#been getting back into drawing and man... Drawing Arthur has been <3

[argreion]

Ok, so... Even if the break wasn't long, I dealt with a lot of personal things. AKA — realizing your dad basically abused you, manipulated you, and is honestly a piece of shit. Then basically realize why you're an over-apologizer and then cry for multiple hours because 'what are you doing with your life?' Plus your mom and cancer talk AGAIN, having barely any food in the house, and watching an old ass couple fight. Mentally draining, y'know?

Kinda why I wanted a break! But right now working on a bot drop and a new fic. I've been playing RDR2 and married Alex in my SDV playthrough. Might soon open comms for art too! Depends on how things are this and next month.

Shit hit the fan but we still on show biz! (Aside from everything.)

If moots still want my discord or whatnot, you can send me a DM. I'm more active there than on here tbh, I answer DMs pretty fast! :3

I might make an Arthur Morgan fic... (Uhm, noticed all the guys I heavily like are blond and blue-eyed. Basic ass bitch I am. 💀)

#yay break semi over but still gonna low-key ghost y'all cause I am not mentally stable rn #maybe like 70% of me is stable but I get too stressed out easily #been getting back into drawing and man... Drawing Arthur has been <3 #𝒏𝒊𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒔 𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒔

[justaz]

somehow some time magic goes wrong and young arthurs from different points in time are pulled into king arthur era. everyone kinda has this back and forth of who is going to watch the literal 8 month old. gwen and lancelot are pretty good at taking care of him, so is percival but he doesnt seem comfortable with it so no one forces him. elyan tried to hold him but baby!arthur started wailing after three seconds. leon is sorta good but he has like no idea how babies work or what they need so when baby!arthur found his sword and almost lobbed his own head off, leon was forbidden from taking care of the child. gaius is too old and busy researching how to reverse the issue. who the HELL would trust gwaine with a child? arthur has this Odd aversion to the child but no one pushes him on it. ofc merlin, magic incarnate, has this like aura or energy that draws all these innocent woodland creatures to him so obviously little arthur is also drawn to him. in fact, merlin seems to be the person he likes the most. and merlins a natural w kids apparently so hes often the one that baby!arthur is handed off to.

he complains about it at first but when baby!arthur breaks into a fit of giggles after merlin calls adult!arthur a clotpole, he has merlin wrapped around his little finger. merlin stops complaining but does let arthur know that the one thing he Will Not Do is change his diaper. arthur laughs and walks away. merlin talks to baby!arthur like they’ve been friends for years (bc they have). arthur points out that baby!arthur cant understand him and merlin retorts that its like how it normally is. merlin gets to perform magic in front of baby!arthur and he LOVES it

my point to this was merlin dotting on little versions of arthur is a way that no one ever really did for him growing up and adult!arthur seeing it and healing little pieces of his inner child as he watches merlin play games with baby!arthur and make sure he’s taken care of. it especially hits him when gaius finally finds a way to send baby!arthur back and while everyone seems torn between upset they have to say bye, they’re also relieved to get the baby back where hes supposed to be,, merlin is like choking back fat tears. everyone backs off to give them privacy and merlin just kisses baby!arthur’s forehead and whispers some encouraging and heartachingly sincere words that have adult!arthur choking back tears.

then BOOM the spell also backfires and while yes baby!arthur got back to where hes supposed to be, now theres toddler!arthur. he has this gravitational pull to gaius (can recognize him) and merlin (magic soulmates ofc he has an innate trust in the man). merlin is happy to have his little friend back and gaius goes back to the drawing board. now they have this little 2-3 year old toddling after them and blabbering something that sounds like english if you’re patient enough

(merlin makes another comment about how little arthur has changed over the years)

the cycle repeats, merlin and toddler!arthur get attached and adult!arthur watches and heals a bit more of his inner child. gaius finds another cure that falls through the same way and now they have child!arthur. he has a bit more of uther’s influence in him but hes still a child. he gets hurt and tries to fight back tears but merlin sees he’s in pain and tells him it’s okay to be hurt, to feel pain, to cry. child!arthur says in that stutter cry children do when they’re fighting back tears that his father says boys shouldn’t cry. merlin wipes a tear that slips down child!arthur’s face and whispers about how he cries and lets himself feel his sadness before picking himself back up and dusting himself off before getting back to it, that it doesn’t make him weak but stronger. adult!arthur hears this and this may not be the beginning of his deconstruction but it makes a tremendous amount of progress in him rewiring his brain away from his father’s toxic ways of thinking.

idk if they’d get a teen!arthur since gaius probably would’ve learned his lesson by then but if they did, we’d get to watch Merlin vs Arthur Showdown 2.0 as merlin humbles the young prince and i think that’d be funny. especially for gwaine since he didn’t get to see it happen the first time.

#bbc merlin #merlin emrys #arthur pendragon #fic idea #fanfic #fanfiction #time travel #child aquisition #sorta #i think arthur shouldve gotten to see how someone shouldve treated him growing up #what that sort of unconditional love looks and feels like #as a treat #and who else but from merlin?? the one person who above all absolutely afores arthur and would do anything for him #plus merlin would have that moment as hes putting little!arthur in the center of the spell circle to send him back #where hes like ‘oh god im sending him back to uther to be raised by him. im throwing him to the wolves rn. i need to protect him #from his father’ but he cant bc arthur HAS to go back #maybe thats what he whispers to young!arthur to have strength when facing his father and protect his heart from him #and arthur hears that and is just. a mess. #lancelot du lac #guinevere #gwen #sir percival #sir elyan #sir leon #sir gwaine #gaius #merthur

[solomons-finest-rum]

“As The Crow Flies” (Alfie Solomons x fem!Reader) — PART 2

SUMMARY — By all accounts Anna Gray died in Australia and had no business standing in Alfie’s living room, nor calling the man “darling” for that matter. But there you were, identical to the picture they took when they shipped you off to the colonies.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — Thank you to everyone for words of encouragement and for waiting for the update 💗💗💗💗💗 Goodness, that was one hefty break. I hope the next part won't take me as much, but I can't exactly promise it will be fast, sorry about that. I think this is a part 2 out of 3 and then I'll do an epilogue, but that is still more of a draft than a plan.

WORD COUNT — 2,708

Masterlist

Tommy sat beside Polly in utter silence, watching the cigarette slowly burn between her fingers to the point where the heat nearly touched the skin. Tommy observed it with morbid fascination because it was something other to do than to stay with his own thoughts. And he would not dare to speak to Polly first—not after the news he had brought her this evening.

The clock chiming in the hall let them know it was nearly three o’clock in the morning, but still neither of them moved. The fire went out long ago and Tommy wondered in his solemn silence if Polly would accept a blanket.

“How could you tell me she was dead?” Polly suddenly asked the question Tommy had been dreading for the past hour and then she flicked the cigarette butt straight on the carpet. 

Tommy dared to look her in the eye then and immediately regretted that decision when he was met with nothing but hurt and steel-like anger.

“They told me she was, Pol. I went to the parish myself, saw the documents myself,” Tommy replied calmly.

That signature state of calm didn’t come to him as quickly as it used to, he noticed. These days it required more and more effort; or perhaps the things he chose to do got worse with time.

“Fucking nuns,” Polly hissed and shook her head. “You should have pressed them harder! Should’ve made them talk!”

“Then what, hm? Threaten them? Put a gun to their head, eh? There was nothing else they would have told me, Pol, they didn’t know.”

“I don’t care what! We shouldn’t have just abandoned her like that. Now look what happened, she’s a hostage with another fucking monster, just ready to put his paws on her whenever he pleases!” Polly stood up abruptly and Tommy wondered for a moment if perhaps he shouldn’t slip some laudanum in her drink. She looked frenzied, her hair in disarray and eyes bloodshot. The way Tommy saw it, she was half-ready to walk to Margate on foot and kill Alfie herself.

“Polly,” Tommy moved to stand in front of her just in case she had any ideas. He put both hands on her shoulders to reassure her. “Polly, look at me. Alfie Solomons, yeah? Alfie Solomons is just about the last man you’d find putting his hands on anybody that didn’t ask for it, all right? I swear this much.”

“Jesus, I don’t care what you swear anymore, Tommy!” Polly scoffed and tore herself away. “The man is insane, you said so yourself—many times in fact! We all remember what he did to Arthur! Or have you forgotten?!”

“No,” Tommy replied stiffly. “Perhaps he’s insane, but he’s not cruel to women, Polly, never has been. He doesn’t have the reputation.”

“Well, neither do you, that doesn’t mean one wife’s not buried, the other’s escaped!”

Though Tommy would never admit it, that hurt immensely. That was the problem with people who loved him, he supposed. They knew exactly where to hit to draw the most blood. He willed his face to return to the stony mask it was before.

“But your daughter is not buried and she isn’t gone,” he said. “She’s alive, Pol, I saw her with my own two eyes. She’s alive and we can get her back.”

“Well, that’s not exactly possible now, is it?” she scoffed and turned her gaze back to the fireplace as if some ghostly apparition beckoned her to it. “You said she didn’t know you, I bet that fucking animal has her caged.”

“That’s not true. I saw her, Pol, she looked well.” Tommy felt like stressing that might help. “She has your eyes and your wit and I swear she cooks somethin’ awful, but she’s no prisoner. Alfie is…” He hesitated then, because it wasn’t exactly a comfortable thought to consider. “She’s got him wrapped around her little finger, Pol. You can’t say no to her, eh? Just like I can’t exactly argue with you neither.”

That brought Polly back, even if just to glare at her nephew with fury.

“Pol, I swore to you once I’d bring your children home and I haven’t changed my mind.” Tommy took her hand in his and to his relief this time Polly didn’t pull away. 

“I don’t think Alfie harmed her,” he insisted. “I don’t think she’d let him. Polly, she looked tough. Hardened by life. She’s a woman grown, Pol, and I know she can take care of herself. You said so yourself, eh? It’s grandfather’s gift, reading people. Well, I read her tonight and I know Alfie, too. Something happened to her, that much’s clear, but there’s nothin’ evil happenin’ to her in that house.”

That seemed to satisfy his aunt because she finally took a deep breath that actually made Tommy feel like he could breath himself.

“Why would he tell you to lie to me, Tommy?”

“How do you mean?”

“Why would he think you wouldn’t tell me? That you’d play his game.”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged. “But I know what he wants in return and to be honest his plan wasn’t as delirious as I’d take him for.”

“I don’t care what you discussed with that man, that’s of little consequence,” Polly scoffed. “We are going to get her and we are going to get rid of him once and for all, Thomas, because no one fucks with the Peaky fuckin’ Blinders and no one fucks with the family! Do you hear me?!”

“I hear you.”

“Good. Now get up!”

“So we’re goin’ today?”

“Today!”

Tommy nodded and gently navigated her back into the armchair. He rang the bell for the maid. In the agitated state Polly’s house was currently in, Tommy was sure the servants weren’t really sleeping.

“And get Michael,” she ordered. “I don’t care what that peroxide tramp says about it, he’s coming with us.”

Alfie stood on the porch and smoked his pipe. He let you squeeze his arm in anger while trying to sneak concerned glances in your general direction. Tired of being treated like a spooked horse, you glared at him until he stopped with all the concern. You were tougher than you looked and you would very much appreciate it if Alfie finally admitted it.

“You alright?” Alfie asked you for what must have been the twentieth time and you nodded stiffly instead of a reply.

“Darlin’, I mean it, all right, ‘cause if you ain’t tryin’ to make me bloody worried then you’re doin’ a splendid job regardless, yeah?”

“Shut up.”

“Right, that’s just fuckin’ uncalled for, that…”

“No. Someone’s coming.”

You pointed then to the faint shapes on the horizon, which, judging by the noise, must have been the Shelby Bentleys.

“Get the binoculars, Alfie.” 

“I’ll get the fuckin’ shotgun is what I’ll get.”

“Alfie.”

“I’ll do as I damn well please in my own house, woman!”

“So your brilliant means of operation is just bullets, is that it? What the hell did you expect, that Tommy would just listen to you?”

There was a clear measure of challenge in your words and all you two did then was just size each other up, trying to see who would call the bluff first. Finally, your husband grumbled his best catalogue of swear words and brought you the binoculars you asked for. 

“It’s the Shelbys,” you confirmed.

“Like clockwork, that lot,” Alfie scoffed. “You tell them one thing, they go the opposite fuckin’ direction.”

“Some clock that’d be,” you chuckled. “We knew they’d come. That’s why we’re here.”

“Don’t get smart with me.”

The pipe now abandoned, Alfie checked the barrel of his favourite handgun and reassured himself with the number. The only problem was the Shelby threat looming on the horizon and what looked like three cars, no doubt packed to the brim with Tommy’s henchmen.

