Tumgik
#bond swindle
if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
“Two Face Charges Under Securities Act,” Toronto Globe. March 25, 1933. Page 12. ---- (Special Despatch to The Globe.) Peterboro', March 24.-Two members of the Nu-Manna Mining and Production Syndicate, Arthur T. Stone, aged 59, of Madoc, and Arthur E. Fisher, 48, of Toronto, appeared before Police Magistrate Langley today on charges under the Ontario Securities Act of 1930. The charges against the two read: "Unlawfully did trade in a security, to wit, units of NuManna Mining and Production Syndicate, at a time when he was not registered as a broker, as a salesman of a registered brokerage, contrary to the provisions of the Securities Act of 1930." With the evidence for the prosecution completed in the case against Stone, the trial was adjourned until Tuesday because Crown Attorney V. G. McElderry, K.C., desired time to obtain further evidence.
0 notes
lancelotslair · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
YEOWCH! Scheme failed, off Starscream goes to lick his wounds with his pet used car salesmen (who has first aid training)
103 notes · View notes
zappedbyzabka · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Beauty
13 notes · View notes
the-woild-is-y-erster · 8 months
Text
i have sm brainrot rn
so @newsiesfixation made a newsie oc a while back named dimes and i just
Tumblr media
xe drew dimes with eel once and ive been having brainrot all day so i finally had to put it on paper
the adopted brothers no one needed but me<3
10 notes · View notes
fangswbenefits · 4 months
Text
The Arrangement (9) - The Arrangement
Tumblr media
Chapter summary: Ava proposes an arrangement, and things get out of control with Astarion... once again.
Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav
Warnings: 18+. Alcohol. Innuendo. Body worship. (almost) Fingering. Sexual tension.
Word count: 6k
Series masterlist . Ao3
Ava extended the palm of her hand across the table, expecting you to comply with her silent request.
But you weren’t so easily swindled, especially when too much of her story was beginning to rub you the wrong way.
As such, you feigned complying by placing your hand atop hers, whilst your other carefully unsheathed the dagger at your hip.
Her face held a honeyed smile that you didn’t return, and your watchful eyes followed her every move, 
But before her knife could come close to your skin, you got on your feet, sending the chair sliding across the floor before you made a lunge for her, plucking her from her seat with one hand and pressing her back against the cabinet behind, your dagger firmly held against the side of her neck.
She did try to swing the knife in her hand, but you immediately caught hold of her wrist and squeezed tight until she dropped it on the floor.
“Sharp reflexes,” she noted with a curt smile.
You held her in place with the weight of your body, the sharp edge of your blade ready to slice through her skin.
“You sound surprised.”
She smiled again. “It is uncommon for sorcerers to be so skillful with anything but a staff and fancy hand flourishes.”
“Not many have the opportunity to learn from a seasoned rogue.”
Astarion had taken a liking to honing your dexterity, even when constantly remarking you’d never rival his.
However, in this particular moment, it did come in handy and his teachings had paid off.
“Unfortunately for you,” Ava said, her smile dropping slightly. “You are not the only one with tricks up their sleeve.”
And before you could question her remark, you felt the cool sting of metal tapping against your neck, just above the faint bite marks from the night before.
For a moment, the grip on your dagger faltered, but you quickly regained composure, not easing the blade pressed against her skin.
“This is coated in a most agonising poison.”
You offered a devious smile. “What a coincidence – so is mine.”
“Astarion’s?”
“Touché.” 
A homebrew recipe that he had once shared with you.
Travelling together with Astarion had given you the opportunity to broaden your skill set and that covered knowing how to brew most basic poisons.
She did look far too amused for someone who you could easily incapacitate should she stray but a little.
“And here I thought we had made some progress.”
Her taunt made you snap at once. “How much of an idiot do you take me for?”
She arched an eyebrow. “Idiot?”
You pushed harder into her, causing the glass jars inside the cabinet to rattle. “Your story sounds a little too convenient. You were a monster hunter for decades, then had a sudden change of heart, and tracked down Astarion to aid him,” your words were venomous enough to match the poison coating your blade. “I’m sorry if I have a hard time believing someone could just abandon their principles all at once and even go as far as to kill their own kin.”
Her arm was gripping yours, but you didn’t flinch, your eyes boring into hers. “You don’t have to believe me. I wouldn’t either, to be frank. However, you shouldn't be passing judgement when it comes to others having changes of heart.”
You remained silent.
“You took a leap of faith with Astarion, did you not? You trusted him even after learning he could easily turn on you,” she went on, her voice now firm and low. “But he didn’t. He proved he could change, even when it goes against his very nature as a vampire spawn.”
Another wave of anger flared inside you.
How could she even compare this situation to that of Astarion’s? She was nothing like him. She didn’t know the first thing about the two of you. 
“You utter sweetened words and use my bond with him to make me sway,” you said in a low warning tone. “But I simply don’t like you. It’s not even about you wanting my blood – it’s how you so easily take and take from him and expect me to compactuate with it.”
Ava scoffed, trying to push you off of her but to no avail. “So is that why you’re here? To stake your claim?”
" Claim? Astarion is his own person.”
She chuckled darkly. “Yet here you are, speaking on his behalf. Enlighten me on how that works.”
Her words tore through your flesh more effectively than the knife she held to your neck ever could.
You immediately let go of her as if suddenly burned by her touch and took a few steps back, falling silent.
Was that the impression you gave her? That you were taking away his free will on this matter? Would he think the same if he knew how close you had been to sinking your dagger into her?
Shame.
Guilt.
Your chest felt impossibly heavy from the weight of your doubts, and you dropped your arm at your side at once.
Ava adjusted her dress as she straightened up, but there was no triumphant smile on her face. “I am not the enemy. You don’t have to trust me – Hells, you don’t have to like me – but he does to an extent, and I already said that I do not take a single drop of his blood without his full consent, as I won’t take yours.”
It was starting to overwhelm you just how hard Ava was to decode. You wanted to trust her word and to believe that helping her with your own blood could be helpful to Astarion in the long run, especially if there were people out there who wanted to hurt both of you.
But you just couldn’t bring yourself to fully digest her reasoning without asking the proper questions and double checking.
You were once told: “Never swallow before chewing.”
“Why did you kill your group, then? Why not just leave?”
Ava’s pleasant features turned sour as she returned to her seat. “There are no fiercest shackles than those of the mind. I know it. Astarion knows it,” she said nonchalantly, placing her knife on the table. “Not that I expect you to resonate with this as I’m sure you’ve lived a sheltered life.”
You’re wrong…
On so many levels.
But you weren’t going to give her leverage on your past.
Not even Astarion was aware of the intricate details of your upbringing.
“Sorcerers are born with an innate talent for magic wielding,” she went on, her eyes fixed on you. “I wouldn’t be surprised if your family in Baldur’s Gate ranked up high with the rest of the nobles.”
You narrowed your eyes, lips still pressed shut.
It was unfair that she was drawing all these assumptions in regards to you when they couldn’t be further from the truth.
There had never been privilege. 
The magic coursing through your body was what made you nearly lose it all once…
But silence was your best weapon now.
“Not everyone has that privilege – I know I didn’t. I was forced to do the bidding of others, because that was all I knew growing up until Astarion’s case put things into perspective. Sure, I did expand my knowledge on Alchemy here and there, but I was never allowed to openly practice it,” there was a faint hint of sorrow in her voice that nearly made you feel sorry for her. Nearly. “So long as they lived, I would never be truly free as they would make sure I’d painfully regret leaving them. But I was done hunting those who could use a second chance, which was exactly what you offered Astarion.”
Her answer absolutely floored you. 
Your mind wanted her explanation to not make any sense.
You wanted a reason to hate her.
A reason to tear her bond with Astarion to smithereens.
Yet here she was, giving you seemingly truthful justifications to her deeds, which further troubled your heart and mind and completely defied your anger.
Eventually, you slid your dagger back in its holster with a long sigh. “Who’s after us?”
She crossed her legs. “I have my suspicions, but I need more time.
As much as you wanted to take her vague answer at face value, your common sense spoke louder this time.
“How can I be sure you’re not just feeding me some fable to cover up your own tracks?”
She chuckled almost in disbelief. “You truly are a tough one to crack, no doubt. I have a solid alibi, if that is what you’re requesting.”
“Go on.”
She paused briefly as if pondering her next words. “I was with a patriar.”
Hold on…
“Who?” you immediately shot back.
“Someone from the Parliament of Peers.”
Now, this piqued your interest. “ Who?”
“Rob Sorel.”
The wealthy baldurian merchant with an uncanny reputation for being ruthless when his interests were involved? The man whose wealth could easily overshadow that of a duke?
That seemed like a stretch.
A very unsettling stretch. 
You crossed your arms. “And what were you doing with such an influential patriar, especially so late at night?”
Ava gave you a long and hard look, lips tugged upwards, unveiling her amusement. 
Oh.
Oh.
“His influence reaches beyond Baldur’s Gate and I am able to gain exclusive access to wares that aid my research.”
You felt tempted to ask what the trade off was, but judging from the way her face twisted deviously, you could tell it probably revolved around carnal pleasure, which you refused to know the sordid details of.“Feel free to have Wyll cross-check this information as I’m sure Rob has mentioned my name.”
This nearly sent off alarm bells ringing in your head. “Wyll had never heard your name before I told him.”
She chuckled again, drumming her nails on the wooden surface of the table. “Oh, but he has . Ava is short for Avalar. I have had long dealings with Rob and he will uphold my alibi. Feel free to ask.”
Against your better judgement, you began to feel less… wary of her.
Not that you were able to fully let go of your gut feeling, but every answer was delivered with almost no hesitancy on her part and, truth be told, you would quickly be able to catch her if this involvement with a patriar was nothing but a desperate lie.
A sudden knock on the door made you jolt in place.
It was Wyll. “We ought to get going. Are you done?”
Your eyes remained fixed on her. “Yes. We're just going over some details.”
He didn't reply again and you saw Ava raise her eyebrows. “Details?”
You ignored her remark. “Will you try to track whoever is after us, then?”
“I will.”
You swallowed. “What's the price?”
She rose to her feet and took slow yet sure steps towards you until she was close enough for you to fully see the olive green colour of her eyes.
“Let's just say our interests are temporarily aligned.”
Bullshit.
“You wanted my blood.”
“I want your blood, yes. But I will settle with running a few more experiments after he's fed on you, if you accept this condition, that is.”
As far as you were concerned, you would rather she stopped meddling with anyone's blood, but Astarion seemed so confident in her promises…
Maybe there was a chance of success… maybe she could truly help with their hunger.
Maybe.
“Only after you tell Astarion about this discovery of yours in regards to his blood mixing with mine,” you said firmly. “Or I will.”
She nodded, offering a sweet smile.
“Don't think of this as payment, though. A mere transaction. An arrangement, if you will.”
You were starting to dread that term as of late. It was as if everything revolved around transactions and that it was the only way people knew how to properly function and establish relationships with others.
Slowly, you nodded and, for the second time that night, Ava extended her hand to you, only this time you took it in yours. 
A mysterious smile settled on her lips until you pulled her closer to you, lowering your voice, “I still don’t trust you.”
“I’d be disappointed if you did.”
You glared intensely into her eyes, hardening your face. “Any small step in the wrong direction, and you’ll hear from me.”
She nodded. “Deal.”
Then you gave her a firm shake before letting go and exiting her room without even looking back, as you were in dire need to distance yourself from the overwhelming events of tonight.
