#the penumbra fanfic

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

Our Angel of Brahma, pt. v

Sorry not sorry.

@ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @the-private-eye @demonic-panini @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS. (MUFFLED SNIFFLING) BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): It’s been– ten years. A decade. And I thought I was over it by now. I thought I was past this. I– I didn’t even cry this much last year over my dad. Fucking hell… I didn’t even cry over my mom!  SOUND: FIST BANGING AGAINST TABLE. BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): I love my mom. I love her so much, but I forgot about what she did for me. I forgot about feeling sad for her… (BIG SNIFFLE) We have not seen our Angel of Brahma, for fifteen years. It has been fifteen years, and I am still waiting for my mom to come home. I am still waiting to bury my dead.  It’s been ten years, and I’m still waiting to bury you, Charlie. There’s nothing left of your old life. I tried looking for something, anything, but I kept coming up empty-handed. I miss your Mom’s cooking, and I miss your Dad’s jokes. I miss your baby sister’s chubby little cheeks, and I miss– (BAIRD COUGHS) I miss singing for you. I’m still singing but what good is it if the only person I wanted to let hear me isn’t around? Can’t be here?  SOUND: KNOCKING ON DOOR. HINGES CREAK. HUSHED VOICE.  BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): Get out! SOUND: METAL CAN HITTING DOOR. DOOR SLAMMING SHUT.  (BAIRD HUFFING) BAIRD (REVOLUTIONARY): Fuck. Iris is going to kill me later. Heh– maybe it’s for the best… You wouldn’t want me talking like that.  (BAIRD CLEARING HIS THROAT) Last week on Brahma: Josie’s girls saved up enough creds from doing their little odd jobs around the block to barter for chocolate from a Constable. Josie found out, and she was livid. The girls gave me their chocolate and wished me a happy birthday.  This week on Brahma: I have not celebrated my birthday in ten years. I forgot I even had one. It has been ten years since we lost you, Charlie. Josie’s girls are grounded for another week. Talia is counting on me to help organize the next community meeting. We’ve heard rumors from the Constables about expansion plans to New Kinshasa. But we’ve also heard rumors that they’ve caught the Angel. I don’t wanna believe it, but…  (BAIRD SIGHS) I’m not going to.  I miss you, Charlie. I miss my mom and dad. I miss Hank’s dog. I miss Mrs. Darius… And I miss you. There’s so much I miss but if I could have just one more day with you, one more adventure, one last kiss, one final goodbye– I’d give up anything in a heartbeat. I’d lose my voice if it meant you would scream at me again like I was sixteen, trying to get involved with Talia in the revolution with our “book club”.  (SNORT) If only you could see me now… I gotta go, Charlie. Promise me you’ll be waiting for me on the other side. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

(CALYPSO HICCUPS AND BLOWS HER NOSE)

- Baird was 16 when he started his “book club” with Talia. Their first “reading” was Fahrenheit 451. There are no libraries left on Brahma (TRUE). Baird mentions a “community meeting”. The book club was a cover up (and Charlie got mad? Why?) 

- He was 16 when Josie’s twins were born (SIDE NOTE: they would be about 10 at the time of recording). 16 when Hank’s dog died and Mrs. Darius was diagnosed with radiation poisoning. 

- 16+10= 26? Baird is/about 26(?) at time of recording

- 26-15= 11? Baird was/about 11(?) when Peter Nureyev threatened the G.A.S., and Baird’s mom “vanished” overnight

- 26-1= 25-10= 15, Baird was/about 15(?) when Dad was beaten, taken, and presumably killed by the Constables? 

- Who is Iris? Another neighbor/community member? Why would they come into the place Baird’s at so nonchalantly? 

- CHOCOLATE AGAIN! It likely did come from New Kinshasa back when Baird agreed to sing for Charlie. 

- Baird didn’t expect to have such big emotions over Charlie. What did happen to Charlie? Presumably dead? Why? Did they both get caught up in the revolution? Must be what happened to Baird’s parents now happening to them. What happened to Charlie’s family? Also presumably dead? (SIDE NOTE: Frannie says there’s a way to trace older recordings, but it would take her a long time and cost me more creds than I have right now. Is it worth it? She also did not like me mentioning Dark Matters. Something about her friend getting caught up in that mess 3 to 4 years ago because she became a pirate?? Unclear what this means. But she did say that if I waited a bit I would get a nice juicy email with all the information about every single Baird in the galaxy, all I needed to give her was a rough age range.)

[junoverseposting]

I actually remembered to post a fic link to tumblr lol.

Speculatory writing on the new title reveal.

[2flyingfoxes]

“That’s a dumb fucking question.” A beat. “Shit, will they bleep that?”

Reasons I was put on this earth: 1) to put Juno in pretty dresses 2) to give him more trauma 3) to let him say fuck

Fanart to chapter 7 of Nike, who hesitates. (Or official art, I guess.)

Guache on paper, closeup under the cut.

