#halfwits are gonna halfwit

[theyodelingsunflower]

What do you call an anarchist that calls another anarchist’s argument a bad one?

Bootlicker.

[wolfpropaganda]

you hate how they got rid of the news crew and replaced them with a go pro in the 10th anniversary edition now... but it’ll all pay off in the 20th anniversary edition when Mirror is just a rogue Alexa

[prettyboypistol]

TF2 x M!Reader|| How The Mercs Get Jealous!

You and the merc have just started dating, and have kinda kept it on the down low for the time being. While at a neutral zone bar, the Scout from the opposite tram decides to try and shoot his shot with you.

No dadspy.

Scout

He already doesn't like the fact that he is at a bar where BLU is drinking at, even if it was a neutral day! But what really got to him was how blatantly his (obviously inferior, duh!)counterpart started hitting on you! First it was a shot that he covered, then it was a joke that made you laugh a little too loudly. Jeremy bit the inside of his cheek and got between you two rather quickly.

"Hey. Back off freak! Like he'd ever want some knockoff, halfwit, loser lookin' Scout like you!"

You couldn't help but choke back a laugh as the BLU Scout gave Jeremy a once over, then backed away with a sneering of something under his breath.

"Hey, whaddya say!? Say it to my face, punk!" Jeremy shouted. Before he got up from his spot next to you to beat the BLU's face in, you put a hand on his shoulder.

"Jer, please. Like you said, why would I want a knockoff over the #1?"

Jeremy turned to you with a look of confidence- but you knew him well enough to know that he was clearly hiding a but of insecurity.

"You're my Scout." You assured sweetly, "accidentally" brushing your hand against his. That seemed to put his spirits back up.

Soldier

"NOW YOU LISTEN HERE, SON! THIS MAN RIGHT HERE IS RED PROPERTY! IF YOUR SCUMMY BLU HANDS EVEN TOUCH HIM, YOU'LL WISH SOONER THAT YOU TRIED FOR OUR INTELLIGENCE!"

Scout gave you both a weird look and backed off, hands up in a sign of defensiveness. You nudged Soldier's shoulder before quickly whispering in his ear.

"Solly! You're gonna get us to lose bar privileges this week!" You remind him, rather sternly. It had been a while since you had socialized in a neutral zone, after all!

"Why? That Scout was clearly looking to upset the neutral agreement!"

"He asked me about weather probabilities to see if he was going to have to fight in the rain tomorrow! We broke BLUS weather detection, remember?"

"Hmph! Sounds like worming his way into our intelligence! You're lucky I was here to stop him, private!"

You rolled your eyes with a tired smile as you went back to your drink, but felt the hot breath of Soldier in your ear as he bent over you to whisper.

"I caught him making eyes at you and I didn't like it. I don't trust him."

Aww, you couldn't help but find that sweet.

Pyro

You know that one scene from the comics where Pyro cuts a goddam bear in half? Yeah, same thing here. They see you and Scout at the bar, just casually chatting, then when you turn away, the Scout bites his lip and looks at your ass blatantly. To Pyro, Scout morphed into a big, bad wolf. You? You sprouted cute little sheep ears! Pyro wasn't about to let the cute little sheep get eaten, so they lunged at the Scout out of nowhere, the only thing that stopped them from decapitating the poor guy was you swiping the axe from Pyro's hands at the last second.

You profusely apologize to the Scout as you pull Pyro off of him and whisk yourself and your partner away to one of the more quiet corners. You hold Pyro by the hands and direct them to breathe. Once, twice, and a third time, before you let them start to explain themselves.

Once the situation was explained, you kissed their forehead and nodded in sympathy. You knew your partner thought you were in danger, and hell- you would do the same if you saw Pyro in danger they didn't notice! Nonetheless, you thanked Pyro for the protection and talked them down from their worries. You asked your Engineer to explain the situation to the enemy Scout, who refuses to even look at you again.

"Thank you for protecting me, that means a lot that your first instinct was to look out for my safety."

Pyro nodded and pulled you into a hug. They were just worried for you! They knew that there wasn't a good chance that the danger was real- but Pyro was not about to take that chance. Not after they had lost that gamble before.

Demoman

He slammed his hand down between the both of you as Scout leaned in for a whispering in your ear and announced a drinking contest. Whoever lost had to pay the tab! Yeah, the RED Scout was annoyed, but noreso at your blatant advantage! Demoman probably had your insane Medic sew him an auto-recovery from alcohol! That wasn't fair!

So, you and Scout decided to pace yourselves against each other, with Demoman as the judge. As the flirtatious tension morphed into that of competition, Demoman seemed to smile proudly at his work. He didn't mind if people lusted after you- that was a compliment to the fact that he snagged you first! It was only an issue when you didn't notice. That's when he felt he had to intervene.

You had scraped the win by a hair. While you clearly had a lower tolerance than the Scout, you had remembered a few tips and tricks to keep your wits about you longer that the judge himself had taught you! Although, there was no satisfaction of RED paying your tab, as you both had forgotten that the night out was a Mann Co. Sponsored event.

The next morning, Demoman tended to you extra sweet with little possessive nicknames such as "My boy", "my champ", and "Blu's finest". He never mentioned why, though, so you assumed that it was to apologize for the wicked hangover you had.

Engineer

He sits back and watches, but not without ill intent. No, this man plotted that little twig's demise at least 10 times in his head as you two sat a little too close together, as you two got so lost in conversation that you switched beers by accident, how you two seemed to get on a little too well. In fact, Dell had only realized that he was stewing when his mechanical arm cracked off a bit of the table that he had been grasping for dear life.

The noise certainly got both of your attentions, and if it didn't, then the loud curse in a familiar southern accent did. Engue usually kept an air of politeness about him, so you automatically knew something was up as he walked- or rather stormed up to the two of you.

He greeted the Scout with a forced and sickly sweet smile, and he introduced himself quickly before he asked to steal you away for all but a moment. You excused yourself quickly and followed Engie to the bathrooms, where your boyfriend started rambling things you couldn't quite hear. All youu knew was that whatever it was, it wasn't pleasant and it was all directed at that Scout.

"Dell, what's going on? Did that Scout fuck with one of your sentries?"

"No, no. I-" Dell took a moment to compose himself before he spoke again. "No doll, he was making googoo eyes at you, and I don't think I appreciated that kinda disrespect."

You nod, with a hum of acknowledgement. Now that you thought about it, he was acting rather familiar...

"Sorry, I guess I didn't realize how close we were while it was happening. Do you want me to steer clear of him for the night?"

"Well-" Dell said, clearly wanting to say yes. "You're your own man, I don't wanna step on your toes or nothin, it's just that- he uh, he's got some bad intentions with you. I can tell."

You smile sweetly as you give your boyfriend a gentle kiss. "I'd much rather spend the night with you, anyways."

Heavy

Scout barely had the time to get a word out to you as your Heavy scooped you up in a seemingly sudden victory cheer. In one of his hands was a drink, so you assumed that your boyfriend had wanted to congratulate you on something that you had done recently to impress him.

"Tiny man! Come here, I have gift for you for being best teammate!" Heavy announced as he brought you over to a booth and started speaking to you in Russian. Yeah, you could swing your way around Russian well enough to understand certain words. You could make out "no", "bad", and "dangerous" vaguely, but the body language made more sense to you. Heavy didn't trust that Scout too well. He seemed fine with you talking to the RED Engineer, but not the Scout?

"What's wrong?"

Heavy kept his voice low and quiet, for your ears only.

"Scout wanted to make sex with you. Look at his eyes." He muttered with a quick glance to the lithe man. He was more built than your scout, speckled with more freckles and dark blue eyes instead of your Scout's light blue eyes.

"I'd smash his head in if he made a move on me, I promise." You assured your boyfriend sweetly, a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"No no, I will bash his little brains in." Heavy assured.

Sniper

Stalks both of you like a shadow. He allowed Scout to buy you a drink, he allowed him to entertain his boyfriend, hell- he even allowed Scout to put his hand on his boyfriend's shoulder! With a downing of beer, a fast and powerful dart knocked Scout's hat off his head and pinned it to the wall. The look Sniper gave nearly made the Scout drop dead from the venom.

"Missed."

Scout knew damn well that he missed his head, not the dart board. Scout nodded you a quick good evening and scampered back to his team as Sniper looked to the outside. He just wanted to talk, in private.

As soon as you followed Sniper out of the bar, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you into the alleyway, pressing you up against the cold brick wall as Sniper kissed you deeply.

You were only given a small moment to breathe as Sniper leaned close to your ear. "Don't you ever let someone touch my boyfriend again, got it?"

"God, you're hot when you're jealous."

"I'll drag you back to my camper if you keep misbehaving." Sniper 'threatened', smiling far too excitedly to be angry at the idea. You took your opportunity to grab him by the wrist and drag him to his van.

Spy

He found it funny and cute in a way, how the RED Scout tried to hit on you. A young man with laughable experience tried to charm a man who had the best of the best that gave him attention? Spy had nothing to worry about. Although, the accepting of the invitation to dance drunkenly made his stomach turn sour. You and Scout laughed and stumbled around each other haphazardly, moreso slapstick joking rather than dancing. At least Scout kept his hands to himself.

Scout started to ask you genuine questions over a calming drink, and that is where Spy snapped. He sauntered over to you with a look of importance as he tapped you on the shoulder.

"Ah, I must steal you away. Miss Pauling had an important message for you." Spy whispered into your ear, his eyes glared with a gloating essence at Scout.

"Well, I'll catch you later, okay?" You smile sweetly to Scout, who waved you goodbye as Spy whisked you away to the other side of the bar before he cloaked himself as he pressed you against the wall. His body was flush against yours, with his hot breath on your neck.

"So, younger men catch your eye? I can be him for a night, if you're curious?" Spy hummed, as you practically heard the Cheshire grin of teasing in his whispered tone as you blushed red. At least you could blame it on the booze.

"No Spy, he's just an old friend. Coincidence that we both work at Mann Co." You whisper back as Spy worked his hands over your body, brazenly groping your chest, legs, and ass while he remained unseen.

Medic

Medic watched as the RED Scout performed a silly little knife trick to impress you, and Medic knew exactly what he was doing. Scout was a puffed up bird, trying to gain your interest. Really, even Archemedes had more of a pretty routine than Scout did! In fact, Medic approached you, with Archmedes on his finger to lure you away from the failed suitor.

As you cooed and doted on the dove, Medic shot Scout a scarily smug look as you were completely distracted with the bird that absolutely loved your affections.

