#because (mostly) monochromatic shit felt easier

[benrybenrybenry-chr]

I have decided to be a silly little guy and finish a sketch like a maniac

WOOOOOOO <- hasn't finished a sketch in months I think

[sentientpaperbag]

So this not only ended up being longer than I meant, but most of it is lore related because I changed some stuff involving the lore of magic in this universe. So you get to learn about Dark and Light Husks a little more

Also i might have gone on a bit and rambled in the tags, whoops~

Under the cut!

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Zonta was tired. She’d gone a little overboard with the spellcasting practice. She just desperately wanted to get her spells right without causing too much trouble. She knew using Dark Magic was dangerous, and usually using it as much as she had would result in some form of permanent change in her appearance or even becoming a Dark Husk.

But... she hadn’t had any side effects. She was actually, weirdly enough, good at it. To her knowledge, every witch had a specific form of magic that they excelled in. For example, Zonta knew a nice girl who lived outside of town in the forest, and her specialty happened to be plant based, although she usually used mostly fungi.

Zonta, however, learned pretty quickly that she was very good with Dark Magic. It wasn’t necessarily forbidden, but it was frowned upon to use this kind of magic, due to the very dangerous consequences of overuse.

Zonta supposed it could be worse. She could be in the cult of Light Magic. Or she could be a Light Husk, those were far worse than a Dark Husk, and Zonta decided long ago that if she ever turned into a Husk, she’d go for the less depressing Dark version. At least that way she knew people would leave her alone.

“What exactly are Light Husks again?” Markus, who had come over to help her as best he could with her practice, had absolutely no idea how magic worked. Zonta liked being able to explain things to her friend, even if he didn’t really get it. She supposed it was only fair, however. After all, she hardly knew how werewolves worked and he had done his best to explain that all to her.

“Light Husks are people who used Light Magic. It’s far more powerful than Dark Magic,” she explained, “It’s also more unstable. If you have to use any kind of frowned upon or illegal magic, it’s better to use Dark instead of Light, even if people seem to be more scared of the former.”

“So since it’s unstable it’s easier to turn into a Husk, right?”

“Mm-hm,” Zonta sat down on the long couch in her living room, propping her feet on her friend’s legs as he sat down beside her, “Light Magic, being incredibly unstable and dangerous, usually tends to turn a person into a Husk pretty fast. You get like… the weirdest God complex, too. I went to a gathering with some other witches one time, and there was a Light Husk there in this like… I wanna call it a tube but it wasn’t really one. Anyway, they were in this anti-magic container thing, because if a Light Husk got loose, the world would probably be in a shit-ton of trouble. Light Husks have a whole cult following, cuz they’re usually thought of as godlike. It’s… really creepy, actually.”

“Yikes.”

“Exactly. Anyway, this Light Husk was a woman, probably like… three, four years older than us, and she’s all glowing and ethereal and it’s absolutely terrifying. But like… these people are coming up to the container and they’re asking questions and she’s answering them and her voice is absolutely mesmerizing. Really echo-y and unearthly. Honestly if she looked more like a horrifying creature made of eyes and flaming wheels and wings she could have passed as what people thought angels looked like. I don’t like it. People are obsessed with Light Husks.”

“I hope there’s not that many out there…,” Markus looked a little worried for a moment. Zonta smiled reassuringly at him, shaking her head.

“Nah, there’s like seven. After the seventh person turned into a Husk, people kinda realized that hey, this shit is dangerous and probably lethal, let’s not turn ourselves into ethereal beings of light and energy.”

Markus frowned, lost in thought for a moment. Zonta glanced out the window behind them, silently thinking her own private thoughts, mostly about how grateful she was that the two of them were comfortable with one another to talk about the less appealing sides of their abilities.

“What about Dark Husks? Are you worried about becoming one? If you use your magic too much, I mean,” Markus finally said.

“I mean, I used to worry about it. But I usually can feel when I’m going a little too far and I think that stops me from going overboard. So it should be fine, as long as I remember to take breaks and stuff. Gotta let my magic replenish or I would definitely turn into a Husk.”

“What do they usually look like?”