Wyll hurried to your side, glaring at you inquisitively. “So? What did you find out? Is she to be trusted?”
“Do you know a woman who goes by Avalar?”
He tapped his chin pensively for a moment. “Avalar? That name does sound familiar. Wait – she is Avalar? The merchant?”
You nodded as you made your way down the staircase, feeling the uncomfortable and draining presence of the mage slayer right behind you.
“She is connected to Rob Sorel, right?”
He hesitated at first, grabbing your arm and bringing you to an abrupt halt as you reached the bottom of the stairs.
“Lord Sorel isn’t one to trifle with idly. If she is indeed who she claims to be, then we must keep an eye on her.”
You felt a shiver run down your spine, already feeling that you might have given her the benefit of the doubt too quickly.
Wyll turned to one of the Fists by his side and gave him a silent command to which the man nodded and exited the tavern.
“She said she was with him on the night we were caught, and that Sorel will vouch for her.”
The commotion around the two of you from the rowdy and very much intoxicated crowd made it nearly impossible to hold a proper conversation.
“I will dig around,” he said with a raise of his voice, guiding you to the door.
But you yanked free from him, which earned a wary look from the other Fist.
“I need a drink. Please.”
The Fist spoke before he could, “My Lord, I don’t think we should linger any longer.”
You rolled your eyes and promptly made your way to the counter, squeezing past a few smelly individuals who grumbled in 
Bork appeared rather quickly in front of you, and you blinked twice.
“What can I get you, missy? ”
Wyll was by your side at lightning speed. “Are you sure you want to have a drink? Now?”
You never felt a particular interest in indulging in alcoholic beverages, but you craved it now more than ever.
“A pint, please.”
Bork’s lips parted into a devious smile and you tapped your fingers impatiently as he shifted to work on your request.
“You are not one to hold your liquor, if I remember correctly, my friend,” Wyll noted, already placing one gold piece on the counter. “Mayhap you ought to take a sip or two before we leave.”
He was absolutely correct, but you also needed a quick way to numb your restless mind. 
At worst you’d get a bit too intoxicated.
At best, you’d find a way to, hopefully, sleep through what was left of this night.
As Bork set the mug in front of you and eagerly collected his payment, you grabbed it with both hands and proceeded to down the sweet liquid.
In one go.
Wyll’s hand tried to ease your eagerness, but you slapped it away with a chuckle. 
“Why do I have the feeling I will have to carry you home after this?”
By the time you were through with the ale, you realised you had made a severe mistake.
If Wyll had not been there to steady your unbalanced feet, you would have certainly tripped on the nearby stool.
Fuck…
Tumblr media
By the time you made it back home, it was more than evident you should not have drunk all of it.
But it seemed that your brain was starting to morph a sense of guilt into finding anything within your grasp to be rather hilarious.
Even when you almost bumped into the mage slayer stationed outside your house.
You gave them a wide grin and a pat on the shoulder as if he couldn’t easily split you in half.
Wyll pushed the  door open and guided you inside with both hands gripping your shoulders for added support.
“Easy now. Mind the step.”
You completely disregarded his warning, which led to you almost losing balance if not for his strong arm that looped around yours, pulling you back.
You giggled.
He was truly a sweetheart.
Inside, you were met with the dim flickering of a few candles that provided enough brightness to spot the love of your life.
Wait.
Love of your life?
Scratch that. What a ridiculous overstatement. 
“What in the sweet Hells took you so long?” Astarion said with a scowl, rising from his chair and heading straight towards you like an arrow.
You giggled again, throwing your arms in the air. “You stayed up and waited for me!”
Astarion halted abruptly in front of you, hands on both hips. “I don’t sleep as I’m sure you’re aware. What is wrong with you?”
Wyll patted your back reassuringly. “She…drank a pint, and – well… this is the result.”
Suddenly, there were two Astarions standing next to each other and you yelped in shock, flinching back. 
“Why are there two of you?” you asked, pointing at them.
Both of them cocked an elegant eyebrow. “Two of what?”
Odd.
They moved and spoke in perfect unison. 
If one Astarion was already such a headache at times, you couldn’t even begin to fathom what two Astarions would be capable of. 
Driven by curiosity, you tried to reach out to one of them with your hand, but grasped nothing but air as your vision corrected itself and only one Astarion was left.
Really odd.
But entertaining.
He quickly gripped your gesticulating arm by the wrist. “Will you stop it? You’ll hurt yourself.”
The sudden proximity made your stomach turn dangerously, but you were far too amused to care. “ You’ll hurt yourself ,” you mimicked poorly, earning another scowl.
“I let you out of my sight for a few hours and this is the result,” he said with a sigh, then turning to Wyll. “Why would you let her drink a whole pint?”
Wyll rubbed the back of his neck. “She insisted, and I figured she could use the distraction.”
“What happened with Ava?” Astarion pressed.
Oh, Gods… not her again. “Will everyone please stop talking about her? Gods!”
He then pulled you closer to him, not letting go of your wrist, but easing his grip.
His beautiful eyes met yours and you felt yourself swoon, feeling the image of Ava dissipating into thin air.
Gods… he was the most beautiful man to ever grace this earth, no doubt.
Books should be written on his beauty and songs should be sung in his honour.
You felt yourself smile widely at him, feeling a rush of heat flood your face.
You’re so handsome…
His brows immediately furrowed.
Oh.
Shit.
You had said that aloud.
But you stood by it.
Astarion was so very handsome.
The only man who could make you yearn for him and have your heart and soul enamoured by all of him.
Then his face gradually softened. "Well, good thing there are no newshounds nearby. Can you imagine the headlines in tomorrow’s paper about the hero of Baldur’s Gate making a fool of themselves?”
You felt so giddy and drunk in his beauty that you just nodded at every word that spilled from those full lips that you wish you could just–
Whatever you say, handsome…
“Where’s Shadowheart?” you heard Wyll ask.
Astarion shrugged. “No one else is here, and it’s not as if I’m their mother.”
He was so snarky and it just made you almost melt under his touch.
“I can stay if need be.”
You rapidly turned to face Wyll, and immediately felt dizzy as Astarion steadied you. 
“Please stay! We can have a party!” you suggested with a dramatic pout.
Behind you, Astarion scoffed. “I’m quite sure dear Wyll is busy with his Duke duties, darling.”
Wyll chuckled. “I always make time for my friends.”
“Well, I can take it from here,” he retorted and you could spot a hint of disdain in his voice.
So attractive…
Astarion then lifted your arm and wiggled your wrist. “Say goodbye to Wyll, sweetheart.”
You giggled dramatically again. “Goodbye Wyll!”
He took a step forward and placed a gentle kiss on your forehead. “I’ll be back tomorrow once I have an update on what we discussed.”
Astarion pulled you away from him at once with a gasp. “Keeping secrets from me? Oh, you two lovebirds.”
Hold on!
No! You weren’t that close to Wyll.
As you were about to protest, Wyll spoke, “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you sound jealous, Astarion.”
“What is there to be jealous of, I wonder?”
You nodded vehemently, finding it utterly amusing how he sounded so territorial all of a sudden.
Adorable man.
Wyll gave a lighthearted chuckle before turning to leave. “Well, I’m sure I can think of a few reasons.”
You laughed way too loudly at his remark, which caused Astarion to click his tongue in annoyance.
Adorable.
The door closed shut behind him, and Astarion immediately spun you on your feet to fully face them.
“What were you thinking? Drinking a pint?”
You couldn’t care less about what he had to say in this moment, and simply glared at his face, your hazy mind reminding you just how much you adored him.
And before you could restrain yourself, the words tumbled from your mouth. “I… I really like you.”
Idiot.
A deafening silence settled around you, and you began to feel an increasing wave of nausea as he merely glared at you.
Then you giggled, trying to disperse the awkwardness as fast as possible.
He didn’t laugh with you, tugging at your hand instead. “I think it’s time to get some sleep, darling.”
Too bad you were clearly incapable of walking in a straight line, which earned his attention. Without a warning, you felt your balance shift rapidly as he scooped you in his arms, effortlessly carrying you along the dim corridor.
“Put me down! Astarion!”
Instinctively, you looped your arms around his neck for support, but still trying to wriggle out of his fierce hold.
“I don’t need to be carried… please put me down,” you whined. “I - I will curse you!”
An amused smile tugged at his lips. “How very ferocious of you. I suppose we should have gotten you drunk more often back then. I’m sure our foes would have fled in horror at the sight of you.”
You slumped into him with a pout. “Mean.”
He pushed the door to your room open with a nudge from his shoulder, before easing you back on your two feet again.
The room was plunged in darkness and you felt him shift away from you, setting alight a single candle next to your bed, and you blinked a few times to adjust to the clarity.
You were now entering the less amusing stage of your insobriety and you could feel yourself scowl at him, clumsily crossing your arms.
“I should have hexed you.”
“Darling, the only thing you’ll be hexing in that state is a doorknob.”
You snorted at his playful jab. “I was perfectly capable of walking!”
“Into a wall? Yes, indeed.”
He then moved back to your side, helping you out of your cloak and quickly wrapping a blanket around you.
The simple gesture was enough to melt your defiant demeanour at once.
The two of you stood there in silence, eyes locked and you found yourself wishing he’d kiss you, but you knew he never would.
Astarion valued consent above all else, and he would not cross any lines. Each time you had gotten ahead of yourself in terms of sobriety, he always reigned you in.
And that was just one of the many things you adored about him.
How safe he made you feel and how you knew he’d never take advantage of your vulnerability. 
“You need to properly rest,” he urged, ensuring the thick fabric around you was tucked properly in place.
Just as you were about to head to bed, you felt the room tilt to the left and you yelped, clutching onto him for support.
“I’m going to fall!” 
The walls around you began to swirl and sway and your own legs wobbled.
A genuine laughter rumbled across his chest as he patted your back. “You silly little goose. Your warped mind is playing tricks on you.”
That term of endearment caught you slightly off guard and your heart fluttered.
Gods…
Why was he so easy to love?
Or was this the alcohol talking? Were you truly so far gone, that the alcohol was merely making it easier to surface your feelings?
Either way, you wouldn’t voice them, and allowed him to guide you to your bed, helping you to slip under the bedsheets. 
It felt rather good being taken care of this way. 
Maybe he didn’t think of this as anything but a nuisance, but you were grateful, nonetheless. 
“Thank you…” you mumbled in a whisper, gripping his hand.
The ceiling was now begging to spin dangerously fast and you had to close your eyes to help with the overwhelming sensory overload. 
He didn’t reply back, but you felt him tugging his hand away from your grasp.
A sudden shiver of panic coursed through your body. “Please stay? You always leave…”
Please…
He relaxed his cool hand against yours.
Slowly, you peeled back an eyelid only to see him easing onto the spot next to you over the covers.
You turned on your side to glare at him and he mimicked you, meeting your eyes in silence.
“How do you feel?”
In love.
“Well…”
He nodded and you smiled warmly at him, probably looking rather silly, but too mesmerised by his face to even look away.
“May I touch you?” you asked hesitantly.
He arched his brow, but nodded.
You lifted your hand and with a single finger, you began to slowly trace the bridge of his nose, admiring how he didn’t just look perfect…
He felt perfect…
“You’re so beautiful…” you sighed, feeling the slight bump of his nose as you trailed down to his lips. “So… so beautiful.”
He chuckled deviously. “I’m all for praise, darling… do go on.”
And you wanted to, but you were beginning to feel lightheaded, and your hand dropped from his face and your eyes dropped close.
“Or not…” you heard him say.
