#you get to use *charles'* bow and *charles'* arrows and hunt in the way *charles* taught you to

[arthursfuckinghat]

I know I've shown it before but I can't stop looking at this picture and smiling to myself without thinking about the fact that Charles taught Arthur how to use a bow.

And not just any bow - Charles' own bow. Even with the rough circumstances they were in at the time, Charles was still patient enough to teach Arthur how to use the bow efficiently. He didn't make fun of Arthur's skill level, he didn't criticize him, he didn't shout or yell at him afterwards, Charles simply guided Arthur and let him learn at his own pace.

If you shoot the deer but it doesn't die? He still helps you. If you miss completely? He still helps you and encourages you to try again. If you need to track down the deer again? He will still help you. He will still help Arthur. This wasn’t just a lesson in hunting; it was a moment of trust and respect.

Charles knew that Arthur was perfectly capable with a gun, but he still taught him an incredibly valuable life skill that day - a skill Arthur eventually honed.

[nutluvs]

not sure if your requests are still open but I'd devour your take on how rdr characters would react to you giving them a hot lunch while they are hunting. Like they are sitting at the top of the hill with a hunting bow in their hands and you sneak up to them, handing them a hot meal prepared for them.

preferred characters are javier, sean and kieran but you can add your favourites as well, I will gladly read your take on that about any character! :)

also don't feel pressured if you don't feel like writing it! much love anyways, have a nice day :))

- 🦎

hot n' ready 🍰 various rdr2 characters x gn! reader

!! divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more ♡ !! hi sweetheart ! i hope you're doing amazing today ! ♡ this is my favorite request i've gotten in ages ! it's so cute. thank you so much for sending it in. ♡ i'm so so sorry it took me so long to write, i've had like.. 0 motivation to write lately, and this is just to get back into it. i'm also very sorry if this sucks and if i didn't portray any of your favorites right, i'm only really used to writing a few characters. synopsis:bringing your dearest some good lunch you made just for him while he's out hunting. pairings (in order): ♡ charles smith ♡ arthur morgan ♡ javier escuella ♡ eagle flies ♡ sean macguire ♡ kieran duffy ♡ john marston ♡ the boy warnings: none, this is just fluff !! mentions: @pursuedbyamemoryy @deaddoedonoteat

charles smith:

he didn't expect it. at all.

although, that doesn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

when you crept up to him, his focus was entirely on the doe, whose head was tipped down to nibble at the grass beneath her hooves.

as soon as you prodded at him with the tip of your finger, he jolted and made a discontented, uncomfortable sound.

he was quick to whip around to see who it was, gripping his bow a little tighter, but when he realized it was you he visibly relaxed almost instantly.

he greets you and asks you what you have in your hands, disregarding the doe immediately. you were more important.

"a warm lunch, just for you. i know pearson's meals aren't so satisfying to eat, especially since they lack seasoning and any variation, so i made something of my own. i also made myself something, that way, we could have some lunch together.

when you say that, he feels his face go warm.

he has to clear his throat before attempting to tell you that you didn't have to do this for him and that he didn't want to be a waste of time, but you were quicker, promising him that he deserved a break from low quality food and that he deserved something nice.

so, now understanding you were absolutely sure, he takes his warm lunch from your hands with a smile, and you eat together underneath the shade of a tree, sharing conversation and warm, loving smiles.

arthur morgan:

he was a bit frustrated.

he had tried to get his hands on this damn buck for so long, but every time he'd try and shoot, the thing would get spooked off by quickly passersby.

so now, here he was, sat atop a hill, grumbling to himself about how irritating the prey was, fidgeting with an arrow and trying to calm himself down.

he had heard hoofbeats on the grass and quickly turned to see who it was, and as soon as he saw your face, all of his anger was gone. he put the arrow he held down onto the grass with his bow, and watched you approach. he noticed you had something in your hands.

"hey, darlin'. what's that you got in your hands?" he asks, watching you sit down beside him with a bit of a smile present on your features.

"some lunch for you. made it myself." you say, smiling bigger. "i figured you'd like something that isn't as bad as pearson's cooking... so i made that something."

arthur was a bit shocked, taking it from your hands when you held it out to him. he looked from the box up to you, unsure. "i don't deserve this, darlin', it's.. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to."

this makes his face go red, because he wouldn't really figure someone would want to do something like this for him. but it made him happy, and he really enjoyed your cooking. who knew you were so good?

javier escuella:

he's more of a fishing guy, so that might make it a little harder for you to reach him, but that doesn't deter you.

he went down to the dakota river to do some fishing, and he asked you to tag along, but you initially said no. he was a little sad about that.

however, when he was in the middle of wrapping a smallmouth bass so he could return it to camp, you prodded at his shoulder, causing him to yelp and drop the fish.

you apologized quickly, but he was quick to put the apology down. he wasn't mad at you, he could never be. plus, he insisted he should've been more aware of his surroundings.

after that, you handed him the lunch you made.

"querida, what's this?" he asks, inspecting it closely, as if unsure. it wasn't like you'd give him something that'd kill him, so he stopped his looking.

"a lunch i made for you, since pearson's cooking tastes like shit."

"it has a few of the meals you told me your mother used to make you, and i wanted to sorta give you some sense of home. i hope my cooking is as good as hers, and that i captured the flavors right."

his heart warms, and he feels a bit of a hitch in his breath. you took the time out of your day to make him one of the dishes from home? oh, you were just the sweetest.

he holds the lunch carefully as he brings you into a hug and kisses your cheek, thanking you before quickly sitting down to enjoy what you picked to make him.

eagle flies:

today's hunt had been very successful, and he was proud of that.

he had managed to shoot down some rabbits, and he wanted to finish off a deer as well. he found it most refreshing when he did this.

when you came over the hill, he was poised to shoot, rough fingertips pulling back on the string of his bow.

you decided to stay quiet, watching him release the string and puncture the unaware doe's neck. you smiled when he released a pleased sigh, standing to go collect the arrow and the fresh kill.

"that was a good one," you say, spotting him turn and smile right back at you. "thank you." he replies. he'd known you were there, but he had already gotten the opportunity for a perfect shot, so he didn't greet you despite how bad he'd wanted to.

you watched him pluck the arrow from the carcass and hoist it over his shoulder, bringing it back to his horse before helping you down from yours.

"so, why'd you come?"

"made you something." you say, handing him a small box lunch. "you deserve a treat for all of the hard work you've been doing lately. i know it's the least i could do for such hard work, but i was in a rush."

eagle flies smiles at the gift, his heart fluttering. "thank you, my love. i appreciate this a lot. i've always liked your cooking." he says, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, before sitting down to eat the meal you made specially for him.

sean macguire:

he didn't know why he came on this hunting trip. hunting irked him.

he wasn't even all that good at focusing on the prey, let alone shoot it in a vital spot to kill it. he wouldn't admit that, nor the fact that he'd rather be doing something more entertaining.

he just about tossed away the bow, but you twined your arms around him in a hug and gazed up at him, a smile on your lips.

"hi honey." you say gently, "i brought you something to eat. hunting isn't your forte, and i know you like my cooking. maybe it'll calm you down."

sean stared at you for a moment, his expression flat before it grew a bit embarrassed, "i can hunt just fine!" he snapped, and you laughed. "i saw the anger in your face, honey, you hate it. here."

you pushed the box meal into his hands, and he wasn't going to deny this. as you said, he loved your cooking. he'd never say otherwise... even if he didn't like the flavor of something, he was the biggest fan of your meals and would eat up the whole plate.

he was quick to slump down underneath a tree with you, blabbering on about his day with you leaning against his shoulder. he didn't have any manners when eating, but that was fine. at least he was back to being happy.

kieran duffy:

he prefers being back at camp with the horses, let's just say that.

he didn't like the idea of hurting animals, preferring to take care of them. so, he purposefully made this a bad hunt.

he didn't even know why they asked him of all gang members to go out and hunt... although, he'd still try. he wanted them to trust him at least a little bit more. he wasn't just some o'driscoll..

he sat crouched behind a bush, expression a bit worried as he aimed the bow he borrowed at an unaware rabbit.

when he let go of the string, he jolted back, the squeaky, high-pitched sound from a pained bunny not meeting his ears. only the sound of panicked scuttling and the small thud of an arrow.

"oh..." he sighed, a bit displeased with himself. although, he sorta preferred that he didn't kill something so innocent.

"kieran?"

the sound of your voice caused him to jolt once again, and he looked up at you. "o-oh, hey, darlin'.. um, i uh.."

"i see you haven't caught yourself anything."

"nope.." he mumbled, gaze straying elsewhere. he listened to your soft laughter as you sat down beside him. "that's okay," you promised, earning his eyes on you again, "don't worry. i'll catch something later. anyway, i brought you something."

when you handed him a box, he felt the warmth seep into his palms. he looked at it, then at you. "what's this?"

"some lunch. i made it specially for you, you deserve a break from all that harassment they give you. even though it's not much, i thought you might like it."

kieran blushed at this, putting the box on his lap and managing a small-voiced "thank you."

you made him feel so dizzy, so stupid in love. but he liked that. he liked it a lot.

john marston:

he was pretty self confident in today's hunt.

he'd managed a few kills, a deer and some birds. nothing too big. but he was still pretty proud. and with this confidence, he felt he'd be good with another kill.

however, as soon as he plucked an arrow to shoot with, he noticed you coming up the hill. he was quick to smile all dumb, shoving his bow and arrow away.

when you came over the hill, you halted your horse, looking to him as he made his way over to you and pulled you from your horse.

you noticed quickly that he was in a good mood, as he began to swing you around when you were in his arms. "there's my angel! how are you doing?" he asks, nuzzling you as he sat you down, listening to your giggles.

"great! i don't think i have to ask you how you are..." you tease, before stepping slightly back from him. "made you a little something, by the way.

this caught his attention, and he raised a brow, "what's that?" "made you a lunch, with your favorites." you said as you handed him the lunch. "i figured you'd like it. you've told me about two million times that my cooking's your favorite." holy shit, was this day going good. john was through the roof now.

john grinned like the idiot he was and took the box from you. "thanks, my angel. always did like your cooking, you do it real good. i always wonder who taught you." he admits, wrapping you up in his arms again, careful not to spill what he has in his hands. you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw, "i try, and i'm glad my hard work is met with a good product."

"mmmhm. now, wanna sit down and share?"

the boy:

he wasn't usually the type to hunt.

however, today, he went out hunting, and it wasn't going so good. he ended up pouting on the forest floor, leaning against a tree.

"honey?" you call out, which distracts him from his moping. he looks like he lightened up a bit, but not as much as you hoped. you sighed when he looked back to his hands.

"not much of a result, huh, love?" you ask, dismounting your horse and approaching him. you squatted down beside him, putting a hand on his cheek and tipping his head up. he grunted a "no."

"huntin's stupid. i'm the best 'round here, but these damn animals.." he huffed. you only smiled softly, leaning in close to him and pressing a kiss to his temple. "will this cheer you up?" you ask, putting a small box in his hands.

he looked at you, confused, blue eyes searching your face and waiting for an explanation.

"it's lunch i made for you. i know you're not the biggest fan of hunting, so i decided i'd make you a lunch to cheer you up... and before you ask if there's any watermelon, yes, i put watermelon in it."

he grinned dumbly, his face growing warm and dusting with a rosy color, leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the nose. "thanks, i always did like your cooking... makes me feel better 'bout this."

"oh, i know. you're blushing all silly."

"i ain't!"

here's this! i hope this suffices for my first post in 8 centuries. i hope you enjoyed, have a nice day! love you guys ♡♡♡♡

[tinyfishtits]

Maybe a micah x reader where the reader has been with the gang for a long time but was only ever close to Arthur as like a sister brother type relationship so in colter she(or they) feel left out and outlasted and micah comforts them?

Oop it took me forever to answer this 🫣 lol but thanks for the req!! and for more Colter Micah !!! I hope you like it 😘❣️

I was out warming myself by the fire when a commotion broke out in the men’s cabin. Dutch was quick to intervene, scolding them like children. Saying they should be saving their energy for the O’Driscolls. Arthur was the first to leave the cabin at Dutch’s command and I was right by his side. 

“You’re goin’ after them? Now?” I asked, following closely as he headed for the horses. He just grunted in reply. 

Arthur had been running around doing errands since we got here. Back in Blackwater he would ask if I wanted to join him before he went off hunting or on a job. He had taught me most of what I knew of shooting, riding and robbing, we had been almost inseparable before… well, before. 

“I’ll come with-” I started but he whirled on me.

“No.” He said firmly, “This ain’t like Blackwater.” 

“But I can help! I’m a good shot, you know it!” 

“Dammit woman, No!” He shouted the last word at me and I froze. He’d never yelled at me before… “Just… Go help Grimshaw.” He murmured as he mounted his horse. 

Blush burned at my cheeks, water welling up in my eyes in response to the curt tone he’d taken with me. As if I was just a useless, pestering child. Like I hadn’t saved his ass on multiple occasions. The other men glanced between us as they saddled up but said nothing. 

“The snow’s made you a real ass, Morgan!” I yelled out to him as he trotted away. He didn’t so much as turn his head to look at me as they rode off. 

I was fuming. When I reluctantly turned back toward the cabin, a whinny from the stable beside me caught my attention. Pushing through the barn doors I found a lone Shire horse left behind, one that we used for pulling wagons. Approaching the large, strong horse… I got an idea. 

I made quick work of saddling the beast and started off after them, though I barely made it to the river just outside of camp when Charles called my name. I expected him to stop me, to demand I listen to what Arthur had said. Instead, he trudged through the snow to my horse and handed me a bow and arrows.

“You’ll get more use out of this today than I will…” Was all he said before heading back to camp. He didn’t baby me like the others. Didn’t tell me to be careful or expect me to stay back doing women's work, didn’t treat me any different from the men. I didn’t know the man well, but I appreciated that much about him.

I started off, following the tracks the large group had left in their wake. Despite Arthur’s insistence that this job was different from those we’d worked before, I didn’t find myself second guessing my decision to follow. Though the gunfire that soon erupted in the distance did stifle my confidence a bit. I knew it had to be a decently big job given the amount of men that had ridden out with Dutch, but what I stumbled upon was a full on battle. 

I found the gang’s horses at the end of the path that overlooked an old, abandoned settlement, much bigger and in better shape than the one we had made camp in deeper in the mountains. It was already littered with bodies and blood… I could only just make out Arthur in his big blue jacket kneeling behind a wagon, taking fire from the few left in a cabin at the far end of the camp. 

The others were spread out thin around the settlement, taking out stragglers that were fleeing into the forest. Quickly, I dismounted and made my way to the winding path that led down the cliff’s edge. I’d made it most of the way, unseen by both my fellow gang members and the O’Driscolls, until the galloping of horses sounded in the surrounding forest. 

“Look out! More of the bastards comin’ outta the trees!” Dutch’s voice boomed. And all of a sudden I was being hounded with gunshots. I dropped on my stomach, bullets spraying out above me. Crawling the last few yards to the treeline, I took cover behind some crates as I loaded my pistol.

“The HELL are you doin’ here?” Arthur’s furious voice broke through the gunfire.

I didn’t give him the satisfaction of arguing. Without hesitation, I sprinted for the trees, taking out two gunmen that had just jumped from their horses in the process. I snaked my way through the sparse foliage, popping out behind the cover of tree trunks to pick off the O’Driscolls one by one.

When I ran out of bullets I switched to the bow, which I wasn’t nearly as skilled with, but managed to take down a couple more despite my fumbling. Silence fell over the forest, the shuffling of men and horses replacing that of the gunfire. I noticed Micah behind the tree nearest me, quickly shooting down the few stragglers that were attempting to flee. I caught his eye and he gave me a small, approving nod and a smirk. 

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” Arthur spat at me, gripping me by the arm and yanking me back toward the horses. I dug my feet into the snow, trying to pull away from him but the man was too damn strong. 

“Arthur- Let go of me!” I yelled, fighting against his grip. He released me suddenly and I stumbled back, falling on my ass. His chest heaved with panting breaths, the anger he felt in that moment practically radiating off him in waves as he towered over me. But when I fell, sprawled out on the snow before him I saw the briefest flash of regret wash over his expression. 

“Knock it off you two!” Dutch's voice called back from the settlement, “Arthur! We’re not done here!” Arthur’s face clenched, reeling in his frustration before turning back to join the rest of the gang without so much as a word to me. 

Tears welled up in my eyes again and I cursed myself for being so hurt and embarrassed by his scolding… I started to push myself up from the snow when a hand shot out in front of me. Micah was standing over me, that smirk still on his face, his hand outstretched.

“I won't bite darlin’” He teased and I rolled my eyes, taking his hand and letting him hoist me back to my feet. Clearing his throat he continued, “That was some fine shootin’.” 

“I don’t need your pity, Bell.” I bit back, anger still coursing through my veins. He didn’t deserve it, well, not in this moment at least… But I couldn’t hide the frustration boiling up inside me. Though it didn’t seem to phase him in the slightest.

“Morgan’s really got under your skin, huh?” He chuckled… and he was right, of course. I let out a sigh. The day Micah Bell showed more compassion and understanding than any of the other gang members was not a day I ever thought I’d live to see.

“He’s…” I didn’t know whether I wanted to defend or condemn his actions and just ended up clenching my jaw. Micah chuckled. 

“Hell, you can’t even badmouth the bastard after that whole display?” He scoffed, waving a hand between me and where Arthur had stormed off. 

“I just- I don’t know what changed. You didn’t know him before, he was… different.” 

“Alot's changed, doll.” He said simply, the teasing tone of his voice gone. “I ain't been with you long but even I can see that.”

My face scrunched up as I tried not to think of all that had passed within the last week. Those we’d lost… the dream we’d once been chasing that now felt as if we were actively running away from, the hope we’d left behind in blackwater. The tears that had been collecting in my eyes finally fell and I cursed, turning away from Micah. He didn’t mock me or leave, he just… let me cry. 

“God, I feel so fucking stupid I just… wanted to help” 

Micah huffed a sigh, “You did help, did a damn good job of it too. The fact that Morgan couldn’t see it just proves how dim that cowpoke really is.” 

I shook my head, wiping the tears from my face. “Thanks.” I laughed, though the sound didn’t hold much humor. He grunted in reply. 

“I ain’t used to women cryin’ over another man in my presence… it’s kind of refreshing.” He joked, and I let out a genuine laugh. 

“Well, it’s good to know one of yall’s still the same ole’ ass you always were.” I replied, my words more playful than biting. He gave me his signature smirk and I couldn’t help the smile that grew on my lips in reply. 

We walked back to join the gang - who had already gotten whatever it is they’d looted the camp for - in companionable silence. I found myself feeling more at peace in his presence than I had with anyone in quite some time…

If you liked this, check out my other Micah works!

★ My Masterlist ★

[johndeerequeer]

Chapter 8

The Spoils of War

Masterlist

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Warning: hunting, skinning, and vomiting (can you tell Mads has a weak stomach?)

Read on Ao3

“You got plans today?” Mads asked Charles as she saddled beside him.

He paused his meal, caught somewhat off guard.

“That depends,” he replied, “you got something in mind?”

“I want you to take me hunting.”

He turned to face her and considered it for a moment.

“You like hunting?”

“No,” she replied, “but, uh, I want to try.”

“Okay” he thought for a moment again. “why me?”

She paused.

“I’ve seen you coming back with your spoils. I know you’re good at it.”

He nodded and then smirked.

“Don’t go getting a big ego. I just figured if I’m gonna learn, I should learn from someone who’s been at it for a while.”

“Learn from the best, you mean?”

She hit his arm. He chuckled.

“You gonna let me come with you or not?”

“Of course. But I'm not going easy on you. You’re skinning everything you hit.”

Her eyes shot to him as he stood.

“It’s all a part of the process. We use everything, no wasting. So you’ve gotta learn," he said. "every bit.” 