Zonta shuddered, thinking about the depressing forms she once saw roaming the countryside, “They look like ghosts. Or at least what I think ghosts look like. To my knowledge, Jason is the only one who can see the dead, and I’m too afraid to ask if they look like Dark Husks.

“But they like… they have hallow eyes and sunken cheeks, their bodies are usually thin and bony. Their whole body takes on a monochromatic color scheme that matches their magic. So, for example, if I turned into a Husk, my body would turn different shades of purple,” she explained, shrugging slightly.

Markus tried to envision that for a moment, furrowing his brows together. Zonta thought he looked cute when he tried to imagine something she explained. He usually looked very serious like that.

“You keep furrowing your eyebrows like that and you’ll get a crease in between them,” she teased. He relaxed his face, a small smile forming.

“I think you’d be a pretty color, but I also think you’d look scary if that happened,” Markus said.

“You think my magic color is pretty?” Zonta tried to stay calm, her heart fluttering. Usually her magic color bothered people. Magic usually was a bright color, but hers was a darker purple, almost an indigo of sorts.

“Well yeah. I mean… I think your magic is cool. And the color is kinda nice, it suits you.”

She smiled, “Thanks dude, that means a lot to me. Usually when people find out my magic color, they freak out. And then, when they find out I specialize in Dark Magic of all things, they start thinking I’m like, evil or something.”

“Do you know what kind of magic your dad did?”

She shook her head, “My mom said she can’t remember, and he left before I was born. She told me she just remembers what color his magic is. It’s red. I’ve never seen that color for magic before, it’s kinda unique. Like the dark purple for my magic. Guess weird colors run in the family.”

“Maybe he did Dark Magic like you and that’s why you’re good at it.”

“Haha, maybe.”

Zonta fought the urge to yawn, her eyes heavy. She wanted to keep talking to Markus, but she had really worn herself out practicing.

“You look tired, Hummingbird,” Markus said softly, “You should probably rest.”

“Nah, I’m.. fine,” she mumbled. She knew she needed to rest, she just didn’t want to.

“At least close your eyes. You can still talk to me, but with your eyes closed.”

She complied, closing her eyes. It was fine for a moment until she felt fingers gently brush across her face and her eyes shot open.

Markus looked embarrassed, “Ah, sorry. Should’ve said something. You had a stray hair in your face and it was bugging me. You can close your eyes again, I won’t do that without asking next time.”

She chuckled, shutting her eyes again. She tried not to think about how soft his fingers had been when they moved across her cheek.

“Your accent popped out for a minute there,” she said, laughing when Markus replied, “Howdy, ma’am,” in the most Texan accent she’d ever heard.

“Hey... If I fall asleep, don’t let me sleep too long. I have to make dinner for my mom when she gets home in a few hours. The flight she was supposed to work on next got cancelled or something, so she gets to come home for a few days,” Zonta mumbled, her words slurring a little as she felt sleep start taking over.

“Or, you could sleep and I could make your mom something. She knows you practice a lot and wear yourself out, I’m pretty sure she’d be fine with my cooking.”

“She liked that one thing your mom made,” Zonta replied, opening one eye slightly, “Those tamale things. They were really good.”

Markus grinned, “I told you. You didn’t wanna try them.”

“I didn’t wanna end up not liking them and disappoint you.”

“You could never disappoint me, Zonta,” Zonta felt her face heat up at how sincere he sounded. She opened her eyes fully, sitting up a little more and moving slightly so she was closer.

“That’s nice to know,” she said quietly, wondering if what she was feeling was genuine or just because it’d been so long since she’d dated that any form of kindness from a cute guy sent her into a romantic frenzy.

He smiled gently at her, pushing her slightly on her shoulder so she was lying back down, “You need to rest, Z. Close your eyes again.”

“Fine,” she mumbled, “Hey, you think you could you try teaching me Spanish again sometime?”

“Only if you try teaching me how to dance.”

Zonta snorted, “You have two left feet.”

“And you can’t roll your R’s.”

“That’s fair,” she laughed.

Her mind started wandering as she felt sleep start drifting over her again. Her mind drifted to thinking about what holding Markus’ hand would be like. It was such a specific thought, and she was fairly certain it was because she was a little touch starved, but she just wanted to hold his hand sometimes.

