#thread: reason to live

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Li Zeyan’s Candlelight Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 烛火之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Translation Under the Cut]

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【Subbed Video】

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【Chapter 1】 

After being stuck in traffic for over forty minutes on the way to the airport, I slam on the brakes once again, staring in despair at the unmoving stream of cars ahead. 

The weather outside is gloomy, the sky overcast with heavy dark clouds, and the wind howls through the crevices of the car windows. 

Even though the evening has barely fallen, the sky is already darkened completely. 

MC: Feels like it’s gonna be pouring hard... 

MC: I don’t know if Li Zeyan’s flight has been affected. 

Just as I am about to look up the flight information, his call comes in. 

LZY: I’ve arrived. 

MC: That’s great! It looks like there’s gonna be a heavy downpour outside, so thank goodness you landed on time. 

MC: On the downside, though, I’m stuck in traffic... 

LZY: Given the weather, I could guess that already. 

LZY: Don’t rush, safety first. Turn on your headlights and take your time. 

MC: Don’t worry, I promise to follow the traffic rules~ So, I must apologize to CEO Li and ask him to wait for me a little longer~ 

LZY: No worries, I’ll just take this time to think about what to make for Pudding. 

The day Li Zeyan is returning from his business trip also happens to be Pudding’s birthday, and we’ve planned to have a small celebration at home. 

As I picture Li Zeyan making a birthday cake for the little kitten, the corners of my lips involuntarily curl upwards. 

MC: Pudding’s parents are so thoughtful! The little birthday boy is blessed with the luck of tasty treats today. 

MC: Rest assured, I’ll definitely get you to Pudding safely and in one piece. 

LZY: With a certain someone “braving the wind and waves” to come pick me up, I’m already luckier than those who can’t get a cab. 

MC: Hehe, this time it’s my turn to be the prince who cuts their way through thorns and thistles to rescue the sleeping princess! 

LZY: Well, it seems like I’ll have to wait a hundred years then.

MC: ...you just told me to take my time. 

A soft chuckle transmits from the other end of the phone, and carried by the car’s stereo, it spreads through the entire space, giving me the illusion as if he is right next to me. 

LZY: It’s not contradictory. 

LZY: Even if it takes you a hundred years, I’ll still wait.

–

──────

[Tidbits]:  This conversation here is a reference to one of Li Zeyan’s earliest ASMRs, “Sleeping Beauty,” where LZY said in response to MC’s question that if he were the prince, he wouldn’t let the girl he loves wait a hundred years. Whereas, in the reverse scenario here, he tells you that if he were the sleeping princess and you the prince, he would gladly wait a hundred years (இдஇ; ) though, for a man who literally did wait 17+10000(*n) years for you— a hundred years is, well, still unbearable to think about ahah (ﾉಥ益ಥ) 

–

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Chapter 2】

I park the car near the exit, and as soon as I look up, I see Li Zeyan walking towards me, dragging his suitcase. 

I immediately push open the car door and run up to him, throwing myself into his arms as hard as I can. Both his hands are occupied by luggage, and I collide against him so hard that he staggers back a few steps. 

His familiar scent wraps around me securely, instantly dispelling all the tension and fatigue from the road. I nuzzle against his chest contentedly, earning a soft chuckle from above my head. 

LZY: Why the lack of courtesy right off the bat?

MC: I haven’t seen you for days, and I’ve made our big busy person wait so long. I can’t afford to be polite anymore. 

Li Zeyan smiles, lets go of the luggage, and draws me into his arms, lowering himself to rest his head on my shoulder. 

A soft sigh sounds next to my ear, and I sense how exhausted he is. I put aside my playful thoughts and stroke the back of his head. 

MC: I hoped you could get some rest after getting off the plane, but I didn’t expect this weather… 

MC: I’ll head out earlier next time! 

LZY: You already got here much faster than I expected. 

LZY: Let’s go, there’s a birthday boy waiting at home. It’s raining hard outside; I’ll drive on the way back. 

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✄ ┈┈┈┈┈┈

As we head home, rain begins pouring down in torrents. Even with the wipers operating at their highest speed, the visibility only clears for a fleeting moment. 

Through the impenetrable curtain of rain, the emergency lights of nearby vehicles flicker faintly. The water pooling on the ground reflects the surroundings like mirrors, and the streets have transformed into an utterly bizarre kaleidoscopic labyrinth. 

I hold up my phone to record the scene outside the window when suddenly, a blinding flash of lightning splits the sky not far away, followed by a rolling thunder approaching from the distance, pressing closer and closer. 

I can’t help but shrink my neck and set my phone down. 

MC: This weather is just ridiculous… I’m sure today’s Moments posts are gonna be flooded with candid shots of the rainstorm. 

LZY: A certain someone has made significant strides. 

LZY: A few years back, you would get so nervous in this kind of weather that you’d grab onto other people’s clothes. Now, you'd just make a fuss about it on Moments. 

MC: Huh? When did I grab onto your clothes? 

I turn my head to look at him with a puzzled expression. Li Zeyan glances at me, and before he can even speak, a smile creeps onto the corners of his lips. 

LZY: That time when you asked me if I dared to like you. 

I freeze for a second, the familiar feeling of nervousness and anticipation surging to the forefront of my mind. 

Memories flood back along with the warmth of my cheeks, as I’m reminded of a similar night in the past mirroring this raging storm. 

The pitch-black darkness that descended after the power outage was so thick that one wouldn’t even be able to make out their own hand in front of them. I felt like danger, and the unknown would swallow me whole at any moment. But he was there with me, accompanying me for what felt like an eternity on that apocalyptic night. 

Back then, I felt like I couldn’t handle it on my own, so I wanted to cling to a straw, to hold onto this steady and exceptionally gentle person beside me. 

Snapping out of the reminiscence, I clear my throat to dispel my embarrassment. 

MC: Y-You don’t need to remember such things so clearly! 

MC: But come to think of it, ever since I met you, I don’t seem to have gotten rained on much. 

MC: Even if I forget my umbrella or can’t catch a ride, you always manage to “scoop” me up right on time. 

LZY: So, as a result, a certain someone has developed the bad habit of not checking the weather forecast before going out? 

MC: …It clearly taught me the good habit of how to “scoop” people up in crucial moments! 

The car stops at the intersection, waiting for the traffic light. Li Zeyan casts a glance my way, his lips curving into a smile as he strokes my head. 

LZY: Given that the person “scooping” me up is also the one I want to see, it does feel pretty good. 

His warm palm rests on my head for a moment before sliding down to my cheek with yearning. A small sense of satisfaction leaps in my heart, and I smile, poking his cheek. 

