#bc i love draft horses

[ganondoodle]

(desperate attempt to find my drawing spirit again number ?? )

this time .. unicorn centaurs?

[fumifooms]

I think some inherent comfort of the party’s relationship, of why they’re so tightly knit and wholesome, is that it’s kinda the embodiment of "people that care for each other unconditionally, so much so that you could be the biggest freak on Earth and they would still not turn their back to you". Like, Laios’ whole character arc is that he was scared of others and their judgement, that he should hide a big part of himself and his interests to be tolerated if not accepted… But showing himself to others was the road through which the party bonded and got closer, and by the end of the story Laios literally turns into his monster because it was his biggest wish and everyone sees it and also he eats his human body a lot. After that he runs to the woods and is so scared of everyone not wanting to see him again, but y’know what. It’s fine his party still loves him, and aghhhh ouch my heart

I think also, Izutsumi was central to the party having a found family feel. The party was mostly made of work colleagues acquaintances, but adopting a stray/teenager that has no one on the way in your grand adventure really makes the whole family vibe skyrocket.

[shirogane-oushirou]

fighting off a little panic attack (yay yippee) and i'm soooooo tempted to start working on the poke!ren tag to keep myself distracted even though he's still so /gestures vaguely/ right now kJNSKJFNJK ARGH!!!!!!!

[linklore]

ok the potential argument of centaurs having more weight on their forehand = more potential pain is kind of. wrong??? i know human torsos are kinda heavy but theyre not really any heavier than a horse's head and neck considering the amount of muscle in them, and most of their weight is carried on the forehand anyway. they're built for that shit already, and if a centaur is also moving properly biomechanically (aka not being heavy on the forehand) they're not really gonna have that many issues. i understand wanting to figure out anatomy logistics, and i agree, its interesting, but in this case it just doesnt make sense to give them more problems

[elegyofthemoon]

i am still devastated i cannot adopt an alpaca from brodia like wtf am i supposed to do make amber happy huh???

like the AUDACITY for them to make a little model of an alpaca for his ally notebook AND NOT GIVE IT TO ME >:( 0/10

[joleneghoul]

Two Fallout protags and their animal friends!

More info/rambling under cut!

The Lone Wanderer (Al) and Dogmeat the wasteland mutt!

She canonically in my stuff has two puppies, which Al, because while he is a medic, he is not a vet, thought she was just fat/had worms until they appeared.

This is kind of my version of fo3's Dogmeat, i realize in the game, dogmeat is a boy dog, but I always bc of the fact puppies can appear in the cave of vault 101 just been like "omg what if girl".

Al doesn't really know much about dogs in general, but when he realized Dogmeat wasnt going to stop following him around, he was pretty fucking stoked about it.

Heres a doodle of the orange sized babies

Courier Six (Deano) and his trusted horse Rosemary + Rex the cyberdog!

When Deano found out the Kings dog was sick, being someone who cares deeply for animals (the health of them, the training, the care, etc), agreed to find him a new brain w.o any questions. In Deano's ideal future, he has 6 dogs, so he very much enjoys his time traveling with Rex.

Rosemary is a former working draft from a ranch near the Rio Grande Valley. She has been with Deano since before he was a courier (around 8 years). She loves to steal hats off peoples heads, much to Rex's delight and everyone elses annoyance.

She is very desensitized because of the life they have lived but terrified of motorcycles.

A fun fact: She has killed multiple people.

He teaches Rex how to handshake for iguana bits despite the much touted myth "you can't teach an old dog new tricks". Yes, he shows everyone this.

Also, not shown here are the various stray dogs and other animals he picks up/saves along his travels much to (sometimes) the dismay of his companions.

Rosemary the Horse based on the Sleipnir breed by @owligator !

[tmwcs]

Bad Boy

Warnings: reader experiences sexual harassment/potential assault from an unnamed ex-bc, rough smut, smut with a stranger, implied creampie, breeding kink…

Who is the bad boy? 😏

She’s a good girl, crazy about Elvis. Loves horses, and her boyfriend too…

I’m a bad boy…for breaking her heart.

Tonight was the night when the major football game took place. It was a make it or break it moment for your college football team as the game would dictate and highlight the most select players to be drafted for professional football. You and your friends joined up and gathered around the best set of bleachers. You had to. Your boyfriend was the team's quarterback and you had to be in the front row to cheer him on.

Things had been edgy between you two. The ongoing arguments were likely a result of the stress of tonight’s game and finals combined. It was more arduous for him, as he was in his final year of college, whereas you had just barely begun. Still, the hardship of maintaining a relationship and your grades wasn’t easy, regardless that you were a newbie to campus.

The score was close, yet in the end, your boyfriends team emerged victorious and earned their way towards a bright future.

He drives you back to your dorm, where both your friends would meet up for some drinks, or so you thought.

“Let’s hang tight and have some one-on -one time after everyone leaves.” He tells you. You felt a bit uneasy, considering he was giving you that look when you both had barely spoken to each other.

Left alone with him on the bleachers, you started the conversation, trying to establish closure.

“Look, I’m sorry about the fights. I know we haven’t really spoken much, and only made up yesterday but I want you to know I am very proud of you.”

He looks over but doesn’t make any effort to converse back, instead he hums a hollow tune as he begins to pull the sleeves of your dress downward. “Wait! What are you—“

He doesn’t even make eye contact, instead he becomes rather forceful in all the wrong ways. “Come on you like it when I’m rough.”

You used to…

Back before the arguments, you used to dig the idea of your boyfriend tossing you around and going all in like a Viking while you took it. But this time was different, you didn’t really feel that strongly for him anymore. It was something you wanted to refrain from bringing up until later, but now seemed to be the time to let him know that…

“I think we should break up…”

“What?”

“I…I know about what you did with…with her.”

Yeah. Maintaining a relationship is hard when you’re studying and trying to earn top grades. But it’s a lot harder when rumors of your boyfriend's infidelity becomes a popularized topic among your peers. To make the wound deep was that it was with your best friend that he was conducting the affair with. Last night, you saw the photos on her phone after she passed out, and as angry as you were, you didn’t have the heart to force any type of drama until after the big game.

“Okay…so I slept with her a few times. But I promise it was only during your periods.”

You shot a scorned look. “I saw the dates in the pictures.” Hinting at the timeline not meeting up, he sighed as he continued while you did your best to shove him off.

“Stop…I said stop!”

You began shouting when suddenly, a popping sensation stung your cheek. You were shocked as you realized he had just slapped you, but it didn’t become reality until the tangy taste of blood dripped from your lip.

He pushes you down and takes advantage of your short floral dress, and positions himself in between your legs as he rushes to undo his belt. You yell out and flare a series of kicks as you try to get away, yet he overpowers your attempts as he pins his weight down on your body. Plastering the sides of your face with his kisses, you shove and sneered away as you continued with your attempts, though it was all futile. Exhaustion begins to take over and you sense the horrifying loss as you feel the tip of his member poking your inner thigh as he tears your panties.

Suddenly…

“What the—“

The weight of his frame is lifted so abruptly off you as you face forward and gain a clear vision of what was going on.

“Get the fuck ou—“

The sound of your boyfriend's voice is halted still and shut as you hear the audio smack of knuckle meeting his jaw, or perhaps it was his cheek. It happened so fast that you couldn’t make out the difference, all you know was that you saw the one that conducted the deed.

