#i'll write her arthur stuff in return

[konigceo]

me when i'm friends with someone but we don't write shitty fanfiction about each other's fictional crushes so we aren't friends

[markos-husband]

it says you write gn x character stuff, ru ok with platonic shipping? if so, could i pretty please request a platonic gender neutral reader and Arthur Morgan fic? im thinking reader’s recovering from a rough outing, old injuries/chronic pain acting up, and hes just there to sit with them while they watch the camp go about their business?

- a corvid

This was really cute! Also, absolutely I'll write platonic shipping! I hope this is up to your standards!! Feat. Kieran cause I love Kieran and can't help myself

📖🦌Rest🦌📖

"Mhm, fuck..."

They grumbled as he hopped of their horse. Their whole body ached, old pains decided they wanted to return, and new injuries from trying to rob a stagecoach with Sean, never a good idea. They gently petted the horse's mane before walked her over to the stables. A small wave to Kieran who shyly waved back.

"Howdy."

Kieran murmured as he began brushing their horse who happily neighed.

"Howdy..."

They grumbled as they walked towards their tent. They limped, their whole leg felt like red hot fire and every step made it worse. A groan spilled from their lips as they bumped into someone, the pain completely preoccupied their.

"Woah, ease there."

Arthur murmured as he gently grabbed their shoulders, stabilizing them. Arthur's eyebrows immediately furrowed as he stared at them, they looked like shit.

"The hell happened to you?"

Arthur murmured as he sat them down at a nearby table despite their protests of being fine. He pulled up a chair next to them, gently rubbing their calf. Arthur was gentle with his touches, watching how they reacted to his calloused fingers carefully rubbing the muscles.

They grumbled, "It's nothin', jus' some old pains." Arthur looked up at them, his eyes gentle and kind.

"Alright."

He said, like declared something and continued to sit next to them in silence. They looked at Arthur in confusion.

"Uh, what are we doin' right now?"

They asked. Arthur glanced at them with a proud smile.

"You are relaxin'. Restin' that leg of yours."

He said before grabbing his sketchbook and pencil. He began to sketch the scene in front of the two of them in camp. Lenny and Sean arguing at a table about something, Dutch dancing with Molly in his tent, Hosea sitting by the fire drinking coffee while Pearson told a story and Charles made arrows. They turned to argue, to say something about chores or needing to do something but Arthur cut them off.

"Don't even. The two of us are gonna sit here and rest. You deserve to take a break, especially with that leg so if anyone's got a problem with it, they can take it up with me."

Arthur said, not looking up from his sketchbook. They shook their head but a smile spread across their face as they looked at Arthur.

"You're a good friend, Arthur. A real good friend."

[a-mossy-amethyst]

Hi! I saw your post about needing writing prompts. Maybe one of Faroe and Arthur going to the park and Faroe making flower crowns for the both of them? Or something similar :-]

Family fluff!! We love to see it <3 I swapped it to Arthur making the flower crowns, hope that's alright

The park is rich with life, children playing and parents watching and chatting with each other. Arthur wasn't good at all the small talk, dreading the question of where his wife was. He'd rather spend time with Faroe.

The two of them walk along a wide path lined with the occaisional bench. The grass surrounding is a vibrant green and littered with white and yellow flowers, a collage of nature. Trees sprinkled around the park outstretch their branches, drinking in the afternoon sun. Leaves shake with the wind, alive with the breeze. It's a sunny day, the sky a clear blue and the summer sun blinding.

It'd been a struggle to convince Faroe to wait after lunch, the noon heat to strong for her to run around in.

Arthur crouches down, whispering in a conspiratorial voice, “Look at all those flowers, Faroe!”

Faroe giggles. “I wan',” she says, still struggling with saying ‘t’. She tugs Arthur's hand towards the field, so small within his own.

“Do you want to look at them?” he asks, knowing full well they'll be going home with a handful of handpicked flowers. They have a cup of water on the dining room table full of small flowers Faroe collects. It’s endearing, but convincing her to let him throw out flowers that have wilted is a lesson in patience and comforting tears.

She nods eagerly, slipping her hand out of his and running off the path into the soft grass. Arthur watches her inspect each flower, overwhelmed by the amount. He follows at a leisurely pace.

Faroe sits down, falling into the grass with her legs sticking out. She grabs fistfuls of grass, waiting for her father's approval on the flower patch she chose. He joins her, folding his knees underneath him. He wraps an arm around her shoulders and leans in to get a proper look at the flowers.

It's a patch of daisies with dandelions scattered about, sticking out from the grass.

“They're very pretty,” he observes, hooking a daisy between his fingers and tilting the flowerhead to face them better.

Approval obtained, Faroe begins picking the bigger flowers. She grabs them in fistfuls, the grass blades surrounding victims of her picking. Arthur plucks a long daisy and tucks it behind her ear, pushing her thick hair out of the way for it to stick out.

Faroe's eyes go wide, and she reaches for the flower. Arthur gently pulls her hand away. “Leave it,” he says, “it suits you.”

She frowns, and he chuckles. “I'll lift you up in front of the mirror at home so you can see it.”

That seems to satisfy her. She returns to collecting flowers.

Arthur brushes his hand through Faroe’s hair, gently avoiding tugging on knots. He tries his best to brush them out in the mornings, but anything save of completely soaking her hair makes it difficult. Faroe inherited Bella's hair, thick waves that got frizzy in the humid air unless she put enough product to tame it.

Her hair, his eyes. Blue and clear, a piercing gaze even from a child.

Faroe stuffs a handful of flowers into his hand. “Crown,” she demands.

“What's the magic word?”

Her cheeks puff up. “Crown, p’ease.”

Arthur grins, biting down his laugh. “Of course, darling.”

Tess taught him how to make flowers crowns. She made them a few times when taking Faroe to the park, and she absolutely loved them. Arthur is grateful she took the time to teach him– the struggle is worth seeing Faroe light up.

He takes the pile of small flowers from her and lays them out in front of him. He grabs two daisies and a dandelion, noting with gratitude Faroe had been careful enough to keep the stems on the longer side. He lines them up and begins braiding, twisting the flowers together with clumsy hands.

Faroe watches him at first, leaning in and poking at the flowers braided into place. He explains the process to her in a soft voice until she gets bored and returns to playing with the grass.

The sun bears down on them, coming in waves. It isn't as bad as it was earlier, but Arthur can still feel sweat collecting at the back of his neck. He quickens his pace on finishing the crown, tucking the ends into the beginning braid.

“All done! Look, Faroe, do you like it?” Arthur says, presenting the crown to her in open palms.

Faroe smiles and claps her hands, her lips curling in and revealing a row of tiny teeth. He slips the flower crown onto her head gently. She raises her hands to her head and pats at the crown.

“Careful,” Arthur warns her, worried about the crown’s fragility. He's gotten better over the past few attempts, but he's no expert.

Faroe complies, lowering her hands. She learned her lesson after she had messed with it too much the first time and it had fallen apart. The tears had left Arthur with a bleeding heart. And a headache.

Arthur looks around and spots an empty oak tree nearby. “Let's go to the shade, okay?”

Faroe looks up at him with wide eyes. He stands and picks her up, collecting the extra flowers with one hand and holding her in the other, careful to not let the crown fall. She wraps her arms around his neck, leaning into his chest.

Arthur dreads the day she'll be too big to be carried.

He strides over to the tree, setting her down at its base where the shade is best. He settles beside her, leaning his head back against the trunk.

“Baba,” Faroe says, patting his thigh.

Arthur looks down. “Yes, darling?”

“Crown.”

He smiles. “You already have one. See?” he asks, pointing to the flowers settled neatly on her head.

She shakes her head, frowning. “Crown,” she repeats, pointing at Arthur.

He blinks. “Me?”

She nods.

“I don't need a crown, that's for you.”

This does not satisfy her, and her lips start trembling. “Crown!”

“Wh– okay, okay, a crown for me, too,” Arthur assures, holding up the remaining flowers. He huffs. “You're quite the negotiator, aren't you?”

Faroe responds with a beaming grin, knowing she's won. Her eyes turn into little cresents, nearly closed. It's the most endearing sight.

He sighs, heart melting. “Well, you're adorable, so I’ll let it slide.”

He begins to twist the flowers into a second crown, but quickly finds he doesn't have enough. “Faroe, darling, won't you fetch me more flowers?”

Faroe looks up from her massacred grass patch. Arthur decidedly ignores the pulled out blades of grass strewn all over her legs and pats her back encouragingly. “C’mon, there’s a patch over there,” he says, pointing at a collection of dandelions a few feet away, just outside of the tree’s shadow. Faroe stands up and hobbles over to them, picking the flowers and inspecting them to make sure they suit her liking. Arthur twists a few strands while he waits.

She returns with another handful, dumping them into his lap.

“Very good, Faroe! These are perfect,” he praises, patting her shoulder instead of her head to avoid damaging her flower crown.

Faroe squeals and begins tapping his arm. “Crown! Crown!” She babbles.

“Yes,” Arthur laughs, “I'm working on it. Sit down beside me, you can watch.” He picks her up and sets her down beside him, tucked into his side.

Restless, she continues tapping his arm and outer thigh while he finishes working.

“There we go!” Arthur announces. This crown is much more yellow than Faroes, only the first few flowers from the original patch daisies. The rest are large dandelions, a warm bloom of liquid gold.

Faroe cheers. She grabs the crown and tries to place it on Arthur's head. He ducks down so she can reach better, adjusting it to sit steady.

“Thank you, my lady,” he says in a posh British accent.

Faroe giggles, patting his cheek. Arthur grabs her hand, giving a kiss to the back it.

It's a beautiful day, the sun shining, the sky clear, butterflies fluttering about. Arthur sits with Faroe and enjoys the summer from the shade of an oak tree, wearing matching flower crowns.

A few boys will laugh at his accessory and a mother with her two children will compliment it and coo over Faroe. Arthur barely registers them in his memory, the moment focused fully on his daughter.

[bookofmac]

okay okay okay, thinking thoughts

So I find the concept of Names really interesting in Camlann, reading into the extracanonical stuff put on the tumblr is giving me food for theory crafting. The Catacylsm seems to be some kind of return of magic to the world (possibly heralded by the return of The King of the Britons in their hour of need?) and thus people with significant Names have access to something because of it. they fall into the stories of their namesakes; Perry, Gwaine, and Kay are Knights, Morgan is Morgana Le Fay, and we now have a Gwen in Shújūn.

Based on Kay's dicussion with Perry if more people can fill in the roles of their stories to more 'to plan' the stories will go, Of course this is not good news if you know the general end point of Arthurian legend (Betrayal, muderer, war, most everyone dead, the 'Glory' of camelot gone). It's inherently kind of a doomsday cult if you stay in those stories, you know where parts of this are going (i'll get back to this)

it also seems like there may be some, for lack of a better term, kin drama going on. There are 900 members of the court and Kay mentions that Peredur is a really uncommon name outside of Wales, meaning there are certain knights who are more common, i assume Lancelot's, Kay's, maybe a few Talisin's, a bunch of Gareth's, and like 50 Elaines like in the legends lol

We also dont have the context for how Names work full yet and neither do our characters. I think theres a lot of answers to be had with Shújūn/Gwen with how it works, how you know other than the buzzing in you're head and desire go through the motions and Follow the Story

Now, where does Dai fit in all this?

