[bunispectre]

𝗜𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗼𝗱𝘂𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 ⊹ ࣪ ˖

I go by nana ⊹ ˖ Ი𐑼ㅤ˚. ᵎᵎㅤ𝘀𝗵𝗲/𝗵𝗲𝗿 ︱ 𝟮𝟮.

‎˚.♡ ᵎᵎ﹡ 𝗳𝗼𝗰𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱 𝗼𝗻 𝗛𝗔𝗕𝗜𝗧 / 𝗲𝘃𝗮𝗻 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 — english is not my first language.

𝗗𝗡𝗜. ᵎᵎ racists, homophobes, transphobes, sexists, proshippers, anyone who is radical about politics or is harmful to others.

This profile is +18, minors please do not interact or at least be cautious. ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜.ᐟ

ֹ۪ ´ཀ`𓈒 feel free to make requests or interact!!

[bunispectre]

honest question, do u guys think HABIT would be a Pitbull fan?

[bunispectre]

THANKS for making habit write in all caps, Honestly, it's quite tiring to see how they put everything in lowercase when his writing style it's his most notable characteristic, if they don't know how to portrait the character they shouldn't do it ,😔😔

your welcome (ᵕ—ᴗ—), I stick to the canon because otherwise I don't like it, but its kind of a thing of preference at the end of the day, it can also be an aesthetic decision, not a flaw in the character interpretation

[bunispectre]

I'm thinking about an insecure m!reader that needs constant reassurance, but it's mostly physical (not sexual). Like if he notices Evan / HABIT move slightly away (usually not on purpose) he starts to overthink it. Reader is good with rationalizing, and knows it's an overreaction but sometimes those thoughts get to him even if he doesn't say anything. Maybe it's even worse when he feels like he's the only one to initiate touch in any way

I'm curious on how the two would respond to it, or if they start to notice the behavior shift in reader instead !!!

𝗢𝗹𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝗯𝗶𝘁𝘀, 𝘀𝗮𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀.

HABIT ⊹ male ! reader. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁: insecurity about a relationship, mentions of murder, human offerings, hurt / comfort, mild violence. 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯.

Security in a relationship was one of the things you valued most, especially dating "two" people, even if they shared a body. Even so, when it came to yourself, that security morphed into self-doubt over the smallest things.

Evan was more understanding; he could understand the glances you gave his hand when he suddenly let go, and instead of making you feel like you were overreacting, he would explain why he did it, kiss your temple, and remind you that no matter what happened, you were the most important thing in his life.

The two of you would spend hours cuddled up in bed, him playing with your hair, your legs intertwined. However, the next morning when you woke up and he wasn't beside you, the feeling of emptiness and uncertainty would return.

You couldn't help but wonder: what if he didn't really enjoy being with you? You looked at yourself in the mirror, trying to hold back your tears and treat the situation as normal. You were supposed to be able to handle it; it was irrational to think that someone as sweet as Evan would be embarrassed to go out with a guy like you. He even used to call you the apple of his eye in front of anyone who would listen.

Precisely because of this, you sometimes forgot that HABIT was there too. Unlike Evan, he was more teasing, less affectionate, and very untouchable. That's why every time he pulled away or jumped when you touched him, the insecurity about whether you were enough to make him feel comfortable was overwhelming. You couldn't help it.

What if HABIT, unlike Evan, didn't like you? The insecurity grew when you went out together, and sometimes HABIT would stare at people, as if he were planning something, perhaps choosing the ideal victim for that day. But your brain interpreted it differently.

That's why, when you got home and for the rest of the day you'd remained as quiet as a mouse, HABIT, without really noticing, had been talking for several minutes, one of his monologues where he said a lot but meant little. "You're very quiet today, have you finally lost your tongue? And what about the distance? You usually cling to me like a tick." he said in an almost mocking tone, although, faced with no response, a dramatic sigh escaped his lips, making it clear that he knew what was going on and wasn't taking it well.

"Let's see, sweetie, if you think I'm going to be like that wimp Evan who runs to hug you, you're wrong. Start talking fast, I don't have the patience." HABIT insisted.

After a while of silence, you finally spoke. "When we left you didn't hold my hand and you were staring at another guy."

A mocking, almost hoarse laugh escaped HABIT's lips even before he moved them, a guttural, distorted sound. "So you're jealous? How…pathetic, to be honest, but I guess it can't be helped, that empty head of yours doesn't understand anything, right?" He questioned, moving close enough to grab your chin tightly. The grip was almost painful, and he scanned your face for any sign of pain, which, when he saw it, was met with a purr of satisfaction.

