#second of all kisses to julian for motivating me to finish this and helping me post it

[willsilvertongue]

lyra + goodness

[gender-snatched]

Hey so I want you to tell me every single thing I could possibly want to know about Star Trek

OK YEAH. under cut because. well. you know me.

So, in the 60s, Gene Roddenberry started a sci-fi series. This was Star Trek. It's about a starship named the USS Enterprise, which is part of Starfleet. Starfleet is the exploration branch of the Federation of Planets, which is basically the UN of the galaxy. The USS Enterprise is, at the time of the show, captained by James T Kirk, although it was previously captained by Christopher Pike. Kirk is an extremely traumatized nerd who is doing what he really wants to do. His First Officer (and Science Officer) is Mr. Spock, the only alien on the ship. Spock is (half) Vulcan, a species that values "logic" above all, yadda yadda. His Chief Medical Officer is his bestie, Leonard "Bones" McCoy.

He also has: Lieutenant Nyota Uhura (Communications Officer), Lt. Commander Montgomery "Scotty" Scott (Chief Engineer), Lt Hikaru Sulu (Navigator), Nurse Christine Chapel (Nurse), Ensign Pavel Chekov (pilot [?]), and Yeoman Janice Rand (Yeoman)

All these characters are MASSIVELY important for the time. Uhura was a black woman in a major position on the ship; Chapel, Uhura, and Rand were all strong women; Chekov was Russian during the Cold War; Spock was a metaphor for xenophobia and was also Jewish; Sulu was Asian in a time where anti-Asian racism was super high (and his actor, George Takei was Japanese and was raised in internment camps).

Importantly, Star Trek was so so amazing for a show from the sixties. It had one of the first interracial kisses on TV, and had multiple episodes with all sorts of metaphors. Yes, it had problems (misogyny and a fair bit of racism), but for the sixties? It was so incredible.

And the second season started with the episode "Amok Time", which was written by a queer man and focuses on the idea of Spock going into heat and going to die if he doesn't fuck. Somehow, writhing in the sand with Kirk cures this.

And that's the start of slash culture! Almost all slash culture is the fault of either Star Trek or X Files.

So Star Trek: The Original Series got 3 seasons and became a cult classic. And then in the 80s (?) it got the movies. The Motion Picture (bad, but tolerable), Wrath of Khan (pretty damn good), Search for Spock (bad and questionable), Voyage Home (aka The One With the Whales and fucking AWESOME), and then two others I didn't care about whatsoever.

And then, after the movies, The Next Generation came out. It takes place a bit later, with better cameras and effects. The spaceship is smoother, and it's also incredible. Its cast includes: Captain Jean Luc Picard, First Officer William Riker, Chief Medical Officer Beverly Crusher, Chief Engineer Geordi La Forge, Lt Cmr Data (what is his role I can't remember), Security Officer Tash Yar, Worf (also can't remember his role), Dr. Pulaski (I don't like her), Guinan (bartender), and Wesley Crusher.

Terrible confession, but I only finished TOS. I still know TNG pretty well tho.

After TNG we got: Deep Space Nine (my BELOVED), Voyager (wish I had watched more), Enterprise (good if you ignore the misogyny), and then all the nuTrek I haven't been paying attention to because I can't watch it.

Deep Space Nine is the other one I never finished but know, and it focuses on a space station near the planet Bajor. Bajor just threw off the rule of Cardassia, an empire. The Federation, with questionable motives, is helping them rebuild. They send a captain there, and then a wormhole opens, making the space station super super important. Then a war happens but I didn't reach that.

It focuses on Captain Sisko, his son Jake, his first officer Major Kira Nerys, his CMO Julian Bashir, his science officer Jadzia Dax (trangender worm), his engineer Miles O'Brien, a cop Odo, a bartender Quark, a "simple tailor" (actually an exiled Cardassian spy) Garak, and later, Worf.

It's really good, because while TNG pulls a full utopia, DS9 contradicts it and also has just amazing characters. Shame I didn't finish it before Netflix lost it. It also has the first CANONICALLY bisexual character in Star Trek.

There's a LOT of Trek, and I can probably give vague overviews about all of them and also answer any and all questions about it. Please. Please have questions.

[alecmagnuslwb]

Meet Cute

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Twelve

Read on AO3

Aline Penhallow throws Helen off center. Their entire exchange lasts no more than two minutes after Victor Aldertree is hauled away for his crimes, but it feels significant.

She goes through the motions of telling her story to the proper officials diligently answering their questions and preparing herself for the demotion that’s likely headed her way. She checks in with the others involved in the evening to be certain they’re all right and offers a no holds bar hand of help to Raphael and the other former Downworlders she unknowingly harmed.

The entire time she can’t stop thinking about the way Aline’s eyes had lingered on her though. About the long coat Aline was wearing and the way her high heeled boots made her just a little bit taller than Helen.

Aline is pretty, the kind of pretty that you can’t ignore. The kind that when directed at you sticks and makes you feel special. She’s also kind that much Helen could tell immediately from the way she’d thanked Helen for what she’d done, gone as far to call her brave even for just doing what felt like the right thing to do.

Kind and pretty can be a dangerous combination, often too hard to come by in their world.

The way Aline seemed to get her in just a few short moments, understand her motivations so quickly settles in her chest warmly as she heads to her family’s home after everything’s settled down and she’s been dismissed for the night.

She doesn’t even think about the looming meeting with the Consul, Aline’s mother, she’ll have to have the following day as she journeys home. She just thinks about the way Aline’s visible runes looked against her tan skin.

She walks in the large double doors of the Blackthorn home and heads to the kitchen with a big, no doubt dreamy smile on her face as she recalls the way Aline had looked her up and down before walking away.

She opens the fridge to search for something to eat, the fact she hasn’t had a moment to breathe all day let alone eat hitting her suddenly.

“What are you smiling so much about?” her younger brother Julian says startling her as she shuts the fridge. He’s sitting on the counter legs swinging lightly back and forth with a sketch pad in his lap and a pencil in his hand. It says a lot about the effect that Aline has had on her that she didn’t even see him sitting there.

“I assumed you’d be a bit more distressed looking after the evening I heard you had,” Mark, her older brother, says entering the kitchen. He maneuvers around her retrieving the milk from the fridge, a large bowl, spoon and a family size box of Lucky Charms. Because everything they buy has to be family size with how many of them there are.

He sits at the counter eyeing her for explanation as he pours the milk and cereal into the bowl. Julian looks at her expectantly too, eyebrows raised as he flips the page of his sketchbook to a new fresh page.

She sighs sitting down at the counter pulling Mark’s bowl of cereal to her and effectively stealing it for herself. He makes a small disgruntled noise, but accepts the loss getting another bowl as she fills her brothers in on the events of the past few days.

She tells them about odd little Simon Lewis and the crimes that Victor Aldertree had made her an accomplice to. Her brother’s both reassure her she is not at fault in the events that have occurred, that she just like them is always learning how to navigate and change in the world they were raised in.

She appreciates the sentiment and comforting understanding from them both.

“None of that however explains your big goofy smile,” Julian says when she’s finished her story. He looks down at his sketch book once again pencil shifting over the page in smooth lines.

