#so im keeping him alive to be a single father

[cabbagecrunt]

it's so funny when you're writing and then you're like wait, this happened in homestuck. bearer of the curse

[yaymiyas]

THE HUSBAND

warning: female reader, saer being….saer, yan!isekai!crown prince

a/n: i was so burnt out so lets see what i come up with ….its short ik and yes im cooking up something w cynthia LET ME COOK 🫡🙄🔥🔥🔥🔥💯💯💯💯

the idea of divorce was swimming in the mist of your mind hours before you regained most of the movement in your body. you knew you had to get out of this situation in a peaceful but quick manner. in your mind, leaving saer should have been easy since he hated edina more than the devil himself. he saw her as a shit stain satan left on earth to torture him for all of his days. so why are tears running down his face…thats odd? from all of the tweets, forums, and blogs saer had close to no emotions for edina. he hated her through and through. in the original story, he would’ve cheered of joy if she simply asked to part ways. so why was he sitting in front of you crying? was the bacon too salty? was he remembering the good ol’ times with his late father? ever since you’ve transmigrated into this story, everything has been so weird. aside from you being close to perfectly fine after being fed poison, saer has became more careful.

in the book, saer was close to a bubbling idiot. every single assassination attempt was stopped by a maid because he was stupid. he always played it as cynthia and amanda favoring edina but that wasnt the full truth. he was just too obvious with everything he was doing. you actually kind of felt back for the dummy, no wonder gracie wants nothing to do with him. regardless of any of that, you actually started to feel a bit bad for him. it was obvious saer didnt know why he was crying or how to stop it by the way his face was balled up in red confusion. maybe it was out of guilt or for the plot, either way you wanted to help him. maybe he wanted to kill you but seeing a grown man cry really did break your heart.

“now, saer..”

gently pushing your hand out to cover his larger ones, you put on a voice of concern. you want to help the poor idiot but you also want to get out of this house alive. maybe playing the sweet docile wife could do you some good, maybe—

“ugh, stupid bitch get off of me.”

slapping your hand off of his, saer attempted to keep a face of pure disgust plastered for you to see. why on earth was he crying, and why on earth are you being so off-putting? at first, your new actions didnt really bother him. were they different? yes, but they weren’t unpleasant. but now...it was as if the poison made you utterly indifferent to his presence, which he told himself he loved, but the lord knows thats a lie. you quietly sitting there, dry-face, with a slight frown and uninterested body language, angered him. saer was crying purely for reactions. he thought that crying would help him close this conversation and make you jump up and beg for his forgiveness, but no. all you did was lift your grimly, beastly fingers to ‘comfort’ him. what a joke of a woman.

“im finished with my breakfast”

the scream of the chair was louder than your own thoughts, kicking you out of your own subconscious. what even was that about? you were TRYING to be the version of edina you thought he would like, second from you killing yourself right there and then. so why was he acting like you were trying to jump his bones? he is such a wicked man….such a sad excuse of a person. its such a shame his attitude is so sour, you were going to try to soften his walls to see if he would lighten up on the poisoning situation. how did he get it? who did he get it from?

“madam,”

lightly placing her hand on your shoulder, cynthia appeared. scaring you out of your thoughts, you straightened your back and put on the best fake smile you could. you knew cynthia didnt really care for you, as demonstrated by the bath she gave you earlier, but you thought that maybe you could melt this ice queen. her soft ginger coils shaped her face in all the right places, giving her olive skin the type of glow women in the real world would kill for. she had green eyes to match alone with it, making it easy to find yourself lost in them. cynthia was a beautiful woman; just how did she become a maid for this jackass?

“his royal highness has ordered for you to be sent to your room.”

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

Hi!! Can i request a hurt/comfort hotch x reader?

Reader is starting to feel lonely in the relationship cause for the past 2 months hotch has only been home for a week total and she really misses him. They haven’t had time to themselves cause even when hotch is in virginia he’s in the office and him getting called out on a case during his day off happens more often than the both of them want to. and even when they text and call it’s not the same.

anyway hotch comes home in the middle of the night after a case and he just finds reader on the sofa crying cause she just really misses her boyfriend and the two of them finally talk about it.

You have permission to break my heart with the angst and put it back together. I know its long and i have no clue if it made sense so im sorry😭😭 enjoy your day💕

༉‧₊˚. 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐟𝐭 || 𝐚𝐚𝐫𝐨𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐧𝐞𝐫

― pairing: aaron hotchner x plus size!reader

― summary: you knew that being with aaron meant that his job came first, you just hadn't realized how badly it would actually affect you. now, your life and love is on the line.

― warnings: ANGST ANGST ANGST!!! you have been warned!, thoughts of breaking up, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, hints of depression.

― wc: 905

⋆ a/n: my first long fic back being angst LMAOOOO. i'm not going to lie, writing this kind of bummed me out a bit but that's how i knew it was going to be good LOL. but never fear, i got a few smutty things in the works, so keep a silly little eye out for that!! i love you guys so so much and thank you for your request!

masterlist | AO3

The room felt melancholic. Empty. 

The sounds of laughter that had once bounced off of the walls of your home now rang silently, one of the only people that knew of the joy that once made your house a home was long gone on a case right now.

You don’t know what to do. How could you last like this? How could your relationship? How could Jack?

Jack, the precious little boy that you had taken under your wing even before you and Aaron had ever made it official. You knew he missed his father dearly, but with every large life milestone the boy had completed, Aaron had missed out on. It had gotten to the point where Jack doesn’t bother to ask you if he could call his dad to tell him about it, because nine times out of ten, he knew that Aaron wouldn’t answer.

So now as you sit here on the couch in the dark with your head in your hands, you can’t help but think that maybe this was it, that it was time to consider the very dreaded other option. 

You tried your best to make your relationship with Aaron work, God did you try, but having to sit there and endure weeks of radio silence, of not knowing whether or not he was alive was excruciating. When he did have time to text or call you, every conversation was more and more distant. 

Hot tears rolled down your cheeks, and your bottom lip trembled. You crossed your arms and placed them on your knees where you leaned on them, staring out into the abyss of your dimly lit living room. You had just put Jack to sleep, and you didn’t want to risk waking him up.

Your eyes solemnly scaled the walls where the pictures of your little family hung, frames upon frames of happy smiling faces. 

What happened?

It was the fact you were absolutely drowning in your thoughts that you didn’t hear your front door unlock – something that your boyfriend would deeply frown upon. 

Aaron wasn’t surprised to find the apartment quiet, what he was surprised to find was your silhouette illuminated by a single lamp. What really set off the alarms in his brain was your shivering shoulders, which could only mean one thing.

“Sweetheart?” His deep voice pierced the thin air hovering above you. You just shook your head, any happiness that would have left your mouth died in your throat, the words leaving you was, “We have to talk.”

You hated doing this, but who’s to say he won’t get called in tomorrow? No, you had to do this now.

Aaron felt his heart fall into his stomach as he made his way over towards you, gently sitting down on the cushion next to yours, almost as if he was afraid to scare you.

“Of course. Are you okay?” He inquired in concern. You just shook your head again. “This isn’t working, Aaron.” The pain lacing your voice was unmissable. “What?” He’s completely caught off guard, because this was the last thing he’d expected to come home to.

“I can’t do this anymore… unless – unless we can figure something out but even then I-” He rushes to grab your hand, and it lays limp and cold in his warm and calloused one. “Honey please, what’s wrong? Tell me what I can do.” Holy shit, he’s panicking. 

“You’re never here anymore! I - I can’t remember the last time in the past two months that we’ve been able to have any alone time together! Most of the time you’re either gone in a whole different state or stuck in the office!” You couldn’t stop the word vomit from leaving, all kinds of emotions that had been kept dormant finally coming up to the surface.

You heaved out a deep breath, your body slumping in defeat. “Did you know that Jack learned how to ride a bike today?” You asked quietly. “No.” Aaron gulped, “I didn’t.”

A heavy silence settled between the two of you.

“What do you need me to do?” Finally, you looked at him.

There were unshed tears in your eyes, “What I want you to do, you can’t make it happen.” His eyebrows furrowed. “You want me to quit my job?”

“No,” You said with a disbelieving laugh. “I just want you to be there.”

“Who says I can’t do that?” His head tilts, his eyes boring into yours, desperately trying to read you. It was like his profiler skills didn’t exist. “Every time you’ve had a day off you’ve been called into the office one way or another.” Your tone is hopeless, like your situation can’t be helped. 

With a harsh squeeze of your eyelids, the tears began to fall, but Aaron was quick to swipe them away.

“Honey, look at me,” He cups the side of your cheek, his thumb brushing away the liquid. Hesitantly you did, and you instantly fell victim to the warmness of his irises. “I will fix this, because I am not losing you. My behavior has been completely unacceptable, and I swear that I will be here for you and Jack more consistently, I promise.”

“How do I know if this won’t happen again?

“I’ll make sure of it.” 

It was the finality in his voice that fizzled out the anxiety in your gut, setting your nerves at ease.

“Don’t make me regret this, Hotchner.”

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @alixwriter @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus

[writingoddess1125]

It seems like a great Morning for DEPRESSION!

You Pass Away Giving Birth

Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile

⚠️Warning:⚠️ Depression, Death, Light gore, Character Death, Overall Saddness

Was listening to sad music and wrote this.

Buggy

There had been complications from the start- being pregnant with twins always had this.. and truthfully Buggy had wanted to curse himself when he learned that he had accidently done this to you. However you remained optimistic- even at the face of peril.

Buggy had hired so many doctors, wanting at least one of them to save you but it seemed that fate was too tightly wrapped around you.

"Y-You're going to be fine I promise (Y/N)-" Buggy said desperately as he sat next to you, watching you battle for the lives of the babies. Another sobbing scream leaving you as doctors rushed in and out with new tools, techniques and more to keep you Alive. However the growing pile of bloody towels and bowls was a clue it wasn't working.

Your mission wasn't to survive but to save the children. Giving Buggys hand a tight bone breaking squeeze you pushed with all your might- Buggy saying words of encouragement till two new lives were brought into this world and you slacked against the bed, pale as paper and your breathing getting shallow.

They rushed the babies to the side of the room as Buggy leaned over you in a panic. Rubbing the hair from your face as he spoke in a panic seeing you slipping away.

"You did it! N-Now Don't leave me please (Y/N)! I'm begging you p-please" He sobbed, but you looked up at him.. gave a gentle smile and worded 'love you' one final time before slipping away right under his fingers... He sobbed and continued his desperate plea for you as he pressed his face against your cold on.

A nurse pulling him back slightly as his world seemed to blur around him- realizing the panic noises of the staff was not for you but for the twins. He didn't even have to say anything as the staff grew quiet at the single newborn cry in the room, sorrowful looks in their eyes as they looked to Buggy. One child laying still on the cot while the other was brought to him.

"I-Im so sorry- Only one survived" The midwife said softly and placed the tiny bundle in his arms still not cleaned and just wrapped in a blanket. Buggy held the suiviving twin, his body feeling cold and chest hollow as he stared down at her beautiful face.. She was so small... so fragile.

He felt his body shake as broken sobs left him and all he could do was hold her close to him, sobbing at the same time the newborn wailed.

"I-Its okay Cry away" He managed to say as he sobbed, feeling it was better in this moment and only this moment to not cry alone. He rocked the both of them in a desperate need to feel comfort at losing the love of his life and one of his children in one night..

He only glanced up from sobbing when the doctor placed a fresh white sheet over you and the deceased child's body. Covering it from sight as the Captian grieved.

Buggy smoothed a shaky hand over the newborn as the Midwife stepped forward to clearn off the newborn and get her dressed. Buggy not even realizing or caring the baby was covered in blood and goo. The midwife was quick, dressing the little girl and handing Buggy a bottle.

The new father still in a whirlpool of sorrow starred to feed her, still crying as before but with a broken smile on his lips.

"I-Im sorry you got saddled with me little one.. It's just us now.. You and me against it all" He said softly trying to ease his crying as the newborn began to down the bottle.

"You look like your mother... I-Im so happy for that... we hadn't figured out names yet, S-So hopefully your mother won't curse me but What about Mei-Mei? Hm?..." He managed as he pulled the empty bottle from her, holding her to his chest and patting her back as he continued to sob.

"Y-Yeah..My little Mei Mei"

Mihawk

It was his fault... he should have stopped you- It was ment as a journey to find a doctor to assist in your soon to be delivery- Mihawk wanting to keep you behind but you insisted on coming along, but due to the enemies of the past it turned into a battle. Mihawk had been sure he had secured you in a safe place, away from the carnage but who would have known a young man barely out of his teens had spotted him and walked into the safe house with his gun raised and shot you-

He heard it, rushing back to slaughter the boy as he saw you laying there holding the wound to your chest and gasping for air.

Mihawk pressing against the wound to stop the bleeding but it was so close to your heart he was sure you grazed it. Your eyes widened as you touched his arm desperately tears flooding your gaze.

"S-Save them" You managed, Mihawk still pressing all the bullet wound on your chest before feeling your body go limp and heart stop right under his palm.

"No..." He growled, anger flooding his system as he was ready to burn this island to the ground- That was till your words rang in his ears and he placed his bloody palm on your stomach, Feeling the fluttering movement of his still alive child just before the surface. He knew what he had to do... Save them- Pulling the cross from his neck he uncapped it and took a shaky sigh.

"I-Im so sorry"

Mihawk felt for the first time his hands tremble, warm tears flooding his yellow eyes as he took a breath... he didn't have much time... Lifting the blade from his cross he struck down, cutting into your flesh as the warmth of your blood flooded his hands. Something he had never wanted to feel-

With care he cut through the corpse of your abdomen and to the womb- With skinned hands he pulled up his child and held them with care. Panic filling his eyes as he didn't hear a cry or them even move- Tossing the cross to the side he began to do cpr on the little girl, carefully forcing air into her lungs and trying to start her breathing.

