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puppetmaster13u · 3 months

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Prompt 185

No one could get into contact with Constantine.

Now usually that wasn’t that big of a deal, the man constantly disappeared for a few days at a time doing something or other, but he’d been completely silent and unseen for months. Usually he’ll at least answer a call to tell them to fuck off or something.

And they really need his expertise and are getting incredibly worried for their grumpy team member. Yes he’s an asshole, but he’s their asshole, y’know? And he has a habit of getting into Situations (sure he also usually gets out of them, but what if he didn’t this time?!)

So they’re desperate. Kind of really desperate. Desperate enough to use the summoning sigil they found on his fridge. They’d checked it, multiple times, and it should summon the hellblazer.

“You’re not Constantine.” .

The white-haired teen in the circle yawned, stretching and blinking at them blandly with familiar blue eyes before sighing. “Actually I am,” he stuffed his hands into his hoodie as he looked down at the summoning circle. “Well, technically just one of the many Laughing Magicians currently in the Realms.”

He gave a grin, looking more amused than annoyed. “Pretty much every one of us is in the Realms right now for family reunion lol. (Did he just say lol out loud??) So like, you’re gonna have to specify which of us you’re tryin’ to summon. Honestly perfect timing for me thanks, the fruitloop keeps flirting with John and it’s horrific so.”

… That was probably their John, wasn’t it…

#dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #The Constantine Family exists for fucking over entities & manipulating luck #They adore this scrappy halfa who is doing the same with twice the feral #Danny: Yeah I’m like the changeling child that ended up in the middle of them and they just kept me for the laughs lol #Danny: I’m not allowed to join in the drinking competitions #Danny: Oh no it’s not a responsibility thing; alcohol doesn’t affect me and they say it’s cheating #Why Yes Vlad IS flirting with their Constantine #He’s started his redemption but let’s be honest he’s also a con-man & John is all for fucking over the rich #Danny is disgusted at how well they’re getting along and wanted to get away from their flirting while everyone else ribbed at em #Hence why when they all felt the summoning he decided to go #Well that and also for the laughs because he’s learning magic Undead Constantine style #”Fuckin 'ell yeah the family 'as a necromancer in 'he line again look a' 'im go!” (Lots of ghost & living people drunken cheering)#Danny only half fucking with people: Yeah I’m like their collective undead fae child lmao #danny fenton #john constantine

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ash-and-starlight · 1 year

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what if we eloped in the earth kingdom 👉🏼👈🏼 and we were both girls 🫣😳

for mailee week day 2 // post canon

((heavily inspired by Uemura Shōen’s whispering beauties <333))

[ID: a colored digital drawing of Mai and Ty Lee. they’re drawn from the thigh-up, standing. Ty Lee is behind Mai and leaning close to her, tucking a white magnolia flower behind her ear. Mai’s head is slightly turned, and she’s looking softly back at Ty Lee. they’re both wearing kimonos in tones of green. the drawing is colored to resemble ukyo-e prints]

#also important but not pictured: ty lee is on her tiptoes bc mai is tall af #realized Now it could fit in the hair prompt as well….#what can i say hair is mailee intricate gay ritual #also yes i have. a thing. for gay ppl eloping in the ek look away #ESPECIALLY mailee they deserve a redemption arc AND a gay love arc in kyoshi island #mai #ty lee #my art #maileeweek2023 #oh ALSOOOOOO lesbian companion to the prince & the fool art lmao #ariana grande equality dot gif

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twola · 3 months

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i know arthur is a giver but sometimes i think he’d like being cruel. i have this image of him leaned back in a chair taking a drag out of his cigarette with reader writhing on his lap with tears in her eyes practically begging for him to do anything to her while he watches with feign indifference

Hooo boy. Okay, this is my first shot at a true low honor Arthur.

Lookin' for Trouble

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

The afternoon light was more than enough for you to finally get to reading after getting Grimshaw’s list of chores done. Finally, you’d be able to crack open this book that Hosea lent you all those weeks ago.

All of a sudden, the light is obscured over the pages of your book, and when you look up, you place a hand over your eyes to see the mountain of a man before you, peering down at you with a cigarette hanging off his lips.

“Oh, Arthur, I didn’t realize you’d be back so quick.” You smile up to him, closing the book and moving to your knees to stand up.

