#slight cursing

[glitzydiamondgrl]

List five things that make you happy, then put this in the inbox of the last ten people who reblogged something from you, get to know your mutuals and your followers

Ooh this sounds fun anyways;

My boyfriend

And my friends

The music I listen to (Britney Spears, Ice Spice, Lesley Gore, ABBA, No Doubt, Blondie, those are the main people/bands I listen to)

Fashion, and makeup, just girly things in general tbh

Life itself. Me fr 👇

#ask response #slight cursing #sorry not sorry

[taintedsoul-if]

Upcoming chapter.

Slight cursing up ahead. So beware.

Mi Sol means My Sun in English.

Faelyn is a nonbinary character that your MC dated in the past. At one point your narrative used the pronouns they. And then midway it was changed to he.

Meet a stranger in the bathroom.

Mi Sol, stop hiding from us." An husky voice said. The hair on the back of your neck stood on end.

"I'll scream." You blurted out impulsively. Fuck. Now they'll know, which cubicle you're in. Your hands shook, as you unzipped your bag.

What are you looking for?

Your.....

*fake_choice

#Dagger.

*set protectiongear "dagger"

This dagger, was a gift from your mother? You're unsure because ever since you've been young, you've always had this dagger. It was a double edged blade forged from sliver. It was about four to six inches long. There were strange inscriptions and drawing on the blade. The inscription was something, you couldn't understand, but the crest was something you felt a sense of familiarity with. You caressed the blade dazedly.

#Pepper spray.

*set protectiongear "pepper spray"

The crime rate in Austin Lake has skyrocketed. So as an alternative, Ada had made sure, that she gave you a paper bag full of pepper spray. When you had asked her why, she was giving you all this. She ended up nagging you until your ears bleed.

Fine beads of sweat rolled down your cheek.

The person on the other end of the door, didn't move. Your mouth was as dry as chip. You've not allowed yourself to think about this person, ever since things went south in your relationship. Why did they have to come back now? "F-Faelyn."

"Flith." The person responded, contemptuously.

Your body trembled.

"Mi Sol, haven't you played enough? Don't you think it is time, you returned home?"

Hope you all enjoy this sneak peak. I decided that I would use this weekend to look over what I've got so far for chapter one and maybe get some more typing done? I do hope y'all are enjoying you day. Then again it is the weekend, what's not to love. 😌

#bathroom scene? #snippet #stranger #Slight cursing #Upcoming chapter #tainted souls: fables&myths the bonded awakening #enjoy! ☺

[lythea-creation]

Broken Toys - Johanna Mason x fem reader (Chapter 5)

Chapter 1

Previous Chapter

word count: 2.060

----------

“Johanna? Why do you even want to do this?”, I asked her while getting ready for a special TV broadcast with Caesar Flickerman.

Finally I could choose my clothes myself and was not forced to be on TV.

“Snow tried forcing me into prostitution, too. I refused and now all the people I loved are gone.” These two sentences made me understand her a lot better. Though I feared even more now that Snow might harm my family after the TV broadcast.

“He will keep using you if you don't resist. And since you are a victor, your family will always be in danger. It's not a fairy tale that family members of victors often get reaped as well”, Johanna told me.

“That's not exactly helping”, I shot back nervously.

“Well. The world is cruel. Without fighting you can't win. Maybe Snow usually wins the battles, but we will win the war”, she declared confidently.

We set off toward the stage.

“Aren't you afraid that Snow will use us against each other?”, I questioned.

“He would do that anyway if he wanted to. No matter whether we are friends or a couple”, she shrugged it off.

She had some nerves.

“Ladies and Gentleman! Today we have a special broadcast with two of our recent and favorite victors! Let's welcome them with great applause! The victors of the 71st and 72nd Hunger Games! Johanna Mason from district 7 and (f/n) (l/n) from district 11!”, Caesar announced.

Johanna grabbed my hand and pulled me with her onto the stage, attempting to smile but ending up grinning.

I smiled brightly at the cheering audience and it was making me feel sick. They only cared about their entertainment, never considering the lives of the people behind the scenes.

Johanna and I sat down on the couch, close to each other of course.

Her hand was resting on my thigh, my hand laying over hers.

“So, Johanna. It's unusual for you to ask for such attention. What would you like to tell us today, so close after the 73rd Hunger Games?”, Caesar wondered.

“Sorry. We didn't want to steal Matthew's attention. But we will be going home soon and wanted to announce it as soon as possible, together at the Capitol”, I interjected.

“No, no. I'm sure, it's alright. What is it?”

Silence fell over the area. You could even hear an earring fall right now.

“(f/n) and I want to proclaim our relationship today. I'm happy to call her my girlfriend now”, Johanna stated.

Gasps were heard in the audience and soon everyone was babbling.

“Congratulations, you two! I didn't expect that, to be honest! How did it happen?”, Caesar shushed the audience.

They were curious.

“We came along right away. It was love at first sight”, I declared smiling lovingly at Johanna.

She grinned back at me and pulled me closer.

“Indeed”, Johanna agreed and closed the gap between us.

Everyone cheered.

“Such a lovely couple!”, Caesar exclaimed. “When did you meet for the first time? When did you know that you loved each other?”, Caesar continued the interview.

“We already saw each others Games. That was when she awakened my interest. When I saw her taking a break from talking to the sponsors, I followed her. Something inside of me just wanted to get to know her. When we first talked I knew something was off. I felt strange. At that time I didn't realize that I loved her. But the urge to be close to her remained and I used every chance I could get. When she was unsettled about something, I wanted to make her feel better. I had never felt like that before. But in that moment I noticed how much I wanted to make her happy and be with her as much as possible”, Johanna declared.

She kept looking between Caesar and me. Her words sounded so sincere that I almost believed them myself, although I knew it was just an act.

“And obviously it's reciprocated. (f/n) can't even take her eyes off of you”, Caesar noticed making me quickly avert eye contact, a blush adorning my face.

I had not even realized that I had been staring at Johanna.

The audience laughed. Some 'awww's could be heard.

“I guess I'm speaking for all of us if I say that we are happy that you're sharing your story with us”, Caesar changed the topic.

“Of course! We wouldn't want to keep any secrets from our lovely viewers”, Johanna exclaimed.

Luckily I managed to suppress my laughter at the irony.

They had no idea how provocative Johanna had been right now. In reality they did not understand anything, but just believed everything they were told. Had to be easy to trust so naively. At least until the truth came out.

It was beneficial for us as we could manipulate them and use them against Snow.

Suddenly I felt sympathy rise inside of me. The citizens of the Capitol were nothing more than dolls. They moved depending on the strings the celebrities decided to pull, not even noticing that there movements were being controlled.

“We are definitely grateful for that and excited to see how your relationship is going to develop”, Caesar declared.

“Yes. I immediately wanted to show you that (f/n) belongs to me. So no one is working up false hopes of snatching her away”, Johanna stated grinning.

Her arm was slung around my waist.

“Though there is one problem. We are living in different districts and moving isn't an option right now. It would be horrible to only see each other at the Capitol. I wish we could at least use the train”, I pointed out sadly.

A loud discussion erupted among the audience.

“I'm sure we will find a solution for that. We would be furious if Snow did not allow them to visit each other, right?”

Caesar got loud approval from the crowd.

“Thank you! You are the best!” I smiled brightly. “But we would like to use the rest of our time here together to its fullest. Would it be alright if we left now?”, I asked.

“Of course. We don't want to hold you back. Enjoy your time and keep us up to date”, Caesar requested.

“Sure”, Johanna agreed and pulled me up with her.

We left the stage, holding hands as the audience cheered us on. We stayed like that until we reached the apartment where we let us fall onto Johanna's bed.

“That was exhausting!” I sighed.

“True”, she agreed.

“Though you were extremely credibly. I almost believed your words myself”, I admitted.

Johanna started laughing. “I don't know about you, but I'm going to sleep now. Those idiots absorbed all my energy.”

I hesitated.

“What? Wanna keep on the act and sleep beside me or what?”, she joked.

“Would you mind?” I blushed deeply at my question.

I had not been able to stop my mouth from saying those words out loud. But the thought of possible nightmares bothered me even more than my embarrassment.

My request had taken Johanna off guard and made her speechless. This was the first time I experienced her being that way.

“At home I'm usually sharing a bed with my sister Rue. If you don't want to, it's alright. I don't want to bother you.”

Johanna's grin returned. “No, I just didn't expect you to … ya know. Never mind! Just make yourself comfortable. It's not like I care.”

I sighed and snuggled under the blanket. None of us was energetic enough to get a second one or to even change clothes.

I had not slept properly since I had left district 11 about three weeks ago. So falling asleep was not a problem. It was rather the part of staying asleep that was bothering me. I was afraid of getting another nightmare and hence held onto my necklace.

Suddenly Johanna turned around and pulled me toward her. How had she fallen asleep so quickly? Although I had to admit that being close to her made me feel safe right now. And that was exactly what I had needed to fall into a peaceful and relaxing sleep.

“(f/n).” Johanna's voice and surprisingly gentle shaking ripped me out of my sleep. “Geez! You could have slept through a tornado! Get off! My bladder is about to burst if you don't move!”

Confusion filled me in my sleepy state until I noticed that I was laying on Johanna's arm/shoulder.

I quickly sat up. Apparently too quickly as my vision got blurry for a moment.

Johanna did not waste a second to hurry toward the bathroom.

A smile crept onto my face. She had obviously waited far too long for me to wake up instead of waking me up herself.

A look at the clock told me that it was already one pm. Seemed like I had caught up some of the lost sleep of the last weeks.

I decided to call my family to check up on them.

“Why didn't you tell me that you wanted to stay because of your new girlfriend?”, Rue immediately asked me when she noticed it was me.

“Sorry. Everything and everyone is going crazy over here. I will tell you some details when I'm back”, I promised. “How are things going at home? Are you all doing fine?”, I reassured.

“Yes, same as usual”, Rue soothed me without realizing.

“Okay. I will be back in about a week. I love you, Rue.”

I felt like I could see her cute smile through the phone.

“I love you, too”, she said and hung up.

“How cute”, Johanna stated sarcastically.

“Don't mess with my family”, I half-joked.

She frowned and put her hands up in a surrendering manner. “Alright.”

Soon her frown was replaced by her signature grin. “Anything in particular you wanna do today?”, she wondered.

“No, not really ... except eating a lot of this amazing food.” I laughed slightly.

“They have all kinds of luxury. Have you ever played video games?”

“What's that?”

Johanna laughed. “Then, it's settled. You can't decline.”

Apparently I liked video games and was how Johanna put it: a natural. I did not just get to know many different games but also a lot of district 7's cursing.

After some hours Johanna threw her controller away. “Are you kidding me? You had to be lying about never having played video games before! You beat me in every fucking game!”

“No! I'm an honest person”, I insisted.

“You are fooling the whole Capitol”, she reminded me.

“I'm mostly an honest person”, I corrected myself.

Johanna shook her head, grinning again.

“But now that I'm thinking about it. Every victor, even every tribute has their own way of presenting themselves to the Capitol. Finnick even has kind of another identity. If you ask me the playboy role doesn't suit him. You are provocative and challenging. Matthew is brutal and smart. What is my style?”, I wondered.

Johanna stayed silent for a moment. “You are the cute, natural type. If you hadn't pulled that totally badass move of killing the boy with the arrow, you would have seemed absolutely innocent.”

“Yeah, may be”, I agreed.

I picked up Johanna's controller. “Wanna call it a day?”, I asked her referring to the video games. “Not until I beat you”, Johanna shot back.

We played the whole day.

It was fun to hang out with Johanna. Every day we tried something different and from time to time we did something together in public on purpose.

