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#oh look the gang's all here
imogenkol · 6 months
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Old Scars and New
word count: 3.3k warnings: blood, injury tending, disaster bisexual werewolf being cringe af tags: bandaging/stitching up wounds prompt
this is a slightly altered/updated version of my most popular piece of writing for this verse and thought I'd share it in my continued journey of rebuilding my relationship with my og works!
“Alright, who’s up first?” Nadya announced once everyone filed into the motel room.
Skye flashed a sly grin at the sight of Nadya putting her glasses on. “Ooh, are we gonna play doctor?”  
Jayde rolled her eyes and dumped her bag onto the floor, barely holding back a wince. The scent of her own blood invaded her lungs and she already felt bruises forming, but the aches and pains were far from uncommon occurrences. She dismissed any concern. “I’m fine.” 
Nadya ignored their comments and pointed at both of the siblings. “You two. Sit.”
“Are you going to tell me to roll over too?” Skye remarked. 
At the same time, Jayde reiterated grumpily “I said I’m fine.”
The human threw them a stern glare. Nadya may appear soft and approachable most of the time – even meek to those who underestimated her – but the wolves quickly discovered that she had a hidden talent for intimidation when she wanted to. Jayde and Skye simultaneously took their seats at the edge of one of the beds without further protest. 
Satisfied with their obedience, Nadya turned to Toby. “How are you feeling?” 
“Right as rain,” he replied.
She made a spin motion with her hand. “Twirl.” He held up his arms and turned in one slow circle, showing her that he was unscathed. “Nothing’s hurting?”
“Nope.”
She concluded her thorough scan with a pat on his shoulder. “Okay, you’re good.” 
Toby gave the sisters a childish smirk like he won a game and said “Ha.” Then sauntered over to a chair. 
Well, if the game went to whoever got hurt the least, then Jayde would never win. She almost scoffed at herself because the competitive side of her that came out around Toby hated the fact that she’d lose anything to him. She even made a mental note to be more careful the next time they encountered hunters just so that she could rub her success in his face. Maybe that was his real motive – to try a tactic that would work on a toddler simply to get the reckless blonde to take better care of herself. Jayde wouldn’t put it past him. 
Nadya addressed Skye next. “You got hit on the head pretty hard. How are you feeling?”
The young wolf widened her eyes. “I can see new colors now.”
Nadya laughed and fished out a small flashlight from her bag. “How about dizziness or nausea?”
Jayde watched on as Nadya carefully combed her fingers through Skye’s hair in search of any damage hidden in the light blonde waves. Skye kicked her feet like a little kid getting a check-up, but Jayde noted how her crooked smile evened out to something more… genuine. 
Skye was rarely ever anything but mischievous, as if life were just one big joke to her. Of course, there were precious few moments when her serious self would shine through, where there were no jokes to be made and she acted fairly mellow, much to her older sister’s relief. Jayde was shocked to see that happen more often when she interacted with Nadya. 
“I feel fine,” Skye answered, then flinched when Nadya touched the sore spot on her head. “Ow! But that hurts.” 
“Sorry.” Nadya winced apologetically. “I don’t see any blood, at least.” 
The tip of her finger tapped under Skye’s chin to get her to look up. It was then that Jayde noticed she had been chewing on the inside of her cheek. Skye went still as Nadya shined the light in her eyes. It felt like an eternity to Jayde. To see Nadya be so close to her sister, touching her in ways that Jayde longed for. The older wolf realized – with a hot flush to her cheeks – that she was jealous of Skye. That made her bite her cheek even harder as she forced herself to look down. 
Nadya stepped away, allowing Jayde to finally breathe normally again. “You don’t have a concussion, but I suggest you ice that for tonight.” 
“Sounds good, doc,” she replied with a wink. 
Just when Jayde thought she might get over the momentary lapse in her emotions, Nadya blushed. It was subtle enough that she might have been able to convince herself that she imagined it, but her thoughts took what she saw regardless of rationality and ran. 
The possibility had never occurred to her until that moment, but Jayde started to wonder if maybe Skye had feelings for the human, too. Jayde certainly couldn’t blame her if she did. It was Nadya, after all. This girl practically had Jayde wrapped around her finger the first day they met. The thing that ate at Jayde more than that were Nadya’s reactions to Skye. She wouldn’t have that hard of a time believing she also felt something for her. Her sister – in all of her annoying glory – was just as much of a catch. 
The concept felt nearly unbearable to consider, but Jayde knew that she would never stand in the way of her sister’s happiness or Nadya’s. Especially if it meant Nadya would get to be with someone far more worthy of her affections. Deep down, Jayde has been looking for a good, rock solid excuse to let her go. This possible outcome might be the easiest to accept. That didn’t mean it wasn’t exceptionally painful. 
Wallowing in a pit of her own creation caused Jayde to tune the rest of the world out until Nadya’s voice brought her back down to earth. 
“Crap, I grabbed the wrong kit,” she grumbled as she sifted through her bag.
Skye gasped dramatically. “Language.” 
“You’re right, I’m sorry,” Nadya said with an amused scoff and backed up towards the door. “I’m gonna go back to the car. I’ll pick up some ice for your head on the way back, too.” 
“Toby,” Jayde commanded with a purposeful glance. Despite being clear of immediate danger, she didn’t want anyone going anywhere by themselves. Not even to the parking lot. 
He nodded in understanding and got up. “Yeah, I’ll go with her.”  
Before they left, Nadya locked eyes with Jayde. For that single second, all of her worries were utterly nonexistent. “We’ll be back in a few minutes. Try not to get into any more trouble.” 
“No promises,” Skye replied. Jayde looked to see that the devious smirk had returned to her face. 
The siblings remained seated on the musty motel bed once Toby and Nadya disappeared. The comforter felt scratchy, but Jayde still balled her fists into the fabric and stared at the worn carpet underneath her blood splattered boots. Something metallic tickled the edge of her tongue and she sighed at the sting that shortly followed, releasing her flesh from her own vengeful teeth. 
“So, what crawled up your ass?” Skye asked to break the awkward silence. 
Jayde gave her a brief side-glance. “Nothing.” 
“Right.” Her words already dripped with sarcasm. “You’re just acting like you have to take Old Yeller out back for no reason.” 
Jayde felt a brief spark boil in her chest, but it died out as quickly as it came. She didn’t have the will to be angry or defensive. She only sighed again and forced her question out. “Do you like her?”
There was no hesitation in Skye’s answer. “Yeah, of course I like her.”
“No, I mean… Do you like her?"
Confusion twisted the younger wolf’s features as she blinked at Jayde for several moments. Jayde wordlessly begged not to make her spell it out. The question alone was already mortifying enough. As soon as her meaning fully sank in, Skye’s expression promptly turned incredulous. 
“Forget it,” Jayde said curtly.
But Skye already jumped on it. “No, you know what? I do like her. I really, really like her. Yeah, I want her to have my babies.” 
Jayde had to fight the urge to growl. “It was a genuine question, Skye.” 
“And you’re a genuine idiot,” she fired back with no remorse. “I don’t want your girlfriend, Jayde.” 
“She’s not my girlfriend.” 
“She could be.”
“She shouldn’t.” 
Skye raised an eyebrow. “That’s not very progressive of you. You’re sounding like Miranda with that old world bullshit. Who cares if Nadya is a human? Just be careful not to break or bite her. That simple.” 
Jayde shook her head. “It’s not that…” 
The slow nod she saw out of the corner of her eye turned into a shrug as Skye leaned into her. “What if you’re wrong about yourself?” she whispered like a kid telling a secret. 
They fell back into another prolonged silence as Jayde rocked back and forth anxiously. She wasn’t wrong about herself, but Jayde somehow still had the smallest bit of hope that she could become someone Nadya deserves. That if she tried to be better, she wouldn’t fight this so hard or put herself through all of this pain. She had it in her. Somewhere. Buried underneath dirt and dust. The best version would peek through the cracks of everything broken about her whenever that girl was near. Jayde just had to figure out a way to widen the fractures and reach through. 
But she worried she would break herself even more by doing that. 
After a minute, her lungs deflated once more in utter hopelessness. “I am an idiot.” 
Familiar footsteps approached the room and Skye nudged her older sister with her elbow. “Chin up, sport.” 
Jayde managed to give her a grateful look just as the others returned. Nadya held a small bag of ice in one hand and a different first aid kit in the other. She went to Skye first and handed her the ice for her head. 
Guilt immediately flooded Jayde’s system for feeling so jealous. Nadya put in so much effort to take care of them all and Jayde had been worried that she wanted her sister over her. She needed to get over herself. 
“Okay, you’re good to go. Just take it easy,” Nadya ordered. 
Skye enthusiastically jumped to her feet while balancing the ice pack on top of her head. “Great, I’m gonna go get tacos across the street.” 
“Don’t go alone,” Jayde called as she skipped towards the door.
She waved dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, buddy system.” 
“You guys want anything?” Toby asked before he trailed after her.
“Just get me whatever you get,” Jayde said.
“Okay. Nadya?”
Nadya sounded slightly distracted as she prepared the kit. “Uh, what kinds are there?” 
“Asada, pollo, carnitas.” When she took too long to ponder the options, he translated in a patronizing tone “Beef, chicken, pork.” 
She looked up and fixed him with an exasperated stare. “I know what they mean, I was just thinking.” 
Toby chuckled. “Any day now.” 
“Get me chicken.” 
He gave a casual thumbs up. “You got it.” 
The motel room grew quiet again once it became only the two young women. The wolf took time to let the human’s presence calm the restless being within. She focused on how her air of crisp autumn spices encompassed her senses, even over the scents of the others. What fascinated Jayde was how her existence always broke through the most powerful things. Werewolves had an incredibly distinct and potent scent, so being around her pack should have masked the humanness of Nadya’s scent. But it didn’t. In fact, Jayde often sensed her before she sensed anything or anyone else. It was always her first. 
“Your turn?” Nadya suggested softly, immediately drawing Jayde’s full attention. 
Up to that point, she had completely forgotten about her injuries. “Oh, right.” 
Nadya came directly to her, standing just inches away. Jayde stared up at her and waited, totally transfixed. “Let’s get a look at that arm.” 
Jayde realized she needed to remove her jacket. She snapped herself out of her trance and carefully slipped out of it, grimacing as the fabric tugged at the graze on her bicep. Blood had mostly soaked into the jacket itself, but streaks of crimson still smeared across her skin and reached as low as her wrist.
Nadya bent down and adjusted her glasses to get a better look, but that furrow in her brow looked like it took too much effort. “Do you think we could move to the bathroom? The lighting sucks out here and I gotta get you cleaned up.” 
“Yeah.” 
Nadya followed closely behind as they entered the bathroom, but lingered over Jayde’s shoulder after turning the light on. “Hey, did you take a hit to the back?” 
