#an entirely different person as far as im concerned. when i look like that i look like a stranger to myself.

[snekdood]

idk why ppl think you wanting a different body, or in this case specifically, weight, somehow has something to do with them or you judging them? like i've worked through the fatphobia i grew up with and was used against me, idgaf what other people do and im also not repelled by or somehow grossed out by fat people given i tend to date fat people (not seeking them out, it just happens)-- if this is the case, how can you say that im somehow demanding you change in someway because I want to change myself? maybe stop seeing other people as extensions of you and this wouldnt be an issue..?

[neil-gaiman]

Hey Neil,

it's that same person who's mother would not let them watch good omens. I have a different, worse problem now

I'm trying to write a book. it's only at 28,000 words right now, but I have the entire plot planned out and everything. but I'm now banned from writing it. It's apparently too violent, too sacrilegious, too inflammatory for my mother. i've poured my heart and soul into this, and i've shared it with teachers and peers and I have had an immensly positive reaction thus far.

She says im not allowed to write my novel out of concern for my soul. she says it is only temporary, but every time she says that, it ends up being permanent. I don't want to give up on it. I love the character,s the ideas, everything, and I just can't leave it to rot.

do you have any advice? i need it.

How old are you? She won't be in control for ever.

She can't actually stop you writing, especially when she's not there. She can't police your thoughts or stop you plotting.

Don't leave your book around. Normally I recommend paper and pens but you are much better off writing directly on the web in places she's not looking and won't be able to find.

There are places you can anonymously post things you write, and also make them private. Other people can give you more specific advice.

(And be a little bit paranoid. Remember that there are things like key-logger programs which will record everything you ever type.)

Remember, whichever God or Gods your mother follows are good with you writing. This is all on her.

[libbys-braincell-loss]

Im bored as hell so heres a short SMG4 x SMG3 oneshot (idk what to name it)

(Kinda angst? Not exactly, it also mostly includes some wholesome fluff too; takes place after the events of the Puzzlevision movie and references IGBP, so spoilers for that ig lol)

(Also its really short)

---

SMG4 was out for a walk, late in the evening outside of the castle. He was lost in thought - a lot of things were eating him up inside his mind since the day Mr. Puzzles took him and his friends and forced them to perform in his dumbass shows.

Just one thing was going through his mind.

When Mr. Puzzles showed him his corrupted behavior when he was going through the phase where he absolutely had to make the perfect video ever.

"Who knew that you could make such a great villain?" Mr. Puzzles had said.

He really did become a villain, didn't he..?

That was an entire year ago, and he still regretted his choices and still beats himself up over moments like that.

SMG4 stands in places and observes the pebbles on the ground.

"SMG4?"

The familiar voice surprised him. He turned around, and not too far away from where he stood was SMG3, holding his beloved Eggdog.

"What are you doing out and about at this hour?" SMG3 asked.

"I could ask the same to you?" SMG4 said in return.

"I always let Eggdog roam around at this hour," SMG3 said, putting Eggdog on the ground, as he hops off. "It's quiet out. No one, specifically Mario, is up at this hour to disturb our peace. It's real nice. ...Why are you out here? You're rarely out and about this late."

SMG4 sighs. "I've had things on my mind, and I thought touching grass would clear my head, y'know?" He chuckles.

SMG3 begins expressing concern, but is very quick to hide it. "What's up?"

SMG4 observes the ground. "Do you realize that I went through that... 'absolute perfection' phase over a year ago? Can you believe it's been that long?"

"Oh, shit," SMG3's eyes widen. "Time really flew by, huh?"

"...Yeah."

SMG4 stares sadly at his castle, not too far away.

"To think that something so impressive and monumental... wouldn't be here if I didn't do something so dumb."

SMG3 worriedly steps closer to him, realizing what's up.

"Is Mr. Puzzles' comment bothering you?"

SMG4 looks at 3. He nods.

"I just... hate the fact I was so selfish that I ended up hurting the people I cared for most," SMG4 says, blinking back tears creeping through his tearducts. "I didn't want to be a villain, I never wanted to..."

SMG4 buries his face in his hands. SMG3 inches closer, holding out his arms, but ultimately deciding against putting hands on the person considered his rival, so he lowered his arms.

"I never considered you a villain, SMG4."

4 looks up at 3.

"You were blindsighted, but the stupid keyboard corrupting you up was out of your control," says SMG3. "You are a dumbass, not a villain. You never had malicious intent. Mr. Puzzles is wrong and we are all thankful he's dead. He was such a sicko-"

SMG3 gets cut off, as SMG4 hugs him. SMG3 feels 4 silently sobbing into his shoulder. He is in a stun lock for a second, before coming to terms that 4 was hugging him. He wraps his own arms around his crying "nemesis". He gently rubs his back reassuringly.

"4, I promise you, you are no villain. You could never be a villain like me." SMG3 says, chuckling.

He feels SMG4 chuckle a teensy bit while buried in his shoulder, reassuring 3 that he would be okay, thus bringing him back at ease.

"Says the person who saved my life and called me a friend," SMG4 says, face still up against SMG3.

"Not like you said anything different when you saved my life," SMG3 chuckled.

SMG4 slowly lifts his face away from SMG3's shoulder.

"If I didn't know better, I'd say you cared about me," SMG4 said half jokingly.

SMG3 smiles sadly.

"I'll be honest, I'm tired of pretending I don't."

SMG4 and SMG3 look into each others eyes. 4 smiles slyly.

"I knew it. I knew you were a tsundere."

SMG3 gently pushes SMG4 away from him, smiling and pretending to be mad. "Don't make me actually hate you."

4 chuckles.

SMG3 looks at him again. "Are you sure you're okay now?"

SMG4 smiles.

"Much better, thanks to you."

SMG3 smiles, looking to the ground.

"Don't mention it. ..Seriously, don't mention it. If Meggy hears about this, I will not hear the end of it."

SMG4 grins, and begins walking back toward his castle, as Eggdog walks up to his owner, ready to head inside.

"I heart you too, SMG3," SMG4 says before walking to the castle entrance.

SMG3 rolls his eyes, smiling, as he picks up Eggdog and the two head back into the cafe.

[tonydaddingham]

im borderline animalistic where the 40s scenes are concerned and i have a lot of feelings about them that deserve a thorough run down now that we've had more delicious🍲 content🍲 and im in full fledged soup mode

ive talked about a lot of these different bits in different posts but i feel it's a good point to pull them altogether and build on them now that we've had more content, so yeah a lot of this will just be me repeating myself

major kudos, thanks, and my eternal soul goes to @theeminentlyimpractical (prev @lalie-go), im convinced someone visited them in the night and bestowed them the true gift of prophecy that in this instance has been the equivalent of pouring kerosene over the dumpster fire that is my brain rn,,,,,, and they're much smarter and more observant than me and that needs celebrating

✨inhale✨

so ive always been intrigued by the juxtaposition of the 1941 church scene and then the 1967 bentley scene from my very first watch of s1 because their tones are so polar opposite to each other.

you have the church scene (specifically the aftermath) which is so tender and revelatory and hesitant, but like in the same way that a baby bird takes flight for the first time. and it's almost voyeuristic in that you literally see the moment where aziraphale realises that he's in love with crowley. that moment is so deeply personal and vulnerable that it's almost painful to watch through the metaphorical keyhole.

it's a huge development moment for many reasons, but for me specifically bc i think aziraphale is somewhat convinced that he's the only one in on this giddy little secret, so he's a bit flirty and heart-eyed at crowley, but whole-pussy convinced that it's just a cutesy lil secret and he's really subtle and crowley won't cotton on.

then we have the bentley scene in '67, and it's so bloody cold, and awkward, and stilted, and almost hurts to watch - it's voyeuristic in a very different, bare way, in that we see aziraphale so closed off from crowley, but unable to help himself in getting involved because if he doesn't, crowley could end up getting seriously hurt, or wind up dead. and that's unthinkable, so aziraphale placates crowley with the holy water (because crowley will just simply get it another way), and controls the situation that way.

in fact, the whole scene is about aziraphale being in control - of the conversation, of the tension, of the entire emotion of the scene - and is in such contrast to the church scene where we see aziraphale as close to out-of-control as we've seen him so far, at least at that point chronologically. crowley attempts to weedle aziraphale into engaging with him, and aziraphale somewhat releases a little, mollifies him with the offer of a picnic or a dinner at the ritz...

and crowley latches onto this, onto this small chance that aziraphale is giving him, almost like he's trying to comfort aziraphale by offering, or trying to make amends for something. but aziraphale is back in control, never having really lost it, and closes off any opportunity of moving forward. he's regretful, we can see that on his face, but he needs to make space for himself, give himself room to breathe - like he's been suffocating.

now we come to what happens between these two points. i thought that something happened during the Dinner of '41, but now im not so sure. this is because it transpires that we have entirely separate scenes in the 40s era apart from the church and the dinner. but starting with the Dinner of '41, we see that aziraphale is coy, and employs his signature look-look-away mannerism which honestly i think is his biggest tell when it comes to crowley.

crowley is so chilled and relaxed in that scene - leaning back at this candlelit dinner, seemingly in his element, as if his inner monologue is just willing him to Be Cool™. im almost wondering if he's observed this candlelit dinner, and how aziraphale's acting, and is interpreting it as aziraphale just being grateful for saving him and his books, and wanting to make up after the holy water argument, no way does it mean anything more than that. but let's face it, crowley has been besotted for literal millennia and will take anything he can get, any scraps aziraphale cares to throw him.

and now that we know there's further 40s content in the form of the windmill theatre, and aziraphale's magic act. there's a few things to remark on that set the scene (once again the vast majority of which stems from lalie so all apollo memes are to be flung their way thanks)

we know that aziraphale performs a magic show at the windmill theatre, and is accompanied backstage by a well dress older woman and vaudeville/burlesque-style dancers

that woman is played by dame siân phillips, and neil alluded that georgia tennant was in discussions for a role which she ultimately turned down as she didn't feel she was the right fit for someone with that amount of historical importance - which points very firmly to this being the same role, and that role being laura henderson (owner of the windmill)

on a similar historical note, the windmill's theatre manager was vivian van damm (advice: read up on him, he was a genius as concerns finding loopholes in indecency laws at the time), who was VP of the London magician's club, and "held charity shows at the Windmill Theatre"

we know that on the set, along with aziraphale being in his magician's outfit and crowley in his 40s outfit, there were extras dressed up in period-appropriate military uniforms

the opening sequenece shows a bus with "Wings for Victory" on the side. WfV Weeks were campaign weeks in the UK during ww2, starting in march 1943, where each county (US translation in case it gets confused: counties in the UK are almost like states in the US) was essentially set with a target to raise money for the war effort (specifically RAF i think?) and would have competitions with each other to raise the most.

so i feel at this point it can be reliably surmised that WfV was running, a couple of years after the Dinner of '41, and aziraphale (probably having fallen in love with magic after coming across this magician's club of van damm's), get roped into doing a WfV performance at the Windmill.

where is crowley in this, you ask? well he could very well have just seen aziraphale advertised as an act, or if they're still on good speaking terms aziraphale may have simply told him. i feel though that is almost an unspoken hobby of aziraphale's, judging by the crowley s1 reaction to aziraphale liking magic, and ordinarily crowley wouldn't be caught dead discorporated going to a magic show.

now a couple of years previous, we hear glozier say to crowley, "anthony j. crowley! your fame precedes you". but why? why is crowley famous? it doesn't strike me as quite right that crowley is a secret agent or anything, however much a bond nerd he is. but it is the kind of area where i could imagine crowley gets caught up in... so what if he has a job in the heart of soho as (and stick with me here)... a bouncer?! think about it - working hands-on in a sordid, seedy theatre (at least that's how he would spin it to hq) but gets to be outright fiendish to any patrons getting a little too frisky? i think it's PERFECT but whatever-

in any case, i feel like this would just be one of those brilliant coincidences where aziraphale and crowley have an it's always sunny moment, a hilarious double take at each other in the theatre, but aziraphale is quickly whisked off to get ready and get on stage, but not a moment before my boy absolutely bricks it as he's about to go on (this screenshot seriously sends me each time it's so funny). i truly believe that a lot of dutch courage was drunk and a lot of miracles were employed that night haha

so fast forward post performance, and we get this utterly adorable shit being cutesy in his dressing room, congratulating himself on a job well done, spinning around in his lil feather boa, adrenaline (or whatever the angelic equivalent is) pumping, heart racing, just being a complete diva. its aziraphale's world and we're just living in it:

and then crowley comes in, still completely bemused as to what he's just witnessed, and maybe not expecting to encounter an incandescent, bubbling, and probably bladdered af angel spinning around in a fluffy feather boa dancing his approximation of the can-can. aziraphale whirls around, "CROWLEY!!! DID YOU SEE ME?! 💃", and starts blathering about how it all went and how it was so nerve wracking but once he got in the swing of it it was perfect and amazing and oh crowley did you see it, did you see me-

all the while getting crowley (who btw feels like he's just stepped into the twilight zone and not quite sure what to do with himself) totally covered in feathers and, and-

now idk if i feel like anything zesty happening between the two of them would be hugely out of character. and it probably is, and ive probably just provided the fodder material for about a thousand fics, but look if im right in this, im never shutting up about it as long as i fucking live-

what if then aziraphale in his alcohol-fuelled joy just leaps at crowley? huge smothering hug, feather boa and all, and is just essentially vibrating with the happiness and pride and whimsy? and he does that coquettish look-look-away thing that he does? and crowley - oh, crowley my baby boy - knows he should probably slam that pause button because this angel is utterly soused and definitely is not thinking straight... but just wants to soak up how happy and flirty aziraphale is right now? yum up another scrap tossed in his direction, but potentially misreads it all a little bit wrong, and try to take the next step? and aziraphale-

aziraphale very quickly sobers up, entirely miracle-less, and just gets the tiniest bit (see: fucking horrendously) spooked? WOAH this is a bit beyond where i wanted to go? no crowley, we can't do this? i can't do this? im still an angel and im not ready for this?

and someone walks in - it's not aziraphale's dressing room after all. we know from the opening sequence that there's a box in the theatre (which i think is just the artistic depiction of the dressing room scene, not an actual box), from which we see a figure lurking behind aziraphale just as they pull away...

im fully aware that this is completely theoretical and equally improbable but huns my purpose on this site is to provide unhinged commentary as content gets released and ill be DAMNED if anyone says I don't deliver ✨

is this what happens? that there's a very hurried, guilty shuffle away from each other, a very deliberate effort on aziraphale's part not to look at crowley, and a hasty and frightened exit from aziraphale just as crowley is about to apologise? he only just got his angel back after the holy water tantrum, and he's already pushed him away again, by going too fast?

(SIGH EDIT: so i guess the above paragraph does happen but it's got me wondering if the people that interrupt them are glozier and harmony fresh off the national express coach from hell? idk it still kinda fits? tentative but plausible (lmao this sums up my approach to gomens speculation, tentative but plausible))

[stayxlix]

off the deep end. (04)

~(part four) the eighth~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 15.7k

series rating: 18+ **minors do not interact**

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, explicit description of murder/death, explicit sexual content, implied unprotected intercourse, alcohol use/intoxication, oppressive government, brief mention of parent death, traumatic past/abuse, fighting, weaponry (knife use), stabbing, injury, blood, angst, language, please lmk if i missed any!

a/n: thank you so so much to everyone who has been waiting patiently for this update. :) i truly appreciate every single one of you and im so excited (and a little nervous) to finally be putting this out there so as always any feedback, likes, and reblogs are more appreciated than you know. i hope you enjoy.♡♡

~series masterlist~

There are people you will always be drawn to, for you were made from the same clusters of stars. There are parts of you that are made from them as well, and that is what keeps drawing you in. Like gravity. You will come across many soulmates in your current lifetime. But that doesn't mean you will get to keep them.

Felix gripped the handles of the bike with white knuckles. He’d taken the same route so many times before that he could've made it back to District 6 with his eyes closed, but he kept them wide open tonight.

For as long as he could remember, Felix had always made a point to appreciate the night sky. As far as he was concerned, there was nothing much to admire about it during the daytime. Nothing special about thick gray clouds—ominous and foreboding. And on days when the sun did decide to make an appearance, it was harsh. It invited him to stay underneath it, blanketed in warmth, until it burned. 

Much like Felix himself, who had a habit of turning everything good in his life to ash.

But not the moon. The moon was the exact opposite of Felix. Peaceful and gentle, and he'd spent so much time looking up at it that he may as well have memorized each individual surrounding constellation of stars.

Out of all of the memories he'd ever made, Felix had pushed most of them away. He buried them so deep that sometimes, he wondered if he would even be able to recall them if he tried.

As for the few worthwhile moments in his life, Felix liked to remember those by the way he felt underneath the moon. Like the night he met Chan, when he looked up at it from District 2 with an overwhelming sense that his life had been forever changed. 

He had been right, of course. All of the moments worth remembering came after Chan.

Like the night he and the others had nearly given up. Exhausted, starving, half-alive, until they wandered into District 6 and came across what would come to be the closest thing to a home that he had ever known.

That is, until he realized that home could be another person. 

Or seven. 

He would never forget the foreign emotion that washed over him the first night after they'd found Yellow Wood, when he looked to the moon from the rooftop surrounded by seven soul mates.

He held onto the small sense of comfort provided to him by the moon, because it was always there. When he'd had nothing else, when he'd had less than nothing, it was always there. To remind him of the few nights that made it all worth it.

When he looked to it tonight, Felix felt like an entirely different person. Maybe he was different. Almost as if he'd discovered a newfound sense of purpose with your arms wrapped tightly around him like your life depended on it.

Were you afraid?

Maybe he should slow down.

It’s not like your father's guards would have any chance to catch up to them tonight, anyway. If all had gone to plan, before the others had caught fire to the ground windows of the palace using Jeongin's homemade "thunder bombs", as he called them, they would have gone to slit the tires of your fathers military vehicles. At least, as many as they could without drawing attention.

A "distraction" Chan had called it.

Felix thought his own personal addition to the plan was more along the lines of genius, actually. Chan was an excellent leader. Righteous, honest, and hard-headed in all the best ways. Near faultless, if it weren't for his tendency to let his ambition get the best of him. He wasn’t careless by any means, just needed to slow down sometimes.

Felix gradually released his death grip on the throttle.

He expected you to loosen your own grip around him at the slight decrease in speed, but to his surprise, you only held him tighter. Your hands linked firmly at his waist. 