"Let's get one thing straight, I don't care about any of those pathetic creatures walking the streets, and if I've allowed you to be in my space for so long, it's not because of that idiot Evan. I'd kill you right here even if he begged me not to." HABIT practically spat out the words, the redundant tone making you feel small even if you were both the same height.

"What do I have to do to make you feel better, doll? Should I go and track down every person I've seen to offer you a pile of bodies? But that wouldn't be enough for Mr. Whiner, would it? Even then, you'd complain that I didn't take you with me and hold your hand while I kill some poor wretches." HABIT sneered, releasing your chin before scooping you up tightly and pulling you down onto his lap, holding you firmly and digging his fingers in in a way that was sure to leave bruises the next day.

"Better this way? If so, shut up and stop bothering me, rabbit."

Yes, even if he was completely different from Evan, HABIT had his own way of caring. Feeling a little calmer with the newfound closeness, you closed your eyes and rested your forehead on HABIT's shoulder. You'd have to learn to stop interpreting every gesture as something bad, but receiving a little extra affection wasn't so bad.

[bunispectre]

Hi! Could I ask for a scenario where the reader is Habit's wife?

But Habit is truly in love with—or obsessed with—his beloved (the reader).

Like a form of adoration.

Obviously, the reader is human.

Could it be female? :D

Please, please, pleaaase—I'll give you my cat in exchange! 🥹

𝗦𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

HABIT ㅤ⊹ㅤfem ! reader. 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁: some strange kind of fluff. 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁

HABIT loved you, or at least as close to it as someone like him could feel—enough, in fact— to marry you, perhaps not in the legal sense, since the name that would have to appear on the marriage certificate was Evan, and HABIT would never allow that.

But you already had a sparkling stone on your finger and a loving husband, in his own way, who would undoubtedly do anything for you. That's why you had ended up living together in a rather beautiful house, an abandoned dwelling in the woods that HABIT spent weeks restoring.

Which means he had inHABITed several people at the same time to get it over with quickly and had probably eaten a couple, but him? He was proud.

That day was a Sunday, a quiet morning where you both woke up with the weight of the cat you had both adopted, Vinny, on top of you, HABIT's arms around your waist with a strength that spoke of a man clinging to the chance to be with the love of his life. Or rather, the love of the only one of his many lives that was worthwhile.

“We have to teach him not to bother me, or I’m going to leave him just like Vinny,” HABIT said. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck, the movement of his mouth, and how his grip on your body grew stronger as he decided to bury his nose in your neck and leave a kiss on the curve where it met your shoulder.

“You’re the one who wanted a cat; you can’t threaten to kill it now,” you reminded him, turning your head just enough to at least see him out of the corner of your eye.

“Honey, you can’t trust me with decisions. If that were the case, we’d all be living in a cave,” he replied sarcastically.

By the time you both got out of bed, the first thing you saw in the dining room was the set table, a bouquet of scentless wildflowers tied with a purple ribbon, and the smell of roasted meat. HABIT, getting ahead of you, stood in front of the table, puffing out his chest with pride. “Aren’t I the most romantic bastard? I hunted a few rabbits for you, Angel Face.”

He boasted, as if the mere act of making breakfast was cause for celebration, and perhaps it was; after all, HABIT didn’t even need to eat and had gone to the trouble of doing all this. Knowing what he was after, you gently stroked his hair, to which he let out a purring sound that he quickly stifled by clearing his throat. “The air here is so dry. Anyway, sit down and eat. I went hunting.”

“You know you don’t need to call going to the supermarket hunting, right?” you replied, gently poking his waist. He didn’t even move; in fact, he seemed pleased with the attention.

“I definitely hunted the idiot I left hanging and the one whose bags I stole. I know it. I’m quite the predator, princess.” And you couldn't help but laugh at his words. His smile, however manic it might have been, widened, and he almost looked like he was about to pat his own shoulder.

He was doing a great job making you happy so early in the morning. Was there anything HABIT couldn't do well when it came to you?

After breakfast, listening to him talk about why spicy food was underrated, nodding a few times, and washing the dishes together, you both ended up on the sofa, you on his lap while he held you tightly, almost cradling you if it weren't for Vinny, the cat, who snuggled up to his side.