Jayde craned her neck to see why she looked so concerned, but couldn’t see much of anything. The strain of twisting only made her injured shoulder spike with pain. “Um, I’m not sure. Maybe? I remember getting punched or something.” 
“There’s blood, Jay,” Nadya informed her, still inspecting the wound. “Take this off.” 
Jayde felt her entire body flare with intense heat as Nadya tugged at her shirt. She hesitated for a few beats to let the embarrassment pass. It wasn’t like Nadya hadn't seen her without a shirt on before. Hell, she’s seen her naked. She’s seen her turn into a goddamn werewolf, for fuck’s sake. Jayde wanted to curse at herself for being so stupid. 
She struggled to get out of the shirt on her own. It was enough that her shoulder felt as sore as it did, but now that she had been made aware of it, the wound on Jayde’s back stung like a bitch. As much as she wanted to hide her pain, she wasn’t able to stop herself from flinching when she tried to work one of her arms out of the ruined clothing. 
“Here, let me –” Nadya reached to help, but then her pulse spiked in the wolf’s ears like a drum had been struck and she stopped short. “Can I..?”
“Sure, yeah,” Jayde stammered and braced herself as the human stepped into her space. 
Nadya’s hands carefully gripped the bottom of the bloodied shirt and slowly pushed it up her torso. Jayde could tell that she tried not to, but there were still a couple of times where her fingers brushed up against bare skin. Jayde clenched her jaw tightly. Just those small, brief touches caused intense tingling to spread outwards from the places of contact. She shut her eyes and held her breath as her wolf fought to rise to the surface. A shiver raced along Jayde’s spine as she quickly dampened it. After a tense half-second, she felt the restless animal reluctantly retreat. 
Despite nearly losing control, Jayde didn’t feel afraid. Maybe because she knew Nadya wasn’t in any danger. The wolf only wanted a glimpse of her, but the last thing Jayde wanted was to cause any potential fear. She certainly didn’t want to think up some shitty excuse to explain why her eyes started to glow. 
The two of them successfully got the shirt over Jayde’s head with minimal pain and discarded it on the floor. Meeting Nadya’s gaze after that felt far braver than facing any hunter. She had this look in her warm brown eyes that Jayde couldn’t quite decipher. However, the physical effect in Nadya’s body was more obvious. Being so close, Jayde sensed it all. 
An erratic heartbeat. A clipped breath caught in her throat. A blooming scent that tempted Jayde nearer. 
Those were not things she noticed in Nadya with anyone else, Jayde realized. 
“I’m going to, uh…” Nadya motioned awkwardly, finally just shuffling behind her again. 
Jayde cleared her throat to banish her own nerves and brushed her tangled hair over her shoulder. “How’s it looking back there?” 
“This is pretty deep,” she murmured and began to clean it. “You really didn’t feel this?”
Jayde tensed at the incredibly cold sensation of a disinfectant wipe against her hot skin, but she still gave a half shrug. “I remember being hit, but that’s all.” 
“Well, you got lucky. It could have punctured your lung.”
Jayde set her hands on the edge of the sink and watched Nadya’s reflection carefully through the mirror. “Yeah, I feel lucky.” 
“That better not be sarcasm. Not when I’m looking at all these scars.” Nadya scolded as she got the stitches ready. “It looks like you should be dead ten times over.” 
“It’s because I should be.” 
They briefly shared a look. Nadya’s expression remained unreadable. Not that Jayde had the time to properly study it before she went back to work. 
She didn’t say anything while she made a few sutures — being too focused on her task of mending a werewolf — but then Jayde saw her brown eyes peek over her shoulder again. “I’m really glad you aren’t, by the way.” 
Jayde exhaled an almost whispered response. “Me too.”  
A bandage was carefully placed over the newly stitched wound, but Nadya lingered behind her. Jayde wondered if maybe she had spotted another wound that hadn’t quite traveled through her nerves and up to her brain yet, but then felt an incredibly delicate sensation tickle her lower back. It took a moment for her to realize that it was the tip of Nadya’s finger trailing over what had to be one of her scars. Jayde froze in place, not having a single clue how to react. 
“How many are there?” Nadya’s voice sounded distant. 
Jayde gripped the edges of the sink so that she wouldn’t fall over as the girl traced another sensitive mark. She was afraid that the slightest movement would cause her to stop. “I’ve never counted.” 
A soft hum echoed in the bathroom. “I guess you’ve got a couple more now. Which reminds me…” Nadya pulled her hand away, but before disappointment twisted an invisible knife in the werewolf’s chest, her palm rested on her hip and turned her around. 
The human’s sudden willingness to touch her in ways that could be considered intimate left Jayde’s mind in a utter stupor, stirring her inner self once more. She didn’t know what to make of it. Or what to do. She knew what she wanted to do, though that remained a line Jayde felt she shouldn’t cross. 
Nadya went to work on the laceration that cut through her upper arm and Jayde found herself thoroughly fascinated with the process. The human’s eyes were so focused, making sure each and every stitch was up to her standard. The way her brows knitted in concentration — the thin frame of her glasses resting on the bridge of her nose — replaced Jayde’s heart with a pair of fluttering wings. She could stare at her for hours. 
Nadya finally glanced up while she wrapped her arm. This time, her blush was entirely noticeable. “What?” 
The question made Jayde realize she had been smiling. She quickly looked away, though she couldn’t fully wipe the expression from her face. “Nothing.” 
“Okay,” Nadya said slowly, confused amusement written on her face. “Well, I’m all done.” 
Jayde nodded as she cleaned the mess up. As soon as the kit was packed, Nadya gave the wolf an unsure look and turned to leave the bathroom. On impulse, Jayde caught her wrist to stop her. A small gasp escaped Nadya’s lips at the unexpected touch, but she still waited expectantly. 
“Thank you.” Jayde caressed the smooth curve of her wrist with her thumb. For the first time, she didn’t try to hide it. She wanted Nadya to feel her gratitude. “For taking care of us.” 
Nadya’s features softened into an absolutely stunning smile. “I like taking care of you.” 
It took everything Jayde had not to pull her in. She yearned to feel Nadya against her. Longed to brush their lips together. To hold her close and swallow every breath. Feel all the ways she could get her heart to race. Instead, Jayde’s fingers went slack and Nadya slipped out of her grasp, leaving her alone in the bathroom with the ghost of her contact still prickling across the surface of her skin.
tag list (ask to be added or removed!): @adelaidedrubman @florbelles @marivenah @simonxriley @shegetsburned @voidika @kyber-infinitygems @statichvm @inafieldofdaisies @socially-awkward-skeleton @aceghosts @jillvalentinesday @risingsh0t @unholymilf @thedeadthree @cassietrn @jackiesarch
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ultimateyakazoo · 11 months
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the initial plan for fuyuhiko following chapter 2 was that every time someone brought up peko or something we’d get a close up on fuyuhiko making this kind of face while john denver’s ‘annies song’ plays under a rain sound effect. this is harder with a purely visual medium but u can imagine
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tagidearte · 7 months
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The brain rot is so massive I'm now considering a fire watchtower au set in France, either late XX century or on the first half of the 2000s. Where vampires are of course still a thing. Mizrak takes the job as a fire watcher for summer after a conflict within his church, following Emmanuel's advice to get away for a bit. Olrox is already there working for reasons I won't share in case I ever write this. They are separated by miles, of course, their towers spread apart as they start talking in the evenings before the sun sets using walkie talkies (Olrox is on night shift, of course). Job related convos that quickly get personal. Mizrak the fools starts getting attached, maybe out of loneliness over rarely seeing other people (except the ocasional hikers or the park ranger, who would be Annette in this AU), maybe out of other desires. Olrox irks him, yet there's a weird pull in there, something he can't quite describe. Annoying as much as it is comforting. A voice, nothing else, yet what a voice it is. He wonders what body it is attached to. He starts losing focus doing prayer, ears always alert for the static of the device, the call of his name. He pretends it's because he doesn't want to be distracted in case a fire starts spreading.
Of course they have walkie talkie sex at some point before ever seeing each other, too. Long talks as well, because the show barely has them interacting yet I think their chats would be oh so fun to write.
But of course, vampires still exist. Mizrak slowly notices there are weird things happening in the forest. Something is not quite right, not quite normal. Eventually, he figures out Olrox is not quite right either.
Castlevania Nocturne is such a short show. Why am I wanting to write such a character heavy fanfic when we barely know these men's backgrounds.
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ectonurites · 4 months
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SUPER DARK TIMES X FOR TAMMY RAE by BIKINI KILL
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aqqleshiqqing-archive · 10 months
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okay i am beginning to see the appeal. NO I WILL NOT TOUCH HIM I AM JUST SAYING I GET THE APPEAL OKAY
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majimassqueaktoy · 1 year
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Saejima and Yuki ultimate besties arc WHEN
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mrs-kelly · 1 year
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have you seen this promotional image before bc I havent before today and ive been losing it about it ever since i saw it ajfkdsl
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robotpussy · 1 year
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going to report my landlord to fucking citizen's advice because as far as he is concerned i have no support, and the one time i make a complaint, he tells me i should end my tenancy and he has done nothing about the mould problem here and he left me with a broken toilet for 7 months even after i kept asking him to fix it
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dagmartoons · 1 year
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nobody:
me: so mother's day is gonna suck for lupin post-part 6 right
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oceanxveiined · 8 months
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Honestly, even when I add a new verse for the oc(s) and work them into a still-expanding canon, I like to think their presence in the area/time of the narrative is best justified as essentially them running a B-plot in a sitcom to the main quests/protagonists' journeys. Or like. Half the shit Team Rocket gets up to in the movies-
#v; intertwined fates (genshin verse)#So it’s—Mondstadt: Dani & the gang grapple w customer service while running a money laundering business that STARTED as a bit#Clowning hilichurl camps cuz sb lost a bet & attempts at raising property value–is tHAT A FUCKEN DRAGON???#Doin in-city heists & thievery–WHY’S there a masked weirdo out patrolling? WHY’RE the cats EVIL? Abort mission; abort; aBORT-#Liyue: One of the friends got Homesick & there happens to be a BIG FREAKIN ARCHON EVENT goin on so let’s go for a vacation#Before the Rite begins time to gather things for Dani’s pet projects–shit; wait; there’s Fatui; oh god there’s Fatui everywhere what the fu#Dani & co take crash courses in geovishaps–literally#Wandering the Adeptal Zone– 🎶 don’t be suspicious; don’t be suspicious 🎶#Okay made it to the Rite; now there’s–what the fuck; he’s DEAD??? Dammit; time to clown the Millelith to avoid questioning#Now for a Mora heist & for the corpse; that could be useful–What the fuck; a Harbinger??? Wait–WHY is the overlord of the Vortex here???#Inazuma: Dani&co almost freakin died on the way bc Dani wouldn’t let up; but at least they got there yay; time to clown Fatui for disguise#Dani has a Bad Time currently Thnks t th Mmrs; but it’s okay–she can have dango milk in these trying times. Also commit Violences#Loaches are fucken evil#The gang got so caught up in the wonders of sightseein; local specialty huntin & wild new cuisines they forgot there's a Vision Hunt goin o#Oh okay; bad time to be Fatui; bad time to be foreigners; sHIT–oh; gods; wHY did they even come here–oh nvm; it’s cool again#Sumeru: One of the friends got Homesick 2: the electric boogaloo–what do you MEAN like half the lot are Wanted here???#Dani has a Bad Time currently 2: The electric boogaloo–except now bc she can’t find her brother where she last abandon–sorry; LEFT him#Jade has a Bad Time currently: The spinoff–her family wants her back; but they're looking for the wrong person there so it’s cool#Time to scam clowns & waste all their hard earned Mora–the gang gets Political & starts a bar fight over Eremite rights to Education#Dani is actually Excited to see something for leisure for once–the fUCK DO YOU MEAN THE FESTIVAL IS CANCELED#Only Eliza; Oz; Da; Jade & Dani had terminals so they go thru the Terrible No Good Disappointing day loop while Durene has Peace for once#No she didn’t notice anything was wrong in the slightest; not even while Tua went awol. With errbody awake now; time to Desert#Dani&co get clowned by shrooms & Jadeplumes–what do you MEAN there was a staged coup???#Invading the House of Daena; time to look for smth to help out Eliza...WHAT DO YOU MEAN SHE HAS A VISION NOW?#Fontaine: The gang go on vaca to see an exclusive magic show; Dani's illusions of the Archon are shattered. also THERES A MURDER @ THE SHOW#'With this candle; I will...I will set your mother on fire-' faking Family for a prestigious dinner CLEARLY goes off w/out a hitch#Ozzy starts an underground gambling ring—Gone WRONG???#Another trial? REVELATIONS?? A HARBINGER GOT ARRESTED??? ...ANYWHO; time to heist & try not to get arrested#Vivianne of the Lake must be Feared#//Honestly; can’t wait to see what potential plot bunny I get to think up for 4.1 kfjkfjfb
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@ofdetonation​ said:  he sits next to toga and makes a brief glance to her.  “y’look like shit.”  he wonders if it’s her cravings getting the better of her  -  in which, the blond eventually offers his hand and arm, giving a nudge to her side with his elbow.  “can’t be havin’ that, league needs you.”  and, if it’s not that, the blond is content enough to sit by her until she’s doing better.