“And you’re certain he will help us?” you asked.

“‘Course. Like I said before, right, Tommy’s nothin’ if not reliable.”

“That’s quite generous coming from you.”

“Just ‘cause he shot me doesn’t mean we ain’t kin now.”

“I am many things, dearest, but a Shelby isn’t one of them.”

“Ah, well, too bad. And too late to call the cavalry off, I reckon. If ya changed your mind…”

“That’s not what I meant.” It was your time to scoff. “These people are not my family. You are.”

On a rare occasion when Alfie Solomons found himself something close to emotional, three black Bentleys finally arrived at the quaint Margate cottage. You instinctively grabbed your husband’s arm again. He didn’t flinch, not even when you dug your nails into the skin, hard enough to draw blood.

“Right, gentlemen! And lady. What a lovely surprise, innit.” Alfie beckoned with his other hand, waving the gun about and leaving very little doubt as to the quickness of change in his intentions were the Shelbys not to play along. “Let me simply say: shalom… All right. Welcome. Yeah, that is the message for today, or so one might hope.”

What would undoubtedly be another inspired monologue had to wait, however. As soon as Tommy escorted Polly out of the car and her eyes met her daughter’s, Polly’s knees gave out. Tommy and Arthur caught her just in time and held her up on both sides.

“Anna!” Polly cried. “Oh dear God, it’s really you! Anna!”

You stood still like a statue, at which point even your husband turned to look at you with a mix of concern and fascination. You let go of his arm and focused on Tommy.

“Mr. Shelby. You brought an army this time. Am I to expect a shootout?”

As cold and unmoved as Tommy tried to be, it proved to be hard with a sobbing woman on his arm.

“Or am I to understand you’re here to kidnap me?” you pressed. “Please don’t say my chicken was that spectacular, I won’t believe it.”

“Anna.” Polly squeezed Tommy’s arm and took a step forward. Alfie uncocked his gun. You sighed and wished he hadn’t, since the entire Shelby ensemble now followed with the same.

“What the fuck is the matter with you, you fools! Put the bloody guns down!” Polly seethed and marched towards the house with a newfound purpose in her step. “Anna. Come down from there. You’re coming home with us.”

You looked at the woman you knew was your mother, though now only by name. Your heart didn’t know her and your head was too preoccupied to care.

“That might pose an issue,” you answered. “Because I am home.”

The next person that got out of the car, however, seemed to finally make you shake off your stony demeanour. You couldn’t quite help it, because his face was the first you could actually say was known to you.

“Michael!” you whispered and then rushed down from the porch before anyone could stop you. “Oh dear God, you’re alive!”

You fell into your brother’s steady embrace and though the force of it nearly made him stumble, he held you firmly and wouldn’t let go—not even if the devil himself tried to claim you both again. 

The tearful reunion was so quiet that no one apart from you and Michael could know what words were exchanged. While the Shelbys weren’t exactly the type to interrupt, you could tell that Alfie was out of patience. 

“Are we just about finished, then?” he inquired. “Forgive the interruption, yeah, but it’s gettin’ li’l too chilly for my taste.”

Polly took that opportunity to point her gun directly at Alfie’s head.

“Now then, madam,” Alfie chuckled and stood his ground, though he didn’t raise the gun he was holding. “I’d only ask ya to aim better than your nephew, all right, ‘cause I can’t exactly take no more of this.” He pointed to the injured side of his face. “Once was enough, yeah, so if you’re certain that’s what ya wanna do, I won’t stop ya.”

“Shut your mouth,” Polly hissed. “You shut your mouth!”

“Polly.” Tommy took a step towards them. His voice was full of warning and he ordered his men to stand down with a single wave of his hand. “Polly, think about what we’re doin’ here, all right? We came to get your daughter,” he turned to point at you, who now looked toward her husband with a horrified expression. “She’s safe now, Polly, we can take her home. There’s no need for violence, Pol, not today.”

“Like hell you will!” you protested. “Can you stop talking about me like I’m not even here?! No one’s taking me anywhere.”

“Now then, Tommy,” Alfie sighed. “There I was, mate, thinkin’ we had an understandin’, you an’ I. After all these years of friendship, right, you come to my house, guns blazin’, and with your lovely aunt no less, all in pursuit of justice I can’t exactly give, mate, ‘cause I ain’t the one who took Anna away in the first place. So…”

To everyone’s surprise Alfie turned his back to Polly and opened the front door as casually as one might when having a gun pointed at you turns into something of a daily occurrence. 

“Might I offer you a drink then, uh, Polly, is it? Right, lemme just say that, yeah, I ain’t exactly one for close family ties, you see, that’s just not somethin’ I was brought up with…”

Alfie’s voice disappeared somewhat as he walked further into the house, completely ignoring the chaos on the porch. You tried to rush back towards the house and stomped on Michael’s foot with all your might when he wouldn’t let you go. Michael roared with pain and you took your chance to run, but this time it was Arthur who stopped you and who, all things considered, presented a much sturdier guard than your brother.

“You let me through,” you hissed. 

“Nah, I don’t think so, luv. You’re comin’ with us.”

“Like hell I am!”

Polly, still stunned, turned towards her children and lowered her gun, creating an opportunity for Tommy to catch up with her and take it out of her hands.

“Not today,” he repeated softly. “There’ll be time for vengeance and there’ll be time for justice. But not here, Pol, not now. Arthur, let Anna pass.”

Polly shook her head and spat on the bluish tiles of the porch, thoroughly worn out and bleached by the seaside air. Only then did she notice the curious mosaic right before the front door and the gentle arch forming the words “lethe”. 

“I’m not leaving without her, Tommy,” she warned.

“I know you’re not.”

Out of options and out of bullets, Polly crossed the threshold and she hoped the choice would truly erase the anguish from her memory—if only for a moment.

Alfie’s gambit must have been exactly that from the start, Tommy mused, because as soon as the rest of the Shelby clan entered the house, they were welcomed by the maid with a tea tray. Alfie, now comfortable in his usual armchair, gestured for his guests to sit. 

Judging by his calm and calculated demeanour, Tommy doubted him and his family had been so unexpected. In fact, he just about acknowledged he had let himself be manipulated not once but twice in what was perhaps the strangest forty-eight hours in a long time.

“Right, now, we don’t know each other well so I don’t know exactly what everyone drinks…” Alfie waved at the maid dismissively and she started to serve the tea as if it was any other ordinary occasion. “Feel free to peruse the bar if you so prefer, Tommy, right, but not you.” Alfie settled his only seeing eye on Arthur, though the elder Shelby brother didn’t seem as prone to anger as Alfie remembered. That was almost disappointing. 

You entered the house last, holding your brother’s hand. Michael smiled down at you fondly as if you hadn’t just caused him severe bodily harm. Tommy and Alfie both noted the scene, though neither exactly for the same reasons. Alfie looked just about done tolerating all that whispering between you and your brother and it seemed so was Tommy.

Though neither, exactly, for the same reasons.

“Right then,” Alfie announced. “Should we discuss the terms?”

#peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders x reader #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons imagine #tom hardy fanfic #tom hardy imagine #tom hardy x reader

[arthvrmvrgan]

Arthur Morgan x Male!Reader Hcs

Hey!! I wanted to make another hc list cuz the last one did so well! I made this an x male!reader because as a gay trans guy, there really isn’t too much when it comes to male readers. I just wanna make other people who feel the same and myself feel happy and represented!

Also to add Arthur is autistic in this

Warnings: Mention of vomit

Though he maybe aversive to touch with others, arthur is SUCH a cuddle bug with his partner. When they first start out he’s shy and will hold your hand or wrap his arm around your shoulders.

but once it’s long term arthur gives you big bear hugs, hands around your waist, holding you close by the fire, and of course those soft kisses <3

When he’s drunk, he pulls you onto his lap, smothers your face in kisses, and yells about how much he loves you.

Arthur also gets shy when it comes to talking about his interests. If you mention something like drawing or horses, he’d make a small comment or addition to the conversation. But once he’s comfortable enough, he’ll infodump for hours about horses to you!

Just hold him close, let his head rest on your chest while you pet his hair and he infodumps, and he’s in heaven!

Some pet names he’d call you would include: “Darlin, Sweetheart, My prince, My man, Hun, and Sunshine” :3 When you call him any pet name, his heart melts and his legs feel like jelly

He loves giving and receiving praise! He’ll whisper in your ear “good boy” just to mess with you cuz he know it makes you BLUSH! But he’ll also be like “atta boy!” or “yup, that’s my boy.”

The first time you praised him, it felt really odd for him. He hadn’t been praised like that ever since he’d been with Mary. It felt so foreign but so…good.

His big ol’ heart skips a beat when you tell him how proud you are of him, or how he looks so handsome in that new shirt you got him. He feels like the happiest man on earth

Now unfortunately, times weren’t as accepting as they are now. You and Arthur knew it had to be kept secret for fear of what might happen. You two don’t feel any embarrassment at all, just a need for a safety. The gang knows about you two, most of them accepting you with welcome arms!

You also help Arthur out more with errands, jobs, and chores. Ever since an incident were Arthur worked his way up to illness like vomiting, you’ve made it your duty to lay off the weight on Arthur’s shoulders.

If he needs help with the hay bales, you’ll be right next to him holding one. If he’s going out on a stage job from alden, you ask if you can tag along!

Arthur has gotten better with accepting help or rest, but not so much asking for it. You still encourage Arthur to request help if he needs it, and how he’s not weak for doing so.

There have even been times where you’d yell at Dutch and Strauss to leave Arthur be for a bit.

He’ll sometimes doodle little drawings of you in his journal as well as writing lovey dovey passages about you and putting “A<3Y/N” with a big heart too. He’ll even just doodle random hearts while spacing out and thinking about you..

He gets so excited to see you, even if you can’t tell. The way his eyes light up like a big puppy dog’s as he speed walks over to your horse to greet you and give you a welcome back kiss

He also penguin pebbles and finds random stuff that reminds him of you!! Whether it be a cigarette card, a flower, or even some artifact or object he found…he WILL give it to you!

That’s all for now! If y’all wanna send in your arthur or just any other rdr hcs, feel free! I also wouldnt mind writing more arthur hcs so please feel free to send me rqs!

#arthur morgan #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan rdr2 #arthur morgan headcanons #rdr2 headcanons #autistic arthur morgan #arthur morgan x male reader

[cogneato-inc]

Arthur Morgan x TransMasc!Reader Headcanons

Recently made some Discoveries about myself and in entirely unrelated news found that there is a Severe Lack of Boy Kisser Arthur Morgan

I am now dedicating my life to fixing this issue-

NSFT near the end !

The way he finds out is probably some kind of life or death situation (because of course it is)-

You two are away from camp, on what was supposed to be an easy job - some stagecoach with lackluster security, and apparently quite a bit of cash on board

But of course you weren’t the only ones with your eye on it; a gunfight ensues and long story short you’re injured- bad enough that Arthur notices almost immediately

It’s just your luck that you were hit in the side, you’ll have to take your shirt off to treat it- and as much as you try to protest, begging Arthur to let you handle it alone, he’s insistent that No, you Cannot take a bullet out of your own side, you Goddamn Fool (he’s exaggerating a little, it just grazed you - but he’s so so scared of losing you, why are you being so stubborn ???)

And of course you’re absolutely terrified of how he’s going to react, what’s going to happen to you, will you have to run away ?

But y’all he barely pauses-

You’re a good man, one of his best friends and a hell of a shot - he’s not letting you bleed out just because he’s a little surprised

(+ he’s been all over the place and met all sorts of folks, it’s probably not even his first time knowing someone who’s trans-)

He doesn’t mention it in the moment - doesn’t want to put any more stress on you, or say the wrong thing

But he’s sure not to treat you any different while he’s patching you up, and doesn’t hesitate about your pronouns or name when he talks to you about the injury

Helps you hide anything you need to while you’re healing - if you don’t have a tent he’s offering his own, and snapping at anyone who questions it

When he does eventually approach you to talk about it, he makes sure you know that he doesn’t see you any differently, and that nothing’s changed now that he knows

(Okay he says nothing’s changed but he Absolutely starts calling you ‘boy’ a lot more often-)

‘Atta boy-‘ ‘Good eye, boy.’ ‘Nice shootin’ boy!’

