#LET HIM SURVIVE ROUND 1 AT LEAST

[darealsaltysam]

PLEASE SUPPORT MY CAUSE GUYS!!!!

[kumkaniudaku]

Stay A While

Summary: Terry's back home and trying to make amends with an old friend.

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Black!OC

Word Count: 3,944

Part: 1 of ??

Warnings and Notes: None. This one's a safe for work slow burn. Enjoy.

Drunk minds speak sober thoughts. Or at least Terry hoped that was the case as his thumb hovered over a familiar name in his contact list. A dingey hole in the wall became a haven on the tail end of his journey back to some sense of normalcy. He was down a bike, a truck, and a piece of his heart but continued to press on until fatigue forced him to stop for rest. The owner, a small woman with a big voice noticed his rough appearance as he passed by on foot and invited him inside to duck an incoming storm. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, even when he repeated that he had ground to make up before nightfall.

When she asked if he needed help he politely and foolishly declined all but a glass of brown liquor and access to an outlet. That same whiskey and a sprinkle of Motown-era love songs playing on a rickety jukebox had broken a grown man down enough to reach out to the one person who might still be willing to take him in. Even if only for a night.

Searching for extra courage, Terry took another sip of lukewarm Jack Daniels before tapping his phone screen. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before a short pause signaled the call had connected. 

The silence on the other him was loud, forcing him to speak up first. 

“Hello?”

Fading voices and shuffling in the background were the only indicators of a presence on the other line, making Terry feel embarrassed for starting a call in the first place. 

He cleared his throat before speaking again. “Hey, look… if now’s not a good time I ca -” 

“Terrence? Did you mean to call me?” 

“I, uh…yeah. I did. I’m sorry. I should’ve -” 

“Are you okay? It’s loud wherever you are. You good? You hurt?” 

“I could tell you if you would give me a chance to answer,” he chuckled. His amusement made her kiss her teeth in annoyance. “I’m okay. I’m a little banged up, but I’ve seen worse. I’m somewhere between Charlotte and home. Stopped in this spot for a drink and somewhere to sleep for the night.” 

“And what does that have to do with me?” 

Terry took another swig of whiskey and sighed. “Nothing, really. I was hoping I could see you, though. You know, when I make it back tomorrow.”

“You staying anywhere when you get here?” 

“Not yet, but I’ll find somewhere. I know how to survive.”

“TJ…,” More silence. Thick. Long. Full of tension and years of baggage that they had yet to discuss. The other voice sighed before answering. “Come on by. I’ll have the back room ready for you. You need toiletries?” 

Terry’s face softened into a near smile at the invitation. “Yes ma’am. A meal would be nice, too.” 

“Okay. I’ll have you something if you can get here before dark tomorrow. Please be safe, Terrence. I mean it.” 

Before he could attempt to extend the conversation, the call ended, leaving her contact photo in full view. Terry allowed a slow grin to spread across his face just as a short text with her address came across the screen. 

“Another round, brother?” 

Terry looked up from his phone to find an expectant expression on the bartender’s face. He shook his head and reached for the wallet in his back pocket. “Nah, but thanks, man. Think I’m gonna close my tab, actually. I gotta see about a bus ticket before it’s too late.” 

“If you heading to her,” the man started, pointing toward Terry’s phone. “you need a cut, man. A lineup. Something. You look like what you been through. If you got $20, I can get you right.” A slight frown and knitted eyebrows in response made the bartender shoot his hands up in surrender. “I don’t want no problems, big dog. I just know what it’s like to see your lady after a hard time. Let me help you.” 

A quick look into the black mirror of his cell phone screen forced Terry to reckon with his appearance. He couldn’t remember his last haircut and his mustache was starting to dwarf his upper lip. He sighed and reached into his back pocket. 

“Extra $10 and you can get the face too?” 

“Extra $20 and I’ll get you where you going myself.” 

------

City noise had long been replaced by suburban quiet by the time Terry’s destination came into view. His friend back at the bar was true to his word and arranged transport that turned a 6-hour journey into 2 hours of UGK on the speakers, a little privacy, and AC on the hottest summer day so far.  

After exchanging pleasantries and cash, Terry stepped out of the cramped Honda onto the smooth driveway pavement. Every house, street sign, and front yard looked exactly as he remembered them, bringing mixed emotions forward.

The short journey to her front step felt arduous for his tired legs, but he persisted until he was mere inches from the front door. He lifted his arms and prepared to knock but stopped short when it swung open unexpectedly. 

“Knocking when I can hear those heavy feet from a mile away is courteous but unnecessary.” 

He chuckled and rubbed a hand down the back of his head. “Good to see you too, Treece.” 

Patrice greeted him with a half smile as she studied his appearance from toe to head. A few years and a little extra weight had done wonders. She settled on his eyes and softened her gaze. “You look good, TJ. Come in here and cool off.”

Stepping inside her home felt like walking into a time capsule. He’d spent so many after-school days and summer nights here that it felt like his childhood home not too far up the road. Photos from yesteryear lined the walls on the way to the living room where nothing had changed except new furniture and a bigger television on the TV stand. The heat from the oven mixing with a slight chill from the air conditioning unit kept the room comfortable enough to nap if he could settle for more than a few minutes. 

Terry’s eyes drifted from his surroundings to Patrice as she led the way. Long braids covered the back of a high school t-shirt and jean shorts. Her brown skin had become golden under the North Carolina sun, making her glow a little in the morning light. Grown woman weight had settled onto her once thin frame, transforming her into a more of a mini version of her mother than before. All the changes he’d imagined when he had a free second were ions better in person.

Patrice gestured toward the leather recliner in the corner without speaking, inviting him to take a seat and settle in on her way to the stove.

They existed without words for a few minutes while she took fresh biscuits out of the oven and arranged them next to sausage patties and an omelet on one of her good porcelain plates. Terry trained his attention on his shoes, trying and failing to find a way to break the ice. He wanted to apologize. Confess his wrongs and desires in one grand speech designed to erase nearly ten years of absence. But the words wouldn’t form in his throat and the moment came and went. 

Balancing a dinner tray in one hand and orange juice in the other, Patrice carefully made her way to his spot in the living room. Seeing her kind eyes calmed his nerves and set his chest ablaze.

“No more pork for you, right? This is chicken sausage from my Nana and them in the country.” She asked as she sat the tray on his lap. 

He nodded in appreciation. “Yeah. You remembered?” 

“You ain’t been gone that long, TJ. I still know who you are and what you like. That orange juice don’t have pulp in it either.” 

“Thank you,” he said sheepishly before hanging his head to pray. 

“Any time.” 

A re-run of A Different World became the only sound in the room outside of an occasional content sigh from Terry as he tore through his breakfast. Patrice watched in amusement until her broad smile caught his attention. He slowed in embarrassment and returned the stare long enough to induce loud laughter from both of them. 

“I look crazy, huh?” 

“No,” she assured with a sweet smile. “You just look like you're happy to be back home, is all. Fayetteville missed you.” 

“All of Fayetteville or someone specific?” 

“Don’t start, TJ.” 

“I’m only asking a question.” He answered without making eye contact. “You know you’re the only one who still calls me that?” 

“What? TJ? That’s your name.” 

“Yeah, but…you know. It’s not 2010 anymore.” 

Patrice shrugged and settled deeper into the couch. “Considering that’s about the last time I saw you in the flesh, I guess it stuck for me. But, I can call you Terrence if you like.” 

“Nah, TJ’s good. I like it. From you…specifically.” 

The pair exchanged equally bashful looks, both too shy to say anything that would incriminate themselves. Instead, they watched the television in silence and stole looks until a commercial break took away their distraction. 

Without speaking, Terry began to gather dishes and stand, prompting Patrice to rush over before he could move too far. 

“Treece, I can do it.” 

“I know,” she answered in a sing-song voice while sliding the tray from his grasp. “But I haven’t done this for you in a while. Let me love on you a little bit.”

His eyes tracked her every move until she was behind him at the kitchen sink. Boyish nervousness made him twiddle his thumbs until words came rushing out like water from a burst pipe as he sat back down.

“So, how you doing? How you been?” 

“I’ve been okay. Mostly work and no play, you know. Thankful to be out of that classroom for a few weeks and get some peace.” 

“Yeah? Kids driving you crazy?” 

“Baby, the kids, their parents, and my parents are driving me to drink,” she laughed. “I can’t catch a break.” 

“What about your man? He driving you crazy?” 

Patrice scoffed and shook her head. Her mama and his mama talked too much. Terry chewed his bottom lip, hoping he didn’t offend. 

“We…aren’t together anymore. Hard to build a family together when he’s off building one across town.” 

Terry craned his neck around the armchair to make sympathetic eye contact. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that part. I wouldn’t have said anything.” 

“It’s alright. I gave it to God a long time ago. Maybe I’m not meant to be anybody’s wife yet.”

“Maybe you weren’t meant to be his wife.” 

“Well, it’s not like any suitors are knocking down my door for my hand in marriage.” 

“Probably because you keep swinging it open before anybody gets a chance.” 

Patrice rolled her eyes and flashed her middle finger in Terry’s direction. “Ha-ha. I see you didn’t lose your jokes at Lejeune. Only your ability to keep in touch.” 

Her retort left a shallow cut in Terry’s ego, making him turn his attention back to the television. He knew he’d broken a decades-old promise and that atoning for his sins would take time. But he also knew that, at any moment, Patrice could send him back into the world with nothing more than a full belly and a swift kick in the ass. He had to tread lightly. 

Taking the lull in conversation as his opportunity to lick his wounds in private, Terry stood and gathered his belongings in both hands. Patrice watched him from her spot with an apologetic expression. 

“You don’t have to leave. Got a couple errands to run so it’ll be quiet in here. Take the whole couch if you want.” 

“That’s alright, but thank you. Figure I can make myself useful and cut the yard. Maybe unpack some of this stuff if that’s alright with you. You got a mower?” 

“Yeah, it’s back there,” she answered, gesturing toward the backyard with her head. “Will you be here when I get back?” 

Sensing the hidden motivation behind her question, Terry dropped his bag to the ground and made his way into the kitchen. Cautiously, he leaned down to press a short kiss to Patrice’s forehead before using his index finger to tilt her head upward and meet his eyeline. “Yes. I promise. You don’t need to worry about me.” 

Her eyes fluttered closed for a half second while she nodded her understanding. A wave of relief made the hair on her arms stand at attention but she quickly bit back any urge to engage further. 

“You looked tired when you got in,” Patrice started, turning her back to Terry to conceal her flustered face. “I cleared Junior’s old bed back there. It’s a little small but sturdy. The sheets are fresh. Let me know if you need more blankets. I like it cold at night.” 

“I’ll survive, girl. I’ve slept in worse places than a full-sized bed. Thank you.” 

A split second of hesitation kept their eyes glued to one another until Terry ended the stalemate by backing out of the room and disappearing down the hallway. 

Patrice took his absence as an opportunity to compose herself. Busy hands and racing thoughts fueled a cleaning marathon until tasks that had long fallen to the bottom of her to-do list were crossed off. 

For hours they co-existed without many words exchanged. Occasionally, Patrice would steal glances at Terry while he meticulously tended to the lawn and bushes. When he could, Terry made a point to brush up against her when he walked past and agree with each of her many suggestions. Being in her space was enough for him and he dared not upset the natural harmony. 

By the time dinner rolled around, they had found a groove. A quiet dinner led to an even quieter cleanup shift and quick good nights exchanged after watching Jeopardy together. 

Terry left Patrice to her own devices while he fought to acclimate to such cushy surroundings. Try as he might, he couldn’t get used to the soft mattress below him or the near-frigid temperature in the house. Tossing and turning left him unsatisfied. The walls felt like they were converging. Flashbacks were turning into night sweats. He needed to escape.

Slowly, he slid out of bed and into a pair of slippers Patrice had gifted him earlier in the day. Measured steps help him sneak past her bed bedroom, out of the back door, and down into the backyard without causing a disturbance. 

The early June air was balmy, clinging to the skin beneath his t-shirt. In the distance loud bass from someone’s car speaker vibrated until it was out of earshot. Dogs barked and howled to salute the moon worked in tandem with the faint smell of charcoal cooling from a night of backyard barbecues to remind him that he was far from the trouble of Shelby Springs. 

It’d been a while since he could enjoy the night without being on high alert. The last week was a special kind of hell that he feared he could never shake. The urge to flee was beginning to creep in like the tide, threatening to wash away what little progress he’d made.

After a few deep breaths and mumbled prayer, Terry retreated to a porch swing to rest his weary legs. His shoulders relaxed as soon as his backside met the aged oak and, almost instantly, he felt safe enough to close his eyes. One deep breath turned into another until he was drifting into his first peaceful sleep in weeks. 

Minutes passed like seconds. Thoughts slowed to a halt. His heartbeat regulated. Near bliss was upon him.

Inside, a single lamp flipped on to illuminate Patrice’s path as she searched the house for her guest. His room and bathroom had turned up empty results with almost no sign that he’d been there throughout the day. He wasn’t on the couch or in the kitchen raiding the fridge like she half expected. Worry had all but made her pass out until she heard the slight creak of her swing on the porch, making his head appear and disappear from the window above the sink.

She couldn’t fully open the door before Terry opened one eye and looked in her direction. She froze and he smiled.

“Feet not as heavy as you thought, huh?” 

“Yeah, yeah. If I’d known you trade in a bed for this old thing I wouldn’t have wasted my time on laundry.” 

“Hey, I built this old thing, remember?”

Patrice chuckled at the memory and pointed at the metal chain keeping the swing in place. “Damn near lost a finger behind it, too.”

“Would’ve been worth it knowing you were happy.” Patrice nervously shifted her weight from left to right under Terry’s intense gaze while he took his turn to look her over. Finally noticing her awkwardly standing between the screendoor, he motioned to the spot beside him. “Sit with me for a second.”

Patrice visibly wrestled with her decision but ultimately joined him. They maintained a careful distance, being sure to keep their individual limbs from connecting for fear that the mere sensation would set them ablaze. They played a childish game of cat and mouse until Patrice spoke.

“I was rude earlier,” Patrice confessed while fiddling with the hem of her t-shirt. Terry closed his heavy eyes to cure the burning sensation growing by the minute but acknowledged her statement with a confused grunt. She continued. “I never asked how you were doing. The whole thing about my ex sort of brought up old feelings.” 

He frowned, hurt by her revelation. “You know I wasn’t trying to hurt you, right?” 

“You never are. Same ol’ honorable TJ. Terry, I mean.” 

“TJ for you.” 

Again he popped one eye open and paired it with a grin that disamered Patrice and made her giggle like her high school self. The sound had him resolve that he’d spend his whole life making stupid faces if it meant she’d get some joy from them. 

“You ready to tell me everything I missed or are you content with popping up on my porch? And how long do you plan to be here eating all my food, anyway?” 

“I don’t think you wanna hear that,” he answered in an attempt to dodge the loaded question. Patrice persisted. 

“No, I do. I see the tattoos and the fresh haircut. TJ turned into a man while he was gone. At least let me get to know this new person.” 

“I grew up,” he sighed after some time. “Gained some. Lost a lot. Still trying to pick up the pieces.”

“What’d you lose?” 

“Lately? Money. Family. Shit, my mind.” 

“Why?”

“Mike died.” An abrupt interruption of an already complicated conversation brought forth a long pause. He waited for an interjection but found none, prompting him to offer more details. “He was killed. In jail. I tried to get him out and bring him home but I was too late.” Terry answered without making eye contact. Shame wouldn’t allow him to meet her potential judgment.

Patrice mentally cycled through names and faces until she realized the gravity of Terry’s statement. She reached out to breach their unspoken barrier and grabbed his hand which he accepted with no pushback.

“You wanna talk about it?” 

“Not really,” he answered before squeezing her hand and finally returning her eye contact. “I handled everything. It’s over for now. I’m here with you. We can focus on that.” 

“Even though you keep skipping how long you’ll stay.”

Patrice’s warmth was starting to take a backseat to her cold nature. Old wounds had started to re-open and rebuild a wall they both thought they’d successfully hurdled. Despite her attempt to pull her hand out of his grasp, Terry stayed put. He eyed her for a moment, picking up on a thin veil of tears threatening to form at her water line. 

She watched his normally steely blue-gray eyes soften into something that mirrored the softness he carried when they were kids. She couldn’t find the gumption to look away as he brought her knuckles up to his lips for a set of short kisses before looking back up at her. Pleading. Begging for any indication that she had softened her heart toward him. 

“Treecey, I’m sorry. I don’t know how else to say it. You meant more to me than the way I left and I pray every day for a chance to make it right. We crossed a line that night and I wasn’t sure what to do. I didn’t handle that like a man should have. I’m sorry until I’m blue in the face.” 

Sincerity was thick in his voice despite his low, even tone. 

Patrice listened without a word. A single tear cascaded down her face despite her valiant attempts to keep her emotions at bay. She swore she’d never cry about Terrence Richmond again. But old habits die hard. 

Terry used his free hand to swipe away that tear and the next one sitting at her lower lash line with the pad of his thumb.

“Say something,” he pleaded. “Anything. Tell me you hate me.” 

“You know I don’t hate you,” she whispered, too choked up to continue without a deep breath. “I…I just feel like you took a piece of me with you, you know? And you never wrote back. You never called. You shut me out like we were never friends. We could’ve gone back to how things were.” 

“I fucked that up.” 

“I’m aware. But that doesn’t mean that I trust you won’t do it again. No matter how much I don’t hate you, I’m not eighteen anymore. My patience is thin. I can’t allow you to turn my world upside down again.” 

“Hand to God I wouldn’t dream of it.” 

“Yeah. I hope so.” Though she whispered, Patrice’s words sliced through Terry like a hot knife through butter. 

He hung his head in defeat as she pulled her hand from his grasp and made quick work of standing from the bench. Her footsteps retreated past him and to the back door until she paused. 

He looked over his shoulder to find her eyes closed and chin pointed to the sky in contemplative silence. This was it. The final blow. 

She took a deep breath and stared straight ahead. “Stay as long as you want. Junior’s living with his girlfriend now, so nobody’s coming to make you leave. Tomorrow, we can go get you some new clothes. I’m tired of looking at those raggedy t-shirts already.” 

Terry took her jab in stride and gave her a half smile as a sign of compliance. “Yes ma’am. Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Lock the door behind you when you come in.” 

“Good night, Treecey.” His farewell came in an annoyingly sweet voice as a last-ditch effort to drag some loving words from her. Patrice stopped and gave him one more once over and a dismissive eye roll.

He waited for the ghost of a smile that disappeared before he could blink. She shook her head and took a step inside the house.

“Shut up, Terry. Go to bed.” 

Terry hid his amusement until she was out of sight, leaving him alone to grin at how even her rebukes felt like love letters. 

“Shut up,” he repeated to himself as he closed his eyes to doze again. “Hm. I’ll take it.” 

TAGS: @planetblaque

Happy to tag whoever is interested.

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 1

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Summary: The Atreides daughter is sent off to Giedi Prime to marry the Harkonnen heir in an attempt to quell the feuding Great Houses. The bride, however, must prove her grit and earn the respect of her new family if she is to survive her new life. Perhaps she will find that she had more Harkonnen in her than she thought.

TW: none (for now)

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (just not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, cannon what cannon

Word Count: 1.2k

A/N: Please bear with me, it has been ages since I've written anything and this is my first ever work of fanfiction. I've never written in the second person before so if you catch any mistakes, especially in verb tenses, please let me know. English is not my first language. Also, this might start out a bit slow but I promise things will pick up soon.

The smell of grass and the crashing waves of Caladan brought you comfort as you stood before the starship that had been rented from the Spacing Guild.

Your brother had insisted on accompanying you to Giedi Prime, but a round trip would have been unnecessarily expensive, even with the vast wealth of your Great House. Besides, it would be foolish to deliver the heir of House Atreides to the home world of their sworn enemies. It was bad enough they had to send you there.

"Give them hell," Paul teased as he hugged you goodbye.

You laughed, but you knew his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He had faith in your strength and ferocity, but he had much less faith in the hospitality of the Harkonnens.

"I'll miss you," you pull away and try to give him a reassuring smile but you, yourself, are not so certain of your fate.

You made your way to your mother, next in line to bid you farewell.

"Remember your training." Lady Jessica held your face and planted a tender kiss on your forehead. She had already given you all the advice she could.

You take her hands in yours and kiss them. "I will," you tell her solemnly.

You finally make it to your father, whose eyes are already welling with tears.

"My darling princess," his voice cracks as he lays a hand on your cheek. The Duke may seem a stoic man to most, but those who truly knew him knew he had a big heart.

Perhaps it is because you are one of those people that you finally feel that weight in your chest that you've been dreading since the signing of your marriage pact. It will be a truly long time before you would see your family again. If you could ever see them at all.

The Duke waves at an attendant who approaches with a silver tray. Leto takes the dagger resting on it and places it in your hands. "To remind you that you will always be an Atreides, that you will always be my daughter."

You let your tears fall as you hold the gift close to your chest.