Flinging him off as if your boyfriend was a ragdoll, you watched as the strong arms of your savior become tender as he leans forward and kneels, presenting you a hand. He doesn’t say a word, instead he nods as he implies for you to take it. He pulls you back up on your own two feet, and rushes you under his arm while he takes you back to his car nearby. The slight bit of cigarette smoke and the musk of his cologne mixed together impaled your nostrils as he opened the door and tucks you in the front passenger seat.

You recognized him. He was in the same year as your boyfriend…or former boyfriend actually. He was somewhat of an outcast, not one that you ever really conversed with though you normally spotted him hanging out at the bleachers smoking and joking with his equally delinquent friends. Dressed in jeans, a fitted tee with a flannel over shirt left unbuttoned, it was obvious that he wasn’t dressing to impress anyone.

He starts the old steel vehicle and drives off. Once he hit the main road, he finally spoke.

“Where’s your dorm? I’ll take you there.”

You shook your head as you started to sob once more, only quietly this time. Fingering the shredded tatters of your dress, you hang your head low as the silky strands drape over, hiding your face. “Please…just take me to the airport. I can’t be here….everyone is at my dorm and I don’t want to see anyone…I just want to go back to my home.”

He doesn’t say a word. The sound of the steering wheel turning left, then right, was all the noise that filled the entire car ride until finally he puts it in park.

He really took you to the airport?

“Come on.” He sighs as he hops out and opens the door for you.

“This…where are we?”

“We’re in my frat home.”

“F-frat? You’re a part of a fraternity?” Your surprised tone causes him to smirk as he walks you to the front door. “Yeah, I know.” He nods, already aware of the presumptive appeal that is otherwise an irony. “I’m a bad boy, but that doesn’t mean I’m stupid.”

You’re not sure what made you even more confused, the fact that the college delinquent belonged to a frat or that he actually earned decent grades and was a promising student.

He walks you to his room quietly as he fixes the bed. “You sleep here.” Grabbing onto a spare comforter, he makes his own little nest on the small loveseat on the opposite end. You felt so humbled at the fact that the man was willing to lend you his bed while he prepared to sleep on such a small couch, considering his height and stature.

“Thank you…but I really don’t want to inconvenience you. I feel a lot better now, I think I should leave you alone. I don’t want to be trouble and get you involved—“

“I want to be involved.” His tone was deep and somewhat hoarse as he smiles, switching his gaze down to the floor before making their way back to you. “I’ve been wanting to get involved ever since I first saw you at the bleachers…when you came for orientation.”

His confession made your heart melt as you raised your eyebrows with peak interest. “Y-you did?”

He nods. It never occurred to you that you would catch the eye of a delinquent, just like you never realized that closeup, the man was actually quite handsome.

His lengthy strands delicately framed his brows as he steps closer.

“I…” he begins before taking a slight pause. “I can turn your night around…and do it the right way, unlike that scumbag.” He proposes.

At any other given time, you’re quite sure you would have rejected, regardless how dashing he may have appeared. But with the way he came to your aid and was presenting you the opportunity to consent, your heart faltered. “…show me.” You whispered.

He softly rubs your cheek as he swipes the dried blood from your lip. “It’s going to hurt…and I’m going to fuck you hard…remember, I’m a bad boy. There are no…safe…words…y/n.”

He knew your name.

You felt the tingle ringing in between your legs as he outlined the aggression of his passion and proposal. To hell with soft sex anyhow, you wanted it.

“Please…show me. I’ll take whatever you’re willing to give. Just turn this night around.”

He smiles. “Good girl.”

He pulls you in as his strong hands colored your entire body. Finishing what that bastard tried to do earlier, the man before you was a true man as he tore off your dress, but never lost the velocity of his tenderness and passion.

He sucks on your neck as he takes a fistful of your hair and aggressively pulls your head back, only to balance the moment out with him tenderly licking the bite wound. Reaching down, he inserts two of his fingers. They were cold and sharp with the way he injects them, yet immediately warmed up as your walls soothed the shocking temperature and created a beautiful sensation. His coarseness with your silky flesh, mending together as he thrusts his hooks in and out, starting off slow and steady, gradually increasing in tempo.

“Oh….oh my God!….”

“Tell me how good it feels baby…” he whispers as he nibbles on your lobe.

“Mmmph!” You bite down on your lip as you hang on by the clinging grip of his muscular biceps. Lifting your leg, you hook it around his waist as you yearn for more, in which he gladly obliged.

He looped his free hand under your kneecap and propelled you up and back as he slams your body on the bed. He coats your entire body with kisses as his fingers continue to thrive in and out of your womanhood. Finally, he releases his internal hold on you and presents his flick digits to your lips. You took the hint and licked the glistening coating off, until he shoved them into your mouth altogether, inheriting a whole new line of moans from your throat.

The sound of his jeans coming undone slightly echoed as he buries his face into your neck, mumbling against your skin while he tells you how beautiful and delectable you appear underneath him. With the tip of his nose pressed against your cheek, and his lips plastered against yours, he smiles. The stretch of his grin could be felt against your cherry stained pout, igniting a gasp as you felt yourself gush in front of him.

He takes the bold tip of his cock and slowly slides it in. “Ah! Y-you’re too big!”

“Fuck yeah I am.” He whispers rather ferociously as he continues to go in deeper…and deeper.

“I told you…I’m a bad boy…a big…bad…boy.” He grunts in between his words as he presses forward, burying his thunderous rod deep into your walls.

He settled once he was all the way in. “Ready to get fucked girly?”

You eagerly nod as you catch your breath, or try to. The moment he garnished your final consent of the evening, you were down for.

He draws out his length, slowly. As soon as you feel he is about to fully exit, he rams it all back in. Each of his inches swarms back into the cavity, but it didn’t stop there. Pumping it vigorously, he maintains a solid pace as he reaches further and deeper into you. What was this feeling? This sensation? It was mind blowing. Compared to all the instances when you engaged in sexual contact with your ex, none of them had ever amounted to the rage this man was taking out on you. He was massive, rough, hard, but also soft and tender. He was both black and white, your Heaven and Hell. He was…he was….

“I-I…I can’t breathe! Oh God! Please don’t stop fucking me!”

He continues to pump his shaft harshly and tenderly as he stilts himself on his kneecaps and rubs his thumb on your clitoris. In circulation motion, he gives the external stimulation of pleasure to pair with the drumming throb you felt inside.

“That’s it girly, let me fuck you real good. You’re doing so well, you know that?”

His stiff member thrusts in and out repeatedly. His testicular sacks slap into you, staining the under skin of your vaginal opening bright red as he jams into you. Your body absorbs the impact and shifts around. Like a ragdoll, you felt yourself being tossed by the momentum of his thrusts as your body went left, then right, only for him to grab you by the arms, pinning them to your sides as he straightened you back to center and never breaking the pace.

“Na-uh. Gotta stay still for me baby, we’re going to do this the right way…me and you.”

Your eyes remained squinted shut at the immense pleasure that rampaged in between your legs, yet the vagueness of his words caused you to reach for clarification. “The r-right way? Uh!” You gasped out as you felt the pinch of lightning pleasure the moment he flexed inside you.

“Yeah baby…the right way. Gonna turn us into parents—ah! Fuck!…gonna make you mine forever. Whadya say?”

It was careless, risky, and completely irresponsible…but it made it even more dangerously sinful and absolutely pleasurable. At that moment in time, you didn’t care about anything or anyone, you wanted him. All of him.