"You know, you're the only one Archemedes ever loved for affection from! Well, aside from me of course! I think he's got a little crush on you!"

You giggle, scratching behind the dove's head with little kisses to his soft feathers. "Ah yes, the bird love of my life. He's so caring. I'd be a housewife for him!" You teased to Medic with a little wink. "He's almost as jealous as you, with how he puffs up when I kiss you."

"You have two jealous men vying for your affection, whoever will you choose?" Medic hummed dramatically.

"Well, Archemedes would never take blood samples to see if we are biologically compatible."

"That was only once!"

[jame7t]

Why so _______

- The ______

Fill in the blanks!

“Why songbirds?” She asked, fiddling with the faux-feathers. “Wouldn’t a corvid be a better fit for a… spy?”

Melvik rolled his eyes again, as if spywork and the elaborate creation of false-life was a simple thing that his temporary protégée was failing to grasp. “Sure, yeah, ravens are nosy little fucks- but when you see one, you watch it. They’re smart. You look at birds like that. You can feel them watching you. And watch one too closely…”

“…you’ll notice it’s fake,” she finished. “Okay, but why songbirds? They make so much noise.”

“It gets drowned out in the pack. Flock. Whatever. And that’s the point, too. Nobody expects a spy to make noise.” He leaned back from the desk, a single false bird complete- one more to the pile. He plucked the soon-to-chirp thing from the wooden bench, and placed it on the metal sheet her siblings sat motionless on. “Five-four. I take the lead again.”

Gloria furrowed her brows at him- it’s not her fault she’s the only halfwit in the spire who knows about faux-life the month before deployment. “Where IS your little helper, anyway? How come I’m stuck here helping you?”

Melvik leaned forward awkwardly to start on another songbird. “He decided he’s an aspirant.” He spit the word.

“Little Crug? He’s an aspirant?”

Melvik raised his eyes to meet Gloria, and gave a single small nod.

“Good lord- The other children call him Crug, how is he gonna be an aspirant?”

“He’s not. He’ll wash out.”

“Right.” Gloria looked down at the spy in her hands, realizing she’d inserted a feather backwards. “Fuck.”

Continuing as if they hadn’t reached the natural stopping point, Melvik sighed- “It’s like he’s ignored everything he’s good at in favor of something that’s get him killed even if he doesn’t flunk out. Which, mind you, he will!”

Fumbling with a misplaced leg, his rant continues.

“Even if he does, somehow, become a pilot, which one would he even drive? The Mercello? The damn Mercello? We need things other than Titans to protect the Keep!”

Gloria nods, half listening. She opens her mouth to interject- not yet sure if she agrees- but Melvik isn’t done.

“He’s going to wash out of training, and when he comes back with half his motor functions intact, he’s gonna be sorry when I don’t let him back in. I can’t!” He meets Gloria’s eyes. “It’d be a security risk at that point. You get it, don’t you?”

She gives him an uncertain half-smile; the act of becoming an aspirant is seen as noble- a sacrifice, even. But those who ‘wash out’ are not often kept in high regards. Gloria’s cousin was one such unfortunate aspirant.

Melvik sees the uncertainty and relents- his eyes close, and he opens them to view the rotten thing in his hand. He managed to insert both legs backwards in his anger- and maybe, he dreaded, his age.

“I just needed one. One guarantee this craft wouldn’t be lost when… when I lose it.”

Gloria grimaced- she didn’t think her workmanship was that bad. “I’m sure there’s others who’ll keep it up. You know? You’re not the only weaver.”

“Nobody knows how to weave like I do.”

“And why’s that? What’s your special secret?”

“Nobody knows how- they-“

“Come on, then! Spill it! Nobody knows how to what?!”

“Fill in the blanks!”

Gloria rolled her eyes. “That’s stupid.”

“It’s not stupid,” he groans, continuing far past the natural stopping point. “Real songbirds don’t just ‘start and stop’- real foxes don’t just sit and watch. You have to make them real. You have to make them feel real.”

“So what you’re saying is, the director pays you extra because you play with puppets.” She meant it as an insult- she certainly thought so.

Melvik grins.

He looks to the small, soon to chirp thing in his hands- legs corrected, little beady eyes ready to see. “Yeah…”

He envisions the Titans- the pilots sitting within their puppet-rigs, marching along the ocean front; watching for the minions of the Corpse Moon to meet them along the coastal crags.

“Puppets.”

Maybe he does understand.

[ask-lab-rats]

Hey taco do yall

Get into fights or no

"TACO!!

How could you just let them take the blame for you!?"

"I- I- They stood up for me!?"

"But YOU did it!"

"OJ, calm down."

"Well it's not like anyone else was gonna. You didn't even flinch."

"Because it should've been you."

"Hey! There's not need for that!" - Pickle

"Stay out of this, halfwit!"

"Okay, that's enough!"

"How dare you!? Leave Pickle out of this!"

"Why should I?"

"OJ! There's no need for that!"

"Oh!? You wanna fight? I'll show you a fight!"

Part 1/3 (part 2 - part 3)

[shinjisdone]

Ticking Springs

(A Yandere Pinocchio X fem!Reader fic from Lies of P)

Pɑɾt 1; Sluɱbeɾ

capitolo uno

capitolo due

capitolo tre

capitolo quattro

capitolo cinque

capitolo sei: is here

Capitolo sette

Capitolo otto

Capitolo nove

Capitolo dieci

Pɑɾt 2; Awɑƙeƞiƞƍ

It was a privilege to share the same blood as Giuseppe Geppetto. To be his family, his niece and take part in the marvelous worlds of puppets. The privilege to learn from him as his apprentice. The privilege to care for the things he cares for and to have the things he cares for, care deeply for you.

Tag List:

@greeknerd007 , @mitsureigen , @kame11a , @thirdblogsacharm , @sarah22447 , @blueberryhitosh1 , @written1nthest4rs , @huicitawrites

TW in general: Yandere behaviour, creepy and still puppet, dubious intentions and relationship, still in WIP more warnings may occure in time, also I am running out of pictures of P he looks the same in every pic (but prettily so) and so im gonna end up using the uh same ones prbly

[TW for this one specifically include: Demeaning uncle Geppetto, mentions of grief, signs of overworking mentioned, blood, wounds and crying, anxiety, puppet going aray]

[Also, I am gonna be like that and mention that I would not mind any comments or reblogs! This series is definitely gonna have short chapters and is currently building up settings but there's gonna be good ol yandere Pinocchio tailing after you like a puppy afterwards, no worries!]

The wrench bent on contact with the floor.

It was mere and old wood but the throw was aggressive enough to leave the tool useless. It was one of many. One he could easily snatch from the Workshop Union from.

Damn these halfwits.

He was not expecting a call from them. They were just as naive and cocky as the Workshop Union, and their glorious, genius breakthroughs.

With a grunt he picked up the tool before carelessly throwing it into a metal bucket. One on the far right corner and one far too familiar.

A heavy and frustrated sigh escaped him.

"Oh, son," Removing one glove, his fingers ran down his sweaty face, "It's always the same with them." Just as briskly as he sat down, Geppetto got up from the chair just as fast. His voice tired but still holding onto bitterness. "Stealing my time meant for you."

Brown eyes tiredly wandered up the motionless figure sitting on the blood-red armchair. The fabric untouched while surrounded by tools and oil, material that fell off shelves left on the floor. The pads were full and soft, so heavenly soft as it seemed - only the best for him even if he was not awake yet. Nevertheless, the sight irked him, from the unfinished touches of the skin up to the missing arm. It couldn't be any arm and so Geppetto had to wait and wait and wait for the material to be stocked again and again.

Progress was thriving at top speed but it didn't seem like that to him. All was too slow. Everybody was too tardy.

The flick of the light was fast but reluctant and as he looked outside, a scoff escaped him. Another long, long night but a dry one at that at least. Krat's cloudless nightsky the only relief he could feel.

Eyes mustered the nervous smile on your lips. Shoulders up to your ears and a little list in your hands - the man's hand absent-mindedly went to his mustache as he offered a smile to the lady before his eyes met yours again. With a nod, you were the next one in line.

The man rose his eyebrows and tilted his melon hat for a moment. You briefly scanned the list in your hands. "Baby blue fabric...made out of cotton, please?" "We certainly have that." Answered the man, "How long? Width and thickness?"

"Oh," You gave the measurements written on the paper and the clerk gestured you to follow. His other hand pointed on the hallway to the left. "Cherry." You turned your head as you tried to keep up, only to see a short puppet appear from the hallway, wearing the same melon hat as the man - only with a small ribbon at the side. Leading you to the back and taking out a roll of the cloth you requested, the man first showed it to you. 'Cherry' in the meantime rose its two hands, which consisted of a scissor and a measuring tape. Yet the clerk stopped it, before looking back to you. "I will let you know, young lady...100% cotton is expensive and we at Tailorshop Cherry never deliver anything other than superb quality."

He could see the hesitance in your face and took another roll of the wall. "60% cotton. Here, feel it." So you do, fingers gliding over the different fabric and as your eyes dart between the two rolls. The clerk eyed you with raised brows and it was almost like the puppet did, too.

You sucked in air. "...Perhaps 100% cotton would be better?" Making a face, the man sucked in air himself. "Can you even afford this, young lady?" He rolled the cloth up, "The measures you request for seem like that of an toddler. I've had...gentlemen pay the same sum to ask for their darlings hand."

"It's fine!"

"It is fine..." You repeated softer, "I am aware that this tailor is known for its quality...but I do know what I want." You pointed at the blue cloth. "This one would be just perfect."

The consequences were clear to you...but finances were the least of your worries. Your eyes throughouly stared at the roll, before looking up at the man and nodding your head firmly once more. Maybe you were too dead set on doing this and all of this might bite you later...it all depended on your uncle. Just musing about it made you deflate a bit. Perhaps it is the age, the stress, the work...but he has been more agitated since you last saw him - before your visit, before you moved here.

Or perhaps it was grief.

Eyes glanced to the side before looking back. "Well then, here you go." Feigning a smile, you took the package, one as big as your torso. You didn't like to think about it. "Cherry will stamp you a card. At the third purchase, 15% off!" It was too long ago. Or not, maybe even. "Thank you for purchasing from Tailorshop Cherry!" The puppet's hand brought out a stamp, punching a cherry-shaped hole on the pink card. It's voice softer and higher than that of the baker. You smiled and bowed before leaving.

Distracting oneself is easy. Either with your own life or with puppets.