She was half tempted to say something, but felt herself grow nervous at the thought of asking, instead opting to stay quiet.

She felt herself drifting off to sleep, and she swore she heard Markus say something, but her mind was foggy and she was pretty out of it. She felt herself growing limp as sleep overtook her, and she hoped that maybe she’d have a decent dream for once instead of the weird and sometimes frightening dreams she commonly had.

Markus quietly and gently moved her so her legs weren’t on him anymore, and he found one of the small blankets she kept around the house, covering her with it. He smiled softly at her and walked into the other room to go find something to make for her and her mother when she returned home.

[crackedship]

Nursery Paint Wars

See my masterlist to read other chapters.

Feyre was living a dream.

Well, mostly, when she wasn't hit by dizziness or fatigue, heartburn or some morning sickness. But honestly, that was karma- she had bragged about feeling wonderful too soon.

She thought Lucien and Rhys would become unbearably fussy over her (which they did on the first two weeks after she told them), but after so many talks over dinner, lunch, late at night- just everytime they could, both of them understood she was not an invalid and the baby wouldn't just fall of her uterus because she was doing something like tying her shoes. Yes, they did insist on tying her shoes, even when her pregnant belly wasn't in the way yet.

She couldn't have asked for better people on her life. After her previous relationships, all the fights with her family, she found a home. A true home, where they laughed and loved and understand. They carried all the good and the bad together.

Her boyfriends even put up with her most crazy swings. In one second she was tired and in the next she was up and doing a dance party at 3 am. She was clingy and needy for her boyfriends, but then she was too hot and bothered to be around them. They had some dumb fights over stupid things.

But they laughed and did everything as she asked. They left her alone, fulfilled her kinks and most importantly bought her weird food at weird timing. So far, pickles proved to be a real craving, as the cheeseburgers. Also peanut butter ice cream, lemonades, carrot cupcakes, eggplant lasagna (that sounded gross, but cauldron it was so fucking delicious) and extra hot chicken wings.

At first she thought it would be sad because she couldn't get drunk for nine months, but it turned out she felt high all the time. Looking at her boyfriends faces, their happiness and care for her was all she could ever dream of. Feyre didn't know love could feel like this. It made her heart feel funny and she would tear up while staring at them.

It was a good thing she opened her galery with her friend Ressina, since all the doctor appointments, all the symptoms, were easier to deal with while working at home. She was about four months now- contrary to all other mom's out there, she refused to count it in weeks. It was too confusing and Rhys was more than happy to be extra and do that for her.

At this point, they could tell if it was a boy or a girl, but Feyre refused to know. Rhys and Lucien begged for her, saying it would kill them to not know and it would be much easier to call the baby he or she. But she just glared at her lovers, claiming it was not just for the surprise of it, but also because it didn't matter and she wanted the child to pick for themselves.

Now, alone and left to nothing much but her thinking, maybe she was being silly for almost snapping at them about it. But cauldron, didn't they all know how it was to be with a family that did not understand or accept them. She just didn't want to take any possibilities from her baby. 

She didn't want them to look back at their pictures and hate how it all was because it's pink for a girl or blue for a boy and that was the rule and nothing else was right or enough. So she picked to paint a huge mural on her firstborn bedroom instead of going boring and monochromatic. 

It took some days for them to decide what room would become the nursery. The house house had four bedrooms, one that turned into a studio for Feyre and other that had became an office for Rhys and Lucien. They could easily pick the guest bedroom, but the other two were closer to theirs, and she couldn't do much about her boyfriends plotting against her to pick their office.

It was the only real situation Feyre ended up giving in to their overprotectiveness, even if reluctantly. She was going to use her studio, being the perfect excuse to move it to the attic as she wanted to (it had beautiful skylights that would set the perfect lighting), but they talked her off by remembering her it wouldn't be good to go up and down the stairs everyday with a giant belly and art supplies. 

She couldn't lie- she was procrastinating when it come to the mural. It was a lot of work and she wanted to be a surprise, but one of her lovers was always with her most of the time. Not to count on the fact that she got tired really quickly when doing absolutely anything.

