#and the PAIN i felt as i deleted

[linddzz]

none of you know the strength it takes to not just say fuck the pacing of this entire fic and give in to the urge to write ten pages of Hob and Matthew losing the braincell as soon as they start hanging out

[cowardlykrow]

He’s a horrible bastard but also what if I made him sooo small

[andbumbl3bee]

[humbuns]

what will i be without this tsumugi and his stupid big button

[commitmentissue]

cheyenne has aged into an adult and gained a new haircut to better fit her Professional vibe

[figofswords]

the post grad why did i get an art degree what am i even doing what do i want in life where am i going crisis has finally hit i want to. lie down in the dirt. or something

[suddencolds]

vent//

[waldwasser]

>_<

[greghatecrimes]

what i should've done: asked to use sick hours at like 3pm. and admitted that i need help with my work, which is more work than one person by themselves was ever intended to do at this job.

what i did: commit to working multiple more hours tonight to get shit done even though i feel like ASS

lesson? learned. hotel? trivago.

[yuriyuruandyuraart]

yeah i'm fine it's cool<3

[m0thisonfire]

Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

Devanii deals and has dealt with many things in his life. And sometimes he prefers getting drunk in his nightclub to relax and forget about the waiting tragedies on Earth's doorstep. The last thing he expects is his 'lover' to show up in his office one night with a request. Devanii does not appreciate this request.

Angst. Lots of sad lore. Cursing, lovers to enemies but still lovers, love being intertwined with war. Trauma. Lots of trauma mentioned.

The Dimonique was a safe place for dragons, magic users, and normal humans alike. Supposed to be, anyway. The huge, futuristic downtown building in Tokyo was extravagant and large for a nightclub, with multiple bars in multiple themed and neon lit rooms. The suites it had on topmost floors were lavish and designed for comfort. The staff were decent, it was ensured the guests, at least the human ones, were safe, and the liquor and food were always stocked. It was Devanii's pride and joy, the one place in the universe he could retreat to and allow himself a night of peace to wallow.

His office and penthouse, located on the top floor, were where he hid away when he wasn't being pulled away to deal with Outbreaks or hunt down ancient artifacts to fight the Hive. Or deal with the Citadel.

This thought made Devanii scowl as he drank his beverage, the burning liquor soothing him as a distraction from his tempered thoughts as he reclined back in his office chair. His long finned tail flicked from side to side, scratching over the black carpet as it slid across it. If his old caretakers saw him now, they'd have an aneurysm. He could hear them now, even after thousands of years.

'No claws on the table!'

'Sit up straight! How unbecoming for an Heir!'

'Such shameful behavior! Your Bane and Bormah would be appalled!'

A grunt escaped the violet dragon as he squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the old manners that were beaten into his head as a whelp and focusing on the steady thrum of music beating through the building. Electronic music, dubstep, Nightcore, sometimes. That was rare, and only because Connie would beg him to play it when she visited -He wondered where the human kid was now. Probably at home or in school- Currently a more relaxing electronic beat was playing, making him hum. Soothing, slow, tickled the brain right.

He eased more into his buzz as he listened, humming along as he relaxed. However, his relaxation was interrupted by his radio on his desk, one of his bouncers tuning in and asking almost hesitantly: "Eh, boss?"

Devanii rolled his eyes hard, moving his head with it as he pulled his feet off the desk and scooted closer, prepared for some new nonsense as he pressed a button and asked politely, if not impatiently, "Yes, what is it?"

"There's a guy here who wants to speak to you. He isn't very happy."

The dragon narrowed his eyes, curling his lip as he made an agitated gesture, despite knowing the bouncer couldn't see it, "A guy. What does that mean, a guy? Just some guy? What, they expect to see me, despite me being the owner of-"

The radio clicked for a moment, the sound of a struggle causing Devanii's ears to flick in surprise as he leaned back, his eyebrows knitting together as his eyes widened. Then his ears dropped as he gulped, hearing a familiar voice seethe through the radio feedback: "Devanii Hellfrost, let me up, or I swear to The Eight I am going to force my way up. And it is going to be very bloody."

Fuck, shit, balls and cock.

Devanii blinked and smiled nervously, forcing his tone to a cheerier one as he attempted to hide his nerves, "Sybil! Love! How unexpected! Why didn't you call? I would have made an appointment-"

"I literally do not have the time for your shit right now, Hellfrost. Let me up."

The dragon's expression fell as he made a sound between a groan and a sigh, managing through a voice crack as he massaged his temple, "Yeah. Yeah, come on up."

Shit.

What in Akatosh's name was Sybil doing so far from the Citadel? That was all the way in the Andromida...

Devanii groaned as he poured himself another drink. Rather, he refilled the glass and thought better of it, pushing it back to the other end where he knew Sybil could reach before taking a swig out of the bottle itself.

