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genyawritesshizz · 7 months ago

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A Hum of Time. Toshinori Yagi x Reader

Part 5

Summary: An innocent relationship between two workaholics could not possibly be that eventful. Just two individuals finding comfort within each other's company and the occasional cup of coffee. What happens when a secret that could ruin both of their careers brings the whole thing crashing down? In a heart wrenching decision, you must do what is best for all three of you and brave the future alone. Will you ever tell the truth? You might not have a choice.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

8081-word count

It's happier I promise :)

It has been six years since the incident. Any blog or post related to you had long ago been swept away into the ever-changing sea of media, buried far below, never to resurface. The name Siren was long forgotten.

Following being discharged after over two months of recovery you had changed your names and moved to the opposing coast. The opportunity for another fresh start alighted new found hope for the future. The saved money from your time as a hero and life insurance payout David had carefully pulled allowed the two of you the luxury of ease and into a mundane title of stay at home mom.

Despite everything that happened, every sacrifice made, and every sleepless night it was all well worth their price at being present to watch your boy grow. You loved him more than you had ever thought possible. A mother’s love is a force of nature, boundless and unconditional.

Even if he could be a pain at times.

Admittedly handling a four-year-old who’s temper tantrums could burst your eardrums had been one of your toughest battles. Thankful that he had inherited something of yours but also woeful for both yourself and the neighbors; He had manifested your vocal quirk.

After many replaced windows, pitiable apologize, and endless pep talks he had finally learned to somewhat control it. With his quirk and gaining of maturity came questions. He could faintly remember you as a hero all those years ago, fortunately however not much. Just that you wore an ‘awesome’ costume and got hurt.

You never told him the truth. Instead opting to lie whenever his bubbling curiosity peaked. Stating that back in the day you were simply a sidekick to some one off low tier hero. Nothing special. Just scratching the surface of heroism, that you had thrown in the towel after getting hurt all those years ago.

Not a complete lie.

Yet far from the whole truth.

This still fascinated him.

Late at night as you tucked the restless child to bed, he would beg for stories, pictures, anything from back then. Occasionally after seemingly endless hours of impetration you’d buckle to his demands, telling a watered down tale of the past. Even as you regaled the simplest of petty robberies, he looked to you like you had hung the stars in the night sky, as if you were the reason that rain fell. Big blue fascinated eyes with a wide smile filled with astonishment chanted your praises in complete and utter admiration.

“Momma is the coolest!” “Momma is the best hero!” “Momma is my hero!”

‘Momma is my hero.’

Oh, how your heart melted at his words. The giddy childlike wonder pushed any nightmarish trauma to the back recesses of your mind. Though, that did not mean it disappeared.

Haunting memories of the past always found a way to resurface.

As he grew older, near the age of six, he discovered how to use the home computer. Spending hours watching videos online of other heroes, it was only a matter of time until he inevitably stumbled upon a video of All Might. Despite your parental controls blocking the tag. Where there's a will there's a way, this kid was stubborn. Since the discovery he could not stop watching, completely enamored. The daunting words “I am here” blaring from the computer's speakers echoed with your son's delightful laughter bounced off the walls of your shared home.

Over and over.

Taunting.

Mocking.

It stung the deepest depths of your faulty heart to hear his voice day in and day out.

To watch your son fall in love with a man who too used to hold your heart…

Yet you did not have the heart nor the courage to demand he turn it off.

A particular moment replayed in your mind.

You had just come home from a quick trip to the market. Nearing the age of elven you entrusted him to stay home alone for short periods of time especially when, if provoked, he could scream loud enough for anyone clear across the city to hear. Yet when he did not meet you at the door or answer your call your stomach dropped. As you began to call for him again your words suctioned themselves to the back of your throat. A cold sweat of fear beaded on your brow.

The bathroom door was open, the light on, and a shadow moved from the door frame. The figure almost too tall to be completely seen. The shape of it alone made you shiver.

Two long strands of hair sticking up in an iconic V shape shadowed onto the hallway wall.

“All Might?” your voice quivered, graveled and raw. Foreboding dread balled into a tight knot threatening to suck you into dissociation, as if at any moment you would melt into the floor. Slowly wobbly legs moved, approaching just enough to allow a peak over in.

“That is right! FOR I AM HERE!” Your son stood atop of the bathroom counter, his fist raised and a triumphant snaggle toothed smile stretched across red blushing cheeks. A bottle of hair gel spilled out on the counter and an old relic of the past wrapped around his shoulders. The overhead light casted a deceiving shadow.

“I…” Trailing off a wide range of emotions spanning from solace to fear hinted disappointment flooded all at once. Eyes watered, yet never spilled over. The breath you held deflated.

“Don’t I look cool mom?! I look just like him! I look just like All Might!” He beamed. Turning back to the mirror to flex his small arms, striking another one of All Might's signature poses. “I can’t believe you have this! Is this really his?” His hands gripped at the fabric of the cape. The material swallowed him completely, flowing from his tiny shoulders to the floor. You had not seen it in years, not since the move.

“You...” Swallowing the lump in your throat and blinking away unshed tears, you approached. Standing behind him, your heart pounded against your chest, ragged and unsteady beats. Struggling to find words, mouth opening and closing yet no sound escaped. Voice cutting out, crackling into a depressing croak.

An everlasting symptom of that treacherous day reared its head once more. When overly emotional or speaking for too long strain on the scarred vocal cords caused them to lock up, trapping words within. Akeno’s brows furrowed, joy faltering.

“Momma?” Seeing his shifting mood sour hands quickly adjusted, signing in boisterous movements

‘You look so totally awesome, Akeno!’ His eyes stared at the signs reflected in the mirror before going wide with exhilaration, smile returning brighter than before. In one swoop your arms wrapped around his tiny waist in a tight hug. The little boy giggled in delight. With what little strength you retained you held him off of the counter, flying him around the air. Despite the burn of strain inside your abdomen and the sting within your decaying forearm muscles; you could not help but laugh with him.

After laying him to bed for the night you quickly checked under your bed for a certain set of boxes. Thankfully only one had been disturbed. Looking inside the now empty package you could still smell a faint hint of Toshinori’s cologne stained into the cardboard.

You did not have the heart to throw nor give away his cape once realizing it had accidentally been packed in your hasty retreat. The tears you had wiped away earlier returned, unabashedly spilling as stifled nostalgic memories resurfaced.

“Sorry I’m late dear. You know how it is.” Shuffled footsteps trudged through a darkened bedroom. Flipping over your met with the silhouetted figure of Toshinori, thinned fingers unclasping his cape before, In vain reaching for the zipper. Losing it in the folds of loose fabric. A small chuckle roused from your drowsy form.

“Here, let me get it.” Moving to the edge of your shared bed he turned, allowing you to unzip and undress the hefty costume from his thinning frame. Warm hands roamed the now exposed skin of his back, massaging the taught muscles beneath. Letting an exasperated groan his stiffened shoulder relaxed under nimble fingers.

“Thank you.” Humming in response digits curved upward, smoothing over protruding bones of his ribs, noting his subtle weight loss. Leaning forward to rest your forehead into the center of his back, the delectable scent of cologne still lingered on sweat slicked skin. If you had an ounce more of energy you’d fuss for him to shower, however as he turned to face you, and a hand delicately held your face within its palm all thoughts of reprimanding faded. His calloused thumb stroked at your cheek.

“Let’s go to bed.”

Together the two lovers laid within each other's arms.

‘ Maybe,

maybe I should tell him that I’m- No.

This… this was the only way.

It was the right choice. For both of them.’

Yearning for something that could never be again you stuffed the thoughts away, curling into yourself alone atop frigid sheets the phrase repeating itself.

‘This was the right choice.’

Yet it offered no reassurance.

You lied once more when your son awoke. Telling him that the cape unfortunately was not actually one of All Might’s. Instead, it was a surprise birthday gift you had bought him from a local shop. That he could keep playing with it if he was good. A bit disappointed that it was not real, Akeno still loved it, promising to be on his best behavior. He even slept with it like a blanket. Never questioning the fact that his birthday was over four months away.

Now nearing the age of fifteen Akeno had blossomed into such a handsome young man. Though, the older he became the more of him appeared. From the moment he was born with an almost translucent tuft of blonde hair you knew he would lean towards resembling his father. However, as he aged, face thinning over prominent cheekbones and jawline defining; he became the spitting image of Toshinori. A deep void of melancholy, yet also strangely a bit of pride surfaced at this realization.

As the years passed it was clear, he had chosen his path.

Just as his father and you had chosen, your child too dreamed of becoming a hero.

It scared you.

Terrified you even.

You were not the first nor would you be the last to be ‘killed’ in action. He saw the scars. How your voice crackled into stained tones, disappearing into nothingness. The endless hours of futile rehabilitation therapy. The way your body thinned from lack of fully functioning organs.

He saw the possible dangers, yet still dreamed of it.

And if this is what he truly wanted you would support him no matter what.

‘It’s what good mothers do.’

So, when on the verge of graduating middle school, and he came to you with a flyer from an all too familiar school you had to swallow your fear and agree to let him at least try.

“I like this kid's style. Just like me when I was that age!” Present Mic gushed, watching as this year's group of contestants fought through the first wave of robotic opponents. Only five minutes into the entrance exam and already Akeno had hit the ground running. Screeching his way through metallic foes in hopes of scoring enough points, he had already landed himself on the leaderboard.

All Might watched from his swivel chair, remaining silent, focused on his own protege. His new coworkers banter lost on inattentive ears.

“Looks like Mic’s got a favorite already.” Midnight laughed, her hands held up and over her head as she too watched. “He’s doing well so far, may even have a shot at passing. Though not sure any of us could handle two screaming blondes.” Now this snagged a bit of the symbol's attention.

His eyes flitted away from Midoriya’s screen, glancing to the other. Watching with bated interest until a small spark of familiarity struck within him.

‘Odd.’ He could not quite put his finger on it nor shake the sensation. ‘Have we met before? Perhaps on the train or maybe at a grocery store?’ No no, it was not that. If not that then where? What was it about this boy that stuck out to him?

Maybe it was the vibrant blond hair? It was not an uncommon thing, in fact some of the other contestants had wildly outlandish colored hair. Had he saved him before? Had he met him at a meet and greet?

He would have to ponder this another time. For now, his main concern was Midoriya’s lack of points. Retreating to refocus on his successor the test continued.

In the end your son had placed fairly high on the exam, landing him a guaranteed spot at UA. The decision was final.

You are going back to Japan.

“I’m not a child anymore mom.”

“I know I know, you're a perfectly capable young man. But I'm not about to let you move across the world by yourself.” Finished packing the last of your boxes, now awaiting for the international movers to arrive. Akeno leaned against the doorframe. “Besides, you’ll be living in student housing, so you’ll have plenty of alone time.” Turning to the disgruntled boy and bringing a hand up, you ruffled the top of his head. “But remember, I’ll always be just a short drive away!”

He sighed in defeat, eyes turned away from your hopeful smile. It’s not that he did not want you there, but that he needed to be sure his boundaries were set. He needed space to grow.

The entire flight you could not help but fidget with the hemline of your sleeved shirt. It’s been fifteen years since you’ve been back…

Would people recognize you?

You were in a different neighborhood, far away from your old house and even farther than the shared apartment. Yet Japan was only so big, hence the move in the first place, but surely after so long you would have nothing to worry about. Last time you were here you were in your mid twenties, now you are on the doorstep of fifty. With patches of gray, new wrinkles, more than a few scars, and gaunt thinning your appearance had become almost unrecognizable. But wha-

“Are you excited to be back?” Akeno had noticed your nervous movements, nothing lost to such attentive eyes. Taking out one of his headphones he turned to you. “I know it’s been a while.”

“Yes of course I am.” reaching a hand over, you placed it over his atop the armrest, squeezing the larger palm.

“Care if I listen too?” You could hear the cello thump as the beginning of Madame Butterfly chimed through his headphones. He smiled back, even if he could sense the unwavering unease and the blatant fake smile, he said nothing, handing over the removed bud.

The two of you hummed quietly to music until the moon overtook the sun. His head lolled down atop your shoulder as sleep overtook him.

No matter how old he got or how grown up he was he would always be your sweet boy.

“There, this should last you the week.” Packing the last of the homemade bento boxes into the fridge you had made sure to wrap each one in your signature bunny eared bow. A significant downscale compared to your usual outlandishly adorable packaging. “I made your favorite.”

“You do know that they have a cafeteria, right?” Scoffing at Akeno’s remark and standing from bent within the refrigerator your eyes steeled.

“Oh, so you don’t like your mothers cooking anymore huh? Guess I’ll have to eat this all myself.” Reaching back, you began taking the packages out.

“NO! Please! I was kidding! I love your cooking mom. Please leave it.” Panicked eyes widened and a bottom lip quivered in a desperate plea. A hardy laugh pushed through teasingly smirked lips.

“I suppose I’ll let you keep it.”

“Thank you!” Your son's voice returned to its natural cheery tone. Though higher in pitch, alighted with excitement. “Mom there’s something I have to tell you”

Your eyebrows rouse, quickly leave the small kitchenette to join him on the couch. His eyes locked onto yours, swimming with childlike admiration.

“All Might is going to be one of my teachers!” He beamed a wide toothy grin, almost a mirror of the aforementioned hero. You mentally felt yourself deflate like a popped balloon, exhaling as if all the wind had been knocked free. “ Isn’t that awesome?! ” He let out a boisterous laugh.

The smile, the laugh, the hair and those big blue eyes. He truly was the spitting image of that man. You felt weak, hands wet and clammy, stomach turning with queasiness, heart thumping against your chest.

“Mom? Are you okay?” Snapping out of your daze you quickly put on a brave face once again, taking a deep breath and nodding.

“Of course I am! I’m so happy for you ho-'' Your voice chipped and shattered, becoming a harsh croak. Moving to sign the remaining. ‘I am very happy for you! Tell the big man I said hi!’ His eyes tracked each symbol, smile never faltering, used to the use of sign language throughout the years he rejoiced at your admiration with a laugh. Joining him in his laughter, even though yours was nothing more than rushed air and out of nervousness.

“I’m finally going to meet him!”

Today was the day. Akeno's first day of school. Though you weren't there to see him off you made sure to send him a lengthy text of encouragement.

Mom: Have an amazing first day of school my baby! High school is a journey filled with excitement, challenges, and countless opportunities. Please remember no matter what happens I’ll always be here for you! Remember to be yourself and have fun! Send me pictures in uniform!

In response all he had sent back was a thumbs up.

All Might stood behind a corner of a building, watching the first year students endure Mr. Aizawa’s quirk assessment test. Again, fearing for young Midoriya, he knew the boy had little to know control of the quirk he had bestowed upon him. Yet he remained hopeful.

What he had not expected was to find himself staring at another boy from the class.

It was the screeching kid that Mic and Midnight made comments about during the entrance exam that once again nagged at his curiosity. He felt something indescribable when looking at the boy. The familiar feeling from before returned with a vengeance. Scrambling through hazed memories, he again tried to place the boy within the vast archive.

“Akeno, it’s your turn.” Aizawa instructed the class to throw the ball as far as they could using their quirks. Simple enough, several other students had already gone, one even managed to score an infinite. Picking it up, Akeno wound his arm back and launched it. Quite average in all sense of the word, yet midair at its peak his mouth opened, and the sheer wind power behind his yell propelled the ball soaring through the air; Higher and higher until the sound waves could no longer carry it.

‘Oh’…

A shiver ran cold down his wide muscular back. The pitch entered his ears yet sank like a rock in his stomach.

‘Just like her.’

God Damit he could not do this right now.

These ridiculous thoughts brought him nothing but heartache and were quickly shoved into the overflowing filing cabinets inside his mind. Hopefully lost within the jumbled mess forever. It had taken the better half of three years to finally put a lid on the pandora's box that once was you. To backslide now was out of the question.

Rationalize.

Quickly erasing the correlation from his mind with the same cold hard truth he had to continually tell himself anytime a memory of you resurfaced; You were dead .

‘Vocal quirks are not a rare occurrence. This boy was not you. In fact, he looks more like…OH! Stop it Toshinori’ He mentally slapped himself. ‘Focus.’

It was Izuku’s turn to throw the ball. A perfect distraction and an opportunity for his ludicrous mind to get a grip.

Amazed by his pupils' success, the threat of his psyche collapsing was stabilized.

Lunch time had finally arrived, overworked and exhausted from their first half of the day each kid flooded the bustling halls. The first week finally reaching its midpoint.

“Can I sit with you guys?” Akeno stood before the trio, bento box in hand, admittedly he was a bit bashful at the thought of his classmates seeing the cutesy bow tied cloth covering yet his need for socializing trumped all.

“Yeah, for sure!”

“Absolutely!” Midoriya and Ururaka ever the kind and social souls smiled, scooting over to allow him to sit. Iida smiled and greeted his classmate from across the table.

The group made small talk, the main three discussing the woes of upcoming exams and the prompts of Mr. Present Mics writing assignments. Proclaiming that it was far too early to be assigning such tasks. Being the kind soul Akeno had grown into, he offered his assistance with the English class. Seeing as he was exempt from taking it due to already being fluent.

“Oh yeah, I almost forgot that you are an exchange student, your Japanese is almost perfect!” Uraraka proclaimed, eyes gleaming with curiosity.

“Yeah! For only living here for less than a month, your Japanese is amazing. I can barely even hear an ascent!” Izuku added, praising his friend. Questions of the states filled his mind. His mentor had made his debut in America, based all of his costumes and merchandise around their flag and even named all of his moves after its states. He too dreamed of one day traveling and experiencing its wonders. Storing his curiosity, he made a mental note to ask later.

“Well, my mom is originally from Japan. She’s been teaching me Japanese since I first started talking. It’s like second nature.” Akeno chuckled, a shy hand brushing down the spiky blond tips on his neck. Refocused on the topic of travel the group buzzed with excitement.

However as soon as Akeno unwrapped the ribbon and unboxed his bento the conversation steered in a much different direction. A mouth watering scent filled the surrounding area.

“That's so cute! Did you make it yourself? It smells so good! How did you get the fruit into such perfect stars?” Uraraka gushed at the culinary work of art that was her new friend's lunch. Even the grandeur that was offered via the cafeteria paled in comparison, nothing could beat a mother's love.

Again, you had toned down the cuteness of his lunches considerably since he was a child. However, that did not stop you from arranging it with as much passion as you could. It was simple, yet had protein, light carbs, healthy sugars and lots of veggies!

Akeno felt his cheeks redden. Not that he was ashamed, he was grateful to have a mother so caring however he’s a grown man now! And grown men don’t need bows or ribbons or star shaped fruit.

“My mom made it for me.” He mumbled, shying away from their surely scrutinizing gaze, they’ll think he's a sniffling little ‘mommas' boy.’

“Truly moving to see such a loving display!” Iida’s chest swelled with pride for his fellow classmate.

“Maybe your mom could make me one of those!” Uraraka laughed along with Midoriya

“She’s right, it does look amazing!” He agreed. Shocked, Akeno took note of his new friend's approval. He may have to ask a favor of you later.

Akeno loved each day of class, he thrived and excelled. His passion growing stronger yet. With the announcement of the UA sports festival on the horizon he readied himself to go beyond, ‘ plus ultra ’ as his idle, now teacher, would say. As the bell rang and Mr. Aizawa dismissed the class, he gathered his belongings and waited for his friend.

Himself, Iida, Uraraka, and Izuku had grown quite close. Always sticking together when it came to field exercises, study sessions and relaxing at lunch. Your son always came home boasting about how amazing each and every one of his friends were. It brought your motherly heart such joy to see him thriving.

As the halls emptied due to the final bell chiming the group chatted in a more serious tone. Uraraka had confessed that she wanted to be a hero for profit. Initially seeming slightly selfish, as she delved deeper into the reasoning the notion was rectified. Quickly reassuring her that she was noble for wanting to help her family, the group divulged their own causes.

“What about you Akeno, why do you want to be a hero?” Midoriya asked, curious as ever.

“My mom was almost killed by a villain; she was a hero too. I don’t remember much since I was just a little kid, but I know the pain she went through. The years of suffering she had to endure. It’s my life mission to never allow something like that to happen to anyone else!” The young man wore a face of pure determination, his chest swelled with righteousness and a smile stretched across his face.

“That’s an amazing reason Akeno!” Uraraka beamed, her cheeks swelled with pink, and eyes shined with admiration.

“Truly an exceptional motive, you have my commendation!” Iida bowed, truly inspired. Proud to be the class representative of such a dedicated and selfless individual. Izuku simply stared as the blond laughed and kicked out a thumbs up. Green eyes widening at the action.

“When you do that face you kind of look like All Might!” Uraraka chuckled, taking the words straight from Izuku’s imagination. Inside her mind images of the two blondes striking various poses together managed to tint her cheeks darker. ‘So cute!’

“She’s right! Could’ve fooled me” Midoriya laughed, though a hint of nervousness laced the chuckle. The more he looked at his friend the more he could see his mentor in him. A flitting image sparked in his mind, though was overshadowed. ‘Strange.’

Akeno simply laughed with them, happy to be compared to his idol.

“Today we will be practicing search and rescue to prepare you for your visit to the USJ simulation. Just the basics as we’ve discussed over the week.” The under enthused tone of Mr. Aizawa droned to the antsy group of young heroes before him. Laid out before them was a near perfect replica of Jaku City. However, the once proud standing skyscraper lay in disarray. Debris and rubble littered the streets. “Scattered around the city you will find several victims; your goal is to safely remove them from the situation without traumatizing them.” shooting a glare toward his most bain student the simulation commenced.

Racing into the disaster the trainees began implementing their teachings. All without a hitch until a young boy was discovered. Screaming and flailing away from any physical contact he laid inconsolable.

“Hey little guy, it's okay. Everything will be fine, com-” As Deku attempted to approach he again cried out slinking away as a gloved hand reached for him.

“I don’t know what's wrong, he won't respond to anything we say.” Confused and afraid of failing, Momo began to panic. Running to the group, Akeno assessed the situation.

While inspecting the child from a distance his eyes landed on his hands. Small nubbed pointer fingers extended and repeatedly jabbed together. Recognition flashed through his mind. Crouching before the boy, making no attempt to touch him, he waved. Red puffy eyes looked at him and again fingers jabbed together. Akeno’s gloved hand raised, his pointer finger zig zagged in the air and replicated the child’s jabbing motion, ‘where does it hurt?’ Recognizing the signs the boy pointed to his leg. With one palm flat and the other in a thumbs up position atop it Akeno moved it towards the child, ‘let me help you.’ Sucking up his sniffles the child nodded, arms extended out, allowing the hero to pick him up.

His fellow classmates watched in confused awe.

“What was that?” Ururaka inquired as the bell chimed, signaling the end of the simulation.

“He was signing ‘pain’. I just asked him where he was hurt and that I wanted to help him.”

“You know sign language too?”

“Ha yeah, another thing my mom taught me.”

The young man had a surprise for his friends.

You had agreed to make them lunch! How could you resist such an offer?

‘It's what a good mom would do.’

Though it came at a cost. Defiantly holding the bundle of boxes above your head your face held determination.

“If you want it, make me give it to you.”

“Mom! You know I'm not good at this”

“Only way you're going to get better is if you practice, ya know it took me years to perfect it!” You countered, if he had inherited your quirk, it was almost for certain he too could use ‘the command’. Just had to concentrate. Besides, if he truly did not want to try, he towered over you, making it easy to simply take it.

Staring at the bag he focused, breathing in deeply his first attempt a near whisper.

“Did you even activate your quirk? Try again.”

“ Hand me the bag .” Loud sound waves nearly had you dropping it, not out of command but from sheer force pummeling your ear canal as he screamed it.

“Nuh uh, that's cheating. Look at me, focus. Take in the surroundings, feel the air move through your vocal cords, find the right pitch and push the sound into my ears. Again.”

“ Hand me th e bag” Fog overtook your vision for a few seconds, regaining full consciousness you saw both hands extended towards him. Yet the bag still remained firmly in your grip.

“Close enough! Good job Akeno” Dropping the package into expecting hands the boy scurried off. One day he’d master the ability, just needed time and practice.

As the lunch bell rang Akeno called out to the trio, having the group gather around his desk. Reaching into his backpack he pulled out the treasure.

“NO WAY!” Uraraka held her own personalized bento box in hand, your son had mentioned her favor of pink, and you couldn’t help but run with it. An adorable checkered pink fabric covered the box with an elegantly tied bow.

“Thank you so much, please tell your mom I said thank you!” Midoriya’s was of course wrapped in green.

“From me as well!” Iida’s was a beautiful shade of blue.

As the group happily strolled to the cafeteria a looming figure waited before pouncing out from behind a corner.

“Young Midoriya! Would you like to have lunch with me?”

“Uh well, thank you All Might but I-” A firm punch to his arm cut the nervous boy off. Akeno stared at his friend, an eyebrow raised and eyes wide.

“You cannot pass up an opportunity to have lunch with All Might!” He forcefully whispered.

“But your mom-”

“Don’t worry about it!” Sighing in dejection he agreed before rushing to his mentor's side and waving goodbye to his friends. He’d have to properly apologize for missing such a special lunch afterwards.

Sitting across from his pupil All Might skeptically eyed the elegantly tied box. As Midoriya began unwrapping it Toshinori felt a deep pang of nostalgia. From the layout to the smell, even to the encouraging message on the sticky note it felt all too familiar.

“Hey! You forgot your lunch, so I thought I’d swing by to drop it off.” Standing in the doorway of your once shared office with a wrapped box of bento you stared over the mountainous stacks of paper to your beloved blond. “I was wondering if you’d like to share it with me?”

Darkened hues glanced up from their sheet, only for a few seconds before returning to his work.

“Thank you, but I’m a little busy right now.” Not yet defeated, you approached the desk.

“I could help you out if you want, I don’t mind.”

“No, it’s fine. Besides I think Mei is all caught up with your work, no need to stay here all day.” Mei, a name you had come to regard with disdain. The woman he had hired to help ‘ease your workload’ brought a bitter taste to your tongue.

“I could wait until you’re done.”

“I won’t be done for a while, please go back home love. I’ll be back later tonight.”

With lips drawn tight and eyes swimming with animosity you exited, not another word shared.

An agonizing growl of hunger hours later finally forced himself away from the still looming stack. Opening the box and bristling in delight at its aroma he scarfed down as much as his decayed stomach could hold. Placing the lid back atop the container his heart ached at seeing the message scribed sticky note attached.

‘Don’t work too hard! I love you! ’

Truth be told Toshinori did not want you to leave, longing for nothing more than to enjoy the meal together. Yet the ever surging rate of crime due to his limited time left him breakless, charging full steam ahead into his work. Darring a glance to his computer's clock, more time than he had anticipated flew by, 11:42pm.

‘I’ll make it up to her.’

He never was able to.

“Where did you get that?” His voice low and graveled, baritone edging into a bass. Shadows darkening overhead, concealing steeled blue.

He knew it was foolish to relish in such nostalgia however, if he must be plagued, he was at least grateful it is of happier times.

“Oh, Akeno’s mom made it for me. She made all of us lunch!”

‘Akeno’s mom?’ The older man pondered. ‘ Who is she? What does Midoriya know about this woman? What is her name? W- STOP. This is pathetic. It’s just a bento box. Anyone can cook katsu.’ Clearing his throat he nodded.

“That was nice of her.”