She nodded, though the thought made her stomach turn.

“We’ll head out in a bit. Go have some food. We may be out for a while.” he instructed. 

She settled at the table with a bowl of soup as Arthur approached her. Her eyes flicked up to him. 

“Morning,” he offered.

“Morning.”

“What were you talking about with Charles?”

“We’re going hunting.”

He nodded, watching her expression. They sat for a moment in silence. 

“What are you doing today?” she asked quietly between spoonfuls.

“It’s the mayors’ party tonight,” Arthur replied, “Hosea says we’re in the business of social climbing now it seems.”

She nodded.

“Until then I was just thinking of pissing you off for the day, but I guess that plan is shot.”

She snorted and coughed on her soup. He chuckled and brought himself to his feet.

“Alright, I'll leave you be,” he said, “be safe today.”

She nodded. He began on his way.

“Arthur?” she called after him.

She didn’t want him to leave, but she couldn’t bring herself to make him stay.

“Yeah?”

“Have a good day today.”

He smiled, as warm as the summer heat.

“You too, darlin’.”

Charles led Mads around Bolger Glade, a dilapidated civil war battlefield, as their first stop. It wasn’t far from camp and provided ample open space for spotting targets.

“Let’s hitch the horses here,” Charles said as he dismounted, “Best to keep some distance. We don’t want to spook them.”

She dismounted, paying particular attention to her form. She landed hard, the familiar stinging ache spread through her feet, but she pushed through it. 

“Here,” Charles gestured her over, “I’ve got supplies for you.”

He undid the straps on his saddle and handed her a bow and quiver with a good handful of arrows.

“A bow?” I was gonna use the repeater.”

“A bow is quieter. We’re gonna gather more animals by not scaring off the rest.”

She nodded with a small frown. 

“I’ll teach you. You’ll do fine,” he assured her, “You just gotta be willing to learn.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” she sighed.

They equipped the rest of their things and made their way toward the fields. It was pretty, in a haunting sort of way. She could feel the history of the place echoing around her. She took it all in as they walked quietly. 

“So, tell me about yourself,” she offered. 

“What about me?” he replied. 

She sighed.

“Just, you, I guess.” she offered. 

He didn’t say anything. She sighed again.

 “How’d you end up with the gang?”

“They found me in the grizzlies about 7 months ago.”

She waited for more details, but they never came. She rolled her eyes.

“I see,” she answered, her voice laced with sarcasm.

“Hit and skin something, and then I’ll tell you more,” he said.

She scoffed.

“Fine.”

They stalked silently through the abandoned trenches, waiting to catch sight of their prey. She had seen things scurry by, too fast to identify, and it wasn’t until a few minutes later that they happened upon a fox. It was cantering around some bushes, most likely stalking prey of its own.

“Alright, you’re up,” Charles told her, his tone hushed so as to not scare it off, “nock an arrow, and then I’ll show you how to hold the bow.”

She fished out an arrow from the quiver and brought the tail to her right hand which sat loosely on the string.

“Alright now, bring it outward in front of you on your left. You’re gonna be standing sideways from your target, almost like you’re trying to stay out of the arrow's path as it lets loose. Stand firm, you use your strength to keep still as you aim.”

He demonstrated the form with his own bow as she watched intently, and then gave it a try herself.

“You got it. Now line it up, and draw back the string with these fingers. As far back as you can pull it.”

She did as he instructed. She struggled to keep the bow still. Her muscles weren’t trained enough to keep so taut. She lined up the arrow with the fox as best she could and then let it loose. It shot just above it, sailing over its head and scaring it off. She sighed.

“It may take a while,” he said, “but you’ll get there.”

They continued on their way and came across another fox.

“You want me to take this one?” he asked. 

She nodded.

With the ease, strength, and speed of a lion, Charles pulled out an arrow, nocked it, lined up with his target and released it, all in the span of a breath or two. The fox fell instantly.

“Am I meant to be moving as fast as that?” she asked incredulously.

“Not yet. That comes with practice. Take your time when you can, you’ll eventually gain the strength to move quickly.”

“Now when I gain that strength, is it gonna come with all those muscles like you got? I’m not sure I can pull that off as well as you do.”

He chuckled.

“Not sure. Maybe if you go at it hard enough,” he replied, “now let’s get that fox skinned.”

He talked her through the skinning as she tried her best not to look away. Once he was done, he stowed the pelt and meat in his bag, wrapped up in cloth. They continued on until they managed to spot a small pack of coyotes.

“Alright, here's your chance. Slightly bigger target this time,” Charles said.

She drew an arrow and got into position. She tried to breathe deeply and get a hold of her twitching arms. Finally, she let loose the arrow. It hit the coyote square in its back leg with a yowl as the rest scattered. It fell to the ground, whining in pain.

“What do I do?” she breathed, stomach filling with dread.

“You finish it,” he said as he pulled out a knife and extended it to her.

She stared back at him.

“I-”

“You asked to come hunting. This is a part of it sometimes. It needs to be done.”

She took the knife with a grave nod and brought herself to her feet. He followed after her.

“Do it quickly. A quick stab into the throat will do.”

She stood above the coyote, knife in hand, like the grim reaper with his scythe. She moved quickly in the hopes she could get it done before her mind registered what was happening. She brought the knife down firmly into its throat. Roscoe’s face flashed through her head. The memory in her body of bringing the letter opener to his throat gripped her. Her stomach churned.

“You did it.” He commended her. “Now it’s time for skinning.”

She took a deep breath and brought the knife out of its neck. The sight of the blood dripping from its neck was making her woozy. She groaned as she tried to keep her balance.

“Nice and easy, just like I showed you,” he said. “You can do this.”

She brought the knife down and began to slowly and steadily drag it across the coyote’s skin. She’d made her incision all along the body as he’d shown her.

“Now pull back, and start to loosen it with smaller slashes,” he instructed. “We want to keep the pelt intact as best as possible.”

The sound it made as she pulled the skin back rang in her ears. Her vision blurred.

“I think I'm gonna be sick,” she warned. 

Just as the words left her mouth she felt it creeping up her throat. She dropped the knife and moved away. She began to retch and empty the contents of her stomach on the ground a ways away from the body.

“Take your time.” Charles offered gently. 

She finished vomiting and wiped her face.

“I’m sorry,” she said sheepishly.

He shrugged.

“Don’t worry about it. It happened to me the first time my father took me hunting.”

She chuckled.

The rest of the process was quick. She gathered the pelt and meat as he had and stowed it in her satchel.

“Alright, I've spilled my guts, it’s time to spill yours,” she joked.

He chuckled.

“Fair enough.”

[marvelsfavoriteuncle]

Heheh I gotta add the Mister Underwood thread somehow! Hehe

———

Alias - nightshade, verdant

Raised by his parents to be the living twister shell of his father’s life, Jason had no choice but to grow up fast enough and live up to his expectations.

His mother was a genius and his father composed respect, when they died, they left no instructions just for his children to be educated in faith hands. Dottie believed in one thing, order and rule, meanwhile Jason was resigning to believing in the vast majority of power and influence.

Was it correct? No. Was it fair for others? Yes.

His sister was a mad woman, ready to slip in and seduce anyone in her grasp. Man, women and everyone who was around to fall into her arms. He wasn’t far behind, due to his charm and appearance, Jason didn’t have to do much of anything but one single look and you were a melting mess in his hands.

Due to their lack of knowledge, the siblings—well more likely Jason—were trained. Knives, spears, arrows, rifles and other equipment available within reasonable distance. Required resources and supplies included, making him the more stable one out of the two. Knowing language ranging from English, Spanish to Russian, he was valuable. He had a way of slipping through tight spaces, often knocking out guards and taking shots at defending players who he seemed capable enough for his own teammates.

However his favorite being his bow and arrow, shooting from a distance corner straight into one’s backside. But given the opportunity, he is up high in the middle of the night with a rifle and shooting down victims from afar, making others scream shades of shock and despair.

Over the years, in the dangerous environment where survival rates are low and people were forced to be trapped or exposed to experimental treatments, men and women being hunted down for their sexuality, genetic backgrounds and future offspring—Jason made it his job to remain anonymous and drug users from the streets into safe havens. Did his sister agree to this? Of course not, she thought that she had the right to fuck around and find out what she could do in this situation. Which meant Jason often found Dottie banging some chick in the corner or flirting her way through run down places to get her cut of the table.

Though training, understanding and practice Jason often found himself with people who either did him good or harm. He was the silent type and oftentimes subjected to a variety of challenges, including once being exposed to a certain degree of unlabeled drugs during a contract kill. He wasn��t particularly pleased by the affect of the drug, considering him almost lost the cut of the money trying to earn a way in saving a few helpless children from the lab that day, however he was slightly thankful for it. Cause when woke up, he noticed he had more ability to make himself useful and quickly learned to be careful that day.

All that mattered was getting the young teens somewhere, with thanks to Natasha and Logan, they were brought to Charles and Erik’s large home for the refugees in passing.

Due to Jason’s reputation, some saw him as a potential target and others felt he was a good player for the new world being built.

Some saw him as a Bounty Hunter, in response to his calm demeanor and sincerity toward others, especially when he does contract negotiations. Which is how he met his wife, she was a bounty that was supposed to be brought in, but after some misunderstanding and misleading statements—he did not have the heart to do it. Instead he honored himself and her wishes, by giving her a place on the team. As an engineer, she was more than willing to accept the offer and respect from him.

From that day onwards, Jason led a strong life with honor, honesty and integrity in his work more than he did before. Often in the midst of the night and shadows, he did his best to keep the spirits alive helping others to safety.

Yes, he got caught and brought into custody beforehand, some even took his blood and destroyed his home. In his eyes, he lost his wife and ability to have children, not wanting to bring any more innocent lives into this world…or so he thought. ;) maybe they survived somehow??

There was always hope for the future and themselves…

A part of him died, if anything else, a shell of the man who was shot inside him before was broken into pieces once again. His parents, sister, family members and others were taken from him. He still saved lives and brought in bounties whenever possible, however his kills were never reported to be rushed or retrieved as gentle.

You can often find him sharpening his arrowheads in the corner, biting down on whatever food he found pleasing to him and barking back a scoffed as he rolls his eyes.

Like said before, he was a man who was trained and respected, yet silent and subjected to severe criticism. Being overlooked by others or wanting to be exposed by the media itself. Despite the obvious lack of awareness or understanding in the context of the issue, along with the darkness and desire in the air, Jason grappled with trying to stay positive in the midst of it all.

That there has to be hope and light at the end of the tunnel, the children will have a better chance of survival than those without.

——

Ahh I did it! Hope you like it

Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 1 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @meiramel @trulysummersprivate and etc

Apocalyptic AU ⛓️📻🧬

—

- Lt. Amelia Morse (Morozov)

Code name ~ Tempest/Huntingbird

Niece of Captain Lance Hunter and Mockingbird within the rebellion against the Villains of The Empire City

Child of a divorced couples :(

Many families and friends were left behind or gone, others stayed with her at home. She has plenty of memorabilia and books to keep herself rescued. Such as the jewelry she wears.

Always wearing her earbuds, favorite black jacket, combat boots and leggings. Often carrying a handheld camera and gun in her pocket.

Abilities — Pathokinesis ~ The power to sense and perceive the emotions of others.

Amelia is often seen as reluctant, resourceful and willing to take the leap to make sure that everyone is safe. Despite that she’s kindhearted, patient, generous, witty and passionate on occasion.

Even if she is seem like a respectable strong young woman to many, she is often an over thinker and panics easily, if something happens incorrectly. Which leads to her bitting her nails and shifting uncomfortably among peers, if she’s nervous.

When she’s not on the field collecting items, scratching up folks into alleyways so they get caught and exploring new areas to find resources/refigure a better way—she’s at the bunker resting up.

At the bunker she’s sharing stories, stocking up on food and other medicine just in case.

Making sure everyone is alright and feeling comfortable, as she makes sure blankets and beds are available, turning on old TVs for entertainment.

——

— I might add more later who know?

————

Who’s next? ⚙️

-> Tags: @ask-starrk @missstrawbs2001 @purpleprincessonfyre @wizzzardofoz @thechoooooosenone @rickb-chaos @luna-d-marsh @marvelsfavoriteuncle @elzabeth-stark @sci-fi-lexcon @jackiequick @blueboirick @gcthvile @aidanxsophxoxo @meiramel @trulysummersprivate and etc

[eaaaazygurl]

Take A Gamble That Love Exists (Part 2 of 2)

Read last post for the first part of the story!

Morning arose as fast as it had taken for the liquor to drift you into a sleep. Once again you found yourself locked up against Arthur's broad chest, feeling the subtle rise and fall as he slept. You attempted to face him as you did the last time, only to suddenly realise half of his chest had been exposed, the buttons upon his union suit not resting within the slits upon the fabric to hold itself together.

You found yourself staring. You hadn't ever came face to face with a man as strong and burly as Arthur, covered in a fine layer of dark chest hair that you seemingly appreciated. He was certainly broad and toned with years worth of living as an Outlaw. It really did show.

Shaking the strange thoughts from your head, you shuffled awkwardly out of Arthur's grip and scampered out of the tent. Arthur didn't stir. The whisky certainly had him out cold. You guessed you'd be able to make use of the downtime and take a small trip around the valley's purple glade to hunt, seeing as Coyotes had made a meal of your Pronghorn that you had forgotten all about in your drunken state.

The valley was particularly beautiful this morning. The presence of spring brought a fine layer of sparkling rainbow dew drops that rested peacefully against undisturbed petals, a coat of spider webs creating a wonderful crystalline pattern as those fine strands too held onto the orbs of liquid. The little stream traversed downward, a light gurgling sound trailing from it as it made it's slow downward decent. The sun, whilst still holding it's sharp winter hue, finally had some semblance of heat. Still, it wasn't enough to go whipping your jacket off over, however much you appreciated the delicate warmth against the skin of your face.

You gave the leather strap a gentle tug at the reins of your steed, signalling him to hault. Just ahead of you were three Whitetail doe. With grace you slipped from the saddle of Starstreak, grasping the fine wood of your improved bow and a few arrows you had crafted a few days prior. A rather large boulder thankfully sheltered you, invisible by sight, though you still had to tread carefully. Deer had excellent hearing, and you didn't want to miss the opportunity.

Pulling back your arm with arrow in hand against the surface of your bow, you stifled a breath, closing an eye to get a better aim. The doe you aimed at had an immaculate pelt, you could use this to sell for a quick cash strap on your way back to the Heartlands.

You let your heart relax and your mind go blank, letting out a slow breath of air before your fingers released the arrow. The whistling sound of the arrow cutting through the air came to a standstill, a curdling squeal alerting you. The doe had gone down, dead in an instant whilst her two partners began to make haste for the shelter of woodland.

"A clean shot through the eye as always, Starstreak."

Stowing the catch, you made your way back to camp. In the distance you could just make out Arthur's figure hunched over the weak flames, a cup in hand.

"I forget you can't function without your morning coffee," Laughing softly you hitch Starstreak up, slipping off of the saddle and giving the stalion a gentle brush, tugging the doe from his rump.

Arthur took a careful sip, eyeing up the catch with an impressed grin, "Right through the eye?"

"You betcha," responding with a wink you placed the deer onto the ground, unsheathing your hunting knife, "how much longer did you wanna stay?"

"Forever." Arthur replied with a huff of amusement, drawing in another mouthful of the bitter black liquid.

"Dutch would have your head," You drew the knife into the stomach of the doe.

Arthur pursed his lips and sighed, nodding heavily, "Yeah no doubt about that. He'd have Charles track me down, best person for it." Arthur set himself back into a more comfortable position, "Charles was the one found Clemens Point. Originally we was gon' settle for Dewberry Creek,"

"That dried up riverbed on the outskirts of Lemoyne?" The knife split a perfect line down the stomach and towards the rear legs.

Arthur hummed a yes, shrugging, "Yeah tha's the one. Don't know what Micah and Dutch were thinkin'. Pinkertons would be able to pick us off like rabbits."

"It floods, too. Lemoyne is usually dry, rain hardly falls here but when it does, it pours. I was stuck out there once, Emil had to lasso me before I was swept away." You began on skinning the legs.

Arthur swirled the warm liquid in his mug, focusing on the way it swirled, "Good thing we didn't set up there, then." He continued, taking another hearty sip, "Me and Charles were told to scout the place. Turns out we weren't the first." You could see the reminence in Arthur's eyes as he explained away, "Found a German mother and her two children hiding underneath a wagon. The little girl told us about her father bein' taken, so Charles tracked em, all the way to Clemens Point."

You picked off the cloven hooves one by one, "Jesus, it's quite a distance from the creek too. Charles must be an expert tracker,"

"He sure is. Brilliant hunter, too. Gets it from his family I'd assume." Arthur took one last mouthful of coffee, "But- yeah. Should probably make this our last day, Dutch will most definitely be wonderin' where I am by now." Having finally finished his brew, Arthur placed down the cup and stood to come to your side, admiring the quick work you made of the doe; "That's some fine work!"

"Should make some good money on a pelt like this," flapping out the skin you carefully examined the pelt before setting it down to dry. You then spun your knife in your hand, baring it down into a section of flesh to trim the edible meat from the doe's bones. Arthur stood back, messing around inside his satchel whilst you made use of the carcass. It wasn't long before Arthur came to your side again, a map in hand, "Seein' as this is our last day, we should do somethin' fun. Ever gone fishing before?"

Tugging at the last of the edible flesh you stood to glance at the map and then to Arthur, nodding with a smile, "Yeah a few times. Wouldn't say I'm an expert at it though."

"Neither am I," Arthur unfolded the paper to reveal a rather poorly drawn map of all of the states within the East. Within many of the bodies of water were large fish, numbered, "Some guy gave me a map for some 'legendary' fish. Said he'd offer money if I sent him the ones I manage to find. Turns out there's one just round here." His finger tapped against what looked like a brook trout.

"Ah yeah, looks good! Let me just store these bits and we can go take a look."

After you had salted and stored the chunks of game into a makeshift box, buried in a shallow dip, you and Arthur mounted your horses and set off towards the bow of the stream. It wasn't far, you could still see the campsite in the distance. Your hand explored the deep pocket of your saddlebag, eventually grasping onto a smooth, extendable pole. Arthur had already set himself up, whisking out his line with a whistle. You were quick to join soon after, enjoying the pleasant weather and shallow, cool breeze. Fishing demanded patience and quiet. You both remained that way for a while, focusing on the sounds of the wilderness around you. That's when you caught Arthur from the corner of your eye. He wasn't focused on the line, but at you. You didn't bother to say anything or alert Arthur that you had caught him staring, but curiosity ebbed at you like a leach. His ocean eyes were examining your stance, a corner smile forming on his lips.

Suddenly the stream erupted in a flurry of splashing, disturbed water. Arthur was briskfully taken unaware, yelping as his hands almost slipped from the pole. His heels dug into the silt of the stream bank, pulling aimlessly at the line, reeling inward as fast as he possibly could. Finally, the fish broke water and Arthur pulled it into his grip, a brow raised.

"That the right fish?" Your line still bobbed in the water, undisturbed. Arthur let out a groan and shook his head, "Nah, this looks like a common stream fish. A big one though! Might be worth keepin'." As Arthur debated on whether or not he should keep his catch, you felt a nibble at your line. The lure you could originally see vanished within an instant, and an eruption of water flailed into the air. Your hands tightened around your pole, hoisting the line upwards as your feet struggled to stay central to your body. Reel in, tug upward. Reel in, tug upward. You repeated that motion, your face focused and yet full of amusement and exhilaration. A bright smile grew on your lips as you took a step backwards to hoist the fish in further.

Arthur gazed at you, his eyes wide. He studied you, focusing on the way your expression beamed, your bright smile, the way you handled yourself. Your long plaited hair splayed out behind you as you rocked your body back and forth. For a second it seemed as if you'd manage it, but just at that thought, your foot began to slip. Arthur was at your back within an instant, his left hand flying out to grip your own around the pole whilst his other caught your waist.