"Please..." He whispered as he used three fingers to press on the little girls chest to start her heart, Before she coughed and began to wail into the night air. Mihawk sighing in relief and cutting the cord with his teeth unfortunately due to tossing the blade as he held the baby to his chest- Staring down at the gory mess that was you and he had to closed his eyes..

"I'm sorry (Y/N)..." He whispered both at having to disrespect your body even at your request.. and for you not being able to meet your guys daughter.

"... You were right.. a girl" He whispered, looking down finally at his child who was still crying- Shivering a bit from the cold so he took off his coat and wrapped her tightly in it.

"We will name here Meira.. the light of you" He whispered softly. He knew he needed to get his daughter medical attention but wasn't going to leave you like thisveither. So he buried you and placed all the flowers he could ontop of your makeshift grave- Walking away with his daughter in his arms to the closest village.

Crocodile

It had all been going to well- yet in a second it changed.. You had gone into labor just hours before and Crocodile knew what to expect some pain, screaming and other discomforts before you gave birth to a healthy baby. However this? The back to back complications that left you exhausted and You had started to bleed during it all and the nurses started to panic...

You were fighting so hard, Crocodile holding your hand as you struggled to bring his child into the world. While his face was stoic and solid you knew the panic behind his eyes.. his wife the only one he would allow close to his heart- and the doctors were scrambling around you to ease the birth.

However you knew... you left it.. and Crocodile did as well.

"C-Croc promise me... you will love them like you love me..I love you" You manage to whisper out, Crocodile nodding hesitantly in agreement to your shaky words whispered voice managing out a 'I love you too'.

A cry ripped through your throat as another wash of pain hit you. Doctors trying to slow down the bleeding- After a few more desperate moments the doctors pulled the screaming child from between your legs. However that wasn't even highlighted as they scrambled to keep you Alive-

Crocodile being pushed to the side as they started CPR but- he felt it... he saw that final breath leave you and thay light fade from your eyes...

His world felt like it crumbled then, a nurse escorting him out to the benches just outside the room. Truthfully he was too dazed to care- the image of you gone still burning in his eyes.

Crocodile sat there in what could only be a state of shock- His wife was gone... ripped away due to his blood. It didn't take long for a skittish nurse to step forward, holding a blue bundle in her arms.

"I-Im sorry sir... I know there is nothing I can say to-" He shot her glare. Forcing her to shut up as she nodded and instead stepped forward to show him the bundle. There laid a plump baby, Crocodile felt his heart clench- especially when he could see the perfect mix between you and him.. Slowly he reached an arm out and took the baby slowly.

He watched the newborn yawn and cuddled into his chest carefully for warmth, sucking hard on the blue pacifier in his mouth as he clearly dreamt of food.

"...You are fortunate.. I loved your mother more then I can dislike you for taking her away... and I promised her" He said calmly down to the baby, holding him close as he stared down at the boys features. His mind drifting to you laying in bed next to him rubbing oil on the stretch marks of your swollen belly talking about all the hope you had for your child and the future...

"Hope... hm.. In honor of your Mother- your name is Kibo.. her last shred of hope"

[diejager]

hiii!!! Hope u are having a good dayy ☺️

I was wonder how 141 would react/interact with meeting their partner’s family?

feel free to ignore!!

— 🌘 !

Cw: meeting family, nervous?, fluff, tell me if I missed any.

You’d met Johnny’s family last month, all five of you flying to Glasgow in a commercial plane despite the inconvenience of being cramped between him and Simon, stuck in an uncomfortable position where you were squeezed on both side by two walls of muscles. Johnny had a lively family, a farmhouse filled to the brim with happy memories and laughter, permanently imprinted on the walls with wide smiles and vibrant imagery. Although his parents already had so many mouths to feed, they had welcomed you without a thought, pending their home to Johnny’s group and fed you so much that you felt like you would explode by the end of the day. 

Johnny’s was so vastly different from Kyle’s, who you met the month before that, a small family of four with a calmer demeanour than the loud and rambunctious you met the next month. With a smaller family, they owned a smaller house with a single guest room that you shared: three in Kyle’s larger room and two in the smaller guest room. The arrangements were a bit cramped, but the house brought a soft and tender calmness, finding comfort in something slow and expected rather than an unexpected adventure.

Then Price’s sister before both of them, her small married life with one baby cradled in her arms, cooing and giggling at everything that moved. You hadn’t stayed long, all wanting to let her and her husband rest and care for the little babe, but you’d enjoyed your time there. You found a motherly character in Price’s sister, somewhat similar to Laswell when she frowned and scolded your lot for some idiotic plan you came up on the spot. 

And this month, it was your turn, the excitement of it lasting only a few moments before it dawned on you. Blood rushed to your cheeks in embarrassment and nervousness at having them temporary live in your small flat while your parents and siblings live under you. You shared your apartment with your sister, depending on her to keep your home clean and tidy while you were away. 

So she was the first one they met, shaking hands and somewhat shy when they exchanged names, having your sister spin tales about your childhood and small moments that left your red and flustered, hiding away with your feline friend. Listening to them laugh and chuckle at your fumbling and clumsy childhood until you mumbled out wanting to see your parents and brother. 

It had erupted into a chaotic mess of your brother embarrassing you and your parents feeling so grateful for keeping you alive, charming the minds out of the four of them. Especially when your father brought out beers and your mother food: homemade dinner around the table under the warm, yellow light of the kitchen. 

The room was filled with laughter and joy, bubbling with warmth and affection. It made your fear vanish, happy that you were able to show your family the men you loved and cared about. 

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @danielle143 @tuttifuckinfruttifriday @notspiders @brokenpieces-72 @petwifed @randominstake @haven-1307 @shironasumi @sparky--bunny @bloobewy @cod-z @sweetnanah @aldis-nuts @evolutionarry @kaoyamamegami @cassiecasluciluce

[maenecoon]

tw (mostly mild) depictions of violence and blood, bc it's involves vampires, also major spoilers for a fic im working on rn

so

i may or may not have a vampire kimchay fic idea

except the execution of it is going to have me combusting into flames??

anyways, thoughts about kim finding an annoying baby bat in the forest. he wants to ignore it, but he can't. so fine, he takes it in.

except...

kim definitely doesn't know how to care for a feral bat.

anyways! cue sweet/fluffy/bat-and-vampire shenanigans! like babybat so sated with blood that he becomes a little drunk, or at least the bat-version of drunk. babybat who flies into the window trying to escape because he's not good at echolocatio. babybat who sneaks into kim's closets to bite holes in every single one of his silk shirts.

vampire!kim somehow being whipped af for this cute but annoying little shit that he's somehow adopted. feeds him blood pudding and gives him many head scritches. shows him his red string murder board and rambles about his murder plans and all. vampire!kim who started off detesting or tolerating this pest at best but unable to imagine starting a day without the weight of babybat curled up on his chest.

then the murder plan happens. kim wants korn (his father/sire) dead, bc who doesn't, and he sneaks in to "kill" him.

he's gone in, wooden stake and holy water and all.

he goes bat-shit crazy. bodies of full-sized vampires drop to the floor around them as kim works with ruthless efficiency. he's memorised the techniques of his father's men and their weaknesses. he's dreamed about this for centuries. and it's pays off.

and then enters korn.

korn was always going to be the issue.

kim had no plans of returning alive - he knows to end lorn by all means necessary even if it means his own life - but korn has gotten more powerful. sire bonds are difficult to break, and even if kim has been diluting the bond and doing his absolute best to weaken their link, korn still has kim in an iron grip.

(if you'd read my phayurain vampire fic, there's this thing about sires being able to control their fledglings because of a bond they share when a vampire (sire) turns someone into a vampire (their fledgling). )

anyways.

when suddenly a weight in his pocket starts to stir. it's the little shit, the bat. and kim's all panicked because little shit is small and harmless and now barely the size of half his palm? like, kim's on his knees and has his hands shaking with effort not to plunge the stake into his own chest, by the command of korn.

it takes just a second, but bat flutters out of kim's pocket. bat, with all the rage that a bat can muster, swings himself right on korn's face and digs his fangs into korn's eyes. the eyes are part of what maintains the sire-control that korn has over kim, and kim is able to use that split second to drive the stake into korn's heart.

the moment that korn falters, falling to the ground with a thud, is the moment that the bat drops to the floor.

kim thinks like yeah, fuck, that must've taken a lot out of this poor baby bat, and god that fall looked bad, when all of a sudden the bat is expanding. almost like his bones are breaking (and kim winces because that sounds anguishing) and reforming and he keeps growing bigger and bigger and bigger until kim realised that this was no bat.

this was a vampire, trapped in the form of a bat.

this is his fledgling, his fledgling who was supposed to have died.

chay.

yeah anyways!! fun little story that i'm working on rn!! lmk what you think/want to see, if you got to the end of this! !

[googleincognitomode]

Hg headcanons

Tw: some sad and depressioning content

- I don’t think mrs Everdeen ever re-marries again. I also don’t think she will ever date again. I think Katniss might even try to encourage her to seek somebody out, to make her less lonely and more whole family again. But she always declines and goes on “its only once in your life you have a x love // no, im happy how I m right now with you!// I can’t never find another like him”. I think she also does hold habits that she did just for mr Everdeen- like she has one side of the bed with double the amount of pillows because he always slept with it for his sore shoulder, or makes specific meals that HE particularly likes, or looks at the clock specifically at 5:34 pm because that was the time he always come home and she would toy with her wedding ring in dinner because he did that. She reads their book ever night before bed n specifically traces his handwriting, especially with the letter in his name. I don’t think she even buys her favourite flowers anymore because they both remind her of her daughter/husband, and that hurts her too much. Yes I think she is happy n her and Katniss have a better relationship, but some things are just too happy/painful to change up.

- However, I think hazelle, gale’s mum, does remarry/de-facto at some point in the future. I think it was a resistant thing to begin with, and I think even gale try to be rude to his step-father, but he warms up to cuz his mother is happy again. I think her and mr Hawthorne got together very young and that she is still wanting to live her life to the fullest.: like married at 19/21 and had gale by 20/23. Plus, she wants a father-figure for Vick and posy. Likely, I think she would even up w a single father in a similar situation or a widower who wants a big family. I think they still celebrate the deceases special days, and are a happy blended family. I also think gale also would warm up to his step-father because I think he respect him and also wants a father again, whilst seeing his mum happy again with a partner who loves her.

- Annie does not remarry. She is so content and happy w her son and still holds a long-lasting love for Finnick that won’t go away. I think once she tried, but it never worked out to ever date again. All her romantic started with Finnick and vowed that everyday that passes is only a day closer to be joined again with her love. She keeps him alive, reading his poetry and letters and wears his jumpers she made for him. And then mini Finn inherits it and she feels more present with him.

- mini finn looks just like Finnick, with just Annie darker hair. But everything else is just a copy of Finnick: his smile, eyes, height and mannerism. Even sounds like him. If in another life, I imagine her and Finnick having three boys. Named smth like Morgan, Adrian w mini Finn called Flynn (associated with the name Finnick, wanting to give him his own identity but still close w his father). Even would be considered.

- I think eventually, haymitch will get a mini farm. Its canon ( I think) he has geese, and eventually he get more animals too. Starting off with dog and then goats and ducks afterwards. But its not a lot of animals. Maybe 2 goats, 1 dog (a rescue he picked up), 4 ducks and 5 geese.

- I also think haymitch never fully becomes sober. yes, I think he will slow down his alcohol consumption and drink a little less heavily, but his body depended on it for too long that I think it would leave him unfinctional if he doesn’t have some. He’s been on it too long, though you can fix bad habits, they never fully go away.

- Annie and finicky like to collect seashells together in district 4 and make things from it. I think Annie knows how to make jewellery, cuz I imagine her dad a a pearl farmer and jewellery maker, and then finnick asked her to teach him nd he makes them for her. Annie knits and makes jumper/sweaters for finnick/mags.

- In connection to above, I think finnick is always cold or desperate wants to remain warm. Since d4 is in California, Annie makes him fisherman jumpers to wear at home. I think she makes mags fuzzy socks and they knit together. Mags makes her socks and crochet cover ups for the beach. Even jumpers too. Finnick can’t knit to save his life, but he likes being around the girls n reading to them

- Johanna’s dad was a carpenter and very talented in wood-working. I think she is similar like that too, cuz if she wasn’t to be a victor, I think she would be in the family trade. She makes everything-EVERYTHING by scratch for the home. Can make tables n chairs n cupboard, even a kitchen she could make by hand. She likes it because it distracts her from everything that haunts her. She made mini Finn a cubby house for play, where she and Annie join and have parties together (they live together as friends-sisterhood)

“Aunty Jo, would you like some more tea?” // “yes. Thank you mini Finn. Annie, sea biscuits for your drink?” // “That’s very nice of you Jo! Shall we afterwards watch a movie together? How about finding nemo?”

- I can’t explain it, idk why, but gale is born in between January n is a Capricorn. ((In deductive reasoning- it could happen! In July (reaping) his 18. when he dad died, he was already 14, while Katniss was still 11 turning 12. there is only a 2yr age different, rolling out the possibility of his birthday being more jan/December. Then, by the time it was snowing, coming around late dec/early in d12 (in Kentucky) he was already working in the mines. He also mentioned that he had 6 entries in his name for his first hg = where you can only enter your name once for every member of your family. In maths 7(July) - 6 (month entries) = 1 (jan). Also, by the time mj begins, gale has just turned was still 19- meaning his birthday has not occurred after July-december/jan, and then turns 20 later one, meaning during winter & jan, a new year. Plus, in horoscopes, he defiantly seems like a Capricorn: practical, overachieving, persistent n ambitions (very gale-esque). I place him between jan 7-18th).