An outstretched hand juts into your view, “Ain’t nothin’ interesting in that backwater town.”

You take it and allow him to pull you up, but you frown up at him and don’t let go, turning both of your hands so that his knuckles face the two of you. The skin is broken and oozing a small amount of blood.

“Oh dear, let me clean that up for you in your tent.”

You drop his hand and he follows, smoking that cigarette without a reply. On its head, it must be a funny sight, the grizzled outlaw following your small frame back to his tent so dutifully.

He pulls the canvas down after the two of you enter the tent, tall enough being built off his wagon. The perks of being the enforcer of the group. You make yourself busy looking in the chest at the foot of his cot for some alcohol as you pull a handkerchief from the pocket of your skirt.

Arthur sits down on the edge of the cot, taking that old black hat from his head and dropping it atop the pillow that had seen better days.

“Here we go,” you dab your handkerchief with a bottle of god-knows-what and move back toward where Arthur sits.

He places the still-lit cigarette in the little glass tray at his bedside, the end of it continuing to smolder as he blows smoke toward the top of the tent, away from you.

You frown, twisting your head to change your view of his outstretched knuckles. “It’s an awkward angle, I-”

He cuts you off by making you yelp as his free hand shoots around your hip and pulls you down, your rear colliding with his firm thigh, his hand on your hip balancing you as you regain your composure.

“Oh… thanks…” you blush slightly, having been caught off guard. You return to dabbing at the broken skin of his knuckles, his large hand outstretched and dwarfing yours, as you perch upon his thigh, your back flush to his barrel chest.

“How did this happen?” You ask softly as you pick at the dirt in his inflamed, broken skin.

“Y’know, a bit of this, bit of that.”

You sigh, “I really hope you ain't out pickin’ fights, Arthur.”

Arthur hums dismissively in response, jostling you slightly on his thigh. He props the cigarette between his teeth and his free hand moves forward and begins bunching your skirts up, the hem of your dress being pulled higher and higher.

“Arthur-” You go to scold, but his searching hand gravitates right over where he’s looking for, pressing against your cunt through your bloomers. You give another yelp as his finger digs at the cotton, prodding and stroking and petting.

“A-Arthur, I’m tryin’ to-”

As you go to grip his forearm with both hands, his injured hand darts downward, grasping both of your wrists and holding them away from your body, essentially binding you and leaving you unable to stop his ministrations.

A low, satisfied noise rumbles out through his chest as you pant, his fingers edging the leg of your bloomers open and touching your bare skin. Just barely touching, teasing, as you squirm in his lap, his hold on your wrists as strong as iron.

You honest-to-god whine, tears welling behind your eyes as you squirm in his lap, trying to break free of his hold on your hands, trying to jut your hips into his hand more.

“A-Arthur- god, please-” you gasp aloud, squeezing your eyes shut tightly as you beg. He removes his hand entirely and you nearly sob at the loss.

Cracking your eyes open, you see him pull the cigarette from his mouth and place it in that glass tray, mashing the butt into the ash as he puts it out. He bounces his thigh as his hand returns to your cunt, chuckling darkly as you continue to squirm.

“Ain’t you just the prettiest little thing when you’re all needy like this?”

A fresh set of tears burst from your eyes as his hand snakes into your bloomers again to rub at you.

“P-please-”

“Please what, what d’ya need darlin’?”

He cups your cunt fully and helps you roll your hips over his thigh bone, and it’s all you can do not to sob loudly at the frustration.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

“Arthur please, please god, please touch me.”

“I am touchin’ ya’.” He responds, pleased with himself as you struggle against his grip, iron-like in its strength.

“In-inside-” you pant, continuing to squirm against him.

“Hmm, like this?”

You are able to bite back the scream you nearly let out as Arthur slides his trigger finger into your dripping cunt. He curls it with a practiced precision, and you buck in his lap, throwing your head back against the curve of his shoulder. Your temple brushes against his days-old beard before he leans in against you.

“There’s my girl,” he nips at your earlobe with haughty pride, fully taking satisfaction with the way you writhe atop him, “Makin’ them noises like a whore.”

There’s no snapping back at him, no retort back at his dry, teasing humor. You are able to do nothing but give a breathy sigh, almost agreeing with his statement.