"Shit!" You yelped as you felt the silt shift, slipping backwards. Arthur's feet gave in from underneath, splaying outwards as he collapsed onto his back. You had also fallen, Arthur now underneath you. A sprinkle of stream water cascaded above you, twinkling in the light before scattering onto your face. Your eyes snapped shut to avoid the liquid, but you were stunned as a much heavier and solid object smacked you directly in the nose.

You let out a shocked squeal which rapidly erupted into pained laughter, your hand coming to your nose.

"Jesus Y/n are you okay?!" Arthur had you in his arms, shuffling into a sitting position with you in his lap to take a proper look at your face.

"The hell was that?!" As you sat, you felt a sudden rush of warm liquid trickling down your philtrum. Arthur was quick to place a cloth from his satchel under your nose, gently dabbing as he sighed, "Well, as we fell we pulled that fish out." His eyes turned to face the flailing creature flopping around on the grass. You too, took a quick look, "Please tell me that's the fish..."

"Looks like the one." Arthur let out a snort of laughter as you groaned an amused, "A 'legendary' Brook trout for a bleedin' nose. Wonderful."

Removing the cloth, Arthur gave you a check over, gently pressing the bridge of your nose with squinted eyes. You winced, but it wasn't much too painful. He wiggled his fingers against it softly, and still it wasn't enough to bring tears to your eyes. Arthur relaxed, "It ain't broken, luckily."

After that rather eventful fishing trip you both went back to camp. The day was escaping you and evening was bordering the horizon. You had stored the fish to the best of your ability, hopeful that it would keep until Arthur made it to the closest station to mail the thing off. Now you both sat huddled at the campfire, enjoying the meat from the doe earlier that day.

Arthur bit down onto the chunk hungrily, glancing over at you and then to your lower face, "How's your nose?"

"A little sore, nothing I can't handle though. I've had worse," your finger flicked up to point at the scar that ran ridged and vertical down your right eye. You'd been lucky not to have been blinded that day when Colm O'driscoll 'branded' you and your twin brother.

Arthur rose his head upwards slightly in agreement, taking another bite as he gazed at you curiously, "What you plannin' on doing when we get back, then? O'driscolls aren't much of a problem anymore. Now it's just those Lemoyne Raiders."

Your days in the Heartlands had been met with O'driscoll hostility. They had it out for you as much as they had taken issue with the Van Der Linde gang, something you and Arthur had a common familiarity over. It had been the reason you both began to frequent with eachother, drawing out O'driscolls and foiling their plans left right and centre to protect the gang and your small posse. Once Arthur and the gang fled from the state of New Hanover after the Valentine Massacre, you knew you had no choice but to move further East also for aiding in their escape from the butchered town. You recalled the look on Arthur's face as you demanded he run and not look back, to get himself and his gang out of the Heartlands whilst you remained, creating a human shield, guns blazing alongside your fellow posse members. You had survived and totalled no fatalities, but now you had new contenders to deal with; Lemoyne Raiders.

Confederate veterans and disenfranchised young men with extremely outdated views and racist by nature, the Raiders were an awfully irritating and defiant splinter in your back. Your posse and the Van Der Linde gang were comprised of men and woman from all different walks of life, certainly not the lifestyles that the Raiders appreciated.

"They're certainly annoying little arseholes, that's for sure." As you thought back to the dry state of Lemoyne, you shuddered. It wasn't your most favourite place to be. It was hot and barren with only a select amount of game to hunt. The drought had pushed most of it's animal inhabitants East and West, making it all the more difficult to feed yourselves. The creek served as a lifeline for fish, but even that wasn't an infinite reserve. Lemoyne Raiders made life among the orange tracks near-unbearable, "Guess when I get back I'll be teaching the sons of a bitches a few lessons."

"I'll come help. They're causing some problems for Dutch, too." Arthur finished up his meal, gazing out into the open glade with a relaxed sigh, watching as the sun began to dip below the horizon once more.

"It would be pretty damn boring without you there with me, so sure. I'd love the company." You shot the man an innocent smile. Arthur had turned to you once more and froze. That smile... why did it have him frozen like a petrified animal?

You hadn't noticed however, finishing your meal, cleaning your blade and eventually standing to stretch. Arthur continued to watch, his eyes trasing the various features of your body. As you began to saunter over towards the tent, gazing back to beckon him with you, he gulped; "I'll be with ya in a second, just gonna tend to Pandora real quick."

You bowed your head and settled into the bedroll, "If I'm asleep don't worry about shoving me over for some room."

Arthur however hadn't tended to Pandora. He sat watching the moon rise and the stars shine brightly. His mind had been caught in a web. A web of, well... you. It was driving him silently mad. Something had changed over the course of your trip together, a change that set down the foundations of a sudden realisation. The way Arthur had been with you was vastly different to anyone else, even previous suiters like Mary Linton. He even recalled how open and vulnerable he could be with you, how he hardly flinched at the physical affection you gave him, the way you openly embraced him when you were excited or stunned... he began to crave that attention from you. He worried for you every time you had left to return to your camp, he had panicked whenever you were on the precipice of death, charged in to save you whenever you had needed it. He enjoyed your company, the way your sweet smile gave him a warmth within his stomach nobody else could give. He admired your confidence, but also your ability to let loose and be soft and innocent around him. You let your front down every time you two had been alone, a complete show of trust.

Arthur let out a confused sigh, stretching outward to relieve his muscles before making his way into the tent, gazing down at you with a forming smile.

Arthur had slept against you once again that night, only this time he had shifted you over and slept so that your face was buried against his chest, his chin resting against the top of your head. He had even woke before you, prepping two cups of hot coffee.

"G'morning," His rustic low voice bellowed the sleep from your eyes as the struggled out into the sunlight, rubbing the tiredness from your muscles as you set yourself down to sit next to Arthur. Your hand gingerly took the mug from his hand, "Thank you," and you began to sip tiny mouthfuls, "I am not looking forward to the trip back..."

Arthur gave you a sympathetic gaze and smile, resting his hang against your shoulder, "I know, me too. We'll head down to Strawberry, get that pelt sold and have a quick bath." Arthur drew his hand back and pulled himself upwards, "Then we'll take the route past Flatneck Station near Flat Iron Lake so we ain't near Valentine. I'd imagine they're still pretty pissed off..." As he spoke he made his way over to the horses, giving them a little check over to ensure they were ready for the journey ahead. You smiled, appreciating the kindness Arthur gave to his steed and your own, "Concidering we wiped out probably half the population of the town, yeah, they're most likely still pissed off," a small laugh escaped your throat as you began to kick dust and dirt over the dying fire, "If we start leaving now we'll probably be back I'm Lemoyne by late afternoon."

With the camp now fully disembodied and lacking any trace, you saddled up. The remaining meats were stored into your saddlebags alongside some supplies whilst Arthur stowed the in tact fish to Pandora's rump. Soon, you were both on the trail once more, leaving Big Valley behind. You gazed back as the slope began to drop, waving at the vast glade of purple flowers as they vanished over the horizon. It had taken about an hour to make it to Strawberry. It was an easy and calm trip with no disturbances from human or snow. The perfect pelt had earned you a nice sum of twenty five bucks, and you quickly made haste to the hotel. Arthur had insisted you bathe first, explaining how he was going to send the fish off and take a look around. You knew Arthur by now, though. He knew Strawberry, he didn't need to look around. He was up to something, and you couldn't stop him. So, you paid for your bath, slipping an extra twenty five cents so that Arthur's bath was paid for after your own. It had even reinvigorating to wash all of that stream silt from your body, and the hot water soothed the niggling pain your nose still complained about.

After a short while you came out of your bath, content and happy. Arthur had been sat in the hallway, greeting you with a tip of his hat and nudge before hurrying off into the bathroom. He hadn't even waited for the staff to fill his own bath up before he went in and locked the door behind him. How odd... what was he so nervous about? That's when your eyes met the surface of the table. A bedroll and tent kit lie upon the wood, a small note written and placed onto the fabric. It read;

'Sorry I couldn't find your old stuff. Whoever took it was long gone some days prior. The Strawberry stables had some pretty nice bedrolls and tents, so I got you a new set. Can't go gallivantin' around the states without shelter, can you? A x.'

A bashful smile crossed your face as you read the letter, a hand trailing across the expensive feeling fabric of the new equipment. Then, you focused heavily on the ending of that note; a small 'x' had been left, almost like a kiss. Your heart lurched at the thought, but you pushed it away, assuming that was just how Arthur Morgan adresses his name in letters.

Arthur eventually finished with his bath and came to meet you outside. You were busy fitting the equipment to Starstreak's saddle when you realised his presence: "Y'didn't have to do this, y'know?"

"I wanted to. Now come on, got a lot of ground to cover and only as much sunlight."

Arthur smiled in return and then lept onto Pandora, spurring her forward.

You had eventually made it back to Lemoyne, and at the right time too: late afternoon. You both paused at the bend in the road upon the hill of Scarlet Meadows.

"Enjoy yourself?" Your hand drew across the dusty pelt of Starstreak, pulling out your horse brush. Arthur smiled, bowing his head as he did the same, offering a carrot to Pandora, "It was lovely darlin', thank you."

Your jaws parted to respond but you were suddenly cut off by thundering hooves. Arthur's face shot up suddenly, a hand twitching over his holster.

"Art'ur Morgan! Where'd you get off ta?" It was Sean, followed by Tilly, Mary-Beth and Javier. When Sean got a proper look at you, he parted his jaws in an 'Ahh' of understanding.

You knew Sean well, in fact you'd known him far before Arthur. Back when you spent your days around West Elizabeth you often spent time with the Irishman, doing odd jobs here and there and getting drunk when spirits were high. You often found yourself in awe of his stories of the gang, and now you may as well have been fully involved. You gave Sean a little wave, "Gettin' into trouble there, Macguire?"

"Aye, I don't get inta trouble Y/n, I am ta trouble! Anyhow, what's with you and Morgan ere? Go anywhere nice?" The ginger man gave Arthur a devious smirk with a risen brow, a gaggle of laughter escaping his throat. Javier rolled his eyes and stood a little ways ahead, "Good to see you Arthur."

"Where you lot off to?" Arthur decided to ignore Sean and tip his hat to Javier.

"There's a stagecoach coming up through the border of New Hanover, apparently there's a really important woman on board who should have riches beyond belief - at least, that's how Trelawny puts it." Javier gave Arthur an awkward shrug, to which Arthur responded with a monotone, "Y'sure robbin' a stagecoach in New Hanover is a good idea considering what happened in Valentine?"

Sean was quick to pipe up as Javier attempted to reply, "It's on the border of Lemoyne! Far out from that shithole! An' besides, we got the girls as a distraction."

"Okay, what sort of distraction?" Arthur's voice was curiously concerned. Sean usually made the strangest of plans to say the least, you of all people knew that to be true.

"I'm gonna 'faint'," Mary-Beth rose her hands to emphasise quotation marks by bending her fingers as she spoke, "and Tilly is gonna call for help beside me. Then, Sean's gonna pick the lock whilst Javier guards us from cover."

The plan didn't sound half bad. Mary-Beth and Tilly were only around Valentine a handful of times, so their presence wouldn't be best known. Sean was pretty skilled at picking locks, too.

For a second Arthur seemingly contemplated, brushing a hand against his chin. You caught the girls expressions darken, with Tilly snapping back a, "Come on Arthur we are perfectly capable of it!"

"And we can defend ourselves!" Mary-Beth spoke next, pouting as she crossed her arms, a brow raised with irritation.

"I ain't saying you aren't, it's just the risk with it bein' in New Hanover. If you're confident though, go for it. If... you let me come along." Arthur's offer of tagging along seemed to bother Sean who groaned, rolling his eyes, "We don't need babyin', Art'ur... but fine. Come along, if you must. You're staying with Javier though."

Javier didn't seem bothered, he simply smiled and nodded in agreement before taking a quick look at you, "This is the Van Der Linde gang's business though, can't have you tagging along I'm afraid. Dutch's orders for anyone really."

You understood, giving Javier a kind hand gesture to pause him as he spoke, "No, no. I get it. I need to get back to my lot anyway. I won't say a word," You gave the man a wink, then settled your sights on Arthur who seemed less than pleased for your imitate departure, "I'll see you soon?"

"Sure, sounds good. Few days?" Arthur had intended on hiding that smile that laced his face, but to no avail. It was a bright smile, one that Javier and Mary-Beth had caught whilst Tilly and Sean spurred their horses onwards.

You signaled a wave of goodbye as you turned your own stalion towards the direction of your own camp, "Midday, Friday. Down at Mattock Pond." You then turned to head off, briefly catching Mary-Beth's seemingly soured expression after you gave Arthur a soft smile and a gentle 'goodbye.' Strange, you'd never met Mary-Beth before. She seemed and looked like a sweet girl, but the daggers she had been giving you as you strode away burnt into your back.

Arthur watched you go, a frown forming upon his face. It was as if all of the warmth and glow of the world went with you, leaving Arthur breathless and choking on sorrow. The look upon his withered expression said it all; it was painfully obvious, and Javier gave Arthur a delicate nudge whilst Mary-Beth's expression darkened, a crooked frown forming as she began to gallop forward.

"So, whose the girl amigo?" Javier came to Arthur's side as he began to advance, some distance behind Sean and the girls. Arthur shook his head, taking in a sudden breath as if he had been stunned awake. He then cleared his throat, attempting to regain his burly composure, "Jus' some woman. Saved her from the O'driscolls when she and Sean were captured last Summer. She's been helpin' with messin' Colm's scores."

Javier's eyes were stuck onto Arthur, watching as the brute of a man seemingly went through a multitude of different emotions before he straightened himself out and rode onward, fixing his hat and bandana around his neck.

Javier pushed his mount onwards to match Pandora's pace, "You know what I think?"

Arthur narrowed his eyes, squinting, "I think you won't understand."

"Creo que estás enamorado," Javier was quick to respond before spurring his mount onwards, leaving Arthur in the dust. The Outlaw picked up his voice in a shout, "What's that s'posed to mean?!" To which Javier yelled back, "You won't understand!"

There was a hue of amusement and excitement in Javier's voice as he thundered onward. Arthur kept his usual pace, sighing as he shook his head before turning his attention towards his back. Far into the distance he could see the tiny silhouette of yourself, dust trailing behind your stalion's hoofsteps. A small smile formed upon Arthur's lips, but quickly dropped into a frown as you disappeared below the horizon. Arthur felt an emptiness he'd never experienced before, a numb feeling as if life itself was draining from him with every step you took away from the Cowboy.

Realisation suddenly hit him far heavier and faster than that of a steam train. Arthur had finally realised it; he was falling in love with you, and it terrified him, and yet, it felt so right.

_ _ _

Thank you all for reading! I may make this a few part series with the development and eventual romantic relationship between Arthur and the reader. It really just depends on my enthusiasm for writing, it is just a hobby afterall and I write during spur of the moments, so it is few and far between. Thank you though for taking the time to read, I don't concider myself a great writer but it is super fun so that's all that matters!

[ttuesday]

HCs of the fellers trying to flirt with you

You sat at the bar in the saloon, alone. You weren't planning on staying long but after dropping a particularly troubling bounty off at the local sheriff's office, you decided that you needed a drink. That's when he walked in. He was with a rough looking group of men but the second he entered the saloon, the only thing he could pay attention to was you.

Arthur

it takes Arthur about an hour to work up the courage to approach you. When he finally makes his move, he goes to stand next to you at the bar and casually orders a drink.

While the bartender rushes off to get him a beer, neither one of you speak. Just before Arthur goes to sit with his group again, he mumbles "Excuse me but um... you got some real pretty eyes".

Arthur doesn’t hang around to see your reaction. Before you can even say thank you, he's already walking away. We all know Arthur doesn't have the highest self esteem so he’s already certain you'll reject him.

You have to show him you're interested, otherwise he presumes there's no chance. The next time he comes up to the bar to order a drink, you say "You never let me thank you, how's about I pay for your beer?". There's no way Arthur let’s you pay for his drink but that does show him that you're interested. As you both start talking, you can't help but notice his small smile and his cheeks turn a rosy red.

Charles

Let’s be real, Charles doesn't know how to flirt. He's seen Dutch chat up Molly and Mary-Beth at camp and he has unfortunately witnessed Micah try to charm the majority of people but he just doesn’t think he can do that.

Charles comes up to the bar and orders himself a drink, making sure to keep a respectful distance from you. He wasn't going to say anything to you but he couldn't help himself when he saw the beautiful hunting knife you had holstered in your gun belt

“That’s a nice knife, is that a custom handle?” he asks, timidly gesturing to it. You answer him and it leads to a full blown conversation about different weapons you both own (how romantic). Charles talks about his bow and how he prefers to make his own arrows

Before the night is out, Charles offers to make you some arrows and asks if you'd like to go hunting with him sometime so ye can exchange some tips and tricks with each other

Dutch

Dutch has rehearsed this a million times, saying the best pick up lines to himself in the mirror and trying to figure out the formula to get anyone into bed. He immediately turns on his charm as he approaches you.

Dutch gazes at you for a few seconds, his eyes wandering up and down your frame. He clears his throat before saying "My apologies, I don't mean to stare. It's just, I've never met someone quite as beautiful as you". This man will absolutely smother you in compliments and of course, he'll get poetic. "The brightness of your smile makes the most dazzling star look dull" he recites as if he’s in a Shakespeare play.

He tries to impress you with his money, obviously. Dutch doesn’t even ask you if you want a drink, he just buys you one. And when he's paying for it, he opens his wallet just wide enough for you to see all the fifty dollar bills he has stuffed in there. On the slim chance his charm doesn’t get you into bed, he’s hoping his money will.

Dutch vaguely describes what he does for a living, emphasizing the fact that he's in charge to try and impress you yet again. And since Dutch is just so generous, he offers to pay for a room at the hotel down the street too *wink wink*

Micah

Micah will completely abandon whoever he came into the saloon with and walk straight up to you. He doesn't waste anytime, coming up next to you with a cheesy smile plastered across his face. "How's about you pay for the drinks and I'll pay for the room" he smirks.

You could go off with him immediately or if you tell him to stick his shitty pick up line where the sun don't shine then he backs off... but not for too long. Micah comes back about 10 minutes later, putting his hands up in mock surrender. "Easy tiger, only came to get another beer" he lies, not even half done his first drink.

He stays around the bar and tries to make small talk with you. It doesn't work at first but eventually you both actually start talking. It doesn't last long though. It all happened very fast but some drunk bumped into the both of you and then Micah shoved him into another group which led to the whole saloon erupting into chaos.

Two men grab Micah and throw him out of the saloon, one of them yelling at him that he's barred. You could stay inside, finally free of Micah bothering you or you could follow him out and see where the night takes ye.

John

You wouldn't think John is good at flirting... and you're right but John thinks he knows what to do. He waits for the perfect moment before going up to you, which is basically when you finish your drink or pull out a cigarette.

Then he quickly hurries over to you and offers to buy you a drink or light your cigarette. John presumed flirting would be easy after that but he doesn’t know what to say. He opens his mouth to say something but words fail him.

For a few seconds he just stands there, trying to think of anything impressive to say to you but then he starts to get paranoid that he's taking too long and that he looks weird. So he blurts out the first thing that comes to mind "So... you come here often?".

Poor John's mind is absolutely racing as he tries to figure out if that sounded stupid. He’s already picturing about twenty different scenarios of you rejecting him but to his surprise, you smile and answer his question. It settles him a little, knowing that he didn’t immediately fuck it up and he asks if he could sit with you for a while.

Javier

This man is the definition of smooth. He’s nervous approaching you but he tries not to show it. He acts confident and hopes for the best.

Javier doesn’t go straight into flirting, first he starts a normal conversation with you but throws in a few compliments. His one goal is to make you blush as much as possible so he can tell you how cute you look.

