“Must Have Reliable Transportation” = “this Is How We Legally Discriminate Against Poor People

i bringeth Notes for the swap AU

i tried to keep some core bits about them in mind while coming up with these!  feel free to take or leave any of this in art or conjecture, i just wanted to share what i’d written down because that art injected both serotonin and brainworms straight into my mind

Gary (swapped with John) — A priest who’s so popular some like to claim he runs a cult.  He’s still manipulative, but in a charismatic bastard way (and has good intentions at heart), and is much more a philosopher and debater than canon!John.  He doesn’t scare nearly as easily when exorcising demons (he’s quite numb due to trauma of his own “exorcism” at young age at his mom’s daycare) — definitely houses some Hot Takes that the Vatican does not approve of and is not afraid to speak out about injustices in the Vatican . Amy (swapped with Lisa) — Gary’s secret confidant and observer, often gathers information from rumor mills and parses out what’s true and what’s false.  Still works at the abortion clinic, to her parents’ extreme distaste, and she rooms with Gary because her family will not take her back until she quits her job and repents.  (Both Gary and Amy think this is bullshit, and Amy has no plans to go back home ever again.)  Surprisingly level-headed and quick-witted for an eighteen year old from a sheltered Catholic home. John (swapped with Gary) — A man terrified of and disgusted by the world’s evil and wants to purge it through his cult, though he is weak-willed and at the whims of the demon Buer, who uses demonic energy to “purify” his followers and blind one of their eyes (though it can see supernatural things and acts as a portal to Hell).  He hides away in an abandoned asylum and forest to perform his rituals, and the cult sports a lot of deer iconography. Lisa (swapped with Amy) — John’s childhood friend and most loyal compatriot.  She is completely willing to let her body be a mouthpiece for Buer and a tool for his machinations—the visions she constantly beholds have taken a deep toll on her sanity, and her words no longer make sense unless you are deeply entrenched in the cult itself or have taken measures to “open your mind” to it (a la canon!Gary’s injection). Miriam (swapped with Garcia) — Gary’s mother, retains her maiden name whereas Gary takes her late husband’s surname.  A devout Catholic running a daycare who is determined to make her son into the perfect child of God.  She is disappointed by some of his decisions, but will fight at his side nonetheless.  She’s probably where Gary gets his “smiting” tendencies from.  Often wears a mask to cover up some lasting scars that came from her own past battling demons.  Whereas some would use guns, she much prefers swords, even in her old age. Garcia (swapped with Miriam) — Known in the cult of Buer as “the grandfather”; a sage-like figure to John and Lisa, able to interpret the words of demons best and urges John to continue on with his goals.  He is a lapsed Catholic, John having manipulated him into the cult at a time when his faith was weakest.  He tends to the demons that grow from John’s “gardens” like they are his own children, and will grow increasingly violent the more damage is done to them or the property.

________________

WOAGH GOOD LORD THESE ARE SO PERFECT?? THANK YOU I LOVE THESE. SO MUCH rotates this in my mind forever

NSFW

warning: slight corruption kink, yandere behavior, panty stealing, breeding kink, dubcon if you squint

EHEHEH thinking about yandere!angel who has never been hard before.

He sees you, such a pretty little human he’s meant to watch over. You’re so soft and plump, your body stirs something in his belly that he doesn’t completely understand.

And he sees you undressing one night, your form completely bare before his very eyes.

Angels always walk around in the nude, they aren’t ashamed of their bodies… so why does his cock start to twitch and harden?

He doesn’t understand, this has never happened before and the feeling is unbearable. Something in his body wants to be closer to you, to… connect with you.

The angel approaches your room, quiet as he opens your window and slides in with ease. He’s not sure what he should do, but he spots your discarded clothing.

It’s shameful, how he even thinks about stealing an item of your clothing. Your panties are your favorite color, lacy with a little bow on the front. He can spot a slight wetness there, and he starts to drool.

Why is his body reacting like this? His cheeks flush a crimson red as he flees your home, your underwear in his hand. He flies far away, as if trying to escape his new, lustful feelings.

He isolates himself in a small cave, slowly draping your panties over his throbbing cock. The feeling of your slick coated panties touching his tip made him hiss out in pleasure.

Of course, the angel had never masturbated before. He came within just a few strokes, but his cock was still so swollen. Every time he thought about your plush frame, his tip dribbled precum, and he couldn’t help but jerk off again.