- Psa, this is not perfect and I am most likely very very wrong

- Mags never had children, or at least couldn’t. I think early trackers messed up with her reproductive system and/or was afraid for her children, so she mostly adopted victors as her kids. Implying that finnick was her child and Annie too. But I do think she marries, simply because she had a wedding band in cf.

[catwyk]

tsv finale spoilers below. i wrote this during my first listen through. its long as fuck. im dead im ruined.

cull calling out to rane instead of faulkner.... rane is truly the real leader now

FAULKNER......

"katabasian rane? sister thurrocks?" im gonna be sick

"hes basically a cow" spit your shit carp

"people in my life keep leavin to serve a cause i just cant understand" BASHES MY HEAD ON THE WALL

"we must love them for fleein from our touch e must not run after them" oh baby :(

this is actually fucking destroying me right now oh poor faulkner. failed by the world.

"of course i recognize you. youre carpenter's ghost" // "yes. i am" // "that must mean that im being punished. arent i?" he sounds so small and young oh my god

"if this is my punishment, then why am i smiling?" OKAY PARALLELS TO HIS VISIONS IN S2. OKAY. IM NOT GOING TO CRY. I WONT.

his monologue is ruining me actually oh god.

"they invented their own faulkner. and they forced me to be him" THATS WHAT IM SAYIN

he called her his sister...

im sure hes gonna die

"you crashed a car??" // "yeeah. i crashed a car." i love her

"they need to fix you, they need to make you better, and ill, ill watch over your bed, ill be there, carpenter. ill pray, ill pray and pray for as long as i need to" christ alive. i need to lay down RIGHT NOW.

méabh de brún too good at acting like shes in pain im abt to dial an ambulance

EM??? EM MENTION. EM MENTION

ok this is fuelling my hc that faulkner reminded carpenter of em in some painful and undefinable way

"i should tell paige that story, if i get to see heg again"

"OUR paige?" CRYING FOR A MILLION YEARS. AND HIS "HUH" AS WELL WHEN CARPENTER CONFIRMS

twin mouths truther forever

"i hate you too, faulkner, i truly do. and i love you, too. in spite of everything" // "always on the very precipice of understanding one another"

faulkner's "DEAD, DEAD, DEAD!" is fucking me up b narr the voice actor everrr

SHES GONNA LEAVE HIM A CAIRN 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

"there'll be a place for you, and itll be beside me" DRIVING STRAIGHT INTO A LAMPPOST AS WE SPEAK

NO HES GONNA TRY AND KILL HER ISNT HE

"yeah. perhaps thats it. do you?" again. coolest fucking character on the planet

"this is when the waters parted, and at last..! at last he understood!" jesus christ. jon ware the writer that you are

"say you were raised in the service of a god of fire. so you feel like the world would be a much better place if more things were on fire" i busted out laughing WHAT a tone shift

"dennis duplace helped. hayward.. dad.. carpenter.. im leaving all of you behind" i am a husk of a person. lucille valentine knocking it out of the park

"best feeling in the world, seeing you walk away" holy fucking shit this is DAMAGING ME.

i wanna write every quote thats making my heart sting but the transcript is already up so theres no real point

every single va is popping the FUCK OFF by the way. i have to keep reminding myself theyre acting so i dont like. kill myself

val saving hayward was NOT on my bingo card what the fuck

"and before she died... she remembered who she was" OHHHHHHH MYYYYY GODDDDDD

hayward doing his own rites of the cairn maiden for himself :(

no gods coming for hayward but "fuck it. this one's not... for any of you. this ones for me"

WHY IS FAULKNER BACK. NONONO ITS ONLY GONNA BE BAD. PLEASE NO

i never realized the parallel between faulkner's gardener father and his gardener god

carpenter meant so much to him :(

"Sister! I love you! Where are you going? Dont turn your back on me! Dont you dare- Sister! I need you! SISTER! SISTER! MARCO! MARCO!" FAULKNER NO NOT LIKE THIS NO NO NO NO NO NO NO

FUCK YOU JON WARE (<- COMPLIMENT)

THE FAULKNER BODY FAKEOUT. SEE ABOVE POINT

carpenter's scream...... oh god.. oh méabh de brún the woman that you are

"he could be a face from my childhood. or his" charlie.......

HES BEEN BLOND THIS ENTIRE TIME????????????? i should have fucking known

"but no matter how it starts, no matter how it turns out for us, it can end with love, cant it? it can end with love. it can end with kindness." i said oh my god out loud

the delivery of "and then i let him go" why not just drive a railroad spike through my lungs

"the river is vast, and no dam can block every channel, and ours is a world of miracles." i said jesus christ out loud

i wheezed when she just. got back up this old bitch cannot die can she

not nana glass' song............

FUCKING TAINSLEY. CHEKHOVS TAINSLEY.

oh my god. a final heartbreaking credits scene

i had to just sit and lean back for a second. what a fucking ending. what a fucking podcast. this is one of those pieces of media that takes up residence in your brain forever. im never gonna stop thinking about this

[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

[thiniceofeternalyouth]

MISLEADIN' ME SERIES: CHAPTER EIGHT

COLD WASTELAND

⊳ Gojo Satoru x f!reader

series masterlist

Genre: angst, fluff, sci-fi, cosmology.

Words count: ~13k

(hey im still alive and i will release three more chapters next week)

⊲ previous

[December 6, 2019; 12:32 am; Hopetown].

All the possible scenery that Gojo could have seen on the way home was invisible to him - you and your grateful expression were in front of his eyes. There were no sounds of the surroundings and no one's voices for him – only words spoken aloud and those that never left his lips were rushing in his head.

One random tap on his shoulder was what made Gojo come to his senses. He was already standing in the middle of the living room, and the place was overly hectic, but it wasn't the kind of bustle that was inherent in the holidays. All the whispers and quiet conversations in the room spread across his back like someone's bony hands, leaving behind only an aching sensation and a chill. A single girlish sob made those hands pierce the flesh, running the cold deep beneath the skin. "What's going on here?" asked Gojo, confused, shifting his gaze from Frank to the crying Danielle.  

Frank fussily poured water into a glass. "Son, I'm sorry I pushed ya. Didn't even notice ya," he hurried over to the lump-like Danielle sitting on the couch and handed her the glass; the girl took it with trembling hands and took a couple of convulsive sips as Frank wrapped her tighter in the blanket. Pulling away from Danielle, Frank turned to Gojo. "Ya just don't worry too much. I don't know how it happened, but Megumi ended up in the void. I've already sent Kyle and Issu, now Rachel will be back too, I'll feed her quickly and send her back to search. Everything will be fine."

"I-" Danielle started, but was interrupted by her own sobs. "I-I don't know how it happened- We- We were just lying there, talking, a-and then all of a sudden- Oh my God," with each word she managed to say, the lump from the new tears coming up clenched her throat more and more, and when the limit was reached, she started crying again. "I don't know, I just saw a flash and he disappeared. I-I don't know," pressing the glass to her forehead she shook her head with such force that water spurted over the edge.

The bad news sounded absurd, but with each passing second, the tight feeling in his chest only grew. The single question knocked everything else out of Gojo's head and began to flit back and forth until it was on the tip of his tongue. "Is this some kinda joke?" 

"I'm afraid not, son," Frank clapped him on the shoulder, and at the same moment, a faint purple flash showed somewhere in the distance. "There's Rachel. Give us fifteen minutes," the man had already thrown on his jacket. "It'll be okay," he added quietly before heading out the door.

Gojo stayed in the room with Danielle, and he knew that if he couldn't let his emotions out in private, he had no right to do so in front of the child.

He walked over to the couch where Dany was sitting and clumsily plopped down. Gojo put his foot on the leg and glanced stealthily at the girl - she still sat shrunken and twitching. "You know," he said, smiling nonchalantly. "He is very much like his father. Not just in looks," the smile was replaced for a moment by a grimace of disgust. "Megumi's just as stubborn, and just as much of a pain in the ass. Also tenacious, to top it off," Gojo sighed and leaned his head back on the back of the couch, still keeping his eyes on Dany. "Trust me, if you knew his dad, you'd know what I'm talking about. So... He'll be fine," he added, but already addressing it himself more than Danielle.  

After a while, Danielle's sobs began to fade, but her sleepy restless sighs grew louder. She never changed her posture and fell into slumber in the same way she had cried, sitting up with her knees to her chest. 

Gojo tried his best to fall into the arms of Morpheus, but each time, at the boundary between sleep and vigor, he unconsciously raised his head and looked at his watch; time was indeed dragging for him in slow agonizing snatches. 

He was about to lay his head on the armrest in another desperate attempt to sleep, but he jumped up before anything could happen. Whether it was the violet light through the floorboards or the loud rumbling in the room above - before he could think which came first, he was running for the stairs.

Gojo opened the door to Megumi's room with such force that it nearly flew off its hinges. His student was lying on the floor, his limbs barely moving, his chest heaving, and though there was plenty of oxygen in the room, Megumi was pressing the ill-fitting mask to his face as hard as if his life depended on it. 

Gojo sat him down and leaned him against the wall in one motion, trying not to pay attention to the mask or ask hasty questions. He squeezed Megumi's cheeks with his hands and immediately grimaced – boy's skin was burning cold. "Oh, you cold as ice! Is the gut of your soul coming out?" Megumi shook his head weakly as if warding off an annoying fly. "Alright, let's go see Shoko. Better yet, to doc. It's kinda his thing."

"I'm fine," Megumi said weakly in a hoarse voice, and he even had the strength to shove Gojo's hands away from his face - a clumsy and careless movement. Something tinkled in Gojo's ear, and at that moment, something in his soul snapped. He tried not to notice, tried not to ask any questions, tried not to look around - all in vain. 

Megumi had seen all sorts of expressions on Gojo's face: happy, condescending, serious, mocking, disgusted, all of which made him want to punch that man as hard as possible. However, what was that expression now that he was examining the watch on his wrist, where was that frightened look coming from? "Megumi, where-" the voice was also barely recognizable; it was as if it was not his teacher, but his ghost that sat before him. "Where did you get that watch from?" 

[Timeless, void]

Your frostbitten skin was so tight that every slightest change in your facial expression created new bleeding cracks in your face. Even though they healed in minutes, new ones replaced them almost immediately.

Your running had long since changed to pacing, and you were dragging your feet without realizing what you were doing - everything was automatic. The feeling of sand in your shoes was so unpleasant that you thought: what if it had gotten under your skin? Everything inside creaked as if grains of sand were scraping against bones.

You climbed stubbornly up the next hill, but it was hardly a great climb; you were bent over, clinging to the surface with all your limbs. The sand kept seeping through your fingers, forcing you to dig your fingernails in even deeper until your hands sank to your elbows in the earth.

Once again, you pushed your palms into the ground with a little more force than necessary: your hands were in the sand, and your face was in the there too. You didn't immediately find the strength to raise your head, but you exhaled angrily.

How long have you been here? A week? Two? A month?

In the midst of all those thoughts, you didn't immediately notice that your numb limbs were tingling. You lifted your head and brought your hand closer to your face, trying to get a better look at it and make sure it wasn't another trick of this place. You twirled your palm, examining it. Other than the cracks, the hand looked perfectly normal. If it wasn't a trick, however…

Did that really mean it was getting warmer in this area?

You immediately snapped out of it - how long had it been warmer? Your arms began to work faster and harder, and you were no longer annoyed by your own mistakes and sliding down when you made them - you kept climbing anyway. You tried to keep your breath short: it was worth saving your strength, because if it got warmer, it could only mean one thing.

Somewhere nearby was a settlement.

The same horizon - but now its violet flames were even brighter - was still before your eyes, and you slid down the slope and breathed a sigh of relief that the path across the plain would be less thorny. Your hands were clutching at aching places - your sides, your right hip, and your left calf was cramping, and you stumbled through your own leg with every step.

Still you went forward, and the farther you went, the more immobilized bodies you saw: some of them were almost buried under the sand; some had hardly a dozen grains of sand on them. Here the rifts loomed up one after another, and each time you looked at them, your heart sank with longing - in space, you were barely a few dozen feet from home; in time, give or take infinity.

The closer you got to the settlement, the less the light cast glare, and everything began to appear just like a mirage: slow and smooth.

There was only one straight street, flanked by huts made of scrounged wood and scrap metal. The metal sheets were of different sizes and squeezed into various places in the dwellings - they looked like they were about to fall off. Some of the walls in the houses were replaced by welded mesh fences, and it was all askew as if it was tired of everything that was happening.

The houses didn't even have doors; like a mockery, they had ridiculous pieces of wood swinging on their hinges. There were no garbage cans, either; trash was piled in huge heaps in various corners. The finest thing was at the end of the street: as if showing their place among the humans, on a rise stood the buildings of demons, and they were not made of dying and outmoded materials. Everything looked solid and fancy, and in these buildings were mixed so many styles of architecture, which was not known even to the most enlightened person in this case. Even the parts that fell off the houses never really fell - they slowly and smoothly began to run in circles around the place, illuminating everything with a cold violet light as if without it not everyone here froze to the bone.

You dragged your feet along the street; from every side came the sound of sobbing noses and coughing, and it was of such force that you wondered whether the lungs of such a person were still there, or whether they had been spat out on the ground. People here either wandered from place to place or stayed in the huts, but some of them curled up in a ball or leaned their backs against the wall and sat motionless in the street.

