him some space but he never came around. It’s been two and a half weeks since you’ve had proper contact.

Running over what you want to say to him in your head, you miss the knocks on your front door. You also miss the sound of your lock turning and the door opening.

“There you are,” You jump at that, turning towards the front door with a hand on your heart.

“What—how did you get in?” You stumble, gone are the thoughts you had previously.

Calum holds his right hand up, his set of keys and key chains jingling as he shakes his hand lightly. He has a small smile on as he speaks, “You gave me a copy, remember?”

You stare blankly at him, recalling the time when you finally moved out of the apartment you shared with an old friend and their partner. You were so happy that you found a place to live on your own, closer to work and closer to Calum. You made him a copy so that he knew he was welcome (and also for safety reasons).

You nod with a hum in response, your eyes moving to the painting a few feet away from him.

If he notices your behavior, he doesn’t mention it as he puts his keys on the hook next to your while taking off his shoes (something you nagged him about since the living room had carpeting).

You knew you had to bring it up. It was sitting on your tongue but your brain couldn’t form the words and sentences that you had previously thought of.

He sighs out as he takes a seat next to you on your couch, his right arm stretched behind you on the back of the couch while his left arm rested on the arm.

You sat stiff, not leaning back or into him no matter how much you craved it. Rather than giving in, you were more focused on the anger starting to bubble up inside of you. How can he act like nothing is wrong after ignoring you for almost three weeks?

“You’re quiet tonight,” he retracts his arm from the back of the couch and moves his hand to your forehead, “You feeling okay?”

When he brings his other hand up to his own forehead, you smack his arm away.

You scoff, letting your anger show, “Really, Calum?”

His puzzled look pushes you over and you stand up.

“What?” He asks as his eyes follow you as you head to the window.

Taking a deep breath and staring out at the city below, you realize that it’s now or never. Releasing the breath as a sigh, you turn towards him.

“Is something wrong?” He questions again.

“I know that tour takes a lot out of you,” you begin, willing yourself to bring your eyes up to meet his, “but you’ve been distant—more than usual. I know you want some time to yourself after touring, and I give you the time, but I can’t help but feel ignored Calum.”

Calum stands with a frown, bringing his hands up to his head before running them down his face with a sigh. His mouth opens to say something but nothing comes out. He stands in front of his seat on the couch, hands on his hips and shoulders slumped. He wants to say something, wants to tell you that he’s not ignoring you, but he can’t bring himself to say so.

“I’ve seen the pictures of you out with your friends. I’m happy you’re spending time with them, that you’re out there having fun because I know you haven’t seen them in so long. And your family, too. But I would like to spend time with you before you head out again.”

“I spent a lot of time with you before I left,” he mumbles, taking a few steps towards you.

“I know-” you hold your hand up to stop him from getting closer, “but you also spent plenty of time with your friends.”

He takes another step towards you, ignoring your signal. His body language shows that he doesn’t want to argue; his steps are small, head tilted only slightly, his eyes are staring intently at you.

It’s silent. Your breathing picks up as you hold back frustrated tears, which causes Calum’s own breathing to falter. He moves his jaw to help ease the tension he feels – a tick you know he picked up from a tour crew member – and shakes his hands as if he was trying to rid them of something.

He inhales, eyes on the floor at his feet, “I feel like we spend too much time together.”

Ouch. His words had a sharp impact, like a punch to the gut when you least expect it. The kind of heart-dropping, breathless pain.

“You think—do you think I’m clingy?” The word leaves a bad taste in your mouth because you felt that you were far from it.

“That’s not what I said—,” he stops, taking in his lower lip with a hand ruffling the hair on his head, “—that’s not what I’m saying at all.”

“But that’s what you’re implying,” you accuse with narrow eyes.

He shakes his head, growing upset with how this night is turning out. He came over to spend time with you, knowing that when comes back from visiting his family he will have only a couple more days of rest before putting all his focus on the new album.

“Look,” he sighs and sits on the edge of the couch with his head in his hands, “all I’m saying is, I wanted to spend some time with my friends since I don’t see them as often as I see you.”

Your jaw tightens, “I understand that, but what about our relationship?”

“What about it?”

“It doesn’t feel like a relationship anymore,” you’re blunt, straight to point out how you feel.

He scoffs, “Cut the bullshit.”

Your speechless, watching him stand up and walk to the other side of the living room. The rain outside has gotten louder with an occasional rumble in the distance, but you’re focused on how he brushed off how you felt like it wasn’t important.

“Just because I don’t spend all my time with you doesn’t mean we’re not in a relationship,” he says, resting his left arm on the bookshelf against the wall, “I have other relationships to manage besides ours.”

“You barely manage this one, Calum,” a tear threatens to spill over your lower lid, “Two and a half weeks of little to no contact, and you suddenly show up to my apartment as if everything is fine? I sat here wondering if something happened on tour that was making you this distant, but from what I’ve seen on Twitter and Instagram…you’re doing just fine. You’re smiling, you’re laughing—you’re seemingly your usual self. So why did all my texts get left on read, no response at all, especially when I just wanted to know that you were okay?”

He sucks his teeth, a humorless laugh leaving his lips as he turns to look at you, “You’re overreacting.”

Another jab to the heart, and this time you let the tears freely fall down your cheeks.

He stands up straight and licks his lips, eyes dancing around the room. They bounce over photos of you with your friends, family, and him. In the back of his mind, he knows this is too much. He knows his words may be overstepping and hurtful, but he can’t see where you’re coming from.

“I’m entitled to my own life, just like you. I have friends I want to hang out with, just like you. Sometimes I need time to myself away from you. Maybe you were right earlier, maybe you are clingy.”

He watches as your tears fall, the pained expression you wear didn’t go unnoticed but he does choose to overlook it.

He cuts you off when your mouth begins to open, “Maybe another thing you were right about before, this doesn’t feel like a relationship, right?”

He rolls his shoulders, jaw clenched as he walks to the front door. Your eyes are covered with unshed tears, previous tears leaving trails down your cheeks and nose. He sees them, there’s a pounding in his brain that’s trying to take control so he can go over and console you with unlimited apologies. But he doesn’t.

Calum grabs his keys, taking off your key and tossing it to your feet. He slides his shoes on, his movements rough as his breathing gets heavier. His eyes reach yours and those dark brown eyes you grew to love have now become hurtful, clouded by an unrecognizable emotion.

His hand blindly reaches for the lock, turning it before lowering to the handle, “If this relationship doesn’t feel like one, let’s end it, yeah?”

Without another word, he opens the door and leaves. Your eyes shed the built-up tears as they fall towards the spare key on the ground.

You don’t know how it came to this. You had your mind made up of how you wanted the conversation to go, what to do if worst comes to worst and how to repair the relationship itself. You weren’t expecting him to come over. Once he walked through that door all your thoughts evaporated and you were left grasping for any remaining thoughts.

You kneel to pick up the key, but your knees are too weak to stand back up. The key glares at you, reminding you painfully of what once was.

But behind your front door stands Calum, a racing mind and pounding heart. He stares at the floor and it finally dawns on him. Mindlessly he’s ended up outside, the warm air of your apartment lobby did not prepare him for the chilly rain outside. By the time he’s in his car, he’s soaked and he’s uncomfortable.

He doesn’t start the car, instead, he reaches for the steering wheel and grips it tightly. The emotions wash over him and the tears slide down as fast as they formed. He shakily inhales, followed by a sob and a sniffle.

The rain is heavy, muting his sobs to his own ears. A sharp crack of thunder makes him jump, and after a few more sniffles and constant wiping of his cheeks, he starts his car and drives back home.

It’s late when you go to bed. The numbing pain in your chest ruins your chances of a good night’s sleep, but selflessly you wished Calum a goodnight before attempting to sleep.

Calum sleeps on his couch, too tired to bring himself to his bed but too hurt to sleep. His eyes drift to his phone on the coffee table when it vibrates; a message from a groupchat talking about an outing scheduled for tomorrow. His sore eyes shut and he turns away from the table.