He‘ll stop if you ask, he just wants to make it clear that he doesn’t see you as any less of a man-

If he notices you haven’t had a chance to take off your bindings in a while he’ll tell everyone you’re going hunting together and take you into town to get a bath and hotel room for the night so you can take a break. (He’s a total mother hen when it comes to making sure you’re taking care of yourself)

Arthur didn’t have the best childhood but he’s got a lot of good memories of going fishing with Dutch and Hosea, and he definitely got into all sorts of mischief when he was younger. Roughhousing with John, learning how to shoot, swimming in the creek, etc, etc- as soon as he realizes you probably didn’t get a chance to make memories like that he is On It

He’s always telling you stories about his childhood, and he definitely encourages you to try out whatever you may have missed

If you don’t know how to fish he’s teaching you, End Of

(He pushes you into the water and you end up wrestling him in with you- you both go back to camp soaked to the bone and grinning. Definitely got scolded about all of the mud on your clothes)

Him teaching you how to shave ??? The Proximity,, o ugh

Once you’re together he takes every opportunity to call you His Man <3 <3 <3

On the nsfw side of things,,,

This man has been thinking of you every night for Months and this changes Absolutely None Of That

Of course before he knew you were trans his fantasies were a little different,, anatomy wise-

But he’s still Fucking his Fist thinking of you every night (when he has the energy </3), For Sure

Draws you Naked (whether you’ve been together or not - he has a Great Imagination) and Prays to God you never go through his journal-

Definitely Ogles you while you do chores around camp - Cannot keep his eyes off you

He pretends to be busy with something else so he can watch you chop wood, his eyes drift to your ass every time you bend over to grab anything

He has to physically Look Away anytime you hook your thumbs into your pockets, or stretch, or rest your hands on your belt, or aim a rifle, or haul bales of hay around- it’s torture, replaying in his head on nights when he doesn’t pass out as soon as he lays down.

When you finally get together and find the time to get down and dirty, Absolutely expect some ‘Good Boy’s thrown out -

For one this man has a Massive Praise Kink, giving and receiving - we all know this

But he also wants to give some extra reassurance in the moment, that even fully exposed you’re still a man in his eyes

Him eating you out on his knees in an alley ???

Your back against the wall and one hand in his hair while the other covers your mouth because damn he is GOOD at this but you have to keep quiet-

(Your taste gets him so worked up, he’s absolutely touching himself while he does it - spills on the ground when you cum, his other hand gripping your hip to help you stay upright)

#red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 headcanon #rdr2 #rdr2 headcanon #arthur morgan #arthur morgan headcanon #rdr2 arthur #yay first red dead post !! #also first smvt I’ve ever posted #can NOT stop thinking about this man #I’m open for requests but been in a bit of a Funk so no guarantee I get to them anytime soon- #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x male reader

[bluheaven-adw]

WATCH THE WHOLE THING! Trust me 😏

It's here!!!!!!! I hope this was worth the wait :)

Images and information on a DTIYS below the jump!

This first bit of this might be familiar as it's been posted before. New stuff added at end!

Dark Excalibur Au

Everything happens exactly the same up to then very end of Wizards. The only difference being Jim is able to pull Excalibur then, on his own, making him Nimue's champion. Nimue grants him his crown and restores the trollhunter amulet to him. (Sorry Douxie and Krel, you'll get your time to shine later).. this is when Excalibur's aesthetic changes.

While Jim is 100% human now, he's not without after effects from being a troll. Not much physically (a bit stronger and faster), but personality wise... he's a bit more feral, confident, not really any trace of his former anxieties (except when it comes to Claire). He's not without fear (we don't need gritshaka Jim here...) but has mastery over it. Sometimes he can get a bit more... chaotic and temperamental... than before, but despite that, he's still Jim to his core. Despite all that he's been through, he's still ultimately kind, pure of heart, always tries to do the right thing, fiercely protective of those he loves.... as Blinky put it, a man of honor, courage and valor.

He's stopped fighting his destiny and stepped into it fully instead.

To quote Sakon...

Jim's problem has always been that he cares too much, and the anger inside him burns against the injustice of the world. It's Jim against the world, and the world /will move.

He still has way to much in the self sacrificial department…... but usually remembers that he has a team... literally the roundtable... a wizard, a sorceress... and a literal goddess….. backing him up.

START OF NEW:

You'll notice the blade is whole, not just repaired. Nimue, who for obvious reasons, is not a fan of merlin or arthur... originally only repaired Excalibur's blade instead of healing it. The fractures remained as a check on its power.. kind of like a short circuit. Jim gets no such hobbling. He's entrusted with Excalibur's full power. And if Sakon will allow me to borrow again, his check is in the gem in his crown, but it's only temporary as he learns to control Excalibur's power, and his newfound station and abilities... just a bit of a reminder, but one he rarely, if ever, needs.

There is no incantation on the amulet. It's not needed anymore. All Jim needs to do is think it, and it's there. Excalibur is not tied to the amulet like Daylight was. He can use it without the armor, or dematerialize it if wanted. The armor has two forms, much like Daylight and Eclipse, the 2nd is only a thought away. Normally a steely blue grey, it can shift to black, and if Jim really leans into the power of Excalibur then the whole thing, from crown to blade, turns pitch and lights up. There's so much magic running through him from the sword that his eyes glow with it.

Someone on IG asked if the Dark/Feral bits denoted corruption or Jim gone rogue. The Dark just denotes the color change for Excalibur. No corruption! It's just rockin the black instead of gold. As for feral.... in the sense that he's a tad more aggressive, more willing to finish the fight so to speak. He's got a little wildness, a little otherworldly magic, to him (not in the sense that he's a wizard, just that he's got the magic of Excalibur and being goddess touched).

Now, for the DTIYS!

Rules are

Draw it in your style!

Please no tracing, I want to see what you come up with

Use #DarkExcaliburDTIYS when you post!

Tag me and I will share

Please out a copy of my original art in your post

This will run until June 1

I will pick my top 3 across all platforms

There will be prizes, I just have no clue what lol.

I will link a folder filled with references for you to use! From the armor, to color keys (whenever tumblr lets me paste the stupid link 😡

Have fun!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#jim lake jr #tales of arcadia #dark excalibur #dark excalibur au #darkexcaliburDTIYS #trollhunters #toa #toa fanart #wizards toa #toa wizards #wizards tales of arcadia #rott #toa rise of the titans #rise of the titans #trollhunters fanart #james lake junior #james lake jr

[spro-o]

okay, so,,, i got back to reading 4kota, and i have so many thoughts of literally every nature

SPOILERS AHEAD FOR 4KOTA, NATURALLY!

okay so, allow me to rant a lil

bro why the actual fuck is Arthur just magical hitler now?? 😭 like hello???? it genuinely makes me really sad because he was such a sweet and likable character for most of 7ds and now he wants to create an ethnostate for humans only???? it just breaks my heart, man

SAME WITH JERICHO LIKE HELLO? QUEEN, YOURE BETTER THAN THIS. genuinely tho- nakaba try not to make all your characters pedos challenge (impossible). there are literally so many other ways in which Jericho could have ended up in a similar situation, but nakaba really just chose pedophilia? it couldve been something along the same lines just without the romantic attraction!! a family bond can be just as strong- and it couldve been something like her losing Lancelot or in some other way letting him down, and then thinking that he despises her and holds onto that grudge (which, judging his character it wouldve probably been a small spat that he got over) - but maybe Jericho didnt understand that, or wasnt ready to face him, expecting him to be livid - so she asked for an alternative reality where that didnt happen and they got along great as sister/brother or master/trainee. i wouldnt put Jericho past being so stubborn that she wouldnt believe when Lance would say that he forgave her, and then boom!! same set-up, just without the nasty pedophilia!!

ON THE NOTE OF WHICH- (theres so much of that garbage in nakaba's writing, fucks sake) - i genuinely hate the whole thing happening with Guinevere. the whole non-consensual kiss from a 12 year old to a 16 year old (ewwwww) is one thing, but then when Lance is reflecting on that interaction and he SMILES????

you have no idea how much this panel killed me to see. Lancelot youre better than this,,,, 4 years is not a big age difference when youre in your 30's, but when youre 16???? please,,,, cmon now,,,

speaking of whommmmm~~ ,,, I ADORE LANCELOT!! SO MUCH!! this is to be expected considering i love Ban, bUT- hes genuinely just such a cool and wonderful character that has some sense in him. i especially loved those panels where he was like jumping around to get himself hyped up cuz like!! Ban does that!!!! i love,,,,

elizabeth (looking gorge btw, i love that for her) is unfortunately reduced to an object of fondling yet again 😔 literally like the second panel that shes in and shes getting grabbed and groped by Meliodas?? it just feels mad disrespectful to her really deep character that she has such a minor role when you ignore her being sexualised by Mel (in reality nakaba, but i digest)

i love that panel where Anne tells Isolde about what chastity actually is hbghjnhbjh

I FEEL SO BAD FOR NASIENS WHEN PERCY IS ALL UP IN ANNES BOOBS. genuinely- the dropped bag, and all of he blushing that happened before it during their interactions,,,, that shit broke my heart, man

nakaba try not to draw teenagers naked challenge (impossible) (chapter 86 cover)

this is literally like the cutest fucking thing ever????? i want more calm, slice of life stuff for our skrunglies. they deserve a break

someone, please, stop all this shit going on with Guinevere (writing this while reading chp 87) – I really despise the fact that nakaba has to make like literally all of the relationships either look like they have a massive age gap (Ban and Elaine), or actually have a fucking criminal age gap (Mel and Ellie). it really is not that difficult to just write a relationship where there is a <2 year age gap, did you know that, nakaba?? crazy, I know (deadass, while I don’t ship them, it would at least be bearable if she was also like 15-16, just not 12 TT)

chion is such a fucking pain in the ass oh mah gahhhhhh

I love Gawain’s lesbian antics <3

At this point, though I love seeing the characters interact in more casua circumstances, id rather have more fight scenes than god awful, shoe-horned romances between any two characters of the opposite gender (exceptions being Nasiens and Gawain, my sillies <3)

okay,,, thats it for now, but do expect more at some point or another huiyuvghbijhb

#4kota spoilers #4kota #mokushiroku no yonkishi #nnt #rant #4kota manga #lancelot 4kota #tristan 4kota #percival #lancelot #guinevere #gawain #spoilers

[theswissgirl]

Into your arms - A Saul Silva imagine

Another scenario that I want to write :)

This is a Saul Silva imagine, from Fate; The Winx Saga

In this scenario, I always imagined her to be Bloom's sister and they sort of the share the power of the dragon flame 

Her name is Delilah and she is a fire fairy and of course, she is Silva's girl

Based on Season 2 Episode 3 : Your Newfound Popularity 

(credits to the owner of the picture)

____________________________________________________________________________

I'm out of my head, out of my mind, oh, I

If you let me, I'll beOut of my dress and into your arms tonight

Yeah, I'm lost without it

Feels like I'm always waitin'I need you to come get me

Out of my head, and into your arms tonight

- Into Your Arms, Witt Lowry & Ava Max

After the display Stella put on at the banquet, everyone had gone to retire to their homes, leaving Bloom and Delilah alone at the dining table. 

Delilah was tired and exhausted, she just wanted to go to her bed and close her eyes but sleep has not come easy for her.

For her thoughts were always occupied with one person and one person only.

Saul Silva.

The man she loved above anything else. 

It pains her greatly that she is not able to see him, even after the winx rescued him from being transported to Polaris, she knew that it would be dangerous from him to come see her. She still missed him nonetheless.

Rosalind joins them.

"I know. It's a lot" she says, looking at delilah and bloom.

Bloom was the first to say something, "When we first spoke at the Stone Cirlce, you said the blood witches were the one who kidnapped us and held us at Aster Dell" 

"Is that because of this thing inside us? Dragon Flame?" delilah asked inquisitively, looking up at Rosalind.

Rosalind nodded.

"It is"

Delilah heart starts to race and she feels herself tense at the new found information.

Bloom draws her eyebrows together, confusion evicent on her face, "What about our birth parents? Do they have it too or are they-" Rosalind cuts her off.

"I-- I wasn't lying back then" Rosalind sits down in the chair next to Bloom.

" I don't know where you came from. But the blood witches will. We'll fight them and we'll work it out" she says with conviction.

"you've already kept so much from us, I don't know if we can trust you" Delilah speaks up.

Rosalind clicks her tongue and slides a piece of paper over to her.

"Maybe this will help"

Delilah picks up the paper and reads the contents of it and then pauses when she reads "criminal pardon".

She looks to Rosalind, "What is this?"

"It's a pardon" a voice spoke up from behind them.

suddenly, delilah's heart tightened painfully in her chest and she is overcome with shock and surprise. She whips around in her chair and turns around to see the love of her life standing by the door way. Her breathing picks up and she takes in his appearance. 

He is wearing the uniform of the specialist, his face is clean shaven and his hair is in styled in order, keeping it from crowding his face.

He looked good.

And dear lord did he look good in that uniform, the clothing hugging him in all the right places.

"Silva" her voice cracks as she is overcome with an intense amount of relief.

