#they are from the past. I have changed and bettered myself and they have not. I no longer relate to them

[reidmotif]

I’ve Got My Eye On You

Summary: Reader is a Special Surveillance agent assigned to spy on Spencer. He manages to see through her cover, and thoroughly enjoys the confrontation that follows.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, oral (f!receiving), unprotected penetrative sex, f!masturbation, slight dubcon regarding recorded sex, heavily based on that one scene in scandal, iykyk.

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

I’d always been good at watching people. 

My life had been spent mostly to myself, divulging the information people offered without even realizing. When you talk less, you learn that body language, passing remarks, or even the quirk of an eyebrow gives away more than anyone ever realized– maybe more than an actual conversation at times. 

And I took it all in stride, not a single detail left unanalyzed. People were always surprised when I’d mention my observations, finding a way to explain a seemingly unexplainable situation, those around me wondering how on Earth I could’ve been privy to that. I’d always shrug at their queries. 

Pay more attention, I guess. 

It wasn’t a surprise that I’d ended up here, I suppose, in the end, as an Investigative Specialist for the FBI. I doubt that my listening skills were exactly what landed me the job, but I’d like to believe they contributed more than they actually did. Regardless, I’d never expected the result of the decisions I’d made over the years to lead to this– involved in spying on an agent of our own. 

The infamous "Dr Reid".

His specific circumstances had been shrouded in secrecy and mystery, apparently having just been let out of prison. (Prison? How’s he an agent then? Anyway, not my problem).

 The Bureau had been curious about erratic behavior on his part, and the string of discrepancies involving the unit he was involved in. Apparently, there had been multiple unforeseen and unprecedented events all occurring under the same team in a relatively small time-frame, and despite smaller investigations, nothing came out of them to warrant any real disciplinary action.  Probably why they brought me in, in the hopes of changing that. 

I’d been assigned to put up small, virtually undetectable cameras and listening devices within his apartment. 24/7 home surveillance, no exceptions. I couldn’t help but think that the guy really should invest in better apartment security, despite how easy his naivete made my job. His lack of caution surprised me, given the details I’d been given. For a guy who had a penchant for being framed by the ghosts of his past, he sure didn’t live like it.  Even as an FBI agent, he essentially had no technology to counter my own, and the height of his protection was a standard deadbolt. Was he insane? Unaware, somehow? Only time would tell, I suppose. And I had plenty of that, to watch and deduce the nature of his mind on my own terms. 

My time spent with Spencer resulted in one, overwhelming conclusion. Spencer Reid lived a relatively quiet life. His apartment was barely used, honestly, given the sporadic nature of his job. (Which was a shame, in my opinion, because it’s a nice apartment).  When he was at home, he seemed to remain quite unassuming. The positions I’d see him assume often were that of being hunched over on an aging leather sofa, pouring himself into grading papers, or creating lesson plans for his students. Oh, right. Did I mention he was also a professor? He is. I’d assume he likes the job, given how much of himself he gives into it, or maybe that was just who he was as a person. I wasn’t sure yet. 

I monitored his life outside of the apartment occasionally as well, just to see what intel I could gather with further investigation. There wasn’t much. Coffee shops. Book shops. Coffee. Books. Coffee- God, does the guy do anything else with his life? 

Most days, though, I’d liken him to butter spread too thinly over toast. Sleepless from nightmares that would have him walking around his apartment until daylight broke through the window panes. I felt exhausted just watching the guy, and it seemed insane that he could continue to live on when he left that apartment at the break of dawn. It didn’t seem like he had anyone to talk to, honestly. From what I was seeing, he wasn’t a threat to the Bureau, just a sad, middle-aged man who’d been dealt the most unfair of hands in life. 

I’m sure there’s a moral somewhere in all that. To waste your potential on something that gives so little back. Oh, well. My report was nearly finished at this point, and the most I could recommend the higher-ups was to get Spencer a better therapist, maybe. This one wasn’t really helping, it seemed. Besides that, his personal behavior wasn’t indicative of anything worrying to the interests of those managing him. 

At long last, it was my final night of watching him. Coincidentally, the date lined up with Halloween, and I couldn’t be more thrilled to finally be free of this specific survey job. Don’t get me wrong, Spencer seemed nice- but God, his life was boring. I don’t want to say it was like watching paint dry,  out of respect, but previous targets had offered at least some part of their life to be interested within. Spencer had nothing. No friends over, no gossip-like phone conversations, no drunk wanderings home. Nothing! I know he didn’t sign up to be watched, but God. 

Like, come on. Give me anything here. 

Needless to say, I’d become accustomed to the quiet, and this night was no different. If he was following schedule, he should be home right about … now. 

Now? 

Now… 

Silence. 

Spencer was definitely a creature of habit, so to not see him adhere to the routine he’d so meticulously stuck to in the past was a bit jarring, but I assumed he was just running late. 

A few hours later, I reasoned he must be running really really late. It was bordering on midnight, and he still wasn’t home. I checked train schedules, possible reports of a car crash, just about anything that could keep him from his scheduled appearance at home. 

I was just about to call my supervisor to look into whether or not he’d been called out on a surprise case, but that’s when the door of his apartment creaked open, and I felt my shoulders deflate in relief. Okay, he was home. He was going to go to bed and- 

He wasn’t alone. 

Spencer was dressed in all black, a leather belt adorned with a gold belt buckle being the only color his outfit brought. He wore tiny devil’s ears upon his head, the headband pushing down on the mop of curls that sat atop his head. He looked absolutely delicious, if I must say myself, and it seemed the woman in his arms would agree with me. 

He practically pulled her into his apartment, kicking his door in with his leg before slightly fumbling with the lock. As soon as the mechanism slipped into place, his hands were all over her, pressing her flush against his body, as if he couldn’t bear to have any space between them. 

For all the time I’d been watching him, none of his behavior indicated the presence of any kind of significant other, so this girl must be a stranger. If this is how Spencer treated strangers though, I was surprised he didn’t have a barrage of women lining up at his door every night. 

His lips absolutely devoured the girl, his hand cradling the side of her face, before his thigh slipped in between her legs, possibly to soothe a building ache that had built up there in the time they’d spent together, which I found entirely possible, considering I, personally, was heated from simply watching. 

I watched the pixels on the screen with such precision, innocuous shades of red, green and blue painting the most sinful of images. I found myself noting the way his hand snuck up the girls’ dress, the way her breathing hitched as she pulled back, watching as Spencer presumably played with her clit. I could feel myself squeezing my thighs together, recognizing just how wrong it was to be turned on by the scene in front of me, but I couldn’t stop myself. It wasn’t as if this was the first time a target had behaved sexually in front of me. (Or in front of the camera, I suppose.) I’d seen and heard just about anything you could think of, but this was different- in a way. To see Spencer so filthy, so confident, so- interesting. It lit a fire in me that burned with every passing moment he touched this girl. 

I’m able to watch him circle over her panties in a way that has her groaning directly into his ear, a smug grin plastering his face as he watches her every reaction. 

“Like that?” He murmurs, and I’ve never heard his voice so fucking deep.

She nods frantically, and it only serves to widen his grin. I can feel myself rocking slightly in my own chair, doing anything to try and soothe the fast growing arousal within me, unable to stop from imagining myself in her place. His hands, the feel of hot breath down my neck- 

I’m stopped dead in my tracks, however, when his eyes suddenly shift to the camera closest to him, his eyebrow raising, as if in challenge. He continues to whisper in the girl’s ear, and has the galls to wink. I’m horrified, a very sudden and intense heat rising to my cheeks. I can only watch for a second more, before he’s suddenly pulling her away, and I realize he’s taken her  within one of the only blind spots within the apartment. 

I’m scrambling to turn off the feed, stunned into silence whilst, my heart beating uncontrollably and eccentrically. Oh god. He knew. He knew and he did that?! 

I stare into the empty space, a multitude of thoughts inhabiting my brainscape. On one hand, the aplomb shown in that situation was commendable, since most people would react to the knowledge that they’d been secretly watched in their own home for the past few months in a much more hostile way. On the other hand, how did he even acquire that knowledge? The cameras were virtually undetectable, and he’d never let on that he was aware of their presence, and I’d know, considering how closely I’d watched him. 

I shake off the thoughts, focusing on something other than the overwhelming mortification coursing through me now.  

Alright, tomorrow, get into his apartment, remove the cameras, and hopefully never have to look at the man again. In any capacity, honestly. 

When daylight broke, I turned on the cameras for the final time, a bit more sheepish, knowing he was aware of the devices plaguing his home. However, it seemed like he was once again pretending like he wasn’t aware of the looming existence of them, sending his female companion off her merry way once they woke up, before going about his normal routine, heading out of the apartment for what was most likely his morning coffee and then afternoon lecture at the university. 

That was my cue. I turned off the cameras,  quickly making my way out to sneak into his residence, the heavy door offering little resistance to my advances, my movements quiet and undetectable. 

I’m  in the process of removing the final camera I had placed in his bedroom, hidden behind a copy of  The Sign of Four. Doyle. He had good taste, I could give him that. 

I’m just about to turn around and get the hell out of there, when I hear a voice behind me. 

“I noticed that one first, you know.”

I turn around slowly, embarrassed and slightly fearful to find Spencer’s eyes meeting mine. I’d watched him for so long, but seeing him now– his eyes were so beautiful. The camera didn’t do him justice.

He continues, despite the silence. “The other ones were harder to spot, I’ll give you that, but once I knew where they were, it was a bit obvious, don’t you think?” 

I’m speechless. My mouth is agape, and all he seems to do is smile at my lack of prose. 

“Don’t look so surprised. I know this apartment. I’m not here a lot, but I spend enough time to know when things have been shifted around.” His tone is cheeky, and he pauses, almost theatrically to add on:

“I’m sure you knew that though.”  His smile turns into more of a smirk. 

God, did he have to be so hot?

“Are you going to complain to the Bureau?” I manage out, keeping my eyes steady on him. 

“Did you find anything of note to tell them?” He responds, tilting his head with curiosity. 

I shake my head vehemently. “No, um. Nothing pertinent to say.” I get my words out in a hurry, my gaze continually trained on him. 

He meets my eyes with the same stare. “Then I don’t have much of a reason to complain.” 

I nod solemnly. I’m wondering where this situation will lead- what either of our next moves are. Before I can ponder long though, he surprises me and takes a step closer.

“I saw you, you know.” He says. “Thought I was going insane when the same pretty girl kept showing up at the bookstore and coffee shop out of the blue, but I’ve never been one to believe in coincidences.” 

“Oh.” I whisper. I really wasn’t as good as I thought I was. 

“You really shouldn’t beat yourself up.” He says, chuckling with some mirth. “Again, I’m observant. I notice these things. That, and you’re pretty.” He says, forward. “So, more of a reason to notice.” 

“Oh.” I reply, yet again, dumbfounded by the events currently transpiring. 

“Yes, oh.” He chuckles, before he starts to move closer yet again. “Tell me. Were you watching last night?” He murmurs, his voice dropping a bit deeper as he directly addresses the elephant in the room. 

I give a movement of affirmation, because at this point, what could he do? What could I do? 

“So you saw.” He mumbles, moving to position himself right in front of me, his eyes darkened and laser focused on my figure. 

“Yes.” I whisper, my voice hushed as our proximity decreased, his breath fanning out over my face now. I’d be uncomfortable, if I wasn’t so distracted. 

“Tell me.” He whispers, letting his calloused finger finally touch my skin, running down my neck. “Did it turn you on? Watching me with her?” 

I feel the familiar heat of embarrassment rise to my cheeks, my eyes suddenly widening not only due to the sudden proximity, but also the scandalous nature of his words. Did he mean for me to watch? Was that his plan all along? What was this sick and twisted game he was playing?

“Did it.. get you off?” He whispers, his lips leaning in to kiss lightly at the side of my neck where his finger once was. 

I freeze, leaning into his touch and going statue-like all at once. I can’t help the shakiness of my voice when I reply. “I.. wasn’t neutral.” 

“Mm.” He murmurs, kissing now at my jawline. “Did you get off? When she did?” He whispers.

“I didn’t watch that long.” I reply, helplessly, as I feel his hands start to envelop my waist, pulling me closer to him. 

“What a shame.” He mumbles. “I think you would’ve liked the show. I did it for you.” 

At this point, I can barely speak, a slight moan escaping me instead of a coherent reply as his lips continue to leave warm, wet kisses on the expanse of my flesh. 

“I’m sure you’re curious.” He says, his voice soft and seductive. “Would you like me to show you what we did?”

There’s no hesitation, finally, a resounding thought I can translate from brain-to-mouth for him, in complete certainty.

“Yes.” I manage out, breathlessly. 

He makes a noise of satisfaction, quickly pushing me onto the bed. 

“I’d already gotten her wet by touching her before, but if my suspicions are correct.” He murmurs, his hands working deftly to undo my jeans and feel the wetness that had accumulated in between my thighs. “You already are.” He finishes. 

I let out a small whimper as his fingers touch the heated flesh, unable to help my sensitivity to his small, calculated strokes over my clit through my underwear. His fingers starts to move a bit more aggressively, upon feeling the wet patch that had formed there, the flimsy fabric doing little to hide the stickiness he was now collecting on his fingers. He quickly pulls them off as well though, bringing his slightly damp fingers to his mouth, tasting the hint of my arousal that had accumulated there. His eyes were dark, watching my face for any reaction, and in that moment, I know all he can see is pure want. 