"Don't cry now," your father pulls you into a hug, hoping to hide his own tears, "or I might never let you go."

You let a laugh slip through the sobs. You knew it was already decided and it is your duty to fulfill. The Sisterhood and the Emperor himself endorsed the match. Nothing could change it now.

The harsh light of Giedi Prime's black sun assaulted your eyes as you made your way down the starship's gangplank. The stark, high-contrast black and white made everything a pain to look at. You were thankful for the veils of your travelling gowns for providing you at least some shade.

You were greeted by House Harkonnen's steward, Jaromir Naggul, and swiftly led into the imposing, Brutalist fortress of their stronghold. You were almost happy to escape the infrared outside.

"Your belongings are being sent to your new quarters as we speak," Jaromir, a lanky but stately man, informs you. "You may change out of your traveling clothes and rest there. The Baron will receive you in the throne room in the afternoon."

You note his accent and the mild contempt in his voice, as if you were an inconvenience.

"This is Iassa," he gestures to one of the servants that had been following you through the halls. "She is your assigned slave. Should you need anything, you may tell her."

The word almost knocks the breath out of you.

You eyes turn to Iassa in her pale gray robes and you give her a polite nod. She hastily curtsies in return.

You knew the Harkonnens and even the Emperor kept slaves, but you suppose it never occurred to you that you would be charged with one yourself.

"Of course," Jaromir continues, "any of the servants in the fortress will be at your command, but Iassa will be in waiting for you in particular."

"Of course," you reply coldly.

"You will be staying in the guest wing for now," Jaromir says as he shows you the door to your quarters. "Of course, until your wedding. When you will then be moved to the na-Baron's apartments."

"...of course," you repeat, grateful again for your veils that they hide your dread.

You are silent as Iassa helps you into a black gown for your audience with the baron. It is the fashionable color in the Harkonnen home world. Although there were many other 'fashionable' traits on Giedi Prime, this was the only one you felt comfortable adopting right now. The complete lack of hair in every individual you had seen was certainly unsettling, but you sensed it would be rude to speak about it.

"What is the na-Baron like?" you ask.

Iassa pauses her fastening of your dress, she swallows. "He is a fearsome warrior, my lady," she keeps her gaze averted, "handsome and popular with the people."

Her voice was shaky but she seemed genuine. You only wonder if those words hold the same implications here as they do back home.

You look over to Iassa as she fetches your shoes. It's not difficult to see that she fears you. You cannot help but feel that that is all there is. You are still an off-worlder. An Atreides no less. She harbors no respect for you.

You take care to style your hair in the fashions of Caladan, fastening a falcon-like pin at the back of your head. The symbol of your house. Perhaps it is a risky choice, to be seen as defiant by the baron should he notice, but you could already feel the black sun beginning to drain the life out of you. The thrill of quiet defiance would have to sustain you for now.

Jaromir returns in time to fetch you and you are led to the throne room.

The baron's grotesque floating body looms over you and his subjects. You had never met any of the Harkonnens before but you were sure that was him.

"Welcome to your new home, Lady Atreides," the Baron utters your last name with thinly veiled loathing. "Let me present my nephew, Feyd-Rautha."

A tall muscular young man steps forward. Stately and regal as a Harkonnen could be, he looks over you with condescending eyes.

He certainly looked like a warrior, and you could see how the people of Giedi Prime could find him handsome, but you find yourself wanting to spit in his face.

"Forgive me for not greeting you when you landed, my lady," the na-Baron bows to you. His gravelly voice sends a chill down your spine, "I was preoccupied at the time. I trust you have settled well?"

You curtsy in turn, "I'm sure my lord had important duties to attend to. I am grateful for your hospitality. My rooms are very comfortable."

"Do not find them too comfortable young lady," the Baron calls from afloat his chair, "your wedding celebrations are to begin and you will be sharing rooms with my nephew before long."

Feyd-Rautha smirks at this and you are almost willing to cast decorum aside to slap it off his face.

"Tomorrow, your groom will take part in the arena to demonstrate his prowess as a worthy husband and leader, as per the traditions of our house," the Baron announces. "I'm sure you will make a point to attend."

"I would not miss it, dear Baron."

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

[fave-fight]

ROUND 1, MATCH 41

NO MAGIC, POWERS, WEAPONS, OR ADDITIONAL HELP FROM OTHERS

L Lawliet:

“He's got some sick capoeira shit, kicked Light in the face once. It's such a cool & unusual fighting style I dont think anyone will have a strategy for it. ”

“He knows capoeira and is good at it, and is surprisingly good at taking a hit to the face. Also, I love him, that counts for something, right?”

A horse:

“*David Attenborough voice*  Ah! Here we see the noble horse. Truly one of nature's least survivable animals. This pathetic specimen cannot handle the breakage of it's legs, because it is too intellectually limited to avoid using the damaged appendage. In a fight with virtually any other animal the impressive strength that a stallion may demonstrate is immediately made secondary to the limited survivability of a horse.  Horses are not good fighters. I don't like horses. They will lose many many fights.  Thank you for coming to my (David H Attenborough's) TED Talk.”

“i saw this on the spreadsheet and thought it was funny so i'm supporting it with a vote. let's get a horse in this fight”

“Have you tried fighting a horse? Shit's scary :(”

[justmystical]

The Forgotten- 1

Pairing: Lucifer x Butterfly!fem!reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel x Star vs the forces of evil

Warnings: Pre-season of Hazbin hotel, Alternative Universe

Two | Navigation

(Name) Butterfly is the Second Princess of Mewni and the Younger Sister of Queen Eclipsa.She has long red hair ,light Turquoise eyes and red round shaped marks on her cheeks.

Being the second Princess she didn't experience using her Family Relic,the Magic wand of the Butterflies that was pass down to generations to generations. Ofcourse she already knew from the beginning she wouldn't wield it. However her late Mother Queen Solaria the Monster Carver requested that she would given a replica of the family wand.

When her Mother was alive she would always want to protect her two daughters,so when she reigned Mewni she requested to the Embodiment of the Magic Book of there family to make a replica for her Protection.Just when her sister turned fourteen she received it.

She was thankfull for her mother's gift even though it was the last gift she ever received from her.

When she touched her wand it turned to a key like wand.She also found out that she can turn it to a necklace,she expect what would happen next...

She was mourning her mother's death and wanted someone to comfort her, suddenly her tears fell from her eyes to her wand and it lit up.

That surprised her very much and watched as the one ascend through the air and watch it transforms to a cat?!

This was the best thing that happened to her in weeks after her mother's death, a cat that was loyal to her and comforted her in hours mourning. It felt she felt and she decided to name her KeeKee.

Timeskip

You were currently having breakfast with your sister and her husband, yeah you never did like Shastacan or what's his name. You see him as rude and so full of himself,so you really don't how your sister survives him. If you were her you would rather feed yourself to monsters.

"So n/n how's your lesson with Glossaryck been going?"Your sister Eclipsa asked you, you stopped eating and looked at your sister "well, to be completely honest sister?poor Glossaryck is having a hard time"i giggled and Eclipse joined in"my,my sister don't give him a hard time"

You saluted and she laughed again, You and Your sister were always close but sometimes you feel like she hiding something from you.

As Breakfasts came to an end, you said goodbye to my sister and well except for Shastacan.

You removed your necklace and let transform into a cat " hewo Keekee"you said in a baby voice and she rubbed her head on your hand.

"should we visit another dimension?i think Glossaryck is going with sister today"You told her" and i may have stolen a portal scissor , don't tell anyone okay"

You went to your room to change into something comfortable, you put on a cloak and gotten everything you need ready.

Keekee transforms back into a key necklace as you put the hood of the cloak on. You cut the air to open a portal.

Earth

You visited here multiple times cause you a curious Princess.

Here it was so different from Mewni,its very interesting to say the least.

You explored more around and Keekee already transformed earlier as she guide you through the paths,she was given to you like she was your babysitter as some people joke.

You were to busy looking around you didn't noticed Keekee to be distracted to something.When you finally noticed you ran try to find your beloved pet.

"Keekee?where are you girl?" You shouted and looked around until you saw her in the hands of a blonde short man with a top hat he was sitting down by a tree.

It looked like Keekee was comforting him like she comforted you..

You walked closer to get a glimpse of the man he had the most beautiful face you ever seen and you were shocked to see he had similar marks on the cheeks like yours.

"hello?"you said which made the man jumped in surprise.

He looked at you and you remove your hood"hi?"he replied voice hoarse.

Was he crying?

Keekee saw you and rubbed herself on your leg"oh is this your cat?"you nodded.

"well I didn't know sorry..."

"it's alright,it seemed like you needed it..."you said"can i sit down with you?"he looked confused but nodded.

"hasn't anyone told you about stranger danger?"he asked and i laughed.

"well i like danger and it looks like you could use someone to talk to...my cat doesn't usually comfort any other people... she's like a detector for people who need a little help" you trailed off looking at Keekee.

"how can you be sure i need someone?"

"well,Keekee does and i trust my feline companion"

He laughed and it was like music to your ears.

"I'm (Name) by the way , what's yours?"

He froze and looked hesitant in telling you his name.

"it's umm.."

You looked at him with a confused face

"it's Lucifer..."he fully expect for you to run away.

But you didn't and smiled.

"nice to meet you Lucifer"

Lucifer yet again had to suffer his punishment. Only seeing the bad of his doings, he was summoned by a bunch of people devoted to him. They had sacrificed a lamb , baby lamb.

He can't endure this.. he only want people to have freedom and this is the consequences he got.

He teleported out out of that part of the forest and sat by a trying to maintain his breathing.

He sobbed for this retched cursed upon him.

Until he heard a meowing and saw a cat walking towards him at first he was scared to harm this little creature.

But It seems like it wasn't scared of him and for awhile it comforted him.

"KeeKee!"

He heard a luring voice but didn't moved an inch.

Until the girl greeted him,he was hesitant in interacting with this girl.

For some reason this girl is giving a source of good energy, not only that she was also gorgeous.

At the end he thought she would ran away from his name. But for some reason this girl seem confused at my hesitantion

How odd...

A/n: i know Keekee is the embodiment of the hotel but for the sake of this story and it's an alternative universe

[gabessquishytum]

I cannot get over the soft Alpha Dream and Omega Hob from your previous ask

I keep imagining

1. PREGNANT SEX PREGNANT SEX with Hob gloriously riding Dream's fat knot well into his 9th month... which may have triggered labor.

2. The doctors telling Dream he isn't allowed to come in the birthing chamber despite Hob sobbing and screaming that he needs Dream. Suddenly, the shadows are growing darker and was Dream always that tall, and the doctors finally get survival instincts and let him in.

3. A chubby baby girl that has Dream wrapped around her little finger. She looks like Hob copied himself with her big brown eyes and soft curls and Dream is helplessly spoiling her.

Soft and permissive alpha Dream spoiling and adoring his omega Hob is really the most beautiful thing, isn't it?

Dream never meant to end up mated and fathering children with a human omega (albeit an immortal one), and sometimes he takes a good look in the mirror and wonders what the hell he's doing. But then he hears Hob calling for him, or he catches sight of their daughter, or the scent of home wafts against his skin... and suddenly he can't imagine being anywhere else.

People do say that Hob is spoiled. He's so... un-omegaish, in some ways. He has opinions and he gets himself into trouble and he's not in the least bit modest... but he's so incredibly attractive that most people understand why Dream is so soft with him. There's just something inherently charismatic about Hob. Especially when he's showing off his alpha, or doting on his children. It's impossible to imagine denying him anything.

Dream rather enjoys letting Hob boss him around in their exquisite townhouse. He is master of the entire dreaming of course, so it's a pleasant change for him to be dominated by his little human omega. Possibly he should dissuade Hob from his apparent goal to populate the earth with little Gadlings, but how can he resist when his omega sweetly asks to be bred yet again. He's beautiful when he's full and round with Dream’s children, demanding that Dream provide him with his favoured food craving and his knot simultaneously.

Why would Dream brood alone his castle, when he could have all of that?

[candycandy00]

Finding Love in a Zombie Apocalypse - A JJK Interactive Romance Fanfic Round 3

Read the details about this event here!

Round 1 | Round 2

During a zombie apocalypse, you meet a group of seven handsome men. Which one will you choose to be your survival/romantic partner?

Vote for the man you want to be eliminated! The man with the most votes will not be killed off in the story, but he will be removed from all future polls and his branching story will be closed off!

Reminder: Vote for the man you DO NOT want to survive with! You are voting someone OUT!

After this round, every man voted out will not have his part posted!

In the previous round, Man #4, Toji, was voted out!

Dividers by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more!

As the zombie horde begins flooding into the store, slowed only by the narrow opening of a single floor to ceiling window, you and the other survivors flee toward the back entrance of the store. 

As you run, you trip on a discarded can of food, your foot flying out from under you. With a cry of alarm, you hit the floor. Looking up, you realize the others didn’t notice. In the chaos, they didn’t even hear you scream.

Man #1: Choso

You yell for help, but you don’t think anyone can hear you over the moans of the zombies and the called out directions of the men at the front of the pack. But as you watch their backs as they get further away, you see one of them turn around. 

It’s Choso! He sees you struggling to stand up in your panic, and runs back for you. He hurriedly pulls you to your feet. Up ahead, the others seem to have noticed that something’s wrong, so they’ve slowed or stopped to look back. 

The two of you run toward the rest of the group, but a zombie grabs at Choso’s loose fitting shirt. You run over and try to help him pull free, but he simply twists around and knocks the zombie’s rotting hand away in some sort of martial arts move. 

“I didn’t know you could do that!” you yell over the chaos as you both continue running. 

“I can’t die here! I have to make it to the next town,” he says back. “My little brother Yuji is waiting for me!”

Ah, so that’s who it was. You admire his dedication, and you hope from the bottom of your heart that he can get to his brother and protect him. But in the meantime, the two of you dodge grabbing zombies as you run to catch up with the others. 

It isn’t lost on you that, despite his desperation to reach his brother, he still risked his life to come back for you.

Man #2: Sukuna

As you and Choso rejoin the group, you notice a couple of unhappy looks being thrown your way, even though most of the men seem relieved that you’re okay. You ignore them, running along beside them. 

It doesn’t take long for you to realize you’re slowing them down. They’re all taller than you, with longer legs and more stamina, so they’re outpacing you quickly. Most of them seem to have slowed to let you keep up, but at least one has run ahead and another, Sukuna, is grumbling complaints under his breath. 

Finally he moves closer to you and picks you up, slinging you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

You yelp in surprise, and in return he gives your ass a light smack. “You can’t keep up, princess,” he says in a mocking tone, picking up speed and running as fast as the others despite the added weight. 

You’re not sure how to respond to his rough treatment, but ultimately you’re thankful that he’s getting you out of danger. “Uh, thanks,” you say, hoping he can hear you. 

His hand is gripping the backs of your thighs, holding you in place. “Don’t mention it,” he replies. He really doesn’t seem scared or worried at all, as if this highly dangerous situation is simply entertainment to break up his boredom. It’s a bit worrying, but at the same time, you feel safe in his grasp. 

When the group finally reaches the back loading area, he sits you down, and quickly turns to shut the door and hold it in place with his massive body while the others decide on the best strategy of getting out.

Man #3: Geto Suguru

Three of the men are standing in a cluster, hurriedly planning out the next move. Geto, Nanami, and Higuruma seem to be the “brains” of this group, each bringing up rapid fire ideas and discussing them quickly and efficiently. But in the end, it’s Geto who decides on which strategy to use. Clearly, he’s the one they defer to. 

He turns to face everyone else and says, “We’ll open the loading gate and slip out as quietly as possible. There are several trucks parked outside, and chances are high that we can get at least one of them started. We’ll split up and check the trucks for keys.”

Everyone nods and agrees to the plan. Choso climbs up and looks out the window you and Higuruma looked through earlier. “There’s only around twenty out here,” he calls. 

Geto look over the group. “Split into groups of two. One person watches while the other searches. Be careful and be quiet.”

Everyone nods and begins pairing up. Geto approaches Gojo, and you realize you often see the two of them together. They must be friends. 

While the others are preparing, you step over to speak to him. “What do you think our chances are?”

He’s wearing a complicated expression. “Good, I hope. Otherwise I’ve just doomed us all.”

You wish he didn’t take responsibility for everything, because it seems to be wearing him down.

Man #4: Fushiguro Toji

The only person who hasn’t paired up yet is Toji, probably because he’s been very vocal about wanting to ditch everyone else. But you’d rather be with him than alone so you approach him. 

“Guess it’s you and me,” you say. 

He shrugs, then says, “Stick close to me. I won’t let you get bitten.”

You’re not sure how much you trust him, but he certainly looks strong enough to fend off a lot of zombies. So you hover close behind him as Geto opens the back loading door. As it slowly rises, making a sound that seems way too loud, a few zombies begin crawling in. Sukuna is at the front, paired with Choso. The two of them are taking out zombies more quickly than the corpses can come in. 

Behind them, Nanami and Higuruma are standing ready to take care of any that slip through. Next are you and Toji, with Gojo behind you waiting for Geto to join him once the gate is open enough for everyone to run through. 

Finally it’s high enough, and the whole group hurries out into the back parking lot. All the pairs scatter toward the huge trucks parked out there, and you start toward one of them yourself before you feel Toji’s hand on your arm, stopping you. 

“My car is parked out front. I can make it.”

You look at him in shock. “You’re ditching us?!”

His expression softens somewhat. “Look, I have a kid. Last I heard, he was still in the city with some relatives. I have to get back there and get him out.”

Oh. That certainly explains a lot. You can’t say you blame him for breaking off from the group in this case. 

“You can come with me if you want,” he says. “Hide nearby. I’ll get my car and pull around here. If you’re still here, I’ll pick you up, but if you’re not, I’ll assume you went with them.” And with that, he runs toward the front of the store, knocking down zombies as he goes.

Man #5: Higuruma Hiromi

You stand there kind of stunned, not sure what to think about Toji’s offer. You’re so distracted that you don’t notice the zombie approaching until it’s right on you! 

You yelp in alarm, dodging its grasp and slipping around behind it. You have your crowbar tucked into your backpack, sticking out for easy access. You grab it and swing, hitting it in the head. It falls down but doesn’t die, suddenly grabbing your ankle and biting! Thankfully, the duck tape Higuruma helped you apply seems to have blocked the bite. 

The zombie is holding on tight despite you trying to kick it off, and two more are coming closer. Out of nowhere, a steel bat swings down and smashes the zombie’s head. You look up to see Higuruma. 

“Geto got a truck started,” he says, taking your hand and pulling you along. “Let’s go!”

A small group of zombies stands in your way, looking in all directions. You notice the sound of an engine running. That must be what they’re looking for. Higuruma ducks behind a car, pulling you with him. 

“Can we go around?” you ask, trying to see how many there are and the easiest path to avoid them.

“We won’t need to,” he says, surprisingly calm. Higuruma pulls something out of his bag, a can of soda. You wonder what he plans to do with it for a second before he throws it, hitting a car several yards away and triggering a blaring alarm. 

The zombies begin shambling toward the car, and after they’ve left, the two of you come out from behind the car. “That was amazing,” you tell him. 

He looks a little embarrassed but he smiles faintly. “I had a car like that once. I remembered how loud the alarm was.”  Then he takes your hand again. “Come on!”

Man #6: Gojo Satoru

As you and Higuruma near the truck Geto got started, you hear the sounds of a scuffle. You arrive to find Gojo fighting off a small horde of zombies. He’s wielding the biggest wrench you’ve ever seen, and he’s eerily silent as he mows down the zombies with shocking ease. There’s a ferocity you didn’t expect from the cheerful, easy going man you met in the store. 

Is this really the same guy? 

His blue eyes seem to be gleaming as zombie blood flies through the air, splattering his clothes. It’s almost as if… he’s feral. 

You stand there for a moment, not sure if you should jump in to help or not. He doesn’t seem like he needs any assistance, but to not do anything while someone else is fighting seems wrong. You start forward, but Higuruma stops you. 

“Best to just leave him be. In that state he might accidentally attack you.”

This surprises you, but you can sort of see how that could happen. He’s swinging the wrench around wildly, at anything that moves near him. Finally the last of the zombies around him go down, and he’s left standing above a pile of bodies, panting. He looks up, and for a brief moment he looks terrifying, but then he smiles at you. 

“Oh, hey, you guys made it,” he says, his voice back to its cheerful usual tone. Then he blinks. “Where’s Toji?”

“Uh, he said he wanted to go to the front and get his car,” you say. 

Higuruma sighs beside you. “That idiot. There’s no way he’ll make it.”

Gojo laughs in a friendly way. “I don’t know about that. He’s unstoppable when he’s determined!”

You stare at him, thinking he looked pretty unstoppable himself just a moment ago. But Gojo smiles brightly at you. It’s the kind of smile that makes you feel like everything will be okay. “Come on, Suguru is waiting in the truck!”

Man #7: Nanami Kento

“Wait, where’s Nanami?” you ask, turning to Higuruma. 