He pumps faster and harder, causing your breaths to shorten as you gasp for air while moaning your heart out. “Oh my God!”

“Fuck yeah baby.” He gasps as his rhythm increases. The shortness of his breath indicates he was close as his abdominal region moves at an awesome speed, back and forth as he pummeled into you wildly. Sensing that you were close as the squelching grew louder, he bids you to come undone as the knot snaps in your lower gut.

“Cum on it. I want you to cum on me baby.”

You released and let it all go as you felt loss of control in your body. The shakiness lasted for an eternity as you grabbed your own breasts and gripped onto his forearm for dear life.

“Fuck, make me cum baby.” He grits as he plunges one last time, deeper into you than before. A second later you feel the warmth of his seed staining your walls as he collapses against your frame, declaring his honest love as he decorates your face with small kisses. “Stay with me baby. I’ll never let anything happen to you, let me take care of you and be the one.”

It was like cupid’s arrow struck gold. A product of love and passion emerged as you wrap your arms around his neck and pulled him in. Here all along you thought the night was going to end terribly when your ex didn’t take your breakup well, only for it to end blissfully as your savior became the one to do the unexpected. Kissing him, you released as it occurred to you…

“I don’t even know your name…” your voice trembling as you recover your composure from the exploding shot of pleasure that still rhymed within your womanhood, even after he stopped and rested inside.

Riddling a tune, he softly says his name into your ear. His voice came out almost haunting in the most delightful sense as each letter tickled your canal. It was foreign and he exotic, and he knew how to get you to speak it aloud.

“Say it with me baby, S-u-n-ghoon.”

“Sunghoon?”

He paused as he bites his lip. “Oh fuck baby…when you say my name….it just….come here now.”

You feel yourself being dragged down towards him as he plasters baby kisses on your inner thigh. Through the overstimulation that robbed you of your other senses, you allowed him to continue. You would have been a fool to stop him, after all, it was a perfect night to make up for lost time, considering you spent all your life with the good boys. Now that you got a taste of you bad boy, you’re not sure if you ever want to be good again. It’s better to be bad.

[jesuistrestriste]

As much as i adore our sweet little art, and his moans and whimpers, im still waiting for our dilfy dodge… i love him so much 😭😭

i definitely have been thinking about writing for dodge again b/c its been sooo long?

i think if i do, i'll make sure to write smth up for dilf dodge bc i still have that draft set up lmao :,,)

i think he'd definitely be such a girl dad. you'd think he'd be built for being a boy dad, but noooo. he loves his girls <3 he loves teaching them how to ride horses (lil ponies at first, and then grown horses when they're a bit older); like holding their backs as they sit in the tiny saddles UGHH ! and he'd give them his cowboy hat when they play pretend ! and he cuddles with them before bed + reads them stories ! i love u dodge mason

(i know this was a smut related ask but.. im soft rn for dilf dodge.)

[rottenpumpkin13]

HAHHAHA! Nothing’s stopping me from doing it TWICE!

BEAUTIFUL PERSON AWARD! Once you are given this award you're supposed to paste it in the asks of 8 people who deserve it. If you break the chain nothing happens, but it's sweet to know someone thinks you're beautiful inside and out 💕

(Bc you deserve a million of these, seriously!! But I will also send an ask to not waste your time x,D)

What are AGSZC’s YouTube search histories? >:3c

I've been wanting to tell you this for the longest time: the cable protector for my laptop charger is a Pikachu! It often kills my writer's block because I can feel its (positive) judgmental stare whenever I don't write. A+ involuntary Pichu motivation! Unfortunately I glanced at the ask this morning and completely mistook the question while I was drafting it at work

( ╥ ᴗ ╥) I unhelpfully present you:

AGSZC Google Search Histories

CLOUD:

• What to do if being stalked

• What to do if being stalked by dead man

• What to do if being stalked by dead man and mother

• Writhe meaning

• What does it mean when someone says writhe for me

• Was Sephiroth queer when he was alive

• How to talk to people without making it awkward

• Why is my memory poor

• How to tell woman I love her

• How to kill someone once and for all

• How to be a good puppet~

• HOW TO STOP MIND CONTROL IMMEDIATELY

GENESIS:

• Who would win in a fight Genesis or Sephiroth

• Genesis Rhapsodos aesthetic

• How to bully people in a goddess honoring way

• Genesis Rhapsodos video compilations

• Cowboys

• Where to rent horse

• Is Masamune heavier than Rapier

• Masamune weight

• How to fix a broken sword

• Super glue strong enough to hold sword together

• How to hide broken sword from friend

• Sephiroth sword replica for sale

• Where to buy replica of Sephiroth's sword

• How to convince a friend their sword was always broken

• Can a sword just break on its own

• Sephiroth x reader fanfiction

• Logical reasons for sword to break on its own

• Acting tips for looking surprised

• How to gaslight your friend

• How to deflect blame in conversation

• How to avoid eye contact when lying

• How to create a distraction during a confrontation

• How to flee the country

SEPHIROTH:

• Benefits of owning a cat

• Sephiroth costume

• BDSM meaning

• Name for device that extinguishes fire

• Fire extinguisher for sale

• Haunted by the faces of people long gone what do I do

• How to stop sitting on my hair

• Am I gay quiz

• Angeal Hewley shirtless

• What does it mean when you dream about being held by blue alien mother

• How to dream about blue alien mother more often

• Situations where it is appropriate to say fuck

• Can I say fuck randomly

• Where to look for items when you misplace them

• Where could I have misplaced my sword

• How to donate effectively to social causes

• Videos of people crying in regret after cutting their hair

• Can you consume a salt lamp

• DTF meaning

• Milf meaning

• Slang terms to use to sound normal

• Silly cat videos

• Why is piracy wrong

• Free movies watch online HD

• How to make protein shake taste like pasta

• Am I depressed quiz

• Spaghetti recipe

• How to put out kitchen fire

• How to remove spaghetti from ceiling

ZACK:

• Sephiroth bald

• can you die from licking batteries

• can you die from inhaling cheese puff dust

• Apple bottom jeans

• boots with the fur

• Reebok's with the straps

• Why does my husband look at other women

• Is it safe to eat pinecones

• Are moogles real

• How to befriend a moogle

• Can you die from licking hair gel

• What are the implications of string theory for quantum gravity in multidimensional spacetime

• Sephiroth x Genesis Rhapsodos fics

• How to explode things using mind

• Cool dog collar jewelry

• Cool dog collar jewelry SFW

• Sunflower tattoo

• Is it normal to kiss your friends

• How to kiss friends in a bromance way

• How to tell if I'm psychic

• Intersectional feminism

ANGEAL:

• Empanada recipe

• Where to hypothetically hide a body

• Tzatziki recipe

• Signs you're in a polycule

• Am I in a polycule how to tell

• Is it normal to plan your own funeral ahead of time

• Valid coupons printable

• Is it normal to vent to your houseplants about your problems

• Used dog cage for sale

• How to make friend realize that dreaming of blue alien mother isn't normal

• How to approach fact that friend needs therapy in conversation

• How to fix sword in case it ever breaks randomly

• Good gifts for teenagers with ADHD

• Chainsaw for sale

• Is a chainsaw a good gift

• Why am I so tired all the time

• Why is it that every time you search something online the internet makes you think you have an incurable disease

• Fun team building activities

• How to convince coworkers that trust falls are safe

• How to stop bleeding fast

• Encouraging words to calm down panicking crowd

• paramedic number

[nathanbatemanfucker]

The Dead Horse

summary: santi brings you back to reality.

pairing: fem!black!reader x santi garcia

contents: angst & fluff— happy ending, canon typical violence, blood, gore, ptsd, depression, feelings of hopelessness, friends to lovers, kissing

wc: 2,419

an: this has been sitting in my drafts for a while now bc of nerves, but always wanted to write Santi with a black love interest. planning to dip my toe into that pool more in the future 🥰

oscar issac characters masterlist

You don’t know how long you’ve been sitting here like this. It could be minutes, hours, even days. In these four walls beneath the shower’s spray, there is nothing that matters. Not even you, not anymore. And while you’re usually the first to be cheery, to tell each of the guys that the work they do— the work you all do together— doesn’t compromise the goodness you see in their hearts, you’re having a hard time believing that right now.

