#And people are mad that shes not living the truth but I think her telling John not to watch the movie is

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Ok I dont think the Barry ending was actually ambiguous guys I think we know where everyones at.

[thehmn]

I’m a strong proponent of lying to get the help you need. I always try the truthful route first but if that gets me nowhere? Lying it is.

I think it’s important to respect other people’s time, wellbeing and money so I don’t do it in situations where I know I’m in the wrong, like if I want to get into a place just for fun and someone could get in trouble for letting me in wrongfully I’d rather not.

But sometimes people just don’t understand why something is important in your situation so you have to turn it into something they understand. When I lived in England I constantly lied about being pregnant so gas station employees would let me use their bathroom because for some reason they didn’t have public bathrooms.

Or when my doctor’s secretary couldn’t get it into her head that my stomach pains were very serious and concerning and insisted I couldn’t get an appointment this month so that evening I “found” a lump that I was pretty sure was nothing but it meant I had a reason to call her the next day and get a new appointment immediately and when the doctor told me the lump was harmless I could tell her what my real problem was and she immediately scheduled ALL the tests and examinations because she understood how concerning it was. I just had to get past the fucking secretary with a lie.

Fuck I even support that elderly man who lied about having four children who were stuck in a house during a flood but when the rescue team got there in a dinghy they realized it was four dogs. The guy knew he had to lie because he was too sick to help them himself (able bodied people in the area were able to save their own pets) and they wouldn’t have helped him if they knew it was “just dogs”. In the video the rescue team can be seen choking up and padding him on the back while he cries with his scared dogs in his arms. The team is clearly not mad because they can see how important the dogs are to him but I have no doubt he was right in thinking they wouldn’t have helped if he had told them the truth.

So do what ya gotta do and lie lie lie.

[flawseer]

"#21 - Ancient", follow-up

I'm not going to be able to finish Smaugust #23 today, so that will have to wait until tomorrow. Apologies.

Instead, for a change of pace, let's talk about something different. I've seen a few reactions to my submission for day 21 that wondered what on earth must have possessed Secretkeeper to romantically pursue Morrowseer, and what that must have been like. Did they love each other? Was there any tenderness or affection between them? I figured I should give you my take on them.

I believe that Morrowseer--somewhere deep within his black, twisted lump of a heart--did indeed have feelings for Secretkeeper. You can kind of see this in the Prisoners short where he very unfavorably compares Farsight to Secretkeeper and sings the praises of the latter. He holds her in high esteem and seems to value her intelligence. He probably really wanted to have a meaningful relationship with her.

Unfortunately, he is wracked with the burden of having to be Morrowseer; a bitter, deeply unpleasant, emotionally shallow old dragon incapable of the humility required to be compassionate. For all the prestige and clout that Morrowseer has as an elite member of the Queen's court, his social life seems very empty and sad. He has no friends, only co-workers (who don't like him) and underlings (who butter him up), and I think he feels incomplete because of that. To fill this void, he fixates on asserting his importance and is desperate to maintain his status. He deeply desired to be the father of the prophecy Nightwing--which would have cemented him as the one dragon who saved his tribe--and the fact that he failed to sire a child in time not once (necessitating Starflight), but twice (necessitating Fatespeaker) eats him up on the inside. He perceives this as a huge failure, and Mastermind (who succeeded where he failed) picked up on this and mocks him for it. His entire conversation with Farsight reeks of "I am mad and jealous that your kid is special! It should have been mine!! Goddamnit why wasn't it mine!??"

For Secretkeeper's side... no, I don't think there's any deep affection there. I don't think she anticipated this relationship happening in the first place. But she did want to have a child, and when Morrowseer approached her, she weighed her options. If one can stomach living with someone like Morrowseer--who always has to be the most important person in the room--it's not an entirely bad deal. You get a lot of social clout as the Queen's right hand's mate, and since Morrowseer is exempt from the strict food rationing policy, you also get to eat. And he actively wants to have children to secure his legacy, which, if that's what you want as well, is pretty good. So in my mind she probably just went "Yeah, I can probably make this work. I'm sure he's not as bad to be around when he likes you." and agreed out of convenience.

But I doubt she loved him. There isn't really a reality where I can reconcile "She loved him" and "She kept their shared child a secret from him because she did not trust him". The only thing Secretkeeper genuinely loved about Morrowseer was that she was able to have Moonwatcher. So she stuck it out for her daughter, and I don't think she was upset for very long when Morrowseer died. She might have even felt a sense of relief that she didn't have to keep lying anymore.

I've seen people point to the fact that Secretkeeper felt a desire to tell Moonwatcher who her father was, and then posit that this means she did have feelings for him. I'm not sure I really agree. All that tells me is that she has feelings for Moonwatcher and wants her to know the truth. But if the truth is "I didn't really love your father, he was an awful and unpleasant person and I was just with him so I could have you", it becomes understandable why she would choose not to tell her.

That's my read of the situation anyway. Yours might be entirely different!

[deeplyshalllow]

Glinda gets what she deserves at the end of Wicked

I don’t necessarily mean this in an all negative light either, Glinda’s ending is bittersweet – sad, but hopeful. But she does not deserve an all out happy ending at the end of the musical.

I don’t know if I’m gonna be crucified for this, but here goes.

Glinda in Act 2 is a key part of a fascist regime. She doesn’t just live in it, she isn’t forced to take part in it and she’s not working as a double agent (like Fiyero). She knows what they are doing to the Animals (which includes separating infants from their mothers and putting them in cages, and making Animals so afraid they literally forget how to speak), she knows and loves people it is hurting and yet she continues to actively promote it.

(I won’t point out the connections to real world situations, but I’m sure you guys can all think of examples and think of how you feel about people who are active participants in helping such regimes.)

We see she knows all this too. We see she excuses it for her ego and the power:

Glinda: Do you think I like to hear them say those awful things about her? I hate it!

Fiyero: Then what are we doing here? Let's go, let's get out of here!

Glinda: We can't leave now, not when people are looking to us to raise their spirits.

Fiyero: You can't leave, because you can't resist this. And that is the truth.

Glinda: Maybe I can't. Is that so wrong? Who could?

Elphaba: No, of course you never! You're too busy telling everyone how wonderful everything is!

Glinda: I'm a public figure, now. People expect me to...

Elphaba: Lie?

Glinda: Be encouraging!

And if one could possibly argue (weakly) that, given she’s not actually doing any of the regime’s actual violence, just keeping people’s hopes up she’s not as bad as those who are, she gets worse:

Morrible: Well, we'll just flush her out and force her to show herself.

Wizard: But how?

Glinda: Her sister

Morrible: What? What did she say?

Glinda: Use her sister. Spread a rumour. Make her think her sister is in trouble and she will fly to her side... and you'll have her.

Even if one argues that Glinda is somehow not clever enough to realise that they’ll end up killing Nessa, she sure as hell knows it will get Elphaba captured. And there’s no way that Elphaba being captured won’t lead to the execution of her best friend. Yes, she’s heartbroken, yes, she might not have said this when emotions weren’t running high, but it doesn’t make her terrible words less deadly (and bear in mind Elphaba hadn’t even done anything to hurt Glinda! It was Fiyero who chose to go with her).

Glinda only really starts realising what she has done in March of the Witch hunters, when Nessa is dead, Fiyero is tortured and presumed dead and Elphaba has descended into madness – all because of her own action. And, kudos to her, this is when she decides to change, she immediately goes to Elphaba and tries to warn her about the Witch Hunters, apologises and ultimately Elphaba trusts her with the Grimmorie and to continue her legacy (which she immediately does by overthrowing the Wizard). She has started down the track to good but she still has a long way to go.

I am not the first, nor will I be the last to point this out but “Goodness knows the wicked’s lives are lonely, goodness knows the wicked die alone”, sung by Glinda,is clearly not about Elphaba. Elphaba was not wicked, nor did she die alone (literally Dorothy was in the room and metaphorically Glinda supported and loved her). Glinda is singing about herself, Glinda knows she has been wicked, Glinda knows that it is her own actions that have lead to the “death” of her friends.

So what Glinda is left with is a chance to do good. A chance to live up to her name and make up for what she’s done. A chance to use what she’s most talented at, making people like her, to continue the legacy of her best friend. Despite everything, Elphaba does trust her, if she didn’t she wouldn’t have left her with this responsibility.

Glinda: Fellow Ozians, friends, we have been through a frightening time. There will be other times and other things that frighten us. But if you let me, I'd like to try to help. I'd like to try to be... Glinda the Good.

This is why she is going to “try” to be Glinda the Good, because she hasn’t been good yet. She has learnt a lot of very hard lessons through the narrative, been dragged kicking and screaming out of her selfishness, ego and giving into her worst impulses and is grateful for a chance to repent. And honestly, I’m sure she will suceed.

And one last thing:

Elphaba: I only wish...

Fiyero: What?

Elphaba: Glinda could know that we're alive.

Fiyero: She can't know, not if we want to be safe. No one can ever know.

I know a lot of people take ire with this line. But Fiyero, always the best strategist of the group, is right. The last time Glinda was trusted with important information it led to a death and two more people nearly dying. She has not earned that trust yet.

But, remember, Glinda isn’t stupid, Glinda is in a position where she’s going to have to think more and more. Glinda has presumably seen her roommate get wet before, she saw Fiyero’s reaction to the rumour, no matter how much searching happens Fiyero’s body never turns up, how long is it really going to take for her to connect the dots? Sure “Glinda can never know” for sure, but she sure as hell can be comforted by the fact she’s almost certain her best friend did not melt from a bucket of water.

[lillotte17]

I think it is important to remember, when sifting through lore for facts and fic reasons, that the memories of Solas' regrets we see in the Lighthouse are not going to be the Exact Truth about what happened during these events.

This is how HE remembers those things happening. And memories are not always reliable narrators. In DAI, Solas gives us the example of the memories he witnessed at Ostagar, about Loghain as both the power-mad villain, and the veteran commander trying to save his troops from needless death. And they are both true for the people who lived those experiences. But they don't tell you what ACTUALLY happened.

Solas is dragging around thousands of years worth of regrets and mistakes. He focuses a lot of blame on himself, even beyond what was actually his fault. And he is reluctant to admit that Mythal was anything other than 'The Good Evanuris.'

The most obvious example is the last panel, where he kills Flemeth. The conversation that Rook and Co. hear is NOT the one that happened. Mythal did not argue for the fate of the world. She didn't ask him not to bring down the Veil. She made no protest beyond saying that he shouldn't have let Corypheus find his orb. She did not sound indignant or angry with him at all. She LET him take her power, even knowing it would kill her. (which was why I was honestly expecting her to have some Big Plan where like...her power let her take control of him and even if you talked him down, she would force him to tear open the Veil herself, but...whomp whomp)

Flemythal had the same amount of power that Solas had in Trespasser, and Solas' magic at the time was about the same as any talented mage of the modern age. She could have wiped the floor with him. She could have called a dragon or turned him into stone.

He didn't take her life, she gave it to him. She forgave him, and then she died to give him what he wanted.

And oh boy, that is so so SO much worse than her still being angry and arguing with him and telling him he was wrong. He does not know how to handle that At All.

It's also interesting because that is the only memory where Mythal DOES sound sharp with him. Every other time she is trying to talk him into something and he is the one arguing against it, she is remembered as being calm and rational and patient. Soft-spoken and almost motherly. Which...after meeting the fragment in the Crossroads, I kind of doubt was her typical MO. Even Morrigan says that she is 'prickly.'

Solas remembers her as kinder than she was before her death, because grief softens a lot of rough edges when we love someone. And afterwards, he thinks of her as someone who is still angry with him. Who will never forgive him. Because he is still angry at himself for 'getting her killed' the first time.

Mythal herself says that these memories are things he has 'cultivated like a tree reaching for the sun.' He has twisted these memories within himself into the shapes that they are, regardless of 'truth.'

That is NOT to say that he is absolved of guilt for the things we saw in those regrets! Or even that he's less guilty! But perhaps more along the lines of... 'It's important to remember that Solas was not the only person involved in a lot of these events, and therefore is likely not the only person blame should fall on.' However, Pride that he is, Solas is the one who remembers all of these things as being entirely his fault.

[morphean42]

Rewatching Falsettos I was suddenly struck by an epiphany that I’m sure someone else has had at some point, but I needed to write out. This ending scene from “March of the Falsettos” jumped out at me from the first watching, but even though I recognised the nod to the “See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil (and lesser known do no evil)”, I didn’t know what it meant. Today, I tried to piece it together, and I think I’ve gotten it. These poses represent core attributes of the characters, as well as Trina’s view of them, so click the read more to hear the ravings of a mad man wayyyyyy too obsessed with this show

The idea of ‘evil’ to me is very loose. It can represent a lot of things for these characters; their actions towards each other, their character flaws, etc. But, for this analysis, one can replace ‘evil’ with ‘truth’. Each of the characters refuses to see, speak, hear, or ‘do’ the truth (please excuse the lack of grammar for that last one), and that is where the ‘evil’ stems from. Taking into account this is mostly based on Trina’s view of the men, I think ‘truth’ fits in well.

Let’s start with the one who fits in least— Jason. “March of the Falsettos” is a physical manifestation of how Trina views the men in her life (as childish and immature), but some slack is given to her son. He doesn’t sing his lines in falsetto, because we acknowledge he is in fact a child, and has more of an excuse to act as such. So, take his analysis with a grain of salt. The boy has every right to be a little selfish— he’s 10.

So, Jason has his hands over his eyes, representing ‘See No Evil’. This is a direct nod to his character flaw; his view of the world with him at the center. Although his parents are less than good to him, he still sees them through unfair lenses— ‘My mother’s no wife/My father’s no man’. He sings ‘everybody’s yelling and everybody’s ruining it’ in “Everyone Hates His Parents” because he is unhappy with how his Bar Mitzvah is turning out and wants to simply cancel it. He doesn’t have a concept of doing things for other people (again, he’s a child, I’m not blaming him per se), so he is blind to the will of others and refuses to see their side. In addition to this, even when Mendel tells him Whizzer will most likely die, Jason pleads with G-d to save him. He still views himself as the center of his world, thus Mendel’s line ‘Life’s not all about him’.

In addition to this, his ‘See No Evil’ means something when thought about from Trina’s perspective. She thinks her son is blind to the truth of the world, this son who stays inside playing chess alone, this son who ‘seems like an idiot to [Trina]’. She worries Jason will turn out like these other men in her world, blind to everyone but himself.

Now we come to Mendel, who has his hand over his mouth in ‘Speak No Evil’. Mendel’s flaw throughout the show is his refusal to accept the truth of any situation. He tells Jason to ‘feel alright for the rest of your life’ instead of actually trying to help, he is ‘frightened of questions’, he repeats over and over ‘I’ll make you well’ to Whizzer in the hospital. He will never say anything negative, nor will he allow others to do so. Even in the end of the show, he tells Jason they don’t know ‘when or if’ Whizzer will get better— he is still not accepting that it’s a definite thing. He believes that if he and those around him just don’t speak about the real problems, they’ll go away.

Trina’s view on Mendel is complicated here. In the next song she agrees to marry him, of course, and we know she at least likes him (the most of all three adults she knows). She says that Mendel ‘decides the role to assume’. She looks down on the fact that he can’t speak the truth to her, that he’s expecting this happy wife, this perfect new family. He wants her to play along with him and make their home together, even if she sings ‘liking our lives’ instead of loving. Even if he’s better than Marvin ever was, there’s still an element of control here. Mendel wants this family, and he wants them to all pretend nothing is ever wrong again.

Marvin, our titular character, is in the ‘Hear No Evil’ position. This one is fairly straight forward— he wants control and will never listen to the needs of those around him. He can’t hear what they actually need, he simply does what he wants. He also struggles with his masculinity throughout Act 1, his outward misogyny and need for the nuclear family (his treatment of Trina and Whizzer), so he imagines himself at the top of his family system. He will never take any other opinions, or counsel, in his decisions, seeing that as weakness. He’s similar to Jason in this regard, as he only hears what he wants to (like Jason only sees what he wants). He ignores the pain around him to pursue his own desires, he covers his ears and moves on.

Trina, of course, despises Marvin at this point in the show. Her subconscious showing Marvin in ‘Hear No Evil’ can tell us a lot about their relationship, how she was never seen as equal in decisions. Marvin always put her to the side, not listening to her needs, acting without thinking of her.

Whizzer is complicated. I’ve seen people laugh at his pose before, saying we’ve got ‘See No Evil, Hear No Evil, Speak No Evil, and Gay’, but I think he represents the ‘Do No Evil’. This final character is not often seen with the other three, and can be depicted with arms over the chest or covering the genitals. It wouldn’t make sense to have Whizzer be the outlier (especially because the fourth depiction of evil does exist), so I’m assuming he is supposed to be ‘Do No Evil’.

This fits in well with Whizzer’s flaws throughout the show. He doesn’t accept responsibility for his relationship with Marvin; seen in the lines ‘I’m not responsible’ during “Late For Dinner” or ‘I will not accept blame’ in “Games I Play”. He sleeps around, despite Marvin wanting monogamy, and clearly did not have an issue hooking up with a married man. Whizzer fundamentally doesn’t think his actions have consequences, he believes he has done nothing wrong (he has done no evil). Whizzer also has a hard time admitting to his love for Marvin. He says it ‘depends on the day’, he flat out says ‘no’ when asked if he loves him. He doesn’t want to show his love for fear of being too vulnerable, so he hides and doesn’t do anything about it.

To take this even further, him being ‘Do No Evil’ can represent his later question of ‘why me of all men’ when he is dying. He hasn’t done anything to deserve his death, and ‘all men get what they deserve’, right?

Moving on to how Trina sees Whizzer. He’s come into her life and ruined her marriage, though she ‘wants to hate him’ she can’t. She views him as the cause of her recent hardships, his actions being to blame. He is ‘Do No Evil’ to her because he has done evil in taking Marvin away (though it is obvious Trina is better off because of it). He has upset the careful balance of her world by breaking down the lies of her marriage and exposing the truth— Marvin never loved her, could never love her. She puts him in ‘Do No Evil’ because what he has done is what the rest of the men won’t— see, hear, speak the truth even at the detriment of her family.

Another way to view this is, of course, the fact that ‘Do No Evil’ is rarely seen with the others. Trina is separating Whizzer from the other men, not putting him in the same category as the rest of the ‘family’. He views himself as an outsider as well, yes he’s part of the group, but only as a technicality. Only as Marvin’s lover. Once he leaves Marvin, he is easily taken out of the equation and the remaining three do not feel the loss.

My conclusion is such: Each of the poses our men do represents the character flaw they must overcome throughout the show, as well as how Trina views them in her mind. I really hope this made any sort of sense, and if someone has already said all of this well… I guess it can’t hurt to be thorough.

I’m way too tired to read through this again so if there are spelling mistakes please print out this post, correct it in red pen, and send it to me by carrier pigeon.

[weepingtalecowboy]

Legend has very strange priorities

Fanfic prompt: Ravio and Legend have the weirdest relationship in the entire chain and it literally is the equivalent of a girl who had a perfect dream partner and then afterwards just settled for the least likely weirdo to abandon her

Like Legend definitively has no idea what a standard relationship is

It is either perfect or messy as hell with lots of issues from both sides

the chain talks about romance during a quiet moment (only the older ones over alcohol)

Time speaks about Malon and how much he loves her

Sky is not passing the opportunity to talk about Zelda

Twilight is talking about how a girl he loved left him and how he had to accept that she had left him for the safety of Hyrule

Warriors talks about some dates he had with some random women and doesn’t pass the chance to slander Cia for being a weird creep

And then Legend's turn starts

And he tells them the abridged story about how he met Ravio (because he will start crying if he has to talk about Marin)

But does it so poorly that everyone now thinks that Legend is in a relationship with a living, breathing red flag

Because who breaks into other peoples houses sets up a shop and scams you in your own god damn house

Then has the audacity to steal the weapons you were forced to rent from you if you get injured

And just rerent them to YOU

And then married you less then a month later to get a legal way to stay in Hyrule as an immigrant

And still is squatting at your house with their illegal weapons selling gig

And the only reason why you are not reporting on this madness is because you know for certain that he won’t leave you as your first lover did

Like afterwards the chain contemplated absolutely everything legend has ever done

Because his preservation skills on their adventure are not human

But he apparently sees nothing wrong with that relationship he has

Warriors already knew Ravio and his already low opinion on the scammer just dropped to below hell itself

Because no matter how much they argue Legend is his annoying younger brother who he won’t let down by letting him continue that mess of a relationship

Because Warriors knows how utterly awful such people can be and only barely escaped such a relationship himself with Cia

And now their new argument topic is about how awful Ravio seems and While Warriors is determined to make Legend see the truth about his supposedly terrible relationship

Legend not noticing that Warriors is serious about an argument for once accidentally makes it worse

Warriors: Do you think that he won't leave you if you go on adventures

Legend : he definitely won’t leave my house so no worries about that one

Warriors: ….?

Legend : I have high standards afterall

Warriors *genuinely concerned*: those are not standards that is basic decency what the actual…!?,?,”?!

Legend : he won’t even sell my stuff if he is feeling nice ,because he is a good boyfriend

Warriors: LINK WTF ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT THAT IS NOT FINE AT ALL

Legend : he also has never hurt me for no good reason so stop being hypocritical about it for no god damn reason (talking about that one time when Ravio had to slap him out of shock or when he did his stitches or similar necessary pain)

Warriors: WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WTF WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK !!?!?!?,!!!?!

Legend : it didn’t even hurt that much honestly it was just a slight sting if anything

And by that point Warriors was ready to execute somebody because his brother truly says everything like it is something nice of his partner

Spoiler it was not Legend

Twilight joined as well when Legend told him how much Ravio likes bunnies and how it probably keeps their entire relationship together

Because that is just wrong to diminish someone’s abilities into just that one thing ( Legend should stop with the self depriveing jokes for his husband’s sake )

By the time the chain was in Legend's Hyrule again everyone was out for blood

[tiki-was-here]

Billy Butcher x GN Reader Part 1

Word count: 1.1k

Uuuh reader has luck powers like domino from Deadpool. They’re a retired supe who became disgusted by the culture and their inability to save the people they really cared about. The boys lowkey kidnapped you because they wanted to use your powers for their own benefit and now you’re kinda just a part of the group. 

Takes place after a mission gone wrong where Hughie gets badly hurt and butcher starts tweaking like he always does. This was lowkey hard to write and i had to split it because butcher speaks like hes in a cartoon + school is kicking my ass

-------------------------------------------------------------------

The warehouse was dark, the air thick with the smell of damp concrete and blood. MM had already gone to lie down whilst Frenchie and Kimiko went to scrounge medical supplies. You were still catching your breath, leaning against the wall, watching Starlight pace like she was looking for a way to explain herself. The mission had gone wrong- horribly wrong.