You woke up from a push in your shoulder - a person was running past you, and they didn't seem to notice you as much as you didn't notice them. You couldn't see their face, it was hidden under a hood, but you guessed what you could see: a skinny face, huge black circles under their eyes (if they were there at all), sores on their skin. You glanced up to see where the person had retreated from, and at the same moment, you were skulking into the alley between the houses - the demon was chasing them; maybe the demon was running in their direction for a different reason, but you didn't want to stay in the front of the line.

You circled the huts and found yourself in the tentative backyard; luckily, a few of them had loopholes inside. There was no use thinking about which one to go into first - none of them would be any good, anyway - so you took a couple of steps and went into the nearest opening.

No matter how hard you squinted, it was dark in the shack, and there was only the rustle of activity to tell you that you were not alone. Before you could even take a step forward, a beam of light was shone in your face, causing you to squeeze your eyes shut and take a step back. "Who the fuck are you?" you only wanted to answer as you felt several cold pokes on your neck through the fabric of your uniform. Closing your watery eyes against the light, you looked down -  a stick with nails at your throat. As you tried to turn your head to try to see who was holding the melee weapon, it was immediately and violently pulled back to its previous position.  

You slowly raised your hands, the cold nails turning into teeth that dug harder into your skin. "Guys, I don't really want any trouble. We're kinda in the same boat."

"Oter, make sure she doesn't mess around," the man behind you, though he didn't take the stick from your throat, grabbed you by the hair and pulled your head back. The light from the lantern in the room flickered in different directions and was no longer aimed directly at your face - the man holding it was searching his pockets for something.

Footsteps sounded, and the man came closer and closer. He put his hand over your face, and you immediately felt the rough fingers and uncut nails - he tried to tear your mask off. It didn't work. "What is it?" it was no longer your voice; it was the voice of accumulated fatigue and hunger - mocking and arrogant. "Ya hands shaking or something?"

Your eyes were watering again - not from the light, but from the sharp pain in the bridge of your nose. Something warm and sticky dripped from your nose and down your lips. "Now you got the dangers of opening your mouth when you're not asked. Here," he barked and grabbed your forehead with the palm of his hand and pressed it into the man behind you. "Sniff," you felt something under your nose, but you couldn't see what it was. It didn't smell like anything. After a couple seconds, the man, seeing that you had no reaction, exploded with a roar. "I knew it, bitch! These things can't smell it! Youcan'tsmell it!"

"I just have a poor sense of smell," you sniffled, trying to suck back either the snot or the blood that was leaking out.

The man ran his hand up your cheeks, squeezing them. "And you're still being sassy? Didn't the previous time teach you anything?"

"Man," you whimpered in a voice strangled from behind puffed cheeks. "Have ya ever thought about the course of action? Ya broke my fucking nose. How am I supposed to feel anything?"

He babbled conspiratorially, his grip on your face weakening with each word. "Oter, we have to hand her over to them. Even if she's not one of them - look at the way she's dressed. She wasn't dragged here by force, and if they find her here, we are dead." 

"That's enough," you hissed, and slashed your dagger at the tendon of the hand that held the stick to your throat; the man behind you immediately dropping it and howling weakly. You saw the man in front of you raise his fist to strike; you grabbed him by the wrist of attacking hand, pulled him to you, and punched him twice in the bridge of his nose with the hand clutching the dagger. Eye for eye, and nose for nose.

The man grubbed his face and bent over - no time to waste, you and your seething anger grabbed him by the hair and dragged him over to the man who was desperately clutching his arm, trying to stop the blood. In the darkness, you could just make out the glint in the other man's panicked eyes, but if you weren't being treated kindly, there was no reason not to return the favor. Gathering your strength, you kicked him in the knee, and there was a crunch - it seemed that calcium was a rare part of the diet here. With a final breath, you slammed the head of the man floundering in your hand into the other man's head, and both of them fell to the floor, their hands pressed to sore spots. You had to hand it to them - they didn't even whimper, just sputtered quietly from time to time.

You felt like a pendulum in a clock, swinging from side to side. You saw some shelves and drawers in the darkness, and you went toward them; as you took a step, you tripped over the stick with the nails, and your body almost collapsed on the rotten boards. You kicked the wood irritably with your foot toward the men. "Pick up ya toothpick," you hissed and waddled back to the shelves.

You grabbed the handle of one of the lockers and pulled the door toward you; the handle was still in your hand, but the locker collapsed to the floor with a resounding thud. A heavy sigh involuntarily escaped your lips as you stared blankly at the mess you had made. "Ya have any water?" you glanced back over your shoulder.

The response was so immediate that for a second it felt like knives, not words, were coming at your back. "Fuck you," spat out the man - the one who'd probably been the instigator of the altercation.

"Well, ya need to take me on a date first," you drawled, inspecting whole shelves as carefully as you could, barely touching them. "I'm afraid that's not possible right now, though. Ya have to be patient."

There was a screech of a metal layer behind you as if it was being bent aside - you tried to turn around, but your head only spun more violently. "What's going on here?" the man's voice was so stern and set that you immediately wanted to straighten up.

"Legally, a criminal offense," you mumbled to yourself as you continued to open drawers. "In practice, a fucking circus."

There was a growing creak of floorboards behind you. The man was moving toward you, and the closer he got, the more you could see the violet color that lit up the room. You hated to admit that you were a cornered, wounded animal, but the words fell from your lips against your will. "If ya touch me, ya'll lose both hands."

"I'm not gonna hurt you," the voice sounded close, almost above your ear, and though it remained just as set, it was no longer harsh. On the contrary, the owner of the voice was trying to sound as soft as possible. "Calm down. You're not gonna find anything here anyway," hearing the soothing tone, you immediately gave up and leaned your back against the wall; you thought you had enough strength to stand like that for some more time, but you, against your will, started sliding down it. "Here, water. Drink some," the man pulled the bottle toward you.

"Didn't ya say there was nothing here?" you asked quietly but indignantly.

The man chuckled. "There really isn't anything here. I brought this water just now. The daily... Or weekly... Anyway, the regular dry rations the demons give us," he sat down beside you and set something on the floor that looked like a glass oil lamp, only inside it, instead of a flame, was a levitating little pebble that gave off a purple glow; it was like the ones that circled around the demon buildings.

The man opened the bottle for you; you nodded gratefully, took the bottle from his hands, and took a couple of sips.

"What are you fiddling with her for?" hissed one of the battered men from the far corner. "You know that she can't smell black orchid?"  

"No," replied the man in a cold tone, sitting next to you. "The only thing I can see is that you're jumping on a woman who can barely get her feet off the ground. Have you forgotten what it feels like?" the man in the corner immediately hushed. "Don't be cross," he turned to you, his voice changing as fast as if he had a switch somewhere. "In a place like this, people quickly become angry paranoid."

Despite the water you'd drunk, your parched lips were still struggling to open. "It's okay," you said, waving it off.

The man looked at you intently, not at you to be precise, but at your tattered but still durable uniform. "Uh...," he began, and an awkwardness hung in the air. "Where are you from?"

In a place like this, the question felt odd, and there was no way to answer it accurately. What did he want you to say? The place where you were born? The city you lived in now? The time you came from?

"From the height of my years, I can say that it was in the North that the first hunter appeared-"

"North," you said and were taken aback: the answer came off on its own, without your consent.

"Oh," the man said so cheerfully that you could almost hear the corners of his lips raised. "I didn't know hunters could come in here now," you were interested and it never faded, but you didn't have the energy to ask. The man noticed your surprised look. "My wife was a hunter. The powder that asshole shoved under your nose was just grinded black orchid. She's the one who gave it to me."   

"Powder?" you asked. "The extract's a little more potent, isn't it?"

"I'm sorry," the man apologized jokingly, shrugging his shoulders. "It's a lot easier to carry around powder than liquid," he hushed, and you could see him running his intertwined fingers over his hands. "Listen, you... maybe you know my wife? Her name is Olivia."

"Uh, it'll be a strange to ya, but... Do ya remember what year ya got here?"

The man scratched his frayed gray beard. "In 1935, I think."

An unpleasant feeling in your chest made you press your lips together. "I'm sorry, but I, uh... I don't think I know your wife."

"It's nothing," the man smiled, but his clouded gaze told you otherwise. Only now did you notice how deep the wrinkles in the corners of his eyes were. "I really didn't have much hope. Everyone you ask around here comes from a different time. If they even understand what you're asking them. The language barrier is the least of our problems, but sometimes it gets in the way. So... It's a good thing you didn't have that problem," he awkwardly shook his palms off his pants and held out his hand to you. "My name is Jonah."

Though weakly, you still shook his hand in return. "Y/N," you said shortly and then fell silent, but Jonah was in no hurry to say anything. You rarely felt shame, but right now it was choking you with such force that you immediately wanted to find a mirror and check your neck for brightly colored bruises. "Jonah, I'd love to justify your joy at the news that I'm a hunter, but I'm afraid I can't get ya out of here. Something's come up and... uh, I dunno," you wiped your face with your hands, trying to push away the rushing blood. "Hopefully ya have an extra dumpster here where I can stay."

"I'm sorry, we have some real slaughters going on here for trash," the man chuckled, rising to his feet. "But I can spare you a spot on the floor. You make yourself as comfortable as you can, and I'll find you some clothes," he headed for the entrance, and you could hear him in a quiet but warning tone instructing other men to behave, and something about saving the lantern. "One more thing. Y/N," he addressed you again. "Take the mask off. You're a little... stand out."

There was nothing to object to, so you nodded in response. With a firm hand, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and set it on the shelf, then moved closer to the lamp Jonah had left behind - at that point all your confidence was gone, eroded, drained away. You stared at yourself in the dark screen, and the more you looked at yourself, the more it began to itch under your skin. Able to challenge anyone, but unable to challenge yourself - that's what you were. A weakling, a coward, unable to look at your own face.

Slowly, you ran your fingers up to your ears and wanted to trace down the lines to your chin, but you couldn't. Your fingernails dug into the skin, and you didn't loosen your grip even when your fingers got wet and sticky. "I told you she was crazy," you heard a grunt from the corner of the room, but no one attacked.

It was just a mask, but why did it feel like you were ripping your skin off? You began to scratch your face where your nails had dug into it. There was only one thing you wanted to do right now - to keep the tears from running down your face with the blood. You exhaled sharply and ran your fingers along the line from your ears to your chin.

Something was staring at you from the phone screen, and it had a bloody face. However, here was the odd thing: the reflection had the most ordinary eyes, the most ordinary features, and it didn't look angry or cruel. If you ignored the oddity of the blood running down its face, it was a human.

[February 19, 2020; 05:56 am, hunters' hq]

Mission after mission, assignment after assignment, whether it was a powerful curse or a completely weak one, Gojo agreed to everything; but on his free days, the ones he now considered cursed, he was here in the workroom, even though he knew with his mind that he would be better off staying away from this place.

Every day there was less and less of you left in the workroom. All the things you'd left behind or scattered about had long since been either cleaned up or thrown away; your scent was long gone, and no matter how much Gojo pressed your pillow against his face, he felt nothing - it had been washed a dozen times since you'd disappeared. 

Gojo was desperately clinging to the specter of your vanishing presence, otherwise why did he jump up every time a notification sounded on his phone? Why did he check every time to see if his messages had reached you? Why did he still feel the unceremonious poke of your finger on his forehead when he ignored the alarm clock and why the hell was he so angry at the sleep that never came? After all, it was the only one who gave him the chance to hold you one more time.  

He hated himself just for thinking it, but he was so angry with you. You'd disappeared just when he'd given up on being alone.

It was as if Gojo could see himself through his clouded mind: he got out of bed, and with barely a shuffle of his feet, he went into the bathroom, and now he could see his reflection in the mirror, holding a brush in his hands. He'd long ago given up trying to get rid of the bags under his eyes - at the very least, he needed a good full night's sleep. All he could do was come up with more jokes on unnecessary questions about his well-being.

Each time he hoped that if he left the workroom, he would breathe easier, but each time the hope was false. Well, if sleep didn't come, maybe this time he'd get one bite of food down his throat.

Once in the kitchen, Gojo immediately noticed Rachel wobbling in her chair. He peered over her shoulder - she was staring at the screen of her phone, which had a picture of a man open. Why was she clutching the phone with such force that her knuckles even turned white? "Who is it?" he asked and Rachel twitched, but immediately locked the screen. "Another poor guy you plan to break the heart of?"  

"Back off, leech," Rachel barked and threw the phone on the table. Gojo shrugged and walked over to the fridge and opened it; it was full of food, but he didn't even want his favorite one. Leaning, he glared blankly at the contents - or looked through it. "If ya're not gonna eat, close the fucking fridge," Rachel mumbled drunkenly.

It was enough for him to finally snap; Gojo turned around sharply, snatched the unfinished bottle of wine off the table with a jerk and tilted it over the sink, glaring at Rachel, swinging the bottle mockingly.

"Don't ya dare," Rachel hissed, trying to rise from her chair, but barely making a couple movements, she abruptly put her hand over her mouth.

Gojo, trying to suppress his disgust, raised his eyebrows defiantly and tilted the bottle even more. It may have been an immature act, but what if all the despair, all the longing and bitterness poured out at that gurgling sound? 

Rachel leaned back in her chair and stared at him. "Why ya so mad?" she asked, confused in her words; his silhouette blurred in her eyes no matter how hard she focused.  

"Me? Mad? Wow," grinned Gojo, tossing the bottle into the trashcan. "Not one bit."