Dai doesn't have a Name, and I think theres going to be a point where he changes his name in a major way, but not to a Name, but a Bardic name. In welsh poetic and story telling tradtions Welsh poets, THE OG Bards, will take on pseudonyms tell their stories. This practice stems from the medievil era, but goes forth to today, and many modern Welsh and welsh heritage poets have connections to this tradition (Dylan Thomas' middle name was his great uncles bardic name, Sarah Williams published her work under the name Sadie), I believe it's also a requirement to have one if you intend to perform in the major Eisteddfod, (I am Australian so my experiance of Eisteddfods here is very different so if i'm wrong on that let me know)

Why would he do this? I think Dai is going to, at least try, to write him and his friends a way out.

Much ink is spilt over how Arthurian legend doesnt have an 'orginal text', and as such there are lots of stories that are inherently contradictory; Bedwyr is the best knight, but so are Gwaine, Lancelot, and Galahad. Mordred is some random king until his Arthur's son. Arthur has a sister, no he has two, actually he has three and one of them is an Elaine. This could be used to explain any doubles (are you my Gwaine), as well as why we see a few different spelling varients which are, the very welsh Peredur as opposed to Percival or Parzifal, the anglisised and more boarish Kay as opposed to Cei or Caius (this last one might just to keep Dai and Kay distinct tho). These variations are no more or less 'canon' than any other telling of the story, and so often the writer of a given telling of Arthurian legend is going to have their own bias. But things dont HAVE to end the way they always do, and sometime you need to have someone outside the story you're caught in to tell you a new one.

You are not locked into that ever looming cloud of Thomas Mallory and Le Morte d'Arthur.

Other evidence I have for this is that Dai sings at the begining of each episode, and sings in welsh at that. He also is, to a point our narrator, existing both in and out of the current narative. Also his name is an a lyric of Sosban Fach (a song i would be surprised if it wasn't in the show at some point) 'Dai bach y sowldiwr' which is also not from the text the song was based on. Tangential yes, but i think it's worth thinking about.

I think there is also something to be said about choice in what your name is and how it feeds into the overall theme of identiy, and how that plays into other themes at play in the story, like Transness, Imperialism, and Predestination

TL:DR; While he doesnt have a Name, Dai's gonna give himself an epic bard name and save them all by writing a killer hook to get them out of the story

[mr-saavik]

Midyear Book Freakout Tag 2024

Haven't done this in a few years and no one asked for it but here we go

1) Best book:

Lots of contenders for this, but I think it has to be A Room of One's Own by Virginia Woolf. Fantastic writing on a great subject

2) Best sequel:

I haven't really read any traditional sequels where a story continues on from another, but any of the Sherlock Holmes books/short story collections works for this. Maybe The Memoirs of Sherlock Holmes or The Hound of the Baskvilles as favorites? Idk

3) New releases you want to read

Henry Henry by Allen Bratton, but idk when I'll get to it because I'd need to get an interlibrary loan

4) Most anticipated release

I'm lowkey bad at keeping up with whats coming out BUT I am excited to read Failure to Comply by @librarycards

5) Biggest Disappointment

Probably Disability Visibility edited by Alice Wong because I had heard it was great and a good introduction to writings on disability, but ended up being a very mixed collection of writings and a lot of it just felt meh

6) Biggest Surprise

Perhaps Zong! by M. NourbeSe Philip? Not surprise in the sense that once I knew what it was I thought I wouldn't like it, but surprise in the sense I had never heard of it until I was assigned to read it in a class about literature of the Middle Passage

7) Favorite new author

Virginia Woolf. I've read Orlando before but I don't really remember it; reading A Room of One's Own made me realize I love her writing style

8) Newest fictional crush

Closest answer I can give to this is Sherlock Holmes because I do love that bitch but idk if "crush" is the right word for it or if he counts as new if I was familiar with his character from the Granada tv series

9) Newest favorite character

To not repeat saying Sherlock Holmes, I'm going to say Merricat Blackwood from We Have Always Lived in the Castle even though I've read that before, so again, it doesn't really count as new

10) A book that made you cry

None despite historically being a known crier

11) A book that made you happy

Uhhhhh I guess one of the Sherlock Holmes ones? I tend to read sad shit and reviewing what I've read so far this year there isn't really "happy" material besides that

12) Most beautiful book you've bought or received

Big fan of these two

13) What books do you need to read by the end of the year?

Well. Finish what I'm currently reading (Slouching Towards Bethlehem by Joan Didion, Noor by Nnedi Okorafor, Moby Dick by Herman Melville, The Return of Sherlock Holmes by Arthur Conan Doyle), also read Before We Were Trans by Kit Heyam because I have it out from the library, same with The White Album by Joan Didion because it is also in the massive book of nonfiction work from Didion I have out from the library, and I think Sara @colors-changing-hue & I are going to attempt to finish all of the Sherlock Holmes books by the end of the year but we've been slow on that recently so we'll see if that happens (to complete the series we'd nees to finish The Return of Sherlock Holmes and then read The Valley of Fear, His Last Bow, and The Case-Book of Sherlock Holmes). Besides all of that for fun, once classes start back up I will be reading a lot of Shakespeare for my class on his early plays, some medieval romances for a class on that genre, and probably some books about Hitchcock because I'm taking a class on his films and the professor teaching it usually assigns a few whole books to read besides articles & stuff

[riverdrifter]

River Listens To: Mayfair Watchers Society - Episodes 5 & 6

We're starting to pick up more hints towards the overarching plotline as I move along! I'm cataloguing my thoughts in between shiny hunting sessions in Pokemon Rumble, so my writing may be a little more sparse. As always, spoilers under the cut!

📸 Episode 5: Flash Bulb

Here it is: the incident that was hinted at in Episode 2 with the Hayward Textile Mill! This episode was a little more difficult to listen to for me. The moth sound effects were a bit over-exaggerated, but also, I'm not sure how else one would communicate moth flight in an audio-only medium. The interviewer was also hard to understand sometimes. Granted, I could've looked at the transcript, but I was multitasking, so I'll take the L for that one. But there's probably a reason this is the first episode that comes up when I search "mayfair watchers society transcript".

I think the main thing making this a more difficult listen, though, was the character dynamic between our two leads, Drew and Cam. This doesn't mean it was a bad dynamic! They just don't have the easy chemistry of some of our previous characters. It made for a more tense episode, but I still think that it was a good story. In fact, I think their tension kind of carried the episode.

To elaborate, you can get the feeling immediately from the way Cam and Drew talk to each other that they are in a rough spot. Drew insults Cam a lot, and they both keep blaming each other for mistakes. The reason why is made apparent if you listen closely, though. Cam mentions someone named Finch who evidently knows that the mill had holes in the second floor. Cam was evidently supposed to come to the mill with them last year, until an unspecified incident which makes both her and Drew uncomfortable to even mention in passing. This name comes up a couple more times, until Drew says this:

"Finch was always full of shit anyway."

Was. This made their entire dynamic click for me. I think this is a mutual friend, or perhaps just a friend of Cam's, who these two had differing feelings on, and their evident loss must have torn them apart. Cam speaks of them fondly, but Drew dropping this line is what gives me the impression of what their dynamic must have been like when Finch was around. He later says that he's not going to leave Cam alone, so the remaining two clearly care for each other. There's just something making that difficult to sustain right now.

It's clear, too, that whatever happened with Finch is not the only thing straining this friendship. When Drew says that Cam's mom is nice, she says that he only thinks that because he doesn't have to live with her. Cam later asks if Drew is dealing with "stepdad stuff", which Drew does not want to talk about. So, it seems like familial issues on both ends are putting stressors on these teens and their shaky relationship.

There is more loss in the background of the episode, too. Cam mentions that her mom has been working late because someone "stopped showing up to work". That may be inconspicuous if this were not Mayfair. Drew also once mentions a brother, who he speaks about with some level of reverence; Cam later reveals that said brother was hit by a car. These two teens are clearly going through it.

Ultimately, the monster itself wasn't as exciting. Like I said, the characters felt like the greater focus. I'm glad for my relisten, because it shed a lot of light on the underpinnings of this episode that made it make so much more sense to me why it's so stressful.

🪵 Episode 6: The Host

This episode rocks. I remember liking it the first time, and it might be my favorite so far on this relisten. I like the characters, the setting, the anomaly of the week... There's a lot that I enjoy about this episode, and I'll get into why.

Arthur is a hilarious character to me. He's the epitome of "white environmentalist who thinks a week in a cabin is returning to his spiritual roots" and I find it so fun to rag on him. Let's look at the notes I kept on Arthur specifically (non-exhaustive):

"So-called civilization" oh it's one of those guys

OF COURSE HE'S WRITING A BOOK LOLLL

Guy who believes in untouched wilderness. Everyone point and laugh

"I'M OUT HERE EARNING M E N T A L WEALTH. THE CURRENCY YOU CAN NEVER RUN OUT OF. I JUST SAW A CONDOR"

"Always the fuckin' owls" guys do you think he's getting tired of this already?

He's so giving "humans are the virus"

I don't hate him. Don't let this list give you the impression that I hate him. I just think he's absolutely hilarious to make fun of because I've definitely met this guy before at like, REI. He's a guy who is disillusioned with capitalism but doesn't understand that it's capitalism and thinks that people just individually choose to work office jobs and go to college. You can tell this is true when he goes off on his friend Marv for "the crypto lifestyle" and blames him instead of, I don't know, the 1%. In that same scene, he compares his friend James' coming out (diversity win!) to himself doing his little off-the-grid soul search. He quickly realizes that he's being a dick, but like, it's emblematic of his deeper issues.

You can also tell how quickly he loses his mind being alone. I pointed out in my silly list how quick he is to curse out the owls. He also very audibly screams into his pillow before turning off the recording in one segment. Which makes sense, because he has no idea what he's doing out here. He thinks he's suuuch a naturalist, but his ass is NOT following the 6 foot rule for disposing of fecal waste. This man is going on about people not wanting to look truth in the eyes, and then he hears the most bearlike noises ever recorded and says shit like, "Must be that bird again." It's funny how out of his depth he is when he wants so badly to be a part of the natural world.

It's interesting how seamlessly his attitude towards nature flows into becoming one with the barnacles, or the Ick, or whatever we're calling it. He starts out already saying that these things out here are people, too. This made it kind of hard for me to tell when the infection started, or if there is an infection to speak of until he gets claimed at the end of the episode. I'm unclear on whether these barnacle things have some sort of mental effect upon first sighting, or if he's only lost when he makes physical contact with the thing that was previously a deer. I'm leaning towards the latter, or else I'm not sure he would have been so frightened by the bear-thing at the stream. But I'm still a bit uncertain of the mechanics of this anomaly.

Upon reading the transcript, things became a bit easier to understand. I misinterpreted some things in my notes; I'm unsure whether this fault actually lies on the sound design, since I was listening without headphones again. I did notice a gentle breeze at the beginning of the episode, which got me into the atmosphere. I also noticed that the creatures outside were sounding a little fucked up while Arthur here was still hearing birds. There's one bit at the end of the transcript that's really raw, but left me confused:

His voice fades away. The noises of the barnacles rise even higher. The bear roars. So does the ocean.

It's quite evocative, but it made me give the end of the episode another listen, because I did not catch any ocean sounds on my first go. It's faint, but you can definitely hear the ocean if you're paying attention. I have to imagine that this is metaphorical, otherwise it raises a lot more questions about how this anomaly works.

This episode had a lot of good dialogue lines, too. For as much as I make fun of Arthur, he delivers some real bangers, such as the following:

"How can you know something's dead if you don't know how it lives?"

and:

"The point is, I ripped out the part that rots. Now, the healing can begin."

I give the guy a lot of shit, but you can tell that he's a writer. (I also really like his VA; they use him a lot, but I find him to be quite effective.)

