#He tries it on all innocent but then likes the way it looks and feels and he is like OH

[comatosebunny09]

carpe noctem [ preface ] | sylus

— summary: whatever they have is cosmic. which is why you quietly bow out, thinking you never stood a chance. — cw: reader is not mc, assassin!reader, unrequited feelings, mentions of burned bodies, mentions of blood & injuries, jealousy, stream of conciousness, mdni — notes: shout out to @alfredosaws, @cheshireworld, and @midiplier for inspiring this! thank you for reading! here's a playlist to keep you entertained! — now playing: abracadabra - brown eyed girls

“Did you see that?!”

A smirk crooks your lips. 

You watch the source of excitement in your periphery, her mirth infectious. You pat the space between her shoulder blades, the other hand stuffed in your pocket, pride swelling in your chest. The SUV eases into focus, a sleek outline of black, haloed by the sun’s deceptively innocent glow.

“I did.”

Her eyes brighten like stars shining in the inky night. She punches at the air—a reenactment of the moves she displayed during your scuffle inside the warehouse. It burns a pretty blend of orange and yellow behind, flames licking a cyan sky, smoke billowing from squealing metal. Carnage you left behind after a deal gone sour, structure and bodies turned to cinder, courtesy of one nefarious mafioso with a bomb fetish. 

She flexes her bicep, fixing you with a grin that’s all canines. “I was pretty badass, huh?”

You quirk a brow, quietly giving her props. 

A chuckle erupts from behind you both. You don’t look back. His presence is ever-present. Imposing, towering over your shoulder, oozing smugness. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, kitten.” 

He says it to humble her. To keep her head from overinflating, but you don’t miss the affection surfing in the undercurrents of his voice. It always lives there when he chides her. 

You can’t blame him. She’s come a long way: Ms. Hunter. 

Initially, she feared being roped in with the lot of you. Rejected the lifestyle of doing very bad things to equally bad people. She eventually found her niche, and you unconsciously took her under your wing, treating her like something of a sibling—a friend.

You knew she wasn’t going anywhere any time soon. Sylus made that clear. Cryptic as ever, forcing her onto you, refusing to tell you everything. Only that she owed him a debt, and he brought her around to collect.

At first, you despised the arrangement. She was a thorn in your side, the bane of your existence. Her very presence threatened the hodgepodge life you constructed with your makeshift family—Luke, Kieran, Mephisto, Sylus.

She was too nice. Reckless. Too self-righteous, where you were calculative. A manipulator, a killer. Your hands dripped red while hers were delicate as orchid petals. But she had Sylus wrapped around her finger—a feat you struggled to conquer for years. The man was playing Kitty Cards and sneaking plushies into the manor, for crying out loud. Besides, you couldn’t deny how she squirmed her way through the fissures of your own heart, nestling between atriums and ventricles like she’d always belonged there. 

You found yourself quietly rooting for them—your big, bad wolf of a boss and his precious little lamb. The affection blooming between them was palpable, like datura petals drifting in an errant breeze. Though an official title never revealed itself to you, you sensed whatever bond they shared was cosmic. Something you couldn’t touch or disrupt no matter how hard you tried. So you wordlessly conceded, bowing out of a competition you constructed in your mind. 

You were content with protecting her. Showing her the ropes, knowing in the back of your mind she would one day replace you. You were slowly becoming old news, no longer the center of Sylus’ orbit. It was fitful, but it was nice to see him smile like that for a change. To see this side of him, smitten with his defenses buried beneath the rubble, and you supposed that was enough for you. 

At least this way, you could remain by his side. Fulfill your own obligations, continuing to serve him, even if it means watching the world you’ve grown so accustomed to slowly fall away from your feet. 

“You did a good job,” you say, disrupting the slurry of your thoughts, a fond hand ruffling her hair, eyes creased at the corners. 

You usher the Hunter into the passenger seat of the SUV. She’s still buzzing in the aftermath of your fight as you shut the door, a chuckle roiling in your chest. You turn to ease into the backseat, but Sylus is there, wearing that customary smirk, holding the rear door open for you instead. 

“You both did well.”

The look you toss at him is suspicious. Raised brows and a sardonic curve to your lips. There’s more to his praise than he lets on, handing it out like a rare bouquet, usually reserved for her. Sylus merely shrugs, feigning innocence, his intentions shielded behind dark lenses. You ease into the chilled leather seat, the swell of noise from the fire traded for Ms. Hunter animatedly recounting the day’s events when the door shuts beside you.

You lapse into monotony, watching plumes of smoke fade in the rearview mirror as the three of you ease onto the highway. Sylus’ hand is tight on the steering wheel. Long, spindly fingers wrapped around coarse leather. His voice is bold like black coffee, warming your innards on a wintry day, as he and Ms. Hunter exchange words you can’t be bothered to follow up front. Occasionally, scarlet eyes catch yours in the mirror. It’s as if he’s keeping tabs on you, ensuring you’re still here. Like you’re poised to tuck and roll out the backseat, driven by how comfortably they speak with each other.

Physically, you’re present. Mentally, you’re drifting off. Watching power lines skate by, blurring with the skyline and mountains as the vehicle slides downhill. Maybe you’re more exhausted than you initially thought. You’d taken a hit or two in the fray earlier. Have blood speckling the ivory collar of your shirt, a scrape lining your jaw, and you’re sure you’ll have pretty splotches of blue and purple staining the corner of your mouth come tomorrow. 

Pain is usually an afterthought. You’re so used to shielding, so accustomed to recklessly throwing your body around, and the adrenaline’s ebbing, making way for the dull throb of a migraine and sleepiness dangling like sandbags from your upper lids. You lean against the door, propped on your elbow, temple roosted on swollen knuckles. You blink slowly, your heart beating steady until the scenery beyond the window makes way for darkness. You won’t be at the hotel for another hour. A little catnap won’t hurt. 

Before you fully relinquish yourself to the pretty girls of sleep, an enthusiastic voice peels through the inkiness. Static against a violet backdrop, tugging a quiet smile onto your lips. Ms. Hunter.   

“We should celebrate!”

We should, you muse, sinking below the shadowy depths of sleep, lured there by the bumping of the SUV against the road and Sylus fondly teasing the source of your envy.

[aemondapologistfrfr]

Is it broken?

aemond x betrothed!f!reader

Summary: Aemond finds out just how much care you need in the mornings. 

Warnings: 18+ innocent reader testing aemond’s composure, bathing, masturbation(f), fingering, oral(f), humping, slight cum play, unintentional edging and teasing bc aemond is fighting to hold onto his control he fails every time

Authors Note: my first aem request from @jacaerysonlywife 🥹💞 apparently i’m giving my innocent readers a soft pink mood board and ykw it’s what they deserve 🤗 i put some plot in this bc i can’t help myself when it comes to this man 

Word Count: 4.4k

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Every morning Aemond has the same routine of waiting outside of your chambers for you to greet him with a smile. Today he was able to spend an extra couple of minutes training because of your morning bath. After every bath he listens to your complaints of your handmaidens not seeing to all of your needs. He’s tried to help you come up with what to tell them but you still come to him with a fresh pout. The only way he can make you feel better is give you a hug and take you to the gardens.

You’re a little later than normal, not that he minds, he hopes your handmaidens have finally gotten something right. He leans against the wall fiddling with the hilt of his dagger waiting for you to come out and join him. He sighs when he sees your company of handmaidens walk out of your chambers with red faces.They avoid his gaze and wait to the side of the door as he walks up to it before turning back to them.

“Is she ready?” he asks lowly.

“No, my Prince.” one of them whispers. 

“Why not?” he sighs.

“She’s not happy. She won’t say. She told us to come get you.” he clenches his jaw at their words. 

How hard could it possibly be to bathe you? He knocks softly on your door before stepping into your chambers and softly clicking the door shut behind him. He looks around your chambers and his eye stops when he finds you still in the tub. His steps are slow and deliberate as he watches you sink lower into the water. He stops and grabs a stool to take a seat next to the tub. You scoot closer to the lip and rest your arms on it looking up at him with a small frown. 

“Why do you keep kicking your handmaidens out?” he hums, brushing your hair back over your shoulder. 

“They don’t know what I like.” you pout when he takes his hand away from you. 

“Did you tell them what we came up with?” he tilts his head picking up the cloth that’s resting over the tub, deciding to finish bathing you himself.

“No.” you whisper, shaking your head. 

“How are they going to know what you want then, sweet girl? Hm?” he sighs, reaching for your hand to begin washing you. 

“I don’t know.” your voice small as you look up at him. “Can you tell them to get my oils and my soaps?” you grab his hand. “This is just water that’s tepid.” you purse your lips and he dips his fingers in the water. 

“Mm,” his finger trails up your arm leaving droplets and goosebumps in their wake. “Is there anything else you need?” his eye meets yours and he tries to avoid looking at your heaving chest from his touch. He knows he should leave and call your handmaidens back in but he can’t find it in himself to go.

“Milk for my bath.” you whisper. 

“I’ll tell them.” he nods. “When they come back with what you desire I’ll let them bathe you.” he presses his lips to your forehead. “Then we’ll go on our morning walk.” he starts to rise. 

“Aemond,” your voice a plea as you reach out for his hand. “Can you?” you chew your lip. 

“Can I what?” he watches as you play with his fingers. 

“Bathe me. Your touch is softer.” you bring his hand to your mouth and press your lips against it. “Please,” your soft plea is music to his ears and he nods once. He doesn’t care if it’s indecent, you’ll both be wed by the end of the month.

“I’ll be right back.” he walks to the door and cracks it open and sees your handmaidens still waiting with their hands folded and heads down. “My betrothed requires soaps and oils, not just warm water. Bring another bucket of steaming water along with some milk and petals. Surely it’s not that hard to figure out what she needs.” he hisses, watching as their heads lower even more. “Go on then, with haste.” he clicks his tongue before sealing himself back in your chambers with you. 

“Thank you.” you watch as he slowly walks back over to you. “Can you just bathe me from now on?” you blink up at him as he stares down at you. 

“I’ll tell your handmaidens what you like.” his eye trails over the length of your body and he groans as you reach your hand up for him. 

“I want you, Aemond.” you grab for his hand. “Please, please, Aem,” you pull his hand down to you and he grunts taking a seat on the stool. “Aemond, please,” you get on your knees and he inhales sharply as he’s greeted by your breasts, willing his cheeks not to flush.

“I’ll see-“ a quick succession of knocks has Aemond standing up. “Lay back down.” he nods at you before going to the door and letting your handmaidens in with the baskets and buckets. They leave the extra supplies near the tub and are out the door before you can even offer them a small thanks. 

“What did you tell them to bring?” your eyes look over the baskets. 

“Hot water.” he picks up the bucket and empties it into your bath and you lean back, sighing as the warmth licks up your body. “Milk as you requested.” he trickles it down the length of the bath and watches you squirm as the cool liquid mixes with the water. “Your soaps and oils.” he brings the basket to the side to let you shuffle through and smell them. 

“I like this one best.” you place a small jar of sweet smelling soap in his hand. 

“And what oil would you like?” he tilts his head. 

“I don’t know yet. That’s for after the bath.” you look up at him and he chuckles softly. 

“Of course, I should’ve known.” he nods his head. “I had them bring some petals for you.” he brings the small box to the bath and takes his seat on the stool again. 

“Thank you,” your soft tone causes him to internally groan. 

He spreads the petals throughout the water and watches you mix everything together in the water. He picks up the cloth, adding soap to it and slowly starts to clean you watching you lean back against the tub. When he gets to your legs you allow him to lift them out of the water one at a time. He only washes up to your mid thigh not trusting himself enough to go further. You pout when he puts both of your legs back in the water and starts washing your back. 

“You missed a spot.” you turn your head to look at him. 

“Where did I miss?” he chuckles at your furrowed brow. 

“Between my thighs.” you grab his hand with the cloth. 

“I'm not supposed to go between your thighs, sweet girl.” his eye darkens as you pull his hand under the water.

“Why not?” you pout. “My handmaidens clean me there.” his back straightens when you brush his fingers against your center.

“Okay, okay,” he steels himself. “Let go of my wrist and I’ll take care of you.” you bring your hand back up to your chest and watch his face as he slowly slides the cloth against you. Aemond can’t help but let his fingers slide up your slit after the cloth and watch your cheeks flush. “Like this?” he hums and you nod your head.

“They’re usually less- Aem,” your hand reaches for his wrist again as he abandons the cloth and slides his fingers through your slit, unable to help himself. “Aemond,” you whine as your thighs clamp around his hand and he watches you suck your lip into your mouth. “Feels so- yes,” he groans at your soft whimper when he brushes against your bud. 

“Shh, shh,” his fingers swirl around your bud and your fingers dig into his wrist. He scolds himself and starts to pull his hand out from between your thighs. He knows he shouldn’t have even been in this position in the first place but you tug his hand back down. “What are you wanting me to do?” his voice strained. 

“I don’t know,” you whimper as his finger trails down your slit once more. “Feels so good Aem,” he watches your body tremble as he brings his fingers back up to your bud. “Mm, right there, yes,” your soft pleas go straight to his cock. 

“I should stop.” he brings his lip between his teeth watching you arch out of the milky water. 

“No, please don’t stop.” you hold his arm under the water. “Aemond please,” you gasp as he circles his fingers faster making the water start to slosh. The warm feeling in your stomach coils and your hips start to roll against his hand. “Why?” you let out a soft cry as he starts to remove his hand.

“Let me finish washing your hair and get you out.” he pulls his hand out of the water despite how you claw at him. He shakes his head at himself that he allowed his control to slip and touch you so intimately before your wed. Despite that fact, he desperately wants to hear more of your noises. 

“Aem, it hurts.” you put your hand under the water to replace his and gasp as you copy his movements. “Oh,” you gasp, feeling the difference in wetness from the water. “Aemond,” his name falls from your mouth breathlessly and he readjusts himself in his trousers. 

“Leave your little cunny alone.” he tsks pulling your hand from between your legs. “Lean back and let me wash your hair.” you whine, squeezing your thighs together as you do as he says.

Aemond has no idea how to steel himself for the rest of your bath if you’re going to keep up with your pouting and whining. He slowly trickles the water down your hair and listens to your soft hums as he runs his fingers through your hair. You slip your hand beneath the water hoping to recreate the feeling Aemond was offering you with his fingers. You start to squirm and tremble as he washes the soap out of your hair. 

“Aemond,” you whine as your hips chase your fingers. He flares his nostrils seeing your hand under the water once more.

“Gods,” Aemond groans, pulling your hand out of the water. “What did I say?” he stands and you look up at him with flushed cheeks. 

“But it hurts.” you whimper and he pulls you out of the bath and wraps you in a towel. “Is my cunny broken?” you turn and look up at him as he starts to rub the towel against you.

“No, it’s not broken.” he chuckles, walking you over to your wardrobe. 

“How do you know? You haven’t even looked at it.” he clenches his jaw and closes his eye to try and collect himself but when he looks down at you once more you have your towel dropped to the floor. “Can you check, Aem?” he watches you lay back on your chaise. 

“I’m not supposed to until after we wed.” he groans as you pull your legs up to your chest. 

“But you can touch it?” you tilt your head and his eye widens. “Please. Do you want them open like this?” you spread your legs apart. 

“Gods, you’re going to kill me.” he watches your slit glisten in the morning light. 

“If you won’t check can you call someone else in? Maybe a maester? I don’t know Aem, please.” you reach out for him. 

“I’m not calling a maester to come and play with your cunny.” he shakes his head at the thought. 

“Tell me how to make it feel better then.” you bring your fingers down between your legs and trail them up your slit. “Aemond please,” you look at him with flushed cheeks. “Your fingers felt better.” your body trembles as you swirl around your bud. 

“I shouldn’t.” his voice low and he knows he’s going to give in soon. He watches your legs start to shake around your hand as you start to move your fingers faster. His name is on your lips like a prayer and he decides he wants to make you come for the first time and for the rest of time. 

“Aemond,” your plea breaks his will and he’s on his knees in front of you pulling your hand away. 

“Let me check for you, sweet girl.” he looks up at you and you nod your head quickly. “Show me where it hurts.” he watches you nibble your lip and point to your bud. “Shall I kiss it to see if that makes it feel better?” he spreads your legs more, softly squeezing the flesh of your thighs. 

“You want to kiss my cunny?” you squirm as he dips his head down. 

“I would like nothing more.” his eye flicks up to you. “But I’m asking you. Would you like me to kiss your aching cunny?” his breath fans over your center and you scoot closer to his mouth and he chuckles. 

“Yes.” you nod. “Please,” you squeak when he presses his lips to your thighs. He watches you dig your fingers into your blankets the closer he gets to your core. “Aemond,” you cry when he licks his tongue up your slit. 

He circles your bud and your breath catches when he starts to flick his tongue quickly. His lips encase your bud and you whimper above him rolling your hips against his face. He chuckles at your soft gasps and relishes in the way that you grind against him. He licks down to your core and pushes his tongue in and groans at your sweet taste. 

“Aem,” one of your hands grabs onto his that’s gripped on your hip when he licks back up to your bud and lashes against it quickly. “Mm, I- Aem, something’-“ he listens to your broken words as your body jolts. He licks faster and your whimpers become more high pitched. “Aemond please, I-“ intense pleasure washes through you and you hold onto his hands as if you're falling. He licks at you softly before moving back and looking at your heaving chest. 

“How does your cunny feel now, sweet girl?” he chuckles as you grab on his arms and pull him up to your lips. “Yeah? Did that feel good?” he mumbles against your lips slowly molding to you. His tongue slips into your mouth at the same time his fingers slide through your wetness. You whine into his mouth as his fingers start to swirl around you faster. 

“More.” you grab his hand and push it further down. “It hurts inside now.” you whine against his mouth and he groans. 

“Let’s get you dressed and see if it’ll stop.” you whimper as he lifts up from you and you wrap your arms around him, clinging to him. “Sweet girl.” he tries to keep his voice firm but it falters when you curl against him as he stands up with you. He has no choice but to hold your ass and he groans as you wrap your legs around him and bury your head in his neck.

“Aemond please,” you whine. “I think my cunny is begging for you.” his heart starts to beat faster and you squirm in his arms. 

“What about your oils? I had them brought up here.” he tries to coax you into doing something else. 

“After my oils then?” you press your lips to his neck. 

“We’ll see.” he chuckles as you start to untangle from him. He sets you down and you look up at him with a soft pout. “Enough with the pouting.” he grabs your chin. 

“Aem,” your voice dripping with need. 

“Go pick out an oil.” he turns you around and scoots you over to the basket. He’s thankful for the minute reprieve because if he doesn’t readjust his cock he’s sure it’ll split out of his trousers from how hard he is. 

“I picked this one.” you hum and walk over to him. 

“Remind me where we put this.” he plucks the jar from your fingers. 

“Everywhere.” you smile up at him. “It keeps me soft.” you step closer to him. 

“Very well.” he hums and twists the lid off. “Arm.” he holds his hand out for you. He tips the jar slightly and you jump when it meets your skin. 

“It’s cold.” you look up at him with furrowed brows. 

“It’ll warm up when I rub it in.” he nods slightly and gently massages the oil into your arm. He repeats the process on your next arm and he starts to kneel down to your legs when you stop him. 

“Aem you keep missing places.” you sigh loudly. 

“My apologies.” he chuckles. “Where have I missed now?” he watches you with a smile. 

“My chest.” his eye widens when you grab your breasts. He clears his throat and nods once. He brings the jar to your neck and slowly lets the oil drip down your chest and tries to calm his breathing. He watches your nipples harden as the oil meets them and you clench your legs. “Rub it in. It’s cold.” he can’t take his eye off your breasts. 

“Yeah, okay.” he nods, swallowing. He brings his hands to your breasts and stills. He startles slightly when your fingers wrap around his wrists and starts to move his hands. 

“Aem, you have to move your hands to rub the oil in.” you giggle. 

“Yes, I know, sweet girl.” he chews on his lip and starts to knead his hands into you. He spreads the oil up your neck and back down past your navel. His hands wrap around your waist before bringing them back up to engulf your breasts once more. He swipes his thumbs against your nipples and chuckles when you gasp. 

“Do that again.” you pant. He takes the hard peaks between his fingers and rolls them. “Oh,” you gasp. “More, Aem.” your breathing deepens as he softly pinches them. 

“No more.” he internally scolds himself for getting lost in you again. “I have to oil your legs now.” he removes his hands to grab the jar once more. He kneels down before you and drips some oil into his hands and starts to massage it into your legs. He makes sure to go to the tops of your thighs so you don’t pout that he ‘missed’ a spot. He even goes as far to rub some oil into your ass trying his hardest to ignore your pleas. “Let’s get you dressed.” he stands and leads you to the wardrobe. 

“But Aem my cunny needs-

“I need you to get some type of covering on. Even if it's just a slip. Sweet girl,” he sighs. “It’s hard for me to control myself around you right now.” you look up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Why?” you whisper. 

“Go sit on your chaise and I’ll start bringing things over to you.” he exhales shakily and walks over to your wardrobe. He grabs out a pair of stockings and stops when he hears you whine. “What’s wrong?” he prompts.

“I want my pink ones.” he nods at your whisper, not trusting himself to turn to you. He starts to pull a slip down when he hears you whine again. 

“Use your words. Tell me what you want.” he fists the silk of the current slip he’s holding. 

“I want a white slip. That pink one doesn’t match my stockings.” you chew your lip as he pulls down your white slip. 

“What color small clothes then?” he doesn’t even attempt to pick them out. 

“None. My cunny still hurts.” he closes his eye trying to find the restraint not to walk over to you and flip you over and take you. 

“Which dress would you like?” he trails his fingers across the line of dresses hanging. 

“I want to match you.” your words sink into his chest. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in a black dress.” he chuckles thinking about it. “Do you even have one?” he looks around your wardrobe. 

“I do.” you get up and walk over to him. “It’s in the back there.” you point and he pushes the other dresses aside. “I had them make it for me. See it has darker blue for your sapphire and some silver because you like to train with swords. I was going to have them add some green for Vhagar but I think she deserves her own dress.” you look up at him and see his red cheeks. 

“I don’t..” he shakes his head. He never expected you to have a dress made that reminds you of him. “You’re too sweet to me.” he whispers and you pull him against you in a tight hug. 

“No I'm not.” you cup his face and bring him down to your lips. His hands rest on your waist and squeezes softly into your skin. 

“Let’s get you dressed.” he pulls back and sinks to his knees before you once more. He would never be on his knees for anyone else and the sight of you looking down upon him could send him down to his hands too if you so desired. He grabs the first stocking and taps your calf. You lift up your leg and he slides it up your leg before placing a kiss on your knee. He repeats this action with your other leg and looks over you only clad in stockings. “Gods you’re so beautiful.” you flush at his words. 

“So are you.” you whisper, brushing his hair back. He stands and grabs the slip, waiting for you to lift your arms. He slides the silk over your body and groans that seeing you like this is even more indecent than when you were bare. 

“Can I put your dress on or is your cunny still hurting?” he straightens out the neckline of your slip. 

“It still hurts.” you whisper, stepping closer to him.

“Come on.” he tugs you over to the bed. “We’re going to try something.” you nod your head quickly trailing after him. 