MC: I think I can understand why the prince braves countless perils to reach the princess.

MC: For this moment right now, I’m willing to endure any hardship~

–

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[Tidbits]:  The call-back of the apocalyptic night is from one of Li Zeyan’s earliest dates, “Doomsday Date,” where MC asks him if he’d dare to like her and if he’d dare to be by her side even if doomsday arrived – and the rest, as they say, is history, quite literally in this case ahah~ (இдஇ; ) 

–

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【Chapter 3】

“Bzzz!” 

As I step through the doorway and flip the switch for the pendant lamp, to my surprise, the light flickers and then abruptly goes out. 

The inside of the house is instantly taken over by the dimness from outside the windows. Pudding, who was originally crouching at the door to welcome us, lets out a yelp and scurries under the table. 

My mind automatically starts concocting a horror movie scenario, and I immediately step back a few paces. 

MC: What did the power suddenly go out? It was perfectly fine before I left... 

My words are barely out of my mouth when a series of extremely bright streaks of lightning flash outside the window. 

The howling gale rattles the window frames, while the water pipes exposed to the downpour on the side of the building, pelted by large raindrops, are making peculiar noises. 

The continuous flashes of lightning project the wildly swaying shadows of the trees onto the floor, making the storm outside seem even more terrifying. 

Li Zeyan sighs and steps forward, taking hold of my hand that is frozen in mid-air. 

LZY: Are there any spare lights or flashlights in the house? 

MC: Yes, there are, in my room... 

While saying this, I clutch Li Zeyan’s arm and carefully start walking towards my room. A hand reaches out and pulls me into a familiar embrace. 

LZY: Wasn’t a certain someone “scooping people up” pretty amazingly just now? Why are you so nervous now that we’re home? 

MC: ...I guess I’ve been overdoing it with the horror movies lately, and the after-effects are still a bit strong. 

I laugh awkwardly and, relying on the dim light of the flashlight, dig out a large, bulging bag from the storage box. 

MC: Rechargeable desk lamps, some decorative fairy lights, and lanterns. 

MC: They should work if we plug them into the power bank. 

LZY: ...That’s it? 

MC: They can provide light and serve as tools to set the ambiance. Isn’t that wonderful? 

Li Zeyan turns on a palm-sized rechargeable desk lamp and releases a small sigh. 

LZY: In that case, the gift I brought you can also be included to make up the difference. 

MC: Huh? What gift? 

Li Zeyan rummages through his suitcase, takes out an exquisitely wrapped box, and gestures for me to open it. 

I lean in closer and find a very charming candle holder with a glass cover nestled inside. 

MC: It’s so beautiful! As expected, CEO Li’s eye for things can never go wrong. 

LZY: Simultaneously doing the job of adding flowers to the brocade and delivering charcoal in snowy weather一 it definitely seems to be maximizing its value.  

LZY: Come on, let’s go and light up all the lamps that we can use first. 

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✄ ┈┈┈┈┈┈

With me “lending a hand” by holding the flashlight through the entire process, dinner and Pudding’s salmon cake are soon prepared. 

Pudding, who had been hiding in the corner this entire time, also forgets his fear under the temptation of delectable food and begins prancing around again. 

After eating and drinking to our fill, I sit on the carpet with another small blanket, light a scented candle, and carefully set it in the candle holder Li Zeyan gifted me. 

Li Zeyan then casually plops down at the foot of the bed where I’m leaning, naturally stretching out his arm for me to use as a pillow. 

I look at Pudding grooming his fur not far away and can’t help but sigh with emotion. 

MC: Time sure flies! Pudding has grown another year older. I wonder what progress he’ll make this year. 

LZY: He wasn’t very brave when he was younger, but now he, too, looks after the house on his own and appears to be fairly calm and composed. 

MC: Why did you use “too“? I suspect you’re insinuating something about someone else. 

LZY: Just stating facts. 

LZY: The way a certain someone acted when she walked into the house earlier didn’t exactly resemble the “prince“ who came to pick me up. 

I glance again at the flashes of lightning and thunder rolling outside again, scratching my cheek awkwardly. 

MC: The house just went dark all of a sudden; I wasn’t mentally prepared. 

LZY: What about now? 

LZY: Are you still scared? 

I turned sideways to watch him. The dancing candlelight paints his side profile in a warm glow, and the subtle fragrance of the scented candle melds into his calm gaze, making me gradually relax. 

I hug his arm and pull him into my arms, beaming a wide smile at him. 

MC: I have my “fragrant princess“ in my arms now, and I fear neither getting swept by wind nor being battered by rain any longer. [3]

LZY: Are we sure about who’s in whose arms? 

MC: Does it really make a difference who’s in whose arms? 

Li Zeyan gives me a look that says “whatever you say,” and I smile victoriously at having my way before turning to glance at the pitch-black darkness outside the window.  

The small lights in the room are mirrored on the glass, reminiscent of stars, blurring into a cluster of halos by the unrelenting rain. 

Serenity and turmoil are separated by only a wall. I grasp his wrist and tilt my head, pillowing into his palm and nuzzling against it. 

MC: Luckily, you came back today. Otherwise, I would have definitely dragged you into “simmering a pot of telephone congee” with me all night long. [4]

LZY: That wouldn’t have been too bad either. 

MC: Well, that’s true, but it would have made me seem like I haven’t grown at all... 

I raise my head and look into his slightly puzzled gaze, feeling a little embarrassed as I lower my voice. 

MC: I’m clearly not a child anymore, and many of the things I used to fear shouldn’t be a big deal now. 

MC: Yet when running into situations where I’m not entirely confident, I can’t help feeling a little afraid. 

MC: For instance, a pitch-dark empty house, not being able to find the kitten, and a thunderstorm that I don’t know when will end. 

MC: I still can’t seem to be like you, to be able to keep myself from thinking the worst regardless of the kind of situation I’m confronted with... 

I soliloquize in a whispered tone, and the palm I’m resting my head on suddenly moves. I look up, and my fingers are immediately swept up in a reassuring warmth.

Li Zeyan is pillowing himself on my bolster, covered by a blanket that is clearly not big enough for him, creating for a rather comical scene. Yet, I find myself solely captivated by his extraordinarily serious gaze. 

He quietly watches me like this for some time before finally opening his mouth to respond. 

LZY: Then just be afraid. 

MC: ...Huh? 

LZY: Building courage doesn’t mean you should be absolutely fearless. 

LZY: If you have no reaction to the unknown and uncontrollable, that, on the contrary, is dangerous. 