I can see the same hunger within his eyes, and I feel a rush of pride as the approval radiates off of him. 

“What next?” I whisper, already desperate for his next slew of ministrations. I don’t care how needy I looked. I was needy. I’d spent so long watching him, and now he was here.

“She wanted my mouth.” He murmurs, kneeling at the edge of the bed. His thumb brushes over my clit, his tongue running against plump, pink lips, wetting them, watching over me with a predatory gaze. 

Before I can respond, he’s suddenly everywhere, ducking his head and allowing his tongue to brush over my sex in broad, wet strokes. My response is immediate, my hips bucking up to meet him in a frenzied motion. It seems that he relishes in whatever control he can have in this situation, because he quickly holds down my hips in a firm grip, squeezing the fat there while he continued to ravage me. 

I can barely look at him, pretty brown locks splayed in his face, his lips moving hypnotically against my cunt. Little whimpers escape me, absolutely aching for more. He seems to catch on, and flicks his tongue over me, before suckling against my clit. It’s wet, messy, and the picture of debauchery– and it’s enough to drive me over the edge, my hands gripping the sheets as I cry out his name. 

He seems to be unaffected, getting off his knees, his mouth glistening with my release. The sight makes me wish he could do it again, but before I can get a word in, he’s positioning himself over me, caging me against the bed. 

“Then I fucked her.” He whispers, starting to undo his belt with his free hand. “Can I?” 

I nod, feeling a wave of anticipation, before registering the sensation of the head of his cock nudging my entrance. I feel my chest tighten, watching him with bated breath, absolutely exhilarated. 

“Relax.” He whispers, kissing the lobe of my ear. “You’re in good hands.” 

He utters the last word, before sliding into me, a hushed gasp leaving the both of us. He groans in pleasure, his eyes fluttering shut as he takes in the feel of my warm, wet cunt around him. He takes a moment, before he’s setting a steady pace, his hips bucking rhythmically into me in a way that’s designed to bring us both so much pleasure. 

I can’t help the string of moans that come out with every slide of his cock inside me, my legs wrapping around his waist, urging him closer than he already is. My hands grip onto his shirt, clawing onto the fabric to find any purchase, wanting– no, needing him on me. 

Is it odd to wish a stranger could crawl into your skin itself? 

“Fuck, Spencer.” I moan, unabashedly. “You feel so good.”

“You do too.” He groans, his arms braced on either side of my head before gently lowering himself to crash his lips against mine in a messy kiss. 

I can feel myself barreling towards release, as is he, if the twitch of his cock inside me were to mean anything. It’s not long before his hand reaches in between where our bodies are met, rubbing my clit in fast, small circles. It’s intense in the best way possible, my body barely being able to process how good it felt in the moment. 

“Come for me.” He moans, in between kisses. “Wanna feel you around me. Please.”

I can’t help but obey his words, my cunt convulsing around him in obedience as he subsequently finds his release inside me, groaning loudly as his hips thrust erratically. 

He pulls out, and we’re a tangle of limbs, sweaty and sated, breathing heavy. 

Of course, it’s him, yet again, to break the silence. 

“Two things.” He mumbles, breathlessly. 

“Mm.” I reply, weakly, my head a mess of airiness and complacency after the orgasm he’d just brought me to. 

“One. I want your name.” He says, rolling to his side to get a better look at my face. 

“That can be arranged.” I murmur, nodding dreamily. 

“Second.” He whispers, kissing my cheek. His voice takes on a teasing quality to it, before leaning to brush his lips against my ear.  

“You missed a camera. Behind the plant. They don’t stop recording, do they?” 

okay wowww. clearly this was meant for halloween, if you couldn't tell! this is one of those pieces where i'm like.. hmm .. do i like this? question mark? do i want to put it out? hmm .. but regardless, i hope you guys enjoyed it!! please, please like, reblog, and comment if you enjoyed!!! it is sooo important as an author that i get some feedback and know what you guys think, in any capacity. i truly appreciate all of it <33 thank you for reading, thank you for everything!!!

[mywritersmind]

THREE DAYS. TWO CONFESSIONS. - KA12

summary : A pair of flirty teens with rich parents and talent running through their blood. In three days of running into eachother in black and red, the pair seem to come to the conclusion that maybe their jokes aren’t too far off from the truth.

listen up : suggestive jokes. dual pov!! mutual pining! banter! kimixbearman!reader. idk apparently i have a thing for wrong kimi x photographers

word count : 3740

⋆｡‧˚⋆

I’m staring at him.

He’s talking to an engineer from Mercedes, leaning against a table with his arms braced against it. Fuck his arms. Tan and veiny, gripping the table.

His curls bounce as he nods, his jaw moving as his words meet the open air. I bring my camera up to my face, peering through and snapping one shot. One for myself.

One of him.

Kimi turns his head when I take the photo, the confused look on his face changing, the corner of his lip quirking upwards.

He excuses himself, walking over to me while slipping his hands into his pockets, “Antonelli.” I nod.

“Bella.” He says it as if it’s any other word, yet the weight of it hangs above me like a knife.

He’s called me ‘Bella’ ever since I caught him talking to his friend in italian two years ago. He was explaining who was in the group photo we took at Prema and he said, “The pretty one to the left is Y/n.”

In the moment, my heart did a funny flip, but I played it off and am now stuck with him calling me ‘Pretty’ in his favorite romantic language.

“Saw your face when Lewis radioed.” I fake a frown, “Don't want the car anymore?”

He stays calm and collected, his accent hitting me once again, “It’s like you don’t want to see me every weekend next year.” He frowns, “I know you better than that.”

I cross my arms, looking up at him, “Do you?”

“If I wasn’t there, who would you bully?”

A small smile breaks my cool exterior, “True. My brother isn’t as easy as you.”

He bites his lip, shaking his head, “Ollie is a project for both of us to bug.”

⋆༺

I’m in the Ferrari garage for the majority of the day, practice going smoothly and my day getting increasingly boring.

I end up walking over to Ollie as he gets out of his car, “My speedy brother!” I smile as he pulls his helmet off, the same grin he has everytime he gets out of a car.

“My snappy sister.” He greets me as I raise a brow. “Oh! Later today I'm going over to Kimi’s room so I can’t get dinner with you…” I frown, “Sorry! Guys night. Jack too.”

I cross my arms, “How are the three of you already pissing me off and your season hasn’t started yet?” Ollie just laughs and shrugs, leaving me in the pitlane.

I continue my walk, taking some more photos even though I'm technically supposed to focus on Ferrari pics. I see Kimi in the Mercedes garage, talking animatedly with Lewis.

I pull myself away because too many times I’ve gotten caught looking at him.

I continue my walk to see Jack Doohan standing alone, “Jack!” I smile as I approach him.

He grins a toothy smile, “Y/n! Long time no see!”

“Shit, yeah! How’ve you been?”

“Great! This weather is worrying me though.” I look up to the blue skies, frowning, “I have a feeling.” Jack and his ‘feelings’ are well known in the paddock.

“Well, if it does rain i’m calling for a singing in the rain moment!”

“I’m thinking more of Tom Holland and an umbrella.” I let out a loud laugh, reaching out to touch his arm.

“I’m so in! I can definitely find a black wig and leather.” He shakes his head, his gaze flicking past me.

I turn instinctively. Kimi is looking at us, his face blank but soon turns into a soft smile and a wave. Jack waves back but Kimi doesn’t look at me, just walks back into the garage.

I make a face, turning back to Jack, “Weird.” He laughs out loud, staring down at me, “What?”

Jack just shakes his head, “I’ll see you later, Y/n.”

⋆༺

KIMI

The guys somehow found three old gaming controllers and hooked them up to the TV. Ollie and Jack are screaming at each other as I grab the ice bucket, “Hey! Grab me a candy bar?”

“Oh! And some crisps!” Jack cuts in. Rolling my eyes, I grab some cash and slip out the door.

As I walk down the hallway, I’m humming a stupid one direction song that Ollie got stuck in my head. The hotel is nice and I pause when I walk past the window.

Brazil stares back at me, the darkness isolating the few lights that are still on. I pull myself away from the view and continue humming and walking to the ice machine.

I stop my noise as soon as I turn the corner, seeing a girl standing with her back facing me, and her foot repeatedly hitting the vending machine.

She’s in pink low waisted flared sweats, and what looks like a formerly oversized shirt, cut into a crop and off the shoulder top.

“Fuck!” She yells again, this time placing her hands on the machine.

“Y/n?” I don’t mean to scare her, but she jumps. “Sorry. You need help?”

She looks hopelessly between me and the machine, crossing her arms over her bare skin, “Yes. This stupid thing ate my money!”

I can’t help but smile at her anger, her face is red and her hair looks like she’s shoved her hands through it a million times.

I quietly nod, peering into the box and seeing the stuck candy. I put my money in, buying a packet of strawberry cookies that do exactly what I hoped.

When the pack falls, it knocks her candy right out. “My savior.” She jokes before bending down and reaching into it. My gaze flicks down to her ass, the curve of her waist and her skin on display.

When she stands, I finally see her candy. It’s a chocolate bar with some sort of nuts and she looks ecstatic to finally have it in her grasp.

“Thank you!” She hands over my cookies that I hope Ollie will eat, “How’s the boys night going? They put you on errand duties?” She laughs a bit, a sound I wish I could bottle.

I scratch the back of my neck, “Yeah… What are you up to tonight?”

She shrugs, “Movies, going through pictures, snacks, crying. The usual?”

I let out a breathy laugh, “Why are you crying?”

“I miss my cat.”

“Mmm, peppermint.” I swear she almost starts crying right there. But she takes a breath, “You alone?”

It’s like a switch flips and she’s suddenly looking up at me like I'm more than some kid from karting. She bats her eyelashes, “I don’t have to be. Ditch the guys, I'm watching the princess bride.” I frown, I do love that movie.

“As appealing as that sounds… I think your brother would have an issue with that.” Her lips quirk into a slow smirk. God I love her lips.

“Tell them you got lost. Or kidnapped!” she steps a bit closer, “You really gonna turn down my invite?”

Fuck. Actually fuck. Fuck Ollie for having such a hot sister and fuck her for being so damn convincing. “You’re making it really hard for me.”

She doesn’t miss a fucking beat, raising a brow innocently, “Making more than one thing hard?”

I bite my lip, shaking my head, “You’re funny.”

She doesn’t break eye contact, “I aim to please.”

“You’re gonna get me in trouble, Bella.” I see her flirty facade break when I call her that. She likes it and I like that I can make her blush like that.

She flips her hair over her shoulder, “There’s this thing called self control.

I run my tongue over my teeth, “Trust me. I know a thing or two about it.” She looks satisfied at my answer, “Is this gonna come back to haunt me?”

She blinks innocently, backing up, “I have no idea what you’re talking about!”

I groan, watching her sinister smirk as she leaves, “Bearman…”

She mocks me, laughing, “Antonelli.” I want her to say my name a million times in a million different ways.

I nod slowly, “Have fun crying!”

“Have fun thinking about me!” She blows a kiss before disappearing around the corner. I want to chase after her and keep our conversation going forever.

Instead, I buy a bag of crisps and a chocolate bar. Walking back to my room, all I can wonder is why the universe continues to test me with my best friend's bloody sister.

⋆༺

YOU

I bounce around the paddock, RAYE in my headphones and my camera in hand. The sprint is over and after some dramatics, the rain started.

I texted Jack as soon as I saw the dark cloud, letting him know he’d be good as a prophet.

I run into Franco, he looks tired but happy to see me, “Fran!” He hasn’t been here for long, but his first day was when we met and hit it off instantly. He’s like another brother to me.

“I’m hiding from the media.” He whispers, “Anything interesting happen to you recently?” My mind immediately goes to Kimi and last night. Something about him just makes me need to mess with him.

But maybe it’s not all for fun, maybe it’s a bit of truth mixed with flirting.

“Uh oh…” Franco points at me, “You've got that look in your eye.”

I scoff, playing it off, “What look?”

“That look like something interesting did happen to you. Spill!” I’m about to say something but a figure appears next to us, clapping his hand with Franco and smiling at me.

“Norris!” I thank god for the distraction.

“What’s up?” He’s in all papaya orange, a water bottle in hand.

Franco smirks, “Y/n here was just about to tell me about her interesting life!” He crosses his arms, “Go ahead.”

“Oh?” Lando turns to me as well, standing next to Franco. I suddenly feel very ganged up on.

“I’m not telling you two anything! You’re both too nosy.”

“Can’t help but be curious. Especially about you.” Franco’s relaxed manner makes my lips crack, smiling a bit. “So tell us, who’s the boy?”

“You’re not my brother- you don’t get to ask that.”

“You tell Ollie about your boy troubles?” Lando asks.

“He’s my twin, it’s in the rule book. At least everything he won’t gag at.”

Lando laughs at this, his eyes tracking past me and I know instantly as him and Franco smile, “Kid!” Lando waves him over just as Franco catches the look on my face.

His mouth drops but I just run my tongue over my teeth, holding back my smile with my hands on my hips.