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the amount of side eye she gives him, could kill. rude. -- but despite katsuki’s bluntness, he was right. toga looked like shit and she felt like.. shittier shit. if there even was such a thing. “ gee, thanks. ”
the past week or so had been difficult. & it was getting harder and harder to escape away from their temporary hideout due to an increase in hero presence around the city. not only was toga going stir crazy, but she was downright anemic. she’d rationed her blood bags the doc gave her as best as she could, but that only lasted about 3-4 days. she’d been ‘hungry’ for the last day and a half by now. 
she was nestled into the crappy sofa: knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around them, head resting atop them. when katsuki nudges her, toga shifts her amber eyes back towards him, lifting her head to narrow her eyes when they fixate on the arm and hand he presents before her. this close to him she can hear his pulse, thanks to her quirk and her heart quickens. 
inching forwards, toga is eager to take and hold his arm with both of her smaller hands and bite-- but, once she has hold of katsuki’s forearm, heart pounding inside her chest, she stops --- and looks up at him again, almost as if asking for permission. 
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she licks her lips impatiently as she feels heat rising in her cheeks. “ .. you’re sure? ” maybe she’s apprehensive too. this wasn’t something that people just.. offered her. no one has ever let her bite them before, and toga’s never been really scared of anything-- but the thought of hurting one of the very few people that did care about her? -- she couldn’t. --- not him. not katsuki.
amber eyes search his, seriously. “ what if-- i can’t stop? ” hastily, at the thought, toga drops his arm and turns her head away, shutting her eyes and burying her head back into her knees. “ i - i ... dun wanna hurt you! ” she mutters beneath muffled arms. yes, she’s bitten into her own arm at this point, not that it was gonna do her any good. 
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victorluvsalice · 2 years
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So I wasn’t able to actually PLAY my Chill Save this past weekend, thanks to not having the majority of my mods cleared for the new patch -- so instead I hit Granite Falls in my building save and decided to upgrade one of the cabin lots there for my Valicer trio! (You know, via giving it a makeover and then saving it to my Library to be slotted into the actual Chill Save later.) Ended up choosing “Green Getaway,” since I figured they didn’t need a huge place (especially since only ONE of them needs a bed to sleep in now). I made the following improvements:
-->First of all, the outside is actually green now. XD I actually chose that completely at random because I wanted just to make it something other than brown -- it wasn’t until I was renaming the lot that I realized “Oh, huh, that was apt.” XD Missed the back stairs, but eh, that’s the back, no big deal. (And if I really want I can fix it when I put it into the Chill Save.)
-->I also made the inside more colorful -- the main living space has yellow walls now, and the bathroom is blue with a STONE floor because I felt that was smarter than hardwood.
-->Changed the games table on the front porch to the nicer wood “Don’t Wake The Llama” one (I believe from Parenthood), as I thought that fit better than the base game one.
-->Gave the house a proper mini-kitchen! Pretty much all of it apart from the sink, paper towels, dish drainer, fire alarm, and bin are from Cottage Living, as I felt that fit the aesthetic.
-->Upgraded the couch from a two-seater to a three-seater, and upgraded the TV to match.
-->As this necessitated getting rid of one of the lights, I also upgraded all the hanging lamps in the house to brighter Cottage Living ones.
-->Changed out the bookcase and dining table for nicer ones/ones I felt fit the cabin better, added more dining chairs (Smiler may not need to eat, but I do intend for them to take their laptop on this jaunt), and rearranged decorative items so that they’re all visible with walls cutaway.
-->Also added curtains! From Cats & Dogs if I recall correctly. Just makes the living room look a little nicer. Bathroom got a shade, though I don’t recall the pack.
-->Added the little gramophone radio and an end table for it to sit on (finding one that it WOULD sit on was a task and a half, though!)
-->Moved the cool little corkboard with its pre-placed postcards into the bedroom; also changed the bed to the Rustic Dream bed (or whatever it’s called) that you unlock when you max out the “Patron of the Arts” branch of the Artist career. This is the bed Alice will be unlocking soon, so I figured I’d let her and Victor try it out. :p
-->Rearranged the bathroom so I could fit in a proper shower/tub combo and some better towels (another task and a half to find ones that looked good!).
-->Added a third log seat to the campfire; a third folding chair seat to the cooler sitting area (and replaced the log seat serving as a “table” with an actual log table); and a couple of counters beside the barbecue with appropriate decorative items. Oh, and changed the mailbox to the Werewolves one and the bin to -- don’t recall if base game or from Outdoor Retreat, but it looked better than the standard plastic one!
-->Added the new Werewolves telescope and a water balloon bucket for more activities!
-->Added lot traits -- Sunny Aspect (because it’s a pretty forest); Peace & Quiet (because it’s out in the middle of nowhere and should be pretty chill); Natural Lighting (because it should be a good place to get more pictures for the nonexistent photo album XD).
I think it came out pretty nice -- and it should serve as a nice base of operations for Victor, Alice, and Smiler’s vacation. And, if you agree, since I did this without my mods and CC installed, I put it up on the Gallery! It’s called “Green Getaway Makeover,” under username AliceNVictor. :) Hope you enjoy!
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@brighteyedcrybaby
The infiltration was going perfectly.
Hikōkai hummed under their breath as the arm under their python-steel grasp slipped-  The lovely scream cut off as the lummox choked on his tongue, his dislocated and broken shoulder flopping away from Hikōkai‘s emptied hands. “This is what happens when you defy the Yurei-Kuroi (lit. “ghost” + “black”), Iguro-kun~” They crooned lovingly into Toshio-san’s ear - his body tremored minutely as his breath was stolen from the sheer pain Hikōkai had granted him with. They tapped a cheerful line down his arm, smiling as the tremors increased with ev-e-ry touch. “Hmm? What’s that?” Hikōkai watched his throat spasm as he tried to respond - wheezing, breathless. Well, he’d recover -  Hikōkai, after all, had simply been told to “make him regret it - but don’t traumatize him too much! God, you keep on gettin’ worse ev’ry time I see you, you monster”.
Whistling, Hikōkai rubbed their hands to dry them as they left the helpfully near-by! washroom, Toshio-san having walked-slash-half-carried off by Inu-kun under worried, nervous brown eyes. The Yurei-Kuroi weren’t extremely different than the common, half-serious organizations that Hikōkai’d infiltrated before -- though they’d never had to deal with just so many kekkei-genkei before! Why, it would almost be intimidating -- if there weren’t all so... underutilized. Toshio-san had the minor kekkei-genkei of being able to modify his fingers. Hacchan had fire-resistance. Then again, apparently in this society that Hikōkai had found themself in near everyone had some form of “kekkei-genkei”. All unique, too! Incredible. Alas, Hikōkai themself did not receive one arriving here, but they only idly wondered what it would be for a few moments - the drawbacks of not being able to do anything else at their disposal didn’t quite compare. Hikōkai pulled on a pair of thin, medic’s-grade milky-translucent gloves as they turned the corner - on their way to the so-called “lounge/common” area where sometimes various members of the Yurei-Kuroi could be found - when two sounds hit their ear.
One, the low tone that accompanied the actually-not-low-quality red light-alarms that were periodically found lining the top of the concrete structure’s doorways.  Two, the higher, slightly flat melody of the lovely “Dream Sweet - in Sea Major” they’d discovered that Hikōkai had put to their own, smaller and more personal alarm over near their bunkbed. 
-Oh! ...Oh no.  It appeared a Hero~ had come to investigate and break-up this little den of malhumanity, huh?
#thread-start!!#ic: danger danger toil and trouble#char: gekkeiju hikōkai#partner: brighteyedcrybaby - izuku#//uhh generating world-building/lore for Setting sir#//uh-oh!! looks like hikōkai bein' all too-happy-ANBU again~!#//spontaneous-character-generation-complete-with-minor-details#//tagged for slightly-dark content#toshio iguro (read: traditionally) had been skimming money from what he was supposed to be returning to the gang as a gang-member#there are actually /two/ inu's at yurei-kuroi -#hikokai calls them both -kun though#this is inu-san - iguro's mild-mannered and reticent friend with short brown hair and brown eyes#//y'know that 'extra' who helped bakugou beat up izuku with the long-fingers quirk?#//quirk looks like that now#//but iguro can also thicken his fingers too - making them stronger#antei haru is a woman with red-orange hair pulled into a messy low ponytail and a six-pack#toshio iguro has a shaved-bald head but he used to have a long mohawk-mane of dark hair#//name break-downs:#antei meaning stability/firmness/durability#haru meaning light/sun/male here#toshio meaning outstanding person + husband#//cribbing the meaning of 'iguro' from reddit - 'guro' is dark - right?#'dream sweet in sea major' is not actually flat - it's just the tinny speaker that it's being played from#the 'head-quarters' of yurei-kuroi is an abandoned and slightly-ruined concrete building - part of it is underground#//the bunk beds were not initially part of the whole deal - but they got added eventually for people to crash on#even so; hikokai brought their own bunk-bed mattress and made it slightly more personal than other people#//woo boy... WORLD BUILDING TIME#world-building!!#//world-building slap-patch-job on the spot!!#boy that's a lot of tags;;
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deadsetobsessions · 4 months
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Danny’s Wayne adoption bait. The guy that owns the bodega knows it. Everyone and their mothers knows it. Danny, on the other hand, had no clue. To be fair, he had just crash landed in this dimension a week ago and his back was still sore from the weird design the car had.
