#i'm mentally ill if you couldn't tell

[derangedanomaly]

... It's true..

(The pic is from Google idk the credits-

AND HANDS ARE SO COOL)

Augh.... don't do this to me right now Kris... I can feel my sins crawling on my back watching this picture......

[nopaintjustpain]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Original Statement Giver(s) (The Magnus Archives), Original Background Characters, Oliver Banks, Harriet Fairchild, Simon Fairchild, Annabelle Cane Additional Tags: Past Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Sorry Martin but I just know in my heart that Jon would never chose Elias over you, unless you were gone, Grief/Mourning, Suicide Attempt, Failed Watcher's Crown (The Magnus Archives), Unplanned Pregnancy, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fake Marriage, Discussion of Abortion, Monster Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Implied/Referenced Child Death, Morning Sickness, Slow Burn, POV Elias Bouchard | Jonah Magnus, POV Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist, Trans Mpreg | Trans Male Pregnancy, Soft Elias Bouchard, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Content, If you’re surprised to read bad things happening in a tma fic, Maybe you shouldn’t be reading tma fic, No beta we kayak like Tim, Character Study, Mental Health Issues, Traumatic Birth Experence, author is american, Sorry in advance to the brits, Do Not Archive, art included, Digital Art, minor Transphobia, Dreams and Nightmares, Oral Sex, Cunnilingus, Fingerfucking, Come as Lube, Surgery, Medical Trauma, Graphic Depictions of Illness, Fatherhood Feels, Hospitals, Canon-Typical The Web Content (The Magnus Archives) Summary:

Elias blames himself for what happens next.

[Title from forwards beckon rebound by Adrianne Lenker]

[headphonemouse]

vent post sorry so sorry i'm having a Bad Time

psyched myself up to buy a new bed but when i announced my plans for the weekend my sibling's like 'are you sure you wanna buy a new bed?' like damn killed the hype immediately. i don't wanna buy a bed i don't wanna go anywhere i'll just keep using the bed that we all cycled through growing up that hasn't been replaced in a decade+ with no bedframe and only one sheet that fits.

"are you sure you want-" I need a new bed. This isn't a matter of wanting. i don't want to think about where to get the best deals or which store has a delivery service or the logistics of hauling that thing into my room or where to get rid of the old one i'm sick of sleeping on a mattress on the floor. don't make this ordeal more complicated than it has to be.

[therewillbenoromance]

me and what is probably definitely depression standing at the altar. or. whatever the thing is called idk how marriage works

[mychemical-gremlin]

the proxy i'm using on my school computer refuses to load Instagram AT ALL

i'm about to cry guys. if my parents don't go to bed and I can't take the functional computer....

[chqnified]

When your doctor says he'll prescribe ypu stronger painkillers for your chronic joint pain, but he lies and prescribed you antidepressants. He claims there's no side effects but when you read the instructions there's a WHOLE LIST of side effects

[itheunknown]

odi et amo - (03) i, ghostly

negelected! meta! reader x platonic! batfam

masterlist / prev / next

(TW) : emotional neglect, self-destructive behaviour, self-harm, suicide, depression, unhealthy coping mechanisms, underage smoking, underage drinking, alcohol abuse, depression, bpd, depictions of mental illness, violence, trauma, ...

you can't tell what's louder, the thumping in your chest or the ringing in your ears.

your breath comes out shaky, the smoke curling out your nose and mouth, caressing your face.

it's hard to grasp reality. you don't know how you ended up here, nothing feels certain.

nothing feels real.

the sting on your now dried tear streaked cheek is the only feeling you feel, a reminder.

you never expected anything from that family, a family that isn't yours. but, perhaps, it was wishful thinking that if you made yourself forgettable enough, they would leave you alone. it didn't matter anymore, the fact that they were never there - you've done this before, you've been alone before. the heart could only grow brutal from feeding on fantasies.

and it's haunting.

did it hurt? fuck yes. but you're used to it.

you've been hurt your whole life.

you are nothing more than a body that hurts.

fantasies of loving arms, fantasies of warmth and peace.

fantasies of being seen. fantasies of being wanted.

you're staring down at the deep drop, somehow finding yourself back at the same abandoned building years ago. the sharp sting of the wind barely felt through the thick of the hoodie engulfing your form, the hood protecting your identity. the pack of the nearly empty cigarettes you had burned through along with your lighter layed scattered besides you, mixing with the discarded butts.

but you're never seen.

and you're never wanted.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

you didn't even flinch, no signs of making a move to acknowledge his presence, the burning cigarette still in hand as it nears your lips once more. a sigh and footsteps were heard before he was seated next to you, plucking the half-smoked cigarette out of your trembling hands and flicking it out the building.

"didn't take you for the rebellious type."

a sense of déjà vu, a voice, a similar scenario and the same setting - recognition washes over you - the voice of the vigilante that stopped you from jumping. and now, now you just can't seem to find the same sense of finality and courage to do it again.

"that's littering", you mutter, and he let out a surprised laugh despite your deadpan tone and the depressing atmosphere.

you're grateful that the hood makes you unidentifiable, thanks to the shadow it casts upon your face, further assisted by the blanket of the night: you don’t want to be seen right now, you just need to be heard.

he's thankful that, at the very least, you weren't making a move to jump off this time, the memory of it still unnerves him everytime he revisits it. although admittedly, smoking is just another way to achieve what you had come here to do before.

he looks at you, a moment of prolonged silence as his laughter dies out. you didn't even stir, defeated.

your voice was more mature, your stature taller but despite your unseen features, he can still sense how hollow you were - just like the first time he saw you.

despite everything, it was still you.

"… do you want to talk about it? ", he hesitates.

a beat passes. he desperately wants to help you, but also wishes not to overstep.

you asked your own question, one that had lingered at the back of your mind ever since that day:

"why did you stop me?"

he's surprised.

you're waiting.

your head tilted slightly, the moon light barely illuminated the edges of your face.

"because your life has value. i couldn't watch you, just, throw it away like it meant nothing.”

"it does mean nothing, i have nothing to live for", you reply, your tone grim and finalized.

his heart aches, the burden heavy in your voice - you sounded tired. broken.

his hand finds its way on your shoulder and pats awkwardly. "i'm sure that's not true. you may think that now, but you don't have to carry this weight alone."

"but i am alone."

“that’s not true, i’m sure there are people who care about you!”

he nudges your arm lightly, a light and reassuring smile on his face. you stare at him, at how the moon perfectly encapsulates his presence, at the tender warmth and genuine care radiating from him - the personification of life. the opposite of you, who's haunted by the idea of death.

you, who’d always remain in the shadows, remained in the desolated and dark corners of everyone’s mind, ignored, forgotten. dead to them.

“you don’t even know me,” you breathe out, “nobody knows me.”

the weight of your words weigh heavy on his soul. “that may be true, but that doesn’t mean i can’t care,” he offers. “you know, kid, you actually remind me of one of my siblings. around the same age, actually.”

your curiosity peaked as you silently urged for him to continue.

“but they came around eventually, i think. the hurt doesn’t go away, but you have to reach out for help.”

“…have you talked to your family about it?”

you scoff and stood up, making your way out of the building. he hurriedly follows you, frustration tainting his carefully crafted positivity. “you can’t just push people away like this. why won’t you let anyone in?”

you’re annoyed, it’s not like you did so deliberately, had anyone ever tried to get to know you? let alone care about you? you had abandoned that wishful thinking long ago, especially after today’s events.

“what’s the use,” you snarled. “nothing ever changes.”

“nothing can change if you don’t try!”

“sure, whatever.”

you paced hurriedly to where you left your bicycle, his presence hot on your trail.

“don’t dismiss me. your life matters, damn it.” he grabs your wrist.

you exhale sharply, yanking your arm out of his grasp. he falters back a bit, sensing that he crossed a line, trying to tone down how aggressive he was coming onto you.

“just- just remember that people care about you.”

“sure, like you do?”

“yes!”

you still for a bit, looking at him skeptically. you both awkwardly stood there, the situation almost comical in a sense, especially since his eyes can't remain trained on any visible feature of your face.

“hmm, thanks. i guess.” you trailed, hopping on your bicycle.

he watched you ride off into the night, unable to shake the feeling of helplessness. he wanted to help, but also didn’t want to make you uncomfortable and scare you off. he stood there contemplating before he dashed off to continue the rest of his patrol.

“be safe, alright?” he watches you, unsure if he should follow you to assure your safety.

“i will.”

the distance between you both grows larger, moving in opposite directions, but your thoughts lingered on each other's words.

you retreat to the bathroom of the manor, the storm in your mind temporarily tamed. the cold water trickling down your arms, the soapy smell in the air to wash away the smoke clinging on your skin. the hoodie you wore hanging in the shower after you'd hand wash it, not wanting to expose yourself in case alfred gets a whiff of it.

despite continuing his patrol, he couldn't shake off the feeling of responsibility: for you - the mystery person tonight, and then, his mentioned sibling. he recalls how they were when they first entered the manor, and how they quietly adapted to the new lifestyle, growing up with the habit of concealing their emotions behind the facade of indifference, thinking that he didn’t notice. but he did, he was just never confronted with the drastic measure it would lead to if everyone in that manor just let that feeling of hopelessness fester within them. in a way, he's thankful to you: you gave him a wake-up call.

that sense of urgency nagging him to check on his family as he made a mental note to visit them after his patrol, your words lingering at the back of his head.

despite what had happened, you can't help but want his approval - the only person who actually gave you the time of day in this manor.

your expression focused, your eyebrows knitted, lips sucked in as you scrubbed your arms raw. you feel more grounded. your eyes dart to the reflection in the mirror, reminding yourself to keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

keep it together.

subliminally. consciously. repeatedly

keep. it. together.

you release the death grip and push yourself off the sink, and sigh harshly.

keeping it together, you made way to the kitchen, planning to get some tea.

and then, you see him.

your breath lodged in your throat, you stand frozen watching him wait for rbe coffee while seemingly deep in thought, troubled. anxious.

richard grayson.

in the same vigilante suit, mask off.

you can't believe it. richard grayson, the oldest sibling, the vigilante, was the person who pulled you off the ledge, was the person who actually listened to you.

you can't describe this feeling in your chest, gripping your heart like a vice.

he was here all along.

you recall the mention of the sibling, was it you? did he actually… notice your struggles? maybe he had good intentions all along, trying not to overstep, hoping you'd come to him?

you don't know why you're trying to make excuses for him, but the mere fact that he saw you was enough.

you. hoodie off.

you finally let out a noise, snapping him out of his trance and his eyes snapped to you.

he looked a little caught off guard, surprised he didn't sense your presence.

“oh. hey.”

he rubs the back of his head. maybe he felt embarrassed that this was how you found out? but it's alright, because now he’ll finally notice you-

“i’m a little worried about him. i mean, since the cat's out of the bag, you should know he does a lot of work to contribute to us keeping the city safe - you wouldn't understand.”

“have you seen tim?”

“what?”

he sighs and grabs the finished coffee, settled on a tray with a dish holding an assortment of cookies.

he cuts himself off, deeming it not important enough to explain, and completely overlooks the horrified expression that now settles on your features.

dick had left the kitchen in search for tim, deciding to check out his room first. you absent-mindedly trailed behind him like a kicked dog, not saying a heap.

your vision starts to swim, your neck feels hot - unsure if it was embarrassment or rage.

embarrassed at the fact that you were deluded enough into thinking anyone in this house would ever give a shit about you, that anyone would care about what you're going through.

angry at the fact that you are never the person who gets asked for, never the sibling who's struggles are acknowledged.

you didn't register him knocking on tim's door.

you didn't register how dick affectionately asked a tired tim to spend some time together.

you didn't register them conversing while walking inside.

you didn't register tim giving you an odd look and closing the door to give them more privacy.

now, you sit in your room once more, alone, back against your bed, the torn shirt bundled in your hands. the grip on the fabric tightens, your knuckles whitens, and your shoulder starts shaking.

tears made its way down your face as you silently sobbed once more, occasionally chuckling at how pathetic your situation was.

you give up.

you can't keep it together anymore.

expectations only lead to disappointment.

so what if you had no family, no friends. your grades would never betray you, you'll continue your plan: study hard, get into a good university and then get the fuck away from here, from everyone.

despite your lethargy, you somehow made it through another school day. time started to bleed into each other, you resorted to going on auto-pilot.

so it didn't matter when onlookers would sneakily glance at you and the hand print on your cheek, resting under your red rimmed eyes and heavy eyebags that no one thought could get worse.

you had to keep moving. at the very least, you still had something that defined your worth - your intelligence.

no one will miss you.

no one would even notice.

they offer you a sympathetic smile, their face painted with worry. that alone almost sent you into another crying session. you find yourself in their embrace, soothing you while you try to hold it together, shielding you from the world.

“hey that's a bit much. what are we, chopped liver?”

the deafening ring of the bell signalling the end of school somehow fell deaf on your ears, but the sound of your friend somehow pierced through the barrier of your haze, jolting you back to reality. your eyes flickered to them, trying your hardest to offer a weak smile, but somehow failing.

yes, you're not entirely alone.

you still have your friends.

they would miss you.

they would notice.

so it didn't matter when the students gave you an odd look, putting some distance while you stood to the side engulfed in the arms of your friends. it didn't matter.

you had them.

you had someone.

you really needed the company, but despite being too ashamed to communicate it, they knew. so now, even if you arrived home later than usual, the sky turned dark and cold, you felt warm. that's the safety and comfort that no one else has been able to provide you, and you're so grateful that you at least had them - your precious friends, your reason to stay.

the path back to manor somehow the sky looked nicer, so did the grass, and the lush bushes of wildflowers - noticing the little things that you usually disregard, walking your bicycle while chatting away with your friends.

they never pried on why you were upset. they knew you, they knew. they knew because you knew. and that was enough, a wordless understanding, unconditional. they had insisted to keep you company, maybe spend some time together in your room.

so when you opened the door to the manor, still chattering and giggling with your friend, alfred had heard from the other room.

he felt somewhat relieved, the guilt over his actions had started to consume him, and so he had waited impatiently for your arrival that had been later than usual; but before he could fuss over you, the sound of your laughter had effectively calmed him down knowing you were safe and happy. he'd never heard you this happy before, and it hurts knowing that you had never been able to find joy while surrounded by the walls of this house.

he straightened his shirt, cleared his throat, and put on a kind smile while making his way out of the room to greet you in the doorway, your smile that could light up a stormy day, contrasting the gloomy room.

“oh, hey alfred! i know this wasn't informed but my friends were wondering if they could stay for dinner?” you turn to him, “we won't be much trouble, i promise!”

your friends shrunk back a bit, seemingly nervous of the tall and poised butler, feeling out of place.

you grabbed their hands and gave a reassuring squeeze, telling them it's alright.

you beam at him, waiting expectantly for alfred to welcome your friends.

while alfred could only stare in horror at the empty space next to you.

howdy skibbidis, i am not feeling very sigma :pained_heh:

lowk work has been ass and so has everything else but hey we move. i appreciate every single one of your comments and reblogs yall are so funny lol, but fr the support has been like saving my ass from burning out. grassy ass my skibbidi sigmas.

(TAGLIST) closed due to limit :sadge:

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[dcxdpdabbles]

For Angel Brat, could we have some more focus on Bruce and Danny? Maybe Dick and Danny as well?

Bruce looks over to where Danny and Dick are each filling up their frozen yogurt cups. Dick's, is a vanilla and chocolate mix topped with various candies.

It seemed he had taken the open bar toppings as a personal challenge to drop a scoop of everything laid out into his container. Honestly, Bruce sometimes wondered if all of Dick's spontaneous flips were just a means to stay in shape, so he could keep eating the way he did.

Danny, on the other hand, had chocolate topped with only peanuts. His blue eyes- the only difference between him and Damian physically wise- kept wandering over longingly to offered sweeties but he was on a strict diet for his health.

Bruce can't believe that for all they have been searching for ways to keep Danny; they had neglected developing research for his illnesses. It felt a bitter taste in his mouth that they still could not find a cure for his boy.

Bruce Wayne was able to travel through time but make sure his son could run long periods without his heart or his lungs breaking down? Turns out he truly is just a mortal, and that was one of the worst things to realize when his son confidently bragged about being able to do two entire laps of their yard without nearly passing out.

He mentally did some calculations before stepping closer and touching Danny's shoulder. "I think you can have some chocolate chips."

His boy's face brightened in joy before he rushed to the counter, scooping the chocolate goods into his yogurt. It's another thing he noticed about Danny.

Unlike Damian, his youngest didn't bother hiding his emotions. He wore them like a badge of honor, letting them bleed across his face as quickly as he allowed sunlight to rest on them.

Bruce isn't sure if this is due to their different personalities- like the night and day of those two- or if it was because Danny had gotten out of the League when he did. Damian had broken him out to prevent him from being killed for his execution, but Bruce could not figure out where Danny had grown up.

His son's phrases and slight accent indicated midwestern. Bruce had no idea where, and every time he tried searching for him, the only thing that popped up was the already small rumors. Was this an effect of the timeline resetting? But why were there some posts and data on him left behind if it was?

It gave Bruce a headache; even Wally had no idea what was causing it. Wally, having been trapped in the Speed Force for so long, was the expert on it. Bruce shuddered to think of the alternatives if he couldn't figure out what was happening.

Bart had assured everyone that Danny was officially an anchor to their timeline, but if Wally's grim warnings that time was slowly erasing him- thus the lack of proof of childhood- then nothing they could do would save their son.

The worst part was not knowing if he would even be able to properly mourn him. Would Daniel Wayne vanish one day if no one remembered he was supposed to be there?

"Dick, I'm taking a pottery class. I'm going to make you something for your desk." Danny says, snapping Bruce out of his dark thoughts. Then he realizes he was moving on auto-polite, and the cashier was handing back his change.

He takes it with an empty smile turning to his children as Dick beams down at the youngest. "I can't wait to see it, Danny! I bet it will be the best one in class."

"I'll be the only one in the class," Danny tells him sheepishly, but a hint of sadness leaks into his voice. "I'm too sick to go to the center. Dad hired me a private teacher to come to the manor instead."

Bruce's heart squeezes painfully, and one quick glance at Dick's face lets him know his son feels the same way. Of course, nothing sows on his eldest face, but Bruce has known Dick for so long he can tell by the slight tightening around his eyes and the way the pain is tucked in his eyes.

Before he can think better of it, Bruce hears himself say, "I've always been interested in pottery. I'll see if the instructor wouldn't mind a second student."

"Really?" Danny's eyes are practically shining , which prompts Bruce to smile and shrug a shoulder.

"Yes, in fact I'm sure all of your siblings would love to take a class or two. Why don't you send a message in the group chat to see if they like to sign up?" He makes a motion that has Dick pulling out his phone to send in a different group titled "Keep our Angel."

His phone dings just a few seconds before Danny's, which the more petite boy takes as his own message coming through. Bruce never the less checks it anyway, swiping over to Dick's to read what he wrote

Dick: You are all taking a pottery class this Saturday. No excuse. Danny wants us there. I will hurt you if you miss.

His lack of emojis is bone-chilling. Bruce highly doubts any of his children will miss the event. And just as he predicted, Danny's smile grows wider when more dings can be heard coming from his phone.

"Everyone can make it!" He cheers, scrolling through the messages, looking like the world had just been promised to him. "This is going to be so much fun! Do you think the teacher won't mind?"

"I'm sure she will be happy for the raise." And if she wasn't, Bruce would quickly find someone who would. Money, to him, was never an issue.

Danny grins so brightly that Bruce wonders if he should invest in some sunglasses, but his heart does soar. Even if Dick has to reach out to adjust Danny's heart pump wires after they get stuck on the chair.

Effortlessly, Dick moves the attention away from the machine with a simple question. "Besides my gift, what else are you hoping to make Danny?"

"I'm going to make a vase for Bernard. Damian will help me buy him flowers and ask him out." Danny's words are accompanied by a brilliant blush, but he seems almost proud of his newfound courage to ask a boy three years his senior.

Did Bruce just get shot? He feels like he's been shot.

Dick's little spoon crumbles in his hold as his very famous and dangerous rage bleeds into his blue eyes. "Wow. That's so brave of you. By the way, where does Bernard live again?"

Bruce will have to postpone his deep dive into finding out where Danny was raised because if he takes his attention off of Dick for even a second, his eldest will kill that boy.

[dunmeshistash]

How do you feel about Milsiril? Like what do you think of her interactions between the canaries, her goals, her intentions and morality? I keep seeing people with mixed feelings about her, some saying she's just toxic or morally grey or doing bad but with good intentions or that she's just a mentally ill and literally so much more, also with the comic about Otta calling Milsiril love for her children/Kabru as just love for a pet, I always saw people take it at face value and say yes, Milsiril did love them more as pets instead of children, did she take up raising/adopting non-elf children because she felt like none of them could ridicule her like the elves did because they didn't know what an elf was supposed to be like (and also because they were children) or did she inherently view them as less? I mean the canaries and I'm pretty sure almost all of the cast in dungeon meshi have some sort perspective on different races especially because how they were taught about them, i just think it was interesting to finally see someone interpret it as Otta just misinterpreting Milsiril, I'm just really interested in her, i think shes neat, sorry for the rant!

Ooh, well to preface this, I hadn't really realized Milsiril was such a controversial character before my last post, I kinda live under a rock. She's really not a character I had given much thought besides what I wrote there before it, but I can do my best to express what I have thought since, with sources for it. I'm not sure what order to go thru so I'll just go by manga appearances and then extras, this will probably be quite a long post

This is the first time she shows up in the manga (ch55) Kabru is wondering about what future they might have if the elves take them into custody because of the ancient magic, he thinks about Milsiril as a get out of jail card, and mentions "There's a chance they would make us become permanent resident of the elven lands." with the image of Milsiril holding him. I don't think that means she would be the one to not let them leave, since this would probably be an legal issue, and the fact Milsiril lives away from other Elves. It does set up that Milsiril is quite overprotective tho, with Kabru's reaction to her teary hug. (rest is under a cut)

The next time she shows up is in ch61 right after Kabru falls down the dungeon along with Mithrun, he faints and has this flashback

She's being her overbearing self treating Kabru's small injury as if its something you need to be in bed for, hand feeding him like he's a toddler, and when he insists he wants to learn how to fight and be strong like her, she hugs him revealing to us for the first time her arm scars, she's cleary in distress too, so you wonder "what has happened to her?"

It continues in the next pages, as she tells him to stay there, where it's safe and there's cake, and describes the bad things he might encounter. Until he tells her he will go with or without her help

Honestly this is a Kabru we don't see often, this is the version of him that is usually in thought bubbles, he's blowing out in frustation over being smothered and demanding straight up what he wants, instead of trying to manipulate Milsiril, very blunt for him. Milsiril seems to flip a switch into battle mode, when she decides to train him for real.

I really thought this was funny, the visual of these cuddly toys and this Mom that was being so soft just a second ago completely flipping into something menacing is very amusing to me. She says "I'll give you an exhaustive, thorough training in how to use a sword... until you finally decide that you're ready to give up." although it sounds cruel, it seems she really trained him as best she could to make sure he would survive the dungeon. If he couldn't take the training with her there was no way he would be able to take on the dungeon, but he could, so much so that he managed to make her let him go. I can see this being seen as her trying to prevent him from going but to me it seems more like some tough love from a traumatized war veteran in this case.

The last thoughts he has is admitting his Mom was right, "Not only were there plenty of traps, monsters, and malice... but there were times when I felt so hungry and cold that I couldn't stand it."

And he concludes with "I never once thought that I wanted to go back there. That room where I could eat all the cake that I wanted..." While I can understand the interpretation that he means he would rather go thru all this than go back, perhaps cause he hated it there, I think it's rather a statement to how committed he is to defeating the dungeon, the visuals show him in rubble vs him in a soft big bed, the rough reality he fought to be able to face and the comfyness of what his life could be. Plus is mirroring exactly what Milsiril said to him. Admitting she was right about the bad things but that he won't give up for the safe easy life he had.

After that visuals of Milsiril are used while Kabru tries to sus out Mithrun but she shows up again in Mithrun's backstory.

Here she's straight up called Gloomy, which wasn't really the version of her we saw so far, gotta remember this is also how Mithrun saw her and that she was called gloomy as a way of bullying. Kabru mostly cuts off her part in the story until the end, when she's the one to find Mithrun after he was eaten by the demon

She doesn't really care much for Mithrun as we see in some extras, and she was ready to mercy kill him, but she is also the one to spare his life. This could be seen as her thinking he can still be of use, and it's how it sounds with how Kabru tells the story, but I do think this was also a merciful act, Mithrun was in rehabilitation for 20 years after being saved, by the time he was actually useful for anything Milsiril had already left the canaries and adopted Kabru.

Now for extras... About Mithrun/The Canaries, Milsiril was cleary someone that hated the people around her. This is her extra in the Adventurer's Bible

Milsiril seems to be the type that hates "popular kids" so to say, her description says she was bullied by other elves for being so introverted so I believe she holds a grudge against people like Mithrun that seem to have succeeded where she failed. But realizing he was a twisted person like her seemed to make her feel more sympathetic towards him, that's why I think she really did act with mercy when she saves Mithrun, he's now someone she sees as similar to her, she sees he also suffered like her

Her decription also mentions she left the canaries specifically because she was disgusted with how the Utaya situation was dealt with. Yet it seems like she came back to help Mithrun with his rehabilitation once she quits.

There's an interpretation to be made that she did this only to get "revenge" on the demon since she just saw the destruction of Utaya, and that she's using him. On the other hand maybe she wants to help him find a motivation to live, she's no longer a canary and she has time to actually help him now. I don't know which one is the truth but it's not obviously something self-serving if you ask me. Especially in the context that right before this scene Milsiril admits she wishes they could have talked before.

My interpretation of her relationship with the canaries and other elves is that she's someone depressed that was mistreat for her 'quirky' side, the dolls are clearly one of the ways she used to cope with anxiety/depression but it only caused her to be bullied by her own kin, she's the daughter of an important family and it's shown in other extras, including one about Mithrun, that nobles often send out the kids they don't want around to become canaries. It's an easy way to get rid of someone undesirable and I think it was the case for Milsiril. (Pattadol even assumes her parents love her less than her sisters for sending her to join the canaries).

No wonder than that now that she's finally free from the canaries she chose to seek her own happiness away from the society she felt she could never fit into, she clearly likes to take care of children too, I think it's mean to assume she only likes them because she feels superior to them when there's no indication that this is the case.