In the darkness, he sees your pained expression, the way you shrunk as he threw those harsh words at you. It’s an image that will be imprinted forever in his mind, and he regrets everything.

~~~

part two!

[chalkrevelations]

SO. Word of Honor, Episode 10, and everyone is deep in their feelings … well, their feeling, which is misery.

First, due diligence, and I really mean it on this one: SPOILERS not just for this ep but for the entire show. Out of the car, for now, and come back later, if you want to watch the whole thing unspoiled.­­

Well, it’s the breakup episode, y’all. Everyone is wallowing in misery, and Our Couple is taking that out on themselves and in some cases (:cough:WKX:cough) ­on everybody around them. We open on sad-sack Wen Kexing digging sadly in the dirt with a sword, the bodies of the Four Sages of Anji laid out beside him as he gives a RIP speech about how you have to be careful when making friends, because they’ll turn out to be bad news, which is clearly yet another warning about himself, because I don’t think anyone in the mob who killed these aging hippies in the last ep was a friend (although I suppose it could be argued that WKX is talking about their friendship with Gao Chong getting them killed) and anyway, you have to understand that WKX is a demon under the skin, not even really human, you guys, and he’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Has he not made this clear by now? His sword breaks at this point, which probably ought to tell him he’s not going to be able to bury any of this mess. Then Zhou Zishu shows up and is understandably unhappy at the way his decision last ep to walk out on faith for this guy has gone completely pear-shaped, and he asks some rather pointed questions about whether four dead Sages of Anji is what WKX wanted and if he’s happy now – questions that sound, my dude, a little confrontational. I mean, I think you’re entitled, given the situation, but I’m just sayin’. WKX flings off ZZS’s hand and wants to know if “Leader Zhou” has only ever killed bad people, which is a hit that lands, and it hurts, just like it was supposed to, and this is definitely one of those nightmare scenarios where everyone just keeps digging themselves deeper. ZZS is all, FINE THEN, and leaves. Again. Because WKX is apparently a demon in human form who’s only ever going to disappoint everyone. Including his zhiji. I love you with all of my heart, ZZS, but a little bit, you come off like you only showed up to twist the knife, my man. Anyway, ZZS stomps off to go mope at Yuefan Tower, the scene of his bad decision to trust this guy BEFORE finding out he sets up revenge murders for fun. We’re treated to a flashback sequence of some of ZZS’s Tian Chuang state-sanctioned violence, including a pile of bodies in a burned-out house with a little girl who reaches out to him and calls him “shushu” (which I think is a reference to something that actually happens in Qi Ye); killing that official dude and making Jing’an drink poison, from Ep 1; inserting the Seven Nails into Bi Changfeng - a whole bunch of bad shit that WKX has dug back up way more successfully with a few words than that grave he was trying to dig with his broken sword. ZZS sighs mournfully and unfairly beautifully (your FACE, my dude) over the fact that he thought he found his soulmate, but he was apparently WRONG, and meanwhile, we see Han Ying lurking worriedly and devotedly in the background.

Then, both of these morose motherfuckers proceed to drink themselves (even more) stupid over each other, WKX in a brothel and ZZS moping by himself downstairs at the (No Longer) Getting Lucky Inn, leaving poor Han Ying and A-Xiang to eventually deal with them. ZZS is literally falling over as he calls for more wine – you are a sloppy drunk, laopo, although I have to admit, you’ve worked your way through a lot of bottles, so I suppose it’s understandable – and WKX proceeds to drink his four ... five? ... four, I think, girls under the table and clearly has no intention of sleeping with them, because it might interfere with his waxing drunkenly and mournfully about finding a thing you thought you’d lost forever but not being able to keep it at the price of giving up your big revenge murder plan you’ve been working out since you were 8 years old. (Also because he’s gay af. I’m just sayin’.)

So, yeah, Han Ying and A-Xiang eventually have to deal with these two, and for my money, the single most important scene of the ep - thematically, at least - is the one we get between A-Xiang and WKX, where a couple of big things are going on. One of the themes I see again, running through this ep, is the separation between the human world and the world of “ghosts,” and how that line is policed, and how Wen Kexing tries to maintain it as a bright line, in order to maintain his own distance from Zhou Zishu and the world. Now that things have gone so spectacularly wrong with ZZS, he’s going to dig in on the “ghost” side of that line for all he’s worth – much harder than he was digging that grave for the Four Sages of Anji, given he breaks the sword and gives up halfway through on that one, but this one he’s determined to get all the way to the bedrock on. So yes, in this scene we get the theme made explicit again, of human-ghost separation - which will echo and rebound throughout the rest of the show, until we see its awful, gory truth made manifest when it turns out WKX is horrifically correct and A-Xiang is NOT, in fact, going to be allowed by “humankind” to leave Ghost Valley and walk up to the human world with her lover, while meanwhile, if WKX is going to get out of the valley, he’s not staying in the mortal world but is going to end up on the icy remote mountaintop. BUT ALSO, this may be the first time we really see the show put A-Xiang forward as a proxy for Wen Kexing. This is going to be an increasingly weighted Thing as we go on, of course, but what I didn’t remember on my first watch-through - even after I realized what they were doing with the A-Xiang/Cao Weining and Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishu parallels further down the road – is that, in this first time we really see it, it’s not even about their respective love interests, it’s about their respective relationships with Chengling. I mean, clearly, clearly, when WKX is being a drunk asshole to A-Xiang about how she’s been too long in her human skin (and huh, interesting that, when we also have instances where fake skin disguises are literal), and DON’T EVER FORGET WHO YOU ARE, HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND GHOST VALLEY MASTER HEARTLESS AMETHYST FIEND, and who among them would ever pity you me you, he’s really talking about his recent breakup with ZZS, in which he got called a crazed psychopath just for setting up a few amusing revenge murders. But here’s the thing – what triggers the diatribe is A-Xiang saying she feels sorry for Chengling trapped in Yueyang Sect, in the course of nattering on about what’s up with Chengling, and what she and Chengling have been doing together, and how much Chengling misses WKX. Which is, A-Xiang tells WKX, a lot. After which WKX puffs himself up and proceeds to be a drunk asshole to her, because of course, he’s not worthy of having anyone care about him, they might think he’s human, or something, and then he’s only going to get hurt again when they find out he’s NOT. So, all that happens. We also find out in this conversation that Changing Ghost was responsible for the pile of heads; that A-Xiang was at the Funeral/Wedding Game and saw Deng Kuan become the last survivor and get set free in much better condition than he later showed up at Yueyang Sect, so what the hell’s happened to him in between; and that A-Xiang definitely thinks her Murder Dad master is crazy but isn’t afraid that he’ll end up killing her someday. I mean, let’s be clear, I don’t think she’s absolutely positive that he won’t go crazy and kill her – she’s just not afraid of it. Zhou Ye is fantastic here, because she has A-Xiang give WKX this gorgeous little smile that’s so simple yet just so filled with love and trust and faith and everything that must have kept his heart alive all those years, the one that she probably gave him even after he burned her mouth on congee that was too hot, and I end up clutching my chest because I think she’s killed me. And then in a horrible twist on what’s eventually coming down the pike, she tells him that she’d follow him even if he’s crazy, and that if he killed her, she’d even follow him in death, and GOD. MY HEART. Because we’re going to see that in fact, he’s going to almost follow her into death, and then he’s going to dream of her leaving him instead of actually staying with him after death, and the only thing keeping me together at this point is the idea that Nian’xiang will actually be A-Xiang reincarnated so that she can be with WKX and the rest of her family again.

Anyway, all of this is apparently a dress rehearsal for WKX, because he then gets himself dolled up in some luscious green robes and proceeds to go to Tragicomic Ghost’s mansion in order to terrorize the troops and spread the misery. He requests a report from all of his top ten nine eight devils; credits them with three Funeral Games (I guess we don’t get to see the other two), annihilating Danyang Sect, destroying Mirror Lake Sect, killing Mount Tai Sect’s leader (Ao Laizi), and leaving a pile of heads for Yueyang Sect to find. He’s doing his best Lunatic Wen bit, but come on, my friend, do they really deserve credit for ALL of that? Do they really? It sounds like you have your suspicions, as well, because you want to know who was responsible for the Mirror Lake massacre. Everyone looks around, pointedly not meeting his eyes, so, hmm, it must have been Long-Tongued Ghost, right? Right? (Who we last saw getting killed and getting his (Danyang) Glazed Armor took by Wen Kexing while pretending to be Hanged Ghost.) Changing Ghost, who’s supposedly Long-Tongued Ghost’s superior and who’s smart enough to sense the wind shifting, even if he’s not sure in which direction, hastily says that LTGhost doesn’t listen to him anymore. (Yeah, because he’s dead.) At this point, White Grim Reaper is dumb enough to draw attention to himself, and WKX chokes him out just ‘cause. ‘Cause he’s Lunatic Wen, and fuck you, that’s why. Both Tragicomic Ghost and Beauty Ghost look more Completely Done With This Bullshit than scared – in contrast to the men, who are shitting their pants - which is an early indication that their relationships with WKX are different than his relationships with the male Devils. WKX also makes some pointed comment about how oh dear, he’s killed someone, and they were already low on manpower, but as a chief of GHOSTS, that’s all he has to work with, isn’t that RIGHT, Changing Ghost – which sounds on the surface kind of like policing that line between ghosts and humans, but really seems more like he has his suspicions about exactly who Changing Ghost is actually working with, because while he may not be as smart as A-Xu, he’s not DUMB. Now, let’s all come up with a plan to fuck over the Five Lakes Alliance during the Hero’s Conference. Aaaaand … end scene (and ep).

Meanwhile, Han Ying is dealing with his poor, drunk dumbass charge, and we see ZZS wake up in some richly appointed rooms, in some strange bed, and he’s clearly thinking “Oh snap. What I do last night?” Also, feeling the hangover. Once he manages to get his boots on, he notices a shrine, complete with candles, and just about this point, Han Ying busts in like he’s WKX or something (although to be fair, it is his bedroom), and wants to know exactly wtf is wrong with ZZS, getting blackout drunk with his actual face hanging out like he doesn’t care who recognizes him? (I just have to take a moment here, and point out that ZZS, who went all in, in the last ep, and who will continue to be the more open one as this relationship goes on, is being berated here for not wearing a mask, for showing his real self, while the issue for both A-Xiang and WKX is going to continue to be keeping on a protective mask/skin, even though WKX accuses A-Xiang himself in this very ep of thinking the mask is real and not just a cover for her true face. Anyway.) Oh, and also, My Lord, how is your injury? DO YOU NEED SOMEONE TO TENDERLY CARE FOR YOU? I like this scene, because Han Ying’s actually kind of angry at ZZS, and a little bit, he shows it, and we get to see that he’s not spineless, even in the (blindingly beautiful) face of ZZS, he’s just devoted. And if that means keeping this dumbass safe from himself, well, Han Ying will try to do that, too, even if it’s enough to drive him to find religion, as we also find out in this scene, explaining the shrine. I suppose he needs all the help he can get. Anyway, ZZS tells him that he’s too mean to die just yet, although he doesn’t expect any blessings on his path, and Han Ying responds – and I think this is important, given ZZS’s decision last ep to spend the rest of his life living instead of dying – that “any day we live is a day gained.” (HAN YING. MY BELOVED.) ZZS pulls some Glazed Armor out of his robes to give to Han Ying, and they both realize that it looks exactly like two pieces Han Ying already has his hands on, gdi WKX. At this point, ZZS reiterates that he just wants Han Ying to lay low and stay safe, Han Ying reiterates his undying devotion, and ZZS has clearly had it with these kids and their starry-eyed devotion. He tries telling Han Yng again to just live a good life - as if Han Ying is at all wired that way – before making some dramatic pronouncement about expecting to have to deal with what’s coming to him in hell and sweeping out the door in the last we see of him this ep.

Let’s see, other things that happened:

Gao Chong, Zhao Jing and Shen Shen confer over their complete loss of face in the run-up to the Hero’s Conference; Shen Shen gets very offended and denies killing Ao Laizi, which is the rumor going around town; Gao Chong says the Ghost Valley isn’t responsible for Ao Laizi’s death (which they are) or for spreading the rhyme about the Glazed Armor (which they are); Zhao Jing says Five Lakes Alliance can’t get a reputation for forcing other sects to do things (when he can manipulate them into doing what he wants), and Shen Shen wants to know WHY THE HELL NOT (oh, Shen Shen) when the jianghu has always been, and I QUOTE, “a place where the strong pery on the weak,” so again, I have to kind of side with WKX on this one about the hive of scum and villainy. Or I would if you guys seemed capable of actually accomplishing anything.

Elsewhere in Yueyang Sect, it’s been Bullying Hour again for Chengling, and A-Xiang is furious when she finds out, threatening to break the legs of whoever’s responsible for smacking him around (she really is like the most delightful Chengxian love-child, I have to say). She also has some Wolong Nuts – crispy and delicious! – for him. Gao Xiaolian shows up with some treats, but Chengling doesn’t want her food, and also he doesn’t want to marry her, because he doesn’t want to be Gao Chong’s puppet, which is kind of new, because he said a couple of eps ago at the Five Lakes monument that he would abide by Gao Chong’s decisions. I guess now that he’s found out from A-Xiang that their Murder Dads are still around, he thinks there’s still a chance to run away with them. Gao Xiolian runs away, crying. Harsh, Chengling, but it does give him the chance to complain to A-Xiang that he’s effectively under house arrest, WHERE ARE OUR MURDER DADS TO SAVE ME?

Last but not least, there’s this incredible scene with Yu Loser Qiufeng, leader of Mount Hua Sect, in which one of the Mount Hua Virgins (tm WKX) comes complaining that everyone is looking down on them. Yu Qiufeng tells him that the entire jianghu is falling apart and to suck it up, and then another Virgin (tm WKX) shows up to say that some people from Mount Tai Sect are here to talk about Dead Ao Laizi, because the Five Lakes Alliance killed him omg. Yu Quifeng’s response is literally “Tell them I’m not here,” and when the disciple wants to know how he can possibly say that, Qiufeng’s response is literally “Say I went out. Say I’m sick. Say I’m dead.” (OMG, Zongzhu can’t see you right now, he’s dead!)

[simplybakugou]

Quirkless

↝ An appointment to the doctor’s goes south once finding out Bakugou’s son is quirkless.

⋆ PAIRING: dad!bakugou x female!reader ⋆ WARNINGS/TAGS: swearing; angst ⋆ WORD COUNT: 3279

A/N: So I started rewatching bnha from the beginning and after watching baby Izuku cry when he found out he’s quirkless for the hundredth time, I decided to do a scenario of Bakugou’s reaction to his child being quirkless. This is also literally took two hours to write for some reason so enjoy lol. NOTE: I made a part 2 to this where Deku gives One For All to Bakugou’s son so here’s the link to that too :)

✐posted 04.07.2020✐

“Katsuo, you’re going to hurt yourself!” You called out to your four-year-old son as he ran through the streets. You could barely keep up with him in such a big crowd, only seeing his blonde head pop up every now and then.

Katsuo giggled, finally stopping and letting his mother catch up with him. Once you did catch up, Katsuo latched onto your arm. “Don’t worry, Momma, I’m fine.”

You sighed. “You know, most kids aren’t this excited to go to the doctor’s.”

“Well, I’m not like most kids because my Daddy’s the best hero in the whole world.” Katsuo puffed out his chest proudly. You chuckled, ruffling his head.

Being married to one of the top heroes wasn’t easy. You had met Bakugou at the hospital as your healing type quirk was used to help aid patients. After Bakugou had gotten reckless once, it seemed that no one around him at the time gave him a proper talk to make sure he wouldn’t get hurt that severely again. Back then, everyone was always kissing up to him, wanting to be affiliated with such a high profile hero.

Nevertheless, you didn’t hesitate to rip him a new one, infuriated that such an important hero would be so reckless and gotten so hurt. Bakugou was taken aback, not expecting a mere hospital worker to be the one to tell him off. However, since that incident he respected you for being the only one to be honest with him.

Since then, Bakugou found himself visiting your office even for the smallest of injuries. After the tenth visit, you finally caught the hint and decided to ask him out yourself. And now, you’re both happily married and have a four-year-old son.

You walked into the pediatrician’s office, signing in at the front receptionist before taking a seat, waiting for the doctor to call your name.

“Do you think the doctor will give me a quirk?” Katsuo asked, looking up at you with his eyes almost beaming and shining.

“No, the doctor can’t give you a quirk but we can find out when your quirk will come,” you said, pinching his cheek.

Katsuo sighed, leaning into you. “Okay… I just want to be strong like Daddy.”

You feigned a gasp. “You don’t want to be strong like Mommy?”

Katsuo’s eyes went wide, immediately regretting his words once believing his mother was genuinely upset. “No! Mommy you’re strong, too! I just think it’s a little itty bit cooler to have explosions than heal people.”

You laughed. “It’s okay, sweetie. I know Daddy’s quirk is cooler.” Katsuo smiled at you, latching onto your arm.

“Bakugou Katsuo?” A voice called out.

Katsuo jumped down from his chair, raising his hand. “That’s me!”

The doctor nodded. “Come with me.”

You and Katsuo followed the doctor into a separate room. You shook the doctor’s hand. “I understand that you’re here for the regular screening, Bakugou-san?”

You nodded. “Yes.”

The doctor nodded once more, instructing Katsuo to complete the regular eye exam, weight and height check, hearing exam, and any vaccinations that are needed.

“Are there any problems or any other concerns that you want addressed?” The doctor asked, writing down on his clipboard.

“Actually I have one concern,” you said. “Katsuo’s four now, almost five and he still hasn’t developed his quirk yet. Most of his classmates have already shown signs of developing a quirk. I was hoping you would be able to determine exactly when his quirk would come.”

“Hm, that is a concern especially for the son of one of the biggest heroes and the most notorious doctor in the area. Let me conduct a few x-rays and we’ll have a look,” the doctor said.

***

“Are we almost done?” Katsuo whined, wiggling his feet from his chair.

“We’re almost done. The doctor’s just looking at the x-rays he took.”

Katsuo sighed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Fine, Nagisa and Ichigo wanted to play with me soon.”

You smiled. “You can play with your friends soon, don’t worry.” The door to the room opened, the doctor stepping in. He had a blank expression on his face. “Were you able to find anything out?”

“There’s no easy way to break this to you.” The doctor took off his glasses, wiping the sweat from his forehead. He pulled a chart, an x-ray of Katsuo’s foot specifically. “Everyone with a quirk has one joint in their pinky toe. Those who are deemed quirkless have two joints.”

You looked at the x-ray, your eyes widening. “So that means…”

“You’re son is quirkless, Bakugou-san. There’s no easy way to say it.” The doctor put away the chart. “Hopefully this won’t upset your husband too bad.” He walked out of the room and the sound of the door closing echoed throughout the room.