[ceaseless-watchers-special-girl]

happy pride month to trans guys who’ve been in a coma for 20 years you did nothing wrong king i don’t even care you came home covered in blood that one time <33

[anydaynowany]

i really need to get more people to listen to red valley, i’m suffering with not enough fan content to feed the hyperfixation gods

[ephemeralgalaxies]

"oh it's great to have a community of writers so u can ask each other about different experiences!" "oh it's so nice being able to get an info dump on someone's interests that winds up helping ur writing!" "we can help support and encourage each other to keep going!" yes yes all this, love connecting with my fellow writers.

aLSO THOUGH having my allo friends help me figure out if I'm being too cringe in trying to describe a character as hot. Always forget how aroace I am until I got a character pov that is NOT and suddenly all understanding of *attraction*

[ernmark]

I may be one of the few human beings that doesn't mind work meetings-- partly because the whole 'raised Mormon' thing kinda drilled leadership meetings and agendas into my head back when I was a teenager, and partly because I'm currently low enough in the pecking order that I'm frequently just a butt in a chair and can spend most of the meeting not paying attention while higher-ups debate matters that I have no access to.

Listen, I am all here for being paid to smile and nod thoughtfully while silently plotting out my next fanfic.

[heartfulselkie]

I know people mostly follow me for art stuff now, but I do have a couple of fics on AO3 if anyone's interested! My name over on AO3 is Selkie077

Citrus and Lavender (Ongoing, Rated T)

Enemies AU with Chat Noir working with Hawk Moth from the beginning. Even though the "enemies" part is mainly on the Ladynoir side, there's interaction between all sides of the love square as they awkwardly fumble around and try to figure each other out.

Bell The Cat (Ongoing, Rated T)

Fantasy/Knight AU with a dash of enemies to reluctant allies then friends to lovers. Hawk Moth, tyrant of the kingdom, is dead. Slain by his own champion Chat Blanc of all things. But as the renowned Hero of Gallia, Ladybug knows the war against the Akumas is far from over. With a lot of questions remaining, she decides that the first step to getting answers is to save Chat Blanc from death row.

Dream A Little Dream of Me (One Shot, Rated T)

Marinette tries to forget about Chat Blanc as much as possible, but that doesn't stop her from dreaming about him.

Glass Cages (One Shot, Rated T)

Adrien is struggling against the isolation his celebrity status forces on him and the constant expectation of perfection. Luckily he's not alone in this, as Ladybug also knows what it's like to be kept on a pedestal.

Priceless (One Shot, Rated G)

Based on a Tumblr prompt. Upon discovering that Marinette made an expensive (and somewhat secretive) purchase, Adrien has a lot of questions.

Penumbra (Complete, Rated M)

Check tags carefully for this one as it deals with some heavy themes. Adrien is haunted by an experience he can never forget, so he turns to being Chat Noir as much as possible to escape it. As Marinette's relationship deepens with both Adrien and Chat Noir, she starts to realise there's something hidden behind their smiles.

And I'm Still Breathless (Complete, Rated T)

A oneshot written as part of a series for the Littlebug Valentine's Zine.

It was only a couple of kisses and they had been for the photoshoot. But Adrien is a romantic at heart, and when he falls he falls hard.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Chapter 2

Pairing: Captain John Price x Fem!OC (3rd person POV)

Word count: 2.9 K

Minors DNI - medieval fantasy au, ladyhawke inspired au, animal shifting (of a sort), angst and romance, YEARNING, Gaz POV for this chapter

A self-indulgent Ladyhawke AU for my ship of John Price/Rory Sinclair (oc) and told from Price and Gaz's swapping POVs.

Summary: While at camp a stranger appears, as does a threat

[Can also be read on AO3]

The camp is quiet when Garrick returns from collecting firewood. Nikolai brays in the corner, stomping his legs, but otherwise nothing seems out of place. The cooking pot has been set out by an old fire pit beside the sack of goods the Captain had bought in the village. He huffs, realizing that he’s been left with cooking duty. It’s only fair, he surmises, considering he’s invited himself to join this crusade, he has no right to complain about duties appointed to him – even if he did spare the man’s life. He starts the fire without delay, wood popping and crackling as flames burst to life with the same warm orange radiance as the sky as it slips into the embrace of night. Placing the pot on the fire pit, he adds water from the nearby well and begins to slice up the onions, potatoes and carrots to start a stew. It’s no feast for a king, but for a night on an old, derelict farm it will do. 

It’s been years since Garrick had been out camping under the stars – something he hasn’t done since boyhood – and he finds himself enjoying the prospect of the freedom it allows. It's more than he’s tasted in five years. Filling his lungs with the comforting perfume of woodsmoke, homey and inviting, he doesn’t feel quite so lonely out here in the woods in the company of a man who is still practically a stranger. Time passes, the darkness comes in slow, a specter creeping as the sun sinks down below the horizon. Hues of indigo and lavender paint the night sky above, dotted with stars born from the dying of the light. While below, the stream that runs by the camp comes to life with the croaking of frogs and the glow of hovering fireflies. The wind shakes the limbs of the trees causing the leaves to dance, and an eerie whistle blows through them. There is a haunting beauty to the night, and under the lucency of the moon, magic seems possible.

