#sometimes i wonder if there was any way things could've turned out differently or if they were doomed from the moment claudia poisoned tom

[claudiadpdl]

do yall think madeleine is going to feel guilty when she and claudia are sentenced to death/about to be killed because she was the one that suggested they go see louis one last time, or do you think they were always doomed to die because armand was going to have them killed regardless of whether or not they went to see louis again. im flinging myself off a building btw.

[witches-dream]

Imagine you have a son, and he's growing very disciplined, which is good, but he's very introverted, not really in a shut-in kinda way, he just seems very unapproachable to people, and he is, because he's just so serious all the time. Like you look at him and, yeah, he's gonna be great warrior, but you also wish that he could. Socialize a little?

So your son grows up and leaves to fulfill some kinda grand goal and you're like "ok, son", still kinda worried about him, but he's not your baby anymore, he can do what he wants. So he leaves and after a few days you hear this earth-shattering lightning strike, no storm before or after or anything, everybody is wondering what happened and if you'll all die soon. Nothing happens past that, actually, it feels strangely peaceful. So after a few days your son comes back and he doesn't look any different, but he has definitely changed in like a week or two that he was gone. So he says "father, I have defeated the black and white dragons". You're kinda shocked, but that explains the lightning strike and how everything went quiet after it, and your son is not one to lie, so you you say "oh, for real? neat". "They are not going to bother anyone anymore." Your son says in a solemn tone. Later, everyone celebrates but he doesn't come. You knock into his room, and, even through a closed door, you can feel some sort of power, warmth radiating from it. He opens the door and his sword looks... Different. First of all, it's much bigger. It has a completely different shape. And there's this... Purple gem on its handle and it's glowing brightly. Nobody in this village could've forged such an otherworldly masterpiece. So you ask "got a new sword, son?" He says "Yeah. It's a Soul Jam, actually." "A Soul Jam? Never heard of it." "I will tell you later."

He reluctantly agrees to join the celebration, but after a few weeks he leaves the village. He starts building a citadel, and walling off the coast of the Licorice Sea. People are already calling him Your Majesty, though he's slow on accepting that title. Many decades pass and you're so old you can't get out of the house on your own anymore. Your son visits and he looks the exact same as when he left. He takes care of you, with the same cold face he's always had, though his hands are warm and him just being there warms your heart. You strain your old and tired vocal cords to utter "I'm proud of you, son." He's silent, but he nods, and his long hair obscures his face, but you can imagine he's happy to hear that.

It's after you die that he accepts the throne, and the title of King that was decided by the people whose respect for him towered the mountains. And, as it turns out, your son is immortal now. And, through the years, through the decades and centuries and even millennia, he takes the utmost care of all his subordinates, he remembers every face of his every warrior and he etches out their names and immortalizes them and prays to them each day.

Your son does many great things, many heroic deeds. He defends the kingdom he founded with a resolution of a true warrior. Your son made friends. There's only four of them, they are heroes of their own lands just like him, so they're busy most of the time, but they go on adventures and they have fun once a couple of centuries. Your son also makes many mistakes, says things he deeply regrets. He has a son, and, even being thousands of years old, he still thinks of you and wishes he could be even half as great a father as you were.

Maybe sometimes your son wishes you were around to lend a word of advice, or to say "I'm proud of you" one more time. Other times, he's ashamed of a thought that you might be out there somewhere, watching him from the heavens and shaking your head in disapproval. You have no way of telling him you love him either way, with all his virtues and all his vices alike. What matters is that, in the end, your son overcomes all adversities and becomes a better person. He was given a unique chance in life: to have infinite time to learn, and he uses all that time to become a better person.

You have no regrets. You can rest peacefully, knowing you have raised a hero.

[bugs1nmybrain]

YESSSS PLSSSS l x reader smut 🙏 maybe they work together or smth and it gets a little frisky??

Admittedly, I don't know the logistics of being a detective outside of Death Note and crime documentaries, and I can't picture my self in that occupation. However, I like thinking of the idea of L and the reader sitting alongside in each other's company while he works on his cases via his computer, and the reader working on something else such as college homework. So I'll work with that ;).

Distraction

Minors Do Not Interact

Warnings: Heteronormative sex and relationship, L uses pet names like "my love" and "darling," desk sex, established relationship, reader is neurodivergent-coded, reader is a college student, reader is heavier than L, nipple/breast play, L uses clinical terms during sex, oral (fem-receiving), unprotected sex

L could not for the life of him keep his eyes off of you.

He was slightly confused, considering that today wasn't different from any other day. You sat next to him on your computer, doing work for your classes, and he worked on his cases, at least anything that wouldn't expose too much information around you.

Maybe it was that ridiculous wet dream he had of you last night. L doesn't sleep nearly as much as others. Not only did he see it as a wedge in his schedule, but his dreams sometimes distracted him because of his analytical perspective on everything. Sometimes he dreamt of his parents, sometimes about the cruelty of his job, and other times...you.

You weren't helping the situation. Of course you had to choose to wear a very form fitting outfit today. L almost had an issue with how revealing your outfit was, but he knew he shouldn't dictate things like that. But if anyone else looked at you the way he was right now, he wouldn't be happy.

Your shirt practically hugged your torso, giving L a perfect view of the shape of your breasts. Your shorts were also, indeed, short, showing off your gorgeous thighs and their beautiful complexion.

It wasn't only your body, though. L wasn't that shallow. It was also the cutest expression you made while you focused on your homework. How you'd scrunch your face when you didn't quite understand something. Your hair fell in your face and you'd tuck it behind to see your notes better, but then it would just fall back in your face. Even the way you sipped on your drink was turning him on. He felt animalistic.

L wasn't the type to get lost in temptation like this. Sure he indulged in any sweets he wished without the consideration of the toll it would take on his body. And yes, he'd take some almost impulsive, bold decisions when he was determined to take a step further in an investigation. Perhaps he was someone who was swayed by temptation, now that he thought about it.

"L?"

Oh god. Now your voice.

"What is it, love?"

The most insignificant terms of endearment always made you blush or giggle. And it was adorable to him.

"I..um..I'm having a bit of trouble with this part of my homework. Would it..? I don't mean to pry for answers, but-"

"No need to apologize. What is it you're confused about?"

L took this opportunity to move his rolling chair directly next to yours. He leaned over your shoulder, peaking at the laptop in front of you. Lucky for him, he now had a wonderful view of your breasts.

You perked up at his close proximity, and L could've sworn he saw you squirm a bit.

"I'm having trouble with using Excel for the Goodness-of-fit test (you were taking a Statistics class). I checked my data and it's all correct so I'm really confused why my answers aren't coming out right."

L took a look at your screen and in a matter of two seconds knew what was wrong, "You have to round up your expected values to the closest whole integer. It should come out right if you do that."

You smiled beamingly and returned with a, "thank you."

"Of course, darling." L leaned in to kiss your cheek, eliciting a bright smile and blush. You were avoiding eye contact with him, but he knew that was your signal of enjoying his affection. L noticed early on that you were easily charmed by displays of affection, whether that be words of endearment or physical affection. L was not one for touching anyone before you. He had begun to learn how touch-starved he also was when you two had begun your relationship.

The look on your face and your body language was enough to make him hard. Your reactions are what got him the most.

L brought his hand to stroke your hair around your neck gently, making you tingle under his touch.

"Do you have anything else planned for the day?"

"Not really. This is the last bit of homework I have for the day. I don't know what I want to do after that."

"Mm.." L leaned closer, and wrapped his arms around your waist (as much as he could manage with you being in a chair).

You laughed playfully yet again but leaned into his touch. L took it upon himself to make a move, having an inclination that you wanted him to be more affectionate with you. He gently kisses the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine, and a delightful hum from you.

"You're so beautiful, did you know that?" L teases.

You laugh and blush at his compliment, "You must be lying."

"Not at all. The truth is, you're gorgeous. I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes off of you today because of your beauty and charm."

"I noticed."

Of course you did. You were an observant person, which is something L admired about you. Though maybe it wasn't too hard to tell, for he hadn't necessarily been sneaky with his glances at you.

"Does it make you nervous when I look at you like this?" L probes.

