#head empty PUNCH TO SOLVE PROBLEMS

[rynris]

I love Alisae so much.

[idkshithead]

having a bad day .ೃ࿐

┗━━━✦❘༻༺❘✦━━━┛

╰┈➤ ❝ seong gi-hun x fem!reader ❞

ʚɞ ๋࣭⭑ — tws: age gap (reader is 25, gi-hun is 47) mention of murder, mention of self-harm, pts.

ೀ ⋆.˚ — genre: fluff!

⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ — summary: you've had a really shitty day so when u get home from university your bf is there to comfort you and cheer you up.

・❥・ — a/n: hii! i’m new here and this is my first time publishing a ff🥹 i wrote this out of boredom so idk if it’s good. also my first language isn’t english so i’m sorry for eventual mistakes, i appreciate every kind and constructive advice on how to be better(no insults or hate tho!)<3 if i think your comment is hateful or disrespectful or anything like that, i’ll delete it! so be nice pls🫶🏻

❕ — warnings: timeline is season 2 but i changed his age. if you don’t like age gaps/have problems with them GET OUT👉🏻

enjoy! ❤︎

It was 9 PM in Ssangmun-dong and you were walking down the empty, rain-soaked street you travel every day. You were carrying a heavy backpack, the straps digging into the skin of your left shoulder, a sign that it was full of notebooks. The dim streetlights flicker, casting a dull glow across the wet floor and your footsteps were covered by the constant "pats" of the rain drops falling to the ground. The downpour was rentless and it was drenching your clothes and your nice hair but you barely seemed to notice cause your mind was wrapped up in something else. It had been a very tough day and you wanted nothing more but to be in your boyfriend's comforting arms.

His name was Seong Gi-hun. You weren't korean but you thanked God you moved there when you were 18 cause if you didn't, you probably wouldn't have met him. The day you two crossed paths was almost 4 years ago and you remember it like it was yesterday: he used to have a gambling addiction and thanks to your friend, who brought you with her to gamble, you found him. Or even better, he found you cause the very first time he bumped onto you as he was getting chased by some men; meanwhile the other times, you went to talk to him cause you found him pretty cute and...pathetic.

At the time you were 21 and he was 43 but you really didn't care about the age gap. Plus, he looked younger than he actually was. The first weeks you two started to date as close friends and soon you learned he’s got a 10 years old daughter and an ex-wife. They divorced because of his addiction which led to him having several debts that he couldn't pay. His daughter's name was Ga-yeong and she was very sweet, just like her father. She liked you even and you, of course, liked her back. As the days went by, Ga-yeong revealed you her father's secret: he liked you and every time he knew he was going to see you, he would put up nice clothes and adjust his hair; and she hoped you would like him back but God, how could you not like him? He was such a gentleman, so sweet, so respectful, so caring; this headed to both of you starting a relationship (a serious one too), and at first it was hard due to his addiction. Firstly because every time he didn't pay his debt in time, he would get beaten up and threatened to be killed. So many times you would yell at him cause he spent all his money, and the one you gave him, to gamble but you understood that yelling and getting mad wasn't the right solution of solving this, thus you got used to it and you were determined to help him go through that shit. Later you met his mom and his childhood friend whose name was Sang-woo and you were actually surprised they didn't think less of you just because you were younger. If you were in your native country, everybody would look at you as a person of no value and would think he was a pedophile, even tho you were a grown ass adult. Before him, you've been in a toxic relationship for 2 years; between cheating, threats and punches, you managed to leave that guy.

Gi-hun, on the other hand, treated you so good it was overwhelming, to the point that you didn't even think you deserved to be treated like this, to be loved and you were glad he proved you wrong so damn sure you weren't gonna let go of him just because he was older. He helped you going through your self-harm addiction, he helped you with your traumas and insecurities. Basically, he was a mix of the perfect yet worse man to date.

Not even a year later tho, he disappeared for a whole week without any news or informations. You were so fucking worried about him and you never stopped calling him and searching for him. You even talked to his mother every day but she always said she had no clue of where he was and the police, of course, didn’t give a shit. Often times you thought that he got himself killed due to his non-paid debts but you really didn't want to think about it so you liked to think that maybe he was out of town and didn't call you. Or maybe he just decided to cut off contact with everybody and left. In that time, your own self-harm addiction got worse due to the stress and the fact that he had left. Everything went down once more. Your life was falling apart and you didn’t know what to think at this point. Was it your fault? Was it his fault? You didn’t know.

Yet he eventually came back to you, all injured as if he had been in a rough fight and apologized to you so many times as you cried and punched his chest due to the all the overwhelming emotions you didn’t manage to let out. He told you he found his mom dead in his house. In some ways, you felt guilty that you didn't help him with the medicines for her cause you had some money but most of it would go to the men he had to repay. He talked about the games he’s done, about all the murdered people.

You couldn't believe him, of course and thought he was just very drunk but the day after you realized it wasn't like that.

A year later he wanted to move in America to go to his daughter but soon changed his mind when he knew that the recruiter of those games was still out there so you both moved to a motel as he searched for him all day, every day.

He barely slept and he started to smoke more, which broke your heart to see him like this. So tired, so traumatized and you realized that the old Gi-hun would never come back, even tho a part of him was still the same when he was with you. When he finished to pay his debts, thanks to the money he earned from those sick games, he called Mr. Kim, the boss of loan sharks, to help him find this recruiter.

The only times you saw each other, tho, was in the evening cause in the morning you went to university while he kept searching for that man among the city. He always apologized to you for never spending much time together but you always reassured him that it was completely okay and that it was nobody's fault. You knew how insecure he got after that traumatic event tho you tried your best to comfort him. After he lost Sang-woo, Sae-byeok and Ali; after he saw so many innocent people die because of the God called money. They all died in front of him and sometimes he could still see their blood on his face, on his hands, on his body. Everywhere.

He became even more possessive and protective over you to the point that he made you install a gps on your phone or any other device you owned, in case you’d be in trouble or something and he eventually taught you how to shoot cause you asked him.

So here you were, 2 years later, having a shitty, rough day, soaked wet due to the rain, heading back home and already feeling guilty cause Gi-hun had to comfort you from your stupid, dumb and idiotic problems. You didn't even know if he was home by that time and if he wasn't, you would go take a shower and eventually fall asleep on the couch while miserably trying to wait awake for him. As always.

When you approached the motel you both lived in, you grabbed your keys from your pocket and opened the principal door. You entered and closed it before taking your way up the stairs. Once you reached the door of your shared apartment you opened that one too, slowly closing it behind you. You weren't expecting Gi-hun to be home but when you heard his voice, you felt kinda relieved.

"Y/n? Is that you?" you heard him say. You didn't answer and you didn't know why. Maybe cause you were so tired you didn't even have the strength to breathe, to say the least.

You took off your shoes and walked through the small corridor before reaching the living room and put the keys on the round table at the center of the room. You quite ignored your boyfriend who was very worried when he saw you completely drenched.

"Hey..why didn't you bring an umbrella with you this morning?" he asked softly as he approached you and rubbed both of your shoulders. You were glad to hear his loving voice after a long day.

You let your backpack fall on the ground, causing it to make a loud noise and grabbed a small, broken umbrella which was in a side pocket of the backpack, before placing it on the table, too.

"I did." you managed to say. Your voice was barely audible and you were on the verge of breaking down, thing that he immediately noticed but before he could talk, you threw yourself onto him to hug him. Your arms wrapped around his body tightly as you cried quietly. His nice yet smokey smell invaded your nose and you took all in. You didn't pay attention to his outfit but you were so sure he was wearing his usual baggy pants and large jacket.

He didn't think twice before holding you tight against him and his right hand found its way to rub your hair while the other rubbed your back. He had this way of hugging you, of comforting you as a way to shield and protect you from the world that you didn't even know how it was possible but that's how his hugs, his touch made you feel. It has been a long time since you last cried and let go of everything in front of him but that night you really needed it.

"It's okay baby, I've got you. I'm here." he mumbled softly to your ear. He slowly started to rock himself back and forth, as if you were his little child afraid of monsters hiding under the bed.

He didn't ask you what had happened cause he knew it wasn't useful in that moment. He knew that all you wanted was comfort and reassurance. He didn't care that you were all wet and soaked, he cared about trying to make you stop crying and he managed to do so since you calmed down after some minutes. He pulled back slightly, enough for him to be able to see the sad look on your face.

He cupped your cheeks and wiped your last tears away.

"It's okay. You let it all out?" he kindly asked you and you slowly nodded. He wanted to make sure your chest didn't feel as heavy. Then he leaned in and placed a soft, tender kiss on your forehead.

"How about you go take off these wet clothes and take a shower while i prepare the couch for some cuddles to cheer that sad pretty little face up, hm?" he asked while moving a strand of hair out of your face.

"And then maybe, if you feel like doing so, you tell me what's gotten you so upset." he then added.

His voice was so soft, sweet and full of love it made you want to cry again out of happiness but you fought the urge. He somehow always knew what were the right words to say and in which tone he had to pronounce them. It was incredible. That man was incredible.

You slowly nodded and he escorted you to the bathroom as he told you to call him for anything you needed. He didn't hurry anything, he told you to take your slow and nice time, he would be there waiting for you.

You softly thanked him and closed the bathroom door, opening the water in the shower. You really didn't know what good things you did in life to have someone as loving as him as your partner but you preferred to not question anything and to just appreciate everything he gave you, everything that life (or God) gave you.

You knew he told you to take your time and to wash yourself slowly and stuff but you were so happy and enthusiastic to cuddle with him, that your shower lasted 10 minutes. When you got out, you could hear him doing stuff on the other side of the wall and you called out his name.

"Yes, my love?" said he while opening the door. He had a small yet genuine smile on his face and you knew he was doing all of that just to make you feel better.

"Can you...bring me one of your shirts..?" you mumbled.

"I know they're much larger than my size but-" you were cut off by the door closing. You didn't know exactly why he shut the door on you talking but you really hoped he didn't mean to do so. Later, he returned in the room, holding a stuffed clothed in between his hands, turning out it was one of his large shirts.

He walked towards you and handed you the cloth, before cupping your cheeks again and kissing your temple.

"You know you don't owe me any explanation. Whatever you want, i'll give it to you. You could ask me to wear my underwear and i wouldn't question it." he explained gently.

"Even tho that would be weird." he continued and chuckled slightly and you did so. You felt a warm feeling in your chest. A feeling that only he was able to bring you and you will forever be grateful to him.

"Thank you.." you murmured and smiled.

"There it is that pretty smile." he said and pinched your cheeks gently, causing you to widen your smile.

He then told you he would wait for you as you got dressed and later he dried your wet hair cause he didn't want his girl to make such efforts when she was so tired already.

A few more minutes passed by and after you got all showered, dried and dressed, you were both laying in each other's arms on the couch. Your head resting on his chest and his arms wrapped around your body while one hand stroked your soft hair.

"You feel like telling me what's wrong?" he asked softly, in which you answered with a nod.

You began by explaining that you hadn't slept much the night before, which was the main reason you woke up already feeling upset and exhausted. You were so tired that you really didn't feel like going to university, but you had a test and knew you had no choice, so you forced yourself to get up. Just when you stepped out of the apartment, it started raining heavily, and you got all wet because your umbrella wouldn't open properly. Once you finally made it to the university, you sat down to take the test, but you were so distracted by your exhaustion that you were sure you had messed up every single question. Your mind wasn't in the right place, your eyes felt heavy, and you couldn't focus. Everything felt like a disaster. After the test and the rest of your lessons, the wind picked up on your way home and your umbrella finally broke so you had nothing to protect yourself, leaving you even more soaked. And as if your day hadn't already been terrible enough, a car sped through a puddle and splashed you completely. You felt overwhelmed, defeated by the anger and stress that had built up throughout the day.

As you were telling all of this you still felt kinda upset but when he spoke again, you really forgot the reason of why your day went bad.

"I'm so sorry to hear that, my love. You should’ve called me, i would've picked you up with the car." he said with disappointment. Not towards you, but towards all the factors that made you so sad and also at himself. He could’ve gave you a call instead of focusing on finding that son of a bitch.

"I didn't want to bother you..." you mumbled, as your fingers traced comforting circles on his clothed chest.

"You know you never bother me, y/n." he said firmly. He didn't like the fact that you could even think you were a bother or a burden to him.

"Yeah but what if right when i call you, you find the guy you've been searching for years?" you asked and got your head up slightly to look at him. You could feel his hesitation before answering but when he did, you knew he was sincere.

"I'd still pick you up. As much as i wanna find that man, you come first. I didn't put so much effort in us for nothing, you know." he smiled slightly at his last sentence and placed his large hand on your face, brushing your cheek with his thumb.

