#and I could dwell on it or try to respond but why bother?

[foldingfittedsheets]

Had someone go out of their way to comment “tldr” on one of my story posts like an asshole instead of just continuing scrolling like a normal person.

Frowned at it for a second, then blocked them and smiled. Blocking is so easy and free! Thank you block button.

[desideriumwriter]

i'm thinking about an angry love confession in the quidditch pitch with either of the twins. while it's raining. PLEASE

(also i'm loving anyone but you, i can't wait for the next chapter 😭)

you are a saint for this request, i love you. i live for the dramatics. take this as an apology for the other love confession blurb <3 oh and more aby is on its on its way i pinkyyyy promise!

wc: 761

f.w. masterlist | navi

You were pissed. You’d come out all the way to the Quidditch Pitch by yourself to watch Fred practice, just because he asked you to. Only to end up disappointed and rained on.

Oliver was nice enough today to end practice shorter than usual due to the sudden heavy rain.

Already soaked enough from the run you had to make from the spot you were sitting on the bleachers to underneath them, you crossed your arms as you waited for Fred to get done talking with Angelina.

Soon they parted ways, Angelina stroking his arm as he walked away. The scowl on your face didn’t go unnoticed by Fred once he turned to you.

“You okay?” He walked up to you, broom still in hand and a smile still on his face from whatever humorous conversation he was having.

“Why do you even bother asking me here if you’re just gonna gawk at Angelina the entire time?” You muttered, looking at the wet grass.

“I don’t gawk at her.” Fred scoffed in disbelief. “What’s going on?” He lowered his chin, trying to get a look at your face.

“Whatever, I’m going back to the castle.” You shrugged, arguing with him was like talking to a wall.

“I- What’s the matter with you?” He grimaced, dropping his broom and following you as you went out into the rain. You didn’t respond, only muttering something about wanting to get back to your room.

“Hey, come on, stop. You’re acting all strange.“ Fred grabbed your shoulder, you shrugged him off.

“I’m not gonna let you walk all the way back alone in the rain, you know? You’re worrying me.” He grabbed your shoulder again, this time you whipped around angrily.

“Why do you care? Why don’t you go and continue on flirting with Angelina?” Your words were spilling out your mouth with no control, pure jealousy was spewing out of you.

“Where’s all this come from? What’s your problem?” Fred stuttered a bit, clearly taken aback by your sudden outburst.

“This! This is my problem!” You went on, tearing your hood off your head. Your robes were completely soaked now and doing no help to shield you from the rain.

“I show up to your practices and games every single time you ask, I watch and I wait for you, just for you to go straight over to her!” You exclaimed.

“I’ve been trying to get you to figure it out but you're always busy with your pranks and practice and- and her!” Your voice wavered, yet you were too angry to feel embarrassed yet.

“I thought maybe you’d notice, maybe you’d see, but I can’t keep waiting and hoping while you’re off with someone else! And if I could just tell you then maybe you’d realize!” You blurted out. You were praying the raindrops hitting would disguise the tears that had begun to fall from your eyes.

“Then tell me! What is it?” Fred huffed, frustration in his tone.

You opened your mouth but only a shaky breath came out. You were hesitant and holding back, knowing that if you told him everything between you would go one of two ways.

“Come on, tell me what this big issue is! What?” He pushed one more time, causing you to break.

“I’m in love with you, you git! That’s what!” You yelled, voice slightly cracking. Fred’s face dropped.

The truth was laid bare and the both of you were silent, the pouring rain around you working as ambient noise.

"Say something," you hoarsely whispered. "Please say something." You tried to steady your heaving breath and racing heart, but Fred’s face didn’t help at all.

You felt like an idiot. You closed your eyes, wishing you could go back and have this never happen.

You were ripped out of your self-dwelling once two hands cupped your face and pulled you in. His lips are on yours, the coldness of the rain is replaced by the warmth of his skin, and you absolutely melt into it.

Once you finally broke apart, Freds hands still remained holding your face, making him look at you, his expression had shifted to a softer look.

“I don’t want Angelina, I want you.” His voice was gentle, “She doesn't compare to you. No one does.” He kissed you again, leaving you breathless.

“I don’t understand, if you felt the same, why didn’t you say anything?” You stammered, this was honestly the last thing you expected.

“I didn’t really think you'd be interested in a git like me.” He smiled and shrugged.

tell me what you thought!

[xxresi-rotxx]

Harsher ending- pt 2

I did not get a chance to proof read this as I realized the weekend is ending in one hour 😭 I wanted to write the whole thing in one go but had a rough day and this was all I could muster posting ❤️

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

Ever since Leon's little outburst, you were barely keeping it together. There were so many emotions swirling around your head it was hard to make sense of them. However, the most recent emotion was anger and it lingered with you longer than the rest.

Who the fuck made Leon Kennedy so high and mighty?

You were sure you were giving Leon the ugliest of looks everytime we glanced back at you & Luis.

Him and Ashley were walking about 10 feet ahead of you and Luis, and he kept glancing back at you every five minutes.

Was he truly that convinced you couldn't handle yourself?

It wasn't until Luis said your name for a second time that you realized you had zoned out again.

"He really got under your skin, eh Señorita?"

You finally tore your eyes away from Leon long enough to glance at the man next you, who was grinning like the Chesire cat.

"I just don't understand-"

"What gives him the right. I know, I know mi amor we've been over this." Luis finished for you.

You felt kind of bad, realizing you had been bothering Luis with it for the past hour. You turned your attention on your feet now; watching them as they trudged through the mud.

"I think he's just concerned for you mi amor." Luis nudged his shoulder into yours, easing the tension.

"Yeah, well he has a funny way of showing it if that's the case."

Luis had been calling you 'Mi Amor' ever since you saved his life, and honestly? You didn't mind it.

"The way I see it," Luis began, "he's kind of like a calabaza."

You just stared at Luis, waiting for him to continue.

"I don't remember my high school Spanish Luis." You teased when you realized he wasn't going to elaborate.

"A calabaza is a pumpkin mi amor."

A pumpkin?

"You lost me Luis."

Luis rolled his eyes at you, scoffing a little to emphasize what a hassle it was for to him to explain it to you.

"Hard skin, soft inside."

You let out a harsh laugh but quickly covered your mouth. You were sure Luis was trying to make a point, but it sounded ridiculous to you.

"Kind of nasty Luis." You nudged him with your shoulder this time.

"You get the point Señorita."

Was Leon genuinely concerned for you? Ever the optimist, you wanted so badly to believe Luis, but you just...didn't.

You'd been gripping the pistol Leon shoved at you so hard your knuckles were turning white. Almost as if you were trying to take your anger out on the gun.

Meanwhile, Leon hadn't stopped dwelling on the interaction ever since it happened. Replaying it over and over in his mind. He couldn't help but keep glancing back at you.

You hadn't said a single word to him in almost a day, avoiding him at all costs; and that bothered him.

The sooner he was out of his hellscape, the sooner he could actually speak to you without fear of your impending death, the better.

Every now and then he would hear Luis call you his love and it irritated the hell out of him. It irritated him just as much that you went along with it.

"MI AMOR," Luis's shouts had Leon turning on a dime, "WAIT!"

He turned just in time to see Luis run off the muddy path and straight towards your sprinting figure.

"Ashley." Leon said locking eyes with the blonde.

She understood immediately, moving to hide out of sight as Leon took off.

Why the fuck would you run away?

Leon caught up to Luis in a matter of minutes. You, however, were no where in sight.

"What the fuck happened Luis?!" Leon bit out, unstrapping his knife from its sheath.

"Are you infected?" Luis asked you, panic in his voice.

"No." Leon answered, the gears already turning in his head. "Y/n?" he asked.

"I saw the veins." Luis responded, out of breath. "My old lab could remove the parasite from her though, she didn't have to run."

"Go back and watch over Ashley, I'll find Y/n."

The tone of Leon's voice told Luis there would be no arguing this, so he did as he was told.

Leon wasn't sure whether he was more concerned for your health right now or pissed that you thought running was the best option.

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

Smut in part 3😘

[theconstellationprincess]

Whumptober Day 12: Underground caverns

On an extended trip to visit Durin and his family, Elrond forgoes mentioning the fact that being under the open sky is actually quite important for an elf's health. Durin worries.

-

It started with some fatigue, barely enough to be noticeable to anyone who doesn't know Elrond, doesn't know how to see the glow that constantly surrounds him and recognize when it is fading. Durin does, and so he is concerned when Elrond sits heavily at the table- the one stolen from his High King- and the light has dimmed.

They have been having a wonderful time, during his stay. Elrond gets on exceptionally well with Disa and their children, something that warms Durin's heart to see. He had not said anything about being bothered, but Durin has doubt's that Elrond would speak up if something was bothering him.

20 years ago perhaps, but the elves in Lindon seem to have watered down the fire that used to burn so brightly in Elrond, and he is far more unsure of himself nowadays. Durin keeps a close eye on him throughout the day, and the glow does not fade more, but it does not recover either.

He keeps his mouth shut until the children have been put to bed- dozing off to the soft sound of Elrond's voice as he tells stories about a pair of twins that Durin finds himself enjoying. When it is just the adults left awake, before Elrond can take his leave but after Disa has retired, Durin speaks to him seriously.

"What's bothering ya?" He asks, voice stern as he stares at his old friend. He will not have Elrond suffering in his home, not when their relationship is still tenuous in its renewal. Durin does not want anything to grow between them and push them apart.

Elrond blinks at him, looking earnestly confused as he takes a moment to sift through his thoughts before speaking. "Whatever do you mean? I am perfectly well." But he is not, and Durin can tell by the waver in his voice that Elrond is trying to convince himself as much as he is Durin. Durin sighs and rubs a hand down his face to his beard, stroking it for a moment.

"Yer not glowing like you normally do." Elrond tenses, and Durin frowns because the glow fades even more. He reaches out, though to what purpose he doesn't know, but pauses when Elrond leans away from his hand. There is a dull shine in Elrond's eyes that hints at old pain, and Durin finds himself startlingly out of depth.

"I had forgotten you could perceive it," Elrond mutters, more to himself than Durin, looking down at his lap. Speaking louder, he looks towards During with a smile that does not reach his eyes, "It will be fine, I simply-" Elrond hesitates, looking vaguely ill for a moment. "Require more rest."

"Liar." Durin responds, looking deeply into Elrond's eyes. He softens, at the anxiety he can see clearly as day. "You can tell me, Elrond. I will not be angry with you for being unwell." And he must have hit the nail straight on the head because Elrond flinches and looks away, tense as anything.

A moment of silence passes, and Elrond drops his shoulders from where they'd gone up to his ears. "I need to leave, soon." His voice is very soft, apologetic in a way. "Being away from- Elves are not meant to dwell underground for long periods."

"Visiting us is making you sick?" Durin questions, leaning closer to Elrond. "What- Elrond you should have said something. I can always be the one who makes the trip-"

"I didn't want to impose, and it is fine for short periods but this... this has been pushing it. I only... I do not want to leave, I do not want to have to leave, and it is frustrating." Durin hums and moves so that they are sitting next to each other, thighs flush. Stupid elf- his stupid elf.

"You will leave tomorrow," Durin tells him after a long pause, "And return within a few months." Elrond gives him a weak smile and nods, chuckling wetly.

"I will miss you," He mumbles, fidgeting with his cloak. Durin sighs and pats his thigh.

"We will miss you too, which is why you have to come back soon, or I'll send Disa to drag you back." He threatens, fighting back his own smile when it sends Elrond into soft laughter. They sit in quiet for a little longer, watching the fire burn, until Elrond stands.

"I must rest for the journey tomorrow. Thank you, old friend." Elrond says softly, resting his hand on Durin's shoulder for a moment, and then he is gone.

Durin sighs and heads to his and Disa's bedroom. She is asleep, so he quietly slides in next to her and shakes his head. Elves and dwarves, not compatible by any sense of the word, and yet Elrond remains a true friend to him, albeit one he spends far too much time worrying about.

[yeollie-plz]

Let Me Go

Joel Miller x GN! Reader

Synopsis: Six reasons you wanted Joel Miller and one reason he wouldn't have you.

Genre: Angst, with some fluff for backstory purposes

Warnings: age gap, heart break, cuddling, mentions of fighting

Gif credits to owners!

When you had met Joel, he was this tough guy with a rough exterior. But as time went on there was something warmer about him. Something almost comforting.

This comfort soon turned into reliance and then dependence and sure enough you were in love with the older man. It wasn't just one thing that had led to the fall, actually it was six. You had counted them all, it was exact. Just like his exactly one reason to not have you. The one reason he broke your heart and ignored what he truly felt.

One: Little Gestures

The two of you had met in winter, the snow was falling lightly onto the streets of the Boston QZ. You were freezing, still not used to the chill of the winter air. Not to mention your jacket was thin.

You had met Tess a few times, traded a few things. But you had yet to meet her "guy". This "guy" was Joel, someone she had formed some sort of attachment to. This time Tess had brought Joel along.

He didn't say much, didn't really even make eye contact with you. Instead he sat there, scanning the surroundings.

You shivered slightly as a gust of wind passed the three of you. Not thinking much of it, you continued your conversation. Out of the corner of your eye you noticed something grab Joel's attention as he sauntered off to investigate it.

When he returned, he passed closer to you dropping the jacket that was once donned his shoulders onto your own. Your eyebrows furrowed at the gesture and when you went to question him, he had once again disappeared somewhere. So instead, you gladly accepted the thicker material and its collection of body heat.

You also accepted the flutter in your heart the gesture had given you.

Two: Eyes

Number two was a pair of things: his eyes.

The brown orbs held so much pain, yet every time they passed over5 you there was a softness behind them. It was like he could read everything your mind was trying to tell him. Sometimes they were even trying to scream out to him.

You never needed to bring up the hard stuff to Joel, he just knew. He knew you had pain just like he did. He knew not to dwell on those facts. They were the past and although he didn't see his future he knew yours was as bright as your eyes.

Three: Protector

Tess told you Joel was a protector. He'd do anything for the people he cared about. Even more for those he loved.

"This is why he's so good to have around." She told you. You had always thought there was something between her and Joel. That was until she told you otherwise.

One night you had gotten yourself into a little bit of danger. Some guys were trying to rough you up for some ration cards and luckily Joel happened by the situation. He fought off the men and walked you home.

You were now safely inside your apartment and about to close the door, when Joel held it open with his hand. He looked like something was on his mind.

Neither of you said anything, just held eye contact. Until he finally sighed and let go of your door, leaving.

A few days later you had a meeting with Tess. She brought up the events of that night, apparently Joel had told her. She laughed as she recounted the way he told it.

"I don't know what spell you casted on him but he's entranced with you."

Four: Listener

Joel wasn't much a talked, but he would always listen. You had always had an inquisitive mind. When the world was normal it used to bother your parents and friends, even your teachers sometimes.

But all your questions never seemed to bother Joel. He would sit and listen to them all, even when he didn't have the answers. Even when there was no answers to be given!

And in the rare times he did know a thing or two he would respond, gaining a huge smile from you.

These were the times his heart fluttered.

Five: Cuddles

I know what you're thinking! Joel Miller, a cuddler? You didn't believe it either. But after one particularly long night, you had both fallen asleep on his couch.

There was still a bit of a chill in the air, so naturally your body had gravitated closer to his in search of some warmth.

You were never sure whether it was a conscious decision or not but by the time you woke up the two of you were intertwined together. And this became a habit of yours.

Even when it was no longer cold out, the two of you would cling to each other.

Six: Pretending

After a few months of hanging more with Joel and Tess, they invited you to meet Bill and Frank. It was nice to get out of the QZ and have a normal meal like the whole world wasn't a complete shit show.

At one point you had found yourself inside with only Frank. You had insisted on helping to wash the dishes. While scrubbing a plate, you had caught a glimpse of Joel through the window. Craning to get a better look, you smiled to yourself. All of a sudden Frank laughed, causing you to look over at him.

"What?" You questioned.

"You two are so in love with each other and neither of you see it. It's just funny."

Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could contest, Joel walked into the kitchen.

"Why don't you two go and chat with Bill and Tess? I'll finish this up." He suggested, holding eye contact with you.

Joel wouldn't take no for an answer and ushered the two of you outside. Only to stop you before you made it out the door. He bent down and tied your shoe lace, you hadn't even noticed it had come undone.

Across the room you heard a throat clear and your eyes met Frank's. He gave you a knowing look, mouthing a "see".

One: Heart

The very foundation of a human is their heart. If it stops beating, you no longer have a living being. Only a body.

Joel told you once that his heart had stopped beating a long time ago. And when he was about to leave he told you again.

"I haven't had a heart in years. I haven't felt anything in years. Only pain. Only desperation. But I met you and I had felt my heart beating again. It skipped a beat or two a few times." He let out a small laugh before continuing.

"But I'm not what you deserve. I'm not what you need. I've lived a life and yours is barely starting. You have a beating heart, mine is more like Frankenstein, stitched together."

You couldn't help but to correct him, "Frankenstein was the scientist."

He took a deep breath in, "Then I'm the monster and you're Frankenstein, you stitched me back together."

"But I don't understand, if I've done all this for you, why are you leaving?"

"I can't watch your heart stop beating because of me!" He almost shouted at you.

"You leave and it will stop!" Okay, you were shouting. Grabbing his shirt, pleading him to make eye contact with you.

"I need you to let go. Let me go, Y/N." Finally his eyes met your own and you knew that the man you had fallen in love with was no longer yours.

You had six definitive reasons why you loved Joel Miller, but he had only needed one to leave.

[glaciertea]

Masterlist here

Tales the Songs Weave

Ch.21<< >>Ch.23

CW: Spoilers for ATSV, Speculation for BTSV attempt at action. Re-uploaded because it kept getting cut-off.

Chapter 22: Oh, We Get What We Deserve

Word count: 16.6K

Miguel was in his element. He jumped right back into his main priority, the multiverse. This is where he needed to have his head. Focused with no other distractions. 

It's been nearly a week and a half since you two had your culminating goodbyes, and things have been slow.

You text here and there, saying basic things like ‘have a good day at work,’ or ‘I hope they don't give you a hard time today,’ but as engaging in conversations, that's how far you both would go. There was this seemingly laid-out threshold where you two neither dared to cross nor bothered to try and reach.

And he wasn't going to be one to complain.

Short and simple. That's how it was going to continue until that eventual cutoff was guaranteed to happen—until one of you blatantly dissolves into that obscurity. And Miguel was nudging on being the one to whiter away from your mind first.

He would deliberately seem disinterested in any topic you possess by giving one or two words or reading your messages, but he would take hours to respond back. Very rarely, he wouldn't even bother to respond.

He was seeking to speed up the process for you because he knew you would never leave his mind.

As long as that video replays in the corner of his monitor, you will truly never vacate his inner hellscape, which he's forced to call memories. As long as your smile stays on that screen, he will never let go.

Sure, it wasn't that long, but he grasped onto it, denying any unshackling from those moments of a pure domesticated life. That normality he was deprived of once again. That love was snatched right beneath him.

But now there was no time to dwell on it anymore. It was another cog in this machine to keep operations moving along. The other reminder is why Miguel has to keep doing what he's doing.

The spiders did take notice of how weirdly his mood had one-eighty. Well, his tenor was definitely the same brooding, agitated, and spiteful man, but to a lesser degree. It was as if his former self found its way back, and that started a new slew of the telephone game.

The canon was still intact. Things were back on track. Things were back to normal.

This is what Miguel kept trying to convince himself.

Even though he himself had his head in the game, there was still a problem suspended right over him. The anomalies still weren't seeing a decrease in activities, and there was always some sort of stirring commotion in the HQ because of the rampant villains in these universes.

And that fucking itch. This postulating clairvoyance that was supposed to vanish by now. Yet, here it still was.

Now something was wrong. Obviously, something is very, very wrong.

You aren't in the picture anymore, and he's rushing the process of having you forget him. His events are okay, so what the hell could be going on? The pricking tingles of all he has to deal with creep onto him, burying him until he finds the who, what, when, why, and how.

He made the right choice; he did. Why must he keep searching for more? What is still causing this? When will it exactly cease?

He couldn't have been wrong. No. It probably needed to completely pass by. It's still fresh. That's all there is.

That had to be it.

Three more days went by, and Miguel was chest deep into the multiverse, swiping around, his eyes scanning at a lightning pace.

Today was chillingly silent. Not the average; everyone is happily doing their own thing and merely not disturbing him with non-related work inconveniences or assigning missions. 

No. There was something more to it. It was particularly harrowing that the other universes were oddly calm, and he tried to ignore that there was weirdly nothing happening as best he could. It was only a slow day.

“Lyla.”

She began to pixelate in front of him by having bits of cubes scramble to fully form her. “What's up? Also, did you like that? I've been working on new ways to fancify my entrance.”

“It's fine. I need a check on the activities of anomalies.” He said it in the most monotonous, yet serious, way possible.

She huffed at that lackluster answer. “Really? I could get a bit more praise than that. And aren't you already sort of doing that?”

His stony attitude wasn't changing. “I need to make sure there aren't any hidden infiltrations that I'm not seeing.”

Lyla blipped away before reappearing a second later. “Nope. All good.”

“You barely checked.”

“I did check. We're all good to go; there's not a single incident happening at this moment.”

“Check again.” He turned his back to the screens, making Lyla's eyes roll all the back in her digital skull with an annoyed groan teaming in.

“I've already checked! What is there more to look at?”

“Lyla. I'm not saying it again.” He hissed out as his temper began to steam.

“Jeez, were you always this crotchety? I miss that period when you were actually pleasant on some days. Then again, your mind was preoccupied with her–”

Lyla clamped her jaw shut as she was met with those flaring and infuriated scarlet eyes. She knew not to break that barrier. She would mess with him on a lot of things, but even she was aware of the limitations. 

She decided to do what she was commanded to do and conduct a precise inspection. “So far, I'm seeing nothing. We are all clean for today, or just in the moment.”

Rudely dismissing her, he combed his hand through his hair. There is clearly something he is missing, and it's irking him to the extreme now. A sense of paranoia was sinking right into his skin.

No one stepped into his office for most of the day except E-616 Peter, who badgered him about some banal issues. And mostly to check in on him, with the added obscene ramblings.

“You should come back for dinner sometimes. It was nice having some other company. I haven't done that since Harry... Anyways! You have to have MJ's stuffed ravioli; those things are so delicious!”

Miguel didn't catch the rest as he tuned him out, grunting whenever he went on much longer than he would've liked. But, when he asked about how things were going with you, Miguel's brain promptly blanked before his eyes darted to the screen, toying with the thought of pulling the video up.

He glanced down at his phone, reaching to grab it, when a hand was placed on his shoulder. He swung at whatever was attempting to harm him.

“Hey, hey! It's just me, buddy. I was calling your name, but you wouldn't answer. I'm assuming things are a bit…” Peter chewed on the inside of his cheek, locating the right word, “Arduous?”

“We're reverting back to strangers. It's a bit difficult, but she seems to understand.” Miguel typed on the screens, keeping an eye out for any sort of suspicious occurrence. 

"Well, that's good. I think? At least it was mutual. Right?” 

“Yeah.”

Peter held his tongue and patted his friend's back. He understood that there was nothing more to be said, and he let Miguel be.

Solitude was back in Miguel's bubble, and he didn't know what to do anymore. 

Things were too stifled and peaceful for his liking. That strong urge was chewing at him, not having a plan of evacuating.

He kept searching and searching when he received an incoming call from one of his favorite Peters, E-13122. It seemed as if things were getting back on track. He could get anyone on it, but picking out the right one was the tricky part. 

It's most likely another villain of the week.

“Don't just stand there, Jess. Who would be a good candidate for this?”

Jess crossed her arms before leering down at her watch. “Did you exactly see which dimension the anomaly was originally from?”

Miguel whipped his head back to the orange-glow monitor when his heart dropped into his stomach. 

Oh no. 

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Oh no.

No. No. No. No.

There was no way. It couldn't have been; there had to be some kind of mistake. But no matter what he did, no matter what files confirmed it, no matter what other information he received, that number did not change. Those four measly yet twisted numbers alarmed Miguel to no end.

“Should I be the one to tell her?” Jess placed her hands on her hips, slightly wary about what's to come.

His sight did not leave that monitor.

E-1610. 

There it was, in the clear flesh. The odds should have been high. There should have been no chance, but there it was, wickedly jeering at him in all its misfortune.

