#antolcgias ( reynold argent. )

[ratherbewild]

❝ we’re gonna have to keep ice on that. ❞ (reyn for bash)

caring memes. 

BASH WINCES AWAY FROM REYNOLD’S TOUCH and takes the ice pack from his hands, braces himself with a controlled breath before he presses it back against his   s w e l l i n g   cheekbone. 

    “ I GOT IT, ”   he rasps.  rests his elbows on his knees and fixes his one good eye on reynold.  looks like he fared better, but he’s just as weary.  the compound is finally quiet and the exhaustion is hitting   e v e r y o n e   like bricks.   “ any idea who’s responsible yet? ”

he assumes not.  hasn’t heard the violent roar of tegan’s bike kicking in yet, and they’d have to   s e d a t e   her to keep her from hunting them down as soon as there’s someone to blame.  but he has to ask. 

     “ was it hunters?  another pack? ”

the look in reynold’s eyes   c o n f i r m s   his suspicions long before the tense shrug of his shoulders does, and bash sighs.  nods, clenches his jaw.  

they’ll find out, eventually.  and they’ll make them pay.

[suitedblue]

 ❛  some men don’t know they’re hungry— until they eat  ❜ | reynold to teddy | not here.

CONFUSION FILTERS ACROSS HIS FACE AS IT BREAKS HIS CONCENTRATION. Frowning, Teddy glances up, perhaps half expecting that Reynold has brought with him a cheese platter or a whole spread. He scratches at his jaw, adjusting his glasses so that they sit back comfortably on the bridge of his nose as he leans back, exhaling as shoulders seem to lose tension once the other had entered the room.

                  ❝ -- are you trying to be prophetic with some ‘ a window is not just a window ’ theory, or are you really just saying that you’re hungry? ❞  Lips spread into a contented smile, arching a brow at Reynold over his glasses.

                ❝ You do realise that this would all go quite a bit faster if you didn’t go for a walk every fifteen minutes, Reyn? ❞ Loosens his tie as Teddy stretches, rolling his neck. ❝ So? ❞ He asks, leaning back in his chair as he balances on the back two legs. ❝ Are you saying it’s time for a dinner break, or we’re being too ambitious? ❞

@antolcgias​ | REYNOLD ARGENT.

[riotkissed-archive]

  -ˏˋ  @antolcgias​  SAID  :  🎰 is it too late for this ?

001.         QUINN FABRAY   +   THE ARGENT SIBLINGS   :    Vampire slayer meet werewolf hunters.   Quinn had always been told that her fate was something she’d have to face alone ,   but when she meets Allison Argent ,   she wonders if relinquishing the life of a normal teenage girl in order to save the universe is worth it if she’s not so special after all.     But dire times call for desperate measures ,    and Quinn finds herself gearing up with the Argents to investigate werewolf activity on the outskirts of Lima , Ohio  ––   only to discover that perhaps not all monsters are evil. 

002.        BRIDGET VREELAND   +   KEYLETH WARNER   :    Apollo’s daughter meets the driad.   After the love of her life dies ,   Bridget tries to pledge her allegiance to The Hunters of Artemis ,   only for Artemis to turn her away ,   claiming that she is too love-struck to remain truly loyal to Artemis and Artemis alone.    To prove her loyalty ,   Bridget begs for the Goddess to give her a quest.    On her journey ,   Bridget encounters Keyleth ,   who agrees to help her.

003.        KADY ORLOFF DIAZ   +   ALLISON ARGENT   :    The dealer and the mob boss’s daughter.     Kady’s mother was a desperate and sloppy woman   ––    so when she accidentally got entangled in Argent Family Business ,   it barely came as a surprise.    But true to form ,    Hannah Orloff fucked up ,   and in exchange for her life ,    Kady must join the business to clean her messes.    A couple years later ,    Kady yearns for freedom.     And Allison ,   keenly aware of Kady’s stealth and skill ,    propositions her to help take down the Argent family. 

