[lilliferwashere]

From Chapter 3 of Sunshine and Saccharine :)

(I'm somehow only just realizing that I can draw for my own fic. Who would have thought lol)

A little doodle that is also from chapter 3.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62383159/chapters/159631705

[collenseward]

Masterpost

Warning: In all my english posts I use translator sorry

[Master post 2/2] (Not necessary now)

24/7 working with humans

★ Kevin thoughts his life was a mess until he decided to apply for a job, not knowing that week would change everything.

ENG version 》 [1] [2] [3.1] [3.2] [4.1] [4.2 ANGST] [4.3] [5] [Fearplay chapter]

ES version 》 [1] [2] [3.1 (Solo en inglés)] [3.2] [4.1] [4.2 ANGST] [4.3] [5] [Juego de miedo cap]

Calder POV 》 [ENG] [ES] / One shot 》 [EN] [ES]

Behind the paragraph 》 [1] [2]

#24/7workingwithhumans

The Moon and the Star

★ Charles knew that the world was doomed because of humans, but when he meets Mr. Dobouis, he might notice that humans are not as he believed.

Old version 》 [ENG] [ES]

New Version ENG 》 [1] [2] [3] [3.1] [4] [5] [6] [7]

New Version ES 》 [1] [2] [3] [3.1] [4] [5] [6] [7]

Diccionary 》 [:DDD]

#themoonandthestar

One-shots

★ Pearls 》 Who would have thot that the fear of losing someone would make you lose your mind? What if you had already lost your sanity when you met him?

[ENG] [ES]

#oneshots

The Rose's Marionette

★ What could love do for that poor enamored one? Maybe he is aware of being manipulated for life (Continuous warnings in each chapter)

Old sketch 》 [???]

Short parts ES 》 [1/No hay :c] [2]

Short parts ENG 》 [1] [2]

#therose'smarionette

[zannaaaaaaahh]

I wonder what it feels like to have a Nox on your head 24/7 🧐

[loirendormi]

Zoologist who has been effectively shunned from their field for obsessively seeking out "hidden species". Now, they live alone, far from any neighbors or influences that could remind them of their past. Or they thought they did at least. Recently, they've found several signs of a presence in the house, and not that of an infestation or a rodent. No, the things they've found are too civilized. Small pieces of food taken off with a tool rather than teeth, scratches that appear to be made with the purpose of distinguishing certain areas of the house rather than out of instinct.

Borrower who has been living in the walls of a house rather peacefully until they notice certain developments. Their human has become more aware, excitable. Odd, considering their usual nature of despondence. It's not until they have the misfortune of seeing the human uncover one of their secret entrances that they realize what has caused this change in mood. They need to leave now, but the human is being more attentive than ever. So, they stay, ceasing their trips out, attempting to survive on what little they have left. They lose sleep, too afraid to close their eyes for a prolonged period of time. Eventually, hunger wins out, forcing them to make a quick supply run. Unfortunately, a lack of sleep and trying to be aware of your surroundings don't mix, leading them right into a trap.

The human finally catches them and... oh, they look awful. They can't possibly present them like this. Hair matted, dark circles under their eyes, skin in poor condition, malnourished. It would be a disgrace. They've waited so long for evidence, a way to finally prove that they were right, now it seems they'll have to wait a little longer. Everything should be perfect, just as they had imagined.

Reluctantly, impatiently, the human takes the time to nurse them back to relatively good health. They make sure the borrower is eating a balanced diet, drinking water, and getting enough sleep. They brush their hair and fix up their clothes, even when they squirm and struggle all the while. Slowly but surely, the borrower's health improves. The entire time, the borrower is scared, not just for themself, but their species as a whole. They know what their captor does did for a living, they know what could happen if things all go according to the human's plan. Fortunately, the borrower has learned a lot from living in this human's walls, about animal behavior and specifically about how certain animals imprint. Slowly, they tone down any escape attempts. They've already been a captive audience during the human's earlier rants, but now they listen, adding a sympathetic comment here and there. Eventually, when the human starts asking for input, they cock their head to the side before answering softly. Trying to play up the "cute and helpless" angle as much as they can.