"Yeah? Well, then I was wrong. Your face just looks like ya've been drinking shit-"

"You know what I'm curious about?" snapped Gojo and his outburst, though expected, did not lessen its harshness. "Is this how it runs in your family? One of you goes missing and the rest of you live like nothing happened?" 

"That's it," Rachel lazily clucked her tongue. She pushed back closest chair and indicated for him to sit down with a drunken nod, but he only crossed his arms over his chest. "God, stop milling around and just sit down already. Otherwise I'm gonna throw up."

Gojo hated being lectured, and then they added the smell of alcohol and fume. The only reason he was willing to sit next to Rachel was that she was your sister. Maybe she had one word in her pantry that would calm him down. 

"I'm a little surprised," Rachel said and was about to reach for the glass, but when her hand grasped the air, she glared angrily at Gojo who already had it in his hand. "Ya of all people should know how everything ends for us. Sooner or later, it would have happened. And still, ya're freaking out," Rach was silent for a second, but then she chuckled. "Or ya just upset that ya never got to get into her panties?"  

In a different situation, Gojo would have been embarrassed by such a question, or would have winched or foolishly guffawed, but Rachel's timing was wrong: if before this question his anger had simply broken his bones, now it broke his years of trained restraint. "Would you rather be torn apart or be deprived of wine?" Gojo stood up, and sniffing the wine that was in glass, immediately grimaced and poured it all down the sink. "You've got three more bottles in the fridge-"  

"God," mumbled Rachel and a feeling of disgust made her wrinkle her nose. "It's that serious?"

Gojo did not say a word. It was all too fragile and so intimate for him that he dared not even discuss it with himself, let alone trust a drunken and talkative interlocutor.

"Oh, forget it," waved Rachel's hand. "Even if ya were serious, it would never work," she said, and he almost gave in to the provocation: he had to bite his tongue, and the word 'why' tasted very bitter.

Rachel was silent, her hand tracing wood patterns on the table, her eyes dimming with every movement of her finger. For some reason a heavy weight fell on his soul: this was why he'd never liked serious conversation, and in another situation he would have left without bowing. So why did he feel that his soul could take a hundred more such weights if such a conversation concerned you? "Ya know, adoptee...," Rachel began suddenly and quietly. "She's always done that. She'll say at parting 'I'll be back soon' or 'see ya' like she's gone to get some fucking bread, and then she is just... She disappears. And then," Rachel's voice began to break, and it happened as easily as if spring's thin ice was breaking underfoot. "Then this little piece of shit comes home, and it's like nothing happened. She didn't disappear anywhere, and she's acting normal. And whether she's really dumb and doesn't get it, or whether she just expects us to act like nothing happened either, I-I dunno," her voice was on the verge of breaking, and while Rachel was emotional, she also had enough experience and courage in her to keep the tears from rolling down her face. "That's what makes ya different from us. Ya just haven't lived with her enough yet to get used to this kinda thing."

If Rachel had been a child, perhaps Gojo could take her in his arms and shake her, or start mimicking her, parodying the pathetic whimpering that was the most he could do. He had no idea how to soothe a grown person. Rachel sniffed her nose, walked over to the refrigerator, and there was another bottle in her hand. "Haven't you had enough already?" asked Gojo irritably, trying to get her to put the wine back with a glare.  

There was no trace of that momentary sadness left on Rachel's face - just a slight drunken blush. "Ya know, I thought we just accepted the idea that she disappears from time to time," she dipped her lips to the bottle, but immediately grumbled - she'd forgotten to open it. Rachel started fumbling through the drawers in search of a corkscrew. "But no. We've probably accepted the fact that one day she won't come back," the clatter of cutlery was followed by a 'crack' and Rachel finally took a couple of sips. When she turned around, she nearly choked on her wine - whereas his skin had always been white and almost glowing, now it was as pale as a dead man's. "Geez, I'm just kidding," she put her arm around him drunkenly - he didn't even move. "Don't ya worry about it. We all don't really sweat it because ever since she went missing, we kept going into the void. And ya know what? Nothing's ever changed there, never flipped. We're right back where we left off. Ya see what I'm getting at?"

The answer followed immediately. "She still in the void?" he asked, and how amazing it was how hope could change a man's voice.

"And she's still alive," Rachel nodded contentedly, nearly hitting her head on the nearby fridge. "I'm telling ya, ya could care less about her. She is more tenacious than any cockroach," she said and pulled the bottle to her mouth again.

Nothing was impossible for Gojo, but no matter how much strength you had, and even if you could swap the poles of the Earth, he couldn't stop worrying about you. Perhaps only when he could touch you again would he be able to get rid of the lead in his heart, and the very thought that it would be easier for him to give it to you made him shy and flush.

"Stop drinking," Rachel still didn't understand why he mumbled the words so embarrassedly, but there was no time to speculate - he tried to take the bottle from her, but only woke Rachel up to the drunken berserker in her. "Why can't you go a day without a bottle?"

"Fuck off," Rachel snarled and pulled the bottle toward her. "Ya spill my wine again, and I swear to God, I'll put ya on the very bottle you poured it out of."

You were sitting on the porch of the very hut where you'd been sheltered; it was hardly a porch, really - just a dilapidated step that was more often tripped over than climbed. People wandered languidly from side to side - maybe they were just stretching their bones, or maybe sitting in one place was more painful for them.

The wardens glimmered among the men, but they disappeared as quickly as they came into view. What kind of order were they keeping here? What was not allowed and what was allowed? After all, a few moments ago one man had nearly beaten another to death, and no one had come to separate them.

"Regeneration."

You didn't look at the bloody body lying there. No matter the outcome, it was all you could do for him now, though you were barely regenerating yourself. "You awake?" came Jonah's voice from behind you. "I don't mean to lecture you, but you really should get some rest."

You let his words pass your ears, and he, instead of leaving, sat down next to you. "Do ya have a cigarette?" you asked.

Jonah grinned good-naturedly. "Actually, this is one of our local currencies, but I can give you one as a new one."

He handed you a crumpled cigarette; it looked like it would break at the base if you touched it. "Thanks," you mumbled and gently wrapped your fingers around the filter. "And the lighter?"

"And here's where the trouble starts," Jonah said, pulling a lighter from his pocket. "Oxygen is in short supply here, so you'll have to be patient," he looked at you warningly, and you clamped the cigarette between your lips and leaned over to cover the lighter with your palms.

There was no time to count, so it was hard to say how long Jonah had been pulling the wheel-cross. Maybe fifteen minutes, maybe an hour, but there it was - the edge of the cigarette finally colored orange, and you took a long-awaited puff. "You're welcome," Jonah said courteously. "How's your nose? Sorry, we don't even have anything to fix it with."

"It's okay," you said, exhaling smoke. "It'll heal quickly enough."

Jonah nodded in your direction. "What happened to your cheeks?" he continued curiously.

"A bad trip to the beautician."

There was obvious bewilderment in his eyes. "Who is that?" he asked, squinting his eyes.

A chuckle escaped you, and you choked on the smoke trapped in your lungs and coughed. "Just a 21st-century acquaintance," you wheezed.

Bewilderment turned to complete incomprehension, and Jonah decided to tactfully change the subject. "What's that thing?" he nodded at your hand.

You scrolled through the phone in your hand, trying to ignore the keychain jiggling on it. How could you answer that question to avoid an hour-long lecture about future technology? You thought about it for a moment. What was important - the phone still had the date on it. "It's...," you drawled uncertainly. "This thing is the only thing that connects me to the place I came from," you said, shrugging confusedly.

"So it's very important to you, then?" asked Jonah, rubbing his hands together anxiously.

"Aren't ya up to something already?" 

"No, you'd just save that thing. Better to hide it altogether," Jonah suggested, and once again he looked so simple - minded and guileless that you had no choice but to nod in agreement. "Uh... Sorry, I couldn't find better clothes for you. If only I'd known," you looked around in confusion at the wide, stained T-shirt that had probably been white before, and the pants that were clearly not your size; you had to tear the sleeve off your uniform and make a makeshift belt so they wouldn't fall off every second. There were still no shoes - you still had on your heavy boots, but they weren't visible under the wide pants. "If I'd known, I would have tried to find you some more closed clothing."

You furrowed your eyebrows. You didn't see any reason to apologize - the clothes, though a few sizes larger than yours, were proof of the kindness of the man sitting next to you. "What are ya talking about?"

"Well, you... You're so, uh," he stammered and scratched the back of his head in embarrassment. His chapped lips tightened and loosened as if searching for words.

"Well, what am I like?" you interrogated in a playful tone. "Pretty? Charming? Smart?" you listed merrily, watching the man's head sink further and further into his shoulders. "Oh, no, don't tell me, I know!" you waved your palms and almost dropped your cigarette. "Peerless!"

"You're all scarred," he said on an exhalation, and the itch in the back of his neck began again. He had seen your hands, and they were like an old unwanted canvas that had been used to rage against more than once - all torn and scarred; if no one cared about a forgotten painting, you had an inept but dedicated restorer - your own body - that had covered them with whitish paint. Jonah glanced furtively at your throat, and it hurt him to swallow.

"Oh," you exclaimed quietly, examining your hands. The look was as if you were seeing them for the first time in a long time - surprised and excited. "Thanks for reminding me of that," you smiled and nodded to Jonah.

He didn't hear a hint of reproach or resentment in your words; you sounded as if you had thanked him sincerely. Jonah immediately stifled the incipient pity he felt for you and buried his desire for further questions about what had happened. "So... What are our next plans?"

You took another puff and looked up at the demon buildings. "Even the animals in the slaughterhouses are better cared for, but still, it's important to the demons to keep ya fresh- uh, alive. So... I can probably find provisions or at least something useful in there somewhere. Do ya have a backpack or something?"

"You're not gonna go there, are you?" stammered Jonah fearfully, trying to get you to look at him. "No one's come back from there. You don't have to go." 

"Not that we have an alternative," you snuffed out the cigarette butt on the porch, and,\ digging a hole in the sand with the toe of your boot, chucked it in there. 

***

The light at the top of the settlement was brighter the closer you got to it, and you had to squint every now and then to keep the annoying glare off your eyes. You could see the first building in sight - you had to lift your head to see the top of it, and even then. you could hardly see anything. The walls were dark, and as you approached, it resonated more and more; once you were near one of the walls, you noticed that it wasn't solid material at all - it was millions of tiny particles reaching for each other but never coming together. You leaned your hand on it - nothing. It didn't sink, it wasn't pushed away; it was like touching ordinary concrete.

There was a faint crack, and a dozen grains of sand broke off from the spot your hand had just touched; they immediately flew upward, and you couldn't see what had happened to them, but there was a chance that they had landed on one of the glowing stones that were circling the buildings.

You walked carefully around the building; there were even some semblances of windows, though they looked more like an architectural mockery. They were arranged in an unstructured and incongruous way - there were even corner ones and all different shapes, though the most appropriate word for such windows was 'shapeless'.

You lurked under one of those windows, listening for every possible rustle and knock. When you heard nothing, you peered inside. Empty. So empty that there weren't even any demons, just four bare walls.

You clung to the ledge and climbed into the room, keeping silent with every step. As you crossed the room, you pressed your ear to the door - no sound. Opening the door, you found yourself in a long corridor and involuntarily wrinkled with indignation - the building was obviously bigger inside than outside. Where to go now?

Figuring out a route in an unfamiliar place is a lost cause. You should have started by exploring the area, so once you'd picked a side, you just moved forward.

The floor felt solid under your feet, but you couldn't shake the annoying feeling that it was about to split apart. No matter how long you walked, you couldn't see any doors, but you couldn't see the end of the corridor either.

The feeling of a trick never left; it seemed that not only your palms were sweating, but your insides were sweating too, but what was strange was that you felt no observation, heard no footsteps behind you, no one's presence nearby. It was as if the danger was coming from your very surroundings and for good reason - the particles beneath your feet began to quiver restlessly. You tried to lift your foot and take a step, and though they didn't touch you, they refused to lag behind. You accelerated, and the more steps you took, the more sand grains enveloped you. You hopelessly tried to shake them off, but they only stuck more. When you started to run, you didn't try to look down - who knows, they might have crawled up your stomach.

A sharp pain went tangentially across your back, something almost crushed your heel; after that or at the same time, there was a deafening rumble behind you that made the grains of sand fall down, and they did it as sharply as if each of them weighed a ton.

When you turned around, you nearly slammed your nose into the wall, and at the same moment, to the left, a passage opened with a similar rumble, revealing another corridor. Instead of cursing the place, you exhaled a sigh of relief - so that was the feeling.

Still, what did the grains of sand want you to do? After all, they weren't doing bad or good, but they seemed to be warning you about shifting and opening passages, and anything that helped you navigate was useful except for the aching back that had nearly been broken by one of those walls. It was as if the closer you got to the shift, the more the particles enveloped you.

After a few thousand steps, you were beginning to despair - was it really as empty as it seemed at first glance? Even if there were doors, there was nothing but disappointment behind them - just bare walls and suddenly the smell of corpses. It was so strong that it was as if the bodies were still here. When you opened the first door, you involuntarily held your nose against the sudden and pungent odor, but you hardly paid attention to it at the tenth door. What was important was that none of these rooms had windows so you had to move forward, if not for provisions, then at least to get out of here.

Coming here without rest was your main mistake. However, how was it possible to rest with a rumbling stomach that had long ago digested itself, and with a throat so dry that it wanted to drain the river?  

You went into one of the rooms and threw off a ridiculous backpack that was made of patches, and it wasn't zipped up - it was pinned together with pins. You fluffed it up like a pillow, laid your head on it, and closed your eyes. Your hand, as if separated from your body, with a will of its own reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone and something jingled against it. You opened your eyes slowly, and the keychain was dangling on the phone, swaying quietly from side to side.

