#you were still rotten on the inside but at least you didn't look like a brick shithouse on the outside

[genericpuff]

nobody ever talks about the decline of how hades looks like in the first episode he looks decent enough (like the average handsome rich ceo in a trashy romance novel) but now he looks like gru from despicable me

facts

these were some of the panels i studied most while trying to figure out to draw him myself, I'm STILL trying to achieve that "peak S1" look haha knowing now what Rachel's pre-LO art looked like, his design is really reminiscent of her male characters from The Doctor Pepper Show, you can tell she was drawing this off the back of that previous work. Now it's just-

。゜゜(´Ｏ`) ゜゜。

[ohisms]

✱˚｡⋆ ↪ 𝐀 𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐅 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 . ( a collection of lyric prompts based on various works by florence + the machine . adjust phrasing as necessary , will likely be updated in the future . )

it's always darkest before the dawn .

we will find new saints to be canonized .

holy water cannot help you now .

the horses are coming , so you'd better run .

i never felt so alive and so dead .

i'm damned if i do , i'm damned if i don't .

i've always been in love with you .

what has been done cannot be undone .

i don't care whether i live or die .

we will never be afraid again .

i feel nervous in a way that can't be named .

it was so far a fall , but it didn't hurt at all .

the saints can't help me now .

i want to find you and tear out all of your tenderness .

sooner or later , the things you love , you lose .

run fast for your mother , run fast for your father .

i like to think , at least , things can't get any worse .

i would give all this and heaven too .

i was in the darkness , so darkness i became .

all my stumbling phrases never amounted to anything worth this feeling .

in order to get to the heart of things , sometimes you have to cut through .

i'll be dead before the day is done .

time after time , i think "oh lord , what's the use ?"

the heart is hard to translate , it has a language of its own .

it was all so strange and so surreal .

i'm not here looking for absolution .

now and then , it seems that life is just too much .

be careful of the curse that falls on young lovers .

if you could only see the beast you've made of me .

pretty little face stopped me in my tracks .

i'm aching to attack .

you want a revelation , some kind of resolution .

it's so easy to say it to a crowd , but it's so hard to say it to you aloud .

i don't want your heart , it leaves me cold .

i am no mother , i am no bride , i am king .

she's a cruel mistress , and a bargain must be made .

well , me and my ghosts had a hell of a time .

with all my education i can't seem to command my heart .

it's a conversation i just can't have tonight .

you left me in the dark . no dawn , no day .

jesus christ , it hurts .

a woman is a changeling , always shifting shape .

the very thing you're best at is the thing that hurts the most .

i'll cut your little heart out 'cause you made me cry .

i knew that somehow , i could find my way back .

a thousand armies couldn't keep me out .

i'm ready to suffer and i'm ready to hope .

you've got the love i need to see me through .

is this how it is ? is this how it's always been ?

you keep me up at night .

oh , tell me it's not over yet .

no walls can keep me protected .

i'm going out , i'm gonna drink myself to death .

time goes quicker between the two of us .

would you leave me if i told you what i'd done ?

now , there's no holding back .

oh god , you're gonna get it .

you need your rotten heart and dazzling pain like diamond rings .

in the dark , i can hear your heartbeat .

i never knew my killer would be coming from within .

i was never as good as i always thought i was , but i knew how to dress it up .

don't forget me when i let the water take me .

this world is a beast of a burden .

you know i still like you the most .

what a thing to admit .

sometimes i think it's getting better , then it gets much worse .

i'm on fire , but i'm trying not to show it .

you are the space in my bed .

would you have it any other way ?

things go wrong , no matter what i do .

you make a fool of death with your beauty .

now she sleeps with one eye open , and that's the price she'll pay .

they were there when i woke up this morning .

heaven help me , i need to make it right .

until i wrap myself inside your arms , i cannot rest .

when someone looks at me with real love , i don't like it very much .

would you leave me if i told you what i've become ?

i'm always running from something .

it's good to be alive , crying into cereal at midnight .

okay , but let's discuss this at the hospital .

i know everybody lets you down , and i'll do the same .

your heart is the only place i can call home .

i wish to remain nameless , and live without shame .

sometimes i feel like saying "lord , i just don't care" .

i would put my words into poetry for you if i knew how .

if they ever let me out , i'm really gonna let it out .

but know , in some way , i'm there with you .

i've been wandering the streets for days .

don't let them get you down , you're the best thing i've ever seen .

how could anything bad ever happen to you ?

you couldn't have it any other way .

it's the only way i can escape .

what a place to come from .

little did you know your home's really only a town you're just a guest in .

run for your children , for your sisters and brothers .

you can't choose what stays and what fades away .

you'll be sorry that you messed with us .

call me when you need me .

although we stick together , it seems we're stranging each other .

this is as good a place to fall as any .

in your place there were a thousand other faces .

here's to drinks in the dark at the end of my rope .

lay me down , let the only sound be the overflow .

there's no salvation for me now .

i'd do anything to make you stay .

what's in a name ? i still remain the same .

i've been taking chances , i've been setting myself up for the fall .

tell me what you want me to say .

you are the silence in between what i thought and what i said .

i've been a fool , and i've been blind .

i never knew daylight could be so violent .

regrets collect like old friends , here to visit for your darkest moments .

so you packed your bags just to wait out the shitstorm ?

my doe , my dear , my darling ...

you're my head , you're my heart .

everyone lets you down in this brief hole of a town .

i'm not giving up , i'm just giving in .

i've been losing sleep , i've been keeping myself awake .

sometimes i feel like throwing my hands up in the air .

the only solution was to stand and fight .

i don't know how it started , don't know how to stop it .

i'm done with my graceless heart .

i can never leave the past behind .

do they speak to you ? 'cause they speak to me too .

i thought that love was a kind of emptiness .

it's hard to dance with a devil on your back .

sometimes i wonder if i should be medicated .

every demon wants his pound of flesh .

tell me what all the sighing's about .

could you tell from the moment we met ?

i heard your voice as clear as day ... you told me i should concentrate .

all my girls have their lace and their crimes .

i like to keep some things to myself .

no one asks any questions here .

the feeling comes so fast and i can't control it .

you came over me like some holy rite .

i was screaming out a language i had no idea existed before .

i thought that love was on stage , giving yourself away to strangers .

leave all your love and your longing behind , you can't carry it with you if you want to survive .

i thought that love was in the drugs , but the more i took the more it took away .

i never wanted anything from you , except everything you had and what's left after that too .

i don't want your future , i don't need your past . one grand moment is all i ask .

[helenazbmrskai]

Dark Office Romance (m)

Title [Dark Office Romance]

Pairing [Yandere Boss! Jeongguk x Reader]

Genre [Yandere Au, Office Au, Romance, Smut]

Summary [The company you work for is shady, sexist and full of men who think they could do anything. After Jeongguk's assistant quits you attend a meeting in her stead and you realise just how rotten these men are. You decide to quit and you have a thing or two to tell to your boss but what you didn't expect is for him to turn this around on you.]

Words [5,6k]

Rating [+18]

Warnings [Sexual harassment in the workplace, sexism, bad working environment, yandere behaviour, obsession, mental disorder, sexual content: rough handling, forced kiss, consensual unprotected sex, marking/biting, first times, take away virginities, oral (female receiving), creampies]

A/N: This fic has heavy themes so read it with caution!

Masterlist //

“Did you hear what happened today at the meeting?” A person talked in a hushed voice to another. Hiding in one of the stalls you could hear every whispering word between the ladies.

“Of course! There’s not a single soul who hasn’t heard. I don’t think I would be able to live through such humiliation. I hate this company, it’s so strict and harmful to the employees that I want to quit soon.”

You take a deep breath with your forehead pushed against the cold wall. Tears are wetting your eyelashes and your nose is clogged but you stopped crying in fear of someone hearing you. At least no one sees you in tears after what happened. You managed to put up a brave face that time. You felt more angry than hurt at that time but look at you now breaking down in the women's washroom like a fool.

“Yes, I agree. I hate that men can do anything. I fear coming to work every day, but I still think it was too much. Y/N is a diligent girl, and she didn’t deserve to have that kind of treatment right in front of our CEO. That bastard didn’t even try to stop it.”

“Shh. We’re still inside the building if someone overhears you talk about the CEO like that we will be in big trouble.”

“You’re right. Let’s go back to work.” The voices fade away until you hear the door close again behind your coworkers. You exit the stall when the coast is clear. However, when you see yourself in the mirror’s reflection you want to cry again. You look miserable with your mascara streaming down your face. You breathe in and out slowly until you’re able to calm down. You don’t have more time to waste you need to get your act together at least for when you’re back alone in your apartment. You can cry all night and curse your boss and everyone involved in today’s incident with a tube of ice cream and a six-pack of cold beer. Steeling your nerves you fix your make-up and get back to your duties. You finish your report and get everything in order. You don’t even get up to get lunch like everybody else as you power through it with an energy drink in you. If you went to the cafeteria you would get more of those pitiful glances and you don’t have it in you to answer their questions about how you’re feeling.

You know they don’t mean anything bad about it but it’s undoubtedly a thing that crosses everyone’s mind. Thank goodness it wasn’t me. It’s not wrong to feel this way before this happened there were times when you felt the same way, it’s just how things in this company work. You get humiliated and the next day someone takes your place.

Today it was your turn. It was bad enough that the CEO asked for you. The person who was responsible for helping him out during the cabinet meeting with the shareholders suddenly quit and you were tasked with helping with operating the slideshow and making notes.

This was your first time attending one of those meetings and after it was over you had a strong desire to quit as well.

No wonder she left in tears last week as she gave in her resignation letter you didn’t know what was happening inside those meetings. There was only one time you caught her crying in the bathroom just like you did now. You tried to ask what was wrong but she never told you.

You’re unsure how she was able to endure it for this long. Jeongguk’s assistant receives the most salary inside the company but for a while the seat was vacant and you were new to the company so you had no idea what was going on. Why did his assistants quit so quickly? You remember talking to her she was excited to get this opportunity she shared that her family is in a tough situation and the pay is good to get themselves back on their feet. Now you have a rough idea. At first, everything seemed normal.

You took your place standing next to Jeongguk and the meeting began when the participants sat down. They were all men. You held back at first when they touched your butt as you were passing around documents. You even ignored their sexist comments but enough was enough. One of the men squeezed your butt and whistled when the meeting was about to be over. You looked over to Jeongguk he looked straight into your eyes but didn’t do anything. You said that you would report this to HR as a case of sexual assault if he tried to do it again, now you were angry about how everyone treated you like a piece of meat. The man got angry and poured hot coffee over you.

Jeongguk ended the meeting and you stormed out.

He never tried to stop anything or protect you. He just watched it all play out as if he was watching a movie. This was the most humiliating experience you have had in your entire life.

There are other jobs out there. Maybe not paying this much but at least they treat you like a human being. A small mistake is enough and you get blamed. You have to come to work even on the weekends sometimes to finish writing your reports. Everyone is walking around eggshells. Waking up each morning with a knot in your stomach that you need to take digestive medicine regularly. You won’t tolerate any of this even if it will cost you this job or even better you’re going to quit yourself.

You push these hateful thoughts into the back of your mind so you can pull through the day. The first month you started to work here you thought it would pass but things didn’t get better over time. It just became worse but you didn’t want to be a girl who quit when things get difficult but even you know there’s a difference between not giving up and being foolish. Today you felt like the biggest fool out there.

They say life is beautiful.

You don’t remember the last time you felt happy. You keep working without enjoying life. You don’t have a boyfriend and you rarely talk to your family due to issues. You have lost a few friends as well because of the workload. You think about all the cancelled plans.

Although, enough is enough. This is the time you decide to let go. You’re going to tell him your opinion after you hand in your report at the end of the day. You even write your resignation letter. He will regret it. You’re bright and a good employee. It’s his loss if he lets you go.

You said that but you get nervous once you stand in front of his office you won’t change your mind on the subject you just need to find some courage again. You’re going to do what no one in the company dares to do. Everyone is scared of him the only reason that people don’t swarm him with letters of resignation every day is because it takes a lot of courage to see him directly. Everyone is afraid of him. Bad rumours are circulating about him saying that he’s mental. He has weird fixations and someone even told you that his parents regularly went to a psychologist with him when he was little. You don’t know if anything is true. You’ve never seen his parents visit him or even call him once. He never smiles or talks about himself not that you spent that much time alone with him. You only see him in regular monthly meetings otherwise everyone tries to avoid him inside the company the only exception is when you hand in important documents that you have to see him directly but that doesn’t consist of much as he just takes it and you leave.

You knock first then enter when he gives you the green light.

He looks hellishly good-looking in that black suit and perfectly styled hair, like the devil. He’s reading something but stops what he’s doing and looks up at you when you stop right in front of his desk. You hand him your report and he receives it without a single thank you or in fact, he’s not saying anything. You take in a calming breath before you speak.

This is your cue to leave but you stay rooted. Reliving that humiliation and mistreatment over the year that you’ve been working here whilst looking into his dark brown eyes helps you to finally find the courage to speak.

“This is my resignation but there’s something I would like to tell you before I leave.” You take a deep breath before you lock with his dark gaze again. You’re still furious and hurt. His soulless eyes are staring at you intensely as if he’s seeing you for the first time.

“I’ve never been through such a humiliating experience in my entire life. I wanted to hold on and not give up this job but I can’t do this anymore. I had enough of the mistreatment I received as a woman. Do you even consider me as a human? Groping my ass and making sexual jokes if the men that work here think that it’s okay to do that then I don’t want to work here anymore. The CEO should protect its people yet you looked into my eyes and did nothing to stop it. Are you a psychopath? Do you have feelings at all? I wonder if there’s anyone left in hell seeing as you are here making my life a living hell.” You want to say more but words get stuck in your throat as his expression changes.

Once you’re done unleashing your anger Jeongguk stands up from his chair and gets close to you. Real close. You step back until your back is against the wall your heart is hammering away in your chest afraid of what he will do. He closes up on you with a straight face his gaze is unreadable as he presses you against the wall. His face is really close and you close your eyes waiting for something. Is he going to slap you? If he was going to shout he could do that from his seat just fine. You wait for your punishment but it doesn’t come in the form you expected it to be.

He slams his lips against yours taking your breath away. Your eyes pop open wide as you see his face up close. You could see his closed eyelids ending in long eyelashes he breaths hard against your face. His expression is weird like he’s in pain while kissing you.

You push him away harshly unsure how to handle this situation. His gaze is intense as he looks at you. It’s crazy how his usually unexpressive eyes show such impulsive desire in them. He looked dangerous before but now it feels like you’re caught up in a trap.

Maybe there’s some truth in the rumours. You need to get out of here.

“Where are you going?” Jeongguk grabs your wrist before you can bolt for the door. Your face contorts in pain and fear instead of the previous alluring expression you had and he dislikes it. His hand is crushing your wrist as he pulls you back against him keeping you in place.

He saw that expression enough times to be boring but when you said all those things your eyes were fiery. You looked angry, hurt and confident. Defiant. He liked that expression so much that his whole body got covered in goosebumps. He felt the impulse to kiss you maybe do more. This is the first time someone told him off. Did not cower in fear even his own parents feared him. In life there’s nothing that Jeongguk didn’t get if he wished for it it was already his. His every wish and whim was granted. His parents never cared for him he could tell from a young age. He was never like the kids his age. They got him everything so they wouldn’t have to pay attention to him and now that he had his company to run there wasn’t a single wish of his that was unheard, except for one, he wanted to get excited. Sometimes expensive things did the trick then he started collecting beautiful things but his excitement never stayed for long. He got bored of anything he possessed quickly. You could be another whim for all he cares but he feels that you will be different. You’re treating him differently and he wants to explore all your expressions. Now he decided to have you. You can’t just get away if he needs to use force he will do it. You piqued his interest so you need to pay the price. He sees you in a new light.

“I want to go home.” Your face twists as his fingers tighten around your hand. It’s past the point where you’re sure it will bruise tomorrow. His wild expression is activating your fight or flight reflexes. It feels like he’s far away before he focuses back on your face.

“Do you think you can get away with what you said?” There’s something crazy in his eyes. You can’t explain it but it feels like you’re onto something far more dangerous than just getting fired.

He’s not gentle at all as he handles you.

“What will you do? Kill me?” You spit it out without a second thought but you’re just trying to mask how terrified you feel. Trying to survive you realise quickly that you won’t get out if you show that you’re scared of him. You need to find out what he wants from you.

“No. I won’t kill you. I’m going to keep you.” His finger gently clasps around a few strands of your hair pulls the tips over to his mouth to kiss it and takes a huge perverted sniff smelling your shampoo. He doesn’t pull on your hair thankfully and when your expression changes his attitude changes as well. He’s more gentle as he touches you.

“Bold of you to think I would want to do anything with you after what I had to endure at this company.” You pull away pretending to be disgusted. While his careful touch was ominous you can’t deny how your heart started to beat faster. His face changes minute by minute and you can’t predict what he will do next. One time he’s docile and the next he’s aggressive. Your heart tries to jump out of your chest as you wait for his next moves.

“I can take care of them. The ones who humiliated you I can get rid of them. Make sure that no one will lay a finger on you at the company ever again. All you need to do is to indulge me.” He caresses the side of your face as he speaks his mouth forms a small smile when you don’t push him away.

���I don’t believe you. If you stop finding me interesting you will just discard me in the end. I won’t play your games.” He might give you momentarily power but you know that he could take it back anytime.

“Discard you? No baby, I’m going to use you until there’s nothing left of you. Once I get obsessed with something I won’t lose interest until there’s nothing left to obsess over.” It’s true he discards things that are broken by him. If he doesn’t like something anymore he destroys them.

A man like him obsessing over you. No wonder he doesn’t have a girlfriend. A handsome man only remains single for a long time if there’s something wrong with him and he clearly has a few loose screws.

“Okay.” You must be crazy to agree too.

Jeongguk kisses you again and this time you don’t push him away. You twist your fingers into his hair deepening the kiss. You’re kissing the infamous devil it feels thrilling how his hands pull you to him possessively. Courage saved your life many times but this time it feels like you’re going to hell.

It feels so wrong that it feels so good.

His lips map out the curve of your neck his body flush against yours. He picks you up and pushes you against the wall his arm muscles flex as he holds your weight up with ease. Your legs curl around his small waist to balance. With the new position, your skirt rode up your thighs until the fabric was bunched around your waist.

Things are escalating fast but you don’t try to stop him. You will let the flames engulf you.

It’s only your panties that separate you from the pleasure as he rubs his cock into you.

He’s going to be big you can tell by feeling the outline.

Your hands wrap around his neck and his hands wrap around your torso to lift you off the wall and place you on his desk. Jeongguk spreads your legs with his fingers placing them on his shoulders as he hovers over you. The position is embarrassing you feel open and spread out on his desk.  The pens and binders dig into your back but it all fades to the background. Anyone could just come in and see you but you remember that normally no one dares to come to his office unless it’s unavoidably necessary.

Even if someone came in they wouldn’t dare to say anything with the CEO’s notorious reputation.

He rubs his nose around your clothed slit taking huge whiffs of air as he’s committing your smell into his memory. It’s dirty but arousing. His nose does a good job at rubbing your clit eliciting moans from you.