And I don't think it's a coincidence she's so overprotective of Kabru after Utaya, it's literally the tragedy that was the breaking point for her, and he's a surviving small child from that tragedy, Milsiril cares about Kabru and wanted him to have a comfortable safe life after everything he went thru...

This ended up getting way too long so I'll make second part tomorrow about the rest of the extras and Kabru, and some other things I've seen said about Milsiril, but to answer the questions...

I don't think she treats her children as pets, Otta is just salty she was called out for dating like Leo Dicaprio.

Every single dungeon meshi character can be called morally grey because they all have flaws that in our world can be considered unforgivable, but they don't live in our world. To me Milsiril is doing her best in the context she lives in.

Who even is neurotypical in dungeon meshi, Milsiril is yet another flavour of a neurodivergent traumatized character among so many.

I believe she thought of the other canaries, especially Mithrun, as the same type of people that were cruel to her, probably because some of them really were, but that she generalized it to the point she thinks of all of them as bad by default. You can only get hurt so many times before you assume everyone will hurt you.

Part 2

[finalgirlmoment]

Noteworthy details about the first two PJOTV episodes (spoilers)

First of all, every single of them ATE DOWN. just wanted to throw that out there, i'm so so impressed with the cast, everyone was perfect and gorgeous and i'm completely sat for any and all future installments. A fine piece of media. Let's begin.

Percy's confusion and bewilderment finding out that he's a demigod. "You fell in love with God.... like, Jesus????" LMFAO but seriously his frustration in this moment, thinking there's something actually wrong with his brain, feeling lost and confused and hurt and BROKEN. the struggle in that moment is so relatable to people discovering they have some sort of mental illness or neurodivergence, especially when they weren't believed/listened to etc and i think walker played this part beautifully

GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TOGETHER. GROVER AND PERCY PLAYING MYTHOMAGIC TO TRAIN PERCY. I AM LITERALLY SCREAMING OFF ROOFTOPS THE IMPLICATIONS THAT THIS HAS???? ARE YOU ACTUALLY JOKING??????? IMAGINE SEASON 3 PERCY FINDS NICO AND THEY HAVE THIS IN COMMON???????????!?!?!?!?!? FEELING SEVERELY FRANTIC AND MASSIVELY UNWELL ABOUT THIS

luke's empathy towards Percy throughout-- his apologies for what happened to his mother at the bottom of Half Blood Hill, him telling P that he relates to the nightmares, the restlessness, the ADHD..... so fucking sick and fucking twisted, I will be sobbing at the ending, gorgeous job on both ends on making this relationship feel very warm and authentic and the trust starting to build. this will H U R T.

CLARISSE. she's so gorgeous and vindictive. Her beauty took me off guard initially, but she's such a spiteful little badass that I completely fell in love with her. I CANNOT WAIT to see more of her characterization, especially into season two. perfection.

Percy burning the blue jelly beans- the thing he'd miss most- out in the middle of the woods at night in a damn can, just to pray to his MOTHER. *sobbing intensifies* i couldn't ask for a more sweet, heartfelt, honest moment. the perfect addition. 10s across the board

Percy's ANGER. OH BOY this was one of my most favorite parts. I feel like we see Percy as a very happy-go-lucky kid altogether but I loved, LOVED to see his frustration and agitation from the very beginning. Everything is so confusing and foreign and all he knows is that 1. he's been betrayed or left behind by everyone he knows and 2. he's been ignored his whole life by his godly parent. His mission is to MAKE HIS DAD SEE PERCY, at ANY COST. Before he even knows who his dad is. He is entitled to feel ALL of this anger and hurt and resentment!!!!!!!

Annabeth calling Percy "sunshine". TOTAL CULTURAL RESET. I gasped. The dawn of a new age of Percabeth. I will be screaming into my pillow about this for the foreseeable future.

The entire characterization of Percy throughout the capture the flag scene. His contrast of being just a kid- flossing (lol), peeing the woods, petting a gecko, just vibing and hanging out VS. being thrown suddenly into attack from his peers that don't care about the rules, surprising himself and everyone around him with his finesse in battle, quick instincts, swordsmanship..... i'm weak fr. I can't wait to see him grow, train, become stronger and more confident.

Overall, I'm entirely floored and beyond happy. I can't wait to see more. 10/10

[girlgenius1111]

echoes of her

fluff x angst. implied sexual content? 18+ anyway. warnings: mention of unhealthy past relationship.

alexia and r are out, r sees alexia with another girl, who happens to be r's ex. r acts up, until alexia drags her home, prepared to punish her for being a brat. before she does, r breaks down, tells alexia what was really going on.

You did a double take when you noticed just who your girlfriend was speaking to at the bar. Your blood ran cold at the sight of her; your ex girlfriend. How, why, was she here?

She was, truly, an awful person. Incomparably so. Your time with her had been awful for you, completely destroying your mental health. Despite this, Alexia hardly knew anything about the other woman. She knew there was someone before her, when you were still living in London, and that it hadn't ended well. You'd kept that ugly part of you locked away from your girlfriend. Partly because you didn't feel like bothering her with something that was so very done, but also because you didn't want her to see how shattered that girl had left you.

Alexia had walked away to get another drink for you a few minutes ago. It was taking longer than you expected, so you turned away from the conversation you were having with Mapi, and looked around for the blonde head of hair you were so familiar with. There she was, stood at the bar, making conversation with another blonde you were rather familiar with. What this woman was doing in Spain was beyond you; for a moment, you wondered if you were being crazy; that couldn't be her.

Then she turned, catching your eye and sending you a smirk, and you knew this was no accident. Her, in this club, talking to your girlfriend. You felt like you were being torn in half; you felt like sprinting towards the nearest exit, away from the girl standing at the bar. At the same time, you wanted to run towards her, to pull Alexia away, to protect her. You were paralyzed, a million different thoughts running through your head as you caught Alexia's eye. Her smile fell, eyes squinting slightly as she caught the very panicked look on your face.

"Chica!" Mapi called, waving a hand in front of your face. This broke you out of your stare, and you jumped a little, turning towards your friend. Her and Patri were looking at you, concerned, having witnessed you go from relaxed to completely tense in just 10 seconds.

"Yeah?" You asked, clearing your throat, glancing back at where your girlfriend had been standing. She was on her way back to you, and you dug your nails into your leg. Alexia would come here, and everything would be fine.

"Are you okay?" Patri asked, resting a hand on your shoulder. You repressed a shudder at the contact. Everything was setting you off, everything suddenly too loud, too bright, too close.

"Yeah, yeah. Just got dizzy for second. I'm fine." You promised, putting on a smile that you hoped was convincing. Before either girl could question you further, an arm was wrapping around your abdomen, pulling you back into your girlfriend's body. You curled into her and she tightened her arms around you, rubbing her thumb up and down your stomach lightly.

"Bién?" Alexia softly whispered in your ear. "Are you feeling ill?" You weren't sure how Alexia could tell you felt nauseous, seeing as though the lights in the club were multicolored and dim. You turned to look at up at her, and caught your ex girlfriend, only a few feet away, clearly intending to come speak to you.

Without thinking, you wrapped your arms around Alexia's neck, pulling her down into a kiss that could only be described as one too filthy to be had in public. Alexia allowed it for a minute, pulling back when Mapi and Patri started making loud retching noises from next to her. She gave you a look, one that told you to behave, before turning to your friends and rolling her eyes at them.

"No seas dramática. As if I have not seen you both make out with girls in clubs until my eyes were burning."

Before they could respond, you raised a hand to Alexia's cheek, turning her head to look back at you. Your ex had stopped moving closer, but she was still watching, a frown set on her face. You needed her to stay away, stay far away. Alexia had been looking forward to this night out, though, and the only way she'd agree to leave early was if you gave her a convincing reason to. Of course, you could have just told her what was going on, but that didn't really feel like an option to you.

"Dance with me?" You asked Ale, a plan beginning to form in your head. Get Alexia turned on, get her to take you home. Get your ex to leave you alone, all at once.

Alexia got the familiar dreamy expression on her face that she got when you asked her for anything, and she nodded.

"Sí, if you want."

You took her hand, puling her towards the dance floor. Behind you, out of your line of sight, Mapi and Patri exchanged amused looks; never before had they seen their stubborn captain so easily agree to dance. She would do anything for you, though, as was evident.

Your and Alexia's dancing remained innocent for less than a minute, before you were turning your back to her, pressing your ass back into her, and grabbing her hands in yours. You trailed them all over your body, grinding backwards to the bass of the song. You didn't need to hear Alexia's hitch of breath to know how she was feeling about this.

You were pushing her, you knew. Alexia was possessive; she didn't like anyone to see you the way she did. This little performance you were putting on was drawing some attention; it was a gay bar, after all, and your tight outfit hugged you perfectly, your body swaying gracefully against Alexia's. She clenched her jaw tight, sure you were going for a reaction, and not quite wanting to give you one.

Her resolve broke, though, when she caught the blonde she was talking to earlier at the bar staring at you. It seemed to Alexia that you were looking right back at her.

"Vamos, mi zorrita." Alexia whispered lowly right into your ear, wrenching her hands out of yours, instead placing a possessive hand on your back, and leading you towards the exit. As she passed the woman who had been looking at you, she made eye contact, glaring hard. You were hers. She thought she felt you tense up as you passed by her, reaching back to lace your fingers with hers, but she didn't linger too long on it, already planning what she was going to do with you when you arrived home.

You passed by where your friends were gathered, ignoring their knowing smirks as Alexia practically dragged you out of the club. So close, you were so close to being safe, to Alexia being safe, far away from her.

-----

Alexia gave you the silent treatment in the car, knowing how crazy it drove you. You needed contact with her, though, anxiety still swirling inside of you. You couldn't ask for her hand right now, without explaining why yours was inexplicably shaking. Not now, when Alexia was preparing, deservedly, to punish you.

Instead, you let your hand rest on her thigh, letting your fingers rub small patterns in to the fabric of her tight leather pants. She scoffed at you, as if daring you to continue teasing her, but she still didn't say anything. It was fine, you were almost home. Alexia would make you feel good, replace every thought in your mind of her, with the feeling of your girlfriend all over you. It was fine.

-----

The minute you were through the door, Alexia had you pressed up against the wall of the entry way, barely taking time to shut the door behind her. You reached for her, but she grabbed your hands with hers, pressing them back into the wall.

"No no, you wanted to be una zorrita, I will treat you like one."

"Alexia-"

"Cállate." She growled, moving her lips to your neck, working marks into the skin. Her teeth nipped at your skin, and you shuddered at the feeling. You were turned on, obviously. How could you not be? Alexia was biting at kissing at you like she wanted to eat you alive, pressing up against the wall, clearly preparing to fuck the brattiness out of you.

You weren't in the right headspace for this, though. Your brain was already flashing to times with her times that had been fueled with rage, and a passionate hatred. Times that were definitely not healthy. Alexia needed to stop. Now. Your breathing was quickening, your hands were starting to shake, and you needed her off, off now.

"Stop. Red, Alexia, stop" you managed, taking your hands and physically pushing Alexia away. She was off of you in a heartbeat at your words, her hands raised in the air, swollen lips falling into a concerned frown.

"Okay, okay. Stop. We stop." She assured you, taking in the way your whole body seemed to vibrate with anxiety. She had mistaken your body's reaction as being one of arousal, when it had been one of panic. "Mi amor? Talk to me." She pleaded softly.

You reached a shaky hand out towards your girlfriend, and she took it instantly, latching on and squeezing tight. You were unsteady, mind in overdrive. All you knew was that Alexia was safe, and you needed safe. You tried to take a step towards the blonde, but you were shaking too hard, and your legs practically gave out from under you. Alexia caught you easily, carefully lowering you to the ground. She made a movement as if to give you space again, not wanting to overwhelm you with her touch.

That was the opposite of what you needed, though, the feeling of her hand in yours being the only thing keeping you somewhat grounded.

"Ale," you gasped out, clinging onto her shirt.

"Está bien, está bien, te tengo." Alexia promised, allowing you to scramble closer into her arms. "Shh, shh, you are okay, amor, todo está bien."

You were a pile of limbs on the ground, just in the entry way of the house, a shaking mess collapsed against your girlfriend. You pressed your face closer into her neck, her loose blonde hair tickling your skin lightly. You couldn't get close enough to Alexia, would have preferred to climb into her skin if you could.

"Tighter," you mumbled.

"¿Qué?" She whispered back, her lips pressing a soft kiss into your hair.

"Tighter, please,"

Alexia tightened her arms around you, until it was almost painful, but it was exactly what you needed. Being surrounded by her was working, the scent of her perfume and her laundry detergent invaded your senses, one of her calloused hands sliding up under your shirt and moving slowly up and down your back.

"Mi bebé, estás a salvo, lo prometo."

Alexia wasn't sure what this was. One second, you were kissing her back, teasing her in the car on the way home, the next you were looking around like you weren't sure what was going on, or who was touching you. She thought she knew what you needed, but evidently, she was wrong.

You had calmed down significantly after a few minutes, settling into the feeling of Alexia's nails gently running through your hair.

"You back with me, amor?" She asked quietly.

"Yeah." You inhaled deeply, leaning away and looking, guiltily, at your girlfriend. "I'm so sorry, Alexia, I didn't mean to freak out like that."

Alexia immediately shook her head. "No, I am sorry, amor. I should have checked in sooner."

"Alexia you were just kissing me, there wasn't time to check in sooner." You dismissed, rising unsteadily to your feet, and holding out a hand to help the blonde up as well. She still looked like she disagreed with you, but she took your hand anyway, allowing you to help her to her feet.

You knew a conversation was imminent, and you began to walk into the living room. Alexia caught your hand, though, pulling you back into a tight hug. You melted into it, pressing your face into her shoulder and inhaling deeply. After minute, Alexia released you, tilting your chin up to look at her.

"Better?" She questioned.

"Yeah, much better."

Alexia nodded, laying a soft kiss on your forehead, before pulling you towards the living room once again. You sat slightly away from your girlfriend, mentally preparing yourself to tell her what was going on. The blonde frowned, but didn't move any closer.

"Amor. Did I do something to make you so upset?" Alexia asked, rushing through the question like she was terrified of your answer.

"No, no. It wasn't you. I got... overwhelmed. Tonight was a lot."

"Why was it a lot? What got you so riled up at the club? You were acting normal one second, and then you were all over me the next."

"I saw you at the bar... talking to that blonde girl? With the red top?" You trailed off, looking down at your hands. Alexia misunderstood.

"Bonita, I did not mean to make you jealous, I was just being nice."

"I wasn't jealous, Ale. I... I knew her. That girl. I knew her."

The midfielder took this in, nodding slowly. She was watching the expression on your face, carefully guarded, with just a hint of hurt peaking through.

"What did you know her from?" She wondered cautiously.

You took a deep, shuddering breath. "I used to date her. Back in London. Before I moved here."

"Oh... Oh. She is that ex. The one it did not work out so well with."

You let out a humorless laugh. "Yeah. Not so well."

"And seeing her made you very upset?" Alexia continued. You nodded. "Can you tell me why?"

"That relationship wasn't good. At first, she was fine. We worked well together. She got... controlling and manipulative pretty fast. It was awful. We were together 6 months, and in that time she completely destroyed me. I was unrecognizable." You paused, peaking at the blonde. She was looking at you, sympathy written clear across her face, giving you a small nod to tell you to keep going.

"I don't think I really realized how bad it was until I met you, and you were so different than she was. Always so sweet to me. And seeing her with you, I don't know. It set off my fight or flight. I needed to protect you from her, and myself from her, and at the same time I wanted to prove to her that I was doing well, that I was happy. I wasn't happy, for so long after we broke up, and every time our paths crossed, she always seemed so pleased with herself. I needed to feel like I was yours, and the only thing I could think to do was the get you to take control, and get me out of there." You finished, eyes locked on the fingernail you were fiddling with.

Alexia was quiet for a while. So long, in fact, that you were starting to get nervous.

Finally, she spoke. "Well, first, mi amor, I am so sorry that you were in such a destructive relationship. You deserve so much better than that. You are... you are perfect mi niña, and I am so sorry that she did not see that, and that she was so awful to you. I would like to talk more about this, later."

"But you should have told me, amor. What was going on, who I had been speaking too. I would have gotten you out of there if I knew you needed to leave. You have to talk to me. When you do not feel safe, whatever it is, you tell me, and I will take care of it. Always."

"And, amor, there are other ways for me to make you know that you are mine, than trying to get me to have sex with you. We do not mess around like that when you are not feeling right." Alexia said firmly.

You found that, suddenly, you could not meet her eyes. Hesitantly, the blonde slid closer to you, leaving her hand open on the couch next to you, an invitation. You took it appreciatively, feeling inexplicably safer when her large hand completely encapsulated yours.

"I am not mad, bebita. I promise. Can you tell me what was going on in your head when you pushed me away?" Alexia felt you tense next to her, and opened her mouth to withdraw the question. Before she could, you spoke.

"We always used to have sex after a fight, once we'd made up. It wasn't healthy, and we shouldn't have been doing it but we did. I was remembering that, one of the last times. I didn't realized how unsafe I felt around her until I was with you, and I felt so safe. My body couldn't decide whether it was safe or not, it was really confusing."

Alexia sighed deeply, and you prepared yourself for her to get angry. You were surprised she hadn't yet, but it was only a matter of time. Wasn't it?

"If something like this ever happens again, you have to communicate with me, yes? You should always feel safe with me. Can I... can I ask why you did not tell me?"

"I didn't think you'd want to hear about it." You confessed, meeting Alexia's confused gaze.

"Why?" The midfielder responded, sounding completely bewildered.

"Why would you want to hear about my ex girlfriend, Alexia?" You scoffed.

"Because it was upsetting you. And she hurt you. I want to hear about those things. You are mine amor. Not hers, I know that. I want to know when something is upsetting you; it will never make me upset with you. Never."

You looked so unsure, Alexia rested a hand on your cheek, stroking gently back and forth with her thumb. "You can tell me anything, amor, anything. You do not need to worry about my reaction. All I care about is you being okay, not being jealous of your awful ex girlfriend."

You nodded hesitantly, placing your hand over Alexia's, keeping her hand on your face as you leaned into the contact.

"Mi amor," she murmured. "I am sorry tonight was so hard for you. How are you feeling now?"

"Better." You lied.

"Better, but..." Alexia said, looking at you expectantly. You wished you could be annoyed with how well she knew you, but you couldn't. It just made you feel that much more loved.

"But... seeing her again, it was like I was back there, in her little apartment. She made me feel so worthless, and I felt that way again. Like I was nothing, worth nothing." You admitted, turning away briefly to rub at your face, very tired of crying this evening. Alexia didn't let you get far, though, wrapping a muscular arm around your shoulder and pulling your right back into her.

"No. No. You are worth everything. Everything I have to give you and more, bebé, all of it."

"What did I do to deserve someone as good as you?" You wondered aloud, almost accidentally. You didn't realize what you'd said until Alexia frowned, looking into your eyes intently. You got lost in the warm hazel there, as you always did, almost forgetting your question until she spoke.

"You are good. You deserve good. I will only ever give you good, amor. Only ever the best for my girl." Alexia declared, leaving a light kiss on your nose, and then one on your lips. Her gaze when she pulled back was so intense, you felt yourself blushing heavily.

"I love you." You said shakily, managing a watery smile.

"I love you more." Alexia promised, leaning in for another gentle kiss.

Another thing about Alexia; when she told you something, you believed it. She had a way with speaking with such conviction, that when she told you she loved you, you were instantly convinced that she did. And if Alexia loved you? If someone as good, as perfect as Alexia loved you? You must have been deserving.

-----

did this win the poll? no. had i already started it when i posted the poll? yes. in conclusion, the results of polls are meaningless unless you pick what i want you to pick :(

[nishayuro]

How do you feel a little angst but fluff with both Stanely and Xeno. Both them and reader have been friends since childhood, before the petrification reader got really hurt or terminally ill. They don't revive them till after the truces with Senku, he tells them about the healing property of the revival fluid. They went to go find them who they place in a secure place, hoping to see the one other person they cared about. I'm a sucker of both of them, either loving them as a romantic parther (all three) or just love for a very close friend/family. :D

Dr Stone Being StanXeno’s Terminally Ill lover 

A/N: I am a sucker for this trope omg thank you for this. I reread the whole america arc to the end again just to remember the detailsss

Genre: Angst, Fluff

GN! Reader, Poly!Stanley x Xeno x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cancer

(Dr.Stone manga spoilers ahead, but y’all have probably read it by now if y’all know who stanxeno are)

Date posted: 07/09/2024

Pre-Petrification: 

You met Stanley and Xeno in your elementary school, you three got along well and started being inseparable. 

You three grew up together, always being with each other and being present in each other’s achievements.

Whenever Xeno competed in contests, you and Stanley were there to support him. Whenever Stanley had a game, you and Xeno would be there to cheer on him. Whenever you had any performances, contests, or whatever you did, Stanley and Xeno would be there to support and cheer on you. 

Fast forward to your teenage years when you realised that you fell in love with not just one, but both of your best friends. 

Having the two just balanced each other out, it was impossible to not fall for them both.

Stanley and Xeno realised their feelings for you and each other after you attempted to date another person in order to get over them. 

That relationship made the two jealous, feeling as though your new partner stole you from them. They had more time alone together and fell for each other as well, but you were still the missing one in the equation.

When your partner ended up being a douchebag, they finally decided to confess their love for you at the same time, also confessing to each other. 

You three became a throuple since then. 

You three all reached your dream careers together, with Stanley becoming a Marine commander, Xeno a NASA Scientist, you a Biologist.

You and Xeno would comfort each other whenever Stanley gets deployed on dangerous missions. 

You and Stanley would often plan dates for the three of you whenever Xeno got too busy in his projects.

One day, you noticed a few symptoms, but decided to ignore them because you thought it was nothing serious. 

It wasn’t until you passed out and Xeno checked on you to realise that something was wrong.

They went with you to the doctor, and when you found out that you had cancer, it was as if your whole world crashed. 

Stanley and Xeno were no better, Stanley asked to be exempted from deployment for a while. Xeno then began doing extensive research to help you. 

It got to the point where you were confined and basically lived in the hospital.

Stanley and Xeno were always there with you, giving you words of security. 

You knew how much this hurts for the both of them, seeing you losing your life to your illness.

The day of the DARPA expo, both of them were called into work, leaving you alone at the hospital. 

You noticed a green light from your window, and the next thing you realised was you couldn't move. You thought you died then and there, mentally saying sorry and goodbye to the two loves of your life before your consciousness faded.

Meanwhile at the expo, when Stanley saw the green light, he immediately ordered everyone to get low and to not let their minds fade. 

During the 3,700 years, the two men thought about you a lot, how you were, where you are, or if they’ll ever see you and the other ever again. 

“Xeno…Y/N, I hope you both are alright…” Stanley thought as he busied his mind to not fade. He doesn’t know how long it's been, nor how long until he will be free again. Ever since the green light, he’s been thinking of ways to potentially get freed from his paralysis. His mind would sometimes wander to you, his last memory of you was when he and Xeno visited a day before the expo. You were getting weaker, he didn’t know how long you had left. If only he knew that that day could potentially be the last time he saw you, he would have stayed for longer. 

“7, 8, 9, 10. Y/N, Stan… I’ll find a way to get out of here and save you both. Y/N, even if it’s been over centuries, if there’s a chance of you still being alive, I’ll do all I can to cure you.” Xeno thought as he counted the seconds. That’s all he did, count to keep track of time and think of how he could survive in what will be a new era when he gets out. He’s recalling every piece of information he’s even known, forcing himself to never forget any. With all of the research wiped out, the knowledge will only live in his mind until he can write them down again. He’s keen on remembering the research for your cure, that could be his last hope.

Post-Petrification:

When Xeno woke up from his petrification, he immediately did things to ensure his survival as he waited for the other people to get freed. 

When Stanley and the others woke up, they immediately built a base and gathered all the resources to survive, slowly building up the American colony. 

It took years for them to go from the stone tools to the upgrades that would help them live more comfortably. 

Each hunt for food and resources, Stanley would scour the statues, hoping to maybe find yours. 

One night, Stanley asked Xeno how they’ll go about finding your statue, or if your statue is even intact. 

That was one of the few times Stanley got vulnerable, the last time was when your cancer got worse. 

Xeno then pulled out a map of all the possible locations, taking into consideration where you were, how many years it's been, how the topography changed, and all of that.

It was at times like this when Stanley was glad to have Xeno’s scary intelligence.

When they successfully made vehicles and aircrafts, they sent out the squad to go look for you which was led by Stanley, they took a few weeks to retrieve you. 

“Alright, this is location no.10. Let’s go.” Stanley commanded, each of his people looked at each statue closely, looking for you. Stanley himself meticulously looked around for you, it was hard to remain calm when he was so desperate to find you. He was anxious, didn’t know what state he’d find you in, or if you could be revived.  “Commander! Take a look!” one of them shouted, alerting him. He rushed towards her and looked down at the hole. His eyes widened when he realised it really was you. “Y/N… we finally found you.” He spoke. 

He dug the dirt more to reveal that your statue was in pieces. His heart sank at the realisation that you can’t wake up on your own, that you were gone for good. He still decided to gather all pieces of you, in case Xeno would be able to magically heal you. He was silent the whole ride back to the base, his crew has never seen him this depressed. They knew him as a resilient commander who was afraid of almost nothing. When he got back, he brought your statue directly to Xeno.

“I’m back, I found Y/N.” Stanley stated, entering the lab. “Welcome back, how are they-” Xeno stopped as he saw the way Stanley looked, it was a negative look. “Their statue is in pieces… I… how will they revive…” Stanley sat, emotions pooling, tears threatening to leave his eyes. “I…” for once, Xeno was at a loss for words. His mind couldn’t think straight.  He expected this outcome, but a part of him hoped that a miracle could have happened and kept your stone body safe. Xeno went to hug Stanley as they sobbed together for the loss of their lover. They decided to keep your statue somewhere safe, arranged and put you back into your form. This was their last way of having something to remember you by. When days get tough, they’d visit your statue and just talk as if you were really still there.

When Senku and the Kingdom of Science fought against the American colony and kidnapped Xeno, Stanley was furious. He already lost you, he couldn’t afford to lose Xeno as well. 

The whole chase happened, and in order to defeat Stanley, they had to petrify the whole globe again. 

After the 7 years of Petrification, Suika was able to revive Senku who in turn revived the others and Xeno, forming a truce with him. 

When Senku told Xeno about the healing properties of the revival fluid, as well as how they revived a lot of the statues that Tsukasa smashed, Xeno was amazed. 

He realised that you had another chance at life. 