"No. Well, I feel a little embarrassed, but I'm not uncomfortable by you."

"There's no need to be embarrassed, I'm merely admiring how adorable you are. I don't want you to feel self conscious."

But deep down, L found your shyness cute and he often took advantage of it. L begins trailing soft kisses along your neck as he held you.

"Mmfmm."

Your voice was going to drive him crazy. If you two weren't in separate chairs right now, you would be able to feel L's prominent erection through his pants. L moves his hands from your waist to the sides of your arms, touching them in a feather-like motion in an attempt to make you feel just as aroused as he is. You sigh desperately at his loving affection.

"You're distracting me from my homework..," you say playfully.

"Good. You've been distracting me all day," L retorts.

An instinctive breathy laugh comes out from you but quickly turns into a pleasured yearn. L takes this as an invitation to turn your chair around.

"Sit in my lap."

"Um..."

"I don't want to hear the excuse that you're too heavy. I insist."

L's look of lust and need makes it apparent that he's aching for this. You oblige his request and rest yourself on his lap, trying not to put your whole weight down. L places his hands on your hips, though, and pulls you down. You underestimated his strength sometimes, because of how light he is.

L initiates a deep, romantic, and passionate kiss. His lips embrace yours tenderly, yet full of yearning. You grind your hips along his crotch, feeling his very obvious boner, which causes a spike of arousal in your pussy.

The kisses between the two of you quickly become much more heated. L slips his tongue to search for an entrance, and you allow him to explore yours as he gropes your breasts, though not too rough. L was a very meticulous lover and not very aggressive. No one would've been able to tell that he's a very tender, sweet, and loving boy. He only let you see that side of him.

He tweaks your left nipple through your shirt, causing a surprisingly powerful response from you. Sounds of pleasure exit your mouth and you hold onto your boyfriend close for comfort. He continues to run his thumb along your sensitive bud, and makes sure to begin to give the other just as much attention.

"Aaahh~"

"Hmm..does this feel good, my love?"

"Y-yes.." you whine.

L continues his treatment as he kisses you. He then removes his hands, which makes you somewhat disappointed, but he proceeds to pull your shirt over your head. He looks at you unapologetically and is unable to help raising his pointer finger to his lip as he gandered at you. You were so beautiful, so perfect for him. Just for him.

His face was dusted a light pink, evident that he was aroused. Though, the continuously growing and grinding of his boner made that much more obvious. L continues to care for your tits, leaning in to suck on your right nipple as he played with your left with his finger. The reactions you gave him was enough to make him go absolutely mad.

You gasp and moan, a bit embarrassed by his fixation on your chest, though it wasn't exactly a bother. It felt very good, as you were quite sensitive there.

You tug at the back of L's shirt, attempting to pull it over his head. He removes his latch on your breasts and allows you to take it off. He shuddered a bit at the cold air against his bare skin, but when you press your own nude torso against his, he feels a sense of warmth and comfort.

The kisses continue, and you begin rocking your pussy on L's groin, causing a grunt to exhale from his mouth. Your crotch moves directly up his shaft from what you can tell through the fabric, and L's hold on you tightens. You lower your head to kiss the nape of his neck, teasing up to the most sensitive spot that you're aware of.

"Ah..Y/N...."

"Mmm," you hum against the kiss on his neck as you simultaneously tease his bulge.

"Y/N..it hurts.."

You look up, scared that you did something wrong.

"What does?"

"My..my penis. It aches, I want it out." L sounds entirely desperate at this point, as his words are becoming jumbled. It made you so horny that you were allowed the privilege of observing him in this manner.

You raise yourself from his lap, which draws out a whine from L, that indicates his need for you. You lower yourself down on your knees in front of him. You realize that the chair he is in is too tall for you to do anything, so you crank the setting so that the chair lowers. When it does you unbutton L's pants and drag them off of him. All that remained was his underwear, that had a wet spot forming along the tip of his cock. It looked so tight around his boxers that you were sure it was somehow painful.

Wrapping your fingers around the hem of his underwear, you pull them down and watch as his cock springs out. It was a little funny, but you held back the laugh in case it made him insecure. You take his pretty cock in your hands and begin stroking it.

"Aah..love.."

"Does it feel good?"

"Yes..but, please, I...I need you."

"Hm?"

"I know what you want to do to me but...I need you. To be inside of you. If you do that, I'll cum too fast and won't be able to penetrate you later."

"I thought I'd help you out with my mouth."

"I know, darling, but I can't wait."

You smile, flattered by his desire for you. You supposed a blowjob would have to wait for another time. Standing up, you leaned closer to kiss him again, and he practically pulled you into his embrace. While he cups your face with one hand, he finds his way to the button of your shorts with only his one hand. He was skilled like that. L pulls your shorts down your legs and is taken aback by how wet you were. He couldn't bare to not touch you.

His diligent fingers grazed your pussy, teasing it in a back-and-forth manner, causing you to whimper. He circled two fingers around your clit lightly, drawing the most pretty sounds from you. His cock was leaking from how seductive you were. Arching your back for him, pushing your pussy into his touch to encourage him to be rougher. He then stands up to place you on top of his desk, and he knelt before you.

L passionately places kisses along your inner thighs and proceeds to the outer labia of your pussy, neglecting your starving clitoris.

"L...please.."

"What's that, love?"

"Please..my.."

"Your what?"

URG. He was such a tease, and he most certainly did it on purpose.

"Please, my clit," you whine desperately.

"Of course, love. Who am I to deny you of that?"

Then, just as you had wanted, L wraps his tongue and lips around your clitoris and sucks it with eagerness. He was so perfect at what he did. L knew all of your sensitive spots, and how to touch you in such a way that makes you absolutely crazy. Your clit continues to be pulled by L's skilled lips, and he proceeds to flick his tongue up and down it.

"AaAH!"

"That's it baby, make all the sounds you need to."

L attacks your clit with his mouth some more, and his gentle demeanor dissolves as he doesn't hesitate to bring you to complete ecstasy. He was determined to make you cum all over his face. His sucks and licks become aggressive, almost overwhelmingly pleasurable. You weren't going to last much longer.

"L-I'm.."

"I know, love. You can do it for me, I know you can."

"MMfmH! Aaa~" and in a matter of 3 seconds, you clit spasms and slick fluid gushes out of your pussy, drenching L's face in your cum. Both of your breaths are heavy, and L briefly observes your pussy twitching. He reaches over to his pants and wipes your arousal off of his face.

L hovers above you, looking you in the eyes, to which you avert your gaze. It isn't that you didn't love looking at him, you were just bad with eye contact. He gently tilts your face to look at him, not so much as to force you to look at him, but because he wanted to see your facial expressions.

"I want you, Y/N..I want to fuck you so bad."

"You can. I want you to.."

He kisses the side of your neck and grabs your thighs to lift your legs, giving him full access to your pussy. He lines himself up to your entrance and sinks himself inside. The both of you are immediately struck with pleasure at the contact.

L thrusts at a moderate pace, making sure he figures out the perfect angle to hit your g-spot. It doesn't take him long at all, as you are moaning in complete pleasure, causing him to become entirely engrossed in arousal. L can't help but to quicken his pace, fucking you passionately as he kisses you. He watches your face intently, discerning what makes you quiver the most, but also just for his own personal amusement.

Seeing you like this. Completely cocksick for him and needy. Your warm, wet, soft, and tight walls drive him beyond enjoyment. Your face as he thrusts in you perfectly, the way you furrow your eyebrows and part your lips is so alluring and beautiful. It makes him addicted to you.

"I love you.." L mumbles.

You grip your arms around his shoulders and allow him to thrust deeper. "I love you too."

L holds you tight, fucking you carnally. Right now, he needs to cum inside of you, to claim you as his own lover. No one else but him can feel how gooey you are and see how vulnerable you become from his attention.

Your tight walls clench and he knows that he's not going to last much longer. He can feel the initiation of an orgasm coming, and he buries his face into your neck.

"Y/N...I'm going to cum.."

"Cum in me.."

You didn't have to tell him twice. With a few more fast thrusts, L finishes by bucking inside of you and cumming deep in you. Surely his seed was entering your womb. It's a good thing you're on birth control.