Not with what you’d done. It was to survive, and while you’ve come to terms with how scary you could be in the past you thought it stayed there.

In the past.

Tonight had proven to you that you could always access that piece of you. That terrifying piece that was a killing machine. The emphasis doesn’t lie in efficiency, but in ruthlessness. You had shown no mercy, the switch for empathy and compassion turned off as soon as your hindbrain decided that it was fight or flight. Dormantly thirsty, lurking in the shadows waiting for its time, it chose to fight. But you had gone a step too far—like always— because of your lack of control.

You were messy, enjoying the cutting of thick flesh, the warmth of the blood as it sprayed you. The copper smell, so familiar and embarrassingly comforting, though you didn’t have the mind to think that now, not when you were exposing the pink underbelly of a corpse.

Santi’s been pacing the hallway since you all made it back to the safe house. He’d tried to chat you up on the way home with no success. You wouldn’t meet his eye, and when he drew nearer to catch your gaze it was empty. It chilled his blood. He wasn’t sure of what exactly happened in that room you’d gotten ambushed in but he’d seen the aftermath. Recalling the image of standing over one too many dead bodies, a gleam in your eye had made his stomach curl. He’d smoothed his hand over your knee and left it at that, trying his best to banish all the red and pink and white.

It’s been an hour since you’d stumbled into the bathroom. He can hear the shower still going when he puts his ear to the door and sighs, a mix of frustrated and concerned. He’s not sure what to do– he’s never had to take care of you before. He’s always been grateful for that given all the fondness he has for you bubbling just beneath. Any acknowledgement could jeopardize too much– missions, the dynamic of the team, and most importantly your friendship.

“You alright in there?” He calls softly through the door.

He’s met with silence. He rolls his neck, cursing beneath his breath as his mind goes back and forth, trying to decide what to do.

“Just go in there and check on her,” Frankie says from behind him, causing the other man to flinch. “Didn’t mean to scare you. You alright?”

“I’m fine,” Santi assures Frankie, leaning against the wall to face the man. He nods at the door. “She could be naked.”

Frankie snorts, shrugging. “She’s seen all of us at least half naked and well, Benny—“

Santi quickly cuts him off, trying to keep the sour jealousy out of his voice. He knows that there’s nothing going on between you and Benny, that Benny is as much of a flirt as he is but sillier and less concerned with his image. “But we haven’t seen her. I don’t— I’m a dog but I’m a respectful one.”

“If she’s gonna get help from anybody on this it’d be you. She trusts you man.”

Santi looks at him like he’s grown two heads but feels a little warm, “She trusts all of us, kind of a prerequisite of living and working with a group of men.”

“It's different with you. You should hear the way she talks about you when you’re not around.”

Santi almost lets himself think about it. Almost lets himself dream a little. Almost.

“Or see the way she looks at you when you’re not looking. Like a lost fucking puppy,” Benny pipes in, breezing down through the hallway between the two of them.

“Don’t sound so concerned, Benjamin,” Santi calls after the man, mouth quirking into a grin.

“Don’t look so smug, Santiago,” Frankie teases.

“I’m not smug,” He denies. He decides to go in, okay with being kicked out by you if it means that Frankie will be gone, done poking and prodding at what the man must know is his heart.

“Good luck.”

Santi murmurs a quiet thanks before slowly entering the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He stands, frozen in place for several moments as he digests the sight of you. It's heartbreaking. His chest goes tight, and he curses softly again. What could he do for you? He’d do anything, but he’s just not sure what. He feels helpless seeing you like this. He could burn this entire city, burn anyone who would look at you wrong. Hell, he’d burn the entire world if it meant some warmth would come back into your eyes.

You’re curled up, your arms resting atop your knees, head resting to stare forward. Your curly hair that usually frames your face is completely soaked like the rest of you, flat and sticking to your face in various places. He knows that your eyes are unseeing, that you’re so incredibly removed from yourself because you make no indication that he’s stepped into the room.

“I’m gonna come sit beside you, okay? That’s it. No words,” Despite his words he stays where he is for a handful of seconds, hoping to get some sort of answer from you. You don’t speak a word, don’t utter or sound or so much as look in his direction. But you do shift slowly, making more room for him underneath the water.

“Fuck, it’s freezing,” He grits out, drawing close enough to you that your shoulders rest flush against each other.

He gazes over at you, noticing the way the water glimmers on your brown skin. The way its collected on your dark eyelashes. If these were different circumstances maybe for just a handful of seconds he’d let himself get lost in your beauty. But then you acknowledge him– sort of. You hum softly and the leaning of your head on his shoulder. It's a good sign and he relaxes beside you.

“Do you want me to shut it off?” He asks gently, reaching out to take your hands into his. Your fingers are cold as ice, and he rubs at them in a futile attempt to generate some heat.

“No, please. No,” You beg hoarsely, suddenly springing to life. You grip at his hands desperately, eyes wide with panic as you finally meet his gaze.

“Alright, hush, cariño, I’ve got you. C’mere, baby,” He shushes you, pulling you into his arms and flush against him.

At little more present in the moment, you feel the chill registering. You curl up, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. There’s still some warmth in his skin and you press into it, letting the sound of his steady breath lull you back into a dissociative state.

Santi holds you for an undetermined amount of time. He runs his hands up your back, over the crown of your hair, feeling the difference of how your curls feel when wet. His hand drifts to your chin, and he leans away, tipping your head up.

“Honey, you’ve gotta talk to me,” He whispers.

Your dark eyes have a little more life to them, but that’s only amplified the sadness they hold. “Santi, I can’t. I can’t. Don’t make me, please.”

“I have to, you can’t stay like this. We’ve got to get it out in the open.”

“Like you do?” You challenge– your voice distinctly unkind, harder than he’s ever heard it before. His brow furrows and guilt blossoms inside of you. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have. This just fucking sucks, Santiago. Its all wrong again.”

“Tell me what’s wrong and we’ll fix it.”

“There’s no way we can fix it. I’m just broken. I’ll always be haunted by her. She’ll always be here, waiting for an opportunity for that.”

“You preach that shit to me and the guys. Day in and day out. Every mission, and you don’t believe it?”

“I do— I did. I believe it for you. For them. You’re good people, Santi. Good men, all of you. You take care of me.”

“You take care of us, honey. Fish hangs on your every word. Will too. Benny is well— Benjamin.”

“And you?”

He shrugs, “You know I gave into this a long time ago. Before we even met. No other way for me to be.”

“Do you believe me?”

“I try to. I want to. There are parts of me too that I don’t like. I want them gone. I rip them up and bury them but they always come back to haunt me. I don’t think that means I’m not trying to be better, but it means I’ll never be the man I want to be.”