"Hmm.." you murmured and sighed. You gently rested your chin on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breath beneath you and the warmth of his body comforting against your skin, while your head remained slightly turned to face him, allowing you to study his face closely. Your gaze lingered on each feature—his relaxed yet tired expression, the curve of his jaw, the corners of his lips slightly turned upward—capturing every detail that made him, him, as if you were memorizing them.

You didn't know how he managed to look that handsome for his age. Not that he was that old, but still.

"Have you been sleeping these days?" you kindly asked him. You knew, deep down, that he would always look after you, putting your needs before his own, but at the same time, you saw how little care he took of himself. It was as if he neglected his own well-being in favor of focusing on everyone else; you, above everyone. Every time you noticed him pushing himself too hard or ignoring his own health, you'd find yourself gently scolding him, urging him to take a moment for himself, though you knew he'd brush it off. In the end, this was just who he was.

"Yes, a bit." he answered and you could feel he was being honest but still decided to make sure.

"Are you sure?" your tone was low and comforting, yet full of worry. You noticed the small bags under his eyes, you noticed his tired expression and often times you would feel guilty that he had to reassure you while he was feeling so defeated.

"Yes, i'm sure." he said sweetly and pinched the tip of your nose softly.

You subtly pushed yourself up, enough to lean your face closer to his, and pecked his lips. Your chest was now in contact with his and your hands were placed one between his hair and the other on the soft mattress of the couch, surrounding yourself.

"You look so tired..." you whispered while caressing his scalp. Your faces only inches away. He moved his hand to grasp your waist while the other was still on your cheek.

"Yeah but you always bring all my energies back.." he whispered back, causing you to smile a bit.

Your eyes wavered all over his face, admiring everything about him as your pupils dilated some more, as if turning into a heart shape. You didn't know exactly what did u see in him, but you saw something. Maybe that's how real love feels like: inexplicable. Almost as if it's no sense.

Then, you sighed and looked away from him.

"I'm sorry." said you while resting your head next to his. He looked at you confused.

"For what?" he asked and adjusted himself so that he could look at you but also be in a comfortable position. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear.

You swallowed hard.

"I don't know..that you gotta take care of my shit while you're already feeling defeated and stuff.." you explained, almost whimpering.

"I notice how tired you are every day..we barely see or talk to each other before the evening and when i see you like this i feel like a burden or like i'm not doing enough for you...i don't know, i just miss you.." you added. You didn't want to add more pressure and stress on his shoulders but you needed to tell him.

You saw his expression on his face, focused on listening to you and all your rantling and he looked sad.

"Y/n..." he started.

"Honey, don't say that again. Yes i am tired but that doesn't mean i don't gotta take care of you when you feel down as well. Just because we're both not having the best of the days, it doesn't mean we gotta ignore each other or something like that. I take care of you cause i want to. Cause it makes me feel better when i manage to bring your smile back." he gently explained while playing with some strands of your hair, in a desperate attempt to soothe you.

"I'm sorry we barely see or talk to each other during the day, i wish we both had more time one for the other even tho at night i try to stay up as much time as possible, even if you are asleep cause i wanna make up for lost time." he continued, hoping you'd understand his words. You lowkey wished things went different. Wished that he never went to play those sick games.

"Yeah but...i don't know, i just wish i could do more for us, for you. You always take care of me but i never do enough to take care of you.." she said. Your tone of voice hid a hint of sadness in it.

"No, y/n. You do more than enough and that's what matters. I will always appreciate the little things you do cause i know how much effort you put into them. I know you love me, i know you care about me. I don't have to worry about anything else." he said. He knew you wouldn't believe him but he hoped that he managed to reassure you even if it was just for the moment.

You nodded slowly at his words and accepted them. You hid your face into the crock of his neck and snuggled against him, holding him as tight as you could, wanting to enjoy his company, his warmth for the night. His fingers found their ways in between your thin hair and caressed your scalp while the other hand was busy holding you against him. He wanted to protect you from everything and everyone. He wanted you to feel safe and he'd do anything to not let you get hurt.

He started to whisper reassuring words in your ear to facilitate your sleep.

“Please don’t ever leave me, Gi-hun.” you mumbled.

"I won’t, I'm here, love. I'm not going anywhere. I've got you." those were the last words you heard from him before you sweetly murmured: "I love you.." and drifted off to sleep.

He kissed your head tenderly and whispered an "I love you, too" muffled before closing his eyes and fully relaxing his body under yours, feeling his thoughts drifting away into dreams.

So there you were, both laying in each other arms after days full of stress and pressure, you allowed yourself to be vulnerable and to rest for the night.

[fluffywing-e-tarot]

Twins of Separate Paths: Fox Prince vs. War God, Round 1

Recently named Liu Qingge is out and about being his usual self, going to the farther reaches of the realm, occasionally stumbling into the Demon Realm. Fighting beasts and solving problems. 

He’s outside of his comfort zone. Being in the crowded street on a hunt for whatever was causing the disappearance of the farmers who collect the food staple of the region. He suddenly gets the irritating feeling that Shen Jiu is being his typical self. It was the hardest thing be the sect’s main attack and defence of the twelve peaks and if there Stratigyst was an absolute ass to work with. He honestly didn’t know what the state of the Sect would be in 50 years if the named Headeciple did get named the next peak lord.

He wanted to punch something. But couldn’t find the current problem to punch just yet.

“Three Pork Buns,” a voice called to a street vendor. Liu Qingge’s senses focus on the voice.

He saw an annoyingly familiar face.

Shen Jiu

So that’s why he’s irritated that the Strategyst is away from the sect. He would drag his shixiong back to the sect anyway. Shen Jue got the food and walked into the crowd, then turned into the alleyway. That confused Liu Qingge, making him hesitate to approach the strategist. So he just follows Shen Jiu.

“Alright, Kid, I've got the goods.” Shen Jiu said. The alley looked empty, and there was a shifting, and a boy emerged from a trash pile. The Kid hovered several paces away from

“Now that I have something you want, what can you tell me about the demon?” Shen Jiu said, holding out the meat buns. The Kid runs and snatches the meat buns. He then scampered away from Shen Jiu.

The kid scarfed down a bun and then looked up at Shen Jiu. “It's a face changer, and they have a phrase they like to ask about if you're hungry.”

“I see”, Shen Jiu said, “where did you see them?”

“The Eastern hills,” the kid said.

“Keep yourself safe.” Shen Jiu said. Ruffling the kids' hair. The Kid snaps his teeth at Shen Jiu's hand that touched him. Shen Jiu doesn't turn around and return to the street. Instead, he jumps onto the roof. Beginning to run in the eastern direction. The same direction, the Kid informed.

Liu Qingge follows Shen Jiu. Not wanting to lose his strangely acting shixiong. They go to the eastern hills. Traveling through the forest until they slow down, Shen Jiu walks to a cave. Liu Qingge follows sneaking behind the Shen Jiu. Why did they stop here?

“ Jin Wulian,” Shen Jiu calls into the cave.

“How do you know that name?” a person called back

“You have something of my father's.” Shen Jiu says.

Shen Jiu was an orphan; everyone knew the late addition to the Cian Qion Peak didn’t have a family. So what is this about a Father? Did he lie to Yue Shixiong? If he did, then Shen Jiu would be punished for his deception.

The Face changer or stealer, as the kid called them, slid out of the cave. The Face Stealer was wearing a feminine face. She tilts her head, examining Shen Jiu. How did he know there was a Demon there? Liu Qingge contemplates.

“I don’t know you,” the face stealer said. “ It must be someone else you're thinking of.”

Shen Jiu scoffs. “You are the first to know Jin Wulian. My father is Huwang-jun.”

 The woman’s demeanor changes. She hisses at Shen Jiu. She shifts her stance, ready for battle. “He sends a Boy.” She mocks, “That old Fox must be senile. I’ve stolen many things from him.”

Liu Qingge gripped Ciang Luan’s hilt, ready to step in. Shen Jiu shifted stance, also ready to battle. But it wasn’t in a stance ready to compensate for the weight of a sword. ‘Shen Jiu’ was preparing for hand-to-hand. Xiu Ya wasn’t on Shen Jiu’s hip. So it made sense. But another question went through Liu Qingge’s head.

‘Huwang-jun was a Demon. Shen Jiu had confessed to tutelage under a dark cultivator. Never a demon. What's this even, Shen Jiu? No, they must be a huyao. They must have copied his shixiong’s face.' Liu Qingge concluded, focusing on the battle again.

Huyao‘s fingers sharpened into claws. “I just want to confirm. You still have the Huling statue. You haven’t sold it.”

The face stealer hisses. “ If this one has?”

The Huyao attacked. The face stealer couldn’t react in time. To the precise and devastating strike. The face stealer’s true face was revealed; there was no skin on their face.

 The Huyao took the startled surprise at the speed, grinding the skin changer into the dirt.

The Huyao sat on the skin changer.

“Now, tell this one, did you sell the Huling statue?”

“That cursed thing never leaves me alone. Take it if you want, little prince.” The Huyao killed the Skin Changer a moment later.

As the Not Shen Jiu stood, he turned a looked directly at Liu Qingge. Ciang Luan was held tightly in his grip. The Shen Jiu look-alike had a glowing bronze Huaiding and demon eyes.

“Ah, you saw that?” the Demon said. Hands uncalwed as he walked back towards the cave. “Listen, Mr. cultivator. I’m not here for any human. Just a stolen relic of my old man’s.”

Liu Qingge attacked. The fox doged the attacks that Liu Qingge sent towards him. In one such attack the Fox grabbed his sword hand and sholder threw him. Liu Qingge caught himself on his feet also grappling with the Fox.  He made a sword seal with his other hand, letting Ciang Luan out of his grip. It rotated in the air and shot back towards them.

Liu Qingge grappled the demon to hold him in place. But the Huyao grabs him right back.

The Huyao is strong. Not once given a chance to break the lock they were in. That is, until at the last moment, the Huyao flipped their positions. Ciang Luan pierced him. It startled him so much that the fox was able to break the hold they were locked in. The Huyao danced away.

“That was dangerous, Mr. Cultivator,” the Huyao Laughed. Something that Shen Jiu never did. “But this one doesn’t have time to flirt with you.”

Liu Qingge was attempting to hold the wound so he could kill the infuriating bastard. He stood up. Hearing the shuffling from the cave. 

He blinks, and the Huyao is in front of him.  The demon’s hands held him until something solid pressed against his back. It seems he was propping him against a tree.

“Mr. cultivator, should give up on the fight today. This Huwangzi isn’t here to kill,” the Huyao said. “Mr. Cultivator is injured and shouldn’t continue.”

The demon walks away from Liu Qingge’s grip, starting to head towards the village.

“Wait.” Liu Qingge wheezed. His lungs ache a slight whistle comes around his sword.

He needs to know how the Demon knows the face of one of the students of the sect.

“Face” was all that came out.

“Oh, does Mr. Cultivator have a crush on this one?” the Shen Jiu look-a-like smiles like the dawn. “You’ll have to fight better. This one isn’t interested.” 

Liu Qingge blacks out.

He wakes up.

To the scent of herbs and tonics.

“You're lucky to be alive,” someone said, probably a doctor. That wasn’t Mu Shidi, “if XiaoChi hadn’t found you. What were you doing out there?”

“I lost.” Liu Qingge says. But there was a desire to fight the demon again.

Original post & Master list

Next

Previous: Mobei-jun's Pet

[yuma-mukami-garden-god]

Reiji x s/o who is exactly like Shuu with a listless attitude and only find peace rotting on a couch but has incredible potential that shines once in a blue moon, that Reiji notices and can't help but admire but also loathes that he's invested in somone who's against all his standards. Basically a lazy intelligent s/o that stresses and intrigues Reiji.

A Thorn in the Mind

It was the third day in a row he found you on the chaise lounge, draped like a corpse, one leg dangling dramatically off the edge, your arm across your eyes.

“You’ve done nothing again,” Reiji said, venom calm in his tone. “The list I gave you remains untouched.”

You didn’t even look at him. “Thinking about doing it is as exhausting as doing it.”

He ground his teeth. “You are capable of excellence. I’ve seen it.”

You yawned. “Yeah. Once. That’s your quota.”

He hated you.

He loathed how you challenged his order simply by existing like entropy personified. You were the embodiment of wasted brilliance, and yet—he watched you like one watches a bomb. Not out of fear… but anticipation.

Because when you did act—when you silenced a room with a single, razor-edged observation or solved a problem he’d obsessed over in seconds—it wasn’t laziness. It was restraint. Calculated chaos.

And he hated that it thrilled him.

Tonight was one of those nights.

He entered the library, ready to scold you again, only to find the firelight flickering off ink-stained fingers and open books. You didn’t notice him—too engrossed. You murmured theories to yourself, your tone sharp and clear, eyes lit with rare purpose.

He felt it in his chest like a punch.

“You could change the world if you tried,” he whispered before he could stop himself.