He casually asks if you’ve eaten yet and that the food at the saloon is terrible. Luckily for you, Javier tells you that he knows the perfect place to eat and that it has the most beautiful view he’s ever seen.

Javier leads you out of the saloon and to the general store, telling you to wait outside. He comes out with a satchel full of all kinds of food and brings you away from the busy street and sits under a nearby tree for a picnic. When you question him about this apparently amazing view, he looks at you and nods “Yeah, it’s the most beautiful view a man could ask for”. 

Bill

Bill doesn't exactly know how to approach you, so he spends the majority of the night admiring you from a far and thinking of how he can make a good first impression. Eventually, the fellers he came in with get sick of him talking about you and tell him the 'perfect' pick up line.

It's super obvious that he’s trying his best to act casual as he approaches you. Bill gestures to the tacky menu beside you "Y-you using that?". You pass it over to him and Bill says what he believes to be possibly the best pick up line known to man.

"Huh, I wonder what's on the menu... you and me? Wait, no, shit... shit I said that wrong, I meant to say me n' u... heh, get it? It’s like menu". Of course he had to fuck it up somehow. On the inside he's cursing himself but he's trying to put on a brave face.

He only relaxes when he sees a small smile on your face. “That was a uh... pretty terrible pick up line” he admits. You agree with him and Bill starts laughing “If you think that was one bad, you should’ve heard the other ones”. You spend the rest of the night laughing with Bill as he recites some more god awful pick up lines.

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (May 22/2021) - Pursuit of Peace

Quackity goes searching for new recruits to join him in Las Nevadas.

Foolish wonders if his way of life is really working towards peace, or if he needs a change.

Ranboo builds up the stronghold room for his Enderwalk experiments.

---

VOD LINKS:

Foolish

Quackity

Foolish

Ranboo

---

---

LAS NEVADAS: EPISODE THREE

---

Quackity rides a white horse and overlooks the construction site where the plans for Las Nevadas have been laid out. There is a montage that shows Quackity in New L’manburg, then hunting down Techno in the Final Control Room. 

Techno strikes him down and Quackity wakes up at Spawn with a bloody scar over one eye.

There is a rapid timelapse showing the buildings of Las Nevadas getting built one by one. Slot machine sound effects play in the background, then Quackity’s voice:

“Let’s start this hit list. Who’s on the hit list? Dream and Technoblade. If we go after Dream first, we’ll have government, and then Techno will go after us. So let’s just -- let’s just attack the problem from the goddamn root.”

Another rapid-cut montage of Quackity walking down the path to the prison, then a full view of Pandora’s Vault...

---

- Quackity is in the cell with Dream, telling him he’ll show him which weapon he’ll use to torture him this time. He puts an axe up on the wall. While Quackity is talking, Dream suddenly runs up to try and take the axe. Quackity hits him back and grabs it

- Dream cowers in the corner of the cell, pleading, while Quackity shouts at him

Quackity: “You do that again, and it’s over for you. Don’t fucking ever do that again. You understand?”

Dream: “Yes.”

Quackity: “Don’t ever reach for any of my fucking weapons ever again. Okay?”

Dream: “Yes, sir.”

- Quackity says these visits have gotten tiresome, and he’s busy. The Netherite barrier wall is put up between them and the lava. Dream tells him he doesn’t have to visit anymore.

Quackity: “No, I do, I do. This is what you don’t understand, Dream. This is what you don’t understand, okay? I do, I do have to come, every single day, so I can remind you, every bad shit you’ve ever done to me, to any other person on the server -- I have to come every day to remind you, otherwise I think you’ll end up forgetting, and I don’t think I want you to forget.”

Dream: “Forget -- I won’t forget -- I promise you I won’t forget!”

- Quackity asks him when was the last time he saw Technoblade. Dream says it was a little bit before he was put in the prison.

- Quackity asks what their relationship is like, and Dream describes Techno as one of his only allies. Quackity throws Dream a book and quill and tells him to get writing: a note to Technoblade to get him to visit the prison

- If he writes the note and doesn’t ask any questions, then he’ll give Dream a week’s break from the torture. Dream thinks he’s lying and refuses to write the note

- Dream suggests Sapnap instead and Quackity snaps. 

Quackity: “If you don’t do that shit, then we’re gonna have issues, alright? You know what? I’m kinda sick and tired of these fucking visits now that I think about it. I’m actually sick and tired! I don’t like ‘em anymore! They’re boring, they really don’t serve any much more purpose, I don’t like ‘em anymore Dream. So this is what we’re gonna do. You either write that goddamn note, or I will kill you. I am not joking, I will fucking kill you, I don’t care anymore, I don’t --”

“What is it, the book? Are you threatening me with the fucking revival book, Dream? Guess what, Dream? I don’t CARE anymore about the book! I don’t give a crap about the fucking book anymore! You understand me? I don’t give a shit! I’ve lost interest in that thing! At this point, the only reason I come and torture you so much, every single day, is merely as a reminder, because at the end of the day, no matter how many times I fucking torture you, that will never amount the amount of fucking evil you’ve done to this entire server and everyone in it--”

Dream: “It’s -- it’s ‘cause you LIKE IT! You LIKE torturing me!”

Quackity: “You know what? You know what? I might, I might. I don’t give a shit, I don’t care what it is, what the reason is, if you don’t write that goddamn note -- I’m going to kill you, Dream. I am going to kill you.”

- Dream says Sam wouldn’t let Quackity kill him, but Quackity points out that Sam is beyond the lava wall, and he can deal with Sam later if need be. Dream shouts that he wouldn’t.

- Quackity starts swinging the axe around, then starts stabbing Dream while Dream begs for him to stop. Dream agrees to write it. 

Quackity tells him what to write: 

“Dear Technoblade...”

-

Chapter One.

-

There’s a village at night. It’s raining. 

Easy job.

Foolish is there.

No innocents.

Big reward.

Easy money.

He draws his bow.

Peaceful heist.

He shoots the arrow into the village.

The village is ablaze and full of lava, people are screaming. Foolish rides off on a horse.

-

THE PURSUIT OF PEACE

-

- A bell rings. It’s Las Nevadas, and Quackity coughs, eating, while Sam comes through the door and sits down in front of him. Quackity asks where Sam found the villager running the restaurant. Sam says he just showed up, and Quackity scolds him for hiring someone random

- Quackity hands him a book with potential roles for candidates, people to join Las Nevadas. Sam says he thought he was going to hire George, Sapnap and Karl. They both pause before Sam says he was kidding

- Quackity asks Sam to tell him about Foolish. Sam has read that Foolish isn’t a good person. Quackity scoffs, but Sam says the two of them haven’t done anything inherently bad, and everything they do is just for justice

Quackity: (laughing) “Yeah, ‘justice.’”

- Foolish used to kill a lot of people. A job gone wrong written about in old history texts. Quackity still thinks he’d be a great option. 

- In the future, who’s going to protect them? Sam knows what happened with Quackity and Techno, and they need some force in their team. Sam is still skeptical

---

- Quackity greets Foolish at the summer home entrance, asking how he’s holding up after the Banquet, the places he’s affiliated with

- Foolish is done with contract work for Kinoko Kingdom. Quackity asks him if he’d like to join Las Nevadas. Foolish is honored, but he’s happy at his summer home. As Quackity presses him on it, Foolish keeps insisting

Quackity: “I know who you are, if that makes a little more sense...I’ve done my research, Foolish, I have my connections. I know what type of person you are, if you get what I mean...”

- Foolish tells him this peaceful life has worked

Foolish: “I believed peace could be found through the sword, you know? Fighting. That doesn’t work, okay. That just leads to fear, to power, to hatred, resentment, all of that, okay, it’s a mess. The only thing I did was accelerate war, okay? That doesn’t work. So I pushed back, I ran from it all, and this is good! I’m in a much happier place!”

- Quackity then says he wants to buy Foolish’s summer home from him...for one diamond. Foolish is taken aback as Quackity explains that for all the work Foolish has put into this, it’s just a build. 

No one stays here, they just admire and leave it. It is an empty shell that’s beautiful on the outside, but on the inside, it’s decaying, something that will disappear in time with no one to remember it...much like Foolish himself.

Quackity: “On the inside, everybody knows you’re...just a builder. And I was hoping, at some point, you would realize this...after I let you die at the Red Banquet.”

- Foolish is shocked. Quackity was behind those walls and he could have saved Foolish, but instead he watched him die. Foolish draws his trident, and Quackity asks if he would really take a life

Quackity: “I did it for you. I let you die because I wanted a better version of you.”

- He wanted Foolish to realize that this life as a builder would get him hurt, and he needs to go back to his old ways: feared, not a nobody

Foolish: “You threw away my life for some kind of fucking sales pitch!”

“Power...power...damn you, Qua -- what makes you think you’re any better, huh?! How’s that worked out for anyone else that’s been here? Dream? Wilbur? Schlatt? How’d that go, huh? What makes you any better, different, than them?”

- Quackity doesn’t need a sales pitch, his country is already big and other people would take the offer. 

The reason he came to Foolish is because Quackity sees himself in Foolish: someone who once saw peace and betterment of people as the way to live. It brought him nothing but suffering, and Foolish has potential

The offer still stands.

-

Chapter Two.

-

An old-fashioned documentary plays about: the Slime! 

Slimes are morphing elements that can morph into just about anything, even blocks. Is Dwane “The Rock” Johnson slime?

---

- Quackity glides down onto the roof of the restaurant in a ninja outfit and elytra, setting up redstone and TNT in the floor. There’s a bit of slime on the wall and he’s disgusted, running out. This is why he wants to kill the owner of this place

- He mines into the wall only for Charlie Slimecicle to pop out. Quackity knocks him out 

- When Charlie wakes up, he’s stuck in a hole and Quackity is interrogating him, asking who he is. Charlie says he is a definitely “goobless guy” who has many bones.

Charle: “Dap me up!”

- As Charlie describes what happened, it becomes clear that Charlie has overheard all sorts of passing conversations and knows a lot. He knows too much, and Quackity has to kill him

- Quackity asks what else he knows. Charlie gets distracted by the snow, which Quackity teaches him is called “coke”

- Charlie saw Foolish, the purple guy, he knows of a green guy, a red-shirt blond guy, a dead-but-not-anymore-guy. Quackity asks about the dead guy, who Charlie describes as “sooty”

- Quackity realizes that Charlie is an accidental spy and tells Charlie this is just a friendly greeting, he can give Charlie a home. He coughs again and tells Charlie that a spy is a friend, and Charlie will be his spy as the two walk off together

-

Chapter Three.

-

---

ONE WEEK BEFORE THE RED BANQUET

---

A purple-tinged POV of a person walking down the path through the Community House as Quackity and Sam talk in the background.

It’s been so long, he might be dead in the woods somewhere, but Quackity insists that Purpled is perfect for their country. Sam doesn’t think he would ever join, doesn’t think he would ever affiliate with anyone.

What about a job? 

The UFO is destroyed.

If Quackity offers him a one-time job, Purpled would take it. Once he has Purpled’s attention, Quackity can do something to reel him in to join the country.

Rowing to the skull base...

Sam says Purpled’s UFO is still there, but abandoned. He moved out along time ago. Quackity has a plan...

---

- Quackity and Sam are talking by Eret’s Museum. Sam is in charge of keeping an eye out for Purpled. Sam protests -- he’s the Warden and Quackity is breaking and entering, and he’s not supposed to break the law. 

- Quackity has a stack of TNT. He climbs up the UFO and starts placing TNT everywhere inside

- Purpled logs on right in front of him and immediately starts attacking, but stops when Quackity threatens to light the TNT, explaining that this was the best way to get in contact with him

- Quackity tells him about how messed up the server is, that the Egg is still an issue, and he needs Purpled’s help. 

- Purpled is in the middle of a mercenary job already, but Quackity will pay Purpled well. He has a new project getting him wealth, a prosperous country. To prove it, Quackity takes him there...

---

The Red Banquet happens. A fight breaks out, and they get the Eggpire to retreat.

---

- Quackity stands on top of the flower shop. He meets Purpled, dressed in his suit, and thanks him for his help with the Egg

- Purpled stops him to ask for his money. Quackity takes him up to the roof and shows him to a chest with the money in it. Purpled approves

- Quackity has something else for Purpled: he goes downstairs and flicks a lever, and Purpled’s UFO explodes

Quackity: “Purpled, your legacy is gone, and I’ve taken it from you. That’s the last piece of evidence that you were ever here, Purpled. That’s it. And you die a long with it. You die along with it -- YOU DIE ALONG WITH IT, PURPLED!”

- Purpled runs at Quackity, attacking him. Quackity stops him, saying he did it for him. Purpled has two choices: he can take Quackity’s life and run away with the money, and he disappears forever. Or, he could join Quackity.

- Quackity tells Purpled he has potential, why waste it away? If Purpled joins him, he can buy a whole fleet of UFOs to replace the one

- Quackity promises Purpled a plot of land in Las Nevadas

Quackity: “Take the gamble, Purpled...take the gamble, and you can change everything.”

- Silently, Purpled turns and walks away

-

Chapter Four.

-

- Fundy walks to his new house in the forest and goes to sleep. When he wakes up, he opens the door to find it’s a mesa biome. He’s upset and goes back inside, reassuring himself. When he opens the door again, he’s met with Quackity standing there

- Quackity invites him to a walk, saying Fundy was a hard person to find, but he found him

- Fundy asks what this place is, but Quackity says he should know it better than anyone. As they approach, the mesa is populated by bits and pieces of L’manburg. The wooden stilts of New L’manburg, fragments of the black walls, the Camarvan. Quackity reminisces with him

- Fundy isn’t sure that the drug equipment is necessarily “good memories,” but Quackity tells him no, everything is good memories

- As Quackity leads him towards an oversized, deteriorated version of Eret’s tower, he reminds Fundy of how L’manburg was blown up

- Quackity steps into the shadows

Quackity: “You know what, Fundy? Those memories don’t matter. None of that matters, Fundy. All these structures, all these things we built together...it’s here now, but it’s really gone, and none of it matters, nor will it ever matter...Fundy, if you think about it...you don’t matter. Along with all these structures and everything in ‘em, you’re gonna fade away just like it.”

- If Fundy doesn’t change things, he won’t matter, but Quackity has plans and he doesn’t have to fade away if he just joins Quackity

- Quackity gives him ten seconds to decide. He starts counting down...

- Fundy runs towards him into the darkness as Quackity reaches one and he wakes up suddenly in his bed

- He goes to his door and opens it. Outside is the regular spruce forest, and Quackity is there to greet him.

---

It’s the day Wilbur got a tour from Tommy. Wilbur walks over to his resurrection shrine and finds the “PROJECT NEVADAS” book, reading it.

---

Las Nevadas. Wilbur, revived, comes walking down the road. 

He comes face to face with Quackity.

---

- Foolish stands on top of his temple, wondering...was Quackity right? Is he wasting his time here, accomplishing nothing? He isn’t really doing anything to work towards peace

- He stands in the beacon light. Can Quackity do better than everyone else that’s tried before him? Quackity wasn’t all wrong in what he said

- At the Banquet, when he did try to help, he wasn’t strong enough. He can’t even control his own area -- people just walk in and he can’t stop them. Does he need to try something else?

- Maybe there’s a balance between both ends of the spectrum. It wouldn’t hurt to go look, try something different

- He starts making the journey through the Nether, then past Spawn until he reaches Las Nevadas. Just to visit and look around

- Can he really trust someone who let him die?

- Foolish spots Quackity across the road and goes to speak with him. The casino is still going through some repairs, as they found some flaws with the “math” and want to make sure everything is fair

- Foolish asks what Quackity wants from him. Quackity tells him it’s up to him what he wants to do, and it wouldn’t be fair of Quackity to tell Foolish that until Foolish accepts the invitation

- Quackity tours Foolish around the place, showing off the various buildings, like a restaurant and an area for weddings. Quackity sleeps in the Needle. There’s also a strip club also undergoing repairs and a massive Eiffel Tower

- They swim in the pool and Quackity asks Foolish to tell him a bit more about himself. Foolish says he worked for Kinoko Kingdom and Snowchester, and Quackity wants him to elaborate a bit on Kinoko

- Quackity tells Foolish that Las Nevadas is “its own, independent nation” and that you can’t depend on anyone. Quackity wants to depend on only himself. 

- Foolish asks about the people who might not like that it’s a nation. Quackity says he just doesn’t have a plan and he’ll deal with it when the time comes

- Quackity tells Foolish he’s welcome to bring others. Foolish notes that Quackity said he doesn’t like to “dwell,” and by coming here maybe Foolish can stop dwelling on the past as well

- Quackity tells Foolish that Foolish chooses who he wants to be. The last thing he wants with Foolish is bad blood

Quackity: “I take care of those who take care of me...why do you think I have no one around?”

- Foolish tells him he’ll have an answer tomorrow. Quackity gives him temporary tokens for the casino and says goodbye to go and sleep. Foolish thinks to himself in Las Nevadas

- That’s when Foolish spots Fundy on the road and the stream abruptly ends

- Ranboo is in his basement. He wants to move the lab equipment to the table area

- He has an experiment log book that he won’t show chat

- Ranboo reads the letter Foolish left for him about the littering at his summer home

- He has a plan for what experiments he wants to do. He’s changed his opinion on the Enderwalk, as it allows him to hear chat in the first place. He doesn’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing

- Ranboo reaches the stronghold portal room and starts lining the walls with iron blocks. He thinks that after today, he might be able to remember everything

- He creates a glass water tank in the corner and some brewing stands, as well as a lever-activated dispenser with arrows

- Ranboo hit a wall with the experiments and he wonders if this strange table might be the key to breaking through

- He realized something frightening:

Ranboo: “The Enderwalk isn’t a different version of me, it’s not a different me, it’s still...me. But, from what I gathered...it’s me with...all of my memories. Every. Single. One. And I realized that...so...I mean, who knows what could’ve happened? There could’ve been an entire other story that I’m not aware of.”

- Ranboo wonders if he wants to keep living in blissful ignorance or know everything that’s happened

- He opens the log: 

---

[In Ender]

Purpose of experimentation:

To understand

To learn

To remember

---

To remember is one of the purposes. There are 43 pages, and one of them had the solution.

If it gets rid of it completely, he could lose all of what he didn’t know from before. It could either be good or unknown.

- He tells chat he tricked them. They weren’t just random experiments -- he was going to solve it, and he thought he needed chat with him. 

He didn’t need a splash potion. He would use the arrow and go into the water tank, and that would be the solution.

- Ranboo goes back and blocks up the hall, deciding to only use it as a last resort if something happens.

Only if something happens.

He “welp” claps to end stream.

[fangirl-ramblings]

Pairing: Charles Smith x Female Readee

Word Count: 3222

Summary: Love is in the air around camp, but has Cupid's arrow somehow missed you and Charles?

Notes: The fluffiest of fluff, Reader POV / Charles POV

This @rdr-secret-cupid gift is for one of my favourite people - @12timetraveler. My sincere apologies for this Valentine's / birthday present being so late, but hopefully it's well worth the wait 😘

~* Tumblr Masterlist | Stories on AO3 *~

Cupid's Arrow

Reader's POV

14th Feb 1899

You looked around to see Dutch sitting in his tent, whispering sweet nothings to Miss O'Shea while Sean was trying his hardest to win over Karen, whose icy demeanour was starting to thaw with each passing drink he was plying her with. Hell, even John had had a little too much to drink and summoned the courage to pick a small posy of flowers and present them to Abigail as a small Valentine's gift. 

You liked seeing the camp happy like this, all relaxed in each other's company; the likes of Javier and Tilly sitting next to each other as the former strummed on his guitar and filled the air with a sweet melody, or young Mary-Beth, enjoying the latest romance novel she acquired, only to tear her eyes away from the page to gaze lovingly towards an oblivious Arthur before continuing her story.