“Stop teasing me.” Jeongguk could read your frustrated expression so he decided to push your panties to the side and push two fingers into you. The sudden intrusion hurt but soon ebbed away as he slowly moved them in and out paying attention to your clit with his tongue to make you feel good. You coated his fingers in your arousal, it made a wet sound each time he pushed his fingers back inside as you grew wetter.

His mouth ate you sloppily it did not look like he had much experience he just let his curiosity take the lead and experiment if it looked like you enjoyed something he repeated the motion until you were practically soaking his fingers. It's embarrassing how his inexperienced fingers could trigger your orgasm within ten minutes.

It's probably because it was the first time someone put his fingers inside you. Jeongguk cleaned up the mess. He put his soaked fingers into his mouth and cherished your taste.

“I don’t taste weird right?” You don’t know if it’s bad or not, no one tasted you to say it for sure and for a reason you felt insecure. No matter how bad of a reputation he has within the company he’s every woman’s wet dream he’s so perfect that it’s scary to think about it sometimes. He has a perfectly sculptured nose with sexy facial features even his body is fit and just the right amount of fat and muscle. He could be so perfect if he wasn’t so twisted in the head.

“No, It’s strongly sweet. I like it.” He reassures you with a smile. It would look almost innocent if he hadn’t got his hand palming his obvious erection as he sucks on his fingers.

“Sit down.” Drunk on his compliment you don’t think about anything other than having his perfect cock buried in you. He seemed to like anything about you even if you’re far from perfect.

It looked like he didn’t really care about your appearance he just found you beautiful after he changed his mind about you. You have a feeling he would have liked anything about your appearance it just needs to be you.

It’s embarrassing how your legs wobble once you try to stand but he doesn’t laugh at all. Jeongguk pushes his pants down his ankle along with his underwear and man spreads on his expensive leather chair waiting for you while his eyes look you over hungrily. You’re surprised he follows orders so well after all he’s a powerful figure that bows to no one. It looks like he doesn’t care about that if he can get his dick wet.

Jeongguk strokes his cock with his big hands spreading the precum all around as you get closer and closer. He’s more than ready. You straddle his hips positioning yourself over him one hand moves your panties to the side for quick access. You sit slowly swallowing him inch by inch until he’s buried deep. Jeongguk throws his head back when you slowly circle your hips testing out the stretch.

“Did you have sex before?” To be honest it feels like a ridiculous question to ask him but with his inexperience showing it makes you feel that way. You doubt he had a healthy relationship with a woman before so it wouldn’t be a surprise if he hadn’t had sex before.

“No. You’re the first.” Jeongguk moans deeply when you tighten around him suddenly. You can hardly believe that you can be the first to fuck him.

Technically he’s your first too but you’re not going to tell him that. He would like it too much. Thanks to your big dildo that you practised on for years you have no difficulty taking him.

A part of you likes it. Everyone keeps nagging you about when will you get a boyfriend. You were never good at keeping up with a relationship you didn’t want to make an effort to keep it and now with him, you don’t think he will care how much effort you put in. Even if you wanted to you had a feeling it would be nearly impossible to get rid of him.

He said so himself he’s not going to let go of his object of desire until there’s nothing left of it.

You start moving and panting as you extort yourself by bouncing on his lap with this angle he hits all the right spots that you can’t stop even when your thighs start to ache. Yet you push through the ache and ride him like you mean it. You should do some sports as you’re getting tired too soon. Jeongguk helps you with his hands lifting you by the hips and slamming you down on his cock. He trusts up into you for extra measure and that makes it super deep as he pounds into you. He’s going to cum soon.

His virgin cock fills you up to the brim with his cum but he doesn’t let up once he cums he pushes through the oversensitivity not stopping until you cum too. His thumb rubs your clit in fast circles while his hips flex and shove his cock deep inside with fast precise thrusts until you cream around him.

You move your panties to cover your pussy again and try to ignore the feeling of his cum oozing out. You help Jeongguk clean up as well using a lot of tissues to clean up the mess that he has on his desk and chair. The last thing you need to fix is his hair while you like it touseled like this you need to make sure no one knows you two just fucked.

There’s still an hour left until everyone clocks out.

“I guess this would do.” You look over him one more time except for his swollen lips he looks good. His hair and clothes are perfectly in order. Your finger swipes over his lower lip trying to clean the remains of your lipstick when you hear a knock.

Contemplating what to do you decide it’s best if you just remain there standing by his side.

Jeongguk clears his throat and tells the person to come in when you nod. “S-Sorry for disturbing you. I’m here to hand in my report.”

It’s the new blonde girl that entered the company not long ago. She tries to hide her desire for her boss but she does a poor job at that. If she didn’t show a strong face of fear she could be the one now with his cum dripping down your legs. However, Jeongguk finds her uninteresting. Fear is boring. He likes you now and everyone around him is just a passing figure.

“Oh, Y/N, you’re here too. Sorry boss, I didn’t know you had someone here. Then excuse me.” She bows and leaves quickly. Thankfully she doesn’t seem to think you standing next to him is weird.

You release a huge breath that you were holding back the entire time in fear of getting caught.

“I guess I have to go back to my seat too.” Unsure what to do you decided to just do more work before you let your thoughts run wild. You agreed to be somewhat his girlfriend but not at the same time so you’re confused about what you two are at the moment.

The entire situation is fucked up.

“No. Stay here until I finish my work.” Jeongguk pulls you to sit on his lap but you’re worried that his cum dripping out of you will stain his pants so you want to stand up but he doesn’t let you.

“I- I need to clean up.” You try again but he holds you against his chest firmly by a hand around your waist. His other flipping through some reports.

“I don’t want you to be where I can’t see you.” This man, can someone grow this obsessed so soon? Or maybe he is always transfixed on one thing and now that one thing is you. You barely know anything about this man but you will have all the time to learn.

“If you let me go clean up I will go home with you.” You can use this as a bargain chip if you don’t he might even try to kidnap you and make you stay in his house without ever letting you leave.

“Okay. Come back soon.” You can taste yourself on his tongue. Reality starts to sink in as you let Jeongguk kiss you needily.

After you clean up in the bathroom you take a look at your reflection. Not that long ago you dried your tears and fixed your make-up thinking that you were going to quit and now look at you. Your neck is forming bruises and you have your boss’ cum in you. Things changed fast.

After that, you went back just like you promised and sat on his lap while he reviewed reports until working hours. He occasionally kissed your neck as he worked dividing his attention. This might be the first time in weeks you don’t have to work overtime as he drives you to his condo. He held your hand which is a nice romantic gesture but you have an inkling he was just holding it knowing that you can’t run away.

His house is in pristine condition it looks like one of the model houses you see in a magazine. It doesn’t feel like someone is living here, no family pictures or any personal items in his space. The fridge is also empty. It didn’t look like he was cherishing good childhood memories. Usually, a home is filled with pictures but he doesn’t have any.

“Do you really live here?” Half a day ago you wouldn’t dare to speak to your boss this way but you realised that you have no reason to fear him anymore. Jeongguk hides his face in the crook of your neck smelling you again.

“Hmn.” He answers while hugging you from the back. It will take a while to get used to this new side that you see.

“There’s nothing here to eat.” You close the fridge with a dissatisfied frown. You’re famished after skipping dinner to write that report and now there’s nothing here to eat. Not even a single orange. The fridge is absolutely empty except for five bottles of sparkling water.

“I mostly order takeout.” You roll your eyes but fish out your phone from your pockets. You can order from your favourite restaurant.

“What do you want to eat…uh, Jeongguk?” You hesitate for a moment before you cautiously call out his name. It’s past working hours so technically he’s not here as your boss and you’re in his house and already fucked which is already unprofessional enough that calling his name wouldn’t be that big of a deal.

“Anything is fine.” You nod noting that he doesn’t seem to mind you calling out his first name. You dial the right number and tell the server your order, and you decide on pizza. You try your hardest not to mess up your order as Jeongguk decides to stop waiting and pepper kisses all over your neck forming new hickeys and kissing over the forming ones. You will need a lot of make-up to hide this tomorrow. He didn’t really take your resignation so you think you still have your job at the company.

“S-Stop it, the food will be here soon.” The protest dies on your tongue as he fondles your breasts over your clothes. He kisses you passionately like he didn’t get to fuck you just hours ago.

“I can be quick.” You don’t need much more convincing as you spread your legs for him. He doesn’t waste time removing your underwear and spreads your pussy with two fingers. It feels good when he licks the bud flicking his tongue over it before he wraps his perfect lips around your clit and sucks. Your legs shake as he keeps licking your hands tangle into his hair pulling when he pushes his tongue into you.

Jeongguk moans and breaths hardly into you as you keep pulling his hair the sharp pain in his scalp goes straight to his cock. His face gets wet with your arousal as you keep squirming running from the pleasure. He doesn’t let you get away he holds you open with both hands on either side of your thighs using only his wet tongue to bring you bliss.

It's obscene how his brows furrow in concentration and his mouth makes that wet sound relentlessly licking and rolling his tongue until your orgasm washes over you and you cum all over his mouth.

Jeongguk made sure you finished before the food arrived.

You both scarfed down the food in ten minutes before he showed you his bedroom and laid you down on it.

He had the stamina to keep you up all night with his cock buried in your heat. You had work the next day but you were sure your boss wouldn’t scold you if you were late this time.

You felt invincible after becoming Jeongguk’s secretary no one dared to grab you or say anything rude to you after they witnessed Jeongguk’s anger everyone knew in the company that you had him wrapped around your finger. No one dared to approach you as Jeongguk is a possessive lover. The men hated you and the women loved you as you made their jobs easier after getting rid of the people who harassed the female staff. Jeongguk would fire everyone in a heartbeat if you said so.

At first, you were afraid if you could keep up his interest but his obsession never faded.

There’s this blonde again. You can tell what she’s thinking in that little head of hers. It was obvious from the start that she wanted Jeongguk but apparently, he only wants you. No matter how hard she tries to flutter her lashes or wear revealing clothes he doesn’t care.

She comes in to hand in a report trying to impress him with her work but fails when he doesn’t react.

Getting annoyed by her relentless tries to seduce your boyfriend you decide to end her delusions once and for all.

You sit down on Jeongguk’s lap as he flips through her report for a moment he looks surprised you normally don’t initiate contact when someone is in his office but he doesn’t mind it as he always craves your touches and attention. His hand is holding you to him by placing it on your stomach. You even relax into his body and lay against him with your head right under his chin. She can’t say a single thing but her face is turning red as you kiss his cheek. Jeongguk smiles at your cuteness but his eyes remain on the report.

He wants to read it as soon as possible so that woman would leave and he can have you all to himself.

“He’s mine.” You mouth to her.

She glares at you but once Jeongguk rejects the report and tells her to fix it by this afternoon without looking at her she accepts defeat and leaves the two of you alone. You swear there are tears in her eyes as she leaves in a hurry.

“You’re hot when you’re jealous baby.” You thought that he didn’t realise your little exchange as he was glued to the report but it seems nothing can escape him when it comes to you.

“Of course, no one can touch what is mine.” You smile into the kiss swallowing his wanton moans as you palm him over his pants.

Usually, he’s all over you but this time you decide to show him how much you appreciate his sole obsession.

[coralaura]

Primadonna

Yandere! Platonic! Batfamily x Model! GN Reader

“All I ever wanted was the world”

Your mother always feared what you could become when you were in her womb, you had so much bad blood running through your veins, she wished from the depths of her being that you were like your father, Bruce Wayne.

A wish that no matter how much she longed for was not fully fulfilled, you obtained the features of a Wayne, so cold and defined that if people had at least two neurons they could connect the dots and know that you were a bastard of the philanthropist.

You may have looked like him but your personality was more that of your beloved mother, the woman who gave birth to you and despite noticing the same darkness of her in you, she wanted to love that little piece of light that she cultivated in her womb.

It was easy to know that her departure left you devastated, you were just a child from the slums, your mother was a high-risk victim, easy to kill and that no one cared about, found in an alley, dead, her last expression was fear and despair.

Heartless people took it from you, but you were as smart as your mother, you were the result of the union of a millionaire and a woman who provided certain services…

And your mom, I knew that your beauty and the personality that you cultivated during the last 7 years of your life would save you, because you are like a rose, a beauty on the outside but only thorns on the inside.

Your father was never interested in seeing you, he always had time for everything but you, mom told you to never beg for attention because it will make you look weak and needy and you learned that lesson well, the first time he ignored you was the first and the last because there would be no more rejections if you never tried again, if now you reject him first, right?

The same was with the others except for Alfred who believed in your sweet look full of innocence, your resemblance to Bruce, Thomas and even a brief hint of Martha Wayne.

He fell into the rose but didn't see its thorns, he took care of the flower so close without being hurt by its edge, because he was the only one you could trust, he won your trust and the title of father in your eyes.

As the years went by the beauty in your face was not hard to notice, people noticed it and one day they offered you to be a model, twenty dollars an hour they told you and it was easy for you, you didn't want to ask any Wayne for anything, you didn't want to owe them anything, so money was necessary for it and to no one's surprise, a pretty face triumphs in this business, you just had to smile and pose.

Show a little body and smile again, that was what mom did, only this time this job was acceptable and not physical, one felt just as desecrated, because people began to draw a detailed map of your body, analyzing in detail and calling you the closest thing to the chiseled body of a God.

The only thing that was yours was what kept the “decency” still on the plate, the only thing that had not been desecrated but had always been longed for, by men and women alike and it was so suffocating, it seemed to consume your will to continue.

And soon you knew that you were more than an object to be seen and never to be touched, because a simple touch melted anyone, enchanted by your beauty, that became your weapon, you took advantage of the gift of genetics and used it to manipulate.

People never realized why someone pretty can not be evil, right?

You used tricks, you ruined your rivals with words, with actions and you made them look bad, because after all you were too pretty to be that evil. It's all someone else's fault, but yours, isn't it my sweet diva?

What a mistake it is to think that a beautiful rose can't be rotten inside, because after all your mother's blood flows through your veins and if she is a poison of society then you are already rotten from the moment you were conceived.

All you wanted was to be adored, the world was yours to play with, your ego a great double-edged sword and people's adoration was surpassing your expectations, any psychologist would say that you only want people's attention because your family never gave it to you, however he wouldn't know that that was nonsense, what was the use of their attention if you had the world wrapped in a ring that revolved around you?

Where you were the protagonist of this story and you get everything the world had to offer. You get everything for being Y/N even though you don't really deserve it.

Although that attention that you wanted so much also includes a family full of people obsessed with the idea of you coming home but that is a story that is just being written.

“The primadonna life, the rise and fall”

My first language is not English, so much of it was done with the help of translators (google translate) So if you see something that could be improved I appreciate it, comments, ideas, criticism and advice are appreciated.

[octuscle]

The ghost of Gamma Omega Lambda Delta

“Are you sure we're standing in front of the right house?” asked Leander. The property was in a miserable state. The porch was half collapsed, the front garden a mixture of jungle and garbage dump. The exposé had shown a reasonably presentable house, which certainly had potential as an investment property in the immediate vicinity of the campus. Leander looked at Jacob a little disparagingly. Jacob was the prototype of a sleazy real estate agent. A little too fat for his not-so-new suit. The heels of his shoes were worn out. And with the help of a little too much pomade, the top of his head painstakingly concealed his incipient baldness. Jacob struck a pose. “You know what my real estate investment is all about: location, location, location! And this is a prime location. Perfect for a boarding house for guest lecturers. Or as a commercial student residence for exchange students. The Germans and Scandinavians will pay almost any price for rent.” Leander sighed. He came from Berlin himself and knew how expensive it was to study in California. But it had paid off. He was in his late 20s, a millionaire several times over after the exit of his start-up and he had no intention of dying a millionaire. His goal was a billion. “All right, then, let's take a look at the wreckage from the inside.”

The first thing they saw was a cat fleeing from them in a panic when Jacob unlocked the door. It looked as if no human had disturbed its peace for a long time. The house reeked of cat pee and mustiness. Jacob searched for a light switch with his flashlight. Leander pulled aside a tattered curtain in disgust and opened a window. It was clear: tear it down and build a new one. There was no alternative. The wooden floor was rotten, the light switches didn't work and the stain on the ceiling suggested a leaking roof. But in his mind's eye, there was a Starbucks branch and a co-working space down here and, if he could bribe the building authorities, one- and one-and-a-half-bedroom apartments on eight, maybe ten floors above. The location was perfect. But he didn't want to let his interest show. Leander was a good poker player. “Give me a flashlight, I'd like to have a look around upstairs,” he said to Jacob. And of course he was prepared and handed his wealthy customer a flashlight. “Do you need gloves too?” he asked. Leander waved them off. He wasn't a wimp, he wasn't afraid of getting dirty.

The stairs creaked unconvincingly as he went upstairs. “What was this before?” asked Leander. “A frat house, as far as I know,” Jacob replied. That at least partially explains the dilapidated condition, Leander thought to himself, pushing a pile of leaves aside with one foot in disgust. It wasn't just leaves. There were also the remains of weathered jockstraps. The upper floor seemed to be in an even worse state than the first floor… But at least there was a light on in one room. Amazing!

Jacob left his client alone. When he sold the property, it would be renovated. The property was huge. There used to be a basketball court and a pool on the dilapidated property. Of course, both were no longer recognizable due to the undergrowth and junk. But a dormitory with 20, maybe 25 units could be built on the site alone. The battery in his flashlight was flat. He needed light… And air, it really stank to high heaven in this ruin. Jacob began to draw curtains and open windows. That made it brighter and airier. But it also made the misery more visible. Dude, this place was really run down. The floor was full of garbage and leaves, the walls were covered in graffiti… Jacob came into a hallway that looked surprisingly tidy. There were stains on the wall from pictures that were no longer hanging. Lots of pictures. All obviously the same size. Only one was still hanging:

Jacob read the writing on the plaque on the frame: "Bruh of the month 09/2024: Chad". What the hell? It was September 2024!

Leander struggled through the garbage towards the lighted room. While all the other doors hung crookedly on their hinges and were covered in graffiti, the open door to the room was almost clean and looked tidy. There was a sign on the door that read “Mitch and Scott's man cave. No entry if sock is on the door handle. Unless you can take two cocks!” The room was messy. The way a dorm room was usually messy. But it looked as if Mitch and Scott had just stepped out for a quick shower after a fierce sword fight. It smelled of musk, sweat and cum. Leander got a hard-on.

Jacob felt uncomfortable. Something's not right here. He also had to pee. No, he had to piss. Fuck, his bladder felt like after two pitchers of beer. He had to burp. And his burp smelled and tasted like beer. There had been toilets around here somewhere. Better to piss in a broken toilet than just in a corner, he thought to himself. Yes, this was where the washrooms were. A frat boy was standing at a urinal and wanking. He looked curiously at Jacob's crotch. Did Jacob have to be uncomfortable now? Never mind, he had to piss. And if a bro was wanking next to him, that was somehow a compliment.

Leander opened one of the cupboards. It smelled like a boys' locker room in high school. T-shirts, football gear, jockstraps, sneakers… Everything was just stuffed into the cupboard. Some of it was clean. Other things were obviously not. Without giving it much thought, Leander undressed and pulled on a jockstrap, a pair of ripped jeans and a shiny college jacket. He found a pair of formerly white socks and sneakers on the floor. Everything fit perfectly. But with his 35 years and beer belly, he looked really ridiculous.