“Does your cock hurt too?” he stops at your words. “It’s been pushing against your trousers for a bit now.” you pout, pressing your palm against him. “Are we broken?” you squeeze your hand and he groans wrapping his fingers around your wrist. 

“We’re not broken.” he chuckles. “Go lay on the bed so we can make your cunny and my cock feel better.” he nods and watches you crawl into the center of the bed. 

“Can I see?” you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“See what?” he tilts his head. 

“Your cock, Aem.” you push your bottom lip out. “Please,” he’s undoing his belt at your words and you sit up and scoot towards him as he pushes them down enough to free himself. “I wanna-

“No, no,” he bats your hand away. “Lay back down, sweet girl.” he smiles when you listen and he crawls over you hoping that he has enough restraint to do this properly. “Gods,” he presses his forehead to yours when his tip slides up your slit. 

“Aemond,” your hands grip onto his shoulders as he slowly starts to slide up and down your slit. “Mm, Aem- yes,” your breathless pleas have him starting to hump against you faster trying to elicit more of your whimpers. 

“How does it feel?” he presses his lips to your neck while you squirm beneath him. Your hips buck up into his every time his tip brushes against your bud. He moves his hips faster listening to the sound of your wetness coat his length. “Tell me.” he smiles at your soft sounds. 

“Feels so good- I, Aem, please,” you tremble beneath him and he starts to move his cock through your wetness faster. “Aem it feels- something like,” your voice breaks into a soft cry. “Please,” you cling to him as you start to shake from your pleasure washing through you. 

“My cock thinks your cunny feels good too.” he smiles watching your face scrunch up as he becomes more coated as your pleasure pours out of you. He moves his hips faster looking for his own release. The sounds of your soft pleas and whimpers push him over the edge and his come starts to coat your cunny. 

“What’s this?” you reach down and swipe your thumb against his tip and he almost collapses on top of you as you rub his slit while he’s still coming. 

“Oh Gods, sweet girl.” he stills and grabs your hand. “It’s what I’m going to fill your sweet little cunny with once we’re wed.” you bring your hand up to your mouth and he watches you taste your mixed pleasure. 

“Why can’t you fill me with it now?” his cock twitches at your soft words.

“Stay here so I can clean us up.” he closes his eye and slowly stands up. He walks back over to the tub and grabs the discarded cloth. He wipes off his cock and situates himself before he walks back over to you on the bed. 

“Thank you.” you say softly as he wipes up your pleasure between your thighs. “Can we still go for a walk in the gardens?” you look up at him and he presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Of course we’re still going to the gardens. Let me help you dress.” he helps you up off the bed and at last, finally begins to lift your dress up your body. 

“Do you think my flowers have finally begun to bloom?” you turn and look up at him once your dress is laced up. 

“Let’s go see.” he offers you a soft smile as he intertwines your fingers and leads you out of your chambers. 

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masterlist 🔌 

i want him to take care of me in the morning 😔 

taglist ✍️

@ka1afbr @ninihrtss @daintylittlesunflower @primroseluna @alexxavicry @misspendragonsworld @papichulo120627 @ashovertheriver @gabriella-aesthetic @moonymoo1 @faenyra @uwuuness @lizzylovebooks280501 @nostalgiagoth03 @multilover19 @summer-and-sunflowers

[that-one-p00k1e]

─────〃★ for you, I wouldೃ⁀➷˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚

✧ summary: things they would do for you ft. Ren Kaji, Hajime Umemiya, Haruka Sakura, Hayato Suo, Jo Togame, Mitsuki Kiryu, Akihiko Nirei, Tasuku Tsubakino, Toma Hiragi, Yamato Endo, Chika Takiishi

✧ content: fluff, gn!reader (I think), OOC most likely, established!relationship, not proofread I'm sorry, tsubakino's pronouns are confirmed he/him ��� a/n: HAAAAPPPYYYYY NNNNNEEEWWW YYYYEEAAARRR BBBBIITTCHHESSSSS😝😝😝😝 six months since I last posted omg-! I'm still alive! 😍 tysm for the support while I'm gone ily'all <33

—REN KAJI would turn off his music and pull down his headphones to listen to you ramble. Though he had his attention to his phone, he'd give silent nods and hums here and there to let you know that he was listening. Occasionally, he'd throw in little comments and questions regarding the topic you were telling. Little to your knowledge, your rambles to him were like taking notes. He'd mentally highlight things that he thought were important, and would keep it in mind in the future. He's the type to look nonchalant, but deep down, he cares more than he lets on. “... What's wrong?” he asked as he heard you abruptly stop talking. “Forget it.. You're not even listening.” You looked away in disappointment, letting out a quiet sigh. “But I have been listening,” he tried to reassure, feeling slightly guilty for making you feel neglected. “Really? Then repeat all the things I've been saying.” He, in fact, did repeat most things you've mentioned and justified his word.

—HAJIME UMEMIYA would gift you random bouquets every week, as if he hasn't gifted you enough already. What's special about his bouquets is that you can never guess the theme for the week. First, he started off classic – flowers, with the consideration of them being fake so that you'd be able to keep them forever. Then, he brought you a bouquet of snacks and sweets that he knew were your favorite. Next thing you knew, he's giving you a bouquet of money he's been secretly saving up on. You felt guilty; guilty for the effort he's been putting, just for you to return it with some unprofessional homemade baked goods. It felt unfair. But does he sail on the same boat? No. He's going to reassure you that he expects nothing in return, and that you being there for him and loving him was what all he ever wanted and needed.

—HARUKA SAKURA would spend his free time struggling to assemble a Lego flower bouquet set after learning about White Day. He wanted to return your gesture of gifting him during Valentine's, despite himself denying such intention. It took a lot of effort, in both figuring out what to get while fearing you wouldn't like it –to the point that he would even call over Nirei and Suo for help – and in building the tiny pieces of bricks after settling on a final decision for the gift. He persisted to build it himself, no matter how much his friends offered to help. He wanted to make sure it was his work purely, done with his own hands. The whole process was frustrating, infuriating, and was basically a test of patience. But after seeing how you kept the received bouquet in a glass vase – delicately treasuring it on your bedroom display – he has never felt so proud yet flustered his whole life.

—HAYATO SUO would waltz into the café without a care in the world while having scattered lipstick stains decorating his face. Moreover, it wasn't your idea in the first place– it was his. Your relationship wasn't out yet, and he thought, what better way to publish it than announcing it wordlessly but gives double the impact? “Hm? Oh, this? It's my beloved’s artwork. Do you like it?” he'll innocently ask when someone questions the visible lip prints. Sakura was a blushing mess, and Suo was very much enjoying the look of bewilderment from others as they received the unspoken news. This was the reaction he wanted. This was what boosted his pride furthermore in being your boyfriend, and he'd shamelessly do it again to show off his love for you to the world.

—JO TOGAME would be your personal walking object holder. He'd take your bag and sling it over his shoulder with you needless to say; he'd keep hair bands around his wrist in case you decided to tie your hair up; he'd hold your shopping bags throughout your journey at the mall. Never were you the one to request his aid first, and never has he complained about being tired. He'd even go barefoot just to lend you his footwear when your feet start to hurt in heels. Moreover, he'd carry you bridal along the way. Despite you worrying over him tiring himself, he persisted to keep ahold of you. He loves seeing you enjoy life without a care in the world, and he'd do anything to carry burdens that dare to get in the way of that enjoyment.

—MITSUKI KIRYU would deliberately lose in a game of UNO and let you take the victory when he could've won decades ago. The whole time the both of you were playing, he's been holding a Wild and Draw 4 but refrained from using them. Instead, he kept drawing cards and just went yolo to buy time. Though he always played fair, seeing your dejected expression after losing many rounds this time was a little too unbearable for him. He promised himself for once, just this once will he let himself take a loss. He knew it wouldn't be fair, but if it meant that he'll get to see you smile in victory, then he doesn't find any problem with that.

—AKIHIKO NIREI would write down even the littlest of details about you that were thrown at him. You'd be casually mentioning a trivial preference as a ramble, but never had he pulled out his notebook and pen so quickly. During his early stages of getting to know you, he made sure to memorize everything you told him about yourself; your favorite color, favorite food, dream place to go, he even looked up your zodiac sign after knowing your birth date. He doesn't mean it in a creepy way. In fact, it was his way to know how to get closer to you. Despite already having the skill to remember it all, he likes to write it down to make sure as well as for keepsake. Thanks to that, now he has a cheat sheet on how to make you smile.

—TASUKU TSUBAKINO would wear himself a nail polish color that reminds him of you. Or, moreover, your favorite color. He loved being stylish, and what better way to do it than having at least a part of you involved in it? He'd walk proudly in his heels that you got him as a gift, and was even more ecstatic if someone complimented them, proud that your taste in fashion was appreciated by others. He'd ask to trade manicures with you for a date, where the both of you choose a nail look for each other. But if you weren't into painting nails, he'll ask you to choose a look for him instead. On special or fancy occasions, he'd often wear your fav lip combo or makeup look, as he treasures your choices and views them as something precious and only to be used when necessary.

—TOMA HIRAGI would pull up to the function wearing either a Hello Kitty or Kuromi tee under his gakuran jacket. Was it his personal choice to do it? Clearly not. Was it his choice to willingly wear it for the sake of his beloved significant other? Very much so. After many attempts of pleading, he caved in and (begrudgingly) agreed to your whole ‘matching outfits’ idea. He ate a pill or two when he saw how he looked in the mirror. Then ate two more when he finally appeared in public, especially at how much Umemiya and the others teased him for it. It was embarrassing, but was it worth it? No questions needed. The beaming smile you immediately wore when seeing him agree to your shenanigans, was enough proof that it was all – undoubtedly – worth it.

—YAMATO ENDO would revel in the feeling of being the center of your attention as you placed stickers and colored in his tattoos or drew silly doodles along his body. He liked the feeling of flexing himself while having you express your inner artist onto him. He'd think of himself as your muse; the art and the artist. Once you were done, he'd be extremely careful with doing activities, afraid of your artwork smudging off at the slightest touch. Even during the shower, he makes sure not to wipe it with full pressure. He considered turning it into an actual tattoo, really. Because it would mean that he'd get to keep something of yours to be a part of him, eternally.

—CHIKA TAKIISHI would let you do his hair as you please. He was one to outright reject the idea of someone touching him, but you – you had the privilege to do as you please to him without him raising a finger to stop you. You had him wrapped around your delicate fingers, his head leaning into your touch as you smoothly ran your hands through his long locks of red that met its ends with yellow. When he saw that you did your hair the same way as his, a flicker of surprise reflected on his eyes. Though he tried to come off as indifferent, he was secretly pleased to acknowledge the fact that the both of you were matching. He'd spend the whole day with you while wearing those matching hairstyles, not caring about how others would think of him. All he could focus on was how ethereal you looked in your current look. In fact, he always thought you looked beautiful in any shape and form of physical aspects.

[cosmicalily]

"baby, you can have it" - a jeongin oneshot by @cosmicalily

"an inch away from more than just friends, touch me, baby, put your lips on mine." - 'naked in manhattan' by chappell roan

author's note: another situation where i normally gatekeep the fuck out of my queer anthems (in the context of writing non-wlw fics for them), but the whole 'an inch away from more than just friends' felt SO relevant in the context of this oneshot. go stream 'the rise and fall of a midwest princess'. go listen to 'casual' and cry. it's good for you!

warnings: nudity, suggestive (the most that occurs is a makeout, nothing more)

You hadn't been able to stop yourself.

Why couldn't you have just remained a normal friend, his best friend?

Why were you spending hours, analysing the simplest things that he did, things that made your heart flutter, scream, and slingshot all the way to the moon and back? Spin around Saturn, melt through the heat of the sun and settle back in your chest, a mess of thoughts and emotions, innocent and otherwise.

The way he ate the strawberry liquorice he loved so much; his pink tongue pointed and sticking out occasionally to brush his lower lip as he savoured the candy.

The way he'd drag you home with him almost each night after school, hand you a cherry cola, and you'd spend hours playing video games and talking and laughing. Sometimes, Jisung would join you, but those evenings you got Jeongin all to yourself were something you treasured. And sometimes, those nights would end with more than just you kissing him on the cheek goodbye. Some mornings, you’d wake up, sprawled across his chest, the ghost of his lips on your neck, and the aching feeling of missing something. The feeling that even if he held your hand all the way to school, where you’d enter class together and apologise in unison for being late, he could slip away oh so easily.

The way he had made a habit of sketching little stars in a blue ballpoint pen around the few freckles that dotted your arm.

You looked down at your skin. There were still faded sketches dotting your arm, blue ink melting into your skin. Ghosts of the drawings he’d done yesterday; slowly disappearing but still very much so there.

Of course there were other girls. Girls who’d message him day after day, ask for his Snapchat, stick post-it notes onto his locker and cling to his arm in the hallway.

He tried not to pay too much attention to them; the occasional smile and ‘hey’, not to be rude, not to be unkind, but never responding to their affection, to their endless babble.

Jeongin was made to be a high school crush. He had bleached hair with the slightest hint of pink to it, sharp, fox-like features, contrasting wildly with his soft, dimpled cheeks, frequently flushed with a peach tinge.

You sometimes wondered why he gave you the time of day. Jeongin, although he wasn’t necessarily the most popular guy, was known across your grade and even the years above. He was older than almost everyone in the year level; an early birthday had originally granted him a move up to twelfth grade, but he’d opted against it. His friends were all in the year above, and whilst he still sometimes sat with them at break times, he’d decided to go for you.

“He hardly sits with us anymore,” Jisung mumbled to you, after Jeongin had passed out on the couch, head in your lap, arms around your waist. 

“I know. I keep asking him why. He says he sees you guys enough.”

Jisung looked down at Jeongin’s babyish expression as he slept, face pressed against your stomach. “Or he’s in love with you,” Jisung had reasoned, ruffling your hair and giving Jeongin’s arm a pinch before leaving.

You’d looked down at the pile of Jeongin lying before you; sleepy, clingy and oh so angelic. His features looked softer in the dim light, and his eyelashes fluttered every few seconds.

Every soft breath against your stomach made your heart swell, and you wished, just for a moment, that he’d say it out loud. Admit to it. 

There were times where you were almost certain. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent. Catching him staring at you from your vanity mirror as you did your eyeliner, his hands slipping around your waist as you sat on the bathroom counter bleaching his hair, the soft kisses to your cheek that he’d offer you when you were crying.

That wasn’t platonic, was it? It couldn’t be.

You looked down at your arms, admiring the faded stars again. There was one in particular, a little larger than the rest. It wasn’t really a star anymore. His hand must have slipped. You craned your neck a little closer, getting a better look at the smudge of blue ink.

A heart.

You breathed out a little, and Jeongin’s eyes fluttered open.

You stroked his hair softly, hoping he’d fall back asleep, but he sat up, looking into your eyes. 

You felt so overwhelmed by him, but in the most beautiful way possible. By his sparkling eyes and his sweet face, the soft scent of his skin, and finally,

His lips on yours.

The way they moved in harmony, the way his tongue slipped in gently, not dominating your mouth, but exploring it. Curiously, like he wanted to get to know the parts of you that he hadn’t been able to. The parts that exceeded the confines of platonic love.

His hands were on your cheeks, your shoulders, your hips, your waist, gentle, fluid movements that sent shivers down your spine. There was a calm desperation about his actions, a need to search for more, to find another patch of skin he hadn’t seen or ran his fingers across yet. 

And when the two of you broke apart in a daze, chests heaving, sweat glossing over your skin, he hooked his fingers through the straps of your camisole, looking at you intently and giving you a moment to protest. When you nodded eagerly, he pulled off your tank top with one movement, one hand on the fabric, the other smoothing your hair to avoid it getting tangled. But once it was off, he didn’t grope or squeeze or touch.

Not that he would've without making sure you wanted it, even if he felt sure. Ninety-nine-point-nine-nine percent wasn't one hundred, after all. He wanted you to be sure, because he was sure. And he was sure as hell that he didn't want to hurt you, not when he had you like this.

Not when you struggled to keep your lovedrunk eyes open, exhaustion creeping through your veins.

So he laid your body down to rest on the sofa, chest-down, and pulled a blue-ink ballpoint pen from his back pocket.

“That tickles,” you giggled, squirming a little as Jeongin settled himself behind you and began drawing on your bare skin.

“I wanna give you all the stars, baby,” he mumbled, sketching. His fingers were hot but the metal tip of the pen was cool on your back. The patterns he traced and the galaxies he formed were soothing and repetitive, and you felt yourself drifting off.

And when you woke up, he was beside you, limbs wrapped around yours, lips pressed against your neck.

A faded imprint of the ink stars on your arms stamped onto his skin.

taglist: @hyunjiiza @velvetmoonlght @s3ungm1nxxl0ve @btch8008s @yaniluvs @ellemir2404 @bellarellasstuff @starsinagreenskyxx - comment, dm or send an ask to be added!

[scarletdreamers]

There ultimately is one question that bothers many when it comes to Will: Is Will Graham actually a bad person? (because no one knows what exactly swims around in the hot darkness of his mind, but I tried to sum it up anyway)

The thing about Will is that yes, he is certainly not a ‘good’ person. At least not after Hannibal started messing with his head, though I’m convinced Will never was in the first place. However, not only Will’s character, but pretty much the whole show is about the thin and multi-shaded line of good and bad. Moral and immoral. It’s exactly that blurry line that makes Will such an interesting protagonist. He is not the bad guy, neither is he the hero in his own story. He tried to play the roles of both (FBI agent vs killer), managed to fool even himself for a while, but Will knows very well who he is and what he was doing.

It’s an ancient question, isn’t it? What is good and what is bad? Are those two defined by societal norms and standards? Are they based on culture, religion, or is morality something personal? Something only you can decide for yourself? 

I’m going to include Hannibal here for a second, because when it comes to Hannibal, the last one of those options applies. The thing with Hannibal is that he has his own philosophies, his own ideals and morals. Hannibal constantly rivals God, claiming that he himself can’t be called evil because God does the same things and isn’t considered ‘’bad’’. Hannibal has his own borders and limits very straight. He can recognise plain cruelty, but the thing with Hannibal is that he is a very stylised manifestation of sin.

Hannibal is religious, though there might not be a specific religion or deity he believes in and he worships no higher beings, he does believe in the ‘’rules’’ of certain religions. He is well aware that he crosses most of those. They hold no value for him. He makes his own rules, plays his own game. In his world, there is no ‘’good’’ or ‘’bad’’ when it comes to actual crimes against humanity. A bad person is for him someone very rude, someone who lacks respect and manners. He doesn’t consider himself a ‘’good’’ person. He is something entirely else. A way of perceiving life and his own morality that no one except from Will can truly understand. 

Hannibal, however, is to us a bad person. He is the ‘’ultimate bad guy’’, because the way he feels about Will doesn’t excuse the rest of his behaviour. Hannibal is a sadist, a narcissist, a manipulative and awful man. He kills and feels no remorse for most if not all of his victims. For him killing is an art, a pleasure, he delights in it. For him, that is not as ‘’bad’’ or evil as it is for us (society), though he knows he is alone in that world. 

For that same reason, Hannibal doesn’t consider Will a bad person. He considers Will his equal. He knows that the both of them are deemed ‘’bad’’ people to the public, but that doesn’t matter in his world. In Hannibal’s mind, it’s just him and Will against the rest of the world. They are neither good nor evil. They simply are.

So back to Will, who understands Hannibal’s view of morality, but doesn’t necessarily think the same. If we look at it the same way as we looked at Hannibal, in a societal and common sense, yes, Will is a bad person. Can a stereotypically ‘’good’’ person like killing, even if it’s bad men? The satisfaction in killing, even if it’s a bad person, isn’t a moral thing. Someone truly ‘’good’’ would always choose punishment over murder. Then there’s also the fact that Will didn’t blink twice when he and Hannibal ate human meat and that he consumed it, knowingly, without a single complaint.

Will had no issues using innocent people (Chilton, Freddie Lounds, etc) to achieve his own goals. He is as (if not more) manipulative as Hannibal and is sometimes cruel in ways that even shocks the Chesapeake Ripper. Will made absurd sacrifices to get what he wanted, did things no stereotypically ‘’good’’ man would ever think of doing. Then I’m not even talking about maybe the simplest and most ordinary example of how little he actually cares for most things, which is his sweet wife, Molly (her son Walter, too). 

However, Will did try to be good. He tried very hard. He wanted to be a good person, to save people. Will can care for others in ways Hannibal can’t. Hannibal has no moral compass, Will does. A broken one, but he does. Will wants to help people more often than he wants to hurt them (The conversation with Bedelia about crushing or saving a wounded bird is a perfect example of this. So are his needs to save dogs and Abigail.) The thing about Will is that he desired to be good. He worked for the FBI, saved many lives, because he understands pain and suffering like no other. He doesn’t wish such horrid things upon innocent people. 

During the show, Will's morality is completely tied to Hannibal, so much that Hannibal himself and the stag even serve as metaphors for his corruption, while at the same time, his morality has nothing to do with Hannibal. Will always had dark urges. He always knew that there was something fundamentally wrong with him, with the things he wanted and was capable of doing. Perhaps that’s why he joined the police and later the FBI. He suppressed the worst of him by focusing on the best of himself. By forcing himself to save people through a job, he couldn’t afford to misbehave and do things he knew were wrong. Will’s fantasies, dreams and understanding of killers throughout the show make it very clear that he struggled with his own morality, even before Hannibal.

Then came, of course, Hannibal. Who fueled those urges and gave them attention. Who didn’t create them, but cared for them. Allowed them to sprout and grow until Will got entangled in such a web of situations and feelings that he couldn’t suppress them anymore. Hannibal forced Will to deal with who he really is, he broke Will’s shield. His costume, the same way Will did with Hannibal’s person suit. Hannibal is a ‘bad’ influence on Will because he brings out what’s always been inside him, but was repressed for years because Will was aware that society would label him a monster or a freak if he acted on those feelings. Will felt alone and alienated his entire life, of course he tried everything to not fall into a complete pit of loneliness and darkness. 

That was until Hannibal came into his life and Will realised that there was someone who understood him, who loved him for who he really was, even (especially) his ‘darker’ side. Someone who was like him. Who understood how he felt and didn’t see him as an immoral person because of it. Will spent his whole life understanding others, but Hannibal was the first person to actually understand him in return. 

Hannibal thinks Will’s ‘worst’ side is the most beautiful version of him. Will himself is torn between what Hannibal (the one person who understands and cares for him) and society (his upbringing, religion, anyone he ever met, norms and values) think of him. He doesn’t know what to believe. He knows he’s a bad person, he doesn’t try to make himself believe he isn’t. As I said, Will still has a moral compass, he’s self conscious about the things he does.

However, there is a great possibility that Hannibal changed Will’s perception of himself. That he made Will see that there’s no need to think of himself as a bad person. Just as a person. A human with urges and desires. Who can decide for themselves whether their actions are good or bad. Law is far beneath them at this point. In the end, Will and Hannibal navigate their own morality through their perceptions of their own actions. They both have a dislike for labels. Good and bad, moral and immoral, those are all labels society has forced upon humanity. Cruelty and kindness are not. Will knows very well when he’s cruel and when he’s kind.

So my conclusion is, yes, Will Graham is stereotypically a self-conscious yet immoral person. At the ending of the series after everything has happened, at least. 