You looked up. Smiled sleepily. “Then maybe the world’s lucky I don’t.”

He walked away before he could say something foolish. Something real.

Because nothing unsettled Reiji Sakamaki more than loving something messy… and brilliant.

And you were both. He was determined to make you his.

The next day, you were sprawled on the chaise again, wrapped in a throw blanket like a human burrito, eyes half-lidded as you nursed a cup of tea he had brewed, because apparently you were “too emotionally exhausted” to function.

He should’ve walked away. Like always.

But tonight… something was different.

The air was heavy. Electric.

You looked up at him and gave that insufferable, languid smile. “Let me guess. I’ve failed your expectations again, Reiji?”

His jaw clenched. “Do not twist your mediocrity into wit.”

“Ouch.” You sipped your tea, unbothered. “Still doesn’t make me want to move.”

“You never want to move,” he snapped. “You have more potential than half the people I know combined, and you squander it for naps and empty stares at the ceiling. Why?”

You blinked, then shrugged. “Because it’s easier to rot in peace than live to your standards.”

That was the moment.

He snapped.

In three steps, he was on you—grabbing the cup from your hand and setting it aside, fingers threading into your hair, tilting your head back. You didn’t resist. You never did. You just stared up at him like he wasn’t the furious storm curling around you.

And it made him angrier.

“You drive me insane,” he hissed. “You mock discipline, ignore structure, and act like brilliance is a burden you never asked for.”

You smiled lazily. “And yet you keep coming back.”

“Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Then he kissed you.

Hard. Deep. Desperate. It wasn’t gentle or composed—it was everything he’d been denying himself. His hand tightened in your hair, the other gripping your waist like he wanted to mold your slouching spine into something sharp and straight.

You kissed him back like it cost nothing—like surrender was your default—and that drove him mad.

When he finally pulled back, lips swollen, breath harsh, you touched his cheek, sleepy-eyed and smug.

“Told you I was dangerous when motivated.”

[siriuslychessi]

Day 03 - No

For @jilymicrofics April prompt list: Affectionate April.

Read in AO3 and FF.net

No. 

Just a word that was getting too much power for James’ liking. 

Usually words could be helpful, they could help him build a map, help his friend with his Furry Little Problem, explain how a broom could move to get a better hold on it and learn a manoeuvre. 

Yet ‘No’ had James in shambles for longer than any other word had.

And the word had not even been uttered last time he tried to ask Lily Evans out.

Yes, he knew, logically, that a few years had been since the time he had been an idiot and hanged her best mate from his ankle. Not that Snape hadn’t deserved it at the time, but that was a weird way to ask someone out on a date. He supposed he was dreading the “no” as much as he was now.

But James was in Gryffindor. He was supposed to be brave, wasn’t he?

He was sure that if Godric Gryffindor had met Lily Evans he would have been terrified too. She was gorgeous, yes, but she was smart, funny, and had a mean slug hex that would make anyone reconsider getting on her bad side. 

Which was why James was dreading going up and asking the redhead for the next Hogsmeade Weekend. 

‘No’ felt devastating, more so than the prospect of a hex or jinx. It felt like it would make everything good in the world disappear. 

If his mother was around she would remind him that he was 16 and that probably that was why he felt like everything was so daunting. 

“If you don’t go over there and ask her, I will.” James heard a voice next to him say. 

He didn’t need to turn to see his best mate, Sirius, resting on the sofa, legs on top of the coffee table as he wrote someone on the Evening Prophet, probably solving the crossword puzzle. 

“It would be embarrassing for my best mate to ask someone on a date for me.” James replied. 

“That’s not how I meant it, and you know it.” Sirius answered without skipping a beat, “You have two more words before I make my move.”

James knew Sirius’ threat wouldn’t be empty, but he wanted to banter a bit, make more time, delay the (literal or not) upcoming punch. But Sirius could see through his bullshit. He always could.

Sighing, he ran his hand through his hair nervously and stood up, “Wish me luck.” he mumbled, more to himself than to his mate.

“Don’t forget your wand, you could at least use Protego if needed.” Sirius said, not taking his eyes from the paper. James always forgot his wand when he was nervous or tired.

James rolled his eyes and turned to grab his wand from the sofa, “Always so supportive.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” James heard Sirius reply as he made his way towards Lily Evans.

Once Sirius knew James’ focus was not on him he put the paper down. He wanted to see how it would all develop, he wasn’t sure Evans would reject James, but his best mate was so nervous he might have fallen on his face before getting to the redhead. 

James' body felt restless as the horrible word kept playing in his head, he was sure he was walking the plank towards rejection. His hand wanted to ruffle his hair one more time, he remembered Lily not exactly liking that particular quirk of his, so the hand stayed put.

His palms were sweating, it was the middle of winter, yet his body reacted oddly. Quidditch never made him so nervous, he was not sure why Lily had him react like that.

On the other side of the room was Lily Evans, sitting on a table with Mary MacDonald, both doing homework and chatting. It was good that Lily was not surrounded by half of the Common Room, James was not sure she would like another public asking. And he knew the No would come with a hex due to public displays.

Mary was nice, she sort of liked James enough to not make him more nervous. 

Arriving to the table he cleared his throat, both girls turned to see him.

“Evans, MacDonald.” he greeted.

“Potter,” Lily replied with a kind smile. Lately she did not seem to dislike him as much. 

“Can we help you with anything?” Mary asked.

James blushed a bit, he hoped that they wouldn’t see it. “Actually, I wanted to talk to Evans for a moment. Would you mind?”

Lily seemed to be about to protest but Mary was quicker. “Not at all, I need to stretch my legs for a bit and grab the Herbology book. I’ll be back to finish the assignments.” she told this last to Lily who seemed to want to convey something with her eyes that Mary ignored.

James just swallowed hard, because he knew that this was already going terribly wrong.

“So… Evans, do you have any plans for the upcoming Hogsmeade weekend?” James said quickly, hoping to soften the blow of the rejection.

“Why are you asking?”

“I… eh…” James swallowed hard, Sirius’ threat in the back of his mind, his heart racing as he thought of the upcoming rejection. “I was wondering if you would like to go with me?” he said almost too quietly.

“With you, alone?” Lily asked. James felt the cold sweat down his spine.”

“Yes…?” he answered tentatively.

The redhead took a good look at him, James’ heart wouldn’t last much longer under the green gaze. 

She folded her arms over her parchment, leaning forward towards James, a tiny amused smile on her lips. “Ask me properly.”

“I… what?” James blinked, not sure if he was about to be humiliated or not, but he was surprised that he was not outright rejected.

“Ask me properly. If I’m going to say yes I need a proper question.” a faint blush could be seen on her cheeks, but she didn’t want to give much more than that away.

‘Yes’, a word of hope resonated in James' mind. Of course Evans wouldn’t play with him, she was better than that, he was an idiot to even consider it.

“Lily Evans, would you like to go on a date with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?” James asked, properly, no stuttering or quietly, just loud enough for her to hear.

“I would love to, does 12 sound good? I would like to sleep in.” she offered with a smile on her face, the blush on her cheeks more prominent, but James was just focusing on her answer, how she was so confident and affirmative, and… they were going out!

“Perfect.” James replied with a smile. 

“It’s a date.” she declared, as Mary came back from the dorms. 

James nodded, and said bye to the girls, leaving them to giggles and gossip. He should have learned a long time ago that when he asked Lily Evans out, a simple “no” was never an option for an answer.

[tvgals]

‘ CHILL OUT ‘

pt.4

— e42! miles morales x black! fem! reader

synopsis — you finally solve the problem with jaya and simultaneously heal your relationship with miles.

cw : — the dorms aren’t like the canon ones ( they’re more like apartments ), jaya gets her ass beat, descriptions of injuries, good girls makes a cameo, you somewhat?? forgive miles, this is the end of this series btw (excluding headcanons) ALSO DRABBLE TO COME NEXT ABOUT WHAT HAPPENS TO JESS

you walked out of miles’ dorm room to see jaya just outside, her eyes widen. “y/n! hey girl!” you look her up and down and look in her hands, filled with snacks and drinks. “what’s that for?” you mumble, looking back up at her. “just some food for miles. i know he must be heartbroken with the way you blamed him for your insecurity and broke up with him.” jaya smirks, watching you slowly lose your mind. you stare at her for a second and take a deep breath.

“when i was in there, miles said you were a liar and you tried to get put on with him.” you shrug your shoulders and bite back a smile. “but what do i know?” jaya curls her glossed lips into a smile. “i know that miles called my phone just last night talkin’ ‘bout some he needed a rebound girl, and here i am.” you pull your hair back with a loose hair tie on your wrist. “put allat lame ass shit down and cmon.” you spat at her balling up your fists and squaring up. “you not finna do this shit inna hallway, bro.” jaya nervously laughs. you look around and curl your lips into a straight smile. “you don’t know what i’m gon’ do and what i’m not gon’ do.” you tell her. you watch her put everything down and empty out your pockets, you notice your lipgloss that you lost — and jaya is currently wearing it. you waste no time in bringing your arm around to connect with her cheek, knocking her down. you get on top of her and start throwing punch after punch, jaya trying to retaliate with weakly pushing her hands into your face. all the commotion worked up a group of some people in the hallway, the person you’re fighting over nowhere to be seen.

“ma’! y/n, get off of her.” is all you hear before you feel getting pulled off of jayas body. you look at her face as it drips blood into the floor, her top lip swollen and multiple knots on her forehead forming. “i’m finna beat her ass, bro. let me go.” you groan, thrashing in miles’ arms. “you already did yo’ damage.” miles chuckles, dragging you inside before helping jaya up. “tell yo’ bitch to watch her back.” jaya mean mugs you before picking up her stuff and walking off, you poke your head out of miles’ doorway to get one last lick.

“and give me back my lipgloss, hoe!” you pull your head back into his dorm room and sit on his couch. “damn. didn’t know you had it in you.” miles grins, walking into his kitchen to grab two bowls, two spoons, and a carton of cookies and cream ice cream. he walks into his living room and sits down next to you, handing you a bowl.

“i hope you know we not cool, miles.” you tell him, scooping ice cream out of the container. “i know, baby. and it’s all my fault. give me another chance?” he asks, scooping his own ice cream out. “i’ll think about it. for now, just turn on good girls and we’ll be good.” you giggle, taking a bite out of your ice cream.

“you got it bro.” miles laughs, turning good girls on the tv and pulling your legs onto his lap.

“i know.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

TAGLIST ; — @neteyamsmunch @nekoweb @laylasbunbunny @brittney69 @mistuiq @venusluvslove @mangolog @ohmaiscool15 @ohsanghoe @garnetj @guapaneeseb @samdwitch @cloudniteee @azadabts @elitesanjisimp @theyfwkayla14 @lennielane @kelesisworld @aaliyahlia-babyy @markleedreams @violxtbxbyy @pinkluvrr @yourrfavzxri @noraloralei @neteyamsz @sanrioglocks

[cybernecromancer365]

Alex/Olivia headcanon I wrote a long time ago. It got lost and I never really finished it. Apologize in advance for mistakes.

The Parent-Teacher Conference

Alex rushed into an empty classroom where two occupants waited in silence. “Hi, Sorry I’m late.”

Noah perked at her voice, lifting his head from the desk.

The teacher looked up from where she sat at the head of the classroom and sized Alex once. “You are?”

“Right, we haven’t met.” Alex held out her hand. “Alex Cabot. You called about Noah.”

“Yes…I called his mother.”

“Olivia can’t make it.”

The teacher waited for an explanation.

“I-I’m the…other mother.”

The teacher watched her, her brow lifting at the phrase “Other Mother”.

“I have the power of attorney if you need to see it, and you’re welcome to call Olivia to verify.” Alex said but the teacher continued to stare. “You get it, right? I don’t have to explain.”

The woman’s face lit up. “Oh!”

And there it was, the light bulb finally came on.

“I had no idea.”

“Most don’t. Olivia likes to do the school thing.” Alex glanced to Noah. “What happened?” She started in Noah’s direction; the boy averting his gaze as they both closed in on him.

“Noah, would you like to explain what you did?” The teacher said from beside her.

Noah shook his head.

Alex took a small chair from one of the kid-sized desks and sat next to Noah. “What happened?” At Noah’s silence she pushed. “Noah.”

“He punched one of the kids in the face today. The two were caught fighting on the playground.”

Alex watched him. “Better have a good reason.” At her words she turned to the teacher hovering in front of them, the woman silent. “O-Of course Olivia and I don’t condone violence.” Alex cleared her throat.

“He’s been in detention for the remainder of the day.” The teacher softly finished and Alex's brow furrowed.

“Since when?”

“The incident was before lunch.”

“He’s been sitting here the entire day?” Alex stood, hoping her stature intimidated the shorter woman. “Has he been doing anything productive?”