“I'm Dylan, are you new here?” asked the wanking bro next to him as Jacob buttoned his jeans. “Because if you're new, you might as well leave your jeans unbuttoned. I prefer to see the cocks of the new guys who suck me off outside their pants”. Jacob looked at Dylan's hard-on. impressive compared to his own. He went down on his knees. “Wait a minute!” said Dylan. “No one blows me with a stuffy shirt like that.” Leander freed his upper body. And let his tongue play with Dylan's shaft.

Leander lay on Scott's bed. He sucked in Scott's scent. For a sophomore, Scott smelled like a real man. Leander thought about Scott's hairy balls. He liked it that Scott didn't shave. Nothing against a clean-shaven cock and clean-shaven balls. But a man was hairy, he thought as he scratched his chest hair. Out in the hallway, he heard Scott and Mitch coming. They were both praising each other's performance at football practice. The two of them came into their room. Scott grinned and said that his prayers had been answered. He had wished for an awesome cardio workout before the party tonight.

Jacob asked his roommate Dylan why they only ever had sex in the washroom and never in their room. Dylan licked some of his own cum, which was dripping from the corner of Jacob's mouth, off his face. “Because it would be totally homo if we slept in the same bed we were fucking in.” Jacob didn't ask. He was here for his wrestling scholarship, not his intelligence. If Dylan, who had at least once had a B in English and supposedly even in math, said so, it would be true.

Jacob, Dylan, Mitch, Scott, and Leander all arrived at the Gamma Omega Lambda Delta fraternity house party cave at almost the same time. The party was in full swing. Jacob and Leander greeted each other with a chest bump. It was customary among the college wrestlers. And then they started drinking. The others had been at it for an hour. They had some catching up to do.

Shit, it was 05:00. Both of them had already thrown up some of the beer and tequila they had drunk. And poured new beers and tequilas. Leander actually had to rewrite his microeconomics exam today. If he failed again, he would probably have to allow the dean to blow him again. But what was much worse was that they had wrestling practice this afternoon. If Coach found out that they had overdone it again as party animals, they would be in big trouble. Okay, but that could also be settled with a blowjob. Besides, they still had four hours to sleep, no one expected the two stallions to show up on campus before 10:00. Life as a frat boy was just awesome!

[virune]

Oh oh story prompt!

"After a rather long day, two very tired hedgehogs find out they've been sharing a secret resting place"? Hope that makes sense, just two hedgehogs being like "oi this is my isolated sleepy spot-" LMAO

Sonic was bone-tired.

Eggman had really pulled out all the stops today. Droves upon droves of badniks, all powered by a chaos emerald that the doctor had somehow managed to get his mitts on. Then, if that weren't bad enough, he'd even brought Metal Sonic along with him, if only to add insult to injury.

It was all over now, at least: with the help of his friends - Tails' smarts, Amy's perseverance, Knuckles' strength, and Rouge's cunning, the doctor's evil plot had been sufficiently brought to an end, one destroyed badnik at a time.

"Wasn't expecting you to join the party, Rouge," Sonic had told the bat, smiling at her as she dusted off her immaculate clothes.

"Well, let's just say I happened to be in the area." Rouge's replies always seemed to be intentionally cryptic, Sonic noticed. "And besides, any chance I have to knock that rotten doctor down a peg, I'll take. He's a nuisance for all of us."

"Hah! Can't argue with that." Sonic rubbed his arm, and then reached out a hand just as Rouge was about to fly off. "Wait! I - can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Big Blue." There was a twinkle in the bat's eye, one that Sonic only usually saw when Shadow was nearby. Speaking of which…

"How come Shadow wasn't with you? Is he… on a mission?"

"That's right." Rouge's eyes seemed to glitter even more, as though she could sense his disappointment. "Very important business. I'm sure you understand."

Sonic offered a smile. "Yeah."

"Why, were you hoping to see him?"

"What - I - no! I was just curious! You two are friends, aren't you?"

Rouge's hand found a place on her hip, pinning Sonic in place with a gaze that seemed to be able to find anything it ever searched for. She had always been so incredibly perceptive - especially when it came to Sonic's little… crush.

"Of course," she said, her voice smooth and nonchalant. It made his fur stand on end. "Don't sweat it, hon. I'm sure you'll get to see him soon."

Before Sonic could babble out a flustered reply, Rouge took off at last, disappearing into the darkening sky.

Wow, was it that late already? Despite his frazzled nerves, Sonic found himself feeling tired, mouth stretching open into a generous yawn. Well, since Eggman had been taken care of, surely it couldn't hurt to grab some shut-eye.

Luckily for him, he knew a nice little spot. Somewhere quiet and undisturbed. And it wasn't too far from here - at least, not at the speed he was capable of.

And so, with a final wave goodbye to his friends, Sonic vanished up the mountain in a cobalt blue streak.

---

Someone was in his spot.

Even from up on the bank, Sonic couldn't miss the orange glow coming from the cabin windows, nor the smoke billowing from the chimney. It was getting darker still, and somebody had stumbled upon this place and made it their own.

But who?

This old cabin had been left, seemingly abandoned, up on a mountain. Surely nobody could find it under normal means. Sonic himself only found the cabin because he'd decided to take a detour from his usual running path, winding up the mountain until he was pushing open the door to look inside.

It was a nice little cabin, too. Nobody came back to claim it so Sonic decided to… well, make it his own little place, so to speak. He didn't have any qualms sleeping outside, but sometimes curling up in front of a warm fire was nice too. So what if he wanted to indulge himself from time to time? He thought he'd earned that at least, saving the world as often as he did, and as he continued to do.

So to discover that someone else had snuck in while he'd been distracted made him a little annoyed.

He didn't want to just barge in the front door - after all, if they were capable of scaling the mountain, Sonic couldn't underestimate whoever was inside. Was it Eggman? Had he found the cabin somehow? Had he followed Sonic there and set up a trap?

Whatever the case, Sonic had to be ready for a fight.

He approached as quietly as he could; stealth was never his forte, but if he wanted the upper hand, then he needed to be delicate. After all, he'd hate for his beloved cabin to get destroyed in an altercation. Maybe he could take down the intruder swiftly, or find some way to lure them out before they fought. Keeping the cabin intact was his main priority.

Sonic went to peek through the window, but he grit his teeth with some irritation to find that the curtains had been pulled shut. Damn. What now? The front door lacked any windows or mail slot. How could he get inside without being noticed?

He saw it then. On the second floor. An open window.

Hah! Had the intruder completely forgotten to close it? Sonic took a couple steps back and gauged the distance - he could probably climb up. A running jump would be too noisy. So, giving himself a moment to stretch, he braced himself against the bricks and began to ascend.

His fingers hurt, digging deep in the crevices between each brick, but he pushed on. The window was inches away now. He pushed himself up, brushing the windowsill with his fingertips and hoisting his body up. Slowly, silently, Sonic climbed through and into the bathroom.

It was dark. But it was also empty. A good sign. That meant he hadn't been caught yet. He closed the bathroom window behind him before he tried the door handle, opening it as carefully as he could to avoid making any sound. It was so uncharacteristic of Sonic to move this slowly, but he tried his best, because his favourite sleeping spot was in jeopardy.

He tiptoed along the carpet at the top of the stairs and peeked down over the railing to see if he could spot anything. The glow was brighter from here and he realised it was coming from the hearth in the living room. Someone was using up all the firewood! Oh, the nerve. If they weren't dangerous, maybe Sonic could convince them to leave.

The first step creaked under his weight and Sonic froze, expecting alarm bells to sound off, expecting a trap to spring, expecting badniks to swarm him. Anything. Instead, nothing happened. The fire crackled. The peace continued on.

OK, well, he wasn't in trouble yet. He still had time to figure out who the intruder was. Taking a deep breath, Sonic made his way down the rest of the stairs. He was standing near the doorway now. The living room was just around the corner. He could see the shadows of a figure dancing on the opposite wall; whoever they were, they'd made themselves pretty comfortable on the sofa.

Sonic squinted his eyes. As he focused harder, he realised that the silhouette looked vaguely familiar. They weren't moving - were they asleep? - but he couldn't deny that the stranger seemed to have quills that turned upwards at the end in a way that was so distinct, so unnatural for a hedgehog to have.

He inhaled again, and he caught the unmistakable scent of lavender in his nose.

It couldn't be.

He turned the corner at last.

"You!"

Shadow jolted upright, the book he'd apparently been engrossed in falling from his lap and thudding against the floor. His red eyes met Sonic's, burning brightly against the glow of the fire.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Shadow asked.

"What am I - what are you?" Sonic cried, incredulous. "This is my cabin!"

Shadow removed the green woollen blanket from his legs to stand up. "Don't be ridiculous. I found this cabin months ago."

Sonic balked. That couldn't be right. He found the cabin. He'd been coming here regularly for weeks - months, even!

"I don't understand. This is my favourite sleeping spot. I didn't think anyone else knew about this place…"

Shadow retrieved his book from the floor, dog-earing the page he was on and sitting back down. "That makes two of us."

"So, spill. How often do you come here?"

"Couple times a month. When I have a moment."

"So do I." Sonic stepped closer. "Listen, I had to deal with Eggman today. Rouge was there. Where were you?"

"Elsewhere," was all Shadow answered.

Sonic clenched his fists. He was always happy to see Shadow, although he'd never admit it, but he wasn't happy about this new discovery.

"Alright, well. I'm pretty tired, and I wanted to rest here tonight…"

Shadow stared at him. "So?"

"So!" Sonic fumbled, gesturing vaguely to the door. "Leave! So I can relax."

Instead of leaving, Shadow tilted his head to the side. "Why don't we both just stay here? I'm willing to tolerate it, if it's all the same to you."

Sonic's mouth snapped shut. His face was warm, and not because of the fire. Absolutely not. There's no way he could relax with Shadow, of all people, around. Especially not in such a… comfortable, domestic setting. It was too much for him. He'd rather run a hundred laps through a blizzard than cope with his stupid feelings.

A hand patted the empty spot on the sofa, breaking Sonic from his thoughts.

"Sit. I want to finish this chapter."

Sonic frowned, willing his heart to stop racing. He eased himself onto the sofa next to Shadow, staring straight ahead. For some reason he was afraid to look. Shadow was much too close.

"Rouge recommended this book to me." Shadow's voice was soft and deep and it all but made Sonic nearly jump out of his pelt. "I'm about halfway through now. She expects to hear my thoughts on it."

"Oh?" Sonic dared to look, then, if only because Shadow's attention was directed down at the book in his hands. He scooted closer, just a fraction, to see what the writing was like. The scent of lavender was much stronger now. "Is it good?"

"I'm enjoying it," Shadow admitted. Sonic caught the ghost of a smile on Shadow's face and decided that he liked it, and would very much like to see Shadow smile more often.

"Good," was all Sonic could say, quite hopelessly, as he willed himself to relax into the sofa cushion. His eyes drifted closed for just a moment, exhaustion setting in as he basked in the soothing warmth.

"Let's agree that this cabin is off-limits for fighting," Shadow said. His eyes didn't leave the book, but Sonic wasn't so sure he was actually reading anymore. "It's too nice to ruin."

Sonic's mouth suddenly felt dry, but he worked hard to get his voice back. "Y-yeah," he stammered out, feeling like an idiot. "I don't think either of us will wanna give it up, right?"

Shadow hummed in agreement. "We'll just have to compromise. That means sharing."

"Sharing," Sonic confirmed. Despite himself, he found himself smiling at the idea.

Basked in the firelight, he snuggled just a bit closer to Shadow, whose body was as warm as the fire. He could probably get used to this, he reckoned.

Before he knew it, Sonic fell asleep to the scent of lavender and an arm around his waist.

[save-the-villainous-cat]

Hellooo :D Could I request a villain who suddenly realizes that hero was once a terrifying supervillain? (Maybe a situation lead to the reveal or something? It's up to you!!) If my request doesn't tickle ur fancy then feel free to ignore <33

The other villain cocked their head.

"Change that uniform all you want," they said, grinning as they kept squeezing the hero's throat. "But it will never change what you are inside."

The other villain leaned in and put all the pressure they could come up with on the hero's windpipe, going as far as using their entire body weight to crush the hero's throat. Thus, tears ran down the hero's cheeks as they tried to force some oxygen back into their lungs.

They grabbed the other villain's wrists as they struggled but there was no mercy in the other villain's eyes, there was no escape. It wasn't even a fruitful attempt at defense.

It burnt, everything burnt. It was an indescribable pain, something so horrible that they gave up immediately. The hero wanted this to be over; they couldn't fight back.

It was true that the hero had regenerative abilities to some degree. But the other villain had also poisoned them earlier.

So, all in all, the hero's day wasn't going great.

"You will always be that disgusting piece of shit you've always been. It doesn't matter how many people you save. It doesn't matter what you do. You are rotten to the core and I can't wait to see you die." They smiled callously but the hero knew their lights were gonna go out in a few seconds. At least that meant they wouldn't have to see that horrible smile anymore. "Yeah, that's right. Look at me when you die."

Both of them heard the hero's throat crack.

The pain was completely out of this world and although the hero couldn't tell what exactly was broken, they knew it couldn't be good.

The hero wished it would be over soon.

They were about to pass out but then, suddenly, someone grabbed the other villain and yanked them across the floor. The hero couldn't move. They lay there and wheezed but nothing changed. The pain was still there and it felt like an endless limbo of violence.

It was hard to imagine that they could make it home today.

Breathing hurt. Survival hurt. Deep down, they wished the other villain would have just killed them.

They were right about everything anyway.

Whatever the hero tried to do, deep down they knew they were a horrible person. Old sins weren't any less significant. They knew it was foolish to try to make up for all the damage they had caused, for all the evil things they had done.

They had thought to escape all of this one day but it followed them around like an evil shadow. They didn't deny that they deserved it but they could also barely tell if their heart could take all of this.

They were trying so hard to be good. God, they were trying.

Although the hero's vision was horribly bad, they were able to recognize their nemesis eventually.

Their nemesis who was kneeling in front of them. Their nemesis who had just saved them.

"Silly hero," the villain said. They moved some hair out of the hero's vision and touched their bruised throat with their fingertips. The hero flinched but they couldn't say anything. "Come here."

They sat down on the floor of the empty warehouse and pulled the hero into their lap.

"Let me see..." With their index finger, the villain pushed up the hero's chin which was painful enough for the hero's body to twitch and produce some sort of desperate sound. "Shh..."

The hero didn't dare to try speaking. Their throat wasn't even remotely close to starting to heal. It would probably take hours.

"You are pretty bold for attacking them on your own," the villain said softly. They raked through the hero's hair with their long fingers, holding eye contact relentlessly. The hero couldn't really think. Was it true that they couldn't have defeated them? Or had they just given up because the other villain's words had been too cruel?

"I-"

"Shh. Don't speak," the villain said. They took off their cape and blanketed the hero. Gently, the villain traced the hero's injured throat repeatedly.

It didn't even matter to the hero that it hurt. They needed the touch, they needed skin on theirs with kind intentions. They would have let the villain push their fingers into an open wound of theirs if their sweet words had accompanied them.

"I would've never guessed that your past could be...so complicated."

The hero didn't know what they had anticipated. After all, they had lied to the villain, hadn't they? The villain was surely not happy about that.

"You're better than the rest of them. Living proof that people really can change and learn." The hero closed their eyes and pressed their cheek against the villain's torso. Although those words were nice to hear, they knew it wasn't true. Not really. The villain just tried to make them feel better. "But it was foolish of you to go up against the other villain. We both can be grateful that I have some information on them that shouldn't be available to the public. But you? You're not that desperate to save people, are you? So desperate that you will attack with no plan?"

The villain's fingertips stopped on the hero's clavicle and the hero took their hand, too tired to even think about a response.

"I guess, you not being able to answer me does have its perks. You can't protest when I say that you're good at this. Better than anyone I have ever met," the villain said. The hero didn't know why. They didn't know why the villain was doing any of this. Saving them, talking to them, touching them.

The hero didn't know how on earth they deserved this.

"Forgive your younger self," the villain whispered. "Or this will have to become a regular thing."

Again, they touched the hero's throat. It was still soft but their skin and muscles were still too sensitive. The hero tried to pull away and groaned but they also knew this was a warning.

It dawned on them. The villain was toying with them, even if it was playful, even if it was gentle. They were toying with them.

"Promise me you will work on this. You need to be able to take care of yourself. Unfortunately, I can't always be your knight in shining armor."

For whatever reason, the hero simply nodded. It didn’t matter what the villain had planned for them or if they wanted to use the hero. If they wanted to manipulate them and turn them into a weapon.

All of it didn’t matter right now. It didn’t matter. The hero closed their eyes and allowed themselves to rest for just a minute with their cheek against the villain’s body and their head on the villain’s thigh.

[vhstown]

ain't no love; pt. 5

"that's why i said ain't no love" (finale)

— miles g morales x gn!reader series

SERIES SUMMARY: Miles G Morales is just a kid without a father; the Prowler is just a "rotten" vigilante. Both of them start coming into your life — one in the middle of the semester, and the other by total accident.

SERIES MASTERLIST 📼 ← PART 4 / PART 5 / EPILOG. →

chapter summary: [MULTI-POV] Miles has been a ghost, so you decide to do your own digging. Your answer might have just found you first.

content/warnings: graphic depictions of violence and injury grieving, death

word count: 8.7k (WHAT)

a/n: hey 😁 there's gonna be a teeny tiny epilogue after this one but this is the official end to aint no love! thanks to @/qiuweyballs forever for proofreading this series wouldn't exist without him 🙏

"I need that edit by 3pm, Watson!"

"Got it."

Even if the office was filled with the constant clack of keyboards, or desk phones ringing, or even Jameson himself barking right by her ear — as he was right now — MJ still had to keep up her persona. Agreeable, non-confrontational, all part of company protocol. There was no time for personal opinions or rebuttals, other than Jameson's; she was sure everyone would start coming in tin hats if it meant keeping their jobs.

"You're falling behind, you know," he continued as she quickly clicked off of the email she was working on. "Going to that school fair of yours set you at least a week behind!"

"It was one afternoon, sir. And I'm all caught up, the edit's not due until—"

"The edit is due when I say it's due. You out of all people should understand how things work around here by now. Get it done!"

The man sauntered off without much opportunity for her to reply, a cup of coffee crumpling between his fingers that he probably had yet to take a sip of. The poor intern that had made it would be the next to get an earful when he did try it, she was sure. Too much sugar! Not enough milk! Did you make this with your eyes closed? she recalled. MJ had heard it all by now.

Jameson didn't really have the gall to fire her — she knew that at the very least. The article could wait, however. Visions was yet to release a statement about their fired teacher, and the article would just look like all their other ones — speculatory and clickbait-y with not very much actual information. The Sinister Six ones certainly did well though, always on their broadcasts and the front of their website. Even NNC didn't have as much notoriety as the Bugle did with its less-than skeptical audiences.

The Visions student, right. With a few pasted links and a couple attachments, along with a lackluster "Good luck!" tacked on the end, she hit send. Good to know kids still have dumb email addresses.