Overall, I really like this episode. I'm still a little shaky on how the Ick works, but since this is a monster of the week show, I don't think I need to dwell on it much. Some anomalies might play by different rules than others. That's something to keep in mind. I found the theming of the episode to be fantastic: guy moves to the woods with nobody to escape what he feels are the faults of humanity. Guy rejects connection in doing this. Guy then finds connection by succumbing to the horrors. I can't quite articulate it, but it's a fun turn-around. I look forward to more episodes like this.

[kroashent]

Kroashent Character Spotlight: Arzhur II

For August/September, I'm taking on a little side project, cleaning up and finishing some of the placeholder characters on the Kroashent WorldAnvil. Oftentimes, inspiration strikes suddenly, leaving me with a lot of unfinished concepts that don't quite fit cleanly into the mix. I'll be returning to answering Q+As soon (questions are always open and welcome) and writing the next chapters of the book. In the meantime, working on a lot of commission work, so this is something of a side project when the tablet is charging.

------------

Val's Notes: Currently, I'm working through two major characters with a lot of stuff attached to them. Aoife, Kathalia's Aunt, has a good deal of source material in her inspiration, and balancing the Irish myths with her Kroashent side has taken a bit of finesse. (Canonically, the mythological Aoife is from Brittany, so the connection works well). More complex is Armel Guyon, a historical figure who features heavily in past events that heavily influence the story. Armel requires a lot of work since he's so important to the story and I'm not sure how much I should reveal.

Arzhur II is a pretty minor ruler of Letha, a guy with a peaceful reign and whose monumental administrative reforms are overshadowed by figures who wage war, poison each other, or fight dragons. Poor, hardworking bureaucrats like Arzhur get overlooked! I may revisit Arzhur II, as he is on the throne after Kathalia is born, but there's not a ton of interesting source material around his historical counterpart. There's some really interesting Franco-English relationship crisis points during the real Arthur II's reign, but not sure how those would translate into Kroashent.

There's also an Arthur I, historically, whose life is overshadowed by some juicy conspiracies, kidnappings and murders. Arzhur I never sat the throne in Kroashent, but his role is still in the air.

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hey! Good day! I've been surfing to your page and I love your work and since you accept request/ideas I just wanna request, if you accept, a Tommy x Lizzie fic??? It's my first time to request a fic to anyone and your work are just so good. So here it goes, since Tommy is always late or gone when Lizzie needed him the most let's make him suffer what if Lizzie also had a TB but she hide it from everyone, what if that's one of the reasons why she left him, which will make him very alike, and somehow Charles finds out and secretly call Ada since Tommy is gone and no one knows where he is except Arthur and I'll give the rest to your imagination. I just need new Tommy and Lizzie cause I'm a sucker for it. Anyways I hope you consider writing this idea. Thank you 💗

Dear Anon,

Thank you for the request! I'm so glad that you enjoy my writing. Sorry this took so long. Anytime anyone wants some Tommy x Lizzie let me know. I'll love them forever. Normally I always find a happy ending, but this time I didn't. It's pretty sad so read at your own risk.

Warnings: Sad. No happy endings, death, descriptions of pain and sadness / mental distress - Charlie is in his late teens / early twenties in this. I'm not sure why but that's how I pictured it. Every death in the show is cannon in this fic 😔

He missed her the moment she left. Things falling apart around him, he knew this sickness, the one in his head and the one in his heart was a direct result of his actions. Laying in the grass he looked up at the sky. He’d ruined everyone, everything, in the hopes of bringing a better life. 

What did he get in return? 

He was in over his head, alone for the first time in his life. The peace and fresh air he’d dreamed of pressing down on his sick body. There was only pain. Things he had spent a lifetime avoiding now running free in his mind. Ghosts danced around him reminding him of the pain and destruction he caused. 

He wanted to see Ruby, wrap her up in his arms. Beg for her forgiveness. He wanted Polly, to be able to just sit next to her. Feel her safety again. John. His heart twisted up further. He wanted to see his brother, tell him about the mess he made - only to watch him find a way to make a joke about the whole thing. 

Seeing Ruby point out the obvious, he knew what he had to do. 

He rarely ever got what he wanted. 

Was it ever worth it? 

__________________________________________________

Charlie 

He just didn't like the way she sounded on the phone. Freshly orphaned she was the only parent figure he had left, he felt an obligation to her to check. 

Sitting on the steps of the front porch, his stomach twisted in grief. 

He was going to lose her too. 

He wiped the tears from his cheeks and went back into the small cottage. She was awake now, her eyes glassy, skin fluctuating between being as translucent, pale as a corpse, back to flushed and feverish. He couldn't touch her but at least he could sit in the room with her. 

He reprimanded himself for being selfish and panic set in. What would he do about his life now? If his dad didn't come back would he take over the business? What was all the nonsense with his Gypsy son, Duke?

He realized he had two options, to embrace that it was enough just to sit and read to her in these final days. Or work up the courage to say all the things he knew he should have said ages ago. She was his mum after all. Needing another break he called Ada knowing that what was left of the family should have a chance to visit before it was too late. 

He moved back and sat with her. Knowing Ada would tell the family he wanted to get out all the emotional stuff before others were around to observe. She looked at him in a different way in those moments. 

He just hoped that he made her feel that she was a good mum because it was the truth. 

_______________________________________________

Tommy

He made peace at the eleventh hour only to find unbelievable pain and suffering by afternoon tea. 

She was sick, like Ruby, and he was fine.

He didn't waste any time. Wanting to put things right for the first time in his life. He’d done wrong by her every step of the way, at least now he could try to do right by her. Be strong for her and make sure she has everything she needs or wants. 

Fuck she could just yell at him one last time if that’s what she wanted. He didn't care he would take a thousand beatings by the worst hand just to put a smile on her face or a sense of ease in her mind. 

He traveled as quickly as possible. Racing against time, his mind hazy and heavy with all the things he would have to apologize for. Part of him hoped that her passing would be so painful for him that God would take his soul with her’s. 

He showed up at the small cottage as per the instructions Charlie had passed on to Ada. He was fine till he got to the front door. The air in his lungs burned the muscles surrounding his ribs, even his body was tired of this. 

He knocked and opened the door. He made it through the quiet house. The nurse's items were placed all around and he was happy she was being looked after. 

He pressed open the master bedroom. Saw the late afternoon light streaming across her impossibly frail body and waxy skin. He was going to sit in the chair placed in the corner of the room. A stack of books piled next to it and he recognized Charlie's favorite book he always talked about open on the seat. Even in her last moments, she was letting him share his favorite with her, just to make it a little easier on him. 

He was just going to sit, wait till she was up and ask if it was alright if he stayed. Or endure her wrath and then let her enjoy her last days in peace, free of his shadow. It didn't take long, he shifted and the floorboards creaked, her eyes landing on him. 

Confusion crossed her brow. 

“Can I stay for a while?” He asked her softly. 

“I suppose. Only if you -” 

“No business” He shook his head looking out the window, feeling tears start to form.

“Alright then.” She motioned for him to come closer. Give an inch he’d take a mile, he climbed into bed next to her. “I’m not sure if I'm contagious” 

“I don’t care.” He settled in next to her. Mind swimming with all the times he should have been next to her in bed. How much nicer and simpler his life would have been if he’d just picked her after the war. She’d never once done wrong and he’d been awful to her every step of the way. He pulled a Black Madonna out of his pocket to place around her neck. Her eyes protested before revealing a deep sadness that he felt run through his body like electricity. 

He helped her settle into his side. Resting his face in her hair he couldn't hold back the tears anymore. He regretted it terribly, he wanted to do right by her in her last moments, be strong for her. As usual, he was falling into her arms broken and battered.

“Are you crying, love?” She murmured. He didn't speak just held her tighter. 

“I’m sorry.” He eventually stated. “For everything. All of it.” She let out a humming noise. 

“Why was it always someone else?” She asked weakly.

“Trust me, Lizzie, it was always you. The good stuff, anything real, was with you. Everything else was just greed.” 

“I should have told you.” She whispered.

“I shouldn't have let you leave.” He argued. “Any guilt you feel, just place on my shoulders, eh? All of this was my fault.” 

“I forgive you. It brought me a good life. Better than the one I had before. When I go Ruby will be there waiting for me.” Her own tears started to fall and her fingers gripped his shirt. She looked up at him and he could feel her getting lighter and heavier at the same time. 

“Love, take me with you,” Tommy begged, he brushed his fingers along her cheek. 

“Move forward, be a better man for me. I’ll wait for you.” She whispered. “I’ll tell Ruby you love her.” She faded away slowly. Her eyes focused on his before becoming unfocused, the connection between them remaining as the last of her warmth was imprinted on to his soul. 

She crossed over easily. The grieving process would be endless. But he laid there next to her in silence, delaying everything for as long as possible. 

He got up slowly, he saw plenty of people die. But he hadn't felt this since his mother passed. That combination of numbness and consuming sadness. He wanted to cry, scream, and clean up the mess he made. He wanted to throw himself at this stupid mess, and pray that it would end his life. 

He could die honorably. All of this would end. 

He ran through the motions, making tea before turning around to see Charlie in the doorway. Watching him. 

“She’s gone,” Charlie announced, looking out the window. Keeping his back straight, he wouldn't break in front of Tommy. Remembering him as a little boy, one who would run to his father when there were tears in his eyes. 

Charlie was just another person he’d ruined. 

More salt in the wound. His eyes started to well up, and he put his arms out onto the counter leaning forward. Trying to breathe. 

He pinched the bridge of his nose, the usual ways of pulling him through intense emotion lost on him. Tears streamed down his face and he felt frozen in the silence. He should be strong for Charlie, show him how men carry on. 

Instead, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and without thought, he pulled him into a tight hug. Their grief was shared despite one being much more honorable than the other. He was a failure in so many ways, he had no idea where to start or what to say. 

He realized that the boy hugging him back was taller than himself, reminding him once again of just how much time was abandoned. 

“I love you. I loved your mum too” He said quietly. 

“I know.” He nodded and Tommy hoped he did know. “We’ll manage.”

He patted Charlie’s back firmly then returned to making them tea. He knew that if he was going to make the world right he wouldn't do it alone. He wanted to talk business with Charlie, and figure out a plan, but remembering Lizzie's promise he stopped himself. 

He wouldn't do that in her house. They talked about her instead how she would be remembered and cherished. All the lovely parts of her he rarely interacted with. Tea turned to whiskey and he actually laughed at the boy's jokes. Enjoying this night with what was left of their family. Sadness watching them in the shadows of candlelight, he chose to laugh with his son. 

He and Charlie stayed the night in the little cottage. Her body was wrapped up the next day and a funeral was set. 

He’d bury his wife, then work with his family to find a way to bury the mess he made. At the end of it all, he’d clean things up, placing what was left in Charlie’s capable hands. 

__________________________________________________

He kills Mosley and that horrible blonde woman. 

Then he and duke sort out all the nonsense making the company legal. 

He gives it to Charlie, making him promise to look out for Duke as well. 

Then he moves down to the yard to live with Charlie and Curly. Spends time with horses, Ada, her, and john’s kids come to visit him. Arthur comes around almost every day. 

He works around the yard, calls Charlie every day, and the boy comes around as much as possible. 

He lives to a reasonable age till his death, he passes in the middle of the night. Much to his delight, his family is waiting for him. Arms full of forgiveness.

[eolewyn1010]

Lotsa stuff happening, so babble I shall! And because I don't wanna write another entry the length of a whole Dracula chapter, I'll split the comment up in three.