(It’s only three weeks of homelessness later does Danny realize that he crash landed on the Batmobile. Whoops. Oh well. He’ll blame it on Clockwork if the vigilante asks after repair costs.)
(Bruce, on the other hand, is scouring the streets for this kid the car cams caught- oddly static filled footage- because his mind jumped to the worst case scenarios: a suicidal meta or a meta being threatened or a meta in a trafficking scheme or even worse all three at once and Bruce just can’t because there is a child in danger, he doesn’t have time to sleep.)
Danny rubbed at his back, eyes going watery at the memory. Sure, his wounds have healed over by now but the- heh- phantom pain is no joke. He shuddered, huddling closer to his threadbare hoodie. His only saving grace from getting jumped while walking the streets of Gotham at night is his invisibility and intangibility. Also, he’s floating, so “walking” doesn’t apply to him.
He’s gotta check on the kid he saved yesterday from a mugging, so Danny hurried along to the depilated apartment complex the kid was squatting in. Turning visible and tangible as he turns the corner, Danny glanced around for Amy.
“Danny!”
“Hey, kiddo. Doing alright?”
“Yeah! Come meet my gang!”
Danny felt his eyebrows rise to form Jazz’s exasperated look. Ouch. Waving the pain of losing Jazz away, Danny smiled at the excited girl.
“A gang? I wasn’t aware I was being brought to your almighty group.”
“Yeah! Uh, you actually helped a bunch of us so…”
Danny thought back to all those times he punted crooks away from robbing kids and shrugged. Yeah, what Amy said was likely.
“Kay, kiddo.”
She scowled, and Danny didn’t have the heart to tell her it looked more like a pout.
“You’re just a teenager.”
“Well, you’re a just a kid.”
Danny cackled as she chased him down the street, trying to kick his shins.
Life is good, even if he’s homeless and hungry.
——
“Jason.”
“Old man.” Jason mocks back, pausing his tasks. He waits as Bruce struggles to put his thoughts and feelings into words.
“There’s… a meta.”
“In Gotham?” Jason tilts back, hands halfway to his guns as a silent offer. Bruce shakes his head.
“A child. In Crime Alley.”
“In my turf?” Jason’s disquieting demeanor quickly swapped to a protective one.
“Trafficking, I think. Male, black hair…”
“Shit. Get Dickwing back here, he’s good with traumatized kids. I’ll go look for him.” Jason’s already moving, mind filtering through the kids he knows might have information to offer.
Bruce nods, shoulders relaxing. Jason smacks down the lump in his throat at the subtle sing of trust. “I’ll get Oracle and Red Robin on it.”
Jason morphs from Jay to Red Hood in one smooth step, helmet firmly placed on his head. He grunts in agreement, slinging his legs over his motorcycle. He roars off, mind half filled with tearing apart whatever traffickers dared to shit near his territory and the other half filled with worry for this possible kid.
——
Danny, as the Bats become aware of his existence, hands Amy and her kiddie gang a bag of fancy beef jerky.
“Try these with peanut butter, it’s kind of good.”
Amy stares at him, the judgement of an eight year old more piercing than anything he’s ever experienced.
“You’re fucking weird-”
“Language!” He squawks.
“-but sure, whatever you say, boss.”
“Boss?!”
The kids ignores his alarmed face.
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“The what?”
Danny and Duke had been having a pretty okay day. Duke got a ridiculous packet to complete from his professor, and Danny tripped down the stairs in the library, causing a ruckus that got everyone’s attention.
So yea, everything was going well until they decided to push their luck and go to a new coffee shop a bit further away. It wasn’t the coffee shop itself, but the goons that came out of nowhere to kidnap Tim Drake-Wayne who was getting an order to go, which turned into a gang fight in the middle of the street.
Danny and Duke, along with Tim, ended up sheltered behind a car and missed the opportunity to bunker down inside the shop.
“Well, this isn’t what I planned today,” Tim comments.
“Same,” Danny agrees.
“Maybe we can wait it out?” Duke suggests.
The other two give a look that says that it was not going to happen.
“Rock, Paper, Scissors for peeking,” Danny says, already holding out his fist.
“Bet.”
They look at Duke.
Peer Pressure works and he groans with clear discomfort at the situation.
Duke loses. A bullet whizzes past his head.
“Nope! Nope. Not doing that again.”
Tim rolls his eyes at the dramatics, but with Danny still there he bit his tongue.
“What’d you see?”
Duke looks at Tim like he’s crazy.
“Lots of people with guns,” he answers hysterically.
“Need a hand?”
Red Hood had swung down from the nearest rooftop, hand gun in both hands. He pops off three shots before having to duck behind the car with them.
“Hood, what are you doing here? This isn’t Crime Alley,” Tim asks like they bumped into each other at the supermarket.
Hood shrugs, “Close enough.”
“Oh sweet, can I borrow that?” Danny randomly asks.
Before anyone can question what he was talking about he was already reaching out to take the handgun off of Hood’s thigh.
“Whoa-“
Danny turns to look over the car’s hood and pulls the trigger. Nothing happens.
The others pull him back quickly. He winces at the hard fall to his tailbone.
“Holy crap! Danny!”
“Dude, are you trying to get yourself killed?”
“What is wrong with you?”
“Hey!” Danny interrupts their freak out. “It’s not my fault his gun is broke.”
“The safety is still on, idiot,” Hood tilts his head.
“The what?” Danny asks in genuine confusion.
The three brothers all pause and look at him.
“The safety? On the gun? So there isn’t a misfire?” Tim explains. He was stuck between shocked and judgmental.
“This is why people who don’t know how to shoot shouldn’t touch guns,” Hood says in frustration while reaching to take it away.
Danny pulls it back out of reach.
“I know how to shoot, thanks. My parent’s weapons just don’t have safety things. I’m not used to it,” he grumbles.
“What do you-“
But Danny was already finding the safety and flicking it off before trying again. This time he hits two goons, one in the shoulder and another in the leg.
The batboys glance at each other.
“So,” Hood tries to be casual, “what do your parents do?”
“They’re scientists,” Danny answers, mainly focused on shooting another person dressed in a mask, “but they make their own weapons.”
“Are they by any chance mad scientists? Or borderline rogues?” Duke asks as half a joke.
“Of course not,” Danny answers. Then he pauses to actually think about it. “I don’t think so.”
“Cool. That’s fine.”
**
After that Danny had a few more ‘meet and greet’s with the local vigilantes and saw some lingering shadows around their apartment. They had the weirdest questions about his family.
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serawritesthings · 5 months
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hi! Sorry for any mistakes, english is not my first language. I don't know if you're accepting requests, if you not, just ignore. But I'm wondering how you would write something related to a jealous Arthur Morgan, high honor of course (with smut or without smut sincerely you know what looks best). the way you write is addictive and passionate, i believe anything you write from this would be great.
OUR DEAR, GREEN LITTLE FRIEND
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Pairing | Arthur Morgan x Fem! Reader Summary | Oh, jealousy. When the thought of you straying too close to the comfort of Charles, the green monster claws its way into Arthur's head. Tags | sexual content 18+ minors dni, tiny bit of angst, description of violence and wounds, fluffy at times, smut Word Count | 10k A/N | Hi everyone! I just HAD to write this request, hope you like it! Also, thank you dearly anon♡
While many found the biting cold of the climate north of West Grizzlies to be bitter–sharp air seeping into your very bones–you saw it oddly liberating despite the current predicament. The circumstance was dire, indeed, and you pondered many times if this would finally be the end for all of you, thinking of the incredible luck you had managed to have so far. Fate, or an astonishingly fascinating knowledge on how to escape the grappling arms of the law with a suspicious amount of people trashing through the roads in utter, sheer panic.
Glancing around you as you huddled closer to the fire, hands rubbing furiously against the wool of your gloves to gain even the slightest warmth to your biting fingers, you were met with the flushed cheeks of your comrades. The skin that now glistened from the melting snowflakes was caressed by the warm, orange glow from the flames lighting up the small hut you had taken residence in. 
The road leading to here had been long, and the time spent in the wagon that did nothing to shield you from the penetrating wind that howled into the night, your thoughts had been entirely focused on the man who now lay dead a few meters away, tucked in some fabric to shield the paling flesh of a corpse. While the thought might not make you uncomfortable, it did its thing on the others who looked weary at the covered man. 
You had done your best to tend to him amidst the severe trembling of your fingers and numbness spreading through you the longer you rode in the worrying storm, finding his blood still staining the cotton of your gloves–a reminder that you had done what you could to help the poor fellow. Despite not knowing him well enough to shed a tear, death was still a death, and a slight melancholy set its claw in all of you as you tried to regain some warmth. 
“Stupid man.” Glancing beside you, you took notice of the dark-haired woman muttering angrily as she held a sleeping Jack close to her body. 
“What’s wrong?” You inquired quietly, curious of her obvious disdain.
“John Marston is what’s wrong.” Blazing heatedly into the fire, you could almost see the depths of hell through her furious eyes. “He didn’t come back with the rest.” Shifting her eyes to yours for a quick moment that, although short, showed the worry hidden beneath her anger. 
Nodding slowly as you leaned against her slightly in comfort, you realized you hadn’t taken notice of the man’s absence until now. Returning with empty hands and another mouth to feed had instead been the case, no Marston as far as the eyes could see as he probably whirred around in the blizzard somewhere.
“Do you think he…” As you spoke, you trailed off, growing unsure of your words while realizing your comments might be prodded into a sensitive subject. 
“No.” Firmly, she sniveled harshly, shaking her head in protest. “No, he wouldn’t leave again.” Although her words were sure, you still felt a lingering doubt cloud your mind, remembering being told of his earlier departure from the gang that caused more scars in their relationships than good–not that it wasn’t faulty from the very start.
As you were about to let your prying win against your common sense, you were interrupted by the door being audibly slammed open, the noisy winds from outside growing louder as snowflakes whirled inside. Walking inside was the prominent figure of Charles, nodding respectfully to its residents as the door shut behind him, once more letting the warmth settle.