She didn't take being abandoned a second time at the fair personally, really — everyone was fifteen once — but she couldn't help but wonder what had happened. It was almost imperceptible, but she knew when a smile looked off. There was something noticeably different about you when you had come back.

"MJ, uh, can I get your business card by any chance?"

"You know what a business card is?" she had joked, but it hadn't done much to ease the discomfort. "Yeah, sure. Contact me if you need anything."

"Yeah, thanks."

You'd asked for articles. Specifically on the Chameleon, and on the recent Prowler activity. You hadn't told her much, just that you needed help compiling some information for school. Some... presentation. MJ wasn't sure whether it was a lie or not, but it was all publicly available information anyhow.

You'd also wanted any information on Visions "teacher", Garrett East. His arrest had been for identity theft, and nothing more. Not many had reported on it as of yet, given he was detained so recently, but you were an insider. He had apparently been your calculus teacher, and the man that he had stolen the identity of had supposedly gone missing a few months before Garrett returned in his place. At least, that's all she had of her article. Maybe it wasn't the best idea to send it to a random high school student before her own boss, but it also wasn't like the man had any real idea what went on in his company. It was a wonder they managed to get through the quarter.

It was just a favour for someone nice she'd met. Maybe it'd repay her in some way in the future, most likely not. Regardless, she couldn't help but smile a little when she noticed her phone light up, a "thank you" text under your name. If only she actually had a work phone number, and it wasn't just her regular one. Visions students making connections already, it seemed.

The time on the screen was 2:41pm. She was met face to face with her wallpaper once again — a low-lit picture of her and a brown-haired man with glasses, the two of them smiling, red faced and dressed like their college selves. Peter Parker, her fiancé. They were holding those terrible beers he'd sworn by. He was a photographer, but this was one of the only pictures he'd taken of them together. It was shot on a bite-sized digital camera they'd bought for college, but never ended up using much. Now, it was all she really had.

Maybe the Chameleon really had come back when Peter had gone missing. Maybe it had something to do with you, with Visions

You probably already had a lot on your plate. And so did she. If she had anybody to chase, it was Otto Octavius. He'd offered Peter an internship in Manhattan. She'd never seen the man herself, only heard from him how good of a person he was, how this was going to get him a job and that it'd be good for them. That he'd finally get some use out of his degree and get to pursue science instead of taking "crummy" pictures for the Bugle. That they could save up for their wedding, and...

That was in Manhattan. The disappearances now were in Brooklyn. And even then, it was coming close to a year since he had disappeared.

She was always running in circles, at the command of an old man with a head too big for his body.

2:43pm. MJ turned off her phone, sliding it into her pocket.

Better get this edit finished.

2:43pm. Wednesday.

Ideally, with a couple days off of school, you would probably be at home, or maybe even out doing something fulfilling with your life. Maybe you could've even gone somewhere with Miles, if he hadn't up-and-disappeared along with every trace of him.

Your unread messages to him faded to black, leaving you to stare at your own face. Maybe you could've used those extra days to sleep, if it hadn't been for the chilling glow of purple eyes or the melting disfigured face that threatened to materialise everytime you closed your eyes.

What did he even like? Comics that he'd mentioned to you once? Of course he'd want to go to a comic book store with you after you'd made fun of him for seeming to want to deal with criminals himself. If only he'd come save you from Brooklyn Public Library right now. You were certain it couldn't get any more swampy in here with all the Visions students scrambling to do their off-day work right now.

Reading through the reply to a ballsy request you'd given to the Bugle's head journalist, you had a few questions in mind other than the ones concerning your disappearing, sort-of friend. Was all this research really practical? Maybe not. Would it help you sleep to know that the guy that had been teaching you calculus since the start of sophomore year was actually posing as a man that had gone missing months ago?

Another very normal thing that only seemed to happen to you.

Maybe you just attracted bad luck. That girl in your history class had joked about it last year, after you'd bumped into your teacher and every single paper he'd been holding had fallen to the ground in one scattered disaster. She wouldn't let it go, and it appeared that your brain wouldn't either.

Or like that time you went to Oscorp on a visit day and happened to be the only one there, trapped with a shapeshifting monster and the Prowler on the 90 millionth floor of that god-damned tower.

Maybe it was bad luck, or maybe you were cursed — or maybe you just walked into these situations on purpose. Like right now, sifting through years of articles on real criminals, with nothing but a hunch or fifteen.

The Chameleon had been arrested, like Miles had said, eight years ago on accounts of identity theft, much like your "teacher" but also very little like your teacher. According to what you were reading, Dmitri Smerdyakov been dubbed "the Chameleon" for a string of carefully orchestrated take-overs of big companies after impersonating their CEOs. His defence had argued that the big names in these companies were gone because they "wanted to be free of the burden of running their own companies".

You didn't have to be a journalist to make a face at that.

There was no mention of shapeshifting, as you'd seen with Wellston and Stromm. Just a couple lousy identity theft charges that didn't add up to their total amount anyway. This guy had more luck than you'd ever had.

The only other person that had seen any "shapeshifting" happen was Miles, and although he'd seemed surprised, something about his reaction was strange. You couldn't place it, but there was some sort of analytical twinge in his eyes, as if he was solving a math problem and not looking at someone shapeshift for the first time. You didn't know anything, really. Miles seemed like he did, though. If only you could bump into him and wring it out of him. And maybe go buy overpriced comic books with him and forget about the fact that your teacher had been arrested and midterms were coming up and maybe even become actual friends.

If only you were that lucky.

If only it was that easy to move past, as well. The fact that someone that had been involved in disappearances 8 years ago might be mixed up with this, along with the recent uptick in missing people made you feel uneasy. Surely any detective would have put two and two together by now, but remembering the fact that the shapeshifter had turned into a literal police officer dissolved any reassurance that thought might've brought. You were in a public library surrounded by unoptimistic college students, parents with their kids and even some of your own classmates, but the feeling was completely your own, tucked away behind a computer screen and a booked monitor session.

You couldn't be scared, though. You'd already seen probably the scariest thing in your life, kind-of almost died, and been wound up in so much craziness you knew so little about. If only high school had prepared you for researching literal criminals.

"Your 30 minute session is over. You will be logged out shortly."

God damn it.

If only Brooklyn Public Library's computer sessions weren't 30 minutes. You didn't want to log back in anyway, not if someone had booked after you. You could go back home, the library had just been an excuse to get out, really. Not that you'd made a whole new email and signed in as a guest on the computer. Not that you were paranoid.

Picking up your bag and checking your messages one last time you made a beeline for the exit. Well, less of a line and more of a strange obstacle course through the swarm of people. And of course you had to knock into someone. Just your luck.

"Hey, sorry," you mumbled, hands raising just a little in apology. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah..." The person dusted themself off a little with a frown, before looking up to meet your eyes.

Rafael?

"Hey, it's you," he realised, eyes widening as if he'd just gotten lucky.

Out of all places...

"I... gotta go."

"No, no, wait. I need you to do something."

Of course you do.

"I really don't have the time," you whispered back, as he caught up to your advance towards the doors.

"Uh, hey, listen... You talk to Miles, right? Like, he's your friend?"

"Yeah...?" No...? You weren't even sure at this point.

"Uh, look, I need you to tell him something..."

"What, you're in love with him?" you spat, finally looking at him again. "Cause it seems like it. You're always talking about him. Always talking to me about him."

"What?! No the f*ck I'm no—"

A much louder "shhhhhh!" got your attention. The librarian didn't look too pleased. Neither did any one of the people who turned to look at you.

"I'm not gay, man!"

So, the two of you were now out on the street as Rafael defended his sexuality with nothing but exasperated hand gestures.

"I didn't say that."

"Okay, well I'm not. Damn, why are you acting weird for?"

"Your face is red."

"I'm black!"

"That melanin isn't doing anything for you."

"Shut the f*ck up!"

You rolled your eyes, hiding the way the corners of your mouth were starting to lift with a deep exhale. The poor guy was not very discreetly checking his face right now with the back of his hand.

"What, then? What did you wanna say to him so bad?" you asked, instantly making him retract his hand from his cheek.

"Forget it."

"No, tell me. You got us all the way out here for no reason?"

He gave you a look, before promptly looking away, mumbling something under his breath.

"Didn't hear that." That made him groan loudly. It was akin to a petulant child, if not a few octaves deeper.

"I'm... sorry."

Huh?

"You're... sorry?" you repeated, making him let out a huff.

"Look, I..." Rafael met your eyes again, his narrowing uncomfortably. There was something strange in his expression. "My mom's missing. I dunno who to tell. I know I messed up and I... I get it now. I get it. The thing with his dad."

Oh sh*t.

Remorse. That was what you were seeing in his eyes. Or maybe regret. Neither you thought you'd ever see from him.

"Tell him I'm sorry. Or don't. Whatever," Rafael muttered, kicking a bottle cap on the ground until it skittered to a halt by a dog, who found interest in it as its owner tried to tug it along the pavement.

"You can't tell him yourself?" you replied, brows furrowing. As bad as you felt, this was a personal matter. You weren't about to be a parrot for the guy that hadn't grown out of his bullying phase.

"You think he'd listen?"

"It's understandable if he doesn't."

"And what if he doesn't come back?"

"Why..." What? "Why wouldn't he come back?"

"I... dunno. Why can't you just tell him?"

Huh. "Why wouldn't he come back, huh?"

Rafael gives you a sort of reserved look, as if he's contemplating whether or not to lie to your face.

"I heard something about him while I was in that office. He's like... withdrawing from the school."

"He's... what?" Withdrawing from the school? Could he even withdraw that fast? "Why?"

"I dunno, damn! Just... forget it. I don't know why I even asked you man."

Rafael turned to leave, a scowl forming on his face.

"Hey," you called out, looking away before he could meet your eyes. He didn't turn around, though.

"What?"

"...I'm sorry about your mom," you managed, before he could go far enough. "I hope they find her."

"Yeah," he muttered, before throwing his hood over his head.

And now your friend, not-friend, study buddy was gone. The only person you kind of got along with at all outside of just one class. Another person missing. Rafael's mom. Maybe you needed to get out of Brooklyn for college. You certainly wouldn't miss the subway all too much, you thought, crammed in-between people.

"Stand clear of the closing doors, please."

As soon as you got out of the station and into the street, you were met with a familiar face among the people passing by. Instead of the Visions uniform, he was in a jacket too big for him, crinkled sweatpants and purple Jordans.

Miles. Calc-wiz. Mr. Disappearing Act. Withdrawn from the school, now in front of you and definitely already getting on your nerves.

He was looking at you, a hint of surprise in his otherwise smoothed-over features.

"Miles?"

"Yeah. Can we... talk?" His cheek dimpled with the awkward half-smile you'd only seen a couple times, but you were so strangely familiar with. You didn't know whether to freak out at him in front of a crowd of people or head home and hope that he didn't follow you.

"...Sure," is what comes out of your mouth.

Just your luck.

"~Ain't no love—" Skip.

"~Ha, sicker than your average—"

"Poppa twist cabbage off instinct..." Skip.

Miles was getting sicker than average of his uncle's playlist. Maybe working in silence was better.

He took out his earbuds, setting them on his mess of a desk and picking up the screwdriver again. Uncle Aaron was busy, "out of town", as his voicemail said. Probably doing something Miles wasn't supposed to be involved in. He'd be back in a day or two, as always. Never in one place too long.

Even for someone so experienced, he knew this was his uncle's first real "vigilante" gig. Uncle Aaron wasn't getting paid, nor was he working under someone trying to solve a cold case Jeff had been involved in with his colleagues. His dad was no detective, but always seemed to want to help out, and the police were getting desperate with all the recent missing person's cases. There was no real pattern, and sometimes people would be returned just fine. That's what the police were hoping for.

Dr. Stromm had disappeared for about 2 weeks, and returned to his normal work at Oscorp. That could be excused for a vacation off of work, for all anyone knew. Wellston, however, was still missing. Probably dead. Just a couple had turned up dead. It was so unpredictable that they all seemed unrelated, but the kinds of people going missing were all of use — scientists, lawyers, bank tellers. Wellston had been getting his PhD while teaching before he went missing. All people of use to the Chameleon.

Whoever his uncle was working for at the same time as all of this likely had no idea. He was probably working for that person right now, even when they had this case to deal with.

Miles had only been up to this after his dad had passed, and he knew he wasn't as polished as Aaron — not after what happened at Oscorp. Those gauntlets couldn't focus their energy, even if they were more powerful and he could charge shockwaves through the air almost instantaneously, and he had bragged about it a little too much when they'd tested it in the garage.

Now, he had faint lines on his skin from the excess heat, and had been taking them apart and rebuilding them for weeks in his room. His visor needed work too. It was way better in depth, but the resolution sucked. Even then, he was sure he could make something better than what his uncle had. Rigorous training wasn't enough to do this sort of work. He had to do his own thing, even if he was taking up the same schtick. Eventually his uncle's beard would gray and he'd have to be the real Prowler.

He was a good guy, after all. Like his uncle, like his dad.

By deduction, the Prowler was a good guy too. But he wasn't the Prowler today. He was Miles. The Miles that had been shouted at for trying to quit school again. The Miles that was fifteen and spent his days off building crappy gear.

Maybe on a day like this he could spend time with other people like he did in middle school. Go to a fast food place, or go to Micah's house to play video games, or hang around in some parking lot and run when he and his friends accidentally set off a car alarm. The sun was setting outside his window now. It felt like those evenings where he was reluctant to be taken home by his dad, after he was at Micah's playing GTA on Micah's older brother's console, laughing and screaming, Micah's sister shouting at them to shut up from the hallway.

Miles puts the visor down, walking up to his window and pushing it open. The air didn't get any warmer around this time of year, a cold wind brushing past his face as he stuck his head out to look at the city below.

Above him was the half-finished mural. A colourful backdrop of red and blue, and purple. His dad's face without the glasses, hat without the logo, the text outline without the actual text.

"Captain Jeff Morales. Husband, Hero, Father," read the ghost of the text.

His dad wasn't missing. There was no hope of him turning up one day, and that he could leave the mural unfinished and paint it over with something else. There was no hope that he'd wake up one night and instead of finding himself grasping at air it would be his mom shaking him awake to tell him his dad had come home.

His dad was dead. His dad was facing him right now and smiling like he did every morning before he left the house. His dad was painted on a brick wall, missing his glasses.

Miles knew he wasn't smiling for him. He was smiling for the city. He was the face of PDNY, captain for half a day alive and for the rest of eternity until Brooklyn forgot him, deceased. The mural had made him feel better when he hadn't been able to leave his own bedroom and decided to get up and start it with his uncle, but now he felt all sorts of emotions swirling through him. Regret, anger, grief, all of it at the same time — only to stop right at his tear ducts, tightening his throat.

He hadn't cried back then; his mom shared the pain of the both of them, even now. Even when they went to his tombstone, she was the only one that had cried as he'd kept a reassuring hand on her back.

Selfish, were the tears that blurred his vision, not heavy enough to roll down his face.

He sat, staring, eyes stinging yet soothed by the moisture. The sun cast a halo around the building, the mural in shadow and the city behind flooded in red-orange light.

"Husband, Hero, Father."

Was he a hero before he was his father? He had painted that himself. He knew his dad was a good guy. Was he a good guy before he was a good dad?

His thoughts were interrupted with the buzz of his phone in his pocket. There was a message on the notification bar, overtaking the text he'd been yet to reply to from his mom.

Are you the miles talking to me right now 1m ago

It was you.

Cause you're acting weird

And you just read my message without taking out your phone

What the...?

no wtf are u talking abt Read 4:51PM

where ru Read 4:51PM

His fingers hovered above the keys, glancing briefly at the gauntlet at his desk.

With a guy that looks exactly like u

You're the real miles right

He wracked his brain for something, anything as he ran back towards his desk.

6 liters per hour Read 4:53PM

What???

OH

Okay calc genius help me out please?????

He let out a breath between his teeth, shoving his gauntlets in his backpack and throwing on his gear haphazardly.

The Chameleon. Becoming him.

I'm at Marge's on moore st

ok just stay there go into the bathroom Read 4:55PM

don't leave til i text u Read 4:55PM

What are u gonna do??? the restaurant is empty

He's gonna look for me

He was acting so weird if that's not u then it's probably chameleon right

So you did believe him about the Chameleon. Or maybe you were the Chameleon and just being incredibly smart. He couldn't be 100% sure. Not like he ever was. Swooping out of his window, he threw his hoodie down to hang off the fire escape stairs before starting to run up the side of his building, shoes vacuuming him to stand horizontally.

probably Read 4:55PM

ur gonna take him outside in a couple min Read 4:55PM

Why???

just trust me Read 4:55PM

ill be there in 3m Read 4:56PM

The sky was now a shade of blue-purple, the reds and oranges dissolving behind the skyline. It was getting dark, and fast.

Okay

Manoeuvering through the maze of buildings with his shoes keeping him a thousand feet from being heard or seen, Miles headed for Moore Street with the little map in his peripheral vision. When he got there, all that welcomed him was a lone street lamp that had yet to turn on, a couple of closed local grocer's and a dimly-lit diner named "Marge", a discoloured space next to it the shape of an "s". Close enough.

Sifting through the modes on his visor, he settled when he saw the outline of two people. One strangely shaped like him and one strangely shaped like you.

He climbed down a little, dimming the lights on his gear completely as he receded into a small alley. The guy definitely looked like him physically. Tall, handsome, standing outside the bathroom, shifting on his toes...? Creasing my Jordans? Seriously?

Oh, yeah he had you to deal with. And himself, apparently.

leave now Read 4:58PM

Miles had about zero idea how to, but he needed to figure it out in about 30 seconds from now.

K

You made your way out of the bathroom, and he moved to the side of the diner you were closest to from outside to get a better view.

"...Gotta go home..."

"...Lemme walk you..."

As you left the store into the empty street, he could make out the slight twinge of nervousness on your face as you looked around ― probably looking for him and finding nobody.

"Hold on, I gotta text my parents..." You took out your phone, turning yourself a little to obscure the screen.

"Yeah, that's cool." Sounded almost exactly like him. Creepy.

go into that alley on your right and run home Read 5:00PM

Ur kidding

you gotta trust me Read 5:00PM

At that moment, you took one last look at your phone before turning into the alleyway. You were just a couple quick steps into the alley when his doppelganger grabbed yourshoulder.

"What the hell are you doing, Miles?!" you shouted suddenly, trying to pull yourself free, only to be thrown against the wall of the alleyway.

"I'm doing you a favour. You're not going to school anymore," he responded, his tone suddenly flat and nothing like it was a moment ago.

"What are you talking about? I'm just trying to go home."

His doppelganger was now featureless, his face melting away into the blankness Miles still couldn't describe. The panic on your face is visible from yards away. Miles just has to catch him off-guard. Without hurting you. He could do that.

"So you are the Chameleon," you muttered, still trying to pry his hands away as his grip wrinkled your clothes further.

"Ah, so you did figure it out. Excellent." That definitely didn't sound like him anymore. "You were always the most interesting in that class of yours."

"You... You were the one who was at those after-school classes, huh? And at Oscorp. And that... fair." That you were right about. "What the hell is your problem?"

"My problem is that I need a little something from your school, and you seem like the easiest solution."