A shaky gasp escaped you before the shrill echoes of inserructions neared. Your knees fell to the floor, the card long abandonded on the sullied ground as you clenched your hand to your chest with a high scream. The nearby customers congegrated around you but the salesman was quick to be the first one knelled at your side. Your ears felt about to burst - from the sounds of your crying to the panic of the people and the non-stop imploration of the man. The puppet seemed to speak, somewhere in the shop, for the first time since you entered.

"15% off!"

"15% off!"

"15% off!"

You cried and hissed as the shopkeep forcefully took your hand away from your grasp. Though he begged and begged to at least see, you were sure as hell from the pain that there was too much blood.

Somehow, somewhere feet scrambled and you heard sirens soon after. Before anyone could barge through the door, the man held you by the shoulders as he and others tried to stop the bleeding - begging and begging to not utter the name Tailorshop Cherry.

The sound of stomping in the air as well as revolted murmurs resounded still.

"15% off!"

The stitches and bandages were done with. A woman offered you a handkerchief to dry your tears. Though it was all awfully sweet, the mention of having been lucky that the puppet's clutches did not move any closer to your bone was one you immediately tried to force out of your head.

The card was left there on the shopfloor, its cherry pink color tainted red.

Jumping, you halted before your feet stepped on another pair. The door threw itself shut harsher and louder than anticipated and trying to save face, you quickly stepped to the side. Geppetto continued where he was left off - putting on his coat.

He glimpsed at you from the side, back hunched as he let one arm crawl into the sleeve as he did the other. You bit your lip and avoided his gaze before taking a step back. The wind picked up by the time you came back to the workshop and howled against the door. It creaked slightly.

The older man reached for his hat, "And where were you, young lady?" Finally he fully turned to you, though his eyes were still narrowed. "Out." You quickly but meekly let out and played with a loose wrapping end of the package. "As I told you, Uncle."

"I wasn't aware you'd be out this long." He looked for an umbrella, just in case, but kept his tone flat while speaking. "I don't like it when you are out for that long. Especially as such a young girl as yourself."

"I," You licked your lips after the small stutter, "I wanted to get back by dinner." "Dinner." Geppetto sighed, "Oh. Right, dinner." His hectic movements halted; before he began to button up his coat calmly. Eyes scanned the hallway and turned to you. "Be a dear and order food. Sandwiches or, or pasta. No, actually get something that can be eaten cold." You took a step closer, "Won't you have a bite before you leave? It's late and I am sure you're hungry. Besides, the weather's getting awful."

"The better it is that I leave now." Taking a small, old umbrella he finally found, Geppetto opened the door and took a step outside - but not before looking at you. "Order some food, dear, I'll be sure to enjoy it after I come back. And..." Brown eyes narrowed as he slightly leaned closer. The man scrunched up his nose.

"What happened to you, (Name)?" His eyes flickered to your limp hand. You mimicked his movements but tried to hide the bandaged hand under the parcel anyway.

"...Uncle, today afternoon..."

"Ah, you are fine though now, aren't you?" Geppetto failed to see the frown on your face the moment he mentioned the injury. Instead, he patted his collar down. "We'll talk about this later but this is what happens to children staying out after dark. You don't see how you get hurt."

Again, you tried to gather courage to speak your mind, just a word, a mere objection to his ridicilous and childish assumptions-

"...Go to bed early, (Name). You already have a few dark circles under your eyes, unbecoming of a young lady."

The door was shut close. A strong gale blew into the workshop briefly, leaving a shudder down your spine.

The frown stayed on your face. Still, the parcel had to be stored into your room sooner or later, and it was best done sooner judging from your uncle's mood. Adjusting your grip, as it started to slip out of your clutch, you slowly went up the stairs while having a hard time taking your eyes off the door.

Eyes stayed trained on the needle and the fabric, as well as your fingers, as the sewing machine diligently worked away. Although you held both machinery and fabric rather awkwardly with the side of your hand, the sure progress melted your sadness away, bit by bit.

Your wallet may have not suffered today for you got the fabric graciously for free, but your limb surely did.

The puppet did not really puncture your thumb, the emergency responder said. Still, the injury was deep enough to be treated with stitches and bandages...and a few painkillers, possibly. It kept you on wiping your tears.

The mechanical cadence would stop as you shift and lay the fabric in different directions, cut off unneeded material while avoiding to accidentally stab out your own eyes with the scissor whenever you rubbed them. The experience today was scary enough but despite it, you did not want to stop now.

Forcing yourself to take one more sip of your drink, you cleared your throat. Eyelids feeling heavier.

A puppet wasn't supposed to do that.

No puppet was ever meant to harm another, human or mechanical fellow alike. Even if it was a mere accident - this 'Cherry' should have sensed your flesh being too close to its brackets and it not having targeted the card correctly.

On top of that, echoing its master's words like a madman if you recalled right.

Uncle Geppetto had to know. Even if he would still be too busy to listen, you'd have to let him know.

"...I know you..."

You frowned as the machine begun again. Your voice barely reached the same volume as this old thing...neither did your sniffles.

"...I don't feeling like singing that one." Mumbles reaching no one but yourself. Once again, you sniffled and cleared your throat, focusing on the task at hand.

"...When you wish upon a star..."

Lone words entered the lone room. Sitting up straighter made you feel more focused, more awake. Here, in the moment and aware that this trivial task meant change for you.

"...Makes no difference who you are..."

The machine continued flawlessly despite its age. You even found yourself singing while it conducted its own cadence, no matter if both tunes melodically weaved in together or not.

It was about the feeling. About the action.

It was about being heard even if your only audience was yourself.

Yet it was not. It never was.

"...Anything your heart desires..."

Behind the many walls, down the turning and winding stairs and straight through the locked door, were sounds emitting and attempting to mimick your own.

The rattling was resounding from the underground and offering its own melody in hopes it will join and align with yours.

Though it sung in high and longing tunes when picking up the sound of your sniffles.

Naive, little thing that you were, you did not hear it over your own whimsical fantasies.

"...Will come to you..."

[thecountesstribe]

HOTD SEASON 2X4 SPOILERS AND REACTIONS.

Babies we got our asses kicked today huh??!

I knew it was coming, I knew but that doesn't make it hurt less. As a matter of fact it hurts worse because I loved book Rhaenys and sure they changed and butchered her character somewhat in the show but that was Grandma and I loved her. I need Vhagar and Aemond dead bro. I'm not even playing I'm wishing for their downfall so hard right now. Rhaenys Targaryen was one of the greatest women in Westeros to ever live and stamp that. I'm not ready for the reactions of her family when they find out about her death. Baela, Rhaena, Jace, Corlys, Rhaenyra and the others just recently lost Luke and to lose her so soon after. I'll be sick. Her relationship with Meleys was so special to me. Meleys looking back at her for the first time during the episode and then taking her last look at her for the final time, I was in tears. I'll never get over this hurt. Her face when she realized that she wasn't going back home with Meleys and the fall 💔💔💔. I am not okay, I'm not okay. Rest in peace to them both.

Sunfyre I'm sorry you had that halfwit who barely knows his mother tongue for a rider even though that little nudge you gave him was actually super duper cute. Another one of my babies. Y'all don't think they rewrote the story to kill off Sunfyre because in the trailer for episode 5, Sunfyre wasn't shown.

Aemond I hate you! Living up to that kinslayer moniker. So we intentionally see him burn both his brother (honestly fuckin deserved and about time) and his dragon. Wonder how this is gonna play out, they better not give Aemond Baela's story arc. I'm so fuckin serious. That's it. I wanna fight.

Rhaenyra coming home to a tongue lashing was so satisfying. Jacaerys was fed up y'hear me. He was done. Her telling him about the song of fire and ice just like Vizzy T did for her warmed me a little.

Criston Cole shut the fuck up challenge. It happened years ago, it's time to let that hurt go. They let that old man read him for filth and spit on him just for me.

Alicent being potentially pregnant and having to take medieval plan b or is it medieval abortion medication is so funny to me. I wonder how crybaby Cole would take the news of her potentially getting rid of the child? It's gonna be a mess.

Jacaerys was angry this entire episode and I don't blame him. Why in a room full of adults with battle experience/tactics for the war to come does he and Baela have to act like the adults. On top of that his queen, the one who they're fighting for is just taking unnecessary stupid risks and not thinking like a leader. I'd be irritated asf too. The black council aside from a selected few are just a bunch of bickering childish idiots. Both him and Baela were tired. Baela and him stepping up and leading the council was so good. They literally fed us what could've been had they had a chance to rule. Westeros was robbed. Baela proving she's just as worthy as Jace is just *chefs kiss. One thing I could say about my boy is that he knows Baela could hold her own, she's proved it but he will never ever under any circumstances let anybody feel that they could dismiss her or disrespect her. Him letting that one goof know it's because of her they have actual information on some of the greens army and acknowledging her contributions, yeah they would've been both sat the throne. Ain't nothing like she's just a queen's consort with no power. They would've been co rulers fr. Him comforting her publicly when they brought up Daemon in front of the council no less, like he doesn't play about her. That's the kinda guy you want to be locked in for life with. Rhaenys looking on in the background was a parallel to the first time they held hands during the funeral and she came up to them and she peeped the same thing she peeped then. I know she knew that Baela was in great hands. 😭😭😭 Never beating the best couple in Westeros allegations.

They black council talking about Daemon probably having an orgy LMAOO, he's getting fucked alright. That man has not had one moment of peace since he stepped foot in spooky town and it's what he deserves. Laena being beautiful and haunting his ass, period boo and baby Rhaenyra wearing older Rhaenyra's clothes and the crown that was too big for her tiny head (symbolizing it was/is a burden) and tormenting him. Yeah I'm gonna have that on repeat.

Rhaenys already knowing Adam and Alyn are Corlys children before flying to her death and her informing him and that sweet scene with Alyn, I think she learned her lesson after the whole debacle with Laenor and his boys. That's growth. Wish we could've had more of that development on screen but what can we do.

It was honestly a solid episode. I'm exhausted this was probably a review too long and if you stuck around till the end thanks for reading my thoughts ❤️. Sunfyre, Meleys and Rhaenys didn't deserve that. Sending hugs.

[arianatheangel-girl]

Heavenly Protector; or, An Elvis Fan's Revenge

(Author's note: I present to you, what I think all Elvis fans wish we could do to those shitty comedians who keep making fun of his weight and manner of death. The beginning part was inspired by something (I think) was on Robot Chicken in the past. Enjoy!)