“Folks.” He mumbled quietly, treading through everyone huddling by the fire as he glanced curiously at the new woman before settling beside you. You glanced up at him, taking in his snow-covered self before lingering on his hand that rested motionless on his legs, bandages visible under his gloves.
“It’s not too bad; the cold seems to numb the pain.” A slight smile graced your lips at his observance, finding it unique to the man to be so tentative to everyone around him. Letting out a small laugh, you reach to remove your gloves before taking his hand in yours so you could lay it in your lap, unwrapping the bandages to examine the burns covering his skin.
You had given it a quick look-over before you had to tend to Davey, doing the best you could to ease his pain you were sure would be unavoidable. Although the sight was quite gruesome, it didn’t look as bad as you had expected.
“You’re stronger than me, that’s for sure. I would be a crying mess if I burned my hand like that.” Your voice was gentle as you started to rewrap the fabric around his hand, finding it increasingly irritating you didn’t have the tools you usually did that would indeed do a fine job at lessening his pain.
You had managed to gain a slight smile from the otherwise aloof man, probably finding your words humorous. “Let’s hope it’ll never come to that.” 
Sharing a look, you heard the door open once again, the irritated voice of Uncle damning whoever was letting in the cold for the second time. Both you and Charles laughed slightly, and as you looked up, you were faced with a pair of squinting, blue eyes, the icy cold from the outside seemingly enhancing their sharpness although making a welcomed warmth spread through you as they gazed over you in a quick motion–departing to look at the hand that rested in your lap.
“A sad loss, folks,” Hosea stated as he stepped onto the wooden planks, speaking out loudly in the otherwise calm hut, groaning as he helped Arthur lift Davey’s lifeless body, limp like a ragdoll. 
Glancing subtly, you observed him as Arthur’s bulky form lifted easily, unlike Hosea, admiring how he made it seem so effortless. The others called him the camps workhorse, and you didn’t fail to see why, keeping your eyes firm on the man as he carried him towards the door. 
He shrouded you in uncertainty; he did, and you weren’t sure how to behave in his bold presence. You often felt like a goody two shoes, and even though you weren’t the perfect picture of a law-abiding citizen, you could honestly say you were a wimp compared to Arthur. 
You should be embarrassed, you really should, but there was something in his eyes– something that made your heart race. Utterly shameless, yet desperate to lock gazes again despite contradicting yourself and avoiding them every chance you could. Before you could get caught this time, you directed your eyes, focusing on tightening the bandages so they wouldn’t come loose. 
“Try to be careful, will you, Charles?” You spoke quietly while patting his hand, motioning that he was all set to go, but his hand stayed, giving you a grateful look. 
“Thank you.” His soothing voice was hushed as the loud bang of the door slammed shut not long after, ridding you of the tumult after their departure. 
Oh, it burned. It burned so deep in his loins that it felt like he would erupt into flames any second. Despite the cold surrounding him, he was sure it could be possible the more he was left with his thoughts. The hushed whispers, the soft touches, and the ever-so-gentle look in your eyes made him want to empty the little food in his stomach. 
“Sneaky little rat,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he shoveled his way through the deep layers of snow. Here he was, out in the cold, tortured by the howling winds of the snowstorm, while Charles remained inside the warmth of the hut, seated next to you, all because of a slight burn. 
He knew what he was up to–what any man would do if it meant getting your attention–and he wasn’t humored. Taking advantage of your good nature was downright uncalled for, bordering on immoral, which Arthur would probably realize wasn’t Charles’s character if his mind didn’t seek to find faults with the man the more his blood boiled.
He scoffed to himself, stabbing the ground maliciously, imagining your warm hands around his instead, the nimble fingers of yours tending to him as you moved in closer, your sweet smell reaching his nose as you gazed up at him, face blushed from the cold with lips begging him to warm them up with his. The thought did nothing more than cover his whole body in shivers, only to be reminded that it wasn’t him that received that attention from you.
“What are you huffing about over there, Arthur?!” Hosea’s strained voice attempted to shout over the loud winds, standing up to rest momentarily.
“Why don’t we just bury him when the storm has settled?!” Annoyance was apparent in his voice, the green jealous monster still wreaking havoc in his mind.
“I told you, the snow will be too heavy tomorrow, so we need to finish it while we still can!” He groaned, starting to shovel once more. “And I’ll be damned, we are going to give Davey a proper burial. He deserves that much!”
As Hosea blabbered on about justice and other forms of respect Arthur had no intent on listening to, he zoned out, feeling sorry for himself as he imagined you might be keeping close to Charles right this moment, warming yourself to his body in a desperate search of bodily heat. Rubbing the melted snow off his face, Arthur damned the heavens above for making him the unluckiest bastard in the West. 
Despite Arthur seeming dead set on you being lovey-dovey with a man you barely knew, Charles had left you after making some small talk, mentioning that he would try and get some well-deserved rest after the tumultuous past few days. Many others did as well, attempting to ease their minds from the constant threat against their back amidst the terrible cold.
Although, as days passed and John being back rid you of Abigail’s constant muttering, the cold only seemed to take its toll on you, unlike the others who quickly got used to the environment. Furthermore, the days only seem to get longer up in the mountains, and you wondered obsessively when you would get the chance to leave–damning everyone who thought seeking out Colm O’Driscoll in your compromised state a good idea instead of moving forwards.
Despite your dismay, you put yourself to use like the others, preparing to help Pearson in the grim act of cutting through the poor deer that had been brought back. While the sight gladdened you, knowing you would finally get a meal in your stomach, the brooding aura of a chestnut-haired, blue-coated man seemed to rain over you endlessly.
What could you have done to gain his stinging glare? It was almost cutting through you entirely from the burning that resided deep in his eyes, watching you ferociously, making your hair stand on edge. When he had returned with Charles, it had been nothing short of unpleasant ever since, although thankfully–despite his glare–his harsh words were directed towards Pearson instead of you, which you were glad for.
“How’s the cold treating you?” Glancing away from the two men bickering, you laughed slightly at Charles’s innuendo, dressed worse for wear as you pulled the thick, woolen scarf tighter around your neck, hugging yourself to keep warm.
“Could be worse, I guess,” you said, clouds like smoke surrounding you as you talked.
“I suppose. Still, I don’t want you freezing your fingers off.”
“Mhh,” you nodded thoughtfully, speaking up after silence. “Who would look after your hand if that happened?”
He chuckled heartily at your unsuspected joke, and you glanced up at him bashfully, a light smile covering your face at his apparent amusement. While your embarrassment of being so easily swayed by the cold, it felt nice having someone take notice of your obvious discomfort, even though you would say you were pretty good at keeping it to yourself. You couldn’t be surprised, though, well aware you and Charles were both tentative to your surroundings, always knowing but rarely telling.
“Here.” Taking off the large gloves covering his hand, no doubt doing an excellent job keeping him warm, he grabbed your trembling hands in his, rubbing them between his pleasant temperature hand and bandage-covered skin before gliding the fabric over yours. 
“No, Charl-” you protested, trying to stop him from continuing. 
“They’ll do you more good than me, I promise. They’re just in the way.” Stubbornly, he planted your hands back into your lap, petting them like you had done to him some nights ago before raising with a huff. 
“Thanks for the help, Arthur.” Charles nodded at the now grumpy man observing him as he rested against the wood of the wooden wall with arms crossed, seemingly ignoring Mr. Pearson’s lecture about the navy he felt so strongly about, only providing a quick tilt of his hat before heated eyes were set on you.
Your gaze faltered, the blush on your face from the cold only intensifying the spread of warmth you felt from gaining his profound stare–something you rarely took notice of. It wasn’t that he didn’t look at you; he probably looked too much at times, but he was never so ardent with it, scrutinizing you under their heavy weight–making you feel ten times smaller under his towering height. 
“Well, why don’t you skin the deer, Arthur? I’ll help you cut them up in a while, miss.” Mr. Pearson’s words were hasty, and you didn’t miss the bottle glistening under the sunlight as he tried hiding it behind his coat, scurrying away. He would, in fact, not be back; you were sure of that much. 
It wasn’t often you found yourself alone with Arthur, and you never strayed too close, finding his presence somewhat daunting. Not that you’ve had many chances to speak amidst all the chaos surrounding you, and being relatively new to the gang meant the trust lacked significantly from both sides. But, the intrigue was always present in every glance and movement.
You felt his gaze fixed on you a moment longer as you stared heedlessly at your hands, rubbing them together anxiously, having no clue what to do with yourself. While you weren’t one to speak the ears of others, you never had any problem socializing with those around you–but Arthur, he was something else entirely. Finally, though, he moved, approaching the hanging carcass.
“How are ya?” His sudden words surprised you, hanging awkwardly in the air.
“Oh, um. Good?” You cringed at yourself, finding the words stuck in your throat as his voice rumbling was loud and confident.
“Cold?” 
“A bit,” you said softly, staring at his back as he heaved the skin away from the animal, movements rigid and harsh. “Charles gave me his gloves, so it’s a little less chilly now.” You stumbled over your words, admiring his strength unabashedly as he hauled the skinned deer over his shoulder, slamming it down the table with a loud bang. He gave you no answer, instead bringing out the knife in his belt to do the job you were assigned to.
“Oh, let me!” Standing abruptly from your seat, you stepped towards him hurriedly in shame, feeling like you were just lazying around while Arthur was doing all the hard work. 
Grabbing his thick coat to let you take his position, you found him staying right where he was, looking down at you when your hand rested on his bicep. It was unusual for him to be so close, and a blush warmed your cheeks as his towering frame became more apparent when standing a short distance from one another.
“S’alright.” He spoke lowly. “I’ve got it.”
Your breath got caught in your throat as he gazed wholly at you, letting you know he had no problem with helping you. It warmed you, finding his action kind–just like the small acts of kindness he reserved for the other girls. You would sometimes glare after them, intensely jealous that Arthur seemed to have a soft spot for them, yet acting like you didn’t exist.
“Anything else I can do to help since you just did my job for me?” A shy smile found you, peering up at him as he sniveled, glancing at you while you sat on the bench again.
“Well, you’ve already done your charity work for the day, so you’re fine.”
“Charity work?” You wondered, staring at him curiously as he cut through the meat. “What do you mean?”
He only sighed heavily, like you should be able to understand his cryptic words. 
“He won’t die from a small burn; it ain’t enough reason to coddle the man like a child,” he grumbled. 
It took you a while to get the gears turning, but when you did, you felt yourself grow shy from his statement. “Charles? His hand isn’t looking too good…”
“Yeah? Well, you shouldn’t be so forward. You’ll give the poor man false hope.” He scoffed, stabbing the poor carcass harshly.
Staring at his back in disbelief at the sudden hatred, you had trouble understanding where it came from and why he suddenly grew so invested in whom you diverted your attention. You and Arthur rarely spoke, only changing quick words occasionally ever since you found yourself staying with the gang, and for that reason, you had failed to understand the reason for his hatred.