“Well that was because of what happened after,” she says pausing to consume a giant spoonful of cereal as Mark pours his second bowl. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, it’s not as if she hasn’t dated both men and women before, not that one flirtation is dating, or as if she’s never discussed her entanglements with her brothers. Though Mark isn’t always the best soundboard for these things, he’s a little morel literal than Julian who at his heart though he tries to hide it is a pure romantic.

“I met someone,” she says simply before launching into her encounter with Aline. Before she realizes it she’s talking nonstop about a two-minute interaction for nearly twenty minutes.

“So you had a meet-cute?” Julian says suddenly once she’s finally stopped talking. Evidently he’s been paying attention from where he’d been steadily sketching in his own world since asking his last question.

“I don’t recall her story having any meat in it,” Mark responds quizzically. Helen giggles as Julian rolls his eyes jumping down from the counter.

“Meet with two e’s, Mark,” he says leaning on the counter where they sit his arm shielding whatever he’s been sketching. “It’s a mundane phrase for when two people meet in a cute or charming way that leads to romantic development.”

“Ah,” Mark says shoving another spoonful of cereal into his mouth thoughtfully. “So our dear sister had a meet-cute with the Consul’s daughter?”

“She sure did,” Julian smirks winking at his sister playfully. Helen shakes her head.

“I don’t know if I’d call complimenting me after the near destruction of numerous species a meet-cute,” she says stirring the swirling colored milk around in her bowl. She also doesn’t even know if she’ll ever see Aline again despite the air of something that had lingered in their meeting.

Julian just shrugs ripping a page from his sketchbook and leaning down to write something on it quickly.

“In our world it is,” he says sitting the sheet down in front of her before kissing her on the top of her head as if he were the older sibling and bidding them both a goodnight.

She looks down at the sketch paper in front of her. It’s her. A smile she’s never seen on herself gracing her lips, a glow about her coming through in pencil. A small line of Lucky Charms marshmallows are hastily sketched along the bottom showing her that it’s her from mere moments ago talking about Aline.

If she makes you smile like this, it’s definitely a meet-cute, it says in Julian’s scribbly handwriting. She smiles down at the sketch running her fingers along the words deciding definitively in that moment that her brother is right, even if she has to seek out Aline to see her she will be seeing her again soon.

[witchygalaxys]

Explaining Asra

Alright! Before I begin on my tangent about Asra and his connection with Julian, this is a warning! There will be Arcana Spoilers talking about Julian and Asra’s route. So, if you don’t want to be spoiled then don’t read and go play the game! Its really fun! You will enjoy it. A lot of this is based on speculation on what I know. So, don’t get upset if you think that isnt what happened. But I would like to hear your thoughts about what you think did happen. Let’s be friends and theorize together! As for the art…. I have no skill! So, I didn’t make any of it. I’ll try to link what ever I can to the creator but a lot of this I just had saved on my phone so…. If you know who it is…. Could you message me? I’ll edit the post and add their link or account name to the photo. But also, the ones that are mine are just the screen shots I took of the game for evidence. Also, I haven’t finished reading Nadia’s route yet…. Just so you know… ANY WAY! 

(PS: I couldn't find any of the creators T^T. Any way artists your art is beautiful! sorry I couldn't find you! I found these all on Pinterest. Except for the screenshots.)

From what we know by not looking to deep into it is that Julian and Asra were once friends. At some point they were more and then something else. We know what ever it was it didn’t end well for either of them. So I’m going to look into their past and try and connect the dots.

So, from what Asra has said that you (The apprentice) and Asra have known each other for 9 years. Some where in that time He began to develop feelings for you and some how met Julian and became friends with him. Asra has said that you two met at the masquerade 9 years ago in a tent behind the magic shop. The same magic shop you two now call home. Don’t know much about what happened in those 9 years. Just that Asra fell in love with you and the plague and stuff like that. I can assume before the plague began that Asra and Julian were friends at this point in time. It would make séance. I believe Lucio found them and kind of brought them together and that’s how they met. In heart hunter when you run into Lucio on the dock, he brings up how he found Asra there. I’m guessing Asra was still fairly young when found because we know at some point and time Asra and Muriel moved to the woods for safety.

Now for how he found Julian I don’t really know. I think he became the counts Physician before the plague. But Julian also had his own clinic so I don’t know. He could have had both. Everyone needs a doctor through out their lives. Not only when there is a plague. So, this is how I think Julian, Asra, and even Nadia met. They met through Lucio…. 

GETTING BACK ON TRACK! So Asra has told us in his route that you and him had an argument before he left. He wanted you and him to leave because of the plague. But you wanted to stay and help find a cure for the plague. You couldn’t leave the people behind to suffer. So, you became an apprentice to Julian to help find a cure for the plague. This! Is where it all goes downhill. Asra ended up leaving. But I don’t think he would have left you behind if he didn’t think you would be safe. I believe he entrusted Julian his friend to look out for you. This is Asra we are talking about. He wouldn’t do anything if he thought it would put you in danger.

But even so you died of the plague any way. What makes it worse and what actually brought me to tears (Bringing me to tears right now as I type this) was the thought of you dying alone. Julian was to busy and to invested in finding a cure that he didn’t even notice you were sick. I don’t even think he realized you had died for a while.

I keep thinking about how Asra found your body. I believe he used the compass to find your heart’s desire so he could find you. It led him to the Lazaret and lead him to your ash and chard bones. The lazaret is a large island covered in people’s ashes and remains. It’s the only way that makes séance that Asra was able to find yours. If you go up the stairs in the beginning chapters into Lucio’s old wing. He asks if you are the one who broke Asra for him…. I believe this was the moment. The moment that broke Asra. 

(Man these sure hurt my heart)

Asra said he was a different person back then. That he did some terrible things. I believe after finding you he went to confront Julian. I think this is how Julian found out you had died. What would you feel if you were Asra? Leaving the one you love, believing your friend would help protect them while you were gone. Only to come back and find out the one you love had died. And your friend didn’t even notice they were gone and didn’t even notice that they died. If it was me… I would be furious. I would scream, punch and probably want to kill the friend. I would feel so betrayed and so broken. I believe he fought with Julian. But not with words. I believe he physically hurt Julian. Like full on nearly choke him to death. 

I think Julian remembers this fight. In Julian’s route he has a nightmare that makes him say. “No no please! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry!” I believe that was a memory of their fight after finding out you had died. He doesn’t remember what the fight was about. He even says “If I could just remember… Then I would know. If what I’ve done is something unforgivable.” This was after spending the night with you running from the guards. It would make séance that just spending time with you would stir up some forgotten memories.

Having a memory like that where having Asra so angry and hurt but not know what you did to hurt him like that…. It would make you wonder what you had done to get him so worked up. You could only assume it was something unforgivable and for some it is pretty unforgivable. But it wasn’t like he just let them die. He was working on finding a cure. If he had found it, I’m sure he would have given it to you as soon as possible. Once realizing you were dying.

After confronting Julian Asra cut ties with Julian and began to look for any possible way to bring you back. Eventually Asra learns he doesn’t have nearly enough to find a way to bring you back with out the palace’s help. So, he goes to work for the palace telling the palace it is to find a cure for the plague. But he has ulterior motives. To find a way to bring you back. To Asra’s displeasure Julian is there working too, but to actually find a cure for the plague.