You frown at him, concerned, “Santi—“

“It’s okay. I accepted that after the first tour. Sometimes you gotta let the horse be dead.”

“Do you think my horse is dead?”

There’s no room for his ego, no room for hiding when he hears the blatant fear in your question.

He rests his head back against the wall, murmuring, “I think you’re the sweetest thing this earth has to offer.”

“You think so?”

“Bouncing around with your curls, and your sweet little smile. Kicking Benny’s ass with grace while you’ve got a cake in the oven. You should see yourself with Frankie’s little girl.”

“Seems like you watch me a lot,” You suggest softly.

“I watch you all the time,” He admits, but there’s no shame in his voice. In fact you can see resolve in his eyes, and possessiveness. A chill runs down your spine and it’s not from the water. Santi mistakes it for that anyway. “Let me turn this off for us?”

He’s still asking. Still checking in with you though there’s much more light in your eyes.

“Yeah, okay.”

Santi leans up and turns off the shower, letting out a sigh of relief. He runs his hands over your wet curls, pushing them away from your forehead. His thumbs swipe your cold cheeks, brushing away some of the water droplets.

Without that steady sound of the shower, sheets cascading down on you, you both are feeling a little more exposed.

“I came in here to make sure you were alright, not spill my fucking guts. I just had to take care of you,” He says, his voice uncharacteristically hesitant.

“You can always take it back,” You say teasingly, though most of you expect him to bite at your offer.

He’s said much more in these last few minutes than he ever has to you— Santi’s a sweet guy under all his charm, but he never lets you see below the surface. Not until now, when letting you in seemed like the only way to get you out.

It takes more effort than he expects to pull himself away from you. He leans back against the shower wall, nimble fingers lacing together in his lap. “And lose you?”

“You could never lose me, Santi,” You murmur, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

Your eyes roam him, a little in disbelief at what’s happening right now. But yes, it is Santiago Garcia sitting next to you. With his dark brown eyes, his sharp jaw dappled with stubble, his salt and pepper hair looking much darker and curlier than usual due to the water.

“Yeah?” Santi asks, eyes glued to where yours sits atop his. He traces slowly over the sight of you two linked together, admiring how soft and rich your skin looks even after sitting in a shower for so long.

He’s a goner isn’t he?

“Yeah.”

There are butterflies in his stomach. Butterflies, sweat slicking his palms despite the fact that he’s soaked through his clothes and down to the bone. He realizes in this moment that he’s not just a goner. No— he loves you. He knew that he was harboring some kind of feelings for you, but when your eyes meet his— earnest and tender— he can only think one thing: I love you.

His eyes hungrily drop to your full mouth, and another shiver runs down your spine. “Let me kiss you.”

You nod, squeezing his hand that’s still in yours.

“I need to hear you say it. You have to say it for me, so I can believe it.”

“I want you to kiss me, Santiago. Please.”

He’s on you then. All over you. His hands move quickly, guiding you back into his lap before one loops around your torso and holds you close. The other cups your jaw, angling it back so that he can press his mouth to yours. You’re breathless before the space between you is closed, chest heaving at how sure and firm his hands are. He kisses you. Kisses and kisses you, like his life depends on it. Like you’re lost and the only thing that will guide you home is his insistent tongue.

Your hands slip and slide against the fabric of his wet shirt before you give up, raising them to tentatively cup his face so that you can have leverage.

“That’s it honey, kiss me back. Take what you want to. Whatever you need,” He encourages between kisses.

Take you do. You squirm in his lap until he lets you shift and straddle him. It had started with him leading you, consuming you but now it’s your turn to surround him. Santi gives in, sighing into your mouth as your tongue goes on the hunt for his. You kiss him. Kiss him and kiss him until your mouth aches. When you pull away his is flushed pink, newly wet. You run your thumb over his lips before wiping your own mouth.

He looks up at you like hang the moon. His eyes are soft and hazy, pink mouth pulling up into a smirk. There’s the Santi you know. The Santi you love. But even now, he’s softer and sweeter, gathering you close again.

“What do you need now, sweetheart? What can I do to make it better?”

“You.”

“I’m yours.”

santi taglist: @jitterbugs927, @theconsultingdoctor10, @tanzthompson, @clairevoyanceee, @moonmalice, @tiffanypooh, @dearvirtualdiary-blog1, @marc-spectorr, @xbellaxcarolinax, @toracainz, @mccn-bcys, @missdictatorme, @whatthefishh

[outsidersheadcanons]

Hiya! Could i get job head canons for the gang? (Not the jobs they already have, jobs you could see them having!) That's all, thanks! (BTW my home page is 99% your posts!!! 🥰)

Ofc!! (Sorry for yapping sm 😭 I'll stop using the tags as much bc I post A LOT more frequently than I thought I would oops)

But here u go!!

English teacher Ponyboy. He would be absolutely OBSESSED with the books he assigns, and he'd love teaching poetry (and reading everyone's essays!!) also ik his lessons would be fun asf

Soda isn't academic, but I feel like he'd love being an equine vet! That way he could be around horses all day (and save them too!) realistically tho I think after he worked at the DX he got a job at the old farm he used to work at training horses instead (bc I want him to be happy <3)

(Modern) I can see Dally working retail or in fast food tbh (only places he can work based off his track record tbh). "Welcome to Taco Bell man 😡"

I can see Steve in the military. Maybe he joined the air force or smth to avoid the draft?? But imagine him. Working on planes in a giant hangar or working in air traffic control

I think Darry would be a good social worker or smth in youth services. Someone on here had a hc that he started fostering kids and that's so. in character. Idk if he'd ever have his own family but he really loves helping others.

Johnny would also go into social work to help kids who grew up the way he did (If he survived ☹️).

Two-bit would sell cars when he got older and manage a dealership (and he'd be such a good salesman). Or maybe he could cut hair. Barber Two-bit would be interesting (and he's a good conversationalist so no one would EVER be bored while he did their hair).

[heroes-of-lemuria]

No one asked but teehee. I’m in a mood so I’ll Yap about my personal specific species/breed hcs for the heroes. I like to try and make my anthros more. Accurate to animals I suppose? It’s just how I like to draw, so I like to model them more closely after very specific animals than the game does. A whole lot of yap up ahead.

ill put this under a cut for courtsey. 2 images to keep them squished tiny

Stallion I base off of Irish Cobb horses. I’ve already said this but he’s a draft breed because of the feathering, and I really like the idea of a UK breed for him for obvious reasons. They also will come in the coloring and are notably very hairy horse breeds, if you ever see the horses with the mustaches they’re probably an Irish Cobb! So that’s a fun addition

Solomon I go whooping crane. The colors are not exact but there really are no pure white cranes with yellow feet and beaks. There’s egrets but I’m stubborn on the crane thing so they’re the closest I can find. Yeah

I’ve mentioned the bantam but he’s a chicken mutt to me. But most basis on Japanese bantams, tan chau bantams, and bhrama chickens.

Mandar also vexed me I ended up a blend of salamander species. I lean towards southern two lines salamanders, they are orange and the males grow little mustaches during breeding season, a detail I think is fun with how many manders in krok have facial hair. I wish I could throw in a touch of North African fire salamander for some kind of regional note but they really are not visually similar at all.