LZY: For a dummy, knowing how to dodge in the right direction at a critical moment is also progress. 

He strokes the back of my hand meaningfully, and I clasp his fingers even more tightly in tacit understanding. 

In moments of fear and anxiety, I always want to hold onto something, to reassure myself that I’m not facing it alone. 

And this man in front of me, as fortune would have it, always happens to be within my reach, catching my insecurities and leading me along slowly. 

I think back to the first time I “grabbed onto” him, the gentleness in his tone that I had rarely seen, and I can’t help but laugh. 

MC: Well then, it seems I’ve been making progress since the first time I grabbed onto your clothes. 

LZY: Mm-hmm, it hasn’t been easy. 

MC: But I can only advance a little bit at a time. I’ve kept you waiting for so long. 

The corners of his lips curl up slightly, and his eyes, sparkling with a smile, gently embrace me. 

LZY: This isn’t work; nobody is asking anything from you. 

LZY: If you’re afraid, just light up a lamp.

–

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[Tidbits]

[3] LI ZEYAN WRITERS!!! CRIES AT THE SACRIFICE I HAD TO MAKE AND HOW THE BEAUTY OF THE WORDPLAY JUST GETS LOST IN TRANSLATION HERE 😭 anywho, as you might’ve already noticed, “rescuing the sleeping princess“ theme and the “seeming“ role reversal has been one of the running themes of this date. The term used here is 软香 (lit. meaning soft fragrance), which is usually used to refer to the delicate scent of a woman or a woman in general and, in the context of the times, a palace beauty. The full term MC uses here is 软香在怀 (lit. meaning having ‘soft fragrance’ in one’s arms), which also conveys a deep emotional closeness, a sense of security and comfort as scent is something very sensitive. What the writing does here is kill three birds with one stone— (i) conveying MC’s “prince and princess role reversal“ quip, while also delivering the emotions of the candlelight monologue two sentences prior, i.e., (ii) the fragrance melding into his calm gaze, the vivid imagery of her sensitivity to his presence itself, (iii) the reassuring effect of his being. 

[4] I’m gonna cry; this is such an adorable expression haha 😭 the term MC uses here is “煲电话粥,” which really does mean “simmering telephone congee.” The idea of it is to have a marathon phone call with sb, but it’s more intimate— similar to how simmering sth can take a long time and porridge essentially is a comfort food 😂 

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【Chapter 4】

The night is dark, and the rain seems to have weakened a bit. I hug the blanket and squeeze onto the small bed with Li Zeyan. No matter in which position we lay down, most of our bodies are pressed against each other. 

I watch the person beside me becoming a part of the scene I’ve been familiar with since my childhood days, and for a long time, I find myself unwilling to close my eyes. 

MC: It feels so surreal to have you and Pudding together at my place. 

MC: It’s like having guests at home, but at the same time, it feels like welcoming new members to the family. 

LZY: So, which one do you hope I am? 

MC: I’ve long regarded you as the latter in my heart, obviously. 

MC: However, this situation makes me seem like I’m not being a gracious host... 

MC: Having to deal with the bad weather is one thing, but who knew the electricity in the house would be unstable at a critical moment, and now my bed isn’t big enough either. 

I look up at the small pink pillow under Li Zeyan’s head and sigh softly. Li Zeyan, however, just smiles calmly and brushes aside the hair falling over my face. 

MC: Be careful when you roll over. If you’re afraid of falling off, just hug me a little tighter~ 

LZY: [i’m cRY at how he just plays along with you haha] It’s certainly something to be afraid of. 

Li Zeyan says this as he gets up to turn off the lights, and the room is plunged into darkness once again. 

I reach out my arms towards him and am immediately swept back into his arms. 

MC: Thank you, CEO Li~ How about I repay you with a goodnight kiss? 

LZY: That’s it? 

MC: Then what else do you want? 

I blink my eyes at him, and suddenly, he lifts his hand to cover my sight. 

A soft warmth captures my lips, swallowing my confusion. 

He holds me too tightly in the square of his arms, and his broad palm accidentally presses on my nose, causing my already erratic breathing to become even more difficult to maintain. 

I punch him indignantly, and Li Zeyan finally moves his hand away, his fingers cradling my face. 

LZY: Didn’t you say you wanted to repay me? 

MC: T-This isn’t what I had in mind! 

LZY: Is this not good? 

His warm finger pads caress the side of my face in a back-and-forth motion, leaving me with no refuge to escape but to gaze into his smiling eyes. 

LZY: Instead of letting your imagination run wild every time you’re scared, why not think about something that can put your mind at ease?  

LZY: For example, me. 

LZY: So, consider this as collecting a tip in advance to cover your memories.  

A soft chuckle drifts from above me, and he lifts my face again. With the last hint of light also overlaid, I close my eyes, welcoming this novel memory pertaining to the night’s darkness. 

┈┈┈┈┈┈ ✄ ┈┈┈┈┈┈

The next morning, the sky finally clears up. 

The entire city looks as if it has taken a bath. Under the early morning sunlight, there are glittering lights refracted by water droplets everywhere. 

I summon every bit of my self-control and more to extract myself from Li Zeyan’s warm embrace and rise early to make breakfast. 

Originally, I planned to have him take the day off and recover from jet lag, but as soon as he gets out of bed, he receives a call from LFG, saying there is an urgent matter that needs to be dealt with in person. 

I watch as a certain someone at the dining table finishes his breakfast with a sullen look on his face and can’t help but burst into laughter. 

MC: Who knew even CEO Li could show such a “rebellious” expression about having to work overtime. 

LZY: ...It’s just that I haven’t gotten over the jet lag yet.  

MC: Who told you not to sleep obediently last night? 

I stand up with a laugh before he can glare at me and push his suitcase to the door for him. Li Zeyan dons his coat, seems to hesitate for a moment, and then turns back to look at me. 

MC: What’s wrong? 

LZY: Nothing. 

MC: It doesn’t seem like you’ve left anything behind, have you? 

I look around to check while speaking, but I realize that Li Zeyan has kept his gaze trained on me, with no intention of searching for anything. 

I blink my eyes, and an adorable guess bubbles up in my heart. 

MC: Could it be that... CEO Li is unwilling to leave? 

Li Zeyan grips the handle of the suitcase, averts his eyes, and smiles. 

LZY: Let Pudding stay at your place for one more day. 

MC: No worries, we’ll get along perfectly. 

He doesn’t give a direct answer to my question, so I take it as his tacit assent and continue along with his words. 

LZY: He ate quite a lot last night, so feed him less cat food today. 