His voice seemed so distant now as drowsiness enveloped your senses. A part of you wished you could trace all of his face with the pad of your finger, worshipping every inch of him.
“Please, don’t leave…” you found yourself repeating.
He clicked his tongue. “I will if you vomit on me.”
You giggled, managing to shift closer to his body and rest your head on his still chest. “Deal, handsome…”
Your heated body welcomed his coldness, and it didn’t take long for your busy mind to progressively quiet down as you drifted off into a pleasant sleep.
Tumblr media
It was the soft click of a door being shut that roused you from your sleep. With eyes still closed, you flipped onto your back with a pained groan as your body was hit with the aftermath of last night.
“Rise and shine,” Astarion’s honeyed voice filled the room.
You stretched yourself with a yawn, feeling your mouth dry as sawdust and an overwhelming thirst that nearly made you sob.
“I’m never drinking again…” you whined pitifully. 
The mattress dipped slightly next to you. “Well, how do you feel today?”
“Like death…”
“Your breath definitely reeks of it,” he said, voice dripping with disapproval. “I drew you a bath, as I anticipated you’d need one.”
At this, your eyes flew open. “Is this your chivalrous way of telling me I stink?” you grumbled, trying to make sense of your surroundings. 
The curtains were no longer drawn and the faint light bleeding from the top and bottom was enough to tell you the sun had already risen. 
He took your hand in his, tugging gently until you were sitting in front of him with your legs crossed. “Darling, you’re free to bask in that dreadful stench for all I care.”
You shot him a serious glare before bursting into laughter. “Good point. I need to get off these clothes…”
Astarion helped you on your feet and you carefully paced across the wooden floor and into the washroom.
A pleasant smell hit you as you stepped inside, with him following closely behind.
“I borrowed a few bath salts from Gale,” he informed, pointing to the round tub in the middle of the room, almost filled to the brim with steamy water. 
You glared at him in disbelief. “Borrowed as in… stolen?”
He shrugged.
You knew him too well.
“He does have a decent selection, yet manages to always carry the most interesting smells around,” he said, bringing you over to the large basin under a round mirror. “I minced peppermint and it should help with your breath,” he added, handing you a glass of water.
You did as he advised and took a gulp, rinsing your mouth eagerly before spitting the content onto the basin.
“So… are you going to tell me how the conversation with Ava went?”
Wiping your lips clean with a rag, you gave him a look.
“It could have gone worse, I suppose.”
“Charming,” he said. “Worse as in ‘I almost killed her’ or ‘She made me want to pluck my eyes out’?”
“All of the above, maybe,” you said with a roll of your eyes.
To be fair, after hearing her reasoning, she didn’t come across as that bad. But you couldn’t help but to still feel wary of her intentions in the long run.
Astarion was studying your face intensely as you emptied the glass of water to quench your thirst, the minty aftertaste doing wonders to your throat.
“Anything in particular I should know about?”
Besides her wanting to take my blood? Nothing at all, you thought grimly.
You merely shook your head.
“I’ll be waiting outside, then.”
Right.
Bath time.
You took a quick look in the mirror and nearly groaned out loud from the sight of your weary face.
Just as you were trying to strip the shirt you had on, you huffed in annoyance, which earned his attention before he slipped out of the washroom.
“You need help.”
You tried to pull the sleeve, but your body ached too much to comply. “I need help.”
Astarion slowly crossed the room again, and swiftly helped you out of your shirt.
You hissed as his cold knuckles brushed against your bare stomach. “Cold, cold…” you said, teeth jittering.
Being naked in front o fhim had long lost some of its inherent sexual meaning. It used to make you feel too exposed and only when the two of you were about to indulge in one another.
Now, it felt like something casual.
His stare didn’t linger on your breasts for too long or on your now hardening nipples.
“I apologise,” he said with a smile. “Let’s get you out of these next.”
Skilled fingers worked on the front of your trousers, undoing them slowly before carefully dropping on one knee and pulling them down along your thighs.
You had to look away to hide the rush of heat that had settled on your face.
Now that felt too intimate…
He tugged at your underwear next and shiveres began to prickle along your body.
You suddenly felt too exposed. 
Astarion had seen you this bare since you last slept together before reaching Moonrise Towers.
And this new predicament had your heart strumming hard in your chest.
You slipped out of your trousers and looked down to meet his crimson eyes. “What?”
“May I kiss you?”
You swallowed. Hard. “Where?”
He leaned in to press his cold lips to the dip of your hip, lingering for a few seconds before pulling away and rising to his full height again.
Gods…
“Do you need my help getting inside?” he asked and you could see it .
You could see the lust in his eyes.
You could hear the faint innuendo in his words.
And you could feel the familiar throb between your legs increasing.
“Yes…”
He promptly gripped your hand and you lifted each leg to dip into the nicely heated water, its surface covered in frothy suds. 
Slowly, you lowered yourself into a sitting position before leaning back.
Astarion placed a folded towel under your neck, so you could easily relax against the wooden tub as you sank below the waterline.  
“May I wash you?” he asked, settling himself on his knees behind you.
You immediately nodded, gripping the edges and trying your best to ignore the swell in between your folds.
It was almost embarrassing how easily he could turn you on with mostly his words and intonation. 
Your eyes fluttered shut and you jolted briefly when you felt a soft sponge being dragged from your neck and down your breasts.
A sigh parted your lips and you arched your back instinctively, just enough to raise your nipples above the waterline as he grazed each of them in circular motions.
You instantly clenched around nothing, knowing fully well that it would have driven him insane had his cock been buried inside you.
A second moan was heard when he started planting soft kisses along your jaw while his hand kept on gliding the sponge down your abdomen.
“Does that feel good?” he whispered in between kisses.
Your legs parted as you welcomed his ministrations. 
With his other hand he gripped your jaw and applied enough pressure until the back of your head hit his chest, his thumb caressingly you lovingly.
A strained whimper erupted from you when the sponge reached your folds, deliciously caressing the growing swell in between.
Your hips rolled a few times to increase the friction and you begged the Gods above to have him use his fingers instead…
“Please… Astarion…”
He planted a lingering kiss on your lips, pressing the sponge against you so you could grind desperately on it.
“Does it feel good, darling?”
“Use your fingers… please…” you begged against his lips, squeezing your legs together to trap his hand as you gripped the edges of the tub for support.
He chuckled darkly, dropping the sponge and he had to cover your mouth with his other hand to muffle a loud moan as he slid one finger along your folds.
“Do you remember how many you could take?”
Your eyes rolled shut as lust clouded your senses, hips rolling at a faster pace.
All you remembered was struggling to fit his cock inside at first…
The pad of his finger teased your swell a few times before he moved to place it at your entrance.
“Answer me.”
You could cry from the despair alone as he refused to slide a single one inside.
“I - I… two? Astarion… please… ”
He chuckled teasingly in response, and you 
The door to the washroom burst open, causing him to detach from you at once.
Shadowheart.
You let out a yelp, sinking until you were neck-deep in water.
“Ever heard of knocking?” Astarion’s words were dripping with poison.
“Even heard of not greeting people with... that?”
From this position you were almost at eye-level with his lower half, giving you a privileged view of his rather generous bulge, strained against his own trousers.
You felt heat flare in your cheeks as you remembered just how easily he would drip precum for you.
She hurriedly crossed the room and threw a robe at you. “Dress up. Quickly .”
Lust quickly turned into panic from the way Shadowheart glared worriedly at you.
“What happened?”
“Gale is leaving,” she said. “We just received word from Waterdeep that his contact has been killed.”
Tumblr media
TBC
994 notes · View notes
skatingbi · 5 months
Text
Yo we out here with some more Ace lives AU but i'll make them little bullet points so I dont have to write a whole essay. Enjoy my little headcanons!
Warning: Theres. So many. Im not sorry tho lmao
Ace joins the strawhats after the time skip, nobody really minds and theyre happy to spend time with luffy's older brother. He quickly becomes best friends with Nami. I just feel it in my soul that they would gossip together.
Both Ace and Luffy suffer from awful PTSD symptoms after Marineford. With Luffy, his crew eventually learn how to help him. With Ace, though, he only has Luffy to lean on for support until the crew get aquanted with him.
Actually, to add onto that bc im a sucker for acesan, Sanji is the first after Luffy to reach out during one of his bad days when even really small triggers can make Ace spiral into a panic attack.
More acesan sorry lmao. Ace is usually either out on the figure head of the sunny looking at the ocean when Luffy isnt occupying that spot, in the gallery when Sanji is working, or just out on the deck laying on the grass. He especially likes being around sanji in the gallery.
Pre timeskip Ace is extremely different than this AU's Ace because yes he's silly and carries an air of confidence with him still, but he's never shirtless around others anymore. For a long while, Ace doesnt leave the ship or pick fights. His confidence is a facade for a long time.
Depression hits ace like a truck in this AU and its only eased with the help of Luffy and Sanji. Chopper also helps the best he can with what he's got. Ace is grateful for this, and eventually his old self starts to emerge more and more. Luffy is there with him the entire time.
Ace has insomnia, but so does Sanji and Zoro. He'll hang out with them during late night hours either on watch with zoro sharing stories or with Sanji talking to him while he's doing prep work or inventory. He'll probably also fend off luffy when his little brother tries to break into the locked fridge lmao
But more funny headcanons!! Im getting depressing here sorry!! Ace will mess around with Luffy and entertain him before meal times by play fighting. Their asses will be duking it out on the deck and Chopper will be all concerned and Zoro and Nami will be like "Siblings." Like thats the most obvious answer in the world.
Tbh, the crew members with any type of sibling or sibling bond will get it. Luffy will deadass try to steal Ace's food and Ace will smack his hand lightly with haki and Luffy will dramatically exclaim how mean his big brother is.
"Ace is so mean! I'll starve to death!" "Yeah, sure, you little menace"
Ace regaining strength over his devil fruit powers by making little shapes out of fire for chopper, luffy, and usopp. Franky and brook join the group to give ace prompts. It becomes a nightly occurance at this point.
The first time he decides to go shirtless in front of the crew, they realize his old tattoo is replaced by scar tissue that covers nearly his entire back. Nobody says anything, but I think Franky and Nami would be really understanding. Also luffy. Luffy would be like "We match! Ace has a cool scar like I do!" and it reassures him but also breaks his heart simultaneously.
Ace eating nearly as much as luffy and Sanji being like "Are you sure youre not blood related? Because youre both gonna run my kitchen dry"
Ace not really having a defined role in the crew and them not really minding it. Ace floats around basically. It kind of fits him more that way since he knows a bit of everything. He'll look at maps with nami to chart a course to the next island, He'll fight alongside zoro and sanji, he'll tell usopp about different ways to use combustion and heat in weapons or ammo, etc.
Ace and nami using the power of their good looks to scam people lmao and ace being able to swindle men and women. Nami is impressed and also jealous.
Luffy growing his hair out so him and Ace match, but luffy apparently has curlier hair than Ace so its just a fluffy mess until usopp caves and teaches them how to actually take care of their hair (luffy does not absorb a single thing and ace now has to help luffy with his hair when it gets as long as his)
Ace noticing one day how zoro looks at luffy and being like "yikes...you got it bad, man" and zoro just being like "SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP-" but ace is fucking cackling and now zoro cant be too mad about that. He's still embaressed as fuck about it though.