Billy wasn’t letting it go.

“You just couldn’t fucking help yourself, could you?” he growled, rushing at her like a wild animal. His hands were clenched into fists, jaw tight. “We had one job. One. Fucking. Job. Get the bastard with the intel. But no, you had to go and play bloody hero.”

“Billy,” Starlight said, her voice trembling. “That girl—she was going to die.”

“And what’s that to you, eh?!” he snapped. “We needed the prick alive to tell us where Vought’s next lab is, and instead of doing your job, you decided to swoop in and save the day. You love it, don’t you? Being the fucking golden girl.”

“You think I wanted Hughie to get hurt? You think I wanted him to get away? We all make mistakes Butcher… blaming everything on me just isn’t fair. ” she shot back, her voice breaking.

“Fair?” he barked, laughing bitterly. “Life ain’t fair, sweetheart. You think I give a fuck about fair? People are gonna die because you couldn’t keep your shiny little nose out of it!”

“Enough. We’re all still alive and that’s all that matters.” you said, stepping between them. “You’ve made your point, Billy.”

His gaze shifted to you, dark and piercing. “Oh, don’t you fucking start. You wanna defend her, do you? Might I remind you that the only reason your sorry ass is even here is to make things easier on us? So far you’ve been fucking useless.”

You clenched your jaw, your heart pounding. “This isn’t about me.” (u lowkey kinda did insert yourself into the conversation tho dude) 

“The hell it isn’t!” he snapped. “You’re all the same. You think the rules don’t apply to you. Think your powers give you the right to do whatever you want. To make every decision for everyone else. And whenever you fuck it up -which you always do- someone else pays the price because god forbid you ever face some consequences. Luck my ass…You know what you really are? A walking disaster.”

“Drop it, Billy,” you said, your voice dangerously low.

“Oh, what’re you gonna do? Get mad? Use your little powers to make everything go your way, like you always do?” He stepped closer, towering over you now. “Here’s the truth, love: you’re no better than her. You’re no better than any of ‘em. Supes are all bloody the same. Arrogant, reckless, and absolutely fucking useless when it really matters.”

His words cut deep, sharper than you thought they could. Your hands trembled at your sides, and you could feel the heat rising in your chest.

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, don’t I?” he said, sneering. “I know enough. I know you’ve got no bloody clue what it’s like to live without some fucking crutch to lean on. You think you’re clever, think you’re helping. But you’re just another liability. Just another Supe.”

That was it. The line snapped.

“Fuck you, Billy!” you shouted, shoving him back. “I’m not one of them, and you know it. You’re just too much of an asshole to admit it!”

For a moment, he looked genuinely stunned. Then his expression hardened again. “Oh, what’s the matter? Did I hurt your feelings? Poor thing.”

You couldn’t take it anymore. With a growl of frustration, you turned on your heel and stormed out of the warehouse, the door slamming behind you. As much as you wanted to punch the shit out of him (and as much as you knew he deserved it), both your injuries were too severe to risk it. Your chest heaved with anger, tears stinging your eyes as you stalked down the dark alleyway.

He’d gone too far this time. You’d shared those things- your feelings, your failures- in confidence, making yourself vulnerable for the first time in years. 

Just for him to use it against you when things didn’t go his way. 

You’d make him apologize later, but for now you needed to clear your head

-----------------

Hours later, you found yourself wandering the streets, letting your luck guide you. You didn’t know why you were doing this—why you couldn’t just let it go. Maybe it was because you couldn’t stand the idea of letting him think he’d won.

Your feet led you to a cheap motel on the edge of town. Room 312. It just felt right

You knocked on the door, your heart pounding.

The door opened, and there he was, standing in the dim light of the hallway. His hair was a mess, his shirt rumpled, expression unreadable.

“You’ve got some nerve,” he said, his voice low.

“So do you,” you shot back, roughly pushing past him into the room.

He closed the door and turned to face you, his arms crossed over his chest. “What the fuck do you want?”

“I want you to shut the fuck up and listen for once,” you said, your voice shaking with barely contained fury. “You don’t get to talk to me like that. Not after everything I’ve done for you.”

“Oh, here we go,” he muttered, rolling his eyes. “Go on, then. Give me the sob story.”

“I’m serious, Billy. You think you’re the only one who���s been through shit? Newsflash: you’re not special. And just because you’re hurt doesn’t mean you get to hurt everyone else.”

His jaw tightened, but he stayed silent. 

“You want to call me a liability?” you continued, voice rising. “Fine. But you and I both know you wouldn’t have gotten half this far without me. So maybe, just maybe, you should start showing a little fucking gratitude.”

Billy’s eyes narrowed, and for a moment, you thought he might start shouting again. But instead, he just stood there, his chest rising and falling with uneven breaths.

“You done?” he asked finally, his voice quieter now but no less tense.

“No,” you said, stepping right up to him, your nose inches from his. “You don’t get to keep doing this. You don’t get to push me away just because you’re scared. You want to keep this thing between us? Then you’d better apologize . Because I’m not sticking around to be your punching bag.”

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. The air between you crackled with tension, the silence heavy and suffocating.

Then, finally, he spoke

“Make me.”

[ellapurnellmybeloved]

fluff alphabet |clarisse la rue

author's note: Hi lovelies, please send me requests! I don't know what gave me the confidence to think I can write, probably delusion. Also, this is according to my personal views of Clarisse so don't be mad if it's different from what you've imagined. Leave a comment, I love interacting with people, xx.

warnings: I tried my best to keep it gender/race/cabin neutral for the most part but there are still some feminine coded things here and there. English is not my first language so excuse any grammar mistakes.

A ctivities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

Starting off strong because with Clarisse sparring is a must. Although she doesn't like to think there will ever come a time in which she won't be there to protect you, it's still an essential part of life as a half-blood. And who better to train you than the daughter of war herself? And in case the apprentice becomes the master and you happen to beat her or pin her to the ground or even hold your dagger to her neck? Oh boy, she's done for. Actual heart eyes.

B eauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

She pretty much loves everything about you, she can't really just choose one aspect. Though, if she had to, she'd probably say she loves you for being supportive, understanding, and patient with her. You understand her better than anyone. That's what made her know you were the one for her. You can control her anger issues and calm her down when she's on the verge of exploding and she thinks that's beautiful.

C omfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc?

The art of intimacy or comfort never came easy to Clarisse. Her relationship with her mother isn't the best and hasn't been for a while now and her father is a grade A asshole. Her first instinct when you're feeling down is to fix it, to ask you who or what happened and give them a physical piece of her mind, but that's not always how it works. She'll pull you to her lap and hold you through the night or for as long as you need, wiping your tears and kissing your cheeks. She'll let you vent your heart out. You can tell her anything. Or nothing, if you prefer. She's not the best with words but her actions speak much louder.

D reams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

She's never thought that much ahead if she's being honest. Never allowed herself to daydream too much into the future, choosing to live off the present for now. Sometimes, however, she pictures what could be only described as an utopia; to go on such a fantastical quest that the gods can't help but grant the both of you immortality, that way you'd bask in the glory of your love forever and ever.

E qual - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

On the outside looking in it would seem Clarisse is the dominant one for sure. And in some ways she is; she likes that you can rely on her, she wants to provide for you, yearns to prove herself capable of such. Still, you're the one in charge. Clarisse is completely devoted to you, and your relationship means more to her than anything she's ever felt before. She cherishes it like no other, always at your beck and call.

F ight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

Clarisse is intense, that much we know. Her anger runs deep and her passion burns red. She's not perfect, and doesn't try to hide it either. She's hot-tempered, arrogant, she's got a short fuse and she holds grudges. Her fatal flaw is pride, which sometimes gets in the way of her good senses, so you'll most likely be the one apologizing first. Despite all that, she can't bear the thought of you being mad at her and absolutely hates fighting with you. It's like it's tearing her apart, especially if you're sad over something she said or did in the heat of the moment. Truth is, she is a fighter at heart so when all is said and done she'll try and make it up to you in some way, somehow.

G ratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

She is so appreciative of everything you do and are. As previously stated, Clarisse didn't get much love growing up so any semblance of that is something she clings hard to. She notices everything, every little thing you do for her and the underlying of your words. How you treat her and others is always stored in the back of her mind and she loves to be loved by you.

H onesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

Clarisse is a very closed off person in general, she doesn't like feeling exposed and being possibly seen as weak. She'll tell you things but there's still some matters you have to pick up on your own and know how to approach them, especially regarding her feelings and personal struggles. She's very honest though, she feels like she owns you that much and appreciates you if you do the same for her. The more your relationship progresses you'll notice being able to read her like an open book because although she does her very best to hide it there's an underlying vulnerability to her behavior in certain moments you'll take proper notice of the more you know her.

I nspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

Clarisse has definitely become more gentle since you. It still doesn't extend to your friends and family but more so how she behaves around you and knowing she doesn't have to put up that though front all the time. Her sense of self worth has improved as well, especially when you reassure her through her insecurities and doubts (never being the son her father wanted etc.)

J ealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

Oh, boy. Clarisse’s jealousy is very fuelled by… Well, anything really. She doesn't necessarily need a motive to go toe to toe with someone, just staring at you for a second longer than she deems them worthy of and she's ready for a fight. It's hard for anyone to get close enough to flirt with you because she's always there, by your side, kind of like a guard dog. But only because she knows how amazing you are and her insecurities do blurry some lines on what's acceptable. She's working on it though.

K iss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Clarisse is definitely a good kisser. She doesn't have much experience, if any, but she's a natural. It sounds cheesy but the first time she kisses you was like butterflies and church bells dancing loudly in the wind. The way she cups your face so uncharacteristically soft and how she breaks off the kiss with a series of small pecks only to smile one of her beautiful smiles so close to each other's faces… Magical. It could be at the fireworks on the fourth of July or it could be in your favorite spot in the woods, soaked in lake water during a midnight swim or after a heated argument. No matter how many times Clarisse kisses you, she'll never not feel electricity similar to her spear’s sharp edge digging into her body and soul.

L ove Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

Clarisse does not have a clue what she's doing. I feel like she'd say something in the heat of the moment; either confessing her true feelings or masking them by saying something hurtful she doesn't actually mean. In the latter scenario she'd storm off and berate herself over it but her pride and fear that you'd never look at her again made her put off her apology for some time and let it all sink in to talk to you when she's ready. That is until you start properly ignoring her and she nearly goes crazy with longing, just missing your overall presence and having her stomach turn to knots at the way things were left between you two. That's one of the few times Clarisse sucks it up and reaches for you. The apology is awkward but overwhelmingly honest and she tells you she's an idiot but you're content in forgiving her and giving her a second (actual first) chance.

M arriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

Again, Clarisse never thought she'd live to see the day she'd actually have a marriage prospect. Her life just doesn't seem complete without you anymore and the moment she realizes that she's done for. It would probably be while you're laying in bed together, your head on her chest while you play with her fingers. Your eyes are heavy with sleep but hers are wide open, thinking. “Will you marry me?” said while staring into the distance and you probably think she's joking except Clarisse is not one to joke about that sort of thing. “Not now. But eventually.” and whether you ask if she's serious or just accept it right away, she'd look at you seriously for a beat and then tackle you into a bear hug, crushing you underneath her. She doesn't see the point in a big wedding, but if that's what you're into, she won't mind.

N icknames - What do they call their s/o?

She is not immune to babe or baby but would still like to keep some variety. Things like sunshine, gorgeous, angel or others (I'm looking at you, person who created the “mama/s” HC). She does like your name very much, or probably a shortened version of it. Don't expect her to not tease you if any of these make you flustered.

O n Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

Clarisse likes to think she's good at hiding it when she's absolutely not. As Taylor Swift once said, you can hear it in the silence. Just the way her eyes soften when she's looking at you speaks millions, but people also get whiplash at how fast her mean attitude changes whenever you're around. Her love giving languages are probably acts of service and physical touch. She loves to do things for you, feeling all big and mighty whenever she can make your life just a little easier. Touching is also a must but we'll get to that in a second.

P DA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

Clarisse is not very comfortable with public displays of affection, because she is afraid of being judged or mocked by others for being weak or soft. She prefers to keep her relationship with you private and intimate, but doesn't mind the little things. She does gloat about being with you as well as showing you off, so that everyone on camp knows you're hers. She brags about you all the time and I mean, seriously, all the time. She's not a big hand holder but she almost over compensates by grabbing at your hips and thighs, throwing an arm over your shoulder or hiding her face in your neck. She especially loves bonfires when you sit on her lap and she can hold firmly onto your waist while she's talking to her siblings or just press her forehead against yours when her social battery is low.

Q uirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

She's very perceptive. She may not know what has changed right away but she's also persistent so she'll figure it out in an instant. If it's the way you did your hair or something that happened along your day, even if you change your usual greeting. She notices and she'll definitely ask you about it.

R omance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

Clarisse wants to be loved, that's all she’s ever wanted, and she has so much love to give, therefore I believe she'll do just about anything to make you happy. That includes being an absolute sap. She honestly doesn't mind how cliche it is, if it works on you, you bet she's using it. If anyone cares to say anything remotely negative about you or your relationship she will promptly glare them into oblivion or give them something to really worry about.

S upport - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

She is your absolute biggest supporter. Especially if you don't believe in yourself, then she's trying even harder for you to see just how well you can do something if you put your mind to it. With something like sword training she is more than willing to help you, rewarding you with kisses and cursing you for distracting her with your pretty face.

T hrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

Clarisse doesn't mind change, she rolls with it. If you have a certain way of doing things, a routine you like to follow, that's fine by her. If you're unpredictable, even better. She just loves to see what comes next in terms of your relationship, not necessarily needing anything to amplify her love for you. It's already hardwired into her.

U nderstanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

She knows you like the back of her hand. Even the slightest furrow of your eyebrows or tilt of your head and she'll be there in a second asking what's wrong. She does learn to be more empathetic towards your own struggles, which was hard at first because she wasn't sure how to see things from someone else's point of view. Though road but you make it work.

V alue - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

She doesn't have much to look forward to so Clarisse values her relationship with you very highly, as you are one of the few people who can see past her tough and aggressive exterior and appreciate her softer and more vulnerable side. She is fiercely loyal and protective of you, and would do anything to keep you safe and happy.

W ild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

I actually read this one on a Wattpad story a while ago so credit to the original creator but, Clarisse has a teddy bear named Mr. Muscles she's had since she was like, nine and she cherishes it like it's her most prized possession. When she introduced this piece of information to you, you just found her so incredibly adorable you couldn't contain the giggles and she gets so hot in the face she pushes you off her bed and it's honestly one of the most memorable moments in your relationship.

X OXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

I headcanon Clarisse as your personal furnace as well as a koala bear so kisses and cuddles are a must, especially if it's cold outside. She loves to take naps with you, it gets to the point where she has trouble sleeping without you (so you give her a vial of your perfume to spray on Mr. Muscles for when you're away).

Y earning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

Clarisse with you: 🥰

Clarisse without you: 😡

She gets snappier than usual and easily annoyed but she'll also get really sad because she's never had to deal with being away from you. Her siblings try to cheer her up by shoving some kid's head into the toilet but she's so disinterested in anything that does not involve you she just goes about her days training until she can see you again and show off her muscles.

Z eal - Are they willing to go to great lenghts for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

The answer is yes, one hundred percent. “Touch her and you die” trope goes so hard. Not only that but she would willingly sacrifice the world and herself for you and your relationship. She would go out of her way to make sure you are okay, that you are fed and hydrated and well rested, even messing up her own sleeping schedule in order to take better care of you.

[zahri-melitor]

...I think one of the reasons I just get bored by a lot of meta and stories about Jason, is that fundamentally I have this issue where for me the most interesting part and the topic I grew up on was the loss that Bruce existed within for essentially all of post-Crisis, rather than Jason feeling that he was failed.

Because I've read and are more invested in comics about Bruce Wayne published between 1989 and 2011.

Because the story of dealing with a traumatic loss of someone before their time, and about Bruce's pain and coping mechanisms (and the pain and coping mechanisms of everyone else around him), is just so much more compelling to me and speaks to my own pain and loss and regrets.

Because of Bruce standing at Jason's grave with Cass on his 18th birthday and trying to talk to Cass about someone she's never met, someone who she only can know by the shape of the loss of those around her, as he talks about the terrible ways parents can love and his regrets. Because he can't even face doing this with Barbara or Dick or Tim.

Because of Bruce's slow progress to see a world again, beyond his loss. To pass through his grief and find a way to face continuing to live and to prevent himself from spiraling back.

Because of the stories Bruce has to tell himself, as he sorts through what he can know and what he can never know, to try and find motivation and reason. And how we know that Bruce will look away from the obvious, searching for another reason and for justification at times when the truth is too close to him.

And every time I see people siding with Jason, mad, that Bruce is so stubborn and firm about his boundaries and personal motivations and what he will and will not do.

It's like. Oh. You don't know and feel that bone deep loss, and understand how fragile yet resilient Bruce's healing is. That he did the right thing, the healthy thing, the only thing he could do to cope...and moved forward. The loss is still there, but he's developed layers of protective callus over it so that he can think about things other than the loss.

Because Bruce chose to live. He chose to move forward. And the fact he largely does not allow himself to wallow is a good thing and the demands that he should turn his back on all that healing because his coping mechanisms are not the ones that Jason Todd, resurrected, thinks he should have had?

Jason wasn't there. He couldn't have been there. And fundamentally he does not have the right to determine Bruce's reaction, because it wasn't about him. It was about Bruce, himself.

[animeyanderelover]

For my Second request, of 10 random yandere of your choosing, being involved with a gang member female s/o who hides the fact she’s part of another gang from her yandere. She hides the fact she’s part of a gang due to several reasons: she feels a sense of connection and community with her gang, she feels obligated to be loyal to them as her gang had saved her and accepted her, she doesn’t want to be judged by her yandere that she is a part of a gang, and she knows with how stubborn/passionate their yandere is they will try to get involved and she wants to avoid that. With this reasons in mind, she tries to hide it, however, she sucks at lying, so whenever she gets injured, she basically tells them the truth but skips over the fact that since she’s part of a gang, she got it from fighting. But she’s says everything so cheerfully and obliviously, as if it’s no big deal. Such as “oh, this bruise on my arm? Some guy on a motorcycle tried to hit me on the head with a steel pipe, but I caught it (totally not the fact a rival gang member tried to jump Me)” or “oh my broken leg? That’s due to some guy trying to shank me at the side of the street, but don’t worry I kicked them to Valhalla!! (totally not from a group fight where a rival gang member played dirty)” It eventually reaches a point where she becomes hospitalized, but she cheerfully insists that she fell down the stairs, but the yandere by then already knows something is up.

I'm so sorry but this request is low-key Tokyo Revengers coded so this entire post is just characters from Tokyo Revengers. I only wrote about 7 characters since I've been under stress with my most recent exams so I hope that isn't too bad.

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive relationship, obsession, clinginess, manipulation, bribery, violence, injuries, isolation, female s/o

Gang member s/o who sucks at lying

Hanagaki Takemichi

👊​You'd think being part of Toman and having been part of countless battles would have hardened him against violence, especially because he himself has tanked quite a lot of heavy punches and kicks in fights. Any trace of normality has been thrown out of the window ever since he discovered his ability to travel back in time and he has most certainly been misguided by believing that you could provide him with a lingering sense of regularity. Seriously, with the way his life has been shaping what was he even thinking? Normally someone who is on the easier spectrum of being portentially manipulated by his darling since he is a simp, Takemichi recognises occuring injuries you suffer from all too well. His heart always drops when you appear with a new broken limb or injury, though by now he at least doesn't collapse out of shock like he did the first time he saw your horrendous condition. He's seen those wounds before and he has been in a similar position as you before. You can't fool him this time, as lovesick as he may be.

👊​His initial reaction would be to beg you to stop with the way you are living but he is surprisingly self-reflective enough to realise after his initial panic that it would be quite hypocritical of him to ask you to leave your gang whilst he himself has risked his life multiple times for Toman before. To top it all, he knows just how stubborn and scary you can be if you are told to do something against your will, even he is frightened of you when you get mad though it's somewhat sexy too. He turns to people like Chifuyu and Draken to ask them about other gangs they know about besides Toman to figure out in which gang you are even in and as a Division Leader and essentially another head of Toman overall, he does what he can to ensure that you will never get into a fight with Toman and him. Whilst he hasn't seen you fight just yet, judging from how well you deal with injuries he can tell that you are quite robust but he'd rather get beaten up bloody before he has to see you getting hurt in front of him.

👊​He eventually breaks down when he receives news that you had to get hospitalised due to a recent brawl that escalated. He goes down on his knees, begging you to stop with this as he is mentally beating himself up for not having done more to prevent this from happening. Takemichi has a habit of thinking that he has to shield everything by himself as the time traveler and for that beats himself all the more up when something terrible happens as he sees it as his sole fault for not having done more. He starts gearing up to finally take direct action. His route is initially surprisingly diplomatic as he offers your gang to work together as he wants to protect you in future fights either himself or by knowing that there are capable guys he trust involved in the fight yet a rejection won't be accepted in his vocabulary. Always one prone to attempting to do everything on his own, he's probably going to ask for a fight with your leader, even if they are a better fighter than him. No matter how heavy their punches are though, he always gets back up, desperate for them to accept his conditions and not caring what happens to him in the process.

Sano Manjiro

🦶​There is no way to deteriorate Mikey's obsession into something leaning into his dark impulses faster than a darling as reckless as you. It is in a way almost laughable how oblivious you can be to the obvious signs of it all as you give him that carefree grin, reminiscent of the one he always has when he is in a relaxed and playful mood. Only that he does not reciprocate your grin, dark eyes widening as he looks at the cast plastered over your broken leg before dulling when you chirp cheerfully that a few guys ganged up on you. Your half-baked reassurance that you broke the nose of one of the guy and are responsible for a broken jaw of another one does not heal the growing hole in his heart. Instead he steps closer to you, hands grasping your shoulders in a tight hold as he asks you in a flat tone to tell him who did this to you, his grip tightening the longer he stares at the cast. You only get a few seconds to assure him that you dealt with them yourself before he cuts you off quickly. Answer his question. Who. Did. This. To. You.