The bubbling of the cast iron pot left to stew fills the campsite with pleasant aromatics and Garrick realizes it’s been some time since he’s seen Price. He stretches his long legs, lifting himself up off his seat on the ground, and heads towards the barn. The door left open, its hinges creak in the cool breeze as it swings to and fro. Wood clattering against itself causing the whole structure to tremble with each knock. There is only a void of darkness inside, subtle movements barely visible, but it’s proof he is not alone at camp.

“Sir?” He calls out, expecting the grumble that seemed to be his companion's usual response and met with only silence instead. “Sir,” he repeats once more, his head ducking inside to check on the state of his party member. 

His brow furrows when he doesn’t find the Captain as expected and is instead met by a cloaked figure standing in his stead inside the old barn. The lamb nowhere in sight. Garrick gets an odd feeling in the pit of his gut that all is not as it seems. A twisting that settles low and sends shivers up his spine, causing the hair on his arms to rise. His nose wrinkles in a grimace as he looks the hooded form before him over, knowing all too well that this isn’t the Captain – despite wearing his clothes. He brandishes his sword in defense, pointing it in the direction of the stranger in his midst. “Who goes there?”

The figure turns to face him, feet susurrating in the hay, their features darkened by the black hood that swallows and cuts deep shadows across their face. A glimpse of luminescence slices through the broken shingles in the roof, bathing the shadowy form in moonglow, and from under the hood, he is met by two of the brightest eyes he’s ever seen. A gaze as warm as the morning sun, surrounded by long, dark lashes, like that of a fawn. 

Mesmerized, he finds himself lost, simply staring. His weapon lowers against his will, becoming all too heavy in his grasp. She’s beautiful. He can think of no other words to describe her, his mind cleared of all thought as she stares back at him, rolling up the sleeves of the tunic that fits her more like a dress. 

Big, brown puppy dog eyes grow wide, still wet with the smoke from the fire. His mouth falling agape, throat running dry. “Dear Lord…” he whispers under his breath. 

Taking a moment to settle himself, to regain his cognitive processes, he clears his throat and straightens himself up to look like a proper member of the guard. “M’lady, what are you –”

But before he can ask any pertinent questions, a commotion starts outside. The sounds of branches cracking and smashing thunderously upon the ground travel from the nearby woods. The Lord’s guards or something more feral? He can’t be certain, and Garrick finds himself trapped between a rock and a hard place when it comes to deciding which is of greater importance – the mysterious woman or the noises outside. 

“Pardon me, m’lady.” He pushes past her to exit the barn, never failing to still provide the expected chivalrous response. 

Heading back out to the center of camp in a rush, he draws his sword and watches as the foliage at the woods’ edge bend and bow at the whim of the massive, muscular form of a great grizzly. The fatty hump on its back protrudes over the tops of the bushes as its dark eyes reflect the golden light of the blaze in the make-shift hearth. Stomping towards the smell of food, snuffling and sniffing at the ground, it grunts and chuffs as its sturdy body moves about, its claws digging at the earth. 

Sword in hand, Garrick makes his way over to the bear with carefully plotted steps. Maintaining quiet movements as he creeps closer, slowly readying himself for a fight. He steels himself with a sharp inhale, the fingers of his other hand curling into a fist before meeting the other on the hilt. His weapon raised, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. 

The silver light of the crescent moon sparks off the edge of his blade and the air whips past him, followed by a streak of black. Caught off guard, he freezes at the sight of the woman from the barn standing in front of the bear. Her arms outstretched, holding firm as its shield. The hood having fallen away, her hair undulates in the wind, strands billowing free as her jaw sits clenched tight, brow furrowed, those captivating eyes of hers narrowed in his direction – even angry she could turn heads. Garrick would be smitten all over again if he wasn’t blatantly aware of the fantastical situation he was trapped in the middle of. 

This woman doesn’t back down, a beast at her back and a longsword aimed to strike true at her chest. She stands as bravely as any member of the old guard would have. No fear in her eyes, free of any intimidation.

“Bloody hell, are you mad?” 

“I wish I was,” she states calmly. Voice smooth and rich, evoking that of nobility. Carrying the pride of one of the upper caste all the same as she openly commands him, “Put down your sword, soldier.”

The brutish creature behind her rears up to its hind legs, towering over her, its full height easily beyond nine feet tall. With a terrifying roar, it exposes its massive, jagged teeth in a territorial display. The bear’s bellow – powerful and low – echoes over the treetops, amplified as strings of saliva drip from its razor sharp jaws, its growl reverberating from deep within its barrel chest.  

Yet she doesn’t move at all. Completely unflinching. Continuing to take up her place guarding the bear as if she’s sworn some sacred oath to it. “I beg of you, please, put the weapon down.” She speaks with conviction, enough to move mountains. “He means you no harm. He’s merely defending himself, and me.”

Slipping his sword warily back into his scabbard, Garrick can’t help but regard the woman as if she’s lost her mind. Shocked to find he’s even willing to follow such an order from a strange woman in the woods. But upon doing so, the bear settles back down onto its forepaws, gruffing with the displeasure of the brawl ending. Rounding her, the large creature presses his head to the woman’s chest, nuzzling against her. Nudging her back with its snout as her hands drift through its thick brown fur, groaning as her nails massage at the flesh below.