The scene was domestic, and even though for HABIT that kind of human ritual was just silly, with you it felt like something he would do a million times over. After all, you were the only thing that mattered, and he was the only thing you had.

HABIT is a loving husband, as long as you could overlook the fact that the front door had four locks and the windows were boarded up.

But you had chosen this; you couldn't blame him for looking after his own property.

[bunispectre]

WWWWWouuuullldddd you write for vinny because I got a friend who's obsessed with him and I needa feed her before she starves to death-⁠ᄒ⁠ᴥ⁠ᄒ⁠-

will do ! although it will be somewhat experimental since I have a master degree in HABIT/ Evan but I get silly with others.

[bunispectre]

I have three requests in the process. i'm publishing them between tonight and tomorrow (๑ᵔ⤙ᵔ๑)

[bunispectre]

you write habit so in character im gonna kiss u /silly

kay let's kiss /j

[bunispectre]

𝗥𝗲𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗹𝗲𝘀𝘀 𝘀𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗰𝗵

B.E.N ˖ Ben. ㅤ⊹ㅤgn ! reader. 𝗧𝗪: cult references, themes of death, and problems in accepting loss.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: I hope this turns out as well as I imagined, request by @cup1dh4sstruck

Life wasn't kind, that's why the decisions you made led you to the life you had now, amidst blurry memories and clinging to a life that no longer existed.

You were only ten years old when Ben disappeared. The older members said he had left, that he had escaped the safe environment of the cult, drawn by an impure and unsalvation-free life. Even so, as time passed, forgetting the one who had been your friend in such a stoic place proved impossible.

And even when it was your turn to leave, you never truly forgot him, losing touch with the "family" you had made with the Moon Children.

Shortly after you left, you never heard from them again, but strange events in your life led you to a secondhand bazaar with a Zelda cartridge bearing the name 'BEN' in capital letters.

With trembling hands and a weary expression—the only one you remembered having in your entire life since you'd tirelessly searched for the only real friend you had in a place filled with lies—you looked at it, clutching the hard plastic tightly.

An old game console connected to a barely functioning antique television in your basement was all you had for company. The bulb, with its warm light that seemed about to burn out at any moment, barely allowed you to see anything more than your reflection in the old screen.

You were tired, tired of searching and chasing the memory of someone you refused to let go of completely. So, clinging to your last chance, you closed your eyes and inserted the cartridge into the console.

The menu flickered across the screen, and the game's name in large letters in front of you made it impossible to blink. Your hands trembled as you tried to do something, to die trying, or to find something that would tell you what happened to Ben.

However, before you could do anything, you simply unplugged the console, stood up, and left the basement. You weren't ready for an answer, not now, maybe never.

Except the TV never turned off. It flickered a few times until an image appeared in the center.

"That's kind of pathetic," the distorted voice spoke from the TV, the game's pixels taking on a strange shape until finally BEN'S image appeared in the middle, his head peeking through the glass before he left the game. "You'd think your little friend wouldn't be such a coward, but maybe they don't care about you that much."

The entity let out a hollow laugh, kneeling before the television where, in an empty valley with a haunting moon, a statue from the Elegy of Emptiness stared out of the game, as if it could witness reality despite its digital state.

BEN, however, only let out a mocking sound before standing up, his body distorting and the lights in the room flickering on and off. "Fate is rather pathetic, but I suppose this is their choice. I won't make them suffer, not too much, cheers my old friend, It seems that no one has completely forgotten you yet."

He added, letting out a cackle, before disappearing, surely to torture you until you could do no more.

And Ben? Ben could only stare at the empty room from inside the game and lament that you had wasted your life searching for someone who no longer existed.

Not without posing a danger to you.

[bunispectre]

hating a game that everyone likes sometimes make me wonder if I'm wrong, but the more I read the story the more I hate it. 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

[bunispectre]

I cut my bangs and they look so good I will write HABIT and evan reacting to their lover with bangs

[bunispectre]

I have an idea—though maybe not a great one :(

Could you write a scenario where Habit is in love with or obsessed with the reader, and then somehow ends up delivering the reader's baby?

(Meaning, the reader is already pregnant by someone else in the group—like Jeff, Alex, or Vinnie?)

Basically, I’d love to read your take on what Habit would do or how he’d act toward the baby and the reader.