Kimi is next to me in seconds, coolly looking at me as if he wasn’t an inch away from me yesterday. “Hey.”

“So what are your intentions?” Franco comes in hot and embarrassing, my eyes widening at him.

Kimi looks confused and a little intimidated, “With…?”

I stare Franco down, my eyes wide and panicked, Lando finally understanding and breaking out into laughter.

“Next year. You gonna be okay with your friend on the grid? I mean we all saw what happened with Lewis.”

Kimi looks at me as if i’m going to be any help, “I think i’ll be okay… Y/n will probably give me more issues than Ol.”

I scoff, “Right. You’re so cocky with Merc. Do you need a reminded how Lewis is driving that car this weekend?” I tick and wave my finger, “Ollie was totally geeking out when he overtook him.”

He laughs as Lando smiles, “I say we get Y/n a car and see how she likes it.”

Kimi shakes his head, “Don't say that! She’ll go bowling and still win.”

I smile widely, “I was a menace in karting. Kimi has never had the pleasure of racing against me.”

“You’re the one getting cocky, Bella. You really think you can beat me?” I nod, knowing full well I would not beat him.

Lando and Franco both look at us quizzically, “Bella?” Franco speaks italian. Something Kimi clearly did not know.

Lando frowns, “Bella? Is that your middle name or something.” Kimi looks like a deer in headlights.

“More like a nickname.” I mumble.

Franco eyes me, “And you know what it means?”

Lando is still confused, “What does it mean!?”

We all ignore him, “Mhm.” I say as Kimi fiddles with his ring, “Anyways- I gotta go!”

⋆༺

I ignore Kimi for the rest of the day. In my mind, i’m blaming it on work as if the rain hasn’t stopped my job.

Well, I still sit in the garage and snap pictures of the same things over and over again. Charles and Carlos are pretty but become boring to look at after two hours of them sitting and staring into space.

“Y/n!” The head media manager comes up to me, “Could you go print out what I just sent you? It’s for a tiktok.” I nod, grateful for a distraction and a reason to get out of the cold.

Walking through the halls, I stare at blank walls and try to find the printer which we share with two other teams.

It’s hidden in a dark corner, the door shut. I walk in, still humming to my music when I face Kimi. I’m reminded of last night and how his humming ceased when he saw me.

He turns around when the door squeaks, “Oh, Hey.”

“They got you running errands again?” I smile, the door shutting behind me.

“You’re one to talk.” He eyes my phone in my hand, the picture pulled up already.

“Fair enough…” I walk closer to him, he’s leaning over the printer, “How long is your stuff going to take?”

“I’m assuming a while because I can’t get it to work.” My eyebrows pull together as I look at the tiny screen, my arm brushing his as I reach over and press some buttons.

I eye his arms, something that keeps acting a magnet for my eyes. Stupid driver workouts.

Kimi checks his watch, groaning, “I gotta be back soon.” I keep messing with it as he crosses his arms.

“I’m not very experienced in printers.” I shrug, turning to him, “Maybe we can borrow Haas’?” He makes a face, “It’s a printer, not a car part.”

When he reaches for the doorknob a sense of sadness washes over me, knowing we’ll be separated again.

But i’m supposed to be avoiding him! I can't make up my mind and it’s making me angry. I don’t want to be with him but I do at the same time and I'm busy and stressed and he’s so damn cute.

He turns it, except it doesn’t turn. His hand slides over it as it stays in place. He looks back at me, already panicked.

Suddenly, i’ve completely forgot about why I want to stay with him. Because all I can focus on is that I’m stuck in a tiny room with Kimi Antonelli and no fucking air.

⋆༺

KIMI

We’ve texted everyone we know, called and banged on the door, yet still… nothing.

I think she’s freaking out because her hand hasn’t left her bracelet. I sit next to her on the floor as she shivers, “I’m going to petition for a bigger warning budget.” I laugh a bit, shrugging off my jacket.

I see her gaze drop to the black bomber, “I don’t know how you’re cold because I'm getting hot.” I push the jacket closer to her and she offers a small smile and pulls it on.

I think she’s going to stay quiet, but she looks up and sighs, “Must be because I'm so hot.”

I laugh, grateful for her humor back, “Glad to know you’re feeling well enough to talk yourself up.” a small smile graces her lips again.

“The day I don’t, call the police.” She crosses her arms, pulling my jacket close to her, “Thanks.”

“No problem, I told you, you look good in mercedes merch.” She’s facing the wall across from us still, her head tilted back as she bites back a smile.

“Do I look good in Mercedes, or is it just because it’s yours?” She tilts her head towards me as a slow smile meets my lips.

“Bit of both?” I look at her. Her eyes locked on mine as they squint a bit, assessing my answer. “Mostly cause it’s mine.”

She shakes her head, looking forward again, her cheeks pink.

“Your flirting game has improved.” she teases again, “Must be all the time around me.” cocky. arrogant. and correct.

“Nah, I think it’s because I actually mean it.” I see her breathing change, her smile fading.

“Too far, Antonelli. Don’t do that.” She whispers.

“Do what?”

She sits up, turning towards me completely, “Giving me false hope.”

I blink, realizing that this is real and happening right now as we’re stuck in a tiny room, “There’s nothing false about it.” when she starts to look away from me, rolling her eyes, I scoff, “You can’t be the one upset about this. You started this!”

“I started this?” she looks shocked but her voice is still calm, “You called me ‘Bella’. You called me Bella and I didn’t even know your last name.”

“Some girls would like that I described her as I see her. And you 100% love it.” She licks her lips as I continue, “Ollie tells both of us to stop constantly. I thought you at least do it to bug him.”

“Kimi. I don’t care what my brother says that much and… If I was doing it because of Ollie- I wouldn’t flirt with you when we’re alone.”

“So you like it. So why did you tell me to stop?” I can’t quite place the look on her face, confusion mixed with… anger?

“I told you… false hope.”

“And I told you. There’s nothing false about it.” She swallows. I can hear myself breathing as she stares at me.

She stares at me as if it's the first time we met. She stares at me like she knows everything about me. She’s confusing and it’s making me so angry because we’re stuck in this fucking room and neither of us will-

I’m so caught up in my own mind that I don’t realize she’s leaning in. I don’t realize until her hand touches my jaw and her lips are on mine.

She pulls back, her eyes wide and her breath quickened. “I- Sorry.” I’m shaking my head and pulling her in before she can talk again.

She tastes like mint and smells like chocolate. My hand slips under the jacket, gripping her waist. I think I'm dreaming and if I am I don’t want to ever be woken up.

“Bella.” I whisper, my breath ragged and her smile pressing against my lips.

And then the door opens.

We pull apart so quickly that when Ollie blinks down at us, he doesn't see us. But he knows.

Y/n’s lips are red and my cheeks match it. We’re both panting and Ollie just blinks.

“Ollie.” Y/n says, her voice breaking the silence.

“No.” Is all he says before turning around and leaving.

⋆༺

YOU

Ollie isn’t pissed.

Ollie is… embarrassed? Uncomfortable? Horrified that he caught his sister and best friend making out?

We had texted him to get us out of that room and obviously I completely forgot because I was FUCKING KISSING KIMI.

I’m still warm and absolutely buzzing, but with the rain delay, I'm on extra photo duty. I edit all through the afternoon and fall asleep before I even think of texting him.

On quali and race day, I wake up way too early to my phone dead, and when I finally make it to the track, I'm working again.

With my phone a tiny bit charged, I text Kimi.

I’m tapping my foot the whole race, cringing at every crash and mentally screaming at every red flag.

I keep checking my phone to see if Kimi has texted me but still nothing. He pops up on the TV when Lewis gets overtaken.

I don’t mean to smile, but I do.

It’s ridiculous. I’m acting like a total school girl! One day, i’m flirting and sizing him up because I thought our game was… well… just a game. Even though I didn’t want it to be. And the next, I'm kissing him and checking my phone like an obsessed freak in love.

I really do like him. And that scares me a whole lot more than I expected.

⋆༺

KIMI

I frown with the team at todays result for Lewis, but I fucking run out of the garage the second the podium starts.

I find her in the midst of chaos, her hair is wet and I can’t help but laugh. She doesn’t see me yet, but she’s making a disgusted face and peeling her hair off her face, “Bella.”

She turns just then, her face morphing into a smile, “Hi.”

“You wanted to talk?” She nods, pulling me into an empty glass room.

“I like you.”

A slow smile pulls at my lips as I lean against the table, “I like you too…”

She sighs, like all she needed was to hear that. “But i’m fucking scared because how does that even work and I always thought you flirted back as a joke and Ollie is so weird about it and I really really like you.”

I take her hand in mine, her eyes settling on me, “The first time I saw you, I told Ollie you were pretty. He then informed me that you were his twin and I wanted to die.” She laughs out loud, “But it’s more than your face, because as pretty as you are, and as much as we flirt… I like you because you’re the smartest eighteen year old I know and the only one who can make me laugh and blush simultaneously.”

Her breath slows, stepping closer so she’s standing in between my legs, “I’m sorry for being a pussy about you.”

I laugh, “I wouldn’t give up your cheesy lines for anything.” my favorite smile stares back at me. The one that I create. I poke her in the side, “You fancy me!” I mock her accent as she rolls her eyes and kisses me.

She’s sweet and perfect and my girl.

[vulpixisananimal]

<Null> {Mal Du Pays} [Loop] (Siffrin) (Wren belongs to @fungal--wastes)

(You were looking out the window of your room down to the small courtyard next to the inn. Ramos, Isabeau, Vixul, and Mirabelle had all teamed up to do some training together. It was amazing to watch them all work. They'd paired up to practice with each others weapons. Mirabelle and Vixul, Isabeau and Ramos.)

(Isabeau you knew, big defender that he is. It was hard to take your eyes from him, with how he moved, how he was able to take hits like brick, with how he was smiling the whole time. So confident, strong, he didn't even need a weapon.)

(Ramos you were still learning, but they were fast and strong, like a middle ground between you and Isa. They could get in fast, hurt hard, then stand their ground. Tonfas suited them. The vest and bandana made sense too, like some, cool bandit look, or. . . You shake your head.)

(Mirabelle had been working to get better ever since your fight with Perci. She was always quick on her feet, and was able to sting. She often reacted to things far before her more ration brain caught up; which lead to many accidental bruises.)

(And Vixul, she was fast too, and nimble. She used a spear and knew how to get in and get out quickly. Although, she eventually swapped from spear to a pair of. . . What looked like gauntlets with armor that extended up the forarms. She fought differently, now, more defensive. You'll have to think about that.)

(There's a knock on the door. You sigh, and get up. You're supposed to be resting, but you couldn't sleep. Maybe it was Bonnie coming to nag you about rest again. You go over and open the door.)

". . . Afternoon, Siffrin." (Wren was standing at the door, expression unchanging, as usual.) "May I come in?"

"Uh. . ." (Well this is a surprise.) "Sure?"

"Thank you."

(You turn, walk to your bed, and sit down.) "Haha, sorry it's a mess, don't exactly have the energy to-"

(You were cut off by Wren closing the door, and locking it.)

(You continue.) ". . . Toooo clean up the place, y'know?

"Quite." (He walked over to the small table and chair the room had and placed his book on the table.) "Can we just skip past the small talk, Siffrin?"

". . ." (Oh this was turning from worrying to potentially dangerous. Where did you put your dagger again?) "Uuuuh, oookaaay?"

"Good." (He tilts his head slightly to you, his eyes stabbing directly into your soul.) "You made a wish to be able to turn back time, no? And it was most likely made when you were about to face the King?"

(You can't cover your shock fast enough. He smiles, and continues.) "It was, wasn't it?"

". . . . . H-how-"

"You knew exactly where to find our antagonists. You know things you shouldn't about myself and my companions. You knew Polaris was effected by mind craft before I or Vixul did and exactly what to do about it. And you had a level of craft exhaustion that should have by all rights killed you."

(He continues.) "What's more, I did some digging. Did you hear news of that strange sadness in Jouvente? It was at the same time you saviors were all visiting. I overheard that you and Ramos used to be enemies, Ramos can use mind craft, and that you had craft exhaustion back then, too."

"But, that's-"

(He cuts you off.) "Do you know how many traps are in the that House of Change? Or about how overrun by sadness it was? And from what I hear you ran through it all by yourself. And should I even mention the rumors of a shade stained sky?"

". . ."

"And." (He turns to face you fully.) "I listened in on your 'Former Saviors of Vaugarde' team meeting."

(. . . . . . . . What.)

(Wren just walked into your room and tore down your veil of secrets with one swing. He tore it down, ripped it to shreds, and tossed the remains in a fire. You couldn't be mad, confused, or scared; that would come later. Because right now you were just impressed.)

(You fall back on the bed.) ". . . Yeah. It was the day before we fought the King, too."

"Close, then. And everything else?"

"Dead on." (You sigh.) "I spent 20-odd loops in Jouvente trying to deal with Ramos."

"And here?"

"23? 24? Most of those happened in quick succession. That's what really causes the craft exhaustion." (You rub your head.) "It's like, the body needs to recharge, or, something."

"And when you fought the King?"

". . . . 176." (You sit up again.) "Repeating the same two days over, and over, and over again, for almost a year."

". . ." (You look up, Wren was writing in his book.) ". . . Don't worry, this stays between us."