But, I think that, just like Will himself, it’s up to you to decide whether he’s truly good or bad. Some people have other reasons to believe someone is one of the two than others. Some believe that if a person can love, or if they feel guilt or know what they’re doing, they aren’t a bad person. Others don’t. I think that’s entirely up to you to decide. It’s just what you like to believe, because believe me, to Will the line is just as blurry as it is to us. He is as unpredictable to Hannibal as he is for the audience. Will is a mystery of a character, certainly when it comes to his morality. And I think that that is exactly what makes him so fascinating.

[jjoongstar]

𝕷𝖎𝖙𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕾𝖔𝖚𝖑

➸pairing: grim reaper seonghwa x innocent fem reader

➸genre: fluff, angst

➸wc: 3.4k

➸warnings: none. mentions of nicknames. death

➸a/n: an apology post for being mia for a while (please forgive me). not proofread!😔🫂

you sat by the window seat in your bedroom, reading a book while you bask in the evening sun. a soft blanket over your lap to keep you cozy and a cushion behind your back. you were so into the story that you didn't bother on what's happening appearing, in your bedroom.

a tall dark figure appeared suddenly in your room and it approached behind you in silence. you sense the presence and looked over your shoulder right before the figure could touch you. its pale hand was near to your shoulder but it halted when you noticed its presence.

silence fills the air as you attentively tried to figure out, who or what even is this peculiar figure. tall and lean with a long black cloak that covers the top of its head and its whole body, only revealing its face and hands. you stare back at the eyes that bore into yours from the start. though he had an intimidating look, you didn't fear him at all. instead, you felt at ease with its aura.

"i really like your eyes,"

"what?" the unknown figure was taken aback by your words and he stumbled backwards a few steps.

its face contorts in a shocked expression and it felt its heart thump when you smile at it. it clutches the fabric of its robe over its chest, feeling the weird sensation. what the hell is this? i don't have a heart!

you marked the last page you read and place the book aside before you make small steps towards the unknown entity. your smile never falter as you reach up your hands and graze your fingers across its cheek. cold. his skin was iced cold on your fingertips. you saw how the entity hitched its breath upon your touch.

"you're so pretty too. who are you?" there was no response as it was still in a stunned state. you gasp when your brain connected the dots.

"are you perhaps… an angel?!"

"huh? EW NO!" it felt disgusted by your assumption of its identity and grabbed your wrist, shoving it away harshly from its face. when you winced in pain, guilty flooded its mind.

"sorry, i didn't mean to hurt or scare you," its raspy voice speaks again.

"you didn't scare me, why would i be afraid of an angel like you," a pretty face like that, who on earth would be afraid?

"first off, I'm not that kind of angel you think i am. also, everyone fears me, so why are you…smiling?"

"there's nothing scary of you angel!" you said giddily and beams a wider smile at him.

"stop calling me that!" it said through gritted teeth and eyes blaring in flame. but you kept that smile on your face, yet you felt more intrigued over this unidentified presence.

"then do you have a name i should call you? oh my name is-"

"i already know who you are. there's no need for introductions when…you're gonna…huh?" the last words from it fades slowly when you wrap your arms around its middle and your eyes full of gleam, looking at it from below.

its shaky hands tried to push you away but the way your face was full of admiration and eyes glimmer in hope, it tugs another string at its non-existent heart. i guess it wouldn't hurt for my name since she's gonna die either way.

"seonghwa. call me seonghwa,"

"hwa!" his name sounded so beautiful too, it matches his face really well and you felt so happy that he finally gave his name to you. you hugged him a bit tighter than before.

"no, seong…hwa," he emphasised every syllable of his name.

"hwa!"

"seonghwa,"

"HWA!" he sighs in defeat and lets you win. however, he felt his body getting relaxed when you have him in your hold. for once, he felt…comfort.

"now dear, the reason I'm here is to-"

"to accompany me!" you cut him off and release him from your grasp as you went to your wardrobe.

he tried to speak up in defense but you ignored him as you dress yourself up in something warm and suitable for an outside occasion. you grab his wrist and drags him towards outside. even though he is bigger and much stronger than you, he felt like he should just let you take him to wherever you wish. that is, to take a walk outside.

he kept on babbling he doesn't want to to this, but he still kept on walking beside you because your hand felt so soft touching his, and you never let go of his hand. after a while, you got used to his skin temperature. cold, but soft.

you pass by your neighbor's house and the owner greeted you. being your usual self, you gleefully greeted back with a wave of your hand.

"I'm here with a friend today," you tug seonghwa to show off to the old lady, but she had a concerned look instead of the expression you hoped for. was she not happy with the new friend?

"oh uh dear, i bet your friend must be as lovely as you are, i hope…. you go get along now," she mutters out the words carefully in a sentence. hoping she doesn't hurt your feelings.

you continued your journey with seonghwa and truthfully, you felt a bit sad that the lady didn't greet seonghwa too. does she not see him?

"no one can see me accept you," you turned your head over him surprised with his sudden response. can he read minds?

"well, let's say, magically, i do can read your mind, but just yours," he chuckles and you felt your heart flutters upon hearing him.

"so you are an angel!" you stopped in your tracks and tugs on his arm.

"not so, well, sort of, actually I'm a…uh…I'm…" he tongue refuses to mutter out the words as he saw the way your eyes sparkles in adoration and hope at him. he didn't have the heart to say the truth when you're like this. but you kept the smile on your face, waiting for his full response.

"yea, i am what you call that," he sighs.

"angel hwa!" you finally release his hand and you skipped your way back home. you've never felt so happier to eventually got a friend, an angel at that. that's what you thought he was.

seonghwa on the other hand, his lips formed into a small smile on his face, his eyes admiring you from behind. she looks so adorable. what the actual fuck? he slaps his own face, realizing his own actions.

you made yourself dinner and even made extra for seonghwa. he doesn't have to eat, but seeing your efforts in the cooking, he force the whole dish down his throat. he sat beside you and prop his chin with the palm of his hand while he admires you enjoying your meal. he likes the way you would squirm in joy and praise the food in every bite.

so cute. what the hell seonghwa?! he snaps himself out and clears up his throat. then tells you to clean yourself up for bed. you happily obliged to his orders with a happy stomach.

once you made yourself in bed, seonghwa tells you to sleep, but you only whine back at him as you were not that sleepy yet. seonghwa sighs and sits down beside you on the bed, he leans his back to the headboard.

"sleep now or you'll be cranky next morning," he pulls the blanket over your chest, tucking you in.

"but i don't get cranky," you whine again with a pout. seonghwa's lips betrays him once again with another smile and he caresses your head gently. yea, a pure soul like yours would never be in that state. a pure soul. SOUL!

seonghwa's eyes widen and found himself in a daze again and snaps out of it quickly. your eyes never left seonghwa's beautiful face. you want to admire it your whole life. you finally felt the drowsiness crept in when you yawned.

"will i see you again next morning, hwa?" you ask him with lidded tired eyes.

seonghwa hesitated at first. should he tell the truth or should he kept on lying? he bit his lip, before responding to you.

"yes, you will. that is if you close your eyes now sweetheart," you scrunch you nose when he boops it.

you felt so safe with him. you held hope in his promise. eager in wanting to see him first thing in the morning, and you force yourself to sleep.

seonghwa waited for you to finally drift off when your breathing fell consistent and your mind at peace. he stood up carefully from the bed, staring down at your whole body. he lets out a long sigh before he brings out the scythe he had kept hidden from your vision.

he needs to take your soul now. he was supposed to do that when he first met you, but he delayed. you were the first person to like him, to admire his beauty, the first human being to actually hugged him. hug. who knew a human would hug a grim reaper that was bout to take its soul away.

seonghwa grips the scythe's holder tighter. hesitate clouds his head. take her soul now seonghwa! he hovers the weapon above your body but his movements faltered when his eyes lands on your face, snoring quietly with a smile. must be having a nice dream.

FUCKING HELL SEONGHWA! he caught himself off guard and threw his scythe away as it disappeared again, back to its safe place. he walks away from you and runs his hand through his hair. frustration. confusion. denial.

he sits down on a chair that was facing you from a far. he decides to calm himself down and maybe wait a just little bit longer, then he'll take your soul. the night went on in silence as he stayed there admiring you from a far.

through the dark sky, from the same window he first laid eyes on you, dark smoke clouds behind it and slips through into the bedroom through a little gap. the smoke then swirls around the end of your bed and it thickens to form two new identical entities.

"fucking hell, look at her san!" said the first dark little figure with horns to the other one that looks just the same just a tad bit bigger.

you twist in your sleep that results in the blanket to be pushes aside, revealing your bare calves.

"wooyoung! she looks so scrumptious, don't you think?" the other one hovered over your body and points out at your exposed plump skin.

"i want to sink my teeth in and savor her…" the one named wooyoung reached out his hands and bare its teeth to you while his other companion, san, was already drooling to the thought.

"don't you two dare touch her, demons." a thundering growl elicits by the grim reaper from the darkness in the corner of the bedroom.

the two little demons shrieked and hugged each other as they were surprised by the sudden interruption of their nice meal.

"damn, seonghwa! calm down will ya. you're always cranky all the time, try smiling for once," wooyoung pulled away from san first and walks over to seonghwa but he only made a few steps before he halted as seonghwa gave him an intense glare.

"I'm a reaper, why should i be smiling you filthy thing. why do you two chose her to disturb tonight either way?" seonghwa stood beside your bed as to protect you from the harm of the two demons.

"well actually we're not here for her, we're here for you. she's just so beautiful we kinda got distracted," san was the one tho explained while wooyoung nodded, agreeing with him. seonghwa only gave a glaring look just for the same demon to further elaborate.

"her soul was supposed to collected, but in the list, its still hasn't, so we we're tasked to go check it out as it was your responsibility, seonghwa," a tight frown forms on the reaper's face. he knew this would happen. he sighs in annoyance before giving his reason.

"give me some time, i promise I'll give it soon. now go back to hell you two!" seonghwa shoos them away but they were whining not wanting to leave and stay with you.

"get the fuck out!" seonghwa opens wide the window before shoving the two outside and closes it back shut and pulls down the curtain.

he heard a soft sound from behind him, you were twisting and turning in your sleep, muttering incoherent words. he steps closer to you and heard you calling out for him, but your eyes were still shut. he lays himself down beside you and pulls you into his arms.

i shall never let anything taint your little innocent soul.

"hwa…" you mumble out his name and he shushes you back to sleep.

"I'm here, you're hwa is here."

your body felt his presence and snuggles into his chest. seonghwa pulls you in tighter and lets you rest under his protection for the entire night.

you felt bright light beaming onto your face and you were woken up by the sun shining from your window. your stretch out your limbs with a soft grunt. you felt sudden adrenaline that morning, it was the most peaceful sleep you've ever had and you wanted to tell seonghwa. you need see seonghwa. you looked all over your room, but no one was there.

"seonghwa?" you heart sinks when there was no response. did he left? but he promised…

"seonghwa!" you voice in a higher octave but cracked as you were on edge of bawling your eyes out.

"my dear, i was out to fetch some food for you," his voice erupted from the opening of the door. you jumped out of bed and ran towards him. he held the tray of a full meal higher in the air so it doesn't bump you when you abruptly wrap your arms around him.

"i thought you left,"

"well, i didn't, now sit down and eat your food, human," you happily made your way to a small table as seonghwa puts down the tray and lets you gobble them all up.

you were hugging in bed and you rest the side of your head to his chest, and you hum curiously as you let your hand wander around his chest.

"i don't have a heart sweetie," he said

"well, i do," you exclaimed and took his frail hand and place it firmly on your chest. he gasped quietly as he feels your heartbeat. the soft thumping felt so surreal to his hands. it felt so soft and beautiful. and he wanted to keep on feeling and hearing this heartbeat forever. to cherish it everyday of his immortal lifetime.

realization of his true demeanor made him snap out of the trance you put him in. he realized he should've end that beating heart of yours, not admire it.

he pushes you away from him. though, his actions never made you think negatively. you giddily grab him back and snuggles back on his chest. seonghwa was easily defeated by your innocence and he lets you get comfortable with him again. another day of spending more time you, and ignoring his true intentions.

days after days, you two spent a lot of time together, actually, the whole time. from morning to night, from dusk till dawn, from midnight to midday. every hour, every minute, every second. you enjoyed his company very much and he was getting more comfortable with you and protected you at all times behind your back without you knowing.

seonghwa sat on your bed with his legs crossed and back leans against the headboard as he listens attentively to your little rambling of the book you're currently reading.

"…and then the queen took in her late husband's mistress into becoming her new slave and they got married in the end! yayyy happily ever after to them!" you throw your hands both up in the air joyfully.

"you're so adorable, come here," seonghwa chuckles and you made your way to him before he pulls you down to sit on his lap.

the longer he stayed with you, you became very familiar of his bold and alluring scent. he smells so rich and seductive. the burst of sweet and spicy, like of coffees and vanillas which gives off a warm and also intoxicating aura.

seonghwa wraps your smaller body with his arms. you snuggle into his embrace as you leaned your back against his chest. his fingers trace undefinable patterns on the skin of your arms. you elicits soft giggle as it tickles you a bit. hearing your soft sounds, also made seonghwa giggles along with you. it tugs the heartstrings of his non existing heart.

you love little moments like this with him.

but luck was not on your side that day. the same smoke that almost haunt you in your sleep came back. though this time, it was only the the demon named wooyoung that appeared.

"yo seonghwa, its been three months. what took you so long to take…her…soul??" you gasp when you laid eyes on the horned devil. seonghwa quickly covered your eyes with his hands and you felt his chest vibrates as he growls.

"FUCKING HELL!! are you hugging…wait…why are you…no wait…have you lost your…wait WAIT…WHAT ARE EVEN YOU DOING PARK SEONGHWA?!!" the little menace widens his eyes. hands pulling the long strands of his hair. shouting. screaming. panicking. shocked? no, he was far more than that. he almost exploded with the sight in front of him.

you tried to release his hand as you wanted to have your visions back but his grip to your face became tighter.

"please leave…" you heard him sigh.

"please? did you just said please? damn, a reaper begging and said the 'P' word to a lowlife like me? that's a first. what have you become…"

"I SAID LEAVE!" the demon quickly disappeared right before the blade of seonghwa's scythe could touch him when he swung it.

the room fell in utter silence when seonghwa retracts his hand back. you looked down to your hands instead of looking to the man behind you.

"I'm sorry, i should've told the truth. that I'm-"

"a grim reaper,"

you felt seonghwa's body getting tense after hearing those words coming out from your mouth. you turned around and held his face in the palm of your hands.

"i already knew from the first time you came into my room,"

"huhh how? then…why did you-"

"you reek death, hwa," your chuckles made him giggle. let's savor this last smile of him before the last breath.

sorrow fills seonghwa's eyes. you couldn't help but feel bad for him. he pulls you closer to his chest, his face on the side of your neck, his hands placed themselves on your back, pushing you as close as he can to you. chest to chest. he felt every beat of your heart. remember and loving every thump. you wrap your arms around his neck and brush along his silky black hair.

"I'm really sorry…i should've done it sooner…i should not have grown attached to you…i-" you shush him and heard little sobs from the side of your ear.

he pulls you away and his hand cups the side of your cheek as his thumb rubs along your cheekbones. he pulls your face closer to his and place his lips onto yours. for an angel of death, his lips were soft and it tasted so sweet.

"forgive me, my little soul," he pulls away from you as his other hand grips the handle of his scythe behind you till it could almost snap in two.

"seonghwa." you trace your fingers across seonghwa's beautiful dark teary eyes for the last time.

you flash him a soft smile and gave him a last kiss on his lips. a tear rolled down seonghwa's face as he felt your last breath on his face and your body fell limp in his hold. he choked on his sobs when he no longer feel your lovely beating heart.

for a grim reaper who has no soul, he felt his non-existent heart shatter to a million pieces.

she finally said my name.

dividers

taglist: @engentiny @seonghw4ffles

network: @othersideoutlawsnetwork @illusionnet

[lilybug-02]

How does someone watch a stick figure they keep killing her progressively more scared and eventually even hopeless over time without realizing that it's actually a person?

It's simple; by not intentionally not thinking too hard about it and ignoring the implications.

Why would Alan do that? Because the moment he decides that victim is a person, he has to accept that he's a monster. He can't do that, so he has to keep believing that victim is just a program that he can play with. If victim if an innocent person, he's guilty of commiting horrific crimes against another person.

So he decides not to view victim as a person, just a very reactive program that he can have fun with.

But that's not up to him to decide and victim really is alive whether he wants that to be true or not.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

In ava 4, when Orange proves to be a skilled animator, he at first wants to use that to his advantage. But he still doesn't view Orange as a person until "it... Talks?" when he's slapped in the face by this stick figure he created talking to him in his own language and suddenly there is no more denying that this is a person.

He feels guilty about his past, but he tries not to think about it. As far as he knows, his other creations are dead and he's the only one left who knows the truth. He can't let the ones on his computer know about it or else they'll know he's a monster and he doesn't want to lose them because now he genuinely cares. It's his deepest secret. He tries not to think about what he did back then because you can't make amends to a dead person and it hurts to look back on the horrors he inflicted. So he doesn't. That secret is buried in the depths of his mind, never to see the light of day or affect his relationship with the cg. But actions have consequences and in season 2, he sees a ghost of his past for the first time in years. Suddenly it's not only in his memories but is still actively hurting other people. The past is catching up to him and he can run forever forever. It's only a matter of time before the past catches up to him and they all know the truth about him.

(sorry if this is too long)

no worries. I like the way you think. <3

[robo-writing]

this is like. only a request if the spirit takes you there but lord knows i’d read it. idk if this is a thing? it feels like it should be but i literally have never seen it before. anyway i just… had the thought of logan teasing R with his knuckles and her getting so into it she’s basically (externally) riding his fist… idk why this overtook my brain but it’s so so hot to me i could pass away. something about the thought of using that part of him that is so often solely a weapon for your pleasure, of claiming his hands as yours for something overwhelmingly positive …. houghhhh

You watch the apple of his throat bob, the audible intake of air ringing sharp against the empty silence, his eyes darting from your face to where his knuckles rest against your mound.

Your fingers circle his wrist, your eyes pleading. “I trust you. You can’t hurt me—you wouldn’t.”

It’s easy to say, easier to believe when it’s you saying it. You don’t know what his hands have done, the blood that stains them, you don’t know and he’d never dream of telling you. A bit selfish, but a necessary lie; if you knew the truth, you wouldn’t dare look at him the way you do now.

Satyric, aroused. A hand at his chest, your weight against his lap, his hand just barely grazing against your needy center. He can hear his heartbeat pounding in his ears, a cocktail of anticipation and terror at the thought of you—sweet, innocent you—finding any resemblance of attraction in the weapons that lie beneath his skin.

I trust you, you said, but it’s not you he’s doubting; it’s himself.

You can see the hesitation on his face; the denial that leaves him frozen. At the same time, you also see the sliver of curiosity, hope, desperation.

He wants this just as much as you do, and it’s your job to help him realize it.

Slowly, you bring yourself forward, your lips tenderly brushing against his while your hips sink onto his outstretched hand, swallowing the gasp that leaves him soon after. He quickly tries to pull away, only to still at the pressure of your fingers against his wrist.

“Don’t,” you beg, free hand tangling in his dark hair. “Want you to feel this, Logan.”

“You don’t know what you’re askin’.” He answers, still caught between two worlds.

You couldn’t find him beautiful like this, you just can’t, and yet he can feel the proof against his hands, feel the heat emanating, smell the arousal that pours from your body. Just barely, he chases your lips before stopping himself, groaning when you close the distance.

“I love you Logan, all of you,” you moan, smiling when you feel his fingers becoming more adventurous. “Let me show you just how much.”

[im-so-normal-iswear]

Hello Could I request a one-shot of yandere Shadow (Sonic boom) x Fem introvert reader

A/n: i honestly havent watched sonic boom yet, ive only warched a few episodes, haventvgitten ti shadow yet so these are probably not too accurate! (◞ ‸ ◟ㆀ)

Yandere!(boom)Shadow x shy reader

Life in Village is quiet, which suits you just fine. Usually its loud with everyone sticking their noses in everyone elses business.

You’ve always been more comfortable on your own time. It was just very tiring interacting with people. So you preffered times at night when everyine was asleep and you could wnjoy the peace. But lately, something feels… off.

At first, it was subtle. A shadow passing by your window at odd hours, the sensation of being watched when you were about to go to bed. You chalked it up to paranoia. After all nothing ever happened.

One evening, as you settled in on your phone, the hairs on the back of your neck prickled. You looked up, your eyes darting around the room. Nothing. Yet the feeling persisted. You tried to shake it off, maybe you were being paranoid? Yeah, that was it. Right?

Definitely...

...

It started innocently enough. Shadow appeared one day at the market, standing off to the side, arms crossed as he surveyed the area. He didn’t approach you, didn’t say a word, just stared. You couldn’t help stealing glances at him, wondering why someone like him was here.

The next time you saw him was at the edge of the forest near your home. He didn’t hide, didn’t make excuses for being there. He simply stared, his eyes locking onto yours.

Silence.

You stood looking back in stunned silence

He stepped closer, hyo movements deliberate. "You..." he began, his voice low as he trudged over.

As he stepped forwars you took steps back instinctively.

Shadow tilted his head, studying you like a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. "You don’t waste time on meaningless chatter. You don’t seek the approval of others. You’re quiet... I respect that."

You blinked, taken aback. "Okay. Good to know?"

He smirked faintly before vanishing into the woods, leaving you with more questions than answers.

From that point on, Shadow made his presence known in subtle but unmistakable ways. A flicker at the corner of your vision. Footsteps trailing behind you, only to stop when you turned around. You had fewer and fewer times you truely felt alone.

It was unsettling, and frankly terrifying, but what were you going to do about it?

One evening, as you returned home, you found your front door unlocked. Panic surged through you as you cautiously stepped inside. Everything looked normal, at first. But then you noticed the changes. Your bookshelf, usually a mess, had been meticulously organized. The blanket on your couch was folded neatly. And on your kitchen table sat a steaming cup of tea.

"Who’s here?" you demanded, your voice wavering.

Shadow emerged from behind you, his expression unreadable. "Relax. You’re safe."

"What are you doing in my house?"

"Dont worry about it," he said simply, as if breaking into your home was the most natural thing in the world. "You should feel honored i wentbthrough the trouble of cleaning up your mess"

You stared at him, your mind racing. "You can’t just-."

"Shut up. I didn't do all of this for you to be complaining."

"But I didn’t ask for this!"

His gaze softened, but there was a dangerous edge to it. "You don’t have to ask. I know what’s best for you."

From then on, Shadow started inserting himself in everything you did. Every aspect of "your life" was slowly but surely going under his control. He'd give you small gifts, things he thought you would like. He'd insist on taking you from place to place. He even scared off a group of villagers who had tried to strike up a conversation with you, his glare alone enough to send them running.

"Why are you doing this?" you asked one night, exhausted and defeated.

He looked at you like the answer was obvious. "Because you’re mine. You’ll see," he said quietly, his tone passive aggressive. "One day, you’ll understand. No one can protect you like I can. No one can love you like I do."