Felix didn't understand you.

You'd been born with everything anyone could ever need. An endless supply of food (that probably tasted good), a warm place to sleep, water to drink and to bathe in, all underneath the promise of guaranteed safety. A luxury that only a handful of people in the entire world would ever come to know.

And yet, you had willingly chosen to leave it all behind. 

Sure, Felix may have risked his own life to follow Chan and the others into the fight against your father, but he had nothing to lose. 

If he'd been born in your place, he didn't know if he would have made the same choice. Chan would've. Without a doubt. And Felix liked to think that he would too, but for what? The mere chance to repair a broken society made entirely of people that he didn't even know? Most of whom didn't even deserve it, as far as he was concerned. 

Not everyone was as good-natured as Jeongin or as loyal as Changbin. Not everyone had as much to offer as Minho, who was beyond skilled in his knowledge of healing. 

Felix envied them, and he couldn't help but wonder if you would think he deserved it, if you knew the things he'd done in his life. The choices he had been forced to make. Where he went sometimes, while the others were asleep. Where he went last night. Before he returned to the tavern with bloody knuckles. 

He wondered if you would ever kiss him again the way you did before, if you knew. If you would ever say his name again, or the nickname you had so casually thrown out moments earlier, when you were agreeing to put your life in their hands. 

In his hands.

No. 

He couldn't do this right now. He needed to focus.

And so, just as easily as you'd slipped your way back into his head, Felix forced you out. Something he had been doing a lot of, lately.

More than he cared to admit.

Instead, he allowed his thoughts to drift to the only other thing on his mind. A conversation that had taken place earlier this morning upon his return to Yellow Wood after dropping you off outside the palace gates.

Underneath the rising sun, after throwing the tarp back over his bike and refilling it with fuel from their quickly depleting supply, Felix had reluctantly made his way toward the front of the building. He was already dreading the discussion that Chan had promised him before he left with you. Although, when he pushed open the front doors, he was surprised to find someone else waiting for him there instead. 

“I thought you were Chan,” he muttered as Hyunjin looked up at him from where he sat at the foot of the staircase that split the room down the middle. It resembled the staircase in the grand hall of the palace, where they'd hung the banners the night of the raid. Except, like everything else beyond District 9, Yellow Wood was nothing more than a skeleton of what it had once been. Frail, decaying, and worn down from hundreds of years worth of neglect.  

Hyunjin didn't reply. He only glared with the same piercing intensity as earlier tonight, when Felix had been standing next to you. 

Alright, then.

If Hyunjin didn't want to talk about whatever was obviously bothering him, that was fine with Felix. He hadn't been in the mood for one difficult conversation in the first place, let alone two. Not to mention the fact that he was exhausted, and only just now starting to notice the throbbing sensation in his face where the bruises lie. 

Felix took a few steps into the main floor where he would (hopefully) be able to find one of Jisung's stashed liquor bottles and avoid Chan for the rest of the night.

“He's upstairs, on the rooftop I think."

Hyunjin dared to break the silence, and although Felix wasn't facing him anymore, he could still feel where his eyes bore into the side of his head.

“Great.”

He should have known Chan would be waiting for him there. All the more reason for Felix to stay down here. He took a few more steps but it didn't deter the older boy from speaking again from behind him.

“You’re fill of shit if you think she's on our side."  

There it was.

Hyunjin had never been very good at hiding the things that bothered him. At least, not from Felix. 

Never from Felix. 

And of course it was about you. He should have known. 

Felix reluctantly turned around when he heard Hyunjin step down from the staircase behind him. He should have ignored him. He knew how Hyunjin could be, he wanted to get a rise out of him.

He shouldn't have responded, but like always, Felix was unable to resist. "It doesn't matter if she is or not. You saw the journal. We don't have a choice." 

"I saw the way she looks at you. The way you look at her. It matters." Hyunjin spit out each individual word as if they offended him personally.

Felix closed his eyes, tilting his head. Did he really just hear that right? 

The way you look at him?

The way he looks at you? 

"I don't know what you're talking abou—"

"Please," Hyunjin scoffed, "that might work on Chan but you can't pull that shit with me. She'll never be one of us. Its in her blood, Felix. Just remember that. Remember what we all agreed on, before you get too attached."

Hyunjin always knew what Felix was thinking. Even before Felix knew what he was thinking, he always knew. And now, he was only repeating what Felix’s own mind wouldn't let him forget. The same thought that had been replaying over and over again in his head since he'd seen that damn family crest around your neck. He was well aware that you would never be one of them. He didn't need the reminder. 

Even if he did, he didn't want it.

Hyunjin shifted. He crossed his arms over his chest and then, he added something that made Felix's blood boil. "Minho says we might as well get rid of her the second we get into Miroh," he raised a taunting eyebrow as the words fell from his lips, a hint of amusement in his voice. Hyunjin leaned against the bannister of the staircase, cloaked beneath golden light that perfectly matched his golden hair as it fell in through the windows above. To anyone else, he would have looked incredibly intimidating. 

But not to Felix. Never to Felix. "Fine by me," he snapped. 

"You don't look at her like it would be fine by you," the smirk that had been playing at the corners of Hyunjin's mouth finally made its way across his lips. As if he had caught Felix in some sort of lie.

With no desire to entertain him any further, Felix turned on his heels to leave the older boy alone once again.

So what if it wasn't really fine by him. What was it of any concern to Hyunjin, the thoughts that ran through his head. 

So what if he wanted to find Minho right this second and strangle him for his words. Even if he wasn't quite sure why.

So what if he liked the way you looked at him, with your pretty eyes and your lips swollen and parted after he'd kissed you. So what if he wanted to know how you looked with your lips wrapped around his cock, instead.

Felix wasn't like Jisung, who could charm his way into convincing whatever semi-interested human being he stumbled across in god knows where to fuck him. Not that it mattered. Felix didn't care to do those things. Or at least, he hadn't cared to do those things..Until you.

But you were beyond stunning, anyone could see that. Even Hyunjin, who’s own eyes had lingered a little longer than they should have on your figure tonight.

And Felix was human too, wasn't he? Even if just barely.

But for whatever reason, Hyunjin appeared to be under the impression that there was something more in the way Felix looked at you. As if he would actually care if something happened to you. As if he would grieve anything other than your pretty eyes and the way they looked at him. 

You don't look at her like it would be fine by you.

Somehow, Hyunjin always knew.

You clung to Felix as the bike raced over hills, across open fields, and through dirt roads when he had no choice but to take you down them. Crippling guilt began to consume your thoughts at the realization that soon, everything in your sight would be up in flames because of you. Your father would literally burn down every single obstacle that stood in his way of finding you because you were the only other person alive who had access to whatever lie beneath the earth in District 2. And if you were being honest, it hadn’t really occurred to you until this very moment that there might not be a world left for you to save after he was through with it.

You strengthened your hold on Felix when the bike slowed, afraid of what would happen once it stopped. Terrified for this moment to end because once it did, you would be forced to come to terms with the permanence of the decision you had made tonight, and what it meant for not only your future, but the future of every innocent person that you passed by, sleeping soundly without any idea that a war had just begun.

You buried your face in Felix's back as the wind whipped through your hair, squeezing your eyes shut when you sensed the cover of trees above you. You felt the bike incline and when it leveled at the top of the hill, you opened them. Breathing a sigh of relief as Yellow Wood came into view. At least the part of you that feared you might not even make it this far could relax now.

Felix slowed the bike again, coming to a stop around the side of the building. You lifted your head from his back, unlocking your fingers from around his waist despite how badly you wanted to keep them there.

But reality couldn’t be avoided forever.

You had found that out far too long ago. 

You stretched as he threw the tarp over the bike. And then, to your surprise, he left your side without a word. Heading toward front of the building. 

“Shouldn’t we wait for the others?”

“They won’t be far behind,” he answered without looking back. After brief consideration, you settled on following him inside. Partly because the surrounding forest had become far more intimidating at the thought of facing it alone. But that wasn't the only reason.

"I know its not what you're used to," Felix spoke over his shoulder as he pushed the doors open. And he was right, stepping across the border into Yellow Wood was like throwing yourself into another world. It was so unlike the palace that was always buzzing with activity, which was ironic considering the number of lives that had ended just outside the front doors.

The area inside was massive, with a ceiling that stretched up to the heavens. Silver moonlight fell through ornate windows above, cloudy with time. The atmosphere was thick with dust and the floor was covered in leaves and muddy footprints. Dirty, but obviously frequented.

The surrounding space was empty, save for a few stray belongings here and there. A tattered backpack, a water canteen that lie empty on its side, a worn out pair of shoes, things that someone from District 9 wouldn’t consider to be of any value at all.

Things that just might mean the difference between life and death to someone out here, which you had a feeling you would soon come to find out for yourself.

You increased your pace, having fallen behind while taking it all in. Each step you took echoed throughout the hollow room, and when Felix spoke, his voice did the same. “We usually sleep upstairs, except for Minho who's pretty much claimed the main floor as his because he hates heights…And sometimes Jisung, who just likes to be wherever Minho is.”

It came as a bit of a shock to you that Minho could be afraid of anything at all, considering the bone-chilling glare he had given you last night. It was even more surprising that Jisung, who had been so welcoming, with such a warm presence, could have anything in common with Minho and his icy aura.

Body still buzzing with adrenaline, you shoved your hands into the pockets of your jacket, hoping Felix wouldn't notice them shake. You stayed close as he made his way over to a large staircase in the middle of the room. It reminded you of the staircase in the grand hall, and the magnitude of everything that had happened tonight began to creep its way back into your mind.

It felt like you shouldn't have been here, probably because you didn't belong here. You were an outsider. They referred to the decrepit space around you as their home while you had spent the entirety of your life sleeping on feather pillows and satin sheets. 

Still, all things considered, it had taken a lot less convincing than you thought it would to get from your feather pillows to this point.

Although Felix had made sure to remind you of his reluctance to trust you at every single chance he got (when his lips weren’t preoccupied by yours) he also hadn't hesitated to bring you to meet Chan the very next day after you'd shared your first real conversation with him.

And Chan had been more than willing to let you in on their biggest secrets—Miroh and your father's journal—just moments after he’d learned your name. Almost as though he'd had his mind made up about you before he ever even knew about the blood requirement.

Realistically, it had almost been a little too easy to get to where you stood now. You were good with your words, you'd put everything you had into explaining yourself to them, but nobody was that convincing.

It was evident that they'd made allies inside the palace before, but you were quite literally the offspring of the man that had sculpted this world into his own personal hell. With a little help from the generations of your bloodline before him. Which meant that they should have been a least a little bit more hesitant, right? And although Felix had very clearly expressed his apprehension with words, when you really thought about it, his actions said otherwise. He had actually been putting trust in you from the very beginning, you had just been too caught up in everything to realize it. 

So then, why?

Why had it been so easy to convince them?

Why hadn't they questioned you further?

"Why were they so quick to let me in?"

Every muscle in your body froze when a voice shattered the silence.

Your voice.

Had you just said that out loud? 

You winced, blaming the mess of disordered thoughts in your head for allowing the words to slip right out past your lips. Eyes trained forward, you hoped that maybe the thoughts in Felix's own head were so loud that he hadn't even heard you.

As if you would ever be so lucky.

"What do you not understand about the fact that they didn't have a choice?" his tone was stern. The small glimpse of tenderness that he'd shown you earlier tonight, when he wiped the tear from your cheek, was long gone.

He stepped up onto the landing at the top of the stairs, taking a sharp turn down the hallway with you still following behind, a little less closely now. "When we realized the journal was missing the final pages, it was like we'd just lost a war we would never even get the chance to start. So don't get the wrong idea, princess. Chan didn't want to let you in, but he didn't have a choice. And just because things have worked out until now doesn't mean he trusts you. It doesn't mean they trust you, and it certainly doesn't guarantee that they ever will." 

"Well it didn't take you very long to change your mi—"

What was with you tonight?

You bit your tongue to keep from finishing the sentence, although it was obvious what you were implying.

You shouldn't have said it. You didn't mean to say it, but apparently you weren't in control of filtering your words tonight. Probably because everything in your head was messy and confusing, and your feelings for Felix were even messier and more confusing, not to mention the fact that you had been on the verge of mental collapse for not only the past twenty four hours but possibly your entire life...So if you could just find some way to quickly summarize all of that to him then maybe he would be willing to forget the comment you'd so carelessly made.

Felix froze immediately upon registering what you'd said, his sudden stop in movement causing you to stumble into his back. You opened your mouth to speak but when he turned around, you realized it wouldn't have mattered if you'd been given all the time in the world to explain yourself. 

Like flipping a switch, the familiar darkness returned to his eyes.

You backed up until your shoulder blades hit the wall behind you, causing you to jump. 

"Did you not hear anything I said before?" he took a few steps closer, inviting himself into your personal space once again. "What makes you think I've changed my mind about you?" 

Oh, I dont know. The fact that you can't seem to keep your tongue out of my mouth?

"I..I just thought—"

You swallowed.

His eyes narrowed.

And you lost your ability to speak all over again.

Even if you had meant to say it, would it really have been so wrong to entertain the idea that he might have changed his mind about you? 

After all, every time you'd kissed, he had been the one to initiate it. When he came to collect the supplies tonight, you may have been the one to pull him into your arms, but he embraced you back. Whenever he called you princess, the nickname rolled off of his tongue like honey. 

Felix was the king of sending mixed signals, and you had half a mind to call him out for it, if you could just focus long enough to form a coherent sentence. But as always, for reasons you still couldn't quite understand, you lost all composure when it came to the freckled boy standing in front of you now.

Felix brought his hands up to rest against the wall on either side of you, closing you in.

You traced his freckles with your eyes, counting them to distract yourself from the thoughts that ran through your head, and the throbbing sensation between your legs when his breath fell hot against your lips. 

Felix was decent at making himself appear threatening when he wanted to. You should have been intimidated, but unfortunately for him, it had quite the opposite effect on you. The false sense of danger was incredibly enticing—arousing even, because you knew, or at least you thought you did in that moment, that he would never actually hurt you. 

If only you could just stay in control and refrain from thinking with your pussy for five fucking seconds, something that had been proven to be nearly impossible whenever you were alone with him. Especially when you could literally see it in his eyes that his own desires were just as corrupt as yours.

Felix leaned down, allowing his lips to brush against yours agonizingly slow before pulling back to speak. "What makes you think I'm not just using you like the rest of them? What makes you think I won’t turn on you in a second if I have to, to protect what’s mine?" 

Mine. 

He drew out the last word, voice coarse and low and thick with that damned accent, and suddenly you had never needed anything quite as badly as you needed to become something that Felix considered his.

No. You needed him to make you his, in every possible way.

Screw holding back. Why couldn’t you be the one to send a few mixed signals yourself? Its not like your relationship with him was ever very stable to begin with. It's not like your mental status ever had much of a chance at surviving any of this, either.

You brought a hand up to push a stray piece of long, black hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear. It was soft and had grown quickly, even longer now than the first time you'd met not so long ago. The hand you used to push back the loose strand became tangled in the locks at the back of his neck. You tugged, because you knew he liked it, pleased when the action earned a deep grunt from somewhere within his chest.

If you couldn't keep yourself in control tonight then you would at least be the one to decide how you lost it. 

You pulled at his hair until he hissed at the pain. And then, you leaned in. Glancing up at him through hooded eyes, you spoke, barely above a whisper. “You’re obviously torn. Let me help you.” 

And before he had the chance to respond, it was you who moved to close the space between your lips.

For the first time, it was you. 

You grabbed his wrists, pulling them down and shifting your bodies so that you were now the one pinning him against the wall. You put all of your frustration into the kiss. Frustration over his confusing mixed signals and his perfect fucking lips and the fact that you just couldn't shake the feeling that he and the others had secrets that you didn't even begin to understand.

The others. Right.

"Felix—" you broke the kiss to remind him of their impending arrival, but he only took your momentary distraction as an opportunity to take hold of your waist and push you back against the wall, reclaiming control.

Felix was well aware that they could be here at any second. 

He just didn’t care. 

He pulled you back into a deliberate kiss, pressing himself up against you once again. The obvious bulge in his pants becoming harder to ignore.

“Say it again. My name princess,” he growled against your lips. And suddenly, the others were so far gone from your mind that you couldn't even remember their names.

In your head there was only one name and you made sure to draw out every single syllable when you said it for a second time.

“Maybe you don’t trust me, Felix. But I think you want to. More than you’d like to admit.”

And with that, you abandoned all restraint, allowing your needy hands to fall down to his belt. You let out a frustrated sigh into his mouth, fiddling with the clasp that was unlike anything you had ever come across on the clothing worn in the palace. Felix reached down to help, ensuring that your lips stayed connected the entire time.

As soon as the clasp was released and his zipper was undone, you slipped a hand down the front of his jeans to palm his rock hard length. He breathed out a low, guttural moan into your mouth that had you absolutely aching for him.

Every rational thought that popped into your head was consumed by the overwhelming need to have him inside of you right then. And you would have gotten everything you wanted and more, if it weren't for the sound of footsteps, voices, and two very heavy doors closing downstairs.

“Fuck,” he growled.

You couldn't have said it better yourself, seeing as this was now the second time you'd been so cruelly interrupted. Although this time, you were remarkably more flustered than the last—embarrassingly so. The wet spot in your panties having soaked through the thin material long before your lips had even touched his.

Felix drew back as the others entered the building below. A thin line of saliva connected your lips and you let out a defeated sigh.

The throbbing emptiness between your legs would have to wait. Again.

Panting heavily, Felix pressed his sweaty forehead against your own. It had taken every single fiber in his being to keep from touching you again, when all he could think about was bending you over and fucking you right there against the wall, until you cried pretty tears of pleasure from your pretty, pretty eyes.

His cock was painfully hard, but he didn't have any choice but to ignore it. Nobody could know about the two of you. At least, not until he figured out exactly what it was between you.

And besides, he wasn't going to give Hyunjin the satisfaction.

The voices downstairs grew louder with every passing moment. Time was slipping away, despite the fact that Felix would have given anything to make it stop. He was selfish, maybe. But he wasn't greedy—just needed a few more minutes with you all to himself. To feel you around him, just once.

As if he would ever be so lucky.

“You’re right,” he leaned down to kiss you again, softer this time.

When he pulled back you followed his lips with your own, letting out a soft wine in protest.