"Couldn't you do that while you were a teacher? You got that other guy to be arrested in your place. Aren't you done?"

"It looks like you have me all figured out. Except for one small thing."

"What?"

Something glistened by your neck. Sharp. Metal. He had a knife pressed to your throat, the blade just managing to dent your skin.

"You're going to die."

Missing. Sometimes they turned up. Other times they were probably dead. If he didn't figure this out, you were dead already.

"I'm... I kind of figured that too, you know."

"Oh, really? Aren't you something?" There was something like a grin on his face, but it was too misshapen to really tell. "So unaffected. So controlled."

"How do you even... turn into these people? What the hell is wrong with you?"

"Take a guess. An educated guess is always better than nothing." His voice pitched up into Wellston's awkward sing-song, repeating what he used to say in class. Near-perfectly.

"Why are you so sure you won't get caught?"

"That's not an answer, and I can't exactly reveal such things, you know."

"Not even when you're about to kill me?"

"Oh, unfortunately not."

"Go f*ck yourself." That made the man laugh. If he wasn't in this situation right now, Miles might have managed a smile at that.

"Yeah, go f*ck yourself," he muttered, voice being caught half-way into his modulator in a grainy, deep sound.

In an instant, Miles soared above the two of you, foot smashing itself right in the centre of the Chameleon's face, his knife clattering to the floor. As he stumbled back, you got up, taking the opportunity to run, footsteps hard against the pavement.

Suddenly, the Chameleon was stuck between the wall and Miles' knee, steadying himself with his hands against the brick. Miles could make out some kind of morphed look of glee on his face as his clawed hand clamped him to the wall by both sides of his neck. The lips and teeth were starting to form through the flesh, and Miles let the energy build up in the converter as the smile fell into place, cell by cell.

"You don't want to kill me," he stated, simply.

"Pretty sure I do." Miles' claws just scraped at the skin starting to form at his neck. The quiet whirr of his gauntlet starts to become audible.

"You can't kill me. I am everywhere."

If everywhere is right in front of me, I mean...

"I know what you're doing, Dmitri. It ends here."

"I know what you're doing, Prowler."

He finally sees it, what's forming on the man's face. It's him.

"One of my best students, I never would have guessed," he started, grinning wildly, with some sort of overwhemled excitement.

Miles felt his mouth go dry, his face under the mask paralysed as the one staring at him continued to smile.

"The DNA that I retrieved from you is that of... Miles Gonzalo Morales."

It was as if the shockwave forming in his gauntlet slowed with time itself as he came to stare. He was looking at himself. Smiling. Grinning. Crazed. Miles Gonzalo Morales.

"Kill me. I have my assets, and subordinates. They will end you. Your mother, Rio. The hospital she works at. Your uncle, Aaron."

The quiet whirr in his gauntlet faded into silence. He felt his hand retreat, leaving the Chameleon, still posing as Miles, grinning, unblinking, and flat against the wall.

"Oh, you've made a very good choi―"

SLAM!

Metal met with bone, an audible crack following as Miles' clawed fist met the wall, the Chameleon's face smashed between the two.

"You mother... f*cker..." he breathed out, voice choked through the sudden rush of blood, smearing against the wall as he lifted his face from it.

Miles pointed his gauntlet at him again, the whirring renewing itself to a high-pitched scream, light purple expanding between them and tearing through the alleyway like fire.

"Muerto el pollo." (Job done.)

The man's reforming grin was overtaken by the brightness of the blast, energy snapping into one focused point before hurtling through the air, right at the Chameleon.

Miles felt his ears start to ring. His body was lightweight. Airborne.

His back hit something hard, and suddenly the lightness was replaced with an erratic clawing spreading up his arm. The light flickered into sparks that led fire under his sleeve, eating away at his skin. Burning. The blindness faded away, eyes managing to focus. All he could see past the smoke was a figure approaching him, and a hysteric laugh that grew louder and instantaneously changed pitch.

"So confident," is what he could make out through the ringing in his ears that had bled through his head into a sharp, disorienting pain. "I almost thought you had me."

Ripping the burning gauntlet off of himself, he noticed something jammed in the converter as he shook the heat from his arm. Some sort of sabotaging device. He'd had just a few seconds before the burning would've made it past his skin. The Chameleon had planned this.

Looking to his other gauntlet, he noticed the same device, ripping it out before crushing it under his foot. Never twice.

Swallowing back the cough building up in the back of his throat, Miles made a move for the Chameleon, before catching his figure turn left ― running.

Coño. (F*ck.)

Launching himself up, Miles locked onto the man, hurtling through a series of alleyways, fluidly dodging every obstacle in his way as if to waste no time. He could not let him get into a crowd and disappear. This had to end here, even if he had no god damn plan and his uncle was sure to scold him when he got back. He wasn't going to let you or anyone else get killed by this crazy f*ck.

Miles threw himself down into the next alleyway, hearing heavy, fast footsteps, someone approaching in his vision.

Just a little closer.

SLAM!

He threw the Chameleon down onto the ground, noticing he'd already changed appearance.

That face. No, this wasn't the Chameleon.

It was... you. And you were looking right at him. Terrified.

"Please, please let me go," you mumbled, gasping for air in-between words... "I... You're the... Prowler, I― Please― The... That guy's after me and..."

Your head fell against the concrete, an exhausted look in your eyes as you caught your breath.

"Please. I didn't... I didn't do anything. I can keep quiet about you, I haven't told the police anything. About Oscorp. Nothing."

"I know it's you, Chameleon." You would've ran far away by now, he was sure.

"I―I swear I'm not. I'm not him, I don't know how to prove it to you, but... I called my friend for help and... he never came. Please. Please let me go. I don't know where the Chameleon is right now."

Another set of footsteps came towards the both of you.

"I'm right here, Prowler," emerged another voice from the alley.

It was... you?

"Come on. Weren't you looking for me?" the other you continued, half-hidden in shadow. "Come get me."

So the you on the floor... was actually you. And this...

"Please, that's... that's him, you've gotta let me go," the you that was on the ground muttered, exasperated. There was a waver in your voice. In the way your eyes widened looking at him. Almost like confusion.

The Chameleon was right there. Admitting that he was in fact the Chameleon. While he was trying to run away.

"Please," he heard below him, a quiet, desperate whisper in the silence.

You both looked identical. Even though he'd injured the Chameleon, the both of you were unscratched. You both sounded the same too, from what he could decipher. No real way to tell you apart. And his only answer right now felt like a trick.

He kept eyes on the you standing before him, barely making out a face. Something was there, in the way that you looked, the way you stood. Something strange, something he couldn't figure out fast enough to make any decision.

And then, he felt a little pinch. One that suddenly exploded and tore through his flesh, wrangling with every one of his nerves as his body seized. You had lost your scared, desperate expression, your face now distorting along with his vision into that of a smile.

"I understand," a voice started, ringing through his head as if it was everywhere. "You want to help me."

The pain was clawing its way through his body from a point in his leg. He turned his head, noticing the discarded needle beside him. He'd managed to ease his hand just close enough to administer it. You ― no, the Chameleon, lifted himself from the ground, before Miles felt his head spin hard with a kick.

"I admire you, your wit," he called out, letting out a laugh as he started to walk towards you. "Turning against your own savior. Wonderful. Absolutely wonderful."

No, no... There was... there was no way you were working with him. There was no way you...

"You have proven yourself. You'll be better than... than that Garrett fool. I've changed my mind."

Miles rummaged in his utility belt for something, anything. He had no idea what he'd been given, but it was already running through his blood, reaching his brain and poisoning every part of it.

"Your friend over there is going to be unconscious in about half a minute. Why don't you take care of him? I'll be a fool to kill you once you do."

Get up, Miles.

His head throbbed with the sound of your footsteps, each one getting louder and louder. His limbs were weakening. He could barely lift his head.

Get up!

"Dad... Dad? No no no... Get up, get up!"

The gauntlet was slowly slid off of him, now in your hands as his arm fell uselessly onto the ground in front of him.

The gauntlet clipped onto your arm, fingers moving as yours did. He felt the metal claws just scrape his helmet, a faint clink echoing through his skull.

Miles didn't want to look at your face, but he couldn't find it in him to look anywhere else. There was that something from before in your expression that he couldn't quite place, and he still didn't have an answer. It bothered him, for some damn reason. Not the fact that he had his own weapon pointed to his brain as he was losing consciousness. Not the fact that he couldn't move. Not the fact that his last thoughts were about the look on your face and not his mom, or his dad.

Whirrr...

That brightness that the Chameleon had been staring at before was now staring right at him. Overwhelming, blinding, all-encompassing. He felt the faint heat on his skin, as his eyelids grew heavy. Something like warmth in contrast to the cold metal, if just for a second. Something like knowing in your eyes. Something hopeful, saving, loving. Even if just for a second. Even if his brain had made it up to let him succumb.

He wished he could smile, and not be terrified. He wished he could be like his dad, who had smiled.

"Take care of your mom for me, Miles. I ain't gonna be around forever."

And he reached for his helmet. To show you his face, to hope you'd stop once you saw him. He reached, before his arm fell limp beside him once more.

Sorry. I'm so sorry.

"Hey, hello?"

"Hey!"

"Prowler? ...Are you dead?"

God, what did you have to do if he didn't respond...? Breathing, pulse...

"What the..." you heard, before he exploded into a painful-sounding coughing fit, tinged by some kind of voice changer. The Prowler lifted his head, and you could make out az kind of shadow where his eyes were behind the dull, unlit screen. "Huh...?"

"Hey, uh. The... Chameleon..."

Gesturing to the pile on the floor, the Prowler seemed to tense a little at the sight. It was the Chameleon, or... what was left of him. His face charred and caved in by the likes of a certain purple energetic blast. Right, you, had to explain that, the de-powered weapon in your hands.

"Sorry for... I didn't know what I was doing, that was―"

"You killed him?" came out a quiet, modulated voice.

That was...

You killed him. With the Prowler's weapon.

You were defending yourself. You were defending him. That man was a...

Thunk!

The metallic arm hit the ground as it rolled out of your arms, looking into the hollow shadows of the Prowler's eyes.

You didn't know anything about any of these people, and you were deep into their world. It was one that you had never thought you'd see, and now you had nothing to dig yourself out of it. You decided to trick him and when Miles was too late to figure it out you had...

You had killed someone. Turned the blast on him within a split second, watching it sear through his skull in a merciless flurry, stab after stab of burning hot energy wracking more and more screams. Right until the weapon had run out of energy. Until your finger grew numb from the trigger inside the device and the alleyway had gone silent. The man that had haunted your mind for months was unmoving before you, ripped of all features, all life.

Murder. Manslaughter. This man had connections. They'd come after you. After everyone you knew and loved. After Miles.

You should've stayed home.

The ache of adrenaline surged through your heart, your muscles, begging. Begging you to move. To run. To get up.

Get up. Run. Run away. Scream for help. Do something.

You felt the scratch of brick, arms enveloping the rest of you as you backed into the wall.

Hide.

All the breath in your lungs seemed to leave at once as you desperately tried to breathe it back in, hearing the air rush in and out of your mouth over and over. It was loud. So loud. The blast had been so loud. He had screamed so loud―

"Hey."

The hand on your shoulder was warm, free of any metal.

"It's... alright," you heard him say.

How could he say that?

"How can you say that?" Your voice was muffled. Wavering. Pathetic.

Would they believe you? With that stupid, pathetic, voice, whoever it was that found you ― would they believe you?

"How can you say that...?" you repeated, pressing your face further into your knees. The touch on your tensed shoulder felt offensive. Mocking.

"You're gonna be okay."

"How am I gonna be okay?"

"You didn't do anything wrong."

"How do you know that?"

You were looking at him now, breath hitched, eyes wide. You tried to sound frustrated, angry, but all that came out of your throat was a sound that told the Prowler "I am scared" in every language.

The Prowler hadn't killed you. He was comforting you. In any other circumstance, you could've laughed at the thought. To your knowledge, this Prowler hadn't killed anyone, or put everyone he loved in severe danger. Maybe you were worse than him.

"Why won't you answer any of my questions...?" you mumbled hopelessly, burying your face in your hands. You could smell concrete, dust, and ash ― invisible, yet incriminating.

Hiss... Click!

You felt hands wrap around your wrists, carefully pulling yours away from your own face. Just as you looked up, you could see the mask dismantling itself, disappearing behind his head.

What was left was a face. The Prowler's face.

No, this is...

Brown, maybe green-ish eyes. They were a smooth coppery colour under the dim light, bright among the shadows underneath his eyes. A black-red was drying on his skin, under his nose and creeping past his cracked lips. Two braids, coming unfurled at the ends, coming all the way back up to the top of his head. A soft face with harshness painted all over it. An exhausted, pained and worried expression.

"Hey, pana."

The face you had so prayed to see blurred into a watery mess as you threw your arms around him, squeezing your eyes shut against his jacket. His arms followed, settling over yours, one palm circling your back and the other settled between your shoulders.

You didn't think you'd held anyone tighter. You didn't know someone could hold to the point that their arms were shaking around you.

"Miles..."

You felt his head rest beside yours, the contours of his face melding against your shoulder. Warmth was running down your face ― blooming in your chest.

"I've got you."

"Mij— Oh... Oh my!"

You'd scrubbed your eyes hard as you could, and Miles had fixed himself up into a giant hoodie and jeans, but you were almost certain that the woman in front of you was utterly convinced that the both of you had been run over by a subway train. Miles' mom, standing with a vacuum cleaner that contributed nothing to the silence. Her jaw was inching closer to the floor the longer the silence stretched out.

"Uh... hola, mami. This is my friend," Miles offered, not sounding any less like he'd been met face first with the headlights of New York public transportation.

"Hi, Mrs... Morales."

The woman propped the vacuum cleaner against the wall, letting out a quiet sigh. She had beautiful curly hair, and was now wearing the sharp-softness of her son's face in a polite, and concerned smile. You didn't want to turn to check if Miles still had blood on his face.

"Is this a bad time...?" you started. "I can—"

"Oh, no, no, I just... I haven't even made dinner yet, I didn't expect—" The woman lets out another breath, shaking her head. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't be so rude. What are you two... What have you been up to?"

"We just... you know," Miles gestured with his hands, charading less than nothing in the air.

"You know...?" she replied, eyes squinting.

"I uh, already ate. Don't worry about it, Mrs. Morales," you continued, giving her what you hoped looked like a smile on your face. "Miles just wanted to show me something. It'll be quick."

"Uh, yeah. That."

"You're not staying for dinner?" she called out, as Miles dragged you into his room. "I was gonna make pastelón—"

"I'll come help you in a sec, mami."

Miles closed the door to his room, and the two of you shared a look as you heard the long, muffled sigh from outside. With the sound of the vacuum cleaner whirring in the hallway and disappearing into another room, the two of you sat on the edge of the twin-size bed, the frame creaking uncomfortably.

The room wasn't particularly big, crowded with posters and various newspaper clippings — many about the Prowler. There were crates tucked away beside his closet, faces of toy figurines and comic books peeking out of them. A lone screwdriver sat on his desk, a stack of notebooks beside it. The backpack you'd seen him take to school was hanging on the back of his chair, a study guide for "Invisible Man" peeking out of it. All that was on his bedside table other than papers was a frame. A young boy, missing a tooth, on the shoulders of an older man, the two of them beaming through the picture.

"You hurt or anything?" he asked quietly, making you remember that he was next to you. "Like, injured?"

"No, I'm... fine." You took half of a breath before your lungs started to ache, swallowing back the dryness of your throat. Mostly fine. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah. My mom's a nurse, so... I kinda..."

"Oh... Yeah, yeah." Huh.

Mrs. Morales certainly didn't seem to know about her son's... part-time job.

You noticed a set of blueprints on the wall, resembling the clawed arms he had stashed away without you or his mom seeing.

"You made those...? The claw-glove things?"

"They're gauntlets."

It was somewhat like the tone of voice he used when he was explaining a calculus question — not condescending, but somewhat tired and fed-up.

"Right..." Gauntlets. Sure.

The vacuuming stopped, and a few moments later the clinking of cookware could be heard.

"You staying for dinner?"

"Huh...? Um, I don't wanna bother your mom."

"Please...? I'm gonna get it if you go home without eating." Something about that made you laugh, even if it was a half-hearted sound that fizzled out before it could really sound like one.

"She seems nice," you mused.

"She is. She tries."

Something of a smile tugged at his lips as a quick snort of air left him, his eyes now on yours.

"I got a lot of explaining to do, huh?" His smile faded a little as the words left his mouth.

"You do. Maybe... Maybe not now, though."

"Yeah. Not now."

In your peripheral, you could make out his arm inching closer to yours. The tips of his fingers just brushed your knuckles, leaving just a spark of feeling against your skin. His throat bobbed a little as he swallowed, and—

"Miles, ¡ven a cortame estas cebollas! (Come and cut these onions for me!)"

"Oh! Um— Okay!"

The bed squeaked again as he stood up, and you could tell he was biting the inside of his cheek. You closed your hand as the lingering feeling of his touch disappeared.

"...You sure I can stay for dinner?"

"You sure you just asked me that?"

"Alright, alright."

You gave him a little more of a smile, and you could see him fighting to not return it as he looked back at you.

"i'm gonna... go and—"

"Yeah, you do that, Miles."

He handed you his phone, or, a phone.

"You can... play some music, if you want. It's connected to that speaker. Just not too loud, yeah?"

You noticed there was no SIM card in it. He pointed to the little speaker sitting by the window sill, peeking out behind a hung up jacket and a school blazer.

"...Thanks."

The door to his room shut, and the murmured voices of Miles and his mom faded as you selected a song. You recognised some of them, ones you'd heard people sing along to on the street or in the cafeteria of your school. This one stood out, though.

It started slow, and the man's voice was rich, full of life and emotion. It was strangely melancholic against the uplifting instrumentals.

"~Ain't no love, in the heart of the city..."

You stood up, walking to the window to get a better listen of it. Lifting up the blinds, your eyes caught something in the darkness. A giant painting of Jefferson Morales. Miles' dad. It was half-finished, but his smile was there.

You couldn't help but think how he looked so much like Miles.

"~Ain't no love, cause you ain't around..."

An almost inaudible rustle caught your attention as you tuned to look at the jacket you had touched. Something had fallen out of its pocket while you were trying to move the speaker. It was a piece of paper, something written on it.

Reaching down, you moved to put it back in the pocket, before noticing what was peeking out of it.

Unfolding just the edge of it, you recognised the title of a Spanish lesson you had a while ago, back when Rafael had been bothering you endlessly. Opening it up entirely, you found what he'd been making fun of Miles for.

There were a series of drawings around scrawled Spanish vocabulary and messy grammar rules. One was of your teacher, Mrs. Hernández, turned away, writing on the board. The other was of the picture of the landmark in the article you had been given, "Arco de"-something. The colour of the building was done in yellow highlighter, but looked rather technical and accurate nonetheless.

The one on the back made you almost drop the paper.

It was you, with such a likeness. Some lines had been erased and re-drawn around your mouth, as if he'd been trying to decide on an expression. Within the creases of the paper you were holding right now, though, you found yourself smiling — just slightly, like if you'd been laughing at something with the rest of your class. Your head was tilted slightly downwards. The drawing version of you was just a little cuter than you were sure you looked like, Miles' stylisation making your eyes shine a little and your lips curve just the right way.