Arthur grabs your hips and hoists you up to stand, quickly following and pushing you two stumbling steps to the table where a few of his guns are spread out. One sweep of his arm and the guns clatter into the grass before you're abruptly bent at the waist and spread out on the table.

“Arthur-”

One of his large hands splays across your lower back as he fiddles with the buttons of his pants. Essentially keeping you pinned down on the table, you have no option but to lay there and take whatever he is going to give you.

Arthur pulls your skirts up, tossing them over your hips before yanking your bloomers down and over the swell of your ass. His hand is between your legs quicker than you can sputter in indignation, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as he strokes his thick fingers in and out of your wetness. Your eyes tightly shut as you breathe out your nose, and for a moment, you’re empty as he pulls away.

The hot, blunt head of his cock prods your entrance before he pushes himself inside you, in one strong thrust. Your fingers clamp on the edge of the table as you clench your teeth at the intrusion, fluttering on the edge of pain as his thick cock stretches you. It’s always like this, he’s not much of a gentle man.

“Tha’s it, what a good girl you are, takin’ everything I give ya.” Arthur drawls as he begins to buck his hips forward into yours, unflinchingly setting a rough, fast pace.

You’re unable to last after all the stimulation before, and it’s not long into the slamming of him into you that you begin to get that feeling that your release was imminent.

“A-Arthur-” you gasp out as you reel toward completion, the table squealing beneath you as he rocks his hips into yours faster, harder - punishing - all six foot of him hunches over you as he fucks you into a wet, messy orgasm, you pressing your forehead into the table as you clench around him.

He grunts, jerking his hips backward as his hands clamp harshly around your hips, squeezing so hard you’re sure there will be bruises in the morning. You feel the hot splatter of his spend on your rear as he lets out a long breath through his nose, trying himself to be quiet within the confines of the tent.

You pant, still bent over the small table, your skirts flipped over your hips as your knees shake. You hear Arthur fiddle with his pants before returning to you, his hands grasping at your thighs greedily before pulling at your skirts to right them.

He swats, albeit gently, at your rear before your skin disappears under your skirts.

“You gonna let me finish cleaning you up?” You ask, leaning over slightly to pick up your discarded bloomers from the ground, tucking them into your pocket.

Arthur sits back on his cot, his pants still unbuttoned and open unapologetically, as a sly smile creeps across his face.

“If yer really gonna clean me up, I think there’s a lot less clothing involved.”

#arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption #red dead fanfic #twolafic #arthur morgan smut #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #red dead smut #twola1k #prompt request

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whump-in-the-closet · 4 months

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characters who have to redeem themselves. Except “redemption” isn’t what they expected. They begged for forgiveness and now their every action is monitored. They have to let everyone know that they messed up— they can’t go anywhere without the whispers and dark stares following them.

Once proud, they now walk with head bowed and never never make eye contact. They’ve leaned that much. They have scars where everyone can see, purposefully placed there as a reminder of what happens when they mess up. It doesn’t matter how much they swear they’ve changed, the blows come all the same. Casual now— just backhanded slaps and grabbing and quick orders to shut up—

they’ve learned their lesson. They don’t want redemption.

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #whump prompt #whump community #whump ideas #whump prompts #whump scenario #whumpee tuned whumper #heehoo #enjoy #corruption arc #rather than redemption

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rookthebird · 7 months

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thinking about redeemed villains who can't cope with how much suffering they caused in their past.

redeemed villains who only allow themselves the bare minimum for survival- plain gruel, a blanket when they sleep on the floor, tattered old clothes- because they don't feel like they deserve anything nicer.

redeemed villains who lie awake at night with every horrible thing they've ever done running through their mind.

redeemed villains who take dangerous risks on behalf of the heroes because they don't feel like they deserve to live.

