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What Jayce first ascribed to suppressants (and sheer willpower) was actually the byproduct of a serious medical condition. Viktor hasn't had a heat since he was a teenager. Every year Viktor’s hypothalamus tested the dry well of his fuel reserves and elected to divert any runoff from ovulation to more vital bodily functions (say, breathing).
Worse: It’s common knowledge that heats and ruts are strongest at their outset. Hormones fluctuate over the years; cycles settle; the body calibrates to accommodate the unruly roommate of ovulation. But Viktor’s body doesn’t have the benefit of practice. Somehow—against every natural law—Viktor, about a side glance from death and as far as a decade from his last heat, is about to nosedive into an induction furnace.
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When the temporary energy boost from his first Shimmer experiment triggers a heat, Viktor resolves to suffer the consequences alone. Needless to say, things don't go as planned.
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Peter Nureyev is an omega masquerading as an alpha. This works out fine until it doesn't.
[Reupload from 2021]
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“You know you can tell me when things are bad,” Caleb murmurs, his fingers stilling upon Kingsley’s jawline. “You won’t scare me away.”
Kingsley takes a long breath through his nose.
“Yeah. I know.”
“But?”
“Things have been…” He covers Caleb’s hands. “From what I remember from—from the others. It’s been a while. So I guess I’m out of practice.”
“Out of practice with…”
Kingsley laughs. “I dunno. Happiness? Good things? It didn’t bother me until today but for some reason I’ve felt…I feel like a square peg in a round hole all of a sudden, like me and happiness aren’t made for each other. Like it’s all too good to be true, for um. For someone…”
“Kingsley.”
“For someone like me, maybe, and I know that’s not—but there’s this—I think I hallucinated today, is the thing, and it’s got me spiraling. A little bit.”
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That soulmate AU where you get the name of your soulmate on your wrist...except instead of your soulmate, it's the person who kills you.
___“Can’t eat this,” Jon says.
Georgie looks up from her chicken sandwich. She blanches. “Jesus, Jon. You look—what’s wrong?”
Jon taps the top left side of his chest. “Name tag. Didn’t see until he gave us our food.”
“Oh. Oh! You mean...” Georgie looks around like she expects to see the grim reaper perched on a booth cushion. “Shit. Should we leave?”
“Well I mean—I don’t—I mean he might not be that Martin. And even if he were, there’s hardly anything I could do about it. You know how it is. I’d try to leave and he’d—he’d trip on his way to the kitchen and a fork would fling itself into my jugular or something.”
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Peter meets Juno when he's still with the HCPD...and Diamond.
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The officer holds up a plastic cup. “Water?”
Ah—the gruff voice from before. Peter knows better than to refuse. He sits up, then shudders from his toes to his fingertips. His ribs feel like a battered marimba. He does his best to fold away the worst of the pain, crosses his legs and holds out his hand. The officer passes him the cup. Peter drinks.
“Come to play good cop, have we?” Peter asks once he’s done.
The officer plucks the empty cup out of his hand. “Pretty sure we both know that’s an oxymoron, but thanks for the vote of confidence."
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After his stint with Miasma, Nureyev's debt collectors decide he's run late on one too many payments. As such, Nureyev never gets the chance to send Buddy his resume. Instead, he spends that year as a slave to Solar Medical Solutions.
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Juno looks up at the bed. Nureyev has turned to stare down at him. His edges catch the glow of the stars outside. When he reaches over the mattress he moves slow and fragile, the same way a morning glory opens up to the sun.
The backs of Nureyev’s fingers skim Juno’s forehead. Juno has to work very, very hard to stay still. He’s sure his heart will beat a hole through his chest.
Nureyev trails his fingers down the side of Juno’s face. Juno fights back tears as Nureyev traces the edge of his eyepatch. He cups Juno’s cheek.
t hits Juno, then. The terror of that moment, when he saw Nureyev crumpled on the floor. The fury at the people who hurt Nureyev—how useless Juno feels, that he couldn’t find Nureyev sooner. That he can’t seem to help him now.
“What did they give you?” Juno rasps.
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"Maybe he just blew his bank account on snacks for three cadets he vaguely remembers from school, two fictional aliens, and one dead man."
Keith wakes up six years in the past, mere hours before Shiro crash-lands in a Galran escape pod. With all his knowledge of the future, Keith gets a second chance at saving the universe—and Takashi Shirogane.
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With the crew's lives on the line, Peter fakes his death.
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“What do you want, Juno?”
Juno’s whole body tenses.
“I want—” His hands flex at his sides, then become fists. “God dammit, I want you to be angry at me, all right?”
Peter frowns. “I am angry at you, Juno.”