Folding a freshly dried pile of clothes you sat within your living room, absentmindedly listening to the local news reporter drone on about the most recent activity within the city. However, the flash and sudden switch to a different reporter piqued your interest. Placing the shirt down and adjusting the volume, pure horror sparked as realization of the man’s words took hold.

“Breaking News: There is said to be an active villain attack at UA’s training facility the U.S.J, Class 1-A students are trapped inside!”

Teleported via warp gate Akeno found himself plummeting into the ocean biome. With only a brief second to grasp the situation he inhaled and braced for impact before diving into the treacherous waters.

The sting of salt blurred his vision yet through the blur he managed to catch the movement of a finned fist, miraculously dodging he struggled to notate his surroundings. Spotting a green blob floating just below, he hoped his assumptions were correct on who it was. Propelled by sound waves he pushes the foe away and himself closer to his classmate. Grabbing ahold of him Akeno releases another shriek thrusting them further away from the swarming thugs.

He cannot keep this up.

Lack of oxygen was beginning to take hold; dots spotted his vision. Despite the burn within his chest, he pushed himself to go further. Finally reaching something solid and using the last gusts of air within his lungs he again propelled them. Rushing upward, they broke the water's surface.

Crashing down onto the hardwood deck Akeno hacked, choking on air, desperate to soothe the burn deep within his chest. However, the gurgle of trapped water prevented any mediation. Even with air all around him, It felt as though he was drowning. His chest felt encumbered. Panicked Midoriya gripped his shoulders and turned his friend onto his side. Rubbing and pounding at his back, finally liquid sputtered out with each cough.

“Is he okay?” Tsuyu emerged from the water, leaping onto the ship, tongue wrapped around a squirming Mineta.

“We need to get out of here, he needs a doctor.” Listening to his friends' short shallow breaths sent Izuku’s mind ablaze. Though he had successfully forced most of the water out, residual liquid still crackled within.

Scared for not only his but also his friends' lives, they needed a plan.

“The pros will save us! Right? They’ll come and beat these guys up and we’ll all be safe.” Mineta panicked, the weight of the situation finally dawning on the perverse trainee. Conversing over exactly what had been said during the initial attack coupled with the situation, Tsu and Deku both knew waiting for the pro’s was not an option.

“We have to stop whatever these bad guys are planning!”

Realizing the flaw in the villain's thwarted plan Midoriya formulated a course of action. Wrapped within Tsu’s tongue and flung through the air via the force of Midoriya’s flick, the group managed to fool and evade the attackers.

Following the shore to avoid the peering eyes of foes swimming closer to the main plaza the exit was within sight. Akeno’s body trembled within his classmate's grasp, struggling to stand, and barely holding onto consciousness. Mr. Aizawa’s battle raged on, their teachers' struggle growing louder as the group approached.

How much longer would he hold out?

A sickening crunch echoed as a monstrous beast's fists crashed down onto their teacher's defeated body, his arms twisting into splintered fractures. Fear spiraled down their spines as the young students could do nothing but observe.

“I can't watch this anymore.” Tears streamed down Mineta’s face as he clutched both hands over his mouth, trying not to puke at the gruesome sight. “We should be getting out of here super fast shouldn’t we?”

Horrified Midoriya glanced from his beaten teacher to his half conscious friend. The once confident persona adopted for escaping the ship now shattered. Internal conflict had him paralyzed.

‘To be a hero you have to put others above yourself.’

The mantra repeated itself over and over within his head. Though, what was he to do now? Two people needed him: Akeno and Mr. Aizawa. They were both in life threatening condition.

Yet… he could not bring himself to choose which one to try to save.

“Oh, before we leave. Let's make sure the symbol of peace is broken.” In an instant the main villain lunged, barreling straight towards their group. “Let's make this hurt! You look too much like him, disgusting. Don’t worry I can fix that.” With a palm extended he advanced, mere centimeters away from Akeno’s face. The group's breaths stalled within their chest, unable to move...

Yet, he stopped, halting dead in his tracks.

His once hate filled eyes glossed over, the red hue now dull and empty.

Mouth agape in shock Midoriya looked to the boy that clung to him.

Akeno’s head was up, his eyes staring towards the villain, mouth moving yet the words inaudible.

“Leave us alone.”

Hushed whispers rushed through the air, directly to their target. Forced in and demanding obedience the command took hold.

Backing away the villain retreated, up the stairs in a disconnected stupor until reuniting with the warp gate.

“What the hell was that!” As Shigaraki’s senses returned, anger boiled within his voice, eyes wide and fingers digging into the skin of his throat. Nails raked over the bloodied irritated skin. “No, no,no,n-” The slam of once sealed doors drew his attention away.

The man they had been waiting for finally arrived.

“Have no fear students. Why? Because I Am Here.”

Faster than the puny thugs could process, All Might swung into action. At last, the young heroes' fears came to rest as they watched the world symbol of peace dispatch of each and every evil doer within his path. Crossing the battle field within seconds he swiftly scooped a beaten Aizawa within his arms and grabbed the group of frightened children. The jarring motion of being flung around sent Akeno into a fit of hacking. His body heaved against the muscular arm, blood splattering against the white button up.

Seeing his colleague and student so injured fueled Toshinori’s already raging inferno. Gritted into a tight frown, his teeth ground together.

‘I should have been here; I should have protected them.’

“Everybody back to the entrance, take Aizawa and Akeno with you. They don’t have much time.” Again, plagued by indecision Izuku again looked between the injured men then back to his mentor. His intuition screamed for him to stay and help All Might, to fight by his side. Based on what Thirteen had indicated before training All Might must be near his limit, leaving him vulnerable. Yet his heart yearned to get them to safety.

Once again, the decision was left in his hands, who does he try to save? Taking notice of his prodigy's indecision, All Might addressed him.

“Young Midoriya! I got this!”

“Right.” At his master's words, Izuku tightened his grip around his classmate while Tsu held Mr. Aizawa, they ran away. Not fully assured the nagging thought of being the soul bearer of All Might’s limit and the danger truly at hand made up his mind. Seeing other classmates racing down to the exit he laid Akeno down.

“Tsu and Mineta, take Mr. Aizawa and Akeno to the entrance, I have to go back.”

“What? Are you crazy? We can't hold both of them! Besides All Might has this handled, we have to go!” Before the grape themed trainees' words even registered, Deku ran past them and back to the ensuing fight.

The battle with the monstrous ‘Nomu’ had the man exhausted. Barely clinging onto his mighty form, All Might’s body trembled in exhaustion. All he had to do was stall and keep up the mirage.

Shots firing and the overly jovial voice of principal Nezu signaled his relief had finally arrived.

“I'm sorry ma’am but I can't let you in. The school is under strict lockdown procedures!” The police standing guard in front of the gates had attempted several times to reassure the grief stricken woman into leaving. Yet you refused.

‘You have to! My son was in the attack! He could be hurt.’ hands quickly signed, yet they could not understand nor make an attempt to. Growing agitated they ordered you to back away. Even when attempting to mouth words of reason their resolve stood firm.

The crackle of a speaker and flicker of a screen caught their attention. A small mouse-like creature's face lit the device. Principal Nezu’s beady eyes and smile stared down to them. His paws placed one over the other, a steaming cup of tea sat atop his desk. Analyzing the situation with a sip of his beverage, he addressed them.

“You must be Akeno’s mother. Please come in.” Metal unlocked and the screech of a singular entrance opening rattled through the once impenetrable wall of steel, an elderly woman stood within its threshold. Her wrinkled features offered a warm smile, as she ushered you in. Despite her cheery attitude the cloud of despair that formulated upon hearing the news refused to dissipate.

You needed to see him, to know that he was okay.

“Right this way dear,” Leading you down the winding corridors, her syringe shaped cane clacked against the tiled floor. Its steady rhythm a direct contrast to the thunderous beat of your heart. Stopping just outside a door labeled as the infirmary your anxiety overflowed. Eyes watered as tears gathered on the rims and a few slipping by.

Gesturing for you to wait she sighed, “I healed him as much as I could, but the boy needs rest. He almost drowned today.” Wiping away the tears you nodded, attempting a brave face yet your mind swam with regrets.

‘He almost drowned? Almost died?! … We've been here less than two months and already he's had a brush with death. Was allowing him to come here truly for the best? What kind of mother am I for willingly putting him in danger? I knew the risks. How could I allow this? How could I…’

“Come.”

Half of the room had been sectioned off by drawn curtains, blocking the other patients from view. Light whispers shared between the two males fell silent once you had entered.

Upon seeing Akeno false bravery slid away and tears fell once more.

Rimmed with darkness his eyes remained closed with heavy breaths as he slept within the white sheeted hospital bed.

‘My baby’

Toshinori and Izuku laid beyond the thin curtain wall, both watching as the silhouetted woman stood before her son.

A shadowed hand reached for the boy, tenderly stroking his cheek before her head bowed to rest against his. Rushed breaths and sniffles indicated her distress as she wept.

An endless pit of anguish at both the situation and himself opened within the older man's heart. Sighing he looked away from the scene, up towards the white ceiling, and an unbandaged arm fell over his eyes. Afflicted by guilt any curiosity regarding the young man's mother vanquished, weighed down with the burden of responsibility.

“I should have been there sooner.” His voice barely above a breathed whisper, more so a taunt to himself. Yet within the otherwise silent room it carried through.

Your sobs stalled for a mere millisecond as recognition sparked fear into your aching heart.

You could recognize Toshinori’s voice anywhere.

‘Not here. Please not here. He can't be here. Not now.’

Trying to muffle the ragged sobs your body struggled to stand. Hunched and breaking you held your son's hand, squeezing it tightly to stay grounded. Heartaching for both the man beyond the curtain and your beloved child, your mind felt hazy, far too many emotions swarmed within.

“Ma’am?” An unfamiliar voice called out to you.

Peeking his head out from behind the curtain walls, Izuku had forgone Recovery Girl’s orders. Saddened and riddled with his own guilt he felt compelled to speak to the grieving woman. Your back remained turned towards him, yet your head lifted slightly in acknowledgment. “Akeno saved my life. He protected me and our classmates. You should be proud of him.”

‘Proud that my son almost got himself killed? Proud that I allowed him into this lethal field? Proud that my son… saved people?’

For a split second your head turned, facing the boy. ‘Akeno risked his life to save him?’ A bittersweet smile splayed across quivering lips. Izuku’s eyes widened, recollection though brief flashed within his mind.

You looked familiar…

Mouthing the words ‘Thank you.’ you turned back.

“I thought I said rest!” Recovery Girl had returned. Infuriated to see her patient in direct violation of her orders, her cane raised ready to wallop. Slinging the curtain back into place Izuku rushed back into his bed, though his mind swirled in confusion at what he had seen, or at least what he thought he saw. Recalling his stockpile of memories in an attempt to place exactly where he recognized that woman from, However, the after effects of Recovery Girl's quirk had his eyelids heavy. Dropping down, mind clouded and unclear sleep took hold before he could reminisce further.

Sitting beside your son's bed you awaited his awakening despite the ever looming presence of a man you had vowed to forsaken mere feet away. Azure eyes opened, hazed and confused they glanced around the unfamiliar room before locking onto you. His mouth opened yet only strained groans escaped. Blond brows furrowed as he continued to struggle, croaking crackled words. Quickly raising your hand you signed;

‘Don’t speak, you’re hurt.’ Nodding his own hands rose from under the sheets.

‘Did we win?’ A silent airy laugh escaped your lips, tears long since dried out. Rubbing his forearm with a soothing hand you comforted him with a nod.

Though the lighthearted mood soon turned stern.

‘You almost died, Akeno.’ Eyes downdrawn he stared at the white bedding. Hands fidgeting for a few moments, desperately trying to find the right words, until they steadied. Blond brows furrowed and lips drew into a tight line.

‘I did what I had to. To protect my friends.’ Sighing, you bent down, kissing the top of his forehead and ruffling a hand through his wild blond locks. Wrapping his arms around his mother the two embraced.

‘I know and I’m proud of you.’

#fanfic #all might #all might x reader #angst #mha all might #mha all might x reader #tw depressing stuff #bnha fanfiction #bnha x reader #boku no hero academia #original character #original child character #x reader

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stayxlix · 1 year ago

Text

off the deep end. (06)

~(part six) the echoes of loss ~

pairing: rebel!felix x reader (f)

genre: non-idol au, post-apocalypse/dystopian au. wc: 20.8k

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

chapter warnings: violent mature themes, explicit sexual content (consensual, unprotected sex, oral sex (f receiving), dom/sub themes), mentions of murder/death, oppressive government, fighting, weaponry (gunfire, knife use), injury, blood, vivid descriptions of nightmares, language, major angst as always, please lmk if i missed any!!

a/n: thank you all so much for your patience and continued support, it really does keep this story alive.<3 as always any feedback, likes, and reblogs are more appreciated than you know. i've been feeling a lil nervous to post this (what else is new lol) but im so happy to finally be able to share it with you. i hope you enjoy this one, its a bit of a doozy.♡♡

~series masterlist~

“Things become sweeter after they have been lost. When I finally grasped what I'd so desperately yearned for, it was turned to dust in my hands. And a small part of my mind remembers an alternate pattern of events, before I opened my eyes and returned to cold embrace of a reality in which I never truly belonged.”

Swallowed by darkness, he's stumbling backward but he isn't going anywhere. His mind isn't working correctly, isn't processing. His knees hit the ground and he closes his eyes but he can still see them. Misshapen faces, their expressions warped, disfigured, as they look through him. Right down to where the remorse festers in his guilt-ridden soul. He's delirious, on the verge of flight or fight. His chest constricts as he takes in shallow breaths. He tries to speak, to beg for their forgiveness. Yet its as if his lips have been sewn shut, his tongue far too heavy to move.

Instead, they speak to him in distorted voices that swell as he covers his ears. And suddenly they're reaching out, clamping icy fingers around his throat, pulling his hair, clawing deep scratches into his skin. They ask if he remembers their faces, what he's done to them, but how could he forget? Don't they know he carries it with him? Don't they know how it haunts him? He recoils, he fights to break free, but its no use. It never is. Even as his eyes wrench open, their grip lingers. A permanent reminder that they’re a part of him, and they always will be. Waiting for him there in the shadows every time he dares to close his eyes.

With a sudden jolt, his body shot upright from the hard wooden floor, covered in cold sweat that sent a shiver coursing through his frame. A shuddering exhale fell from his lips as he ran a trembling hand through his hair. A single tear traced a silent path down his cheek—a physical manifestation of the nightmare.

He blinked, taking in his surroundings.

Shadows danced across the walls as the faint glow of the moon filtered in through the boarded window above his head. As his breathing steadied, his focus began to sharpen. There, around him, lie the slumbering forms of his friends, his soul mates, the only people in the world he could trust. Each was nestled in their own corner of the room, soundly asleep, their tranquil faces untouched by the horrors that plagued his own mind.

And then, he glanced down to his side, to the figure closest to him.

You stirred, a slight pout forming on your lips as if your subconscious had somehow sensed his absence. His fingers twitched as he watched the slow, steady rhythm of your chest, and an unconscious urge fell over him to reach out and touch you. To reassure himself that this was real.

That you were real.

He eased his aching body back down onto the floor. You shifted closer, instinctively reaching out for him, and he welcomed the warmth of your touch.

Felix knew he’d have no chance at falling asleep again tonight, the clutches of the nightmare having left their mark on his consciousness. It was routine. He was used to it. So he lie there, still and contemplative, as his eyes trained to the ceiling. And it was in moments like these that his mind often drifted, the quiet solitude granting him the opportunity to reflect on his past and the individuals that had shaped his present.

Felix was born into a life stripped of control. He gritted his teeth when the devil’s symbol was seared into his back. He took lives when commanded—some innocent, some not—but he did it without question because it was all he’d ever been taught to do. Like second nature, he had grown numb to its weight. And in a twisted way, the sense of control that taking a life brought had become addicting to Felix. A fleeting illusion of power in a world where he’d always had none.

By the time Felix met Bang Chan, he had forgotten what it meant to be human, if he had ever truly known at all. He walked through life with a detached numbness. A hollow vessel, weighed down by the gravity of his sins. When Felix met Bang Chan, he had all but lost his soul. However it quickly became clear that Chan, despite being just a few years older than Felix, possessed the ability to help him find it again.

With the wisdom of someone far beyond his age, Chan became a guiding light for Felix. He instilled in Felix a moral compass, and although it might have been a broken compass that didn't function correctly all the time, at least it was there. At least Chan was there, to guide Felix back whenever the needle threatened to point in the wrong direction.

And so, in time, with Chan by his side Felix gradually came to realize that despite the desolation around them, despite the horrible things he had done in his life and the monsters who had forced him to do them, there would always be things worth fighting for.

Things worth fighting for, and people worth believing in.

Felix had never come across anyone with such innate passion for survival, until he crossed paths with Seo Changbin. A force to be reckoned with, Changbin was unapologetically himself. A fiercely loyal companion who challenged Felix to push beyond his limits—both physically and mentally. Changbin was the flame that reignited Felix's spirit, and through his unwavering support, Felix gathered the strength to keep moving forward no matter how hopeless things may seem.

Felix had never been particularly fond of loud noises, until he heard Han Jisung fill an empty space with laughter for the first time. In Jisung’s presence, Felix often found himself caught in fleeting moments where he could allow himself to be young, to feel free. He gained new experiences through Jisung, who had a way of weaving captivating stories and spinning enchanting tales that demanded the attention of everyone around him. Even if it was no secret among the group that many of Jisung's stories were fabrications, born from his own need to conceal the burdens he carried, that didn’t stop Felix from hanging on to every word. And sometimes, on sleepless nights when the lines between nightmare and reality blurred, when he felt himself slipping away again, Felix would replay those stories in his mind. He would imagine himself in Jisung’s place instead, and it helped.

Felix had never truly grasped the fragile nature of human life, until he was introduced to Lee Minho. Despite his awareness of Minho's skills as a trained healer, Felix was more than hesitant to let the boy from District 9 treat his wounds. His body bore a map of faded scars. Every mark served as a permanent reminder of the cruel nature of the world that had shaped him. The idea of relinquishing control, even to someone as capable as Minho, ignited a fire of reluctance within Felix. And so, instead of accepting his help, Felix chose to let his own cuts bleed as he observed Minho tend to the wounds of his companions. Countless times, he watched Minho’s patient hands move with a touch so delicate it was unlike anything he had ever witnessed before.

But this wasn't the only reason that Felix found himself drawn to Minho's presence. Because Felix came to realize that beyond his remarkable ability to mend physical wounds, Lee Minho also possessed a unique understanding of the intricacies of the human heart.

In Minho's company, Felix didn’t feel the need to maintain a facade of unyielding strength the same way he did with Chan. And whereas Jisung introduced Felix to fleeting moments of happiness, Minho taught Felix that it was okay to feel like he didn’t deserve them—that grappling with his self worth didn't make him weaker. Minho's impact on shaping his sense of self was profound. And it was because of this that Felix, who had entered the world without an identity, eventually came to find comfort in embracing Minho's surname as his own.

Lee Felix found himself captivated by the bond shared between Kim Seungmin and Yang Jeongin, a testament to the strength that comes from placing unwavering trust in another human being. Their connection stirred a repressed longing within Felix for a similar closeness, and Seungmin’s patient demeanor granted Felix the freedom to achieve it. To open up at his own pace, to learn to navigate the delicate art of trust on his terms. Seungmin asked questions with genuine interest, but he didn’t pry, he didn’t judge, and so he and Felix were quick to develop a bond of their own built on the steady foundation of mutual respect.

In Jeongin, Felix witnessed an innocence that he himself had been denied. Throughout his life, Felix had grown accustomed to the way others regarded him. Those he had targeted as victims consistently bore the same expressions of fear. And among the boys, despite their best efforts to conceal it, there was always an undertone of pity in their eyes when they looked to Felix.

But when Felix met Jeongin's eyes, he saw no traces of fear or pity behind them. Instead, he saw genuine admiration. And although the role of mentorship was not something Felix had ever sought, it was in the youngest member of the group that he discovered a newfound sense of purpose—the responsibility to serve as a guardian himself in a world where innocence was more than rare.

Lee Felix had never found comfort in a silent space, and he never understood people who did. People like Hwang Hyunjin, who could sit for hours underneath a gnarled oak tree with only the still air and a journal to keep him company. To Hyunjin, the silence was as much of an empty canvas as the pages in front of him, and he used it to sketch his thoughts in elegant strokes, capturing the faded beauty of a dying world. Hyunjin’s ability to create something delicate with his own two hands was a talent that fascinated Felix, who’d always had a tendency to overlook the intricate details of life.

Always restless, constantly on the move, Felix was a perpetual wanderer who trampled over flowers underneath his shoes, who paid no mind to the warmth of a summer breeze against his skin. Even the moon had once been nothing more than a distant companion to Felix, overshadowed by the need to keep moving to survive.

Until he found Hyunjin.

After fate led Felix to Chan, it brought him to Hyunjin.

Beneath an uncharacteristically clear sky on a sweltering summer afternoon in District 4, Felix found himself compelled to venture out in search of water. It'd been a few days since he’d last seen Chan after the older boy had embarked on a supply run that he'd insisted on making alone, so after leaving behind a small note in their usual spot, Felix set off. Determined not to stray too far, his steps were fueled not only by his parched tongue but also the need to keep his mind off of his growing concern for Chan’s absence.

It wasn't long before Felix found himself within a thick patch of vegetation, where he came across a small pond. And as he stood at the pond's edge, swiping the hair from his sticky forehead and debating on whether or not he was desperate enough to drink the murky liquid, a figure emerged from the brush on the opposite side.

A golden haired boy, injured and in desperate need of help.

Felix’s initial instinct was to take advantage of the boy’s vulnerabilities, to steal what he could from him and abandon him to his fate. But he was different now. He was no longer the person he once was. Throughout his time spent alongside Chan, Felix had learned how to reset his own compass. And so, with newfound clarity he cautiously approached the boy. Felix draped an arm around his waist, and in silence he helped support the boy's weight as the two retraced his steps back to camp.

That night, as the boy drifted in and out of consciousness, Felix’s knowledge of his background remained confined to a single detail. A name—Hyunjin. And as Hyunjin slept, Felix pressed two fingers to his neck periodically to make sure that his heart was still beating.

Felix thanked the gods he'd never believed in when Chan returned the following evening. Through a single shared glance between two kindred souls who had become attuned to each other’s thoughts, a silent conversation was held. Understanding passed between them, followed by a nod of approval from Chan that resonated deeply with Felix.

While Chan himself was no medical expert, his time spent navigating the districts had offered him a bit more understanding about basic healing than Felix—who had been trained solely in the art of taking lives, never saving them. Chan hastily took over Hyunjin’s care, making most of the limited supplies he had returned with. And that night, as the moon returned to bathe their campsite in a delicate silver embrace, as Chan monitored Hyunjin’s sleeping form, he shared with Felix the story of a place called Clé and a woman named Hira.

His words painted the picture of a sanctuary for lost souls, orchestrated by an arms dealer whose beauty shone through her scars. The corridors within Clé called out to those who believed in the possibility of an escape from their lives. However, its doors were not open to all seeking solace.

Hira selected her guests with a discerning eye, choosing to bestow her favor upon only the most physically alluring souls. And those deemed unworthy were turned away, left to return to the unforgiving terrain of the districts they so desperately wished to escape.

Individuals that did find themselves granted access to Clé were groomed to master the art of pleasure, sculpted and shaped to perfection through teachings that revolved around the art of evoking desire and temptation. And when Hira deemed them sufficiently molded by her touch, she would whisper them away to District 9, transported by armed guards to the heart of the Inner Circle—where their beauty would become its own form of currency, traded away to the leaders who governed its polished streets.

It was a journey that came at the highest of prices, demanding a sacrifice of dignity in pursuit of survival. A final attempt to slip free from the rusty chains of their current existence, only to find themselves imprisoned on the other side by a shiny new cage with an unbreakable lock.

It didn’t take long for Chan’s heavy eyes to fall shut that night, eager to embrace the welcome arms of sleep now that he was back where he belonged. But even as light began to flood the sky above, sleep remained elusive for Felix. He suddenly found himself gripped by an unexpected gratitude for his own past, for it had ultimately led him in the opposite direction from the sinister paths that snaked throughout District 9. And as he lie there pondering the twists and turns of fate, Felix found himself wondering if he would have meet Hira's standards, had he found himself seeking refuge within Clé. He contemplated whether or not he would ever have been deemed worthy of a destination such as District 9—a question that lingered within his consciousness for quite some time, even if he had no real desire to know the answer.

As the days turned to weeks, as Hyunjin's condition gradually improved, the duo became a trio. They fell into a seamless rhythm, trading roles and responsibilities without the need for explicit communication. Hyunjin effortlessly assumed the role of the heartstrings that held the three of them together. Each time Felix let his temper get the best of him, it was Hyunjin who went chasing after. Whenever Chan pushed himself beyond his limits, it was always Hyunjin who stepped up in his place. And as the weeks faded into months, as Felix came to know Hyunjin on a deeper level, it was as if a filter over his eyes had begun to lift. The once-overlooked intricacies of the world now caught his attention. Hyunjin intrigued Felix in a way that nothing ever had, and the shared curiosity between them prompted the two to weave a separate history of their own.

But it was a complicated history, one that struggled to withstand the pull of Felix’s dark past. Because whenever their friendship edged on evolving into something more, Felix would instinctively withdraw, grappling with his inner turmoil and the fear of exposing Hyunjin to the mistakes of his past. Hyunjin, too, harbored secrets of his own, which only added to the strain between them. And despite the tender moments that were truly good, they were both still so young. Too young to fully understand the complexities of love and life.

Too human, to comprehend the workings of fate and destiny, but still perceptive enough to appreciate the significance of what had brought them together. Which is why, even after it all came crashing down, spiraling far out of either of their control, the bond between them remained. A delicate bond, worn and frayed at the edges, was left lingering in place of something that could have been so much more. But it remained, nonetheless. Because Hyunjin had been there on nights when Chan couldn’t be. When Felix woke from unforgiving nightmares, drenched in sweat and overcome with fear, the golden haired boy was at his side in an instant to wipe away his tears and provide soft hums that lulled him back to sleep.

And so even now, in moments when his ears buzzed with silence, Felix continued to find peace in Hyunjin's presence. Because just as Chan had shown Felix the difference between right and wrong, between morality and depravity, Hyunjin taught Felix the true essence of living. To appreciate the colors of the sky when before he had only seen shades of grey. To hear the music in a quiet moment when there was no sound. To feel the warmth of shared memories through the ghost of Hyunjin’s touch, long after he stopped receiving it.

Hyunjin left a new kind of mark on Felix, a testament to the level of emotion he was capable of feeling. Which is why when Felix met you it was as if fate had given him a second chance to explore the depths of human connection. He built his walls like always—old habits die hard, or something like that—but this time Felix built them on a foundation that was just a little less sturdy.

A fraction less resilient than before.

Because in your eyes, he saw the reflection of the person he was still struggling to become—someone who had known darkness and pain but still managed to overcome it. You didn’t avoid his scars, you looked directly at them with understanding and acceptance in your eyes. And in the intimate moments when it was just the two of you, Felix felt a sense of belonging that he had never experienced before. Not even with Hyunjin, whose efforts to unravel his innermost layers had fallen short because there was a part of Felix that Hyunjin could never fully reach, no matter how hard he fought to.