You looked down next to you, your heart aching at the sight of Katsuo sitting in shock and staring at the space in front of him. You got up, crouching down in front of him. “Let’s go home, Suo.”

Katsuo nodded but his body still didn’t move. You pursed your lips together, deciding to hold him in your arms instead. The car ride home was outstandingly quiet.

***

“Great work today everyone!” The manager of Bakugou’s agency announced. Everyone in the office begun packing their things up, including Bakugou as he shoved his hero costume into his bag.

Kaminari threw his arm around Bakugou’s shoulder. “Hey, Kacchan!”

“I’ve told you numerous times that if you call me that I’ll fucking kill you,” Bakugou grunted, zipping the bag up.

“Oh, come on, this is like the twentieth time and you still haven’t done anything!” Kaminari waved him off. Bakugou rolled his eyes at him, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “I came here to ask if you wanted to get dinner. Kirishima and Sero might swing by, too.”

“I’d rather go to my house and see my wife and kid than hang with you dumbasses,” Bakugou said, proceeding to walk outside.

Kaminari’s jaw dropped, genuinely offended. “Well, you still hang out with us, you jerk!”

Bakugou’s phone buzzed in his pocket as he threw his bag in the trun of his cark. He answered the call. “What is it?”

“Have you seen the news?” Kirishima asked.

“No, I just finished my patrol.”

“Well, apparently a bunch of news outlets are saying that Katsuo’s quirkless,” Kirishima said.

Bakugou scoffed. “When the fuck did I ever listen to those bullshit reporters. It’s probably another stupid fucking magazine wanting their two seconds of fame.”

“I know it’s probably nothing, but I thought I’d let you know.”

“Thanks anyways.” And like that, Bakugou made his way home.

***

You were pacing back and forth in the kitchen. You didn’t know what to do. Bakugou had mentioned numerous times how he couldn’t wait to find out his son’s quirk, saying how badass it’d be if he had a combination of your quirks. And even though he had obviously changed so much since he was a child, there was still a time in his life where he viewed those who were quirkless as inferior and weak. Not to mention that bastard of a doctor had released information to numerous news outlets about Katsuo’s quirklessness. You had already contacted your lawyer when Jirou had told you about it, furious that a doctor would break confidentiality just to get some money.

Letting out a big breath, you made your way upstairs, stopping in front of Katsuo’s room. You inhaled and exhaled once, knocking on his door. You weren’t surprised when you didn’t receive an answer, pushing the door open. The room was empty, but you could hear the TV from your bedroom. You opened the door slowly to find your son on the foot of your bed. “Katsuo? Are you okay, sweetie?”

Katsuo’s eyes were ingrained on the TV screen, barely even blinking. You looked at the screen which showed your local news station covering a story of Bakugou stopping a villain during his patrol.

The reporters were praising him. “You know, Ground Zero is probably, dare I say, one of the best heroes to have existed.”

The other reporter nodded. “You’re right. That’s why it’s interesting with all the rumors of his only son being quirkless—“

You turned the TV off, placing the remote onto your nightstand. Crouching in front of Katsuo, you placed a hand on his cheek.

“Mommy?” Katsuo asked in the smallest voice.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Why couldn’t I be strong like Daddy?”

You felt your heart shatter into pieces. You mustered up at smile, caressing his cheek. “You are strong. Katsuo, you’re--”

“But I don’t have a quirk.” Katsuo looked down at his hands. “Everyone keeps saying how strong I’ll be because of Daddy’s quirk but… but I don’t have one.”

You felt a tear drop onto your hand. “Suo…”

“I just… I just wanted to make Daddy proud! I want to be the best and be the strongest but now I’m the weakest!” Katsuo sobbed, rubbing his eyes. “And now, everyone will make fun of Daddy for having a weak kid like me!”

You felt tears streaming down your own face, hugging your son the tightest you have ever held him. “No one will think that, Katsuo! You’re not weak just because you’re quirkless!”

Katsuo stayed quiet, silently sobbing into your shoulder. You caressed his head. “Why don’t you play with Ichigo and Nagisa to make you feel better?”

Before Katsuo could say anything, you both heard the front door open and close, indicating that Bakugou had come home. “No… I wanna go to my room.”

“Okay,” you muttered, setting him down. You watched as he quietly went to his room, closing the door.

“Y/N?” Bakugou called out from downstairs.

“Coming!” You called out, quickly wiping away your tears and rubbing your eyes.

Bakugou set his bag on the sofa, taking his shoes off as well. He turned around, going towards you as you made your way down the stairs. He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you closer to him. “I missed you,” he murmured.

You smiled against him. “I missed you, too.”

He pulled away from you, looking behind you and frowning. “Where’s Suo?” On any other given day, Katsuo would come running down and tackle his father. But that’s on any other day.

“He’s… not feeling well,” you lied.

“Not feeling well?” Bakugou asked. He sat down on the sofa, stretching his legs out on the coffee table. His arms were aching from overworking his quirk, not to mention his gauntlets still hurt every time he used them.

“I told the doctor, he just needs some rest,” you continued to lie, noticing his discomfort in the process. “Do you want me to get you some ice?”

Bakugou shook his head, leaning forward and grabbing your hand. He led you to his lap, his arm around your hips. “It’s fine, I’ll live.” He turned the TV on, the same news channel on the screen as before.

The same news reporters continued to show footage of Bakugou. Bakugou smirked. “Look at your husband kick ass out there. Do you realize how lucky you are?”

You let out a small laugh, kissing him on the cheek. “I know. I have the best husband in the world.”

Bakugou narrowed his brows together in confusion. “The hell? You usually give me shit whenever I’m cocky.”

You nuzzled your head into the curve of his neck. “It’s nothing. I just realized how lucky I am.” Bakugou sighed, leaning his head on yours as he continued watching.

“So as we had mentioned before, today’s top story is one that was discovered just earlier this evening,” the reporter said to the camera. “Ground Zero is now as everyone knows as being one of the strongest but also a powerhouse of a hero. After his marriage to Y/N, notorious for saving countless people with her quirk, they had a son. There have been speculations from a pediatrician that Ground Zero’s son, despite having parents with strong quirks, is quirkless.”

“Tch, this fucking bullshit again,” Bakugou groaned. “These fuckers need to learn to stop spewing such bullshit. And on a fucking news channel, too.”

You felt your hands ball up into fists, feeling guilty for not just keeping the news of Katsuo being quirkless from your husband, but you also somehow felt responsible for his quirklessness. “Katsuki…”

“Hm?” He looked down at you, noticing how rigid you were. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s not bullshit…” you trailed off. “The news reporters. It’s not bullshit.”

Bakugou let you finish your sentence. There’s no way…

“Katsuo… he’s quirkless…” You didn’t realize you were crying again, trying hard not to, but you kept hearing how broken your son was earlier replay in your head.

“Why’re you crying?” Bakugou asked in the softest tone you’ve ever heard him speak in. He turned your body so that you were facing him. “Were you scared to tell me?”

You sniffled. “It’s just that Suo was so upset about it an-and I don’t know how to make him feel better, Katsuki.”

Bakugou brought his thumbs up to your face, wiping away the tears. “I’ll talk to him. Just wait here.”

You nodded as Bakugou gently moved you beside him. He made his way upstairs, stopping at Katsuo’s door. He opened it, squinting at how dark it was. He reached over, flipping the light switch on. Katsuo was curled up under his covers, the sound of little sniffles coming through. Bakugou sat down at the foot of his bed, lightly pulling at the covers to see his son. “Leave me alone, Mommy!”

“Suo, it’s me.” Katsuo’s eyes widened, looking up at his father.

“Daddy…” he whispered. “I wanna be alone.”

“Well I wanna be here and ‘cause I’m older I’m in charge.” Bakugou lifted him up, setting him down beside him. “Mommy told me you went to the doctor and they told you that you’re quirkless.” Katsuo flinched at how straightforward his father was but it wasn’t surprising at the same time. Bakugou knew it wouldn’t help anyone if he had beat around the bush.

“Yeah, I’m quirkless and I’m useless.”

“Who said being quirkless means you’re useless?” Bakugou asked.

Katsuo’s lip quivered. He was trying to keeps his tears inside, not wanting to cry in front of his father who was known for being stone cold. In fact, he only shows emotion, except for rage, in front of Katsuo and you. Regardless, Katsuo had this image that his father wouldn’t want to see him cry.

And yet, Bakugou recognized this. He maneuvered Katsuo up onto his lap and Katsuo still hung his head low to avoid eye contact. “You can cry, Katsuo, there’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I can’t cry!” Katsuo exclaimed, surprising Bakugou. “I’m already weak because of not having a stupid quirk but I can’t be even weaker by crying like a baby!”

Bakugou sighed. He wasn’t completely surprised by his behavior. It was ingrained into Bakugou since he was a kid from his own mother to not let others take care of him, it being a sign of his weakness. He had to deal with his own problems alone, blaming other people for being nosy or worthless for not being able to catch up with him. But the minute he became a father, he refused to let his child endure the mental battles he had to face everyday.

Bakugou brought his son into his arms, hugging him. Katsuo was taken aback, not because his father never hugs him, but because he was always told by his friends how hardcore and badass his father was. His friends would make fun of any boy who would cry, even as young children. This made Katsuo refrain from doing so as well.

“You’re not weak, Katsuo. And whatever little shit friend told you so is just a little shit,” Bakugou said, remembering the shitty kids who followed him around when he was a kid. “There’s nothing wrong with crying and there’s nothing wrong with being quirkless.”

Katsuo gasped, his lip quivering intensifying. “But I don’t have a quirk, Daddy! You’re so strong and so cool and you can make all these explosions! And Mommy, too! She’s… Everyone knows her for saving people with her quirk! But I have nothing; I’m useless!”

“You’re not useless.” Bakugou didn’t hesitate to say this. “Having a quirk doesn’t determine your strength. You can still be strong without a quirk.”

“But I can’t be a hero like you!”

Bakugou pulled away, looking down at his son. From looks alone, he was a carbon copy of Bakugou from the ash blonde hair to the crimson eyes. But he was different at the same time. He had your gentleness, your ability to care for others without even thinking anything of it.

“Being a hero isn’t having a flashy quirk. A hero is someone who helps others without asking for anything in return. All it takes is will and wanting to help others. A quirk just makes that easier.” Katsuo looked up at his dad in awe. Bakugou smiled, putting a hand on his head. “If anything, we heroes are cheating by using our quirks to make life easier for us. I can’t even fucking remember the last time I got fixed up regularly by a normal doctor when I have Mommy around.”

Bakugou was able to get a laugh out of Katsuo. “You’re gonna be way better than us heroes. You’re gonna have to learn how to live in this shitty world without any shortcuts. But you know what?”

“What, Daddy?” Katsuo asked quietly.

“You’re also gonna be stronger, ‘cause you don’t need a quirk to help you around.”

Katsuo smiled, wiping his tears away. “Can I still be a hero? Can I really?”

“Of course, who the fuck is gonna say no?” Bakugou asked jokingly. “You know, I went to school with a shithead and he was quirkless, too. And he told everyone how he was gonna be a great hero. It seemed crazy at first but now he’s probably even stronger than I am.”

Katsuo’s widened. “No way! Really?!”

Bakugou nodded. “Mhm. I still can’t stand him to this day, but I’m not stupid enough to still believe he isn’t a hero.”

Katsuo grinned, tackling his dad for a hug. “Thank you, Daddy. This is why you’re the best hero in the whole universe!”

“Universe? That’s a little much, kid, even for me,” Bakugou joked, earning a giggle from Katsuo. “Before you go to bed, go say good night to Mommy.”

“Okay!” Katsuo jumped down, running down the stairs so fast the sudden noise scared you.

You were agonizing over the outcome of all of this, having no idea how to make your son feel better. “Suo?”

Katsuo walked up to you, hugging you. “Don’t be sad, Mommy. Mommy was sad ‘cause I was sad. But now I’m happy so Mommy has to be happy, too!”

You were confused at how quickly Katsuo was able to act so differently once Bakugou spoke with him. Katsuo pulled away, kissing your cheek. “I’m going to sleep!”

“Okay…” You were still so confused.

Bakugou made his way downstairs, ruffling Katsuo’s hair as he ran back upstairs. He sat down next to you, putting his arm around you. You looked at him with disbelief. “What did you say?”

“The truth.” Bakugou turned the TV back on. “He doesn’t need the help of our quirks to be whatever the fuck he wants to be.”

You smiled, hugging your husband. “You really are a hero, Katsuki.”

Bakugou smirked. “Damn right. And that kid’s gonna be an even better hero than me.”

[llendrinall]

What would Harry and Draco be like if they were parents? How would your take on it be from their child/ren's birth to adulthood?

Sorry if my English doesn't sound right.

Well, on the one hand I don’t think either of them would want to have children. Or rather, neither wants to be a parent. Harry knows too well what a bad childhood does to you and I imagine he would be terrified at the prospect of something happening to Draco and him and leaving his child an orphan. Sure, Ron and Hermione would take that hypothetical kid, but what if something happened to them too? And to the rest of the Weasleys? And Luna? And Neville? What would happen to the kid them? James and Lily gave Harry a godfather and it didn’t stop Harry from growing up in an abusive home. So Harry would be super anxious about that, imagining more and more elaborate scenarios in which anyone remotely capable of raising a kid without giving them life-long trauma would be unavailable, and Harry’s kid would end up in hard and uncaring hands, just like Harry and Neville.

(And I’m sure Neville doesn’t help on that respect when he says he won’t be having kids and if he has any, he wants them to have their mother surname. No Longbottom will have a claim to them).

Draco knows his parenting role models are awful. He was extremely spoiled while also suffering immense pressure. Draco got all the candy and gifts he ever wanted, but he was also expected to excel at school, be a powerful wizard and become a Death Eater. It’s not that he doesn’t have a frame of reference, it’s that the one he has is really, really, bad. How do you go not giving your child a mix of anxiety and self-absorption? He would sure like to know.

On the other hand, I’m sure that Harry will adopt anyone who stands still long enough. He is not one to let pain make him hard and cold. Rather, his suffering made him more compassionate.

So he and Draco would eventually adopt a kid (or two or three). Although they might also get an accidental biological magical child too. Let’s give the kid a name, just to make writing easier. Say, Celeste. Celeste the most likely adopted, but still possibly biological magical child.

Celeste would be happy and loved. Probably an only-child for a long time, because both Harry and Draco would still be scared at the notion of parenthood. Celeste would learn quickly to entertain themselves and relate to adults better than to other children.

Harry would stress about Celeste’s wellbeing and having them be self-reliable. Draco would insist on letting the child express themselves and find their own interests. There would be a lot of mistakes and doubts, but overall they would do fine.

Celeste would grow up under the assumption that candy exists only as a Weasley family tradition. Like, candy is something that the Weasleys do but no other household has it. Celeste has certainly never seen a candy treat that didn’t come from Weasley hands.

It’s because Draco has this weird crusade against treats. He got so many as a child! It’s a wonder Draco didn’t develop an eating disorder. There were many other aspects where Draco was spoiled silly, but since he wants Celeste to have a broom and learn to fly young, and also play an instrument and what’s the word? A game-boy, Celeste ought to play muggle games too, Draco is focusing on treats and candy which are completely banned at their household. The Weasleys just ignore the prohibition. It evens out. Celeste has some candy, but not as much as they would otherwise get.

I love the idea of Celeste developing magic (especially if they are some sort of magical biological child, because people would see them as Potter 3.0 Malfoy edition) receiving the Hogwarts letter, going to Diagon Alley to buy a wand, everything, all the little traditions and rituals, and once they arrive to Hogwarts… they don’t like it. Beautiful magical place, yes, but it’s still a boarding school. Putting aside that everyone, from teachers to students, looks at them weird because of who Celeste’s parents are, Celeste misses home, isn’t making friends because it takes them a while to open up and overall is having a bad time.

So Harry and Draco take Celeste back home. No questions. Their child wrote saying they didn’t like it there, so Harry and Draco removed their child from that situation immediately. There is no reason they can’t apparate every day for lessons and even if there were, even if there were all kind of obstacles… Their child wrote asking for help and harry and Draco want to do better.

They take Celeste home, where Celeste has all their stuff, is happy and can see Oso. (Oso is the family dog. A huge mastiff so called after a picture in a children’s book. The picture was of a bear, but to be honest Oso does look like a bear to any well informed three-year old).

Of course Hogwarts doesn’t agree with the new arrangement. Harry reminds them that on Halloween of his first year they had a troll roaming inside and things only got worse after that. Harry is told that most of those unfortunate events where a consequence of Voldemort. Nowadays Hogwarts is perfectly safe and perhaps Harry is letting his anxieties take undue hold of him.

“What about the student bullying?” Harry says, with heroic calm. He would rather set the desk on fire.

“What about it? There are centaurs in the forest, but no bulls, I assure you, and as you well known, Mr Potter, students are prohibited from wandering the forest. I do think you are seeing threats where there are none”.

Ah, of course. The wizarding world isn’t familiar with the concept of “bullying”. The application and execution, they know it well, but they don’t’ have a word for what is considered normal conduct.

Celeste attends the rest of the year as if it were a normal school, which is widely criticized although there are also many other parents interested.

And then… The academic year ends and Celeste drops out of Hogwarts. The whole wizarding world comes to a stop, although one should specify that in this case “the whole wizarding world” means “English wizarding society”. The continent doesn’t care if a child attends school or not. Welsh and Scotland care, but not enough to come to a halt. They do discuss it, but they go on with their business. It’s the English wizards who seem to have a problem with it. From September to December the papers write about nothing else.

The things is, Celeste has acquired some of Harry’s anxieties and is concerned with how little they were learning at Hogwarts. A lot of magic, yes, but nothing on language (and Celeste loves reading and learning languages) and even less about math. Not that Celeste likes math, but they worry about not knowing how to adequately manage the family fortune when their parents are gone. You know how wealth does not last three generations? Well, it certainly won’t if Celeste doesn’t learn how to balance expenses. Celeste wants to learn enough that they won’t be vulnerable to their solicitor., and when they put it that way even his gransfather has to admit there is a point.

(And maybe Harry failed Celeste here, letting his child worry so much about becoming an orphan, but Harry routinely receives dead threats and Draco has suffered two attempts on his life, so).

Harry couldn’t be more proud. No benevolent-looking wizard will take advantage of Celeste. Draco is also very happy because Celeste’s muggle school has art lessons in the curriculum and they have Drama as an extra-curricular. Celeste doesn’t want to sign to Theatre, but the mere fact it’s there pleases Draco immensely.

