[SIDESTORY] Morbit Oneshots (18+)

[skinstealer]

Magazines - 2020
Ringor Mortis, ????
CW: sexuality, homophobia, verbal abuse, physical abuse discussion
Wilson's collection is discovered.

---

“Unbelievable. Absolutely unbelievable.”

Wilson shrinks into his chair even more than he already has, watching his fiance-

Soon to be ex, probably

-pace around in front of him, whapping one of his magazines uncomfortably hard against her claws. 

“You are absolutely- I just cannot believe you. You hid this from me, right under my nose. How many more are there, Wilson?”

He doesn’t respond, doing his best to keep his eyes from leaking any more tears than they already have as she whacks the magazine against the table. 

“How many more.”

“...About fifteen or so, kept under the creaky floorboard.”

“...Unbelievable.”

“They’re not even...pornographic-”

“They’re practically nude, and- they’re nothing like me, Wilson! These magazines advertise themselves as having men, with emphasis on that!”

“They’re i-inclusive of all kinds of models, I’m sure there’s someone in there like you-”

“You’re sure.”

Oh, now I’ve gone and fucking done it.

If looks could kill, he would be dead five times over by now, at least. 

“I mean-”

“You’re sure there’s someone in there that looks like me, because you definitely seek out models that look like your fucking fiance, the woman you’re SUPPOSED to be MARRYING-”

“Please, the neighbors are going to hear you-”

“Oh, I bet they are! And they’re going to know all about your little secret by the time I’m through with you, unless you give me a damn good explanation as to why you’ve done something like this.”

She stares directly at him and it takes every fiber of his being to keep the tears from spilling out from all three of his eyes and staining everything. She wants him to answer but he can’t, anything but that, please, god, anything but this.

“Well, Will? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

“...I think I like men, Danielle.”

She doesn’t tear her eyes away from him, saying nothing for a few moments and waiting for him to say more. He takes a deep breath and tries to keep his voice steady, the shakiness sneaking in just a little.

“I...I don’t...I don’t know when it started, or how, I just, saw one of these magazines in the store one day, and I don’t even know why I picked it up, but I did, and I couldn’t look away, and-”

“Is it only men, Will?”

I don’t want to answer that.

“Will.”

“...yes. I’m sorry.”

“And you just...kept buying these. You just kept buying these, and lying to me, and kept planning to marry me?”

“I thought...I thought it might go away, or that it would be okay-”

“What part of this is okay?!”

“...or that you might do this, if you found out.”

She freezes, her face frozen in rage.

“What did you just say to me?”

“...nothing.”

“Will. What did you just say?”

A larger tear drips off of his face, finally escaping.

“I...I was scared, that you would yell at me, like this…I didn’t...I didn’t want you to yell, or call me names, or- or-”

“Or what?”

Don’t say it.

He shakes his head.

“You’re seriously holding that against me, Will? It was one time!”

Wilson can’t hold it back now, taking a gasping breath before going off, tears streaming off his cheeks, through his shirt, and off his tail and hair. 

“You CHOKED me, Danielle! That’s not...th-that’s not a one time thing! And...and I can’t just get over that! You choked me and c-called me a fucking crybaby for not wanting to sleep next to you for a f-f-fucking week, and now I...I don’t know! I don’t know!“

Now no one’s saying anything, and he reaches out to take the magazine out of her hand, nearly ripping it from her grip. The model on the cover is smiling up at him, and he recognizes him as one of his favorites- someone who always looked calm and relaxed. God, he wished that could be him, literally ever. 

“...I wish I had never met you.” 

Her words are bitter and biting, cutting into him like knives.

“...yeah. That’d...p-probably have been for the best.”

She walks past him on her way to their bedroom, bumping into him with her spiked shoulder and grazing his cheek. She had worked so hard on avoiding that over the years they spent together, but now, it was nothing to her.

“Take your magazines and get out. There’s that cheap motel on East Street, and you’ve got plenty in savings to live there until you can apply for an apartment. I’ll keep your stuff until then, but the magazines have to go. I can’t fucking stand looking at them.”

“...okay.”

He gets out of his chair slowly, heading for the door- only to hesitate.

“...hey, Danielle?”

No response from her at all.

“...Fuck off and die, please.”