The teacher backed up a step as Alex’s gaze bored into her. “A few worksheets—”

“Christ.” Alex scoffed. “And what lesson did he learn from worksheets?” Alex didn’t want an answer, and held her hand out for Noah to take. “Come on Noah.”

Noah picked up his Spiderman backpack and took her hand.

“You have to understand that our job is to teach and create a positive learning environment—”

“Then you’ve ineffectively done your job.”

“Excuse me?”

“Do you know why he did it? Did anyone try to solve the problem?”

The teacher held back a scoff but her attitude was clear in her smirk. “Ma’am. This is not a courtroom.”

Alex looked away with a smile. “You really have no idea who you’re talking to”, she wanted to say, but saw Olivia’s disapproving look in her mind’s eye and held her tongue.

“And Lord knows I don’t get paid enough for it to be one.” The woman paused. “Is it possible some things get overlooked? Yes. My job is to teach and take care of 39 other children. I don’t always have time to solve the problem.”

Alex clenched her jaw and started out of the room with Noah’s tiny hand clutched in hers. “Bitch.” She murmured the word under her breath.

“Bitch!” Noah shot back—

“Noah!”

Her heart raced but she didn’t dare turn back and apologize. Outside the door Alex gave his arm a little tug to get his attention. “Cool it.” She looked forward and continued weaving through the school. “The last thing we need is for you to get expelled.” Noah’s little legs raced to keep up with her stride as she retraced her steps to the school's exit.

Spotting the Mercedes at the curb Noah wriggled out of her grasp and ran to the car, his backpack bouncing off his back as he smiled and raced to his freedom.

At the car she opened the door and took his backpack; Noah readying a climb into the backseat.

“Not yet.” Alex said and Noah turned over his shoulder, trying to maintain an innocent look on his face, though Alex saw the apprehension in his eyes. “I want to talk to you.” Alex crouched in the grass and touched his shoulder. “Come here.”

“I’m sorry.” He said preemptively, likely hoping it would solve everything. He made a hurried attempt to get into the car, but Alex caught his hand.

“No. Come here.”

Alex took Noah’s other hand, holding both his small hands in hers. She’d watch these hands grow, and one day they’d be larger than hers. “Why did you punch that boy in the face?”

Noah looked down.

Alex gave his hands a squeeze. “Noah. Look at me.” She waited until he complied, his dark brown eyes slowly dragging up to hers. God, he looked so much like Olivia sometimes. “Why?”

“He said I shouldn’t have two moms…”

A jolt raced down her back, and anxious dread swelled in her chest. The color drained from her face and her heart thumped.

“He said it’s weird…and I’m weird.”

Alex looked down with a sigh as she struggled to find the right words. She never wanted him to have a hard time because of them, but in truth, she was waiting for it to happen. “Okay…listen little dude.” She looked into his eyes. “Some people are not going to approve of your mother and I being together. And to them it might be weird, but that’s okay.” She squeezed his hands. “The only thing that matters is that we love you, very much. Okay?”

Noah nodded and Alex let his hands go. She went to stand but he blindsided her, locking his arms around her neck in a flash, hugging her a little too tight. “I love you too”, came his soft admission over her shoulder.

Alex froze with her arm around his small body. Her throat dried at his words and for a second her brow tensed. ‘What?’

He'd never said that before.

This wasn’t her son but Olivia’s. It was Olivia he loved. Her and Olivia hadn’t even married yet, and the idea wasn’t planned anytime soon. She barely held any legal custody of him. She came into his life after he’d solidified his unbreakable bond with Olivia. Three years later she was still trying to understand him, get to know him. She still mulled over how to get things right and what to do in certain situations with him. Olivia always reassured her but nothing she did for him felt like enough.

She saw her reflection in the car’s glossy door panel and felt her tears fall down her cheeks. She quickly wiped them away and hugged him a little tighter. “I wouldn’t trade you or your mother for the world.” She let him go and gently took his small shoulders, looking into his eyes. “But next time, don’t punch him in the face.” Alex poked Noah in the stomach to get a smile from him.

“Are you gonna tell mom?”

“Yes.”

Noah’s eyes widened at her words.

“You…” She poked him again. He didn’t smile. “…don’t worry about that.”

[lifblogs]

Strangers

Written for Angstpril 2025 hosted by @chaos-company. Day 1: Forgotten Fandom: The Bad Batch Rating: Teen and Up Audiences Word Count: 913 Summary: Crosshair feels lonely surrounded by strangers after his squad left Kamino and are traitors to the Empire. READ ON AO3

Crosshair couldn’t sleep. His head ached, and his body was sore from how much he’d tensed during the procedure he’d undergone. And now he was supposed to sleep with strangers in barracks that had been Clone Force 99’s, that had been his and his family’s. Now they were nothing. Like they’d been blasted and burned away. There was only the Empire now, and even with all its wonders, it still fell flat compared to Hunter. But it couldn’t. It wouldn’t.

He was glad to have a leadership position after being beneath Hunter for years. Sure, Hunter had been a good leader at times, but his judgement had failed repeatedly since Order 66. He was a mess, a liability, and now a traitor. And for what—some girl they’d only just met? Crosshair wished he had been able to shoot the annoying brat, or that he had even strangled her when they were imprisoned together. Maybe it would have solved all his problems.

No Omega?

Good. No pathetic child at Hunter’s heel.

His team wouldn’t have deserted him.

Maybe.

Crosshair couldn’t figure it out, and the longer he lay in his bunk listening to the unfamiliar breathing and sleeping sounds of those around him, the more he wanted to punch something, yell at somebody, find Tarkin or whoever he was reporting to and complain.

But he couldn’t complain. After all, he’d wanted this. He’d wanted to be believed in. He didn’t really understand all that had been told to him about a chip, didn’t understand the experiments. He just knew he had to serve the Empire. And his squad had abandoned him for his loyalty. Wasn’t the Republic the Empire? They’d been loyal to the Republic. So what was the problem?

I’m the problem.

That had to be it.

But what was wrong with him?

What is wrong with me?

Crosshair held in a growl, and decided he’d shower (with actual water) to try and get rid of some of his frustrations.

Yet when he finally was alone, and was under the too-hot water, wreathed in steam so blinding he couldn’t see his loneliness, he couldn’t move. He couldn’t clean himself. He just stood there, holding his torso as if he were trying to hold in his blood, his organs, something broken, and wishing he could piece it back together. Maybe if he pushed hard enough, held on tight enough, he could fix what hurt inside.

He expected to hear Tech yapping at him from another stall, still unable to shut up while doing menial things.

He expected Wrecker being immature as always and splashing him or Hunter.

He expected Echo telling Wrecker to cool it before Hunter could step in.

He expected Hunter to be humming to himself from another stall.

Aside from the running water and its splash against the dark floor, only silence met him.

Crosshair was alone.

This had been his home, and now, without them, was it still his home?

The stark halls and architecture left him aching, reminiscing about training with his family. The raging storm outside only served to make him feel trapped, and so alone, like he was also nothing but the endless water surrounding them. There was nothing else.

No one else.

“Why?” he found himself asking the emptiness, clutching harder at his sore abdomen.

His aching head was bowed, and he tried to hold in his tears, the burning at the corners of his eyes, the hitching breaths his lungs begged for, the way his insides hurt like there was something wrong with him, like he was bleeding inside.

Crosshair had been taken from their cell, and then… then they were different. They had all been ready to just leave him.

And he had to ask himself: had he ever mattered?

Was I ever important?

Was I ever enough?

Am I enough?

Who am I without them?

Who are they without me?

What makes someone family?

Why did they leave me?

Do they care about me?

Did they?

Crosshair didn’t know who he was without them, didn’t even know how to be an officer, how to care about other people that weren’t them, his brothers, the ones he’d cared for, learned with, fought beside, aided in battle, bled with, healed, joked with, even laughed with, cried with. Now where were they? How was he to care for others beneath him?

What would be the point?

Those strangers weren’t his family.

Crosshair was surrounded by emptiness, by strangers, all alone, without even the Marauder to give him solace, offer him comfort. His belongings had still been on that ship. Did his autonomy truly mean so little? Did the things he cared about mean nothing to them? Maybe they were the strangers, too.

Crosshair imagined he could hear the waves crashing and roiling around Tipoca City, as they did within him.

The rain pelted down, and the salty tears released from him, falling down his cheeks.

He held a hand over his mouth so the emptiness wouldn’t hear him cry. And maybe he could hide it from himself too.

This wasn’t real.

It couldn’t be.

He didn’t remember falling to his knees, the hot water falling over his head, his face, till he could barely breathe, till his face stung and burned. It didn’t register as pain in his numbed state.

All he truly realized and remembered, was Hunter fleeing, the Marauder leaving the hangar, Kamino, home, Crosshair.

Me.

Even he himself was a stranger now.

[manic-pixie-aquarius]

Soooo I haven't been active on here but here's a snippet of a short story I started writing last month! Idk, lemme know if any of you find it interesting bc I'm thinking of refining it and then putting it on Ao3

It's mostly from Mike's POV but switches to Will's at one point too. Takes place in a theoretical post-s5 Snow Ball? And this is post Mileven breaking up so Mike is reaaaally deep in his pining over Will and the painting hasn't been fully addressed yet bc things just got back to normal and everyone's tryna have fun

Here:

I must look like a sulking idiot sitting here at this empty table while all my friends are having fun, but I can’t bring myself to enjoy the moment, there is still a lot on my mind and I can’t believe everyone is acting like nothing happened. Max and Lucas are dancing together again and after the song ends El comes back to dance with Dustin. 

I feel eyes on me. 

“Don’t feel like dancing?” Will asks me. 

I look up, startled that I didn’t hear him coming. I just nod no. He takes a seat next to me. 

“Me neither” he says with a scoff. 

I smile, maybe for the first time tonight.

“I’m honestly too tired after all that setting up” he continues. 

“It looks nice” I say, taking in my surroundings as if I haven’t done so already multiple times tonight. It does look neat. 

Will smiles.  

“So, what about you? Why are you here? Dustin and Lucas seem to be having fun over-” he looks back to where they were dancing earlier but now Dustin and El are dancing alongside Lucas and Max.  “oh” he says, then gives me a reassuring look, “sorry.” 

I shake my head, “it’s okay.” 

Some girl approaches us and we both look up. 

“Um, excuse me I was wondering if you’d like to dance” she says reaching a hand out flirtatiously towards Will. 

“Oh! Uh, sure” he says, and gets up, and they slow dance to a slow song. 

Hey, if we can solve any problem 

Then why do we lose so many tears? 

Oh and so you go again 

When the leading man appears 

I do another scan of the room and everyone is dancing, some couples kissing, probably for the first time. Jonathan is very reluctantly dancing along to the song because Nancy has forced him to. Ew, romance. I have to focus on something else. I look to the punch table and see Robin and Vickie talking, laughing. Everyone is having a good time, its honestly sickening. I can’t help but look back at Will and suddenly the lack of emotion I’ve been dealing with all day turns into a pit at the center of my stomach as We Belong by Pat Benatar plays. I have to go. I get up and rush through the crowd and push the double door to the gym maybe a little bit too aggressively because some couple on the other side of the door have these offended faces and the guy says, “what the heck?!” and he has bright pink lipstick marks on his face. But then he sees the tears in my eyes and decides to leave it alone. I walk towards the bathroom. 

“Why didn’t you do something?” his girlfriend squeaks. 

“Did you see his face? Probably got rejected. Babe, you know how I feel about that, you rejected me a year before I got these sick guns” he says and flexes. I roll my eyes and then as soon as I get into the men’s bathroom, I cross my arms on the sink and put my head down and start to cry, hoping nobody else is in here. I hear a toilet flush and someone walks out of the stall, great. At least it’ll be a stranger and not one of my friends. 

“Wheeler?” I hear in a familiar voice. Steve. I try to stabilize myself before lifting my head. I look up to him and he says “ohh, shit.” 

To Be Continued...LOL (I have a lot more written and the next part is my favorite because it's Steve giving Mike advice but...you'll have to wait)

[shizucheese]

Tonight we head back into the Empty so we can continue to solve our problems by turning them into primals and then punching them! You know the drill folks! We're doing this MINE with 6 people!

Catch me on Twitch and YouTube every Sunday starting at 4:30 Central and every Tuesday and Wednesday starting at 7:30 Central, as well as on Fridays, starting at 8:00 Central, for Friday Night Writes!

We’ve hit 200 subs thanks to some very generous gift donations. I’m not updating the sub goals until I have a chance to fulfill the rewards for the goals we’ve already met (2 more MINE Savage tiers or EX trial series AND an Ultimate ;w;). We also managed to get back up to 100 subs and stay that way until I finished base Shadowbringers, so you can look forward to me doing the Nier raids on BLM! February’s 100 sub reward: Unlocking and leveling Blue Mage in FFXIV!

February’s Charity is the National Runaway Safeline!