“You’re right and I think," he placed another delicate kiss to your lips between words, "you’ll be the death of me princess.” 

One last kiss, one last touch of his forehead to yours with closed eyes before he turned and made his way toward the staircase, fixing his belt as he went. 

Felix didn't wait for you, and he didn’t look back—leaving you alone in the company of the shadows to contemplate once again the severity of the situation you had gotten yourself into, as his words echoed throughout your head.

You’ll be the death of me, princess.

Adrenaline filled the room with electricity as the boys piled in downstairs, relishing in the night's success. You, on the other hand, were much more hesitant to let your guard down. More than a little paranoid that your father would come crashing through the doors any moment to rip you from your newfound freedom. Nevertheless, their energy did help to calm your nerves as it was obvious that they trusted you were safe for the night.

That or they were just really, really good at keeping calm in life or death situations....After all, at the end of the day, they were still just a misfit group of eight boys your age. Something that had been easy to forget, all things considered.

All eyes were on you when you appeared at the top of the staircase, except for Felix, who had his back turned to you at the bottom. When your feet hit the main floor, Chan hurried over and put an arm around you. The sudden contact caused you to stiffen, but it didn't take long for you to relax into his touch. 

"We did it, y/n."

We did it. We.

Screw Felix and his earlier warning.

It doesn't mean they trust you, and it certainly doesn't guarantee that they ever will.

Screw your own paranoid thoughts for making you doubt their intention, for doubting Chan, even if it was only for a moment.

It was going to take some time to get used to the fact that you were no longer the prisoner of a life built upon your father's lies. Maybe there didn't have to be some ulterior motive behind it all this time.

It seemed as though Chan already thought of you as one of their own. And Jisung too, judging by the radiant smile plastered across his face when he looked your way. The butterflies in your stomach returned at full force as you shied away from meeting his eyes.

Unable to help yourself, you shot a quick glance across the room—to where Felix was now engrossed in a hushed conversation with Hyunjin, ignoring you completely, as if you didn't have your hands down the front of his pants less than three minutes ago.

As if you wouldn't have been able to turn him into a mess underneath your touch all over again, if everyone else were to suddenly disappear.

You huffed, turning back to Chan and the others. 

Once the boys had brought the majority of the supplies inside, where they would keep them until you left for Miroh, you stuck to Chan's side as the group made their way out to the backyard—where Minho and Changbin were working to start a small fire. It was dim, just enough to keep warm without drawing attention. 

Minho glanced up when you came around the corner, the sharp features of his face outlined by the gentle flames.

"Are you really sure we should be out here right now?" you lowered your voice just enough so that only Chan could hear you in the midst of the excitement. 

He looked to you with a reassuring smile. "We're safe here, at least for the night. Felix probably told you this already, but the others were able to take out a good majority of your fathers vehicles." 

No actually, he was a bit too preoccupied earlier to mention it.

"And besides," he added, "would you be able to sleep right now?"

He had a point.

You nodded, but your apprehension lingered.

When you turned your attention back to the group, Jeongin had been summoned to keep first watch on the roof. Despite his best protests, he gave in eventually, sulking his way back toward the front of the building. His youthful demeanor was endearing, although you were sure there was much more to him underneath the surface.

He wouldn't have made it this far if there wasn't.

Changbin announced to the group that he was going to collect more firewood and Felix wasted no time in volunteering himself to join. You watched intently as they disappeared into the trees. 

The rest of the boys took their respective places around the fire, aside from Jisung who had stayed inside the building earlier, insisting that he would be out to join the rest of the group later.

At your feet, Chan was shifting through a sizable bag that you had filled to the brim with food from the palace kitchens—food collected by Jisoo, who had watched you willingly leave the palace tonight. Jisoo who, by now, would have been summoned to your fathers study to reveal every single detail of what she'd witnessed. And she would have complied, if she wanted her family to survive the night.

If your father had been in your position, Jisoo would've been dead the second she wandered out of the tunnels and caught sight of you with the boys. You hated yourself for questioning if it was the right decision to leave her behind. You hated yourself even more when it crossed your mind, for the smallest fraction of a second, that maybe you should learn to be more like your father if you were going to have any chance at surviving out here.

You bit down on your lip to suppress the sudden influx of emotion at the thought of your former best (and only) friend, and the betrayal she must have felt watching you leave tonight.

You shifted on your feet, observing as Chan pulled a boiled sweet potato from the bag. "Why is it orange.." he muttered under his breath after peeling the skin back.

His puzzled expression caused a weak smile to pull at the corners of your mouth. "It's a—"

"Sweet potato."

You were immediately taken aback when Minho chimed in from his place next to Chan, in an attempt to finish your sentence for you—the two of you speaking the final word in unison. Your eyebrows knitted together and you squinted through the darkness to study his face as his eyes remained trained on the flames.

Chan looked between the two of you and shrugged, reaching into the bag for more. He took out handfuls of food and passed it around to each of the boys. They tore into it and your heart sank at the realization that it had probably been longer than you'd thought since they'd last eaten. He looked up and held some out to you but you declined, shaking your head.

Its not that you weren't hungry, your stomach was actively protesting with your brain to accept the food, it just felt wrong to take any for yourself when they were eating like they hadn't in years and you'd had an endless supply your entire life.

Eventually you would have to get over it, but you could go one night without.

You stood for a moment longer, ultimately deciding on settling down next to Seungmin who was fiddling with the bow and arrow that you'd managed to secure from the training room tonight.

"I might be shit with a gun, but this I can work with," he spoke without looking up as you took your place next to him on the grass.

"Then its yours," you assured him.

Seungmin seemed friendly enough, and you liked that he was relatively quiet. He also happened to be on the opposite side of the circle from Minho—who you now had a clear view of across the flames. You examined him, unable to help but notice that the way he held himself didn't quite match the others.

That his posture was just slightly straighter.

How he held his head just a little bit higher.

It was peculiar—like his interruption earlier, but you brushed it off.

Hyunjin had isolated himself in the grass a bit further from the group, with his light brown locks tucked behind his ears, bangs falling down in his eyes, while he scribbled something down into a worn out journal of his own. It looked like a sketch, although it was difficult to discern through the darkness.

You stretched your hands out toward the flames. Closing your eyes, you listened as the boys talked in between themselves, ignoring the fact that the one voice you really wanted to hear was missing. 

Shortly after everyone had made themselves comfortable, just as you were beginning to feel yourself slip into that limbo between consciousness and sleep, the sound of glass clinking together caused your eyes to snap open again.

You were met with the sight of Jisung as he came strolling in from around the corner with three shiny bottles in his arms. He jogged over and plopped down on your other side, lightly brushing your shoulder with his own as he tossed a bottle to Chan over the fire. He reached across you to hand another to Seungmin, keeping the last one for himself. The two tapped the bottles together before Jisung popped the top and took a swig. His face contorted and he bared his teeth as he swallowed. After taking another sip, he turned and offered the bottle to you, raising the eyebrow with the metal piercing

"Told you I'd save one for you. It'll make you feel better, promise," he flashed you another bright smile and you wondered if the pretty boy in front of you had ever heard the word 'no' in his entire life.

He certainly wasn't going to hear it from you.

You wrapped your hand around the bottle and put it to your lips. 

The liquor was nothing like the wine served in the palace. It burned as it made its way down your throat and you sputtered at the sensation, which made Jisung burst into a laugh. It was hearty and sincere, and it took a moment for you to realized that you had actually laughed with him. A sound so unfamiliar it was as if it had come from a stranger.

You took another sip.

The seconds turned to minutes. Five, ten, fifteen, until it became too difficult to keep track of time any longer. The liquor began to cloud your senses, and you welcomed it with open arms. You'd never been drunk before, you weren't even sure if you were drunk now, but whatever it was felt fucking amazing as your worries slipped further away with every sip.

Chan was immersed in conversation with Minho across the fire, Hyunjin had yet to lift his head from the drawing he was so intently focused on, and Seungmin lay against the ground with his eyes closed, humming a wistful melody in perfect pitch.

Meanwhile, you and Jisung had passed the bottle back and forth so many times you'd lost count. With sparkling eyes and animated hand gestures, he was excitedly telling you about the night they'd found Yellow Wood nearly five years ago. You nodded along, despite the fact that, although you did have genuine interest in the story (and his appearance), you weren't really listening at all.

Your focus was entirely lost to the the tree line behind him. 

Just as he handed the liquor out to you again, two shadowy figures stepped out from the trees into the clearing. You brought the bottle to your lips, eyes locked on their every move.

On his every move.

Felix scanned the group, and when his eyes landed on yours the buzz in your head caused a few drops to slip out onto your chin. You coughed, handing the bottle to Jisung who, without warning, covered his hand with his sleeve and brought it up to wipe the alcohol from your chin. Your eyes widened but Jisung was oblivious as he took the bottle back, chiming in to whatever Chan was saying across the fire. 

When you looked back to Felix, he had stopped moving. Frozen in time, with his jaw tightly clenched and his hand crumpled into a fist at his side. Changbin called out to him from the spot he'd taken next to Chan, and the others fell silent one by one as Felix stared daggers at Jisung. After his name was repeated for a third time, Felix finally marched over to join the others. His movement was stiff and you kept his fiery gaze in your peripherals, unable to ignore when it shifted to you. 

Chan cleared his throat before quickly resuming the conversation, which was probably a good thing because Felix wasn't being subtle at all. 

The liquor made your head spin. 

Felix made your head spin. 

You took another sip. 

"And we couldn't have done it without you, y/n," Chan's voice cut through your thoughts at the mention of your name.

"What you risked tonight doesn't go unnoticed. Make yourself comfortable here before we leave for Miroh. I think we'll take tomorrow to come up with some kind of plan, which we'll need your help with. You know better than any of us the routes we'll need to take to have the best chance at avoiding your father out there."

A few of the others nodded in agreement, and you couldn't deny that it felt good to be included by Chan as if you were one of their own, even if you knew he wasn't speaking for everyone. Even if the mention of your father brought you back to feeling powerless for a moment, it was a brief moment, thanks to the multitude of distractions around you.

"Whats ours is yours. Thank you." Chan finished by lifting a bottle in your direction, and Jisung let out an exaggerated applause. Seungmin reached behind you to give him a playful smack on the back of the head, which Changbin seemed to enjoy. Minho remained stoic, Hyunjin had yet to look up from his journal, and Felix..

Felix, Felix, Felix.

Brown eyes had always been your favorite and his were stunning, even more so with the flames reflected in them. They didn't leave you for a second, not even when he snatched the bottle from Chan and gulped down the alcohol like it was water.

His lips glistened when he pulled it away, and you shifted position in an attempt to feel any small ounce of friction between your legs. The tension between the two of you was nothing less than palpable at this point, and you knew for a fact that the others could feel it too.

But you didn't care.

You could only think of how badly you wanted to be alone with him again, even just for a little while. As long as it was without any interruptions.

Your attention was ripped from Felix when Jisung offered you the last sip in your shared bottle. Just as you were preparing to decline, due to the strong suspicion that you were already going to have a headache in the morning, Jeongin reappeared from around the building.

He waltzed over to Jisung, reaching for the bottle, and frown quickly spread across his lips when he realized it was nearly empty. "I told you to save me some!" he whined through a pout.

"Don't blame me, District nine over here can drink!"Jisung pointed to where you sat behind him, and you shoved his shoulder.

The intensity from Felix magnified tenfold when you your hands fell against Jisung, and you briefly considered touching him again. 

Just to see.

"I like her," Seungmin chimed in from behind you. And you pulled a face at Jisung, smirking and raising your own eyebrow.

After coming to the conclusion that neither Jisung nor Seungmin were in any state to keep watch, Jeongin turned to survey the other half of the group. "Feelix," a wide grin spread across his face, and your ears perked up at the name.

Felix stood abruptly. Tossing Chan's now empty liquor bottle to the ground, he pushed past the younger boy without speaking a word.

“Was it something I said?” Jeongin looked to the rest of the group and Jisung shrugged as he got up to go relieve himself in the woods.

Seungmin lay back down against the ground with a thud, groaning as he rubbed his head. “You shouldgo,” he slurred out, looking up at you from his place on the grass.

“What—” you turned to face him, realizing that your eyes hadn't left the spot where Felix had disappeared around the building. 

He nudged his head in the same direction. “The view from the roof is craazy at night.”

“Y-yeah but I don't—"

“y/n just go. I know you want to. I won’t tell,” he put a finger to his lips and gestured around the circle to the others who, at this point, were either passed out or too intoxicated to notice your absence. Even Jeongin had made himself quite comfortable using Seungmin's thigh as a pillow, eyelids growing heavier with every passing second.

With another reassuring nod from Seungmin, you stood. The full effects of the alcohol that you had ingested hit you at full force when you began to move.

Had you chosen to remain outside, you were certain that you would have fallen asleep eventually underneath the stars, surrounded by the boys who offered you some small sense of security, even if they hadn't fully accepted you. And yet, here you were chasing after Felix like a lost puppy. With the worst part being that, as much as you would have liked to pretend that your intentions were purely innocent, that you only wanted to check up on the freckled boy and nothing more, it would have been impossible to deny that you knew exactly what you were doing.

Making sure to keep your distance, you trailed behind Felix around to the front of the building where he disappeared inside. You slipped through the front doors just in time to watch him turn the corner upstairs. The room spinned and you had to grab onto the bannister of the staircase as you stumbled up it, abandoning any attempt at staying quiet.

Immediately upon turning the corner at the top of the stairs you, let out a small yelp when you were encompassed by a pair of strong arms from behind. In one swift movement, they pulled you in until your back made contact with a toned chest, and you were unable to help the faint smile that spread across your lips when you felt his heartbeat thud against your back.

Jisung was right—you did feel better. Although you were sure the alcohol was no longer to thank. 

Felix turned you around in his arms, and you could smell the alcohol on his breath when he reached for your hand. He took it without a word, guiding you in the direction of a dark hallway lined by closed doors.

At the end of the hallway, he turned and led you through one final door into a large open space. The ceiling was higher here, and in some spots it was so eroded that you could see straight through it to the floor above. The surrounding space looked like it had been designed as multiple separate rooms, although the walls between them had since been knocked down. You recalled the word 'Hotel' in faded writing above the front doors. Having no idea what it meant, your curiosity surrounding Yellow Wood and its original purpose grew.

You wondered how long it had been here and who had lived in it before the boys, hundreds of years ago, when it looked how it was supposed to look. 

Broken windows decorated the outer wall, but you didn't mind when the cool breeze hit your face—flushed from exhaustion, and the alcohol, and your close proximity to Felix. The air tasted sweet, and—like Seungmin's melody—it made you nostalgic for a life you'd never had. 

You hoped the people who lived here before were able to have that sort of life.

Felix dragged you across the moonlit space, your hands still clasped together. "I'm surprised Jisung let you leave," he mumbled underneath his breath. And you wondered if he'd actually meant for you to hear him.

Either way, jealousy looked good on Felix. 

You came to a halt, tugging on his hand, unable to help the giggle that escaped you when he turned around. The alcohol in your veins gave you the courage to lift your head and plant a kiss directly on his lips, wiping off the scowl. "I saw the way you looked at him,"  you smiled against him.

"Its not that..He's just..I just..Fuck come on. I'm supposed to be keeping watch," his tone was serious, but as he pulled away you caught him try to hide the faintest hint of a smile.

Jealousy looked good on Felix, but whatever that was, it looked better.

He led you to an open space on the outer wall where he pulled back a curtain to reveal a balcony made entirely of wooden planks.

Wooden planks that appeared..Less than stable.

"There," he nudged his head in the direction across the balcony where you observed a rickety iron ladder. It scaled the side of the building, leading up to the roof.

Felix took a step onto the balcony and you hesitantly followed his lead, freezing when you peered down over the edge. The edge that also happened to be missing a railing.

"It's alright. I've got you," he tightened his grip on your hand, and you were able to tear your eyes from the endless darkness below.

The gentle tone in his voice was a stark contrast from what you were used to receiving from not only Felix, but everyone else in your life. His attitude was also much more relaxed than you'd ever seen it, and you were certain that the alcohol (and the fact that you were no longer sitting next to Jisung) was to thank. 

With a little help from Felix, you steadied yourself on the ladder—which was considerably more difficult than it should've been due to the spinning sensation in your head, but you managed to climb to the top. You pulled yourself over the edge of the short wall that lined the perimeter of the rooftop, and when you looked up from dusting off your pants, your jaw dropped.

Even through the shadows, the rooftop was its own kind of beautiful. Thick vines and foliage weaved throughout rubble on the ground, reaching all the way up to wooden beams that covered the spaced above. It resembled a hidden fortress that you had a feeling was even more enchanting during the daytime.

You recognized the black hoodie that belonged to Felix thrown on top of a small pile of blankets in the corner.

Did he sleep here often? Had he ever thought of you while he lie there, like you'd thought of him when you struggled to fall asleep in your own bed at the palace?

Get it together, y/n.

You stepped away from his side, making your way over to the short wall at the edge of the rooftop, resting your hands on it and straining your eyes as far as you could see.

Across the vast landscape, muted orange and yellow light from lanterns vaguely outlined buildings in Districts 7 and 8. Taller buildings stood even further beyond, in what you could only assume to be District 9. Behind you, an ocean of darkness extended into nothing toward the outer districts. 

You shuddered at the thought before taking it all in for a second time, until you came across something in the distance that you hadn't noticed the before.

A thick cloud of smoke, rising up from a faint dot on the horizon.

The sight of it—the realization of what it represented, was more than sobering. 

You turned and slid your back down the wall until you reached the pile of blankets at the bottom, hugging your knees while your heart raced. 

Felix crouched down next to you with his own back against the wall.

He looked to the moon, and it illuminated his features beautifully. He was beautiful. Beautiful enough to distract you from the nauseating surge of emotions that had fallen over you at the sight of your father's palace. Far more beautiful than anything in the sky above, so you turned to rest your head against the wall—choosing to look at him instead. 

He did the same, and when your eyes met, you knew without question that the sight of him there would be embedded permanently in your mind until the moment you died.

After a moment, his expression faltered. Almost as if he was fighting something within himself. And you were too, although it didn't take long at all for you to give in tonight—allowing yourself to succumb to whatever it was that had been pulling you together since the moment you'd met.

Before you'd even had time to process what he was doing, Felix reached over and pulled you into his lap. Your knees landed on the hard ground on either side of him, your lips connecting instantly with his. He didn't need words to tell you that he'd been waiting for this moment just as badly as you. 