"Awh..darling, you're.."L's breath is heavy, "you're perfect. I love you so much."

"I love you..I love you more than I could ever tell you."

"Is that so?" L teases.

"Yes," you giggle.

"Hm..well, perhaps we should clean up. I'm sure Watari isn't going to want to take care of all of this."

"Yea, haha. You're right."

L kisses your forehead tenderly, and you both get dressed and clean up the mess you two made.

Lucky for L, he got just what he wanted.

[krizariel]

"You need to stop this."

"What?" Tim said, taken aback

"You like me. I have noticed the way you look at me, the way your eyes linger when you think im not looking, how you try to advocate for me in front of Bruce or Dick. The way you always stick around. At first I thought you were just keeping an eye on me making sure I don't go batshit but I'm not an idiot. I know what that is like and you have a big fat crush."

Tim didn't assent or denied, he just stood there, unmoving.

"You need to find someone better. Someone who actually, genuinely, cares for you. I'm an asshole but I'm honest and I'm not one to play around with someone's feelings especially not someone I've come to genuinely respect. Right now, right here, I'm telling you: it's going nowhere. Deal with it however you need to and find someone worth your affections. I'm sure it's out there, it's just not me."

That was the last time Jason saw him.

…With his eyes open that is.

----

When he first heard the news, it hit harder then he let on. A mission with Batman went wrong and Tim was shot in the head. Although Bruce managed to take him to the hospital in time and he survived, he had fallen into a coma. As he stood there while Bruce reported the details, his words suddenly felt further and further until he couldn't hear anything. He didn't want this. Yet another Robin falling for the mission. But most importantly… he never got to make peace with him. Now the last thing he remember of Tim is his saddened eyes quickly turning blank and turning away. Maybe one time he had misplaced hate towards him but he doesn't feel any of it now. He had hurt him before; he didn't want to hurt him again. He thought letting him down fast and hard would be better for Tim… but maybe it was just better for himself. He could've done better but he didn't. So he did what he did when he feels he screwed up and he can't do anything about it: He focused on what he CAN do. The assholes who got Tim were still out there. They escaped while Bruce focused on saving Tim's life. So Jason didn't waste time. He knew Bruce would not rest until he found them so he offered his unsolicited assistance, with the caveat that he cannot refuse. "It's either this or I'll do it my way and we both know you'd prefer it if we do it your way."

(and so would Tim)

(If he was angrier and he broke a more bones than intended, no one said anything)

-----

At first he'd sneak during the night, seat at the further corner of the room, staring at Tim's hospital bed. The room ever so silent tormented him at first.

At first maybe it was torture. Maybe that was the reason why he'd come almost every night. Sometimes he'd doze off for an hour or two and then he'd head out the same way he came.

Later he decided… the least he could do is bring flowers. Maybe. It was too late to find a flower shop so he stole some gardenias he thought were pretty.

Another day he brought some white lilies because they seemed bright and somehow reminded him of Tim.

And so on, different kind of flowers made their way to Tim's bedside table.

(Jason finally found himself inside a flower shop almost at closing time, browsing flowers)

It finally hit him that he doesn't know what Tim's favorite flower is. He thought…that is something he would like to ask him when he wakes up.

Slowly, he found himself getting closer to the bed, keeping the flowers watered and seating in silence, just reading. Somehow knowing that Tim's heart was still beating was good enough. Months passed and this became his routine.

Sometimes, he'd just seat beside Tim's bed to tell him about his day; sometimes he'd read for him some of his own favorite stories (and wondered what did Tim like to read for leisure? what were his favorite books?)

Sometimes he's just have a shitass day and sneak around to Tim's room. No one ever thinks to look for him there. Great hiding place.

Sometimes he feels like talking about his past, his present and wistful future.

And sometimes he wonders if any of it reaches Tim's subconscious, somehow.

He started thinking about Tim opening his eyes. He is starting to forget how he looks awake, fighting or working. It is then that he decided to just loook for photos of Tim… just about any he could find in files or at the mansion. Alfred had quite a few, most of them were of younger Tim.

There were some others of older Tim in the news (Thank you Vicky!) And that brough him back to the last memory he has of Tim's bright blue eyes, clearly heartbroken.

And so he wonders if he could be given another chance to see him again.

If he was granted another chance, he promised this time he'd do anything to make him smile instead.

"Hey there, sleeping beauty." Jason greeted him as he bumped his forehead to Tim's. This close he could see those pretty eyelashes, pretty and still unmoving. But could also feel a bit of Tim's warmth and that was enough. He couldn't help himself and hopes Tim would forgive him for that.

It's been over a year, but Jason hopes. It finally happened, not long afterwards. Tim's eyes finally fluttered open.

"Who are you?"

Part 2 Part 3

[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

[starsoftheeye]

i keep thinking about my "samcelia relationship of convenience turned real relationship" post because think about it

imagine celia ripley, no stranger to the way the world works, making her way to a goverment job to gather information on whatever messed up shit the magnus institute had going on, and maybe figure out how she got to this universe in the meantime, expecting to keep her head down as to not attract suspicion, just doing her job with the occasional researching of specific files when nobody is looking

when on her first day she meets samama khalid, a wet cat of a man who either has a crush on her or is an extremely nice person, and after an apocalypse the latter is hard to believe now. and at first she feels a little bad, because yeah unrequited love sucks and all, and its not like he isnt a nice guy, but she really doesn't have the time for that right now. so she keeps looking into the magnus institute

until she finds out about his past. and thats when the cogs in her brain start turning. its morally dubious, but most things at the oiar seem to be, and shes not afraid of hurting a few feelings to get what she wants

so celia and sam start going out. he's excited, and she cant stop herself from feeling just a little guilty, but the flirting comes fairly easily to her and she needs any information she can get her hands on, so she pushes it aside. kindness wont help her here. it certainly didnt help the archivist, even more trapped than she is

so she plays the role of the girlfriend. flirtatious comments here and there, enough physical contact to maintain appearances, smiles when he thinks she thinks he isnt looking. pulling all the stops from all the generic romance movies she doesnt remember seeing

and it does prove useful. its helpful to have someone else on her side of things, even if they arent fully aware of it. shes getting more information now, more than she could've on her own, and sams still none the wiser.

it feels nice, to have someone in her corner. she has georgie of course, but she cant talk to her about the statements, and the less she knows, maybe the better. and she plays the part of the sweet office girlfriend well. she comforts and supports when she can, the hands on his shoulders she uses to steer him in certain directions are as gentle as she can keep them while doing what needs to be done. its a little awkward for her at times, but shes definitely been through worse

and it does get easier. sams sweet, and hes difficult not to like. he cares for her, genuinely cares for her, and she cant help but return the favour at times. he makes her smile, even sometimes when he isnt looking, and somehow, even when she is so out of place in this world, she feels less alone with him

she still keeps her hands on his shoulders, never willing to give up the opportunity shes been given, but its different now, and she wonders if when hes given her all the information he can whether she can keep her hands there, no steering or pulling, just gentle touch, and the question of what will become of him when she has all the information he needs becomes a little harder to answer. then one day she kisses him, and she wonders when exactly she stopped pretending

[imtrashraccoon]

This one went a completely different direction than I had originally pictured, but I love how it turned out. Unfortunately, there's only so much lore/headcanons I can naturally implement without it feeling like pure exposition. If you have questions, feel free to send me an ask for clarification!

@scrambledmeggys

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Day 14: Scars

You were helping Papyrus with dinner prep by cutting up some vegetables for him. It had been a long time since you helped anyone cook like this; maybe back before you left for college at your parent's house? Sometimes Frisk had helped you but they were still learning and could only do so much.

Things had seemingly returned to normal after the fight you'd had with Papyrus a few days prior. Well, mostly normal, other than some lingering awkwardness, you were trying your best to stick to what you'd suggested doing. If your relationship was to have any chance of working, you both would need to practice proper communication rather than jumping to conclusions.

"Hey, Precious?" Papyrus asked all of the sudden.

You hummed quietly in acknowledgement and briefly glanced over at him.

Papyrus was focused on searing some beef in a pan but he continued. "Have You Ever Wanted To Be A Parent?"