By the time your stomach had stopped fluttering, the song was coming to a close. You quickly re-crumpled the paper and carefully put it back into the jacket, walking over to sit on his bed again.

"~Ain't no love, in the heart of this town..."

"...You never come back this late, mijo..."

"...We just bumped into each other and started talking. You know, like how at the store..."

"...Your tías are different, Miles..."

He really does have a lot to explain, you thought to yourself, unable to stop the corners of your mouth from lifting up, just slightly.

Your questions would just have to wait until after dinner.

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thank you for reading! epilogue hopefully coming soon 👍 reblogs + replies are appreciated 💗 find the rest of my writing in my atsv masterlist here!

[rea-grimm]

Weapon Belphie

"A little higher," advised the voice from the rifle. So you aimed above the target. You were shooting from an enormous distance, lying on a hill, aiming at the forest in front of you. 

You knew that if you were shooting from that distance, you had to take several factors into account at once. Wind, height, distance and many other things. Fortunately, you knew your weapon would help you. 

"Are you really sure about this?" You asked as you finally saw the target heading down the path to the ready load. 

"I am. Don't worry. He deserves it for leaving me to rot locked in the attic," the weapon replied. 

You found Belphie by pure chance, to be honest. Actually, you weren't even looking for the weapon. You were sure you'd find it someday, or that he'd find you. 

You were traveling to the next town when you were caught in a giant storm. There was nothing, and you thought you were lucky to stumble upon an old and abandoned house. 

You were a little scared, but eventually found that there was no one there except spiders, a swallow's nest, and the occasional stray animal.

It wasn't until later that you actually found out it was the home of seven demonic weapons. Weapons that were several times more powerful than ordinary weapons. However, these seven weapons haven't lived here for a long time. 

As the weather outside was still bad, you decided to explore the house. First you explored the ground floor, and then you decided on the basement, where you found something to eat. Of course, you were slightly scared, but you trusted your abilities to defend yourself and it paid off in the end. 

After this, you explored the other floors, eventually finding the attic, which was accessed by a half-decayed wooden door. To your surprise, the attic was the only room that was locked.

This made you all the more curious to see what was behind the door. It occurred to you that there might be some treasure, valuables or even a weapon. You didn't have much patience to pick the lock, so you decided instead to break down the wooden door, which was already mostly rotten. That way you had no problem with it. 

There were lots of carpets and cushions in the attic, and it was more like a living room. But there was nothing much else, except maybe a few chests. 

One of them had a sniper rifle leaning against it. It was strange. It was the only weapon in the whole big house. You originally wanted to just walk over, but curiosity got the better of you. After all, you only had the mark of a firearm on your hand and something inside urged you to pick up the rifle. At that moment, you felt like you'd never felt before. That's when the mark on your wrist changed. 

"Now!" Belphie's voice echoed, and at that exact moment you fired. The bullet hit its target precisely, hitting the balloon bomb, which exploded, its contents scattering over the figure passing below. 

Belphie turned into a human as soon as you shot it, laughing with amusement until he was clutching his stomach. You hadn't seen him laugh like that in a long time. 

"We're running away," he said after a while, when he finally finished laughing. He took your hand and together you began to run away from the exploded bomb. 

You ran until you got to your safer hiding place, which was carefully hidden and which you had acquired just for this occasion. 

"Was that really necessary?" You asked Belphie as you lay back against the pillows with his head in your lap. 

You kept replaying in your head what you had done today. You didn't see much point in it. Bursting a stink bomb with paint over someone's head... Let's just say you were never much for that kind of prank. 

"What do you mean? He deserved it and more. For cursing me and hiding me in the dusty attic," he said, his eyes darkening. At least now it made sense to you and you could justify it and forgive your weapon. Besides, it was true that when you'd first found out, you'd been dying to take revenge on his brother yourself.

Obey me! Masterlist

[matthewswifeyx]

Welcome home <3

Baby Conner was ready to come home. The doctor gave us the all clear when all the baby examinations were all okay. I still didn't really have enough strength and energy to walk out of the hospital by my own yet, so I was pushed on a wheelchair and Matt was carrying the baby in his carseat. In my condition I still found Matt the most attractive person ever, even doing the bare minimum by carrying our baby out of the hospital. He was effortlessly very sexy. He wore a backwards hat that did not help my thoughts. I should not be thinking these things after just giving birth but I couldn't help myself.

Anyway we reached the car and said our goodbyes to the midwife that has helped us through this whole process. I went over the backseat to help Matt buckle up our newborn. It took us a while to figure it out but we got there in the end. I went to go sit down in the passenger seat and Matt followed me to my side.

"Matt what are you doing?" I laughed. he reached for the seatbelt and buckled me up as well.

"Got to take care of both of my babies." I blushed.

The car journey back home was lovely and peaceful. The baby stayed asleep most of the ride, with a few babbles and coos here and there. Me and Matt found it adorable, I could get used to that. When we arrived Matt helped me out of the car and I went around to the back to help him with the baby.

Matt held the carseat in one hand and my palm in his other. We walked to the front door all together. Matt unlocked the door and we walked inside. The smell of fresh candles filled my nostrils. There was banners and balloons everywhere. Then we spotted Nick and Chris.

"Welcome home guys!" Nick said.

"Thank you so much guys! This is lovely!"

"It's the least we could do. You gave us a-. What is it?"

"A boy." Matt clarified.

"Well, you gave a nephew to spoil and cherish." Chris smiled.

"That's sweet Chris."

"And now I found out we are having a nephew. Matt, Nick pay up!" Chris announced excitedly.

"You guys seriously had a bet on what the gender was?" I wasn't surprised to be honest.

Me and Matt settled nicely in our home, quietly chatting with Nick and Chris, we didn't want to disturb the baby. Me and Matt could tell that they were both desperate for a hold. We told them to give Conner a tiny 10 minute nap then it would be cuddle time.

"This nap feels like forever."

"I think he has had enough beauty rest." Matt announced and went to take him out of his carseat.

"I call on holding him first!"

"You motherfucker."

"Hey! Watch ya language around the baby."

"Oh look at Matt getting all protective!" Nick held his hands up.

"I don't know what has gotten into him over these couple of hours." I chuckled.

Matt lowered Conner into Chris' arms and Chris was frozen in complete awe. Who knew that Chris had a soft spot for babies. Everyone was fascinated with Chris reaction, but we didn't expect him to cry. Small sniffles escaped Chris' mouth.

"Chris man it's okay to cry."

"I know. It's just so amazing and how this baby is going to be so loved."

Chris kept the baby in his arms for a few more minutes until Nick grew very impatient.

"Come on now Chris you're pushing your luck. My nephew wants to meet his favourite uncle."

"Fuck you." Matt shot a stern look at Chris. Which cause Chris to giggle a little bit.

"Calm down daddy." Which made Matt break his act and fall into a fit of giggles. Chris gave Conner over to Nick, at first Chris forgot to support the baby's head while passing him over to Nick. That made me and Matt panic a little.

"Dude be careful, it's not Trevor."

"Sorry."

Conner was nicely settled in Nick's arms and Nick rocked him slowly.

"Hi Conner, I'm Uncle Nick we are going to have so much fun together with Uncle Chris and Uncle Nathan. You are so loved and we are going to spoil you rotten! Feel free to come over and bitch about your parents anytime. I get it, they can be annoying. And hey, we could be quite similar. I mean the oldest, if so you would already be the best sibling." Nick lowered his head and gave Conner a quick kiss on his forehead.

"That was super sweet Nick."

"Especially coming from you."

"Hey, this is a 'once in a blue moon' event so appreciate it!" Nick joked. "Have you told the fans yet?"

"Not yet, they are the least of my worries at this point."

"Are you going to tell them?"

"Of course we will. But just not now, we want to settle before we say anything." Nick and Chris nodded in agreement.

"I guess we should get going and let the parents settle in!"

We said our goodbye's to Chris and Nick and saw them leave. When they left, me and Matt went back into the living room. Conner had woken up from another small nap.

"Hey buddy." Matt greeted. Matt picked up Conner from his carseat and cradled him. "Should we give him a tour of the house?"

"Of course."

Matt went back to the front door and made sure that Conner stayed awake for this live representation.

"Okay buddy, this is our entrance where we take off our shoes and then we go through the the living room. This is where me and you can make forts, play games and watch movies. No girls aloud except for Mommy." I laughed at that comment. "Then in this tiny room here is were we can play with your awesome toys and we can have teddy bear picnics and play fight." Matt out of the playroom to the kitchen. "This is the kitchen, where Mommy makes the best delicious meals, I would prefer her cooking over a restaurant's anyday! This could also be where we can flip pancakes and celebrate your birthday's!"

Matt's ideas were so creative and how he could come up with scenarios on the spot and bring them to life immediately. It was like he had rehearsed this.

"Then if we look behind us, there is our dinner table! Where we can have great family dinners and maybe even food fights?" Matt looked over to me on that last comment.

"As long as you clean up." I laugh.

"Then we make a trip upstairs to me and Mommy's bedroom. This can be a space to snuggle with us before bed or creep into our bed if you had a nightmare. It will always be an open space for you. Just don't try and come in when the door is locked, or if it's Valentines day." He winked at me, kissed Conner's head and moved onto the next room. "Now this is your nursery, Mommy has spent a lot of time designing this for you so we hope you like it! This rocking chair is where Mommy can sit here and read you stories and so can I! We can also sing you lullabies if you have trouble falling asleep. Now this is our bathroom where you can have relaxing baths and play with your toys and have some fun water time! Then this last room is empty for maybe a future brother or sister. Or it could be your room if you would like it?"

Conner was wide awake taking in any detail Matt had made note of, like Conner could understand him. Conner's bright blue eyes were wide and he kicked his legs in excitement.

"Welcome home buddy, we love you so much and we know and you know it!"

Hey guys I hope you really enjoyed this fanfic! If you have any suggestions of requests send me a message and I will try and get back to you asap! <3

[riswippiesx]

Fallen God! Gojo Satoru X Fem! Reader part: one

| Part two

Thinking about fallen god Gojo, who had been living at a small village for a hundred years. People, who once worshiped him, now didn't even go near to his little hut. He lived by himself. When he went out, everyone used to go back inside their respective huts. The sheer loneliness made him distant and arrogant. His grumpy face scared people ever more. It was continuing untill oneday he met you. Your family had to change village because of some allegations about thievery. Your family was poor and helpless. To at least save your life, your parents had to change villages and thus you ended up reaching to the very village Gojo lived.

You didn't know much about the village stuff. You were twenty and full of energy. You had to explore and then you found gojo. His gorgeous blue eyes took a scrutiny of you from head to toe before approaching you with a grumpy expression. Unlike the locals, you didn't flinch a bit and stood stright infront of him and greeted him with a smile. This surprised Gojo, a lot.

From once or twice, it turned into daily meet ups between you two. Your bubbly personality brought peace and glory in his damp life. He smiled and talked with you. Everything was going well. You found yourself drowning in those blue eyes and he saw his soul intertwining with yours. It didn't took very long untill the friendship turned into something more. From friendly gestures to little blushes, you turned twenty five. Your parents wanted you to get married but knowing your past allegations, local men never accepted you. It wasn't like you want to be accepted either. You had already offered your soul to your fallen god.

It could have gone this way but life is a curse. Some unknown illness started to spread across the world, infecting almost everyone. Your village wasn't an exception. Your parents died. Soon the curse of this illness fell upon your life, blowing out all the candles you lit along with Gojo, all these years. The illness being dangerously contagious, no was was there to held the funeral for the dead ones. Bodies were thrown here and there, some, who were living alone, stayed inside, waiting to be rotten.

When Gojo found your body at a street side, laying lifelessly, his existence shattered infront of his eyes. He ran to you, picked you up. He was so powerless to rescue you. He couldn't. His blessing was often said to be turned into curses. Even for you, it turned into a curse, snatching you away from him, forever or so he thought.

Then the civilization progressed, people strated to use better technologies and started to live modern lives. Gojo had to change himself according to the era. He moved to a country side, lived in a cheap apartment, wore modern cloths, worked as a janitor for small offices, enough to handle his own little expenses. Everything changed but you stayed still in his heart. Never for once, he could forget you.

The god of fate was probably feeling a bit amusing, so he made Gojo meet a girl, who looked exactly like the girl he once adored and loved. When his eyes fell on the girl, buying some candies with a smile, he couldn't even trust his reliable eyes. You? It was you? It was really you?

He was quick to run to your direction. "Y/n...?" was all he could mutter which made you turn as you heard your name. "Yes?" you gestured him with a smile which was very known to him. It was enough to make his knees went weak. He kneeled infront of you. Tears streamed down his cheeks as he hold your hands with his. Your hands were as warm as he could remember. Your hands always warmed up his cold hands. "It is really you..." he mumbled.

Confusion was consuming you. You couldn't recognise the mysteriously gorgeous man infront of you. He hugged you, cried on your shoulder, your heart ached for some unknown reason. You let him untill he tried to kiss you. You felt uncomfortable and slapped him. Then pushed him away.

"Go away creep!" You started to walk away in annoyance. He would have followed you if the people of the street didn't stop him, suspecting him as a creep, trying to harrass girl. Did you come back for him?

No. You came back to live a better life. You were reincarnated. By fate, you had the same name. Gojo could clearly remember how the previous conclusion was. He couldn't let the history repeat itself. He would walk away. His blessing, rather his curse won't affect you for the second time. He missed your voice, he missed your sweet smile. But for his happiness, he couldn't push you further to your misfortune.

He started as you walked away with a disgusted face. Your hairs swayed with the air. His eyes softened, he was adoring you. He couldn't look away untill your silhouette blended with the further scenary.

"I love you...my love"

Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♡

(By the way, requests are open, you can send me requests, just check the pinned post on my profile to know which fandoms I will write for <3)

[shortstrawberry]

Yandere headcannons for the resident lover routes I've finished till now

1. Bela

Her heart laid numb beneath her chest for God knows how long. But it was long enough that the minute she got it back, her feelings for you just steamrolled into obsession.

And it's not like she didn't care about you at all when her heart was locked away. She still took care of you when you were sick, and tried to protect you from Mother Miranda's schemes. But she did it hiding behind her uppity attitude and snarky comments on your work ethic.

Now? You are her savior, her kitten who needs to be spoiled rotten. You never realised how flithy rich Bela was until she started to splurge her family fortunate on you. Dresses, scenic places, scents, books, you name it. You name it, and Bela will give you the world.

It is not all sunshine and spoiling though. Bela has always been notoriously control freakish by nature. And now it has quadrapled. You don't answer her text within 30 seconds? Expect to face the consequences. Namely, tied to her bed and being ravaged until you forget your own name, and remember only hers.

And God have mercy on anyone who tries to flirt with you. Cassandra tried, and Bela had her next play blocked. Bela even used her presidential powers to have you move in her dorms. On bright side, at least you get breakfast in bed now.

Overall, life with Bela is as intense as her beating heart. She keeps you under a kind, but tight leash.

2. Cassandra

It's no secret that Cassandra's first and only love was theatre. She would sacrifice anything and anyone (*cough*) for the sake of her acting career. Well, that is until she fell head over heels for you. Now she would do anything for you.

Cassandra is like a sweet black hole that keeps asking for more. She has always thrived on fawning and praises, and now she needs your exclusive attention, only on her.

Expect her to take you out on romantic dates. Stargazing, Shakespeare plays, candlelit dinners. Anything that would make you smile and be happy. Cassandra loves to be the only reason behind your smile.

You can also expect Cassandra to be needy for attention and touch. You are sitting just few inches away? She will immediately pull you over on her lap. You can't go to her dorm because of college work? She will kidnap you and bring you to here, even if only to watch you work.

Cassandra considers herself no 1 so you better treat her like it. If you ever even gave a shred of praise to anyone else, Cassandra will give you a demented smile and let you know that you'd be sleeping gagged up in her arms for the night.

3. Donna (my love)

Donna is the sweetest person you've ever known. She would spoil you with even the tiniest of things. A gentle touch on your shoulder, a kiss to your forehead every 10 minutes. Making sure you're hydrated at all times. Bringing you ginseng and honey tea. Your well being is the top priority for Donna.

Donna is also a keenly sensitive woman. You ever slightly raise your voice or ignore her even more a minute? She'll burst into tears. And heaven forbid if you try to leave her even if just to go back to your dorm for lunch. She would look at you with teary eyes and insist you stay and have lunch with her instead.

It's not all nurturing and codependence though. Donna has a possessive streak that runs a mile wide. Heck, scratch that, it is at least 10 miles wild. That one time a customer was flirting with you? Let's just say the hemlock in his bouquet was a complete accident. Cassandra is lucky she is Donna's niece. The worst thing Donna has done against her is to slip needle leaves inside her bouquet.

Donna has been trying to come up with ways to make you stay longer and longer with her. From increasing your working hours to calling you home for "work", she will do everything except just ask you to move in with her. She is deathly afraid of rejection and would rather use her employer authority on you to keep you close.

Still, it's not remiss to say that Donna for all her softness likes to hold power over you. Being both your girlfriend and employer has a lot of scope of manipulation, and Donna is making more and more use of it. You remain blissfully unaware, too lost in her loving kisses and embraces.

[ded-lime]

what i think on the whole making vessels thing the pale king did

first of all this is not about excusing pk, however the 'me exploding people who say pk is an asshole and throws kids in a pit with my mind' is very true, aside from the fact that it's literally not what happened, pk's character is all about a guy who was in a desperate situation without a good solution and saying that he's bad for what he did is missing the point. just like the colour scheme of his palace bro is morally grey. there are things that i believe made his plan sound not as bad as it is before it's implementation, and some of my interpretation seems to differ to how it is more commonly seen (that i know of at least).

so what was the plan? place eggs in he abyss and let the void animate their shells and voilà got some vessels.

why have the void? well one reason is obvious - it's a natural enemy to the radiance of sorts, an opposite of light. another one is the supposed belief that a creature of void does not feel or think. also yes the idea is that 100% of them are empty, that's the foundation it is on. i believe that he has done some experimentation before making this plan(and possibly before the infection): he's the type to build and reasonably coming up with that shit requires familiarity with the void. so assuming that they would not feel pain or think could come from that, also not that insane for a god who gave bugs minds of their own to think that with walking examples of void constructs. so godly resilience and empty head, can't feel the pain he has to put it through and strong enough to contain another god.

why so many of them? the reasoning for that is the same as why any creature has many kids: most of them not surviving for long. not just the climb, but just not even being born (which i think most of them just didn't) or dying right after (instability such as turning to liquid or crumbling shell).

the climb so here's a thing i thought since playing the game years ago. the abyss memory is a dream and not quite literal. you hit an egg with a dream nail, every time you've done that you go to a dream, i don't see why this is different besides it looking differently. the real part being pk getting pv and fucking off. and climbing up in general i guess but you know that. i don't think the ghost was literally hanging on that ledge and literally falling off after some screenshake. it's a representation of ghost and/or every other vessel getting left behind and pv leaving. and getting charm about uniting the void right after plays more into it.

the climb in itself could be a way to see which ones are stable enough, could also be a culture thing as rotten eggs all around hallownest may suggest that they are a bit more like actual animals in regard to offspring. (don't forget that this is not human society we are talking about.)

the main fucked-up-and-feeling-guilty-about thing in this whole ordeal is letting the void consume thousands of your yet unborn children inside out and subsequently animating them with it or let radiance kill everyone and picking the first one. which is you know, sucks and is pretty fucked up and he did indeed feel guilty about it. well that and then the whole hollow knight ordeal later but that's pretty straightforward. does he realise that they are not empty? like yeah probably suspected it at the very least, but that's when you can't just drop everything you've done up to this point to save everyone. only thing that does is add more guilt and drama.

the things done and decisions made were not to be cruel or evil or whatever, we don't see what this place was like before the infection and for all we know he saw the future and still thought this was the best option. how fucked up would that be huh

[bluesest]

A Wedding

Damian was a young adult of 27 years old and one of the most important moments of his life had arrived: his wedding with Melissa, she was the same age and they had been in a relationship for at least 9 years. Without any difficulty and with a lot of love in between, they decided to take the next big step in anyone's life, which is to marry the love of their life.