A/n: hopefully these werent too out of character as ive only seen one clip of him in sonic boom

[mylovesstuffs]

OT13 reaction to someone flirting with their s/o at an award show

Request: I've never sent you a request before so I tried to follow your instructions properly hope this is ok 👀)

seventeen ‼️🫶🏼

Fluff? Angst? Up to you really

Reaction 🌝

hm so in favour of the award season that just past, the idea was how the sebongs would react with someone else flirting with you during awards night (in this case y/n / reader is also a idol/ artist attending and no one knows their together ygm)

like who would be protective and approach right away? Who would just watch giggle and chuckle? Who would try to be nonchalant but be so obvious that they're looking?

Can't wait to hear your thoughts ‼️ sending lots of love and a happy new year 🫶🏼🫶🏼

A/N: I love the prompt! Btw, it might seem like everyone's reacting the same way, but no, they aren't. They just have a common ground, which I think every man should have. Also, I realized halfway through that I should've categorized it, but I was too lazy to rewrite the whole thing again. This would've been a good one-shot sort of thing if I only focused on one member, but I don't think I would be able to write all 13 members with the same prompt. I guess I'll try something like this in the future

Seungcheol: Cheol would exude calm dominance. He'd sit there, pretending to be relaxed, but his eyes? It would be locked on the situation. Wdym he’d do nothing? Absolutely not. The second he notices someone getting too bold with you, he'd make his presence known—not through confrontation, but with subtle yet commanding gestures. He’d accidentally catch your gaze from across the room, his intense stare sending a clear message: You good, babe? Need me to step in? If the flirter doesn’t back off, expect him to walk over, throw a casual arm around your chair, and smile politely, but there’s a steeliness to his tone when he introduces himself. He’s a leader on and off the stage, and no one’s coming near his person.

Jeonghan: Oh, Jeonghan's the king of playing it cool. He wouldn’t move a muscle, letting out a little amused chuckle as he watches the scene unfold. But don’t let his easygoing demeanor fool you—he’s analyzing every single detail. He trusts you completely but also knows how charming he can be. If the flirting escalates, he’d casually saunter over, all smiles, and innocently join the conversation. His honeyed tone would have just enough of an edge to make the flirter retreat. You thought he wouldn’t step in? He’s Jeonghan, the ultimate strategist, and he’ll always protect his love while still being effortless.

Joshua: Joshua would play it cool too but in a way that’s so obvious it’s endearing. He’d smile politely from his table, but his grip on his drink might tighten ever so slightly. He’s a softie, but also your man. If the flirter gets too close, he might find an excuse to accidentally walk by, brushing your arm or whispering something sweet and cheeky like, “Having fun, babe?” He’d never confront anyone outright unless necessary—he’s too classy for that—but his subtle presence would make it clear to everyone in the room that you’re taken. You think he’s just sitting there? Nah, he’s staking his claim in the most elegant way possible.

Jun: Moon would find it hilarious. He’s such a chaotic cutie sometimes, I can’t. He’d nudge the member sitting next to him and point at the scene, whispering something like, “Look at that. They think they have a chance.” But deep down, there’s a flicker of possessiveness. If the flirter keeps pushing, he might get up and walk over casually, sliding into the conversation with a sly grin. His playful charm would leave the flirter flustered and unsure of what just happened. He’s protective in his own quirky way, and I’m crying because he’d never let you feel uncomfortable. I love my man so much TT

Hoshi: Hoshi would be a mix of soft and slightly chaotic, and I love him for it. At first, he’d probably pout from a distance, his face betraying his jealousy even though he’s trying to act unaffected. But let’s be real, he can’t keep it cool for long. The moment he thinks you’re even a little uncomfortable, he’d dart over, all bright smiles, and wrap an arm around you in a totally friendly gesture. He might say something teasing but with a hint of possessiveness. His protective tiger energy will activated.

Wonwoo: Angst King Supreme. He would keep it nonchalant on the surface, but inside? Oh, he’s feeling things. He trusts you completely and knows you can handle yourself, so he wouldn’t intervene unless absolutely necessary. However, his subtle reactions—like a clenched jaw or a quick glance at the flirter—would give him away. He wouldn’t confront the flirter right away, but he’d sit in silence, overthinking every little thing. “Should I have made it public?” He’d question himself, spiraling a little, even though he knows you love him. If things escalate, he might casually walk over, not saying much but standing close enough to make the other person feel the heat of his presence. You think he’s unbothered? He’s LITERALLY fuming inside but hiding it behind that cool exterior, and I’m scared —

Woozi: Woozi’s reaction would be so understated that you might not even notice it at first. He’d sit quietly, watching the interaction with a small, almost imperceptible frown. He’s reserved but fiercely protective. If he feels like the flirter is crossing a line, he’d lean over to a member and mutter something like, “Do I need to go over there?” And if he does approach? Oh, he’s not wasting time on pleasantries. His tone would be calm but firm, sending a clear message without ever raising his voice. He’s your man, and he’ll step up when it matters most.

Dokyeom: Dokyeom would be flustered at first, unsure whether to intervene or let you handle it. He’s such a sweetie. But the moment he sees you even slightly uncomfortable, he’s on his feet, heading over with his signature smile. He’d probably introduce himself in the friendliest way possible, but there’s an underlying protectiveness in his tone. His warmth would make the flirter back off without even realizing it. Wdym he’d stay seated? Nope, he’s too caring for that.

Mingyu: Mingyu would be the most obvious of the group, and it’s honestly adorable. This man wears his heart on his sleeve. He’d try to stay cool, but his constant glances and slightly furrowed brows would give him away. If the flirter gets too close, he’d have no choice but to step in. He’d walk over with that signature puppy smile, but there’s a possessiveness in his eyes that makes it clear who you belong to. This puppy is anything but subtle.

Minghao: The8 would radiate confidence. He trusts you and knows you can handle yourself, but that doesn’t mean he’s not paying attention. If someone gets too bold, he’d walk over, might place a light hand on your back or shoulder, a subtle but powerful gesture that says, ‘This is my person.’ He’s the type to protect you without making a scene, and we should be swooning because he’s so effortlessly cool about it.

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would be dramatic internally but composed externally. He’d whisper to the members, “Are they serious right now?” before shooting occasional side-eyes at the scene. If he feels like you’re uncomfortable, he’d march over, his protective instincts kicking in. He’s fiercely loyal and wouldn’t hesitate to let the flirter know they’re out of line—but in the most eloquent way possible.

Vernon: He would be unbothered on the surface, but internally? He’s watching everything. He trusts you completely and knows you can handle yourself, so he’d sit back and observe unless things got out of hand. If he does intervene, it would be in the chillest way possible—maybe a simple hand on your shoulder or a quick, “Hey, you good?” He’s just subtle about his protectiveness, and he's here for his low-key energy.

Dino: Dino would NOT be the least protective. He’d watch the interaction closely, his brows furrowed slightly. If the flirter gets too bold, he’d approach confidently, standing tall. He might not say much, but his presence alone would be enough to make the other person back off. He’s mature enough to stand up for his love.

[hazelira]

sneezy

Heeseung was pulled from his thoughts by a tiny, high-pitched “achoo!” followed by another in quick succession. He looked over just in time to see his baby girl scrunching up her face, her little nose now adorned with a bubble of snot that wobbled precariously.

He couldn’t help but laugh softly, shaking his head. “Oh, precious, you’ve got a little situation there,” he said, reaching for the soft baby wipes on the nearby table.

The baby girl let out a giggle, clearly amused by the strange sensation on her nose. Her tiny hands flailed excitedly as she squealed, her giggles becoming a shriek of joy when Heeseung leaned in to wipe her nose.

“Hold still, you little wiggle worm,” he chuckled, carefully cleaning her up. “Can’t have you walking around like this, can we? Your mama would scold me if I left you like this.”

She cooed at him as if understanding, her big eyes sparkling with mischief. Once her nose was clean, Heeseung kissed her chubby cheek, erupting into another fit of giggles.

“All better now,” he murmured, gently tapping the tip of her tiny nose. He sat back, watching her settle down and chew on the soft toy he’d handed her earlier.

He glanced back at you, still peacefully sleeping, oblivious to the adorable chaos unfolding. Heeseung shook his head with a smile, his heart full. His daughter sneezed again; this time, he quickly caught it with the wipe, feeling like a pro.

“Guess you’re trying to keep me on my toes, huh?” he said, his voice warm. “Don’t worry, princess. I’ve got this. Dada’s not going anywhere.”

Heeseung watched as his baby girl’s pudgy little hands reached out toward the doggy again, her chubby fingers curling as she tried to grab its fur. She was so small, so delicate, with baby fat rounding out her cheeks and little arms. Every movement was a reminder of just how precious and fragile this time was.

His heart softened, and he leaned down to kiss her head, her soft baby hair tickling his lips. “Don’t grow up, sweetheart,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Please stay little, my sneezy squish.”

The words came out like a quiet prayer, and he couldn’t help but smile as she wriggled in his arms, continuing to reach for the doggy. Her baby chub made her look even more adorable.

Her tiny nose scrunched again, and another little “achoo!” escaped her. Heeseung chuckled, wiping her nose once more as she giggled, clearly enjoying the attention. She looked up at him with those big eyes, full of trust, love, and innocence.

“You’re my little sunshine,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I want to keep you this way forever. Just stay like this for a while longer. Let me enjoy this stage… before you grow too fast.”

Heeseung gently placed her back in the bouncy seat, ensuring she was comfortable and still safe, then stood up slowly. He couldn’t help but glance at you, still sleeping on the couch, your gentle, peaceful face illuminated by the soft morning light streaming through the window.

He could feel the weight of his love for both of you—how his heart seemed to beat faster just being around you, how everything in his life had changed unexpectedly. In the past, he never would’ve imagined himself so soft, so vulnerable, but now, with his little girl in his arms and you by his side, he felt a kind of warmth he had never known.

Heeseung watched his daughter for a moment longer, knowing this was a fleeting stage. The baby squirmed in the seat, her eyes still on the doggy as she let out another giggle.

“Stay little,” he whispered again as if the words could stop time. “You’re precious just like this.”

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MADNESS (Eddie Munson x American Horror Story: Asylum)

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four | chapter five

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.

As Eddie fights for his life, how far can his psyhiatrist go to save him when she finds out he is innocent? Perhaps the only reason his psychiatrist wants to save him is not because of Eddie's innocence, but because they have developed feelings for each other over time. In the midst of all this confusion, a series of secret experiments on patients in the mental hospital and a series of dark secrets make everything more difficult.

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, Explicit Sexual Content, 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. read on ao3

Dr. Oliver Owsen was deeply interested in what Arthur had been doing. In short, he was searching for someone named Ginny. After checking all the hospitals, he had come here as a last resort. One of the reasons that brought him here was that Dr. Arthur had also worked at the last hospital where Ginny was seen—at least, that’s what Violet had learned. 

Who was Ginny? How did Oliver know her? Why was he looking for her? Frankly, Violet didn’t care much. The only thing she cared about was that she was tired of all the dirty dealings in this hospital always going unpunished. Someone needed to expose everything happening in this place.

Apparently, Violet no longer had the authority or power to do that. But she could help someone who did—namely, Dr. Oliver Owsen.

After finishing her therapy session with Oliver, she glanced over at Eddie, who was whispering but speaking heatedly with someone in the corner. Because of his fluffy curly hair and tall stature, she couldn’t see who he was talking to.

She went over to John and Max and gestured toward them with her head. “What’s going on over there?”

John rolled his eyes and sighed. “Our only ticket out of here just flew out the window. The guys who were supposed to get us out have now come inside. ”

Violet frowned. “Steve is here?” John sighed again in frustration and threw himself onto the couch. “Steve and his buddy. Now we have two more people we need to keep safe.”

Violet wondered what they were talking about. Eddie’s anxious appearance was fueling the growing fear inside her. When the door to the common room opened, everyone turned their heads in that direction. Prosecutor Robert Hills had finally graced them with his presence.

As Violet tried to predict his next moves, she noticed Eddie clenching his fists and shooting hateful glares at Robert. The tension escalated as Robert approached; Eddie looked like a tiger waiting to pounce.

Robert, however, walked calmly as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn’t turned their lives into hell. Without looking at anyone, he went directly to Max, extended his hand, and introduced himself.

“Hello, Max, I’m Robert Hills, the prosecutor in the Eddie Munson case,” he said with a fake smile. “We’ve actually met before, but at that time, you had just come out of a coma. I understand you want to update your statement. The necessary procedures have been completed for your release. Come to my office, and we’ll update your statement. Afterward, you’ll be able to leave this place by the afternoon.”

When Max looked nervously at Violet, she nodded in approval. At least someone would get out of here.

After Max left, Eddie, Steve, and a blond young man approached Violet. When the young man extended his hand, Violet shook it and learned that his name was Jonathan.

“We need to make a plan with you. But not here. Where’s the safest place?” Eddie asked, quickly darting his eyes around at everyone. Steve and Jonathan shrugged and looked at each other. “They haven’t given us a room yet,” Steve replied. Violet raised her hand and said, “Max is staying in my room. She could return from Robert’s office at any moment.” Eddie put his hands on his hips and turned to John. John, somehow, had produced a chocolate bar and was eating it. With his mouth full, he looked at each of them in turn and said indifferently, “What?”

John’s single room looked like a five-star hotel suite to Violet. While the double rooms gave off the impression of a mousetrap, this one felt relatively spacious. Jonathan had brought a chair from the common room and was sitting with his feet propped against the headboard of the bed. Steve sat on the floor, leaning against the wall. John had sprawled across the bed so much that Eddie and Violet were forced to squeeze into one corner of it.

Eddie smiled and patted his knee twice—a wordless way of saying, “Come on.” Violet smiled back, got up, and sat on Eddie’s leg. Wrapping her hands around his neck, she rested her head against his soft hair. Eddie’s scent and warmth created a brief wave of calm within her.

John pulled a lighter out of his pocket and flicked it on. “So, you want me to burn a little girl now, is that it?” he said, examining the lighter closely.

Jonathan replied, “Not burn her, just bring the flame close. If she gets scared, we can figure out if Vecna has taken her or if he’s still inside her.” John rolled his eyes and said mockingly, “ Of course she’d get scared, genius. Everyone’s afraid of fire.” Then, suddenly, he thrust the lighter toward Jonathan. Jonathan toppled off his chair, and Eddie’s giggling filled the room. Violet, sitting in Eddie’s lap, couldn’t help but chuckle as she felt the vibration of his laughter.

Steve said, “It’s not logical to burn her, but we could touch her with something heated by the lighter,” his face thoughtful.

Eddie raised his eyebrows. “You do realize we’re talking about a person, right?” he asked.

John added dramatically, “Also, I don’t want to go down in history as an arsonist. I don’t want to be the first person people think of when they hear the word ‘fire.’ ”

Violet bit her lip, smiling. “I think you’re a bit late for that.”

Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, Eddie said, “Something keeps poking me. Dude, your bed is so uncomfortable.” He looked annoyed. John smirked slyly, and Eddie gave him a suspicious look. “What are you up to?” he asked.

When Eddie lifted the cushion on the bed, the pile of junk food, cigarettes, and cassette tapes underneath. Eddie turned to Violet with a mocking expression. “And we thought the real spy was Robert. Turns out the real sneaky one was right next to us all along,” he said.

Folding her arms across her chest, Violet asked, “How did you even get all this stuff in here?”

John put on an innocent expression, pursing his lips and raising his hands. “If you had a brother working here, you’d also have someone bringing you whatever you wanted,” he said.

Suddenly, Steve stood up excitedly. “This brother of yours… Can he smuggle anything in?” he asked.

Eddie placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder, smirking. “I don’t think he can smuggle in what you’re thinking about, dude,” he said with a sarcastic grin.

Steve stared at Eddie for a few seconds, then raised his hands. “No, you idiot. I’m not talking about what you think,” he said.

As Eddie burst into laughter, Violet realized his joy came from being surrounded by his friends. Even in the midst of all this chaos, Eddie’s happiness was contagious. He was like a bond that brought his friends together. Somehow, even in these tough times, being with them gave Eddie a small sense of peace.

John asked, “Hey Steve, what do you need? What’s on your mind?”

Steve said, “If your brother can smuggle in a heater or something similar, Violet could say she’s cold in her cell and turn it on. That way, we wouldn’t have to burn Max, and we could still learn if she’s sensitive to heat.”

John threw himself onto the bed with a disappointed look on his face. “Brendon can only smuggle things as big as what he can fit in his pocket,” he said.

Eddie added, “And even if he did smuggle in a heater like you said, we don’t have sockets in our rooms.”

Jonathan turned his chair backward and leaned his head against the backrest. “Besides, Max is leaving in a few hours. So this plan wouldn’t work,” he said.

“Maybe you could’ve just asked,” said a sudden voice.

Everyone turned to see Max standing at the door. She rolled her eyes, walked toward them, and took the lighter from John’s hand. She lit the flame and brought her hand close to it, almost touching it. She didn’t react at all and then shrugged as she looked at them.

“I mean, there are five of you, but if I added all your brains together, it wouldn’t equal Nancy’s.”

As Violet looked on curiously, wondering who Nancy was, the others all nodded in unison. The three of them moved so in sync, it was like watching the three wise monkeys.

Max clenched her fist and held it out toward Eddie. Eddie mirrored her gesture and bumped fists with her.

Max continued, “I changed my statement about you, Eddie. The prosecutor said you might be able to get out of here in a day or two. Oh, and he’s waiting for you in his office now. As for me, I’m leaving. This madness is too much, even for me and even they call me MAD MAX.”

She finished her sentence with a laugh, but as she smiled, her eyes filled with tears. She hugged Eddie tightly.

“I’ll be waiting for you, Eddie. You’re the big brother I never had but always wanted. I’m sorry for everything that happened. I love you.”

It was clear that Eddie was struggling to swallow the lump in his throat. He hugged Max back in return.

Violet silently made a wish: I hope it happens as she said. I hope Eddie gets out of here.

Eddie opened the door to the prosecutor’s office and stepped inside. He hadn’t bothered to knock, not even out of courtesy. He went straight to the chair and sat down. Prosecutor Robert was organizing files with the male nurse standing beside him. This nurse was the same jerk who had taken Eddie to his cell on his first day at the mental hospital.

Robert picked up a piece of paper, held it up in the air, and shook it noticeably. “Do you know what this is, Edward? ” he asked. “Eddie,” Eddie replied calmly. He hated being called Edward.

Robert continued, “This is your ticket out of here, Edward. It’s the petition Max wrote, saying you’re innocent. I could send it right now, this very minute, and you’d be a free man tomorrow.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, already guessing where this was headed. “But?” he asked tersely.

Robert stood up and began speaking as he gazed out the window. “But your girlfriend and your friend will stay here. I don’t think you’ll ever see them again.”

He then picked up a blank sheet of paper and placed a pen from his pocket onto the desk. “If you write here that you take full responsibility for everything and claim that Max wrote the petition out of fear, then maybe I’ll give a statement saying you’re insane. That way, you, your girlfriend, and your friend can live happily here forever.”

Eddie crossed his arms and spoke with determination, “No. I’m getting out of here. Then I’ll take Violet and John with me. And there’s no way you’re going to make me do this.”

Robert leaned forward, placing both hands on the desk as he fixed his serious gaze on Eddie. “Perhaps I wasn’t clear enough. Edward, if you don’t write what I’ve told you, you’ll be the only one responsible for what happens next,” he said in a threatening tone.

Eddie gritted his teeth. “What are you going to do? Rat us out again, you Snitch Snitchson?” he shot back.

Robert responded with a filthy grin. “How about we give your girlfriend a nice volt of electricity right in front of your eyes, Edward? Will you still keep up this defiance then?”

When Eddie walked out of Robert's office, his hands were trembling. The prosecutor had given him two days to think, but there was nothing Eddie needed to think about. He would never allow Violet to be electrocuted.

But he didn’t trust Robert either. If he wrote the statement taking responsibility for the crimes, he was told he’d be deemed insane and allowed to stay there. But what if it was a lie? What if Robert took that statement and used it as evidence?

In that case, Eddie would be doomed, and Violet would never get out of here. He felt like a rat cornered in a trap.

He walked into the common room and looked for Steve and Jonathan. However, none of his friends were there. His eyes landed on Brendon, who was trying to get an old woman to drink soup.

Eddie approached him and asked, “Where’s John? Violet? Or the other two idiots?”

Brendon paused for a moment, his gaze drifting to the wall. “John’s in his cell. I don’t know where the two idiots are. I think they went to beg Manager Wilson to let them share the same cell. As for Violet, I last saw her with Doctor Oliver,” he said.

Eddie’s already frayed nerves worsened. He didn’t like Oliver at all; there was something off about that man, he thought. Deciding that John was the easiest person to locate, he headed toward the cells. Just as he reached the hall, he saw John walking toward him, grinning.

“Dude, you won’t believe what happened,” John was saying.

The only thought running through Eddie’s mind was: Wait until you hear mine, John.

John’s gaze turned to Eddie with concern. “What’s wrong?” he asked. Eddie was about to start talking when he saw Steve and Jonathan approaching from a distance. He gathered all three of them and led them to the cafeteria. Since no food was served at this hour, the place was quiet. Once everyone sat around the table, Eddie explained the blackmail Robert had used against him.

Steve suddenly stood up and started pacing around the table. His tension was evident in every movement. “Dude, you can’t write that statement. It’s obviously a trap. He’s going to take that paper from you and have you executed. The guy’s too smart,” he said. John, however, responded with a hesitant expression, “But if you don’t write it, they’ll torture Violet.” Jonathan, trying to lighten the weight of the situation, said, “Do you think Vecna’s inside this Robert guy?”

Eddie frowned as he spoke. “Could be. The guy has this grudge against me that I can’t figure out. Anyone would think I killed all his loved ones.” Steve sat back down and took a deep breath. “So, what are we going to do?” he asked. Jonathan followed with a question that hung in the air. “Do we have to escape again?”

Eddie shook his head as he answered. “We can’t escape. Oliver told Violet that all the patients in Ward C have been moved. I’m sure they’ve locked the doors too. We’re stuck here.” Steve, searching for a glimmer of hope, said, “Max got out. They’ll help us once they realize we haven’t left.” But Eddie still had doubts. “What if it’s too late?”

At that moment, everyone at the table seemed to focus their attention on the door. When Eddie looked, he saw Violet and Oliver walking toward them. Rolling his eyes, he muttered in a jealous tone, “One day, I’m going to land a good punch on that Oliver.”

When Violet reached them, she sat next to Eddie and took his hand. Oliver, on the other hand, started shaking everyone’s hands one by one. When he reached Eddie, Eddie only touched his hand lightly and responded with a fake smile.

Violet spoke with a serious expression on her face. “Oliver has something to tell you.” Eddie turned his head as if uninterested, but curiosity was growing inside him.

Oliver began to speak. “I know about the experiments and filth that Arthur has done. And I know he values those experiments too much to destroy them all at once. Those patients are somewhere in this hospital right now. I know that. And I’m sure, after your escape plan, he’s no longer keeping those files in the manager’s office. He must be keeping them in his own operating room. I’ve tried to get in there, but unfortunately, I’ve failed. No one can enter there except the assistant he keeps by his side.”

Eddie’s voice broke the silence in the room. “I’ve been inside,” he said.