Expanding on that actually: Ace actually being supportive because he knows how loyal zoro is. He isnt worried. Plus, Luffy is extremely strong and it takes a lot to actually hurt him. So he's like "dude you gotta just tell him straight up he is dense as hell"
Ace the ultimate wingman for zoro. Not luffy, though. That's what Nami is there for. Him an nami are definitely working together and placing bets on when and who asks who out with robin, usopp, sanji, and franky. I wont say what they chose for their bet but robin definitely wins.
BUT luffy, nami, zoro, robin, usopp and franky place bets on Ace and Sanji. Ace is never subtle. He flirts openly and is proud of it. Sanji is very subtle with ace, though. The crew immediately see past his bullshit of trying to be straight. Its painful to watch. Poor sanji is trying so hard to remain closeted but the closet is literally glass. I wont say who betted what as per my last bullet point, but surprisingly zoro won. Everyone (nami) is outraged by this incident. Luffy is here for a good time.
The crew playing card games except they learn sometimes ace cannot handle flammable objects because he will burn them accidentally. Competitive card games are now banned if ace is playing.
Ace is also banned from using his devil fruit powers while sparring on the deck. The poor grass on there has been burned so many times. Nami has kicked his ass over it.
Ace and zoro get really competitive. Not like zoro and sanji, but they'll spar without weapons and at least one of them will leave with a busted lip or eyebrow and a lecture from chopper. Theyre chill though they just forget to hold back on their punches. Ace one time used haki and had to help franky fix the deck afterwards.
195 notes · View notes
jjledragon · 5 months
Text
Life Series Alliances/Teams I want to see in future seasons
Jimmy and Cleo aka the Teachers.
I think it'd be fun to see them bond over their previous jobs as teachers, and Jimmy could use the protection Cleo offers by being aggressive and intimidating.
Scott and Joel
It'll continue Scott's trend of never teaming up with the same people twice, and Joel's aggression paired with Scott's chillness would be a fun dynamic.
Cleo and/or Pearl and/or Gem and/or Lizzie
All girls alliance YES PLEASE
BigB and Jimmy aka the Evo SMP members that still haven't had a win (at the time I'm posting this)
Mumbo and Skizz
Skizz's extrovertedness paired with Mumbo's introvertedness would be hilarious. The idea of Skizz giving an affirmation like he did in Limited Life and Mumbo just crumbles to the ground would be iconic.
Gem and Etho aka the Canadians
Gem could be the PvPer and builder and Etho could be the redstoner and her hypeman.
Jimmy and Scar
I don't care if Scott forbids it it would be a pairing full of shenanigans. And since they definitely wouldn't make it to the end, they could focus on making some chaos
Grian and BigB
I personally don't count the Secret Soulmates from Double Life as an alliance bc of how badly it failed, so I'd like to give them a doover where they're teamed up from the get go
BDubs and Jimmy
They could bond over being made fun of and being easily reactive. They would make each other worse off because of it, but I would be an amazing duo.
Pearl and Ren
Ren's theatricality and Pearl's deranged nature would be one hell of a plot device.
Lizzie and Joel
Their undying bond and their tendency to make chaos would be on hell of a watch.
Joel and Cleo
They would singlehandedly destroy the server the second they're both on red
Scar, Scott, and Skizzleman
All their names start with a "Sc" sound, which Skizz would have a ball with.
BigB and Scar
The amount of swindling/gaslighting they would do would cause permanent psychological damage to everyone else
Impulse and Cleo
These two would rather die than let go of a grudge they're holding. BDubs and BigB better watch tf out
164 notes · View notes
inkfamy · 2 months
Text
I do really enjoy the fanon of gestalt bonds, but also I'm super into the idea of a combiner gestalt basically just being drift compatible because imagine that there's a handful of guys that are so tuned into your very being, so similar and complimentary to you that you can literally merge together, and those guys are Brawl, Vortex and Swindle
87 notes · View notes
noisycroissant · 4 months
Text
Astarion x Named Tav
"Thank you for today," he says as he towels her hair dry, "Today was rather fun. Gale still has a whiff about him though."
Y'ris lets out a huff of annoyance. Today had been anything but fun for her — swindled by a djinn who managed to turn Gale into a wheel of cheese, magicked into some goddamn forest overrun by beasts and to top that all off, they'd had to fight a shapeshifter posing as a clown (of all the things it could shapeshift into)!
Oh yes, come to the circus! Fun for the whole family!!
Astarion puts the towel down and presses his forehead into her shoulder.
"Y'ris? Can I ask you something?"
"Mm? Did something happen when I'd gone to clean up?" she asks.
"No, it's about earlier in the day. At the circus...when we uh...met that dryad," Astarion says as he moves over on the bed and motions at her to lie down.
They lie down facing each other, her hand moving on its own to hold his, entwining their fingers. She presses a small kiss to his knuckles, "Tell me, my love. What's bothering you?"
"Why did you lie, Y'ris?"
"I didn't lie, Astarion. The dryad said all the answers were true, and what did she say...'a bond impenetrable as a shield'...yes, that's what she said,"
His hand cups her cheek and their eyes meet. She see the tears gathering in his deep red eyes.
"You knew each answer was a lie. We literally have something that lets us see into each others' heads."
"Then you'd know why I lied," she answers quietly, "I've known you for a short time, Astarion, but the person I've come to know and love would not like a random dryad, at a circus of all places, to know what his worst fear and greatest regret is."
The tears spill over as he closes the small gap to press his lips to hers. He presses his forehead against hers, his tears wetting her cheek.
"Why must you care for me so? I do not have anything to give back but this wretched life of mine," he whispers.
"You don't have to give me anything. I give you my love freely, and I want you to take as much and as greedily as you may want," Y'ris tells him as she wipes his cheek with her thumb.
Astarion moves down to bury his face in her chest. Outbursts of emotion are rare for him. Y'ris kisses his hair and gently rubs his back as his tears slowly end in gasps and shudders.
"It's alright, my love. I'll be here for you, always," she tells him.
******
128 notes · View notes
iridescentis · 4 months
Text
Scar was always a bad omen for the rest of the players, the way he would swindle anyone with imbalanced trades and come by to their bases just to make a deal in his own favour, everyone grew not to trust him. Even those who loved him and loyally allied with him never truly trusted him, and he was so easy to betray. So he was the wizard, trader Scar, he embraced his reputation as a scammer and a con artist instead of trying to get rid of it, and that's what everyone knew him for.
Pearl, on the other hand, started successfully, she had a strong alliance with Scott, a bond that couldn't be broken - they would do anything for each other, they were inseperable. As soon as they were officially soulmates, all of that disappeared. Pearl was driven mad from isolation and her reputation as an omen of chaos, death and destruction only increased every time she spoke to someone. She let that reputation control her, and that reputation led her to victory. Even after Double Life, people didn't trust her anymore - she was just a ticking time bomb, and every player was waiting for the Scarlet Pearl to make her return, or they weren't waiting for her at all. Regardless, she loved as hard as she always did, she loved BigB so much she would've sacrificed everything for him, even if no one else would. They were alone together.
Secret Life was Pearl's redemption, her shot at being part of something instead of the driving force against it. That role was filled by Scar. The villain. Pearl's moment in the sun was Scar's downfall, his madness and loneliness - becoming harbinger of chaos. When they fought the final battle, Pearl saw herself in him. She saw the corrrupted and abandoned villain nobody would go near, 'the guy with no friends'.
She couldn't save him, like the mounders and BigB did for her, but she could give him the win she always needed - an honest fight to the death. She didn't want to kill him, she didn't even want to fight anymore, but she had to - so he wouldn't spend the rest of his existence trying to kill someone who would rather forget they ever knew each other.
56 notes · View notes
if-you-fan-a-fire · 1 year
Photo
Tumblr media
“SENTENCE IMPOSED ON BOND SALESMAN,” Owen Sound Sun-Times. March 1, 1933.  Page 5. ---- C.. E. Strickland, Peterboro', Given Two Years For Converting Funds ---- PETERBORO, March 1 - Found guilty Tuesday of having converted to his own use $1,300 of funds entrusted to him by Mrs. Marion Cameron of Indian River, C. E. Strickland, bond salesman, of Lakefield, was sentenced by Judge Huycke to a term of two years less one day, in the Ontario Reformatory at Guelph, one year to be determinate and one indeterminate.
0 notes
macaronis-telegraph · 2 years
Text
Queer WWI Literature
This is a very niche and limited category, so I’ve been trying to throw together a list of what I can find out there for anyone else who might also be interested. What follows are all books that contain LGBTQ+ rep of any kind, that also involve the First World War as a central theme.
Titles with an asterisk* are the ones I have personally read, and would be more than happy to talk about/answer any questions about their content/rep!
Written in the 20th Century
Alf, by Bruno Vogel (1929)
Despised and Rejected, by Rose Allatini (pseud. A.T. Fitzroy) (1918)*
Lads: Love Poetry of the Trenches, edited by Martin Taylor (1989)
The Memorial, by Christopher Isherwood (1932)
My Father and Myself, by J.R. Ackerley (1968)
The Prisoners of War: A Play in Three Acts, by J.R. Ackerley (1925)*
The Regeneration Trilogy (Regeneration, The Eye in the Door, The Ghost Road), by Pat Barker (1991, 1993, 1995)*
A Scarlet Pansy, by Robert Scully (1932)*
Strange Meeting, by Susan Hill (1976)
Written in the 21st Century
The Absolutist, by John Boyne (2011)
Across Your Dreams, by Jay Lewis Taylor (2016)
Alec, by William di Canzio (2021)
Ashthorne, by April Yates (2022)
Awfully Glad, by Charlie Cochrane (2014)
Bonds of Earth, by G.N. Chevalier (2012)*
The Boy I Love, by Marion Husband (2005)*
The Daughters of Mars, Thomas Keneally (2012)
Eleventh Hour, by Elin Gregory (2016)
The Fallen Snow, by John J. Kelley (2012)
Fighting Proud: The Untold Story of the Gay Men Who Served in Two World Wars, by Stephen Bourne (2017) – (I know I said fiction, but I’m going to leave this one here anyhow)
Flower of Iowa, by Lance Ringel (2014)*
The Great Swindle, by Pierre Lemaitre (2013)*
The Indian Clerk, by David Leavitt (2007)
The Inheritance of Solomon Farthing, by Mary Paulson-Ellis (2019) *
In Memoriam, by Alice Winn (2023)
The Lie, by Helen Dunmore (2014)
The Paying Guests, by Sarah Waters (2014)
A Pride of Poppies, short story collection published by Manifold Press (2015)
Promises Made Under Fire, by Charlie Cochrane (2013)
The Shell House, by Linda Newbery (2002)*
Spectred Isle, by K.J. Charles (2017)
The Stranger’s Child, by Alan Hollinghurst (2011)
The Warm Hands of Ghosts, by Katherine Arden (2024)
Whistling in the Dark, by Tamara Allen (2008)*
Wild with All Regrets, by Emma Deards (2023)
The World and All that it Holds, by Aleksandar Hemon (2023)
This is a dynamic list, which I will continue to update whenever I find something new. If you know of anything that isn’t on this list and needs to be, please let me know!
776 notes · View notes
theostrophywife · 2 years
Text
bath water.
Tumblr media
masterlist (eris x reader) author's note: just a soft fic for my eris girlies. also the pic above (if you know, you know) warning: fluffy smut. summary: after a long day of presiding over the autumn court, all the high lord really wants is a bath with his mate.
Eris loved it when you played with his hair. 
Whether it was during the day while lounging in the garden with a book in one hand with your fingers raking through your mate’s hair in the other or at night in the privacy of your bedchambers when you were pulling at his russett locks as he brought you to the edge over and over again, Eris couldn’t get enough. 