But Delilah had to be careful as Rosalind had no knowledge of their relationship so she had to try her damn hardest to keep her emotions concealed. 

As did Saul.

When all he wanted was to run to his girl and pull her into his arms, instead he walks down the steps and moves to stand behind her chair, feeling temporarily content with just standing close to her.

"I've been working Arthur for a week for a damn thing. Stella almost fucked it up this afternoon, but..-" Bloom cuts off Rosalind.

Delilah was too stunned to say anything.

" I don't understand. Why are you-" Rosalind cuts bloom off in return.

" It's time to put aside our differences, we have a common enemy. The blood witches are a scourge on the Other World. Everytime wer drive them out, they come crawling back" Rosland says.

"She's right. And if they are gathering strength to make a move, we need to stop them before it's too late" Silva spoke up from where he stood, serving as another reminder for Delilah that he was actually here, he was alright.

______________________________________________________________________

Delilah had the suite too herself.

Bloom was off reading about blood witches.

Stella was with Beatrix

Musa was on a walk with her headphones.

Aisa was probably somewhere with Grey.

Terra and Flora were god knows where.

Once she got back to her room, she immediately changed out of her dress and rid her face of the make up she had to wear. She changed into some black sleeping shorts with a cropped dark green tank top.

She could not stop pacing back and forth, her heart and wind were racing. She knew that Saul was coming to see her as they were not able to even have a conversation in front of Rosalind which meant that now, was perfect for them.

She felt like a high school girl who grew nervous at the sight of her crush. Yes, her and Silva have been together for a whole year now but he still manages to sum a herd of butterflies in her stomach.

It's kind of sweet if you think about, after all these months of being separated, she still feels so strongly about him and their relationship.

It was no doubt the she loved him unconditionally.

A knock on her window interrupts her train of thought, she jumps and whirls around quickly and she sees Saul, waiting for her to open the window.

And when she does, he moves like lightning and pulls her into his arms, stumbling forward at the same time. She is quick to wrap her arms tightly around his neck, burying her face in his neck and breathing in his scent that effectively calms her racing heart.

God she missed him so much.

Saul wrapped his arms tightly around her waist, pulling her in so close she can hardly draw in a breath, he too buries his face in her hair, relishing in the feel of having his girl so close.

"I missed you so much" she whimpered into his neck, tears gathering in her eyes.

" I know, sweetheart. You have no idea how much it drove me insane not having you close to me" He said softly.

He pulls her away from him and moves his hands to cup her face and gently caress her cheeks, his eyes moving all around her face to get a good look at her.

She was always so beautiful in his eyes. And she still is.

He smiles before pulling her close again and leaning his face closer to hers. Slowly, they lean in closer and delilah closes her eyes milliseconds before her lips were going to meet his. Finally, Silva's lips brushed against hers, then he crashes their lips together.

The kiss starts out slowly, giving each other to familiarize themselves again and explore each others mouth. Deliliah tilts her head in order to a slightly deeper angle and she moves to wrap her arms around his neck and interlocking her hands there. She deepens the kiss and Silvas has no problem with that. 

The kiss became more passionate and heated, both picking up the pace so its more faster and rough. Delilah lets out little moans as Silva starts backing backwards towards her bed and he sits down at the edge, pulling her to straddle his lap.

This meant that Delilah face was above his, enabling her to deepen the kiss even more. After a minute or two of their making out, they pulled away from each other, really needing to suck in some oxygen and refocus themselves.

Delilah leans her forehead on Silva's, closes her eyes and smiles.

I've missed that too" she laughed lightly.

He chuckled lowly, "me too love, me too" he pulls her closer to him.

Delilah had to admit, the way they were positioned was making her head spin and she could feel her body slowly coming alive under his touch. 

She's not surprised, her body and mind have gone months without his touch, a reaction was going to be inevitable but she didn't mind.

Right then, a yawn escapes her.

She knew that she wanted him but she was way too tired to engage in that certain activity. Silva could see that too.

"Come on darling, lets get you to bed" he picks her up and carries her to her bed, pulling the blankets from the bed, placing her in it and then pulling the covers to cover her body. He then got in behind her, moving his arms around her body once more and pulling her closer to his.

The proximity of their bodies was making her even more sleepy as she could feel her eyes beginn to feel heavy.

But before she gives into the demand of sleep, she whispers one last thing.

"I love you"

________________________________________________________________________________

1487 words

not gonna bother proof reading her grammatical mistakes, I'm too tired for that.

#winx club #fate series #bloom peters #dragon flame #saul silva #Saul Silva x reader #Saul Silva x oc #firefairy #love #short story #Saul silva x student #Saul Silva x fairy reader #slightly spicy? #magic winx

[symbiotic-slime]

comparing malevolent and venom (or: why private eyes and symbrock are the same ship in different fonts)

spoilers ahead for the venom movies, various venom comics, and s1 of malevolent!!

Arthur is a PI, Eddie is an investigative journalist. Both of them ran into their body mates through their investigations (specifically movies!Eddie, comics!Eddie does not share this origin)

The Entity takes the name John through experiences with Arthur. When Arthur is in a coma for a month, the nurses don’t know his name and refer to him as John Doe. The Entity notices this and finds solace in it. When Arthur wakes, the Entity tells Arthur to refer to him as John. In the Venom comics, their collective name “Venom” came from Eddie being deranged about losing his job as a reporter. He tells Peter to call them Venom, because that’s what he’s paid to write at the shitty tabloids he’s employed at.

(from Amazing Spider-Man #300 [1963])

Though the Venom Symbiote has a name from its home world, many characters throughout the comics refer to it as Venom, implying they kept the name Eddie gave them.

In episode 9, John and Arthur argue until they give each other the silent treatment, leading to them getting caught by the police because John did not warn him there were officers. After realizing they need to work together, John and Arthur escape from the officers (and the supernatural lake monster). Towards the end of that episode, John tells Arthur that “you and I are one, and I need to begin to see us as one.” In Venom: Let There Be Carnage, Venom and Eddie have a rather dramatic break up that ends with them separating from each other. Eddie then gets arrested and brought in as a suspect in Cletus Kassidy’s escape. Venom, in Anne’s body, comes back and breaks Eddie out of police custody. After some apologies from Eddie (though if you ask me Venom also should’ve been apologizing but alas) they bond with each other again. Later through the power of love symbiosis, Venom and Eddie acting as one are able to defeat Carnage.

In episode 12, it’s revealed that John is a fragment of The King In Yellow. The cult gives the King the ability to fully realize itself and take over Arthur’s body, but the King is unable to. The part of itself, John, has become so entangled with Arthur that it cannot fully erase Arthur from itself. In the Venom 2018-2021 run (I know, I’m drawing on Cates. i cannot believe I’m using him to prove a point), the King in Black, Knull, is trying to take over Earth. It corrupts symbiotes, makes them nothing more than servants for it. Knull was unable to corrupt the Venom symbiote specifically because it could not burn the light (Eddie) out of it.

(from Venom 2018 issue 3; 5)

Other smaller similarities between Malevolent and Venom (some of which I only noticed because I’m insane):

guy named Eddie

Arthur chokes someone out while not in control of his left hand (episode 2); Venom chokes Dan after taking control of Eddie’s hand (Venom 2018).

both John and Arthur and Eddie and Venom bicker like old married couples

Arthur and movies!Eddie are just,,,, such pathetic wet cats of men

#there’s definitely more that I missed but #yeah here’s some quick comparisons between them #if you like one you’ll like the other trust me #the real question is when will Arthur get have an mpreg arc /j #anyways #hope you enjoy my insane ramblings #venom #malevolent #venom comics #venom movies #eddie brock #venom symbiote #symbrock #john doe #arthur lester #jarthur #private eyes #if I fucked up the episode numbers plz lemme know I did not double check them

[daisyblinder]

Hey lovely! I adore your writing 🥹😍! I’m so happy you’re asks are open!! I’d love to request an Arthur x Reader where they are married & he is super possessive/ worried about her all the time. I know Arthur would be such a simp for his wife and so worried about every little thing she does 😩💔 I’ll leave the details to you!

Thank you so much, darling! 🧡

Arthur definitely would be so doting, I hope you like what I’ve come up with xx

Everything you don't / Arthur Shelby x fem! reader

🦋 Warnings: Cursing, violence

Covering shifts in Garrison was a pleasant job for Y/n, when the day was peaceful. This happened to be a calm day with a decent amount of patrons but not enough of the party rascals to make it overly loud and busy.

Y/n used to work in the Garrison as a barmaid but then a certain Arthur Shelby had sweeped her off her feet and her days working as a fulltime barmaid were over.

Not by his order, though he did make it clear what was his opinion about letting her try and work herself around drunken men with little to no manners.

The sound of the door has her snapping her head up from wiping the counter. A wide smile spreads to her face as she meets her husbands eyes.

”Hello, my love”, he says loudly before even making it to the counter, making sure everyone hears. Y/n shakes her head with a faux frustrated expression but she cannot wipe the smile off of her face.

She did not mind his posessive nature, she liked knowing she was a treasure to him. He still never treated her like she was an object, he listened to her, he gave her a louder voice she ever could have thought of posessing.

”Hello, darling”, she says with a soft smile before leaning over the counter for a kiss. Once they pull away Arthur remains leaning over the counter to talk to her in a hushed voice.

”Has everyone been behaving? No wandering paws? No scrapping?”, he asks quickly. Y/n shakes her head bringing a hand to his rough cheek.

”No scrapping, no problems today”, she answers still smiling. He always worried himself sick when it came to her.

She could not hide any harm from him nor did she ever have to worry about not having someone to come look for her if she didn’t come home in time. Even in the beginning of their relationship, he’d always been there to make sure she got home safely.

Arthur squints his eyes before nodding and smiling too. ”Have ta make sure me wife is alright don’t I, love?”, he says eyes shining with pure adoration.

Y/n could never get over the look he gave her, it always managed to make her heart stutter and legs give away. She still remembers the first time he set those eyes on her and she would never forget it.

Arthur taps the counter twice before sauntering to the other side of it. Y/n follows his movements with her eyes but gently closes them in contentment, when he comes to her side and reaches a hand to rest it on her hip. Thumb drawing small soothing circles against her through her skirts.

She lifts a hand to rest it over his, now opening her eyes to look at him with an expression that could only be described as love.

Their moment is broken by a man sauntering over to the bar with an empty bottle of irish whiskey. ”Another one”, he says simply setting the bottle on the counter before reaching for a cigarette.

Y/n goes to get one but she hears the sleazy laughter that leaves the man.

”You did good Arthur”, he starts speaking. ”No wonder you come here so often when she is working, anyone would for that rump, and a good fu-”

Before she can turn back around, she hears a sound of a sickening wheeze. Turning around, she sees Arthur with his hand wrapped tightly around the smaller man’s neck. Reaching her own hands to try and ease Arthur up, she goes to speak:

”Arthur-”

”Listen good, you dumb bastard, before I snap yer neck and feed ye into the gutter: You don’t speak of my wife like that, you won’t look at ’er like that, you won’t even breathe if you’re closer than 3 feet from ’er. Now you’ll say ’Apologies, ma’am, goodbye Mrs. Shelby’ and fuck off before I feed you that bottle”

Arthur’s voice is low and menacing as he finally lets the struggling man go. The man starts coughing to breathe. Quickly he collects himself, wheezing out a ”Apologies, Mrs. Shelby- MA’AM! Goodbye ma’am” before staggering out.

”Everyone back to yer business!”, Arthur booms as some customers still stare at them. With his command they turn back to their conversations.

Y/n still has her hands on Arthur’s arm as she looks around to see if anyone needs a drink. Turning back to Arthur she wraps her arms around his waist loosely. ”You shouldn’t have done that for me”, she whispers nuzzling her cheek against the fabric of his shirt.

”I don’t want you to have be afraid because the bell-ends are giving you grief. I won’t have me wife hurt, disrespected or lusted over”, he mutters kissing the her hairline. Y/n hums and leans up to kiss his chin.

”I’m yours to see, yours to kiss, yours to touch and no one else can have me in their hands and in their mercy like I want to be with you”, she whispers knowing how much Arthur liked hearing her say the words, even if they already were plain to see.

”And mine to protect, mine to take care of”, he mutters back. ”I will give you everything and anything”

”You already have, darling”, her words make Arthur smile as they pull away from their embrace so that the people won’t become uncomfortable. One of his arms remains at her waist as she holds onto the hand resting there.

”What do you even see in a bastard like me?”, Arthur asks more from himself than from her, the question sounding joking but she knew a part of it was genuine.