But you, you soothed his burning skin with your touch, closed open wounds with every kiss, mended his broken soul a little further every time you spoke his name. Which is why this time, Felix wasn’t just letting his walls come down—he was tearing them down himself. Because in your presence, Felix had begun to develop the hope that some day he would be able to free himself completely from the darkness that had once consumed him.

And as he lie there beside you that night in Clé, Felix couldn't help but notice the way your fingers occasionally brushed across his form as if to reassure yourself that he was there. He shut his eyes, he recalled the gentle pressure of your hands through his hair just hours before, and as he relished in the comforting warmth of your body next to his, Felix felt himself begin to believe in the possibility of a different kind of love that wouldn’t end in loss.

For the first time in his life, Felix allowed himself to entertain the thought that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

The night was eerily still, save for the faint rustling of leaves outside as a gentle breeze slipped in through the boards covering the windows. You were lost in a comfortable, dreamless sleep when an insistent shake startled you awake. When your eyes snapped open you found yourself face to face with Felix, his own eyes wide and brimming with alarm.

“Hey, wake up,” his hushed voice reached your ears through the darkness, and despite the drowsiness that still clung to your senses, it would have been impossible to miss the urgency in his tone. “Something isn’t right.”

You sat up quickly, the familiar feeling of adrenaline beginning to flood your veins once again, erasing any lingering remnants of sleep. Felix draped the jacket you had been using as pillow around himself before promptly pulling you to your feet.

“What’s happening? Where is everyone?” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes with your free hand as you registered the emptiness of the room that had been full when you'd fallen asleep. Felix shook his head, his grip on your hand firm as he swiftly guided you toward the door. “They’re downstairs. We need to go.”

“What? Go where?"

“Anywhere but here, we need to go," he urged. Without further question, you hurriedly followed him down the dimly lit corridor. When your gaze briefly fell to the supply closet, your time spent inside with him earlier that night flashed through your mind, warming your cheeks. But the memory was quickly overshadowed by a shrill cry that pierced the air when you reached the top of the staircase.

Felix quickened his pace, mirroring the rising hysteria in the voice that grew louder with every step you descended. Your hold on him tightened when you registered the words it carried.

The same words. Two simple words. Repeated over and over again.

I'm sorry.

The source of the voice was revealed at the bottom of the staircase, where you were met with the sight of Yeonjun, kneeling on the floor in the kitchen. A handful of small candles flickered on the table, casting a warm glow across face—cheeks wet with tears, puffy eyes red and swollen as he looked up to where Hira stood over him.

Sensing your unease, Felix lightly squeezed your hand, urging you to stay put as he observed the exchange between Yeonjun and Hira.

"How could you?!" Hira’s voice erupted in sudden anger, her fury directed down at the crying boy. Her tone was chilling, ice cold, and the words that followed sent an electric shock drilling up your spine. “You’ve sentenced us all to death.”

Glancing to Felix, you held your breath as you watched his features darken. The look in his eyes reflected your own growing realization, and your suspicions were confirmed when Yeonjun's voice rang out again.

“They threatened me! They were going to kill me, and they were going to come back for you!" A sob caught in his throat, and he paused to swallow it down before continuing. “They promised to let us go..they said they wouldn’t hurt anyone..that they just wanted to talk to them, and I-I’m sorry! I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry, Felix."

When Yeonjun turned to look at him, Felix froze. His eyes went wide and his grip on your hand went stiff, leaving you with a sinking feeling in the deepest pit of your stomach.

Because not only did he know why Yeonjun was sorry, but he knew exactly who they were.

And so did you.

Movement against the far wall caught your attention as the thin curtain over the window was blown aside by a gust of wind. Through the open space, you noticed two round spots of yellow light in the distance. And Yeonjun's cries were drowned out by the frantic drumming of your heartbeat in your ears when you realized that they were headlights.

Time stood still as the fragile moment of solace you had found with the freckled boy last night was shattered to irreparable pieces. From the corner of your vision, you caught sight of Hyunjin as he came rushing in through the entrance to the kitchen. “They're getting closer, we need to go now!" His panicked words, along with your shared understanding of the situation, left no room for further hesitation from either you or Felix.

A fiery determination seemed to ignite within Felix when he began to move, dragging you with him. You lowered your head as you passed by Yeonjun and Hira in the confined space, however your heightened senses were immediately called back into focus when a cold hand clasped around your free wrist. Your movement came to an abrupt halt, causing Felix to do the same. With wide eyes, you lifted your head to him before shifting your gaze down to where Hira had claimed a vice-like grip on your flesh.

As her sharp nails dug into your skin, leaving deep crescent shapes underneath, her elegant features twisted into something unsettling—something outright disturbing, that grew even more pronounced when her lips parted to speak.

"This is your fault," she snapped. "I knew it was you from the moment I laid eyes on you. The resemblance..I never expected to see her face again..but you..you look just like her."

The scrutiny in her eyes held a flicker of recognition, as if she saw someone else when she looked at you—as if you were suddenly entangled in a history that you hadn’t been a part of writing. And your mind raced as you tried to make sense of whatever connection she could possibly believe that you had to her own past.

“I-I don't know what you're talking about,” your voice quivered as she took a step closer. When you tried to free your wrist, she fastened her hold, forcibly yanking you toward her.

"Felix-"

The freckled boy reacted immediately when his name fell from your lips. Dropping your other hand, he lunged forward in a single motion, prying Hira's fingers from your wrist with such force that she stumbled back, colliding harshly with the wall. Long strands of tangled hair fell into her face at the impact, but she made no effort to sweep them away as her gaze shifted from Felix back to you.

Her words hovered in the space between you, but before they could fully settle in your mind, before you got any chance at all to ask her what they meant, a single bullet fell in through the open window—striking Hira in the skull with lethal precision.

Blood splattered across the wall behind her, a few droplets landing against your cheek as her lifeless body slumped to the ground.

Every muscle in your body locked as your focus tunneled to the frozen expression on her face and the disturbing sensation of the warm droplets against your skin.

Yeonjun’s cries turned violent when he crawled over to take her into his arms. And as you watched him cradle her limp form, the world around you suddenly felt so distant that hardly any of it seemed real at all.

When a second bullet embedded itself into the wall at your side, Felix swiftly drew you into the shelter of his chest. His deep voice resounded through the air, rising above Yeonjun's as he shouted at Hyunjin to “GO!” assuring him that the two of you would be close behind.

Around you, Hira's guests began to flood the room from various directions—the common area behind you, the staircase up ahead—and as their eyes fell upon their fallen leader, their shrieks formed a chilling chorus that drove you to seek further refuge in Felix's chest. He covered your ears with his hands to shield you from their screams, his touch gentle even amidst the chaos.

“Princess I need you to move, we have to go now,” he pleaded, tilting your head to meet his gaze. And the effect was immediate. The unspoken promise in his eyes to keep you safe, the sound of his voice, coupled with with the caress of his thumbs as they swiped the blood from your cheeks—it worked. Felix brought you back to the present moment as you grasped hold of the fact that your survival, that his survival, depended on getting the hell out of there.

You managed a single nod, and Felix took it as your agreement. In an instant, his arms were back around you as he began to shoulder through the horrified guests in the room. When you stumbled free of the kitchen, he broke into a swift run, replacing his grip on your hand.

"Stay close," he instructed, and you responded with a firm squeeze to his hand.

Outside, the fresh air hit cold against your clammy skin, shocking you out of fear and replacing it with fierce determination to protect the boy whose fingers were interlocked with yours. The moon that you had depended on for guidance so many times before was shrouded in darkness tonight. Unfamiliar voices, gunfire, and the rumble of a single engine in the distance filled the air behind you, disorienting you further.

Around the backside of the building, flashes of movement revealed where the rest of the boys had gathered at the rover. “They’re closing in! We need to get out of here!” Chan shouted in your direction.

Felix lifted the motorcycle to a standing position, and while he ensured it was ready to go, you squinted through the darkness to count the bodies in the rover.

Seven.

There were seven, including Hyunjin, who had assumed his original place beside Jisung. When you settled down on the bike after Felix, he reached behind himself to secure your arms around his waist. “Don’t let go, I’ve got you," he affirmed. His voice carried steady strength, and there was a sincerity in his words that made you believe that he meant them—that he did have you. And that you would always be safe with Felix, even if it would never be possible for him to guarantee.

When the rover carrying the rest of the boys surged ahead, Felix followed suit. Positioning the bike at its side, he quickly took the lead in front of Chan who directed him to steer the chase deeper into District 6. It meant veering off course from the route you had originally planned to take to get to Miroh, but none of that mattered now.

The morning you’d spent planning for your journey inside Yellow Wood felt like it had taken place years ago.

The night you’d shared with Felix on the rooftop, a lifetime.

Guided by a single headlight, Felix navigated the dark terrain expertly. He mastered every twist and turn, every jolt and bump, with skilled precision. And as the ground beneath you transitioned from soil into concrete, the barren stretches of land suddenly gave way to remnants of civilization once again.

Above you, a passing cloud released the the moon, freeing it to cast long shadows across fractured pavement that led straight toward a city. An abandoned city, from the looks of it, as there was no flickering firelight in the distance, no glimmering lanterns—only a dark expanse. An oppressive, pitch-black void that radiated something menacing, as if warning you to stay away.

The wind stung against your face when you lifted it from Felix's back. “You know where you’re going?!"

His attention remained fixed straight ahead as he shouted, “Been here a few times! Not enough to remember it all but we might be able to lose them in the streets!” And then, in a single movement, Felix placed one of his hands over yours where they were interlocked at his waist. It was a small gesture meant to reassure you, that instead made you regret everything—the entire chain of decisions that had led you to this point. Because the thought of what would happen to him if you weren't able to outrun your fathers guards tonight was a burden that you couldn't fathom bearing.

Towering structures loomed overhead as the vehicles raced into the city, their windows like hollow eyes watching over you as the sounds from the pursuing guards resonated in the near distance. The guards were close, but Felix was fast. He weaved in every direction, attempting to use the crumbling structures to your advantage, and surely he would have succeeded in losing them amidst the ruins if it had just been the two of you on the motorcycle. But the layout proved to be an added challenge because wherever he went, Felix had to ensure that Chan would be able to get through behind you.

And if he could, then your father’s guards could too.

Rounding a corner as you neared heart of the city, the street you had been following was unexpectedly barricaded by a collapsed building, leaving you trapped.

With no way forward, Felix brought the bike to a screeching halt.

“Fuck we have to find another way. Hold on,” he muttered, maneuvering the bike around just as Chan and the others pulled up behind you.

"We’re never going to be able to outrun them!” Minho shouted, his eyes darting back and forth in search of the best sign of escape.

“Everyone get out! We'll go on foot!” Chan commanded. And the boys obeyed without hesitation, driven solely by survival. Because that's what it was—survival. If caught, your father's men wouldn’t let them live.

And every single one of you knew it.

Following your lead, Felix swiftly dismounted the motorcycle. He cast it aside before reaching for your hand again, and you didn't hesitate to take it as Chan directed the group toward a building with glass doors that had been shattered open, beckoning you closer.

Upon entering, you found yourselves within a vast, open space underneath a high ceiling supported by several white pillars that gave the place an air of importance. Moonlight streamed in through elongated windows overhead, casting silhouettes along the once-pristine interior. The pale marble beneath your feet was cracked at nearly every inch of its surface, rendering you unsteady.

In a race against time, you pushed yourself to run faster than you ever had, pulled forward the boy you would have given anything to protect. Ragged breathing filled the air as you closed in on a second set of doors at the far end of the space, but before you could exhale a sigh of relief, a sudden cry rang out from behind you.

Your eyes swept across the scene, instantly drawn to where Jeongin was sprawled on the ground a few feet away, clutching his foot as he hissed in pain. It was difficult to discern through the darkness exactly what had happened, until a single beam of moonlight caught on something shiny protruding from the worn out sole of his shoe.

A shard of glass.

Felix took a step forward but Chan was closer, quickest to reach Jeongin’s side.

“I can keep going,” Jeongin insisted through clenched teeth as Changbin joined Chan in lifting him from the ground. His arms looped around their shoulders, and he began to limp forward while Chan shouted at the rest of you to keep moving.

You turned to Felix and when his wide eyes connected with your own, a sinking feeling took hold over your entire body. “It’s okay, we’re okay,” he breathed. Yet despite his words, despite his best efforts to conceal his fear, the steadfast determination that had marked his expression only minutes before had vanished entirely.

In an instant it was as if if you could feel your undeniable fate settle in around you, ready to consume you whole.

Slowed down by Jeongin’s injury, the danger the nine of you faced had reached a critical point. And the realization that you weren’t going to be able to escape it dawned on you the very moment you emerged from the threshold on the opposite side of the building.

Felix was first of the group to make it out, followed closely by you with your hands still interlocked. The second you set foot onto the pavement, the entire area around you was flooded with a blinding burst of light.

Flashlights and a single set of headlights were switched on, causing your senses to reel. Your eyes painfully adjusted to the sudden brightness, and your feet skidded on the gravel as you instinctively sought refuge behind Felix, lifting your hood and pulling it low to shield your face.

The menacing sound of numerous firearms being raised echoed throughout the air as they took aim at you from every direction. And the severity of the situation escalated even further when a second rover came barreling around the corner to join the first—rendering you severely outnumbered, with virtually no chance at escape.

Felix made an effort to withdraw, stumbling as he pushed you behind him. “Go, go, go!” he repeated, desperately urging you to retreat back inside the building. But despite his insistence, fear rooted you in place.

Over your shoulder, you watched as Minho and Changbin swiftly raised their own guns, taking up defensive positions just inside the entrance, knuckles white against the weapon's dark metal. They stood at the forefront next to Chan, who met your gaze through the shattered glass doors that separated you. And although his stance was resolute, the sheer terror in his eyes was overwhelming.

“Enough! Stand down!” a bellowing voice ripped through the air without warning. It was a familiar voice, you had heard it before, however in your current state of alarm you couldn’t recall exactly which one of your father’s guards it belonged to.

Your eyes remained fixed on Chan, who responded by bravely stepping out through the doors with raised hands. He took a few tentative steps forward, positioning himself directly beside Felix in a subtle attempt to further shield your face from the guards.

When Chan addressed them, his voice was surprising steady. “We don't want any trouble, we’re just trying to survive.”

“You’re fugitives. You’ve already caused enough trouble,” the guard snarled in response.

You pressed your forehead to Felix's back, clutching his jacket as you wrestled with the conflicting thoughts in your head. Maybe, you thought, maybe if you revealed your identity and offered yourself up in exchange, they would let the boys go. But it was a fleeting thought, because deep down you knew they wouldn’t.

They wouldn’t.

And the understanding that you were completely and utterly helpless was enough to bring tears to your eyes. But it was nothing in comparison to what you felt when you registered the shuffling sound of approaching footsteps.

Your pulse quickened as Felix shifted, straightening his posture and positioning himself closer to you.

“Wait-” Chan's voice rang out with urgency as he tried to take a step forward, only to be shoved aside by the barrel of a gun held by an unseen guard.

And then, without warning, Felix was suddenly wrenched from your grasp in a heart-stopping display of brutality.

The guard that seized him spun him around violently, and panic rose hot in your throat when his hand pressed down on Felix's head, driving him to his knees.

Without turning around, Chan motioned frantically for Minho and Hyunjin to lower their guns.

"Looks like we've got ourselves a bargaining chip," the guard taunted. His comrades snickered around him as he raised his gun and pressed the barrel against the back of Felix's head, tapping it a few times before resting it still.

Felix winced as he glanced up from his position on the ground. His eyes immediately found their way to yours, and the shimmering emotion in them hit you like a devastating blow.

"P-please, don't," you choked out, completely ignoring the fact that—aside from your hood—your face was almost entirely exposed. But your plea fell on deaf ears as the guard failed to acknowledge you. His index finger dropped to hover over the trigger, a sadistic smirk spread across his lips, and your stomach churned violently in response.

Felix was going to die.

The freckled boy with the stars in his eyes was going to die, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

Well, maybe one thing.

Your trembling hands moved of their own accord, lifting to meet the thin fabric of your hood. A surge of alarm coursed through your veins when a second guard's voice rang out, "You there, freeze!"

Felix's expression dropped, pleading with you through the silent connection of your eyes to reconsider.

Chan didn't utter a single word, but you felt him tense beside you.

You tuned them all out.

With a shaky breath, a heavy heart, and all but one of the guards' guns now pointed in your direction, you lowered your hood. And in the fleeting moment before your face was fully revealed, you mouthed the words "I'm sorry" to Felix, hoping he would find some way to understand.

Hushed murmurs rose around you, filling the air. The guard who held Felix hesitated as he studied your face. His gaze was firm, eyes unblinking, as he traced along your features. His expression gradually shifted from uncertainty to recognition. And he smiled. He smiled—a sinister curl of his lips. Because he knew that by dragging you back to your father, he would secure a life of unimaginable wealth and resources—far beyond what anyone in the outer districts could ever imagine.

The instant your eyes met, a wave of recognition surged within you as well. Because although you'd never bothered to learn his name, his face, along with the devilish glint in his eyes, had been imprinted into your memory ever since the night of the raid. When he had whisked you away from the grand hall, separating you from Felix then, too.

The guard opened his mouth to speak and you instinctively reached for the knife in your waistband, bracing yourself for whatever was to come. But you would never get to know the words that fell from his lips, as his voice was instantly swallowed by the deafening crack of a gunshot that ripped through the air.

The guard beside him was struck, collapsing to the ground in a heap.

“What the-"

Whoever said it, you couldn’t be sure.

You ducked down, instincts urging you to seek cover as a shower of bullets began to flood the air. When you lifted your head, you witnessed Felix waste no time in engaging the guard in a desperate struggle for control of the gun. You shifted, driven by the desire to help him, but it was almost as if he had anticipated your thoughts when he called out for you to “stay down, y/n!”

Crouched on the ground with your hands above your head, you watched in awe as he overpowered the guard with surprising skill—moving with a fluidity that told you he had done this countless times before. As soon as he gained control of the weapon, Felix used the blunt end to deliver a blow straight to the guard's chest, sending him tumbling to the ground. He cocked the gun with a polished flick of his wrist, and the fallen guard raised his hands in a gesture of surrender.

With a single, split-second glance back to you, Felix turned and pointed it at the man’s head with chilling certainty.

And you looked away, burying your face in your hands, when he pulled the trigger.

The next think you knew, the next thing you remembered, Felix was at your side—arms encircling your upper body, a warm hand on the back of your neck. And although you thought you might have heard his voice reach out to you, thought maybe your name had fallen from his lips, it was impossible to make sense of anything over the ringing in your ears.

Summoning the courage to peer through your fingers, you finally gained the opportunity to grasp hold of the situation as it played out before you.

Your eyes fell upon three figures, each armed with heavy weapons of their own, atop three stocky animals. Their presence suggested that the initial gunfire hadn’t come from any of the guards or the boys. And your jaw dropped when you glimpsed a flash of red hair.

Yeonjun.

It was Yeonjun, flanked by two unfamiliar individuals that you could only assume to be more of Hira’s people, seeking revenge for their fallen leader.

Their arrival had thrown the entire situation into an unexpected twist, offering momentary relief for you and the boys. But the relief was short lived, because although Yeonjun and the others had secured the element of surprise, they too faced the critical disadvantage of being outnumbered.

Huddled over you, Felix let out a gasp as his own eyes locked with Yeonjuns.

"Get out of here, Felix!" Yeonjun's strained voice pierced through the chaos.

Felix froze in disbelief, visibly astonished.

You tugged on his sleeve, but he remained motionless. You tried to speak, but no words came out. Time seemed to grind to a halt, and for a moment, it was as if it would never start again.

Until Chan's strong grip took hold of your arm.

"Come on!" he urged, determination filling his eyes as he pulled you with him. Felix, still dazed, stumbled to his feet beside you, and the three of you sprinted into the building, heartbeats pounding in rhythm with your steps.

Even after you'd made it inside, Felix's reluctance to leave Yeonjun behind was evident. You broke free from Chan's grasp when you noticed that he had come to a stop behind you. "Felix, we need to go," you pleaded as you rushed over to him, grabbing his hand to try and pull him with you.

"It's okay," you continued. But it wasn't.

"They'll be alright," you added. But they wouldn't.

"Please, Felix," you implored, "I need you." And it wasn't until your trembling voice cracked with raw emotion on the final word that Felix finally yielded to your insistent tugging.

As soon as he gave way, your feet were in motion again. Together, you hurried through the building and emerged on the other side where your vehicles awaited. And you didn't even remember climbing onto the bike, but suddenly you were there, clinging to Felix for dear life as he revved the engine. With one last glance—first in the direction you had come, then down to you—he gritted his teeth and followed Chan’s lead.

As vehicles accelerated and sped off, your thoughts remained with Yeonjun and the others you had left behind. Fear transformed into guilt, a resounding guilt, that settled deep within your bones, intensifying further with every gunshot that pierced the night behind you.

You willed your eyes to remain open, determined to keep the trailing rover in your vision.

As the abandoned city dissolved into another terrifying nightmare, the memory of the first night you’d spent on the bike with Felix tugged at your heart. It left behind an ache that had you feeling like the foolish girl your father had called you once. Because that’s what you were—foolish, for allowing your feelings for Felix to develop in the way that they had.

Tonight’s close call had ripped away any illusion of control you thought you might’ve you had over your own emotions. If things had taken a different turn, if the guard had so much as twitched his ready finger and his loaded gun had fired against the back of Felix's head, would you have been able to deal with the aftermath? If you had lost Felix would you have been able to cope with the weight of his absence? To live with yourself after?

And what did it mean if you couldn’t?

You’d watched him shoot a man with raised hands tonight, and it should have frightened you—the ease with which he’d aimed the weapon and pulled the trigger. It was a stark reminder of the darkness that existed within him, but when his eyes met yours in that split second before he’d done it, they held an unmistakable air that his actions had been driven by a need to protect you. To protect you, and the rest of the boys, and so it only made you cling to him tighter. Because Felix didn’t need words to express that he was driven by a commitment to do whatever it took to ensure the safety of those he cared for—which you were now more than certain included yourself, too. A realization that left you torn between the undeniable feelings you had developed for him and the fear that you had crossed a line you were never meant to cross.

You couldn't escape the magnetic pull of his presence, yet you were acutely aware of the reality that hung over your heads. The circumstances, the world you inhabited, it was all designed to keep you apart. You knew it. He knew it. And not only did it force you to confront the painful truth that your relationship with Felix could never progress beyond its current state, it had you questioning whether or not your paths were even meant to cross in the first place.

It was an overwhelming thought, one that brought tears to your eyes for the second time that night.

When the first signs of dawn began to streak the sky above, Felix released his steady grip on the throttle. Chan caught up, and a signal passed between the two, prompting them to pull over nearby.

As the boys scrambled out of the vehicle, you caught sight of their expressions filled with shock and disbelief as they grappled with the weight of the close call. Chan raked his hands through his hair after his feet landed on the hard earth. “Too close, too fucking close,” he muttered, his words mirroring the thoughts in all of your minds.

Jisung dropped to the ground, Changbin tilted his head to the sky, Hyunjin leaned wearily against the rover, and Jeongin remained seated inside—gripping onto Seungmin as Minho examined his injured foot.

You stepped down from the motorcycle on unsteady legs, a residual effect of the adrenaline that had coursed through your veins during the escape. Felix dropped the bike with a loud thud, startling you when he spun around and placed his hands firmly on both of your shoulders. “Are you okay? Are you hurt? Fuck, are you okay?” his words tumbled out in a rush, eyes darting up and down your figure.

You nodded frantically as your trembling hands peeled back the edges of his jacket to check for signs of injury. “Did you..A-Are you…” your voice shook, rendered speechless by the violent rush of emotions inside you.

When Felix spoke again it was barely above a whisper. “I’m okay," he reassured you, taking gentle hold of your hands to guide them away from his body. You searched your palms for any signs of blood but they were clean—they were clean, and yet the compulsion to keep checking for hidden wounds persisted.

“-Princess. I’m okay,” he repeated. And your actions drew the attention of the others but you paid no mind. As if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, you were suddenly overwhelmed with the desire to tell Felix everything that had been gnawing at the edges of your consciousness. Starting with the fact that you would have thrown away any chance at saving the world tonight in order to keep him safe. Because nothing in your life had made sense before Felix. And you were certain that if the world were to take him from you now, your spirit would turn restless inside your bones—cursed to wander forever in search of what you had lost.

“-What the fuck happened back there?!” your thoughts were interrupted by Chan, his voice yanking you back from the edge of vulnerability you were about to tumble over. “Hira wouldn’t have turned us in to those guards, I know she wouldn’t have,” he added, brows knitting together as he wrestled with his desire to comfort Jeongin and his responsibility to discover the truth about what had just taken place.

Felix swung his gaze around to meet Chan's. “Hira is dead,” he stated flatly. “And you’re right, she isn’t the one who turned us in. It was...Yeonjun," he gulped, hesitating at the mention of the orange-haired boy.

“What?” Chan stammered. “H-how...and Yeonjun? He saved our asses back there. Why would he do that if.."

Guilt.

Although he did not say it out loud, Felix was certain it was the reason. Because he saw it there tonight, unmistakably present in Yeonjun's eyes. And Felix knew all too well that, for some, the mere thought of a lifetime plagued by guilt after making the wrong decision could be far more terrifying than death itself.

“They shot Hira, before we even made it outside,” Hyunjin chimed in. “I just can't wrap my head around how Yeonjun managed to double-cross us. It makes no sense. He was with us the entire time.”

“-Until we went to sleep,” Changbin interjected. And the group fell silent. A thick, uncomfortable silence, broken only by soft muttering from Minho’s direction as he tended to Jeongin’s foot.

“So what, you think Yeonjun left to track down those guards after we went to sleep?” Jisung stood, joining the conversation. "How would he have known they were out there? We never told him we were running from them."

Chan's focus sharpened as he considered Jisung's words. “Felix..” he started, his tone cautious. “After we were separated from you and Hyunjin, how long was it before Yeonjun found you?”

"I dont know, maybe an hour?" Felix replied.

“What if Yeonjun came across the guards during that time?" Chan's voice was steady as he held the group's attention. "What if after Yeonjun left us with Hira, he was confronted by the guards? What if they threatened him and coerced him into admitting that he had seen us and knew where we were headed? Then they released him to find you two. He eventually brought you back to Clé, and they tracked his movement, waiting until nightfall to-”

"-Wait a minute,” Hyunjin asserted. “Now that I think about it, Yeonjun was acting a bit strangely on the way to Cle. And maybe you would’ve realized it too, Felix, if you weren't so preoccupied with.." as he trailed off, Hyunjin's dark eyes met with yours, causing your breath to catch in your throat. He looked as if he had more to say, but before he could continue, he was interrupted by a sharp cry of pain from Jeongin.

The boys immediately abandoned the conversation, rushing to the side of the vehicle. You shifted on your feet, hesitating to join them because on some level, even after everything that had happened tonight, you still felt like an outsider.

Sensing your reluctance, Felix turned and met your eyes with a wordless invitation that urged you to come closer. Drawn by the invisible thread that seemed to connect the two of you, you positioned yourself between him and Jisung. As you stood between them, you couldn't help but notice how Felix shifted just a fraction closer to you. And although he kept his focus on Jeongin, you soon felt the gentle pressure of his shoulder against yours.