The ministry makes Celeste sits the OWLs in order to keep their wand. There are parents asking about educations alternatives, so the Ministry hopes that once Celeste fails people will accept Hogwarts as it comes, none of that day-school nonsense and hiring qualified teachers.

Except muggle school prepares you really well for the study process (or maybe, it simply prepares you better than magical schools do) so Celeste excels at the written exams. They do really, really, well, which is something Hermione Granger had been predicting for the last four years but nobody listened to her, so she is even more chuffed than Harry and Draco. Hermione has won sixteen different bets and is going to bring parliamentary reform to the education system.

Celeste’s spell work could see some improvement, but they have no trouble conjuring a corporeal patronus and that still qualifies as an automatic O in DADA. With that and some luck in Transfigurations, Celeste graduates Hogwarts having only attended a year. Lucius Malfoy, who is still racist but above all is a social creature and social climber, gives a week-long ball to celebrate his grandchild academic achievement. He also gifts Celeste a summer trip around Europe. Correction, because Lucius knows both Harry and Draco, but specially Draco, are very strict with gifts, he makes a donation to Celeste’s school language club. Did Lucius pay so thirty-odd muggle teenagers can spend three weeks around Europe practicing their foreign languages? Why, he sure did. And you won’t disappoint said children, will you Draco? I will take the money back if you ask me to, but little Prisha will be crushed.

There is a Prisha in Celeste’s school. Lucius is either weirdly stalkerish or paying attention to Celeste.

So maybe Celeste has inherited some anxieties and complexes, like many children do, but Lucius has become a better person and a pretty cool grandfather, so overall I think Harry and Draco are good parents.

[toosicktoocare]

No one asked for this, but I can’t watch that latest 911 episode and NOT write for it. 

Spoilers for 911 Season 3 Episode 15 (AKA, the “we are going to fuck up Eddie, and you are going to cry” episode).

It’s been three days since Eddie almost died, and the water inhalation, the cold rain, and the newly-formed nightmares interrupting his sleep are beginning to take a toll on his body despite receiving a clean bill of health from the hospital he had been transported to. 

He wakes on the fourth day gasping and choking after physically pulling himself from a nightmare where he was trapped underwater and couldn’t break through the mud that was pressing in toward him. He presses a shaking hand to his bare, heaving chest, small coughs wheezing past his lips, and it takes a solid four minutes until the rapid patter of his heartbeat slows to a steady rhythm. 

He taps his phone screen, frowning at the far-too-early time. He still has three hours until he needs to wake up, but the mere thought of going back to sleep to those dreams sends a chill down his spine. 

He slips out of bed instead, shuffling quietly to the living room, arms crossed as the cool air seemingly assaults his bare skin. He slumps down on the couch, pulling a blanket that’s folded on the back of the couch around his shoulders, and he snags the remote, muting the TV as it turns on. 

He flips through a few channels, finally stopping on an infomercial for a new vacuum since of all the infomercials playing at 3 a.m., the vacuum seems the most interesting, but he only lasts seven minutes until his eyelids grow too heavy to stay open. 

*****

Nodding off without his phone beside him was certainly not planned, and though he feels as if he’s only been asleep for minutes, it’s far too bright when he gives in to Christopher’s near-constant patting at his knee. 

“I’m up, bud,” he mutters, yawning wide and loud. “What time is it?” 

For a few seconds, Christoper is silent, and Eddie’s eyes slip shut once more until Christopher mutters “7:23.” 

“Shit!” He flies off the couch, head reeling at the sudden movement, and he swallows back a few coughs as he starts toward his room, Christopher following slowly behind. 

“You said a swear word. I’m gonna tell Buck.”

“I know,” Eddie says, frowning as he digs through his dresser for a clean shirt. “I’m sorry, but maybe we can keep this from Buck, huh?” He grabs a navy blue, long-sleeve shirt he doesn’t recognize and slips it over his head before he starts looking for pants. “Keep it our little secret?”

“Maybe,” Christopher says with a shrug, and Eddie can only hope that “maybe” means Christopher will forget by the time they make it out the door.

“Have you brushed your teeth?” He asks, whipping a quick gaze back toward Christopher. “Do you need help getting dressed?”

“We haven’t had breakfast,” Christopher reminds him, cocking his head slightly to the side, and Eddie sighs and turns away to cough a few times into his shoulder. 

“Breakfast on the run today? We can get donuts.” He snags a pair of jeans and starts pulling them on as he stumbles to the bathroom. 

“Donuts!”

Eddie pokes his head out of the bathroom, toothbrush hanging from his mouth. “Only if you hustle those muscles.” He nods toward Christoper’s room, and Christopher squeals through a laugh as he starts his way back to his own room.

Somehow, he and Christopher make it out the door six minutes later, and Eddie’s about to race toward the closest donut shop, only hesitating when Christopher reminds him of Buck. 

“You said you were driving him to work today.”

“I did,” Eddie sighs, briefly pinching the bridge of his nose to try and squeeze away this growing headache, but then his phone chimes off and, of course, it’s Buck asking where he is, so he blinks a few times, rubbing at his eyes, before he slips his truck into drive and starts toward Buck’s. 

*****

Despite making it in the typical ten minutes, he’s still fifteen minutes later than he usually is, and Buck’s frowning when he opens the passenger door. 

“Took you long... Is that my shirt?”

“What?” Eddie glances down, frown curling at his lips as Buck hops into the truck, dropping his bag at his feet. 

“That’s definitely my shirt.” 

“Hi, Buck!”

Buck whips around to chat with Christopher, smile wide enough to blind, but all Eddie can focus on, for the moment, is the shirt. He tugs at it, confusion playing across his face. 

“Anyway, Buck draws out, still smiling, as he turns back to the front. “You’re late.” 

“I overslept,” Eddie grumbles as he puts his truck back into drive. 

“First you steal my shirt, and now you’re stealing my excuses?” Buck asks, head tilting slightly to the left. 

“And he said a swear word in front of me today!”

“You did what?” Buck shouts, playing up the over-dramatics, at the same time Eddie yells “Christopher!” 

“He said s,h,i,t,” Christopher spells out, and Eddie grips the steering wheel a little harder when Buck gapes at him. 

“No one is getting donuts if you both don’t stop ganging up on me,” Eddie spits out, and the loud screams that follow has him cracking a smile as he navigates to the nearest donut shop.

*****

“Are you okay?” Buck asks, voice considerably softer, when Eddie pulls into a parking spot at the station, and Eddie sighs for the umpteenth time that morning alone, shoulders sagging slightly. 

He drags a tired gaze to meet Buck’s worried eyes. “Yeah,” he lies, cocking his head to the side, “why?”

“Oversleeping,” Buck starts, “cursing in front of Christopher, and, no offense, but your normally perfectly golden tan skin is looking a little washed out.” His lips curl into a half-smile when Eddie’s face falls flat. 

“And your normally chiseled jawline is about to meet my fist,” Eddie spits out, opening his door and slipping from his truck. 

Buck’s quick to follow, snagging his bag and hopping out of the truck quickly to catch up with Eddie, who’s already grabbed his bag from the backseat and walked away from the truck. 

“Seriously, Eddie!” Buck calls out, jogging toward Eddie until they’re falling into step. “You don’t look well.” 

“I’m fine--”

“--and you’ve been through a lot this week--”

Shaking his head, Eddie stops and spins toward Buck, ignoring the slight sway in his vision from the quick movement. “Buck,” he presses, tugging on Buck’s arm until Buck’s turning to face him, “I’m fine.”

Buck’s eyes narrow as if trying to physically read through the lines, and his face is still pinched in concern, but he eventually nods slowly. “If you’re sure?” 

“I’m sure.”

*****

While Eddie knew that he wasn’t actually as “fine” as he insisted he was, if his headache and occasional coughing was anything to go by, he didn’t expect his legs to give out in the locker room after returning from their third call. 

He falls onto the bench with a low thud, eyes blurring, face burning despite his muscles trembling. His head is throbbing, a hammer knocking repeatedly at his temples, and his lungs are tight with a need to cough, something he’s been swallowing back more and more as they day’s progressed. 

He’s not surprised when Buck walks in after him just seconds later, still calling out to Hen over his shoulder, but his words trickle off toward a softer, hesitant tone that’s laced with concern. 

“Eddie?”

Eddie can’t seem to get himself to sit upright. The fatigue coating his bones has him hunched forward, elbows braced against his knees and face dropped into his cupped hands. 

“Um, Eddie?” Buck repeats, padding quietly across the room until he’s standing over Eddie, frown painted across his lips. “What’s wrong? Did you get hurt on that last call?

Eddie shakes his head slowly, the small movement alone bringing forth more pain to his head, and he keeps his face tucked against his palms. 

Buck’s mind flicks through possible scenarios, pausing on one that has the blood draining from his face. 

“Is it Christopher?” 

“No, Eddie mutters. He desperately wants to curl up on the floor, press his hot cheek to the cold tile.

“Then, what’s wrong?” Buck asks, dropping to the bench beside Eddie. He reaches out toward Eddie, cupping his hand over the back of Eddie’s neck, but the second he feels the alarming heat, he jerks his hand back, slips off the bench, and drops to a crouch in front of Eddie. 

“Hey, Eddie,” he starts, voice quick, as he tugs on Eddie’s wrists lightly. “Can you look at me?”

Eddie’s slow to oblige, his muscles moving as if fighting against the same, thick, wet mud he was trapped in. He lifts his head, and Buck sucks in a sharp gasp and presses the back of his hand to his forehead. 

“Shit,” he mutters, standing upright, “you’re burning up.” He glances toward the door. “I’m getting Bobby,” and Eddie can’t find it in him to argue, not as Buck runs out of the room, and not even when Buck comes back with Bobby, Hen, and Chimney hot on his heels. 

He can only cough harshly over and over into the crook of his arm when the others crowd around him, with Buck dropping back onto the bench beside him and Bobby crouching in front of him. 

Bobby’s quick to smooth a palm over his forehead when his coughing finally tampers off, and he whistles low, concern coloring his eyes. 

“That’s a hell of a fever you’re sporting, Eddie.”

Nodding, Eddie tilts to the right until his head’s dropping against Buck’s shoulder, and Buck’s quick to wrap a steady arm around his waist. 

“I’m not surprised after the well,” Bobby adds. “You’ve gone through quite a bit this week.” 

“You probably inhaled a lot of water,” Hen starts, frowning, arms crossed. “We should make sure this doesn’t develop into pneumonia.” She looks to Bobby, and the two share a silent conversation before he steps aside to let Hen assess Eddie. She counts his pulse, gauges his fever by touch alone. 

“I think you should be okay with a week or so of rest.” 

That clicks in Eddie’s head-- the first thing since everyone walked in. He shoots up to his feet, swaying, hand coming to his forehead. “A week?” he spits out, leaning a little too heavily against Buck when Buck stands up beside him and places a steady hand to the small of his back. 

“That seems a bit excessive.”

“It’s really not,” Chimney says. “You should probably stay out longer, but we know how you are.”

“How I am?” Eddie parrots back, brows furrowed, and his frown deepens when Hen and Chimney both call him reckless with worried smiles. 

“You know,” Chimney adds, “that whole hero act that’s got you in this situation in the first place.” 

“I saved a kid,” Eddie fires back, chest suddenly burning as hot as his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” Buck nods, “but you cut the line--”

“--you would have done the same!” The shout has Eddie doubling over into a coughing fit, and Bobby calls everyone to order as Buck eases Eddie back down onto the bench. 

“That’s enough. Hen, go call in two support members who can come in for the next week.”

“Two?”

“Buck’s going to make sure this doesn’t turn into something worse,” Bobby says, eyes finding Buck’s, and Buck nods quickly, silent understanding.

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Eddie mutters, and Buck leans more toward him, hand gentle at his back. 

“Don’t fight this, Eddie. We’re all just worried about you.”

It takes a few minutes, but Eddie finally concedes, knowing he’s facing a losing battle, and feeling utterly drained after his small outburst. He waits as Buck gets instructions from Hen and Chimney: what signs to look for, how much liquids, how often he should get a reading on the fever.

And, Eddie’s hesitant to hand over his truck keys when Buck insists he’s not well enough to drive, but then fever chills start to slip up his spine, and Buck drapes his jacket over his shoulders. He gives in then, reluctantly dropping the keys into Buck’s outstretched palm, and trying to ignore the excited smile that briefly pulls at Buck’s lips. 

He’s frustrated when he finds he can’t walk on his own to his truck, and Buck can feel the quiet tension and tries his best to pierce it with light comments that Eddie can’t focus on around the pounding in his head. The second he’s settled into the passenger seat, with Buck’s jacket tucked over him, he drops his head against the window and drifts off almost immediately. 

*****

He comes to when, in his dream, he loses his last breath against dark, thick water, jolting awake with a strangled shout that falls away to a coughing fit. He clutches at his neck, coughing over and over, but then a glass of water is being pressed into his other hand, and he sucks it down, ignoring the voice beside him telling him to go easy. 

The water helps. His coughing tampers off, and he blinks past tears pricking at his eyes to see that he’s in his bedroom, and it’s dark. 

“What the hell,” he rasps out, eyes dragging across his room until they fall on Buck, who’s perched on the edge of the bed, normally bright blue eyes clouded with concern. 

“Yeah,” Buck spits out, “what the hell-- how long have you been having nightmares?”

“I’m not,” Eddie tries, but Buck doesn’t back down. 

“You woke up screaming.”

Eddie hands Buck the glass of water and sinks back against his pillows, one arm draping over his eyes. “Since then,” he sighs.

“When?”

“You know when.”

Face falling, Buck sets the glass of water on the bedside table and drops one hand to Eddie’s thigh. 

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Because I shouldn’t be having nightmares,” Eddie mutters around a few coughs. “I saved the kid.”

“You also almost died too.”

The words hit him in a weird way, like a bucket of ice water being slowly poured over him. “Thanks for reminding me,” he says flatly, and Buck sighs, thumb tracing mindless circles on Eddie’s thigh. 

“You know what I mean. I think what happened to you warrants nightmares. You think I didn’t have my fair share of nightmares after my leg? After the tsunami? It’s normal to have them after a traumatic experience.” 

“What are you,” Eddie mutters, lifting his arm and arching one brow, “a psychologist now?”

“Oh thank God,” Buck draws out, getting to his feet, “I thought I was going to have to keep up the act for the entire week.”

Eddie cracks a smile, a few small laughs slipping past his lips, but then his groggy mind catches up to his headache, and he groans, massaging his temples. 

“Where’s my kid?”

“The living room,” Buck says, walking into Eddie’s bathroom to snag the medicine he bought earlier per Hen’s instructions. “Playing Mario Kart.” 

Frowning, Eddie rolls his head to the side to see Buck. “Did you pick him up from school?”

“Yep. I told him you’re busy being a hero and fighting off a really bad monster right now, so we will have to be extra quiet for a while so you can focus.” 

Eddie drags his gaze back to the ceiling, chest bursting with a warmth that’s different from the stifling heat of his fever. “Did you feed him?” he asks, smile creeping at his lips. 

“Yep.” 

“Something other than takeout pizza?”

“I cooked fettuccine,” Buck says, smiling, an air of pride surrounding him as he hands Eddie two pills and helps him sit back up. “And he told me I cook way better than you, which basically translates to ‘Buck, you are superior.’”

Eddie almost chokes on the water he sips at to swallow the medicine, and he coughs lightly around the glass, both brows arching. 

“Oh, is that so?”

Buck nods, taking the glass back from Eddie. “Yeah, sorry, man. I don’t make the rules.” He helps Eddie back against the pillows and pulls his blanket back to his chin when Eddie starts shivering. 

“You know I’ve got you, right?” he asks quietly, hand brushing against Eddie’s forehead, and Eddie smiles lazily, sleep pulling at him, beckoning to him. 

“I know.”

[themilky-way]

as the hours pass {loki odinson}

gif credit: littlemisssyreid

pairing: loki odinson x fem!reader (might be considered gender neutral, though)

summary: he afraid of what he feels, so he does the only the thing he knows how to do: lie. based on this ask.

warnings: super shitty angst lol cuz it was 9 pm and my brain cells were FRIED. i think that’s it?? fluff at the end tho so we good 

author’s note: this took me a whole mf week to write which isn’t that bad but i have no time now and it’s kinda scary. yolo tho lol 

----------

when tony had initially proposed a weekly movie night for the entire team, not a single person would’ve imagined anything like this. a large projector had taken the place of the regular flatscreen television, consequently lining up in all the four corners of the penthouse windows. couches and reclining chairs compiled in a large circle instead of being adequately spread out amongst the common room, and they’d all been filled by at least one avenger. to those wishing to participate, jobs and duties had been assigned the week prior, the list ranging from making popcorn to dimming the lights. it was organized-sophisticated, in a way-how it had all been brought about, and to say the majority of the residents living in tony’s multi billionaire penthouse were surprised was quite the understatement. 

over the course of a few weeks, everything began falling into place. reminders didn’t need to be set anymore, and the designated tasks weren’t viewed as chores. natasha made sure to pop three full bags of delicious kernels- ensuring thor’s bowl had just enough butter to lick his fingers clean when he finished-while steve arranged a variety of pillows and blankets around the seating space. soon enough, fading shades of purple would ignite the obscurity of the living room-all due to the led lights binded to the borders of its ceiling-and either a horror or comedy film would commence. 

in such a manner, your spot could always be found on the same peculiar couch, next to the same peculiar individual. god, at that. to literally go to hell and back, to get placed in a home that wasn’t his home with people who wanted his head wasn’t particularly an easy life to lead. he wasn’t a man of sentiment, either, nor one who engaged in communal activities, so you took your part as a good samaritan and kept him company. the seat next to loki had been unreserved, with not even thor to take its place, and you shuffled away from a very frightened wanda to settle beside him. he'd been neutral, annoyed perhaps. if a stranger came to sit next to you out of the blue, wouldn’t you be, too? 

“mind if i sit here?” a mild pause signaled a response, and the shrug of his shoulders gave it away. “i’m not really enjoying the movie, and the space looked kinda cozy,” you added. 

after you had thoroughly felt the soft cushion of the seat and all its comfort, it was rather difficult to stray away from it. every friday evening, the striped bedding of the couch awaited your presence, and a pillow of an identical design lay by the armrest. loki always got there first, a bowl of ice containing two ice cream bars in his grasp, and if the belief that he had ever been remotely inconsiderate damaged your reasoning, the chocolate chip cookie he gifted you at the start of every night proved you wrong. 