It just wasn’t enough… soon he felt so sore, and his hands weren’t soft like yours, and he bet your lips or pussy would feel so much better…

He was your protector, wasn’t he? It made sense that he’d get to fuck his precious little cherub, his sweet girl, right?

Wouldn’t it be a blessing to put a baby in your belly?

Usually the angel had no trouble flying, but now he was trying his best to concentrate on getting to your home.

You spot him in the window, your eyes still bleary from sleep. He’s the picture of elegance, with long, flowing blonde hair and gorgeous dark eyes…

“Be not afraid, I am a messenger of god…” he panted, cheeks flushed pink. “You… have been chosen for something… great…”

He walked in, your curtain billowing around him as he stretched out and lightly clapped his snow-white wings.

His eyes were on your skimpy nightgown, and the way it barely covered your plush thighs.

“You’ve been chosen… to carry my child…”

Your plump thighs squished together, causing him to let out an involuntary moan. “Ch-child? How would you… do that? Touch my belly or something, like the Virgin Mary?”

His eyes were clouded with lust as he approached your bed, his hand trembling with need. “No, my sweet girl… I am no God, I’ll have to take a much more… direct approach.”

In an instant he was on top of you, his lips crashing into yours with an urgency only to be expected of a virgin. He was inexperienced, but tasted like honey and was as gentle as he possibly could be.

Already his erection was pressing against your thigh, and he unceremoniously thrusted his hips, trying to get more friction.

You were so damn soft, warm to the touch. It was taking everything in him not to ravish you instantly.

His fingers danced across your clothed cunt, testing the waters. When he pulled his hand back, it was wet and with a soft lick, his eyes went wide.

You tasted amazing.

Though he wanted to devour your fat cunt, he needed yo be inside of you even more. He was in pain, his cock aching and begging your your warmth to envelope him.

You watched his wings twitch as he positioned himself between your legs. The white feathers were soft to the touch, and you held onto them while he pushed in.

The angel couldn’t help himself, the second he felt your warm pussy he went crazy. His head was buried in your neck, his hips slapping against yours as he struggled to control his body.

He had never felt so good before, the angel was committing a terrible sin but he didn’t care, not one bit.

“S-so good, you’ll have your reward in heaven…” he blubbered out, cheeks red and covered in pleasured tears. “God…”

He came so quick, painting your walls white as hips nails dug into your hips.

All he wanted to do now was wrap his wings around you, holding you close. The angel didn’t pull out, you felt way too warm and comfy for that.

As he kissed your head and snuggled with you in bed, he was sure that that this was fate. Perhaps he was meant to lust after you…

You were something special, and no one would take you away from him.

————————

NSFW TAGLIST: @avalordream @icommitwarcrimes @bazpire @im-eating-rn @anglingforlevels @kinshenewa @pasteldaze @yoongiigolden @peachesdabunny @murder-hobo @leiselotte @misswonderfrojustice @dij-ology @i8kaeya @lollboogurl @h3110-dar1in9 @keikokashi @aliceattheart @mssmil3y @namjoons-t1ddies @izarosf1833 @healanette @lem-hhn @spufflepuff @honey-crypt @karljra @zyettemoon1800 @exodiam @vexillum-moeru @imperfectlyperfectprincess1 @enchantedsylveon @mysticranger575 @readeryn68 @danielle143 @kittenlover614 @filthybunny420 @annavittoria-mm @makimamybelovedwife @blubearxy @omglovelylaila @toocollectionchaos-universe-blog @fruk-you-usuk-fans @wil10wthetree @hammerhead96-blog @slightlyusedfloormat @bubblez-blop @sunshineangel-reads @heroneki-neko @soapybabyboop @anonymouskiwi

Hii! Can I please request some yan Dottore with a newly kidnapped reader?🩷

“PRIMUM NON NOCERE” / DOTTORE.

Summary: You’ve been rejecting Dottore’s offer to work for him, not at all flattered by his proposal. That’s why he decides to bring you to him instead.

contents: gender neutral reader / yandere / kidnapping / gore / drugging / reader is forced to participate in human experimenting / panicked suicide attempt / generally anything bad that could come with Dottore’s character. word count: 3.1k

note: I hope you don’t mind I revamped the idea a little :) I thought this would make an interesting plot, and it’s still about how you are being treated after being kidnapped.