Squeesing his hand, she does not skip a beat before answering:

"Everything you don't"

#arthur shelby x y/n #arthur shelby imagine #arthur shelby x reader #arthur shelby fluff #peaky blinders imagine #request #1k

[ladyfogg]

The Arrangement - Part 1

The Arrangement - Part 1

Fic Summary: Drowning in problems of his own making, Arthur Havisham seeks the aid of the one person in the world who knows him better than anyone else. But what will it cost him this time? (Part 2) (Part 3)

Fic Rating: 18+

Pairing: Arthur Havisham/Male Reader

Warnings: Language, Sexual Content, Mentions of Abuse (physical proof of abuse), Mutual Pining, Oral (Male Receiving and Giving), Anal Sex, Hurt/Comfort, Love, Internalized Homophobia

A/N: Alright so I started writing this when I was watching Episode 4 and then the end of Episode 5 happened and I saw red. Needless to say, I needed to write something to give Arthur the love and comfort he needs.

The night is biting cold, snow whipping around in a swirling vortex of ice and wind.

Late is the hour, barren streets proving Arthur Havisham should not be out. And yet, he is, his boots and walking stick echoing on the snowy stone. He does not feel nor notice the cold, his veins and belly filled with the heat of the gin he downed before leaving his small room. His back still aches, sharp pains every time his shirt brushes against the fresh cuts. It had taken all day to work up the courage to leave, only doing so when he was sure Compeyson would not be returning.

As he approaches the daunting building, he cannot help the cacophony of emotions rolling around in his stomach. It almost makes him sick but he pushes it down. However, that could also be the gin.

Arthur stops just shy of the gates, staring at the manor he hasn’t visited in years.

If it were up to him, he would not be here. He would not even be considering such a path. But as it was, he is desperate. Meriwether Compeyson has proven to be far more dangerous and more trouble than he’s worth. His interests are purely self-serving and if Arthur does not get the help he needs, he will have more than his reputation to worry about. His very life depends on it.

Taking a deep breath, Arthur opens the gate and follows the path to the front door.

A servant answers after several knocks. A young woman, one he’s never seen before. Then again, it’s been ages since he’s stepped foot in this house. She welcomes him in with a bow and offers him a place in the parlor where he can warm by the fire.

“Whom shall I say has called when I speak to the master?” she asks in a soft voice.

“Tell him Arthur is here to see him.”

She nods and hurries off to do as she’s told. Arthur takes off his hat as he stands before the fireplace, the heat of the flames trying to chase the chill away. It’s failing miserably because the chill Arthur is feeling has nothing to do with the winter night. He stares at the clock on the mantle, studying his reflection on its perfectly polished surface. He looks tired, his hair and clothes not as crisp or clean as he’s accustomed to. There are dark circles under his red eyes. He had stopped crying hours ago but it hasn’t yet faded. To him, he looks every bit the desperate scared man he is.

Footsteps sound on the main stairs.

Arthur’s heart races in time with them, listening as they draw closer, his breathing increasing with each second that passes.

“Well, well, well, as I live and breathe.”

Arthur closes his eyes for a moment, bracing himself for the onslaught of emotions as he turns around to face you.

He’s not prepared. He thought he would be, but the moment he lays his eyes on you everything else melts away leaving you the only thing in focus. The state of your clothing suggests he interrupted your evening routine, as he knew he would. A simple white shirt, unbuttoned at the top with the sleeves loose around your crossed arms. Complimented by finely tailored trousers and shiny black boots.

“I apologize for the late hour,” Arthur says, swallowing past the lump in his throat. “Unfortunately, I could not wait until morning.”

“You’re always welcome here, Arthur. I believe I made that clear once upon a time.”

Yes. Yes, you did. Arthur remembers it vividly despite his best efforts. He finds himself fiddling with the hat in his hands. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

You regard him with a carefully schooled expression. He knows you’re taking him in, seeing the same things he scrutinized in his own reflection.

“Come,” you say, motioning for him to follow. “Leave your hat and such here. The maid will take care of it. You look like you could use a hot meal and a large drink.”

You’re not wrong.

Hands shaking, Arthur leaves his hat, coat, and walking stick on a nearby chair before following you out of the parlor. He knows where you’re leading him. He remembers running through these halls when you two were boys, hiding out and listening to your fathers talk business.

Pass the main dining room, down the small hallway to the left, and into your favorite room in the house, the sitting room. Your father made it yours when you grew into adolescence and Arthur remembers the lengthy chats the two of you shared in those comfortable winged-back chairs. Someone, no doubt the maid from earlier, had already brought the fire back to blazing and a silver tray sits on the table between the chairs.

Grateful for the warmth, Arthur takes the one on the right out of habit. It’s so ingrained from his younger years that he doesn’t even think about it. Although, when he means to lean back, he is stopped by pain and must remain sitting up straight.

You close the door behind you. He feels you watching him, feels the intensity of your gaze on the back of his head. When you cross the room and take the chair to Arthur’s left, your expression has changed. As it always did when you were alone.

Arthur envies you for that as much as he hates you for it. It’s a skill he has yet to master and yet you make it effortless. You make a lot of things effortless.

On the tray are two meat pies still warm but by no means fresh from the oven. Along with fruits and cheeses, and a steaming pot of tea which you pick up. You pour him some first.

“Tea isn’t exactly the drink I was hoping for,” Arthur says.

“But it’s what you need. You look chilled to the bone. Is the fire warm enough?”

It’d be easier if you weren’t so nice to him. Arthur almost prefers the opposite, when your personalities clash and that underlying rivalry bred into you by your fathers and their business comes to the surface. It makes what he has to say even harder.

“Yes, thank you,” Arthur says.

You hand him the tea and when he reaches for the cup, your fingers brush.

And linger.

But then you’re pouring your tea and he thinks he may have imagined it.

“Why are you here, Arthur?” you ask. “We haven’t spoken in years. Not at length at least. Not since that day.”

Yes. That day.

Arthur reminds himself of his purpose and does not dwell on the memories. “I am afraid I find myself in trouble,” he says. He’s holding his tea but has yet been able to take a sip. “And I can’t find my way out.”

“What sort of trouble?”

“The dangerous kind.”

You study him over the rim of your cup. After a thoughtful sip, you put it down. Leaning forward, you rest your elbows on your knees and give him your full attention.

“Start at the beginning,” you say.

Arthur does. He tells you everything. About the will, his meager inheritance. His plan to manipulate his sister into signing things over to him. How he enlisted the help of Meriwether Compeyson, and how he’s been blackmailing Arthur to serve his own means demanding money that he does not have.

He does not mention the beating. It is hard enough being so open, he cannot bear the thought of revealing the physical pain his adversary inflicted on him.

By the time he’s done, you haven’t said a word. However, you do pinch the bridge of your nose and hang your head. “Bloody hell, Arthur. What were you thinking?”

“Things are out of hand. It was not supposed to be this way.”

“That is an understatement. Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone?”

Arthur is hanging on by the thinnest of threads and his anger flares at your words. “I don’t need a lecture, I didn’t come here for that.”

“Then why did you come here?” you ask, your voice tinged with agitation. “Why did you come to me of all people? You could have spoken to Amelia, let her know what this Compeyson is planning. But you didn’t. You came, to me.”

Arthur puts his untouched tea down. Doubt seeps into him like the icy winds outside. “This was a mistake,” he says. “I’m sorry. This isn’t your problem. I should not have brought it to you. I thought—”

“What, Arthur? What did you think?”

Arthur can’t bring himself to look you in the eye. Doesn’t want to because he already knows what he’s going to see in them. “I’m sorry to have disturbed your evening. I will take my leave.”

He stands, fully intending to flee back into the cold streets, to flee your warmth, to flee the intensity of your gaze that always seems to burn into his very soul.

A hand closes around his wrist, stopping him. He turns to look at you. You’re standing now, so swift he didn’t even hear you move. “I want to help you, Arthur. I just need to know why.”

Arthur swallows thickly. It’s so difficult when you’re this close. When you’re touching. He pulls his arm from your grasp.

“Because despite the fact that you know my secret, I know yours too,” he says, trying to pull himself together.

You look amused. “Planning to blackmail me as well then?”

“If it comes to it. You’re a confirmed bachelor. You’ve never taken a wife. People talk.”

“I see, so you think planting rumors will do the trick? I’m a powerful man, Arthur. My connections run deep. Ever since my father died, my word is law with my shareholders and it will take a lot to convince them I am anything other than an upstanding member of society.”

Arthur’s temper flares once more, that fire of shame fueled by the inferiority he faces first with his sister, then with Compeyson, and now with you. “How upstanding would they think you to be if they hear you were caught on your knees for another man?” he asks, stepping forward in his anger.

You meet his outburst with a smirk, leaning in even closer, sharing his space. “And whose cock was I sucking, Arthur?”

And there it is. The truth. The dirty awful truth that sent Arthur into a spiral of self-loathing and immense shame. His cheeks flush red and he purses his lips, lacking a response for the mere fact that he has none.

You know you have him. He knows you have him.

Taking a moment, you step away and cross the room to your desk. It startles Arthur to realize you still work from this room, even though your father’s study is yours now by right. You open the drawer and pull out a thick stack of papers. Arthur is rooted to his spot, unable to do anything but watch you.

“Do you know what these are?” you ask, holding them up so he can see yet not turning to face him.

“No.”

“They are your letters. Every letter you ever sent me. Even the ones from childhood, when I was shipped off to boarding school and we were separated. Haven’t gotten any in a few years but they’re all here.”

Arthur’s heart skips a beat. His breath catches in his throat and he finds himself dizzy. “All of them?” he asks in a soft voice.

“All of them. Every single one.”

“Why did you keep them?”

That’s when you turn to look at him. “Why do you think?”

Arthur has no response. He wishes he did. He wishes he knew what to say. Deep down, he knows why he’s here. Why he came to you even as he tells you otherwise. You stand there staring, waiting for him to say what he cannot.

After a moment, you sigh and put the papers back. “How much do you owe Scrooge?”

“Fifty.”

You grab something from your desk before crossing the room toward Arthur. You hold out a bundle of money, far more than fifty. “Take it, it’s yours. Pay off the debt and keep your share of the brewery. It was foolish to put it up anyway.”

Arthur doesn’t allow himself to feel relief just yet. “What will this cost me?”

You sigh and grab his wrist again, this time it’s to put the money in his hand. “Despite what you may think, not everyone in this city is out to get you. Pay off your debt and go back home.”

“I don’t have a home to go back to,” Arthur says hotly. “He left everything, everything to Amelia. All I was left with was a lousy ten percent and told to figure it out. And it’s all because of you.”

You snort with amusement, sitting in your chair. “Tell yourself what you want, Arthur, but I never forced you to do anything you didn’t want. I didn’t force myself on you. And, as I recall, you kissed me first.”

That…is true. Arthur can deny it to himself all he’d like, but this is you he’s dealing with. You who knows him, the real him, better than anyone else. You who have always been there when he needed you.

And you’re here even now when Arthur abandoned your friendship.

“I’m not ashamed of who I am, Arthur,” you say. “Never have been. As furious as my father was, I didn’t backtrack. You may have been able to pin it all on me and that suited your father all well and good, but me? I told my father how I felt. And when he died, I was ready. Fully ready to be penniless. And yet…” You wave a hand to indicate the house around you.

“I’m glad to know your father loved you no matter what,” Arthur says with bitterness in his voice. “While I have been paying for who I am every single day of my life. Suffering, alone.”

“You don’t have to be alone!” you snap, getting to your feet again. “For god’s sake, Arthur! I’m here! I’ve always been here! You were the one who ran away and you were the one who ended our friendship. And I’m sorry that your father couldn’t accept you. But I will not apologize for mine.”

Tears threaten to fall. No matter what he does, Arthur can’t stop them. He turns away so you won’t see. You don’t let him. You slip your hand into his curls and pull him against your chest in a hug.

Despite himself, Arthur melts into the embrace. It’s been long, far too long. He’s forgotten how this feels, how wonderful it is to have your solid frame against his, to feel your hand in his hair and your arm around his waist. He cries, lets the tears go as strangled sobs break through his pursed lips. He does not know how long he stands there crying into your shoulder. But it’s long enough for the tears to eventually fade. He’s too tired, too drained to shed anymore.

Arthur closes his eyes and savors the moment. He doesn’t try to pull away or push you because he can’t bring himself to do either.

Your heat and scent envelop him, triggering memories of years ago when the playful innocence of youth turned into something else, something more.

He was the one to kiss you first, a chaste peck on the cheek in the heat of the moment. Then you looked at him and the next thing he knew, he was covering your mouth with his, yanking you in close and throwing caution into the wind. It never occurred to him in the moment that it was meant to be wrong, that he should not have those feelings. How could it be when you kissed him back with equal passion?

No kiss with anyone else matched it before or has matched it since.