But today, her boyfriends had left for work for the biggest part of the day, giving her the perfect opportunity. She had woken up before sunrise, early enough to sketch and make breakfast and move her supplies to the now empty room.

She heard the front door opening and closing, Lucien's brief "honey, I'm home," followed by his steps. For a moment, she considered if she should let him get in or not, but she couldn't take holding the secret much longer, deciding to tell him to come in when he knocks.

"Oh wow," he says as soon as he enters, taking a look at the walls she been painting non-stop for the whole day. "I knew you were planning something big but this… It is perfect, love."

She smiles, getting up from the ground and going to him. She was wearing nothing but a huge old shirt and underwear, covered in paint, yet he holds her close when she reaches out to him.

"I thought it was fitting for the three of us," she points at the mural. It occupied two walls, going from a starry night to the bright blue of daylight, with mountains and trees to go with it. "We are the lights in each others darkness, remember? Do you like it?"

"I love it, and I love you," he says after a while were he just stared at her and then the wall, smiling like she seen few times before and then kissing her softly. "Don't you think is going to overwork you? It is two whole walls, you know.." He looks at her concerned.

She rolls her eyes, simply holding closer to him and nuzzling her face on his chest. "It wont, but if you're so worried, mother hen, why don't you go change and come back to help me?"

He laughs, nodding. When he comes back, changed into old clothes, Feyre is already sitting down to resume her activities. She knows that his painting will be nothing short of making jokes, asking stupid questions about what color goes where and then silently gaze at her with loving puppy eyes. They done this sometimes before.

Everything goes so well they get lost on what they are doing, only realizing Rhys is home when he is already sitting beside them in his italian suit, snapping pictures on all angles possible, including unnecessary close-ups of her belly.

It didn't take much after that for Rhys, not giving a single shit about his expensive clothing, to throw the paint at her. Needless to say it became war pretty fast.

At least, Feyre thought while laying on the ground sprawled over her lovers, looking at the paint covering the wood floor, I won't be the one to clean this.

Perhaps fussy boyfriends had some good uses.

*******

Once again, sorry for any mistakes. This is just based off of my rage against gender rules lol i feel sorry for you if you don't agree.

Eggplant lasagna is a thing and is so fucking great, you should try it.

Thanks for reading/like/reblog ❤️

[verai-marcel]

Trapper Keeper (RDR2 Fanfic, Arthur x Fem!Reader, 18+, Part 3 of 3)

Tags & Summary in first chapter.

AO3 Link is here.

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2A: High Honor Arthur

———————————

Chapter 2B: Craving Your Attention (Low Honor Arthur)

“I followed you because I wanted to hunt with ya. Yer a hard woman to find.”

You smiled at his forward response. “That all?”

He smiled. “That’s all I can hope fer.”

You sighed and lowered your gun. “You’re lucky I like you,” you muttered as you walked up to him and poked him in the chest with one finger. “But if you come with me, I’m calling the shots.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said with a nod.

***

The two of you quietly tracked a moose through the forest, searching for two days before you finally found one that was worth killing. That night in your tent, as you donned your black clothing and got your bow and knives ready, you were startled when Arthur suddenly peeked inside.

“Excuse me! You can’t just go peekin’ on a lady.”

He just grinned unapologetically. “Just wondering what was takin’ so long.”

You eyed his rifle. “We’re going in quietly. So no rifle.”

“Yer kiddin’.”

“No, I’m not. Get your bow.”

Arthur rolled his eyes and went back to his horse to switch weapons, muttering about crazy hunters, but he did as he was told. He had his bow and arrows secured to his person as you came out of the tent, ready to move. 

“C’mon. When we get downwind of it and close enough, we’ll both shoot at its throat, on three. Understand?”

“Sure,” he drawled.

The two of you got on your horses and made your way to the hill overlooking a small clearing in the forest, where the moose was nibbling on some greens. Going by foot, you carefully snuck downwind of the creature, hoping that Arthur wouldn’t make too much noise. You moved slowly and in time with the rhythm of the creatures of the night, so that your steps would be drowned out by the cacophony of shrill calls of the woodland critters. 