His question threw you off your rhythm and the knife you'd been using suddenly slipped. With a sharp gasp, you quickly pulled your hand away and dropped the blade on the cutting board.

Papyrus was instantly by your side. "Did You Hurt Yourself?" he asked quickly, although there was a heavy layer of concern in his tone.

Rather than immediately answer him, you moved to the sink and turned the cold water on. After letting your finger sit in the running water for a few seconds, you carefully examined the small cut.

"It's not very deep," you finally concluded. "I'll be alright, I'm sorry if I scared you."

"Are You Sure?" Papyrus slowly moved to stand next to you again and you could feel him studying you.

You chuckled as you put your finger underneath the cold water again. "I'm positive, besides, this is basically just a paper cut. It probably won't even scar."

"You Can Get Scars?"

At first you weren't sure if Papyrus was being serious, but a quick glance at his face, proved that he was still quite concerned which made you feel pretty bad.

"Yes, I can. If anything, I'm more likely to scar than you might be because of how soft human skin is."

Getting an idea, you rolled up your right sleeve until it was up to your elbow, exposing a small but noticeably paler patch of slightly raised skin on your forearm. "See? This is actually the worst one I have but it's not too big."

Papyrus seemed slightly more intrigued and he studied the scar for a moment. "How Did You Get This One?" he asked quietly.

"Ah, well, it's a bit embarrassing actually. I was helping my mom do some canning when I was eleven and found out the hard way how hot steam is. I actually had to go to the hospital since it was so severe, but the scar ended up a lot smaller than it could've been because my mom acted quickly."

Papyrus cautiously ran a finger over the area and glanced up at you. "Does It Hurt Anymore?"

You shook your head, "Nah, but I'll tell you it hurt like hell for a while before it fully healed."

"Skeletons Do Not Experience Burns Like This," he murmured thoughtfully. "We Quite Literally Do Not Have The Skin For It."

"That makes sense. I always wondered how much different you are because you don't have fleshy armour like humans do."

Papyrus grimaced at the thought of flesh armour. "Please Do Not Refer To It Like That..." he muttered.

You laughed and turned off the faucet as the bleeding from your cut had pretty much stopped by now. "Okay, okay, I won't. It isn't inaccurate though, our skin is basically like armour to protect our bodies from germs and the rest of our flesh serves to cushion our bones and internal organs from damage."

"It Is Still Weird. Monsters Do Not Have Nearly As Much Physical Matter As Humans Do," Papyrus said. When you gave him a confused look, he added, "We Are Mostly Made Of Magic And As A Result, Our Bodies React Differently When Harmed."

He took your hand in both of his own and before you could protest, a soft green glow flickered to life in his palms. The minor stinging from the cut was quickly replaced by a warm but tingly sensation. It only lasted a few seconds but when he released his magic again, you discovered that the cut had completely disappeared.

"Woah..." you murmured and tentatively flexed your once injured finger. It was as if you hadn't cut yourself to begin with.

"You can heal injuries?" When Papyrus nodded, you grinned, "That's so cool! I bet it comes in handy with all the fights you and Sans get into."

"It Does, Although I Am One Of Only A Few Monsters Who Are Able To Use Healing Magic. Most Monsters Who Can, Become Doctors So They Can Help Others." He sighed and added, "I Do Not Want To Get Into All The Reasons Why Right Now, Maybe Another Time..."

You nodded and decided to ask a different question instead. "So if you can heal injuries like that so easily, how come you still have scars?"

"Ah, That Is A Slightly Complicated Question To Answer." Papyrus returned to the pan he'd been cooking the beef in earlier while he tried to collect his thoughts.

"Minor Injuries Are Quite Easy To Heal, But I Only Have A Certain Amount Of Magic That I Can Use At A Time Before I Have To Rest. The Scars I Have Are Reminders That I Used To Be Weaker Than I Am Now."

Papyrus motioned to the four inch long scar that went through his right eye socket, "This One Nearly Killed Me."

"That's pretty hardcore," you commented. "My scars aren't nearly that cool. In fact, they're pretty much all from little mistakes I made as a kid."

Papyrus chuckled and gently nuzzled your cheek. "Well Regardless, I Love How Soft You Are, Precious..."

You smiled although you could feel a familiar warmth colour your cheeks as you returned to preparing the vegetables again, his original question apparently forgotten...

[chiptaylorsfirst]

Hey! Not really sure if you also write abt the angsty stuff, but if so or if you're up to it anyway, I was wondering if you'd consider writing an angst for Kit Walker inside the Briarcliff asylum please, I mean him dealing with some darker stuff in there, alongside a female reader who can be also a patient... You can go as dark as you possibly can please, that's more than okay with me...

Anyway if this is okay and you’re interested, I would truly appreciate it!!! Love your fics btw 🫶🏻

A/N: Hopefully this is angsty enough. I don't have much experience in writing things like this so I truly hope you enjoy it. My apologies for taking so long to reply btw.

Word Count: 1,035

Pairing: Kit Walker x patient!fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, abuse, mental issues, mentions of murderous thoughts, depression

Summary: Kit has reached the point of no return and you don't know if there's any way to redeem him.

You swore that anyone who stepped foot in Briarcliff would confuse it as being hell. It was literally the worst place you could've ever found yourself in and all because you believed Kit. The days were definitely becoming more tiresome.

You'd given up on fighting your baddles. Sister Jude made sure of that. You decided that you would just have to take any torture that was given to you and finally succumb to everyone else around you. Though it was stressful and difficult, you found it to be a good technique and you acquired less scratches and bruises that way. You weren't worried about yourself at all but Kit was beginning to shift into someone unrecognizable.

His laughter and smiles dissappeared entirely. Then he began to distance himself from everyone, barely making eye contact with anyone except for a few seconds. Your conversations got scarier and you watched the man you'd fallen in love with slip away. You were currently trying to get his attention, his eyes covered in dark circles as he looked elsewhere, completely zoned out. 

“Kit, baby. Please talk to me.” When he looked at you, your stomach almost dropped to the floor. All emotion in his face was gone and his body was covered in different marks due to the treatment given by the asylum.

“What do you want?” You blinked back tears before speaking. “I want Kit back, the man who loved me and proposed to me.” His face slightly softened but you could tell he still wasn’t himself. “I can’t be him for you, darling. He died as soon as I came in here.” You were practically pleading now, doing your best to give him even a sliver of hope. 

“Kit, you can’t say that. You promised that we would stick together through anything and everything no matter what we’d face. You said that we would catch Bloody Face and get the hell out of here, that we would fight together. It seems that your depression has turned you into a coward, so you’re right. You're not the Kit Walker that I knew because he would be too brave to ever receive defeat yet alone claim it.” 

You still didn’t receive much of a reaction from him until you did. “So I’m a fucking coward because I’m tired of enduring beating after beating? I’m a coward because I care more about the bit of sanity that I have over playing heroes and villains? I am a monster, Y/N. These thoughts that I have in my mind sometimes, I just can’t control them. If I get let out, I may just kill someone and the problem is that I’d sleep like a baby afterwards. I don’t have one bit of love in me now. All that I have is hate and rage. I’m tired and I can’t ever be what you wanted me to be, okay?” 

You leaned into him and cupped his face, making him look you in your eyes. “And if I said that you being how you are now was enough, what would you do? You could never harm me. I think the asylum’s done enough of that.” 

He closed his eyes before shaking his head. “No, you don’t understand the feeling. It feels so bad to just be stuck inside of your own head afraid that you’re gonna do something, to be so far gone that you know whatever horrible thing that you may do, you won’t regret it. I mean, I have these urges when I just wanna watch the life leave from someone. You think that I’m crazy, don’t you?” Tears were falling from your eyes, your voice shaky as you spoke.

“No, Kit. You’re just hurt.” “You’re afraid of me. You can barely look me in the eyes. You’re gonna get out of here without me and you’ll go off and marry some nice, sane man. You’ll forget about me and I want you to because I can’t take care of you. I can’t even take care of myself.” 

“Kit–” “Please stop talking to me before I do something you may not like. Leave me.” His voice was stern and steady. You felt your heart completely crush. He snatched your engagement ring from your finger, dropping it on the ground along with his. You were beyond torn from his actions, your eyes pleading with him for something different. This wasn’t supposed to be the outcome. He was always your sweet and delightful sunshine, never afraid to fight against others. 