Juno pivots to face him. “Not really! Not like—that’s not—I need you to—” He gestures wildly at the world around them. “To yell at me! To scream! To—to…”
Peter remembers the look on Juno’s face when he woke up. He says, barely above the wind, “Juno. You know I’d never…”
“I know!” Juno snaps. He squares his shoulders—and then all at once the tension drains from him like a popped balloon. His arms go limp.
“…I know,” he says.
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And I know that I miss you, but I don't even know your name by Pholo
Fandoms: The Penumbra Podcast, The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
28 May 2020
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“What if who’s gone?”
Nureyev turns away from the table. His brow furrows.
“Juno?” he asks. “What are we…” He looks around. “Oh. Oh god, Juno…I don’t—”
“What if who’s gone?” Juno demands, unnerved.
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A TAZ: Balance AU
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When their new ship runs low on fuel, Buddy suggests the crew stop on Brahma.
Nureyev doesn't react well.
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“If you got to pick, what kind of daemon would you have wanted?”
The Martian sun glares down from overhead. Juno has tied his coat around his waist. Hettie hops along at his feet. Great clouds of sand roll over the dunes, faster as the wind picks up. Juno wonders whether Pereyra and the Piranha’s bodies will have been buried yet.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he asks at last.
Hettie waggles their head to dislodge some of the sand. “You know. What kind of animal would you have picked? For me to settle as.”
A Juno Steel daemons AU.
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Juno rips off the bandaid: “I can still sense your thoughts sometimes. Feel what you feel or—or taste what you taste. It’s like Miasma blurred the line between our minds and now…” He shrugs helplessly. “It’s not like a voluntary thing. Maybe there’s some way for me to stop, but I don’t know how, and…that’s part of why I didn’t tell you sooner, because I don’t know how to fix this. I want you to be able to trust me, but I…”
He can’t go on. The actual sensation has left him, but Juno can tell Nureyev’s horror well enough from the look on his face.
“What do you know?” he asks.
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Peter Nureyev and Juno Steel both die at Zolatovna's party.
Then Peter wakes up back at the front of the red carpet line.
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“I’m sorry I can’t say it,” Juno whispers.
Peter feels his body go very still. He has one arm laced over Juno’s shoulders, far enough that his hand rests crooked over Juno’s pec; once he’s regained control of his limbs, he tightens his grip. With his free hand he sets his comms onto the bedside table. He peers down at Juno where he rests tucked against his torso, gaze pinned on the far wall. He can feel the tension and misery roll off him like smoke from a chimney.
Peter fishes Juno’s hand out from under the covers. He threads their fingers. “You don’t need to. I already know.”
Juno still won’t look at him. “You deserve to hear me tell you anyway.”
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“Did…” Nureyev seems to search for the right way to phrase his next question. Finally he says, “Did your previous partners…not lie with you like this, after a scene?”
Juno’s mind flashes to the smooth plane of Diamond’s back, lit by the slatted window of their apartment. Sometimes they’d clean up, curl up under the covers, and fall asleep before Juno could snap out of his stupor. Other days they’d wait for him at the kitchen table. It was a bit of a ritual: Juno would come down from the high, clean up, and meet them for some tea or a snack.
In the present, Juno shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, uh. No? Maybe a couple times. Why would they?”
Something like fear crosses Nureyev’s face. “Juno. Do you know what aftercare is?”
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“Do you know when I decided to tell you my name?” Peter asks.
It’s one of his silent days, and the twitch of Juno’s hand betrays his surprise. He’s pressed against Peter’s back, an arm looped over his chest. He lifts his forehead from the back of Peter’s neck. “Mmn? No…I guess I don’t. When?”
Peter holds the hand cupped over his heart. He has to arrange his grip to make room for the pulse oximeter on his finger. “It was when you said you’d never tried eating cologne.”
Juno snickers. His breath skims over Peter’s skin, stirring the hairs on the back of his head. “Really?”
“Really. It only occurred to me later, as I was writing the note, that I’d been preparing to do so for several hours. And when I looked back to when…”
“That was the moment.”
“When I knew you were him,” Peter confirms sleepily. He pets the side of Juno’s hand with his thumb. “The person I wanted to share my name with.”
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Juno and Nureyev are held hostage by Elliot Harbringer, the THEIA corporation’s director of operations. Things take a turn for the worse when Harbringer decides to test the capabilities of his latest THEIA model.
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'Nureyev,
I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.
I guess I just need to get some stuff off my chest. It’s easier when I know you’re never gonna’ read this.'Juno writes letters to Nureyev, sure Nureyev will never see them.
...Except of course he does. -
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Peter can't seem to shake the memory of a seduction gone wrong. Juno struggles with decades-old trauma.
Sometimes all you can do is talk and drink tea.