“You promised her, Miguel. This will be a good time to see that she is capable of doing these things by herself. This would be good for her.”

The fact that he even made that promise was the worst thing he's ever done. He didn't even know why he did it in the first place.

As if you heard through the other side, your laughter flowed in his ears, and that's when he remembered the ‘compromise’ conversation you two had at the park. He didn't take heed of the small chunk of influence you had on him. Well, small is the loose terminology. You had a… moderate influence on him.

Yeah, that was it.

Jess's eyes drooped. From the weariness of her pregnancy, her boss, and stress, all of them combined to create a concatenation of a migraine. 

“Let her try, Miguel. And if it makes you feel any better, I will survey her from afar. I'll make sure she doesn't get too close.”

“Bring her in.” He didn't turn around; his eyes were still fixated on the earth number.

It was simple. A simple task anyone can do. 

Gwen was ecstatic that she could finally go visit him, but she had to keep her cool. Miguel gave her the rundown. Go in, observe what the anomaly was devising, and secure it before any havoc comes to fruition.

“And if I take care of it in record time, I'm allowed to go visit, right?”

“The spider cam is attached to your watch, so there is no need to worry about that.” Miguel sent her extra details so she could cross-reference them.

“That wasn't what you told me when we came to an agreement. You said, if there was an anomaly in his universe, I could–”

“You could go to the earth only if an anomaly was in his world. Yes. I did say that. But I never told you you were allowed to visit him.”

Gwen threw her arms up and huffed out a heated breath. 

“That isn't fair! You can't keep me from my friend. Why am I not allowed to see him? Why are you so afraid of me visiting Mil-”

“You know why. You are dismissed. No further questions or comments. Now leave before I change my mind.”

Miguel pretended not to see the daggers she was giving or the middle finger when she stomped out of his office. She knows the rules and the repercussions that will follow if she were to try anything, but Jess made it clear that she will handle it all.

He was skeptical about it but decided to put his trust in her hands.

As minutes passed by and there was contact between neither Jess nor Gwen, Miguel checked on the spider camera to view the location where she was scoping out. It was a regular brick apartment building; maybe it held some significance.

The more and more he stared at the apartment, the more and more he thought of you. He checked the last message you sent nearly two hours ago.

‘I hope the day goes well for you and they don't give you too much crap. I really do. Remember, you are still allowed to be you.’

Even after all of that and the agreement, you still found it in your heart to be respectful towards him. He started to respond before getting lost in the message. His thumb kept going and going when he startled himself, gawking at the paragraph he nearly sent.

He reread it, inwardly flinching at how grateful he was to hear those words and how he's grateful to hear from you in general. How you're one of two who wants to be in his corner, and how he's sorry for letting things get the way they did.

Aggressively shaking his head, he backspaced every word and kept up with the distance charade.

‘Thank you.’ 

He was writhing in misery when he pressed the send button. Setting the phone down, he placed his hands on his head and stayed this way for a minute.

Eventually, he was rewatching both his osita and his luna. His little bear and moon.

A smile crept up on his face—those fond remembrances. He misses her. He misses you.

No one will ever go through this. No one will ever have to worry about the incidents. No one will ever have to worry about a world thinning away.

That's what he was trying to prevent. That's what his entire purpose is, and no one would take that away.

Until she did.

No words could rightly convey the wrath that was brewing in and out of Miguel.

He went berserk.

She slipped up. She messed up. He fucked up.

He blamed her. He blamed them both. He blamed himself for letting such a deplorable measure slip through the cracks—through his claws.

Jess's rookie decided to go rogue and strayed so far off the beaten path that it's highly invisible to the naked eye.

All Jess had to do was supervise her little lackey for a short amount of time. That was it. But no, she had to instill that twinge of trust in her. She granted that crumble of bread, and unsurprisingly, Gwen scarfed it down in one go. She was given that inch, but she didn't merely go for the mile. 

Oh, no, no.

She snatched that inch and decided to go for the Miles.

A canon event was disrupted because of her. The event was disrupted because of him. The original anomaly.

He didn't know what to do; he precisely knew he had to fix it. As always. He had to get a handle on himself. He came up with a proposal on how to combat this irrevocable disaster that he had to impose on the world.

All because he wanted to be the hero. All because he got in the way. This domino effect needed to end and be stopped before more innocent civilians became hurt or worse due to his recklessness.

He stared at the multitude of screens displaying ‘Canon Event Disrupted’ and the footage of him stopping it. The footage shows Gwen trying to steer him away but failing. How could he do this? How would he do this? A fear of his is coming back, all because she couldn't let go; she couldn't simply move on.

That's when her smile showed once again. Your smile. He blinked. What would you have said to this? What would you have done? How would you tell him to go about something as devastating as this?

He thought back to the first night he took you to his apartment, that night when you told him it's okay to show vulnerability and ask for help. How we all rely on each other from the smallest to the biggest of things.

And right now, this is no tiny matter.

He began to contact spiders—anyone who would be willing to step in. Spectacular, Peni, Riley (sadly), and the main one. Peter B..

You didn't have that much jurisdiction over him. You didn't. But to make sure, he placed your recording away in a file and scanned the others, awaiting their arrival.

He was doing this for you. For them. Everyone.

He decided to upscale the video of him and his osita. He had everything rehearsed and took some deep meditation breathing beforehand. With a curve of a smile, he continued on viewing until his face dropped when he heard them—him— getting closer. 

He ran everything back through his mind. Miguel was doing everything in his power to not lash out and start fulminating right then and there. He had to keep himself semi-calm. Enough for him to listen and fully understand the damages he has caused once again.

He had to keep a cool head. This time he won't mess up; this time all will line up exactly. He won't stumble over this like he did with you. And maybe he'll be like you. Sure, it didn't go initially as intended in the first round, but you seemed to apprehend the concept of what it meant in the second.

“Miguel O'Hara, meet Miles Morales.”

He didn't need an introduction to that. He was very well versed in his existence.

Yet, with that simple introduction, that's when everything would begin to take a plummeting nose dive. It didn't help that Peter brought May, despite Miguel specifically asking him not to. Typical, Peter. 

He tried to repeat a mantra in his head, but the way things kept going, it wasn't going to be that easy.

Miguel strived to get Miles to understand. To warn him and prevent any more detrimental possibilities from happening.

Maybe he should have shown the explanation to you. It would've made things easier. But that's the past now.

It was supposed to be falling smoothly into place. He really wanted him to comprehend.

“Miles. We all want to live the life we wish we had.” Miguel's mind snapped to Gabi. “Believe me, I have tried.” Then it went to you.

“And the harder I tried, the more damage I did. You can't have it all, kid.” He wanted to disassociate. The hardship and grief he piled on the ones he loved. He desperately wants to hold his little bear and moon.

But he has to persevere. This is what they signed when they took on that job and that responsibility. Those sacrifices.

Miles wasn't taking it well, but Miguel had to confine him. 

He will learn, even if it's the hard way. He's going to have to.

Or so he thought, until Miles decided to break free from the light cell and dash, sending most of the spiders on a wild goose chase throughout his HQ. It was bothersome how no one could catch this one kid.

Miguel has to do everything.

He nearly had him, but he leapt straight out of a window. Now for Miguel, it should be much easier to capture him. He's not in his little kingdom of cluttered buildings. No, he's in his territory. 

His empire.

They go and go until they end right in the underbelly, a drastic flop compared to the pristine estate above. Miguel really hates going down to this slimy area for a few reasons, but right now, his priorities are centered on him.

No one still can catch him, and Jess and Peter were bickering over pointless shit on who is a terrible mentor or whatever, and they weren't getting any step closer to catching Miles.

Miguel has to do everything.

It was irritatingly frustrating to Miguel that he wouldn't stop moving. Miguel is pissed off, but now it's reaching a point that even he didn't know he could reach. But he doesn't give a single goddamn care.

He snatched the day-pass off. That should certainly slow him down. Right? Miguel was grasping at any straws at this point. He began to climb up the shuttle, his heated anger festering more and more.

“Dude, are you sure you're even Spider-Man?”

How dare this anomaly question his ability of being Spider-Man? He already questioned his authority and reasoning for trying to keep his universe safe, but essentially insulting who he is vexed Miguel.

He wasn't going to lose. He couldn't. Miguel chased and chased.

“You're an anomaly!” 

You're an anomaly. Every blissful moment he spent with you, he purposely turned that blind eye. 

But he's not you. 

Miguel was done. The original anomaly tested his patience for the last fucking time.

“You're not supposed to be Spider-Man!

“You're lying; I am Spider-Man!”

Then why question if Miguel was? He is. He is Spider-Man.

Miguel is done.

Miles needed to hear this. He needs to listen, and if he refutes, then fine, so be it; Miguel will get it through his thick skull.

“You're a mistake!” Like all the others he has caused.

Miguel went on and on. His Peter died saving this anomaly. They would've lived. It would still have been there. None of it would've been destroyed.

They only died because he wanted to save her. 

You would've died if he hadn't done what he did.

He couldn't do it again with you. None of that should've happened.

“And all this time, I have been the only one holding it all together!”

That's all he's able to do. Everything, everything, always falls back to him. He has to carry this weight. 

His mind flashes through the memories of Gabi. Baking cookies and cupcakes, watching her football matches, taking care of her hair while she ate breakfast while watching cartoons. She was so happy, brighter than the sun.

His mind flashes through memories of you. The chats that went on until the late nights, snuggling close and listening to records, enjoying the lyrics and vocals doing the talking for you two. The jazz lounge date and the trips to the botanical garden. You always managed to glow even more when you were near those flowers. 

He has to be the one to save them all. The others don't know he has too much for them.

But why can't he sacrifice for the ones that really matter? Those billions matter, sure. But they aren't them. 

They're not her. They're not you.

“You don't belong. You never did.”

You didn't belong. You didn't.

He didn't belong in her life. He didn't belong when she died in his arms. He didn't belong in your life.

Who cares if this isn't what they had planned? Who cares? He doesn't care; he doesn't want to care.

Miguel's brain was in a frenzied state.

He claims he isn't a kid, but he's wrong.

They never know. They think they know, but they don't. He knows. He has seen it; he has lived it. He wanted to live again; he wanted the normality and the love you and Gabi granted him. He needed it so badly, but he knew. He knew he could never do it again.

Why couldn't he? Why couldn't he?

Why does this anomaly get to live scot-free? Living it without a shred of fear or care in the world? He doesn't know. He doesn't know.

Miguel doesn't know. He. Doesn't. Know.

But Miles somehow does. No one was guarding the HQ. He was going to be outsmarted by a child; he was going to be humiliated.

Red was all he saw; he couldn't escape. They couldn't send him back. But they did. And now he is gone.

He tried your advice; he tried to talk; he tried to have patience. But now Miles has forced his hand.

It was his fault. It was all his.

Gwen tried to doubt him. Doubting if they were the good guys. 

They were. He is. You said it yourself that he was a good guy. He is a good guy, and he's doing what is right.

They stepped into his world.

He had Ben and Jess search as Miguel eyed all the places that Miles would usually frequent, constantly checking in if they spotted anything. He wasn't going to be bested.

“Jess, any signs of Miles? Or any sort of activity in that area?”

She debated telling him what she heard and saw on Miles's rooftop, but held her tongue and pretended to feign ignorance. “Only his parents. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

"Well, keep searching. Call for more backup! Do not stop!” Miguel punched a hole through a steel beam and called up Ben for the sixth time. He didn't understand why he suddenly put his watch on silent during a fatal time such as this. 

“Ben! I will have your head served on a silver platter if you don't respond!” He left the searing voice memo, webbing himself around what seemed to be some type of school.

Searching for a specific room, he crawled up a wall, peeking into a dormitory. There was a bunk bed, a shared room, and some kid with headphones in, typing away on a laptop while eating a bag of chips.

Centering his watch, it began to scan the room, a yellow grid flashing the area before a flaming red ‘negative’ popped up on the screen.

The teen paused, swiveling over to the window and slightly cracking it open.

“And he wonders why I refuse to be his guy in the chair.” The boy mumbles and slams it shut, going back to whatever he was doing.

Miguel checked for the next area. His claws were spiking into the side of the building, and his back was pressed against it. He thought about going in there to interrogate his friend. A nice and friendly chat on the whereabouts of his roommate and the concerns about finding him to fix everything before everyone dies due to Miles's impetuous judgment.

His contemplation was beginning to become a reality as he reached for the sill, right for the opening, when he received an incoming call from Jess.

“You better tell me you found him, or hang up and stop wasting time.” He snarled at his second in command, praying for good news and only good news.

The rain was starting to slow down, but it still held that battering from each drop onto Miguel's suit.

“I was going to ask if you got in contact with Ben. I can't seem to get a hold of him. Did he go awol?” He could hear her on her motorcycle, heading somewhere.

“I can't get him either, and it's pissing me off.” He scaled up the school's dormitory structure until he was perched on top of the roof. “Where are you? You better not be taking a joyride.”

Jess bit her tongue to hold back any sarcastic comments, not wanting to deal with him even more than now. “I'm coming near you. I feel like we need to regroup and think of a proper plan instead of running around like chickens with their heads cut off.”

She hoped that her idea could get through his adamant search party for one kid in an entire city.

“No! We need to stay split up! He could be anywhere, Jess, and if we were to stick together, the more chances he'll have to escape. Did you and Lyla get others to look in different dimensions?”

That's what she was afraid of. She was prepared for that answer, but it still weighed down that he was so keen on sticking to this one-minded game plan. 

“Yes, and each one has been non-affirmative. Miguel, I really think we need to come back and rethink this whole thi-”

“I'm not stopping, Jess; not until he is found, we do not stop. Get more spiders to seek him out. We need to stop him before he reigns down a massacre on this world.”

“Miguel, sending out more people isn't going to help. Ben is gone, and we are utterly lost.” She was going to regret her next words, but they needed to be done. “I'll meet you near the Williamsburg Bank Building. We can discuss more and get a better grounding of-”

“I'm not going. I'm checking out this underground location that he frequents. I'm not stopping to play your silly games, Jess.”

Jess screeched her motorbike and placed her hands to her mouth in a prayer. “Lord, give me strength,” she mumbled toward the sky. Her agitation was skyrocketing when she decided to stick with her plan of reassembling.

“Perfect. I'll meet you there, and we can talk. See you in five.”

Before he could refute, she clicked off so she wouldn't have to deal with the backlash. She could handle his temper tantrums in person rather than going back and forth over the watch.

Miguel roared out, bashing into an air vent. That was the problem; no one ever listens to him. He has his ways and particular steps, but they always have to diverge and veer off onto another track.

He wished they were like you. You heard him out. You always did.

He shook his head at going down that path.

He followed the directions that eventually led him down an abandoned subway tunnel. Jumping over a wired fence, he continued down a long corridor until he finally reached the end, greeted by a few lights buzzing overhead.

“The kid is talented.” Jess leaned back on the bench, examining each detail of the drawn figures.

“Did you see any signs of him? Anything?” Miguel had no care for these useless paint splatters on the wall. He's only here for one thing, and if it weren't here, then he's ready to move on to the next.

Jess shook her head, never once removing her gaze from the enthralling and stunning mural. She was highly impressed. “You know, I used to do art when I was younger. It only lasted for about a year back in my early teens. I was consistent with it until I fell off because I gave myself such a bad artist cramp. Who knew you needed breaks in between?” She chuckled to herself before finally tearing her eyes away to stare at her piqued boss.

“Your museum trip is done. We're through down here.” Miguel leered at the wall before huffing out at it all.

Jess squinted at him, then turned back straight-faced to the art. “Peni, Noir, Porker, and his uncle. Peter B..” Her eyes jetted toward her rookie. “Gwen.”

He ignored her and began to leave, not bothering to deal with this.

“It makes you forget that he's only a teen with hobbies and interests. Family and friends.” Jess caught him freezing in her peripheral view, her mind racing at the mutuals that the supposed anomaly spray-painted to dedicate the ones he cares for. 

“What are you trying to allude to?”

“I'm alluding to nothing, if that's what you're speculating.”

He whipped his body around and marched up to Jess, his outstanding height covering her. She gave a sidelong glance before clicking her tongue.

He wasn't going to have anyone try to convince him that what he's doing is unjust. Or try to get him to sympathize with someone who is attempting to destroy an entire universe.

“I don't know what you're thinking, but you better let it go and think about the real reason we're here.” He pointed his finger at Jess, who gave an incredulous look in return. “I said we were through here. Let's get back to the task at hand and–”

They glanced up as the ceiling began to rumble. Dust clouds rained down before dispersing when it reached them. They scrunched their eyebrows at the suddenness. Miguel began to talk when the shaking seemed to increase.

“Is this New York on a fault line?” Jess slowly stood, standing her guard. 

“Not that I'm aware of.” Miguel spun back and forth and held a distorted frown when it stopped again.

“We should probably head back up. I'll alert Be-”

Jess nearly lost her balance when Miguel caught her. The ground underneath them began to rock vigorously as pebbles and chunks of concrete broke and smashed as they dodged the debris left and right. 

Wasting no more time, they darted back to the entrance, where an influx of citizens flocked their way down into the already overcrowded area, blocking their exit.

“¿Qué diablos?” He noticed the terror on the people's faces as they shouted and squirmed over one another, creating a chaotic stampede going who knows where.

“A villain?” Jess yelled over the panicked individuals, trying not to get pushed down.

“Likely!” He took hold of her arm and went against the current as more scrambled in.

“These people are going to cause a crowd crush or fall onto the track! We need to–” 

Before Jess could finish, Miguel flung himself up one of the support beams, climbing up, before dangling on the ceiling.

“Hey!” He called out as loud as he could, but no one seemed to stop. “Hey! Stop before someone gets hurt!” He roared out, but there was still nothing. Now his patience was worn thin. 

He fragmented a light as a small section went dark and bits of glass shards rained down. Jess placed her hands over her face in utter disbelief as heads snapped up towards the loud sound. 

“¡Todos ustedes necesitan calmarse y escuchar! Give each other space before someone gets severely injured!” He commanded for all to hear. There were some whispers asking if that's Spider-Man, wondering when he got a new suit, and when did he suddenly become big and buff.

They all complied and began to try to give each other some sort of space. It was difficult at first, but they managed to give a couple inches. Jess guided people before crawling up the wall herself, garnering more whispers about their being a Spider-Woman, let alone a pregnant one. 

“Now, we need you all to stay relaxed and tell us what is going on.” Jess eyed the corner to make sure no others would run in.

“There's this villain out there!”

“But it's not like anyone we've ever seen!”

“It's like some dark figure of matter!”

“I thought it was the Green Goblin. Boy, how wrong was I?”

“Definitely wasn't a Banksy.”

The voices all began to talk over each other as Miguel and Jess looked at each other before another powerful tremor hit. Several people stumbled into the track when a loud horn was heard.

“Oh, you have to be kidding!” Jess growled before they both leapt into action.

Miguel shot out his webs, wrapping them around the steel beams to prevent others from falling in. Looping the lasers around until it formed a thick barrier, Jess flipped to the other side, grappling and shooting her netting around three people, yanking them up and across the webbing as the crowd helped catch them.

The horn blared, inching its way, as Jess quickly roped three more, flinging them towards the platform. “Miguel! I need help!”

Jess managed to hurl four more, but the last one was stuck; their pants leg caught onto something.

“Help! Hurry! Please help!” The person cried out, trying to free themselves, but their hands were sweaty. Jess leapt down with them, quickly trying to help, as the light from the train drew near.

“I'm going to rip it!”

“I don't care! Hurry!”

The gleam closed in, and the noise blared in their eardrums as the crowd shrieked when a red and blue blur flew in front. The train passed by as people looked down for any traces of blood, horrified when someone pointed up. Miguel was hanging above, as Jess and the other person were gripping on tight.

There were a few seconds of silence before the mass burst out in cheers. The two crawled their way back, with Miguel holding the figure in tow, and dropped them with the others.

“Thank you, uh, Spider-Man. Uh, Spider-beings.” The individual waved before the subway station wobbled, throwing people against the mesh.

“We need to get going. Now.”

Jess nodded, listening to the uproarious rally and giving them words of encouragement to stop that villain. She sensed they may need more than simple motivation. 

Finally making their way out, they were immediately frozen.

Devastation wreaked havoc as cars, trucks, and more were torn in half or flung all over, with more citizens running amok in horror as buildings were covered in voids of black holes or bits crumbling down. Fires blazed around, with several fire hydrants spewing out geysers of water.

The earth beneath cracked, and the city was in absolute peril. It was the end of the world.

Jess's motorcycle screeched in front of her as she climbed on. “What the hell? What villain managed to cause all this?”

Miguel climbed to the side and examined the surrounding destruction. “We're about to find out.”

Jess weaved and swerved her way through the traffic of cars and floods of distressed people when they caught up to a floating jet-black form, seemingly sucking up the objects around before launching out a couple of cars or concrete slabs.

“Is… Is that–?” Jess's eyes stretched all the way to make sure she was seeing it properly.

“Jess! Watch out!”

“What?”

A chunk of residential infrastructure came barreling down towards them, and citizens were caught in the crossfire. Miguel leapt off her bike, his fist back, before punching it into millions of tiny pebbles. Slamming down on his feet, he was met with a hostile, enraged Jess.

“Miguel! Didn't you tell us you had a handle on the Spot?!” Jess circled her motorcycle on the sidewalk, vigilantly eyeballing the monstrosity reeking sheer pandemonium across Miles's universe.

“I did!”

“This doesn't look like it's been handled!”

The two began to wrangle civilians from being hurt by more falling debris. The screaming and hysteria from them rang deathly in his ears as he found an unoccupied area to place them.

“Miguel, I swear to God, if you had us chase after this boy without sending someone to go after that!”

“I told you I—”

“I told you that this,” she viciously pointed a finger at the voided beast. “That this was a looming threat! Lyla told you this was a threat, but you lied and insisted we go after a fucking kid?!”

She revved her bike when pieces of metal and bricks began to rain down onto the exposed, zipping back and forth, using her webs to create a net, along with Miguel roping his around lampposts to hold the scraps.

“Where the hell is Ben?!”

“Ben is the least of our worries. Hundreds, if not thousands, will die, Miguel! We need backup. Call off the search for Miles and get others on this!”

“No! If he comes here, then it won't just be thousands dying, Jess! It'll be billions!”

Jess raised her arms at her frivolous boss. She honestly couldn't believe the words that were coming out of his mouth. But after all that transpired, she sadly could.

Dropping the pile of weight with a soft thud, Jess started up her vehicle. “Miguel, I'm not about to sit here and watch innocents die because of a canon that hasn't even taken place yet. So you're either helping me or you can stay out of my way.”

Spiteful and grim eyes stared right into Miguel's veiled face. A showdown on whose plan of action, or lack thereof, was the correct choice.

“... Fine. But the minute I see him trying to break it, you are on your own.”

Jess's discreet glare never left him as he mounted on the side once more and sped off towards the Spot.

He was on a rampage. He appeared as if he were increasing in size with each inanimate object being lurched into him. Many PDNY automobiles bordered the monster as they feverishly conversed with one another on how to exactly go back about this. Helicopters flew above, also searching for an angle of attack or news reporters striving to keep viewers updated.

“This is crazy. He's going to wreck most of Brooklyn at this rate. Does anyone know what he wants?” A tall man with broad shoulders shouted out to his colleagues, but none could give an answer.

“Right, of course. Have any other civilians been evacuated from this section?”

“Yes sir. The area has been thoroughly checked and cleared.” One moved closer to the man before inclining inward. “And still no sign of your son, Jeff.”

His face dropped, anxious with every passing minute, but he knew he had a city to protect. “Okay. Right. I can't believe I'm about to say this. Let's try to negotiate with this abomination and go from there. Lower its guard and detain it as soon as possible!”

“I don't think having a lovely conversation with that thing is going to help.”

Jeff took a few steps back, raising a taser at the new and low voice. It was a lofty man in a costume and a pregnant woman on a motorcycle. He took note of how they managed to get to the frontlines and which officers would have a long, stern talk about this.

“All citizens need to vacate this area immediately. Especially you, ma'am.” Jeff nodded his head towards Jess, praying that this ginormous man in front was trying to cope with the dangerous crisis by pretending to be Spider-Man.

“Thanks, but we'll take it from here.” Jess bent forward on her bike, revving it, ready to leap over the safety barricades. “You all get to safety!” Jess didn't bother to look back before speeding off and hopping over the barriers, veering left and right.