🦶​Even Draken is astonished with the sheer outrageous lies you conjure up whenever a new bruise or cast appears on your body yet you insist cheerfully every time that it was a stupid coincidende or accident. It really isn't hard to deduce that you are also involved with a gang and brawl regularly with them and that knowledge only has Mikey seething with rage even more. His mind is filled with dark thoughts of murdering every piece of shit who kicked and punched you to the point where some members have caught him mumbling about his horrific fantasies, deeply stuck in his thoughts that he didn't even notice them standing there and looking at him mildly terrified. Another emotion that crawls up his spine after the revelation though is one that is a much sharper and stinging pain. Betrayal. Betrayal that you chose to keep your gang life a secret from him and betrayal that you chose them over him. He would have gladly let you join Toman if you would have asked him. Sure, he wouldn't have let you fight but he would have taken you with him anywhere. Why do you stay loyal to your gang still? He's your boyfriend...

🦶​Paranoia gets the best of him as he fears that you would choose them over him. It is a thought that dominates his heart and mind with fear and growing dark urges. Mikey normally is a person who doesn't want to show any weakness around others yet it is a different story with you. He demands of you to leave your gang and just join his instead so that you two can always be with each other and so that he can guarantee that no bastard harms you ever again yet it is when you firmly refuse that he snaps. Your rejection and affirmation of your loyalty to your gang essentially confirms his paranoia that you value them more than him and would drop him for them. With nothing able to hold him back, he drowns in his obsession and goes after your own gang with Toman, irrational to the point where no one can stop him. The final nail in the coffin is your hospitalisation that convinces him that your gang isn't even capable of protecting you. Toman assaults your gang whilst you lay in the hospital and Mikey takes on your leader, merciless and brutal even after they are down before he tells them with blank eyes that from now on you belong to his gang and that they'd do better to stay away from you.

Ryuguji Ken

🐉​Draken should technically be used to this all and he can't deny that this all is very reminiscent with experiences he was with another person in his life. Exhausting antics, a tendency to get into brutal fights and brush off all injuries despite their seriousness and a carefree grin always given to calm his nerves. It's like taking care of Mikey all over again yet the protective nature he has quickly tranform into an overprotective obsession with you as his darling. He's had his suspicions from a very early point on as he is well informed about gangs and the violent life they lead as the vice-president of Toman. Swollen eyes, broken limbs and other injuries you constantly have the next time he sees you quickly leads him to the conclusion that you must be involved with a gang yourself. Honestly, it really isn't hard to figure it out and he doesn't even know why you are so surprised when he presents you with his theory. Really, have you ever listened to yourself lying before? You're the worst person at lying he has ever met so far.

🐉​Whilst Draken won't demand of you to abandon your gang like Mikey does, he is not fully convinced to let you continue as you are doing either. He starts prying for more information and even if you do not want to tell him about certain aspects, it is rather easy for him to read you due to your inability to be convincing when you lie. It's by constantly questioning you without putting you under pressure by upholding a interested and caring facade that he is soon able to have a rather accurate picture about your gang and its members. That's when he starts using other ways to gather more intel about the individual members of your gang, mainly by letting members from Toman spy on them. All of that of course in secrecy as he wouldn't want to displease you as he's aware that you do not want to get him involved in your life. Draken on the other hand wants to figure out now how capable and loyal the people of your gang really are as you obviously view them in a subjective light and could never seriously criticise them.

🐉​His mind is made up when you land in the hospital with severe injuries from your last fight. His expression is unreadable as he visits you, dark eyes watching you as you muster a grin and tell him that everything is fine and you just fell down the stairs in an attempt to hide from him that you got into a rather intense fight this time before he interrupts you. He thinks it would be better for you to leave your gang. In a short fit of outrage, you nearly get out of bed but he quickly forces you back down and hisses at you to lay still or else your injuries will open up again. His gaze is firm though as he informs you that he doesn't think the members of your gang are good enough to survive gang life out there nor do they possess other qualities needed in his opinion. You're terribly stubborn and he knows that but he can't bear to watch you like this anymore. He will have to find a way to have you leave the gang or to come up with an idea how to break them off. Perhaps he should pay your leader a visit himself and show them just how silly their fantasies are. A good dose of genuine fear may finally help them realise just how dangerous the life of a gang not suited enough is in the streets out there...

Baji Keisuke

🖤​People like Chifuyu can only watch with eyes as wide as saucers as it is almost like watching two Bajis at once when you are around. The similarities between him and you are mindblowing and Baji himself isn't sure whether he should find this amusing or if he should be slightly concerned. Your grin is like a trademark, one that you always flash him even if there are stitches over your eyebrow or if multiple fingers of yours are bandaged. Baji on the other hand always turns up his sleeves whenever he sees your injuries, a feral grin of his own on his face that does little to hide his sparking anger as he asks you which bitch he has to pummel into the ground. The First Division Captain is strikingly possessive and protective and his concern mainly shown in his willingness to beat anyone up who he suspects to be responsible for your emotional or physical strain. He has never gotten a truthful answer from you though as you always come up with bullshit on the spot in hopes of calming him down.

🖤​Whilst Baji may lack in academical knowledge though, he is someone who has a sharp intellect and can understand things well outside of school. He suspects that there is something up that you don't want him to know about and it irritates him that you keep it from him. The irritation is quite visible on his face but he doesn't force you immediately to spit it out what you are keeping from him. As a countermeasure to the wounds you have received though, you find Baji taking the role of the guard dog for you whenever you go anywhere. He's far too stubborn to listen to you when you reassure him that you can spend time on your own without the need for him to protect you. The injuries pile up on you though and he feels more and more like wanting to murder someone as he starts pressuring you to tell him the truth only for you to remain silent. Chifuyu eventually brings up his idea that you may also be involved in a gang and fight with them as your injuries and your horrible lies would line up nicely with that theory.

🖤​Somehwere in his mind he can acknowledge your loyalty to your gang as he is nothing short of dedicated to Toman as well yet there is a double standard that becomes soon apparent. He'd rather have you take a step back from gang life as he deems you as too weak to continue. Far too often do you end up with wounds and injuries that he takes as proof that you are not good enough in fights and that belief is especially strengthened when you end up needing to stay for a longer time in the hospital due to your most recent injuries. Both of you get in an argument as neither of you backs off from their belief and it ultimately leaves Baji with no choice but solve things the way he knows best. With a good brawl. He seeks out your gang himself and challenges them to a fight. If he wins, he demands of them to disband and to not get involved in fights anymore. He's fully prepared to become the villain in your eyes, though that doesn't mean that he'll let you leave him. If you really wanna beat up people that bad though, he wouldn't mind jumping random guys in the streets with you. You look rather hot after all whilst beating someone up...

Mitsuya Takashi

🪡If there is one person in Toman who would see right through your lies even if you wouldn't be such a terrible liar, next to Draken obviously, it's Mitsuya. As level-headed and calm as he is, he serves as the counterpart to your reckless and occasionally feral behavior by attempting to calm you down and talking some sense into your brain. He can tell by simply observing you and taking notice of your injuries that you are part of a gang. Whilst Takashi is also a very essential part of Toman, he surprisingly enough isn't too keen on fighting unless it is absolutely needed which is why your willingness to constantly join the fights of your gang is something he is secretly displeased about. He may not outright scold you nor even let you know that he is already on about your secret that you try to cover with horrendeous lies yet he is already trying to make plans himself. As someone who is a subtle manipulator, Mitsuya gently coaxes you into revealing bits of information about your gang and the individual members every time you two meet.

🪡​Partially he is self-aware about the fact that you essentially do what lots of members in Toman would also do. Inherently he isn't completely against the loyalty and devotion you exhibit for your gang yet all the wounds and injuries you constantly suffer as a result hamper his patience and willingness to let you go on that way. You disregard your own health and body and merely brush it off as little scratches even if he reminds you sternly that one day you may not get away with only a broken leg or twenty stitches. Really, he doesn't want to be overbearing but how can he not end up being very overprotective when you yourself are so incapable of looking after yourself? It gets more noticable as time passes by and he essentially turns into the overly worried mother for you who constantly has to remind you to rest in bed or take it easy to not strain your already injured body. He offers all the help he can give though even if you reject it, he'll end up giving it to you anyways.

🪡​You do not know that yet but Mitsuya has actually already gotten in contact with some members of your gang out of concern for you yet it is when you end up in dire need of an operation that he finds himself confronting them with a much more serious disposition. This has gone too far. You could have died this time around. He demands of them to do some serious reflection on their ways and reminds them that they would stand no real chance if a bigger group would ever decide to take them on. A serious and level-headed composure can be rather frightening under the right circumstances and this is what happens in that moment as he also reveals nonchalantly that he has gotten his hand on some unsavory information that could end up fatal if given to the wrong people. He refrains from violence and instead goes with blackmailing for now, though perhaps his status as a Division Captain is already protection and intimidation enough. Perhaps it would be seen as dirty in the eyes of your gang and even yourself but Mitsuya would be open enough to admit that he has actually held back merely because you see those people as your friends and from what he has observed, they value you as well.

Matsuno Chifuyu

🟡​Chifuyu is the definition of loyal and sticks with you through thick and thin even if your antics threaten to drive him up the wall at times. Your whole demeanor reminds him very vividly of his own Division Captain and even Baji himself likes to make jokes about it when you spend time with Chifuyu. Truthfully spoken, it really isn't difficult to sense that there is something you are hiding with all the injuries that litter your body on some days. You deny it every single time as you come up with an explanation for every broken limb or every scar and stitch that you sport yet seem very unaware of the fact that your lies only fuel his suspicion further. Chifuyu is honestly not sure whether he should be baffled or pull at his hair in frustration whenever you present him with another excuse for an injury. Do you even know that you suck at lying or do you genuinely believe people to accept the lies that you offer? He's worried for you though even if you lie to him again and again and refuse to tell him the truth and those protective instincts push him to grow clingier, worried that with your careless behavior you might end up reopening some stitches.

🟡​He tolerates your bullshit for quite a while though even if he feels like a kicked puppy every time he attempts to ask you if you could tell him the truth only for you to dismiss it with yet another of your stupid lies. Chifuyu is honestly too good to you at times and he is actually self-aware of that but can't help himself. The longer this drags on though and the more serious your injuries get, the more he finds himself pushed closer to the edge. He knows, alright! He knows already that you must be involved in the gang life yourself but it is killing him that you don't let him in on it. He could help you. He could protect you! He's your boyfriend, for fuck's sake. Why are you locking him out? The habit of stalking you is solely born because you refuse to let him in on everything and it is via stalking that he also figures out who the other people belonging to your gang are. He hates to admit it but he feels a sense of anxiety as he realises just how loyal you are to them and wonders if he is just second place as he has entered your life after you had already met your gang.

🟡​He's witness to another violent fight between your gang and another one and when he realises that you are down and seriously injured, he rushes in and takes the beating for you from a member of the enemy gang. Even bruised and battered though, he puts your health before his own as he drives you to the hospital where he waits for hours on end before he can finally visit you. Even then you still dare to lie to him and that's when he breaks. He lashes emotionally out as tears run down his face. Are you serious?! You're still trying to lie to him?? Do you really think of him as that untrustworthy?? It's rare for him to let his emotions overwhelm him easily but it happens in that moment, the most prominent ones are betrayal and a doubtful fear that he really means less to you than your own gang. It's after his outburst that he is finally done with keeping up with your behavior as he reasons that he has in fact been too tolerant about everything. No wonder that you seem to take him for an idiot. He hasn't been assertive enough. That'll change from today on though...

Kokonoi Hajime

💴​Normally Kokonoi would love to mess around with his darling a bit since he can be a tad bit more malicious and sadistic at times yet it's those repetitive injuries that trigger a vulnerable and raw side out of him. Every time he spots you with new broken bones or he notices a freshly stitched wound of yours, his mind automatically flashes back to Akane in the hospital. There is probably no quicker way than to break him down faster than constantly appearing with new casts or stitches in front of him. There has never been a time where he hasn't demanded from you with narrowed eyes to tell him who did this to you so that he can arrange some things here and there to see it through that they never bother you again yet it is your unwillingness to tell him and always present him with a dumb lie of yours that always serves as fuel to the stirring inferno. Whether you see him as an idiot or merely try to hide something from him and just suck at lying, his anger only festers every time another lie leaves your lips.

💴​It really doesn't take long for Kokonoi to already know everything he needs to know and he is beyond unhappy. As someone whose obsession is one build one possessiveness and the desire to control his darling, everything you personify goes against his own wants. You are far too independent, recklessly throw yourself into brawls to defend the honor of your gang as your loyalty lies with them when it should belong to him and risk your own body and health as a result which seems to be a constant fear that has a vice-grip on his heart. He despises your antics and the grin you give him every time you end up with a new reminder of your most recent fight and act as if nothing happened at all. Do you seriously think you'll be fine or do you simply not care? Part of his ire is also turned against your gang though as he loathes them for many reasons. Not only does he see them as a threat to your safety but also as rivals he has to get rid of. He has to cut their ties with you and make you believe that they abandoned you so that he can swap roles with them and become the person you depend on.

💴​Money has always been something he could use to corrupt and buy people and he uses it in this situation as well. He hires thieves to work as spies for him and collect more information on the life your gang leads as well as digging up some dirt on individual gang members. Even if he finds none, he can always make up some stuff. As Kokonoi wants to break your trust in your own gang, he even attempts bribing them with money and manipulating them to abandon you. It's when he is informed that you were sent to the hospital and had to go through surgery that he finally loses composure when he visits you only to be greeted with that same cursed smile that you have been giving him since forever. Do you have a death wish or what?! He flips out for a few moments, hisses out words dripping with venom as he openly admits how he feels about your gang and directs some of his words against you as well. He won't let you risk your life for those people! He can't understand for the life of him what worth they could possibly have. You just wait, he will see it through that you will never see them again.

[venusacrossthestars]

a choice I can live with

Summary: you thought that after that night in Monaco you would never see Carlos Sainz again. but what do they say? when one door closes another door opens.

Pairing- Carlos Sainz x fem!reader

WC-10,182

warnings- swearing, making out, it gets a little hot and heavy towards the end, angst, Lando is more of an ass than he was in part one, reader is in her feels, the word slut is used.

this is a part 2 to 'a choice I don't want to make' read it HERE before reading this part

F1 masterlist

December 2021

You didn't like this foreign feeling that was settled in your stomach. All you were trying to do was pick out a movie while your popcorn cooled down, so why did it all feel so wrong? Sighing, you turned off the TV and placed the remote on the coffee table. It was Lando’s turn to pick the movie. The thought washed over you like a tidal wave. Suddenly the aspect of having a movie night no longer sounded appealing. Picking up the popcorn bowl from the coffee table, you walked over to the trash can and threw away the popcorn. Just like 15 years of friendship.

You plopped back down on your couch, sinking into the cushions. The last time you had seen Lando had been that night in Monaco; the last time you had any contact with him was when you sent him that text the following morning. That was in May. You knew that he saw your message, the taunting little ‘read’ underneath had only made you feel worse. As if it wasn’t the consequences of your own actions.

The past 6 and a half months had been miserable. Every time you had exciting news you found yourself thinking- ‘I can’t wait to tell Lando!’ only to remember that you couldn’t. You could barely talk to your own mother without feeling more guilt over the situation. You could feel her disappointment through the phone. As your mother, she was on your side, she told you as much, but it wasn’t without a disappointed sigh. 

You had other friends, you had a world that didn’t revolve around your now ex-best friend but sometimes it didn’t feel like it. However, the couple of times that you had braved stalking Lando’s socials you couldn’t help but feel as if he never needed you. Maybe that was the truth. 

You could face Lando’s socials, and you could manage the tweets and comments you saw about him. But you couldn’t bring yourself to check Carlos’s. Maybe it was the fear of seeing that he moved on. Maybe it was that he seemed perfectly fine. That was something you were comfortable staying in the dark with. 

A knock on the door startles you out of your pitiful self-deprecating spiral. You silently groan, it was too late to be dealing with people. Maybe it was one of your neighbor's friends who got the numbers mixed up and if you stayed silent they would realize. The universe must really have it out for you because the knocking continued, louder and more insistent than before. Getting up, you shuffled to the door taking a quick peek through the peephole. The face on the other end had you quickly undoing the chain and unlocking the deadbolt. 

“Carlos?” 

“Hi.” Is the only thing that Carlos says. 

You rub your eyes, making sure that he wasn’t an illusion, that you haven’t gone mad in these past months. When you bring your hands away from your eyes and re-open them, Carlos is still there standing in front of you with a bouquet of white tulips.

Carlos breaks the silence, “These are for you,” he holds out the bouquet, “I was told that white tulips represent an apology and forgiveness.” 

“Forgiveness?” You parrot back, not taking the flowers. Why is giving you flowers that represent an apology and forgiveness? “What are you apologizing for?” 

Carlos rocks back and forth on his heels, ignoring your question, “Can I come in?” 

You move away from the door frame and hold the door wider allowing for Carlos to enter. Embarrassment washes over you as you come to the realization that this is the first time Carlos has been in your flat, and while it didn’t look like a total disaster, you certainly wish it was cleaner. 

“What are you apologizing for?” You ask again. 

Carlos spins to face you, “Do you have a vase for these?” 

“Carlos,” you try again, “what are you doing here?”

Carlos wanders towards your kitchen, “Like I said, I am here to apologize.” He waves the flowers around. 

“What are you apologizing for?” 

“All of it. For letting Lando talk to you like that. For letting you leave with him. For letting you walk away that night on the roof. For not responding back to your text. I’m mostly sorry for how long it took me to come see you, to come talk to you.” 

“Carlos, you don’t need to apologize. For any of it.” 

“It takes two to tango.” He points out.

“It’s been 6 and a half months Carlos, you should move on.”

“Have you?”

That simple question was all it took for you to break. Honestly, you should have been able to move on. You should’ve been able to leave this whole situation back in Monaco. So why were your feelings for Carlos just as strong as they were back then? Even after your attempt to cut him out of your life he still stood here in your flat with a bouquet of flowers, apologizing for not coming to you sooner. 

“I haven’t,” you whisper, not trusting your voice.

Carlos sets the flowers down on the counter and moves in front of you. You avert your gaze to the ground, knowing that if you looked him in the eyes there would be no stopping the tears. 

Carlos doesn’t let you. His hand gently moves your chin so that you are looking him directly in the eyes. He doesn’t say anything about your tears, he only moves to wipe them away and unlike that night in Monaco, you let him. His hands are still surprisingly soft, just like that night the two of you kissed. 

He moves his hands away and you nearly sob at the loss of contact but before you can say anything Carlos is pulling you into his chest. His arms wrap around your middle, hands sprawled out across your back. It takes you a second to register what is happening but once you do you are quick to mirror his motions. 

You bury your head into his chest and close your eyes. There is something about being wrapped in Carlos’s arms that makes you feel like everything is going to be okay. You take in a shaky breath. You haven’t been this happy to see someone in a long time and that simple thought is what causes you to break out in sobs. 

Carlos tries to pull away, presumingly to ask you if everything is okay, but you are quick to pull him back into your embrace. “Just hold me. Please.” You manage out between sobs. 

“As you wish.” 

You don’t know how long you stand in the middle of your kitchen in Carlos’s arms, and frankly, you don’t care. The soothing circles Carlos rubs on your back and the gentle swaying of both your bodies is enough to make you calm down. 

“Do you want to sit down?” Carlos pulls away, hands still holding your arms. 

You nod, leading him into your living room, and you sink into your couch. Carlos sits directly next to you, close enough to where both of your thighs rest against each other. “I’m sorry,” you begin, “I didn’t mean to get snot all over your shirt.” 

“No need to apologize.” 

“I’m sorry for more than that. I’m sorry too Carlos, for all of it. I never meant for any of this to happen.” 

“Stop,” Carlos puts his hand up and you close your mouth. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. That night I was hurt, I didn’t stop to think what it was like in your shoes. I'll never know what it is like to have my supposed ‘best friend’ tell me to pick between two important people in my life. I've never been in that position.” 

“Carlos,” you begin but he stops you again. 

“I spoke to Lando the next day, right after you texted me. I was furious with him. How could someone call their best friend those things? How could he, the same man who told me that he wanted me to stay away from you because he wanted to protect you, flip a switch that easily? He showed me the message you sent and I felt my heart break more. Asking him to put all the blame on you? Asking him to not blame me when we were both responsible? Pinning all the blame on yourself just so that he and I could still be friends?” 

You knew that Lando had read your message but knowing that he had shown Carlos that same day made his lack of response hurt ten times more. “You talked to him? He showed you the message?” 

Carlos nods his head. “I should say I yelled at him that morning rather than talked. We’ve spoken a couple times since then but I can tell he is still furious.” 

You figured, Lando wasn’t one to let go of grudges easily. “I can’t help but miss him, even with what he said to me.” 

“And that’s okay,” Carlos comforts you, “he is -was- your best friend for a long time. I wouldn’t expect you not to miss him.” 

“This is the first winter break we’ve been apart since we met. I don’t know what to do.” You admit to Carlos.

Carlos rests a hand on your thigh, rubbing small circles across the material of your sweatpants. And you look at him with tears in your eyes. You are so sick of crying over this whole situation, you've wasted enough tears. 

“I don’t know what kind of traditions the two of you have but if you'd like, I was thinking we could make our own?” Carlos questions. You look at him with wide eyes and he continues, “I don’t want to replace him or those good memories but I think making our own would be fun.” 

“I would love that Carlos.” you smile at him. “There is one thing though. If this,” you point back and forth at the both of you, “is going to be a serious relationship, we need to take it slow.” 

“How slow is slow?” 

“Why? Do you not want to take things slow?” You panic internally. Did he change his mind? 

Does he not want to take things slow? You know that his life is fast-paced so does slow just not work for him?

“No, no, no,” he hurries out sensing your panic, “Slow is fine, I’d wait a lifetime if you asked mi amor. I’m just asking because I want to kiss you.” 

“Oh.”

“Can I kiss you Hermosa?” Carlos asks in a whisper. 

You nod and Carlos closes the gap between the two of you. Unlike the last time the two of you shared a kiss this one was slower, sweeter but somehow more passionate. With closed eyes, you relished the feeling of his lips on yours even more so because you thought you would never experience this feeling again. 

Carlos pulls away after a moment and you open your eyes and glance at his swollen lips, a slight you’ll never get sick of. Overcome with emotion you launch yourself onto Carlos, pushing him on his back into the cushions of your couch. 

Shock is written all over his face, “Are you okay?” 

You shake your head, not trusting your voice and Carlos pulls you into his chest. Carlos’s hand runs over your head and after a moment of savoring the comforting gesture you speak up, 

“Thank you for coming to see me. I really thought I’d never see you again.” 