“He found some supplies in the back of the truck we searched. I grabbed as many as I could but he was getting more. He told me to go ahead.”

Just then you spot him in the distance, running toward you, his bag looking heavy and bloated at his side. He motions toward the truck as he calls out, “Get in! I’m right behind you!”

The others begin climbing in, including Choso and Sukuna who just arrived. Apparently they trust that Nanami will make it, but you’re not so sure. There’s a crowd of zombies following after him. 

As you watch, a few of them get close enough to grab at Nanami. He whirls around, chopping the rotted hands off with a huge meat cleaver, then continues running. But that few seconds of time he lost comes back to bite him immediately. Three more zombies have gotten close enough to reach him. 

Without giving it another thought, you clench your crowbar and run toward him. You knock one away from him while he deals with the other two. 

“I told you to get in the truck,” he says sternly, not at all happy that you came back for him. But there’s deep concern laced through his tone. He doesn’t want you to endanger yourself for him. 

“I’m not leaving you behind,” you say as the two of you run toward the truck. 

He kicks a zombie out of the way and brings his cleaver down on another. “And I’m not letting you get hurt trying to help me!”

With the path cleared, you both pick up speed to reach the truck, where the others are waiting. The trailer portion is open in the back, and you can see Sukuna, Choso, and Higuruma inside. Gojo and Geto must be in the cab. 

Nanami climbs into the trailer, then extends his hand to you. “Come on,” he says, and the kindness in his eyes puts you at ease.

Tag List:

@tadabzzzbee @babysoo-meu @atomicweaselpaperapricot

[evilbihan]

Bi-Han is an honorable man

I can't believe that I'm making yet another post pointing out the obvious but every time I go into a Youtube comment section I'm starting to question whether me and the rest of the Mortal Kombat fandom have even played the same game.

1. He shows opponents mercy

Sub-Zero: You want peace? Let us be. Liu Kang: The Lin Kuei's sins aren't easily forgiven.

Sub-Zero: Surrender and Shao will show mercy. Mileena: If you believe that, you're a fool.

Sub-Zero: Walk away while you can. Raiden: I'll never give up, never surrender.

Sub-Zero: I won't hold back, Brother. Scorpion: Do your worst.

Sub-Zero: We have no cause for dispute. Kitana: You aided Shao's attempt to steal the throne!

These dialogues honestly speak for themselves already, they don't even need explaining. Compare that to actual villains like General Shao who sends Reiko after Bi-Han to kill him simply because he "doesn't like loose ends" even after Bi-Han saved him or Shang Tsung who killed Reptile's family out of nothing but sheer cruelty.

The fact that Bi-Han is willing to let people walk away from a fight, that he gives them a chance to walk away alive, speaks volumes about his personality. He warns his opponents in his intros and even during his end of round taunts ("Flee now and live."), he tries to solve things peacefully and without violence if possible. He's not bloodthirsty, malicious or eager to kill anyone, but will do so if given no other choice.

Despite Bi-Han's flaws, a man willing to show an opponent mercy is an honorable man. SPOILERS AHEAD: May I again remind you that Kuai Liang is not willing to show a defeated and dying Bi-Han mercy when he gets turned into Noob against his will? Not only that, but Kuai Liang wouldn't have hesitated to kill Frost who is probably around Hanzo's age at his own wedding if Harumi hadn't stepped in to save her. Harumi had to beg Kuai Liang to show someone mercy, while Bi-Han grants it without a second thought. Like it or not, at least in that one aspect, Bi-Han is the better man.

I don't know why some people think of him as this aggressive guy going around trying to pick fights with everyone when all he wants is to be left alone? It's wild to me how people think he's the problem here.

2. He respects/admires their fighting skills

Sub-Zero: You will surely test my might. Ashrah: I will overwhelm it, Sub-Zero.

Sub-Zero: This fight I will long remember. General Shao: Who says you will survive it?

Sub-Zero: I'm pleased to fight Outworld's foremost mage. Rain: Will it also please you to lose?

Sub-Zero: I hear your skills are formidable. Li Mei: As are those of all who have been Umgadi.

Can we also talk about how respectful Bi-Han is towards his opponents? He compliments them on their skills as opposed to Kuai Liang who even talks down to his own allies. Yes, Bi-Han is arrogant, but he can still acknowledge other people's strengths and respect them, even if they are his foes.

3. He admits when he's wrong

Sub-Zero: I was wrong to trust you. General Shao: Yes, Earthrealmer. You were.

Sub-Zero: I wasn't aware of Shang Tsung's experiments. Liu Kang: Had you known, would your choice have been different?

Sub-Zero: Your mother's death is regrettable. Kitana: I consider you complicit, Bi-Han.

You can say what you want about him, but he certainly takes responsibility for his actions and even shows regret over some of them. Bi-Han might not be the most compassionate character, but he does express some sympathy towards others. Compare that to Kuai Liang who tells Havik it's his own fault that his face was burned off as if he had nothing to do with it. Yes, Bi-Han doesn't show much sympathy towards Baraka for his condition, but neither does Kuai Liang. Why Kuai Liang is still considered the more honorable brother regardless of that and his very obvious ableism, is beyond me.

Bi-Han's good traits are all too often overlooked. I don't know if it's because people don't pay attention to intros, but it's so easy to see he's not a bad person deep down. It's just the media comprehension skills of most MK fans that are seriously lacking.

[ghostboneswrites2]

A Mess - Volume 2

Part 1

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Summary: Your early days in Alexandria with Daryl.

Warnings: injury, profanity, smut

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

        Alexandria was a hard place to get used to, and it was even harder to fit in. Not even a week in and punches had been thrown, lives had been lost, things previously swept under the rug coming to light.

       While you were thankful for the walls and the luxuries within, there was nothing you heard more dear to your heart than the peaceful nights you’d spent with Daryl since your arrival. 

        Once your group was split into two big houses, Daryl was able to lay claim to the basement in one of them, and of course that meant you’d stay there too. With your relationship in full blossom and no longer under wraps, there was no reason not to share a room.

        This particular night was one of the best so far. You’d spent most of the night fucking like rabbits, especially with access to hot running water. With bathed bodies, the possibilities and positions were endless. Nothing held you back from devouring each other like rabid beasts. 

        By the third round, though, you’d both become quite tired, yet still too wound up to sleep. So, you’d just lay there under the covers and chat. 

        “I still can’t believe Merle was your brother.” You said. “You two are so different.”

        “Yeah, well, we didn’t used to be. Used to be just as hot headed as him.” He recalled as his fingers wandered mindlessly through your hair. It was dark in your little basement now, with only the light of the moon casting through the small sliver of a window near the ceiling. 

        You propped your head up on your hand, fondly admiring your love. He fascinated you. He was always so multifaceted. 

        “Yeah. I could see it.” You smirked. He shot you a playful glare, not that you could see it so well in the dark. 

        Nights like those were hard to come by, and somehow always ended sooner than you’d like.

        He yawned and slapped a heavy hand over his face, running it down the length of his chin. 

        “Bout time we got some sleep.” He sighed. With a pout and a groan, you rolled over on your side and got comfortable. He did the same, facing the opposite direction of you, only touching by your intertwined feet at the foot of the bed. 

        Things just worked this way for a while. Until, of course, shit hit the fan, which it always seemed to do. 

        When the Wolves attacked, a lot of lives were lost within the community. Had it not been for you and Carol, it probably would have been a lot more. Despite your knack for surviving shitty situations, you didn’t escape this one unscathed. One of the Wolves you took to bat hadn’t gone down so easily. By the time it was all over, when Daryl found you after the chaos had died down, you had a machete lodged through your arm. It went through clean enough, just barely missing anything too important. You did lose a lot of blood, though, and your arm was out of commission for over a week.

         After you were all bandaged up at the infirmary, Daryl hovered over you like a cloud. Opening doors, fixing plates, tying shoes. There wasn’t a single thing he’d let you do on your own. 

        While it was sweet and chivalrous, it got old kind of fast. You hated being debilitated, and you hated being treated as such even more. 

        You figured at least a shower could be done alone and independently. You snuck off to the bathroom one afternoon and shut the door behind you, wriggling out of your clothes while the water heated up and steamed the room nicely. You took a deep breath and stepped in the hot stream, vowing to release all your frustrations as you bathed. You only had a little while longer to heal, and surely you could manage being babies for just a while longer before you snapped.

        While you were trying to find your zen and enjoy some much needed solitude, Daryl had crept in the bathroom to check in and offer help. He shoved the curtain to the side. You jumped and cursed at him; “Daryl, what the fuck?”

         “Shouldn’t be showerin’. Can’t get your bandage wet.” He said simply as he shut off the water. The absence of heat made you shiver. You crossed your working arm over your chest and clenched your jaw.

        “Daryl. I’m capable of bathing.” You seethed. He ignored your wrathful glare and switched the flow to the faucet before he plugged the drain and motioned for you to sit down. “No.” You pouted. 

        “C’mon. I’ll leave ya alone after the water fills.” He told you. Reluctantly you relented and sat down, back against the far end of the tub. 

        He sat on the side of the tub, hunched over, waiting for the water to fill so he could leave, as promised. For a while you just stared at him angrily. Why couldn’t he let you do anything on your own? He had never been so protective before. Sure, when the situation called for it, but now? It didn’t seem like such a threat to take a shower. All these things frustrated you, yet, a faint smile still rigged at the corner of your lips. 

        Here was a man who had a job, and surely better things to do, yet, every second of free time he had, he dedicated to making sure you were safe and comfortable and taken care of. Had suburban life changed him so much, so fast?

        “Wha’s that look for?” He finally asked, noticing your little smile.

        “Nothin’.” You shrugged innocently. He turned to you and glared.

        “Spit it out.” He demanded.

        “It’s just.. You’re so sweet sometimes. Even when it’s annoying.” You teased. 

        He turned the water off as it covered your body and stood up, staring down at you. His eyes wandered over your bare skin from head to toe.

        “Whatever. Jus’ don’t want ya gettin’ an infection or hurtin’ yourself any worse.” 

        “I can take care of myself, Daryl.” You sighed, shutting your eyes and sinking further into the warm bath while your injured arm remained above the water.

        “I know.” He relented. “But that don’t mean ya can’t be taken care of sometimes.”

        You opened your eyes again to find him still visually roaming over every dip and curve of your naked body. You smirked. 

        “Like what ya see?” You taunted in a sultry tone. He ran his tongue over his teeth.

        “Don’t get no ideas. Don’t wanna hurt ya.” He said, trying to shut you down before you got him going. It was too late, though, as your free hand had already begun to trail over your breasts and down between your thighs. He watched you for a bit as you teased yourself, his mouth just slightly agape. He often found himself wondering how he bagged such a fine damsel. 

        As you traced a finger up and down your slit, he sighed and gave in. He crouched down beside you and dunked his hand in the water.

        “Need some help?” He offered softly. You grinned and chewed on your bottom lip, pulling your hand back up to your breasts to make room for him.

         He wasted no time. His hand found your mound and teased little trails up and down our slit just to watch the way you absentmindedly squirmed for his touch. He always felt a little nervous or self conscious when things started to get heated between you two, but somehow your body language always brought him back down to earth. Your movements always reminded him how badly you wanted him.

        He slipped one finger inside you first, curving it and massaging while his thumb rubbed over your clit. You allowed tiny sounds to escape you, trying to be conscious of the others in the home who might be around to hear you.

        When the second finger joined the first, you gasped. Your hips moved around rhythmically as they reacted to the pace at which he massaged your sensitive walls. 

        “Still wanna take care o’ yourself?” He whispered. “Cause I can stop.”

        “No.” You whined. “Please.” 

        He smirked. Truth be told, your neediness was a much welcome contradiction to your irritation with him since you’d hurt your arm.

        “But I thought ya—“

         He went to keep teasing you but you cut him off again.

         “No. No. I don’t. I want this.” You rambled breathlessly as he built you up more and more. It was like there was a coil in your lower half, winding and winding up until it was so tight you couldn’t breath. 

        He could tell you were getting close so he kept his movements steady. 

        “Sshhh..” He cooed as your sounds got a little louder. You slapped your free hand over your mouth to muffle your voice as you began to teeter over the edge. Voices could be heard outside the bathroom door as the other dwellers of the house came upstairs and got ready for bed. He could just barely make out someone asking who was in the bathroom taking so long. “Y’almost done?” He whispered. You nodded quickly, hoping he’d take you all the way before someone came knocking. 

        Right on cue, your eyes practically bulged out of your head as you sucked in a sharp breath. Tremors quacked through you as you let out a shaky moan into your hand. The coil had snapped, and you hadn’t cum that hard in a while. 

        When your high has simmered back down, he gave you a moment to collect yourself before he was helping you up and drying you down. 

        “Must’ve needed that.” He smirked. “That attitude o’ yours was gettin’ kinda old.”

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

Masterlist // Taglist

tags: @kissmeunicornbaobei @thesadcatt0 @clairealeehelsing @duckybird101 @tmntfixationxreader @ryoujoking @blackvelveteen1339 @yondus-girl @ladylincoln @sunshinebug9 @saylum559 @yoowhatthefuck @duffmckagansbandana @celtic-crossbow @virginsexgod69 @dazzling-roaring-20s @l0kilaufeys0n7 @uhnanix

[skullhorn59]

Clouded Sensations

A/N: my first Hazbin Hotel Fanfic! this is going to be multi chaptered! and definitely smut >:), but this part is more a small sneak peak into what I'm planning rather than an actual chapter. if you wanna request anything, go for it! Tags are going to get added progressively!

Pairings: Valentino x Fem!Reader Legend: ❲☆❳ - flashback, 『♡』 = change of scenes Warnings/Promises: Valentino, Manipulation, Drugs (his smoke/saliva), flirting, alcohol, smoking

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Minors DNI 🚨🚔

Valentino is sitting comfortably on the leather seat in the booth of one of his many clubs throughout Hell. beside him are two demons, employees of his, Dia and Summer. the two girls sit on the pimps lap as he takes a long drap of his cigarette and blows out it's red smoke. the other two Vee's are sitting in the same booth, but don't pay very much attention.

You are at the bar, just another demon trying to make a living, without being put too much into the spotlight. you never wanted to be noticed by the Vee's, at least not more than necessary. yeah - just trying to survive. from time to time, you get out from the bar to bring out drinks to guests, giving them a friendly smile if they give you a tip.

as you're ordered to bring another round of drinks to the Vee's booth, you can't shake the feeling of being watched. you pick up the tray of glasses before you make your way over, already so self-conscious about yourself that you walk very stiff. you have never been the type of demon for revealing clothes, not even as you were alive. everything you own covered you good, and you always wear black, helping you blend in better - or so you thought.

as you put the glasses down, Vox regards you with a glance, and Velvette ignores you completely. relieved, you turn to leave, but then you notice the Moth Demons grin. it looks almost predatory.

you turn to leave, but your wrist is quickly grabbed by one of his hands, his skin is cool to the touch. he nearly purrs as he begins speaking. "Why don't you stay and join us, Cariño?"

you feel your face heat up, and you try to keep your voice from shaking as you answer the Overlord.

"I'm sorry, Sir, but I have work to do. and besides, I'm not very fond of shar-.." your voice breaks, and you have to clear your throat before finishing your sentence, "... sharing."

you free your wrist from his grip, and hastily hurry away, into the safety of the bar. Fuck! you denied THE Valentino! for as much as you knew about him, he killed sinners for less! before panic could settle in, you take a deep breath and continue your work, trying to avoid any gazes towards the booth.

but Valentino wasn't going to give up this easily. he watches you from across the room, his eyes tracing your every movement. after a while, he stands up and with a flick of one of his wrists, gestures the two female demons to leave. he then saunters over to the bar, leaning against it casually. "Whats your poison?", he asks with a charming grin, letting his eyes roam over the array of bottles behind the counter.

as you look up from the glass you were cleaning, you freeze for a moment. no way he came here for you, right? ... Right??? you keep yourself calm and pretend not to give a single care in the world as you lower your gaze back to the glass, keeping your movements steady and casual, your voice calm as you respond.

"I'm a lightweight. a few glasses of a good Vodka Cola mix, and I'm done for. although," you tilt your head, lost in thought for a moment, your heart pounding against your chest in both fear and unwanted desire, "I've never had any hangovers. not even as I was alive. and I never have memory loss either. it's kinda cool." oh God, you have to stop telling so many details!! you're practically serving him your weaknesses on a silver platter!

The Moth Demon regards you a toothy smirk, his gold tooth reflecting the light off of it. "you have good taste, Cariño. I'll invite you on a couple of glasses.~", his voice is practically dripping with venomous honey.

you raise an eyebrow at him, but begin preparing two glasses with the mix. "you know, I'm still working my shift, so I'm not too keen on getting drunk just now." - "I know Conchita, don't worry your pretty little head about it.~" he leans forward on his elbows, his lower pair of arms resting on his hips as he grabs the glass you just finished pouring. the Overlord downs it in one gulp, before setting the glass down. as he notices your stare, he licks his lips seductively.

wait, is Valentino flirting with you?? Holy fuck. this is suuuuch a dangerous game you're playing. if you make a mistake, you're as good as dead. but at this point, you can't just stop. rather drunk at work than dead, right?...

"Right.", you say out loud, raising your own glass to your lips. you notice how his gaze lingers on you, he practically undresses you with his eyes alone. you catch yourself staring at his eyes with half lidded eyes, slowly downing your own glasses contents. May Lucifer help you, you're a lost cause...

A/N: I hope you enjoyed this snipped, leave a comment if you wanna be added to the taglist, and I'll add you right away!~ and hey, if you got any suggestions/ideas, please do tell! I'm all ears! :)

─❲♡❳▷Hazbin Masterlist ─❲♡❳▷Main List

[jennilah]

a very dumb deep dive

gather round, i saw a few people say they want to crawl into the head of someone who had trouble telling Hoffman and Strahm apart upon first viewing. I offer mine for the picking because i think ive identified, at least in MY personal experience, the various elements that came together that formed the ultimate confusion

if this is not relatable nor informative, i hope it is at least a little silly. this is all in good fun and obviously the difference between them is clear as day to me now

this will be longer than it should be.

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER ONE...

I do not remember character names. Not until they are recurring, or I've rewatched a film a few times. Sometimes it will take me an entire 12-21 episode season length for me to know characters by name in a show. I've seen some Saw films more than 6 times now and I still don't know everyone in the traps 🤷‍♀️

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER TWO..

at the time of watching Saw IV for the first time, the madness has not yet set in for Hoffman and Strahm for me. In fact, I didn't like either of them. I wasn't looking at them with my deranged eyes yet.

Without my crazy brain activated, sometimes I'll get face blindness between people who have similar enough hair and stuff. I'll use clothes as an identifier if I can

Meaning, I didn't notice anything like face details, mannerisms, body shapes- to me, it was one dark haired white guy in a suit and another dark haired white guy in a suit who both worked in law enforcement.

uh oh

PRECURSOR POINT NUMBER THREE..

in a very elaborate plot like this with many interwoven stories being told, especially with police procedure, has a lot of details that get lost on me upon first watch because I simply easily misunderstand what is happening. I zone out on stuff like legal talk because I don't know that world at all, and the more general plot information to absorb, the more I forget.

"But [character] SAYS..!" oh, I'm aware! If you pay attention and can remember character names, everything is pretty clear in this movie!

so between all three points, you see where I'm starting to go with this.

THAT BRINGS US TO..

Saw IV. let me describe to you what I believe my thought process was to the best of my memory.

This guy shows up. as far as I knew, this was the first time I've met this character. I forgot he was in Saw III because he was only in it for a second and I definitely don't remember him among the sea of other characters.

ok. sure. new detective because the others are dead. got it 👌

next time we see him is a few minutes later, now in this lighting. I don't have his features memorized yet. I'm pretty sure I put it together that it was the same guy as before, and I see he's in a new outfit.

keep in mind he is not at all referred to with a NAME yet, until Perez shows up and introduces all three of them at the same time

here comes "Strahm," as he was quickly introduced in practically the same breath, from the FBI. and he looks like this.

I mentally go "ok FBI guy in the suit" because my occasional bout of face blindness is activating rn. The problems are on the horizon for me

I survived that scene, but the scene right after? I'm doomed.

Major Confusion #1:

this treacherous interrogation footage, ft Hoffman's ass and slutty, slutty suspenders (but I did NOT give him even a second glance here yet. genuinely.)

I'm 100% sure I just didn't know who I was looking at in this footage at all just because of the outfit change

and then the boys are back in town. and they're BOTH WEARING THIS...

This was mean. this was fucked. I was doomed. My brain is already churning trying to keep up with what the footage was, now there's two dark haired white men in dark suits. Who was who again? I think the guy who just turned off the TV was the new detective. The guy who was talking to the Swat guy before. Yeah....

Major Confusion #2:

Next time we see them, Strahm and Perez are watching the interrogation footage. They quickly start talking Jigsaw stuff and my mind is already working overtime figuring out what information is and isn't important to hold on to.