004.        FORTY QUINN   +   ZORAIDA MONTEMOINO   :    Honestly I think Forty is a ridiculous little rich boy and it would be amusing for him to be recently turned and without a pack and stumble across Zoraida.

005.        BRIDGET VREELAND   +   REYNOLD ARGENT   :    Not gonna lie ,   just want to write my Gryffindor chaser cutie to annoy him. 

[coperas]

❝ A world without agencies, a world without spies, a world without secrets. ❞ Reynold Argent

SPIES ARE FOREVER.        ┊ @antolcgias​  ┊

                   HIS EARS PRICK UP ,  and eyebrows crease into pensive wrinkles. The description - or promise ? - sounds far too good to be true ;   much like communist dreams he’s read about.   Even in a world without secrets, Morse, suspicious as he can be, would believe there’d be more to a person than just their surface. As is undoubtedly the case with the man before him who just shared the utterance.

 “  An unachievable utopia, I imagine. ”  Not to suggest that Morse believes in achievable utopias, oh no – his view of the human world is far too pessimistic for that.  “ I doubt it would be as ideal as it sounds. ”

[strongofheart]

@luridtruths asked:   five times saved - srs   ( cc: @antolcgias ) TW: strong violence, injury, blood, swords, guns, war, executions.

ONE.

HIS JOB IS A DANGEROUS ONE. To look lawless men in the eye and tell them there are consequences for their actions is to face all manner of violence, whether they choose to throw punches or pull pistols. He handles it, because someone has to. Because he loves those girls like they’re his family, and the pirates need to learn he will not allow harm to come to them.

He handles it  —   until one man gets the upper hand, sends half-full tankards flying as he slams Sam into a table and drives his ring-clad fist into his face. Until that hand is caught midair and yanked behind him, twisted until he cries out in agony, further and further and further until there’s a sickening CRACK beneath the skin. 

The man is dragged out by her men and there she stands, beautiful and terrifying, an expression of angry disgust giving way to barely-concealed concern as she steps into Sam’s light and touches his bloodied face. 

“ Thanks for the save, ” he croaks, that boyish smile shining through the pain. 

She scoffs. 

TWO. 

HE SAVES THEM FROM EACH OTHER, the first time Captain Hastings sees Captain Argent slipping out of Sam’s room. They come to blows out in the street, each staking their claim to his bed   —   they’ll share him with anyone   ( a n y o n e )   else, but not each other   —   and Sam has to barge into their space before swords are drawn. One hand flat on Argent’s chest, the other stretched to keep Hastings at bay. 

He is prey, standing unarmed and barely dressed between two hungry lions, but his voice alone   —   the stern, bold, “ Neither of you own me. Neither of you came to me out of any desire to fuck each other over. This is a pointless fucking fight, and I don’t want to see it. ”   —   gets them to loosen their grips on the hilts of their swords. 

They will have this fight another day, no doubt. Their paranoia will convince them Sam has whispered all their secrets to the other, that the other planned for as much all along. But for tonight, the fight is quelled. Argent is sent on his way and Hastings is guided upstairs. 

He has a power over them they might not have fully realised yet.

THREE. 

THERE’S BARELY A WARNING WHEN THE ENGLISH INVADE   —   a matter of a few days’ headstart when they would need   w e e k s   to prepare Nassau for a battle it’d stand a chance in. Argent bursts into Sam’s room with even less warning, and greets him not with a hello but with a plan:   “ I’ve secured you and the girls safe passage off the island. The boat leaves at dawn so pack your things, get the girls ready. ” 

Hastings is minutes behind with a similar proposal before Sam has even had a chance to process the first. There’s a fiery tension when the captains make eye contact, hands hovering over their weapons, but they seem to reach a silent truce. There’s no time for in-fighting with war on the horizon. Not with Sam’s life at risk. Perhaps the only thing they’ve ever agreed on is their furious refusal when Sam suggests he stays to join the fight.