Inside the vehicle, Minho's inner conflict played out across his features. His gaze shifted rapidly between Jeongin's pale face and the sliver of glass firmly lodged in the sole of his shoe. “I can't just leave it embedded,” he voiced his concern aloud, directed at no one in particular. "It could lead to infection..I just can’t tell how deep its gone..”

Seungmin’s expression grew more strained as Jeongin squirmed uncomfortably in his arms. “What if you make it worse by trying to take it out?”

“We don’t really have a choice,” Minho responded, his medical instincts wrestling with the reality of your limited resources.

Chan’s fingers tapped an anxious rhythm against the side of the vehicle. "We should at least try to sterilize the area to buy us some time."

“Time for what? Everything we have is here,” Minho snapped, whipping around to face Chan as he gestured to the surrounding bags of supplies.

Next to Chan, Hyunjin's expression furrowed as he glanced from Minho to Jeongin. “We aren't that far from Yellow Wood. We could go back, let it heal, and try again for Miroh when-”

“-If we sit still for too long now, they'll find us,” Minho stressed. “Besides, if we can actually make it to Miroh there might be medical supplies there that aren’t shit. But getting there will take days, and we can’t afford to leave it untreated for that long,” he added.

“T-take it out,” Jeongin whimpered, "Please, I can handle it." His gaze shifted across the faces of each of the boys, his trust in them evident even despite his pain. And when his eyes landed on you, your chest ached with the realization that he looked at you in the exact same way, with the same level of trust.

Chan leaned into the rover, placing his hand gently on Jeongin's shoulder where he offered a reassuring squeeze. "We're going to take care of you, okay? Just hang in there." His gaze shifted to Minho and a wordless exchange passed between them as the rest of the group shifted even closer, forming a tight circle around the vehicle.

As the boys began to offer their own words of encouragement, Minho glanced up, his piercing eyes locking hold of yours. “You. You have some medical training right?”

“Dude she has a name..” Jisung grumbled from beside you.

Minho shot him an irritated glance, clearing his throat before addressing you again. “y/n,” he pronounced your name with a sour undertone, as if it left an unpleasant taste on his tongue. "Do you or do you not have any medical training?”

He wasn't wrong to assume you would, given your background. Your father had always prioritized combat skills over healing, but you'd been given a fair share of private medical lessons too. And even if it was a limited amount, your knowledge of the subject undoubtedly surpassed that of any of the other boys.

Eager to help Jeongin in any way you could, you nodded. Minho motioned for you to join him inside the vehicle, and the protective glare that Felix shot his way gave you a much needed boost of confidence as you sat down beside him.

Minho gave you a brief rundown of what he needed, his instructions clear and concise. In preparation, he handed Jeongin something to bite down on. And as he began, you couldn't help but admire the way his practiced hands moved.

As the wound became more apparent, you felt a slight twinge of unease. The quantity of blood was surprising, but upon closer inspection, you were relieved to find that the glass hadn't gone nearly as deep as you'd anticipated.

Jeongin's face contorted in pain as it was carefully extracted from the thin sole of his shoe and, subsequently, his foot. You worked in tandem with Minho, assisting with whatever you could, and the collective breath held by the group seemed to release in sync with the shard's removal. Minho held it up, allowing it to shimmer in the morning light before setting it aside.

As he moved on to stitch up the wound, the process felt excruciatingly slow. Your attention shifted back to Jeongin, cradled securely in Seungmin's hold, and you couldn't help but notice the way his hands clenched and unclenched against the seat beneath him. Without thinking, you reached to take the hand that was closest to you. His fingers relaxed as they laced with yours, and you could feel the warmth of his gratitude when he briefly opened his eyes to meet your own.

When you glanced up to Seungmin, he gave you a soft nod of approval over Jeongin’s shoulder.

After Minho had finished stitching the wound, the boys' attention gradually began to shift toward their next steps, driven by a shared sense of relief now that Jeongin's discomfort had been temporarily eased.

You remained fully absorbed in helping Minho clean up—so focused that you barely caught the murmured "thank you," that came from where he sat beside you. You paused, convinced you hadn’t heard him correctly, until he added in a slightly louder tone, "You have a steady hand, y/n. You'd make a good medic."

Taken aback by his sudden appreciation, your eyes followed him as he stood. "Anybody seen any water?" he asked, scanning the vehicle's interior. Changbin handed him a canteen, which he promptly passed over to Jeongin.

After ensuring that Jeongin was as comfortable as possible, with the unexpected compliment from Minho still ringing in your ears, you stepped down from the rover.

Your eyes immediately found Felix, leaned against the vehicle with a soft smile playing at the corners of his lips. He took a step, but before he could close the distance between you, Jisung was at your side. “Nicely done, District nine. I knew you’d come in handy,” he grinned, giving you a solid pat to the back.

And then it was Chan’s turn to steal your attention. "y/n can you come look at this?" You swiveled around and he motioned for you to join him and Changbin where they had the map spread out across the hood of the rover.

When you turned back to Felix you found Hyunjin at his side, effectively blocking your view. With a small, resigned exhale through your nose, you made your way over to stand beside Changbin.

Chan asked for your help in determining the best route to take to get back on track—where your father’s guards would be less likely to follow. After thorough examination of the map, and a collaborative discussion between the three of you—with the occasional interjection from Minho—you reached a consensus.

After what had happened last night, crossing into more challenging terrain was deemed well worth the risk by all of you. And so the decision to alter your route was unanimous. You would head in the direction of a mountainous region that spanned across District 5, as it would make tracking your movements far more difficult.

With a plan in place, you glanced back at the motorcycle where Felix was now seated, tying his hair back.

He looked up as you approached. "You sure you don't want to go with them instead?” he asked, nudging his head in the direction of the rover. “You can sleep in the truck," he added.

You ignored his suggestion, making your choice known when you swung a leg over the bike and settled down behind him. You drew him closer, gently wrapping your arms around his waist. “I’m not tired, and i don’t plan on going anywhere,” you mumbled into his shoulder.

"But-" Felix began to protest. He turned to face you, but the words caught in his throat when you leaned in at the same time—your closeness catching him off guard.

“Just drive, Lix.” Your voice was soft, a murmured exhale against his lips. And you looked up to meet his eyes before pulling back to settle into his form.

A pink blush crept up to his ears as he twisted around, glancing over his other shoulder to where the boys had piled into the rover a few feet away. “Yeah, right.." he stammered, eyes following the rover when it took off from your side, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. And a faint smile crossed your lips as Felix cleared his throat before manipulating the throttle and setting the bike into motion once again.

After several hours of uninterrupted travel, muted rays of buttery light filtered in through the clouds above as the sun began to set. The ground beneath you was etched with crevices and jutting stones, creating a labyrinth of rocky terrain that stretched on endlessly.

In the dying light, you found yourselves in search of shelter once again. Not necessarily because you couldn't keep moving at night—if anything you thought it would be smarter to travel under the cover of darkness—but every single one of you was beyond exhausted, and it showed.

It showed in the subtle swerve of the motorcycle when Felix's head dipped, snapping back up when you called his name. It showed in each set of drooping shoulders and even in the gradual slow of the vehicles, as if they too were struggling to keep up the pace.

On that particular evening, luck seemed to be on your side when you came upon a cave nestled snugly between a cluster of natural rock formations. With the vehicles secured just outside the entrance, the group collectively made their way inside.

Upon entering the cave, you were greeted by a cool, refreshing environment, a stark contrast to the toxic haze that loomed over District 6. Flashlights flickered on one-by-one, casting their light upon the walls to reveal a spacious chamber. Felix and Chan immediately set about the task of creating a fire and it wasn't long before the flames began to dance and crackle before their eyes. At the other end of the space, the uneven ground converged into a single pathway that drew your attention and you watched as Hyunjin, Changbin, and Jisung gravitated toward it.

Beckoned by your own curiosity, you glanced back to Chan who shot you an inquisitive look before tossing you his flashlight. "Don't go too far, yeah?" he cautioned, and you nodded in agreement.

Trailing the boys, you sensed the familiar weight of a pair of eyes on your back, following your every move until you slipped out of sight.

The narrow passage came alive with rhythmic footsteps and the occasional murmur from up ahead, mostly Jisung. The sound of trickling water drew your attention and around the corner, a sudden widening revealed an open area where the rocky floor dipped down into a large basin, filled with crystal-clear water. It was a miniature oasis of sorts, a natural spring lit by glowing blue bioluminescence that lie nestled within the depths of the cave. The water's surface sparkled beneath a crevice in the ceiling through which you could see the moon.

The boys rushed forward, cupping their hands to sip the cool water, splashing it across their faces and arms. When you bent down to fill a canteen from your backpack, you were caught off guard by the sudden sight of your reflection in the water’s rippling surface.

A layered film of dirt and sweat clung to your skin, deep shadows had formed underneath your sunken eyes, and your once-tamed hair was now in complete disarray. It would have been a harrowing sight for anyone from District 9 to see themselves in such a state, and yet, oddly enough, you liked the way you looked like this. A raw version of your former polished self, without the vibrant makeup and suffocating clothing that had always left your skin feeling itchy and irritated. Stripped of the insincere smile you had been forced to wear throughout your life, you looked like you. A bit worn out, sure. But you embraced it wholeheartedly because it was the first time you truly felt as if you belonged among the boys.

As your eyes swept back and forth, another presence began to emerge from your appearance—your father. Subtly etched into the lines of your face, the shape of your nose, the color of your eyes—almost as if your own features were mocking your attempts to distance yourself from him. Because he was there, and he always would be. You could run from him as much as you liked, forever even, but you would never be able to escape your own reflection.

When the boys stood, you did the same, gaze lingering on the water's surface for a last second. Turning to leave, you were surprised to find Jisung waiting a short distance away. The blue tint cast a beautiful glow against his face, accentuating the gentle curve of his cheeks and the warmth in his eyes. The metal piercing in his eyebrow glinted in the faint light. "We can stay a bit longer, if you'd like," he offered.

There was an attractive sincerity about Jisung that had always intrigued you, but your eagerness to leave behind your reflection overpowered the allure. With a subtle shake of your head, you let out a small “’s okay," followed by a tender smile which he returned.

You moved at a slow pace, shoulder to shoulder, guided by the light from your flashlights as you winded back through the passage. Jisung kicked a pebble, and your eyes followed its movement. After a subtle clearing of his throat, he eventually broke the silence. "It was really cool, what you did for Jeongin earlier.”

You shrugged, inadvertently meeting his eyes. "I didn't do much...just followed what Minho told me."

Jisung responded without hesitation. "Yeah, but I know it means a lot to Jeongin. And to Minho, to finally have someone who knows what they’re doing that can help him."

"Does it? Because I think he kind of hates me.." your brows knitted together, and a gentle smile tugged at Jisung's lips.

"Minho doesn't hate you, he's just cautious," he said, returning his gaze back to the path ahead. “And I know he might come off as distant, but there's more to him beneath the surface."

Beneath the surface.

You were no stranger to what lay beneath that surface. Because your connection to Minho existed whether either of you wanted it to or not, born from the shared roots of District 9. And along with it came a shared understanding of a part of the world that, out of the nine of you, only you two could truly comprehend.

“Just give him some time, he’ll come around,” Jisung continued, accompanied by a sympathetic smile.

"Thanks, Ji. I really hope you're right.”

As soon as the nickname escaped your lips, Jisung’s expression dropped. A range emotions crossed his features. His eyes held yours for a moment, and within them you detected profound longing, tinged with traces of sorrow and grief. Unspoken, but undeniably present.

"Ji," he chuckled softly, a sad sound. "No one's called me that in a really long time."

"Well it suits you," you offered, scanning his face.

His eyes took on a glossy sheen, and his lips curled up into something bittersweet. "Yeah, I guess it does," he replied. After a moment, he blinked away the emotion and shifted the conversation. “So..want to tell me what the hell's been going on between you and Felix?"

Your foot caught suddenly on a rock, and you reached out instinctively for Jisung to steady yourself as heat flooded your cheeks. "I-uh..what about us?" Your gaze nervously darted away as you stumbled over your words.

A wistful grin tugged at the corner of Jisung’s lips. "Come on, I'm not blind. I've noticed things, you know? Subtle glances..the way he looks at you."

“Why does everyone keep saying that?” you questioned, recalling when Chan had told you the very same thing in the forest outside of Yellow Wood.

I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you. Never. Not anyone.

Jisung chuckled lightly in response. "Well, usually when everyone notices the same thing, it means there's some truth to it," he mused.

"Or maybe everyone's just reading too much into it."

"Whatever you say," Jisung shrugged. "I guess we’re just not used to Felix looking at anyone in a way that doesn't suggest he wants them dead. Usually he's..Well by now I'm sure you know how he is."

"Yeah," you affirmed, "I know how he is. The second time we ever spoke was while he had a knife pressed to my throat."

“He what?"

"Long story," you said. Although, in reality, the story was actually quite simple. And you'd never held it against Felix. After all, what else was he supposed to do when he'd come face to face with the daughter of the man who wanted nothing more than to see all of them dead.

"That reminds me," Jisung started, twisting the flashlight around in his hand. "I always wondered how you guys met.”

"He didn't tell you?"

Jisung shook his head vigorously in response. "Let's just say every time one of us would bring it up he'd turn bright red and shut down the conversation immediately, usually by fleeing to the rooftop."

You laughed at the mental image of Felix escaping in embarrassment whenever the topic of your first meeting was raised. "I guess it is a bit complicated.”

"You know..someone told me once that sometimes things are complicated because we're afraid of what's simple," Jisung replied.

You brought your bottom lip between your teeth as you considered his words. A comfortable silence settled between you, and you didn’t feel the need to respond.

The conversation concluded as you returned to camp. Felix looked up immediately upon your arrival, his eyes briefly meeting yours before glancing away. "See what I mean?"Jisung leaned over to whisper into your ear. A knowing smile tugged at his lips, and he winked at you before his steps carried him away from your side.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you walked over to Jeongin and offered him the canteen you had filled with water from the spring. His face brightened, although the weariness remained etched into his features. After taking a few generous gulps, he returned the canteen and nestled closer to Minho's side. The older boy's presence seemed to provide him with a sense of security as his eyelids drooped and he drifted off to sleep.

Across the fire, the rest of the boys rummaged through a sizable bag of supplies in search of anything to alleviate their hunger for the night. You found a quiet spot to claim for yourself. Sinking down against the cavern wall, you brought your legs upward as hushed chatter began to fill the chamber.

Felix couldn't help but steal a few glances in your direction as he tended to the fire. A sharp pang of jealousy resonated throughout him when he watched the way your eyes followed Jisung's reaction to something Changbin said, a wide smile forming on your lips in response to his infectious laughter. Felix didn't need to wonder what you thought of Jisung. Of course you liked him, it was impossible not to. And he couldn't even blame you for it because it was only natural that someone like you would be drawn to someone like Jisung.

After the group had eaten and settled in around the fire, Chan took the opportunity to share his first memory of Hira. He depicted her as a neutral force—neither entirely good nor entirely corrupt—but someone whom, for whatever reason, he'd always felt that he could trust.

When he'd finished, Chan passed the conversation to Jisung who proceeded to share a story about a mishap he and Seungmin encountered last winter, during a supply run in the same abandoned city you'd crossed through last night. The story involved a ridiculous chase through the streets, with Jisung somehow ending up as the hero. But Seungmin couldn't resist chiming in. "Hold on, hold on," he raised a hand with a sly grin, "Let's be real, less than half of that actually happened.”

Jisung responded with an exaggerated roll of his eyes, a playful retort forming on his lips as he prepared to continue the banter. Before he could, Felix chimed in. "Making things up again, Han? This sounds a lot like the time we all found out you can't actually tell edible plants from poisonous ones,” he teased. His eyes shimmered in the firelight, and when he smirked you couldn't help but appreciate the way it accentuated his canines.

Jisung let out an exasperated gasp. "I told you I was still learning!”

"I threw up for a week straight after you insisted it was safe to eat those purple berries! I thought I was going to die!" Seungmin exclaimed, failing to control his laughter.

Jisung threw his hands up in defeat. “Who even needs to know which plants are safe to eat when you can just charm your way into getting free supplies?" A sly grin fell across his lips but it vanished when Changbin added, “That only happened once, and wasn't it Hyunjin that actually did the talking? Pretty sure you just stared at your feet the whole time because you couldn't even make eye contact with the girl.”

Changbin’s response elicited chuckles from the entire room, yourself included. With a dramatic huff, Jisung turned and lie down on his side with his back to the group. He feigned annoyance, but was unable to hide his own amusement as his shoulders shook with gentle laughter.

After the excitement died down, Minho's soft-spoken voice broke the silence. He recalled a late night conversation with Jeongin not too long ago that had unexpectedly evolved into a heart-to-heart about their shared fears. When he was finished, he glanced down in fondness at the sleeping boy nestled against his side.

You leaned your head against the rock, allowing your eyes to close as Hyunjin began to share about a distant memory that involved his mother, with whom he'd spent some time in a cave like the one you found yourselves in now—before they had gotten separated. As he spoke, you tried your hardest to recall just one single memory of your own mother, but you were unable to move past a particular phrase that continued to linger in your thoughts.

You look just like her.

And then it hit you. A sudden blow, like a dagger straight to the heart.

What if Hira hadn't been speaking in general terms, about a woman from her past that you resembled.

What if she had been referring to your mother.

Your eyes snapped open and your posture straightened away from the wall as you tried to put it all together in your mind. You'd stopped asking questions about your mother a very long time ago, due to the anger that rose within your father at the faintest mention of her. He refused to speak about her, and so you had created a simplified narrative of your own—that she had been plucked from the residents of District 9 to marry your father for her social standing and wealth. But what if there was more to her, and your own origins, than you had ever thought possible.

Felix, who had been lying with his hands behind his head a short distance away, picked up on the change in your demeanor. Concern flickered in his eyes as he sat up.

"Hey, you good?" Chan's voice echoed from across the room as you realized that the rest of the group had fallen silent, their attention now fixed on you.

You managed a soft smile in an attempt to mask the intensity of your thoughts. "Yeah..just tired."

"Maybe its time we all get some rest," Chan responded.

As his suggestion was met with a general consensus of agreement from the group you cast a glance back at Felix. The fire's dwindling glow traced his features with delicate strokes, accentuating the furrow between his brow and the subtle tension in his jaw, before the flames were extinguished by Chan.

Ten minutes, twenty, an hour.

You tossed and turned repeatedly as restlessness consumed your mind, preventing you from succumbing to the fatigue that gripped your aching muscles. When soft snores began to fill the darkness, envy stirred within you at the boys' ability to find solace.

Maybe they were just desensitized to it all—the constant brushes with death, the daily ritual of having to bury their fears again each morning when they woke. Maybe with time you would grow used to it too. But tonight, the weight of it all, combined with the mystery surrounding Hira's final message had left you without any chance at falling asleep.

And although you didn't want to admit it, the notion slowly crept into your mind that the only reason you had gotten any sleep at all the past few nights was because of Felix. Especially last night—his steady heartbeat, protective embrace, and the comforting warmth of his body heat lulling you into a sense of security.

Maybe he wouldn't notice if you inched a bit closer..Just so you could manage a few hours..

A frustrated sound escaped your lips as you banished the thought, because it wasn’t fair to rely on Felix to chase away the darkness when you couldn't bear to face it alone. He had his own battles to fight, his own burdens to carry, and if he was going to drive the motorcycle then he probably needed the sleep more than you anyway.

Your eyes failed to adjust to the darkness when you sat up. Cut off from any sense of place and time, the air around you suddenly felt so thin, so scarce, making it difficult to draw in a steady breath. Your skin prickled as if tiny insects had begun to dig their way into your flesh, and you couldn't get it out of your head.

All of it.

Your mother, nothing but the faded memory of a woman with a face you hadn't known long enough to remember. Your father, with a face you would never forget, because it chased you in your own reflection. Hira's lifeless stare, empty and cold. The knowing look in Yeonjun's eyes when you left him behind to die. And Felix, who, even with a loaded gun pressed against his head looked to you as if your safety would always be far more important to him than his own.

“It gets easier with time."

You jolted, startled by a sudden voice that broke the silence.

“Falling asleep, I mean. It gets easier with time,” he repeated. His tone a calm and steady contrast to the turmoil in your mind.

"Then why are you still awake?" you remarked, lowering your voice to a whisper to keep from disturbing the sleeping boys around you.

Felix let out a soft sigh. His gentle breath mingled with the darkness that enveloped you both, and you sensed movement as he sat up somewhere close by.

“I didn’t say it gets easy, just easier. Besides..” he paused, a long pause. Hoping you wouldn’t be able to sense the struggle he faced to keep his emotions in check. "How am i supposed to sleep when you're breathing so heavily…it's distracting," he finally settled on. And you couldn't help but scoff at his feeble attempt at masking whatever it was that he actually wanted to say.

As the silence stretched on, the uncomfortable sensation of needing to escape your own skin grew unbearable, driving you to your feet.

"Where are you-"

"-The dirt, the sweat, the blood, I need to get it off. I just need to get it off." Without waiting for a response, you fumbled through the darkness. Your fingers met the coarse stone wall at your side, and you trailed along it as soft footsteps began to echo from somewhere behind you.

Cool mist fell against your skin as pitch-black was steadily replaced by calming blue. In the soft ethereal glow, you stepped over to the waters edge where you lifted your shirt and slipped out of your pants. All the while, your senses were acutely aware of Felix's presence behind you, his watchful eyes glued to your backside. He could have chosen to let you wander off alone, but some part of you knew he couldn't resist. And selfishly, you liked that.

When you entered the water it rippled around your waist. The coldness sent shivers throughout your body, but it was invigorating. A welcome sensation against skin that seemed to burn tonight. You took a deep breath, letting the weight of the past twenty four hours wash away when you submerged yourself beneath the surface. The water welcomed you into a desensitizing embrace and for a moment, only as long as you could hold your breath, the unpleasant images in your mind and your fears surrounding the war outside were replaced by complete and utter silence. Nothing at all.

You resurfaced facing Felix. His eyes trailed up and down your half naked form, lingering a bit too long on the places his hands always went first. Your heart skipped a beat when you realized that he was approaching. When he lifted his shirt, you couldn't help but take the opportunity to glance over the contours of his sculpted abdomen. He let himself down into the water and the soft splashes of his movements filled the silence between you.

“Maybe you should just…stay over there," you mumbled, averting your gaze from his chest.

You wanted him close, that you couldn't deny. But hours had passed since last night, and your panic had since died down—giving way to frustration once more. And it wasn't even about him nearly losing his life, it was about how that near-loss had stirred a depth of emotion within you that you could no longer control. You were frustrated with him for almost getting killed again, something that (this time) he'd had absolutely no control over. But you were even more frustrated with yourself for letting it affect you in the way that it had.

Felix raised his hands defensively, abiding by your demand to keep some distance. When he sank down into the water, the tips of his hair skimmed the surface.

"Princess..you alright?" his sudden inquiry caught you off guard. It was his tone, laced with genuine concern, that caused your heart to pound beneath the surface of your calm exterior.

No, I'm not alright.

Nothing about what happened last night is alright, you thought.

"Yeah, I'm managing," you said.

His lips curved upward, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Managing, huh? Guess you’re tougher than you look."

You rolled your eyes, a smile tugging at your own features when you responded. “And you? What about you?"

"I've been through worse,” he trailed off. A veil of shadows fell over his features and suddenly, Felix felt miles away. Worlds apart, as if he had been transported to some distant realm of memories that he would have given anything to forget.

“Chan told me a little..what you’ve been through is more than most people could handle, you know?” you hesitated, questioning if it was the right decision to acknowledge your awareness of his past. But the divide between you had always felt easy to bridge in moments like this, when it was just the two of you. Sometimes leading you to forget that it had even existed at all.

"He shouldn't have said-"

"-But I'm glad he did," you interrupted. "And I might not understand it all but I do know know that none of it is your fault, Felix."

Felix let out a bitter scoff, a defensive edge to his tone when he responded. “You don't know anything,” his eyes flickered back to you, and in them you saw a glimpse of the pain he carried beneath. When you took a step forward he retreated with a single stroke of his arms in the water—a reflexive withdrawal.

And then he sighed heavily, noting the subtle trace of hurt in your expression at his retreat. "I'm sorry..it's just..thinking about it, talking about it, its not easy for me."

“It’s okay,” you offered, making a conscious effort to ignore the compulsion to reach out and wrap him in your arms. To reassure him over and over again that he didn’t deserve the things he had been through. To make it clear that, in your eyes, Felix would never be to blame for his past.

Felix cleared his throat, his desire to avoid the subject prompting him to redirect the conversation. “What was that earlier with you? Around the fire."

Unsure of how much to reveal, you hesitated again, mindlessly tracing shapes on the surface of the water. "I think..there might be the possibility of a connection between my mother..and..Hira.”

Felix's expression transformed as he scanned your face in bewilderment. “What? What kind of connection?"

“Hira said I looked just like 'her', Felix, and I don't know why but I can't shake the feeling that she was talking about my mother."

"You think Hira knew your mother?” his mouth fell open, he looked at you as though you had completely and utterly lost your mind, and you really couldn't blame him.

“You heard her, you saw the way she looked at me," you pressed.

“Look, princess,” he insisted, drawn closer when he noticed the trace of sadness in your eyes at the mention of your mother. “I know Chan talks about her like she was a saint, but the woman was a lunatic. She didn't have any idea what she was talking about half the time, so don’t overthink it. Hira dealt with people from the outer districts, and she never went to District nine herself. It’s impossible.”

"Yeah..you're probably right." Mimicking his earlier movement, you lowered yourself in the water until it enveloped your shoulders.

After a moment you drew in a breath. When you went to speak, Felix did the same. Your words collided in the narrow space between you, and he chuckled softly, a warm sound that filled your ears. “You first,” he said.

"Today was..” you paused to recollect your thoughts, pursing your lips in concentration.

“I know,” he sighed. “It was a close call. We don’t have to talk about it.”

“Yes we do,” you asserted. “We should. I don’t know how any of you do this. Its like one minute everything’s fine and the next.." you let out a frustrated exhale before continuing, “And then they're just able to sleep like nothing happened?! Its like you’re all fearless.”

Felix's lips quirked into a small, sympathetic smile as he inched closer. “Fearless? Nah, its just survival, princess. You get used to it, you learn to move forward." His voice lowered before he added, "Even when you’re afraid.”

As you considered his words, you found yourself studying his eyes in search of a glimpse of his inner thoughts. Had Felix felt fear today when he was leading the chase from the guards? When Jeongin was injured? When the cold metal of the gun touched his skin?

“I wish I had that kind of strength,” you admitted.

“You’ve got your own kind of strength," he began. “You're here aren't you? And you had no problem revealing yourself to those guards last night. Why did you do that?"

You felt your cheeks warm as you looked down, gliding your hands through the water. "Isn't it obvious?" When he didn't respond, you sighed, glancing up to meet his eyes again. “I just thought that maybe it would buy all of you a chance at making it out of there alive."

"Exactly. And every single one of them recognizes that,” he stated, nudging his head in the direction of the passage that led back to the sleeping boys.

“But it still doesn't mean they trust me, right? Still doesn't guarantee that they ever will?" you returned, raising a single eyebrow.