“You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

January 2022

Carlos wasn’t lying when he said that you wouldn't be able to get rid of him easily. The man was stuck on you like a popsicle on a hot summer day, not that you were complaining.

New Year’s came and went and Carlos insisted that he spend it with you. You argued that you weren’t doing anything fun, that you would probably be sleeping while everyone else was out ringing in the new year, and that he should go out and spend it with his friends. Carlos had refused, stating he rather be somewhere quiet celebrating with you. So the two of you had rang in the New Year together in your flat with a cheap bottle of champagne and poppers you set off on your balcony. 

It was only a few days later that, as you were making dinner, you got a call from Carlos. 

“Are you free this weekend?” Carlos asked as soon as you accepted the call. 

“Well, hello to you too Carlos,” you chuckle at his enthusiasm. 

“Hello mi amor, how are you this fine afternoon.” 

“I am spectacular, and how are you, Mr. Sainz?” You can’t help but break out in a smile, something you seem to do whenever you hear from Carlos.

“Good, however, I would be even better if you answered my question. Are you free this weekend?” 

“I think so, why?” 

“I want to take you out.” 

“Like on a date?” 

“Yes, like a date. I would be a bad boyfriend if I didn’t take my love on dates, wouldn’t I?” 

“Oh, I didn’t know we were officially boyfriend/girlfriend.” You tease, Carlos knew fully well how you felt about him. 

“Don’t play around with me.” 

“What were you thinking?” 

“I was thinking you’d come over to my place and I’d cook for you.” 

“Oh, I would love that but Carlos you don’t live in London.” It amuses you to have to point out that simple fact. 

“I know, that’s why I asked if you were free the entire weekend. I was going to fly you out to Madrid.” 

You freeze at his nonchalant attitude, to him this was a small little gesture and you can tell that he thinks nothing of it. You, on the other hand, were thinking way too much of it. 

“Carlos, I can't come to Madrid. I don’t have the money for it right now.” You say defeatedly, as much as you wanted to see Carlos you couldn't drop that type of money on a flight. 

“I think you missed the part where I said I would fly you out. You wouldn’t be paying for anything.” 

“Carlos, this isn’t how I want this relationship to be. I won’t be seen as a sugar baby.” You tell him seriously and all you can hear is him laughing over the phone. 

“Mi amor, you are not a sugar baby. You are my girlfriend. My girlfriend who I want to see and spend time with so desperately that I am offering her, as her boyfriend, to fly her to my home so she can spend time with me- her boyfriend.” 

You bite the skin around your nails carefully weighing your options. You want to see Carlos but on the other hand, you were worried. What if someone spots you? What if someone outed your relationship? You still wanted to take things slow and this was all moving a little fast for you. 

You voice your worries to Carlos and you hear him sigh over the phone, “You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking. I’m sorry mi amor.” 

“No, I’m sorry. I should be jumping at this opportunity. You want to spend time with me and here I am acting like a brat. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.” 

“Nothing is wrong with you. I need to respect your wishes. You have no need to apologize.” 

“I still feel bad.” 

“Don’t. There will be other opportunities.” 

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, do not worry about it. Listen I have to go, I will call you later okay?” 

“I’ll be waiting.” The two of you exchange quick goodbyes and you are then left alone with your thoughts. Saying yes wouldn’t have killed you, in fact, you should’ve said yes. So what if someone saw you and Carlos? Since when did you care what the rest of the world thought of you? 

You drop your head on the kitchen counter, lightly banging it muttering a quiet ‘stupid, stupid, stupid.’ Oh well, there was nothing you could do about it now. 

Your Friday nights always play out the same way. You get home from work, take a quick shower, put on a pair of sweatpants (you’re pretty sure these were a pair of Lando’s from years ago) and a baggy top, order something, and watch a crappy movie.

You have only finished step 3 of your routine, about to start step 4 when there is a knock at your door. You weren’t expecting anyone other than the delivery man but you hadn’t even placed your order yet, so if it was the Chinese place already you really needed to change up your diet. 

When you open your door you aren’t greeted by the greasy teenager who typically delivers your food, instead, you are greeted with a comfy-looking Carlos who has a backpack in one hand and a bag of groceries in the other. 

“Carlos, what are you doing here?” 

“Are you not happy to see me?” He questions with a slight pout. 

“Of course, I’m happy to see you,” you reach across the threshold to grab his wrist and pull him into your flat, “I’m just surprised to see you here.” 

“I’m here to spend the weekend with my girlfriend and cook her dinner,” he proudly states, holding up the bag of groceries. 

You could melt into a puddle right there and then. “Carlos, you didn’t have to come all the way here.” 

A look of panic is now written all over Carlos’s face. “I’m an idiot.” You raise an eyebrow at his admission and gesture for him to spit the rest out. “You said you wanted to take things slow and here I am showing up without notice.” 

You wave your hands frantically, “You are not an idiot. I’m happy you’re here. Ever since I turned down your offer I’ve been thinking that maybe we don’t have to take things slow.” 

“Are you sure? I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” 

“I am more than sure. I am sick of overthinking. Who cares what everyone else thinks of me?” 

Carlos’s look of panic is replaced by the biggest grin you have ever seen. He drops his backpack and groceries, his hands aren’t empty for long because the next thing you know you are being lifted in his arms and spun around. 

“Carlos!” you squeal out, not expecting to be picked up. 

Carlos sets you down gently and cups your face in his hands, you are then attacked by an onslaught of kisses. He kisses your cheeks, your lips, nose, and forehead. No part of your face is left untouched by his lips. 

You giggle at the sensation, “Carlos, Carlos,” you try to get his attention but he seems too lost in his own world. “Okay. Okay. Calm down, what has gotten into you?” 

“I’m just happy. Is that a crime?” 

You tap your chin in mock ponderance, “I suppose not.” 

Carlos closes the gap once more but this time instead of an onslaught of kisses he locks your lips with his in one long kiss. His hands haven’t moved from their spots on your cheeks this entire time. You can’t help yourself from grinning into the kiss, never in your wildest dreams would you have imagined this. 

Carlos pulls away and when he sees the smile that graces your face can’t help but ask, “What has gotten into you?” 

You giggle at his question and your reply is full of snark, “I’m just happy. Is that a crime?” 

It is Carlos’s turn to break into a fit of giggles and you wish that you could listen to that sound forever. “Okay. Okay.” You try to break the laughing spell that has fallen between the both of you. “What’s in the bag?” 

Carlos picks up the bag full of groceries and makes his way to the kitchen, “I’m glad you asked, it's all the ingredients I need to make my pancakes.” 

“You were serious about cooking for me?” 

“Of course I was, I want to spoil my girlfriend.” 

“I will gladly be spoiled. Do you want any help?” 

“No, you just sit and find a movie or a show to watch.” 

“I got the only show I need right in front of me.” You wink. 

Carlos laughs at your comment but doesn’t say anything else, too focused on making his pancakes. You have to help him a couple of times when he realizes he doesn’t exactly know the layout of where you keep all your mixing bowls, pans, and spatulas, amongst other things. But once he has all his materials you can almost see the switch flip to Chef Carlos. And while it is a bit shameful to admit, the sight does turn you on slightly. The way Carlos’s tongue slightly sticks out of his mouth in concentration. The way his arm flexes as he mixes the batter. Who would have thought that cooking would be so hot? Not you, that’s for sure. 

Carlos spares a few glances in your direction and every time you need to make sure you aren’t drooling all over your counter. Your time of ogling Carlos is cut short when he slides the plate of pancakes in front of you. 

“Any syrup or butter?” He asks. 

You shake your head, “No, I want to experience the pancakes without any interference.” You pick up your fork and knife and cut right into them. Carlos does nothing but watch as you bring a piece up to your mouth and take a bit. 

“Holy shit, you weren’t kidding about knowing a pancake recipe,” you say with a full mouth. 

“Good?” 

“Good? Better than good, these are delicious,” you practically moan out. 

“Almost as delicious as the chef,” Carlos says with a smirk. His comment has you choking on the rest of your pancake. Carlos is quick to rush to your side, gently smacking your back. 

You hold up your hands signaling for him to stop, “I’m okay, I’m okay.” You take a sip of water, helping aid the rest of the pancake down. “You need to make these for me again. I don’t think I can ever go back to eating a normal pancake ever again. Not after tasting this slice of heaven.” 

“You’ll never have to eat a sad pancake ever again as long as I’m around.” 

“I want you around as long as you can stand me,” you tell Carlos truthfully. 

“Good, because I never want to be without you.” 

You can’t help but think the same, and it isn’t because of the pancakes.

February 2022

It’s a week before Valentine's Day when you answer a FaceTime call from Carlos. 

“Did you see the car launch?” He asks. 

You have given up trying to get him to say hello every time you answered the phone, he was always too eager to talk to you. 

“I did. Looks beautiful, hopefully that corresponds to speed.” 

“We can only hope. I didn’t call to talk about the car.” 

“Well, you could’ve fooled me.” 

“You think you’re so funny, don’t you?” 

“I am funny, you know this.” 

Carlos ignores your quip and instead asks, “Valentine’s Day, do you feel okay going out?” 

Ever since that night when Carlos showed up at your flat unannounced, he has been trying to communicate better. The two of you had your little inside dates- movie nights, cooking, board games, anything the two of you could do at home or over the phone you two have done. You had only gone out on a date once and that was over as quick as it started. Some fan spotted him and it was only a matter of time before his location was leaked. You didn’t want to hide your relationship but you also didn’t want it outed by some random F1 update page. You wanted to be the one who shared it with the world. 

It took you a moment to think about it and you didn’t want to spend your first Valentine’s Day in your flat. “I would love to go out,” you tell Carlos honestly. 

“Good, I made a reservation to this place I think you’ll love.” 

You smile having the perfect idea of how to mess with him, “Well what if I said no?” 

Carlos doesn’t seem at all phased, “Then I would’ve canceled the reservation.” 

You can’t argue with that logic. “What’s the dress code? Because I take it you aren’t going to tell me where we are going.” 

“You’ll be correct about that. Dress code,” Carlos pauses for a moment, “Wear something red.” 

You roll your eyes, “You are only saying that because you like seeing me in red.” 

“It is your color mi amor.” 

“Oh so I look bad in all other colors,” you challenge. 

“What has gotten into you today? So sassy.” 

“I don’t know. Maybe it's because I miss you.” 

“I’ll see you in less than a week, mi amor.” 

“I know, I know.” You pick at your nails. “I don’t know why, I just miss you more than usual this week.” 

“I miss you too,” Carlos admits. 

You go to say something but you are interrupted by another voice. “Carlos, Carlos,” a familiar Monégasque driver calls out. “Who are you talking to?” 

“My girlfriend,” Carlos replies nonchalantly. 

“Ooohhh,” Charles calls out, and before Carlos can react Charles shoves his entire face in front 

of the camera, your screen now filled with nothing but Charles. 

There were only a handful of people who knew that you and Carlos were together, Charles being one of them. When Carlos left McLaren for Ferrari, he had spilled the beans to Charles and you had learned that Charles was the one who kept pushing Carlos to come see you. So saying you were thankful for the Monégasque driver was quite the understatement. 

You giggle at his actions. “Hi, Charles. How are you?” 

“I’m doing great, how about yourself?” 

“Same old, same old.” 

“What are you two talking about?” 

“None of your business,” Carlos answers at the same time as you say, “Discussing Valentine’s Day plans.” 

“Valentine’s Day plan? What are you two lovebirds doing?” 

“Going out,” Carlos answers for you. 

“Ooooohhhh can I come with?” Charles asks. 

You snort at his question, “Don’t you have your own girlfriend to take out instead of third-wheeling on our night?” 

Charles says nothing and just gives you a blank stare, “Fine, be that way.” 

You roll your eyes at his childishness, “Don’t be such a baby.” 

“You’re younger than me!” 

“That makes it worse!” You exclaim. 

“Charles, did you need something or did you only come in here to bother us?” 

Carlos’s question seems to snap the other Ferrari driver back in focus, “Oh. Yes actually, we aren’t free from our media duties yet.” 

“Let me say goodbye then I’ll be back out.” 

Charles wishes you a quick goodbye and you are left alone with Carlos. “You have to go?” You ask, already knowing the answer. 

“Yes.” 

“The life of a Formula 1 driver never stops.” 

“You’d be right about that Hermosa.” 

“I’ll let you go, call me if you get the chance.” 

“Of course. I’ll see you soon mi amor, don’t miss me too much.” 

“I’ll try.” 

It’s a week later on Valentine’s Day, and you had spent the majority of the day getting ready for your first real date with Carlos. But along with the butterflies in your stomach, there was also this unwelcome feeling of sadness. At first, you couldn’t place what it was but then it hit you like a truck. Lando didn’t send you any chocolates. You knew that the chances of him sending them were slim but for some reason, it really stung. Every year he sent you a box of chocolates, no matter where in the world he was, no matter what he was busy doing. And every year there was a note “You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms”, well you at least you still had your shitty rom-coms. You were excited for your date but that gloomy feeling was hard to get rid of and you knew that Carlos was bound to notice. 

“Wow,” is all that came out of Carlos’s mouth when you answered the door.

“I hope that’s a good wow,” you chuckle nervously. You had done what he asked, you were wearing red, more specifically the signature Ferrari red. While it wasn’t a hard color to match, you hoped that Carlos appreciated the sentiment. 

“Of course, mi amor. You look… amazing.” You smile at his lack of words. You don’t need him to tell you anything, you could tell what he’s thinking from his gaze alone. 

“Oh, these are for you,” Carlos hands you a bouquet of red roses and baby’s-breath along with a wrapped box of chocolates. 

“Thank you Carlos, we can share the chocolates later tonight.” You tell him as you walk back into your flat. Carlos shuts the door behind him and follows you into the kitchen as you rummage around for your good vase. 

“We’ll have to leave soon if we want to make the reservation,” Carlos says, checking his watch. 

“Alrightly, just let me grab my shoes.” You walk into your bedroom to grab your shoes. On your way you stop in front of the mirror to check your hair and make-up one last time. 

When you walk back out you notice Carlos staring at the pictures on your walls. As you move closer you can see the one in particular that he is staring at. 

“That’s when Lando and I first declared each other as best friends.” You say with a sad smile. “I don’t really remember it but I do know that we were at my house and my mom snapped the picture.” 

Carlos turned to face you but you continued to stare at the picture, jealous of how young and naive the two of you were back then. 

Carlos called your name and you were quickly snapped out of memory lane. “Are you okay?” His question laced with concern. 

You wave him off, “I’m fine.” Carlos gives you a look almost asking ‘are you sure’ and you are quick to spill your feelings of gloom. “I mean it’s silly and I knew what was going to happen.” 

“Knew what was going to happen?” 

“Every year Lando has either given or sent me a box of chocolates. At first I knew it was his mom forcing him to give them to me, but as we got older he knew that it was something that cheered me up, especially because I never got anything in school from the other boys. Then he would always include a note, ‘You’ll always have me and your shitty rom-coms’. Then I didn’t get anything this morning and I knew I wasn’t, but it makes it all more… I don’t know. Real? I guess? It’s stupid, I know I shouldn’t be complaining about not getting chocolates from another man when my insanely handsome boyfriend is standing next to me.” 

“Mi amor, I didn’t know he did that. That was sweet of him and I am sorry that he can’t grow up and accept that he isn’t in control of you. Even if he was your best friend you deserve to be loved and not be shunned for doing so.” 

You nod in agreement. Every time you feel at peace with the whole situation something like this happens and you are brought back to square one. 

“Well let’s get going. I don’t want this ass-hat to ruin anything else for us. Especially not tonight.” 

Carlos snorts at your insult and holds out his arm for you to take, you do so happily. 

Carlos was nothing but a gentleman the entire time. He opened the car door for you, pulled out and pushed in your chair, and complimented you the entire evening. Sure these were all little things but they meant the world to you. The two of you were in your own little bubble the entire night, everything was so peaceful. 

However, it wasn’t until you and Carlos got back to your flat that your little bubble of peace was popped. You were busy finishing your skincare routine when Carlos called out your name. You walked into the living room and were met with the most domestic sight: Carlos sitting on your couch in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt scrolling through his phone. The sight brought a smile to your lips. 

“You called?” You asked, making your way over to the couch. 

As you take a seat next to Carlos, he hands you his phone and you are greeted with the familiar sight of Twitter. It takes you a second to make out the picture, the two figures in it are quite blurry but as soon as you read the caption attached to it your smile drops into a frown. 

‘New WAG alert? Carlos Sainz was seen looking comfortable with a mystery woman at a candle-lit dinner this Valentine’s Day. Will we be seeing more of her?

“Oh.” You aren’t surprised by the lack of privacy and you are well aware that this was bound to happen eventually, you just didn’t think that it would be the first time the two of you went out publicly. 

Carlos raises an eyebrow, seeming to have expected more than a one-worded response to the tweet he just showed you and you can’t help but shrug your shoulders in response. 

“You’re not upset,” he asks. 

“I mean a little, but it's not like I can do anything about it. We knew the risks before we went out and we were willing to take them. Are you upset?” 

“I am used to it,” Carlos admits, “It happens to me all the time, I just wished I was given the decency to go out with my girlfriend and have a nice private dinner.” 

You cuddle up into Carlos’s side and he is quick to abandon his phone and wrap his arms around you. “I don’t want anything to spoil this evening,” you tell Carlos, “so as long as those are the only pictures out there let's ignore them for now.” 

“I can do that. Now what movie do you want to watch?” 

“How about 10 Things I Hate About You?” 

March 2022

The beginning of the 2022 season was right around the corner and every time you and Carlos talked he was always trying to sneak in a comment about you coming to Bahrain. He thought he was being so subtle with his comments that the look on his face when you asked him if he wanted you to come with him was priceless. 

“I thought I was being subtle.” You can hear his frown through the phone. 

You try to contain your laughter but the task is easier said than done, “Baby, you were as subtle as a bull in a china shop.” 

“But will you?” 

Ever since he first started hinting around, you weighed the pros and cons. You loved watching the races, you would be able to spend time with Carlos, you would be exploring a new country. All of these things were nice, but when you thought about the cons, they paled in comparison. If you went to Bahrain then your relationship with Carlos was definitely going to become public knowledge, and while that wasn’t a bad thing you weren’t completely sure if you were ready for the entire world of fangirls to also be a part of your relationship. There was one other thing that was making you hesitate- the idea that you would probably run into Lando. 

You couldn’t let that stop you though, so without putting any more negative thought into it, you told Carlos that you would love to go to Bahrain with him. 

Walking through the paddock in Ferrari gear felt wrong but right at the same time. Carlos had insisted on providing you with all the possible merch you could imagine. The number 55 displayed proudly across your back, a Ferrari cap snug tightly around your head, a pair of Ferrari sunglasses Carlos had loaned you, and to your surprise a pair of Ferrari socks. You had nearly laughed when you took them out of your little handmade care package, you didn’t even know that Ferrari had socks it wasn’t like anyone was going to see them anyways. 

You were hesitant to wear it at first. Most of the other WAGs never wore team gear and when they did it certainly wasn’t to this extent, however, Carlos had put your mind at ease. He did love seeing you in red. 

You were well aware of all the cameras and more aware of all the people. Carlos had given you a clear set of directions on where to go and who to ask for so that you would be escorted to Ferrari hospitality without any complications. However, you had guessed Carlos had scrapped that plan and failed to tell you. Because standing right by the entrance to Ferrari hospitality was none other than Carlos himself. 

“Find everything okay?” He asked as you reached him. 

“I did, but this wasn’t a part of the plan.” 

“Well, I had time and saw your message. I wanted to be the first to greet you.” He leans in and kisses your cheek. 

“It’s a welcomed surprise.” 

“Come,” Carlos grabs your hand and interlocks it with his, “I want to give you the grand tour.” 

Carlos drags you around introducing you to everyone and you can’t help but feel extremely welcomed in your first -official- introduction into the world of Ferrari. Monaco might’ve been the first time but this experience was a much fonder one. 

Carlos spends as much time as he can with you, doing his best to make sure you felt welcomed. Eventually, he is forced to do his job and you watch the free practice in the comfort of Ferrari hospitality. 

Ever since Valentine’s Day you have avoided social media. Even when you were friends with Lando you never really interacted much with F1 Twitter and even less so now that the two of you weren’t talking. However, due to it being the beginning of the season F1 the sport was trending and out of pure boredom, you decided to brave the tweets. Most of them were predictions about the year, fans cheering on their faves, and even thirst tweets of seeing the drivers back in their cars once again. And who could forget the beloved gossip and update pages? Certainly not you, considering you were looking at your own face on one of the pages. 

You weren’t foolish enough to think that you were going to go undetected with Carlos, you were fully expecting it. That however did not lower the shock of seeing yourself on one of these pages. The tweet itself didn’t have many likes or retweets but it wasn’t the only one out there talking about you. And it wasn’t before long until you saw one captioning ‘Carlos Sainz and Lando Norris’s BFF spotted together entering the Ferrari garage’ and below it was a picture of you and Carlos hand in hand. That wasn’t what made your stomach flip, it was what was underneath the photo. Speculation as to why you didn’t have your yearly appearance on Lando’s Instagram. 

Of course they were right, there was no need to speculate when that is exactly the reason why, not that you were going to confirm their beliefs. You would have to tell Carlos about all of this on the way back to the hotel. No need to worry him when he should be focusing on the car and the season ahead of him.

The two of you are lying on the bed in your shared hotel room watching some random movie that just happened to be playing when you turned on the TV while waiting for room service. You were snuggled into Carlos’s side, your hand resting on his chest. Carlos has one arm under your head, the other is scrolling through his phone. 

When you told him about what you saw on Twitter that afternoon he simply shrugged and said “Let them think whatever they want to think. It’s our relationship, not theirs. We don’t owe anyone anything.” 

You still had your concerns that Lando might do something but Carlos insisted while he was dumb, he wasn’t that dumb. But if he was to open his big mouth McLaren and Ferrari’s PR team could handle it. This was nothing to worry about. 

You’re half paying attention to the movie and half paying attention to the occasional funny tweet or whatever Carlos is showing you. A knock at the door causes you to shoot out of Carlos’s arms. “I’ll get it!” You call out to Carlos, excited to eat some real sustenance. 

You don’t even bother looking through the peephole before whipping open the door, a rookie mistake. Because who stands in front of you is not the room service delivery person with their little cart, no, the person standing in front of you is your ex-best friend. 

“Lando?” you ask in shock. 

“So I see what’s going around Twitter is true then?” 

You cross your arms over your chest, “Excuse you?” 

“I just had to see it for myself,” Lando sneers. 