Well, first to babble is Jack. He, Arthur, and Quincey are strung along by van Helsing, and none of them is all that thrilled at the prospect of opening Lucy's tomb, or convinced that van Helsing is anything else than a nutjob. Also, language goes haywire? According to Arthur, pigs are bought in pokes (do Scotsmen actually say that?) and what the hell does he mean by "pourparler"? Probably not the dish, no? Van Helsing is all, "if I could spare you one pang, God knows I would" - DUDE. You could have spared him the pang. Neither Arthur nor Quincey needed to know about this. Had you gotten on with it way back when, Lucy would already rest in peace and the children of the surrounding area would be safe, with Arthur none the wiser and coping as he should. But no, we have to threaten Arthur with Lucy being condemned to hell for all eternity and ask for fucking permission to cut her head off and then be surprised and upset when met with an angry reaction.

Near midnight, the dude squad enters the cemetery. Atmospheric description of a cloudy-but-moonlit night, as is Stoker's wont, and upon checking the coffin, we find that Lucy is on a stroll again. Van Helsing seals the tomb from the outside with, I think, churchyard soil and some crumbled Eucharist bread (Host? Communion wafer? whatever the correct English term is) while they wait for Lucy to return. Apparently, van Helsing even got an Indulgence for abducting innocent wafers from Amsterdam and stuffing them under crypt doors. Seeing as Stoker is such a Protestant, I'm amazed at his praising all the oh-so-idolatrous Catholicism as the only stuff that'll help against vampires. But lo, Lucy enters! Baffles me a little that she's decribed as a dark-haired woman; I could swear the last time there was talk of her hair, it was likened to sunbeams. But there she is in her funeral gown, her newest toddler snack in her arms, and the dude squad is spooked to actually recognize her in the moonlight. Vampire Lucy is hereby acknowledged as a reality. Let's not forget that the grossest thing about Lucy is that she has something wanton on her now instead of her former purity! I wanna point out that Lucy died a virgin, so this argument doesn't even hold any steam. Stoker, get over your hang-ups. Sexually alluring women aren't creepy; people who eat children are creepy. Being in perma-trance with no control over one's actions is creepy.

Still, when Lucy realizes she's caught, the most gruesome thing she thinks of is dropping the kid, hitting on Arthur and asking him to join her in an undead embrace. Side note, Jack is one of the people who describes his formerly beloved's eyes as "gentle orbs". That's either a meme to ponder or a bad fanfic in the making. Also, he could have killed her "with savage delight"? Jack, calm down with that murder boner. I get the loathing; I do not get the vicious sadism. Lucy seems to have a little vampire hypnosis going on already as Arthur is pretty helpless to her call, but when she leaps forward to get him, van Helsing is there all golden crucifix and iron nerves. Lucy flees but cannot enter her tomb, and she shoots one hell of a death glare at the dude squad, prompting Arthur to give his permission to van Helsing's proceedings. So van Helsing allows her to get back into the tomb (Lucy does that cool "dissolve in moonbeams" thing to enter through the smallest opening), and then traps her inside before picking up the poor child Lucy has tossed to the ground. The kid is left someplace where the police can find him, again (dammit, van Helsing, just hand him over to SOMEONE!), and van Helsing can feel a bit superior in having Lucy nice and safe locked up.

[viiisenyas]

How many you want? Because I can send a million 😅 Feel free to pick just one haha

14. hugging with head on shoulder - for Artie and Val 💖

43. raising the other’s hand to their lips to kiss it softly - for Alessa and Alistair 💖

45. comparing hand sizes, then linking fingers together - for Val and Hawke 💖

51. caressing the other’s cheek - for Giselle and Anders 💖

TOUCHES ASK GAME!

I'm going to put this one in my pocket because I want to do them all for you and I will tag you when I get to them 0u0 but for now I'll do Artie and Val (and omg pls send them all, I love writing cute stuff)

Arthur had arrived in Skyhold the day before his cousin's formal coronation as Inquisitor, and while he was glad to hear of his ascent from Champion of Kirkwall to leading the Inquisition, it didn't compare to how he felt when he learned that Valeriana was within the fortress.

He began to pace on the battlements, waiting for Varric to return with her, and with each minute that passed, his anxiety rose. He wasn't sure what he was going to say to her. After all, it had been over a decade since they'd last seen each other, and during that time, she never returned his letters after he sent his regards to her when he encountered Hawke and Anders in the Deep Roads.

Is she angry that I didn't come to find her? Maker, I hope she understands.

The Warden-Commander unconsciously traced the scar on his cheek before he heard footsteps drawing closer, and the familiar sound of her voice.

"Varric, you know I don't like it when you're secretive." She said.

"Oh, come on, Birdie. You love surprises." Varric chuckled.

"If your friend has a gift basket of sweetrolls, then I'll forgive it."

She sounds just as lovely as she did before.

Arthur's cheeks grew warm, and his heartbeat began to race. He let out a soft sigh before pushing his fingers through his raven hair, and he turned his head. Her large green eyes seemed more radiant in the sunlight and he offered a soft smile that quickly fell when he caught the sight of the brand on her forehead.

The grief he felt when he learned of her becoming Tranquil returned, and the Warden huffed, shaking his head.

Thank the Maker she's cured.

"A-Arthur?" Valeriana squeaked. She shifted her wide gaze towards Varric and Amell watched as her lips fell open.

"I'll let you two catch up." The dwarf smiled before turning on his heel to walk away.

"Maker, I thought I'd never see you again!" She exclaimed as she quickly approached him. She threw her arms around his waist, and he returned the gesture, feeling his heart flutter.

Then, a wave of melancholy overcame him as he realised that the tender moments they could have shared together were stolen by the Templars and the Blight. Amell held her tighter, and began to sway from side to side, afraid that if he let go of her, she would vanish.

"I'm so sorry, Val. I should have been there to protect you." He murmured, bringing his palm to the back of her head. He began to stroke her hair comfortingly as he listened to her sobbing against him. "I should have gone to Kirkwall sooner."

"It's not your fault, Arthur. I don't blame you." She sniffled.

"You... you're not angry at me?" The Warden pulled back a bit to look at her, and he furrowed his brow.

Valeriana shook her head, sniffling once more before she pressed her cheek just below his shoulder. "I was never angry at you, Arthur."

While he was relieved to hear that she held no grudge against him, the sadness that filled his heart increased.

"Then, why haven't you written back?" Arthur asked, tone softening.

"It's a long story," She confessed, letting go of him. She took a few paces back, and clutched her arm before casting her gaze downward. "If you'll accompany me to the garden, I'll tell you, but..." She sighed and he didn't miss the way she was frowning. "You'll want to sit down."

I'm not going to like this, am I?

Arthur paused for a moment, pondering the possibilities of what news she might give him before taking a breath. He offered her his hand, and smiled when she grasped it.

"Lead the way, love."

[hajimariwaquartet]

Izumi blinks when Sakuya pauses in his movements, glancing at the script in his hand. Hesitation and fear is visible on his face. "Sakuya, what's wrong?"

"Um..." His hands drops to his side, and he doesn't meet her eyes. Juza blinks, not expecting the sudden stop.

"Somethin' wrong?"

"I'm a bit scared of the next scene... and I don't know why," Sakuya admits, clutching the front of his jacket anxiously. "I mean, I've rehearsed on my own but letting other people hear this part... scares me."

Izumi skims that part of the script, and she grimaces. That hit too close to home. No wonder he was uncomfortable with it. She looks up with her lips set in a line. They are almost at the end, and the first rehearsal has been going well. But, she certainly wasn't going to force him if he's uncomfortable. "We can ask Tsuzuru to rewrite this scene if you want. Should I call Tsuzuru over?"

Sakuya glances at the script in his hand, at Izumi, Juza, and the other cast to the side. His eyes flicker back to Izumi, and he smiles a bit. He shakes his head. "How about we try one run first though? I can't let Tsuzuru's hard work go to waste."

Izumi sees the desperation mixed in with determination in his eyes. She hesitates. Would there be worth in letting him play this scene? Though, she could definitely see why Tsuzuru casted him for lead this time. Besides, he requested this particular role, after all. She nods. "Of course. You're the lead actor this time so I trust in your judgement. But, tell us if you're okay with this scene."

"Okay then..." Sakuya turns to Juza, with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "Please start the scene then, Juza."

Juza doesn't say anything, still eyeing him. But after a while, he silently nods, closing his eyes to get into character. He opens his eyes after a few seconds, lips set into a scowl and eyebrows furrowed. Juza is gone, and Arthur, heir of the Pluvian Throne, stands in his place instead.

"You've been lying to me all this time! You said that we'd be back home by this time, and yet we're still on this god-forsaken sea!" Arthur turns away with practiced grace, crossing his arms petulantly. This scene is supposed to be both Arthur and Martin's turning point. "All of you pirates are the same type of scum that should be persecuted. I ought to put out a decree against you when I get to the throne."

Izumi glances at Sakuya, and she's a bit worried when he doesn't respond immediately. His head is bowed down and his fists are clenched so tightly that they're turning white. The atmosphere is tense—as the scene should be—yet it feels off.

Martin lifts his head, expression furious yet close to crying. Izumi doesn't ever recall seeing an expression like that on him before, and it squeezed her heart a bit. She doesn't need to take a look at Itaru, Masumi, Taichi, nor Azami to see their shock either. He walks up to Arthur, giving off the aura of a Pirate King—instead of his usually good-natured and lighthearted atmosphere.

"Shut up." He hisses through gritted teeth. "No one—I repeat—no one understands what I go through... yet I still choose to be a kind person, regardless of what people think of me. I've been nice to you and even treated you like a friend, just because you're a person too."

The script tells them that Martin was supposed to turn away at this point, but he doesn't. To his credit, Arthur stands his ground, still looking incredibly pissed.

"Why do I always get nothing in return for all the kindness I show everyone?! Is it not enough for me to get nothing in return? Do I have to get... betrayal on top of it?" Martin's voice cracks at the end, and tears begin rolling down his cheeks. Juza's face finally breaks from his expression to an expression of panic. Everyone else in the room is frozen as well, and not even Izumi could speak up. The emotions simmering in the room are just so overwhelming.

"Still... why do I get nothing in return? I've always fought against the odds when all I wanted was to—" Martin sniffles, yet despite his tears, he continues. His voice falls to a whisper. He turns away from Juza, a sleeve over his eyes. "I just wanted for people to accept me. I always get turned away no matter how much of myself I give away..."

Sakuya hiccups as he tries to wipe his tears, but they don't stop. Juza reaches out for him, but before he could tap his shoulder, Sakuya runs out of the room. He stumbles and almost hits the doorway on the way out.

Only Juza hears Sakuya's whispered "I'm sorry." His hand falls to his side.

Izumi feels her own eyes water. Hearing that from Sakuya—regardless if it was still in the script or not—hurt so much. Izumi doesn't know how much Sakuya was keeping down, and that was what pierced her heart the most.

Would no one have known about Sakuya's bottled up thoughts if not for this script?

this is a wip that i've been trying to complete, but to no avail :( writing fake plays/event stories are absolute hell, so i'll probably never finish this.

this is a haruaki mixed play (fusion of action elements with drama), with sakuya lead and juza co-lead!! the basic premise is that sakuya plays an infamous pirate king in this (martin), while juza plays a bratty prince (arthur). arthur gets caught up in stuff that lands him with in martin's pirate crew, and they have to work together to find the treasure that will get the bounty off martin's head and also prove that arthur is the true heir.

the event story is sakuya trying to act the scene above without his emotions getting in the way, and he does this basically talking out his bottled up feelings over the years (with juza and the rest of the cast's help ofc!)