You draw back from the hug, wiping the tears from his cheeks before pushing his curls back from his face. You’re staring at his lips and he aches to close the distance, to give in to the desires he buried deep down long ago.

But he can’t.

He breaks the embrace, clearing his throat and fidgeting with the money still in his hands. “Thank you,” he says. “I’ll repay you as soon as I am able.”

“You don’t have to.” You shove your hands into your pockets. “You haven’t touched your food.”

“It is late. I should leave. I’ve taken enough of your time as is.”

“If you insist. I’ll show you to the door.”

In silence, you walk back down the hall. Hearing your footsteps, the maid rushes ahead to gather Arthur’s things.

“Thank you, Marina. I will see Arthur out myself. You may retire for the evening,” you tell her.

She nods and leaves. You take Arthur’s coat and hold it out for him to easily slip on. When he does, it puts pressure on his cuts and he lets out an involuntary hiss. He can sense your concern but ignores it. While he puts on his hat, you open the front door to reveal the beginnings of a snowstorm. Arthur busies himself with the gloves in his pocket, trying to appear as though he’s putting them on when really he’s stalling. He can’t bring himself to leave yet, doesn’t want to leave your warmth so quickly.

“You be careful out there,” you say, motioning to the weather. “Lord knows we’re due for another blizzard. Are you sure you’re okay to walk? What about this Compeyson fellow?”

“I am sure he’s thoroughly distracted at the moment. I will be just fine.” He hopes.

You study Arthur for a moment. “Do you remember when we were young and would sneak out of the house to avoid our studies?” you ask with a smile.

Arthur smiles back, recalling the memories with fondness. “We’d use the old servant’s entrance in the gardens. Until your father boarded it up.”

“There are many advantages of being master of the house now,” you say, leaning on the door. “For one thing, I can undo things my father did. And, since none of the servants who serve me ever served my father, they are completely oblivious to such facts.”

Arthur’s heart skips a beat. Your tone is casual, however, your words are anything but.

“If someone knew where to look, should they be inclined, they’d be able to sneak in without anyone being the wiser. Food for thought, Arthur. Have a good night.”

He's left on the doorstep without another word.

He has the money, can repay Scrooge, and figure out everything with Compeyson in the morning. Maybe with what’s leftover he can buy himself a few days reprieve from the scoundrel.

Arthur slowly exhales and turns to face the cold winter’s night once more. He gets to the front gate, opens it. And yet, he can’t help but look back at the house, the place where he discovered himself in ways he never imagined. The heat of your hug is lingering and before he realizes what he’s doing, Arthur closes the gate once more.

He leaves tracks in the freshly fallen snow as he follows the all-too-familiar path around back to the gardens. Your thoughts on the weather were accurate. Arthur is in the midst of a full blizzard now and he knows his footprints will be gone in moments.

Where the old entrance once stood is now a wall of ivy, dead and snow-covered. Arthur pushes it aside, his eyes falling on the simple wooden door. He tries the handle and it yields to him.

Arthur pauses, weighing the consequences of what he’s about to do before he steps through.

The hall is dark and cold. He listens for the sounds of movement but finds none. Arthur knocks the snow from his boots before ascending the old wooden staircase. It doesn’t creak as he’d expect it to, like it used to. The boards must have recently been nailed down to prevent such noise.

A single door stands at the top of the stairs and Arthur walks through it. There is resistance at first, which he eventually realizes is because the door is hidden behind a thick tapestry. He finds himself in the familiar hallway that hasn’t changed since his last visit. He doubts it has changed much in generations.

At first, he makes for your room until he remembers you’re not there. Why would you be? You’re the master of the house.

Up the main staircase, quiet as he can be, Arthur ascends to the top floor where the master’s suite is. Like the rest of the house, its dark say for the light on under the door. His heart is racing, has been since you hugged him and now it’s threatening to escape his chest. Anticipation and apprehension are fighting for dominance.

Arthur takes a moment, collects himself, then turns the handle. It is not locked.

This is a room he’s never been in before. He steps into an entrance chamber, draped in tapestries and fine art. The first thing he notices are the shoes you were wearing sitting by the door. Taking your lead, Arthur removes his wet boots. He leans his walking stick against the wall. His hat, gloves, and coat find purchase on the floor as he sheds his outer layer before making for the main bedchamber.

Your back is to him this time. Your bare back.

You’re standing in front of the fireplace, your hand resting on the mantle. All you are wearing are your trousers. Arthur studies you, allows himself to admire and appreciate the image before him. You’re no longer the young man he used to know so well. Then again, neither is he.

When he starts to walk toward you, you turn to look at him.

Your steps match his and the two of you meet in the middle of the room in a desperate kiss.

Your hands cradle his face, your mouth hungrily seeking his. And Arthur lets you, wants you to, can’t help but finally give in to what his body has been craving ever since you were caught that fateful day.

He wraps an arm around your waist and clutches you close. His hand comes up to lay over yours, making sure you don’t stop cradling his face because now that you’re touching him, he needs more.

Arthur’s legs hitting the bed takes him by surprise. He didn’t even feel you push him. Or did he pull you? It may have been a combination.

Your hands reach for his trousers.

He can’t help but moan, mouth still furiously attacking yours in a frenzy of teeth and tongues. His hands freely roam your back, marveling at the soft skin, wishing he hadn’t run away. How could he think he’d be able to live without you? Without the way your mouth nipped at his, or how your quick hands open his trousers with deft fingers.

You draw back, eyes hooded and pupils blown wide with desire. “Is this what you want, Arthur?” you ask in a low voice, your nose brushing his. “Once this happens, truly happens, you can’t take it back.”

“I don’t want to take it back.”

“Are you sure? There will be no hard feelings if you do.”

Arthur cups the back of your neck and tugs you down into a kiss. He wants this. He wants you. Has wanted you for as long as he can remember. There’s been a dark hole in his heart the last few years, ever since he pushed you away and he doesn’t want it anymore.

It’s your turn to moan, your turn to melt against him.

The solid weight of you is thrilling. Arthur can’t stop touching you, his hands exploring your chest while your mouths hungrily seek each other’s.

His trousers are open and now that you have his permission, you slip your hand into them, wrapping around his cock.

Arthur moans, a deep satisfied sound that resonates through his whole body. It’s been too long since you’ve touched him, far too long. His body comes alive, back arching in an attempt to bring himself as close to you as possible. Your free hand tugs down the collar of his shirt, exposing his smooth pale neck to your eager lips.

How can this be wrong? How can the world tell him that your love isn’t real? It’s real to him. You’re more real than anything Arthur has ever known. Your hand starts to pump his cock with sure strokes. You remember what he likes, remember how to squeeze and rub just the right way, the way that makes Arthur a trembling needy mess.

He's wearing far too many layers.

You must have the same thought because you yank his shirt free from his open trousers and slide your hands under the thick material. Arthur suddenly remembers the marks on his back a second too late. Your hand finds one and he yanks away with a hiss of pain.

Your eyes are wide. “Arthur,” you say in a low, careful voice. “What happened?”

The shame is back but for an entirely different reason. Carefully, Arthur pulls his shirt off, eyes trained on the ground and rimmed with unshed tears. He closes them when you gently turn him around.

He hears the sharp inhale when you lay your eyes on the cuts. The next thing he knows, he’s roughly turned back to face you. “Who did this to you?! Was it him? Was it Compeyson?”

Swallowing thickly, Arthur nods. You take his face in your hands, tilt it up so he’s looking at you. Arthur lays his hands around your wrists when he meets your eye.

“He will pay for this,” you say, your tone one he is unfamiliar with but sends a shudder down his spine. “He will never lay a hand on you again so long as I am still breathing. Did he hurt you elsewhere?”

Arthur shakes his head. “No, I swear it.”

“Does it hurt much?”

“I’m far too distracted to feel it at the moment.”

Bare chest to bare chest, Arthur pulls you into another kiss. Teeth nip at your bottom lip before his tongue fills your mouth. He sits on the bed, bringing you with him as he lays down. Your sheets are soft and cool to the touch, easing the aches of his sore back.

With a moan of pleasure, you return the kiss. Arthur takes your hand and slides it into his trousers. You start to stroke him again and heat starts to lick through his belly, hotter than the best drink money can buy. The constriction of his trousers makes it difficult for you to stroke him properly. He hastily shoves them down his hips, freeing himself in the process.

Your lips leave his as you make a trail down his chest. You mark red spots upon pale skin as you do, claiming Arthur as yours. Because he is yours. He’s always been yours. He may have denied it but he’s never forgotten it.

You place an open-mouthed kiss on Arthur’s hip bone. With both hands, you peel the trousers off, sliding into the floor as you do.

“Now, what was that you said about being on my knees for another man?” you tease.

Arthur pushes himself onto his elbows, a stray curl falling into his eyes. He’s too focused on you to notice. “I don’t remember,” he says with a small grin. “It was a long time ago. I must have forgotten.”

“Allow me to refresh your memory.”

You drag your tongue along his weeping length and Arthur’s eyes flutter, threatening to close. He forces them open, forces him to watch you take his swollen tip between your lips. The sudden wet heat is overwhelming and Arthur’s head falls back with a moan.

You’ve always had a wicked tongue. When you were lads, your sharp words and quick wit constantly caused trouble. It wasn’t until you both were older that Arthur fully appreciated it.

Now he appreciates it more than ever.

Falling onto his back, Arthur’s eyes flutter closed and he surrenders to the sensation. Feeling your mouth slide down his cock, deliberately slow, his breathing speeds up. By the time you have all of him, he’s audibly panting. You draw back, almost letting him fall completely out of your mouth before taking him again.

You repeat the motion, one hand holding him at the base. Working him in and out of your mouth, you start a steady rhythm, your hand soon following the same path. Arthur is beside himself, gasping and squirming in the bed, unable to do anything but lay there and feel. When he dares to look down at you, that unbelievable heat courses through his veins at the visual of your lips stretched wide around his length.

It's too good. It’s too much. It’s been far too long and Arthur is not going to last. Already he senses the overstimulation, feels how his hips are trying to meet your mouth, but are unable with you pinning him in place.

He says your name, whispers it before reaching down to grip your head.

To his dismay and relief, you stop, letting him slide out completely before dropping harsh kisses to his thighs.

You smirk up at him. “I’ve forgotten how beautiful you look like this.”

Arthur’s forehead is dotted with sweat already and he needs to run his hand through his hair to push the curls away. “Come here,” he pants, forcing himself to sit up.

You stand, your hands busying with the strings holding your trousers closed. Arthur reaches out and makes quick work of them, desperate to see you. To feel you. His mouth waters and when your trousers fall to pool around your ankles, Arthur immediately slides your cock between his lips.

“Fucking hell,” you swear, digging your fingers into his curly locks. “Always so…ambitious.”

Arthur’s eyes flutter closed as he bobs his head up and down, taking more and more of you each time he does. He’s out of practice, sloppy in his over-eagerness yet determined to make it as good for you as it was for him.

You’re hard against his tongue. He can feel the way you twitch, taste the beads of precum before they slide down his throat. He’s a man on a mission, a man possessed by lust. And by you.

Lord help him, he wants to be possessed by you.

When he draws back, he lets you slip out of his mouth, his chin pressed into your stomach as he looks up at you.

Your thumb traces his full bottom lip and he sucks it for a moment before saying in a breathless voice, “Take me.”

With a guttural moan, you bend down to kiss him, sharing his taste while he shares yours. Both of you move at the same time. Arthur crawls backward up the bed while you step out of your trousers and join him, laying your body over his.

He can feel your cock along his. And then you shift, and you’re ever so slightly grinding against his arse and he doesn’t know how he’s going to be able to handle more. If he even can handle more.

For everything that’s been familiar, this would be new. You two never got this far before. Though judging by the way you move, how you reach for your nightstand to withdraw a small bottle, Arthur suspects it may not be as new for you as it is for him.

There’s a moment, a twinge of jealousy he cannot contain. He pushes it away. Won’t let it mar this perfect moment. After all, he was the one to walk away. He cannot fault you for finding comfort in someone else.

When you draw back, your eyes are shining with love, and Arthur can’t help but smile, his hand stroking your cheek.

One more kiss is placed on Arthur’s lips before you sit back on your heels. “Spread your legs, love,” you tell him, your voice rough with desire.

Arthur does it instantly, letting you see all of him. You groan, eyes taking him in before meeting his.

“Do you trust me?”

“With my life. And my heart.”

The bottle is opened and you pour some of the contents into your hand before placing the glass vial back on the nightstand. Arthur finds his mouth occupied once more with yours as you kiss him. He feels your hand slip between his legs and a warm, wet substance is gently rubbed across his tight pucker.