Everyone turned to look at him. John had his head down, staring at his shoes, as if he already knew the answer. “When they gave me the electric shocks... I was in his operating room,” Eddie added. John raised his head slightly and spoke. “There’s only one way to get in there, and I can tell you it’s going to hurt.” Oliver slammed the table in frustration. “Great. Just great. So how are we supposed to get in?” Eddie fixed his gaze on Oliver. “Why do you even want to help us? What’s in it for you?” This question made Violet squeeze Eddie’s hand, but Eddie’s mind was elsewhere. He could understand John—he had followed Arthur this far and ended up stuck here. Violet was in trouble because she wanted to help Eddie. And Eddie himself had become a target after uncovering Arthur’s experiments. But what was Oliver’s motivation?

Oliver pulled out a chair and sat down at the table, his eyes turning to Violet. “He’s not the first doctor to fall in love with his patient,” he said. Eddie was confused. Was he in love with Violet? He opened his mouth to say something, but Oliver, realizing the misunderstanding, raised his hand to stop him. “No, not Violet. Ginny. I fell in love with her. She was transferred to another hospital at the time. I planned to follow her to wherever she went. But I couldn’t find her anywhere I went. It was like she had disappeared. There was no record of her anywhere. At the last hospital she was seen in, there were reports of other missing cases. Guess who the doctor there was?”

John, clenching his teeth, answered, “Arthur.” That single word revealed the weight of John’s guilt.

Jonathan, processing Oliver’s words, asked, “So, one of the patients in Ward C that he’s experimenting on could be Ginny?” Oliver shrugged as if to say he didn’t know, but his expression showed he thought it was possible.

Steve voiced his thoughts aloud. “Since we can’t just go up to the guy and say, ‘Hey, experiment on us too,’ or, ‘Go ahead and fry us like potatoes...’” John paused for a moment and looked into Eddie’s eyes. Then he turned to Violet.

Eddie shook his head in refusal. Jonathan and Steve understood the situation, but Oliver and Violet were looking at them with curiosity.

Violet, unable to bear it any longer, asked, “What’s going on here?” Steve turned to Eddie, about to say something. “Robert made Eddie an offer…” he began, but Eddie kicked him under the table. Steve groaned in pain. Violet suddenly stood up, crossing her arms, and spoke in a stern voice. “ I said, what is going on here?”

Eddie realized he had no choice but to tell the truth. With a sigh, he stood up, placed his hands on Violet's head, gently pulled her closer, and looked into her eyes. "Robert said he’d declare me insane in court if I wrote a letter confessing to all the crimes. And if I don’t... he said he’d torture you," he said.

Violet frowned as she looked at Eddie. "You didn’t agree to write the letter, did you?" she asked.

Eddie’s voice trembled, and he struggled to find the words. "How could I not? Violet... If they touch you, I’d die. I can’t let that happen," he said.

Violet stepped back, her expression revealing her anger. "If you write that letter, Eddie, you silly, the first thing Robert will do is drag you out of here and take you to court. You have a chance to escape, Eddie. Nobody else here does, but you do. You will never write that letter," she snapped.

She stepped forward, placing her hands on Eddie's face. Eddie put his hands on hers in return. Tears were streaming down Violet’s cheeks. Eddie’s eyes were also filling with tears. "You will never write that letter, Eddie. Promise me," Violet said, her voice trembling.

Eddie found it hard to respond to her insistence. "Violet..." was all he could say. "Promise me!" Violet shouted, tears streaming down faster.

Eddie pulled Violet close and rested her head against his chest. He held her tightly as sobs echoed through the room, placing his head to stop hers. For a moment, silence enveloped them both.

Oliver broke the moment. "Actually..." he said, as though a new idea had just occurred to him.

Everyone turned to look at him. His expression suggested he had figured something out.

John intervened quietly, "This could be really dangerous."

Oliver continued to explain his plan. "Just five minutes is enough. Less than five minutes, even."

Eddie and the others tried to grasp what he was suggesting. John, however, seemed to have already figured it out. Still, the group turned their expectant gazes toward Oliver, waiting for clarification.

Oliver elaborated. "When they take Violet into that operating room, you’ll go into the operating room too, Eddie. Isn’t that right? They’ll make you watch as they torture her. The door will be open. There’ll be staff. There’ll be doctors, nurses. It’ll be a crowded room, and while everyone is focused on the girl being tortured, no one will notice someone rifling through cabinets and drawers."

Steve interjected, " Someone who works there..."

Jonathan picked up the thought, "Like Brendon. "

Eddie raised his hand in frustration and let out a hysterical laugh. "Do you realize what you’re planning?" he said, his voice full of anger.

Violet turned to Eddie and said resolutely, "Let’s do it."

Eddie shot Violet a sharp look, grabbed her by the shoulders, and shook her angrily. "Violet. I will never allow such a thing. Never," he said.

As Eddie’s anger made his breaths heavy, his thoughts echoed in his mind. He wouldn’t watch them torture her. Not for five minutes, not even for a second. The plan was to steal the files while everyone was distracted with Violet. But for Eddie, this was unacceptable. If he were the one lying on that table, he would do it willingly. He had done it before, and just remembering the pain made his whole body tremble. But for Violet, never.

"What if the files aren’t where you think they are?" Eddie asked, his voice a mix of anger and worry. "What if someone notices you before you even get there? And let’s say you get the files. Then what happens to Violet?"

Violet took Eddie’s trembling hand and brought it to her lips. Her gesture was meant to both calm him and provide comfort in this difficult situation.

John stood up and came over to Eddie. Trying to encourage him, he spoke softly, "Do you remember the song you sang to Violet, Eddie?"

Everyone was looking at Eddie with sad expressions. However, expecting him to agree to this plan didn’t seem very fair. The anger and helplessness within Eddie were written all over his face. John continued speaking.

“You've got to lose to know how to win,” he said. It was a quote from the song Dream On that Eddie had once told Violet.

“We won’t let anything happen to Violet. We all love her so much. But we have no other choice. If they send you to your death, then how do you plan to protect Violet when you’re dead? Don’t rely on me; I’m the arsonist. Remember? After you, I’ll be the first one they come for.”

Oliver spoke, trying to calm the situation. “We’ll be quick. We promise,” he said.

Violet looked into Eddie’s eyes with a deep expression. “Can we talk for a moment?” she asked. She took Eddie by the arm and pulled him a little further away from the others. Eddie was struggling to control his emotions. If he weren’t so ashamed, he would have collapsed to the floor in sobs. Violet’s determination, however, was hidden behind the tears in her eyes.

“I can endure five minutes,” Violet said. The determination in her voice made Eddie feel even more helpless.

“I know the dose they give. I know this torture they used to do in the past. As long as they don’t exceed a certain dose, I can endure it. When I confronted Wilson about it, he said they only give the ‘legally permitted’ dose. That makes it 100 volts. Five minutes won’t cause severe trauma to my body. I’ll just recover slower than you did. Maybe by then, we’ll be free.”

Eddie gritted his teeth as he looked at Violet. “No matter what I say, you won’t back down, will you?” he asked.

Violet slowly shook her head to indicate no. Her decision was final. Eddie realized that she would proceed with this dangerous plan with or without him. If it was going to happen, at least he had to be by her side.

Together, they returned to the others. The group, looking at them with curious eyes, was impatient to learn what their decision was. Eddie carefully raised his finger and pointed at each of them one by one.

“If anything happens to her, it’s on you. I will never forgive you,” he said. His face was serious and threatening. These words created a slight sense of relief within the group, but the fear was still evident in their eyes.

Oliver finalized the plan and distributed tasks. “Go and tell Robert that you’ve rejected his offer. John, you go and inform Brendon. When they take Violet, we’ll be ready. As soon as we get the files, you tell Robert you’ll write the statement he wants. When they take Violet to the infirmary, we’ll get you all out of here. But we can’t all fit in one car.”

Violet smiled. This smile lightened the tension in the room, even if just a little. “My car is still parked outside. I’m sure the keys are in the guesthouse. You get the keys, and we’ll find someone to drive,” she said.

Steve raised his hand and volunteered. “I’ll drive.”

When Eddie told Robert that he was rejecting his offer, the expression of shock on Robert's face said it all. He had been completely sure his plan would work, but seeing Eddie refuse the offer made it inevitable that he would become suspicious. In response, Eddie, thinking that Robert might already be suspecting something, bluffed, “You wouldn’t dare anyway.” But deep down, he knew Robert would.

In the dim light of the room, Eddie held Violet tightly. Today could be the day. They had to understand that sometimes you have to lose to win. His eyes had been brimming with tears since the morning, and now they were starting to burn. As the memories of what he had experienced in this room before came rushing back, he began to tremble.

When they started laying Violet down on that stretcher, he questioned how he had been convinced to go along with such a stupid plan.

He tried to stand up and go to Violet, but the guards immediately moved to grab him by the arms and forced him back into the chair. His attempts to intervene were futile. As they began smearing that gelatinous, sticky substance on Violet’s forehead, the helplessness inside him grew.

“Stop! I’ll write the statement! Wait! Don’t do this! Don’t touch her!” he shouted.

Violet looked at him and gave him a pained smile, a single tear sliding down her cheek. She slowly shook her head, signaling no. At that moment, Eddie froze. Was this all part of a plan?

The door opened, and Brendon entered the room. His icy blue eyes met Eddie’s, and he shook his head no. Eddie wondered why Brendon wasn’t rummaging through the cabinets and hurrying to find the files. His mind was in chaos… but deep down, he knew the truth.

Violet had planned everything, solely to prevent Eddie from writing that statement and taking the blame. There were no files to be found, and no one was coming to retrieve those stupid files.

Eddie was furious with himself for even thinking that the files might still be there. Those men had probably already fed them to the shredder.

Violet had warned the others to stop Eddie from surrendering himself and ending up in the electric chair. She had orchestrated this as a way to sacrifice herself to save him. And now, Eddie was forced to watch her suffer.

He struggled against the chair, but three men held him down tightly, making it impossible to move. The tears streaming down his face blurred his vision.

Robert walked around to stand behind Eddie, placed his hands on Eddie’s shoulders, and forced his head to stay fixed on Violet. Leaning down, he mockingly whispered in Eddie’s ear, “I hope your freedom is worth this, Munson.”

Eddie tried to turn his head, but no matter what he did, it was useless. His movements were completely ineffective. Arthur stuffed a cloth resembling a gag into Violet’s mouth.

“Try not to scream too much,” he said before putting on his gloves.

Eddie was overwhelmed with unbearable helplessness. His voice had gone hoarse from screaming, and now all he could do was plead in faint whispers. Arthur turned to the nurse beside him and calmly gave instructions.

“Let’s start with 150 volts.”

“Please stop!” Eddie screamed. Manager Wilson and several guards had also entered the room, making it so crowded that it was difficult to move. Three guards held Eddie down firmly, while Robert kept his head fixed on Violet. Two nurses were holding Violet down on the bed.

Violet’s hands and feet were tightly strapped to the bed. One of the nurses was waiting to check her pulse, while the other was ensuring Violet didn’t move too much during the electroshock. The nurse picked up the electroshock device next to the machine and handed it to Arthur.

Everyone in the room watched in fear, wondering if Arthur would really go through with it. As Arthur prepared the shock device, a nun entered the room and stood by Violet’s bedside. “May God forgive your sins,” she whispered to Violet.

Violet’s fear-filled eyes were testing Eddie’s limits. Eddie was crying so much he could no longer speak. With all the strength he had left, he begged Robert.

“I’ll write whatever you want. I’ll sign anything you ask. Kill me right now. Please, kill me. I’m begging you, kill me but don’t let them touch her!”

Eddie glanced at Brendon, hoping he might help somehow, but Brendon was just standing there, frozen in fear, waiting for what was about to happen. At this point, only God could help them.

Dr. Arthur positioned the shock device on Violet’s head. He glanced at the clock hanging on the wall, then took a deep breath.

Arthur turned to Eddie and yelled angrily, “Shut him up, or I’ll increase the voltage!”

Robert grabbed one of the cloths from the nearby table and shoved it harshly into Eddie’s mouth. Eddie’s screams echoed throughout the room. Even God seemed to have abandoned them.

When Arthur pressed the button on the control panel, one of the nurses holding Violet checked the pulse in her neck. The other glanced at her watch while gripping Violet’s arm tightly. The nun standing at the head of the bed tried to steady the part of the electroshock device touching Violet’s head. The electricity was so strong that the lights on the ceiling dimmed and flickered constantly. Eddie’s guttural, animal-like cries grew more muffled.

Arthur spoke without taking his eyes off the device. “Let’s make it 200 volts.”

Brendon stepped forward and shouted angrily, “Are you insane?! You’re going to kill her!”

Arthur ignored Brendon’s words as if they were nothing more than the buzzing of a fly. He continued turning the dial on the machine to increase the voltage. One of the nurses holding Violet shouted in a panicked voice, “Her pulse is racing! She can’t take it!”

Violet’s initial screams had turned into gasps and choking sounds, as though she were struggling to breathe. Her entire body convulsed uncontrollably. Tears streamed from her eyes, and her entire body trembled, down to every strand of hair. Meanwhile, Eddie was writhing in helpless desperation, the nails of those restraining him digging into his skin.

Suddenly, Robert exclaimed, “What the hell is that? For Christ’s sake…” Everyone turned their heads to follow Robert’s gaze. The nun had momentarily pulled the electroshock device away from Violet’s head.

Violet continued to convulse. The electricity coursing through her body caused her muscles and joints to seize involuntarily.

At first, Eddie thought everyone was staring at him. But when Robert slowly removed his hands from Eddie’s head and stepped back, Eddie lifted his head and followed Robert’s gaze. Looking at the door, Eddie realized that everyone in the room was staring in fear at the same spot.

It all happened in an instant. When Eddie looked in that direction, he nearly fell off his chair in terror. The nurse standing next to Brendon was slowly rising into the air. Her pupils had turned completely white, and she appeared to be in a trance. Eddie had seen this sight before. Three times, to be exact: with Chrissy, Jason’s friend Patrick, and Violet.

It was him. Vecna was here.

As everyone ran toward the nurse now floating near the ceiling, Arthur, Wilson, and Robert seemed frozen in shock, rooted to the spot. Eddie’s thoughts were clear: He wasn’t crazy. He wasn’t a killer. The proof was here, alive, for everyone to see. Now everyone would know that Eddie hadn’t made all this up and that everything he’d said was true.

When the nurse’s right arm suddenly snapped, everyone in the room started to scatter in panic. Female nurses and nuns were screaming at the top of their lungs. Eddie began crawling on the floor, trying to make his way toward Violet’s bed. He didn’t care about the kicks and stomps from the frantic people running past him. He couldn’t control his hands or feet out of sheer terror. His brain had shut down, and his movements were reduced to instinctive thrashing. Finally, he reached the stretcher where Violet lay.

Brendon suddenly appeared, running toward him. He grabbed Eddie by the arm and pulled him to his feet. Without saying a word, Brendon began dragging him toward the door. Eddie, bewildered, protested.

“Wait! What are you doing?! I have to get Violet!” he shouted.

Brendon angrily grabbed Eddie by the shoulder and shoved him toward the door. “Go save yourself! Go! I’ll take care of her!” he said firmly.

Eddie tried to re-enter the room, but just then, he saw the lightbulb inside explode. Screams echoed in the darkness. Someone else inside had been taken, now a victim of Vecna.

At the end of the corridor, Steve and Jonathan appeared. They ran toward Eddie and grabbed him by the arms, dragging him away. Eddie resisted with all his might, but when he tried to speak, he felt the pain in his throat. As he saw Brendon rushing back inside, everything became blurry. His vision darkened, and silence enveloped him.

When he opened his eyes again, he realized they were driving through rows of trees. His head was resting against the window, and they were in a car. As his vision cleared, his eyes focused on the sign by the roadside, "Welcome to Hawkins!"

Eddie suddenly straightened up, causing Jonathan, who had been dozing in the seat next to him, to wake up and look at him. “Hey... You’re awake. Are you okay?” Jonathan asked softly.

Eddie realized he was in the back seat. When he looked ahead, he saw Hopper in the driver’s seat and Steve next to him. Both were looking back at him with curious expressions. A frustrated smile spread across Eddie’s face.

“Am I okay?! What am I doing here, huh?! Take me back to the hospital right now!” he yelled angrily.

Jonathan explained in a calm voice, “Your innocence was proven, Eddie. The judge saw Max’s statement. Plus, Manager Wilson signed off this morning saying you’re not insane. Right now, the culprit, ‘Henry,’ is being hunted everywhere. If they can catch him. You’re free now.”

Eddie clenched his teeth and said in an icy voice, “Stop the car.” Hopper kept driving. Eddie shouted louder this time, “I said stop the car!” Hopper slammed the brakes, and the car came to an abrupt halt. Eddie opened the door and started walking away without looking back.

Steve ran after him, trying to catch up. “Eddie! How do you plan to get to Michigan from here?! On foot?!” he asked, concerned.

Eddie stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and asked without turning around, “Is Violet dead, Steve?”

Steve stayed silent for a while. The expression on his face made it clear he was trying to avoid answering. Eventually, he turned around, looked at the others, and scratched the back of his neck.

Eddie shouted angrily, “Do you expect me to leave her and John there and come here to start my ‘new life’? If they’re still in there and I’m out, it’s my fault! How could you leave without them?!”

Hopper approached him calmly and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Our priority was getting you out, son,” he said in a serious tone.

Eddie took a step back, causing Hopper’s hand to fall from his shoulder. He raised his hands to his head, nearly pulling at his hair. “Take me back there. I need to get them out. I have to save them,” he said. He was trying to speak angrily, but his voice sounded like that of a desperate victim pleading for their life.

This time, Jonathan stepped forward and spoke to Eddie. “Eddie, it was Violet and John who made us promise to get you out of there safely and bring you here. No matter the cost, we swore. They want you to move on with your life.”

Eddie quickly approached Jonathan and shoved him. Jonathan looked surprised but didn’t retaliate. Eddie continued angrily, “Isn’t Nancy your girlfriend? If the same thing happened to her, would you leave her there and move on with your life?”

He stepped aside and then moved toward Steve, shoving him too. “What if it were Robin in there? Isn’t she the sister you never had? Would you leave her there and start a new life?” he said, his voice trembling.

Eddie’s eyes filled with tears as he added, “You might love me, but if I survived in there, it’s because of them. Do you understand what you’re asking of me now?”

Hopper took a deep breath, removed his hat, and held it tightly in his hands. He was trying to find the right words. “Son, even if you went back there right now, they wouldn’t let you see them. We need a plan. Right now, you’re the only witness who knows what’s happening there. We can’t let them take you back inside. We have to think logically,” he said firmly.

Eddie, trying to believe but still hopeless, asked, “How?”

Hopper shrugged and replied, “We’ll get a search warrant. You’ll tell the national media everything that happened there. We’ll shut that disgusting place down for good, and no one will ever go near it again. But we can’t do it this way. Even the worst plan is better than no plan. You can’t just go back there on a whim.”

When Hopper gestured toward the car with his head, Eddie turned back to Jonathan and looked him in the eyes. “Is Violet dead?” he asked.

Steve chose to speak this time. He bit his lip and answered with pain in his voice. “She’s not dead. But it can’t be said that she’s alive either. They practically fried her brain. Filthy bastards,” he said angrily. Eddie, trying to stay calm, walked toward the car. About half an hour later, they reached the town center. But just then, a large crowd began running toward the car. Eddie, trying to figure out what was happening, glanced at the others in the car. They were just as confused as Eddie. When Hopper stopped the car, Eddie slowly got out.

This crowd consisted of the people of Hawkins. Dustin was at the forefront. He ran to Eddie and hugged him, and then the other kids followed, wrapping themselves around him. Max, on the other hand, stood at a distance, looking at Eddie with an embarrassed expression. Her eyes were brimming with tears, and she stood silently.

Max spoke with a trembling voice. “They told you what I did to you… I’m so sorry…” Eddie felt the moment, surrounded by the kids. Struggling, he reached out his hand toward Max. When he made a slight nod, as if to say, “Come on,” Max hesitated no longer and ran to him, hugging him tightly as well. Eddie realized how much he had missed them. These kids were his family. Since his uncle’s death, they had never left him alone. Then, he turned to the crowd waiting ahead. After letting go of the kids, he walked into the midst of the crowd. The expression on everyone’s face was the same: guilt. A deathly silence prevailed. Eddie began looking at the banners they held and read each one out loud, in a clear voice. “We’re so sorry, Eddie.”“We’re so happy you’re back home.”“We knew you were innocent.”“We’re sorry.” As he read each banner, Eddie burst into more hysterical laughter. Eventually, his laughter ceased, and he placed his hands on his hips, giving the crowd a stern look.

“You can take your apologies and shove them up your ass,” he said, as parents hurriedly tried to cover their children’s ears. Eddie stepped closer to them and continued, his voice filled with anger. “Why are you covering their ears? You let them hear the disgusting stories you told about me, didn’t you?” he said, his voice trembling with rage and pain. Eddie looked into each person’s face. He stepped toward the crowd and raised his voice. “A week ago, the same people who wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger if they saw me on the street are now looking me in the face and apologizing, is that it?” he said. The fury in his words pierced through the silence like a knife. He took another step and his tone grew louder. “You’re the same people who didn’t believe me when I said I was innocent, the ones who collected signatures to send me to the electric chair without a trial. Do you realize that?” Hopper, leaning against his car with his hat in hand, watched the scene unfold. Those surrounding Eddie followed his every move, curious about what he would do next. Eddie walked toward the banners in people’s hands. He grabbed them one by one and threw them to the ground. Then he turned to Hopper and asked for his lighter. Hopper silently handed it over. Eddie bent down and lit one of the banners. The fire quickly spread to the others. Eddie stood in front of the burning banners and raised his voice even more. “Because of the music I listen to, the clothes I wear, the hair on my head, because I wasn’t one of you, you've targeted me. Because that’s what you are. You always judge a book by its cover. You called me a murderer, but while the real killer of those kids was out there, you wasted time chasing the wrong person, making you the true killers of lost time. You’re the reason my grieving uncle took his own life. These banners you wrote with your bloodstained hands have now ruined two more innocent lives. If only once… just once, you had chosen to believe me…” Eddie’s throat tightened; he couldn’t swallow. Steve and Robin quietly approached him, taking him by the arms. They tried to lead him away from the crowd. Eddie turned once more to look at the burning banners and the guilt-ridden faces staring back at him. The pain and anger inside him grew larger with each passing moment. This town owed him a youth. It owed him a graduation. It owed him a family.

They were finally sitting in Mike’s house, in the basement. They were waiting for a voice to come through the walkie-talkie placed in the middle of the table. Before leaving the hospital, Steve had left a walkie-talkie with Brendon. Somehow, when the lights went out and the doors were locked, John would be able to reach them through this walkie-talkie.