After the borrower feels that they've built up a good enough rapport, they make contact. It's winter now, snow falling with force. They feign being cold enough to snuggle into the human's hand for warmth while they're writing up some report or another. The human pauses, freezing, before slowly reciprocating, curling their fingers around the borrower much more gently than they would have previously. Time passes and the human makes no mention of an exhibition, no word of revealing their discovery. They ask the borrower more questions, not about their species, but them specifically. What sorts of things they enjoy–food, clothes, colors, weather. They get a lot less vigilant as well. Placing the borrower down on surfaces that they could conceivably climb down, allowing them useful objects if they ask.

One day, the human leaves. Whether it's to get supplies or meet with a distant friend in town, the borrower doesn't care. They never leave the house. An opportunity like this isn't likely to come again soon. They quickly grab the bare minimum of supplies before leaving this wretched place, hopefully for good. It's still cold out, growing even colder as the sun hides under the treeline. Then, a new, more direct light replaces the warmth of the sun, this one providing no comfort. A flashlight. They failed, of course they did. Escaping into the forest in the middle of winter would have been a death wish even if they had made it far enough away without capture. But they hadn't been able to help themself. It had been so stifling living there, so suffocating. They look up into the blinding gleam, the knowledge of who was behind it making dread pool in their gut.

"I-" Their teeth clatter together in response to the extreme cold, "I missed you."

The lie won't work, they knew it wouldn't. The human picks them up without formality, slowly wading through the snow, back toward the house. They set them down roughly on a high shelf. They look mad, but also... genuinely hurt? The human paces back and forth while the borrower watches, for once, unsure of what to say. They don't know what could calm them down and what might set them off.

From the human's viewpoint, this makes no sense. The two of them were getting along. They had dropped the plan to reveal them, they were being nice, being gentle. Sure, there were times where they noticed an odd flinch or fearful look or the borrower tensing when the human initiated contact, but that was all to be expected for such a timid thing. The poor creature must have just been confused, yes, that's the best explanation. They had left the moment they were out of the human's sight, so clearly they need more attention, a bit more structure perhaps.

After that day, the human doesn't yell or berate them, concerned that it may only stress their companion further. They are much more clingy, rarely putting the borrower down when not strictly necessary. Once enough time has passed and their behavior has remained consistently vigilant, the borrower works themself up to directly request more freedoms–that they be set down, wanting a bit of alone time. The human smiles sadly, reminding them, "You know why we can't do that". They are still kind to the borrower, as much as you can be kind to someone you've been holding against their will. There's something unspoken underlying their confinement now. They stare at the bedroom ceiling at night, still unable to stop themself from tensing at the echo of deep breaths next to them. It's then that the borrower starts to think that maybe trying to imprint with something so starved of touch and attention was not the best idea.

[awed-frog]

when you’re trying to write and your last two functioning brain cells start yelling at each other

[gulpercatfish]

A giant getting bored and licking/nibbling their tiny friend for the first time and them both having a mini crisis afterward, bc they both enjoyed what just happened?

Ahh I’ve been getting so many asks lately and it makes me so happy 🥹💖 I’m working through them little by little, so please feel free to send yours too — I’d really love to read it!

For this prompt, the original idea was “got bored,” but I wasn’t sure how to express that in a natural or fun way. So I tweaked it into an “overexcited accident” instead.

I hope it still feels fun to read! Thank you always for enjoying my little comics 💗

[sizebrained]

My G/T Story Scribbles

Art by the wonderful @guaxinimraccoon from the start of Unstuck Together.

***

After lurking for years in the g/t community — doing role plays here and there, consuming art and stories, and generally having that oomph feeling in the pit of my stomach with anything size related — I figured it was time to contribute.

I love size descriptions and all that but I've also rarely seen certain "realistic" elements blended into g/t stuff. So I decided to do it myself.

My writing is 100% human made and features adult themes, adult language, mental health challenges, romantic relationships, primarily LGTBQIA+ characters, bodies/nudity/kissing/touching, and desires (but no outright smut).

Rated R - Not for Minors and Kids - but SFWish.

Content warnings come with every story.

So far I have 3 g/t worlds.

Table of Contents and details for each below:

- Unstuck Together (finished & being rewritten/edited)

- Come Back Down (in-progress)

- Zoey's Size Shenanigans (one offs w/ a trio)

A Very Tall Order

Drop of Honey

Watch Your Step

It's Move-In Day

***

Enjoy and thanks for reading!