Asra is then forced to work along with Julian. From what we see in flashbacks Julian is wanting to be close to Asra. So, I believe he tries to do whatever he can to please Asra or at least impress him. Trying to make up for the loss of the apprentice. Julian wants to be useful to Asra more than anything. But Asra in the beginning wants nothing to do with Julian. Now this is where it gets kind of dark. Not that a plague killing millions of people isnt dark but… 

Asra is a broken man who lost the person he loved most. People mourn in many different ways. In Asra’s case I think he falls under two categories. Denial being one of them. Asra doesn’t accept that you are gone. As we see in a flash back Asra talks about how Julian thinks Asra likes him but his heart belongs to some one else. Faust asks where they are. Asra replies some where he can’t follow, yet. And even tells Faust they are getting close. Showing he fully intends to see you again and that he will see you again.

The second one is… I don’t know the word for this… Whoring your self out? LMAO! That’s not it! I guess the best way to describe it is finding a temporary replacement that makes him forget the pain of not having the one he loves in his arms. I guess that’s called a rebound. Asra is a broken man who lost his world.  Asra sees how vulnerable and open Julian is and uses that to his advantage. Asra is purely using Julian for his body nothing more. But this confuses Julian. Julian begins to believe it is something more than what it really is. A booty call!

It’s pretty obvious Asra doesn’t really care for Julian, not the same way Julian cares for Asra. I wouldn’t blame him. (Even though Julian is my boy!) When ever Julian shown his affection towards Asra, Asra always seemed pretty disgusted by it. But also sees opportunity in it. If you paid to see the past in Asra’s route. You will see Julian ended up following Asra to the shop where he finds Asra doing a ritual of some kind. Asra takes full advantage of it and uses Julian as a test subject. Julian completely gives himself to Asra. All he wants to do is be useful to Asra. The sexual tension is pretty dang high in that part! It even fades out hinting that Asra ends up kissing Julian. Now we never find out what the ritual was for but Julian for sure remembers it. I believe its why he became so uncomfortable with magic. He even references this moment in his own route. I believe the ritual was an attempt to bring back the apprentice that didn’t end up working. It seemed like a pretty dark spell that needed a lot of power. From what we see magic is pretty easy to do. Especially from a trained magician like Asra. You don’t always need a book or a catalyst to make it work. In Asra’s route you even see him make water from sand! With out any of that! But he needed those things for this certain spell. I don’t think he fully knew what would happen to Julian if he used this spell. I don’t even think he cared. In his eyes Julian is the reason the apprentice isnt there. While at the same time Julian is beating himself up for the same exact reason. Julian wants to redeem himself for the loss of the apprentice.

But eventually I believe Julian wanted more with Asra. He began to confuse their “After hour visits” with more than what it was. Asra immediately shot this down. Like… “Are you an actual idiot? Fuck you! No!” I think this is around the time Asra found a way to bring the apprentice back. When he became close to the apprentice. This was the time where Asra tells Faust they are close to getting the apprentice back. 

So some time has passed and the masquerade is over. Asra has the apprentice back but with their memories gone. Lucio is said to be dead and that Julian is the culprit. What we find out is that Asra stole the body that was meant to replace Lucio’s dying body, and uses it to bring back the apprentice while also giving up half his heart. Julian made a trade with the hanged man for the power to heal and take peoples wounds and have them be inflicted onto himself in place of the memories he didn’t want. 

OKAY NOW I WILL BE TALKING ABOUT HOW FLIPPING SALTY ASRA IS IN JULIANS ROUTE! LIKE OH MY GOODNESS! Reading Julian’s route, I actually didn’t look forward to seeing Asra in it. Every time I saw him, I felt like I was ripping out the other half of his heart. And you are probably thinking…. “Well he isnt going to like you being with any one else other then him.” HA! WRONG! In Nadia’s route he actually comments saying You and Nadia make a cute couple. And He even tries to help you and Muriel get together! It’s just Julian! WITH GOOD REASON! I know! I literally just described why he would be so salty in most of this entire post. But we are going down a bit deeper again….

Reading Julian’s route, you can see Asra is not shy about his feelings towards you liking Julian. Which who could blame him really. You know why he doesn’t like it but do you understand? EVEN IF YOU DO, I WILL TELL YOU ANY WAY! OKAY SO! Asra pretty much went through hell and back to try and bring you back. He gave up half of himself for you to come back. But in Julian’s route you never really find out what he did or went through to try and bring you back. You just know its because of Asra that you are breathing and alive. Asra has loved you for years. He loved you so deeply it drove him almost to madness when you died. He gave half of himself to bring you back. Now here is the thing. Like I said… it seems Asra is fine with you being with someone other than him.

He brought you back so you could have that choice. So, he could just talk with you again and just see you laugh and smile again. He wants you to be happy ultimately. That’s what he really cares about. He wants you happy even if it isnt with him. So, he will support you in any relationship you have. Except for 2 (Lucio being one…. That’s right I’m calling you Lucio stans out. Jk jk. We have fun here) 

It’s just Julian he has a problem with. Because Julian… in Asra’s eyes is one of the reasons you died in the first place. Which kind of shows Asra that he isnt very responsible. Not just that but he knows what Julian is like. He has seen it firsthand. Julian is pretty self-destructive. But not just that. When you died while Asra was miserably trying to bring you back Julian was trying to get into Asra’s pants.

Even as time goes on and every one notices a change in Julian it seems Asra is kind of okay with the relationship. Or so you would believe. What got me though and what actually kind of hurt was at the end when you and Julian were leaving for your trip. People came to say goodbye and wish you safe travels. All except for Asra. Granted Asra was probably reconnecting with his parents but here is the thing…. If the person you’ve loved for the last 6 years… (Guessing Asra fell in love after the first 3 years) was leaving on a long journey, wouldn’t you go say goodbye? Asra! The person who gave half his heart to bring you back and basically helped raise you for 3 years after being brought back from the dead. He didn’t come and say goodbye. Me being the Apprentice I would still be looking up to Asra like a big brother almost. I would still want to be close to him. After all he is the first person, I can ever remember meeting. He even brought me back to life somehow! I would want him there. I would want to say goodbye. You both are forever tied to each other as well. You both have half of the same heart.  

But I also understand why he wouldn’t go. He probably still loves you at this point. I t would be extremely painful to watch the person you love go with some one else. And thinking of that just makes me hurt so much for Asra. He could have been a villain. He could have told the apprentice to stay away from Julian. He could have tried to come between them but instead he didn’t. Despite how against it he was. He didn’t once try to stop you. He tried to convince you to not follow Julian but like he said (In his sassy way) You are aloud to make your own bad decisions.

In the end Asra isnt a bad person. His heart truly lies with you. You are his priority. You always have been. He would do anything just to see you smile. Even if that smile was for someone else.  Although I don’t like or support how he treated Julian but I can understand that he was hurting. And for a moment Julian was able to take away that hurt or at least distract him from it. They both kind of got what they wanted. Asra wanted to stop hurting and Julian just wanted to be useful to Asra. They got what they wanted but not what they needed.  If they both had done things a bit differently, I bet they could have been a good couple. Julian has even pointed out “Maybe if I had been a little less selfish… maybe things could have been different.”

WELP THAT’S IT! THAT’S THE END! Man! THANK YOU for reading all of this. I know it is a lot. But I had just kept thinking about Asra and how unfair Julian’s route is for him. I know he still gets his parents back so he isnt entirely alone, plus Muriel and Faust. But every time I read Julian’s route I always get this guilt in my heart. I mean… I know I keep saying this but…. HE GAVE UP HALF HIS HEART! NOT KNOWING WHAT THAT EVEN MEANT! Asra is a good boy. He deserves happiness just as much as any one else. 