And while Micah's grumbling about it "not bein' right, someone like him talkin' to a fiiinnnne woman like her," as he watched young Lenny saying something to make Jenny giggle from across the way, was enough to for everybody to tell him to shut up, it certainly wasn't enough to dampen the mood around the place.

It was even nice to see Miss Grimshaw laugh and smile as she joined the older camp members in their reminiscences about previous Valentine's days with their own past loves, soon followed by raucous singing of filthy songs but as you took your makeshift seat of a crate at the poker table, you couldn’t but help feel Cupid’s arrow had struck everyone and somehow bypassed you. 

You had secretly hoped that Charles would have joined in with the party, but the minute Dutch wound up his gramophone Charles had disappeared into the woods to take his position on guard duty.

While you'd taken many opportunities to try to make conversation and try to get to know him better over the last few months, you still found him to be a man of few words - but you liked that about him. The camp was full enough of loud-mouthed characters like Sean and Uncle that any moment you found yourself sitting in a comfortable silence with Mr. Smith was bliss.

As the night drew on and more and more alcohol was heartly consumed by all, you felt your eyes growing heavy and couldn’t summon the energy to sing along with the lyrics of “The Louisville Maid”.

   "Well as fun as this is, I'm gonna call it a night," you announced to your campmates, knowing full well that nobody was really listening. You sighed as they were caught up in their merriment and headed towards your tent… only to walk straight into Charles.

   "Whoa, careful there," he told you, giving you a small smile as he placed those big, strong hands of his upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot.

Your face burned as you felt your face grow redder and with each passing second as you enjoyed his gentle but firm touch, causing you to look away to avoid staring into those beautiful, deep brown eyes of his. You hoped that he thought your flushed appearance was a result of all the alcohol running through your veins and not the thought currently running  through your mind; what it would be like if he suddenly dipped and kissed you with a fervent passion?

   "Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

    "I'm okay, thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" Your brow furrowed as you tried to rack your brain. Had you arranged to go on a job and completely forgot? Charles watched you, with a confused look. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?" 

   "Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment, "I can't believe you remembered."

   "Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, making you weak at the knees.

He cleared his throat and moved his hand away. "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams." 

You watched him walk to his tent, before heading to your own. Still smiling to yourself, you drew the flaps shut and fell on the cot, relieving that brief moment you just had with Charles over and over as you closed your eyes and let sleep wash over you.

15th Feb 1899

As the sun beamed through the gaps of your tent, you woke up to a very different camp atmosphere compared to the night before. It was eerily quiet; with everybody still in bed, sleeping off the hangovers they'd given themselves at the party.

Deciding to make the most of having a quiet camp all to yourself, you sat yourself up and stretched - your muscles and joints aching in a way that made you laugh. Another year older today and your body was certainly reminding you of that fact with all the aches and pains you suddenly started feeling. 

A part of you doubted anybody else would be able to remember that today was your birthday but you smiled as you saw Mary-Beth hadn't forgotten; she'd wrapped a romance novel with one of her ribbons and left it on your trunk. Next to it was a little handwritten note from her, wishing you a very happy birthday and how "the way the heroine in this story reminds me of how you act around Charles, maybe if you read it you'll end up with your true love too. x"

You playfully rolled your eyes; ever the romantic, Mary-Beth had seen you gazing at Charles one day and decided you were destined to be together.

Pulling on some fresh clothes, you stepped outside and made your way towards the coffee pot, presuming nobody would have thought to wash it out and prepare it ready for the morning. Yet, to your surprise, you lifted it up to find it freshly brewed and still piping hot.

   “I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking behind you carrying some logs for the campfire.

   “I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” you laughed, pouring yourself a cup. “You want one?” you asked, offering Charles the filled mug currently in your hand.

   “I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up.” 

   “Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done," you giggled knowing from previous experience how badly Susan seemed to suffer from next morning hangovers.

He carefully placed the chopped wood next to the campfire before turning his attention back to you. "Oh I bet," he grinned, his eyes twinkling. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

   "Oh?" Curiosity had gotten the best of you and you were intrigued to know what he was thinking.

   "I saw supplies were running low and was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," rushing his words out before casting his eyes to the ground. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

   "What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" you teased. 

   "That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company." 

You stood gobsmacked as he turned away from you, quickly making his way over to Taima, pulling something from her saddle.

   "I… I'd like to spend time with you too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." You hung your head in disappointment, mentally kicking yourself that this could be your one chance to be alone with the man you'd admired for all these months - and you've lost it because you never took the time to invest in decent hunting equipment.

   "I can help you with that," Charles told you, pulling out an ornate looking bow and handing it to you. "I made it… for your birthday."

   "For me?" Shocked by his act of kindness, you traced your fingers over each of the detail engravings that ran along each of the limbs, tears starting to cloud your vision. "This is beautiful, but are you sure you mean to give this to me?"

   "Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” A sudden flash of fear crossed Charles’ eyes as he realised what he had just said, his body tensing.

   "You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek, his body relaxing as he realised he hadn't made a mistake in telling you.

   "It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." You gently thumbed his cheek, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?" You suggested as you signaled for Charles to see what you could see. 

Stood behind him was a small audience of John and Mary-Beth, both of whom were grinning over to you both. 

Charles playfully rolled his eyes and walked  you away from their gaze. 

   "Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

   "Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

   "Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

    "What's so funny?" Charles asked, trying to read your expression.

   "Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all."

Charles' POV

14th Feb 1899

   “I’ll take over here if you want,” John grumbled, clutching his face as he approached where Charles was currently taking up guard duty in the wooded area on the outskirts of camp. “I reckon my Valentine's night is as good as over.”

Charles turned to face his campmate, the moonlight showing a fresh red looking handprint across John's cheek. "You blew it with Abigail then?"

   "Yep, I pushed my luck just a little too much," John chuckled lightly, "But I'm sure I'll  survive. Go on, you go enjoy yourself… I saw [y/n] looking all lonesome up there, she could probably do with some company."

John waggled his eyebrows as Charles pretended to scowl; alcohol had given him loose lips one night and he had ended up confiding in Arthur and John about his feelings about the camp lady he'd taken a shine to. But he couldn’t hold the expression for long as a smile crept over his lips he thought about you.

   "I'll probably just get some shut-eye instead, but I have been busy making this for her." He lifted up a beautiful bow that was resting against a nearby trunk. "It's her birthday tomorrow and she mentioned once she'd be interested in learning to hunt properly."

   "You're a big old softie, ain't you Charles Smith?" John chuckled. "Well, I'm sure she'll appreciate the thought."

   “Don’t you go ruining my reputation, John,” he laughed, making his way to the clearing where all the gang's horses grazed peacefully.

Taima looked up, nickering as she saw her owner nearby.

   “Just a passing visit for now girl, but we can go out on a ride tomorrow,” he whispered to her, stroking her neck as she nuzzled against him. “In the meantime, I want you to keep this safe for me.” Charles lifted his saddle onto the hitching post that Taima was attached to, and carefully placed the bow into the holster on it. She watched her owner with curiosity, her ears pricking up as heard Charles rummaging in his saddlebag to retrieve an apple to reward his trusted Appaloosa for her loyalty. 

The music was still playing as he walked back into camp, only this time it was Pearson’s accordion and Uncle’s banjo that filled the air as Miss Grimshaw sang a bawdy song. It was clear that the party wasn't ending anytime soon, but that wasn't going to stop Charles from trying to get some sleep. Heading towards his tent, he found himself looking around for a quick glance of his heart's desire, only for you to crash straight into him.

   "Whoa, careful there," he told you, gently placing his hands upon your arms to help stop you from falling over on the spot. He could have swore he felt a jolt of electricity flowing through his veins as his skin touched yours.

   "Sorry Charles, I… I… I hadn't realised you'd finished your shift already. Want a drink?"

    "I'm okay thank you, I was gonna try and get some sleep… and I think you should too - big day tomorrow isn't it?" A flash of confusion crossed your face and Charles began to doubt himself. "Oh, I thought you'd mentioned the other day that it was your birthday? Maybe I got it wrong?" 

   "Oh my word, yes it is," you gasped in wonderment. "I can't believe you remembered."

   "Guess I just have a good memory for special occasions," he grinned, brushing a loose hair from your face without thinking, before catching himself and moving his hand away.

Not really wanting the moment to be over but knowing he must tear himself away lest he stay admiring you all night, he cleared his throat. 

   "Well we best both go get some shut eye before the sun comes up. Good night and sweet dreams." 

Making the short walk back to his own tent,  his heart soared as he thought back over your reaction to him remembering your birthday. Now he couldn’t wait to see how you would react to your present.

Settling on his bed roll, he watched you draw your tent closed before allowing himself finally sleep and dream of you.

Charles found himself waking at the crack of dawn, just as the last few stragglers were stumbling towards their bedrolls . Realising he could effectively have the tranquillity of camp to himself,  he gladly jumped up and set about getting ready for a new day.

Firstly he made his way over to Pearson’s wagon to grab a few coffee beans and started brewing a fresh pot. Noticing the meat supplies were running dangerously low, Charles made a mental note to go out hunting later and wondered if this could be the ideal opportunity to ask the birthday girl to join him.

While he waited for that certain someone to wake up, he had already  stoked the fires back to life and disposed of the empty bottles that were scattered all around camp before finally enjoying a short break with a fresh cup of coffee.

It wasn't until he had made a start on chopping wood he had heard footsteps behind him and smiled to himself as he looked over to see [y/n] making her way over to the coffee pot.

   “I figured everybody would be wanting some when they woke up,” Charles chuckled, walking up to her with an armful of logs for the campfire.

   “I’d say; seems they all had a lot to celebrate,” she laughed in that sweet way that made Charles’ feel all warm inside as she poured a cup. “You want one?” asking as she offered the mug in her hand towards him.

   “I’m okay thanks, I had one before I made a start on tidying the place up," he explained, walking over towards where the chopped wood was to be stored.

   “Oh trust me, I wouldn’t worry too much about that today - Grimshaw will have such a headache, she'll be far more focused on getting all the quieter jobs done,"

Charles chuckled as he carefully placed the firewood down before realising this was his chance and turned his attention back to you.

   "Oh I bet," grinning with a twinkle in his eyes. "Actually, I have an idea that might help keep camp running smoothly and stop people grumbling.'

   "Oh?" you asked, tilting your head with curiosity.

He had noticed in the past that each time you asked a question about something that had piqued your interest, you would often tilt your head in this way and found it utterly adorable.

   "I was thinking of doing some hunting later… a good hearty stew might be what the others need to recover," Charles rushed his words out before looking away bashfully. "I, erm… I was wondering if you wanted to join me?"

   "What? Because I'm the only other person sober enough to safely use a weapon right now?" she smirked, and he felt his insides flip-flop. She was so damn beautiful.

   "That's one reason, but I'd also like some good company," he told her, quickly turning to go fetch the bow from Taima’s saddle.

    "I… I'd like to enjoy your company too, but I'm afraid my pistol is no good for hunting." She lowered her head in what seemed to be disappointment.

   "I can help you with that," Charles told her, carefully placing the bow in her hands. "I made it….for your birthday."

   "For me?" He watched as she traced her fingers over the engravings he spent so much time on, hoping the tears brimming in her eyes were because she was overjoyed. "This is beautiful… but are you sure it's for me?"

   "Of course… a beautiful bow for a beautiful lady.” He kicked himself inwardly for saying it aloud, 

   "You… think I'm beautiful?" Your eyes looking deep into his, searching for the truth.

He nodded. "The most beautiful creature I have ever laid eyes on… I'm sorry, I didn't mean to put you on the spot like that. If it's too awkward, we can just forget the hunting…"

He stopped mid-sentence as you kissed his cheek. The feeling of embarrassment replaced by one feeling like he could soar into the sky right now.

   "It's not awkward at all, I've liked you for a long time but I could never work out if the feeling is mutual." Gently thumbing his cheek, you suggested, "Let's go on this hunting trip and talk about this in private shall we?"

He followed your gaze to see Mary-Beth and John grinning at you both as they stood by their tents. 

Playfully rolling his eyes, Charles guided you away from their gaze. 

   "Sounds like a good idea, wanna head out now?"

   "Lead the way Mr. Smith." You held out your hand and he gladly took hold.

   "Oh wait, you'll need some of these too" he reached back into his saddle to hand you a bunch of arrows… only to be confused as he heard you laughing.

    "What's so funny?" Charles asked, hoping thewhole entire moment wasn't a set up so camp could make fun of him

   "Nothing… just looks like Cupid's arrows found me after all"

[novaiya]

Hunt or be Hunted - Pearson x Reader

Summary: You’ve tried, time and time again to flirt with Pearson, but it seems that all your advances went right over his head. Maybe some time alone while hunting will bring the two of you closer? Unfortunately, your outting took a completely different turn.

Words: 1,554

Warnings: Pearson.

A/N: Don’t even ask. I don’t know, man, I really don’t. This just poured out of me in one go. I don’t know what to tell you, I’m just a vessel for these words.

The first thing you felt when you woke up was the smell of stew; a mix of meat, vegetables and herbs. It was the smell that always lingered around the camp, one that you woke up to and often went to bed with. It’s a smell that brought you comfort, for it indicated that there’s enough provision, everyone’s fed and maybe, just maybe you were going to be alright.

Pearson, the resident chef, was by the provision wagon, preparing all the necessary ingredients for the next meal.

You got up from your cot, stretching your body by reaching towards the sun with your hands, and started getting yourself ready for the day.

“Good morning, miss,” Pearson said.

“Good morning, Pearson,” you returned with a smile, fresh cup of coffee in your hand. You stood by where the pot was, watching Pearson as he stirred all the ingredients together. It was just you and him there. The rest of the ladies have long finished their coffees and have started on their daily tasks.

“How’s the stew coming along?” you said.

“It’s alright,” he said before stopping stirring the stew. “Could be better with some meat. Boys haven’t been bringing much lately.”

You nodded your head, humming in agreement before an idea popped in your head.

“Well, maybe we can bring some?” you said, looking sheepishly at Pearson, holding the cup of coffee tightly against your chest. You were thankful that no one was around; they would probably laugh or smirk at your shy attempt at Pearson. Some of them already knew about your little crush, and would often poke fun at you about it.

“I saw a few deers roaming around not far off. We could probably bring a couple right in time for dinner,” you finished.

Pearson thought for a second before nodding his head and standing up. “Sounds like a good idea,” he said. “I’m gonna see if anyone else wants to join.”

“No!” you exclaimed rather abruptly, making Pearson tilt his head at you. You brought your voice down, speaking again, “We might scare them off if there’s too many of us. Better we go alone, just the two of us.”

“Uh, sure,” Pearson said, still eyeing you warily.

Pearson wouldn’t know what flirting is even if it died in his bed. You’ve tried, time and time again, to steal some alone time with him, asking him to go on a walk around the woods, or go into town to replenish some supplies. He would happily agree, and bring any and everyone along. “The more the merrier,” he would say. It seemed like he didn’t understand that your outings weren’t supposed to be a morale building activity for the entire camp.

Like now; you didn’t care about hunting deers, hell, you barely knew how to hunt. Your forte was your beauty and your mouth. You could talk anyone into giving you anything, poor prey too enticed with your beauty to tell you no.

Pearson was waiting for you by his horse when you finished getting ready. The two of you mounted up your horses, and left the camp, heading west where you often spotted deers roaming around.

You took out your bow and arrow and got into a crouched position, slowly approaching the group of deers by the shore, Pearson with his own bow and arrow two steps ahead of you.

“Wait,” he said, extending out his hand to stop you.

You looked at him with a puzzled expression before you saw where he was looking. A few men, O’Driscolls by the look of them, drove by on their horses before stopping. They were looking around, as if tracking something or someone.

“I’m telling you I’ve seen them around here,” one of them said.

“Well, where are they?”

“Their camp can’t be too far, I’ve seen a bunch of them hunt around this area.”

“Dismount, let’s look around.”

The three men jumped off their horses before walking around, looking around at trees, grass and the road, hoping to see something that’ll help them catch your track.

You and Pearson hid behind a tree, the shadow from it and a small bush hiding you well enough. Your heart was beating hard against your chest and your breathing was coming out in uneven, short bursts. You left your guns on your horse, not expecting to need them, only bow and arrow in your hand. The touch of Pearson’s hand on your arm brought you out of your thoughts. He smiled at you. He too was nervous, but he didn’t show it, trying to calm you down instead, and it surprisingly worked. You felt safer with his touch, his smile calming down your beating heart. You wanted to reach out, touch his hand, but you lost your balance, falling down on your butt.

“There!” one of the O’Driscolls screamed out, pointing to where you were hidden, your fall making enough noise to alert them.

“Shit,” Pearson said before the two of you got up and ran deeper into the woods. You could hear the O’Driscolls not far behind. Pearson took out his revolver and turned back towards them, shooting back at them. He shot one of them in the neck, the poor scum holding onto the wound as the blood shot out of him. You hid behind a rock before peaking out, bow and arrow in your hand. You saw one of them hiding behind a tree, revolver in his hand, and took your shot, your arrow penetrating his chest.

You didn’t see any more of them, so you got up from your hiding spot, looking around and seeing Pearson crouched by a tree, looking around.

You were about to call out his name when you were pushed face down into the ground, your breath knocked out of you. You started fighting back, squirming under the perpetrator. He turned your over, and tried pointing his revolver at your head, but you were wiggling so much that he couldn’t get a straight aim. He hit you in the face, the impact instantly making your ears ring and a taste of blood hit your tongue. He finally pointed his revolver at you, the cold barrel right against your forehead. You closed your eyes, getting ready for the fateful shot, but it didn’t come. You felt the weight of the man fall from you and you opened your eyes. He was lying to the side of you, knife sticking out of his neck, his eyes open and glossy. You looked up, seeing Pearson standing next to you, breathing heavily. He gave you a hand, helping you up to your feet. You both looked around, silent for a moment as you surveyed your surroundings.

“You got something,” Pearson said as he reached out with his hand, wiping off the blood from your nose.

“Thank you.”

“Told you we should’ve brought more people along, it can be dangerous around-“

You didn’t let him finish, sighing in exhaustion.

“My lord, Pearson,” you said, “do you really not understand? I don’t care about the deer, or hunting, I just wanted to spend some time with you.”

Pearson kept quiet for a moment, blinking at you. You could practically hear gears turning in his head.

“Are you… serious?”

“Yes, I am.”

In that moment, Person remembered every occasion where you seemed much nicer to him than you usually were to other camp members. He remembered how often you would spend your time by his wagon, chatting with him while he prepared stew, how you would laugh at his jokes that even he himself thought weren’t really funny.

He never thought that it meant something more. You were a beautiful woman, probably the most beautiful he has ever seen, in both your features and your soul. He never allowed himself to even think you might be interested in him.

Your hand against his cheek pulled him out of his thoughts. You were looking up at him, your eyes asking a silent question as you stood on your toes, bringing your face closer to his.

You could feel his breath on your lips, a mix between thyme or oregano. Slowly, you pressed your lips against his. He didn’t respond for a moment, too shocked to react. You were about to pull away when he placed a hand on your hip, kissing you back. One of your hands reached behind his head, twisting your fingers in his hair, deepening the kiss.

The two of you quickly broke away when you heard hoofbeats approaching. You got your bow and arrow ready, and Pearson took out his knife from the dead O’Driscoll. You were about to shoot when you saw a figure coming out of the bushes, but instantly lowered your bow when you saw that it was Lenny.

“You guys alright,” he said. “We heard shots all the way from camp.” Lenny looked around, seeing the bodies of dead O’Driscolls. “I guess you guys got it all covered,” he said with a smirk.

You looked at Pearson, a smile on your lips. “Yes we did.”

“You guys should go back to camp, Arthur and Charles are on their way, they’ll clean this up.”