It was annoying that everyone was staring at us. We were some kind of entertainment for them. Of course we were. Victors were nothing more than an entertainment program to them.

“Do you want me to say farewell now?”, Johanna joked as we had to part ways at the train station.

I laughed at her words. “No, but don't forget to call me”, I reminded her.

She patted my head teasingly. “As if I would.”

I sent her a last smile before entering the train.

Next Chapter

#broken toys #the hunger games #johanna mason x fem reader #lgbtqia + #angst #romance #fluff #coriolanus snow #rue #capitol #caesar flickerman #video games #slight cursing

[yourlocalenbyreblogs]

i love having tumblr mutuals bc its like "girl idfk what you're talking about but ill be damned if that's not a Little Guy"

#ethan rambles #hi zora love you #does this even make sense #probably #slight cursing

[koa-z]

inspired by a post by @nunalastor wherein cursed cat alastor™ inexplicably loves Lucifer

#hazbin hotel #lucifer hazbin hotel #alastor #cursed cat alastor #charlie morningstar #vaggie #hazbin hotel meme #hazbin hotel fanart #I've been wanting to make fanart for this fandom for y e a r s now #and of fucking course the first thing I actually finish is a fucking meme #alastor hazbin hotel #if you saw all of the slight edits i made in the first second after uploading #no you didnt

[yourlocalenbyloser]

yeaaa can i get a fuckin uh *ancient chanting* yea thatll be right up for ya *walks away muttering in ancient language with glowing eyes*

#cursing #slight cursing

[bluehairperson]

I'm not immune to propaganda 😔

#5e strahd? I don't know that bitch that's not my man #sorry ireena he's my cringe fail homie he's my bro he's my middle aged riddled by syndromes fam #please read that damn book it's so good #it's so good in fact that I'm using that as tome of strahd in my campaign #with slight fixes obviously but still #a++ characterization #I would advise it to anyone even if you don't know anything about curse of strahd or dnd in general honestly #curse of strahd #strahd von zarovich #my art #totally not have been obsessing over it since july or anything

[icantdothistodaybruh]

#tw gore #very slight but still?? #I can't get past the sketching stage it's like a curse #but it's either that or nothing at all #btw don't mind the extra rib it's only now that I've noticed it ugghghg #sebaciel #kuroshitsuji #black butler #our ciel #ciel phantomhive #sebastian michaelis #my art #sketch

[really-fucked-up-stimboards]

Happy birthday Gavin! stimboard

| + | + | + |

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#just a regular stimboard for today #happy birthday gavin #stimboard #shitpost #stim #cursed stim #slight tw food

[lets-try-some-writing]

Time Locked: Snippet #1

Did you lot think I only had one WIP? Nah, I got more. And again, its shipping angst. Well its not nearly as bad as the other, and this one has a happier ending, but nonetheless, its a kinda sorta angsty thing.

Enjoy. Ratchet has been the muse as of late and I have no intention of stopping it.

━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙ ━━━━━━━━━━━━ ⊙ ❖ ⊙

Arrogance was his downfall. He saw himself as above his fellows. He thought nothing could stop him. For vorns he studied, dragging himself from the bottom rungs of society up to the lofty position of CMO. He was on top of the world, known around the planet and respected for his unparalleled skill in medicine. He hardly ever lost a patient, and when he did, it was because of the incompetence of others and a lack of additional servos.

He had no doubts about his abilities. Why would he? 

Of course his fellows were not fond of him, but what did their opinions matter? His achievements spoke for themselves. He needed no aid, nor did he need to adhere to their thoughts on the happenings in his hospitals. He was the greatest Doctor on the planet, and he had his rank to prove it. Even the Quintessons acknowledged his skill, to which Ratchet always tended to scoff.

He knew he was the best in his field. He had all but killed himself in an effort to study to reach his place. Forging friendships was useless, a waste of time. Being delicate and soft with patients was ridiculous. He had better things to do, more cases to look over. Patience was not something he could afford, and pride kept him firmly above the criticism thrown his way. He was young, but he was no fool. He knew his worth and he would flaunt it. He had long ago earned the right to be a little arrogant after all the work he put in.

When the Council called him to assist in what they called ‘Project Regen’, Ratchet had no concerns. They were testing a new type of portal and wanted him there to scan the unlucky fool being sent through. He got in his gear, stood behind the protective glass, and waited for the project to activate. 

Something went wrong with the controls and the portal wasn’t activating. The original tester stepped away to figure out what was wrong and Ratchet sighed. He had better things to do than stand around. There was work to be done. Thus, he didn’t think twice about stepping out from his protective vantage point so that he could march across the lab and leave.

That was the biggest mistake of his entire functioning.

Just as he stepped into the open, the portal bloomed to life. The stabilizers promptly failed, and Ratchet, along with a few assorted items, were dragged into the portal. He only had time to scream before his world began a mess of color and the portal exploded around him. Darkness surrounded him, and within that void, he heard a chorus of voices speak in perfect synchronization.

“You who sit yourself upon your throne of pride, the will of the world condemns you.”

The voice echoed all around him, digging into his very core like frigid ice. He wanted to scream as invisible blades cut into him, marking his very essence with a brand he instinctively sensed as it burned itself into place.

“There is a part you still must play, but no longer shall you wander freely. Arrogance has corrupted your spark and disdain for your fellow children of Primus has broken your purity.”

Chains dug into him, binding him on a fundamental level in ways he failed to comprehend. 

“No longer shall this world be yours to command. Only those who seek you shall find your domain. Time shall be your tormentor and eventually, your savior.”

Ratchet tried to cry out, but as the voice deafened and dug into him, he was met with blinding light instead of any sort of relief. When he came to himself again, he was within the ruins of a devastated building, long since burned to ash. 

“What in the Allspark…” He wheezed as he stood. It took a moment, but it was clear he was within the remains of the facility. Distortion in the portal evidently caused some sort of long scale warp, perhaps redirecting him and leaving him in the void for a time. He was no expert on portals and their workings, but that was the most logical assumption he could come to. He was going to sue the Council to the pits and back for this mess. 

Something had gone wrong, and now left in the middle of nowhere, he needed to get back to civilization and make sure everything was as he left it. The facility had been located about a cycle out from Iacon, a safe distance from any civilians who could be caught up in a blast if things went south. It wouldn’t be a far walk. Ratchet had endured worse coming out of Polyhex and traversing the wilds during the early cycles of the Quintessons occupation of Cybertron. 

He wrote off the voice that spoke to him in the void as he gathered his bearings, and marched toward the edge of the burned remains of the facility. Most of the structure had already fallen to pieces, with only a few pillars and pieces of wall jutting out from where nature had already begun its reclamation. Ratchet cursed as he noted at least a vorn’s worth of crystal growth from the sprouting spires. The Council was never going to hear the end of this. He wouldn’t let them walk off scott free after such a horrific accident. Being absent from his position for a whole vorn had likely had him written off as dead. 

“Those absolute fraggers! I better receive the best compensation the planet has to offer after all this!” He growled as he quickened his stride, moving without regard for everything else as he contemplated how to get back at the Council. However, the closer he came to the edge of the fallout zone, the heavier his limbs began to feel. He tried to write it off, but every single step grew harder to handle. His vision began to falter, and before he knew it, just as he reached the edge of where the last crystal had begun to grow, he fell to his knees in unnatural exhaustion. 

“This… isn’t right…” He managed to choke out as he looked down at his shaking servos through blurred optics. His servos never shook. Why was he shaking? Everything felt so fuzzy, his limbs so heavy they were impossible to ignore. He could only withstand it for a moment longer before he fell face down on the ground, recharge pulling at his very spark.

Darkness again claimed him, and in what felt like a mere nanoklik, he found himself again back in the center of the ruins, surrounded by crystals and other flora that had grown an exceptional amount. Panic grew within him as he frantically tried to access his comms only to be met with static. His internal chronometer was a mess of ever changing numbers and all of his system alerts were just a string of errors. Whatever the portal did was far worse than he anticipated. 

He got up and tried to run out of the ruins once more, but again the exhaustion forced him to fall and recharge consumed him. He woke again in the center of the ruins, once more finding the flora around him to have grown dramatically larger and more prolific. It had to be a dream, a horrible and fragged up dream. And yet as he looked up at the sky, desperate for some sort of reference for time, he could only shake in pure shock.

Luna 1 had turned three degrees, and Luna 2 was already through its fifth rotation. Three vorns, it had been three whole vorns. The moons did not lie in that regard and Ratchet was sure his optics weren’t lying. He grew up in the middle of nowhere, he knew how to tell time from the moons. Somehow, be it due to the portal or whatever that voice was, Ratchet was stuck within the ruins.

He tried again and again to leave the ruins. Every attempt ended in failure. But through his efforts, he learned the rules of his newfound confinement. 

He could not step beyond the bounds of the farthest crystal spire without being pulled into the void that was recharge. He tested the limits, edging closer to the border and calculating how long it took him until he fell through marks on his armor. Those marks always vanished when he woke, along with any other injuries he obtained during his tests. At one point, he stabbed himself with a piece of the nearest crystal spire just to confirm his theories. When recharge took him, he awoke good as new once more.

He attempted calling for aid several times, but nothing he did proved successful. His internal systems were totally useless. All he had was his medical coding and the basics needed to keep going. Anything that gave him range was offline, and when he tried to get attention from anyone by building a haphazard SOS sign, he found out about yet another rule regarding his situation.

He spent the whole cycle building his sign, hopeful that all would go well now that he knew he could not leave without causing time to pass around him. He was wrong. As soon as darkness set in, that same pull that overcame him when he went too close to the border dragged him into recharge. And just like every time he went to the border, when he woke, the moons had turned and another vorn had passed. His sign was destroyed by time and plant life. He could not escape, nor did he find himself able to live out more than a full cycle without the void recalling him.

The words that he heard played in his mind more frequently as his surroundings changed and he remained all but completely static. He only had a single cycle each vorn to do what he could, and so he used that singular cycle to build what he hoped would one day become something permanent enough to aid him. He did his best with what limited time he had to guide the crystal spires so that a few would grow into more platformed shapes, giving him a decent vantage point from which to observe the cities in the distance. His SOS sign had proved fruitless, and while he tried to write it off as a byproduct of his location, in the end he couldn’t help but partially blame his fate on the words spoken to him when the portal consumed him.

His domain could only be found by those who sought him out. He wanted to curse as the words spoken to him became more and more apparent as being true in some form. He caught sight of shuttles flying over his garden more than once, but even when he finally guided the plants around him to grow into a vaguely organized shape to hopefully draw attention to his situation, not a spark paused to come see what was happening. 

 Perhaps due to the phenomenon that kept him bound to his location, a garden had flourished in his prison. Spires rose high into the sky, wiry vines pulsing with energon crawled along them, solarium bushes with leaves reaching up toward the sky like blooming stars, and so much more all grew around him. Most notable, a techtite tree grew around where Ratchet always woke up. Its roots ran deep and developed in an almost protective manner around Ratchet’s resting place, shielding him from wind and rain with mighty branches and long hanging branches that glowed when the skies grew dark.

He was no gardener, but by Primus he threw everything he had into trying to learn if only so that someone, anyone, would come to save him from his living torment. He could see the cities growing, he could see the world changing, and yet he was locked in his little pocket. He could not leave, nor could he age significantly. He had his garden, his anger, and enough determination to burn a world to keep him company. Despite the growth all around him, no creatures wandered his garden. He was alone.

Somehow, that was more frightening and spark breaking than the idea of dying.