Hoffman says hello for like 1 minute and then fucks off.

My brain is going "ok.. that footage was an old interrogation... mhm..."

this is the information my brain has decided to retain from that scene for later.

Major Confusion #3

this dark haired white guy in a suit got kidnapped idfk. the shots are all very short and he's enshrouded in shadow or SUPER close-up, and I don't know to recognize him by his lips yet. clearly Im more focused on his hair color and suit, so this could be fuckin anyone

Perez said something about officers being in danger earlier, I think I thought maybe it was irony and the cocky FBI guy was the one who got kidnapped instead? i dont know.

then after the first test of Rigg's game, you see Perez and Strahm again for a SECOND. I def didn't pay them much attention. My mind is elsewhere- the insanity of the previous scene

Major Confusion #4:

then FINALLY... we see Hoffman again in the slut chair

and what have we learned about me so far?

let me sum up my logic for you

Now, if only I was certain on their names..

I'm not going to go over every single scene, but I guarantee you, the confusion was fully set in by this point. That detective from the beginning either really just went home, or he was working with Perez. Or maybe it's the FBI guy and someone else is in the chair? No idea.

My brain retained that one slightly misguided bit of information from the interrogation footage and thought This Guy, Whoever This Guy Is, was interrogating Jill a second time. (Wrong.)

there was no memory of the guy's big ass in that footage or anything. that was also way the fuck in the intro and there was a LOT more that happened between then and now in the movie to remember now. and people really don't say each other's names that often.

Yeah there's also that flashback footage showing The Guy In the Chair and Rigg back in the day, but I was too far gone. That was simply the story of how That Guy and Art Blanc knew each other.

and boy does Chair Guy not do much for the rest of the movie, so there was not much more info about his identity that I could try to work out. Maybe he was just some new random guy meant to die in someone else's game because he is kind of a dirty cop?

Pretty sure I was resigned to the fact that I was watching completely utterly confused by the third act.

then fucking JEFF DENLON shows up and i remember either mentally or physically throwing my hands up like "ok now i REALLY dont know whats going on"

I remember I was still excited by the thrill of it, just completely lost as to who was who and what the fuck was going on.

as Eric Matthews was yelling "WHO'S COMING THROUGH THAT DOOR?" i remember going "I DONT KNOW, MAN!!!!!!"

The Grand Clear-up:

THE REVEAL.

Through the power of the Hello Zepp reveal montage, I finally understood "OHHHH YOU'RE THE DETECTIVE FROM THE BEGINNING!!!"

i had other confusions that i eventually worked out, but I went into Saw V much more clear on who was who. There was Hoffman the evil detective, and Strahm the jerk FBI guy (who I then softened up to throughout V, no longer thinking he was a jerk)

and, if I couldn't physically tell who was on screen because I still struggled a little bit with that... I looked for Strahm's bandage :)

and thats my story lmao...

anyway finding out just how many other people mixed them up or confused them or couldn't tell them apart makes me feel so validated thank u. i understand u

[noiriarti]

Inappropriate: Armitage Hux x Reader - Ch. 1

TW: nsfw stuff, mentions of Brendol Hux being an abusive father, mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of masturbation and sex.

Summary: Hux has to travel to Starkiller Base to check on construction. His favorite lieutenant comes with him, but these horrible, terribly inappropriate thoughts just won't stop.

[Ch. 1], Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4

Hux knew he had chosen the wrong career when he packed for the transport. Maybe if he was a radar technician, or a trooper, or some kind of farmer, this wouldn't be happening. He would be trapped on a transport with that stupid child, Ren, for over a full day. As if he wasn't capable enough to check in on the progress of Starkiller Base's construction on his own. As if Ren could do anything but swing a lightsaber. But, when Snoke said to go, what was he supposed to do? Complain like a child that he couldn't stand that long near Ren? Tell Snoke the idea of bringing a liability like Ren to the barely-wired Base was a bad idea? So, he went. But he didn't have to be happy about it.

Fuming, he finished packing two more crisp uniforms, his datapad, and a coat for the journey. He also counted the rotations until his retirement--12,045, to be exact, if he managed to survive that long--and wondered if there was any way he could kill Ren in his sleep, if the bastard even slept. By the time he had gotten to the Finalizer's hangar, he had decided poison would be best, and that he'd move to some penthouse in Coruscant, get 5 cats, and become some miserly old curmudgeon once he was done working.

The hangar was one of his favorite places, following the bridge, because it housed so much controlled chaos. Just like his precious bridge, it was carefully managed, teeming with droids and techs, always working, always awake. He liked the brightness of the lights in both places, keeping him up through the night cycles, always working away at his datapad. At least Mitaka would be on the mission, he figured, and he was tolerable. And punctual, he noted as he walked around their transport, given that he could see a pair of boots under the nose of the ship. As he rounded the front, he came face-to-face not with Mitaka, but with you.

Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. As was usual when it came to you, he was done for. You had served under him for two years as a Lieutenant, his best strategist even with his rose-colored glasses off. You two worked closely together, which had been just about killing him. These feelings, these stupid stupid thoughts, would nestle in his brain every time he let his guard down. What if he just brushed your hands together, working late one night on the bridge? What would it be like to kiss you? What would it feel like to have your nails down his-- he stopped himself. That was completely inappropriate. And something he would think about a lot more later. With that thought firmly lodged in his head, he just had to act like a human being long enough for Mitaka to arrive, then he could wash it away in the refresher.

"General!" You broke the silence with a smile and a wave. He had asked you to stop saluting when you saw him, partially because you saw each other so often, but mainly because it reminded him of the fact that he was your commanding officer, and that his little crush was inappropriate. So, so, inappropriate.

"Lieutenant," he said, pausing. Small talk. Small talk. Right. "What brings you to the hangar?" he asked. Real smooth, dumbass.

"I'm coming with you on the mission to Starkiller, sir. You requested a Lieutenant come along, and Mitaka is in the medbay for...injuries, so I'm filling in," you replied. It didn't need to be said that the injuries were caused by Kylo Ren. That was the only cause of injuries in the bridge, anyway.

Normally, he would be thrilled to have you replace Mitaka. You were much more enjoyable to be around, and you weren't one of the people who regularly faced Ren's wrath, so it worked out for him. Except for the fact that he would be spending twenty-four hours, there and back, with you. He could feel the blush climbing up his neck, and he tried to defuse it. You had been a couple of years below him in the Academy, you had been on plenty of missions with him, and you had worked late into the night right beside him plenty of times. He knew you. He wouldn't do anything stupid, like thinking about your time in the Academy, when he helped you study for exams in the library and he imagined what it would be like to make out against one of the shelves--he stopped himself again. This was really getting out of hand, and if he kept going down that road he'd get hard in the middle of the hangar.

"I hope Mitaka recovers well, and that his injuries are not severe. He is a good Lieutenant," he said, mentally kicking himself. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Yeah, Dopheld is pretty okay, just some scrapes. It was... avoidable." Despite your careful language, he knew what you were telling him. You had both harbored a dislike of Ren ever since he joined the Order, but, since he entered your orbits, both of you took issue with him. You, more because he hurt your colleagues. Hux, for obvious reasons. Regardless, you were both united in your general dislike of the Commander. 

The pilot stepped out of the ship, telling both of you that you could get on. He gestured for you to go first, out of some semblance of politeness. He kept his eyes pointedly on the back of your head and not your ass as he walked. Back. Of. The. Head. Your hair--he thought about your hair when it was loose, back in social events at the Academy or during balls, and how he had wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through it, or tuck it behind your ear, or pull it--stars, he definitely needed a shower at this point.

As you entered the ship, he was unpleasantly surprised by how cramped it was, and the pilot showed you to your rooms. His was pretty standard fare: a bed, a refresher, a nightstand. At least it's not shared, he thought. He nodded at the pilot and set his bag down, taking off his coat and unceremoniously flopping it onto a nearby chair. He fished out his datapad and sent you a brief comm.

"Shall we meet in the lounge at 1800 for a briefing on the Base? We can also get dinner, if you would like." He typed the last part hurriedly, sending it before he could think better of it. That was normal, right? For work, right? He had 45 minutes to go cool off before he saw you again. Or, stars forbid, Ren.

Ren still hadn't made it onto the ship, and takeoff was in five minutes. Hux smiled to himself. Maybe there was hope that this mission could be fun after all. He was still, rather embarrassingly, flustered from your previous encounter. He shed his uniform quickly, getting to the refresher and turning on the water as cold as it would go. The ship started under his feet, engines whirring and coming to life as it prepared for takeoff. Hux braced himself against the walls of the shower, smiling even wider. 

Ren hadn't made it. There was just you and him, working on the ship for a full rotation. His brain immediately thought of ways to spend the time that were less than savory. Against the wall, for one. On the floor, on the bed. Maybe in the refresher? He leaned his forehead against the shower wall, willing those thoughts away as he felt himself harden. His hand instinctively went to his cock, and he drew in a halting breath. Not now.

This was going to be a hard, hard twenty-four hours.

AN: this has been banging around in my head for a while. man i love my armitage nice and awkward and pining. let me know what you think!!

[riacte]

🥁 Welcome to the first ever "Choose an unhinged Renchanting moment" ✨ALL STARS EDITION✨!!! 🥁

In which winners of the previous nine (!!) polls and the Last Life burning tower scene will battle it out for ULTIMATE UNHINGED RENCHANTING MOMENT!! Deliberately made to cross over from 2023 to 2024 to wish for a new year full of Renchanting <3

If you don't want to read my lengthy and dramatic sports guy commentary you can skip to the poll right at the end.

Now, let's introduce our beloved competitors! With some clips sponsored by @ani-craft, thank you as always <3

Starting from Round 1, the OG, the beginning of this series in Feb 2023— congrats to "Ren calling Maidtyn "very very sexy" completely unprovoked"!. Now, fellow Tumblr users, this is a historical moment because the Maidtyn trend was the Tumblr response to Martyn being active on Tumblr, and it snowballed into the Mint Mistletoes of MCC19 wearing skins of maid dresses (and a butler suit). This is the tangible impact of the Tumblr fan community on MCC. And of course it's about maid dresses.

Round 1 was quickly followed up by Round 2, and narrowly winning by FOUR votes is... [drumroll] "r/place (2022) when Martyn helped place a pixel of blush on RK Ren"!. Truly a chaotic moment that somehow became a highlight even in the overall chaos of those few days.

But the numbers really peaked in Round 3, aka. the Limited Life edition when Martyn's lore stream repeatedly dropped bombs on us. 100% of these moments are from Martyn, by the way. But which unhinged moment was the most unhinged? Which moment will win like Martyn? Unsurprisingly, the most popular option are those two words that basically sum it up— "UNGUIDED HAND". An unhinged moment that won with a whopping 404 out of 1913 votes.

Things did not calm down after Limited Life. Some might say the moments only became more unhinged. 2.5 months after LimLife ended, Round 4 began. Most of these moments are also from Martyn. Most unhinged of all: "Martyn declaring in a low voice: 'Third Life never ended for me'." Yeah it sure didn't, buddy.

Fast forward to September 2023. Treebark Week 2023! Surely the perfect moment for a poll! Also, I need to add that I was so excited about Round 5 that I posted it before TBW ended and... let's say it immediately got worse the day after I posted the poll. My hubris for assuming it was the end... Anyways, Martyn's Tumblr shenanigans kick in once again. Congrats to "Martyn saying nothing about an ask that claims his character is in love with Ren", which also ended up being a significant post to Scurvyblr. For reasons.

Two months after TBW, the pining gets exponentially worse. And I do mean exponentially. Enter Round 6, which has a lot of insane moments, but there was one clear winner, a moment that swept with 32% of the votes— everybody clap and cheer for "Martyn's 50 word 3L AU drabble - "Luck be with ye.... Hand"!! At the time of writing, that post has 4.1k notes. Martyn's just like us. He's writing fanfiction and that's so real of him.

Merely ten days later, fires are crackling, demons are giggling— it's the Decked Out open day! And we got a Renchanting feast! Round 7 emerged from That Iconic Burning Stone Box and was dedicated to moments the stream day. With 39% of the votes, the unhinged moment that swept was "Ren to Martyn: You have very fine lips there and a wonderful neck for kissing". Honorable mentions go to Martyn's Twitch chat (for surviving), Martyn's viewers (for clipping it with varying degrees of "what did he just say??"), and of course, False (for locking them in and kickstarting whatever the improv demon roleplay was).

A few weeks later, the flames have died down— or have they? Round 8 enters with a steel chair and Ren has more unhinged moments now. Martyn's Tumblr takes home another win with "Martyn reblogging a post that calls Ren his “Minecraft boyfriend”!! This is the third win that's from Martyn's Tumblr blog. You love to see it.

Last but not the least, Round 9 from last week! It's finally Ren's turn to dominate. Our winner is.... "Ren mentions going to sleep and dreaming of Martyn’s 'beautiful, beautiful eyes'"!! Appropriately clipped with the caption "Insane".

But that's not all! In Round 1 + 2, I purposefully excluded the altar scene and the burning tower scene because I felt those two would sweep. Now, I think the altar scene is still untouchable but the burning tower seems almost normal now. (As normal as an unhinged moment could be.)

A new unhinged moment has appeared! Challenger approaching! Last Life Ren purposefully sets his tower on fire after knowing Martyn is watching him and Martyn runs to save him while screaming "Ren, what are you doing to yourself! Stop burning yourself!".

Okay, okay, my dramatic commentary is done. Hey, I'm not a Renchanting fan for nothing. Here's the poll. Have fun :D

Much love to all of you <3 here's to another year of unhinged Renchanting moments!

(Also sorry the r/place should be in 2022 not 2021)

[asvterias]

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟫: 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖮𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖧𝖺𝗌 𝖲𝗉𝗈𝗄𝖾𝗇

the cast // series masterlist

chap. 1 || chap. 2 || chap. 3 || chap. 4 || chap. 5 || chap. 6 || chap. 7 || chap. 8 || chap. 9

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Some Cursing, Hardcore Lesbian Angst, Clarisse is hopelessly swooning over Reader (honestly so real), Some More of Our Fav Couple Bonding, Clarisse is unbelievably DOWNBAD for Reader (like so respectfully 🤭), Kinda!OOC!Clarisse, Simp!Clarisse, Mention of Drugs (Marijuana), Implied Mentions of Illegal Drug Trade & Possession, Kinda Stoner!Adrianna

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Younger Brother!Percy Jackson ✘ Older Sister!Reader, (Brief) Chiron ✘ Daughter of Poseidon!Reader, Adrianna Smith ✘ Daughter of Poseidon!Reader, Clarisse La Rue ✘ Daughter of Poseidon!Reader

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: For final confirmation and eventual prophecy, the Jackson-Matthews siblings go to the Oracle. At the selection ceremony, Y/N and Percy must carefully choose their own two quest-mates.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 7.7k+

𝐓𝐚𝐠 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭: @starvviss @lov3rgiiirl @random-girls-loves @coolgirl458 @kjisbae17 @s0r0ws @a-fucking-sappho @lvc-lv @watchesstuff @marve1stranger @m00nd0v3 @lexasaurs634 @monaisbroke

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Tell a friend to tell a friend; SHE’S BACK!! Please don’t be a silent reader and interact within the chapter! If you wanna be tagged in this book, comment below and say ‘future tag’! Sorry, I had writer’s block and was on a hiatus for this book, school has been hectic.

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞 (𝟐): Also relax and enjoy because it’s a long one (👏😁)!! Idk why but I feel like Clarisse is still out of character, so please tell me if that’s true or not! 🙏🏾 Reader’s intuition is strong as hell and she stays on her A-Game!

🐚 ✘ 🗡️

𝖢𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝟫

𝖲𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 𝖮𝗇𝖾: 𝖤𝗉𝗂𝗌𝗈𝖽𝖾 𝖳𝗁𝗋𝖾𝖾

──── ⭑ ☆ ⭑ ────

The next day, Grover guided you two to an attic, telling you that the Oracle was the final confirmation to officially set out on a quest. As stated by the satyr protector, if the quest was to be fully completed, the Oracle would grant the quest-mates a prophecy.

Percy hesitantly stared at the attic, and you couldn’t blame him for it either. It looks like a sketchy attic, but at least it was still daylight so that settled some nerves, right?

Not for your brother though, he’s a scaredy-cat and you’re the reason he’s currently surviving. It’s a wonder how he managed to survive this long, even with your help.

Once Grover had left the two siblings alone, Percy began to panic. “I’m not going in there, I don’t care what you say,”

You rolled your eyes, “C’mon Percy, stop being such a baby, and let’s get this over with,”

“Doing this for our mother, right?” You encouraged him.

His expression faltered slightly at the mention of his mom and he nodded, determination replacing fear.

“For mom,”

You nodded at his confirmation, opening the door, and entering inside the attic with your brother close behind.

Walking up the stairs, the stairs creaked underneath the mixed weights of the two siblings as you surveyed the many items lingering around. Careful not to touch anything, you looked behind and swatted Percy’s hand away from a weird-looking object. Your brother released a pained yelp, quickly yanking his hand, and mustering the meanest glare ever at you.

“Are you crazy? Don’t touch anything in here, this place is already creepy as is,” You huffed as the blonde boy embarrassingly tended to his wounded hand.

“Message received,”

Further exploring the abandoned attic, a round window being the only light source, casting below on an old crooked woman sitting down.

What in the absolute fuck is that thing? Did Grover fuck us over or something? How is this old woman’s Halloween decoration supposed to give us advice on our quest?

“You see this shit too, right?” You asked your brother.

“What else could I be seeing?”

“Good, I thought I was going batshit crazy for a second there,”

“Talk to it…or her,” You nudged him forward.

“Talk to her?! Why don’t you do it?”

“Fuck no, I’m not talking to her!”

“You’re older,”

“And as the older sibling, I’m telling you to talk to it,”

“No,” He shakes his head, “Look we’ll flip for it, you’re heads and I’m tails.”

“I don’t have a quarter, dumbass.”

“Fine. Rock, paper, scissors,” He chose another alternative.

“Never mind, I’ll do it,” You rolled your eyes, pushing him out of the way, and slowly coming closer to the crooked old woman. “Hi, I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you.”

At that, the woman in the chair remained quiet, and unmoving too. You glanced at Percy, urging him to move forward and start speaking to the so-called Oracle as well.

“We were told a quest isn’t a quest until you’ve said so?”

Yet again, the woman stays silent, not moving an inch.

“Which is weird considering you’re a Halloween decoration,” Percy mutters, turning to you, “Look this is stupid, can we just leave, please?”

“As much as I want to leave, we have to get confirmation from the Oracle if we actually want to complete this quest,”

You grabbed a stick, poking the old woman with it, testing to see if she was alive or responsive at best. Your heart jumped out of your chest when the woman finally moved, fixing her neck posture, and sitting upright in the chair.

“Oh fuck,” You murmured, discarding the stick and distancing yourself from the woman.

“Oh geez,” Percy groaned, stepping backward. “You seem busy, we’ll come back,”

Percy reached out to grab your wrist, seeking your compliance then quickly followed your acceptance. Turning around to leave the creepy attic, you heard her breathing getting louder and more intense, earning your undivided attention.

Upon looking at the Oracle, she breathed out a green fog, which evolved into a large green cloud. In the midst of the green cloud, a man’s face appears, slightly startling the two siblings.

“Come on, really?” You retorted, unimpressed.

“You shall go west and face the god who has turned. And you shall find what was stolen and see it safely returned.” The Oracle, or rather the green smokey man states. “You shall also be betrayed by the one who calls you friend and fails to save what matters most in the end.”

Your eyes widened in astonishment at the revelation. There’s nothing like a bruising betrayal to make this quest more complicated and interesting.

Betrayed by a close friend? Who could it be? You’ve made a countless number of friends at Camp Half-Blood. Luke, Chris, Adrianna, Clarisse, Annabeth, or even Grover? Only time will tell and time isn’t on anyone’s side.

Okay, Y/N, time to eliminate the list of suspects you devised.

Starting easy, let’s assume it is Adrianna?! Hmm…fuck no. Not because you’re completely biased with her, it’s just because you trust and love her. Sometimes love and trust aren’t enough to stabilize a person, possibly only enough for them to spare that person. If there was a scenario where Adrianna was the lightning thief, you’d ignore it as if it was nothing. But god, just think of the betrayal you’d experienced from her, your first best friend doing that, where you’d never have the heart to suspect her at all. Hopefully, she isn’t the thief or you’d be losing your first real friend.

Maybe it’s Clarisse. God, you hoped it wasn’t her, you don’t date criminals. Even if there was a slight possibility of it being her, and technically you couldn’t blame her. Yet, she wouldn’t upstage a heist this life-threatening, putting her siblings in danger, much less her own father. As you said before, she isn’t stupid, she’s smart and once again you’re not underestimating her. She isn’t the lightning thief, you simply refused her to be, your love story isn’t ending before it starts.

Or is it Annabeth? Yeah right, you’re not underestimating her or anything, because surely that girl has some skills. But, you knew the young girl was her mother’s biggest fan and wouldn’t potentially want to disgrace Athena. Her dedication to winning over her mother was far greater than the temptation of stealing Zeus’s master bolt. So she checks out!