The Sergeant stands there, motionless, a statue fused to the spot where his feet are planted. Perplexed by the sight before him, the likes of which he – and likely no one else – has ever seen. His hand remains on the hilt of his sword, fingertips tapping against the grip, noting the way the bear eyes him suspiciously.

“Are you some sort of witch?” he asks with genuine curiosity. “A druid?”

Her laugh is soft and sweet, dancing on the wind as much as the fireflies do. “No.” She shakes her head, but the friendly smile doesn’t waver – though her attention is firmly set on the bear she continues to lovingly stroke with care. 

“Then who are you?”

The joy on her face fades, a pained expression tugging her lips downward as she gazes at the bear in her company. “Just a traveler.”

He looks her over once more, dressed in the garb of the Captain he’s taken to riding with, and she is at ease even with the sadness that looms over her. Her head presses to the spot between the grizzly’s ears, her delicate hand roaming over the length of the animal’s throat. “How does he remain so calm in your presence?” He keeps his distance, unsure of just how much of a hold she has over this creature. “Did you train him?” “No,” she says quietly, her hand coming to rest under the bear’s jaw, their eyelines meeting. “Well… perhaps a little,” she teased with a small smirk. “But he’d never believe it. Stubborn bastard that he is,” she whispered, pressing her forehead to the animal’s brow. 

Looking over at the fire and the vessel of stew starting to boil over, Garrick pulls his attention away from the mystery he’s been thrown into and moves to take that night’s dinner off the flame. Lifting the pot, he looks back at her over his shoulder. “You must be starving, a fellow traveler on the road, perhaps you’d like to stay and eat?” His head tilts to the side, meeting her with his own cordial smile. “It’s not much, but it’s sure to fill your stomach at the very least.”

She nods and takes a seat by the fire. “I’d appreciate that, yes.” Taking the lid off, steam rises, carrying the aroma of herbs and hearty meat and vegetables. His mouth near watering as he starts to ladle out a bowlful for her, sliding a spoon in and passing it to her carefully so as not to burn her or himself. “Be careful now, m’lady, it’s bloody hot.”

“Thank you,” she says, taking the bowl from his hands and resting it in her lap. “I hate to intrude, but what are you doing camping out here? Are you not city guard?” “I am.” He shrugs and drags the spoon back and forth through his bowl. “But I’m on a bit of an adventure, you could say.”

“An adventure?” her gaze flits up from the contents on her spoon to eye the younger man from under her lifted brow. “Yes, m’lady. I’m riding with a captain.” Her smile grows, lighting up her eyes. “Ah, a captain. You’d do well to be on your best behavior, I hear they can be quite gruff.” Huffing out a laugh, he blows the steam away from the stew on his spoon. “I’m aware.” “And would this captain you’re riding with by any chance have a name?” 

“Price.” With one name alone given, Garrick watches as dimples in her cheeks grow more prominent, a rosy hue climbing up to sweep across the apples of them. In the firelight her hazel depths sparkle and dance, the amber in her irises flaring with the heat of the flame. “And yours, m’lady?”

“Rory.”

A grin sweeps across his face, pulling at the faint scar on his cheek. “Don’t think I’ve ever heard of a woman by that name before.” That soft laugh rises out of her once more as she replies, “My mother was a rare breed, enjoyed unique names.”

“Well, it’s lovely all the same.” He bows his head politely, keeping his dark stare set on her. “Sgt. Garrick, at your service.” “Nice to meet you, Sergeant.” “Speaking of Price, he’s gone missing –”

“I’m sure he’ll be back by the ‘morrow,” she interrupts, her words spoken in a rush as if trying to divert him.

He scratches at the back of his neck and looks around, he doubts that Price would much appreciate having strangers stay at their camp and eat their food but he can’t help but feel the need to care for this woman who seemingly appeared from thin air. “Perhaps you’d like a place to stay for the night? You could camp here and then head out with your, uh, mate there,” he says, nodding in the direction of the bear still sniffing around her, “After some rest.”

“Much obliged.” She looks over her shoulder back at the barn. “Perhaps the barn, where you found me?” “Ah, yeah… shouldn’t be a problem.” Hopefully Price doesn’t stumble in and wake the bloody bear, he thinks to himself. 

Pausing, he takes a moment to observe Rory. The way the light hit and created an aura around her, an effulgent halo encompassing the shape the maker had sculpted. Enraptured with her. A dreamy-eyed gaze roaming over her features before once more settling on the oversized tunic, cinched tight around her waist with a leather belt.

“M’lady… I noticed you’re wearing the Captain’s clothes…”

Her eyes lift to stare back at him, trapping him once more. “Am I?”

“Well, that’s certainly his cloak you have on,” he said with a smirk. “If he’d like it back, he need only ask. You can direct him towards me, when needed, I’m sure.”

His brow knots together faintly, his jaw working as he muses, “You’re a bit of an oddity, Rory.”