He stood, glancing around his dark office to make sure it was at least neat. It was dim, the only light illuminating it being the neon violet and light blue lights he had hand-picked to reflect his color scheme. The walls were black, the carpet was black and thankfully clean as usual, his black desk doubled as a high end computer system, and the huge window behind him made for a lovely Tokyo backdrop. He sighed, examining the dark leather couch one side and the built in bar in the other, deeming both acceptable before the elevator dinged.

Forcing a charming grin onto his face, Devanii casually leaned on his desk, cranking his smolder expression onto the highest setting as he greeted, "'Ello again, Sybil. How can I-"

He shut himself up seeing the doors open to reveal the High Elf standing in with his arms crossed and a pissed expression on his face. Then again, when didn't High Elves look pissed. The elf strode forward, and it took all of the dragon's willpower not to retreat at his approach.

Sybil stopped at the desk and put his arms at his sides, clenching his fists as he glared daggers at Devanii. The larger male took the opportunity to give a quick look over of the elf's appearance, if only to ensure he didn't massacre any staff on the lower floors.

Same black light armor, same emblem and sleek design, no blood, thank the Eight. Sybil looked as he usually did, his long blonde hair pushed back as usual and meticulously neat. He had the same light gold skin, and those gorgeous green eyes that still managed to make Devanii's heart skip a beat despite the murderous glare-

"... If you're done staring at me, we need to talk."

And there it was. Devanii's soul promptly left his body for a split second before returning, the dragon asking curiously despite the sudden tightness in his chest, "Of course, darling. What happened? I doubt you stopped by from Andromida for a simple visit."

Devanii hated how true that actually was. For a moment, an uncomfortable expression passed over Sybil's glowering features. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, making Devanii internally sigh. Okay, yeah, so something was definitely wrong if Sybil was visibly nervous. Great.

"... It's the Hive. Xin."

The tight feeling grew stronger, Devanii's tail now nervously twitching as he asked tensely, "Yeees? What about them?"

Taking a deep breath, Sybil took the filled glass of whiskey and took a drink -Devanii stomped down the smug feeling of 'Called it'-, and began with a much more hesitant and nervous tone than his confident scathing one, "... The... Counsel has come to a decision. They're willing to remove your bounty if you renounce your old title and return to our ranks and fight for us again."

Silence filled the office. Devanii stared at Sybil for a good long moment. Renounce his old title? Did he mean the title Devanii had held onto with both wings and claws through thousands of years with all his might? The only thing he had left of Esteria and Nirn? His, their homeworlds? His blood status, his birthright?

"... You want me," Devanii started slowly, in a dangerously soft tone, "To renounce my position as King of Dragons. So I can keep the people, who outlawed me and hunted me down for thousands of years, safe from the creatures and deity that had tortured me in Oblivion. For thousands of years. Not to mention the fact your fleet has been trying and failing to harvest this solar system's sun the last year and a half."

At least Sybil had the decency to look ashamed. He stared down in shame, his ears drooping as he sighed and began, "Devanii-"

"Get out."

Saying the words felt like tearing out his own heart. He loved Sybil more than life itself. He was his everything, one of his very purposes for existence. But this was not the night. Not with Devanii half-buzzed and already irritated from protecting Earth. From the Citadel. From Xin. From the Hive. From Sybil himself. Not tonight. Not ever.

The High Elf sighed and took the glass to take another gulp, nearly draining it before he set it down and sat in the chair beside him. He laced his fingers together and rested his head on them, leaning on the desk looking like he was carrying the weight of the world. So to speak, he technically was.

Devanii wanted to be angry. He really did. How fucking dare he?

No, how fucking dare the Citadel?

They knew Devanii would never hurt Sybil. If it had been any other commander, they would have already be a burnt ice statue that Devanii would have been preparing to send back to the Counsel as a 'Fuck you' gift.

But not Sybil. Gods, please, anyone but Sybil.

Devanii sighed and collapsed back in his own chair, leaning back to glare at the ceiling. Fucking perfect. Great.

The dragon made a pained sound, covering his face as he increased the volume, drawing out a long angry groan before he growled, whined rather, "Why do you do this to me, Sybil? Why? Why can never be a simple fucking visit with you?"

Sybil pulled back to slam his fist against the table, snarling with tears in his eyes, "You don't think I hate this as well!? How horrible I feel about asking this of you!? You know I can't-"

"But you could." Devanii calmly refuted, lowering his hands slowly as he sighed. His voice didn't reflect his rage, his disappointment, his sorrow. "You could and you know it."