[dsmroleplay]

#Retribution #SPN #DSM #RP Part One

Co-written by @Devonzaine & @HickOperator

Devon - Julian Duval had been a close friend and business partner for many years. So when news had come he and his pack had been killed in a midnight raid on his compound I’d naturally looked into it. Sitting back in the leather desk chair I stared at the picture of the asshole who was responsible, Colton Winchester owner of Blackwater. This fucker as I’d dug further had ties to the U.S. Military and had a hand in countries around the world. The word “untouchable “ had come up more than once but Julian had managed to grab his daughter once. Surely there was a chink in his armor. 

Devon was a weapons manufacturer and moved in similar circles no doubt he’d find a way in. There was a buzz that the asshole son was stepping to the forefront and taking on chief operations for the Texas office. And word Was Colt was moving his wife and daughter with him to New York. Devon had photographs laying on his desk if Alyson at a restaurant with none other that Graham Miller, he’d been Julian’s second in command and he was the only surviving member of Julian’s pack. Miller was no one to fuck with and Colt had a reputation for being hell on a battlefield as well so he reasoned Ian would be the easiest target as of now. His other father... a guy named Jake Winchester was not a physical threat and seemed more interested with his ex husband’s look-alike than anything else. He’d do this smart, go in all charming and seduce the kid. Then he’d tear him down till the kid was broken. What better payback than daddy’s boy fucked beyond repair. He would enjoy this.-

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Ian - Classes, classes, and more classes. It was getting to be too much. After dealing with the shyte with the news bomb that my dad dropped on me, it was exhausting. The mother of my child was in the hospital, my dad and I weren't on the best terms, it was exhausting. Now I'm going to a damn Gala for BlackWater. As a representative since Dad was with Qhuinn, getting ready to move to New York. My eyes closed and my head laid back and I rubbed my eyes before going to my closet. I had to tug out my suit and climbed into the shower and began to scrub my body clean. I was too damn tired for this. After cleaning, and shaving. I tugged on my suit and texted the nurse on call in the hospital and grunted. No change. I was tempted to tell Dad I couldn't do it, but if I did that...then there was a strike against me. I may have accepted Papa's olive branch, didn't mean things changed. Nope, tonight was an event I had to endure to keep the image. Then that's what I'd do. Let the games begin.~

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Devon - -The gala was to fundraise for the local food bank and various other charities in the city. And beneath that it was an informal meeting of a lot of weapons manufacturer and government official's to catch up without having press thinking they were up to something. Devon had met Colt Winchester once years ago at something like this and he'd come across a solid business man even though everyone knew he preferred to be knee deep in the shit instead of behind a desk. He wondered how junior was going to be. As the limo pulled up the paparazzi were lined up taking photos and shouting questions hoping some of the guests would slow down and speak with them. As always Devon just smiled and kept walking he wouldn't entertain their bullshit even if his life depended on it. Once inside he made his way to the staircase and took up a spot there so he could survey the room and look for one Ian Winchester.-

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Ian - ~When I arrived, I smiled but bypassed the reporters. When I entered, I was graced by different people and began to socialize, explaining that my Dad was busy with his wife and mother-to-be. They told me to give him their congratulations before talking to me about needing some help. I told them that we could talk more later. Soon, a guy standing on the stairs caught my attention. Who the fuck was he?

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -The young Winchester had made eye contact and Devon raised his glass of bourbon as way of greeting and then took a drink. Come on kid take the bait. Seems the intell was right this one played for both teams just like his ole man.-

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Ian -Cocking my head to the side, I watched the male. I nodded before a woman catches my attention and asked me for a dance. I laughed lightly and walked with her and danced. It was one of my ex-army buddies.~

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Devon - Chuckles as he watches, he might have some fun with this after all. Sipping his drink as he was caught by Jerry Atler a CIA operative that pulled me aside.- Have you heard anything about an artifact Blackwater discovered? -Eyes narrowed.- No I haven't. What's going on? -Atler brought me up to speed on what he knew and that the intelligence world was buzzing wanting to know where it was and what was it. Rumor was a very top tier science team had been sent to Colombia but the information was sketchy. Devon processed that and told Atler he'd give him a call if anything turned up. This could improve his business if he were to find out where and what for them. Walking down the stairs talking to this one and that making his way to Ian.-

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Ian - ~I felt him before he arrived, my instincts told me to run, but I shut them down. They didn't do well for my team, I doubted they'd help now. I thanked the woman for the dance before looking up at the male.~ "Hello, I'm Ian Winchester. May I help you with something?"

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - Relieve the boredom of this -Gestures with his glass to the surrounding patrons- /event/ -Laughs- I'm Devon Zaine. I wanted to meet the youngest Chief of Operations ever for Blackwater. I've met your father Colt before, I'm guessing you look more like your mother. -Offers his hand.-

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Ian - "Yeah, I get that a lot." ~Chuckles and holds my hand out and shakes his.~ "I don't know how my dad managed through these things without shooting his foot to get out of them." ~Chucķles and motioned towards the grounds.~ "Care to step outside and talk?"

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Eyes settled on Ian and they didn't move from him, the handshake was firm and Devon made sure to let his fingers graze the inside of Ian's palm as he pulled them back. Chance? Or deliberate?- After you Mr. Winchester.

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~I was unease about having anyone at my back, but this was for the company. If I could pull people in, and get a bigger profit in so Dad wouldn't worry so much, I'd deal with it. I made my way, and said the obligatory hellos and explained why Dad wasn't here, I made a pathway To the grounds and grabbed a drink from a waiter who was walking by. Sipping it, I leaned against the rail. Waiting for Mr. Zaine.~

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Slipping out he cracked his neck and put his glass down on a table before settling against the railing next to Ian.- I get the feeling you hate these things as bad as I do. -Looks over with intensity.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - "I'd rather be in my most boring class in school than this shyte. I'm not Dad, I get that. I'm too damn young, yadda yadda. It's frustrating."  ~I admitted, taking a sip of my drink.~ "I'd rather be finishing my project I was working on. However, it's my turn to step in this.. Fake shyte show." ~Motions towards the others. Inwardly, I grimaced. Hoping he wasn't offended that I basically called this event as an ass kissing event.

:::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - What is this project you're working on? I-Sincerely interested he was curious what this one got up too.-

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - "Security and medical research to help more people that need it most. Not keep the rich satisfied but to help those who aren't as lucky." ~Shrugs and takes a longer pull of my drink.~ "I've seen so many people suffer because of the greedy."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Nods.- Money makes otherwise outstanding humans do incredibly stupid things. You didn't grow up in this life did you... -Studying Ian he smiled.- I confess I did a little research on you. Navy Seal... turned corporate jock. How did that happen?