“Hey! Hey! Stop her! Look, right now you and your partner, or whoever she is, need to stop and leave. This is a highly threatening situation, and–”

“As the woman said, we'll take it from here, captain. Just stay on alert if we need you close by.” Miguel held his arm up, and out came a laser web as he grappled on a structure and swung himself to keep up with Jess.

“There's another. Of course, there had to be a second Spider-Man. Of course!” Jeff dragged his hand down his face and groaned. “Sanchez! Get more on this and have them follow those two.”

Jess nearly evades a box truck being casted in her direction and steers her motorcycle adjacent to Miguel, who was trying to handle the clusters of the decrepit premises. “Miguel, do you have a plan on how to stop this?”

“I was hoping you had something.” He jumped to the ground and decided to run alongside her.

“I did have something. It was named ‘call for any type of backup.’” Jess scanned for an opening to lasso down the Spot without putting the helicopters in harm's way. Miguel gave a disapproving grunt at that unnecessary comment.

Coming to a halt. Jess scoped out the perimeter and gazed up. “I got something. But I'm going to need a distraction.”

One of Miguel's eyes lifted from his mask, waiting to hear this scheme. “You're going to wrestle him to the ground, or close to it, so I can knock him out and we can strap him down.”

He squinted at that, but she returned it with a wry frown. “I'm not hearing anything from you, and you already shot down my other idea, so we have to work with what we have.”

He teared his leer from Jess onto the nightmare creature and sighed out. Leaping at the adjoining buildings, struggling to keep them from collapsing, he clawed his way up, stealthily staying out of hindsight. Jess hunted for the best weapon to use, informing Miguel over the watch when it'd be the best time to strike.

“I need you to stall for as long as you can.”

He didn't respond back as he climbed higher and higher, avoiding pieces of the city being launched all over. He kept a close eye on the helicopters, hoping there wouldn't be another Vulture scenario.

“Come out, Spider-Man.”

The Spot eyed the copters, purposely leaving them to put on a show. He sucked in more chunks of bricks, trees, and whatever he could get inside. He enlarged a bit more, loving every second of the newfound storage of energy.

“Spider-Man, if you were to show yourself right now, I promise to stop all this chaos.” He casually chuckled out.

Miguel inched until he had the Spot in his line of sight. Anticipating the signal, he crouched and focused on the anomaly.

“Jess. I'm ready.”

No response. 

“Jess? We can't delay.”

Still nothing. Today was the day to test his patience. “Jess!” He hissed at the watch.

“Now!”

Wasting no time, he lunged off the building like a ballistic missile, ramming all of his weight on him. The Spot was slightly alarmed but grappled back with Miguel.

“Ah, yes. Not the spider I want, but you are very close enough.”

Punches were thrown back and forth as Miguel was using all his might to bring him closer to Jess, who was holding a metal pipe. The Spot was toying around, letting him get a few good blows in. 

“Come on, Miguel.” Jess jumped on her bike and drove directly under the two, catching Miguel trying his best to hoist the beast down, but gravity wasn't on his side.

“You spiders are a very persistent bunch.” Spot clung onto Miguel's shoulders and swung him into a fire escape before carelessly drifting over to him.

“Esa es una manera de acercarlo.” He snarled, and he propelled himself back to the Spot. He warily examined the placement of Jess. She was four stories down. He only needed to get him to the second level in order for her to strike.

Wrangling him some, Miguel managed to wrap his arm around the Spot's throat and squeeze, surprising him. He twisted his upper body and chucked him like he just scored a touchdown.

He sent Spot crashing through the three flights of the fire escape as Jess bounced and shot her webs around his torso and legs and took them into both her hands, slamming him down.

Using a metal rod, she stuck it deep into the concrete ground and tied the mesh to keep him from crawling around. Miguel added a few of his neon webs and landed on the Spot's back.

“Ouch! Okay, rude.”

Skidding next to them, Jess wasn't taking any risk and stuck a few more to his wrists and collarbone.

“Now I don't think this is excessive at all.” He wryly drawled out as Jess and Miguel ignored him.

“Let's get this back to headquarters, and we can continue on with the search.” Jess swiped at her watch, ready to open a portal.

“Well act like I don't exist then.” The voided man prattled on.

“I knew this was going to be a simple task. Nothing more than a plain villain.” Miguel said nonchalantly.

And that backhanded sentence made The Spot twitch.

Miguel kept pinned him down, his talons sinking into something, but certainly not skin. Removing his mask, he drew out his fangs and prepared to immobilize this anomaly, ready to get back on track.

And that's when the Spot snapped his neck one-eighty, and the scribble of a white hole drilled into Miguel's soul. He was done playing with these toys. He flicked a finger that he had freed from the bondage when lampposts, trees, police cars, and more started flying at the three of them. Jess braced for the impact, but it perfectly flew over her and right into a black hollow that was growing from Spot's forefinger.

He was expanding. Miguel snuck his fangs in before he increased his size further, but it felt like he was biting nothing. Merely air grazed between his teeth.

“You spiders are such pests.”

Summoning a hole under Miguel, he went right through and landed right on top of Jess. The Spot cracked his neck back fast enough to see the giant airborne with his claws out. Making another portal and sending him gliding through before once again crashing into Jess from the side.

Not uttering another sentence, the Spot lifted himself in the air before vanishing to another section of Brooklyn. Miguel and Jess groaned out in pain, propping themselves up. A permanent, twisted glower was on Jess as she rolled over to look back, realizing most of the cops were likely dispatched to follow where that beast was.

“Unbelievable. Un-fucking-believeable!” She stumbled onto her feet, barely bothering to help her ‘boss’ up. “We can't stop that thing by ourselves, Miguel! Call for backup!”

He made his way to her motorcycle and wheeled it over to her. “I stuck a spider finder on him. We can still catch up to him.” Pressing a few things on his watch, he was too engrossed in the screen tracker to notice the lividness on her face. “He's not that far. He teleported to an area that's roughly thirty minutes from here. If we go now, we can catch up.”

“No.”

Miguel jerked his head up in disbelief. “What?” 

“No. I'm not following after him with you; I'm calling for backup, because right now, that is more of a threat than some fifteen-year-old teen, Miguel.”

He took an admonitory step toward her. “If you alert the others, you are no better than him. You will disrupt the canon, and more than just thousands will perish.”

She was taken aback. “I can't with you... I can't. I can't!” Jess kneaded her temples, wondering if anything her ‘leader’ was even spouting true at this point. “Maybe those kids were right! Maybe Gwen was right. The good guys. We're supposed to be the good guys. But are we? Are we Miguel? Because I don't know what to believe in anymore.”

“We. Are.” He spat back, preparing for the best possible route of attack.

“You say that! You say that, but what I've been seeing—what this is, what decisions you have currently been making—is all-”

“Let it go!”

“No! No, I'm not letting this go! I'm done ‘letting go’ for you. Look at where that's gotten us!” She waved her hands at the ruination. “Look at where that's gotten me. I'm. Done.”

He wasn't here to be ridiculed for wanting to do the right thing. He was doing what he had to do, but no one wanted to listen. Everyone must have their own agenda instead of corroborating with his. It's not difficult to fathom wanting everyone on the same page.

That's all Miguel wanted. Advocacy for sparing the lives of these people that Miles is trying to kill. 

“Maybe Miles was right. Sitting here and waiting for some inexorable event to happen isn't the way to go. Letting others suffer knowing that... that thing is out there while we idly wait for Miles's canon, which you said was supposed to happen in two days, isn't the Spider-Man way.”

He bore daggers, but she didn't care. She was finished with his mess.

“I'm not standing by to let these lives go through anymore torment because you want to be stuck in your ways, Miguel.” She climbed on her bike and turned it on.

“If you leave, you are on your own.” He balled both of his claws up, agitation eating him up as his body stiffened.

“I'll let you hold on to that image.”

He glared as she revved up and took off onto the battered streets of Brooklyn. 

Seconds passed by when a lone taxi cab was thrown into the side of a demolished apartment building. Next, a dumpster went soaring in the air, landing in an alleyway.

Why was nothing going his way? Why was everyone suddenly renouncing his viewpoints? Was he truly one of the few who cared about the world disappearing? He didn't care about some villain of the week; he cared about saving the world and not letting history repeat itself.

Why weren't they like you? Why didn't they want to think that another universe could potentially slip through his fingers again? He forcefully shook his head. No, it was only Jess. Jess, Gwen, and Miles. It was only them. Maybe that spider-punk too, but he's always boycotting something.

Inspecting the whereabouts, he didn't want to waste any more time and left to pursue the Spot. 

If he wanted things done, he always had to be the one to do them. 

Somersaulting and ricocheting off broken structures, Miguel's mind wouldn't slow. Every thump he would land on the rooftops, every pulsation he felt in his heart, his burning ember eyes fixated on the destination he needed to prevail in order to stop the true threat that buried him entirely.

He was closing in, a few for more skyscrapers, and he'll secure the...

Spot?

Miguel skidded to a complete stop. A monstrous, endless shadow stalked around, absorbing or knocking things over. Blinking a few times, he took caution of the holes that aggregated over the parts of the borough and under his feet.

This would be a never-ending nightmare for someone with trypophobia. 

The eyes on his mask squinted the closer he got to this beast. Something wasn't right; there was a glint of light in one of the cavities, drawing all his attention to it. Swinging himself over, he hesitated if he should stick his head in it, but his body moved faster.

Peeping inside, there was another dimension. One that appeared to look like Peter Porker's home. A yellow cartoon cat strolled by with a large plate of spaghetti before eyeballing the man peeking out.

“Tuesdays, am I right?” He stuffed a meatball in his mouth before sauntering away.

Miguel yanked his head out and decided to check on a few more. One world was in black and white. Another was a future more advanced than his. There was a world with pastels bleeding through. A universe that was an overstylized magazine.

A plain New York. 

The further he explored and dissected, the less sense it was all making. Miguel tore away from these dimensions that somehow were made accessible to when he realized that the only reason the Kaiju was swatting his arms was because of tiny specks twirling around him.

“What the fu- Oof!”

Something collided with Miguel in the back, bringing him tumbling down and nearly right off the edge of the tall surface. A distressing groan crowded in Miguel's ears as the man looked up.

Big, white, and unsuspecting masked eyes peered into his.

It was him.

“Oh, come on, man!” Miles dashed right back into the gateway he was flung out of as Miguel chased after him. “Guys! Huge problem!” The teen yelled into some sort of watch that resembled the one Miguel was wearing.

A focused glare was smeared over Miguel. This time, he will not let him escape. He would not let him slip through his fingers and outplay him.

“Miles!” He bellowed out, a wrathful flare laced in it.

The boy wasn't decreasing his speed. One entry to another as these dimensions repeated, neither one refusing to give in. The drastic differences in locations were a bit unfavorable, but Miguel was able to work around them.

From tower to tower, web after web, he's always so tantalizingly close, yet too damn far. 

Miles spontaneously made a sharp left, causing Miguel to practically head straight first into a fire escape before copying that same turn. 

A singular black pit was suspended in an alleyway. Miguel didn't delay. He couldn't and wouldn't.

He dove in.

The Spot was in the dead center of his view, still trying to crush the ones that were running laps around him. Miguel tumbled in and yelled out for Miles when a recognizable voice caught his ear.

“Now!”

The sounds of webs surged, Miguel feeling like a pathetic fly caught in an anticipating spider's territory. Various sizes and designs of mesh encapsulated him. Sidling his gaze at four other concealed faces, a revelation struck him.

“¿Ce la naiba? ¡Déjenme salir, idiotas!”

“No can do, mate. Don't need you jeopardizing a mission with your prejudicial ways.” Hobie crossed his arms, taking in the entwined spider.

He phased away his mask and bared his fangs at the punk.

Peter's brown eyes held some sincerity in them. “Miguel, hey buddy. Let me just say sorry in advance for this whole predicament. What Hobie here was trying to say was that we–”

“Leave Miles alone. Plain and simple.” Gwen's voice was radiating absolute spitefulness. Her blue eyes were stabbing into his.

“Let me go. What you're all making is a horrible choice to let Miles run free.”

“You're making a horrible choice by brazenly letting the Spot get out of control! Then try to blame everything on him!” Gwen's face was aflamed, spitting out each word precisely.

She nearly jammed her finger in his eye, but she couldn't care less. 

“Requesting back up. He keeps trying to make more openings!” Someone that sounded like Peni rang from Miles's watch.

“That's all me. I'm sure you lot can handle the rest.” Hobie faced his ex-boss and jeered at his presence. “Good luck. You're going to need it.” Hobie bowed his head at Miguel, then casually strolled off the edge of the tower before whipping over to the dire humanoid.

Three pairs of eyes elicited three contrasting feelings. One of an icy revulsion, one of determination with a hint of trepidation, and one of poignancy and uncertainty.

A million questions scrambled through his head as he fought to rip out of the web-shackled binding. “Let. Me. Out! You don't know what you're doing! If we don't stop him, all will–”

“All will what? Huh? All will coincidentally die if Miles tries to save his dad? Is that it? Because, guess what? Guess who's safe?!”

“Gwen.” Peter spoke up, but the strawberry-blonde wouldn't stop.

“Guess who's doing fine? Guess who's universe is still here?!”

“Gwen.” He desperately tried to get her attention from Miguel.

“Guess whose world is still intact but could possibly be destroyed by something far more sinister and deadlier than a teenager!”

“Gwen!” Miles beat Peter to it.

Silence managed to uproar the commotion and annihilation happening in the back. Gwen slipped her mask back and folded her arms.

Miguel's heart nearly stopped. He didn't. They didn't. They couldn't have. They wouldn't. They shouldn't.

“You… No. Please don't tell me that you...”

Peter lowered his gaze; Gwen side-eyed him before sizing him up; and Miles clenched his fist, an implacable but proud bearing in his eyes, outstaring the one he fears.

“No… No. No! ¡Malditos idiotas van a matar a todos! Do you realize what you've done?!”

He frothed at the mouth, his eyes in a manic state, as he knowingly prevented another canon from happening. Miles was once again going to ruin an additional world, all because he wanted to be this hero and have this ‘happy’ ending.

To keep the ones he loves safe.

But that sacrifice isn't worth it. It was never worth it. He can't relive it again.

Traitors. All of them. Each and every single one.

Why does he get to have the ones he loves? Why couldn't he? He only wanted to hold his daughter. He only wanted to hold you close.

“You have ushered in the end of not only Pavitr’s universe but his as well.”

“You keep thinking that, you keep saying that, but with all we've seen, we know you're dead wrong, man.” Miles guardedly took a step forward. “Your ideas of ‘canon events’ may have been miscalculated, buddy.”

Miles was goading him before Peter slid in front before Miguel could squirm his way out and tackle him. “What Miles and Gwen are trying to say is that maybe we had the wrong idea about—”

“Incoming!”

The four twisted their heads as familiar masks and faces hurtled right into Peter and Miles. Miguel didn't take his eyes off the scene, and Gwen staggered back near the edge before regaining her balance.

“I think I landed on my hamstrings... Nope, my hams are still attached to them.”

“That wasn't the type of entrance I was expecting to make. Reminds me of my early detective days of crashing into rooms.”

“Is everyone okay?”

A choir of ‘yeah,’ ‘sure,’ and ‘define okay?’ was sprinkled in. As the different spiders began to hurriedly help each other up, Miguel couldn't believe the plethora of ones who were trying to help out the anomaly.

Peni, Noir, Spider-Ham, Spider-Byte, and even Pavitr, despite what Miles is doing to his home.

Jess brushed herself off before her eyes met the scorching, violent ones of her questionable boss. The others laboriously came together, panicking about what exactly happened and how they needed to get back to it. The harried jolts and shouts of the heroes were trying to calculate a strategy, but Jess didn't remove herself. She only shook her head in disappointment and returned her attention to what was exceedingly important.

That's when Miguel realized they had fully betrayed him. It settled on his huge shoulders that he'd already pioneered burdens that stockpiled over time.

The others were stuck in their tangent when they heard yelling and whipping to see him free from the web prison. 

“Peter, you told us that was enough to hold him down.” Gwen hissed, getting into a fighting stance.

“I did too. But I guess not.”

Heads moved from the Spot to Miguel, not knowing which threat to combat first. There shouldn't have been a debate from the start, but the way Miguel's deranged, unblinking leer speared into space cautioned and peeved the team against him.

“Miguel,” Peter B. held his hands up and said, “Let's not do anything we'll regret... Well, let's not add anymore collateral damage to this-”

He didn't even bother to listen. He sprinted right at Miles, and mayhem erupted. Noir, Peter, and Hobie tackled him down, while Gwen and Pavitr shielded their friend.

“You just don't know when to bloody quit!”

“Sir, this isn't a good look.”

“Miguel, please! Calm down and listen to us!”

He thrashed about, screaming obscenities in Spanish. Noir and Hobie confined his arms with theirs, and Peter entwined his under Miguel's armpits, holding on like he was a backpack.

“We can't have this,” Miles jutted his hands out at the restraining man. “And that to deal with! We have to temporarily immobilize Spot. Peni, Margo, how is that device coming along?”

“An estimated time? Probably five minutes!” Margo exclaimed over her shoulder.

“Guess we'll have to use the stun bomb now. Pavit-”

“On it, bro!” He politely snagged the spherical item from Miles's palm with his Yo-yo and somersaulted to the Spot.

They waited for him to plant it on him so Miles could activate it. Pavitr flew around the Spot intermittently, eyeing for a good opening before twirling and nearing his hip. The Spot reeled his arm back and smacked the boy, sending him back to the others. Tumbling in, he swiftly regained his balance and gave a thumbs-up.

Miles pressed a button on a watch, and the Spot's increment movements went until he was subsequently motionless.

“Thanks, Pav. That gives us enough time to deal with this.” The teen crossed his arms, ready to speed through it and get it out of the way.

“Your canon is flawed. Just accept that fact. I've seen it,” Miles signaled to the group. “We've seen it.”

They were taken aback by how bluntly Miles started it off. 

Some heads dropped, a couple kept their watch on the temporarily frozen villain of calamity, and others displayed a face of aloofness on the exposed chronic desperation and uncertainty on Miguel.

He was lying. They were liars to him. Each and every one of them.

“You think you know everything. You think you do, but you don't. You all are undermining this whole situation! You tell me you've seen proof, but don't show it. You keep saying what I'm doing is wrong!” Miguel was done withholding his strength and knocked the three off of him.

“You stand there and try to condemn all that I've been doing, but you're wrong! You're. All. Wrong!” He went to charge at Miles again but stumbled over when Peter shackled Miguel's ankles and calves with his webs.

“No!” He rammed his fists into the concrete, breaking apart the asphalt. His brain was rushing.

They watched in sheer horror. The abiding impact of canon events and how they really affected Miguel. It was a depressing and pitiable sight.

“You don't know! All I've ever done... all of this,” he punched the ground some more. “All that I do for everyone is being chastised! I watched her die in my arms! I let her go to keep us alive! Everything I do—everything I have to sacrifice is to save all of you!” He maniacally points at each person.

“You don't know what I've seen! Peter has! Tell them!”

Peter clamps his jaw shut, crossing his arms with this pang of sorrow.

“Tell them now!”

The awkward shuffling or stiff distant regards to Miguel chimed greatly in the atmosphere. They knew exactly what he experienced. Most of them have witnessed that backstory front and back, beginning to end.

The glances given added more enragement. Peter debated if he should impart any sort of information, but at this point, there was too much to lose. He closed his eyes and bit his bottom lip.

“Miguel, it—don't you think it could... What you've been... Do you think what you've been through is different from our stories?”

His talons dug into the slabs, breaking them into tinier pebbles. His face contorted into disgust. How could the one who was there take a cynical outlook knowing what would happen? His heart drummed throughout his heated body, and his head was racing and throbbing, a trembling fuel of wrath at this madness. His breathing was ragged and uncontrollable.

He was ready to unleash all of it when a bellow rumbled the ground, knocking everyone down.

The Spot inexplicably swelled more, stomping and demanding Spider-Man. Any Spider-Man.

“We wasted too much time. Girls, is the goober ready?!” Jess struggled to stand, but the tremors forced her to kneel, placing a nervous hand on her stomach.

Margo nodded at Peni before chucking a containment field at Miles.

“Let's end this once and for all.” Miles faced Miguel with a stony glare before he wiped it away with a bleak one. “Let's put an end to this canon junk.”

“Let's kick some butt!” Pavitr leapt off the building, with Hobie flipping right behind him as they swung towards the monstrous demon.

The rest directly trailed behind the two, only leaving Gwen, Miles, Peter, Jess, and Miguel.

“How is that image still holding up for you?” Jess frowned at her old superior, only receiving a chilled grimace. She shook her head and placed a hand on Gwen's shoulder. “You got this.”

They four-eyed her, revving up her bike and making her way with the spider gang.

“You are making a mistake. You all don't kno-”

“Miguel. It's over. I saved my dad, and nothing happened.”

“Yet. Nothing happened yet .” He twisted his face into a scowl.

“My world is still there after my dad quit being captain because of a speech I gave,” Gwen perked up. “Was that in my canon? A ‘B minus’ speech that strayed him away?” She held on to a small smirk before losing it.

“¿Qué? Ho-how?” That enmity was replaced with anxiety. It was getting worse with every new thing that popped up. It was all crumbling right before his very eyes.

All this he spent wanting to keep them safe is collapsing like a drop of a hat. A finger snap, and just like that, gone.

“I'm sorry, Miguel. It's for the-” Peter froze when a hole suddenly sprouted below the four's feet.

“Peek-a-boo, spider ones.”

Pitch black and screams.

They landed on a street in a desolate black-and-white city. From skyscrapers to unfinished construction, the area was bare. It wasn't Brooklyn; yes, it had similar features, but this wasn't the Brooklyn they were battling to keep safe.

“Is everyone okay?” Peter groaned out, rubbing his back before sitting up.

“After today, I'm retiring, man.” Miles sprawled out before removing his mask. “Gwen, you good?”

“Yeah, I'm great, fine. Nothing that I haven't faced before.” She trudged over to him and helped him up.

Peter scampered over to Miguel, who was lying on his back. He dwelled on the deceptions of which he was made aware.

“Hey, you okay?” Peter went to reach him, but Miguel swatted his hand away. He didn't want his help. He didn't need his help anymore.

Peter's eyes glossed, and he blinked away the tears. “Right. Sorry.” He stood up and went back over to the teens.

“So, where exactly are we?” Miles glanced up, along with Gwen, who was trying to find any sort of familiar landmark.

“New York? Or maybe a type of New York?”

“I'll be happy to explain.”

Back-to-back, they took a battle stance, locating where the voice was coming from. Miguel took to their sides, just in case.

“Welcome to the end of all times. Do you like that name? I thought of it on the spot. Ha, get it?” The villain drifted himself down, but not enough to be attacked. “Ah, perfect. I got exactly who I wanted. And a special guest. I'm a big fan of your work.” He finger-gunned at Miguel, only to obtain a glare from him. 

“Oh, tough crowd. Hello, Spider-Man, you liked what I did to your world? You should consider it an honor that you're the first to be-” 

Miles threw a device at the Spot before he snapped his fingers, and the object was right back at Miles's head. “Gotta be careful where you throw that thing. We don't want anyone getting caught in that, now do we?”

The Spot clapped his hands together, forcing the four to bunch up. They writhed and squirmed, but there were invisible chains caging them.

“Now that I have an audience that hopefully won't throw more things at me, shall we begin with the feature presentation?”

He opened a portal that held a clear view of Miles's world, with black ooze and spirals forming around his home.

“I told you, Spider-Man. I'm going to take everything from you.” The Spot momentarily knelt in front of Miles, grabbing his cheeks in his hands. “And I'm starting with your father and mother. You won't miss them, right?”

Miles's eyes welled up as Peter and Gwen strived to free themselves.

“The canon. The canon is still intact, but it's not…” Miguel didn't realize how loudly he spoke, as all focus was now on him.

“Are you still on about that canon event nonsense, Miguel O'Hara?”

They shot their attention over to the villain, who moved his hand from Miles to Miguel. “For someone with an all-seeing eye, you don't observe much.”

Miguel sneered at the mocking tone as the others looked on, slightly confounded.

“For a smart man, you sure are stupid.”

Pulling his hand away, he held his back against them. “Canon events. That's funny how you still believe that exists in your little world.”

Now things weren't making any sense. Gwen, Miles, and Peter knew the canon wasn't exactly objective, but how much did the Spot exactly know?