if loki truly had to be honest with himself-his father, if he was peering down from above-the companionship you bestowed upon him didn’t upset him as he presumed it would. he half-expected his cold and antisocial nature to speak for itself, to grab hold of the kindness of your heart, crush it, and scatter its pieces so your blind hands would have to search aimlessly for them. for him, the opportunity would’ve been so effortless, so relieving in its own wicked sense, but you had already known that from the minute the tips of your sock-clad toes had walked right up to his. your words had been honey to him, simple yet profoundly eloquent that had dripped away every vowel on his tongue. the warmth that encircled you caromed over to him, and then his icy fingers became regular fingers, and his wintry complexion no longer overpowered the person he strived to be.

the thought alone of developing a kinship alarmed the presumably mischievous man, and when time, the most rewarding elements of his beloved universe, presented him with such a miraculous creature, he went into a comatose. the object of his interest was no longer an object, it was a person, an individual that appeared to envelop his nonexistent grace as if they depended on it. so his beautiful, virulent mind, as plentiful of wisdom as it was, conceived what it regarded to be the only correct answer. 

the seconds of long anticipated hours grew legs, and urged fragments of minutes to run off. solitude embraced the area loki used to adore being in, and his absence planted a seed of confusion within the person always seated beside him. the following nights were mindless for you, even when wanda had selected your favorite films to view, your headspace drifting off to the god who wasn’t watching it with you. interactions between your team lessened. refusing a handful of thor’s popcorn became a habit, and although he questioned you about it, he never brought it up again. then, a month flew by before you could cognitively process it. loki’s eyes hardly ever witnessed daylight now, or you for that matter. more often than not, his ear perked up at the soft squeaks of sneakers before their shadow halted in front of his door. the air in his lungs would almost escape from him entirely, lips pursed so tightly he felt them turn white, before mere seconds later distorted voices trailed your feet away from the barrier that separated him from you. foolish, he’d been foolish to deceive you so childishly. what could he possibly tell you now, that wouldn’t lead you to scurry away from him?

tonight, the best remedy to get some rest was to fix some tea. a good read seemed suitable enough, too, so a copy of The Scarlet Letter decorated your pillow. you trusted your weary legs to navigate you to the kitchen while your brain busied in forming unrealistic scenarios, as silly as it sounds, and you were doing fine and dandy until a conversation reeled you back in. an all too familiar voice-one you hadn’t heard in so long-was speaking, ranting, about things that bothered him? yeah, that was it. 

it was wrong to what you did at that moment, your dear mother had taught you better than this, but the never ending words spewing from loki’s mouth had glued the soles of your feet to the chilling tiles. 

a heartbeat shriveled to nothing, a weighty ache engulfing it in all its mighty glory, and everything you ever came to know became deception. “...ridiculous! i’ll tell you one thing, brother, and that is that they’re absurd for thinking i’m better.”

a booming retort-thor’s-defended you. “you’re ridiculous. they’re good to you and you’re going to throw it away because you’re afraid?” he neatly placed his mug on the counter before his firm hand landed on his brother’s shoulder and squeezed in reassurance. “if you keep pushing people away, you’ll outlive centuries-worth of joy.” loki flicked it away. “do they truly matter to you? enough for you to stop hurting them?”

the wall pressing into your shoulder obscured the visual of loki nodding his head. the tea you craved for now sounded disgusting, and no matter how hard you blinked your eyes, a puddle threatened to hover over them. you began toying with the sleeves of your sweater, hating the emerald shade you chose for it, and your head drooped down to focus on its marbled designs. odd shapes helped center your emotions, too much that you missed a figure passing by the entry. 

did you jump? yes. did loki jump? also yes. 

“what-why are you-why are you standing there?” his voice was shaky, concerned. he looked at your figure over once, his nervous glare lingering a little too closely at the pigment of your shirt, before he focused on you. it was hard for him to miss your anguish. the question his brother had previously asked him looped in his head, and by odin yes-yes, you mattered to him. 

“did you hear what i said?” he gulped. “all of it?”

your pupils were fully dilated, mouth inconceivably dry, so you muttered a tiny “yeah.”

“it’s alright, though. i’m not-i’m not mad, or sad, or whatever. i get it.” with enough strength, you pushed your body away from where you’d been cornered and started your leave. a tightening on your wrist stopped you. 

“please don’t go.” loki never begged, and he always trusted his ego to prevent him from doing it, but he’d inflicted grief on his most treasured midgardian, and he’d have to remedy that. “please.” 

“loki, hey it’s alright. i’ll leave you alone if that’s what you need.” he held you tighter before pulling your palm up to meet his chest. “what are you-look, i’m sorry-”

“you’re sorry?” he cut you off. “i’m sorry, don’t you see what you do to me?” the pad of one of his own hands moved to cover the back of yours to push it further onto his covered heart. it was beating faster than godly possible. if he were anyone else, maybe he was nearing a heart attack. “i do believe you’re the first one to do that.”

you ceased touching him before beginning to speak, but he knew your apologies, your questions, before they even escaped your lips. he fumbled on his words for some time, thorough confessions of his feelings never came as easily as he hoped, but he managed to get the point across. his obsidian, curly locks drizzling over his tiresome face distracted you, and his enticing features, his slurred attempts to achieve your forgiveness forced a tiny grin onto your mouth.

“it’s okay, honey,” you extended a hand outward in greeting. “let’s just start over, yeah?”

he choked on a breath at the name, and then two clammy hands melded into one, and everything was alright for once. “i’m loki, and the pleasure’s all mine, darling.”

[angelsswirl]

Petrichor

Four

Notes: The story's not over yet....

Content Warning⚠️: mild smut

...

"You loved what you loved because you loved it."

It's been weeks. Weeks of you falling deeper and deeper into this mess you somehow forced yourself into.

Weeks of getting to know Rosé. Weeks of getting to know Jisoo. Weeks of getting to know Lia, for that matter.

Weeks of being sucked into a cycle of never-ending uncertainty.

And sure you knew plenty about them at this point. The little stuff, the medium stuff, but maybe not the big stuff.

If someone had asked you weeks ago if you had wanted to be in a serious relationship, mated to an alpha for the foreseeable future, you would have told them 'No. Absolutely not. I'm not ready.' But now, that's changed. And you're not exactly sure why.

In addition to suddenly wanting to be someone's omega, your heats had magically increased, in frequency and intensity. They were somehow bulldozing their way through your normal dosage of suppressants.

It was why you currently found yourself in the waiting room of your doctor's office.

Though, as you waited to be called back by the nurse, that was not the pertinent thought weighing down on you. Instead, it was 'Did Jisoo or Rosé want a serious relationship with you as well? Did they want you to be their mate?'

The million-dollar question.

You had no real way of knowing. It definitely seemed like it on both their parts, but outright asking was out of the question.

Jisoo had a daughter, a daughter who will inevitably one day realize that you look nothing like her. She'll long for the care of her biological mother, and then Jisoo will leave you so their family is complete.

A logical conclusion.

Rosé has an ex, an ex that, granted, you're not supposed to know about (Yeri is very talkative when drunk), but an ex nonetheless. It's only fair that Rosé realizes that she has unfinished business with said ex while you're pregnant with her pups, and leaves you for the ex.

Another logical conclusion.

And where does all of that leave you?

Alone.

The nurse calling your name lightly soothed you out of your musing, saving you from answering your own question with even more ugly scenarios.

"Y/N L/N? You can go on back." The nurse, an omega herself, smiled reassuringly as she gestured for you to follow her.

She lead you to an examination room after weighing you in the hallway. After a few preliminary questions that you had to answer every time you visited, the nurse left you to wait.

Seven minutes later there's a knock on the door and a creaking of the hinges.

Dr. Ramona Davis, another omega woman, smiled softly as she flipped through your mildly thin file.

Despite you being a patient at this particular practice since you started having heats, you had never really had any serious isssues.

It wasn't uncommon for an Omega Specialist to be an alpha, but they probably saw way less patients. It made more sense for an omega to be seeing a doctor who would understand what they were going through on a medical and a personal level.

Dr. Davis placed the file on the counter in the room before squirting some hand sanitizer on, rubbing it in, then shaking your hand.

"Hello Y/N, what brings you in today? I haven't had to see you in a year." The concern on the woman's fair features was genuine. You took great appreciation in that. You hated Doctor's offices and the almost motherly nature of the omega doctor assuaged your anxiety greatly.

"Um, yeah. Recently, my heats have been coming way more frequently than normal and they're very intense. My suppressants are barely putting a dent in them."

"Oh, that is concerning. You rarely come to me for heat problems." The doctor's eyebrows furrowed.

Dr. Davis did a quick check of your breathing, then ears and nose.

The omega doctor sat back on her rolling stool with a sigh, "Are your heat symptoms normal? Anything really out of the ordinary?"

A blush settled over your cheeks. You thought for a second, other than being more intense you didn't think that your symptoms have been out of the ordinary really, "I don't think so. The normal overheating, bones aching so bad I can't move, loss of appetite, and really bad night terrors, but I think that has more to do with the fact that this is my first year living by myself in the center of New York City. Yeah, all of that but dialed up by, like, 10." You mused, you shrugged your shoulders in the end as if to say 'Y'know, the usual.'

Ramona stared at you blankly for a solid three minutes before speaking again, "Y/N. None of that is normal. I have half a mind to call your mom and tell her what you just told me. The only thing stopping me is doctor-patient confidentiality."

You pouted, your mother didn't need to know any of this. She was dealing with her own things. It's the very reason you hadn't mentioned this to either of your parents. Also, you hadn't really known that anything was wrong. You really just came here to get a higher dosage of suppressants.

Dr. Davis rubbed a hand down her face, "How long have your heats been like this?"

"Since I started having them, but they didn't get really bad until like six weeks ago give or take."

Ramona nodded, "You said this was the first time you're living fully by yourself. How long has it been since you lived with an alpha?"

"Uh, not since being home with my dad. I'm 24 and I moved out at 18, so, six years ago." You frowned. You desperately needed to find out where the professional was going with this. 

Ramona thought for a second. She had a hunch, of what part of the problem was. She can't really do anything about the "normal" heat symptoms but she does have a cure that should dial back the frequency and intensity, she just had a sneaking suspicion that you would absolutely hate it. Because if you didn't hate the idea, then the problem would be fixed already.

But first, a couple more questions, "When was the last time you were knotted?"

"Like three years ago?"

Dr. Davis surmises that you must have impeccable self-control and she's not sure if that's a good thing or not.

"Okay, last question before I let you in on my thought process. Have you been in close proximity to any unmated alphas lately? Like not just standing behind one in a line or sitting next to one in class, I mean actually spending time with any."

"Yeah...two." You were starting to pick up the pieces, and no, you did not like where this is going.

"Ah, the final piece of the puzzle," Ramona wrote some notes down on your file, "Alright. So here's what I think is going on, you haven't been in the presence of an alpha for at least three years.  And all of a sudden you're surrounded by two. Probably encountering many more pheromones than you had in the past three years combined.  It doesn't help that those alphas are readily available and your omega is very aware of this. Your heats are out of wack because, one, it sounds like you've just been chugging through them like nothing is wrong, not taking a knot or anything even remotely useful, and two, because of these new alphas. It's almost like your teasing your omega and she's fighting back. Triggering random and intense heats to trick you into mating with one of them."

You stared back at her absolutely horrified, "I'm trying to kill myself?"

"That's not what I said."

"That's what it sounded like. Anyway, how do I get it to stop? I'm sure you know this isn't very fun."

"I can imagine. There's really one way that can help..."

"Stop stalling, Doc."

"You're going to have to take one of their knots. I know, I know. Stop looking at me like that. It's the only way. Once you do that, your omega will calm down and you can go back to your life. Look, it doesn't even have to be one of theirs. You're going to do that and I'm going to write you a prescription for some muscle relaxers but your suppressants are staying the same."

You looked like you wanted to puke at the thought of doing that with anyone else other than Jisoo or Rosé.

"Okay, it has to be one of theirs."

You still looked a bit apprehensive. 

Ramona sighed, it looked like she was going to have to pretend to be her wife today. Her wife was a psychologist who worked down the hall.

"What's got you so hesitant, Y/N?"

You sighed and your shoulders slumped, "I don't want to have to choose between them. I like them both. A lot."

"Who said you have to choose? You might eventually when you're ready to mate, but for now, you don't have to worry about that."

"What if I am ready to mate?" You mumbled.

"Then yeah, you might have a problem on your hands."

You threw your hands up in the air exasperated, "I don't even know if they would even want to have sex with me."

Ramona rolled her eyes at that, "Okay, here's what you're going to do. I'm going to sit here, and you're going call both of them and ask." 

You began to protest, "Ah. No. You're going to do it. I can tell you've been putting this off and it's starting to nag at you. You're a 24-year-old unmated omega. There is absolutely no reason you should be doubting your sex appeal."

"Fine," You grumbled. Your hands shook as you picked up your phone and tapped on your recents. They were both coincidently the last people you had talked to. Rosé being the latest, as you were confirming plans for later that day.

Rosé answered on the second ring, "Hey, Babe. What's up?"

You blushed at the pet name, you sighed before deciding to just rip it off like a bandaid, "Do you want to have sex with me?"

There's a clattering and then a curse on the other end. A second later Rosé started speaking again, "I'm sorry, I dropped my phone. Yes. The answer is yes." You hung up without another word. A heavy blush encompassing your harsh scowl at Ramona.

It seemed like Jisoo answered the phone before you even pressed the call button, "Kim Crematorium. You kill 'em, we grill 'em. How may I help you?"

"How many times do I have to tell you that's not funny?"

"...Until I believe you."

"Anyway. Do you want to have sex with me?"

It sounded like Jisoo started to hyperventilate.

"I very do a lot."

"What?"

"Yes. The answer is yes."

You hung up and glared at the doctor, "Happy?"

"Are you?" 

You had never felt a boost of confidence such as the verbal reassurance of alphas being sexually attracted to you, but Ramona didn't need to know that.

"So, now you know they want to. The next step is to do it." Dr. Davis patted you on the shoulder reassuringly. 

You nodded resolutely. The next step is to do it. 

Dr. Davis handed you the prescription for the muscle relaxers and ushered you out the door.

~•~

You arrived at Rosé's penthouse with a renewed sense of determination.

You were let into the fancy apartment building and then into the penthouse fairly easily. You assumed Rosé had prepared whoever needed to be prepared for your arrival.

Rosé, over lunch one day, had finally let slip her actual job description. You had only shrugged more or less. You weren't stupid. You don't wear custom Armani suits and pay for your Starbucks with a black credit card without being the CEO of something.

Rosé seemed forever grateful you hadn't made a big deal about it.

As soon as you laid eyes on Rosé your core clenched. The alpha was only wearing a grey t-shirt and a pair of dark wash skinny jeans, and yet for some reason, you still got weak in the knees. 

Rosé greeted you with a peck on the cheek and a happy smile, "How was your day?"

You blinked, "Interesting. How was yours?"

"Boring at first. It's my first day off in months and I didn't know what to do with myself. Then I got an interesting phone call from an interesting person asking an interesting question. So I'd say my day was interesting as well."

Rosé led them deeper into the penthouse, which you later will realize is only the first floor.

"Yeah, sorry if I caught you off guard with that?" You looked down and blushed. A go to move of yours.

Rosé shrugged, "It's fine. I admired the forwardness...So, I was originally going to cook for you, but then at the very last second, I remembered I can't cook. But I can drink wine. And I'm very good at buying it too, so I figured we could have an impromptu wine tasting." Rosé gestured into her kitchen where a bunch of glasses filled with different pigments of wine had been set up.

"You just want to see me drunk." You tapped Rosé playfully on the arm.

"I'd be lying if I said I didn't have any ulterior motives."

You made it three glasses in before you practically jumped Rosé. In your defense, your mini-heat was still simmering under the surface.

Your lips smashed together in a desperate ruse for you to get closer to Rosé. Rosé's hands on your hips and your hands in her hair. You released your grip on the taller woman's hair, you reached down to your shirt. Gripping at the hem and yanking it overhead.

Rosé blinked slowly, "Are you sure?" She asked, even as your hands traveled to the belt buckle on her jeans. 

You captured Rosé's lips again in a quick, searing kiss, "What about any of this says unsure to you?"

That's all Rosé needs to continue.

It's not really evident how you two got into Rosé's room and subsequently her bed. Both of you had sort of partially blacked out.

Save for her underwear, Rosé was completely naked as she nipped at your neck. You mewled and whined, your hips rolling up into Rosé's thigh.

"You're so wet." Rosé practically growled into your ear. She can easily tell by the amount collecting on her thigh every time you bucked your hips.

"Alpha, need you inside of me."

Rosé is all too happy to oblige. She kicked off her boxers quickly, then leaned over toward her bedside table. She rummaged around in the drawer without looking. You were completely naked under her, her eyes were bit preoccupied.

It took about 20 more seconds for the alpha to locate what she had been looking for. 

"Safety first," Rosé exclaimed as she held up the condom. You rolled your eyes, a bit too far gone to care about safety at the moment. This all seemed like a waste of precious time to you.

It felt like ages before Rosé was finally inside of you. You couldn't help but clench just about as soon as she had entered.

The relief you felt was almost instantaneous. That feeling of finally being filled almost pushed you over the edge right then and there.

Rosé rocked her hips back lightly. Allowing you to adjust.

You did so quickly apparently. Your hips rocking up into Rosé once again.

"Chae, harder."

Rosé grunted and obliged. Her hips slamming into the you harder than before. You were about as tight as Rosé had imagined you would be, and that was serving to make this that much more difficult.

She'd be damned if she didn't even last ten minutes. How embarrassing would that be?

"Fuck." You moaned breathily. You felt like you were floating. The coil in your stomach tightening in time with the curling of your toes.

"You're so gorgeous." Rosé whispered into your shoulder. She nipped at the skin there, trying to abate her need to bite your mating gland.

You're not listening. You can feel Rosé's knot beginning to form, and your main goal is to get it inside of you. So, you relaxed as much as you could and wrapped your legs around Rosé's waist. Pulling her closer.

You both released almost identical moans.