Giving him a knowing smile, she hums, “Indeed I am.”

When their dishes were cleared, Garrick took them over to the stream and rinsed them in the cool running water. The fireflies sparkling like pixies as they hovered atop the ripples. Peering back over his shoulder, he watched as the bear came to settle by her side, lumbering to rest its head in her lap like a family dog. 

Strange, very strange. He sets the dishes by the fire and stretches his back with a yawn. “Perhaps we should think about turning in. The morning comes early.” “Tis true,” Rory agrees and stands up, gently lifting the bear’s head with her lap. Its stare never leaves her, as constant as its proximity to her. “To bed. Goodnight, Sergeant.” “Goodnight, m’lady. I’ll see you at the sunrise.”

She smiles and nods, but doesn’t truly confirm as she leads the bear away from the fire pit and towards the teetering barn, closing the door behind her and the grizzly who refuses to part from her side. Garrick moves to the old stables, lying down in the straw, wrapping his cloak around himself to stave off the chill of night. He tries to close his eyes and rest but curiosity gets the better of him. Sleep won’t come until he’s the wiser. 

Stealthily, he makes his way to the barn, moving with the steady patience of a thief. One foot in front of the other, careful with the route he takes so as not to displace a stone or step on a twig to alert anyone of his presence. He finds a hole worn through the wood of the old barn and peeps through, spying the rare beauty who fortune decided to deliver to him. Down on the hay, curled up beside the wild creature, she rests. Her long fingers stroke the animal tenderly, whispering to it in words he can’t make out. This gentle woman somehow manages to calm the heart of the beast in her presence, its chest slowly rising and falling in time with hers in low growls. Her eyes closing with a flutter of lashes, her figure nestled up against dark fur, inches away from a jaw that could crush her in a moment, claws that could tear her asunder, and yet she is entirely at peace – they both are, falling into slumber. 

He can't understand it. It's foreign, inconceivable. Something out of myth or legend – the beauty stilling the untamed beast – and here it is laid out before him in tableau, evidence unable to be denied.  Garrick slowly backs away, leaving the pair to their rest before returning to his own bedding for the night. Confusion remains settled over him like a blanket, wrapping him tight in questions that circulate his mind. The night wind whispering answers to him that he cannot translate. His gut echoes the initial instinct of something not being right, things out of place, but he cannot determine the why or the how. He only knows he has stumbled upon something far larger than himself. He was on more of an adventure than he had first believed possible.

cod taglist [opt in/out]: @imagoddamnonionmason @writeforfandoms @efingart @alypink @harmonyowl

@g0dspeeed @confidentandgood @loverofeverything41438 @simplegenius042 @voidika

@quantum-lover @strangefable @kyberinfinitygems @rc-dragons @direwombat

@peachiicherries @la-grosse-patate @josephseedismyfather @statichvm @clicheantagonist

@tommyarashikage @aceghosts @inafieldofdaisies @raresvtm @cloudofbutterflies92

@justasmolbard @finding-comfort-in-rain @cassietrn @carlosoliveiraa @imogenkol

@theelderhazelnut

[podcast-official]

let vespa ilkay say fuck

[smidgen-of-hotboy]

Our Angel of Brahma, pt. ix

Travelers. Friends. Mutuals. @ceaseless-watchers-special-girl @ananxiousgenz @the-private-eye @demonic-panini @gwenlena