[solar-systems-venus]

Part two (⁠ ⁠╹⁠▽⁠╹⁠ ⁠)

Part one

Yes the drawing go from scribbles to almost something from panel to panel ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

James really has no bad intentions he just hasn't really grasped the concept that to normal people he does look well like a monster ofcource he would eventually understand that and probably not like the feeling of being seen as someone life threatening or dangerous or God forbid someone says he looks like a monster like what do you mean man (⁠´⁠(⁠ｪ⁠)⁠｀⁠）

[showrunnerihardlyknowher]

oh i'm sorry did you think the half feral deerlady nature spirit was gonna know what a "kiss" was

[misamy-art]

Hot chocolat whit chocochips ☕️🍪

No Angel was harmed during the creation of this image, he is fine 😋

[monkesumy]

He won't admit it, but he found it very cute :3

[shiney125]

[fieryarzen]

Harley, you’re gonna need a bigger boat

He wanted a fish, but got a grown ass man instead. Biggest downgrade if you ask me

[rosella35]

Borrowed Courage Masterpost

I’ve seen a bunch of other G/T creators doing this lately, so I’ll throw in my two cents ^_^

Borrowed Courage 

The shorthand premise: exterminator’s daughter meets size-shifting borrower boy in a world where borrowers have been discovered by humankind. 

Prologue: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Prologue-834187545 

Chapter 1: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-One-838199547?ga_submit_new=10%3A1587106144&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1

Chapter 2: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Two-839431838?ga_submit_new=10%3A1587878960

Chapter 3: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-3-850893266?ga_submit_new=10%3A1596503940

Chapter 4: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Four-851655892?ga_submit_new=10%3A1597130864

Chapter 5: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Five-864706499?ga_submit_new=10%3A1608689395&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1

Chapter 6: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Six-864856455?ga_submit_new=10%3A1608689369&ga_type=edit&ga_changes=1

Chapter 7: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Seven-873253297?ga_submit_new=10%3A1615771780

Chapter 8: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Eight-895233085?ga_submit_new=10%3A1634552261

Chapter 9: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Nine-903196065?ga_submit_new=10%3A1641647121

Chapter 10: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Ten-907920740

Chapter 11: https://www.deviantart.com/randomarthq/art/Borrowed-Courage-Chapter-Eleven-932549997

Chapter 12: https://www.tumblr.com/rosella35/749903651543416832/borrowed-courage-chapter-12?source=share 

Side Stories and One-Shots:

Kaleb’s Bad Day

Part I: https://www.tumblr.com/rosella35/746550913245822976/kalebs-bad-day-part-i?source=share

Part II: https://www.tumblr.com/rosella35/746650539759206400/kalebs-bad-day-part-ii?source=share

[ashtreegt]

[moodygirlzz]

ROWAN: A Fragile Balance

Warning: Mentions of death

This is a short story of mine you can find on Wattpad

The assembly had dragged on far too long.

By the time the students were finally dismissed, Rowan was more than ready to leave. He had slouched in his seat near the back of the room, one leg stretched out and crossed over the other, arms folded. His gaze had wandered up to the ceiling tiles, tracing the jagged cracks that spidered across the surface.

The detectives on stage—one human, one Vareshian—speaking into a microphone, had spoken for what felt like an eternity, using calm but pointed phrases like "precautionary measures" and "working together" to describe the recent disappearance of a human student.

Rowan had barely paid attention. What was the point? It wasn't as if their words would change anything. Still, he had pretended to listen, flicking his eyes toward the stage every now and then.

The school always had an assembly whenever a human disappeared, humans going missing more frequently in the past six or so months, Rowan had lost count of the disappearances now.

From the corner of his eye, he saw Sam, his only real friend, shifting in his seat. Sam was hard to miss: loud, bright-eyed, and always fidgeting.

Sam's eyes flicked to the human students clustered at the front. Most of them were no taller than a Vareshian's hand. From this far back, they looked like toys—frail, breakable. Rowan could see the tension in their tiny shoulders, their wide-eyed expressions as they clutched notebooks and whispered to each other.

It wasn't supposed to be like this. Their town prided itself on its integration, on the careful balance they'd struck between humans and Vareshians. It was a point of pride for both communities, a rare success story in a world full of divisions. Now, another missing human student was threatening to unravel it all.

