Ruijer



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  1. Public Bookmark *

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    “Akechi,” Ren says.

    “Shut up.” Akechi snaps again, as dismissively as the first time. He stands with his gun resting against his hip, pinches the bridge of his nose and shuts his eyes tight. “Shut up, I need to think.”

    “Akechi, have you been, uh,” Ren taps his foot nervously against the floor. Can’t bear to get his hopes up. “Have you been repeating today too?”

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    30 Aug 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 10

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    In the dim interior of his flight deck, the comm light is an insistent, flashing red. It comes through Jim’s private relay, where only a handful of people can reach him, so it doesn’t make a lot of sense that the message is anonymous. But it certainly gets his attention, which is likely the point.

    The job is a rescue mission: complete systems failure on a civilian transport, high urgency.

    Jim sits back and taps the arm of his chair. It’s the kind of thing you’d send Starfleet to sort out, not a one-man courier ship. Unless there’s some reason you need to keep it off grid.

    Twenty years ago, Spock walked out of Jim’s life with no warning. Now, tucked in the back of a derelict shuttle, Jim might have just found the key to understanding why.

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    30 Aug 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 23

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    Sometimes, when they leave the city, Aki feels like he’s waking from a dream. Like fog burning away and leaving his mind clear. He can see for miles.

    Angel pulls his hair up messily. He eats messily. Slouches messily across benches. His limbs go every way. His voice meanders like a creek.

    Aki can’t move for touching him.

    He wonders, in the air between them, how much is Angel. How many particles of Angel are in each breath he takes. He pulls a breath all the way down to the bottom of his lungs and holds it.

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    20 Aug 2026

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    Shane Hollander’s hopes for the NHL were ripped from him by an ACL tear and replaced with doctor prescribed opioids at age 18. Four years later, hockey is a distant memory and his days consist of strange men and chasing a feeling drugs can never seem to provide anymore.

    Ilya Rozanov’s family returned home to Russia when his father’s mental state deteriorated and the government wasted no time snatching back his work visa. Ilya stayed behind in that godforsaken city to do the only thing he had ever been able to support his family doing: sell dope.

    Ilya sees a lot of sad people. Shane sees a lot of horny men. Neither of them are prepared for what they see in each other, and what it means for the boxes they’ve allowed themselves to be put into.

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    18 Aug 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 6

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    "Cut the shit," Calligan grits out. "I know it's you, you son of a bitch. You—what the fuck were you—you fucking psycho, you—"

    He's crossed three-quarters of the room. Bubonic's hands are still up, and his heart is pounding, and the mouth of Calligan's gun is sliding beneath his chin, blunt cold pressure; and he says, slowly, "You remember."

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    13 Aug 2026