Before you can respond Carlos comes up behind you. He’d gotten out of bed at the sound of 

Lando’s voice. “What are you doing here?” Carlos questions. 

“Oh I just saw some update and WAG pages saying that my best friend was spotted with no one other than the Carlos Sainz and I figured I would come see it with my own two eyes.” 

“We aren’t best friends anymore. Remember you told me I was throwing 15 years of friendship away?” You snap back. 

“You need to go,” Carlos gently guides you away from the door so that you are now standing behind him. You aren’t going to argue with that. All you wanted was to spend the night with your boyfriend eating room service while watching a crappy movie. You didn’t want to see Lando, let alone have this conversation. 

“Is this room 512?” Of course, now the room service shows up. 

“Yes,” Carlos answers. The gentleman looks between Carlos and Lando, “Don’t worry about him, he was just leaving.”

You peer around Carlos in time to see Lando stomp off down the hallway back to his own room. The room attendant drops the food off and leaves in a hurry, not that you blame him. 

You make your way back to the bed and curl in on yourself, Carlos is quick to follow. “I’m not hungry anymore,” your voice is muffled by one of the pillows. You feel the side of the bed dip behind you as Carlos sits to comfort you. 

“I can’t believe he showed up here. What is his problem? Do you want me to go talk to him?” 

The idea of Carlos talking to Lando nearly makes you throw up. “No, don’t bother. It’s not worth it.” 

“No,” Carlos says harshly, “He comes here, spews a bunch of bullshit and he thinks he can get away with it.” You roll yourself over so you can now look at Carlos. You’ve never seen him so mad, sure you saw him pissed off and frustrated at Monza a few years back but this, this was a whole different type of anger. 

“Carlos, as much as I would love for you to give him a piece of your mind, it’s not going to do anything. To him we're the bad guys, no matter how we try to explain ourselves. I’ve made peace with the fact that this is who he is. I think as long as this stays between the three of us and off the track it's best that we just leave it.” 

“That still doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he feels like it and start shit.” 

“I know, but you’ve said it yourself- he’s childish.” You can see the fight and anger leave Carlos’s body. “Besides, I want all your focus to go into the race. I only kiss boyfriends who end up on the podium.” 

“Is that so?” Carlos questions with a sly grin. 

Well, it seemed that you owed Carlos a kiss. A Ferrari P1-P2 finish at the first race of the season was a sight to see. The entire garage was in a frenzy as all of them rushed to watch the podium ceremony. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with yourself. You wanted to go watch the ceremony in person but you weren’t sure if that was acceptable, seeing as the rest of the team was more deserving and you were only, well, yourself. 

“What are you doing? Let's go! Carlos will want to see you!” James, one of the mechanics that Carlos had introduced you to early in the weekend had seen you standing off to the side looking confused as to where you should go. 

“Are you sure?” You asked as he weaved you around his co-workers. 

“I’m sure of it! Besides, don’t you want to see your boyfriend up on the podium?” 

You really did want to see Carlos on that podium and it definitely had nothing to do with seeing his skin shine with sweat and champagne, nothing at all. 

The entire atmosphere was addicting- the fireworks, the roar of applause, the cheering from the team, it was all so addicting and the grin on Carlos’s face was worth being squished in between multiple sweaty bodies. 

You could pinpoint the exact moment that Carlos saw you in the crowd and if you thought he was happy before you would consider him ecstatic. After the ceremony, Carlos was quick to make his way down to where you and the rest of his team stood. 

Your congratulations died on your lips when Carlos crashed his into yours. Although surprised, you waste no time grabbing the nape of his neck and bringing him closer to you. His skin is sticky with sweat and champagne, not that you mind. His lips are sweet and you can’t help but savor the flavor. 

He pulls away and you can’t help but ask, “What was that for?” 

“You said you only give kisses to boyfriends who get podiums. I was just collecting my award.” 

You roll your eyes, “I’ll kiss you no matter where you end up.” 

“Good.” Is all he says before capturing your lips in another kiss. You were well aware of the cameras, the people and their cheers when Carlos kissed you. You could feel the heat rise into your cheeks but you didn’t care. How could you when you had Carlos kissing you? Tomorrow 

might be a different story but for now, you were truly living in the moment. 

Silverstone 2022

Nearly 4 months had passed since Carlos had kissed you after his podium finish in Bahrain. And it's been nearly 4 months since every social media platform of yours has blown up. It was almost scary how fast your follower count went up. You tried not to look at the comments but your curiosity had gotten to you. While the majority were sweet, there were always those who hated other people's happiness. 

It really didn’t bother you, well most of the comments anyways. The ones that cut the deepest were the ones that asked about Lando- Where’s Lando? I wonder what Lando thinks about this? Oh, so you're the reason we don’t have Carlando anymore. She was only using Lando the entire time, I guess the friendship paid off. 

Carlos had called you when first brought them up, that conversation was a rough one. He had suggested deleting social media for a time and you had argued back that they really didn’t bother you. You knew that Carlos was concerned for you, it was sweet. But like any 20-something-year old you were addicted to your phone and social media. Carlos had then suggested making a private account, something only your close friends and family could view, that way you could continue your life as an iPad kid. 

Silverstone was the second race that you were able to attend of the season. Carlos understood that you couldn’t drop everything and travel the world with him, no matter how much the both of you wished you could. But it nearly broke your heart to tell him that you weren’t able to make it to the Spanish Grand Prix. He told you it was okay but you could still hear the sadness in his voice. 

You always sent him a text after every race, no matter the result, and if the timezone allowed you would try and call him. So when your time off got approved for the entire week at Silverstone you couldn’t be happier. 

So here you were, your third time at the Silverstone circuit, however, it was your first time being here and not being in the McLaren garage. You felt more comfortable in your Ferrari getup the second time around. 

You had high hopes for Carlos during qualifying, the free practice sessions seemed promising. And your hopes were fulfilled when Carlos got pole position for the 2022 Silverstone Grand Prix.

Your emotions were amped up a hundred times the next day when the checkered flag was waved and Carlos crossed the finish line in P1. Emotions were high in the Ferrari garage and you weren’t excluded in feeling them. Carlos had just achieved his first-ever Formula 1 win at Silverstone. Everything seemed to move in a blur, you were whipped away to see Carlos. You didn’t care how sweaty he was, how his hair was sticking out in a hundred different directions, or the indents of his helmet on his cheeks. None of that mattered, all you cared about was Carlos. Celebrations didn’t cease after the podium ceremony. Of course, Carlos was whisked away for a few post-race interviews but everyone was preparing for the night ahead. 

You don’t remember the name of the club that you were dragged to and frankly, it didn’t matter. The atmosphere was buzzing, the music was so loud you could feel it in your chest, and the floor was so sticky that you could feel your shoes almost slip off with every step. But you could barely think about any of that when Carlos’s hands were currently around your hips and the two of you were dancing, not very PG-ly, in the middle of the club. 

Carlos was handsy when tipsy, you knew that much. His hands were constantly moving up and down your sides, to your hips, to your arms, and even to your neck every time he decided it was time for another kiss. 

“Do you need another drink?” Carlos shouts over the music. 

You glance down at the empty cup in your hand, “Yes please!” 

Carlos grabs your hand and drags you away from the dance floor and towards the bar. You bump into a couple people and while it is bound to happen you can’t stop the quick ‘sorry’s’ that slip through your mouth. No one seems to pay any attention to you basically stepping on their toes, all too wasted to really care. 

You stand next to Carlos as he tries to get the bartender's attention. You don’t mind waiting, it’s busy and the poor bartenders are slammed. However, you do mind when someone bumps into you so roughly that you are rammed into the bar counter. 

“Sorry!” The person exclaims and you are quick to turn around to see who the hell just ran into you. 

The universe must really have it out for you because the voice belonged to none other than Lando Norris, who else? The two of you lock eyes but say nothing. It’s only when Carlos turns around with your drink that Lando lets out a scoff. 

“Congratulations Carlos,” Lando says. You don’t have to be a genius to tell that Lando isn’t being genuine.

“Thank you,” Carlos replies dryly. 

“That was quite a performance at the podium ceremony,” Lando’s attention is now fully on you, “I never did quite take you for a slut but guess I was wrong.” 

Your jaw drops and you are left speechless. Never in a million years did you think that the boy you grew up with would call you such a vile name. Tears well in your eyes, is this truly what he thinks of you? 

Carlos slams the drinks on the counter and you can feel the anger roll off of him in waves. “What did you just say?” Carlos growls. 

Lando looks taken aback by Carlos’s reaction and you can almost see a flicker of regret flash across his features, however, he doesn’t change his stance reply with a cold, “You heard me.” 

“I have had it with your glorified temper tantrums. You need to grow up and get over yourself.” Carlos doesn’t allow Lando to get another word out, he grabs your hand and pulls you away from the bar. 

Once the two of you are outside Carlos is pulling you into a tight hug. “Don’t listen to him. He’s drunk and an asshole.” 

Carlos's words don’t do anything to stop the tears from falling. Sobs rack your body and Carlos can only hold you tighter. Rationally thinking, why did it matter what Lando thought? He wasn’t a part of your relationship. Emotionally thinking, on the other hand, Lando was your best friend for 15 years. The two of you went through almost every milestone together and yet he still called you a slut. It didn’t matter if he was drunk or not. 

“Let's go back to the hotel,” Carlos says softly. 

You can only nod. You can’t help but feel bad for Carlos, tonight was supposed to be his night. The two of you were supposed to celebrate his win but here you were crying and getting snot all over his shirt. 

You had nearly passed out the moment you and Carlos got back to your shared hotel room. The excitement of the day along with the tears had proven all too much. Cuddled up next to Carlos you couldn’t help but feel the need to apologize. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Why are you apologizing, Hermosa?” 

“Tonight was supposed to be all about you. We were supposed to have a fun night celebrating and I ruined it.”

“No. The only person who ruined it was Lando. He had no right to say anything.” 

“But-” 

“I don’t want to hear you apologizing for something that wasn’t your fault. You did nothing.” 

“But my reaction-” 

“Was a normal reaction to the situation. If he ever says or does anything like that again I won’t hesitate to punch him.” 

“Carlos!” you exclaim, “You can’t just do that.” 

“Consequences be damned.” 

“Carlos,” you say in a warning tone. He says nothing and you shake your head in annoyance. 

“We can celebrate properly later, when do you need to be in Austria?” 

“In three days, I think.” 

“Oh, well when we go back to my flat we can do something before you leave?” 

“Sounds perfect mi amor.” Carlos presses a kiss to your temple. 

When you talked about celebrating with Carlos at your flat you meant maybe have a few drinks, go out for a nice dinner, or maybe even watch a movie. What you didn’t imagine was straddling Carlos on your couch. 

One of your hands was wrapped around Carlos’s neck and the other was tangled in his hair as his lips left warm, wet kisses along your neck. His hands were spread across your back, holding you in place to make sure you didn’t fall backwards off the couch. 

“Carlos,” you whine out. The slight scratch of his facial hair mixed with the feeling of his lips were driving you crazy. You were definitely going to need to use some concealer and foundation 

on your neck when you got ready tomorrow morning. 

Carlos, hearing your whine, had only responded with a “I know Hermosa.” 

His hands then found their way to your waist and moved you off of his lap so that your back was now resting against the cushions while he hovered over you. His hands dance along the hem of your shirt and you savor the warmth of his palms. 

Carlos nearly has your shirt off of your body when there is a knock at the door. The two of you look at the door and then back at each other and Carlos brings a finger to his lips, signaling for you to be quiet. You nod in understanding, hoping that whoever is at the door goes away soon. 

The knocking continues and Carlos moves off of you and to the front door. You sigh and sit up, fixing your shirt in the process. You hope whoever is at the front door has a good enough reason for interrupting your and Carlos’s celebration. 

“What the hell are you doing here?” You hear Carlos question whoever is at the door. 

“Carlos,” you call out, getting up from the couch to make your way out of the living room to see what the commotion is. “Who’s at the door?” 

You don’t need Carlos to answer the question because as soon as you are close enough you see a sheepish-looking Lando who is holding a bouquet of flowers. 

“Lando, what are you doing here?” You cross your arms over your chest. 

“I came to apologize for my behavior last night.” 

Carlos scoffs, “Just last night? You should be apologizing for a lot more than that.” 

Lando looks down defeatedly, “You’re right. I should have never acted the way I did. The truth is I was worried about losing my best friend. I’ve always cared about you and I always will care about you.” 

It was your turn to scoff, “You didn’t seem to care about me that night in Monaco when you told me I was throwing away 15 years of friendship. You didn’t care when I pleaded with you to understand my feelings. You didn’t care when you basically told me to choose you or Carlos. You say you were worried about losing your ‘best friend,’ but if you were so worried, how come I couldn’t even get a response from you that morning I texted you apologizing for all of it?” 

“But I’m here now.” 

“That doesn’t matter. I don’t need a half-assed apology. Especially after that night in Bahrain and especially after what you called me last night.” 

“What made you think that showing up here, unannounced, was going to do anything?” Carlos asks. 

Lando now turns his attention to Carlos, “I wasn’t talking to you. I am here to apologize to her, not you. This isn’t any of your business.” Lando snaps. 

Lando has always been a bit of an idiot and clearly, that hasn’t changed in the past year. You rub your eyes. You can feel the stress headache starting to form already. 

“Not any of my business,” Carlos repeats, “Are you kidding me? You say it’s none of my business but I think calling my girlfriend a slut is my business. You might be too childish to see it but I care about her. I listen to her when she talks about you and your friendship, when she talks about how she has supported you for all these years, and when she misses you. I won’t have you messing around with her feelings.” 

“Lando,” you say gently, “You will always have a special place in my heart. I just can’t get those nasty words that you told me out of my head. It’s one thing to call me a bad friend but calling me a slut? For what? Finding someone I care about, someone who makes me happy? I can’t accept your apology, at least not right now. Maybe someday we’ll be able to be friends again but I think it's time that we admit that we will never have what we once did.” 

Lando looks as if he is about to cry and while you feel bad you have to maintain your stance. You can’t have someone like this in your life, it’ll only make it harder. 

“I get it,” Lando says, “Just know that I truly am sorry for the way I’ve acted. I hope the two of you are happy, I mean it.” 

“Thank you, Lando. I wish you the best."

Lando walks away, head hung in shame. Carlos closes the door softly and just like that the hope you held for you and Lando’s friendship dies out. Maybe it’s for the better, maybe one day the two of you can be friends again. But for now, you’ll focus on the present. You might’ve closed the door on Lando but you have never been happier opening the one for Carlos.

A/N: I just wanted to say again thank you so much for all the support on part one. I was not expecting this to become a 20k+ fic in it's entirety. I was also unsure the entire time whether or not to make Lando and the Reader friends again, so hopefully this is open ended enough for you to decide.

Also please don't forget to like, comment, or reblog. It seriously means the world to me <3

taglist- crossed out names mean I couldn't tag you!

@arieslost @darleneslane @khaylin27 @softieekayy @avengersheart @formula1mount @2pagenumb @sunny44 @sugarvibez @daniiworld @customsbyjcg-blog @tpwkstiles @nickxcorpse @it2002 @lewisroscoelove @hangmandruigandmav @nando55 @dakotaspidercry-blog @generousdreamerdream @arrow92olicity @brubyubi @justkalcpxia @slaygirlbossworld @homosexualjohnwayne @val-writes @seokjinkismet @dintriann @gonehopelessgirl @joejoebitch @fannylessfaye @louiselovekill @spiderscherry @megaimpaladestiel

[archivequinn]

MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

Summary: Three years after his disappearance, Eddie Munson is arrested for the murders of Chrissy Cunningham, Fred Benson, Patrick McKinney and others, but the truth is very different. Unable to convince anyone that Vecna exists and that he is innocent, he is locked up in an asylum. But the only way out is to prove to his psychiatrist that he is not insane. If he fails to convince the psychiatrist, he will be executed as a murderer. He must hurry to do so, because Vecna has returned to finish the bloody unfinished business and take revenge.

Warnings: Blood and Injury, Mentions of execution, Execution, Death, Mental Health Issues, Asylum, Mental Hospital, Horror, Psychological Horror, Survival Horror, Thriller, Claustrophobia, Prison, Doctor/Patient, Serial Killers, Hospitals, Pain, Depression, Violence, Blood and Violence, Suicidal Thoughts, death of a family member, Nudity, Smut, Sex, Slow Burn, Experiments, TraumaPost-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Disorders, Smoking.

Before you read:)

This fan fiction is inspired by American Horror Story: Asylum. It contains a lot of horror and thriller content. Since the story takes place in a mental hospital, there may be various triggers. Please check the tags first as there is a lot of violence, sexuality and depression contents. This story is for adults, so close the page if you are a minor.

Please let me know if there are any tags I forgot to add. ao3 link

Violet was waiting for Eddie in the common room. When the door opened, Brendon walked in first then Eddie came in. Eddie looked around with curious eyes and smiled when he saw Violet. She gave him an almost similarly warm smile as Eddie approached the table and sat down across from her. Violet looked around carefully to make sure no one was looking at them, then put her hands in her pockets and smiled. “I brought something for you.”

Eddie's eyes lit up. “Did you bring my walkman?” he asked, excitedly.

Violet gave him a slightly bitter smile. “No, but I think you'll like it anyway.”

She took a small chocolate bar out of her pocket, put it between her hands and handed it to Eddie. Eddie's eyes were brighter than ever. He looked around and surreptitiously took the chocolate from Violet's hand.

“Oh, my God! Violet... I don't know what to say. Thank you so much.”

He put it in his mouth and ate the whole chocolate bar in one bite. “It was the best thing I've eaten in days. In fact, it was the��only thing I've eaten that looked like food for days. You'll go to heaven for this.”

It warmed Violet's heart to see Eddie happy. She wondered what it would be like if they had met in a world where he wasn't insane . Eddie liked the music Violet liked, he was always quoting Lord of the Rings . He even said that he played the guitar very well and claimed to have given the best concert in the world. A small note: This concert happened in an upside-down world.

She couldn't believe that Eddie had committed all these murders. Because Eddie seemed so smart and sane.

But there was a truth. Real psychopaths always know how to manipulate you. And most of them are very intelligent. When people think of a “psychopath”, they think of someone who walks around with an axe and terrorizes people, but this is only partly true. Most of the most famous serial killers are college graduates and well-placed.

But when Violet looked into Eddie's eyes, she saw nothing that made him dangerous. Eddie's gaze was different.

Violet looked at Eddie and thought, I promised him I would find out who reported him, and he would tell me what he had learned about this hospital. I was only coming here to talk to him, but he lives here. He had more information than me. And I need that information.

Some time ago, Robert the Prosecutor had moved into the guest house building where Violet was staying because he wanted to know as soon as possible what decision Violet would make. The guest building was very close to the main hospital building, three to five minutes on foot. That's why doctors and other hospital staff, who usually lived far away, sometimes used the rooms there. 

As much as Robert staying there had annoyed Violet at first, now it was up to her to turn it into an opportunity. Robert had a business briefcase that he always carried with him, in which he kept all the files on this case. The first day Violet had come to the hospital, when he had bribed her to give him Eddie's verdict right away, Violet had realized that everything was in that briefcase. If she could get to that bag and the files, she could find out who had reported Eddie, the name was there somewhere. The only problem was how to get to the briefcase.

Violet turned to Eddie and asked gently, “What day is it?”

She asked this question every time they met, because she wanted to make sure Eddie hadn't lost his sense of time and space. Eddie leaned his elbows on the table and rested his head in his hands. He licked his lips and smiled.

“It's Wednesday.”

A smile appeared on his face, but it was quickly wiped away. “Violet, can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” Violet said, nodding her head.

Eddie took a deep breath and said, “What's your favorite music? I mean, something that when you listen to it, you say, 'This song was written for me.' ”

Such a question was unexpected for Violet. She thought for a while. “I think it's Dream On, ” she said. “Why do you ask?”

Eddie smiled. “Uh, well. I’m just curious.”

There was silence for a while. Then Eddie whispered, “I hope I never have to use it.”

After a few seconds of silence, Violet decided to go back to her routine questions. Time passed so fast when she was talking to him that sometimes she lost track of time. When their therapy session was over, Violet stood up and held out her hand. 

Eddie shook it and gave her a wicked smile. “I think that's as close as I'm going to get to a woman during my stay here,” he said, unable to contain his laughter.

Violet could imagine that her face was as red as a tomato from blushing. She turned away, holding herself back from laughing. 

When she walked out the hospital door and breathed in the gloomy air, she thought, “Jesus, Eddie, I hope you're crazy. Please be crazy. Because if you're not, you're going to die.”

As she entered the building she was staying in and started to go up the stairs, she stopped in front of Robert's room. Suddenly she had an idea and she rang the doorbell. 

Robert opened the door without making any sense. It wasn't hard to guess that he wasn't expecting to see Violet.

“Violet... What are you doing here?” he said, with surprise in his eyes.

“I came to talk to you about what position I want to rise to,” Violet replied, placing a smile on her face that she thought was impressive.

Robert leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms skeptically. He was so tall that Violet had to look up when he spoke to her.

“The last time this came up, you said I was garbage and that you felt sorry for people like me. What changed your mind?”

Violet smiled, raising her hand in the air as if chasing imaginary dust. “I think after my conversations with Eddie Munson, I'm more and more convinced that he's not crazy. He could really be a brutal killer and he could be pretending to be crazy. So in that case I want to know what I stand to gain if I write a report saying that he is not crazy. If I hear what I want, maybe the paper you want will be on your desk tomorrow.”

The satisfied smile spread across Robert's face in a way he couldn't hide, maybe he didn't want to hide it. He stepped aside and motioned for Violet to come in. 

When Violet came in, all she had to do was find that file. She was sure she could do it. She had to . Because she was risking her career and even her own life for Eddie. She didn't know why she was doing it. But she felt like she must.

In the evening, Eddie was laying in his cell, staring at the ceiling, wondering how the time had passed. He had no choice anyway, there were so limited things to do here.

Suddenly there was the sound of the door creaking. He looked up to see John standing in the doorway and gesturing with his head for him to come in with him.

They walked together to the main hallway. He grabbed John's arm, pulled him a little and leaned into his ear. “How are we going to get upstairs with all these guards here?” 

John put a finger to his lips, signaling him to be quiet. Thank God, this man always had a plan. He walked over to a huge patient standing in front of him. He went over and whispered something in the patient’s ear and patted him on the shoulder. Then he came back to Eddie, leaned against the stair railing and smiled. “Now watch,” he said.