He’d always been precarious about his hair and never let anyone touch it, opting to learn how to braid it himself rather than letting strangers come near his sleek locks. Until you came along. 
The first time you twirled a fiery red strand between your fingers, Eris actually blushed. It was in the initial stages of your relationship when you were still sneaking around to hide the mating bond from his ruthless father. Eris was lying in your bed with his head propped up on your lap as you arranged his long hair into a braid. 
“You’re just so pretty, babe,” you murmured as you kissed the tip of his nose.
Ever since then, Eris jumped at any opportunity to have your fingers in his hair. His absolute favorite was when you shampooed his scalp in the bath, just as you were doing now. Your mate, the High Lord of the Autumn Court, was nothing but putty in your hands as he leaned back against you, his toned body light and relaxed while you worked your magic. 
As soon as Eris walked into your shared bedchambers, it took one look to discern that your mate desperately needed a relaxing bath to wash away the stress of the day. You took great care in making sure the water was the perfect temperature and took it upon yourself to pick out a mixture of soaps and herbs that tinted the bath a pretty pink hue. It had taken Eris all but a brief glance at your naked form waiting for him in the large marble tub before he was undressing and crawling into the steaming water. 
“Did you have a long day, my love?” 
Eris groans as warm water swirls around his tense shoulders. “That might be the understatement of the night," he sighs as you massage the knots forming on his shoulders. "With our new initiative to pay our farmer’s fair wages, I have been bombarded with complaint after complaint from the nobility.” He rolls his eyes in annoyance. “As if raising their taxes to pay for what they’ve swindled under my father’s rule is the most abhorrent thing out of this whole ordeal.” 
You hum in disapproval, massaging the concoction of herbs onto your mate’s scalp. His eyes flutter close, those long lashes of his kissing the tops of his freckled cheeks. “They will cease their incessant whining once we unveil our plan to open trade between our court and the Continent.”
Your mate stirs underneath you, leaning further into your touch while you lather up his russett locks. “The meeting with the ambassadors went well, then?” You nod as Eris beams proudly. “I can’t say I’m surprised. If anyone could convince those uppity bastards to agree to our terms, it would be you. Have I ever told you how charming and irresistible you are, my love?” 
You chuckle in response. “Not nearly enough, but I’m sure that you’ll more than make up for it once we deliver our good news to the nobles no later than the end of this week.” 
Eris smirks. “I can think of a few ways to show my appreciation, little fox.” You flick his nose and your mate chuckles, pressing a teasing kiss on your collarbone. “I assume my brothers were on their best behavior while you sealed the deal?” 
“They were. Though I may have prefaced the meeting with a promise to turn them into frogs should they choose to embarrass me in front of our guests.” 
The chuckle that slipped from those full, pouty lips awakened goosebumps over your flesh. “Is it wrong that I find it incredibly sexy when you threaten my kin?” 
“Absolutely not,” you reply with a smirk. Pulling the leash taut on his brothers was a necessary part of the political game. You understood that even before you became their sister-in-law, so you used your reputation for dabbling in the dark arts to your advantage. It didn’t matter that you wouldn’t bother wasting your powers for the transfiguration of such miserable males, but it was still fun to watch them cower at the prospect of being turned into helpless creatures based on whatever whim you were feeling that day. “Besides, I never threatened your brothers. I merely gave them a choice.” 
“My benevolent High Lady,” Eris purrs. You loved the way the title rolls off his tongue almost as much as you loved your mate. 
“My spoiled High Lord,” you tease in response while rinsing the shampoo out of his hair. 
Eris lets out a pleased sigh. “You have no idea how much I’ve been looking forward to this all day,” he rests his head against your chest, hooking an arm around your knee as he lazily traces patterns through the bubbles clinging onto your soft skin. “The promise of your hands in my hair might have been my only motivation for not throttling our lovely council members.”
“I see, so my mate only seeks me out for my scalp massages.” 
“Amongst other things,” Eris responds huskily. He turns around, causing the water to spill over the sides of the tub. 
You giggle as he saunters up to you, placing soft kisses all over your face while pressing his body flush against yours. Eris is warm underneath your touch and growing hotter still as his lips finally hit their mark. You’ve been mated and married to this male for nearly a decade, but your heart still races every time he kisses you. There’s something sweet and warm in his kisses, tasting of honey and cinnamon as he prods his wicked tongue into your mouth. 
A sigh of satisfaction leaves your lips as his hands snake up your spine, bringing you closer while your fingers tangle in his hair. Despite the fact that you’ve been sitting in the bath for nearly half an hour, it never grows cold thanks to the fire coursing through your mate’s veins. Eris groans in pleasure as you straddle his lap, clambering to feel more of him, taste more of him, take as much of him as he’s willing to give. 
The fiery thread of your bond snaps tight and you feel the desire scorch through the connection like wildfire. It makes every fiber of your being come alive to hold Eris like this. His hand palms your exposed breasts, cupping them gently before teasing the sensitive peaks of your nipples. You moan into his neck as your mate takes a nipple into his mouth, swirling and sucking with wicked intent. 
Eris loves making his High Lady needy and desperate, teasing you with his mouth and fingers, coaxing every moan and whimper out of you with a satisfied smirk. 
“Come here, little fox. I want to show you just how much I missed you,” he murmurs against your neck. 
The pads of his fingers trace a path of heat down the valley of your breasts, dipping lower past your belly button until he reaches the place where you want him most. Eris drags his pointer and middle finger through your flaps, his erection pressing against your thigh when he feels how wet you are for him. 
“Is this all for me, my love?” Eris asks with a smirk. “This pretty little cunt of yours is just begging to be stuffed with my fingers.”
“Baby, please,” you plead huskily. “I’ve been waiting all day.”
Your mate doesn’t need to be told twice. Eris would burn the whole world down just to keep you warm. With a wicked grin, he pumps his fingers into your sopping wet cunt, curving them inside your walls as heat sweeps through your soft skin. It's euphoric, feeling Eris deep within your pussy, untangling every knot of stress from your body while he works you with those skilled fingers. 
Eris knew every curve and crevice of his mate’s body, but yet he couldn't help but examine the arch of your back, the parting of your lips, and the drooping of your heavy lids, committing all of it to memory while he continues to pleasure you. His thumb flicks over your clit and his touch is absolutely divine, nearly sending you into overdrive as he rubs the sensitive bundle of nerves. 
You were close, so close, but you didn’t want to cum without feeling all of Eris. The tug of lust and desire you sent down the bond communicates how badly you ache to have your mate inside your walls. The High Lord growls, obliging the silent request as he positions you over his lap, pumping himself twice before letting you take all of him. 
As you sink lower and lower onto his length, Eris groans into your neck, dragging his teeth over the hollow of your throat as he fully sheathes himself inside your pussy. 
“Gods, I fucking love you,” Eris groans, tilting your chin so he can devour you whole. His teeth clash against your bottom lip as he kisses you deeply, prodding his tongue past your parted lips to claim you. This possessive side of him was absolutely thrilling and you loved when he marked you as wholly his. 
“I love you too, baby.” 
Eris responds by bucking his hips, driving his cock deeper into you as you groan with pleasure. You dip your forehead down to his, slowly rocking your hips back and forth, riding him with a slow, steady rhythm that has both of you sighing with gratification. His hands snake up your spine, leaving a fiery path in their wake as he clings onto you. 
As much as you enjoyed a proper fucking, the intimacy of making love was undefeated. The act was deeply romantic and felt special when shared by two souls who knew each other better than they knew themselves. 
With every sway of your hips, you could feel the bond glow between you. Brushing back the fiery strands from your mate’s face, you gaze into those loving eyes and voice the desire that’s been growing within you since his succession. 
“Eris,” you whisper softly, gaining his attention. 
He dips his forehead to yours, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “Yes, my love?” 
“I’ve been thinking. With the success of this new trade and the official establishment of our rule, things have been going well in the Autumn Court, has it not?” 
Eris smirks. “We’re in the middle of having sex and you wish to speak of political matters? I don’t know if I’m turned on or offended.”
You chuckle, pecking him on the lips. “I have a point, I promise.” 
“Yes my love, all is well in the fox’s den. Thanks to our joint effort. We make a rather splendid team, if I do say so myself.” 
You bite your lip, considering your next words carefully. “What do you think about adding to our team?” you ask earnestly as you twirl a russet strand between your fingers. “Because I’d really like to give you an heir, Eris.”
During the past few months, the thought of bearing his children has grown in your heart - a secret desire that you were glad to finally voice. For as long as you could remember, you’ve always wanted to be a mother. Despite your difficult upbringing in the court of foxes, you dreamed that one day your home would become a suitable place to raise children of your own. As you and Eris strive to make the Autumn Court a better place, the opportunity seemed more and more plausible than it ever has. These lands were prospering and peace had finally settled over Prythian for the first time in gods knew how long. It seemed like the perfect time to start looking towards the future.
As you did so, all you saw was Eris. This beautiful male you called your mate deserved every bit of happiness that this realm could offer. Despite the sly and cunning facade he’d been forced to don over the years, you knew that deep down, all Eris ever really wanted was to take care of his family. As complicated as the Vanserras were, the blood of the fox ran thick. In their own way, they were beginning to heal from the damage that Beron had inflicted and the same could be said about the Autumn Court as a whole. The familial relationships and political chessboard were slowly but surely starting to mend itself and the conditions were ripe to start thinking about adding to the brood.
“Do you truly mean it?” Eris asks softly.
The way he holds his breath as he cradles your face in his hands makes you grin. A spark awakens in his warm amber eyes, appearing like molten gold as the moonlight filters through the glass panes of the bathing room. 
Eris was no stranger to family dysfunction. His father had been a monster, his mother a prisoner, and his brothers, with the exception of Lucien, were a product of hate and cruelty, always scheming to claw their way to the top. But now that Eris was High Lord, it gave him a chance to heal from the generational trauma passed down within the blood of the fox. He’d never thought about having children before, never had much time to consider the thought what with his navigating through the constantly changing political backdrop of the Autumn Court and his own volatile familial relations, but that was before he met you. 
With his ascension to the throne, the doubt and worries of siring his own brood faded away. Eris vowed to himself that he’d never be like his father. He’d love and protect his own children, just as he loved and protected you. All his immortal life, Eris was determined to be the father and husband that Beron could never be and now you were presenting him the chance to be a better male. To build a world where children weren’t viewed as pawns or bargaining chips, but as a reminder of the love that two people shared. The High Lord realizes in that moment that he wants nothing more than to start a family with you. 
“I want to start a family,” you whisper. “I know that neither one of us come from a particularly positive upbringing, but I think you would make a great father. You have taken care of this house, this court, for centuries and I know that you’d do the same for our future children.”
Silver lines your mate’s eyes. Eris could see it now - you full and pregnant with his child, as radiant and glowing as you always were, but with a life growing inside of you that he helped create. He’d teach his son or daughter to ride through the jewel toned forests, train them to wield the fire in their veins, tuck them in bed every night, chase after them with your hounds, protect them from every harm and spoil them rotten with love and affection. For the first time in a long time, Eris allowed himself to dream because he knew that you’d be there to see it through.
A love like yours deserved to be immortalized.
“It would be an honor and a pleasure to start a family with you, my love. You are my entire heart. Any children you bear me will be a living, breathing testament of our love. I wish to make my High Lady a mother more than anything else in this realm.”
You beam, kissing your mate in response. “Then put a baby in me, Eris.” 
