#both the sweet moments and the killing moments

[codtrashsammy]

Cute Meet?

Started as a kinda character study and idk what happened, i'ma be honest. I haven't written anything with length in awhile, so feel free to leave cc and let me know what you think <3 Just a cute meet kinda scenario, reader is an anxious lil thing and Simon 'Ghost' Riley is obsessed upon first glance. Love? No, not yet.. but obsessed, yes. Word Count: 1.3K Pairing: Simon Riley x Reader/You Warnings: No warnings, no use of y/n tho Enjoy :))

Ghost is the keeper. Ghost is stoic, cold, even apathetic. Ghost can kill a whole platoon without batting an eye, can be covered in the blood of his enemies and be entirely uncaring to watch it flow down the drain once he has enough time to scrub the caked blood from where it seeped through his clothes. He is in charge, able to control his emotions effortlessly, able to lead. He is everything he needs to be. And then there’s Simon. Ghost is the keeper. Simon is the man beneath the mask who needs one. Simon is more akin to a stray dog than a human at times. Face hidden from the world, yet teeth always barred and ready to bite. Hidden behind a mask, a carefully crafted mask that is Ghost. A man with more scars than flesh, a man with more trauma than peace, a man who simply longs for the normalcy of life without a way to reach it. And then came you.

Ghost couldn’t care less for you. The mask is on as he’s on leave, shopping in a grocery store to get something to eat on while he stays in that damned motel for the next couple of weeks before flying out once more. The mask stays in place, a protection, a show the keeper is in charge. You don’t mean to run into him, you’re definitely not the type to go looking for trouble- you’ve had enough of that in your life, and you’re just starting to get your shit together for the nth time. But as you’re both leaving, you stumble, bumping right into him and leaving a couple of his poor bags strewn about on the sidewalk rather than carefully held within each hand. “Fuckin’ ‘ell,” Ghost grumbles with a sigh, clearly not pleased by the circumstances while watching a can of beans he had bought simply roll off of the sidewalk area and into the road- promptly ran over by a vehicle looking to park. No beans and toast now, british man. “I am so sorry-” You immediately apologize, the sheepish and embarrassed look on your face obvious as you dust yourself off and try to begin gathering the mess that you had caused. Ghost is annoyed at you. Just one look and he’s annoyed. But Simon? Simon is enchanted. The sweet, sheepish smile on your face, the way you scramble to help, the heat to your cheeks in your embarrassment as you scatter around trying to fix the situation. The way your hair falls and how you’re clearly nervous, but you still act anyway. You don’t care of how he looks- all brooding and intimidating with his hoodie over his head and the black medical mask over the lower half of his face. You couldn’t care less of that- you simply want to make things better. Simon notices that though. Simon remains frozen for a few moments, hidden interest in his eyes as he watches you scramble about, resorting your things just to have an extra couple of bags for his things. And you just hand things back over to him, the sheepish smile still on your face, the embarrassment clear- but gods, you look like such a sweet lil thing, lookin’ at him like he’s a human, a person. “‘S fine,” Simon eventually spits out, taking the bags from your hands and glancing once more at the beans staining the roadway now, before turning to focus his attention back on you. He could let you leave now. He could, it’d be so easy. He could leave it at that and walk away, probably never hear or see from you again. I mean, hell, he’s only known you for all of 5 minutes, and it’s because you’re a clumsy little shit who fucked up his shopping. It’d be so easy so why does it feel so hard. “D’ya always ‘ave to make such an impression?” Simon quips out, readjusting the bags comfortably in his grip. You can’t even pretend not to notice his accent- it’s unusual for where you live, you don’t think you’ve ever heard anything like it outside of the media you’ve consumed. It’s pleasant, rings around in the ears for a bit. You finally meet his eyes, and gods, they are gorgeous. Deep, rich, brown- like chocolate with golden flecks scattered. Especially in the sunlight- like they are now- pools of liquid gold swimming about a chocolate river. “Ah- No- Um-” You struggle to find the right words, now your cheeks are warmer, and it’s less from embarrassment and more from the pretty eyed stranger you just fucking throttled on accident. But at least he doesn’t seem angry, so there’s always that. “I’m so sorry,” You settle on apologizing again, one of your hands moving to nervously run through your hair, pushing some strands out of your face. “‘S fine. Really.” Simon says with a slight nod, and you can feel the burn of his eyes as they trail over you. You can’t decide if he means it or not, though, he sounds oddly monotone for such simple words. “Still, I feel bad, I uh- I’m kinda clumsy at best,” You blurt out, sheepish smile on your face despite its softness as you glance away from him before looking back once more, “I uh- just wasn’t paying much attention to where I was going- a real bad habit of mine, honestly- which is surprising cause you’re kinda huge and hard to miss-” 

What the fuck did you just say?!Your cheeks heat up further, hands moving to gesture with your words now. You’re rambling, you know you are, but god did not give you the ability to shut the fuck up. “N-Not that that’s a bad thing! You’re uh- very well-built!” what the fuck you’re making it worse- “I-I mean- You uh- You have lots of muscle a-and that’s a good thing! And you have pretty eyes- always a bonus!” Simon’s eyebrow slowly lifts, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Simon’s been called a lot of things in his life- but he’s realizing at this moment that no one has ever called his eyes pretty. They’re brown. He can recall Johnny referring to them as ‘shit brown’ more often than not.  And you just look so fucking adorable- continuing to ramble, but he’s hardly paying attention to the words now, watching your cheeks get darker, your hands gesturing with your words, nervously shifting on your feet as you try to ‘save’ the situation. Such a precious lil thing, too pure for this world.

Simon was enchanted at first glance.

Ghost decides he could be, too.

A pretty thing like you? In this world? Oh, love, that’s just not safe. You’re a lil bundle of nervous, clearly. How’d ya make it this far? Who made ya like this? Unsure, rambling, nervous? Ghost wants to learn you. Wants to figure out what events molded you into this cute lil thing. You clearly need someone- he won’t judge, Simon needs him, too.

Ghost decides he wants to know you. Simon has made that thought known.

“You know what? I’m gonna shut up!” You finally say, voice a higher pitch and the heat being felt in the tips of your ears at this point as you take a step away from the masked man, who you know you’ve done ruined the chance to know with your inability to shut the fuck up.

“Tell me yer name before ya do,” Simon says, voice smooth like it’s the easiest and most casual thing in the world.

He’s so… quiet. He let you ramble and make an absolute fool of yourself- but now he’s actually wanting to know your name?

After you manage to knock yourself out of your stupor, you finally offer your name to him, cheeks finally cooling down a bit. Only to heat back up once he repeats your name in that voice of his, all low and gruff- says it differently than anything you’ve ever heard before- like it’s something important, something that matters.

“Simon,” He supplies, adjusting his bags in one grip as he offers a hand to you.

Simon and Ghost are two very different people who share this skin suit.

But they both decide you’re theirs.

#simon ghost x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #simon riley x you #ghost x you #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you

[animekpopsimp]

Honkai Star Rail Men as Your Boyfriend

Argenti

Argenti is a very passionate man, and that doesn't change when it comes to his relationship with you. He doesn't let his work keep him spending time with you, Argenti will always find time to spend time with you. He's always complimenting you, he won't let you forget how beautiful he thinks you are. He can be a bit protective, but he also knows that you can handle yourself. That doesn't mean he won't step in if you're in danger. Whether it be someone simply making you uncomfortable or someone actually trying to hurt you, he will make sure to defend you. Argenti loves taking you on romantic dates where he spoils you. Even if you tell him it's not necessary, he doesn't care. His favorite gift to give you is roses. He doesn't have a single love language, he likes physical touch, acts of service, gift giving, and words of affirmation. He's a very sweet boyfriend.

Blade

Blade doesn't seem like the type to be able to be in a relationship. He comes off as cold and heartless to most. But when it comes to you, you've managed to worm your way into his heart. With you, he still isn't completely expressive with his emotions, but he is a bit more soft. Someone like him wouldn't be expected to care for someone, but he does care about you deeply. Blade is the definition of protective, the moment he thinks that someone is even thinking about hurting you, he's ready to kill them. Even if you're more than capable of defending yourself, he will step in. Blade isn't very romantic most of the time, though he tries just to see you smile. Surprisingly, he doesn't mind physical affection, though in public he'll only have his arm wrapped around your waist. In private, he's a bit more touchy. He's both your scary dog privileges and a teddy bear.

Dan Heng

Dang Heng isn't as closed off as blade, but he isn't as expressive as Argenti. He simply enjoys spending quiet time with you. He isn't afraid to show affection in public, but he does keep it toned down when there are people watching. He's absolutely smitten with you, when the two of you are alone, he will shower you with compliments. His favorite way to spend time with you is staying in your shared room and cuddling. As long as you're there with him he's content. When the two of you are adventuring together, he's always watching out for you. He cares about you and wants to make sure that you're safe. He knows you can handle yourself, but he's ready to step in to protect you if need be. When it comes to his past, he does tell you eventually. To Dan Heng's relief, you only see him for who he is, not who he's a reincarnation of. It makes him happy that you don't tie him to a past that he doesn't want to keep himself attached to. He very much cherishes you.

Dr. Ratio

Dr. Ratio is the type of person that most people assume isn't interested in a relationship. Being in a relationship means you got his attention with your personality. He takes pride in being in a relationship with you and will brag about it. He subtly shows you off but will deny it if someone brings it up. Dr. Ratio isn't a very social person, but he's willing to talk to you for hours. You're the only person he likes.

Gepard

Gepard is a man of duty, and because of that, he isn't around as much as he would like. He does make time for you when he can since he knows you get lonely when he's gone. When he is away, he's always thinking of you, and he makes sure that he comes back to you. When the two of you are together, he's always close to you. He'll have an arm wrapped around your waist, keeping an eye out for any possible danger. He's also very soft with you, making you feel loved all the time. He doesn't care if his sister teases him for it, he's not ashamed to show that he loves you. Speaking of, his siblings fully support your relationship.

Welt

You and Welt spend a lot of time together, especially on the Astral Express. The two of you enjoy just spending time with each other in silence. You don't feel the need to talk to each other all the time, just being in each other's company is comforting enough. When either of you leave the Astral Express, you both worry about each other a lot, you keep in contact with each other to make sure nothing went wrong. When the two of you are together on an adventure, you have each other's back. Your relationship with Welt is simple yet loving.

Sampo

Sampo is usually a very cunning man, though he is willing to show you a bit more of his actual personality. He is still dramatic around you, always wanting to make you blush whenever he can. He's also worried that he's putting you in danger since he's made quite a few enemies over time. He's protective over you and he will keep a close eye on you when he can. He love language his gift giving, which he does a lot. Sampo wants to spoil you, even when you tell him he doesn't have to. All he wants is to make you smile.

#x reader #Honkai Star rail #Honkai Star rail x reader #argenti #argenti x reader #blade #blade x reader #dan heng #dan heng x reader #dr. ratio #dr. ratio x reader #gepard #gepard x reader #welt #welt x reader #sampo #sampo x reader #honkai star rail x reader headcanons

[shaisuki]

Can you please do Reo's reaction to pregnant y/n's death?

REVENGE IS A DISH BEST SERVED COLD

FT. YANDERE! HUSBAND MIKAGE REO

content warnings: character death, complications of birth and pregnancy, blood, suicide, talks about killing a child. dead dove not eat.

notes: i hope i did this one justice.

synopsis: you got the best revenge you can ever serve to him.

everything was a blur.

from the moment your water broke and the contractions coming apart since you insisted on walking around the hospital. a week from your due date and the baby is coming.

you were instantly whisked and prepped up for your birth. nurses and doctors surrounding you and you were like the fucking vip and treated like you were about to give birth to a king. it could pass as well. since you were going to be the mother of the mikage heir.

reo arrives within the first minute of your contractions. dressed in a medical gown and he's by your side. holding your hand and whispering sweet nothings to you. encouraging that you were both to have a baby and it will be done in the next minutes.

fucking asshole. he's babbling. this is how reo gets when he's happy. excited that you were about to give birth to his child and you wondered if this was really his intention to you in the first place. popping his heirs like they were easy to come by. he should have hired woman who were willing to be a surrogate or someone whose more than willing to give his wants and demands.

unfortunately for you. reo wants you and he wants he gets it.

the pain was blinding. your muscles screaming for you to rest. your eyes who can't stop the tears from flowing from how painful it was. the doctors encouraged you to push. the baby is crowning and you need to get it out. you muster what strength is left in you and with that flashes of light dances in your vision and your ears ringing.

it took a you a few seconds to register the cheers of the doctors and your baby's cries echoing in the room.

it's alive?

the baby's alive?

this couldn't be happening. the chances are high of you losing the baby so then why this damned child of yours have to live. does they want to suffer the same fate as you? why are you having this thoughts you were sure you were to suffer.

you make out reo's smile despite the harshness of the light in the room. he's all smile. you barely can make out the words he's spouting but you feel his hands on you. your head hitting the pillows once again.

this is it. he's finally a father. you gave him a son. a heir. he couldn't be more prouder than what he is feeling right now. he have a family he can call his own. he can continue his legacy.

he looks at you proudly. kissing you like there's no tomorrow but why are you frowning? aren't you happy that you're a mother now? what are you sad? why are you turning pale?

the machine beeps in a hurried manner. mimicking your heartbeat and the doctors surrounding you are in full attention. sweat drips in their forehead at the sudden beep of the machine. eyes wide at the sudden symptoms of one of the complications of birth they didn't think would happen. you were bleeding. soaking the sheets in a heavy flow that the doctors were almost shouting at the nurses to prepare the equipment to aid you.

what was happening to you?

suddenly you were aware of what's about to happen to you. your body aches more than usual. muscles turning weaker and your eyelids felt heavy. you can hear them. desperately trying to save you but you were beyond saving. it looks like your prayers were heard.

you would relish on the expression reo was having. horrified at the sight that his wife is dying on this table. you deserve it. you ruined my life and i will ruin yours.

reo sees you trying to grab him and he takes your hand in his. a smile plastered on your face and you pull reo with your remaining strength and then you began to whisper. the words that will haunt him for the rest of his life.

“this is your karma, reo.” his eyes widens at your confession. “you're going to lose me and i-i feel bad for our child, he didn't die with me instead he won't grow up without his mother and he would have a father like you.”

and with that, the futile attempts of the doctor came to stop when your heartbeat turned into a flatline in the monitor and you closed your eyes. forever.

it's finished now. you were gone. he drops your cold hand. the image of your laying in the table with your cold, lifeless body will continue to replay for the rest of his life. this should not be happening. he wants to scream to the doctors attending to you why such tragedy happened. to himself. you were supposed to be alive. raising his child with you.

he left the room shortly after you were pronounced dead. walking aimlessly at the hospital and his sight caught in the corner of his eyes are nurses tending to his newborn child.

he couldn't bear to look at his child for a second longer and that's how you get your revenge on him for the hell he put you through.

#♱ ⋮ shai's works⸝⸝ #chubby reader #blue lock #blue lock x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x chubby reader #yandere blue lock x reader #yandere mikage reo x reader #yandere mikage reo #mikage reo #reo mikage #mikage reo x reader #blue lock x chubby reader

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Congrats on 1000 you deserve 10000000 and I love you very many ♥️ for the requests:

J, mafia AU, smut, ring

You know how I like it 😉😘

Mickala!!! 😍😭💖

Thank you so much, I couldn't have made it without all of your lovely support. I'm so happy to have found you as a friend. Hope you enjoy my silly little Mafia AU!

Coup d'etat

Rated: E

Words: 999

Tags: Mafia AU; dark Eddie Munson; intrigue; blood and violence; bondage; nudity; explicit sexual content; consensual non-con

“Nice pool,” Eddie drawls, walking back from the patio into the house. “Could’ve made a bit more of an effort to clean it. I said to leave the place as you’d like to find it, Dick.”

Richard Harrington’s eyes scream bloody murder, but he doesn’t dare speak. Jeff and Frank have him flanked on either side, guns ready in their holsters, and Gareth is manning the door. Just a precaution. Harrington has been in the business for long enough to know he has lost. All of his most loyal henchmen are dead or on the run, and the more fickle ones have joined Eddie’s side.

“Aw, don’t pout.” Eddie pats the man's cheek jovially. “This is just how it works. Survival of the fittest and all that. Now, I believe that concludes our little tour of the house? Or am I forgetting something?” 

Harrington’s face twitches. Jeff laughs and rolls his eyes. 

“The bedroom, Eddie?”

“Ah, of course!” Eddie snaps his fingers, like he only just remembered. “Shall we, gentlemen?”

*

A giant bed dominates the far wall of the master bedroom. On the mattress, wrists tied to the headboard, is a boy. The soft, muted light glows off his naked skin. 

“Ah,” Eddie mutters. “That’s what I’m talking about. Turns out you can follow directions.”

Harrington says nothing. The boy, who stopped tearing at his restraints when he heard the door open, stares at him with wide, panicked eyes. 

“Dad? What- … Who are those people?”

Eddie coos. With a few long strides, he’s at the bed, sinking down onto the mattress. One of his hands finds the boy’s bare ankle, sliding up his leg to a firm, freckled thigh.

“Aw, darling. He didn’t tell you?” 

“Tell me what? Leave me alone, perv!”

The boy tries to shy away from his touch, but he doesn’t get far, bound in place as he is. Eddie chuckles. 

“Shhh, honey,” he scolds, cradling that pretty face with both hands. “It's okay. The name's Eddie, I work for your dad. Well, worked.”

The boy blinks at him, hazel eyes large and confused. Eddie laughs softly.

“See, the firm’s under new management. My management, to be more specific. I’m trying to keep it minimum bloodshed, so your old man’s gonna make himself scarce and I’ve agreed not to bother him. In return, I get to keep this fine house … and everything in it.” 

Understanding dawns in those pretty eyes. 

“No! Don't- don't touch me. Stay away from me.” 

Eddie makes a soft shushing sound and wipes the first tears away as they spill over.

“Oh no, sweet thing. It’ll be alright, I promise. I’ll take such good care of- wait a sec.” 

Because one of his hands has just slipped up to the boy's temple, fingers carding through thick, chestnut hair - only to come away red and sticky. The boy flinches, but Eddie grabs his jaw, holding him in place so that he can comb his hair aside. There’s a large, bleeding bruise on his temple. For a moment, the only sound in the room is that of the boy's hitched breathing. 

“Dick?” Eddie growls. “Explain this?” 

“He fought back,” Harrington mutters defiantly. “What was I supposed-” 

Eddie has him up against the wall, gun to his throat, before he can finish the sentence. 

“Are you kidding me? Trying to slip me damaged goods? I should fucking kill you, you son of a-” 

“Eddie,” Frank mutters. “C'mon, man.”  

Eddie blinks. 

“Right,” he says. “Get him out of my sight.” 

Relief washes over Harrington’s face as the gun disappears from his throat - only to be replaced by incredulous horror a second later, when Eddie holds out his hand before his face, palm up. 

“Go on, Dick. It's traditional, right? A sign of respect.”

Harrington growls. His hands curl into fists. Eddie smirks, raising an expectant eyebrow. Then, quickly, as if the touch will burn him, Harrington bows his head and kisses Eddie’s rings. 

“Not so hard, was it?” Eddie calls after him as he is escorted out. The door clicks shut. 

Eddie's smile slips. 

“Shit, Stevie,” he breathes. He's back on the bed in an instant, tilting the boy's head with gentle fingers to look at the injury. “What'd you go and do that for? I told you not to fight.” 

“And I told you it had to look convincing,” Steve retaliates. “Was I just supposed to let them tie me up and tear off my clothes and thank them for it?” 

Eddie's mouth twists into a grin. 

“We both know that's how you like it, honey.” 

He leans in, claiming those plush lips for a long, filthy kiss. Steve puts up a brief symbolic struggle, but Eddie growls warningly and slips a hand between his legs, and his protests turn into the sweetest little moans. Eddie only allows them to part once they're both out of breath and Steve is starting to buck and grind in his hold.

“Everything went well, then?” Steve asks. His voice is hoarse and raspy, and he needs to stop halfway through for another moan. “The- … the security codes all worked?” 

“Flawlessly, you sly little minx,” Eddie murmurs. He bites down on the perfect stretch of that long throat, rolls Steve’s balls in his hand, and delights in the full-body shiver it gets him. “That old asshole didn’t know what hit him.” 

Steve lets out a breathy laugh, rolling his hips to meet Eddie’s touch. 

“Good. Now untie me, so we can celebrate.” 

“Oh?” Eddie smirks, crawling further down and leaving a trail of biting kisses all over the soft skin of Steve’s chest and stomach. “But I am celebrating already.” 

Steve groans. “Eddie, c’mon!” 

“Ah-ah-ah, Stevie. There’s people out there who think I’m gonna ravage you tonight,” Eddie tuts, grabbing the boy’s twitching hips and blowing a warm stream of air on that pretty, flushed cock. Steve fucking mewls. The sound is like the sweetest music. “Be a good boy now. Gotta make it convincing, no?”

More celebration ficlets

#steddie #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie brainrot #steddie fanfic #fanfiction writer #fanfiction #fanfic #my writing #hype's 1k follower ficlets

[separatist-apologist]

Fuck Me Up, Florida

Summary: Elain has some regrets- she'll bury them in Florida.

Read on AO3

Before:

Elain stood on the edge of her cottage, arms crossed over her chest. Maybe they’d taken things too far this time but there wasn’t room for this interloper, this stranger from an even stranger land. She and Lucien had lived in the swamplands for centuries—they would outlast the so-called witch seeking to take their territory.

But Lucien’s face…oh. He knelt beside her, head bowed as blood crusted over his golden skin. “You should go—”

“I’ll kill her,” Elain replied calmly, drawing forth the magic pulsating against her fingertips. She might lack Lucien’s ability to shift himself at will, to take on the terrifying form of the alligators that guarded the waters, nor could she rip out a throat with her teeth.

Elain could merely gaze into the future and reshape it to her will. 

The witch—Amarantha, they called her—was from another place with crueler, colder rules. Her magic was just as old, but twisted and dark and wholly out of place in the warm, sunlit paradise. Elain had seen how it ended, saw the witch crumble to dust, though when she tried to see how, the future shifted wildly into a kaleidoscope of color. 

The witch could be defeated. She would be defeated, if only for what she’d done to Lucien.

So Elain waited, dagger hidden beneath the cool material of her skirt, while Lucien continued to kneel beside her. He wanted to leave while they were still intact, but Elain refused. This was their home. She’d give it up over her dead body. 

“Is that so?” Amarantha purred, stepping from seemingly thin air. Everything about her set Elain’s on edge. She was bone pale, with eyes so black they seemed to bleed against the whites of her eyes. Her hair was the same shade of freshly spilt blood and around one long, spindly finger she wore a ring made from a real, moving eye.

Her dress slithered against the mud, silencing the once lively world. “You’ll leave over your dead body?”

Lucien’s head snapped up, tasting the iron tang of magic mere seconds before Elain did. Amarantha pointed at Elain, eyes burning with deathly amusement. 

“No—!”

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic,” Amarantha purred. Elain was frozen, trapped in a swirling mass of air. “She’ll be back.”

“Don’t,” Lucien pleaded. “I’ll do anything—”

“I want nothing from you. Only her and her meddling sisters. Let’s play a game…just to make it fair. I won’t kill her, little demon. She’ll be reborn and given one mortal lifespan. Bring him an offering of flesh as a sign of our bargain…and in return, if you can convince her to tell you she loves you, I’ll return her memories.”

Elain wanted to scream at Lucien not to take the deal. It was a fools errand—to rob her of her memories, to make her think she was mortal and then present her with a male who looked so inhuman no human would ever stand to be in his presence.

Say no, she tried to plead with her eyes. Feyre and Nesta would avenge her. Lucien looked up at her, face still freshly scarred, and shook his head. He knew it was impossible—a fools bargain. And still.

“It’s a deal.”

Elain took a breath.

And then she was gone. 

Now: 

She didn’t know how it happened. 

One minute Elain Archeron had been listening to Graysen go on yet another tirade and the next…the next her hands her bloodied and Graysen was laying there lifeless, eyes glassy and tilted toward the vaulted ceiling. If she wanted to be honest with both herself and God, Elain would have admitted that she’d simply lost her temper.

He wasn’t yelling at her. Not this time, anyway. Instead, Graysen yelled about immigrants, he yelled about his politics, he yelled until his face was red and he realized that the only person left to yell at was her. And Elain was simply tired of apologizing.

She’d wanted him to just stop. To give her a moment to think, to settle her galloping heart. Even when she slept it was never peaceful, never deep. She tiptoed through her own life, making herself small and sweet so as not to draw his ire.

She’d always been that way.

What had been different, she wondered? 

But she knew the answer to that, too. Two years of marriage—and two years of infidelity. She’d discovered it the week before when his phone lit up at three am, just in time for Elain to get up and use the bathroom. She couldn’t say what was different about that night, too. Maybe it had been the Georgia heat. Or maybe her body knew something her brain did not. Elain had spent the night scrolling through hundreds of love sick messages, and a hundred more that painted her out to be a frigid, standoffish wife who didn’t care about her husband's needs.

Any woman dumb enough to believe the tired story of the neglected married man deserved whatever she got. Which, in Elain’s estimation, was a man who yelled about everything all the time. He didn’t yell at that other woman, though. 

He called her beautiful.

Elain could still remember when Graysen had talked to her like that, too.

So when he started yelling, Elain’s patience was already shredded thin. There was simply no more good will left. She’d picked up a heavy crystal face and smashed it over the back of his head. Graysen had pitched forward, forehead slamming against the sharp edge of their coffee table, rendering him dead before he ever connected with their hardwood. 

She’d intended to turn herself in. That was the reasonable thing to do. Nesta was a lawyer, Feyre was married to old money—she figured she could spend a decade or so behind bars, even if orange did wash her out. 

The world worked in mysterious ways. As Elain was picking up her phone, 911 already dialed, her phone dinged a warning.

Hurricane Elaine scheduled to make landfall on…

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?”

Elain burst out laughing. Hurricane Elaine? Really? Surely it was some cosmic joke and yet…

“Hello?”

“Sorry,” Elain said, still laughing like a lunatic. “My daughter, she…sorry.”

The annoyed operator on the other end huffed out a sigh, assured Elain it happened all the time, and ended the call. 

Hurricane Elaine.

Elain was on the Florida-Georgia line, just far enough from the worst of the coming storm. It was a six hour drive to Destin, risky considering Elain had moved her husband's dead body to the back of his truck. If anyone noticed or stopped her, it was all over.

But if they didn’t…

Oh. But if they didn’t.

Graysen had a timeshare in Destin. It wasn’t much, though he was proud of it all the same. She’d never liked it, truth be told but in that moment, standing beneath a starry Georgia sky, Elain used their points and booked a week. It was the kind of thing Gray would do. He never wanted to evacuate, never took these kinds of threats seriously. Elain would dump his body in a swamp and then say the water simply swept Graysen away. 

Maybe it would take her, too.

Elain didn’t have a preference one way or the other, truth be told. She merely thought getting away with his murder was another outcome she could live with right alongside being swept away by the sea. She thought about all of it as she drove in the dead of night, amazed by the traffic trying to leave Florida as Elain tried to enter.

Every couple songs on the radio warned about the impending storm. She didn’t care. Eain was giddy by the time she pulled into the resort, careful to hide Graysen’s body beneath a tarp. It couldn’t stay in her car for long without risking being caught, not with the Florida humidity. She simply needed to check in to make her story believable, and hope no one bothered checking the security cameras.

“You’re brave, checking in,” the cheerful woman at the front desk told her. 

“Or stupid,” Elain replied with an easy smile. “My husband thought we’d have the pool all to ourselves.”

“Ocean, too,” the receptionist said before handing Elain the keys. “We aren’t required to evacuate but if things get any worse, you should.”

“I will,” she swore like a liar. All she needed was that key and a plausible alibi, after all. She’d been here, not committing any murders. Was it a crime to be stupid? No, especially not in Florida.

They could suspect her all they like, Elain didn’t care. She was free of Graysen without the mess of a divorce.

Would she feel grief once the dust had settled? When Graysen was nothing more than a few picked over bones at the bottom of a swamp would it all hit her? Would relief turn to misery? Would she lie awake in bed missing the warmth of his body?

Climbing back into her car, already warmed from the Florida heat, Elain decided she couldn’t let herself care. Not right then, anyway. Besides, if Elain was honest with herself, she was having a disturbing amount of fun.

Rolling down her window, Elain let the wind ruffle her hair like an affectionate parent as she grinned, cheeks pink from the humidity. If a hurricane was on its way, the world gave no sign of it. Though, Elain had turned from Destin to make her way toward a swamp that would become Graysen’s final resting place. 

Good riddance, she thought. This was where she’d bury all her regrets, her mistakes, her ghosts. Maybe herself, too, though it was too early to make that determination. Maybe once Graysen had been dumped and Elain was alone in the resort, hurricane winds pounding against the roof. 

Maybe. 

Truth be told, Elain didn’t want to mourn or miss him. Her whole marriage felt like she’d been grieving a man who’d died the day she met him at the altar. He’d once been kind and sweet, had looked at her like she was the sun and he was merely a frigid planet begging for warmth. He’d been the one who’d changed, who’d embraced cold so brutal no light could penetrate his rotted heart. 

Killing him had been an extreme course correction and yet…and yet Elain couldn’t find the empathy people had always praised her for. Couldn’t find anything but the knob of the radio and then her voice singing along, loud enough to be heard over the rush of the road. Nevermind that there was a dead body in the back of her stolen truck—the songs were all bops as palm trees became cypress and  mangrove. 

The air was thicker somehow, as if charged with magic. It was tempting to think that was just Florida itself and not her own delirious joy seeping out of her. She was nearly finished with the whole debacle. Her heart pounded as she pulled off the main road, tires betraying her in the mud as she crept deeper into territories unknown. 

This was the hard part. As Elain cut the ignition, she considered for a moment the absurdity of her plan. If it worked, it would be sheer luck and nothing else. There was blood in her apartment, tire treads in the mud, and a hurricane on the horizon. She ought to go back to her original plan and call her older sister for help. Nesta would know what to do, would be able to get her out of serious trouble.

Elain knew if she dumped this body, there would be nothing Nesta could do to soften that blow. There would be no painting Elain as a victim but the aggressor, the abuser—everything Graysen had been before she took his life and made him part of the Florida ecosystem. 

Elain took a breath before deciding fuck it. She’d come this far, hadn’t she? Might as well see it all the way through. Elain hopped from the cab, flats sucked into the mud so deeply she thought she might need to abandon them altogether. Managing to get her feet out of the mud, Elain pulled the tarp she’d half wrapped Graysen in from the back of the truck until his body slid to the ground.

The Florida heat was getting to her. Or, maybe it wasn’t the heat that was making her feel a little manic but the humidity—whatever it was, Elain let out a soft laugh before grabbing Graysen by his limp arms. She tried hard not to look too closely at his gray skin, eyes trained on the path ahead. Just get him the water, she told herself.

Television hadn’t prepared Elain for how heavy a dead body was. Graysen didn’t look like such a solid man but right then, Elain wanted to scream as she inched him forward, sweat dripping from her nose.

She was leaving DNA everywhere—if she didn’t get caught it was simply law enforcement refusing to do their job entirely. As she dragged him toward the murky water, Elain considered that she was merely digging her own grave, too. She ought to climb in after Graysen and let the alligators have her, too.

In the end, Elain kicked Graysen into the water with a heaving breath of air. He plopped into the green tinted water with a heavy splash that silenced the insects, if only for a moment. Shoulders aching, she braced herself against the sticky bark of a leaning tree, eyes closed.

It was done. She’d done it. There was no going back now. She could have turned back anytime before Graysen sank to the bottom of the swamp but now…now there was no way in hell Elain was getting in that water to try and drag him out.

She needed to leave. Spend the week in the timeshare at the pool until the hurricane hit and then…she didn’t know. She had no plan, no idea how to go about things and she was terrified to google any of it. 

Elain opened her eyes, surprised to find she wasn’t alone. A man was coming toward her as he pulled thick, auburn hair up off his face in a messy bun.

“Are you alright?” he asked, eyes gleaming. Three long, vicious scars cut down one strange, gold eye that didn’t match the brown of the other. 

Elain nodded her head, heart pounding in her throat. What had he seen? Mouth dry, tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth, Elain could do nothing but wait as he came toward her. He wore light clothing that looked far more comfortable than her own, the white cotton of his shirt sticking against the muscular contours of his chest. 

“What are you doing so far out here?” he pressed, eyes sliding from her to the water just beneath her. There was no evidence of what she’d done if he ignored the path she’d carved through mud and vegetation dragging Graysen’s body. And if he walked just half a mile toward the gravel road, she’d find Graysen’s truck parked, the doors flung open and likely filled with mosquitoes. 

“I like nature,” she told him. It wasn’t even a lie—Elain worked for the botanical garden back home and maintained her own in the backyard she’d once shared with Graysen. “I’ve always wanted to see a swamp.”

“Could have taken a tour,” he said, eyes twinkling. “The alligators are real aggressive out here.”

“They can’t be that bad if you’re out here,” she shot back, unsure why she was being so combative with this man. 

Something green glimmered beneath the collar of his shirt, inked against his skin. What kind of tattoo was it, she wondered? 

“I practically live here,” he replied as he came closer, hands jammed in his pockets. 

“You work in a swamp?”

He only shrugged. “It’s a living, right?”

“Well, if you’re not afraid of gators, neither am I.”

He came closer still. “There’s worse things in gators out in the swamps.”

Elain froze. There she was, in the middle of nowhere talking to a stranger who had appeared seemingly out of thin air. Her hair curled in the humidity, her face slick with sweat and yet he seemed serene. Unbothered by the heat, the heavy air, or their surroundings. Elain took a step backward.

“Right. Well I uh…should be going.” He didn’t try and stop her, seemingly amused as she made her way back up the path. “Watch yourself, Elain. There’s a hurricane coming, you know.”

She only nodded, turning her back on him to rush back to the car. She was too stressed to deal with the stranger in the swamp. Elain didn’t let herself think about him until she was back in the room at the resort standing beneath cool shower water.

Watch yourself, Elain.

Had she told him her name? Elain genuinely couldn’t remember. The stress of everything was getting to her—maybe she had. In that southern kind of way, a greeting that included letting him know who she was so he knew she was no threat at all.

Why not tell him what she’d done, too? Hi, I’m Elain Archeron and I murdered my husband. 

Make it easier on the police when they went looking for witnesses. She could have given that man the murder weapon had it not been shattered in hundreds of pieces on her living room floor. Still, Elain replayed that parting sentence over and over in her head. Elain, Elain, Elain. Why had she told him her name? Why hadn’t she asked for his? 

Should she have done something more? Assured him she was just a normal woman lost in the heart of a swamp she had no business being in? Had he watched her drag that body and merely waited to see what would happen? She was more concerned with getting caught than what she’d actually done, which also worried her.

What kind of person murdered their husband? 

She did, apparently. Elain didn’t think she was a bad person—just sad. Mad, too, that things hadn’t worked the way she’d wanted to. Angrier still that she’d loved him the way she had and in the end, it hadn’t even been good enough. She still remembered insisting to Nesta that Gray was her soulmate and their love was the thing of legends. It was love so pure, so perfect, so timeless that one day people would write books about it.

She supposed she hadn’t been wrong about that last one. Some true crime junkie would pick up this story and write about her. Would they call her a Black Widow? No, she decided as she laid there in the dark listening to the wind. She had no intention of remarrying, after all, and certainly wouldn’t kill another man. But they’d come up with some other offensive nickname for her, labeling her without really knowing her heart. 

Elain fell asleep easier than she’d expected to, though her dreams were confusing and vivid. She was back in that swamp, wading deeper and deeper into the water as something made its way toward her, gold eyes reflecting the moonlight onto the water. Blood—no, hair—fanned out behind the creature and when he raised his head to smile, teeth sharpened to a point.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he said, his voice cutting through the still night. Elain couldn’t move, frozen in place as he came further and further out of the water. The green on his neck, she realized, wasn’t a tattoo but scales and behind him, a tail propelled him forward just as surely as his legs did.

She couldn’t scream. Trapped in mud, Elain could only stand as he came closer and closer, water dripping from his bare chest. The opaque water obscured his bottom half which was for the best—she was certain she didn’t want to see it. 

He reached out to touch her, golden skin somehow glowing in the moonlight, and—

Elain woke to the sound of thunder, sheets sticking to her sweat soaked skin. The doors to the balcony attached to her bedroom were flung open and though it wasn’t raining yet, puddles of water pooled on the tile floor. Elain sighed loudly, palm pressed right above her breast in an attempt to silence her screaming heart.

It was just a dream. A nightmare, truly, borne of her guilty mind and her fear she was going to be caught. Elain forced herself to get up, grab a towel from the bathroom, and wipe up the water. This time, she made sure she locked the balcony doors so the wind wouldn’t blow them open before she crawled back into bed.

The nightmares were the same, though. 

And when she woke, the doors were opened again.

Unwilling to take it lying down, Elain went down to the front desk to ask if she could be moved. Her doors, she explained ruefully—if there was a hurricane, she didn’t want to deal with water flying in. The person at the front desk was far less sympathetic to Elain’s cause and though they didn’t say so, it was clear they thought she and everyone else still at the resort was an idiot.

She tried not to let it bother her. 

She needed to just stick to her plan. It was a terrible plan, admittedly, but it was too late to back out, now. Elain spent the day sitting outside by the pool holding a book in her hand, too nervous to read even a page. She kept waiting for the police to descend on her, led by the man haunting her nightmares.

There she is, he’d say with open accusation. There’s the woman who murdered her husband and thought she could get away with it. 

They didn’t come. Frantically checking the news every couple of minutes, Elain found more warnings of the tropical storm about to descend on them, found other stories of murder, but nothing about her. No one had called to check in on Gray—not even the woman he was having an affair with. Elain had his phone sitting on her bedside table, monitoring it for anyone who might be worried about him.

No one was. 

It was almost too easy. 

If it hadn’t been for the nightmares, Elain might have just turned around and gone home. Maybe that would have silenced her nightmares. Elain dreamt of the man again, noting the way the green scales seemed more repetilian than those of a tattoo. This time, as Elain waded into the swampy water, she found her voice again.

“Who are you?” she asked, white nightgown floating around her.

He offered her a truly terrifying smile, those teeth tinged red in the moonlight. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he told her again, his voice a haunting melody. 

“Why?”

He was close enough she could smell the earthy scent of him. It was familiar, somehow, though she was certain she’d remember if she’d seen him before.

He merely cocked his head, standing to his full height. Water sluiced off his body and though she knew this was merely a dream from her stressed out and panicked brain, Elain’s eyes dipped between his legs all the same. Now she knew it was a dream because men should only have one appendage…and this man had two. What was wrong with her? 

He didn’t seem concerned with her gaze—not amused nor offended. Instead, he stepped forward, reaching for a long curl between two long, strong fingers.

“Mate,” he whispered, reaching for her before she could stumble back. It was just a dream, she told herself…and yet it felt real. Elain swore she could feel the sharpened claws against her back just as surely as she could feel the warm water enveloping her.

“What about alligators?” she breathed, earning a soft chuckle from the creature holding her.

“You don’t need to worry about anything harming you,” he said, dipping his head to run his nose along the shell of her ear. 

“Because this is a dream,” she said, eyes closed.

Another laugh drew shivers up her spine. “Whatever you say.”

But it was a dream, even if it felt real. She knew she’d wake up and the door would be open because subconsciously she wanted to get caught. “What’s your name?”

“Lucien,” he replied, running a finger over her cheek. How long had it been since someone had touched her like this? Like she was special, cherished—loved? 

“Why are you waiting for me?” she questioned, deciding if it really was a dream, maybe it didn’t have to be a nightmare. Maybe she could enjoy herself in the privacy of her strange fantasies. Maybe the scales, which she found softer than she expected them to be, were representative of something. 

“You’re my mate,” he murmured. Hadn’t she just read a book about that? The men hadn’t been so strange looking—merely more handsome versions of humans, their ears a little pointed, their teeth a little sharper. Elain relaxed in his arms as she realized she was merely trapped in a strange dream about the men she read in books.

“Of course,” she said, amusement lacing her tone. He cocked his head, wet hair plastered to his bare shoulder.

“You don’t believe me.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Elain declared blithely, kicking her feet gently in the water between them. “I think I left a body in here.”

“He’s gone now,” Lucien informed her. Oh, how Elain wished that was true. “Who was he to you?”

“My husband,” she said mirthfully as she inclined her head toward the moon overhead. “He yelled a lot.”

Lucien’s grip around her body tightened. “Did he hurt you?”

“Not in the ways that matter.”

“They matter to me,” he said, and of course they did. Elain loved herself and this man was merely an extension of her own mind. Still, pretend or not, it felt good to have someone care about her. 

“It doesn’t matter anymore,” she told him, turning to look him back in the eyes. It was here she found those scars again and wondered what had caused them. Would her mind fill in the gaps for her? “Who did this to you?”

He chuckled, catching her wrist to press a kiss to her open palm as she tried to run her fingers over the grooves. “Another male was interested in my territory. He tried to take my eye, I took his throat.”

“How very vicious of you,” she teased. “Are you half alligator, then?”

“Simply put, I suppose,” he said, the amusement in his gaze sharpening to something she didn’t recognize. It was almost desperation that stared back, a plea to know something she had only forgotten. Elain felt the strangest rush of deja vu, though it faded into the night before she could grasp it, a balloon whose string was just out of reach. 

“What are you? Can I ask that?”

“You can ask me anything you like,” he told her, his voice dropping an octave. Elain felt a rush of want as he waded further into the water, clearly unconcerned with the lurking danger. 

“I am…” he trailed off, clearly trying to find the words before he turned to look at her again. Elain was tracing the scales adorning his shoulders and neck like tattoos, trying to remember the last time she’d touched anything reptilian. “Old, I suppose.”

“How old?”

“Old,” he emphasized. 

“You don’t look old,” she said, half laughing at how predictable her daydreams were. 

“I age slowly,” he informed her solemnly. “You did once, too.” “Oh? Before what?”

Skimming his hand over the top of the opaque water, he said, “You’re my curse, now.”

“How do you break the curse?”

Those strange, reflective eyes found the same glassy water they were floating in. He didn’t say, but Elain knew because this was her dream, her fantasy, her imagination. “It’s love, isn’t it?”

He looked so hopeful as he met her gaze. “Yes,” he said hoarsely. 

It was a dream. “You seem like you’d be extremely easy to love.”

Pressing his forehead against her own, Lucien exhaled softly. “Let me show you.”

Lucien brought them to the opposite end of the swamp, unconcerned with his nakedness or the fact that she was openly staring at him. Well, not at him so much as what was slowly rising between his legs—two appendages, one longer than the other by a good inch. Elain didn’t need him to explain how they worked, though she was curious as to the point. Surely, from an evolutionary standpoint, one was enough? 

Taking his hand, Elain let him lift her from the water, well aware he was just as fascinated by her form which was no longer hidden given the way her nightdress clung to her body. 

“What are you going to show me?”

Lucien didn’t respond. Instead, he grabbed her by the back of the neck and kissed her, sharp teeth grazing her bottom lip. Elain let him, reflecting that even though this man was a monstrous figment of her imagination, it had been a while since someone kissed her like they meant it. Like they wanted her. Maybe, she thought, this was some kind of weird metaphor. The only man who could ever love her was a monster, after all—just like Graysen.

Or maybe she was the monster.

After all, she was the murderer. Lucien was just a man she’d seen in the swamp that would one day testify at her trial while she remembered how they’d had sex in a dream. Elain kissed him back, surprised to find he tasted warm and sweet—like a warm, summer day. This was the type of dream she liked—the sort where she could feel pleasure without the endless guilt that seemed to fill her. 

She could taste blood in her mouth, slipping back into her throat as his tongue chased after it, kissing her with a frenzied hunger that Elain wished was real. The trick was not waking up before she came—Elain had never quite mastered that 

She knew it was a dream for sure when he lifted her nightdress, swatting her hand when she tried to touch his bare skin. 

“Just you,” he breathed, scales glinting in the moonlight. No man would ever, she decided as Lucien ran his own hands down her now naked form. It was almost like touching herself, forcing an awareness of her body that Elain rarely had. She didn’t pay attention to how it felt when someone's fingers teased her breasts or the way cool skin felt against her own. Or, she hadn’t in so long she’d forgotten what true pleasure could be like and he hadn’t really done anything. 

“What do you like?” he asked through a heavy breath of humid air. 

“I…” Elain was suddenly too embarrassed to tell him. Everything felt real—Lucien sank to muscular knees, his thick tail curling around the pair of them.

“Do you like this?” he asked in a husky voice as his forked tongue traced shapes against her upper thigh. To keep balance, Elain slid her fingers into his thick, silken hair. 

“Yes,” she admitted while he lifted her leg up off the ground, hooking it over his broad shoulder. Little ridges adorned his spine, flexible when her toe brushed up against one. Elain was fascinated with his form—more man than creature, but not human at all. She might have demanded an answer had that tongue of his not licked up the length of her.

Elain nearly toppled over, but Lucien wrapped a strong arm around her waist, pulling her closer while cupping her ass in one of his large, strong hands. He groaned with pleasure, the sound drowning out the screaming, watchful cicadas in the background.

“And this?” he demanded, licking again.

“Yes,” she breathed, head thrown back so she could look up at the stars. If she’s been more articulate, she would have told him that she liked it too much, and Gray had never wanted to do it. It took too long, he’d complained which of course only made it take longer. Elain was so self conscious every time he did go down that she never finished and often just counted to two hundred, faked it, and let him move on. 

“I need to taste you,” Lucien informed her, pulling her so close against him she wasn’t convinced he could breathe. She would have told him he was already tasting her if she’d been braver and less afraid that at any moment she was going to wake up and realize the whole thing was just a really weird, yet really good dream. 

Because it was her dream, Elain didn’t have to worry she was taking too long. In fact, Elain wanted to drag her pleasure out. His tongue was just rough enough to provide the smallest amount of friction while his mouth was otherwise soft and warm. Perfect, she decided with a sigh. 

She wanted to spread herself out. Maybe Lucien knew it, or maybe the ground merely hurt his knees. All she knew for certain was in the span it took to draw breath, Lucien was on his back and she was straddling his face, staring down the length of his rigid, muscular body. She wanted to touch him and so she did, spreading her legs as wide as she could get away with so she could lean against him.

Lucien moaned when she pressed a kiss against his stomach. Distracted, she half forgot what he was doing with his mouth. It was just…well, two cocks were endlessly fascinating to her. Why? What was the point? Elain reached between his legs and took the thicker, larger one in her hand. It was ridged, she realized with wild desperation. What would it feel like? Would her mind even know? Was she imagining this because she’d been shopping for vibrators a month earlier and stumbled upon some truly strange looking dildos? 

“Fuck,” Lucien panted, inclining his head away from her swollen pussy to look at her. “You don’t—it’s fine, just…just come here—”

Lucien put his mouth back on her with a vengeance, determined to distract her so thoroughly she couldn’t pleasure him, too. It was a game now, trying to get him off even as waves of pleasure began to build in her chest, threatening to drown her at any moment. Had anything felt better? 

Lucien writhed beneath her, prompting Elain to reach around for the second one and grip it, too. He gasped, breath warm against her throbbing cunt, before returning to licking circles around her clit. 

They came within seconds of each other—though Elain didn’t get to see any of it. Body throbbing, the sound of thunder crashing pulled her from her dream, body still roiling from her orgasm.

“Christ alive,” Elain swore softly, pushing the blankets from her body to close the balcony doors again. She knew she’d locked them before bed, had pulled the handles to be sure they were firmly locked.

Water was pooled on the floor again, her bare feet splashing in puddles as she made her way back to the ensuite bathroom. All Elain could think about was the man—the stranger she couldn’t stop dreaming about and his strange, inhuman features.

She’d nearly forgotten why she was dreaming about him. It was only after Elain had cleaned everything up did she recall that oh, right. She’d killed her husband and her brain was apparently trying to decode this information in the form of giving a strange swamp man two penises. 

Elain was going insane. Seeing things that weren’t there, manifesting her own downfall. Was this what if felt like to be haunted? Only, there were no ghosts—only her own guilt tormenting her while she slept. 

Elain shoved a chair against the balcony doors before she went back to bed, forced to lay on the opposite end because the mattress felt wet, too. Sweat, surely.. And the swamp man didn’t return, though when she woke the chair was back in its original place beside the window and the doors were open again. Outside, the world had gone red, the sky tinged with blood. Elain felt as though she’d manifested it herself, though that was pure arrogance to think she had any affect on the weather. 

Her phone was screaming at her to get out, pinging emergency instructions from the resort on where to go when the hurricane made landfall. Elain planted herself in her bedroom determined to see this lie through. It was the kind of thing Gray would do, besides—he never too much stock in the hysterics, as he called it. 

And she was so pathetic that she would have sat beside him and waited to die. Elain told herself she’d be fine, even as fear skittered up her spine. Sirens blared just outside and when she stepped toward the window, Elain could see the storm on the horizon. She took a breath, intending to go sit back in bed and try and read her book. Elain would have, too, had she not seen him coming out the sea itself, eyes trained on her bedroom window. He was merely a dot, a doll walking so far below her Elain was positive he couldn’t see her. 

And yet she knew he could. Wind whipped around him, blowing his hair this way and that though he didn’t seem bothered by it. Elain watched, mouth half open, as a palm tree was shoved violently to the ground as though a giant hand had pushed it there. But the man didn’t budge, kept walking as though it were a perfectly normal day.

Oh god.

Elain rushed to the door, locking it before making her way out of her bedroom. Where was she going to go? She turned, standing in the living area, eyes trained on the beach. The man was gone and for a moment, Elain consoled herself that she was just crazy. He didn’t exist, her mind had merely snapped and when this was all over, she’d check herself into an asylum. 

Elain looked away for a moment, turning toward the little kitchenette she hadn’t used. “You’re okay—” The glass shattered, sending Elain flying to the floor, arms thrown over her head to avoid getting hit by debris. Unable to hear her own thoughts over the wind, Elain tried to recall what she should do in the middle of a hurricane.

Cool fingers curled around her upper arm, hoisting her up into the air. Elain turned her head, horrified to find herself cradled against the half naked skin of the strangely scaled man. “You,” she accused, certain all this was his doing.

His smile was grim, eyes wide and round. He looked scared. “Me,” he murmured, his deep voice cutting through the noise. “It’s time to go home.”

“I’m not going—” the wind screamed as water pelted the pair of them, stinging her skin with each new assault. He didn’t seem concerned at all, ignoring the glass crunching underneath them as he walked her toward the bedroom. 

“We’re going to die—”

“You’re going to remember,” Lucien interrupted, tail swishing angrily behind him. He looked catlike in the stormy dark, eyes glowing like sunlight cutting through shadow. 

“You’re not real,” she breathed as he ripped her night dress in half. He certainly felt real.

“You know me,” he breathed, staring down at her. “You love me.”

“You’re a monster,” she replied.

Lucien grinned, betraying two rows of sharp teeth. “I’ll show you a monster.”

She tried to push him away but Lucien knew better. Knew he could have her if he wanted her—had already touched her, tasted her. Her protests were weak, silenced the moment his mouth was back on hers. He was real—they were real. She almost forgot about the screaming wind rattling the windows and pushing glass around the living area. 

“You brought me an offering,” Lucien panted, hitching her leg up around his now bare waist. When had he taken off his pants? “Tell me you love me.”

“What offering—”

“The body. Your husband,” he spat, eyes darkening at the memory. “Tell me you love me.”

“I hate you,” she replied as he wrapped both hands around her bare thighs and wrenched them open.

“Wrong answer,” he replied. Elain kicked at his chest as Lucien lined himself up not just with her pussy, but her ass, too. 

Their eyes met. “Does this feel real, now?” he whispered, inching himself forward just enough to punch the lungs from her breath. “You know me.”

“I don’t,” she replied as something metallic lodged itself in her nose. The world was ending in an explosion of air and water and yet a strange bubble seemed to exist around them. Words, just on the tip of her tongue, if only she could remember them, begged to be released. To finish a spell long since cast.

Lucien waited for a heartbeat, his hope etched over his features. When Elain said nothing, Lucien pressed himself closer to her, cocks intruding on her body like an old, familiar friend. Elain swore she’d never felt anything like it and yet her body stretched on instinct to accommodate him. Even when Elain wriggled, trying to create some resistance, her body simply allowed him to slide easily inside.

“Why two?” she panted, gritting her teeth to adjust to the feeling of being stretched to capacity. 

“I can’t impregnate my mate if she doesn’t feel pleasure,” he replied breathlessly. His hair fell like a sunlit curtain between them, his eyes bright and earnest.

“Lucien,” she breathed, nails cutting against his biceps. It’s you, it’s you, it’s you—but who are you?

“Yes,” he managed, pulling himself out of the sticky wet that was her body. Spitting in his hand, Lucien lubricated his shaft now halfway buried in her ass before he thrust himself back in and

Elain was forced to admit that it all felt good. Her back arched of its own accord, eyes rolling upward in her skull. The ridges lining his cock made each new thrust sharper, the pleasure brighter. 

“Our bond goes beyond marriage,” Lucien told her as colors filled her vision. “What we have is stronger than love.” His fingers stroked between her legs, rubbing tight circles around her clit until Elain was panting and writhing. She was going to come right alongside the hurricane bearing her name and then what? The windows would give way and the world would one day know of the woman who died because she decided fucking was more important than evacuating.

She didn’t care. Elain pulled him closer, running her hand over the flexible spines running the length of his back until she found the tail protruding just above the swell of his ass. 

“Please,” she begged, wrapping her legs around his waist. Lucien whined in response, sweat dripping down his forehead as he ran his nose along her own.

“I can’t stop,” he told her, pressing a kiss along the corner of her mouth. “If you don’t say it, we start all over.”

“I love you,” she said, half meaning it. What did hurt, she decided? He was so obviously insane and maybe so was she, because she was still fucking him, wasn’t she? Maybe this was what she deserved. 

Lucien’s pace quickened and with each new thrust a new memory came flooding through her awareness. A cottage on the edge of a swap, a cauldron filled with bubbling liquid. A male half hidden in the water, gold tinged eyes looking for predators as his red hair fanned out behind him.

Amarantha.

Her horrible bargain.

Elains vision.

“Lucien,” she said, fisting his hair so he had to look back at him. He recognized her words, the look on her face.

“You’re back,” he whispered, still thrusting into her though his rhythm slipped into wild, animalistic thrusting. 

“You feel exactly as I remember,” she told him, dragging her nails down his back. “What took you so long?”

“Let a man wallow for a century or two,” Lucien replied, kissing her again. “Come for me. Now.”

She did, though not because he told her to— because she was already desperate and close and Lucien was pushing every button she had. Elain tightened around him as Lucien babbled unintelligibly about how wet and tight she was. Some things, she supposed, would never change. The world would.

But not them. Never them.

Lucien came loudly, roaring over the wind she’d forgotten about. Was there a hurricane? Had she been afraid of it? That seemed almost laughable to her now. Turning her head as Lucien buried his own in the crook of her neck, Elain stared out the window coated in violet raindrops. 

For a moment, the storm was the only sound between them. 

“You borrowed my magic,” Elain accused once his breathing steadied. She could feel his come leaking down her leg, slipping between the spaces his cocks occupied.

“You didn’t know how to use it,” Lucien replied with a sheepish grin. 

Elain poked him in the ribs. “Is she dead?”

“Not yet,” he told her, gaze darkening. “Feyre drove her out a century before.”

“Let's finish it, then.”

“In time,” Lucien promised, withdrawing himself so he could offer her his hand. “Home, first.”

Elain grinned. “Home, then.”

#happy friday #elucien #vangator time

[weneeya]

Another request 👉🏼👈🏼

Depressed geto × reader , Their first meeting and their attraction to each other, and how geto finally felt like he could breathe after he felt happy with her and fell in love with her.

Saving his life

comfort with Geto

thank you for your request!! I'll try my best then <3 requests are open :)

The last few days, or even weeks, were pretty hard for Geto Suguru. Since the incident with his best friend and their mission, Suguru hasn't been the same. He was clearly overthinking all the time, and getting out was a real difficulty for him. He was doing the bare minimum, when he was able to. Depression was hitting hard, even if he refused to admit it. 

He was outside today, as he had to do some groceries. Nothing too much, but it was a necessity. Long black hair running down his shoulders, and visible dark circles under his eyes ; no one would dare even approach him like this. No one except you. 

He was in front of a display, looking for something, when he heard someone clear his throat. You were right behind him, with this soft look on his face, all shy at the idea of talking to him. You looked away, playing nervously with the handle of your bag. 

“Excuse me, can you help me, please? I need this, up there, but I can’t reach it,” you said, pointing out the thing on the top shelf. He looked at it, before looking back at you. He stayed silent, before grabbing the said thing, and giving it to you. A smile appeared on your lips, before you let his gaze again. 

“Thank you!” You told him, before slightly waving at him. In those words, you left to go back to doing your own groceries. He stayed there for a few moments before a soft smile left his lips, going back to what he was doing. 

After this, you met each other a few times. It was like fate wanted you to meet again and again. It was in random situations, and soon or later he learned your name. He wasn’t really in the mood  to meet anyone, or even to let anyone come into his life ; but you were so sweet, all the time. 

You were like a ray of light in the dark hell of his mind. You were constantly the only positive thing that happened in his day every time he was meeting you. You were just here, with your bright smile and your soft voice. No matter how bad he felt, it was always better when you were here. 

He wasn’t so sure about how he felt about you. It was a bit messy in his head because he was so lost with himself and his own emotions. But after some time, he started to see you voluntarily. In fact, he was asking you out for dates, but he wouldn’t admit it. He wasn’t ready to even think about a relationship right now. 

But you were, and you knew that you started to like him. Suguru was a man who was getting killed slowly by his own mind, and you didn’t want to let him stay in this hell alone. You wanted to help him, and he was willing to let you do it, then you would. 

Day after day, you were growing closer to each other. And finally, Suguru started to realize how he felt towards you. You were a new breath in his life, and he knew that he couldn’t get out of this alone. He needed help, and letting you get into his life would probably be the first step for this. This is why he decided to speak to you about it. 

He called you, asking you to join him in his own apartment, which you did without hesitation. You were a bit worried about him, because he wasn’t really letting you in too frequently. Something inside of you was telling you that something happened. You were glad to see that you were wrong. 

Suguru offered to come sit on the couch with him, and you did without saying anything. Both of you stayed silent for a few moments, before he broke it. He sighed slowly, before massaging his temples. He looked at you, hesitating for some time. 

“I wanted to thank you. You’re helping me, probably more than you would think, and I needed to say thank you,” he started, and you were ready to answer when he stopped you by raising his hand a little. “Let me finish, please.” 

You nodded slowly, and he pursued his words. “I think I’m ready to get some help, for real I mean. But I can’t do this alone. And…” He sighed one more time, rubbing his cheek as he was searching for his words. “What I’m trying to say is that I would love to have you in my life. More than this, I mean.” 

You looked at him without saying anything, processing what he had just said. You weren’t so sure of what he meant, or at least you were scared that you understood it wrong. You were looking into his eyes, before you finally answered. “Are you… asking me out?” 

He looked away, and you could see a hint of a blush over his cheeks. You took it as a yes, and a soft smile appeared on your lips. You slowly grabbed his hands, making him look back at you. “I’d love that, Suguru.” 

This time, it was his turn to process your words. He hoped with everything that you would say yes, but a part of him was scared that he would make you run away. And as you were ready to say something, he simply took your face between his hands to kiss you like his life was depending on it. 

It was only the first step, but he knew that with you in his life, nothing could go wrong.

hope you liked it!! I've done my best, sorry if it's not perfect :(

#geto suguru #geto x reader #geto headcanons #geto hcs #jjk geto #jujutsu geto #jujustu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen headcanons #jujutsu kaisen hcs #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk hcs

[charliedawn]

Can the slashers meet Eddie Gluskin? I am just curious you don’t have to if you do not want to. And have a good day or night😊

Warning: MY KNOWLEDGE OF EDDIE GLUSKIN IS ALMOST NONE EXISTENT AND THIS IS AN INTERPRETATION OF WHO I THINK HE IS. PLEASE. DON’T COME AT ME.

Eddie Gluskin AKA "The Groom"

- 46 years old

- Patient with OCD and post-traumatic disorder. Obsessed with finding himself a wife. Abused physically and mentally as a child.

- Very tall and muscular man, middle-aged, with a black slicked back disconnected undercut hairstyle which is neatly combed down and light blue eyes.

- Eddie's face is covered with red scabs, skin peelings and he has a severe case of subconjunctival hemorrhage in both eyes, the right more so than left.

Face claim for him: Cillian Murphy.

VERY DANGEROUS. APPROACH WITH CARE.

Once you read his file, you frowned as you learned that Eddie Gluskin had been abused at a young age. You already felt bad for him. You knew that the first thing that man would need once entering St Louis was to have his personal space as patients with post-traumatic disorder needed to be handled with care—especially the first few days. Hence, you decided to keep his arrival a secret from the slashers at first, as to not frighten him. You were walking towards the entrance with General McCain and a couple of his men when you were made aware he had arrived.

"Be careful. He has already killed two guards in Mount Massive Asylum not a week ago. He is a tough guy."

You chuckled and shook your head.

"Don’t worry, James. I know how to handle tough guys…"

James nodded with a small smile on his face before he opened the door for you and you entered the room where a handful of policemen were waiting. They were surrounding a man who was chained down to the bench he was sitting on. The man was quiet and his eyes were facing down to the ground. You took a few steps forward before making your way through the policemen to reach the patient.

You stood before him.

"…Eddie Gluskin I presume ?"

The man remained silent for a while before he slowly raised his eyes to look at you.

"…"

He didn’t speak a word. He just started staring at you before you smiled and decided to introduce yourself.

"Y/N L/N. But, you can call me Nurse Y/N. Pleasure to meet you." You extended your hand forward and Eddie Gluskin stared at it for a moment. You chuckled awkwardly as you realised he couldn’t really shake it as he was chained up.

"Oh. Right. Sorry about that. I—" You were cut short when you felt a pressure on your knuckles and your eyes widened as you realised that Eddie Gluskin had just kissed your hand.

…

He then looked up at you with a smile and finally replied.

"Pleasure shared…"

You blinked twice in astonishment before you quickly retreated your hand and Eddie simply smiled at you. Little did you know…You had just unintentionally became Eddie Gluskin’s next 'wife'.

———————————————————————

First time meeting the slashers:

Freddy *appears wearing a wedding dress* : "Heard you were looking for a wife ?"

…What did you expect from the simp master himself ? Of course he would shoot his shot. Eddie is hot. In the way that he is tall, muscular and could rip Freddy to shreds…Of course Freddy would simp for him.

Eddie likes him, but only because he finds him amusing. Eddie chooses his wives upon various very strict criteria. Unfortunately, Freddy wouldn’t make the cut.

Freddy *looking at Author* : "Hey ! What’s that supposed to mean ?!"

When Brahms met Eddie, they both did not really talk much. However, after Eddie spent a little more time around Brahms, he started finding his company enjoyable…

Let’s be honest here.

Brahms would be the perfect bride for Eddie. Brahms is sweet, attentive and touch-starved. So, Eddie would surely like him.

But, I think Eddie would also see him as a child so maybe he wouldn’t try anything, but they would hit it off pretty quickly as two very distinguished gentlemen.

Alpha male standoff.

Eddie Gluskin is the same height and bulk as Michael, which means in Michael language: danger. Michael is like the daddy of the slashers. He protects them. So the first thing that would go through his head would be:

Should I be worried about that guy ?

And the answer is yes.

Eddie Gluskin also noticed the chain of power around St Louis and immediately noticed that all the slashers respected or didn’t mess with Michael. And you—his precious future wife—dared to spend a lot of time around Michael.

So, they wouldn’t really like each other.

Pennywise once pranked him by pretending to be you and Eddie kissed him. Eddie genuinely thought it was you and was so happy…until he opened his eyes and saw it was Pennywise.

…

He punched Pennywise in the face so many times that it took 6 nurses to get him off Pennywise.

Penny bit Eddie Gluskin’s arm because of what he did to his brother.

…

He liked the taste.

Jason met Eddie Gluskin when he was tending to his frogs. He was in the garden near the pond when Eddie came and sat down next to him. They started spending time together and Eddie even started helping him with his frogs.

They became friends—which is quite a feat considering Jason’s trust issues.

…Father Paul’s face after Eddie Gluskin came to him for the 11th time to ask him to officialise his marriage to you. (Give the poor man a break. 🤣)

Even though, A: You’re not aware of it.

B: Eddie Gluskin is mad.

And C: Father Paul is obviously no longer a priest.

But he still does it every time because A: He is bored, and B: Eddie doesn’t leave him alone unless he somehow convinces him that he would so…

#fandoms #imagine #fanfic #pennywise 2017 #pennywise 1990 #slashers #pennywise x reader #michael myers x reader #freddy krueger x reader #jason voorhees x reader #eddie gluskin #eddie gluskin x reader #brahms x reader

[howlonomy]

in all the 'trauma siblings' stuff with Clover & Kanako, I keep coming back to thinking about how Flowey engages with this

Like, here's someone who went through an at least similar ordeal of getting a human soul mixed into a monster body, leading to a lethal, traumatic injury, into a rebirth into a new body whose physical and emotional state are all way the fuck out of wack

Except Flowey was shaped a lot by having to go through the traumatic aftermath alone, and lives in the weird space of having experienced unknown years of resets but also is still mentally kind of a child

So I have to think that Flowey sees these kids and that little Asriel part of him is screaming "don't let them wind up like us", but being Flowey he also has no idea how to really comfort anyone.

Leading to sweet moments like Clover collapsing somewhere and before anyone else in their family can even pick up on something being wrong, there's already vines springing up to catch them, because of course Flower would know how to spot weakness in people after years of doing that, but now there's a productive positive use for that instinct and it's nice

But also moments like "Gee how do I cheer up Kanako about that appointment with Alphys... I know! We'll torment her! What a wonderful idea!" Because hey, a little bit of sadism always cheered him up when he was suffering

And he'd probably settle toward a crass & hyperbolic style of comforting people with hit-or-miss moments, like a sort of "Wow clover you ate SHIT just now", trying to get them laughing at the misfortune instead of crying, but obviously sometimes It's Not The Time For That or he reverts a bit back to thinking something really fucked up like "Man, that person was really rude just now, we should kill them and everyone they love" and the kids look back at Flowey like "dude what the fuck"

And everybody's different ways of processing trauma are constantly both helping and clashing with each other as these kids help each other figure this shit out because as much as the adults want to help nobody but these 3 can really come close to understanding how it feels

this has been a big ramble for an ask and not really an ask but I wanted you to have this

THIS IS SOOOO GOOD BECAUSE YOURE 100% RIGHT

flowey struggles with knowing the concept of empathy and compassion but not really. KNOWING it. i imagine he can at least remember how it feels being asriel and during the final boss but. its easy to know what it is and harder to put it into practice when you dont actually feel it

i think youre right in that he would try his best to help but not really know HOW. like it takes him a bit to realize that oh, i can see the weaknesses in people, whatdo i do with this information now that i cant use it to exploit them? what can i do to help instead of harm? what is objectively the GOOD thing to do with this information?

hes still an asshole and a bitch but he cares. hes learning to anyways. even if he missteps a lot the people around him are forgiving and willing to help him on the right path and correct him. i love…. flowey :[

#asked and answered #monster clover au #mcau lore #i love character studies and analysis. i love them so much #im not very good at writing them but read this was absolutely a joy #ohhgghh flowey kanako clover frisk friendship is literally everything to me #flowey kanako and clover support circle where they talk about trauma #flowey and kanako talking about isolation and the lab #AUAUGHUHH

[obsessivevoidkitten]

Ok so I love the latest DILF fic <3

But what would life be like for our dear Reader after the contract was supposed to end and they couldn't run away because the old man keeps finding us and just treats the running away stuff as foreplay for when he finds them?

Personally, I would always give this guy the hateful stink eye that can wound even the masochistic person and would try to constantly kill the old man. Bro humiliated us in front of the entire squad, I can excuse kidnapping but not humiliation >:(

I mean, Reeves kidnaps us but the rest of the Navy squad is aware that he's doing it because he wants his bratty omega and they probably just think that what he did is just an Alpha taking his Omega, and Braidth also humiliates us in front of both his and our team but like we looked and brave doing it, fighting him even when we know we're gonna lose.

If this guy wants us so badly, so be it. The designated Navy cat is a little angel from hell so we're gonna have to play the part of the evil seething cat.

One moment, he's gazing out into the open sea the next moment, he's falling. His darling is super sweet, they made him tea owo, a second later he falls over òwó (he can't die, but the thought counts). He gets bites in his neck that are less love bites and more “I'm-ripping-and-tearing-your-throat-out” bites.

I love how your DILFs (Braidth the old dragon guy, Reeves the Shark Mermaid guy, and now Oraan the guy who humiliated us in front of the squad) makes me want to strangle them (affectionate). No wonder their darlings are brats. Also, I love how your DILFS are actually kinda old. Not some gentrified, Genshin Impact Bishounen in their 30s.

Braidth isn't quite a DILF. Not physically, he is older, but he is part dragon and doesn't really age the way humans do so he looks younger.

[yourlastbraincell-kiwi]

A/N: This has been sitting in my drafts and I fixed it up and decided to post it as a little blurb. Enjoy!

No mention of skin color, but the reader is the daughter of Sam Wilson!

Pairing: Peter Parker x samwilsondaughter!fem!reader

“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” Sam said, walking into the Avengers tower, holding the door open for everyone behind him.

“When do you ever think something is a good idea?” Bucky replied.

“All the time, all the time, but this one right here? Is not it.” Said Sam, as he walked further away from the group, and sat atop of a table.

“Well, this a great opportunity for the both of them.” Steve said.

“For what exactly?”

“Maybe they’ll bond over something and get close with one another.” Natasha replied, sitting next to Sam on the table.

“Yeah, and that’s what scares the hell outta me.” He responded and stood up from the table and began to pace.

Sam has always put an overprotective bubble, over (Y/N). Her being both his only daughter and child, he just wants the best for her. And (Y/N) sees that, but he doesn’t know that she’s losing the opportunity to be a teen.

She wants to go out with friends? It was a lovely day, until she caught him watching her and her friends through some bushes, with goggles and full on camouflage.

Yeah, now she only sees those friends during school hours.

Sleepover with the besties? Yeah, just ready for constant check ups and phone calls. He wants to know what you’re doing 24/7.

And suddenly those sleepover invitations get lost in the mail.

Don’t even get him started on dating. Sam will not allow it, until he’s ran an entire background check on the guy.

Now none of the guys at her school talk with her, everyone sees how protective he is of her. It’s sweet, but also completely unnecessary.

The door swung open as Peter ran inside trying to shove something into his backpack. “You wanted to see me, Mr. Wilson?” Peter asked, feeling nervous and on the verge of sweating.

“Oh, don’t be silly. Call me, ‘sir.’” Sam said, as Natasha game him a look, but he shrugged it off.

“I called you here, because I wanted you to meet someone. She should be here any moment.”

Not too long later, she walked inside the building and Sam immediately stood next to her. “Peter meet-”

“(Y/N)? Hey! How are you?” Peter says, as (Y/N) got closer to him and hugged him tight.

“Hey! I’ve been good!” They both smiled at each other, as they let go of one another, then they both looked away from each other, feeling embarrassed and flustered.

“Sooo.. you too already know each other?” Steve asked, and Peter was quick to answer.

“Yeah, I mean we,” Sam stared at him giving him a slight death glare. “We don’t actually, I don’t know her. Who are you again?” Peter said stumbling over his words, scratching the back of his head.

I rolled my eyes and stepped forward, “Peter and I met in school, he’s a good friend.” I smile at him, as Peter gave me a nervous smile.

“Good, that’s great! How about you two catch up and reminisce about, whatever things teens do these days. We have to have a quick talk with your dad, (Y/N).” Nat told me, I nodded and took Peter somewhere else in the tower.

Once they were out of earshot of everyone else, Peter let (Y/N) know just how nervous and frightened he was.

“He’s gonna kill me isn’t he? Like I know I offended him in some way so like, I might not wake up tomorrow, and-”

“Peter! Relax.. he won’t do anything to you. I promise.” I replied and Peter calmed down almost instantly, and took some deep breaths. “Hopefully..” I murmur to myself, underneath my breath.

“What??” Peter asked, clearly hearing what was said. I laughed running off and he began to chase me around.

#x reader #wattpad #fluff #fluffed up #sam wilson #peter parker x black!reader #peter parker x reader #spiderman #spiderman homecoming #tom holland #black!writer #black!reader #all inclusive #overprotective!sam Wilson

[legitalicat]

Appalachian Trailer Park!Sihtric - dating (SFW)

AN: This was supposed to be headcanons but now it's just turned into ramblings oops. This is not necessarily meant to be a universal Appalachian experience portrayal, but it is basically very close to mine and most people I grew up with. 😅

Masterlist here!

CW: Some sad moments, character death, AFAB!reader, talks of murder, talks of violence, blood a little, FLUFF (like tooth rotting kinda vibes)

Pairings: Sihtric Kjartansson x You

Word count: I'm guessing between 1 and 1.5k but I'm not real sure 😬 I kinda went crazy I will admit

You had lived in the same trailer park in the foothills of Appalachia your entire life. Despite anything that might lead someone to believe different, you liked it here. True, part of you longed for more. But how could one find more when their heart belonged to the mountains?

And maybe the cute guy who lived in the trailer across from yours had part of the reason to do that.

See, Sihtric moved in with his grandma, across from you, when you were both just entering high school. Your momma found out that Miss Ethel's daughter had been killed by her husband, and she had to take in her grandson because of it.

Miss Ethel was a lovely woman. She always volunteered to watch everyone's kids, during the summer she'd help provide the lemonade and the jar for catching lightning bugs. If anyone needed anything, from a cup of sugar to knowledge on hiding a body, Miss Ethel was there.

So, your little community welcomed the boy without a doubt. He didn't really cause any trouble, for the most part. Mostly just cussing in front of the little ones without thinking or throwing something in a fit of anger and making a loud noise.

Surely, wasn't a punishable crime.

Though it helped that you, the girl who helped tutor anyone who asked and baked cookies for the miners to have after their shifts, was sweet on him.

And boy, was he sweet on you.

He was working on his dirt bike in the driveway and you stepped onto your porch. Immediately, he fumbled around and dropped his wrench and cussed like a sailor.

Your cheeks heated up and you would debate to yourself on whether to go back inside or pretend like he wasn't there.

But your eyes connected. You waved. He waved. And it was the easiest thing in the world.

You started dating that same night, after he offered to teach you about his dirt bike and it ended with him kissing you.

Despite the doubts, you and Sihtric stayed together through it all.

Every year in high school began and ended with you walking through doors of the school hand in hand.

You both graduated, though him only by a thread.

He was there as you started college two towns over, close enough to commute daily so were still together.

You watched as he started working for the local garage.

When you were both twenty, Miss Ethel passed.

It felt sudden, especially for Sihtric, but you found out she had been sick for a while and just hid it from everyone. Including her grandson.

If anyone asked him, you were his rock.

You explained the situation to your college professors, and if you could make sure to keep up with your assignments according to the syllabus, they would find a way to make it work.

So you all but moved in with him officially in the weeks following. You had originally planned on waiting until you got your degree.

But you felt the need to take care of him. And at first he was just angry, angry at everything and the world and the gods and even God who he didn't believe in. He was going to work and coming home and going straight to bed. He wasn't eating, wasn't talking to you.

So, like any good girlfriend, you told him either he let you help him or you would beat him with a broom.

For the first time in weeks he laughed. You started staying with him that night and you just never left.

Before you knew it, you had graduated college, gotten a job in your field, and Sihtric was being poised to take over as shop foreman in the next few years.

And yet, you stayed where you were.

The trailer was nice. It would be fine until you got enough money saved up to buy a house big enough for the brood that Sihtric seemed to want.

For now? For now you had everything you needed. Sure the windows leaked sometimes if the rain rolled down the metal wrong way. Sure, Sihtric would sometimes have to spend a few days working on something else that broke.

But you had him. And that was enough.

The weeks may have been dedicated to work, but the weekends were for you.

Yes, you both always went to bed together. You always were affectionate (the man was a hugging machine after all).

But Saturdays he would wake you up by running a bubble bath for the both of you, using your favorite scent.

Then you would go get breakfast, usually going to Tudor's Biscuit World so he could get a bacon egg and cheese biscuit bigger than your face. You would get, as you called it, a deconstructed pot pie that you joked with him you would leave him for. He would tell you that would give him more money to work on his car.

But he would get you a pot pie at least once a week just because it made you smile. And you would get in the way help him at the fourteen million car parts stores he would go to just because you loved seeing him do what he loved.

Sometimes you'd go to the mall. It was slowly dying, all the family friendly fun stores quickly leaving. But there were still some good parts.

Like Rural King where you could get free popcorn and look at turkeys, chickens, and rabbits (plus any dog that people brought with them).

You would inevitably get sad when you were reminded you couldn't bring home the animals. Like, tears in your eyes, heart aching sad because you just wanted them to have a home.

Which would be forgotten, until you came back at least, when Sihtric promised you he would buy you a milkshake and a stuffed animal or a book of your choice.

Sihtric watched as you practically skipped to the bookstore. You spent an hour there, talking about books you wanted to read but couldn't buy because you couldn't buy the whole series and you were not doing that to yourself right now.

So, after getting your milkshake, you would go find a stuffed animal that spoke to your soul.

He would carry around the contenders for you, because it was those specific ones that spoke to you and you couldn't risk putting them back until you were certain.

And when, inevitably, you came to two that you couldn't pick between, he would tell you get both.

He spoiled you, truly.

Sometimes you would go to a local bar. Not because you personally drank, but mostly because watching drunk people do karaoke tickled something inside your brain.

It also meant Sihtric would wear his white tank top, which showed off his arms in the perfect way. And maybe you would be jealous over the way women looked at him. But how could you be when his arms were wrapped around you all night.

The man was not at all subtle about showing you off.

And if a drunken idiot got too bold with his words about you, Sihtric would suddenly be in protective mode. His voice firm and commanding when he gave the warning to the idiot, making your face a little hot (which you swore had everything to do with embarrassment and definitely not how his voice affected you).

If that wasn't enough to deter someone, and they dared touch you, that was it.

See the only reason you and Sihtric had not been banned from this bar was because Sihtric played just inside the rules.

No fighting in the bar. Fine. Sihtric wouldn't.

He would just gently move away from you before grabbing whoever touched you and throwing them out the door and into the dirt.

He would spend a few minutes wailing on the idiot, getting hit a time or two himself since he had had a few drinks.

But he would come back, knuckles busted, some blood on his shirt or spattered along his face, a bloody lip.

He would settle back in his spot as a waitress brought y'all an ice bucket and the first aid kit (which they regularly replenished now because of Sihtric).

You would get him just cleaned up enough, his hands in the ice for a few minutes at best, when he declared he was done and tired and just wanted to be with you.

So you would drive home, with a tipsy Sihtric singing loudly whatever love song played on the radio cause you would need further proof of his love.

You would settle into bed, being held close to him as you read to him until he fell asleep, and you followed him soon after.

Sundays would depend on you.

Sihtric practiced Norse paganism. You parents were very active in their Methodist church. It caused some conflict, especially when Sihtric started talking about your future children.

If you wanted to go to church with them, Sihtric would kiss you before you left to go and be in the parking lot to pick you up afterwards. There would always be flowers waiting for you. Sometimes it would be dandelions, as you insisted they were beautiful even if they were weeds, sometimes butter cups, and sometimes you got lucky and he had seen tiger lilies.

He would smile at you and kiss you while he handed them to you, ask if the service was good, and then take you somewhere to get lunch.

If you didn't really partake in their church, you both would stay in bed until noon. When you would wake up, you'd crawl out of bed and cooked some breakfast foods that would wake Sihtric up. He would sleepily stumble in the kitchen, grabbing the coffee you set out for him.

Sunday was a lazy day. You guys lounged around the house. Sometimes you both would play video games, sometimes you would watch a show.

There were times when Sihtric's friends from work, Uhtred, Finan, and Osferth, would come over on Sundays. You liked those guys a lot, if you were honest. They were all respectful of you, and kind, and Osferth cleaned up after them so you wouldn't have to. And mostly, they made Sihtric happy.

Sihtric and you would walk over to your parents' for Sunday dinner around 5pm.

Despite the differences in beliefs, and the way your dad not so subtly didn't really like him, Sihtric was respectful and kind to them.

He was the one who insisted you come, telling you he would give anything to have dinner with his family one more time, even if he didn't remember his dad fondly. Family was important to him, even if yours didn't like him, and he wanted you to have that

He would stay quiet, even taking his hat off when your dad would say grace.

He would make polite conversation, always eagerly bragging about you whenever he got the chance.

Sihtric would compliment your momma's cooking. She liked him, but since your dad didn't she tried to act like she didn't.

But she always managed to get him a little extra food to take home, would put his favorite cobbler in the dessert rotation, and make sure his favorite drink was always somewhere to be found.

Your dad was polite. That was about all he could manage. And that was fine, according to Sihtric, because he knew your dad couldn't bitch him out for making you happy.

Sunday nights would end back in your home. You would listen to his talkings of your life together. The promises he made.

He insisted once he became foreman, he would buy you a big house with a dishwasher and enough room for all the animals you could ask for.

You two would be able to have a family of your own, ideally with four children or more, and he would give you everything.

You assured him you knew he would keep the promises he made you. But you always thought to yourself how you would be perfectly content with him, here, forever.

You had a roof over your head, food in your kitchen, electricity and water on demand, and a whole lotta love. You had Sihtric.

It was a simple life. But it was yours.

Side note I could not find the original source of this picture if someone knows please let me know.

Taglist: @foxyanon

#sihtric x you #sihtric kjartansson #appalachian life #appalachian sihtric #the last kingdom #headcanon #fic

[raine-world]

When MatPat came on screen I freaked out (in a good way) and got so light headed I missed the entire conversation and almost passed out until he said "But that's just a theory-" which shocked me out of it like a sleeper agent code word

#fnaf #fnaf movie #fnaf spoilers #fnaf movie spoilers #matpat #had a good time! #movie was alright. some parts bad. many plot holes #but the animatronic moments were easily the best part and made it super enjoyable #both the sweet moments and the killing moments #i had to ask my friend afterwards why matpat said “that's just a theory” because i did legit almost black out #i haven't watched matpat in years btw

[padawansuggest]

JediTok

Obi-Wan and 15yo Anakin: *us on vacation with our Master doing literally nothing but sitting in the grass together and not trying to kill each other for once*

Qui-Gon: *crying and holding up his comm* I wanna take a pic.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #incorrect star wars quotes #anakin skywalker #qui gon jinn #he took them to Alderaan and now they’re spoiled by the Royal fam #this is the first time they haven’t tried to kill each other since Ani got his teen hormones #normally it’s On Sight between them #in a ‘cuddles while choking you out’ sorta way tho so it’s sweet #Qui takes pics of those moments too #if you wonder why Qui is taking his knighted 31 year old son on them with vacation #it’s because he’s STILL a helicopter parent to Obi well into senility for both of them #spacetok #jeditok

[cuteandtwisted]

don’t mind if i scream

#kinnporsche #i need wide angle framing please stop robbing US #the fact that Kinn initiates this sweet moment but it’s Porsche who holds him with both hands. desperate to bring him closer #and to just be close to him #the way he holds himself back at first #unsure but as soon as Kinn makes a move he’s all in and BEYOND #he’s dying for love he wants to be loved so bad #anyway kill me thanks #porsche my beloved

[toomuchdickfort]

It’s been a minute since I’ve been on about the relationship between Geryon and Larry

#put on music to go to sleep to since YouTube’s been too much the past few nights and. hello to the song I associated with them years ago #when I was originally developing their lives between friends and two dead men who have killed each other and hold a permanent place in each #others hearts and #normally I’m very *shakes them in my teeth* about it but currently I’m just. holds them in my hands like a very small origami crane #they held onto each other in spite of everything #and it’s tragic and they know it and they keep falling into orbit with each other and any time one of them holds the others cheek he’s very #aware of the blood on those hands and every time one holds the other he’s too aware of how easy it would be to betray the trust he’s being #shown but they keep trusting each other despite it and they’ve always known each other and they no longer recognize each other and they’re #the same people they were on earth and those versions of them are long dead and #and there was a time when. even as their lives were falling apart they had a respite in each other. even as they stared their own descent in #the face they held onto each other #what could they have become if that time lasted just a little longer. if it slightly edged out even just two events #like it’s just that. before their relationship was the sweet smell of rot. it was just sweet #don't mind me #character rambles #elysur #lawrence nighy #geryon amnes #thinks about the moment when they first met again after they had both died #two dead men for an instant shedding the weight on their shoulders and just. reuniting with their oldest friend. they didn’t catch up #because they knew that would sour things so they just enjoyed some time together while they could #like. amidst the chaos and the pain there are moments of care #like don’t get me wrong their relationship is a fucking dumpster fire #but I’m feeling soft and this is just the characters I’m stuck on atm

[chisatowo]

I think we need less group parents Meiko and Kaito and more chaotic besties who have no idea what they're doing but are somehow famous idols anyways Meiko and Kaito. They're college drop outs and going to furry conventions together in my heart

#rat rambles #vocaloid posting #kaito is a pathetic shaking small dog and meiko is carrying him in his purse to go steal shit from target #that was a typo but you know what meiko uses she/he pronouns why not #theyre both whine aunts but one of them is an actual mom now so kaito has to do the heavy lifting with the whine auntery #he's bad at it he cant help being a good influence on kids 😔 #its ok he'll eventually become a father figure to enough kids that meiko can go back to being a whine aunt too #meanwhile meiko is a good mother but also lets her son dress like a clown every day and take an hour to eat like an anime girl each meal #honestly shed probably let him kill a man if he asked but he's a sweet kid and also a wimpy loser so he wont #sorry Im just having a mini vocaloid moment gmfkfndh