In a studio in Los Angeles, a man dressed like Elvis Presley in his final years sat on a large toilet, in a film set resembling a bathroom, acting as though he were struggling to defecate.

“Ugh��shouldn’t have eaten that last fried peanut butter sandwich!” He gasped, grasping the fake large belly underneath the spangly jumpsuit he wore. “I’m…I’M ALL PLUGGED UP! Uh-HUH-HUH!” He pretended to sing, before collapsing off the toilet and playing dead.

“And…cut!” Called the director. “Great take, Will! MadTV’s gonna love this! Man, Elvis is a neverending supply of jokes in and of himself, huh?”

“Yeah, tell me about it!” Will laughed as he stood up.

Just then, the lights started to flicker in the studio. The actors looked confused, wondering if the studio was experiencing a power outage or something, before each of the lightbulbs burst, one by one. The room grew cold, deathly cold, almost as if it were in the middle of a blizzard, causing those in the room to shake; then, a low, deep voice spoke.

This was Ariana, an angel and an ardent admirer of Elvis, disguising her voice and visage in order to appear more frightening. These foolish humans had broken two major rules: never speak ill of the dead, and never piss off an angel.

“Halfwits. Fools. You dare besmirch his name this way? How dare you. How terrible can you be, to make fun of the way someone left this earth? Did you ever stop to think how this sort of ‘humor’ hurts those who love him? Did no one teach you not to speak ill of the dead?”

Will began to shake, both from the cold and the ominous tone of the voice. “Wh-What are you talking about? He-he’s just some dead rock star, he’s not-!”

“SILENCE! Proud, cruel, hollow, idiotic creatures that you are!” Ariana shouted, as the floor began to shake.

“Let this remind you…why you once feared the dark.”

With that, large, thick vines sprang from beneath the wooden floor of the studio, destroying the camera, and then entangling each of the actors’ limbs and pinning them to the floor, as strange ghosts and terrifying-looking beings began to appear around the room, terrifying each of those in the studio; Ariana had made sure the spirits would appear to each of them as their own darkest fear. 

Ariana stood over them, smiling as she watched the idiotic, cruel humans writhe in fear. The spirits would fade after a while, and the vines would vanish by morning, but she saw no reason for them to know that.

“If there is any part of your mind that can still reason, take this thought with you; Leave Elvis alone. If you continue to make fun of him, bad things will follow; spread this word. And never speak ill of the dead again, or you may suffer a worse fate than death itself. Remember this well.” Ariana whispered, before vanishing.

@vintagepresley @mooodyblue @kiankiwi @loving-elvis @jhoneybees

[cinnabun-faerie]

FFXIV Scions ♬New Rules ♬

A/N: I love this song too much

Song: New Rules - Dua Lipa

Warning: Toxic Relationships, Post-Breakup, pain, heartache

“One: Don’t pick up the phone. You know he’s only callin’ ‘cause he’s drunk and alone”

You knew Thancred too well, when he got drunk he was all in his feelings; the good bad and the guilty. And he'd always call you and tell you the same things. He missed you, he loved you, he hated you. He'd talk nonsense and go on about how you were the one that got away, how he wanted to be yours instead of whatever halfwit he imagined was probably in your life. But why did you always pick up his calls? Did you wish that all the things he said in his drunken honesty was something he was brave enough to say to you normally instead of hiding behind lies?

Or do you miss him as much as he misses you?

“Two: Don’t let him in, you’ll have to kick him out again”

You tried to make things seem as normal as you could with him after the break-up. Key word, tried. You were perfectly fine with being his friend, but he wasn't on the same wavelength. He was still in love with you (so he says) and would make it his personal duty to sabotage your dates. And he wouldn't stop at anything no matter how cruel his words were to get your date to never lay eyes on you again. And enough would be enough. You didn't want to see him again. And you'd change the locks of your home to make sure he couldn't get in so unexpectant. Not to mention you had to set up a security system.

“Three: Don’t be his friend, You know you’re gonna wake up in his bed in the mornin’”

There was no way the two of you could be friends after everything that happened between you. And you tried, but there was so many memories that was both perfect and painful. And too easily did the two of you fall into an seemingly endless circle of letting the lingering feelings win. It started with a nice evening and ended with either of you sneaking out of the other's bed.

“And if you’re under him, you ain’t gettin’ over him”

For the longest time, there hadn't been love in your relationship with him. Most of the time you both would just satisfy each other for nights on end. Even after the relationship was over, you two often saw each other for hookups. You two had cared deeply for each other but didn't know how to communicate that properly and thus you did it through passionate sex. No matter how many times both of you tried to break contact from the other, you'd always come crawling back.

[daisykihannie]

Hi hun. So admittedly I haven't read much of your stuff. But if people are coming and attacking you for writing something different, you need to block those people. No one should be making you feel any type of negative way for writing what you want. This is YOUR platform and you should use it however you want!! Don't let other people dull your sparkle. I am so sorry that you've been dealing with this and it's not okay. Please don't let any one of those negative people have any say about your platform. Write what you want. Post what you want. Do what YOU want. Not what those halfwits want. At the end of the day, this is your outlet, don't let anyone make you feel shamed like that. It's not okay. You are allowed to try out different writing styles. Don't let anyone tell you you're not. Your posts about having disappointed your readers have broken my heart, nobody should ever make you feel that way. Write what you enjoy. Enjoy what you write. That's ny motto.

thank you🫶🏻 i did block the anons when i got the messages in my ask box but i still read them and unfortunately i’m an over thinker and so i worried about how i might have disappointed you guys more than just the anons yk? but i appreciate your message and i hope there’s more people who agree with you than the hate i got. I’m definitely gonna work on not caring so much and writing what i enjoy. It’ll probably keep me from being so burnt out on writing too.

[macsimagines]

Can I please get a yandere baji and hakkai with an innocent s/o?

(Baji has gotten popular thankfully! Have you guys read his spin off manga? -Ms.Mac)

Yandere!Baji

Not a very innocent person. Is extremely upfront about what he says. Doesn't like having to explain things to you though?

"Baji, what's a Milf?"

"Where did you hear that!?"

Feels like he has to protect you from this disgusting world! But also leaves his porn mags out where you can find them like a halfwit then has to tell you not to worry about why that pretty lady was bent in half holding a banana-!

JUST DON'T WORRY ABOUT IT. Stop asking him questions! The hell are you the cops!?

Loves you though and really appreciates how innocent you are. You must be guarded at all costs.

Monitors everything that you're involved with and the second he senses someone he thinks is going to taint your pure innocence he's there.

Yes, including your five year old cousin. Five year olds are vicious.

Yandere!Hakkai

You both are too sweet for this world, but dear god help him, you're gonna kill this poor boy.

Made contact with your fingers for exactly 3 seconds and thought he was going to die.

Holding hands? Out of the questions, he is not a slut.

His sister and Mitsuya have to intervene to help you two along. Thanks to their intensive training he can now sit next to you for a whole five minutes without passing out.

But he's super wary of other people. He's still in a gang and the looks he shoots people that get too comfrotable or close to you are downright terrifying.

He is still Hakkai Shiba, second in command in the second division of Toman and younger brother of the leader of the Black Dragons.

The reputation alone scares off everyone who wants to mess with you, and when that doesn't work his hands are rated E for everyone.

Just don't ask him what a creampie is, he will combust from the inside out.

[beowulfzz]

u are so fucking annoying im being so so fr 😭😭 could you shut the fuck up for once in ur life LIKE HONESTLYYY LMMFAOOOO,,, 😅👀👀 sigmaaa sigmaaaa FUCK YOU

who even are you 2. if you're gonna be a halfwit and insult me, at least use your account to do so instead of hiding behind the anonymous mechanic

[toujokaname]

Game master / Episode 21

Author: Akira

Characters: Aira, Rinne, Kohaku, HiMERU, Tatsumi, Mayoi

"I'm grateful, I honestly am."

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[ Read on my site for a better viewing experience using Ois~su ♪ ]

Season: Winter

Location: Matrix Stage

Aira: —Hwah?!

(H-Huh? Where... is this?)

(It's bright! My eyes are adjusting after being in the dark for so long, but somehow, after dodging those weirdos for ages, we've stumbled into this wide area!)

(What are these, fireflies? Stars? I can't tell, but there are so many lights floating around!)

(What's this mysterious space...?)

Rinne: Welcome.

Did you have fun with the test of courage?

Aira: Ah, there he is, the mastermind! Look, Hiro-kun, Kohakucchi, the culprit's shown himself! Now beat him up!

Kohaku: Right. But before that, mind clearin' a few things up?

What the hell's all this about?

Rinne: Gyahaha, what a dumbass question! "Teacher! I don't even know what I don't know!" That's literally you.

Kohaku: Shut up. I ain't in the mood to go along with your stand-up comedy, especially after havin' to play tag with those mysterious masked guys 'til just now.

Quit stallin' and fess up already, or I'll roll you up in a bamboo mat and plunge you into the sea, ya halfwit. [1]

Rinne: No wayyy, ever since getting involved with Double Face, my child's turned into a delinquent...

Kohaku: I've been a delinquent from the get-go~... If anythin', I've been gradually becomin' a good kid since then.

Rinne: Yeah. By now you must've figured I'm sketchy, and that Matrix has an ulterior motive, yet you've obediently played along until the very end.

To repay those feelings, I'm gonna show you guys something good.

This is—my real hometown.

Kohaku: Rinne-han's hometown...?

Rinne: What I've shown you so far is only the surface of our hometown.

Think of it like the layer that hides something important, the armor shielding something fragile.

To put it in extreme terms, unless we're talking about a completely different dimension—

Environments completely cut off from the outside world only exist, if at all, within specially treated equipment in a lab.

While our hometown may have a pretense of self-reliance, we still need to be connected to the outside world. For food, water, and other essentials.

Rinne: The Amagi Village you visited is a contact point set up for that purpose—it's nothing more than a bridgehead or a frontline base.

It's a fake Amagi Village, so to speak.

And this space, it's where the village meets the outside world, linked to our hometown—you could call it a gateway.

Look, you can vaguely make out a door in the back, right? Beyond there lies the real Amagi Village.

It's where we're from. After following a long, long tunnel from there, we reach the hometown where we were born and raised

Kohaku: Yeah, I see it. There's this faintly visible buildin' in the distance. Looks oddly modern—is that Rinne-han's real hometown?

Rinne: Yeah. To those expecting a stereotypical backward village from a movie, my condolences, but this ain't exactly the old-fashioned countryside that everyone imagines.