You cushioned his head with your hand when he leaned back against the wall. The kisses deepened to your usual pace as you allowed his tongue entrance to your mouth, and his hands found their way to your hips to guide them as you began to move, rocking back and forth. 

So much for keeping watch. 

His lips fell down to your neck where he left a trail of sloppy wet kisses. You moaned, far louder than you had intended, when he bit down at the sensitive skin. "Fuck, Felix—" you struggled to catch your breath, "you'll leave a mark."

"Don't care. It'll look good on you," he smirked against your skin, and you wondered if he thought Jisung would agree. 

You grabbed his hands and brought them up to your breasts, where he kneaded at the soft flesh over your clothing as the kisses became more desperate.

A little afraid being interrupted for a third time, you wasted no time in undressing—actions sloppy due to exhaustion, lust, and the lingering effects of the alcohol. But at this point you were both sober enough to make it more than clear how badly you wanted each other. 

Felix helped you take off your shirt before removing his own and tossing it to the side. You slipped out of your pants while he undid his belt for the second time that night. He shoved his jeans and underwear down to his thighs allowing his cock to spring free. It slapped up against his abdomen, leaving a small trail of pre-cum. You bit down on your lip to stifle another moan at the sight of it.

"Like what you see?" he looked up with an arrogance that you couldn't even be mad at him for, because he had every right to be arrogant.

His nails dug deep crescent shapes into the bare skin at your hips, the silver rings on his fingers making you shiver. When you dropped back down into his lap, his thick length swiped across your folds and you gasped as the head of his cock made contact with your clit.

"Need you," you whimpered against his lips. And Felix was more than happy to oblige, wasting no time in aligning himself with your entrance. You closed your eyes to prepare for the stretch as the tip of his cock teased at your dripping heat, whining his name in protest when he hesitated.  

"Just promise me one thing princess," his breathless words came out heavily muffled by your lips. 

"Anything," you croaked, burying your face in the side of his neck. And it was true, in that moment you would've told him absolutely anything he wanted to hear, if it meant that you'd finally get to feel him inside of you.

"D-don't," he swallowed, in an attempt to regain enough composure to speak.

"Don't let me love you." 

You pulled back with your arms still wrapped around his neck, meeting his piercing brown eyes that were already staring back. You glanced over his face through the darkness, studying something in his expression that nobody had ever looked at you with before.

Should you have stopped to ask what he meant by it? Probably. But you'd done a spectacular job of numbing your emotions up to this point, and you weren't about to fight that now.

Not when every single aspect of your future was uncertain, including the promise of tomorrow. And selfishly, you needed Felix right now more than you ever would've allowed yourself to admit—to keep your mind from spiraling down into a place that scared you even more than it did to be completely vulnerable with him.

"I promise. I just want to forget, Lix, please," you kissed him again, "please just make me forget."

Felix didn’t have to ask what you meant, because he'd been there all too many times before in his own life.

He didn't quite understand why, and maybe he never would, but it destroyed him to hear you utter those words in your current defenseless state—begging him to make it all disappear.

He would have taken it from you in a heartbeat, if he could've. Every fear caused by every painful memory, every burden that came with the blood that ran through your veins—he would have accepted it all for himself if it meant that he never had to witness an ounce of pain behind your pretty eyes ever again.

But Felix was only human, after all. And if the only thing he could offer was to make you forget, even if just for tonight, then that is exactly what he would do.

Not once in your life had you spent a single night outside the walls of the palace. Until now.

The smell of fresh air, mixed with the gentle breeze against your skin, would have been absolutely serene it weren’t for the splitting headache that kept your eyes squeezed shut. It only seemed to worsen as you recalled what had led to you waking up outside like this.

On the rooftop. Alone. 

You didn’t need to open your eyes to feel his absence.

You'd fallen asleep in only your thin shirt with his warm chest pressed up against your back. His arms had been wrapped tightly around you as he drew circles on your skin with his fingertips, tracing the faint marks left by those same fingertips just moments before. 

When you'd fallen asleep you were warm, protected, safe.

And so was he. Most importantly, so was he. 

But now, as you opened your heavy eyelids, you were cold, exposed, alone.

You should have known better, really. 

You'd made it clear that last night was only meant to be a distraction and Felix had been in total agreement. Even if there had been a small part of you that had hoped to wake up in his arms—which there wasn't—it's not like you'd actually expected to.

At least he’d had the decency to cover you with his jacket before he left. 

You slipped your arms through it and his scent invited you to feel safe again for a moment before coming to your senses.

You reached for the rest of your clothing that had been folded into a neat pile beside you, something you were almost certain you hadn't done yourself before falling asleep last night. Putting your head in your hands, you let out a frustrated groan at your own stupidity as you began to recall the events of last night.

You could still feel where he had placed sloppy, open mouthed kisses on your skin. Where he had put his hands to steady himself while he was fucking into you. And if you'd lifted your shirt, you were certain that you would have observed faint bruises on the skin underneath. Bruises that perfectly matched the shape of his fingertips.

After getting dressed, you climbed down the ladder and slipped back inside the building that was much less intimidating underneath the morning light. Less intimidating and more..Misunderstood. If you could call a place that.

You found your way back down the hallway and when you turned the corner at the top of the staircase, you caught sight of Chan and Minho near the entrance below, engaged in what appeared to be a fairly heated discussion. Their heads snapped up simultaneously upon your arrival, eyes falling to the jacket that you had forgotten you were still wearing—Felix's jacket.

You shrugged it off when you made your way down the stairs, as if they hadn't already caught sight of you wearing it like a trophy.

Nice, y/n.

When you reached the bottom, Chan hurried over. He glanced down to your neck for a fraction of a second, and you were instantly reminded of how Felix had taken it upon himself to mark you in the same place last night.

Fucking fantastic.

Chan cleared his throat. “Have you..uh, seen Felix this morning?”

“W-what why would I—" your shaky voice betrayed you as more particularly intimate details from last night came flooding back.

You reached up to press against your temple in an attempt to calm the pounding headache and regain control of your thoughts. “No, I haven’t,” you choked out, unable to meet Chans eyes. 

“I fucking told you he took the bike, it was already gone when I got up this morning," Minho stepped up to join Chan beside you. It was the first time you had heard him speak up close and his voice was honey smooth, even when he cursed.

Chan let out a heavy sigh before pinching the scar along the bridge of his nose, a habit of his that you'd picked up on. “Let’s go. We might have a chance to catch up to him if we take the—” 

“What's going on?” their heads spun around at your sudden interruption, almost as if they had forgotten you were there at all.

Minho turned back to Chan, ignoring you completely.

“How the hell are we supposed to find him when—"

“We need to try,” Chan's voice strained, and it was becoming increasingly more difficult to ignore the way his entire boy was beginning to tense.

“Oh, well that should be easy enough considering there’s only nine districts. At least there aren’t ten. At least there isn't an entire fucking army looking to put a bullet in each of our heads right now.” Minho’s voice was dripping with sarcasm, and you might have been able to appreciate it, if it weren't for your growing concern.

“What is going on?” You repeated more forcefully, although your confidence was short lived.

Minho snarled. “You mean Felix didn’t willingly offer up his deepest darkest secrets to the daughter of the man that wants us all dead? Or maybe he was just too busy sucking that mark into your neck," he turned his entire body to stare directly at the spot where your hair was (apparently) doing a very poor job of covering the deep purple bruise. 

You recoiled at the harshness in his voice, reaching a shaky hand up to move your hair.

"Min. Don't," Chan shot him a glare, and Minho rolled his eyes.

When Chan looked back to you, his expression softened. "I'm sure you've figured out by now that none of us have had it easy, y/n. We all have a past that we want to erase, and most of us have. Felix just has a tendency to let his catch up to him sometimes."

Minho scoffed. "You could say that. Just be glad you’re not the one patching him up every time it catches up to him—"

"If you're not coming then I’ll go by myself," Chan cut him off again.

A muscle twitched in Minho's jaw before he turned to follow Chan, who was now heading for the doors.

With your concern for Felix overpowering your better judgement, you chased after them.

When you caught up, Chan turned and put a firm hand on your shoulder. "No, y/n. Not this time, I’m sorry."

You knew why he'd stopped you, and he was right to do it.

It wasn't worth the risk of you being caught by your father, just for you to accompany them on some heroic side quest to save Felix from whatever danger he appeared to have gotten himself into. But with last night still lingering in your mind, you'd entirely forgotten about the current state of the world outside the walls of Yellow Wood. Including the fact that there was now a very expensive price on your head.

"Maybe if I just—"

"Y/n," Chan's voice was commanding, but before you could protest any further the front doors creaked in front of you. All three of you whipped your heads toward the sound as the doors opened to reveal the freckled boy who had left you alone on the rooftop this morning.

Judging by his expression, it was obvious that he hadn't expected to walk inside and come face to face with the three of you staring back.

He looked first to Chan, next to Minho, and then, he let his eyes fall to yours briefly before another interruption arose behind you. 

"Damn, what’s with the energy in here?" Jisung stepped out into the light from somewhere deeper within the main floor, covering a yawn with his hand.

Felix took the sudden distraction as his chance to slip the rest of the way through the door. Without slowing his pace, he tore his jacket from your hands and climbed swiftly up the stairs, with Chan calling after him to no avail.

"You know I think I'm just gonna.." Jisung pointed behind himself with his thumb and took a few steps backward before turning to leave. Minho looked to Chan and the two shared a silent word before Minho followed after Jisung.

"What the hell is going on?" you repeated for a third time, hoping you might be able to get an actual answer out of Chan now that the two of you were alone.

He looked you up and down, chewing on the inside of his cheek, clearly trying to decide whether or not to include you in on a secret that might not be entirely his to tell.

"Please Chan. I need to know that I made the right choice. I need to know that you trust me."

A little manipulative, maybe, but you were desperate.

After a moment of consideration, he let out a defeated sigh. "Fine. Just..Not here. Come with me."

And then, he took your arm and dragged you through the front doors.

The forest that surrounded Yellow Wood, like the building itself, was far less intimidating when it wasn't distorted by darkness. It felt easier to breathe here, underneath the trees. And if the circumstances had been different, you might have liked to stay for a while. Forever, maybe.

You walked beside Chan in silence until you came up on a small stream. He sat down at the bank and you did the same, crossing your legs and resting your hands against the earth behind you. Digging your fingers in the dirt, you watched as he visibly struggled to find the words to begin. "Like I said, y/n. We all have a past we want to erase. Even Minho, who grew up in District nine if you can believe that. It's how he knows what he does about healing."

What.

Minho and his polished mannerisms, the way he carried himself, it all made sense when you really thought about it. But you'd just assumed that all of the boys were from the outer districts. And so, the revelation that Minho was actually from District nine of all places, brought rise to a thousand more questions. Questions that would have to wait, because you weren’t about to interrupt Chan now.

When he opened his mouth again, you braced yourself as best you could for whatever he was preparing say. "Minho has seen some dark shit. But Felix..I don’t even know half of what he's been through. We're both from District two. Felix doesn’t talk much about his life before, but I know enough from the state he was in when I found him. Before we met, he was part of a group of people—if you can call them that—so horrible they would give even your father a run for his money. A different breed of evil. They killed his mother, and then they took him and conditioned him to be like them. Its what they do—take kids from parents who are unable to fight back and turn them into monsters. They force them to steal for them, to hunt for them, to kill for them. But Felix is good by nature, I know he is and I know you see it too.”

He paused to take in a shaky breath, letting it out as a steady exhale. "I knew the moment we met that I had to get him out of there. It’s a long story, but they’re not the kind of people that just let you leave. Even now, whenever they catch up to us again, whenever they find him again, I always know because he starts disappearing. Sometimes he'll be gone for two or three days at a time, and when he finally does come back, he looks like shit. Usually covered in bruises, and theres nothing I can do. I don't even know what he does when he's with them but I know its them. He won't talk to me about it, no matter how much I try to convince him that he's safe with us and that he doesn’t have to go keep going back. But they’ve got their claws buried so deep in him that he just won’t listen, even after all this time."

He turned to face you. “He wont listen to me but I thought, maybe he might listen to you."

“Wh—why would you think he would listen to me?" you choked out.

His eyes fell to your neck before dropping to the ground, where he picked up a small stone and began to fidget with it between his fingers. "The first thing to know about Felix is that he doesn’t let people in. It took years for him to accept me and the others the way he does now. I know for a fact that if it wasn’t for me he wouldn’t be involved in any of this—the raid, Miroh, going up against your father. But he puts himself right in the middle of it all because he is so damn loyal. And that's the second thing to know about Felix. Once you do earn his trust, you will have it until the day you die. He will do anything for you."

You nodded, encouraging him to continue seeing as he still hadn't answered your question.

Chan cleared his throat. "The third thing about Felix..Is that I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Never. Not anyone. He’s been through a lot, y/n. I worry about him. I care about him, and thats why I’m telling you this. Because..I think you do too.”

To say that you were speechless would have been an understatement.

You gave him a weak, reassuring smile because it was the only form of response that you could manage through the tightness in your chest and the ringing in your ears.

He thinks you care about Felix?

You have no idea, Chan.

You have no fucking idea.

You were more than thankful Chan didn't press you for any further response on the way back. It was a lot to process—beyond a lot. Because not only were you trying to wrap your mind around the truth about Felix and his past, you were also trying to deal with your own rapidly changing feelings for him.

Despite the things he had been through in his life, things that you couldn't even begin to understand, you were certain that there were parts of Felix that even a past as awful as his would never have been able to take from him. You had caught brief glimpses of those parts of him when it was just the two of you. You saw it in his eyes. Heard it in his voice. Felt it in his touch when he..

Maybe Chan was right about there being a chance that he would listen to you. 

You picked up your pace, allowing Chan to fall behind.

Finally, you stepped across the tree line into the clearing where the backside of Yellow Wood came into view. It took everything you had not to completely abandon Chan and run inside. You were strongly considering it, until you movement caught your attention up ahead.

A figure dressed in ragged clothing had his back to you as he walked along the backside of the building. At first glance, you assumed it was one of the boys, but it quickly became clear that something wasn’t right. Chan came up behind you and you could quite literally feel the shift in energy the moment he laid his own eyes on the stranger.

When he reached out for you, to ensure that you didn’t take another step, a stick snapped underneath the weight of his foot. 

It obliterated the silence, and you let out a breath you hadn't even realized you'd been holding in. Cursing at him in your head.

The stranger spun around in an instant, in search of the source of the sound. He fit right in with the majority of the population you'd come across outside of District 9. Slender build, long hair streaked with gray that fell down around the skeletal features of his face. Except, there was something about this particular man that made the hair on the back of your neck stand straight up. 

Intuition, maybe. 

That, or the malicious look in his eyes. 

The three of you stood at a standstill, which may have gone on for quite some time if Changbin and Minho hadn’t come strolling around the corner up ahead, completely oblivious to the severity of the situation they had just stumbled into.

Everything that happened next happened in a blur. 

Chan called out for Minho, shoving you behind him. The man tried to run but was easily overpowered by Changbin as he pushed him to the ground.

Chan hurried to join them and, after regaining your balance, you did the same. He dropped to the ground, helping Changbin to pull the man’s arms behind his back.

"There's some rope in the back of the truck that we can use to tie him," he grunted as the man struggled in his grasp. And Minho took off running in the direction of the vehicle.

The intruder spit out vulgar curses at the boys until his eyes came to you and he fell silent, slowly licking his lips. “Where’d you find this pretty thing—” he was cut off by Changbin who delivered a swift punch to his jaw.

“Shut. The. Fuck. Up,” Changbin spoke through gritted teeth.

"Get inside y/n," Chan ordered, although you were a bit too stunned to comprehend his words.

When you didn’t move, he spoke again in a more authoritative tone.

"Now."

You swallowed and forced yourself to peel your eyes from the man on the ground. But before you could take a single step, Hyunjin came sprinting around the corner. "We heard shouting—" 

We. 

You craned your neck to find Felix standing motionless behind him, eyes so wide you could see the whites surrounding them. The color drained from his face with every passing second, as if he was staring at a ghost. 

That or something much, much worse.

The intruder managed to turn his head where Changbin had it pressed against the ground, just enough to face Felix. And then, he did something that made every inch of your skin crawl. 

He smiled—a sinister grin that revealed a mouth full of missing teeth.

"I mean no harm to you and your people," he looked up to Chan, correctly presuming his status as leader of the group. His voice was coarse and laced with something vicious, despite his words.

"I thought I told you to shut the fuck up," Changbin shoved the side of his head back into the ground, but it didn't prevent him from speaking again. 

"I only came to collect what is rightfully mine," he spit the words out into the dirt, no longer looking to Chan but directly at Felix, whose own eyes now displayed something that you had never seen in them before.

Fear.

Minho returned with the rope and a cloth, which Chan used to gag the man before he was able to say anything further. The boys dragged him to the nearest tree where they tied him tightly. His eyes never left Felix, who remained visibly on edge.

The sight of the freckled boy standing before you, absolutely terrified, took away any fear you might've had for yourself and turned it into red hot anger. 

Without hesitation, you marched over and stepped right in front of Felix. Facing him yourself, you did your best to block the man entirely from his view. His stare remained empty, trained somewhere behind you, so you whispered out a soft “Hey,” and gently reached up to cup his face, bringing his attention to you instead—ignoring your surroundings entirely, as if it was just the two of you. 

He didn’t speak, but he didn’t need to. The way he looked at you alone was enough to ignite something deep within you. A fierce, unexplainable desire to protect him from whatever monster lie behind you. No matter the cost.

The second the man was secured to the tree, Chan stood and yanked the clothing back from one of his shoulders, almost as if he were looking for something on the skin underneath. Dissatisfied with what he found, he moved to the opposite shoulder and did the same exact thing. You watched as he pulled down the mans shirt again to reveal a deep, branded mark, permanently etched into the skin.

Chan gritted his teeth at the sight. And then, he got up and walked right over to where you and Felix stood.

Without any resistance from Felix, Chan turned him around and pulled up the back of his shirt to reveal the exact same mark, less faded, in the exact same place.

And then, it was like the final piece of a puzzle fitting into place in your mind. 

Just as Chan had said, it seemed as though Felix really did have a tendency to let his past catch up to him.

And this time, it appeared to have been just a little too close to home.