By the time you had gotten to a good spot, you turned and found that Arthur, to your surprise, had kept up with you, quiet as a shadow.

You pointed at the moose and then at your bow. He nodded, and the two of you nocked your arrows together in unison.

“One. Two. Three.”

Your arrows sliced through the air, hitting the moose in the throat. It let out a bellow as it stumbled away, and you quickly gave chase, running gracefully through the forest, dodging brush and low tree branches. You could distantly hear Arthur tromping through the forest after you, making no attempt to be stealthy.

You nocked another arrow as you ran, waiting for the right time to pause and take a shot.

The moose took a sharp left turn and you slid to a halt, drawing back on your bow. Letting out a breath, you released—

A loud bang rang out from your right, and you jumped slightly. Your arrow went wide, hitting a tree trunk as you saw the moose go down, face first into the dirt. 

You glared over at Arthur, who was giving you a shit-eating grin while holding the rifle that you had told him to put away. Sighing, you swapped from bow to knife and whistled for your horse. Going over to the moose, you saw the bullet hole in its head, and hummed appreciatively. At least he was a good shot.

Eventually your horses found the two of you, and after some prep work, the moose had been mostly skinned and quartered so it’d be easier to get it back to camp. You were pleasantly surprised by how skilled Arthur was with his knife, and you enjoyed watching his muscles bulge as he lifted large parts of the carcass onto his horse.

You rode back to camp and hung the meat to drain. After all that, the two of you were an utter mess, covered in blood and moose viscera.

“I’m gonna clean up in the river,” you said, walking away from camp towards the sound of running water.

“I better come with. To guard you.”

You looked at him, raising an eyebrow. “Seriously?”

“I mean it!” He held his hands up, feigning innocence. “I’ll turn my back, keep my eyes on the shoreline to make sure nobody comes by.”

***

At the river, you kept your eyes on Arthur’s back as he stood straight, holding his rifle and looking out at the forest beyond. Shedding your clothes, you walked backwards into the river, making sure he wasn’t looking until you were hip deep in the water. Then you turned around and waded out until the water was neck high, and you sighed happily. Dipping your head under, you washed all the caked on mud and blood off your skin and out of your hair, looking out at the night sky, the sea of stars and the full moon as it lit the river with an ethereal glow. This was partially why you loved night hunts: the scenery with its tall shadows and silver light was such a sharp contrast to each other, so striking in its monochromatic beauty.

“You must trust me if you ain’t payin’ attention around ya.”

You turned to see Arthur, naked, wading into the water with you. You quickly averted your eyes, but you had already seen too much, and your body reacted with a hot jolt low in your abdomen.

“You ain’t ever seen a man before, darlin’?”

“I have,” you mumbled. “Just… wasn’t expecting this.”

“I ain’t blind; I saw you lookin’ at me earlier. You want to look some more?”

You slowly looked back over at him. He had come closer to you now, so his lower bits were hidden by the water, but he was only waist deep, and his chest was scarred and a little hairy and so broad. He kept coming closer and closer to you, until he was a foot away from you.

“Help me clean up,” he murmured.

You hesitantly reached out with your hands, splaying them out on his pecs. He was warm, a pleasant contrast to the cool water, and you moved closer to his heat. He took your hands and rubbed his chest with them, letting out a low rumble in his chest as your hands went lower to his abs, his waist, his hips.

Then he guided your hands between his legs, and you felt him, hard and hot, throbbing in your palms.

“Arthur!” You tried to pull your hands away, but he held them tight. His eyes glowed with a lust you hadn’t seen before.

“Don’t tell me you ain’t interested, darlin’.”

“I…”

He let your hands go. “I won’t force ya. But the offer’s there. I’m more than willin’ to make ya feel good.”

Taking a few steps away from you, he ducked his head under the water and cleaned up a bit, with you watching him, thinking about his offer. But when he had finished rinsing off and started to walk away towards the shoreline, you watched the water sluicing off his body, off his perfect ass, and came to a decision.

“Make me feel good, Arthur.”

He turned towards you and gave you a sultry smile. “Of course, darlin’.” And he held out his hand to you.