Eris kisses you deeply, snaking his arms around your waist as he guides your hips over his lap.
“As my High Lady wishes.”
802 notes · View notes
Text
WARNING: EARTHSPARK SPOILERS & LONG POST AHEAD
READ AT YOUR OWN RISK
Tumblr media
Leaked Synopsis of Episodes 1-26
Taken from this video; originally a 4chan leak.
>101-102: Secret Legacy
> Robby, reeling from his family's move from Philly to the rural town of Witwicky, finds new joy and purpose when he and his sister Mo bond with the first-ever Earth-born Transformers: the Terrans, Twitch and Thrash. Tied emotionally to their human siblings by emotionsharing cyber-sleeves, the Terrans quickly become the target for cyber-human villain Mandroid. It'll take Optimus and his Autobots along with Ranger Dot and Dr. Malto to save the kids and Terrans, all while keeping their existence and adoption a secret to prowling Decepticons and the mysterious agency of GHOST.
>103: Moooooo-ving In
> As the Malto family gets used to its new members, Bumblebee hopes to quickly knock out his mission in all things Autobot. But he's flummoxed when they seem more interested in cows and games than the wisdom he has to impart, maybe all parties could do a little more listening.
>104: H.O.U.S.E. Rules
> Thrash chafes at the "restrictive" Malto family H.O.U.S.E. rules, and he convinces Mo to go along with his loopholes around them. But when the Decepticon Swindle does some exploiting of his own to convince Thrash and Mo to help him find his missing brother, they soon find themselves playing by a much more dangerous set of rules.
>105: Classified
> GHOST Special Agent Schloder is in pursuit of a Decepticon that is targeting kids (really a misidentification of Twitch and Robby). Meanwhile, Dot is put through GHOST orientation, where she learns that GHOST's intentions might not be completely above board.
>106: Traditions
> Robby begs off Alex's traditional Wakwak hunt, so Alex shares his family history with Bumblebee, while Twitch, eager to gain her own traditions, encounters her "Dad2" -- Wheeljack.
>107: Friends and Family
> The Terrans' erratic behavior may be reflecting Mo and Robby's anxiety about their first day at their new school. Or it could be something far worse...
>108: Decoy
> While out on a mission to capture three tricky tuneful Mini-Cassette bots, Optimus and Megatron have a disagreement about GHOST's treatment of Decepticons.
>109-110: Age of Evolution
> Twitch and Thrash wonder if they're the only two Terrans in the universe, and they venture to see if that's true. With the help of Optimus, Bumblebee, Alex, Robby, and Mo, they relocate the cave of their origin and find much more than the Emberstone. With the birth of three new Terrans (Hashtag, Nightshade, and Jawbreaker) the Malto family has grown. But will these new allies be enough to rescue Dot and Megatron from the clutches of Mandroid?
>111: Hashtag Oops
> Twitch helps Hashtag choose her new altmode, and it takes them for a wild and GHOST-ly ride. Meanwhile, Alex and Bee struggle to hold down the fort with the new Terrans when Dot has to leave for work and the kids go to school.
>112: Outtakes
> Jawbreaker is feeling nervous about his altmode. How does he choose the right one? A conversation with Mom gives him an idea: use a camera to inspire bots into telling him why they chose theirs! But when Hashtag gets involved, the scale of the project gets a little out of hand.
>113: Missed Connection
> When Nightshade's feeling isolated from the rest of the Malto family, they find a new connection in the most unlikely of places...
>114: Security Protocols
> When Mo, Robby, and their Terran siblings are locked down in the Dugout, there's no way to avoid longsimmering conflict.
>115: Bear Necessities
> When Twitch gifts Dot a baby bear cub for Mother's Day, the two of them and Robby embark on a journey to return the baby to its own Mom... who, unbeknownst to them, is tussling with the other Maltos at the homestead!
>116: Warzone
> Robby and Mo join the Terrans on a visit to the Spacebridge Memorial Park, but the memory of the siege opens old wounds... and more... for Megatron.
>117-118: Home
> The kids and Terrans sneak out for a night of fun in Philadelphia, but their dreams of visiting the big city transform into a nightmare.
>119: A Stygi Situation
> Jawbreaker gains a dinosaur altmode, but instead of changing into it, the altmode changes him.
>120: Disarmed
> As Mandroid secretly works in GHOST, Robby, Mo, and the Terrans attempt to force new cyber-sleeve powers to unlock, with disastrous results.
>121: What Dwells Within
> The Malto kids are lost in a maze of underground tunnels with a mysterious monster stalking them. In order to survive they have to team up with Starscream! But can they trust him?
>122: Prime Directive (or Once Upon a Prime)
> Robby's cyber-sleeve illness threatens his life, so Mo renounces ever touching the Emberstone and Quintus Prime shows Mo why she's the hero her family needs.
>123: Stowed Away, Stowaway
> When Bumblebee is called away on a secret spy mission, Thrash, Twitch, Mo and the others decide to go on their own secret mission to protect Bee.
>124: The Battle of Witwicky
> The truth about the Terrans is revealed as the Malto family makes a last stand against Croft and her sinister forces within GHOST.
>125-126: Last Hope
> The Malto family must overcome insurmountable odds to stop Mandroid once and for all, and save Cybertronian kind.
Tumblr media
Posted Nov. 6, 2022
Source: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2K0HT1wyjqI (originally leaked on 4chan, has since been deleted)
Mod: Firefly
374 notes · View notes
floor031 · 1 month
Text
re my last rb: my ranking of nami's favourite partners for general illegal activities whenever they hit a new island, pre & post-timeskip, including but not limited to:
swindling
scamming
small-scale grifting
gambling (& therefore cheating at gambling)
small-scale heisting (ones that require infiltration or more subtlety than usual)
ok let's go
pre-ts (pre-grand line):
zoro - it's so fun to get dramatic with him. he's very perceptive, he always plays along no matter what, he knows when to push the intimidation (and is very good at it. eternal attack dog privilege ftw) & when to dial back. he also knows nami best/longest out of them, though that quickly stops making a difference in most contexts
usopp - OBVIOUSLY!! he is quite literally perfect in every grift you can think of. the only problem is that he starts fumbling when the other party at, say, the casino gets a lil too threatening/seems to be catching on. whereas nami (& zoro) chase the adrenaline he doesn't like to toe the line TOO much.
sanji - automatic 3rd b/c she gets annoyed with how he can't function when a hot woman so much as breathes his way (she doesn't even scam other women! not when she can help it!) or if it's a grift that requires him to get the least bit touchy with her. but he IS objectively GOOD at it.
GREAT WALL OF CHINA
400. luffy - she does not let him grift OR gamble with her. subtlety of a fucking toddler. derails every single grift/mini heist. NEGATIVE poker face, ESPECIALLY when he's actively trying. when she's forced to bring him along though he always notices something she hasn't because he is bizarrely perceptive like that, he just doesn't really care. unfortunately this also means he doesn't always care to inform her about what he observes. (luffy: "but you told me to keep quiet!!") he also has really good luck so if he manages to stay quiet and not attract attention he can act as a good luck charm. however that is impossible
(later) pre-ts:
usopp - everything stays the same AND he's getting better at keeping his cool. what's not to love. this is their bonding activity
zoro - nami has learned the hard way that they both CANNOT take themselves seriously for long when they are required to get touchy. he's also demoted bc he refuses to part with his swords, which is really quite inconvenient if she wants him to be her partner for, say, a gala dinner they're sneaking into.
sanji - still 3rd but a closer 3rd now!! stay strong sansan!! more on earlier, grifting with him isn't as effortless/fun as it is w usopp or zoro but that is in no way due to lack of skill on his part. he's not just good at landing a cover; he's strategic like zoro and flexible like usopp. plus, he just FITS into a high class setting with the seamlessness that neither usopp nor zoro have which makes him very, very useful for grifts requiring more formality. however due to his also aforementioned flaws he cannot hit top 2 im (not) sorry...... ALSO! this is partly bc im so sanamipilled but i do think that she's grown to enjoy the touchiness sometimes - and now she can admit it to herself. 's a fun little excuse for her to indulge sanji a bit, especially if their mark for the night is easy
robin - she is last bc she is usually simply not interested in all that. however she will creep people out with her general aura when needed!
post-ts:
usopp - everything is just so easy with him x2. they fall back into their dynamic and it's perfect and even BETTER than before because they're both a little out of practice after 2 years, but they've also both got new tricks up their sleeves. they don't get as many chances TO grift anymore in the new world though. always onto the next big adventure. plus now she's notorious enough that people actually RECOGNISE her in bigger cities/towns (she's not too happy about this)
sanji - he's been promoted :) but also demoted especially freshly post-ts bc of fishman island related crimes.
zoro - he doesn't let nami convince him into grifting with her anymore :-(( but if nami still requires someone to stand menacingly behind her as she extorts some rando then [mbappe voice] He Will Be There No Matter What
luffy stays the same :p
chopper is too young to be engaging in these activities & franky and brook are wayy too conspicuous. jinbei just joined they do not have the time for that shit yet. also i havent read beyond wano
23 notes · View notes
skylarsblue · 26 days
Text
★Bittersweet Discussions★
Tumblr media
✭Red Dead Redemption✭
★Fem!Reader, use of Y/N, mention of Isaac & Eliza's death, attempted mugging, mention of abusive family, trauma bonding(?), hurt comfort, mostly fluff though. Same universe as ★Sugar Cube★ because I'm stuck on them. Not proof-read.★
It was a bit upsetting leaving Valentine, it was a pleasant town with a lot of charm, but it was clearly getting a bit too hot. Rumors of Leviticus Cornwall and Pinkertons swarming around were cause for concern, so the time left in the area was limited, ticking down quickly. Which is what prompted Y/N to practically beg for more excuses to go to town, be it for simple errands or for theft. She wasn’t picky which.
Dutch wasn’t going to decline her want to contribute, not when she’d truly proved how good she was at swindling without bloodshed. But, he didn’t trust her all that much. She supposed it was fair, she hadn’t been around too long, and when they found her, she was essentially a damsel in distress. She wasn’t too concerned in proving herself to the man either. That odd, foreboding feeling he brought with him never left. Though, she managed to hide her skeptical glances whenever he’d get into a speech.
Arthur mentioned it once, and she felt what he said rang very true. Dutch had a gift for speaking. She held her tongue, but she couldn’t help but agree. He had the gift of speech, and that was really it. A lot of words that sounded relevant or full of purpose, but when she truly listened, it felt aimless. Walking in circles. It was a lot of mannerisms that commanded respect and big words of empty encouragement, things that made him sound like a level-headed leader. She’d met men like that before. Mostly preachers. Not that Dutch was a holy man, Lord no.
That aside, she’d managed to grab a few wallets and pieces of expensive accessories on the outskirts of Valentine. Mostly by acting like she needed help. She felt a bit guilty when a stranger was particularly nice, but it was a matter of survival. It went smoothly, but if it hadn’t, she could’ve handled it on her own. And even if she couldn’t, her shadow, a couple yards behind her at any given time, made her feel safe.
Arthur Morgan, on his dusty colored Clysdale mare, hand often hovering on his holster. Watching carefully from a distance. He’d had plenty of adrenaline spikes that day, watching her act so well. Maybe she’d do well in plays. He was sure she’d be quite the sight on a stage, perhaps with a musical element, under bright lights and dressed glamorously.