It seems all you ever did was look after everyone else, paying attention to their various troubles and tribulations regarding bodily harm. It wasn’t strange to you, and by no means did you give anyone false hope, merely trying to find your place with these people, an attempt to prove your usefulness.
“False hope?” You questioned, baffled. “I’m trying to help; I fail to understand how that is a problem.” 
“It ain’t a problem!” He grumbled, voice roaring hotly in his chest as he resheathed his knife and began to make his way out, repositioning his hat without glancing at you. You followed him, stopping short by the table as you didn’t want to stray too close to the fuming man.
“Well, it is since you are so angry about it?!” If this was how he carried out every conversation, you were glad the exchange of words wasn’t typical between you, more so the simple fact that your company had never seemed to bring him any enjoyment. “What’s wrong with you?”
“Wha-” He stops short, suddenly turning around and stalking towards you in significant strides. Gasping at suddenly having him so close, you backed away; his sharp eyes penetrated you as the warm blue of his orbs turned ice cold, glaring daggers into your own.
“What’s wrong with me?” He spoke dangerously low as his brows raised, grabbing your upper arms as he hoisted you up the table without an ounce of struggle. “I’m not the one taking every small, insignificant chance to take advantage of your good nature.”
“Charles’s not like that. He’s very kind.” You spoke in his defense, leaning back from his prolonged stare that seemed to cut through you deeper the more he stared. You had always pitied the people who got on Arthur’s lousy side, finding his presence at those times unnerving. 
Now, it seemed you were at the receiving end of it, and while it chilled you to the bones, you weren’t sure if your beating heart were because of fear or the thought of him being the closest to you he’d ever have.
You had never quite got to admire his eyes, always hidden under his furrowed brows and squinting eyes. Now that it wasn’t because of the blazing sun down west, it was from the blaring whiteness of the snow surrounding you as you found his eyes glaring at the current climate more often than not–displeased.
His eyes being dead set on you didn’t help as you could hear his breathing grow heavier, the warmth of his breath hitting your cold cheeks as his broad frame blocked the chilly winds from reaching you.
“Kind, huh?” Although momentarily distracted, you recovered as you heard him speak in a low voice, still finding his assumptions wildly out of reach while insulting you and Charles. Times were hard, and if you couldn’t look after one another, it would surely lead to your doom–Arthur, if anyone, should know that.
“Yes, kind.”
Rubbing his eyes with one hand, he backed away from you, shrugging his shoulders while walking away–like your conversation hadn’t happened in the first place.
“Sure.”
It wasn’t like Arthur didn’t know how to restrain himself, for he applauded himself for avoiding his apparent anger when Charles had, yet again, stolen away your attention–not that Arthur had any plans on striking up a conversation with you anyway. 
It became clear to him that when you two were left alone, you almost turned into a living statue, barely responding to him. It was unlike you, for the time he had spent observing you, you had no problem talking to anyone else–and although it was usually calm, it never deterred you from gaining the likes of the others and liking them in return.
Why did you cringe away from him and not Charles, he pondered, glaring at the picture that plagued his mind. The reason he knew, deep down, but his stubbornness didn’t let him justify your actions. In all honesty, Charles was a more reliable man than himself, intentions often apparent with a slight sense of, well, goodness perhaps—something Arthur didn’t possess in the slightest.
Goodness, in all honesty, wasn’t something he was too familiar with, and he didn’t doubt one second that you found his character to be callous, seeing as the dirty work no one wanted to do fell upon him; work everyone else found to be too cruel to do themselves. He could almost feel your disapproving gaze when he picked up his slack from Mr. Strauss’s poor victims that he always tried to prolong, and while it wasn’t his most favorable way of lending a hand, sometimes he did it out of spite. 
If that’s what you thought about him, then he couldn’t do much to sway your opinion, finding it much easier to continue with his ways than realize that your sudden carefulness off him wounded him more profoundly than he let on.
And, he was indeed a harsh man in your eyes, and although his company wasn’t entirely unwished for, he was still grim–ignoring your presence like you weren’t there most of the time. It made you wildly unsure of him, but the allure he had kept bringing you back, always wondering when you would see a glimpse of him again. You chastised yourself for it, more so now that you got a taste of his famously sullen mood that pestered everyone around him, but your eyes were still drawn to him when he was nearby. 
Maybe it wasn’t what everyone else would describe him as, but you thought of him as mysterious. Gods, you have stayed with this group for quite some time now. Not once had he spoken to you more than the standard greeting, and you didn’t know much about him besides the sharp-shooting, brutal force of a man who had no problem letting his thoughts be voiced, even though the listeners might be less inclined to its harsh deliverance.
He had been cruel, sure, but you couldn’t help but remember how close you had been before when he spewed words that clung so viciously from his tongue. Faintly, you remembered the deep scent of gunpowder and smoke, something you were certain probably penetrated his skin by now, but also the slightly musky scent hidden underneath. Your head raced in curiosity, wondering how his hands would grab you if it wasn’t in anger. Was he even capable of that, you pondered.
It’s ridiculous you knew those thoughts were born from misconceptions and assumptions. You had heard how he behaved amongst the camp women, forever gentle and careful, and you had sharpened your ear when you’d been told timidly about his earlier flings. He could be more heartfelt than your head let you acknowledge, and the thought made your head spin even more with your endless imagination.
Despite the inner turmoil that filled you from your earlier argument, you had avoided him for some days now, and it seemed to grow easier the colder you got, huddling close to the fire with every chance. It was the only thing keeping your thoughts occupied, wondering when you would get to leave this desolated mining town that grew more covered in snow the longer you chose to stay.
“Do you need help, Hosea?” Just after you spoke, heavy blankets were handed to you, the fabric made from a thick wool that looked heavenly. “Yes, thank you. I take one step outside; I fear that it will be the end of me.” You only stared warmly at Hosea, who patted you on the back. “Don’t you worry, miss. We found more blankets we thought had been lost in that dreadful storm, so we all will sleep warmer tonight.”
“Oh, of course, I’ll help-” Despite the whistling winds that had picked up as the sun shone its last tendrils, you didn’t oppose the idea, but you were interrupted by a mischievous look handed to you by the older man.
“Make sure Arthur grabs one, too; you know how he gets.” Before you could question his meaning, he slunk away, pulling the warm fabric tighter around his shoulders without a glance at you, chuckling merrily. You chose not to ponder too hard on his strange ways, instead making your way to the door, shivering badly as you stepped outside.
Smiles were all you were greeted with as you handed them off, and it was no surprise as it was a welcome sight to everyone to gain some extra warmth to wrap around themselves. Although feeling content by being of help, you couldn’t help but wonder where Arthur could be, a single blanket now left in your hands.
Grumbling to yourself, you stepped out from the hut Dutch and Molly resided in, glancing at a smaller building some paces away, finding the orange glow of a candle lighting up the smaller barn where the horses were kept. A small smile found you, finding it very fitting for him to be where there were fewer people. 
Although slightly fearing what could come to be an awkward encounter, you found yourself being too forgiving many times, and you damned yourself for it. What he said hurt you deeply, making you ponder if you had given Charles other signals than intended. It could be a possibility, yet you had never had too many romantic dealings with men to presume that that was the case, but his eyes held something tender the last few times you spoke as you recalled it.
“Arthur…” As you stepped inside after pulsing through the thick snow, you searched for the blue coat you had grown familiar with in this weather. “Are you here?” You asked quietly, wondering if he could hear you.
You cautiously stepped further into the barn, placing your feet steadily on the ground before you so you didn’t slip and embarrass yourself. It was friendly out here, you could admit, the snow muting every sound and almost making every slight sound caress your ears. 
As you stepped further inside, it turned out he was here, and he took no notice of you as you rounded the corner to gaze at his seated form, seemingly writing something in his journal. It was an unusual sight. Sometimes, you observed him as he wrote in his journal back at camp, yet you didn’t make a habit of it, too shy to question him at the time.
How he didn’t freeze to death in this climate was beyond you, his fingers bare as he scribbled, fingertips red from the cold and dirty from the chalk. You made a motion to speak up once again but found yourself tongue-tied as you took him in, and as you did, the thought struck you that he wasn’t writing but drawing.
How unlike him, you thought, watching his brows furrowed from time to time, fingers moving expertly while the soft glow of the candle beside him almost softened his features. Your presumptions might be harsh, but you had never found him to be a man well-versed in the creative aspect of life, and while the brutal ways of his life spoke for him, you found it to make him slightly more approachable. 
“I didn’t know you draw.” You stated fondly, his eyes fitting into yours the moment the first word left your mouth, growing visibly stressed as the journal was planted into his coat pocket. A rough cough left him as he did, eyes faltering when he saw your observant gaze linger on him unabashedly.
“I don’t.” A small laugh left you at his abrupt words, not teasingly but perhaps warmly, choosing not to bug him since he grew uncomfortable before your questioning eyes. 
You were given an expectant look that reminded you of your actual business here as you stepped inside the building, closing the barn door behind you to shut out the wind that somehow managed to find its way through the cracks in the walls. 
“Here, we found some more blankets. Hosea asked me to bring you one.” You met his eyes briefly as you stretched out your arms for him to take the blanket, eyes faltering to it at his piercing gaze.
“Hosea, huh?” A scoff left him, resuming his arms to cross over his chest, shaking his head slightly. “You keep it.”
“No, I-” 
“Nah, you chattering your teeth keeps us up at night. Take it.”
His words should have taken you back since his voice was stinging, but a light laugh left you, knowing he was right. Wrapping yourself in the soft, warm blanket, you surprised Arthur by sitting beside him, heavily clad shoulders touching each other as you did. 
“I don’t understand.” You stated, staring at the large shadows that flickered on the wooden wall before you. “How can you not be cold? I feel like if I spend one more day out here, I’ll freeze to death.”
You turned your head towards him, caught off guard when you felt his gaze already set intensely on you. Your eyes faltered to his chest, growing shy as you always did when you had his attention on you. It wasn’t unwanted, but you didn’t know what to do with yourself in moments like that, unused to the fire that always burned so deep in his eyes.
“Used to it, I guess.” His voice rumbled hotly in his chest, fingers flexing against his will as he took the chance to observe you. He had never had the opportunity to see your face this close. Your wet lashes clung together as you blinked, undoubtedly from the heavy snowfall outside, framing your eyes that Arthur always noticed were so very easy to read, yet at many moments also locked away.
“I don’t believe you.” How could anyone possibly get used to this? It was raw, pure torture. 
You didn’t get an answer, and as you returned your gaze towards the wall, Arthur’s eyes found your features again. He had indeed been cold before you came, but it was his only chance to find a moment of peace; the thought of spending another night in that god-forsaken hut with his dear friend and his lover giggling the night away grew incredibly distasteful.
Here, he could finally hear his thoughts, the solitude of the snow muting every sound heavenly; the only noise was the familiar scribbling in his journal as he wrote about the past few days. Though his head was calmer than before, he still dreamt of your fingers encasing his like they had done Charles, the small, elegant touches rising his arms slowly, making him shiver wildly as the scene flashed before his eyes. 