Duck I go with mallard ducks. I just like them a lot. And I think her having still having still been a bronzeish brown color is cute. There’s other chickens with closer bill colors but shh. Also the females have these orange bills with darker patches on them, this is where me drawing Duck with beak freckles comes from. Plus I think it’s cute haha

Buck! Key deer. A subspecies of white tail deer found in the Florida keys that’s notably very small. I think a type of deer that were so separated from other populations due to living in Florida wetlands works really well for Sky City haha. Plus if you line all the heroes up house guest style and don’t count Mandar bc he does stand up straight sometimes he is the shortest of the heroes, which I like. (Very close to Shadoe but I do think she’s slightly taller, even counting for her heels ) so them being really small is an added bonus

Shadoe. I’m sorry to be boring she’s just a white tailed deer to me. Do I have to add a picture of one here? If anything her fur color is a bit darker than the average white tail. While I’m yapping about tiny design decisions I do the nicked ear I draw her with comes from Adam’s concept art! It never made it in the game but I love that detail so much I put it in for myself haha

And Dog. He’s a bulldog obviously but because he’s not super fucked up looking like some of the Marleybonian ones and he’s from Heap I went with the American Bulldog over the English one. Also they’re notably bigger, and going into heights again Dog is by far the tallest hero. Have y’all noticed he’s like crazy tall?

[covexation]

⋆｡ﾟ☾｡⋆｡ ﾟ☁︎ ﾟ｡⋆ cassidy nsfw hcs ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

warning: dacryphilia, dom character, sub male reader, pervert cass, blowjobs, riding, cass grabbing ass!!!, creampie, anal, male reader, exhibitionism, mention of tracer, doggy style

- when you walk in he thinks you’re the most attractive thing ever

- he already wants to feel your insides ૮꒰˶> ༝ <˶ ꒱ა

- do you have the softest hole ever? the loudest moan? the prettiest whimpers? he wants to know !!

- he wants to feel how warm your throat is most of all

- he thinks about him balls deep in your mouth, his hand guiding you behind your head

- he would love to cum on your beautiful face

- you sobbing and drooling because you can’t take his big cock? he’s falling more in love ૮꒰ྀི⊃´ ꒳ `⊂ྀི꒱ა

- ooh another thing!!

- him laying back, smoking a cigar, while you ride his cock <3

- his cock is 7 inches ( minimum ) and slightly unshaven but well kept !!

- loves when you ride him (save a horse ride a cowboy ;3)

- cass is an ass man and makes that known!!

- he grabs your ass everywhere and anywhere

- he loves jacking you off under a table in public as you struggle to hold back your moans <3

- when he’s fucking you from behind, he loves to grab your throat; forcing you to arch your back

- when he cums inside, he lets go of your throat and lets you relax

- he traces your spine as his seed spills out your hole, he chuckles at the sight

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

“cassidy?” tracer snaped the man out of his imagination. he noticed you had already left the building. he laughed to himself, he knew he’d be seeing you real soon ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ

had to write this twice because tumblr deleted my first draft ;c but it’s ok bc i love cassidy!!!!

pls send reqs i need more things to write!! ૮꒰ ྀི◜๑◝ ꒱ა

( reblogs and notes are very much appreciated !! )

[2demondogs]

Lie, Beg and Die | Bessie/Hosea/Dutch

Tags: Polyamory but like it's even more complicated, past relationships, character study Words: 1.3k A/N: Start of a fic that I never finished so take it as a study bc the Ao3 draft was expiring.

Dutch thinks that men don't change.

As if to disprove himself, he had said it with tears in his eyes. Hosea thinks often of how honest his face finally looked despite his same-old pleading, as if he had never shown a real emotion in all those years riding together — at least not real anguish.

Dutch van der Linde cried because he felt abandoned. It was Annabelle who first taught him what grief was; his sorrow then had eaten the rotting flesh of his husk, and he cried plenty in their doubled privacy. She hadn't chosen to leave him but he thinks that if she hadn't been so cursedly in love, the concept of consequences to Dutch's actions might never have clicked in the man's head.

And if the regret on his face weren't the mark of a changed man, Hosea isn't sure what is.

His visits to Bessie and himself began a month after their last conversation. He liked to hear how the boys were doing, and although Dutch often tried to whisk him away, he liked to hear how he was doing, too. He never intended to leave Dutch, doesn't think such a thing could ever sit right in his heart — only the life they led.

Dutch van der Linde is inescapable through anything but death.

It felt almost like normalcy. If it weren't for the not infrequent case of there being blood on Dutch's hands, which Bessie chides him for as if he is just a boy who played outside too long; or the way he smells, like stolen high-class cologne slapped over a month's worth of horses and dirt and fresh-air that turns not-so-fresh after a while; it might almost seem as though Dutch is a close friend visiting from a town over, between the busy life his own family and work has made for him.

Bessie likes to dress as though this is true, for various reasons, but she makes no effort to pretend that Dutch is not what he is: a killer and a thief, just the same as the two of them were.

There's no use running from the truth, she'd say, if Hosea ever asked why. He doesn't ask because he knows this already.

While he clasps a delicate chain he stole — but told her he bought, because in some ways men don't change and their women would prefer to believe they do — she sometimes frowns and asks Hosea if maybe Dutch was right.

Have we changed, or are we lying?

And Hosea won't know what to say. He won't even know if she particularly needs comforted about it, the way guilty men desire; Bessie seems to have accepted that what is... simply is. There's something intellectual to it that implies more forethought than mere arrogance, but what guilt she owns is impossible for him to see.

She's a like lot Dutch, all those years ago. It is what it is, Hosea.

How many times has he heard them say that? More than once, he heard the words simultaneously as they both turned to him.

He sometimes wants to tell them that their sorry trio is proof men can change. Whatever inside of himself that perverted Dutch hasn't touched Bessie, and he hopes that it never will. She is no sacrifical lamb, no angel fallen into the devil's arms; but she is pure in a way that feels too familiar, too heavy in his hands.

Faustian, really, and what an obnoxiously self-righteous and dramatic way for him to self-loathe. Hosea would, most days, rather be arrogant and not think on his worthiness at all then be so preoccupied with it. On rarer days, he finds himself entertaining the way Bessie sees him.

Perhaps he's not only changed but done it for the better, and this is a good man who sits outside and watches the sun rise from their little cabin outside of Cumberland Forest. He makes coffee and breakfast for his darling wife, because he loves her so much and so sweetly. The most depraved of their sins is that his best friend takes them both for a spin once in a while, which is rather gentle all things considered.

Men can steal, kill, rape — what is love to a God that sees all?

Bessie wouldn't like to know that he thinks of robbing the men who ride past, or that every now and then he itches for something much more important-feeling than this quaint life, tucked away from civilization. Bessie doesn't need to know it, anyways, because he thinks all men dream of doing good. His methods were just never orthodox, and he has yet to decide if the ends justify the means. There's plenty to think about, and much more time to do it out here.

Then again, Bessie knows his crimes. She had been humored to learn his real name and recognize it from a slip-up, long ago, where it had been posted in a newspaper.

That had felt like divine intention.

He's chopping wood for the fireplace when Dutch rides in.

Each time, he finds himself more unsure of how on earth Bessie likes either of them. By now, months have smoothed over their mutually wounded prides and Dutch is free enough to place a kiss on Hosea's mouth. It's almost European in nature — but he still feels scandalized, as if he's forgotten the nature of their relationship.

Dutch had explained it to his own gals as a separation between sexes: she was his woman and, well, Hosea was his man. There was little to fear as long they stayed in their own lanes, trust me, darling, you're only sharing first place.