In terms of scientific power alone, we might be more advanced than you.

Making buildings levitate in the air with perpetual motion machines and anti-gravity is as simple as pie, unlike anything you guys can achieve.

HiMERU: Is this a story from a sci-fi novel?

Rinne: It's a story from reality. If I explain too much, even as the monarch, I might be held accountable, so I can't divulge all the details.

Well, mysteries are better in some ways, they let your imagination run wild ♪

Rinne: Maybe we're descendants of aliens who came from outer space. Or maybe we're underground dwellers who've lived in hiding on the other side of the earth.

Or maybe we're the descendants of a persecuted people, defeated by the Yamato Imperial Court and repeatedly driven into distant corners in ancient times.

Our origins don't matter. What matters is that we're intelligent beings who can talk and share our feelings with you.

Unlike insects or animals, we can do the same work as you.

We can live in the same society.

We can even become idols.

Tatsumi: It's clear that you, that all of you, are unfamiliar beings.

But if we share the same aspirations, we should be able to coexist. Isn't that so, Mayoi-san?

Mayoi: Yes, Tatsumi-san. That's why I, too, am shamelessly living here with you all.

Rinne: It's strange, isn't it, underground dwellers? We're people who may have different births and upbringings, maybe even different races, yet we wear the same clothing and sing the same songs.

And so, we can love and be loved by everyone. That's good, isn't it. It's a miracle.

Rinne: There's someone who taught me that such miracles really do exist.

Back in my teenage years, I longed for the outside world so much that I ran away from my hometown. After getting lost for a while, I ended up on some street corner—

And found someone singing and smiling.

It was an unknown idol, to the point where nobody knows his name anymore. Maybe not even Ai-chan, who loves idols so much, knows him.

A long time ago, he couldn't sell anything and ended up retiring.

And yet, that idol, who was nothing special at all and could be found anywhere—at the time, I was just some little kid and looked up to him.

When I seriously ran away from home and pursued becoming an idol, he helped me a lot. He was a kind guy who taught me the basics of how to be an idol.

His producer in charge was Akan-san, and when he retired and she was left with some free time, she decided to produce me too.

She managed to turn me into a proper idol, one way or another.

In the end, during my solo days, I couldn't keep up with the times, and I was left completely stranded when the bigwigs at my agency fell from power with "SS."

Even before that, I hardly had any jobs; I was essentially open for business but had none. That was just the final straw, or rather, the fatal blow.

Rinne: Despite being meant to disappear quietly like that, why is it that someone like me is still able to stand on stage even now?

It's all thanks to my benefactors who taught me how to live as an idol.

It's because of them that I've been able to love being an idol and still not be disillusioned.

I'm grateful, I honestly am.

[ ☆ ]

Kohaku's referring to "sumaki," a term associated with a method of execution. This method involved throwing someone wrapped in a mat into water, often resulting in death. While not a formal punishment for crimes, it was commonly employed in extrajudicial killings by bakuto, the predecessors to modern yakuza.

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[mk-smokescreen]

Mortal Kombat Legends: Blood Bound.

Chapter 8: The general, the halfwit and the Saurian

As the three boarded the ship, they went under the deck to relax for the time being. Robin finds a net to lay down in, Muchacha sat close to the ladder, gently putting down the boy, and Sabbia jumped on some wooden supports and hanged from them like an actual snake. Muchacha, who's a bit tired, lays on her back, while the caped crusader looks at her with a bit of concern. He's about to speak when the general beats him to it.

MUCHACHA: No need for your sympathy, I'm fine. I'm just resting, is all.

The crusader, a bit pissed by her response, decides to lay back, not knowing how to continue. He looks at the ceiling and the floorboards. The saurian then looks at him. Nico, noticing his stare, looks at him.

ROBIN: Need a word? Something bothering you? Tell me and I'll try to help.

SABBIA: How can you be so kind? Especially after I tried to kill you.

ROBIN: Well, if my human side has taught me anything, it's that a little forgiveness could go a long way. And you didn't kill us. So, no hard feelings. Now, what's troubling you, pal? If you don't want to tell me, that's okay too. It's your choice. Just saying. No pressure. But, if you do want to tell me, feel free.

As Robin said that, he pulled out his phone and started playing some soft music to fit the moment. The reptilian, looking at him, smiled and nodded, and he just listened and enjoyed the song.

SABBIA: This is quite enjoyable. What is it called? Is it an Earthrealm song? Can I listen to it later?

ROBIN: Well, I would tell you, but we'd get copyright claimed if I did. But sure, listen here with me.

The two listened for a few more seconds before Robin asking Sabbia some more questions.

ROBIN: So, Sabbia, tell me more about yourself. Where'd you come from? How'd you learn to phase through floors? Do you have two dongs?

there was nothing but dead silence for a dead five seconds.

ROBIN: Okay, that was too much, sorry, thats an invasion of privacy, I'm gonna shut up. J-Just ignore that last one, please.

The saurian, a bit confused by the last question, just ignores it.

SABBIA: It's alright. You can ask all the questions you'd like. I came from a small town, which was located somewhere near Sun Do, I believe. I learned how to phase through things but It was originally just me being able to go through sand, as well as I learned to conjure sand and make constructs out of it.

He said that as he made a small sand castle appear on the floor.

SABBIA: As for your third question, I am unsure of how to awnser that. What do you mean "dongs"?

ROBIN: ... Don't worry about it. So, why are you so concerned about your sister?

Sabbia, who is scared to awnser the question, looks away. He sighs, and looks back at the crusader. Robin, looking at the saurian with a face that says "I got you, bro", puts his hand on Sabbia's shoulder. The reptilian, who is a bit scared, speaks up.

SABBIA: My sister and I... were alone for quite a while. She has been sick for as long as I can remember, so I've been doing whatever I can to provide for her, to keep her healthy, or at least well enough. I've been looking for a cure, but I never found one. When I saw her last, I told her to hide away wherever she can. Then, I was possessed by that wizard. He took control of my mind, and... now I'm here. And I need to find my sister. If she's still alive

Robin, who is a bit suprised by the reptilian's honesty, puts his hand on his shoulder.

ROBIN: Sabbia, be positive. From 1 to 10, how bad is her disease?

Sabbia, thinking about it for a second, looks back at the crusader. He sighs, and responds.

SABBIA: I am unsure. How bad is being able to shift shapes between Saurian and Outworlder?

Robin, looking a bit confused, answers the snake man.

ROBIN: eh-- Zero? Your sister can shapeshift, that's a spectacular ability, why are you calling it a disease?

SABBIA: Saurians like that are considered monsters. When my mother discovered that, she sent her away with me as her protector. Since then, we've been living in a small town, and I was trying to find a way to get her cured, to no avail. I fear she might have died while I was gone. It's my fault for leaving her alone.

Nico grabs the saurian's arm, trying to calm him down.

ROBIN: Pull your shit together, man! It isn't your fault. It's that dickhead wizards fault. But you can avenge yourself if given the opportunity. We'll help you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go talk to my pal, and maybe get a name for that boy. You can chill with some music, okay?

Robin gets off the net and walks over to the general, and sits down next to her. The two sit in silence for a minute or so, before Robin decides to break the silence. He speaks in a hushed tone, because he doesn't want the reptilian to hear.

ROBIN: How's the kiddo? You're good with kids, no? You got a name for the kid, by the way? Maybe you should name him, 'cuz I don't know his name.

MUCHACHA: Well, he does have this mask around his belt. It reads 'patient Z' on the outer side. Could it be his name? Or something else. At least he's okay. Still unconscious, but okay. How about Sabbia?

Robin and Muchacha turn to see Sabbia relaxed, listening to music with the caped crusader's phone. Nico turns back around and looks at Amara.

ROBIN: That awnser your question?

MUCHACHA: Point taken..

As she says that, the kid begins to wake up, groaning. The two step away to give him some air. He stands tall, and looks around. 

KOUNTERFEIT: Where am I? What is this? Where's the market?

MUCHACHA: Calm down... Patient Z, right?

The boy's eyes locked onto the general, hearing that name triggered great rage, as his tone changed, and polish accent became more hearable.

KOUNTERFEIT: Don't call me that.

MUCHACHA: But that is your name, right? It says on your mask, right there Patient--

KOUNTERFEIT: I said...

he put his hand out, launching a projectile made of blood at the two.

KOUNTERFEIT: Do not, call me THAT!

ROBIN: What the hell?! You were unconscious a few minutes ago and now you're throwing blood at people? Huh, they really do grow up fast.

Amara when seeing the blood, then realizes why she was sent on this goose chase all along.

MUCHACHA: It was you... you're the blood mage we were sent after!

As the boy realized his cover was blown, he tried to run, but Muchacha was too fast. She grabbed him and slammed him into a wall, her eyes quickly changing color, she held her blade up to his throat. Robin and Sabbia, seeing this, quickly get up and pull Muchacha's arms back, as the boy fell on the floor and crawled into the corner.

ROBIN: Hey, hey, what the fuck?! He's just a kid, don't hurt him! You'll scar him for life, as if he wasn't scarred to begin with.

MUCHACHA: LET ME GO, DAMN YOU!

ROBIN: I can't with this. Sabby, could you hold her for a second? 

The reptilian grabs her arms and Robin walks up to the boy, kneeling down, and he looks up at him.

ROBIN: Sorry about the general, she's a bit… aggressive, let's say. I'm sorry if she's a bit rude, she isn't a people person.

MUCHACHA: I can hear you, bastard.

ROBIN: I hope you can hear me! Now, sorry about that, what's your name, kid?

The boy, who was a bit shaken by the experience, responded in a shaky voice.

KOUNTERFEIT: I don't know...

Robin looks back at his not-so merry bunch and then back at the kid.

ROBIN: Well, you don't really fit in with any of us fools. We'll figure something out, though. In the meantime, how 'bout Kounterfeit? 

The boy looked at him with confusion, and the general, who calmed down, responded to the caped crusader with a nod.

MUCHACHA: Do you mind letting me go now?

SABBIA and ROBIN: Yes.

ROBIN: Thanks. Kounterfeit, welcome aboard. And Sabby, you can let her go. She won't do anything. At least, not right now.

as he says that, he gives Amara a look, and the reptilian lets go. The general then punches the reptilian in his chest.

MUCHACHA: Don't touch me, or I'll cut your hands off, understood? Next time you do that, you won't have a tongue, or even a jaw. And then you can eat through a straw for the rest of your miserable existence.