He did everything to try and find a way out, but the borders never grew and he never had nearly enough time to build anything of use. Time was his enemy and his jailer. And as the world passed him by, he could only wait beneath the cover of his garden and pray that someone would come to get him out since obviously, he was unable to do so himself.

He waited.

And waited.

Vorns were counted with marks on the crystal spires, records being kept in the only way he knew how as he bitterly endured his torment. A few passed by his gardens, some drawing near enough to see him before moving on in a hurry. Nothing was ever enough to free him from his prison. All he had was himself, his garden, and his thoughts.

There was no escape, and as much as it hurt him to accept that, it was the truth. He was trapped, and the most he could hope for was to hear another mech’s voice. If Ratchet, the best doctor on Cybertron, was unable to find a way out of his situation, Primus knew if any other could. His expectations were lowered, and with every vorn that passed, he stopped wishing for freedom and more so for someone to talk to. He wanted to know about the world and hear about the changes outside.

He just wanted to hear the voice of another…

Eventually, after what he counted to be six hundred and seventy two waking cycles trapped in his prison, someone finally found his domain. The sheer joy he felt was beyond description when a mech of red and blue curiously wandered his garden.

━━━━━

“Hello? Is this your property? If I have intruded, I apologize.” Ratchet stood up from where he was seated below his techtite tree. His optics were wide and coolant threatened to gather there before he scrubbed his face and schooled himself. There was a real mech in front of him, an actual person.

“Your garden is quite lovely. You take excellent care of it.” The mech, a tall red and blue civilian, smiled slightly awkwardly as he stepped further into the garden. Ratchet reset his audials and optics a few times before he smiled and gestured for the mech to continue forward.

“Thank you. I have had little else to occupy myself with over the vorns. My domain… requires constant attention.” Ratchet settled on commenting as the mech drew near enough that he stood underneath the tree alongside Ratchet. The mech’s optics were wide, but not overly so as he curiously examined the space. Ratchet all but shook with excitement as he tried to keep himself in line long enough to not scare the mech off.

He had so many questions, so much he wished to know. How much had the world changed in his absence? Surely he had long been written off as dead, but he had to have left a legacy.

“My designation is Ratchet, formerly one of the greatest Doctors on Cybertron. I received my education in Iacon central and my caste designation is MID-MEDICAL-298.” Ratchet blurted out as he held out his servo in what he hoped was a friendly manner. He never was good with socializing, and while he tried to smile, he most likely held a slightly less aggressive frown than usual. 

“I am Orion Pax of Iacon, a data clerk in the Hall of Records and serving under Alpha Trion. Your caste designation is… unique.” Orion Pax’s helm tilted ever so slightly and his finials twitched as he shook Ratchet’s servo. An archivist was in Ratchet’s garden. There could have been no better mech to give him information.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve left this place. You are the first mech who I have spoken to in vorns.” Ratchet quipped somewhat sharply before internally kicking himself. He needed this mech, he couldn’t afford to drive him off now. 

“That would explain your attitude.” Pax noted as if he were observing the weather. Ratchet frowned at the tone but did not comment as he settled down on the ground against the trunk of the tree, gesturing for Orion to do the same. 

“Good that you understand. Now, if you don’t mind, I would like to know about all that has happened within the last few dozen vorns back in Iacon. A data clerk would have access to such information, am I correct?” Ratchet tried to hide the desperation in his tone, but he was unsure if he succeeded. Orion observed him in silence for a long klik before slowly settling down onto the ground beside him, the archivist’s long legs brought up close to his chassis in order to not get caught on the roots.

“You are not particularly polite, but I will adhere to your request. The garden is pleasant enough.” Ratchet scoffed as Orion’s words reached him. Data caste mechs were usually soft creatures. But it seemed this one had some spine. Out of all the things that had likely changed, Ratchet could find it within himself to be fond of this particular shift in trends.

“There is plenty to cover, but luckily for the both of us, today is my cycle off.” A certain light entered Orion’s optics as he dove into the most recent changes in Iacon. Most of it was so strange that Ratchet had no idea what was being said. Cultural differences he no longer knew and government officials he was totally unaware of were apparently huge players in the new world. Still, he listened with rapt attention as Orion spoke and quickly found himself wrapped in the mech’s voice.

Orion, despite the hint of snark that laced his tone off and on, had a pleasant voice. It was almost too easy to lose track of time. It was only as shadows began to creep that Ratchet interrupted the archivist to put forward what he hoped did not sound too much like a desperate plea.

“My time here is almost up. However, I wish to know more. If you have the time, please, come here again on this cycle one vorn from now. That is the only time I will be able to interact with you as I am now.” Ratchet’s voice took on a pleading undertone despite his best efforts. The archivist looked at him strangely but ultimately nodded as he stood. Ratchet sagged in relief as Orion flipped open some sort of device on his forearm and imputed what Ratchet hoped was a reminder.

“Odd as you are, I have enjoyed this interaction. I shall see you next vorn Ratchet. Perhaps you will elaborate more on your inability to converse at other times during our next meeting.” As it was, Ratchet was willing to give an arm and a leg for Orion to come back to speak to him. He nodded and bid Orion farewell quietly as he watched the light of the nearest star fade. Exhaustion that he knew all too well began to overcome his will, but as it did, he found himself hopeful.

Someone had found him in his prison. If Orion kept his promise, then Ratchet would at least have no information to mull over in his ever static environment.

#transformers #maccadam #transformers prime #ratchet #orion pax #pre war cybertron #alternate universe #curses #fanfiction #fanfiction snippet #optiratch #slight angst

[maxipad031]

you’re scaring me, p1

part 2 synopsis: shuri’s isolating herself because of her losses so you go to confront her but it’s no use, everything just gets worse and she’s left on her own, again.

contains: cursing, angst, slight violence, crying, toxic shuri x black reader

a/n - usana - baby

your eyes fluttered open as they sensed the strong light rays peeking through the purple velvet curtains. you smiled to yourself, stretching your cramped limbs as you had such an amazing sleep last night, but that moment of happiness was ripped away as you realized that you were were alone in the bed yet again. there was no extra warmth besides you anymore since you’d been sleeping alone for more days than you could remember because of shuri’s strong habit of keeping herself locked in the lab and not coming out unless she needed new materials.

you were honestly getting sick and tired of her growing neglectful behaviour; it was as if she entirely forgot she was in a relationship with you. however, you could not put her fully to blame as the havoc wreaked by namor on wakanda following the grieving of her mothers death would be enough to put anyone in a downwards spiral of isolation. she probably felt immense pressure to protect wakanda by any means possible after the fight was over, but us and the talokans are alliances now so why was she overworking herself? shuri’s character never failed to confuse you but her unpredictable nature was also what made you attracted to her in the first place. you wanted to help her deal with her conflicting emotions but she made it so difficult for you to the point where she out rightly told you leave her alone, so you did.

that was about a week ago, and you missed shuri greatly, you couldn’t keep ignoring her anymore even though she asked you to. you deeply sighed, and leaned over, taking your phone off charge and bringing it in front of you. whilst it came on, you adjusted your silk bonnet as it was literally hanging off your head and yawned, staring sadly at the empty side of the bed. soon, your phone switched on, 11:35am it read. you did your normal routine of scrolling through social media and seeing what was new in wakanda but you got bored quickly as your mind was preoccupied with desperately wanting to communicate with shuri. you snatched your kimoyo beads from the drawer and placed them on your small wrist, watching as it whirred to life. then, you skilfully pressed the setting where it allowed you to call shuri and waited as it rang.

again no reply.

trying plan b, you took your phone and navigated to shuri’s contact number. you pressed on messages and sent the following text.

you: hey shuri, i’m making your favourite dinner later.

you: come to the royal dining room at 6pm, i really want to see you usana.”