"I don't like this," Sam muttered under his breath, leaning close to Rowan. "The way they're talking around it. Everyone knows they think it's a murder. Just say it already."

Rowan tilted his head,. "They're trying to keep it clean. No point spooking everyone, right?"

"I guess so~" Sam frowned, turning his attention back to the stage.  

—

Now as he walked beside Sam, who was chattering nonstop as usual. Sam always seemed to be buzzing with energy, even when the rest of the world was drained. His hands moved as he talked, gesturing wildly as if the force of his words needed a visual aid.

Rowan kept his hands in his pockets, hunched against the chill in the air. Sam had been his only real friend since middle school, ever since they'd sat next to each other in history class and bonded over a shared disdain for group projects. Sam had a quick wit, a bright smile, and a sharp tongue that he wielded without hesitation. He was also one of the few openly gay Vareshians at their school, a fact that made him an easy target for bullies.

But Sam never seemed to care. He laughed off the jabs, turned them into jokes, and kept moving forward as if nothing could touch him. Rowan admired that about him. Sam's confidence was a shield, one Rowan wished he could borrow from time to time.

"Did you see the look on Mr. Dunham's face when the human detective said 'possible foul play'? I thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head," Sam said, laughing. "I mean, come on. They can't just tiptoe around it forever. Everyone knows that kid didn't just wander off."

Rowan shrugged, his gaze fixed on the sidewalk. The cracks in the pavement formed a web of lines that he followed with his eyes, one step at a time.

"Like I said, they're just trying to keep people calm," he looked toward Same beside him, his voice flat "They can't have the humans rebelling against us Vareshians the second they start realising it's definitely one of us."

"Yeah, but it's worse when they try to act like it's not a big deal. The humans are freaking out, and the Vareshians aren't much better. The whole town's on edge. I can feel it." Sam's voice softened, and he glanced sideways at Rowan. "I know you don't like talking about this stuff, but... you think they'll find out what happened?"

Rowan tilted his head, considering the question. "They'll figure it out eventually," he said. "Someone always slips up."

Sam nodded, his expression thoughtful. "Yeah, I guess you're right. It just... it sucks, you know? Everyone's acting like this place is falling apart. It used to feel so... normal. Like we had something good here. Now it's just..." He trailed off, kicking a small pebble down the sidewalk. "It's different."

Rowan said nothing, letting the silence stretch between them. The wind picked up, rustling the leaves of the trees that lined the street. The shadows grew longer as the sun sank lower, and Rowan adjusted his hood, pulling it up over his head.

"You heading home?" Sam asked after a while. "I'm going to grab something from the store before I head back."

"No," Rowan said. "I think I'll stop by Lila's place."

Sam grinned. "Tell her I said hi."

Rowan turned down the quiet side street where Lila lived. The last hints of daylight bled out of the sky, leaving a pale lavender wash over the rooftops.

Her house, tiny and doll-like, was tucked between a line of hedges. Its trim was painted a neat cream color, with tiny shutters framing each window and a door no taller than Rowan's shin.

As he approached, he slowed his pace, mindful not to send vibrations through the ground. He reached the sidewalk but stayed on the road, his strides too long, his body too massive to fit comfortably onto the narrow pavement that humans used.

Lila was human

Lila was waiting for him on the front steps of her small home, her small figure wrapped in a wool coat and scarf. She stepped forward when she saw him coming down her street, her tiny face lighting up, hands pushing back at her brown locks from her face.

Rowan stopped a short distance from the house, dropping into a crouch so she didn't have to crane her neck quite as far to look up at him. The distance between their worlds always felt most tangible in these moments, when he knelt on the street and she stood on her tiny patch of yard. But they'd learned to bridge that gap.

The neighbors all knew Rowan. For three years, they'd watched him come and go, his broad frame towering awkwardly over the tiny houses, but his quiet demeanor and careful movements had earned their trust.

The older couple next door to Lila's house even relied on him now and then. When a storm blew through, they'd call him over to pluck stray branches off their roof or to clear debris from their garden. It was never much work, and Rowan never complained. It was easier to keep things simple, to smile politely, he was just a good-natured boyfriend helping out his girlfriend's neighbors so that he could continue visiting.

Lila smiled, the kind of smile that made his chest ache.