Sybil glowered at the violet dragon, growling out through grit teeth, "But the Emperor-"

"Fuck your Emperor." Devanii interrupted, annoyed and tired, "Fuck your Counsel. Fuck your Citadel. Fuck that fucked up society that harvests suns and turns them into batteries because that damn mega system isn't self sufficient. I said I was done with it. So I'm done."

They glared at each other for a long moment, neither backing down. Then Sybil dropped his head, sighing in defeat, "... Well, I tried. Told them it was a waste of time."

The elf looked up to see the dragon staring at him disappointed, his expression one of pure contempt as he smoothly acknowledged, "Good to know you at least knew I would never agree."

"Of course." Sybil responded, sitting up a bit more, "I know you."

Sighing, Devanii pinched the bridge of his nose. Then he agreed, "Yes. Yes, you do know me."

Gods, what happened to us?

The thought twisted Devanii's insides up in knots. Because he knew the answer.

Their homeworlds were overrun by Xin and the Hive before either of them could fulfill their roles. The Citadel picked Sybil up while Devanii was literally dragged to Hell. Sybil rose through the ranks and became the Emperor's favorite. When Devanii escaped Oblivion, he had been vouched for by the elf. And the dragon had been too ecstatic seeing his lover alive after years of uncertainty and suffering, going along with system wide blackouts until the initial relief wore off. Then he defected. And Sybil did not. He knew what happened.

Sybil had a taste of uncontested power after losing the one purpose he had been born for, fighting for. And Devanii...

Well, he went and made his own purpose.

He growled, covering his face again as they sat in silence.

Another long sigh broke the suffocating quite as Devanii managed quietly, "I take it you're leaving soon?"

"My ship is lingering in the atmosphere," Sybil answered in a soft voice, "They're waiting, but we're in no rush. Doubt they're going to be looking forward to going back without you on board..."

Yeah, the Citadel was definitely going to be pissed Devanii refused them again...

Frowning, he nodded, taking the bottle on the desk and refilling Sybil's glass. The high elf didn't say anything else, nodding in thanks as he sipped the burning liquid, Devanii taking a drink himself as they sat together.

Then, quietly, "... You and your crew are... Welcome to stay. For as long as you need before you're called back."

Sybil glanced up in surprise. But nodded again, already less tense. Not relaxed, but definitely not on edge anymore. Tired, Devanii acknowledged with a pain in his chest. Tch. Fucking sadistic Emperor and his brainwashing bullshit...

Devanii watched Sybil stand, groaning softly as he did as he decided, "I'm... Going to let the fleet know. Let them decide to come down on their own."

The dragon nodded, watching his mate leave with a growing emptiness in his chest. Every time, it was the same. And he hated it.

But Sybil stopped at the elevator, his hand hovering over the button before he turned and shot a look over his shoulder. Devanii knew that look. It didn't mean he wasted any time standing immediately and rounding the desk to close the distance. He could see the relief in Sybil's posture, felt it as he embraced him up and held him close, his tail curling around him protectively. Despite everything, Devanii still loved this fool. Had for thousands of years. Would until the eventual heat death of the universe.

This will end, eventually, he silently promised. Eventually, they could simply be again without any expectations, any obstacles or threats.

He had to believe that.

He did believe it. Wanted to.

Letting Sybil pull away to cradle his face and pull him down for a desperate kiss, Devanii closed his eyes, and promised countless promises. Vengeance for them, for Sybil, for their worlds, for the lost.

For the moment, all that mattered was the night and the man in his arms.

[reliccipher]

just ended up sending in feedback about the layout to support. But I have to say it here too, this new layout is such a pain in the ass to figure out. I hated twitter's layout for the same reason, its so annoying to use and everything feels so cluttered and squished in and distracting... it's actually headache inducing.

I really wish I had the option to switch back. I wish there was an option to CHOOSE between the two layouts. I wish I had the choice to opt out of "testing" this thing.

"If it ain't broke, don't fix it" really should have been brought up before they even tried making this. It was fine before, and now the new layout is completely different and frustrating when it didn't need to be.

If I wanted Twitter's layout, I would have just fucking gone to Twitter.

[insane-weasel]

I think as writers we should hold funerals for our WIPs more often.

Dearly beloved, gather us here today where this fic of some middle-aged man getting rawdogged and this other fanfic about the importance of friendship are laid to rest, because the author got really distracted playing that new video game.

We celebrate what could have been, cut-and-recycle those really good lines or ideas, because I swear I'm going to use them, I swear! And drag this poor document not to the great recycling bin or trash, but to the "graveyard" folder because sometimes I like to commune with the dead.

[sankttealeaf]

health update: i have hemorrhagic cysts on my left ovary :) so thank you to the doctor who said it was just painful periods!! so fun!!

[shijas]

:/

[kavehater]

I cannot fathom the level of self importance some people must have to behave this way