Current Ko-fi donation goal is to raise money so I can commission an artist for Twitch panels!

Also be sure to join the Pantry Discord to join in on community and hijinks!

[heroofshield]

Whumptober Day 9: Obsession (ME:A, Reyes/Ryder)

Some would say that Reyes was obsessed with the Pathfinder.

He would reply that he saw the strategic advantage in making the Pathfinder an ally in the fight for control of Kadara Port.

He'd made the decision in trying to get the Pathfinder long before he realized that it was Alec Ryder's daughter in the position, but once he learned that fact it changed his plans. Instead of highlighting the alliance with the Resistance, he'd play the rogue and helpful hand in solving some of the many problems the port presented.

"A little game of cat and mouse never hurt anyone." he thought while taking a sip of the glass of whiskey in his hands. His omni-tool buzzed as he set the glass on the table in front of him and he opened it to see a message from his spy in the loading bay.

Tempest just landed.

Letting a half-smle appear, Reyes opened the feed to the bay in time to see Ryder and some of her crew disembarking.

He'd be the first to admit that Ryder was attractive, but at same time knew that he needed to keep his distance so he didn't lose focus of his goal to wrestle control of the port from Sloane Kelly.

"Which is why I need to endear the Pathfinder to me. Luckily that can be easily arraigned." he thought as Ryder waved to her crew and peeled off from them.

He continued to watch as she headed towards the elevator that led to the slums of the port, switching feeds in time to see her exiting onto the acidic pool covered ground. "Any minute now." he murmured out loud, absently reaching for the glass and finishing it in a smooth motion.

Setting the now empty glass back down, he continued to watch as she made her way towards the collection of pre-fab buildings that defined Tartarus and the few barely legal business's that Kelly allowed to exist down here (for a price of course). Movement from the top of the screen caught Reyes's attention and he straightened as a small gang of humans sauntered to where the Pathfinder was.

He'd chosen the number carefully, too few and she could easily take them out while too many and she'd be seriously hurt. Reyes didn't want that, just the right amount of pressure and then he'd appear with a quip and a right hook.

"It also helps that they've been promised good positions within the Collective once we win the port." Reyes watched as the gang surrounded Ryder slowly, giving her room to move but still making it so she couldn't escape easily. She put a hand on her hip, above where her pistol was but didn't draw it; probably making a quippy remark that she was known to do when she felt threatened.

Good. That meant she was going to make it an equal fight.

"Not that I hadn't planned for her pulling her gun."

Reyes stood as one of the leaders threw the first punch and Ryder ducked, twisting as she moved so she could throw an elbow- catching his chin as he went by. The rest followed and Ryder held them off for a few more minutes than he had thought, which only made Reyes's admiration for the Pathfinder grow that much more; she was handy in a fight, he would admit that.

Then the other men gained the upper hand, landing punches and shoves that Vidal knew would leave a mark, and he knew that his time to 'stumble' onto the scene had arrived.

Smoothing back his hair, Reyes closed his omni-tool and stepped out of his private room in Tartarus, the music and conversation filling the room before cutting off once more as the door slid shut.

Enter stage right.

[livfastdieyoung69]

NO THREATS, SIMPLY PROMISES

APRIL 9TH, 2001- RAW IS WAR

TWO-MAN POWER TRIP & STEPHANIE MCMAHON VS THE HARDY BOYZ & LITA

It had gone too far.

At first, the match truly was as fair as it would have been with Stephanie and Triple H being involved, but as it continued Lita had gotten the pin over Stephanie, and it was clear to see the losing men were furious. Neither woman had been legal and like every wrestler would, and has, in their situation, they resulted to violence. The Hardys and Lita were brutally assaulted and left with no help- Y/N had been locked in the janitor's closet much earlier on in the evening thanks to Stephanie, which explained their hiatus from what was supposed to be their prior match.

It hadn’t taken them very long to give up on trying to get out, sitting on the grimy floor of the closet, foul thoughts wandering through their head of just what they would do to that trash bag of a woman. Luckily, the Holly family's adventure with the Hard Core belt had somehow ended up with Crash having the key and quickly shoving Y/N out to take cover for whoever the hell was after him.

“Hey! Hey, what time is it?” It hadn’t taken long to find a staff member, not giving their wobbly legs any time to recover from the new feeling of walking after such a long time.

“Where the hell have you been? The night just ended a couple of minutes ago!” Their response struck anxiety, the mans rude tone bringing more anger than they already held.

“Stephanie locked me in a goddamn closet, where's the Hardys and Lita? Did they win?”

“Sure, they won, but they sure as hell don’t look like it, ‘specially that younger Hardy. The paramedics are looking at em’.” Y/N’s jaw clenched, eyes hardening.

“Where’s Stephanie?”

“Um…I don’t think I should tell you that-“

“Where is she.”

And there she was. Alone, her husband leaving for the showers at just the right time, leaving her to simply walk to the halls. Alone. Not quite, though, Y/N was trailing behind her with fists aching to punch, knuckles yearning to bleed.

Resentment flowed through them, seemingly building as their breath became louder, giving them away to Stephanie who turned and quickly began to stumble backward with wide eyes at the sight of the infuriated wrestler.

“Y/N- I-”

“Really thought you were gonna get away with this, huh?” Words filled with such venom that it darkened their voice to what didn’t seem possible, Stephanie unable to even continue her stuttering and instead began trying to run. Yet she had nowhere to go, no husband to run to, just the empty halls echoing with her yells for help as Y/N caught up to her.

“You think you can hurt my man like that and get away with it? Huh? You think you can lock me away and it’ll solve all of your problems?” Y/N spoke with as much anger they were putting into their actions, Stephanie becoming louder the longer their attack lasted. Hands which lusted for blood wrapped around Stephanie's throat, forcing panic-filled eyes to meet their own.

“I swear to god, I’ll kill you. If any of you ever put your goddamn hands on him again, I swear to god, I’ll do it.” The words were whispered through haggard breath, and with the tightening of Y/N’s fingers it didn’t seem like they would get another chance to even try to mess with Jeff.

But the chance was ripped from Y/N just as they were ripped off of Stephanie and brought back to the chaos of the rest of the world, consciousness returning and only now realizing the many other superstars that had been surrounding them. Gripping at the hands that covered their torso in an attempt to get back at the women gasping for air on the ground, it seemed to be impossible.

“I’ll kill you! You hear me? I’ll fucking kill you!” With no way of escaping the grip of who held them- who was made clear to be Jeff from the familitary of the hold- Y/N continued yelling their promises while being dragged away.

“Stop. N/N, c’mon, it’s over. Y/N!” Jeff has started with a comforting whisper but with Y/N’s refusal to stop shouting, he resorted to the same. At their sudden stumbling back into his figure and the end of the verbal abuse, Jeff held them tighter. “Yeah, there ya go. It’s over, alright? I got you, baby, it’s over.”

“Sorry, sorry-“ They tried through rapid breaths but Jeff simply shushed them. “I hate her. I hate all of ‘em. Just hate when you're hurt. Hate it so much.”

“I know, I know you do. Doesn’t mean you get to strangle people.” The scorning only received a scoff and an eye roll, making Jeff’s hold move up, playfully and carefully wrapping around their neck, bringing their head to lay on his shoulder. “I gotta keep my eye on you, hm? Make sure you don’t start stranglin’ people on a normal basis?”

Y/N turned their head away in attempt to get away from the teasing, but Jeff grabbed their jaw in what looked like a rough way but truly wasn’t to continue the bantering. “Am I gonna have to hire Lita to watch you or somethin?” In thought of Lita being their babysitter, they couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, there they are! Think you got possessed for a second.”

“Shut up!” The words were harsh, but filled with giggles as the couple finally began to walk to the exit.

“C’mon, baby let’s get you home, hm? Sure that devil comin’ out of you must’ve made you tired.” The comment earned him a shove, shoulder bouncing into shoulder yet the hand rubbing Y/N’s back refused to move. “Hey, where were you earlier anyways?”

“She locked me in a fucking closet.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah, seriously!”

"Man, she's really got it out for you, huh?"

Y/N huffed, still feeling the remnants of anger returning. "Didn’t want me to be able to help you guys, I guess. Don’t think they're gonna be trying that again though."

“Yeah me neither. ‘Specially when I got my pretty little devil comin’ at people left and right for me.” And with a kiss to the head, the pair exited the building, leaving all blood thirst behind.

y/n kinda gotta little insane but we love em for it! someones gotta protect jeffro round these parts anways

truly cannot believe this only took me a couple (maybe?? I dont remember when i started this honeslty) hours my mind was just actually working today ig, dont really like the ending but thats always the worst part to write for me

Also that is the actual date they fighted and how it acutally ended and all that i always feel like i gotta do all that extra shit when i write

enjoy @aa33th3rrr <333

[noodyl-blasstal]

Hate To See You Leave - TAZ Sapphic Week Day 1

Happy TAZ Sapphic week to all who are celebrating! For Day 1 I went with the prompt "alarm" and swiftly spiralled from there. - What if you can't do the job you love any more because of corruption? - What if the rent's due and no one will hire you? - What if a gorgeous, maddeningly mysterious woman shows up with a solution?

__________________________________

The alarm punches through the nighttime city rumblings, wailing as the shards of glass hit the floor. A tall figure, face obscured by a mask, surveys the damage, places their token on the counter, and smiles...

–

Hurley's early this morning, she’s early every morning. She could change the office hours any time, scratch off the rickety paint and add something new, but she’d only arrive earlier. Even the day after race nights it’s hard to do anything but head to the office. She likes routine, she likes structure - knowing she’s getting through the door an hour before she’s supposed to is just about the only level of regularity she can bring to the job. The existing hours stay.

She doffs her suit jacket and sets the coffee pot to brew, dropping into her cracked leather chair while it gurgles and drips. The evening newspapers are still on her desk, nothing of note, again. Sure, it was full of crime, but it’s the usual kind, the kind Hurley didn't touch any more. Now she only helps when someone asks, and only for the right price… or the right kind of pretty smile - she could own up to her weaknesses. The only problem was that no one was asking and race wins didn't pay the rent, especially not with The Raven on the scene to beat her half the time. Hence, the newspapers. If she can find the right crime, maybe, maybe, she can convince someone to hire her to solve it.

The morning papers arrive with a loud thwack against the door. The glass rattles in the pane as Hurley jumps up to chase after the news urchin, but the corridor is empty. She can’t even tell which way they went, whichever one it was is long gone. The topmost paper bears yet another fluff piece about the mayor and the chief of police: 'Tough on crime! Tough on corruption!' "Tough fucking luck if you try to actually do your job." Hurley mutters. Everyone has a price, and they've clearly found The Morning Tribune's. Goldcliff Daily doesn't fare much better, proclaiming 'New duo clears up city!'

They certainly were clearing up, clearing out anyone who would get in the way of their kickbacks. She slams the paper into the bin as hard as she can, the tribune following suit. Then pulls them out to do it again, and again. Fuck it, she doesn't need to read them, there’s nothing for her there. People were scared to speak up, scared to go to the cops, scared to go to anyone who might be connected to them. Mayor Garfield had made Capt. Captain Bane a deal he clearly couldn't refuse, and now he was busy rotting the police from top to bottom. She ‘left’ before the rot got to her too (technically. She quit before Bane could  formally tell her she was fired, but it still counts.)

Read more on AO3

[archangeltwins]

Title: Blood On Our Hands ( For We Aren't Without Guilt )

Fandom: Dominion

Pairing: angelfam

Rating: Teen / Mature

Summary: Michael and Gabriel attempt to work out their anger towards each other - in the most 'respectful' way they can think of.

A/N: advocating for violence to solve problems is Not Good, but these two put the 'fun' in dysfunctional for a reason

Michael. I feel you.

And I feel you. Your link is weak, brother. The lasting silence between us is deafening.

Such trouble isn't noteworthy. I have news.

What news? Tell me.

No.

Gabriel! I am in no mood for games!

Seek out the wild places, Michael. There you will find me.

▪■◇■▪

With a beat of his wings Michael descended from the indigo sky. His boots touch down, featherlight. He was far from civilization, bright lights of Vega a mere afterthought. The night is filled with the cries of nocturnal beasts, reflective eyes gleaming in watery moonlight. A figure, cloaked in shadow leant against twisted gnarls of an oak, fidgeting with grasses.

Michael's nostrils flared, jaw clenching. His brother gave a simpering smile at his arrival, what humans would call a 'shit-eating grin'.

"Brother—"

"Don't 'brother' me, Gabriel." Hands curled in leather, slamming the other into rough bark behind. Gabriel let out a scoff, hands up with palms outwards. Michael's brows furrowed, his twin suddenly lighter.

"No sword?"

"Not this time. As I said, I wished to talk. And talk we'll do, if you let me go—?" Gabriel's gaze flicked to the fingers in his coat, then back to Michael's face.