“In fact, none of it exists in any of these worlds. You have pages of the story, but not the full book.”

“What the hell are you going on about?!” Miguel was sick and tired of these fucking riddles everyone was casting at him.

“Let's use an example, shall we?” He snaps his fingers, sucking them into another vortex and transporting them to another New York.

They were separated from the transparent restraints, grumbling from being flung around like nothing.

“Where are we?” Miles squinted, pestered by the suddenness of Spot's ways of transferring.

Peter pushed himself up on his elbows, rotating his head. There was something conversant about the bordering vicinity that he couldn't put his finger on. “I don't understand. What example could he make with this?” and that's when realization slapped him right in the face. “Wait. Are we in...”

“Nueva York? Why are we back here?” Gwen's senses were going haywire as she scoured to search for the Spot.

“Miguel, would you like to tell them?” The maniac dangled in front, deriving every bit of pleasure from all of this.

Those burning red eyes were filled with horror. Even the bravest and strongest can cower from their simplest fears.

“Would you like me to explain your story, or do we all have the general picture?”

“Cállate.” Miguel murmurs as his head swarms.

“I think we're all aware of Miguel's pitiful, tragic tale; isn't that rig-”

“¡Dije cállate!” Miguel lunges towards the Spot, who only vanishes and reappears behind him, knocking him straight down to the ground.

“Tsk, tsk. Manners now. But it must be hard to have when one is so ill-tempered.”

“Enough with this! Why did you bring us here?” Peter rushed to Miguel's side, completely over Spot's bullshit.

Miles and Gwen tried to sneak out of the Spot's line of view, prepared to barrage him with an onslaught approach, but he measly flung them over with a flick of his index right into Peter and Miguel.

“I applaud this Spider-Man right there for being able to figure out transdimensional hopping. Did it in an effective way that King's Pin collider failed to do. It didn't even come close.”

“I said, get on with it!” The large man shot his laser web out, only for him to snip it in half.

“Hm. I suppose I'll let you in on my little secret, since this will be the last thing you all will see.” He held his arms out as if he were a messiah. “I need to get rid of him, as his impressive comprehension of multiverse traveling will hinder my plans.”

“Not if the events leading to your defeat will-”

“And that. Before I kill him, I want him to know what I've seen and witnessed. Fill in the blanks for you all.” Spot cracked his neck and laughed. “You see, those webs of lies he created are all wrong. You've seen it yourself. Gwendy's father. That baby. He gestured at Peter, who clamped his jaw shut. “Or the fact that Lieutenant Morales will die today and not the next.”

Miles went to strike him but was anchored back by Gwen and Peter, who whispered not to let him get in his head.

“It's so sad how those events disrupted a non-existent timeline.” Spot drolly spoke, ragdolling his body and rotating to the man in question. “Isn't that right, Miguel?”

“Okay, so you know what we know. Can you float your ass down here so we can kick it?” Gwen amusingly said, aiming her arm, ready to fire her web.

“Oh, little ballerina. Like I said before, you only have a few pages to the book.” The Spot twisted his upper torso towards her before following with his lower legs. “But you all still need to know. He still needs to know the true reasons. And for my amusement to see his last reactions.” 

Miguel's heavy eyebrows creased as the void continued.

“Picture it like this. Yin,” his body remains wholly dark with a white dot in the middle of his face. “And Yang.” He grotesquely transformed until he was his original white form, with a black dot replacing the previous shade.

It was almost as if he was taunting them.

“One can't exist without the other.” He begins to shift between the achromatic shades, almost in a swirling, uncanny way.

“And when you pluck one away, it creates a disruption within the balance.”

“Hurry it up!” Miguel and Miles catapult full force before The Spot juts away, as Peter rapidly slings a web, grappling Miles's ankle and effectively tugging him back before colliding with the steel force of the bigger spider.

“So impatient, but so am I. When you dragged that body from this world, you caused that unbalanced nature. The world tried to fix itself, but it couldn't. That single harmony of nature was ruined.” He reverts back to his pure, voided-dimensional imprint.

“There were never any events. No one's life is foreordained. Mere coincidences. But when you try to be something you're not, that's when everything goes downhill.”

The Spot whirls his hand as a familiar sequence plays before them. The world was seeping into the hiccups of colors, from trees to dogs to humans coated in the heap of pixels sprinting in slow motion.

Miguel's ears rang at the recreation, his eyes blurry as he violently swiveled his body at the collapsing world. The others failed to get his attention when a soft voice dwindled in the air.

“Papá? Papá, tengo miedo.”

She held on tightly to his suit, her wide, watery eyes cutting deeply into his. 

“Gabi? Osita, keep looking at me.” Miguel had to run; he needed to run so he could save her. He didn't mean to. He only wanted to protect her.

“Papa, what's happening?! Please help!”

“It's just me. Don't look at anything else! Eyes on me, osita!”

Peter bolted after Miguel as Gwen and Miles rallied to combat whatever the Spot was pulling, but he was too impenetrable.

Miguel didn't know where to go. Each step was the same, and each disappearance that replayed was too hounding. She was so small in his massive limbs, so susceptible. 

He was going to save her.

Peter weaved and dodged the simulation, catching up to Miguel, who was caught in a loop.

“Miguel! Miguel, stop!” He snagged on his collar, encasing his arms around Miguel's large neck. “This isn't real! He's only using a reenactment!”

Peter forcefully ripped his friend's view from his daughter to his frightened brown eyes. “This isn't real. What's happening now is a scare tactic.” He nodded his head, beckoning him to look upon his claws.

Miguel tore his gaze down to only see empty hands. Gabi wasn't there; only black swirls were coinciding to form a portal. The men reeled away from the treacherous, endless pit, dashing back to the two teens.

“We need to find a way out!” Miles shouts over the abruptly strong gust of wind.

“Or a place to hide while we figure this out!” Gwen covers her face as fragments of debris fly around.

“We need to start going and figure that out later! He looks like he's not done yet!” Peter takes off, with the others following suit.

The Spot commences his terror by elevating the skyscrapers, lobbing them all over, as the four unhesitatingly clambered and dived from one infrastructure to the next, occasionally losing their footing, trying to minimize their chances of being crushed.

“You destroyed that universe because you had to be selfish and pluck that one thing out! The only reason why my spider didn't reign destruction on a world like yours was because I created it.”

Copious more objects, ranging from vehicles to steel beams to nature, all churned and vortexed closely.

“But you—you stole their lives and they all had to suffer!” He was attaining a subsequent excess of power. 

“And I will happily repay their debt.”

Miguel was barely clipped by a truck, tucking and rolling, catching up with the rest.

“He's getting too strong! He's trying to bring in other dimensions like the collider!” Peter webbed nonstop, scoping out a safe space.

“There's no way we can contain him if he keeps it up at this rate! Whoa!” Miles was plucked by Miguel before being met face-first with a shopping cart.

“I'm assuming you all have a plan?!” Miguel sliced a car and playground slide, rocketing full ahead.

“Of course we have a plan! We just…” Miles trailed off when he had to concentrate on spinning and shifting obstacles.

“We just didn't want to tell you, buddy!” Peter beamed before flopping onto his face and being dragged away. “Hey! Guys! Guys!” He disappeared into the subway they were running on.

“Peter!” Miguel and Miles shouted, spinning back when their shins were netted, and herded in the same direction as him. They endeavored to rip it off, with Miguel bringing out one of his arm blades.

But it was too late; whatever had them in their clutch was going to have to put up a fight. Ready to swing, a pair of small gloved hands emerged in front.

“If either one of you punches me, I swear you will not like what happens next!” Gwen whispered-shouted at the two.

“Gwen, what the heck?! You can't be pulling people around like that!” Miles spastically flapped his lanky limbs at her before she whacked them away.

“We don't have time for this. How do we stop this thing?” Miguel's nerves were shot.

“Well, I'm glad you asked. To save all that tech talk, we figured out that if Spot can jump from earth to earth like the watches you created, we found a way that we can trap him by using this.” Miles held up an overfamiliar circular machine.

“So we had Margo and Penny merge the two together, and if we're able to get him close enough, he will be essentially locked away with no means of escape.” Gwen noted, assessing the scene from one of the windows. "And we were going to paralyze him with this item the other Miles created, but someone just had to go and recklessly try to–”

“Gwen.” Miles pleaded with a look, and she took back to staring at the madness. “We were going to stun him and go from there, but now that's out of the picture.”

“And there's no way to get any closer to him without him creating more chaos and holes.” Peter slumped against a pole, getting serious deja vu.

“Unless…” Gwen stepped away from the pane and stood in between the three. “Unless we distract him and one of us gets close enough to ambush him.”

“Now hold on, Gwen, tell me you're not suggesting...”

“Yes, Peter. I am.”

An eerie chill ran down Peter, Gwen, and Miles's bodies, their spidey senses going haywire.

“We're not doing this sacrificial thing again. I'm not going to let you, or especially you,” Miles poked his finger into Peter's chest. “Go through something as dooming as that again. I'll go.”

Peter was ready to counter when Miguel seized the gizmo from Miles. “I'll do it.”

The three stuttered and exclaimed.

“What?”

“Dude, no way you're going to do this.”

“Miguel, think about what you're saying.”

“The kid said it himself; he doesn't need you two risking your lives for this, and I'm sure you don't need him doing it anyway.”

Miles cringed at what he said and tried to immediately backtrack. “That's not what I meant; I meant it like, I don't want anyone to-”

“Don't bother explaining yourself. You made your thoughts abundantly clear. You all have too much to lose. Too much is at stake.” He solemnly dazed out, eyeballing the mass as the Spot demanded they come out of hiding.

“Miguel, no, we can all find out another way.” 

“What is there to find out, Peter? There's nothing left to figure out. You all have something to return to. You all have a life outside of this… fictionalized conception.”

Miguel's dull red irises were as clear as day. He didn't want to believe the Spot; he didn't. He even wanted to refrain from trusting these three words about the canon. But now? Now he doesn't know what it is anymore. 

Peter pursed his lips and took Miguel by the shoulders, still unwilling to lose faith in this man. “For all we know, he's lying, wanting to get in your head,” Peter squeezed, wishing for more than that deadpan look. “Yeah, certainly he made that up to spook you. There's no way that-”

“Peter, he knew. He knows about my past, and I've never been in contact with that thing. He knows.” He flipped the gadget over, studying how they made it work.

“But he only showed what we know! He didn't provide any further proof.” Miles tried to start, but Miguel instantly shut it down.

“And neither did you! None of you did!” Miguel punched at a glass window, the shards blasting everywhere. “And yet the things you said, how they aligned, that he somehow knew... It doesn't matter. This doesn't matter. Everything that has been done doesn't mat-”

“Guys, sorry to interrupt; things are glitching!”

Gwen pointed to the Spot that was nearing where they were, challenging them to come out. He knows they can't hide from him forever.

“You left the other itsy-bitsy spiders all by themselves. Maybe I can wash them out along with everyone else.”

The train jerked in all directions, throwing them against the metal poles, seats, and windows.

“We need to do this now. You guys, go keep him busy.”

They protested, but Miguel was ripping away at the metal entrance, tearing it clean off, and releasing it with the rest of the mayhem.

“Miguel, wait!”

They watched his laser web fly out, catching it on a billboard and flinging himself out.

Climbing himself up his web, he eyed the three evacuating the train car, swinging to the Spot. The teens made their quips and quick-witted one-liners, whizzing circles around him and chucking whatever they could, while Peter kept his main focus on Miguel to make sure he was out of view.

He needed to find that perfect opening. It was daunting to make anything out. His periphery is blinded by the vast array of splotched speckles and jarring strobes of multicolored inanimate objects. 

Bounding from structure to construction machinery, he would examine the three striving to take jabs before getting tossed into one of Spot's many gateways and whacked into a sign or big wheeler. They were doing anything to keep him distracted. 

Miguel clawed up an amalgamation of traffic lights and statues when a hole spawned several inches barely over him. Peter came toppling out, his body floundering right at Miguel. His web was around the man's waist, but gravity still applied in this hell. 

Unprepared for the sudden shift in weight, Miguel was nearly snagged in Peter's direction. Tightening his tension on the asymmetrical form, he watched the pink, fuzzy fabric zoom past and come to a dangle.

Hearts racing, Peter couldn't help but grin. “It's all going well. He's a bit tougher than expected, but hey, we got this.” His fingers flicked the neon webbing, recuperating with the need for some type of optimism. Squinting his eyes, he conjured up an idea as the vortex whirled at a lazy pace. “You know, we didn’t make a signal for you because you decided to jolt out all willy-nilly, but how about now?”

Miguel’s eyebrow raised as his mask showed the expression.

“We’re going to try and have him open a portal connecting us to you; you leap right through, press that button, stick it on him, and it’ll be smooth sailing from there!”

“Easier said than done.” 

“Well, let me go, and we'll leap of faith on this.” He gave a thumbs-up and a lopsided smile. “Trust me!”

And with that, Miguel withdrew his web, with Peter flipping right back into action. He trailed them back and forth, though a bit annoyed with them not sticking to a simple, singular area.

Finally adhering to one place, he camped in a nook, hidden in a blind spot. Spot was getting mad, as they were whipping all around like spiders in the wind, using the blackholes to their advantage.

It was working. Managing to lure him right where they wanted. Miles, Gwen, and Peter put in all their strength to deliver one good blow before diverting paths all near Miguel's location.

“That's enough! I'm tired of these games!”

He made a gateway, but not the one they were hoping for. Miguel was ready to go through the passage by Peter's when he saw that. He snatched up each one by their leg, dragging them back to him. Plastering his back on the brick wall, he peeped over the corner, realizing Spot had them forcibly stuck in the voids they came from while displaying three more.

Miguel watched as the three struggled, their faces contorting from outrage, confusion, and grief.

In horror, they could only look. The black ooze seeped into their own worlds, easily blanking their homes out of existence.

In each portal, they showed their loved ones fighting whatever was trying to absorb them. George Stacy shot at the gunk before bolting out of the apartment, helping others along the way. Mary-Jane and Mayday were driving far, with MJ mumbling that things would be okay and that Peter and his friends would stop this. Their team was doing all they could to prevent more damage, but some were moving slower, a sign that maybe they should succumb to this faith.

The three sobbed and shouted, doing everything to escape, but the seepage of the darkness that was swallowing them up was stronger.

“A delightful sight, is it not? I told you, Spider-Man, I would take everything from you. From you all. And I will start with these two.”

Inch by inch Gwen and Peter were being consumed faster than before. Their begs for mercy battered Miles's ears as he hyperventilated.

“Please! Stop, stop, stop! Don't hurt them! Don't hurt my family; don't hurt my friends! Please stop!” He blubbered like a child crying for his mama.

Even with the lack of eyes, one could tell he was only gazing emotionlessly. A gritty yet slimy smile grew on his face before a grating laugh echoed all over. 

“I am the multiverse. I am your destiny. As I am a part of you, you are all a part of me.”

He brought his arm up to the sky and tilted his neck. “And I will take it all away.”

Ready to end it all with a snap of his fingers, something heavy and solid rammed into the Spot's back, bringing him down to a floating skyline. Miguel's fists came smashing down on the Spot. He could care less if he was doing minimal or no damage at all. He just needed him down.

The villain allowed him to get the hits, making him believe he was doing something.

“You are such a fool, you know.”

Miguel growled, baring his fangs at him, and punched him straight into the structure, crashing several stories down. The Spot felt that but kept on going.

“It's so funny how close-minded you are. Really. You are so scared of the truth that you keep using your past as a sad, pathetic clutch.”

Miguel kept going, needing to keep him preoccupied.

“It's such a shame, really. You didn't have to kill your—what was it? Your osita?”

Absolute fury. Adrenaline coursed in his veins as Miguel roared, picking up the Spot, and slingshotting him out, accelerating himself right after him.

“Don't you ever put my daughter's name in your mouth!” 

“Oh, calling someone's child your daughter, how bold.” The Spot was getting a kick out of this, one last game of fun before all was to disappear. “But it really is depressing, isn't it? You didn't have to kill her, did you? But you did. And the other one you threw so much blame on. What did you call her? Your moon? You didn't have to let her go as well. A string of bad luck for you.”

Red. Red began to pervade Miguel's line of sight.

“Well, at least you'll get to be with them if it makes you feel better. That's if you even end up there.” Spot lifted his upper hand one more time. “And don't worry, I'll make sure to drop by her apartment to leave a message. Wouldn't it hurt her to know you were the real reason the world was going to die?”

Click.

Right in the middle of Spot's chest was the device that Miguel was very familiar with, which started to beep and gradually cage them both.

“You are done hurting people. You are done hurting the ones others love.” The shield continued its crawl. “And you will not hurt mine. You will never hurt the one I love.”

Miguel wrapped his claws around Spot's neck, strangling him. He thrashed around, clawing at him to let go. There was bloodlust and hatred within Miguel. 

There was also pain and regret bobbing around. He was ready. He knew he couldn't recover from this; he knew it. All that he did, all that was. He was ready to let go. Let it all go for her. All for you.

“I'll let you watch your world crumble too.” Spot coughed and wheezed out, snapping his fingers with a smug eating grin. Miguel kept his eyes on him, waiting for something, but nothing came.

Spot, bewildered, continued to snap, flick his wrist, and point his digit, and still nothing came to light.

“What?! No. No!”

“There's something implanted in this where you can't make your portals.” Miguel's knees were buried into the void's side, digging into them. “You are nothing but a sad excuse. You don't belong.” He whispered right where his ear would be.

Spot freaked out. He headbutted Miguel over and over, shrilling out. The shield was at their feet. Miguel smirked, blood covering his face, but he didn't care. He fulfilled his purpose of protecting the multiverse.

And protecting you.

He closed his eyes, ready to be locked in here with this thing, when his body was yanked out. Flying through the air, he tried to grapple with any surface but was too far from anything. He bumped into a few trees and cars that were coming down along with him when three figures were coming closer and closer.

He collided right into Gwen, Peter, and Miles, their webs lessening the blow just a tad bit.

“I'm definitely going to feel that in the morning.” Peter groaned out.

Sitting up, the trio peered over to Miguel.

“You okay, man?” Miles's voice was soft, exhausted, and raspy.

Miguel grasped his throbbing head, only to nod. Trying to gain his bearings, the atmosphere seemed heavy. A weight on their lungs, the oxygen wouldn't properly release.

“Has time… stopped?” Gwen instructed them to gaze up.

Everything was levitating and rooted in nothing. If one were to unpause at any given movement, they would all be squished to a pulp.

Conflicted on what to do or how to get out, a bloody crimson gleam spiraled at a rapid velocity right at them. Dodging it, they took cover when an ear-splitting boom landed right in the center.

Four pairs of eyes hesitantly went to the thing when they were met with a struggling being desperately doing all in his power to get out of this personal cell block.

“No! Why can't I—why can't I do anything?!” Spot flailed like a fish out of water. “What did you do?! What did you do?!”

“Neat little trick. A device that accesses other worlds.”

“And when disconnected, well, you're basically stuck.” Gwen completed Miles's sentence.

They stonily leered at the enduring dilemma he was in, waiting for him to quit and give in.

“You think this is the end?! This isn't the end! None of this is the end!”

“¿Te callarás? You lost. It's over.” Miguel stepped closer, squinting at the defeated villain. “Your reign and terror end now. We will dispose of him properly, and–”

“You really think this is the end? No, it's only starting. You will all suffer for my faith. You will all suffer my wrath! My curse!”

He grew and grew, but the shield wasn't breaking. 

“You will see! You will all see the true hell of it all!”

The dangling objects began to topple bit by bit as the four swiftly weaved left and right.

Miguel dodged-roll, nearly evading chunks of bricks, when a lone hole with a desecrated Brooklyn inside caught his eye. “A portal. That's our exit.”

“Do we really plan on leaving Spot?”

Miguel latched onto Peter's shoulders, tattering his pink robe more. “We either die here along with that, or we go. Now.”

No consideration or comments were left; they ran. Dipping, leaping, sliding, and webbing for their lives. All of the hellscape was imploding, doing so much to not get pulverized. 

The sweet escape was so close. Less than a hundred feet away, a deafening wail rattled the ground. Battling that curiosity, it won when their shadows were flooded with another.

Not decreasing their hastened flee, they all whipped to check over their shoulders to the Spot, who was ungodly gargantuas, but his cage still fought to restrain.

“You all will never escape. You all will never truly be free from the horrid lives you live! You all will perish! Suffer!”

“He looks like he's about to explode!” 

“We're almost there; don't stop!”

“Don't look back!”

More tucking, more ducking, and sidestepping from being squashed into bits and pieces.

“Come to me! Come and let me save you! I will end your misery for you!   

“No longer will you have to suffer, Spider-Man, I am your true savior!”

Less than a few feet away.

“I WILL END ALL—”

BOOM.

An explosive shockwave was surging at them, and the hollers to not stop at all costs sprang from them all. It was there; it was getting smaller, but they weren't going to let it win. They pushed through.

Then moonlight.

The silky white glow from the moon above shrouded them. Suits are worn, along with their body and mind. Miguel couldn't stop his intrinsic hold on the sphere. It was beautiful; it shined ever so vibrantly on him. All he wanted to do was grab it and hug it. Never feeling the need to let go.

No stars were adorned alongside it. But it didn't matter; as long as the moon was there, that's what truly mattered.

Buzzing and strong migraines and pains danced in their heads when cheers, words of praise, and cries replaced them. A flock of people neared them all as the other spiders yanked and hugged Gwen, Peter, and Miles. Pats on the backs, longing hugs, and tears from nearly everyone as Brooklyn lied in ruins. More people came out of hiding, their applauding and hoots and hollers around the heroes blared, when two people dashed out of the crowd and right to Miles.

They hugged and squeezed each other, nodding and shaking, before wobbling to their knees, crying from joy, nerves, and maybe more.

Miguel could only look; he was lost in a trance. There were no glitches; besides the ruined city, everything was in place. No pixels, no one trickling away into the nothingness. All was… intact.

“Hey.”

Miguel startled, shook his head a bit, and spun around to the other spiders staring at him and Miles holding his parents for dear life.

“Thanks for helping. I, uh, I appreciate it. Just know that there's going to be a lot to fix. Like, a lot.”

The big man didn't know if the teen meant Brooklyn, the society, or himself.

Miguel only bowed his head toward the cracked concrete, then to Miles. “Yeah. A lot.” Then his eyes were back on the moon. “A lot.”

How much was a lot? The empire he made tumbled and fell like it was a simple house of cards.

Where do they go from here? Where will the Spider Society go from here?

...

Where will he go?

[duskspring]

A Holiday and Teasing - Young Nihil/Young Sister Imperator

Domestic December - Day 26

Summary: Nihil’s ghoul Water recounts the story of how the old man and Sister Imperator got together

Content (do let me know if I forgot anything!): Storytelling, young Nihil and Imperator, stress, yelling, making up

Word count: ~2.2k

“I will never understand those two.” Rain thought out loud as he observed the scene from afar.

Old man Nihil had been running around all day trying to get Sister Imperator’s attention. She’d mostly avoided him, too busy trying to get the ministry sorted for Yule. The one second he had her attention, his frail, shaking arm had halfway raised a mistletoe, his eyebrows moving up in suggestion.

Sister had scoffed and immediately walked off. Of course, that didn’t stop the him in the slightest, simply continuing his pursuit of the disinterested woman.

“I don’t know why he even bothers trying.” Cirrus responded.

“Because it worked…” Oh, that was a rare voice to hear, “Once upon a time.”

The two ghouls whipped their heads around to find… no one standing there. Rain slowly turned in a circle, trying to locate the source of the voice, until Cirrus softly slapped his shoulder and pointed upwards to the wall.

Sitting on a ledge, very close to the ceiling, sat Water. The original Water that is, part of Nihil’s old band. He still wore his silver baby mask from all those decades ago, taken care of to remain in pristine condition.

He jumped down, gracefully landing before the others, “This Yule it will be 46 years.”

“46 years since what?” Rain asked for clarification.

“Since those two got together. Kind of.”

“Those two dated?!” Cirrus exclaimed, although somehow this context made certain interactions seem a lot more logical.

“Sister doesn’t like dwelling on it.” The old ghoul swiped a hand through his hair, “But they really were something…”

December 14, 1967

Sister walked through the halls in hurried steps, desperately trying to see everything go as planned.

“Why aren’t the candles up yet, Angela? How far along are you?!” She stressed.