Before dawn, they both visit again to have him escorted to the ship. They kiss him in the shadows with only each other as witness, and they stand side-by-side on the beach   —   a fragile, fledgling understanding beginning to build between them   —   to watch Sam ferried to safety with the rising sun.

FOUR.

THE WAR FOR NASSAU’S LAND is long, bloody, and not remotely in the pirates’ favour. The first battle sees their numbers slain in half, both in men and ships, and victory feels like little more than a fantasy. But Argent is hopeful. To a fault, perhaps, but Hastings is there to reign in his more outlandish ideas, to provide the tactical realism the men need to get on board with the bold plans they have to leap into.

The latest involves taking an English ship. A feat, given their numbers, but Argent’s plan gives them the element of surprise   —   the initial ambush is successful, and it helps their chances, though the battle is no less brutal once it’s underway. The clashing of swords across the deck is near deafening and the scent of blood is soon thick in the air. 

It’s thick underfoot, too, and it is almost Hastings’ downfall: her boot slips in a puddle and sends her flying onto her back, winded and disorientated as the soldier she’d been sparring LOOMS above her with a gleeful grin. But before she can blink, the soldier is impaled on a sword, kicked to the ground to reveal perhaps the last face she’d ever want to see save her. 

“ You’re welcome, ” Argent says with a smirk, reaching out a hand to help her up. 

She reaches instead for a nearby body, pulls a dagger from its abdomen and sends it whizzing past him, straight into the chest of a soldier with his pistol aimed at Argent. 

Argent huffs.

“ You truly couldn’t stand to be in my debt for even a second, could you? ”

There’s a spark when their eyes meet.

FIVE. 

HE’S TO BE GIVEN A FAIR TRIAL, the messenger says, but they all know that means nothing. In the wake of such a revolt, England is more desperate than ever to reclaim the narrative. The trial will last all of an hour and he’ll be executed immediately as a symbol of their strength, a message to all pirates that this is the fate that awaits them. 

Sam’s knees go weak with the news. Scared eyes find Spencer’s, a fragile hoarse “ Reynold… ” getting caught in his throat with all his grief. 

Her hand settles over his. She holds his gaze with such a fierce certainty that it manages to ground him, even when her words are so grand. “ We’re going to save him. They will not win today. ” 

She keeps her promise.

[strongofheart]

an insomnia-induced drabble for @antolcgias & @luridtruths​ ✌ 

The night is quiet. The patrons downstairs have either shacked up or filtered off back to their boats in search of sleep, their bellies full of rum and their needs sated, leaving nothing but the gentle sound of the ocean waves to accompany Sam and Reynold as they lay, sweaty and breathless, in the afterglow.

Reynold is by far the softest person Sam has lain with since landing in this town. A fierce pirate captain by all means, as ruthless as the rest of them, but Captain Argent melts away once that door is closed. In his wake is a gentle soul, one that wants to soothe the weariness from his bones rather than obliterate it the way people like Captain Hastings do. Even the moments when arousal leads to something rougher, hungrier, it is accompanied by fingers intertwined with Sam’s, or lingering kisses against the nape of his neck.

Tonight is no exception. He sent a man ahead to request a bath be drawn for him while he wrapped up some business, and Sam helped to scrub the grime from his fingernails and the sea salt from his hair as he sat pliant and tired with his long limbs folded in the tub. He kissed Sam with a tenderness otherwise unknown by pirates and touched him even sweeter, turning minutes into hours and groans into pleas as he explored to his liking.

Sam has never truly made love the way he was raised to understand sex should be, but he can only assume his time with Reynold   —   the only slightly consequential issue of it being sodomy aside   —   must at the very least resemble it.

After, Reynold holds him to his side, lazy fingers trailing over Sam’s spine, and Sam peppers equally lazy kisses into his shoulder. The captain sits up after a spell and reaches for the satchel he brought with him, producing a book that he passes to Sam as he sinks back into their embrace.