:::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~Rubs my neck.~ "My mom took me and my sister away from our dad and dropped us off. So no, I didn't grow up in this...world. and I agree, Money is a big motivator for stupid people." *Shrugs.* "After a failed mission...I came home to work at Blackwater. Haven't regretted it..."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - I'm glad you found your way back. Are you in pain? -Noticing him rubbing his neck. Concern etched in his face.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~Notices I'm rubbing my neck, I blush.~ "Sorry, it's a habit I picked up when I talk about my past. What about you Mr. Zaine? What do you do to earn this...prestige." ~The word prestige was used sarcastically. I was sure that he hated being here, and wished he wasnt.~

::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -The blush was adorable, he was to young to be in the wolves den but Devon pushed that aside.- Well I grew up on the streets of Brooklyn. Hustled till I got caught and was tossed into a boys home. Some shady shit went down and I ended up being foster by the name of William Hampton. He was sweet on boys but the ole bastard taught me a lot about the world. Sent me to college etc, I studied engineering and kinda stumbled into weapons manufacturing. Funny how that works, always need funding so... build what the military needs and you find yourself with some. So I make shit for the suits to blow things up with. -Laughs-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~I shook my head and exhaled. Not showing my disgust. He was one of those types of people I could not wrap my head around. with a polite smile, I looked at him.~ "I'm sure you'll find plenty of donors who are willing to pay that kind of money to blow shyte up."

::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - I'm not here to find donors Ian, I came to meet you. Call me intrigued. -Eyes settle on him wondering if he'll run like a scared lamb.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~Eyes turning cold, I stood straighter.~ "And now you have. As you have also said, you have researched me.  I'm sure you already know enough about me. Now excuse me, I need to be here. Have a goodnight Mr. Zaine." ~I replied politely before starting to make my way inside.~

::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Devon laughed quietly and watched the riled Winchester walk away. He wasn't a little bitch after all. Devon looked back over the scenery calculating his next move.-

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

Ian - ~After another hour, I bid a goodnight and left. I texted Dad. My head throbbed so fucking bad. Ordering a car, I waited in the darkness and fresh air, trying to calm down the anger. Next time, Papa is doing these. He can fake it with the best.~

:::::::::::::::::::::::::

Devon - -Zaine had thought he might persuade him to come home with him but this was better. He was rattled and Zaine wanted to know why Ian was so guarded. Keeping an eye on him he'd had his driver take him home. He'd see Ian again very soon.-

[lowercasing-blog]

such a tender trap (mc/julian, R)

so, this is the first real thing i write for this fandom - the first thing i’ve written and finished in a while, actually! - and it’s blatant porn without plot.  AS YOU DO.  i guess thirst for tall, masochistic plague doctors is my ultimate Writing Motivation™?????

anyway, have 1.5k-ish of entirely self-indulgent first-time mc/julian to christen this new writing blog!  i wrote this thinking of the apprentice being a trans man, but it’s vague enough that i guess you can make your own decision based on your preferences as far as that’s concerned :’)

i had laid such a tender trap hoping you might fall into it but love hit me like a sudden slap one kiss, and then i knew it. - MASSIVE ATTACK, “THE HUNTER GETS CAPTURED BY THE GAME”

julian devorak is, by all accounts, an imposing figure. tall, broad-shouldered, signature dramatic coat and plague mask cutting a sinister silhouette, even without his reputation among the people of vesuvia as a cold-blooded murderer.

well. if they saw him now, you have a hard time believing they'd call the man beneath you imposing or fearsome. not with his coat long since discarded on the floor, shirt open and barely hanging on his shoulders; not with the flush across his face or the desperate way he looks into your eyes when you take both his wrists and pin them above his head.

you look down at him, trying to seem cooler, more detached, than you are, trying to hide the hunger in your own eyes that you see in his as well. keeping his hands in place with one of yours - both of you know he could easily break free, and the fact that he doesn't sends a little thrill through you - you let your other hand wander, down over his neck, his collarbone, his chest.

"hold still for me."

he nods, one side of his mouth twitching upwards. good. that's all you need to see. your other hand leaves his wrists, sliding down to cup the side of his face, stroking his cheek. this is a good look for him, this whole totally at your mercy thing. not that he - unfortunately - has any bad looks, just one of the many frustrating things about him.

you feel a shiver run through his body when the hand on his chest travels further, gently thumbing over one nipple, and then a soft exhale as you roll it between your thumb and forefinger. encouraged, you lean down, tongue running over the other before taking it between your teeth - and you feel his hips buck against your thigh.

instantly, you're sitting back up, hands at your sides again. "what did i say, doctor?"

the disappointment is evident on his face, but he still grins. "that you've been waiting to do this since i first broke into your master's shop?"

you raise your hand and then - a sharp crack as your hand hits his cheek, your palm stinging. he gasps, and you can all but see him struggle not to moan. it's, for lack of a better word, adorable; it makes you want to simultaneously kiss his face better and hit him again. "before that, you ass."

he swallows. "'hold still.'"

you nod, brushing his hair out of his face. "that's better," you tell him, leaning back down to press a kiss to his collarbone, following the line of it with your tongue until you reach his throat. his heartbeat thuds under your lips in a rhythm that, you decide, is just a bit too slow for your liking, and you sink your teeth into the flesh just below his adam's apple.

he twitches under you, and god, it's cute. you can feel him hard against your leg and tell just from the tension in his body that it's taking everything he has not to grind against you as you trail bite marks down his chest; you don't even need to look back up at him to know he's got his bottom lip between his teeth again trying to hold back his noises of pain and pleasure. you stop when you reach his hips, hooking your thumbs over the waist of his trousers, looking up with what you're sure must resemble a predator's smile.

"is this okay?"

julian doesn't even take a half-second to think it over. "yes."

another flash of your teeth. "good."

he makes a noise almost like he's choking when you run your tongue over his erection through his clothing, which just makes you laugh.

"you don't have to be so quiet. i want to hear you."

that gets a full-blown moan out of him, and you're not sure if it's by your request or because of what you've said, not that you really matter, because he sounds pretty and eager and you can actually feel him getting harder at your words and it's, basically, the best feeling you can imagine.

"good boy." you kiss him again, just above his hipbone, and straighten up to look directly at him.  “tell me what you want.”

“i’ll do whatever you want.”  his voice rasps, low with desire, breath hitching in his throat as you trace a finger down the obvious tent in his trousers.  “please.”

“that’s not what i asked.  i want to know what you want.”

“i want…” his eyes fall closed, and he turns his head to the side, away from you, ashamed.  “i want to fuck you.”

you answer by pressing your thigh harder against him, not bothering with a reprimand as he rolls his hips into you; instead, you lean down and kiss the corner of his mouth, softly.

“there.  was that so hard?”

he laughs shakily in response, then more warmly as your hands fumble with the closure of his pants and pull them roughly out of the way; at least he has the common sense not to continue laughing when you nearly tip off the side of the bed in your haste to remove your own.  seemingly unconsciously, his tongue darts over his bottom lip as you slide your underthings off and toss them unceremoniously on the ground.  truthfully, you’re a little embarrassed by the hungry way his eyes take you in; it’s not that nobody’s ever seen you mostly naked before, but no one’s ever looked at you this way, not quite this ravenously.  encouraged, you straddle him, not taking him inside you yet but running your nails down his chest, and he shudders.

“has anyone ever told you that you’re an - mm - that you’re an awful tease?”

“you’re the first, actually,” you reply with a grin.  “must be something about you that makes me want to tease you.”

his breath catches in his throat as you press against him and you know he can feel how wet you are, how much it’s killing you to make him wait, too.  “i seem to have that effect on people.”

“hmm. how terrible that must be for you.”  you roll your hips against him, experimentally, nails digging harder into his skin at the shock of pleasure.