Grover?! No, it can’t be, he doesn’t have the heart for betrayal. He’s the literal embodiment of an innocent goat, you doubt he’d cause any harm whatsoever. That’s it, all you got for Grover! With one look at this satyr, it’s plain as day, he isn’t the lightning thief and he has no reason to be.

And then there were two more. Surprisingly, Luke and Chris were at the top of your suspect list so you kept your guard up around the brothers. Makes sense when you truly understand it. They’re the sons of Hermes, a god known for stealing, they have the natural ability for it and the perfect alibi to remain unsuspecting. They have the weapon, the alibi, and the motive, so what’s the true motive? The masterbolt is the beginning of a war, not the ending of one. There was a bigger picture to the problem, and people somehow seemed to forget.

It’s always the ones you never suspect which makes the betrayal even worse. Too bad, you were never close with them anyway, you wouldn’t be remorseful if it eventually was them.

Perhaps, the real lightning thief isn’t even on your suspect list. One way or another, someone at this camp is the lightning thief, and their reveal wasn’t going down without a fight.

──── ⭑ ☆ ⭑ ────

Now it was time for the selection ceremony as Chiron called it. Back at the dining pavilion with all the tables and chairs placed aside, an array of compatible demigods stood surrounding it. In the front and center, you stood alongside Percy, Chiron, and Dionysus.

“The Oracle has confirmed what we expected that this quest will proceed toward the Underworld where you will confront the god who has rebelled against his brothers, Hades,” Chiron announces to the other demigods, “The entrance to Hades’ domain lies under the city of Los Angeles. This is where you will journey to,”

He looks down at the two siblings, an uncertain expression settled across his face, “Time is short, and I only hope you two can manage against it,”

Looking down at the ground, a sense of hesitation formed in your stomach as you tried to push the doubts away.

Now is not the time to second guess. You needed to do this. This is all for your mother, Sally, right? Doing this for your mother, Y/N, the parent figure who’s possibly alive and loves you immensely. You can’t give up on her, not after she sacrificed herself for your safety.

“I have selected our most compelling candidates from which both siblings will each choose two to join you on this quest.”

Your eyes glanced over to the familiar faces of your friends, a small smile overtaking your lips.

“And ensure that we succeed–“

“Adrianna,” You calmly stated, staring at your blonde best friend. She internally cheered, smirking at Clarisse’s sudden jealousy of the girl. “I choose Adrianna as–“

Chiron squints his eyes at you, “Customarily, one waits to at least hear a name or two before choosing, are you sure you don’t wanna hear more?”

“Yep, I’m good with that. While we’re at it, can I choose my next person?”

Adrianna stifled a laugh at your statement and eagerness to quicken this process. This entire ordeal was getting quite boring and the sun was spanking, definitely not a great combination.

The older man looked speechless, allowing you to choose, “Of course, why not.”

“And…Clarisse,” You pondered, missing Percy’s frightened expression at your statement. Now it was Clarisse’s time to smirk at Adrianna’s annoyed face.

“Are you sure about your choices, Y/N?”

“Very much so,”

“No, I don’t think you are,” Percy gaped in bewilderment, roughly shaking his head.

The Matthews girl chuckles at her blonde brother’s suggestion to rethink choosing another quest-mate, preferably one who didn’t bully him.

“So be it,” Chiron smiles down at you, “The first quest mate will be Adrianna Smith and the second quest mate will be Clarisse La Rue.”

“Now it’s your turn,” You nudged Percy. “Choose wisely, we don’t need any stupid people tagging along, everyone’s accountable for their asses and actions,”

“…This thing, Zeus’s master bolt, we need to get it back, right?” Percy inquired of Chiron.

“Yes.” Chiron agreed.

“And it’s gonna be hard to get, yes? Even with a double amount of quest mates?”

“Extraordinarily,”

“And if the mission required someone to push me down a flight of stairs for it to succeed…you’d want someone who won’t hesitate when they do it.”

You don’t know why Percy acts like you wouldn’t fight him for the last poptart, much less push him down a flight of stairs. Swear he wants to be different in front of his future girlfriend so badly. Eh, can’t blame him either, you’d impress your future girlfriend at any given opportunity.

For a moment, Chiron seemed almost proud of Percy’s wishful thinking and turned to face the other demigods.

“Then I choose Annabeth.”

“The third quest mate will be Annabeth Chase.”

──── ⭑ ☆ ⭑ ────

Once the selection ceremony was finished, Chiron departed everyone to their daily routine. Percy briefly informs you of his next quest-mate, going off to search for the familiar satyr protector. Your friend, Adrianna went to talk to Luke, telling you to later meet in her cabin.

Deciding to head to Athena’s cabin, hopefully, to brighten up your mood and talk with Annabeth. Okay, was it totally obvious?! You didn’t have that many friends at Camp Half-Blood. Annabeth kept mostly to herself, yet showed her willingness to be a close friend. Soon enough, the bond between the two girls will be formed through effort and mutual likeness, amongst other things.

On your way back from Athena’s cabin, you recognized a familiar presence lurking behind you. Surprise, surprise, it was Clarisse and she wasn’t even being the tiniest bit of discreet. You caught a glimpse of her, eliciting a tiny chuckle, and halted your movements.

“A little word of advice, next time you try to sneak up on someone, be more discreet.” You advise cooly, eyes narrowing in irritation.

“I’ll keep that in mind,”

“What do you want Clarisse?”

Somehow, Clarisse managed to catch up to you. This conversation should be good unless it might end as your previous argument, and it wasn’t pretty.

“Can we talk?”

“No,” You deadpanned, resuming your walk away from her. Annoyed by her persistent behavior, she followed closely behind, highly dedicated in a conversation.

“Please, it’ll only be for five minutes,”

“So could my walk,”

“Five minutes, that’s all I ask,” She pleads.

Sighing in reluctance, giving Clarisse the benefit of the doubt, you faced her again.

What else could she possibly say to add more fuel to the fire? At least, you should hear her out.

“For what you said, I shouldn’t even give you 1 minute.” You agreed, shaking your head.

“Understandable,”

“I’m not talking to you,”

“That’s good because I wanna talk and hopefully you’ll listen to me,”

“Okay,”

“What’s wrong? Just last night, everything was good between us? What’s with the sudden switch up?”

“Last night wasn’t good…horrible, even…ok, I may have exaggerated that part. Whatever, last night was supposed to be extremely furious to you, but then I saw your saddened expression and my whole perspective changed. That’s why I listened to your worries and comforted you.” You explained to her, “Then I thought to try again tomorrow. You know what they say, everyday is a new day,”

“So you faked being sympathetic? Kinda say I didn’t expect that from you.”

“No, I didn’t, my concern was real and I regret doing so now.”

“Hmmm, kinda wish you kept that to yourself,”

“Oh, because you’re one to talk,” You reminded her in a flat tone. “Get to the point, Clarisse, why’d you truly want to talk to me?”

“Firstly, why did you choose me to go on this quest? Percy doesn’t like me at all and after our argument, I’m sure you don’t either.”

“Correct. Don’t feel flattered because I chose you as a quest mate, it’s common sense.”

“Then, why did you choose me?”

“Because you’re resourceful and a damn good fighter, I must admit.”

“Are you sure there isn’t anything else?” She persists, fidgeting with her hands.

“No, there isn’t. Would you like there to be something else?”

“No,” She sighed, casting her eyes downward. It was obvious to anyone that guilt was written all over her face. “What I said to you during our argument was–“

“Beyond repair, absolutely demeaning, extremely hurtful.” You listed off your thoughts with a shrug, “Gee, thanks,”

“Y/N–“

“Is that all?” You hastily cut her off. “Because you’re just wasting my precious time!”

“Yeah, I guess,”

“That’s the only good thing I heard leave your mouth since this conversation started,” You huffed in annoyance, spinning on your heel and storming off again. Just then, your mind clicked in remembrance of your other thoughts, probably knowing to hit Clarisse’s nerves. “Oh, and I almost forgot, guess you deserve a thank you for last night,”

She winced, “About last night.”

“Erase it. Scratch it. I don’t care whatever you do to just delete it from your memory, because it’s not happening again.” The Matthews girl interrupted with a faux smile, “It was a moment of weakness for the both of us. Unlike you, I feel sympathy for others so I disregarded my vendetta for a few minutes and comforted you.”

“But I don’t want to forget it. I swear, you have to believe me it’s been plaguing my mind ever since–“

“I don’t know what to believe from you nowadays, everything you say is a fucking lie.”

“Okay, I deserve that.”

“In all honesty, you deserve a lot more and you’re lucky I’m deciding to be peaceful.”

“I know what I said, you don’t have to remind me–“

“Too bad, I can do whatever I damn please, and that’s always reminding you! To quote a certain girl, “Our kiss didn’t mean anything. Never mind the fact that you stole my first kiss or your harsh declaration of never liking me.”

“I only said that out of anger, I wasn’t thinking straight.” She defended herself, backtracking when comprehending your statement, “Wait- what, I was your first kiss? I thought all those jokes were about my inexperience. As for your first kiss, you seemed pretty experienced to me.”

“Obviously I lied!”

“Why lie about not experiencing a first kiss?”

“So, I wouldn’t seem pathetic!”

“Y/N, you’re not pathetic!” She disagreed.

“Yes, I was, don’t try to convince me otherwise. I was pathetic for giving away my first kiss to some stranger, all because of some stupid game plan?” You chuckled, the bitterness easing into your tone, “When I envisioned my first kiss, I wanted it to be with someone I can completely trust and love wholeheartedly, not a girl who has daddy issues and is unable to communicate her emotions properly.”

“You’re gonna throw my daddy issues in there?”

“As a matter of fact, I am. I don’t dislike you for having daddy issues, everyone I know has daddy issues so that’s normal for me,” You shrugged, brushing aside the very common detail, “Luckily for us, I’m the one with the brains here and my mind is clear. The fact that you’re a good kisser only halfway makes up for that fuckery you trash-talked about my moms’ deaths.

“I’m a good kisser?” Clarisse shyly asked, rocking on her feet. It was a sight to behold, the current aggressive Ares girl now reduced to a blushing mess.

Were you going to let her live this memory down? Of course not, why should you?

Your head tilted, urging her to elaborate on, whether it’d be pure nonsense or logical sense.

“Am I? Because if we’re being honest, you were my first kiss too,”

“I think you being too honest got us on the outs now,” You recalled, clicking your tongue.

“Yeah, but like…” She shuffled on her feet, “Am I a good kisser?”

Out of all the things she chose to be focused on right now? Also having the outright audacity to plaster a giddy expression, her arrogance shining through, curiously waiting for an answer. What’s exactly stopping you from slapping her silly, just to reset her brain memory at the very best? No questions asked, just your action fulfilled.

However, you restrained from the temptation, “You can’t be serious right now! This isn’t about whether you’re a good kisser or not,”

“It’s not?”

“No, it’s not?! Focus please!”

“Right, sorry,” She sheepishly shakes her head, clearing her throat.

“If you want me to forgive you; try harder. So stop it with the shitty excuses and do better. Convince me that you’re worth forgiving about your harsh words. Chase after me if you want my forgiveness or even grovel if necessary. If you can’t do the simplest of things, then don’t even bother,”

“That’s all it takes?”

“Yes,” You nodded firmly, not a twitch of uncertainty in your expression.

“Give me my mother’s bracelet back too, I was stupid to give it to you in the first place,” Your hand eagerly stretched out, expecting the jewelry back in your claim.

She sighed, obliging to your fair request, solemnly glancing downwards at the bracelet. Taking off the jewelry, she placed it in your palm, hesitantly closing your hand to ensure your claim.

The exchange was awkward, to say the least. The quicker this quest goes by, the quicker you and Clarisse can forget about the entire affair. Or whatever she used to describe your fleeting situationship.

“Here, take your mother’s regret bracelet back.” You shoved your wrist, urging her to take it off.

She came closer, pausing momentarily once her hand rested on yours, holding and admiring it softly as you would disappear within seconds. A lazy smile overtakes her face, releasing a small hum when your approval continues, and rather melting into her touch.

However, all great fleeting moments must come to an end.

Blinking once, snapping from your trance-like state, giving her a once-over, and instantly yanking your hand. The Ares girl’s reaction time was quicker, reaching out to grab your hand before letting it drop to your side. Releasing a small gasp, Clarisse pulls your hand back on hers and finally meets your now-hardened gaze. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she frowned, ignoring the empty feeling in her stomach, and continued her statement, “No, I meant it when I said it,”

“Don’t pity me, Clarisse. The last thing I want is pity. After our argument and seemingly before our argument, all you did was pity me and make me look like an idiot!”

There was no kind undertone behind your words, only expressing the raging anger you truly felt.

“I’m not pitying you, I swear,” She frowned, attempting to reassure your outburst, “You’re not an idiot either. Please just keep it for now,”

“Fine, okay, whatever,” You sighed, giving up, glimpsing downward at her hand. A small subtle tingle rushes through your hand, observing how her hands fit perfectly onto yours.

Clearing your throat, straightening your body posture as your gaze reconnects with her, retracting your hand back. “I’ll hold on to it for now,”

“Thank you,” Her voice settles down into a gentle easy-going whisper.

“Don’t expect a congratulatory kiss either,” You commented, folding your arms.

“I’m not…look, can we talk later in private?” She noticed other campers peering around, trying to gain access to your conversation. Anywhere. Somewhere with you, so she can finally openly express her true feelings without the suffocating tense atmosphere of others. “Where there are less people around?”

“No! Whatever you wanna say, speak freely!” You exclaimed, gaining many bystanders’ attention.

“What are you doing? I thought we were making up.” She hushed, slightly tilting her head in a perfect mixture of annoyance and confusion.

“I changed my mind, what’s a little more drama?” You shrugged, earning a tiny scoff from the other girl.

A random camper dared to shout out, “Y’all our entertainment live is on, don’t miss it or you’ll regret it!”

Upon his loud announcement, another crowd of campers stormed over, joining the already-formed audience of campers.

“Does someone have the popcorn?”

“Yeah, it’s right there, don’t spill any!”

“Anyone want a pack of Oreos?”

“I have a chocolate bar.”

“Sure, wanna trade?”

“You heard that kid right?! Please tell me you heard that kid?!” Clarisse protests, pointing to the crowd of children. “They gathered a fucking audience, privacy is limited at this camp,”

“I heard him, loud and clear. Gonna give the people what they want since this camp doesn’t own a fucking television!”

“This had nothing to do with camp being on a low budget!” She argued, annoyed by your complete dismissal, “This conversation is between me and you. I would like to remain that way.”

“Since you had no problem disrespecting my moms’ deaths for the whole camp to overhear, this shouldn’t be too easy to repeat.”

Was that a bit harsh? Maybe. But that doesn’t matter, she disrespected your moms’ deaths and you weren’t going to forgive her because of a solemn apology. If Clarisse La Rue wanted to make things right with you, she’d do it and put in the effort without so many excuses.

At that, she stayed silent, contemplating her options on a further approach. Yet, she couldn’t do that with half of the camp watching her every move, and not very silently too. There was a beat of silence, her eyes analyzing every facial feature, attempting to understand your true emotions. An unknown knot formed in her stomach, noticing the slight strain on your forehead.

Then her eyes glanced over to the crowd of children, eagerly awaiting the next action. “Everyone scram!” She yelled, frustratingly at the audience of campers. Glancing at the crowd of campers, nobody moved and mumbled around to themselves.

“You think I’m playing?!” Her eyebrows raised in disbelief, daring the campers to challenge her.

She turned to you, her annoyed expression instantly dissolving at the sight of the other girl, glimpsing at the scrunchie around your wrist. “Can I…?” She motioned to the hair accessory.

“Yeah, whatever, it’s yours.” You roughly removed the scrunchie off your wrist and shoved it in her hand.

“Thanks,” She mumbles, lowering her head before returning to her aggressive persona and jogging closer over to the crowd. Weary of Clarisse’s presence, simultaneously shuffled backward with each step, ultimately distancing themselves further away.

Ironic how there’s strength in numbers yet they all seem to be terrified of her.

“You know what,” She clicks her tongue, tying her hair with the scrunchie. “Who wants to go first?”

Finally, the crowd of nosy campers disperses, everyone running away in all different directions.

“You’re so fucking unbelievable, La Rue!” You scoffed, getting ready to storm away once again. There she was, following after you, desperate to finish your conversation and not end in another argument.

“That was necessary, they wouldn’t leave!” She argued, a defensive tone increasing.

“So you threatened to fight them?!”

“Not all of them, I’m not stupid,”

“You sure?” You smirked, tilting your head.

Her mean expression instantly falters, your sarcastic remark creating doubtful thoughts. “Y- yes I am sure!” She stutters, finalizing an answer.

“Mhm…as much as our conversation had been torturous, I must go,” You nodded in agreement, starting to walk away, only realizing when she continued after you. “Will you follow me around until I talk?”

“If that’s what it takes, then yes, I will,” She insists with a firm head shake.

Rolling your eyes, you crossed your arms unimpressed and scoffed before continuing your walk.

That’s bullshit, she doesn’t have the energy to do that.

Hot on your heels behind you Clarisse acted, she followed after you.

You thought she was being immature, but she didn’t exactly prove you wrong either.

“You can’t be serious, Clarisse.”

“I am, I just wanna talk,”

“And how many times do I have to say it? I don’t wanna talk to you, not now and not ever!” You picked up your pace, irritated enough to flee from this impending argument.

“Camp Half-Blood isn’t that big, pretty girl. You can find places to hide but I will always find you,”

You chuckled at her statement, stopping your movements, turning around to face her, sending an evil glare in her direction. For a second, Clarisse looked almost hopeful that you stopped, finally giving her the chance to explain herself.

She internally gulped as you stepped closer, instantly regretting enlightening her hopes up too quickly.

“Listen to me well, Clarisse. What you said was completely unforgivable, so whatever I said about liking you is now gone!! Any kind of affliction I had with you is diminishing by every syllable I speak. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust, just like my mother, Sally, right?”

“Y/N–“

“If you’re so determined to chase after me, let’s see how sorry you really feel,”

“What does that mean?” Her eyes widened.

You tilted your head to the side, observing both her facial and body movements, wanting to see her crumble underneath your powerful gaze.

“Oh, you’ll find out soon enough,” Was all you said, venturing over to the cabins in sight.

At first, Clarisse was confused at your sudden arrival but once she viewed exactly what cabin you were sauntering toward, she immediately stopped in her tracks.

The Hephaestus cabin. The sworn rival of her father, so her enemy’s cabin by default. Most likely, Adrianna will be there. Clarisse is highly aware that Adrianna will enjoy this little spectacle between her new best friend and her sworn enemy. She hated when the blonde girl got too smug, especially if it was at Clarisse’s expense.

Suddenly, regaining the strength she had, grabbing onto your wrist, spinning you around to face her, and stepping closer to you. Close enough that your noses are touching, breathing intermingling with each other and your accelerating heartbeat betrayed the solemn expression. Meanwhile, your inner motions hinted at lingering thoughts so did your perspective of each other. Her gaze intently focused on your lips, admiring them while yours directed on her eyes, observing the dilation in them.

Slowly, she makes eye contact again, “Are you gonna tell her everything about us?” Her tone was calm and lighter, trying to remain understanding.

You breathed in slowly, drinking into her facial features, eyebrows furrowed in irritation.

The Matthews girl scowled, shoving her touch away from your wrist, ignoring how a frown immediately took over her face at your action. She hurt you way worse so don’t feel bad for her now, she deserved it.

“Us?!” You exclaimed, “There is no us! There will never be an us! Isn’t that what you said?!”

“At the time I was frustrated and acting so stupid,”

“Damn right, you were acting stupid!”

“I know that! I don’t need a constant reminder! What I did was fucked up, I get that–“

“No, I don’t think you get it! Too bad, Clarisse, I don’t care what you don’t need. And you fucking up doesn’t even cross the line of what you said. You’re so far past that white line, that you can’t even see it anymore, by now that line is a dot to you!”

“Don’t you think I feel guilty about what I said?! When I saw it written all over your face that I disrespected you I wanted to take everything back in an instant because the pain on your face could never compare to anything I’ve felt in my entire life.”

“So, congratulations on deciphering your emotions, next week, we’ll talk about your communication or commitment skills.” The Matthews girl sarcastically replied.

“I’d admit my part in our argument wasn’t my finest work,”

“That’s the difference between us, risse. Even if I knew your mom had died trying to save you, I would have never used it against you and disrespected both of you! I would have never ever said that against you, even if I was at my angriest, that’s called consideration of others’ feelings. But surprise, Clarisse La Rue doesn’t fucking know that or how to do that, she only knows how to hurt and take without feeling any goddamn remorse or sympathy and shame. I can’t believe I thought I had a crush on you.”

“Y/N, I said–“

“I told you to be quiet!” You yelled, weakly maintaining the shaky gasps escaping your mouth. Yet, even with your saddened voice cracks, effectively silencing The Ares girl.