[moody-cowdaddy]

Helping Hand [Part 2 - End]

Part 1: https://moody-cowdaddy.tumblr.com/post/186800803204/helping-hand-arthur-morgan-x-reader

Arthur Morgan x Reader | Oneshot/Drabble #3

Summary: You and Arthur finally get the chance to be alone, again.

Category: Smut.

A/N: I really, really hope that this is good. I stayed up way later than I should have lastnight to finish writing, and I am paying for it today. But here it is, hope y'all enjoy! If any of these gifs are yours, just let me know, so I can give you credit.

GIF CREDITS: The last gif belongs to @robwiethoff

**If anyone see any gifs that belong to them, please let me know for credit**

××××

Your head was swimming by the time you and Arthur made it back to camp. You couldn't believe what had just happened, and while it gave you the relief you needed for the moment, it wasn't enough. You could already feel that slow ache in your core beginning to build up again, and having Arthur of all people to touch you in that way only made you want it even more. More than anything, you wanted him to throw you down right here and fuck you senseless, but you knew you'd  have to wait. There wasn't a whole lot said on the way back. The two of you exchanged mischievious glances back and forth, and doing more than a little bit of flirting any time one of you would purposely brush your hands or legs against one another.

~

When you finally arrived back at camp, the two of you shared another look with one another, both of you chuckling nervously like two teenagers before you could even speak.

"So, uh, y'need help with gettin' this stuff put away?" You asked him.

He smiled, lowering his head just a little before peeking back up at you from below his hat. "Nah, let Mr. Pearson an' Ms. Grimshaw handle it, darlin'. I got somethin' I gotta help Dutch take care of."

You nodded at him. "Alright, well, I'll go see what I can get into 'round here."

You started to climb out of the wagon, but before you could, Arthur caught your shoulder with his hand. You looked back at him curiously, waiting for him to say something. His lips parted momentarily as he looked you up and down before speaking.

"You serious 'bout tonight?" He asked.

You scoffed lightly, wo cring if he was really serious with his question. You nodded your head at him. "Damn right I was.. Where?"

"Y'know that ol' shack down the road from here?" He questioned, gesturing he head.

"Yes," you answered.

"We'll head for it at dusk," he drawled.

"Lookin' forward to it," you breathed. You looked around to make sure that no one was watching before you looked back up at him, reaching over to give his crotch a squeeze. "Hope you are, too."

"Watch it, gal," he rasped, giving you a dangerous smirk as you winked at him.

The two of you exited the wagon and it didn't take long for some of the group to notice that the two of you looked a little more than flustered. Ms. Grimshaw came walking over to the two of you, giving the both of you a concerned look as she placed her hands on her hips.

"Ms. (Y/L/N), Mr. Morgan, are you two okay? The both of ya look you've been through fire." She reached out to touch the side of you face. "Yer as red as rose."

"Ah, jus' had a bit of a situation to take of, Ms. Grimshaw. Nothin' to worry 'bout," Arthur reassured her with a tip of his hat.

She sighed, looking at you, then back to him, "Wasn't O'driscoll's again, was it?"

You shook your head. "No, it was me. I just got a bit overheated out there.. It's very hot out today," you said, turning your head to give Arthur a look.

He gave you a knowing glance, with a devilish smirk pulling at his mouth.

"Oh, you poor things," Ms. Grimshaw said. "Can I get ya anythin'?"

"'Fraid not for me, I gotta get goin' with Dutch," Arthur said, before turning his head to you, "I'll see ya later, Ms. (Y/L/N)."

"I guess ya shall, Mr. Morgan." You chewed the inside of your lip.

He tipped his hat to the both of you once more before walking off over towards Dutch's tent. Ms. Grimshaw pulled you along with her, insisting that you needed to drink some water so that you didn't overheat yourself, but truth be told, you were already past the point of being hot. It was just in a very different way that what she was expecting. You watched Arthur the whole time that he was still around camp, and he watched you too, both of you eyeing eachother from across the way, counting down the minutes until dusk.

~

~Arthur's P.O.V~

Arthur had the worst time trying to focus on anything Dutch said during the whole ride out towards Valentine. All he could think about now was later on tonight, when he got to be alone with you again. He had always had a thing for you, but never came right out and said it, as he alway just assumed you'd never thought of him in that way, but today proved him wrong in that regard.

All he wanted to do now was have you all to himself, to get his hands on you again and make you come for him even harder than you had earlier that day. The thought of it was driving him wild, and he'd spent half of the day getting hard on after hard on thinking about it. It was to the point now that he was the one aching each time it crossed his mind.

If he hadn't had to accompany Dutch, he would have already dragged you off somewhere so the two of you could get the real release that you needed. Part of him just wanted to go off to get privacy, to pleasure himself to the thought of you, like he did a lot of the time, but he didn't want to do that. He wanted to wait. He wanted his frustration and need to build up inside of him so that when he saw you he could utterly ravage you.

"Son, are you hearin' a thing I'm sayin'?" Dutch's baritone voice cut through Arthur's thoughts like a hot knife.

"Sorry, Dutch," Arthur responded with a slight sigh. "Just a little distracted."

"Well, get yourself un-distracted. We got work to do," Dutch barked.

It was gonna be a long damn day.

~

~Reader P.O.V~

The end of the day couldn't come soon enough. You felt even more desperate now than you had before. You don't know what Arthur did to you, but it was definitely something.

You were sitting inside of your tent, doing your best to try to occupy yourself by reading when the sun had started to go down. Once you started hearing the familiar voiced of Dutch and Arthur as they entered the camp, you knew that they had returned. You threw your book down onto your cot as you all but lunged towards the entrance of your tent as you looked out towards the dirt road that led out of camp. Your heart jumped in your chest as you saw Arthur, still sitting there on his horse, waiting on you.

You didn't waste any time as you made your exit. You had to stop yourself from sprinting on over towards him. Of course you got a few strange looks from some of the group as they wo dered why you were in such a hurry, but you didn't care, nor did you have time to try to explain or makeup an excuse, quite frankly, you didn't care. Arthur sat atop of his stallion, a lantern in his hand as he watched you approaching him.

"Took ya long enough," you joked, flashing him a brilliant smile.

"Tried to make it back soon as I could, darlin'," he chuckled, reaching down for you to grab his hand as he helped hoist you onto the back of his horse. "Any second thoughts?"

You huffed, "Not a one." You wrapped your arms around his abdomen, feeling his body tense at your touch. "Get goin', Morgan," you whispered in his ear.

He cut his eyes back to you, dangerously, spurring his horse to a gallop as you headed away from camp.

~

It didn't take long for you to reach the shack that he was talking about.

He brought the horse to a skidding stop, helping you jump down off the animal so you could hitch it to the old rickety porch in front of the place. He jumped down off the saddle, following behind you, holding the lantern up as he stepped up onto the porch, pushing the door open of the abandoned place. It was quiet and dark inside; for a place that was deserted, it was rather clean. He sat the lantern down onto a small dining table that sat in the middle of the floor.

He turned around to face you as you closed the distance between the two of you. You reached out, grabbing his shirt. He put his hands on the sides of your face, pressing his lips roughly into yours as he slide his tongue past your lips, kissing you passionately. It made a groan escape your lips, and you could feel that familiar throbbing between your legs again.

You pulled back, looking up at him, "You've done somethin' to me."

He hummed, planting heated kisses against your jawline. "An' what's that?

"I need it even more than I did earlier. That ache's only gettin' worse," you purred, reaching down between the two of you to grab his already hard cock. "Feel's like y'might be, too."

He sucked in a breathe when he felt your fingers on his length. "Yeah, y'ain't the only one achin' now. I been like this all goddamn day thanks'ta you," he said in a roughly seductive tone.

"Don't worry," you purred palming his cock through his pants. "Y'took care of me, an' I'm gonna do the same for you." You gave his cock another generous squeeze as you smiled up at him.

"I know y'will, darlin'.. But, right now, I wanna watch ya do yerself." He drawled, pulling his hat off, throwing it on the table before reaching down to unbutton his pants.

"Mmm," you purred, feeling a jolt of arousal surge through you as he said that. "Is that so?"

"Yes ma'am." He licked his lips. "Wanna see how good y'look with them fingers inside yerself."

"Wanna help me get these off then, cowboy?" You bit your lip, spreading your legs for him.

The soft glow from the lantern was the only think that was illuminating his face. You pulled your hand away from his crotch, reaching down to unbutton your own pants. Neither of you could wait much more, so you walked over to the small table that the lantern sat on, and you hoisted yourself up on it. Now you were almost level with Arthur as he turned to face you. You kicked off your boots and stared up at him with a lustful eye.

Arthur stepped between your legs, his cock brushing against your thigh through his slacks as he reached for the tops of your pants to pull them off of you. You brush your fingers against his erection again, watching him shudder as he felt your touch. You slipped your hand into his pants, lowering them enough so his length could spring forward. You gripped it, pressing your thumb into the head, feeling that it was already slick from arousal. Arthur grunted, pressing his hips upward into your grasp, wanting to prolonge the feeling.

He threw your pants to the ground when he finally got them down to your ankles, his hand immediately going for your sex, making your body writhe on the spot. You hadn't even thought it was possible for you to be even more sensitive than you were earlier that day, but you were. A shockwave of pleasure ran rampant through you at the first feeling of his fingers against your folds again, it was desperately missed. He ran his finger lightly down the outside of your slit, the sensation forcing you to lift your hips to him. You slid your hand down along his throbbing shaft, making him groan slightly. He pressed his fingers into your wet folds, instantly soaking his fingers as they entered you.

"Goddamn, girl," Arthur grunted. "I ain't never felt a woman that stayed this wet."

You reached up as Arthur still had his fingers inside of you, pumping them lightly in and out of you. You unbuttoned your shirt just enough to expose your breasts to him. He let out a pleasurable sigh as he saw them, reaching out to cup one in his hands as he brushed a nipple with his thumb, watching it harden at his touch.

"Well, thanks to you, I'm even worse off than I was earlier. I couldn't stop thinkin' 'bout it," you whined.

You moaned, pulling your hips up again to grind against his hand, needing even more relief than before.

"What was ya thinkin' 'bout?" He purred, pulling his fingers out of you, placing them around his own cock now, using your wetness on his fingers as lubrication.

"I was thinkin' 'bout the way you touched me," you said lowly.

You looked up at him, leaning back as you watched him stroke along his shaft as he watched you, twisting his hand over his head, then back down his entire length as cupped his balls with the other. You reached down between your legs, spreading them open further this time as you pressed your fingers into your mound, whimpering, feeling a whole new wave of wetness and throbbing coming on as you got even more aroused at the fact that Arthur was pleasuring himself while he watched you do the same to yourself. He reached out to touch your breasts again, making you hiss at all these overwhelming sensations you were feeling all at once.

"Christ, y'got a pretty body, gal" he grunted, still pumping his hand along his cock. "Keep talkin', darlin'."

You gasped, pushing your fingers inside your folds until you reached your swollen clit, you rubbed small circles around it. "I was thinkin' 'bout how you touched me like this.. How good it felt. S'kept me goin' all day, an' seein' you cum for me, Arthur.. Jesus.."

He groaned, cutting his eyes up to yours, dangerously. "I been thinkin' 'bout it too, an' 'bout how warm an' wet that pussy'a yers is.. The way ya came all over my fingers for me."

"Uh-huh." Your moans began to increase, along with the pace of your fingers. "S'got me thinkin' 'bout finishin' on your cock.. Do y'wanna fuck me, Arthur?"

Arthur's gritted his teeth, letting out a louder grunt as he listened to you. "I do, darlin."