“ah - it’s a tragedy, fuck-” his hands, still held dutifully above his head, clench and twitch as you rub up against the head of his cock, grinding yourself against it, and your own hands grab at his hips to steady yourself, because your knees suddenly feel very weak.

“still alright?”

“stop asking me that,” he says through clenched teeth as you slide over his length again, “because you already know the answer.”

“i’m being polite.  wouldn’t want to overwhelm you,” and when you say overwhelm, you reach down and guide him just inside you, and he flat-out whimpers.

“i’d far prefer it to you torturing me like this.”

you can’t help but chuckle at that.  “something tells me that’s not true.  you’d love for me to torture you.”

“that’s not- oh-” a sudden intake of breath cuts his retort short as you drag your nails over his hipbones, hard enough to raise pink welts almost immediately.  “that’s not fair.”

you smile, sinking down torturously slow to take him further into you, savoring the way his breathing quickens.  “this wouldn’t be very much fun if i played fair.”

“fair enough,” he mutters, eyes closing again, and you take that as enough encouragement to continue, setting a lazily slow but steady rhythm, holding him down so he doesn’t try to speed it up.  there will - hopefully, you try not to think too hard about a future where you won’t have the opportunity - be enough time for rough, demanding encounters further on, later days for him to be aching and exhausted and covered in black and blue; tonight, you can take things slow and terribly gentle.  a different kind of torture.

the whole time, you watch him, catalogue every breathy little moan, every movement that makes him shiver and tremor, everything that makes him twitch inside you, and it’s debatable which is better: when you finally come, clenching around him, your head dropping to rest against his chest because your arms are too busy shaking to hold you up; or his groan as he comes inside you moments later, disregarding - or just forgetting entirely - your orders not to move and tangling his hands in your hair.

you lie together, both sweaty and spent, neither of you willing - and, at least in your own case, not entirely able - to move.  you press a kiss to julian’s chest, just below the space between his collarbones, and he brushes away the sweaty strands of hair sticking to your forehead.

“‘wouldn’t want to overwhelm me.’  tch.  sure,” he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you.

as much as you can manage, you shrug.  “you seem more ‘adequately whelmed’ to me.”

“i don’t believe that’s a word,” julian replies seriously.

you punch him lightly in the shoulder without looking up.  “stop nitpicking my vocabulary and just hold me, you pompous idiot.”

a glance at his face isn’t necessary; you can hear his rakish smile in his voice.  “gladly, my dear.”

he does, and you wonder if fate will be kind enough to let you spend the rest of your days in his arms.

[ernmark]

Hello. I was wondering if we could get another chapter in the ghost Juno au. It's one of my favorites. :)

Okay, so quick story time regarding this one:

It’s one of my first fics written for The Penumbra, and probably one of my favorites. So I published it in October, I tried to keep going with it, and I last updated it in February.

Because I could never decide on the right way to end it. 

Last weekend a friend of mine came over, and she spent some time helping me unravel some blocks, which is why this is finally finished.

You can find the whole of the fic here (since this fic predates me posting them directly to tumblr). 

I spend the next several days sleeping off my injuries. Junostays at my side, helping me walk when I have to, bringing me things when Ineed them, and mostly just holding me.

He pretends that everything is fine, and I pretend tobelieve him. Too often, though, I wake up to find him gone. When he comes back,he’s winded and exhausted, but he doesn’t say a thing. He doesn’t do anythingbut crawl into bed and wrap his arms around me.

I don’t need him to tell me what’s going on. I already know.

I wasn’t careful enough with my getaway. The Kanagawas havetracked me to this building. They’ve probably tried to get inside on more thana few occasions, but Juno keeps driving them off.

The food he brings me is from the landlady’s kitchen, whichshe was kind enough to drop it off at the doorstep right before she left. Junoinsists she’s off taking care of her sick aunt out of town, that she’ll be backany day now, but the building’s few other tenants have made similar getaways. Ishould probably do the same—but that would mean leaving Juno behind. And onceI’m gone, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back. I don’t know how longit’ll take the rest of the building’s occupants to come back, either, or ifthey even will. After all, there aren’t many people willing to risk staying ina place that’s been targeted by a mob family. How long will it be beforesomebody else moves into this room?

How long will Juno be trapped in this building by himself?

“Doesn’t matter,” is always Juno’s answer. “You need to getout of here. I can wait.”

“I can’t just leave you here.”

“Sure you can. Your leg’s good enough to walk on. Just grabthe first car you see and go. Simple as that.” He peers through the blinds atthe alley below. Judging by the look on his face, he doesn’t like what he sees.“The sooner that happens, the better.”

“There has to be some way to get you out.”

“Don’t you think I haven’t tried?”

“Something you haven’t tried, then.”

He strides back to me with a grating sigh. “Like what?Séances? Rituals? Before Alessandra went off to war, she brought in priests andpastors from every denomination she could think of to try and cleanse thisplace. Julian pulled in pagans and every New Age scrap of occultism he couldthink of. I’ve been salted and saged and exorcised, and nothing helps. That’sjust how it is. Hell, Rita even tried to get me to ‘sever my ties to thisearthly plane’—I’m probably lucky that one didn’t work out.”

“Not fond of the harp?” I ask, trying for a moment oflevity. It doesn’t work: Juno’s face is even more grim than before.

“Harps I don’t have a problem with, but smoke and brimstonedo a real number on my lungs.” And he believes it, too: so badly that I canalmost smell smoke on him.

I pull him away from the window and back to me, leaning inclose so I take up his full field of vision. “I don’t believe you’re meant forthat.”

“What do you know?” he mutters, but there’s no spite in it;just exhaustion. “Peter, please. You were always going to leave eventually.Trust me, you don’t want to be stuck here forever.”

“Juno…” A part of me wants to tell him that he’s wrong—thatspending an eternity with him is hardly my idea of hell—but I know it’s thewrong thing to say right now. Forever is a long time, after all, and there’s somuch of the world I haven’t seen. I can’t think of anything to say that mightpersuade him, so I do the only thing I can think of: I kiss him.

It won’t fix anything. It won’t stop the Kanagawas fromcircling like vultures, and it won’t get him out of this building with me, butat least it can give us both something less unpleasant to think about for a fewmoments. The hellfire smell grows stronger, so I grab him closer and kiss himharder, trying to push out the thoughts of hellfire and damnation, to convincehim that he’s so much better thanthat.  He melts into me, eager and pliantin my arms, but I can still smell the smoke curling around him.

And then it hits me: this isn’t some manifestation of hiswill. It’s actual smoke.

I pull away to say something, but the first gasp for breathgives me nothing but a lungful of smoke. I fall back, coughing violently.  It’s getting thicker now, pouring through thecrack under the door.

“Juno—“

“I see it,” he says. “Give me a second.” In the next momenthe vanishes. When he reappears beside me, he’s coughing from the memory ofsmoke. “The first floor looks like Happy Hour for Molotov cocktails. You’regonna need to use the fire escape.”

I rush for the door into the main hallway, but the moment Itouch it, I pull my hand back with a gasp. The doorknob is as hot as astovetop. The smoke pouring through is thick and black, and it’s filling theroom. Much longer and I won’t be able to breathe at all. I hurry to the window,throwing it open, and suck in a lungful of clean air. To my right, a few doorsdown the hall, hangs the fire escape. It isn’t all that far, really.