Arthur freezes for a moment, but your kisses relax him. You make slow, gentle circles with the tip of your finger, spreading the lubricant before pressing ever so slightly against the tight ring of muscle. Arthur’s breathing hitches at the first bit of resistance. However, when he calms again, your finger presses harder until it begins to slide in.

After that, Arthur is unable to stay still. His mouth attacks yours, desire building as you carefully work him loose, first with one finger. His hips move on their own, rising and falling, trying to assist you while also seeking relief. Another finger is added once Arthur is positively grinding against your hand. It’s not enough. He can’t stand to wait any longer.

Drawing back from the kiss he looks up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes. “I need more.”

“I’m working on it. So bloody impatient.”

Arthur kisses you harshly, his teeth briefly tugging on your bottom lip when he pulls away. “Now!”

“Fucking hell I missed you.”

You sit back once more to grab the bottle. Arthur takes it from you, pouring the substance into his hand this time before working it up and down your cock. Your hardness is exhilarating. Just the thought that you’ll be inside him soon is enough to make his own cock weep again.

You grab Arthur’s legs and when he sits back, you push them up against his chest, hands gliding down his thighs. Arthur watches you line yourself up, the head of your cock glistening in the firelight.

Then, you carefully press into him.

Arthur doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until you stroke his hair back from his face. “Just relax, love. Breathe and relax “

Following your instructions, Arthur lets out a shaky breath which turns into a moan as he feels you slide deeper into his body. He has to open his eyes, has to watch your face come closer as you push yourself into his ready and willing body.

He feels the brush of rough hair against his arse and with a loud gasp he realizes you’re now inside him. He’s full of you, finally yours after all these years. What a waste. He could have had you ages ago. Your jaw is clenched and he realizes how much restraint it must be taking for you not to move, to wait until he's accustomed to you.

Arthur is done waiting.

Wrapping his legs around you, he grabs your face and yanks you into a kiss. Your hips draw back slowly before thrusting into his heat and Arthur sees stars.

You take him, first with gentle thrusts but quickly turning into something else. Something more carnal and urgent. He knows you, knows you have fantasied about this as much as he has. Did you think of him? When you were with another or alone with your own hand, was Arthur’s face the one you pictured?

He doesn’t have to ask to know the answer.

Arthur relishes the fullness, groans and calls out your name, forgetting and not caring who may hear. Because there’s no one around to hear. No one to catch you or interrupt. The servants are floors away, blissfully unaware that their master is buggering Arthur Havisham into his mattress.

The secret, forbidden nature of your coupling makes Arthur’s heart race even more. How can love be forbidden? If there is a God, why would He put you in Arthur’s life if the two of you were meant to be apart?

Something inside Arthur snaps and he knows he will never be able to bury these feelings again. He does not want to. He is going to do everything he can to be the man you deserve, the man you know he can be. And at night, when the two of you are alone and away from prying eyes, he’ll have you and you’ll have him.

The thought of it turns him on, makes him want you to take him as hard as you can, make him see stars for hours.

Though, he doesn’t think either of you will last that long.

He can tell when you’re close, remembers the signs well enough though he’s never experienced them from this angle before.

“Arthur,” you pant against his lips. “Arthur, love, I cannot hold back much longer.”

“Come for me,” he begs, blunt nails digging into your sweaty shoulder blades. “I need to feel it this time.”

A moment later, you do. You come inside him, your hand slipping between your bodies to wrap around his hot length. It only takes a jerk or two for Arthur to come as well, coating both your torsos in pearly strips of white. He keeps coming, more than he’s ever had before, vaguely aware it’s been a long time. Longer than he cares to admit.

Your thrusts become sloppy and then slow until you eventually stop.

Arthur’s body is humming and he can’t help the noise of disappointment when you slip out of him and collapse onto your back by his side.

Trying to catch your breath, you lay next to each other, chests heaving. Arthur feels wonderful and uncomfortable at the same time. His wounds are starting to ache and his cooling release is becoming sticky.

You give him a quick kiss. “Wait here, love.”

Arthur smiles at the term of endearment, liking it more and more each time you say it. He watches you cross the room naked to a basin in the corner, where you dip a cloth in water. You bring it back to bed and gently clean him off, first his stomach then between his legs, placing feather-light kisses wherever you can.

Arthur chuckles as you do. “That tickles.”

“Stop being so tasty then.”

You draw back and clean yourself, before tossing the rag aside and climbing back into bed.

Arthur turns to his side so you’re facing each other, his legs twining with yours. He’s more comfortable than he’s ever been in his life. Though sleep threatens to take him, he fights it, wanting to remain awake in your embrace for as long as possible.

“You’ll stay here tonight,” you say, stroking his cheek. “Right here with me. In the morning I’ll mess up the guest room bed and tell the maids you came back when the storm was too dangerous.”

“Thank you.”

“Think nothing of it.” You kiss him tenderly and he smiles, kissing you back. “As for this Mr. Compeyson, don’t you worry about him.”

“Why? What are you going to do?”

“I’m not going to do anything. See, unlike him, I don’t have to resort to violence to get what I want, not that I would not love beating the man within an inch of his life. When you’re rich, you can pay people to do that for you. I daresay, if he’s not careful, he may find himself the victim of an unfortunate accident. This city is a dangerous place after all.”

Arthur feels relief. Still smiling, he runs his fingers up and down your arm that’s draped over his waist. “Would be a shame if he met a most unfortunate end.”

“Tragic. Absolutely tragic. There’s only one thing you need to do for me.”

“Name it.”

“Make amends with your sister.” As he narrows his eyes you place a finger on his lips. “Hush, don’t say anything, just listen. First off, this isn’t her fault. Second, patience is a virtue, Mr. Havisham. The best way to get what you want isn’t to stomp and yell. It’s to play along, bide your time.”

Arthur raises his eyebrow, kissing your finger before kissing your palm and then your wrist. “I know that tone,” he says, dark eyes flickering up to meet yours. “You have an idea.”

“To join our family fortunes and became the most powerful families in London? To plot and scheme for a way to keep you by my side for the rest of our lives? How positively absurd.”

Grinning now, Arthur pushes you onto your back, draping his body over yours. “I think we can come to some sort of arrangement.”

“I believe we already have, my love.”

#arthur havisham #arthur havisham x male reader #arthur havisham x reader #arthur havisham x you #dickensian #joseph quinn

[brujahinaskirt]

god. i don't discuss this much or ever, really, but i truly do believe that penelope and beau were the family arthur needed.

[inane rambling under the cut, spoilers for Chapter 3]

They represented a green but fierce and strong-backed love between two young people he could protect and nurture. On one hand: A gentle, soft, artistic young romantic, the kind of man and lover Arthur never had a chance in hell of being (but might have been in some other dream of life) in the throes of a pure and openhearted love (a completely consuming and unguarded love Young Arthur was far too afraid and wounded to embrace for himself even given how young he was when he met Mary). On the other hand, a bravehearted, future-minded firecracker suffragist who did what the more traditionalist Mary was never truly going to be able to do (abandoning her awful family to run away and risk her life starting anew).

It's all very perfect and fitting and of course in canon he immediately projects on them and likes them both immensely, pathetically halfhearted protests aside. (Beau being the exact type of soft-but-sassy, extremely genuine/passionate man that Arthur enjoys; Penelope being the exact type of driven, society-defying, deviant intellectual person he most admires.) Lots of nice useful parallels of the past and "take a chance that love exists" fulfillment, etc etc. Literary themes. I like all of that stuff.

But honestly at a more home-and-hearth level, this is the exact type of denouement I want for Arthur. Perhaps he won't get his Settled and Domestic existence on a Hard Work Ranch of his own. Perhaps he won't get married and quit running and make one final forever place to stop and live and rest in. But perhaps, though that is the happy future he imagines for himself, that idea of settled down is not really what Arthur needs from it. Maybe he just needs a different sort of cobbled-together, undomesticated family to run with. One that welcomes and deeply appreciates his help... but one that doesn't so heavily rely on him to be workhorse. One that has a future completely independent of Arthur's past. One that mostly just decides, sincerely but with the ferocity of loyalty and affection with which Penny and Beau seem to do everything, that they want him around.

A part of me knows this is an outlandish, ridiculous what-if and I don't actually wish the story ended this way, of course. But another part of me wants to see what might have happened if he had hopped on that stagecoach with them to help them get a little farther. To watch days become weeks become months as Penelope and Beau get off to a rocky start as they fumble through their new life on the lam, but are too happy with each other and the youngness of their dreams to care. To watch arthur teach Penny how to use that revolver and Beau, well, he can sit and look pretty and write poems... and indeed, even in canon there's nothing wrong with that idea to Arthur, as long as the "soft" man in question lives to make his woman happy (something Arthur badly wanted with Mary, a life to live just for her, but didn't have a real shot in hell at living).

I want to watch Penelope drag Arthur around TERRIBLE OHIO by the arm to look at kittens in pet store windows and drink fancy coffee and maybe buy some new shirts (and if they don't have money for both of them, they can steal one and buy the other). Then they can go pick Beau up from busking or skipping stones on the lake or drawing Penelope's most-beautiful face from memory or whatever the hell he does with his time, and all three of them get cheap dinner and eat it outside. She introduces him to all the OHIOANS as her AWFUL UNCLE (wonderful man) and they include him in everything and make him their new family, their father figure of choice (big brother figure? uncle figure? none of and yet all of the above?). And if they do have children, Arthur gets to help make sure those children grow up surrounded by so much love and safety and happy ignorance, the begat-by-healthy-love childhood Arthur and no one else around him ever seemed to have. And Penelope and Beau have finally made a family of their own to truly belong to, and Arthur gets to become more of the man he has always truly been inside, and none of them ever feel unwanted or out of place in their own home ever again. THE END. god.

#rdr2 #arthur morgan #penelope braithwaite #beau gray #my own silliest and most indulgent AU i'll never write #redmeta #is this even meta or is it just the pus dripping off the quadrant of my brain rotted by cowboy disease

[earlgreyinpajamas]

Kinktober favs for either merthur or 00q? :)

merthur

Special by SauraUnderscore

Merlin has long since stopped praying to be rescued. Alphas only came here for one thing: to be sucked through the glory-hole and cum with the smell of his artificially prolonged heat. Detective Arthur Pendragon is about to desmantelate the criminal organisation that has him enslaved.

~~~

for the abo lovers, this is probably a staple author

2. The Penalty for Sorcery is Hate by SauraUnderscore

Arthur thought he knew Merlin inside out. But after Merlin saves them all from an ambush, Arthur realises the unconscious, exhausted man, now tied to the tree, has apparently been hiding his magic from Arthur for the three years they have known each other. And the love Arthur had been feeling for Merlin has transformed into hate so suddenly, he doesn’t know what to do with those feelings, or with the sorcerer, anymore.

~~~

and there's some plot too!!

3. getting hot (doing something unholy) by princessoftheworlds (@princess-of-the-worlds)

While working his regular shift at the university library, Merlin takes the advantage to ruin his nemesis (and rich asshole) Arthur, who just happens to be wearing lace.

~~~

ngl i lowkey wanted to punch arthur at the start, but i think merlin's got it covered

00q

bloody mary by Path_Finder

James held up a hand. “Are you turned on by this?”

Q stammered for a moment.

His eyes caught on the blood that had stopped falling from James's nose but which still coated his face. The shreds missing from his shirt and the holster that sat, empty, with the gun abandoned a few meters away on the ground. His shirt sleeves were stained to hell and back. He was panting, chest heaving from the exertion he’d just put himself through. His fingers were caked with brown and dark red, an unholy mixture of dirt and blood coming together to cover his calloused skin.

Q swallowed. “You know, I think I might be.”

-/-

Q discovers a new kink. James is happy to indulge.

~~~

this series slaps!!!

2. Firsts Things First by RisingQueen2 (FallenQueen2) (@risingqueen2)

Q loves when James returns to him after a mission, but he draws the line at his lover being drenched with London rain.

Kinktober 2020 Day 15 - Shower Sex

~~~

d-domestic spies,,,

3. One at a Time by TheMadKatter13 (@themadkatter13)

Q gets a first-hand look at Bond's field tactics.

~~~

wonder what those are

#merlin x arthur #merlin fic #bbc merlin #merlin #merthur #merthur fanfiction #sailor mercury #00q #00q fanfiction #00q fic rec #00q fic recs #00q fic #merthur fic rec #merthur fic recs #merthur fanfic

[milo-the-professional-yapper]

Hello! about your malevolent ask

[long ass answer- many apologies]

its a slightly goofy, sort of horror soap opera, in the vein of call of cthulu/tma. I dont find it Super Scary, but idk what your milage for horror is.