Felix rolled his eyes, and when they reconnected with yours you held his stare, narrowing your gaze. "I shouldn't have said that," he muttered.

Felix was incredibly difficult to read, most of the time, but something about the sincerity in his tone and the pause in his speech made you believe that he really did regret what he’d said that night in Yellow Wood, about how the others might never trust you.

"No, you shouldn't have. But it’s okay." You shifted closer, and with the distance between you now almost nonexistent, even the atmosphere felt alive—charged with pulsing energy, as the water flowed like an electric current between you, prompting you to reach up and drape your arms around his neck.

As if your actions had given him permission, his own hands instantly found their way to your waist. Your legs lifted to wrap around him and the water responded with soothing ripples around your bodies.

With you in his arms, Felix stood. He waded backward until the backs of his knees hit the edge of the spring where he settled down against a makeshift seat embedded within the natural contours of the rock.

Straddling his waist, you brushed the hair from his neck and laid your head down in its place. Splaying a hand against his chest, you felt for the steady strength of his heartbeat beneath your palm. And you stayed like that for quite some time, drifting in and out of a light sleep as he traced idle shapes across your back.

After a while, your eyes fluttered open. “Lix?”

“Yeah?” his voice was a low murmur in your ear, soft and attentive.

“Promise me something?” you breathed.

Anything, he thought.

“What is it?” he said.

"Promise me you’ll try to be more careful from now on? Because..I don't think I could handle it..if..” you lifted your head from his shoulder as the words hung between you like a fragile, fragile thread. The confession was like a heated blade in your throat, searing it raw, and you let it burn. Because you couldn’t bring yourself to say the words that followed, paralyzed once again by the weight of your unspoken feelings.

But you didn't need to say anything further, because to Felix, it was obvious what you were implying.

I need you.

Your words from last night echoed in his mind. He remembered how desperate you sounded, how you'd pulled him with you as if your life depended on it.

He searched your face in a desperate attempt to understand how someone like you could ever be so concerned with the safety of someone like him. And he wondered if it was because, perhaps, you still couldn't see it—the stains of the choices he had made, etched into his soul. He wondered if he had allowed himself to become too wrapped up in his own feelings, creating a version of himself in your eyes that was far more forgiving than the truth.

When silence between you grew, his lips parted slightly as if he wanted to speak.

In another life, one in which Felix saw himself differently, he would have promised to be by your side for as long as you wanted him there. He would’ve kissed you deeply, and he never would have let you go.

In another life, it might have been the moment Felix realized that he was meant to love you.

But in this life, in this harsh reality, a silent battle raged on inside Felix—torn between his selfish desire for you and the instincts that kept him alive. He knew he couldn't promise you a life without danger, and he certainly couldn't guarantee you his survival. But goddammit Felix wanted nothing more than to swear that he would do everything in his power to try and stay alive. For you.

Overwhelmed by his feelings, your close proximity, and the fact that last night he had been come closer to death than he had in a very long time, Felix surrendered to that powerful, selfish desire.

"Yeah-" the word caught in his throat, as if he was afraid of what came next. Cupping your face with one of his hands, he added, "I promise.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into his touch, embracing the warmth of his palm against your skin and the reassurance in his grip.

"Besides," you started. “You can’t leave me alone with them. I'm pretty sure Minho and Hyunjin would plot to kill me in my sleep or something.” A soft giggle escaped your lips, and Felix couldn't help the wide, toothy grin that spread across his face at your attempt to lighten the mood.

“Please, Jisung would never let them,” he returned. And your raised eyebrows prompted him to continue. "I'm serious, in fact Jisung would probably prefer to have you all to himself," he insisted. And then, with a mischievous glint in his eyes, Felix gave a sudden squeeze to your ass with both hands that caused your eyes to widen.

"Oh really? Is that so?" Your fingers lightly traced a pattern on his bare chest as he hummed in agreement. "I don't know..maybe I should ask him myself just to be sure. You think he'd like to join us?" With a teasing smirk, you released your hold on Felix, stepping back down into the water and turning to face the direction you'd come from. Cupping your hands around your mouth, you began to call out "JI-"

"-Shhhh," the water splashed when Felix lunged forward. His arms encircled you from behind, grazing the underside of your breasts as he captured you in a sudden embrace. And a squeal escaped your lips when he pulled you with him beneath the water's surface. Coming up for air, you retaliated with a splash that sent a wave of water in his direction. His laughter echoed off the walls, deep and genuine. It was a sound you hadn't heard before, and yet, it felt as if you had been craving it for a lifetime. Soft crinkles formed around his eyes, and you wove another precious memory of the freckled boy into your mind.

Felix shook the water from his hair before catching you again. Your arms naturally reclaimed their place around his neck, your legs came back up to wrap around his waist, and the water rippled around your shoulders.

As you held each others eyes, his amusement gradually gave way to a more thoughtful expression.

“You know," he began, "Jisung..he uh..lost someone once. I think that’s why he’s like that with you, I think you remind him of her."

His words carried solemn weight, offering a touch of insight into why Jisung had trusted you from the very beginning. And a simple “Oh” was all you could manage in response, your heart breaking at the thought of Jisung carrying such pain beneath his hopeful, kindhearted exterior.

“But he’s better now, he's come a long way since then, mostly thanks to Minho,” he added. His expression revealed the traces of another painful memory, before he willed it away.

With you still in his arms, Felix reclaimed his spot against the edge of the spring. Perched just above the water's surface with his back supported by the rock and his legs dipping into the soothing water.

And while you considered his disclosure about Jisung's past, you realized that you had never truly known loss. You had forgotten your mother—had no memories of her touch, her scent, the sound of her voice—and because you had never really known her it had been a relatively easy loss, if any ever was.

You had lost Jisoo, but it was a different kind of loss—a choice you had willingly made that you hoped you would come to forgive yourself for some today.

But the mere thought of being forced to lose the boy with the stars in his eyes was crippling. You couldn't bear the thought of those stars fading away, because he looked to you like you were the one that had put them there. And it terrified you that some day he would pay the ultimate price for it, leaving you behind to grapple with a new kind of loss that you weren't sure you would have the strength to overcome.

"What?" Felix said, catching the intensity in your eyes as your fingers reached to play with the hair at the back of his neck.

“You almost died today," you stated. "For real this time."

His expression furrowed, and a gentle crease appeared on his forehead before gradually easing away. "Well..yeah," he shrugged, "I'm still here, though."

Here. With you.

You shifted underneath his stare, trying to reach a more comfortable position. Your hands found their way to one of his, guiding it to rest in your lap where you played with his rings absentmindedly.

Sensing your restlessness, Felix gently ceased the movement of your hands when he intertwined his fingers with yours.

“I don’t know how to do this,” you blurted. “And I'm scared, Felix. I'm scared that I’m too weak to handle it. That its going to get all of you killed.”

Felix frowned slightly before drawing you closer. “We all have weaknesses, princess," his eyes fell briefly to your lips before continuing. “Chan wants to save the whole goddamned world, and he gets so wrapped up in it that he forgets to take care of himself, too. Han—Jisung, I mean, trusts too easily. And Minho doesn’t trust enough, even when he should. Changbin is reckless as hell, if you think I’m bad, you should've seen him when we first met. Jeongin doesn’t want to hurt anyone, so he hesitates in situations where it puts his life at risk. And Seungmin is too damn smart for his own good, and he knows it, so his confidence gets the best of him sometimes."

He shook his head and you brought a hand up to swipe the stray droplets of water that fell down onto his cheeks, fingertips mapping out the constellations painted underneath. He closed his eyes in response, tilting his head as he welcomed your touch.

A brief, heart-pounding silence hung between you before you dared to speak again. “What about you, Felix? What’s your weakness?”

The freckled boy tensed beneath you. His jaw clenched, and for a long time he held his silence. Just when you began to brace yourself for the possibility that he might not respond, his eyelids gently lifted. His hands rose to cup your face, one of his thumbs traced your upper lip, and in another life you would have stopped him from saying the words that followed.

“You, princess. My weakness is you.”

You blinked, opening your mouth just to close it again. When Felix leaned in closer, you turned your head, causing his lips to lightly graze along the side of your jaw. "I thought I'd already be dead, if it were up to you," you mumbled.

“I shouldn't have said that..either," he stated. And when he pulled back to meet your gaze, there was a familiar intensity in his eyes. Felix looked to you like he did every time he wanted to fuck you, but there was more behind it now.

"You did say it, though. You said it, and you meant it," you pressed.

But you were wrong.

And it was driving Felix insane.

Because he was well aware of the simple fact that he should have meant it. That it should have been easy for him to hate you. After all, he'd never had a problem directing his disdain toward the world and its inhabitants. But there was something that stopped him from casting that hatred upon you. No matter how hard he tried.

"I wanted to mean it," he breathed.

And it was on that night, sheltered deep within a cave on the outskirts of District 6, that you realized what the others had meant when they spoke about the way Felix looked at you. As his deep brown eyes bore into your soul, they spoke volumes about the complexity of his feelings, far more than words ever could. That night, your feelings intertwined with his, and you did nothing to stop it. Shared vulnerability bled into deep affection and for the first time you chose to overlook the danger that came with it.

“Its driving me crazy, pretending I’m okay every time you get hurt. You do realize that, right?” you exhaled, reaching for the fading red handprints on his neck. But Felix intercepted your hand before it could make contact with his skin. Bringing it up to his lips, he kissed it softly.

“I’m sorry," he leaned in to press another open kiss your shoulder. It was gentle, it felt good, so you let him.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” his warm hands trailed up and down your back, chasing away the chill that had settled over your body, so you let them.

Felix knew he wasn’t good for you. He knew you deserved someone like Jisung, who would be able to bring out the best in you without even trying. Someone like Chan who you could grow with. Or Minho, who would challenge you to reach your full potential. But Felix was none of those things. Instead, he was selfish. Selfish, and pathetic, and cruel. And despite the fact that he knew it, despite the fact that he hated himself for it, he just couldn’t help the feeling he got every single time you looked at him like he was the only one you wanted.

Felix hated every part of himself, except for you.

"Tell me we shouldn’t do this,” you kissed him. A gentle kiss, pressed lightly to his bottom lip.

"We shouldn't," he exhaled against your lips.

"Tell me you mean it," you pleaded.

"I can't," is all he said.

And it was all you needed to hear.

You met his lips again and Felix eagerly fell into the kiss. He slid his tongue in your mouth and swiped it against yours, causing a breathy moan to escape you. His hands wandered up your sides where he squeezed lightly. Your teeth clashed, and when you pulled away for a breath he chased your lips with his own.

“Never again, remember?” you whispered, dragging your fingers along his temple, pushing back his hair.

“When I said that I didn't mean..I-I just meant that.." his eyes fell to your lap as he trailed off, making you aware of the slow grinding motion your hips had begun to trace against the growing bulge in his underwear.

A small sound of pleasure rose in his throat when you added pressure to your movement. You leaned in, your noses brushed, but before you could kiss him again Felix threw you off by widening the gap between his legs.

"What're you…"

“Use me, princess. I don't see anything wrong with that, do you?"

You hated the cocky expression he wore when he flexed the muscles of his thigh. You hated it, and before you knew it you were straddled around his left leg, silently cursing the thin material of your underwear as it was the only thing that separated your pooling heat from the bare skin on his thigh.

The gasp you let out turned to a whimper as he took hold of your hips and began to guide your pace, bobbing his leg underneath you. When your eyes fell to the obvious tent in his underwear, you pulled one of his hands away from your body to press his own palm down against it.

"Touch yourself, Felix. I don’t see anything wrong with that, do you?”

His breath hitched when you squeezed the hand over his bulge, and your pace slowed as you watched him comply. Bringing his hand up, he shoved his underwear down just enough to take out his hard cock, such a pretty cock, with a pretty pink tip. And you fought the urge to run your tongue along it—to taste the salty release.

Felix leaned back, locking eyes with you as he began to stroke himself, making your aching pussy involuntarily clench around nothing. When he bucked his hips up into his fist, you hissed at the sudden movement of his thigh. Your eyes followed the slow motion of his wrist, and as his thumb began to circle the tip, you decided that you couldn't fucking stand it anymore.

You leaned over and forcefully turned his head, placing a sloppy, wet kiss to his already parted lips. A rumble escaped his throat, and sweet, husky moans filled your mouth when you replaced the hand on his cock with your own.

It wasn't enough. It could have been, you knew you were close. One more flex of his thigh, a few more swipes against your sensitive clit, would have you tumbling over the edge. But his cock in your hand would never compare to how it felt stuffed inside your pussy.

Felix let out another low moan that turned into a chuckle when he watched the way your glossy eyes followed your hand as it moved up and down his throbbing length. "You know, you’re more than welcome to sit on my cock princess, if you think you can control yourself."

“Do you think you can control yourself if I don't let you touch me while I do it?" you managed.

Felix smirked in response, a dangerous smirk, dark eyes full of lust as he raised his hands dramatically before setting them down at his sides. And then your fingers were in his hair, trailing down his body, drawing a path with your touch. You pulled yourself back over to straddle his lap, and Felix moaned louder than you did when you pushed your panties to the side and sank down onto his thick length. Without giving yourself time to adjust, the burn from the stretch had you struggling to catch your breath, dizzy with pleasure.

Felix kept his hands at his sides as his hooded eyes trained to your chest. Sensing that he wanted to touch you there, you slipped out of your bra, cupping your breasts to tease him. He watched intently with his tongue between his teeth, and when your walls fluttered around him he let out a deep growl as his cock pulsed inside you.

Your fingers followed his eyes when they dropped down to where your bodies met—to your clit, where you began to rub lazy circles, causing his hands to twitch at his sides.

When he noticed the bulge in your lower abdomen, visible proof of how deeply he was buried inside of you, Felix thought he was going to lose his mind at the sight. His head fell back, and his Adam's apple bobbed as he tried to keep from painting your walls with his cum right then and there.

He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was a calm sea of black in place of the stars.

“I can feel how bad your pussy wants me to touch you, angel.” When you opened your mouth to protest, he stole a kiss from your lips, swallowing your words before continuing. “To wrap my fingers around your throat,” you shuddered when he brought a hand up to your neck, but he didn’t make contact with your skin. Instead, he used the hand to reach around and grab a fistful of your hair at the roots. You let out a whimper when he jerked your head to the side before leaning in to whisper against your ear. “To fuck you dumb on my cock.”

You moaned again and a strained “fuck” fell from his lips when you shifted in a desperate attempt to feel him move inside you. When he let go of your hair, you dropped your head to his neck, and your hums mixed together in a symphony of pleasure as you began to rock your hips. Shamelessly giving in to your body's desire.

“Ah shit, just like that," he groaned, squeezing his hands into fists where they hovered at your sides. The twisting pressure in your core had you whimpering into the hot skin at his neck, “touch me, touch me please,” and Felix wasted no time. He roughly grabbed your hips and slammed himself up into you, shushing the soft cries that spilled from your lips as a result. "Such a good girl princess, gonna let me take care of you now?"

You nodded, preparing for him to thrust into you again, but Felix did something unexpected instead.

He lifted you up over the edge of the spring, and you clung to him as he laid you down on top of the clothing you had shed before getting into the water. It provided a barrier between you and the cold surface of the ground, and once he was satisfied and made sure that you were comfortable, he ripped your panties off and dragged the flushed tip of his cock back to your entrance, parting your folds.

And Felix thought it was cute, when you looked up at him with big shiny doe eyes waiting for him to take you. So sweet, so innocent. And something about it made him want to ruin you until you cried, just so he could be the one to wipe your tears.

"Don't forget who owns this pretty pussy, sweetheart," he growled hot against your ear as his cock pressed at the entrance of your needy hole. You let out a pathetic whine when he stopped his movement.

"Please, it hurts," you begged, squirming underneath his hold as your release leaked out around his tip.

"Tell me who owns this cunt, and I might just give you what you want," he huffed.

Your nails dug into his skin, tears pricking at your eyes as you whimpered, “Y-you do."

“C’mon baby I know you can do better than that. Say my name, sweetheart.”

“F-Felix...you do Felix, please,” you gripped his shoulders tighter, fingers passing over rough scars on the skin underneath.

“Thats right,” he hummed, easing himself into you at an excruciatingly slow pace.

“Does that feel good?” he chuckled at the way your hips greedily met his. When he bottomed out, you pulled him down into another heated kiss just to feel more of him. And then he began to thrust, moving his hips at pace far too slow for your liking as he relished in the feeling of your tight walls sucking him in.

“S-so good, Lix, harder please. I can't-" Your back arched, your eyelids fluttered closed, and Felix had to bite his lip to keep from losing it at the sight.

“Yes you can," he purred, leaning down to whisper into your ear. "You begged for it like whore. So be a good girl and take it like one, hm?" And then without warning, Felix picked up his pace, drilling into you faster, deeper, harder.

You let out soft sobbing noises that he muffled with kisses—kisses along your jaw, down your neck, to your collarbones where he sucked and nipped at the skin. The marks he left behind would be covered by your clothing tomorrow, but they would be there, and only Felix will know it.

One of his hands snaked up to grab at your tits, then down to your clit where he pressed the pad of his thumb. He began to draw gentle circles, pushing you that much closer to your orgasm. And you didn't even try to hold back the loud moans of pleasure that escaped you as his thick cock bullied deeper into your cunt.

"'m fucking close, Lix-”

Felix was too, in fact he certain he wasn't going to last ten more seconds if you kept clenching around him. “I know-shit” he cursed under his breath, “But you’re going to hold it just a little bit longer for me.”

He pulled out with a deep groan and you let out a noise of protest at the sudden lack of fullness. "Shhh, I know but I haven't even gotten to taste you yet,” he muttered, shifting down to lower his face between your legs.

“Oh fuck-” your eyes shot open when you felt hot breath against the inside of your thighs. Your hands found their way to his dark locks, pressing his face into your cunt, and it was almost embarrassing how quickly you came when his broad tongue collided with your clit.

The pleasure was overwhelming as the orgasm ripped through. Felix continued to lap at you, collecting your arousal on his tongue. You cried out his name, over and over again, because you had forgotten everything else. And within seconds, before you had even come down from your own high, Felix was pumping his cock over your pulsing heat. He emptied himself on your pussy, against your folds, the warm sensation making you hiss.

After he had painted the most intimate parts of you with his cum, Felix took his fingers and spread his release over your overstimulated clit, making your legs tremble. And it took everything he had to fight the possessive urge to collect it on his fingers and push it inside your spent hole.

When the stars faded from your vision, you looked up to find him staring down at the mess he'd made. Eyelids half-open, lips parted in a daze. You reached down to collect some of your shared release onto your fingers and sat up to swipe it across his swollen lips. And then you kissed him, tongues meeting to taste the mixture of your releases. You pulled him back down without breaking the kiss, and he held himself up on shaky arms as your lips moved. Slow and passionate, wet and sloppy, as you inhaled each other in.

When the kiss broke, Felix pressed one final peck to your forehead before collapsing at your side, reaching over to pull you into his chest.

"You okay, princess?" his warm breath tickled your ear and you hummed in response. “Shit that was…you're so fucking hot."

"Never again though, right?" you teased, burying your face in his neck. Felix smiled softly against your hair, his chest shook with gentle laughter, and a sense of familiarity washed over you.

As if that very moment had repeated countless times before, in every single lifetime.

You stirred as the first rays of dawn found their way into the cave. Blinking away the grogginess, your body slowly became aware of the weight draped around you. Felix was still soundly asleep and you hesitated to disturb him, but the sudden need for fresh air pulled you gently from his hold.

With cautious steps over the rest of the sleeping boys, you made your way outside, momentarily taken aback by the bright golden rays that bathed the landscape. The sun's presence, without the usual cover of clouds, was a precious rarity—a gift that nature seldom chose to bestow upon the remnants of humanity. It called you to take a few steps further, to let it bathe your skin.

"Enjoying the view?"

You startled, cursing yourself for not paying more attention to the number of sleeping bodies in the cave. When your head snapped to the side you found Hyunjin perched on a large stone with a bright red apple in his hand and an open bag at his feet.

"Sorry, didn't mean to disturb you," you grumbled, taking a step back.

"Don't worry about it," he replied casually, "It's not like I own the sunrise." His tone suggested that he might actually be trying to lighten the mood, to lessen the tension between you, and the surprise must have shown on your face because he let out a light chuckle before taking a bite of the apple.

"Hungry?" he asked. "You didn't eat much last night."

You hesitated, caught off guard by his observation. "A little, yeah."

"Here," he reached down into the bag and pulled out a second apple, tossing it to you. His eyebrows lifted when you caught it with ease. And then he shifted, as if he was making space for you to sit beside him. You paused, studying him for a brief second before accepting the invitation and settling down at his side.

"Thanks," you stole a quick glance his way before biting down into the fruit, appreciating the crisp sweetness as the juice ran down your chin.

"I've known Felix for a long time, y/n," he suddenly blurted out. Your chewing slowed as you turned your attention to him, intrigued by the sudden change in topic. "He's good at adapting, but I'm not sure he knows how to handle anything beyond survival anymore.”

After a moment, a half-smile ghosted across Hyunjin's features and he continued. “Felix is who he is. He isn't going to change for you, and he doesn't need the distraction. Just be careful with him."

"Because you weren't?" the words tumbled out before you could stop them.

"Something like that," Hyunjin's response was measured. They had history. You'd sensed as much, understood that some level of complexity existed between Felix and Hyunjin that wasn't there between the others.

When Hyunjin stood, he tossed his apple core aside and your eyes followed the movement, catching on one of his fingers—adorned with a ring that matched one of the rings Felix wore. The sight was like a punch to the gut, a tangible symbol of their bond, forged through circumstances that you couldn't even begin to understand.

“You’re wrong,” you stated as he prepared to leave.

His steps faltered, but he didn’t turn back around to face you when he spoke. “I’ve known him a lot longer than-“

“-Not about Felix,” you interrupted. “About me. I don’t have any desire to change him. I like the way he is because its whats kept him alive.”

Hyunjin stood motionless, as if he was choosing his next words very, very carefully. “You should try to get some more sleep before the rest of them wake," he stated plainly. And then, almost as an afterthought, his voice dropped before he added, "Didn’t sound like you got much last night."

Embarrassment fell over your entire body as he disappeared into the cave. With a heavy sigh you opened your hand, letting the half-eaten apple roll to the ground in front of you as the sweet flavor turned bitter in your mouth.

Upon re-entering the cave, Hyunjin was nowhere to be seen, leaving you to assume that he’d gone to the spring to clean up.

When your gaze shifted to Felix, still asleep where you had left him, your heart sank. Beads of sweat dotted his forehead and the anguish etched across his face was unmistakably characteristic of a nightmare.

You stepped closer, concern deepening with each passing second as you watched his eyes dart behind closed lids. Kneeling down beside him you extended a hand, positioning it above his shoulder, but as your fingers inched closer you were abruptly halted by what fell from his lips.

It wasn't merely the despair in his voice that seized you—no, it was the word he spoke that left you frozen in place.

A simple word, whispered like an agonizing plea.

Your name.

Swallowed by darkness, he's stumbling forward but he doesn’t remember how he got there. His knees hit the ground, and he closes his eyes but he can still hear them. Heart-wrenching sobs echo in his ears, sending a shiver down his spine, because he knows it is your voice that they come from.

When he looks up, he sees you on the ground up ahead. Hunched over with your head in your hands and your back turned to him, your entire body shakes with each pained sob. He approaches you cautiously, heart heavy with concern. He reaches to place a hand on your shoulder, and he is surprised to find that your skin is ice cold.

When you turn to meet his eyes, your tear-stained face contorts in anguish and confusion. "Why?” you croak, your voice trembling.

The accusation in your gaze is like a stab to his heart, something he can't bear to see, yet his eyes refuse to close. “Why did you do it, Felix?” you continue. Your sobs turn violent, and his heart breaks as he is forced to watch your pain. He tries to speak, to beg you to forgive him for whatever it is he has done. Yet its as if his lips have been sewn shut, his tongue far too heavy to move. He extends a hand to wipe your tears, but you flinch away from his touch.

And suddenly you’re standing, facing each other. He doesn’t remember how it happened, but he is relieved that your sobs have ceased. He is relieved, until the newfound stillness brings a fresh wave panic to his veins. Because your sadness has been replaced by fear. And as your bloodshot eyes stare directly into his, Felix realizes that it is him, you are afraid of.

You breathe, but it is a ragged breath, as if you are struggling to draw in any air at all. "I trusted you," you whisper, but your speech is gargled as if you are being choked by something. Droplets of crimson fall from your mouth, and his eyes widen in horror as your lips tinge red with blood.

A final tear travels down your cheek as you lower your head. And Felix follows your eyes down, down to where his hand is tightly clutched around the blood-soaked handle of a knife.

A knife adorned with an intricate floral design, mercilessly embedded in your heart.

Part 7

thank you so much for reading<33 if you would like to be added to the taglist please don't hesitate to let me know :)

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#lee felix x reader #felix x reader #lee felix au #stray kids au #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #stray kids angst #skz angst #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #skz fan fiction #lee felix #felix #felix smut #lee felix smut #stray kids smut #skz smut #skz felix

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my-cabbages-gorl · 10 months ago

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fave zukaang moment from the show? or top 3?

WOOO I am so sorry it took me forever to get to this, veggie!!!! but hiii thank you for this ask I will take any excuse I can get to talk about these two.

There are SO many haunting, gorgeous moments of connection between these two in the show I could choose! There are the obvious ones; fighting to protect each other's lives in the Blue Spirit episode, the "do you think we could have been friends?" moment, all the times Aang chose to spare Zuko's life, or when Zuko begs Aang to let him join their group and says "you know I have good in me" (that one is.. just ouch it's so gut-wrenching). But, I live for the moments when their irrevocable entanglement gets hit with a spotlight.

There are so many little scenes throughout the show that highlight how they are fated to be in relationship with one another. They're circling each other like Tui and La. Whether people ship them or not, their platonic relationship is arguably the core of the show. In the Seige of the North, Part 2- I think it's so symbolic that Koh the face stealer delivers his monologue about the moon and ocean spirit while in the real world, Aang (the incarnation of hope and good) is literally in bondage as Zuko (the physical manifestation of the war between good and evil) is choosing evil and risking the fate of the whole world just to save whatever shred of his own ego he has left.

When Aang asks about the moon and ocean spirits, Koh says: "Their spirit names are Tui and La, push and pull. And that has been the nature of their relationship for all time." Then later in the conversation he continues, "Tui and La, your moon and ocean, have always circled each other in an eternal dance. They balance each other, push and pull, life and death, good and evil, yin and yang." The fact that Zhao is attempting to capture and kill the moon spirit in order to make a name for himself, the same way that Zuko tries to kidnap Aang to deliver him to death (or at least torture and captivity) at the hands of his father to try and make a name for himself is a really nice parallel for what's being explored in their dynamic. It feels so clear (at least to me) that Aang and Zuko are a spiritual metaphor for this eternal dance- their past lives and ancestors disrupted the balance of harmony because of their broken relationship. And, now they're circling one another, mirroring one another, chasing one another in order to redeem the arc of their history- which the future of the world has always depended on. And, only when they enter into balance and harmony with one another will there be any hope for righting the world. That was SUCH a long winded way to talk about one of my favorite moments lol. And, I get that it might be a stretch but I live for the deep, convoluted metaphors of story. And Zukaang has plentyyyy of content for that sort of thing. Which is probably why I can never get over them hahaha. Honorable mention: in the final battle when Aang, the "enemy" that Ozai and his predecessors fought so hard to eradicate, spares Ozai's life when he redirects his lightning. It's so symbolic because he's using the technique that his OWN son- whom he abused and betrayed for choosing to nurture the shred of good in him- had a hand in bringing him down in the way that embodies the ultimate, humiliating antithesis to his character; 1) deep relationship and intimacy with the Avatar (the personification of good and hope) and 2) mercy.