#whump #whump prompts #whumpblr #writing prompt #writing trauma #villain and hero #creative writing #writeblr #villain x hero #redemption arc

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arthursfuckinghat · 1 month

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Nothing is quite like enjoying the early days of chapter three, then hearing Arthur's first cough to snap you right back to the reality of his fate

#my heart dropped #that first actual cough #not prompted by dust or any other usual thing #it echoes in my brain #and its in a cutscene with dutch #oh man #this game #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #mick squeaks #arthur morgan #red dead redemption 2 spoilers

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hidedino · 2 months

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my dissection of q!fit and q!pac's love languages how they lead to q!fit's insecurities.

pac's love language is gift giving. we could've observed this since the day of their first unofficial date when he'd given a rose to fit, albeit the whole idea was prompted by richas. but as their relationship had progressed, pac started showing this tendency more by himself. he kept confirming to fit that he was free to come and take anything from his storage system and also seemed happier than ever when fit had given him the wand he'd accidentally broken or the trident he didn't own until that point. even during the days leading up to the the confession pac was clearly very excited about fit giving him his leftover egg quest cookies and food on multiple occasions. and of course, there was the prison when pac kept giving fit roses or food items whenever he saw him. pac loves showing people how much he loves them by giving them items which he carefully chooses. he also feels overjoyed whenever he receives anything from fit, no matter what its value is because to him those gifts are the biggest affirmation of fit's love for him. and this is where fit's problem arrises.

fit's love language are positive affirmations. of course, he always gives a lot of support to all his friends, but even more so to pac. you can watch segments of compilations which are just 10 clips of fit shouting out every possible compliment at pac during a fight. he always throws in some whenever he hears pac self-deprecating himself or whenever he gets a chance to.

and then pac throws compliments back at him and suddenly he panics and laughts it off. because fit isn't used to receiving any positive affirmations and it pulls out his instincts of guarding himself from vulnerabilities. he becomes embarrassed and shy and turns them back at pac instead of accepting them.

so why does it seem like fit spends so much time by gathering and putting thought into every gift for pac when that isn't even his main love language? insecurities.

because he loves pac more than he loves himself. so he feeds into pac's love language like the amazing partner he is, but doesn't allow himself to let pac do the same.

one thing that had really struck me yesterday was how fit had mentioned he felt bad for not having given pac better gifts than pac got for him. he sees himself unworthy of pac's love because he feels like he can't prove to both himself and pac that he's good enough for him. he's unable to admit to himself that he doesn't need to compete for pac's love and that anything he does for pac only serves to make pac fall further in love with him.

so yes, sure, pac himself is quite insecure and fit is a great match for him in this regard as he naturally seeks to give him unprompted reassurance. but are we talking enough about fit's facade and how his emotional repression is still affecting him?

#this was all prompted by that clip from yesterday i mention at the end #also this is my redemption after having said that fit's love language is gift giving #because it's not #i hope this makes sense #fitpac #hideduo #qsmp hideduo #qsmp #dino.thoughts #qsmp fitpac #qsmp fit #qsmp pac

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seaside-writings · 6 days

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I hope this prompt list brings you inspiration wherever it is needed, and like always if you do use these prompts please tag me so I can see what you’ve made!

I hope you all stay blessed and safe throughout your day.

Lots of Love & Wishes: Celia 💙🎵

🎵 “I thought I saw the devil this morning… Looking in the mirror, drop of rum on my tongue,” 🎵 “But the blood on my hands scares me to death,” 🎵 “I never meant to start a fire,” 🎵 “My past has tasted bitter for years now," 🎵 “Grace is just weakness or so I've been told,” 🎵 “I'll be good, I'll be good,” 🎵 “For all of the things that I've done all these years,” 🎵 “I've been cold, I've been merciless,” 🎵 “I'll be good, and I'll love the world like I should,” 🎵 “With the warning to help me see myself clearer.” 🎵 “For all of the bruises I've caused in the tears,” 🎵 “For all of the light that I shut out,” 🎵 “So I wield an iron fist,” 🎵 “I'll be a better man today,” 🎵 “For all the sparks that I stomped out,” 🎵 “For all of the innocent things that I doubt,” 🎵 “For all of the perfect things that I doubt,” 🎵 “I never meant to make you bleed,” 🎵 “I'll be good for all of the times, I never could,”

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bebx · 11 months

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eyesthecolorofarson · 3 months

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Lower Lifeforms

Someone has broken into The Batcave. They don’t know how, but suddenly two lifeforms were detected in the middle of the Batmobiles runway. Lifeforms, Tim noted, not humans. They all rushed into the cave, and were met with two Damian’s.

They could tell who their Damian was by the Robin costume so not a shapeshifter, but he was wearing a black suit with white gloves, boots and cape with a pulled down hood. His hair took the form of a flame, and his eyes were glowing red. Despite this his facial features were identical to Damian’s, even the scowl directed at them looked to be pulled right off of Damian’s face.