"How bad?" you breathed, lifting your hips up to brush your pussy against his cock.

"Bad, darlin'. Been thinkin' 'bout fuckin' you long before all this." He ran his free hand along your chest, pulling your shirt open even more to fondle your breasts. "Been jerkin' off to the thought of it."

You looked up at him, almost in surprise that he was admitting that to you. You bit your lip, pulling your hands away from yourself to wrap them around his neck, scooting yourself forward on the table.

He narrowed his eyes at you, a downright animalistic look coming over him as he grabbed the back of your hair with his hand, bringing your head forward to kiss you again. His other hand guided his cock towards your entrance, rubbing the head of it against your clit.

The two of you moaned, and your arms shot forward, wrapping around his shoulders as he pushed himself inside of you. Both of you shuddered, tangling yourselves together. Arthur let go of your hair as he reached down, pushing both of his hands beneath your ass to lift you up ass while he thrust inside of you.

"Y-Yes," you choked out. "Please."

"This watcha want?" He growled, squeezing your ass in his hands, slamming his hips into yours. "Huh? Answer me."

"Come on, do it then," you demanded. "Fuck me, right here on this table. Make me cum on your cock this time, Arthur. Make me feel like you did earlier," you begged.

You wrapped your arms around him, latching onto him however you could as he pumped himself in and out of you without restraint. Arthur grunted, ducking his head down for his mouth to find your breast, running his tongue over one of your nipples before taking it into his mouth completely as  he grazed his teeth over it to send you into a frenzy.

You threw tour head back, crying out as he completely had his way with you. Your breath had become labored and shakey as he bottom out inside of you over and over. You could feel that familiar knot tightening up in the pit of tour stomach now, your walls began to grip tighter and tighter around his cock, making his thrusts become erratic.

"Jesus Christ, y'feel so good, (Y/N)," he moaned, pressing his forehead against yours, his hair was tousled and messy as it hung down in his face.

"How good?" you whined, gasping for your breath, looking up at him wantonly, desperate for his praise. "Tell me how good I am, daddy."

"So goddamn good," he growled in a guttural tone. "Good fuckin' girl."

You writhed involuntarily, grinding yourself back against him now as your orgasm was stampeding towards you like a bull. There was no control over it this time. You were gonna come, and you could tell it wasn't going to be any small climax.

"Fuck, Arthur." You gritted your teeth as your toes began to curl up. You could even feel tears begin to well up in your eyes at the overstimulation you were receiving.

"Y'gone come for me?" He snarled, pulling one of his hands up to grab your face.

"Y- ye- yes," you gasped, struggling to say anything over your moans and pleading cries as felt your starting to come.

You dug your nails roughly into him, causing him to hiss in pain as he rammed his cock even harder into you. You were sure that you had to break the skin of his back in some places, even through his shirt. He gripped your face harder, forcing you to look up at him as you came completely undone for him. He moaned, on the verge of his own release as he watched you coming for him over and over.

He wasn't fit to last any longer once you looked into his eyes, silently pleading with him to finish with you. He shuddered into you as came, and you could feel his release as it flooded you inside.

"That's my girl," he cooed, praising you as the two of you rode out your orgasm.

It took a minute for you to full register what happened. You vision was blurry, and you were a trembling mess as you held onto him.

"Sonuvabitch," you breathed roughly, laying your head down to his chest.

You were completely and utterly exhausted at this point, and you were sure that if you stood up, you'd actually collapse into a crumpled heap on the floor.

"Y'can say that again," Arthur said, trying to catch his own breath as he pulled himself out of you, with his and your release running out of you, making a mess out of the table and your thighs.

"Don't let go'a me," you sighed, still hanging onto his shoulders.

"Y'alright, darlin'?" He asked, using one hand to steady you, and the other to get his pants back up.

You looked up at him with a weak smile, giving him a nod. "Very. I'm just exhausted now."

"Guessin' Y'don't want round three tonight then?" He chuckled, brushing your hair behind your ear.

You shook your head. "Ask me again tomorrow."

"Might have'ta hold ya to that'un." He smiled, buttoning your shirt back up for you. "Let's git'ya back to camp."

After he got your shirt buttoned, he reached down, grabbing your pants off the floor, still hanging onto you as he helped you steady yourself as you stood up. Luckily, you didn't crumple, but your legs were shaking like leaves in the wind, but Arthur kept you standing upright as he helped you get your pants back on.

You turned to him, laying a hand on his chest once you finally got your clothes back on. "Thank you for all of this, Arthur," you said.

"No need to thank me for somethin' I wanted to do anyway, darlin'." he shrugged.

You nodded at him with a smile as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, kissing him once more.

[deputy-ripley-adams-blog]

I think you're the most beautiful man in the world

Morgan/Female Reader (smut)

I love my cowboy 💛

You could watch him for hours and sometimes you tried to, but most times he could feel your eyes on him and he'd catch you staring at him like some love sick puppy. Every time he caught you he'd give you one of those bashful smiles and messed with his hat as he bowed his head at you in greeting, you did what your instinct told you to do which was to retreat as quick as you could. Arthur Morgan was one of the most handsome men you had ever set your eyes on. The sad thing about this was that Arthur never seemed to know how handsome he was, many times you had heard him put himself down or compare himself to other men, you wished with all your heart to just tell him all the things you thought about him. Thinking about telling him is easy enough but actually telling him to his face was almost impossible, last time you had gone to tell him he had been sat on his cot, the button up shirt he wore was partly open and he had smiled softly at you with his journal in hand. You had started panicking instantly and as he had reached out for you to help, you ran out of his tent with a shout of 'goodnight!' despite it being only midday. The girls had been relentless about your last encounter, the fact you had screamed goodnight at a man for smiling at just 12 o'clock in the afternoon was the most hilarious thing in the world. Karen always offered to tell him for you and you are pretty sure that Mary-Beth is basing the new novel she's writing on your misfortune and pining, the only supportive one had been Abigail - she often sat with you and just talked about love and about knowing if someone was the one. And to you he was. Arthur Morgan was the love of your life and he didn't know and at this rate he was most likely never going to know.

You screamed into your pillow loudly. You had opted to spend the night at the Valentine hotel, you needed a pity party for yourself and this what you chose to do, you had a bar of chocolate and a bottle of whiskey on the bed you lay on, the pillow was pressed to your face as you face planted into it on arrival. At that all the other things on your mind crashed down on you, how sad did you look staying in a hotel on your own? You honestly felt like the saddest and most pathetic woman in the world, which you were - pining after a man who had only offered you small talk and smiles. But boy were those smiles something.

Knock Knock

You ignore it at first but then the banging becomes relentless and the door shakes as the door is pounded on. When the door handles starts being twisted you decide that it was probably smart to answer before that seedy hotel clerk busted the door down. Groaning you lift your head off the pillow and look towards the door, using the most polite voice that you can seemingly muster during your mental crisis you respond to the person who keeps knocking in hard taps,

"Sir I only want the room - no baths or anyone or anything needed thank you,"

The person on the other side stops their banging but their shadow doesn't leave from behind the door, "Y/N? You in there?"

You're pretty sure your eyes almost pop out of your head, quickly you lift yourself off the bed and look at the mirror, your hair is unruly from the pillow screaming and the shirt you're wearing is crumpled to pieces, you're also only in your underwear. The door handle is tugged again with a concerned call of your name. With a silent scream to yourself you pull at the shirt as if that'll help make it cover more of you and you open the door.

Arthur stood on the other side, he was shifting as he waited. He was in a soft,blue union shirt with the buttons undone, you had to control yourself and avoid looking at the exposed skin of his chest, that would be a key weakness and you had only your room to run into this time. There was no way past him if you wanted to bolt forward anyway. Arthur took up pretty much the whole door way with his bulk. He looked worried and slightly annoyed, his hair was damp near his ears and his neck was flushed which gave off the impression that he had been running around or striding quickly in his usual sort of movement.

"What are you doing here? Is something wrong back at camp?" Your fingers gripped the door hard as you looked up at him, his chest was heaving slightly and you watched as his hand lifted to point right at you.

"What are you doing here? You didn't tell anyone where the hell you were?"

You had. You had told all the girls, you had told Mrs. Grimshaw and hell you even told Hosea who had suggested the idea in the first place.

"I did Arthur - I'm surprised no-one else told you I was here,"

He took a breath as he stopped his pointing only to cross his arms, he seemed annoyed which you couldn't understand so your grip on the door only tightened.

"You didn't tell me,"

Your eyes widen as you stare at him, "I have to tell you that I'm going to book a hotel?"

That caught him off guard, his whole body seemed to tense at your question, in typical Arthur fashion he bowed his head and shifted as if unsure of what to do with himself. When he looked back at you his mouth was in a straight line and his eyes flickered to you and then to your room as he tried to peer in.

"Arthur I'm fine, I'm just going to spend the night here and then I'll be back at camp in the morning,"

"Look I - I just wanted to make sure you was safe is all - could hear ya screamin from the other side - almost kicked the damn thing down - ya got someone in there with ya? He ain't hurting ya is he?"

He heard your pillow tantrum? Your face erupts into a deep blush as you look at the concern on his face, he averted your eyes when he saw your reaction but that didn't stop him from trying to look back in the room as if expecting the mystery man to reveal himself anytime soon.

"I - I - I'm alone! It's just me!"

Arthur didn't look convinced. He was a clear example of someone's reaction to listening to absolute bullshit. With a nod at you, he puts his hand near his holster and taps his fingers against his gun, "Then I guess ya won't mind me havin a little look then,"

You stammer as Arthur carefully manoeuvres you out of the way and pushes himself into the hotel room, you watch as his eyes scan the premise for any danger before settling on the crumpled cushion and the goodies on the bed. When he turns back to you his eyes widen when he takes you all in and you then realise that before you had been able to smartly conceal yourself behind the door, but now you were completely exposed - Arthur had been given a clear view of your underwear and the hairs on your body stood on end as he gave you a quick once over. He lets out an embarrassed cough as he adverts his eyes and with that you return to your previous seat on the bed and thrust the pillow into your lap as you cross your legs to hide yourself.

"See I'm fine,"

"I can see that,"

The room feels really warm now and you glance at the window thinking of a new escape plan.

"Doesn't explain the screamin though does it?"

You laugh slightly, which comes out as an awkward set of cough as you stammer again, "I - I - I just had to have a little moment. To ge - get it out of my system! Just a good old scream and cry to get the juices flowing,"

"Somethin the matter?"

You thought about his question, and all you wanted to do was scream yes at him as he stared down at you, you think about telling him but with him looking at you with those eyes you throat tightens. But this was your chance and like Abigail had said - you had to take it eventually. Besides if you didn't what were the chances that Mary Linton was finally going to get Arthur crawling back to her, her letters were more consistent and of course Arthur went back to her to help. If you didn't speak now you were going to lose him.

"Can you turn around?"

"Excuse me?"

"Just I got something I want to say but I need you turn around please,"

Arthur gives a bemused smile but does as you ask, his back faces you now and you stare at how broad it is, "Ya coulda just said my ugly mug was botherin ya,"

You knew it was supposed to come out as a joke, but you knew he wasn't, and that was the trigger point for you.

"I hate it when you say stuff like that, I hate it because it's far from true,"

"Y/N I w-"

Arthur begins to turn around but you quickly interject to stop him, "Turn around please! I'm not done," he twists his body back round thankfully, but his back is tense as he stands stiff.

"Arthur. God I thought it would be easier with you turned around! I - ah - I -"

"What?"

"I think you're beautiful Arthur,"

He snorts at that.