As usual, the night before a wedding a bachelor party is held for both people, in the case of Damian, he along with his friends and his father went to a hot wing restaurant where, in addition to filling up with kilos of wings full of sauce, they also got drunk until dawn enjoying the comforts and activities that Damian had to say goodbye to when he got engaged.

Frank was a 48-year-old man, tall, bearded, with big arms and a brewer's gut, he always has a positive mind and is stern when the moment requires it, he was the one who gave the idea of going to eat hot wings since it is the food that he and his son enjoyed throughout their lives and it would be a great tribute to the maturity of his son who eventually became a man.

At 2:00 AM they arrived home, both dizzy and tired, Frank wanted to stay a while longer at the party, but Damian refused, after all he had to wake up early tomorrow so that everything would be perfect.

Frank fell directly to the sofa, his body was already weak due to his age, while Damian was walking directly to the guest room, a couple of years ago he stopped living with his parents and moved in with his partner.

Before reaching the room, a strange sound invaded the small room: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*, it was Damian's annoying stomach, so many wings and beer didn't sit very well with him, he turned around to check if his father was still awake, and apparently not, he closed his eyes and... *PPPPFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRR*

He gave a groan of satisfaction and a hoarse voice interrupted him: "That was a good one," it was his father who was laughing with the little strength he had left.

Damian: "Dad!"

Frank: "What's the problem?"

Damian: "It's just that..."

Frank: "Don't be embarrassed about that son, my daughter-in-law must get used to the smell of a real man like me" *PFFFFFFTTTTTT*

Damian: "Whatever... *GRRRRRRR* I hope I don't have problems with this tomorrow..."

The Next Morning:

*RIIIIIIINGGGGG* *RIIIIIIINGGGGG*

Damian woke up to the noise of the alarm, with his eyes half-closed he saw what his downfall was: "It's the... 1:00 PM!?", our fiancé set the wrong alarm, apparently, getting drunk a day before your wedding was not a good idea.

He jumped out of bed and suddenly his stomach took a hard hit: *GRRRRRRRRRRRRR*, he lowered his head a little, held his stomach with his right hand and expelled a rotten fart: *PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *TRTRTRTRTRTR*

There was hell inside Damian's intestine, but without much time to think about it he took off his clothes and started running naked around the house looking for his tuxedo. While all this was going on, Damián found his father still asleep on the sofa, alarmed and knowing his father he began to shake him again and again until the forty-year-old woke up from his long sleep.

Frank: "What *YAWN* happens?"

Damian: "IT'S GETTING LATE! THERE ARE 2 HOURS LEFT AND WE ARE NOT READY!"

Frank: "WE FELL ASLEEP!?"

Like his son, Frank got up and started running to his room shared with his spouse, who apparently had already left for the event without even telling her spouse or son.

As Frank ran, a flurry of farts came out of his big ass: *PFFFFFFTTTTTTT* *PPPPPPPPFFFFTTTTTTTT* *PRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

He stopped for a few moments and held his stomach with both hands, turned to his son and said: "Do you think there is time to go to the bathroom?" to which he replied: "What part of the fact that there is no time you didn't understand!?", resigned, he continued with the search for his elegant clothes.

Almost an hour had passed and our boys were already ready to arrive at the wedding, Frank offered to drive to prevent his son from getting more stressed than he already was, he tried to talk to him, but he was curt, but the reason for this was not because he was angry, but because of a growing pain in his stomach.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Are you okay son?"

Damian: "My stomach hurts a little..."

Frank: "If you want, we can stop in the bathroom of a gas station"

Damian: "Don't worry, I'm fine"

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Another fart was approaching, but he didn't want to fart in front of his father, he tried to lower the window without success.

Frank: "Don't even try, the windows have not worked for a week now"

Damian: "But I'm hot! ughhh"

*GRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFFFFFFTTTT*

The silence was destroyed by an accidental thunderous fart by Damian, he was embarrassed but his father began to laugh.

Damian: "Shut up..."

Frank: "HAHAHAHA that's why you wanted to lower the window, right?"

Damian: "..."

Frank: "Oh come on, admit it was fun"

Damian: "... Well yes, it was fun I guess haha"

Frank: "It's good that we have the same problem...*PRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PFTTFTTFTFFFFFFFFFF*"

Damian hit his father while they were both laughing, what was previously an awkward situation, became another father and son experience.

Damian: "This car has a hellish smell HAHAHAHA"

Frank: "Of course he does! The smell is something characteristic of the Johnsons"

Damian: "It reminds me of the time I was farting all day while I was out with my friends, they always complained and I just laughed HAHAHAHAHA"

Frank: "See? It wasn't so bad, son."

Damian: "Although I feel that something else wants to come out..."

Frank: "Same thing, I think so much junk food hurt us both... Do you want me to stop and let's find a bathroom?"

Damian: "Of course not! We are already late"

Frank: "But-"

Damian: "In addition, where the wedding will take place there is a public bathroom, we can go there when all this is over"

After 30 minutes of farting in the car, they finally arrived at the wedding just 30 minutes before it started, Damian went to prepare to receive his future spouse while his father is scolded by his.

Damian went to a small room where his friends were waiting for him to greet him and give him support in this important moment, he was in front of a mirror trying to fix the ruined tie that he untied on the trip.

That's when he saw his own pale face and with small drops of sweat a sign of his discomfort, he thought: "Maybe going to the bathroom is a good idea..." He approached the door of the small bathroom that was in that room when one of his friends stopped him.

Damian feigning nonchalance asked if something was wrong, to which his friend replied: "Hey! there are only 10 minutes left, you must wait for your wife at the altar", Damian turned to his watch and indeed it was not a joke in bad taste, he returned to the mirror, fixed his hairstyle and went straight to the altar.

Meanwhile, his father didn't seem to enjoy the wait, inside his stomach there was a raging storm of gases and lava wanting to come out, he thought: "I don't think Damian will be upset if I miss the first minutes of his wedding..." he got up from his seat when his spouse and Damian's mother held his arm saying not to be rude and that he shouldn't get up from his seat at a time like that.

Frank: "Honey, I know this is important, but I need to go to the bathroom right now."

Again his request was denied and he was forced to wait until the bride and groom's kiss to be able to get up.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

A thunderous stomach roar made Frank lose his patience, he crossed his legs tightly to prevent the smell he was about to release from spreading among the guests.

*PFFFFTTTT* *SQSHHHH*

It was a bad idea... Frank felt how that terrible fart turned into liquid, the lava began to stain his buttocks and his special cloth pants, he couldn't take it anymore, he decided to get up, but...

Finally, the wedding had begun, Damian was standing at the altar watching as the love of his life with a wide smile went towards him to be together, these thoughts are increasingly interrupted by the terrible stomach pain and the gurgling that did not leave him in peace since the morning.

Finally she arrived and the priest began the wedding.

As the priest spoke, Frank searched for a solution to his problem, "How the was I going to go to the bathroom now? Where was I going to get extra inner break?", the smell was becoming more and more noticeable and reached his nose, "Ufff, I really have to go to the bathroom to release this shit"

He discreetly began to fan his butt to prevent the smell from concentrating while applying pressure to the chair in order to prevent the smell from leaving his butt with the price to pay that it muddied his buttocks and pants more.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

His stomach asked to release pressure again, in fear he let out another fart carefully: *PFFFFFTTTTTT*

It was a short one for what Frank was used to, but he couldn't afford to have his pants turned into an adult diaper completely filled with sulfuric acid.

His son was not doing any better, as soon as the priest was halfway through his speech, he was sweating more and more and unlike his father he could not even release a fart since the smell would be noticed immediately, so every time someone tried to leave he squeezed his buttocks and forced the putrid air to return through the large intestine, a practice that would become expensive later.

Priest: "They can say their wedding vows"

There was some good and something bad, the good thing is that it meant that the main event was close to ending, the bad thing was that his voice was shaky from the efforts he was making not to his pants, like the future spouse, he had to start first.

His vow was not really long, he managed to materialize his feelings in words being part of a long relationship, he made a great effort to stop stuttering and sweating, but they were simply in vain.

After an embarrassing moment and a confused look from his spouse, it was her turn to say her vows, and although it was inopportune to think about it, he just wanted it to be over soon and for his spouse not to talk too much.

After another 10 agonizing minutes, the priest finally said the magic words: "He can kiss the bride."

Damian could not believe that just at the most important moment of his life he had an attack of diarrhea, but simply this cruel moment of life would come to an end when the lips of the bride and groom finally crossed.

It was a beautiful moment for both of them and caused Damian to forget for a few seconds the fact that he had to shit, but it was that calm that caused another stomach attack:

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Both moved their heads aside while the audience applauded, the party would continue for a couple of more hours, so before receiving the congratulations of the guests, he excused himself to his now spouse and surreptitiously moved through the audience to reach the bathroom being interrupted several times by his relatives.

Frank saw his son noticeably nervous and uncomfortable trying to make his way through the audience, he got up from his seat with the excuse that he was going to congratulate his son.

When he got up from his seat he felt like a small avalanche of thick shit slipped from his butt and was slowly heading to his legs, Frank had to be fast with his movement since in a few minutes his shit would reach his legs staining his pants until it reached his beautiful black shoes, he just couldn't afford it.

He jogged to pretend that he was not running, he saw his son in the distance entering the bathroom not at all far from the wedding, he was even more alarmed when small wet farts came out of his butt like gusts *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR* *PRRR*, apparently the exercise relaxed his stomach even more.

He arrived at the bathroom in time to see how his son was on a loose leash about to enter the last cubicle, father and son exchanged looks a little embarrassed...

*PFFFFFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFT*

A violent fart came out of Damian's butt reminding him that he came to the bathroom for a reason, he held his stomach, forcefully opened the cubicle door and closed it, Frank did the same in a slightly calmer way even though he could feel how his shit was reaching his knee.

Both butts touched the porcelain at the same time, but there were no farts in between, Damian despite having passed with his father farting in the car was quite embarrassed, he wanted his father to get out of there.

*PFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTT* *PRRRRR* *SQHQSHQSSQHHHHHHHSHSHHH*

Frank began by expelling what fucked him up throughout the day, a gurgling sound could be heard throughout the bathroom while he continued to shit.

*QSHQSHQSHSQHSSSQHSSSQHHHSHS* *PFFFTFTFTTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRRRRR* *SHQHSQHHSQSHQQSHQSHSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQSQ* *PFFFTTT*

"Ahhh finally..." Frank was able to catch his breath and refresh his mind, although there was still cargo to be dropped... *GRRRRRRRRRR* another gurgle appeared from the neighboring cubicle, Frank could remember that he was not alone.

Damian is writhing in pain, in that position his stomach was more relaxed and therefore more sore and tired from the effort it is taking him to keep all the shit in place until his father leaves the place.

"Why is this happening to me?" he said to himself, for him it was unfair, he had a whole life to spend an embarrassing moment like this, but it should just be at his wedding with his father.

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Is everything fine in there?"

Damian: "Yes dad..."

*SHHHHHHHHHH* *PRRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFTTFTFTF* *TRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTRTR* *PSSSSHHHHHRRRTRTRTRTRTRT* *SQHSSHSQQQPR*

Frank: "ughh how good it feels to release everything..."

*GRRRRRRRRRRR*

Frank: "Son, it's obvious that you need to free yourself too, why don't you?"

Damian: "And that's what I do!" *GRRRRRRR*

Frank: "I was expecting something louder than those gurgling sounds you have..."

Damian: "Just not..."

Frank: "oh come on, we've spent a lot of time together, it's a natural thing"

Damian: "I..."

Frank: "Everybody's waiting for us out there, and I wouldn't want them to come in here..."

*GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR*

Damian: "ugghhhhhh"

*GRRRRRRR* *PFFFFTTTTT* *SQGSQGSSHHHH*

Frank: "Well done, let me teach you"

*PRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *QHSHQSHSQHQSSSHHHHHHHHH* *TRRTRTRTR* *TRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PFTFTFTFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTT* *PLOP*

Damian: "Hahahahaha oh come on"

*PRRRR* *HQSHQSHQSHSHQSHQSHSQSHSQHQSQHQS* *BLLLRRRRRRRRR* *PFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFTT* *TRTRTRTRTR* *SSSSSHHHHHHHHHH*

Frank: "I feel like the wings are forcing me to open my butt even wider"

*SSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSHHHH* *PRPRPRPRPRPRPRPR* *PFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTFTF* *PFFFFFTTTTTTT* *TRUM* *CRUSHSHSHSHSHSHSHSH* *PFFFFTTTTT*

Damian: "Those beers are charging me very dearly"

*PFFFFFTTTTT* *PLOP* *PLOP* *PLOP* *TTTTRRRTTTTTTTTTTTTTTRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR* *SQHSQHSHSQSHHHHHHHHH* *FFFFFFFFFFFFFFTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT*

Frank: "And with taxes"

*PLOP* *SQSHHHHHHHHSQHHHHHHHHSHHHHHQQQHSHSSH* *TRTRTRTRTPRRRRRRRRR* *SSSSSSSSSSSRRRRRRR* *TRRRRRRRRUMMMMTRRRRRUUMMMM* *PLOP*

Damian: "hahahaha I think I'm done"

Frank: "Not me yet, I shit on my underpants and in this cubicle there isn't even toilet paper"

Damian: "Take this roll dad, clean yourself first"

Frank: "But you must get out of here, everyone out there is waiting for you."

Damian: "I don't want to celebrate my wedding without my father present"

[sshassh-sshout-you]

"Creation" Chapter 4.1 Forest sprinkled with poison

A/N: I got behind schedule because of an unexpected feeling of illness, loss of consciousness and a visit to the city hospital... The adventure was so-so. I will monitor my health more carefully so that this does not happen again. I hope the events of the chapter will justify me

Word count: 4,1K

Mentions: brief mentions of death, hints of rape, sexual oppression and abuse, use of children, themes of parenthood and breeding, mentions of blood, injuries and mutilation, swearing, animal torture (oh... it will be fine, I promise you - because I consider the last point inhumane and it is only necessary for the plot twist)

🎧 Power-Haus, Christian Reindl, Lucie Paradis — Gefion

Crystal-clear sky. White with a dash of blue and grey. Not a cloud, but the feeling of mischievous rain is hovering in the air.

You were three or four years old then, not more. You didn't pronounce letters well, were distracted by this and that.

And you keep this memory far, far away in memory, like a ward.

Sitting on your father's shoulder, you hold your mother's hand. You point your parents to the strawberry patch visible at the fork in the paths, like an experienced lookout. Your parents take heed to your babble with laughter, your father lowers you onto the short grass, flattened by the summer breeze, and your mother hints you how to pick berries from the bushes. The handbusket you hold is filled in a matter of minutes.

Happy, with your plump palms stained with berry juice, you hand the dainty to your mother — a gesture, that she praises your efforts, is full of pride. She ruffles your unruly curls. Lifting you into the air, your father places you back on his shoulders.

Parents questioning you about the recently learned words, asking you to name everything you see — you swing your legs and name every grass blade, every bug on the way home.

Scarcely the slanted, moss-covered ruins could be called home. But here you lived the brightest years of your childhood.

The door creaks as you stomp inside, hallooed out to your mother and father. They are standing behind.

The sun is hiding, but the rain doesn't drip.

Parents look at you with a love that you will never be able to forget — and will barely find anywhere else.

***

The turned-down edge of a yellowed, worn book. The letters on the pages are ghostly. The illustrations are bright.

Your foster parents always encouraged your curiosity — for your seventeenth birthday you received a book about the world structure. A book about all the phenomenas and inhabitants of a planet that has been continiously changing — there, upstairs — for many billions of years.

You kept book with carefully and cautiosly. Just like every story told by your foster mother, imbued with wisdom. Just like every instruction from your foster father, aimed at save you from scourges.

A year later, running away, you didn’t manage to take a single thing. Not a single memory.

These parents also look at you, buried under layers of metal and earth, with love. It's a different feeling — but just as eternal. And that you'll also barely some day find.

***

You wake up with a naive gust to get at least a little warmth of your mother's hands from your hair. Straighten out yourself, lying in a nest warmed by the sun — this warmth can also be settle with. Albeit with a creak, even with aching sadness.

Since your blood parents died, have passed thousands of days, filled with darkness. Since your foster parents died, have passed months, and your heart is howling.

The book was left there, in the rotten underground prison. One of the bastards dropped it on the floor of your room. In a fight where life was at stake, you still managed to take the most valuable things from your involuntary home. Only one was mattered — hide, strike a blow, and get out of the shackles to the surface. Had to sacrifice the book, in order to run without looking back. The pages and the binding were probably already trampled. While they were prowling, sniffing out your footprints.

However, the grey backpack with one strap, in which you had raked the remains of the past, also remained somewhere not far from their lair. You held it to clouding tightly — until fell off the bridge.

Rolling tumble, smearing in mud, you prayed — if only they wouldn't find what belonged to you. If only they wouldn't plundered it, wouldn't messed it.

If only backpack remained lying somewhere in the grass.

You'll have found it, you'll have be able to... If it hadn't been mortally dangerous to go back there.

The guilt that you were unable to retain even one complete memory of your former life rises in your throat. Everything is lost there. Your daily, worn-out clothes. Your comb with bent teeth. Your locket turned into a bracelet. Notebook. Prayer book. Drawings of how you remember your blood parents. Photo album of how you remember your foster parents. Old camera with several empty rolls, that could have been used to capture something important... You had to try to catch at least something... But what is lost cannot be returned.

You look at the rising sun.

Providing your face to the rays crumbling across the hut.

Tears don't flow, eyes don't sting. And lungs don't cramp in desolate spasm. Maybe, this is what means reconcile.

During the time you spent in the clan, summer had almost blossomed from the spring buds. The daylight hours had increased, the working hours — too. It was strange to realize this. You had asked only to wait out the cold night, without hoping for anything more. Now you've lived here for the rest of the cold spring.

The shades of the seasons, while you were freezing among cruelty and heresy, did not change at all. Spring remained elegant and tender, like a wreath woven from wild flowers. Summer remained playful, like many-colored pebbles glittering on the lake bottom.

Raising your head to the sky, admiring its palette — and look around, searching for differences from the past. Except for your broken growing up, everything is the same. Like in distant childhood memories. Can't even believe it.