He heard Jason shout and turned to see a girl, also identical to Damian and more so with the other one, fighting Jason and Dick at the same time. She was wearing a suit similar to the other, just the top was cropped and half was white and the other half black. Tim joined the fray, but they were quickly defeated. Ice was wrapped around their arms and legs, and Damian was already iced to the floor. The girl whooped and jumped over them playfully.

“Great,” he heard Jason mutter, “more demon brats.” The girl paused and turned, as did the boy. They tilted their heads in sync, the boy looking far more annoyed and the girl amused. “‘Demon brat’,” she repeated thoughtfully, “Is that a new slur humans are callin us?” The boy scoffed so much like Damian and walked towards the Batcomputer. “Wouldn’t surprise me.” He turned towards them and glared.

“It’s just as uncreative as the other ones.” He turned back to the Batcomputer and started typing. Ok, Tim thought, let’s recap. There were two kids who looked identical to Damian in the Batcave. These kids were a different species that had interacted with humans before, and all these interactions had been bad enough and gone on long enough that there were human slurs for their species. These Damian-lookalikes wanted information on all the meta laws and extraterrestrial species laws in place on earth, from what he could see the boy looking up on the Batcomputer.

“It’s not! Really it’s not! It’s just that—“ Dick didn’t get to continue. The ice around his arms extended to cover his mouth, stopping just below his nose. The same happened to them. “Hey!” The girl whined, “I wanted to hear what he’d say!” The boy scoffed. “Humans don’t have anything good to say about us, so I don’t understand why you always want to hear them talk.” The girl huffed and went to the boys side.

“It’s history! We can put it in the books ‘humans called us this for this reason, and it meant this’,” she mimed reading from a book, and the boy huffed. “We already know why they call us names. It’s not any important as the other ones.” It was silent as he typed quickly, and more information came up. Earths relationship with the Martians, the Tamaraneans, Kryptonions, magic users and ultraterrestrials. So they were from off planet.

“What if they’re nice?” The girl asked, and the boy sighed. “Have you ever met a nice human?” The girl answered no. “Have you ever heard of a nice human?” The girl thought, then answered no. “Has any human even pretended to be nice to you?” The girl answered no again. “Humans aren’t capable of being what we know as ‘nice’ or ‘kind’; kindness is a form of higher cognitive ability and empathy, something human brains haven’t developed over the hundreds of years they’ve had the chances to. What they instead developed is a higher level of aggression.”

The boy touched screen, and the Batcomputer glitched as something green spread into the boys hand. He pulled his hand away, and turned towards them. The ice around their mouths and Damian melted away, leaving no water behind. “What are you?” Damian hissed, and was easily knocked to the ground. “If you hate us so much, why not kill us?” The boys scoffed and leaned in close.

“Because we are better than you. The only thing humans see as an answer is war, is blood and death. We’re capable of more than the senseless violence you’ve built your societies on.” He stood smoothly and walked down the way they’d appeared. “Da⃠nella,” he called, “let’s go.” Da⃠nella waved and the rest of the ice melted, and they scrambled to follow.

The last they saw of Da⃠nella and the boy they were walking into a bright green portal.

#dan phantom redemption #dp x dc prompt #batfamily #dp x dc crossover #dan phantom #danielle phantom #Ghost are different species au #Ultraterrestrials au #If you want to continue this please do!

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puppetmaster13u · 6 months

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Prompt 47

Hear me out. Amity Park gets shifted in universes slightly- maybe it’s from Pariah, maybe it was a wish, maybe they did so on purpose to escape something- and they end up in the DC-verse. The thing is, thanks to the media blackout and the shields, no one in the new universe notices. The Amityville Paekers know about outside, can go on the internet and leave whenever they want, but they’ve all become more than a little liminal. More than a little off. Movements too graceful, eyes too sharp, ears too pointed and teeth more akin to predatory fangs. Skin with a soft glow, hair moving as though underwater or being tussled by the wind- bodies seemingly unaging after a certain point. They’re so ecto-contaminated that they’re unsure they can even be counted as human anymore, and it wasn’t like the city wasn’t already practically self sufficient. Add in a portal or two through the Infinite Realms to get supplies to start a few fields or some fish farms and well, they’re pretty good. Sure it’s resulted in them using a mixture of modern and older money and having several extinct plants and animals running around but that’s fine. There’s magic in this world! Actual magic, that they can learn! And use? Oh this makes rebuilding after a sparring incident go so much faster!