MC: Understood~ 

LZY: Be careful with the electricity today, and if you run into any issues, reach out to me right away. 

MC: Uh-huh, anything else you want to remind me of? 

I stare at him, smiling giddily. Li Zeyan opens his mouth, but in the end, he just displays a helpless expression and says nothing. 

The rare instance of not being able to find the words to say, the rare moments of being dumbstruck and not knowing how to reply, the rare scenario of dragging his feet about going to work... 

All of this shows that he is really unwilling to leave. 

I smile even happier and tiptoe up to lock my arms around his neck.  

Li Zeyan seems a bit puzzled, but he promptly supports my waist and arches an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. 

MC: Hehe, consider this as a tip you’re paying in advance. 

MC: This way, whenever you feel overwhelmed in the future, you will think of only me. 

I mimic his words from last night, and even reach up to muss his hair. 

LZY: Little copycat. 

Li Zeyan seems to want to resist this “childish” act subconsciously, but his arms betray his honest feelings and draw me in even tighter. 

He looks at me with a silly smile on my face, about to say something when I suddenly feel a tickle on my ankle, as if something furry is rubbing against it. 

Just as I’m about to look down, my face is pinched by someone. 

I’m compelled to raise my head and see the sunlight falling on Li Zeyan. 

The locks of hair hanging over his forehead and eyelashes are all bathed in dazzling, golden-bright luster. He reminds one of a big cat who has just woken up, making people irresistibly want to get closer to him. 

And he does exactly as I wished, taking the initiative to bring this warmth to me. 

The distance between us is reduced to zero, and I naturally close my eyes, welcoming this kiss infused with the warmth of the sunlight. 

Even if a person grows accustomed to the humidity of this city, they will still rejoice when the sky clears and the sunshine beams down. 

Even for those who can see the person they love every day and kiss them whenever they want, they will still find that any small separation feels too long. 

The meow of the kitten rises from our feet, as if it also wants to participate in this wordless goodbye. I gently bite Li Zeyan’s lips, and he, rather reluctantly, pulls back just a bit. 

MC: Mr. Customer, you’re being too generous with your tip. 

With his eyes cast down, he continues to gaze at me, his breath still lingering at the edge of my lips. 

LZY: Because I’ve already fulfilled the conditions you set. 

LZY: Now that I’ve paid double the tip, I’m asking for an upgrade on the terms. 

He raises an eyebrow, as if he is genuinely negotiating with me. 

At such proximity, my mind is already a muddled mess, yet I still manage to capture the answer he desires from the look of yearning in his eyes. 

I strive to muster my willpower, rise on tiptoe, and kiss his lips again.

MC: Then you must work diligently and clock out early... 

MC: And who knows, perhaps I’ll suddenly appear when you’re missing me?

──────────────────────────────────────────

[uhohdad]

@thesoundofrayne once again leaving us gagged. they’re all so good but the price ones in particular i- ✋🏻😭

ily rayne thank u bb <3 <3 🩷💕💖🩷💕

KONIG X READER HUNGER GAMES AU

‼️⚠️🚨MAJOR VICTOR II 🚨MEMES/ SPOILERS BELOW!! ‼️⚠️

more TGWCM memes

[skunkes]

biggest downside of not having many experiences or meeting many people is not having anything to feed into the art machine

[inamindfarfaraway]

Hey Descendants fans, did you know that the franchise has a stage musical adaption? I wasn't until today! But this production is actually really cool, creatively adapting plot points and remixing songs from all over the franchise. There's so much earnest passion bringing it to life. It has the charm of the first movie that endeared us to this stupid franchise despite itself. And the immense added charm of being not a Disney Studios production designed to make money by copying Ever After High with worse writing, but instead an independent project by people just like us who also love this stupid franchise and put in the work and care to make their rewrite fanfic a LIVE MUSICAL. I'd say that it has better writing and costume design than the movies do at times. (Looking at you, Descendants 3).

[supernova2395]

Not going to lie, I think the worst thing you can do to your narrative is build up to something and then not deliver it. It just devalues the rest of your story and leaves people going, “Then what was even the point of introducing this???”

[elkkiel]

i'm really happy!! i scrolled back on some of my kitty token and like. i'm officially at the point where I'm cringing at my art from a few months ago again!! that might sound sarcastic but i'm 100% serious. stagnating or even losing skill from being burnt out and depressed feels fucking awful. and like without art I genuinely have no fucking clue how to keep on going. but i think i'm getting healthier to the point where i'm finally improving again with little baby steps. so slowly getting those skills back feels unbelievably good

i'm just :') haven't felt hope like this in years, like since i finally found the right mix of meds and didn't want to kill myself every single day lol. life is feeling fucking worth it again baby. nothing to say fuck it to, we are just straight up balling B)

[yakam0z]

so excited for the devil may cry anime with dante and when you close your eyes all you can hear is nero 🙈🥰

[myriadxofxmuses]

@lunarruled from X

To say Daryl was relieved they were back ans unharmed was an understatement. He had already been biting at the bit to figure out a way to get them home. He didn't care what rescuing them may have brought, nor their subsequent escape, he just wanted them back - never having been for them women leaving in the first place. A fact that Rick had been hearing about since the decision had been made to leave.

"He gave ya rooms?" Daryl asked, genuinely shocked they'd gotten such comfort at Sanctuary. "Sonofabitch," he said under his breath.

He'd fully expected them to have been put into a cell the same as he had, but then again they were attractive women. It wouldn't have surprised him if Negan was trying to groom them to become one of his wives. As if that would have worked.

"Dwinght left yea?" he asked further, glancing between the two women. Sydney gave him a silent nod in confirmation. "I knew tha' asshole was up ta no good. I doubt he comes back. 'Specially if he does find his wife," he went on, irritated that the group had even considered trusting that guy. "Saviors ain't no good. Period."

"Relax D," Syd chimed in. "We're fine and anyone in Dwight's position would do the same. Even you," she told him truthfully, momentarily side eyeing Ky knowingly. Daryl merely huffed, knowing she was right and apparently about who he would have done it for.

"Why don't we get back to the house and you can fill us in on everything," Rick started, diffusing Daryl's rising anger and ushering the small group further into Alexandria. "If Dwight is gone for good and you two escaped, then you're right about Negan. He won't stop until he finds all of you and gets you back to Sanctuary. We have to be ready for anything," he added as they walked.