"It had better." (You look away.) ". . . How do you know about wish craft, anyway."

"I learned about it when traveling with Vixul and Polaris."

(A lie.) "No you didn't."

". . . No, I didn't." (He sighs.) "It doesn't matter. What did you wish for?"

"I think it does matter, Wren." (You cross your arms.) "Wish craft isn't just, something you can pick up any regular old book on and learn about. At least not without a big headache."

(Wren was staring at the pages of his book, like he was burning the pages with his mind.) ". . . . What. Did. You. Wish. For."

". . . Wren-?"

"How did you do it." (He cuts you off again, pen pressed to the page.) "What method did you use?"

"I'm not-"

"How far back can you go?" (His voice wavers.) "How. Far."

"W-wren-"

(His pen snaps in two. There's a silence.)

". . . . . . . ."

". . . . . . . ." (You tuck your legs under your cloak, and look away.)

". . . . . . . I need to know." (He didn't look at you.) "Please."

". . . I, Wren. . . I, I can't tell you. I-it's complicated-"

"I have all day, Siffrin." (His expression, you knew that expression.)

(It's the expression of someone trying with all their might to hold back tears. You knew that expression, because you had seen a picture of yourself with that same expression dozens of times.)

(Okay, you breathe in, and out.) "I can't tell you, because, because it put me through hell. And, and I don't want that to happen to you."

"Try me."

(Is this guy serious?) "Didn't you hear me?!? 176 loops, 352 days, all trying to escape a nightmare where nothing ever changed!!!" (You look away again.) "Whatever you're thinking, it, are, you sure it's worth-"

"I'd loop 300 times." (There's not even a second of hesitation.) "No, I'd do 500. 1,000. Maybe even more. It would be worth it."

(You snap back to him.) "I- you don't, really believe-"

"I do." (His voice is steady.) "I mean every single word, Siffrin."

(. . . . Oh.)

". . ." (He wasn't just serious, he was determined, desperate, begging. There, there was no way out of this was there. J-just, just, keep talking.) ". . . . What's worth it, Wren."

(There is a very, very long silence.)

". . . . . . . . His name was Icarus."

(It's as if you could hear a pin drop.)

(He continued.) "He, he was someone very important to me. . . No, not that. He was the only thing important to me. Every day I would get out of bed because of him. I would endure the world because of him. I would look forward to the nights because of him."

"I would have given him the world, if he asked." (His voice cracks. You see a tear on his cheek.) "If it, if it wasn't for him I would have taken a knife to my throat a long, long time ago."

". . . ." (You had to ask.) "What happened?"

". . . . I, I-I don't know." (He hangs his head down.) "He, h-he's dead, or dying, or somewhere in between it's, I, I can't explain it. And I don't know if I can save him, or if it's too late or if I never could and I'm just wasting my time but I have to try!"

"I have to try."

"I have to try."

". . . . . ."

"Because if I don't try, then he's, he's. . ."

". . . . . . . . . . . ."

(. . . . How could you even respond to that. You couldn't look. It would just, just make you start crying as well.)

[. . . Stardust?]

(Loop? Where have you been-)

[Let me talk to him.]

(. . . O-okay. You close your eye and lean back. You breathe in. . . .)

[. . . .]

[. . . And out. . . . You hold your head in your hand, dizzy. Really dizzy. You wait a second for it to pass, then talk.] ". . . Wren?"

"Siffrin?" (He responds.)

"Close, but no~"

"Right." (He looks at you slightly, eyes dark from tears.) ". . . Loop? Is that the name?"

"Bingo." [You respond, you want to joke around, but your heart isn't in it.]

". . ." [He turns back to the book.] "Here to talk to me?"

"Yes yes, I am." [You roll your eye. You hop back fully on the bed and lay down.] "I'm here to tell you how to make a wish!"

[He looked up suspiciously.] ". . . You are?"

"Yes~" [You put a finger to your chin.] "I'm going to tell you. And I'm going to tell you aaaaaall the details that Siffrin left out~ You're lucky, you know. Not even our good companions know this, so you had better not tell them."

". . . My lips are sealed."

"Good!" [You pause for a second, smiling. Where you really about to tell a stranger this? Yes, you were. What better a place to hide secrets than in another desperate traveler.]

"I made a wish the day before we fought the King to stay with my family. I didn't know that was my wish, just how I did it. I took a leaf that represented me, and whispered my wish into it three times, closed it, and tied it to the tree. And all of a sudden I was in a time loop! And no~ This is very differen't than Stardust- Siffrins experience."

"I had no-one. I was alone in trying to escape it. I was stuck. I battled my way through that house hundreds, thousands, tens of thousands of times." [You continue to smile. Fake. (You knew how to smile. You knew how to fake it.)] "I beat the King. Once."

[(That Desperate one is looking at you, no doubt his mind at work. He was trying to decypher you. He was trying to tell just what was going on with that messed up little head of yours. Oh he was so, SO clever wasn't he!!)]

[(You continue.)] "One time. Once. Out of thousands, and it cost everything. And even after all that, I was still forced back to try it aaaaaall over again~"

"So I gave up! I gave it all up! I cried, pleaded, begged to the Universe for someone ANYONE to help! And do you know what the Universe did? It gave me exactly what I wished for."

[(Your smile wasn't normal.)] "Next thing I knew I woke up at the foot of that favor tree, a new lightless body of stars and a head as bright as the sun. I was unrecognisiable. Not even to myself~"

[(The Desperates eyes widen, you grinn.)] "Figured it out, haven't you~?"

[(There's a pause, he looks you over, your demeanor, your voice, evereything.)] ". . . You're not a normal alter. You are Siffrin."

"Correct~ Aaaand~?"

". . . You, became a sort of guide, for, a new Siffrin?"

"Correct!!" [(You clap your hands together.)] "Stardust didn't recognise me, no one recognised me. I had a lovely new job as the stagehand for my wonderful replacement actor! Forced to guide him untill the very end~ Oh and I do mean forced. I had to teach them how to kill themself because they asked."

"And now as one last cruel joke, with it all over, the Universe took me and stuck me in their blinding body. Forced to watch their happy ending."

"So! Wren, does that sound worth it to you?"

[There is a long, long, long silence. So long that the sound of your friends sparing outside stopped as they finished. You eventually hear Wren let out a breath.]

[He taps a finger on his book and talked quietly.] ". . . You make. . . A compelling argument, but. . ."

"Buuuuuuut~?"

". . . . ." [There was hesitation.] "I, I can't falter now."

[In too deep.]

". . . I understand." [You stand up.] "That's why I'm going to tell you how."

[You walk over to Wren and drag a chair over to sit next to him, you got a new pen, and you got to work.]

[You tell him about wishes, you tell him about home, and how you repeated wishes three, six, seven, or thirteen times. You told him about how whatever you wished for, you had to believe it. And what you wish for might not be what you think you're wishing for.]

[And you warn him every step of the way.]

[It was like you were writing a script. If one thing was out of place, out of line, then the whole play would collapse. You couldn't stop him, you knew that, but this was the next best thing.]

". . . And one last thing."

"Hmm?" [Wren was finishing writing the last of his notes.]

". . . If you decide to go through with this." [You look away.] ". . . Tell those close to you, about everything."

[He pauses, and glances up.]

[You continue.] ". . . It would have, saved me a lot of time."

[He looks at you a moment, then he lets his face relax and smile just a little.] "I promise."

"Thank you." [You get up and stretch.] "If you're looking for more information, go to the Dormont House of Change."

"I imagine you are very familiar?"

"Down to the brick~" [You collapse face down onto the bed.] "Now get out of here, I'm tired."

"Well since you asked so nicely." [He gathers his things, pauses a moment, and goes to leave.]

". . . Wren."

[He pauses.] ". . . Yes?"

". . . . ." [You turn your face away.] "Please, don't make the same mistakes I did."

[There's a pause.] ". . . I'll, do my best. Thank you, Loop."

"Save it." [You hold up a finger.] "Save it for when, for when you don't end up like me."

[taeyongdoyoung]

point of view

summary: you sneak into your ex-boyfriend's ship with the desperate hope to save your Jedi friends. but you discover more than you bargained for... pairing: seonghwa x reader x chan genre: space opera, romance (?), science fiction, fantasy warnings: morally grey characters, mentions of past crimes (unspecified but we're talking Anakin Skywalker level of crimes), betrayal, cheating (?), kissing, crying, just overall Star Wars setting with no clear-cut boundaries between good and evil author's note: the events are loosely based on certain scenes in Revenge of the Sith and the title is inspired by Ariana Grande's pov word count: 2.3k

The lightsaber glows brighter as you near your destination. All along, you knew it was a bad idea to infiltrate Darth Mars's ship all by yourself. But you have no choice. If you do not confront him yourself, you are afraid that your Jedi friends will be in danger.

Considering your history with Darth Mars, a small part of you still believes that you hold some kind of power over him. He is the one who taught you everything you know now about being a Jedi. He is the one who taught you how to fight, how to defend yourself and how to look after the ones you care about.

So, when he turned to the Dark Side, it was not only your heart that was broken, but also your trust. In him and in everything he stood for. He was the chosen one, for Force's sake...You have to admit, you miss him more than anything. You miss the man he used to be. You even miss your past self. The one who was not haunted by the consequences of his betrayal. The one who still had hopes for a better future for the Galaxy.

"Very foolish of you to come alone," Darth Mars, or should you say, Seonghwa, says, appearing from the shadows.

Bravely, you point the lightsaber at him.

"I taught you better than that," he scoffs.

"Have you?" you attempt to taunt him, because you know your fighting skills are nowhere near his supreme excellency. You can only use your mind and your tongue as a weapon.

"Did you come here to kill me?" Seonghwa chuckles lightly. "Go ahead, then. I don't intend to fight you, of all people."

"I have no intention of killing you."

"Pity. I was beginning to grow tired of it all. Even so, it wouldn't be in your style to kill me while I was defenseless. It wouldn't be honourable," Seonghwa spits the last word out as if it's dirty.

"What do you know about honour? You betrayed us, turning to the Dark Side. And for what? More power? What did you do that for? You left us, Hwa!"

"That's not my name," Seonghwa shakes his head in denial, still hiding beneath that mask. You feel so sad. You wish you could make him see...See how much he hurt you. See you.

You let go of your lightsaber, pulling his mask off.

Oh. His face is not like you remember. Filled with scars and burns and so much pain, as if reflecting the way he changed. Not just on the inside but on the outside, as well. No, you refuse to believe that. Some part of him is still your Seonghwa, the one you fell in love with. The one, that despite everything, you still love.

"Who did this to you?" you ask softly.

"Who do you think? My Master..."

"No, Chan would never...He loved you," you argue.

Chan is the Jedi who taught Seonghwa everything. Just like how Seonghwa taught you, the relationship between Master and Padawan is so special and sacred. But you cannot imagine that Chan would do something like that to Seonghwa.

"Fine, I did it to myself," Seonghwa shrugs. "We had a fight over our...differences. Things escalated and...well, let's just say a planet filled with lava is not a good place for exchanging blows."

You shake your head, still in desbelief. How could this go so far? How did you let it?

"Don't beat yourself up," Seonghwa grins darkly. "This would have happened with or without you."

"I never looked at Chan that way, you know? Not while I was with you, anyway."

"But you do now," Seonghwa states. Not really blaming you, just stating a fact.

"I do," you admit. "But I never stopped thinking about you."

"Not even after everything I did?" Seonghwa murmurs and is that...regret in his voice? You are unsure if he's still capable of that. Or any feeling for that matter.

"Not even then," you sigh.

"Why did you come here, Y/N?" Seonghwa needs to know.

"I came to beg you not to kill my Jedi friends. Leave Chan and the others alone. I would do anything you want. Just let them be."

"Would you stay with me?" Seonghwa tilts his head and in that moment, it's like you're back to when it all started. Deep down, he's still just a boy, desperate to be loved.

"I said anything, didn't I?" you insist. If this means never seeing your Jedi friends again, so be it. At least, they would be safe...Or that's how you delude yourself.

"Very well, then. I won't touch them provided that you don't go back on your word," Seonghwa promises.

You cannot believe it worked. You cannot believe he still cares about you enough to accept this. You never found out why he turned to the Dark Side. Seonghwa was never one to be blindly tempted by power. No, there must have been something else.

"If you wanted to be with me so badly, why did you betray us, then?" you can't go another second without knowing.

"What's the use in telling you?" Seonghwa replies sadly, turning away from you. No, no, he's shutting himself off again. Just as he was beginning to open up...

You grab his wrist as if possessed, forcing him to face you again.

"Please, tell me. I want to understand you," you plead with him.

"You died. You died in my arms and accepting the Sith way was the only way to bring you back to life. If there was another solution, I wouldn't have done this, I wouldn't have left."

"W-what?" you are shaking, not capable of accepting the truth. "I was d-dead?! How did I not know that? How did nobody know?"

"Chan knew," Seonghwa grunts angrily and puts on his mask again. "He insisted on hiding the truth from you. He was certain that if you found out, you'd follow me to the Dark Side...And he couldn't let that happen. Said you have too much potential as a Jedi."

No, no, this can't be right. Truths and lies become blurred in your head as you struggle to decide what to think. Who to trust? Seonghwa? Chan? Yourself? You cannot tell what is real and what is false anymore.