The effect of what John whispered in his ear was immediate: The patient became enraged and suddenly attacked the nurse. Other nurses and guards rushed to the area, trying to pull the patient back. Other patients were screaming and running away, trying to find shelter in panic. Some acted as if nothing had happened and walked away, or continued to live in their own imaginary world.

John nudged Eddie with a tap on the shoulder. “Come on, hurry up, let's go now.”

As they hurried up the stairs, Eddie asked curiously, “What did you say to him?”

John chuckled and said laughing, “I just told him that nurse called him a chicken, he hates that word.”

Eddie and John hurried into the manager's office and closed the door. While John was checking the door, Eddie rushed to the phone on the desk. He started dialing the number and held the receiver to his ear.

“Hello?”

When he heard Steve's voice, Eddie felt something he hadn't felt in a long time: safety . Without wasting any more time, he quickly got to the point. “Steve, I don't have much time. I need you to come and pick me up tomorrow night. Meet me a few kilometers from the back door of the hospital around eight or nine o'clock at night. Okay? It's very important.”

Steve's voice was full of both surprise and concern, “Eddie? What are you talking about? How and where are you calling me? Listen, I need to tell you something very important.”

Eddie, keeping the conversation short, said, “I'll tell you everything, but I have to get out of here now. Will you come? Please tell me you're coming. My life is on the line.”

Steve took a deep breath on the phone. “Okay, I'll come, but listen to me - there's something you need to know -”

John suddenly gestured for Eddie to stop talking. Eddie hung up the phone without letting Steve finish his sentence.

They heard someone's footsteps approaching, John rushed over and they ducked under the table and hid. There was the sound of the door opening and Eddie gasped and used his hand to cover his mouth. The person who had entered the room took a few steps and then stopped. A few seconds later there were more footsteps and the door closed again.

Eddie finally let go of the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding for how many minutes. He took a deep breath and stood up, but his head was spinning and he grabbed one of the shelves on the side for balance. A few files fell to the floor with the impact of his hand.

John quickly bent down to pick them up. “Wait a minute...” he said. He waved the file in his hand and showed it to Eddie. “Do you know what this is, Eddie?”

Eddie shook his head negatively.

“This is our ticket out of here,” John continued. “When they arrested me, all the evidence I found was left in my car. I was hoping maybe they'd find it and come and get me out of here. I've been waiting all this time for them to come and save me. But these files have been here all along, the bastards have been holding on to them all this time. Of course they did... what was I thinking?”

“But isn't this Manager Wilson's office?” Eddie asked in surprise.

John nodded his head in agreement and replied, “He's in on it. What do you think, Eddie? A doctor in his hospital is going to riddle his patients full of holes and inject who knows what into their bodies and the manager doesn't know about it? You're so clueless.”

What John said was true. Eddie scratched his head in thought and whispered, “You're right,” as he looked at the file in John's hand.

John continued to shake the file. “We need to keep this until tomorrow. After we escape from here tomorrow night, we can use it to shut this place down for good. Arthur will get the death row he deserves. And you and me, man - we'll be found innocent.’’

Eddie was silent for a moment, then looked at John and spoke. “John... Maybe I shouldn't come. No one would notice if you ran away, but the whole world knows me. They'll come after us. You can clear yourself, but when they catch me, they'll either bring me back here or buy me a one-way ticket to the death chair.”

John put a hand on Eddie's shoulder and said, “Let's get out of here first. We'll prove you're innocent too. I know that, Eddie.”

Eddie frowned and said, “You may know that. I know that too. But there's only one person who can prove my innocence, and she's been in a coma for three years. Even if she wakes up, it's impossible for her to remember what happened. Every day she doesn't wake up, she loses brain functions. The doctors say it will be a miracle if she can even remember her own name.”

John looked at Eddie with determination on his face and said, “I'll never let them kill you, Eddie. You're my only friend.''

For a moment Eddie did nothing but nod his head and smile. 

They hurried back to their cell, without being seen by anyone, Eddie hiding the file in the cover of his pillow. But it wasn't long before a siren sounded. It was so loud that Eddie had to cover his ears with his hands. When the electric doors all opened automatically, the whole corridor was flooded with lights, the sounds from the patients' cells mingling together. Eddie nervously stepped out into the corridor. All the other patients were doing the same. When John, who was in the cell two doors down from Eddie, came out, he looked at him from where he was. Something was clearly wrong. 

Manager Wilson and the guards behind him were walking briskly. One by one, the guards were going into the rooms, forcing out the patients who wouldn't come out of their rooms and putting them in line down the corridor. Each one was looking for something inside the cells.

Manager Wilson shouted, “There have been little thieves in my room. Pray that what they stole doesn't come out of one of your rooms.''

Dr. Arthur was there too. He pointed to Eddie and said, “Look in his cell.''

Two guards ran into Eddie's room. Eddie was shaking but he was trying to stay calm, he kept making eye contact with John - John was no different. He was scared too.

When the guard came out with the file, he said, “I think we found the thief,” and smiled slyly. 

“Get him,” Manager Wilson ordered, breathing angrily.

The guards grabbed Eddie's hands roughly, clasped them behind his back and began handcuffing him. When Eddie tried to break free, he was kicked in the stomach. 

As the guards started dragging him down the corridor, he barely looked up and looked at John, who was trying to get past the guards to get to Eddie, shouting, “Stop! He didn't do it! It was me! I stole them and I put them in Eddie's room so it wouldn't be found on me.''

Dr. Arthur nodded his head in satisfaction, as if he had expected this, and gestured to John, “Take this partner in crime to my operating room.’’ Then he turned to Eddie and said, “And this one, take him to the electroshock room.’’

Eddie's eyes widened in horror. 'Me?' he thought, 'God, help me,' he pleaded inwardly. But the God who could help him had long since left this hospital.

Eddie was struggling, four people were trying to hold him still on the bed and they could hardly contain him. “Let me go! You won't get away with this!” but no one paid any attention to him.

On the bed were leather handcuffs used to bind his hands and feet. The nurses tied Eddie's hands and feet and squeezed them tight. He struggled, but he couldn't move. He began to watch the ceiling. The light from the fluorescent lamps blinded him. Dr. Arthur walked slowly to the head of the bed and looked at Eddie. Eddie could see him backwards, he couldn't hold back his tears.

Eddie said desperately, “Please let me go. I won't tell anyone what I saw. I swear I won't tell anyone,” he begged. Dr. Arthur put something gel-like on a wooden stick and began to rub it on Eddie's temples.

“We need to make sure you don't tell anyone, son,” he said, bringing his face closer to Eddie's. Then he gestured to the nurse and told them to hook up what looked like headphones to the machine next to him. But the machine had two iron balls the size of tennis balls where they were supposed to go in the ears. They placed them on Eddie's temples.

“I beg you,” Eddie moaned, ”please don't do this.''

But Dr. Arthur didn't seem to care, he shoved a cloth like a piece of tissue into Eddie's mouth and said, “You'd better bite down on this, Munson.''

Eddie's tears flowed and mingled with his hair. He closed his eyes tightly one last time, the last thing he saw before he closed them was the light from the fluorescent lamp on the ceiling.

“Let's start with 30 volts,” Arthur said, taking a deep breath.

Violet put her coffee mug under the sink and turned on the water, she had a rough night.

Prosecutor Robert Hills was a smarter man than she thought. But he had his weaknesses. He loved winning and couldn't stand losing. He would do anything, even sell his soul, to get the “Eddie is not crazy report” he wanted from Violet. Violet had to have a long talk with him during the night. 

Robert Hills didn't trust her at all, just as Violet didn't trust him. 

Violet had asked him to show her the photos of the victims again. He had laid everything in his big brown bag on the coffee table in the center. All the files from the case were on the coffee table at that moment. Robert had even told her a few statements and details that had not been released to the public. This man really believed that Eddie wasn't crazy and that he was a murderer. 

''First it starts with nightmares. He shows you your greatest fear. You think it's a simple nightmare, so you don't dwell on it. Then you start to see it when you're awake. As your death approaches, Vecna starts to show himself. He wants you to join him. Your soul will give him strength. That's why your greatest traumas feed him.''

That's what Eddie said in his statement. As she read the file in her hand, she couldn't understand how Robert could know all this crap and still insist that Eddie wasn't crazy. According to him, Eddie was a fraud and he was making it all up to avoid the execution. Later that long night she asked him to make her some coffee. 

And while he was doing that, she found out what Eddie had asked her to do. She found out who had reported him . She was so excited she didn't even sleep until the morning. 

As soon as she woke up in the morning, she came to the hospital with great excitement. She wanted to talk to Eddie as soon as possible.

She walked down the grand hallway to the common room, she smiled at Brendon who was coming across. He noticed Brendon's agitated state. He came over and leaned into her ear “Something terrible happened last night, Violet. You must see Eddie.” 

Violet looked fearfully into his eyes. Brendon nodded for her to follow him. They entered a long corridor lined with rows of rooms and came to a room labeled “1208”. Eddie was sitting on his bed. He was staring expressionlessly at the wall in front of him, mumbling something.

She took an uneasy step into the room and looked at Brendon. Brendon nodded, confirming Eddie's state. Violet called out, hiding her fear, “Eddie?’’ She took another step closer to him. Eddie wasn't looking at her, just staring at the blank wall in front of him, mumbling, “Ed?” she called again. She was in front of him now, but Eddie's eyes still hadn't turned to her. She leaned down, put her hands on his cheeks and said, “Can you hear me?’’

Eddie's eyes were still focused on the wall, but when Violet pushed his hair back, she realized that he had red bruises on both sides of his forehead, on his temples. She recoiled in horror, but grabbed his face in her hands again and said quickly, “Eddie, look at me. Look at me.'' This time Eddie's eyes were focused on her, but his gaze was meaningless. “Eddie, do you know who I am? Do you remember me?” Violet said, her voice shaking.

Eddie closed his eyes tightly and swallowed, then paused, “You…’’ There was silence for a moment, then he continued slowly, “You're Violet.’’

She sniffled her runny nose. Her throat was knotted with pain. “Come on, let's get you to bed, sweetheart, come on.’’ She held his head and rested it against the pillow, then she covered him with a blanket.  

Eddie started watching the ceiling. When she turned her back and was about to leave, Eddie took her hand. He was whispering something. She bent her head and brought her ear close to his lips.

He whispered, “I gotta get out of here.''

The heart didn't need to be stabbed to shatter, because those words were enough to tear Violet's heart in two. She walked out the door and saw Brendon leaning against the wall in the hallway, waiting for her. She was panting. She spoke through clenched teeth. Because she knew that if she let it go, she would start crying.

“Who did this?” she asked angrily.

Brendon was as angry as Violet. “Manager Wilson and Dr Arthur,’’  he said. 

Violet asked, confused, “Why?’’

Brendon took a deep breath and said, “Eddie and John took something from his room. I don't know what it was, they found it when they were searching the rooms.''

Violet had terror in her eyes. “John? Where is he? Did they do this barbaric thing to him too? My God!” she said, fear in her voice. 

Brendon shook his head in the negative and said, “They have him in a cell. It's in the basement of the hospital, no light, no windows, a disgusting place used for punishment.’’

Violet took a pen and paper out of her purse and wrote the names of some medicines on them, “Take these and give them to Eddie. I have a little business.’’

Her eyes were burning with anger and she couldn't see anything else. The way Eddie looked at her shattered her heart. He didn't deserve this. No one deserved this. All along she had believed Eddie was innocent, that maybe the people who had committed the murders had framed him because Eddie was mentally unstable. Maybe Eddie was a scapegoat. But Eddie was innocent.

She came to Manager Wilson's office, opened the door hard and walked in. Wilson lowered his glasses in surprise as she slammed the door wide open.

Wilson said, “Mrs. George, you may not know the ethics of where you come from, but here you have to knock before you enter the room.’’

She slammed the bag in her hand hard on the table. “What is electroshock? What century are you living in? Do you realize that what you are doing is against the human rights of the world? I will report you. You are done, Mr. Wilson. You’re so done. Enjoy your last days here,” she roared. 

“Watch your tone, little lady,” Wilson said, pointing a finger menacingly.

Just then the door opened and several guards came in, ready to take her out of the room. Violet was sure her voice could be heard throughout the hospital.

Wilson said, “I told you the day you came here that my hospital and my rules apply, and in some states electroshocking up to a certain volt is still allowed, and it's not against the law. Those little thieves should have paid for what they did. You are in no position to question my techniques.''

Violet was at the point of losing her profession. “If your fucking techniques cause someone to die, are you going to take responsibility because ‘my hospital, my rules’? He could have died! You turned an innocent man’s brain into mashed potatoes, you bastard!” she shouted.

Wilson stood up angrily and slammed his hands on the table. “The man you call innocent is 23 years old and the murderer of four people. His most recent victim was a 15-year-old little girl. He put her in a coma. If by some miracle she wakes up, she will never see again. She'll be blind for the rest of her life! It'll be a miracle if she even wakes up! When they told me they were sending you here, I was happy that a professional doctor was coming. But I see that your interest in your patient has taken precedence over a doctor-patient relationship . Since you're so defensive of a murderer!’’

Violet answered him with a sharp look. “This is not something I'm saying just for Eddie, Wilson. Listen to me carefully. When Eddie recovers, I'm going to take it to court that he's in danger here, that his life is at risk. I'm going to have him transferred to another hospital. And you won't be able to keep torturing any patient the way you tortured Eddie and John.''

Wilson scratched his head with a laugh. “As I remember, John Forest was not your patient. Did you know that he burned down a nursing home and killed 15 people, including babies?”

He turned around and took out a file and threw it across the table in front of her. “John Forest” was written on it. Violet picked up the file and began to shuffle through it quickly. 

Wilson took a deep breath and sighed, “John Forest is a severe manic depressive. He lives with bipolar at its most extreme. He lives with an identity he made up in his own head. He has schizophrenia. He thinks he's a police officer who's trapped here. And he lives in a world where he says we trapped him to keep him here. He was making progress with his treatment, but since Eddie got here, he's relapsed. We expected it to progress once he found someone who believed what he said. They stole this file last night.’’ He walked to the door. ‘’Come with me.’’

Violet grabbed her purse, which she had thrown on the table, started to go after Manager Wilson and followed him. They entered a room that was used as an infirmary. A few patients were lying on stretchers, moaning in pain, others were asleep. A few nurses were giving some of them soup.

As they walked quickly past the beds, Violet saw John. He had an IV in his arm and was asleep. She had never spoken to him before but she knew who he was, he and Eddie spent a lot of time together.

Wilson raised his hands in the air as if in surrender. “As you can see, Mrs. George, we are not monsters. We've sedated him and we've restarted his medication. I'm sorry about what happened to Mr. Munson, but it had to be done. It's the only way we could keep him from getting confused. He will be fine in a day or two. None of his vital functions have been damaged anyway. He can eat, talk and go to the toilet on his own. The memories that are gone will come back in time. He will just remember some things faintly, that's all.’’

And then he walked away. Stupid bastard. Just because John was mentally ill didn't justify all the things they had done to John and Eddie, she thought. She went and sat down next to John. His eyes were closed but obviously he wasn't asleep, he was just pretending to be asleep. He had heard everything.

“What have they done to Eddie?” he asked quietly.

Violet picked up the file on the bedside table next to John's gurney, checked John's medical tests and answered briefly “Electroshock.’’

He opened his eyes, “Assholes. I'll make them pay for all this. They set me up. It's all lies. I was a policeman, Violet, I was trying to save Eddie and myself. You have to believe me, they're holding me captive here.’’

Violet could only nod. “I believe you,” she said, but she wasn't. Everything was written in the file she was holding in her hand. John felt his eyes grow heavy, unable to bear the effects of the drugs any longer. Violet looked at him sadly, poor man, she thought to herself. She put the files back on the table and left.

She didn't have the strength to deal or talk to anyone any more today, and apparently Eddie wasn't in any condition to talk either. So she thought it best to go back to her room. She was trying to digest and understand everything that had happened. When she heard a voice, which disgusted her even to hear it, she reluctantly stopped and turned around.

Dr Arthur was smiling at her with a satisfied look on his face. “Where are you going, Mrs. George? I thought you'd be attending our choir show tonight.’’

Violet looked him up and down with a look of contempt. “I'm not in the mood to listen to children dressed as angels babbling about how everything will be fine, doctor. But you should definitely go. You obviously need it. Maybe your conscience, which has been lost inside of you, will tingle a little and you will remember where your heart is.’’

She left him there and didn't even look back. Something made Violet feel uncomfortable, something about what the manager and John had said didn't make any sense. Separately it made sense, but put together it was a complicated maze. If John was an arsonist who thought he was a policeman and almost got treatment, and if the file he stole was his own patient file, then why did they electroshock Eddie ?

What were they afraid that Eddie would find out?

Violet had spent the day in her room at the guesthouse, going through the files she had received from Robert. It was almost four in the evening. After taking the last sip of her coffee, she got up and looked out the window at Chassell Hospital. Eddie was probably asleep now, probably from the drugs he was taking. She had prescribed him something to help him recover more quickly and take the pain away. Then she went into the room and threw herself on the bed. 

She was dreaming. She knew it was a dream. She was in a beautiful house with a garden. She looked out of the kitchen window into the backyard. Two little children were running around in the grass, laughing. The joy between them was like pure joy piercing the sky. She called out to them as she continued to chop the vegetables in front of her: “Be careful!”

The older one turned to her and smiled. How much he looked like her. She felt a breath behind her. Then arms wrapped around her stomach from behind. She felt a small kiss on the back of her neck. His warm breath tickled her neck. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “What's my darling wife cooking today?'' That was Eddie's voice. 

He hugged her tighter as he smiled, he started kissing her neck. “Eddie, stop. The kids are outside. They'll see.” she said, giggling.

He laughed out loud. Eddie's laughter was full and deep, like a depth that made Violet's insides tremble for a moment. She put down the knife and put it on his hands that were holding her stomach.

She backed away quickly as she felt the wetness on her hand, blood on her hands.

She turned around in horror. 

Eddie was gone. 

She looked out the window. The children were gone. 

She ran out into the yard. “Eddie! Where are you? Eddie!’’ The peaceful moment was suddenly swallowed by a deadly silence.

She was scared. Had she hurt them? She would never do that. She entered the house and ran through the rooms one by one. When she got to the basement, she came out into a hospital corridor.

She followed the blood stains on the walls. Someone who had been injured had left and grabbed onto the walls on the way out. It could be Eddie, she thought. Finally she found a room with a red door when all the other doors were white. 

As Violet stepped through the doorway, the air seemed to shift, thickening around her like an invisible fog. It wasn’t just an ordinary room—it was something alive, something breathing.

The walls were drenched in crimson. Not the dull red of paint, but the slick, glistening red of fresh blood. Thick rivulets oozed down the surfaces, some congealing into dark clots, while others left sticky trails that glistened in the dim light. The metallic tang of iron hung heavy in the air, invading her nostrils, making her stomach turn.

The floor was tacky beneath her feet. Each step produced a faint, sickening squelch as her shoes clung to the viscous surface. It was as if the room itself sought to hold her in place, pulling her deeper into its trap.

The walls seemed to move. Violet blinked, uncertain if her eyes were betraying her. No, she was sure now— they were pulsing. Slow, rhythmic, like the steady breath of some unseen, grotesque creature. The walls expanded and contracted in a hypnotic cadence, as if the room itself were alive, feeding on her presence.

Her gaze lifted to the ceiling, where ancient, unreadable symbols had been etched in dark, drying blood. They formed a language that defied comprehension, twisting her thoughts into knots with every glance. The symbols seemed to shift when she tried to focus on them, as though they were aware of her gaze. The more she stared, the more they burned into her mind like searing hot knives.

A low hum vibrated in the air—a whisper just below the threshold of hearing. Voices, layered and interwoven: men, women, children—all speaking in a language that gnawed at her sanity. She couldn’t understand the words, but she felt them. They crawled inside her head, coiling around her thoughts like serpents.

She turned toward the door, her heart pounding. But the door… was gone. Where it had once stood, there was now only more of that blood-soaked wall. There was no way out.

It was as if someone was talking to her. She couldn't understand where the voice was coming from, but it seemed to be coming from inside her head. “Violet,” said a deep, stern voice.

“You have suffered so much. But it is over now. I'm here to give you the freedom you deserve.’’

She closed her eyes tightly. She thought of Eddie's face. His angelic face. 

When she opened her eyes again, she was between the police cars. And her sister was crying and hugging her, saying, “I can't believe that bastard did this to you. It's over. It's over now.'' For a moment she looked away in surprise, she was remembering this day.

This was the day she feared the most and swore she would always forget. One of her patients had attacked her. He had grabbed her by the throat and choked her until her eyes went dark. She was the one who had gotten him out of the hospital and she was paying for the wrongest decision she had ever made. At the last moment, in a last ditch effort, she hit him on the head with the frame she was holding out her hand and the frame shattered, broke. She had hit him so hard that one of the shards of glass had cut a vein in his forehead. She looked as if she had taken a blood bath from the blood that poured on her. When she came out, the help she had already called for had just arrived. Her sister was getting out of one of the police cars, crying. “I can't believe that jerk did this to you. It's over. It's over now.'' 

She was reliving that damn day in her dream. She was reliving it over and over again. She was forcing herself to wake up, but it was no use. Eventually she was sitting in the back of the ambulance again, she had forgotten how many times this endless cycle had happened. 

Suddenly she felt the crowd slow down. Someone came out of the building where she was staying, it wasn't a person. It was some kind of, something, a thing. His whole body seemed to be on fire, maybe wrapped in ivy. She couldn't understand what it was. It came towards her, slowly but surely. When he looked into her eyes, she felt her soul being pulled.

“Your time is coming, Violet,” the creature said. It was the same voice she heard in her head, “You will join me.''

The moment she opened her eyes, she jumped out of bed in fear. Someone was banging insistently on the door. She poured water from the pitcher on the nightstand into a glass. It could have been the worst and most realistic nightmare she had ever had. She was out of breath, her heart beating like it was going to pierce her chest. She was sweating like she had literally run hundreds of meters.

She took a deep breath, turned on the light and looked at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten o'clock at night. She wondered who had come at this hour. She slowly went and looked through the hole in the door. Someone with long brown hair was waiting in front of the door. It was not someone she recognized. She thought it was one of the nurses or security guards working at the hospital and opened the door.

’’How can I help you?’’

The man looked worried and said, “You are Violet George, aren't you?’’

She nodded her head. She looked at him with curious eyes, waiting for him to explain.

“Hi, I'm Steve Harrington.’’