“Hello, sorry for the intrusion. Yuzuriha, correct?” Xeno walked into Yuzuriha’s tent where she was making cloth. “Oh, Xeno. Can I help you with anything?” Yuzuriha answered. “Yes, actually. Senku told me that you were able to piece back together smashed statues and were able to revive them, is that correct?” Xeno asked, eyeing the woman. “Oh, yes. I spent a lot of time glueing pieces back together before. Why is that?” She asked, curious as to where this is going. “I have a job for you, if you wouldn’t mind. Follow me.” Xeno said, leading the way with Yuzuriha following after. 

He brought her to where you were kept. He was glad to find out that nothing much changed in the 7 years that passed. “Oh, a broken statue?” Yuzuriha asked, kneeling down to inspect the pieces. They weren't as bad as the ones broken by Tsukasa, yours was much easier. “Yes, they were someone very special to both Stan and I.” Xeno answered, looking at your stone face. 

Yuzuriha looked back at Xeno and saw the soft gaze he held. “So, you want me to put them back together and get Senku to revive them?” She asked. “Just put back together for now. I think Stanley would like to be here when they get revived.” Xeno answered. “Ok, you can count on me, Xeno!” Yuzuriha cheered, running to get her supplies. It took her no less than 2 hours to get you all pieced back together. 

Xeno felt alone, despite having everyone around him, the two people he cherished were still in stone. He could revive you, but he’d want Stanley to witness it as well, he knew how much pain Stanley kept when he thought you were unrevivable. So he waited for an opportunity, maybe in the soon future, to negotiate Stanley’s revival and then yours. 

When the astronaut selection happened, they decided to revive Stanley. Bringing the idea to Xeno, his eyes widened and he turned around, not wanting the others to see his emotional state. “If we’re reviving Stanley, may I ask for another one to get revived?” Xeno asked after the agreement, to which Senku agreed after learning that it wasn’t someone harmful and it was someone who could be useful. 

When Stanley got revived, his only thought was that it was an important mission, and he was assigned to pilot the manned rocket. When that was set, he and Xeno were left alone. “Stan… let’s go see Y/N’s statue.” Xeno said, to which Stanley immediately agreed to. Part of him hoped that he’d see you in the flesh, but he was also scared to hope. When they got there, Stanley was surprised to see that your statue was intact and dressed, the lines the only evidence of the shatter. “That petrification device is one of a kind, you know. Its mysterious science is quite elegant. Who knew that the reason for humanity’s collapse can also be the cure we’ve looked for.” Xeno said, looking at you. 

“Wait… you mean…?” Stanley stuttered, eyes wide looking at Xeno. “See for yourself.” Xeno said, handing him a bottle which the other assumed to be revival fluid. Stanley slowly uncapped the bottle and poured the liquid over you. Soon enough, your stone cracked and revealed you, alive. “What… where am I… huh?” You spoke as you blinked, eyes getting used to the sudden light. “Y/N… you’re actually alive…” Stanley whispered, afraid that this was an illusion. “Stan…Xeno…” you muttered. Stanley immediately brought you into a hug, his emotions spilling out. He didn’t need to be stoic when it was only you three. 

“The petrification from the medusa has healing properties. Senku shared to me that it was able to revive one of their comrades after you had a run in with them. It also healed the injuries from the war.” Xeno shared, “what? What’s going on…?” you asked. “That’s a story to tell for later, what I’m trying to say is that due to the petrification’s healing properties, the cancer in your body is no more.” Xeno replied, shocking both Stanley and yourself. “Really?!” you exclaimed, getting up to hug Xeno. “I do feel more energised than before. That’s amazing!” You added.

They ended up bringing you to Xeno’s place, filling you in with what you’ve missed for the years you’ve been petrified, and what they’re up to now. You learned that Stanley was revived to be the pilot of the rocket, while that scared you, you had trust in Xeno and Stanley that they will make sure that this mission is successful.

“Everyone, this is Dr. L/N, one of the renowned biologists of the old world.” Xeno introduced you to the crew. “Great! We have a biologist to help out with the agricultural cultivation! I desire all the different kinds of plants!” The guy who’s name you learned was Ryusui shouted. You helped them cultivate crops and helped with the agriculture in the Kingdom. Partnering up with Francios and making the food more nutritious and more easy to obtain. 

It wasn’t a secret that Stanley, Xeno, and you had something going on, but it wasn’t announced either. The others would just see how the other two were so much more different when with you. You were the “light” of the three, making them trust the other two more. With you there, it feels as if the other two were tamer. That however was put to test when someone decided it would be a good idea to flirt with you despite your protest and obvious uncomfort. “Back off from our partner.” Stanley’s commanding voice boomed, “lest you want to become one of the testing dummies in an experiment I’m working on.” Xeno added. making the other person cower in fear, that was when they found out that you three were in fact official. 

When everything was settled and humanity was slowly rising back up and with the legal rules of old age gone, the three of you decided to get married and live as how you’ve wanted to in your old lives. You thought that your life back in the old days would end easily, with you succumbing to your illness and leaving behind your two lovers, but thanks to the phenomenon, you were able to restart and live a new life with the two loves of your life. 

masterlist

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[midnite-c6]

After reading ur patient!namgyu fanfic I was just wondering if you could pretty please w a cherry on top write a fic about Seowan !! Doesnt have to be doctor x patient, I just need more fics w my beloved Seowan 🔥🔥 have a great day/noon/night!

i haven't seen any fics about seo-wan, it makes me so sad, but here's oneDJFH also, i added squid game tags because i want more nam-gyu lovers to see roh jaewon's character in daily dose of sunshine!! FIRST NON SQUIDGAME FIC .. my fav schizo TT.

kim seo-wan x reader !! <3 warnings: fluff , angst ?! , mentions of mental illness </3

つ⁠｡⁠☆ he's your study buddy!! both of you couldn't pass the exams the first time and you guys bonded over that. the two of you would sit next to each other when the professors lecturing about a lesson, since you both share the interest of being determined in passing the exams this year, there wouldn't be alot of talking during a lecture, but afterwards he's actually quite talkative!

he would also share his notes, giving you a bunch of sticky notes, all of them would have silly random doodles and small comments about how "you can do it!"

you manage to even hang out with him after classes ..which still includes studying, but you told him he needs to let lose, even for a little while. eating noodles in those small shops on the sidewalk, visiting libraries, and if you feel like your falling behind in studies, he would share the other side of his headset, making you listen to the lecture he found on youtube.

a new store would open up right next to the university, because the lessons were tiring and obsessing over the tests is unhealthy, the two of you decide to explore. it was actually a computer-shop.

since then, it's been you and seo-wan's new hobby, to play videogames for hours after lectures, how you were practically his pocket healer, how you two can't play alone without the other right by their side.

this newly-shared interest has gotten you two alot closer, you'd even ask him out, gratefully, the feelings are mutual, kim seo-wan is a simple man. now there'd be long sessions of kissing inside his small apartment, cosplaying, the two of you didn't have alot of money, but this was enough.

video games became a part of your life, one to escape reality. but unfortunately, this hit a little bit harder for kim seo-wan. you'd notice how he wouldn't take the time to study anymore. of course, as the concerned lover you are, you would remind him all the time, but he just wouldn't budge.

his parents were nice, they'd always treat you like you were family, even cooking dinner or lunch for you whenever you come over. since you haven't seen seo-wan in awhile, you'd ask them, only to find out your boyfriend has been sent to a psychiatric unit.

you would visit him everyday, telling him about your day, and asking about his. his day was filled with thinking of you, playing ping-pong with the other patients, and this fantasy world he lives in. but whenever you were too busy to visit, he'd be extra depressed inside the hospital and says he has ran out of mana. </3

you were always intrigued whenever he would tell you about his visions. his stories contain that you were truly his 'mediator', and that you're there in his life to save him. "this is very unprofessional, oh my dear.. mediator, but i'm inlove with you, for you make me look forward to explore even the darkest caves or the highest mountains." he'd take your hand to place a soft kiss on-top. he had forgotten your previous relationship before, atleast he still loves you in the new world he's living in.

you'd end up taking the test without him, but you'd never talk about it in the hospital, you know he needs more time.

in the end, you two agree upon each other to fight the fire dragon together, whatever the future may hold. because, as he confidentally says: "once i've saved up enough mana and leveled up all my armor, i choose you to come with me. you're the only one i can trust in defeating the fire dragon. i will protect you with all my life, my dear mediator!"

i'm sobbing just thinking about this bye ☹️☹️☹️ was gonna do nsfw parts too as i usually do but like i was too up in my feelings LMAOFHBRK trust im gonna post sum nsfw story next 🤞🏻

[edenesth]

03. The Enforcer — By Order of the Black Pirates

An 'Ice On My Teeth' Comeback Special Series

Pairing: gang member!Yunho x fem!reader

AU: gang au

Word Count: 22.7k

Summary: The towering enforcer of the Black Pirates, both disarming and deadly—his easy charm capable of winning over enemies, while his legendary fury dominates the battlefield. But his unbreakable facade begins to crack when he meets a psychologist during a mission—someone who can see through his carefully crafted mask, just as he can see through hers. Beneath her confident exterior lies a frightened soul lost in a dark world, and for the first time, he finds himself compelled to protect someone in a way he never expected.

Genre: angst, hurt/comfort

Trigger Warnings: mentions of child abuse, emotional blackmail, attempted sexual assault, scars, trafficking, blood and slight gore, language, contains dark themes in general

SERIES MASTERLIST | ATEEZ MASTERLIST

"Ryoichi Sato," Hongjoong murmured, studying the profile in his hands. "Founder of the Prestige Asylum—a supposed haven for the mentally ill. And you're telling me targeting him will benefit us... how exactly?"

Yunho gestured for him to turn to the next page. "Take a closer look, hyung. Do you notice a pattern in the patients he takes in?"

The Captain flipped through the thick file, his brows furrowing. Then, slowly, he straightened in his seat, his expression hardening. "They're... holy shit. They're all high-profile criminals. Wait—this isn't just a regular asylum, is it?" He looked up sharply at his brother, who wore a smug smile.

"Exactly," Yunho said, his tone calm but charged with conviction. "It's a front—a sanctuary for wealthy criminals. Cartel bosses, human trafficking kingpins, and, most importantly, rival gang leaders. All hiding out under the guise of being mentally unfit to face trial. And guess who's running the whole operation? A corrupt, retired official." He leaned forward, his voice lowering. "Now imagine the rise in our standing if we take these fools down and expose them. The Black Pirates would dominate the underworld again."

For a moment, Hongjoong stared at the Enforcer, his jaw slightly slack in astonishment. While their gang still held a prominent position at the top, he couldn't deny that their recent missteps had affected their reputation in the mafia world. Yunho's plan was undeniably tempting—a chance to reclaim their dominance.

But reality soon intruded, and his expression hardened. Seonghwa's precarious situation with the Red Room loomed large, the weight of unresolved tensions pressing heavily on his mind. Could they really afford to take on such a massive mission right now?

"I'm sure it all sounds good, Yunho," he began cautiously, "but—"

"Hyung, I know what you're thinking," the taller man cut in, raising a second file. "But I've already thought this through. You'll see here that Yeosang and I have everything planned out. Listen, I know things haven't exactly been smooth for us lately, but think about it—who are we? We're the Black fucking Pirates. It's time we reminded the underworld who runs this game."

The leader glanced at the new file, then back at Yunho. For a moment, hesitation flickered in his eyes, but it was quickly overtaken by a glimmer of determination. Whatever obstacles lay ahead, Yunho's unwavering confidence was infectious, and the prospect of restoring their gang's power was too enticing to ignore.

"Yeah, you're right. Let's do it."

With that, he pushed thoughts of his eldest brother's precarious situation to the back of his mind. The Captain had given him the green light, and now it was time to execute. With Yeosang's meticulous planning and Jongho's steady hand in logistics, the groundwork had been laid faster than even he anticipated.

Now, dressed in a sharp suit and carrying an air of unshakable authority, Yunho strode into the Prestige Asylum under the alias Stefano Lee, a "security consultant" hired to assess the facility's operations. From the moment he stepped through the doors, his towering presence commanded attention. Unease rippled through the staff; the occasional nervous glance cast his way only fed his confidence. Awe wasn't uncommon, either—not that it surprised him. The Enforcer knew the effect he had on people.

His steps echoed purposefully through the pristine halls, his sharp eyes taking in every detail. He allowed himself a moment of smug satisfaction, recalling how effortlessly he had sold his cover. If life had gone differently, he may have ended up on a movie set, playing the leading man. But fate had dealt him a different hand—a far grittier role to play.

And that was fine. He owed everything to Hongjoong, the man who had saved him from a life of aimless wandering. This mission wasn't just about taking down the asylum or the criminals it sheltered—it was about proving himself again, reminding the underworld of what the Black Pirates could do when they set their sights on a target.

His lips tugged into a small, confident smirk as his gaze locked onto the man he'd been waiting for. Dr Sergei Ivanov, head psychologist, walked with a cautious air that betrayed a sharp mind. He had spent days studying the asylum's organisational structure, and Ivanov's name stood out like a beacon. The man was vital, a potential key to cracking open this entire operation.

For Yunho, the next step was clear: bring the head psychologist to his side, whether through persuasion or pressure. The poor old Russian man would learn quickly—resistance wasn't an option.

Straightening his tie, he approached with the confidence of someone who already owned the room. His posture, his stride, even the slight tilt of his head—all radiated an unspoken message: You're going to listen to me, whether you like it or not.

"Dr Ivanov," he called smoothly, his voice cutting through the quiet like a blade. "Stefano Lee. I believe we need to have a conversation."

His tone wasn't a question; it was a declaration. Time to get to work.

From across the hall, you stood unnoticed, your gaze fixed on the interaction unfolding between your mentor and the so-called security consultant. Stefano Lee—the name had been whispered through every corner of the asylum ever since Chairman Sato announced his arrival. The founder himself had vouched for the man, boasting of his unparalleled expertise and magnetic charm.

But you'd been wary of him from the start.

Unlike the rest of the staff, who either fawned over his imposing presence or shrank under the weight of it, you felt neither awe nor intimidation. What you felt was a nagging sense of scepticism.

Stefano was too polished, his every move carefully calculated. The way he carried himself screamed confidence, sure—but in his eyes, there was something far more telling. A spark of determination that went beyond professionalism. It wasn't the kind of fire you'd expect from someone hired to conduct a mundane security assessment.

This man had an agenda.

You had written it off as mere curiosity at first, content to watch him from afar and let others fall under his spell. But now? Watching him pull Dr Ivanov aside with that charming yet no-nonsense demeanour? That was when the alarm bells went off.

He was a security consultant, for heaven's sake. What possible business could he have with the head psychologist?

Your eyes narrowed, tracking their movements as he gestured toward a side corridor. Dr Ivanov's reluctance was clear in the stiffness of his shoulders, though he followed without protest.

Something wasn't right.

The uneasy twist in your gut only tightened as you lingered, debating whether to intervene. There was no reason for you to care—not when you were already walking a thin line just by being here. But Dr Ivanov wasn't just your mentor; he was one of the few people in this institution who still had a shred of integrity left.

And Stefano Lee? He was the very embodiment of the polished predators you had learned to recognise far too well.

Your fists clenched at your sides as you made your decision. If this man thought he could play his games unnoticed, he was sorely mistaken.

You weren't about to sit back and watch.

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"Mr. Lee, to what do I owe the pleasure?" Dr Ivanov asked, his tone polite but cautious. He wore a civil smile, though the tension in his eyes betrayed the wariness beneath it.

Yunho settled into the chair across from him, his tall frame making the neat, utilitarian office seem smaller than it was. His eyes swept the room with the precision of someone who missed nothing. Sparse decor. Everything is meticulously arranged. Not a single photo or personal touch to suggest any life outside of this institution.

Work, and only work.

It was a treasure trove of deductions for the Enforcer. The absence of familial ties or sentimental keepsakes hinted at a man whose entire identity revolved around his profession. A loner, perhaps. Someone who found solace in control and order. That told the gang member all he needed to know about how to handle him.

"Ah, Dr Ivanov," Yunho said smoothly, leaning back in the chair with an air of casual confidence. "You know how thorough Chairman Sato likes to be. My job is to ensure this facility operates as securely and efficiently as possible. Cooperation from department heads like yourself will make that infinitely easier."

His tone was light, almost friendly, but his eyes carried a weight that made the head psychologist pause.

Dr Ivanov let out a small, dry chuckle, clasping his hands together on the desk. "A man dedicated to his work is always admirable, Mr. Lee. But I must admit, I fail to see how my department could have any bearing on your assessments. Surely the realm of psychology is far removed from the concerns of security?"

The scepticism was clear, though the Russian man hid it behind a veneer of civility. He was testing Yunho, trying to gauge his intent.

The taller man's lips curled into a faint smile—charming yet predatory, as if he were indulging the doctor in a harmless game of wits. "You'd be surprised, Doctor, how much overlap there can be. Security isn't just about locks and cameras. It's about people. Predicting their behaviour. Understanding their motivations."

He leaned forward slightly, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over the desk. "And from what I've gathered, you're the expert when it comes to the minds within these walls. Both staff and patients alike."

The head psychologist's smile faltered, if only for a moment before he recovered. "Flattery, Mr. Lee? I didn't take you for the type."

"Not flattery," Yunho countered, his tone hardening just enough to make his point. "Respect. The kind of respect one gives to someone with insight others might not possess. Insight that could be… very useful."

The silence that followed was heavy, the tension in the air almost tangible. The Enforcer let it hang there, his eyes locked onto Dr Ivanov's with a focus that bordered on unnerving.

"Now, Doctor," he continued, his voice dropping an octave, smooth but with an undercurrent of steel, "why don't we make this easy for both of us? I have questions, and you have answers. All I need is your cooperation. After all, it's in both our interests to ensure this institution remains… secure."

The elderly man's fingers twitched against the desk, his composure cracking ever so slightly under Yunho's gaze. He wasn't sure what game this so-called consultant was playing, but he could feel the noose tightening around him, one carefully calculated word at a time.

He adjusted his posture, his fingers steepling as he studied the man before him, his professional mask unwavering. "Mr. Lee," he began carefully, each word deliberate, "I appreciate your regard for my expertise. But forgive me if I fail to see how the psychology department intersects with your security evaluation. Perhaps if you were more forthcoming about your... intentions, I could provide better assistance."

The Enforcer leaned back in his chair, the movement slow, deliberate, and dripping with confidence, as though he owned not just the office but the very air in it. A faint smirk tugged at his lips, sharp as a knife's edge. "Intentions?" he echoed, his voice smooth, almost playful. "Doctor, my only intention is to make sure this place runs as securely as the Chairman expects. Isn't that why I'm here?"

"Of course," Ivanov replied, though the faint crack in his measured tone betrayed him. "But from my perspective, our patients and their care protocols seem far removed from your area of concern. Surely there are other departments better suited to your inquiries—maintenance, perhaps, or surveillance?"

Yunho's smirk widened, but the amusement in his expression didn't quite reach his eyes. "Oh, I've already had enlightening conversations with those departments," he said, his tone laced with charm and a trace of menace. "Very helpful people, really. But here's the thing, Doctor." He leaned forward, his massive frame casting an imposing shadow across the desk as he clasped his hands loosely. "In a place like this, the locks on the doors are only half the battle. The minds inside—those matter just as much. Don't you agree?"

The head psychologist's lips pressed into a thin line, his eyes narrowing slightly at the repeated emphasis. "I would agree," he admitted cautiously, "but that still doesn't explain—"

"Doesn't explain what?" Yunho cut in smoothly, his voice dropping a note lower, the quiet intensity in it demanding attention. "Why I'd care about the dynamics between staff and patients? Why I'd want to understand how the people here interact with each other?" His smile returned, this time sharper, more calculated. "Doctor, wouldn't you say that understanding human behaviour is key to preventing... incidents?"

Ivanov's fingers tightened around the desk's edge, the slight movement not escaping Yunho's notice. "Naturally," the head psychologist replied, his tone measured, though unease flickered in his eyes. "But if you're implying there's something amiss with the dynamics here, I assure you—"

"I'm not implying anything," Yunho interrupted, his tone softening, though the tension in the room only grew. "I'm just a curious man doing his job. After all, the Chairman hired me to be thorough." He let his gaze drift across the sparse, clinical office before settling back on the elderly man with laser-like focus. "And I am thorough."

Dr Sergei Ivanov, seasoned in dissecting minds, found himself at a rare loss. The man before him was an enigma—a puzzle that refused to align. Something about Stefano Lee spoke of a purpose that went far beyond his supposed role. Who was this man? A mere consultant, or something much more dangerous?

The silence that followed hung thick and oppressive. Ivanov exhaled slowly, forcing himself to meet Yunho's gaze. "You certainly live up to your reputation, Mr. Lee," he said finally, his voice steady but cautious. "I see why the Chairman holds you in such high regard."

The young man chuckled, low and unsettling. "Flattery, Doctor? I didn't peg you for the type."

The psychologist's jaw tightened at having his own words thrown back at him, but he managed a thin smile. "Simply acknowledging skill where it's due. Though I must admit, your methods of information-gathering are... unique."

"It's all about perspective," Yunho replied as he stood, his deliberate movements amplifying his towering presence. "And from where I'm standing, I'd say we're off to a good start, wouldn't you?"

Dr Ivanov didn't respond immediately, his mind racing to piece together the enigma in front of him. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, a sharp knock shattered the tension, and the door swung open without waiting for an answer.

"Then I'm sure Chairman Sato would be thrilled to hear about this collaboration." Your casual tone hung in the air like a threat, and for the first time, the Enforcer's composure faltered ever so slightly. The mention of Ryoichi Sato was a card played with precision—a warning that if his intentions were exposed now, it could bring his mission to a grinding halt.

You strode in briskly, a file clutched in one hand, your eyes fixed solely on your mentor as though Stefano Lee were little more than a shadow. "Sir," you said crisply, your earlier veiled threat delivered as if it were a passing remark, "you're needed in the PICU ward. A patient is threatening suicide."

The head psychologist shot to his feet, hastily snatching the file from your hand. His gaze darted toward the gang member, unease flickering in his expression. "I-I..."

You finally turned your attention to the so-called security consultant, your expression unreadable as you placed a reassuring hand on Dr Ivanov's arm. "It's alright, sir. You go. I'll handle Mr. Lee."

"But—"

"There's no time to waste," you interjected, your voice calm yet unyielding. "Go."

Your mentor hesitated for a moment longer, then nodded reluctantly. He cast the guest a wary glance, his polite facade barely holding. "Mr. Lee," he said, forcing a tight smile, "thank you for your understanding."

Yunho inclined his head, his smile returning with practised ease as he buried any trace of unease. "The pleasure's all mine, Doctor."

With one final look, the Russian man hurried out of the office, leaving the room thick with unspoken tension as the door clicked shut behind him. Now, it was just you and Stefano Lee, his enigmatic facade meeting your calculated indifference.

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"Since you're so keen on understanding how our department operates, let me show you the patients' favourite spot," you said, your tone laced with thinly veiled sarcasm as you led him down the verdant pathways of the institution. The tension between you hung heavy in the air as the distant sound of rustling leaves mingled with the faint hum of the asylum's ever-present security systems.

The path opened into a pristine stretch of green, encircled by neatly maintained fences.

"The tennis courts?" Yunho asked, his brow arching, an edge of disbelief creeping into his voice.

You turned sharply on your heel, your piercing glare locking onto him. "Why so surprised? I thought you knew everything there is to know around here. Or…" You paused, your voice dropping into a sly mockery. "Let me guess. Maybe your research wasn't as extensive as you thought. There's a lot more to this place than meets the eye, Stefano Lee… or whatever your real name is."

He froze for a moment, the faintest flicker of surprise breaking through his carefully constructed mask. You could see the gears in his head turning, his sharp mind trying to recalibrate. But for once, it seemed, he had no immediate retort.

The Enforcer straightened, forcing a grin that was too sharp, too deliberate. "Of course, that's my real name. And you're right—maybe I should have done a better job researching my client. But I know enough about you, at least," he said, eyeing your name tag.

"Do you?" you countered instantly, one brow arching in amusement. "So you know my name. Big deal. That's basic information."

Yunho leaned back slightly, shoving his hands into his pockets in a transparent attempt to feign control. But the tension in his posture betrayed him. "I know you have a love-hate relationship with your job, Dr Prude."

There it was. That name. The one whispered behind your back by the staff who envied your success, your precision, your unapologetic ambition. It stung—because it was meant to. But you'd heard it all before. And now this stranger was trying to weaponise it against you.

"Is that all?" you asked, your voice cool and sharp like a blade. "So you know the playground gossip. Congratulations. But let me make something perfectly clear, Stefano"—you spat his name with venom—"you don't scare me."

Your words hit like a slap, and his grin faltered for the briefest moment. He was losing his footing, and you could see the frustration creeping into his eyes, no matter how hard he tried to suppress it.

"You are right about one thing, though," you continued, taking a deliberate step closer. "I do have a love-hate relationship with this job. Which is why I don't care what you're really here for. Just leave me and my mentor out of it."

He scoffed, the sound laced with disbelief. "I don't know what you mean by that. I'm only here to do my job—"

You snorted, cutting him off without hesitation. "Save the act. Do you really expect me to believe intimidating the head psychologist is part of your job description?"

The sharpness of your words sent a flicker of unease across his face, and for a moment, he seemed to lose his usual composure. You followed his gaze as it shifted—almost involuntarily—toward the tennis courts.

Your smirk widened as your eyes zeroed in on the figure lingering near the edge of the court. Clad in staff attire, the man moved with calculated casualness, but it was clear he was out of place.

"And your not-so-subtle friend over there?" you added, nodding toward Yeosang, whose attempts to blend in were painfully obvious. "He tells me more than enough about you."

His jaw tightened, his calm slipping as the realisation sank in—you'd not only seen through him but had also spotted his ally.

He shot a sharp look toward his brother, who froze, his alert eyes locking onto you. The Phantom, clearly aware his cover had been blown, remained rigid as Yunho gave a subtle shake of his head, signalling him to stand down.

The silence stretched, thick with tension, as he turned back to you. His usual confidence was cracking, the weight of your words pressing down on him like a vice.

You could see it—the frustration, the disbelief, the dawning understanding that he'd underestimated you. And it was exhilarating.

Fuck, I really underestimated her.

You sighed, observing the flicker of tension in the man's expression. Despite his best efforts to maintain an air of indifference, you could see the turmoil beneath the surface—the faint crease in his brow, the subtle tightening of his jaw. For a fleeting moment, you almost felt bad for him. Almost.