#shit i did not mean to pop off like that #i just couldn't stop once i got going #zukaang #zukaang meta #zuko #aang #avatar the last airbender #atla meta #platonic zukaang

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moonrisecalamityretreat · 2 years ago

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supporting role || loic || re: kazuo, mio, mikazuki, maxime

It’s over. The votes are set in, and Loic feels a weight that’s the mass of at least a small asteroid leaving his shoulders. This isn’t a victory. Nothing in this place amounted to a victory, but it was something to celebrate. Who wouldn’t be overjoyed at knowing that the brother you thought you could lose, whose loss would haunt you more than anything else possibly could in the world, would be just fine?

Loic slumps over at his podium, panting and gasping for air like he’s just run a marathon. It had been the most important performance of his life, and, were it not for the tragic and grotesque circumstances surrounding it, he would even consider it his best. The convenient thing about being nothing more than a pathetic people pleaser is that you know precisely what people hate just as much as you know what they love.

He only pulls his attention away from the floor once Maxime speaks to the bunnies. His head raises in attention, and he keeps his gaze steady on his brother. Like in most things, he’s content to let Maxime dictate their direction…And that’s the direction it’s going, then. For anyone who looks away from the star of the show, they’ll see a complete lack of surprise on Loic’s face. He, after all, has always been aware of this plot twist.

“...I’m sorry…Loic. This isn’t…what I wanted to--”

“You don’t have to apologize to me. I’m okay. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere, I promise. Ever.”

It had been a conversation they’d had before…Before. But it still rings true. He wasn’t going anywhere. From the moment Maxime had come to him for help, he’d made his peace with the fact that he would be utterly alone regardless of if their plot worked. The choice between the people here and his brother was simple.

His attention is broken away from his brother by a sharp pain in his cheek, and he once again has to lean against his podium. It hurts. He’s never dealt with pain well, and the wound on his arm is beginning to win against the painkillers that he took to help with their performance. Just a bit longer. Just…Just a little bit longer. He just has to hope that Futaba won’t give up all of the hiding spots he’d told her about. Maybe he should find some new ones.

The threats against him are meaningless. This was the fate he’d resigned himself to gladly. To try to use him--someone who knew the risks and still took them--against Maxime is…

When Maxime beckons him over, he complies, letting his brother fuss over him even if he continually whispers assurances that I'm fine, that it’s okay, you don't have to worry, it doesn’t hurt that much. After the older man has finished saying his piece, Loic straightens his spine and pulls back his shoulders, standing at his full height for the first time since the last trial. His typical nerves still make themselves manifest with how he fiddles with his bracelets in front of him, but he looks out at everyone with a frown on his face.

“Quit using me like some sort of bargaining chip or--or whatever you’re all trying to do. Don’t threaten him through me. I might be spineless, but it’s not like I’m going to sit here and be your--your personal punching bags. A-And, Maxie, stop--stop acting like you held a knife to me and forced me to help. I knew what I was doing. You’re my brother. I love you. I-I wasn’t…I couldn’t let you…”

He doesn’t want to finish the sentence, unwilling to think of a world where things hadn’t gone according to Maxime’s plan.

Mio’s words drag his attention away from his brother, and he feels that sting of loss. Even if he’d prepared himself for it, it doesn’t make it any easier to swallow. It had been a good friend. An amazing friend. But amazing people like her were more than allowed to decide that they’d had enough of deceit and lying and the cruelty that Loic had put her through. He gives her a small smile, but it has that same resignation from before--acceptance, even.

“Thank you for our time together. I liked being your friend. Thanks for playing Battleship with me and planning the party, too. It was fun.”

For several seconds, he stands by his brother, looking off at some point in the middle of the floor. This…should be a private conversation, but he doesn’t…know if they’ll ever have one of those before. Even if he makes it out of this trial room, he knows what his actions in this room have led to: ire from all sides. It’s deserved. He doesn’t fault anyone for it. It’s just reality. So, he has to say it now because he might never have the chance to otherwise.

“A miserable brother would have let child services take me in.”

Loic says this and looks back at his brother, another smile crossing his face, but this one lacks any sort of sadness. It’s fond.

“I know you won't leave me here. We’re a team. Us. You said that when we first found ourselves here, didn’t you? I believe you--No, I believe in you. What little brother wouldn’t believe in his older brother who practically raised him? It’s not like Mom and Dad ever checked if I was doing my homework or if I was going to bed on time when I was little, Maxie. I know you’ll be back. And you don’t need to be a villain to protect me.”

His smile twitches up a few watts, and he tilts his head.

“I can take care of myself. I’ll be here. I told you before, didn’t I? I’m not going anywhere, promise.”

What everyone here doesn’t understand, in his opinion, is that he’s more than capable of withstanding poor attitudes and violent outbursts, even if it’s been years and years since he’s experienced them. That’s what knowing that there’s someone out there who’s looking out for you does for you: it reminds you of how to keep going, even if it means keeping your head down and slinking through the halls to keep your personal apocalypse from reawakening early.

Now more than even back then, Loic is assured of one thing: Maxime will come back. That’s enough. He’ll stay here with the rest of these people, and it’ll only be a matter of time.

Even if everyone else here doesn’t see it anymore, Loic knows, beyond anything, that Maxime is reliable, and he always will look out for him. Always.

#ch4 #luca

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beels-burger-babe · 4 years ago

Text

With You Always

***So I really really really love this idea, but I'm going to tweak it just a little bit so rather than only seeing them in mirrors, MC can just always see them when the brothers aren't around. This one is going to take place after they return to the human realm. I'm also going to be using he/him pronouns for the crush that'll be mentioned. I figured since all the dateables in the game identify as male, it'd be a safe bet. Thank you so so much for this creative request @gender-less-lemon (also I freaking love your profile picture. Monster Camp/Prom is hilarious)***

Summary: An average day of high school with MC...and the seven pact manifestations that haunt their vision.

TW: Bullying You were awoken not by an alarm, or your guardian, or even some random noise from outside, but rather a phantom gnawing on your arm. With a groan, you blinked open your eyes and saw just your regular old room, with one minor difference; a spectral red bear was happily teething on your elbow. You chuckled and pet the manifestation, noting the brightly glowing symbol of gluttony resting in its stomach. "Okay, Beel," you mumbled to yourself as you dragged yourself out of bed, pushing the purple translucent calf sleeping on your stomach, in the process. "I hear you." Ever since you had returned to the human realm, you had been followed around by spectral manifestations of the seven pacts that you owned. By the looks of things, no one else could see them, and they only appeared when the connected sin was active or needed, but it helped you feel less alone. You missed the brothers more than you had anticipated. It was more than a little bit of a culture shock to go from being loved and spoiled every day to being the misfit in your high school. Speaking of which, you needed to get going if you weren't going to be late. As you rushed around our room frantically grabbing the things you needed to get ready, the calf-like manifestation of sloth sat on your bed mooing in complaint. You sent a glare over to it as you finished collecting your belongings. "Trust me, I rather stay home and sleep too, buddy. But I have to go." Grabbing some fruit on your way out the door, you just managed to make it to school on time. Now it was simply a matter of surviving the day.

In all honesty, you preferred RAD to high school. In RAD, the subjects were interesting and grasped your attention without any problems at all. You had friends, even outside of the brothers. Sure there were always demons that would talk down about the kid human that clung to the demon lords, but you had the brothers to protect you. It was nice.

Now that you were back in the human world, you had none of that. In fact, you were even more of a misfit than when you were before. The teenager that vanished for a year and came back weirder than before; that was you. At first, you couldn't get people to leave you alone, but once they realized you weren't going to give them answers they backed off. You would occasionally laugh or whisper to the manifestations, which would earn you some more than weird looks, but you didn't care. These weird little ghost-like creatures were one of the only things you had connecting you to the Devildom. They meant more to you than anything else. As you entered your classroom, you had to bite back a laugh at the sight of one of your classmates looking around in confusion as, unknown to them, a golden yellow crow flapped around their head and pecked at the shiny earrings they were wearing. You took your seat in the back of the classroom and watch in amusement as the crow continued pecking at the various belongings of students, causing subtle chaos and confusion. Leave it to Mammon to make your day even when he wasn't actually there. Your teacher walked in and sat down in his chair. "Alright, class. Today we're going to continue with our history presentations. Remember these were subjects of your choice, so I do hope that you can at least pretend to be interested," he sighed and pulled out a clipboard. "Looks like the next person presenting is...MC." You winced and looked down at your notes. The topic was definitely one you were confident in, but to present it in front of your class. What if no one liked it? What if people laughed? What if- You felt a nudge on your arm. You glanced over to see a dazzling blue peacock, straightening its long neck out high as it puffed out its chest. The pride manifestation gestured forward with its head and almost seemed to smile at you. You smiled gently as you felt warmth grow from his pact mark on your inner wrist and stood up beside the peacock. It cawed and began to strut forward, leading the way to the front of the class. The mental image of Lucifer doing the same almost caused you to burst out laughing. You finally turned to the class and held your head up proudly as you began to speak. "My presentation today will be on biblical demonology and the way it has evolved throughout the eons of its existence." It was the best presentation you had ever given in your life. Riding off of the high from history class, the day seemed to fly by. Before you knew it was time for lunch. The bear was back, this time just softly moaning it continued butting your back with its head in an attempt to get you to go to the cafeteria faster. With one particularly heard shove, you were sent stumbling forward, directly into the chest of someone. "I'm so sorry! I'm a total clutz. I just tripped, I hadn't meant to-" you cut yourself off as you looked up and noticed you were looking at your crush. Your jaw snapped shut as you felt your face suddenly become uncomfortably hot. He smiled and waved off the apology. "It's alright. Just an accident right?" Your face became even hotter as you noticed a bright pink rabbit jumping up and down happily behind him. "I- Uh...Ehm...Y-Yeah! Yeah, t-totally an accident. I'm seat so I should go find my hungry. I-I mean!" He chuckled and nodded. "No worries, I get what you're trying to say. Enjoy your seat, MC," he gave you a wink, causing you to squeak as he walked off. You glared down at the rabbit running happy circles around your feet and the red bear that was sulking guiltily in a corner. "I blame you two for this." With an embarrassed huff, you entered the cafeteria and found yourself instantly wanting to walk back out. Everyone was laughing and talking with one another in their friend groups at their tables. Some gossiped eagerly over a magazine. Others sat silently with one another while they gamed or read books. There was even a table where a group of theatre kids were drumming out a soundtrack beat on the table while singing their favourite

songs. You ducked your head down and grabbed a tray of food before moving to the lonely table in the back, doing your best to ignore the giant orange snake that slithered between the tables, occasionally hissing and tripping students. You tried not to think of how you could be just like those groups of laughing friends, if only you were still at RAD. Your heart ached as you thought about the brothers. Maybe you could call them tonight. You let out a heavy sigh as you stood up and went to leave. You had almost made it to the door when a familiar face stopped you. Standing just a couple inches taller than you, surrounded by their groupies, was your tormentor, Taylor. You weren't entirely sure why they hated you so much. You just knew that they did, and that it got even worse when you came back from the Devildom. Taylor smirked with their arms crossed over their chest. "Where do you think your going? You haven't come to say hello yet." You scoffed and tried to walk past them. "Leave me alone, Taylor. I'm not in the mood for this today," before you could get very far, you were harshly onto the floor, stealing the breath from your lungs. You gasped and glared up at them. "What the fuck?!" The bully just sneered down at you. "You may not be in the mood for this, but I am. You know I heard about your weirdo presentation. Demons? Really? What are you, a satanist?" Their word choice was really ironic, for at that moment you noticed the large, white unicorn with flaming green hair and eyes appear behind them. The beast stomped its hooves and whinnied dangerously. You gulped nervously and looked up at Taylor. "Even if I was, it's not your business. I just find the topic interesting is all." You went to stand up, and therefore force the angry horse with a horn away from Taylor, but were stopped as they placed their foot on top of your chest. "I bet that's why you have all those weird tattoos, huh? What did you run away and join a cult for a year? Freak!" You could feel Satan's pact mark on the back of your neck grow hotter and hotter to the point that you were concerned the manifestation may be trying to summon him. Your eyes widen as you noticed it back up a few steps and point its horn at Taylor. You knew that the creatures normally could do small interactions with others, such as tripping or pushing, but you had never seen them attempt anything so violent. You couldn't just let it kill someone. "STOP!" The cafeteria fell quiet, but you weren't looking at them or even Taylor, you were looking at the unicorn. The manifestation neighed in frustration and jumped around, but obeyed your command. You slumped in relief. Looking back over to Taylor, you found them glaring down at you like you were nothing but a bug. They opened their mouth to degrade you even further when a teacher finally stepped forward. "What is happening here?" You walked over to the unicorn while Taylor fed the teacher a handful of lies. You leaned over to the manifestation and whispered under your breath. "Thank you for trying to protect me, but you can't hurt people. Just leave it be." The creature snorted and nuzzled your shoulder. In comparison to the hectic lunch hour, the rest of the day passed by with ease. In no time at all, you were back home in your room. You had just plopped onto your bed, when you heard a familiar ringtone. You smiled brightly and quickly grabbed your D.D.D. before immediately answering the phone. "Hello?" "Oh, you answered that quite quickly," you grinned at the surprise in Satan's tone. "I was just calling to-" "IS THAT MC?! GIMME!!!" You laughed as the sounds of Satan yelling and running from Mammon came through the other end. There was a yelp, a bang, and a victorious whoop before you could hear the device get picked up by someone. "'Hey MC! How was your day? I hope you didn't miss the great Mammon too badly. N-Not that I've missed you or anything just wanted to know how you're doin' is all." Belphie's purple calf climbed its way into your lap once more as you gently patted its head.

"I miss you too, Mammon. And today wasn't bad. I'd say it was pretty average overall." You could hear Satan growl in the background before there was a loud thud followed by a scream from Mammon. Satan took the phone back. "Just average you say? Nothing special?" You frowned and narrowed your eyebrows in confusion. "No, why?" To your right, the unicorn neighed softly and plopped down beside your bed. "Well, I could've sworn I felt our pact become triggered at some point today and...Well in all honesty I was concerned. We worry about you getting hurt without us there with you, MC." You couldn't help but smile softly as one by one each of the manifestations of your pacts made their way to your bed and laid down. "I know," you replied affectionately. "Though I'm never completely alone. So long as I have my pacts, you guys will always be with me." ***This was such an interesting concept to toy around with. I hope this wasn't too confusing and actually makes sense 😅😅 Thanks again for the amazing request @gender-less-lemon!***

Taglist @thegrimgrinningghost

@henry-and-the-seven-lords

@satans-beloved-riv

@cosmixbun

@sufzku

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fic #obey me headcanons #obey me lucifer #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me asmodeus #obey me satan #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me demon brothers #obey me pacts #obey me requests #teen reader #teen mc #b requests

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yostresswritinggirl · 4 years ago

Note

Can I get a request where Xiao has a Adeptus! s/o and how the relationship would work? (Small little side note: I imagine it might be a bit of a slow burn too)

I was gonna pick an angst prompt but I had to hold back, considering he might not come with angst u_u Let's hope he and everyone enjoys this enough that he manifests for my next set of pulls ywy

Catch Your Breath

Xiao x Adeptus!S/O in Headcanon form (masterlist)

Background

You've long known Xiao ever since he ascended to be one of the strongest Yakshas, a part of Rex Lapis' unit that you tended to the most. Because you are still under the guidance of Skybracer, you are not meant to fight in the battlefront, but to assist your fellow adeptis and the mortals who needs you.

You and Xiao became close upon the defeat of the Lord of Vortex Osial and the unending manifestations of his rage, which came to haunt near your domain, making it easy for you to detect the demons and alert everyone of the dangers that were to rise.

Somehow out of them five, you felt more attached with the humanistic yet feral Xiao. While you mingled with them five in assurance that they were still sane and stable, he resonated with you more due to his form resembling your being better.

And his strength and restraint came into par when he saved you from Menogias' rampage, of which he himself had to stop together with Bosacius.

Your days after that were filled with nightmares over the loss of a great Yaksha and your near-death experience. You still continued your duties of observing the demonic activities but your held reservation and distance when interacting with the Yakshas, Xiao was especially aware of this.

Finally one day he worked up the courage to enter your domain and approach you, and after several coaxing you finally broke down with all your fears and restless nights poured onto him. And he was silently consoling.

After that Xiao started coming over every night before you were settling to rest, finding his presence always managing to chase away your nightmares, and it would be a thousand years later that you'd come to realize that he had been eating your bad dreams to make sure you rest well.

In time you both ended up becoming each other's pillar of support during the archon war and even after that timeline, you still find (and needed) the comfort each other brings.

The relationship only ever started when he found out about the implications through his observation of Verr and her husband, realizing that he too longs for a similar fate with you.

Thank goodness you felt the same way, even if it took thousands of years of hiding.

Skybracer and the Guardian Yaksha

After the death of Skybracer, you took on his role and domain to honor your mentor. You may not be as strong or suitable to make the same sacrifice as he, yet you held your own fairly well in protecting Liyue, enough that the humans from the distant Harbour knew and kneels to your presence.

This might be why Xiao despises the pilgrims that stubbornly seek out the adepti in their domains, because he knew of how pressuring and adamant they can be on their desperation. And the inability to grant them divine blessings gnaws at you at each rejection you had to offer.

He has a special connection to your Domain too in the sense that he is hyperaware of those that enter and leave your area. When he senses intrusive humans entering, he would be by your side immediately to confront them if they so wish to be stubborn under his presence. Most of the time you had to calm him down yourself, because not a lot of humans that dare look for you understood the connection between you two.

In all honesty, barely anyone knows the nature of your connection with Xiao besides those that are extremely to you two.

With the war long gone and Osial's dark manifestations temporarily ceased, both of your work were cut significantly. Your nightmares had stopped half a thousand years after the leave of the last Yaksha, but you know well that Xiao now had to fight with internal demons he himself cannot escape.

Whenever he was on the verge of breaking, he immediately comes to you and drops into your arms without a second thought, your energy and comforting touches enough to pull the binds away from his soul. And it is only there that Xiao would fall into a very rare slumber that you dare not disturb.

Unlike what many others would think, Xiao's love language comes in the form of physical touches. This could be because of your background together that had gone eons ago even before the great scarcity of Yakshas. He feels safer and more composed when your presence washes over him, and whenever you hold his hand, instead of stains of bloody wars it was washed away by your gentle grip.

He feels very clean and pure when with you, melting at every soft touch you offer and gravitating to your fleeting hand before he knew what he was doing. In your domain Xiao is the most vulnerable and honest. His guard is gone and his arms are uncrossed, it only intertwines when it surrounds itself around your form.

He spoke of the flute that saved him once, by the Anemo Archon. And upon this knowledge the two of you started divulging into the art of the wind instrument, finding that it does indeed have a grounding effect on him. Upon your urges, Xiao ended mastering the skill and honing it whenever he needs it. This doesn't mean his trips to you lessened, but his visitations would be accompanied by the tunes of his flute to grace you with the performance as a thank you for accommodating him.

Surprisingly (yet also not) between the two of you, Xiao has a better grasp on the standard of romances because of his exposure to the mortal realm, and he guides and experiments with the bases under your consent together. Soon enough his keen eyes had come into fruition upon your both masteries on passing up as a true couple in human standards.

To demonstrate this, you both had a date with your illuminated garments reduced to the simplest form of casual wear local to Liyue. Which you then used to stroll around the Harbour without being static on an area for too long. You met Madame Ping and Ganyu on the road, and they both wished you luck on your leisure after catching up.

While you are content with the way things are until your prolonged mortality finally lets you rest, Xiao had been thinking about traveling Teyvat to see the beauty of it alongside you. The Traveler had been very successful in influencing him lately, and soon enough he shall offer the question.

It is then that you are to decide on your next course of actions, which would ultimately advance your relationship.

Honestly almost went overboard again on this. I was honestly very tempted to sleep but I got scared Xiao might really just not come *cries* I'm about to whale at this point.,,

@kookieyachi @struggljng @bunniesrorange @anormalguyreader @zelos-simp @legionqueensav @snackgod @rxsalinee @cala-ran @wind-wheel @lilydewi22 @yellowflowre @traveler-lumine @nonniechan

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #Xiao #Xiao x reader #exile.flower #exile.goblet #genshin impact headcanons #sojourner specials #gender neutral

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ghirahimbo · 3 years ago

Note

"2. Suddenly pulling them in for a dance." - Ghiralink, perhaps? (Sorry incase that's not really your thing anymore! Feel free to pick another ship <3)

Yeah… yeah, that’s still my thing T-T lol, thanks for the prompt! This one was fun 😊

Post-canon, vague master/sword AU, ghiralink-ish

—

The spirit maiden danced with a grace befitting her divine origins, little though Ghirahim liked to admit it. Moving so lightly through the lively steps that her feet might have been floating, he could almost believe that she still bore Hylia's feathered wings on her back, tucked somewhere outside of physical sight. Link danced like a log in comparison—though on second appraisal, Ghirahim had to give him more credit than that. The boy wasn't stomping on Zelda’s toes, after all, unlike Fledge dancing nearby with poor Karane. Link's style consisted of accuracy without artistry, though with enough enthusiasm to almost make up for it. How odd that all his light-footedness seemed reserved for the more violent dance of swords, where he moved nimbly enough to keep even Ghirahim on his toes… a nod to his true calling, perhaps?

Privately savoring the notion, Ghirahim lounged against the wall of a newly erected building, only half noticing the wary looks he received as he watched the festivities unfold. These Skyloftians-turned-surface dwellers still feared him, despite the months he had served already as their hero's sword—a primal fear, perhaps, unless that fool Groose had secretly run off at the mouth. Link and Zelda had agreed from the start that certain aspects of Ghirahim’s past were best kept hidden, his previous master and role in Zelda’s disappearance highest among them. He had certainly not done anything overtly threatening to the residents of this tiny, budding village—and yet, they feared him.

The whole situation fell well beneath his notice, though he’d caught Link frowning over it more than once. Link was frowning at him now, Ghirahim realized, directing it over Zelda’s shoulder as they turned in sync, and he met it with a scornful expression of his own. What had Link expected him to do here tonight? Mingle?

The music finally paused as the lively song wound to its end, prompting the dancing couples to bow and switch partners (in Karane’s case with remarkable alacrity). Link leaned in towards Zelda, whispering something in her ear before vanishing into the milling throng, and Ghirahim half raised an eyebrow. Likely he'd just gone for more food, though Link might have finally tired of this tedious celebration. Compared to the more demonic gatherings Ghirahim knew, this less raucous human affair contained a disappointing (if expected) lack of bloodshed—though of course, those had often erupted haphazardly in the throes of battles won. Not like this one, which commemorated nothing more than the laboriously slow growth of food and its eventual harvest.

Another song started up, slower than the last but no less cheerful. Fledge had moved on to his next victim, some girl in a bandana and horrifically flared pants whose name Ghirahim had never bothered to learn. Zelda had produced a harp, wandering to join the musicians with plucked out harmonies that flowed from her fingers with ease, and Link…

Ghirahim frowned when Link’s bobbing green hat still had not emerged among the dancers. The food tables remained conspicuously absent of green, as well. If Link thought he could escape on his own while leaving Ghirahim here waiting—

A hand grabbed his arm, pulling him from his perch by the wall, and if he hadn’t had that hand memorized from the hundreds of times it had gripped his hilt, Ghirahim might have expressed his surprise in regrettably drastic fashion. Instead he let it pull him through the crowd until they reached their apparent destination, and it slid down his arm to grasp his own blackened hand, while another reached up to rest lightly on his shoulder.

Ghirahim blinked. Link smiled blandly up at him.

"Care to dance?" he asked, a bit too late for etiquette's sake considering that the dance had already started. Link's cheeks shone pink from the exertion of tromping around with Zelda, and his messy hair, mercifully absent the hat that always covered it, felt deceitful in how easily it had disguised his presence. Sweat clung to the base of those dark blonde locks—the reason for the hat's removal?

Ghirahim's legs moved automatically through the simple steps as he considered his young master, who made a brave attempt at leading with that unfortunate portion of his usual grace.

"Presumptive of you," he murmured, just loud enough to be heard over the din of laughter and music. "Any particular motive for such impertinence?"

Link had the nerve to look confused.

"You like to dance," he said, as if that was answer enough. Perhaps it was. Link wore his cheerful naiveté like a cloak sometimes, and even Ghirahim couldn't always sort out how much of it was real, and how much artifice. "Someone had to ask you?"

The hint of a question?

A number of potential reactions ran through Ghirahim's mind, considered and discarded in quick succession. He could extract himself easily enough, leaving Link clutching nothing but vanishing diamonds. He could also stand stubbornly still, refuse to dance, and let Link discover just how easily he could drag around a sword that didn't want to move. He could reject Link quietly—dramatically—at knifepoint, even—but…

A quick glance around revealed their audience. Though most had the sense not to stare openly, nearly every couple surrounding them shared the same nervous, almost scandalized smile, as if they feared the consequence of making their amusement too obvious. The spirit maiden in particular watched him closely, keeping a pointed eye on him over her harp though her lips shared the same bland smile as Link.

There would be no consequence, of course—Ghirahim wouldn't risk this precarious arrangement with Link simply to save face in front of some humans—yet neither could he let anyone think him scared off by something as innocuous as an invitation to dance. The steps themselves were straightforward enough, easily gleaned through his brief time spent observing… and as Link had pointed out, he did enjoy it.

His lips curved into a grin.

"I accept your request," Ghirahim said, and the moment Link started to relax, added, "but I will not be led."

Link's eyes barely had the chance to widen before Ghirahim spun him around, reversing the position of their hands.

Backpedaling to match Ghirahim's smooth advance, Link's startled face swiveled between watching Ghirahim and his own two feet in a desperate attempt to avoid being trampled. Lack of practice in this secondary role made him even less sure of his steps than before, though Ghirahim managed to steer them without incident through the greater pattern of dancing couples, humming in amusement as Link fought with surprise against an unexpected dip backwards.

"Come now, Link, have I ever allowed you to wield me with so little poise?" he hissed, the tip of his tongue whipping out mockingly as he raised Link back up. "If you favor only my sword with your attempts at finesse, I will begin to be jealous of myself."

Face red now from more than mere exertion, Link opened his mouth as if to protest—and closed it again, his lips forming a thin line of determination. An abrupt change swept over him, as drastic as if a switch had been pressed, and his stance shifted along with his center of gravity. Back straight with just a hint of fluidity, eyes blazing with the same defiance that had caught Ghirahim’s interest from the very start, Link danced, the superior reflexes he showed in battle at last made manifest.

Ghirahim's own eyes glowed. So Link had finally remembered that he held a sword.

"You've been holding out on me," he whispered, uncertain if Link could hear him or not. Experimentally, he directed Link with a light hint of pressure through a gliding spin, and found him as responsive an opponent as ever. "I should punish you for that."