What happened to you? You did not let this thought come to you for so long, but when you lay down alone, your soul turned into a flame - not the one that warms you gently, but the one that seeks to burn you to the ground. Moreover, why did that flame jump from the soul to the internal organs, making vomiting come up to your throat?

You told him you'd be back in three days, and even then you weren't sure he'd wait. So what now? You exhaled. Your eyes widened, and your hand flew to your mouth - why was your exhalation so convulsive?

Hastily putting the phone away and shaking your head, you closed your eyes as if ordering sleep to come, but it never obeyed anyone. On the contrary, it was rather a dream that submitted people, and its loyal subordinates in the form of a soft cool pillow and a warm blanket forced them to abandon all their affairs.

On the other side of your closed eyes, he was a scorched brand - neither to erase, nor to stop thinking. For such a flighty man, it was surprisingly calm around him, but as it was, it wasn't even worth allowing the possibility of hoping he was still out there. Even if he didn't plan on sticking to the treaty anymore, he didn't seem like the kind of man who could wait.

Your mind was foggy; thoughts came one after another, but you couldn't catch any of them. Your body shook restlessly; the only sound was the rustle of a tattered backpack under your head.

GET UP!     

You jumped up as quickly as if someone had grabbed you by the shirt front in an importuning grip and pulled you hard. You gasped for air, looking around the room with a haggard stare. No one. "Oh, come on...," you began, trying to regain your breath. "Fuck ya, asshole," you mumbled into your hands, which you used to try to wipe the tiredness from your face. It was the unknown that pissed you off the most - was it Rei who had gotten into your mind in some elaborate way, or had you just lost your mind?

As you tried to come to your senses, it took you a moment to hear a low murmur somewhere far behind the door. You stood up and listened: it sounded like voices. You pulled on the doorknob and looked around; a violet glow appeared at the end of the corridor, just as if someone on Earth had turned on a light in a room. You moved quietly in that direction, the voices growing closer.

Once you were near the door, you leaned your back against the wall. You could hear the sounds of smirks, swear words, some rustling and grunting, and you could even hear someone smacking their lips as they took another puff. "Bite me," someone said, and even without seeing his face, you could tell from his voice the expressiveness of his grin. "Straight flush," something slapped - most likely, someone throwing cards on the table.

"You think I'm gonna believe you, you fucking cheat?" howled the other, and something rumbled. "Show me what's under the table!"

"How about you learn how to lose?" the first demon grinned. "I've got nothing, look," even from here, you could hear the second one breathing heavily behind the incomprehensible fuss. "Convinced? Now to the betting. Remember what you promised me?"

"Take that whore," the other demon snapped, and you heard footsteps approaching. Your blood started to boil, and this bubbling seemed to give you strength - as soon as his face appeared in the doorway, you grabbed his cheeks and squeezed them so hard that he didn't make a sound. Before he could even squeak, he took two dagger blows between the collarbones and crumbled into eternal oblivion.

All the while, a desperate whining had been growing in the room, both painful and pleading. Before you even looked into the room, you knew what kind of show you were in for.

Swallowing thick saliva, you appeared in the doorway. The demon was standing half-turned toward you, and in front of him, on her knees, was sitting... A girl? A woman? Behind the dirt, blood, and torture it was hard to tell her age. What she was being forced to do, even the most foolish could tell - even now, her forward head movements and squelching sounds mixed with muffled screams spoke for themselves. The pain in your body intensified, making you grin.

You always tried to keep your own rage in check, but at times like this, the roles were reversed. "Hey," you called out quietly and surreptitiously to the demon. He immediately turned his head, but instead of meeting his black eyes, you first examined his clothes and glanced at the naked girl, and only then met his frantic gaze. "Your jacket is, uh... well, ya know. It's cool."

***

It was small and peculiar, but still a jackpot. You were already digging through one of the wooden crates, and there were a number of different canned goods - corn, sardines, tuna, there were even a few jars of peaches. Perhaps the search would have gone a lot faster if it hadn't been for the annoying white noise in the background. The girl's crying, though it had changed to a quiet whimpers, was still horrible to your eardrums. You'd already set her down in a chair, pulled a jacket over her, and set the water bottle you'd found in front of her - it was all you could do for her now.

You looked in a couple more crates - besides water and canned goods, there was even sugar, tea, and to your great surprise and happiness, chocolate bars.

You removed the pins from your backpack and began to put provisions in there, pressing bottles and canned goods as tightly as possible; there was even room for a pack of sugar, a pack of salt, and a pack of tea and collected playing cards.

You zipped up your backpack, pricking your fingers a couple times in the process, and looked at the girl. She was hiding her battered face in her hands, and she was doing it like if she couldn't see anything, nothing could see her either. Her body was shuddering, and every twitch looked agonizing as if it wasn't happening of her own free will.

The girl never touched the water bottle. "Get up. Let's go," you didn't intend for the words you said to sound like an order - it came out spontaneously. The girl only flinched even more, but did nothing, only burrowed harder into her arms.

You stood up against her. "Why don't ya drink water? Don't ya wanna live?" you asked, and you hardly sounded soft and soothing; it was as if there was a threat in your words. She refused to look at you and you squatted down, pulled her hands away and grabbed her chin. "Either ya drink it or I'll start pouring it down your throat. Got it?"  

Her sticky eyelashes made it impossible to catch her frightened look, but her body language spoke for itself. She grasped the bottle with difficulty as if the water in it were not cool, but boiling. She seemed about to drop it. You grabbed the bottle with her, unscrewed the cap, and brought it to her lips. You saw that she took the first sip, though with effort.

"Regeneration."

You didn't know if she was feeling better, but her sips didn't look as painful as before. She was now drinking water greedily, but for you it felt like the liquid she had just absorbed was coming out of her body through her tears.

The girl finished her drink and her fingers immediately unclenched, causing the bottle to fall to the floor. "That's good. Now let's go," you mumbled and wrapped your arms around her slumped body.

You had to hand it to the girl - maybe she was only doing it for looks, but she was still dragging her feet. You checked every room you could find for a window; you didn't care what part or how high up you were just as long as you got out of here.

When such a room was found, the girl stopped moving. You had to check her pulse, but as it turned out, she was even still conscious - when you put two fingers to her neck, she nodded weakly.

You sat her down on the floor and looked at her bare feet then looked at your own, and without further ado began to take off your boots. What appeared before you was a picture of once white elastic bandages that were now a dirty red color. "Completely unsanitary. I can't offer ya anything better, though," and with these words you began to pull your heavy boots on her. Suddenly, the girl became hysterical.

"Don't touch me!" she shrieked, and tried to shove you off with her foot, either accidentally or deliberately, but the impact was weak either way. "Don't fucking touch me!" her voice got louder, and the number of times her fists hit the floor increased.

You tried to ignore it and catch one of her wriggling legs. When you succeeded, the girl made a sound as if she had been grabbed not by your hand, but by a snake that had followed her for a long time, and that it was not your nails but the snake's fangs that were sinking into her skin. She pitched forward with all her might and hit you in the face with a clumsy movement. "Get your hands off me!" the plea was no longer pitiful and desperate; the girl hissed as if trying to mimic an enemy. 

There was a slap in the room, and everything went quiet. The girl looked at you as she had just come to her senses and leaned a hand on her cheek, began rubbing the sore spot. "Relax. I'm just tryin' to shoe ya." 

Not without adventures, but you still laced up your boots on her. The girl, even if she looked in your direction, did so with distrust, and there was as much of it as fatigue allowed to show.

"That's it, let's go," you said, tying the laces on the last knot. You picked her up again and walked over to the window. "Better get ready."

"Relocate."

When you were already in front of the familiar hut, you gripped the girl's waist tighter. She was no longer twitching, no longer wobbling, but only slumping. You stepped inside as quietly and carefully as you could, the violet light from the lamp Jonah had brought with him was hitting your eyes. How long does a lamp like that last?

You met with dumbfounded looks, but even those quickly changed to pitying ones, but none of them dared to ask a question.

"Holy shit," a whisper came to you from the corner of the room, followed by a whistle. "She's back."

Without paying attention, you laid the girl against one of the far walls - away from the people present. You were about to say a few words to her, but as soon as her body touched the floor, she shrank into a ball. Pressing your lips together, you decided to leave her alone. You walked over to one of the shelves, pulling your backpack off your shoulders. "How long have I been gone?" you asked Jonah who had been looking at you curiously and anxiously for a minute now, having given up trying to pick the rotten boards off the floor. There was a pile of smoldering but unburned wood in front of him.

"I have no clue," Jonah drawled, scratching his chin. "We slept about twice. How are you doing? You okay?"

"As much as I can be in a place like this," you said, smiling. You were already sorting through the contents of your backpack - canned goods appeared on the shelf like a magical click, a few bottles of water, and as you pulled out the salt, there was a meaningful cough behind you. "What?" you asked in surprise, looking behind you, but none of them made eye contact with you. "I thought it would be less bland to eat all this with salt."

"That's not the point," Jonah muttered, looking down. "It's just that as one of their punishments. Demons make us eat a pack of salt."

"Oh," a sympathetic interjection came out of you, and you quickly put the salt away in one of the drawers. "Got it. I won't be carrying that stuff around anymore, then."

"Are you planning to go there again?" came a startled gasp from behind you, and you turned around. The man who'd punched you in the nose was already standing in front of you, but he wasn't looking at you - he was trying to see what you'd brought. "Damn it, there's even peaches in here!" stunned at this insolence, you didn't react at all to how deftly and quickly he grabbed the canned fruit. He immediately took out a rusty nail and started picking at the jar. The man did look funny - he looked more like an overgrown and ungroomed bush with a hat on than a human being. "Uh...," he mumbled. It was obvious how focused he was - the man even stuck out his tongue, for the jar yielded with difficulty and creaking. "Sorry about your nose."

You chuckled. "Is that the price of trust? A can of peaches."

"It's not just peaches!" exclaimed the man angrily, and even a little resentfully. He finally got rid of the stubborn lid, and in spite of the sharp edges, stuck his fingers inside, and the peach slice was immediately in his mouth. The way he chewed it might have seemed disgusting, the slurping sounds seeming to reach as far as the next huts. However, for some reason it only whetted your appetite more. "Ah yes, where are my manners," the man said, and after wiping his fingers from the candied syrup on his clothes, he held out his hand to you, and you shook it. "My name is Bjorn. And that bulky guy in the corner over there is Oter," he nodded his head toward the man. "He's not a talker, but he's very emotional, so you'd better stay away from him when he tries to say something. He might slap you in the face."

"Whatever ya say," you said, trying to wipe your sticky fingers. "I've got something else here," you stuck your hand into the backpack, and when you pulled it out, the man almost choked. "Cards."

Oter mumbled excitedly and happily, getting up from his seat. When he came closer, you handed him the deck of cards without question. He looked into your eyes in disbelief, looking so naïve and childlike that it was at odds with his size. You nodded and brought the deck forward, and he, gently clasping it in his fingers, finally took it. "Who are you, warrior?" murmured Bjorn reverently, but he clearly wasn't expecting you to answer, too mesmerized by the deck of ordinary cards.

Jonah rose to his feet, abandoning all attempts to light the fire. "So, guys," he began cheerfully, putting his arm around both of their shoulders. "Poker?"

Your head instantly turned to the girl, but she was lying so still that you wondered if she was even alive. "If ya wanna play poker, go outside," you said quietly.

"Why?" asked Bjorn.

"I'll tell ya later. That's it, go on," you said, and the men looked at each other. Jonah nodded toward the girl, and then they all left the hut without question.

You weren't going to push her or pester her with questions - she wasn't going to answer any of them. Not now, anyway. You walked over to her quietly and sat down at her feet, leaning against the wall, and glimpsed at her. The girl seemed to sense your gaze, otherwise, why would she squirm even more? "Can ya at least tell me your name?"

You didn't expect an answer, but this silence felt too heavy. She'd rather be sobbing or even crying herself to sleep than burying herself quietly in the filth she'd been forced to go through. "Like it or not, I'm gonna get ya out of here," you said quietly but firmly and licked your parched lips. There was a scolding outside, but it was neither threatening nor dangerous. It was more like the kind of cursing that cronies usually exchanged. You lifted your head and looked through the holes in the metal roof: no stars or clouds in the sky, just an all-consuming void that had no end or edge. "And then... Then I'll kill everyone who did this to ya. Ya could do it yourself, but it would be a good idea to survive first. So... just live, 'kay?"

The girl didn't answer, and you didn't know what else to say. You rose from your seat and headed for the exit, but immediately turned around when you heard a barely audible wheeze. "Nora," she whimpered weakly. "My name is Nora."

"Well...," you sounded confused, as you didn't expect her to find the courage for even one word this day. "Nice to meet ya, Nora," after which you still went outside.

The men were sitting here, right on the sand; the cards were already laid out, the canned goods opened, and each had a bottle of water. You could forgive them for such wastefulness, but only for today.

Jonah raised his head and looked at you, and you saw the glint in his clouded eyes for the first time. "I take it we need to look for more clothes?"

"Sorta."

"Not now!" Bjorn hissed at you, not taking his eyes off his cards. "We'll play the rest of the game, and then you can do whatever you want. Come on, play with us."

"I dunno how to play poker," you said, shrugging absent-mindedly.

"Well, that's not a problem, is it?" said Bjorn. "We'll teach you, sit down," he tugged at your shirt, and it was no longer an invitation, but a demand.