"You don't believe me," Seonghwa guesses correctly. "That's alright. You can ask Chan yourself," Seonghwa tilts his chin forward, as if pointing to something, someone behind you.

In that moment, a bunch of Stormtroopers lead Chan into the room.

"What should we do with this intruder, Lord Mars?" the Stormtroopers ask.

"Leave him here with my other prisoner. I shall question them myself," Seonghwa replies, appearing disinterested. Oh, so you're a prisoner now? Even though you voluntarily offered to stay with him provided that your Jedi friends are safe. You feel so foolish all of a sudden.

The Stormtroopers accept Seonghwa's orders rightaway, leaving the the three of you alone.

"I'll give you two a moment," Seonghwa shrugs carelessly, locking you in the same room with Chan.

For a brief second, you wonder if he did the wise thing. But then you remember, getting on his ship was easy. Getting out? Sounds like an impossible ordeal.

"Chan, what are you doing here?" you ask furiously.

"What does it look like?" Chan replies. "I'm here to rescue you."

"Yeah, and how is that working out for you?" you hiss bitterly. "Now, we're both stuck here instead of just me."

"Did you seriously think I'd let you face him alone?"

"I told you I can handle myself!" you argue passionately. "You always do this. You don't trust me, do you?"

"It's not you I don't trust, it's him around you," Chan cries out in pain.

"Well, I'm not sure I can trust you anymore," you confess.

Chan shrieks back, as if stricken by your words.

"Is it true that I died? Is it true that you knew I died and you kept it a secret from me?" you want to know.

"Listen, I don't know what lies Seonghwa told you but he would have turned to the Dark Side with or without you."

"Funny, I never mentioned that's the reason he went all Sith. You just confirmed it yourself."

Chan gulps nervously, realizing his own mistake.

"How could you, Chan?" you shake your head in disappointment. "I thought you'd never lie to me."

"I just wanted to protect you."

"Protect me?" your eyes widen in disbelief. "From what exactly? 'Cause it seems to me that Seonghwa was the one protecting me."

"And it was wrong! He committed all these terrible crimes just to bring you back. He turned on all his Jedi friends. He turned on me!"

"So, you're saying you'd rather I stayed dead? Is that it?"

"Don't twist my words," Chan closes his eyes, pained to have this conversation.

"You have done that yourself," you murmur, feeling tired all of a sudden and go to the door, knocking as loudly as you can. "I can't stay in the same room with the other prisoner!"

Expecting the Stormtroopers to show up and move you somewhere else, you are taken aback when Seonghwa...well, he's currently looking more Darth Mars, opens the door himself.

"And here I thought I was doing you two lovebirds a favour," he jokes.

"Get me out of here," you respond angrily.

"You're in no position to be giving me orders, sweetheart," Seonghwa chuckles gently. You want to kill him. Or kiss him. You don't know anymore. Everything is so confusing. It hurts so much...

"Get me out of here, please?" you try again, knowing it will infuriate Chan. Oh, how he wishes it was him you were begging. To run away with him suddenly sounds even more imprudent than staying with a Sith Lord.

"Much better," Seonghwa acquiesces, takes you by the arm and leads you somewhere else.

"You'll regret this," Chan warns.

"You'll regret me more," you whisper.

To your further shock, Seonghwa takes you to his chambers. You are uncertain whether he trusts you that much or he's simply confident enough that you won't be able to try anything funny. To be completely honest with yourself, even if you did try something, you would never be able to defeat Seonghwa by yourself. Then again, examples of Padawans beating their Masters are not unheard of...But you are definitely not ready for such a confrontation. Not yet, anyhow.

Not only did you learn that Seonghwa turned to the Dark Side in order to save your life, but you also just discovered that Chan kept that a secret from you. And if Chan knew, then there was a huge chance other Jedi also found out the truth. Chan was never good at keeping secrets from the Jedi. But he seems to be great at lying to you. Thus, everything you ever believed in is put into question. What is right or wrong? What is true or false? What is good or bad? These notions seem so ridiculous to you now that you have no clue what you intend to do next. You can only hope that Seonghwa's sacrifice wasn't in vain. You can only hope to live long enough to find answers for yourself.

"He told you the truth, didn't he?" Seonghwa makes yet another correct guess.

"I tricked him into it," you smirk, somewhat proud of yourself.

"That's my girl," Seonghwa nudges your shoulder playfully.

"What do I do now?" you burst into tears, burying your head in his chest. "Everything I believed in is in shambles. I don't even know if I wanna be a Jedi anymore."

"That's alright. You can always join me."

"Join the Dark Side?" you eye him suspiciously.

"Dark, Light...isn't it all the same?" Seonghwa tilts his head to the side. You hate it, but he has a point.

"Do I even have a choice? You said I'm your prisoner..."

"There's always a choice," Seonghwa insists. "And maybe I'm your prisoner. Did you ever think about that?"

You take off his mask again. He looks away, as if embarrassed.

"Don't hide from me," you beg, placing a hand on his scarred cheek, making him look at you.

"I know I'm not as pretty I used to be..."

"Well, then it's a good thing I didn't fall for your pretty. I like your ugly, too. Wish you could see yourself from my point of view," you insist and kiss him, trying to convey all the mixed up feelings you're experiencing.

Maybe he saved you. Maybe he destroyed himself in the process. Maybe he has the power to destroy you, too. You don't care. Right or wrong, this is where you belong now.

"What do you want me to do with Chan?" Seonghwa asks after a while.

"Are you seriously saying you'd do whatever I asked of you?" you are still shocked to learn how much power you have over him...He may have full control of the Force, but right now, you have full control of him.

"Within limits," Seonghwa replies vaguely.

"Let him live," you reply cleverly. Despite everything that went down, you still care about Chan. Just as how you care about Seonghwa. Your feelings might be irrational. But they're yours. "He might be useful to you one day. Who knows? He might learn to see things from where we stand."

"We? And where would that be?"

"Like you said, Dark, Light...What difference does it make?" you smile at him.

"Hm. I knew you'd get it," Seonghwa embraces you, thinking you're joining his so-called Dark Side.

But there is no such thing. You're on your own side now. And after being lied to and betrayed to by those you considered your closest people, you realize the most important thing. In this Galaxy, you can only trust yourself.

And one day, just like how Seonghwa became stronger than his Master Chan, you are certain you will become stronger than Seonghwa. They both underestimate your power.

It will be their final mistake.

The End

[violetsquare111]

IT IS DONE!! lil comic page for saisk @alan-in-the-outernet 's figment noogai ava au! you should check out their blog NOW they've got so many cool aus including this one that live in my brain forever. this was a LOT of fun to make and i hope i can share the figment brainrot with more people yayyyy

(today i offer you content exclusively for myself and 4 other people. tomorrow? content exclusively for myself and 4 other people)

summary of the au under the cut because this probably won't make sense if you aren't familiar

so the idea of the au is that victim finds alan's destroyed computer after ava3 and assumes he's dead. they can't deal with the end goal of their life, the target of all their hatred, suddenly being gone, and so being dreaming about and eventually hallucinating an imagined version of him ("noogai"/"figment")

over time (quite a long time) figment shifts away from the 'noogai' role and into more of, like, "constant imaginary frenemy" mixed with "your subconscious that says everything you'd rather hide from yourself, including the fact that you do want to be better than this"

so IDEALLY vic can move on, grow, and let figment go. but what if they get desperate and lonely and attached enough to make figment real with rocket tech? well let's say figment is NOT having a fun time experiencing Everything At Once Suddenly and victim is quite disappointed in this outcome

that's the gist of what leads up to the comic! figment just... having to exist now, despite the very foundation of its "self" being the fact it isn't real... remembering things from its perspective in the past but knowing those memories never actually happened because it didn't exist... figuring out who to even be as a person, now that it is a person at all, and victim refusing to let it do that because it has been the only constant presence in vic's life for years and is now trying to change... these guys make me so mentally illllll

(not pictured in comic: vic losing their SHIT at figment's comparison)

again CHECK OUT SAISK'S BLOG THEY WRITE/DRAW A LOT OF COOL THINGS (including all the stuff i just summarized, created with some input of askers over there! i just drew the funny arts!!)

yeah this was really a blast to work on (even if also a pain sometimes) over the last 1-2 weeks and i got to practice a lot of things i haven't done in a long time. very happy i was able to finish this :D

[casteliacityramen]

[Previous] [PART 2 OF 2]

“I flew around a bit." 

"I overheard some talks about an open gala in Sinnoh and I decided to attend it. I’ll tell you the whole story about what happened later, but...

... Even when I was trying to relax, I couldn't feel comfortable with myself. Like… like wearing clothes that didn’t fit. The longer the night went on, nothing felt right. And I’m not just talking about the disguise.”

“You felt like a caricature of who you used to be.”

“Yeah. I knew I was going to feel awful when the Continental War was done and over with. I knew we were going to be reprimanded, or worse, but…” Rio frowns deeply, trying to gather her tangled thoughts together.

“I didn't think it'd mess me up as bad as this. I didn’t recognize who I was by the end of the night. I’m worried there’s no going back to who I used to be. I miss the version of myself who could go to a gala and not be miserable in the corner. It feels like that part of me died--that optimistic part of me."

“Do you get what I’m talking about?”

Rio waits with bated breath, only for Ray to curtly answer:

"Yes. And no?"

Rio feels her temper quickly flare up as she lets out a frustrated huff, "Whaddya mean by that?"

Ray raises his palms towards her, slowly.

"It's not that I don't understand what you're saying,” Ray turns to her and gives her a faint smile, "I like to think my experiences are changing me for the better. That’s where you and I differ."

“What, that you’re becoming less of who you used to be and more of… whatever this is?”

"A sub-par noodle penchant?" Ray laughed, throwing Rio's words right back at her from earlier that day.

"You know what I mean, Ray," Rio feels her face get hot. "It's as if..."

"... It's as if you're undoing yourself to make up for what you've done," Rio whispers out loud. The sudden conclusion steals her breath. "Ray, you're not doing all this to punish yourself, are you?"

"..."

"Please say no.”

"It may have started out that way, but that's not the case now."

“Ray…” Rio whispered in disbelief, out loud. 

“You may see this as me continuing a dead man’s legacy. But it’s more than that. This place was a gifted to me and came with a wish. I intend to honor that gesture.

Even though we can’t do any of our usual duties, that’s no excuse to stop acting like a shepherd.”

“If your version of helping the commonwealth is to further seat yourself into guilt, I can’t let you follow through with this.”

“You’re still not getting it, It’s not like that."

"Are you sure about that? Because it's all starting to sound like you're doing this as some sort of messed up way of repenting for your sins."

"I'm telling you, it's not like that."

“Ray, there's a moment when memorialization for someone else turns into hurting yourself." 

"Like how you visited your own gravestone in Johto? Do you really see all of your soldiers offering gifts in your memory and call that self harm? Didn't you just say that you're grieving over someone who you used to be? Is it really that wrong? To cling to what's left!?"

"For me, it is."

"We aren't mortal, Ray. This entire conversation we're having? This argument? All of it? This is what happens when we can't move on. We drag everything with us for hundreds, maybe thousands of years whether we like it or not. This is only going to bring you pain in the long run.

I’m sorry I blew up at you earlier today, but I still stand by what I said. You have no right to continue Tai Ishikawa's legacy, even if all of this was a gift.

All of this? Hanging around Ingram's descendants, Ayumi and Jack? Working an ungodly amount of hours for a tiny bit of yen? The past guilt alone will eat you alive."

"I'm aware of what happens to me if I stew in it. I've been here five years longer than you have,” Ray mutters. “Besides, do you think that I don't know how to live with all the pain I've gathered? Do you really think that guilt alone has made me stick it out this far?”

Of course not. But... she can't simply admit that.

She’s seen him on good days, bad days, and worse days. She's seen him scraping by with little money to his name but continuing to honestly run the business with a straight back and taut shoulders.

She shakes her head, unsure of herself. After all, she's borrowing words that Ray used to tell her in the past. She's not used to being on this side of the argument, which begs the question: are they destined to swap places again somewhere, sometime down the future?

"I've seen what guilt does to you, Ray. I sure as shit know what it's doing to me," Rio shakes her head, sighing. "I don't think this is only guilt... But there's more of it than I want to see. I don't need any more reasons to lose sleep at night if I can keep you from hurting yourself."

“Then…

... Are you willing to stop me? Stop all of this if I fly past that line?"

"You're already dangerously close. Some would say that you're already past the line of hurting yourself."

"I'm not."

Rio was hoping for any sense of weakness, any stumble over words, fumble in his convictions, but Ray continued to stare at her. Rio was the first to look away.

"All of this… It helped you?”

"It has. I’d love to have you here."

"Okay."

--

The two sit in comfortable silence. As the sun fades, so too, does the tension between them. With no further words to be exchanged, the rest of the decanter behind the counter is emptied out.

Ray makes a disgusted face with every sip. One of the unfortunate effects of their blessings is the rapid processing of whatever toxins enter their body, like alcohol. If they wanted to get remotely buzzed, they had to drink the stuff that was barely safe for consumption.

Which reminds her...

“I thought I’d get you this as a peace offering.”

“What is this?”