Violet poured the coffee into the cup and handed it to Steve. Then she walked over to the window and looked outside. Only a few lights were on in the hospital. They would turn them all off soon. The church choir's performance should have been over by now, she thought. After sighing, she pulled the curtain closed and sat on the couch. ’’Did Eddie tell you what he was going to talk about? At least, did he mention what it was about?’’

Steve shook his head. ’’He just told me to come and pick him up from the back door of the hospital. He sounded really scared, like his life depended on it. He said he’d explain everything after I got him. I’ve been waiting for him for a few hours, but no one came. I thought he might be in trouble.’’

She rubbed her forehead with her hand. So Eddie somehow knew what was going to happen to him, and that’s why he wanted to escape , she thought. But now she was even more curious—what did he learn that made him want to run away so urgently?

She sighed, ’’Actually, Eddie got into a bit of trouble because he trusted a friend. One of the other patients, his name is John. He's been receiving treatment at this hospital for some time—I just found out today. He told Eddie that he was a police officer who was lured into a trap and brought here. But in reality, he's an arsonist, though he doesn’t realize it. He tricked Eddie into trying to escape with him.’’

Steve gave a bitter smile. ’’Don't take this the wrong way, Doctor, but from your tone, it doesn't sound like you really believe that.’’

Violet nodded. ’’There's something that’s been bothering me. On my first day here, I met a patient at the door named Mitsy. It was obvious she had a mental illness, but physically, she looked healthy. Later that same day, I learned that another patient named Mitsy had died of severe pneumonia.’’

Steve was staring at her with curiosity.

Violet continued, ’’The patient who died had been bedridden for a long time, unable to walk. They told me it was just a coincidence of names.’’

’’But you didn’t believe them,’’ Steve said, narrowing his eyes as if waiting for her next sentence.

Violet nodded again. ’’I searched the records room where they keep files on all the patients, looking for someone named Mitsy. And what do you think I found? Nothing. There was no other patient named Mitsy. The woman I saw that day and the corpse were the same person. But that brings up another question. How did that woman end up in that condition within just a few hours?’’

Steve was nervously biting his lip. ’’Do you think Eddie wanted to escape because he figured out the reason behind all of this?’’

’’Most likely, yes. He was going to tell me everything anyway. He just made a deal with me—if I found out who reported him, he would explain everything. Now, I’m not even sure if he’ll remember everything clearly…’’ Violet sighed. ’’Right now, there's only one person who knows what really happened. And I’m not sure if I can trust him—John Forest.’’

Steve stared at her, his eyes wide with urgency. ’’Wait a minute. Did you find out? Did you tell Eddie?’’

She looked at him, confused. ’’Tell him what?’’

Steve leaned forward, his voice more intense now. ’’Who reported him to the police! Did you tell Eddie?’’

She shook her head. ’’No.’’ She didn’t understand why Steve was suddenly so nervous. Clearly, he knew the answer to that question too. But deep down, something told her that Steve didn’t want Eddie to find out.

Steve stood up anxiously and began pacing around the room. "Violet, listen to me… we need to get Eddie out of there. Because…" He trailed off, struggling to find the right words, running his fingers through his brown hair, scratching his head as if it would help.

"Steve, he's my responsibility. If you know something about him, you need to tell me. I wouldn’t do anything to put his life in danger." Violet’s voice was calm but firm, urging him to continue.

Steve took a deep breath, exhaling slowly. "If I tell you… you won’t believe me." He hesitated for a moment, then a smile flickered across his face, as if an idea had just struck him.

"But I can show you."

They started walking deeper into the forest. About seven minutes had passed since Violet first thought this was a bad idea, but it was already too late to turn back. She had known Steve for less than an hour, and yet here she was, following a stranger into the woods.

"There it is!" Steve said, pointing ahead.

Violet squinted through the trees and saw a narrow path. At the end of it, a yellow car was parked. "I didn’t know there was a road here," she murmured.

Steve smiled and ran toward the car. He knocked on the back window, and after a moment, the door opened. A few young people climbed out, all looking around 18 or 19 years old.

Steve introduced them briefly. "These are Dustin, Will, and Jane."

Violet smiled and greeted them, and they nodded in return. Then they all got into the car. The drive was quiet for the most part. Violet only asked how they had found her, and unsurprisingly, the answer was the newspapers. Ever since Eddie Munson had been caught and sent to the hospital, it had been the only topic in every news outlet and newspaper.

As the minutes passed, Violet's curiosity grew.

They eventually pulled up in front of the city’s 24-hour library. It was past midnight, so the place looked deserted, except for a lone clerk dozing at the front desk.

They made their way to one of the computers. Steve showed her some old newspaper clippings. A series of strange events that had happened in Hawkins.

"So, Eddie Munson isn’t the strangest thing to happen in this town," Violet thought.

Experiments on children, a closed-down factory, townspeople claiming to have seen a creature resembling a dog, people disappearing without a trace… One article even mentioned a girl rumored to have extraordinary powers.

Violet’s questioning gaze locked onto Dustin and asked.

“Alright, I’ve read all this, but do you have any actual proof that any of it is real?”

Dustin, calm and confident, smiled again as he repeated his words.

“The proof is sitting right in front of you.”

As the sentence echoed in her mind, Violet looked at him with a puzzled expression. What did he mean by that? Her eyes narrowed slightly as she tried to piece it together.

And then it happened. The chair... it started to move.

At first, she felt a faint tremor, then slowly, it began to rise off the ground. Her hands instinctively gripped the sides of the chair, as if clinging to the last remnants of stability. Fear climbed up her spine like a cold wave. Her mind split into two conflicting thoughts: This can’t be real. You’re imagining things. Stay rational, Violet!

But another voice challenged her logic: Are you stupid? You’re flying!

Her eyes darted to Jane. The young girl had her hand raised, fingers extended as if she were pulling invisible strings. Wherever her hand moved, the chair followed. Jane’s face was calm, devoid of any hesitation. It was as if she did this every day, as casually as breathing.

Violet’s heart pounded in her chest, each beat reverberating through her ribcage. Her breaths quickened, short and shallow, barely filling her lungs before rushing back out. Breathing wasn’t enough. The world around her seemed to defy gravity, the laws of reality bending before her eyes.

When the chair finally descended and her feet touched solid ground again, the trembling in her body didn’t stop. Her hands shook uncontrollably, her fingers feeling like they no longer belonged to her. Her knees felt weak, as if they might give out at any moment.

Fear wrapped around her mind like a suffocating fog. This wasn’t a simple fear. This was the sensation of reality itself cracking. She was witnessing the unraveling of the universe’s rules.

Will, moved quickly. He rushed to her side and offered a glass of water. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Violet reached out to take the glass, but her fingers trembled so badly she feared she might drop it. She managed a small sip, the cold water sliding down her throat, but her breathing remained erratic.

As she tried to steady herself, Will’s file slipped from under his arm, scattering a few newspaper clippings and sheets of paper across the floor. But Violet’s eyes were still fixed on the empty space in front of her, on Jane, and on what had just happened.

Her mind raced toward an undeniable truth.

Eddie wasn’t crazy.

The stories he told, the ones everyone dismissed as paranoia, as nonsense… They were true. All of them were true .

The realization turned Violet’s thoughts upside down. A deep sense of helplessness echoed within her, like falling into a bottomless pit. Knowing that Eddie wasn’t insane was comforting in one sense, but that comfort was short-lived. Because it meant something far worse.

Eddie was trapped in a truth too big to explain.

And no one would believe him.

No one in court would listen to these stories. No one would believe in his innocence. The entire world would see him as guilty, and that would be Eddie’s death sentence.

Will and Dustin hurriedly gathered the scattered drawings and newspaper clippings from the floor.

"Stop!" Violet’s voice cracked, still trembling with fear. "Can you hand me that?"

Dustin grabbed the drawing she was pointing at and passed it to her. Steve was saying something about how Will had drawn all of them, but Violet's focus was locked on the creature staring back at her from the paper. The same creature that haunted her dreams.

When she had seen this monster in her nightmare, she had assumed it was just a figment of her imagination, influenced by the files she had read. Like how after watching a horror movie, you dream about being hunted by the killer. But she had never told anyone about that dream. And now, here it was—the creature, identical in every detail.

Jane noticed Violet studying the drawing intently. "Why are you looking at it like that? Did you see it?"

Violet nodded slowly. "Is this... Vecna?"

"Yes." Steve, leaning against one of the bookshelves, crossed his arms over his chest.

"But that's not even our biggest problem right now," Dustin added.

Violet’s brow furrowed in confusion. "What are you talking about? What could be worse than this ?"

Will, with that familiar expression of delivering bad news, spoke quietly. "Max woke up."

Violet looked at them, uncomprehending.

"Maxine Mayfield," Steve clarified.

Her blood ran cold. Was this some kind of contest to deliver the worst possible news one after the other?

"Max Mayfield?" Violet repeated, her voice barely above a whisper. "But... she’s the one who reported Eddie."

Steve stepped closer, kneeling in front of her, and took her trembling hands on his own, as if trying to steady them.

"Yes," he said softly. "Because that’s not Max. Vecna is using her as a host. We don’t know if he knows that we’re aware of it. That’s why we have to be extremely careful. Max is still in there somewhere, just like Will was years ago. Vecna was controlling him like a puppet, using him as a spy. Vecna lived in the mind of someone connected to this world, gathering strength. It was his mother and brother who pulled him out of Will. And now, Vecna is doing the same to Max. We’re waiting for the moment when she’s at her weakest."

Violet sighed in disappointment. "If Vecna inside Max is Vecna, that means... Vecna who reported him is Vecna. And that means... when the court asks Max who did this to her, Max will say Eddie ."

Dustin shook his head. "They'll execute him. That's why you need to get Eddie out of there."

Violet pointed to herself, stunned. "Do I need to get him out of there?"

Steve said, "We need to go back. We have to protect the town. Listen to me, Violet. Vecna is already after you. He'll eliminate anyone protecting Eddie. Take a walkman with you and put your favorite music in it. Never let it out of your sight. No matter the cost."

Violet now understood why Eddie had asked her for her favorite music. She had to pull herself together and accept what was happening as quickly as possible. There wasn’t even time to sit down and cry. Her and Eddie's lives were in danger.

Just as she was about to stand up, she turned back and sat at the computer. Everyone in the room was watching her with curious eyes. "I need to learn one more thing," she said. She typed "Fire at Sidney Nursing Home" into the search bar. 

News about the fire popped up in front of her. She saw a photo taken by a journalist. Firefighters were trying to extinguish the flames. Police had put up yellow tape all around the Nursing Home. The public, waiting in fear for the fire to be put out, were watching the firefighters. And there he was . He was in the back, but she knew it was him. John Forest. He was wearing a police uniform. He was talking to the man next to him. She knew it. John was telling the truth. John was not lying, he was indeed working as a police officer at the time of the fire at the nursing home. But wait... Violet recognized the person he was talking to as well. He was also wearing a police uniform. It was none other than Brendon , the nurse from the hospital.

She printed out the article and stood up. "We can go now."

Steve pulled the car into the entrance of the hospital. As Violet got out of the car with a heavy motion, Steve handed her the phone numbers, saying, “If anything goes wrong, you can reach these numbers.” Slowly, as he closed the car door, he looked at her one last time and continued, “Be careful.” For a few seconds, the sound of Steve’s car engine blended with the silence of the hospital, and then he quickly drove away.

Violet took a deep breath and entered the hospital. There was a faint chill in the air, as if the walls of this place always emitted a shiver. It was very quiet inside, as if everything had remained still on this night. She only occasionally heard the painful moans of patients coming from the corridors.

Every now and then, guards, nuns, and nurses appeared in the corridor, passing by quickly. But none of them seemed to notice Violet, or perhaps they preferred not to. After all, she was a doctor in this hospital.

As Violet walked toward Eddie's room, her heart beat a little faster with each step. At that moment, suddenly a hand grabbed her shoulder from behind, and the fingers swiftly and strongly covered her mouth. Violet was paralyzed with fear. She wanted to scream, but her voice only came out as a muffled gasp. Her hands were trembling as she tried to pull herself back, but the man's strength made every movement feel like a greater threat.

As he continued to pull her backward, Violet was being dragged quickly through a dark passage. The spaces between the rooms seemed to deepen her fear, as if each one was a hidden witness to her terror. At that moment, she felt the traces of the hospital’s cold, slick air on her hands, arms, and fingers.

As she was being dragged toward the janitor’s room, the person holding her turned her toward him. It was Brendon . He made a quiet "shh" gesture with his other hand. When she nodded in fear, he finally removed his hand from her mouth.

Violet yelled angrily, "What do you think you’re doing!?"

Brendon pulled a card from his pocket and then retrieved a file he had hidden on the side of his jacket and handed it to her.

He whispered, “This is my nurse card. It opens all the patient rooms except for the manager’s offices and the cells in the C block. With this, you can take Eddie out of his cell.’’ Then he handed her the file. ’’And you’ll protect this file like it’s everything. It contains all the filthy things Dr. Arthur has done. John and I were after this man. I was about to lose my job to get this file, so make sure it gets to its destination, Violet.”

Violet, filled with fear and adrenaline, listened intently to every word coming from his mouth, nodding her head to show she understood.

“How will I get Eddie out of here?” she asked.

Brendon gave her directions to a secret way leading from the C WARD . Violet didn’t want to go through the C WARD.

There were animal-like things there that had lost any trace of their humanity. She had been terrified the first time she saw it, and that was during the day. Now, it was well past midnight, and she was certain that Dr. Arthur kept his undead experiments locked up there. But there was no other way, she had to get Eddie out of here.

She ran to Eddie’s room. She showed Brendon’s card to the ID scanner next to the cell door and stormed inside. Eddie seemed surprised. He stood up. "Violet?" he murmured.

It was clear he couldn’t immediately tell who was coming through the darkness. His speech had improved, but his hands were still shaking from the effects of the electroshock. Violet ran to him and hugged him. She was there. In his arms.

Eddie stood still for a few seconds, still in shock. Then she felt Eddie’s arms wrap around her shoulders, pulling her toward him. He smelled her hair. Then he pulled back and held her face in his hands.

Eddie whispered, “What are you doing here? Someone will see you.”

Violet whispered back, “I know you’re innocent, Eddie. I’m getting you out of this hell.”

Eddie smiled and tightly squeezed Violet’s hand. Before they left the cell, Violet checked around to make sure no one was around. Once she was certain, they left together. They weren’t running, but they were walking quickly. Eddie held her hand and pulled her. “Wait!”

Violet turned to him, as if asking what was going on.

“We need to take John too. We can’t leave without him,” he said.

For a moment, she hesitated, feeling uneasy. Violet was already getting herself into enough trouble; she couldn’t take any more risks. “I’ll come back for him later. I promise. We have to go right now, ” she said.

But Eddie shook his head in disapproval. “He got you into trouble for me. When the files came out of my room, he took the blame. He could have said nothing, but he protected me. I owe him this.”

Violet reluctantly accepted it. It seemed Eddie wasn’t going to leave without John. She gripped Eddie’s hand tightly again, and they started running. Fortunately, the infirmary was on the ground floor. When they rushed inside, several patients started screaming. She was relieved that this was a mental hospital, because patients always screamed here, but they were rarely taken seriously.

They headed for the bed where John was. He was awake, sitting up, seemingly lost in thought. He was surprised when he saw them. “What are you doing here?”

“There’s no time for questions. We need to leave. Now!” Violet yelled.

They ran together and finally entered the corridor where the C WARD was. It literally smelled of death. They were running for their lives.

Violet only turned around for a second. Eddie and John were no longer there. The corridor seemed longer than it actually was.

She saw the creature - Vecna - coming toward her slowly from a distance.

Vecna's presence was emerging from the darkness like a shadow, and it was appearing at the end of the corridor. The sound of its footsteps was turning into a metallic, echoing growl. "Eddie?" she murmured in fear, unsure if Eddie and John could see her or Vecna anymore.

They were so close to the exit door. Eddie’s heart was about to jump out of his mouth from fear and running; his eyes were going dark as he ran. Sometimes, flashbacks of memories came and went in front of his eyes; the electroshock felt like it had reset his entire body. He couldn’t stop his hands from trembling, and there was an incredible pain in his head.

But the nightmare was now over. The only thing they needed to do to get out of this cursed asylum was take a few more steps, then they would be free. Eddie noticed for a moment that Violet had stopped. He called out to John, who was running ahead. "Wait!"

Eddie hurried toward Violet."Violet, come on. Why did you stop? We need to go. What are you waiting for?!"

She didn’t respond. She just kept staring down the corridor. Eddie waved his hand in front of Violet’s eyes.

"Can you hear me?! Violet, can you hear me?! Shit.. shit, I don’t like this. "

John came to them in a panic. "What’s wrong with her like this?!" he was saying.

Eddie didn’t know. No , it couldn’t be. He knew. This was exactly the same as what happened to Chrissy. Was Vecna taking her?

God, no. No.

Eddie quickly grabbed Violet by the shoulders and began shaking her violently. Then he cupped her face in his hands. "Violet! Can you hear me? Violet! Listen to me! You have to run from him! For God’s sake, you have to run from him!" Eddie was shouting in fear.

John timidly nudged Eddie; Eddie didn’t have a second to spare for him. "Wait, John!" he yelled, his tears fogging his eyes.

John was pointing down the corridor. The patients in the C ward were waking up, and there were sounds of banging on the doors of the cells. The patients in these cells were humanoid creatures who had survived Doctor Arthur’s experiments. Eddie thought, this can’t be happening now. Please, not now.

He turned back to Violet. He slapped his forehead a few times. "What was her favorite song? What was it?!" He couldn’t remember. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to think, but it hurt so much. The places where they had electroshocked him were still aching.

"Dream on!" he said suddenly, with a brief expression of relief as he remembered the song, but… what were the lyrics? He squeezed his eyes shut again. He had to remember. He slapped his forehead a few more times.

He was shouting at himself, ’’Remember the lyrics, come on Eddie!’’

Then Violet suddenly began to rise slowly into the air. Eddie's eyes were focused on Violet's slowly levitating body and his pulse was getting faster and more erratic with each beat of his heart.

John was so terrified by the sight that he collapsed to the ground. He was screaming. ’’What the fuck is happening?!’’

Eddie swallowed hard, ’’No, no. Please don’t take her. I can’t lose her too.’’

taglist: @arabellagreenleaf @25bohemianmoons

[phefics]

unconventional

ship: billy loomis x fem!reader x stu macher summary: a tickle fight with billy and stu takes a turn when the boys realize how much they like hearing the reader beg. warnings: dubious consent, degrading names (slut), tickling word count: 1.6k

It’s an unconventional arrangement, dating two boys at once. You certainly hadn’t befriended Billy Loomis and Stu Macher with the intention of falling for either of them, let alone both.

But, shit happens, especially when your two best friends are attractive and fucking inseparable. Dating one of them would end up as a package deal, anyway. 

Kids at school couldn’t quite figure you out. One day, you’d be seen getting carried bridal-style by Stu, the next, you’d be holding hands with Billy. Some people thought you were a cheater, some thought you were a beard to hide a gay love affair.

None of you gave a shit what anyone thought.

Your parents weren’t home, and you had invited the boys over for a movie night. Stu had arrived first, because he lived closer, and although Billy got there only a few minutes later, he walked in on an interesting scene.

You had left the front door unlocked, and as he walked inside, he heard shrieking coming from the living room. He panicked for a moment, thinking Stu had broken the ‘Don’t Kill Y/N’ rule, but as he tiptoed into the room, all he found was Stu straddling your thighs, tickling you.

He couldn’t help but grin at the sight. “What’s going on here?” he asked.

You and Stu both jumped at his voice, so caught up in the moment that you had forgotten he was on his way.

“Billy, help!” you cried, still giggling like mad as Stu’s fingers slipped beneath your sweater, scribbling over the skin of your stomach.

“Help? Sure, I’ll help,” Billy said, giving Stu a smirk as he approached, kneeling down on the floor beside you.

He easily grabbed your flailing wrists and pulled your arms up, pinning them over your head.

“Can’t smack me anymore, hm?” Stu teased. “Thanks, Billy, I was startin’ to fear for my life there.”

“No problem. We couldn’t let that pretty face get bruised, could we?”

While you agreed that Stu had a pretty face, you wanted nothing more than to punch him in it as his fingers creeped higher, tickling your underarms with a newfound vigor, now that you were helpless to stop him.

Your laugh grew in volume, in intensity. “You fuckers,” you gasped out, kicking your legs wildly. “I’m gonna kill you both, cut it out!”

Billy let out a low chuckle, his breath ghosting over your ear. Stu, meanwhile, giggled along with you, clearly pleased with himself for starting this whole thing.

“You want us to stop?” Billy asked. “Cause it seems like you’re having fun…”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re smiling like crazy,” Stu added. “Why would we stop makin’ you smile, baby?”

"Besides, we're certainly having fun."

You whined as his fingers slowed to a torturous, feather-light touch, just ghosting against your skin. “You guys suck,” you said, breathless.

Billy hummed. “Really? We suck? That’s not very nice, Y/N. Stu, I think we need to teach her some manners.”

“I agree.”

And with that, Stu’s hands began tickling you again, dancing over your entire torso, never lingering in one spot for too long. Billy adjusted his grip on your wrists so that he was only holding them with one hand, using the other to flutter over the side of your neck, making you scrunch up your shoulders uselessly.

This was awful. It was torture. But…There was something exciting about it, too. Being held down like this, helpless and pliant beneath their touches as they exploited your weak spots…Stu’s hands brushed against your chest as he went, and you weren’t wearing a bra, and you felt your nipples grow hard at the quick, barely-there contact.

“You gonna apologize to us?” Billy asked.

You shook your head. You had nothing to apologize for. They did suck, you were just telling the truth.

“Always so fuckin’ stubborn,” he sighed, before using his free hand to tickle your armpit, making you squeal.

“Maybe she’s not giving up because she likes it,” Stu said. “She’s such a slut, I wouldn’t be surprised if this turns her on.”

If the tickling itself wasn’t hot, those words certainly were. You felt your pussy throb when you were called that, felt a thrill up your spine.

Billy chuckled. “Yeah, you’re probably right,” he said. “How about we make a new deal, Y/N? Stu’s gonna pull your pants down, and if you aren't wet right now, we’ll stop. But if you are, well…Maybe we’ll take the rest of your clothes off and keep going.”

The fingers stopped, finally giving you a chance to fully catch your breath. Your skin buzzed with the phantom sensation, your head spun from their teasing words. But most of all, you knew for a fact that you were wet, and your heart pounded in your chest at the realization.