SABBIA: Well, excuse me, your royal arse-ness, I didn't mean to offend. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll be leaving. I'd hate to have you threaten to cut my limbs off. It wouldn't be a wise idea to take an amputee in front of the Kahn, no? 

The general, being a bit surprised by his statement, looks at Robin, who's also a bit shocked. The two turn to look at the reptilian, who is a bit confused. After a minute of silence, the crusader decides to speak. Nico, walking up to the general, speaks with a tone that would make a man's legs tremble. Then Sabbia walks over to Robin.

SABBIA: That's uh... "some bitch" in your native tongue, if I remember correctly?

ROBIN: Yep, you got it. Perfectly said. Also, General, a word. Alone.

the caped crusader gestured Muchacha to the side. the general, being a bit pissed, responded.

MUCHACHA: What is it?

Nico looked at her and started speaking in a low tone, making sure that the other two couldn't hear him. Sabbia was too busy being excited to care while the Nightrider followed him. 

ROBIN: Amara, what the hell was that?! Why did you threaten him like that? I get that you have problems with new people, but that's no reason to threaten to rip off a mans tongue.

MUCHACHA: Look, he was trying to keep me from hurting this brat, I can't afford to show weakness, not even for a second. If you're going to give me a lecture, do it later, we have a Kahn to report to.

Then the boat slowed down, and they stopped at the dock.

MUCHACHA: Speaking of which... we're here. Let's send this wizard and kid to the Kahn, and hopefully I never have to see your face again.

Robin, realizing the rude comment, just looks at her with an expression that reads "well fuck you too, bitch" with a side of spite. Sabbia and Kounterfeit got off the boat, and Robin and Amara went under the deck and pulled out the body of the wizard, and took him off the ship. Amara turned to Kahron, taking out a pouch of coins.

MUCHACHA: Your payment as promised, Kahron. Here. 1000 coins, as promised. Thank you for the service. 

KAHRON: No problem. I'm glad you enjoyed it, and even more glad you paid, because it'll take me and the crew at least 3 days to fix these holes.

The three walk into the town. Robin, looking at the kid and Sabbia, giving off a smile.

ROBIN: Well, you two seem to be getting along nicely.

KOUNTERFEIT: Yeah. Sabbia was about to show me how he goes through the floor.

Sabbia then falls back with his hands crossed, falling into the sand and going through it. He quickly comes back up. Kounterfeit is a bit surprised and jumps a little. Sabbia is glad that someone is interested in his abilities.

ROBIN: Glad you're making some friends, kid.

KOUNTERFEIT: My brother in Christ, I'm taller than you.

Robin looks at the nightrider, who is 5 centimeters taller, and just shrugs.

ROBIN: I don't believe it. 

MUCHACHA: … Anyways, we need to hurry. Just don't do anything stupid.

The crew rode along,  basically backtracking all the way back to the palace

[ask-lab-rats]

Pickle How are U going to let OJ disrespect u like that, If anyone called me a Halfwit the Knife would be in his eyes

"I mean yeah, it hurt but there's a lot going on right now. Besides I'm not gonna hurt him!" - Pickle

[xyziiix]

•𝙻𝙸𝙺𝙴 𝙰 𝚆𝙴𝚂𝚃𝙴𝚁𝙽• V

•PAIRING: mid-honour!Arthur Morgan x Fem!reader•

Summary: Dutch decided now was the time to move in on Colm and the O’Dricolls at their camp near lake Isabella.

WARNINGS: violence, death, use of guns, swearing, Micah 🤮

Not proof read!

Series Masterlist

<<previous chapter next chapter>>

Unfortunately, it seemed as if the wind and snowfall had grown harsher overnight, the force of the cold gale had increased immensely - to the point where your head had to remain downcast for the brim of your hat to shield your eyes.

Artax’s nose was wet and cold, akin to running your bare palm on a melting icicle, the mount whinnied and huffed as you gave him your last oatcakes. You stood at the hitching posts, almost knee-deep in snow. After your horse had finished scarfing down the food, you were quick to re incase the freezing skin of your hands in the warmth of your gloves.

“I know, boy..” you cooed sympathetically as Artax continued to make noises of protest, like Charles had explained to Arthur - this weather was just as hard on the horses. You trail your palm up the side of the mounts neck, your hand gliding across the smooth champagne-pelt that covered the muscled jugular.

“Miss Y/N!” A voice carried through the air, and as you turned to inspect the suspect, you were pleasantly surprised to see Dutch trekking through the deep snow towards you.

“Dutch.” You greeted, moving away from Artax to meet Van Der Linde halfway, his hands were stuffed in his snow-covered coat pockets as he reached you.

“Fine mornin’, don’t you think?” He grinned, keeping his head low to gather as much warmth coming from the collar of his coat as he could.

“That some sorta sick joke?” You scoffed, giving him an uncertain smile as he bellowed out a chuckle.

“Let me rephrase, my dear..” one of his gloved hands left the confines of his pockets to rest on your clothed shoulder, guiding you to face him, “a fine morning for killing Colm O’Driscal.” If you were a rabbit, you’re sure your ears would’ve sprung up at the mention of the infamous bastard’s name.

“Always a fine mornin’ for that.” You agreed, raising your eyebrows as a grin cracked your dry lips.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He nodded, his hand giving your shoulder a clap in approval before re-burrowing itself into his coat, “get yourself ready, I’ll go get the boys.”

You nodded at him before beelining back towards Artax, your boots repeatedly crunching the pristine snow beneath your feet.

You could see out of your peripheral vision that Dutch was making his way to the cabin that housed most of the men in camp, and you knew Arthur was already in there as he’d left the comfort of your bedroom earlier this morning.

You slipped your rifle out of the saddle bag, gently nudging Artax’s muzzle away when he leaned his head closer to sniff and inspect at the item in your hands - probably hoping it was more treats for him. You searched through your satchel, pulling out as many rifle cartridges as you could find.

When you could hear a multitude of voices behind you, you glanced over your shoulder to see the boys approaching the hitching posts to their respectable horses, and your eyes locked onto the burly figure of Arthur as he directed his walk towards you.

“You comin’ with us?” He asked, with the same look in his eyes that he always had whenever you had to ride out on a job with them.

Arthur knew you could handle your own, hell, you could probably handle yourself more than any of the other halfwits in the gang. But it never failed to send a different kind of cold through his body by the idea of you being anywhere near the risk of danger, and he could tell it effected his own performance when on jobs accompanied by you - as he always kept a lingering eye on you at all times to make sure you were safe.

“Yeah. M’not gonna miss the chance t’see Colm get put down..” you swung the strap of the gun over your shoulder, “-once and for all.”

“Don’ blame you for that, you jus’ know that I worry ‘bout you.” Arthur replied, his gaze momentarily darting the the white-blanketed ground. You stopped what you were doing, a smile pulling at your lips - you thought he was utterly adorable.

“Honey..” you sighed, your gloves hands reaching up to clasp together behind the nape of his neck, his eyes bore into yours - nearly losing himself in the enticing colour of them, infatuated by the way you gazed up at him, your eyelashes innocently fluttering against the soft skin of your cheek. “There’s nothin’ to worry about.” You nodded to him reassuringly as his oceanic eyes wandered over your face. “‘Sides, how many times have I had t’save your hide?” A smirk spread your lips.

He tutted at you in feigned annoyance, before his own lips pulled upwards.

“Yeah yeah.. c’mere.” His voice dropped to a hushed tone as his gloved hand lifted to cradle your cheek, the chapped skin of his lips pressing to meet your own in a gentle kiss, the cold tip of his nose bumping into yours-

-“Get a room, would ya?” Bill’s nasally voice cut through yours and Arthur’s moment, his tone laced with irritation and urgency.

Arthur pulled away from you, his cheeks and nose dusted pink - both from the cold and from the contact of your soft lips against his - his eyes shied away from yours as he moved a few paces away to his own mount, grumbling something incoherent at Bill to shut it.

You let out a huff of a laugh to yourself when you saw Arthur’s flustered state, he always grew shy and awkward when members of camp commented on your displays of affection; he didn’t much like to openly show a lot physical displays of intimacy - other than in a saloon when the incessant men who were either drowning in booze or their own arrogance wouldn’t leave you alone - he just thought that those moments were meant to be private, just for the two of you.

You wasted no more time as everyone had slowly started making their way out of camp, Arthur had since mounted his own horse and had stood idly nearby to wait patiently for you.

Like muscle memory, you unhitched Artax and hauled yourself over him, your feet poking through the stirrups and your bottom situating itself in the familiar leather of the saddle. You guided him to follow after the others, Arthur’s horse trailing behind you.

As you all headed further away from the ‘safe’ haven of colter, you felt the snow stick to your hair and the icy wind making tears prickle your eyes.

“Southwest, right, Arthur?” Dutch asked over his shoulder, Arthur had moved past you and was following behind him. Artax let out strong pants as the gangs horses picked up their speed, their hoofs battering in the once-pristine snow as you moved further into the icy terrain once again.

“Yeah. He said follow the main trail southwest. They’re camped near some lake.” Arthur replied, his voice upping in volume so that Dutch could hear him over the rustle of the wind.

Despite the terrain making you all freeze your asses off, you couldn’t deny that the view was beautiful, the white covering the ground and trees glistening in the daylight, it really was something of a winter wonderland.

You felt like you’d been riding for what seemed like hours, finding yourself zoning out, but thankfully the wind had started to die down, and your eyes lasered into the tracks in the snow a short distance away.

“Horse tracks?” You asked rhetorically, Dutch and Arthur already observing the imprints in the snow.

“Quite a few of ‘em.” Dutch confirmed, your eyes following the multitude of hoof prints until they blurred into the distance. “Far as I can tell, the only fools out here are us and them.. they must be this way.”

“Why’re they even out here?” You thought aloud, your speed coming to match beside Arthur’s mount.

“Couldn’t tell ya, god knows what Colm’s plannin’.” Arthur said, trying to scratch the itch in the scruff of his stubble as much as his thick gloves would allow him.

“Well we’ll soon find out.” You added.

“You good, Dutch?” Arthur asked, all of you moving into tow behind dutch again.

“Of course. Listen, I know you don’t think much of my ideas right now, but this is the right move.”

“Okay.. you know I got your back.”

“I learned a long time ago that you hit Colm O’Driscoll. Wait for him and people you love will die.” Dutch continued, his voice trailing off at his last sentence.

“This feud between you and him…” Arthur spoke again, and you sent him an uncertain look, this subject was either a hit-or-miss with Dutch. “-needs to be put to rest, one way or another.”