If that’s not too much to ask 😭😭😭

𝗔 𝗯𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗱'𝘀 𝗹𝗲𝗴𝗮𝗰𝘆

HABIT.ㅤ⊹ㅤfem ! reader. 𝗧𝗪: obsession, isolation, mention of corpses, emotional manipulation, unwanted pregnancy, slight child cruelty, strangulation. ( ˶°ㅁ°) !! 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜 / 𝗮𝗻𝗼𝗻 𝗿𝗲𝗾𝘂𝗲𝘀𝘁

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: I hope I've done justice to the idea this anon had.

You were always the perfect victim, even before he stole Evan's body and there were traces of a budding obsession. After he made him his own, that nagging feeling in Evan's chest became the driving force behind HABIT's actions.

You were so naive. When Jeff, Vinnie, and Alex disappeared, you completely swallowed HABIT's excuse about staying by his side so he could protect you. It had been easy; he didn't have to insist, just smile a little and plant some ideas in your head, presenting himself as a protective but cruel entity that didn't operate according to human logic, someone opposed to the true culprit of the tragedy.

They were sweet lies you believed without thinking twice, making HABIT basically purr with pride.

And then the unthinkable happened. After weeks of feeling unwell and a slight weight gain, the pregnancy symptoms became obvious. And HABIT? He wasn't happy. He often looked at your stomach with something akin to contempt, as if he could already tell that what was there wasn't his. Not that it took much thought; you two hadn't even shared a bed yet, even if HABIT was dying to devour you. But his plan was to build an image of himself in your mind so that even when he revealed his true nature, you wouldn't be able to escape.

And yet, one of those bastards had beaten him to it. He was annoyed, irritable all the time, ignoring you and even more brusque than usual. Leaving the house became a request that was met with a firm no. HABIT even took the time to board up the windows, change the locks, and leave a freshly mutilated corpse at the entrance to heighten the sense of danger.

Months passed, and with them came the day of the birth. HABIT wasn't happy, and even though you were suffering, he refused to take you to a hospital until it was absolutely necessary. Hours passed, hours during which he had to suppress his discomfort and act like the boy worried about the mother of his child—a bastard who wasn't even his. From the baby's first breath, there was something in HABIT that was dying to get rid of him. Just by smelling him, he could tell he was Vinnie's, even if HABIT had already disposed of him. That bastard had put himself where he shouldn't have, and HABIT, covered in a robe, just stared at the baby in his arms with such deep hatred that if it were possible, that little creature would be dead right now.

The return home wasn't any better. HABIT didn't offer a place for the baby, didn't help him buy a crib, and by sheer luck, the one Steph had left was still there.

In the rooms where you were, HABIT didn't last long. Seeing you gaze at that thing with such love was nauseating and fueled that primal feeling that told him he had to get rid of it. The need for you to be only his was greater than any concern for your happiness—though, let's be honest, did HABIT really care about your happiness?

You were just a sick obsession. It started with Evan and continued with HABIT's desire to make you a perfect victim, but now you were nothing more than a used and defiled body, a reminder of a dead man who had committed as many crimes as he had.

After months, the first time you finally slept in HABIT's bed again, he wouldn't even look you in the eye. "I'm tired." That was all he said when you asked if he was okay.

But in the middle of the night, when you were asleep, sometimes his hand would encircle your neck, barely pressing, not quite able to suffocate you, thinking of ending your life and watching you agonize for betraying him with a mere animal; but he didn't do it, not yet.

He was still so disgusted with you that wasting time killing you felt like a mercy you didn't deserve.

The baby was perhaps the one who suffered the most. Unbeknownst to you, HABIT had been filling that little mind with nightmares that made him cry until he expelled everything from his lungs. His bottle was never quite right, and even when HABIT held him, the child was so strangely calm. To you, it meant that perhaps he felt better in HABIT's arms.

The reality was that even a small child could be affected by him.

It was a twisted game that HABIT was playing simply because he could, because he was the greatest predator, because you belonged to him even if you had given yourself to someone else. That's why, with your body resting in the bed in the bedroom, he got up in the middle of the night, approached the crib to take the baby in his arms and, in an almost mocking gesture, cradled him. "Enjoy the time you have left," HABIT said in a purr almost of morbid pleasure, looking out of the only uncovered window in the house, where a long, shadowy figure watched from outside the house.

And HABIT simply lifted the baby in the same way a man would raise a glass to make a toast, an offering of peace. A bargaining chip.

But before achieving its goal, he would take care of giving you something to replace what was lost; it was only a matter of time.