It was decided that the boys would take turns keeping watch over the man from Felix’s past while they figured out how to deal with him. Chan was strongly against the idea of “getting rid of the fucker right here and now,” as Changbin put it. And although you hadn’t said it outright, you were in agreement with Changbin. Whoever he was, the man had clearly come here with the sole intention of hurting Felix, which was more than enough reason to get rid of him in your eyes. 

Despite not having any idea what was going on, Jisung was sent outside, gun in hand, to keep first watch. His only instructions from Chan being to “just do it” and that he would explain later. Changbin left with Seungmin and Jeongin to scope the perimeter, just in case the man hadn’t come alone, although you were all pretty confident you’d know by now if that had been the case.

Behind closed doors just off the main floor, what had started as a discussion between Chan, Minho, and Felix quickly escalated into an argument. You stood outside with Hyunjin, both of you too intently focused on trying to discern was being said on the other side of the doors to acknowledge each others presence. 

You jumped at what sounded like a fist slamming down on a table, which was quickly followed by Minho raising his voice. “How else do you think he found us? He fucking followed him back this morning!”

Hyunjin's face scrunched in confusion and you thought of filling him in on what had happened earlier, but decided against it. Now wasn't the time to try and make friends.

You'd nearly forgotten that Felix was in the room with them because he had yet to utter a single word. In fact, the last time you’d heard him speak at all was before you'd fallen asleep last night. When his voice was filled with nothing but pleasure, exhaustion, and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Something sweeter than both. 

Now, not even twenty four hours later, his voice came out detached, emotionless. Broken.

“Chan is right. We need to let him go," a brief pause occurred before he spoke again, "we can't kill him because they'll all come looking. We need to let him go, and I might as well go with him now because they won’t stop until—"

“No,” Chans voice was firm, “that isn’t an option.”

“We aren’t letting that happen,” Minho again. 

And no response from Felix. 

After deciding that you'd had enough, you reached for the door handle. Before you could pull it open, Hyunjin put his hand over yours. You looked to him and he shook his head.

You obeyed and stepped back, putting your ear to the wall again.

Chan was first to speak.

“Then we leave for Miroh tomorrow, before any more of them show up. We’ll bring him with us until we can figure out what to do with him. And we keep this between us. The others don’t need to know who he is or how he knows who we are. Keep him gagged.”

Silence. 

Silence, for what felt like an eternity before the door flew open, causing you and Hyunjin to stumble backward. Felix came out first, pushing his way through without stopping to acknowledge either of you. You felt Hyunjin's eyes on you as you watched Felix go.

After a brief conversation with Minho and Chan about what would need to be done to prepare to leave for Miroh tomorrow (with an extra person) you left to get some fresh air. Which, despite the fact that you probably did need it, was just a poor excuse to cover up the real reason you were so desperate to leave the room.

You decided to head to the rooftop, because you figured it was where you'd have the best chance of finding Felix.

Just as you stepped out onto the main floor, Jisung came in through the front doors. “Do you have any idea what the hell is going on?"

“I thought you were keeping watch?” you shot him a puzzled look. Had Changbin and the others returned already?

“Nah, well I was, but Felix just took over so I came in to find some answers—"

“What do you mean?” you interrupted, unable to mask the sudden panic in your voice, “is he out there alone right now?” 

“Well yeah, I mean unless you count the other guy—"

Shit.

You shoved Jisung out of the way, heading for the doors. He called out your name, but there was no time to stop and explain. You bolted around the side of the building as fast as you could and when you turned the corner, your breath hitched in your throat. 

It took a moment for you to realize what was actually going on. Although the sun was beginning to set, it was still light enough outside that you could make out a general outline.

The intruder was on the ground. Free of his restraints.

On top of something, no, someone. With his hands wrapped tightly around their throat.

With his hands wrapped around Felix's throat.

Felix, who was just letting it happen. With his own hands loosely grasped around the mans own, doing nothing to stop him. The gun he was supposed to have been using to keep watch was nowhere in sight. 

You opened your mouth to yell for Chan, or Jisung, or anyone but nothing came out as the scene before you ripped the air from your lungs.

The man was so completely focused on draining the life from Felix that he didn’t even notice as you approached.

You desperately tried to push him off, begging him to stop with whatever words you could manage, but he didn't budge. He paid no mind to you, black eyes locked on Felix beneath him.

Out of instinct, your hand fell down to the knife that you always carried with you. The second time you'd ever gripped the handle with real intent to use it. Removing it from your waistband, you caught sight of Felix as his eyelids began to flutter, rolling back into his head as he lost consciousness. Your heart pounded in your ears at the realization that if you didn’t do something that very second you would never see them open again.

Every choice comes at a cost.

And you were more than willing to pay the price.

You clutched the handle of the knife as hard as you could. And with one last glance to Felix, with one short plea to whatever higher power might be on your side tonight, you plunged the blade into the back of his attacker.

But you didn't stop there. You pushed it deeper into the flesh because you didn’t want to let him live. Because he didn't deserve to live—Chan had been wrong. 

It took every ounce of strength you had to rip the knife back out. When you did, the stranger immediately released his hold on Felix, rolling over and collapsing face up on the ground.

You took a shaky step back, and then another, dropping the knife into the grass.

It was all too much, really.

The sight of the man on the ground, sputtering and convulsing as he struggled to breathe. Blood on his lips. Blood on the knife.

Blood on your hands.

The sounds expressed by Felix, whose eyes lulled open as he reached for his throat, coughing and gasping for air.

The wheezing noises caused by your own hyperventilated breathing that you hadn’t even noticed until now.

You had never killed anyone before. Somewhere deep down, you knew that you had it in you, considering where you came from. And you had accepted that you might need to some day given the recent choices you'd made. But you had never actually done it. 

And maybe you would never have had to, if Felix hadn’t just allowed the man at your feet to bring him to the edge of death. 

Your panic turned to anger once again. But this time, it wasn't directed at the dying man. 

"You didn’t fight back," you whispered, refusing to look at Felix as he lifted his head from his place on the ground.

When he failed to respond, you repeated yourself again. "Why didn’t you fight back?!" raising your voice, it broke as you yelled it at him, nails digging into your palms once again to keep from losing it completely.

Felix stood slowly on shaky legs. Once he was stable on his feet, he took a few hesitant steps toward you. He took your hands in his own, bringing the bottom of his shirt up to wipe off the blood. When you tried to look back at the man that now lay motionless on the ground, he cupped your face and turned your attention back to him. Just as you had done earlier.

You turned your head in the opposite direction, refusing to face him because it stung. The fact that he had almost willingly left you behind in this world to face whatever uncertainties lie ahead without him. Alone.

You lifted a fist and brought it back down onto his chest. It landed gently, with a soft thud, because no matter how upset you were with him, no matter how angry or hurt you might have been, you would never be able to hurt him back.

You repeated the action over and over, again and again, and then you stopped. Splaying your fingers on his chest, spreading them wide until you felt beat of his heart underneath. Thudding against your palm, accompanied by the steady rise and fall of every breath he took.

Felix was safe. He was alive. The marks on his neck would fade. The aching sensation in your heart would heal to leave behind a small scar. But what was one more, anyway?

Felix remained motionless, allowing you all the time you needed with your hand on his chest as your breathing steadied, falling in sync with his own.

Finally you gave in, tilting your head up to look at him, unable to keep tears from falling when you met his eyes despite your best efforts to hold them back. You could have, if he had been anyone else, but he made you more vulnerable than you would ever have been able to admit.

When Felix pulled you into his arms, you let him.

Maybe it was a good thing you felt like throwing up at the mere thought of the body at your feet, because it meant that you hadn't inherited your fathers disregard for human life. Maybe it made you weaker. But nothing made you as weak as the freckled boy standing in front of you now. 

Maybe your father had been right about one thing. 

Over your shoulder, Felix forced his eyes down to the lifeless man on the ground, just one of the many individuals who had made his life a living hell for as long as he could remember. A strange combination of loss and relief washed over him, followed by a brief sense of freedom that he couldn’t let himself indulge in fully, because he knew it wouldn't last. 

When you buried your face in his neck, Felix rested his chin on top of your head. Bringing a hand up, he gently stroked your hair while you calmed down.

He'd never even meant for you to know his name and now, without any hesitation whatsoever, you had stupidly put yourself in danger for him.

Without any consideration for the repercussions it might have, you had just killed someone.

For him.

To protect him. 

And it was because of you that he was able to feel any ounce of freedom at all tonight, no matter how short lived it may be.

Every barrier he had put up, every single wall he'd built around himself, it all came crashing down at the thought. Shattering into nothing as you tore your way through his defenses faster than anyone ever had before.

Felix already had seven soul mates.

He wondered if there would be room for an eighth. 

Part 5.

tysm for reading<33 i'm also going to start a taglist for this fic so if you would like to be added please don't hesitate to let me know :)

taglist: @vixensss

[digenerate-trash]

ANOTHER EZ CULT LEADER KYLAR W!!!!!

okay, im so sorry I didn't post this. but thanks to Kuu yall have it now. get ready folks GN kylar | GN PC

Lambs- that's what you were called. Hand-picked and carefully groomed specifically as a sacrifice for your dear messiah. 

Doctrine was fed to you so carefully so that when you met your God you knew how to greet them. They say that being sacrificed is an honor. Only a few people ever get to see their God up close and as a lamb, you have the best view of them all. 

Though as a lamb you have a charmed yet short life. People watch over you every step of the way. You’re fed only the best fruit, faithful decibels bathe you in flowers and scented oils. You are dressed and cleaned every day and when you have spare time you read your scripture. And sure the idea of death looming over you every day is a bit frightening, but as a lamb it's your job. You keep the church alive. You're a gift to your God. In a few short days, you'll be on an altar. Ready to face your carefully planned out fate. 

Though lately in the dead of night, you hear a whispering. It's been indecipherable muttering so far. But tonight is different. Tonight it's louder and accusatory as it whispers to you 

"I feel doubt" 

The voice says. It scratches at your mind it makes the room darker when you hear it. You squirm a bit and shut your eyes tighter. Ignore it. Ignore the whispers they aren't real.

"Do you doubt your God?" 

The voice murmurs. You swear you can feel its cold breath on your ear. You shake your head and curl up tighter. If you don't look it's not there.

It leans over you. You can feel its presence. A cold tongue glides across your jaw to your ear. 

"You taste like fear little lamb..."

The thing says, its body hovering over you.

Finally, you look up at the figure. In the dark, it's hard to see but it just looks like the silhouette of a man... and a small man at that. Still. An intruder is in your room. You scream so loudly you're sure everyone in the temple has been woken up. Several people storm your room, still in night clothes, they try to comfort you. Youre check over carefully- and when nothing is wrong with your person they start to check over the room, some Decibles comfort you while others look for any signs of an intruder. You feel so terrible but you're reassured and taken care of until you feel safe again…

You are watched for the entire day. Constantly asked if you feel off or scared in any way- you are uneasy, but you shake your head. You insist it was just a nightmare.

But night falls and you're back in your room. You curl up and try to sleep but the voice is back. Mumering at first like always until you feel its weight on you, you look up at the figure again. Even as it says words too quietly for you to understand. 

You try to scream again but something covers your mouth. It's wet and heavy... you don't even want to think of what it could be. Still, the figure looks down at you. No eyes. Just a dark figure with icy breath.

"Do you hate your God?"

The thing asks. it straddles your hips. You feel its cold hands reach under your robes to touch your stomach. Claws at the ends of each finger dig into your plush stomach. You shake your head since you can't speak but the thing leans over you pressing its weight into you. The ominous figure digs its claws deeper into your stomach scratching downwards. 

You haven't felt pain in so long that even the slightest bump hurts. You cry and thrash and the figure vanishes just like before. Once its weight is off of you, You run to your door and cry and bang on it until someone comes to comfort you. 

You show the decibels your stomach and the markings that are still there. concerned glances are exchanged and whispers of "demons" are heard before they decide what to do with you. You're bathed and fed fruit. You're given a day of relaxing while other lambs and other followers make charms for you to have with you at night. You're always with someone now. And they watch you closely. 

At night You're not taken down to your room instead You're brought to the high priest. He promises to keep watch while you sleep in a cot in his chamber. He assures you that with the charms that the church has made for you and with him by your side no one except the messiah could touch you.

You settle in for another night.

But the voices start all too soon. You press a charm to your chest and try to ignore it. But all too soon you feel the weight on top of you. Something cold slithers up your chest and wraps around your throat. It tightness and adjusts as you open your eyes and look up at the thing again. The demon that has haunted you.

The thing around your neck tightness prevents you from screaming and it leans close again. Its skin is like ice as it leans over you. 

"Do you believe in your God?" 

It asks. And you freeze a bit... do you believe? Is that why this demon is haunting you? Do you need to be a better lamb? Are you not good enough because you don't believe enough? The thing moves closer to you this time you can feel its body rubbing against yours. Heavy and cold. It yanks on your robes pulling them off of you the charms clatter to the floor leaving you bare. 

Your whole body is shivering as the thing coiled around your neck reaches up and presses itself past your lips and down your throat. You feel more appendages coil around your body, the cold snake-like tendrils making you nervous as you're pinned down.

Your body tenses up as the thing itself presses its cold body in between your legs. You squirm and whimper as the thing eases itself inside. A lot larger than you thought it be. Its body thrusts into you as you weakly try to fight against it. It leans over you bitting your chest leaving fanged marks around your nipple. 

You swallow and struggle to breathe around the appendage in your throat and you can hear the things breath shudder and moan above you. The coil around your neck tightens then relaxes then tightness again as if it's massaging itself through your throat. Like squeezing a fleshlight. 

You choke and sputter a bit but that just seems to encourage it.

It starts to thrust more and faster it looks down at you panting you can feel its drool on your chest as it digs its nails into your skin you look up at it as it lets out a horrible screech. The blackness surrounding the figure is suddenly covered in glowing eyes. Rows and rows of eyes attached to tendrils that spill from the things back. The tendrils are coiled around your arms stomach legs and neck. They seem to get tighter as you look at them causing you to squirm more. You can feel it cumming inside of you. Rope and ropes of sticky cum coat your insides. It almost feels too full... 

It massages your lower stomach forcing you to relax. It's only a couple of minutes in when you feel a heavy egg make its way into your body. 

When it's done the eyes blink away. Its body is heaving as its coils retreat letting you go. You don't scream this time as the thing vanishes... you struggle to clean yourself up and rub at the bite to make it fade. 

When the high priest gets up he seems to be none the wiser. Still, he helps you bathe and dress. You try to ignore the weight in your stomach. You don't want it to ruin today. Today is special after all. It's the day they feed the messiah. You study the doctrine. You say your goodbyes. You're ready for the moment you finally get to meet your God.

Laid out on the altar. The room is pitch black as you feel the presence of your God looming over you. Finally, the days of torment are over. You no longer have to be haunted by demons and their torture. You can finally fulfill your purpose. You can meet your fate with open arms

But you feel your stomach drop once again as tendrils coil around you restraining your body. A cold clawed hand reaches out and pets your stomach gently before tracing a claw right over where the "egg" lays heavily in your abdomen the haunting voice asks for the last time.

"Do you love your God?" 

[kerubimcrepin]

Liveblog - Dofus, livre 1 : Julith [PART 20]

Joris grabs Kerubim as they're falling, to shield him, and my personal thoughts on this are [CAR CRASH] [GLASS SHATTERING] ‘GOOD LORD!’ [GENERAL COMMOTION] [BABY CRYING] ‘WAAAAH WAAAAH’ [YELLING] [POLICE SIRENS] WEEWOO WEEWOO [HELICOPTERS] ‘WE’RE REPORTING LIVE-‘ [EXPLOSION] ‘MY LEG… MY LEG…’

Even with his probably very limited thinking-capabilities as a kitten, Kerubim's first instinct after falling is to look at whether Joris is alright or not. Personally, I think that——

:(

fanmgs

Kerubim is 2 sauces tall, but ready to avenge his death and also his son's fresh traumatization.

"Please don't call me a flask of poison because I have some green liquid inside and skulls drawn on my bottle <3 just drink up. Okie dokie?"

I don't lnow what this woman is expecting, here, honestly.

BASED Joris.

Bakara really thinks that Joris is stupid enough to go with her, while Joris employs the classical battle tactic of lying, by approaching her until she let go of Lilotte and saying "im going to kill you or hurt you in some way [giggle]" immediately after.

But as Bakara has shown repeatedly, even in this scene alone, she doesn't think highly of Joris. Even if she tried really hard to pretend that she did.

Well, she doesn't think of anyone highly, actually. Including herself.

This screenshot will get a lot of usage during ova2 liveblog, followers. It's literally THE reaction image for ova2.

While watching this movie, I always go between different extremes, when thinking about Joris and Bakara's relationship in the future. Would it become worse? Would they be close? Would they hate each other?

Every time I have a different answer, which is probably an answer in on itself.

My current take is that whether Joris and Bakara consider one another a friend probably varies from year to year. I can see it clearly: her telling him stories of Jahash. Her helping him around the home. Her criticizing him harshly for being a failure of a huppermage (it's as unacceptable for him to be that, as it is for her). Her stopping talking to him after he leaves the academy. Beginning to talk to him again after a few years, when he has a very close call to death while adventuring, — angry at him, because don't you dare die on me while we're in one of our "I don't talk to you" argument phases. Rinse and repeat.

I think it's funny. Atcham's greatest wish, besides hair, has always been "I want someone in my family to care about me," while Bakara...

Whike Bakara, as an heir of a Bontarian hero, would probably fear being in the wrong, — an evildoer, — the very most.

No wonder they're so shocked.

Both of them are experiencing some entirely new emotions, thanks to Joris.

It's not really about Bonta. It's about revenge. And it's about her feeling inadequate. And it's about her feeling like a failure.

As far as she's concerned, even a dofus doesn't want her, with how broken she is. He wants some weird, off-putting, Julith-related 10yo instead.

One has to wonder, if it is a genuine plea, or if she is manipulating Bakara by revealing the truth. Because she doesn't want to be blown to pieces by a dofus.

It's a bit hard to analyse this part of the movie because I'll be real, there's so much occuring all at the same time. Like bro. Imagine being Joris here.

The woman who killed your dads is now like "I am going to bring one of them back", and also another one came back 5 minutes ago, but also things are exploding and fire is everywhere, and also your aunt just tried to kill your uncle?? And also stole your dragon egg magical nuke.

Even if everything Julith said was true, — her cold, cold reaction to a fireball hitting her son, the way she looks at Bakara like at dirt, and the way she says "quit fooling around", point so, so heavily towards her revelation of this information being a tactical way to manipulate Bakara.