you weren’t sure if shuri was eating properly and you wanted to make her a proper meal as well as celebrate something with her. with that, you set your phone to the side, internally praying to the ancestors that she bothered to reply. you loved shuri with your whole heart, you really did, but this was getting out of hand. ready for the day ahead, you slipped out of the soft sheets and walked towards the bathroom. you were getting ready to head to the market so you could gather the ingredients for what you planned to cook later. you just hoped you weren’t wasting your time.

~~~

you huffed and threw the many bags of groceries you were carrying. the dora offered to help but it wasn’t much, you could do it on your own. you took out your airpods that were blasting sza’s kill bill and rested them on the marble counter.

you may actually kill shuri at this point, your impatience with her was steadily growing. speaking of her, you checked to see if she’d replied to your text earlier, but what were you met with?

yeah, no bloody reply but you were left on read? oh hell no, you weren’t doing this with her. you just went to buy all this, the least she could do is give you an answer. was she even alive? what’s the point in cooking if she wasn’t going to eat it. mad and annoyed as shit, you slammed your poor phone onto the counter, scratching your forehead. she’ll see you today whether she liked it or not.

you abandoned the bags of food and made your way to her lab; your face was a fixed scowl and everyone you walked past looked back at you in worry as they wondered what made you so angry. you walked with purpose as you turned many corners to where you knew shuri was holing up in. as expected, some of the dora milaje were guarding the lab. you walked up to them and sighed as they intensely stared at you.

“i’m sorry, i need to see the queen right this instant.” you demanded, tapping your foot in irritation.

they looked at each other and back at you,

“i’m sorry, the queen has requested no one to be let in, even you.” ayo said, slightly smirking at that last part.

god, you knew she always disliked you.

“okay then, you all leave me no choice.” you unexpectedly ran into the door they were guarding, leaving them no time to put their spears up and deny you access without hurting you. you successfully managed to get the door open and there she was, in deep concentration as she leaned over what seemed like a special heart shaped herb.

her eyes snapped up to meet yours and she sighed, “what are you doing here y/n?” she asked, annoyance clearly evident in her tone as she paused her testing to temporarily look at the commotion you caused.

“sorry my queen,” ayo started but shuri dismissed her, “it’s okay, just give us some privacy.”

ayo nodded and shut the lab door once again.

“i should be asking you that question, do you even realise how long you’ve been here?” you yelled, anger clouding over your thoughts.

shuri didn’t reply, not looking at you.

“what day is it shuri?” you asked, slightly whimpering as you saw her lack of concern for your feelings.

“wednesday?” she replied nonchalantly, transferring something to a test tube.

“it’s sunday, our two year anniversary.” you replied, shaking your head in sheer disappointment and on the verge of tears.

shuri’s expression softened as she remembered but hardened again as she snatched her scientific glasses off, giving you a stern look.

“look, i know you want to come in here and lecture me but i really couldn’t fucking care less, i have stuff to do.” she put them back on and turned away from you, switching things around on her intercom.

“fuck you, you piece of shit.” you spat, your eyes watering as you tried not to break down in front of her.

shuri stopped her actions, you never swore so much at her unless it was in the bedroom.

“yeah, i fucking said that, look at me shuri godammit!” you shouted, walking towards her as she slowly turned around to finally give you eye contact.

“is it illegal to want to be near you? honestly, what the fuck is wrong with you?” you were so confused and hurt, why couldn’t shuri just talk to you instead of pushing you away like a coward.

“you keep on disturbing me and it’s getting annoying.” she said dryly, static with her emotions as she stared down at you.

“yeah?” you took off your kimoyo beads and dropped them to the floor, crushing them to the point where they didn’t function anymore.

“i won’t disturb you again.” you turned around to walk away but she grabbed your arm. you were already annoyed and she was doing nothing to help so you simply used both of your hands on the sides of her chest to push her away. she barely moved because she was so strong but it was to show her than she can’t control you anymore.

“i don’t know what’s going on with you, but it’s better we part ways if you think acting like this is okay.” you wouldn’t let your love for shuri blind you, not again, this was your last straw.

“fucking hell.” shuri turned around punched a manneqin next to her and it went flying toward the wall behind, causing you to jump back in shock at the loud noise it made. stressed, she rubbed her face with both her hands and grabbed your shoulders with a hefty grip.

“you can’t leave me y/n, everyone does, i’m tired.” she looked away from you to suppress any tears threatening do escape.

you sorrowfully looked at her, feeling and seeing every ounce of her pain and misery was ripping your heart out of your chest but this was for you, you couldn’t stay with her if this was how she treated you.“try me.” you tried not to fall into her trap again and slapped her hands off your shoulders as your sadness transformed itself nicely into anger due to the rememberance of all the hurt that she’d caused you. you then looked at her table filled with papers and metal scraps, and you didn’t know what came over you, but you were seeing straight red at this point and so acted spontaneously, swiftly using your right arm to clear everything as it all went crashing to the ground,

“fuck you, fuck you, fuck you,” you repeated, purposely destroying things you knew she’d worked hard on but you couldn’t care less, this is what she deserves for treating you like you’re worth nothing, like you deserve no love. panicked, shuri grabbed your sleeve, “y/n! stop this!” she yelled but you strongly pushed her away as you continuted to do your worst, ripping blueprints snd damaging everything you could see. your pent up anger was just spilling all over the place, you could barely control it.

“stop!” she yelled in vexation as she attempted to grab your wrists to stop you, but you weren’t having any of it and pushed her away every time until eventually, your anger shifted and you harshly slapped shuri across the face, leaving a discreet but noticeable mark,

“stop fucking touching me, i swear to god maybe namor should’ve just sank all of wakanda, then you would probably learn.” you shamelessly said, pointing your finger at her as your left eye twitched with malice and your heart racing; you realised your words were quite harsh but if that’s what it took to make shuri realise her self destructive behaviour, then so be it.

her hand felt the place you just slapped her at and she slowly looked up at you in disbelief from what you just uttered. your anger was clearing up and you’d finally realised what you’d done. your facial expression softened and you looked at shuri, reaching out to feel the mark “no, i’m sorr-

before you could finish your sentence, shuri dodged your advances and roughly grabbed your shirt collar, slamming you down onto the hard glass lab table, with such force you thought your head was going to explode, and leaned over you.

“are you fucking kidding me y/n? how dare you speak to me like that, do you have any idea what i’ve been through? you don’t know me, stop pretending like you do.” shuri angrily scolded you as she pushed down onto your collar, unaware she was simultaneously pushing down on your neck. the strength she had from the heart shaped herb was 100x yours, and she could break you like a twig if she wanted to.

“s-sorry…” you croaked out weakly, putting your hand around her hand and trying to move them away as your airways were being more and more restricted.

she just stared at you, no warmth in her eyes or admiration like there once was, just coldness, nothing that could back up her previous love for you.

“shuri..i can’t bre-breathe.” you struggled to escape her hold and tapped her hands softly as you started to feel your energy slowly dissipating.

“shit.” she snapped out of whatever trance she was in as she realized she was causing you bodily harm and hurriedly let go of you, causing you to immediately sink onto the chilly ground, coughing and spluttering as you tried desperately to regain the air you didn’t get.

“y/n..” shuri stared at her hands like she couldn’t believe what she’d just done to you, and looked at you on the ground, still struggling. she fell onto her knees and attempted to put an arm around you but you immediately flinched at her touched and scooted away as your hand held your hurting neck. you were visibly shaken up and scared of what just happened and you didn’t want her touching you at all.

“i didn’t mean to do that.” she said, a subtle tremble in her voice, “let me see.” she demanded, trying to lift your hand from your neck but you backed away once again,

“don’t touch me, please you’re scaring me.” you never thought a day in your life that you’d fear shuri, the women you loved for so long but this wasn’t shuri, no this was someone completely different and you wanted no part of this. you didn’t know where the affectionate shuri you once knew went, but this was not her.

“y/n..baby, please.” she watched as you got up, tears streaming down your face as you knew your relationship was now in complete shambles. shuri was hurt seeing you hurt and even more so knowing it was because of her. you wiped your salty tears with your sleeve and rapidly left the lab in distress, never wanting to come back again.

shuri stared at the mess littered in front of her and then at the door you’d just left from.

alone.

once again, everyone’s left her.

#mcu shuri #shuri udaku #black panther #shuri #shuri x black!reader #shuri x reader #shuri fic #wakanda forever #black panther wakanda forvever spoilers #angst #shuri angst #tw slight cursing #screaming crying throwing up #wlw #lesbian #wlw angst #maxipadoriginals

[theknightmarket]

"We've made it this far."

In which the Engineer and the captain are released from the effects of the wormhole, as they've always wanted. TW: cursing, angst, slight reference to gore Pages: 26 - Words: 9,500

[Requests: OPEN]

“Please, just hold on.” 

After dying so many times, it was weird to be on the edge of it. You’d tossed yourself off the cliff enough to memorize the feeling of falling, of becoming weightless and letting everything go – like a kind of acceptance, even if you were going not of your own volition. It had always been okay, though, because you’d come back seconds later, spat back up from a raging ocean with salt and spray into the arms of that cryo-pod. 

“I can get you out of here, don’t worry, I can do it.” 

But this time, you were looking down, your feet on the ground and the water seeming so far away. You had to make the choice now, of staying on that crumbling cliff, battled by the wind, and forced to stare straight at the fate you were faced with, or letting your feet shift and lose traction. 

“Come on, please, I know you can do it.” 

In theory, it was an easy decision, but you didn’t want to have to work for it anymore. You had done the hard part, the surviving at the peak, and now, you knew that this would be the last time. It wasn’t as though you could take a step back; you would always be watching the tips of the waves snap at you. You didn’t want to watch anymore.

You croaked out a simple, “Mark…” 

Your faithful engineer, kneeled at your side, likely for the last time. He wasn’t going to fall. He couldn’t. 

“No, no, please, don’t do that, just a little longer,” his pleads reached your ears well, but you forced yourself to ignore them, “our medics will be here, just wait.”

“Mark, I can’t.”

“No, you can, you have to!” Guilt tapped at the edge of your mind, you didn’t let it in, and it stayed right where it was. “Please.”

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. You were. You really were. 

“Come on, the- the colony haven’t said goodbye, the crew…” His thought went unfinished, but you understood him. You always did, even when he didn’t understand himself. You were half sure he didn’t know what he was saying, the panic and dread overwhelming him in a fight for majority. 

You assured him, “They’ll be fine.”

“Not without you.” 

“Mark, look,” a cough wracked your upper body like an earthquake, “look at it all, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

You were so damn proud of him, of the whole ship, of everything. You never told him directly, so you could only hope he knew. It would make this whole thing easier if he knew that you were proud of him, that you trusted him. He’d be easier on himself.

“Not far enough! We still have more to do, we- we can’t do it without you. You’re our captain.” A distant memory from just a few days before floated to the forefront of your mind. It was hazy, corrupted by the pain, but it was there. “You’re my captain.”

A deep breath in, as far as the pressure would allow you, before you whispered, “You built the ship, you hired the crew, you fixed the warp-core.” 

And suddenly you wished that you hadn’t been able to take that breath – that you had stayed silent and let the moment envelop you. The spark of realisation that you cherished in Mark’s eyes dug a pit in your stomach. 

“No,” was all you could say with what little energy you had left.

“But—”

“Uh-uh. Not this time.” 

You couldn’t, he couldn’t, neither of you would be able to handle another round of what you went through together. That quality of stubbornness you both possessed would surely fail you, abandoning you to the madness of eternity, worse if you failed.

“Why not!? I know how to do it, and we know how to fix it.”

“We got off on chance, you’re not trying that again, Mark, I can’t—”

Shit. That little energy was becoming smaller and smaller, but neither did you have it in you to let Mark create another wormhole. You couldn’t live with yourself if he gave you a second chance. 

“I’m not losing you,” you muttered, “and, yeah, I know how ironic that is.” 

You wanted to laugh, but all that burning the candle at both ends was catching up to you. The numbness that had crept up on your legs hours ago was lurching onto your torso. It wouldn’t be long before it was biting through your arms and neck, and you wouldn’t be aware of it when it reached your temple. 

“So, hey, just… just give me this. Please?”

The look in his eyes washed away. Leaving Mark like this was not your plan, but when had the universe ever listened to you? You could be thankful that you hadn’t gone insane in a place lightyears from your home, that Mark was not leaving you. You admitted that it was a selfish thought, but you didn’t think you could keep going if you lost him. You’d fought hard, but now you were done fighting. You knew he could do it for you.