-----

"That's all I could get from out little walkthrough. I gotta give it to him, it's pretty secure," Sydney told them as she finished giving her relay of the trip. "There's only one weakness in the whole compound and it isn't easy to get to. The only way we're going to take it is if we manage to turn some of his guys and convince them to just let us in. But I don't see how we're going to do that," she added a bit dejected.

[savingthrcw]

@ordinariums x Jack

She had relatively ditched Theta, who was busy saving the day in a more 'Doctor'-ish fashion, to do the little side-mission and stop bad guys who had tried to run in her own special way; he could whine later, for now she was happy to crack heads open with her new bat. It was a particularly lovely bat too, with nails and everything, and she had been enamored with it from the second she had stolen it. Okay, she wouldn't tell Theta that, but she also did want to protect this side of Cardiff for personal reasons, and these bastards would no doubt cause problems later, if let go. "I know you!" she exclaimed, spotting a familiar face and pulling her bloodied bat back on her shoulder, "You are the freak who can't die, yeah?" Plenty data all around on this one.

[chompe-diem]

already living in the au where riz is senior class president bc i know it's never becoming canon

[arolesbianism]

Y'know the fun thing abt how I've set up the society that the main stalien cast comes from is that even the most broad general trends across stalien societies tend to not apply to them. So everytime I yap about how most herds form and the general trends in their societies I just get to remember mid yapping that basically none of this will ever be evident or even come up in the main story. Damn isolated motherfuckers

[biennatodd]

hey danmei twitter can u guys rt this and help me find my moots and oomfies i want u back 🥺🥺🥺

[abyssalpriest]

Lev really is one of those grandpas you find out was involved in hardcore war shit and a bunch of serious high ranking jobs when he was younger and you just cannot believe it's the same person

[organised-disaster]

Aight @baxieblur-turnip and @randosfandos y'all know the drill here it is

SNOWBIRD: CHAPTER IV

I stare at the ceiling. It's quite nice. Wood panels. Inoffensive. I count the scratch marks in it, then the proper holes.

I've just nicked it more than I've actually hit it. I don't especially try when I throw my knife. It used to be Otto's. I feel bad launching it at the ceiling, but it's what I do when I'm bored.

I retrieve it from my drawer. I flick it open and close a few times, running my thumb over the dimpled texture of the green handle while I study the ceiling. I can almost see the shape of a face...

I throw the knife up into a blank spot. It makes a tiny scratch. Not enough force. It sails back down into my hand. I catch it easily, the blunt side of the blade slotting seamlessly between my fingers.

Again. It thuds into the ceiling, between the boards, and I almost think it's going to stay there. It slides out, however, rotating to be blade-first. It pierces the pillow next to my head. How unfortunate.

Again. A thunk can be heard as it stays put. I stand to retrieve it, my bed creaking in protest. The ceilings are not especially low, but Otto's knife is easily within my reach.

It comes away too easily. Not enough force, once again. I stay standing instead of lying down again. I look at the knife in my hand.

I could stop. I could stop damaging the ceiling over and over again, and I could stop blunting the knife. I should stop.

I am only breaking things. No, not even breaking. This is nothing.

This is just more purposeless damage. I am just stabbing the ceiling, the ceiling that can not die, or feel it at all. This is an exercise in futility. I am satisfying nothing.

The sound the knife makes as I personally drive it into the ceiling is very satisfying indeed.

I step off my bed, landing silently on my floor. I allow the knife to say in my ceiling. I don't need it, anyway. I have other, much sharper knives. Better knives.

I pass my empty wall. The spot with four holes in it as if something was once displayed there stares into me, accusing me. I face it, staring back. I blindfold it by displaying Sera's gift. Yumi's warm, grey eyes now bore a hole into my skull, but it's a marginal improvement.

I shut the door quietly behind me. I don't care about the noise I make, but I don't need to be loud. It would feel too small.

My footsteps echo in the empty hallway. There used to be photos in this house. Filling the walls. There also used to be laughter.

The one photo left sits alone on the mantle. I know what it looks like, of course. I wasted many days staring at it.

Yumi is approximately seven. My mother is desperately trying to keep a hold of her, obviously tired but still smiling. Yumi is wearing a large grin, several teeth missing, as she seems to yell and reach toward the photographer.

One of her hands is pushing my mother's face to the side, slightly squishing her smile. My father is holding me, smiling at my mother and Yumi rather than the camera. I look grumpy.

It was taken in winter, so we are all wearing warm clothing. I look adequately cared for, with a knit beanie and fluffy green jumpsuit covering all of me but my face. My father's puffy jacket is an equal green. Yumi's brown sweater matches the one our mother is wearing. Yumi had to be wrestled into that sweater.

It's a lovely, lively photo, full of warmth and happiness. It reflects nothing of what we are now, though. It's almost like looking into a broken mirror.

You know what's supposed to be there, what it's supposed to look like, and it just doesn't. You can tell what it was. You can tell what it did. And it will never be what it was again, even if you fix it.

It's far more complicated than a broken mirror, though. We've lost all but two of the pieces, and one is so dirty and scratched that it's functionally worthless. We don't even have the glue to put those two pieces back together.

I hate the year-old girl in that photo. I hate her dissatisfied frown and barely visible black hair. I hate her chubby, tiny, tightly balled fists. I hate her innocence. I hate her ignorance.

I'm not looking at the photo now, though, so there is nothing immediately in front of me to hate. At least until I reach the mirror. But I already know what I look like. I will just ignore myself, like always.

I wash my face for the third time today. I should apologise to Sera. I should also never speak to Sera again. I should also lie down in the sand and wait for the ocean to claim me.

It's unclear what order I should take those actions in. Logic states that the ocean will take up far more of my time than begging for Sera's forgiveness and exit from my life.

I do not like logic. It is normally against me. I don't really want to talk to Sera right now, either. I don't want to talk to her, full stop. She'll come to me, talk to me, convince me to talk to her. She always does.

Of course, the Reaping is soon. I have several hours to kill. Normally, I'd spend this time with Sera. It would be tense, and there would be something inherently sad about it, but we would have each other. And that would be how we held each other together.

But not today. I won't lose this. I don't lose. It isn't something I do. I don't need Sera. I need her like I need a gaping head wound. I need her like I need the knife in my ceiling. Gods, I hate that knife.

I hated Otto's urgency as she pressed it into Yumi's hands before pressing an equal kiss to her lips. I hated my father's soulless eyes as he dropped a box of Yumi's things on my lap. I hated the message at the bottom of that box.

I hate that message.

I twist the tap violently enough that it must have bruised my hand. What a shame. The tap drips for a moment, then realises it's done with its job and ceases. The ensuing silence is decidedly agitating. It is broken by the sound of the door creaking open.