Eddie’s eyes kept glancing at the clock. He felt like time wasn’t moving. Back in Chassell, evening would fall quickly, and the doors would shut in no time. But here, in Hawkins, it was as if time had stopped. A voice came through the walkie-talkie, filling the room. “Is anyone there?” Eddie grabbed the walkie-talkie reflexively. “Oh my God... John, is that you?” he asked, his voice trembling with both hope and fear. John’s voice echoed through, cutting the static. “Thank God you’re okay, Ed!” Eddie’s voice was filled with desperation. “John. Please tell me. Is Violet okay?” The voice from the walkie-talkie went silent for a moment. The quiet made everyone in the room more impatient. Then John’s voice echoed again, slow and hesitant. “As okay as she can be.” Eddie’s voice wavered between hope and despair. “Can I talk to her? Please. Can Brendon take the walkie-talkie to her?” John remained silent for a moment, then spoke in a regretful tone. “I don’t think that’s possible, Eddie.” Eddie’s determination was evident in his voice. “We’ll come there tomorrow with a warrant. We’re going to get you out of there.” John took a deep breath, his voice full of sorrow. “Dr. Oliver submitted a petition to the board saying Violet had overcome a critical condition. They’re going to transfer her to another hospital.” Eddie quickly asked, his voice filled with concern, “Where?” John’s response was vague and helpless. “I don’t know, but you better hurry. Eddie, I hate to say this, but I don’t think there’s much left of Violet anymore.” Eddie’s face turned pale, and fear was evident in his eyes. “What do you mean?” he asked, his voice cracking. His hands wouldn’t stop trembling. John spoke quickly to end the conversation. “I have to go. Manager Wilson has increased security. He’s terrified because of the things he saw related to Vecna. We’ll talk later, Eddie.” As the voice from the walkie-talkie faded, Eddie threw it onto a chair. He paced the room, consumed by anger and helplessness. “Damn it. I have to go there. I have to get in.” Dustin spoke, his face filled with worry and disbelief. “Eddie, have you lost your mind? We literally risked our lives to get you out of there. You just got out. Now you want to go back in?” Without thinking, Eddie ran to Eleven. He grabbed her shoulders and looked into her eyes. “Can you reach Violet? Please.” Eleven shrugged, her expression uncertain. “Do you have a photo or something that belongs to her?” Eddie paused for a moment, then shouted in frustration. “Damn it. No.” At that moment, Lucas suddenly spoke with excitement. “No, wait! We do!” Everyone turned their curious eyes to Lucas. He was quickly rummaging through the magazines and newspapers on the table. “Here it is!” he said, holding up a newspaper clipping and handing it to Eddie. Eddie stared at the clipping in his hands, focusing on the photo. It was taken the day they escaped from the hospital, after a car accident. The photo showed the crashed car, along with John, Eddie, and Violet. He read the text beneath the image silently, each word catching in his throat like a lump. “Two patients who escaped from a mental hospital and the hostage doctor they took with them were involved in a car accident. One of the patients and the young doctor died at the scene.” This report had been the trap set to admit Violet into the hospital as a patient, ensuring her family wouldn’t come after her. With trembling hands, he handed the newspaper to Eleven. He also took off the bandana from his head and gave it to her so she could blindfold herself. Silence filled the room. Everyone was waiting for Eleven to try reaching Violet. A few minutes later, Eleven pulled the bandana from her eyes and looked at Eddie. She slowly shook her head no. Max walked over to Eddie and hugged him. She gently wiped away the tear that had fallen from his eye. “Don’t be sad,” she said softly. “When I fell into a coma, El couldn’t reach me at first either. But now I’m here.”

Hopper placed the paper on Wilson’s desk and then slammed his fist onto the table. His face was taut with anger. “We have a warrant to search for Violet George. If I want, I’ll tear this place apart,” he said, his voice filled with determination. Wilson, however, didn’t back down. In a composed manner, he replied, “You can’t search for Violet. Because there’s no such person .” These words pushed Eddie over the edge. He strode quickly toward Wilson, but Steve immediately stepped in front of him to stop him. Eddie’s anger was written all over his face. Hopper fixed a hard stare on Wilson. “Wilson, are you not afraid of what’s coming your way?” he asked. Nodding toward Eddie, he added, “You’re really testing my limits not to let Eddie destroy you.” Wilson didn’t flinch. He responded coldly, “You can’t search for Violet because there’s no such person here. Yes, a temporary doctor was assigned to handle her case while Eddie was here. And that doctor died in a car accident. Try keeping up with the news.” Eddie took a furious step forward and shouted his question. “If she died in the accident, where’s her body? Where’s her grave?” Wilson replied with a mocking tone, “That information is only available to family members. And you’re not one of them, Mr. Munson.” Eddie’s hands were clenched into fists, trembling with rage. Hopper, however, took a deep breath and signaled with a nod for them to leave. Eddie couldn’t believe how quickly Hopper was giving up. He looked at him in shock, but Hopper’s face betrayed no emotion. Once they were outside the hospital, Eddie could no longer contain his anger and started shouting. “You said you’d get her out! I trusted you!” His voice was thick with both frustration and helplessness. Hopper calmly placed a hand on Eddie’s shoulder and said in a reassuring tone, “We need to get back in there. I mean you.” Then, with a faint smile, he added, “We’re going to bury these bastards in a septic tank, son.” Eddie paused, taken aback by Hopper’s resolve. Slowly, a smile returned to his face, and he nodded in agreement.

After dropping Eddie off in front of the hospital’s guesthouse, Hopper quickly drove away. He had mentioned a soldier friend of his, someone he spoke highly of. It was a name Eddie had heard before but had never met. This person was one of Hopper’s connections from Russia. Hopper had said they could help and even alert U.S. National Security. But while Hopper was handling his affairs, Eddie was determined to get back inside. The sky was slowly darkening, providing the perfect backdrop for another covert mission. Eddie noticed a tall figure approaching from the distance. It was clearly a man. Speaking to himself in a low voice, he thought, “I hope it’s Robert. So I can give that bastard what he deserves.” It wasn’t who he was expecting, but if Robert showed up, Eddie knew exactly what he would do to him. Anger burned like fire in Eddie’s veins. What Robert had done to them would not go unpunished. A list ran through his mind: Dr. Arthur, Manager Wilson, Prosecutor Robert... These were at the top of his target list. And then there was the nun who stood over Violet and gave her electroshock, and the male nurse who had walked with him when he first arrived at the hospital. All of their faces were etched into Eddie’s memory. He believed it was his duty to make these assholes pay, especially since the police seemed to be doing nothing. But Eddie couldn’t help asking himself: “Am I strong enough? Am I brave enough?” He had never been in a serious fight beyond high school scuffles with other teens. Yet he was convinced that these people didn’t deserve to breathe. Eddie wouldn’t let the fate of the past dictate his future. The things he once believed in had been lost under Vecna’s chains. But now there was no running. Only fighting.

When he realized the approaching person was Oliver, he stood up from the sidewalk where he had been sitting. The person he had been waiting for was finally in front of him. Oliver looked surprised when he saw Eddie. Quickly, he pushed his curly hair away from his eyes with his hands and took a step toward Eddie, extending his hand. “Eddie? What are you doing here? You left, I thought they saved you,” he said, his voice full of astonishment. Eddie gave a bittersweet smile. He wanted to show Oliver the determination in his eyes. “It would be better if we talked somewhere more private,” he said, and Oliver nodded, motioning for him to follow.

As they entered the guesthouse, Eddie took a long look at the door he believed once belonged to Violet’s room while climbing the stairs. He couldn’t think about anything but Violet. The regret inside him was growing. “I wish I had never dragged her into this,” he thought to himself. But what was done was done, and Eddie needed to find a way out of this chaos.

When Eddie and Oliver entered Oliver’s room in the guesthouse, Oliver threw the bag in his hand into a corner. He loosened his tie with his hand and took a deep breath. “What do you want to drink?” he asked, heading toward the fridge. Eddie, trying to maintain his composure, replied, “Something cold would be nice.” Oliver took two cans of soda from the fridge and handed one to Eddie. He sat on the opposite couch and opened his can. After a brief silence, he spoke. “You’re here to ask about Violet,” Oliver said, looking directly into Eddie’s eyes. Eddie hadn’t opened his soda yet. His eyes were filled with anger and despair. “Nobody’s telling me anything about her,” he said. “Oliver, you’re her doctor. I know you know something. And don’t think I’ve forgotten the dirty game you played with Violet. You tricked me! You let her sacrifice herself for me! But I still need you. Please, tell me, is she okay?”

Oliver placed the soda on the coffee table. He clasped his hands together and remained silent for a moment. He seemed to be choosing his words carefully. Finally, he spoke, “Eddie, the dose of electricity Violet received caused significant damage to her brain nerves. I don’t think she can even handle her most basic needs on her own right now. I don’t know when—or if—it will pass. I think she may have sustained permanent damage.” These words drove Eddie mad. “Do you think ?!” he shouted, leaping to his feet. His eyes were blazing with anger. “For God’s sake, did you study all those years to get that medical degree for nothing? Don’t you understand what’s happening to your patient? How is she?!” Oliver continued in a calm tone, unfazed by Eddie’s anger. “Eddie, mental illnesses are not like physical illnesses. When you have the flu, you get treated, we give you medicine, and tell you when you’ll recover. But we can’t predict when a virus growing in the mind will pass. I don’t know Violet’s condition, and I won’t be able to assess the extent of the damage for some time. She can’t even speak.”

Eddie turned to Oliver in horror. His eyes were filled with desperation. “I need to see her, Oliver. I’m begging you. Help me get in there,” he said, his voice both pleading and determined. Oliver took a deep breath and shook his head negatively. “The person you want to talk to isn’t an ordinary patient. And I can’t arrange a visit for you with a patient who is officially recorded as deceased. Wilson and the others are breathing down my neck. They’re just waiting for a chance to lock me up in blue clothes as well.” Eddie continued impatiently, “I didn’t ask you to arrange a visit for me. Get me in. As a patient. ”

Oliver raised his eyebrows in shock. He looked at Eddie as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “You just got out of there, and you’ve already forgotten how you got out? If you go back in, you might never get out again. Are you insane?!” Eddie stared directly into Oliver’s eyes and replied, “If I were insane, would you admit me?” Oliver gave a faint smile. “I still wouldn’t, Eddie. We promised Violet… We would save you.”

Eddie angrily sat back down on the couch. His hands were clenched into fists, and his eyes burned with rage. “If one more person says that, the next one is getting punched. Enough already. Didn’t you come here looking for Ginny, Oliver? Aren’t you staying in this disgusting place because you think she’s here? Would you leave?” he asked, his voice rising in fury.

Oliver met Eddie’s words with a moment of silence. Instead of answering, he headed inside. A short while later, he returned with a pillow and a blanket in his hands. He tossed them onto Eddie. “Get some rest tonight. We’ll see what we can do tomorrow,” he said in a soft tone.

Eddie had been staying in Oliver's room at the same guesthouse for three weeks. During this time, they made a plan every day, but something always went wrong. Eddie needed to get inside; every second without news from Violet and John was growing heavier. Three weeks had passed, and he hadn’t heard anything about them. He had seen Brendon a few times from the window, but Oliver warned Eddie strictly not to make any contact with him. Oliver had mentioned that Violet’s condition had slightly improved, but it wasn’t enough for Eddie. He couldn’t even imagine how bad Violet’s state was. His patience was running thin.

Meanwhile, Hopper kept calling and asking if Eddie had gotten into the hospital yet. When Eddie turned off the stove after heating some canned food in the kitchen, he heard the door lock turn and stood up. When Oliver walked in, his face was filled with triumph. Eddie raised his eyebrows and looked at him curiously.

Oliver’s face was glowing with excitement. “It worked, Eddie!” he said enthusiastically. Eddie asked in surprise, “What? How?!”

Oliver continued smiling as he explained. “You’re going back to that hospital tomorrow.”

Eddie smiled and gestured toward the table with his head. Oliver excitedly rushed to the table and sat down. He pulled out a file from his bag and slid it in front of Eddie.

Eddie picked up the file and began to go through it. It was an application form. It belonged to a family from a farm in Detroit who had applied to the hospital, claiming their son was “possessed by the devil.”

Eddie looked at Oliver with confusion. Oliver smirked slightly and pointed. “Look at the child’s name and surname.” Eddie glanced at the corner of the file and read the name written there: Edward Francis Munson. A surprised smile appeared on his face. “All the Edward Munsons in the country must be nuts, I guess,” he said sarcastically.

Suddenly, a realization hit him, and he asked quickly, “Wait a second, are you going to get me inside pretending I’m this kid?” Oliver grinned and nodded. Eddie hesitated for a moment but couldn’t hold back his objection. “But what if the kid’s family comes in and asks about the application status? And everyone in that hospital knows me. They’ll know I’m not this kid. Wilson will never let me in.” Oliver spoke with confidence. “The kid’s family applied to several hospitals along with this one. And right now, one of them has already accepted them. We even had a document confirming their acceptance, but guess what—I ‘accidentally’ fed it to the shredder...”

Eddie was first shocked, then burst into laughter. “Alright, the family won’t come. How are you going to get me inside?” he asked. Oliver maintained eye contact with Eddie as he spoke decisively. “I’m a doctor, remember? If I submit a petition diagnosing you as ‘schizophrenic’ and get this file approved, once they realize there’s another Eddie, it will already be too late. They’ll think they’ve admitted another Eddie. And don’t forget—they’ve already issued death certificates for two living people. They’re aware of this. If they try to kick you out after admitting you, they’ll be in trouble because it’ll be revealed that they issued fake death certificates for you. So, Eddie, I’m asking you one last time. Do you really want to go in? Because you might never come back out.”

Eddie nodded without hesitation. “I accept the risk,” he said.

The next day, Eddie was waiting in front of the hospital doors. He ignored the curious glances from the staff passing by, merely raising his middle finger at them mockingly. At that moment, Oliver came running out of the hospital and approached Eddie. He motioned with his head that they needed to move. Eddie followed Oliver.

The pair headed toward the laundry room they had gone to the first time they entered the hospital. When they entered the laundry room, the same secretary, with the same indifferent attitude, gestured toward the section with clean clothes. Eddie removed his rings. As he started taking off the sleeveless denim jacket he wore over his leather jacket, the secretary was watching him closely. While taking off his t-shirt, he winked at the elderly secretary and headed to the section with clean clothes to put on the blue clothes.

After putting on the blue clothes he returned to Oliver, who was waiting by the door. “Can I go see Violet now?” he asked. Oliver shook his head. “First, we have another task. We’re going to the manager’s office,” he said. Eddie nodded in agreement. As they walked down the corridor, Eddie saw Brendon coming from the other direction. Brendon initially glanced at Eddie and turned his head away. But a second later, he froze and turned back to Eddie.

Brendon’s eyes widened as he recognized Eddie at the end of the corridor. He struggled to catch his breath as he spoke in astonishment. “Eddie?! You... This clothes... What are you doing here?!” Eddie smiled and responded calmly. “I’ll explain everything. Can you bring John and Violet to the common room? I’ll be there shortly.” Brendon, unsure how to respond to this unexpected request, nodded and quickly walked away. Eddie and Oliver had reached Manager Wilson’s office. With a sly grin on his face, Oliver knocked on the door and went inside. Eddie could hear the conversation inside clearly as he waited outside.

Wilson began speaking in an irritated tone. “What is it now, Oliver?” Then Arthur’s stern voice followed. “Didn’t we tell you not to come here unless it’s something important?” Oliver didn’t seem to take the situation seriously. He replied in a relaxed manner. “I want to introduce you to the patient you admitted today.” Wilson sounded exasperated. “Are we supposed to meet every patient we admit? Get out.” Oliver chuckled and added, “You’ll want to meet this one. Eddie, come on in.” Eddie pushed the door open and stepped inside. The expression that appeared on Wilson and Arthur’s faces was pure shock. Eddie watched this change with great delight. The satisfaction on his face was almost a challenge to the dismayed mood of those in front of him. Wilson quickly opened the drawer next to him and pulled out a file. He flipped through the pages so fast that they almost tore. Finally, he stood up and angrily pointed his finger at Oliver. "You... You played us, didn’t you? You tricked us. Do you think you’re very clever?" Oliver didn’t seem affected by Wilson’s threatening demeanor. He spoke calmly. "If you want, you can discharge Eddie right now. But that will lead to two outcomes. First, a public lawsuit will be filed against you for endangering public safety by releasing a potentially dangerous 'schizophrenic' patient without completing their treatment. Or Eddie will sue you after being discharged because you admitted the wrong person and kept someone innocent here. In short, Manager, you’ve stepped in it. You have no choice but to keep him here." Arthur, who had been quietly listening to Oliver, turned to Eddie with a conflicted expression. "You shouldn’t be here," he said. Wilson glared at Eddie with a displeased look, while Arthur stepped forward and began speaking in a threatening tone. "You think you’ve done something clever by coming here. Right now, you’re nothing more than a lamb that’s returned to the wolves’ den." Eddie, unfazed by the threat, replied. "Want to give it a try? This time, we won’t stay silent. We won’t let people like you torment people like us. By the time I’m done here, Arthur, they’ll strap you into a straitjacket and fry you." Arthur’s face reddened with anger at Eddie’s words, and he snapped back. "Do your worst, Munson." Eddie kept his composure and delivered one final remark. "Careful, or my worst might blow up somewhere inappropriate for you." Despite Arthur’s shocked expression, Eddie merely stared at him coldly. Oliver took Eddie by the arm and led him out of the room. Together, they walked toward the common room.

In the common room, Brendon and John were sitting on a couch. The moment John saw Eddie, he jumped up and quickly embraced him. Tears streamed down his face. "You’re an idiot, Eddie. You’re an idiot for coming back here," he murmured. Eddie hugged John tightly in return. His eyes were searching for someone else. John noticed that Eddie was looking for Violet, and his expression suddenly turned serious. Bowing his head slightly, he spoke. "I wanted to warn you before you see her, Eddie. I’m not sure if you can handle it. Actually, I asked Oliver to wait a few weeks before bringing you in. Seeing her in those first moments wouldn’t have done you any good. She’s a bit better now." Eddie interrupted John’s explanations, impatiently asking, "Where is she?" The lump in Eddie’s throat made it hard to breathe and swallow. John nodded toward Brendon. Brendon silently left the common room and returned a few minutes later, walking with someone holding onto his arm. Eddie froze for a moment when he saw that person. Was that... Violet? Violet was stumbling as she walked and struggling to stay upright. Her gaze was vacant and fearful as she glanced around. Even from a distance, it was clear her mind was in disarray. With each step, she looked at Brendon in fear. Brendon spoke softly, encouragingly, as if trying to reassure her. "It’s okay. We’re almost there." Eddie noticed the red scars on either side of Violet’s forehead. The wounds had scabbed over, and some areas had stitches. The sight made Eddie’s hands tremble. He couldn’t stop the tears welling up in his eyes. Violet and Brendon had barely managed to cover a few steps in a minute because of Violet’s frightened and shaky movements. John watched Eddie’s face, waiting for his reaction. But Eddie didn’t know what to say. Violet was standing in front of him, but she wasn’t the Violet he knew. An indescribable fear filled him. Brendon walked over to Eddie and placed a hand on his shoulder. "This is her good state, buddy," he said. "At least she can form sentences. She couldn’t even swallow without help before." Brendon’s attempt to console him only deepened Eddie’s pain. When Violet finally reached Eddie, she still wasn’t lifting her head. Eddie gently held her face with his hands and raised it. "Violet?..." he said, his voice trembling. Violet looked into Eddie’s eyes, frightened. The fear in her eyes was unmistakable. Eddie, feeling like she might break if he touched her, slowly pulled his hands back. At the same time, Violet took a step back and hid behind John. Like a child embarrassed and hiding behind a parent, Violet peeked at Eddie from over John’s shoulder. Then she leaned into John’s ear and whispered. Her voice was soft but clear enough for Eddie to hear. Violet tilted her head toward John’s shoulder and whispered fearfully, "John... I don’t know him..." After those words, tears streamed uncontrollably down Eddie’s face. John bit his lip and grimaced, hugging Violet tightly. As Violet’s sobs grew louder, Eddie stopped trying to hold back his own tears. At that moment, Oliver moved to Eddie’s other side. "For now, she only trusts me and John," he said quietly. "She doesn’t recognize anyone else. We don’t know when she’ll come around or start remembering things." Eddie couldn’t find anything to say. The lump in his throat felt like a sharp blade, making it impossible to swallow. John looked into Eddie’s eyes and spoke firmly. "But that’s not our biggest problem," he said with determination. Eddie fixed his gaze on John. What could be worse than this?

Oliver pointed to someone sitting in the corner. At first, Eddie couldn’t recognize who it was. There was a familiar feeling, but the person had changed so much that it was hard to remember. He was clean-shaven, wearing blue clothes, and his haggard appearance made him nearly unrecognizable. But when Eddie looked closer, he realized. This was Prosecutor Robert Hills.

When Robert saw Eddie, he stood up. Eddie held his breath. Rage enveloped his entire body, and his vision seemed to darken with fury. There was only one person responsible for Violet’s condition, and that was Robert. Dr. Arthur might have strapped her to that bed and administered the electric shocks. Manager Wilson might have turned a blind eye or even supported it. But the one who started it all, the one who pulled the pin on the grenade, was Robert.

Eddie started walking quickly toward Robert. Robert took a step back at the sight of Eddie’s furious approach. He was taller than Eddie, but that didn’t matter to Eddie in the slightest. Just before landing his fist on Robert’s face, Eddie’s expression shifted into a cold smile.

With Eddie’s first punch, Robert was pushed back against the wall behind him. He tried to shield his face with his hands, so Eddie directed his next blows to his groin, stomach, and ribcage.

As the assault intensified, Brendon and Oliver rushed to intervene, grabbing Eddie’s arms. But Eddie didn’t stop; he began kicking Robert instead. Finally, Robert fell to the ground, curling into a fetal position to protect himself.

Oliver, furious, grabbed Eddie and shoved him forcefully. “Do you want to end up in a cell your first day here, Eddie?! Get a grip!” he yelled.

At that moment, Wilson and Arthur entered the room, probably having heard the commotion. They stood there with expressions of both concern and curiosity. When they saw Eddie, they exchanged a sly smile and simply watched the scene unfold.

Arthur spoke in a mocking tone, “So, you’ve seen the big surprise, I take it.”

Eddie shouted angrily, pointing toward Robert. “What is this asshole doing here?! Did you put him here so I’d kill him and become a murderer?!”

Wilson shrugged nonchalantly and replied, “Do whatever you want with him. We’re done. Just try not to make too much of a mess. Bloodstains are hard to clean.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Wilson and Arthur turned and left the room without the slightest concern. Meanwhile, Robert struggled to his feet, clutching his stomach. Slowly, he wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth and took a deep breath.

Breaking the silence, Robert spoke in a pained tone. “If you’re going to kill me, then do it, Eddie. I don’t have much reason to live anyway.”

Eddie fixed his gaze on Robert and raised his voice. “Shut up. Don’t try to play the victim. I don’t feel a shred of pity for you, Robert. You deserve every bit of what’s happened to you.”

Robert lowered his head at Eddie’s harsh words. With a slight sigh, he said, “I can’t blame you for thinking that way. If you were in my shoes, maybe you’d understand.”

Eddie laughed bitterly. “I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. You’re a disgusting piece of trash. We trusted you, and you threw us back in here. You’re going to rot here, Robert,” he hissed.

Robert replied calmly, “So will you. You’re no different from me now.”

Eddie’s eyes darkened further. As he lunged forward to attack again, Brendon quickly grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled him back. “Can’t you see? He’s provoking you. They’ll really lock you up if you keep this up, Eddie. Let’s get out of here,” Brendon said, his voice carrying a clear warning.