And so did he. It was a cold admittance that he wouldn’t be the one to save you, this time. It felt all too much like giving up on the person who had sacrificed themself time and time again for him. Although it left a poor taste in his mouth – bitter, unwelcome, downright painful – you had proven to be steadfast in your decisions. There was going to be no convincing you.

“I love you.” If Mark was given a do-over, no strings attached, that would not be the first time he was saying it to you, aloud, just the two of you, and it wouldn’t be the last. 

And maybe he would have gotten to hear it from you just once. 

Your final breath cascaded against his knees, a waterfall that seemed eons from growing dry but dripped slowly into the grave it dug for itself. There was no sound, no last rites read, except for the heartbroken sob that broke free from Mark’s chest, echoing around the cavern walls.

Seeing the sun after so long in space was strange. Of course, you could look out of one of the many windows that Mark had installed and see a sun, but to stand in the rays of light from the sun of this galaxy? It made you want to brush off your duties, it made you want to throw your jacket off and run into the forest, it…

It made you miss Earth.

After exploring space for so long, you were always surprised that, wherever you landed, you felt homesick in the bottom of your stomach. The feeling slept when you were in transit and reared its head when you started to set up a colony, but it never truly disappeared after that. Hell, not even the visits back to your birth planet fixed the issue. The best thing you came up with was bringing little pieces along for the ride. 

But you didn’t have the time to reminisce. Just as you’d mentioned earlier, you had a colony to establish, and it was well on its way already. A dozen sectors sketched out, concrete paths linking each one to the other. There were still a majority of people left in their cryo-chambers, those that weren’t necessary for building or planning, who were being looked after by Celci. Gunther was on observation for threats – a duty he often groaned about – and Bert was waxing poetic while the rudimentary power generators were being built. So far, everything was looking good. As in, nothing was going to blow up immediately and force you back on that ship.

No, instead, there you were. Standing in front of your growing colony, the sun glinting off the metal of the parked ship, your feet on the ground of a healthy, new planet. How could you not let a prideful smile work its way onto your face underneath the helmet you had yet to take off? You had made it, and, if you squinted, you could practically see the bustling city this place would become. Stores on one end of the street, restaurants on the other, further down would be a sector of houses with a public park and a fountain. Young families would walk to their parents’ house, the group of teenagers would have no problem just talking to each other during dark nights, old lovers would duck from the rain into shaded alleyways to share one last kiss before heading home for a warm bath.

You caught the eye of your head engineer leaning against the head of the ship. 

And not that you knew it, you had also caught his eye, only that was a gross underestimation. Mark had been with you every step of the way on the ship, he’d seen what you could do, what you had done to save the crew and colonists. You’d long ago seized his admiration, and, soon after that, his affection, leading to where he stood in that moment; watching you as you ordered everything that needed to be done to be done, waiting for his own set of instructions that he would carry out perfectly.

Until you made eye contact with him, smiled, and then began to walk away. Mark’s feet were moving before he could process what was happening, and if he started to jog after a few steps, that was between him and the ship wall that he pushed off from. He slid to a stop when he was close enough to you, an unsure half-grin on his face.

“Hey, Captain,” he said as he fell into step beside you.

“Is everything alright, Mark?” was the only reply he got, though that was likely because of his expression more than any doubt you held.

To ease your concern, he tried not to make it too obvious that he was nervous. 

“Yeah!” The barely hidden voice crack did not help, but he continued anyway, “Yeah, it is, I mean- is there anything you want me to do?” 

Requesting work was difficult for him. Not because he naturally took things easy, but because he had been on his feet for the last he-didn’t-know-how-long. Hours, days, he hoped not weeks. It didn’t feel right to not do anything. 

“Why don’t you take the day off?” 

Panic struck him like a physical force. He didn’t remember doing anything wrong, you could have still been angry about the whole incident, but he thought everything had been cleared up on the ship’s bridge. Had you already given him a job and he hadn’t been paying attention? Well, could you blame him if he wasn’t? 

It was in this train of thought that he realized you were waiting for a response. So, you weren’t mad. That was good. 

“Is now the best time?” he asked, “It’s your decision, of course, I just think—”

You stopped short of the next sector, some grid for farming, “Look, you’ve been to hell and back—” and hell and back and hell and back and hell and back, as you were both well aware, “—I think you deserve some time to yourself.” 

‘Time to yourself’. He didn’t want time to himself, he wanted… well, he wanted a lot of things and, to put it bluntly, he wanted some time with you, but you weren’t about to take a rest anytime soon, so neither was he.

“And while I appreciate the offer, Captain, there’s a lot to be done that I think is more important than having a break.”

You watched his face for a second, looked up and down as he started to sweat underneath the layers of his uniform. “Repeat that for me.”

“And while I appreciate the offer, Cap...”

His trailing off made clear the realization he came to. You sent him a knowing look, as he groaned like a kid told he couldn’t have another cookie. Of course, it made you smile, too. His dramatics were the highlight of your day when it wasn’t his stubbornness and jokes.

Today, he was vastly leaning into the former. “Only five minutes!” he demanded, scrolling through his arm-piece to set a timer.

“Ten.”

He scrolled slightly further. “Seven.”

“Fifteen.”

And slightly further. “Twelve.”

Your bout of laughter echoed through the trees around you. “You aren’t getting this, are you?” Mark’s arm was tugged away from him as you swiped through the timer yourself. He might have argued about it more if he weren’t so preoccupied with being close enough to kiss you right now if he had the gall to lean that slight bit towards you.

And, you were his captain, obviously, who was he to challenge your authority?

“Take the day off, Mark, and that’s an order from your captain.” You left him with a pat to his shoulder, luckily not noticing the vibrant blush spreading on his face that was too strong to blame the sun for.

He muttered to himself when you were a few steps away, “Pulling rank isn’t fair.” And he was certain that it wasn’t. It was a trump card, some ex-machina that you had no right to use on him. 

But he had his own little trick up his sleeve, or, rather, on his belt. You insisted on using some of the old-world commodities, even by Earth standards. The communicator on his hip with the antennae and grating would be his ace in the whole for your dumb day off punishment—

“And no using your walkie!”

“Damn it.” 

You were tired. Really tired. You’d slept a day and a half after the whole wormhole incident, and yet here you were, looking at every slightly level surface with literal bedroom eyes. You constantly had to remind yourself to pay attention, but that just made you think about paying attention and not listen to the person you were talking to – who, in this case, was Celci. As such, you were half sure it was important to the whole colony, relying on her reputation, mostly, because again, you weren’t paying attention, and you were actually imagining lying down on that rock you’d seen half an hour ago with the moss and grooves.

You weren’t listening, again.

“Or I could send you the report for you to look over later?”

When you snapped back to reality, you were none the wiser as to what that report was about, but it gave you time to figure it out. “Oh, yeah, that’d be great, Celci, thanks.”

She gave you one look and then asked, “Captain, is everything alright?” 

The half grin took most of your energy, so you promptly dropped it when you remembered that she couldn’t see your face. “Am I that obvious?”

“If you need a break, I can go and check the excavation site and one of the techs can do the propane levels. I’m sure I could get Mark—”

You immediately rushed to cut her off, “No, no, I’m fine. I appreciate the thought but I-I’m fine, really.” Jostling your body and comically widening your eyes, you made yourself as presentable as you could with a quarter of your fuel in the tank. You dusted off your suit and cleared the screen of your helmet, extremely thankful for the metal that made it a one-way mirror. “See?”

Celci hummed at you. Not a good sign. She was arguably the most responsible on the ship, and if she thought you were putting yourself through the ringer, she would do everything in her power to get you to relax. The only problem she faced was ranking, and it was the only thing protecting you from being forced into a nap. You had to get away before she could figure out how to circumvent your title.

“C’mon, Celci, don’t you think I know my limits?”

Disapproving silence. Even starting to walk away from her, you knew how little she believed you. 

“We only have to get through another three hours of work, and then everyone’ll be able to finish up; myself included.”

“Well, Captain…” And there was the crack you needed. Hesitation. 

“Besides, if we get the thermos running, we’ll be able to house some of the colonists and you can focus your efforts on the desert habitation.” That was her little pet project. When you’d scanned the surface, you found two nearby biomes that would barely receive any rain but stayed in the negative fifties for your entire surveillance period. It was backhanded to bait her with the idea, you knew that, but if it got you out of a glorified grounding, you were willing to do it.

Especially since it seemed to work, if Celci’s sigh and hands on her hips were anything to go by.

“Alright, Captain, as long as you finish as soon as the day ends.”

You exchanged a nod with varying degrees of satisfaction with that encounter, before going your separate ways. In fact, you did get a little jolt of energy out of it, as you waltzed along the concrete path. Any thoughts of taking a break were washed out of your mind by the torrent of work you still had left to do; all the sites to check out, all the staff to organize, all the paperwork to send back to the headquarters. The latter was always the worst part, but it was the price you paid for independence on the planet. Free reign was only yours if you played by your boss’ rules.

“Captain!”

Speaking of boss’ rules, as if on cue, Mark jogged to your side from wherever he was before, falling into step quickly next to you. You wouldn’t deny that seeing him gave you another boost of energy, which you immediately used to pat him on the back.

“How’s your break going?”

“I’d rather be doing actual work, but it’s fine. I appreciate it.”

“Good.”

And it was. You were glad he was taking it slow today. He was important to you, and the colony, and you didn’t need your head engineer passing out in the middle of an important task. Or passing out in general. Or doing anything else bad for his health that you could readily prevent.

He appeared alright, for now, although that wasn’t going to get him back on a job just yet. “Actually, I was wondering if—” he started to say, but a crew member cut him off with the crunch of their boots as they rushed towards you from out the surrounding woods.

Their report was normal enough, a few more pieces of information about the excavation site. They’d found another source of aluminum in the caves, which you noted down in case your supplies ran low. Mark waited at your side while you spoke to the person, half-way between listening and grumbling to himself. You couldn’t help but laugh quietly as you dismissed the crew member.

“Sorry, go on,” you said. The pair of you continued to walk, heading nowhere in particular aside from in the vague direction of the housing project.

He did as you prompted, getting out, “Well, I wanted to know—” before someone else called for your attention. Given you were nearing the first constructions of houses, it made sense that a builder caught up to you – despite that, you noticed Mark’s pout as he averted his eyes from the conversation you’d been drawn into. Just a material substitution you needed to sign off on, it was nothing to get worried about, but it was obvious that wasn’t what he was annoyed by.

You gestured with a grin for Mark to continue. Mouth only somewhat open, he paused and looked around, then rounded to your other side to cut you off from the majority of the workers. It was a futile effort, given that you were fast approaching the mass of houses, but it amused you either way. A combination of that drama and humor you were so fond of.

“I think, considering what we went through—” There was barely a crack of a twig in your ten-foot radius when Mark grabbed you by the hand and ran off the path. He didn’t know where he was going, and you definitely didn’t, but you were going regardless. His boots carved a line from the housing district all the way back to the ship. Hardly anyone was there anymore, only a few cryo-techs were loitering around to survey the colonists, so it was his best bet to get you alone, however creepy that made him sound. 

You weren’t given time to question him when you eventually skidded to a stop in a quiet area behind the ship itself. Mark was talking even before you caught your breath.

“I think that you should take some time off too because you went through the same things that I did, and, yes, I know you’re the captain, but having some time to recover from it all would be just as good as me taking some time, even better, because you made all the decisions back there, so you should just relax and I have some suggestions for how you can do that.” 

By the end of his little speech, neither of you were breathing at a steady rate. You both sucked in as much air as you could handle and then let it go again, minds catching up with the situation. For you, it was processing his words and what he wanted from you – for Mark, it was realizing just what he’d spouted and how utterly unconvincing he was.

It was another challenge to understand that you accepted. “I’m listening,” you said, simply, as if you couldn’t say anything else.

Mark spluttered, not thinking he’d get so far but being so far that he had to continue.