I will not look in the mirror. I will not acknowledge who is staring back at me, and I especially will not acknowledge who is behind me. I bring my hands behind my head, gathering my hair into one area.

I make sure to keep my eyes closed. I slide my hairband off my wrist and wrap it once, twice, three times around my ponytail until it is tight and stays in its place just behind where my head curves. I drag the towel across my face, mildly hoping it'll miraculously turn into steel wool.

I push past the man with the unshaved face and uncombed hair. I do not speak to him. He has missed his chance. He lays a hand on my shoulder.

The father makes some semblance of an attempt to speak to his daughter. The daughter coldly brushes away her father's hand.

My gait is not hurried, but most would fall behind. I don't know where I'm going. I suppose I'll find out when I get there. More people are around now. Most of them are Peacekeepers.

Preparing for the yearly slaughter, of course. It's a miracle Annie won the last. The poor girl snapped like a twig the minute Moor was beheaded. I don't blame her.

We were... not friends. Never friends. I knew her. It wouldn't be right to say that I know her. But we interacted, and I didn't hate her. She's how I knew him.

I remember how she trembled in the chair she looked too small in when her other friends rushed in to wish her luck and comfort her. He would have loved to, but mentors aren't allowed to.

I don't envy her. Or him. Nothing good came of their victories, aside from the food parcels for District Four. He's off in the Capitol being treated like an object, and Annie is... hopefully still breathing.

Perhaps I should visit her. There was far too much screaming coming from her house in Victor's Village for a woman who lives alone the last time I tried to check on her, though. It's best that I stay away.

Seth is about her age, I believe. They've never once held a conversation, but Seth has a way of speaking without his voice. He is very regular with his visits to her.

He looks almost identical to his sister. Messy blonde curls that spill easily into his eyes and tie themselves into knots around his ears, dulled-gold irises, a constellation of freckles across his nose and cheeks, a solid, strong build. One of their very few physical differences is his facial hair, which isn't much more than some thicker patches of fuzz at the moment.

I'm told he's very handsome by his many fans. I don't see it. He's just a male version of Sera, so feasibly I should be able to see it, but it just doesn't appear to me. Perhaps it's his lack of everything that I find sweet about her. Sera's face in my vision every day for almost two decades could have warped my perception of what "good-looking" is...

Most people assume Seth is mute or deaf or both, but he turns when someone talks to him, and he responds with a mumble or vague noise if I ask him something.

Seth is... strange. He's oddly fascinated by seaweed and the like, wasting all his free time poking at samples of it pulled up of fishing trips. He doesn't feel anything until it's applied tenfold, and even then, it doesn't appear to bother him. He'll just stare at people if they talk to him.

He talks to his friends the most. They adore him. It's understandable, with his inexplicable odd charm. It was easy to assume at first that they were just acting like they liked him because they found it funny.

They're genuine, though. They gather, the five or so of them, without him occasionally. I once walked past them as they were talking, and he was mentioned many times.

They talked about how odd it was that he knew so much about seaweed, but changed it immediately by talking about what he knew and how interesting it was. They discussed if they should bring Seth along to an event, mainly debating if he would enjoy it. One of them mentioned a rock Seth had given him, holding it out and praising it.

I don't consider myself jealous. It made me wonder for a moment if that was how the people who knew me talked about me when I wasn't present. I felt relieved for a moment. I am not one to try to deny facts, however.

I'm not blind. I saw the glares Seth's friends gave me.

One of them was Otto's younger brother, Oswald. She had two, him and a boy named Fayrouz, who's now about thirteen. He hates me now, but I would sometimes see him when Otto came over to talk to Yumi.

I remember her fairly well, although I didn't know her as greatly.

Otto loved green and wore a lot of it. Mainly deep sages, but I'd occasionally see her wearing an almost blindingly lime shirt. She was one of the fishers and had the build to match. Her burnt umber skin was lined with scars, especially her hands, and her whole body rippled when she flexed.

She had distinctly sharp features, much like the Esthel twins. Unlike them, though, her caramel-colour gaze could easily cut diamond. Her face was also more square, drawing attention to her high, ever-bruised cheekbones. She would always wear her black, curling hair in a low ponytail.

Oswald and I talked a little then, while our sisters were busy with their schoolwork and their gossip. He's a nice enough guy. Or, he used to be, anyway. He has a lot of friends. Sera is one of them.

He's very fond of her. She's ushered me out of her house so she can talk to him before. It makes sense. He detests me, and Sera likes him for some reason, so she keeps us separate.

Mechi sometimes brings up how Ozzie being alone with Sera doesn't bother me, but them being alone does. I don't really have anything to address that. I can't really take him seriously, I guess. I know I'll never have to worry about Sera preferring him to me.

He looks just like Otto. His hair is curlier than hers, and he keeps it cut short, but very similar. His eyes used to have her same piercing quality, but now they smoulder when I look at him. He didn't use to try to look like her.

It's for the opposite of the reason I keep my hair long, I'd imagine.

When Yumi died, it was like his older sister had died all over again. But at least there was someone he could rightfully blame. He likes it when we're partnered together in training. Especially when weapons get involved. He never wins, but he doesn't care.

Yumi's swap was considered "a shock" and "a display of friendship." Mine was called "a tragedy" and "unjust" and "stealing."

Otto loved Yumi deeply. And then Yumi was called, and Otto couldn't imagine life without her. So Otto took Yumi's place without a moment's hesitation. Yumi was comforted and consoled, and Otto was mourned as a dead woman.

Yumi cared for me. And then I was called, and Yumi felt that I was her responsibility. So Yumi took my place without a moment's hesitation. I was scowled at and disregarded, and Yumi was mourned as a loss.

It's not unfair, not exactly. Yumi was all kinds of excellent, but Otto was different. Colder, but still as caring. Less patient, but still as willing to listen. She gave solutions when presented with problems.

I remember her voice being smooth and warm. Much like someone else's. I didn't cry at her funeral, either. Rumi Erudite doesn't cry.

There was so something so utterly tragic about Otto.

It doesn't matter, not anymore. She's dead.

Ah. So my destination was the beach. Logical. It's nice this time of year. Victors will often stop here on their tours.

I don't feel anything when I sit down in the sand, just ahead of where the waves lap at my feet. I don't want to get saltwater on these shoes. And I don't like the way the waves move. I don't like the way they're getting closer to me.

Some part of me laughs at that. They're waves. They can't be malicious. They can't be cunning. They can't be evil. They can't... hate...

I shake that away and shuffle further up the beach.