This results in the hero who stumbles across this place to believe they’ve stumbled across some sort of city of fae or elves.

#Vlad gets a redemption arc through being properly socialized #dcxdp #dpxdc #prompts #fae amity au #honestly might have been the outlaws or some speedsters who stumbled across the city #Let's be real Ellie goes out and ends up stealing away clones sometimes too #You can tell who is more liminal by how animated their hair is or if it has white in it #No longer is white hair a sign of age but now ecto-contamination #Usually activated upon death but most end up like revived instantly #the shields made it where the ecto from the portal couldn't leave so it flooded the inside #resulting in everyone getting blasted by ecto 24/7 for several years until they adapted & started producing it on their own

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tanglepelt · 11 months

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Dc x dp idea 60

Vlad is the one who gets Danny help.

He has a realization that he became so fixated on Maddie he lost sight on everything else. Maybe he find Maddie and Jack experimenting on a ghost, maybe a plot to capture and cut open phantom. Something makes him see the light.

Regardless of what he is the one who realizes how dangerous Danny’s home life is. How at risk he is.

So vlad leaves an anonymous tip on the justice league helpline regarding a portal into a different dimension. The location fentonWorks in amity park Illinois.

It would be even better if amity had an info block out so it just didn’t exist online. Maybe when they respond either the GIW have phantom and are ready/doing experiments.

#danny phantom #danny fenton #dp x dc #dc x dp #dp dc crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #justice league #vlad master redemption #Vlad deserves a chance #he realizes he cares more about Danny. one of the only other halfas then his live life #maybe he tries to make amends with Dani #pay child support #or something #he wants to do better. the first step is getting Danny out #vlad isn’t even going to petition for custody unless Danny consents #he wants to not force it anymore #but an actual acceptance.#John could show up and be like yup #they opened a portal to the infinite realm #the literal afterlife then have a freak out #unlike angst. so Danny has been caught by that point #they have to rescue him from someone. like let him be injured #let him not trust them #maybe he flees to the ghost zone #vlad is the one who gets him to see it’s safe #let the adults handle the problems #deal with the mad scientist and quack jobs.#Danny can ba a scared kid. one who doesn’t trust anymore #maybe in the end. vlad final gets what he wanted. Danny Jazz and Dani

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twola · 5 months

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idk if this is too vague, but arthur/f!reader in the classic trope of, oh my god I can't believe we both almost just died sex? did they both almost drown? Was there a fire? did he save her life? who knows! i feel like arthur would sees the woman he loves almost die and immediately fuck about it

Okay this has been in my asks for WAY too long and it’s such a good one and I wanted to do it justice.

Left Unsaid

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link

When he think's he's almost lost you in a run-in with a rival gang, Arthur quickly gets over his nervousness in approaching you.

The bloodcurdling scream jolts him from sleep, making him stumble up from where he was sitting on a rickety chair in the main room of the old cabin. At first, he thinks it's a dream, but when the sound of breaking glass pierces the night, Arthur shoots up; the chair falling to the ground in a clatter as he quickly shakes the vestiges of sleep from his mind.

This abandoned cabin off of Eris Field seemed the perfect place to spend the night instead of making the trek all the way back to Shady Belle tonight - your yawning from behind him on his horse had him chuckling as he made the decision to stay - doing the gentlemanly thing and giving you the bedroom with the old single bed. As much as he’d like to be sharing it with you - he remained externally aloof - proclaiming that he’d sleep on the chair in the main room. He certainly did not dare to ask to share your bed - not now, probably not ever.

But the rustling and thumping behind the door where you sleep has his heart racing - his hand flies to his revolver as he readies himself to throw his shoulder into the door and shoot whatever it is that is making that noise, but the door bursts open before he gets the chance.

A man stands on the threshold - dirty, and grimy, with a faded gray woolen military uniform and a yellow bandana around his neck.

Of course, goddamn Lemoyne Raiders.

The raider holds up his knife in front of him, and in the din of movement and chaos around them, Arthur can see the liquid sheen over the steel in the man’s hand.

The knife, dripping with blood. The man, seemingly unharmed. The door, slightly ajar, to the bedroom where you slept.