“Alright, I think we should calm it down now. We’ve gotten lucky but who knows how long that’ll last.” The man commented, leading the horse to walk beside her. Y/N chuckled to herself as she tucked a gold pocket watch into her skirt pocket. “Fair point, sir! We’re close to town anyway. What did we need again?” She questioned, tilting her head up toward him. 
Arthur sighed fondly, shaking his head. “You’re the one with the list, sweetheart.” He reminded, looking back down to her. Y/N gazed at him fondly. The brim of his hat left a heavy shadow over his eyes, eyes she found herself dreaming of more often recently. The warm sun radiating over his face, illuminating freckles and smile lines.
“Right, my apologies.” Y/N replied to him, looking for the paper on her person. She wondered if he was aware of how much she liked him. It had to be obvious by now, they had a whole secret language purely for asking for affection. He still asked her for sugar, almost daily. But whatever was between them, it wasn’t labeled. She wondered if it should’ve been, or maybe it would’ve been better to leave it be. It wasn’t like it meant much, putting a word purely to describe the emotions in the air between them. 
That, and she was far too nervous to ask.
“Here you go. You tell me where to go, boss.” Y/N held up the list to him, speaking cheerfully. Arthur smiled at her enthusiasm as he took it from her hand. A short list of errands and what to get. “The gunsmith, general store. Somethin’ bout talkin’ to the ranch hands, I guess to scope out if there’s any money floatin’ around the livestock.” He mumbled. He gave her back the list as they approached a hitching post, hopping off Dusty. He patted the mare’s neck and rounded to give Y/N the spending money. “I’ll deal with the ranch stuff, why don’t you try the gunsmith.” It was more a direction than a question, but she didn’t mind. Though her face did express a bit of hesitation. “He might not sell to me. I’ve had that happen before, cause, well,” She paused and made a gesture to her being. Not nearly as done up as when they first met her, but still rather put together. Flowy skirt in a pastel color, the little bow around her neck, hair properly twisted up. “If he gives you any trouble, I’ll handle it.” Arthur patted her shoulder reassuringly. “Right, I forgot. I have a big scary cowboy on my side, what was I thinkin’?” She teased, giggling as Arthur rolled his eyes with a sigh. She straightened out his shirt collar and patted him on the chest. “Let’s get these errands done, I wanna see if we have time to get some food that Pearson didn’t make.” She stepped around him to start toward the gunsmith.
Arthur paused for a moment, watching her walk away. His had raised to graze over his collar, as if he’d get to feel the phantom sensation of her hands. He scoffed at himself, tilting his hat down in a moment of embarrassment. He was growing soft, and the worst part was, he didn’t exactly hate it. It was different, and it was pleasant. Not that he thought this little…crush, or whatever it was, would be enough to completely change the kind of man he was. Wanting to be a gentleman to a kind young lady wasn’t going to make up for years of murdering and theft. It was those factors that made in wholy certain he wasn’t worthy of getting bashful over her attention anyway.
From the second he saw her, she seemed to be the opposite of him, even if time had shown they had quite a few similarities. Hell, she’d killed a man the second he met her. Yet, he couldn’t compare himself to her. Not when she seemed so soft and graceful. Not fragile, no, that wasn’t fitting at all. She’d proven several times to be quite the independent type, be it when it came to standing up for herself or problem solving on the fly. However, her atmosphere reminded him of so many sensitive things. 
The feeling of a light breeze on feverish skin, the fur of a kitten, the satisfying burn from a fancy whiskey; the kind that went down real smooth. It wasn’t even limited to when she’d actively interact with him either. Sure, he was particularly taken with her compassionate hands squeezing his shoulder reassuringly after the day had worn away at him. Finding some strange solace in her voice when she said his name so warmly, like it brought her joy to say it. But something about her existence as a whole made him feel that way, it was almost frightening.
Whether she came to him in thought or he watched her from afar, it didn’t matter. There was this anemoia with her presence. He’d never had much of a home, sturdy walls and the safety of a roof. But she felt like that, or, he thought so anyway. However a home was described to feel like, that’s what it was. Though he recognized he wouldn’t really know since he had yet to experience it, and he knew he likely never would. 
He’d felt fondness and love for women, and others, before. Some more brief than others. Each time, there was a familiar thread that connected the feeling, so he could recognize it.
This time was truly different though. Why, he wasn’t sure. He’d tried to think about it, weigh it to past experiences. He wasn’t keen on being left in the dark when it came to anything, much less his own feelings. He’d failed though. All that ended up happening last time was he’d zoned out and came back too having drawn her face in his journal. Again.
At the very least, he liked her, a lot. Arthur felt his cheeks burn, no doubt red, much to his dismay. He rubbed his face with both his hands, continuing to walk as he groaned quietly to himself. He wasn’t old per say, but he felt too old to be acting so callow. Like he was a teenager again. Easily flustered and giddy over the smallest things. He shook his head at his foolishness, dropping his arms, but keeping his gaze at the ground. He inhaled, steeling himself, raising his head.
“Hey mister!”
“Oh son of a-“ Arthur turned and was met with the sight of a gun barrel. There was no Irish accent from this man or his companion, though they didn’t sound local either. He sighed as the stranger pulled back the hammer, finger on the trigger. The one aiming the gun was a pale man, dark hair and eyes, clean shaven and probably not much older than himself. His accomplice seemed younger, still carrying some youthful glow in his cheeks that was oddly unmatched by an unkempt beard. Arthur blinked slowly, looking at the gun. He raised his hands, though his face portrayed an aloof expression, perhaps a bit annoyed.
“I ain’t lookin’ for trouble.” Arthur said. “Save it, cowpoke. You speak when spoken to, ya hear?” The gunsman spat. Arthur didn’t hide his face of disgust when he saw some spit leave the man’s lips with the conviction he spoke, thankfully not hitting him. Still gross though.
“I want everythin’ you got, or I shoot you where you stand. Got it?” The stranger demanded. Arthur gritted his teeth. “I ain’t got much to give.” He replied, much to the mugger’s annoyance.
“If you wanna do this the hard way-“ The man and his friend flinched when a woman’s voice broke through the air. Arthur felt his heart sink when he recognized the melodic sound. He looked over his shoulder, as did his adversaries. Sure enough, not too far behind him, the sugary-sweet rabbit he’d rode into town with approached. Her eyes wide with worry, her hands clasped in front of herself. 
“Don’t interfere, woman!” The younger man shouted. “We’re doing some private business here, so move along.” He pulled out his own gun now, clicking the safety off, 
Arthur felt his heart go from his stomach to his throat, blood rushing in quick bursts in his ears. She moved recklessly toward them, in front of him. Blocking him with her arm whilst shouting a protest. Of course, their gun’s aim went to her. That was when she used both hands to cover her stomach, and then pleaded again. 
Arthur was now just as confused as he was anxious. He looked over at her face. He’d seen her fear stricken face before, how her brows furrowed with worry, how her lip trembled when her eyes watered. Her face expressed worry now, but it was different. It dawned on him very suddenly that she’d pulled this kind of thing before when playing a trick. 
She was acting.
“Please, leave him be. Surely there are other people you could steal from!” Y/N pleaded with a whimpering tone. While the younger man didn’t seem to waver, the older of the two seemed to zero in on her defensive stance with her stomach. “We don’t want their money, we want his.” The bearded attacker hissed. “Please, my husband and I are already on hard times as it is. We need to save now more than ever. Just a little mercy, please.” She begged. If it weren’t for him knowing, Arthur would’ve bought the act fully. She really had a talent for it, even if she was using it for thievery. And, well, for saving his skin.
“Lady, what don’t you get?!“ The young man shouted. “Mason, quit!” The elder man sent a swift whack to the back of the other’s head, his gun lowered. Arthur took a step back when feeling Y/N push at him. She gave him a side glance, and it told him enough. He pulled her to him with hands on her shoulders, before wrapping one arm around her torso, turning her to face him. To shield her more.
“Wh- but, you said-“ “We don’t attack expecting mothers, and I ain’t havin’ you widow’er either.”
The act worked, clearly, but Arthur’s quiet demeanor made Y/N feel unnerved. He seemed disturbed in a way, but she couldn’t exactly take a second to ask why. He was playing along, at least, so she kept up her part as the two men holstered their guns. “We’ll be on our way. But I expect you to keep this between us.” Said the leader of the two. “Of course sir, I won’t say a word.” Y/N reassured. With a nod, the man grabbed his accomplice by the back of the vest and dragged him away to their horses. Soon enough, they were far away, and Y/N gave Arthur more space.
She was worried before because of obvious reasons. He’d almost been shot point blank, and that wasn’t great, but he seemed more uncomfortable than she’d expected. He’d had plenty of these situations happen before. She looked him over, his almost detached expression as he adjusted his hat. 
“Arthur?” Her voice spooked him for a moment, but he seemed to click back into reality. “Huh?” He blinked. She clasped her hands together, nervously fidgeting with a small ring she wore, twisting it around her finger. “Are you alright? I’m sorry if I messed something up there, I just didn’t know how else to help without shootin’ them.” Arthur blinked slowly before shaking his head and rubbing his eyes with his hand, letting out a long breath. “No, no. You did great. Just uh, the whole…” He motioned vaguely to her stomach and then around at the air, somewhat aimlessly.
“Oh! Oh, right. I figured that would make them back off. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” Y/N said. He’d started walking down the dirt path, she followed beside him. His mood had shifted rather dramatically. She’d seen him annoyed, stressed, downright angry. This wasn’t any of those, which was what made her so worried. He seemed borderline melancholy, and she didn’t know why, but to think she caused it made her a bit sick. “You’re alright. It’s just, an uh, sensitive subject I s’ppose.” He shrugged, rubbing the back of his neck while looking at the ground.
That felt more confusing to her, honestly. But she kept her mouth shut. It wasn’t her place to ask, she felt. But Arthur glanced up at her, catching curiosity in her concerned face. There was a lump in his throat that almost seemed to suffocate him. There were very few things he opened up about to most people, especially when it came to things that weighed so heavily on him. He didn’t like bringing up his past, not to others and not to himself. His mind was a stubborn thing and it liked to stick on regrets to the point of making him physically ill. Arthur never handled emotions well, so he’d learned to avoid them for the most part. Not for his comfort, but for his survival.
But she looked so worried, and the air around her was so warm. Arthur looked at her face again and felt his shoulders loosen. He inhaled, holding his breath for a moment, before letting it out in one big huff. The silence stretched a bit longer as they slowly meandered down the dirt path, the air a bit tense. Before he finally unclenched his jaw and opened his mouth to speak, without planning what he’d say. And out it spilled.
“I had a son once.” Arthur said plainly. Y/N’s eyes widened and she almost let her mouth fall agape. She held back her surprise though, not wanting to be rude. She stepped a bit closer though, but kept her hands to herself. “I was young, so was the girl. A waitress I met in a town, lovely girl. I was…reckless, selfish. I knew I didn’t want to stay committed to her but I got’er pregnant.” He explained. He kept his gaze down, whether it was because he was ashamed at the past or that he was admitting sensitive things, she didn’t question. Just listened.
“I wanted to do right by’em. Or, maybe I told myself that to make myself feel less guilty.” He shrugged. “I didn’t stick around, but I didn’t completely leave either. I’d come around when I could to help. Felt it was the least I could do, support’em. I helped make the boy, ya know?” The question was rhetorical but she nodded to show she was listening. This felt so intense and heavy, and she had the distinct feeling the story wasn’t a happy one.