“I’m just a little bit behind.” Sister Angela cringed at herself, knowing it was in fact more than just a little bit.

Sister sighed, unsure of how much more she could take. Her very first real leadership position and stuff was already going wrong left and right.

“Why the long face, bella?” The arms around her waist didn’t help ground her the way Nihil had probably intended.

She shoved them off of her, “Please, Papa. I don’t have time for this.” Her steps already continued further down the hall.

Nihil speedwalked around her, walking backwards in the same direction so he could keep facing her, “You never have time for me.” He pouted.

“I’m a busy woman. And you’re much too demanding.” She snapped. It was that, and the fact that his reputation preceded him. For Lucifer’s sake, he had three children with three different women already, she didn’t need to become number four.

“Suora,” He stopped her in her tracks with his hands on her shoulders. She knew he was serious when he didn’t call her some pet name, “You deserve a break as well. Sit down, have a glass of wine with me.”

She considered it, if only for a moment. She had been running herself very thin. As much as she didn’t want to admit it, maybe a break would be for the be-

She startled, turning around in a flash at the loud crashing sound coming from one of the rooms in the hall. She hurried inside, Nihil already forgotten behind her.

“Gerald, are you alright?” She hurried to the brother’s side, laid out on the floor next to a toppled over ladder and various, luckily plastic and not glass, decorations spread along the floor.

“I’ll be fine.” He tried to argue, but his wrist quickly gave out underneath him when he tried pushing himself up.

“Absolutely not. You’re going to the infirmary.” She helped pull Gerald up, supporting him as the went on their way, “Excuse me.” She shooed Nihil when he stood near frozen in the way.

“This sounds exactly like them nowadays.” Cirrus interrupted the story.

“Yeah, no, she’s right.” Rain agreed.

“I’m trying to build up to something here.” Water argued, displeased at the distraction.

“Build up, schmuild up. Can we at least get something to drink if you’re gonna take so long?” She asked.

Water looked at her quite the same way an old man would look at a little girl; completely appalled by what he perceived as a lack of manners, “Fine.” He relented, desperate to finish the story now that he’d started.

December 20, 1967

With brother Gerald unable to continue decorating with a broken wrist, Sister had assigned herself to pick up the slack. It wasn’t an easy task, considering she still had to run around the entire abbey to check up on everything and everyone else in the meantime, Yule drawing ever closer.

Every time one of the knots she was tying didn’t work out properly made her want to burst out into tears. She’d give anything for it all to just be done already.

The sudden sound of a wolf whistle nearly made her fall off the ladder Gerald style, “It’s looking great from down here.” Nihil kept the ladder steady between his hands, content with the view he got up Sister’s skirt.

She was about to thank him, before looking down and realizing just where his attention was at, quickly scampering down to smack him over the back of the head.

“Have some Satan forsaken manners. I’m a lady.” She scolded him.

“You are? I almost didn’t notice under all those layers of stress.” He kept a hand above his eyes, as if trying to spot something in the far distance.

She wasn’t in the mood to put up with him, grabbing her clipboard with various checklists and wordlessly starting her rounds through the abbey. Anything to get away from him.

“Come on now, cara. Don't be like that,” He jogged after her again, “I’m just teasing a bit.”

“Nihil!” She turned around in a hurry, screaming louder than she probably ever had before. The other people in the hall all froze and gasped, unable to comprehend the disrespect of her calling him by his name, “I am trying my very fucking best to get everything done in time! All you have ever done is be a distraction to me and get in my way! Please, please for the love of all that is unholy, fuck off! I’m not going to sleep with you, I don’t want anything to do with you! Do your job and let me do mine!”

Had she not fully reached her limit, Sister may have noticed the genuine shock sculpted into his features. Nihil didn’t dare to move, let alone let out so much as a whisper. Never in his life had he been yelled at like this by anyone other than his father.

His voice was barely audible when he finally did gather the strength to say something, “Suora… I’m sor-“ But she was already off again, still trying to pour some semblance of focus into her tasks.

People stared. First at her, but soon, afraid to meet her gaze and wrath, they only looked at him. They wondered if he would retaliate. As Papa, he had every right to excommunicate her on the spot. But he did nothing. He stayed in place and watched after her even as she rounded the corner.

“This still just sounds negative.” Rain was the one who interjected this time, blowing cool air over his cup of tea, “I thought you said the old man’s tricks worked at some point.”

“I’m getting there!” Water banged his fists on the table frustratedly, causing some of his and Cirrus’ drinks to spill onto the table.

“Well, get to it.” Cirrus complained again.

December 21, 1967

Sister’s self loathing was at an all time high as she looked into the mirror. Her makeup was streaked and blurry from tears.

If everything was not done before tonight, surely she’d lose all credibility before she even fully had it. Any hope for a promotion or higher function in the clergy could surely be kissed goodbye.

She took a deep breath, telling herself empty motivational words before reapplying her makeup and getting ready to step out.

Her priority was now to make sure everyone under her leadership got everything done first. If push came to shove she could blame Gerald’s unfinished room on his injury. It was the last thing on her long list of worries for now.

Getting around to everyone, she had to say she was pleasantly surprised by the progress. Some teams had already been on, or even ahead of schedule, but nearly all areas seemed to be in order at that point.

Not only that, but everyone seemed in much higher spirits. They looked less stressed themselves, less exhausted and overworked. Perhaps it was just the Yule spirit getting to everyone.

“Angela, you did a stellar job with this.” Sister complimented, eyes gleaming with the reflection of the candles that decorated every hallway.

“I couldn’t possibly take all the credit. The ghouls were a great help.” She smiled gratefully.

“Ghouls?” Sister asked. She didn’t know the ghouls would get involved, they never did.

“Yeah, didn’t you send them?” Angela’s voice slowed down over the course of the sentence, clearly just as confused.

Without another word, Sister made her way through all the impeccably decorated halls and rooms, trying desperately to find the one she knew would be responsible. Just about the only person with any power over the ghouls.

“Nihil…” It was her voice’s turn to be soft. As she rounded the corner into the room that had been Gerald’s, then her responsibility, she met the sight of the whole band.

Air was floating up to finally complete decorations on the chandelier, no ladder needed. Fire went around to light every candle that illuminated the room. Water was on the floor, tinkering with the aforementioned ladder to make sure it wouldn’t as easily topple down in the future. Earth was using a broom to clear up the floor. And finally, Nihil, who sat on the floor next to Water, unable to help other than holding onto the removed screws and handing the ghoul any tools from the toolbox he asked for.

“Sister.” He stood up in a hurry as soon as he heard her, quickly glancing around for a place he could put the screws. Without looking up, Water offered his own hand for storage, which Nihil immediately accepted.

He quickly walked to Sister, steps slowing down the closer he got to leave some distance between them.

They looked at each other for a moment. Although Sister had meant some parts of her speech yesterday, she hadn’t wanted to berate Nihil quite like she did. A lot of it had come from a place of stress.

Nihil, meanwhile, had felt terrible. He knew he could be a bit of an asshole sometimes, and he usually didn’t care. But seeing just how deep underneath her skin he’d gotten was like a wake up call. He clearly took things too far.

“I’m sorry.” They said simultaneously. Nihil smiled softly at that, while Sister was still stuck in place.

“I shouldn’t have yelle-“ She started.

“No, no, suora. That was my own fault. I, uhm…” He wanted to go into it further, apologize with his whole chest, fall to the floor and beg forgiveness, maybe. But alas, his ego prevented him from any further admissions of guilt, “I tried to make it up to you.” He gestured towards the work being done in the room, stepping a little closer in the hope that she’d let him.

“Thank you for that.” Finally Sister didn’t back away, allowing herself to smile as well. That was until she saw Nihil’s eyes dart up, quickly trying to snatch something away.

“Stupid,” She caught a glimpse of the mistletoe between his fingers, “The ghouls put that there.” He spoke fast, trying to defend himself, before promptly throwing the plant away behind him.

She shut him up quickly with a simple peck on his cheek.

“Thanks again,” Her smile widened ever so slightly, “I take it you’ll finish up in here, I still need to run past the kitchens.” Without waiting for a response she was already off.

Whether she realized it at the time or not, that simple gesture was enough for Nihil to latch onto her. Although he tried being more helpful along the way, this event was ultimately the start of what brought them together.

“And that’s the story of why to this day we’re always stuck doing the hard and tedious jobs.” Water finally got to end his own story.

The other two sat with all the new information for a second, letting it all sink in.

“So why are they back at square one now?” Rain wondered.

Water sighed, though not at the question but the memories, “Papa has always been an immovable object. He does not change, no matter how much effort he puts into fooling people he has. It took less than two years for her to find out the hard way.”

“But he still wants her, specifically?” Cirrus questioned further.

“Hey, I’m not inside his brain. I can’t explain everything he does. I always just assumed there was something different about her. Perhaps it's more of a hard-to-get game for him.”

Silence overtook the table again, the younger ghouls unsure of what to do with their newfound knowledge.

[My Main Masterlist | Domestic December Masterlist]

[delusion-of-negation]

gross and racist as hell for you all to dogpile and harrass a black trans person for calling you out on being a fucking gross pedophile/pedo defender, CALL THEM HOMOHOBIC for thinking thats fucked up, exclusively she/her him bc him being trans doesnt fit the narrative youre peddling, imply shes never dealt with transphobia or homophobia, CLAIM THEYRE RACEFAKING and then turn around and be racist as hell to them, and then evade their blocks to screenshot their posts and continue to try to start shit with him when hes expressed that he wants you freaks to leave him alone…. all while doubling down that being a p*do is ok as long as youre “non offending”. i have to laugh !

also, claiming that people who criticize you for being a p*do apologist are being homohobic to you, IS homophobia. dont equate being lgbta with being a p*do/p*do apologist. wtf is wrong w u

- a trans person, before you arbitrarily decide im cis, too

my brother in christ, the full context is linked here for y'all to see

we didn't "dogpile" anyone, what happened was somebody was posting, tagging seebs and commenting on posts, incessantly. specifically, falsely accusing seebs of being a pedo/defender, in response to seebs saying, very clearly, somebody who does not sexually assault children is preferable to somebody who does. it obviously was nonsensical, and I said to seebs that I didn't know exactly how, in the current political climate, people could go out falsely accusing random queer people of being pedos... then the random asshole started replying to my reblogs and telling me to unalive, then started sending me hate messages saying that too because, apparently, just saying "that's bullshit" warrants stupid harassment. having followers myself, this obviously led to those agreeing with me weighing in too, I can't and won't tell people to avoid expressing their opinions when someone harasses me. it's definitely not "calling me out" to send messages telling me that.

not to "they started it!!" but yeah, if I speak to someone about it actually being ridiculous that you're harassing them, and so you begin randomly harassing and suicide baiting me, I will respond.

again, you can see in the link, on every single post I used they, it explicitly says "any pronouns" and "I'm a boy and a girl" on there, meaning I didn't "correct" this person who said "she" because I'd literally read that it's fine to use that!! I said they were enabling a homophobic narrative, I said they prop up the "queers are pedos actually" bullshit by doing this, I made no claims of knowing any secret homophobia dwelling in their heart lmao. you read on the person's blog that I she/her'd them and didn't bother reading to discover that I actually didn't do that, you just believed their lies. reading the above linked posts will make it obvious how they are endlessly lying about the race of people involved and what they actually said - I didn't she/her them, and they cut up a sentence within seebs post, to imply something that clearly was not said.

not once did I deny their race or their status as trans/bi, again it simply is a crock of shit they're spinning, because they have this narrative to spin- I've linked back to everything said, I've made it absolutely clear time and time again, I've posted full screens for anything I referenced, whereas they keep vagueposting saying I misgendered them or called them white or even called them the pedophile (I did not, I was and am explicitly against doing that). everything they're claiming in their vagues is bullshit, and all the evidence is in actually reading the conversation, which is why I'll constantly link back to it and they'll constantly obfuscate it, bro. because nowhere did I deny they face bigotry, nowhere did I say anything about racefaking (white chicks is a movie about black dudes pretending to be white chicks, saying they talk as though they're auditioning for a remake is explicitly saying they're black talking like a white chick, please just go watch the damn movie).

similarly, I was never racist, I never block evaded, unless you are saying they also block evaded- they continued talking about me incessantly, lying about me, and I found out, so I screenshotted posts and corrected them, I never tried to contact them again, I simply corrected constant lies about me, meanwhile they did go around said block to keep looking at my blog too, referencing all those posts themself, so they did exactly what I did. if it's bad if somebody lying about me is shown to me and I respond, isn't it equally bad that said person evades the block right back? that's honestly one of the most baffling claims y'all keep making, it's a problem when I simply look at lies about me and leave you be, it however isn't a problem for you to tell those lies, message me to suicide bait, and keep looking at my blog despite those blocks?? speaking of hypocrisy, you're attempting (and failing) to dogpile.

being a pedo is okay as long as you're non-offending. like, yes I'll double down on that. heck, I'll go a step further, I think that any person who's committed a crime or harm deserves to have their liberty, life, happiness, etc, and shouldn't be tortured or harmed because of this stupid desire to punish everyone. I'm a victim of childhood sexual abuse and childhood abuse and torture when I was a child, and I put one abuser in prison, and it didn't help the person become better and kinder, they sent me what was really basically a love letter when they got out. I think a better system, where people get to learn how to be kind and then get a life that treats them well, is possible and should be strived for, and one a victim gets help to recover from what happened should also be, because right now the mental health system in my country (not america, which y'all also don't seem to have grasped) is dogshit. people who don't abuse kids are the outcome we want, so these pedophiles, they didn't choose to have that attraction, it is just a thing brains do sometimes, and when they don't rape kids that's literally the better outcome, that's the best outcome, because it really comes down to that or them raping kids- you can't read all minds in the world and detect the pedos and kill them, and that would be a fucking dystopian nightmare, so if you want to kill all pedos then you have to rely on them telling you they're pedos, I genuinely hope I don't have to explain to you why they wouldn't confess that to you if you were running the death squad. so that leaves us with either they don't rape kids, or they do. I like don't, personally. I think that's the better one. as someone who was an actual victim of childhood abuse. and additionally, two thirds of sexual abusers of children aren't pedos, according to the stats I found a while back, so eradicating pedos wouldn't fix the issues.

anyway, back to the topic at hand, it's not starting shit to make posts correcting the person lying about you, they started all the shits, every single shit I took was in response to the shits they're spewing out about me so fast that I'm worried about their toilet.

nowhere did I say "being queer is pedo apologia!" I said that the people falsely accusing random queer people of being pedos is feeding the "the gays are pedos! the transes are pedos!" lies the rightwing constantly spin right now. I'm not equating being gay whatsoever to being a pedo, I'm saying that people do, and that refusal to think about it while you lie and call random queer folk pedophiles for your internet tough guy points is just dangerous, potentially deadly, and feeding into rightwing talking points. it's another example of you refusing to actually read what I posted, similar to your little quip at the end that relies on the false claim there was a single moment where I denied that they're trans! to further demonstrate how bullshit it is, you should check who I'd compared them to... it was blaire white. a trans person. if what I posted relied on assuming people who disagree with me are cis, where would she fit into that? why would I bring her up? maybe because I specifically was saying them being trans makes those talking points all the more dangerous... because the right will be frothing at the mouth to say "even the queers agree with us!" so referencing an example of that happening is relevant. wait, that couldn't be the case, because that would mean I didn't call them cisgender at any point!! meanwhile they're calling natives white, everybody who disagrees with them white, implying we haven't faced homophobia/transphobia/biophobia ourselves, and lying through their teeth about everything, so look in the mirror, bruh.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

“Why don’t you answer my text/message?”

Um, well, I want to but to answer takes time and thinking and dealing with emotions. I have to phrase things very, very carefully**. It struggle to me sure I can’t confuse you or offend you or be misunderstood or provoke a chain of conversation I don’t want to get into or…

I want to answer “how are things going” but I don’t want to find myself overwhelmed in a tidal wave enthusiastic, energetic, unrealistic, and utterly unsolicited advice. And I don’t want pity either.

I also don’t want to face a barrage of follow up questions and the expectation that I will explain in great detail and with full back story.

I don’t have the energy!!!!

I’m TIRED. I’m so damn tired, but trying figure out how to talk to you actually makes me more tired.

I know I need to answer.

I’m busy all day, so there is no time. Rush, rush, pushing myself as hard as I can. I don’t even carry my phone or have a way check my messages most of that time.

I tell myself I’ll do it after supper, but then it’s 9pm and if I am going to let myself sculpt and watch a movie (my only “me” time of the day) I better get cracking.

If I do answer first I am being pulled into a vortex of stress and time, with the expectation on your end that it becomes like a typed phone conversation. You think I will answer in real time, chat away with fingers flying, while I’m thinking of how I need to light the hot water heater and do the dishes and put things away and what about the laundry and how much time will I have left to watch a movie now and should I just skip it because damn I’m tired and OMG how did they get that from what I wrote…

You want rehashing, dishing dirt, dwelling on troubles I’d rather escape for a bit, and so much else I don’t really feel like or do easily.

I can do chit chat with strangers with great ease, but they aren’t expecting anything. They forget what I say by the end of the day. You expect a lot more. You often literally ask a lot more.

It was so much easier with my parents. They got me. Well, close enough. We could ramble all over the place without getting lost, because we were working from the same map. It felt more like a conversation of ideas than gossip. Talking to them was comfortable and relaxing, even fun.

I miss not having to weigh ever single damn word. They get very heavy very fast.

It feels like an act of translation. Maybe not like expressing yourself in a second language, but much more like a third you only learned in a class your took in your second language. You can do it

I tell myself I’ll answer tomorrow, after I’ve slept, when my brain is back functioning and I have the energy for a conversation. I am so, so, so TIRED!

But then the next day starts and I’m busy, busy, busy, busy…

And now you are offended. It’s been hours, why haven’t answered. I know you take it personally. I have to answer the second I get time.

It’s 11PM. I only stopped being busy. If I write now I’ll be heading to bed past midnight, AGAIN. I’m so tired.

I don’t want to bother you if you are still up, because I know your nature is to reply in minutes.

I tell myself I’m thinking of you by not answering tonight. Letting you not have to respond or deal with listening to my troubles before bed.

But it’s me. I’m tired.

I want to talk to someone so much, to vent and ramble, peppering it with things that have caught my interest … as is my nature.

But that isn’t the kind of conversation you want.

And so I wait, wait for the time I never have and the energy that always drains away, wait for my brain to have the strength to pull replicating your wiring for a bit…

And then, when I can wait no more I send something, fumbly and awkward. And you misunderstand or get attached to a tangent or get intrusive in your eagerness to help or…

Or, honestly, I get so embarrassed by how long it is taking me to reply I end up just hoping for one of my tech problems so I can have an excuse to apologize, and the apology will be a nice space filler for the conversation I’m not up to having.

I want to answer “How are things going?” with “Exhausting”. If I do, do you promise to let me stop there and go sleep?

No, that would seem terse and rude, so completely out of character from my verbose style that it would cause trouble.

I dunno. I think I will sleep on it. Again.

** NOT an issue on Tumblr. It isn’t that I trust you will understand any better, or even that you are more like hypothetical people that might possibly read my posts, but that the real world implications of misunderstanding are just so much lower. Accidentally get on someone’s wrong side here, and what, get unfollowed or some nasty anonymous messages? Get misunderstood by a person you know in the real world and you could end up severing a crucial connection, like “who is gonna give me a lift when my car breaks down now?!?”

[timeoverload]

I'm finally home so I can write now. I needed time to think about what I want to say anyway.

I think that we need to stop worrying about the past. We need to focus on the present moment and the future. There's no point in dwelling on things we can't change. I am not going to go through life feeling angry and resentful. It's important for us to learn from our mistakes and grow.

I know you have been sad but I couldn't figure out why. I know that you are upset about having to leave your old life behind. I know you had plans for the future with your ex that fell through. I can imagine that it's also more difficult when there is a child involved. I know you have been feeling lost and alone. I know that I can't replace her. I am afraid that I wouldn't be able to make you as happy as she did but I would try my best.

I can empathize with you because I know how much it sucks to have to start over. For a while, I thought I had everything figured out. My relationship with my ex wasn't always bad. I was happy in the beginning and it progressively got worse over time. I ignored a lot of red flags. I remember looking for a house with him and planning to get married. We had talked about having a family someday. I just knew that I couldn't spend the rest of my life with someone who hurt me in every way possible. He used to be my best friend and now I have no one around. It just wasn't meant to be. I don't miss him at all and most of the time I forget that he even exists. Hopefully he is doing well wherever he is. I am still glad that I left but I have been very lonely for years now.

I know that our previous relationships didn't work out for a reason. I think that may have happened so that we could discover true happiness. I think that we could find that together.

I also think you are too hard on yourself. I've always felt like you are too cool for me and I'm boring. I didn't realize that you felt ashamed about anything. I think that's what you are trying to tell me anyway. I don't want you to feel that way. I'm not going to be judgemental and I appreciate your honesty.

I know you feel guilty for a lot of things that have happened. I know there were a lot of things that you didn't understand until later and that's ok. I can't be mad at you for responding the way you did.

It's ok if you don't make a lot of money because I don't care about that. I have been poor most of my life so I'm used to it. I'm not very materialistic. I don't want your money, I want you.

I know you can't support me and that's part of the reason I have been wanting to apply for disability. I don't want to rely on someone else for everything because I would feel guilty. I could possibly work part-time but I don't know what I would do. I really don't want to stay where I'm at because it's going to kill me. I know I will figure it out eventually.

It's also ok if you don't have a car. I understand how that would make your life more difficult. There have been many times in my life when I have been without one and I know it sucks. I am kind of wondering if the reason you don't have a car is because you got in trouble in the past a couple times.

Please don't be mad at me but I got a background check on you last year because I wanted to know what I was getting myself into. I didn't know that much about you at the time. You were so secretive so I felt like I needed to for some peace of mind. Most of the information I got from it was very vague so I don't know any details about anything. I am sorry for violating your privacy.

It doesn't bother me that you have things on your record. It's nothing too serious from what I could tell. I just hope that you make better choices in the future. We all make mistakes and it's ok.

You said something about your music taste lacking which I doubt is true. I already know you and I like a lot of the same music. I remember getting made fun of for a lot of the music I liked and it made me hesitant to share what I like to listen to. That also made me feel like my taste in music was lacking so I understand how you feel.

You also said that you aren't good looking. I strongly disagree with that statement because you are extremely attractive. You are very handsome. Your hair always looks good regardless of what length it is. I like the way you dress and you always look nice. I wish you could see yourself through my eyes. I think you are very smart and talented. You know how to make me laugh. I think you are a wonderful person and I adore you.

Anyway, if you want to hang out sometime, I could drive to your house or pick you up. I am not a great driver but I would try not to scare you too much. We could go for a walk somewhere or something. I know you have Sundays off most of the time and I usually don't have plans on the weekends so we could do that if you want. I don't have your phone number or address so you would have to send me a message. You have always had my permission to message me any time. I am afraid to message you again because of the response I got last time. I don't want to scare you or make you uncomfortable. I'm ready whenever you are. It's up to you.

I'm not trying to put pressure on you. I am being as patient as I possibly can. I'm not sure how to make this situation less stressful for you. We could make this as casual as you want. I could show up in my natural state if that would be less intimidating. I don't always like to wear make-up and usually I'm a mess. I don't know how to make myself less scary. I would appreciate it if you could let me know what I need to do whenever your ready. I guess if you really want to wait until July then I will just have to deal with it I suppose. I don't want to wait that long but I also don't want to push you to do anything you aren't ready for.

I do think we need each other and our lives would improve a lot if we were together. We can help each other. I hope we can figure stuff out sometime soon. Maxwell, I love you with all my heart!💖💖💖

Anyway, it was a pretty easy day for me. This whole week is going to be easy except for Thursday. 2 of the doctors are gone so I don't have any cases in the morning until Thursday. I sat down for more than an hour this morning while I waited for sets to come through the washer. I am enjoying the break from all of the walking. I only had 9 cases this afternoon and they weren't going very fast. It was nice to be able to relax and take my time. I wish it was always like that.

I am worried about my mom still. She has been blowing up my phone all day. I have her muted because she sends hundreds of messages sometimes but I still check them from time to time. I don't know what she is doing right now. She was talking about hanging out by some train tracks so that's concerning. She is very depressed. She was telling me about how she has problems with her legs and I think her back is probably more messed up than mine. She is very unhealthy. I keep telling her to come home and maybe it will sink in eventually. She seemed to have a moment of clarity when I briefly explained some of the health problems that I was dealing with. She actually gave me logical advice so that was surprising. She told me her battery was dying and that's the last thing I heard from her. There's nothing I can do and it sucks.