In your career as a quirky doctor with more unconventional methods that have landed you an infamous reputation, you had quickly learned how to abandon any visceral attachment to your patients and focus on the gruesome reality of what sometimes needed to be done is specific circumstances — “hurting” your patients in name of their survival was more important than weeping for their woes of pain, and when they have to go, you let them.

This could never imply you had derived yourself of any care, nor that your patients were just a bags of flesh for you to work on, something The Doctor sending his agents after you could be conjecturing, if their deliveries were in the form of invitations from him to join him in his projects — going against any ethics you had as a healer, and the oath you’d sworn to uphold to when beginning your practice.

When you first published your own article about the usage of Sumeru’s creature fungus’s skin as skin grafts for the burn victims, you soon became a laughingstock among colleagues from your field claiming a human body would naturally reject the human skin substitute — no matter that you’ve had provided them with enough evidence proving the match being possible. No one has believed in you or in your theory, no one expect him; out of all the people that could have been your ally was the most unsolicited by you man. Ever since he’d reached out to you for the first time, he’s been sending you different letters encouraging you to join him under the excuse of promising you to be accompanied in your journey of expanding on your thesis — or various others you had.

You could admit and admire his skills and accomplishments, especially in terms of Eleazar, which still didn’t make him someone you’d want an as an ally.

The idea of having a familiar soulmate for your oddities would have been enticing if it wasn’t the worst “doctor” you could ever shake hands with. You had heard numerous rumors about Fatui’s endeavors and plays with human life, supposedly all in name of science, and coming to the conclusion of what you’d have to do by his side to expand on your research has given you more than enough reason to keep sending persistent rejections and refusals to Dottore. To which, Dottore has never acknowledged or accepted his defeat.

Letters becoming visits from his agents, leaving pouches of mora to freeze outside of your door, finally have reached a climax in a form you being taken away from the doorstep ot your house to his lab — bag over your head to conceal any depths of the lab you were taken into, too confidential for a person opposing the harbinger, as they dragged you through the corridors.

Your hearing was sensitized with a jute sack over your ears; only hearing splashes of the muddy snow with every step, your own breathing echoing the closed space, and finally, the male, low voice as you were shoved into the room. “What did I tell you about contaminating the floor?” the voice harshly scolded, and you sensed a flinch in one of the agent’s hand on your arm. “Remove their shoes at once. Get rid off that unprofessionally tied rope too.”

You couldn’t protest as they took off your boots, leaving your cold feet get even colder from the tiles you stood on in socks; followed by a quick snap of the binds.

A click of heeled steps moved towards you and finally freed you of the burden of the bag, your eyes confronting the figure you didn’t want so ever see again.

Dottore grabbed your bruised cheeks, swollen by punches you’ve received from the hands of agents frustrated with your lack of cooperation, and he turned your face twice to the left, once to the right with a click of his tongue. “Tsk, what did I tell you two about bringing them here in one piece? I need them healthy, not with a concussion.” You doubted his disappointment was out of care for you; rather, his goods becoming damaged and less useful — whatever intentions he might have with you.

“Leave us two alone, I’ll deal with you two later,” his voice lowered, manifesting a threat for two agents who quickly scurried away.

Only when your eyes have finally adjusted to the light was when you could look at Dottore and fully rain your bearings. Red eyes boring into your soul, the mask covering most of his deadly pale skin, a small smirk of triumph over catching the elusive doctor. A room you were in, you assumed to be a sort of lab — clean and sterile, with grey tiles on walls and the floor, accompanied with glass shelves filled with different bottles, metal desk and chairs. The room wasn’t dark, giving enough light to work; however, everything was cold toned as sterile would suggest, that even if environment familiar to you, now it exuded scary atmosphere. Regardless, no blood patterns or anything else rotting was rolling around, as one would have expected from a stereotypical mad scientist — Dottore had more than enough brain juice to follow work safety guidelines and not contaminate his own works, a truth ought to have been obvious for anyone not living in fantasy.

Your mouth opened to spill profanities at the scientist, but his finger ended up on your lips, shushing the emotionality you wanted to start.

“You and I are going to have a talk. It’s rather unbecoming of a grown adult to want to yell,” his voice was a tease, clearly capable of being provocative into the mentioned by him state.

“Don’t you dare to joke when-“ your sequence of anger was cut off when he shoved you down into a chair — leather seat with a metal construction, where a patient would be situated when having their blood drawn. Another leather part was in straps built to bind a naughty patient… he didn’t trap you in these, but the risk was still carried, should you become too defiant.