[swansical]

[bunispectre]

Hiiiii I just went through a break up (ended up on freakishly good terms, like we started laughing our asses off immediately after we spoke)

And I was wondering if we could get Evan's reaction to it all? Preferably male reader !!! And I was thinking about it being pre-HABIT but if you wanna do it after that's completely fine :D

Like for example Reader still talks about his ex and is glad they're still friends. It sounds like he has left over feelings but he actually doesn't, so Evan is a little confused by the entire thing. Especially since in the past reader tends to cut contact immediately after a relationship ends

𝗠𝗶𝘅𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗲𝗲𝗹𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀

pre- HABIT ! Evan. |ㅤmale ! reader.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: I got carried away with this one; you can tell by how fast I wrote it. I hope you enjoy it, anon! 𐔌՞. .՞𐦯

From the moment Evan met you, your relationship habits were clear to him. The friendship between you, which gradually blossomed into a relationship, gave him a pretty accurate understanding of how your relationships worked, and they all usually ended the same way: mutual loss of communication and closure.

Except with the guy you dated before him.

For some reason he didn't fully understand, it was different. You always talked about him, sometimes you even hung out together, and Evan wouldn't admit he was jealous, but he was.

Especially because of the affection with which you spoke about that guy, how you described him as someone with whom you had a special connection—a title that should have belonged to him alone.

The problem was that the breakup had been recent, and you two had started a relationship just a few weeks later. The fear that you might still have lingering feelings was starting to plant seeds of doubt in Evan's mind, something quite noticeable even now as you sat talking to him about your last conversation with your ex. In theory, he was paying attention, but you quickly realized that wasn't the case. In fact, he had his arms crossed and his eyes glued to the television, which he'd already turned up a couple of times.

"Are you okay, Ev? You look tense, and you're not listening to me," you asked, giving him a light nudge in the side. Evan's response, to your surprise, was a grunt of annoyance and a slight movement away, creating a few centimeters of distance on the sofa.

"I'm fine, keep talking. I'm so interested to know how much fun you're having with someone else." He responded, though the sarcasm was so blatant you raised your eyebrows in surprise, a feeling akin to offense rising in your chest, but you took a deep breath.

It was no use, though, because Evan turned up the volume again before you could speak.

You stared at him, mouth agape, before walking over to the TV and unplugging it, holding the cable and crossing your arms right in front of him. "You know what? I can't know what's wrong if you don't tell me."

"Nothing's wrong, keep talking about your friend. I'm interested in what you two do when you're together and I'm not around." Evan exclaimed, revealing the fundamental truth: he thought you hadn't forgotten your ex, even though you were with him.

And you couldn't help but take another breath. Was it partly your fault for giving him mixed signals? Yes, but you hated that Evan assumed things before even asking.

"Ev." You began, taking a seat—not beside him, but directly on his lap. You two were practically the same size, so you forced him to look you in the eyes. "It's not like that, and you know it."

"No, I don't know," he retorted, looking away from you, a mixture of shame and arrogance in his voice. "I don't like this. You usually end things as soon as they're over. I don't believe that you're magically friends now." He explained in a lower tone, though his confusion was palpable.

"But we are, and that's not going to change. I'm with you because I love you, okay?" you explained, running a hand through his hair in an attempt to help him relax.

"I wish it were that easy to believe. I don't even know why you broke up, and now you're running around with the same idiot who was fucking you." Evan said with frustration, though he realized how harsh he was sounding and looked at you apologetically.

You couldn't get completely angry; there was some truth to it. "I guess it's valid, but we broke up because I didn't feel the same way anymore, and I liked you. He understood, and we stayed friends. When we hang out outside, we talk about you, idiot."

Evan stared at you silently, his mouth opening and closing, feeling like an epic idiot. Before he could say anything else, you murmured, "Jealous moron," before kissing him.

He really did feel like a jealous moron now, but at least the confusion was cleared up.