It was clear that whatever grand plans he had were now in shambles, and you were entirely to blame.

"Listen, I—" he began, his voice low, tinged with exasperation, but you raised a hand, cutting him off before he could say more.

"No," you said firmly, your tone leaving no room for argument. "You don't have to explain yourself to me. You don't owe me anything. But…" You allowed a sly smile to curl your lips as you glanced toward the Phantom, who still stood frozen by the tennis courts, visibly tense. "You might owe your buddy an apology for this failure."

Yunho followed your gaze, his lips pressing into a thin line as Yeosang subtly shifted his weight, clearly displeased at their mission running into such a huge error this early on.

You turned back to the taller man, tilting your head slightly as you regarded him with curiosity. Who were these men? What organisation were they from? You didn't need to be a genius to figure out they weren't who they claimed to be. Yunho might have come here under the guise of a security consultant, but his polished act was starting to crack under scrutiny.

Not that it mattered to you. You weren't particularly interested in who they were or why they were here. If anything, you'd be amused to see them succeed. The Chairman was nowhere near a saint, and if these strangers were here to exact some kind of revenge or justice, well… you wouldn't shed a tear.

Still, you knew better than to get involved.

"I don't know what you have planned," you continued, your voice softening just slightly, "but don't worry. I won't tell anyone about this."

His brows furrowed, his confusion evident as you took a step closer, lowering your voice. "Just stay out of my way, and Dr Ivanov's, and we'll stay out of yours. Deal?"

For a long moment, the two of you stood in silence, the weight of your words hanging heavily between you. Then, with a faint smirk, you bowed your head slightly—a gesture more mocking than respectful.

"Best of luck, Stefano," you added, your tone carrying a finality that left no room for further discussion. Without waiting for a response, you turned and walked away, your confident strides kicking up the faintest swirl of dust from the gravel path.

He remained rooted to the spot, watching your retreating figure with a mix of frustration and something he couldn't quite place—admiration? Awe?

In all his years as a member of the Black Pirates, he'd never encountered anyone who could unsettle him quite like you had. His mind raced, replaying every moment of the exchange, trying to pinpoint where he'd lost control.

Damn it.

The intelligence expert of the gang approached cautiously, his usual calm demeanour marred by a hint of irritation. "She figured us out already—how? What did you do?"

Yunho's jaw tightened at the accusation, his gaze snapping to meet his brother's. The cold sharpness in his eyes made it clear he didn't appreciate the insinuation. "I didn't do anything outside the plan. It was her... she happened. We underestimated her," he muttered, though his tone carried an odd lack of animosity when it came to you.

"Great... so what now?" Yeosang asked quietly, his eyes darting toward the path where you had disappeared, his unease evident.

The taller man exhaled slowly, dragging a hand through his hair. "Now?" he repeated, a faint, almost self-deprecating smirk pulling at his lips. "Now we regroup."

But even as he spoke, he couldn't shake the impact you'd left on him. For all his meticulous planning, you'd proven to be a wild card he hadn't accounted for—a reminder that even the sharpest strategies could falter when faced with an unpredictable force.

Yeosang nodded reluctantly and led Yunho toward a secluded area away from prying eyes. His voice dropped to a whisper. "She knows we're not who we claim to be. I say we deal with her before she gets in the way."

Yunho frowned deeply, shaking his head. "Are you insane? She's the deputy head psychologist. If something happens to her, especially right after being seen with me, it'll raise every red flag imaginable."

"So what, we're just gonna let her roam around freely, knowing full well we're here to take down her boss?" the Phantom growled under his breath, his frustration simmering beneath the surface.

"She won't say anything," Yunho replied with a certainty that only seemed to irritate Yeosang further.

"Oh, yeah? And how exactly do you know that?"

Yunho closed his eyes briefly, the memory of your calm, pointed words flashing in his mind. "Because she told me so," he said simply.

His brother let out a sharp scoff. "And you believe her? She's a damn shrink, my friend. Those types know exactly how to mess with your head—get under your skin and twist the truth until you don't know what's real anymore."

The taller man's eyes snapped open, his voice cutting through Yeosang's scepticism with an uncharacteristic sharpness. "I'm not an idiot, Yeo. I know how to spot a lie, and she wasn't lying. She may be loyal to Ivanov, but she's not loyal to this place."

Yeosang's frown deepened, his jaw clenching as he weighed Yunho's words. "Well, for our sake, I hope you're right," he muttered darkly. "Because if you're not, we're fucked."

Yunho didn't respond, his mind already turning over the possibilities. Deep down, he knew Yeosang wasn't wrong to be cautious, but he also couldn't ignore the strange certainty that had settled in his gut. You weren't their ally, but for now, you weren't their enemy either. And that was a risk he was willing to take.

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"Hyung, permission to switch targets."

The words seemed to hang in the air as Yeosang's irritation with the situation persisted. "Switch targets?"

The Captain, who had been listening in silence, finally spoke, his voice calm but sharp. "Let me guess, Yunho—you want to collaborate with the deputy head psychologist now?"

The Enforcer nodded, his gaze steady even as he bowed his head slightly, ashamed of his failure. Hongjoong's lips pursed, his expression unreadable, but he didn't speak right away.

Jongho, who had been sitting quietly nearby, leaned forward slightly, his thoughtful gaze fixed on Yunho. "You know what? That actually makes a lot of sense," he said, his voice calm and measured. "Based on what you said, she's incredibly observant and perceptive. Just the fact that she managed to see through you and spot Yeosang hyung, despite all our precautions, speaks volumes about her. If there's anyone on the inside who could be an asset, it's her."

The faintest hint of a smirk tugged at Yunho's lips at the youngest's words. He agreed wholeheartedly—you were something else.

Hongjoong sighed deeply, running a hand over his face as he considered the implications. "If we're going to shift our approach, I want this done carefully. No risks we can't manage." His voice dropped slightly, tension seeping into his words. "We're already stretched thin with Seonghwa still stranded at the Red Room. I don't want another loose thread to worry about."

Yunho nodded, his voice firm. "I'll handle it, hyung. She won't be a problem."

The gang leader's sharp gaze fixed on him. "Go ahead, then. Do what you think is best, but if this backfires, it's on you."

"Understood."

Yeosang let out an exasperated breath, his frustration was evident. "You're really putting a lot of faith in someone who works for the Chairman. Just because she hasn't blown our cover yet doesn't mean she's not a threat."

"She hasn't blown it because she doesn't want to," the Enforcer countered, his tone unyielding. "Again, she's not loyal to Ryoichi Sato—we've been over this already."

The Anchor nodded, his thoughtful expression unwavering. "If she's really disillusioned with this place, that gives us leverage. She could be the key to understanding the Chairman's weaknesses."

Hongjoong sighed again, rubbing his temples. "Fine," he said finally, his tone resigned but firm. "Do it. But tread carefully. The moment she becomes a liability, you pull out. Clear?"

"Crystal," Yunho replied without hesitation.

The leader's gaze softened just slightly, enough to show the trust he still had in his team. "Good. Now go before I change my mind."

As Yunho left the room, a faint smirk playing on his lips, Yeosang shook his head in disbelief. "This is a mistake," he muttered.

"Maybe," Hongjoong admitted, his voice measured. "But mistakes can lead to victories if you know how to play them."

"Or they can get us all killed," Yeosang muttered under his breath.

Jongho offered a faint smile. "Let's hope Yunho hyung's instincts are as sharp as he thinks they are." The room fell silent, the weight of their gamble settling heavily over them all.

The Enforcer adjusted the cuffs of his tailored coat as he stood outside the towering gates of Prestige Asylum. This time, he was alone. Yeosang had made it clear he wouldn't tag along—not because he didn't care but because watching his brother navigate the intricate dance of persuasion with you had proven too frustrating for the Phantom. Yunho didn't blame him; even he wasn't entirely sure what to expect from you.

The mansion had been tense that morning, Yeosang offering only a curt nod and a muttered "good luck" as Yunho prepared to leave. It wasn't that he didn't want this to work; in fact, Yeosang probably wanted success more than anyone else. But his scepticism about you was evident. Yunho could almost hear the Phantom's voice in his head as he walked up the familiar path leading to the asylum: Don't mess this up. Don't let her outplay you again.

Yunho smirked at the thought, his confidence unshaken. She won't outplay me. Not this time.

Inside the asylum, the sterile halls felt even quieter than before, as if the oppressive atmosphere itself could sense the weight of his intentions. He stopped at the front desk, his smooth charm carefully masking the tension simmering beneath his calm exterior. "I'm here to see the deputy head psychologist," he said with a polite smile.

The receptionist glanced up, a flicker of hesitation crossing her face. "Mr. Lee?" she asked, her tone cautious. She suppressed her reservations, silently questioning what the new security consultant could possibly want with Dr Prude. "Do you have an appointment?"

"No," Yunho replied smoothly, his tone calm yet firm, "but I believe she'll want to see me."

The receptionist hesitated briefly before picking up the phone. After a quiet exchange, she looked back at him and nodded. "She'll meet you in her office. Down the hall, third door on the left."

As he made his way, his mind replayed the events of your last encounter—a potent mix of frustration and admiration swirling within him. You had dismantled his plan with precision, exposing cracks he hadn't even considered, and yet it wasn't just your brilliance that lingered in his mind. It was the fire in your eyes, the unyielding confidence that matched his own, if not exceeded it.

He knocked twice before opening the door.

You sat at your desk, head tilted slightly as you scribbled notes into a file. For a moment, you didn't acknowledge him, but when your sharp gaze finally met his, the tension between you crackled, unspoken yet palpable. Neither of you was willing to back down.

"Back so soon, Stefano?" you asked, your tone dripping with sarcasm. "I thought you'd had enough of me last time."

He chuckled softly, closing the door behind him. "Believe it or not, I'm not here for round two of our verbal sparring match." His voice dipped slightly, deliberate and measured. "I'm here to make you an offer."

You leaned back in your chair, raising an eyebrow as if to say, This should be good. "An offer? What could someone like you possibly offer me?"

"A way out," he said simply, his confidence unwavering.

Your reaction was subtle but telling—a faint twitch of your brow, a brief stilling of your fingers as they tapped against the desk. "And what makes you think I need a way out?" you countered, your voice steady and cool.

"Because you're too smart to waste your talents here," he said, his tone softening, almost conspiratorial. "You know this place is rotten to its core. You've seen Ryoichi Sato's true nature. Why stay loyal to an institution that doesn't deserve you?"

You folded your arms, your expression inscrutable. "So, your grand plan is for me to betray my employer and join forces with… whoever you really are?"

He stepped closer, his intense gaze locking with yours, shrinking the space between you. "I'm not asking you to betray anyone. I'm asking you to work with us. Help us take down the Chairman, and in return, we'll make sure you come out of this unscathed."

You tilted your head, studying him as if weighing every word. "And why should I trust you? You're not exactly the picture of transparency."

He smirked, leaning casually against the edge of your desk. "You don't have to trust me. Trust your instincts. You've already figured out I'm not here to hurt you or Ivanov. If anything, we're on the same side."

The room grew quiet as you considered his words, the sharp gears of your mind undoubtedly working overtime. Finally, you leaned forward slightly, your voice laced with pointed sarcasm. "Huh, sounds tempting. It might be tempting for someone reckless enough to commit treason, that is. But here's the part where you're wrong—I have no intention of risking my life for your ambitious little plan. After all, if you were as confident as you pretend to be, you wouldn't need me. Thanks, but no thanks."

The rejection landed sharper than Yunho anticipated, and though he cursed internally, a part of him couldn't help but admire your resistance. "I understand your concerns," he said, his voice calm despite the undercurrent of frustration.

"You don't understand anything, Stefano," you snapped, cutting him off with a sharp edge in your tone. Your eyes burned with something deeper—an unspoken burden he wasn't privy to but knew he needed to uncover. Why were you so adamant against cooperating, especially when your loyalty to the Chairman seemed nonexistent?

"Fine," he conceded, raising his hands slightly in mock surrender. "I won't argue with you. But think about what I said. The offer won't stay on the table forever."

You narrowed your eyes at him, but there was a spark of intrigue you couldn't completely hide. "I already said no. You can take your offer elsewhere."

Straightening, the Enforcer's smirk returned, slow and deliberate. "You know damn well there's not many in this damned institution I can rely on like you. Don't be so hasty to turn me down—I'll convince you, Dr Prude."

With that, he turned and walked out, leaving you to scoff in disbelief. Alone once more, you sat in silence, frustration mingling with the undeniable curiosity he had managed to spark.

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The soft click of the door opening broke the silence in your office, pulling you from your thoughts. Dr Ivanov entered, his sharp eyes immediately locking onto yours, weariness etched into his face.

"I heard that security consultant dropped by. What does he want?" His deep voice carried a note of concern, though he masked it well.

You rose from your seat instinctively, bowing respectfully before gesturing for him to sit. "Yes, well…" you hesitated, your lips pressing into a thin line. "He wants the same thing he wanted from you. Seems his attention has shifted to me now."

The elderly man sank into the chair across from you, his brow furrowing as he absorbed your words. For a moment, he was silent, his calculating mind undoubtedly piecing together the implications of Yunho's renewed interest. "Well?" he finally asked, his voice calm but tinged with worry. "Did you agree to it?"

Your response came instantly, your head shaking as if on reflex. "Of course not, sir," you whispered fiercely. Taking such a risk was unthinkable, the potential consequences far too dire. One misstep would endanger not only yourself but your family—and his. The asylum's unrelenting grip on your lives was an invisible shackle neither of you could escape.

Ivanov's shoulders relaxed slightly, though the tension lingered in his eyes. He glanced at your hands, clenched into tight fists on the desk, a habit that betrayed the memories threatening to surface—memories that haunted you both.

"You made the right decision," he said softly, though his words felt like cold comfort. "But you know he'll come back."

"I know," you murmured, lowering your gaze. Your voice was thick with frustration, the weight of fear pressing against your chest.

Your mind drifted, unbidden, to the beginning of this nightmare, the memories as vivid as if they had just occurred. You'd been fresh out of university then, brimming with ambition and armed with a psychology degree you'd worked tirelessly to earn. Interning under Dr Ivanov had been transformative—he had seen potential in you that no one else had, vowing to guide you through your career. When the offer from Prestige Asylum came, it had seemed like a dream.

The facility's reputation was impeccable, a beacon of excellence in mental health care. It felt like winning the lottery, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity you couldn't afford to pass up. The secrecy surrounding the institution's operations hadn't raised alarms; instead, it only added to the mystique. You felt honoured to stand beside him, your combined reputation a testament to integrity and expertise.

But cracks in the perfect facade had shown themselves quickly. The work was unlike anything you'd experienced before, the protocols unsettling and alien. Patients were scarce, their places filled by high-profile criminals hidden under the guise of treatment. The truth unravelled slowly, then all at once—a grotesque revelation that had left you and your mentor reeling in horror.

You'd both tried to leave, submitting your resignations in tandem, naively believing that principles would protect you. That illusion was shattered the moment you were summoned to meet Ryoichi Sato.

The Chairman's demeanour was calm, almost cordial, as he laid out file after file. Each one contained intimate details of your family's lives—names, addresses, routines—all laid bare as leverage. His cruel smile and carefully chosen words crushed any hope of escape. "You're the best," he had said, his tone almost mocking. "Your reputations are what make this place believable. Why would I let you go when you're perfect for the role?"

Since that day, you had been trapped, your skills and moral standing weaponised to mask the institution's sinister purpose. You'd learned to live with the ever-present fear, not for yourself but for the people you loved. Even if you somehow escaped, you knew Prestige Asylum's reach would follow you.

You glanced at Dr Ivanov now, his tired eyes reflecting your own. The two of you were bound together by this shared nightmare, captives in a gilded cage. Yet, his presence was an anchor in the storm, a steadying force. He was more than a mentor now—he was family, the closest thing to a father you had in this twisted place.

For a fleeting moment, your resolve wavered. Yunho's words echoed faintly, offering an out, a faint glimmer of hope. But hope was dangerous here, fragile and easily crushed. The elderly man's steady presence reminded you why impulsive action wasn't an option. The risk was too great, the cost too unthinkable.

For them. The mantra steadied you, as it did every day. It was why you stayed, why you endured the suffocating walls of this asylum. For the people waiting for you on the outside, for the faint possibility that one day this nightmare might end. Until then, all you could do was hold the line and navigate the razor-thin path laid before you.

Your mentor checked his watch, the faint lines on his face deepening with a sigh. "I have to get back to my post now," he said, rising from his seat with a heavy air. "But if that Stefano man ever bothers you again, let me know—"

You smiled softly, cutting him off. "Don't worry, sir. I'll know how to handle him. He won't sway me." Your voice was calm but firm, a quiet reassurance you hoped would ease his concerns.

Still, the weight of Yunho's visit lingered in your mind, the mystery of his identity gnawing at the edges of your resolve. "Besides," you added, your tone growing more contemplative, "we don't even know who he really is or who he works for. A big part of me hopes whatever he's planning works out... but I know it's in our best interests to stay uninvolved. Sato's connections make him far too powerful. I doubt one organisation alone could bring him down."

Dr Ivanov studied you for a moment, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. He nodded, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "You're right. I'm more reassured now, knowing you've thought this through so carefully. Stay safe, my dear."

"Thank you, sir. You too," you said quietly, bowing your head as you rose to escort him out.

At the door, the elderly man turned back to you, his expression briefly softening. "I will. We'll be okay," he murmured, his voice laced with the kind of warmth and care that reminded you of all the reasons you trusted him so deeply.

As the door clicked shut behind him, you stood in the quiet of your office, the lingering echoes of his presence both a comfort and a reminder of the precarious line you walked. Your gaze drifted to the sterile walls around you, the faint hum of the asylum's machinery a backdrop to your thoughts.

Stay uninvolved. The words repeated themselves in your mind, a steady mantra to counter the flicker of temptation Stefano Lee's offer had planted. Whatever freedom he hinted at wasn't worth the risk—not when the stakes were this high, not when so many lives were intertwined with your own.

With a deep breath, you returned to your desk, steeling yourself once more. In a place like this, where trust was a rarity and survival meant walking on a knife's edge, resolve was the only armour you had.

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"Good morning, Dr Prude."

You sighed, the sound of his voice confirming what you already knew without needing to glance to your left. Of course, it was him—the persistent, tall, and infuriatingly handsome man who seemed to make it his mission to pester you.

"The more you call me that, the quicker you'll lose whatever slim chances you think you have," you replied, your tone sharp but laced with subtle amusement.

He smirked, nudging your shoulder lightly with his. "Ah, so you're admitting I might've had a chance otherwise?" he teased, his words carrying that familiar mix of charm and mischief.

You raised a brow, feigning indifference while suppressing the flicker of amusement threatening to surface. For a brief moment, your thoughts wandered. Under different circumstances—if you were just an ordinary psychologist and he, an ordinary man—things might have been different. You might have seen him as a potential partner, someone worth taking a chance on.

But the moment passed quickly, and you blinked away the dangerous line of thought, locking it down as you focused ahead. Damn him for being so charming. No, you reminded yourself firmly, he wasn't going to rattle you. Not now, not ever.

Letting your guard snap back into place, you shifted direction abruptly, veering deeper into the hallways where the more intensive care patients were held. "You're wasting your time, Mr. Lee. Go bother someone else. I can't help you."

He exhaled in what sounded like momentary defeat, watching as you strode off with the same confidence you always carried. But even as you walked away, his gaze lingered, catching the briefest flicker in your eyes—something unguarded, something vulnerable. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but it was enough to spark a quiet curiosity within him.

The Enforcer knew it wasn't his business, and it certainly wasn't part of his mission. Yet something about you gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, compelling him to want to know more. There was a strength about you that was undeniable, but it felt... manufactured, like a mask you wore too well.

It was as if you were holding yourself back, tethered to something invisible yet suffocating, something that bound you so tightly it stopped you from moving freely. Yunho didn't know what it was, but the thought of it bothered him. Whatever it was that weighed you down, it wasn't just your burden to bear. At least, not if he had anything to say about it.

Wait... why did he even care so much? He paused, forcing himself to refocus on the mission. That was the only reason he was here—to make use of you, to get you on his side. Yet, there was something about you that unsettled his resolve, something beyond your sharp remarks and unwavering confidence that he couldn’t ignore.

It wasn't just attraction, though he couldn't deny how drawn he was to your competence. If there was one thing he admired in a woman, it was the ability to hold her own, and you had that in spades. You carried yourself with a strength that demanded respect, but it wasn't just the surface that intrigued him. Beneath the polished exterior, there was something raw, something real.

It reminded him of himself—not the man he was now, but the boy he used to be. The boy who had once cowered in the shadow of fear, trapped in a home that offered no love, only control and pain. He had known what it was like to feel bound by circumstances, to see no way out—until the Captain of the Black Pirates found him and gave him a second chance at life. Seeing you now was like looking into a mirror of his past. You were afraid—he could sense it, even if you hid it well. But afraid of what? That question clawed at him, sparking a need to understand you better.

Of course, he told himself, this curiosity wasn't personal. No, it would only serve his mission. Learning more about you would help him coax you into cooperation. That's all it was. This was about ensuring the success of his assignment, about proving Hongjoong's faith in him wasn't misplaced. He couldn't afford to get sidetracked—not with the stakes so high.

And besides, he thought with a faint smirk, he couldn't let Mingi have the satisfaction of questioning his ability to get the job done. No, Yunho would handle this—and you—exactly as planned. Or at least, that's what he kept telling himself.

Yes, this is all for the mission.

Stepping into the intensive care unit, any thoughts of Stefano Lee were thrown out the window as you tightened your grip on your composure, your expression a carefully crafted mask despite the wild, unrelenting thrum of your heartbeat. It wasn't the work itself that unnerved you—far from it. Caring for those in need had once been your passion, the foundation of your dreams. But here, in this place, the people you were forced to deal with weren't patients in any sense of the word. They were predators masquerading as something else, wolves dressed in the clothing of the vulnerable.

"Mr. Zhou has specifically asked for you today, Doctor," the nurse in charge informed you, her tone indifferent as she handed over a clipboard you had no choice but to accept.

Of course, he had.

Zhou was among the most vile of them all—a man who thrived on the suffering of others, the mastermind of a sprawling human trafficking network. And yet, he had decided that you were to be his source of amusement. It wasn't hard to see why; you were nothing like the other women here, those who simpered and flattered him in a desperate bid to curry favour. No, your quiet defiance, your refusal to play his games, seemed to intrigue him in ways that made your skin crawl.

You hated him. More than anyone else in this twisted facility. Others dealt in drugs or gambling—abhorrent crimes, yes, but nothing compared to Zhou's grotesque trade of innocence and humanity. To you, he was the embodiment of everything that was wrong with this place, and being near him felt like willingly stepping into quicksand.

But Zhou wasn't just another criminal. He was one of Sato's prized 'patients,' his wealth ensuring a status that made him untouchable. "He's a high-paying customer," the Chairman had said, his voice dripping with disdain as he slid a photograph across his desk—one of your parents, their unsuspecting smiles now burned into your memory. "We can't afford to lose his business. Do us all a favour and keep him happy. After all, you have a family to think about, don't you? Wouldn't want anything to happen to your sweet parents."

The helplessness of that moment still clawed at you, the suffocating sense of being trapped. All you'd been able to do was nod and whisper, "Yes, sir," as your nails bit into your palms, drawing blood you hadn't even felt at the time.

Now, that same photo flashed in your mind as you clutched the clipboard with trembling hands, forcing yourself to walk toward Zhou's ward. Each step felt like another inch toward a gaping abyss, yet you kept moving. The whispers and judgemental stares of your colleagues barely registered—what did their scorn matter when the stakes were this high? Let them call you 'Dr Prude.' Let them roll their eyes and mock your cold demeanour. None of it could compare to the suffocating weight of the threat hanging over your family.

"There you are, my darling!"

The voice, sickly sweet and dripping with false affection, sent a chill coursing through your body. You swallowed hard, the lump in your throat almost choking you, before forcing your lips into a polite smile. "Good morning, Mr. Zhou," you said evenly, the calmness in your voice hiding the storm of despair and disgust that churned within.

You couldn't falter now—not when every move you made was a performance for survival.

You stepped into his ward, clutching the clipboard so tightly to your chest that your knuckles turned white. It was a flimsy barrier, but it was all you had against the man sprawled in his cushioned chair, exuding an air of unearned power. His hospital gown, clean and unassuming, was a cruel mockery of the monster you knew he was.

"Ah, my favourite doctor," Zhou greeted, his voice syrupy with mock warmth that sent a chill racing up your spine. He leaned back leisurely, his sharp eyes sliding over you like a knife against skin. "What a lovely sight first thing in the morning."

You forced a polite smile, though your throat tightened painfully. Every instinct screamed at you to run, but that was not an option. Not here. Not with him.

He gestured to the chair across from him, a smirk pulling at his lips. "Come, sit. Let's chat before we get into all those boring tests you insist on."

You took a step closer but stayed standing, your spine stiff with an invisible armour you hoped wouldn't crack. "Thank you, Mr. Zhou, but I'd prefer to get this done quickly. I'm sure you have more important matters to tend to," you said, your tone firm yet careful.

He chuckled—a low, deliberate sound that made your stomach twist. "Important matters? None more important than you, Doctor. In fact—" His smirk widened, and he patted his lap with mock invitation. "Why don't you sit here? We could get much closer that way."

The air seemed to thin as his words settled between you. Your nails dug into the clipboard, anchoring yourself as your mind raced. You couldn't let him see your terror, couldn't let him sense the way your heart thundered wildly against your ribs. The Chairman's words replayed in your mind like a sinister mantra: Don't offend him.

Keeping your mask intact, you summoned a professional smile that felt like glass ready to shatter. "That's very kind of you, Mr. Zhou, but I'll have to decline. Maintaining the proper distance helps ensure I do my job effectively. I'm sure you understand."

His smirk faltered for a fraction of a second before returning, sharper this time. He leaned back, his gaze cutting through you like a blade. "Always so professional," he mused, his voice dripping with mockery. "That's why I enjoy our time together. The chase makes it all the more satisfying."

The bile rising in your throat threatened to choke you, but you pushed it down and turned your focus to the clipboard, setting it on the table beside him. With painstaking precision, you prepared the syringe, your hands trembling ever so slightly despite your effort to steady them.

As you approached him, Zhou tilted his head, his lips curling into a twisted smile. "You know, Doctor," he drawled, his voice laced with faux sweetness, "if you'd just relax, we could have so much fun together. Don't you ever get tired of being so... rigid?"