Rowan dropped to both knees, resting his hands on his thighs. Even like this, he was huge compared to her, his shadow stretching across the neatly trimmed grass.

"Hey," he said softly, trying not to let his voice carry. He gestured with his hand, and without hesitation, Lila stepped onto his palm. She moved so lightly that he barely felt her weight, but her presence was unmistakable. The warmth of her body, the way her scarf fluttered as she settled down, sent a familiar ripple of calm through him. He lifted her carefully, bringing her up to his eye level.

"Hey," she replied, her voice bright but quiet. She adjusted her scarf, glancing down at the street below. "You're late."

"Sorry," Rowan murmured. "Got caught up at school." He shifted his knees, trying to balance on the uneven pavement. "How was your day?"

"Long," Lila said, settling herself comfortably in his hand. She tucked her knees up slightly, her hands resting in her lap. "Yours?"

He glanced toward the small streetlight down the block, its light flickering against the encroaching night. "Assembly. Some detectives came. Talked about... everything that's been going on."

Lila's smile faded. "What did they say?"

"Not much," Rowan replied, tilting his head so his hood slipped back slightly. "Just the usual stuff—be careful, don't go anywhere alone, report anything suspicious."

She leaned forward, gripping one of his fingers. "It's scary," she said. "No one's saying it outright, but everyone's thinking it. If it was foul play, then—" She stopped herself, looking down at her hands.

Rowan shifted his weight again. The street felt too small. The human sector's streets were narrow and delicate, designed for their small frames. He could never walk the pavement without stepping into someone's path or stepping over a car, his presence turning the quiet neighborhoods into something fragile and uneasy.

His movements always felt deliberate and overly careful, like a predator trying not to scare its prey. The roads were better, but even there, every step reminded him that he didn't belong. It made visits like this more awkward than he liked to admit. He wished Lila would just come to his house, it was less awkward having her come to his house. But she enjoyed his visits, so he would continue these visits.

"Hey," he said, keeping his voice low. He brought her closer, so she could see his face. "It's okay."

Lila glanced up at him, "I know. It's just... this town always felt safe. And now..."

"It still is," Rowan said, his tone firmer. "You're safe."

She studied him for a moment, then let out a small sigh. "Thanks," she whispered, her fingers reaching out to briefly touch his thumb

Rowan hesitated, then leaned his face down slightly. His lips brushed against her small cheek, a quick, careful kiss trying not to overwhelm her. She laughed softly, pushing at his oversized lips. "You're ridiculous," she said, tilting her head to look up at him again.

"Yeah," Rowan said, a faint smile touching his lips. "Guess I am. I couldn't help myself"

Lila smiles, leaning into his fingers and humming. Her cheeks were pink, even still after three years she got flustered whenever he kissed her.

They stayed like that for a while longer, her small figure nestled in his hand as he sat hunched on the street. The faint hum of a small passing car reached them from several blocks away, a reminder of how quiet everything had become.

Finally, Lila shifted, her weight shifting in his palm. "I should probably head inside."

Rowan nodded and lowered her carefully back to the porch. She stepped off his hand, giving him a brief touch on the side of his thumb as if to say goodbye, "I love you"

"Love you too" He stayed crouched there for a moment longer, watching her climb the steps and disappear inside. The light in her tiny window flicked on, casting a faint golden glow over the hedges. With a long breath, Rowan stood, tugged his hood back up, and turned to walk down the small empty road.

Rowan left Lila's house just as the last faint streaks of light slipped below the horizon. He stuffed his hands into his hoodie pockets and walked in the middle of the road. It wasn't like he had much of a choice; the sidewalks in the human sector were barely wide enough for his foot, let alone his full stride. He'd gotten used to the looks whenever he came through here, the curtains twitching in the little houses, the humans craning their necks to see the Vareshian boy who stuck out like a sore thumb.

Some waved at him as he passed, familiar faces who had grown used to seeing him walk through the human sector, always taking the same roads.

He nodded back out of habit, his steps even, his posture calm. But the streets felt quieter now, windows darkened, doors shut tight. Humans were keeping to themselves, wary and tense, their routines disrupted by the recent disappearances. Where once there had been neighbors chatting on porches or children playing in the yard, there were only drawn curtains and the occasional glint of an eye peering out through a gap in the blinds. Rowan walked on, his pace unchanging, the silence settling around him like a second skin.