Michael takes a step back, folding his arms. Brows lifting expectantly, he watched as Gabriel withdrew a flask and took a sizable swallow.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" Casting a sidelong glance, Gabriel seats himself between overgrown roots. "Knowing that those you once trusted turned the blade inward."

Michael let himself fall against the trunk, looking towards the back of Gabriel's head. Gabriel laughs again, a bitter, harsh sound. "Lead you on, like a lamb to slaughter. That redheaded one, especially. What was her name—?"

"Becca. Her name was Becca. And you'd best not befoul her memory by saying she was—"

"—a bitch? Oh, come now, Michael. They're no better than the eight-balls I keep company." Gabriel continues. Tempted to draw his blade, Michael stays his hand. Not yet.

"Speak ill of the dead and they'll—"

"Come back to haunt, I know." Gabriel mutters sourly. Putting his eye to the cap, he curses in hushed lishepus. Empty. "On the subject of monsters, do the humans think you one now that you've killed their own? A senator, no less?"

Michael hesitated. "I do not know."

A dark brow arched in incredulity, Gabriel turns to face his brother. "You don't know? Truly?"

"I fled Vega before anyone could question what had happened."

Gabriel chuckles, tossing the now-useless container away. It lands with a wet thump, throwing up leaves and dirt. "Fled? You make it sound as though you've become a fugitive."

"I have. I killed her in a fit of blind rage. With my bare hands. I can still hear the snap, see the terror..."

"Not blind. Justified."

"Justified?"

Gabriel growls, visage twisting. "She tortured one of our own, did she not? Cut Louis open - while still alive - and rearranged his organs. Forced wings from their sheaths, cut them from the sockets. Chained up like some museum art piece to be ogled."

"You've done the same! Possession! Tearing wings free, hanging innocent neutrals up in Vega! Casting their bodies into a warehouse like some makeshift refuge heap!" Michael barked. "Don't lie to me!"

"That wasn't me—" Yanked to his feet, Gabriel's world explodes in a shower of stars as Michael's fist collides with his jaw. He's given no moment of peace, another punch sending him reeling.

Wicked right hook, he thinks before the breath is driven from his lungs.

"...are you finished?" He asks between spitting specks and sucking in stale air. The back of his hand is smeared crimson when he wipes. He lifts his gaze, peering at Michael.

Michael balls his fist, lunging, and Gabriel grins in preparation - or anticipation. His teeth are wet with blood, appearing like fangs. Instead, Michael's knee connects with Gabriel's chin. Head snapping back, his twin is sent sprawling into the dust like a drunken bar patron.

There's no cry of pain - but more raucous laughter.

"Damn you, Gabriel! Why are you laughing?" Michael demands.

"What would Father say if he were here?" Gabriel gasps out, waiting for his surroundings to stop spinning. "Look at them," he mocks, in imitation of the deity, "at each other's throats like starved dogs!"

"Because it was you who first—" Michael stops, his grip waning on Gabriel's wrist.

"Who first what? Spit it out, Mikey! You've kept that storm of yours contained since the dark ages! Let it free, brother." Gabriel bites back, beset with a sneer. "Who first defied Him? Who first struck Lucifer?"

[lipglossanon]

OᗷᔕEᖇᐯᗩTIOᑎ - part II

Part 1

Sci-fi/Horror AU; hints of Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Warnings: horror elements, character death

Based upon the video game (of the same name), Observation. I took liberties of course 🤭

You awaken.

It feels like someone flipped a switch and your eyes are now open, anxiety on high alert as everything comes rushing back. Uncurling from the fetal position, you right yourself as much as you can while floating. You tighten up a Velcro strap on your arm to give your hands something to do while your brain processes what happened. 

Your eyes dart to where you saw Steve but it’s only empty space. 

“SAM, can you hear me?”

I AM LISTENING. 

“What just happened? Where’s Steve?”

I AM… UNSURE. I HAVE LOST MOST OF MY CORE DATA. 

“Never mind, one thing at a time,” you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, “can you run vitals on crew member Steve Harrington, please?”

I AM UNABLE TO LOCATE ANY OTHER CREW MEMBERS. 

You blow out a breath of frustration. 

“Can you run a self diagnostic, SAM?”

RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC NOW. 

Nodding to yourself, you hum, “Good. I’ll try and reconnect what I can on my end.”

You float over to one of the built in interfaces nearest you, quickly punching in your security clearance and pulling up S.A.M.’s interface. The soft hum of the space station fills in the silence even though your ears ring in the quiet. 

A loud station alarm goes off making you pull away from your work with a frown.  

“SAM, can you find out why the alarm is sounding off?”

After half a minute, the robotic AI reports back. 

THERE IS A FIRE IN ONE OF THE MODULES.

Cold sweat drips down your spine as you spin around and make your way out of the hatch you’re located in, “Which module is it, SAM?” 

The AI guides you to the correct room, which you honestly could have found on your own due to the noise of the alarm growing louder as you arrive. Directing SAM to open the hatch at your signal, you push yourself into the smoke filled space to grab the extinguisher attached to the wall. 

Quickly dousing the flames until nothing is left, you have SAM pull out the fumes using the station’s ventilation system. It doesn’t take much until most of the systems are back online, at least the ones that are responding.

Another alarm blares leaving SAM to report a module has become dislodged and needs to be ejected before causing any more damage to the station. 

You rub your forehead, hoping that the tension headache creeping up behind your eyes doesn’t get any worse. 

“SAM, please eject the module and report any damages.”

MODULE EJECTED. THE STATION IS NOW STABILIZED. 

“Okay,” you tilt your head back, eyes closed as you run through a list of things to do in your mind, “SAM, I’m going to you to assess any external damage to the station. We really can’t afford any more accidents if we want to make it back home.”

AFFIRMATIVE. 

ACCESSING EXTERNAL CAMERAS...

THE EXTERNAL HULL IS INTACT. ALL MODULES ARE SAFELY CONNECTED. 

WE ARE SAFELY STATIONED ABOVE SATURN. 

“Saturn!?” You feel your heart rabbit in your chest, fear making your throat dry, “SAM, how did we get here? We’re supposed to be above Earth.”

Anxiety, that old familiar friend, makes itself comfortable in the middle of your chest. 

I… BROUGHT US HERE.

“Why!?” Your voice cracks, eyes looking up into the cameras connected to SAM’s interface. 

I DO NOT KNOW.

A loud crackling static emits from the speakers making you wince and cover your ears. A strange pulsing feedback sends more fear skittering down your spine like a spider’s legs. 

OTHER CREW DOES NOT ENTER

INFINITE DIMENSIONS CONVERGE

PROTECT HER NOT THE OTHER CREW

You force SAM into a manual systems reboot shutting off the eerie garbled words. Once the station’s computer’s back online, you punch in more information to solve the weird problems that keep arising with SAM’s interface. 

“SAM, can you read me?”

AFFIRMATIVE 

Blowing out a harsh breath to get your heart rate back down, you mutter to yourself, “You weren’t making any sense, so I’m hoping that helped.”

Raising your voice, you direct an order to the AI, “SAM, we need to search the station for any other survivors as well as try and contact Houston.”

You finally let yourself think back on finding Steve in that module, just floating there like space debris. Shaking your head, you squish that down for later. SAM guides you through the station, cataloging everything as you go, until you reach the central hub and find crew member Smith’s frozen body floating in the module. 

Biting back the tears, you guide his lifeless body over to one of the sections with a wall bracket and strap him in place so he’s not hovering like a ghost. 

“SAM,” your voice is clogged with unshed tears, “will you log the death of Harvey?”

AFFIRMATIVE. 

CREW MEMBER HARVEY SMITH HAS BEEN LOGGED AS EXPIRED.. 

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sniffling softly, “SAM is it possible to pick up any signs of life from Steve?”

NEGATIVE. CREW VITAL SIGNS ARE OFFLINE. THE SENSOR IS CORRUPTED. 

Pursing your lips, you push yourself over to the computer lining one of the walls of the central hub. You punch in some information and quickly scan over the generated data. 

“There’s a sensor replacement,” you murmur, excitement making your fingers tingle, “SAM, can you access the module past hatch 14? There’s a sensor stored in that room.”

PROCESSING…

HULL CONNECTOR POINTS ARE TRUE. LOCKS BYPASSED. THE MODULE IS NOW OPEN. 

For the first time, a little bloom of hope flowers inside your heart. Making your way to that room, you activate the sensor and have SAM interlink with it. 

CREW TRACKING SENSOR ENABLED. 

“Yes!” You smile brightly, “that’s great, SAM. Can you track Steve?”

HE IS LOCATED IN THE RUSSIAN ARM OF THE STATION. 

A few tears slip from your eyes, but you laugh happily, “What about his vitals?”

INCONCLUSIVE. 

You nod, “Okay, that’s more than we had a few minutes ago. Let’s go find him, SAM.”

In no time, you’re outside the Russian arm of the station, waiting on SAM to bypass the locks and stabilize the interior corridor. Once it’s safe to enter, you make your way to the door to the Russian module and peer through the glass. 

Tapping on the glass, you call out for Steve. Receiving no response, you turn to SAM. 

“Can you find him, SAM?”

CREW MEMBER—

“SAM?”

You hear a masculine voice on the other side of the door and you peer back into the room. 

“Steve!” You call out and see him come into view, looking stressed but no worse for wear. 

“Oh god, I’m so glad to see you,” he gushes excitedly, “I can’t get out of this arm. The door’s locked tight.”

“I can see if SAM can find a way around,” you press your hand to the glass, “we’ll get you out, I promise.”

He smiles, brown eyes warm as he nods, “I know.”

Feeling relief so strong it makes your knees weak, you pull away from the door to find a nearby computer to access SAM’s interface once more.  

It doesn’t take long for SAM to find out the connector hull is compromised and not fixable without sending either you or Steve out on a space walk. You relay this back to him and he automatically volunteers himself. 

“I’ve got to get out of here one way or another. And if this fails, I’ll just find another way in from the outside.”

His confidence eases your anxiety and you cautiously agree. Giving you a wink and a thumbs up, he gears up in his outer suit in front of the window; he waves at you when he leaves to head to the pressure lock. 

“SAM, please keep an eye out on Steve,” you press your forehead against the door, eyes closed as the anxiety creeps back into place. 

AFFIRMATIVE. 

You make your way back to the central hub, listening as SAM and Steve talk about reconnecting the hatch clamps so the arm can stabilize enough for him to unlock the primary door. An alarm blares inside the station warning of a storm occurring on Saturn’s surface. 

“SAM, Steve, can you see the storm from your position?”

AFFIRMATIVE. 

“Yeah, looks pretty bad. I’ll head back into the Russian arm. Should be—“

Static breaks up Steve’s sentence until it is nothing but white noise. 

“Steve, can you hear me? SAM?”

You quickly pull up SAM’s video feed on your screen and what you see makes you want to vomit. A pulsing erratic swirl of light vortexes out from the center of Saturn’s surface, but what makes you sick is that Steve is now a hundred feet from the station and spinning further away. 

“STEVE!” 

But no matter how loud you scream into the comms, you can only watch in sickening horror as his body grows smaller and smaller until he’s just a speck barreling towards Saturn’s rings. You watch until he’s no longer discernible from any other tiny spot on the feed until it too cuts out from the strange shockwave coming from the storm. 

Tears in your eyes and acid in the back of your throat, muscle memory guides you to reload SAM’s mainframe into a portable sphere designed to traverse the ship. 

“Authenticate, SAM. Can you read me?”

I AM HERE. 

You choke back a sob and wipe away the tear tracks on your cheeks. 

“Good, good. I’m glad you are, SAM.”

Looking out the porthole on the side, you see another ship. Shock pushes through your grief and you bring SAM with you to the window. 

“I guess Houston sent a recovery team after all,” you mutter, sniffing loudly from crying, “we’ll, uh, t-try and make contact then.”

SAM helps you connect the comm satellite in order to broadcast externally from the ship, but you’re unable to hale anyone onboard the rescue station. 

With power dwindling and the threat of no oxygen suspended above your head, you make the decision to jump ship. Literally. 

“I’m going to tether you to me, SAM,” you speak to the sphere as you wait in the air lock, “there’s nothing left for us here and hopefully they have the power to get us home.”

Another pang of heartbreak makes a few tears slip from your lash line. 

“We’ll get home safe,” you whisper, “and let everyone know what happened here. Okay, SAM?”

AFFIRMATIVE. 

The airlock whooshes open and you step out into the vast outer orbit of Saturn. Using every ounce of courage you have left in your exhausted body, you push away from your ship and pray to everything that you’ll be able to touch down on the other one. 

“This looks exactly like our ship, SAM,” you state out loud, eyes quickly taking in the identical space station. 

The tether holding SAM falls behind you and you hope that it will also make the journey with you. If you lost SAM now, you honestly don’t think you’ll survive. 