While you were sitting as comfortably as possible on the cold sand, time seemed to slow down around you. You tried desperately to make sense of all the things they were explaining to you, but you kept getting confused by the Full houses, Royal flashes, Straights, and at some point, all those words came together for you. Oter was always mooing something unintelligible - you could hear the threat, the jeer, the joy, the sadness. Jonah would put his arm around your shoulder and shake you a little when you started to realize something obvious, and Bjorn would shout curses in a foreign language. Maybe they weren't swear words, but it was hardly the tone to praise a man. The atmosphere was as if you had not bottled water but apple cider, and instead of sardines, you had caviar sandwiches or even ordinary chips, even if they were in your least favorite flavor.

In the midst of this bustle you made a promise, albeit to yourself: to take these people out to where the star warms the horizon through the shroud of ozone.

[March 1, 2020; 7:01 pm; Tokyo Prefecture, Tokyo, Cafe Q]

"There you are," Mei-Mei purred, taking a seat at the table. "I haven't heard from you in a while," her voice was quiet, flirtatious and soothing at the same time, but the café was so deserted that Gojo could easily hear everything she was saying.

"Work," he replied briefly, without bestowing any greeting on her - he didn't even glance in her direction.

"I'm not gonna take up a lot of your time," Mei-Mei rolled her eyes. "I just want my share," Gojo finally looked at her over his glasses, and his eyes read the usual nonchalance, but there was something else lurking behind it as well. She shrugged. "The girl's dead," she barely said the words before she realized what lurked behind his supposed levity. A threat.

Gojo's finger was rubbing the edge of the napkin that lay on the table. "First of all," he began calmly. "She's not dead. Second, forget everything I told you about the treaty, and third, Mei-Mei, listen. This is the most important thing," he raised his index finger upward, as if he didn't realize that all her attention was already on him. "You don't look good in red lipstick. So wipe it off," he pushed the napkin toward her with the palm of his hand, remembering to smile sweetly.

Mei-Mei, smiling back, irritably crumpled the napkin. "If you want me to selectively lose my memory, it's not free."

"I didn't think you'd say it any other way," Gojo crossed his arms over his chest and lowered his head, trying to burrow into the collar of his uniform, completely oblivious to the fact that he was now wearing a shirt. "Just tell me how much you want."

"As much as they offered you," Mei-Mei replied instantly, and began coquettishly twirling a curl on her finger. "I'm not much interested in resurrection, though. Let me put it this way. I'll be satisfied with ten times the amount you paid me for a letter of recommendation to your students."

He didn't think over his answer for a second. "Okay," taking advantage of either the opportunity or her good mood, he added: "It'll be even better if you forget the way to their house."

"Fifteen times as much, then."

"Getting greedier every year," grinned Gojo at the thought that even the devil could be negotiated with. "Fine."

"God," she exhaled, and reached for his cheek; he immediately pulled away, leaning back in his chair. "I couldn't even imagine in my mind that you could ever look this pathetic."

"Mei-Mei," his voice remained as soft as a feather, but even that could make a human choke. "You're only still alive because I respect you as a colleague."

"Come on, don't be rude. I know how rude you can be, though. I don't even mind," she giggled, and without waiting for him to make at least one of his usual backhanded vulgar jokes, she sighed and mirrored his pose. "Anyway, I've been offered a job abroad anyway. I'm expecting the money within the week."

"What if I transfer them in eight days?" asked Gojo, and there was a distinct sneer in his voice.

"I don't know," Mei-Mei drawled, tapping a finger on her chin. "Does her big brother know why you stayed by her side in the first place?" she whispered conspiratorially, moving closer to him.

"You win," he threw his hands up in the air like a captured man. "Well, I hope we have a deal."

"The sweetest deal of my life," Mei-Mei chirped, rising from her chair. "But it might be even sweeter if you celebrated it with me," she hinted, expecting him to get up now, but he didn't move. She got the impression that he had missed her words altogether. This caused Mei-Mei to laugh uncontrollably. "Though, you know, I liked you better when you didn't have a heart. Okay, I hope to see you again," she said, and fluttered out of the café like a bird.

"I hope not," he exhaled quietly under his breath.

You'll be back, Gojo knew that for sure; all he needed to hold on to that thought was a few reassuring words from your sister. He didn't need to reach into the depths of his own soul to realize that you could handle this on your own, but if he had the slightest chance of keeping you safe, and especially if the price was money, he would gladly part with it. 

You were entering the hut in your own way, and if there had been a door, you'd probably have kicked it open. You could barely fit everything in your hands, but the only thing that was trying to slip out were the windbreakers you'd gotten. "Here I am!"

"Hey," Jonah responded, trying to make tea in the cold water. "Where did you get this?" he asked dazedly, looking at the clothes in your hands.

"We can sell that for a couple of packs of cigarettes!" exclaimed Bjorn hoarsely, quitting pounding the nails into the board. "Maybe even three."

"Actually, I didn't bring these for sale," you said, wrinkling your nose. "Ya'll be coughing your lungs out soon, so ya'd better put it on yourself," you turned to Bjorn and tossed him one of the windbreakers; you doubted you wouldn't see it tomorrow. "I found this place in the last building. I had to pinch myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Honestly, I still can't believe it!" someone behind you pinched your shoulder hard, and you shuddered, grasping at the sore spot.

"Oter!" the men exclaimed in a chorus of indignation, and behind you there was a resentful grunting. You glanced over your shoulder at Oter; he sat down in the corner next to Bjorn like a guilty child.

"Let me help you," Jonah said, coming over to you and taking some of your things. He set them down on the floor, and Bjorn jumped up and started going through them at once - in addition to the jackets, there was thread and a needle, matches, a couple of plates with spoons and forks, a bar of soap and a tube of ointment.

"What about food?" grumbled Bjorn sadly, continuing to rummage through things.

"You always only think with your stomach?" asked Jonah indignantly, and began sorting through the shelves and drawers you had found, trying to establish some order.

"A natural need," Bjorn muttered under his breath and immediately went back to hammering nails into the wood.

You walked over to Jonah and shove him uncertainly with your shoulder. He looked at you questioningly, and you nodded your head at the girl lying in the corner. "How's Nora?" you asked in a whisper.

Jonah spoke in a low voice too. "Still not talking. She ate well today, though."

"Not bad," you clapped your hands approvingly, pleased with at least some progress.

You silently continued to put everything in its place, occasionally wondering where to put this or that thing. "You know," Jonah began quietly. "We had nothing to do here before you at all. Just sat in corners. Can't say that's a bad thing," the man chuckled nervously. "Because the ones who did get taken away by demons, we never saw again. And with you here...," he twirled a spool of thread in his hands and tossed it into the air, catching it deftly. "We can do at least some human things."

"It's just threads, Jonah," you tried to guffaw and immediately changed the subject. "I'm going in there again now. There's so much more there. I only caught a glimpse, but there was even climbing gear lying around."

"What do you think," Jonah began and was quiet for a moment. "What are these things?"

You faltered - you didn't feel like answering a question like that directly. "I think ya know."

"Yeah..." sighed Jonah, and the bar of soap he was trying to place on one of the shelves suddenly felt in his hand like a lump of all the souls that had died here - it became incredibly hard to hold.

"Anyway, they don't need these things anymore. But we do," you said firmly, taking the soap from his hanging hand and placing it on the shelf.

Jonah wasn't surprised at the cynicism - others didn't survive in places like this, he'd seen it more than once. "Why don't you take a break? One guy in the hut next door has a guitar. I could say we'll sit by the fire, but that's unlikely," he grinned sadly. "So, more like a handful of smoke-smelling wood."

"No, ya go ahead. Try to talk to Nora, It might be good for her," you said, but there wasn't much hope. Still, the attempt would be deliberately unsuccessful if nothing was done. "I'm gotta go, though. I'll see ya around."

"Relocate."

"Fucking dark wizard," Bjorn muttered as your silhouette disappeared from their sight, for which he received a hard poke in the shoulder and an angry mooing from Oter.

next ⊳

[bluxb3rry]

❝𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦!❞↳෴੭˚ ༘♡·˚₊˚ˑ༄ؘ 💜

Hyunjin x male reader! He/him pronouns! English is not my frist language! More angst? idk ── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

In a world were only Kings and Queens rule, the money its the most important thing. Who has it, wins and who doesn’t, dies.

Thats what his father always told him, when he was just a little boy and inocent, afraid of the oh so called "real world", he was though how to steal and act, how to make People see him with pity only to steal their bread.

-Y/N, never try to take orders from someone else, only from me even if im dead-

His father was the reason he still steals, his father was the reason of why he fought, he stold, he ran and he got hurt in his name.

So, it was only fair to blame him in this situation.

-Y/N L/N, its funny seeing you like this right now, you promised to kill every single one of us by now, remeber?-one of the guards told him, while he was in the floor with blood coming out of his mouth.

-What a piece of shit, i wonder why that prince wants you still alive, you should die by now-

-fuck you-Y/N said

Then everything turned black.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

When he opened his eyes again, he felt tired and pain all over his body, looking at the ceiling and his gold details, with also a big painting of clouds in it. Already knowing where he was he just looked around, trying to find the window thats its hopefully open. He sat slowly in the bed, seeing his naked body with bandages and violet spots, when he touched them he felt more pain.

The door opened

-Y/n!-he heard an angelic voice, then he felt hands in his chest and how he was slowly being lay down to the bed again-you need to rest! stop trying to escape for once

-trying? i always escaped before you watched me again-he said smiling

-yeah well, you look worse now, you took longer to wake up-the male said, his long black hair being tied up while he looked at him.

-Hyunjin, i can't stay-

-but you can! you are safer in here, you have food, a room, warm water-he sighed-why do you always have to go and keep stealing?

Hyunjin turn away, looking for the food he brought in for him, bring in it more closer.

-my dad didn't like this style of living, you know that-he was interrupted by a biscuit in his mouth

-you say that every-fucking-time, im tired of that you know?-he started cutting the food, knowing that Y/n couldn't move his own arms-i...i miss having you here, being with you

-stop-

Hyungjin felt your hands in his own, but didn't try to look

-you know, even if you are the one with power, they would kill you the moment they see you with me, if not for the gender is gonna be for who i am-

-i told you we could escape-

-i don't want you to live like me-

-but you just said!-Hyunjin shouted, but stopped, noticing how close you both were.

-i know...but we just can't, we aren't made for each other-Y/N ate a little bit more, and then stand up.

-you don't even kiss me anymore-Hyunjin looked at him-why? you can't even do that? you can't give me that satisfaction?

-if i do it, im afraid i won't be able to go-

-Then do it-Hyunjin got closer to you-kiss me, stay here, no one has to know, it can be our secret-

-if i stay, i could love you, but you would have to be with some lady to not make it that obvious, to have that heritage your father oh so wants-you looked at him-one way or the other we can't be happy

Silence took place, Hyunjin trying to think in another way while Y/N was suprised he didn't escaped yet.

-Just for this day, please-Hyunjin pleaded, holding your hands

-if i go tomorrow, its gonna be worse for you-

-just...-he sighed-let me have this joy for one day, let me imagine that we live in a world where you didn't have to live like this for some code, a world we are not gonna be hated for our love, a world were i can wake up and have you on my side-

-it's just gonna be a dream, love-

-well, let me dream-he kissed him

and you accept it

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

You were both kids when you met eatch other, he escaped from his castle with tears in his eyes and you found him, you hugged him while saying that "pretty people should not cry!" and made him laugh.

You played like kids, he remebers how he got all dirty, his white clothes being a big contrast with the dirt and your own clothes, in his eyes you were a free spirit that liked to do anything, he loved that form you, didn't even care that you were a boy.

After he came back from outside (not before a kiss in the cheeck as a goodbye from you) he told everything to his parents, his dad said he was just a kid and no boys could have such feelings, that he was just confused. When he cried to his mother and while she was hugging him, she told him "love is different for everyone, if you like that boy, then i guess is okay"

He escaped almost all days from the castle to look at you, to find you, it looked like everytime he find you, you changed a little bit more.

So, after some years, when you both stopped being kids and he knew everything you did, he said everything, his feelings, his worries, everything. All under the moon and stars.

You kissed him that day, you hugged him and said the same to him, but also saying the one thing he already knew.

"in a world like this, all we can wish is just gonna be a dream Hyunjin"

"then, let me sleep and dream it"

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

Hyunjin woke up the next day, feeling the slight pain in his hips, and he touched his neck that was full of love marks, he smiled and then looked beside him, hoping to see you.

But the bed was to cold.

Your warmt wasn't even there, his smile dissapeard and then he looked the window, seeing it all open. He looked at the room, not seeing anytrace from you.

Then he looked at the little paper that was in the pillow beside him, were your head rested.

"i love you"

He laughed, he laughed and hide his face with his hands, slowly feeling the tears appearing and his laughs turning into sobbs while.

He just woke up from his dream after all.

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

[cafecitoeddie]

im from el salvador. i wasn't born here (i was almost born in mexico actually, since my mom tried to walk her way into the us) and it wasn't until my father was able to gather up some money and put in for our papers that allowed us to travel to the us via this big fancy plane. i was a few months shy of six years old. i've been here ever since going back every few years when my mother was still alive. she was able to get her citizenship with hard work and dedication but it took her YEARS to do so. she in turn gave me my citizenship, by way of my passport. i've only recently found this out and i need to keep everything up to date or else.. well i don't want to know what could happen.

but.. do you know how shitty it feels for trump to consistently talk shit about anyone from el salvador over and over again and people that look like me and come from the same upbringing as me? el salvador and its people live rent free in his mind and he willingly forgets the us having a unique hand in every single one of el salvadors problems in the 60s/70s/80s to the point of cultural ruin. gangs in la exist because of the us destroying el salvador. gangs in el salvador only existed because of the us destroying el salvador.

im tired of him. im so fucking tired. and im scared. and i shouldn't fucking have to be scared of an election but here we are....