[fakeshibe]

the internet is so overtly hostile to kids and young people. commercialisation and profit margins killed off the places younger kids were safe and welcome to be in, creeps and those seeking to goad people towards extremism took over those spaces designated for teens.

There is no safe place. Every time i see a 14 year old on twitter, I see them being told to get off the platform. It’s not safe, it’s not for you. And that’s entirely correct, twitter is not a safe place for a 14 year old, but where is? Tumblr? not really. Club penguin? it’s dead. Community forums? not really a thing anymore. Discord? not without that teen being very aware of their safety and how to look after themselves, at which point they may as well have stuck to twitter.

Like it or not, it’s the job of every single one of us to make a space that is safe for teens. Doesn’t mean you have to be kid friendly, just means you need to take reasonable precautions that your not-kid-friendly content stays in your space, that they can’t accidentally come across it. Content warnings, censoring/spoilering posts, possibly avoiding the main tags for a thing if that topic is child friendly and your art is not. stuff like that. Like if young people are likely to search for stuff like lego, maybe don’t put your nsfw bionicle ship art into the general lego tag, stuff like that.

It’s your job to keep an eye out for your fellow humans. If you see a young person they you know displaying signs that they’re possibly being harassed/groomed/generally made uncomfortable/not doing well, make sure they have a safe person to speak to. You don’t have to be that safe person, you just need to make sure there’s someone who can listen to them.

If you see a kid doing something they really shouldn’t be, it’s on you to explain why they shouldn’t be doing that. Don’t berate them, don’t attack them for it. Explain, help them to understand why that’s concerning to you. We all know internet safety classes in schools are pretty rubbish, usually super outdated. I did a child safety course like two years ago that still included tips on building a safe myspace page. School isn’t going to teach kids about the immediate issues on todays internet, it’s on the community around them to guide them and look out for them.

Also playground humour is fine, just be aware when you’re joining in to not take it too far or make it weird. And bear in mind that even just by virtue of being a couple of years older than whatever young person you’re talking to, there’s a power imbalance in that conversation. Don’t encourage playground humour to the point of making it an entirely inappropriate topic. Your the one guiding this conversation, steer it in the right direction.

And if you see someone being weird towards any minor, wether you know them or not, call that shit out. Let it be known that someone is keeping an eye out, let that kid know that they’re welcome and they’re looked out for. Let that creep know that people see them, and people are very, very aware of what they’re doing. Make them feel unwelcome, run them out of your spaces, spread awareness of risky people. Keep your spaces safe.

This is all especially as important as IRL spaces become more hostile to potentially vulnerable young people. Queer teens especially are going to be looking for community and safety online more and more frequently. Make sure that the places they find will be a respite from the real world, not just a different set of threats to navigate.

Make sure young people feel safe on the internet, and make sure that those looking to take advantage of their presence, don’t.

Why am i writing all this? I’ve seen too many posts about people’s experiences as a young person online, and i talked to my brother the other day about him and his friend’s experiences and it’s terrifying that there’s really nowhere for young people to go. Also i’ve realised that i’m not doing enough to be part of the solution. so this is part of that, im gonna be far, far more aware of the issue and doing more to try and help.

[koicrimes]

i think if you think someone is a bad person simply because they view/portray a character differently than you do, you need to take your ass outside and talk to real people. this is ESPECIALLY true when yall know that you're almost entirely projecting who YOU are as in individual onto these characters. you cannot expect people to portray a character as you with better hair-- none of us know each other. we're all strangers. your story- the one you use to try and force parallels with your fave- is nonexistent as far as the next person is concerned.

im not saying there's anything wrong with projecting on to your faves. TONS of people do it-- which is why, you're not always going to find people who view the character the exact same way you want them to. because their projection looks different from your projection.

if you want a character to be portrayed exactly like you want them to, if you want a character that shares your likeness (whatever that means to you) create your own original character. no one can "take that away from you" because it's your own creation and you dictate what's true or not.

everything else is all entirely up to the individual's interpretation that's consuming the media, same as you.

[jasperandhenryslovechild]

YOYOYOYO DYSTOPIA AU / OC LORE DROP!!!

i decided that im gonna do it out of order because it makes it a lot funner for me to put things together and stuff!! but yeah yeah this is a chunky read, abt ~5600 words give or take? and tumblr kept posting it when i wasn't done fixing the formatting and it was so horrid😭😭 but it's good now!!

im gonna probably reblog this or edit it later with an ao3 link to make it easier to read

but yes yes i hope someone in this world enjoys this au a fraction as much as i do because that would have made all this struggle to getting it out worth it :)

reblog / reply with literally anything you thought about this i am in desperate need for someone to know about this in the way i do sososoososo that being said have fun

SEPTEMBER 7, 2024

DYSTOPIA, [UNIDENTIFIED]

2:26 AM

"Are you mad at me?" Ollie asks as he's following his friend down a dark alley behind Mallory's Community Center. Yara looked a bit off-putting right now— walking with an indignation that sort of scared him. If Ollie wasn't her friend, he'd avoid her.

"No," she responded, voice soft. Kind.

In this entire operation, Yara was the only thing Ollie trusted. She was the only thing Ollie stayed for. He didn't trust anything here. This was a cult, and sure, he was currently best friends with a girl in a cult, but she was kind. She was different than them. Ollie knew that if he could take her out of Dystopia, if he could take her to Swellview and on boat trips and hold her hand in his room while they did each other's hair (platonically, of course— his heart had always been set on that boy who'd stayed in Swellview after he'd left), she'd be a different person.

She'd do better.

"What is this, then?"

She didn't respond. It kind of scared Ollie. She'd broken into the house in the middle of the night, she'd opened his window and told him to pack everything he wanted to keep into a bag and leave with him. It was fucking creepy. Nay, it was terrifying. Ollie hadn't thought the operation would reach the lengths of his own home. But Henry had said he could go, he'd put a tracker on him just in case. Just to make sure he'd never be far.

And like that, he'd followed Yara. And over these weeks of getting to know her, he knew he'd follow her pretty much anywhere. But right now, he doubted if that was even a smart choice to begin with.

They turned a corner, getting further from Mallory's Community Center and closer to places Henry had banned the group as a whole from going to. Everyone except himself, of course, because he was always an exception. Ollie could scoff at it. But he'd said it was one of the more dangerous corners that Dystopia had to offer— big league villains with objectives and goals bigger than them. Things not even Henry considered himself ready for.

"Yara, what is this?" he repeated, hoping to get through to her. To get some kind of information, because this was freaking him the fuck out.

Silence.

"I'm not mad at you."

Yara looked back at Ollie, sort of slowing her pace to a stop. She looked at Ollie— he looked nervous. Scared. Her brows furrowed, and she took his hand, squeezing it. It was dark, the light of a single street lamp that flickered in and out illuminating Ollie's view of her. He could have sworn he'd seen her blush, but the light wasn't steady enough to make it out.

"I'm not mad at you at all."

"Are we in danger?"

"No!"

Yara laughed a bit, like the idea was absurd. It forced Ollie to give a half-hearted chuckle too, just to try to match the energy. His hands were cold as he held hers tighter— warm and soft and safe. Even if he didn't understand a thing right now.

"Why would you think that?" she asked, still laughing a tiny bit.

"I don't know- I don't- I mean-- look at this!"

Ollie let go of one of Yara's hands to gesture around them. To the abandoned buildings, broken windows and a desolate environment. Hollow. His voice sounded a bit annoyed, somewhere between frustrated and concerned.

"You- I was sleeping and you just broke into my place, told me to pack all my stuff into your backpack, and told me to come with you! And the stupider thing is that I did! And now you won't even tell me where we are, or what we're going to do, and you've taken me to this place--"

"Orion," Yara began, as if she was trying to soothe Ollie. Or shut him up. One of the two.

"It's fine. You're not in trouble or anything, but-"

"Are you in trouble? Yara, we can leave."

Ollie scoffed a bit, taking Yara's hand again.

"Do you think we're trapped here or something? We can leave Dystopia if you want. We can go wherever if you're in trouble!-"

"Why would I want to leave Dystopia?" she asked incredulously, and Ollie stopped. Gh. Why wouldn't you want to leave Dystopia?

"I'm not in trouble, and neither are you. We're fine. In fact, we're more than fine."

"If we're more than fine, why did you pull me out of my room at three in the morning?"

"Will you just walk with me?"

Ollie paused for a second, thinking it over. He could just leave right now. He could just walk away and go back home. He didn't _have_ to walk with her. But she had his most prized possessions on her back, and she looked so... off. Ollie almost didn't want to leave her alone. The curiosity to know what was going on was stronger than his drive to be left alone and go to sleep.

He let her hands go and began walking.

The silence was almost threatening, and Ollie got an incredibly bad feeling about this. He felt like right now was the right moment, maybe last moment, to turn back and go home. Like a notion that he was about to walk right into something horrible. Just then, before Ollie could really think any deeper about it, Yara spoke.

"Mallory and I have been thinking about you," she began. Ollie felt a bit grossed out— he'd never felt good about Mallory. Besides the fact he was a literal cult leader, he just had a bad air to him. Ollie tensed for a second. Had they found out about the mission?

"and we think you've been... great, really."

Ollie let out a sigh of relief.

"I mean, helping Alex out with orders and stuff. Helping Mel with the kids. Advocating for the truth at the meets Mallory does. You're really an exemplary child of Osiris. You have balls— new club members aren't really all for that, and you are."

"Thanks," Ollie responded, giving a bit of a smile. It wavered as a gust of wind brushed his skin— he wasn't really wearing anything adequate for the weather. An old shirt and gym shorts from his freshman year in highschool that he surprisingly never grew out. Maybe if he'd been given some sort of warning in advance, he'd be dressed for the occasion.

A murder of crows flew by them as Yara started speaking again— Ollie counted seven.

"We wanted to... give you a formal welcome into the Harbingers," she started up again, making Ollie raise a brow. They turned another corner, into some kind of warehouse. It didn't have doors, and felt more like a parking lot than a warehouse now that Ollie paid a bit more attention to it. His mind was racing; what does that mean, what the fuck does that mean?

"You've done well with your initiation. Passed with flying colors, even. This is just a sort of final thing, yknow? Just to make sure you're with us."

"Do you doubt it?" Ollie asked back quickly. Seriously, what is this place?

"No, not at all! I'd never doubt your loyalty. None of us would. If we did, why would I bring you here?"

She smiled as she led Ollie across the abandoned parking lot, into a sort of sector that looked like it could be a store. A mall, it hits Ollie. This used to be a mall. Eugh, he does not like the sound of that. Malls are big, with a lot of rooms to hide things in. They're echoey, sure, but who goes to an abandoned mall? Who'd look for anything in an abandoned mall in a place as big and as technologically ahead as Dystopia?

If he went missing right now, who'd look for him here?

Was Henry even checking the tracker?

Ollie kept his quiet as he was led into a smaller area— it looked like it could be the lounge area before a bathroom. Or a changing room, or a lounge room. It was way too dark to tell. The room was barely lit, the only thing being a muffled light in the corner that wasn't strong enough to really help anything, and he could barely see Yara. She had taken his hand to guide him, and right now, Ollie was holding it tight enough to break it.

"You don't have to be afraid," someone spoke in front of him. Too close to him. Ollie yelped, taking a frightened step back and dragging Yara with him.

The sound of a match lighting could be heard, the fire sparking and illuminating the room a tiny bit. Whoever held the match was the person that had spoken, holding the fire to the candle he held in another hand.

Mallory.

Ollie could vomit.

He and Yara were laughing a tiny bit at Ollie's reaction, shaking his head.

"We're so sorry for scaring you, Orion," he began, passing the candle to someone Ollie could recognize as Alex. He took the candle around the room, lighting each one that was on the wall— held by a candle holder. Ollie furrowed his brows a bit as he watched it.

"We did not mean for it to be so dark in here, but the draft from outside kept coming in and putting the candles out— we kept the door open for Yara and you, but now that you're both here, we can keep the light on."

"... why not use lightbulbs?" Ollie deadpanned, as if the question was obvious. Mallory blinked, and spoke with a tone of genuine confusion.

"Excuse you?"

"Lightbulbs," he repeated. "Aren't lightbulbs a lot easier to use? Especially cause it's windy?"

"Candles are more natural. They come from the ground's natural materials, hydrocarbons that give more of an earthy feel--"

"They look a lot cooler than a lightbulb," Yara cut Mallory off, looking at Ollie. Mallory nodded.

"... yeah, they look a lot cooler than a lightbulb."

Ollie just sort of stared between them. That was so stupid.

"So, what is this?" he asked, looking around the room. Definitely an old lounge room. There were a good two or three other members of the Harbingers standing behind Mallory, in the back corners of the room. There was some sort of barrel next to one of them, with something inside of it, and in the middle of the room was a chair. With... straps? Rope?

Ollie shuddered.

"Well, Yara has told you about this being the final step to your initiation, no?" Mallory asked, and Ollie nodded. He swallowed, and it felt like swallowing a rock.

"She wasn't wrong— do you, by any chance, know what the final step might be?"

He hated how Mallory spoke to him like he was in kindergarten. He hated the way he looked, that stupid cloak. He wanted to beat up everyone in this room and go back home. He didn't know what stopped him. Maybe it was Henry's voice in the back of his head telling him he'd jeopardize the mission. Maybe it was Charlotte's, telling him it'd be better to just see it out for everything it was. He couldn't really hear his own voice between the fear and everyone in his head telling him what to do.

Maybe that was the most important part.

"I- don't?" Ollie responds meekly. "But it looks kind of scary, if it has to be done here-"

"It's not scary," Mallory reassured, putting a hand on Ollie's back. Ollie pulled away from it, but Mallory was persistent on keeping him close. Walking him over to the chair. "It's a way to connect you to Osiris, to unite Its followers under one common-"

"What is it?" Ollie insisted through gritted teeth, backing away from Mallory and from all of this. Closer to Yara, and closer to the exit.

Yara put a hand on Ollie's shoulder, making him look back at her.

"Calm down, Orion," she said, and it somehow found a way to make Ollie's shoulders drop a bit— less tense. She had a way of doing that. It made Ollie feel safe. She took her jacket off as she began speaking, tying it around her waist.

"Remember that time when we were on that truck?" she asked. "And you started pointing out all our scars and stuff?"

Of course he did, how could he forget?

A full night. They'd spent a full night in the back of Yara's old truck, 12 miles out from Dystopia in a field to get away from the heavy pollution of the city. They'd set out to see the stars and do the drugs that were left over from the transportation that night. It was early into the mission, a few days after he'd first signed up for it. It was stuff Mallory didn't need, so Yara thought they'd be able to just have fun with it while they stargaze, away from Dystopia and away from the world at large

Ollie remembers it as the first time he's ever used. It was great, but it was also kind of confusing— he didn't even know what it was, but he knew that it felt great. He found out he gets really fucking giggly and clingy when he's high, and he'd laid down in the back of the truck with Yara and started counting her freckles. Counting the scars on her arms and asking for their stories, landing on a weird looking one on her upper right arm.

It was what she showed Ollie once she took off her jacket, and it only settled in now what it actually was.

The Harbingers logo.

"No," Ollie said almost immediately, beating Yara to the punch as she had almost started to explain for herself why she'd brought up the memory. The idea of what they wanted to do to him was starting to settle in. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest— this is absolutely fucking insane. No. They're not- he's not going to let this happen.

"You're not doing that to me."

"Come here, Orion," Mallory cooed, grabbing onto Ollie's hand, to which he quickly jerked away.

"No! I'm not letting you brand me!"

"It's not just a branding," Yara said, moving towards the door as she looked into Ollie's eyes. Blocking his only way out.

"It's a way to connect to the God above. To show your unity and faith."

"I- I am faithful!" Ollie began, stumbling over his words as Mallory stepped towards him. He sounded a bit desperate, as if pleading with the people around him. The silence was deafening, and he felt like a cornered dog.

"I'm faithful! You said you didn't doubt that!"

"Then why won't you let us do this?" Mallory asked, getting more insistent. A bit closer to Ollie, too, like an animal trainer. Or a capturer.

"Because I don't want to be branded, dude- who-- who wants to be branded?!"

"Orion, just-" Yara began, but she was cut off.

"I'm not letting you guys do this. I'll do- I'll go to the masses, I'll wear the cloaks, I'll do whatever you want, but not--"

"You're condemning yourself."

"No, I'm not!"

Ollie began to try to start for the door, push Yara out of the way and run, but he felt someone grab him from behind. Yanking on the back of his shirt, pulling him in and grabbing his torso, raising him up and off the floor. Ollie turned his head, turned to see who's face he'd be pounding in.

Alex.

"Fuck, dude, don't- no! I don't want this, let me go!"

Ollie felt so fucking stupid for not being able to get out of his grasp. He thrashed, kicking his legs and clawing at Alex's arms, biting his hands trying to make him let go, but he didn't budge. Had he paid more attention to Henry when he teaches stuff, or been a better fighter, or gone on more missions, or anything, he might've been able to get out of this. He knew Sovi would. He knew Henry would. Fuck, even Piper would probably do better than this pathetic squirming thing Ollie was doing. He was too focused on surviving to think about practical ways to do it, and as he began yelling at his once-friend for restraining him like this, Mallory began speaking.

"Calm down," he began, and Ollie wanted to spit on him.

"You really shouldn't be put off by your initiation! This is all just a part of the process, and I promise you that everyone you love here has done it. Myself included!"

"I don't love you," Ollie spat as he was pushed down into the chair, the other Harbingers in the room coming from behind to tie him down. Yara gave a surprised look at the comment. Ollie didn't notice it, too focused on trying to get these people off of him.

"That is truly a shame," Mallory said, coming closer to Ollie and kneeling himself down in front of him.

"because I love you. And I love Yara, and I love Alex, and I love all our members. You're all equal and so, so important to me. This is why I'm doing this, do you not understand?"

Mallory put his hands on Ollie's balled fist, almost holding it. The worst part was that the hold felt loving. Like he was truly trying to comfort him, even through the disgust and rage Ollie was feeling. It was a gentle hold that felt fueled with nothing but care, even if this man meant nothing close to it. This man was nothing close to it.

He wanted to cry.

"I'm doing this because I love you. Because I truly want you to survive through The Final Abolishment. You will be recognized as a child of Osiris, and it will be... wonderful. It will feel like waking up for the first time."