“That’s the worst fucking part, Clarisse! Sorry doesn’t disregard someone’s death! Sorry is for an actual fixable mistake.”

“Y/N…” Her eyes were teary now, her cold mean demeanor vanishing within seconds, ultimately catching you by surprise. You’ve never seen Clarisse act like this, during the two days of knowing her. Often, she’s aggressive, suppressing her emotions, well the positive ones, but she seemed like another girl since this argument started. Staring at her waringly, your heart skipping a beat as she tries to latch onto your hand for comfort. “Please…stay. I’m so sorry,”

“No, no, no,” You shook your head, quickly forming unshed tears, causing a glossy vision and dismissing her comforting hand.

She couldn’t lure you in like that. If she didn’t want your argument to happen.

It was the consequences of her actions, a life lesson that Clarisse would firsthand experience. You would gladly show her but wished your current emotions weren’t also being dealt with by her entire being overall.

“I don’t want you here. I don’t want your fucking excuses. I don’t want any of your sick twisted versions of ill-sympathy.” With one last step forward, you stood ahead of Clarisse, noses now touching, and breaths intermingling into the hot summer air. For a while, you didn’t even know what your intentions were after this, but something in you didn’t want to pull away.

You scowled with a tense jaw, maintaining eye contact, and being certain to get your point across. Maybe, her stubborn mind will finally listen to her impatient heart.

“More importantly, I don’t want you anymore, so listen when I say this; stay the fuck away from me and we can coexist in harmony. Or else, I would go to Chiron and tell him I’m switching you out for another questmate, probably Luke or Chris.”

“I understand your anger toward me but don’t choose Luke or Chris. They’re not a good decision, not now or ever,”

“Why not? Are you jealous?”

“Why would I be jealous? You’re a lesbian, you don’t like boys overall,”

Okay, maybe that wasn’t your best comeback, but it gained a timely response.

“You don’t know who I like,” You took slight offense to her words, knowing she was ultimately right, but refusing to give her that satisfaction.

She stares at you unconvinced, sending a pointed gaze. “That lesbian pin on your shirt says otherwise.” Just like that, she stole her satisfaction away.

“Oh,” You bite your lip in embarrassment, glancing at the lesbian pin on your shirt, “Never mind that. What I say still stands!”

“You just shouldn’t trust them is all!”

“Way ahead of you, and now I have a new person to add to the ‘Don’t Trust’ List! Congratulations, Clarisse, you landed in the first place!”

“What–?” Confusion laced her features as you slammed the door in her face. From the amount of sheer force used in slamming the door, possibly alerting any of the Hephaestus children inside of their new guest.

Her footsteps were still heavy outside the door, contemplating whether to give you the necessary and asked space or to ignore your commands. A soft defeated sigh escapes her mouth, hearing the loud locking click and deciding to walk away from the cabin entirely, leaving you with unsettled thoughts.

Why was this so complicated? Why was Clarisse La Rue so complicated? Why is your love life already experiencing rocky times despite just starting? You’d expect the dramatics if one of you were dying, and the fragile bond grew immensely between the two. But not so soon and especially not by insulting your parents?

Everything was already a rollercoaster and you haven’t even left Camp Half-Blood as yet. Gods, is it only getting worse when you leave for the quest?

──── ⭑ ☆ ⭑ ────

You closed your eyes in frustration, rubbing your temples, trying to make the impending headache disappear. Adrianna comes into view, certainly not snooping and overhearing your fight with Clarisse.

“Yikes, what was that all about?” She joins you on the bed, flopping onto her stomach.

“Stop pretending like you didn’t overhear everything, Adri,” You exhaled, sluggishly walking towards her bed. The mattress was soft as you melted into the bedsheets, consumed by sudden tiredness. Sighing in relief, you laid on your back, gently shutting your eyes, certainly putting comfort first.

The intense feeling of Adrianna’s gaze fixated on her best friend didn’t go unnoticed as you peeked an eye open. Adrianna curiously peered down at you, expecting more information to include her insight.

“Yeah, you’re right,” She sighs, giving up the clueless act. The blonde girl noticed your saddened state and frowned at your gloominess, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” Repeating the same dreadful conversation with Clarisse to Adrianna was a headache in itself.

There was no need to be sad and spiteful.

“I just wanna forget about all of it. The past argument and now the recent argument with Clarisse! It seems all we do is fight and I hate it, even if we’re not on good terms!”

“Wow, you two are like an old cranky lesbian married couple trapped in a loveless marriage,”

“Don’t compare us to people being in a loveless marriage. Between me and Clarisse, I’m the most lovable girl, and last night was a prime example,”

“What do you mean by that?” Her tone was sharp and studious, quickly interrogating you for more.

You flinched at her harsh tone, “Forget I said that!”

Sometimes, you talk before your brain can properly process it and confess anything that slips past your mouth. It’s been biting you in the ass recently.

“Y/N!”

“It’s not that big a deal!”

By your chirpy tone alone, your best friend figured out your true encounter with Clarisse.

According to her disappointed reaction, you assumed that indeed it was a bigger deal than expected. So this entire time, your best friend thought you were progressing slowly with Clarisse, but rather regressing quickly. Going back to your old ways only created more problems than solutions. In this sense, your words should’ve outshined your actions, possibly resolving your Clarisse problems by now and not further driving a wedge between the two of you.

If tensions were high enough, how would it be on the quest? It’s imperative to make up with Clarisse before the quest, hopefully putting your personal issues aside and focusing on the crucial quest. For the sake of the other quest mates and yourselves.

“You made out with Clarisse?! Again?!” She groaned incredulously, eyes widening in surprise.

“Be grateful you didn’t walk on us this time!” You attempted to salvage your weak actions, being reminded of the forest incident and her overexaggeration.

“Trust me, I am! Explain everything beforehand, and keep the details of your makeout to yourself,”

“She was sad when I went into her cabin.”

“You emotionally took advantage of her?!”

“Okay, I wouldn’t say that. She kissed me first! And is it bad if I wanna do it again?”

“And you kissed back because you felt sorry for her or because you actually wanted to?”

You scratched your head, avoiding her gaze, “To me, that sounds like the same thing,”

“I’m not gonna blame you for being addicted to a guilty pleasure, we’re half humans after all.” She shrugged her shoulders, understanding your point.

“But…the kiss wasn’t a guilty pleasure…at least not to me,”

“Y/N, Y/N, have you learned nothing from our talk last night?”

“Well…she’s chasing after me, so technically…”

“Working in your favor.” She acknowledged the benefit but returned to the main focus. “She was sad? What was she crying about? Was her red eyes and all that shit?”

“About her dad, Ares, and don’t tell her I told you that,”

“Who would I tell?” She disagreed, scrunching her eyebrows. “Is it wrong if I say it’s humorous when someone is crying?”

“Adri!” You lightly chastised her with a tight-lipped smile, “It’s not funny to laugh at someone else crying,”

“It is when it’s Clarisse La Rue! I don’t think nobody ever saw her cry before!” She continuously laughs, clutching her stomach, much to your dismay.

“Well, I’m certain she wants to keep it that way!”

You muttered, flipping over, using your elbows for balance as you lay on your stomach and Adrianna repeated the same action.

“Why do you still care for her even after all she did?!”

“I don’t know…maybe a part of me still cares for her despite her harsh words.”

“Ok, making out with La Rue twice can not have you whipped already.” Another eye roll is earned with the statement, her face contorted in pure disbelief.

“It’s working now.” You mused.

“Did you let any of Aphrodite’s or Hecate’s kids use you as a test subject these past few days?”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“Then your stupidness is of your own accord.” She concludes, flicking your forehead in disappointment. A sharp yelp of pain escapes your lips, clutching your head in pain, awaiting the passing pain.

“Not helping Adri.” You mutter before a glare is sent her way.

“This is perfect blackmail material, with this, you can make Clarisse La Rue your bitch. Oh, this is so golden!” She cackles, blonde curls tickling her face.

“And since she’s coming on the quest, me and Percy can have front-row seats of her groveling for your attention. Oh, that’ll be a quest to remember.”

“You had this plan ready for how long?!”

“Since the day of the argument.”

“Wow…just wow,”

“I’m not even sorry, I can’t let my best friend go unscathed but she embarrassed and humiliated you, in front of everyone. Campers are still talking about the argument.”

“Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,”

Advice isn’t your strongest suit, and neither was hers. You realized that, but it didn’t stop you from saying it.

“You already ensured that from your makeout sessions with La Rue,” She retorted, earning a wry laugh from you.

“We’re best friends, our minds are mostly identical and full of sarcasm,”

“You’re right,”

“Bitch, you’re my soulmate, totally platonic,” She chirped, taking hold of your hand, the soft grip as you squeezed your grip on her hand.

You chuckle, “Did you just quote Maddy from Euphoria?”

“Who’s Maddy from Euphoria?”

“She’s played by a talented gorgeous actress,”

“It sucks camp doesn’t have internet, I can’t even have celebrity crushes,”

“Forgot this camp doesn’t own technology or cable.” You huffed, fidgeting with your braids, “One of these days, I’m making you watch all of my favorite shows and movies,”

Silence overwhelmed the cabin, the outside activities being drowned out, and a calm atmosphere lingered around. “Do you wanna…get high?” She hesitantly asked, wanting to ease the sudden tension rising.

It definitely took your mind off of Clarisse, but her ideal approach wasn’t her best work. Using drugs to distract your aching heart, entirely confused about Clarisse’s feelings about you.

“Adri!” You yelled, eyes widening in astonishment at her brazen suggestion.

“What?” She shrugged her shoulders, “Don’t worry, I’ll do it too so you won’t feel alone!”

“What? You’re offering me drugs in my time of need?”

“Yes, and…? You may feel better about this whole Clarisse situation.”

“Hard pass on the drugs, I’m sad, not stupid,”

“Okay, whatever you say,”

“Besides where did you get drugs from?”

“The older Demeter kids started an illegal drug trade and I happen to be a good employee of them,”

“What do you pay with? Aren’t you broke?! Isn’t everyone at this camp broke?”

“We pay them in gold drachmas.”

“Octopus-looking coins?”

“Yep,”

“Of course, my best friend is a stoner,” You shake your head in disbelief.

“Hey, you say that like it’s a bad thing!” She scoffs at your accusation, “I just get high when I’m stressed! I’m not insanely addicted and will go fucking crazy if I lacked weed,”

“How often is that? Daily or weekly?”

“Depends if many campers bother me,”

“So, daily then!”

“Relax, I have total self-control,”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,”

“Please tell me, you’re not planning on smuggling drugs on our quest.”

“Of course not. Let me just take them out of my bag,” She trailed off, avoiding eye contact, reaching out to grab her packing bag. A well-packaged stash of marijuana in a ziploc bag hidden floorboard underneath her bed. The blonde girl mustered a weak smile, holding your attention.“Can’t I just sneak a tiny bit of it?”

“Absolutely not,” You rebutted, blankly staring as the serious demeanor never faded despite the uncontrollable smile creeping onto your face.

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,”

“You’re not the boss of me!”

“But I am on this quest. Anything else, Adri?”

“Nope,” She exhaled, defeated at your statement.

You hummed, crossing your arms, quite content with the given response. “My thoughts exactly.”

“If this quest is so super boring, I will blame you.”

“I highly doubt that.”

“Right, you’re Poseidon’s youngest daughter, we’re gonna be fighting for our lives, aren’t we?”

“Percy is my brother.”

“Yeah so?”

“He’s also a forbidden child, like me.”

“So double the trouble? In all honesty, my survival rate wasn’t even that high to begin with. I’m just here for the thrill of adrenaline, not the cold chill of death.”

“…I’ll do my best to not put your life on the line.” An immediate eye roll was quickly followed by a hard backhand slap to Adrianna’s head.

Quickly tending to her wounded head, fighting through a smile with gritted teeth, “Ah, you’re such a great friend.”

“I know,” You smiled, eyes sparkling in triumph and playfully bopping her nose.

“What would I do without you?” The blonde girl narrowed her eyes as the head-stinging sensation disappeared.

“Save the semantics for later,”

Adrianna fought another snarky remark, “Wow, how thoughtful of you.” Sarcasm was that sentence. She made sure of it.

For sure, this quest was going to be an unforgettable experience.

──── ⭑ ☆ ⭑ ────

likes, comments, and reblogs are highly appreciated!

© asvterias, 2025. please do not copy, repost, or translate any of my works onto any other platforms without my permission.

[dumbass-duo-showdown]

DUMBASS DUO SHOWDOWN ROUND 3 BATTLE 2

JOSUKE HIGASHIKATA & OKUYASU NIJIMURA (JOSUYASU) FROM JOJO'S BIZARRE ADVENTURE VS SOKKA AND AANG FROM AVATAR: THE LAST AIRBENDER

PROPAGANDA

JOSUYASU

JOSUYASU PROPAGANDA

Josuke is fairly decent, but okuyasu, you know how in math, if you multiply a negative number with a positive one it is always negative, that is josuyasu for you. Josuke has 6 braincells and Okuyasu has -6734. Their first meeting was okuyasu trying to kill josuke, then he shows up at his house a few days later and goes "hey lets go to school! btw your mom is hot!" Josuke punches a plate of spaghetti because he thinks the chef is evil, they both fight a middle schooler who stole their cash. Okuyasu got the third most op ability in his part but he is too stupid (and kind) to realize it. Somehow they survive their entire part. They are thus far the second jojo and jobro duo to not lose each other. the second one? THEM IN AN ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE! (okay but okuyasu is swapped for koichi in that one, but still).

Josuke normally is pretty smart, but somewhat silly, but Okuyasu. Isn’t incredibly bright but he’s the best jojo character idc. Okuyasu brings out josukes stupid and then they are just besties and totally bouncing off each other’s stupid ideas. Idk what Okuyasu does to josukes brain but I’m here for it

I saw the post title and without reading anything else immediately went to submit them, only to go back and read the full post and realize they were included by default. They are THE dumbass duo. Ever. The worst protagonists for a detective story, but they dumbassed around so hard they somehow caught a genius serial killer. No matter who wins, they’ll always be the number 1 dumbasses in my heart.

they are the best of friends, which of course means they met by trying to kill each other.

They’re both so stupid. Like josuke isn’t that stupid on his own but he’s kinda dumb and when you put him with dumbass incarnate okuyasu they multiply each others’ stupidness. Together they are a menace.

JOSUKE AND OKUYASU FOR THE WIN BECAUSE THEY SPEND AN ENTIRE DAY TRYING TO FIGURE OUT WHETHER OR NOT A RANDOM ITALIAN WAS EVIL BECAUSE HIS PASTA WAS TOO GOOD

Okuyasu and Josuke share a braincell and they lose that braincell at least 5 times a day

The majority of Diamond is Unbreakable is those two getting themselves and their friends into absurd situations. There's no way the sportsboys can compete with discovering aliens are (maybe???) real and immediately trying to use the alien(??) to cheat at dice. Then they burned down someone's house

#josuyasu are DUmbass Incorporated and i love them#its literally canon that okuyasu has one of The Most Powerful Abilities In The Entire JJBA Universe#but is too dumb and good natured to put it to world ending use

this gif

GIF by hellzfire

Aang & Sokka

They are both very intelligent individually, but when put together they lose all of their braincells

they are very intelligent in their own right but loose all their braincells together

independently they are very intelligent and creative. aang is an incredible diplomat and quick on his feet. sokka is a literal inventor and war strategist. leave them alone in a room together and they get so into the bit that they end up giving each other minor head injuries or write a fake letter that they sign with a blind girl's name. they also attempt to sneak a lemur into a royal banquet under aang's hat.

[roseghoul26]

Part 4

Arthur Morgan x f!Reader

"'Do you love me?' You asked, voice barely louder than a whisper.

Arthur nodded, gazing at you like you hung the moon and the stars.

'Then say it. I promise you, nothing bad is gonna come from it.'"

Synopsis: A retelling of the mission "Blessed are the Peacemakers", where instead of Arthur getting kiddnapped, it's you.

Tags: fluff, friends to lovers, eventual smut, smut, torture, mentions of sexual assault, no actual SA, dutch is father figure, so is hosea, arthur morgan deserves everything, fem reader, afab!reader, she/her pronouns used for reader, not beta read

Author’s Note: this part is the smut part, with some story too. i struggled with this chapter cause i’ve only written smut like twice so here we go lmao.

next fic i’m thinking of doing javier or charles (loml), and i have different ideas for both. and i’ll def. write for arthur again, and feel free to send requests or ideas (or literally send whatever i love getting messages)

Taglist: @photo1030

part 1 ❉ part 2 ❉ part 3 ❉ part 4

And it was a long ride, done in silence as the two of you made it to the meetup place. The cowboy occasionally looked over his shoulder at you, but other than that there was little interaction. There was tension between the two of you that was on the cusp of snapping into a million pieces, but there was nothing you could do about it right now. Mustering what patience you had, and also pushing down your desires, you made your way to Emerald Ranch. 

Lenny arrived a short while after you and Arthur, sweaty and anxious, but thankfully alive. And he wasn’t followed, so you thanked the universe that luck was on your side that day. 

After meeting up, you’d sold the stolen goods to the fence, and with the combined cash you’d pick up, the three of you had a nice haul of about 750 dollars. After everyone received their cut, there was almost 400 dollars left to donate to camp, which you stuck in the box with a proud smile. Not bad for your first job back, you thought. 

Dutch seemed to think so too, complimenting you as you wrote in the ledger. “How we managed to survive those weeks without you, I’ll never know. Thank you, dear.”

You just shrugged. “Don’t mention it. And you can thank Arthur for keepin’ us afloat.”

Dutch didn’t say anything to that. Instead, he lit a match for his cigar, moving so his back was facing his tent as he smoked. Now facing you, you saw him in your peripherals observing you as you finished writing, letting the ink dry before closing the book. Not appreciating his staring, you questioned him with a look. 

“Take Arthur to Saint Denis to… look for leads. Yeah, go look for leads.”

“Huh? Right now?”

“That’s what I said, right? I’ve heard that the hotels ‘round there are brimming with opportunities. And take as much time as you need, if you catch my meanin’.” He gave you a wink, but you continued to stare at him like he grew a second head. “You’re smart, dear. You’ll figure it out. Now go, before I change my mind.” He dismissed you with a wave, staring out at the open water as you left.

“Oh… o-okay?” You were halfway to your tent when it dawned on you: Dutch was giving you permission to leave camp for a bit, which was convenient, to say the least. You turned to thank him, but he seemed lost in thought, so you saved it for later. “Make sure Lenny gets sent out too,” you still shouted out, hoping that Dutch heard you. 

Entering your tent, you found Arthur already there, which was no surprise. He had practically beelined there after you all arrived at camp, barely giving you a passing look. You hadn’t given it much thought at the time, but when you saw him hunched over as he sat on the edge of the bed, knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the cot, you immediately became concerned. Racing through your thoughts, you tried to remember if it seemed like he was in pain earlier. It wouldn’t be unlike him to get injured and then hide it. 

Rushing to his side, you were on your knees as you looked at him, scanning his body for any blood or obvious injury. When you found nothing, you looked into his eyes which you found closed. “Love? What’s wrong? Are you alright?” you asked, brushing back some of the hair that had fallen in his face, his hat discarded somewhere nearby. His cheeks were rosy too, you noticed.

When he opened his eyes, you were startled to find how dark they were, and he stared through you. “Shit, did you hit your head?” You moved to stand and examine his head further, but a gentle hand on your shoulder had you sinking back down to your knees. 

“I’m alright,” his voice was strained. Arthur didn’t provide any more details, and you heard him let out a huff of air when your hands rested on his knees, your face only a few inches away from them as you peered up at him. 

“Then what’s goin’ on, Arthur? You’re scaring me.” He placed one of his hands atop yours, fingers shaking slightly from the strain of gripping the cot. It tickled when he started dancing his fingers across the skin, but you kept your face still as you watched him. 

“Oh, princess. You’ve got no idea what you do to me, do you?” His voice was breathy, barely audible to you as his hand stilled. Finally, his eyes focused on yours, growing impossibly wider when he realized the position you were in. “Here,” he extended a palm up, offering you to put your hand in his. When you did, he kissed the back of it gently, before bringing it right above his heart and pressing it to his chest. Even through his shirt, which you had just noticed he had a few more top buttons unbuttoned, you could feel his heartbeat, which was beating like the speed of a hummingbird’s wings. 

Suddenly things started making a whole lot more sense with the dilated pupils, heavy breathing, and his sporadic heartbeat. Immediately your concern was replaced with something less selfless, a hungry need growing in you as you took in Arthur being in such a state, and all because of you.

“Since last night, I can’t stop thinkin’... and ever since the house it’s gotten worse. I can barely look at you without remembering the way you felt… and you’ve got me so damn turned on I can’t function.” His voice turned into a growl at the end, and you felt yourself pressing your thighs together, trying to ease the growing tension building between them from his confession. God, everything felt warm. 