You nodded your head, taking Pearson’s hand in yours and walking back to your horses, leaving confused Lenny behind, murmuring to himself “What the…”

[seasonsofeverlark]

Everdeen Scrooge

Author: @norbertsmom​

Prompt: Hunger Games Christmas Carol [submitted by @katnissandpeeta125​]

Rating: T

Summary: Several years after the war that ended President Snow’s tyranny over Panem, Twenty two year old Katniss Everdeen doesn’t want anything to do with the new Christmas holiday instituted by the New Panem Government. Can a ghostly visit make her change her mind?

Author’s Note: Special thanks to @mega-aulover​, my friend and beta, and all around expert on A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens, which this fic is based on. This post includes chapters 1 and 2 out of a total of 6. The other chapters will be posted separately.

___________

Chapter 1

Katniss expels a puffy cloud of air then releases her bow string. There’s silence for a moment as the arrow flies.

  “You got it,” Gale exclaims as he stands up from their blind. 

  In the distance, gobbling can be heard as several turkey hens flee, a large gobbler lay still in the snow with an arrow sticking out of its side.

  The snow crunches under their boots as they approach it. Katniss pulls out her arrow as Gale picks up the bird by its feet. “This is going to make a great Christmas dinner, Catnip.” 

  “Nope,” Katniss says, shaking her head. “That bird is going to make several meals for the next few weeks.”

  “But,” Gale tries, as he loops the turkey strap around its feet and neck.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll give you your share. You did help me track it, and now you can carry it.”

  “What about Christmas dinner tomorrow?” Gale asks as he lifts the strap over his shoulder.

  “I’m not wasting all that meat on one meal,” Katniss says as they start walking back to town. “I need to make sure we have food for the rest of the winter. Who knows when I’ll get a chance to hunt again.” 

  “Are you coming to our party tonight? You mom and sister are planning to be there. I heard them planning it with my mom.”

  “Nope. I’ve got to get a decent night sleep so I can come back out hunting in the morning.”

  “Come on, Catnip. The new government has given us tons of opportunities, better pay, more affordable food, better houses even. You don’t need to hunt every day. You really need to spend some time with your friends and family.”

  While it’s true that the new Panem government has provided better lives for all of Panem. After the war was over and President Snow was executed, a new government was created with representatives from each of the districts. Katniss still has a problem trusting that things won’t go back to the way they were before the revolution. 

  She and her family nearly died of starvation after her father died in a mine explosion. Ever since, she’s been very frugal with food and with money. Gale used to be as frugal as she is, but ever since he fell in love with Leevy Johnstone, he’s been different. She’s tired of the same old argument. 

  Her best client, Haymitch Abernathy was dead. Gone these past few months. He was a victor and a war hero, but no one paid him no mind because he kept people at a distance. Just like she tried to do. 

  He paid Katniss extra coin for good game meat on a regular basis. She missed the old drunk codger.  When he died not many people went to his funeral, only Katniss, Peeta Mellark, and the old Capitol Escort, Effie trinket attended. 

   “Let’s just get this turkey in cold storage so we can go into town to trade the rest of our haul,” Katniss gripes, ignoring his plea.

  After the oohs and aahs from her mother and sister over the turkey, and disappointment in their eyes from the news of Katniss’ plans for the turkey, she and Gale head to town to finish their trades. 

  With trading at the now legal hob, and other merchants in town complete, Katniss and Gale head to Mellark’s Bakery for their last stop of the day. Even though Seam folks are now welcome in the front of the bakery, trades are still conducted at the back door.

  Katniss climbs the steps to knock on the door, while Gale stands at the bottom of the steps digging around in his game bag for his trade. She wishes she could have gone to the bakery on her own, but Gale said he needs to get something too. 

  The youngest Mellark, Peeta answers the door. Peeta has been in charge of the bakery for four years now, after his two older brothers married girls who inherited their own family businesses. 

  “Merry Christmas, Katniss,” Peeta greets with a warm smile. “Are you here to trade?”

  Katniss is momentarily blinded by his warm easy smile. It always takes her a second to snap back into the moment. She really enjoys when they spend time after their trades chatting, but first there’s trading to do. She needs to stay focused. 

  “Yes I am here to trade,” she says as she holds up a pair of fat squirrels. 

  “You always get them through the eye,” Peeta says, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “She sure does,” Gale says as he walks up the steps behind her.

  Katniss clenches her jaw and levels Gale a shut up look. She needs a good sale. “I know how much you like squirrels, so I got an extra one for you, because I know tomorrow you’ll be closed. I wanted to make sure you have enough game meat to last you-" 

  "One day,” Peeta says, smiling, his blue eyes sparkling.

  Gale covers a laugh from behind her.

  “A lot can happen in one day,” Katniss defends. “Besides, you could always bring a dish to one of your brothers’ homes. I’m sure they could use the extra game meat. How many nephews do you have now?”

  “Two with one more on the way,” Peeta says brightly.

  “See I’m sure they could use the extra meat.”

  “Okay, hold on; let me get the bread for you and some coin for the extra meat.”

  “Perfect,” Katniss says, nodding.

  When her trade is done Gale steps up with a rabbit from his bag. “A small bag of cookies, please.” 

“Sure thing,” Peeta says, taking the rabbit into the kitchen.

  After Peeta leaves, Katniss gives Gale an incredulous look.

  “They’re a present for Posy,” Gale defends. “She’s really into the spirit of Christmas, especially the presents,” he says with a laugh.

  After Peeta returns with the bag of cookies, Gale tucks them into his game bag.

  Katniss and Gale turn to walk back down the steps, but Peeta speaks up before they get very far, “Hey, Katniss. Could I ask you something?”

  Kaniss looks back to Peeta, but he’s looking at Gale. 

  The two men seem to come to some kind of silent agreement and Gale says, “I’m going to head over to the sweet shop for more presents for Posy. I’ll meet you out front, Catnip.”

  Katniss is a bit stunned by their exchange, but shakes her head and walks back to Peeta. “What did you want to ask me?” she asks, hesitantly.

  Peeta stammers for a minute, “Would you, ah,” he rubs the back of his neck and looks down at his shoes before blurting out, “would you go out on a date with me?” He looks back up; his blue eyes plead for her answer as his cheeks turn red.

  “Oh, I-I don’t date,” Katniss stammers out before running down the steps. She runs down the alley between the shops and almost collides with Gale, who could not have made it to the sweet shop and back already.

   "You know you were cold toward Peeta,” Gale tells her.

  “I was not.”

  “Katniss, listen to me. that Merchant is decent folk and you treat him…”

  “Like what?” Katniss asks, narrowing her eyes.

  “Like that,” Gale points to her face. “You need to stop pushing people away. One day you’re going to find yourself all alone.” He walks away toward the sweet shop, shaking his head.

  Katniss brushes what Gale has to say aside. Just because he forgot what life is like when you don’t have enough food to eat, she’ll never forget. She heads toward home without him.

  “Come on, Katniss,” Prim begs from her seat at the dinner table. Her fingers tangled in the ribbon she’s trying to tie. “I need your help wrapping these gifts for the Hawthornes.” 

  “Sorry Prim,” Katniss replies from her spot on the floor. “I need to finish the fletching for my arrows. It’s supposed to be unseasonably warm tomorrow, so I can’t miss a day of hunting when I don’t know if I’ll get another break this winter.”

  Mrs. Everdeen sets the stew she’s been working to simmer and walks over to help Prim out, deftly tying the ribbon in a well-practiced bow.

  “Thanks mom,” Prim says, before turning back to Katniss.

  “But Katniss, tomorrow’s Christmas. You can’t spend the day hunting; you were out there all day today. What about presents?”

  Katniss sets down her work and looks up at her sister. “Prim, You’re eighteen now. You know we don’t need presents, right? It’s just a made-up holiday the new Capitol thrust upon us to get people to spend money on frivolous gifts nobody needs anyway. We can celebrate the new year next week, like always.”

  “That’s not true, Katniss. It’s not a made up holiday. We used to celebrate with daddy. Right mom?”

  “That’s right, Prim,” their mother agrees with a nod.

  “Well, that was a long time ago,” Katniss huffs. “Things have changed, if you haven’t noticed.

   “So you’re not coming to the party at the Hawthornes tonight?” Mrs. Everdeen asks as she ties the ribbon on the last gift.

  “Sorry, nope. I already told Gale I wasn’t coming. I’m going to get to bed as soon as I’m done here so I can head out at the break of dawn and spend all day in the woods,” Katniss explains.

  Prim turns back to her mother. “Mom, make her come with us, please.”

  “I can’t make her go, Prim,” Mrs. Everdeen says as she caresses Prim’s cheek. She heads back to her stew pot and begins to ladle several servings into a crock, leaving just enough in the pot for Katniss’ dinner. “Put the gifts in a sack, please. Katniss has a mind of her own, always has. If she doesn’t want to go, we can’t make her, but I think she’ll be missing out on some good fun.” Mrs. Everdeen looks over at Katniss with a pointed look.

  “Yeah, yeah,” Katniss says. “Someone needs to make sure we have food to eat around here.” And with that, the conversation is over. 

  Prim and Mrs. Everdeen head over to the Hawthorne’s home and Katniss cleans up her work, eats her stew, and heads off to bed.

  Chapter 2

  Katniss is startled awake by the sound of someone stumbling around in the kitchen. She looks across the room and sees Buttercup standing guard on the empty bed. Her mother and Prim are still at the party.

  It’s not unusual for a patient to show up for her mother in the middle of the night, but they don’t usually just walk right in. Katniss slips out of bed without making a sound, signaling to Buttercup to keep quiet, but he jumps off the bed and runs down the hall. Katniss grabs the large stick she keeps under her bed in case a critter gets in. It should take care of any unwanted human as well.

  She creeps out of the bedroom and avoids stepping on the creaky floorboard just past her mother’s bedroom. As she peeks around the doorframe into the kitchen she sees someone rifling through the kitchen cabinets.

  As she tip-toes up to the trespasser, silent as a mouse, she raises her weapon above her head with both hands. If she’s going to strike, she’s going to make sure she does some damage. She takes in a deep breath and the intruder must hear because he straightens up and begins to turn around.

  She hears the stranger say, “You don’t want to do that,” before she brings the club down with all her might. But it doesn’t make contact until it slams into the floor. She must have squeezed her eyes closed before swinging because she has to open them to see how she could have possibly missed at this short distance.

  She looks up and sees the transparent, smiling face of Haymitch Abernathy, District 12’s recently deceased victor. “Nice to see you too, Sweetheart. Got anything to drink around here?”

  Katniss stumbles back, dragging her club with her until the backs of her legs hit the armchair in the living room and she plops down. “H-h-how can you be here? You’re d-d-dead,” she sputters as she pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around the useless weapon.

  “Yeah, I know,” he laments. “Thanks for coming to my funeral, by the way.”

  “Of course, you were one of my best customers,” Katniss answers. “What am I saying? Is this some kind of Capitol trick? How are you here? Why are you here?”

  “It’s no trick, Sweetheart,” Haymitch explains. “The dead who isolated themselves during their lifetime are forced to roam the earth alone. My penance is to warn others before it’s too late. You don’t want to end up like me.”

  “I’m not alone,” Katniss squeaks. “I have my sister, and my mother… I have friends.”

  “Sure Katniss. You have them now, but you keep pushing them away. In time, your sister will marry and move away, and your mother will die. Then what will you have?”

  Katniss opens her mouth to answer, but Haymitch raises his transparent hand to stop her. 

  “Don’t bother with the excuses, Sweetheart. I know them all. This is my warning to you. You will be visited by three more spirits tonight. Heed my warning, Katniss. Change your life before it’s too late.”

[shyrose57]

2nd part than.

8: (This ones longgggg) Their rooms all have the same beige (like brown mushroom color) walls and floors. As their not allowed to change that. But Watson has some bookshelves in his room along with a old adventurer cape that goes in front of his body and hangs to his ankles (Item-Ya Adventurer Cape is a perfect example. Idk the actual name for the kind of cape it is), some display cases featuring his strongest bows and arrows, along with a sword and axe, along with pictures of the group toghere and pictures from his travels on the walls, he has a single lone desk that is only used when designing new bows or arrows. Ran also has bookshelves, but his is bigger and takes up a whole wall, he also as a winter cape with fur on its shoulders hung up (he lived in a snow biome for a little while and made the cape himself), along with a single weapon case that features a lone damaged neitherite sword, he also has chests stacked along a wall filled with random stuff that he sometimes gives as gifts or uses to throw at people. Jackie has a few paintings and posters in his room, along with the only carpet in any bedroom (that he totally didnt steal from Grievous), a panting easel, he has a single display case in his room that displays the sword Porkius gave him for winning, theres also pictures of the group toghere and a small chest next to his bed filled with things that belongs to someone in the group. Grievous has a small bookshelf (one book is a naming book Watson jokingly gave him), a chest filled to the brim with blankets and pillows (cause for him comfort is a necessity), he also has a desk that he tends to fall asleep at when doing literally anything on it. Everyone also has a good sized wardrobe somewhere in their room that is filled with different outfits and w statue stands with either iron armour or empty. There is also a four-way-bunkbed in the living room/area, they typically use it when someone is having or had a very bad day and needs comfort, or when Jackie's separation anxiety is bad and needs to sleep with everyone nearby. 

Ran loves reading and sometimes gets mad when someone intrupts his reading. Watson loves designing new bows and arrows and just designing weapons in general (Grievous does too and helps him sometimes). Jackie likes to paint and has a interest in adventuring one day. They are well known but only in Subbin and surrounding cities. Though word does travel about them at times which can bring people to Subbin. They have 2 titles actually! First is used in typical matches, while the second is used in more formal or serious matches (like those for general). Ran: The Enderman, Partikel Tari (Dancing Particles, referencing how when he fights when serious its like he's dancing as he teleports around the field). Watson: The Archer, Multi (Referencing how he has more experience than anyone in the use of all kinds of weapons and can quickly adjust to situations). Grievous: Multi-Named, Unpredictable (referring to how he is by far the most unpredictable person in serious battles). Jackie: The Child, Diremehake (Underestimated, referring to how he gets underestimated a lot during any battle). They get recognized quite often and get called their stage names, when they dont want to deal with people recognizing them they often either yell at them to go away or just run away. 

9: They do all of the above! It depends on the match up (Jackie and Watson stay out of eachothers way mostly, Ran and Grievous make it one on one, and Ran and Jackie take them out quick). Oh the first time Ran threw Jackie was hailours. You could hear Watson screaming from the stands in fear and Jackie just head-butted the guy in the stomach. Then when Jackie recovered he just yelled for Ran to throw him again, and once again you could hear Watson screaming no and threats at them from the stands. Ran agreed and threw Jackie at the last person, who he just bear hugged as he hit and held them down. Then after the battle Watson smacked the two and chastised them.

10: At first he drops stuff and trips over his feet on a regular basis. But after about 3 weeks he fully regains his balance, and is able to finally walk without tripping at the start. While the attempts at bonding do work to get Ranbob and Cletus closer the two never get as close as the rest. Neither can really name what's stopping them from getting closer though. For the first week people need to constantly remind Ranbob to do all of those things. As he thinks the constant hunger, thirst, and tiredness is all normal when its not and their trying to get him to understand that. And while he eventually starts to do it himself, theres still some nights where he doesnt eat or drink or sleep. They just leave the two in the house, but later they do start to expand the house a bit to fit the new addition. He does not get his own place up, he just gives up after some time. He doesn't fall asleep out there to often thankfully, but since the house keeps falling on him he does get cuts and bruises quite often. He gets stuck in a rain storm only 2 times which isn't bad, but he does get semi-bad burns from them sadly that Benjamin has to sit him down for and have Charles distract him for long enough to wrap his wounds properly. And it only took Benjamin like 4 weeks before he finally got fed up and forced him inside and had him stay with them. He has dealt with a storm before when he was young! But it was when he was about 12 so its been a long while. 

11: He spends all of his free time glaring at them. And for the first few days whenever he sees someone from his group hanging around his brothers, he'll go over and pick em up and just carry them away. The fishermen worry for a bit that Ran may hurt them, but Watson assured them that Ran knows the two groups like eachother and wouldn't hurt them incase that could hurt his families feelings. 

12: Ranbob is extremely happy about potentially getting new members of his family! And eagerly tries to talk with them. But Ran is far less happy and actively avoids them (and drags his family away at times).

13: At the start they have no idea where their going. But when Grievous brings up about Rans damaged sword they decide to find a nether portal so they can find whats needed to repair his sword! And Watson decides on the way he can show them all the different biomes in the world, which Jackie is extremely excited for. 

14: If the fishermen get separated from Ranbob for too long he actively goes and searches for them. And refuses to stop until he finds them. When upset Ran loves to pick up members of his Haunting, though he doesnt do them often as he knows his Haunting doesn't like it when he does it to often. He and Ranbob also pick up blocks though as it's a comfort action and soothes them. Cuddles piles do happen! They happen more for Ranbob to comfort him after a nightmare or just a bad day, or when he basically relapses and wants to go back to Dream. But cuddle piles are more rare in Rans group, as cuddle piles only happen when anyone is doing really badly mentally or physically and just need comfort, or when they all just need some comfort. But their much more sentimental and have more meaning than Ranbobs groups. 

15: Oh definitely. I forget if I included it when I first introduced my Au. But soon after Ran escaped Mizu, he was hunted for his pearl and respawn ability. Though he killed the people hunting him. Every year he was out of Mizu and every year before he entered Subbin he was hunted by multiple groups. He's become legend just for avoiding so many groups and killing a vast majority of them. He's known as the "Green Eyed Enderman." and is a top goal amongst hunters. There are some times Ran got jumped in Subbin for being a hybrid but he quickly defeated them. 

Karl has played his role in this! Though maybe I could make it so he comes in later on during a really difficult part between the  brothers, and helps out. Using his own experiences in the SMP and seeing what ruined relationships like brothers does to someone and others, to make sure their relationship doesn't stay so broken and hurt so many people. Maybe at the end I'll have them go back and face Dream so Ranbob (and even Ran slightly, with how Dreams presence affected him) can finally be completely free. As of rn no one has a pet. But that question made me really want to give someone a raven and idk who. I want to have bits of the other Tales in it! Im not quite sure how yet but I want this to be a mostly Tales ONLY au (no main SMP stuff unless needed or necessary) as the Tales don't have enough love. He does write down the experience he had with the Dream Experience and writes down very important things, but other than that he leaves it behind. 

Im really happy to hear that you like my au. I love world and story building a lot and can't control how much I write sometimes, again im sorry this is so long and I'll do my best to not make anything this long ever again. Sorry if this bothered you

8: Sounds pretty interesting, overall. Was Watson-as his cape suggest-perhaps an adventurer? And he designs his own bows and arrows? Very cool. What kind of things does he come up with?  Ran also sounds like he’s traveled a bit. He knows how to sew? Has he ever made anything for anyone else? Where did he get his sword? Jackie’s got a carpet? Very nice, he deserves it. And a painting easel? How good is he at painting? Or is it more of something he’s just trying? Grievous sounds like he could build a very good pillow fort, and honestly, good for him. How often do they camp out in the bunk bed room? 

Ran not liking being interrupted is understandable. Does he ever read to anyone, or is it more some alone time for him? Grievous and Watson must design some terrifying weapons. Where is Jackie looking at adventuring to? Anywhere specific, or just around? And what language(s) is Ran and Jackie’s secondary titles in? Latin? 

9: Very smart of them, means it’ll be harder to pick up a pattern. And hearing about Ran tossing Jackie-I’m laughing. I’m not going to lie, kind of assumed it was planned pre-match, but hearing that they just decided to throw him? Watson’s reaction? Just...hilarious. Was Jackie even prepared for it, or did Ran just toss them without warning? Honestly, it kind of sounds like people might come to the Pit for the comedy just as much for the fighting. If this was the kind of thing that went down, I’d probably come to watch.