I am going to try not to worry about stuff too much and relax while I can. I have been writing for hours and I still have things I need to do tonight. I think that tomorrow should be a good day.

I hope everyone else has a great day tomorrow! Thanks for listening to me ramble. 💖💖💖

[hero2222]

Story: An Angel's weakness

Selina, the Princess of Hell, couldn't shake the feeling that something was off with Alan, the prodigy angel who served as the head of the student council at their High School. Observing his recent behavior, she sensed a change in him that went beyond their usual rivalry.

Entering the student council room, Selina found Alan buried in paperwork, his usually sharp wit dulled by exhaustion. "Hey, Alan, you look like you've been burning the midnight oil," she remarked, unable to mask her concern.

Alan's response was curt. "Just trying to ensure everything runs smoothly for the upcoming events," he replied, his tone lacking its usual playful banter.

"That's not like you," Selina pressed, taking a seat opposite him. "You're usually the first to crack a joke or challenge me to a debate."

Alan sighed, his frustration evident. "I'm just focused on my responsibilities," he insisted, his eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability.

"Why?" Selina prodded, unable to ignore the tension between them. "You know you're already the top student here. What's really bothering you?"

Alan hesitated, his facade crumbling as he struggled to articulate his feelings. "It's not about being the best," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's about... not disappointing everyone who believes in me."

Selina's heart softened at Alan's confession. Despite their rivalry, she couldn't deny the respect and admiration she held for him. "You don't have to carry the weight of the world on your shoulders, Alan," she reassured him, reaching out to gently touch his hand. "You're allowed to have moments of weakness. That's what makes you human."

As Alan's tension began to ease, he took a shaky breath, his voice tinged with sorrow. "I can't afford to mess up," he confessed, tears welling up in his eyes. "Not after what happened with... him."

Selina's brow furrowed in concern. "Who do you mean? Your brother?" she ventured, trying to piece together the puzzle of Alan's past.

Alan shook his head, his gaze distant. "No, not him," he murmured. "It's... someone else. Someone I looked up to... someone I thought would always be there for me."

A pang of sympathy tugged at Selina's heart as she watched Alan struggle with his emotions. "You don't have to face this alone, Alan," she whispered, offering him a reassuring smile. "We're all here to support you, myself included."

As his tears continued, Selina rested a hand on Alan's shoulder. "You don't have to worry about me leaving. You're stuck with me as your vice president, remember?" she joked, causing him to crack a smile.

"Yeah..." Alan responded softly, resting his head on his desk, finally allowing himself to relax.

"You don't have to put on a mask for me," Selina continued, her voice gentle. "I know you're determined, kind, smart, and quick-witted... That's what I-" She cut herself off with a blush, realizing her words were veering into unfamiliar territory.

Before she could dwell on it further, she glanced over at Alan's face and noticed that he had finally drifted into a peaceful sleep, his features relaxed in slumber.

"Rest well, president," Selina whispered, a soft smile gracing her lips. "I'll be right here if you need me."

With a sense of warmth and camaraderie, Selina stayed by Alan's side, ready to support him through whatever challenges lay ahead. And perhaps, in the quiet of the student council room, they would both find the courage to confront their feelings and take the next step in their evolving relationship.

[prettysuper]

"Not with that, I didn't. There was no way I'm letting a stranger down there and I'm sure as hell not going near theirs." Kon laughed softly. "I didn't used to care so much with hook-ups. Like obviously, I wanted us both to have fun. But it means a lot more when we do stuff. I still want you to be able to find me attractive afterwards." He confessed.

"You can always assume my consent until I use our word." Kon kissed him back, before ironically having to use that word on Krypto. He turned his attention at the bark, booping his snoot and saying "Iovis, zha!" ("Stop that!") Before turning his attention back to Timothy and nuzzling him back. "You just want to hear another one of my fantasies.", Kon teased. "I think you already know the biggest one. I want to fuck you so badly. But I want to take my sweet time getting there. I plan on sticking around so there's no rush. I really want it to be good for you too. As for one you maybe don't know? I really liked when you told me to restrain myself earlier. Tying me up sometime could be fun. You could do it before class, try and concentrate when you know I'm all spread out for you at home. Oh and toys. You could get one of those remote controlled ones and use it on me throughout the day - or whenever you wanna keep me in line." He grinned before the smile fell at the next question. There was one thing Kon hadn't shared with him that was bothering him.

"You told me not to mark you anymore. It's not a big deal, I get why. It's your body, I'll respect that." He didn't dwell on that topic, moving forward to the last question quickly. "One more ability? That's tough. What can't I do already?" Kon bragged, before settling on one without much hesitation. For all his bravdo it's clearly something he's thought about before. "Foresight. I wish I could see the future. Maybe then I wouldn't make so many dumb decisions."

Reluctantly, Kon patted Krypto to make the dog roll over so he could get up and opened his drawer to pull on a pair of boxer briefs. He picked up his shades and slid them on before leaning over to kiss Tim goodbye, giving him a chance to respond to anything he'd said before opening the bedroom window to leave.

Knowing Kon saw Bart every day for a race and a hug made his chest feel lighter. Timothy had lost both of them and he had no idea how long Bart was truly dead because of his connection with the time stream so he imagined decades. The man had such a hard time with his imposter syndrome when they first met and it only grew worse with death. “He needs all the hugs he can get.” was softly agreed and rewarded with another kiss to that forehead at the hair line. 

Maybe one day, he mused internally over going to space with Kon-El. Even f it was just to see that view. It made the gears in the back of that mind turn, planning without diving too deep. Their talk last night prepared him to eventually say goodbye to Kon-El when space took him off on adventures. 

That hand was released as the bed shifted with heavy weight moving up. Krypto was awake, those paws nearly got Timothy’s dick, but he shifted so they pressed on his hip. The sound of those licks made Timothy cringe, but he remained, head tilted back more to escape any of that drool as his face twisted when it felt that hot saliva on his flesh. The now free hand reached out to pat the dog’s hard head, enjoying the smooth skin and coarse sleekness of that touch. “This is also why I had us covered,” he noted. 

“It does help to know I was not the only one concerned about it. You have a lot more experience than I do with sexual things, so it is also nice to know you were worried. Makes me feel like we are a bit more equal.” That hand left Krypto’s head to touch Kon’s chest, pushing a paw out of the way to get some skin-to-skin. A quick-growing favorite feel with Kon-El. 

“Hey, I was not giving you ammo to work with. Well, every now and then would be fun. You have my consent for the future.” Just saying that brought some color to his cheeks which may have been missed in the dim lights but he could feel the warmth at all but asking for it in their rotation. “Yeah? I’ll ramble when you don’t.” he teased, shifting lower to find those lips so he could kiss Kon gently, wanting that press he enjoyed so much. Krypto barked at them, causing one of Timothy’s hands to blindly reach out and gently push that snout back, which Krypto wrestled from his touch. 

Pulling back, Timothy bumped his nose against Kon-El’s. “What would you like to explore more sexually for us? Have I triggered anything recently that you did not address with me? If you could have one more ability, what would it be?”

[anime-rambles]

"OMEGA STOP PART 1"

Pairing: Alpha Bakugou x Alpha Kirishima x Omega Reader

Type: ABO Dynamic, Angst, blood, SFW

Word Count: 2900+

A/N: Seeing how everyone is loving “Welcome Home Omega” I decided to do another omegaverse fic this time with lots of angst. Thank you so much for all the kind words, reblogs, likes and follows. Was thinking of making a Part 2 for this? What do you think?

Summary: Omega y/n returns home to her alpha’s after being away in Europe, thinking she would be able to re-join her alphas and be happy. Only to discover they move on without her.

Link to Part 2 = https://anime-rambles.tumblr.com/post/657712192264814592/omega-stop-part-2

************************************************************************

I collect my suitcase from baggage claim and make my way towards the arrivals gate. It has been an incredibly long 8 years since I’ve been back home in Japan. After graduating UA with all my friends, I decided I needed a new path, something exciting that didn’t include my alphas. Being away from my family and friends has been one of the most difficult things to go through and more importantly being away from my alphas. It was nice to be needed and not just because of my second gender.

After graduating UA, I joined Fatgum’s agency and from there I met Jackie one of fat’s previous partners on the drug squad. She needed a bright new hero that wanted to work outside of Japan and head off a special unit in charge of investigating quirk enhancing drugs. At first everyone was onboard and excited fir me but as time went on, it was becoming increasing hard to keep in contact with my busy alphas. So, one Christmas, two years into the job we all agreed to stop dating and put our relationship on hold, until I was finished with the special unit or until one of the alphas said enough, come home. I agreed happily, never thinking I would get the come home call, but here I am. I left Europe and returned home.

The doors of arrivals opened in front of me, I look around the barrier hoping to see either of my boys, Bakugou or Kirishima, but neither blonde nor red head could be seen. I walk the corner a small bit, thinking they might be hiding but nothing. I spot movement in the distant, a blur of pink rushing to my arms, knocking me off balance.

“YYYY/NNNN, I CAN’T BELIEVE YOUR HOME” Mina sobs into my ear. “Mina” I say back hugging her tightly. Out of everyone in UA Mina stayed in constant contact with my updating me on the group’s latest gossip and everyone hero’s ranking. “Come on, lets get you home” She speaks again, taking one of my bags and my hand in hers. I smile to her and gladly accept her hand. Mina is an omega like me, after UA her and Sero got together and currently have a beautiful house and a serval fluffy cats. Once we reach the car and start our journey. Mina tells me of everyone, what they are doing and what is planned for my coming home party tonight.

“Wait, slow down, where are you taking me first” I say, laughing at her excitement. With her hands on the car wheel. She says “Bakugou and Kirishima’s” I pause for a second. They must just be living together and not actually still together without, right? They wouldn’t betray me, would they? These thoughts are fully my head, maybe coming home wasn’t a good idea. I should have ignored the “come home” agreement. What if they just want to use me to have their kid and toss me aside.

“Y/N, please say something, you made me promise not to talk about the boys when were away and right now you’re kinda scaring me.” She presses.

“I’m… just thinking. So out with it tell me what has been going on, why are they living together.” I asked shifting in my seat to look at her and she drives down the straight road.

“Okay, so it started whe….”

Mina basically said what I thought she might after I left fully and didn’t come back like we agreed. Kirishima and Bakugou stopped for a while, they didn’t live together, socialise or anything but after Kirhisma was badly injured in a battle, they moved back in with each other and kept their relationship quiet, it’s been 6 years, that they been together while I have been alone.

“So that’s basically all of it y/n, I’m sorr…”

I cut her off, “Mina this is not for you to apologise for, you kept your promise to me and now I must face the music as they say in Europe.” We had arrived outside their house ages ago, but we ended up talking. I step out of the car and move to grab my bags. I look up to the house, it’s huge and white. Very modern and what’s looks to be very expensive. But what can you expect from the Number 1 and Number 5 heroes in Japan. Mina steps out and comes to my side of the car to hug me goodbye and to tell me the information for tonight. Just then the front door opens, Kirishima steps out with a huge grin on his face. He has changed a lot since I left. He is like a wall, thick with muscle and sporting a high red ponytail.

“There she is,” Kirishima says, holding out his arms as he makes his way down the path towards me. I drop my bags and run to him. I can be anger later, but right now I need this hug. “Here I am,” I say back to him, I took my face into his neck to breathe him in, he tries to do the same but it is unable as I have my marks and scent glands covered as Europe has different rules than us. I can sense the confusion and say I will explain later. Kirishima greats Mina and they discuss briefly about this evening's plans and Mina is off on her way, waving goodbye. With his arm around me, he guides me inside towards the kitchen. We each stand on opposite sides of the Island, not knowing what to say first.

“So, where’s Bakugou? I thought you would both be at the airport” I say frankly to him, showing my frustrations. “He had to work, but he should be back home soon,” Kirishima replies shuffling his feet. I stare at him, I want to voice my anger, I want him to know how much I hurt, I need to do this with Bakugou. “Okay” I reply looking at my bags, why did I come here, why did I think we could go back to normal. “He’ll probably be late like always though, why don’t show you to your room and you can get ready for this evening” He smiled at me, like he trying to form an olive branch between us. I nod and follow him out of the room and up the stairs. All around me are reminders, parties I could not attend, award shows I missed but right now I can’t dwell on that. My time in Europe was the best experience of my life and right now I want to go back. Kirishima leads me to a guest room and leaves me to get ready. I sigh, this is going to be difficult.

************************************************************************

Doing the finishing touches to my hair, I smooth my dress down as I look in the mirror. I’m wearing a tight-fitting black dress, that is off the shoulders. I rub my hands down my neck, wishing I could have had the surgery to remove my mark guards yesterday before I came home. Just to show them, that I kept my promise to them. I hear noises downstairs, Bakugou had arrived home ages ago but did not even come to say hello, just went straight to the shower. Although I know what Mina told me was true, I needed proof if I was to enter an argument with Bakugou. I walk a small bit from my room trying to stay quiet, I turn a corner and see a wall of photo frames, most are from UA and some are from Dates we three had together. The difference, I was no longer in the photos, I was cut out. You could see my arm or a sliver of my hair and maybe an eye. I felt rejection, my inner omega whined. Why would they do this to me? I ripped the frame from the walls and marched downstairs. My heels clicked on the floor beneath me. I rounded the corner and enter the kitchen not bothering to wait for their conversation to finished. I throw the frames onto the countertop and look up at both of them making eye contact. If I wasn’t so mad and hurt, I would be shocked at how mature and sexy they both are right now. Kirishima's hair is half up, half down being supported with braids and he is in a maroon shirt opened slightly. Whereas Bakugou wears a white shirt and supports an undercut. My alphas have matured, I suppose I have as well.

Kirishima looks at the frames and stays quiet. Bakugou does not dare to break eye contact with me.

“So, let me get this straight. I leave home, to become great in something that is bigger than me. I leave my alphas with an agreement, that we all would hit pause, and eventually I would come back or get a called from either of you to come home. I follow the rules, and it seems to me what I got in thanks was to be cut from your lives.” I raise my voice, guesting to the pile in front of me.

“tck…” Bakugou replies and looks at Kirishima.

“Don’t tck me Bakugou, it seems to me that I’m not even wanted here anymore, so why was I called home, let me guess you need an omega to have your child and then I’m to disappear,” I respond. “No that’s not why we called you back” Kirishima speaks up, slightly walking towards to appear less hostile.

“Funny how you call us your alphas but yet, our marks, our bond is no longer on your neck,” Bakugou responds, pointing towards me. “They are not gone, they are covered by a skin slip, in Europe is safer to have them covered in case you are kidnapped and forced to bond with someone,” I say back to him. “Omega, please let us explain, I understand your hurt, but we want you still, your part of our family,” Kirishima replies placing a hand on my elbow. I jerk away from him.

“So, all this time, when I was away, suffering through my heats alone. Omega depression after omega depression. You two, were what? Together happily rutting away.”

“Yes, how do we know you never had it off with anyone else,” Bakugou said leaning on the Island in front of me. “Bakugou, don’t say that -” Kirishima scolded him. “- we don’t think that y/n”. I stand there shocked; I can sense he is hurt but right now I will not be his vent.

“ah, I see, I was away fucking my way through Europe apparently and my alphas decided that instead of coming to see me and to tell me. They went behind my back” I stare at Bakugou not daring to back down. “How do we know you weren’t, how do we know you didn’t get our marks removed?” Bakugou asked.

I scuffed and turned out of the kitchen, towards my bags that were left at the bottom of the stairs. Both Alphas stayed in the kitchen and spoke to each other. I opened my bags and reached into it to find a wrapped plastic bag. I walked back into the kitchen, hearing Bakugou raising his voice at Kirishima, “I can’t Kiri, you almost died.” Kirishima hushed Bakugou as I re-entered the kitchen. I threw the bag at Bakugou.

“Go on, open it -” I say with my hands on my hips. “- There’s your proof” I stand and watch it. Bakugou opens the bag and pulls out two jumpers, one of his and one of Kirishima’s. Their scent has well worn out but mine could be smelled. Years of being alone, years of depression, laid in their hands. Kirishima’s eye watered. “This proves nothing, maybe if you weren’t lying about our mark being gone, we wouldn’t have this problem,” Bakugou said, dropping the jumpers on the countertop. “What do you want me to do, perform surgery right now, you know once you never doubted me” I laugh under my breath.

“Yeah well once, you weren’t such a slut, betraying your alp-“Bakugou responded but Kirishima stepped in creating a barrier between us. Tears started to form in my eyes, my vision blurred. Fine, if Bakugou wants proof right now that I was loyal then fine, I’ll give it to him.

I look at my nails and smile to myself, I thank whatever god is listening that I have long pointed nails today. Kirishima is currently speaking to Bakugou, standing in front of me. I can no longer hear him. All I know is, those skin slips have to go now. I take a deep breath in and dig my nails into my neck around where the stitched used to be. I whimper, both can smell blood and turn to look at me. I rip the slip from my skin, blood starts to pour from my neck but nothing that would majorly hurt me. I reach for the other and dig my nails in. “Y/n stop, what are you doing” Kirishima reaches to stop me, but he’s too late I pulled the other off and make eye contact with Bakugou. “You wanted your proof, here you are Bakugou, take a whiff I have NEVER BETRAYED EITHER OF YOU” I scream, throwing the slips onto the counter and storm off.

“Omega come back now” Bakugou shouts after me, I can hear him chase me and reach for my arm. I pull it forward and turn to face him. Tear are leaving my eyes, ruining my makeup, my dress ruined from the blood. “What Katsuki, you believe me now? What do you want from me, why are you mad?” Bakugou stands in shock, unable to talk. “ANSWER ME NOW,” I scream again. Bakugou reaches forward grabbing my arms, tears forming in his. Kirishima was leaning on the door behind him.

“HE ALMOST DIED, AND YOU WEREN’T THERE, I WAS ALONE, WATCHING HIM DIE AND YOU WERENT THERE, YOU PROMISED ME I’D NEVER BEEN ALONE, AND YOU LEFT ME ALONE WAITING FOR HIM TO COME BACK” he roared at me. I shoved Bakugou off me.

“I CAME HOME WHEN EIJIROU WAS IN HOSPITAL” I shouted back, both alphas heads shot straight up and looked at me. “I was there, I broke me promise to stay away until I was asked by either of you to come home. But I saw the fight, I saw Eijirou get knockdown and didn’t get back up. I hopped on the nearest flight and came home. You need proof, ask Fatgum, Denki, Tamaki, Deku.. anyone who sat in that waiting room.” I said looking into Bakugou's eyes. Kirishima walked forward to join us. Bakugou went to speak. “No you let me speak, I was there. Kirishima opened his eyes and called me an angel and then you shot into the room in a panic and threw yourself on him. Bakugou you looked in my eyes and didn’t say a word, so I stepped back, you saw me there, you. Don’t blame this on me. Knowing how angry you would be, Deku came and got me, promising to watch over both of you.” I stopped to wipe the tears from my eyes.

“How dare you hold that over me Katsuki Bakugou,” I say to him, Kirishima reaches for my hand as if to pull us all back together. I step back, I need to breathe to get out. I walk about the front door, grabbing my handbag. “I’ll see you at the party, some welcome home this was,” I say not looking back and slam the front door.

I walk down the path and reach for my phone, dialing Mina’s number. “Hey girly, I’m just about to leave for the pub,” Mina says down the phone. I start to cry and sit down on the curb. “Sero, wait a second” Mina whispers away from the phone. “Y/n, what’s happened, what’s going on,” She says again her voice has lowered. “Mina I need some help; I can’t see everyone looking like this,” I say back to her. I cry again, I can hear the door behind me open and I stand. I turn and see Kirishima, “Y/n wait please, come back in, we can sort this out,” he says, and I look over his shoulder. Bakugou is frozen in the same spot, staring at the floor. “I’m almost there, start walking to me,” Mina says and hangs up. I bend down and undo the straps of my heels, steeping out of them leaving them on the step. I start to run down the street, I need some quiet, I need to think.

“OMEGA STOP” Bakugou shouts behind me, but I can’t. I see Mina’s car and run towards it.

[221bshrlocked]

Fever in my Eyes

Pairing: The Mandalorian (Din Djarin) x Reader

Words: 8.5K (yeesh)

Warnings: Smut and Angst, my two faves. Blindfold. Breeding Kink!!! Things are consensual from both sides but since this is a sex pollen fic, some of you might consider it as non/con so please proceed with caution.

Summary: Felucia was not an ideal planet to track a quarry on and you find yourself in a sticky situation when you lose sight of the Mandalorian for a moment. An unexpected standoff between Mando and the bounty leads to you escaping back to the Razor Crest, unaware of the pollen which seeped into your nostrils and past your skin. What will the bounty hunter do once he realizes what you’re asking of him? And more importantly, is it worth risking whatever relationship he has with you?

A/N: As always, I am shit with summaries. It’s a sex pollen fic yall. I apologize if my smut isn’t as good as it used to be, I am trying. Also, please please please let me know how I did in the comments. This is only my second ever Star Wars fic and I was very reluctant to post it but Pedro Pascal made me do it because I cannot stop thinking of the man so here it is. Seriously, tell me how I did and what I can do to better my writing. There will be more Din Djarin fics to come :) Enjoy. And this is not beta’d!

This was not an ideal situation, but it never was. At least not ever since you took the ‘glorified babysitter’ position offered so graciously to you months ago. A short snort made its way past your lips as you walked through the greenery and recalled how you came into caring for the child currently biting and playing with your necklace. You looked down and smiled at him, not bothering to stop him from chewing down on the colorful jewels because you knew for a fact that if Mando heard you criticizing him over something so trivial, he might scold him and make him pout. Maker, the little womp rat made it so hard to be angry with him, let alone attempt to teach him some proper manners. 

So busy playing with the Child, you didn’t notice when the bounty hunter suddenly came to a halt ahead of you. You walked right into his back and stumbled backwards, apologizing immediately when he turned around and tilted his visor to the side. You’ve grown to learn what each tild meant and at the moment, he was definitely a tad bit annoyed with you. 

“S-sorry, I’ll pay attention.” Smiling awkwardly at the man in front of you, you waited until he turned around before narrowing your eyes at the kid currently giggling at your mistake. It was amazing how often he did that, almost as if he knew he was purposely getting you in trouble for his own entertainment. 

“So you never actually told me why this bounty was so important,” your eyes searched your surroundings and marveled at the lush reaching all the way to the top of the strange trees, barely noticing the way the Mandalorian’s shoulders tensed before continuing to walk towards the edge of the forest. If there even was an edge to this jungle. Maker, this was such a weird planet, it smelled weird, it was too hot and too wet, and you sensed there was something strange with all the exotic plants beneath your feet.

When he didn’t respond, you slowly put the Child down and reached inside your satchel for a drink. As soon as the kid noticed the satchel, he waddled back to you and pulled on your cloak until you brought out his favorite blue biscuits. 

“All I’m saying is, this bounty is weird. Who hides all the way out here anyways? I mean I have never heard of this place-”

“You’ve said that about the last four quarries.” You didn’t expect him to respond and eyed him cautiously, looking between him and the kid who continued to eat his snacks and understood absolutely nothing of what you were saying. A shiver ran down your spine when you noticed the way he put the tracking fob back in his pocket before slowly reaching for the blaster pistol. Reflexes instantly kicking in, you hurried to the Child and snatched him off the ground, shushing his little coos and preparing for the worst case scenario which was always, somehow, what transpired.

Silence filled the humid air and you tried to read the bounty hunter’s body language, knowing very well he was not one to say anything unless it was perhaps a little too late for you. His visor dragged through the dried prints on the grass and before you knew it, he was taking off towards the edge of the purple and pink plants. As you followed him, you felt your throat dry much quicker than usual. Thinking it was just the extreme weather of Felucia, you decided it was best to slow down and wait until the Mandalorian caught the bounty before following his path. He’d even told you once to not follow him if you ever saw him running off because that usually meant he was close to the quarry and wouldn’t need your aid. It was a little insulting in the beginning but you were caught during a shoot-out one too many times and understood he was only trying to look out for you and the kid. 

But not even a full minute passed before you heard a sudden blast sound off from the trees above you and before you could figure out what was happening, a heavy weight landed on top of you, and you watched in horror as the kid flew out of your hand into a nearby puddle. 