Everything is exactly the same. Even the feeling warmth of mother's hands.

The warmth of a mother's touch, carreeing through the roofs of the huts and through the space under open sky.

Through the past, the present, and, definitely, through the future.

A touch that came before civilizations and wars. A touch that cannot disappear as long as families exist. Unforgettable, unshakable. Repeated in a multitude of meanings and forms... Once upon a time, these were the hands of your own mother, who silently told you all the basics for a child's mind necessary.

Now these are the hands of a female chimpanzee lulling her cub.

Yes, the same one who hurried to move away from you, saving the most important she has - her children. Now Kantis and her husband (it's incredible, but in fact, apes unions, bonded with rituals, and not with spots of seals, are mostly stronger and durable than humans), who perceived you with hostility, are much more favorable. As you managed to find out by chance, the age of people and apes is calculated nearly the same - which means that Kantis was a not much older than you. But at first, with grumpiness, she let you under her wing. Like an unfledged chick.

You admit, that this is how it is.

The shells cracked on you just as they did on those eaglets you watched with awe among the sticks, rods and softly carpeted perches. Even if those shells were not visible, you were afraid to climb out of the egg.

You needed help, from start to finish, to feel like you weren't out of place. The decision was made unspoken. When both Kantis's little cubs, Nober and Febri, who can only slither and babble, took their first clumsy steps towards you... More and more often you visit them, for a short time or for many talkative hours, to remember the feeling of family, unbreakable kinship.

***

The cuts healed, leaving almost no scars. As Dar had said, you no longer dragged your feet, but ran like a little deer. Together with the apes children, having memorized all the ringing names. Especially the names of the five mischief-makers who attacked you with curiosity and naivety. Insightful as adult Kaidy, modest Lum and her little brother Lup, thoughtful Elan, and, of course, brave hooligan Paco. Answering their pouring like rivulets questions, you found real joy. Forgetting about the bothering wounds, you played unknown games with them — and taught them the games you knew. It was an honest, pure exchange.

The apes children were no different from the human children — and you were both a strict adult and a noisy child with them at the same time.

Uncorked yourself from the iron jar just recently and re-learning the outlines of everything familiar, you responded to many things with the same childish delight as the five apes cubs. They didn't draw out dark secrets out of you — they only asked for exciting stories and catch-ups. It was easier for you to find with them a common language.

Watching the incessant, peaceful flow of weeks, you yourself sometimes questioned them with genuine curiosity.

This seemed to you that, what would make you happier.

As much it possible while hidden from everyone mourning.

In the dungeon, too, in your free time from back-breaking work, you did not miss a single chance to mess around with the children. Here you eagerly awaited the moment when you could bring at least some slightly advantage. But this moment never doesn't coming.

Everyone was busy, but the Elders were in no hurry to assign any businesses to you. Even though you yourself asked for responsibilities. Even though the crumbs of kindness that you kept within yourself and joyfully gave to the cubs, softened the initial sharp edges. Still, even though you received shelter here — mistrust outweighed virtue.

Mistrust settled in Vikima's blind, transparent pupils. She not drive you away. She called all people grief-sending spirits. The teen-chimps, who adore her stories of the past, told you of the fresh grieving that lay in her wrinkles. She had lost three sons and a husband. Fault for that — human and the disfavor of fate.

Without daring to express it, you shared her sadness. And, as if seeing what was happening in your soul, the Elders replaced their disguised, justified anger on mercy.

Once you've adjusted and healed your wounds, assured Dar, you'll be able to do work that you can handle.

You were flattered.

You were guessed, that Dar means taking care of the children. Just as like you dreamed.

And then, maybe you'll join the healing. Elders know about this your skill. The opportunity to mention it already presented itself, when one of the cubs got a splinter and you helped to take it out, without a single childish tear. But it's better not to rush events.

***

So far, under the constant, mentoring supervision, you have learned to live as is commonly in the clan. And surprisingly, you have done well.

The traditions of the apes, maybe, been foreign to you — but their culture and beliefs were certainly not about vandalism and widespread wrecking. They revered Mother-Nature and all her bountiful gifts, lived in harmony with her powers. In contrast to the settlement where you could never exist. There was no respect for anything that existed. The teachings of that place hummed: tear out, hack away. Destroy.

Resounding in a bass voice heartless choir. Consisting of hundreds of pests, tormenting you in nightmares, and only occasionally interspersed with pictures of an unblemished childhood... Here this raging choir died down, giving you brief moments of peace.

Finding yourself in the womb of forest, among strangers who were being vilified by gossips, you seemed to breathe for the first time in many, many strained years.

Let in not air, but entire grassy expanses inside yourself, your consciousness.

You couldn't know in advance, that what evil tongues were telling might turn out to be true.

You couldn't know nothing, until you convinced it personally.

This, of course, would require many more seasons. But despite their wariness, the apess welcomed you with cordiality. And when you were about to leave, gathering your meager belongings — Noa suggested, that you stay until you found a better place. And you, and he knew, that such a place simply didn't exist — and from anywhere you would be like a patch on a cloth that did not need to be patched. This was an offer not to huddle as a guest, but to settle down forever. With this wording between the lines you agreed. Here you were not subjected to any violence, not even an indirect hint of violence. Here you were granted, to some extent, freedom of thought, speech and action. In the settlement, leniency was granted only to slaves, living commodity as a reward, when the slave owners achieved whatever cruel aim.

There were not many aims and needs for which girls, young women and women were needed there. Only two. Small, painstaking labor and childbearing. If your escape failed — you'll would have suffer, like pretty, until one of these men who had no right to be called men disgraced you in the most painful way. The rapes would have continue until your womb bore a child. If it were a girl — she would be left in your arms, waiting for her to become a resource. If it were a boy — he would be removed to a compartment located just below the surface as soon as you finished feeding him with breast milk. It is difficult to determine which fate is worse. A doll for plaything or a mannequin for huntmastering?..

Children were born rarely, but there they meant nothing. Children were just instruments.

Attachment to children was conditional. Parental love was frowned.

A crime against all the precepts that has bequeathed God... Aimless childbearing and equally aimless labor. If from the chosen victim could be obtained neither of these  — or if the result did not satisfy the tormentors — victim was thrown into the garbage. Exhausted and used. It was a hellish cycle. It was written in blood and flesh law...

Regarding life as burden, you had never before considered, whether you would ever want to have your own children. Here you thought about it in the silence of the night, ringing among the animals calling.

There was no point in looking around too intently. In every hut, in addition to the nest that served as a bed, there was something reminiscent of a cradle for newborns. Your hut was no exception. This uncurtained cradle distracted you from your work, all your thoughts circled around the cradle... You know, there are more such seeds-prisons scattered underground, made of an alloy of cold metals and glass. These seeds will not germinate through decades or through centuries. You are doomed to loneliness, cutting yourself off from imprisonment — and from human men.

Maybe, it's for the better?.. What life could live children who were born not for unconditional love, but for the preservation of a morally fallen race? Hardly a happy one.

This aim was disgusting to you, but understandable. The desire of the bastards, who got what they deserved, to possess you was at least explainable.

You were already a working unit, serged and darned for days. And you would have become a good mother, even if you had no chances to give your children a childhood with a clear sky above their heads. Now you are deprived of the chance for motherhood...

But, given the theoretical possibility of helping in the apes manger, would you be so useful? Several generations of females manage this perfectly well without you. Your help is as great, as a grain in a sack. Not to mention that here you are useless as a vessel for conceiving and bearing offspring. Everything in you is breaking under the weight of questions and breaking through, for the first time in months, selfishness. If you stay here, you will inevitably end up an old maid. No matter how you look at it, are you needed here for any aim?..

But, otherwise, why would Noa teach the stubbornly silent you everything he himself knew?.. Obviously, he made your stay in the clan easier. He shared with you the tricks, necessary for survival — as he himself let it slip, the second time luck will not save you.

Indeed, it was not luck that saved you, but he, Noa. One of the apes. One of those, whom people admitted as evil incarnate. One of those, who did not drive you away, when all the people around were deaf to your despair. So, you were convinced only that the slander is a lie. Because you see in apes much more humanity, than in the hateful dungeon, teeming with unhappy people and inhuman cruelty.

And, living side by side with apes, you want to strengthened in this conviction.

You would like to thank Noa even, perhaps, more — only thanks to his contradictory act you see, what this whole world can be. Only this act of his already roots your withered, eaten away by fear, like parasite, hope. But the oath, that rumbles in your head, prevents you from saying just one word. The fact, that he is not a human, does not cancel your prejudice. You will not utter a single word, intended for a man. Even if his thoughts are pure.

It feels wrong to use gestures for explaining — but your tongue feels like it’s falling into your stomach, when you try to even imagine a conversation with Noa. And your lips feel like a needle is piercing them, pulling tiny stitches of a nonexistent thread.

At your silent request, Noa tells you what these strange, small wooden blocks are that have caught your attention. It's sort of ward. You can find them in every hut, as you noticed when you looked in on Soona. Trinket with a mystical meaning. And everyone in the clan makes these blocks for themselves single-handedly.

Tiny blocks laid in a row in your hut were made by Noa.

Without knowing why, you get in earnest angry when you find it out — and you ask Noa to take them to his own home and teach you this skill. So that there in your room will be nothing foreign.

If you said it out loud, would sound absurd.

But even from the crumpled gestures, your hands nervously twitched.

It was further proof of Noa's good intentions towards you, which you couldn't be angry about. But you couldn't pacify the vague indignation. How and the crudely expressed movements of fingers.

To your sincere surprise, Noa once again does exactly as you asked. By sunset, not a single wooden trinket remains in your hut. The next dawn, Noa begins teaching you how to handle wood.

If you dared to ask for such a stupid little thing there, among the boors seething with anger and bile — on your face would already be turning blue hematomas.

Here you shake off the sawdust, use one of the gestures you learned over the spring to ask Noa if you’re doing well — and twirl in your hands a crooked short peg.

A snarky laugh is heard. Jeru and Nigig, who's else, damn...

They are no better than what is happening in the place you fled from. They have been trying so hard to ridicule you, to vomit more vileness at you since the day Noa brought you into the clan. No matter what they say, you remain silent. Not because Noa insisted on such tactics, although you did listen to his advice then. You just do not consider Nigig a representative of the female kind. You could have answered her a hundred fold more painfully, but there is no need.

Jeru keeps Nigig around not as his woman, but as his empty-barking henchman. He treats her like a mutt. She behaves accordingly, indulging in his unreasonable attacks.

Listening to their dry conversation one day, you are perplexed. They have nothing to talk about, if not to insult. They are united only by malice. For a brief moment, you wonder — why do they live under the same roof, if their union is based on the desire to verbally mock someone, and not on the desire to while away the evenings together, to raise offspring together?..

Such abscesses are present on the body of any society, you suppose. Without them, good treatment wouldn't be appreciated.

Spending even a sound on them both — squandering. You put the unfinished trinket aside, folding your arms across your boobs. You close yourself off from the male's gaze rummaging your body, and don't understand, how his companion allows it. You involuntarily step behind Noa's shoulder, he growling, bristling fur and losing his patience. You look through their grimacing foreheads.

"In a long time haven't seen... such muck" Jeru laughs, grinning. And you can hear from his intonation, that he's not talking about your unskillful work, but about you.

"Don't amuse me... What else is capable of this... bedding?" Nigig looks at you dismissively, stretching out the last word into syllables.

"I'll pretend that you... didn't yipedd nothing. Now get lost" Noa replies, shielding you with his back. The indignation in his voice makes you stupefied.

Wooden block fall to the ground, when Jeru tries to grab your wrist.

Without a second thought, Noa knocks him down. You scream and stand rooted to the spot, and Nigig's trail went cold. Who would doubted it.

The second time Noa fights is because of you, damn him. You take a step back, toward the wood chips and shavings. You beg to stop, as splashes of someone's blood are drif apart. Sound of crushing bone. Noa stands up, shaking himself. He's unharmed, save for the blood trickling from his nose. Beating he gave Jeru, on the other hand, was more than serious. Tucked tail, that's what he lacks.

Your impressions of what happened are controversial. There is no one here except you, Noa, and the future wooden amulets. He clearly didn't get into a fight to maintain status, his or yours.

Noa protects you selflessly. With arguments and fists. In every way. From that night, appearing as a saving shadow, and to this day. Even if this aim is not voiced — now it is understandable to you. But why?..

It takes a few moments to indecisiveness, but you hesitate, for what feels, like a whole summer. You walk up to Noa, quickly wiping the blood off his face with the back of your hand. And run so fast, that you can't catch your breath, when you get back to your house. Those are still not the words you want to say. But at least it's something.

***

You dream of a backpack. Nothing but a backpack and the area where you dropped it.

A steep hill right behind the lake, surrounded by thin-armed trees. Cobblestones, small pebbles. Tenacious bushes. A bridge...

***

In a dream the realize, that you went back for your backpack and lost it again very close to the place where Noa found you, gives you unprecedented strength.

You'll find. You'll be able.

You run at your two legs, as if on a galloping horse. Along the way you fall into the dried on sun mud, suffocate in a column of rising dust. You see a stone bridge in sight. You run faster, hoping to meet the almost lost memories...

Hear a squeak, from which your heart is ruptures.

Like sick infants cry. Only more shriller. As if death was breathing down neck again, pacing somewhere nearby...

Beneath a low-growing gooseberry bush, rendingly screaming a rabbit. Its hind leg caught in the jaws of a trap. Noa towers over it, aimed a spear.

"Hey, owl!" you yelling at the top of your throat. Louder than the poor rabbit. Louder than the birds flying in all directions. Louder than a weapon falling with a crash.

Hands down, Noa looks straight at you, turning around. You're holding a sharpened spear. You're learning fast. And you're filled with dissapointment.

"Yes, Noa, I'm talking to you! It was you, who spoke of owls and rabbits. So you were feint? Well, I'm glad, that I saw your deception with my own eyes"

Forest sprinkled with poison of your words.

These weren't supposed to be the first words you spoke to Noa. Not at all. You rehearsed them in your head, wandering through the swirls of ornate phrases — waiting until you were ready to speak them without fear. Now you're waiting to see if Noa will pick up his spear and if you strike a blow again.

Leaning down towards the incessantly squeaking lump, you open the trap with incredible effort. When Noa tries to help, you don't let him near and hiss.

"Or you move away, or I'll stick your hand there!" you say in a weak, loud whisper as he reaches for the rabbit you pick up. "You wanted to kill him..."

"I wanted to kill whoever... set the trap. Look. Too big for... a rabbit" Noa says confused. You hide the wounded animal in your hands, seeing yourself as if in a reflection. "Someone is hunting echo"

[evolutionsvoid]

Night has fallen on the farm, just like it has for many years. The darkness that comes never bothered you, even when faced with storm or hungry coyotes. If the livestock were in danger, you wouldn't hesitate to grab a lantern and plunge into the inky blackness, ready to do anything to keep them safe. You've mended busted barn doors in the middle of a dark storm before, and even fended off wolves that tried to steal a meal. At the time, the darkness never frightened you, as you have certainly dealt with worse.

But tonight is different, and the setting of the sun brought a dread you never felt before. Though everything looks the same as it always has at night time, you cannot fight off that horrible feeling. That was all before you took down that wretched scarecrow, and brought the deal to an end. It had served you well for these years, keeping the farm afloat as drought and lean times threatened your livelihood. Surviving these rough patches was certainly uplifting, but you could never shake the horrible feeling that scarecrow gave you. When looking at your fellows' fields as crows stripped them bare, all while yours remained pristine. Watching your crops grow golden and ripe, while everyone else's withered in the heat. Your livestock were fat and happy, and fetched higher prices then the measly sickly things brought to market. It felt like cheating, and the glares always cast in your direction helped drive that feeling home. And though your pockets grew fat with coin, something inside felt hollow. The price for this all hadn't seemed that much at first, when you called upon them in your barren fields. But in time, you got the inkling that you gave up something far more that day. Something that can't be bought back with gold or silver.

That was why you took it down. The days of need were over, the worst has passed. The seasons are now favorable once more, and all the other farmers are getting along just fine. There is no need for their help anymore, or at least that was what you argued. In truth, though, a big reason was because you couldn't stomach the sight of that horrible thing anymore. Couldn't bear to see it hanging above your fields like some rotten guardian angel. You never got used to it, even though you owed it so much. But that was why you gave extra offerings as you pulled it down from its post. Double payment, to make up for this sudden end. Surely they would understand, they always had been before. But maybe it was because they still had their gnarled claws on you when you came to them on your knees. Still under their power, and thus still available to be squeezed for more. But enough was enough. It was time to call it quits. They got their payment and you got out. At least, that is what you hoped...

As you lay in bed, you can't help but see demons in the dark and hear whispers in the silence. Every little thing makes you jump, expecting grasping roots to reach for your throat at any second. But all remains calm. Everything is fine. You are just paranoid after all that strange business. You have to remember that nothing happened after you took down the scarecrow. No fire and brimstone, no screams or curses. You simply got it down and buried it out back, returning it the same way you found it. Yet there was no resistance, no fighting. If they were against the ending of the deal, than surely it would have sprung to life as you had it slung over your shoulders. Surely it would have grabbed you in a smothering embrace of musty straw and strangled the life out of you. But it didn't. It went down without a hitch, and returned to the earth like any corpse. You could sleep easy, it was all over.

The sharp clap nearly sent you through the roof. Like thunder out of nowhere. You scramble for a weapon or a place to hide, your panicked brain can hardly choose a plan. But as you stumble and flail in the dark, clarity eventually wrestles control back. When you hear it again, you suddenly realize your foolishness. CLACK! That wooden clattering is one of the barn windows being blown about in the wind. You must have failed to properly seal it, and now it is banging about in the night. It isn't the first time that has happened, as some of those darn things are an utter nuisance to fix. CLACK! The clatter comes again, its din rhythmic but comforting. No danger here, no demons to be found. Just a stupid loose window. You give a shaky chuckle at your paranoia and get your things together. Best to get out there and fix it, or else it will keep you up all night. And no doubt the livestock hate that noise too. You fetch your boots and coat, thankfully the workshop is in the barn as well. No need to haul tools. Just get out there, fix it and get back. There is nothing to be afraid of.

You open your door to head to the barn, but can't help but scan your surroundings with the lantern. Doesn't hurt to double check. But the soothing light reveals nothing, no dangers out here. The night is calm and still. All is well. You take your first step out but then freeze in your tracks. Your blood runs cold, and terror nearly crushes your heart into a pulp with its grip. You didn't even realize it at first, but it hit you like a runaway caravan. The night is calm and still. There is no wind. Nothing to blow a window loose. Yet you hear that wooden bang again. CLACK! The clatter of dusty boards and the creak of ancient hinges. Yet there is no wind. CLACK! There is another sharp clap. Your mind and legs fail you in this terrifying moment, unable to do anything but stand there like a stunned statue. CLACK! It comes again. CLACK! It rings through the still night. CLACK! Its sharp report sounds closer now. CLACK! It's shambling right towards you....

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

This strange fellow is for a spooky contest I was told about on DA. So I decided why not and throw in an entry! If we are talking about the spooky season, then why not do a scarecrow? And why not a scarecrow visually inspired by Yohualtepoztli?