“I say we should take some food packs from storage, find an empty room, and have a proper lunch. We won’t talk about work or duties to be done, or anything else, and we’ll lock the door so nobody will interrupt us.” That last bit came from the depths of his soul, Mark grimacing as he spoke. “The colony will be there when we get back. And, if you think about it, getting some rest will help you make better decisions in the long run.”

“Okay.”

Okay. You’d said okay. You’d okayed it. You were going with his plan. Pride overwhelmed him against his mind’s efforts to keep up with his heart and stomach’s backflips. His body froze in response, giving you the concerning impression that you’d broken him with a single word. Lucky for you, he rebooted himself in a few seconds, though he was still unable to curb his enthusiasm.

“Yes. Yes! Alright, let’s go.”

Mark went to reach for your hand but quickly noticed that he was still holding it from when he’d dragged you with him. Instead, sheepishly, he smiled at you and started to walk towards the ship’s entrance, you chuckling to yourself in tow.

If you were going to take a break, you might as well be taking it with your favorite person. What did you have to lose?

“I’m hoping for cool fish.”

“Nope.”

Within half an hour, the both of you were settled on beanbags, eating soup out of Styrofoam bowls, and drinking the champagne you had left over from the salute at the start of the trip. To you, it was the height of luxury, especially now that you were out of your stuffy uniforms and into more casual clothes. The only ones you owned were your workout gear and nightwear, but you opted for the less sweaty version of a tank top and shorts. You didn’t think it was so bad, but Mark had spent the first ten minutes of the lunch break looking anywhere but you. It didn’t help when you went to get your helmet and jacket because he immediately jumped to push you back down into your seat. Not that you – or, though you were unaware, Mark – was complaining.

Still, you kept the outer layers of your uniform close by in case of an emergency, the chances of you being notified as minimal as they were with both your walkie-talkies having been switched off. It was you who pushed for them to be present, but the compromise made them pretty much useless.

Yet not even the potential of a natural disaster pulled you out of the relaxed state you had entered. Slipped down halfway into the beanbag, spread out as far as you could get, you felt calmer than you’d ever been before. Mark would say the same, had he not been seeing your face for the first time.

By the sun, moon, and stars, you were… downright gorgeous. He never liked relying on rumors, so he had taken the stories of you being handsome and/or beautiful to be one weird game of telephone. Now, though? He was regretting not asking to see your face sooner, but you were still in front of him, and he was going to relish the view for as long as he could, emergency be damned.

“First chance I get, I’m throwing you in an ocean,” you promised, taking a sip from your champagne flute.

“I’m taking you with me.”

“I want to see it. Maybe we’ll find a fifty-foot-long eel with three sets of teeth and mandibles on its face.” 

“You’ll find some cool rocks and suffocate before you could even see the thing.”

Dammit. Just like that, with one sentence, Mark smothered the banter you had going. His jaw clenched, your shoulders heightened, the mood was thrown out the window – poor choice of words, again. He had meant it to be playful, but certain recent events tainted the very concept of losing oxygen, of holding your breath for longer than a minute. Gallows humor had yet to set in, and, based on the glazed-over look in your eyes, he couldn’t help but think it never would.

But you were the one to break the silence. “So, what now?” you asked as you placed the flute gently on the floor, glass clinking even as it stood straight.

“Cap,” was the only mumbled answer you received, though it didn’t deter you.

“I know, it’s just…” you sighed, “we can’t not talk about it?”

“Why not?”

Your gaze shot to meet Mark’s eyes, ready and raring to argue, to question how he can deny it. The flame died the second you saw the look. The watery film that threatened tears dumped dirt over your fury. It made sense that he would want to leave it behind. You had the colony to think of now, instead of the death after death after death you’d both faced in the wormhole. You understood that want to ignore it all, but you couldn’t fall into the trap. You couldn’t face another night with it hanging over your head. The bags underneath those wet eyes of his told you he couldn’t either.

Shakily, you whispered, careful not to set him off, “Because it happened. And it was a serious moment in our lives that we can’t ignore. And- and what if it all goes wrong again and we need to prepare to deal with it?”

“Then we’ll do what we did last time.”

“Get stuck?”

“Get through it.” Distantly, you wondered why you were the one to make that first speech. You were the captain, sure, but Mark made you believe him with just one incomplete sentence. He made you trust him in three words, no matter how much your mind fought to tell you otherwise, your heart did indeed trust him. “I mean, we’ve come this far, how hard can it be?” A weak chuckle. “I’d wager getting Gunther to not shoot the first thing he saw when he got off the ship was a lot harder than what we did.”

You didn’t feel like laughing. Instead, talking about the crew, it made you feel… something else. An intangible well of guilt and shame. You could get through another wormhole, but everyone else? What if they got caught? What if they started to remember all the death and fire and pain? You wouldn’t be able to help them, not like last time. If they remembered, they’d be at the edge with you, staring over the side. How many of them could take it? The crew or the colonists themselves? You would have failed them all. You might not have killed them, but they’d be casualties, nonetheless.

“Hey.” Your head snapped up to see Mark at eye level with you, leaning over to bring a hand to your upper arm. “We’d get through it. I know we would.”

But you still looked forward, unblinking, and it only took a second for Mark to realise he was wrong. If he wanted to be scientific about it, he would have just called it trauma bonding – if he wanted to be emotional about it, which he didn’t but he was going to be, he would have thought that all your time together brought you closer, not only because of the danger you experienced, but the comradery. Seeing you in action, seeing you take care of everyone, seeing you be the captain you were meant to be; Mark was sure he understood you. That meant he could see that guilt and shame as clear as day in your eyes.

He let himself fall forward to flop down next to you in your beanbag. Even though he was slightly uncomfortable, pressed against the strangely stiff surface, he stayed right where he was. Nestled against your side. He couldn’t think of a better place to be.

“I don’t understand why you do this.”

“It’s one of my charming quirks.”

You still didn’t feel like laughing, not even at your own poor joke, so you dropped your gaze to Mark. “What are you talking about?” you asked.

“You pretend like you aren’t the captain.”

“Do I?” Plead the fifth or whatever it was people said, and you didn’t care about the irony of you being the one to deny now.

He narrowed his eyes, barely shifting closer but shifting closer regardless. You felt your breath catch in your throat. “Yeah, you do,” he pushed as the hand that was on your arm circled around to the other shoulder. You resisted the voice in your mind that told you to bury your head in his neck, whether that was to avoid hearing him or to relish in his closeness that you never had the chance for.

You didn’t though, head remaining held high, so you were forced to listen when he continued, “You tried to get a smaller crew, you go in on the explorations yourself, you ignore the medics who try to help you.”

Another voice in the back of your mind perked up to rebuke it all, but you silenced it. What would be the point of lying? Mark knew you, you knew he knew you, there was no reason to fight it.

You sighed. “Well, I don’t know.” Your voice was small, smaller than you or Mark had ever heard it, but the admittance felt like it was enough to send a shockwave through the cabin. The jacket that showcased your title to everyone on the planet seemed to blaze in your mind. “Am I really their captain yet?”

“’Yet’?” Mark parroted you, and that was the go-ahead you needed to spill your thoughts.

“I missed the construction of the ship and the selection of the crew. The hour that I got onto the thing, everything went to shit, so many things went wrong. I- I don’t know if I deserve this, being the captain, when I didn’t spend any time with the people running the ship. Hell, even without the whole wormhole thing, we were going to be in cryo-sleep for the entire journey. I wasn’t needed.” The flood of words tumbled out with reckless abandon and then stopped like crashing into a wall like a bike going eighty. You didn’t think you would go through with it otherwise. Inner voices or a sense of decorum threatened to overtake you.

And yet, even though you got to the end of your rant, red-faced and breathless, you were knocked more off-balance by Mark’s question. “How many times did you die?”

“What?”

His eyes were trained on you. “How many times did you die?”

“I don’t remember, maybe thirty?”

“So, you died thirty times for yourself?”

Indignation sparked within your heart. “No, I did it for the ship,” you stated bluntly, “the crew and the colonists.” You weren’t certain what his point was, but if you had to use your authority-voice on him, you were going to.

“Repeat that for me.”

“I did it for…”

That was his point, then. Your shoulders relaxed, though you didn’t notice that you’d raised them, and your eyebrows unfurrowed. In return, Mark’s smile brightened, like he’d caught the canary. Caught you, more like. 

You stared deadpan down at him but brought a hand up to card through his hair. Without his beret, it was looser, more befitting of him as a person instead of the head engineer. The corners of his mouth perked up even more. “See, I don’t like it when you use my own tactics on me.”

His laugh reverberated through your own bones, especially when he dropped his head to your collarbone. It wasn’t awkward, in fact, you were soon chuckling along with him at his happiness more than your joke – it felt natural, but you were still aware that this was the closest you had ever been. Relaxed into the beanbag the two of you now shared, trying to avoid knocking over your flutes of champagne, practically cradling each other in your arms. If the wormhole had been like this, maybe you would have appreciated it more.

“Someone who doesn’t deserve to be captain would have left the ship to explode and taken an emergency pod back to the nearest planet.” His speech, like his trailing off giggles, shook your muscles as sparks of electricity. “They wouldn’t have died for them, and you did. You are their captain.”

Hesitation. You saw it as bright at the sun of your new home in the sky. You saw it rise in Mark’s eyes, you saw it crescendo, and you saw it dip into the horizon.

“You’re my captain.”

Whatever thought ran through his mind, it was gone by the time he pushed through the final inch between you, leaving barely a breath in the interim. You could feel the puffs of hot air bat against your jaw, nose and lips. The role he gave you meant more than the legislation, the rule, the empty title. Now, it was trust. Him in you, and you in him.

For a moment, you thought he might bridge the gap, but his mouth opened before anything could progress. That didn’t mean either of your minds had strayed from the idea. He whispered under his breath, as if it would escape the room had he spoken any louder, “Do you want to have dinner tomorrow night?”

“As in a date?”

“Yeah. A date.”

Mark could feel his heart beating faster. He could have denied it and represented it something like the scenario you were in now. There was a part of him that thought he should have; it shied away from the very possibility of rejection and cowered in the clasp of regulations and human resources. But he had already taken the leap, the words hovering in the air. It would be a proper date – with candles and music and something better to eat than soup in a Styrofoam bowl. You’d talk about whatever came to mind, plans for the future instead of the past, and you’d share a bottle of wine as you spoke. The flicker of flame would highlight you from below and he would see exactly what he was describing in your eyes. His future. If the night went well, you’d clear the table together, strangely domestic against the memories of the journey over, and then, with the candlelight still dancing on the table before the fire was snuffed out, he hoped to share a kiss together. He could almost feel it already.

While his imagination was a thing to behold, it could not take credit for that sensation, but while Mark was so lost in his prospects, he failed to notice that the future was coming to pass. Or some of it, anyway.

You weren’t sitting at a table, a glass of wine and wax dripping onto the table; you were closer than before, with your lips pressed against his and your eyes closed.

Mark was knocked breathless. The sensation was nothing he could have predicted; the pressure was soft, gentle, like a silk ribbon, but the texture exposed how you would bite the same places when you were worried. Worried? What reason did you have to be worried? You were the greatest captain he had ever heard of, let alone known. He wanted to tell you just that, but he was preoccupied, for obvious reasons, with pushing you down against the hill of the beanbag. Maybe he was bias – your groan reverberated through his skin – but he didn’t really have a choice – your fingertips skimmed across his hair – and he was sure that you were objectively the best anyway – your teeth grazed over his lips – so it didn’t really matter. He brought one of his own hands to hover over your jaw, barely making contact until a particular hum had him brushing his thumb across your cheek. You leaned into it, as if it were a military ration, and he supposed it must have felt like that. Roles like yours didn’t tend to come with company.

Inwardly, he pledged that he would never let you feel alone again.

Outwardly, in an ill-fated scuffle to reposition himself, a dull thunk and something spilling onto the floor caused the two of you to slowly, begrudgingly, part. A few puffs of air settled between you as you turned to see Mark’s semi-full glass that had fallen over.

With a laugh, you settled your head against Mark’s shoulder, both to stabilize yourself and spare him the embarrassment of a steadily reddening face.

“So, that date tomorrow?” Despite the last five minutes, Mark couldn’t help but be shaky in asking. Either that, or it was aftereffects of his heart going 210 instead of the normal 60 beats per minute.

“As long as,” you whispered before grabbing your own champagne for another sip, “we get to find a large body of water tomorrow.”

“That sounds a lot like an ocean, Cap.”

“Well, if you insist, we can find an ocean.”