***

He quickly bundled you in a blanket and threw on his jeans as he took you back to camp; he said the two of you would come back to get your clothes in the morning. Carrying you into his tent like a caveman with his prize, he unwrapped you and immediately threw off his jeans. Crawling over you, he held your face in his hands and kissed you, gently at first, just to get you to open up a little bit. Then he went in, his tongue invading your mouth as he devoured you, his hands wandering down to grip your breasts.

“I’ve been thinkin’ about doin’ this all week,” he mumbled as he twisted and teased your nipples, making you cry out softly with pleasure. He moved down and took one of your buds into his mouth, licking and sucking on you as he trailed his other hand down your body to caress your thighs, coaxing you open.

“That’s it, spread’em wide fer me.” He stroked you as he kissed you again, his lips finding new places on your neck and collarbone to nip and lick as he made you wet. Slipping one finger inside of you, he hummed in satisfaction. 

“So wet for me, darlin’,” he murmured as he positioned his hips above yours, the head of his cock nudging you open. He was thick, thicker than anything you’d ever felt, and you moaned as he slowly entered you.

“You-you’re too big!”

“You can take it,” he encouraged as he sank in deeper, deeper, until his hips met yours. “See? Got me all inside ya.”

You writhed under him, panting with the feeling of fullness. He moaned before he pulled back out and slid back in, slowly building up the pace as he stared down at you, meeting your eyes with his, dark with desire.

Arthur watched as you whimpered and moaned beneath him. You were losing yourself to this heat, this possession as he wrapped his arms around you and pounded harder into you, making sure to watch as your eyes rolled up when he hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you.

“Like that?”

You just mewled and nodded your head.

“Tell me to fuck you.”

“Fuck me, please!”

“Good girl.”

Arthur wrapped his arms around you as he turned over, putting you on top. He lifted you up by your shoulders and then gripped you by your waist and pumped his hips upwards, making you his pleasure toy as he held you in place.

“Let me see ya touch yerself.”

You reached down and started to stroke your core, your breasts bouncing as he continued to ram you from below. Your other hand tightened against his chest, your nails scratching his skin as you got closer to completion.

“Give me yer pleasure, give it to me,” Arthur commanded with a deep growl.

The rumble of his command vibrated through his body and hit you like a crashing wave as your release exploded through your body; you screamed a string of expletives as you had the hardest climax of your life, Arthur’s cock still fucking your throbbing pussy as the bliss slowly ebbed away from you, leaving you a shuddering, relaxed mess of a woman.

“Fuckin’ hell,” he groaned as he filled you up with his spend, his hips continuing to thrust into you as he wrung out every last drop. When you had both caught your breath, he gently laid you down next to him.

“Yer one helluva woman,” he whispered.

“You’re not too bad yourself,” you whispered back.

***

You awoke the next morning, a tangle of arms and legs. Arthur got up first, putting on some clothes and leaving the tent, giving you a bit of time alone. You wondered when he’d leave, because you figured he’d have a life of his own out there. Getting dressed and crawling out of your tent, you walked over to Arthur, who was already packing up the moose meat to sell in town.

“So, we splittin’ the meat 50-50?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” you answered. “You, uh, you leavin’ after we sell the moose?”

Arthur looked at you in mock offense. “You wanna git rid of me that quickly?”

“No, no, I didn’t mean it that way.”

Arthur chuckled. “Was only jokin’. Just need to take care of some loose ends, then I’ll come find ya again.” At your worried look, he nudged your arm with his elbow. “Don’t worry, I’ll see you soon.”

“Who said I was worried?”

“Just thought you might miss havin’ me inside of you.”

You threw a pebble at him. “Cocky, ain’t ya?”

He grinned. “You know it, darlin’.”

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

End Notes: This trend of writing both HH and LH Arthur… it doubles my workload. But I can’t stop myself from thinking about both sides… because the smut possibilities are SO GOOD. Anyway, hope y’all enjoyed this story. Thank you for reading! And thanks for your lovely request, @r0xy-w0lf!!! It was fun talking to ya on RDO about it! And thanks for being patient with a newbie player like me who keeps running into trees and fences and stumps and rocks and posts and everything else that exists in that game.