Arthur didn’t miss the movement, as subtle as you tried to be. With a knowing grin, he pressed one last kiss to your hand before setting it back on his knee. “It took everythin’ in me to not take you right there in that house,” he said it so casually that you almost didn’t register what he said. Your grip on his legs tightened, and you found yourself sitting up straighter on your knees, now at chest level with him. 

“I would’ve let you,” you confessed, and Arthur moved closer to you, almost touching his lips with yours. Slowly, just like Arthur had done to you, you brought your hands up his thighs. You felt them tense under your touch, and you heard Arthur let out a little noise as your hands traveled up.

And up. 

And up until they rested at his belt, and you toyed with the loopholes as he started down at you. You could feel his breathing grow rapid, huffs of warm breath against your face. As you halted, you heard him groan. “You want me to touch you?” It was a redundant question, but you asked anyway. 

Arthur swallowed. “Yes.” He tried to press his lips against yours, but you kept your head far enough away. The hands on hips helped him stay put, and you relished in the fact that he could easily break free from your “hold”, but he didn’t.

“Then tell me. Tell me what you’ve been thinking of.”

You saw his blush extend past his face and down his chest. “That… it ain’t proper.”

You chuckled at that. “Since when do we care about what’s proper, Arthur?”

“I suppose we don’t,” he agreed, and he relaxed some. A few moments passed, then he was resting his head against yours. “You want me to tell you, or show you, princess?”

“Why not both?”

“Can’t do that.”

“Can’t, or won’t?” You pestered, a teasing grin on your face.

“I can’t, cause there ain’t gonna be much talkin’ when my head’s between your thighs.”

Whatever rebuttal you had died instantly in your throat. “Oh,” was all you were able to get out, your mouth growing suddenly dry at Arthur’s boldness, and that tension growing was starting to become unbearable. 

“Oh?” He mocked, laughing when you softly slapped him on his leg.

“Shuddup,” you rolled your eyes. Placing your hands back on his thighs, you felt the thick muscles there, built from years of a hard life and survival. “Tell me more,” you asked, moving your fingers closer and closer to the zipper of his jeans, looking down at your task at hand. Your face flushed when you saw the very noticeable bulge between his legs. 

“You never answered my question,” you felt rough, calloused fingers under your chin, which gently brought your gaze back up to Arthur’s. 

“Show me, Arthur.”

He nodded, a light smile on his lips. “Alright, princess. We’re gonna have to be quiet though.”

The whole reason why you came into the tent came back to you. “Well, maybe we don’t have to be. And I did say I was gettin’ you out of camp, and, well, Dutch has told me to bring you to Saint Denis to ‘search for leads’,” you said, hoping that Arthur got the hidden meaning quicker than you did. 

“Did he now?” You nodded. “Well, why didn’t you say so sooner. Don’t wanna waste any time now, do we?”

“In my defense, I thought you were in pain when I walked in. You jerk,” you bopped him again. Arthur just shook his head at you. 

Standing up, you supported your shaky legs by holding onto his shoulders. Despite being fully upright, you still held on, not really wanting to stop feeling him. You now stood above him, able to look down at him as he sat on the edge of the bed. Bringing your face lower, you kiss the space between his brows, then moving down the arch of nose and planting one on the tip. Then kissing the apples of each cheek in quick succession, you hovered just above his own, and you cupped his face in your hands. Your thumbs rubbed the stubble of his cheeks, and you couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel between your thighs. It wasn’t the first time you’d wondered, but you hoped that soon your questions would be answered. 

At last, your lips finally made contact with his. If there was one thing you would never tire of, it would be kissing Arthur. His lips were surprisingly soft, plush yet firm. Even though you had kissed him many times before, each time felt like the first, the overwhelming feeling of him taking over every sense, every nerve in your body buzzing with energy. Eagerly Arthur reciprocated, lips moving against you like they were created to fit with yours perfectly. Before you allowed the two of you to get swept away, kissing his forehead before stepping away.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” you grabbed his hat, affixing it atop your head with a wink as Arthur scoffed. “Let’s go to Saint Denis. I’ve heard the hotels there are… lucrative.”

Arthur stood now, rebuttoning up his shirt and attempting to make himself more put together. “I’m sure they are, princess.” He gestured you out of the tent, and the midday air did little to cool you off. 

Walking toward your horses, you saw Dutch talking with Lenny, before the older man patted him on the shoulder and walked away. Because Lenny was facing you, you gave him a questioning thumbs up, and he nodded in return. “Have a good night then, Lenny,” you called out. 

“You too, miss.” You saw his eyes flick behind you. “Both of you,” he added, before walking to a nearby campfire and plopping down, laughing lightly to himself. Reaching your mount, you patted TT on his neck, and then offered him a sugarcube from the saddle bag. He gladly ate the treat, snorting when he finished. 

You went to mount TT, but Arthur calling your name had you halting, only one foot in the stirrup as you turned over your shoulder to look at him. He stood beside his horse, holding the reins in his hands. “Ride with me?” he asked, smiling brightly when you made your way over to him. 

When you got close enough, after giving you a quick peck on the cheek he placed his hands on your hips. Easily lifting you on the rump of his horse, you immediately wrapped your arms around him when he mounted. Scooting forward as best you could while sitting sidesaddle, your chest pressed against his back, and you rest your head on his shoulder. His hat was kind of in the way, but you didn’t dare take it off. 

After ensuring that you were secure, he began moving, the camp quickly leaving both your visions shortly. He kept his horse at a fast pace, which was nowhere near as fast as you were going earlier, but you didn’t mind. You sighed in contentment, finally able to be alone with Arthur and place any worries about camp behind you, at least for a couple days. No petty squabbles, no jobs, no Pinkertons. Just you and Arthur. 

Arthur seemed to feel similarly, based on the way he relaxed in your grasp, leaning back slightly against you. Letting go of the reins in one hand, he rubbed your leg affectionately. His chest tumbled beneath your hands, and you realized he was talking, but you could barely hear him. 

When you asked him to repeat himself, Arthur turned his head to the side, making it easier to hear him, but it made you have to lift your own off his shoulder. “I said ‘thank you’.”

“Okay? You’re welcome?” you responded with uncertainty. 

“For gettin’ me out of camp like this, and despite how much I wanted to fight it, you knew I needed it.” 

“I mean, I wasn’t the one who got you out. You can thank Dutch for that.”

Arthur shook his head. “Sure, only after you presumably said somethin’ to him. And you’ve been the one trying to get me out all day! Don’t downplay yourself like that.” Arthur paused for a moment before continuing. “And you’ve always stuck your neck out for me like that, even before,” he gestured to your arms wrapped around him, “this. You’ve always seen me as more than the camp workhorse, more than a means to an end… more than myself… and I guess what I’m tryin’ to say is I appreciate it. For carin’ about me.” Arthur sighed. “I don’t really know what I’m saying…” he trailed off, refacing forward.

The sincerity in his voice had you heart breaking, but you also felt angry. Not at Arthur, but at the others, for using Arthur until he wore thin. Angry at the world that told him he wasn’t worthy enough to be loved, to be cared for. And you were angry at yourself, for holding off on telling him how much he mattered and meant to you. 

Grateful that he had his back to you so that he couldn’t see the tears in your eyes, you clung on tighter to him. Your voice cracked as you spoke, and you prayed that Arthur didn’t hear it. “You don’t gotta thank me for that. You deserve more, so much more, but I’ll give you all I have. I love you, Arthur Morgan, and I mean it. I’ll never stop sayin’ it until the day I die.”

Something wet hit your hand, and you realized Arthur was crying. Not sobbing, or making any audible noise; his shoulders didn’t shake either. But a few tears had left his eyes, one of them hitting you as they fell. “Arthur?” You asked, concerned.

Arthur, who clearly wasn’t expecting you to see his tears, quickly wiped them away, his hand no longer resting on your leg. “I… shit. Sorry.” You could tell he was embarrassed, trying to gloss over his emotions.

“I didn’t mean-”

“You ain’t done anything wrong,” Arthur reassured. “It’s just… I never thought I’d feel this way again, not after… not after Mary. I thought this part of me died a long time ago, and I just accepted that. I thought I’d never be loved again.” He chuckled humorlessly. “A part of me can’t believe this all ain’t a dream. I’ve wanted it so long that it seemed unobtainable.”

You knew about Mary, from the bits and pieces you learned from Hosea and Dutch. Arthur had never spoken about her with you, and you never asked, not wanting to push that boundary. Shamefully, you expected to feel some tinge of jealousy at the mention of his ex-lover, but you didn’t. You felt angry at her, for the way she broke his heart, and made him believe that he was unlovable. And strangely enough, you felt the tiniest bit of gratitude, but you weren’t quite sure who it was towards. All you could say is that you were thankful that you were now entrusted with Arthur’s heart, and you were going to cherish it. 

“Well,” you returned your head on his shoulder, “you’re very much awake, and I hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck with me now.”

“Thank God,” he responded. You couldn’t tell which part he was thankful for. 

Glancing around, you saw the outskirts of the town or Rhodes behind you, and the fence marking off the Gray’s property ahead of you, meaning you and Arthur were well on your way to Saint Denis. Another ten or so minutes of riding would get you there. Arthur had returned his grip on your thigh, and you settled in for the remainder of the ride. 

─•~❉᯽❉~•─

You weren’t a fan of Saint Denis, with the polluted air and dirty streets, and the equally filthy people. Although it was deemed to be the pinnacle of modern civilization, you had to disagree. What “great” city like this would leave parts of their population unhoused, unfed, uncared for. Or elect snakes in positions of power instead of people, whose only interest in mind was their own. Or how the joy of living seemed to be sucked out of the people, and how they’re now only soulless husks whose only purpose was to work and sleep. 

You voiced your thoughts to Arthur as you rode in, the metal archway proudly reading Saint Denis disappearing behind you. Passing by a group of well dressed individuals, Arthur nodded in agreement. 

“And to think, they wanna make everywhere like this.”

Arthur didn’t respond, just continuing to lead his horse though the streets. The sounds on hooves on the cobblestone was quite loud, but it was still barely audible over the sound of machinery and engines. People stared at you two as you passed, and their eyes lingered on you for longer than necessary. It occurred to you that you probably looked quite out of place because of the way you were dressed.

You wore skirts and dresses from time to time, and you liked wearing them, but they weren’t the practical option for days like today, where you’d need to quickly get on and off your horse, and would have to move quickly and silently. But every scrutinizing glance from well-dressed strangers had you regretting your choice of apparel. You told yourself that you shouldn’t care what these people thought of you, but the innate human desire to fit in and be accepted was overwhelming, especially now. 

“You’d think I’d grown a third arm, the way people are lookin’ at me,” you joked. 

“Don’t let ‘em get to you,” Arthur sent a deadly glare to one said person, whose face turned ghostly white as he scampered away. 

Chuckling, you kissed Arthur on his cheek. “My knight in shining armor,” you swooned, earning an eye roll from the cowboy. 

“Not like you need one.”

“Maybe not. But if my knight was you, I wouldn’t say no.”

He chuckled lightly. “What’s so funny?” you questioned, laughing slightly yourself. 

“Nothin’. Nothin’ at all, princess.” 

Turning the corner, you were met with with a rather crowded street with buildings towering over you. But directly ahead of you stood your destination, a large hotel that spanned three floors and the name of the establishment sprawled across the front in a language you didn’t recognize. 

As Arthur made his way to one of the many hitching posts in front, you felt your heartbeat begin to accelerate as you remembered why you were here. Anticipation had your body on edge, almost tense in the way you held on to him.

You were always impressed at the way Arthur seemed to notice every small detail, but right now you found yourself cursing that ability. He took note of the way your body went rigid, and he reassuringly squeezed your thigh. “You good?” You knew that he wasn’t just talking about right now; he was asking if you were still comfortable continuing what had started last night. 

“Yeah,” your voice was breathier than you would’ve liked. “I’m just… excited.” Sure, you were nervous as well, but it was easily alleviated by the trust you had in the man. 

“Good,” he smiled. Bringing his horse to the post, he quickly dismounted, securing his mount with a loose knot. Next, his hands met your waist as he helped you off. Your legs were slightly numb from the way you were sitting, but you stayed steady as your feet made contact with the ground. 

After double checking that his horse was secure, and had plenty of food and water nearby, he held out his hand, pulling you along when you took it. He held the door open for you, and the joke you were about to make fell short as you took in the interior of the hotel. 

Large, swooping archways cascaded above your head, the large vaulted ceilings filled with paintings and statues that observed you as you walked in, your hand still linked with his. It reminded you of something you'd heard about a while back, some chapel in Italy with painted ceilings like this. The walls were stark white, and no less decorated, paintings with golden frames facing you, and the marble floor beneath you clacked as your boots made contact. An ornate chandelier lit the room, located directly in the center of the entrance area. Its jewels glinted in the light, reflecting tiny rainbows across the walls.

It was breathtaking, to say the least. Eyes wide, you let yourself be pulled by Arthur as you took it all in. “Maybe it ain’t so bad they’re tryin’ to make cities like this, if this is what it turns into.” You laughed in disbelief. “It’s beautiful.”

Arthur seemed less impressed than you, eyes barely glancing over the various art pieces adorning the walls and ceiling. “Don’t go changin’ your mind now. This,” he waved his free hand around, “is how they get ya. This is all just a front.”

“You’re no fun,” you chidded, and your vision was suddenly obscured as Arthur flicked the hat down on your head. A very improper squawk left you as you quickly fixed the hat, glaring up at him with no real heat. 

“I’m plenty fun, princess.” By this point, you’d reached the front desk, where a very impatient looking man stood. As Arthur ordered a room, you continued to peer around, not paying much mind to the conversation. We weren’t only distracted by the art now, but your mind began to wander to the events that were sure to transpire shortly. You shamelessly ogled his body, now realizing he left his usual jacket back at camp, only down to his undershirt now. His well built shoulders caused the fabric to be pulled taught against his body, leaving little to the imagination. How would they feel under your touch? Would you grip on to them tight as he took you, letting you leave scratches down his back? Would they spread your legs apart as he-

Your thoughts were broken when you felt a tug at your arm, and you glanced at Arthur who regarded you with an amused glance. Based on the way he was grinning at you, you knew he knew where your mind had gone. “Bath?” He asked, and your mouth felt dry as you tried to respond.

“After.” The clerk couldn’t have done a worse job hiding his disdain, but you ignored him. Arthur took the room key from him, not even thanking him before heading up the staircase behind the front desk. 

It felt like forever, the walk to the room. You’ve had your share of encounters in the bedroom, but it had never felt like this. It never felt this right. 

It seemed like hours went by before Arthur was unlocking one of the rooms, letting go of your hand for the first time to get it open. Like the gentleman he was, he held the door open for you again.

The rooms were no less decorated, but once the original splendor wore off, you found yourself caring less and less. A large four poster canopy bed sat in the center of the large room, a plush fur carpet beneath it. The room was well lit, with a balcony on the right side that was allowing copious amounts of sunlight into the room. The window for the balcony was left open, and you found yourself quickly closing it, the curtains settling as the wind was cut off. A basin with water along with a few towels and rags occupied the leftmost side of the wall with the balcony, with a wooden dresser neighboring it. 

Now in the room, you took off your boots and socks, not wanting to track too much dirt across the carpet. Leaving them near the wardrobe, you made your way to the bed. The fur, which had to be some kind of large white bear, felt pleasant against your bare feet as you approached. The sheets felt even better than the carpet, rich silks flowing through your fingers like water. 

Sitting down at the foot of the bed, you dragged your hand across, and you made your way up one of the wood posts, the material sturdy and well polished. You wondered how much a room like this cost to rent for a night or two. Turning to ask Arthur, you found him at one of the nightstands that framed the bed, unholstering his gunbelt and placing it there, as well as taking off his own boots. 

When he felt your attention on him, he smiled warmly, leaning up against the post you were examining after reaching you. He had his hands on his hips, about where he would rest his hands if his gunbelt were there, looking at you with such fondness that you completely forgot the question you were going to ask. Staring up at him, any rational thought went out the window to your right; the only thing on your mind was him. He must’ve seen this change in your demeanor, pushing off the post and stopping now right in front of you.

“Show me, Arthur.” It came out less like a request and more like a demand. 

Arthur chuckled, a low yes ma’am leaving him before his lips were on yours. It wasn’t soft like you were expecting. The force in which he kissed you had you nearly landing flat on your back, but you caught yourself with one arm, the other finding purchase on the side of his face as you cupped it. Kissing you like you were the only thing keeping him alive, he leaned over you now, but the angle he was doing it was not the most comfortable, relying on only his core muscles to keep him upright and not crush you.

Breaking away, you took a gulp of air, laughing at the way Arthur chased after you, like he couldn’t bear to be without you for only a few seconds. Scooching back on the bed until your back was resting against the multitude of pillows available, you opened your arms up. Crawling up after you, Arthur sighed, content, when your touch returned, still holding him in one of your palms.

Wasting no time, he fervently resumed his kiss, teeth grazing your bottom lip gently. His hands tangled into your hair, his hat falling somewhere on the bed, but you were too engrossed to care. One of his knees slotted between your legs, the other resting by your hip. As the tension in you returned, you found yourself inadvertently grinding against his thigh, trying to find some sort of relief. Arthur groaned when he felt you begin to use him, his mouth going slack against yours. 

Moving from your mouth to your jaw, he pressed open mouth kisses as he went along. When you tried to move your head to follow him, you felt his grip in your hair tighten. Not enough to cause any pain, but it kept you still as he continued his exploration. You weren't able to do much but sit there, hips grinding against Arthur, but it wasn’t doing anything except get you more and more heated.

You expected to feel him start to leave hickies across your neck, especially when his mouth started trailing down your throat. But he didn’t, rather he was gentle with the soft skin, leaving no physical evidence that he was there. Before you could even comprehend what you were asking for, you were speaking, combing your fingers through Arthur’s hair like it was going to help convince him. “You can mark me, Arthur. Please. Let everyone know I’m taken.”

Your whispered pleas were not met on deaf ears, an almost painful sounding moan leaving the man as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His breath tickled your ear as he panted, his hands releasing your hair as they framed each side of your head. You thought he was going to turn the idea down, but you were elated when you felt his lips return to your neck, now sucking and biting as well. 

“Anythin’ for you, princess.” He sounded positively wrecked. Traveling down the column of your neck, you felt him leave marks, marks that you were certain were going to be dark purple by tonight.

“Fuck, yeah, you’re so good to me. My pretty boy,”  You cooed, nails scratching his scalp lightly. “Everyone back at camp is gonna see these marks; they’re gonna know what you did to me. They’re gonna know you fucked me so good.”

Arthur sat back on his heels, hair in disarray from your fingers. The sunlight filtering in caused the strands to become golden, like the color of the frames you saw downstairs. He looked almost heavenly in this light, the way the sun illuminated him. God, he looked beautiful. His blue eyes were nearly black with lust, and the normally stoic man seemed to be falling apart. “You- you can’t keep sayin’ things like that… then sayin’ I’m beautiful,” he murmured, running a hand down his face. 

So your thoughts weren’t as secret as you believed. “Why not?” You questioned, a teasing smirk on your face. “I’m only tellin’ the truth.”

“Truth or not, if you keep goin’ on like that, I’m ‘fraid this night’s gonna end quicker than either of us would like.” Glancing downward, you saw Arthur readjust himself. The bulge in his pants looked uncomfortable, painfully even. With a sympathetic noise, you reached for the zipper on his pants, ready to alleviate him. 

You were surprised when he stopped your hand, his fingers wrapping gently around your wrist. “Next time. I… I need to taste you, princess.”

“Is that what you were thinkin’ about earlier?” You tried to sound unbothered, knowing damn well that you were practically throbbing at the idea of him going down on you. The desperation in his voice added fuel to the fire in you, finding yourself growing increasingly wetter at each thing coming from his mouth. 

“One of many things,” he confessed. “Is that a yes?”

“Arthur, if you don’t get your ass-” your comment was cut short by his mouth on yours. It didn’t last long, before he was returning to where he left off on your neck. This time, however, you felt his hands work at your belt, throwing it somewhere behind him when he got it unlooped from your pants, which were next to go. It took a little bit longer, but eventually they were tossed behind as well, leaving you in only your undergarments from the waist down.

You went to start unbuttoning the shirt you wore, but Arthur beat you to it, his dexterous fingers quickly undoing the buttons. He rested his head against yours, eyes looking down as we worked, grumbling obscenities when one of the buttons was stubborn. Eventually it was off as well, the shirt and the bandana adding to the growing pile on the floor. “I thought you liked me in your clothes,” you teased. 

“I think I like you better without any. Now,” he nudged your arms, “up.” You complied, lifting them to allow Arthur to slip your chemise up and off your body, and, like the other articles, found a new home on the floor of the hotel. The cold air on your bare chest caused you to gasp, goosebumps erupting across your skin. All of that was forgotten when you saw Arthur, the heat in his gaze easily melting the chill of the air. 