A cold stone settles in Arthur’s gut as he puts the pieces together. In an instant, he snarls, diving toward the man with little regard for his own person, tackling him to the ground and ready to rip him apart with his bare hands for what he’s done to you. As Arthur mounts himself on the man’s chest and begins to strangle him, the movement knocks the oil lantern off the table, crashing to the wooden floor and immediately bursting into flame.

The man’s neck snaps between Arthur’s hands and he immediately leaps up, moving toward the bedroom where you were sleeping.

Another body crashes into him, a Lemoyne Raider dressed like he is straight out of a Civil War battle tackles Arthur to the ground, the two of them tumbling along the floor and breaking through the rickety door to the porch. Arthur rolls backward, unsheathing his hunting knife as he grits his teeth, ready to slice this damn bastard into shreds.

Of course, the wannabe soldier is no match for the hardened outlaw. They sure as hell don’t make them like they used to. Arthur easily dodges a swing of the man’s fist and throws his weight forward. He sinks his knife into the raider’s gut, and immediately shoves him to the ground. He gurgles blood from his mouth as Arthur rushes over him, back toward the house.

The flames burst out the windows as he barrels back toward the door, grabbing at the handle and cursing aloud as it burns him.

The constriction in his chest has settled into a churning in his gut as he prepared to kick the door in. At this point would he be finding your charred, lifeless body, having bled out on the floor because he couldn’t protect you?

“Arthur-!”

He steps off the porch, not sure if he is lightheaded or hallucinating, but you move toward him, hitching your skirts, blood covering your blouse, your hair wild.

“Jesus-” He crashes into you, having nearly leaped the final few steps, crushing you into his chest, nearly causing you to stumble.

He yanks you back, large hands on your shoulders, and looks you up and down, eyeing the blood patch on your blouse.

“N-not mine.” You breathe, but he does not move his hand from your ribcage. It presses inward, against the wet cotton, splaying across your side as if he did not believe you, checking for where the knife would have marred your flesh.

“Arthur-” You whisper, your hands tight on his biceps, “I’m alright.”

His eyes dart back up to yours, searching, pupils dilated, breathing heavily.

“Ar-”

You’re cut off completely as he pulls you against him and presses his lips desperately against yours, muffling your surprised yelp as his tongue demands entrance into your mouth. After a moment of shock, you melt into his embrace, fingers tightening on his shirt sleeves as you open your mouth to him.

He kisses you like you are the air he breathes. Like you are some kind of salvation… like he thought he almost lost something.

Arthur pulls back, breathing heavily, a flush having taken over his face, “Christ-” he goes to unwind his arms from you, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

It’s his turn to be cut off as your hands immediately travel to the collar of his shirt and you pull him down to your lips to kiss him again, needy as you moan into his mouth.

His arms immediately recircle you, hands moving down from your ribs, down, down to your waist, your hips, your rear. Hooking his arms around the back of your thighs, you’re lifted up, squealing in surprise into his mouth as you wrap your legs around his waist.

Continuing to press into each other's mouths, you barely notice him walking the two of you back, further from the flaming cabin, into the woodline, and finally against a tree trunk a safe distance away. He pulls back, panting as you recline against it, his arms tight under your thighs.

He gazes upon your kiss-swollen lips; your heaving chest as you breathe heavily, your pupils blown wide in arousal. Arthur takes the opportunity to roll his hips once, his hardening cock pressing against your cunt, and your eyes flutter closed as a needy, breathy whine escapes your lips.

“Arthur-”

He does it again, maybe for his sake as much as your own, the blood rushing to his groin and filling his cock properly. He grits his teeth as the rolling becomes rutting, your gasps driving him insane.

Before he gets to the point of no return, he slows his hips and leans over to recapture your lips in another kiss. As he pulls his

“Thinkin’ you was dead back there-” He pushes his lips to yours again, “Christ- I… I never told you-”

One of his hands leaves your thighs, but you have no fear he’s going to drop you. He buries it in layers of cotton, pulling at your skirts to move them from his way, reaching your bloomers and pressing against your cunt, watching your face intently as you moan, the cotton separating you quickly dampening against his fingers.

He leans in again and groans against your neck. Grabbing the cotton tightly, he yanks until he feels the seams give way, the tearing sound ringing in his ears as he delves within the ruined fabric to your soaking folds. You jolt against him and whine loudly as he slides his fingers along the seam of your body.