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING BEGINS. MOTHERLY VOICE: I finally got a moment to myself thanks to Eber and Camilla… Thank the Goddess… I don’t know what I would be doing without them. (THE PERSON SIGHS) Where do I begin? I guess… my name would be a good start.  (CLEARING THEIR THROAT) My name is Eevee Bell, and I am one of three to four dozen Dome Wardens on Brahma. Our duty is to perform routine maintenance on the planet’s Dome, track incoming and outgoing shuttles and ships, and monitor Brahma’s severe weather outside the Dome. I love my job. I think I do my job very well. From what I’ve heard about other planets, they have robotics and computers to do this job now. Artificial intelligence that the Solar Planets spent a fortune to perfect. Of course just like with everything else though, Brahma gets left behind in the dust. (EEVEE CHUCKLES UNDER HER BREATH) EEVEE: Goddess bless our savior New Kinshasa. (EEVEE LAUGHS A BIT HARSHER) EEVEE: What happened to us though has been brewing under their noses for some time now. I guess it was only a matter of time before… something was done.  To be honest I’m still not entirely sure what did happen. I know that our alarms went off when the Reactor Core was removed, and I know they stopped going off when the Core was put back. I know that the Chief Constable called all of our stations, and ordered us to go home. I know that we have not gone back to our stations for nearly ten days. I know that if we don’t accept any imports within the next seven days Brahma will begin to suffer. And if we fall, New Kinshasa falls with us.  Cyrus called me while I was rushing to get home to Baird. He asked me how much I knew and after I told him, I asked how much he knew. He said it would be better if he came to speak to me in person. He lives across town with Iris. I told him it wouldn’t be wise to meet up so late, especially with a curfew in place. He disagreed, but I talked enough sense into him that he waited until morning to catch a tram over here to the apartments.  Baird was not enthused to see him. He was rather… indifferent, actually. I know it hurt Cyrus’ feelings, I do plan on talking about it with Baird when I can, but it’s so hard to talk about anything seriously right now. I’d rather keep things as light-hearted as possible.  I sent Baird over to Camilla and Eber’s apartment while I had tea with Cyrus. He looked so worried. He asked me if I saw the Chief Constable’s broadcast about the Revolutionary, Peter Nureyev. I have. I watched it with Baird the night before after I got home from my post. Cyrus said that he doesn’t know of any Peter Nureyevs in any of his revolution circles.  He surprised me by asking me for my thoughts about the Constable they allegedly found murdered by the Revolutionary. I didn’t at the time, and I still don’t now. Cyrus said that he has reason to believe that part was a lie. He doesn’t believe the Revolutionary killed a Constable. He thinks it might be an elaborate lie or cover-up for some more vain truth. (EEVEE INHALES SHARPLY) The revolutionaries are holding a meeting tonight. Cyrus invited me to come. He wants me there. I don’t want to get in trouble, but… I need to keep Cyrus and Baird safe. And by extension, it’s my job to keep Brahma safe.  SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS: EEVEE:  What the fuck! NEW VOICE:  What are you doing? EEVEE:  What am I doing I’m recording you idiot! Cyrus, don’t you see? If what was discussed tonight has any truth to it, New Kinshasa isn’t going to let any of this get out. More than– I bet you my next paycheck that Dark Matters is going to play a role in covering it all up! (CYRUS TRIES TO SHUSH EEVEE) CYRUS:  Alright, alright– you have a point. Keep your voice down alright the streets have ears… You really hope your little comms though is going to play a role in– This? EEVEE: Mark my word, I think my little comms will outlive both of us. If Baird’s lucky it will outlive them.  (CYRUS GROANS. EEVEE GIGGLES) Okay, okay… I attended the meeting– CYRUS: The book club. We went to a late-night book club meeting. What? Don’t give me that look. Plausible deniability, Eve. EEVEE:  Right. The Book Club. We attended Book Club and talked about the climax of a war story. In the story, the main character kills a man with radical ideas to overthrow their government. The man he killed was not popular amongst the rebels. In theory, they should have agreed with him. CYRUS: In practice, however, the rebels do not condone murdering hundreds of thousands of people. Thus the whole unpopular amongst the rebels.  EEVEE:  Of course, word got out about the man’s death, and to cover it up, the government claimed him as an Enforcer. And they were getting away with it because the last clothes the man was found in was a stolen Enforcer uniform.  I don’t know if I believe the rebel or the government’s of the story– CYRUS: Eve– EEVEE: But! But. But I do believe that it was the right call for the rebels to sit back and wait for information to trickle out to them slowly… I think I’ll need to attend the next meeting to really make sure I understand what I’m getting myself into. Oh– I’m so tired. Can we discuss all this in the morning? With hopefully less ears listening in? (CYRUS HUMS AFFIRMATIVELY) CYRUS: I’ll even let you sleep in if you let me crash on your couch.  EEVEE: Of course, I wouldn’t make you walk across town while already breaking our curfew.  CYRUS: Thanks, Eve.  (LONG PAUSE) Baird’s not going to be mad to see me, is he? EEVEE: This late at night? I doubt it. If anything he’s staying over at that Spade’s apartment probably fast asleep with Charlie. Oh, they’re so sweet together. I went to say good night to them one evening and I couldn’t kiss Baird’s head because Charlie had a death grip on his shoulders. He's always polite and entertains all of Baird’s whims… I wish you were around more to see it happen. CYRUS:  You and I both know why that can’t happen.  (BOTH OF THEM SIGH) EEVEE: You know he’s only so pouty around you because you and I split up, right? He just wants us all together again. Like a proper family. CYRUS: We are a proper family. Mom who works too hard, dad who left to get milk and never came back– see? Proper family. (EEVEE LAUGHS CAUSING CYRUS TO LAUGH) UNFAMILIAR VOICE: Hey, state your business and show your credentials. CYRUS: Shit, Constables. Run Eve! SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS. 