He sat back on his heels again, taking in your almost entirely exposed body, the only remaining thing on your body being your drawers. Letting out an appreciative noise that sounded almost like a purr, he rested his hands on your hips, squeezing lightly at the flesh there. Bringing his hands up, more and more goosebumps formed following his path, like your body was mapping out the way he touched you.

“God, you’re so gorgeous, princess. Even more so than I imagined.”

“You imagine me naked a lot, Arthur?”

He was right below your breasts now, running his fingers right below where you wanted him to touch. “You already know the answer to that.”

“For how long?”

Arthur stilled at this, a flash of panic cutting through his lustful eyes for a split second. “You want the truth, or a lie that would make me less of a creep?”

Well, now you were curious. Raising a brow, the man on his knees in front of you gave out an exasperated sigh, no longer looking you in the eye as he responded. “Roughly two years ago. I…” he trailed off, moving to rub the back of his neck, but you caught his hand in yours, forcing his eyes back on you. 

You laughed, mostly at Arthur’s expense, but also at how long you firmly believed that your attraction was one-sided. “You silly cowboy,” you urged him back by tugging his arm, and he rested on his forearms, caging you in. “I’d be a liar if I said I hadn’t been doin’ the same.”

He hovered a few inches above you, and you could feel the heat emanating from his body. “I’ll have to see that sometime,” he spoke low in your ear. “You spread open, touchin’ yourself to the thought of me.” He paused for a second. “But that’ll have to wait. You,” he tugged at the lobe of your ear with his teeth, “keep distracting me. Let me get back to work.”

Sitting back up, he returned his hands to your body, still keeping away from where you wanted, just taking you in with his eyes. When you tried to push your chest up into his hands, he gave you a disapproving frown before pushing you back down. “No one ever teach ya patience, princess?” The absence of his body heat caused you to shiver, your nipples pebbling from the cold and arousal. 

His hands brushed over the scars across your body, his touch lingering on the one on your left shoulder, the one the O’Driscolls gave you over a month ago. You didn’t have time to feel self conscious before his lips were pressing light kisses on top of it, murmuring soft words under his breath. Finally, you felt his hands cup your breasts, kneading the mounds in his hands, his mouth leaving marks as it joined his hands in his touch. His hands did feel even better without a shirt blocking them, the callous of his fingers deliciously rough against the soft skin

He didn’t stay there long, his own patience being worn thin. He moved down your body now, pepper kisses across the various marks on your body. His fingers pulled at the strings of your drawers, quickly unlacing the bow there. Lifting up your hips to help him, he pulled them off, and they joined the pile. Finally, you were completely bare to him, and you heard him groan appreciatively. Trailing his mouth down your body, he halted just below your belly button, his hands resting on your thighs. 

He looked up, and his smirk was downright sinful as he lifted one of your legs across his shoulder, further exposing yourself to him. One hand held your hip, the other lying unused by his side. Your hands clutched uselessly at the pillows supporting you, gripping even harder when you felt him part your folds with fingers. His eyes were fully locked onto your cunt now, letting out a whistle when he saw how obviously wet you were. “This all for me, princess?” he asked, peppering kisses along the inside of your thighs. 

“Just for you. It’s only ever you.” You panted.

You felt him smile. “Good.” He removed his hand, and you almost let out a small whine at the loss of contact. You were quickly silenced when you felt those same fingers sweep through you, gathering your arousal on them. The digits were soaked, but you had little time to feel embarrassed before he was running his tongue up them, tasting you. You let out a noise, somewhere between his name and a moan as Arthur cleaned his fingers, his eyes closed as he savored the taste.

“Gonna get me addicted, princess,” he groaned, his fingers leaving his mouth and resting on the inside of your thigh, keeping your legs propped open. “But I bet ya taste better right from the source.” You felt him place one last kiss on your thigh before his mouth was on your cunt, his tongue following the same path as his fingers through you. Going bottom to top, it was a broad sweep of his tongue, not targeting anything specific but you still felt your hips buck against his face when he grazed your clit. 

The hand on your hip moved, resting across your lap to keep you still as he passed his tongue through again, and again. “Easy, girl,” he rumbled, and you would’ve been offended that he was talking to you like a horse if he wasn’t currently buried between your legs. Instead, you threw your head back, the soft feather pillows preventing you from smacking the headboard. Your grip moved from said pillows, moving to burrow into Arthur’s hair. Your fingers went to weave between the strands, but you second-guessed your decision, especially when he started focusing his tongue on your clit. 

You tried to retract your hand, but Arthur caught it no longer holding your legs open. He brought it back to his head, and you gripped on to his hair. Arthur let out a pleased groan at that, and it seemed to spur him on more, lapping at you like he was dying of thirst. Every flick of his tongue sent jolts through your body, cries and whimpers of his name leaving your lips every time. You knew he had a silver tongue, but you never expected to be falling apart on it. 

Because he was no longer holding you open, your thighs closed around his head with both legs on his shoulders, but you were too lost in your pleasure to notice. Now you were able to feel his beard against the sensitive skin, feeling better than you’d imagined. It would probably be chaffed and irritated in the morning, but every time you felt it you’d remember the way Arthur was devouring you. 

You were so caught up on that new sensation that you hadn’t noticed the newly freed hand move between your legs, a gasp leaving your lips when you felt him pressed against your entrance. He stopped at your reaction, but he continued to use his mouth, the tension in you growing and growing at each flick.

When you provided no protest, he continued, slowly pressing his finger into you. It didn’t take much effort, your arousal helping to ease the digit in with little resistance, and within moments he was knuckle-deep. He was big, far bigger than your fingers, and you let out a small noise at the stretch. “You’re doing so good,” Arthur praised, his finger not moving to let you adjust. “My good girl.” His words were muffled, tongue still pleasuring you between words, but you heard them loud and clear. 

You weren’t quite sure why that got a reaction out of you, but a very audible moan left you, and you clenched around Arthur’s finger, pulling even harder at his hair. He let out a surprised groan that turned into a chuckle as he felt you, and you could hear him smirk. “You taste so good, and you’re so tight,” He bent the digit inside you, almost in a beckoning motion, which caused you to see stars. “My good girl’s gonna cum for me, right? Let me feel you, princess.”

You were close, that was certain. That tension, the one deep inside you that had been begging to be released since what seemed like forever, was about to break. You just needed one more push. 

He started slowly pistoning the finger in and out of you, at least as best he could with your thighs in the way. Before long, he was adding a second finger, the additional stretch just about making you finish right there. You tried to convey that to Arthur, but it was coming out as an incoherent ramble. “Arthur… I- I’m… please…”

“I know, princess.” He kept at the same pace, drawing your pleasure out of you. The thing that broke you was seeing Arthur rocking his hips against the bed as he laid on his stomach, trying to find some relief. With a loud wail of his name, you came, trying and failing to thrust against his face as he pinned you down, fingers flexing against your hip bone. It felt like every nerve in your body was alive, buzzing with energy as pleasure wracked your body, and your eyes shut on instinct, which seemed to heighten the sensations you were feeling. Arthur removed his fingers from you, but he kept his tongue moving, obscene noises leaving him as he worked you through your orgasm. 

Boneless, your thighs went lax against his head, hands slumping to the sides of the bed, releasing the man from your death grip. But he either didn’t notice or didn’t care, still drinking you in. But you were starting to feel overstimulated, and you let out a small noise of complaint, which got Arthur to stop. He tried to hide a proud smile as he came back up, but you saw the corners of his mouth were raised slightly as he lay on his side next to you, letting you take a moment to recuperate. 

You took a few moments to just breathe, regaining control over your body and heart rate. Turning your head to face him, you slowly opened your eyes, and you nearly immediately shut them when you saw your arousal absolutely soaking his face. “I-,” if you weren’t flushed before, you sure were now.

Now Arthur was grinning, realizing what you were looking at. He wiped his mouth like he just finished a delicious meal. “I could do that all day.” He brushed his fingers across your body, not demanding anything, but just feeling you. “You doin’ alright?” 

You scoffed. “You’re askin’ me that? I nearly killed you with my thighs!”

“I told you I don’t mind if it hurts. And it’d’ve been a hell of a way to die,” he joked, and you slapped him lightly on the chest, which, much to your disappointment, was still covered with a shirt. You noticed, as your gaze went south, that he was still fully clothed, and you found yourself frowning at that.

“What’s wrong?” Arthur asked, confusion and worry now etched on his face, and he began to retract his hand slowly.

“You’re wearin’ too many clothes,” you whined, tugging at Arthur’s shirt.

He sighed in relief. “Whatever my good girl wants,” he chuckled, even more so when your breathing hitched. He got up, standing right next to the side of the bed. He slowly began unbuttoning his shirt, and you sat on your heels in front of him, waiting. 

When you deemed that he was taking too long, you started untucking his shirt, working the buttons at the bottom. “Impatient?”

“I’ve waited two fuckin’ years, Arthur.” You hadn’t meant to sound angry, but your patience was truly wearing thin. You didn’t feel too bad when he started unbuttoning faster, the article off before you realized, joining the pile beside him. His pants were off shortly thereafter, the belt still in them hitting the ground with a clang, and he kicked them off his feet. 

You moved back to let Arthur get back in the bed, and he sat where you were minutes prior, back against the pillows and headboard. Straddling his waist, your hands immediately started roaming the newly exposed skin, his muscles twitching under your touch. He truly was beautiful, almost aggravatingly so. He was well built, strong muscles protected by a healthy layer of fat that made him even bigger. 

Various scars and marks littered his body, all proof of surviving a hard life; you kissed each one you saw. Your fingers ran across his abs, the muscles tensing as you went along. You were surprised to find that his entire body was covered in hair, not just his arms and legs, but you definitely weren’t complaining, the pure masculinity from it all the more attractive. 

Speaking of masculinity, an experimental roll of your hips against Arthur’s had the man groaning, head rolling back slightly. But it also let you know that he wasn’t just well built, but well endowed. Quite endowed, if you were being honest.

After giving him a quick kiss, you moved back until you were more on his knees, and you tugged at the waistband of his undergarments. Like you, he lifted his hips up, and you quickly discarded it behind you. 

One look and you knew you were in for a long night. He was long, yes, but thick as well, able to stretch you out in all the right places. You tried to wrap your hand around the base of him, your fingers nowhere close to reaching each other. Slowly, you began to pump him, and he let out a strangled moan. His tip was red and leaking, and you wanted nothing more than to lean forward and lick it. And you tried to, at least, but he redirected you with his fingers around your jaw, bringing his lips crashing against yours. 

The kiss was filthy, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like he owned it. The fingers on your jaw kept your mouth open, a moan leaving you when you tasted yourself on him. He pulled back, eyes shutting when you continued to move your hand up and down his length. He stilled you by grabbing your wrist, pulling you back up so that you were straddling his waist again. 

“Y’feel amazin’, princess, I just wanna last.” He let go of you, settling his hands on your waist instead. “You ready?” 

“Please, Arthur.” One hand gripped his bicep, the other on his shoulder. “I need you.”

“And you’ll have me. Just don’t wanna see you hurt.” You felt his hand creep up your front, hovering just in front of your face, and his pointer and middle fingers brushed your bottom lip. “Suck,” he instructed, digits pressing gently against the seam of your lips. You parted your lips, enthusiastically taking them into your mouth, running your tongue alongside the bottom of them. Your eyes never left his, and you felt him twitch beneath you as you bobbed your head up and down. “Atta girl,” he praised, “get ‘em nice and wet for me.”

You’re sure you were soaking his lap at this point, but you didn’t care. Working your tongue along the knuckles, his hand quickly became covered in your drool. With a pop, his fingers left your mouth, leaving you panting around nothing. You watched, transfixed, as Arthur brought his hand to his cock, slowly stroking himself as he coated his length. He let out a soft gasp, eyes rolling to the back of his head, and the delicious noise had you clenching around nothing.

After a few passes, he stilled at the base, holding himself upright. Urging you to get up on your knees, you scooted until you were just hovering above him. His tip nudged your entrance, and you both let out similar moans as you slowly sunk down on his length. Your fingers dug into the muscles of his bicep, most likely leaving crescent-shaped marks in their wake. 

“That’s it. Nice and slow now…” he spoke, voice strained and clipped. The hand on your waist was vice-like, Arthur using every ounce of restraint in his body to not just sink you down on to him. 

Even though Arthur had done some prep with his fingers, and your mixed arousal and spit helped to ease things along, the stretch still burned. You rocked up and down, slowly taking more and more of him in you. Small noises left your lips as you worked yourself down, feeling every ridge of him in you, and your face buried into his neck. “Relax,” Arthur murmured, the hand on your hip rubbing reassuringly on your back. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“Arthur…” you moaned, your legs beginning to shake at the exertion.

“I know, princess. You’re doin’ so well. Just a lil’ bit more.” He kissed the top of your head, which would’ve been more wholesome outside the current circumstance. 

It took a little bit of you moving up and down him, working yourself open until you were able to take him completely. Eventually, your hips were flush with his, and your head rolling back as you finally felt him fully sheathed in you. You’d never felt so full before, his cock reaching places you’d hadn’t realized existed. 

When you leaned back, it puffed your chest in his face, and his mouth was on you in seconds, lapping and sucking and kneading at the soft flesh there. “Oh, Arthur.” Your hands were in his hair, keeping him close as he lavished your breasts. “You feel so good.”

Not stopping for a second, you heard him something, and the tone was almost proud, but it was hard to tell over the blood rushing in your ears. As you let yourself get used to him, rocking up and down him slowly, you moved your head to the side to let him bring his mouth up your neck, and you saw something brown out of the corner of your eyes. Turning even further, you saw Arthur’s hat a few feet behind you, and a wicked idea crossed your mind. 

It took a bit of reaching to get the hat, causing you to pull yourself away from Arthur’s mouth. He let out a noise of complaint, hands trying to bring you back until he realized what you were reaching for. “Princess…” his usually gravelly voice was even more so, the word barely audible through his clenched teeth. 

“What?” You flashed him an innocent smile. Clutching his hat in your hand, you slowly rode him, sinking up and down his cock. You tried to seem unaffected, but you couldn’t stop the whimper that you let out. 

You secured it on your head, clenching around him when you heard the almost predatory growl that left him. He was losing the battle with his restraint, and you wanted nothing more than to see him succumb to his desire. Running your fingers though the hair on his pecs, you brought your lips close to his, only a hair’s width away from connecting. “Princess.” It was more of a warning than anything, and you felt him let out a huff of air.

“What’s the matter?” You teased. 

“Nothin’,” you watched his eyes flick down to your entrance, watching his cock disappear into you. You would’ve believed that he was content with you just using him for your pleasure, enjoying the feeling of your walls fluttering around him, but you’d seen the look in his eye when you put his hat on, and felt the way his fingers tightened on you as he fought to not to just take you as he pleased. 

You wanted to see him lose the control he fought so hard to maintain. 

“Really? Cause you seem tense, cowboy. Like you’re holdin’ back.” You smiled gently, rubbing his chest reassuringly. 

“Dunno what you mean,” he tried to play dumb, looking away from you as he spoke.

You brought his gaze back to yours, caressing the side of his face as you did so. “I don’t want you to.”

It took a few moments for Arthur to respond, eyes not leaving yours as you continued to ride him. “Are you sure, princess? I…” he exhaled shakily, “It might hurt-”

“I know what I want, Arthur. You’re not the only one who likes it a little rough.” You brushed your lips over his, and you could tell he was still fighting himself. “I wanna feel you for days after this, Arthur. I wanna be able to feel you whenever I walk, every ache I feel remindin’ me of when you absolutely ruined me. I need you to ruin me, Arthur. Please, fuck me-”

Your rambling was cut short when he smashed his lips against yours, muffling your noises as he effortlessly lifted you off his cock before slamming you back down. He set a brutal pace, hips snapping up as he fucked up into you. The kiss didn’t last long, your head rolling back again, hat barely staying on your head as he took you as he pleased.

The sound of your collective moans filled the air, the sound of skin-on-skin muffled by your voice. “Yes, Arthur!” you cried out, and you felt yourself working up to another climax, already worked up from riding him previously. You tried to praise him some more, but you words came out garbled and incoherent, too overwhelmed with what he was doing to be able to develop a sentence. 

“What’s that, princess?” you could hear him smirk. 

You tried to respond, but all you could let out was a loud moan. You were just happy you weren’t back at camp, or else you’d never be able to look anyone in the eye ever again. 

You heard him moan out your name. “You feel so good, you know that?” He panted. “Like you were made for me to ruin.”

You let out another cry of his name, growing closer and closer to your release. “That’s right, let everyone know who’s fucking this pretty cunt so well.”

In the back of your mind, you knew that Arthur was going to be embarrassed as hell afterwards, saying stuff like this. But the filthy words coming from his lips had you gasping, a jolt of arousal shooting through your body. You said his name like a mantra, spurring him on even more. “Arthur, I’m- I’m so close,” you moaned.

“Fuck, me too, princess,” he didn’t slow down his pace, and you felt him bring his fingers to your clit, caressing the bundle of nerves. “C’mon then, cum for me.”

The added stimulation from his fingers, plus the sharp drag of his cock across your walls was enough to make you cum, his hat finally falling off as your head was thrown back in pleasure. This one was much more intense than the the last one, and you swore you blacked out for a second. 

You probably did blackout, because you hadn’t realized you were on your back until a few moments later, Arthur’s hips snapping into you as he chased his own release. He pulled out suddenly, and you felt yourself pulse around nothing, feeling empty at the lack of him. Arthur was on his knees above you, pumping himself quickly as he came all over your chest, hot ropes of cum hitting your stomach and breasts.

He sagged forward once he finished, hands on either side of your body as he laid there catching his breath, being mindful to not crush you. You ran your nails along his scalp, the man shuddering under your touch. A few moments passed, both of you just basking in the afterglow of your release. The room wasn’t cold anymore, the heat generated from the both of you causing a sheen of sweat to cover your bodies. A bath definitely sounded good right now, but you didn’t want to get up, body pleasantly sore and exhausted. 

You felt Arthur sit back up, getting off the bed entirely. You watched him grab one of the rags from the water basin, pouring a bit of water on it before returning to you. You let out a small hiss as the cold water made contact with your skin, Arthur apologizing as he cleaned you up. His touch was light, reverent, his eyes filled with an emotion you weren’t able to place as he wiped down your body. As Arthur walked away, wiping down himself as well, you situated yourself under the covers, the silk feeling wonderful against your skin as you nuzzled into the pillows.

Arthur joined you shortly, the bed shifting under his weight as he joined you under the covers. You watched him open his arms for you, and you gladly let yourself be wrapped up in them, your chests pressed together, and you felt him press a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You alright?” 

Smiling, you looked up at him. “I’m amazin’,” your voice was scratchy. “Just sore. And don’t you dare apologize,” you glared at him when he opened his mouth to do just that. 

“We can get you a bath later, if you’d like.”

“As long as you join me.”

You felt Arthur chuckle, his chest rumbling against yours, kissing you now on the forehead. “Whatever you want.”

Sighing contentedly, you stared at Arthur, who had now closed his eyes, his tiredness now making itself known. You were too busy scanning his features that you hadn’t noticed him cracking an eye open, raising a brow quizzically at you. “What?”

“You’re very beautiful, Arthur.”

You watched him stammer for a second, the bright red flush returning to his face from minutes prior. “It’d be pointless to disagree with you, wouldn’t it, princess?”

“Yup,” you giggled. The two of you sat in comfortable silence after that, until a question you’d been meaning for a while came back to you at that moment. “Why’d you call me that?”

“Call ya what?”

“Princess. I thought we already established that I ain’t one.”

“You want me to stop?” 

You shook your head. “You better not. I like it. I’m just curious why you use it.”

“To be completely honest, I ain’t quite sure why either,” he chuckled. “It started as a bit of a joke, before we became serious. But I liked the way you reacted to it, so I kept callin’ you it just to see your reaction. I kept sayin’ it after because you deserve to be called somethin’ unique, somethin’ that’s special to us.”

“Earlier, you said I was something’ better than a princess. What’s that?”

“It’s cheesy,” he tried to avoid the question, but you gave him a pointed look. Sighing, he relented. “You’re, well, you. You’re an outlaw, a gunslinger, a survivor. You’re a confidant, a friend, a leader. You’re my girl, my angel, the best thing that has ever happened to me. All things that are infinitely better than some royal title.” He shrugged. “And sure, maybe you ain’t a princess, but you deserve to be treated like one. I guess callin’ you that, it’s a constant reminder for me to treat you like the incredible person you are, and to not take your love for granted.” 

You held back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes. “You’re oddly poetic at times.”

“I told ya it was cheesy,” he grumbled, the bashful smile on his face dropping when he saw the tears in your eyes. “Shit, it wasn’t that bad, was it?”

Despite the single tear rolling down your face, you laughed. “I love you so much, Arthur Morgan.”

He said your name slowly, wiping away the tear with the pad of his thumb. “I love you too.” You tried to smile at him, but a yawn overtook you, causing Arthur to laugh lightly. “Let’s get some rest. I’ll be right here.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.”