With Susan, the three of them danced because Hosea was young and so was she, and they both liked getting on Dutch's last nerves. She didn't mind their past nor present, but she was not as resilient to the thought of their future. They broke up, used to tagteam antagonizing Dutch over breakfast and dinner.

Hosea can't blame her. He was not resilient to the thought of Dutch and Annabelle's future, either. Still, he wasn't the one who could let go — his last chance for that was holstered on a bleak evening outside Chicago.

At first, it seemed Dutch wouldn't be resilient to Hosea and Bessie's future. Marriage, what a wonderful thing that they could never have. Dutch studied some verses and eloped them anyways, a typical extravagant yet simple way for him to insist that he was not, in fact, bothered in the slightest.

He had been bothered and at some point, Bessie was, too. Hosea supposes that he and Dutch have grown up together and therefore alike — and while the love Bessie and Dutch entertain for each other is certainly not the same as either for Hosea, it exists in its own right.

And she smiles from where she leans on the porch banister, as if she simply adores to see the two of them in love. Happy, or some modicum of it, Dutch's hand on his waist and on his lips, some snarky comment on how he can feel the happiness on Hosea's softened hips. He has been eating better, he supposes, because he's hunting for two instead of six.

Dutch is less polite with Bessie. Square on the carefully painted mouth, fingers faint but very present on her neck. His tanned hand seems obscenely large on her throat. Hosea supposes he has never seen his own on it, and— Jesus, so begins their dancing for the evening, at least his part.

They part, and Hosea thinks he knows what Bessie sees when she smiles at them. Dutch's eyes are soft and so are hers, and Hosea is so glad they know what it's like to be under each other's warmth. It has always pleased him, to say the least.

[cannibalhellhound]

*sigh*

I've gone down the centaur rabbit hole

But I regret nothing because LOOK AT HIM!!! Yes he is naked shhhhh

I based him on a Belgian Draft and gave him white patches and a sock because I liked the contrast with his birthmark, AND elongated the legs just a smidge because Buck is 70% leg

I also changed the tattoo ears to horse ears and made his Lichtenberg figures to reach the equine half because yes :)

Fyi I'm doing all this on paper and then passing it to digital

Bonus sketch of a BuddieTommy idea with deertaur Buck, werewolf Eddie and minotaur Tommy, by @travellingdragon which I'll probably visit later bc I love it

All of this was encouraged by @buffaluff btw

[aqua-the-smiter]

I DID IT. I WROTE SOMETHING FOR MERMARY Selkie!Ferrus Manus x Argena Seeva (oc) Argena meets a rather peculiar stranger along the seashore. Ferrus is a selkie bc Scottish Iron Hands make brain go brrr. SFW Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SR7QTKe1D7Q Writer's note, Ferrus's seal form is a leopard seal :3 Divider by @squishyowl

It was the most beautiful singing Argena had ever heard.

The voice was male, and it was unusual to think of a man’s singing as beautiful, but there was no other way she could describe it. It was deep-bass deep-and as clear as sunlit seawater. It was strong and steady, the singer’s voice never wavering or breaking or missing a note.

Once a fair and handsome seal-lord lay his foot upon the sand For to woo the fisher's daughter and to claim her marriage hand. "I have come in from the ocean, I have come in from the sea, And I'll not go to the waves, love, lest ye come along with me."

It split the quiet, late summer air. Her singer wasn’t loud, per say, but it carried easily over the sound of the lapping waves and up the short cliff to where she had been perched on her mare. Quickly, she slid off the bay’s back and tied her reins around a post she had driven into the ground some years before for the purpose. She pushed her way through the long grass and heather to peer over the cliffside, hunkering down to let the long stalks curtain her.

There, among the rocks, far away from the other seals that populated the shore sat a man. He was huge. Even from this distance she could tell he would easily tower over her. His skin was pale and scarred, glistening from the seaspray. His body was all coarse black hair and hard, thick muscle from his broad shoulders to his strong legs. Despite his obvious strength and bulk the way he sat was almost elegant, draped over the stone he was sitting on with the same effortless lounge a seal would. His face looked like it had been chiseled from white mountain rock, as scarred as the rest of him was. His eyes were a bright, oddly metallic silver and his short hair black as shale.

There were two things that stuck out about his appearance, aside from his sheer size and obvious power he exuded. His arms were gloved from the very tips of his fingers to around mid-upper arm in interweaving knotwork tattoos. Clearly done with loving detail, and absurdly intricate. Second, an enormous sealskin cloak rested over his shoulders. It didn’t look like any sealskin she’d ever seen, both big enough to wrap up a draft horse and colored differently. Black or dark gray on the back before shading to a lighter gray on the sides, and dappled with dark spots. The flippers hung down over his chest.

It has nearly as much fur as he does. She thought with a small smile.

She sat for a while, head in her hands, listening to him. No human should have been able to sing so enchantingly. Especially not a man who looked so tough and strong. And rather handsome, now that she studied him for a while. She hoped she was able to keep the ditzy look of pleasure off her face. Such a sweet voice for such a strong man.

"Lord, long have I loved you as a selkie on the foam. "I would gladly go and wed ye and be Lady of your home But I cannot go into the ocean, I cannot go into the sea. I would drown beneath your waves, love, if I went along with ye." "Lady, long have I loved you: I would have you for my wife. I shall stay upon your shoreland though it robs me of my life. I will stay one night beside you, never go back to the sea, I will stay and be thy husband though it be the death of me."

Wait…

Her head snapped up suddenly as a thought struck her.

The sealskin…his voice. 

No…it couldn’t be, could it? Surely not.

Argena remembered back to when she had been a child, and her father would tell her and her older brother stories before bed. About faeries and elves, kelpies and the nuckelavee. And…selkies. At the end he’d always told them that there had been fantastical creatures once, a very long time ago, but they had shrunk away from the world as men grew more numerous. It was something she kept in mind even now in her adult life. For example, growing increasingly wary of the odd white horse that lived by a deep pond and always seemed to stare at her whenever she walked by. 

Like it knew she wouldn’t fall for that.

“I didn’t think there were any of you left.” She whispered softly.

It took her a moment to realize he stopped. What’s more, he was staring right at her. His piercing silver eyes met her gold ones, and she felt her heart skip. 

“You may as well come down here, if you’re going to sneak around.” He said, sounding none too pleased about it.

Her mouth went dry as she extracted herself and slowly picked her way down the cliff. Her bare feet sinking into the sand and her skirts billowing in the sea breeze. She stopped a few paces away from him, and he sat up, attentive.

“Do you make a habit of spying on others?”

“Do you make a habit of sitting naked in the middle of nowhere?” She asked back, a little annoyed.

His jaw worked for a few moments before he conceded. “Aye, fair enough..

“I come down to this stretch of beach often.” She explained quickly, not wanting things to be even more awkward. “I heard you singing and stopped to listen. You have the most beautiful voice I’ve ever heard.” She told him earnestly. 

He inhaled sharply, but his stance relaxed. “It’s been a long time since I heard something like that from a mortal.”

“So you’re not human?”

“No. Of course not.” “Ha! I knew it!” Argena crowed triumphantly. “You are a selkie, aren’t you?.”

Then she paused, and held out a hand. Realizing she may have sounded a little rude.

“It’s an honor to meet you. Don’t misunderstand me. I just…I thought you were all gone. I never would have dreamed in a hundred years that I would meet a real one.”