“It will be.” Bill chimed in after letting out something of a scoff.

“Some things i can forgive, other I can forget. What he did to Annabelle, I can’t do neither.” Dutch said, emotion unintentionally seeping into his words.

“You killed his brother, Dutch.”

“Yes. I did.” Dutch’s voice was full of fire, “And I hope the bastards’ll be reunited soon enough. That’s how this’ll end.”

“Damn right, boss.” Micah’s voice came from behind, and it felt like your entire mood had been thrown off by the reminder that the fool was with you, and as per usual, sucking up to Dutch like some sort of irritating teachers pet.

The horses hooves were dragging through the snow with a little more struggle, a quarter of their legs piercing into the deep snow. And as you rode a little further, you could make out a haze in the sky, vaporising into the cold air with a trail of the darkened mist spiralling upwards from the other side of the hill you were ascending.

“See that smoke?” Almost like reading your mind, Dutch asked. “Let’s cut up here and take a look. They said it was near the lake, so we must be close.” He instructed, and the thought of finally getting off the saddle and stretching your feet made eagerness grow inside you.

You reach the top of the high ground, the snow seemingly deeper and thicker, Artax’s body let out occasional quivers as the cold nipped through his pelt, and though there was nothing you could do in that very moment, you offered him reassuring pats on the side of his neck. You all stopped and waited for Dutch’s next call.

“Alright gentlemen- and lady.” He corrected himself, his arm gesturing to you briefly, “this is it.” He paused, clapping his hands together, the sharp noise muffled by the material of his gloves. “Are we goddamn ready?”

A brief course of “ready”’s came from the boys, and while you opted to not use your voice - fear of your chattering teeth accidentally biting your tongue off from an attempt to speak - you have him an eager nod.

“Good.” He said lowly. “Now, Mr. Morgan and I, we’re gonna head up here a little, see if we can’t get a sense of the layout of the camp.” He explained. “Mr. Williamson, Mr. Bell,” Dutch’s arm outstretched to point to the trees surrounding the small camp, “you two take up a hidden position just outside the camp. Miss L/N, Mr. Summers, Mr. Escuella, you three hold position here.” After giving out his instructions, himself and Arthur dismounted and began to push further up the eminence.

The rest of you followed suit, and your ass felt stiff as a board when you straightened, pain shooting up your dead legs when you unceremoniously hauled yourself to the ground, the snow encasing your legs nearly up to your knees.

“Can’t wait to finally see this son of a bitch croak.” You heard Bill say to no one in particular while you all armed yourselves with whatever guns you’d brought in your saddlebags.

“Don’ speak too soon.” you replied. While you hoped was here - as finishing this bloodshed was long overdue, you knew the numbers Colm had, how many people he had doing his dirty work, so it wouldn’t be entirely impossible that he wasn’t here at all.

“What’s with the doubting?” Micah retorted, you didn’t look at either of them, focusing on properly closing the saddle bag while slinging your rifle over your shoulder - you still rolled your eyes at his inevitable need to comment on anything and everything.

“I ain’t doubting, m’just sayin’ don’t be gettin’ your hopes up just yet, we don’t even know if Colm’s here.” You defended, moving around Artax to stand idly near Lenny while he buisied himself loading his firearm, and when you looked to Bill and Micah, Mr. Bell just scoffed at your response while Bill looked agitated - probably wanting to get right into this.

“He will be.” Williamson said, his voice snappy, with another roll of your eyes at his huffy tone of voice, the pair began making their way down the side of the hillock, leaving you in the much more tranquil and less jarring company of Lenny and Javier.

After a couple of minutes, Dutch and Arthur began making their way back towards the horses and yourselves, both of them practically waddling in the snow - a sight that threatened to erupt laughter from you, if you weren’t feeling so ridden with anticipation. Arthur made his way to his horse, a lingering eye on you as you rubbed your hands together, trying to get as much friction from your gloves at possible. And after Arthur got the gun he needed, him and Dutch followed the trail that Bill and Micah took, following the way which they’d pierced the snow.

“Now.. we wait.” Javier said, a cigarette between his lips, the three of you were moving towards the dip of the hill, wanting to get a better look at the camp below you.

“I can’t wait to get out of this damn snow.” Lenny said, a hum of agreement from Javier.

“Tell me ‘bout it.” You sighed, pulling the strap of your gun so rest it in your hands, you took a minute to familiarise yourself with the weight of the weapon as you scanned the scene for where Arthur might be, while you had a good vantage point, you couldn’t see much inside the various wooden huts and structures scattered on the lower-ground.

You seemed to be waiting for a while, anticipation running through your nerves as the silence grew deafening.

But it seems like you thought to soon, as a single gunshot brought a chorus of firing bullets, the gunshots echoing through the icy clearing. O’Driscolls dashed out of the various huts, the ones lingering outside either taking cover or getting shot down.

“Ok, here we go.” You rushed out, all three of you moving hastily down the hills slope, as you gathered the direction of the closest enemies, you loaded your rifle before speeding up, beelining to some nearby crates. When you felt the security of cover, you kneeled in the wet snow, Lenny and Javier taking position next to you.

Javier took the first shot, aiming at the small group of O’Dricolls set about fifteen feet away from you, all of them distracted by the others in the opposite direction.

When Javier’s Double-action revolver fired, followed by the sound of a man crying out in pain, you readied yourself for the music, while you have a good advantage by taking them by surprise, there were a lot of them that now knew where you were. Just as you suspected, not a second later shots were being fired in your direction, crashing into the wood of the crate you were situated behind.

You pressed the stock of the rifle into your right shoulder, you arms moving like muscle memory, cocking back the hammer and finger on the trigger. You worked fast, all three of you did, as you only had a split second each time to take a shot before bullets came whistling past you - dangerously close for comfort.

When the closest enemies were all down, you knew you had to move closer to the others.

“I’m pushin’ up! Put some fire behind me!” You shouted over the gunfire, before hauling yourself to your feet and sprinting as fast al the heavy snow would let you, Lenny shouting an incoherent answer of confirmation behind you. You let out a breath you’d been holding when your back crashed into the solidity of wood.

You didn’t have great cover here, you were pressed against the side of a very small cabin, the fence to the ‘porch’ to be more specific. There was one bastard on the other side, oblivious to your close proximity as he fired at some wooden structures - where you assumed the boys were.

You looked behind you to see Javier had moved further up from you, Lenny nearby firing from behind a bootless table. The gunfire had grown a little quieter, not so many bullets ringing through the air as you took down O’Driscoll after O’Driscoll, no sign of Colm yet.

Grunting, you pushing yourself off of your sore knees again and fired at the man beside you, the bullet hitting the side of his neck with a powerful force, his head damn near falling off from the blow his jugular took.

When you heard no more shooting, you lowered yourself slightly to scan the area, waiting for the silence to break again.

“I think that’s all of ‘em!” You heard Bill shout, and you never thought you’d be relieved to hear that fools voice. You stood up fully, your arms going slack as you spotted where the rest of the boys were, you trailed behind Lenny as you regrouped.

You didn’t register Arthur fully, your mind clouded with the after-glow of your adrenaline rush, gunpowder heavy in the air. His arm gently grabbed hold of your bicep, guiding you to face him.

“You okay?” He asked, his voice hushed but full of concern.

“M’okay.” You responded, bringing your hand to swiftly smooth over his extended arm.

“Search the bodies, strip everything we can from them!” Dutch ordered, and you both reluctantly separated to make your way to the multitude of fresh corpses surrounding you.

After about four or five bodies, all you had was about six dollars and a silver ring, as well as a half empty carton of cigarettes. Your feet started to drag as you made your way to another, and you felt the tiredness take over: all the riding, the shooting, the cold - you could really go to bed right now.

With a huff you grabbed onto the lapels of the deceased’s coat, not taking much notice of the lack of blood anywhere. You dug through the inside pockets, and found an old pocket watch, turning the rusted metal in your palm.

Suddenly you felt a grip around your ankles, confusion and panic spreading from your chest to your toes, when you looked downwards it was too late - the air being swept under you as you were dragged forward, losing your balance and falling hard on your back, the wind being knocked out of you and your head unmercifully smacking onto the ground.

Darkness spotted your vision as a deep ache spread along your torso, your ears ringing for a minute, you let a low groan and held onto your chest.

The others turned quickly at the sound of your body’s impact on the snow surface, and when Arthur saw you sprawled on the ground in a pain filled haze he felt his stomach drop, panic searing through him when he noticed the culprit to your fall scramble to his knees, a hunting knife gripped in his hand as he inched towards you.

But thank whoever was above, Dutch fired at bastard before he could make any move on you while you were still trying to catch your breath and fully catch up with your surroundings. Arthur wasted no more time and sped over to you, the ache in your body had began to subside, yet your head was still pounding in your ears - you figured the layers of snow didn’t do much to cushion your head.

“Y/N!” Arthur urged, his dropping to his knees in the snow beside you, his hands reaching you to aid you as you attempted to sit up. You felt your vision tip slightly, like you’d spun around in circles and lost your balance, a wave of nausea weighing your head.

You didn’t reply to him, trying to give yourself a second to adjust, the brief sickness you felt washing away with every deep inhale of crisp air you took. You sluggishly glanced to the man beside you, a gaping hole in the side of his head, crimson tainted the white snow around him like splattered paint.

“Son of a bitch..” you groaned, your hands gripping onto Arthur’s arms as you tried to stand up, the same feeling of queasiness appearing and disappearing while you stood fully upright again, stumbling slightly in Arthur’s hold.

“Hey.. take it easy.” He lifted one of his hand to cradle the back of your head, trying to cast aside any pain with gentle pressure- while also subtly checking your head for any visibly trauma.

“M’fine..” you pushed at his hands softly, already feeling better - a lingering headache albeit - but other than that you were fine. “Jus’ got stunned is all.”

“She okay?” Dutch asked, concern laced in his voice as he approached closer, the others lingering nearby.

“All good.” You answered before Arthur could. “Brain feels a lil’ rattled, but m’okay.”

“You recognise any of them, Dutch?” Bill asked when you all made your way back over, Arthur still remaining close to you, his hand on the middle of your back.

“Of course not. Colm doesn’t give a damn about his men.” He answered, sounding as if the answer was in the question was in itself, like it was obvious. “All he cares about is numbers. If you can shoot a gun, and ride a horse, and kill without thought, you’re in.” He explained. “Think how long some of you have been with me?” A gesture to all of you while some finished up with their looting - being extra cautious after your brief incident with a fool pretending to be dead - “I imagine Colm doesn’t even know half the names of these fools.”