He breathed it out like he truly believed it. Ollie hated himself for ever following Yara right about now. Mallory rubbed a thumb against his hand as tears pricked Ollie's eyes, and Ollie took a deep breath to compose himself. His jaw was clenched, hackles raised— he was furious and emotional and yet, Mallory soothed him like he was soothing a child. Ollie felt like anything but right now— he felt too grown for his own good, and he wanted to go home. And as stupid as it might sound, he wanted to sink into Sovilo's arms and cry, because this whole mission was just more than he ever knew he could take on.

Maybe that's why Mallory was treating him that way.

"Don't cry. People feel like this when they first sit here, too, did you know? I felt like you, too, when it was my first time branding myself. Because I was unsure. Because I wasn't fully devoted. I promise you that this is it, Orion, this is the turning point. You will never feel more connected to Osiris than now, okay? Do you trust me?"

'Not even with the time,' Ollie wanted to snap, but felt the last rope tighten around his leg and knew he was at this dude's full disposal. He didn't have any powers like Sovi or Henry— he couldn't use brute force to get out of the chair, he couldn't 'forcefield' these dudes away from him. He wasn't indestructible. It was just him and his words and his wits and that was it— and he wasn't even that smart! He just thought this would be a drug op! This wasn't the mission he signed up for!

Henry had promised him it wouldn't ever get physical against Ollie, not until he was ending the mission entirely. This didn't feel like the end at all, and it felt so far from the beginning. He couldn't out himself now, because that meant so much worse for everyone else he loved. If they branded the people they loved in this cult, what would they do to the people that betrayed them?

"... I trust you," Ollie breathed out, heart pounding in his ears. He could faint. Mallory, however, was satisfied with the answer and stood up.

"Then let us do this."

The moments between Mallory getting up and the branding iron being pushed against his upper arm were a blur. He could hear Yara sort of come closer to him, feel her grab onto his hand tight as if to help ground him. He didn't know what he was supposed to do about this— he was literally about to be fucking branded. And he didn't want anything to do with it.

He could hear the barrel open, could hear hot coals shift around in it as Mallory used a glove to grab the branding iron. The stick wasn't as hot as the logo itself that was attached onto the end of it; the glove looked more like a precautionary measure more that anything. And as Mallory approached with it, Ollie could see it. Red hot. Smoking.

Ollie could hear himself plead with Mallory for a second. "Please, don't do this, you don't have to do this, I'm a true follower, I swear!" he could hear himself beg from a second entity, from a glass wall outside of himself and far, far from here.

None of it worked—how could it have?—because the iron was pressed against his arm anyway.

To say it hurt was an understatement. It was only a good four seconds the iron had made contact with Ollie's skin, but it felt like a lifetime. He yelped at the first contact— the first contact was the worst part, making a pop sound as he yelled and brought tears to his eyes— and when he gripped Yara's hand with a death grip, flinching around a bit at it, the pain went away. Frying the nerve endings in that part of his arm, he knew and heard. Like the sound of something sizzling on a pan. That's what happens when you get burned like that.

The smell was the worst part. Ollie would never forget the smell of his burning flesh. It was one of those things that would be forever seared into his mind, irreparable.

It was so bad it was almost a taste. He could never find anything to compare it with. Like a smell of blood, or rotting meat, or burnt hair, or burning plastic— all mixed together, all trying to form some horrid fucking scent he'd never forget again in his life. Ollie was sure that the fear and heightened fight-or-flight was what made it hurt so much more than it actually did, because after those few seconds, it was over. Ollie was left with erratic breathing and tears streaming down his cheeks, making this whimpering sort of cry as he did. His lip quivered, and Yara was there soothing him, holding his hand and whispering to him.

Ollie didn't look down at it. He shut his eyes tight, he didn't want to process or accept at all what had just been done to him. He could feel Mallory apply something to the new wound as it secreted a gross plasma, putting on some kind of salve or something, and wrap it in cling wrap. And that was it.

It didn't feel like enough. Everything that had been done for the experience Ollie had just gone through felt so... little. Everything was still living, and breathing, and moving, and Ollie hadn't even processed any of it yet.

Why did everything get to keep going right now?

"You did so good," Mallory praised as he watched Ollie cry— out of pain, but also mostly frustration. He hated how he let this happen to himself. This was horrible, this was inhumane. He just wanted to go see Jasper right now, or Henry. He'd say Sovi, but he knew it wasn't an option. He wanted to melt into their arms, spill everything and make them accept the fact he couldn't do this anymore. That he just needed to go home.

How disappointed would the people he loved be if they saw Ollie like this?

Saw Ollie letting it happen?

"Yara, untie him," Mallory muttered as he kneeled in front of Ollie the same way he had earlier. Stop it, he wanted to seeth. Yell, scream. Stop doing that, stop trying to help me. Look at me, look at me truly, what have you done to me? What have you done?

"I am so proud of you, Orion," Mallory soothed, cupping Ollie's face in his hands and wiping a tear away with his thumb. Ollie wanted to spit in his face.

"You don't see it now, but you are a true child of Osiris."

Like fuck I am.

"You don't see it, but so many would kill to be in the position you are in right now. To be so connected and interlinked with those above. You have been reborn into a new person, a Next Life awaits you. And I promise you, it's worth it. You're a true believer— it will all be worth it for you.

Ollie nodded, sniffling a bit and trying to overcome to overwhelming urge to bitchslap this man now that his hands were free. He did take the opportunity to move Mallory's hands down from his face—fuck, it hurt to move that arm—and hold them, squeezing them tight and feigning affection.

"Thank you," he whispered through the tears, and Mallory smiled. A look Ollie wished he could get rid of so bad— a look that told Ollie he had no remorse. That this wasn't even remotely bad to him. This was just a step to Ollie's better connection with his newfound God and if it were by Ollie, he'd send himself to eternal damnation by now.

Even when everything was so spinning and confusing, he knew one thing for certain; this was fucking revolting.

It was all he could think about as Yara untied him and got him out of the lounge room. It felt like leaving as a different person. Even if everything Mallory had said was wrong, he was right about one thing; he had been reborn in that room tonight. A new person, but not in the way he would have ever wanted.

The walk with Yara was horrid. She'd lent him her jacket—a sage green zip-up with a rhinestone cross outlined on the chest—and under any other circumstances, Ollie might have appreciated it. Now, it just made him feel alone.

As they walked, Yara didn't really dare to say anything. She'd just seen her new friend in one of his most vulnerable moments since she's known him— fuck, one of the most vulnerable moments of his entire life. How was she even supposed to soothe him? Even if it was for the greater good, even if it was for the better, what was she meant to say to him? What was supposed to be said to aid him through it all?

"You turned the wrong corner," Ollie mumbled after a long bout of silence, making Yara turn to look at him. He hoped he didn't have to repeat it.

"Huh?"

"The corner," he repeated, not looking up at her. The taste of his flesh still sat foul in his mouth. Even if he certainly hadn't eaten any of that bullshit, it had been so strong that the oxygen intake only reminded him worse of how the smell lingered on his tongue. Reminiscent of what bit he'd let himself lose for this mission.

He stopped for a second, as if waiting for Yara to turn back with him. Yara stopped with him.

"You're supposed to turn right."

...?

What?

Oh!

Yara smiled a bit as she came to the realization of what Ollie was trying to say, giving a huff of laughter. Ollie gave a confused expression.

"We're not going to your place," she said, still with that look on her face. "We're going to mine."

"But- my place-- I mean, Henry-"

"I can explain to him where you've been."

*Huh?*

Ollie's brows furrowed a bit more now, genuinely conflicted. Almost angry. He wanted to be home— he needed to be home right now. That was the only safe place right now. His things, his family, his kid—

"You're just gonna... explain?"

"Yeah."

"You're going to explain to them how you let Mallory brand me while you watched," he deadpanned. "You think they're gonna be fucking fine with that?"

"Calm down.-"

"You don't get to tell me to calm down right now- you just let them fucking brand me!" Ollie exclaimed, tears stinging his eyes as he gestured somewhere further behind them, referencing the mall.

"And you stood there and watched, and it happened because I trusted you! I came with you because you said I'd be safe! You said I'd be safe with you, and now I'm really starting to doubt th—"

"Orion!"

Ollie paused at being cut off like that, fists curling. Yara stared at Ollie for a second, looking completely mad yet also... concerned for him. Like Ollie was saying something so wrong it was crazy, and that's exactly what she thought. It made him feel stupid, almost.

"Do you think they're going to be the ones to keep you safe after this?" She snapped, gesturing to the right— to Ollie's home.

"Do you think they're going to accept you now? Accept us?"

"Why wouldn't they?"

"Because the outsiders don't understand like we do! They don't fucking get it! They don't get you, and they don't get me, or Mallory, or anyone. Because people think we're crazy and honestly, I don't want to go back to that. I don't think I can go back to that!"

"You don't know them like I do," Ollie spat. "You don't know my family like I do."

"I used to think that too. I used to think that all I ever wanted was to keep my family safe in this godforsaken city. And I found Mallory, and I knew this was it. This was my key to helping them with anything they might need, because I knew them, right? I knew them better than anyone else! And then they fucking kicked me out for this. Called me crazy. Said there wasn't such thing as a Final Abolishment, that I was just gonna drag them under."

Yara took a breath. If Ollie had known better, he'd tell her that her parents were right.

"You don't- people don't like us out there, okay? People aren't like us. If they see that on your arm, if they see who you really are, they're going to ostracize you. And living on the streets in this city is bad, Orion. I'm saving you. I'm keeping you safe. That's why I asked you to pack your shit— trust me, they don't want you back."

Ollie paused. He contemplated the whole monologue— it's what Henry would do. It's what Henry would have wanted of him. To keep the mission alive, he could practically hear in the back of his head. Whatever it takes to keep this mission alive.

He nodded.

"What about Charlie?" he asked, and Yara gave a confused look.

"Who?"

"Charlie. My kid."

A silence.

"You have a-"

"I adopted her?"

More silence.

"Yara, my- she went to the Community Center? It's why I started going? Because she did??"

"Ooohh! Oh, I'll take care of it, don't worry."

Ollie's brows furrowed a bit, and he took a step forward.

"You're not going to just 'take care of it,'" he began, making Yara sort of look at him.

"You're going to bring her to me. If I'm really going to stay with you and not look back, if I'm really going to trust you in my Next Life, you're going to bring me my fucking kid."

"Okay. Okay, I'll bring you Charlie. But you have to come with me. Deal?"

He contemplated it. Something in the back of his head told him this wasn't the right choice. This was the worst possible option, this was walking into a series of traps upon traps— he had to call Sovi. Right now, the move was to call Sovilo and go home. There was a way out of this, and the way out was right now.

Still, Ollie shook Yara's hand.

"Deal."

It might have been the worst decision he's made in his entire life.

[isa-ah]

plural question for a friend: are alters and fronting and being plural something you need to have DID to utilize, or other osdd? they say it does feel like multiple people sometimes in there but not like hes ever a fully different person if that makes sense (doesnt use alters/other names to front as far as im aware). but finds it helpful to use a system to control and understand himself/cope. he is on the autism spectrum tho!

sorry for the weird question!

it's not a weird question! different ego shifts can look different for everyone. for my husband, he blacks out when alters front, but for me it's more of a grey out. I usually feel like we're cofronting and only rarely do I get pushed entirely out of the front. some of my alters are a lot more me flavored and others are Very Separate. and that's just within my own system

as far as I'm concerned, if the terminology helps then it's a good thing, right? if it feels like a system then in some regard, it probably is. or it's at least close enough for the language to help 🤷‍♂️

[jaxieus]

ive written this three times but tumblr keeps messing up and undoing all the writing i did :'(

but i wont let it discourage me! ive got a lot to say about the art i made even though its messy sketches on mspain(t) XD

i had been feeling burnt out and decided to draw comfort characters ( some that ive not drawn in a long time or have acknowledged but never drew before) and the carebears is a franchise thats been with me for so long i made a whole painting for class about it!

i made a list and with utter shock i realized that i basically bacame my owm worts enemy! the list grew so much (and is still growing :')) and i only drew a few characters so far

i know ill render these soon but the others will take a while

(but im really concerned about how im gonna tag this without being obnoxious 🥲)

i have like alot to say about these characters i drew because they mean so much to me and i never really could delve into them at school.

theres more i want to say and its under the cut! :D

so this is gonna get a lil personal but hopefully not too much to the point its boring ,:)

the first character i want to talk about is Ursula. i remember when i was younger being increadibly infatuated with her. i would draw her whenever i could. on chalkboards, the wall, i made paper cut-out of her and digitally drew her on ms paint! she was the first character that a had a desire to be close to in a way. a character albeit evil felt comforting and till this day make me tear up from how beautiful her design is! Ursula was the first female character i felt a strong aesthetic attraction to. (im just kinda a sucker for powerful women)

so i made sure to stay true to her design by keeping her body type and tentacles. basically just switching her hands and head to the carebears design (im still deciding whether or not to keep her hair)

second has to be Rosalina. she really made me accept and realize that i did have an attraction to the same sex ':) i loved playing as her in smash bros, listening/watching her story in galaxy. i never really 'got' the whole thing but reflecting and growing as a person did make me realize that not just fictional men look great but women too!

her design is based on the carebear cousins because the main thing was the mane! you dont really see a bear with a long loc covering its eye so having her different from the others i think gives good variety

third King Candy. oka y i recently feel back inlove with him! mostly because of @/ blackthewolf17's drawings of him!! and that made me rewatch the movie and wow! i remember liking his character a while back but i never really appreciated his as a villain! watching the movie and seeing the art made me remember the discussions i had with my fam about liking him and them not really understanding. (its kinda a running theme with a lot of the characters i like)

i wanted the characters the pop out and look recognizable. i kept the crown and collar. his belly badge is a paper covering his original badge! this one shows the crown and a few bits of candy. (leaning into the fact that he doesnt belong)

next is NME SalesGuy for Four. (such a clever name) this dude is literally a character that i was shocked by his stature! i mean what did i expect? falling for a dude that exudes tall energy but is literally a short king! this dude was there during some cool family times while watching right back at ya!

while looking for references, i found i cb comic and i loved how their legs looked. it wasnt bent like the originals on the cards and i thought they looked really goofy! so i went with that with the design becasue he just doesnt really fit with everyone elses stlye

fifth Rick Sanchez. man, this old man. has been with me through a lot. i saw a poster if the show before it premiered and two years after, i watched it and ive obsessed over him so much i made people watch Rick and Morty so i could talk with them about it. R&M really got me back onto tumblr because it was my entire personality since the show was at its peak and after. (old men tsk tsk) i made OCs Self inserts and played the mobile game. i literally memorized episodes to recite as i went to sleep. and analyzed frames of my fave episode to get better at animation!

i gave Rick clothes because i wanted him to have some flair. iconic elements of him is his tousled hair, coat and alcohol. (hes drinking 'happy juice')

Sixth is Coach Brunt. a girlboss of a villain! she took care of and orphan and made her feel like she was her own! shes determined, strong, fierce, fit, has a great voice, money, and kind. what more could a girl ask for?? this was another character that i had seen while watching CS with the fam. (still havent completed it tho)

i did break the rule and give her a tuft of hair also ':/ but i like her BB i gave her.

its a paw punching a heart (maybe too violent)

Seventh is Johan liebert. i really loved this dude. the series just made me think more about human nature and nurture. i met some cool people becasue of this dude. Johan in a way made me cope with the problems that happened in my life. he really was the character that i also found out i was ace+aro. i just loved drawing him. filling pages of my sketchbook and centering english papers based around him and the lessons i learned from seeing the bad in his character and how people might turnout to be similar and how it can be a problem. (idk if it made sense, but i learned to appreciate humanity more and not be so headstrong and become blinded by my views. but also learning that its good for people to know whats coming for the people that wronged you)

Johans BB is painted on white, so you wouldnt be able to see what he is all about :)

theres is so much already but eighth is Senpai. this Fker is my worst enemy, just like all the characters i drew soo much of this guy that i thought i was gonna go crazy, there was a pang in my chest when the drawings looked like trash. he was the character that made me want to get better at art and engage more with people. i made a fnf OC to be this dudes father. (it was some of the most wholesome thing i ever drew)

Senpai has a more basic design. he also has his identifying elements like the backpack and mic

ninth is Saul. my bbg. it started with the character but sadlt turned into a full obsession over Bob Odenkirk and finding all of his shows and movies that he directed of acted in. thankfully im not deep into it anymore. but when i regularly used instagram, you could see the decent into madness for him. i made animations and really detailed fanart. if Sen got me to draw my fave better, Bob made me attempt to perfect it.

his design sadly is my weakest. i wanted to add some fake hair on him. but im sure you can see that i got lazy. a few weeks ago i made versions of the BRBA&BCS cast as Geronimo Stilton characters and (sad excusee) but i didnt want to put more into the design because i became drained from looking at the growing list D;<

his BB is based on themis :)

tenth is Big Jack Horner. i love this man. i ironically said "he was the hottest character in the movie" on my third watch and man i actually believed it on the way out of the theatre. i wanted to see if anyone liked him like i did and to my surprise people did! this dude has such a great bod, voice, attitude and like many of the characters i like i ask, "is there any proof of death? i dont think so".

i havent drawn him in months and i dont like that i havents so he was the first bear i drew. his BB is a pie but i think ill add his insignia or have him draw on it like Oopsie bear to fit his situation.

like maybe something silly like a frowning face on his BB

im going to put eleven and twelve together because both play a similar role. my two men of science. ive only recently started to like Medic and Scudworth. these two bring such a great jot to me just like all to kooky men i like as well.

sadly, they both look the same, the only thing differentiating them is the glasses. i love their voices and design.

i ahve yet to give Scudsy his own BB tho.

last thing i want to say is why i chose carebears as the main style.

the franchise has been with me since i can even remember or at least before i could comprehend what it was. i remember seeining either oopsie or good luck bear plush at a carnival and i really wanted it but it was closing and i mean it was probably bigger than me so i couldnt get it and it became an obsession of mine! i loved green and a already had a few at home whats one more? so i tried to drop hints at my mom. well as good as a 5-7 yr old could do with drawings.

theres a lot more to say but i might go one for so long it wont fit here!

this was very long and if you read it thank you very much! im glad i got to comfortably speak my mind (well write it) in my own way that did have structure but felt more personal and less embarrassing that my english teacher asking me to write something about myself and my life. or my Art teacher saying i have the freedom to create something but then talk about it with in a time span because im not the only one that has something good to say about their art.

im not sure if all of it was understandable and might've been really unnecessary but im glad either way.