10: Oh no, Ranbob! At least he’s getting better. So Cletus and Ranbob never quite click, huh? Well, that’s alright. Sometimes people just don’t. Doesn’t mean they don’t care about each other! Ranbob thinking it’s normal, oh god. Does he ever say something along those lines, or get confused why the others are so worried about it? If so, how do the fishermen react to that question, and how does Ranbob react to the answer. As for the house, well. He can say he tried if nothing else-and hey, funny story to share with the gladiators later on. It’s good that he wasn’t caught in too many storms, less that he was caught in some at all. I’m sure that was a big help in convincing Benjamin to finally just put his foot down, which, honestly good for him. You go, Benjamin!

11: Ran, bud, chill. I like how you said his free time though-my first thought was that he immediately finished a book and went over to glare at them. Probably not true, but a hilarious mental image. Very glad Watson has reassured the fishermen-how did Ranbob react to that worry of theirs?

12: Ran’s actions are pretty understandable, but still a bit sad. How does Ranbob feel about them? Is he resigned? Determined? Upset?

13: Adventure! Into possibly dangerous places! How fun! Can’t wait to see where it goes. What do they see? What’s the first stop? How long are they heading off?

14: He won’t stop? Like, potentially will work himself into the ground won’t stop? Ran just picks up his members like blocks. And, oh boy. Ranbob wanting to go back to Dream? That’s just. Oof. Very much oof. How do the fishermen deal with that, and how do they feel about it?

15: Ran sounds like he’s had a less than enjoyable time out there. Do these hunters ever go after them once they leave Subbin? Do they target Ranbob? I mean, he’s another Endermen hybrid, and one who definitely isn’t as skilled as Ran, or as used to them. He’d be a much easier target.

So Karl’s gonna come in towards the end. Nice. Ran was also affected by Dream? How so? Obviously less than his brother, but did he ever notice? Did Ranbob? Sounds like it’d be a good final showdown, over all.

As for that pet raven, may I offer some suggestions? You could give one to Jackie and Grievous, so it can help them cause havoc, or maybe one to Benjamin, so it can help him keep an eye on his dorks. Maybe even Cletus, to help snag things, and mess with people, or Isaac, maybe to help find things. Even Watson, or one of the brothers, to help keep watch over their groups. Really, you could give any of these guys a raven. Depending on said bird’s personality, it could fit anywhere. Just depends on what you want to do with it.

I completely agree with you, we need more Tales AUs. Ranbob and Ran did come from what was basically a city of historians, perhaps you could use that to tie in the other Tales? Or even have them across the old ruins of areas on their adventure. Even chunk in more time travel, via Karl or otherwise, if you want to toss in more characters.

Ranbob pretty much starts over then. Good for him. How does Ran feel about that? Actually, who was Ran’s idol, and his general life on Mizu, before the Dream incident?

Other questions:

One thing I’d like to know is how the groups react to each other’s experiences and general life styles. Like for one, Ranbob and the fishermen generally seem more physically affectionate with each other, while Ran and the gladiators seem fairly less so, but no less close. 

For another, the fishermen probably still remind Ranbob to eat or sleep, which would probably seem a bit confusing for the gladiators. How much do they know about both sides? Obviously enough for them to want to help get the brothers back together, but like.

How much do the gladiators believe Ranbob’s side. Are they wary, or skeptical, or do they believe it completely, and if so, why? 

How long was Ran left running, evading hunters, and how has that affected him? How many times do both brothers say something concerning, and how do they react to what the other says?

You’ve said Ranbob occasionally relapses and wants to return to Dream. Does this happen on the trip? And if so, how do the gladiators react to such a thing-depending on how much they know about the whole thing, I can imagine mixed reactions. How does Ran react?

How do both groups react to the new endermen hybrids? They seem to have dealt with different instincts before now, so seeing Ranbob trail the fishermen and Ran just pick up the gladiators must be a bit strange. 

What can Ranbob keep down? Not only was Dream in control, and not particularly careful with his body, but supplies were probably also somewhat limited when he did eat. So how has that affected him? 

Are there any nicknames within in the groups? How do the gladiators react to the schedule change, considering they had set times for so much before? How do the fishermen react to the new areas? What habits are/become shared, and what habits are restricted to one group.

In general, just...how the fishermen and the gladiators differ in lifestyles, basically. 

For another, in one of the earlier post, you mentioned both Isaac and Cletus wanted to return to Mizu. Isaac kind of gives me a historian vibe himself, or some sort of archaeologists. Just a kind of person who wants to learn about history-perhaps something to do with the fact that he was played by Karl, and the whole time traveler thing. 

But anyway, what exactly did those two want to do down there? Explore, learn, steal?

And how would you say everyone’s personalities are like? Will you be introducing anymore characters, Tales or otherwise. It’d be interesting to see a Pit version of Tommy, or Puffy, or such.

How does Ran react when he finally accepts the truth, and what exactly pushes him to that? 

Hope this isn’t too many questions. I’m pretty invested, not gonna lie.

And seriously, I don’t mind the length. Long or short, I’m really just happy to hear more about your AU, and I look forward to more.

[inkrabbit]

Kiss Goodnight - Kieran x GN!Reader (18+)

I told y’all, I couldn’t let this idea go. When I was working on a crossover/time travel story, I had wanted to do this. But since I’ve basically scrapped the story, I decided that I would use this idea for a sort of shipping story. If I ever rewrite that old fic, I’ll still use this.

WARNING: Major spoilers for the storyline, graphics descriptions of blood and gore, and swearing! If any of this makes you uncomfortable, please don’t read!

Summary: They did this to him, those bastards. The sweetest man you could meet, and he had been brutally attacked. You’re in no better shape yourself, but you’ll be damned if you’re leaving Kieran tied up in this disgusting basement. And with his sobbing pleads, how could you turn your back on him?

Word count: 2,400

“You are not going out there, and that is an order!”

“Someone’s gotta give a damn about him, Dutch! What if he’s hurt?”

“The boy’s fine! Now-”

“YOU DON’T KNOW THAT!”

  You had waited until the early morning, waiting for Bill to end his shift for guard duty and John to start his. You knew how slow they were, and when the coast was clear, you took your chance. Gathering everything you could, you mounted your horse and dug your spurs into the animal’s sides, starting down the path, eyes squinted to try and see through the thick fog. You had a rough idea of where you were headed, the stable boy having voiced his concerns with you some nights ago.

  Oh, Kieran. You knew you should’ve kept a closer eye on him that night. How he had stumbled into the woods as the party died down, a beer bottle in his hand. You felt guilty. You should’ve gone with him, and now his disappearance was eating at you. Mary-Beth’s questions didn’t help you feel any better, either. She had asked other members if they had seen Kieran, but she was met with the familiar shake of the head and low “no”.

  Then there was Dutch, nonchalant as ever. You had wanted to knock him upside the head when he rolled his eyes at you, sounding unconcerned as you suggested a search party for your missing member. It made your blood boil when he waved his hand and took a drag of his cigar, telling you Kieran would find his way back, as if he were some pup that had run off. The bastard.

  You couldn’t stop thinking of the night Kieran had finally told you of the O’Driscolls. His frightened face and paranoid attitude. He told you about the men he had seen close by the camp, and he confided in you with a hideout he had heard of when he still ran with the gang. You should’ve attached yourself to the man’s hip to make sure this wouldn’t happen, but you figured you were all hidden enough. You figured someone on guard duty would’ve noticed shuffling in the trees - would’ve noticed someone dragging your friend away. You at least wished someone else would’ve cared enough to go looking for him.

  It was a suicide run and you knew it. Going against a group of O’Driscolls all alone. You knew you weren’t as tough as Arthur, but you had something the man didn’t: stealth. And it was the only hope you could cling to as you heard voices up ahead. Your stomach dropped when you saw Branwen hitched to a nearby post, pawing anxiously at the ground and looking around. You moved your own horse to the side, hidden behind the thick bushes and tall trees. You removed the old bow Charles had gifted you, slinging your quiver over your shoulder and placing the arrows inside. You double checked to make sure your knife was in its sheath, having sharpened it earlier that night when you were seated in camp plotting. Moving your bandana up to cover your face, you make your way for the edge of the camp. No, you weren’t as tough as Arthur was, but you were going to do what that whole gang couldn’t be bothered to do: save one of your own.

  They’re not grouped together, much to your delight. You start with the ones on guard duty, readying your arrow and pulling back, aiming for their heads before you released. Once you heard them fall with a satisfying thud, you moved forward, going to retrieve the bloody arrow and ready yourself for another shot. You looked at these men as what they were; animals. You tried to pretend you were just hunting, and in some way, you were. Hunting down the animals that took away the sweetest man you had met, remembering all Charles had taught you whenever you two went hunting together. Keep low, watch your surroundings, and don’t shoot unless you’re absolutely sure. If you’re getting too flustered, take a deep breath in, hold it, and steady your aim. And that’s what you did when you felt your adrenaline pumping, rage coursing through your veins when soft sobbing made its way to your ears. It had to be him. It had to.

  You let yourself indulge in a kill, sneaking up behind a man that was crouched beside the scout fire. You reached out, wrapping your hand over his mouth, using your other to bring your knife around and cut along his neck. It was disgusting, hearing him gag on his own blood as he dropped to the ground, but it helped calm you. With every O’Driscoll you took down, you found yourself closer to your goal - closer to bringing Kieran home and making sure he was safe. And when your arrow shot through the last guard’s throat, you allowed yourself to finally calm down. This was it. You were going to go get him, bring him home, chastise the holy hell out of Dutch, and maybe even run off with Kieran. It was wishful thinking, but it wasn’t a secret you had been sweet on the man.

“Kieran?” You tried to keep your voice hushed as you grabbed the metal handles that led to the cellar, pulling them open with a grunt. You knew it was him when he started yelling, voice muffled and shuffling coming from inside. You allowed yourself to fall into a false sense of security, hurrying down to free him. His screaming only increased when you were thrown to the ground. It had all gone so quick, your mouth opening as your back slammed into the ground, the wind being knocked out of you as you felt a sharp pain enter your side. No. No, this isn’t how it was supposed to go.

  You’re on autopilot at this point, not even registering your own knife in your hand until it’s embedded deep in the O’Driscoll’s temple. The blood drips onto your face and the adrenaline kicks back in, dulling the pain when the man’s body falls limp, pressing the knife deeper into your side. You huff as you rip your knife out of his skull, shoving his body off of yours and laying there. Kieran’s sobs are replaced with white noise as you gaze up at the dusty ceiling, trying to comprehend everything happening. You slowly reach up, grasping the handle of the hunting knife and pulling, ripping it out of your side. A gasp escapes you, filling your lungs and bringing you back to reality. It hurt. It hurt so bad, but you couldn’t lay here. No, you weren’t going to just die here in front of the man you just spent the night looking for. You wouldn’t traumatize him anymore than he already was.

  When you force yourself up, that’s when you see it. A lump forms in your throat as you stagger upright, tears falling from your eyes. Kieran was hanging before you, his wrists tied together by old rope and looking close to bleeding. A dirty cloth had acted as a gag, muffling his sobs and soft pleads, but it’s his eyes that do it for you. His once sweet, green colored eyes were replaced with empty sockets, bloody and stained with tears.

“K-Kieran,” you choke out, scurrying forward to take his face in your hands. He flinches at first, but finally allows himself to nuzzle against your gentle touch, his chest heaving as he continues to wails. Fresh tears are rolling down his cheeks, and it’s enough to get you to join him, bringing his head forward to hold it against your chest. You couldn’t understand how they could do this to such a sweet man. It wasn’t fair. You stroked your hand through his dirty and knotted hair, trying your best to shush him through shaky breaths.

“I’m gonna get you out of here,” you promise as you pull his face back, stroking his cheeks as your voice cracks. He nods frantically, breathing heavily as he tries to control himself. The first thing you do is take hold of your knife, cutting him free of his binds and having to catch him when his knees buckle beneath him. He’s wobbly but finally stands, holding onto you for dear life as you remove the gag from his mouth, letting it hang loosely around his neck. He’s thanking you softly, stuttering more than you’ve ever heard before. You remove your bandana, folding it up before going to wrap it around his eyes, acting as a blindfold. You didn’t want any more gunk getting inside the sockets, and god forbid someone from camp saw you two return, you didn’t want them to see Kieran in this state.

  He allows you to wrap his eyes up, holding your hand and squeezing tightly as you slowly lead him out of the cellar. You’re limping, free hand holding onto the wound you’ve recently gotten. You can feel the blood seeping out, but you force yourself to stay strong. You whistle for your horse, making sure you two were alone as you led him over to Branwen. You keep your voice soft and calm as you guide him over, handing him the reins and doing your best to help him up and onto the saddle. Your own horse has to lower itself to the ground when it notices you struggling, letting you mount up a lot easier than pulling yourself up. Once you’re both ready to go, you reach out to take Branwen’s rein in one hand, guiding the horse as you start for Shady Belle.

“Y-you ca-ame for me,” Kieran chokes out, his voice still shaky as his body trembles. You don’t want to imagine all he’s been through. “You...”

“Wasn’t gonna leave you,” you tell him, going to take his hand in your own and stroke his knuckles. His bottom lip trembles, threatening to have him break down again. You go back to softly shushing him. “I’m gonna get you home, and I’m gonna fix you up.”

“W-where... w-where are the o-others?” he asks, “Is-is a-anyone e-else with ya?”

“It’s just me,” You can’t stop the bitter tone that laces your words, but you feel Kieran give your hand a squeeze.

“T-thank you. Thank you,” He’s almost breathless, but you can hear him softly start crying again. You mimic the squeeze, continuing to stroke his knuckles.

  By the time the two of you get back to the mansion, you’re feeling woozy and weak. You noticed the color had drained from your hands, but you try not to think about it. Slow and deep breaths, keep your eyes open. You don’t go to the normal hitching area. Instead, you both take a different route, avoiding John and keeping yourselves hidden. You almost fall trying to dismount, and you have to reassure Kieran that you’re fine. He holds you close when you help him down from Branwen, and you lie when he asks about the wet spot on your shirt, telling him it belonged to an O’Driscoll. It wasn’t entirely a lie, but you knew a good majority of it was yours.

  You grunt as you push the doors open, leading Kieran inside and setting him down on a chair. You stumble slightly as you go to retrieve the old canteen on the dining table, hearing the water slosh around inside. An old cloth had fallen to the floor, probably from one of the girls when they were cleaning. You pick it up, gritting your teeth and trying to suppress a painful groan as you bend over. You open the canteen, pouring some water out and onto the cloth before reaching for Kieran. You wipe away the dirt and dried blood from his face, focusing on the way his pale skin slowly looks like it’s coming back to life.

  You’re not prepared when he hesitantly brings his hands up, reaching out and fumbling to gently grasp your neck. You freeze, allowing him to slide his hands up to your face, cupping and stroking your cheeks. A soft sigh escapes your lips and you reach a hand of your own up to place it over one of his.

“I was scared,” you confess to him softly, tears filling your eyes once more. “Thought I... thought I’d never see you again...”

“I wish I could see you,” he whimpers, and you feel him tighten just that little bit. You tilt your head, going to press a soft kiss to his palm before nuzzling into it.

“Never should’ve... left you alone,” you sigh. It’s getting harder to keep your eyes open, but you’re hellbent on saying all the things you didn’t before. “You mean a lot... to me, Kieran. So much.”

  You don’t hear what he says in response, but you sniffle as you feel a tear escape your eye. You continue to speak to him, even if it’s getting harder. You tell him how thankful you were to have met him, and how you wished you would’ve found him sooner. You express your hatred for Dutch and not sending someone to go looking for him earlier, and you break down when you tell him the worst you had feared. When your feelings for him slip out, he stops your rambling by tugging at your face. You let him bring you closer, his chapped lips awkwardly finding their way to yours. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to melt into his gentle touch and bask in this. You hate feeling him pull away, and his concerned voice seems to be getting farther and farther. You feel so weak, breathing heavier. Not yet, please. Just some more time.

  Hosea’s yelling is the only thing that properly comes through, and even then it’s muffled. You fall back into the old man’s arms, staring up at him through half lidded eyes as he calls out for help. His hand grabs yours, squeezing harshly as he barks at you to stay awake, desperately smacking your cheek in an attempt to get your attention. You feel a smile tug at your lips.

“I got him back,” you tell him softly. You can see Dutch, Arthur and Miss Grimshaw crowd around you, worried looks on their faces as Dutch falls to his knees to cover the wound on your side. “I got him back...”

[yellowsugarwords]

Okay, I thought of this when I was bored but, imagine if telltale introduced a girl about Clem’s age in like season 4 at Ericson right, imagine if she tells Clem her full name and Clem recognizes the last name “Paul” thus making the girl bens sister

I LOVE THIS

Clementine hated strangers approaching the Ericson gates.

Especially when it was the middle of the night.

It seldom ended well.

But this time, spotting the small frame approach their gates, it felt different.

“Hey!” Clem yelled.

She slapped the side of the wooden watch tower -

The quietest way to alert the school without alerting walkers -

And swung down the ladder.

Mitch, doing rounds, darted for the gates.

Louis and Marlon tumbled out of the front doors.

Violet stood guard on the front steps,

Marlon’s bow and arrow in her arms.

“Stop!” Mitch yelled,

Cocking his gun.

It wasn’t loaded.

They only ever used it as a threat.

It always worked.

“Please don’t shoot me!” The stranger called.

Their voice was delicate and fragile,

Like porcelain in the air.

Clem lifted a hand to Mitch,

Disarming him,

And approached the gates herself.

In the darkness, she couldn’t quite make out the figure.

“Where did you come from?”

“I don’t know.”

“Are you with anyone?”

“No.” There was a quiver in their voice.

“What are you here for?”

There was a shaky breath.

“I’m just looking for shelter. I’m sorry.” They hushed.

The Ericson kids behind Clem eased.

“I can just leave. Please don’t kill me.”

Clem felt her heart ache.

“How old are you?” She finally asked.

Another sob. “I don’t know.”

Her voice grew more and more defeated with each passing question.

“What’s your name?” Clem asked softly.

Her hands lifted toward the lock, snapping it open.

Marlon placed a hand on Clem’s shoulder.

She shook it off.

“Stacey Paul.”

Just as Clem began opening the gates, her heart stopped.

“Paul?”

The girl whimpered. “Please don’t hurt me.”

“I won’t, I promise.” She hushed, hand extended.

More so in peace than anything.

“Paul? Your last name is Paul?”

She sniffled. “Yes.”

Clementine hesitated, her fingers quivering.

The others noticed.

Cautiously, Louis approached and set a hand on her shoulder.

Steadying her.

His grip was different from Marlon’s.

Not controlling, but reassuring.

She continued. “Did you have a brother named Ben?”

She was going to ask more questions, but the name itself prompted a sob from the young girl.

That was answer enough.

Clementine slipped forward.

Cautiously, Louis followed.

Marlon, cautiously, adjusted his grip on Charles.

Just in case.

“I knew Ben,” Clem said, approaching meekly.

She paused in front of the girl, finally able to see her.

She was as tall as Clementine.

With long brown hair woven into a braid down her back.

Her cheeks were pale and haunted.

Her clothes, tattered and ruined.

“How?” She wept softly.

Clementine frowned sadly, the worry of a potential threat long gone.

“He was my friend. A few years ago, when all of this started.”

“He was away at school.” She sobbed.

“With Travis.”

Stacey cried harder; the confirmation she needed.

“You did know him.”

Clem smiled sadly.

Her aching for the girl.

She remembered this devastation.

The same feeling she felt when she found her parents so long ago.

“He talked about you lots.”

Then, without another word, Clem wrapped her arms around the girl,

Brought her close,

And whisked her in through the front gates.

“Welcome to your new home.” Clem said softly,

Nodding sternly to her schoolmates.

None of them dared question her.

Even Marlon felt a pang of guilt in his chest.

“You’re safe here.” Clem assured gently. “You found your shelter.”

For the most part, they left her to herself that night.

Wanting her to get comfortable at her own pace.