Stu gave you a mischievous grin before getting off your legs and grabbing the waist of your sweatpants, yanking them down to your knees with no preamble, and cupping his fingers over your mound, pressing against your folds through your panties, feeling the obvious dampness that only made his grin grow larger, more devilish.

“You were right,” he said. “Little slut’s getting off on this.”

You opened your mouth and shut it again. What were you supposed to say? Deny the obvious? Attempt to elaborate that it wasn’t really the tickling, it was everything combined? Would that really save your dignity?

Billy laughed. “Fuckin’ knew it.”

You let out a soft whimper as Stu’s fingers rubbed against your pussy, trying to buck your hips to gather more friction.

“So needy,” Stu muttered, almost to himself.

Billy released your wrists and made quick work of pulling your hoodie over your head, the cold air making goosebumps rise on your bare skin. Your nipples hardened even more, and you grew even more aroused as you were stripped.

Stu pulled your pants down the rest of the way, and your underwear, too, leaving you naked on the carpet and blushing like mad.

“Ready for round two, baby?”

You shook your head, squirming wildly as they caged you in between their bodies. “Please, I—”

They didn’t let you finish. If you really wanted them to stop, you knew what to say, and you hadn’t, so they had no reason for showing mercy.

Stu began squeezing up and down your thighs, occasionally scratching behind your knees as well, while Billy dug into your ribs.

The combined sensations made you burst into laughter, slightly hoarse with how loud you’d been the entire time. You thrashed, but they easily dodged your flying limbs and kept tickling.

“So fuckin’ cute,” Billy cooed.

“Fucking adorable,” Stu agreed.

You wailed as Stu ran his fingers over the sole of your foot, toes curling in an attempt to block the feeling, but it did nothing to provide any relief.

“Please,” you managed to say. “I can’t take it anymore, stop it!”

To your surprise, they did. Your begging usually only turned them on more, and you doubted they were truly going to stop.

Stu positioned himself between your thighs, pushing them apart so he could bring his face to your pussy, looking up at you with those sweet blue eyes.

Billy’s hands came to grab your breasts, and you moaned softly as his thumbs brushed over your nipples.

Stu licked at your entrance teasingly before beginning to eat you out, holding your hips and easily finding your clit with his tongue.

Your head lolled back into Billy’s lap, legs spreading even wider to give Stu better access to your aching clit.

All the rough-housing, the name-calling, the teasing had gotten you so worked up, and they were finally going to give you some relief.

Or, so you thought.

Slowly, Billy’s touch became light and ticklish again, blunt fingernails tracing along the curve of your tits, up to your collarbones, down to your sides. You squirmed and laughed softly, trying to ignore it and focus on the pleasure Stu’s tongue was bringing you, but that bastard had also begun to wiggle his fingers against your hips, all while focusing the rest of his attention on your clit, causing a mixture of moans and giggles to spill from your lips.

“So pretty,” Billy murmured. “So sensitive, too. But you take it like the good girl you are, hm? You’ll take whatever we dish out, won’t you, slut?”

“Yes,” you reply, your speech slightly slurred.

“You gonna cum for us like this? Fuckin’ helpless, fuckin’ adorable…”

You whined as Stu’s mouth brought you closer to climax, and Billy’s words were certainly helping. “Yes,” you said again. “Please, make me cum…”

You felt Stu chuckle against you, the heat of his breath making you twitch.

Their fingers were still tickling, in that maddening sort of itch that made you want to crawl out of your skin more than it made you want to laugh. It kept your entire nervous system alert, buzzing like electricity as you drew closer and closer to orgasm.

“That’s our girl,” Billy said. “Begging like a good slut. You can cum baby, cum for us.”

His words were all you needed to be pushed off the edge, legs shaking as you came with a cry of pleasure.

Stu popped up from between your thighs, all wild-eyed and adorable, like he was so proud to have given you that orgasm. His lips were shining with your wetness, and Billy leaned over you to kiss it off for him.

As your boyfriends kissed, you flopped back against the carpet, breathless and spent. Your skin still tingled and you felt high off of adrenaline.

“How ‘bout we get you cleaned up, huh?” Stu said, gesturing at the sticky mess on your thighs.

You blushed. “My shower is not big enough for the three of us,” you said.

“But we could run you a bath,” Billy suggested. “And you could watch us have a little fun…You got us so fuckin’ hard.”

You could see both of their cocks straining in their pants, and grinned. “That sounds like a plan.”

An unconventional relationship, an unconventional sex life…You couldn’t care less if it was strange. It was fucking perfect.

[muldj0rd]

Blond hair, don't even remember the colour that your eyes were || Loscar

Summary: Alex shrugged slightly “Nobody really knows, but whatever it is, it’s pretty bad. Not even Lando can get a smile out of him,”

“Lando says it’s because he can’t remember your eye colour,” Carlos chimed in “But I don’t know if it’s true,” He shrugged, confused faces on the two others.

Warnings: Anal, anal fingering, top Logan, bottom Oscar, angst, Logan lowkey hating on Lando, cockwarming, overstimulation.

Masterlist || AO3

Oscar was frustrated- No. He was mad at himself.

Oscar had dreamt of Logan for one night after Abu Dhabi, and everything was as a dream about Logan usually was, but something was different.

Oscar woke up that morning, listing all the things in his head. Blond hair, tall, not fit, not thin, pale skin- soft skin, the most beautiful hands. One thing he was missing: Logan’s eye colour.

It had been the first time he had dreamt of Logan after Zandvoort, he hadn’t seen him since- he still followed him on Instagram, but he can not for the life of him remember his eye colour.

They’d been best friends for what felt like forever, and he could not remember the colour of his eyes. Where they blue? Brown? Green? He couldn’t tell ya.

Oscar got to his parent's house in Australia for Christmas with barely a smile, still not remembering the colour. Neither of the Piastri’s worried about the missing smile. Jet lag, he had said, and they believed.

Nicole was the first to think something was up with Oscar. She didn’t say anything though. She went to Hattie instead whom almost had noticed but did not know.

“What happened to Logan?” Hattie asked as she sat down beside Iscar on the couch in the living room, his smile still not there.

“Logan?” Oscar never allowed his emotions to get in the way of family gatherings or holidays, but when he did, Logan was always involved. Oscar shrugged slightly “It’s stupid,” He sighed.

“Come on. Tell me,” She urged, her eyes soft.

Oscar hesitated “I can’t remember the colour of his eyes,” He mumbled, embarrassed to be speaking the truth.

Hattie was surprised to hear this “That’s what’s been bugging you?” Oscar nodded softly “You know, google does exist, right?” She teased, a soft smirk on her lips.

“That’s embarrassing though. Searching up your… Friend’s eye colour,” Were they? Friends? They hadn’t spoken since Zandvoort. They weren’t friends anymore, were they?

Oscar sighed softly again, shifting slightly in his seat “Hattie… What is his eye colour?”

Once, Hattie would’ve teased Oscar for being obsessed with Logan’s eye colour “They’re green, Osc,” But not when she could see how it affected him not knowing.

–

Hattie had said at Christmas what Logan’s eye colour was, but by Australia in March, he had forgotten again.

He was quiet again. No smile, no nothing. Not even Lando could get a crackle out of him.

He never told Hattie he forgot again, he felt too embarrassed by it.

By Miami, everyone had caught on- even the journalists had, and people practically stopped trying to get a smile out of him.

Logan had been invited to the Williams garage that weekend- Oscar had not been informed, not even by Lando who had known from Carlos.

“What’s up with Oscar lately?” Logan asked as he stood with Alex and Carlos at the other end of the paddock from the McLaren garage.

Alex shrugged slightly “Nobody really knows, but whatever it is, it’s pretty bad. Not even Lando can get a smile out of him,”

“Lando says it’s because he can’t remember your eye colour,” Carlos chimed in “But I don’t know if it’s true,” He shrugged, confused faces on the two others.

“Really?” Logan asked, his arms crossed over his chest, eyebrows scrunched together, trying to understand why that was the reason.

“Don’t know if that’s why,” Carlos repeated, shrugging slightly again, Logan humming softly.

–

Logan made his way to the McLaren hospitality after the race, passing Lando on the way as he made his way to Oscar’s driver's room.

He knocked softly on the door, an obviously tired ’yeah’ coming from the other side.

Oscar’s breath hitched slightly as he saw it was Logan knocking on the door “I’m guessing you didn’t know I was here,” Logan chuckled softly as he closed the door behind him, Oscar shook his head slightly as he looked into his hands were he sat on the small couch.

Logan sat down beside Oscar, taking his chin into his hands, turning his head to face him, making sure he was looking into his eyes “My eyes are green, okay?” Oscar’s eyes widened slightly as he blushed and tried looking away but Logan held a firm grip on him.

“Who told you?” He asked low, not trusting his voice not to crack.

Logan sighed softly, a slight smile on his lips “Lando told Carlos who told me and Alex,” Oscar whined, forcing his head out of Logan’s touch and onto his shoulder, mumbling something about it being embarrassing.

“How long has it been bugging you?” Logan asked softly, his hand caressing Oscar’s shower-damp hair.

Oscar leaned slightly back, Logan’s hand drifting to the side of his neck “Since Abu Dhabi,” He admitted “Almost at least”

“Abu Dhabi?” Logan said- asked surprised, his thumb slowly soothing over Oscar’s skin “Baby-” Logan shut himself up quickly after he realised what he said.

Oscar blushed deeply, his eyes going slightly wide. Could that be why he was so mad at himself for not remembering Logan’s eye colour? Because he had feelings for the American?

“I’m sorry-” Oscar acted before he could think, leaning himself forward, and kissing Logan deeply. He tried leaning back when Logan didn’t kiss back, but the blond was quick to pull him back, kissing him passionately.

“Osc-” “Shut up,” Oscar pushed Logan down softly to lay on his back, Oscar’s hand in his hair, tilting his head back to kiss him deeper, his tongue pushing past Logan’s lips.

One of Logan’s hands was on Oscar’s hip, the other in his hair, pulling him slightly away, but he didn’t get to speak before Oscar did “I need you. Please,” He panted heavily.

“Osc… Neither of us has lube,” Logan panted just as heavily, arching his neck slightly when Oscar started kissing his neck.

“I have back at the hotel. Come with me, please,” He almost begged, grinding himself down onto Logan’s thigh, pointing out how hard he was.

“You have to go through interviews… And then you have the debriefing, and with that stunt Lando pulled, that’s gonna take hours,” Logan almost growled the words out, obviously a lot of hatred towards the Brit.

Oscar leaned back, smirking slightly down at Logan, his hips continuing to teasingly move against Logan’s thigh “You jealous, Logie?”

Oscar’s laugh was short-lived when he yelped as Logan turned them around “Get back out there. Finish the interviews and the debriefing, and I’ll fuck you so hard you forget everything but me. You got that?”

Oscar nodded eagerly, blushing heavily at Logan’s sudden serious voice “Good boy,” He chuckled, leaning down to kiss Oscar softly before letting him go.

–

“Jesus. You’re eager, baby,” Logan chuckled as Oscar immediately got to pulling his shirt over his head the moment the hotel door was closed.

“I need you so bad,” Oscar breathed, pulling Logan’s shirt off as well, pulling him towards the bed, pulling him on top of himself.

“Yeah? How bad d’you need me?” Logan teased, kissing down Oscar’s naked chest, his tongue ghosting over his skin a few times.

“R-really bad,” He almost cried out, his back arched slightly, goosebumps rising on his skin, his nipples getting stiff from the cold air.

Logan chuckled, leaning back from Oscar’s body “Where’s the lube?”

“The suitcase,” He panted, immediately kicking his shoes and jeans off, leaving him in just his boxers.

Logan kicked off his shoes as well as he made his way over to the open suitcase, searching for the lube bottle.

He found the bottle and got back to Oscar, awestruck by his mostly naked body- almost drooling at the way his skin looked under the sunshine through the window.

“God, you’re beautiful,” He hummed, getting back onto the bed, his lips going to the inside of Oscar’s thighs, kissing him deeply on the skin, not caring if he left any evident marks.

Oscar’s hands went into Logan’s blond hair, tugging at it impatiently “Please, Logan. Stop teasing. I need you inside me, please,” Logan got harder by Oscar’s words- if that was even possible at this point.

“Fuck, you sound so good when you’re begging,” Logan said as he leaned back, Oscar’s hips lifting off the bed slightly as Logan pulled down his boxers slowly, throwing them to the floor when they were off entirely.

Oscar whimpered softly as he heard the cap of the bottle open and the soft squelching of Logan warming the liquid up between his fingers.

He tried suppressing the moan that came out when Logan slowly and softly started circling his fingers around his rim, but he wasn’t able to.

Logan chuckled softly, carefully watching Oscar’s facial expression as he slowly pushed a finger into him, making sure he wasn’t uncomfortable.

“Doing good?” Logan asked, seeing Oscar’s chest rising and falling quickly, his eyes shut tight.

He nodded slightly “‘M fine, jus… Been a while,” He said, a slight whine to his voice, his hands fisted in the crumpled-up sheets beneath him.

“I’ll take it slow then,” Logan promised, very slowly starting to move his finger, whines and whimpers pulled from Oscar’s lips, and his back arched slightly.

“So beautiful. Doing so good, baby,” Logan praised, slowly pushing a second finger in to join the first, the whole of Oscar’s body blushing from the pet name, moaning softly as he felt the second finger as well.

“Logan,” Oscar begged in a sound that was a moan mixed with a desperate whine, the blond slowly starting to move his fingers again.

“Shh. Patience. Gotta get you prepped first,” Logan chuckled softly, his fingers slowly speeding up, causing Oscar to get slightly louder, his hips grinding down against Logan’s hand, trying to get him to hit the perfect spot.

Oscar cried out Logan’s name when the other finally curled his fingers just right so he hit his prostate.

“Yeah? Right there, baby?” Logan asked teasingly, hitting the same spot again, Oscar’s back arched sharply, his knuckles turning white from the force of his grip in the sheets.

“P-please. Fuck me, please. Need you, Logie- please,” Oscar begged between loud moans, his body covered in a thin layer of sweat.

“How can I say no when you ask so nicely?” Logan teased, slowly pulling his fingers out of Oscar, pulling a whine from him as he was now feeling empty.

Oscar was panting heavily as Logan leaned back, wiping his slick fingers clean on Oscar’s thigh before he got up and got rid of his remaining clothes.

Logan got back in between Oscar’s legs, stroking himself a few times with lube in his palm to get himself ready- making sure not to hurt Oscar in any way.

Oscar made sure to look directly into Logan’s eyes as he slowly pushed into him.

They weren’t entirely green. Blue-green is. Green-blue ish. They were green… Ish.

They both moaned softly when Logan had pushed all the way in, Oscar’s nails digging into the back of Logan, holding onto him for dear life- afraid he’d disappear again.

“You okay?” Logan asked softly, a slight grunt in his throat as he adjusted his hips slightly, causing Oscar to whimper quietly.

“Yes,” He panted out, nodding his head slightly, still making sure to look into Logan’s eyes.

Green, green, green… Ish.

“You can move, please,” He barely got his words out before Logan slowly started moving, leaning back to hold onto Oscar’s waist, holding himself steady as he slowly increased his pace and rhythm.

Both their moans and sounds got louder as well, hands gripping so tight it would leave marks behind, shared messy kisses. Oscar trying his best- and failing, to hold his eyes open to look into Logan’s.

Logan slid his hands down to Oscar’s hips, lifting him slightly so he could pound into his prostate at every thrust, Oscar quickly coming untouched without warning, clenching down around Logan.

“No- keep going,” Oscar panted when Logan avoided his prostate to not hurt him or make him uncomfortable.

“Osc-” “Please,” Logan nodded softly after some hesitation and kept going, his speed picking up again, thrusting into Oscar’s prostate with the same force as before, listening to his sounds of overstimulation, feeling him squirming under him, his legs tightly trying to close around his hips.

Logan didn’t give much of a warning either before he came, his hips pressed firmly against Oscar’s ass, his body twitching as he felt himself filling up the other man.

They laid against each other, breathing the same air for a few minutes before Logan began to pull out “Stay,” Oscar said as he pulled him back against him.

Logan chuckled softly, but gave up and laid back down against Oscar, not caring they were now both sticky with his cum on his chest “You know the chance of a UTI is higher this way, right?” “I’ll take the chance just to feel you close a little longer,” Oscar hummed, Logan, tilting his head to look into his eyes. Green.

[evenmorefatallyobsessed]

I make four Milf Models on the list (and a Fifth on in Shiranui) and then I go and find Six more 'Mature' Gems! Dammit...

Anyways let me introduce the Six new candidates.

1.) Cattleya (Queen's Blade)

Not gonna like, I know noithing besides that she has huge tits, glasses and is a blacksmith with hella muscle... That is more then enough! I would make her son and Jaune friends, and Cattleya is the only woman the Arc trust to forge their weapons and upkeep them. Her son Rana is one of the only people Jaune trust around his sisters.

2.) Kie Kamado (Demon Slayer)

So truth be told, I have not watched Demon Slayer... And this woman and her four dead kids are why! Like THE FUQ!? Jesus man this crap broke my heart, I... I just moved right along to happy anime cuz that shit makes me sad as fuck... So yeah they would live in Ansel, and she would be Juniper's best friend and one of the very few women he can understand the sheer difficulties of raising a small team of children. But worst, because she has to do it alone... Then Grimm attack, and while everyone else is trying to protect their own. Little Jaune rushes to help his best friend Tanjiro and his siblings! Auraless and with only his families sword in hand that he can barely wield the two boys actually manage to kill a Beowulf and proceed to get them to the safety of the Arc House.

3.) Shizu Shinazugawa (Demon Slayer)

DUDE WHAT THE FUCK!!! Seriously this woman somehow had a worst death then Kie! SHE ATE HER KIDS!!! WHAT IN THE FUCKING HELL!!! OH! AND LETS NOT FORGET THAT SHE WAS GETTEN BEATEN BY HER HUSBAND!!! God Dammit, at this point I'm starting to think it's a good thing pig boy was raised by boars. If his mom had been with him instead of abandoning him in thew woods (I assume) she'd probably be dead too! Much less lightening whiney bitch I swear don't give him a tragic backstory too! I do not want to like him... As for shizu, Imma play the Cardin card, and say the two older brothers are bullies in Ansel. Lashing out at others because of their abusive father and of course Jaune is a very ripe target, the envy of the pair because of his kind strong father. Jaune is mad, but after talking to his sisters he decides to invite the boys over to dinner, and try to be friends, after all like his mom says, friends are just strangers you haven't met yet. And besides... Their like him and Tanjiro, he heard they have a lot of siblings too. They should make a club together! It is as little Jaune is having these thoughts that he stumbles upon it... then father beating them, them and their poor mom! And much like with the Ursa Jaune rushes in. And gets beaten within a inch of his life, but doesn't stop, grabbing forks, spoons anything he can get his hands on... Telling them to run, to get his dad. Papa Arc does come forward and what he finds is his son, bloody, beaten barely able to stand, but standing he is, and protecting the poor lady with a broken leg from her evil husband... And then the man is gone, his head taken, the Arc Patriarch not hesitating for even a second.

4.) Ruka Rengoku (Demon Slayer)

'It is the obligation of those born strong to defend the weak. Don't ever forget that..'

That Fucking Line! That Fucking Line Right There Makes Her Hotter Then The Other Two! Oh and what do you know, another piece of shit husband!

Okay, so I get he only turned piece of shit cuz she died bu-NO! You Know what, Fuck that Your Son Died Cuz You Couldn't Step Up And Live Up To Your Wives Words! Fuck You!!! That Drunk Bastard Insulted her memory and made her have to suffer meeting her son FAR TOO EARLY!!!

There is no way this woman doesn't hate her husband from beyond the grave! So here what would happen, Shinjuro would snap earlier then like when his wife is first diagnosed with the disease. At first he tries to stay strong but then begins to drink, then gets pissed when told nothing can be done!

And then in his denial he tries to force them to leave to Atlas, to hopefully find a cure or way to treat her... But Ruka refuses, Ansel needs them, negativity has been on the rise and Grimm have shown up more often. So he begins to drink and rant, and rave and Ruka watches her husband betray both himself and her faith in him.

And then he leaves, taking her with him one night, in desperation kidnapping his own wife against her will, her body far too weak to resist to take her to Atlas forcibly if needed. He uses a favor Papa and Mama Arc owe him to watch his kids while he's gone (Lying and saying he convinced Ruka)

And it is as he was gone that Ansel was attacked, his sons forced to fight, children like them, Jaune, little Tanjiro and the Shinazugawa brothers barely managing to take his place, but not without injury.

When he returns, he isn't met with scorn, nor blame... Not from anyone, except his wife! Ruka will not forgive him, and would rather die alone then married to him... He leaves, bitter angry but knowing she was right. And it was as this was happening that her son brings Jaune to her, the boy noticing several cuts and bruises she'd received from her forceful travels... He reaches out, and uses the power he discovered while the held off the Grimm.

The power that let mere kids like them fight and barely make up the difference her Ex-Husbands absence... His Semblance, Aura Amplification, every doctor had told her her disease wasn't treatable because her body simply lacked the strength to fight it, her immune system was too too compromised and her body too fragile by that point to maintain.

But Jaune's power, it's strength was one of a nature to empower others, to share with them his strength, his vigor, his will and soul, and Jaune wouldn't stop sharing his strength until it was enough to save her!

It was the logic of a simply youth, if he could kill monsters as big as Grimm, he refused to let small ones so tiny and weak take one of his friends moms! The same woman who told him he could be a huntsman! No! That said it was his duty to be one! Well What Kinda Huntsman Couldn't Save a mother!

5.) Rinko Iori (Gundam... Apparently -///-)

I...I did not know she was from a anime... I firmly thought she was a hentai mom... But no, apparently she is from Gundam. Well, I think I've said enough and these pictures hopefully speak for themselves...

I'd say she is a Argus mom, and helped Saphron and Terra navigate raising their first kid.

6.) Mirelia Q Melromarc

She Is A Queen! (Literally!) but no... Like seriously she is best girl, she showed up and everything, oh everything just turned pure euphoria for me. And God Damn She hated her husband! I wish they went more in on how thoroughly pissed she was in the anime like they did in the light novel.

Seriously a fucked up daughter and husband... just... Fuck man, and seriously FUCK BITCH For What She did! (If you read the Web Novel you know what I'm talking about) And fuck Trash too! Y'know it was so he could have a redemption Arc.

Fuck that, as far as I'm concerned those two need death like I need air. Naofumi is her (Only) daughter's fiancée. Which means she's in need of a new consort, a noble, strong, kind one who has a sharp wit.