More gunfire erupted, the majority of you jumping in your own skin at the abrupt racket, your body tensing again the familiar ‘fight or flight’ mindset.

“Heads up, boys! We got more coming in from the forest!” Dutch hollered as Arthur hurriedly guided you with him to cover behind a broken down wagon covered in snow.

“You gon’ be able to shoot?” Arthur asked hastily, one of his hands gripping your shoulder and the other unholstering his revolver.

“Yes, Arthur.” You groaned at his concern, he nodded at you before moving to the edge of the wagon to scan the area for where the O’Driscolls were scampering out of the trees.

“Alright, cover me!” Arthur ordered as her shot you another glance, without any more instructions, you grabbed your own gun from your belt - quickly realising your rifle was over in the snow where you’d been pulled down - and replaced Arthur’s spot peering from behind the wagon and watching as he sprinted to a crate up in front.

You all held position there, opting to stay behind cover and pick them off as they exposed themselves from the forest rather then go at them head on.

It took a minute, a lot more of them then you all anticipated, but after the relieving silence played while they either dropped into the cold snow or ran off like the cowards they were, you regrouped in the middle of the camp.

“Good work, boys.” Dutch praised while catching his breath, “now, let’s tear this place apart.” He instructed while his Albanian approached, the count nearly blending into the snow. “Bill, you go search that wagon there. Micah, search that building. Arthur, you take that building to the left.” He pointed to various different parts of the camp, you brought your fingers to your mouth to whistle for Artax while making move to retrieve your rifle. “Find those detonators, explosives.. anything you can. Let’s go!”

Artax whinnied as he advanced towards you, and you met him halfway while slinging the strap of your rifle over your shoulder, after you mounted up you observed as Arthur re-emerged from the shelter, Bill close behind him carrying a wooden box with a bundle of dynamite placed on the lid.

“Did we get everything?” Dutch asked as he rubbed his hands together to gain warmth from the friction of his gloves.

“Think so, Boss.” Micah’s overly-eager voice replied, he made his way over to Dutch with a large rolled up paper in his hand.

“Thank you.” He grunted, unravelling the paper to read its continents. “Oh yeah, interestin’…”

“What is it?” You asked, holding Artax’s reins in one hand, the other buried in your coat pocket.

“This is something about the train they was gonna rob.” He replied, taking a second to read further a long before reading a name, “a Mr. Leviticus Cornwall,”

“That’s quite a name.” You shrugged, relaxing slightly in your sitting position on your saddle, bringing your elbow to rest on top of your saddle horn, adjusting the brim of your hat on your head.

“That it is.” Dutch agreed and rolled the paper back into its previous appearance before securing it somewhere in his saddle bag. “Mount back up, let’s keep moving.”

You waited for Arthur specifically to saddle up before following in formation, narrowly avoiding the boxes and various pieces of rotted wooden furniture scattered in the snow - as well as the bodies.

“Proud of you boys! All of you.” Dutch said again as you cantered further away from the now abandoned camp. “How’s that head of yours, Miss L/N? You carried on well considering that was quite a fall you had.”

You slightly rolled your eyes, while you knew he didn’t mean it as it sounded coming out of his mouth, that over-thinking part of you thought he sounded a little patronising.

“M’good, Dutch. Bastard just took me by surprise.” You replied, licking your lips when you felt them beginning to crack from how dried out the biting cold air had made them.

“Finally got some sense knocked into ya ‘bout Morgan?” Micah said sarcastically, nearly snorting at his own quip while you just tensed your jaw in annoyance.

“Tha’s rich comin’ from you, Micah.” Arthur snarled, his eyes burning holes into Micah’s back.

“Now, now. Let’s not finish this on a bad note, we did good, we should all be proud of ourselves.” Dutch cut in before things could escalate. “-Not a man down. Not bad for some starving down-and-outs.” He continued as the horses trekked uphill, the camp growing smaller as you moved further from the clearing, “they can pummel us as hard as they like. But we will always get back up and fight. That’s who we are. Outlaws for life, fellers.” Always the motivational speaker he was. “Wait until we have John, Mac, Charles and Sean back riding with us, and I believe - I know… they will all be back..”

You felt a frown pull at your lips at the mention of their names, you felt horrid to say you’d momentarily forgotten about your lost members, if they were still alive - which you prayed to whomever was in the higher power that they were - you couldn’t even begin to think of how you’ll find them with the mess you were in.

“You didn’t get Colm, but this hit will hurt him a lot more than any bullet in the head.” Arthur stated, a true statement.

“‘Specially when we rob this train, too.” Dutch added, his voice filled with confidence at his impending victory. Your chest warming up when you heard Arthur let out a satisfied chuckle at Dutch.

“Yeah. Guess we’ll see ‘bout that.” He said, glancing at you briefly with a grin.

“Oh, indeed we will.” Dutch agreed, with the same manner of tone in his voice.

You’d zoned out after that conversation, impatient to get back to camp, to cozy up in bed and try to rid of the cold seeping into your bones. You’d all rode in a comfortable silence soon after anyway, all of you basking in your small victory that would lead to an even bigger one when you robbed this Cornwall train.

“Alright, dig in, fellers. Let’s make some ground.” Dutch’s gravelly voice broke the silence, the sky had gotten darker, colder, the horses panting at the long journey they’d been on. Most of them whining at the instruction to pick up speed with the squeeze of your legs, your stirrups digging into Artax’s side as you urged him to move faster.

“Hey, you see that feller? Wasn’t he at the camp with Colm?” Dutch asked, you found yourself becoming alert at his question, and tried your hardest to squint into the foggy and dark air to see what he was talking about.

Sure enough, there was a man with his horse crossing the stream, making noises of panic when he noticed the lot of you coming behind him.

“Leave him to me.” Arthur said, beginning to pick up his speed and move in the general direction of the anxious man.

“Alright, we’re heading back. Just bring him back alive. He could be useful.” Dutch told him.

“Okay, you got it.” Arthur agreed almost nonchalantly, and you watched as he broke out of your formation.

“Be safe!” You called out as he moved further away, you could make out his shadowy figure turn his head to you momentarily, before he galloped away into the fog.

You sighed, feeling tense at watching him disappear into the gloomy terrain, but followed behind Dutch as you made your way back to Colter.

After Charles had insisted on taking Artax to the stable at the gangs arrival, assuring that he’d settle him and get him and the other horses fed. You found yourself in the main cabin where the majority of the others were gathered, - save for some of the boys who’d retreated to bed, the exhaustion winning over - you listened to Dutch tell them how it went at the O’Dricoll camp. And sheepishly laughed and explained when Dutch lightheartedly mention your topple.

After a short while you’d all drifted off into your own conversations, you were sat with Tilly and Mary-Beth, listening to Mary-Beth go on about how she couldn’t wait to get out of here and find some different romance novels to read. You’d registered how Dutch had moved to the window - unsure how he’d bearded anything outside other than the rustle of the wind. When he exited the cabin you waited a minute before excusing yourself from the girls to see if Arthur was back.

When you stepped outside, your nostrils stung from inhaling the harsh coldness of the air, your body shivering after you’d gotten used to the warmth of the fire inside. Dutch and Arthur stood beside a man laying in a ball-like shape in the snow, when you approached you saw Dutch holding the same piece of paper Micah had given him at the camp.

“Welcome to your new home… hope you’re real happy here.” Dutch taunted as he looked down at the hogtied O’Driscoll.

“Who’s our new friend?” You asked, your hand buried into the confines of your coat as you got a better look at him, all kinds of fear and emotion written on his face as Arthur hauled him back to his feet. The scruffy man’s panicked eyes switched between you and Dutch back and forth.

“She asked a question, boy.” Arthur gritted while holding the O’Driscoll in a painful grip, squeezing his hold on him until he let out a broken shriek before he faced was forced to look at you.

“Duffy! Kieran Duffy, ma’am!” He stuttered, stumbling over his own tongue while you scoffed at his pathetically sheeting behaviour, akin to a bunny.

“You want me to make him talk?” Arthur asked, his breath fanning out infront of his face in a small cloud.

“Oh no, now all we’ll get is lies.” Dutch drawled, he rolled up his paper before glancing at the two approaching. “Uncle! Mr. Williamson. Tie this maggot up someplace safe. We get him hungry first.” He instructed as the two came and replaced Arthur’s grip on him, “I got a saying, my friend…” Dutch leaned in closer to the horrified man, “we shoot fellers as need shootin’… save fellers as need savin’… and feed ‘em as need feedin. We’re gonna find out what you need.” His voice was low, drilling more fear into the petrified ‘Duffy’. He broken off into a laugh, retaking his position stood next to you, even reaching out to clap a hand on your shoulder “I can’t believe it… an O’Driscoll!-“ he grinned wolfishly at all of you before beginning to step away, “- in my camp!”

“No! I ain’t an O’Driscoll, mister!” The man rushed out, being dragged away by Uncle and Bill as Arthur came to stand next to you as you both watched him kicking his feet in panic. “I hate that feller!”

“Oh, whatever you say, son.” Dutch replied back sarcastically. Before he turned to you both.

“Well done, Arthur.” He pointed his scroll of paper at your lover, before adding, “both of you, couldn’t have done today without either of you.”

“M’just sorry we missed out on Colm.” Arthur replied, and you half-nodded in agreement.

“Oh there’s time enough for that.” He shrugged his comment off, “now, I gotta figure out if we can hit that train.” He said before retreating back into the main cabin, the door swinging shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone.

“C’mon..” you said, your voice filled with the inevitable exhaustion of a days work, you slung an arm over his shoulder to begin leading him to the direction of your respectable cabin. “Let’s go to bed, m’legs are killin’ me.” You hugged, his arm slithered around your waist as you both stepped through the snow, the wind blowing your hair and whistling in your ears.

“Don’ have to tell me twice, darlin’.” Arthur replied.

A/N: heyyyyy…. *awkward silence*

I’m sorry it’s been ages since I last updated, hope I didn’t piss too many of you off by having you wait. This chapter kinda mid I know, but I want to follow the story line as much as I can but my god does it feel like I’m drooooonnnnninggggg on about the non juicy shit - but it’s worth it in the end, just glad I finally got a chapter out considering how long it’s been.

I can’t wait to get these guys outta colter, while I love the whole story with all my heart.. colter isn’t my top chapter to focus over.

Hope y’all enjoyed ❤️