“You are stronger than this and you can fight it.” Tears fell from his eyes as he looked at you. “I can’t even close my eyes. All that I see is pain and these urges get stronger the more that I fight against them. I can't get out of here, not when I know that I'd be sent back. I want to suffer alone in the knowledge that I am not what I used to be. I don't want you to witness what I'll become. You need to remember me as the man you first met.”

His voice cracked. The small bit of control that he had over himself was now tumbling down. He kissed you on your cheek, showing the last bit of himself that he could before he spoke to you, his voice a soft and gentle tone. “Don’t come back here ever again. Leave me, forget about me, do whatever you need to and move on. Live your life to the fullest. You can’t do that if you keep trying to visit me and see me in this state. It’s only gonna get worse. Leave before it’s too late, while there’s still time, while I still have a bit of sanity left."

You reluctantly did as he asked, watching as Sister Jude happily took him away. He didn't bother to look back at you and you felt a newfound feeling of sadness and emptiness pang inside of you. Kit was your everything. He was te epitome of love in your eyes and now he was ruined. You just hoped that you wouldn't follow the same path but then again it would be difficult considering he was your only and true love.

[likedovesinthewindd]

Request: can you write a Miguel x Spider person reader where the reader has been in the spider society for a while but in their universe they were marred to Miguel but their Miguel from their universe died?? But due to an anomaly Spider readers Miguel comes back to life and the reader kills him because it’s needed to fix the cannon?

when I read this, my first reaction was literally "good lord" because WOW😭 I tweaked it a teeny bit so that readers miguel gets killed instead of reader killing him. (I can't write about killing someone I'm so sorry 😭) also the science in this doesn't really make sense but 🤷‍♀️

miguel o'hara x reader

To any outsider, it probably seemed as though you took a masochistic delight out of all of this. Like you enjoyed torturing yourself in this way; being constantly reminded of what you lost so long ago and having to scratch open that wound every single day, not giving yourself the chance to heal.

And in some way, it probably was, but you found enough comfort in reminding yourself that what you saw now was not what you lost. When you looked at Miguel, you didn't see your Miguel. He wasn't the Miguel you met all those years ago, the Miguel who was so sweet and caring and who you couldn't help but fall in love with. The Miguel you eventually married, and later had to watch die.

Remembering that was what helped you to detach from him, what stopped your emotions from ever getting the best of you and doing something that would just cause more heartbreak on your end.

This being said, it wasn't always easy. There were days you'd look at Miguel and imagine what your life would've been like with your Miguel, how things would've played out if he hadn't been taken away from you so suddenly and cruelly. But you'd only shake your head and scold yourself. He was dead, he didn't have to die again, and he wouldn't be coming back.

Until he did.

˚｡⋆.˳⁺⁎˚

"You're asking me to watch him die again? To let him die again?" you asked as you stared at Miguel. He was as stoic as ever, not letting an inkling of emotion show. You sometimes wondered if he even had any emotions left, any humanity. "Yes," he said, "you of all people should know, this is necessary for the—"

"Canon, yeah I know." he didn't look too happy about you interrupting him. "But surely this is different, Miguel," you tried, "this anomaly is working with time travel, something we haven't really dealt with, maybe—"

"No, I'm not taking that risk, I'm not," he said, turning his back to you, a way of telling you that the conversation was over. You weren't done though. "Please, Miguel, this could change everything. You of all people should know—"

"Don't go there, Y/N," he turned around, stopping you before you had the chance. You knew it was a low blow, but you also knew you were right. He knew what it felt like, he'd try to get his family back and failed, and now because he failed, he wouldn't give you that chance.

He tursaw the way your eyes brimmed with tears, too angry and stubborn to let them fall. I sighed, pinching his nose between his thumb and pointer finger. "What I did back then was wrong, irresponsible and dangerous," he started in a low voice. "Our first priority is catching the anomaly, and once we do, the timeline resets and we still end up here, and your husband will still be dead."

That was the first time you heard him actually talk about what happened, explicitly say it. It sounded so foreign coming from his mouth.

"Miguel, please..."

"No." this time he turned his back and the conversation was finally over.

˚｡⋆.˳⁺⁎˚

You thought you've known the worst pain in watching your husband die, but nothing compared to having to watch him die again, knowing that you could've prevented it this time but not being able to do anything.

For the first time ever it seemed to really kick in; your Miguel was really dead, and nothing you did would ever be able to bring him back to you.

a/n: this is so short but I might come back to it again I'm so busy w school rn 😵‍💫

[fxlsealarm]

starlight ──────────────────────

commander cody x reader

summary | cody can't help to wander from time to time, thinking about perfect times and everything he could've had done differently.

warnings | fem!reader, jedi!reader (third person), vague mentions of death and injuries

word count | 853

note | i started writing this after the solitary clone, what cody said really make something to me, so this is more like a thought about him and a sad thing i made up

────────────────────────────────

For the first time in what feels like forever, he’s alone. Maybe it’s an exaggeration, maybe he's right to think it could be forever, not that his life has been that long at that point, but it feels like it.

He can't think of a single moment in his life when there wasn't someone by his side, someone he could go to when he needed to; he didn't do that too much anyway, he always tried to keep his problems to himself, but still. He didn't used to think about any of that, but now his chest quivers at the realization. He is alone.

He can't look away. An image so familiar yet so strange at the same time, the stars glowing at the distance, creating patterns that surround the ship that’s floating in the middle of nowhere, but even that’s better than the place he just left. He shifts on his seat, was it right to think about it that way? He starts to wonder if he made the right choice and, even if he didn't, there’s no turning back now anyway. There would be questions and he doesn't have answers, not even for himself.

The empty black space stares right at him in response, what is it seeing? Is it staring at the clouds in his head? like everyone looks at them in the sky when they say that a storm is coming. Maybe it’s trying to figure him out, but there’s no way to know it, maybe it’s waiting, for what? He doesn’t know, but he likes to think that something better is gonna happen, even when he doesn't deserve it, not after everything he’s done.

It’s in times like this that the silence starts to feel uncomfortable, like one of those parasites he’d heard about, the ones that get in your head and start messing with everything that’s there. He enjoyed the silence once, but in that time there was always someone with him, helping him fill the gaps with their presence and he could get lost in the beauty of a quiet room, away from the horrific sounds of everything that was always happening around him.

A time ago he wanted to get rid of the noise, now he needs it, because the silence just gets louder and louder and it reminds him of her. It’s not that he doesn’t like to remember her, but with her memory comes things that he would rather erase from his head.

Everything reminds him of her these days and sometimes he just wants to forget, but how could he? When he swears he can hear her calling his name in every silent place, when the warmth of the sunlight feels like her fingertips brushing against his cheek with that softness only she posses and when the stars that now stare at him look exactly like the shine of her eyes when they meet his. How can he forget when every single thing in existence reminds him of her?

He stops looking outside, his eyes clinging to the empty seat at his left, imagining that if he stares at it enough time she's gonna appear, giving him one of her sweet smiles and assuring him that everything's gonna be fine; maybe that’s what he needs now, his name falling from her lips one more time, in a different way that the last time it did, less worried, less afraid.

His forehead gets against the panel in front of him, the cold material making chills run down his spine and, with eyes closed and that awful feeling crawling to his chest, he thinks about her one more time; maybe in a comforting way, maybe he's just blaming himself again, for everything. That pops another question to his head and with that, another memory.

Would it be a little masochistic of him to think about her purposefully? He never saw himself that way but couldn’t help but wonder if he really was like it, just like she said once.

He was back after a mission where everything went wrong and, as always, who was going to carry the blame? Him. No one said anything about it, it was more like a joint defeat for everyone else, but he couldn’t stop thinking that maybe if he had done something different there wouldn’t be any casualties.

"You have to stop beating yourself up" were her words in that tone she used when she was worried, her voice always seemed to soften when she talked to him, he never said anything about it, enjoying the privilege of seeing a less cold side of her "I'm starting to think you enjoy it" she said, caressing his arm, fingertips brushing over the patch on his most recent injury.