Arthur ran a hand down his face and looked up at the sky before continuing. “At one point, I considered sticking around a little more permanently. Not get hitched to her or nothin’, she deserved better than me, obviously. But Dutch wanted to move further West and I couldn’t take them with me.” He cracked his jaw, clenched his teeth. His nose scrunched up. “Go on, son. Pick what life you want. You can settle down, go soft, force yourself to be a father. Or, you can come with the family who accepted you. Be my guest. That’s what Dutch said to me.” He huffed.
“That’s a terrible thing to say in that situation!” Y/N suddenly spoke, outraged at the callousness. Arthur found himself smiling faintly at her rage. It felt cathartic to have someone on his side, even if it was far too late. “Yeah, never quite got over that. But…I was barely twenty, and, I didn’t know what to do. Dutch raised me and I wasn’t exactly sure how to be a good man.” He grew sad so quickly again. He hit his left palm with his right fist a few times, a nervous tick she’d noticed he had. He seemed to have a lot of them, actually.
“I left, for a long time this time. I didn’t forget ‘bout’em. Though, I remember telling myself they’d be better off without me anyway. To make it easier on myself, as if I deserved that.” He whispered the last part while looking down at his feet. Y/N’s hand reached over to squeeze his shoulder reassuringly. They both came to a stop at a bench in front of the post office, the area barely populated and the sun on its way to set. She subtly guided him to sit down, still listening intently.
Arthur bounced his leg, leaning back to rest against the wall. He swallowed. “Well uh, I came back one day. The place was empty, but the backyard had uhm…two crosses.” His voice grew a bit hoarse. Y/N’s heart broke as she watched him force his face to stay as cold as possible, eyes facing the sky, as if trying to escape into it. “Oh Arthur…” She said in a hushed tone. He rolled the joint of his jaw again, biting his tongue. It weighed so heavily on him and it showed, that was precisely why he didn’t talk about it. 
He looked over when he felt Y/N’s hand gently grab his forearm, caressing the skin with her thumb. Her gaze made his muscles loosen, and while the ache of guilt and regret was heavy on his chest, he found himself able to breathe still. It wasn’t suffocating. 
“I couldn’t possibly understand what that’s like.” She let her hand fall back into her lap, not realizing how much he ached for the contact once it was gone. She looked around and searched her brain for what to say. It was something so heavy, so she wanted to treat it seriously. Though, she also knew a heavy atmosphere made Arthur itch to run away. He wasn’t a coward, but he wasn’t fond of the feeling. She patted her lap a bit awkwardly. “I mean, the closest thing I guess I could think of was realizing I lost my brother. But, he’s alive, not- I dunno, why am I even trying to relate? I just,” She awkwardly stammered. “I want you to know I hear you, so I’m trying to relate, but I- I can’t. And I shouldn’t be trying, I’m sorry.” She cringed.
Arthur let out a breathy laugh. “I get it. Thank you.” He reassured, watching her deflate in relief. She handled it clumsily, but the sentiment reached him all the same. She rubbed her hands together, still feeling timid about approaching the topic. She wanted to comfort him, ease the pain, but this kind of situation wasn’t something she could fix with a “good job” and a hug. The woman squeezed her hands together before looking him over, hoping her sympathy conveyed in her face. “I thought of something to say, but I don’t know if it’ll actually help as I intend for it too.” She admitted.
Arthur raised his hand in an encouraging motion. “No, go ‘head. I wanna hear what you have to say.” He nodded. She bit down on the inside of her cheek, inhaling slowly. 
“I think…I think you would be a great father, all things considered.” She whispered. It was genuine, truly. She believed it fully too, and she could only pray it came across. Maybe back then he was young and reckless, but she could see how well he’d do now. From the way he handled the gang, how he talked to Jack like the boy was his own, a leader and while he could be stubborn and gruff, he had the softness important for child development. He felt like a family man, a good one. She’d told him that before, but she wanted to make sure it stuck. 
Arthur rubbed his palms on the fabric of his pants as the words hit him in the chest. He clicked his tongue, allowing himself to smile slightly. “I ‘ppreciate that.” He replied softly. Y/N reached over and squeezed his arm again, smiling at him with so much kindness, it lessened the load of the world again. “I appreciate you trusted me enough to tell me, I don’t imagine it's easy to share.” Her words made him nod again. “It ain’t, and I usually don’t. But you…” He admired her face again. “You’re easy to talk to, I guess.” The woman lit up at that. She’d always enjoyed being told she was nice to be around, that her efforts to make those who cared comfortable to be vulnerable around her worked. It was rare she got an outright confirmation that it was working, it made her feel warm and fuzzy.
Arthur rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, well, the feeling is mutual.” She chimed in, making him look up, brow raised and prompting her to elaborate. “I mean it! I know I might seem naive sometimes, but I’m quite the good judge of character. And you,” She nudged him with her arm playfully. “You’re a good man. I think I’ve explained why before.” He chuckled at that, feeling blood rush to his face as he recalled the night at the hotel. It was a completely innocent night, but a powerful one, which he’d found himself thinking back to it often. Though, saying he wished to feel her dainty hands running over his skin again didn’t sound like something a gentleman would say, even if it was true. 
Arthur shook his head but he was smiling regardless. “I have a feeling you won’t let me argue.” He said, and she gave a confirmative hum. “I’ve met plenty of people in this world, and plenty that superficially act like you. But what makes you different is you feel, well, safe.” She explained. She’d felt awkward before, but saying this, she felt no shame. It was the truth and she wanted him to know it. She appreciated the shades of blue in his eyes in the warm sunlight as she spoke, truly adoring the little details she noticed. Every freckle and line in his skin. “Safe? Me?” Arthur challenged genially. “Yes sir, you. There aren’t many men in this world that have the feeling you do. Like…like walking into a blanket warmed by a fire, after a long walk in the cold.”
The outlaw scoffed and looked away, his elbow resting on his knee, hiding the lower half of his face in his hand. “I mean it!” She insisted, resting her hand on his shoulder. Had her hand drifted upward, just slightly, she’d be able to feel the speed of his pulse in his neck. Rapid and stuttered. Desperate to compose himself, he looked for a way to change the subject, lest he say something he’d regret or melt into the ground beneath him. “Well, I told you about me.” He sat up straight again, clearing his throat as he looked her in the eye again. “Care to share your own? You mentioned your brother. Wouldn’t mind lendin’ an ear, if you’re willin’ to share.” He said. 
Y/N’s mood shifted a bit, and Arthur regretted his attempt at removing the attention from himself, until she prepared herself to speak. “It’s nothing like what you went through, he isn’t dead or anything, just…different.” She explained. Picking at her nails for a moment, she recalled her past. Her father was a mean man, that wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard. But he wasn’t the only member of her family, just the head of it. Her mother was sweet, though, the woman seemed to favor the baby boy she’d given birth to over her daughter. That was a fact Y/N sometimes recalled with bitterness but considered herself mostly healed from. Her cousin came to stay with them later on in life, he wasn’t great from the start, but she didn’t exactly consider him family regardless. Even if others around her went to calling him her brother pretty quickly. But her brother, that always stung a bit more.
“Walter, my younger brother, used to be the sweetest boy. After he was born, my mother got sick, so she couldn’t really care for either of us properly. My father was no good at it, speaking from experience, so I tried to step up.” Y/N explained, shifting her position on the bench for more comfort. “It wasn’t easy, but, after my mother got better I didn’t want to just leave him to the two of them. I liked caring for him, and even though he was a baby, it felt like he actually appreciated what I did.” She laughed at the sentiment. It sounded far more pathetic out loud, seeking validation from the innocent clinginess of a baby. “From the start, he wouldn’t let go of me. Swore up and down I was his favorite person, the best sister to ever live! I held onto that a lot. Especially when he started having a voice of his own, he used to defend me from my father a lot. I know that wasn’t easy. A young man trying to get his father to respect a lady, his rebellious daughter no less.”
Y/N paused as she recalled the various instances of this. How conflicted it’d make her feel, watching the boy she practically raised have to defend her to their actual parents. He did it so valiantly too, even when it caused more grief for himself. Things she wanted to keep him from. Being a punching bag didn’t bother her as much as seeing her brother’s young face contorted in distress and anger. However, being defended after so long felt nice too. It brought a sense of guilt with the comfort, to know someone cared enough to stand up for her against at the expense of themselves, but that last part was what made her sick. 
She sighed. “Then, I guess as he got older, my father’s influence seemed more appealing. I mean, my father was a greedy man, but a successful one. Even if most of his earnings came from me.” Arthur watched as the air around her grew somber, and he felt a stabbing in his chest as her mouth formed a frown. For someone with a smile so sugary sweet, her frown put an acrid, bitter taste in the back of his mouth. “He started agreeing with my father more, pulling away from me. I practically raised the boy but as time went on, he seemed like a stranger. I held onto hope that maybe something would break, that he’d go back to how he was.” She shook her head. “Then one day, my father was goin’ on about how ungrateful I was. How I’d be sorry when he finally gave me away. My brother, fifteen then, came in after hearing the shouting.” She leaned back, staring into the ground with a solemn expression.
“For once, I looked and asked him to help. I had never done it before, but, I was so tired. I wanted someone in my corner and I thought, maybe if he saw how much it was hurting me, he would defend me again.” Y/N raised her hand to her hair, fussing with it a bit, something she did when she wanted to soothe herself. Arthur had seen her do it when arguments broke out between people in the gang or when Miss Grimshaw scolded her amongst all the girls for “lazing” about. “Then he said; “He’s right. And you should learn that by now.” And it hit me like a train, full force.” She let out a bitter, scoff-like laugh. It was devoid of any joy, and Arthur felt his heart break when she blinked back some water in her eyes. “He wasn’t the boy I raised. And I knew that the hope I’d ever see that little boy again was gone. Really sealed that when he did nothing but nod when my father told me he’d finally sold me off.” 
Y/N shook out her hands and pressed her middle finger to the corners of her eyes, sniffling. “Sorry, I went and made this ‘bout me. I didn’t mean to be so selfish.” She apologized. Arthur shook his head and placed a large hand on her back. She exhaled at the light pressure and the pleasant warmth that bled through her clothes. “Don’t apologize. I asked, and it seemed like you’ve been hopin’ someone would listen.” He replied. She hummed, squeezing her hands together. He noted how much closer she was now, practically tucked into his side, and it gave him a sense of solace. “It’s nothing compared to what you’ve been through.” She downplayed, and he let out a noise to cut her off. “That don’t mean nothin’. It’s still hard on you, clearly. Don’t go actin’ like my pain mean you can’t have your own.” 
Y/N fought off the urge to swoon under his caring eyes. It didn’t work very well. “Right, thank you, Arthur.” Her voice brought back that warm feeling in his chest, like he’d taken a swig of whiskey. She huffed and patted her lap. “Alright, ya know what, this day has gone sideways.” She stood up suddenly, full of energy as she pivoted to face him, her face bright and cheery once again. The sky behind her had begun to turn pink, the yellows & oranges illuminated her like a halo. “But, we still got time. I say we go enjoy ourselves with the time. I hear the saloon’s got a new dish they’re tryin’ out, and I think you’ve more than earned a whiskey, good sir.” She held out her hand, the other behind her back, standing straight and proud.
Arthur found himself grinning. He reached his hand out, following her guidance to stand up, even if she couldn’t have pulled him if he didn’t allow it. “What happened to those errands?” He questioned teasingly. “We say we ran into some trouble and try again tomorrow, obviously.” Y/N pulled him along, wrapping both her hands around his own to encourage him faster. “C’mon! I’ll pay!” She cheered.
44 notes · View notes