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. RECORDING BEGINS.  (EEVEE WHISPERS) EEVEE: Cyrus and I got away from the Constables last week perfectly fine. This week on Brahma: we went to another revolution meeting. A few old timers took roll call and one of them said he had reason to believe that the person the Angel of Brahma killed was one of theirs. A man who wasn’t the least bit popular in any particular revolutionary circle. Apparently, he wanted to drop New Kinshasa out of the sky and saw it perfectly fit to kill all of Brahma in the process.  (EEVEE SCOFFS) The nerve of some people. No one at the meeting could remember his name though, and no one still knows who Peter Nureyev is outside of the photos projected on every billboard on the planet now. He looks so young. Those dark and haunting eyes and sharp teeth. I find it hard to believe that he’s just a teenager. But– he is.  I’m trying to keep my voice down right now because Baird is asleep. The meeting was held before curfew this time so Cyrus went home to Iris and I walked alone back to the apartment. Eber was waiting for me just outside and before I could say hello he was dragging me down the halls to Hank’s apartment. His dog Missy was sprawled out on the sofa but Hank, Camilla, and Josie were all gathered around the dinner table. Mrs. Darius was upstairs with Talia, Charlie, and Baird. I sat down and told them everything I could.  The revolutionaries wouldn’t let me record anything with my comms during the meeting, but there wasn’t much that I think needed to be recorded. Just talk about who was storing what, who was leaving their doors open to help others. There was a lot of talk about going on strike. Either food or labor. They want to send a message to New Kinshasa. I don’t think I can afford to do much of anything. Me and the other Dome Wardens just went back to work two days ago, we are working through a backlog of off-planet imports and exports still. If I strike alone I’ll just be fired. If all the Wardens strike, then the Constables will take over and that will lead to certain catastrophe. And if I stop eating then Baird will stop eating and he’s already so… short.  Oh– I wish I got a chance to talk to Cyrus before we went our separate ways. He’d help me think of some way I can help. Better yet, he’d probably be able to give the others here at the apartments the answers they wanted from me. Hank didn’t say anything other than telling us to get out. Eber, Camilla, Josie, and I were silent on the walk upstairs. The kids were delighted to see us. Eber walked Talia back down to Hank, Josie was trying to fill in Mrs. Darius, and Camilla and I watched the boys play some sort of game where they kept pinching each other and trying to not shriek? I think that was the objective? Children’s games used to be much less violent when I was that age. I remember when– BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Memma? EEVEE: Bairdy! What are you doing awake? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): I couldn’t sleep. You were being too loud.  (EEVEE TSKS) EEVEE: Then let’s put you back to bed alright baby? C’mon. I’ll even sing for you if you’d like.  SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS. EEVEE: I have either made the best decision of the revolution that will turn the tides in favor of Brahma, or the worst mistake of my life.  I told the old-timers at this past meeting that I work as a Dome Warden, and that a few of my colleagues seemed interested in joining the rebellion but were uncertain on how to go about it. The old-timers were delighted for a number of reasons and had drawn the same conclusion that I had a few weeks ago when a labor strike was first brought up. They think it would be very good if I was able to get some of the other Wardens on board with the revolution.  Cyrus was very quiet during the meeting. I asked him before we left if he had any opinions he was holding back, and all he said was to trust my gut. So… I trusted my gut. I told the other Wardens at my post about the meetings. I told them about going on strike. A few seemed skeptical. Others wanted to know when the next meeting was. I’m going to contact Cyrus and get him to help me get the others to the next meeting.  I hope… this wasn’t a mistake. I guess time will only tell. SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS.

SOUND: COMMS BEEPS AGAIN. NEW RECORDING BEGINS. EEVEE: –you turned it on. Good job, baby. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Mom, why are you showing me how to use your comms? Is something going to happen to us? Is something bad going to happen to you?  EEVEE: What? Oh no, baby. Nothing is going to happen to me. I just think you would find more use out of my comms than I would. Look, since you got it to record you can start recording all those little songs you like to sing. Or maybe you can get Charlie to record a story for you.  BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): But Mom, I like your singing and your stories more. Will you sing for me? And tell me a story tonight? EEVEE: Absolutely not. You get one or the other. Take your pick. And whatever you don’t choose, you have to give to me.  (BAIRD POUTS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Fine… I want a story from you, and then I’ll give you a song. EEVEE:  Good choice, Bairdy. What kind of story would you like? (BAIRD HUMS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): I want a story about Brahma.  EEVEE: A story about Brahma? Well… there once was a boy born on Brahma with nothing. Not even a name. He grew up just like everyone else, hungry for more. More food, more freedom, more time. The boy followed a man who dreamed of dropping the New Kinshasa on top of the planet.  The boy was very tired. Tired of being poor, tired of being hungry, tired of being alone. But he knew, that if he let that man drop New Kinshasa out of the sky, he would never be able to forgive himself. Brahma is his home. He looked down at Brahma from up high, and saw them: his people.  Starving young faces just like his looked up to the sky and stared back at the city as it trembled. The boy had the power at his fingertips to stop a tragedy.  This is it. The people thought. This is how we go out. Not with the big bang, but crushed under the heel of our jailor.  The boy heard their thoughts. He felt a rush of adrenaline and stopped the man from getting away. The city of New Kinshasa never fell out of the sky that day. The people were ordered to retreat to their homes. But that evening, everyone heard about the great threat against the Guardian Angel System. And everyone learned the name Peter Nureyev. And for the first time in the last half-century, hope bloomed on Brahma. The Boy, The Legend, The Angel of Brahma.  BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): That’s not a story Memma, that’s history.  EEVEE: And what is history but a story we have to learn from? Now, I believe you owe me a song. (BAIRD GROANS AND HUFFS) BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Fine… (BAIRD TAKES A DEEP BREATH AND HUMS. THE SOUND GETS CLEARER LIKE HE’S BROUGHT THE COMMS CLOSER) My angel, I must ask you keep singing for me.  How sweet your tune, like a songbird at noon.  What a lovely trill, it makes me feel ill. O’ My heart overflows, I could never let go.  Like chimes in the wind, it must be destined.  I’ll find my way home, with your voice I’ll never be alone. Happy? (EEVEE SNIFFLES) EEVEE: Very. Thank you, Baird. That was beautiful.  (FABRIC RUSTLES, BOTH BAIRD AND EEVEE HUM) Promise me you’ll never stop singing baby. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Of course, Memma. I don’t think I could even if I tried.  EEVEE: Good. Now– (EEVEE PRESSES A KISS TO BAIRD’S HEAD) Get some sleep. Okay? We have a long day tomorrow. And Bairdy? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Yes, Mom? EEVEE: You know that I love you, right? BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): To the moons and back, yeah… Mom you promised nothing bad was going to happen to you.  EEVEE:  And nothing will. Good night, Baird.  BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Night Mom.  SOUND: DOOR CLOSING. BAIRD (FUTURE REVOLUTIONARY): Which button was it to end the recording? Was it this o– SOUND: COMMS BEEPS. RECORDING ENDS. 