But it was late now, and most of the streets were empty. His boots echoed softly against the asphalt as he made his way back toward the larger parts of town.

He kept his head down, his hood casting a shadow over his face. The few streetlights that still worked flickered weakly, casting uneven pools of light on the cracked road. He moved with an easy, practiced rhythm, his long legs eating up the ground. If anyone was watching, they'd see nothing unusual—a tired high school senior heading home after visiting his girlfriend. That's all it looked like, and Rowan was fine with that. It was easier when things seemed normal.

Rowan's steps slowed as he crossed the invisible line separating the human sector from the Vareshian. The streets widened here, the buildings taller, doorways broad enough for his kind to enter without hunching or checking where they stepped first.

The air felt different—still, but heavier. Rows of lampposts glowed softly, illuminating the broad cobblestone avenues that replaced the narrow human streets. He adjusted his hood, pushing it back slightly as he looked around. Here, he didn't have to stoop or shuffle aside. Didn't have to hop over toy like cars or apologise for accidentally stepping on a mail box. The paths were made for him, and his footsteps no longer felt like intrusions. It was a small shift, but enough to ease the weight on his shoulders, even if only slightly.

The faint sound of wheels on pavement drew his attention. He nearly missed it, the clunk of chains and wheels spinning on the pavement. His eyes travelled the ground, spotting a small figure moving toward him. Up ahead, a human man was riding his bike along the edge of the road, a steady, predictable pace.

The man wore a reflective vest that caught the light, making him visible from a distance. He wasn't in any hurry, just heading home, probably from a late shift at the factory on the east side of town taking a detour through the giant Vareshian streets.

Rowan slowed his steps slightly, letting his gaze flick around the empty street. No cars. No lights in the nearby houses. Just him and the cyclist, alone in the stillness of the beginnings of the Vareshians sector

Rowan walked a little closer, his steps careful and measured. His face remained blank, his breathing even.

When the man's bike wobbled slightly over a crack in the pavement, Rowan stopped. He waited, watching as the man steadied himself, pedaled a few more feet, then slowed to adjust something on his handlebars. He was standing now, then crouching beside his bike, partly turned away from Rowan.

The human probably hadn't even noticed him—or maybe he did, and was simply ignoring him. Just a Vareshian boy trying to get home. Why would he think otherwise? The street was quiet, the night calm.

The heel of Rowan's boot came down in a smooth, unhurried motion. The man didn't have time to react; one second he was fiddling with his bike, the next he was a smear of red and crushed limbs beneath Rowan's heel.

The soft, brittle crunch beneath his heel was subtle but undeniable. Rowan shifted his weight, pressing down harder, the sensation sharp yet satisfying as the crack split further. He dragged his boot in slow, deliberate motions, grinding the fragments into the pavement. The faint vibration ran up his leg with each pass, a dull, rhythmic scrape that grew softer as the pieces wore down to almost nothing. He kept at it until all that remained was a rough smudge, blending into the uneven texture of the asphalt, his boot perfectly still once more.

The bicycle clattered sideways, bent and twisted under the weight. It was quick, almost reflexive, like scuffing out a mark on the ground. The blood spread into a streak beneath the boot, a dark stain against the dull gray of the road.

Rowan stood there for a moment, head still down, his shoulders relaxed. He didn't glance around—there was no need. He'd made sure he was alone before he even started walking this route. He didn't think much about the man, or the bike, or the growing speck of red.

He stepped back, the sole of his boot leaving a faint, wet print with every step down the street. His strides remained steady, unbothered, as if he'd simply squashed a bug that had been in his way.

Rowan paused under a flickering streetlamp. At the top of his Vareshian street, Rowan glanced down at the bottom of his boot, the dark smear on the sole catching the faint glow of the streetlamp.

"Shit" He stepped onto a patch of grass growing along the curb and dragged his foot slowly back and forth. The damp blades brushed away the worst of it, leaving streaks in the dirt. He kept at it until the stain was faint enough to ignore, then straightened up and adjusted his hood, his hands sliding back into his pockets.

It was dark now the sun having disappeared completely beneath the horizon

By the time he reached his house, his mother was already in the kitchen, washing dishes.

She looked up as he entered, "hey sweetheart, at Lila's again?"

"Hey mum. Yeah, I was.." He kicked off his boots just inside the door, he reached down to grab them, careful not to let the dirt scatter across the floor.