He didn’t answer at the moment, melting into her touch and the peace her presence brought him, but he’d like to tell her how wrong she was. He didn’t enjoy the pressure he was in, but he needed to get through it, he needed to keep his image and so was she, they just had instants when they could let go, instants when nothing but them mattered and they could simply enjoy. Now those instants were gone and so was she and it was, ultimately, his fault.

[shesnake]

ok saurrr i JUST finished ep3 of the Lazarus project so SPOILERS for anyone who hasn't seen it. i know a lot of ethical questions are being raised here but i wanted to know your thoughts on the absolute horror of that episode and the ethics involved because im so confused and conflicted and horrified (in a good way!) idk like maybe here are just some thoughts but: the way people react to each other's tragedies is soo fascinating. the way wes was cold about the rebrovs' son's death but cried when faye dies and when threatened of her own life. the way shiv cries but does nothing (and yet is the only one who tries to acknowledge the horror), the way archie saw it coming and the first thing she does is point it out just to prevent future heartbreak, the way janet knew the risks and did it anyway and that STILL doesn't negate the fact that it was still horrible that she lost her son even though everyone knew it was a real possibility. and the way you can read rebrov's breakdown as a possible empathetic response to archie losing wes even though he also partly blames them for not saving the timeline sooner. the way that janet knows the agony that can result specifically from turning back time and yet helps george anyway because despite it all, she still chose to give birth to her daughter every time.

hellooooooo babe I appreciate these messages so much I love talking about TLP. ok SO:

in relation to wes.. SO many questions about her and the project itself. we are supposed to assume they have no allegiances with any country and operate independently, but they clearly have a western bias which makes me wonder who's really in charge? is their job not just western imperialism? how is wes the highest they can go up the ladder but she doesn't seem to have much idea of what's going on? what does she know? who the fuck is she???? if lazarus isn't tied to any government what keeps them in check?? who's playing god here? because I don't think it's wes.

lazarus agents all seem to be conditioned to be fine violating whatever geneva conventions it takes to get the job done for the greater good. they're all selected from imperialist militant intelligence backgrounds. shiv was brought in at a VERY young age because he "did the right thing" in the eyes of lazarus/wes and the kind of loyalty that cemented in him, probably grateful to have an answer/directive to this thing that's been happening to him all his life. lazarus is the highest authority and the closest thing to god for shiv. and they let him in BECAUSE he "did the right thing" in their eyes, so he wants to keep doing whatever that is. even if there was something he could've done differently in those last moments before the first checkpoint of ep 3, would he??? I don't think he would've at that point before later character development.

(side note: george also got time loop consciousness by a fluke and already had a solid background in tech so that he could easily work in their intelligence. sometimes I wonder what might happen to a random person with time loop consciousness who had no existing skills or resources useful to lazarus. would they just leave them to go mad???)

then there's the greater good in question. dennis is such an insane character to me because I get it!!! I really do!!!! tom burke also played a character not dissimilar to rebrov in my fav show utopia. he's objectively evil for wanting humanity's extinction to happen, but he's written in a way where we can actually empathise with that pain, because what happens to him and janet is sure as fuck enough to make you question god.

then with janet... I think her decision to go through the first pregnancy despite the risky timing speaks to how much she loved and trusted the people she worked with at lazarus. they were all brought together by their shared time loop consciousness and their fucked up jobs they can't talk about to anyone else. your coworkers are all you've got when you're all working for god. you can't Not be loyal you can't Not care about each other. (even when archie loses ross and decides to never love again she is such a FIERCE friend, even to george. shiv is the same.) that silly exchange with the whole group "janet had a bleed" "I can confirm agent rebrov has pamphlets" like they were/are literally a familyyyyyyyyyyy she thought they were going to keep her safe and then they FAILED HER.

and then with choosing to have her daughter... I think it stopped being a choice after the first couple resets but one could argue it might never have been a choice because it's what she feels she owes/is owed after losing her son? the way the daughter is born time loop conscious as well is insane. CRAZYYY episode of television

[mlobsters]

supernatural s5e13 the song remains the same (w. sera gamble, nancy weiner)

sometimes forget they banged in the impala, but then i'm like why is dean being so soft and familiar with her? oh right. anyway, kind of sweet this little interaction in dean's pg-13 stripper dream.

when he wakes up, there's a little chime that sounds just like a doorbell that's been muffled (in my house specifically to try to keep it from waking up a sleeping infant). anyway, the sound design on the original score is rarely very creative, kudos to them. startles the shit out of me every time, but good job on something interesting

ANNA Sam Winchester has to die.

this surely is going to end well for all parties involved.

there was a boy in my high school who had a fucking gorgeous late 70s black pontiac firebird trans am, god the rumble on its engine was delicious. i think i somehow got a ride somewhere with him at one point. he was a cute and smart boy but honestly the car was it.

DEAN So, what, you're like a Delorean without enough plutonium?

CASTIEL I don't understand that reference.

tell him, cas! i just complained about the number of references they use in this show a few episodes ago

cas sure folded like an ugly tan trench coat. "i should go alone" dean: "🥺" ok zap

SAM He's breathing. Sort of.

the line about buying microsoft stock reminds me when i was in middle school i think? there was a project where you had to "buy" a stock and then track its price in the newspaper over some number of days/weeks. imagine that. using the newspaper to check stock prices. ~it was the 90s~

all right so wasn't cas's point back when dean met mary to begin with that you can't change destiny? so isn't this all moot? when does #TeamFreeWill become a thing

JOHN Shut up, all of you! Look, not another word, or so help me, I will turn this car around!

DEAN Wow. Awkward family road trip.

SAM No kidding.

just like home, right, guys?

he reminds me of a combination teen wolf derek (tyler hoechlin) superman (henry cavill variant). one tv superman+one movie superman=young john winchester

SAM Pretty much forever. My dad raised me in it.

JOHN You're serious? Who the hell does that to a kid?

SAM Well, I mean, for the record, Mary's parents did.

JOHN I don't care. You know, what kind of irresponsible bastard lets a child anywhere near—you know, you could've been killed!

SAM I, uh...came kind of close.

JOHN The number it must've done on your head...your father was supposed to protect you.

laughing out loud. i'm sorry sera and nancy, i will always appreciate any and all john winchester shade, and especially unknowingly delivered by john winchester -- but i believe 0.00% late 70s generic straight white man has the emotional intelligence for this thought process / willingness to speak on it / willingness to talk shit about someone's father (a stranger no less) to their face

and i do not appreciate that it caused sam to come rushing to john's defense. gross child neglect, bro. y'all wrote this story and you gotta live with the consequences of how horrifyingly awful of a parent you made him be. just say no to the rehabilitation of john winchester

DEAN You have no other choice. There's a big difference between dying and never being born. And trust me, we're okay with it, I promise you that.

have they talked about this? they're both totally chill with never existing??

DEAN Team Free Will. One ex-blood junkie, one dropout with six bucks to his name, and Mr. Comatose over there. It's awesome.

oh, well. there you go

MARY Ohh...quite a kick there. Troublemaker already. It's okay, baby. It's all okay. Angels are watching over you.

so did michael scrub her brain but also leave some pro-angel bias in there? she said there's no such thing previously about angels. just how much did he scrub? i wonder how much is retcon and how much was actually planned. i imagine i could find the answer if i looked but i kind of like consuming this show in my little bubble the way i do. also, effort

[1800duckhotline]

for your vtmb ocs, has vampirism affected them in other ways besides the traits given to them in-game? (for example a headcanon where them being undead gives them a foul odor, etc)

oooh this is such a good question... I actually have a couple of said headcanons which I will definitely expand upon the more I think about my OCs...

Temerice:

For her (and in general, Gangrels) I had the idea that despite the technically 'dead' condition of her body, she actually grew more body hair as a result of her affinity with canines specifically. As a result is fluffier than she used to be before, even if not by too much. That said, she doesn't care about shaving body hair in her new unlife, which means for her it's not that big of a deal.