- EEVEE BELL. BAIRD BELL. must contact Frannie’s friend about both of those names. - Dome Wardens are indeed an old, out of date job. Eve is right, they’ve been replaced with robots. It’s actually kinda scary how right she was about things. About that, about Dark Matters probably covering everything up with New Kinshasa. - Cyrus and Eve sound so fun together. I can see why they got married and had a kid together. - Bairdy and Memma… right up there with Charls and Dearest. - Oh Baird, he was 12 when these recordings were made. 12. Just almost a teenager, not quite. Almost too old to be called a baby. - Eve loved Baird so much. She reminds me of my mother a bit. And she knew exactly what she was doing tucking Baird into bed that final time. There’s no doubt in my mind this is the last recording with her in it. She was taken away after this and never came back. The Dome Wardens did go on strike at some point according to Baird in other recordings, so did someone snitch to a Constable? Did she the Constable that almost caught her and Cyrus track her down? - I think that’s the most frustrating part of my job. No matter how much I dig and research, there are some things that will be lost to me forever.

[junoverseposting]

Little Thief is BACK!!! This chapter took a LOT longer than initially anticipated, but it came out all the better for it. I hope you all enjoy

[2flyingfoxes]

If you could only see the beast you've made of me I held it in but now it seems you've set it running free

Howl by Florence + The Machine

Art for chapter 8 of Nike, who hesitates.

Guache on paper, touched up digitally. (I've been playing a lot of Disco Elysium lately, can you tell?)

[bamfwizard]

"Peter Nureyev and the Angel of Brahma" is interesting to me. obv it refers to the Guardian Angel System, but I think the cooler thing is that Peter Nureyev IS the Angel of Brahma.

Peter Nureyev, 17, serving the one man he thought he could trust. The man who aimed to bring down a city to prove a point to leaders of an arrogant nation. Peter Nureyev, the messenger who delivered the warning that there would be dire consequences for the actions of arrogant humans. Like an angel serving a vengeful God. It's so biblical and poetic I could die. The fact that Peter never brought justice or followed through on his threats because he's always an angel, never a God. And now he's fallen in a sense.

Peter Nureyev, the Angel of Brahma. Has a nice ring to it.

[pippalovestunabrick]

Post-Canon // Post-Episode s05 e27-28 Juno Steel and the Case Closed // Epilogue // Relationship Discussions // Personal Growth // Getting Back Together // Relationship Negotiation // POV Peter Nureyev // Emotional Baggage // Angst and Fluff and Smut // Reunion Sex // Junoverse | Juno Steel Universe // the Nureyev pov epilogue your heart needs // Case Closed good vibes for our thief // they talk they drink tea they giggle they fuck they give us some closure // 15,240 words // EXPLICIT rating

Summary:

There was a time he hated Hyperion City and all its memories, but it seemed oddly precious to Nureyev now. How could he hate something that was such a pivotal part of Juno Steel? He turned the corner and the block that opened up before him had changed since he saw it last, and yet was immediately recognizable. The floating billboards advertised different brands of swill, but the building he was looking for appeared more or less unchanged. His eyes trailed up the rows of windows automatically, locating the correct one, but the neon reflections hid whatever – whoever – may or may not be inside. It was later in the evening than he had planned, thanks to interplanetary time conversions and spaceport delays, and as the building loomed closer he wondered if it was too late. Too late in the evening, that is. He… he had to believe it was not too late. ~~~ The Nureyev pov nsfw feelsy epilogue you've been longing for

Notes:

I listened to Case Closed, I wept happy tears. I lived with the open ending for two days. I started writing a 'short little one shot' and six days later I had 15k words. Honestly this fic means so much to me and I didn't fully start accepting that the show was over until it was written. I hope it can give you some of the closure it gave me and a whole lot of feels.

[justablah56]

you guys i finally caught up on juno steel and literally what the fuck oh my god . finished the latest episode and i dont even know what to do anymore . what the fuck . those crazy fucking bitches . oh my god .