You were right to be worried when he picked up a syringe, filled with unfamiliar to you contents, and approached you. The hands were about to shake the vial off of his hands, but the neck of yours was jabbed with a needle — you quickly realizing it was a muscle relaxant as you turned limp. He could have just tied you down, yet the chemical would make the process of interrogation even smoother — or maybe he just wanted an excuse to treat you like a lab rat.

“Now,” he announced, his voice booming against the tiles of an empty room — so quiet it was unsettling. “I’m sure you are intelligent enough to already be on track of thoughts to why you’re here,” he mused, a tone entertained by your grumpy expression; still, not lacking some anger he wanted to keep quiet. Oh, how outrageous it was for you to reject such a promising position by his side — someone thinking outside of box was a person he desires in his team, a hotshot for him to have. You’d be perfect if it wasn’t for that stupid human empathy holding you back — not even morals.

“You’re going to torture me to get back at me for rejecting your offer, I assume,” you said, your tongue too loose to make a proper and loud speech.

“Torture?” he asked in surprise, before breaking into a laugh. “My, I’d have no use in torturing you. I am not… so petty to torture you over a small failure — one easily fixable too,” you couldn’t tell if it was your drugged mind, but his words carried a worrying innuendo. Your heart raced in distress despite your relaxed body.

“No, after all that chase, it’d be a waste to reduce you to a mushy mess…” he murmured and grabbed a disinfectant, soaking a gauze pad in it.

You winced when the alcoholic solution infected your scratches and cuts on face. Your eyes blinked shut rapidly when he shun a light onto them. Your jaw was open too fast when he did so to gauge the damage on your tooth — thankfully none was much damaged as chipped, when the glove palpated on it and dried your mouth.

Only after a quick checkup you could speak, “Then what else do you want from me, Doctor?”

He sighed, as if in disappointment. “Shouldn’t it be obvious for someone as smart as you. The seat waiting for you has never been filled. You will work for me as intended.”

You tried to trash in your chair, to no avail when you were a victim of the sedative. “I will not be working for you! I refuse to hurt these people and ruin their lives like you do!” you almost yelled, not sparing him of your anger and fear. Becoming one to experiment on people was against everything you’ve made yourself to be. While your methods were less conventional, as long as you were making them efficient and people consented them, you were a long way away from becoming second Dottore.

His face became cold, and in a blink of an eye, he had you pinned to the back of your chair; his form looming over yours. “I’ve put a lot of my hopes in you, only for you to be another person to mischaracterize and misjudge me. I am not hurting anyone, nor am I a sadist. Every project of mine is in name of science, in name of greater things a cerebellum of yours wouldn’t understand, and if I have to dissect people to achieve that, it’s only a duty,” he scolded with indignation, as if the only person wrong here was you.

“Who I experiment on are the dregs of society anyway.”

The repugnance overshadowed your fear, the thought of someone this little respect towards life too inhumane to comprehend. “These are innocent people, children, not scum of the earth like you call it! Each one of them deserves to live!”

“Oh, but they live,” his face leaned closer to yours, the bloody eyes scaring you. “As long as they had expressed enough tenacity, they live in bodies stronger than ever. Those who don’t make it out alive had their lives full of misery prior regardless.”

You liked to think of yourself as logical, knowing some things cannot be helped no matter how tragic some of the fates were; yet not even once have you thought of segregating human lives this way.

“I will not work for a man like you! Even if it kills me, even if you hurt me to make me work! I’ll rather die!” you promised, already thinking the situation through. If Dottore makes you a slave of a lab assistant, death is more merciful. There’s not really much of living left for you if you’d be only made to cause cruelties in his image. The predicament he’s put you in called for such measures.

Sadly, the words didn’t have much impact on the man — imperturbable when his genius mind already had come up with retaliations towards your possible mishaps. “You could even attempt suicide, my dear doctor. I’ll keep you with us anyway.”

The words shattered you in a way, terrified there’s no escape from becoming another sacrifice in name of science he likes to speak so much about.

“You’re too shaken up by the sudden abduction too. We’ll talk once you are rested and warm.”

When an odd creature in a form of a clone, “a segment” Dottore called him, entered the room to remove you, the cruel man didn’t acknowledge your screams as he returned to work with his back turned against you.

⚕️

You were violently woken up in the morning, dressed up in white clothes and fed by a woman. You couldn’t even make up to be if she was a nurse or a test subject Dottore forced to work too, as her demeanor seemed rather… lifeless.