With your final poke at his expense, enough to wave away the remaining fog of tension no matter the nature, you downed the last of your champagne and settled further into your beanbag. For once, you didn’t regret taking a break, and you were sure you would need another breather after the excavation the following day.

“It’s my project, it has my name signed on the documents.”

So far, the day had proven successful. Three more biomes were scouted out, one of them being a potentially perfect site for farming, and the first real town had been built. At the beginning, it had looked like one of those places built to test nuclear weapons – but then, just two hours ago, they had moved the first colonists into their houses. You had been there to greet them, shake their hands and pass them the keys, but you had to leave before they could get fully settled. Besides, that was Celci’s job. The whole transfer from cryo operation was under her jurisdiction.

However, now that the residents were all making beds and organizing cupboards, Mark had to deal with her. And by deal with her, he meant argue, because there wasn’t another way the situation could ever turn out.

Presently, the pair were standing outside a section of the colony, Mark’s section, with blueprints in hands and scowls on faces. A slap against the paper was followed by Celci’s gesture towards the energy source.

“That means you were the one who started to involve cryo-tech, and that means I need to have some input.”

Mark scoffed, even though he knew full well that she was, technically, just barely, if you looked at it a certain way, correct. Just the word cold was her full job description, but he assumed he would get away with it if she were busy with other things. How wrong he was. Ever the eye for detail, Celci had searched through all the project applications, filtering for anything below 30 degrees, and then promptly set up meetings with all the leads. She wasn’t aware that it was Mark heading this one until she walked up the concrete path. Mark wasn’t aware that it was Celci he was meeting with until he heard her groan.

Go figure, they had made no progress.

“You know, I would love to prove you wrong on this,” Mark hissed, “but, unlike you, I can’t spend all day arguing about this.”

Was it backhanded to boast about your date and use it to get away from an argument, which he totally wasn’t losing, in one sentence? Probably. Was he doing it anyway? Yes.

However, Celci wasn’t one to give up that easily. Mark barely got two steps backwards before she took one toward him in return. “No, you know I’m right, so you’re running away.”

“Actually, I have a date tonight.” The pride and amazement took over the scowl on his face. For a moment, he forgot he was talking to someone and that he wasn’t just staring into his mirror, trying to convince himself it wasn’t a dream while he picked out an outfit.

“Who with? Your Roomba?”

In any other situation, he would have leaned into the mockery, tried harder to think of a better comeback, but the truth worked well enough. With a grin, Mark corrected, “The Captain.”

A flurry of emotions danced over Celci’s face that Mark was so glad he was able to see. He didn’t think he’d ever seen her confused before, much less shocked, though there were plenty of times she looked at him with endless doubt. They rolled over and over like a broken projector before she finally landed on a stranger expression – bemusement.

“Finally.”

It was his turn to look confused.

She tutted and looked him dead in the eye. “You can’t think that nobody’s seen the love-sick puppy look you give them when they’re nearby.”

The splutter was hard to contain, despite it being very obviously undignified, but it was harder to get back on his feet. So many questions swirled around his mind, most of them trying to preserve whatever image he thought he presented, but he came up blank. It was, annoyingly, likely that she was once again right. But it wasn’t his fault, not when you were, well, you. Of course, he wouldn’t call it love-sick, though that didn’t stop it from being accurate. 

Mark’s lack of response was enough for Celci to know she’d caught him red-handed. Just typical. With the upper hand, she continued, “But I happen to know that your dinner isn’t until seven, so that gives us five hours for you to see reason.” He tried to protest, opening his mouth to ask how she actually found that information out, before she held up a hand. “Or, what, does it take that long to get your hair like that?”

Inwardly, Mark cursed her. He lost his way out of the conversation, and, in doing so, was welcomed by the colony’s rumor mill. What a prize. At least things weren’t spun out of proportion, but he would have preferred the date to be private at first. He could only hope that the crew had enough sense to leave them alone for the night.

Right now, however, he still had to prove to Celci that he didn’t need her supervision.

“I just don’t understand why you want to get involved with this!” he groaned.

“Because it’s a safety issue if I don’t.”

“It’s not gonna explode.”

“You’ll find a way.”

“I’m not doing anything outside of regulations, it—”

A crackle. Something like a fire burning. His heart rate piped up. Celci started to spin, but Mark was quick to grab at his belt. The walkie-talkie was stirring from its sleep in one of the pouches. He preferred the tech they’d designed for the mission, but he wouldn’t deny you your pieces of Earth. Plus, the stickers were always a bonus.

He drew Celci’s attention as he pressed the button down. Silently, he waved away her own smug grin – the one that told him he looked exactly like a love-sick puppy.

“Hey, Cap, everything alright?”

You never stuck with the whole over and out thing. It was the compromise given they had replaced it with a light to show when the other side’s button was pressed down. To Mark, it made more sense and improved efficiency. What was concerning, though, was that the light was on, red and blazing, but you weren’t talking.

He pressed it closer to his ear. 

Just breathing.

“Cap? Captain, are you okay?”

He was struggling to keep his smile.

Especially when your voice whispered through the machine, gravelly and choked, as if there were hands wrapped around your neck.

“Hey, Mark.”

“Captain.”

“I’m, uh—” You were broken apart by a cough, “—prob’ly gonna be late to dinner—” Another cough, “—tonight.”

It sounded like your lungs were being ripped at the tubes and emptied. Mark’s heart felt like it was shattering.

“Where are you?”

Radio silence. The shards cracked further and refracted the light into searing flames through his veins. Just as sharp, he brought his gaze up to Celci.

“Where is the Captain right now?”

“Didn’t make a copy of their schedule?”

It was meant to be banter, a little poke at their relationship, something to get a deadpan look and an eye roll.

Mark looked more scared than she had ever seen him.

“Third excavation site. North.”

And, at the final word, he was gone, sprinting down the concrete path. The wind carried him in subtle support while some of the crew watched the storm rush past them. They had no clue what was happening, but neither did Mark. He only knew that he had to get to you, no matter what. He had to be there for you.

The walkie felt like it was burning in his grip. An omen and a promise at the same time. He pulled it to his mouth, as though just hearing his voice clearer would let him understand everything. “Cap, Cap, come on, what happened?”

Nothing. Silence outside of his body, which itself sounded like a zoo set loose. It was the eeriness of a broken submarine. He could hear the crunching of the water against the sides as it threatened to ball the metal up with the ease of a wad of paper, but there was still a dismal quiet in the meantime.

“Captain!”

And he couldn’t do a damn thing to help.

Some of the pressure released when he heard your whisper, “Cave in.” It was decorated with crackles and pops, but he heard it crystal clear, every single one of your words its own speech. “Do-don’t come, Mark, don’t.”

His footsteps picked up impossibly faster to match his heart rate.

“I swear, I will,” you choked for a second before you were saved with a cough, “I will pull rank on you.”

“You can do that later. When you’re not crushed under rocks. You can do it at dinner.”

“Mark, I’m not…”

“Yes, you are!”

He swept round a corner. The danger signs for the excavation site came into view. Just a little longer. He didn’t know if you had a little longer. Your breathing was already ragged when you called, and it was getting worse. He knew he should have been pouring all of his energy into getting to you – for once, he admitted it would be better for him to shut up and focus – but he couldn’t handle the silence.

“Okay, okay, pull rank on me,” he pleaded, “just keep talking. Please.” You yielded to his request with a smile that he couldn’t see. “You named the colony yet?” His job. Technically, it was supposed to be the captain who named the colony, but you had given that duty to him. You’d argued that he was the one to choose the planet, so he should have been the one to name it. Just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach. It was too early for delegation, you didn’t need to do it yet, and there would be no reason to later because you would be alive and well. You’d do your job and he’d do his. There would be no exchange because a role couldn’t be filled.

But the declaration was fueled by doubt even in his own mind. 

“No, I was waiting for you,” Mark answered.

“You should name it.”

“I’m waiting for you.”

Another cough, as if your own body was working to supply your point. “Can’t wait forever.”

“I won’t be.”

The lack of response stirred something horrible in his gut when he slid into the entrance to the rock site. He pushed past the gates and tape, snagged protective gear from its place hanging off the fence, and immediately rushed to the directors. They were shambling about with checklists in hand and smiles on faces. Mark wanted to laugh, cry, freeze still in his boots. Everything looked so optimistic. This was advancement for a colony of a size like this.

Days later, when the clock would strike midnight and Mark would lay in his bed with the sheets askew and pillows scattered, he wouldn’t remember what he said to the workers he spoke to. Whether he interacted with them, or they interacted with him, it didn’t matter. His words were lost to him in the haze of overwhelming urgency and underwhelming panic. Medics arrived and excavators were called over. He only knew that because a few of them went in with him to the mouth of the cave – if some kind of legal body was contacted, he wasn’t aware of it because they never showed in front of him, and they weren’t helping him find you.

One detail he did recognize though was the tug at the walkie from one of the directors that caused Mark to pull back like a feral cat. They seemingly decided not to risk it, and simply slipped another walkie in his belt. Of course, you’d given the rest of the crew those things, instead of the highly modernized tech that would have stopped this entire thing from happening in the first place – but he couldn’t be mad at you. It wouldn’t have been you otherwise. 

They backed off quickly when they were done, and he held the original close to his chest until he was well within the tomb- not tomb, cave. A normal cave.

He had to find you.

The team he entered with was small. You always liked close-knit things, he supposed that was why you went in by yourself. Something about comradery. You were too old-fashioned for your own good.

He would tell you that at dinner, give you a light smack on the wrist and a kiss on the cheek.

“Mark, are you still there?” Your voice through the walkie reminded him of where he was. Where you were. You sounded terrible, considerably worse than last you spoke, but that was to be expected. 

Focus.

“Of course. I’m not leaving.”

“Thank you."

His heart would have melted had he not been so hyped up on the rush of adrenaline and intangible fear.

“Can you describe what you can see?”

“Lotta rocks.” Your laugh turned into a gravelly groan. “I see a light.”

“Don’t go towards it.”

“I don’t have much choice.” Mark was blissfully unaware of your joke because he was also blissfully unaware that your legs had been mangled by rocks splitting apart your bones and muscles, pulverized like the aftermath of an old blender fed with sticks and banana. You were glad he was.

He was able to, instead, drop down off a ledge deeper into the cave, which was very quickly becoming more of a cavern. It had the distinct feeling of being trapped in an ant hill, with some spaces widening and then others trailing off into sharp points. Wherever you were, getting out would be a problem, too, but seeing a light meant that you were either incredibly deep or just by the surface. He was hoping for the latter.

The next drop down was not promising.

Neither was the walkie startling to life again with your voice. “You know,” you croaked, “when we were in the wormhole, I didn’t think it would end like this.”

“It’s not ending like this.”

You let the words sink into metal grating of the machine before you spoke again, “I thought I’d be shot in that noir place or stay frozen in a cryo-chamber for centuries, I didn’t think I’d just be, uh, crushed.”

The way you phrased it was so inelegant that Mark nearly snorted. However, the reality didn’t let it breach neo-daedism territory.

“Seems a bit boring, in comparison.” He couldn’t tell whether you were mumbling for comedic effect, or your lungs were giving up on you. Uncertainty impaled him like a spear through the chest.

Swallowing, he sighed. “But at least it’s not in the wormhole.”

“At least it’s not in the wormhole.”

It felt too much like a goodbye. A final salute to the ship that sailed off into the distance. Firing the arrow onto the raft. It shouldn’t have given him hope.

But it did; the cavern was bathed with the sunshine from a hole in the ceiling, and the light on the walkie was off.

It didn’t take long to spot you, upper half sticking out from the rubble of a dozen large boulders and even more smaller rocks dusting your back. Frantically, he rushed to your side, barely dodging standing on the discarded walkie a few feet in front of you. You held another to your cheek. Mark wished he had more time to tease you about keeping a whole communicator just for him, then you’d tease him about his own, and then you’d win the argument when he decided to just look at you all alive and active and not steadily dying in a cave. He did not have more time.

He hooked the walkie for the director out of his belt and called for assistance, giving a description of the route he took and then turning it off to pay attention to you.

Your grin was bright but shaky. “You come here often?” 

“Captain…”

“Sorry, bad timing.”

“No, perfect timing.” The chuckle that dripped out from his mouth was tainted by tears brimming in his eyes. He took your hand and tried to ignore how cold it already was. If he had come sooner, would you have more of a chance? Would you have survived? Oh, but you were going to survive anyway, you had to. You were the captain. You were his captain.

“Mark, don’t- don’t get yourself worked up.”

“Or what?”

“Oh, you know.”