Her nails also grow much faster than the average vampire's, and often grow sharp as talons, which means she needs to clip them very often if she's ought to handle business that requires her not to utterly shred something apart. (For example, this is not a thing Madonna has to deal with)

Instead of having just vampiric canines, Temerice's denture has shifted to be more similar to a hybrid between mammal and canine dental structure. This is something I think applies to all Gangrel that have higher affinity with canines and/or felines or literally most animals that are provided with different teeth. As a result, her feeding sessions tend to be messier than a regular vampire's, which is not an issue for her since she prefers drinking from blood bags...

Aligned with her more canine features, Temerice also has a much finer hearing, which means she can also sometimes hear sounds other kindred cannot. She also can hear heartbeats, and is quick to tell when someone's nervously lying.

Shifting to her protean war form for a while (she can sustain it for an hour max as a fledgling) may cause her to retain some traits of it when turning back in her human form. This means an uncanny anatomical facial structure, bigger hands than normal, bigger bat-like ears and body hair that looks more like fur in patches as well as retaining some kind of canine traits in her visage. Whenever this happens she tends to ride it out by relaxing in her haven, since she is kind of self-conscious of it... less for the appearance and more because she doesn't want to risk Masquerade violations.

Madonna:

Madonna tends to wear cologne often because turning into a Tremere has given her a permanent, lingering metallic odor. As Tremere practice blood magic, I would imagine them smelling like blood is par-of-the-course, but she isn't a fan of it, and thus she tries to cover it up. It's not a pungent scent by any means, but people with very sensitive noses might catch a whiff of it and wonder a thing or two.

Madonna has more or less developed a quasi-permanent pink-tinted vision. While she still sees colors and shadows just fine, everything is just a little bit redder. I would imagine this is not at all Tremere standard, but she could've inherited it from her sire, Desmond. Nothing incapacitating but it is why she tends to wear red-tinted glasses almost exclusively nowdays.

Her hearing has heightened similarly to Temerice as well, though it's less of a general finer sense of hearing and more specified on human anatomy. She obviously can't hear the smaller machinations of mammal biology but from time to time she's still getting used to hearing heartbeats, gulps, and decompressing muscles from breathing that are not her own. She figures it's part of a strange attuning with blood that Tremere have.

I think i'll figure out more as I go for my other girls as well... but these are the ones I thought of for now!! what a fun question I need to ponder further

[ang3l-core]

Angel Numbers

I know that this might be very self sabotaging and maybe even a bad way of thinking

But I sometimes really wonder if maybe I do put myself in these situations

From a very young age I feel like in my life I really didn't have the proper guidance with some things

I've always had to find out a lot of things for myself

I feel like that's how I've always ended up getting myself in really bad situations

And I feel like over the years it's taken me a while to finally set some boundaries for myself with certain people and to stop enabling myself or others' pattern of certain toxic behaviors

And to learn to just think for myself cuz lord only knows how many times I felt like in so many circumstances like I had to be my own protector

Sometimes when things all get too much I wish I could just call out 444 to any kind of divine power out there or to see if I had any archangels who would come

So maybe they could take the job off my hands to help keep watch over me looking out for people who wanna act towards me out of any malice or with any bad intentions

Even it's for a little while so I could at least rest and ease my mind and finally be able to close my eyes for a second you know because I feel like for so long all I've been is just so hypervigilant but to tell you the truth really though it does kinda make me tired that I've had to go to sleep with one eye open for a while I think from so much distrust

I always felt like I always had to keep on looking over my shoulder

Sometimes I think about how it's almost miraculous I'm here at all, after all that I've gone through and the kind of life that I've had from dealing with shit with my debilitating health and needing so much support and never having the right people

Living in environments that you would probably consider "bad"

Never having the right cards dealt to me and trying to survive in circumstances that could've destroyed me but now that I made it out sort of alright I guess that people will call them more like adversities

But instead of feeling like I'm some sort of person who's brave and resilient at times I just feel like a failure and think about the fact that maybe that all wouldn't have happened and I wouldn't have had to experience all that if maybe I wasn't born a burden

Or to parents who maybe didn't really plan that far ahead and just might have been a little in over their heads

And sometimes I get lost in my head trying to make sense of all of it

But I guess that I'm here anyways so I should be present

And I need to be content or something

But these are some things that I still go on sometimes questioning in my head

Oh can I ask why if "some things happen sometimes" why do I still feel like at most times like still almost everything is my fault ?

And why is it so hard for me to believe when people tell me how much of a good person I am, that I am and they're not just talking about someone else or a different person ? I mean if I am at all

And why do we as people still always try to be perfect when we know as good as anybody else that life isn't perfect at all ?

Tell me was I "saved" and if that's the reason I survived everything ?

And if it's true that I was does that mean there was some more higher purpose for me or do human beings don't need any special reason to deserve to exist, we just do like everything else ?

Should I still be blaming myself for things that I don't know were or weren't avoidable ?

The things I regret that I didn't know in my life until now

Is the reason why I am asking all of these questions because I don't think that my soul was even worth saving or that my reputation can be salvaged ?

And am I just ungrateful or can I still hate that I had to go the situations that I've gone through even though I'm pretty sure that of it has turned me into the person that I am now ?

Like alot of other questions that people have about life I'm sure that most of these will go unanswered and maybe I just have to accept that that's fine

But these are some of the questions about mine that I constantly feel like I think about in my head

And I hope maybe one day I know the answers and finally understand why all of this was made so complicated

Or if there's at all any reason cuz maybe or maybe not there was supposed to be

[ren-or-rin]

On Simon Petrikov and Betty Grof's Ending

I don't have the brain at the moment for the full essay right now, but i wanted to get this out there before it slides into the abyss that is my short term memory. So, uh, spoilers for Fionna and Cake's ending?

I think the main problem that was shown about Betty and Simon's relationship is a lack of Reciprocity. I want to make it clear that both Betty and Simon made their own decisions in their past, that much is clear. They loved each other, and cared about each other. They were happy with their decisions at the time. They each had their own agency, and they still Chose to be together. But whereas Betty would always choose to sacrifice her own plans or wants to go along with Simon's choices, Simon never really seemed to do the same for her when they were still together, less out of any malicious intent and more just him not really noticing or even considering the possibility of doing something that wasn't part of his plan. For heck's sake, look at what happens after he tells the story about how he and Betty managed to connect again at the bus stop:

Simon beloved, my sweet boy, my scrungly dumby. He just. Doesn't really seem to have considered that it was ever a possibility that he could've gone with her instead of the other way around. And that's really the core of it all. He's so focused on his own way that he never really thinks about what would've made Betty happy.

And here's the thing: Betty was happy either way. She always had the option to just turn around and go on that trip. But she chose to stay, because she wanted to be with Simon. And that's a valid choice! They got to share a moment together at the bus stop, which was wonderful. But a relationship needs for both people to be willing to make their own choices and to sometimes make the choice to take care of the other's needs. Simon never really did that for her. He'd do his thing, go for his goals, and Betty would choose to follow, often at the expense of her own stability and plans. Never the other way around.

He literally needed it spelled out for him in the most blatant metaphor of their relationship in the form of the Nova and Casper Choose-Your-Own-Adventure story that GOLBetty sent him to experience for him to finally understand.

"I could've made the effort to support you, the way you always supported me"

And that's the understanding that Simon finally has by the end of the series. And when given a chance to re-visit that moment at the bus stop...

He makes a different choice. Blorbo Simon finally learned to reciprocate and give in a relationship. And what's Betty's reaction?

She's overjoyed. And yet, it's bittersweet. Because he knows that in real life, he didn't make the choice to go with her. This is really all just a vision, a memory where he and Betty can talk.

He can't undo his choices in the past. Just like the game, he's reached a point where they can no longer get that happy ending where they're still able to be together. But he can still do one more thing for Betty, what she wants for him more than anything now. And he does:

He moves on.

He makes friends.

He explores the world.

He finds new meaning.

He gets help.

After a thousand years of grief and madness, Simon Petrikov finally does what he's never really been able to:

He lives his life. Happily.

And that's really all that anyone could really ask for.

"We made our choices. We could've made better ones, but I don't have any regrets."

[darling-to-death]

Can't believe I went through with this, but here it is!

Characters: PC (Penelope Campbell) x Kylar

Genres: Fluff, Implied Smut but only at the very, very end

Warnings: CRINGE

Synopsis: Kylar tries to sneak into Penelope's bedroom, as he has many times before, but things don't go according to plan.