It would be nice if I could feel what I felt three hours or so ago. It would also be nice if I could describe that feeling. It's childish that all I know is that I feel it with Sera, childish that I know nothing of my own emotions.

I wish my appreciation of the sunsets and sunrises wasn't linked to Sera. I wish my best memories didn't involve her. I wish that I didn't feel short of breath when she laughs.

I wish, I wish, I wish...

How childish. How naïve. How old am I, really? That I'm stuck wishing and hoping and whining? I hate that. I hate it all. I hate Sera.

I stare out into the ocean. I normally try to identify the boats on the water, but it's all been put on hold for the Reaping. The ocean surface is empty. It's slightly odd. It's very much non-standard, but it isn't alien.

It's sort of like when the birds all fall silent and leave the skies when a storm is brewing. It's not like it isn't normal. It's just not a good sign.

No boats means a child of District Four dies.

I remember when Sera would come home from storms. If she was caught in one, it'd be because they blew in before they could react. I'd wrap a blanket around her shoulders as she laughed about how she had been thrown overboard and hauled back on more than once.

I've noticed a pattern with Sera. Every time something bad happens to her, she just... starts joking. It's like she can't take it seriously. She refuses to acknowledge her own injuries. I'll usually have to drag her over to Cod. The only time she's taken herself there was when she accidentally cut off part of her ring finger while chopping carrots, and even then, she still tried to deflect it as okay for about thirty seconds. She worries me sometimes.

One night after a storm, Sera didn't laugh. She knocked on my door and waited where she would normally just let herself in. Even when I answered, she just stood in front of the door, dripping wet from the pouring rain with her head hanging. I could barely hear her when she asked to come inside.

I wonder if it's possible to purge memories. The ones after Yumi's death are all blurred. Those aren't gone, though. I want them gone entirely, so I wouldn't even know that I was remembering them strangely.

Alas.

The ocean's calm, at least.

"Rumi." I jump slightly. The newcomer's soft voice surprised me, somehow so much louder than everything else. I glance at the sky instead of her. The light's changed. I have no idea how long I was staring out at the mostly-flat ocean.

I identify her by the stitching at the hem of her shirt as I turn to watch the ocean again.

"Figured I'd find you here," Mechi says vaguely.

"Yes, well..." I respond, equally non-specific.

There is more silence. I assume Mechi is admiring the sea.

"You made her cry, you know," she says after a few minutes.

"Okay." Mechi sighs.

"Showed up on our doorstep," she furthers.

"Okay." Mechi shifts next to me.

"She was bawling her eyes out about how she upset you. She blames herself for every little thing you do, you know."

"That seems like her problem."

"Gods, Rumi, don't you care? You're her best friend," Mechi says, irritated. I finally turn to her so I can glare at her.

She's exactly as she always is. Blank. Mechi does not show her emotions much. It's not deliberate, I don't think.

"Why should I care about what Sera blames herself for? Why should her issues be mine, too? When did I agree to that?" Mechi flexes her hands.

"When you became her friend, that's when," she says, maintaining her composure. I turn away from her. Mechi sighs again. "It's sort of difficult to calm her down when she gets like that, you know." I do know. I've known Sera for longer than she has. I hate it when people act like they know her better than me.

"She loves contact, yeah?" Mechi continues. "Likes having her hair fixed, likes being hugged, likes being held. She loves to have somebody wrap their arms around her." Mechi pauses for a moment. "Affection. From someone she trusts. That's all she really needs."

There's another long pause between the two of us.

"To make her feel safe again. You know how it is."

She's saying all that like she did it. That's all oddly intimate for someone who's just her friend. Mechi's not close to her like I am. I'm the only one who's allowed to do things like that. That's what I do with Sera, not her. That's ours, not hers. And I don't like what she's implying with that snarky little last comment. The sand crunches in my clenched fists.

"You're too cruel to her. You're on a good path to lose her, you realise." She really thinks she knows what she's talking about, doesn't she? "I can tell when she's upset. I can tell when she's scared. I know how she gets when you get angry."

Oh, of course. Because Mechi knows everything, apparently. She acts like this sometimes, like she's the smartest person in all of Panem. She acts like she's so much better than me.

Sera doesn't "get" anything when I'm angry. She knows it's not really her fault. It's not even directed at her most of the time. I always apologise to her afterwards, too. I hate to see her upset. Which I recognise better than Mechi.

Mechi doesn't have any right to assume things about me and Sera. She knows far less than I do. And she's making me angry. I bet she's doing it on purpose so she can lie some more and say that I'm always like this. Fine then. If she wants me to be angry, I'll get angry.

"Really?!" I snap at her. She doesn't flinch. "You really have the audacity to say that?! I've known Sera for fifteen years! You've known her for - for not even a third of that! Do you think you're even remotely capable of knowing her like I do?! Do you really think that you - "

"She says you scare her sometimes," Mechi says levelly, cutting me off. "She says you aren't really yourself."

I don't scare Sera. We're friends. She's not scared of me. She knows me. Maybe... maybe once, years ago, I did scare her, but we talked about that! And besides, she'd tell me if she was afraid of me. She wouldn't tell Mechi instead. She wouldn't hide her feelings from me. She wouldn't betray me like that.

I know Mechi's lying. She's doing it to make me angry. Sera would never betray me. Sera would never say that I'm not myself. She knows me. She knows who I am. She's the only one who does.

Mechi is a liar.

"You've got an excellent tactic right now, actually," she says, still daring to speak. "You're absolutely awful to her, then you tell her you care about her and act so sweet about it." How dare she. How dare she. I'm not. I'm not anything she says I am. I'm nothing she says I am. She's everything she says I am, if anything! She's the -

"What, are you just going to sit there and get redder?" Mechi prods. She's waiting for me to come to any kind of a conclusion on my own. I have a conclusion for her. I have so many conclusions for her, and right now, a lot of them end in her blood decorating the sand.

"You don't know anything about us!" I shout, going in the least violent direction. "I care about Sera! More than you ever could! And I -"

"You're doing such a great job manipulating Sera, Rumi."

She's so pretentious. She's so smug. She's so proud of herself. She thinks she knows me. She thinks she knows Sera. Sera is my friend, not hers. Sera spends the most time with me. Sera is mine.

She's mine, all mine. Mechi should give in. She's mine. She's not Mechi's, she's not Tyra's, she's not any of those stupid boys', she's definitely not Ozzie's. She's mine.

"That's why she's afraid," Mechi says, so quietly. I must have said all that out loud. I don't care. It's true. She knows it's true. And she knows she's lying.