He wanted to beg for you to continue the joke. His grip tightened as he brought your hand to his lips. He held it there, waiting, not breathing a single puff of air. The fear of disturbing the scene and being the little bit of wind that a rock needed to jut further into your back was buried deep in his bones.

“Please, just hold on.”

“Mark…”

No.

“Mark, I can’t.”

No, no, no, no.

“I’m sorry.”

Was he saying words?

“They’ll be fine.”

Just a little longer.

“Mark, look… look around, we’ve made it this far, haven’t we?”

His mouth was moving, he was sure of it, but the crackle of the walkie filled his ears in place of his own words.

“You built the ship, you hired the crew, you fixed the warp-core.”

The warp-core. He had done it once before. What’s to say he couldn’t do it again?

“No.”

All that pain, all those deaths, he would do it again.

“Uh-uh. Not this time.”

He would do it for you.

“We got off on chance, you’re not trying that again, Mark, I can’t—”

If you would just let him, he could get you back. He didn’t understand why you were resisting. It would be so easy. You would get to live and lead the colony and be the captain that you always wanted to be.

But he couldn’t deny that it was a lot of woulds. And he couldn’t go through with it without your support. The tears in your eyes were not from pain but from fear, and not even for yourself. You were scared for him. Your head engineer.

“I’m not losing you—” Mark snapped back to the present, “—And, yeah, I know how ironic that is.”

It was ironic, wasn’t it? Not only this situation, but that the two of you, as a pair, had gone through so much together, only to get separated when things had finally calmed down. It was as though you had grown so used to danger that you couldn’t survive without it. Domesticity was not for you, nor was it for Mark. In this lifetime, you would never get a break. And that was one of the two certainties he found.

“So, hey, just- just give me this. Please?”

The other certainty?

“I love you.”

Mark kneeled on the dusty ground of the cave with your hand in his. It was just as cold as the air around you, your breath visible as you sighed a single, “I-…” that trailed off before you could get anything out. The words died in your lungs as your eyes dropped shut.

Mark’s sobs echoed throughout your tomb.

[Did you know this started out as straight fluff? Also, I will forever be scared of the leviathan from Subnautica]

#theknightmarket #fanfiction #markiplier egos #writing #markiplier egos x reader #markiplier #one shots #x reader #head engineer mark #engineer mark #engineer mark x reader #iswm #reader insert #in space with markiplier #angst #heavy angst #angst tw #I can't describe how angsty this is #cursing #slight reference to gore #don't give me the tools to make angst if you don't want me to make angst

[bunni-writing-desk]

Can I request a Patrick Stump x gn reader? The reader helps out on tour (whether temporarily joining the band or part os stage crew is up to you) and it's them getting together (featuring the other band members if possible but they don't have to be prominent characters)

OMG yes ofc! thank you so much for the request and I'm sorry it took so long to get out! I had a lot of fun writing this one and I hope you enjoy reading it :]

"Stage Hand"

Patrick Stump x gn!stagehand!reader

warnings: cursing, Pete making sex jokes but no smut just him being pete

You stood off in the wings of the stage, hidden by the dark curtain legs. Watching was primarily what you did for this job, mostly there to make sure none of the guys hurt each other. Of course, you did other things such as check on the instruments, but you weren't the stage manager so you had little to do with all that. A clipboard was held to your chest, the only paper occupying it was the setlist to make sure they were staying on track. 

Currently, Patrick was belting out the lyrics to Grand Theft Autumn. You were always astonished by his range and ability to sing like an angel. To say you had a little crush on the lead singer would be an understatement, you were nearly head-to-toe flustered goop watching him on stage. But you knew that it was wrong to get into a relationship with him, he was practically your boss and work relationships never end well from what you've seen on TV. But still, you continued to stare at him, you would brush it off if anyone asked, making it out to be that you were just worried Pete was going to run into him.

Speaking of Pete he was busy dancing around, his motions caught your eye for a second as your gaze shifted over to him. You raised an eyebrow, hoping he wouldn't try to stage dive like he did last time or pull you onto the stage. Pete caught your eye contact for a second, sending a joking wink your way which you laughed at. You and Pete were always good friends, way before the band ever started. The two of you jokingly flirt a lot, with no real feelings behind it, and often either of you makes funny disgusted faces at the other for some of the shitty pickup lines said.

You came back to the present when you heard the music stop, the end of the song. The gaze that drifted away during your thoughts traveled back to Patrick, checking up on him. He was sweaty and tired looking, the summer heat was getting to him as it hit midday. You were fairly warm as well, your all-black crew clothes making you practically soak up the heat. Of course, some of the heat was coming from staring at a disheveled Patrick Stump but you would dispute any claims of that. 

Patrick took one of the plastic water bottles from on top of one of the amps and chugged half of it. Suddenly as he screwed the cap back onto the bottle he turned to you and caught your stare. He blinked once then broke out in a grin that made your face heat up more. Your surprised look made Patrick laugh as he grabbed the mic again.

Hours had gone by since Patrick caught you staring at him. The show had ended a little while ago and another band was busy playing their set on the mainstage. A different stagehand had taken your place since you had been on standby for hours with other bands before Fall Out Boy played their gig. You were sitting inside FOB’s tour bus next to Pete, trying to cool down from the summer heat. As much as you loved touring, during the summer months, it was hell for everyone involved. Patrick was lying in his bunk, taking a nap. That as much was evident by his slight snoring behind the curtain divider for his bed. 

“I saw you staring at ‘Trick out there.” Pete had snickered right next to your ear. You whipped your head around to give him a death glare. 

“I was not, I was just making sure you weren’t going to run into him like last time, Pete.” The annoyance was evident in your voice as you drew out your best friend's name. He shook his head, his smirk somehow getting bigger than before. 

“Nah, you were just staring at him. Haven’t shaken that crush like you thought, huh?” You sighed at Pete’s teasing then looked over at Patrick’s covered bed where he was lying just on the other side so you couldn’t see him. 

“Fine, okay, yes I still have that stupid crush on him,” You rushed out in a whisper, not wanting to take any chances in case Trick was just pretending to be asleep. “But if you’re thinking I’m going to act on it or tell him, the answer is no. You guys are my bosses, not to mention if something happened it would be fucking awkward for the rest of the tour.” You leaned back into the sofa more at the thought. Dealing with that much awkwardness for the rest of the summer would make this tour even worse than it already was.

Pete shrugged at your response. “Alright, but I’m here if you need to know how to get with him." He looked smug as if he had some power over you with knowledge.

You scoffed at Pete’s suggestion, waving him off. “Even if I was going to "get with him" I’m not going to take your advice.” You smiled, still a little annoyed, at your friend who just grinned back and took a drink from his water bottle. 

Pete set his water bottle back down on the table taking a moment to add suspense before saying, “Sure you won’t.” He was challenging you and doing this on purpose but something in your mind just set off anyways.

You started your rant, sitting on the edge of the sofa seat now and already louder than before; “No, now I’m not going to use your advice to get with Patrick! I bet you have no idea what he likes anyways!” You threw your hands up in the air in exasperation but Pete only laughed at you. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, he rarely laughed at you unless something ironic had happened and… You turned around in your seat to find a groggy and flustered Patrick staring at you. Your jaw dropped to the floor in shock, how the fuck were you supposed to explain the shit you just said. 

Pete got up from his seat and walked out of the door, yelling back something about not having sex in the bus. You cringed at the shouted words, setting your hands into your lap and turning back to Patrick. “So uhm… How much of that whole thing did you hear?” An awkward smile was set while you spoke, trying not to look like you wanted to crawl out of your skin at that moment. 

“Well enough to process you saying "Now I’m not going to use your advice to get with Patrick." He quoted what you said just a few minutes before. Your face must’ve been extremely flushed at this point, you felt like you were going to overheat. Trick sighed and sat next to you on the sofa. He didn’t look mad which made you hope that he would feel the same way. “Do you… Do you like me or are you just trying to get with me? I need to know before I say something stupid.”

You opened and closed your mouth a couple of times, not knowing exactly what to say. “I-I do like you, I mean like-like you. Wow, I sound like a middle schooler.” Your voice trailed off at the end, realizing how childish you sounded, what adult says like-like in a real sentence? "What I'm saying is I'm not just trying to get in your pants, I do want a relationship with you.." You didn't have the heart to look at Patrick, worried that you had said the wrong thing.

Laughter is not what you were expecting to hear from him, you turned to face Trick with a questioning look. "I thought you and Pete were together?" He grinned at you, raising an eyebrow. Even you started to laugh after that question.

"No! Nonono, me, and Pete are like siblings! We just jokingly flirt a lot, but uhm.. if it makes you uncomfortable we can stop" You smiled and tried not to sound too lovestruck over Patrick's laugh. 

All he did was shake his head at your words though and waited a few moments before speaking, "No it's fine, I just thought that you were with Pete and I didn't have a chance with you because of that." You stared at him for a little bit, deciphering his every word.

"What do you mean by that, do you like-like me too, 'Trick?" You chuckled at your semi-joke and waited for an answer uncomfortably. Hoping you hadn't made a joke at the wrong time, you nearly breathed a sigh when you saw Patrick open his mouth to say something.

"Well yeah, I like-like you." He laughed as well then stopped after a little bit. Patrick awkwardly cleared his throat and then spoke up again. "Uhm... Can I kiss you? I'm sure I'm not the best at it but I wanna try.." 

You cracked a smile and gently held Trick's face, giving him a small Peck on the lips. His stunned and flustered face made you giggle which he smiled at. "You're so amazing, Trick…" You leaned your forehead against his and closed your eyes, taking in the moment.

Someone stomping up the steps into the tour bus made you both jump away from each other, not quite sure if either of you were ready for people to know yet. Pete walked into the main room, an arm covering his eyes. "Sorry, forgot my wallet!" He nearly shouted which made both you and Patrick start laughing at him. He removed his arm from his face, realizing you two were fully dressed and not doing anything. 

Pete smiled and grabbed his wallet and as he was walking out you could hear him yell back at you, "You two are adorable together!", which made both of your faces heat up with blush.

#patrick stump x gender neutral reader #patrick stump x reader #patrick stump #fall out boy x reader #fall out boy fanfiction #fall out boy #fall out boy patrick #fob #fob patrick #fob pete #pete wentz #fanfic writing #fanfic #gender neutral reader #cursing #slight sex jokes #kinda? #fanfiction #oneshot #if you like this feel free to request a second part since my requests box will be open again soon! #love you guys and thank you for being so patient #<3

[ultimateinferno]

Will I ever expect Nintendo writing a Ganondorf who's trying to break the curse and end the cycle? No. I simply think their faithful adherence to the nature of fairytales about the knight rising up to face evil and save the princess is simply that strong. It's a classic (in the most literal sense cite Perseus and Andromeda). It's why I don't believe in a playable Zelda until I see it with my own eyes.

While the earnest nature of providing interesting spins on this millennia old formula is rather endearing, I would welcome earnest breaks in turn as well. Yet until I see it, I simply won't be holding my breath for when it comes.

#no slight to anyone wanting either thing in totk but 35 years of narrative precedence is pretty strong #that being said if you ask me my ''dream Zelda game'' much of the plot involves something regarding either one #i think a zelda game where the king of hyrule is zelda's elder brother. a game where link and zelda have long since been married #and the main villain isnt ganon but say an invader of another kind. #but ganondorf is present. a young traveling mercenary informed of his fate to become the king of evil and trying for a cure from that fate #zelda is not taken but an active participant; frequently joining link traveling around hyrule or breaking off to buy more equipment #and do some scouting of her own #it has botws exploration but maybe some linearized pieces of development like a dungeon thats a fortress wall blocking off parts of the map #random encounters against Ganondorf who's time is running out and desperately trying to find zelda #until the two of you are travelling and he ambushes you. #you can lose and must rescue her from his lair. you can fend him off. or you can defeat him and track him down #the first has minimal changes to the ending of the game. the second has a surprise ganon fight. and the third reveals a quest #one where he explains his plight and help break his curse #and in the end the three of you face the villain side by side #i think that would be a cool game #zelda #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #totk #loz

[duckiesillyness]

i got obsessed i guess...

#hazbin hotel 2024 #my art #hazbin hotel alastor #lucifer hazbin hotel #slight radioapple dw ill show more #angel dust #cursed cat alastor

[zoethebitch]

for many of you I have sent you my vibes and a 🙏🙏🙏 when applying for jobs or going into an annual review or asking for a raise. now I must ask you to do the same for me

#🧿🧿🧿 #I know one of you bitches will try to curse me out of this #I am not about to fumble this bag over whatever petty slight you've conjured about turn signals or voter fraud