The overarching plot is drivin by the patrions (sp sorry), in the style of a choose your own adventure novel- you can usually tell where the choices are; it'll be something like 'omg arthur, we're at a crossroads- do we go left, to the evil cavern (where the horrors live) or right, to the evil woods (more horrors).' You can also hear more overt RPG stylings in the beginning- dice roll sounds for perception checks, etc. These do fade out after the first season.

Rough outline (some spoilers): John (a spirit/demon type guy) possesses Arthur (a detective from Arkham MA) and, in doing so, takes over his eyes. Now Arthur must navigate the world with only the guidance of the voice in his head. Horrors unfold, walls are walked into the boys are in their get-along consciousness. Think venom, if both of them were way bitchier and prone to swearing. and also eddy was blind.

IS IT GAY: Yes and no. If its a friendship, its really intense- but cannonicaly it has been very firmly stated that they are just friends. However, the relationship is intertwined and deep enough that many people consider it to be queerplatonic- Arthur being aromantic is a very popular interpretation, if that sweetens the pot for you (idk how loosely you're using gay here). Glib answer: its pretty queer, but no kissing.

COOL STUFF:

-A dramatic, intense relationship between a guy and the dude who lives in his head. They argue ( my god how they argue) they make up, they argue again.

-The saddest little english man (arthur) gets chucked off cliffs multiple times. Do you like men whimpering? This is the podcast for you!

-Very impressive voice acting: the writer voices absolutely everyone in the podcast (yes. everyone) and its genuinely almost unnoticeable. You really do have to have it pointed out to you.

-Fun, slightly campy (in the way of an rpg campaign) Lovecraft style horror

-Lovely piano soundtrack

-A gentleman called the butcher shows up in- what season 3? maybe?- and I adore him. Go singing irishman go. You get that violent homoeroticism.

Drawbacks:

Again, I don't really know your taste, but these are some of the things that might turn someone off from listening. YMMV etc.

-LOUD. If you dont like gentlemen yelling DIRECTLY AND ANGRILY INTO THE MIC then this is not for you. If you do like that, then you are about the have the time of your life. There is also just. An incredible amount of panting/heavy breathing. Also directly into the mic, and at length. Like, an 'i am secretly watching gay pornography' amount. I had it going on a speaker once and my roommate had questions, kind of amount

-Almost no women characters: understandable, since a dude is voicing Literally Everyone- but it is something of a sausage fest. Women exist in universe, they just tend to move in the backround/be unvoiced. Lots of 'oh heres whats happened to her' sort of describing around the 'I can't voice a woman' issue. One old lady has a few voice lines and thats it.

-Kind of a soap: This is a draw for me ngl, but if you are looking for TMA 2: the magnusing- she isn't it. Its a LOT lighter than tma, writing wise, and isnt exactly hitting any crazy new twists in its plot (if you've read Any lovecraftian stuff you probably wont be super surprised by anything)BUT. Its still very fun. Two dudes sharing a body, detective roadship shenanigans. They might kiss! Might see some skinned bodies or something.

The dynamics can be a lil repetative (wake up break up back together) and the plot can be a little- ehhhh. due to it being yk, patrion controlled- but that can be fun- it's pretty heavily a choose your own adventure story at heart, so if your down with that (and the sillyness that comes with it) then you'll like it.

-Gore: pretty gory. I enjoy that sort of thing/ am not really effected by it BUT if that not your cup of tea, then you might wanna skedaddle.

🤠 thats all. Again, apologies for the very long answer.

First off- don’t apologize! This gave me everything I needed- thank you for the detailed answer to my question! Looks like I’m giving this podcast a listen- everyone wish me luck 😭

#malevolent #malevolent podcast #you said qpr and I was all in #I’m aroace so I’d love to see better rep of that kind of thing #even if it’s not explicitly stated that it’s a canon qpr

[eren-the-eldritch]

I have compiled a list of Arthur’s scar leaving injuries so people(me) don’t forget(still me) to draw them (i’ll update this when new significant injuries happen and at the end of this i’ll do a tl;dr of what Arthur’s current state might look like now, leaving out uncertainties and including things like starvation and shaving.

Part 1 “The Dark World”

There were no blood mentions regarding Parker’s body and I’m taking a shot in the dark and saying the method was strangulation (unless John just used some weird magic and not Arth’s body). When being strangled, most will panic and claw at the aggressors wrists- But then wouldn’t there be blood? Maybe enough time passed for it to dry and remain hidden under Arthur’s sleeves. I dunno I just like the idea of that moment leaving scars.

Part 3 “The Mansion”

There was a car crash (surprising it only happened on the duo’s 2nd drive..). Arth literally had to climb through a seat to get to the baby in the back however the baby remained unharmed so maybe he could’ve been unharmed as well? Buutttt he did black out for a split second and said he couldn’t think straight. I believe a small superficial head scar to be possible along with some tiny other facial scaring all, caused by the glass windshield shattering a bit due to the crash. After all, there was sound of stepping over glass when he walked away from the wreck..

Arth also fell through a wooden stairway but no attention was drawn to any possible injury on his body and I realllyy doubt that he wasn’t harmed in some way.. maybe thin scars were created by the wood scratching thin areas like the hands and ankles or areas that scar easily but you just happen to be able to ignore it in the moment, y’know?

Part 4 “The Voices”

Near the end of this episode, Arthur gets huge damage to the stomach causing it to bleed. Pretty sure it was inflicted by a kitchen knife or something larger. Art said something along the lines of his entire waistline feeling wet with blood and it was enough damage for John to say the words “if this is the end…” and some sappy shit. Definitely a deep cut.

(Wow… dying from a botched c-section… not unbelievable but very uncommon for a man who, unless I skipped an episode, was not pregnant…)

Part 9 “The Boat”

Everyyyyone knows about the 3 shots Arthur took to the chest but i’ll mark it anyway. The first two shots seemed to only be like “OW” but he could probably keep going. By that excellent deduction I conclude they didn’t hit the heart. The third one probably did tho, sounded like he was seeing the light- or well, the dark at that point.

Part 12 “The End”

These little tadpole guy things tries to slither into arthur’s arm, arthur has to press lighter against skin to stop the thing from getting further in, bleeding a bit, possible scar + burn scar.

Part 13 “The Dreamlands”

Now it’s time to bring up the wooden pinkie. The duo bit it off to give the trees a friend, cauterized the wound, and a wooden pinkie grew out. There could be burn scarring where the wooden replacement pinkies grew out.

Part 15 “The Storm”

The injury caused here is kinda the entire reason I decided to go back through all the episodes and check because I forgot about this one entirely. Here the duo just barely escape a dark storm by hiding behind a large boat bitten by rust. The wind tore off some skin on the right side of Arthy’s face and it was apparently difficult to see out of their right eye until they cleaned it.

Part 17 “The Fall”

The monster thing threw a rock at Art from ceiling which resulted in a deep cut in his bicep. His shoulder dislocated on the same arm and from the fact that Arthur (who only has control of the right hand) had to set it back I think the damage was on the left arm.

Part 20 “The King” + “Coda”

Arthur got cut by one of the King’s dancer’s cut Arthur although it isn’t clear where it sounded like it drew blood (aka it scarred). Arthur also stabbed himself in the throat, just missing his jugular. That definitely left a kayne-knife-shaped scar.

Part 23 “The Past”

A piece of Arthur’s right ear was torn off, ouch.

(gonna include this here because I don’t want to go back and check which episode this happened in but Arthur did shave at like the beginning of the season after he got to the weird bar. I remember because he kept going on about deserving a wash and a shave and yellow was so pissy about it)

Part 27 “The Roots”

And now everyone’s favorite episode! We know Arth isn’t gonna die so i’m considering what the marks left by this near death experience may be. Arthur gets pierced by some tendril thing through the stomach so depending on what means through which it heals, there’s gonna be a huge scar there (i can’t imagine it just stays an open hole.. or it could, who knows!) Also, based on how the creature thing cut it out, there should be a gash in Arth’s head from where john cut the monster thingy’s tendril out.

tl;dr

Arthur is (circa part 26 not 27) a very thin, clean-shaven man showing signs of starvation covered in scars with the most significant being the superficial scarring on the right side of his face, a deep scar across his stomach covering the entirety of his waistline, 3 small wounds to the chest caused by bullets, a wooden pinkie on his left hand, a deep scar over his throat, a deep cut in his left bicep, a piece of his right ear bitten off, a burn scar on his arm where he had to burn a tadpole out of it.

#this is probably useless but i literally needed this list at some point but I couldn’t find one anywhere so I had to make it myself >:( #malevolent podcast #arthur lester #if i missed anything lmk #malevolent podcast spoilers

[helianskies]

Types ok Kissies! EngPort, 7 or 11 :3

i had to seriously restrain myself with this one. we've gone for prompt 7 since 11 had already been requested here, but... man, these two make me feel things... fair warning: things do get a bit warm in this one! ;)

prompt: french kisses where they trace every tooth with their tongues as though trying to memorise them.

Devour

They had gotten married on a whim.

Arthur had said to him one day, “We should do it. Just to say we have, and so that everyone knows that you are mine, and I am yours.”

João had thought it somewhat romantic, if not questionable, at the time. They had been drinking, after all, and Arthur has always had a knack for coming up with some wild ideas whilst under the influence of alcohol.

Yet, he ended up agreeing. 

They had found themselves a quiet church and Arthur had had their witness—a man who sailed under him—hold the priest at gunpoint while carrying out the very simple and private (and secret) ceremony. 

Two men getting married in a church on an island… It really was quite the thrill…

…and a thrill yet to wear off, as, now safely back on Arthur's docked ship not an hour afterwards, the next stage of their union starts to blossom in the candlelight.

Arthur sets João down onto the bed, supported by plentiful pillows while they begin to explore each other in the privacy of Arthur’s quarters. For a moment, he seeks a chance to catch his breath, maybe help them get a bit more… comfortable (clothes are awfully constricting) but as he tries to break away, he is pulled back in only closer. 

He did not realise, until now, just how big an appetite João has.

One hand holds Arthur’s face close, while the other wriggles underneath clinging fabric and his mouth—usually patient, witty, humourous—works hard to keep the Englishman fully occupied. Arthur does not fight it. This man is, after all, his new life partner, and it is his solemn duty to tend to his every need. If that need, as it currently seems to be, is to devour Arthur whole, then Arthur will be a more than willing victim.

And so, he is.

As both the kissing and the illusion of Heaven deepen, and deepen, and deepen further, the tactics change. Arthur does his best to prop himself up, to keep up with João’s ravenous pace, and to not succumb too easily when the other’s venturing hand wanders to areas saved only for him. It is intoxicating—more potent than any liquor he has known. And all the while, João only seems to draw him in closer, insatiable.

A tongue appears. It teases lips before teeth come along and tug and graze. Then it returns and finds deep within Arthur’s teeth, probing, tracing, committing each piece of him to memory. It steals away his breath. It makes him hungry himself—hungry enough to finally seize that break so he can consume the air he needs, before daring to take a dive.

“You’re dangerous,” he warns João, a smile breaking onto his face as he is awarded that time. He brushes aside the other’s delicate locks to get a good look at him (he’ll be the end of me) and relishes in how well-travelled fingers come down from his cheek to tickle under his chin.

“You have always had a thing for danger,” João reminds him. “Like a fish to a hook.”

Arthur hums. “Does that make you the deadly fisherman?”

“I suppose so,” comes the nonchalant response. 

And then, João sits up some more, leaning closer towards Arthur. His hand holds his face, and his smile turns coy. Something about it makes the Englishman’s heartbeat ripple—the tug of a line, the breaking of the water’s surface.

“You had better hurry up and bite, in that case,” he says, “before I have to throw you back to the sea.”

It is a sudden and harsh reminder that Arthur had not wanted, but one that, he supposes, would have come eventually. Such is the life of men of the sea—never still, never resting. Arthur is due to leave port tomorrow—the reason for the sudden decision to hold a priest hostage and exchange stolen rings—and perhaps that is the true source of João’s hunger.

Time is precious, now, so Arthur endeavours to not waste it, nor to deny João what it is he wants.They resume. The only difference this time is that Arthur makes the move, does the holding, and gets adventurous with not only hands but tongue.

He hopes it will bring the other the reassurance that he is a fish on a hook who does not want to be tossed back into the water—that he is a fish ready to bite, and a husband ready to love.

[ wordcount, 744 words; kiss prompts here! ]

#helia writes #hetalia #hws portugal #hws england #engport #thanks for you ask rosa! i hope it lives up to expectations <3 #just really love the idea of them getting hitched even if they can't be together all the time #accidentally crossing paths six months later and waving at each other whilst trying to dock all 'HI HONEYYY!!!' #i just. askfeahtjetja #also happy arthur day :) #he gets a pretty sailor hubby :)