Your pulse roared in your ears, but you forced an even tone. "I appreciate your concern, Mr. Zhou," you said softly, looping the tourniquet around his arm with methodical care. "But my focus is on ensuring your health and well-being. I take that responsibility very seriously."

His chuckle was slow and ominous, the sound of a predator circling prey. His narrowed eyes glinted with something dark as he watched you lean in to draw his blood. "You're a tough one, aren't you?” he murmured, his voice dipping lower. "I like that. But you know... everyone breaks eventually."

Before you could process his words, his arm shot out, the syringe slipping from your grasp as a gasp escaped your lips. In one swift motion, he wrapped his arm around your waist and yanked you onto his lap, his grip iron-tight.

"Come on, darling," he whispered, his breath brushing against your ear as his tone turned sickeningly sweet. "How much longer are you going to play hard to get, hm?"

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For the first time in what felt like years, Yunho's mask of calm nearly cracked. He stood frozen at the gap in the door, his breath catching as he registered the scene before him. This wasn't what he had expected when he decided to drop by and observe you at work—hoping to glean insights about your habits, preferences, and perhaps the best way to approach you.

But this?

This was a nightmare come to life.

His fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, the rage coursing through him threatening to spill over. It was all he could do to keep his breathing steady. The sight of you, trapped in Zhou's grasp, was a brutal reminder of the powerlessness he once endured. It dredged up memories he thought he had buried—moments when he, too, had been forced to endure, unable to fight back, unable to say no. But while his pain had been physical, yours was a violation of an entirely different kind.

This wasn't just wrong; it was unforgivable.

The injustice of it all burned in his chest, but the Enforcer swallowed the fury. Letting his emotions take over now would do neither of you any good. He needed to act, but carefully. With a steadying breath, he placed a hand on the door handle, forcing a bright, innocent smile onto his face.

Pushing the door open, he stepped inside, his voice casual and warm, masking the storm within. "Hey, doc, I hope I'm not interrupting, but I—" He paused mid-sentence, pretending to notice the scene before him for the first time. His performance was flawless, his jaw dropping in mock surprise as his eyes widened.

"Jesus Christ!" he exclaimed, striding forward with just the right mix of alarm and authority. "What the hell is going on in here?!"

In one fluid motion, he crossed the room and reached for you, prying you free from Zhou's grip with a practised ease. You stumbled into him, trembling, your tear-filled eyes locking onto his face. If you weren't so shaken, you might have seen through his act, might have caught the cold fury simmering beneath his polished facade. But in that moment, all you could feel was the safety his presence suddenly offered.

Zhou shot up from his seat, his narrowed eyes blazing with irritation. "Who the hell do you think you are, barging in here?" he growled, his tone laced with barely contained anger.

Yunho ignored him entirely, his focus solely on you. "Are you okay?" he asked, his voice soft but loud enough for the Chinese bastard to hear. He placed himself firmly between you and the criminal, his broad frame shielding you. "Did the patient get out of control? This is exactly what I warned about—no security for the psychologists? It's unacceptable!" His tone carried a sharp edge, each word a carefully veiled reminder to Zhou that, here, he was just a patient. Nothing more.

Zhou's jaw tightened, recognition dawning in his eyes. He knew exactly who Yunho was—everyone did. The new security consultant hired to oversee operations, though none of the real players dared to let him in on the darker truths of the facility. The man was an outsider, and Zhou knew better than to draw unnecessary attention to himself now.

"I-I'm fine, Mr. Lee," you managed, your voice trembling despite your best efforts to sound composed. Your hand gripped Yunho's wrist as if it were a lifeline, grounding yourself through the chaos. "Mr. Zhou just... has his episodes, but he's harmless."

Zhou's smirk returned, though it was thinner now, less certain. The irritation in his eyes was clear as he reached for the nurse call button, signalling for someone to remove this 'disruption.' For all his arrogance, he knew better than to risk crossing a line in front of the taller man.

Yunho glanced back at you, his eyes softening for just a moment before returning to Zhou, cold and unyielding. "Episodes or not, no one should have to deal with this alone," he said firmly. "I'll make sure the Chairman hears about this."

His words were a warning, a subtle reminder that Zhou wasn't untouchable. And for the first time in that suffocating ward, you felt like someone was truly in your corner.

You didn't wait for the nurse to arrive. The moment the Enforcer had diverted Zhou's attention, you made a swift exit, clutching the clipboard to your chest like a shield. The stark, sterile hallways blurred as your legs carried you on autopilot, adrenaline coursing through your veins. You didn't stop until you reached the safety of your small office, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it with trembling hands.

Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps as you leaned against the door, the clipboard slipping from your grasp and clattering to the floor. Shoulders quaking with silent sobs, you bit down hard on your lip to stifle any sound. You couldn't afford to break here—not now.

The knock came so suddenly that you flinched, a small gasp escaping your lips.

"Hey," Stefano Lee's voice called through the door, calm yet resolute. "Open up."

Your pulse spiked again, panic flaring anew. The last thing you wanted was to face him—not like this, with tear-streaked cheeks and shattered composure.

"I'm fine," you managed to call back, though your voice trembled, betraying your facade.

"I'm not going anywhere until you let me in," he replied firmly, though a thread of unrelenting patience was woven into his tone.

For a moment, you hesitated, your hand hovering over the lock. Maybe if you stayed silent, he'd give up. But deep down, you knew better. With a reluctant sigh, you undid the lock and cracked the door open just enough for him to see you.

His expression softened instantly. "Can I come in?" he asked gently.

You nodded, stepping aside to let him in. His presence wasn't going to change anything—you wouldn't let it—but at least you could hear him out. That much you owed him. He closed the door softly behind him, leaning back against it as his eyes swept over you in silence. Arms crossed, his gaze—once so warm—was now edged with an intensity that made you shrink under its weight.

"What the hell was that back there?" he asked finally, his voice low but laced with restrained anger. "Why didn't you stop him? Or report him? You can't let him get away with treating you like that."

You turned away, busying yourself with the scattered papers on your desk. "It's not that simple," you murmured, your voice barely audible.

"Not that simple?" His voice rose slightly, tinged with disbelief. "You're a doctor. You shouldn't have to—"

"I can't," you snapped, spinning around to face him. Tears welled in your eyes, finally breaking free as your voice cracked under the pressure. "You don't understand."

"Then help me understand," he urged, his tone softening as he took a step closer. "Explain it to me."

You shook your head, arms wrapping tightly around yourself as if to hold your crumbling composure together. "Some people don't have a choice," you whispered, the words dripping with quiet despair. "Some of us... we're here because we have to be."

Yunho froze, the weight of your words sinking in as realisation dawned. Now it made sense—the resilience in your eyes despite the exhaustion, the quiet compliance in a place that didn't deserve you. The depths of this place's corruption ran deeper than he'd thought. "What do you mean?" he pressed, though his voice was quieter now.

You didn't answer directly. Instead, your tearful gaze met his, pleading silently for him to drop the matter. "Please," you whispered, your voice shaking. "Don't get involved. Just stay out of my business. And leave me and my mentor out of yours."

His jaw clenched, his fists curling tightly at his sides as he wrestled with the storm of emotions brewing inside him. He wanted to demand answers, to tell you no one should live like this, but the raw fear in your expression stopped him cold.

He took a deep breath, forcing himself to relax. "Fine," he said, his voice even but tinged with steel. "But I want you to know I'm not letting this go."

Your head shot up, alarm flashing in your eyes. "No," you said firmly, stepping toward him. "You have to. If you do anything, they'll—"

"I won't do anything reckless," he interrupted, his tone steady and measured. "I won't let anything happen to you or your mentor. But this?" He gestured vaguely around the room, his voice dropping to a whisper. "This isn't right. And I need you to know that what you've told me has only strengthened my resolve to infiltrate this place. Listen to me—what we're doing is to bring this place down."

You stared at him, torn between the flicker of hope his words ignited and the harsh reality you'd been enduring for so long. Slowly, you shook your head, tears slipping down your face. "You don't understand... Stefano," you whispered, the name barely audible.

He paused, his expression softening for the briefest moment. "Yunho," he corrected gently, his voice low. Your eyes widened slightly at the revelation, and he continued, "My name is Yunho. And I want you to know that what I'm offering you is a way out."

You exhaled shakily, closing your eyes for a moment as his words hung heavy in the air. You knew false hope when you saw it, and you didn't want someone like him to be crushed by the weight of his own naivety. You didn't know who he really was or who he worked for, but the way he had defended you spoke volumes about his character. He wasn't like the others here. "Okay, Yunho..." you murmured softly, your voice tinged with weary resignation. "But I need you to know that you won't succeed. There's more to this place than you could ever imagine. Trust me when I say you're only going to make things worse—for yourself and for your team."

He opened his mouth, ready to argue, but the anguish in your eyes stopped him cold. The pain etched across your face was enough to silence any retort. He nodded once, his expression shifting to one of quiet determination. "I understand that nothing I say will change your mind right now," he said firmly. "I'll step back for now. But I'm not giving up on you. Just... remember that."

Without waiting for a response, he turned and walked out, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. The silence that followed was deafening. Slowly, you sank into your chair, burying your face in your hands as the full weight of everything came crashing down, pressing heavily on your chest.

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"Here's what you asked for," the Phantom said, tossing the files labelled with your name onto Yunho's desk. His gaze was sharp, unwavering. "I hope you haven't forgotten your main objective, because ever since meeting her, it almost feels like you have."

Yunho exhaled a slow breath, reaching for the file and flipping it open without hesitation. "Thanks, Yeo. I know you're worried, but trust me—once I convince her, she'll be a huge asset to us."

"When you convince her?" Yeosang challenged, leaning forward over the desk, eyes narrowing. "And when exactly is that supposed to happen, Yunho?"

The Enforcer rubbed his temple, exhaustion creeping into his voice. "Soon, my brother. I have no intention of letting Hongjoong hyung down—just as much as you. I know I've strayed from the original plan, but I'll set things right… with her help. And for the record, she won't be a distraction."

Yeosang let out a quiet sigh, his expression unreadable. He didn't argue further, merely giving a slow, reluctant nod before turning to leave. Just as he reached the door, he muttered under his breath, "I think she already has."

Yunho leaned back in his chair as soon as his brother was gone, flipping through the file with practised ease. His sharp eyes scanned the neatly typed lines, but it wasn't the information that initially caught his attention—it was your photo.

A small, inexplicable smile tugged at his lips as he studied the image. It was you, younger and unburdened, a spark of passion gleaming in your eyes. The confidence was the same, but there was something different—something brighter. This version of you radiated ambition, the kind of fire that belonged to someone ready to take on the world. It was almost unsettling to compare it to the person he had come to know.

The you he now knew still carried confidence, but it was subdued, weighed down by something invisible yet undeniably heavy. Behind your carefully composed exterior, there was exhaustion, an ever-present weariness hidden beneath layers of restraint. He had noticed it before but never thought much of it—until now.

Flipping through the pages, he absorbed everything. Your education, your qualifications—he committed them to memory effortlessly, piecing together an image of who you had been before joining Prestige. He could almost see it: you, bent over textbooks, scribbling down notes, fueled by a dream to make a difference.

His gaze lingered on the section about your family. Supportive parents, a stable upbringing—something he himself never had. A mentor who had guided you toward success. Yunho exhaled quietly. He was glad you had people who cared for you, yet the more he read, the more things didn't add up.

Then he found it. The moment you and Dr Sergei Ivanov had been recruited into Prestige Asylum. Everything seemed normal at first—until it wasn't. Not long after joining, the both of you had attempted to resign. Yunho's brows furrowed as he skimmed ahead, expecting to find an explanation. But there was nothing.

The resignation had never gone through.

Instead, both of you have continued working at the wretched institution up to the present day. That alone wasn't what unsettled him most—it was the fact that from the moment of that failed resignation, neither of you had seen your families since.

Yunho's jaw tightened. He didn't need to see the missing details to guess what had happened. He had seen this before, in different forms, under different circumstances. Prestige Asylum had buried the truth, manipulated the narrative. He had no doubt that whatever had taken place was the reason for the exhaustion in your eyes, the anxiety lurking beneath your composed demeanour.

But what exactly had happened?

He closed the file, fingers tapping against the cover in thought. He could make assumptions, but assumptions weren't enough. He needed confirmation. He needed the truth. And now, it seemed like you were the only one who could give it to him.

But it won't be easy.

Yunho had expected many things. He had expected frustration, dead ends, and the constant need to reassess his approach. What he hadn't expected, however, was for you to be the one to break first.

After your last conversation, he had made the difficult decision to leave you alone, to respect your plea and to keep his distance. Keeping Yeosang's words in mind, he had thrown himself back into his task, digging for evidence the Black Pirates could use to expose Prestige Asylum for what it truly was. But time and time again, he met disappointment. The asylum was airtight, designed to keep outsiders from uncovering its secrets. Despite his best efforts under his security consultant cover, all he had managed to gather were fragments—not nearly enough to bring Ryoichi Sato down. If only you had chosen to help him, he could have made real progress.

But he remembered the desperation in your voice when you had begged him to leave you and your mentor alone. And despite his own firm words, he waged an internal war, wondering if he should do as you asked. If leaving you alone was truly the right thing to do.

Unbeknownst to him, his absence had unsettled you more than you cared to admit. Even though you had been the one to ask him to stay away, you had found yourself watching him as he worked, seeing the way his frustration grew at the lack of progress. You saw the way his shoulders tensed as he left the asylum each day, his patience wearing thin.

His words echoed in your mind, refusing to be silenced.

"I'm not asking you to betray anyone. I'm asking you to work with us. Help us take down the Chairman, and in return, we'll make sure you come out of this unscathed."

At the time, the idea of helping him had seemed foolish, reckless even. But after your recent encounter with Zhou, you feared things were only going to get worse. Had it not been for Yunho, you didn't even want to think about what could have happened. Staying here and obeying orders guaranteed your family's safety for now, but Sato was a snake—who was to say he wouldn't turn on you and Dr Ivanov the moment you became disposable?

The thought of aiding Yunho in taking Prestige down had once seemed ridiculous. But what if it was your only chance at freedom?

You had seen the way he had fought for you, the way he had looked at you—not with pity, but with anger on your behalf. It had changed something in you. He had finally given you his real name. And maybe that had been the final push you needed.

So now, here he was, sitting before you in your office as you carefully pushed the files toward him. Documents filled with fabricated diagnoses and records of transactions that proved what he had suspected all along—Prestige Asylum was a shield for the wealthy and corrupt, a place where justice was bought and buried.

He stared at the papers as disbelief settled in. "What's this?" he asked, his voice quieter than usual, laced with restrained shock.

You exhaled slowly, arms crossing over your chest as if to shield yourself from what you were about to do. "Evidence you've been trying to uncover all this time but couldn't. It's not enough to take the place down, but it's something. These contain information on the patients I was assigned, at least. There are more that I have yet—"

"Thank you."

His voice was firm yet sincere, cutting you off before you could finish. Your breath hitched slightly at the way he looked at you—no gloating, no smug satisfaction, just quiet gratitude. It was disarming.

You looked away, suddenly feeling exposed. "Don't thank me yet. This… this doesn't mean anything."

Yunho tilted his head slightly, studying you. "Does it really not?"

You bit the inside of your cheek. Maybe it did. Maybe it meant more than you were ready to admit.

You had convinced yourself that you were only doing this to return the favour, to repay the debt you felt you owed him after what he had done for you. But deep down, you knew it wasn't just that.

It was the way you had seen him struggle, the way he kept pushing forward despite how difficult it was. It was the way he had saved you without hesitation, how he had looked at you like you were more than just another cog in the machine of Prestige Asylum.

And maybe, just maybe, it was because, for the first time in a long time, you wanted to believe in something again.

He carefully gathered the files, his fingers ghosting over the pages before he met your gaze once more. "This is a start."

You nodded, still uncertain, still afraid. But for the first time, you weren't entirely unwilling.

And that was enough—for now.

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Time passed, though neither of you ever acknowledged the change.

There had been no formal agreement, no spoken confirmation, but it was there—a silent understanding that you and Yunho were now working together.

You continued your daily routine, performing your duties with the same composure as always, but now with a purpose beyond survival. Every session, every document, every exchange within the asylum was another opportunity to collect evidence. Yunho, on the other hand, went on with his investigations under the guise of Prestige Asylum's new security consultant, but his work had become more efficient, more precise—because now, he had an insider.

And you had finally learned everything about him.

"I'm the Enforcer of the Black Pirates."

That was all he had to say for you to immediately understand.

The Black Pirates were no ordinary syndicate. Their name alone sent ripples through the underworld, spoken of in hushed, wary tones by the high-profile criminals this institution harboured. Ruthless, strategic, and feared, they had built a reputation as one of the most formidable forces in the underground.

At least, until recently.

Rumours had spread through the asylum—criminals whispering about the gang's latest struggles. They had become the newest target of the up-and-coming White Serpents, a rising syndicate that had been making waves with their brutal and unpredictable tactics. It wasn't just idle gossip; even Sato had taken notice.

If only these criminals, if only Ryoichi Sato himself, knew that one of the Black Pirates was now walking among them, quietly dismantling their precious asylum from the inside. You wondered if they would still be so smug.

Knowing who Yunho truly was brought you an odd sense of reassurance. It wasn't that you trusted him completely—not yet—but his reputation spoke for itself. If he had come this far, if his people had been able to shake even the strongest criminal empires, then perhaps—just perhaps—he could pull this off.

But there was still a risk.

You knew what would happen if the Chairman discovered your betrayal. Prestige did not tolerate disloyalty. You had seen firsthand what happened to those who had outlived their usefulness, to those who dared to resist. Even now, you and Dr Ivanov were still trapped in this place because of one failed attempt to leave.

And yet…

For the first time in years, your fate was in your own hands. You realised now that if you continued to stay put, this nightmare would never end. Sato would keep tightening his hold, keep pulling the strings, keep ensuring that neither you nor the head psychologist would ever see your families again.

Perhaps it was time to do something about it. For your family. For Dr Ivanov and his family. For yourself. And for the first time, that thought didn't terrify you. It gave you hope.

Hope.

A cruel, fragile thing.

It wavered in your chest as you stared down at the worn photograph in your hands, your parents' smiling faces frozen in time. You traced their features with your fingertips, your vision blurring with unshed tears. It had been so long since you'd seen them, so long since you had felt the warmth of home.

And now, you were about to write them another letter. Another carefully crafted lie. Another excuse about why you couldn't return home yet. Another attempt to reassure them that you were safe when, in reality, you had never felt more trapped.

Will this be the last time?

The thought lodged itself painfully in your mind. You wanted to believe it. You wanted to believe that this was the last time you'd have to lie to them, the last time you'd have to pretend that everything was fine, now that you had a plan—Yunho's plan.

But even as you forced yourself to write, exhaustion seeped into your bones, weighing heavier than ever. You were tired—so, so tired. Tired of pretending. Tired of surviving instead of living. Tired of never knowing if you would ever be free again.

The first tear fell before you could stop it.

Then another.

And soon, they wouldn't stop.

Goddamnit, where is she?

Yunho wandered through the dimly lit halls, searching for you. It had become routine—this quiet, unspoken agreement between you. Every evening before he left, he would find you, collect whatever evidence you had managed to obtain that day, exchange a few words, and then go on his way.

But today, your office was empty.

You had left him the files, as usual, stashed in the hidden corner you had designated in case you weren't around. Technically, he had no reason to linger. His job was done for the day.

And yet, something didn't sit right.

Your absence unsettled him in a way he couldn't explain. His mind raced with possibilities. What if something had happened to you? What if Zhou had gotten to you again? What if—

Shaking the thought away, he signalled for his driver to leave the compound, ensuring it looked as though he had left. Then, moving with the stealth he had long mastered, he slipped back inside. The unease gnawed at him as he searched.

You weren't with the patients. That, at least, was a relief.

Still, the asylum was vast, and the deeper he ventured, the heavier the silence became. It wasn't until he reached the abandoned wing that he finally found you. Sitting alone. Crying.

There you are.

His footsteps were nearly soundless as he approached, but somehow, you still sensed him. Your body tensed before you abruptly turned, raising a fist in pure reflex. He caught your wrist before you could strike, his grip firm but not forceful.

"Relax," he murmured gently, his voice softer than you expected. "It's me."

The tension in your muscles unravelled as you exhaled a shaky breath, turning away almost instantly. You wiped at your eyes in a futile attempt to erase the evidence of your tears, but you knew it was useless. He had already seen.

"Why are you still here?" you asked, your voice thick with emotion, your fingers tightening around the photograph in your lap.

Instead of answering right away, the man lowered himself beside you, close enough that his warmth pressed against the cool air of the abandoned wing. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, hands loosely intertwined.

"You weren't in your office, and I... just wanted to make sure you were alright," he whispered.

A lump formed in your throat at his sincerity. You sniffled, rubbing at your nose as you tried to keep your voice steady. "I'm fine."

He let out a quiet, disbelieving chuckle, shaking his head. "Are you, though?"

You didn't respond. You didn't have to.

The silence that followed wasn't uncomfortable. It lingered, heavy but strangely grounding.

Your gaze dropped to the photograph still trembling in your hands. He followed your line of sight, his eyes softening as he took in the faded edges, the familiar smiles frozen in time. After a beat, he dared to ask, "Your parents? Are they… safe?"

You hesitated before giving a small nod. But there was no relief in your expression, no weight lifted from your shoulders. "They are… for now." Your voice was quiet, almost fragile. "So long as I stay here like a good dog, they will be."

His breath hitched almost imperceptibly, but you caught it.

That was all he needed to hear.

His jaw tightened, fingers curling into fists against his thighs. He had suspected you were trapped here, but now, he understood just how deep the chains ran. The safety of your loved ones bound you to this place. And somehow, that realisation cut deeper than he expected.

Yunho had seen people held captive in many ways before—by fear, by greed, by debt, by loyalty. But this? This was different.

Because it was you.

The quiet between you stretched, but neither of you felt the need to fill it. Instead, he slowly, cautiously, let his fingers relax. Then, without thinking, he reached out—not forcefully, not expectantly, but just enough for his knuckles to brush against yours where they still clutched the photograph.

A silent offer. A quiet anchor.

You didn't pull away. For the first time, you let the warmth of his presence seep into the cracks of your exhaustion.

The Enforcer's resolve solidified.

Prestige Asylum had to fall. Not just for his mission. Not just for the Black Pirates. But for you.

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As your quiet alliance with Yunho deepened, it was only a matter of time before your mentor noticed.

Dr Ivanov had always been observant. Each evening, he watched with furrowed brows as Stefano Lee left your office before departing the compound. It had happened too many times now to be a coincidence. The Russian psychologist had been aware that the so-called security consultant wasn't who he claimed to be, but now a more pressing concern took root.

Was he coercing you into helping him? Was he threatening you?

The thought weighed on him until he finally decided to confront you. He waited until he was sure the taller man was gone, then made his way to your office, knocking firmly before pushing the door open at your soft "Come in." But the moment he heard your next words, he knew. He had been wrong.

"Back so soon? Did you forget something again?"

Your words faltered when your eyes lifted to meet his as realisation struck—this wasn't the charming gang member. It was your mentor. And in that single second, Ivanov saw it in your face. You had been willingly meeting with the man.

A long sigh left the elderly man as he stepped inside. "So, you gave in?"

You quickly rose from your seat, bowing your head slightly. "Sir, I can explain."

And you did. You told him everything—how Yunho had saved you, the truth about who he really was, and the fact that he wasn't just any gang member, but the Enforcer of the Black Pirates. Throughout it all, Ivanov listened in silence, his expression unreadable. But as you spoke, something in your voice softened. You reassured him that Yunho wasn't like the criminals you both dealt with every day.

He wasn't like them.

"His real name is—"

"No." His firm response stopped you short, and for a moment, your heart sank. But then, he surprised you. His lips quirked into the smallest of smiles.

"He entrusted you with his name, not me," the head psychologist murmured. "Protect it the way he protected you."

The tension in your shoulders eased. That was all you needed to know. Your mentor understood. Without another word, he took the seat across from you, silently offering his support. And for the first time in what felt like forever, you weren't alone in this.

"I will, sir."

Back at the Black Pirates' mansion, Yunho strode down the dimly lit corridors, heading for his room after leaving the day's evidence with the Captain. Just as he reached for the doorknob, his fingers brushed against something small in his pocket.

Frowning, he pulled it out—and a quiet chuckle slipped past his lips.

A candy.

The memory resurfaced immediately.

Earlier that day, his gaze had drifted to the glass bowl of sweets on your desk. "You know," he mused with amusement, "it almost feels like the amount never lessens. Who are these even for, doc?"

You smirked, leaning back in your chair as you plucked one up. "They're for patients I like. But… as you can see, there aren't many I'm capable of liking here. Or even at all." The smirk didn't last. Reality had a way of dimming those small flickers of humour.

Before you could react, he swiped the candy from your hand, his fingers grazing yours for the briefest second. Your breath hitched. "Wha—"

"I may not be a patient," he grinned, tucking it into his pocket, "but I can be your favourite."

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. "You wish." His smile lingered as he turned away, the candy now his.

"Oh, great. Not you too."

A deep voice pulled him from his thoughts. He pushed the candy back into his pocket and turned to face the source.

Song Mingi.

The Firestarter leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. Yunho's expression darkened. He had grown tired of the man's recent jabs, the barely veiled resentment in his voice. "Enough, Mingi," he said, voice low and cutting. "Let's not be hypocrites."

Mingi stiffened slightly as his best friend took a step forward. "Don't start this bullshit unless you can clean up your own mess and cut off your new lady friend too." His smirk faded.

"Everyone here is doing their best," the Enforcer continued. "And if you have nothing to contribute except complaints, shut up. We all know you're in the same damn shoes. No one calls you out on it out of respect, so don't take that for granted. Don't take the anger of your own failure out on the rest of us."

Mingi's jaw tightened, but he didn't argue. With that, Yunho turned and disappeared into his room, the door slamming shut behind him.

Silence stretched between the remaining brothers. And for once, the Firestarter had nothing to say. Yunho knew you were never supposed to be part of his mission. But unlike his hyungs, he wasn't blind to reality. This wasn't a distraction. You weren't a distraction. His protectiveness over you wasn't a weakness—it was fuel. A reason to push harder, to move faster.

Because if he succeeded in bringing Prestige Asylum and Ryoichi Sato down, he wouldn't just be completing his mission.

He'd be setting you free.

And he would see that through, no matter what.