After a moment he accepted the offered handshake. His was huge and engulfed hers. It was warm and slightly damp. The tattoos were even more intricate up close, and covered his palms as well.

I thought you were all gone.

Her words stuck with the selkie for a moment. He had been under the impression that humans largely didn’t believe in anything magical anymore. As new beliefs swept over the land and as they continued to advance. They were relegated to superstition and fairy tales. Some pockets still believed, of course. Some always would. But most didn’t, and even now he still wasn’t sure of how he felt about it. For all his strength and power, he wasn’t fond of being forgotten. It might be better that way.

But he had to admit it was nice to be recognized. 

“Do you have a name?” She remembered something vaguely, about fae names being important.

He didn’t seem to hold the same truth. “Ferrus. And you?” “Argena. Er, you can just call me Gena, please.”

She sat on the rock next to him as he gazed out to sea, deep in thought. It was a little awkward, and she wondered if she’d offended him somehow.

Good job, Gena. You meet a real magical creature and you piss him off within the first five minutes.

The sun was starting to go down, turning the sand golden and making the water shimmer and flash. The light breeze carried the scent of heather and thistle flowers, mingling with that of the salty ocean air, and the sound of the waves and cries of the gulls overhead were making her drowsy. Finally, he spoke.

“We’re still around. We were never gone. It’s just wiser to keep to yourself these days.”

“Hm?” She looked up at him. He sounded oddly melancholy. “So there’s still selkies around?”

“Not just us. There’s still plenty of…I suppose you would call us mythical beasts now. Dragons and faeries and unicorns and kelpies. Albeit many in lesser numbers. But as I said. It’s just wiser to retreat from the world. There will always be places wild and untouched.”

Gena frowned. “Not all humans would mean to harm you.”

Ferrus nodded in agreement. “I believe you. You are right in front of me after all. We have been sitting here for a good while and yet you haven’t asked to touch my sealskin, or reached out for it.”

“I figured that would have been rude even if you weren’t a selkie, seeing as how we’ve just met. And I promise I have no intention of stealing it. If there was even a chance I could overpower you.”

“There is not. But just by that alone I feel that you are at least somewhat trustworthy.”

She flushed, a bit flattered. “Honestly? I’m just in awe to meet you in the first place. I was raised on all the stories and old tales. I would never dream of taking your sealskin. Has…has anyone tried to, in the past?”

His expression darkened. “Once. My brother stole it from me, and hid it so well I couldn’t find it. I don’t know how, some magic or other. I went to all my other brothers and asked them for help, but none of them would. So I beat the truth of that wretched little bastard. Since then, I haven’t spoken to any of them. So I am amused, if nothing else, that a little mortal woman such as yourself has more respect for me and mine than my own family.”

“I, well…you’re welcome." She couldn't imagine having a family that awful. Hers wasn't perfect. They drove her nuts on occasion, what with her brother treating her like a child at times, her younger sister conspiring to make her chores infinitely longer than needed, and her mother dismissing her as a dreamer with her head in the clouds, constantly pestering her to accept a marriage proposal already. But it wasn't all bad in the slightest, and she loved her family. 

"I don't think mine are anywhere near that bad, but they drive me up a wall too sometimes. I have a brother and a sister. How many siblings do you have?"

"18 brothers."

"18?!"

"One of my brothers has a twin. It would've been 17 otherwise."

"You have 18 brothers and nobody helped you?!"

“Twisted, isn’t it?” He gave her a rueful smile. “You’ve been better to me than all of them. The real foot in the nads is that the one who stole my sealskin was my best friend. There used to be times I’d forget we weren’t twins.”

“I assume you never want to speak to him again.”

“I do not.”

They fell silent again, but this time it was a little more congenial. He decided he liked this mortal woman. She was kind, but not flat. There was a spark in her. Very beautiful too, with those bright gold eyes and long wavy black hair. Her skin was fair but not nearly as much as his. And, he noted almost absently, she had a very nice figure.

Ferrus held a section of his sealskin out to her. “You can feel it if you’d like.”

Gena stared at it in surprise before looking back up at him. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. I’m offering it to you.”

“Ah…alright then.”

She had been curious, and so reached out to brush her hand against it. It didn’t feel at all like she was expecting. It was covered in thick, dense fur. The section he’d offered had been sitting in the sea spray, so it was slick, smooth, and almost oily. It felt nice against her hand, and she stroked it a few times like she was petting it.

“Not what you expected?”

“No, but it feels nice. It’s so smooth too. I bet it’s really comfortable to curl up under.”

That got his first real smile out. “It rather is. The waters I tend to frequent are very cold. Even more so than here.”

“Do you not live around here?”

He shook his head. “I haven’t, for a long time. I may come back though. This is my homeland in a way. I prefer it here over anywhere else, but I wished to disappear for a long while.”

“This would be the first place your family looked?”

No reply this time, but he nodded.

“What else do you know about me?”

“About selkies you mean? Well…” She put a finger to her lower lip as she thought for a moment. “I heard one version of the tale that said you couldn’t be on land past midnight or you would die. But I never thought that made any sense. When would you be able to turn into a human when you took the skin off otherwise?”

“Why indeed?” And she felt a little happy flutter as she saw she’d made him smile again. Ferrus was a rather dour selkie. “What else?”

“I knew about your singing. Although that also varies from story to story. And I know a lot of stories about humans stealing sealskins and forcing the selkie to marry them. I never liked those. And I know that selkies are said to be indistinguishable from real humans underneath, except for all being very good looking.”

“My brothers were all very aware of that little tidbit. They seemed to think I didn’t fit the bill.”

“Well they’re not the ones who you’d want to be attracted to you anyway. They’re your family. For what it’s worth, I think you’re a very handsome man. Er, selkie.”

Ferrus laughed. It sounded vaguely like a seal’s bark, but warm. “You don’t mince words, do you? You’re a very honest woman.”

“Just telling it as I see it. Besides, your family sounds terrible.”

She glanced up at the sky again, before suddenly standing upright. 

“Damn it all! It’s getting late. I should get going so I’m not going home in the dark. Thank you for talking, Ferrus. I’ll never forget it.” Gena gave him a small curtsy.

“...I will be here tomorrow, if you’d like to continue this. Gena.” He offered slowly. It had been a very long time since he’d spoken to anyone. He hadn’t realized how much he had missed it. The sound of another voice. Hers was sweet and silvery and calm.

“Wait, really? Sure. I would love to talk with you again. Imagine me befriending a real selkie.” And she laughed with the sheer joyful absurdity of it. 

“Befriend?”

“Why not? I wouldn’t mind being your friend.” She smiled at him, and began making her way up the cliff. “I’ll see you tomorrow then, Ferrus.”

“Aye. You as well. Stay safe, Gena.” He called after her. Then she was gone, disappearing over the ledge with a final wave of goodbye.

He lingered on the rock long after the sun had begun to dip below the horizon, pondering what had just happened. It had been…centuries since he’d last actually talked to someone. The last time had been when he’d gotten his sealskin back. He gripped it tighter, pulling the precious thing more around his shoulders. Time had passed by without his notice. And it seemed he’d grown much lonelier than he wanted to admit to himself. His decision had been spur of the moment, but it might be nice to have a companion again.

Pulling his sealskin over himself fully, he finally slid into the water and disappeared into the deep. But he’d be back for sure. Maybe he’d sing the rest of that song for Gena, next time he saw her.