"I really do! I think you're one of the most beautiful men I've ever seen! And - and not just based on what you look like! You - you're kind and strong - I - I've seen how much you help others and how compassionate you are whether it's with the others or your horse and - and -"

You stumble on your words, something wet hits your hand and you realise you're crying, Arthur stills stand stiff still as he listens to you and seeing the reality of what you're doing you let out a choked sob, as quickly as you can you throw yourself off the bed and go for the door. Before you can reach for the handle the door is slammed shut in front of your face, bracing for impact you brace your hands against the door to prevent yourself from running face first into it, you lean your forehead in defeat against the cold of the wood as you continue to sob. Arthur is directly behind you, his hand braced above you to keep the door closed, his chest is against your back and you shift at how warm he is, you almost tremble as he leans into you so his face is closer to the top of your head.

"Ya had more to say?"

"I - I - I can't!"

"You can,"

"Arthur - I - I really can't,"

"I ain't letting you leave till you do,"

With shaky breaths you push your head further into the door, your nails dig into the wood as you try and focus on what to say, "I don't want you to hate me or be angry - I know you wouldn't be - but I don't want you to - to not talk to me again,"

"That'll never happen you know that,"

"I do,"

"Then just tell me, ya got something on your mind, ya have for a while now so just get it all out and then maybe ya can stop running away from me every damn time I go to talk to ya,"

With deep breaths you try and calm the beating of your heart, the thumping of it echoes in your ear drums and the pressure of Arthur breathing against your back isn't helping things.

"I - I -"

"It's okay darlin,"

Was it okay? It was too late to consider that because the long waited words had finally slipped out of your mouth and they came out loud and clear, "I love you Arthur,"

Time stands still. All you can hear is the frantic beating of your own heart and the small choked sobs that escape you every once in a while, Arthur is silent and you press further into the door as the tears start to fall more freely. You watch as Arthur's hands fall from the door, you watch as they seem to twitch before disappearing from view and then the unexpected happens when those fallen hands settle on your hips, his hands are unsure as he holds you but they're warm and steady when he pulls you towards him so his chin can rest on the top of your hair. You can feel the warmth on his breath against your head and you frown in confusion as he sighs against you.

"You know how long I've been waitin to hear that?"

Blinking your tears away you try and turn to look at him but he keeps you planted in front of him, "What?"

"Been waitin for you to say it first, I wanted to - god I've wanted to tell you since the damn party for Shaun but I - god I'm a coward,"

"You a coward? You're anything but Arthur, besides I was the one running away from you all the time,"

"You were, cutest damn run I've ever seen,"

You let out a hiccupy laugh and smile as you feel his chest rumble with laughter against your back, "You laughing at my well thought out escape plans?"

"Hmmm perhaps, saw how ya were lookin at that window earlier,"

You let a choked grumble as you fidget in his grasp, he laughs a bit louder and hugs you tighter, your hands remove themselves from the door and you grab at his hands that now intersect at your stomach. You stroke at the scar on his knuckle and he sighs softly against the top of your head, you writhe in his grasp as you try and spin yourself around in order to look at his face. He relinquishes his grasp ever so slightly so you can pivot and place your hands on his chest, now you can freely stare at his exposed skin and you almost snort at your small victory to be able to finally look at him like this and not feel like a creep. When you look at him he's staring right back at you with such an adoring expression, your face feels warm as he moves his hands to hold the small of your back, your own hands have moved from his chest to cup at his face. He's let his beard grow out a bit, a bit thicker than his usual stubble but it suits him all the same, your fingers trace his cheeks softly and gently touch at the tufts of hair that have fallen from under his hat, the curls just ended under his ears and you touch one as you breathe him in. The lingering smell of tobacco and sweat clings to his form, when you glance back at him his eyes are closed as he sighs, when he opens them again he smiles when he realises your eyes are on him again.

"What does this mean Arthur?"

He sighs as he spreads his fingers over your back and leans in so he can look you in the eyes, "Guess it means - my tent is gonna be a bit more crowded,"

You shake your head with a smile as you cup his cheeks in your hands, "What if I want to stay in my own tent?"

"Sorry ma'am I can't allow that,"

With a boisterous grin that lit up his face he picks you up which causes you to squeal loudly as he tosses you onto the bed, you bounce several times and you laugh when he fails to dodge the pillow you toss at him. You go for another one but he's on you in seconds, straddling your waist as he holds your wrists in his hands.

"Ma'am I'm gonna have ta ask ya to drop the pillow,"

Pouting you do and he snickers as you flinch when he starts tickling the palms of your hands with his fingers. Then you realise the position you're in with him leaning over you like that, he must realise it too, his grips loosens but he doesn't let go and he doesn't remove himself from your waist. His jaw tenses as he watches you, only one of his hands hold your wrists in place - the other cups your cheek and you can't help but lean into the warmth of it. Your stomach is filled with butterflies and your heart pounds, there's still that small fear of rejection but the feeling of love and want for him is overwhelming in comparison.

"Arthur I - I want-"

"I know,"

With that he grabs his hat and tosses it onto the nearby bed stand, and then he leans down and kisses you softly, his lips press ever so gently and sigh against his mouth as he presses a bit harder. Your hands flex in his grip wanting nothing more than to run your hands through his hair and down his back, he doesn't let go and the hand that once cupped your cheek moves to stroke the column of your neck. He pulls away after a few more quick kisses and looks at you, his hands trace your neck and then linger at your collarbones, his eyes flick from your own to your shirt and you get the message soon enough.

"It's okay,"

Nodding at you several times he releases your grip and leans back so you can sit up, your hands hold the hem of your shirt and you look at Arthur to make sure he's watching you: he is. Slowly you lift the edge of you shirt upwards, revealing the skin of your stomach and the outline of your ribs. You had nothing underneath, as you had plans to be alone the whole day so had no need to wear anything else in the room, Arthur isn't expecting to see you completely bare as his eyes widen comically when your shirt is fully removed and you're front is exposed to him. His eyes take in you all in and you fight the instinct to cover yourself as his eyes go from your stomach to your breasts and then back to your face. He coughs several times as if he is unable to formulate any sort of speech, which causes him to swear under his breath as he darts his eyes from your form to your eyes. With slow movements he shuffles closer onto the bed so he can reach a hand to touch you, he retracts at first as if unsure but when you smile softly at him he continues and cups a breast in his hand, his hand covers the whole of breast in a soft squeeze and you can't stop the small moan that leaves your lips.

"You're beautiful - god - I don't even deserve to be touching you like this. God! even seeing you like this - I don't -"

You move your hands to hold the back of his neck and you thread them together, "You do Arthur," with that you kiss him again.

The kiss is more heated this time around, his lips crash into your own desperately as if he couldn't get enough, one of his hand holds your breast giving the occasional squeeze and pinch, the other hand moves to the small of your back, slowly teasing downwards as if unsure if he can touch you further. You gasp when he pinches at your nipple and uses his fingers to cause them to harden almost painfully, as soon as your mouth parts open the warmth of his tongue invades, he licks at the roof of your mouth then to your own tongue as he kisses you like a dying man. Your hands are in his hair, tugging at the curls to bring him closer to you, he groans at every pull you do and his kisses become more confident. With shaky hands you push gently at his chest, Arthur chases your lips as you pull away, but when you refuse to kiss him again he stops and lets his nose brush against your own as he pants with you.

"This needs to go," your command is shaky as you try and regain your breath, your hands pulls at the blue fabric of his shirt.

"I'm not sure you want to see this sweetheart - I ain't as young as I used to be - not got much to offer,"

"Please,"

He does take it off, slowly and unsure but he does remove it. His chest is as broad and as perfect as you imagined, hair tufts  on his chest and more hair leads downwards to the edge of his trousers. He has some scars on his shoulders and ear his ribs but he is still stunning to you. Your hand traces his ribs and you repeat and up and down stroking motion on his chest, which causes him to sigh heavily. He's not skinny by all means, but he's thick and bulky, with strong arms and a presence of just pure strength.

"Like I said before, you're the most beautiful man I've ever seen,"

You press soft kisses to his chest as you rub the slightly red skin near his collarbones, he groans when your breasts connect with his bare chest and he can feel your nipples harden up against him. He leans in to kiss you again but you stop him with a hand over his mouth.

"If you want to continue you have to say I'm right,"

You almost laugh at the frown that takes over his features as he looks down at you, he's reluctant you can tell but you know he'll say it, whether he likes the idea or not. Pressing his forehead to your own he looks you in the eyes and you remove your hand and wait.

"You're right,"

Smiling brightly at him you loops your hands around his neck and with a laugh drag him back down on top of you, he immediately connects your mouth together in frenzied wet kisses as his hands brace themselves over you so he wouldn't crush you. The hair on his chest tickles you and you laugh in-between kisses, your fingers continue to pull at the strands of his hair as you melt under Arthur's touch. You notice how he keeps moving against you, the hardness of him presses against you, you look at him with heated eyes and he gives you another kiss before moving from your lips to your neck. He presses wet kisses from your throat down to your breast where he kisses at the bud of your nipple, your hands grasp at his hair as he latches him mouth onto it and suckles, breathy moans escape your lips as his other hand cradles your unoccupied one. Fingers tease at your left nipple, whilst his mouth continues to suckle at your right one, you groan when he pulls away and he offers small licks as an apology to the sore bud. His kisses and nips travel downwards, from your stomach to the plush of your thighs and then he stops as he hovered over your clothed sex. With a look at you for permission in which you nod quickly, he delivers a long lick to the cloth of your panties, one of his hands grabs the flesh of your left thigh as he spreads your leg so he can move closer to the silk of your underwear. Eventually he stops his teasing to pull at the clothing and yank it away off you, it lands somewhere on the floor but before you can worry about your lost underwear he is back in-between your thighs as he licks at you again. Your hands grab at the sheets of the mattress as you cry loudly as he drinks you in, his hands soothe at your thighs and keep them open, preventing you from closing them around his head to bring him in closer. His tongue plunges in and out of you and the tickle of his facial hair only stimulate the feeling further as he presses his face so hard into you. Occasionally, he'll pull back and let his tongue trace over the lips of your vagina before sticking it back into your folds causing you to moan out gibberish as you writhe under him. You scream when one of his hands moves from your thigh to play with your clit, he rubs slowly and finally he allows himself to tease a finger into your opening. You sigh in relief when the first finger enters you but before long when he slips in the second you're writhing against his hand trying to push his digits deeper inside you, he sucks hard at your clit and soon enough the heat in your stomach becomes too much, you don't want to finish so soon so you try and move yourself away from his mouth. Arthur only groans and tries to pull you back to him, but you don't relent much to his disappointment as he continues to drag you back to him.

"Arthur! Stop! I - I - just not yet! Please!

With a sigh against your clit which causes you to shiver he moves back, with a slow and steady movement he withdraws his fingers from you. With a few kisses to your thigh he sits up between your legs and looks you in the eyes as he brings one to his mouth and licks. You bring your hands to your face in embarrassment as he does this and all he does is laugh at you, when you peek from behind your fingers you see that his hands are twitching patiently at his sides and you flush brightly at the wet around his mouth and how it shines across his lips. Your eyes drag from his mouth to his crotch which his hands are twitching by, he presses uncomfortably from what you can see judging by the hard outline of himself.

"Off,"

With fumbling hands Arthur removes his trousers, he pauses at his last garment of clothing, he presses hard and thick against the cloth and you sigh in anticipation as he pulls it off himself. He hisses as the fabric brushes against him, but when he's completely free from the confining material he groans softly. When you reach out for him to repay the favour, he waves a hand at you.