“Ah, there you are,” Dottore smiled when he saw you enter his room, too happy sounding to herald anything good. “All dressed up and ready for work, it seems.”

Your eyes bulged out from his words, remembering being promised a conversation, not forced labor you’ve been dreading all night in a cramped room. “You said we are going to continue our conversation,” you pointed out with trepidation, and looked with worry at the unconscious patient strapped to the table. Were you allowed to find a comfort in the fact the man was not awake?

“Yes, but we can do that as we work. I’m sure a renowned doctor like you can multitask,” he joked dryly. Not only was he a person taking lives in name of science; he also was a liar, you find out now.

And you couldn’t do this. You can’t just break any rules of the oath, hurt innocent and cause unnecessary harm, and you weren’t even that empathetic predominantly— just sane enough to know it’s bad. Your methods were unconventional, and yet still humane.

You barely registered someone putting gloves on your hands.

You had two choices, and both were about choosing lesser evil. Live and cause involuntarily to you harm, or die and lose your life but spare yourself from this torment. You doubted Dottore would find a replacement for you easily anyway. So you were grabbing the nearest scalpel from the tray, ready to stab it and drag it in the most optimal spot, in chase of the swiftest of deaths— only for the deadly grip to hold your hand and twist your arm behind painfully.

“I’ve anticipated that, by the way,” he scoffed and maneuvered your shaking body to be standing in front of the test subject, Dottore holding you behind.

You trashed and teetered on your feet, but his power was exercised over you, locked in his arms around you. His hand held onto yours still holding a scalpel; now pointed at the patient’s chest.

“Let’s begin. We have to work on that theory of yours, after all.”

“Stop!” you pleaded, not wanting to be forced to cut an innocent person. “I can’t do this. It’s not fair. It’s inhumane. Do this yourself-” At this point, you weren’t even begging to let this man go — only for Dottore to free you of this burden by doing it himself, no matter how selfish it might have sounded. It’d happen anyway, so you chose to be a coward.

“Now, now. You’re too hellbent on painting this as terrible in those black and white terms of yours; too simpleminded.” He moved your hand to pin the skin of the stomach with the sharp tip of the scalpel, and you wanted to vomit — not from the gore you’d witness as you create gore everyday, but the forced onto you crime. “One life might be lost, yet many more will be saved. That should be a logic understandable enough.”

You gasped and cried out when he caused you to cause an incision, blood floating across the cut parting the skin. “Stop!” you screamed, pushing back at him — fruitless. “I don’t want to do this!”

“Hush,” he scolded into your ear, unperturbed by your whines, the cold breath chilling you. “You’ll wake him up,” he joked with sarcasm, as if the proposed was possible.

As Dottore guided your movement to cut through more lines of flesh and blood to make a shape of a square, revealing the man’s stomach now unpeeled off of the skin, you were sobbing. With other hand, he tilted your head back. “Careful. We can’t let your tears drop down into his body…”

“Okay, put the scalpel away, and turn your head around to look at me.” You obeyed immediately, immensely more in favor of looking at the monster than continue the massacre. Your hands remained bloodstained, however.

“You and I are not so far away from being alike.” Your heart stopped at his words, the worst comparison of the century hitting you like a brick.

“W-what?” you could barely choke out in your state of terror.

“We don’t like to stick to the conventional wisdom and approach; no matter if it’d lead others to believe we’re pariahs or even heretics. It’s not about becoming yet another knowledgeable scholar… only the innovators who know how to push forwards the future with what’s effective, not necessarily ethical or perfect.”

Your scrambled eggs of brain could barely follow his words, but the massage of him finding himself in you was clear. You shook your head in dizzying pain, not wanting to hear that.

“Don’t you want to be free, to find a solace in your own weirdness, and to strive towards the wellbeing of humanity?”

“I do, but not like this. I don’t want to hurt people,” you said, your voice taut as a bowstring from the dread.

Dottore heaved a sigh. “I’ve expected as much. But don’t worry, I’ll treat you out of this ailment you call morality that’s a disservice for both of us,” when his voice was so intense, you could only theorize how badly he’ll hurt you to make you tick the way he pleases. “You’ll work with me, you’ll understand me, and…”

“… meanwhile, I’ll get to know you better; more than those reports could ever have caused me to.” He, or rather his people, have been stalking you too. “I’m not fond of becoming close with people for personal reasons; however, I might make an exception for someone familiar to me. I’m sure you as well have heard enough of vitriolic prejudice…”

An unsure hand stroked your cheek, yet disappeared from it as quickly, before you were forced to look at the wounded man again, next instructed with a stern voice.