Something breaks. Some restraint I was keeping, it's gone. She thinks she can say all that. All that without consequence. She thinks that because she's just oh so important, she can do whatever she wants.

I wasn't raised to take disrespect like that. I wasn't trained to tolerate attitude like hers. And I won't.

I strike her, hard. It knocks her over, and she cries out. I stand. She rubs the side of her face. She looks up at me. Where have I seen that expression before..?

I don't care. I don't care.

"Stand up," I snarl. She's afraid. She's cowering at my feet. She didn't expect to be hit.

Something tugs at me, at the back of my mind. I ignore it. I demand that Mechi stands up again. This time, she obeys. I hit her again. It doesn't... do as much this time.

I hit her with just as much force. I think.

I punch out at her again, but she brings her guard up and blocks it. I am abruptly reminded that Mechi has had nearly identical training to me. She sends a violent blow into my cheekbone, causing me to tear up.

I punch her in the teeth on my rebound. Her hand instinctively flies to her mouth. I take my opportunity and kick her knee, knocking her down.

I bring my own knee violently into her face.

It doesn't occur. So I bring my own knee violently into her face.

Don't I? She's at the perfect angle for it. It would probably break her nose. So I bring my own knee violently into her face.

But I don't. I stand. Useless. Mechi looks up at me. She swipes the back of her hand across her mouth, stepping up and away from me. Her face softens.

"I can tell you aren't trying," she says quietly. She doesn't even have a lisp. "You don't really want to hurt me. You're just angry."

"Shut up," I hiss. There's a good, cold fury in my voice. Mechi's expression is one of pity.

"You only did that because you hate that what I said was true."

How many times do I have to tell her? How many times do I need to bruise her? How many times do I need to split her lip?

She is a liar. I love Sera. I don't hurt her. I hate hurting her. I don't mean to. I mean it every time, and I regret it so much more every time. Something in me always whispers that she deserves it. Something in me is wrong. Some part of me is broken.

I must be doing something stupid with my face.

"You need to go talk to her. She loves you, Rumi. And you keep on breaking her heart," Mechi says, her voice weak and wavering. I mishear what she says next. I must've.

Because otherwise, Mechi just said that Sera is going to die.

Mechi wipes one of her eyes.

"I tried to talk her out of it. She said she didn't have a choice." Something icy spreads in my chest.

"She's rigged the Reaping, Rumi. For you. It's going to be her. I don't know why. She could have done anything else." Mechi is lying. Again. She must be lying. She must be. The ice creeps up my spine.

"Does she have a death wish?" I demand, although it's more desperate and pathetic and on the verge of tears than actually demanding. Mechi laughs, cold and hollow.

"Same thing I asked her," she mutters. "She didn't tell me. She just gave me this sad smile." I grab her, seizing her by the collar. The ice reaches my arms. I will not let go of her until she tells me the truth. Mechi reaches up to try to free herself, her hands landing on my wrists.

"I don't believe you," I hiss, more strangled than I would have liked it to be. It's true. I don't believe her. I won't believe her. I don't want to. Mechi shakes her head.

"It's what she told me, Rumi," she says, voice low.

My veins freeze over.

"It's my fault that she knew," Mechi says, shame colouring her face. "I overheard a guy we know, I forgot his name, bribing Papa to rig it to be you." Mechi squeezes my arms tighter.

"He accepted. Because he's shameless," she mutters angrily. "So I told Sera, because what else was I supposed to do? Let her watch you die?" she spits. Her words boil with anger and resentment.

"She got him to make it all her name," she says, some of the hate leaving her voice to make room for defeat. "He wouldn't listen to me when I asked him to just drop the whole thing."

Tears drip down her face as her posture weakens.

"He hates the Kaishurrs. He was basically being paid to kill one of them," she says. "I don't know what she's planning to stop you from volunteering, but Sera's smart. She's going to be in the Games." I release her, staggering back. I am cold. I am unnaturally cold, on this nice, warm morning.

The ocean laughs at me.

The ice does not release its horrible grip as my body starts to move. Mechi moves out of the way as the beach rushes past, the sand giving way to earth and the earth giving way to concrete.

My chest tightens. I can't breathe.

My feet carry me forward. I can't see. All I can hear is my heart hammering in my ears. And Mechi's awful words, echoing over and over again.

She's going to die. She's going to die. She's going to die. She's going to die, and it's my fault.

I can't go fast enough. My top speed is not fast enough. I am not strong enough. I can't save her. We're both going to drown.

Blood is spreading through the water like a grim plume. Rain is cutting into us like knives. I can't save her. I can't save her. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can't. I can'tIcan't. Ican'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan'tIcan't.

WhyisnobodyherewhyisnobodyhelpinguswhyisshenotbreathingwhyamIuselesswhyamIworthlesswhycan'tIsaveherwhywhywhywhywhypleasepleasepleaseI'msorryI'msosorrypleaseopenyoureyespleaseplease -

A scream tears at my throat, but it comes out as a stream of bubbles, and comes back in as suffocating, surrounding water. Every desperate, sprinted step hurts. Everything hurts. My clothes feel heavy. Seawater burns my eyes and nose.

We will drown. We will drown, and it is my fault. She hadn't insisted. I had a choice. We will die. I am drowning. I am drowning. I am drowning.

I can't breathe. I can hear the ocean. Crashing waves. Dragging me down with no remorse. No mercy. No care.

Water roars in my ears. It hates me. It's always hated me. It let me feel safe for a long time, so I'd let my guard down. So it could kill me. It's docile when I see it, when the sun shines.

It shows me its true nature when it storms. It shouts at me, comes for me, hungers for me.

I fear it. Not when I am not alone. It doesn't dare touch me when I am not alone. But I know how cruel it truly is. It hates.

It consumes me. It swallows me whole and does not notice. It does not care what it is doing to me. It does not care how it seeps the life from me.

I can't move fast enough.

She comes into focus. Her face. Her head. Her mouth. The blood around her. The blood on the docks.

She turns to face me. I see her eyes widen. Through my pain and my rain and my desperation, I see her.

My arms come around her body. We fall to the ground. The solid, dry ground. I fall into blood-spoiled blonde curls and the forever poisoned scent of petrichor and saltwater and rotting wood and blood and exposed bone and desperate screaming and tear stained cheeks and regret and pain and lasting injuries and warm nights and happy embraces and death and love and loss.

I'm sorry, I tell her. I'm so sorry.

[deanpinterester]

hi what

[musicismylife120191]

I can’t kill myself because I need to see Ice Nine Kills in concert again so I can see Your Number’s Up live.