That determination only strengthened as he returned to the asylum the next day. This mission had always been about taking down Sato, about gathering enough evidence to expose Prestige for what it truly was. But now, as he walked through the cold, sterile halls, he knew his purpose had expanded. He wasn't just here for the mission anymore. He was here for you. And that purpose solidified when he saw you break.

It started with an uneasy feeling. You weren't in your office. That alone unsettled him. Even on difficult days, you always managed to be where you needed to be. But not today.

His gut twisted as he searched through the institution, his steps quick but calculated, ignoring the wary glances from passing staff. By the time he reached the more secluded wing of the building, a faint sound stopped him in his tracks.

A choked, muffled sob.

He followed the sound until he reached the door of the female washroom. Pushing it open, he stepped inside—and there you were.

Standing before the mirror, gripping the sink as if it were the only thing keeping you upright. Your white doctor's coat was discarded at the side. Your sleeves were pushed up, revealing fresh burns marring your arms—small, circular wounds that made his blood run cold. Yunho felt the breath leave his lungs.

Cigarette burns.

Yunho's breath stilled. His hands curled into fists, knuckles white with barely contained fury. He had fought and bled through enough hellish places to recognise the work of a sadist when he saw it—because once upon a time, he had been on the receiving end of that same cruelty. The scars on his own body were proof. And he didn't need to ask who had done this to you.

Zhou.

That fucking bastard.

The anger roared in his veins, an unrelenting storm demanding vengeance, but he forced it down—for now. Because this wasn't about him. This was about you. And right now, you didn't need revenge.

You needed someone.

He moved slowly, careful not to startle you. His reflection joined yours in the mirror, but you remained unmoving, lost in a world of pain he could only imagine. It wasn't until he was close enough that you finally spoke, your voice fragile and raw.

"I... I refused him again. And he was furious."

His chest tightened.

Without thinking, his fingers ghosted over your wrist, an instinctive need to comfort—but the moment you flinched, he stopped, his heart twisting as you whimpered, "No... don't look at me. I'm ashamed to face you... or anyone."

The Enforcer exhaled, his jaw tightening as he fought the ache in his throat. Ashamed? The thought of you—someone so strong, so resilient—believing you had something to be ashamed of made his blood run cold.

"And why should you be ashamed?" he asked softly.

Your voice broke. "Because I'm weak."

A pained smile tugged at the corner of his lips. A smile that held years of unspoken memories, buried wounds that had never fully healed. "Then I guess I am too."

Your blurry eyes lifted to meet his in the mirror, confusion flickering through your exhausted expression. Before you could ask, he quietly unbuttoned the first few buttons of his shirt.

Your breath hitched.

Faded scars marred his chest—old burns, some shaped like the ones on your arms, others deeper, more jagged. Wounds left by cruel hands, by people who should have protected him.

"I was once young and defenceless, beaten and abused by the people I called my parents, all because I was the product of an accident, an unplanned birth," he admitted, voice steady but heavy. "I spent my teenage years committing petty crimes, drifting through life aimlessly because I believed I didn't deserve any better. I thought I was ruined… so I accepted my fate."

You stared at him, your own pain momentarily forgotten as you listened.

"But my leader found me. He taught me that it wasn't my fault. That sometimes, no matter how strong we try to be, we need someone to pull us out of it. He was that person for me." He took a step closer, his voice softer now, but no less firm. "And now… I just want you to know that you don't have to be strong all the time."

You finally turned to face him fully.

"Let someone else carry the weight for once." His voice was a whisper now, but it reached you in ways nothing else had. "I'm here now."

Something inside you broke. For years, you had carried the weight of your suffering alone. You had built walls, convinced yourself that no one could—or would—save you. But standing here, with him, someone who knew what it was like to be trapped in suffering, who understood what it meant to survive…

The walls cracked.

A shaky breath left your lips, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him. And Yunho, without hesitation, held you up.

He didn't promise that things would be okay. He didn't tell you to be strong. He simply stayed, steady and unyielding, silently promising that, for once, you weren't alone. For the first time in years, you let someone share your burden. And for the first time in years, he let someone see the scars he no longer hid behind.

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"This won't do. The evidence we've been collecting—I fear it won't be enough to take Prestige down completely. Even if we leak it to the authorities, Sato and all his friends feigning mental illness here will find a way to twist the narrative. They'll deny everything until the very end," Yunho said, his voice low but resolute.

He sat across from you in your office, a familiar sight by now. Yet, something had changed ever since that day in the washroom. Neither of you had spoken about it, but it was there—in the way his visits stretched longer, in the way his touch lingered just a moment too long, in the way your gazes held more than just strategy.

Something unspoken lingered between you, but neither of you acknowledged it. Perhaps because you both knew the circumstances wouldn't allow for more. Nothing more than this.

You bit your lip, hesitating.

Now was the time.

For days, you had debated whether or not to tell him. At first, you had kept it to yourself for his safety, or maybe it was for your own. You weren't sure anymore. But when you had told him he didn't know the full extent of Sato's operations, you had meant it.

"I…" Your voice wavered. "I do have something. Something that could destroy this place completely if it gets out."

He leaned forward, his gaze sharpening. "But?"

Your fingers curled into fists. "I have no evidence, Yunho. Sato is incredibly careful, he—"

Without hesitation, he reached across the desk, covering your trembling hand with his. His warmth steadied you, grounding you in the moment.

"Don't worry about him or the evidence," he said, voice steady, reassuring. "That's what I'm here for. Just tell me. Tell me everything you know about this place."

You swallowed hard, the weight of your secrets pressing down on you. But then his grip tightened ever so slightly—an unspoken promise. "You trust me, right?" he asked, his voice softer now.

You met his gaze, the sincerity in his eyes dissolving the last bit of doubt within you.

"I do."

Thanks to your help, Yunho's gaze stayed locked on the Chairman's office later that night, perched like a throne atop the highest floor of the main building. The faint glow seeping through the curtains barely touched the darkness of the night, but it was enough. Somewhere in that room lay the final, undeniable proof to expose Sato—and tonight, he was going to get it.

Rolling his shoulders, he tugged on his gloves, loosening his tie before throwing Yeosang a nod. "I'll leave the Records Room to you."

The Phantom smirked, tightening the straps of his gear. "This little birdie of yours best not be lying."

Yunho's jaw flexed, the protectiveness in his tone sharp. "She's not."

His brother only shrugged, adjusting his weapons before melting into the shadows. "She better not be."

With a roll of his eyes, the Enforcer turned on his heel, striding toward the Chairman's office while Yeosang vanished over the fences with practised ease. He would scour the second-best place for evidence while Yunho infiltrated the most heavily guarded room in the entire asylum. And if the security around it was that tight, there had to be a damn good reason.

And thus, the grand mission began.

Organ harvesting.

That was the truth you had given him.

Prestige Asylum wasn't just a sanctuary for criminals—it was a slaughterhouse. Yunho had seen his fair share of horrors, had waded through the filth of the underworld more times than he could count. But this? This was something else. This was monstrous. The criminals who sought refuge here weren't just evaluated by their wealth and influence. They were examined. Categorised. Sorted like cattle. The weak, the old, the ones who had nothing left to offer? They were marked. Stripped of their dignity. Stripped of their parts.

Organs—harvested, sold, and shipped off to the highest bidder.

Sato wasn't just sheltering scum.

He was butchering them.

And Yunho felt no pity for these bastards—not when their own sins had led them here. But the sheer scale of it, the grotesque efficiency, the cold, methodical way human bodies were treated as nothing more than a product—it made his stomach churn with disgust he hadn't felt in years.

And yet, in all its horror, this was perfect.

Because this was the key to bringing it all down. With solid proof, it wouldn't just be the authorities coming for Ryoichi Sato. It would be his own people. The criminals who had thought they were safe, who had paid their way into this fortress of false security, would come to a sickening realisation. They were never guests. They were inventory.

And once the truth came out, Prestige wouldn't just fall.

It would burn.

"Wait, what are you going to do now?"

Your voice echoed in Yunho's mind as he moved silently through the shadows, each step deliberate, every muscle coiled with purpose. The asylum was still, save for the occasional flicker of a distant security light. His target was near, but for a fleeting moment, his thoughts strayed—to you.

Unlike his usual self, he didn't know why he did it, but he found himself pausing. Just for a second. Just long enough to glance down at the darkened window of your office. A faint smile tugged at his lips. Were you already asleep in your quarters? Would you be furious if you knew what he was doing now? He wondered how you'd react—if you'd scold him, if you'd worry, if you'd care.

Care about him the way he cared about you.

His heartbeat stuttered at the thought, at the memory of you grasping his arm before he could leave your office earlier that evening. The genuine concern in your eyes, the slight tremble in your voice—it had made something tighten in his chest.

You were worried for him.

For him.

He could still feel the warmth of your touch, the way his hand instinctively covered yours, his thumb brushing against your skin in silent reassurance. He shouldn't have lingered, but he did. And then, for some godforsaken reason, he had winked at you, teasing, "Don't worry about it, doc. You've done all you could, and for that, I thank you. I'll take care of the rest now."

You hadn't let go.

And for a moment—just a moment—the two of you had stood there, locked in a wordless exchange that spoke louder than anything either of you could say aloud. Then he had made the mistake of looking down.

Your lips.

His resolve had nearly crumbled. He had fought everything in him to tear his gaze away, forcing himself to meet your eyes again—eyes that were no longer guarded, no longer dismissive like when you first met. No, there was a fire in them now.

And god, he liked seeing that fire.

"You better, Jung Yunho."

He had nearly groaned at the way his name sounded coming from you, low and daring. He had bitten his lip, eyes dark with unspoken thoughts before murmuring, "I promise."

And then he left—because if he hadn't, he might have done something foolish.

Now, as he shook off the memory and refocused on his mission, he felt it. The fire in you had ignited something in him too. And no matter what happened tonight, he would keep his promise.

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Yunho moved like a shadow, slipping past guards who might as well have been mannequins for all the use they were. Years of training with the Phantom had honed him into a ghost, his presence undetectable, his steps soundless. If anyone so much as blinked at the wrong moment, they'd never know he had been there at all.

The Chairman's office loomed ahead, its grand double doors guarded by two men who stood with stiff professionalism. But the Enforcer had seen better security in cheap nightclubs. A well-timed distraction—a small device flicked across the hall, producing a distant clatter—was all it took for them to step away, momentarily distracted. That was his cue. He was inside within seconds.

And he almost laughed.

That was it? Just the usual lock-picking technique? The great Ryoichi Sato, mastermind of this entire operation, was brought down by a few turns of a pick? Yunho had expected retina scanners, biometric safes, maybe even a hidden security system, but this?

Pathetic.

Shaking off his disbelief, he got to work, rifling through drawers, scanning bookshelves, even running his hands along the edges of furniture for hidden compartments. He found a safe tucked behind an abstract painting and smirked.

This was the real challenge.

Except it wasn't.

A few code attempts later—birthdates, the asylum's founding year, a few numbers from the invoices he found—and the safe clicked open. His grin vanished the second he saw what was inside.

Gold bars. Stacks of cash. A few vaguely worded invoices.

Nothing useful.

Yunho inhaled sharply, a spark of frustration lighting in his chest. This wasn't enough. They needed something undeniable, something that would expose Sato for what he truly was—a butcher masquerading as a saviour. Not meaningless transactions.

He was running out of places to search. And time.

Just as he was about to leave and search elsewhere, his fingers brushed against something buried in one of the lower drawers. He pulled it out, his breath catching slightly. A photograph.

You, smiling with your parents.

His fingers curled tightly around it as he pulled out another one. Dr Ivanov, standing with his wife and child.

Fuckin' bastard.

A sharp surge of anger coursed through him, his grip on the photos tightening. He wanted to tear them apart, to destroy the reason you're trapped in this godforsaken place. But before he could act on the impulse, a soft knock echoed through the room.

He froze. His head whipped around, every muscle tensed, every sense heightened. Had he been caught? Had the guards finally realised something was wrong?

Then, he heard it—faint but familiar. "It's me. Find a way to open this secret passage. You're in for a surprise."

Yeosang.

Yunho exhaled sharply, his heartbeat steadying as he turned toward the sound. The bookshelf near the far wall shifted slightly, as if someone was pushing from the other side. A hidden passage?

Without wasting another second, he ran his hands along the wood, searching for a mechanism. It took a few tries—pressing at different spots, pulling at certain books—until finally, something clicked. The shelf groaned as it slowly swung open, revealing a dimly lit passageway.

And there stood the Phantom, arms crossed, an infuriatingly smug grin tugging at his lips. "Seems Dr Prude wasn't lying after all."

Yunho scoffed, stepping forward. "Told you so."

With that, the brothers disappeared into the darkness below. The taller man raised a brow as he stepped into the dimly lit chamber, taking in the scene before him.

The ground was littered with bodies—some unconscious, thanks to Yeosang, and others far beyond saving. The criminals who had foolishly sought refuge in Prestige lay sprawled on cold metal tables, their chests crudely opened, the sickly scent of antiseptic failing to mask the underlying stench of blood and decay. It was clear that mere minutes ago, this room had been alive with activity—surgeons slicing, nurses assisting, transactions being made in hushed voices—until the Phantom arrived and ended it all in an instant.

"Impressive," Yunho muttered, nudging one of the unconscious workers with his boot.

The Phantom shrugged as if it were nothing. "They weren't even that skilled. Hardly worth the effort." He turned his gaze toward the far end of the room, where a row of glass walls separated them from an adjoining chamber. "Was wandering through the last few rows of the Records Room until I found a similar opening that led to this place. Figured you'd be around here somewhere."

Yunho followed his brother's nod, his attention shifting past the bloodstained operating tables to the massive archive just beyond the glass. There. He didn't need Yeosang's smirk to confirm it. It was practically a gold mine. Without hesitation, he stepped inside, his eyes immediately drawn to the endless shelves lined with thick folders. He pulled one out at random, flipping it open, and the realisation hit like a punch to the gut.

Patient files.

No, not patients.

Criminals.

Sato's team of corrupt doctors had faked their deaths, using fabricated mental illnesses as a cover for their "decline." One by one, they were marked as deceased, their medical records doctored to remove suspicion. Their organs were harvested, sold on the black market, and their bodies discreetly disposed of like garbage.

And at the bottom of each profile—cold, clinical, and damning—was a final price. The total amount each body had been worth.

His grip tightened on the folder. This wasn't just a side hustle. This was the asylum's lifeblood. The money made from these transactions didn't just line Sato's pockets—it funded Prestige's continued expansion. Every new wing, every upgraded facility, every added layer of so-called security only made the place more untouchable, burying its corruption deeper beneath a facade of legitimacy.

This was how the Chairman had managed to build a kingdom on filth and blood. By monetising both the living and the dead. By making sure that even his customers—his supposed "guests"—were nothing more than assets waiting to be cashed in.

The Enforcer exhaled sharply, shoving the file back into place. This was it. This was everything they needed. "Time to report back," he said, turning to Yeosang.

His brother grinned, already moving toward the passage. "Hongjoong hyung's gonna have a field day with this."

Yunho glanced back at the bloodstained room one last time, his jaw tightening. Sato had built this empire on greed, corruption, and death. And now, they were going to tear it all down.

But before that, there was something else he needed to do. He had told the Phantom to head back first. It was reckless to linger after the stunt they had just pulled—if security caught wind of what happened before he was off the compound, everything could come crashing down on him. But he had to do this first.

Slipping back into Sato's office with practised stealth, he made sure to reseal the hidden passage before heading straight for the drawer. His fingers found the photos instantly. A picture of you with your parents. Another of Dr Ivanov with his family.

Yeosang had called it a stupid risk, but Yunho didn't care. Something in him refused to let Ryoichi Sato keep these. He hated the idea of that bastard having something so personal, so intimate, tucked away in his possession.

This was for you.

For the sake of his own heart.

Tucking the photos neatly into his pocket, he slipped out through a side window, moving like a shadow as he made his way toward your office. He knew you weren't there, but maybe he'd leave behind a little surprise for you to find in the morning.

Only, he didn't expect to hear his name whispered from behind.

"Yunho?"

He spun around instantly, eyes locking onto your figure. You stood there in casual clothes, a stark contrast to the formal attire he was so used to seeing you in. Why were you still up? Could you not sleep? You cradled a steaming mug in your hands—coffee, he presumed—but it was the expression on your face that caught him off guard.

Shock. Then alarm.

Your feet moved before your mind could catch up. You grabbed his arm, your grip firm, urgent. "What the hell are you doing here at this time of night, you idiot?" you whisper-yelled.

He grinned sheepishly and pulled the photos from his pocket, holding them up. "Came to return these to you."

Your heart clenched. He had risked everything to retrieve them.

Before you could even begin to process the implications, the thunder of footsteps echoed down the hall. The voices of guards grew louder—searching, calling out about an intruder.

Your pulse spiked. Without a second thought, you grabbed the man and yanked him inside your office, slamming the door shut behind you just as your better judgement screamed at you for doing so. "Fuck," you cursed under your breath, your mind racing.

He was already scanning the room, searching for an escape, but there was none. The only window was too small, useless.

"In there!" a guard shouted just outside.

Panic clawed at your chest.

No time.

Without hesitation, you cupped Yunho's face. His breath hitched, his body tensing at the sudden contact. Wide, startled eyes locked onto yours. If not for the urgency of the situation, you might have laughed at how adorably caught off guard he looked.

"Kiss me," you whispered.

For a split second, the world seemed to pause. Then, he understood.

His arms wrapped around your waist just as you crashed your lips against his, your heart hammering—not just from the approaching guards but from the way he responded so instantly, so intensely. He kissed you back without hesitation.

There was no time to register that this—this was your first kiss together. No time to process the warmth of his body pressed against yours, the way his lips moved with such desperation, as if he had been waiting for this moment longer than he cared to admit.

Instinctively, he spun you around, positioning his body between you and the door just as it burst open.

"You—M-Mr. Lee? What are you still doing here?" the head guard stammered, his eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets.

The man had spent the past few months working closely with Yunho, trusting him as their security consultant. And yet, here he was—lips swollen, hair tousled, in a very compromising position with the deputy head psychologist.

You fisted the gang member's shirt as if grounding yourself before snapping, "What do you think he's doing here? You're a man too, can't you see we're busy? What's with all the ruckus anyway?"

Yunho played along perfectly, smirking against your temple before turning to the guard. "Sorry, man," he said smoothly, voice dripping with amusement. "I know this isn't exactly professional, but I promise, it's all consensual. No harm done."

The head guard's face burned at the sight of your smudged lipstick on the man's lips. He paled as realisation hit him like a freight train. He had just walked in on the security consultant and the deputy head psychologist.

"M-My apologies," he stuttered, visibly flustered. He shifted awkwardly, clearly unwilling to explain the real reason for the intrusion—because to do so would mean exposing their own illegal operations. "There's just… been a break-in. We're on the lookout for an intruder. You were right, sir. We do have room for improvement still. I uhh... we can discuss that another time. P-Please continue."

With that, he hastily backed out and shut the door behind him.

Silence fell between you and the Enforcer. Your hands were still pressed against his chest, your lips still tingling from the kiss. And that was when it truly hit you.

That was your first kiss.

Your breath caught in your throat as you hesitantly lifted your gaze to meet Yunho's. His dark eyes studied you, unreadable, but his fingers still lingered on your waist, as if he wasn't quite ready to let go.

Then, a slow smirk curled at the corner of his lips. "Well," he murmured, voice teasing, yet there was something deeper beneath it—something softer. "That was one hell of a cover-up."

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"Ahh, Stefano… how long has it been since you started working with us?" the Chairman of Prestige Asylum mused, his voice smooth as he poured whiskey into two glasses—one for himself and one for the man seated across from him.

The Enforcer leaned back comfortably, one leg crossed over the other, exuding confidence as he flashed an easy grin. "I don't know, Chairman. You tell me. Long enough for you to give me a sizable tip, I hope."

His tone was casual, his expression unreadable, but beneath the mask, he was burning with barely contained disgust. To think this man had once held power, had once been an official of the law. Now, he sat here like a king, oblivious to the empire he was about to lose. If only the world knew the true depth of his depravity.

But Yunho had one final act to play.

The evidence was secured. The truth was waiting to be unveiled. He and Yeosang had delivered everything the night before—a crucial victory after months of deception and danger. But the fight wasn't over. Not until Sato was finished.

And now, as expected, he had been summoned. He knew why.

The break-in.

Yunho wouldn't be surprised if Sato was suspicious of him. After all, his sudden appearance at the compound the night before—coincidentally during the very time the security was breached—was too convenient. Even if he had been "found" in a compromising position with you, the timing was still too perfect.

Or perhaps the Chairman simply needed his expertise. As their trusted security consultant, it was his job to assess their weaknesses—and last night had proven their defences weren't as airtight as they thought. Either way, he was prepared for this.

His brothers were on standby, waiting for his signal. He had assured them he could handle this alone, though San had been tasked with lingering nearby—mostly to keep an eye on you. You were a valuable ally, he had told them. He had promised to repay you with freedom, he had explained. But everyone knew what you truly were to him.

You weren't just a mission to him anymore. You had become something more. Something he didn't even bother denying now.

You had never been a liability, not to him and not to the Black Pirates. And for that, they had accepted you—just as they recently had Seonghwa's new companion, a woman who had proven worthy of a place among them. Perhaps even something more to the eldest than anyone dared to say aloud. But it didn't matter. She had survived hell and clawed her way out, and now, under the Gentleman's guidance, she was becoming something formidable.

Even Mingi had let go of his initial resistance after learning of the horrors she had endured at the Red Room.

Yunho could only hope for the same outcome for himself. For you.

Did you know?

Did you realise you had become his greatest motivation?

He had left you the night before, the photos finally back where they belonged—in your hands. He had watched you stroke your parents' faces through the worn paper, tears welling in your eyes. And before he could stop himself, he had leaned down, pressing a firm kiss to your cheek. Your sharp gasp had made him smirk.

As your head snapped up to meet his gaze, he had only said, "You'll see them again soon. Don't worry." His tone had been light, but the promise was real. And when you had pushed him playfully by the chest, a soft smile breaking through your sadness, he had known.

"I believe you," you had murmured.

And then he was gone.

Now, here he was, sitting across from the man who had orchestrated so much suffering. The moment he had been waiting for. The moment it would all come to an end.

"A tip, you say?"

Sato chuckled, placing the whiskey glass in front of Yunho before taking a slow sip of his own. He didn't sit. Instead, he prowled around the room, his gaze sharp as he studied the younger man. "Not sure you deserve one after messing around with my deputy head psychologist," he mused, his voice light, but his stare calculating.

He leaned down slightly as if to intimidate, but Yunho only smirked, unfazed. He swirled the drink in his hand, meeting the bastard's gaze with a bold glint of amusement.

"Oh, come on, Chairman. A little conflict of interest won't hurt, will it?" he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "I'll make sure to take our late-night activities elsewhere next time, hm?" He smirked, watching Sato's lip curl at the deliberate provocation. "Besides, don't we have bigger problems to deal with? Like the break-in?"

Sato's eyes darkened for a split second before he exhaled slowly, strolling back to his chair. "I suppose… as long as my staff remains loyal to me, it doesn't matter who she sleeps with in her free time." His fingers tapped against the desk rhythmically before he fixed Yunho with a pointed look. "So, tell me, what more can we do to prevent such situations from happening again?"

The Enforcer hummed, pretending to think as he glanced down at the swirling amber liquid in his glass. "I do have some ideas," he mused. "But there's just one thing I don't get."

Sato tilted his head. "And what's that?"

Yunho lifted his gaze, his expression carefully blank. "Why someone would risk everything to break into your office. I mean… it's not like you keep money or valuables in there. What could possibly be worth infiltrating such a high-security place?" His tone was innocent, but the gleam in his eyes betrayed the true weight behind his words.

For the first time, the Chairman's fingers twitched. A sharp exhale. A slow lift of his chin. And then—

"Why don't you tell me that, Enforcer of the Black Pirates?"

Silence.

The gang member's expression didn't change, but his grip on the whiskey glass tightened slightly. He looked up at the bastard, his face blank, but inside, he felt the shift in the game.

Sato grinned triumphantly. "Had fun running around with your little friend last night?" he taunted. "Enjoyed what you found? I sure hope your Captain did."

Yunho said nothing.

"Go ahead," Sato continued smoothly, pouring himself another drink. "Enjoy your little victory while you still can. Because before you even think about doing anything heroic—or shall I say foolish—know this." He leaned in, his voice dropping lower. "I have allies everywhere, inside and outside this compound. You're outnumbered."

The taller man nodded slowly, sighing as if in reluctant defeat. "You might be right…"

Sato smirked.

"But," Yunho continued, setting his glass down with a soft clink, "do your 'friends' know what you've really been up to behind the scenes?"

The room tensed.

Sato's expression flickered for just a second.

Yunho leaned forward, his voice soft but lethal. "Would they still protect you if they found out that this so-called 'sanctuary' you've built is nothing but a slaughterhouse? That you've been trapping them, bleeding them dry, taking their money while secretly preparing to harvest their organs like cattle?"

The silence was deafening.

The Chairman stared at him. Then, he burst into laughter. A slow, condescending chuckle that grew into something darker. He downed his whiskey before shaking his head.

"Like you said, Stefano. That's if they knew." He leaned back, exuding confidence once more. "But they don't. And what they don't know can't hurt them." He shrugged. "If anything, they should be grateful I'm putting their otherwise worthless lives to good use. Had it not been for me, they'd be rotting away in prison or dying in the streets. Here, they serve a higher purpose." His lips curled. "Think of it as Prestige's way of cleansing the filth of the underworld."

Yunho scoffed. "Cleansing? That's a pretty word for butchering people alive for profit."

Sato tilted his head. "Call it what you want. No one will believe you. You and your crew? You're the criminals here. Any 'evidence' you claim to have? It can be dismissed as fabrication."

The younger man chuckled, shaking his head. "You sound awfully defensive for someone who isn't worried." Ryoichi Sato's smirk twitched. Yunho leaned back. "It's almost like… you're afraid someone might believe me."

The Chairman intertwined his fingers, exhaling as if growing tired of the conversation. "You're a smart man, Jung. The Black Pirates are one of the top dogs in this world. What good does it do either of us to tear each other down when we could be working together?"

Yunho raised a brow. "And do what? Harvest organs?" He scoffed. "Sorry, not exactly our kind of business."

Sato waved a hand dismissively. "Offer us protection. In return, we'll be generous in our repayment."

Yunho tilted his head. "And if I say no?"

Sato sighed dramatically. Then, he reached into his desk drawer and pulled out a file.

A familiar file.