[omi-papus]

Fuck I wish I had it in me to write properly because Im constantly exhausted. But like ok imagine.

AU, where Robin and Al-An actually want to get hit up with Alterra, a little too much.

Renata Goodall is an official Alterra employee, who is totally very qualified to be here and got in through recommendation alone based on her impeccable portfolio and titles that are very real and totally all belong to this inexplicably distracted and danger-prone lady, don't question why her resume claims thirty years of experience, when she looks about twenty-five, that's just a good skincare routine.

Only two days after she's come in, one of the employees of a high-ranking position has had an inexplicable change in behavior. The upper manager of the division, who has a reputation for being lazy, impulsive, extremely unprofessional, known for getting extremely friendly with all employees, especially the female staff, among many other faults, whether he has stolen directly from employee wages is "a theory" if you ask the higher-ups, kept in that position exclusively due to being a long-distance relative of one of the corporate heads. After privately conducting a... personal inspection of foreign cargo that was theorized to be of alien origin, outside of work hours, he's... different.

The hostile human subject was inadvertently killed when attempting to dislodge components from the emergency storage medium, that had incited an electric discharge that resulted in fatal brain damage. This also caused the storage medium's energy to deplete rapidly, initiating emergency procedure of implanting the housed consciousness into the safest nearby receptacle. The functionally uninhabited human body left behind is considered the best option.

It has been noted that the general manager has developed an almost extreme difficulty to walk, concerning low appetite, and an almost manic desperation to avoid the bathroom at all costs, only ever doing it when the threat of contamination of the space becomes imminent. He has also been far less talkative; his previous friendliness had completely vanished, replaced with remarkable rudeness and even worse cluelessness. One thing is decidedly stranger. He reorganized the entire seven-year company plan to be optimized in under an hour, had all salaries updated based on market value as well as counted tax and medical costs, improved a multitude of policies in days, and somehow made the budget dedicated to technical repair of vents, computers, water, and light drop to zero since he has easily fixed every single one of those problems himself.

Alan Whelihan

Is never seen out of the office building.

Does not engage in conversation that is not related to work.

Does not answer personal questions, ever.

Renata feels some type of off around him. Something about the way his veins show from under the pale skin of his wrists, in the milliseconds they show from under his long sleeves looks eerie. It reminds her of something said in a research log she has saved on a pen drive that her sister, who died in an expedition to study the remains of a civilization that was thought extinct, sent her right before she was never heard from again. Declared dead only hours later. She is going to get information about what happened to her at all costs, even if she has to infiltrate this disgusting company, and if she has to beat it out of the superiors themselves, as strange as he was, he was probably her fastest way to the truth. She was sure she only kept a copy of all the information on physical hardware and wiped it all from her PDA. She was absolutely sure she got it all.

Her real name is Robin Ayou. The alien knows this; he had easily hacked the personal devices of everyone in the building; he has learned a lot from it. Her story crumbled under his scrutiny in mere seconds, and he had little difficulty having her pinned in every available facet of her known identity. Now, he has let this slide, for one reason: he needs her close. He needs to extract everything he can from her. Because he's seen something peculiar and terfifying.

On her device theres inexplicably, blurry, low quality, partially corrupted, but unmistakable images of a Sea emperor leviathan.

And while it would be most convenient to just corner the other and get what they want by reason or by force, neither is in a position where they can act out. Both of them are trying to hide their secrets, and they have enough suspicion on them already. So they will have to be more careful about this.

[tealmoth]

also "darkfic au that got out of control" is such a funny description to me 😭 im curious as to why you think so personally i thought it was pretty balanced in heavy and lighthearted moments and considering the themes like the effects of imperialism i dont see why it wouldnt be handled as such. havent watched in a while tho idk

oooohh okay so this’ll be a fun thing to answer because i’ve been desperate to ramble about ‘03 plot points to anyone who will listen all week. so for me, honestly, the darkfic vibes come more from how deeply it dredges into the dark aspects, if that makes any sense?? most of what’s “dark” in ‘03 already exists and is explored in brotherhood, like the imperialism aspects as you mentioned, as well as grief and trauma and everything else that comes prepackaged with fma’s core story. but brotherhood handled these in a very shonen way (which is to be expected, of course). the darkness pushes the characters forward, makes them fight on. even when they’re at the brink, they’re called back by a loved one, or by their own convictions, and it retains an overall positive feel.

meanwhile in ‘03, i get the specific vibe that the writers looked at the story they already had, and asked themselves “how can this be worse??”

(inserting a read more because i’m about to go on a MASSIVE tangent, sorry.)

and so, here are some of the specific darker aspects that stood out the most to me:

the build-up to nina is given far more screentime and its place in the timeline is totally different. not only are the elrics so much younger here, but they’re also essentially a part of the tucker family for the better part of several months iirc. they also witness the direct aftermath of her death at the hands of scar (which is also implied to be FAR more gruesome here), whereas in brotherhood they find out from riza the morning after it happens.

there’s the whole barry ordeal which afaik doesn’t serve much purpose other than it, well, being kinda neat to see pre-armor barry. and i could totally be misremembering here and/or missing something important but the whole episode just stands out to me as “hey, i don’t think that ed’s had enough trauma yet. let’s sprinkle in some attempted murder.”

everything with the laboratory, holy shit. tucker’s reappearance, the attempts at recreating nina, the prisoners, everything with kimblee, the way ed almost activates the array, ALL OF IT is insane in this version.

al’s doubts about his memories and his origins is a longer arc and leads to more conflict with ed in this version.

mustang and winry’s parents. mustang’s suicide attempt. everything with mustang that’s not comic relief (which there’s still plenty of).

as stated in the tags of my first ‘03 post, the utilization of rose’s character is a really intense departure (while interesting!!) that completely took me aback.

the entirely different lore surrounding the homunculi is both incredibly fascinating and a lot to take in, and it leads to them being far more mentally vulnerable and tormented characters than they are in brotherhood. the contrast alone between the development greed gets in brotherhood (using him as an example since he effectively has the most character growth out of the homunculi there) and the development that lust, wrath, and sloth get in ‘03 stands out the most to me.

sloth in general. it’s a wildly fascinating take and, in addition to REALLY hammering in the themes surrounding their mother’s transmutation, also stands to provide even more trauma for the elrics.

and on that subject, the adults are far less present for the boys in this version. that’s not to say that they’re like “parents” or anything in brotherhood, but they’re a lot more openly concerned for them in a personal, affectionate way in that show. whereas here, especially in the early segments, i’m pretty sure that ed could have died in a ditch somewhere and they wouldn’t have noticed for at least a week.

scar’s characterization is more vulnerable here and both his death and the events leading up to it are insane.

and that’s not even getting into everything with dante, which deserves its own post.

with all that said, i’m also not even done with this show yet. i still have four eps left!!

but, all rambling aside, that’s what specifically gave me the darkfic sort of vibe. not to demean the show or reduce it to fanfic terms, or anything; it’s still very interesting and competent writing. but it just gives me so much whiplash when compared to brotherhood’s overarching feelings of hope and the ability to fight back and change the future for the better. it feels soul-nourishing to me, in a way. meanwhile, ‘03 is like a cavalcade of trauma, all provoked by the question “you know what’d be really fucked up??”

[poopscooplala]

(psa this is mostly referring to the movies)

ive seen a few posts that have bothered me. i searched "remadora bad" on google to see what people were saying and it came up eith tumblrs and reddits etc and they were all really weird.

i recently got into the marauders fandom after reading atyd and being a fan of harry potter since i was a child, this fandom made me really happy because of the escapism it provided. many of us have loved hp and then realised its problematic aspects and seen jkr being the worst and no longer can escape with hp.. and marauders fandom is a much more inclusive and feels safe space. i do ship wolfstar and i want to get this straight because one post mentioned wolfstar shippers and it was definitely a weird take.

the post was about how women who ship two men together hate women because if theres a woman in the picture its always a crime against her i guess? they also touched on fetishisation of gay men in a way that seemed to be encapsulating all of these people into that message.

1. not everyone who ships two men hates women. i mean this is absurd 😭 it seemed much more like this poster was more anti fanon, which is odd. anyone who defends jkr instantly puts me off, i understand if someone is confused by not following canon when talking abt media.. but it shouldnt go so far as to licking jkrs ass saying "shes the author she knows best🤓🤓" we know shes the author, thats half the problem. anyway, i understand this point but it didnt work in the context they were using it for (remadora/wolfstar). the marauders fandom has been criticised for misogyny, but the generalisation of shippers all having that belief is just untrue.

2. fetishisation of gay men is most definitely prevelant in shipping spaces but it goes eithout saying that an entire community of people wont all have the same views and opinions. from personal experience, i have always been wary of fetishising gay men and recently realised that my special interests being shipping different gay relationships has been involved in my gender identity. im not really sure of anything yet but i am exploring being actually a man or gener fluid or non binary.. as i said i dont know yet but i have realised that i have always put myself in these ships, wanting to be one of the men in them (of course this hasnt been the sole reason im questioning my gender). generally, i think shipping is very fun and just a great way of exploring romance in your favourite medias that represent you - which is what many people in the marauders fandom express. i do understand this concern though - fetishisation is a real thing and these ships shouldnt be objectified to be apart of that. i just dont think we should automstically assume every shipper is fetishising gay ppl.

nothing ive talked abt has rlly been abt marauders so far but i just wanted to set up some context and rant abt that post tbh.

as ive grown, ive realised how forced remadora was in the movies. i always felt like it came out of nowhere but i was a kid and i didnt care enough to think abt it like i just wanted to see harry running through the grass and shit. anyway, ive watched a few viedos abt the marauders fandom and about jk rowlings problematic writing and i have a few points to make about remadora and tonks' and remus' characters respectively.

in ootp, tonks is introduced as a fun, independent, and rebellious person. they arent afraid to speak out abt their name to someone more experienced in the field (mad-eye) and they have bright purple hair so obviously they r cool and awesome. they are a metamorphagus(?) meaning they can change some parts of how they look. i, and many others, see this as a symbol of trans teens. correcting the feminine "nymphadora" to a more unisex "tonks", the fact they can literally change how they look (perhaps showing their desire to change themselves ehich many trans people relate to), and their overrall childlike attitude. i think rowling makes tonks young and fun to show immaturity, therefore the transcoded character is sort of displayed as an immature teen that doesnt know any better (insert jkrs transphobic tweets here).

THEN in hbp the newly called "dora" is married. not only is tonks feminised by heteronormativity (a big aspect of stereotypical femininity is marriage) but their general appearance and attitude has changed. her hair is now like a light brown, and this natural colour i feel may allude to the natural order of womanhood is to maybe go through a rebellious gender non conformity teenhood, but eventually we all "mature" into our "natural" womanhood.. may be a reach buut?? anyway, their dialogue in this movie is very small - i assume its different in the book, but i feel like either way their dialogue would be similarly all focusing on remus (way to fail the bechdel test) which ironically is more represantative of jkr hating woman soo the ship they r saying is the anti "gay shippers who hate women" is one of the many symbols of misogyny in jkrs books.. i mean idk if i need to say this but a woman isnt defined by being married/with a man and i feel like jkr is trying to present it that way.

jkr seems to have unintentionally presented her transphobic views in the character of tonks. many people related to tonks because of their gender fluidity and hbp disappointed many with this character development.

now, the age gap between remus and tonks is 13 years which is gross. especially when you think about the more childish representation of tonks in ootp, like theyve been matured in hbp for the purpose of making the relationship less weird? idk but this is a point that really irks me because many ppl ignore this and always conclude that ppl who dont like remadora are just wolfstar shippers and also hate tonks because they r a woman. even if i hated wolfstar id still hate remadora because of this gross age gap😭😭

another post was from like 10 yrs ago so, perhaps the opinions are just outdated considering jkrs problematic behaviour has become more of general knowledge in recent years but they basically were the common "he not gay jkr mad ehim be with woman he cant be gay 🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓🤓" .. jkr has made lots of promises she couldnt keep.. like the whole can of worms that is the time turners (no cedric diggory would not become a death eater please go back to bed omg) so it really isnt unheard of that she could make a gay character and then just.. ruin it?

she definitely didnt intentionally make anyone gay, because she ahtes gay ppl, but remus and sirius are very commonly interpreted to be queer coded. loads of ppl mention this, but even david thewlis (remus lupin actor) read the characters as lovers. many people saw them as lovers so thought remus was gay, then saw him marry tonks and felt confused. of course he could just be bi but jkr wasnt writing that i dont think lolz EVEN if that was the case, remus is meant to be a good character so why is he getting with tonks who is so much younger than him, to me it makes no sense. which is why many people think remadora doesnt make sense, why many marauders fans, including myself, dont see remadora as what would happen. like im not saying that sirius would be a live and blah blah because im referring to a still canon compliant story, it just would not include remadora and its weird energy.

also, jkr said once that lycanthropy was a symbol for rhe aids crisis (thats not a gay allusion at all 🤗). and hootsyoutube makes a great point about how this is problematic. remus lupin is not the only werewolf in the series, greyback is another one that is apart of the wizard nazis and was the one who bit little 5 yr old baby remus lupin. so.. this is very predatory behaviour, i mean he sliterally biting people (like a lion eating a gazelle or sumn idk r u getting what im putting down 😭😭). now, what is a harmful and highly perpetuated stereotype against gay people.. you got it - predatory behaviour. jkr connects the aids crisis to werewolves who are (except remus) presented as predators who prey on little children 😝😝 amazing!!! SO jkr does allude to gay/bi remus buuut its also in a very evil very malevolent light because shes a witch cackling in the night

i hate canon dick riders because not only is the canon problemstic and jkr is evil BUT its literally a made up story... why do you care abt whats canon and ehats not? some may not get it but i love the feeling of being in the marauders fandom, where everything is just made up by us like its so whimsy so fun.

another post that rlly grinded my gears was saying "yall will complain abt remadora age gap but then ship snarry and snermione" which if ur referring to only ppl who ship this then yes you ate down very demure very mindful.. but it wasnt. why ar eppl generalising so hard like i know for a fact I do not ship that... thats pedofilia guys!! and i know most in marauders fandom dont either because most marauders fans i see rnt disgusting monster people? but they also used this to undermine the age gap in remadora, like no they r both bad both weird and the fact that one is by the author of hp is very telling

okay thats the end of my rant uhhh 🥸

[mcl4r3n]

one thing about me is that i am never going to be able to listen to 'illicit affairs' and 'august' by taylor swift without thinking about dando

like especially the bridges in those songs just scream dando angst to me and specifically lando pining for daniel angst. i wish i could expand and explain, but thinking too hard about dando makes me fucking insane 😭

Nonnie. Oh my god. Nonnie this is fucking me up. I'm gonna. im gonna like. curl up into a ball or something because. like. okay.

tw cheating tw WAG mention so i will understand fully if you dont wanna read further than this

Just thinking about like okay so like 2021-2022 daniel and heidi are on and off again, and in the times when they're off, daniel and lando start fucking around, but like the entire shitstorm of 2022 happens yeah and now daniel is on his danbbatical of 2023 and he's taking heidi around the world with him etc etc but in the times when she's NOT with him he's hitting lando up to hook up and like lando was okay with it before, yeah, even until 2022 because like. close proximity and everything.

but like it's Different now because there's none of that. like daniel and heidi are fully Together together and lando sees the photos he posts of heidi at scotty's wedding and he hates daniel and hates her and hates himself but like. he still keeps going whenever daniel asks.

he never mentions heidi to danny, and danny never mentions heidi to him. their hookups are far and in between now because of daniel's schedule but the more time they spend apart the more lando misses him.

the more lando realizes that he is actually jealous and really does want daniel for himself and hates that he's letting himself be the side piece especially on the heels of this horrible season for him.

he starts becoming ruthless about it. he starts wearing daniel's merch (especially since heidi's been wearing daniel's merch too). he starts declaring openly that he misses daniel.

he has this warped idea that if he's more open about how he feels about daniel, it will convince him that he's the one for daniel, actually. but he'd never outright say that to danny. so he thinks he can compete with heidi, show that he's sweeter, more thoughtful, just overall better for daniel.

and then one day like after silverstone, they hookup. and like, okay, post nut clarity, daniel's lying in bed with lando's jizz on his chest and he's staring at the ceiling and he says, "heidi and i broke up."

and lando tenses up. this is the first danny has mentioned her all year. he thinks god. okay. this is it. this is finally it. he pretends he's concerned, but inside he;s rejoicing, and he hates that he is but he is. but he's still like. cautiously asking things like "oh, what happened?" "when?"

and daniel's looking at him really like. . . heartbroken.

"I told her about us."

Lando's frozen. He's like. freaking out, actually. for a whole bunch od reasons but also mainly because like he is a part of this and shouldnt he have gotten the fucking heads up that daniel was gonna tell someone else about them???? and so he's like. speechless.

"I uh. i really hurt her. and i really hurt you too. like, ive been stringing you both along and i just. i dont think—i. this is the last time we can do this."

and lando's tearing up because like. what the fuck. like this isnt what he wanted. he wanted daniel to choose him. so he says so. he says that lando doesn;t mind, that he's right here, that he wants to be with danny, but daniel leans in and kisses his cheek and says, "lando, there's a lot i gotta figure out, and i've. . . i shouldnt be with either of you. im not a good person."

and lando is confused and upset and frustrated for so many reasons, he's worrying now about heidi getting revenge, the press, everything, and daniel says, "she won't tell anyone. she won't. she promised me. and i did hurt her but she told me i needed to get my shit together first before i thought about even thinking of being with anyone else and—she's right."

and lando's chest is caving in and he's like. "so what, you fuck me one last time, didn't even tell me it would be the last time, and now you get to fuck off? why didn't you tell me this beforehand?"

and daniel is like "because you'd have tried to make me stay, and i can't stay. trust me, you don't want this—" he waves his hand around to gesture at himself. "not right now, anyway."

"but i love you. danny, i love you. you don't have to—we can just be together, like, i'm right here, we can just be together already now—"

and daniel is tearing up too and he says, "you should be with someone who isn't an asshole, lando. you should be with someone who didn't string you along and have you play second fiddle when it was convenient. that isn't me."

and now i have written myself into a corner anon and i am deeply sad and i dont know how to resolve this but for NOW it ends here like this. :(