He knew he shouldn’t think of you like that, and he certainly had no right to be angry at Charles since he felt so unabashedly filthy things about you, but he couldn’t help it. Your every scent, every motion set his blood afire; small deeds of good you always found yourself doing so harshly contrasted his actions he couldn’t help the fact that you intrigued his whole being. 
So good, so… soft and warm. As he stared at you, all he wanted was to reach out and pull you closer to him so he could feel your shivering body close to him, knowing many ways to warm you up. Sighing, he removed his hat, running his fingers through his hair as the thoughts took a turn he always hated himself for.
“Hey, I uh…” Arthur trailed off, finding the words he wanted to speak stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way, like I did back then.” He stared before him, yet he felt your eyes heavy on his.
He did feel bad, and it had been the reason for his brooding temper since then, not coming to terms with his wrongdoings until now. He had probably scared you, he concluded, and could only assume he was right as you had done your utmost to avoid him as of late.
“Don’t be,” you said with a light smile, not expecting his apology, even though he didn’t say sorry directly. “It’s a lot right now, I understand. But I still don’t understand why you’re so angry at Charles.” You were briefly met with a light sigh, eyes flickering to yours before diverting the flickering candle. 
“Nah, forget it. Just me being stupid is all.”
“I don’t think you’re stupid. Maybe you’re mean sometimes and grumpy,” you said, giving him a teasing glance. “But not stupid.”
A scoff left him at your words, yet you could see the corners of his mouth chirp up lightly. “You’d be surprised.”
As your snickering died down, you rested your head on the wall behind you, not wanting to leave the quiet comfort you found yourself in nor the conversation that panned on longer than you had anticipated, much to your surprise.
“Why are you out here if you are so cold, girl?” He questioned you, catching a glimpse of your almost blue lips. “Go on inside; you’ll freeze to death if you stay here.” It would be best for you to return because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if his thoughts progressed like they did before in your presence. As he placed the hat on his head again, he glanced down quickly, doing a double take as he found you staring at him. 
Was the cold finally getting to your head, or was it simply being in the presence of the man you were so unsure of but wildly intrigued by? You couldn’t tell, but the warmth spreading in your stomach as he glanced down at you spread ferociously through your stomach, almost warming you to your fingertips. 
Suddenly, Arthur moved his arm slightly, and the motion made you jump, leaning away from him as you unconsciously drew closer to him. You couldn’t tell, but it almost felt like your body sometimes contradicted your mind, defying your sense of morality.
“Are you afraid of me?” He questioned, gazing at you unexplainably. Both of your breaths were audible in the quiet night, blowing like smoke out your mouths as the world around you blurred. It wasn’t like Arthur couldn’t contain himself around women, but you were something else entirely. Only in his wildest dreams did you stare at him like that, like you were expecting–waiting– for him to do something. 
Yet, you looked guarded, like a cornered lam, waiting for the right moment to sprint away. You pulled away, only to lean in further, the cogs in your head turning something so awful in your mind, observing his every move yet not registering your own that reached out to him.
And gods, did he want to do the same; his internal battle proved to be more difficult as your hand gripped his coat tightly, only wanting to warm your blue lips with his own and show you how he could warm you up better than Charles’s damned gloves ever could.
“Sometimes.” You let on, voice shaking from both anticipation and uncertainty.
Leaning down towards you hesitantly, he felt hot all over when he realized you didn’t shy away from him like expected, mouth only parting further as he drew closer. As you did, you felt your breath hitch when a hand was placed on your upper back, Arthur’s weight only making you glide further down the wall until your head was resting in the crook of his elbow.
“Arthur…” He was so close now you could almost feel his heartbeat through the vast amount of clothing, breath hitting your cold, blushing cheeks as he leaned closer, the calling of his name only drawing him in. He was sure you had bewitched him, for not a single thought in his mind was about anything but the woman in front of him, entirely and utterly overtaken by what was solely you.
And through those few moments between frustration and desperation, all senses of logic disappeared as the skin of your lips conjoined, drawn together like magnets that snapped together like they never wanted to be apart again. Eyes grew shut, the only sound now the deep humming in Arthur’s chest as your hands found his cheeks, caressing the chilly skin under your palm with your thumbs.
It was ragged and scarred, a deep contrast to your own that had never tasted the metal of a gun and the blood of a foe, and the thought made a gasp rise in your throat as his weight fell heavier onto yours, pressing you into the hay-filled, snowy ground. 
“Tell me to stop.” He grunted against your now wet lips, only taking a second before joining them again. He was covering your entire body as he lay above you, resting his weight on his elbows as your head rested on his arm. 
“No…” You mumbled, words almost not audible against his desperate mouth, feeling just as affected by the desire as he did. You felt his face scrunch up almost painfully before he took the hand that rested on your back to glide under your coat, resting it on the side of your waist as he stroked gently, feeling the curves that hid underneath the damned fabric.
It was torture. It was an unexplainable torture that you would freeze to death if he removed the clothes that covered you, and he would surely go insane if he couldn’t feel the skin he imagined would be so very soft under his rough fingers. Just a taste, he thought sinfully to himself, slowly lifting the fabric of your shirt from under your skirt’s waistband, worming a freezing hand inside to feel the warmth that hid underneath.
You gasped at the sudden sensation but were quickly silenced as his tongue massaged your own, and the slight moan that left you only made a groan rumble loudly in his chest. The feeling of his cold hand rose your skin, stroking every bit it came across as if memorizing it to his brain, mapping out every single inch. 
It was too much for you, the sheer desperation and want, not knowing what to do with yourself or how to dampen the intense feelings that nailed your firm to the ground. Every bit of you grew into static, and every touch from Arthur sent shockwaves through your body as his fingers caressed you.
“Come here.” Opening your eyes, you found his, although lidded with desire, gentle eyes gazing into yours, pulling his hand reluctantly from your waist to help you sit up. “I won’t let you lay on the ground.” 
You only stared at him as he seated you on his lap, chest flush against his as his hands stroked along your arms as if to warm you up, tightening the blanket around your shoulders. You felt your heartbeat pick up at his actions, your stomach fluttering fiercely as he ensured you stayed warm.
You could tell he grew wildly unsure as you remained silent, clearing his throat as if he had been in a daze before speaking. 
“If you’ll have me, that is.” You didn’t give him a chance to say more, hands finding sanction in his hair as the motion knocked off his hat, exposing the sandy locks he always kept hidden underneath it.
“Stupid question.” You mumbled softly against his mouth, pressing yourself closer to him as your fingers started fiddling with the buttons on his coat. You could already feel the heat emitting, and your fingers grew hasty as you tried to move faster, the motion of your lips faltering against his eager ones.
You would have been ashamed if it weren’t for Arthur being just as stressed about getting the buttons of your coat loose, hands wounding their way around your waist and pressing you closer to him the moment they became undone. Likewise, you wormed your arms under his shoulder, gasping as you felt the heat buried underneath the fabric, hugging him close as you placed your face into the crook of his neck. 
Breathing in your scent, Arthur revealed in the way you nuzzled against him, feeling a warmth spread in his groin when the thick coat didn’t keep the pressure of your middle away from him any longer. It was heaven, he concluded, trailing his hands down to your backside as he caressed the curves, pushing you flush against his.
Oh, how he reveled in it. He was selfish; there was no denying it any longer, but he craved you so profoundly it would eat him up bit by bit if he couldn’t have you. It wasn’t about Charles any longer; it was about the fact that you had never spared him a glance, almost bordering on fearing him, deciding that everyone else company had been much safer than his own. 
He knew it and had seen it in your eyes countless times. Arthur wasn’t unfamiliar with the look of utter horror plastered on people’s faces, for he faced it every day, and he wanted nothing more than to show you that you had no reason to feel that way with him, for he would never put a single finger that was unwished for on you.
And he couldn’t possibly hold it against you, for he wasn’t a good man, quite the opposite actually, and every lingering touch made him hate himself even more, wishing you would find it in you to push away from him–let him know that if he ever touched you again, you would kill him. 
But, he would find that you didn’t, instead only pressing yourself even harder against him in the cold of the night, breath shaking something so terribly as he moved your lower region against his in a gentle movement. It only fueled his want for you, hands struggling their way up your skirt, caressing your stocking-clad legs as he did, reaching your undergarments with a content sigh. 
His touch lighted a path up your legs, the cold nothing but a memory now even though the brisk air found its way underneath your skirt, following his hands that caressed your inner thighs in soft motions.
It was suspenseful, waiting for the skin to touch the skin, for his strong hands to wound around you as he had already wormed himself around your heart. And as he did, the coil in your stomach grew so incredibly tight you felt like it was too much like his touch alone wounded your every fiber, but instead of hurt, it was an undeniable pleasure that hit you tenfold.
The hand that had crawled its way inside your undergarments stroked alongside your tender parts, never touching you where you wanted him the most–the place that longed for his touch. He had to be teasing you; there was no other explanation as he smiled softly at your expression, gasping for air as you gripped the sides of his arms, trying to push against his fingers. 
“Ah, sweetheart.” He only cooed at you, gripping your wrists with one hand as his other finally glided over the wetness of your heat, gazing directly into your eyes with his sharp gaze, admiring your pleasure-filled face that begged him to give you more, to provide you with his all. And, as he spread your folds with his fingers, the filthiest whimper of pleasure left you, laying its noise into the quiet night with no worry about anyone hearing, only fools deciding to stray outside in this bleak, frigid night. 
Falling into his arms yet again, you let him enter a finger into your warm cavern, gasping desperately for air as the unfamiliar stretch widened you, dragging wonderfully against your clenching walls. It was vile, the way Arthur reveled in how tight you felt against his finger, and as he pondered on how you would feel when he pushed it you. The thought made a striking, white pleasure shoot through him, making him grunt out against your neck.
“That good?” He spoke out, adding another finger into you while placing wet, hot kisses against your blazing neck, wanting nothing more than to hear your heavenly sound of approval. 
You attempted to nod, but the motion was interrupted by the increasingly more extensive stretch from both of his fingers; gasping like a madwoman as you moved against his hands, wishing to pull his fingers even deeper into you, dissatisfied when you realized it didn’t do the job.
He could only groan when he realized your intention, slipping his coated finger from your warm heat, bringing them to his mouth quickly while his other hand found the zipper of his jeans, fumbling in a stressed fashion to get rid of the constraint.
A dissatisfied moan left you as he did, wishing for nothing more than to feel the delicious stretch yet again carry alongside your walls. But, as he fumbled with his zipper, you quickly got your senses together. You helped him undo his suspenders, then slipped underneath the fabric to trail your hand alongside the apparent bulge that stretched underneath, finding his groans to fuel your actions. 