“We have another problem,” I tell Juno, pointing down. It’sfour stories to the concrete below. Even if the fall doesn’t kill me, I won’tbe good for much once I’m on the ground—certainly not enough to fight off thegangsters that are waiting at the corners of the alley. Before I can point themout properly, a burst of gunfire sprays the wall around the windowsill.

“Goddammit,” he mutters. “I can get rid of them. Right nowlet’s just focus on getting you out in one piece.”

“There’s a bit of a ledge on the windowsill. If you can stopthem from shooting at me, I might be able to climb it.”

He stares at me, horrified. “Are you serious? A few days agoyou couldn’t walk on that leg, and now you want to scale a building?”

“I’m motivated.”

He scowls and disappears. This time he walks back, handingme the fire extinguisher from underneath the kitchen sink. “Maybe try thatfirst.”

“But the Kanagawas—“

“I’ll get rid of them,” he says. “Just focus on gettingdown.” He grabs me and kisses me one last time, and then he disappears.

I yank the blanket off the bed and wrap it around my handsbefore I try the door again. It takes some fumbling to open the doorknob, butfinally I get it open.

For half an instant I think I can make it—then the oxygenfrom the open window hits the flames, and they billow out to meet me. I leapback, scorched by the wall of pure heat.

The hallway won’t work—and now that the door’s open, theflames are spreading fast. I race back to the window, but more gunfire peppersthe wall.

I might just die here after all.

No. No, there’s got to be another way. It can’t end likethis.

I spray the spreading flames with the fire extinguisher, butI only manage to push it back to the door before the dry foam runs out. Theflames will be back within minutes, but at least gives me a little time tothink.

There’s something my old mentor used to say—one of his manyFirst Rules of Thieving: to the master thief, doors are but suggestions.

If the windows and doors are both blocked, then I’ll make myown. Even if the fire extinguisher can’t put out all these flames, it stillmakes one hell of a battering ram.

Like most residential buildings, the walls between the roomsare thin, just drywall and plaster over a wooden frame. It’s usually politenessand inconvenience that keeps people from simply smashing their way throughthem, but this is no time to be polite. With the first impact of the base ofthe fire extinguisher, the drywall breaks apart. A second impact widens thehole, and a third more. The wallpaper on the other side of the wall gives meslightly more trouble, but only just. I climb through the hole I’ve made intothe darkened room on the other side—

And immediately I run into another wall. But that can’t beright. I should be in the office next door. The space I’m in is only a few feetwide, only barely long enough to hold me. A closet, perhaps? The drywall ischalky and unpainted when touch it, and I can’t find the door. Maybe it’s tothe side?

But when I reach to the left, I feel something that isn’t awall.

It’s fabric, barely covering something dry and papery andhard.

I stumble away from it, nearly toppling back through thehole I’ve made. The fire is already spreading inside. The papers and blueprintsare blackened and turning to ash. The ancient desk will take longer to burn.Smoke is pouring into this little space—if I don’t get out now, I’llasphyxiate.

No time to find another way out. I grab the fireextinguisher and smash my way through the next wall.

I should keep moving. Turning back will accomplishnothing—it’ll just be a waste of precious time.

I look anyway.

Through the hole seeps just enough light that I can see it:a desiccated corpse, barely a pile of bones held together by sinew and leatheryskin and the remains of those clothes.

The fire extinguisher falls from my hands. I know thoseclothes. The hat. The shirt. The coat. Those slacks. They’re lost in theshadows, but I could tell you the exact pattern of those socks and the size andmake of those shoes.

No wonder he couldn’t leave. His body’s been here this wholetime.

I need to do—I need to do something. Take Juno’s body and get it out of here, get it tosafety, get it properly buried, something. I can’t just leave him here likethis. But I can’t bring myself to touch the body, either. If I touch it, thatwill somehow make it real. It’ll somehow make it his. Never mind that I alreadyhad my hands on it when I was groping around for a door—it’s different now thatI know.

I stare, powerless, as the room fills with smoke.

“Peter!”

I jump, startled out of my stupor. For a blank moment I lookat the skull, like it could have said my name. But then Juno calls for meagain, and I can hear him clearly. “Peter!”

“Over here, Juno!” I call to him, but it’s lost to a fit ofcoughing. There’s too much smoke. Instead reaching through the hole in thewall. The heat on my hand is intense, but it works. In an instant hematerializes beside me.

“There you are,” he says. “Come on, I took care of the goonsdownstairs. The fire escape should be the in the next apartment over.”

“Juno, wait.” I grab him by the wrist, suddenly all tooaware that the shirt he’s wearing is just a memory of the one hidden behind thewall. “There’s something you need to see.”

“Peter, there’s no—“ I know the exact moment his eyes fallon the body. His lips part. His eyes widen. He looks so very small andvulnerable.  And then the moment passes,and he turns away. “There’s no time for that. We need to get you out of here.”

“But Juno—“

“You’re more important.” He picks up the fire extinguisherand starts toward the far wall. “We’ll deal with it later. After you’resafe.”  He has raw strength that I’venever had, lungs that are unbothered by the smoke, and the kind ofdetermination that can move mountains. Within seconds, there’s another holelarge enough for me to climb through.

The apartment we left behind is ablaze. Tongues of flame arereaching through the series of holes I made, licking at drywall and lumber anda cotton shirt that’s nearly a century old.

“Keep moving!” Juno grabs me by the shoulders and shepherdsme toward the next hole. “It’s just through that window. You’re almost there!”

I stumble through the hole. The fire escape is just on theother side of the far window, the metal railing sharply contrasted againstbright sunlight, but my watering eyes are drawn to another point of light.

The fire’s reached Juno’s body.

“Juno!” I reach back through to him, and he takes my hand.

His skin has always felt so cold. Now it almost hurts totouch him.

His voice is soft, but impossibly clear over the roaringfire: “I love you, Peter Nureyev. You’re the greatest thing that’s—”

And then he’s gone. Behind him, the fire bursts through thefalse wall. There’s nothing left of his body.

There’s nothing left of him.

I turn away and walk slowly to the window, unlatching it andpulling it open with wooden motions. A part of me wants to lie down and let thefire take me. Another part is listening to an endless refrain of Juno’s voice: Keep moving. You’re almost there.

I keep moving because Juno told me to. I keep going becausethere’s no reason to stay.

I steal the first car I see. I drive until I can’t anymore,and then I pull over on the side of the road and sleep in the car untilmorning. When I wake up, I snatch a man’s wallet out of his back pocket and buymyself new clothes, a jar of burn cream, and a proper meal. Using hiscredentials, I rent a room at the first motel that doesn’t ask for my ID.

It’s all mechanical, driven more by habit and muscle memorythan by conscious thought. I don’t want to think right now. I don’t want to doanything but sleep.

I don’t know how long I spend sleeping it off. A few hours,maybe. A few days. When I wake up, I roll over and go back to sleep. I’ll leavewhen the money runs out, or when the man I pickpocketed cancels his card.Whichever comes first. I just need some time, that’s all. Some time.

Chapped lips press against my forehead, soft and gentle. Myeyes flutter open, and he pulls back, just enough that I can see.

“Juno,” I whisper.

This must be a dream, but I don’t challenge it. It’s a gooddream.

His back is to the window, and the sliver of sunlightilluminates him from behind like a halo. His smile is gentle and warm.

“Glad to see you made it out okay,” he says.