"God, you're trying to kill me." Rosé grunted just as her knot popped into you.

It took just about all her willpower not to latch onto your neck.

Your back arched as you fell over the edge. Your breathy moans becoming a bit more high pitched.

Rosé groaned as she released into the condom.

As you both came down you began to giggle.

Rosé scowled, "What are you laughing at?"

"Oh, calm down. I'm laughing because I normally pride my self on having great self control. I demonstrated quite the opposite just then."

"Hey, we all need to let go every once in a while." Rosé shrugged and shifted you to a more comfortable position.

You gasped as you felt the knot tug a bit. You would be tied together for a bit longer.

You sighed happily, then snuggled closer into Rosé.

Within seconds, you're out like a light.

~•~

You woke to your phone vibrating precariously next to your head.

In the night, you and Rosé had since shifted. No longer tied. Your back was pressed into Rosé's front, with her arm slung across your waist.

You answered your phone without looking at caller id.

"Hello?"

"Hey. You weren't sleep were you?" You frowned at the tone of Jisoo's voice. She sounded exhausted and maybe even a little upset.

"No. Why? What's up?"

Jisoo huffed a bit before sighing, "Do you mind coming over here and watching Lia for a bit. She's not feeling well and I need to go pick up some medicine for her. I know it's late-"

"I'll be right over, Jisoo."

"Thanks."

It's surprisingly easy for you to slip out from under Rosé. Tiptoe out of the room, locate your clothes, then head out the apartment. All without waking her.

~•~

You're at Jisoo's in record time. You smoothed out your wrinkled shirt before knocking on the door lightly.

It doesn't occur to you that Jisoo is most definitely going to smell Rosé on you until Jisoo opens the door and looks at you like that.

Part sad, part angry, part prooven right?

Her jaw is clenched and she won't look you in the eyes. Instead she looked right past you into the hallway. You wanted to say something. Apologize maybe. Deal out excuses. You're not sure. Jisoo beat you to it anyway.

"...Thank you. I didn't want to bring her with me at risk of her getting sicker. And everyone else was busy. Or Asleep." Jisoo looked a bit resigned. Like she expected this and it was what it was.

She brushed passed you easily, then hurrried down to her car. She might punch her dashboard out of anger and jealousy, but it's the middle of the night. No one is there to confirm or deny that part.

You took a deep breath. You didn't like that look Jisoo gave you. It made you feel gross, guilty, and quite frankly, sick to your stomach.

You don't have time to wallow, because you can hear Lia whimpering through the baby monitor placed on the coffee table.

You walked into the toddler's room to find Lia balancing over the ledge of crib. Clearly in the middle of an escape.

"Hi, Li. Do you mind if I help you?"

Lia huffed before reaching for you. You scooped the child into your arms easily. Lia cuddled herself into your neck.

"Thank you for letting me help. You give the best hugs."

The toddler lifted her head from your shoulder, "Better than mama?"

You chuckled lightly, "Yes, better hugs than your mom."

Lia laid her head back as you walked back to the livingroom. You sat down on the sofa as you waited for Jisoo to get back.

"Don't feel good." Lia mumbled tiredly into your neck.

"I know you don't. That's why your mom went to go get some medicine for you. You know, I think you hit the mom jackpot with that one."

Lia shrugged and yawned. It's only about three seconds later that the toddler passes out.

You just continued to rub the girl's back.

~•~

Jisoo came back to see Lia passed out on your chest, and you passed out on the couch.

She begrudgingly took a pic of the admittedly adorable sight.

She eventually decided to post the picture to her Instagram. Jealousy only partially driving that decision.

Jisoo pocketed her phone and stood in the door way for a few more seconds. Lia looked very content to stay where she was, so Jisoo let her.

She sighed, "I'm working on it, kid. I just wish I knew what I was up against."

~•~

You woke up without the crick in your neck you thought you would. You soon realized it was because you were in a bed and not on the couch you had vaguely remembered falling asleep on.

You hobbled out of the bed. You peered into Lia's room to find her sleeping soundly in the crib.

You then padded into the living room next. The tv was on but it didn't seem obvious that it was being watched.

"Morning." You jumped clear out of your skin.

You turned around to the voice. Jisoo was standing at the kitchen island, sipping on a cup of coffee. Jisoo looked like she had gotten exactly zero hours of sleep that night. Her face was blank and she was wearing the same thing she had left in.

"Morning... How'd I get into your bed?"

"I carried you there. You looked uncomfortable." Jisoo's face remained blank. Her eyes pointed in the direction of the television.

"Where did you sleep?"

"I didn't."

"Chu."

"Thanks for watching Lia again." Jisoo's jaw clenched and her leg bounced on the linoleum, "I'll see you later."

You wrapped your arms around yourself. You nodded as you headed for the front door.

"Tell Lia I'll see her next week?"

Jisoo only hummed.

You took a shakey breath as you left the apartment. You left the building with arms still wrapped around yourself.

Somehow, this felt more like the walk of shame then leaving Rosé's had.

You pulled out your phone and dialed a familiar number.

"What's up?"

"Can we meet up, I really need to talk."

"Of course. You know where to meet me. Give me ten minutes."

You breathed a watery sigh of relief, "Thank you."

[t100ficrecsblog]

three thoughts about raven reyes (& 1 thought about Murven endgame)

ONE

I loved Raven Reyes from the millisecond she showed up on screen. I started watching from the very first episode of t100 but I got truly invested once she showed up and that has never changed. She’s so complicated but at the same time her motivations are simple to figure out if you consider her past and what it was like for her to grow up on the Ark. This might get me some shade but I don’t think a lot of fandom understands Raven at all, and that makes me sad (and also angry lbr). She’s one of the most forgiving characters on this show, she wears her heart on her sleeve and you never have to guess where you stand with her. Raven can be tremendously kind and understanding but she can also tear you down and make you feel small if she disagrees with your choices. I happen to think this is one of her strengths. She deserves so much happiness even though she thinks she doesn’t. It’s not even remotely a stretch to say that she may very well be my favorite character of all time. -JENN

A beautiful, iconic genius. I love how from her introduction, there’s no problem she can’t handle or won’t approach. She’s Raven Reyes and she’s a badass with an amazing mind. Yes, she faces challenges, as all these characters face, but she has such a tenacity when it comes to approaching them which I really love. I think it’s been so great to see this character, played by such a great actress, during the years of t100. -RYN

i find she’s often overlooked for how much representation she brings to the show. she’s not necessarily underrated, but just not appreciated enough for how much she can mean to people. raven reyes is a woman in stem, a woman of colour, and a woman with a disability. on top of that, she is so kickass and kind and funny and beautiful and strong - she isn’t reduced to tokenism, she is an integral part of the show. i love raven reyes and lindsey morgan for the comfort and inspiration they give so many people. -ELLE

TWO

Her strength is something that I think is both one of the most powerful and interesting parts of her character. Her season four arc really broke my heart, in the best way since I love pain, but I absolutely loved that she chose to live. That she fought back against every odd and said “screw that” and powered on. She does struggle, yes, she feels pain and experiences loss and everything else that all the characters face, which I think is important, to show that she isn’t unbreakable. She also confronts those struggles by continuing forward though, and doing what she can for herself and her people. -RYN

despite what canon says, i think that she has always been morally gray in her actions. she took extreme actions against grounders in season one. she wanted to turn murphy over to the grounders in season two. she was pretty complacent in the nightblood experiments in season four. she helped with the flame in season five. in season seven, she wants murphy and emori to keep up the prime act. she’s complex and contradictory and realistic and human. -ELLE

For Raven, family is everything and once she counts you as hers, she’s not letting go without a fight. She felt this way about Finn, which I hated at first, but I have come to appreciate their relationship more and respect her feelings for him as her family even after what he did. She’s willing to do anything for her family, including stay behind alone in space, facing likely death like when it meant getting Spacekru back to Earth safely. We see the devastation she takes on when she loses family and how it haunts her and also influences her actions. This outlook is still going strong in s7 when she fights to bring Echo back to herself and throws being a family in Bellamy’s face when she feels that he has betrayed them. I don’t think anything motivates Raven more than family. -JENN

THREE

Thinking about regrets I’ll have that we likely won’t see for Raven, I think it’s particularly traumatic that Finn, Sinclair and Abby all died right in front of her while she could do absolutely nothing about it. All three were her family and I think the helplessness & guilt that she felt regarding their deaths (and to an extent Monty & Harper too, based on what she says after learning of their deaths) really plays a big role on who she has become over the seasons. I wish canon took a deeper look into that but I do think Lindsey does a particularly good job at showing devastated emotions (sob) so at least I got that. I am truly turning myself into a pretzel to cross my entire body that Raven gets her happy ending, but I will add the caveat that it better make sense for her & not be some bs last-minute move that ruins her character either. -JENN

We love color symbolism!! I love Raven’s red jacket and the repeated red symbolism we get for her. Not just because, of course, it ties with Murphy’s symbolism as well (I see you red jacket patch, I see you), but also because I think it shows her character so well. I enjoyed it so much when they brought the jacket, or one like it, back this season, and think it shows how all the character arcs, but specifically hers, are circling back and connecting them to who they were in season one to who they are now. Hopefully, this circling will include satisfying conclusions for her and the others. -RYN

raven reyes is the only one who should be allowed to call murphy a cockroach. with anyone else, it bothers me, but with (the) raven, it’s fine. i think that’s just because of the development they’ve have. it was a title born out of hatred, but it has since evolved into an inside joke for the pair, and it’s even a bit of a mantra. i know a lot of people disliked the “go be a cockroach” line in season seven, but to me i think it was her way of saying (in a high stress situation) “i need you to survive, like you always do” á la season four’s “go. survive” and “that’s what cockroaches do, right?” lines. every cockroach needs a raven. -ELLE

what’s your ideal ending for Murven?

I feel like there’s two viewpoints I’m torn between - what I want to happen vs. what’s appropriate for the story. IMHO the ending for them that’s appropriate for the story is that they die together. It’s a huge part of their dynamic that canon has set up since early s2. If the show does it well, showing that Raven & Murphy actively choose not to leave each other or it’s a scenario where it’s inevitable and they sort of peacefully accept it and perhaps do something heroic at the end, then as sad as I’d be, I’d also probably love it and would completely accept it. And then I’d write reincarnation fic or something, LOL! But what I want to happen - oh well, in that case - I’d like them both to survive and have maybe a hint or two that the option of them being together is there. Personally I don’t need them to be romantic canon in the end if we can at least leave the ending up to interpretation but I would sell my soul for them to kiss onscreen at least once. I don’t care how or why just let me have it!! -jenn

a quiet life in sanctum. i think after all the danger and pain they’ve experienced, they deserve a nice peaceful life. my ideal would be them being together, living in a cute little cottage style house. raven would take over the machine shop, getting to tinker around all day. murphy would work at the bar/kitchen, getting to chat and joke around with people all day. they would come home and talk about their days or hang out with their friends, never without some playful teasing, and then they would fall asleep together - peaceful and happy. -elle

Okay, this is more than simply just sad, but my ideal goal is a final, important moment between them. I have been theorizing and predicting a possible Murphy death since really the season started, and I’m scared to admit I feel like it is heading there. So, while I think it’s gonna break my damn heart, I want Murphy to have a true hero’s death (if he does have to die which I am not down with or excited about but what I feel is indeed coming) and a final important moment with Raven, who I feel with pretty intense certainty will live and (hopefully) lead a very full and happy life. It’s not a perfect ending, or the ending I would’ve written for them, but this is where my ideal meets my acknowledgement of canon meets haha. -ryn

it was an absolute delight to interview these three Murven writers! you can find ryn @animmortalist on Tumblr, or here on AO3. you can find elle @hopskipawayon Tumblr, or here on AO3. you can find jenn @easilydistractedbyfanfic on Tumblr, or here on AO3. all three of them are working with @t100fic-for-blm, request a fic written by them there. <3

[lipstickbisous]

the rei brown series (2/3)

OUR LOVE REMAINS.

notes: here’s the second part!! one more after this haha. not much of a plot to these just meant to put you in your feels. butttttt, i did write this from the experience my mom had in the icu when she was a nurse.

this one is your p.o.v. and is a little bit longer but not much

i DID NOT KNOW if anyone would get offended by “latino” or “hispanic” so i used both im sorry.

LISTEN for better understanding.

also u guys REALLY LIKED the din fic so i guess...more of those?

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: while rethinking all of the choices you’ve made in your life, memories of a certain person begin to flood in.

warnings: MORE ANGST ahahaha, childhood nostalgia, fluff ending

word count: 3.3k (these are not long chapters)

masterlist

you weren’t sure what time it was (you knew it wasn’t too late) and you hadn’t bothered to check as you stumbled through your doorway, one arm holding grocery bags and the other, your purse and papers from work. your hair had been stuck in the ponytail you threw it up in since the morning, but now, it was pulling at your scalp and giving you a headache.

managing to balance on one foot, you flipped the light switch in your entryway and watched as the first floor of your house illuminated in the night. the tiny dog you’d adopted a few months ago came padding out on the wood floors from the dining room, his tongue stuck out with loud pants to relieve himself of the texas summer heat. 

with a small “hey, bub,” to your pet, you placed the groceries on the kitchen counter and slipped off your clogs, throwing them at the bottom of your stairs so that you could be reminded to take them to your room when you went upstairs. for now, you reached into the glass cabinet and grasped a dark bottle of wine. the label read a fancy word in french, but growing up in kingsville, you’d never bothered to learn the language of love. you grew up in that rich latino and hispanic culture. 

this house had memories threatening to let it crumble, you knew that, but even after your parents had moved into a smaller apartment due to medical reasons and the fact that they couldn’t afford the house, you couldn’t bring yourself to move out of this town and just ditch them there--now the house was in your name. you didn’t know why it was so hard to leave--you’d been able to leave for university, but when you came back the summer after you’d graduated, something stuck. now, it had been twenty years and you had made no attempts to even leave kingsville. 

you popped the cork of the wine bottle open and instantly met that musky historic smell of the red alcohol. you had seven wine glasses in your cupboards, but you never had any friends over. you might occasionally invite a few girls you knew in high school, but if you were to hang out with people, it would be at a bar on friday and saturday nights. you watched as the wine splashed around the glass and when it was filled to your satisfaction, you pushed the cork back into its place and left the bottle on the counter.

as you made your way into the living room and collapsed on the couch, the little dog you called yours jumped up onto the high furniture the best he could due to his tiny legs. you searched your couch for the remote, pulling over the cushions and pillows before finding it buried under the arm. you switched the tv on and and flipped through the channels before settling on fifty-one. your dog curled up next to your lap and closed his eyes to sleep.

you didn’t for what you were sure was the next two hours. the movie that had been playing before ended the beginning of a new one had started until you realized your glass was empty and dry and your eyelids were getting heavier. you leaned your head back before rethinking how the day had gone. you’d shown up to the hospital for work at the crack of dawn and spent the next twelve hours wheeling around patients, taking diagnostics, and carrying their dirty dishes.

it definitely had not been the job you imagined when you were ten. you’d played doctor with your stuffed animals and plushes before but in those scenarios, the patients had been obedient in kind. unfortunately, fate had not been so kind and, while sitting in front of the television with an empty wine glass in your hand, your fingers grazing over the sore spot on your wrist. it was sure to be bruised, the one on your calf had turned purple and yellow in the past few days. you hissed when you applied just a bit too much pressure.

i spent four years at a college i hated to have this. you’d put it all on the line to have this job. you thought that by being a nurse in the fucking icu, you’d be saving people everyday. instead, you were groped, spat out, and ignored by everyone there. you deserved a glass of wine every night.

you knew that this was not healthy at all and that you were intoxicating yourself with far too much alcohol but the way your back ached, your calf bruised, and your head pounded drowned out whatever warnings your brain sent you.

suddenly, you managed to catch sight of the atomic clock sitting on your kitchen counter. bright crimson letters read “1:30 am.”, and with a far too heavy sigh that awoke the small dog next to you, you set the glass on your coffee table (you’d grab it in the morning when you weren’t so sad) and flipped the tv off before sauntering up the stairs. even at your age, you had still been terrified of the dark--you could barely walk down to your basement without a flashlight and by yourself--but you found that you were perfectly fine walking in the pitch-black of your upstairs hallway. your dog was quick to follow behind you, jumping onto your bed and waiting for you as you emotionlessly entered your bathroom and looked at your reflection.

who the fuck were you? how much time had passed and yet here you were, in your fucking childhood home all alone? you’d found love with many men over the years, but you hadn’t expected them to last--and they hadn’t. what had you done? had you left some sort of imprint in the world at all? you were never one for kids, everyone you knew was well aware of that, but how were you supposed to live on even when you were dead? in reality, abandonment and loneliness was your worst fear along with--

oh god, you thought in a shriveled voice. you’re gonna be forgotten. 

one part that hurt the most was the news. you’d gotten better at keeping up to date with pop culture and politics, and the pablo escobar situation had you worried for one reason and one reason only--javier peña. you’d seen him on the news, the DEA agent who had made it his responsibility and top priority to catch the famous drug lord. it was nice to see that he had gotten somewhere while the only time you’d ever really traveled was to paris for a christmas and then LA to see an old friend who you didn’t even talk to anymore. 

this was your life now. mindlessly wandering around your house after work, eating microwaved leftovers and carry-out from the diner.