Your staff profile.

He placed it down on the desk, tapping it lightly. "Then you leave me with no choice." He lifted his gaze, his voice soft but sharp as a blade. "Your precious little girlfriend will have to suffer in your stead."

The air in the room changed. For the first time, Yunho's smirk disappeared. He straightened in his seat, his jaw locking. "You won't be able to touch her," he muttered, his voice dangerously low. "She's under our protection."

The Chairman only smiled. "Oh, I know. But I don't have to touch her." He tapped the file again. "She isn't the problem. It's them."

Yunho stilled.

Sato's grin widened. "Her parents, Jung. You see, they may be alive, but they aren't exactly safe. And if I wanted to, I could change that in an instant. The question is… how will she feel when she finds out you were the reason she lost them? Will she still look at you the same? Will she still hold that soft spot for you?" He chuckled. "I wonder…"

The Enforcer's vision blurred red.

With a sharp inhale, he shot up from his seat, grabbing the bastard by the collar and yanking him forward. The Chairman only laughed, his eyes gleaming with twisted amusement.

"So, what do you say, Jung?" he whispered. "Come on. It's a win-win situation. You, your brothers, your girl—all safe. Isn't that great?"

Yunho's fingers clenched tighter. His heart pounded. For the first time since he started this mission—since he took on this dangerous role since he infiltrated this godforsaken place—he felt the stakes in a way he hadn't before. Because now, it wasn't just about taking down Ryoichi Sato and Prestige. It was about you.

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

"Well, Stefano? What do you say?"

Sato smirked, thinking he had Yunho trapped. That the weight of his threats—the looming danger over your parents' heads—would be enough to force the Black Pirates' Enforcer into submission.

But Yunho?

He had never been one to kneel.

"How about no?"

The Chairman's expression twisted, his nostrils flaring as he clenched his fists. "No? You'll regret this."

Yunho tilted his head, then let out the laugh he had been holding back for far too long. He bit his lip, shaking his head in amusement before casually dusting off his hands. Then, in a deliberate, lazy motion, he slipped them into his pockets, as if he had all the time in the world.

"Oh, Chairman," he drawled, his tone dripping with mockery. "I don't know about that. But I would like to thank you—for being so transparent with me. It's been an absolute pleasure."

The bastard's brows furrowed, suspicion flashing in his eyes. "What the hell are you—"

Then he noticed it.

Yunho lifted his chin slightly, nodding toward the shelf behind the Chairman. Sato instinctively followed his gaze—

And his heart stopped.

There it was. The broadcasting device.

The one usually kept in the administration office. The one used to make announcements throughout the entire asylum. The one that, somehow, was now here—in his office.

And worse? The light was on.

Every fibre of his being locked up as realisation slammed into him like a freight train. His pupils dilated. His breath caught.

"Fuck."

Yunho smirked. "Oh. So you do get it."

Sato shot up from his chair so fast that it scraped against the floor with a sharp screech. He lunged for the device—

But Yunho was faster.

The Enforcer was already moving, catching the Chairman's wrist mid-air and twisting it with just enough force to make Sato stumble. "Uh-uh," Yunho tsked, shaking his head as he tightened his grip. "Too late, old man."

From beyond the office walls—

Chaos. Shouting. Screaming. The once-calm halls of Prestige were now filled with the furious voices of the criminals who had, just minutes ago, thought they were safe.

And then—

BANG!

A gunshot.

Sato flinched, his head whipping toward the door. The unmistakable crack of shattering glass followed—a riot breaking loose.

"What the fuck have you done?!" Sato roared, his face contorting in fury as he struggled against Yunho's hold. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?!"

Yunho grinned. "Oh, I do. And man, it's even better than I imagined."

The Chairman thrashed in his grip, his entire body trembling with rage. "You bastard—"

"Me?" Yunho scoffed, yanking him back. "I'm not the one who just confessed to butchering his own people on a live fucking broadcast."

Another gunshot. More screaming.

Yunho's expression didn't falter.

Sato, on the other hand—

His face drained of colour.

"You said it yourself," Yunho continued, voice smooth as velvet. "What they don't know won't hurt them." He leaned in, his breath brushing against the older man's ear. "But now they know."

Sato's breath came out ragged. He could feel it now—the weight of all those people turning against him. The same criminals who had once worshipped Prestige, who had paid millions to find sanctuary within its walls, were now out for his blood.

All because of one mistake.

One miscalculation.

His trust in the wrong man.

Yunho finally released him with a rough shove, and Sato staggered back, gripping the edge of his desk for support. His hands shook. His mind raced.

No.

No, this couldn't be happening.

"YOU!" he bellowed, reaching for the gun tucked beneath his desk. But before he could even touch it, Yunho's fist slammed into his face. Sato's head snapped to the side, blood splattering across the desk as he crashed onto the floor, groaning in pain.

Yunho shook out his hand, exhaling. "Ahh..." He flexed his fingers. "Been wanting to do that for so long."

Sato coughed, wiping the blood from his split lip as he glared up at him. "You—"

Before he could finish, a loud boom echoed from outside. The door. Someone—no, several people—were trying to break it down. Sato's breath hitched. "No, no, no—" He scrambled up, only for Yunho to kick him back down with a boot to the chest. "Where do you think you're going, Chairman?"

Sato wheezed. "You don't understand!" His voice was different now—higher, desperate. "You think those animals out there will listen to you?! You need me alive! I'm the only one who can control them!"

Yunho's expression darkened.

"Control them?" He crouched down, gripping Sato's chin in an iron hold. "You mean like cattle? Like livestock?"

Sato swallowed hard.

"You're done, old man," Yunho whispered, voice laced with ice. "And there's nothing you can do to change that now."

Another boom. The door was breaking.

The Chairman panicked. His hands shot out, grabbing onto Yunho's jacket like a drowning man grasping for air. "We can make a deal! I can still—" The office doors burst open. A flood of people—Prestige's betrayed criminals—poured in, weapons drawn, faces twisted in rage.

Sato froze. His heart plummeted as the dozens of eyes locked onto him. Murderous. Hungry. Enraged.

"There he is!" someone snarled.

"You lying piece of shit!"

"You were gonna kill us all?!"

Sato's mouth opened, but this time, there was no audience to listen. No prestige. No power. No escape.

And Yunho?

He simply stepped back, slipping his hands into his pockets once more as he glanced toward the entrance.

There, leaning casually against the doorframe—San. The Tempest smirked, twirling a knife between his fingers. "Told ya," he drawled. "He'd be real popular soon."

Yunho chuckled, looking down at Sato one last time. "Have fun, Chairman." And with that, he turned on his heel—leaving the bastard to the very people he once controlled.

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

"Flowers for you, Doctor."

You blinked up from your desk, momentarily distracted from the paperwork stacked before you as your nurse placed a bouquet of bright yellow daffodils in front of you.

A soft breath of surprise left your lips as you sat up, fingertips brushing against the delicate petals. "Who are they from?"

The nurse grinned, leaning in to nudge your shoulder playfully. "Who else? Your mysterious man who drops by once in a while."

Your face grew warm, lips parting in mild protest, but before you could say anything, she winked and poked her tongue out teasingly before slipping out of the office.

With a quiet chuckle, you reached for the small white card nestled within the flowers. The scent of fresh blooms filled your senses as you carefully pulled it free, unfolding the note. The words were written in smooth, precise strokes.

"Congratulations on your new position, doc. A real one this time. I knew you'd make it. - your favourite, JYH"

You bit your lip, a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

Jung Yunho.

The enigma. The storm that had crashed into your life and, against all odds, saved you. You still weren't sure what exactly you were to him. Neither of you had ever defined it. Perhaps it was better that way. Perhaps he knew better than to drag you into his world, a world far too dark and dangerous for someone like you.

But even if there was nothing more, even if he could never offer you what a normal man could, it was enough. It was enough knowing that he was there. That if you ever needed him, if the shadows of the past ever came creeping back, he would come.

You exhaled softly, standing from your chair to retrieve a vase. As you filled it with water, arranging the daffodils with care, memories of that day—the day Prestige Asylum fell—flooded your mind.

The chaos. The gunfire. The shouts of fury and desperation.

And then him.

Walking towards you through the aftermath like something out of a dream—bloodied knuckles, dirt-streaked skin, and yet—looking every bit like Prince Charming.

"You're free now."

You remembered how his voice had sounded—low, rough with exhaustion, but so sincere as he pulled you into his arms. How his warmth had seeped into you, grounding you, as you clung to him.

How, in that moment, you had believed him.

And you still did.

Because despite the scars Prestige had left, despite the nightmares that still lingered in the corners of your mind, you were free. It had taken time, but you had built something new. You had found a place where you belonged, a purpose that was truly yours.

And he—

He had let you go. Because he had always known you deserved better. But before he left, before he vanished back into the world that had shaped him, he had left you one last thing. A number. A lifeline, tucked into your pocket as he had whispered, "In case you ever need me."

You had never used it.

Not yet.

But as you set the vase on your desk, watching the golden petals sway gently in the light, you found comfort in knowing that, no matter how far he was, he was always within reach.

And maybe, just maybe, that was enough.

ـــــــــــــــﮩ٨ـ

The dim glow of the desk lamp flickered against the polished mahogany surface, casting elongated shadows across the lavish office. Papers lay scattered in organised chaos, but at the centre of it all was a single, closed file.

The man behind the desk tapped his fingers idly against its surface, his lips curling into a slow, knowing grin.

"Huh," he mused, almost amused. "Yet another empire taken down by the Black Pirates." He flipped the file open again, skimming over the details—the chaos at Prestige, the dramatic reveal, Chairman Ryoichi Sato's downfall.

And at the heart of it all—the Enforcer.

A man as dangerous as he was loyal.

"And yet another weakness secured," the figure murmured, leaning back in his chair. His eyes gleamed with something dark, something hungry. "This is getting a little too easy."

Across from him, his subordinate hesitated before stepping forward, a new file in hand. He swallowed, choosing his words carefully.

"Perhaps, sir," he admitted, carefully placing the next folder on the desk. "But… the Phantom seems to be the only one yet to have any weak spots."

The figure stilled. Then, slowly, he reached for the file, fingers tracing the embossed name on its cover. A spark of intrigue flickered in his gaze as he flipped it open, scanning the neatly compiled information on the most elusive member of the gang.

The corners of his lips twitched. "Does he really not?" he murmured, more to himself than anyone else.

Silence.

Then, a dark chuckle.

"Why don't we present him with one?"

Y'all, I'm so sorry this chapter took me like a thousand years! Aside from the fact that work has been crazy, my perfectionism played another huge role in the delay. I'm still not completely pleased with this, but I'm hoping you lovelies would like it more than I did.

As always, thank you for reading and let me know your thoughts! <3

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All Rights Reserved © edenesth // DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, PLAGIARISE OR REPURPOSE.

[bleue-flora]

[original post]

@marshymashers hope it's okay to respond to you in a post, my answer was getting too long, so here we are. :)

First off, Tubbo isn't autistic. He has stated on multiple occasions [clip] [clip] that he isn't and it is none of our business to question him or diagnose him. That is incredibly disrespectful to Tubbo and anyone actually diagnosed with autism. He has stated that all the way back in 2022 that he is not, so please refrain from going around diagnosing people in real life and spreading false information. It is none of our business what diagnosis someone does or does not have unless they want to come forward and tell us.

Yes, Tubbo is dyslexic, as am I, which does mean he is neurodivergent, however dyslexia and autism are not the same.

According to the National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH): "Autism spectrum disorder is a neurological and developmental disorder that affects how people interact with others, communicate, learn, and behave." [link]

According to the National Institute of Child Health and Human Development (NIH): "Some of the most common learning disabilities are the following: Dyslexia. People with dyslexia have problems with reading words accurately and with ease (sometimes called “fluency”) and may have a hard time spelling, understanding sentences, and recognizing words they already know." [link]

In my post, notice I am not talking about neurodivergence as a whole, but specifically autism and the effect it has on communication and behavior. I also did not and have not said that autism excuses behavior nor is any type of shield to be used to paint Dream as innocent. Again, my point here was not about the wrongdoings, but about the communication I have seen over the past few days that speaks to a pattern that I have experienced over and over for 20 years that only after my diagnosis and people willing to hear me out as a result has subsided. I am talking about a 3 hour stream where Tubbo and Dream repeated the same things to each other over and over and couldn't seem to understand each other no matter how many times they said it. That is what I am talking about. Because I believe not that autism should be used as a shield but as a lens to view the situation more clearly.

All I'm saying is if people went into the discussion with the mindset that this could be a moment of autism misunderstanding not malicious or manipulative intent, then it would be more productive. Instead over and over the assumption is that Dream has ill intent so everything that is rumored and hinted at or said is viewed under that lens.

For example, it is a very common characteristic of an autistic person (or person with adhd) to mix up names. So, on one hand, people could see Dream calling Tubbo "Tommy" multiple times in that stream as Dream not seeing them as separate people and only seeing Tubbo as Tommy's best friend, and using Tubbo as a way to talk to Tommy, or whatever. But in reality, I can say with absolute certainty that Dream just screwed up the names on accident, as is common place for autistic people. There was no ill intent behind it in the slightest, it was simply an accident. That's all. Do you see the difference? By constantly viewing Dream under a lens of malicious intention we are mistaking what could just be a more innocent moment of autistic difference for wrongdoing. And all I'm saying is that until people give Dream the benefit of the doubt or grace that it could be an autism miscommunication, things will never resolve or change.

And yes, execution is at the end of the day the result and it doesn't matter whether you meant to hurt someone or not, you still did. But knowing intention is the difference between Dream being an imperfect autistic guy versus a movie villain. And whether rumors about him should be taken at face value to be true or whether we should give Dream the benefit of the doubt first.

In addition, if we don't take into consideration that Dream sees a situation differently because he's autistic and therefore an explanation of his wrongdoing may not make sense to him, then we are going to just assume he isn't taking accountabilty when in fact, he really just doesn't understand. In the same way, that Tubbo doesn't understand his reasoning.

For example, with the perception that Dream and his friends are misongynistic and sexist:

Tubbo's reasoning:

there are multiple accusations you haven't refuted of you calling a woman a whore + you singled out Aimsey and Hannahrose in your stream + you disrespected Caiti in that situation by getting involved and sending hateful fans after her + downplayed your involvement and the situation's point by not including it in your vid => you are sexist and misongynistic and need to clean up your act with how you treat woman.

Dream's reasoning:

there are multiple accusations you don't refute of you calling a woman a whore there is one accusation that I don't remember but don't want to call someone a liar, from awhile ago when I used whore more in my joking slang with my close friends + you singled out Aimsey and Hannahrose in your stream in my stream I mentioned many creators, including Aimsey and Hannahrose, to highlight my points about rumors, misconceptions and mispeaking + you disrespected Caiti in that situation by getteing involved and sending hate after her I provided information as I was a witness of a situation involving my best friend + downplayed your involvement and the situation's point by not including it in your vid I didn't include it in the video as Tommy didn't call me out for doing something in it and the situation is George's and Caiti's to discuss not mine => you are sexist and misgynistic and need to clean up your act with how you treat woman contrary to Tommy's statement I am not sexist or misogynistic, nor are my friends as there is no proof.

I don't think Dream is trying to dodge accountability, because (unlike some creators) over and over we have seen him own up, apologize and admit he was wrong or out of line and try to make things right in a reasonable manner. He has proven that he can and does take accountability, in this instance he just simply doesn't see why he needs to as he doesn't follow Tubbo's train of thought and reaches a different conclusion, in the same way Tubbo isn't following Dream's train of thought... anyways I really hope that makes sense or clears things up for at least someone lol. :)

[thehorrorsoftheblackbunnymask]

Paid Internship (Part 2)(Prison AU)

Author's Note: This is a Prison AU that the viewers of my blog seem to be pretty fond of. The main focuses for the romance parts will differ depending on the part. The reader is gender neutral and uses She/He stuff, but sometimes depending on what's going on I'll use stuff like Tits. Also, Sully will be in the fic, but I won't use his name. Pay attention to how Liu talks.

Author's Note 2: If you wanna be tagged for part three, leave a comment, or reblog.

Series Summary: Welcome to your paid internship at Roosevelt Federal Prison. After being seen for your potential and skills by your instructor at the Academy, he decided to give you opportunity of working in the US' most dangerous prison despite the disapproval and rejection from the higher ups. However, due to miscommunication and faulty paperwork, you're gonna up working with some of America's most danger serial killers for the semester.

Warnings: Implied Non-con, Murder, Lying, Deception, Descriptions of crimes, Perversion, Manipulation, Gaslighting, Gore, Sadism, Violence, Implied Nudity, Mocking, Humilation, Threats, Mood Swings, PTSD, Alcohol, Mental Illness, Dealings, Attempted Murder, Cursing, Sleep Deprived Workers, Stress, Agression, and More. This AU is not for the faint of heart.

Links: {Part 1} {Masterlist} {Series Concept}

"Oh god, what would Gibbons think of me if he saw me doing this," You said, rubbing you eyes as you stood infront of the door separating you from the inmates.

Liu didn't even tell you what Jeff stole from him, for all you know this could be some sick set up to get you hurt. However, you were slowly growing desperate. Toby's implication that Abbie Grace was still alive was filling you up with concern, she could be alive and out there, terrified, alone, probably hurt. Liu promised to tell you what he knew about Abbie if you gave him whatever Jeff stole.

Getting into solitary wasn't going to be easy. When you were first brought in, you saw a large line of men running into the ward. Based on this, your best assumption was that mostly security personnel were allowed in the ward, and if officers were let in, it was most likely with some kind of clearance. (A clearance you didn't have.)

"Ok Y/N, think, think. What are the pros of doing this... you get info from Liu, but he's already on your roster, meaning you'll be interviewing him some time down the road. But, he seems stubborn, so he won't tell me anything easily. You get to explore solitary! But, there's an extremely high risk that you'll get caught, expelled from the academy, fired from your internship, and most likely get charges placed against you."

You almost took back the deal. Almost.

"But if you don't fuck up, if you do everything right, if you solve this case, you'll be legend. You'll...get praise from Gibbons, from mom, from...," You paused, looking up with a shine in your eyes. "From...dad. I'm doing this."

Walking away from the inmates quarters, you made your way back to the little office Mandel assigned you. Closing the door as you entered, you looked at the little map posted up against the wall, looking for any security storage rooms.

Your plan may seem crazy, but it could work. Your plan was to somehow sneak into a security room, put on a uniform, grab some gear, find a keycard, and get into solitary. You'd be lucky if you even found the security room. The map was hard to understand, nothing was written in words, instead they used symbols as labels for rooms. You assumed that the orange coat for a symbol for some kind of inmate section.

"What would a symbol for the security room look like?" You asked yourself as you looked at the map.

Suddenly, you flinched at the sound of knocking coming from your door.

"INTERN! YOU IN THERE?" A masculine voice yelled from the other side.

Taking a deep breath, you made your way to the door. You couldn't but admit that you were a little on edge. What if they caught you sneaking into the inmate quarters through the cameras (But now do you think about it, where there any cameras to begin with?). That idea sent you into a panic, but you did your best to keep a neutral composure.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a large man. If you had the guess, he was probably was around 6'3, 6'4. You didn't take note of his appearance however, because you were more distracted by the large gun in his hand, and the large word "SECURITY" written on his chest.

"Um, can I help you?"

"Do you have a TV in here? We're checking all offices and rooms."

"...Yeah, why you ask?"

Without saying another word, the man pushed you to the side and grabbed the large TV from the corner.

"Hey! Dude! I need that," You stated, Marching towards the man as he lifted up the TV.

"Don't know if you got the news, intern, but any technology is strictly forbidden on prison grounds."

"...A prison...with no tech? How the hell is this legal, hell, how is this safe?"

The guard didn't say another word, walking off with the TV as you chased after him.

"If it's not allowed, why did I get it in the first place, hm?"

"From some dumbass I bet. Now, leave me alone; I have more bullshit I gotta deal with for the night."

Giving up on trying to get information from the security guard, you watched as he walked off into the distance. But, what he failed to notice was the fact that you were able to steal his keycard from his pocket. One of you cousins was a notorious thief back where you grew up, and he taught you a thing or two about pickpocketing.

"Never knew that dumbass' methods would work," You joked to yourself before quickly making your way to your office.

Opening the door, you took one last look at the map. After a few seconds of quick skimming, you saw the security room wasn't too far from the inmates quarters. It was a few doors down from the entrance to solitary, a pretty smart and convenient spot to hold the room.

Doing a quick check of your surroundings, you locked the door to your office and casually made your way to the security desk. You learned from when you snuck into the inmates' quarters. Even though you were an intern, looking scared and nervous drew attention, making you look suspicious, but if you kept a casual and calm expression, no one would suspect a thing!

"Just stay calm. Stay. Calm," You mumbled to yourself as you used the stolen keycard to open the door leading to the office area you saw when you first walked into the pasta section of the prison.

Taking a left, you did another skim of your surroundings before opening the security door and quietly making your way in. However, the first thing you were met with was the strong smell of sweat and iron.

"Shit...it smells like a high school locker room," You groaned as you pinched your nose. "Jesus...never heard of deodorant."

The security room was set up like a locker room. A few random uniforms were hanged against the wall with various numbers indicating their sizes placed above them. Some were hanged neatly, while others looked like they were placed in a rush. On the opposite side of the room, locked up in a glass container, where various guns, cuffs, shields, and batons. Even though the weapons were placed behind, hopefully, bullet proof glass, you couldn't help but feel like the glass wasn't going to prevent anything from being stolen. One thing you didn't notice at first was how dim the lighting in the room was. It wasn't so dark you couldn't see, but it was dark enough for some things to be barley noticeable. The last thing you cared enough to note was on the wall directly infront of you, a few lockers had their locks still open, meaning either someone was going to be back soon to get something, or someone forgot to close it, either way, you didn't want to stay long enough to find out.

Grabbing the uniform that looked like it would fit you best, you quickly changed into the security uniform. Looking at yourself in the mirror, the uniform was practically riot gear. Using the keycard to open the glass, you grabbed one of the guns from off the wall.

Walking out of the room, you took a deep breath before quickly making your way to solitary.

Opening the door, you instantly felt a shift in the atmosphere. Outside of solitary, there was always some kind of noise. May it be the sound of people walking, the noise the lights made, or just random white noise, there was always something. But here, here it was dead quiet, so quiet you could hear a pin drop. For some reason, you felt terrified to even make a single noise, to take a single step, hell, to even take a single breath. You felt regret hit you like a bus, you could feel your body begging you to go back, to take off the uniform, to figure out Abby'a case without Liu's advice, to do anything but fucking continue in solitary, but the idea of getting praise from Gibbons for solving such a hard cause, the idea of making your parents proud, the idea to prove to everyone at the Academy that you were capable of handling this internship blinded you from your body's judgment. So, as if your body went on autopilot, you started your journey down the halls.

The sound of the heavy boots of the uniform echoed throughout the hallway. Solitary was very bright and clean, walls perfectly white, and the lights lacked the ugly yellow tint the other parts of the prison had. It was such a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the prison. Not only that, but you haven't seen a single prisoner yet. All the rooms you walked past were either empty or locked, none of them had a single sign of life in there. So, it left you wondering, was anyone even supervising the prisoners? None of the rooms were labeled, none of them. No signs telling you were to go, nothing. So, if someone found you wondering around like a duckling without its mother, you'd be caught red handed.

"Hey! You!"

Flinching at the loud and sudden noise, you slowly turned around as you saw a woman dressed as a nurse power walking towards you.

"What are you doing here? You're supposed to dealing with Jeffery."

"Jeffery?"

"Yes! Ever since he's came back from his interview with that intern he's been out of control. He bit a chunk out of Elisa's arm when she tried to give him his medication. And his behavior starting to get...Ben relied up, and we can't have that! I refuse to deal with that fucking freak again."

"Oh shit... Where's Jeffery right now?"

"In his room left of here, just follow the noise."

"Ok."

"Thanks. Now I have to deal with a few injured prisoners in the normal section, have Goosemen radio me if things get bad."

As the nurse walked off, or more so ran off, you quickly took a left and followed the faint noise of screams and laughter.

What you saw made a chill go down your spine.

Jeff was running around his room with three security personnel chasing him as a nurse yelled for Jeff to calm down. Unlike earlier, Jeff's mouth was bleeding, his shirt tied around his waist as he ran around, revealing the fresh scratches all around his arm and chest, and for a quick second, you saw the flash of something shiny on his back.

"Jeffery! Please sit down and take you medicine! Afterwards you'll be left alone for the night, ok!?" The nurse yelled as she waved a bottle a pill in the air. "We've been at this for hours...tasers don't work, pepper spray don't work, and we can't shoot him nor use fear..."

"Is this common?" You asked, catching the nurse's attention.

"When he first got here it was, but he hasn't acted like this in years. Even when he didn't take his medicine, he wouldn't act like this."

"Maybe he's getting bored," A guard commented, causing the nurse to nod her head in consideration.

"Maybe, or maybe it was that intern. I don't know what happened when they spoke, but maybe they said something to cause him to act like this," The nurse said, a look of annoyance written on her face.

The nurse's statement made your blood run cold. After all the events that happened in the past few hours, you were starting to accept the fact you weren't the most liked by the staff.

"What did I even do?" You thought, a look of hurt and confusion in your eyes. "They don't even know what I look like!"

"I'm going to talk to Mandel about getting them off this case, or even out of this section in general. I don't know what Gibbons sees in them, but things where running as smoothly as they can run until they showed up, and now all the prisoners are acting up."

"Fresh meat," The guard added, causing the nurse to chuckle.

"Fresh meat in deed, sharks they are."

"Hey, it's their first day, give the kid some slack. Once the prisoners get used to their presence they'll simmer down," You said, shifting your gaze over to the various cells in the hallway.

"I hope you're right."

As you looked at the various cells, one cell in particular stood out. It was at the very end of the hallway, the light right above it flickering rapidly. Not only was it locked with a different kind of door, instead having the ones with a simple hole with a few metal bars to peek through and a small hole to slide food in, the entire thing was closed, no one could peek in or out. It was also kept shut with a wheel, and alongside the wheel was a bunch of chains, each tie holding a different lock. Whatever the hell was in there, nobody wanted it getting out.

Suddenly, the sound of a large thump drew your attention away from the door. Lying down on the floor, Jeff was being pinned down by the three guards that were chasing him previously.

"Ugh...I'm tired," Jeff said as he let out a yawn.

Taking out the knife from the back of Jeff's waistband, one of the guards slide it over to the guard you were talking to prior, who then placed it in a zip lock bag.