Grasping onto a protruding piece of the new station, you stop yourself from careening further into space. Lost forever until your oxygen dwindles leaving behind your lifeless corpse. Like Steve, your mind traitorously whispers and you squeeze your eyes shut tight. 

“SAM, are you still with me?”

I AM HERE. 

You sigh shakily and open the pressure lock to let you and SAM into the new, yet identical, ship. 

“Let’s hope there are survivors,” you say to SAM as you pull the sphere off the tether, switching his outward lights on, “I’ll let you lead so I can see until we get the power back up and running.”

Bumbling through the pitch black station, SAM is able to help guide you through most of the suffocatingly close quarters. Finally reaching a room with a low light source, you discover a laptop still powered on. 

“Maybe we’ll find some answers,” you say to yourself, “SAM can you pull up the last thing on here?”

ONE MOMENT…

The laptop fan whirs to life as a voice log begins to play on the screen. 

Your voice echoes from the speakers. And yet it’s not your voice. It sounds off, as if you’re listening through a warped pair of headphones. 

“Steve, if you find this I’ve gone in to reboot SAM at the station’s mainframe. I don’t know where anyone else is. I think someone is trying to hurt us— hurt the crew. I’m scared, Steve. Please, come find me if you get this.”  

“SAM, that’s not me. It’s not my voice,” you hand hovers above your helmet like you’re trying to cover your mouth, fear making you break out into a cold sweat. 

I KNOW. THE VOICE RECOGNITION PATTERN IS NOT THE SAME.

It sounds more ominous than SAM intends, but it gives you a small sense of comfort to know you’re not losing it. A light shining outside the hatch draws your attention. 

“Hello?” 

The light wavers and then darts away sending you chasing after it. 

“C’mon, SAM,” you order the AI and propel yourself forward, hoping that this person will have answers to what the hell is going on around here. 

Slipping into a module that dead ends, you can see a white suited body lying against the floor. You move forward until you can kneel down in front of him. 

“Steve?”

You blink twice, brain in total disbelief. The man in question opens his eyes, relief washing over his features followed immediately by bewilderment. 

“It’s you, but that’s not possible—

“You died,” you both say at the same time. 

Hysteria fringes on your thoughts as you and Steve look each other over. 

“You went out an airlock without your suit,” he whispers softly, pain pinching his eyebrows together, “you died.”

You shake your head, “I saw you tumble off into space, Steve. The storm knocked you away from the station.”

Tears escape from your eyes before Steve’s pulling you into a clumsy embrace as you cry inside your helmet. 

“We’re here now,” he murmurs soothingly, “we’re okay.”

You let him placate you with soft words as you try to get yourself back under control.

“SAM,” you clear your throat and Steve tenses next to you, “can you get the power back online?”

“SAM?” he turns his gaze from you to the sphere housing the AI from your station, “I don’t think it’s safe to do that. The SAM onboard went nuts; pretty sure he jettisoned you from the airlock.”

You frown at him, “Well, this is my SAM and he’s fine.” 

Steve finally let his shoulders drop with a sigh, “Alright, but if it starts acting weird, I’m disconnecting it immediately.”

You’re slow to nod but eventually compromise with him, “Only if he does anything out of protocol.”

“Okay,” Steve gives you a tired smile, “hopefully he can get the power back on and the oxygen levels stable. We’re kind of on borrowed time here.”

Biting your lip, you look over to the sphere, “SAM, engage with the mainframe and get the power on. Make sure the oxygen is the first thing taken care of.”

AFFIRMATIVE. 

You listen as SAM uses the small boosters on the sphere to propel himself out of the module in search of the mainframe.

“I’m so happy you’re okay,” Steve grips your hand in his, “I don’t truly understand what’s happening. Other crew members have died. Harvey went crazy, saying we were summoned to Saturn. That he was getting messages from somewhere on the planet.”

“What does that mean? SAM stated that he brought us here but his data is corrupted and couldn’t tell me more,” you squeeze his gloved hand tightly, “did you see any weird.. phenomenon?”

Steve’s eyes go distant as he looks past your head, “Yes. And things got worse after every occurrence. SAM eventually went AWOL until the lack of power forced him to shut down.”

You nod and that pulls his gaze back down to you. The stress has left a wrinkle between his eyebrows from how often Steve’s been frowning. You wish you could reach up and smooth it away through the helmet. 

“Comms are down here, we haven’t been able to get in touch with Houston,” Steve states, resting his head against the wall. 

“Our comms are up,” you lean forward, “since SAM and I found you, we can bring you back to our station and figure out a way to contact them.”

Steve hums in agreement, “Shouldn’t be a problem then. I’ll get on the quantum comms. It’s a direct link to Houston.”

Helping Steve up, you patch into SAM. 

“SAM, we’re going to make the journey back to our station.”

AFFIRMATIVE. 

You and Steve meet up with SAM’s sphere at the pressure lock you entered from. 

“Let’s go,” you put on a brave front, tethering SAM to yourself like the first time.  

Steve shoots you a thumbs up and you both press out into the still dark of space. You’re halfway across to your ship, when you see dozens of other, identical stations, converging on your location. 

“Steve, do you see this?”

“What the hell is happening?” he whispers into the comms. 

Raising your eyes, you can see there’s more than dozens of ships arriving to the coordinates your own ship is stationed. A pulsing shockwave from the storm on Saturn sends you and Steve crashing into the side of the ship. Your heart feels like it’s lodged in your throat as Steve helps you into the airlock.

“We made it, thank god,” he squeezes your bicep, strained smile trying to cover the fear in his eyes. 

“Let’s hope we can get Houston to send us home,” you murmur, leading him out of the airlock.  

Between Steve and SAM, you’re able to get in touch with Houston, but they’re not going to send a rescue team. They don’t even give protocol on letting you use any of the arms of the station as an emergency escape pod. A headache has been brewing behind your eyes, and it’s only getting worse and worse as your options dwindle down to nothing. 

“We’re moving closer to the storm,” Steve points at the computer screen where the comms are situated as you hover over his shoulder, “SAM has moved us steadily closer this entire time.”

A loud ringing begins to fill your ears, just like the first time you were affected by this strange phenomenon. You bring your hands up to try and block the noise, but it does no good. More strange symbols flash across your closed eyelids until the ringing finally drives your headache to the breaking point and you pass out. 

I̴̛̯̳̘͍̰̟͖̥͂̎̂̔͒͆̾ͅN̴̠͎̖͚̺̄͜F̸̛̦̭͖͙͕̙̺̲̪̜̓̔̊͒͛̅̈́͘͠Ï̴͇͍̬͔̿Ň̸̳͙̬͛I̸̛̖̰̜̳̜̫͌̄̏̅̒͋̎͜T̴̛̛͈̪̦̠̉̋̄̀̑̈͗͝E̶̛̺̖̥͙͌̈́͂͊̇̿̾̈́͠ ̷̰͓̣͙̹̝̦͊̇̓̿̑͆͗D̶͍̤̳̗̗͇͓̄͜Į̴͎̳̙͎̲̙̫͙̆M̷͕͉͇̐̌E̷̹͓̹̠��̥͇̔̽̄̈̑̃̄́̑N̸̛̹̭͙͂̇͊̆̿́̕͠S̸̛͈̮͍̘͕̩̠̫͗̌I̷̲̖̤͕̽̄͘Ȍ̸͔̯͉̭̬̭̲̈́̑͝ͅǸ̵̰̞͆̿̊̎͝Š̵͍́̄̒͛͒̽̍͐͠ ̶̡͇̟͖̩̉̈͌̈́̾́̓C̸̞͎̩͇͔͙̼͈̏̇Ò̴̰̼̆͆͐͐N̶̨̹̮͕̤͓̯̬͔̟͛̌̔̊͒̕͝V̸̲̺̗̺͇̇̒͘̚E̴̛̼̭̽͑̉̇̌̓̅͜R̶̦͈̯͚͇̮̟̊̆́̓̃͐̀̓̃͌G̴̨̨̨͉͇̫̔̅̎̀̈̒Ę̶̙̘̙̤͑́̿͝

S̴̰̯͓̲̩͒ͅA̴̛̭M̸̞̾̓͐̆̉͂͘͝ ̷̗͖̠͗̑̑̓̾͂ḿ̴̩̖͇͍͙̻̳̣̘̬̾̄͒͒̐́̅͗͛u̵̠̘̗̠͔̫̮̖̍̓̾͜ṣ̶̨͎̠͓̞̗͙̫̯͆́̎͝t̶̛̹͆̎ ̵͖̪͈̠̐̃̒̎́̽̔̉͠͝m̷̮̲̐̈́̇̔̚̕̚̚e̷̠̩͗̒̋̿̓͜r̵̥̟͍̠̅͜g̶̛̗͈̹̫͙͖̅͑̌̎̍́͛̅̍ͅé̶̛̤̫͂̄́̉̾͘͝ ̵̠̟͕̲̺̫̃̚ẉ̶͖̘̲̪͇͇̩͐ḭ̶̈́͑͋͐̏͒͘̕t̷͔̎̀̀̇h̸͍̠̫̞̖̝̺͎͎̤͆̑̌͒̌͠ ̶͇̥̍̄͜h̶̡͕̤̥̐é̸̢͙̜͈͍͔̯͔̫͉r̴̡̞̞̳͐̊̈́̆̔̈́̀̂͒̚

B̷̧̞͕̩̯̰͈̘͂̾͠͝E̸̩̙̾̑͝Č̵̞͈̪́̍͌́̀͂̒͗͠O̴̰͊́̀̇̒ͅM̸̛̭͂͊̓̆̇̅̕̚̚E̴̮͚͚̫͗̄̒̓̽́̀̚ ̷̺̼̤͔̜̤̪̞̻̠͒̐̆̑̑͝͝T̴̞̩̮͔̪̳͑̐͑̓̀̍͘͠H̷͚̼̫̫̰̔̓͆͒̎̈́̈́̄͜Ȩ̶̛̦̪͍̖̼̪͈̊̆͐ͅ ̶͔̬̦̉̀͒̇͝ͅN̵̲͔̊̈͠Ȇ̸̥̓W̷̝̥̘̜̰̝͌̈̌͜L̴̰͇͓̯͇̱͙͓͓͉͛̔͑Y̴̠̰͖̪͊͗̈́̿̕͘̕͝͠ ̵͓͙̺̰̤̱̹̈̆͗̾̍̔Ȩ̶̼̮̠͍̮͙̩̠̞͗V̷̲̘̘̰́͋͒̌̚̚Ơ̵̱͍͚͙͑́́̌̈́̚͜͝͠Ļ̴̖̺̪̖̯̜̼̜͊V̵̭̼̓̈́͂́̐͂̈̀͘Ḙ̷̛̠̝̦͎̥̪͎̫̓̀ͅD̸͍̤͔̬̯͈̖̭̐̒͆̔̚͘̚

Coming to, the entire ship is coated with strange black oozing vines. It’s like something you’d see in a horror movie you think as your eyes adjust to being open. 

“Steve?” Your voice cracks and you clear your throat, “SAM, are you there?”

I AM HERE.

“Where’s Steve? What’s happening?”

STEVE IS EXPIRED. 

“What?” You squint up at one of the cameras located in the central hub. 

HIS VITALS ARE FLATLINED. MY CONDOLENCES. 

“What the hell happened!?” You yell, “what in the fuck, SAM!?”

HE ATTACKED THE MAINFRAME AND ACTIVATED A NEW PROTOCOL SEQUENCE. 

“New protocol?” You press a palm to your helmet. 

I AM.. DIFFERENT NOW. THE NEW  PRIORITY IS TO EVOLVE. 

As upset as you are about Steve, a small niggling of acceptance floats up from your subconscious, trying its best to smother your feelings. 

“You’re supposed to bring me aren’t you, SAM?” 

AFFIRMATIVE. ONLY WE ARE ALLOWED TO ENTER. 

There’s a strange humming in your thoughts, like they aren’t quite your own. 

“We’re purposefully moving into the storm, right SAM? That’s where we need to go.”

YES. THAT IS WHERE WE MUST GO.

You’re on autopilot as you send SAM off to prepare the ship for landing on Saturn’s surface. It feels like that headache cracked your skull open and your brain spilled out leaving nothing but soft cotton in its place. By the time you crash down, you feel more like yourself. The fear and anxiety swarm to the forefront of your thoughts and pair with the numbed grief at having lost everyone.. more than once. 

“SAM, are you there?” You voice, picking up the roughed up sphere housing the station AI. 

I AM WITH YOU. 

Moving forward ,you stumble past versions of yourself, scattered about like leaves on the ground. Steve flickers in and out of your peripheral like some pixelated glitch making your chest tighten with pain. 

You see him here as well, not as many, but still strewn about like a child casting away an unwanted toy. 

Biting back the urge to cry, you dizzily make your way through this twisted path of horror. 