“Got it from the gala I talked about earlier. Wine from out of this dimension. Just like the guests."

“What?”

“Later. But guess what? I actually got drunk.”

“Bullshit. Why'd you make me drink the rest of that decanter? Pour me some.”

“You’re the one with the hands, you pour us some.”

Before Ray could reach behind the counter to grab the glasses once more, they are interrupted by the sound of a squeaky stool and a pained, muffled grunt at the end of the stand.

Jack sits in the seat farthest from them, his eyes never meeting theirs. His mouth opens, but it takes a long time for him to slowly form the words. He shrinks as he whispers:

“I don’t know where else to go.”

It's about time they get ready to open back up, anyway.

[Pinned Post]

[autistichalsin]

"What is it like to be so uncaring? I wish I could spend a day being as unempathetic as them. (Unspoken: What's the point of having empathy anymore?")

This is a sentiment that I've seen so many others express, and myself have kinda had to work through too, in the past 24 hours.

And it's a damn good question, isn't it? The people who care for no one but themselves- and worse, who actively want to hurt others not like them- won. They got everything they wanted. Meanwhile, good, kind people lost, and are now being mocked. "Triggered, liberals?"

So what's the point, then? Why should we care anymore?

It's one of those questions where you really have to be your own guide with that. We live in a world that punishes kindness and tries its best to beat it out of people, and sometimes it's tiring to do so.

But I answered that question myself and maybe my answer will help some of you.

In a world like ours, kindness is an act of defiance. Becoming cruel/callous/selfish feeds in to the reality they peddled to steal American democracy for good. By being kind, you remind them that not everyone is like them. And believe me, under their taunting, under their cries of "own the libs", this unsettles them. Kindness is an act of resistance. Love is an act of resistance. You are telling them that they will never change who you fundamentally are, they won't take away the things that make you better than them. And there is nothing evil people hate more than reminders that not everyone is evil!!! Do you remember that scene from The Dark Knight where the Joker had a group of prisoners and ordinary citizens on two ferries with bombs to blow up the other's ship, expecting them to hit the button- but no one did, because they wouldn't take the others' lives? And how utterly baffled he was? Your continued compassion enrages fascists.

You are gaining so much more from remaining kind and empathetic than you can understand. Yes, the ones who lack it won and will get to abuse people, but they lack human connection, and most of theirs are shallow. Alpha male types don't enjoy close friendships; Matt Walsh himself said he never had a friend say he loved him, Tucker Carlson's mom hated him so much that she left him $1 in her will, and Donald Trump's wives only ever married him for his power and status. The few connections they have lack depth and care and genuineness. Sure, they have families, sometimes, who love/care for them. But it is a very different kind of love because it is conditional. That's the only kind of love they know. "Be like me, espouse my values, and then I will love you." They disown their queer children, they fear their wives being independent or their husbands being 'soft.' The instant they become "wrong" in some way, they'll be discarded. You, in seeking relationships with people who genuinely love you for you- and offering that in turn- are never going to know that terror.

You deserve to be loved. You deserve to get to continue to feel the full range of human emotion, which does and should include compassion and empathy and love. You don't deserve to have to give that up just to survive this dystopian hellscape. You deserve better and if this country has failed too much to give you better, you should still at least hold on to what scraps of better you can find.

Things are about to get worse in nearly every aspect; financially, socially, geopolitically, I could go on. Staying your authentic self- loving and compassionate- is one of the only ways you are going to be able to survive what's coming, because you'll need support, and so will those around you.

Not going to numb to what's happening is the literal only way we can fix this. And I'm going to be blunt here, no fix is coming in our lifetimes. We're going to try and salvage something in the future we aren't ever going to see here. But that makes retaining your fundamental kindness even more important, because when there's nothing in it for you, the only way to keep going is to retain a love of humanity, no matter what flaws it has, because otherwise you'll get discouraged and give up. We won't get out of this, even in a few generations, without radical acts of altruism for people who are going to live here after us. They deserve your help even if they're not here yet. They NEED you.

Don't let this change who you are. Who you are is good. Who you are is perfect. You're a normal person in an utterly insane world, and this insane world won't become sane again without people like you.

[screams-in-writing]

When I hammer out another long one shot to an ask with a prompt:

I wrote this is in 1st pov, because I unabashedly enjoying writing Mr. Puzzles in this pov.

-

This was a disaster in the making.

I knew I shouldn’t have agreed to have you visit my home with me.

It only allowed let you to get close to Smg4 and his crew of miscreants!

You were even having fun with them!

Which I wanted you to, yes, and I loved the way you looked while having fun but…you were having fun without me!

Me!

I knew it was an eventuality that you’d meet Smg4 and the others in person, but I wasn’t prepared for all the dark thoughts and a tightening in my chest as I hung back and watched from a distance.

Jealousy?

Perhaps.

But wasn’t I allowed to feel that, when my only actual friend, someone who’d become more to me in such little time, was taken away from me, practically the instant you and I came to my home world?

Wasn’t I allowed to feel sucker-punched over the way you so quickly got along with so many of Smg4’s friends?

It didn’t seem fair.

Then again, you’d never caused them any psychological or physical harm, so of course Smg4 and everyone else didn’t seem to mind your presence.

But they certainly minded mine, if the mistrustful stares and accusing glares were anything to go by.

Because of this, I kept myself on the sidelines and just watched as you interacted as easily as I couldn’t after all I’d done with my past actions.

Apologies would only get me so far, and I doubted that Smg4 and many of his friends would be interested in forgiving me of my actions any time soon, if at all.

I was under no illusion that, were I to do anything that might be seen as aggressive, I’d be seen out of the showgrounds in an unflattering and likely embarrassing manner, no matter what you might say in my defense.

But I knew better now.

I knew that much of my previous interactions weren’t acceptable, while I was in your world, and was able to reflect on my actions and what I wanted to do going forward.

Here, I was very well aware that I had my work cut out for me.

When you went into the castle, I couldn’t help but want to follow, but remained outside.

I’d gotten the very clear message that I was I only being tolerated in the showgrounds for your sake. Though there was clearly distrust in that many didn’t believe I could ever have a real friend, let alone have an actual relationship.

Let them believe what they would.

I was more interested in your opinion than Smg4 or the others.

But therein lie one of my concerns.

What if your opinion of me changed if you spent too much time in the castle, talking to everyone else but me?

Despite me confessing to what I’d done, both behind the scenes as well as directly, I still held the low-burning fear that you might decide that the trauma that lingered with Smg4 and his friends might not be something you were willing to let slide after all, so long as I made an effort to make up for it, and apologize in my own time.

The longer I stood in front of the castle, the more I began to fidget nervously.

Would you stand up for me if I were to enter the castle uninvited?

I began to pace, the fidgeting and mumbling growing louder as static began to grow and layer over my voice when I spoke audible words.

Soon, I could simply no longer bear to wait out here for your return, so it was with a determined straightening of my posture, and squared shoulders, that I walked confidently to the front doors of the castle, and let myself in.

When I wasn’t immediately punched in my face, my confidence grew that I would be able to mask my presence, and be able to locate you.

Just to make sure you were all right, of course. 

One could never be too certain with that pesky plumber about.

Much to my pleasant surprise, it was so easy to find you, as you just so happened to exit one of the rooms.

By yourself.

A happy bounce entered my steps as I approached you, face flashing to a cheery technicolor smile and excited digital eyes. 

Oh, I couldn’t believe just how much I missed you just these past few hours. 

I was even happier when you smiled at me in return, even raising a hand to give me a little wave. I closed the distance between us, eagerly hoping that this meant that I could now spend time with you.

“Finally decided to come into the castle?” You asked, a slight reading tone to your voice.

“I don’t believe I’m exactly welcome here.” I replied with a soft sigh, reaching out to take the hand you offered to me. I pet the back of your hand with my fingers pensively.

“I do think that Smg4 is wary around you, but I can’t really say for sure about everyone else.” You move closer to give me a half hug with the arm that wasn’t having its hand gripped firmly.  “I haven’t exactly gotten to spend time with them before, apart from asking them about their…past interactions with you. So I’m just starting to get a feeling about who they actually are.”

I listened to you.

I really attempted to listen to you when you began to detail the things you’d noted in the past few hours, but all I could think was that I was slowly losing my time with you.

I needed to do something. 

I wanted you to pay attention to me.

I didn’t want to share you with the others if that meant that I would be spending less time with you, and therefore have attention from you. 

It was petty, childish, to think such things. 

You weren’t a toy to be stolen, and I knew that I had to respect that you wouldn’t spend all of your free time with me, as much as I loved having your undivided attention.

But I just couldn’t help myself. 

I needed some way to reassure myself that I wasn’t somehow losing you when you visited my home world going forward.

When you took a breath to continue on, and I saw that no one was in the area, I was quick to make my move. 

Using the hand around yours, I tugged you closer to my body, and in the same motion, hoisted you up and into my arms to lean into my chest. I chuckled when you ended up wrapping your arms around my neck with a gasp of surprise. 

Perfect.

And now, for somewhere to have a quick little heart to heart, before I ‘bottled’ things up and let the negativity in my mind get to me.

The closet.

Not the best place for a serious conversation, but it was a convenient place to lavish you my own undivided attention. 

“Mr. Puzzles, where are you-“ 

I hugged you closer to me, my television head crackling with static but unable to respond as I swiftly walked over to the door, and let myself into the closet. 

And locked it, the cramped dark room only lit by my screen, as I sat you down on a small desk in the corner of the closet.

I found myself unable to speak when you looked up at me, clearly exasperated with what I had just done, yet interested in what I had planned.

Leaning in closer, I braced my hands on either side of you, and rested my upper screen to your forehead as I just looked at you, my expression surely softening as you looked at me in return, with a bit of a squint from the light. 

Toning it down so you could look at me properly, my hands slid to press into either side of your hips. I pinioned you legs between mine as I boxed you in, curiously tilting my head to see if this was all right.

My answer was hands rising to either side of my metal head, and you turning your head to leave a lingering kiss to my screen.

Eagerly, I returned the kiss with a gentle spark of fuzz from my screen. 

When your arms went around the back of my wired neck, I growled low in my throat, the area of the spine still there with vocals, as well as my speakers. I hunched over you and slowly moved my screen to lay a series of kisses from your lips to either of your cheeks, and then slowly down the side of your neck. Just to tease you, I gathered enough static and concentration to layer the fuzz of my screen enough to make it feel like I ‘licked’ a stripe along the side of your throat.

“What’s wrong?” You asked me, a little breathlessly, as your fingers lightly dig into my wires. 

“Nothing.” I said a little too quickly.

“Puzzles.” You sighed into another quick kiss, before you let go of my neck to push me away enough to stare at my face. “You don’t usually do these unprompted make-out sessions unless something is wrong.” A pause. “You also wouldn’t normally want to do this unless there was no way someone would come to interrupt us.”

“They won’t.” I said. 

“We are in a castle that’s full of people. One of them is bound to notice I’m not back yet, and someone is likely to realize that you’re not outside anymore.” You pointed out, dropping your hands to press down into my one to prevent them from shifting to your thighs. “Please tell me?”

“I-“ Looking away, my shoulders slumping, I look back to you, with an admission. “I don’t want them to take all of your time away from me.”

“I’m not replacing you with them or anything, Puzzles.” You said after a moment, expression showing that you realized what exactly I feared without me even knowing that was what it was, in the end.

Being replaced.

Moving on.

Leaving me behind 

Alone.

I didn’t want to be alone.

“You won’t be alone.” You said, voice softening. 

I hadn’t meant to say that aloud. I didn’t like to admit that an old fear of mine was coloring my interactions with others, even after so many years had passed. 

“We can spend time together alone when you come to my home again. We could even hang out later today, here.” You tell me. “It would be kind of rude of me to be invited to hang out with smg4 and everyone but then not do that for at least a little while longer.” You sounded so reasonable.

And yet. 

And yet-

“I think several hours seemed to be enough time with them all.” I said immediately, desperately attempting to keep the bitterness out of my voice. I wasn’t jealous. I was jealous. “Why can’t you spent time with me right now? We’re already out of sight.”

“You’re doing it again, Puzzles.” You said in a firm tone, implying that I ought to pay very close attention to your words. 

I already was, because you were with me.

“The possessiveness over me and my time with you can’t go out of control like before. Remember? I can’t spent all of my free time with you every single day. We both need space for ourselves, and we need to be able to meet up and hang out with other people. Please don’t make me have to make those boundaries clear again by having us have to spend time apart for us both to cool off.”

I’m so torn.

“I know that.”

I don’t want to give up the extra time I had to spend in your company and yet-

“I know it is wrong of me to want to take up more of your time. To want to have all of your attention on me, and me alone.”

I was afraid. 

“I just don’t want to lose you.”

Afraid to be left behind.

“I…must admit that I do find it difficult to accept you interacting with my former adversaries, even if I was at fault for making them adversaries to me with…with my own actions. My plans.”

To be alone.

“I can’t…I can’t let that happen.” I found it harder to form words as I dissolved into the start of a panic. That perhaps I was overreacting to you hanging with Smg4 and his friends.

“Mr. Puzzles.” You cut in before the doubt could fully sink in. “Take a moment to breathe.”

I let out a hitch of an unsteady laugh.