For a short while, your eyes met amidst the hurry your bodies experienced, and the moment slowed down to a halt as your lips found each other once more, moving against one another like starved men. You couldn’t be closer to him, and he couldn’t possibly be closer to you, and while you earlier had pondered that this was a good idea, you couldn’t imagine anything else at this moment.
And, as your hand wrapped around him momentarily, Arthur could feel his brain’s short circuit, like he had never been able to hold a single thought in his mind his entire life. You had to have bewitched him, for he complied to your every touch, body moving against your every move like your hand was glued to his body.
“God,” he mumbled against your lips that massaged his own, thrusting against your hand as you stroked him tenderly, gasping against him quietly. It wasn’t hurried but warm and slow, basking in each other’s presence like you had never before discovered the feeling of another’s touch against your own.
“That good?” You replied teasingly, mimicking his earlier words as you smiled a toothy smile, feeling him chuckle lowly at your apparent teasing, giving you a playful slap on your behind as his breathing picked up.
Suddenly, you felt a hand encase your own. As he removed it from his throbbing member, he only grabbed you closer, wounding his arms around your back as he pulled you into a hug, the feeling of him underneath you wonderful as you glided along it–moaning wantonly as the friction shot sharp streaks of pleasure up your body.
“Come on, sweetheart. I’ll warm you up.” As he spoke, he could feel himself shudder as your wet lips encased his tip, groaning audibly as he thought you rubbing against him. You were illegal, he concluded, for nothing could ever be allowed to feel this good–it wasn’t possible.
“Please,” you gasped against his lips, moving your hips slightly as you felt his hands circle your waist. “Please, Arthur.” 
He hushed you quietly, finally feeling you wrap your lips around him as he slowly entered your warm cavern, the walls fitting him snugly as a grunt left him unexpectedly, lost in the pleasure you brought him. 
While it felt too good to imagine, you could only keep your mouth open at the sensation, wondering how something could ever fill you up quite as good as this. Without a single thought, you sat down entirely, feeling him stretch you wonderfully as you wrapped around all of him, wounding your hands around his neck. 
You didn’t need to move much, for he thrust up into you when you had gotten used to his size, feeling yourself being hitched up to his body as the motion made your whole body rise to then fall back down on him, once more filled to the brim. His grunting in your ears filled your senses, and while the slight consciousness entered your mind, wondering what you were doing, you pushed it far back, relishing in how your body responded to his.
Despite the cold that was surely creeping into your bones the more you stayed out here, the sound of skin against skin filling the empty spaces around you made you feel more connected to each other than you had ever felt with anyone else. 
You started to move with him, bringing down your hips to meet his while he thrusts into you, growing more desperate by the minute. You found the hands hugging your waist, circling their arms around it, pushing you even further against him as you rested your hands on his cheeks, having no choice but to stare into his lidded eyes as he grunted roughly underneath you. 
God, how he wanted to push you down onto the ground and drive into you, damning the snow that covered the ground. Instead, he glided down further from the wall, feeling your weight press against him more as your head found sanction in his neck, feeling his thrusts grow more in power as he pistoned into you harder from the new position.
“Arthur.” You breathed out, feeling the stretch of him grow as the position made him reach even deeper inside you, one arm reaching down to grab your bottom so he could hold you firmer against him.
“I know, honey.” He murmured, head growing dizzy as you clenched around him so wonderfully, mewling sweetly into his ears as you let him take control. 
Did it make him an evil man for reveling in what he knew Charles would never gain from you? Maybe it did, but those thoughts were placed far back in his mind as your lips found his, small moans now muted as you grew desperate for his affection, growing insatiable to once more feel the fondness that laid in his every touch.
He had been so angry that someone else had gained the courage to do what he couldn’t, realizing he had been too late. Yet now, as you remain unknowing above him, it only made his lips plant themself firmer against yours, determined to make you understand that nobody could make you feel this way except him.
Grabbing the blanket off your shoulders, he threw it down towards the ground as you gasped, stroking your waist tenderly before slowing his movements. 
Your breath heaved something so terrible, your voice shaking as you spoke. “Don’t stop, Arthur. Please.” He felt his stomach coil at your words, throbbing inside you as he moved to a seated position.
“I ain’t stopping, sweetheart,” he let on, leaning you backwards lightly. “Lay back for me, okay?” You did as he said without a protest, the cold now gone as your legs spread from him.
He almost groaned from the sight, taking a moment to observe you as you stared at him through lidded eyes, blushed cheeks so wonderfully red against the whiteness of the snow you almost looked like an angel–your hair spread like a halo around your head where you laid on the blanket.
Crawling over you quickly, he grunted as he felt your hand encasing itself around him, stroking slowly as you guided it to your clenching hole. For a moment, he felt a relief spread through him at the feeling of your walls surrounding him before the sheer and utter desperation set in, beginning to move into you at a faster pace than before. 
Your breath hitched at the sudden movement, yet you gripped his arms to keep him there, not baring the thought of him stopping again. Being over you gave him more control, and his primal instincts set in as the coil in his stomach shot burning flashes throughout his body, wanting nothing more than to feel your warm walls around him forever. Maybe it was the desire talking, but he swore that the thought of you being like this with any other man than him would make him heave.
Encasing his arms around you as your hands found his hair, he felt your legs wrap around his waist, now so close he was grounding into you relentlessly. Rough yet tender, he moved into you with care, but you could feel that he was holding back as he panted above you.
“Don’t stop!” You begged him once more amidst his thrusts, pulling on his strands as his lips found the softness of your neck. Why you were begging, you couldn’t say, oblivious to the words leaving your mouth in utter bliss.
“Hm?” He mumbled, smiling lightly from hearing your ruined voice beg him. He felt like a sick man gaining pleasure from it, but his mind was too hazy to take notice, longing to hear those words leave your sweet mouth once more. “What was that?”
“Don’t stop,” you voiced breathlessly as his hand found your breast, rolling the nub softly between his rough fingers. Despite your begging, for his own sickly twisted pleasure his hips ceased their movements, moving torturously slow as he raised his elbows to stare at your tear-filled eyes.
They shot open as he slowed his pace, displeased he didn’t listen as you already felt shameful for sounding so desperate. You couldn’t help it, for it felt too good, and now that he had stopped, you wished he never had. Was he teasing you? The thought made you blush from embarrassment and annoyance, pleading with your eyes.
“No…” You mumbled, trying to move against him, yet his hands held you firm against the ground.
“Say it.” Arthur’s voice was coarse as he spoke, grabbing your hand to place tender kisses on it as your displeased sounds reached his ears. He only got a confused look, smirking slightly at the longing and apparent dissatisfaction plastered on your face. A biting shadowed lust replaced his usually sharp eyes as he watched you, carnal written deeply in his eyes.
“My name, sweetheart. Let me hear you say it.” Suddenly, he pistoned his hips against you, driving up your wet walls as a mewl left you from the sudden force. You felt his intense eyes on you as your eyes shut momentarily, and through your blurred vision, they didn’t stay open for long.
“Arthur,” you moaned, eye-rolling into the back of your head as your back arched, a wave of pleasure shooting through you at his demands. He held the same controlled yet sensual pace, knowing he’d slip out of you if he went any harder. Still, his accuracy was wicked–hitting the right spot with every move.
“That’s it,” he praised you, placing another kiss on your palm as his thrusts increased, grunting roughly as your walls squeezed him tightly. You break into sobs as you reach out to grasp his arms, tilting his head up just enough to let you know he’s watching you, his hazy gaze roving over the devastation on your face. 
The snow around you mutes the sound of skin hitting skin as he sets a brutal pace. “I didn’t tell you to stop, sweetheart.” The deep rumble in his chest as he spoke the words laced with possessiveness made your heartbeat pick up faster than it already was, the light ringing in your ears increasing as your body was hoisted up with each of his thrusts.
You call his name like a prayer amidst the pleasure, and satisfaction at hearing his name come so sinfully from your mouth made his eyes roll back, knuckles turning white from gripping the ground so harshly. Oh, you had no idea that every noise you let out from his advances made his heart soar with pride, feeling the softness of your skin under the palm of his hands.
Arthur feels the abrupt stop of movements from your hand, gripping tightly on his arms as you spasm around his cock, clenching tightly as the pads of his fingers come down to rub at your swollen nub as your orgasmed, a loud whine leaving you at the contact. It’s too much for you, the sensation too unfamiliar yet devastatingly addictive–not knowing if you wanted to drive your hips away from his brutal assault or enjoy him even more profoundly. 
Even if you had decided on the prior, he didn’t let you, pushing you firm against the ground as he twitched inside you at the noises you let out, groaning lowly as he came inside your warm walls, planting himself deep inside you. 
“Christ-” He grunts out, teeth clenched as you feel his cock throb inside you, cum gathering at the base of him as his hips slow to deep thrusts, grinding into you in sheer pleasure as the knot in his stomach unleashed, feeling you placing small kissed on his neck.
The slight motion made him smile amidst his pleasure-filled mind, caressing the curves of your waist as he nestled his head into your neck, still panting heavily. As you both calmed down, it didn’t take long for your hand to find his, fingers wounding themselves around the others in the blissful aftermath.
As you opened your eyes after catching your breath, you found a pair of blue ones already gazing at you. You didn’t speak for a while, both of you trying to digest the situation as tiny snowflakes could be seen falling from the sky through the cracks in the walls. It reminded you of how cold you should have been, but with Arthurs’s broad chest covering you, it felt like you were clinging to a furnace.
“Shit, you must be freezing.” He suddenly let out, shaking his head slightly as if in a daze before rising to pull you with him. As he pulled your skirt down your legs, rubbing them between his hands to warm you up, you could only stare at him in quiet wonder.
“What?” He grumbled out, sniveling lightly as he glanced at you. Had you not wanted this, he wondered, doubt starting to fill his mind. You were too quiet for his liking, only staring at him as he tried to prolong touching your soft skin, fearful of the hurtful words that were sure to come. 
“Are you jealous of Charles?” 
If crickets had been this far north, they would surely be the only thing audible as Arthur stopped. Bear of a man, hardy and stubborn to many, yet a faint blush could be seen rising to his cheeks as his face lowered–wishing so dearly he could find his hat that had seemingly disappeared so he could hide.
If he had been looking at you, he would have seen the toothy smile covering your face, a tender laugh leaving you as your assumptions became reality. You had to give him credit, though, for he had you completely and utterly fooled. 
“No.” He stated firmly, rising on his legs to pull up his pants. He found himself unable to, though, your hand grabbing his suspenders to pull him back down. The same heat that had lessened in his stomach came back as he felt your nimble touch caress him through his pants, gaining a mischievous look from you as you widened your legs. 
“Don’t worry, Arthur. I’ll give Charles his gloves back if you stay here and keep me warm.” 
Oh dear, that would do it. Whatever thoughts that filled his mind flew out the window, wholly consumed by you as your hands caressed his back, staring expectantly up at him. 
“Only me, right?”
“Only you, stupid.”
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