Clenching his teeth, Eddie broke free from Brendon’s grip and turned away, heading toward where Violet was. Violet watched Eddie’s approach with fear. As he got closer, she retreated further, hiding behind John. Eddie tried to put on a soft and innocent smile. All he wanted was for Violet not to be afraid of him.

When Eddie reached out his hand, Violet locked eyes with him. Eddie spoke gently, “Hi, beautiful, I’m Eddie. Do you remember me?” he asked. Instead of answering, Violet looked over to the corner where Robert stood. Her gaze clearly revealed that she was now afraid of Eddie because of what he had done to Robert.

When Eddie saw that look, he bit his lip. Suppressing the wave of regret rising within him, he took another step closer and gently took Violet’s hands in his. “He’s a bad man,” he said, his voice trembling.

Then Eddie looked deeper into Violet’s eyes and continued, “I would never hurt you, Violet. I’d never let anything happen to you again. Never,” he whispered. The sincerity in his words seemed to slightly ease Violet’s apprehension. Instead of pulling her hands away, Violet held Eddie’s hands in return.

Eddie was sitting at the long and uncomfortable cafeteria table with John and the others. It had only been three days since Eddie returned to the hospital, and he had been waiting for news from Hopper ever since. Hopper claimed he was making arrangements, but whatever he was arranging, he needed to hurry. The hope inside Eddie was fading a little more with each passing day.

He looked at John sitting across from him. John was playing with his food, appearing distracted and lost in thought. Eddie turned his gaze from John to Violet sitting beside him. Violet was trying to eat, filling her spoon with soup and struggling with her shaky hand. But her wrists were so weak that the soup spilled all over her before she could even bring the spoon to her mouth.

Eddie picked up a napkin from the basket next to him and gently wiped Violet’s mouth. Then he placed his hand over Violet’s trembling one. Violet looked at Eddie with surprise.

“Hold on, sweetheart, let me help you,” Eddie said with a smile. He took Violet’s spoon and began helping her drink the soup.

John rubbed his face with his hands. Taking a deep breath, he grumbled, “How much longer is this going to go on? I can’t stand seeing her like this. We need her right now.”

Eddie set the spoon aside and raised his head slightly. “She’s in this state because of me,” he said, his voice breaking.

John sighed and looked at Eddie. “We’ve talked about this, Eddie. It was her choice. No matter what you did, she would have sacrificed herself anyway. For your freedom.”

Eddie replied sharply, “Freedom, for me, isn’t outside these walls. It’s wherever she is, John.”

John rolled his eyes and spoke in a sarcastic tone. “Dude, if you don’t get out of here, you’re not going to marry her and live happily ever after. You’ll either die from the filth here or the experiments. This place isn’t safe for anyone.”

Eddie ran his hand through his hair and chuckled lightly. “Speaking of filth, we could use a shower,” he said.

John nodded in agreement. Eddie continued, “I’ll take Violet to her room and be right back.”

When Eddie took Violet’s arm to support her, she clung tightly to him. She did this every time they were going somewhere. She held on so tightly that her nails dug into Eddie’s arm. She was afraid of everything and everyone, as if she had aged prematurely. Her memory was completely blank; she remembered nothing and no one. Eddie placed his hand over Violet’s and spoke softly.

“Baby, you’re cold,” he said. He took off his jacket and gently placed it over Violet’s shoulders. Then he leaned down and zipped it up.

Violet suddenly asked, “What day is it today?”

Eddie looked up at her, as if not understanding the question for a moment.

Violet continued with a hint of curiosity in her eyes, “Have I ever asked you this before?”

A smile spread across Eddie’s face. He stood up quickly, pulled Violet close, hugged her tightly, and stroked her hair while inhaling its scent. “Yes, my angel, you’ve asked me. Every day, you used to ask me. Do you remember?”

Violet nodded slightly in affirmation. She was beginning to remember. Eddie waited patiently. No matter how long it took, he believed Violet would get better. Even though Oliver had said Violet might regain some memories but would never be the same, Eddie didn’t want to believe it. Violet was his Violet.

After taking Violet to her room, Eddie went to the men’s bathroom. John had already filled the tub with hot water and gotten in. There was no privacy here; all the tubs were lined up side by side.

There were no curtains or stalls in the bathroom, as if the only way to prevent people from harming themselves was to leave everything open. But in this hellish place, where rapists and murderers roamed freely, was this truly the safest solution they could come up with? Lost in these thoughts, Eddie took off his clothes, threw them on the floor, and turned on the water in a tub.

He got into the tub, trying to relax. His eyes fell on John in the next tub. “Got a cigarette?” he asked, dunking his head underwater and wiping his face as he surfaced. John bent down, grabbed a cigarette, and tossed it to him. Eddie struck a match, lit his cigarette, and leaned against the edge of the tub, watching the smoke drift through the air as he sought a moment of peace.

John suddenly jolted and spoke. “Hey, someone’s coming.”

Eddie quickly flicked his cigarette to the floor. The room was already filled with steam from the hot water, so it was unlikely anyone would suspect the smoke. When Eddie saw that it was Robert who had entered, he sighed deeply and rolled his eyes. He would have to light another cigarette. Robert walked over, turned on the water, and sat on the edge of the tub as it filled, looking as if he hadn’t expected to find them there.

Eddie took a drag from his cigarette and spoke with a mocking expression. “What’s up, Robert? Here to wash away your sins?” he said, smirking slightly. Robert didn’t reply.

For three days, every time Eddie saw Robert, he made snide remarks, trying to provoke him. But no matter what Eddie did, Robert rarely reacted. Still, it was fun to mess with him like a cat playing with a mouse. Robert was terrified of Eddie, and Eddie enjoyed it.

John joined in with a laugh. “Oh, come on, Eddie. Even if Robert washed with all the water in the city, he still wouldn’t be clean. He’s got the blood of the innocent on him,” he said sarcastically.

Robert silently took off his blue shirt and looked at Eddie as he spoke. “You know, Eddie?” he said, his voice carrying a hint of mockery. Eddie looked at him with an indifferent expression. Robert continued in the same calm tone, “It doesn’t suit you to treat the only person who can help you like this.”

A look of anger spread across Eddie’s face. “Help me with what, exactly? You’re not capable of helping anyone but yourself. We’ve seen that once, and we’ve learned our lesson,” he said sharply.

Ignoring Eddie’s reaction, Robert replied, “I can heal Violet.”

With these words, Eddie slowly straightened from where he was. Holding onto both sides of the bathtub, he stood up. He grabbed the towel nearby and wrapped it around his waist. Water dripped from his hair and body, forming small puddles on the floor. As the sound of his wet footsteps echoed through the silent bathroom, he walked toward Robert. His eyes radiated sharp anger in response to the words he had just heard. "What did you say?" he asked harshly.

Robert rolled his eyes, ignoring Eddie's reaction. "You heard me," he said indifferently.

Meanwhile, John, observing the situation, burst into laughter. "A seasoned doctor can't do anything, but our little runt prosecutor is going to heal Violet? Really?" he said mockingly.

Robert tilted his head slightly and looked at John. "Do you honestly think that's my profession? A prosecutor?" he retorted.

Eddie took a deep breath and leaned against a bathtub, speaking with a disdainful expression. "You're right. Prosecutors are men of justice. The only thing you'd be fit for, Robert, is a circus freak," he said coldly.

Robert turned off the faucet filling the tub and replied in a calm tone, "Fine, if you don’t want my help, that’s your choice."

Eddie's expression hardened. "You're right, we don’t. Because there’s nothing you can do," he countered.

Robert stared at Eddie’s face for a moment before slowly stepping toward him. The distance between them was nearly gone. Eddie had to straighten up from where he was leaning. John, startled by the sudden movement, became alert. As a trained officer, he was ready for any threat and quickly stood up.

Robert extended his hand toward Eddie. As Eddie tried to figure out the meaning of this gesture, Robert turned his arm. Eddie froze in place as if rooted to the ground, staring at the tattoo on Robert’s wrist. He quickly looked over at John. John, who had approached with the towel still tied around his waist, was also looking at Robert’s extended hand.

John asked in astonishment, "003? What does that mean?"

Eddie’s voice was filled with mixed emotions. "You’re one of them… like Eleven," he said.

Robert nodded in confirmation. Eddie ran his hands over his face, muttering, "But… How? Why? What?"

Robert responded with a sly smile on his face. "You couldn’t even figure out where it was coming from, could you, Eddie? Why I was so determined to see you dead? Because he wanted it. Vecna. Henry, to be precise."

Eddie spoke as if the air had been knocked out of him. "You knew about Vecna all along. You knew about the murders. You knew everything. Even while we were running."

Robert nodded in acknowledgment of Eddie’s words.

Eddie’s gaze was fixed on Robert. The questions in his mind grew with every passing second. "I don’t understand. What are you doing here?" he asked.

Robert took a deep breath and answered with a composed expression. "I started working for Vecna, and we became… connected, in a way. If he dies, I die too. So I have to do whatever he wants. When I came here, my main goal was to have you executed. But then I realized something even Vecna didn’t know. Eddie, you’re not so different from me after all."

Eddie’s eyes narrowed further. "What do you mean?" he asked.

Robert continued, "You remember the day Violet was hooked up to the electroshock machine. Two people in the room went into a trance and died. You saw it, didn’t you?"

Unwillingly, Eddie nodded.

Robert’s words were chilling. "That wasn’t Vecna. It was you, " Robert said with conviction.

Eddie’s teeth clenched as he retorted angrily, "You’re lying."

Robert maintained his composure as if he had anticipated this reaction. "Believe me or don’t. Until that moment, even I didn’t understand. Because Vecna wasn’t there. I can feel him. I know where he is. He was definitely not there that day. And I wasn’t doing it either. Something like that requires great power, pain, and anger. And at that moment, you were the only one in the room with those feelings. You did it."

Eddie’s voice rose, filled with conflicting emotions. "I didn’t do anything! I… I don’t have any connection to Vecna! I’ve never even seen him alive!"

Robert stepped closer to Eddie and pointed to his side, where his kidneys were. "You don’t need to see him to be connected to him. The demobats bit you. Hive mind. You’re connected to him now. So Eddie, if Vecna gets hurt, if he dies, you’re connected to him. You’ll die too. You have powers you don’t even know about yet. And you don’t realize how dangerous you are."

Eddie’s eyes were burning with anger. "I don’t believe a single word you’re saying, Robert. Even if I assumed it was true, I would never serve him," he declared with determination.

Robert smirked mockingly and shrugged. "You don’t choose to serve him, idiot. He uses you whenever he wants. Since you were bitten, has he ever tried to come and hunt you down? Have you ever found yourself passed out without meaning to?" he asked.

John, overwhelmed by the conversation, raised both hands in the air. "Wait, wait. What’s a demobat? I don’t understand anything. Is someone going to explain this to me?" he asked desperately.

Robert began speaking calmly, as if giving a lecture. "Vecna was once a normal but dangerous kid with superpowers. I was the same. I was always different. But one day, in the lab where the doctor who wanted to test our power worked, something happened. A portal to another dimension was opened. Vecna is now the king there. And everything connected to that place serves him. Eddie was bitten by the creatures there. And he quite literally came back from the dead. You remember, don’t you, Eddie?"

Eddie lowered his head and said nothing.

Taking encouragement from the silence, Robert continued. "Your survival isn’t a miracle. You weren’t supposed to live. He brought you back to life. Just like he brought me back and bound me to him. Now, you were saying we’re not the same, that we’re different. Doesn’t seem so different to me, huh?"

As these words echoed in Eddie’s mind, he couldn’t help but ask another question. "What you said about Violet. Were you serious?"

Robert, exuding confidence, raised his hand and moved his fingers one by one. "I have my own tricks."

taglist:@arabellagreenleaf @cokepowder55 @nessa3nessa @25bohemianmoons @nicholaschavezslut69 @multyfangirl @t-folklore13

[eliza-and-her-monsters]

the tortured poets department

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Moodboards

Part I

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Contains/TW: depictions of autism ‘meltdowns’/panic and overstimulation, slight depictions of asthma. PSA i’m portraying amelia’s autism in similar ways to how mine works and what it does to me so if yours works differently that’s okay! ASD affects us all who have it in different ways 🖤

A/N: i will admit i struggled a bit with this one so it might not be as great. i hope you enjoy it regardless though :,) ALSO to those of you who loved Jinx and Millie’s friendship you’ll probably like this one! 🖤 (also another psa last chapter of 2024 🤭)

WC: 4.6k

Part IV

The Bolter

It felt like every inch of me was shaking as I speed-walked down the hallway towards the locker room. My arms tightly wound around myself as Vi’s words echoed in my head like an angry mantra. No, no no no… you will not victimize yourself right now. Take care of Ellie. For once just take care of someone else. It wasn’t to say I hadn’t been yelled at before, countless times I found myself on the receiving end of my parents frustrated anger or my tutors’ impatience. Even Caitlyn and I had for sure gotten into a few screaming matches before. But for some reason hearing it from Vi’s voice hurt more than anyone else’s.

I roughly wiped at my eyes before I could push my way into the locker room, momentarily forgetting about the contacts that had been shoved into them which caused me to grimace at the feeling of them shifting. I tried to blink away the blurriness as I stepped into the room. Ellie stood over the sink, already shrugged off all of her gear now clad in a simple black tank top as she carefully dabbed at the splotch underneath her eye with a wet cloth. “Ellie? A-Are you okay? How’s your head?” I questioned as I cautiously crept into the empty locker room.

“Haven’t had any complaints yet.” She joked with a shrug causing my expression to fade into a little scowl. “Relax, I’m fine. My ego’s more bruised than anything, I think.” She sighed as she whirled around to face me, cautiously pulling the cloth away from the glowing ice burn along her cheekbone.

“It’s gonna leave a sick scar, you should say ‘you should see the other guy.’” I teased, gently pressing on her shoulder to get her to sit down until she hoisted herself up on the sink.

Her lips upturned in a slight smile as she let out a little chuckle. “Except I’m pretty sure she looks a whole lot better than me.”

“Not whenever she made an ass of herself.” I spoke, eyebrows drawing together in a look of concentration as I stole the warm cloth from her hands to press to her cheekbone instead. Ellie hissed a bit in pain, curling her hands around the counter of the sink with a shuddering breath.

“Fuck, all this time out of service and it’s made my pain tolerance eat shit.” She remarked with a small cringe screwed on her face before it softened. “A-Are you okay? After what she called you? I-I don’t even know why she did it- that was so disgusting-“

“Els, I’m okay.” I confirmed, softly stroking her shoulder with my free hand. “I’ve been called worse.”

“You shouldn’t have been.” She spoke with a shake of her head, slowly and carefully the weight against my hand increasing as she leaned into my touch. “I’m sorry I- I should’ve known she was going to be an ass today after yesterday and I-I should’ve kept you from it I-”

“Ellie…” I frowned, my facial expression shifting into one that was slightly more stern as I took my other hand to hold the other side of her face with. Her green eyes were glassy, as if she was holding back an absolute avalanche of tears. So much more innocent than she would ever let herself show… except for maybe to me. “You’ve gotta stop blaming yourself for things that aren’t your fault.”

She let her eyes shift, a subtle understanding between the two of us as she peered downwards. “It’s not as if she doesn’t have a right to be angry. Her- Her dad- He was a civilian doctor on base with us.“ Her throat bobbed as she tried to recount the tale with as much strength as she could. “Some of the guys that were stationed with me were… these disgusting pigs that thought because they were in the army they had some sort of authority over civilians though and took to harassing the shit out of him basically until they were forced to move. I don’t know why she blames me… maybe I guess because I’m the only one left she can blame. Or just an easy target.” She ran a slightly shaking hand through her hair. “I’ve tried to be friends with her so many times but she just isn’t having any of it and takes so much of her anger out on me I-I don’t know what to do.”

I didn’t know what else to say, I seldom did whenever she told me some of the stories of her past. All of my own suddenly seeming to pale in comparison. She was never a fan of the narrative that it was selfish to be so depressed whenever other people ‘had it worse though. It was her who taught me that bravery came in so many different forms. Nevertheless I let my lips press to her forehead before pulling her into my arms, being propped up on the sink counter finally allowing her to snuggle her head into my shoulder as she wrapped her own arms around me.

“It’s much too difficult to not love you. I think one day she’ll see that.” I gave her another gentle squeeze, lingering there for just a second longer before I heard the swing of the door opening.

Ellie immediately slid down from the sink, moving in front of me almost protectively just before Vi stepped around the corner with that same scowl on her face, though she seemed to be trying to hide it more this time. “So, you gonna lose the eye?” She remarked with a hint of humor behind her tone as she pulled the gloves from her bruised fingers.

“Oh uhhh yeah, probably gonna have to amputate.” She teased mildly before making her way towards the lockers. “Where’s Abby?”

“Brief suspended absence… to get her shit together.” Her words seemed to hold more information than she let on. “Sevika wants you to take the rest of the day off though too since you looked pretty shaken up.”

“That’s humiliating.” Ellie huffed as she retreated back towards her locker to pull out a simple grey hoodie to pull on over her tank.

“Els, it isn’t so bad, I mean we have club rush later on today anyways, you could probably use the extra time.” I frowned once more, always trying my hardest to be positive whenever Ellie of all people couldn’t. She was always better at excelling with that kind of thing than I was.

“I guess, I just… I don’t know. How I long for ego dissolution.” She voiced with a shake of her head as she pulled a Carhartt beanie over her head. “I think I’m gonna head back to our place and hit the showers but I can meet you at club rush later on?”

“Sure, just text me.” I added just before she slung her backpack over her shoulder. Her eyes briefly glancing to mine as if she was hovering, wondering if she was safe to do our usual goodbyes. The forehead kisses and hugs, always remembering to tell each other that we loved one another. She decided against it though, just shooting me a weak smile before shuffling towards the door.

“See you, Mills.” She replied, my heart stinging in my chest as I caught my feet briefly trailing a few steps in her direction. ‘God, don’t pull away from me. Please don’t pull away from me.’

Meanwhile Vi’s presence felt like a looming ghost behind me, the burn of her eyes on my back lingering all the while. “Come here.” I heard her speak up with a clear of her throat from her spot on the bench.

My eyebrows furrowed together in frustration in response however, my arms folded across my chest as I whipped around to face her. “You know you don’t get to just tell me what to do, right? First you yell at me outside to leave you alone and now you’re actually telling me to approach you a-as if nothing happened?”

Vi started at me long and hard, eyebrows narrowing in a way that had me instantly regretting my sudden backbone. Nevertheless I tried to maintain my best Kiramman face, slanted eyebrows and darkened eyes that probably only resulted in me looking like an angry or sad puppy. “I was going to apologize.” She finally spoke up after a moment, dropping her hands to her sides as she slowly took a few steps towards me. “I just didn’t want your back towards me whenever I did.”

I drew backwards whenever her body approached mine, my breath hitching in my throat as my back suddenly hit the side of a locker even though she hadn’t even gotten that close. “I’m sorry, for raising my voice at you. I just wanted to protect you.”

“From what?” I whispered, hands shaking as I slid my arms back around my waist as if trying to give myself the illusion of someone else’s arms around me.

“From you seeing things if they went south.” Vi stated, finally dropping herself down onto one of the benches that wrapped around the lines of lockers. “Now… will you please come here?”

I probably shouldn’t have. I knew it wasn’t smart of me and I had probably well and truthfully lost the plot. Her history with my sister was enough of a reason but the addition of the other stuff, the fighting, the mysterious death that I had yet to learn about but was too afraid to ask about. It was all such a bad idea and I knew that. But every aspect of love that had ever been in my life so far had been a bad idea.

I let my feet shuffle towards her, muscular arms sliding around my waist the moment I got close and my breathing hitched in my throat once more as I felt her pulling me right onto her lap. “Does it make you uncomfortable? Me holding you like this?” She wondered, hands gently ghosting along the ends of my hoodie as if she wanted to slip them up the fabric. And I think I nearly wanted her to. “You’re always shaking.”

“No… I just- I- nobody’s ever touched me like this before.” I answered before settling my clearly trembling hands around her shoulders. I used to always shake whenever people touched me, and still did if they were new. Partially because I never knew if it was going to be a rough touch or a gentle one. The same could be said for intimacy, I had never allowed myself the graces of pleasure before. The idea of exposing myself to somebody was horrifying, being so vulnerable and laid out so bare whenever they could choose to be whichever version of themselves they wanted.

“Never?” She spoke, the smallest gasp slipping from my lips the moment I felt her hand sliding underneath the fabric of the hoodie. Calloused fingers dragging along my bare skin nearly causing me to whimper at the goosebumps that followed.

“Never.” I answered, gulping an anxious lump down my throat. My legs shook as they were practically wrapped around her waist. I wanted to tear off her jersey and feel her muscles underneath again. Trace every line of her biceps and the tattoos inked on top of them, her hands sliding up my spine nearly causing me to arch against them. “Vi- Vi, this can’t just be physical. I-It has to be more than that.”

“What makes you think it is?” She questioned, and I almost whined the moment her warm hand left my skin. “I’ve been trying to sneak into that pretty little head of yours for a while now.”

“My head isn’t a pretty place.” My eyebrows furrowed slightly as I peered downwards in what could’ve almost been interpreted as shame.

“The dark parts too then. I wanna see those too.” Vi whispered.

The look in her eyes was too soft to be insincere, and I caught myself searching her face for any sign of it. I came up empty every single time. And before I knew it I was swirling a strand of her pink hair around my finger just before brushing my lips to hers. Vi’s grip around my waist only seemed to tighten as she pressed me to her. I could’ve sworn I even heard a whimper from her lips as I entangled my fingers through her soft hair. It didn’t last nearly as long as our kiss last night had, though I still felt every bolt and zap of the electricity that seemed to connect through us. My lips pink and swollen as she lightly drug her teeth through my bottom one just before I was left breathless.

“I wanna see you tonight… not to do anything I just- I just wanna see you. C-Can I?” It was the first time I had seemed to catch her flustered as she stared up at me with red cheeks, and not just from the natural chill of the ice rink.

It was hard to say no to the look on her face, so with a delicate hand pressed to her cheek I nodded. “Okay.”

~

“Boo!” I heard Jinx exclaim the moment I stepped outside, suddenly feeling like the hoodie I wore wasn’t enough to beat the chill that ran through me as I only jumped the tiniest bit. “Ha! Made you jump!” She teased as she pointed a long purple nail my way. “So, did you guys kiss and make up?”

“Uhhh… I mean-“ I stammered, my own cheeks suddenly a bright red as I caught my bottom lip in between my teeth.

“Yeah, you totally did, it’s written all over your face.” She laughed once more before reaching for a bright blue bike chained up to the rack next to mine. “Relax, new girl, I’m not gonna go all guard dog on you because you’re totally into my sister.”

“How come?” I wondered, almost afraid of the answer as I shuffled up towards my own bike.

“Because no offense, you kind of don’t really look like you could hurt a fly.” She chuckled a bit as she hoisted herself up onto the seat. “Going to club rush?” She added with that same smirk-like smile she always seemed to have.

“I guess… my sister told me it was kind of, you know, mandatory unless I wanted to have a really lonely next four years.” I shrugged casually before hopping up onto my own seat and peddling off behind Jinx.

“You seem like you’d be okay with having a very lonely next four years.” Jinx remarked with another little laugh. “Not that being in the ‘esteemed Kiramman family’ could provide a lonely existence.”