"OK Jeff, just take these and we'll be done," The nurse said softly, trying her best to hide her agitation.

Based on the nurse's appearance, she was exhausted, not only physically, but mentally as well. Her eyes had dark purple bags, her hair was a mess, and her uniform as practically in shambles.

"Fine," Jeff mumbled before swallowing the two pills.

"Finally," The nurse said under her breath. "OK boys, get out."

As everyone cleared out the room, you made sure to be the very last person to leave. Once everyone turned the corner, you quickly made your way back to Jeff's cell. Peeking through the small section of bars, you watched as Jeff spat out the pills he just "swallowed."

"Airheaded bitch," Jeff joked as he let out a chuckle.

"Jeff," You whisper-yelled, causing Jeff to turn his head.

"Awww, you missed me," Jeff teased before making his ways to the bars.

"No. You got something of Liu's, give it."

"Took him long enough."

"Huh?"

"I took that idiot's scarf a week ago and now he wants it back? Is he slow?"

Walking over to his bed, Jeff lifted up the mattress and pulled out a black and grey scarf.

"Here, and tell him that he owes me big time," Jeff said before hitting the door two times, causing the sound to echo throughout the halls.

"Ok."

As you walked off, you heard Jeff burst into laughter.

"How crazy is he?" You thought.

Howver, you froze in your tracks at the sound of chains hitting the floor. Turning around ever so slowly, you saw a pile of chains and locks sitting infront of the door at the end of the hall.

You knew not to go knew it, your brain was sending you all the alarms.

"Leave it be," "Go back," "It has nothing to do with you."

Those words rung in your head over and over again, but your body started to move on its own. It was as if the door had a magnetic field to it that caused you to get closer and closer, your mind was begging for you to go back, but your body was consumed with curiosity.

Every day you wish you never took a step near that fucking door.

Picking up the chains, you examined the material. Pretty standard chains, amazing quality, but still standard.

As you looked up at the door, you felt your mind begin to fog up. As if you were a puppet on strings, your hands reached towards the wheel, and before you could process what was happening, the door was already open.

There was a single light bulb in the room, dangling from the ceiling. As the light bulb flashed, you could make out the figure of someone tied to a chair. However, the moment your body took a step into the room, closing the door behind you, the lights stilled, and you could control your body once more.

"What...?" You said, turning behind you.

Sitting in the chair was a man, couldn't be older than 25. His head was facing the floor, his blonde hair hiding his features, but it couldn't hide his pointed ears. Heavy chains were keeping him bound to the chair. There was no bed, no sink, no toilet, no trays, nothing. The room was completely bare, the only things taking up space was you, the chair, and him.

As if he could sense your fear, the man slowly lifted his head, his head remaining tilted to side as he looked at you. His bright green eyes bored into your soul. The chill that went down your spine was indescribable. And that smile. It was something you could never forget. The dilated pupils, his wide, sinister smile, and the crazed look on his face. It still gives you nightmares.

"What...are you."

You didn't even think about your words. Whoever he was, he wasn't human.

CRACK!

You flinched as the sound of chains hit the floor once more. He broke off his chains.

Gibbons never trained you for a situation like this, saying that they would teach you once you got a job in a prison. So, all you could do was stare, pushing yourself as far back against the wall as you could.

As he made his way towards you, you felt your life flash before your eyes. The only thing you could think about was never being able to show your parents your certificate from the academy, how they'd never see you walk across the stage, and the sight of them seeing you body in a casket.

As he stared down at you, all you could do was cry. But then, all you heard was...

Laughter?

Looking up, all you saw was him throwing his head back in laughter, clapping his hands as he did.

"YOU SHOULD SEE YOUR FACE!" The man yelled as he sat down in front of you, holding his stomach.

All fear you had was traded with confusion.

"...What?"

"You're, you're that intern, right?"

"Uh, no?"

"Liar," The man said before booking your nose. "You're hot for an intern."

"..."

Standing up, the man reached his hand out towards you. "Name's Ben."

You swore you had heard that name before, but you couldn't place your hands on where.

Taking his hand, Ben pulled you up with a suprising amount of strength. Due to the how hard he pulled you, you ended up stumbling into his arms, causing his to wrap his arms around your waist.

You knew better than to think this, but you couldn't ignore how attractive, or more so how cute he was. Despite being in prison, his hair was relatively neat, and his smile and freckles were adorable.

If only you knew...

"I, uh... I didn't mean to come in here."

"I know!"

"...How?"

"You got a phone in your, left, no, right back pocket, along with a keycard that you stole," Ben said before leaning in, a teasing but flirtous look in his eyes, "Pretty illegal Little Miss/Mr. Intern."

Oh my god you could die right now. You were never one to fall so easily for someone's advances, but the way he spoke, the look in his eyes, and the way his arms wrapped around your waist made you melt.

"Can I see your phone?"

"O-Ok."

You didn't even think twice.

What was he doing to you? You were always reasonable, you rarely allowed yourself to fall into such emotions.

It didn't matter how he made you feel or react, he's a criminal, and if his room was this this locked up, that meant he was dangerous from the rest. Despite how fogged up your mind was, that was the one thing that you could think straightly about.

While you were distracted by your conflicting emotions, Ben was quickly slipped your phone into the pockets of his pants.

"Why don't we take this off," Ben said before pulling the helmet off your head.

Now that he had a good look at your face, Ben could feel his smile only growing wider. Thoughts raced through his head as he looked at you.

Disgusting.

Suddenly, he kissed you. You wanted to push him away, tell him that you couldn't put this opportunity at risk, but you just couldn't. Instead, you leaned into it, your body moving on its own.

"No, no we can't...I can't lose this," You said as you pulled away from the kiss.

"No one's going go find out " Ben responded, pulling you closer. "No one comes in here anyways."

You shouldn't believe his words, he's a criminal, you know better. Don't let every Gibbons taught you be all for nothing.

"...ok."

As Ben kissed you again, much rougher this time, you felt your mind go blank. As his tongue slipped into your mouth, his hands taking off the guard uniform, your hands made their way under his shirt.

Stop. Stop now. Go back. Leave.

The two of you then sunk to the floor, you straddling his hips as he gripped your hair.

As his hands pulled down your pants, you felt as if none of this mattered. The internship you worked months to get. It just, didn't matter anymore. Your mind was blank.

The room then went black, the only thing you could see was his eyes. All you could feel was his hands roaming your body touching every last bit of you. All you could remember was you straddling his lap, one of his hands holding your arms back as his other gripped your hair, forcing you into a kiss. You felt everything. And it all felt sooooo...painfully good.

"M-Mh fuck baby~ I ain't ever gonna stop..."

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

You never hated yourself more.

The entire event was a blur. Your mind and body weren't even on the same page, hell, they weren't even reading the same book. You didn't even feel like yourself during the whole endevour, it felt as if someone was wearing your skin, acting as you while you watched from the outside.

You had the power to stop it, you were an officer afterall. But the look he gave you, the touches, the words of reassurance, it was all intoxicating and so painfully mind numbing.

Did you even want it? You didn't even know. Moments before, when you felt in control of yourself, all you could feel was fear. He wasn't safe, he wanted to hurt you, but why didn't he? You were right there.

You didn't want to see him again, not at all. He was fucking with your head. You can't trust him, but anytime he's around it's as if all logic and sense leaves your body. You were completely at his will and he barely had to try.

But, something about him made him addicting. The way he's making you feel isn't normal, the way you so blindly opened the door wasn't normal, the patchy memories weren't normal. HE WASN'T NORMAL. He's doing this to you, but how?

"Y/N!"

Shooting up, you were no longer in solitary, but instead you were back in your office. Liu's scarf was placed neatly on you lap, and on your desk was you phone.

Standing at the desk was a very tired, but concerned Mandel.

"Ma'am?"

"I came in to check on you two hours ago, but you weren't here. Came back an hour ago, still not here. Came back five minutes ago, still not here. But when I come back now, FAST ASLEEP. Where. Were. You."

"...I was...I... I was trying to get my TV back from a guard..."

"One, for two hours? And two, who gave you one to begin with?"

"Um...Yeah, and I don't know..." "...Ugh...Wait, why the hell do you have a phone?" "Why wouldn't I?"

"Our prison doesn't allow tech due to a certain inmate."

"Why?" You asked, your blood going cold.

"He's able to control any kind of technology in a twenty-five mile radius. He's able to travel from tech to tech, he's one of our nonhuman inmates."

"What is he?"

Mandel looked around in the hallway before fully entering the room.

"We're not allowed to talk about him...but I'll tell you," Mandel said before taking a seat in front of you. "I won't say names, but he's a ghost. He was sacraficed by a cult, and came back as a vengeful spirt. He died relatively young based off what he told us, but he seems to be aging even as ghost. The longer we keep him, the harder it is to keep him under control. Not only that, but he's getting stronger too."

"...Will I be interacting with him at all?"

"What?! No! Are you crazy? You may be handling the Abbie Grace case, but he is far too dangerous for you. He's already on death row, Y/N, have you noticed that no one else is despite their crimes? I want you to focus on this case and nothing else. I don't want you interacting with inmates outside of the ones I assign you," Mandel said before leaning into your face, her eyes glaring into yours. "And I'll know if you do."

"...Y-Yes ma'am."

Picking up a file on the table, Mandel skimmed through the folder before speaking to you. "How did Toby's interview go?"

"Ma'am, have any of you guys thought of the possibility that Abbie still might be alive?"

Mandel's posture immediately straightened as she looked up at you, the atmosphere of the room changing into a more serious tone. Lowering the file, Mandel spoke, "What happened?"

"Getting Tobias to talk was a challenge. He kept teasing and refused to corporate. I asked him a few questions just to get a rough idea on his personality and patterns, just to get to know him better," You replied, sitting up straight as you played with the hair tie that was wrapped around your wrist. "When I bought up Jeff he finally started talking. Gibbons taught me to look into the way someone spoke, and when Tobias was talking about Abbie, he was talking about her in the present tense. When I asked him if she was dead, he said that he never said she wasn't."

Mandel's eyes widened in shock after you spoke. You neve saw Mandel so expressive due to her face being caught in constant exhaustion. "Never... We never found her body so we assumed she was dead. But, I'm not sure if we can take his word for it."

"How so?"

"He may not look like it, but Toby is a pretty good liar, anything he says we take with a grain of salt."

"Who else if involved in the case?"

"Jeff, Toby, and this Boss character from what we know."

"What if we get someone besides Toby to tell us if she's dead or not?"

"Hm... Jeff might, but his awnsers really depends on his mood."

"What about this Boss guy?"

"Here's the thing, we don't know who he is."

"What? What do you mean?"

"We've caught every pasta we know of, except for the guy they call Boss. But, there's also the possibility that the Boss isn't just one guy. Based off what we know about the proxies, one of their bosses is a man known as Slenderman, but we don't even know if he's real. He's only a legend, there's no picture of him, nor has he committed any acts himself. But, when Timothy and Brian first got here, they heavily implied that there way another boss. They didn't say any names, but that's what they implied. We also don't know if they're all working for the same boss. When Jeff calls someone the Boss, he can be talking about a completely different person than Toby," Mandel stated before hiding her face in her hands. "This case in so confusing..."

"Tell me about it," You said before looking up at Mandel. "So, what should we do?"

"Hm?"

"I mean, if Toby's right, this changes how we'll go about the case. It wouldn't be a murder case anymore but instead a missing person's."

"How we'll go about it isn't much of your concern. As you have interviews with the suspects, we're also having interviews with them as well, just to compare and contrast statements and behaviors. Keep in mind, you're still in training, and this is an internship afterall. Don't get ahead of yourself."

"I knowww, but this is such an exciting experience! I've been trusted to work with the worst criminals in the country, it's truly an honor."

"It's an honor til your working 22 hour shifts," Mandel stated bluntly before opening a redbull that she pulled out of her pockets. "I'm going to leave you to your devices."

"Is their anything you want me to do in particular?"

"Hmmm... Ask Chief Salloum for some evidence we collected on Abbie's case, I want you to look into and see if there's one, any clues on where she can be if she's still alive, and two, just look for anything you think is important. In the mean time, I'll try to get you an interview with Jeffery by the end of the week."

"OK Ma'am. Also, um, where can I find Chief Salloum?'

"Salloum is next to Banklin's Office. Salloum is leading the investigation while Banklin is handling the officers, he might have some information, but I'm not entirely sure," Mandel stated as she opened the door, "Good luck, Kiddo."

As the door closes after Mandel, you didn't even notice how long you were holding your breath for. What Mandel said about this ghost inmate really sent your mind into a frenzy. Whoever he was, they clearly wanted to keep him a secret.

"OK. Should I meet up with Liu or Salloum?" You asked yourself as you looked down at Liu's scarf.

After interacting wuth the Woods brothers, you couldn't help but notice how different they were from each other. Jeff was loud, perverted, sadistic, playful, and emotional, while Liu was more quiet and reserved, but his behavior was flipping. When you first met Liu, he was playful and painfully teasing, but when you met with him again at the cells, he was quiet and acted like he didn't want to speak with you at all. To be honest, you didn't know what was scarier, Jeff's weird unapologetic personality, or Liu's bipolar one.

"Liu."

Standing up from your desk, you wasted no time as you made your way back to the inmate quarters.

Checking the time in your phone, you noticed that it was 2AM. When you got here with Gibbons, it was around 6 or 7, and based on the waiver and contract Gibbons had you sign, you wouldn't be let out til 7AM.

As you walked towards the door of the quarters, you flinched at the sound of banging on the glass. Turning your head, you felt yourself ease up as you made eye contact with a pair of dark green eyes.

Raising up the scarf, you could feel Liu smile from beyond the glass. Liu's smile was different from everyone else's, it was soft, it was genuine.

Entering the quarters, Liu was waiting for you on the other side. Handing him the scarf, he stared at it for a bit before putting it on.

"Fucking asshole."

"Sorry it took so long, stuff came up."

Liu only glanced at you before rolling his eyes.

"This isn't even all of it," Liu said bluntly.

"What? This is all Jeff gave me. What else does he have"

"My gun."

"...oh... So uh, deals off?"

Liu didn't say another word as he grabbed your wrist, dragging you towards a cell.

"...ugh," A voice from the top bunk said.

Looking up, all you saw was the top half of Toby's body dangling from the top bunk.

"Are you drunk?" Liu asked honestly, poking at the man's face.

"Maybeeeee," Toby said before reaching out to Liu, making kissing noises as he did.

"Go to bed, Tobias," Liu said, pushing Toby's body back onto his bed. "Got any more?"

"Under the desk," Toby said as he face planted into his pillow.

Picking up the bottle, Liu sat down on the bed as he opened it. "What do you want to know?"

"Everything you know."

"Pretty vague to be honest."

"Alright then... What did you do to Abbie?"

"Even more vague."

"How?!"

"Cause I said so," Liu said before taking a sip of his alcohol, hiding his amusement as Toby giggled.

"He ain't telling you shit!" Toby yelled before bursting out into laughter.

"Shut up, Ticci," Liu said.

"Don't call me that," Toby slurred.

"Whatever."

"Enough! I don't have time for this. Where is Abbie?"

"I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know."

"I wasn't the last one to have her."

"Last one?! How many people was she with?"

"Too vague."

This man was going to be the death of you.

Groaning into your hands, you thought about your most important question.

"Is he awake?" You asked, pointing to Toby.

Peeking over the bunk, Toby was sound asleep, snoring into his pillow as he did.

"No."

"...Is Abbie Grace alive?"

That was the first time you saw a reaction from Liu. The best you could describe his face was stumped.

"Why you ask?"

"Just awnser the question."

Liu's face went back to his numb expression before glancing upwards.

Without saying another word, Liu nodded his head. That was all the conformation you needed.

"Where is she, Liu."

"I don't know, and this isn't an interview, so I have no obligation to anwser."

"How would you feel if I told the head of this side that you have a gun in your possession?"

"One, you don't even know who that is, two, I don't have it, Jeff does, and three, how would you feel if I told Mandel that not only did you sneak into here, did a favor for a prisoner, but you also slept with one as well?" Liu said, leaning in so close to your face that your noses were just barely touching. "That's pretty punishable."

You felt your blood run cold, and he could see it on your face.

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Liu said before pushing himself against the wall. "Don't talk all big when your small, sweetie."

"How did you know..."

"Know what?"

"W-What you just said."

"I didn't say anything."

Both of you knew what he said; you could see the amusement in his eyes.

"Ooooo, what'll happen if Banklin finds out that the intern slept with dear old Benjamin...Intership go bye bye," Liu joked, waving his hand before laughing. "Don't worry, I won't tell if you don't. Secret safe."

You never thought you'd be blackmailed by a prisoner, but today was already full of surprises.

"Now, is that all, princess/princie?"

"...Yeah."

"Don't be so sad," Liu said before grabbing your face with his hands, his touch being painfully soft. "You're the only one."

You felt sick to your stomach.

Standing up as fast as you could, you quickly made your way out of the room; Liu's giggles echoing throughout the halls.

You were so dumb.

You were supposed to logical, practical, and you normally were, but ever since you stepped into to this hell hole it was as if a switch was flipped in your head. You would never be making these many mistakes. Gibbons would kill you if he found out, but you just wanted to make him proud, he's worked his ass off to get you here, you didn't want to waste it.

"What's wrong with me?"

"OW!"

You were so caught up in your train of thought that you failed to notice the man in front of you.

"Oh I, I'm sorry. Let me help you," You said, quickly bending down to help the man pick up his files.

Pushing up his glasses, the man revealed a soft smile.

"No no, it's ok. You're the intern, correct?"

"Um, yes!"

"What's your name, kiddo?" The man asked as he started to walk towards the offices.

"Y/N L/N, sir."

"Call me Salloum. I'm one of the leaders of the case we're having you look into. How is that going?"

"It's been a Rollercoaster to say the least."

Salloum pulled a key out of his pocket as he opened the door to his office. "Hm... How so?"

"I thought I had the case figured out. But, when I was interviewing Tobias he said something interesting. "

Sitting down at his desk, Salloum pulled out a small notebook as he leaned back into his chair, placing his feet on desk in the process. His tired, empty eyes stared into your young, stressed ones as he looked at you and his notebook. "I'm listening."

"He implied that Abbie Grace is still alive."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"He implied-"

"No I know I know! It's just. Fuck! How could we miss that, how could we overlook that? How could I overlook that?"

"Um, Salloum..."

"Not now kid, just. Ugh. Thank you for bring this to my attention, but I need you to leave now. There's a lot of stuff I need to get done."

"Yes, yes, of course, of course."

Once you got back to your office, all you did was sit down and think. It was all so overwhelming.

However, all you could feel were hands roaming all of your body as you zoned out entirely. Faded whispered slowly growing louder and louder as your body went limp.

You don't even know.

Such a good girl/boy you are.

You're mine now...

My perfect little whore.

You're so pathetic.

Stupid.

Dumbass.

Useless.

Useless..

Useless...

USELESS!

What did he do to you. It wasn't natural. You weren't in control. You were a puppet. He controlled you. But why? Why you? For what reason? Why does he have your phone? Should you tell Mandel? Why are you crying? Why are you shaking? Why is the world spinning?

BEN. The most dangerous inmate in the entire prison. His power: technological manipulation.

You were so stupid. Did you really forget, or did his control fog your mind? But if he did control you, how?

You couldn't take it anymore. You needed to go home for the night. Now. You needed to leave now. He couldn’t reach you if you left, right? He couldn't touch you again, he couldn’t control you again, he can't hurt you again if you leave. You'll come back tomorrow with a fresh mind and be ready for work. Yes. Yes. Just, leave.

"Miss," You said as you walked into Mandel's office.

"Yes?" Mandel responded, not looking up from her paperwork.

"I need to go home."

"What? Now? Your shift isn't even..."

As Mandel looked up at you, her words froze. You looked tired. Traumatized. Souless. You looked done.

"Kid what happen?" Mandel asked, standing up as she made your way towards you.

"I need to go home for the night."

"Look at me kid, what happened."

"...home... I want to go home," You stuttered out as you burst out into tears. "I'll be back tomorrow I promise but I need to go home."

Mandel just stared at you before nodding in approval. She got you an Uber and you were able to get a ride back to your dormitory at the Academy.

"Hey! You're back early, how'd it go?" Your roommate asked as you walked in.

However, you just walked past them, closing the door to your room as you plopped down onto your bed.

You were exhausted to say the least. You didn't even notice you fell asleep. But, for some reason you woke up in the middle of the night. You were still kind of sleepy so you weren't fully aware of your surroundings, but after some complicating of whether or not you should get out of bed, you slowly became aware to the sound of a TV.

Looking at your clock you saw that it was 4:45 AM.

"Lillian's never up this late," You grumbled as you stood up.

Your position on the bed was kind of awkward. Your upper body was laying on the bed while your legs dangled onto the floor.

"Lillian, can you turn it down please?" You asked as you rubbed your eyes, standing infront of your door as you faced the TV.

But, much to your suprise, no one was there. The TV was the only source of light in the entire room, and playing on it was just static.

"...I'm too tired for this," You mumbled before grabbing the remote.

But, the TV wouldn't turn off. No matter how many times you slammed down on the button the static would just continue.

"Are the batteries dead or something?" You asked yourself as you examined the remote.

In the back of your head you knew something was wrong. But, all you wanted was to get a normal night's rest and in the morning you could go back to work like nothing happened.

In what little time you were at the prison for you were able to deduce one thing. That place was full of secrets. Secrets that everyone knew but were never brave enough to discuss. Everyone you interacted with just held this vibe of uncertainty, anxiety, fear. It was like everyone knew that this place wasn't secure, and it didn't look like it either. What kind of prison doesn't have cameras? Or evenbetter, what kind of prison holds some of Americas most dangerous serial killers all in the same prison, in the block, knowing damn well that all of them are acquainted with one another.

If you were any other intern you would've just quit the moment this happened, but you were just any other intern. There was a reason on why there were here, a deeper reason. A reason that surpassed even government control. Maybe you were better off being a detective. Maybe you wouldn't be where you are now.

Rotting away. With Mom and Pa staring at you from the other side.

I should've quit.

"Nope, nothing wrong with the remote," You said before setting it back down. "Imma just put my headphones in."

But, as you turned around, you felt your blood run cold as you heard an all too familiar voice come from the TV.

"Baby~"

That glitchy, raunchy, mocking voice. You didn't dare turn around.

"Awwww, don't be scared."

Footsteps.

How? How the hell did he get here? How did he escape without anyone noticing?

Hands....hands. You felt his arms wrap around your waist as you leaned onto you. It felt as if he was towering over you.

"I ain't gonna hurt you," Ben said before placing something in your hand. "Just wanted to return this."

Your phone. A part of you just wanted to throw it out of your dorm window, something about it just didn't feel right, but, you stopped yourself. You didn't have the money to just buy a new one, and this was the only way you can communicate with your parents.

"How'd you get out...?" You asked.

"Oh, I'm not here. You see, I can travel a little bit of my soul to anywhere I want within my technological reach. I'm like a little hallucination while my body remains in my cell. I could come here right now if you want."

That voice. That feeling. Your world started spinning.

Not again.

"Have a little fun," Ben whispered, rubbing your arm as he talked. "We could do way more here than out there... You'll be fucking screaming."

Stop.

Your mind and body was fogged up. You couldn't think, you couldn't move.

But suddenly, you felt normal again. All of a sudden you came back to your senses and pushed him off you.

"No! I don't want any of this. Go back before I file a report that you escaped."

"What is that going to do? I can just report that you had sex with an inmate. That's pretty immoral, Y/N."

He wasn't wrong. But, Liu told you this wasn't the first time something like this happened, so maybe you'd have a chance at saving your career.

"I'm not the immoral one. Go. I don't want to see you again, you hear me?"

All he did was laugh. That glitchy, high pitched laugh...

"Loud and clear!"

You watched as Ben floated back into the TV, causing it to shut off completely.

Exhausted, you made your way back to your bed. As you laid down in your bed all you could think about was Abbie. Despite the Rollercoaster you had today all you could think about was her. She was out there somewhere. Sad, scared, alone. You had to look into it more tomorrow. You had to get a sit down with Toby and break him. Maybe you could look more into his file and figure out some weaknesses you could exploit. Out of everyone you talked to, he seemed like he'd be the most easy to crack. Jeff is too violent, trying to crack him would probably leave you with a cracked skull. Liu is way too unpredictable. Sometimes he's wacky, sometimes he's quiet, sometimes he's cold, sometimes he's compliant, sometimes he wants to just fuck with you point blank.

Plus, Toby was pretty interesting to talk to. A little manic, a little unhinged, but he had a surprising amount of life and personality to him. Charming? No. Chaotic and fun? Definitely. Maybe a talk with him can lighten up your mood. You still had to figure out how to talk to him. He was the inmate you wanted to have a bond with. An inmate who trusted you and would be honest with you. An inmate you could rely on.

You made up your mind. You were going to talk with Toby.

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

"Feeling better, kid?" Mandel asked as you walked into her office.

"Much better," You said as you sat down in front of her. "Ma'am, I'd like to have a meeting with Toby today."

"Why?"

"I talked it over with Salloum and I'm pretty sure I got the go to dig into deeper."

"You sure?"

"Positive."

No you were not.

"OK, I'll have him ready by 10."

You knew lying to Mandel was going to bite you in the ass later, but you had to do what you had to do. Some of the best officers are considered the best because they did things differently, or at least that's what Gibbons taught you.

You spent the next three hours analyzing your interview with Toby. You analyzed his awnsers and behavior in order to come up with a solid approach.

You were able to come up with a series of questions that weren't too obvious in showing your motives. One thing you learned about Toby was that he was stubborn, and you had to navigate through that. Was it going to be easy, of course not! This man is the definition of a maniac.

Back to room 111.

You sat there anxiously as you heard footsteps slowly approaching.

"Don't make me regret this, don't make me regret this," You mumbled to yourself.

Rule number 1.

As the door opened, your breath hitched as you met the manic gaze of Tobias Erin Rogers. As he eagerly took a seat in front of you, you watched as the door closed behind you.

Now it was just you and Toby.

Always take what Toby says with a grain of salt.

"How are you doing Toby?" You asked, organizing your question paper as he talked.

"Pretty shitty *WOWIE* until I heard I was talking to you today," He said with grin on his face, leaning into the palm of his hand as he looked at you with admiration.

Hell, don't even consider it.

"That's good I suppose. Now, you want to get straight to it or would you like to talk about your night first?"

"...Straight to it."

No matter how believable he seems.

"OK, so."

Because he's always five steps ahead.

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

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