“I’d be okay if I made it out with you.” I sit up, trying toface him. “I’m sorry, Juno. I’m so sorry. I should have found a way to get youout of there. I should have—“

“It’s okay, Peter. It needed to happen.” His hand foldsaround mine. His skin is cool to the touch. “There’s nothing tying me to that placeanymore. I’m free to go.”

It feels like the bed’s been pulled out from underneath me,and for a moment I wish I felt as numb as I did when I walked into this damnmotel.

After the better part of a century, he can finally take hisrest. I should be happy for him. I should be delighted that he can be at peace.Instead all I can feel is my heart breaking all over again.

I’m typically the one disappearing, not the one left behind.

He deserves a proper goodbye—some dramatic verse aboutendless galaxies, or about heroes etched in the stars as constellations, or atleast an assurance that I’ll never forget him—but my mind is blank. I squeezehis hand desperately.

“I don’t want to let you go,” I croak.

And he gives me an odd look. “I sure as hell hope not.”

Wait. “What?”

“What?” He quirks an eyebrow. “I said I can move on fromthat place. I never said I was moving on in general. There’s still somethingtying me to this earthly realm, after all.” He leans in, his forehead restingagainst mine. “As long as you’ve got your hooks in me, I’m not going anywhere.”

[thesassybooskter]

ONE MORE MOMENT by Samantha Chase: Excerpt & Giveaway

NOW AVAILABLE / SOURCEBOOKS CASABLANCA

Julian Grayson is taking a break

     …from his cheating fiancée

     …from his band

     …from his life in the spotlight

Charlotte Clark is devoted to her work

     …to save the world

     …to help the homeless

     …to get a broken man back on his feet

When Charlotte Clark offers to pay for Julian Grayson’s coffee, the world-famous drummer assumes she wants something from him. But Charlotte has no idea who he is, and Julian can’t resist keeping up the charade—being incognito is a novelty and a relief. He’ll have to tell her…eventually. But as Charlotte cheerfully undertakes to transform his life, Julian realizes there’s something about her that gives him what he hasn’t felt in years: hope.

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  Excerpt

Slowly she came to her feet and brushed the sand from her dress. Inhaling deeply, she looked out at the waves one more time before reaching down for her purse. When she turned around, she immediately came up short.

Julian.

He stood ten feet away from her and his expression was unreadable.

Charlotte normally believed in coincidences, but she was having a hard time accepting this situation was just that. The hopeless romantic side of her—which didn’t come out very often—really wanted to think he’d been hoping to find her here or that he’d specifically been looking for her. But from everything she knew about Julian, he was too stubborn and strong-willed for such things.

They stood like that—facing one another, silently assessing for a few minutes.

“Hi,” she said finally, but didn’t make a move toward him. The breeze off the water kicked up and her hair was blowing wildly, her long skirt whipped against her legs. She groaned at what a mess she must look like but she still couldn’t make herself move.

It took all her self-control not to sag with relief when he finally took a step toward her. “What are you doing out here alone so late?”

And her foolish heart kicked hard in her chest at his gruff question.

“Just getting my daily beach fix in.”

But Julian shook his head even as he kept advancing. “You were out here this morning before you went to work,” he said, his voice low and almost tortured. “Every morning this week you’ve been out here. I can see you from my deck. Try again.”

He knew she’d been here earlier? How…? Why…?

Swallowing hard, she said, “I was heading home and wanted to come out here for a bit. I enjoy watching the sunset. A girl can get two daily beach fixes, you know.” She meant to sound defiant, but she had a feeling it didn’t come out quite that way.

Julian’s gaze roamed over her from head to toe.

And Charlotte cursed how unsexy the windblown look was on her.

They were almost toe to toe and she studied him with equal interest. His jeans were faded and hung low on his hips, his T-shirt was of the threadbare variety and looked like he’d owned it for years. And his hair was a wreck, just as hers was.

And then there was the five o’clock shadow.

It should have been a full-grown beard by now and yet it wasn’t.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want to feel it scratching her sensitive skin.

Everywhere.

Charlotte held her breath while she waited for Julian to call her out on the admission, but he didn’t. Instead, he reached up and stroked one strong finger along her cheek right before his hand cupped it. Her lips parted on a sigh and—unable to help herself—she leaned into his hand.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked softly.

“Waiting for you,” he replied, so quietly she almost didn’t hear him. And before she could respond, Julian closed the distance between them. He felt so warm and solid and wonderful that she forgot what she was going to say.

Not that it would have mattered, because Julian lowered his head and gently touched his lips to hers. There was an uncertainty to him—a vulnerability—and it was quite possibly the sexiest thing about him. She loved the fact that he was comfortable enough around her to be like this.

One soft kiss turned to two and Charlotte slowly ran her hands up his arms.

Julian’s tongue gently teased at her lips as her hands raked up into his hair.

And then she was lost.

They went from slow and sweet to nothing but need in the blink of an eye. Charlotte knew this was why she wasn’t disappointed about being stood up—no one made her feel needy and out of control the way Julian Grayson did. It didn’t matter that she never even had the opportunity to meet her date earlier, she just knew it wouldn’t have been like this.

It couldn’t.

They kissed until they were breathless and when Julian lifted his head, he began a trail of kisses along her cheek and nipped at her earlobe before shifting and resting his forehead against hers.

“Why can’t I stay away from you?” he asked, but Charlotte had a feeling the question was more to himself than her. Reaching up, he caressed her cheek. “I should be able to stay away, but I just can’t.”

Trembling, she mimicked his pose and savored the scratchiness of his jaw. “Right now, I’m kind of glad you didn’t stay away.” It was good that she was looking down and couldn’t see his reaction to her words. She knew how cagey he could be and the last thing she wanted to do was have him take off on her—not after the second-hottest kiss of her life.

“Come home with me, Charlotte,” he begged quietly. “Please.”

No words had ever sounded sweeter to her.

“We don’t have to do anything but talk, if that’s what you want.” He paused. “I’ve missed seeing you, talking to you.”

Pulling back, this time she did meet his gaze. “I’ve missed seeing you too.”

If it was possible, Charlotte would say he looked relieved and almost…grateful.

Julian reached for her hand and they walked up the beach toward his house. Neither said a word and Charlotte was thankful for these few minutes to get her emotions under control. Maybe it was the same for him.

At the foot of the stairs that led to his deck, she stopped and took her hand from his, pulling her phone from her purse. Julian looked at her quizzically.

“I promised my friend Tami I’d text her when I got home.” As soon as she said the words, she realized how it sounded. “I mean—”

“She wants to know you’re safe,” he finished for her and then caressed her cheek again. “You are, Charlotte. I promise.”

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About Samantha Chase

New York Times and USA Today Bestseller/contemporary romance writer Samantha Chase released her debut novel, Jordan's Return, in November 2011. Although she waited until she was in her 40's to publish for the first time, writing has been a lifelong passion. Her motivation to take that step was her students: teaching creative writing to elementary age students all the way up through high school and encouraging those students to follow their writing dreams gave Samantha the confidence to take that step as well.When she's not working on a new story, she spends her time reading contemporary romances, playing way too many games of Scrabble or Solitaire on Facebook and spending time with her husband of 25 years and their two sons in North Carolina.

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ONE MORE MOMENT by Samantha Chase: Excerpt & Giveaway was originally published on The Sassy Bookster