Without further explanation, he headed to the bathroom. The door clicked shut behind him, and he turned on the light. His reflection in the mirror looked back at him—tired, shadowed, but otherwise unremarkable. He reached under the sink and pulled out the bleach and a scrub brush. The scent of the chemicals filled the small room as he crouched down, scrubbing the bottom of his boot with slow, deliberate strokes. His hands moved mechanically, his face blank.

When he was done, he rinsed the boot, watching the stained water swirl down the drain.

Rowan stood, rinsing the brush with more bleach and then placed the brush and bleach back under the sink. As he left the bathroom, the house was silent, the only sound his bare feet on the wooden floor.

He passed his mother again without a word and made his way to his room. Once there, he closed the door, leaned against it, and closed his eyes. The darkness pressed against him, a quiet, suffocating weight. He stayed like that for a long time, his breath slow and even.

Rowan lay sprawled on his mattress, one arm tucked behind his head, the other resting across his chest. The dim light of the streetlamp outside his window filtered through the blinds, casting pale streaks across his ceiling. He stared upward, his breathing slow, his room heavy with quiet. Thoughts of Lila lingered, delicate and fleeting.

Rowan rolled onto his side, the mattress creaking under his weight. He reached for his phone on the bedside table, its screen glowing softly as he unlocked it.

His fingers moved quickly, typing out a short message to Lila: I love you. Wish you were here x

He stared at the words for a moment before hitting send, the familiar blue bubble popping up on the screen. Placing the phone back down, he lay still again, the weight of his quiet room pressing in around him.

He could see her tiny figure on his palm, the warmth of her body against his skin, the way she'd smiled up at him before turning to go inside. It was a good memory, one that made him sigh in the stillness of his room.

But it was never just that. It couldn't be.

The image shifted, unbidden. He imagined her in his hand again, but not like before. Her little legs dangled over his fingers, her head resting against his thumb. This time, though, he wasn't holding her gently. His fingers tightened, pressing into her sides until she squirmed. The thought took on an almost physical weight—her breath catching, her voice a high, panicked squeak as his grip grew firmer. He could feel her struggle, the way her body resisted before giving in entirely. There was a sickly, surreal satisfaction to it, as if the power of it all belonged to someone else, not him.

His eyes closed, but the imagery didn't stop. He saw her tiny, fragile frame caught between his fingertips. Or maybe she wasn't in his hand anymore. Maybe she was pressed to his lips, her form disappearing between them. His jaw tightened slightly as the thought came—her little body swallowed whole, her struggles vanishing into silence.

It was quick, and when it was over, the quiet returned, leaving nothing behind.

No proof, no memory. Just him, lying in bed, staring at the ceiling.

The idea was as fleeting as it was dark, flaring up and then fading. He took a deep breath, his chest rising and falling slowly. The ceiling above him was still the same—cracked paint, faint shadows dancing across it. He blinked a few times, willing the images away. They dissolved like smoke, leaving only the memory of Lila as she was: small, smiling, warm in his hand. He sighed again, softer this time, and shifted on the mattress.

Some things weren't meant to be lingered on.

Three years. That's how long he'd been with Lila, and she believed every minute of it was real. But even now, lying alone in the dark, he couldn't muster guilt for using her. It was simple, really. What kind of monster would stay in a committed relationship for that long—tender moments, inside jokes, public affection—if they had something to hide?

Surely a Vareshian who smiled as he held his tiny girlfriend in his hand couldn't be the same person responsible for the missing humans. The thought almost made him laugh, low and quiet, as he shifted on the mattress. Three years, and not once had anyone questioned him. She was his alibi, his excuse, his shield.

No one looked past that. No one ever would.

His attention turned to his phone again as the screen lit up with her name.

From Lila: Love you too! Wish I was there. How about I stay at yours tomorrow?

..

Everything okay?

Rowan read the message a few times before typing out a simple reply, reassuring

Yeah, just tired and missing you. Sounds good. I'll pick you up after class and hits send.

[lilliferwashere]

Made some YA style covers from my existing art. As a treat. And as shameless self promo.

Sunshine & Saccharine: https://archiveofourown.org/works/62383159

Moonlight & Melancholy (sister story to S&S): https://archiveofourown.org/works/64080451