"I'm good ta go darlin, just need to know if you are,"

You nod at him and he nods back at you in silent understanding. His hand holds the base of himself as he strokes slowly, he shuffles himself forward in the process so your legs spread wider to accommodate him. He groans as he touches himself as he stares directly at you, with his hand he lines himself up with you, your legs wrap around his waist and he drapes over you so his mouth is a breath away from your own. He twitches against your opening and you moan as you wrap your arms around his neck, his free hand holds himself over you as he stares deep into your eyes.

"Are you sure you really want this darlin?"

Smiling up at him with watery eyes you kiss him quickly, "I do. Have done for a while,"

He kisses you softly as he smiles back at you, "Me too,"

Arthur shifts closer and your arms wrap around his neck hard as he shifts against your entrance, you choke on your breath when he slowly pushes in. He's a lot bigger than you could have imagined, it hurts for a moment but you feel complete when he fully settles inside of you. His hand releases himself after guiding himself inside you and instead grabs at your thigh and brings you in closer so he's connected deeply inside you. Your breath is shaky against his mouth which his parted open in short breaths as he stills for a moment, he waits for you to shift your hips before he starts moving. You drag him back down to your lips as he moves against you, he moves slowly but deeply inside you as he grinds you into the mattress, the kisses are less coordinated but filled with passion as you cling to him hard. His slow motions have resorted to deep thrusts that have you clinging hard onto his back as he moves harder and deeper inside you, with a hard kiss to your mouth he pulls away and presses his face into your neck as he pulls out completely and thrusts himself back into you hard. You scream and dig your nails into his back as he repeats the motions, the speed and strength as his thrusts increases as he moans into your neck and at the drag of your nails against the wet of his back. He mouths breathlessly at your neck and kisses hotly at any bit of skin he can get to, you grip him like a life line as his thrusts become relentless, they shake your body as your breasts press hard against his chest, the drag of his chest against your nipples heightens the feeling in your stomach drastically.

"Arthur - Arthur!"

You cry his name as he pounds into you, he groans your own name into your ear before clamping his teeth into the junction of your neck as he rocked into you, you gasp as the feeling in your stomach returns and your toes curls as you cling to him, Arthur groans as you tighten around him and releases your neck to kiss you again as the hand on your thigh drops to touch your clit. He rubs quick, hard circles as he kisses you hard and you wail loudly as he hits just the right spot.

"It's okay darlin - come on - you can do it,"

He pinches hard at your clit in-between frenzied thrusts, and with a cry of his name you orgasm, shaking hard against him as you tighten your grip around him. Arthur groans loudly into your neck and curses as he shifts so he can angle deeper, his hand leaves your clit to pull your leg over his shoulder as he frantic thrusts push into you, when you moan his name he dives forward crash his lips into your own and groans loudly into your mouth as he releases inside you. You coo at him as he shakes above you, your hands stroke over the muscles of his back and your legs cling to his hips. You kiss him softly as you hold him close, he returns your kisses with the same softness and you almost start crying again as he whispers multiple 'I love yous' against your lips, you just kiss him harder and smile at him whispering the same thing. When he pulls out of you, you both gasp at the feeling causing the hand holding Arthur up to drop , in which he collapses on top of you. Your hands stroke at his hair, which is damp with perspiration, you leave tender kisses to the top of his head as he shuffles downwards to lie against your breasts. 

"You sure this is okay?"

"More than okay sweetheart," Arthur kisses your chest softly as he tiredly raises his eyes to meet yours.

As your hands play with hair you think back to earlier on, "I'm still surprised no-one told you I was here,"

"Oh they did,"

Your hands freeze at your ministrations and Arthur groans at that, "Then why did you lie? Why were you so angry?"

"Karen told me you was with a man,"

Of course, you think, Karen was the one of all people to start trouble.

"You must have been surprised that I wasn't,"

"I was thankful - meant I still had a chance,"

"You always will with me Arthur,"

You both smile at each other, and with an over exaggerated yawn from him he drops his face suddenly back into your chest which causes you to laugh loudly with surprise.

"That means no more runnin away darlin,"

"And that means no more insults about yourself, you're beautiful,"

"Hmmm - you're right. I must be something special to end up with someone like you,"

[four2andnew]

Wrapped 2022

Thank you @gryffindorhealer for the tag! Finally getting around to this, only a week into the new year and several days after the tag, lol

Post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular)

Comfortable - I feel like this was probably my most cohesive fic and I just really love the soft, warm vibes

Everything - born out of a frustration after reading a whole slew of angsty fics where Harry and Ginny dance around each other after the Battle, this one was satisfying to write because I finally got all my feelings about two fictional characters' intimate relationship worked out.

Softer - Short 'n' Sweet, a real life conversation between myself and the hubs turned fanfic for all the other mothers out there struggling with that weird not-hating-your-body-but-it-not-feeling-comfortable-anymore feeling

Weasley Pub Nights - I laughed out loud way too much writing this one

Cat and Mouse - I know the ending fell flat, but this was the fic I was finally brave enough to start sharing my writing with the world. It will always be special.

Your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year

A Rose in Winter - an Edwardian AU based on a novel of the same name. No horcruxes, Voldemort dies and the Death Eaters spend the next seventeen years licking their wounds before starting up their campaign again. The Weasleys are on the brink of total poverty after several horrible events and their ever expanding family. They decide to offer up Ginny for marriage to help ease the financial burden (I promise this isn't a Weasley-bashing fic!). Ginny's hand is awarded to Lord Potter, the recently returned to the country young Lord who hides behind a mask to cover all the scars left behind when Voldemort tried murder him. Predictably, Ginny is pissed, drama ensues.

Taken - Voldemort never created horcruxes and dies that Halloween, but that doesn't mean his Death Eaters disappeared too - they simply changed tactics and took over the Ministry through calculated political maneuvers (I'm sensing a theme, lol). The Order of the Phoenix works underground to rescue and educate Muggleborns and occasionally throw a kink in the new regime's plans. When pureblood women from notorious Blood-Traitor families start disappearing, the Order scrambles to infiltrate the Death Eaters and figure out what is happening to these young women.

Fade In/Fade Out - based on the song of the same name by Nothing More, a collection of Father/Son moments between Ron and Arthur

Their Most Closely Guarded Secret - I'm not actually sure I'll share this one. It deals with themes that are pretty controversial and frankly I felt icky writing it, BUT it pushed me out of my comfort zone and I think my writing is better for it.

Your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year

Simply sharing it. I've written stories (both original and fanfic) for nearly two decades now, but only now have felt brave enough to share my work. If that isn't the biggest improvement, I don't know what is.

More details. My early writing reads very much like a bare bones movie script, very dialogue heavy and not much in way of scene setting. No ambiance at all

Uh....actually creating an outline. Not that I use them, but hey, I made them!

Your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year

Run on Sentences. Apparently, I ramble a lot and it shows in my writing.

Better planning/outlining. My current outlines are pretty useless, hence why they don't get used, haha

And your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year

The (two) lines that spurred me to actually start sharing my stuff:

For now, he fucks her in the room of nightmares where no one ever will know.

And she lets him because she isn’t in love with him, but dammit if she isn’t attracted to him.

Thanks for reading :)

[eolewyn1010]

For October 3, I'll go with another two-parter. Because this is, like, a lot. Read with caution because this day's bit is where the author's values dissonance has sent me running for the hills, yelling obscenities. Here there be talk of sexual assault. Thanks, Stoker. 1/2:

Jack storms into Renfield's cell to find the latter on the floor, bleeding all over the place because someone smashed his face on the fucking floor. And fractured his skull. And broke his spine. Man, Dracula has no chill. Jack and van Hellstoker do their best to stitch Renfield up, although for some reason Arthur and Quincey stand around, too, delaying urgent medical treatment. Whatever; the only reason they care for Renfield waking up before dying anyway is the information they want from him. They don't even give him narcotics, so poor Renfield actually wakes up. And he thinks something worse than death might await him. For a crushed brain that he claims to have, he gives a remarkably clear report of how Dracula's mind control kept him from saying why he was in such a hurry to get away and how Dracula promised Renfield lotsa rats', cats' and dogs' blood to drink if Renfield invited him into the house. Btw, van Hellstoker doesn't let this report divert him from having everyone know his vast knowledge of trivia, or from holding hands with Jack. *eyeroll* Of course, Dracula didn't make good on his promise because he had to go and have a Mina sip - Renfield even smells her perfume on Dracula when the latter returns to Renfield's cell.

Next time Renfield chatted with Mina because she's a sweetheart and still visits him for smalltalk, he noticed what the entire dude squad failed to notice, that she is definitely a vampire snack by now. And next time Dracula stumbled in, Renfield, our respectable little lunatic, attacked a fucking vampire lord with bare hands to protect Mina. Bless. His. Heart. Of course, Dracula made a meat loaf out of his face. The dude squad, having learned all they wanted to know, leave Renfield alone to die because they are assholes, and run towards the Harkers' bedroom after arming themselves with their anti-vampire stuff again. Well, "run". Van Hellstoker takes a break just before they enter to hold yet another speech. Quincey makes me laugh at this worst of all times by pointing out: "It is unusual to break into a lady's room!" Oh, honey.

Door is crashed open, and there it is, the scene for which I wanna desecrate Stoker's grave. Or rather, for the way he presents the scene. Jonathan is lying on the bed, knocked out and helpless - I think Dracula had another sip of him, too, because he has trouble breathing. (Jack, the idiot, says Dracula's face is turned away from them but they all recognized him by the forehead scar Jonathan gave him? That makes zero sense!) And Mina is kneeling on the edge of the bed, the Count holding her head to his chest and force-feeding her some of his blood.

*deep inhale*

This is an assault. You could argue that it's not a sexual assault, but people who have been through force-feeding liken it to rape. And there is the imagery Stoker is using, and I have a hard time to believe that he is not using it consciously. How Dracula holds Mina's arms so she cannot push him away, how he has a grip on her neck. This is horrible. This is fucking disgusting. And these are the words Stoker puts in the mouth of the character who's witness to the scene: "The attitude of the two had a terrible resemblance to a child forcing a kitten's nose into a saucer of milk to compel it to drink."

*another deep inhale*

A CHILD FORCING A KITTEN TO DRINK MILK??? YOU WRITE WHAT BOILS DOWN TO A RAPE SCENE, AND NOW YOU COME UP WITH THAT KITTEN COMPARISON AND THINK THAT MAKES IT OKAY?? YOU THINK JUST BECAUSE YOUR AUTHOR'S AVATAR MADE FUN OF THE IDEA OF LIKENING BLOOD-GIVING TO SEX, THAT MEANS I BELIEVE IT? AFTER ALL YOU HAVE DONE TO ESTABLISH DRACULA AS THIS EVIL SENSUAL FOREIGNER WHO IS OUT TO STEAL THE INNOCENT WHITE PURE ENGLISH WOMEN, I AM SUPPOSED TO READ THIS IN A NON-SEXUAL CONTEXT?? WHAT THE FUCK IS EVEN WRONG WITH YOU, STOKER?!? YOU WROTE DRACULA AS A WALKING SEX METAPHOR! EVEN BACK WITH JONATHAN, THE IMPLICATION OF HIM HAVING BEEN MOLESTED IN THIS WAY WAS ALWAYS THERE!! AND NOW THAT YOU WRITE THIS HAPPENING TO MINA, YOU USE THIS LANGUAGE TO DESCRIBE IT? YOU ACT LIKE IT'S NOT TO BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY AS A GROSS VIOLATION OF MINA??

...it was at this point, esteemed reader, that I rage-quit.