[bunispectre]

𝗧𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁...ㅤ

coach ! Evan who beat any of the other gym instructors to offer you his services because he fell in love with how beautiful you are.

coach ! Evan who really cares about you being healthy. It's not about losing weight, it's just about maintaining good habits; he loves how you look.

coach ! Evan someone who accompanies you to do the shopping for your diet under the pretext that you need help but just wants to spend time with you.

coach ! Evan who has secretly gotten into fights with anyone who makes fun of your appearance.

coach ! Evan who helps you with your exercise routines just to watch your body stretch and bend under the guise of preventing you from getting hurt, but he won't tell you, not yet.

coach ! Evan who knows how much you hate cardio, so I'm inviting you to his place so he can help you find a way to do it.

coach ! Evan who refuses to fuck you even when you beg, he'll make you bounce on his dick if you want to be satisfied. He loves seeing the softness of your body and how full it is on top of his; he adores it and it ignites something primal to see how full of life you are.

coach ! Evan who can't stand it anymore and ends up fucking you until you're out of your mind on his yoga mat, putting your body in positions where he can hit that sweet spot inside your cunt while watching the whole process.

coach! Evan who adds it as part of your routine because "who needs running if you can bounce in it?"

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: because yes I can write gut wrenching angst and be horny about the same dude, I multitask. ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜.ᐟ

[bunispectre]

I have an idea—though maybe not a great one :(

Could you write a scenario where Habit is in love with or obsessed with the reader, and then somehow ends up delivering the reader's baby?

(Meaning, the reader is already pregnant by someone else in the group—like Jeff, Alex, or Vinnie?)

Basically, I’d love to read your take on what Habit would do or how he’d act toward the baby and the reader.

If that’s not too much to ask 😭😭😭

PEAK request ദ്ദി◝ ⩊ ◜.ᐟ I'm definitely going to do it. Definitely from an obsessive point of view, I really like using the theme with HABIT.

[bunispectre]

𝗦𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁

Evan Myers ‎ㅤ|ㅤgn ! reader. 𝗧𝗪: obsessive love, angst + comfort, suggestive content below the cut. 𝗠𝗗𝗡𝗜‎ ૮ ․ ․ ྀིა

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: I was listening to Starlight by Muse and I started thinking about Evan.

Dying should have been the perfect ending.

A pause, a moment of silence, those seven minutes where your life flashes before your eyes before you lose consciousness. A bitter end, sweet in some cases, lonely in most.

In Evan's case, a merciful end that never came; with HABIT gone, or at least dormant, perhaps somewhere waiting for the feeling of normalcy to become a safe space, only to ruin it again with a cycle of violence that Evan could never stop because he lacked the strength. And now, in a lonely house filled with distorted memories of a life he had already lost, he made the decision to start over.

Even if things would never be the same again. And there you were, his only safe haven, a warm and unfamiliar presence, someone who filled the void with an ease that sometimes made him feel guilty.

Evan loved to touch you, to hold you in his arms and absorb your warmth, to take every piece of you like the damned selfish man he was; it was a deep obsession. Even he, deep down, recognized a fundamental and nauseating truth that he refused to accept.

He wasn't different from HABIT at heart; the difference was how human he was, how much he needed and how much he longed to simply take.

But deep down, he was so obsessed, so petty, and he found palpable pleasure in being the center of your world, in seeing you dedicate each day to him. That's why on the nights when he could take pieces of you in intimacy, when your body trembled under his touch and that warmth he had missed so much arrived in caresses, soft words, and tremors, he didn't hold back.

How long had it been since he'd simply been able to exist? How long had he waited to be the one taking for the first time?

Maybe it wasn't healthy, but even on nights when breathing became difficult unless his body enveloped yours, perhaps the fact that he wasn't so different from the monster who had ended his life wasn't so strange. But it was only about surviving, even if his love became suffocating.

Suffocating in the needy and so human way it was no longer normal, not because begging you to stay had ceased to be painful, suffocating because of all those nights when sleeping was an option and sinking his teeth into your skin to leave temporary marks hit even worse than any drug.

But Evan had never truly been gentle, and he knew it. Even now, broken and confused, he would never lose the only thing he had. And perhaps he wasn't afraid to show it anymore; anyway, there was no one there to judge him.

There was no one left to guide him, no one to tell him how wrong he was to place the entire meaning of his life, or what little remained of it, in a single person, how much he wished you would never vanish.

All his hopes, his desires to live in freedom, how he clung to the scent of your perfume and the essence of your life, the expectation of spending his entire life with you absorbed any possibility of returning to normal like a black hole in which his consciousness floated, oblivious to the gravity of the situation.

But everyone he cared about was gone, every life and death that HABIT left in its wake had simply become a path of destiny that led him to you, a revelation born from the loss of his sanity, from his desire to cling to what little humanity he had left by holding you in his arms.

Because you shone brighter than any warning light on his path.