“I know that you don’t actually need to breathe like I do but please take a moment and take some slow breaths?” You asked while I continued to let out unsteady breaths and little hitches of not so sane laughter. “I know you’re having trouble right now, so take some slow breaths, for me?”

That helped draw my attention back, enough that I freed one of my hands to rest on your thigh, while my other cupped one of your cheeks to trace my fingertips lightly along. 

A breath.

Another. 

I leaned my head to the side so that o could rest it lightly on your shoulder to do as you asked. 

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Slow.

Breathe. 

I ‘closed’ my eyes, focusing on slowing my breathing down to acceptable levels while I felt you begin to curiously pet me along the back of my shoulders. 

I let out a final noise of frustration, but breathed it out soon after while my breaths leveled out with facsimile huffs of breath in and out.

Once my breathing finally went back to normal, if one could call it that with someone who didn’t actually need that breath, I finally began to calm down.

Slowly, I lifted my metal head up, and leaned back so that I could gaze down at you. At the same time, you lifted one hand to rest over mine cradling the side of your face. I issued out a rather interested hum when your other hand moved to lightly grasp the fabric of vest and shirt just beneath my bow tie to give it a little yank as you met my digital eyes.

“Oh? What’s this?” I instantly gained a leer as I made as if I were biting my ‘lips’ with technicolor teeth, fixing you with a hooded look. “I thought you said that you ought to be handing out with those losers in the other room?”

“You’ve calmed down.” You pointed out while tugging the fabric again. “Do you feel a little more steady now?”

I gave it the thought it deserved from the concerned furrow in your brow. Then, I gave my metal head a tiny jerk of agreement. “Better, yes.” I issued out a moment later.

“Good.” 

You surprised me when you moved your hand from mine over your cheek, using it and the one fisted in my clothing to yank me closer to the desk. 

I leaned further in without further prompting as you planted a kiss that was much more heated than the one before. A kiss that lingered on my screen as I froze up briefly in surprise. 

“You can enjoy about five minutes of my presence before I go back and join the others” You said when you took a breath.

I couldn’t help it when my expression shifted to an unhinged one before it quickly flickered to heart eyes with a heart rate monitor. 

And a flush my technicolor grin widened and curved up in a stupidly happy manner.

Then, your words sank in and I shifted ever closer to you, as I uttered in a low tone that ended on a slight growl. “Oh, my dear, five minutes in a dark closet all alone with me, and I’ll be able to convince you to not leave me for the other’s company.”

Most unfortunately, I was unable to follow through with my promise. 

As it turned out, my luck had run out when it came to a certain Italian ruining my plans. 

The door to the closet bust open despite being locked. 

“Hello?” Mario peered inside curiously. “What’s-a going on here?”

I froze, as did you.

Even Mario went silent as he presumably took in the scene he’d walked in on.

Me, bracketing you in against a wall of the closet.

You, sitting on the desk in front of me.

I was currently leaned over you, crowding in to press into you, one hand lightly gripping your thigh while my other carefully cradled you behind your head, so you didn’t hit the wall and hurt yourself. 

Right before Mario had so rudely kicked the door in, I’d been eagerly  kissing you in return as best I could with little lingering static zaps. 

But the moment I processed Mario was there, interrupting me?

My metal head snapped to the side in a distressing angle on my wire neck. I fixed the plumber with an expression of upmost loathing that went ignored, much to my mounting exasperation.

“Ooooo.” Mario let out, as his face shifted from confusion to one of sly amusement. A smile beneath that damned mustache of his began to grow bigger by the moment. “Somebody’s-a being hands-on.”

I wondered, at times, just how stupid Mario truly was, or if he was acting like an idiot to not disrupt the status quo. In this very moment, I didn’t particularly care to pursue the thought, because I was much more concerned and irritated by the interruption than the comment.

Mario’s smile became a smirk as he suddenly lifted a phone, and, before I could move, or you could even say anything, the flash of the camera flared brightly in the dark closet, backlit by the light of the castle behind Mario himself. Humming his theme song, Mario pocketed his phone nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just taken a rather compromising photo of you and myself in a closet together. 

A photo…

I abruptly let go of you as Mario’s actions quickly sank in. I lunged for Mario without a word; just a furious expression and a warning static growl of wordless fury for Mario daring to intrude on alone time with you.

Unfortunately, so caught up in catching the culprit, I failed to notice you flail your arms and wince as you dropped backward into the wall.

Mario was wise enough to keep well out my grasping range. I continued to laser focus on attempting to catch the shorter man anyway. But because of this, I again failed to notice the way you emerged from the closet with a flushed face and the way you made a beeline right for me. 

I didn’t notice, until you finished sneaking up behind me and then yanked me backward by where my suspender straps met at the middle of my back. Futilely, I attempted to twist my head to one side then the other as you proceeded to walk, forcing me to follow or risk falling over and being dragged along the floor. My dignity wouldn’t allow that, so follow you I did.

“Bye-bye.” Mario said unnecessarily, waving. 

I was torn about easily slipping out of your hold to go continue to pursue that irritating Italian. But I relented and just matched your steps with my own, at least until I realized with a jolt that you had come to a halt outside of the room you’d emerged from earlier. 

“I don’t. I.  This likely isn’t the.” I stood in place, resisting your tugs for a moment as I attempted to explain why me in a room with Smh4 and all his friends want a good idea. But I couldn’t bring myself to tell you no when you opened the door, let go of my suspenders, and grasped one of my hands tightly instead. 

You might have given my shaking hand a reassuring squeeze.

But I was much too caught up over the reception I may receive. 

Keeping my gaze, and in turn my screen, on the floor meant that I didn’t have to focus on Smg4 and his crew’s initial reaction to me entering the room.

I kept quiet as you led me over to the couch and, remaining mute in the face of your expression between disappointment and pleading, sat down. I was pleasantly surprised when you end up on my lap, but not so happy that you won’t allow me to wrap my arms around you to hold you closer. Restlessly, I  grasped the couch cushion on either side of my legs, because as much as I’d like to hold you, I’d rather you stay near me instead. 

It appeared that this was done on purpose, as if this were your way of letting Smg4 and the others in the room know that you did want me around. 

That was how I chose to interpret it as. 

Mario reentered the room, going over to where Smg4 and 3 are, as well as Meggy and Tari, who were competing on some game. Mario glanced to you and I, then, in a loud whisper and a mischievous grin and in a loud whisper. “TV man is-a whipped, yes?”

“Yeah.” Smg4 agreed, without even having to look. “That tracks, with no one getting sucked into another Puzzlevision show lately.” 

“‘course he is.” Smg3 concurred. “It’s obvious.”

I twitched as if to get up to correct them, only for you to suddenly flop back into me. I was completely sidetracked as you comfortably rested yourself against my chest and shoulder, and even dragged one of my arms up to grasp my hand with one of yours. I gripped couch cushion harder with my other hand when you began to lightly pet me with your free head along the side of his metal head, lingering on the vent area.

“Totally whipped.”

“Yup.”

“Mmhm.”

A light scritch under my head’s casing had me  sagging forward into your touch, a soft sound into the touch. My digital eyes closed so that I could pretend, for a short time, that it was only you in this room with me.

I could handle the jabs at me, so long as you kept lightly tracing the outside of my metal tv head so gently.

And while I’d honestly rather just be all alone with you, this day turned out to not be as bad as I expected it to be, especially when no one demanded I get out, and I got to spend time with you, even in questionable company.

[xtarmanderx]

I don’t ever post things like this here because this is primarily my writing side blog, but it feels too important not to say something.

I started writing 9-1-1 fics for the Buddie fandom and for a friend who was near and dear to me. I quickly left the fandom because of the mods for an event that I was participating in and how awful they were to one of my best friends that joined the event with me. That completely killed my desire to interact with the Buddie fandom at all and I don’t know if I will ever finish posting the fic that I poured my heart into for said event. Because that fic is fully done, but those encounters with those fans made me never want to write Buddie again.

And then Tommy Kinard came along.

And holy fuck, I fell in love with him so fast. I immediately rewatched the show after he reappeared in season 7 because I was so fascinated with his character. And then I fell in love with Lou Ferrigno Jr. and began watching S.W.A.T. just to get glimpses of him and I grew to love that show and its characters, too. And I read his interviews and saw how happy he was to be back on the show and it made me happy, too.

Then I saw all the hate and negativity.

It filled me with so much anger and I blocked so many people across so many different forms of social media so I no longer had to see it. All I wanted was to surround myself with positivity.

Because I’ve been that bitch.

There are people no longer in certain fandoms because of me and I’ll never be able to apologize enough for the ways that I hurt them. Sorry will never be enough to mend those bridges that I poured kerosene on.

It’s why I’ve stayed in my corner and all of my fic comments have been generic, which isn’t who I used to be. I used to engage and leave long comments, but honestly I’ve been terrified to try and join any new community. Because I am fucking terrified of reverting back to the person I never want to be again.

My best friend started watching the show again after I went to his house for dinner and had him watch the BuckTommy kiss episode with me. The last five minutes of that episode, I told him to put his phone down and pay full attention and he was completely engaged and was so happy to see another queer couple onscreen. It gave us something else to bond over every week as we would watch and text about what was happening.

Tonight’s text:

This coming from a gay man who does not engage in fandom spaces at all and who felt blindsided, too. Like so many of us did.

I immediately started writing a fix it fic because that’s who I am. I want to write the endings I want to see. And then I stopped writing and sent Lou a message directly because I needed to get something off my chest.

I was raised in a broken home. Raised by racists who belittled me endlessly and have told me within the last couple of years that I am their least favorite child. I am the youngest of 6. That shit was heartbreaking. It’s a wound that will never heal. But why am I bringing it up? Why does that matter?

Because I saw myself in Tommy. I saw a character who represented the worst parts of my youth, who spouted hateful things my parents taught me to say and then spent years having to unlearn those things. Lou talked about his own ideas about Tommy’s past and it struck so close to home for me. Because Tommy showed he was capable of change. And I did, too. It took therapy and years of reflection and being hyperaware now of the shit I say and having to constantly stay on top of my own thoughts and correct them.

I have been dating a woman of color for the last 9.5 years and she’s the love of my life. She has been there through every stumble and stayed even when my passive aggressive inclinations got the better of me. And I saw so much of myself reflected in Tommy Kinard’s character and Lou’s portrayal of him and saw our relationship in Buck and Tommy, too.

Tonight hit me so much harder than expected. And this probably seems like a jumbled mess of thoughts, which it is, but I needed to get some things off my chest and out into the world.

This is not the week that so many of us were expecting. This hurt. We’re allowed to be upset and need time to process. I sure as hell do.

But I do want to say a heartfelt thank you to anyone who has brought joy and friendship to this fandom. The fics that have been written are amazing and the art has been fantastic. I’ve seen some people make lifelong friends in the past few months thanks to this. It sure as hell strengthened some of mine.

So, if you need a friend right now, know that I’m here. I’ve been subdued for a while, but I refuse to lose out on more joy in my life. Not when we all desperately need it. So I’m here for you.

And please remember to be kind. Don’t let anyone take that superpower away from you.

[darling-heffron]

Hello all, and welcome to the first chapter of Momento Mori!! I hope you are all excited for this new AU, I know Sol☀️ and I are very excited to be sharing this with you all. We will be posting chapters weekly and hopefully we will be able to keep on top of the workload ahaha. We will update you if this does change.

Also an overall disclaimer that this story will involve violence, gore, swearing, abuse, SA, death, non-con, family trauma, parental abuse, dead dove: do not eat, just a lot of bad things, please inform us if we have missed anything and we will add it. (We will not be adding this to every chapter, only if we think one needs some extra disclaimers, or if it going to be very bad, we will let you know. We will have a full disclaimer list on the masterlist when it gets posted.)

Also also, this work is purely fictional, based on the HBO show and the actors who portray the characters and no hate to the men who served in WW2.

Taglist: please let us know if you want to be added!

Chapter One: The Plan

“Do you hear me, soldier?” The Lieutenant bent forward as he screamed in Sam’s face, as if she couldn’t hear him. 

She tried her best to not recoil from him as his salvia landed on her cheek. Sam wondered what her father would say this time, another infringement in just one week. Surely, he would have some choice words for her, when doesn’t he? 

Sam couldn’t believe she spent her whole life trying to please that sorry excuse for a man. God, everything she had ever done had been for him. 

The tall woman thought she was finally earning the praise she so desired when he suggested she join the army. All for it to be about him and not her. God, how could she have been so foolish, constantly trying to please that man. 

Well now she had woken up, and Sam was angry. The blonde woman would not beg anymore, she was better than that. She would not let him treat her like she was gum on the bottom of his shoe. 

“Don’t make me repeat myself!” Lieutenant Jones boomed. 

“Yes, sir.” Sam yelled back, looking past the man. 

“The General will be hearing about this, Jackson.” She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. 

“Get your pack and get your ass moving, Jackson. I don’t want to see you back here until you are throwing up all over your boots!” Sam bit her tongue to keep from spitting back a retort, things were going to plan so far, she didn’t need her temper getting the best of her now.   

“Yes, sir!” Sam yelled, turning to grab her gear, hauling the heavy pack onto her back and slinging the gun over her shoulder. 