god, that diner. it had been one of your favorite locations in the shitty town you called home--had been. the first time you went, you were suspicious due to the fact that the actual building was a different restaurant owned by a criminal before it was a diner, but javier had practically begged you to have a late dinner with him after an afternoon spent skipping your last few periods and driving around the outskirts of town in his truck. the wind had been blowing through your hair and you hung your head out of his window, letting your arms wave around, and you could’ve sworn you had felt him looking at you. 

that was the moment you were in love with javier peña.

you knew that you had been lying to yourself up until that moment because since the first day you met javier when driving past their ranch and stopping to look at the horses, you’d been in love. you couldn’t even think about how many days were spent writing poetry about him that now seemed stupid and childish. you’d told yourself it was an outlet for your feelings, but you had really written it because you were too much of a bitch to come out and tell javi. maybe that hadn’t been your fault--you’d witnessed, first hand, javier rejecting a girl in sixth grade. you watched her nod and tell him “oh, that’s okay” but then run away into the bathrooms. javier had continued on to tell you about a new foal on their farm.

you remembered the horses. you missed them too. if it hadn’t been them roaming about in the pastures, or the great stallion that caught your attention while on that family car ride, you would’ve never met javier. you weren’t sure if he judged you for it or not, but every time chucho needed help around the farm, and javier was too much of a brat and a teenager to do it, you had gladly offered. so, chucho peña had put you in charge of the foals. there was one in particular, a small one with a white coat, that had piqued your interest. there was a day, one in the middle of the summer if you could remember correctly, where you and javi had just run out to the fields while the rest of the horses stayed in their stables. javi had been excited since his father had gifted him with a new camera, and he had spent all day taking pictures of--and to this day, you still didn’t notice it--only you. 

while brushing your teeth, carefully placing a small dot of paste on your toothbrush, you began to scrub in small circles. how long had it been since you and javi had last talked? even then, it had barely been a conversation. a simple exchanged of very few words, a goodbye that went misheard, and that was it. when you had called his home phone the next morning, instead of javi replying like he always did, it had been chucho’s voice instead, muffling an annoyed “hello?” but when he heard the exhaustion and lightness of your voice, he carefully explained that javi had already left.

you hadn’t felt heartbroken--not at first. in fact, there was barely any sadness in that tired head and upset stomach. you were infuriated. how could he? how dare he? he had been such a coward that he couldn’t even say goodbye and it angered you more than you thought it ever would--not that you had ever thought about javier leaving before because he said he wouldn’t even consider it. and now, he had left you alone your fucked up hometown that you’d always told him you hated so much. then, about three days alone without javier (which was something you weren’t used to) you’d realized that there was a large possibility this could’ve been your fault.

had you been a bad friend recent to his leaving? yes, you had been acting distant, but it was due to normal events, such as school and...the fact that you were hopelessly in love with him. it had been harder to talk with senior year ending and college coming up, but you hadn’t never thought he could just turn himself away like that. never.

and not once had javi tried to contact you. he, of course, knew your number by heart, but after all these years, he’d probably had hundreds of girls phone numbers--in fact, you were sure that if hadn’t been a DEA agent hooked with the most dangerous man on the earth, you would’ve expected him to be married already. you had gone to the wedding. you’d seen how the church was decorated, how each and every guest wore plastered smiles--just the idea of seeing javi made you giddy and you’d worn your best dress you could find. even after returning from university, javier didn’t visit or call. you also remembered hearing lorraine sobbing when her groom didn’t show.

javier was not the type of person to stand someone up. you didn’t know what he was like now, but as teenagers, if he ever had a date (which wasn’t often because even if you didn’t know it, he was hopelessly in love with you) he would arrive five minutes early. 

the one time javi did have a date, you stayed home and watched one of his favorite movies while crying. you hated to admit that the next day, when he admitted to you he didn’t like the girl that much, you were excited.

suddenly, you remembered how this was completely your fault. you had always blamed javier for never calling or writing, but then you realized that you had never made the attempt either.

“fuckin’ hell,” you whispered and washed off your toothbrush. as a nurse, you didn’t normally cake yourself with makeup, but you did wear the average concealer, mascara, and lipstick or gloss. you took one look at your reflection and noticed that your mascara was currently running. when did i cry? you asked yourself and exited the bathroom, not bothering to remove your makeup.

your room was next door and when you walked inside, your dog was patiently waiting next to your nightstand and- god, did i leave the fucking light on again? you felt like slapping yourself until your head was straight because it wasn’t right to think about someone you haven’t seen in twenty years.

you slipped off your pants, leaving you in expensive panties you’d gotten for no reason at all. you threw off your scrubs, discarding them onto the floor with a light air sound and replacing your shirt with a tank-top. your bed had been so perfectly made that it almost annoyed you. you threw yourself onto your bed and began to rub your eyes. it wouldn’t matter if you messed up the mascara because there was nothing to mess up. 

hoping the sleep would rid you of the horrible thoughts, you flipped the lamp next to your bed off and pressed a pillow to your cheek. the small dog at your feet curled up rested his eyes. you did the same.

it would’ve been physically best for your health if you had gone at least six hours of sleeping without any interruption, but one moment in the night, the phone on your nightstand began to blare its ringtone. your eyes shot open and began to burn slightly from a sudden awakening. the sound had scared your dog, who jumped to the ground in protection of whatever the source was until he realized it was the telephone. you groaned with heavy eyelids and looked to the clock. two-twenty five am. as soon as you went to answer the call, it went to dial tone. 

more frustrated than before because you really just wanted to sleep, you groaned and flung yourself back into bed. of course, now you were awake.

but then, the phone began to ring again. it had seemed louder this time and your dog barked in the most un-intimidating way possible before you threw a pillow at the spot next to him to get him quiet. you held the phone close to your ear and spoke a tired, “hello?” the line was silent and at first, you were terrified because you could’ve sworn you heard someone breathing. another one of these. “hello?”

part of this was exciting to you. while it was extremely frustrating to be awoken a few hours before you normally rose to get ready for work, your mind was racing during the silent pause between you and this stranger. who could it be? perhaps it was chucho telling you that javier could be coming home, but you cursed yourself for thinking of that man and dismissed the idea. maybe it was your mom calling to tell you how your father had gotten better and, for now at least, the cancer was gone. 

“(y/n)?”

―

while the reason behind it remained unclear, you had always loved airports. the cleaning-product smell, the diverse people, the small restaurants, even the feeling of the carpet--or the feeling of that when in an airport, you were going somewhere.

it had always been about going somewhere. javier knew this since fifth grade, that you had always wanted to just leave kingsville, texas. maybe you would move to new york, or philadelphia, or even go to london and paris. they had been silly daydreams due to reading too many of your mother’s travel books, but paris had always looked so nice. maybe even visit mexico--you’d already been well immersed in the culture.

but that wasn’t why you were here. you were here for something that was long overdue.

after the phone call that night, you javier had made sure to call each other every other day at ten o’clock pm. there had been some days where you had to stay late at the hospital or javi was chasing sicarios and didn’t get home until midnight--those nights, you would either fall asleep or just call the next day, but you both had made a good schedule. it definitely hadn’t been the same as when you were teenagers, and you didn’t expect it to be. his voice was much deeper and raspier (you knew it was because of the cigarettes, you could practically smell them through the phone) and his voice wasn’t as...lively anymore. you felt that you couldn’t say much, though, because the years had been rough to you as well.

he had told you everything. your thoughts on how he was living was wrong--he told you of the countless informants and prostitutes, how the colombian sun was definitely hotter than the texan sun and even to him it had made a difference. when you both had too much to drink and were passing back funny stories, his was that he had grown a mustache. you had laughed at that one because if you could imagine the clean-shaved, teenage boy that javier once was with a mustache, it was a hilarious thought.

all-in-all, it had still been painful to talk to someone you knew so well like they were a stranger. at first, you had asked yourself if he’d changed but you caught yourself in the stupid thought. of course, he had changed. it had been twenty fucking years and even you had noticed the faint lines starting to appear around your face. 

it had taken almost half a year of phone calls, missed and attended, happy and sad to be where you were now.

the airport bustling had also been one of your favorite things too. the countless and various voices all coming together to make a white noise that was so distinct. 

you were standing near the entrance, watching as families reunited, lovers embraced, and yet you stood alone. it had been over ten minutes since when javier was supposed to show. if you were being honest with yourself, what did you expect? he would just appear out of thin air in the middle of a crowd? you hoped the flight from bogotá had been peaceful and well. there hadn’t been any storms passing by, baggage loading problems, or anything that could possibly delay the plane, so there was no reason for javier not to be there.

unless...you began to think and it had been too late to stop yourself from completing the thought. maybe he just didn’t want to. 

like when he rejected that girl in sixth grade. like when he left you alone in kingsville. like when abandoned his bride at their own fucking wedding.

suddenly, you felt angry. your blood was boiling, your hands felt hot, the hair on your neck became irritating, and the winter heat of texas began to scorch, even in air conditioning. you ran a hand down your face, feeling two beads of sweat trickle down a path to your chin. your foot, which had been tapping for the past now fifteen minutes turned on its heel as you made your way to the glass doors.

your car was just outside. you wouldn’t even have to walk that far, and then you could drive home, cry yourself to sleep, and call javier about this some other time.

“(y/n)!”

tags: @pascalisthepunkest @javierpenaspinkshirt @gummiishark @cyarikaaa @larakasser @pedropasscals @honeyedspace @talesfromtheguild @absurdthirst

[greywindys]

I had a fic I was working on for 2Doc week, but it betrayed me and turned angsty when I wanted something softer. So instead, I thought I could share a fic I never published, and I believe the first fic I ever wrote (dated in Google as complete on June 17th, 2016. Holy moly!)

It fits into day 3′s prompt of firsts - the first night the spent together on good terms. The beginning of the bond, I guess. It could also be considered the first head massage (lmao), as I like to think 2D is good with his hands in various scenarios 😉. (I adapted the head massage into scenes in later fics, but this was the first time I worked with it as a concept.)

If there are any “M” or “D” I apologize! When I was starting out, I was too self-conscious to write their entire names (lmao @ me). Oh, how things have changed. Hopefully, I corrected them all, along with most of the typos...

The rating here is T. Essentially, Murdoc encounters 2D late at night when he can’t sleep, and ends up watching a movie with him. They begin to form a tentative bond, head massages are had as much needed sleep. Takes place during P1.

Also happy bday again, Murdoc 😭

For Murdoc, sleeping is a daunting game of chance. First, there are the good nights, when he drinks enough to remain in a complete stupor until daylight. Then, there are the bad nights when his body’s need for genuine slumber catches up with him. On these nights, he dreams. More often than not, they come to him in the form of nightmares ranging from painfully specific to vague and unsettling. Like a flood, all of the emotions and thoughts he had intended to leave behind in Stoke return.

Tonight is one of those nights.  

This one, in particular, is the reason he’s left the grimy safety of his Winne, head still aching. He intends to rummage through the studio mini-fridge for the half-consumed bottle of rum he started that morning. (after all, his anxiety wasn’t going to fix itself). Instead, he's thrilled to discover the fridge has been restocked, and he's about to grab an unopened bottle of rum when he's interrupted by a crash coming from the direction of the lobby.

The noise is coming towards the kitchen now in slow, shuffling steps. Murdoc presumes it could either be one of the wayward demons he summoned the other day, or it could be another one of the building's many intruders looking for a blank wall to vandalize. Nothing he wants to deal with now in his anxious state. Murdoc considers making a run for his Winnebago but decides against it. ‘You’re Murdoc Niccals” he thinks to himself, ‘Bass god and creative genius. You're not ten anymore and you don't get scared.' With that, he braces himself and he turns to face the unknown figure that was now in the doorway.

“Oh...Hi, Murdoc.”

It’s 2D.

“I've got half a mind to lob you through another car window,” he says trying to mask his surprise. “What the hell are you doing walking around with the lights off in the middle of the night?” That must have been the source of the noise. Typical. It’s as if 2D is intentionally searching for a way to get injured.

2D scratches his head. “No need to get so steamed up about it. I, uh, well, I guess I was trying to keep to the ambiance and all that. I didn’t think anyone else would be awake right now.”

“I don’t know what’s so unexpected. I get more done in a night that you would in a year,” Murdoc replies. He takes a sip of one of the bottles of rum he’s assembled on the counter. “So long as there are still songs to write, the siestas can wait.”

“Not sleeping well then?” 2D asks blithely. Murdoc can’t tell if the singer has seen right through him or failed to comprehend a word of what he just said. He finds him very unreadable at times, and in the most infuriating way.

“No. I was working. Being productive. You ought to try it once in a while,” Murdoc grumbles in response. “Anyways. What’s all this about the ‘ambiance’?” As if 2D is that deep. “And why here?”

“That new zombie movie, you know the one I was telling you about? Well, it arrived today,” 2D says with a grin. “And now I’m watching it. It’s a lot scarier when you do it the dark.”

“Well you have a TV, no, THREE TVs in your room,” Murdoc retorts, exasperated. “Just go away and watch it there.”

“Yeah, uh, l thought about that, but the special effects in this one are supposed to be wicked good and the screen in the lobby has a clearer picture than the screens in my room. I would have watched it this afternoon, but Russel said Noodle shouldn’t be watching all the blood and guts, so I waited until now. It’s better watching scary movies late at night anyway, you know?” 2D is looking at Murdoc now, a tinge of hopefulness in his voice. “A couple blokes on this forum I was reading were describing it like a Romero meets Raimi type film, really over the top.”

“Sounds like a real Oscar winner you have there,” the sarcasm in Murdoc’s voice is palpable.

“Actually, it was a straight to video release, but you should check it out,” 2D says. “I’m only about ten minutes in now...if you have...time,” he trails off awkwardly.

The band had faced many inexplicable and absurd situations, but it is 2D’s consistent attempts to be friends that confounded Murdoc the most. His first inclination to tell the singer to fuck off. Yet the thought of the solitary journey back through the car park gives him pause. He isn't sure he can handle being alone right now. He needs an immediate distraction, a mood lifter, and making fun of 2D has the potential to be a two in one solution. At the very least, it was a safer gamble than going back and running the risk of falling asleep again.

Murdoc makes 2D wait for an answer in uncomfortable silence before replying. “Fine,” he says, “This better be entertaining.”

2D brightens at his response. “Just let me grab some snacks and then we can go back.”

“Yeah, yeah. Oh, and this time turn on the damn lights.”

With some newly acquired light and a bag of crackers in hand, 2D leads Murdoc to the lobby. A collection of pillows and blankets litter the floor. All the while, and to Murdoc’s annoyance, he takes the time to tell him every detail of the conception of his setup. He had been in the lobby for the past four hours watching movies. According to 2D, doing so in such an open area was much scarier than in his room or even in the building’s cinema. He was also sorry because they would have to turn the lights off again when the film starts. “Because well, you know, Muds. The ambiance.”

“Just start the bloody movie will you,” Murdoc replies from his spot on the floor. The size of Kong is intimidating at night, and it’s not helping him calm down. He hates how much his dreams still affect him. Physically, he had left all the bad energy behind ages ago, but mentally it follows him like a low-hanging mist, threatening to completely engulf him daily. He couldn't seem to make it go away, but he could control how much he thought about it. Alcohol was typically his mainstay but right now, that job belonged to an unwitting 2D. If he didn’t start the movie soon, Murdoc was going to set his entire movie collection on fire.

“It’s the little triangle that does the trick, right?” 2D asks as he studies the remote. “Never mind. I think I have it. There we go.”

The scene starts with a group of young adults in their twenties hiking through the woods as night falls. Occasionally, the camera switches angles. It shows the group from alternate perspectives such as the bushes or the tops of trees.

“The director wanted to flip the whole slow zombie portrayal on its head,” 2D explains. “There’s already been talk of fast zombies in the indie horror community, but he wants to take that one step further. In an interview, he said that not only were his zombies going to be fast, but they were also going to fly.”

“That’s stupid. And you thought this was worth the twenty or so quid you blew on it?”

“He’s ahead of his time. You’ll see. Look,” 2D says through a mouthful of crackers. He points to the current scene. One of the protagonists had wandered away from his group in search of a good place to set up camp. “See what he does with the camera there? We’re watching the main character from the perspective of a flying zombie. The director wanted to make a movie about an outbreak that emerges in the wilderness, not because of some virus. It's meant to add to the impossibility of the situation. How do we fight against something not man-made? Watching the film through the eyes of the monster emphasizes how alone and insignificant we are in the face of well, everything. Man versus nature, nature versus man.”

Murdoc grabs the bag of crackers from 2D. “Oh please. This is hardly cutting edge. We all know they’ll all be dead in the end because nature is bigger than man. Duh.” He takes a handful for himself and continues watching.

2D ignores him and continues his reflection. “It makes me wonder whether it would be better to be a zombie at the end, rather than survive. Not sure I would want the loneliness that comes with it.”

Murdoc is beginning to realize that 2D is in one of his chatty, philosophical moods. He attempts to tune out the singer’s blathering with another drink from the bottle of rum he brought with him from the kitchen. He came here to watch a ridiculous movie. Instead, he's stuck listening to banal musings about the true nature of humanity from someone with a half-functioning brain.