Except that Link had held out on the spirit maiden first, and only for Ghirahim revealed his true potential. There was a pattern to that, he decided, glancing once more at Zelda and relishing in her look of surprise. Her chosen hero could never have defeated Demise without trying himself again and again on Ghirahim's sword first, and he hoped at times that his necessity haunted her.

The music picked up in pace and volume, the steps coming quick and intense. Link said nothing—he never did in the midst of battle, as silent as stone and just as unyielding—but perspiration broke out in beads along his face, trailing down the edge of his jaw. His hair swept and stuck in strange patterns across his forehead, disheveled but not wholly unappealing. Link might still have lacked a certain flair to his movements, too direct and to the point for Ghirahim's taste… but style could be taught. Idly, Ghirahim considered other dances he might teach this man if he was amenable, of perhaps less wholesome origins—dances whose quick, subtle movements pushed the bounds of even his own abilities, requiring strength in muscles Link likely didn't know existed. What was a dance without challenge, after all… without something a little more physical?

For now they moved through this tamer dance of Hylia's people, both withdrawing and rejoining as the pattern of steps demanded. The outer world fell away as their attention narrowed in on small details—the clash of eyes and brush of skin—blue on black and flushed tan on cool, steely gray—

And the music ended in a moment of silence that rang out unexpectedly. Laughing chatter burst to life, as abrupt as it was unwelcome, and the spell between them broke. Panting, looking slightly dazed, Link gave Ghirahim a bow that he returned with almost his usual smoothness, convincing himself that he had not been nearly so affected.

"Satisfied?" he asked softly, with the hint of a smirk—and was taken aback by the positively sly look Link gave him in response.

“Well…”

Brushing his hands together and placing them on his hips, Link gave a show of looking around meaningfully, and only then did Ghirahim realize how the tenor of the voices surrounding them had changed. Those glances sent his way felt more curious now than wary, and the bubble of instinctive fear surrounding him had all but vanished—his presence made human in their eyes at last by his part in the harvest dance.

"It's a start," Link decided, wiping sweat from his brow and settling his pointed green hat at a jaunty angle on his head. "I’m done dancing for the night, but you keep going if you want. You looked like you were having fun.”

With a wink, he turned to leave, and Ghirahim couldn't help but admire his exit. Link really was as conniving as any demon he’d ever met at times, though to completely different ends.

A nervous cough caught his attention, and he glanced down to see Fledge looking up at him anxiously. From the flurry of motion around them, it was time to switch partners for the next dance.

“U-um,” he managed to squeak out. His face, torn between pale white and deep red, had settled on both in splotches. “Everyone else is, so do you… I mean, are we supposed t-to…?”

Ghirahim snapped, leaving Fledge gaping at vanishing diamonds, and as he left caught the edges of Link's laughter. Conniving indeed, he thought, though at least in that as in so much else they were equally matched.

#writing prompts #ghiralink #ghirahim #my writing #I’ll probably post this to ao3 some time tonight

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carryonthroughtheages · 3 years ago

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Hello everyone!

Another year of Carry On Through The Ages is over and done! We have emotions and exhaustion, but we're so happy that this year had the hype and excitement that it did.

Thank you, from the bottom of our hearts, to all of the AMAZING creators who spent the last several months working away at their historical content!

Thank you also to the hard-working mods: @bazzybelle, @giishu, @palimpsessed, and @xivz . This fest would not have been as successful as it has been without you!

We encourage everyone to look under the page break for all the fics and art. They're all fantastic!

Here is the link to the AO3 Collection: Carry On Through The Ages 2021!

Thank you all, and until next year! 🧡🧡🧡

MONDAY:

1) sun on the sea (T) - @trenchcoat-moth : AO3 // Tumblr

Tensions run high in England, and Malcolm decides it's for the best he sends Baz to live with Fiona, where he'll be safer.

That is, until Baz's ship is attacked.

2) The Words I Long To Say (M) - @bazzybelle : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow was dead.

Baz Pitch was sure of it. Simon had gone away seven years ago to fight a war in the jungle and he hadn't come home.

So, when Simon shows up in Baz's club, investigating a string of brutal murders, all Baz wants to do is hold him close and never let him go.

But these aren't the same boys from 1960 and Baz has a lot of processing to do before he's ready to believe in Simon again.

3) we are slaves to gods, whatever gods are (M) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 // Tumblr

I don’t fully understand what plagues him, but I know it’s bad, and I know it goes deeper than guilt. He didn’t want to kill his father, not really, but we were instructed to do so by Apollo. Cleanse the house of its sins, dispose of a murderer to set things right. It was only right that I join him; he was avenging my mother as much as his. Clearly, Apollo didn’t seem to consider that such an act would make Simon a murderer in his father’s place. It seems I got off fine, but as far as Simon is concerned, the vengeful spirits that once spun and danced on the roof of the palace now hunt him down, determined not to stop until he rids the world of himself.

4) World War II Era Art - @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr

TUESDAY:

1) the art of loving you (E) - @one-more-offbeat-anthem : AO3 // Tumblr

1955. London. Young love.

Forbidden love.

A year ago, starving artist Simon Snow met Baz Pitch, son of a wealthy art patron, at a party, and their days (and nights) together have been a wonderful secret.

But Simon is tired of being a secret and knows it's time for things to end.

(Baz has other ideas.)

2) Reliquary of an Arsonist (T) - @tea-brigade : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon Snow grew up a ward of Watford Abbey, but when his magic manifested in an explosive accident as a child, he became the Abbey’s anchorite—never to leave Watford’s walls, for his own protection. That is, until Abbot David sends him on an important errand…

Basilton Pitch paints portraits for his patron, Lord Grimm. But he’s never forgotten the magic he learned from his mother—nor the men who condemned her to death as a heretic. When Simon arrives and offers Baz a commission from Watford Abbey, he sees his chance to avenge his mother once and for all...and he’s willing to burn down everything in his path to that end.

But it was no coincidence that pulled these two unlikely souls together. Something more sinister is underway at Watford Abbey, and only Simon and Baz can uncover the truth before everything goes up in flames.

3) Westward Son (E) - @aristocratic-otter : AO3 // Tumblr

Simon and Baz have found each other again, but there's nowhere in Brooklyn or Virginia where they can safely be together. So now, they venture the hazards and struggles of the Oregon trail, to perhaps find a little homestead in Oregon of their own.

4) A Way Out (T) - @lying-on-the-sofa : AO3

I frown at him..“You don’t know me.”

He offers his hand. “Simon.”

Simon. I feel the name around in my mind and assign it to his face. Simon. I don’t shake his hand. They’ve still got my arms pinned. “Basilton.”

Simon nods at me. “Now we know each other. Let him go.” Very casually, he takes his other hand from behind his back. A sword, flashing. He leans on it and smiles invitingly. “Let him go.”

This time, they listen.

Simon Snow has been trained for years to become a tribute—one of the fighters Athens sends every ninth year into the Minotaur’s labyrinth. He wants to know the way out, if only for Penny’s sake. Luckily for him, Prince Basilton of Crete also wants a way out—off the island, where no one will know he’s the half-brother of the Minotaur.

Unluckily for both of them, they don’t exactly form the most agreeable pair.

WEDNESDAY

1) long is the road the leads me home (G) - @wellbelesbian : AO3 (Version 1) (Version 2) // Tumblr

Baz has a rather unremarkable life, and he's fine with that. Running his late mother's beloved inn with his temperamental aunt, estranged from his father and step-siblings, he's successfully convinced himself that he's better off without attachments.

Then Simon barrels into his life, guns blazing and rapier drawn, and Baz is swept up in dramatic plot he never bargained for.

Worse still, he finds he quite likes the thrill.

2) New Romantics (T) - @ninemagicks : AO3 // Tumblr

Basilton Pitch, twenty-two years old and a famed poet of the Romantic era, has fled to the countryside. In Mummers House, the fabled haunt of literary greats, he sulks himself into oblivion and awaits a sad, disappointing end to his brief years of brilliance. The cause of his downfall? None other than Simon Snow, the so-called “bad boy of English poetry”, breaker of rules and eternal thorn in his side. Baz hopes that Mummers House might mean an escape from London, from Snow and his increasingly virulent popularity... but the rain that comes has other ideas.

3) thnétos (T) - @snowybank : AO3 // Tumblr

thnétos: subject to death, mortal

a retelling of Apollo and Hyacinthus

4) A Medieval AU art piece - @thewriterxj : Tumblr

THURSDAY

1) From Eden (E) - @orange-peony : AO3 // Tumblr

I wonder if his skin is warm or cold to the touch. I tell myself it’s simple curiosity, that I’m an artist and capturing things on paper or canvas is my way to make sense of the world. That drawing him feels so natural, so I should just follow my instincts. Ebb used to say it all the time. Follow your heart. It knows where you’re supposed to go.

I wish I could. I wish I had enough money and freedom to just draw what I want. To paint him in his unattainable beauty. To draw him the way I want to. Naked and vulnerable, raw. Without frills and expensive suits.

Just Baz on paper, my fingers tracing his delicate and beautiful lines with simple charcoal.

2) Slings and Eros (M) - @palimpsessed : AO3 // Tumblr

Young god of love Simonides is tasked by his father, the god of war, to bring about the ruin of a mortal prince to punish his blasphemy. However, once Simonides sees his intended victim, he begins to have misgivings. Prince Tyrannus might have offended the gods with his very existence, but all Simonides can see is how beautiful and lonely he is.

Or, a very loose interpretation of the Eros and Psyche myth.

3) I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire (M) - @knitbelove : AO3 // Tumblr

September 1940: Going back to Watford feels different this year, and not just because England is at the brink of war with Germany and Italy. Penelope seems unsettled by everything, and Agatha is distant, and Baz is … simply not here.

What if Carry On but during the Blitz?? Yeah.

4) A Fool's Oath (M) - @thewriterxj : AO3 // Tumblr

A simple soldier is invited to join the ranks of the royal guard. He and his appointed mage arrive at the royal city to find themselves at the mercy of an unmerciful court. As he struggles to find his place in this foreign environment, he also finds himself entranced by music that only he seems to hear that floats out about the city. He makes an oath to wed whoever makes such beautiful music.

Too bad that person is the crown prince.

FRIDAY

1) Stranger Tides (T) - @tea-brigade & @xivz : AO3 // Tumblr

“If some god shall wreck me in the wine-dark deep, even so I will endure…” Captain Simon Snow of the Chosen One is many things—cunning, handsome, ruthless. Greedy. It’s no surprise that Snow finds a way to piss off the God of the Sea, he always manages to get himself into some type of trouble. This time, however, he’s not the only one who will suffer the consequences. Poseidon promises to not stop his pursuit until Snow and all of his men are dead.

Enter Basilton Pitch—rich, beautiful, mysterious. Suspicious. He offers the crew of the Chosen One a hefty sum to take him back to Europe from the Caribbean. And who is Captain Snow to refuse so much coin? After all, Greek gods aren’t real.

Right?

2) The wayward heir [comic] (M) - @letraspal : AO3 // Tumblr

Like a folk song, our love will be passed on. Simon Snow wants to be an artist. He used to live in Fiesole where he worked in the wool shop of his good friend Ebeneza Petty. He has now chosen to return to his native Florence in order to participate in an art contest hosted by the Pitch family, the most important bankers in all the three continents and Simon’s last chance for an art patronage. No matter how much he hates them.

But being back in Florence also brings back the memories Simon wanted to leave behind : his days as an orphan, the mystery about his mother, and once more being under the inquisitive eyes of his godfather, the new archbishop Davy. The archbishop is very same man who would never forgive him for dropping out the priesthood and ruining his secret plans against the Pitches.

The last thing Simon needed was an unbearably handsome jerk getting him into trouble on his very first day in Florence. How can focus when this man is the most annoying person he has ever met and yet his major source of inspiration.

3) Prohibition Blues (T) - @heyyyandrea : AO3

Simon Snow is a baker and aspiring playwright in Prohibition Era New York City. When he meets a handsome man at Shepherd's speakeasy who is interested in his work, he can't help but think it feels too good to be true.

4) Earth Below & Sky Above (M) - @phoxphyre : AO3 // Tumblr

In the depth of the palace of King Minos of Crete lurks a creature known as the Minotaur.

Baz, prince of Athens and chosen of the god Poseidon, has heard the stories. And now he’s volunteered to come to Crete as one of the annual tributes—to dance with the king’s bulls and fulfill his destiny. He just wants to survive the bulls, protect his people, and go home.

But what if the Minotaur isn’t a monster—but just a boy? And what if instead of slaying him, Baz fell in love with him?

A Carry On retelling of the myth of Theseus and the Minotaur, set in Bronze Age Crete.

5) A 1980s AU Art piece by @stardustasincocaine : Tumblr // Instagram (Slightly NSFW)

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pinkchanelbag · 4 years ago

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truthfully, miserably. [m. fushiguro]

the truth came to him like a drowning man’s first breath, but came far too late; you were already long gone.

cw: literally just angst.

wc: 1.5k.

note: this doesn’t even have a plot??? it’s just me directing my bummed out energy on my poor baby megumi i feel so bad i have to like write him fluffly headcanons or something after this.

“you’re lying.”

megumi stiffened his body to suppress the shudder that passed through him. he worried that those words would haunt him for the rest of his life.

how terrifying it was to watch himself become undone by those two words. he’d known himself to be an honest man, a good man. it didn’t ever occur to him that lying about something as intangible, inconsequential as his own feelings could hurt someone; could make him a worse person.

“it’s not the right time. i’m too busy to worry about you more than i already do. i can’t worry about your feelings too.”

it had been a harsh statement but an been an easy lie. so easy that he was mildly convinced of it himself until the moment you’d pulled it to pieces before him and turned your back on him with a suitcase in one hand.

you’re lying.

a dark feeling manifested in his gut at knowing those were your last words to him. knowing the last time you looked upon him, your face was pulled into something like disbelief, hurt, hopelessness, and tears sat in your eyes but didn’t fall. it was the face of a person spread thin, a person giving up.

the night was windy enough for it to be noticeable. the breeze tossed megumi’s hair before his eyes and obscured his vision of the train station.

he had stayed behind when the first and second years and gojo sensei accompanied you in farewell.

“you sure?” gojo sensei had asked with a titled head and rare genuine empathy.

“don’t think she’d want me there.” part of him had believed it to be true, but another part of him, the part that sneered at his cowardice knew it was also because he hadn’t come to terms with his own actions. he hadn’t been ready to face you after being hit with the crushing reality of his own deceit. part of him couldn’t make himself process that the hurt in your face wasn’t because of his words, but because of the fact that you knew they weren’t true.

gojo had simply sighed, paused for a few beats before saying,

“utahime will text me as soon as she’s picked her up from the station.” the sorcerer’s intuition had let him on to the circumstances, and it was that intuition that knew megumi would benefit from being reassured of the girl’s whereabouts. knowing this, megumi had thanked his sensei with deep sincerity, a rarity of his own.

he didn’t even know why he’d come. you’d departed before the sun had gone down. a creeping feeling told him it was because he should have been there. a part of him felt like he’d arrived several hours late to the most important encounter of his life.

he supposed he was here because it was the last place he knew for a fact that you’d been in; that a few hours ago, you stood on the platform. maybe your fingers tapped against the handle of your suitcase like they often did when you felt anticipatory. maybe you smiled at the others with your eyes and hugged them with your whole body. you’d always had a way of pouring every single thing in your heart and mind into your interactions—your eyes, words, your touch. megumi had always seen it as both powerful and stupid. you were truer than any other person he’d ever met. your heart teetered on your sleeve, but it was by no means weak. you felt with no shame or inhibition, and it was your superpower. but the way you couldn’t—wouldn’t—mask your feelings in any way made you an exposed nerve. you were all offence and no defence. at first, to megumi, it was irritating. he hadn’t liked being called out or being slapped in the face by your vulnerability and not knowing what to do with it.

then he came to know you. irritation turned to apprehensiveness; the feeling of wanting to grab you by the shoulders and shake you into some sense. to tell you to not be so open. a feeling as if he was constantly worrying about a toddler falling off a cliff. but you never changed, and he got somewhat used to it. and then he knew it was you, and knew he wouldn’t want you differently. then, unexpectedly, he came to like, even to admire, that quality in you. the anxiety never went away. all that had changed was that the more time he spent around you, the more he needed to protect your heart as you never would.

it’s not the right time.

it was a lie. and he of all people should’ve known better than to believe it. after having lost too many people far too soon in his life, he should’ve known that time becomes inconsequential, in the end. he should’ve known that you knew, which justified your look of incredulousness at his words. he wondered if you, with your terrifying ability to see through his every atom, had known that he didn’t truly mean to lie, because he had convinced himself of something that wasn’t true. megumi’s own heart answered painfully. of course you’d known. how long had you been wrestling with his iron-grip emotions before you gave up on trying to help him see truth?

it had taken far too many hours, but the initial shock and cowardice had just about worn off. on the dark, empty platform, megumi faced himself. not for his sake—for yours. for what you had been trying to do for him before he’d pushed you away more times than even your kind soul could handle.

with a lump in his throat, he thought about and acknowledged that as much as he should’ve known to cherish people before they were gone, he equally held himself back from growing close to anyone for fear of how badly their loss would hurt him. your closeness scared him more than any other because he knew that if anything ever happened to you, anything at all, he’d never be the same. it wouldn’t matter if you healed from whatever physical or emotional scars had been caused. megumi would never be able to feel like he belonged to the same world that had done you harm. his fists clenched in anger. and what had he done, exactly? he’d been the one to hurt you in a selfish pursuit of preservation.

you’re lying.

he’d been lying. he could own up to that now. he had to make his amends in some way, and not in hopes that it’ll make you give him another chance, but because you did what he hadn’t. you’d acted selflessly for his sake. you’d tried to help him be better, you’d tried to love him and to tell him—because i like you, fushiguro—to tell him that and whether or not you were around or would ever be around again to witness it, he would be better. and he’d start with this.

what’s the truth?

there was little thinking involved in what happened next. it wasn’t a conscious thought at all. it wasn’t so different from finally emerging from too much time spent underwater and the way your body pulls a dizzyingly deep breath into your lungs without your conscious decision or consent. for megumi, that was what it felt like to realize he loved you.

he choked on a sob as the words piled into existence. i love you.

he’d never been open emotionally, particularly with intimate feelings. that was why the conviction and forwardness with which he felt this truth shocked him—or would have, if he could’ve focused on anything else. vaguely he wondered if this is how you felt all your emotions. with such ferocious acceptance that no one could possibly mold them into weakness when they felt so much like strength.

i love you.

his body was nearly aglow with it. it bubbled up inside him and threatened to spill over.

“i..i love you.”

for just a moment, two opposite universes crossed. he stood inside that unfulfilled reality, where on this platform on this day he’d arrived before the sun had fallen and said those words to your listening ears rather than to deserted train tracks. he looked between himself and the reality where he’d done right by time, and he didn’t know which was the ghost.

“i love you.”

he spoke the words to the wind, and it heard him and whistled in empathy, but it would not carry his message to you.

“i love you...i love you.”

megumi watched those words that scalded the inside of his mouth materialize only to be carried out of existence. without you to hear them, they meant nothing, no matter how much they felt like breathing fire. but for all their uselessness, he didn’t dare to not say them, even as they burned his lips. for one thing, they were the truth.

“i love you,” he said miserably. “i love you. i love you. i love you.”

right person, wrong time. how backwards a saying that was. he scoffed tearfully. not even the watery eyes took away from the dry, bitter expression on his face. he was the one—he had wronged time. how long had he spent deluding himself about all the reasons he should let you go? the timing had always been right—he was what was wrong. and now you’d broken his heart like he’d broken yours. his tears sunk and hid into his pores and his face turned to stone, and you were gone, and he’d never love again.

#megumi fushiguro x reader #megumi fushiguro #megumi headcanons #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro imagine #megumi oneshot #megumi smut #jjk x reader #jjk angst #fushiguro x reader #nia.megumi #nia.txt

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fridayfirefly · 4 years ago

Text

The Power of Luck [Chapter One]

Read The Power of Luck on AO3

Masterlist [All Works]

Masterlist [The Power of Luck Series]

Written for Maribat March Day 6 - Miraculous Side Effects

The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects. Marinette was able to think quick on her feet, she was a skilled tactician in battle, and her reaction time was half that of a normal human. Most notably, the Ladybug Miraculous granted its user the force known as Miraculous Luck, which, depending on the situation, was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. Marinette didn't get to choose how that good luck manifested. For instance, when she needed an extra day to finish a history project, her school closed down due to a gas leak. Or when she wished for a fresh start after the defeat of Hawkmoth, her parents were offered a deal to grow their bakery business in America.

Marinette assured her parents that she didn't mind moving. After all, most of her class had already moved on. Lila had been deported to Italy, narrowly avoiding jail time. Chloé (much to her dismay) was sent by her father to an all-girls boarding school in England. Adrien was taken in by his Aunt Amelie (as Gabriel was in jail and Emilie was declared brain-dead) and moved to England as well.

No one else from Marinette's class left the country, but many of them moved out of Paris. Nathanial was accepted to an elite art school in Marseille. Max was accepted to a gifted program at an elite school in Bordeaux. Officer Raincomprix was transferred to Toulouse and took Sabrina with him. Juleka and Luka both started homeschooling after their mother sailed the houseboat down the Seine to the city of Rouen.

Worst of all was the loss of Alya. Her parents were horrified that the son of Hawkmoth was in the same class as their daughter, and promptly pulled Alya out of class and decided to move out of the city. Alya begged them for weeks but nothing came of her protests. In the end, Alya left too.

The Miraculous Luck could do a lot of things, but it couldn't keep her friends together. Those who remained at François Dupont filled holes in other classes. Marinette tried to make the best of her new class, but she felt no real connection to them. When her parents proposed the move, Marinette jumped on the opportunity. In Gotham, she wouldn't be haunted by the ghost of her old life.

Marinette cut her hair, leaving it choppy and just above the shoulders. She donated all of her brightly colored clothes to the thrift store down the street and created a new wardrobe for herself. It was toned down and mature, much more fitting for Gotham.

Marinette left Paris a much different girl than the naive fourteen-year-old who thought she could save the world. She was ready for a city like Gotham, a city that didn't make any promises, a city where Marinette could set down some new roots.

-----

At first, it was easy to fly under the radar at Gotham Academy. It was a school filled with the self-absorbed children of millionaires and billionaires, after all. Marinette was there on scholarship - her good grades, leadership experience, and working-class parents combined to cut her tuition down by 75%. Marinette quickly learned that scholarship students were at best ignored, and at worst mercilessly bullied. So Marinette kept her head down and vowed that she would get through the year unscathed.

There was one variable, however, that the Miraculous Luck wasn't able to account for. Marinette's entire plan fell apart thanks to one boy: Damian Wayne.

Marinette became acquainted with Damian Wayne through the school's rumor mill. She learned that he was one of the most wealthy and most attractive people in the school, but he was thought himself too good to spend time with any of his fellow classmates (Marinette couldn't fault him on the last bit; she also found the students at Gotham Academy to be difficult, to say the least). Marinette also learned through the school's rumor mill that Damian spent quite a lot of time staring at her. Given that Damian had never paid the slightest amount of attention to a Gotham Academy girl before, this was a big deal. Suddenly Marinette was the farthest thing from under the radar. Everyone who used to look down on her wanted to be her friend. It was exhausting.

Marinette resolved to ignore Damian Wayne - an easy task, given that she still didn't even know what he looked like. Now that everyone was staring at her, it was hard to

"Why?" grumbled Marinette. "Why couldn't my so-called Miraculous Luck help me get through one normal year of school?"

Tikki shrugged from her spot inside of Marinette's backpack. "Maybe all of this attention will turn out to be a good thing?"

"I doubt that." Marinette glanced around, checking that no one had spotted her talking to her backpack. There was one spot in the cafeteria that was hidden from view, a window-sill nestled behind a pillar, bordered by a wall on one side and an out of order vending machine on the other. Marinette sat on the window-sill every day to eat lunch, with Tikki as her companion for the meal.

"I think your problem is that you're overthinking this. Miraculous Luck always works out in the end, even if there are some obstacles in the middle."

"I just want this horrible school year to be over," sighed Marinette, setting her head down in her arms.

"Don't give up yet, Marinette. I have high hopes for this school year," said Tikki.

Marinette had some serious doubts but picked her head up anyway. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out the way she expected. Marinette defeated Hawkmoth, the greatest villain Paris ever faced. She could survive a year of high school.

-----

Marinette was going to survive her senior year of high school. Damian Wayne on the other hand... Marinette still wasn't sure if she was going to let him survive the year, after everything he put her through.

"Excuse me?" a sickeningly sweet voice piped up from behind Marinette.

Marinette put on her best disinterested-face, took out one headphone, and turned around. "Yes?"

There were three girls standing behind her: a blonde, flanked on both sides by a brunette and a red-head. The blonde girl had a smile on her face but a devious look in her eyes. Marinette had long ago learned to spot manipulators, and this girl had it written all over her. "Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Yes."

"My name is Julie Cooper. I was just wondering... Are you dating Damian Wayne?"

Marinette huffed in exasperation. "What do you think?"

Julie's eyes narrowed. "I just wanted to warn you. I mean, did you really think that Damian Wayne would seriously date a girl here on scholarship? You should break up with him before you get hurt."

"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not dating Damian Wayne. It's just a rumor."

Julie instantly perked up. "Oh, good! I was beginning to think that Damian had lost his mind. I mean, I'm sure you would be a nine or a ten at a public school, but at Gotham Academy, you're like a seven, maybe an eight on a good day. Most of the girls who go here are actually hot, not just," the girl waved her hand towards Marinette. "Above average."

Marinette wasn't sure if Julie meant for her to feel flattered or offended, but her words had the strange effect of making Marinette feel both all at once. "Um, thanks? I'm going to go now."

Julie's brunette friend suddenly paled as the girl started to tug on Julie's sleeve. "Um, Julie?" she whispered.

"What, Nora?" Julie's eyes widened as they fixed on something behind Marinette.

Marinette turned around to see what the cause of their concern was. Or rather, to see who the cause of their concern was. It was a boy, tall and scowling. "Are you done here, Cooper?"

Julia nodded, a nervous edge to her voice, "Bye, Marinette." She and her two friends hurried off, exchanging frantic whispers.

"What do you want?" asked Marinette with a sigh. She was tired of dealing with boys who were only interested in her because Damian Wayne was interested in her.

"I wished to apologize."

"For Julie? Did you put her up to this?"

The boy looked confused. "No, of course not. I meant that I wanted to apologize for everything, not just Julie Cooper."

"For everything?" The truth suddenly dawned on Marinette. "You're Damian Wayne! I didn't think that you would be so tall."

"You didn't know what I looked like?" There was real shock in his voice.

"Well, by the time I learned that you had been staring at me everyone was staring at me, so that wasn't much help in figuring out who you were."

"You could have googled me."

Marinette shrugged. "I could have, but it felt weird to google one of my classmates. I pretty much just resigned myself to never figuring out who you were."

"I should have approached you sooner. I've wanted to apologize for a while, but every time I've caught you alone you've looked like you wanted to be left that way."

"I'm not a fan of most of the students here."

"The students here can be..." Damian searched for the appropriate word. "Tiresome. I resigned myself to a dull four years of high school in their company. That is, until I saw you."

Marinette cocked her head. "Why me, though? I'm nothing special."