“Maybe if you’re Caitlyn, no, she’s always been the one with all the social skills and the brains and brawn to boot. I mean, she’d always try and find ways to include me but whenever she went to uni it just, obviously complicated things.” I explained immediately feeling my face heat up in embarrassment as I shook my head, “Sorry, I-I don’t wanna trauma dump.”

Jinx’s bike suddenly skidded to a halt nearly causing me to jolt forward as I pressed down on my brake to not speed ahead. Her eyes seemed to peer directly into mine with a look I hadn’t really seen from her before. Was it… sympathy? Empathy? “You aren’t trauma dumping, and for future reference if you need somebody to talk to, I’m here.”

My lips slightly upturned in the corners, hands squeezing around the handlebars as I weakly nodded, “Thanks Jinx, that means a lot.”

“Of course it does.” Her typical grin stretched back across her face before she lifted herself from the seat once more to venture forward. “Now… try to keep up because I’m a fast peddler… and a meddler.”

“I could definitely see that last part.” I laughed just before quickening the pace of my own peddling to speed off alongside her. And for the most part I nearly felt like I was getting at least a small part of what was mostly a lost childhood back. Racing down the block and laughing with your friends on your bike. “So, ummm… you’ve asked a lot about me- what about you? How’d you make it to the UK?”

“Pretty epic twist of fate I guess you could say, dead parents for one.”

“O-Oh my God, I’m so-”

“Eh, it’s all good.” Jinx waved it off easily, “My brain’s blocked a good amount of it out, a ‘trauma response’ or some shit, I guess. But anyways, Vi’s always been a beast on the ice hockey rink and rich people love a good sob story so the second they found out she was an orphaned foster kid with an absolutely adorable and tiny genius little sister the sponsorships started pouring in. So- she played hockey all throughout middle school and high school, I got into robotics and then her senior year she got recruited to Oxford. Then… a few years later I come around and sweep the rug out from underneath her feet with an engineering scholarship.”

I was almost stunned into silence as we skidded to a stop at a pedestrian crosswalk. “Wow, sounds like literal inspiration porn.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” She said with a laugh almost making me sigh in relief that she wasn’t offended. Though it seemed pretty difficult to offend Jinx. “I mean, don’t get me wrong. It’s not like we didn’t go through a lot. The foster system is hardly a walk in the park but… having a super sporty older sister helps.”

“And being smart yourself too… you have to give yourself credit for that.” I suggested shyly with a casual shrug.

“Maybe… at least mildly. I’m a degenerate, but a pretty brilliant degenerate.” She grinned, causing me to let out a little laugh of my own as we continued to peddle along the path. “So, what clubs are you looking to sign up for? You should totally go for drama, the professor who runs it is a fucking lunatic.”

“I don’t know if I’m necessarily a, you know, drama club kind of girl-”

“And do I look like I’m a drama club kind of girl?” Jinx wondered with a lifted brow.

“Yeah, a bit actually.” I answered causing her to roll her eyes in a way that only proved my point. “I mean, maybe, but I’m not like… going for lead role or anything.”

“You know, isn’t it funny how the people who say that always end up being the lead in some way?” She spoke in a sing song voice as she twirled a strand of her bright hair around her finger.

“Do I even need to ask to know that ao3 is somewhere in your browsing history? Or tumblr maybe?” I teased with a snicker that faded the moment I heard the first telltale signs of Oxford’s club rush.

I’m not sure what I was expecting, I guess I should’ve expected exactly this. With over 400 clubs club rush spanned a week long and nearly took over the entirety of the main quad and then some. It felt like a weeklong party of freshers and curious and bored upperclassmen alike. I absolutely should’ve been better prepared for the boatload of people filing in and out of the massive courtyard completely taken over by white tents and set ups every club had probably spent weeks working on. For some reason though I had a feeling no amount of research or planning could’ve prepared me for it though.

“Oh shit.” I cursed, immediately skidding to a stop so fast I nearly launched myself over the handlebars this time.

“Hey, chill new girl, before we get matching concussions!” Jinx exclaimed as she pressed her foot on the ground to stop herself. Her expression softened slightly though once she took a look at my face. Probably as white as a sheet much like the knuckles that gripped my handlebars. “Hey, what’s up with you? What happened?”

“Uhhh… umm, autism?” I stammered simply as I nearly scrambled off of the bike, almost drawing blood from my bottom lip at this point. “Ummm, so- I-I can’t go in there but- don’t let me hold you from it.” My words were a shaking mess as I tried to drive the bike away from the commotion. Jinx only chased me down like the stubborn girl she was.

“Well, I’m sure as shit not leaving you out here to panic by yourself!” She voiced as she trudged off behind me to find a bench before my knees could give out from below me.

“That might actually be the best option for you in all honesty.” I answered in a shaking voice, finally giving up before I found subtle solace underneath one of the large trees to prop my bike up against.

“Okay, what would be the best option for you?” Jinx’s boots cracked underneath the fallen branches as she watched me drop the backpack from my shoulders. Every inch of me nearly felt like it was shaking as she cautiously approached me. “Because if you honestly want me to leave then I will but- don’t just say that because you’re trying to spare me from something. You aren’t a burden, Amelia.”

I tensed at first whenever I felt her cautious hand on my shoulder, it felt like every sound was getting louder and louder by the minute and I had to fight the urge to not launch myself into her arms right then and there. “C-Can we sit down?” My words shook nearly as hard as my legs did, threatening to give out any moment.

“Yeah, ‘course.” Jinx nodded quickly, already kneeling down to try and clear a spot underneath the tree even though it was already pretty clear. It was like she was trying everything she could to be helpful.

I guess you could’ve said my meltdowns were different than a lot of the ones you probably see portrayed. It was rare I ever yelled or expressed anger, I never hit anything, sometimes I would scratch at myself or pull my hair. But more often than not they were silent killers. The uncomfortable shaking, muscles giving out, the crying, oh god the crying was more exhausting than anything. If I was in public I tried my hardest not to, though most of the time that took more out of me than the actual crying did. All I knew was to retreat. Retreat, run, hide, curl up into a ball and hoped that eventually it would pass. Even though occasionally it almost felt like the aftermath was one of the worst parts. The depression that followed, the shame, the embarrassment, the apologies to everyone else even though I still didn’t know how I would’ve prevented it.

That was the worst part of all.

“What can I do to help?” Jinx asked as she placed a cautious hand on my knee that I was quickly hugging to my chest.

“C-Can you text Ellie and Caitlyn the code word, p-please? It’s pineapple. I-It shouldn’t have a passcode.” I questioned through my quivering voice, feeling like my lungs were already sealing shut in my chest much like they had last night. I could tell she was biting back one of her funny remarks as she slid my phone from my hoodie pocket, and I almost wished she would have before the tears started to fall and I became incapable of anything else.

“Inhaler- I-I need my inhaler.” I practically gasped out as I scrambled for my backpack. “P-Please tell me I brought it, f-for fuck’s sakes! H-How am I so stupid?!” I whimpered in frustration as I dug around through my backpack only to be met with no avail.

“Millie, Millie don’t.” Jinx gently slipped her hands into mine before I could start lashing out at myself. “We’ll find it, I promise we’ll find it.”

“I’m sorry.” I spoke through the sobs, apologizing prematurely before I could get any worse.

I clutched her hands for dear life it seemed. The sounds of various students passing by only got louder, the levels of shame coursing through my body causing me to squeeze myself into the same little ball I always did. Retreat, make yourself as small as possible. My breath came out in wheezes, a slow rattling beginning to increase in my chest until it felt impossible to talk. Stupid, stupid, stupid Amelia.

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Jinx spoke, sliding a firm arm around my shoulders until she was able to pull me closer. “Lean on me, I’ve got you.” A sob broke through the cacophony of wheezes as I burrowed my face into the crook of her arm. “Caitlyn and Ellie are on their way, just keep taking deep breaths for me, okay?” I forced a nod as I held onto her arm and let the tears soak into the fabric of her jacket.

It seemed like only a few moments later I heard the rushed sound of feet on the surrounding ground. My lungs only getting tighter and tighter by the second as Caitlyn nearly tripped over her own two feet rushing to the space underneath the tree. “I’m here! Mills, I’m here, I’ve got your backup.” She spoke in an out of breath voice as if she had sprinted the entire way here.

Immediately I forced my hands out to grip the inhaler and shove it in between my lips, sending a blast of the medicated air through my lungs. Afterwards I still held the device in my hands like it was the only thing providing me comfort. Caitlyn gently smoothed out my hair with a soft hand. “You can do a second one, if you need to.” She spoke as I sat there still, holding the device in between my lips even afterwards.

Sometimes I think the person who had supposedly ‘knitted me in my mother’s womb’ actually hated me. Autism wasn’t enough, so we had had to complicate things with severe hypersensitivity in my airways that could’ve been correlated to a development of asthma. Every time I thought I was moving forward and not becoming such a medical nightmare however it was usually squandered by an incident such as this one.

“Thank you for taking care of her, Jinx.” I could tell Caitlyn was biting back her pride as she promptly took me into her arms. For some reason the familiar feeling of my sister’s embrace making me want to cry a hundred times harder. She was always such a quick way to get me to calm down. I always felt bad whenever she had to drop everything and come running. Now for the second day in a row. “My place is pretty close if you want me to take you there. Get you out of here.”

I nodded against Caitlyn’s shirt before trying to pry my face from where it was hidden in her chest. “Jinx, can you text Ellie the address?” I asked, grateful for the stability that was somewhat creeping back into my voice.

“Sure- do- do you want me to come too?” She wondered almost hesitantly as she pushed herself up to her feet. Her usually playful eyes now softened as she still cautiously held onto my phone.

“If it isn’t too much trouble… s-sure.” I nodded with a tearful and weak smile.

Caitlyn hoisted me up onto my still shaking legs where I leaned most of my weight against her. I could tell part of her wanted to carry me like she had done in the past. Like she started doing the moment she hit her growth spurt claiming she wanted me to ‘see what it’s like up there.’ I almost even wanted her to myself, but not here. Not around so many people. I couldn’t make things even worse for myself.

“No, it’s not any trouble at all.” Jinx said sincerely before going to scoop up my backpack for me. “I’ll get all of our things.”

[milliesfishes]

Millie hope you are well! Had a request idea! Was thinking about the idea of sweet innocent reader still being so protective of Billy. (And he’s even more protective of her obviously!) and maybe! maybe! when they are going to bed one night she’s like “don’t worry I won’t let anything get to you they’d have to go through me first” and he’s just like 🥹 cause she couldn’t hurt a fly but it’s the sentiment

this is short but :) needed some feel-good

౨ৎ꣑ৎyou're protective over billy౨ৎ꣑ৎ fem reader x billy the kid

Billy always shifted into a different mindset whenever you were with him.

You were his sweetheart, the one thing truly worth having in this world, and therefore he was always on alert when you were in public with him. Besides wanting to protect you, he was well aware of what being seen with him could mean. There were folks out there who wouldn't stop and think about what a kind, lovely girl you were. All they saw was your connection to him.

He was subtle about it, or he tried to be. Always scanning the perimeter, making sure no threats were looming on the horizon. Anyone who decided it'd be a good idea to threaten his girl was a dead man on sight. You were blissfully unaware as far as he knew, always chattering happily with your hand slipped into the crook of his elbow.

One look into your eyes, one touch, one call of his name and he'd melt, all his attention on you. Billy swore you made him better just by being near him. So in return, he saved only for you all the softest parts of himself.

The gentlest kisses. The softest touches. You got everything the world didn't. Billy was very careful with you, terrified that he would make a wrong move and you would slip between his fingers and he'd be left to dream. But everything he did only seemed to draw you closer.

"That was my first kiss," you confessed softly after the first time he'd touched his lips to yours. Billy's heart swelled a little at your admittance, and he cupped your cheeks, kissing your forehead. It was at that moment that he knew what a treasure you were, and how safe he'd keep you. The fact that you'd trusted him with a first meant more to him than he could ever say.

He eased you into everything slowly, making sure you were comfortable, double checking with each move. Billy could see the difference between you before and after and it only made him want to protect you more.

You were different when you were taken care of. Your smile was brighter, your demeanor more relaxed. You seemed happy, and Billy was determined to keep it that way. His sweet girl deserved it. The best, because you were the best.

He began bringing you along for nearly everything except work, sitting you in front of him on his horse and riding around the surrounding area, to run errands. You would lean happily against his chest, playing with his hand on your waist, accepting the kisses he pressed to your head with a sweet smile.

There was no doubt in his mind about loving you. How could he ever do any different. Eventually he found a little cabin secluded enough to settle into, and you were a frequent visitor there. Billy had discovered that his favorite thing in the world was holding you while you slept, and he wanted to do it as much as possible.

It was the fact that you were even able to sleep around him. That your body allowed itself to be unconscious, that you felt safe enough to do so. Billy would bundle you in blankets and kiss your nose, holding you close until your eyes grew sleepy. He swore he couldn't go even a week without it.

"C'mere," Billy murmured one night, slipping into bed and reaching for you. Once you settled into his chest, he pulled a blanket over your back, kissing your forehead. "There we go. All comfy now."

"Billy?" You murmured it half into his chest.

He looked down, rubbing your back gently. "You okay, baby?"

"Mhm." You sat up a little, elbow on his chest. He smiled slightly, looking up at you, hand still stroking up your lower back.

"I'm gonna look out for you," you murmured, nuzzling into him. "People are so mean to you Billy."

"That's okay, angel," he said quietly, holding his lips to your hair. "It's okay."

"Uh uh." You shook your head, resting your chin on your arm. "They have to go through me, Billy. Nobody can be mean to you."

That brought a smile to his face, imagining his sweetheart telling someone off for badmouthing him. But he didn't laugh, only leaned down to kiss you gently. "Thank you, baby. That's very good of ya."

"You're welcome," you said proudly, snuggling close with your head on his shoulder. Billy let himself smile wider once your eyes were closed, and he hid it in your hair anyways.

He truly didn't know what he would do without you.

[thaltro]

Hey, I analyze your bad guys design on TikTok awhile ago, so I really want to analyze the new design of Atrophy mostly on the color scheme you picked and little bit things I said before but add too it. The color looks so good! The white is really nice with the color green slime/goop that Atrophy is made out of, it makes him stand out. Which I believe that what he would want because he definitely has a complex on not being enough so a white suit will make him pop out from others. Also the base symbol of white is purity,innocence, and goodness everything Atrophy isn’t but something he was as a child(if we go by the canon were passive was the kindest person in the multiverse in his story). The mask thing is definitely stuck to his face no doubt about it.how you add the moon and sun theme is so genius, it a subtle detail were it reminds the audience that Atrophy will always be connected to dream and theirs au, even if he doesn’t want to be. Because the mask is stuck on there but I don’t think the tie is so even if Atrophy say he doesn’t want to be connected to dream deep down he does he always has/will/be connected to his brother whether he recognized it or not. The way you made the green more bright on him is great, the base green symbolism is New beginnings, peace, nature, harmony, jealousy, greed which only some those really apply here the New beginnings, jealousy, greed and nature (only a little bit on the nature because it connect him to his mother who became a tree). The new beginnings (him changing looks entirely, his name and like you can say his personality him now and when he was child)(also what goes to happen to him in this story) jealousy ( boy has been jealous since day one) and greed (and this might be a lot of a stretch but believed he deserves so much better so he make sure he has the most lavish things,items,clothes,food, he collections things he didn’t even like,hoarding it because he believe he deserves to have them, he was denied so much as a child so now he has the privilege to make sure no one get more than he had as a kid) even though he secretly hate himself so deeply. (I talk about this before but I promise I adding something new!) He named himself Atrophy because he sees himself as a waste/effectiveness but he rename himself even though nightmare have more villain definition being a frightening, unpleasant because he needs control over himself he needs to feel better about himself so he rename himself because it gives him control, he can’t be hurt when people call him Atrophy because he himself calls himself Atrophy. No one can hurt you as badly as you can yourself. That how I believe why Atrophy name himself Atrophy. Anyway I think this get long enough, I will be back! I can promise you that I’m so excited for your story and everything you have planned! Also I should add psychology has a lot matching colors as Atrophy so it says a lot about these two, maybe I’ll get psych (rubbing my hands evilly to gather) anyway bye bye have a good day or night wherever you’re at!sorry about how long this is and if my writing isn’t the best.

How the hell did you interpret all that accurately? /not mad

I haven’t even posted the webcomic and I have a lot of people send me really accurate interpretations of Atrophy, this one is really good.

Yk in nightwatch I wrote for atrophy not to be shown nuanced or sympathetic light until like mid act 2. Like he does HORRIBLE shit for the majority of the comic, I have to make a chart of content warnings just for his actions. If I ever garnered a small fandom around it I expected little to no analysis of him but I post one picture of him lol and I have like character design theory essays in my ask box.

You are very right on why he named himself, I love how you worded it too.

Atrophy is a hoarder for the exact reasons you mention, Atrophy tries to embody what he never had- power, wealth, and masculinity. Having trinkets and a large home are included in that. He hoards food too, he has an entire basement that he dedicates to non perishable food that he will never eat, as he can’t eat food. He doesn’t know why but it feels safe with it there.

You also noticed how psych and atrophy have color schemes similar, which is 100 percent intentional. All of the characters i directly parallel have similar color schemes. Atrophy and psych are Enemies but also the closest and most familiar to one another. To atrophy psych is just a mirror of himself, which creates a oddly hateful, dependent, and egotistical relationship with him.

The color symbolism especially the green symbolism is intentional. Atrophy is greedy, gluttonous, and jealous and I always associated that with green. He’s also supposed to resemble a wine bottle with his color palette- as a reference to his lavish lifestyle. The moon and sun motifs are in reference to his brother. It’s the only thing atrophy genuinely feels bad about.

I don’t know if I said this already but dream thinks his brother is dead, not in a metaphorical way in a genuine way where he hasn’t seen him in hundreds of years and was told he was murdered. Atrophy is aware his brother probably believes this, but thinks it’s best for them to never meet as he’s changed so much that him dying is not too far off from what he is now. But dream is always at the back of his mind, which is why he has a lot of motifs.

I love this analysis aughsh

Thank you

[kkuzushi]

જ Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby. . .ᐟ

˚𖦹 ‘ Chapter 17 : 3.. 2.. 1.. Where’s my kiss? ִ ࣪𖤐

— PREV | MASTERLIST | NEXT

Once again, you were dragged by your very kind friends at a party. They made a good point of having fun before the break ends, but your social battery was at stake here. Still, there’s no escaping parties once Hu Tao gets a hold of the deets.

You and your friends gathered in the dormitory roof decks, along with other students that wanted to participate in the countdown. Despite the venue being a vast space for numerous students, the Set B dorm’s roof deck was also filled with the rest of the crowd.

As much as you want to hope that Scaramouche is on the other side, you know he isn’t. Especially not if your friend is Hu Tao.. who is friends with Ajax.. who is friends with your ex. It’s such a small world, isn’t it?

On cue, Scaramouche appears as you navigate through the crowd. He grinned, as if he hit the jackpot of seeing you in yet another chaotic event. The indigo haired male approached you and before you know it, your friends are nowhere to be found.

It’s like they’re all in on this and planned to get you some alone time with Scaramouche.

“He–”

“Are you happy?” You interrupted him, crossing your arms as you raised an eyebrow.

He chuckled, “With what?” Scaramouche imitated your pose, except he was almost doing it to spite you.

You rolled your eyes, not buying his act of playing dumb. “With me being stuck here with you,” you replied dryly, letting out an exasperated sigh. “Seriously, did you pay Hu Tao to pull this stunt?”

Scaramouche’s smirk deepened, and he leaned in slightly. “Why would I waste money on something I get for free? You’re here, aren’t you?”

You groaned, looking around for any sign of your friends. “I don’t know how I keep ending up in these situations with you.”

“Fate,” he replied instantly, not missing a beat.

You raised an eyebrow. “Fate? Please, it’s Hu Tao’s bad habit of meddling.”

“Or,” Scaramouche said, stepping closer, “it’s the universe making sure we don’t miss our chance to reconcile before the new year.”

You stared at him, unimpressed. How did things change so drastically between the two of you? Just the last time, you were running away from him every time you got a glimpse of his unforgettable indigo hair or punchable face.

Ten minutes have passed and Scaramouche continued tailing you. From the pantry of food when you got hungry, to the table you tried to hide at when you needed a break from the crowd. It was like you couldn’t shake him off, no matter how many sharp turns or subtle glares you threw his way.

“Are you done?” you asked, spinning around to face him as you placed your drink down on the table with a bit more force than intended. “What do you want, Scaramouche?”

He blinked at you, feigning innocence. “I’m just here for the atmosphere. Why? Am I ruining your party experience?”

“Yes,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms. “You’re like an overzealous mosquito. Aren’t you tired of bothering me?”

“Not really,” he replied smoothly, leaning against the table like he owned it. “It’s a party, YN. Socializing is encouraged. And you? You’re the most interesting person here.”

He shrugged. “It’s the truth. Or would you rather I go socialize with someone else?”

For a moment, you hesitated. The thought of him turning his attention to someone else—a random partygoer, no less—left a sour taste in your mouth. But you weren’t about to give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

“Be my guest,” you said instead, motioning toward the crowd.

Scaramouche, of course, didn’t move an inch. “Hmm, tempting. But nah, I like it here.”

You rolled your eyes, acting like you can’t feel your cheeks heat up by the gesture. Get yourself together, YN! He’s still your ex, one that can’t leave you alone.

Before you could get lost in thought, a microphone feedback on the speakers which takes everyone’s attention. “One minute left before 2024 ends! Official countdown will start at the last 10 second mark.”

Everyone cheered, but one particular voice chimes in, “DON’T FORGET YOUR NEW YEARS KISS!”

Your eye twitched at that overly energetic voice, even from a mile away, you can tell it’s Hu Tao—and that ‘new years kiss’? That was most likely directed to you and a certain guy beside you who is already smirking.

That’s not gonna happen though. Even with the efforts that Scaramouche is exerting just to swoop you back in his arms, a kiss would just be over the line.

“10.. 9..”

That was quick, you thought. Scaramouche approached you.

“8.. 7..”

You looked at him, keeping distance just in case he actually plans on kissing you.

“6.. 5..”

He laughs at your obvious attempt but he just continues walking closer.

“4.. 3..”

Your back hits the railing of the deck and you're cornered, but Scaramouche stops at a respectful distance, his hands tucked in his pocket.

“2.. 1.. Happy New Year!”

At the cue of the yells and fireworks, Scaramouche reached a hand to bring it up to his lips for a chaste peck.

“Happy new year, YN.”

— ꒰꒰﹒Happy New Year, everyone! Here is the first New Year special chapter, please enjoy as this actually got me giggling on my chair.

— ꒰꒰﹒TAGLIST : @raineyun @hayamie @sketcheeee @wraithisd3adinside @heusalettle @liuaneee @yevurin @mywillt0live @kaikaidenkai @alatusorrow @shrimplyasleep @minstarrs @reivelmin @scaraenthusiast1 @girlbesofr2814 @yawn-zi

— ꒰꒰﹒OPEN. [ 16/50 ]

© kkuzushi | Please do not translate, repost, or plagiarize my work. This AU is posted in Tumblr only unless stated otherwise by yours truly.