“ Would you read to me? ”   he asks.

Sam swallows. The blue leather of the book’s cover is worn and faded, soft to the touch, its spine thoroughly cracked with overuse. Underneath the anxiety building in his chest, Sam wonders if it is so well-read because it is Reynold’s favourite, or if it was already in disrepair when it fell into Reynold’s possession. But first and foremost in his mind is shame, hot and tight where it festers in the base of his throat.

“ I can’t, ”   he admits, his voice strained.

He knows little   —   nothing concrete   —   of Captain Argent’s life before piracy, but he can tell from the way he carries himself and the things he knows, that he was a well-educated man. Wealthy, Sam believes. Someone who had all the best resources at his disposal and could have made a far more respectable name for himself if he hadn’t been driven down this path.

Sam’s upbringing could hardly have been farther than that.

“ They tried to teach me, ”   he hastens to add, though it feels empty. There were countless ways he never took to schooling; this was by far his worst. The anger of his teachers as he failed to learn time and time again still lingers in his dreams on occasion.   “ But the words don’t... ”   He flounders. Sighs, frustrated with himself. The heat on his cheeks is almost unbearable and he can’t look at Reynold directly.   “ I know it sounds like a fiction, but the letters don’t stay where they should be. They don’t always make sense. There are days I can’t even spell my own name correctly, even though I know how. ”

Reynold is quiet, until his gentle touch under Sam’s chin forces Sam to look him in the eye. There is no judgement there, nor pity.

“ It’s okay, Sam. ”   He kisses him chastely and strokes his cheek. And then, like he can see straight into his soul and read the darkest parts of his mind:   “ A third of the men on my ship were never even taught. I don’t think any less of you for it. ”

Sam presses his lips together tight and nods, grateful, before Reynold pulls him back into his body. He takes the book from Sam’s hands and kisses his hair.   “ May I read to you instead? ”

Sam exhales, closes his eyes. The anxious knot in his chest eases.   “ Please. ”

[strongofheart]

Your muscles are in knots. Better let me rub you down.” (ranch!srs???)

     kink memes.  accepting.  @ineveryvein

IT SHOULDN’T BE SO EASY to let reynold slide in behind him like that, to let those strong hands   d i g   into where his shoulders ache the worst, but   —   it is.  makes his heart pound and his stomach flutter, but it’s easy.  natural.  inevitable, perhaps, that this is what weeks of watching under the hot summer sun would come to: the insides of reyn’s thighs pressed to the outside of his, four long legs dangling off the end of his flatbed.  sweat dripping down the back of his neck until it meets reynold’s skin, the   p a u s e   before a thumb sweeps over it, and presses in.

time loses its meaning there.  could have spent seconds or hours with reynold’s hands on his back, slow and careful, working each knot out one by one until sam’s   ---   like hot butter in his arms, spine sunk into reynold’s chest, neck tilted back onto reynold’s shoulder.  could have spent seconds or hours just like that, breathing in sync, floating in the   ---   quiet acceptance of what this is   g o i n g   to be. 

could have been seconds or hours, but when their eyes finally meet, it’s   ---   only a matter of time before sam’s rising up, twisting, to press his mouth to reynold’s.  he tastes like COFFEE and the oranges from the sunday market, and he cups sam’s face in those endlessly talented hands, and   ---   forget seconds and hours, sam could do this for DAYS without stopping. 

in that delirious first kiss high, he half intends to, but a not-nearly-distant-enough “ REYNOLD? ” has them   t e a r i n g   apart. sam jerks back so hard he tumbles off the truck, lands on the grass with a thud and a pained groan, and the crunch of shoes on gravel speeds up until   --- 

    “ JESUS, sam, are you okay?  why are you .... ”