"You're different than everyone else here."

Marinette stiffened. "I know. I've been told. I'm here on a scholarship which means I don't belong," she snapped

Damian shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You move through life differently than all of the other students here. You don't care about the gossip or drama - at least, not until you were right at the center of it all. You've seen the real world, so you float above the high school drama. You're just so... so..."

"So what?" Marinette's tone softened.

Damian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. The addition of the messy hair added a certain charm to his otherwise polished exterior. "I've been brainstorming for the right word for weeks. The best I can come up with is pure. You don't let yourself become affected by anything in this school."

It was a very flattering description of her. It was also very on the nose. "I'll forgive you, Damian Wayne, but only on one condition."

"What?"

"I want to get to know you, and I have a feeling that you feel the same way."

Damian nodded. "It's a deal."

Maybe her Miraculous Luck wasn't so useless after all. Marinette had expected to go the whole year without making a single friend. Now, it seemed that she might make one after all.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #daminette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Damian Wayne #MaribatMarch2021 #maridami #marinette x damian #miraculous ladybug fic #my work

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atlas-of-galaxies · 3 years ago

Note

pls explain how ur choosing which entities to give to which yttd characters i am listening

i love u thank u for indulging me

I'm gonna go ahead and put this under the cut tho cuz it's about to get Very long and Very spoilery

Sara as the Desolation

right out of the gate is one of my favorite assignments!! Sara has proven many times that she (understandably) is willing to use others to keep herself and the ones she cares about alive. the moment with Anzu being sacrificed over Gin in the Coffin Russian Roulette is an obvious example, but she's shown her selfishness many times throughout the game, such as her scramble to find enough tokens to dump her Sacrifice onto someone else, and her subsequent reaction when she suddenly realizes she's free of it. it's one of my favorite parts of her character.

Desolation is also a lot about loss of potential; Joe's death weighs heavy over her, and she feels nothing but guilt and responsibility for the fact he died so young. not to mention her own role in the Death Game as the supposed 15.5% player; her own potential for cruelty is held over her head by both Shin and Midori, and Keiji's pressure over her to become a leader undoubtedly adds to the expectations she's already crumbling under. she's being pulled every which way, and I really do hope she has her moment of catharsis in 3-2.

... speaking of ... she has quite a similar story to Agnes Montague, doesn't she? :) and I'll admit this next bit is just coincidence, but the Desolation is always antagonistic with the Web, out of all other entities. and the Web in my silly little assignments is, well ...

Shin as the Web

okay, I'll admit I have a very specific idea for Shin, but hear me out. one of my favorite little worldbuilding details in TMA is utilized with Mike Crew: the idea of devoting yourself to one entity to escape another.

Shin is, quite bluntly, the Stranger's ideal target: he mistrusts others, he is terrified of kindness as a mask for evil intentions, and its whole thing is the perversion of identity and self. I think that his First Trial would serve as the culminating realization of his utter hopelessness and inability to trust those who may mean his downfall - however, instead of plainly falling victim to the Stranger, he turns to the coping mechanisms that Midori taught him.

he turns to the Web. he takes that same fear of manipulation he learned from Midori, weaponizing it and doing everything in his power to turn the Game to his favor. granted, he's not nearly as good at it as Midori was, but he certainly puts on a good show, and the Spider is nothing if not dramatic.

Keiji as the Slaughter

another favorite of mine. :) one mistake, one slip in judgement, one hasty pull of the trigger, and Keiji is suddenly haunted for life. he was tricked into violence, sure, but that doesn't mean he isn't still responsible for it, and he's terrified of that part of himself that killed his idol. who's to say it won't happen again? will the next person he hurts be less innocent than his idol? does that make it better?

I think he also has a little bit of Fear Soup Syndrome going on; his fear is very much Slaughter-based, but it manifests in a Spiral-esque fashion, hence the hallucinations. Keiji's absolute lack of trust in himself is also very rooted in the Spiral. Sara, too, but to a less intense degree.

speaking of,

Joe as the Spiral

what else would fit the guy who had to deceive others to try to survive but the embodiment of deceit? even in the single chapter we know him for, Joe has multiple moments where he shows a lack of faith in himself or his beliefs. honestly, he's really only exceptionally strong in his stances where Sara is concerned, hence his one man show in the first Main Game. even if he had somehow managed to survive, though, the guilt I have no doubt he'd foster over tricking the others would weigh heavy on his shoulders. what kind of guy would let 9 people die for his sake? no one worth trusting, that's for sure.

and, of course, then there's the easy part of the assignment: Hallucination Joe! not much to explain there.

Reko as the Stranger

here's an easy one: she literally gets Not!Themed. she doesn't die, sure (at least in one route), but she gets swapped out with a fake that can't quite get Reko down right. the fake is even a doll, for hell's sake. reko was the blueprint (i'm joking i'm 90% sure not!sasha was introduced years before)

barring the elephant in the room, though, her regular self still fits the bill; she's a performer at heart, and her distaste at being manipulated into specific roles and boxes could definitely align with the Stranger's dealings with identity. hell, even her dealings with Alice lend themselves to the Stranger, as she finds his supposed actions utterly incomprehensible. how did she ever trust someone who has the potential to take a life?

Alice as the End

everyday I think about the fact that Alice doesn't even remember the actual act that put him in prison. his entire life becomes tarnished and defined by this singular event that he cannot even recall; I can only assume that his brain moved to fill in the horrifying gaps and concoct his own version of events from what he's gathered in court proceedings.

he parallels Keiji very nicely in this regard, so I could see Slaughter working for him, too. but the thing that strikes me is that Alice's punishment becomes his entire existence, while Keiji's strife is over the fact he isn't punished. Alice isn't even allowed to forget his role in the Death Game; he's constantly in his prisoner's uniform, and his occupation is listened as a Murderer (I'm sure that's more Midori being petty than anything else but it still counts).

the final nail in the coffin is the fact that death is the thing that keeps Reko and Alice from reconciling, which is really the one thing Alice wanted to do before he dies.

Nao as the Corruption

I love assigning characters as the Corruption because it's almost always for one of the less-utilized aspects of it: toxic love. and Nao, through no fault of her own, fits the bill quite well. whether it's her maddened grief that inadvertently endangers Gin and gets manipulated into attacking Shin, or the fact that she is responsible for the only canon ending we have so far at the price of the lives of 6 people, Nao is almost always put into a situation where sympathizing with her means harming others.

she seems to have issues with boundaries too, as evidenced in her rapidly warming up to Sara, a total stranger, and some. um. choice scenes in YTTS. she gets attached hard and fast to others, even if those others happen to be an AI of her dead professor ... I forget if any characters call it out as such, but I doubt such coping is exactly healthy.

I feel like I'm absolutely dragging Nao thru the mud rn and I feel BAD cuz I adore her, but she's a wonderfully complex character who, despite her understandable situation, is capable of doing some very bad things. she's fascinating and I miss her deeply.

Kai as the Hunt

as an extension of the organization that has been tracking and studying the participants for years before the Death Game, Kai fits quite neatly into the Hunt. his role as the hunter ("stalking" Sara, protecting the Chidouins, keeping track of other participants) suddenly being flipped into being prey (being put into the Death Game, receiving the Sage) is classic Hunt behavior.

hell, he's even an assassin who doesn't like to kill! people engage in the Hunt for the chase, not the end result.

okay this is already long enough so I'll save the last four for once I finish their pieces, but I will say that I didn't repeat entities anywhere so. do with that information what you will

#ask #this got sooo much longer than i wanted it to whoopsss #atlas talks #raidencule #yttd #tma entities

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littlesniggy · 4 years ago

Text

Princess Part Two

Part Two of the Kid x princess reader and well...I might’ve gotten carried away a little but oh well. Thanks to @pure-kirarin for requesting this! Btw, this plays either pre time skip or during the time skip since Kid still has both arms lol.

Part One is here!

Warning: 18+, smut, dirty talk, virgin reader

Word count: 4.4k

She was laying in her bed, her face still wet from crying the whole way back. Her clothes were dirty; she had slipped multiple times on and some scratches were visible on her arms and legs. She needed to cover them so no one would see them. Otherwise, they’d ask uncomfortable questions and she simply had no answer as to why she looked like this.

The sheets of her bed felt comforting and soothing but she couldn’t quite fall asleep; too many thoughts were running through her head and every single one revolved around Eustass Kid. To say her image of him and pirates in general had been shuttered was an understatement. Was he right? Had she been too influenced by all the stories she’s read? In them, pirates were criminals but in a charming way; they’d drink and have fun and play around with women but they never gave off that aura of danger. And still: some part in her wanted to know more about pirates, know more about their life, their ambitions, and motivation.

Kid said something about becoming the king of pirates; wasn’t this just a myth? Finding the One Piece? Gol D. Roger’s call to find it? She wasn’t sure but he seemed serious. And this part of him was the one that intrigued her the most. She closed her eyes and slowly but surely drifted off into a restless sleep, haunted by a certain bloodthirsty pirate captain.

It had been two nights since she encountered the Kid pirates and ever since she felt down and less ambitious. The prince, his father, and their entourage left yesterday. Finally, she had time for herself but it did her no good; her thoughts were still running wild, always returning to Eustass Kid. She even had a somewhat wet dream about him where she woke up breathing heavily and completely unsatisfied. She’s never been intimate before and her urge to be was rather non-existent – until now. Only the thought of him doing anything remotely sexual to her had little butterflies flying in her belly, making it incredibly difficult to focus.

Suddenly, she heard the sound of weapons clashing on weapons, loud yells calling to gather in front of the entrance and protect the king and the princess. She hurried to the big window and saw with horror how one guard after another got killed, their screams echoing through the night sky. She clasped her hands over her mouth but couldn’t move her eyes away from the horrid scene. The ones killing her people were none other than the Kid pirates. She saw weapons flying through the air and gathering around one person – Eustass Kid. All the weapons manifested into one huge weapon-arm he used to kill more of the guards.

She heard footsteps in front of her door and turned around, expecting pirates to storm in at any moment. But instead, two guards were rushing in, weapons ready to protect or fight. “Princess-sama! You need to get out of here! It’s too dangerous!” one yelled while the other one grabbed her arm and pulled her with him. “W-wait! What’s going on?” she demanded to know but followed the two guards down the stairs. “Pirates. They invaded the palace. Probably looking for treasure but we’re not sure. As long as they’re here you’re not safe, princess-sama.”

The stairs led down until they reached the dungeons where a safe-room was located. But they didn’t make it until there because in a flash the guard’s weapons were taken from them by what seemed like magic but when she turned around Captain Kid was standing there, a huge and sadistic grin in his face.

The guards positioned themselves in front of the princess but without any weapons they were defenseless. “Princess-sama! Please, keep going until you reach the safe-room! We will handle him!” the guard told him. The princess didn’t think twice before she turned around and ran through the long corridor. She didn’t make it far though because suddenly, she felt a hand grab her hair and yanking her back painfully.

“Just the princess I was looking for.” She heard a voice right next to her ear. “Let go” she screamed and tried to get free but his grip was like iron. “Stop struggling and be quiet. I only want your treasure, that’s all. If you’re a good little princess I’ll let you live.” He purred. “Y-you killed the guards! Why should I trust you?” tears were running down her face. This was definitely not how she had imagined their next meeting!

“Indeed, I have. But maybe I’ll make an exception for you? Can’t kill a princess now, can I?” it sounded sarcastic and she new he had no qualms killing her as well. “Now, tell me. Where do you hide your treasure? The sooner you tell me the sooner we’re on our marry way.” “How do I know you’re not lying?” “You just have to believe me.” He sounded amused at her question. “And by the way. Didn’t you say you wanted to join us? As a pirate you should be okay with robbing and killing people. That’s just part of a pirate’s life.” She pressed her lips together and felt stupid once again. Deep down, she had known this but she just didn’t want to accept it.

“So, tell me. Where is the treasure?” he repeated the question. “I-in the south tower, top floor, behind a huge door. Can’t miss it.” She pressed out and expected him to let her go. But Kid had other plans. “That wasn’t too difficult, was it? Let’s go.” And with a push she stumbled forward. He let go of her hair so technically she could run away but she knew he’d catch her. “Lead the way, princess.” He said while he followed her, his eyes running down her body while they were walking, appreciating the silky nightgown she was wearing which was running down her body like water.

The princess noticed but kept quiet about it. “W-where is my father?” she instead wanted to know. Kid shrugged, the grin still on his face. “Who knows.” He simply answered and she knew he wouldn’t tell her. Maybe he was already dead?

When they got to the entrance hall she heard yelling coming from all over the place but she couldn’t see her father. Kid pushed her forward with his hand, making her almost fall to the floor. “Keep moving, princess.” It sounded like an insult when he called her that but she wouldn’t complain. She heard him call some of his men who followed them up the stairs until they all reached the huge door guarding the treasure. The two guards were quickly disposed of and the princess couldn’t hold back a squeal.

Kid laughed at her reaction while the others opened the huge door, revealing lots and lots of gold, silver, jewels and precious gems. “That’s what I call a jackpot. Pack it up!” Kid ordered and shoved the princess with him to the side to not be in the way of his crew. Silently, they stood next to each other, Kid had his arms crossed in front of his chest, she looked down, fidgeting with her fingers. “Did we wake you?” Kid suddenly asked, his eyes still appreciating the treasure in the room. She stayed silent, not wanting to answer.

He turned his head towards her, his eyes wandering up and down once again. “You got a lot of those nightgowns, don’t you? You were wearing one two nights ago as well, weren’t you?” a blush creeped on her cheeks and she pulled her arms over her body to hide it from his few. “Don’t be shy! It looks good on you!” The red intensified even more and he could swear her head was about to pop like a tomato. “Show me your room.” He demanded. Shocked, she looked at him, eyes wide and mouth open. There it was again – the excited feeling in her stomach. Even though he had just killed more than a dozen if her men she still felt intrigued by him; his whole aura had her body drawn to him.

“C’mon. A little princess like you must have a huge room, right? Let me see it.” He insisted. There was no rational reason why she did it but she obliged. As if her body was out of rubber, she walked along corridors with doors to every side, legs daring to give in with every step. Kid walked behind her, she could feel his eyes on her body.

She stopped in front of the door, hesitant to turn the nob to open it. But Kid took over this part. His big hands grabbed the nob, turned it and opened the door. He pushed her inside and followed her right after. She heard him whistle but didn’t turn to look at him. Two clicks indicated he had closed and locked the door behind him. Now it was only the two of them, alone in her room, her only in her nightgown and underneath it only her panties.

“That’s a nice ass room. Being a princess has its perks, hasn’t it?” he passed her and took a look around her room. His eyes wandered over pictures showing her with her father, some friends and one with her mother when she was young. She expected him to ask about her but he didn’t. He simply didn’t care.

When he was done he walked towards her bed, sitting down in the mattress. His legs spread and his arms crossed in front of his chest. His grin was ever so present on his face and had her look away. “Why did you want to join us?” he asked out of nowhere. “I…I don’t know.” She answered truthfully, still not looking at him. “Bullshit! Did you think I didn’t notice your reaction? When I had my thumb buried in your mouth?” His grin grew even wider. “Did you hope for something more…filling?” he laughed at her shocked expression when she turned to look at him.

“Now is your chance, princess. I can almost smell your pussy from here and believe me she wants me.” He said cockily, way too full of himself. But he was right. Ever since he asked her to see her room she had thought about all the things they could do in there – and none of her thoughts were G-rated. “C’mere.” He demanded.

Slowly, she put one foot in front of the other and made her way over to where he was sitting. She stopped in front of him, her sight set on the floor. Even though she was standing was he almost as tall as her when he was sitting. “Have you ever knelt down in front of anyone else?” he asked. She shook her head no and received a dark chuckle. “Then it’s time you learn how to do it. Get on your knees, princess.” His tone was demanding and left no room for arguing.

With trembling limps, she got down, took her place between his legs. Pleased, he hummed. “That’s a nice sight, princess. You look good on your knees. As if you were made to kneel down.” “Stop saying that.” She whispered, completely embarrassed by his words. Kid laughed out loud at her wish. “But it’s the truth, princess. Now, get down to business.” He demanded but she didn’t follow his order. Kid raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you hear me? Go, suck my dick, princess.” He clarified but again she didn’t move. The princess bit her lower lip, seeming like she wanted to say something but too embarrassed to say it out loud. Kid grabbed her chin and made her look up at him. “What is it, princess? Spit it out or get going!” She averted her gaze but after receiving a slight slap to her cheek she answered.

“I….I have never been….intimate….with a man before.” She whispered, barely audible. The captain made a surprised sound but didn’t let go of her chin. “A virgin, huh? That’s rare. But I like it.” With his other hand he opened his pants, freeing his semi-erect member from its restraints. “Don’t worry. I’ll guide you through everything.” His thumb circling his huge mushroom head. The princess took a quick glance at his dick before looking away, cheeks blushed once more.

“You can look. It gets him excited, y’know.” Kid purred. She hesitated for a moment but then looked back at his dick which twitched in response, slowly becoming harder and harder. “Good girl.” He praised. He let go of her chin and instead took one of her wrists between his fingers and guided her hand towards his member. Before she could touch it, she tried pulling back instinctively but his grip was too strong. “Don’t be shy. Touch him.” He encouraged her and simultaneously pulled her hand closer until he wrapped her hand around his dick, his hand covering hers.

She gasped at the touch. It felt warm and…weird, as if it was some kind of animal. But it made her pussy wet at the same time, making her rub her thighs together. “You like how it feels?” he started to move his hand around hers so she was stroking him. He pressed his hand down, showing her how he liked it. Her legs kept rubbing against each other and she didn’t know what to do about her growing wetness.

“Touch yourself, princess.” His demand came out of nowhere. “What?” she asked bus his grin told her she had heard him right. “I said: touch yourself. I can see you want to.” Her cheeks were burning and she couldn’t move. “Have you ever touched yourself?” he asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief. “Don’t tell me you haven’t!”

“W-well….n-not really.” God! This must be his lucky day! Fist the treasure and now this!

“Then let me teach you how to do it….Follow my orders, princess.” Her eyes were uncertain but he knew she would obey his orders. She was way too curious.

“Are you wearing panties?” she nodded hesitantly. “Good.” His hand kept holding hers in place, still stroking him.

“Move your hand between your legs and rub your index and middle finger over your panties where your pussy is.” Her hand slowly moved down between her legs and she gasped when she touched herself. “Tell me, are you wet?” his grin was now predatory. He leaned down to be closer to her face. The princess nodded shyly. “Good. Now move your hands in your panties and feel your cunt. Tell me how it feels.” She followed this order as well and a small moan escaped her lips when she touched herself. “How does it feel?” he demanded to know.

“W-wet….hot.” he grunted at her words, closing his eyes for a moment. “Good girl. Do you feel the little nub?” her fingers glid over said nub and she jerked away a little. “Circle it with your finger.” A whimper escaped her lips and she had to close her eyes at the sensation. She felt how her juice coated her pussy even more, making small sounds while she moved her finger over her clit. Kid squeezed her hand slightly and gasped at the feeling. “Do you feel how you’re getting wetter? Does it feel good, princess?”

“Y-yes.” She moaned. Kid picked up the pace at his dick and her hand between her legs followed his pace.

“Do you think you’re wet enough now? Are you dripping?” his voice filled her head and she could only nod. “Push your finger inside.” The princess opened her eyes and looked at him, stopping for a moment. “B-but what if-“ but he cut her off. “Just do it, princess.” His harsh tone made her whimper and her pussy clenched around nothing. Slowly, she moved over her slit and inserted one finger, making a slightly uncomfortable sound. “Try rubbing your clit.” It was difficult and she had her hand at a slightly awkward angle but managed to circle her clit with her thumb. Her legs opened wider when she started moving her finger in and out, the feeling of herself around her finger was weird and exciting at the same time.

His hand picked up the pace around his shaft once more and her hand followed suit. “When you’re ready put another finger in. Spread them.” “Ah!” another small moan when she entered a second finger, scissoring them and also curling them inside of her, moving them in and out of her pussy. The moans came out more frequently now and she hand to rest her cheek against his thigh, watching their hands pump his dick with hooded eyes. It was so hot, she didn’t know where to put her lust. Kid grunted, his eyes never leaving her frame.

“Such a good, slutty princess. Following a pirate’s orders to please herself.” He praised, making her moan again. She started moving her hips up and down on her finger, her moans getting louder and louder. Kid laughed at her action, licking his lips at the sight. “That’s right, princess. Fuck yourself on your fingers. Ride them like it’s my dick.” Another moan. Her movements became frantic and he knew she was close. It was now or never. He let go of her hand and put his hand on the back of her head. “Open up!”

She had no time to think before he pushed his huge dick inside her mouth, almost choking her. Her eyes were wide open and she tried to get away but he wouldn’t let her. “Breath through your nose, princess. And don’t forget fucking yourself.” The problem was not her breathing – at least not her primary. Her gag-reflex had kicked in and it took all her will power not to puke. Kid started moving her head between his legs, low grunts rumbling thorough his body. “Fuck.” He grunted.

The princess listened to his grunts and it somehow got her distracted from the uncomfortable feeling on her tongue. She also started moving her fingers inside of her again, soon getting back the feeling inside or her that indicated her coming orgasm. She moaned around his dick, entering a third finger. His dick moved in and out of her mouth at the same pace, his mushroom head bumping against the backside of her throat; spit was dripping down her chin, his pre-cum salty on her tongue. With two more pushes of her fingers did she clench around herself, cumming hard and coating her fingers.

Kid stopped his movements a little bit unwillingly when she came but he watched her come down from her (probably) first orgasm. He removed his dick from her mouth and grabbed her chin once more, making her look up at him. “Show me your hand.” He whispered. With a small whimper she pulled out her fingers and slowly raised her hand with shaky limbs. Her fingers were coated in her juice and kid licked his lips, then grabbed her hand and closed his lips around her fingers, sucking on them. His tongue swirled around them, licking up every little bit of her cum.

She could only watch in amazement, brains till a little foggy from her high. When he was down, he let her fingers go with an audible plop. “Slutty princess, making such a mess while masturbating. Dirty, dirty little bitch.” His grin took in almost all of his face, that’s how satisfied he was with her job. But he wasn’t done yet…

“Get naked, princess. The main part is about to start.” He purred. “W-what? But I just…I just-“ “I’m gonna make you come again. You’ll like it since you’re such a little whore.” His words made her clench around nothing once more and she knew he would be true to his word. She got up, legs still shaky but she managed to stand in front of him. Her hands moved over her body, down to the hem of her nightgown and pulled it up over her head, exposing her breasts, the nipples hard from her arousal. Kid hummed in appreciation and couldn’t help himself but grab her tits in his hands and fondle them quite roughly.

“K-Kid…” she moaned and leaned into his touch. He leaned closer and took one of her nipples between his lips, sucking and biting at it. She threw her head back and had her eyes closed. “P-please….be gentle.” He looked up at her, licking her nipple before grinning again. “Can’t promise that.” He said and dedicated himself to her other nipple while his hand massaged her breast. His rough hands felt incredibly on her skin and the excited feeling between her legs came back.

The pirate noticed and looked down at her still clothed sex. “Take it off. I wanna see all of you, princess.” His voice was coarse from arousal and had her shiver in excitement. Her hands moved to her panties and pulled the, down, exposing her wet sex. Kid licked his lips at the sight and just had to take a lick by leaning forward. She moaned because of the sensitivity but jerked her hips forward, pressing herself closer to his mouth.

“So eager.” He murmured against her clit before teasing it with his tongue a little. The princess was afraid she might lose her balance and fall but Kid Kid wrapped one arm around her waist to keep her up, the other one grabbed the back of her knee and pulled it up to have better access. His mouth now savored her pussy, licking and sucking at the sensitive flesh and having her moan above him.

“K-Kid! I-it’s too much!” she whined and moaned at the same time, not knowing if she liked it or hated it. Just in this moment a knock on the door could be heard. Kid grumbled in discontent. “What?” he barked. “When are you done, captain?” he heard Killer’s voice from the other side. “Fuck off. I’m in the middle of eating dessert!” her cheeks turned pink again but she couldn’t think straight when he sucked at her clit once more, making her moan.

They heard a Killer clear his throat on the other side and then his leaving footsteps.

“Naughty princess. Letting him hear you moan.” He teased. Kid pulled away from her sex and threw her on the mattress instead. She looked up at him, body heaving, legs slightly spread, exposing her wet pussy. “Such a nice view.” He complimented. The princess sucked on her lips, knowing what was about to happen. Should she really let a pirate take her virginity? She was promised to the prince, was engaged and about to get married. Should she throw this away? But Kid was already above her, his body like a blanket covering her own. He had lined himself up with her pussy, ready to push in.

“Take a deep breath, princess. This’s gonna hurt.” And with these words he pushed forward, sinking into her wet and hot pussy. A painful scream escaped her mouth and she clawed at his muscular arms, trying to find some support for her pain. But Kid showed no pity and pushed himself in completely. Her whole body was tense and she tried to push the foreign body away but the pirate was too strong. “Relax.” He huffed before he started to move inside of her.

“It hurts!” she pressed out, eyes shut tightly. “Stop whining. It’s gonna feel better soon!” Maybe. He thought to himself and grinned. Now was his turn.” His movements were sharp and hard, his dick moving in and out of her. It was a great feeling, especially since he knew he was the very first to thrust into her. Her face looked tense and he knew she was in pain. She was probably bleeding as well but why should he care? She had her orgasm and he wanted his. Well, maybe he could help her a little.

One of his hands moved down between their legs and started rubbing at her clit, making her jerk against his touch. “Good girl. Keep moving against me.” She whimpered, the pain slowly moved to the back of her mind thanks to his finger in her clit. She bucked her hips against his thrusts, making him grunt and curse with each thrust. He picked up the pace, his hips snapping back and forth at high speed, making it hard for her to keep up with his pace. She moaned, eyes closed and her arms were next to her head after she had let go of his arms. Her body was shuffled over the sheets, her body sweaty from all the feelings inside of her.

With each thrusts she got closer and closer to her next orgasm, her voice hoarse from moaning and screaming. Her legs wrapped around his hips, pushing him closer to her and pressing him deeper inside of her. With a last, loud scream she came around his dick, clenching around his thick meat and making him groan in pleasure.

Breathlessly, she laid underneath him, slowly getting her breath back under control. Kid had stopped moving; he looked down at her, had watched her face twitch in pleasure while she rode his dick through her orgasm. It was really hot; he wouldn’t lie but he wasn’t done yet.

“Little princess cumming around my dick like a whore. What an exciting sight. I like it. But I’m not finished yet. Let’s see if I can make you cum a third time. After all, three’s the lucky charm.”

_____________________________

Her whole body felt sore; her body was covered in dark bruises left by his mouth, her breasts and lower body was covered in his semen, dripping down onto the sheets. She felt used and dirty but at the same time completely satisfied.

Kid had left a while ago, the castle was silent. Before he left he had praised her for being such an obedient little princess who took in his dick so well. Alone remembering those words made her smile. She knew she would most likely never see him again but that was fine; after all, he taught her how to pleasure herself and that was enough. At least for now. Maybe she would teach her soon to be husband how to pleasure her.

#one piece #op #eustass kid #eustasscaptainkid #captain kid #captain kid x reader #kid x reader #eustass kid x reader #ns.fw #scenario #op scenario #requests

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