The girl moved quickly out of the barracks into the open expanse of ground that the base covered. She ran down the road into the open field, heading towards the woods at the furthest end of the territory. She couldn’t help the smirk that pulled to her lips. 

Everything was falling perfectly into place. 

Sam’s punishment had purpose, she had intentionally been sloppy all day; her bed wasn’t made, her uniform incorrect, she spoke back brazenly to her superiors, it all had snowballed to this moment. 

The blonde needed the punishment to be bad enough to get a full pack run, but it was harder than she thought. Sam had tried earlier in the week, but falling from the top of the class to the bottom was hard. She had made a name for herself for being the best of the best and so the officers turned a blind eye to her misdoings, thinking she was just having an off day. 

But when she kept up the behaviour for the second week, the officers started to notice. Sam noted that was the first time she had ever been yelled at like that by an officer. 

It wasn’t her first time being scolded, Sam’s father didn’t join the military for nothing. She had only ever known him as a cold strict man, she had never seen him smile once, not for her anyway. 

Sam didn’t see her father often though, Robert was a busy man and didn’t make time for his daughter.  

Isolated from a young age, Sam often was alone. Her own mother didn’t even make time for her, all Sam was to them was an accessory. She could count the times on one hand the amount of instances they were all together as a family. 

After her mother and father divorced, most families would fight over taking custody of their child, for Sam, she was forgotten about entirely.

Samantha’s legs moved faster carrying her towards the back fence, she checked her watch 1300hrs on the dot. She made it to the fence, slinging her pack off her back and sliding it through the cut hole at the bottom, she pushed it through to the other slide, following after it on her belly. 

She got to her feet brushing the dust from her clothes and bag before putting it on her back again. The girl needed to move away from the compound before she was spotted by one of the patrolling guards. 

If she had timed it right no one would realise she had disappeared, the next guard wasn’t due until 1330 and her Lieutenant wouldn’t be expecting her back for another hour. 

Woods surrounded the base, the dense brush hiding the whole facility. Sam slipped further into the bush, making her way towards the only main road close to the base. 

Before emerging from the bushes she redressed into more casual clothes, she didn’t need her whole attire to scream, ‘Hey look over here, I’ve just deserted and I’m running away!’

Sam stood on the side of the road, scanning up and down for one lone car. 

“Jesus Christ, what’s taking him so long?” Sam muttered to herself checking her watch for the millionth time. He was supposed to be here 15 minutes ago, if he wasn’t here soon she would have to move to plan B, and plan B was not her favourite. 

Sam sighed, her foot tapping impatiently on the tarmac. Screeching tires pulled her gaze down the street again. 

“Finally!” She said exasperatedly.

The girl watched the car zig-zag down the road. The man who was coming to pick up some army goods she had stolen for him was now careening down the street towards her. 

Why she used Craigslist she didn’t know but she was desperate for money and he seemed to be the only buyer interested in her items she had put up for sale, and he was offering her top dollar for it. 

Sam needed enough money to get her out of state and at least a few meals, then she was going to change her name and start a new life, one where she wasn’t tied to her horrible family or past. 

But now this guy was swerving all over the road, Sam watched the car speed from one side to the other. Everytime the car looked like it was just about to fly off the side of the street it swerved back onto the other side again. 

“Fucking hell, what is this crazy motherfucker doing?” Sam shook her head. The car never slowed as it came closer to her, in fact it seemed as if it was speeding up the nearer it got. 

“Hey, slow down!” She called, not thinking it would actually do anything, he couldn’t hear her yells from outside the vehicle. The car was heading towards her now, full speed, not looking like it was about to stop. 

“Fuck!” Sam screamed, leaping out of the path of the oncoming vehicle. 

She watched the events play in slow motion, the car screeched past her ploughing through the exact spot she stood only moments before. Sam crashed to the ground, her eyes never leaving the car as it sped past her. 

The blonde lay on the grass panting as the car smashed into the line of trees that bordered the road. Sam winced watching the collision, the whole front of the car imploded on impact with the trunks, the car halved in size. The whole front bonnet was now in the driver's seat. 

“Oh my fucking god!” Sam got to her feet running over to the smoking vehicle. She rounded the car to the front, the driver’s top half was sprawled across the bonnet, unmoving. 

The man clearly wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, his whole body impaled with glass, the pool of blood quickly spreading around him. 

Sam hesitated, she didn’t know what made her pause, her hand outstretched ready to check the responsiveness of the driver. But she didn’t want to touch him for some reason, he seemed off, everything about this situation seemed odd. 

She slung the gun from her shoulder, extending it forward, Sam gently nudged the man with the barrel of her weapon. The man didn’t move or react, so she tried again but harder. 

“Hey! Dude!” Sam called to him, trying to rouse him from his unconscious state. The man’s shoulders rose and fell, was he breathing? Sam couldn’t tell. She stepped closer again, eyes trained on the driver. 

“Sir?” She uttered under her breath. 

The man’s head shot up, his bloodshot eyes staring into hers. Sam stumbled backwards, the sudden movement from the person made her heart drop. A strangled groan or gasp left the man’s lips, it didn’t sound human, almost animal-like. 

Feral. 

Sam out of instinct raised her gun again, but it wasn’t loaded, all of the ammo she had was neatly tucked away in her pack. 

The driver’s eye never left hers, but he began to move. Surely all of his limbs were broken or injured, but the man wrangled his arms back to his sides. His movements were sharp and jerky, Sam had never seen someone move like that before. A loud crack nearly made her gag as she watched the man move his backwards leg back into place. 

“What the actual fuck!” She whispered under her breath. She took small steps back from the car, trying not to alert the man of her current escape. 

Ragged breathing from the driver grew louder, she watched in horror as he lifted himself off the bonnet, a long piece of glass from the windshield halted his movement forward. Sam’s eye bulged as the man pushed himself up, removing himself from the glass that was slicing into his flesh, fresh blood pooled underneath him. Questions flooded through Sam’s head but a louder voice spoke over them. 

‘RUN!’ Her mind screamed at her to move, but she stayed planted in place, watching the driver. 

In that same moment the man had gotten himself free, by the time Sam looked up again at him, he was standing in front of the wreckage. He jolted forward in a gurgling roar, Sam didn’t look back as she sprinted her way through the trees. 

Her heartbeat pounded in her ears and ragged breaths spilled from her lips. She ran as fast as she could from him. He pursued her quickly and she could hear his rabid noises following her through the trees. 

Sam darted and weaved through the branches, hoping that the uneven terrain would slow down her pursuer. The wire fence came into view, if she crawled back she could hold him off and get some assistance, it was nearly time for patrol so there would be someone in the field that she could call over. 

Sam threw her pack off her shoulder, pushing it through the cut in the fence as she had only done moments before. The footfalls of the rabid man grew closer, his snarls and screaming sending shivers up her spine. Sam used her boot to shove her bag under the fence, but it was stuck. Her now entrance to safety was blocked by the bulky army bag. Her urgency rose even further as the man was so close she could see him charging through the trees in the distance. Sam kicked harder, using both of her feet, looking over her shoulder constantly to find the man coming closer and closer with each passing second. 

“Fucking hell!” Sam cried, willing the bag to just move at her effort, “Please!” She begged, putting her full strength into her legs. 

The rabid man now almost to the fence as well, growled loudly making his presence known. The bag came free moving from the hole, Sam moved quickly sliding under the wire as well, not wanting to look back at how close he had come to catching her. 

The girl got to her feet moving back from the fence as the man charged at full speed, never slowing. The driver launched himself at Sam, arms stretched wide, jaw hanging agape. She had never seen anything like it, no person has ever acted this way. 

The rabid man didn’t get very far in his attack, the chain link stopping him in his path, he ricocheted backwards landing in a heap on the ground. But much to Sam’s surprise he was back on his feet in no time, clawing and yanking at the barrier between them.      

“Hey, you!” A loud voice called from behind her, pulling her eyes from the crazy driver that gurgled and groaned. A guard walked towards her, his hand on his hip, ready to draw at any second. She raised her hands to show she meant no harm. 

“Sir, I can explain.” She replied breathlessly, but the guard's attention was drawn away from her as the driver roared loudly. 

They both turned to see the man had found his way under the fence, he clawed at the ground ferociously. 

Sam cringed, she could see from here the man’s fingernails ripping away from his flesh. 

Before she could even warn the guard, the driver had wiggled his way in. The driver leapt like he did before when he was coming after Sam, but this time there was nothing stopping his attack, the guard didn’t even have time to draw his weapon. 

The rabid man’s body crashed into the guards tackling them to the ground. Sam stepped back towards the fence. The driver baring his teeth, teared into the guard’s neck, blood spurting from the carotid artery that he had found so easily. 

The guard wailed in pain, trying to get the man off him. More voices sounded from across the field; the man's screams of pain had alerted the other guards.

Sam watched, her back pressed against the fence, as the driver lifted his head. The man stood focussing on the guards approaching, standing over the man who clutched at his neck choking breaths leaving his mouth. 

The driver once more sprinted towards the guards who came closer, but Sam didn’t need to see the rest, she had to get out of there. Once again she slid under the chain link fence, tugging her bag through with her. 

Sam ran quickly back to the road, her gun bouncing over her shoulder. She examined the car but it was completely totaled, she wouldn’t be able to drive it anywhere. The girl didn’t waste any time, she swung open the back doors, noting nothing of use. 

“Guess its plan fucking B then.”  

Authors note:

What did we all think of the first chapter?! Please let us know in the comments. Also stay tuned as the next chapter will be out shortly, if you would like to be notified when we post please let us know and we can add you to the tag list!! Did we scare you? Are you creeped out? Do you like Sam? hehehheehe

Love Esra ✨

[skitskatdacat63]

For @sansebastinae and @boisinnot, my fellow saint seb truthers :)

+ the usual

Yayyyy finished a drawing! Haha only took me...2 weeks. I kept going back and forth on whether I could finish it tonight, and I really wasn't going to. But then I looked at the unfinished version on a different screen and was like oh? Not too bad actually?? So I finished it :) First of all, ofc, here is the process. Kinda weird seeing it for smth like this, it makes me feel like I'm the painter in rennaisance au, not Mark dhjfkf

Ah I was gonna draw a silly renaissance au comic to accompany this(read: lighten the mood), but it's 5 am and I've still not really drafted it well, so! I'd like to finish it at some point bcs I wanna draw more chibi comics, but when I finish smth, I can't help but immediately want to post it, so part 2 will have to wait. I'll show you the outline though so you can at least imagine 😭

^ So many renaissance and beyond paintings of Saint Sebastian are always the most horny thing ever. Like pre/early rennaisance, yeah he was naked and all that, but they were pretty chaste, and uhhhhh suffering?? Well the newer paintings are suffering, but in a different way, if you know what I mean.

So I feel like Mark's the type to be overly pedantic about it, and refuses to make borderline porn of a saint, I mean, god forbid, Seb!!! But then he just. Does anyways. Because he can't control his lust for Seb even when drawing him half dead. I just imagine him holding the paintbrush in a death grip like "must not be horny. Must not draw him sexy. Must make him chaste." And then he ends up with the one seen above. Seb is all smug about it. "Wow you'd wanna fuck me even while I'm all bloody and dying? 🥺"

Mark: "oh I'll make you bloody, alright."

But god so funny to imagine Seb doing all these different slutty poses, like arching his back as much as possible, the cloth nearly falling off at all times, etc etc. And Mark finally lands on this pose bcs he hopes the suffering will outweigh the horny. It doesn't. Also Seb is genuinely serious once he actually gets into the pose, focus mode on. And honestly that's even worse for Mark, bcs it's so much more arousing to see Seb in his element, focused. Tbf I think Seb could be drinking water, and Mark would still find some way to sexualize it. Don't look at his sketches!! They're just filled with Seb doing all kinds of random activities.

Also! Here is the painting I referenced this off of, must give credit where credit is due ofc

The Dying St. Sebastian by François Fabre

Also this isn't really relevant in the context of this drawing specifically. But I looked thru a bunch of Saint Sebastian paintings while trying to find one I could reference, and I came across this middle ages one that actually looks so much like boy king seb 😭 I guess it really is meant to be!

St Sebastian between St Roch and St Peter by Pietro Perugino

Lmao but do you see the difference between early rennaisance and later work???

[spaghett-onaplate]

depression is really weird actually wdym i spent 2.5 years of my life in bed

[tamagotchikgs]

i hate my face it needs to be softer and i hate my body it needs to be sharper

[datastate]

i keep finding reminders of how i used to act/type a few years ago and i shrivel up. and die.

[maxiwaxipads]

Romarriche - “Your company is one of a kind… I would never lie to you. I would never say a half-truth or be quiet.” “What is it in your mind, Merold?” “Hearing your voice, complaint or not—it is music to me either way.” Merold - “If there is one constant in this world… Let it be you.” “You’re the cruelest and the kindest thing that happened to me.” “…If only you continued to look at me like that.” Romarriche - “…Merold?” Merold - “But~ It’s only a minor case of bad-mood-itis.” “So Romarriche, spoil me with a spar, will you?” Romarriche - “Merold.” Romarriche - “Look at me.” Merold - “…” Romarriche - “Is something… Wrong?” Merold - “Instead of a spar…” “I might want to lie down on your lap after all.”

[lunarharp]

lazy scribbling of my baldur's gate 3 characters