---   beautiful, impossible spencer makes her way around the vehicle and into view.  he can see the cogs falling into place as her voice drops off:  sam on his ass on the ground, their lips as kissed-pink as their flushed cheeks, both doing an   e q u a l l y   terrible job at covering their laps.  ( and there’d be a thrill there, that he has the same effect on reynold that reynold has on him, but   ---   SPENCER. )

reynold recovers first.  slides off the flatbed like the fucking sex god he is, says   “ did you need me for something, ma’am? ”   like her own cheeks aren’t darkening with the realisation of what she just interrupted, like it’s just any other day and they aren’t this   ---   this confusing, tangled web of  watching  and   w a n t i n g   and   d e n y i n g .  

how foolish of sam to think, even for a moment, that this was easy.  to think he could just   ...   HAVE reynold and the rest of it, the desire, the tension, would just   ...   disappear.  but god, the two of them standing together above him, they’re   ---   like his own personal, dangerously beautiful ticket to hell.

               how goddamn foolish. 

[strongofheart]

"Tell me you don't want it." - queen srs

     kink memes.  accepting.  @antolcgias 

THE TENSION IS SO HEAVY it threatens to suffocate him where he stands: dangerously close to her, one hand   p r e s s e d   under the curve of her breast where his queen holds it firm.  reynold is smarter, a couple steps further back, but   ---   still just as caught up in her as samuel is.  just as foolish.  just as doomed.

golden brown eyes hold his own captive, daring him to obey her   ...   daring him even more not to.  to put a voice to his TREASON and condemn them all.  

it’s naive to think they can survive this.  to think their sins will remain a secret, hidden in her bedchambers where no one will ever find them.  to think they can tempt the devil without going to hell before their time.  and yet   ---   and yet, his fingers dig deeper into royal silk.  his eyes don’t leave hers, but his voice shakes. 

     “ i swore never to lie to you, your majesty.  forgive me. ”

[strongofheart]

“ you two... make me want to kiss you. ” srs

     kisses.   accepting.   @ineveryvein​

THE TENSION LAYS HEAVY IN THE AIR BETWEEN THEM.   it’s   …   something they haven’t found the courage to voice yet; any of them. been dancing around it, avoiding it like cowards, as though it might swallow them   w h o l e   if they dared. sam has a feeling that assumption isn’t far off   —   reynold drags those words out into the open, nervous but certain, and sam feels like he’s   s u f f o c a t i n g   with the weight of it, feels like they’re free-falling into something they can’t come back from. 

SPENCER looks just as shocked as him, but the desire in her eyes, in the   s l o w   drag of her tongue across her lip, confirms once more that this is   —   real. not a projection of his own heart, not a desperate figment of his own LONELY IMAGINATION. her gaze meets his from the other side of reynold’s chambers, and the spark startles sam out of his head.

HE CLEARS HIS THROAT and darts his eyes back to reynold, lets out a breath   —   and a challenge   —   he’d been holding in for far too long.

                                                   “ SO WHY DON’T YOU? ”

[ratherbewild]

“ i’m not going to fight you. “ (reynold)

     marvel memes.

THE GUY DOESN’T LOOK LIKE THE FIGHTING TYPE,  but bash’s hold on the knife doesn’t falter.  eyes   s c a n   what they can see of the place   —   the damn compound; looks almost military in its level of security   —   looking for threats, weak points, perhaps a flash of blonde hair   …   

     “ THAT’S GOOD, ”   he says, eyes back on the stranger.   

                                                “ — I DON’T WANT A FIGHT. ”

half expected one, though, when he got the postcard.  handwriting unrecognisable after all these years, but signed a familiar  ‘ tig. ’   —   above it, just an address.  this address.  first thought was: it’s a trap.  ghosts of his past finally coming to exact justice on a coward.  had the postcard halfway to the trash when the second thought hit: SHE’S IN DANGER.  couldn’t ignore it, then.  could never ignore her, no matter the risk.

he lets it   a p p e a r   like he’s letting his guard down; knife arm relaxing, shoulders sinking. like he believes that the man means him no harm.

     “ i think you know my sister.  TEGAN.  i want to talk to her. ”