He checks his phone nervously. He has to time things right. If he goes in too early, she'll still be awake. If he goes in too late, she won't be in the right part of her sleep cycle. It should be a deep sleep. That's the only way he gets away with this. Eventually, the time does come. The perfect time. Not too soon either. It's so cold out tonight. The seasons are changing, and they're in that dreadful spot of being hot in the morning and cool at night. He didn't dress appropriately for how long he stood out there, watching her window… and waiting.

Although, he's not the only one that's been waiting. Penelope's grown wise to his schedule. For such a nervous man, he's very strict with his time it seems. On certain days and at certain times, she'll always get her little visitor. She wasn't always such a light sleeper. She doesn't know how many times he's come to visit that she didn't wake up. But certain events have transpired that made her a lot more likely to wake up at the feeling of being touched.

It's okay though. She can tell if it's Kylar. His touch is gentle. His hands shake with nervousness, but his fingers glide against her skin very delicately. He doesn't want to wake her up after all.

…The others don't care about being gentle. They don't care about letting her sleep.

Kylar is different. He loves her. It's just his way of showing love. Sometimes she wonders if she should show love too, but whenever she's been awake and waiting for him, he never comes to visit.

"So shy," She thinks." If this is what he prefers of her, she'll happily play along. She's so good at making people happy. If only she could figure out how to accomplish that for herself, maybe everything would fall into place. But she doesn't have long to think about it. She can hear the window creak open, and feel the cold air enter the room. Her eyes are tightly shut even as the footsteps grow closer. She can feel the bed shift under his added weight; she remains as still as ever. But as the zipper of her cow onesie is pulled down, and his fingertips finally make contact with her skin, she can't control herself from jolting up from the bed with a gasp.

"So cold!"

His hands are like ice. She couldn't keep a straight face through that. It was like touching an ice cube to her skin. Her body reacted before she could think about it. Kylar has a panicked look, like that of a wild animal being caught and cornered. Please don't hate him. He just needed her. He tries to scramble away to save himself from any reprimand or shame, but as he runs away, he trips on one of Penelope's shoes and falls face-first on the floor. Penelope turns on the light and rushes over to him. As he picks himself up from the ground, she can see drops of blood splat on the floor below him.

"Kylar, Kylar, a-are you alright?"

He doesn't answer, doesn't meet her gaze. If anything he tries to disappear from sight, curling into himself and pressing his body against the floor to become as small as possible. He shudders when he feels her hand on his back.

"Kylar, you're freezing. No wonder your hands are cold. Why didn't you wear something warmer?"

"I'm sorry," he spits out,"I'm sorry. I'm sorry," repeating it like a mantra, like a magic spell to make the situation go away. He reaches for the window sill, but Penelope pulls his hand back.

"I'm not sending you back out into the cold, silly. You can stay the night."

His face goes red. This is turning out better than he could've hoped, aside from the injury, but that's nothing new to him. Whitney's done way worse than shoving him on the floor. Although from Penleope's perspective, she's not sure why he seems so excited all of a sudden. It's not like it's the first time he's spending the night. It takes a moment to occur to her that from Kylar's point of view, this is the first time he's had her permission to stay. She'll pretend it's just as special to the both of them.

She grabs a handkerchief from her dresser drawer and begins wiping the blood from his face. He's entranced as she works, so close, so kind to him… motherly in a way.

"Do you think you'll be okay? Does it hurt a lot?"

"I'll be f-fine!" He says assuredly. He doesn't want you to feel the need to get anyone else to look at it. "I-If anything, tomorrow I can g-go see Dr. Harper. W-We get along. He can f-fit me in."

"That's nice. Dr. Harper is…. nice."

Once the bleeding has stopped, she starts leading him to the bed. It's so surreal to him. How many times has he imagined this? Of course he's laid beside her before. Many, many nights he successfully broke into her room and held her and touched her, but he's never been invited to do so. He's scared he's dreaming. Did the cold make him pass out? Or maybe it killed him. Maybe this is heaven.

She pulls the blankets over both of them, snuggling close to make sure he stays warm. She savors the moment, actually getting to move and hold him back. All the times before, she's just been a little doll he got to play with to his liking, and she's happy to play that way, but it's so much nicer when she can move how she likes to.

"Are you comfy?"

He nods, not even remembering the last time he blinked. He's trying to commit every second to his memory like his eyes are a camcorder. Speaking of which…

"Oh!" she gasps. "You should say hello."

"To who?"

"To the one who normally keeps me company in bed."

His knuckles turn white as he grips the pillow beneath his head. Maybe he did die from the cold, but if he did this has turned out to be hell. Seconds pass by, but it feels like an eternity as she turns away from him to rummage for something on the floor. Is there someone under the bed? Is it another man? Is it Whitney? Is it Robin? Is it Sydney? Oh, you simply can't imagine the relief he feels when he sees a puff of yarn emerge from under the blankets.

"Ta-dah! It's Mr. Feathers!"

"M-Mr. Feathers? Is that what you call him?"

"Mhmm! I-I'm sorry. Did he have a name you wanted me to keep? When you gave him to me, I thought it was okay to rename him."

"No, it's fine! R-Really, he's yours…"

He looks down at the plush owl held in her hands. He gave that to her a while ago. It's his way of watching over her… A.K.A it's his way of being a Peeping Tom through the spy camera he put behind its plastic eyes. But it wasn't always just a pervy little tool. It was his toy, his friend. He pats the top of its head gently, feeling the familiar sensation of the feathers peeking out from underneath his fingertips.

"He misses you…"

"What?"

"He misses you… You dropped him off, and… and he… he keeps looking for you. He's just a little guy. He… he's your family. You should visit him more," her voice becomes firmer as she finishes her thought. She knows what Kylar's parents are. Well, she doesn't know exactly, but she's seen what they've become. Kylar said the owl's been in his family a long time. He must've seen them too. She doesn't know how many nights Kylar spent alone in his room, clutching a stuffed animal as his parents stalked the forests behind his home. She can't imagine how important this little guy was to him when it was all he had, and Kylar was all Mr. Feathers had too.

It's so silly. It's so childish. She should've grown out of this habit by now. But she's always gotten so sappy personifying toys. Bailey doesn't give the kids much of anything, so the plushies she had, she had for most of her childhood. They grew more and more worn and torn with years of love. They're hardly recognizable scrap now, but they're the closest thing she has to family. (Aside from Robin of course) That was her favorite game when she was little: family. She thought she was practicing for when she had a real one someday… Maybe she should've practiced more.

"You're like his dad… Mr. Feather is… is your family. You shouldn't just drop him off in someone's care a-and never visit him."

He sees her hands shaking as he grasps the stuffed animal ever tighter.

"Do you want.. me to visit more often?"

"Mr. Feathers does… but I do too if that sweetens the pot."

He cautiously moves closer to her in the bed. His breaths become more shallow. Excitement builds in his gut.

"I-If I'm like his dad… d-does that make you his mommy?" Penelope smiles at him. He swears the world melts away.

"Maybe? If I was a mommy, that means I'd have a family, a-and I'd want a big, happy family too."

She goes on to describe her ideal future. If she couldn't be brought into a family, maybe she could make them. Maybe kids could fill the voice in her heart. Dangerous thoughts to be sure, but for the moment they make her happy. She can talk about her future family, and she can dream it's possible. She gets so lost in the fantasy; she doesn't realize what she's doing to Kylar, all this talk about children. It's not until he's on top of her that she realizes what she's done.

"You'd make a great m-mommy," he pants out. His face is red, and his eyes have glazed over in that familiar way. "You will make a great mommy."

He was nice enough to listen to her dreams, so she's happy to indulge in his own fantasies. This is love, right? This is just how he shows his love. If becoming a mommy means she'd be loved, then she could do that. At least she could pretend she'll do that, at least for now. She feels like a kid again, playing pretend, dreaming of a happy future that won't come to pass. But this time, she has someone real to play with. Isn't that nice? She isn't alone. She's loved. She isn't alone. She's loved. She isn't alone. She's loved.

His hands are much warmer this time.