Trying your hardest to grab the blaster on your hip, you cried out in pain when you felt talons digging into your arms and twist them back. You didn’t know what else to do, eyes scanning the trees in hopes of finding the Mandalorian rushing towards you. But when you realized he was nowhere around, you looked at the kid and prayed he was alright. When you saw his large eyes blinking a few times before struggling to sit up, you knew there was only one outcome. 

“Make a sound, and I will feast on your organs.” The stench of the creature filled your nostrils and you sobbed quietly at the implications behind his words. Taking one last look at the kid, you took a deep breath and pushed off the ground as hard as you can.

“MANDO!” As soon as you screamed his name, you felt three talons break the skin of your shoulder blades and drag all the way down to your lower back. You felt hot tears roll down your cheeks and hated how distressed the Child looked. Almost on queue, he was standing up and trying to waddle your way, refusing to listen to your little objections as you tried to tell him to run the opposite direction. 

Before you could dwell on the many different ways you were about to die, you heard a large blast sound through the forest, throwing the creature off of you against one of the trees with a loud cracking noise. You looked up just in time to see the familiar glint of beskar coming closer through the greenery and as you tried to stand up, you felt the same weight behind you again, twisting the talons into your hair and pulling you to your feet. 

You swallowed the lump in your throat when you felt the edge of the hunting knife against your throat. Eyes unable to focus on the figures in front of you, you blinked a few times and realized there were too many sensations hitting you. But the one seemingly outdoing all the others was the growing wet patch on your back and you soon felt sharp pain growing against your skin where the strange liquid rolled down your skin. You weren’t sure if it was blood or if it was drool from the thing behind you and a part of you didn’t care because what difference would it make. 

“Should have known you were the only crazy one to come here...come after me.” A slithering whisper made its way past your ears and your knees buckled as you started to feel faint. But then the creature held you up roughly and pressed the knife harder against your throat, warning you against falling to the ground.

“Your problem is with me T'doshok. Let her go.” You vaguely saw the Child walk towards his father, relief washing over you when you knew he was safe once more. At some point, you’ve come to care more for him than for yourself and you were never sure if it was because he was so precious or because of how important he was to the Mandalorian. 

“Aren’t we past formalities Mando? At least do me the honor of saying my name...old friend.” 

Your gaze immediately shifted from the kid to the beskar-clad man standing in front of him. So they knew each other? Why didn’t he tell you? Did he still not trust you to know such matters until now?

“ Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh.” You heard the Mandalorian growl through the visor and even though you didn’t understand what he said, you knew it was anything but friendly. Wait, that meant the T'doshok behind you understood Manod’a. 

A sob escaped your throat when you felt the bounty laugh behind you at the warning. 

“You can’t possibly mean that Mando.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think there was a hint of surprise etched in the voice growling in your ear.

“Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas...believe me.” The conscious part of your brain wondered why he continued to speak in Mando’a. He knew you didn’t understand much of it…

The silence was almost deafening and you weren’t sure what was happening until your boss stepped forward and tilted his helmet to the side,

“Gedet'ye.” The modulated voice sounded strange to your ears. He was only ever this softly-spoken with the Child.

“Well, this is unexpected. In that case-” You didn’t have time to react, watching as the world twirled around you before you fell among the purple and pink flowers you were so impressed by earlier. A strange scent hit your nostrils but you couldn’t dwell on it for more than a few seconds. Willing yourself to stand up, you pushed off the ground as soon as you saw the kid waddling towards you. As soon as he tried to walk behind you, you knew what he was trying to do and picked him up before he could do anything.

“No little guy...you- I can’t...I need to make sure you’re okay.” You could faintly hear the sound of blasters going off for a few moments and by the time you managed to take the gun out of your holster, you saw the Mandalorian standing above an unconscious reptilian creature. So that’s what a T'doshok is…

Slowly making your way towards them, you blinked away the tears and wiped your eyes to try and clear your sight. 

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” You shivered at the tone Mando was using with you. Dank Ferrik, you must have hit your head pretty hard if you thought the Mandalorian was worried about anyone but the green little thing in your arms.

“I- yes. I’ll be f-fine. Just-” You hadn’t meant to react the way you have but as soon as you felt his gloved hand touch your neck, you jerked away from him and held out your hand to stop him from coming any closer to you. Mando was shocked at your reaction and was glad to have something to hide behind. A few seconds passed in silence and you were still staring at him with wide open eyes and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think you were afraid of him. It occurred to him that it wasn’t shock that beat at his heart but a deep and twisting sense of hurt. And when he scanned your body language, he could tell you were trembling in front of him and the last thing he wanted to do was to give you another reason to fear him.

“Can you walk back to the-”

“Yes. I’ll- fu...I’ll take the kid.” Before he could say anything else, you were clutching the Child closer to your chest and walking back to the Razor Crest. You searched your mind to try and understand why you reacted the way you have to his touch but couldn’t find anything to explain the sharp pain striking through your insides. It was too much too quickly. Even though it wasn’t his skin, you felt neurons firing simultaneously as soon as he trailed his fingers down your neck. You hoped to the gods he wasn’t offended by your reaction because the last thing you needed was to drive him further away from you.

Barely making it back to the ship, you managed to go up the ladder and put the Child back in his crib in the cockpit before shutting it and locking the door behind you. Scrambling inside your mind for a moment, you turned to the ramp and walked towards the hatch before pushing in the code until it sealed shut. 

In an instant, everything touching your skin was too rough and incredibly heavy. Before you could think twice about it, you were violently stripping out of your clothes, throwing them to the ground on your way to the refresher. As soon as you walked into the small room, you turned on the cold water and sighed heavily as it beat down on your heated skin. 

“Not enough…” Crying to the empty room, you made sure the hot water wasn’t on before leaning back against the cool tiles of the walls. But no sooner than that were you hissing and pushing off of the wall. You completely forgot about the open gashes on your back and the shooting pain was almost instantaneous when you remembered just how large the wound was.

As you dwelled on the last hour or so, you felt your legs give out on you and before you knew it, you were sliding down to the floor. Eyes shutting slowly, you fell to the side and let the cold water run down your form. And as hard as you tried to stay awake, you couldn’t help your mind’s request as it begged to rest. You let sleep wash over you, the last sound ringing in your ear was Mando’s worried voice asking if you were okay.

Back outside, the bounty hunter was fuming with anger, not caring about how oddly violent he became with the quarry. He was never one to beat an unconscious being but something took over him when he saw the tears rolling down your cheeks. As he pushed his way through the forest, he thought back to the way you looked up at him with those innocent eyes. And he hated himself for the way his body reacted to your fragile body.

“Ni’duraa.” He whispered to himself when he saw the Crest come into view, continuing to pull the T'doshok until he walked up the ramp and onto the ship. It was awfully quiet but he decided to freeze the reptile before he walked around to look for you. Minutes later, he was ascending the ladder to the cockpit, unlocking it and reaching for the crib on his pilot chair. When he opened it and saw the kid cooing in his sleep, he shut it once more and left to look for you. It was strange how he couldn’t hear a single sound. You were normally talkative after a mission, and as he placed his weapons back on the wall, he noticed your clothes lying haphazardly on the ground. Mando sighed heavily as he picked them up, flushing violently when he saw the last two items leading into the refresher. Strange, you were never one to throw things around.

Not wanting to bother you anymore, he placed the clothes on your cot and ascended to the cockpit once more, wanting to leave Felucia as quickly as possible because he knew how the locals became when uninvited guests stayed for too long. As they left the sector, the Mandalorian couldn’t help but question why you were still in the refresher. You’d arrived long before him and it took him a while to navigate through the jungle because of how heavy the bounty was. 

Putting the ship on auto-pilot, he made his way to the refresher but not before noticing a strange scent fill his nostrils. Looking down at his hands, he noticed a bright purple powder covering his gloves and as soon as he brought his hands up to the edge of the visor, he was hit with many different sensations, all of which he could distinctively place back to you. Your honey-scented soap, the orange tea he saw you constantly drinking, the smell of your sweat on a particularly hot day when you tried to fix the ship...

“Fuck…” He swore before wiping his gloves against his cloak and approached the refresher. 

Knocking on the door, he waited a few moments for a response and breathed impatiently when  you didn’t bother to say anything.

“Open up, Cyar'ika.” He wasn’t sure why he was suddenly using such endearing words to call for you and when he was met with more silence, he groaned in annoyance before warning you. “If you don’t open the door now, I will break it.” Normally, you would have clapped back with a snarky comment that would get his blood boiling but he knew something was wrong when you remained quiet. Throwing propriety out the window, he kicked the door open and walked in, eyes searching the small room until they fell on your unconscious form under the water. 

“Maker,” kneeling to the ground, his heart clenched when he saw a viscous, black liquid oozing out of the gash on your back. How did he not notice this when you left? Quickly reaching for the left knob, he swore when he noticed the hot water wasn’t even on and almost broke the other one as he tried to switch it off. Why would you take such a cold shower when you weren’t even on a desert planet? Wiping your hair away from your face, the Mandalorian tried to wake you and began to feel anxiety seep into his clothes along with the water cascading down your body when he realized this was much worse than he thought. He took off his gloves and pushed you onto your back, trying his hardest to avert his gaze from your naked skin as he bent down and carried you out of the refresher. 

Opening his quarters, he laid you on his covers before grabbing the anesthetic above him and turning you on your stomach to care for the wounds. As he sprayed your back, he noticed the way you groaned in your sleep and forced himself to attend to the task at hand. He hoped to the gods there wasn’t any poison in the wound before he grabbed the bacta spray and slowly made his way down the skin of your back. He sighed in relief when he noticed your skin slowly shifting and sealing itself, trying to calm his increasing heart rate when he remembered just how fragile and naked you were beneath him. Some sick part of him was attracted to you even in such a state and he wished more than anything for you to be awake and willing to-

This is not how he pictured seeing you for the first time.

When you started shifting beneath him, he kneeled away from you and covered your legs, continuing to care for the wound on your lower back until it started to close as well. By the time he put all the medication back in its place, you were turning around and moaning in discomfort and Mando realized it was because you were probably still freezing from the cold water. Taking off his cloak, he barely draped it on your sleeping form when you pushed it off and turned on your back. He felt the fabric of his pants tighten around his crotch and looked away from you.

“Please...too- too much. I can’t-” He couldn’t understand what you were trying to say and moved to place the cloak on you again, head instantly turning to your face when you smacked the offensive object away from him and began to trail your fingers down your skin. He hadn’t meant to and before he could stop himself, he was watching as your fingers made their way down to your hips before dipping into the space between your thighs.

Maker be damned, how were you so glistening and flushed?

“M-Mando?” His eyes snapped to your face and watched as you spread your legs until he positioned between them. “Mando I need...you. I need you please, this is- it hurts. I can’t...it hurts so much. Please h-help me.” Your voice was filled with dangerous requests, and he felt his cock twitch in his pants when he saw the way you reached for his thighs and dragged your nails down to his knees. 

“Cyare, you don’t know what you’re asking.” He forced himself to keep his gaze on your face and nowhere else. But with every passing moment, the need to look at where he’d dreamt of feasting on for so many nights outgrew his respect for you. 

“Mando...I want you, n-need you...please, I promise I’ll be good. So so good for you, just- oh maker I-”

The small part of his brain that wasn’t ruled by his pulsing cock finally figured out what was happening and he growled as he pushed off of you and out to your cot. Grabbing your shirt, he turned it around and saw the same purple powder that was on his gloves coloring the whole front of your cloak. He recalled back to what happened when he left you and remembered where the T'doshok pushed you before he attacked him. 

Of course. The pollen from the spore plants.

Which meant that-

“Oh fuck.” The Mandalorian felt his insides churn when he realized what was taking place not ten feet away from him, and he felt his heart skip a beat when he knew what could potentially happen to you if your...needs weren't properly met. With reluctance, he made his way back to his sleeping cot and felt his chest tighten when he saw what you were doing.

You were on your side, fingers rubbing furiously at your soaking core and whimpering at the consistent and harsh touches passing through your nerves. But it wasn’t the mess you were making that caught his attention. No, it was the fact that you had his cowl twisted between your thighs and around your back. He watched in awe as you pushed your face into the rough material, taking in deep breaths to try and fill your nostrils with his scent. Taking one step closer to you, his eyes bore into your heated skin and he choked on air when he saw you lick at the hood of the cloak before taking your fingers out of your cunt and replacing them with his cowl. He couldn’t believe his eyes and the thought of wearing it around with your scent sticking to it broke him. 

Mando looked around the ship for a few moments in an attempt to think of what he should do. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, he approached your slowly and gasped when he met your eyes and saw the way you were looking at him.

“M-mando! Please...fuck me. I- I need you to...don’t c-care how. I promise I’ll do anything, wh-whatever you want...ple-please.” Chills ran down your spine when you forced yourself to throw the cowl away. Turning around, you laid on your stomach and took a deep breath before raising your lower half off of the covers. As you rested your head on your arm and bit into your wrist, you looked back to the beskar-clad man, silently pleading with him while swaying your ass in the air. 

“Gota'la…” Before the Mandalorian could talk himself out of it, he was kicking his heavy shoes away and making his way closer to you. A part of him screamed that of the two of you, he was the one less affected by the pollen and was technically responsible for whatever transpired next. And he was close to asking you if you were sure you wanted to take this further if it weren’t for the way you reached beneath you and faintly trailed your fingers through your soaking slit. 

“Ad'ika, gar cuyir mesh'la.” He was speaking to himself more than to you and smiled to himself when he noticed your cunt clenching around nothing as soon as his words filled the silence. “Sweet girl, you like it when I speak to you in Mando’a?” You shivered at his tone and found it difficult to respond to him, especially when you could tell he was definitely not looking at you but at the mess you were making on his bed. A loud cry rang through the small room when you felt his hand come down on your backside before squeezing the flushed skin. 

“I asked you a question Cyar'ika.” His deep and modulated voice only made it worse and you found yourself nodding at him before whispering out a low ‘yes.’

“K'olar,” you squealed when you felt Mando twirl your around onto your back before pulling your naked body flush to his still-clothed one. You were about to beg him to just fuck you already when he shoved two of his fingers into your mouth to shush you. You moaned shamelessly around his fingers, whining even louder when you realized you were sucking on his calloused skin and not on the gloves he almost never took off unless he was alone. 

“You’re going to come just like this sweet girl.” Mando manhandled you until you were straddling one of his thighs, growling impatiently when you tried to push yourself away from him. His arm tightened around your waist, pushing you down on the beskar cuisse until you finally understood what he wanted from you.

“C-cold…”

“Be a good girl and drench my armor little one. Let me walk around with the memory of your cunt dripping on me.” His words hit too close to your somewhat aware mind and you chose to dwell on their meaning later. Softly inching your hands onto his shoulders, you fisted your fingers into his shirt to support your weight before dragging yourself against the rugged and cool beskar in between your thighs. As you threw your head back and sighed in pleasure, Mando couldn’t help but squeeze the heated skin of your hip, knowing very well there would soon be fingerprint marks wherever he touched you. 

“That’s it...could smell how much you want me Cyare. Can’t believe you’re in my arms...look at you, using my thighs to get off.” You barely managed to turn your attention to him, lips still enclosed around his fingers and biting down on them the more he shoved them in your mouth.

“Mando I- I need to-” Before you could finish your request, Mando was wrapping the other arm around hips and violently dragging you against his cuisse, looking down to watch as your juices dripped on his beskar armor. 

“What a sight…” He groaned and turned his gaze towards you again just in time to watch you fall apart on him. He marveled at how quickly he brought you to pleasure and figured it must have been the pollen making you extra sensitive to his ministrations. Wanting to stretch out your pleasure for as long as possible, he threw you back onto his bed and pushed your thighs open, not giving you a chance to question him as he shoved two fingers into your cunt and massaged that spongy spot deep inside you. You arched your back and grasped at his arms, barely managing to look at the visor just as he increased pressure and fucked you with his fingers. 

“M-MANdo oh g-gods-”

“Scream my name sweet girl, and only my name.” Had you actually listened to what he said, you would have sassed back at him and told him you didn’t actually know his name. But you couldn’t care less at the moment, digging your fingers into his forearms as you came around his thick fingers, repeatedly praying his “name” until you couldn’t remember anything else.

“Mesh'la...you’re so tight and warm for me...that’s it, squeeze my fingers like the good little girl you are.” Mando watched as you came around his fingers, his eyes not knowing where to look and wishing he could taste the sweat sticking on your neck as you whimpered beneath him. 

He heard it before he felt it, moaning in blind lust as he took in the sight beneath him. Your legs shook violently as you, quite literally, drenched his thighs and blankets with your cum and Mando didn’t know if he wanted to lick you dry or stuff his nose into your pulsating cunt. 

“Sweet fucking darling, look at the mess you’ve made,” you shivered when you felt his fingers leave your slit, blinking hazily and turning to look at where he was staring. When you saw what he was referring to, you quickly covered yourself and tried to move away from him, embarrassment washing over you when you saw the way he was so obviously staring at the wetness dripping down your. But Mando was much quicker than you, grabbing your thighs and pushing them wide open again before laying in between them and dragging his crotch across your sensitive clit. 

“Never hide from me,” you nodded instantly and the Mandalorian would never admit feeling his chest fill with pride at the lust-filled fear he instilled into you with only a few words. Your chest heaved as you continued to look into the visor, almost whimpering when you were met with incredibly dazed eyes and messy hair staring right back at you. It was quiet for a few moments, the only proof that Mando was very much aware of your state being the hardness twitching against your sensitive cunt. 

Mando wasn’t sure what to do with you. He wanted to simultaneously fuck you into the next system and lick every inch of you until you couldn’t take it anymore. “I can smell your cunt Ad'ika...can almost taste your neediness.”

“Ma-mando I- I want you to r-” You felt so naked beneath him, wishing he’d at least take off his clothes before this went any further. Not a single care was given to his helmet and it was out of the question to even attempt and ask him if he could take it off. You just wanted to feel his skin sliding against yours as he fucked you. Nothing else mattered. Just his scarred and sweaty muscles contracting and trailing over your own. 

“What is it sweet girl?” His voice felt like a thousand needles piercing your soul and you didn’t realize where your hands were moving until you felt him roughly grab your wrists and slam them above your head. You could tell there was a shift in the air around you and ceased to breathe when you no longer heard his moans. 

“This is the way.” Those four words hurt you more than they should have. 

“I- I would never ask you to...I swear I just wanted- I wanted to touch you. Not take it off...please I-” Mando felt his heart shatter into a million pieces because somehow, even in your most inebriated state, you respected him. You put him before yourself. And he ceased to breathe when he sat up and watched as you grabbed at his arms and refused to let go.

“N-no don’t go...I need you- d-don’t leave me pl-” Your breathing was erratic and the Mandalorian feared you’d spiral into shock. Without thinking much of his next moves, he grabbed the nearest item of clothing and ripped a small piece of it, returning to rest between your knees and not giving you a choice as he wrapped the band around your eyes and tied it in the back. You trailed your fingers over the band and pulled away instantly when you felt his the hair on his wrist. 

“I’m sorry…” Mando thought of your actions so far and knew in his heart that if there was ever another who’d look upon him, it would be you. Softly taking your hands in his, he pulled them towards his helmet and rested them at the side.

“T-take it off.”

“I can’t...Mando, you don’t have to- I swear I was only-” As hard as it was to say those words, you wanted him to know that he owed you nothing. And you hated how selfish you were being in that moment because the man was trying to tell you something and you were only worrying about yourself and how much your cunt ached for him. You were so close to pushing him on his back and taking your pleasure from him but something told you it would be worth the wait. 

“Mesh'la, I want you to.” You always marveled at how much the Mandalorian could convey in only a few words and shouldn’t have been surprised when you felt just how much he was willing to put his trust in you. Not wanting to scare him, you slowly pulled on the visor until it was completely off, remaining motionless as he took it from your hands and placed it on the floor. You weren’t sure what you were supposed to do with your hands so you kept them to the side, fisting your fingers into the blankets to prevent you from reaching out and touching his face. 

Mando could tell you wanted to touch him. You even told him yourself. So he made the decision for you and leaned down, passing his lips over your forehead and smiling down at you when he heard you suck in a breath. You gasped when you felt his beard tickle your cheeks. He had a beard. Of course he had a beard. But as he continued to leave kisses over your face, you realized it wasn’t really a full-grown beard. It didn’t matter in the end because he was driving you insane with every small pass of his plump lips near where you wanted him.

As he finally molded his lips with yours, you felt him pull your hands up to his face and lay them on his cheeks, the groan escaping his throat letting you know he enjoyed you touching him as much as you, perhaps even more. The kiss grew frantic the more you explored his naked skin, and you couldn’t hold back the long moan that erupted into his mouth as soon as you felt him suck on your tongue. When you pulled on his soft hair, Mando couldn’t help but growl into the heated kiss, not caring for how rough he was being as he grabbed and squeezed your thighs. 

But the kiss was over as soon as it began and you whined after him when you felt him pull away from you. You felt your fingers ascend to your face but remembered why the Mandalorian blindfolded you in the first place. Not wanting to lose his trust, you pushed your arms beneath your back to prevent any temptations from taking place. Unbeknownst to you, Mando was watching every little muscle twitch on your nude form and he almost devoured you right then and there when he saw you quickly moving your fingers from your face. 

He was amazed by how caring you were even when you didn’t hold any proper level of the right consciousness. Anyone else would have removed the cloth and blamed the pollen. But not you. 

You were special. 

Refusing to waste any more time, Mando made quick work of the beskar armor, not caring about the mess he was making just outside his room. He kept his eyes on you the entire time, smiling when he noticed you shivering beneath his gaze. He was on you as soon as he deposited his long-sleeve and pants, devouring your mouth and digging his fingers into your waist as he rutted against you. 

“Ner-” 

The possessiveness was almost palpable and he surprised even himself at the single syllable. Since when was he like this?

“Mando,” you whispered his name as you wrapped your arms around his back and pulled him flush against you, sighing in relief when you felt the hair of his chest tickle your nipples. Mando noticed your reaction and instantly descended on your heaving chest, biting and licking and pinching at the hardened buds until you begged him to slow down.

“Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. You’re so fucking delicious.” The way he effortlessly switched between his mother tongue and Basic shouldn’t have turned you on this much and yet you were. 

“Fuck me.” Your words were dripping with desperation and the Mandalorian wasn’t able to hold any longer. He wanted to take his time with you, commit every little curve to memory. Memorize what made your breath hitch and what made you sigh. 

But the request ended all of his curiosity and before you knew it, you felt him roughly pull down on his boxer briefs. You flushed when you heard the sound of his hand jerking his cock, mouth falling wide open when it jutted at your inner thighs and you felt how fucking hard and thick it was. 

“What will it be sweet girl? You want me to make love to you,” he paused for a moment and took advantage of your distracted expression, rubbing the head of his cock against your wet slit and biting his lips when he felt you arch against him at the simple yet filthy movement. “Or fuck you like I own you…like you’re mine.”

Hearing him say ‘fuck’ in such a vulgar tone did it for you and you didn’t know what to do with yourself except widen your legs more for him and grab the bed sheets beneath you.

“F-fuck me like you own me Mando...ruin me. Take what you want and- oh maker you’re so- so...fu- please, u-use me however you want. Just- I need your cock. Need to cum on your cock...can’t wait anym-”

Mando was sure he broke you with his words, watching in awe as you begged and begged until you couldn’t breathe anymore. There was no warning, no asking if you were ready for him. There was just your wet cunt teasing him until he couldn’t bear the thought of not being deep inside your pussy.

Resting his head against yours, he took his painfully hard cock in his hand and shoved it past your wet lips, letting out a deep growl as he felt you scratch his back.

“Mando, Mando, M-mando…”

You didn’t find the strength to think of a proper sentence to express what you were feeling so you opted to pray his name over and over again. He was shaking above you and you knew instantly he was trying his hardest not to break you.

“Take what you want- I...I won’t break.” 

Just hearing you say those words to him almost made him cum right then and there. You were returning the trust he gave you and he knew there was no way of putting this moment behind him even if he tried. 

Pulling out until only the head of his cock was splitting you open, Mando bucked his hips violently back into you, whispering the filthiest promises into your ears as he set a rough pace that had you seeing worlds you didn’t even know existed. 