[sots-nxck]

genuinely thank you so much for your nellis sfms. this fandom has been so small for a long while now, so creators like you really are what keep everything afloat. even though you may not post frequently per se, your work is so amazing and i look forward to every single one of your posts!! i wish i could show appreciation in other ways than just liking and reblogging! guess that’s why im writing this long paragraph haha.. again, thank you so much!!! also… what are some of your headcanons for nellis, or the survivors in general? :D

T^T this brightened my day oml ty <33 The fact the fandom is so small is what got me into figuring out SFM in the first place and I appreciate all nellis creators out there helping keep this ship alive! <3 Thank you for all the love! I'm actually thinking of opening up commissions for anyone who's interested and wants to support further, but I still have to think of pricing and make the post :') Honestly I'd probably need a whole post of its own to go over my nellis head cannons so I'll stick to a some character ones I have. Nick: It's cliché but he definitely had a really shitty childhood, a single child to absent parents, drug addiction, etc. He had trust issues and pushes everyone away but he's secretly a romantic when he actually loves someone. Poor guy is just touch starved. He's also bisexual as sin. Ellis: Idk why but I always assumed Ellis's dad was abusive/ was taken away when he was young (mainly because it's the only person Ellis never mentions in game so he was either a bad part of his life or not there at all). He was raised by his mother and grandfather who got him into old rock music and cars (midnight riders and jimmy gibs) His first crush was one of keith's guy friends but he never told anyone and everyone he knows still thinks he's straight. Rochelle: She isn't super close with any of her family so the 3 other survivors mean the world to her. She lived with her boyfriend, Jacob, before the infection and is very career motivated resulting in several arguments about their future. Their rocky relationship is also why she moves her interest to Francis (another ship I have) x) Coach: He's 100% a family man. The kind to invite his friends and family over for Sunday barbecues and drinks. He falls into the father figure roll of the survivor group because of his want to be an actual father. He lost his wife to illness after 10 years together and never remarried or had children because of her inability to conceive.

[crispy0nion]

takes a deep breath. ik it hasn't even been a day but we need to talk about the umbrella academy season 4. obviously spoilers ahead. and a long, long fucking post full of complaints.

this season got me shinji chairing so hard. what the fuck. six episodes that last barely an hour each and all for THAT ending? don't get me wrong, the ending itself is... not the worst possible outcome, ig, but like. plot holes so big i can fit five's ego in there and still have spare space.

yeah, let's start from there. what the fuck was that? a half-assed five/lila romance was the last thing we needed. call me a hater, tell me i don't know how to appreciate complex stories, idc. that sucked ass. not only is it creepy in so many ways, but it also brought absolutely NOTHING to the story. "oh but if that didn't happen then five wouldn't have accidentally wandered into the station's coffee shop and met himself" I DON'T GIVE A SHIT!!!! IT COULD'VE HAPPENED IN SO MANY DIFFERENT WAYS!!!!!! AND FIVE KNOWS BETTER THAN TO THROW HANDS WITH HIS BROTHER OVER A GIRL WHILE THE REST OF THEIR SIBLINGS ARE FIGHTING THE DAMN BLOB OF DEATH!!!

moving on ig. i don't like how allison's past actions seemed to be simply forgotten. i know they acknowledge it a couple times and that it's been six years, but lord almighty she assaulted luther, got him killed, and betrayed her entire family for a father that never cared about any of them. i don't think i could forgive that so easily (i'm looking at you klaus).

about the plot holes. first off, i would've appreciated even just a slight explanation of what the fuck reginald and abigail are? are they aliens? are they robots? are they alien robots? also, side note, what the fuck did reginald even do to grace atp? did he create a robot in the image of a human lady or did he turn the human lady into a robot???? and back to abigail for a moment: ?????????? and also the obsidian hotel????? AMERICA EXPLAIN. EXPLAIN

more plot holes: the solution to the cleanse problem. five said that the only way to fix the timelines is to let the cleanse happen, aka absorb them, so that the marigold inside them is destroyed since that's what split the timelines, no? and they made a big deal out of lila leaving because they needed all of the marigold holders to partake in this. except that YOU EIGHT IDIOTS ARE NOT ALL THE OCTOBER 1ST KIDS IN THE WORLD. THERE'S MORE, THAT WAS LIKE 43 WOMEN WHO GAVE BIRTH YOU DUMB FUCKING CUNTS. WHAT ABOUT THE OTHER 35 KIDS. uhm. sorry about that. moving on.

did not like how jennifer's character was treated at all. no time to develop, no time to get us to know her. straight to the blob of death without even explaining what was going on. how did the durango end up in her body? who even created that anyways? how did she end up in a damn fucking giant squid? why was she talking about the cleanse? what the fuck? listen im sure the comics explain this and ik this show is supposed to be a bit... confusing and nonsensical, but this is info you can't just leave out. feels like lazy writing.

and how the fuck did the cleanse cult even know that this nonesense that a kid coming out of a squid was blabbering about was connected to them having dreams of other timelines? how the fuck did jean and gene know? what?

yk what, im also gonna throw in some more personal points of view in here. i did not understand a single thing about the timeline/universe/whatever they ended up in at the end of s3. is it a new universe? if so, why is everything the same and WHY is the timeline still fucked? and where's the academy in this timeline? does it not exist? why? why and how is abigail still alive? was she even dead in s1, on the moon? or was that a cryo capsule? if so, why keep her there?

and there's more folks! why did the timeline train not stop at lila and five's stop? that was random and never explained, and feels like lazy writing, again. or like an excuse to get a specific two people to mingle just to create an unnecessary and unwanted love triangle? perchance?

lastly, how can claire and lila and diego's children still exist if their parents were erased from existence? and since they still exist but their parents never did, how does it work? do lila's parents just look after these random kids? without reason? wouldn't not having existing parents at all create legal problems?

overall, i have a lot of issues with this season. it feels extremely rushed, and honestly quite boring in comparison to the other three. and the lack of explanations makes it so hard to enjoy because i'm busy being confused. im not so mad about the ending, i kinda saw it coming (my choice was between they all die or they get stuck in a loop), and I don't think it's necessarily a bad ending for a story like this one. i am a bit sad, yes, and i will miss these characters and regret the fact that they didn't get the lives they deserved, but i think it's an ok ending. not the best, but ok. but the rest of the season? ass. yet another show absolutely ruined by netflix's inability to see past money and actually produce a good ending instead of rushing things. peace ✌️

[unicornsaures]

yapping about the outsiders x amrev

Okay so first off, not replacing any characters, obviously. Im thinking the aides are their own seperate little group that just hang around one another. Not an actual gang like the shepard gang but more how the main characters run; just a group thats independent, but willing to stick up for one another. Ive decided that if i ever do something with this god forsaken AU its genuinely just gonna be mostly seperate from the main plot because none of the aides themselves would be socs and so the plot wouldnt even be relevant until the very end.(I have been thinking of making Lafayette a soc or something. Just for the fuck of it to test some limits to hamilton, laurens, and laf's friendship with the whole bob thing ehe!)

But for the sake of this AU, theyre all aged into their 20s except for Washington. Its just easier than having 60 year olds street fighting.

Right, so characters! I havent thought much on other aides BUT i have thought VERY heavily on Laurens and Hamilton, obviously. So, starting with Laurens. Hes literally the same. Hes just as impulsive as he is during his time period if not worse. Hes given more opportunities to fight and he takes every. single. one. I would say hes similar to Dally but really he isnt. He'll get in a fistfight every week or so but nothing serious enough he ends up in jail. His relationship with HL is kind if rocky, too. They moved from SC to fucking oklahoma and John is not too happy about the move, for one, and his father isnt happy that Laurens turned into a 'hood.' Mainly, he just wont sleep at his own house. He'll crash at Meade's place or maybe Hamilton's run down, abandoned little house if he has to. HL isnt abusive or anything he just doesnt like living with so many siblings while his father goes on and on about how hes a bad influence. Not helping that he has a new bruise or cut every time he vists but i digress, John is basically a 'watered down' dally.

Righttt, Hamilton! Yeah, born in NYC, mom died, got too expensive, so he moved to good ol Oklahoma without his dad. I may just say he works at DX with Soda and whatnot because while the aides arent needed for the plot, i want them to feel a lil somethin somethin when everything goes down in the book and having a relation to both Soda and Steve would at least make Hamilton feel a bit bad and maybe even convince him to fight in the rumble at the end. Laurens and him arent really officially dating either. Theyre technically exclusive, but they never really talked about it and kind of just say theyre there to keep each other in check. Neither of them really want to confront any of their emotions towards anything so they settle for hamilton lovingly scolding laurens every time he gets in a fight and sharing 'no homo' kisses. Yeah and he lives in this run down house that he doesnt pay for and he has to drop by Meade's place whenever cops come searching for anyone living in there because i need him to be a little bit pathetic.

The rest of the aides are primarily undecided, if im being honest. Meade's parents are still alive from what I know and the other aides either stay at their own house or crash at Meade's, but Laurens is usually taking up the couch on most nights as does Hamilton. Most of the other aides arent big fighters really, theyre just trying to make it through college/day to day jobs. Washington kind of watches over all of them, like an unofficial father to their lil gang. They just hang around him and he frequently scolds them all for misbehaving. Hes like darry but older i guess. (Hes like, in his late 40's in this AU.)

Oh, and kinloch is there because i said so! If anything, he gives me major soc vibes and i primarily think he is why Laurens has such a knack for starting fights with socs for no reason. They were some weird ass situationship and they had an unofficial breakup that Laurens is still extremely salty over. Francis totally went for his neck during the rumble btw and they hate each other and laurens still tries to start fights with him whenever he sees him.

Though, Lafayette is also pretty undecided. I want him to be a greaser but at the same time i think him being a soc would test the limits of him and laurens' friendship while also he and hamilton's friendship. Laurens because obviously, francis. Hamilton because he saw how the socs affected soda, steve, etc and he feels bad for them, but also Lafayette would be dead set that Johnny is a murderer because he needs to stick up for the socs to stay loyal.

Now lets talk about the rumble! I think only some of the aides would get involved, really. Hamilton would because he saw how johnny affected steve and soda, Laurens because he just wants to fight, and the two dragged along Tilghman and Harrison because theyre strong enough to do some genuine damage. The rest of them just dont want to be involved in all of that and think its easier to just not get hurt.(Meade tags along but stands off to the side just to make sure no one gets seriously injured. He has change ready for a pay phone in case he needs to call up washington.)

Now, what i think would be interesting is their reaction to Dally's death. Im saying Laurens wouldve heard his name, as would all of the greasers, really. So their entire gang would know his name, but im mainly thinking about Laurens for this one because id like to think that he kind of looked up to him in some fucked up way? Not really looked up to, but more so respected. I feel like with Ham telling him about how Soda and Steve reacted and how they act at the DX afterwards would really fuck with him too and id like to think hed drop by the curtis house or some shit to say that he thought dally was a cool guy or something.

Yeah, anyway this is all pretty rough in terms of what the fuck im yapping about i just spat out every word that came to mind.

[gaslightgatekeepgirlbosscombat]

Group H, Round 4, Poll 1:

Propaganda under the cut

Odysseus

literally the EPITOME of these. ive read the odyssey and i will tell u it is literally just him making up a new elaborate fake identity for like every single person he meets. even his own father and wife 😭😭 just for funsies or what idek. he literally does not tell anyone anything gatekeeping any and every gifts + knowledge the gods are given. im not joking his story is basically 90% this malewife just gaslighting people and gatekeeping stuff the gods tell him AND FINALLY FOR THE GIRLBOSS he sees the guys whove been essentially harassing his wife for like 10 years and just??? shoots all of them with arrows?? and he does it in STYLE too he comes as a beggar then the suitors r all trying to use odysseus's bow (they cant) and hes like oh i may just be a beggar but. let me try. and then uses it and instantly shoots someone in the head GIRLBOSS

Medea

Her husband divorced her so to get back at him she burned his new bride alive, murdered her own children and casually escaped justice in a chariot pulled by dragons and *made from the sun.* She is iconic and I love her.

propaganda from @apollosgiftofprophecy

Princess with Phenomenal Cosmic Powers, granddaughter of the Titan of the Sun, Helios, and Priestess of Hecate, the literal Goddess of MagicStarts out a classic fairy tale (with a few murders in the mix for flavor)Jason (the man/husband she sacrificed EVERYTHING for) thought it would be totally alright to cheat on his sorceress wife with some princess and - double whammy - he planned to keep Medea as his mistress after he married this random princess!When she confronts him, he shows his true colors as a world-class bastard and she reminds him that he's only still alive, and only completed his quest for the Golden Fleece, because of her. (WHICH IS TRUE)To get back at him, Medea orchestrates the death of said princess (and indirectly the king's too, whoopsies :) ) by sending a beautiful dress for her that was laced with poison that caused the princess to catch on fire, and also killed whoever touched her (the king)She then murders her and Jason's two kids (after some emotional dilemma because she actually cares about them while Jason Does Not) and exits the kingdom In Style - how? Like this:Rises into the air on a golden chariot pulled by dragons given to her by Helios When Jason says the gods with avenge him, she tells him "lol, good luck with that oathbreaker!" and flies off into the night Like A Bossa little more context here: Jason's godly patron was Hera, the literal goddess of family and marriage. And he was going to abandon his children and break his vows to Medea.Also, she never is punished for any of this stuff, meaning her actions have the (reluctant :) always good to be morally gray) approval of the gods. She's one of the only nuanced female characters in Greek Mythology, and by god is she interestingThis, my friends, is why Medea is the ultimate Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss.