#By then the body would already be decomposed

[rottenwrath]

the second isla found his hair , luke was practically purring with anticipation . slick , slimy want curled around his tongue & filled the back of his throat with saliva — freedom , salvation , so close he could taste its sweet nectar pooling beneath his tongue . he dug his chin harder into her stomach , held firmer to her hips , something so close to euphoria twisting his insides he was practically panting like a bitch in heat .

then , isla's touch grew firmer — more commanding . yanking his head back , luke's eyes snapped open ; blue shards of stained glass glinting as the moon caught them . his skin translucent , his jaw slack , so taken out of his fantasy that he felt the sands of time shift as they passed through the pinch of monte cristo's well-monitored hourglass . her touch then softened , the grooming of his bristled fur continuing , but lost was the submissive & yearning gleam in his eyes . instead ; a boiling savagery sat in its wake .

isla wardwell , on her high horse . isla wardwell , thinking herself a god instead of him . isla wardwell , the savior and the bringing of damnation . isla wardwell , the rapture embodied .

isla wardwell , isla wardwell , ISLA WARDWELL .

" YOU'D take a piece of ME with you ?? " luke's voice rang , but his lips didn't move — lodging himself , instead , back into the icy confines of her mind . rattling around her skull like that very marble she had called him . glassy & hard , striking bone with a force he felt in the fingers still gripping her sides .

yes , in death he had learned patience , but in death , he had also learned what it truly felt like to have nothing to lose .

" — I'LL be the one taking a piece of YOU . "

surging his energy forward , luke pressed the heels of his hands into her hip bones with a strength that was anything but human — hurling her frame back . he watched her as she soared backwards , a bird with bound wings , until her spine met the body of a hemlock ten feet away . luke was on her in seconds , rabid & untamed , heaving breaths so hard that spittle flew from ill-tempered lips . " i am not going to offer you ANYTHING more than you have already taken from me , " luke snarled , cornering her against the tree , slamming his hand into softwood just above her head before sinking his fingers into its bark — the wood spiraling into thick coils beneath his fingernails .

" what i'd do for you is let you live . let US live . " a lion freed from its cage & rebelling against its ring master — fangs & claws bared , more than ready to strike . before isla's eyes , luke began to rot ; skin peeling back , the gaps in flesh exposing decayed muscle that had been chewed away by eager , hungry maggots . the stench of decomposing skin & bone began to permeate the air , its odor so thick if she opened her mouth to breathe — she'd taste it .

his voice even seemed to disintegrate , raw & eroded ; breath pungent with the reek of death . despair . " i tried to play nice , but if you don't want to help me ?? fine , " he lowered his molting face to hers , so close just a small movement from the woman would make their noses — or what was left of his — touch . " — but if i'm stayin' here , you're all staying here with me . "

not long after he had made his vow , voiced his decision , luke fully disintegrated . the passage of time seemed to multiply for a moment ; flesh , muscle & tendons peeling back from bone until he was no more than a carnage-streaked skeleton before her . the pieces of his framework rattled as they collapsed into a heap on the ground . the earth , moving as if it were living , came up to wrap its arms around ivory before pulling each and every last one beneath its surface . the bark on the tree moved back to its proper place , as if his claws hadn't raked through it .

any evidence he had ever been there was buried , an occurrence all too familiar to the mountain as it played its familiar part in cleaning up .

she watched him kneel, finally bowing to something worth worshipping. at last, the sinner kneels at her altar, though neither of them will witness forgiveness. how strange that a man had to die for you to get what you wanted from him. she made a silent promise just then, looking off into the frosted distance: if he was going to believe her like a god, she would betray him like one. isla's fingers tangled in his hair, blond bristling the warmth of tawny skin. there was a weight to her touch, as if she were anointing him with something far greater than desire—something ancient, unyielding, like the hand of god itself drawing him into judgment. " do you know what you're askin' for, luke? " voice is a morsel ensnared between the two of them, like two hounds tugging at the same piece of meat. wanting so badly for the same thing that she could still taste him. " you think you can crawl on your knees 'till you find peace? " his lips, trembling in devotion, brushed against the hardly exposed skin of her midrift, shirt bunching where he laid his head. her body stiffened, not with fear, but with the righteousness of a sacrifice, the inevitability of what was about to unfold. she felt his breath on her, hot and desperate, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still, as if the heavens themselves had paused to witness this communion. with a sudden, deliberate motion, isla took his hair by the handful and forced his head back by her own will. clutching him with an authority that begged for him to see her as she was: something divine & terrible, backlit by the sun. even in the dark, she'd shone bright enough to cast out all the wrongness in her. it was the thing they shared, the knife twisted in them both. gaze levels with his own, oceanic pools threatening to swell in his own sights threatening a certain satisfaction within her. " hear me, and hear me good: " so this is what luke sinclair looked like in her clutch: beautiful, disastrous, pathetic. how utterly charming, had the scene not also been so strikingly pitiful. besides, if isla had so desired to see a beautiful man with his head practically betwen her legs, truly, she would have asked kingston. still, the spectacle is enough to sate that gnawing thing between them: the wanting to see each other like this, the switching of position. isla had released him, at least to the degree of non-belonging. no longer a thing to lay her claim to, rather something accepting it's possesion and therefore becoming something else entirely. " i ain't in the business of saving. " luke had proved isla right, he really wasn't capable of much on his own. still, fingers groom his hair, watching as his throat bobbed around his words. " whatever the hell is chewing you up—it ain’t something i can just wipe away. not without taking a piece of you with me. " the power she held over him wasn’t just control—it was a twisted form of consumption. and she wanted more. " besides ... what would you do for me? "

[radiance1]

A 'No one knows' Au and that one au where Danny leaves behind a corpse after death.

With a twist.

Jack and Maddie, not fearing death but fearing becoming a ghost after death have perfected what one would call functional immortality.

Clones.

Which is kind of why they're pretty careless about danger outside of combat, they just, quite literally, cannot be bothered to care less. If they die? Then their souls would just be thrusted into a clone body.

They didn't just cheat death, they walked all over it, spat on it, and continued walking over it a multitude of times.

Which accidently became a plus for Danny and his secret identity.

See, when Danny went ghost to save the day, he came back only to find his body gone. Safe to say, he panicked and looked everywhere for it, or tried to at least, because if that got out he wouldn't really know how to deal with it.

Only to then learn his parents hid and are quite literally experts at hiding bodies, his included.

Jack and Maddie are quite happy that they were the ones who stumbled upon Danny's body and not anyone else, since it would take a quite long amount of explanation as to why their son was found dead yet seemingly walked to school fine hit Monday!

Well, they weren't happy he died really, as any parent wouldn't be, but they're glad they prepared extra bodies for both him and Jazz in case the day ever came.

Danny awkwardly slid himself into said excuse while trying not to externally freak the fuck out. But hey, at least it's a plus that whenever his parents find his corpse they just, hid it no questions asked.

Good, it would be so weird if anyone managed to find either of their multiple corpses.

But hey! At least Jazz hasn't died yet!

[dawnleaf37]

hey yeah i had another bad idea . for eucerin

[esyra]

After the hospital bombing, I finally heard back from my grandmother and confirmed that several of my relatives were murdered by Israeli bombing. Seven of them, to be precise. Three are still going, including her. We've been talking constantly ever since.

Asked if it was possible to head south, and was told they did but were also bombed there. So they decided to go back home, in Zeitoun. Their home was bombed and they were pulled out of the rumble, then driven by ambulances to the al-Ahli Arab Hospital. There were people in every corner. Gazans sheltering, sleeping on the floor. Gazans dying on the floor, waiting for beds.

Four were declared dead on arrival, three were in need of surgery and other three were just bandaged. Then, a bomb was dropped in the parking lot that made parts of the ceiling collapse, like Dr. Ghassan Abu Sittah reported in that horrific conference/interview. Those in need of surgery died.

By the way, just in case you didn't know: the Church of Saint Porphyrius, the third oldest in history, bombed by Israel a few days back, was located near the hospital.

When looking for new shelter, they saw schools with signs hanging outside, "We can't take any more families." They met families, sympathetic but already sheltering too many people. They're now staying in an apartment building they found empty. Sleeping in the corner of the living room. If the family comes back, they'll apologize and leave.

Told me she was saving her phone battery for when the bombing stopped, and she had to ask for help to rebuilt the neighborhood. But she doesn't think it's gonna stop anymore. The ones still with her are mute most of the time, like they're saving energy, but she feels lonely and wanted to talk. There's no internet and to connect to WhatsApp, people are buying "a card from the supermarket, there's a password and username." Not sure what she meant. Still, the internet is inconsistent and won't load neither videos or images nor pages, so she doesn't know what's happening on the outside world.

Told her there were a lot of people protesting to stop the genocide, she replied, "The bombings are getting worse by the day." The bombing yesterday was the worst she ever witnessed. The entire neighborhood is infested with the smell of death, of decomposing bodies. Bodies are piling up in the streets and she's not sure if it's because they ran out of places to store them, but most of them are in bags. The smoke of the bombings hide the blue sky—she hasn't seen the clouds for a while.

Asked if I could share their pictures, names and dreams with people and was told, of which I partly agree, "they're not entertainment." If anyone genuinely cared, they would be alive—I'd argue there are people who do care, but I'm not gonna lecture her pain. And they don't deserve to be used to fulfill someone's sick fantasy. Told me to remember what some Israelis do with pictures of dead Palestinians. And I do.

For those of you who are not familiar, many times before settlers got together to celebrate the murder of Palestinians. For one, in 2015, Israeli settlers set a house in Duma, West Bank on fire. An 18-month old baby, Ali Dawbsheh, was burnt alive. Both parents later died of wounds and only a 5-year-old, Ahmad, survived, although severely injured.

Two celebrations of their murder are widely known, one at a wedding and others outside the court in which two were indicted for the terrorist attack. In the wedding, guests stabbed a photo of the toddler, Ali, while others waved guns, knives and Molotov cocktails. Israel's Minister of National Security, Itamar Ben-Gvir, was present.

That's what happens in an apartheid. Palestinians are so abused by authorities that their "innocent civilians" come to accept the brutality as necessary or are desensitized by our suffering. After all, it's been 75 years—get used to it!

So I won't risk the image of my loved ones, in fear they are used in these kinds of depravity. I will say, though, the world lost a young footballer. Lost a female writer and an aspiring ballerina. Lost a kind father, who was also a great cook, and a loving mother that enjoyed sewing and other types of handicraft art. Lost a math teacher and a child that wanted to become one.

People think Israel is testing new weapons on them. There's civilians arriving at the hospital with severe burns, which they thought was from white phosphorus, but apparently the pattern is different from the one caused by white phosphorus. It's widely believed Israel tests weapons in Palestinians.

Jeff Halper, author of War Against the People, a book on Israel's arms and surveillance technology industries, said: "Israel has kept the occupation because it's a laboratory for weapons."

They've ran out of drinkable water and the "aid" Biden sent was only for the South of Gaza and no fuel, for hospitals, was allowed in. Many shelves in the supermarket are empty. She said many are convinced that if they don't die from the bombing, they'll die from starvation or dehydration, or whatever disease will develop from the dirty water they're drinking.

Told me all people do now is pray, cry and die. Told me she hopes West Bank is spared. Told her Israel bombed a mosque in West Bank and dozens of Palestinians in West Bank are being murdered by settlers, so she bided me goodbye.

[trans-beast]

"Lazarus I know you're mad but you gotta understand that literally nobody we know of has come back from the dead we're so so SO sorry please don't be mad at us"

Keep seeing that post where OP starts like 'Thinking about...grieving the undead' and then adds on about like. Real life situations where people have not died but have left your life and you would have reason to grieve them.

All respect, that's an important concept, but that is not what I am thinking about when I read 'grieving the undead'.

[pansy-rot]

if that deer carcass never gets moved im stealing those fucking bones dude

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt.2

[Pt.1] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6] [Pt.7] [Pt.8] [Pt.9] [Pt.10]

Danny dragged up another plastic wrapped body from the bay.

“It’s you. What are you doing?”

“Oh, holy smokes!” Danny screeched. “What-! Oh, it’s you! The litterer!”

Batman stood in front of Danny, cape draped around his shoulders and a far better sight to see than the last time Danny had seen the guy.

“… I’m Batman.” He introduced himself to Danny awkwardly.

“Uh huh. You missed a couple of things cleaning up the beach last time.” Danny dropped the body on the pebbled shore of the bay and crossed his arms. He sent Batman an unimpressed look. “You’re just like your city. There’s trash all over the water!”

Batman glanced down.

“That is a body.”

Danny scowled.

“No, that’s plastic. Plastic does not belong in the ocean.”

Batman sighed. For some reason, Danny thought he seemed less… antagonistic. Wait, did he think Danny killed the guy?!

“That is a body wrapped in plastic.”

Fuck it.

“If it was a body, then bury it. Or decompose it before you people decide to dump it into the water. Even the sharks have the decency to decompose when they’re dead. Do you know how long plastic takes to deteriorate??”

Batman glanced to the side, where the line of plastic wrapped masses had caught his eye to begin with.

“I do. Did all of these come from the bay?”

“Quite obviously, yes. I don’t have enough time to clean the waters! Ancients, it’s like they’re multiplying!” Danny knew why they were multiplying. It’s because Gothamites were getting murdered and dumped weekly. The problem is that Danny has classes and assignments to complete and he couldn’t be out here every week.

“I’ll handle it.”

“Oh, will you? And how do you plan on doing that when you couldn’t even properly clean the beach of your plane? I even stacked it up nicely for you to pick up!”

Alright, so maybe Danny had a couple of grudges. Like… a solid one that’s based on the hours of sleep he missed cleaning up after Batman and the wreck.

“We didn’t get everything?”

“No.” Danny huffed. “Whatever. Just figure out what to do with these bodies. I was not looking forward to digging graves for all of them.”

“You were going to dig graves for them?” Batman sounded off.

Danny scowled again. “I’m dead, genius.” And now Batman looked like someone ran over his dog. “Respecting the dead is important and graves are important for the dead. How else would we know we’re remembered?”

Danny threw up his hands. “Humans,” he muttered, like he wasn’t half human himself.

“Anyways, I’m leaving. Handle this properly or else I’m haunting you.”

“Wait-!” Batman said, but Danny had already disappeared.

So, while Batman had an angst crises at two thirty in the morning and thirty new unidentified corpses to contend with, Danny Fenton flew back to his apartment and passed out on his shitty couch.

——

“You need to stop.”

“Pay me to stop, then. What are your villains going to do? Kill me? I’d like to see them try.”

Danny looked Batman right in his lenses and plopped another body down at the man’s feet.

“I can tell you who they are for a fee.” Danny offered the vigilante. “Some of these still have shades of their souls attached still.”

“What.”

Danny tilted his head, moon once more lighting a halo of flickering white flames around his head. “$100 per identity.”

Batman stared.

[pathologicalreid]

always, i'll wait | s.r.

in which spencer dedicates himself to pulling you out of your depressive state

margotober

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: severe depressive episode, dissociation, medication, reader not taking care of herself, not eating, death, corporeal mark word count: 2.16k a/n: if even one person understands what i was doing when i wrote this then i can die happy. based on this request! i hope you enjoy!

The cushion beneath you was slowly becoming displaced. Your body descends into the cavernous no man’s land that is the crevice of your couch as you stare straight ahead. The TV screen went dark moments ago. The blackness following the Are you still there? screen of your show.

Tugging the knit blanket you had curled up with last night under your chin, you close your eyes, the tears that were welling falling sideways down your face until they land on your flattened pillow. The blanket still smells like Spencer, and you can’t help but wonder how long it’ll take before the scent of his tea tree shampoo fades away entirely.

You could lay on the couch for the rest of your life, and you’d still never be able to understand your actions from the past few days. Distracting yourself from the ache in your heart by wondering if your decomposing body would leave a corporeal mark on your couch.

When you open your eyes and find all too familiar ones staring back at you, the only reasonable explanation is that you’re already dead. You’re dead and your punishment is having Spencer Reid give you puppy dog eyes for the rest of your eternal damnation.

And you’d deserve it.

“How long have you been lying here?” Spencer asks you, using the coffee table for support as he shifts from a squat to a kneel. Tentatively, his hand rests on the couch cushion, just in front of yours.

You blink absently in response. Not only are you being forced to look at the man whose heart you broke, but he’s seemingly intent on making you face the fact that you’ve been on the couch since last night.

The concern deepens on Spencer’s face when you don’t respond, “Can you hear me?”

In the back of your mind, you wonder how he managed to get into your apartment without a key, but you don’t air this concern to him, you just look at him.

Slowly, he reaches into his pocket, typing out a quick message on his phone before leaving the device face down on your coffee table. “Honey, will you talk to me?”

Wanting to avoid the visage of your ex-boyfriend in front of you, you let your eyes fall shut again, grunting when your punishment grows sentient and gently shakes your shoulder.

“Hey, uh uh, eyes open,” he chides, revealing himself as the real version of Spencer.

You frown at him, partially in disbelief and partially in distaste, “What are you doing here?” You ask, your voice garbled from lack of use.

His concern softens slightly at the sound of your voice, “No one’s heard from you in two days.”

Lifting your head from the pillow, your eyes widen slightly, “Days?”

Spencer nods in confirmation, “Have you been on the couch this whole time?”

Furrowing your brows, you rest your head back on the pillow, “No, I’ve been… It was… what?”

Gently, he reached out and rested a hand on your head, gently using the pad of his thumb to gently smooth hairs from your forehead, “What’s the last thing you remember?” His question holds no accusation, the honey-sweet tone nearly enough to make your bottom lip quiver.

“Breaking up with you,” you breathed. The text that you had sent in a flurry of tears being the only thing that resurfaced in your memory.

Hi, we’ve gotta break up. Sorry.

Admittedly, it wasn’t the most eloquent text message that you have ever written, but at the time, you weren’t yourself. At least now you knew that you were in the early stages of a dissociative episode. “I broke up with you,” you repeated, more for yourself than for him. “What are you doing here?”

Softly, Spencer smiled at you, cupping your cheek before standing up and grabbing your TV remote, switching the screen from the muted black of standby mode to the pitch black of being completely off. “Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat, “That won’t work for me.”

Peering up at him, you prop your head up in your hand, “What do you mean?” Confusion ruminated through your already troubled mind.

He raised his eyebrows, went over to the curtains, and opened them, allowing rays of light to stream into your living room, the daylight made you cringe, but eventually, your eyes would adjust. “You do not get to drop off the face of the Earth. I won’t let you get lost like that,” he told you, his sugar-coated tone cracking as he grew sterner.

Spencer never minded the way you sank to the bottom of your brain, he was always willing to make the trek to rescue you, but you didn’t want that anymore. “Well, I’m up now,” your body was beginning to settle into your skin once again, “You don’t have to stay.”

Your boyfriend—the jury was still out on that one—scoffed in response, sitting himself down on the corner of your coffee table, “Fine, I’ll just wait here until you can give me a valid explanation for ending our relationship via text message.”

Parting your lips, you hauled yourself to a sitting position, “I thought… I didn’t—” No, he completely had you there. You owed him more than a text message, but you didn’t have the dignity to face him. You knew he’d talk sense into you.

“What happened two nights ago?” Spencer asked, resting his elbows on his knees and watching you intently. “Did something happen to you that you felt like you couldn’t share with me?”

Shaking your head, you reached up and wiped your nose with the sleeve of your sweatshirt, “No, nothing like that.”

His expression softened, looking at you, desperate for an explanation, “Then what was it, baby? You know you can tell me anything.”

Your throat burned with emotion, and holding back tears didn’t take any effort—your body was so devoid of water that none even bothered to form. Even so, you hiccupped a dry sob, covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound, “I didn’t want you to have to worry about me.”

Spencer’s face fell. Your heart broke even more than it had when you sent that text, “I tried to text you back. I called you. Everyone called you.”

You hadn’t the slightest idea where your phone was, patting around the couch for any sign of it. “I didn’t hear anything,” you frowned, unsure where it had ended up.

“Are you missing time?” He asked, checking in on where exactly you were mentally.

Nodding, you leaned into the couch cushions. You couldn’t account for anything the night before last, you had sent that text and disappeared into the depths of your own mind. An organ that was necessary for survival playing wicked games with your life.

His lips parted, readying himself to ask a question that he clearly didn’t want to, “Are you off your medication?”

You flinched at his question, screwing your eyes shut and nodding again. “They’re at the pharmacy,” you told him, “My head hurts.”

“You’re coming back,” he said, watching the way your eyes flittered around the room anxiously. “Have you eaten anything?”

His question was innocent enough, but you found yourself unaware of the answer. Surely you had eaten something in the last twenty-four hours, you hadn’t been truly withering away on your couch—had you? The tremble of your hands told a completely different story, you steepled your fingers together to keep them from shaking.

Taking your silence as a response in and of itself, Spencer nodded, “Do you want breakfast?”

“I don’t want you to take care of this,” you told him, the response coming out harsher than you had initially intended.

Realization washed over Spencer’s features, looking at your situation in a completely new light. “That’s what this is?” Hurt seeped into his voice, cocking his head to the side, “Baby, you’re warping your need for independence into a reason to push me away. Why?”

Taking a ragged breath, you shrugged helplessly at him, “You’ve spent your whole life taking care of people, and I don’t want to add to it anymore.”

“Has it occurred to you that I like taking care of you?” He asked, voice softening as he leaned forward to press a kiss to your hairline. “Go take a shower, I’ll get breakfast going,” he instructed you, tenderly tugging the knit blanket off of your body before helping you to your feet.

You grimaced at the feeling of your feet on the floor, “I don’t want to shower.”

“It wasn’t a suggestion,” Spencer said over his shoulder as he made his way into your kitchen, reaching in the cabinets for your frying pan.

You unceremoniously returned from the shower; strands of damp hair draped over your shoulders. “Are you going to tell me how you got into my apartment in the first place?” Despite the length of your relationship, you’d never given him a key to your apartment. The leasing office had only given you one.

His back was to you, his expression literally unreadable, “Your landlord did.”

“And why did she do that?” You asked, pulling the glass of water that you assumed he poured for you across the granite countertops.

Spencer turned the frying pan on its side, scraping the scrambled eggs off of the Teflon surface and onto a plate. “I told her she was either going to do it for me or for the police when I call for a wellness check,” he informed you, placing the plate in front of you and pushing the saltshaker over to you. He must’ve noticed the face you were making at the eggs on your plate, because he spoke up once more, “You need the protein.”

You recognized that this wasn’t an overreaction to the situation. In fact, Spencer had maintained a completely calm demeanor when speaking with you, but you saw further past his façade. You saw the way the vein on his temple popped when he clenched his jaw, taking the saltshaker into your hand, you added some on top of the eggs before mixing them around, “I scared you.”

While Spencer lived in the district, your address was in Maryland, and you knew he wasn’t above calling Will at MPD to do a wellness check on you, “Yes.”

His answer was simple, and yet, your chest clenched at the brevity of it, “You’re mad at me.”

“Yes,” he answered again, resting his hands on the countertop and leaning over it. He watched as you stirred the eggs around on your plate, steam rising from them as you did. “Do you want to come with me to pick up your prescription?”

You hummed as you shoveled the first bite of eggs into your mouth. “Sure,” you said, watching him dig a carton of blueberries out of your fridge.

Dropping a handful on your plate, careful to make sure they don’t roll into the eggs, Spencer seals the container again, “Antioxidants and vitamins,” he murmured to no one in particular.

“How can you forgive me?” You asked Spencer, watching him endearingly pop a few blueberries into his mouth before placing the container back into your refrigerator.

He shook his head, “It’s not a matter of forgiveness. It wasn’t your fault.”

You couldn’t help but feel like you needed to shoulder the blame, “Then whose fault is it, Spence?”

“There is no fault. At least, there’s not one that falls on either of us. I can’t fault you for your brain. No matter how misguided you might have been, you thought you were acting in both of our best interests,” he admitted, rinsing the pan in the sink.

A beeping sound caught your attention, “Did you start a load of laundry?”

He nodded, scrubbing lightly at the dish in the sink, “Your hamper was full.”

“You’re doing too much,” you told him, pressing your lips in a thin line.

Setting the pan on a drying mat, he dried off his hands before walking over to you, hooking a finger beneath your chin before he murmured, “How is what I’m doing for you right now any different than when you took care of me after I got shot in the leg?”

Your jaw slackened. You had unofficially moved in with Spencer last year when he had been shot in the knee by an UnSub, helping him with everything from walking around the apartment to cooking.

Taking your lack of response as an answer, he nodded to himself, “I am always here for you.” He nodded his head in the direction of the door, “Come on, the sooner we get to the pharmacy the sooner we can start getting your apartment back in order."

He walked around you, pivoting on his heel as he held out a hand for you to take. Eventually, you accepted the hand he had extended, following him outside, into the light.

[turnitoffspot]

Photo from Pinterest of Elsa Lanchester’s taken at the Museum of the Moving Image for anyone looking

Not too mention the movie’s poster, in color, which is always lovely to see.

There’s also a colorized version of the movie available online if you’re willing to hunt for it.

Bride of Frankenstein (1935)

[impish-baby]

HEAR ME OUT!!

Demon king caretaker! You are a sacrifice from the people of your village to have another decade or peace and prosperity,but instead of sending the normal sacrifice how is a adult woman/man to became one or his "partners" they send a child!

The rest is with you;)

-💫

So rot, ferment, and decompose so all the things can grow - platonic! Yandere demon x child reader

Your head hurts and your knees are scraped and there's rope burns on your wrists-

You feel pitiful whining and sniffling, but it hurts! It hurts and you're upset, you're allowed to cry! Doesn't seem that way though when a woman from the village snarls at you to be quiet. They're just idiots, the whole lot of them..

They can't whisper to save their lives either, although they're obviously trying to. Hushed utterings echo around you as the council drags your already battered body through the forest, "the changeling child, we'll be rid off it and ensure our good tidings." with a stupid smug grin on their faces!

You're a plain old human like them! Just.. just because father said you weren't doesn't make it true. You wish the demon would just wipe out the entire village for a moment before quickly dismissing the thought. There's the farm... what would happen to the animals if the village was gone? There'd be no one to take care of them! You... you aren't going to see them again...are you? Nor pet a dog or or share a loaf of bread with the birds..

Before you know it, big fat tears are rolling down your face. What were once sniffles turning into broken sobs. The woman from before is about to snap at you again, but the village cheif shakes his head. It does not matter if you cry. No one is going to save you.

The alter used to be pretty, now it only feels like it's taunting you as you're made to kneel on its steps.

"Aeron," the chief's voice booms in the night, even the crickets silencing in the wake of it. "O Mighty Lord, we have once again come to offer a gift in exchange for your blessings. Please, heed us.." There's nothing. Not a sound, not a sign, nothing.

The chief clears his throat, about to speak again before suddenly choking and dropping to his knees clutching at his neck. Whoever was holding the rope tied around your wrists drops it as the rest of the counsel rushes to his side. You.. you think there's blood, but your attention is quickly drawn away when a hand cups your face.

"Oh, poor dear.." the man looks like an angel, despite the mangled wings. "How foolish of them, giving away something so precious.."

He hums, and before you know, you're lifted into his arms. You.. weren't so tired before, you're sure. All you can do now is lie weakly in his embrace, eyes drooping even as there's screams in the distance. An adoring smile graces his face as he gently pushes your head against his shoulder, hiding anything from view. "Sleep.. you'll be safe when you awaken, little one.."

[shotmrmiller]

tw: simon's mean and a sexist.

Simon who doesn't like you. He respects Laswell, who's intel is vital to their missions. Price as the leader of the Task Force. Gaz because he's proved his mettle time and time again, and Soap whose stubborn self has burrowed under Simon's thick, knotted flesh.

Not you, though.

You've yet to do anything substantial.

As a sniper, your job is to aim and kill; provide overwatch. Why Johnny insists on giving you praise for doing what is required of you is beyond him.

You aren't taken to below-zero temperatures as emotional support. Why you're taken at all is also another mystery.

Without your gun, you're utterly useless. And Simon proves it, time and time again during training spars at base.

He comes at you as if you're the enemy, with dangerous precision and quick movements. Simon gets enjoyment out of seeing your eyes widen when he moves, like an injured gazelle who's just spotted a ravenous lion.

His grip is bruising— the force that he slams you to the ground with devastating.

Simon can hear the air punched out of your lungs once your back hits the mat, and the time it takes for your vision to sharpen, he's already pinning you down viciously with a knee to the sternum.

Useless. Women don't belong in combat. He's seen that big brute from KorTac. He'd crush your pathetic little head under his palm, he'd kick your ribs hard enough to crack and the splintered ends pierce your lungs.

He'd kill you without a hint of effort.

And Simon intends to remind you that there is no place for weak, bitty things like you in the front lines. Unless you're to be used as a distraction by flashing your tits at the bad guys.

Out of place.

Every time you go up against him, he uses his size and strength against you, just like every other person will. He launches you across the floor with a single arm, only to watch you struggle to get up and continue this sham of a fight.

Confidence born of ignorance.

As if sheer will would ever beat physical prowess.

If your feet won't touch the ground, then the rest of your body will. Through spilled blood and bruised flesh, may you learn.

He whistles at Johnny, gesturing at him to take his place, only for the end result to be the same, albeit much more gently.

Simon watches you through half-lidded eyes as he leans up against the wall. You fight against inevitability.

Pathetic.

And then one day, you come at him with a snarl on your lips. Blunt teeth that have never had to sink into someone's neck and rip a throat out, out of utter desperation. An unblemished face that's never felt the sting of a sharp blade as it's sliced open contorted into 'rage.' Frothing at the mouth like a lap dog with rabies, barking out words that are as empty as your future.

A forceful wave of his hand abruptly halts you mid-sentence, causing you to involuntarily flinch in response. Good.

"If ya have a complaint, take it to Price. I am not obligated to humor your stupidity."

He spins on the balls of his feet, leaving you to sputter indignantly.

Then on a mission, you get shot. Simon grabs the handgun that's holstered on his chest, and places it in your bloodied hands. "Keep them off of us, or we're both dead!"

His fingers are curled around the thick strap of your tac vest as he drags you toward the LZ; his pace never faltering even while getting clipped by stray bullets. But you?

He'd think you got your legs cut off. Wailing like a cat in heat over a wound above your hip. A clean in and out, nothing vital hit.

Simon has seen Gaz fall out of a helicopter, dangle from a rope, and still use his gun. He's seen Johnny cross a town full of Graves' Shadows bleeding from his shoulder, armed with nothing but the makeshift weapons he crafted on the way to the church. Price inhaled toxic gas and made it out just fine. Even Laswell was taken hostage and didn't crack under the pressure, going as far as killing her captor with her bare hands.

And you're decomposing in front of his very eyes over a superficial wound.

Landing at base, he walks out without a glance back and heads straight for Price's office. He didn't join the 141 to babysit anyone, least of all someone who belongs in either intelligence or a kitchen.

[loudclan-clangen]

The World Ender by Lord Huron would be perfect for this moon

Anon you're so right and also I'm losing my mind over this song rn.

I had been imagining "God's Gonna Cut You Down" by Johnny Cash for this moment but this song has all the vibes I loved from that one plus lyrics that are literally perfect for Wildfirecry, this is such a good pick!

Okay, SO: 7 farm cats attacked Fiercestripe's patrol. 4 of them were killed (Coal, his two sons, and one of Bee's sons), and 3 of them survived, but were wounded (Spider, Bee's other son, and Butterfly's son). These 3are the cats that Wildfirecry tracked down and killed in Moon 29 Part 3. He didn't kill anyone but those 3 toms!

No artistic liberty here! Wildfirecry committed at least three real life war crimes!

Absolutely! There's not a whole lot more to them than what is shown. I haven't put a ton of thought into Forestclan because they're already gone, but I imagine that they were a lot more religiously focused than Loudclan is. Their Starclan literally lived in the stars, and thus they were almost everpresent during the winter, and absent in the summer, when they were believed to hide underground. For this reason, if a cat died in the summer their body must be buried in order to join Starclan, and if a cat's body could not be buried, then they would be lost to wander until the sky darkened again. On the other hand, if a cat died in the winter, they would be left out to decompose in the open air, so that their spirit could ascend up to join Starclan in the sky, and burying them would leave them lost until Starclan returned underground. The rites that Wildfirecry performed doesn't allow for either of these fates. It traps a cat's soul somewhere in the middle, suspended in the air too low to escape into the sky and to high to shelter underground. I don't know if I've talked about it before, but I don't think the valley territories have a dark forest or equivalent "cat hell", so this is truly the worst punishment that Wildfirecry can bestow upon them.

It's Fiercestripe we're talking about here, she didn't waste time with some lovey-dovey good bye. She wants vengeance just as much as Wildfirecry does, if not more, and she only has a moment to speak to him. They'll have time for softness later, for now Wildfirecry has a job to do and she's here to help him do it.

I imagine that Rosehiptree would have been the one person Wildfirecry told that he was leaving. Quietly, before he excused himself, he told her that if he hadn't returned within a moon that she needed to go to the Black Water Pool and get her lives. While Wildfirecry didn't intend to lose all of his lives, he didn't want to promise to come back when he couldn't assure it, and honestly dying and passing his lives on to his only remaining daughter to make sure she outlives her illness is not necessarily a total loss in his book. Rosehiptree did that math, and considering everything she knew about her dad, decided that he was definitely not coming home. She relied a lot on Songpaw after their conversation, and even now that Wildfirecry's back and she's doing a little bit better, she still treats him as her anchor. She knows that Wildfirecry HAD to go do what he did to be able to live with himself, she's even thankful that he did it so that she doesn't have to fear Spider coming back, but he still left her when she needed him, and Songpaw didn't.

Thank you! That's a great compliment! I think it's pretty likely that you've spotted at least one of the ships being foreshadowed in Moon 30, but the real question is did you catch them all???

[dyaz-stories]

put your arms around me and i'm home || Cha Hyun-Su x Reader

summary: In the dead of winter, you have to do a run to go get fuel for your generator. Things go wrong, but fortunately, Hyun-Su is here to save you.

word count: 3.7k

warnings & tags: canon-typical violence, gore, monsters, hyun-su and reader get injured, reader briefly thinks hyun-su is dead, monster!hyun-su makes a brief appearance, hyun-su needs a hug and he gets one!, angst, hurt/comfort, season 2 canon compliant.

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A/N: this can be read on its own, but there is another one-shot, if you're interested! for context, this takes place during season 2. reader and hyun-su know each other from high school and reader runs into hyun-su after the events of the first three episodes. reader also doesn't know that he is a monster/neohuman.

You’re not one to get caught off guard, not usually. You’ve always been cautious, measured, far-sighted. It had been an advantage back in high school, and you’re pretty sure it’s what kept you alive thus far.

Yet, in this new world that you never asked to be a part of, unforeseen complications were the norm. You could plan, and plan, and plan ahead, but here you were, freezing in your living room, because the biting cold of the lasting winter meant that you’d run out of fuel for your small generator, and everything else you used to generate electricity wasn’t functioning the way it should.

If you didn’t want to freeze to death, you had to act, and act quick.

You’d already held out a few more days than was reasonable, hoping that the weather would clear and your solar panels would be useful again, or — but you hadn’t dared to voice that thought — that Hyun-Su would come by, and you could ask for his help. He’d offered before, after all, even if he had always kept you at arm’s length whenever you’d returned the favor.

But things were dire now, and you couldn’t wait any longer, so you’re kneeling in your living-room, preparing yourself for a hazardous trip in the outside, shivering as you do. Things are dangerous enough on a good day, but the snow that’s been continuously falling only makes you dread it more. It swallows sounds, means you’ll leave tracks behind you, and you’ll consume twice as much energy just to move around.

The last thing you pack is a map, which you make sure to keep available, though you hope you won’t need it in between breaks.

You’re heading for a four-stories parking lot, where you hope you’ll find fuel in one of the cars, but that’s not the dangerous part. What’s risky is that monsters love these kinds of places, with all their nooks and crannies, all the dark places to hide, and fear already has your heart beating twice as fast as usual before you’ve even opened your door.

Still, you take a steadying breath, haul the backpack over on your shoulders, and exit the house without making a sound.

Everything is quiet outside. Snow is falling gently, and the sight would be heart-warming, if it wasn’t for all the overturned cars, the gaping hole torn into the building opposite from yours by one of those missiles a few months ago, and the worrying fresh footprints going towards the river. The snow also covers the decomposing bodies, and you can only hope that you don’t accidentally step on one as you start walking.

At least it fills your tracks behind you. By the time you’ve reached the other side of the street, which was one once an impossible task due to how bad traffic you used to be, nothing leads back to your door, and you leave with, at least, the reassurance that home will still be here waiting for you when you come back.

If you come back.

There’s comfort in knowing that you’d planned well, this time, to get to the parking lot. You get to your destination with only expected complications. You spot the monsters before they spot you. You have to reroute twice, but that had been accounted for, and you don’t even have to pull out your map. You reach the building right before noon, and after surveying it for a few minutes, you let yourself in before you can chicken out.

In the dark, you make your way to the first floor, where you will be able to have the greyish light of the day, instead of having to use precious batteries for your flashlight.

It’s not long before you’ve picked out the car, a familial minivan with an untouched baby seat in the back. You try not to think about the people it belonged to as you kneel by the side and prepare to siphon the tank. You make quick work of preparing it, with the tanks and hoses you’d brought for that purpose.

Maybe it’s your confidence that’s to blame for what happens next, or maybe it’s another one of these unforeseeable accidents. Either way, you catch movement from the corner of your eye and you jerk your head back as a reflex, but you’re not fast enough and unnaturally long claws dig into your cheek.

You manage not to scream despite the pain, scramble back and away from the van. There, standing on the roof, is a creature. Though it stands on two legs, there is nothing human about it anymore. The side of its face are sagging and drooping like it’s centuries old, covering where you assume its shoulders would be. It brings its claws to its lips, and your realize with horror that your blood is dripping from them.

Bleeding, in this world, might as well be a death sentence. You don’t bother wasting energy in stopping the tears from spilling from your eyes.

“Younnnnng,” the monster screeches. “Give— meeeeee…”

It at least snaps you out of the stupor, and you grab your bat, unwilling to go down without a fight.

But it’s not much of a fight, not when the scent and the noise are waking up all the other creatures hibernating around here.

You swing wildly as the thing, and manage to send it tumbling back. It’s only a short respite though, considering pain is only ever short lived for them, while blood is dripping down your chin and onto the concrete.

You throw your backpack on your shoulders with trembling hands and grab the first cannister that you’ve filled, abandoning the rest behind to start sprinting towards the exit.

You already know you won’t make it. You know you’ll have to run through the pitch dark ground floor, which is no doubt filled with more of those nightmares, and that the chances you’ll make it out on the other side are slim to none.

But you owe it to yourself fight until the very end.

As it stands, you don’t even make it to the downward slope that leads there. There’s the sound of something charging towards you, and then the— the head, it has to be, of a bull-like thing catches you in the ribs, and sends you flying into a car. Your breath is instantly knocked out of you, your vision goes blurry, your head starts reeling. You’re aware of the thing crashing into a concrete pillar. It at least stays there, struggling to pull itself out, but that’s barely any relief, because soon enough the first creature is calling out to you again, stretching out a skeletal arm towards you.

“Younnnnnng… Give meeeee…”

It kicks you in the ribs, and you roll onto your back, only to be met with the horrifying sight of its arm in the air, claws out and ready, preparing to cut your throat open.

You refuse to close your eyes.

And then, just as you think everything lost, someone steps in between you and the monster, blocking its arm with your very own baseball bat. You stare blankly at the large back, the unkept black hair, as the man forces it to step back and kicks it in the chest.

Then Hyun-Su turns around, and holds his hand out towards you.

He looks nothing like what you’re used to. He’s usually so lost, so hesitant, when he comes to you. Now he’s focused, purposeful, and in many ways, he reminds you of the boy you once knew, the captain of the football team who would without fail lead his team to victory.

“Let’s go,” he urges you, and when you weakly take his hand, he pulls you to your feet effortlessly.

You wheeze as the two of you run to hide behind a car. You press your free hand against your ribs, hoping to lessen the pain — it doesn’t work, of course.

“It’s going to find me,” you mumble to Hyun-Su as he keeps an eye on the thing. “It can— It can smell my blood.”

Hyun-Su’s head snaps towards you, and his expression darkens at the sight of the wound on your cheek. He lifts his hand halfway, as if to touch it, then lets it fall down again.

“You should—” Your voice breaks. “You should go. If it can find me… It’s not the only one.”

A strange expression that you can’t quite decipher passes on his face, before he shakes his head firmly.

“I’m not leaving you here.”

The relief you feel when he says those words is immediately overshadowed by embarrassment. You shouldn’t be happy. He needs to go, or he will die here with you, and what would the point be in that?

“What— What are you even doing here? How—”

You don’t know if he doesn’t answer on purpose, or if he hears a sound that takes his attention away from you.

“Can you run?” he asks you, glancing over the car.

Your body’s going to hurt like hell when the adrenaline wears out, but for now you give him a decided nod.

“Do you trust me?”

You should probably take your time to answer him, actually think about the question.

“Yes,” you answer instead, like it’s a reflex.

He exhales quietly, squeezes your hand in his.

“Then run.”

Then he’s pulling with him, running at full speed towards the open wall of the parking lot. Fear spikes through you. Even though you’re only on the first floor, it’s still too high to land comfortably. That fear is completely erased by the sight that greets you, briefly, of monsters stumbling and climbing all over each other to make their way up from the ground floor. There is a whole swarm of them teeming here already, and you can’t think of any other way to make it out alive — frankly, you have a hard time believing that this will work. But you cling to your faith in Hyun-Su like your life depends on it, because it does, and when he yells for you to jump, you do it without question.

While you’re flailing in the air, you feel him pulling you towards him. Strong arms wrap around you, and keep you caged and safe. You hit the ground brutally, rolling on the floor until you land on top of him.

“Fuck,” you mumble, painfully pushing you onto your elbows. “Hyun-Su, are— are you okay?”

The obvious answer to the question is ‘no’, and yet Hyun-Su doesn’t look worse for wear as he sits up, his eyes instead going over your body to make sure you weren’t too badly injured.

If you shiver when his hands run up and down your arms, it isn’t because of the cold.

“Let’s move,” he says, letting go of you all too quickly.

But, by the time you’re both on your feet, monsters attracted by the smell of your blood have started falling from the parking lot. The two of you sprint, but you’re no match for them and you know it. You regain the tiniest hope when you make it past a corner, thinking that maybe, just maybe, the snow will swallow your smell if you hide well enough — and then something wraps around your ankle.

In a second, you’re torn out of Hyun-Su’s grasp, and when you manage to roll onto your back to see who your assailant is, all you can do is let out an inhumane scream.

This particular monster has eight legs, like a spider, and its somewhat human torso  and head is completed by two long mandibles instead of a jaw. You manage to grab a knife from your pocket, but by the time you can cut its— web, you suppose, it’s charging towards you at full speed, and it’s close, too close for you to even get on your feet before—

When it attacks you, the first thing you see is what you first identify as a black wing, before you realize that it’s made out of a complex mix of flesh, bone and other materials that you can’t quite recognize, instead of feathers.

The wing pushes the creature back, and then Hyun-Su’s back is in front of you once more.

It’s his, you realize, brain awfully slow all of sudden. The wing. It’s attached to his shoulder, and all you can do is stare in confusion and horror. It flutters as he turns around to look at you.

You’re not fully in control when you scramble back, whole body shaking — because of the second near-death experience in ten minutes or because you’re terrified, you don’t know. What you do know is how hurt he looks, and how he turns his head the other way to face the monsters that are still coming after the two of you.

“You should run,” he says, low enough that you could miss it. He sounds hollow again. “Don’t turn around.”

You shake your head quietly, try to form some words. They all fail you. You don’t— you have no clue what’s happening. All that you know is that Hyun-Su is a monster and that he’s just used that to save your life.

The wave of monsters reach him just a few seconds later, before you’ve managed to decide anything. He pushes them back with practiced ease, one by one. You hate that you’re just sitting here, unable to move, as he fights for your life, yet your body just refuses to answer to you, even if you’re begging it to react.

Soon, the spider is the last one standing — or rather, the last one who hasn’t yet decided that you’d make a fairly meager lunch, considering how hard it is to get to you. It keeps attacking, and Hyun-Su keeps pushing it back, again, and again, until the creature manages to ensnare him in its web. Hyun-Su writhes, manages to pull his wing free, but it’s clear that he’s now at a disadvantage, and the mandibles click threateningly as the monster gets closer and closer to him.

Finally, your body agrees to react.

You run.

You don’t go very far though. You find the cannister you’d dropped and then you’re rushing back to throw the gasoline at the creature, half emptying it. The monster wasn’t paying attention to you, too busy trying to bite Hyun-Su’s head off, but its head snaps towards you when the liquid reaches it. It lets out a threatening hiss, which you ignore.

Instead, you find the lighter in your pocket.

Aim.

And throw.

The screams start right away, but it drops Hyun-Su, at least, as it tries to escape the fire.

For a second, you think you’ve made it — you’ve both made it, that is. Hyun-Su pulls himself to his feet. The wing flutters again, slowly starts to retreat back into his body to go back to a human arm.

He looks at you, expression unreadable.

And then one of the spider’s limb pierces through his chest. It’s not even calculated this time — just a movement it’s making as it tries to free itself from the flames that are consuming it.

You hear yourself scream. You don’t remember asking your body to move, this time, but you know that a second later you’re reaching Hyun-Su as he falls to his knees, and your arms are around him while you cradle him, pulling his head into your lap. Tears fall down your cheeks and onto his, as one of your hands tries, and fails, to apply pressure to the gaping wound, even if you know there is no point.

“No,” you beg. “No, no, no, no… Please, please, someone, please…”

You don’t know how many times you say it, how long you stay there. Snow starts to cover both his body and yours, and you realize you have a decision to make, if you don’t want to freeze to death. You just can’t bring yourself to do it.

Until Hyun-Su’s lifeless body arches in your arms with a gasp.

When his eyes open, they’re a clear, cold, uncanny blue.

You don’t dare to do anything then — not to let go of him, not to move away, not to break eye contact. It makes no sense, but you’re afraid that the slightest movement would have him gone again.

Slowly, his lips curve into a smirk, an expression you’ve never seen on him before. You’ve seen him smile, bright and sincere, and more recently, soft and subdued. But this amused, flirtatious smirk, that is completely new.

“You’re still here,” he comments, casually getting up, like nothing happen, like he can’t feel pain, like there isn’t a hole in his chest.

Even his voice is different. There’s a drawl to it, light and lazy, like he has all the time in the world.

“Hyun-Su?” you say, unsure of what’s happening. He was dead a minute ago. Then again, now that he’s breathing again, your brain is able to form the thought that he is a monster. An abnormal one, sure, and you don’t know enough to draw any conclusion, but it could be an explanation.

The smirk widens.

“Close enough,” he answers. “Are you scared?”

You’re not sure. You think you’re too emotionally exhausted to be scared.

“Should I be?” you ask. Maybe you shouldn’t trust this version of him to tell you the truth, and yet— All your senses are telling you that this is still Hyun-Su. And you don’t think he’d do anything to hurt you. Ever.

“It would break him if you got hurt,” not-Hyun-Su says, tilting his head. He lifts his index finger to tilt your head up. “I don’t want him broken.”

“Is he—” You interrupt yourself, unsure of what even is happening right now. But before you can start asking for answers, there is something you need to know. “Is Hyun-Su okay right now?”

He scoffs.

“He’s taking a break,” he replies. “He’s worked hard.” A beat while he seems to think about it. “Also, he thinks you hate him now.”

“I could never hate him,” you say, too easily, because it’s just the truth.

“Well, he is a monster,” not-Hyun-Su says with a shrug. He doesn’t seem to mean it as an insult, just stating a fact. You suppose he’s not wrong, and yet…

“The people I loved all turned into monsters,” you whisper quietly. Your mother, before you even made it home. Your best friend, who begged for death so she wouldn’t hurt others. Your father, who disappeared to protect you. You miss them all so much it sometimes feel like your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, and you’d give anything to have them back. So, if there is any way that you can still have Hyun-Su… “As long— as long as he’s not trying to kill me, does it really matter?”

The man watches you with interest, tilting his head to the side. It’s interesting. You haven’t been hurt by this world the way others have. Monsters caused death and destruction, but you watched half-monsters doing their very best to avoid hurting others, not unlike what Hyun-Su is doing right now.

The monster in him wonders what it would take, to destroy that ill-placed trust in others around you. The rest of him… is far too intrigued to give in. He grabs your chin between his thumb and his index finger, pulls your face closer to his.

“Doesn’t it?” he echoes your words. “What if I do hurt you?”

You swallow, call back the images of Hyun-Su easily taking out these monsters earlier. But you can’t forget that he’d been doing it to protect you.

“Y–You won’t,” you reply, even if your stutter betrays your lack of confidence.

It’s a leap of faith, but it seems to amuse him.

“For now,” he says, before his eyes roll into his head and Hyun-Su collapses in your arms.

You stumble back, barely manage to keep him up, before he seems to regain some control over his limbs and starts coughing. Even then, you don’t let go of him. You wrap both of your arms around him, head resting against his shoulder, and keep him there, against you.

Hyun-Su remains still for a while, breathing pained and ragged. The snow is still falling, but his body is warm.

“Are you okay?” he whispers with a hoarse voice.

“I am,” you answer. “Thanks to you.”

He lets out a pained sigh.

“Did he— Did he hurt you?”

You shake your head, barely moving away so you can look at him. He doesn’t look at you, keeps his eyes — black again, you note — fixedly in the other direction.

Like he can’t bear to know which emotion is on your face right now.

“I’m so happy you’re alive,” you say quietly. “I thought— I thought I’d lost you forever.”

Silence.

“Don’t leave me,” you beg, voice so low and broken you don’t think he’d hear if he wasn’t inches from you.

Hyun-Su’s body starts shaking against yours. Finally, finally, he wraps an arm around your waist, burying his head in your neck, and wet tears roll down your collarbone. In the freezing cold weather, they feel burning hot.

“Don’t hate me,” he begs in response, crying in your arms, fingers digging to the fabric of your clothes in a desperate attempt to keep you there, against him — even if there is no need for that right now.

You wish you could tell him that he just saved your life, that he’s been a guiding light in your cold, dark life this past few months, that you love him more than words can say. But that would take too long, and the situation calls for something shorter, more direct, and just as meaningful.

“You’re the only good thing about this world,” you say instead, and he sucks in a sharp breath.

Under the snow, for long minutes, Hyun-Su holds you like he never wants to let go.

When the two of you eventually detach from each other, he keeps your hand in his the whole walk home.

i hope you liked this installment! i'm probably going to write something much softer next, still for this couple (but it's hyun-su so it's still going to be angsty). if you're enjoying this, please let me know your thoughts, reblog or send in an ask. hearing from readers is so motivating and makes me want to keep writing!

next part

[owlcomics101]

Zombie Task force 141 x immune!Reader head cannons

Warnings: possible gore (We are talking about zombies here), corpses, Language (Cussing), sfw (I am a minor), fluff, Reader is gender neutral.

Context/backstory: The zombie apocalypse started few months ago. You were just a citizen, but not just any citizen, you were one of the very few who were immune to the Virus. You were being hunted by people who wanted to you use to find the cure to the virus, but that meant the cost of your life. There had to be a better way to get the cure. Right? Lasswell later found you, she was one of the very few soldiers left unaffected in the British military. Lasswell needed your help. The whole task force was infected but by some miracle they can still work. They just need someone to keep them grounded. Someone human who could take few bite or scratches. But you had no military experience, you only somewhat knew how to use a pistol and a knife thanks to the apocalypse. You were currently being escorted to an old run down base by two masked soldiers who were infected as well. You could tell by how they made groans and gurgling sounds and couldn’t take their eyes off you . You could’ve sworn you saw drool drip down from their masks. You could already see the silhouette of the task force. They have been waiting for you.

Soap: Soap was the most unstable of the group. As much as he didn’t want to bite or hurt you there has been a few close calls. Especially if you drew blood. You always kept your skin covered as much as you could around Soap. You would borrow any of the team’s old oversized uniforms and covered your arms, legs, and neck with it. Soap couldn’t help but be a bit possessive of you. Wither it be because of his urges to eat you or that you’re the only human who ever treated him and the others like people and not monsters. Whenever you were close to other zombie soldiers, Soap would tightly hold your hand the whole time. Price constantly has to remind Soap that you’re capable of taking care of yourself and to stop acting like your body guard 24/7 but he just can’t help himself. Enjoy an over protective, walking Scottish Corpse looming over you.

Ghost: Ghost was the first one of the team to be infected when the virus first broke out. He attempted to cut his jaw off to prevent himself from biting anyone before he turned but it was already too late. Soap found Ghost gurgling and groaning as he was feasting off the remains of another soldier. To Soap’s horror and relief that he also found Ghost…crying? Ghost was still conscious, somewhat at least. The team took him back to get studied and maybe even cured but that wasn’t the case. Ghost had starved himself for weeks, refusing to eat another human being again but when Soap came to check on him. Ghost lost it and bit into Soap. When you first arrived Ghost did his best to distance himself from you. He was already a distant person to begin with but he also didn’t want to hurt you like he did to Soap, despite Soap already have forgiven him multiple times. But you just kept getting closer, somehow breaking down his walls with your affection and that sweet smile of yours. That Damm smile.

Gaz: The last to be infected. He couldn’t bear to leave his team behind, even if they were zombies. Gaz stayed with them as long as he could. Trying to keep the team sane and stop them from eating everything like you are now, but one mission Gaz got bit by an enemy soldier and it was all over. Gaz is the least decomposed compared to the others, he looked the most human. Which meant he’d accompany you when going into places with People. Gaz is a bit more in control than Soap or Ghost but sometimes his mouth can’t help but water being surrounded by people. He wore a balaclava mask to somewhat muffle his senses, but thankfully you were always there to keep him grounded. Gaz tends to silently scowl or snarl when someone gets too close to you. It felt like instinct to him to keep everyone and thing away from you. Even himself sometimes, but it’s hard to when you’re always holding his hand or leaning on him.

Price: The most in control. Price sacrificed himself to save Gaz from a horde of zombies which explained his more mauled looking state compared to the others. He’s the one that bandages you up when you get wounded because the others would either go berserk or drool all over you. He acts the most human and even still smokes from his cigars which looks hilarious because when he exhales, the smoke will leave out of every cut or hole in his body. How can he smoke with rotting lungs? We’ll never know. Despite having the most self control, Price can slip up sometimes but it’s very, very rare. One time he was bandaging your bloody wrist up when you look over and see him licking and sucking the blood off your wrist.

Y/N: “Uh, captain?”

Price: “Mmm?”

Y/N: “Your doing the-uh…thing again.”

Price: wha-….Ah fucking hell….

[canisalbus]

might be an odd question, but i have a theory after noticing trends amongst artists iv known in my life and SO FAR it's rung true so im expanding sample size

IDK if u know what aphantasia is already so I'm including reference [forgive me if uv already spoken abt this also]

Where would u say u fit on the scale?

For me I cannot see an apple, I know I am supposed to, or I will see concepts of it [like how the flesh is shiny and holds water droplets but i do not SEE it nor can i hold a clear visual of anything in my mind for that matter it is always flashing IDEAS like components of a visual, never the whole thing]

I'm asking because of people I've asked about this, there's a quality of their art that [i dont know how to put into words WHY] reminds me of each other, and I'm wondering if u will give me the same answer they have because I am a curious little bastard

I'm pretty sure I'm 1? I think I might have one of those brains that operate mostly on visuals. I don't need to close my eyes to see the image in my mind, it just sort of "opens in a different window" and I'm looking at reality and the mental image simultaneously.

It's never a flat picture, I see a 3D model of sorts, and I can rotate it around, cut it into pieces, look "through it" to see it from outside and inside at the same time, and arrange it to different poses if it's a character. Sometimes when I'm drawing something, I imagine what it would feel like to touch it and hold it in my hands, and that helps me to figure out how to convey a better sense of volume and tangibility.

I also think in images (or, like, gifs?) and I've never had an internal monologue. It surprised me when I heard that some people actually have a narrator in their heads, I can't imagine what it's like.

It's not always fun though, sometimes I get pretty nasty intrusive thoughts and they come in forms of vivid and very unpleasant mental images. Like visiting a relative's grave and being hit with a crisp picture of their decomposing body. Or getting those "I could walk in front of that car/ jump down from here" call of the void thoughts and instantly getting a brain illustration of it playing out from an onlooker's point of view and what the aftermath would look like. They're most distressing when it's bad things happening to someone I care about, for example I have a really persistent one about accidentally slamming a door on my cat and seeing him crushed and dying.

Oddly enough it doesn't extend to all visual thinking. My mind's eye and visual memory work well, but I also have severe face blindness and practically nonexistent ability to form mental spatial maps of my surroundings.

[kittykattropicanna]

girlfriend, i love how we jumped straight to marriage with mechanic!Simon but I'd love to know a bit more about the phase before he managed to lock down his girl for good.

What if, her ex comes looking for her? Some prim and proper, sleek wolf of wallstreet business typa guy appears at Price's Body Shop, recognizing her car and asking about her. No idea how he found her because he usually doesn't go into these parts of town, maybe someone saw her car, maybe she forgot to turn off / delete her location app.

Sees her at the shop and tells her to come home, this part of town is no place for her, he's sorry, the other woman didn't mean anything, he wasn't serious about kicking her out, whatever, you know the drill.

She's not impressed, unfazed, cool as a cucumber because her mind is filled with her new boy toy mechanic!Simon and she keeps drifting off to last night's memory 🤭

Listen, I love a woman who stands up for herself but you really can't expect your possessive new self proclaimed boyfriend and his crew to watch silently while your ex is trying sweet talk and win you back right in front of them, right?

Also, why is Simon being so weird after? There is nothing to worry about, she thinks he's perfect and exactly what she never knew she wanted. I guess she needs to prove it to him by taking matters into her own mouth hands 🤭🤭 pamper him like no one before

Foaming at the mouth at this ask, I wrote the marriage ask before I got to this one because I really wanted to drive home how fast he preposes, but I would love to elaborate about your relationship before he preposes, you’re in a very valuable position and absolutely cling to him for support :((((( it did change a couple of small things to help the story flow better, I hope you don’t mind ;)

Si knows from the start that you're the one :((( you guys act like you've been together since high school even though you've only know each other for a couple weeks :33333 But when your friends start calling, begging you to come back home? telling you that Si is manipulative and a bad guy that's taken advantage of your venerable state >:( of course he gets insecure :((( then your ex shows up?? a man that's the complete opposite of Si, he really starts to doubt himself :((((( lucky you can show him just how much you appreciate him with that mouth of yours ;))))

tw: loosing friends, controlling ex, possessive!Simon, insecure!Simon, sub!Simon (kinda?), insinuated violence, a lot of lore in this one??? so like porn with a plot??, smut, blowjob, face fucking, deep throating, L bomb (like twice??), talk of reader submitting to Si, there's just a lot going on tbh but baby...you're a giver and THATS for sure, basically you're just looking after your mannnnn and he loves you for it

Mechanic!Simon masterlist

Regular masterlist

Obviously your friends call after they hear you broke up with your ex, they can’t find you anywhere and start freaking the fuck out! they love you so much and they’re scared shitless!!!

They only found out you were even missing because you didn’t turn up to brunch on Thursday :((

They called you, and of course you didn’t answer….you were busy ;)))

That obviously raised some alarm bells for everyone straight away, so their next point of contact was obviously your ex!!

Then the reality hit…. You had been missing since Monday night, he kicked you out after a bad fight and nobody had been able to get in contact with you……

Everyone obviously thinks worst case scenario. Car crash, kidnapping,…. maybe you ran away, or god forbid, something worse, maybe you weren’t even alive anymore, I mean, its been fucking days!!!

If someone were to have taken you, you could be out of the country by now, your body could already be decomposing somewhere never to be seen again, maybe they could have saved you if they new sooner :(((( got you the medical attention you needed before you succumb to your injuries…

Obviously everyone is going wild back home, freaking out and doing everything in their power to get in some kind of contact with you. 

But no ;))))

As your phone buzzed and pinged with messages, vibrating on Si’s bedside table as he held your naked frame against his broad chest :3333

You were fine, more then fine actually :))))

“Don’t worry about tha’ baby, answer it later they’ll be fine” Si’s morning voice muffled into your hair, strong arms tightening his grip around your waist and his hard cock pressed up against your bare arse ;))

A couple days after Si saved you and towed your car, everything that happened hit you like a ton of bricks. You were kinda disoriented and fuzzy, still a little shaken by the experience and hadn’t really processed that you were in fact living with Simon now….

The warm feeling of toned arms wrapped around you and a hard chest against your back didn’t register it first….. but you never protested :333

Droopy eyelids snapping open ungodly wide when it all hit you :( like, holy shit, there was no way you’re actually doing this, there is no way you fucked a random mechanic, let him take you home, fell asleep in his bed and then just never left????…. that’s batshit crazy behaviour! 

What made it even more jarring was from day one, when Si stirred awake he’d simply pulling you closer and kiss your temple like he’d been married to you for 30 years :3

There was no awkward small talk, no “you’ve overstayed your welcome now, i’ll drive you to a motel” or “what time do you think you’ll call a cab”, a simple kiss and a “how’d ya’ sleep princess” deep and groggy, a smirk on his lips as he kissed the back of your neck :)))

Your body relaxed instantly, for a man so big, there was a certain gentleness about him, a protective and calming aura he carried so effortlessly, you truly felt comfortable here…. It was such a strange experience but the idea of leaving his bed made you wince :(((

Even the morning routine you quickly created was natural!!

The tea and coffee lived on the top shelf of the cupboard, sitting at his two seater dining table Si happily watched your cute little arse poke out the bottom of his shirt :))) you had to hop a little bit to bring the tins forward, but all he could focus on was your bum and thighs jiggling >:((

He absolutely didn’t strategically place everything a shelf higher so he could see you do this exact thing the every morning….:333333

He was running unbelievably late for work but he couldn’t care less, the whole morning was filled with quick pecks and giddy smiles. From an outsiders prospective, nobody could guess you met a couple days ago :)))) 

Holding your waist as you make his lunch for him :)))) following every instruction perfectly :))))

Whispering “good girl” into your ear and kissing your neck gently as you pack his meal into his work bag, fat cock flush against your arse still concealed in his thick work pants, grinding slowly only relieving him slightly >:(

He wanted nothing more then to take you then and there, but the idea of you having to wait around for the rest of the day :((( thighs rubbing together and needy for him was wayyyy more appealing to come home to :( his such a meany

Leaving £100 on the kitchen counter for you, kissing you before he leaves, whispering into your lips to treat yourself :((

“You’ve had a long couple days sweethear’, get ya’ nails done for me, yeah? Get em’ pink or somthin’, okay?”

Obviously you’re memorised by this man at this point… how could you not be? 

 Agreeing with a slow nod and stars in your eyes as he kisses your nose 

Nobody had ever looked at him like that before….

“That’s ma’ girl, i’ll be home by six”

When he finally rocked up at work, Price was pissed beyond belief, Gaz was working on multiple cars at a time due to his absence and Johnny looked like he could kill him as he sat in Si’s office, a line of annoyed customers leading outside the shop.

Soap new absolutely nothing about quotes and insurance claims and all this other bullshit that Simon dealt with as the manager.

Gaz had a hundred questions for him about what he suggested for certain repairs, it was pure chaos!! 

But Si couldn’t find it in himself to be stressed, walking into the shop with a shit eating grin, completely bricked up and care free :))))

He’d never been happier then in that moment. 

But I want to fast forward to when your friends finally got a hold of you a week after you went missing….

It was the strangest surprise as well as their biggest relief when you answer. 

You were completely fine, they could basically hear you smile through the phone……

You started banging on about how you met this amazing guy named Simon, how his a super gifted mechanic, a complete gentleman and how you’re both deeply in love and never been happier!!

Reassuring them that you’re absolutely fine, better then fine actually, you’re safe and loved and don’t plan on ever going back home 

And all your girls are like 

“Babe….you can’t be serious right now? You’re not in love, you’ve been gone a week! And did you say you moved in with him!? A fucking mechanic!? Have you lost your fucking mind??? What about your job??? What about the entire fucking life you built here?!!!”

And 

“That’s it, give me the address right now, we are coming to get you immediately. You’re coming home and never talking to this weird fucking Simon guy ever again. Got it?” 

Of course they don’t understand:((((( why would they!?

You’ve finally found your person, it doesn’t matter if you have known Si for a week or a thousand weeks. You’re not fucking leaving!

This courses massiveeeee tension in you’re now ex friendship group. 

Half your girls think they should cut you off immediately, staying friends with you only means supporting the relationship and that’s something they’re absolutely not going to do >:(((

The other half think its important to keep in contact with you, they want to be there when you finally “come to your senses” and “need an out”, whatever that means :/….they even insisted on meeting Simon, just to sus out the situation and see what’s really going on, but of course you deny. 

Some even try to convince you that your ex was way better for you then Si:((((( how everyone thought you would end up getting married eventually, how there’s still time to realise you’ve made a mistake, that your ex was more then willing to take you back and everything would go back to normal!!! 

“Babe, this Simon guy is manipulative, okay? You’re emotional and vulnerable right now and his latched onto that knowing you’re going to cling to him for support. His taking advantage of you babe! I know you think you’re in love and that he says all the right things but its an act! Hello? Are you there? Can you fucking hear me!!??’

They’re just trying to ruin everything though >>:(((((( 

Your friends never saw how your ex treated you behind closed doors and they could never understand the connection you and Simon had :(

When Si came home from work to you wrapped up in a blanket and crying on the sofa, he was ready to kill whoever caused you so much pain….when he found out it was actually your friends, his heart ached for his poor girl :(((

“Listen to me petal, look me in the eyes, you don’ owe them anythin’, they jus’ don’t understand, alrigh’ don’t cry baby, come on” 

Wrapping his big musealy arms, covering you in his post work sweat and musk as you cling to his oily work shirt :((((

Of course you end up cutting off your friends. They could never understand what you and Simon had, if they really cared about you, they’d at least act like they were happy for you, not rip into you and try and push the narrative that you’ve been “manipulated” and “taken advantage of” while in a “venerable state” ://

Si absolutely agreed as well :( you didn’t need to worry about them anymore, they’re in the past and you’re moving forward with your life, its not your fault they haven’t grown up yet ://

Plus!!!! He would love to introduce you to Prices wife and the other girls at the bar he regulars…. Sure they may be a little older and all have children but you’re such a mature girl :((( you’ll get along with them just fine :3 

Its definitely not because he wants to bring you around his friends chubby babies, planting the seed in your mind subconsciously, or consciously about having your own little family ;)))

Start taking the steps to really integrate you in his life and friendship circles ;))))))

He knows what his doing :3

You get along with everyone so well too, girls wine nights, being invited over to friends houses for dinner <3

Simon tucking his hard cock into the waist band of his boxes as you bounce one of your friends babies on your hip and coo to them :((((

You would be such a good mama to his babies :( your genetics mixed with his would make the cutest little humans and the image of you pregnant that won’t leave his mind is starting to drive him absolutely fucking feral :(((

Life is so good for you and Si at the moment :((((( of course your stupid fucking ex would come around and try to ruin it for you…..all for him…..

Your ex couldn’t of been more different from Si :(

Clad in a business suit and ridiculously expensive watch, a clean haircut, pure leather business shoes and smelling of expensive cologne, he absolutely stuck out when his Tesla pulled into the shop carpark…. 

An obviously disgusted look on his face as he entered the front office, not trying to hide his disapproval as he looked at the chipped paint that peeled off the walls and the overwhelming smell of fuel that had seeped into everything within a 50 meter radius, buttoning his suit jacket and dramatically watching his step as he walked on the stained concrete that covered the front office floor :////

Your ex was such a pretentious prick >:( if it wasn’t high luxury, he’d look down on it like it was dirt :/

The thing is, he didn’t actually care where you were after he kicked you out, he just assumed you would end up on a friends couch or something. The idea that you would run off with a random “dirty” man and enter a relationship literally hours after he broke things off enraged him. 

But everything changed when he got the news you were living with “Si” a couple hours away and you were “deeply in love” with him. 

He played the “distressed”, “regretful” boyfriend to your friends, trying to get as much information out of them as possible under the pretence of “keeping you safe”

Yeah…..right :///

His ego couldn't handle it! How dare you just move on like he was nothing!!! sleep in another mans bed without regret and start a new life with him not even being an afterthought!!!!>:( 

You were meant to be heartbroken!!! Turn up on his doorstep and beg for his forgiveness as he laughed in your face :((

But you just moved on?????

He wasn't having that. 

You were supposed to worship him, not replace him with some piece of shit mechanic >:(

Your friends fed him a lot of useless information, But there was one sentence that tied it all together. 

In the middle of your rant about how much you loved Simon, you mentioned he worked at “Price’s Motor Repairs”

Nobody had heard of any repair shop with that name from around the area, but it was enough information for your ex to track you down…

Alarm bells went off in Simons head when he saw him walk in. He wasn’t from around these parts, that much was certain, and the way his eyes snaked over his name tag and an almost cocky grin spread across his face, he new something was up and it wasn’t good. 

Your ex definitely turned up at like 5:59, a minute before Si was meant to close just to make it as inconvenient as possible for him >:/

Si never asked about your ex, he didn’t want to know. He didn’t care what his name was or what he did for a living, all he new was that he was a dickhead and that was enough to put him off. You were his now, your ex wasn’t relevant :((((

It didn’t even cross Si’s mind that this guy could possibly be your ex. It was probably just some wanker that broke down while he was passing through. So he gritted his teeth and walked outside to check out this “broken” car 

It felt like a wild goose chase. He claimed there was something wrong with the motor, he checked it out, there was nothing wrong. He then claimed his AC wasn’t working, he checked it out, there was also nothing wrong. 

This went on for about 20 minutes before Simon snapped >:(

“There aint nothin’ wrong with ya’ car mate, get that fuck out of er’ before ya’ start wishin’ ya’ did”

Snarky and satisfied, your ex left without a fight, pulling out of the shop and parking far enough down the street that he could see Si pulling out of the shop and heading home…. Leading him to directly to you without a fight….

He followed behind at a safe distance. Far enough away that Si didn’t notice he was being followed, Poor Si was beyond tired, paired with the dim lighting of the sun going down, he didn’t even notice someone was tailing him:(( he was on autopilot :(

All he wanted to do was get home to you, eat his hot meal that you prepared for him and slug on the couch with a beer, you cuddled up against him and block the outside world out for the evening :((

But after arriving home, the second he sat down for dinner, three obnoxiously loud knocks echoed off the front door.

When you saw he didn’t move, you stood up to answer it for him 

“Jus’ leave it lovie, can’t be anythin’ important this time of night”

You explained there was an older lady that lived a couple apartments down, she started developing dementia and was in the early stages, she could still look after herself but often forgot small things like buying eggs from the grocery store or how to turn the TV on, she asked you for help all the time!!! and you were sure it was just her!! Of course it was! Who else could it be!

Simon wasn’t convinced. There was no way an old lady could knock with that much force.

He followed behind you hesitantly watching you swing the door open with a smile, only to reveal the piece of shit that was at the shop an hour earlier…

Si was honestly confused as fuck for a second, only for it to all fall into place when this guy started calling you “baby” and demanding for you to come home…..

His first instinct was to pull you behind him, he was beyond shocked when your ex grabbed your wrist with force, making sure Si couldn’t move you out of his line of sight without hurting you…

“Baby, you are coming home now, look at the state of this.. this.. drug addicts flat! you’re coming home with me immediately, stop fucking resisting!” Your ex spat getting more and more enraged by the second

You couldn’t go home, you were home, Si was your home :( But before you could get a word out, Si had your ex by the bicep, the pure force of the grip sending him into cold blooded shock, muscles tensing he lets go of your wrist out of pure shock :((

“Get inside n’ lock the door” he mumbled lowly before slamming it so hard the framework shook violently, you swore the hinges could of given way :((((

Once Si finally returned, you could tell there was something wrong :( something about the way he wasn’t all over you like normal, there was a purposeful distance he put between the two of you, almost like he didn’t want you there :((

After poking and prodding him, it all finally came out 

“Ya’ know I could never give ya’ the life that he could doll…. All that fancy shit” a coldness behind his eyes, almost defeat taking over his expression :(

“I know I aint ya type baby, you’re one of them high class type, ya’ don’t belong down ‘ere with me….I’ll drive ya’ back in the mornin, okay? I’m not taken no for an answer, go start packin’’” :((((

He was so defeated, if you could see his heart you could of sworn it was ripped into separate pieces :((

He went on for a good 10 minutes like this, you know he was doing what he thought was in your best interest, but Jesus Christ did it sting :(((

Little did he know your ex was almost £50,000 in credit card debt, you payed for almost everything during the duration of your relationship :((( he never treated you to any sort of luxury like Si did :( never got you flowers or paid for your nails….

He truly thought that your ex had a one up on him…. That you would consider going back to him because of his “wealth”???

Getting off the couch and slowly sinking to your knees in front of him, you reach for the belt of his pants, slowly undoing his buckle :((

His mind is racing so much, so paranoid and distracted that he didn’t notice the sound of the metal being undone :((((

He always focused on your pleasure, making you feel wanted :(( it was your turn to appreciate him, with actions this time :333 

Si completely stops mid sentence when your warm, delicate hand palms his soft cock :(((9 

He looks down at you slowly, all worry leaving his body as he sees you down on your knees, submissive eyes looking up at him threw your eyelashes and pout on your face waiting for his reaction :(((

You could never leave Si :((( you needed a real man :(( you needed the man in front of you with his thighs spread wide and cock hardening right before your eyes :(((

Palming him agonisingly slow, he grinds against your touch desperate for more friction :((( you tell him how you’d never leave him :(((( how his the only one for you and you couldn’t survive in a world like this without him by your side looking after you the way he does :((

Soft grunts leaving his lips as he pleads with you to take out his length and stroke his now hard, aching cock >:(

“I know baby, I was stupid to think tha’, I know, jus’… jus’ pump it for me yeah?’” Growing increasingly desperate as you don’t follow his command >:( telling him you’re looking after him tonight and that he doesn't need to worry :(( how its his reward for being so big and strong, defending you from your ex and being a man :(( that all he needs to do is relax :((

He audibly whines, a sound you had never heard from him before, when you finally slip his girthy cock out of his boxes.. .

You smile up a him as you kiss his tip and squeeze your thighs together at just the thought of pleasing him and not receiving any physical pleasure yourself :))))) 

Letting out a soft feminine giggle as pre cum covers your lips, Si having no choice but to sit helpless and watch the show you’re putting on for him :(((

He could absolutely take the lead if he wanted to, but something about you treating him, sucking his dick solely because you wanted to and not expecting anything in return was an offer you couldn’t turn down ;)

Teasing Si was fun but he deserved more tonight :((((( if it was up to you, lapping at his swollen tip for hours until he finally releases a desperate hot load onto your face would be a dream, but not tonight, Si gets everything tonight ;)

Slowly circling his leaky tip with your thumb, a soft groan falls from his lips as he sinks further into the couch :(((

Pumping him lightly, you place soft kisses from the top of his cock to his base :(((( Si bucking his hips and pleading with you threw his eyes just to suck it :((((( he tries so hard to hide his whines through deep groans but fails horribly :((( he was so tired tonight, emotionally and physically, any self control he would normally have was out the window :((

Taking your tongue, you lick from the base to the tip, salty sweat and pre cum filling your taste buds as your tongue glides up his vainy shaft :(

Si jerks forward a little at the sudden warm contact, throwing his head back as he eases into the warm sensation :3333

Without hesitation, you deep throat his 8 inch length, his tip hitting the back of your throat and your eyes watering instantly :((

Si’s callused hand instinctively grips your hair, rough grunts bounce off your apartment walls as he helped you set a ruthless pace, your mouth being abused and jaw aching from his sheer girth :(((

“That’s it Darlin’, fuck ya’ such a good girl for me, look at ya’ look at tha’ beautiful fuckin’ mouth taken’ me” 

Holding your head still as he throat fucks you, your saliva dripping down your chin and onto the dirty cream carpet that covers the living room floor:(((

Seeing the small bump of his cock appear at the front of your neck with each brutal rut :(( your flushed cheeks and teary eyes make a small cocky smile spread across his face >:( 

You were his! All his! Claiming your throat and having full control over how he fucks it makes his achy balls tighten as they slap against your chin :((

“That prick could never fuck you like I could, he’ll never feel ya’ fuckin throat again” he was so close to his release :((( Si was normally really good at holding off but the possessiveness of claiming your mouth with thick cum was pushing him over the edge in a matter of minutes :((((

Grabbing your hair tighter, he forcefully makes you deep throat his dick, your nose touching his pelvic bone and buried in his musky pubes <3 moans from your full mouth muffled by his cock shoved deep into your throat >:((

He cums hard…slow, deep thrusts as ropes of his salty seed run down your throat, you have no choice but to swallow his semen that his so politely given you :((

With each thrust, he lets out a quiet and strained “mine”. Its more to himself then you, reassuring himself that you were in fact his and his to keep :((

You remove your abused mouth from his cock, slowly pumping his now semi-hard dick with a dopey smile on your face, cum leaking out the corner of your mouth as you innocently look up at him and place a kiss on his swollen tip :))

You look so beautiful, covered in his cum and claimed :)

He leans down to kiss you, a thank you for what you did for him, but before he could even open his mouth you whisper a quite “I love you” into his lips… 

the first “I love you” you and Simon had ever shared :((

Its safe to say he said it back :333

And he says it again with his face inbetween your legs a minute later ;)))

okay, okay, okay, I know I promised to upload this after work like....days ago BUT I totally forgot I had a concert on and didn't have time to finish writing it AND THEN this guy im talking to came over to meet my dad and everything just pilled up im so so so sorry...BUT in my defence, this is over 4k which is my longest fic ive written so far, I love y'all I promise

Request are open for Mechanic!Simon, I would love to hear your thoughts so feel free send them through and add to the AU.

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