Arthur covers your mouth with his own as he sinks his fingers into you, working you open as you clutch desperately at his shoulders.

After you’ve cried out several times in the night, his hand leaves you and you sigh at the loss, he shushes you gently as he works at the buttons of his trousers, finally freeing his cock from his pants after moments of fiddling. His hand returns to your thigh as he adjusts you in his arms. The head of his cock presses gently against the rim of your cunt.

Your hands move from his shoulders to cup his face, your thumb tracing his lower lip gently before he sucks the tip into his mouth, his eyes trained on yours.

He pulses his hips and his cockhead slips inside you. Your brows crinkle with the first vestiges of the ache of penetration, and he leans forward again to press his lips upon your forehead.

“What did you never tell me?” You whisper as he holds you on the cusp of joining, the precipice of sheathing himself into you.

One of his hands leaves your thigh, though you are completely unafraid of falling with your legs wrapped around him and the strength of his other arm. His fingers brush back a strand of your hair from your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear before his rough and calloused palm rests on your cheek.

“You’d have died and I woulda never told you I’m in love with you.”

Your eyebrows raise in shock as you clutch at him, and while you remain silent, after a moment, you pull him closer with your legs, nudging his back with your ankles, and he slowly slides himself inside you, inch by inch, until your hips touch and you mewl with the stretch. He hums softly before slowly, gently, rocking his hips, starting a slow rhythm as you get used to him.

His powerful arms keep you suspended against the tree trunk with each roll of his hips, each glide of the inches of him in and out of you, well glossed and hot with your slick.

Arthur’s lips press to yours incessantly, muffling your gasps and whines as he presses into you. After one particularly deep thrust, you throw your head back in ecstasy, bumping against the trunk of the tree.

“Careful there, darlin’,” Arthur slows his hips, and tightening his grip on your thighs, he pulls you away from the tree, you yelp and tighten your legs around his hips. He chuckles softly as he walks you, still joined, a few steps from the tree and slowly lowers the both of you to the ground on a patch of grass. Spreading himself out over you, he buries his head against your neck as he lets go of your thighs, his forearms on either side of your shoulders, rocking his hips into yours again.

The staccato whine of the syllables of his name escapes you as you hook your ankles around each other over his back. Carding your hands through his hair, your fingers interweave between his honeyed strands, his hat long gone in your desperation to join yourselves.

He presses himself up above you as his thrusts become more erratic, his breathing loud and heavy as he pounds you into the ground.

“God-” you cry out as your hands grasp his shirt, “Arthur, yes-”

He squeezes his eyes shut tightly, looming over you as he careens toward completion.

You arch your back, your thighs wrapping tighter around him as you begin to babble - “Yes- Arthur… I love you too-”, another gasp as he hits that spot within you, “God - I love you so much-”

That’s it. There it is, stripped bare and bleeding out like an open wound, his heart catching in his chest at your confession, and his amazement leaves him speechless as he thrusts into you once more, holding himself as deep as he can possibly get into you, feeling you pulse and clutch around him, wailing your pleasure into the night. It’s only a moment more before he has the wherewithal to yank himself from you, in the nick of time as he spurts his seed over your cunt, dripping white into the dark curls at the joining of your legs.

He’s gasping, you’re gasping, and he groans as he settles himself to the side of you, barely able to hold himself up with the exertion. Your legs hang open as you pant, flushed from your cheeks down your neck.

One of his large hands spreads out over your chest, against your racing heart, and you turn your head toward him, breathing out through your nose as a smile graces your lips.

“Probably should get outta here before any more stragglers find us.” He says, out of breath as he removes his hand to tuck himself back into his trousers. You nod and sit up, pulling your skirts down over your legs.

“D’ya think…” you trail off as you watch him rebutton his pants before he pushes himself to stand. His hair is ridiculously ruffled from the amount of times you've run your fingers through it.

“Mm?” He holds out his hand to you to help you up.

You take it, and he pulls you up into his embrace, his hand secure on your lower back.

“Was wondering if we could spend the rest of the night in Rhodes or somewhere instead of heading all the way back to camp…” You ask as you lay a hand on his chest.

He squeezes you closer to him.

“Sounds mighty nice… certainly wouldn't mind a stay in a hotel room tonight.”

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