“For now, get back to work. Before that man actually kicks the bucket.”

You felt your sanity fray at the edges.

Just an FYI for those in the US with insurance issues

Dunno if I posted this yet but taking care of clones is not easy

someone post john cena suit gangnam style depression

hallway nap

Bring back anti-trust laws or have fun dealing with millions of boats sailing the open seas 🏴‍☠️

I pointed this out in a Discord server I'm in and thought Id share here:

Bob Iger announced that Disney is going to absorb Hulu, and Hulu will no longer exist next year. All shows will move to the Disney+ app.

Disney also announced they were going to remove shows and movies periodically from their streaming services.

I believe both of these moves are because of the Writers Strike.

Disney knows its going to lose the strike. There is too much public support. Specifically, the WGA is going to win writers getting more residuals from streaming.

So if Disney takes shows off of streaming, they dont have to pay the writers the residuals.

They are going to use excuses like "not enough funding for the server capacity" or "not enough views to warrent keeping the show". These are BULLSHIT. Its all greed. Its only GREED.

Pay attention to what happens in the following weeks.

And keep supporting the writers' strike.

Own you

God!yandere x y/n

Summary: you try to run away from a God, but underestimate his power

Warnings: blood, mentions of needles and knives

Word count : 0.6k

[before we start, I want to say that this god has nothing to do with any religion, it's my own creation and only for fun! It is not meant to offend anyone♡]

How could you ever think that you could escape? Don't you know that he knows everything, sees everything? Your human legs carry you the quickest they can throughout the forest. You have no idea where you are or how you got here, but you knoe he has something to do with it. You remember being in his weird palace and opening a door and ... suddenly ending up here. Wherever this is.

You're barefoot. The ground hits you like lego under your feet. The strong wind tries pulling you back to him, but you refuse to succumb. You have to keep on going.

The wind starts going two ways, capturing you in the middle. Your hair flows around your face and vocers your vision. But you can't give up. You can't submit.

Snow starts falling from the cloudy sky. It's summer, it shouldn't snow. You know it's all his work. And it's a clever one this time. Knowing your clothes are way too thin to keep you warm in a blazing snowstorm keeps you from running. You close your arms around you and continue walking. The icy snowflakes clash against your bare skin like knives and needles. It's not a friendly snowstorm he's unleashed upon you. You want to scream in pain, but if you do, you'll get the sharp snowflakes in your mouth and risk cutting your throat.

After a few minutes of walking, you sink down on your knees in the snow. Your legs can't carry you anymore. Sobbing erupts from your throat. Your tears freeze on your cheeks. You look down and notice how your skin has gotten marks after the harsh snoflakes. What were they made of? Glass shards?

"Please stop!" you shout. "It hurts!"

You lay down with your face down and arms over your head to protect your eyes. You can't move anymore. It hurts too much and your body is too cold and weak. All you can do is cry in pain.

"Learned your lesson?"

You peak up and see the godly figure standing in the middle of the storm. He looks down at you, golden eyes scanning you. He kneels down and places his warm hand on your cheek, melting the frozen tears. You lift your cold, trembling hands and place them on his chest, needing warmth. He can regulate his body temperature to whatever you need. You can no longer feel your body.

He removes your hands. You try to protest, but nothing comes out of your mouth. It's like your voice has frozen too.

"You don't deserve my warmth until you've begged for forgivness and promise to never leave me again", the god says. "Do it."

"I-I'm sorry", you stutter and reach out for him again. "I'll n-never do it a-again!"

He tilts his hands and pick off a frozen tear from your cheek. he studis it and scoffs.

"How could you ever think that you could run away from me, human?" he asks. "I know everything there is to know. You didn't think I'd know where you were? You didn't think I'd find you? You belong to me, human and no one can keep you from me. I own this world and everything in it. I own you."

You start to lose your hearing. The god hugs you and lets you look for warmth in his arms. The snowstorm arounds you start to disappear and the summer warmth seeps back.

"Darling, look", the god whispers and nods up at the sky.

You look up and see a rainbow dancing across the blue sky. You can't help but gulp in adoration.

"I made it just for you", the man continues and kisses your temple. "I can give you everything. I can give you the stars. Literally. I will give you everything as long as you stay with me and never try this again. Now, let's go home, dearest. You need to rest."