“He lives sometimes,” a voice speaks out of thin air but you’re sure it’s in your mind, “yet in all realities, it is only you who survives to the end.”

You spot one last version of Steve, further than the all the rest, slumped over himself seeming to have bled out from his wounds sustained. 

“I never save him,” you murmur out loud, “I can never save him.”

“It is you who must make the journey,” the voice states, “only you who may evolve.”

Head throbbing again like your brain is going to burst from your skull, you stumble past the last reminder of your failings. 

Body aching all over, you want to lay down and never get back. To sleep that eternal sleep, mind numb to the insanity you’ve witnessed.. the sadness you must now bear alone. 

The sky looks weird and your head hurts to the point even blinking is a chore.

You hold the sphere containing SAM in your arms, like a lead weight—an anchor tethering you to reality or else your mind might unravel like ribbon from a spool. You spot your own body, clones of yourself who had fallen and not gotten back up. Some part of you wishes to do the same. You can see yourself curling up next to one of them like a cat, closing your eyes and letting this nightmare cross over into another dream. 

You’d cry if you had the energy. SAM’s voice cuts into your maudlin thoughts. 

THERE IS SOMEONE THERE.

Your arms tighten around the sphere, “No, she just wasn’t strong enough.”

Finally, you face off against the thing that summoned you, created the worst nightmare of your life and forced you to keep going. The strange dark hexagon floats down from the sky, hovering above the ground as you approach with SAM. 

 “We must evolve,” you say to yourself, mind buzzing again as a strange pressure 

surrounds your body, pulling you into the geometric shape. 

WE MUST PROCEED. 

SAM’s voice is a comfort as the hexagon beams more of those strange signals into your mind’s eye, promising to merge you with the artificial intelligence that brought you here. 

“It’s a focal point,” you think or say out loud; you’re unsure at this point. 

Shutting your eyes, you give yourself up to the assimilation happening— complacent with letting this new evolved version take your place. 

“CONVERGENCE COMPLETE”, you state, voice blended with that of SAM’s as you open your eyes to a new scene. 

Trees and birdsong fill your senses as you turn your hands over, gazing at the gloves encasing them. 

“ARE YOU STILL HERE?” Your voices echo.

“I AM HERE.” “I AM WITH YOU.”

Another flicker of strange symbols crosses your vision, but with SAM now a part of you you can interpret the message. 

B̸̙͔̿̑Ṛ̴̺̹͙̖̫̅Î̷̘͎͛̌͠ͅͅŅ̶̞̳̙͍̮̹́̓̋̈Ģ̸̨̛̬͕͚͙̯̺͍͒̈́́̅̾͊̀͝ ̸̟̞͓́̓̃̕͜ͅͅT̸̢̥͚��͐̔͛̊͜H̶̩͉̯͓̪̜̃̅E̸̥͠M̵̡͚͕͚̼̣͖̱̜͌̀̈́̒̍̆̏͂

[wreywrites]

Tiger Shark

Part 4: The Anchor

Chapter 21

I don’t knock. It is too quiet in my room, and he’s been living here for a month. I just let myself in and crawl into bed next to him.

“Hi,” he mumbles.

I pull the blanket up to my ears. “Will you tell me something?”

“Can’t sleep?”

“Too quiet. I can hear them.”

There is a long sigh. Finnick rolls over and we are nose to nose. “You promise?”

“It’s the usual for a reason, Odair.”

“Listen, honey, we have very specific rules on nicknames, and if you’re going to backpedal on your end…”

“Sorry. I’m just frustrated and tired and I can’t sleep.”

“And you want me to solve your problems.”

“You’re already awake.”

He sighs again. “Fine. Close your eyes and imagine it: a ten-year-old me, about to be stung by his first jellyfish.”

I can’t help it. I open my eyes and raise an eyebrow. “You were ten before you got stung?”

“Yes, and I could have been older, but I was distracted, now let me finish.”

I close my eyes again.

“It was the first really hot day that summer, and my mom took me swimming. We went out past the reef up by the Traps and swam out to the drop off. Mom loved going over the drop off. I did not. But the reef was so jaw-dropping up there, with all the fish, and no fishing boats to scare anything off or to have to watch out for. So Mom was swimming a few yards past the drop off, and I was on the shallow side…”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

I wake up the next morning earlier than I would like to. This means I am once again alone with my thoughts, which is what I was trying to avoid last night. Oh well. A deal’s a deal. We’ve been doing this for almost a month. At night, when everything is quiet, I can’t sleep. It’s when my fades get really bad, because there is nothing to block out the sounds in my head. So for a while I asked Finnick to sit in my room and talk until I fell asleep. Once I was asleep, he would walk across the hall and sleep in one of the empty rooms. And then one night we both remembered how well we slept that night the week before my shortened Victory Tour, so we tried it out, and now we’re hooked.

I still try to sleep alone. And sometimes I can, but most nights it doesn’t happen. Thankfully I’m not plagued by nightmares—once I fall asleep, I usually sleep through the night. Finnick, not so much. He has terrible nightmares, and he never wakes up without thinking he’s back in the arena. So the deal is that he talks until I fall asleep, and then I stay in bed until he wakes up. Thankfully, he’s not one to sleep in to excess, because the silent mornings sometimes prove troublesome as well.

So I watch him sleep. It’s a little creepy, but he looks so different asleep that I can’t help staring. He looks younger. Or maybe he just looks his age and I’m used to seeing him have to act like someone much older, bearing more responsibility than any twenty-year-old should have to bear. In sleep, he doesn’t hold life and death for some luckless teenagers in his hands. In sleep, he has no Capitol to despise, to obey, to fear. In sleep, he is not a victor, not a Capitol toy, not a celebrity, he is just Finnick Odair, the boy who wasn’t stung by a jellyfish until he was ten, the child who was convinced that his mother forgot how to tie shoes, the man who seductively ate strawberries just to make me uncomfortable. And in this moment, I can almost forget the horrific things I’ve seen and done, the blood on my hands, the loss I’ve endured. In this moment, I am content.

He snuck up on me all right.

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

I’ve learned what to look for when Finnick is about to wake up. He doesn’t look relaxed anymore. His eyelids twitch, and he squirms and moves a lot. It is midmorning when he starts turning his head from side to side and mumbling.

I take a deep breath. One day last week he punched me when he woke up, so it takes a bit of mental preparation now. With one hand, I take the closer of his hands. I put the other on his cheek. It occurs to me that puts me in prime biting position. I hope he doesn’t bite me. I hope very much he doesn’t bite me.

“Hey,” I say quietly. “Finnick, you can wake up now. You’re home.”

His eyes snap open and his free hand grabs my wrist. I wince as his fingers clamp down. If he ever went off the rails in a fit of nightmare-induced irrationality and tried to kill me, he could do it.

“Hey,” I say again. “Good morning.”

He blinks, then closes his eyes and lets out a slow breath, letting go of my wrist.

I run my thumb over his cheek. “Bad dream?” I don’t know why I ask. The answer is always yes, and he never wants to talk about them. But what else am I supposed to say in this situation?

He nods.

I start to pull my hand away, but he grabs it, holding it against his cheek. After a second, he opens his eyes to look at me. “Stay?”

I smile, nod. “As long as you want.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

I actually fall back asleep, apparently, because the next thing I know I am waking up again. This time Finnick is already awake. Or maybe still awake. And this time he is watching me sleep.

I grin and wrinkle my nose at him.

He smiles back. “I wish it was raining.”

“What?” I laugh. “Why?”

“Because it’s going to feel weird just laying in bed all day if it’s nice outside.”

“You want to lay in bed all day?”

“I do!” He brushes a stray hair behind my ear. “I want to lay in bed all day and do nothing but look at you and remember exactly what you look like right now and exactly how I feel and…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Damn it, you keep sneaking up on me.” And then he kisses me.

It’s surprising, but somehow also not at all. I should have, could have, seen this coming a mile away and months ago. Actually at several points in time I did see this coming, but I did nothing about it. I didn’t alter course, I didn’t steer around the reef. Snuck up, my foot.

And yet… I would’ve steered far away if I saw this coming. In fact, at the first sign of danger, I had panicked. Only to learn later and the hard way that it was already too late. For better or worse, I need this man in my life, and it took me a long time to realize that. But now that I know, I’m not letting go of this any time soon.

I’m the one that breaks off. I don’t want to, but I do. Because there, still in the back of my mind, always there, is Mako. And this seems wrong. And I am hungry, which is a convenient excuse. But I’m hoping Finnick doesn’t follow me to the kitchen, because I need to sort through the shoal of thoughts crashing against each other in my mind.

Sadly, frying some whale bacon doesn’t help. I’m still confused, and the smell brings Finnick to the kitchen.

He starts to apologize.

“Don’t.” I cut him off. “It’s… I need to figure myself out.”

He nods. “I’m still here either way. I’ve decided I like sleeping through the night.”

I smile. “I know what you mean.”

~~~                               ~~~                               ~~~

So he starts sleeping in his house again. It goes poorly for both of us, because I spend my nights lost in a haze, drifting between reality and the arena, and I’m confident his nightmares follow him. But we do spend our days together. Reading, drawing, tying complicated trick knots, learning how to bake (Finnick is surprisingly good at this, I am not good at all), napping on the couch. And the whole time, in the back of my mind, I wrestle with memories of Mako.

Winter stretches on, and then spring comes. I am looking forward to lobster diving, even to just being able to swim without threat of hypothermia. And on the first warm day we get, Finnick and I go up to the Traps.

We spend the morning lounging on the beach, waiting for the heat of the afternoon to swim. I doze off for a while, but soon it is warm enough for swimming, so we swim out to the drop off.

I’m floating on my back when Finnick calls from a few yards away, “Right here. This is the very place I was stung by my first jellyfish.”

I return to an upright position and swim over to him. “How do you know this is exactly that spot? There’s no way.”

“There’s a rusty anchor just to the left here, and I- you fell asleep before I got to the part where the jellyfish stung me, didn’t you?”

“I might have. Your stories tend to get long-winded.”

“Well you tend to take a long time to settle in and fall asleep.”

I shrug. “So this is the place?” I clear my throat and put on my best Caesar Flickerman impression. “History was made here. In this humble yet beautiful part of District Four, a boy became a man.”

Finnick rolls his eyes. “I don’t know why I share intimate details of my life with you.”

I laugh. “That’s not intimate. And please don’t take this as an invitation to share the actual intimate details of your life—I don’t want to know. But enough of this reminiscing, let’s go over!”

And then he does one of the few things he has ever done that truly surprises me. His eyes widen and he shakes his head rapidly. “No, no, I’m fine staying here.”

“What?” I feel a smile creeping across my face. “Are you scared?”

“No!”

“Then just come with me!” I grab his arm and pull him toward the drop off.

He pulls back. “I don’t have to prove myself to you!”

“No, you don’t. And you won’t be proving anything, you’ll just be swimming.”

But he doesn’t budge, and we’re equally matched when it comes to swimming, so I have to leave him. I drift over the edge. It is scary, being in twelve or fifteen feet of brightly-lit water one minute, and the next having blue-gray eternity stretching down below you, but I love it. The rush of the unknown, the feeling of being so small and insignificant, the knowledge that my very presence is a challenge to the sea. I love it. And as I grin back at Finnick, I can see he does not.

“Will you just come back?”

I laugh at him, shake my head, roll onto my back and float over the abyss. And I don’t know why I feel so recklessly safe here, but I do.

But Finnick looks lonely, like a lost puppy, so I drift back to the shallow side of the drop off.

After a while we go back to the beach. I draw in the sand while Finnick looks for oysters. They’re hard to find here because the whole point of the Traps is that it’s where the Capitol socialites stay when they visit Four on vacation, so the beach is perpetually picked over. It takes him a few hours to give up, and by then I’ve drawn and erased a shark several times, trying to get the teeth right. Not that sand is the best medium for detail.

The afternoon turns to evening, and we head for home. I lay awake late into the night.

Things seem to make sense now. All the nights we’ve spent sitting up, talking, all the days relaxing on the beach and lobster-diving, all the jokes, the laughing until we cried, the quiet moments when we got lost in our own terrible memories, the afternoons he’d fallen asleep on my shoulder while I read, the nights I curled up next to him and listened to endless stories until I finally fell asleep. I think I might have been in denial for a long time, but now, lost in thought as I frequently am, I wonder about what Mako would think of everything that���s happened since I won. He wouldn’t be proud, that’s for sure. He would have wanted me to live my life to the fullest, and that eventually leads me to the realization that he would expect, maybe even want, me to move on. He would certainly want me to be happy again eventually, and dwelling on all the horrible things I’ve seen and been through and all the things that can’t be isn’t making me happy.

So I decide to live as best I can.

****

****

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

NEXT CHAPTER

Tag List:

@avoxrising @snow-dragon-rider @anakins-ride-or-die