“Well if there’s ever a zombie apocalypse here, I’ll be sure to let them eat you first if you’re so eager. You’re already halfway there anyway, and certainly no better off than these divs on screen.”

“Thanks, Muds. If I ever get infected, I’ll make sure not to bite you...unless you want me too,” 2D replies.

This time, it’s Murdoc's turn to ignore him. “Anyways, as far as I’m concerned, anyone who’s too pathetic to fight against a zombie apocalypse deserves whatever is coming to them.” He gets a twisted sense of comfort from blaming.

“I dunno...I don’t see any shame in being afraid of a monster bigger than you. That’s what makes these movies so scary. We all have our own monsters that seem impossible to overcome,” 2D says sagely. “It’s not anyone’s fault, it’s just how it is.”

Murdoc scowls. “Does watching movies at this hour always turn you into a half-braindead Socrates? Or Plato? Hippocrates? He's just naming names now. He fidgets.  

On-screen, another character screams as one of the zombies bites her arm.

“Are you alright there, Muds?” Why did 2D have to pick up on everything? “Movie too scary for ya?���

“No!” Murdoc snaps. “It’s not that… It’s just...” Neither 2D nor the rum he grabbed from the fridge earlier had done anything to dull his current bout of nerves. Instead, all the tension has been gathering at the base of his neck. The throbbing in his head from before is even worse. He groans in frustration.

“You just seem a little on edge, that’s all.”

“...It’s my head.”

“Oh, you have a headache,” 2D says, seemingly pleased that it’s an issue well within the breadth of his expertise. “Do you need any help with it? I was talking with my mum about mine just last week; she gave me something good.”  

Murdoc perks up. He could count on one hand the number of scenarios where he would place his trust in 2D. Pain medicine was one of them. A strong painkiller could change everything. “Do you happen to any of those buggers with you now?”

“Sure,” 2D says, smiling as he moves closer to where Murdoc is sitting.

“What are you doing?”

“I’m um, well for this to work I’m actually going to have to touch your head.”

Immediately, Murdoc jerks away. “You what?!”

2D shrinks back in response. “It’s just a head massage, Muds.  My mum’s worried about the number of prescriptions I have so we cut one of the stronger ones out and replaced it with this. We wanted to see if it made a difference. I’ve been going to a massage therapist for the past two weeks or so. It doesn’t quite do the trick but it works well enough, I picked up some technique myself, uh, I think.”

“You can take all that geeky zen rubbish and sod off,” Murdoc mutters.

“Okay, Muds...alright.”

They continue watching the screen as victim after victim gets infected. 2D continues to interject with overlong descriptions about symbolism, zombie lore, and film technique. Murdoc weighs his options. If he’s being honest, he’s at a point where he would accept anything that might make him feel better. But why did it have to be 2D? On the other hand, the singer wouldn’t stop talking. Considering it was just the two of them, and no one else would ever have to find out, Murdoc makes his decision. Allowing 2D to touch his head in this scenario was justified. Interrupting yet another explanation about the folly of man, he asks, “Hey uh...2D? You know that massage you were talking about? Will giving me one make you shut up for more than ten minutes?”

“Oh..uh,” 2D sounds surprised. “Yeah. Yeah, we can give it a try.” Hesitantly, he moves behind Murdoc and begins.

2D’s fingers send tiny sparks along Murdoc’s scalp as he kneads the muscles in his forehead, moving downwards along his hairline. He dwells on how amazing it feels but pushes that thought to the side with haste. He keeps his eyes locked on the screen and the excessive depictions of gore and chaos. It’s an apt representation of turmoil he is currently feeling inside. What he finds so maddening about 2D, even more than his inscrutability and empty-headedness, was his willingness to be kind to Murdoc. Murdoc had spent the past twenty or so years convincing himself that kindness was not meant to be a part of his life. There was something inherent to his existence that repelled it from him. And he had come to accept that until 2D had to come along and mess it all up. It had to be because he was just too stupid, there was no other answer. Murdoc wasn’t sure he would be able to handle any other answer.

As 2D moves his hands to the back of Murdoc’s head, he begins softly humming. He begins following along to the soundtrack of the movie but soon trails off on his own. Evidently, watching the movie without any sort of verbalization was not going to happen. However, the melody he’s come up with is wistful and soothing. Murdoc makes a mental note to ask him about it in the morning to see if it would fit with some lyrics he had drafting. Slowly, and a bit self-consciously, Murdoc feels himself begin to relax.

“How does it feel so far? Is it working?” 2D asks.

Oh, it was working. More than that, Murdoc realizes a significant amount of his tension had abated. The darkness of the lobby no longer looks so menacing, the unpleasant memories that were hovering over him seem to have floated away. He's never been able to settle himself down from a bad night without copious amounts of alcohol. It’s an unfamiliar but pleasant sensation.

“I think the movie is almost over. Didn’t quite live up to the hype but it was still pretty entertaining after all. How about you?” 2D asks, still looking for a response.

Murdoc yawns. “I’ll give this director you were so excited about some credit. He knows his way around a good death scene. I don’t think I’ve ever seen fake blood used that way before.”

“The fake blood actually cause a lot of controversies because some of it was real animal blood. I almost didn’t buy it myself.”

“Ah. A man after my own heart.” 2D’s hands are still kneading the back of his head when Murdoc moves to lie down on his stomach.

“Oh, are you going to sleep now?” 2D asks.

“No. Keep going.” He would have never considered it earlier in the night but, as the singer's fingers continue to run through his hair, Murdoc muses that sleep may not sound so bad after all. Even though it was just 2D, it’s comforting to have him there. 

“So I guess it’s been helping then? My mum will glad to hear,” 2D says. “But you might want to run a comb through your hair a bit more often, it’s all greasy...also a bit tangled in the back.”

“Just...shut up.”

So he does, returning to the reflective melody he had been humming just minutes ago. It’s the singer’s soft croon that sticks in Murdoc's mind as he finally drifts off completely.

-------

When his eyes open, the first thing Murdoc notices is the half-empty bottle of rum he had left by his side. The next thing he notices is that he's still in the lobby, surrounded by blankets. He must have slept there the entire night. 

“Oh, morning, Muds,” comes a familiar voice just to the right of him. “You’re awake.”

Turning quickly in the direction of the voice, Murdoc finds himself face to face with 2D. “What the hell are you still doing here?” M demands, mortified, “Why didn’t you go back to your own room?”

“Well, I was going to do that, but once you laid down, I wanted to lay down too, and you rolled over on my arm and wouldn’t budge. I tried to tell you, but all you did was try and elbow me. You missed though,” 2D mumbles. It sounds like he’s still half asleep. “Then I guess I just nodded off.”

Murdoc feels his embarrassment beginning to morph into anger but decides to ignore it. He's pretty comfortable right where he is. “You’re lucky you’re my lead singer.” 2D was also lucky that he gave good head massages. “Because otherwise, you would be on some really thin ice right now.”

“We’ll be lucky to see any ice at all this winter what with all the warm weather.”

Usually, an obtuse response from 2D would have earned him a string of insults or a swat on the head. Today was not going to be one of those days. Murdoc turns again so that he’s facing away from the singer, pulling the blanket over his head to block out the light. He was going to savor the moment a bit longer. Despite 2D being 2D, it’s rare that he’s ever felt so at peace.

“Hey, Murdoc? Wait,” 2D says, “You never gave me my arm back.”

“Too bad. I’ll check back in a couple hours,” Murdoc grins beneath the blanket. He still couldn’t pass up a chance to inconvenience the singer at every opportunity. It was too much fun.

“Don’t be such a wanker,” 2D says as he attempts to jerk his arm out from underneath the bassist. “I was nice to you!”

He was right. And he was probably nicer than he deserved, given their history. For that reason, Murdoc would roll off his arm soon enough. He still wanted to talk to him about that song he had been humming.

The singer had surprised him last night. Murdoc knew that 2D had an uncanny ability to figure out how to annoy him to maximum effect, but he never would have expected him to also know what to do to put him at ease. Underneath the covers, he ponders what exactly this realization means to him. He isn’t sure, but he knows it means something. It wasn’t going to eliminate the underlying resentment he still clung to, nor was it going to solve his infinite list of issues. But at the very least, he could rest assured knowing that he wasn’t completely alone.

[gerrystamour]

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.

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[eleventhdoctorsangel]

You should be scared of me

Summary: Dad always seem to be adopting boys who reminds him of himself when he was a kid. The first boy he adopted was Dick Grayson. He became my best friend. We were attached at the hip even though he was older than me. After he left I became lonely again. I was alone for a year then dad adopted another boy. Jason Todd.

So it’s been three months since we got to San Francisco. It took about a week for Jason to started talking to me again. He realized what an ass he was. Within the three months I’ve gotten closer to Rachel and Gar. But right now Rachel and Dick were out of the towers and I was with Gar and Jason watching them train. The two had wooden swords and Jason had a blindfold on. “When I give the word come at me and don’t hold back.” Jason said. Gar nodded even though Jason couldn’t see him do it. I let out a small giggle. “Did you just nod?” Jason asked. “Yeah. I got it. Just don’t hold back.” Gar said. “Play fair boys I don’t feel like breaking you two up again.” I said. “Go!” Jason yelled. I watched as the boys started to spar Jason just stopping inches away from hitting Gar every time. Gar looked over to me. I nodded letting him know that it was ok to keep going. I watched as they fight got more intense it wasn’t until Jason had his back turned to Gar that Gar smack his in the back of the head. Jason quickly ripped the blindfold off turning to Gar. “Fuck man!” Jason said. “You said don’t hold back.” Gar said. “Boys.” I said. “What were you doing? I was fucking blindfolded.” Jason said. “You said Don’t hold back.” Gar said as he intimidated Jason’s voice. “Should I get the hose?” Rachel asked as she walked into the room. “What’s going on?” Dick asked following in behind Rachel. “We did what you said the blindfold thing then he went nuts on me.” Jason said motioning to Gar. “He said Don’t hold back.” Gar said. “He did say that Dick.” I said. “Then why do we even learn to fight like this man? It’s idiotic. We have eyes.” Jason said. “In battle anything can be taken from you.Your hands, your feet and your eyes.” Dick said as he ripped Jason sword from him stabbing in down between Gar’s feet and then pointed at Rachel’s eyes. Both Jason and Gar looked at me since Dick never pointed it at me. “You must be able to keep fighting and win. Alright get changed. Attack scenarios in the tech room in five minutes. Then breakfast.” Dick said. I got up and started to walk out with Rachel and Gar but stopped. “Yo look it’s been three months man. When do I get to go back to Gotham City?” Jason asked. I looked to Dick then back at Jason. “Bruce doesn’t think you’re ready yet and neither do I. I’m sorry man. You blew your privileges.” Dick said. “What?” Jason asked. “The batmobile joyrides. The motorcycle on the staircase.” Dick said as he turned to leave putting a hand on my arm to follow him out. “I was practicing my tactical maneuvers. ”And those websites you bookmarked? You know that’s not what the batcomptuer’s used for.” Dick said. “Oh come on man. This gig is a waste of time!” Jason said. “It’s called training. And you know as well as I do it never stops.” Dick said as he let go of my arm. “But all we do is fight each other.” Jason said. “Yeah like equals. When you’re fighting with batman you’re a sidekick. There are no sidekicks in Titans.” Dick said as he made his way over to Jason. “You’re kidding right? Because that’s literally all the Titans are sidekick. I mean it’s practically the fucking motto. Wonder girl, Aqualad.” Jason said. “You’re thinking of the old Titans. This is the new Titans. That was the whole point when Donna and I put the team together the first time. We’re partners. We have each other’s backs.” Dick said. “Yeah well tell that to tiger boy.” Jason said. This made Dick let out a sigh. “Okay look here’s the thing. I could actually use some help with the others. They don’t have the experience you have.” Dick said. “Yeah. Yeah for sure.” Jason said. “Have you noticed how they sort of look up to you? Follow your lead? When you’re on point they’re on point. When you’re not?” Dick said. “It’s true.” Jason said laughing a little and looked down. “They need your leadership Jason. You need to set the tone. I’m not robin anymore. You are.” Dick said patting Jason on the shoulder and started to walk out. “Hey wait. If I’m Robin who are you?” Jason asked. “That’s a good question.” Dick said then walked away. “You okay now?” I asked. “A little.” Jason said. “You know that everything that he told you is true right.” I said smiling. “Yeah I know but I just wish they let me go back to Gotham.” Jason said. “Well maybe if you start trying to be better and not make so many mistakes just maybe Dick and Dad will let you go back.” I said. “You really thing that?” Jason asked. “Yes I do. Now come on we should go get change don’t want to keep the other waiting.” I said as I walked out of the training room and Jason followed me.

The rest of the day went by fast. During lunch I gave Dawn a call to see how everything was doing for her and Hank. She wanted to know when I would come to see them and the horses. Knowing of course if you mention animals I would come running. I told her I would try to come in two or three weeks depending on how much help Dick needs. But then again Dick would have told me that he could handle things and that I should just go ahead and go. Right now the boys were in the living area while Rachel and I finished washing the dishes from dinner since it was our night to do them while we were doing them Rachel asked if she could show me something later and I told her that she could. We got them washed in about ten minutes then we went to join the boys. I heard a helicopter approaching I made my way to the window as one flew by. “What do you think this is all about?” I asked. “It’s probably nothing to worry about.” Dick said. I went over grabbing the remote and turned it to the news. Gar and Jason sat on the couch. Rachel and I sat on the table in front of the couch. Dick was standing nearby with his arms crossed. “Live at a downtown car chase in a stolen vehicle. Police seem to have the suspect cornered.” The new anchor said. Then the person who was driving the car got out it was a girl. She started to fight the officers and shot one. “Now it looks like the suspect.” Another news anchor said. “Who the hell is that?” Rachel asked. “A total badass.” Jason said. I couldn’t help but feel my heart break when he said that. Rachel grabbed my hand giving it a comforting squeeze. The girl kept fight the police as the helicopter got closer. “The suspect does appear to be female she’s got sliver hair. She does seem to be injured we’re not sure how badly.” The new anchor said. The girl had looked behind her noticed more police and decided to make a run for it. “She seems to be making a run for it. Not sure where she thinks she’s going.” The new anchor said. The girl jumped from the parking garage crashing in a nearby building. “Oh my. Okay. Did you see that? I absolutely did.” The two news anchors said. “I’ll be back.” Dick said as he quickly left. I got up from my spot and went to my room.

A few minutes later I heard a knock at my door. “Come in.” I yelled. I heard my door opened and Rachel walked in. “I just wanted to see if you were okay.” Rachel said. “Yeah I’m fine why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “You just looked hurt when Jason called that girl a total badass.” Rachel said as she sat down next to me. “Rachel its fine. If Jason hasn’t showed any signs that he likes me back than I need to accept the fact a move on.” I said. “Then he’s an ass if he can’t see obviously the best thing to will ever happen to him.” Rachel said. “Thanks Rach. Now what is it that you wanted to show me?” I said. Rachel stood up lifting her shirt up a little turning around to show me four chaw marks on her back. “Oh my god Rach what happened?” I asked. “I was studying before dinner and dozed off when I woke up they were there.” Rachel said. “Have you clean these yet?” I asked. “No.” Rachel said. “Hold on.” I said as I got up from my bed as I went over to my desk and getting the first aid kit from it. “They don’t look deep so that’s good.” I said as I put the first aid kit on my bed and kneeled on the ground. “Are you going to tell Dick?” Rachel asked as I started to get out some gauze. “Only if you want me to. Right now this can just stay between you and me if you want.” I said as I took out some rubbing alcohol. “Thanks Y/n you’re the best.” Rachel said. “Don’t mention it but if this happened again in the next week we should tell Dick okay.” I said as I got some rubbing alcohol on a piece of gauze. “Do you miss Gotham?” Rachel asked. “I do and I don’t. This is going to sting.” I said. I started to clean the claw marks. Rachel let out a wince on pain. “I know but I’m almost done.” I said putting the gauze with rubbing alcohol down getting a clean piece. After wiping the remaining blood away. Then I got a new piece of gauze and some medical tape. I put the gauze hold it there with my hand as I put the medical tape of it. “There you go. Just make sure you change this is the morning.” I said. “Thanks Y/n.” Rachel said as she put her shirt down. “Don’t mention it.” I said as I started to put the supplies away. I picked up the first aid kit as I stood up. I put it away and threw away to gauze that had blood. Just as I did there was a knock at my door. “Come in.” I said. The door opened and Dick walked in. “Hey Dick.” I said. “Everything go okay?” Rachel asked.  “Everything went fine. Y/n can you come with me?” Dick asked. Rachel looked over to me rising an eyebrow. “Yeah sure. We can continue this conversation in a bit Rach.” I said. “Sounds good.” Rachel said. I followed Dick out of my room to one of the spare rooms.

When I walked in the room with Dick I noticed that the girl from the news passed out on the bed. “Is she okay?” I asked. “She breathing but other than that I don’t know how hurt she is.” Dick said. I nodded. “I’ll go get a first aid kit.” Dick said. “Okay. I seeing what we need to do.” I said. Dick left the room and I started to look the girl over and she seemed to just have some small cuts. I started to take off the tape and gauze off of her eye. I was shock to see that what ever happened to her eye was healing. Dick need to get back fast. Dick walked back in the room with a first aid kit in his hands. “Dick you need to see this right now.” I said. Dick rushed over to me. “What wr.” Dick said but stopped.  “What are we dealing with?” I asked. “Once she wakes up we will get to the bottom of this just put some fresh gauze on this.” Dick said. I nodded then started to fix up her eye. Then after I was done Dick let me leave. I left the room and went back to finish my talk with Rachel. 

Rachel and I talked more about me missing Gotham. I did miss Gotham but I didn’t miss being used as lavage against dad. It was long after that Dick came and got Rachel and I letting us know that the girl was awake and more than likely trying to leave. We watch and followed the girl as she went to the elevator trying to use her finger print to leave but it didn’t recognized her finger print. “Access denied.” The automated voice said. We all stood behind her. “Going somewhere?” Rachel asked. The girl turned and looked at us. I was standing next to Rachel I watched as Dick stepped forward. I watch as Jason looked at the girl with a look that I had never seen before. He stepped forward but Rachel stopped him by putting her hand on his chest.  I fought to hold back the tears but when I felt them roll down my face I quickly wiped them away but only Gar and Rachel noticed. “We need to talk.” Dick said.

Taglist: @marvel-gives-me-feels​

Overall Taglist: @the-broken-halo-writer​