“So, fucking, tight...how are you so wet and tight for me Cyare?” It took you a while to realize you were hearing his voice without the modulator of his mask. How had you not noticed how beautifully sinful it was when he first took it off? You wanted to tell him how much you loved hearing his thick and smooth voice. You wanted to kiss down his neck and bite onto his shoulders. You wanted to push him down and force his cock inside your throat. 

So much. You wanted so much. 

But you couldn’t find your voice in that moment. Not when he was railing into you with such an unforgiving force. 

“Made for me...made to take my cock. Such a sweet fucking girl- ah.” You should have known Mando would not be the quiet type in bed. He was a man of few words during his day-to-day life so of course he would take this chance and spill out his innermost thoughts. But it surprised you nonetheless considering how downright dirty his moans and whispers were. And you were sure he was as filthy, if not more, when he continued to speak in Mando’a. 

With every passing moment, you felt a piece of your heart split from your chest and slowly make its way into his hands. He was branding you, his cock reaching so deep inside you that you were sure you could feel him right below your navel if you only moved your hands against your skin. But you couldn’t afford to let go of him, not when he was using you just as you requested. 

“Mando you...maker, you’re filling me so- so good. I- please, can I cum? I want t- to cum. Been so good for you. Need to-” The chuckle that left his lips was sweet music to your ears until you realized he might be laughing at how pathetic you were. 

“Fucking gods Ad'ika...fill you up? Is that what you want sweet girl? You want me to- fuck, fuck...want me to fill you up with my cum? You’re killing me baby.” His voice was hoarse and he realized his mistake as soon as the words left his lips. The last thing he wanted was to scare you away from him. It was his deeped, darkest secret. He swore he would go to his grave with it. Too often he thought of breeding you, fucking you and fill you up until his cum leaked out of you and you couldn’t move. Too many nights he went to sleep thinking of what it would feel like to wake up with your sweet cunt still wrapped around his cock. What he’d give to ensure not a single drop went to waste. 

Too many days were spent dreaming of giving that little womp rat a sibling to run around with. 

Your silence didn’t go unnoticed by him and he was about to slow down when he felt your hands grab his ass and push you closer to him.

“Want your cum Mando...want you to cum inside me, fill me up until I can’t breathe...oh fuck, until I can’t feel anything but your cum hot and deep inside me. Fuck a baby inside me Mando I- oh oh gods I-” Mando couldn’t hold back anymore, violently pushing his cock inside you and swallowing your moans every time they echoed just a little louder than he preferred. He groaned in ecstasy when he looked down and saw pure bliss etched on your soft features. You clenched around him, thighs vibrating around his hips as he somehow drove into you harder and carried you past the point of pleasure. You didn’t know you were coming around him until you heard him whisper ‘good girl’ in your ears. And it sent a jolt down his spine when he continued to rut against you and fill the ship with the heavy sounds of skin slapping on skin. It was almost painful, the way he didn’t let up and continued to rail into you without a single care. 

“Mine...mine, fucking mine. That’s it sweet girl, feel me. Feel me marking your fucking soul.” He was a mumbling mess at this point and he wasn’t sure if it was because you were panting like an animal in heat or because of the way you desperately licked and kissed and nipped at his neck and lips. 

“Yes, I’m yours Mando. Yours...always have been.”

The heaviness of your words struck his heart instantly, and he shoved his cock so deep inside you he swore he could feel your heartbeat. Mando rested his head in the crook of your neck, biting harder than intended on your shoulder as hot spurts of cum coated your inner walls. You feel a sudden warmth wash over you and dug your nails into his ass as he thrust once, twice, three times before stilling completely. 

The two of you continued to breathe heavily against each other and when Mando moved his knees to get comfortable between your thighs, you unintentionally squeezed his cock and felt him twitch inside you.

“Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika.” It was such a silent comment and you knew this was much different than everything he’d said thus far. Something about his tone told you he was spilling his heart out and you wished more than anything to ask him what he was saying but knew you shouldn’t...wouldn’t. Not unless you wanted him to continue and speak to you.

You were brought back from your thoughts when the Mandalorian kissed your lips, and you felt yourself drowning in his scent when he rubbed your hair and nudged your jaw with his nose.

“Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar.” Slowly, Mando wrapped his arms around you and rolled you over until you were practically sleeping on top of him. The two of you hissed when you felt his cock leave your heat and Mando wished more than anything to spread your thighs and watch as his cum leaked down your thighs. No worries, he’d do that later.

Later…

Oh what he would give for there to be a ‘later’ with you. 

The thought of not being able to have you again snapped him back to reality and he realized there was a very high chance this would never happen again because as far as he knew, this was only a consequence of the pollen.

Not wanting to bother you with his insecurities, Mando pushed your head down onto his chest and rubbed your shoulders, telling you to get some rest and to not worry about anything else. 

Hours later, Mando was waking up to a soft noise emitting from beneath him. As he rubbed his eyes and took in his surroundings, he looked down and noticed you were still very much naked and cold next to him. Pulling the covers over you, he allowed his eyes to feed on your curves before meeting your face. Dread filled his heart as soon as he saw the wet patch on the band around your eyes. 

You must have woken up and realized what happened. A thousand different scenarios flew through his mind and Mando knew that almost each one of them was caused by your regret of sleeping with him. 

“Ad'ika, are you alright?” When you didn’t respond and sniffed loudly, Mando knew he had to brace for the worst. 

“Please...are you hurt anywhere?” Hearing his pleas was what did it for you and you threw yourself into his chest. 

“Mando I- I took advantage of you. I’m so sorry, I- I didn’t know what was happening...I promise I- please don’t tell me to leave. I can’t leave you or the Child. I- I promise I’ll pretend this never happened. Just- don’t leave me. I can’t bear the thought of living without you...without him.”

Of all the things the Mandalorian thought he would hear from you, those were certainly the last to make the list. He wasn’t sure how he’d gotten so lucky with you? Not only did you refuse to take the blindfold off when you woke up but you genuinely thought you’d forced him into sleeping with you.

“Cyare, it hurts to see you cry. Come here.” Mando sat up against the cold metal wall, pulling you into his lap and wrapping the covers around you so you weren’t exposed to the cold air of the ship. 

“You didn’t take advantage of me sweet girl. If anything, I- I should be the one apologizing. I was not hit with the effects of the pollen as much as you have been and...and I should have refused your pleas. But you looked so beautiful, Cyar'ika. You prayed for me to have you and I- I was selfish. I was selfish and I couldn’t stop myself from sinking into you. Branding you. Being with you.” To say you were surprised by his words would have been the understatement of the century. 

The Mandalorian wanted you. He wanted to have you. He wanted to be with you. 

“I-I’ve wanted you for so long...spent so many nights dreaming of being with you.” You confessed to him before you could think of the meaning behind your words and you were met with a deep sigh and a kiss on the lips almost immediately. 

“How long Mesh'la?” 

“S-since Tatooine.” 

Mando’s heart skipped a beat at the short yet direct response. He’s only ever been to Tatooine once with you, months and months ago when he needed Peli to fix something on the Crest for him. You hadn’t even been with their group for three weeks then. So busy thinking of all the ways he could have had you since then, Mando didn’t notice how the silence affected you until your fingers twitched against his chest. 

“Mando?”

“That was eons ago.” It was more of a comment than a question and you weren’t sure if he was angry or surprised. 

“Is...is that bad?”

“Bad? No Ad'ika, not bad.” When he didn’t offer more of an explanation, you rested your head on his chest and continued to draw circles on his naked abdomen. 

You weren’t sure how long you sat there in each others arms but the faint sounds of cooing and laughter snapped you out of your haze and you realized you should probably get up and make something for the kid to eat. Before you could move away from him however, Mando was bringing you closer to him and kissing you again. You knew you could never tire from feeling his lips mold and pass over yours and you welcomed his tongue with as much vigor as you could muster up.

As he pulled away, you smiled at him and wished more than anything to be able to see him smile back at you. 

“Din.”

“Hmm?”

“My name...it’s Din. Din Djarin.” 

Mando could see the exact moment you registered what he just said and he smirked to himself at how pretty you looked when something shocking took place. 

“Din.” You repeated his name silently, afraid this would all be a dream and that he didn’t actually just tell you something that was so important to him.

“You didn’t have to tell me…” You traced his jaw with your fingers and marveled at how oddly soft his beard was. 

“I didn’t, but I wanted to.” Din was silent for a few seconds before he flipped you beneath him and took hold of your wrists before slamming them harshly above your head. “I wanted you to know it, Mesh'la, so you could scream it the next time I fucked this sweet and tight cunt.” 

For a man of few words, he sure knew what to say to get you worked up again.

Translations: 

Ni Kelir kyr'amur gar meh gar vaabir not ba'slanar kaysh - I will kill you if you do not leave her.

Ni vaabir not baatir te waadas. - I do not care about the credits.

Gedet'ye. - Please.

Ad'ika - Little one

Ni’duraa! - You disgust me.

Cyar'ika - Darling/Sweetheart

Cyare - Beloved

Gota'la - Maker.

Gar cuyir mesh'la. - You are beautiful. 

K'olar - Come here.

Mesh'la - Beautiful

Ner - Mine.

Ni'm liser't...taylir norac. - I can’t...hold back.

Ni chaabar gar, cyar'ika. - I fear you, darling.

Gar cuyir too jaon'yc at ni. Ni liser't nibral gar. - You are too important to me. I can’t lose you.

[slasherscream]

[arrives problematically] hey could i get an order of soft yandere kevin to go please

A/N: why did this draft post before i put anything here 😳 😳 😳

He doesn’t tell you he loves you. He can’t be sure he loves you. Love is immaterial. It’s nothing you can see, or feel, or smell, or hear. The only way to see love, to measure it, is through people.

He’s never cared about anyone's opinion before, and he won’t start now, so late into the game. It would be a waste of his time to try to lower himself to the level of other people’s reasoning capabilities.

He knows that he wants you around. Wants to reach out and touch you when the impulse comes over him. Wants to look at you at when he feels like it, exactly when he feels like it. Wanting is a defining characteristic of what he feels for you. Kevin has never wanted anything as consistently as he wants you. At the start, it was a low-level awareness of boredom when you were absent. The feeling comparable to being away from a shiny, new toy. Then the feeling morphed and grew into what he loathes to consider a need for your presence.  

Kevin has never needed anything. Even the idea of it is... unsettling.

He likes being honest with you, generally, so he doesn’t tell you he loves you. Instead, he tells you nonnegotiable truths. If you ask him direct questions like “Do you love me?” you will get a curt, direct answer of “I don’t have to. You’re mine.”

It might hurt your feelings, the emphatic denial of that much sought after I love you. Except that Kevin never claims anything. He walks through the world with a deep, nearly resentful, apathy towards everything and everyone. Except for you. In a world full of things that you know to be beautiful and interesting and complex, Kevin has only ever been moved to possessiveness by you.

He is hot and cold most days. At times your relationship feels like a long drawn out test. Pop quiz tomorrow, he practically tells you, when he is particularly clingy one day and completely withdrawn the next.

You’d be surprised to know he is not always testing you when he does this. Sometimes, most times, he is testing himself. Can I stay away? How long can I stay away? What do I miss about them when they’re gone? How many times a day will I think of them when they’re not here? The answers always disappoint and surprise him. Like the pulse of his own heart you sit beneath his skin carelessly.

He catches himself being whole with you. Hidden depths completely on display, from the benign to the disquieting. You cut him open in a way that makes him vulnerable. What he never saw coming was the acceptance that came after the reveal of his true nature.

So he pushed the envelope. Again, and again, and again, trying to see what would make you give up and turn away out of fear. You met it all unfaltering. Until the day you said I love you, in answer to one of his many tests of your patience.

It was the first time he’d ever been truly told those words. His Father tells him he loves him, but what his Father loves is his character acting of Average All American Boy, a performance that makes him sick. When his Father tells him those words, it makes his stomach churn. His Mother sees him, has seen him from the very start, but the hatred she feels for him burns through him with certainty. When she bothers with the performance of loving Mother and Son, it’s a truly pathetic show.

And now here you are and you love him. It baffles him at first. But he doesn’t dwell. He doesn’t want to. Instead, he soaks it in, the way you lavish him with attention, the way you chase after him, the way you love him. The way he wants you feels like hunger, like the kind of starvation that bloats your stomach.

If he was demanding before it was nothing compared to the way he is with you once you told him the depth of your feelings. He might not be able to trust love, but he trusts devotion. He trusts the way you jump when he calls, and smile when he says your name. You respond to the attention he gives you like a puppy, so trusting despite all that he’s shown you.

And it stirs something in him, the way you react to him. So he gives you more. Another touch. Another kiss. Pulling you close as you walk down the street together. Sitting you in his lap while he reads his worn copy of Robin Hood. Listening to music you like while laying on the floor of his bedroom, because he could give a damn as long as he can hear your voice over the mess of sound you like to dance and sing to.

Indulging you when you tell him you want to properly meet his family, even though it makes him sick to share you normally, let alone with people he despises. But he puts on the show of the loving boyfriend for you and brings you to a family dinner. He holds your hand as his Father congratulates him on getting such a looker. He ignores the looks of concern his Mother keeps trying to give you. He grits his teeth as Celia climbs onto your lap and steals away your attention. He watches the way you smile and plays his part because you feel everything so deeply, a sharp contrast to the way he interacts with the world, and when you’re happy you light up from the inside.

You never look happier than when he does the tiny, pointless things that do nothing but signal to other people that you’re together, that you’re his. So he holds your hand, and kisses you, and goes places with you, and gives you his clothes, all these things, just to watch you light up. Just to watch you be happy that you belong to him.

Kevin doesn’t love you, that’s what he tells himself.

[justathoughtfulangel]

Her Hypocrisy ~ Colors, Chapter 3 (Kai Parker Fanfiction)

Hello! Welcome to Chapter 3 of Colors, my Kai Parker Soulmate AU Fanfiction. This is NOT meant to be read as a standalone. If you haven't yet, please read the Details post and previous chapters linked on this masterlist.

*not my gif

Word Count: 1,956

Pairings: siphon!Kai x witch!Reader (soulmates)

I don’t like writing with Y/N in the place of character names, but this IS a reader insert fanfiction. I use Rosalie Wilson as a placeholder. Use Rose/Rosalie as a substitution for Y/N.

Warnings: Minor swearing and brief mention of suicidal thoughts

Read a short recap + the new chapter after the break :)

Chapter 2 Recap:

“Alright, there’s your drink. I’m heading out, and unless you’d like to be locked in, I’d advise leaving as well.” The sudden shift in mood was gloomy. Nearly despairing.

Kai didn’t have it in him to protest. Taking his glass with him, he followed behind. His foot snagged against a chair, making him stumble. Rosalie approached the parked taxi and tapped on the window. “Hello?” The driver showed no sign of waking, and Kai couldn’t stop her.

Noticing the doors were unlocked, Rose opened the driver’s side, not expecting his body to fall out senselessly. The earbud previously tucked into his ear fell out, the wire plugged into nothing. With trembling hands, she leaned down to check his pulse and stifled a shriek when she felt nothing but cold, dead skin…

~~~

Rosalie straightened up quickly as if the body had electrocuted her. Kai couldn’t meet her eyes, so he stared at the man he’d killed thoughtlessly. She stared at him egregiously, feeling repulsed and angered. Any joy from their small banter had dissipated. “Leave. Right now. I’m sure you don’t want to be here when campus police show up.”

The glinting hatred in her eyes infuriated Kai. Hadn’t she spent years befriending murderous vampires? How could she judge him so easily? How could she fail to give him a chance? “I’m not going to ask you again, Parker. Leave.”

He didn’t bother responding. Without delay, Kai rushed off, not allowing himself a glance back. When she could no longer see his figure, she stuffed the earphones in her pocket before calling 911. She could try to hate him with everything she had, but Rosalie was also willing to commit a federal crime for Kai. She tampered with a murder scene to protect him, and some part of her knew she always would.

~

Later that night, Kai lounged in the dark Lockwood mansion. His fist closed around the bottleneck of an expensive gin, and he drank down a fifth like it was water. Who was he kidding? He was fucked up. So unbelievably fucked up. He murdered people as easily as he’d give them a handshake. Rosalie was right to despise him.

But… what was it about her hatred that was so unbearable? Hadn’t he seen that same look in his father’s eyes for years? Isn’t that the expression that marred his dreams every night? Why did it bother him so much when it was Rosalie looking at him that way? She was just another girl.

He didn’t have time to dwell on it much longer. The young ex-werewolf had made his way inside and had seen Kai lounging in the dark. Relishing one last swig, he sauntered over. “I think gin gets a bad rap.” The glass bottle smashed against the wall, forming angry teeth and leaving dangerous shards scattered across the ground.

Before Tyler could even drop his bag, Kai’s hand clutched the back of his neck, holding the jagged weapon close to his skin. “I’d rather not kill you, but I will.” Tyler stared at him in defiance, only asking, “What the hell do you want?”

“This is going to sound crazy, but I want to save Liv’s life.” As the distrustful surprise registered in Tyler’s eyes, Kai lowered the broken bottle and let it fall to the ground. Rosalie might loathe him, but Kai wasn’t about to kill her friend if he could help it. There were ways around that, and Tyler Lockwood was the best option.

“Feel like making a deal with the devil?”

~~~

Rosalie had strictly avoided going back to Mystic Falls, and she would do anything to stay away from Kai. With Thanksgiving around the corner, however, she didn’t have anywhere to go. Staying on campus would be boring. She wasn’t about to join Friendsgiving – not with three Parkers on the guest list. Damon even invited her to Portland on their mission to find more information on the Prison World, but she was still miffed with him.

Rosalie begrudgingly drove to Mystic Falls, finding the strength to return to the house that was no longer home. Familiar streets lined her vision, making her smile softly. She hadn’t seen her hometown in weeks, and seeing it now made her nostalgic. She saw the clock tower under which she had her first kiss, the Grill which served as her friends’ favorite hangout spot. These parts of town she could tolerate.

The road winding up to her house was not so tolerable. Though it had been years, there were memories she couldn’t shake, memories made years ago that had latched onto her for dear life; images that wouldn’t be erased for decades. Rosalie thought it would get easier over time, but it hadn’t…

All magic comes with a price. For someone as gifted as Rosalie, paying that price ruined her. It had succeeded in destroying her family in only one night. She lost her handle on her emotions, lost her control. Her magic pulsed through her veins like scorching fire, taking over her body. Rosalie stood helplessly, crippled and weak. She watched her family's home burn to the ground and could do nothing to stop it.

To this day, she heard their screams. Her little brother’s terrified face gloomed from the bedroom window. Her mother’s voice called out to her; desperate pleading chanted after her over and over. Rosalie was powerless. She couldn’t save them, couldn’t help them escape. Her feet stay rooted to the ground, and her magic lashed out as an unrelenting whip, burning and killing the people she loved most. Only when their lives were claimed did the fire exhume.

She had fallen to the ground, there. She was not screaming or crying. She had no right - not when she was the murderer. That night, Rosalie locked up the majority of her magic for good. Her talisman of choice was a singed stuffed hummingbird toy. It had somehow survived the blaze, and Rose buried it at the base of the willow tree where her father once hung a tire swing for her. She swore she would never access her true powers again, not if having it meant she’d cause this level of harm.

Rosalie was standing in front of that willow tree now, her eyes glued to the mound of dirt which cloaked the source of her suffering. Looking over her shoulder, she stared at the house. It was pristine. Money was not an object for her family, and Rose had it recreated. She would walk through halls identical to the ones she turned to ash and torture herself. She’d stare at the upholstery in what was once her parents’ room and crawl under the sheets. They were always cold. No one slept there because of her.

She was capable of much more than others realized. Hell, she could make a Bennett witch look like a circus act. She would never show someone that, though. Only a handful of people knew the truth about her magic. Rosalie didn’t speak about it, but every time she returned home, she tormented herself. It seemed to be the only way to absolve her sins. She didn’t have the power to bring back the ones she’d slaughtered.

Rosalie knelt on the ground. There was no moon in the sky. The soft bracken would stain her jeans, and the wind was sure to give her a chill. She deserved it. She deserved it all. She even deserved a soulmate like Kai. He’d murdered his family too, after all.

One harsh chuckle slipped past Rose’s lips. It rang out into the dark night, amplifying into sardonic, maniacal laughter. How hypocritical was she? They both spilled the blood of their loved ones. With what right was she unable to accept him? Where did she get off so high and mighty?

She fell backward, still laughing uncontrollably. Her back crashed against the cold ground, and soon enough, her shivers melded with her shaking and turned into body-wracking sobs. She hated this. She hated herself for what she had done. Rosalie could never hate him, but she could never love Kai for doing the same. What made it all so much worse was his indifference to murder. He was an unfeeling sociopath, sure. But he reveled in the memory of what haunted her. If he was repentant, there may have been hope.

But he wasn’t repentant. There was no hope.

~~~

One week later, everything was ready. Kai was going to merge with Jo and become the leader of the Gemini Coven. He was going to wrench his birthright and claim it for himself. Josette stumbled as he dragged her to the clearing. Kai smirked up at the sky, circling around her. “Look at those pretty planets. All twinkly and bright. Oh, Josette, you would not believe how sick I am of eclipses.”

Jo had no sympathy for him, and her tone made that perfectly clear. “Let’s just get this over with.” Kai was unsurprised, and he, too, scoffed at her. “If you think I didn’t spend the last eighteen years in solitary thinking about how you screwed me over last time, you’re wrong. So, if this is just another set up, I’ll rip out something more important than a spleen. Like a tongue, or a heart. So, any closing remarks?”

“You’re a parasite.” Kai nodded and smiled, listening patiently. After all, these were the last words his sweet twin sister would ever say to him. “You killed the people I loved. You shoved a hunting knife in my gut. You destroyed my life. Now, I’m going to destroy yours.”

“I guess we’ll see, won’t we?” Without another word, Kai pressed his bleeding palm to Jo’s open wound. She started the chant without needing more encouragement, and Kai’s smirk widened.

“Sanguinem dissimilis. Sanguinem generis fehyantis.”

Kai joined her, knowing the chant by heart. The wind picked up, and the leaves rustled around them. He could almost feel the power of the merge, so close… finally in reach.

And then it stopped. Josette fell backward, and everything came to standstill. His little brother, Luke, was moving towards them. “What the hell did you just do?”

“Oh, I just gave my big sister a little magic knock on the head. But don’t worry, she’ll be fine, because you’re going to merge with me.” He couldn’t help the snicker that slipped past him.

“You want to merge with me?” Kai tapped his cute little brother’s face, not even minding when he shoved his hands off. It was a great joke, and this was turning out to be an enjoyable evening.

“I hate to break it to you, little brother, but we’re not twins. That’s not how this is supposed to work.” The joke was over now. He’d been waiting for this for too long to tolerate any more interruptions.

“That’s true. But we share the same parents, the same bloodline, and thanks to your timeout in the magic penalty box, we’re the same age. So, it’s definitely a Hail Mary, and maybe it won’t work, but I’d do anything to save my sister’s life.”

Luke summoned the knife from Kai’s hand, using it to slice his own. “We’re gonna give it the old college try.” He beckoned Kai to come to him, yet Kai had slowly begun walking backward. “Thanks… but I’m gonna pass.”

All it took was one spell for Lucas to pull Kai towards him, gripping him by his face and squeezing his jaw. “What’s wrong? Afraid to play chicken with someone who might actually beat you?”

Gritting his teeth, Kai wrenched Luke’s hand off of his face, clutching it and moving closer. What did it matter if he won or died? If he won, he’d never be at someone’s mercy again. Never be weaker than others or depend on siphoning someone else’s magic. If he died, he’d get his second greatest wish. He’d no longer live in a world where no one wanted him.

“Fine. It’s your funeral.”

~

A few miles away, Rosalie made herself a comforting mug of hot cocoa. Seven tabs were open on her laptop, and she needed the sugar boost to get through the mountain of post-Thanksgiving assignments. With her chocolate by her side, she sat down to complete them. Rose had just taken one scalding sip and was cursing her impatience when the mug fell from her hands. It splashed onto her cream carpet, streaking it with brown.

Or at least, it should’ve been brown. She couldn’t see the color anymore.

~~~ That concludes Chapter 3 of Colors. I hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I loved writing it :) Please feel free to send any thoughts/comments/constructive criticisms my way!

Chapter 4 is completed! Read it here.

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Until next time, JustAThoughtfulAngel <3

Taglist: @socio-kai-path1972, @bluelicious, @genevivetaylor, @prettybitchfatwitch