On her own rules.

But the next day, Clem taught her how to chop wood.

And let her cook with Omar.

The next day, she went fishing with Violet,

Set the table with Ruby,

And worked the lookout post with Mitch.

She grew accustomed to the group, over time.

She let Violet cut her hair,

And let Mitch teach her how to middle wood.

Marlon taught her how to hunt,

And Louis taught her how to aim a bow-and-arrow.

Stacey hadn’t felt this at home in ages.

Not since she was with her family.

Back before their world had been destroyed.

[eveenstar]

remembering the stars ┃Javier Escuella x Jedi! Reader ┃ Star Wars AU

Chapter II: The bear and the witch

❥ Chapter I

Tags/Warnings: Mentions of killing animals (deer and bear), death and war. Reader has she/her pronouns.

Author's note: Hello! Here's chapter 2 of what will become a somewhat short series. We'll see! Hope you enjoy! ❤

Taglist: @bdb1993

The sun was cold today. It felt cold on your back as you went through your day, the memories of last night's occurences haunting your mind like living nightmares. It was currently nine am and most of the gang was already up and on the run around camp. You stayed on your own.

"Mornin' (Y/N)." Hosea, who had been watching you for the past minutes, knew something was off. "Mind keeping company to this old man?"

You gently chuckled and took a seat next to him. "You're not an old man, Hosea." He smiled at you with soft eyes before his hand reached out to yours.

"I saw you and Javier yesterday." You furrowed your eyebrows a bit in confusion. "Look (Y/N), whatever you need, we're here for you."

You watched his serene eyes for a few moments. Hosea had been nothing but a friend to you since you had arrived, it reminded you of your old master. You knew he cared deeply for the gang and would do anything in his power to not let it fall apart. Sadly, not everyone appreciated it.

"Thank you, but it's nothing, really." You assured him but didn't seem convincing enough. "I probably should go, I'm going hunting with Charles."

You got up and ready to leave, yet you felt like more things were left to say. You hoped no one else asked more questions about your past, it was bad enough having to make up a story, omitting certain parts. It didn't matter now; going hunting with Charles wouldn't certainly keep your mind off things.

With a bow in hand, your eyes moved past your lightsaber which was well hidden inside a locked box, underneath other stuff you managed to save. You glanced over to Javier, who smiled and nodded at you before moving his attention back to his guitar. Your feet felt heavy as you walked over to Charles, near the horses.

"Are we taking the horses?" You asked while patting your horse, Warrior.

"I know a place not far from here, but we get there faster with the horses." Charles replied, already on top of his horse. "You got everythin'?" You nodded.

The journey to the hunting grounds Charles had choosen was peaceful. The wind was moving through your hair and kissed your skin with a slight shiver. Not a word was spoken between the pair of you, but it wasn't needed, there was a silent understanding that all needed now was the connection you both felt with nature. The Force was strong with this planet as it was with you.

The journey to Earth was a troubled one. Your ship was in bad shape so you used an escape pod, which ended up crashing in the snow mountains. Fear and confusion clouded your mind as you fought to keep yourself awake while seeking for shelter and help. That was when you ran into Javier and Arthur helping a wounded John. They were shocked, to say the least. «Woman dressed in strange clothes wandering through the snow» was what Arthur described you. You still had your Jedi outfit which took you lots of convincing to fool them to think it was a nurse outfit from Europe. They were all weary of you at first, but you were glad that this specific part of the Unknown Regions was still safe.

With time, you earned their trust and your place. You tried to camouflage your presence from the Force but you didn't close yourself completely to it. Sometimes, when time allowed, you'd meditate and train your abilities. Once you had tried to reach to your master, Plo Koon, but you gave up in fears of being found, yet you knew something had happened to him.

You remember it all as if it was yesterday.

"(Y/N)?" Charles' voice made you jump and you lifted your head to look at him. "Everythin' alright?"

"Yes, just got lost in thoughts. Sorry." You both stopped near the entrance of another forest. Charles explained further the instructions; it was rather easy. There were some deers around here, so if you both managed to hunt two at least, Pearson wouldn't complain about the lack of food for the rest of the week.

"We follow this track and it should lead us to a good spot." He showed you a map marked with red circles. You asked him if he'd been here before. "Once or twice with Arthur. Just be careful with the bears."

The forest felt light. Butterflies flew past you, the birds were singing in the trees, small rabbit played with each other, everything was what it was supposed to be.

Charles and you walked for a few minuted until eventually you reached a spot. Near a small highland and stones to hide behind, there was a deer distracted eating. You didn't enjoy killing animals but you made sure to honor their death. You held tight to your bow, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes you let the Force guide you.

Seconds of silence and you heard the deer falling to the ground right after the first arrow was shot. When you first began hunting with Charles, he was admired by your talent with a bow and arrow, you even taught him a few tricks. You explained that it was your father that taught you.

"Next one is mine." He warned with a smile.

You laughed while making your way to the deer. "Let's see if you're as good as I am." You looked over your shoulder just in time to see a shadow rising from behind Charles, who was unaware of it. "Charles!" It was too late for him to escape in time, so in the heat of the moment you used the Force to hold the bear up in the air.

"What the-" Almost falling to his feet, Charles looked between you and the bear. It was costing you too much of your strenght.

"Charles run, now!" The bear was thrown against a tree while Charles ran behind the fallen rocks and began shooting at the animal, who lost no time in charging towards you. But by the time the bear reached you, he fell to your feet.

"(Y/N), what-what was that?" You blinked a few times before looking back at your friend, who was bewildered staring at you. You reached out to him.

"Charles, please, you can't tell anyone what you saw." You grabbed his hand, holding it tightly. He sighed.

"I knew there was something different about you but...." He hesitated, "Be honest with me, (Y/N). Are you - Are you a witch?"

You could see the worry and confusion behind his dark eyes. He wasn't scared of you, he was confused and curious. You could never lie to Charles more than you already do, was this the right thing to do? Would he understand?

You looked down to your feet with a heavy heart and loud mind.

"No, I am..." You took another deep breath. "I am a Jedi."

There was a tense atmosphere and you were expecting the worst of the worst. Charles remained in silence.

After a few moments, he spoke up.

"You're a J - Jedi?" The name clicked on his tongue as a new word was added to his dictionary. "What is that?"

"I'll explain to you later. Let's just head back to camp before they send someone looking for us." You turned away, already grabbing your things and heading back to your horse in a hurry. You could hear Charles sighing loudly before following after you with the dead deer.

You hoped Charles would keep quiet about this but you'd also have lots of explaining to do now. How are you supposed to explain what the Force and intergalactic civilizations are to a being who comes from a planet that's isolated from everything else? Perhaps Charles was the only one who noticed you were slightly different from the others and maybe something good would come out of this. To have someone who knows you and you can share your thoughts and fears to truly would be a gift of the Force.

But now you still had a three hour long horse ride back to camp with an awkward silence. Let's hope the Force is with you on this one.

[fedeipox]

The Way of Time (Rdr2 fanfic) - Chapter 4 (3/3)

Alright, this is one of my favorite parts. I love Charles with all myself and even if this story is Arthur-centered I couldn’t leave my baby aside.<3

Part 1 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/637601250039496704/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-4-13

Part 2 here: https://fedeipox.tumblr.com/post/637872924264693760/the-way-of-time-rdr2-fanfic-chapter-4-23

Chapter 4 (3/3) - Fears

Words: 3k

As they walked silently one next to the other out of camp and down the hill, Emily with a bucket in her hand and Charles with a stick on his shoulders and two buckets at its ends, he couldn’t not notice the girl’s smile, her light pace, and her childish way to make the bucket swing in her hand. She seemed younger that her actual age and definitely too happy for the situation she was in: if what she had said was true, and she had just lost everything, how could she smile in that way?

“Why are you smiling?” he asked intrigued. “It’s a beautiful day” she stated pointing at the sky, “I have new clothes” she added looking at herself, “and I’m going to take some water at the river. I feel like in a movie.” Then, she turned to look at him right in the eye.

“You should smile more often, you know. It will make you feel better, and I guess you have a great smile” she said.

Charles frowned. There was definitely something wrong with her.

“Why would you say that?”

“I don’t know, you look like someone with a good smile.”

Charles shook his head and the girl giggled.

Then, silence fell and for a moment Charles hoped they would have continued their little trip quietly, but he soon found out she wasn’t a quiet one.

“Why are you with them?” she asked.

“You mean Dutch?”

“Yeah, you seem… I mean, you look like a good man, you all do actually, and I still can’t believe you are criminals. No offense.”

“None taken.”

“I know we still don’t know each other, but you haven’t done anything illegal until now. You don’t look… you don’t look like criminals.” “How do criminals look like?”

She took a little before answering, like she had to think about it.

“M-mean and…dangerous.”

Charles smiled and shook his head again. She didn’t know what she was talking about, she didn’t know them, she had no idea of what they had done.

“Aah… see? I knew you had a good smile” she exclaimed moving in front of him and pointing her finger at his face, walking backwards. 

“How old are you?” she asked returning to her place.

“Twenty six.” “And you said you left your father’s house when you were thirteen. This means you’ve been on your own for…”

Charles looked at her as she counted the years on her fingers.

“Exactly thirteen years. What a coincidence. What have you being doing all this time?”

“Surviving.”

“I mean you were just a kid. How did you eat? Where did you sleep?”

“I learned fast how to hunt and built me a tent.”

“And no-one ever asked you what you were doing around all alone?”

“No-one cared.”

Silence fell again. Charles looked at her and this time he saw she had a troubled expression. For some minutes, none of them said anything, and he thought that maybe that was the end of the conversation.

“Thank you for that deer this morning. How did you kill it, by the way?”

He sighed as he understood that she would have never stopped talking. 

“Bow and arrows.”

“Really? Gosh, you’re truly a real Native. Serious and quiet, great hunter, I bet you’re very good with horses too.”

“If you say so.”

Emily giggled again.

“What about Arthur, what is he good at?” she asked then.

Charles studied carefully her profile. She liked him, he could perfectly tell. So what was he going to say? That Arthur was a good outlaw? That he was good at threatening, killing and stealing? Because that was the truth, even though he knew Arthur was a better man than he seemed.

“He’s a good hunter, too.”

That was a lie, Arthur was a decent hunter.

“And a good rider.”

That was the truth.

“And he is a hard worker.”

“Mary-Beth told me he has a journal where he makes some drawings. Do you think he’s a good drawer?”

“Probably.” It seemed that she had run out of questions because she didn’t ask anything else until they reached the river. As Charles took away his boots and folded his trousers to dip into the water, she looked around with that surprised smile on her face like she had never seen a stream, and she probably never did, and just from time to time she would whisper an amazed “wow”. 

She passed him the buckets, one by one, which he filled and gave back to her. They finished soon, he wore his boots again and they left.

“How much time do you think we’re going to spend here?” 

She had started again with the questions, but Charles didn’t want to hurt her feelings telling her to shut up, so he just collected all his patience and answered.

“I don’t know, the time they’ll need to find some money.”

“I like this place, it has a beautiful view. My dad would have loved it, but my mom not so much. She is a city lover and my dad… he decided to live in Saint Denis just for her. His dream was a hut lost in the middle of nowhere and he always tells me that, when he first suggested her to leave the city to find a place like that, she felt so bad that she fainted. She says she owns her white hair to that day.”

Emily let out a laugh so pure, that Charles couldn’t help but smile in turn. Then, her expression changed and just like the day before, her eyes lost the light. She had turned sad again and suddenly Charles felt the need to say something, but he had no idea of what to say. He wasn’t Hosea, he wasn’t good with words. 

When they came back with the water, Tilly immediately noticed something had changed. Emily wasn’t the same, she had an odd look, dark and cloudy. She thanked Charles for his help and then brought one of the buckets to the basin to fill it. Miss Grimshaw came closer with a pile of clothes and told the new girl to wash them. She meekly nodded, taking them from her arms and then turned to look at Tilly.

“How do you wash clothes?” she asked.

Yes, there was definitely something wrong, Tilly could understand it through her voice, and she was oddly worried. She barely knew that girl, she hadn’t given a damn about her until that moment, but now she was suddenly worried. Had Charles done something to her? No, Tilly knew Charles. He was a good man, he wouldn’t do something like that. So what?

“Here, gimme these” she said and took the clothes from her arms.

She put them beside the basin and one by one she showed her how she had to do it. Then, she gave way to her and watched her as she did the work.

“Good, you can do it on your own” she said and did as to stand up, but then she looked at her face and changed her mind.

“What happened at the river? Why you look so sad?” she asked.

“Oh, no, nothing happened. I just… I was thinking about my parents and…”

She shook her head and then gave her a big sad smile.

“I’m fine, thank you for asking” she said as she started to rub the clothes.

...

That time there was no Hosea that could make her feel better and she had to fight with the unhappy thoughts on her own. Tilly had been very kind to her, showing her what to do and asking her what was wrong before she left. 

Washing clothes didn’t help, it reminded her of her home, even though back then she used a washing machine. Probably telling Tilly about the washing machine would have been fun, look at her face as she explained how they had invented something that cleaned the clothes on its own, but she didn’t feel in the mood for conversation, not anymore.

The day passed fast. Help Miss Grimshaw was an adventure: that woman was never happy about anything, if they didn’t do it, she got angry, if they did it but not the way she wanted, she got angry, if they did it all over again, following scrupulously her indications, they were losing too much time and she got angry. 

Emily didn’t complain and with a “yes, Miss Grimshaw” or a “ okay, Miss Grimshaw” did everything she wanted under her careful eyes. She wasn’t lying when she had said she would have punished her for what she had done, the hard work was the proof of it, and accept the punishment without saying a word was the best thing to do.

When the sunset arrived and she finally let her free, Emily reached the campfire and sat on the log to rest her legs. 

“Hi guys” she said to Javier and Micah.

The former had a guitar on his lap and he was fixing it’s cords or something like that, the latter was just seated there looking at the people who from time to time walked in front of him.

“Well, look at you, with your fine new clothes. It seems your getting used to live in 1899” said Micah, but by the tone he was using Emily understood he didn’t really believe she came from the future, it was just a way to mock her.

She didn’t want to be the victim of that prick again and she wanted to answer him something, maybe use a good comeback, a smart one, that could shut his mouth forever. But Emily was no such girl, she didn’t have the wit for comebacks and insults, so she opted for something in her range: ignore him.

During the day she had recovered a little of her usual good humor, and she felt again in the mood for talking and asking questions, and she didn’t waste any time.

“Can you play?” she asked to Javier nodding towards his guitar.

“Ah-ah.”

“Who thought you?”

“No-one. I learned on my own.”

“Cool. Can you also sing?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Well then, I can’t wait to hear something. Do you sing in English or Spanish?”

“Do you ever stop talking?”

Emily looked at Micah as he said those words, feeling like someone had punched her in the stomach. 

“After two days you’re still an asshole” she said to his face, but she could feel her words were insecure and her lips where trembling. She was hurt.

“You expected me to change?”

Emily quickly looked away. Why he had to be like that? Why she was going along with him?

“I’ll take something to eat” she said and stood up.

“Why don’t you bring me something too?” asked Micah.

“Why should I?” she complained crossing her arms on her chest.

She felt insulted and mistreated by that man and she summoned all her strength not to run away and hide in a corner. That little good humor she had recovered got lost again and that day was about to become one of those she just wanted to forget. 

“Oh, I didn’t know you were such a touchy type” he sneered.

“I’m not touchy, I just don’t understand why you have to treat me like garbage. What have I done to you?”

“Hey, calm down girl. I was just observing that you are quite a chatterbox. I enjoy the silence.”

“Well you could say it in a kinder way.”

“Okay then, I’ll remember that. Now, would you bring me something to eat, please?” 

Emily fixed her eyes in his. Was he playing with her? Probably. Was she happy to be treated like an idiot? Absolutely not. But at the same time she wanted to be better than him, she wanted to show him that politeness and goodness are the right means to reach a purpose, and maybe in the end she could have changed his way of doing things.

She reached the pot, filled two plates, took two spoons and came back.

“See, with kindness you can obtain everything” she said as she handed the plate to Micah.

At first he frowned at her, like he didn’t believe she had actually done it, but eventually he took the plate and smiled, a true smile, not one of his usual smirks, or at least that’s what Emily wanted to believe.

“Do you want some too, Javier?” she asked to the other man.

“No, thank you” he said as he kept moving his eyes from her to Micah just like he had seen a ghost. “I prefer to eat later” he added.

Emily shrugged and reached the log to sit again and eat.

“So, how is life in the future?” asked Micah leaning forward on his chair. “I mean, is it much different than now?”

He seemed to have lost all that mocking tone he had used with her before and Emily thought it was due to her act of kindness, but she didn’t know Micah and his way to play with those he considered weak. 

“Quite a lot” she said with a piece of potato in her mouth.

“Here is everything so… calm and slow. It takes you a lot to do everything. I’ve just spent two hours washing a bunch of clothes. In my time I need thirty minutes.”

She took another bite before carrying on. Pearson had maintained his promise, the stew was really better that night.

“We live faster, always running, always with something to do, a place to go, someone to meet.”

“It sounds awful” said Javier.

“Actually, it’s not. We’re used to it. And do a lot of things makes you believe you’re doing something with your life, that you’re not wasting time.”

“That is something really wise to say, my dear” said Hosea approaching them and sitting on the log right next to Emily. 

“Is it?” she asked as a smile widened on her lips.

“Trust me, you’re speaking with the wisest man in camp” he joked.

“I’ve missed your wisdom today. I’ve thought about my parents again.”

Hosea nodded and moved on the log to look better at her.

“There is something I can do?” he asked.

She shook her head.

“No, no-one can do anything.” “Think… think about the fact that they are fine. They are home, healthy…”

“They’d be super worried about me right now.”

“But they are fine. That’s what matters.”

Emily nodded and gave him a tiny smile, but she was already feeling better. Following her instinct she leaned forward and put an arm around his neck, holding him tight until she felt one of his shy hands stroking her back. 

“So, you’re telling me that you believe her, old man?” asked Micah and Emily immediately let Hosea go.

She fixed her eyes in his and it gave her the impression he was deeply thinking about his answer.

“Yes, yes I do” he said in the end. 

...

Micah scoffed and shook his head: if that was Hosea’s wisdom it wasn’t much. Then, he took out his gun to polish it, but he had no time to take a rug that he heard a laud gasp and looking up he saw the girl had stood up.

“No, please put that away” she whimpered with her eyes fixed on the pistol.

Micah smirked watching carefully at that pretty face and wondering if she was really such an idiot. She had to be, she had brought him the stew.

“Hey, don’t freak out, girl. I’m just cleaning it” he said.

“No, no put that away. I don’t like it.”

She moved as to go away, but Hosea stopped her.

“Miss Emily, sit, sit down again, please” he said with a soothing voice.

She didn’t move her eyes from Micah’s gun which he started polishing without giving a damn about her stupid fears.

“You afraid of guns?” asked Javier.

The more he saw the more he couldn’t believe how strange that girl was. First, she had brought some stew to Micah, just because he had pretended to speak politely. Second, she talked about her “previous life” and her parents like she really believed in what she was saying, and she had also convinced Hosea about her follies. And finally, she was panicking because Micah took out his gun to clean it, like she didn’t know they were criminals, which meant they did far worse things with guns than polishing them.

“Listen, you know what we are” said Hosea as she sat again.

“Yes.”

“You know what we do.”

“I-I imagine.”

“There is no need for you to be scared of us.”

“I’m not scared of you, I don’t like firearms. They are dangerous. Too dangerous.”

“As you can see we all have one. Some of us two. If you freak out every time we polish one, you’ll run away by the end of the week.”

“Maybe she can try to hold one” suggested Javier. He had learned that facing his own fears helped to overcome them.

“Do you feel like doing it?” asked Hosea.

She looked at them with her big eyes which seemed even bigger under the light of the fire.

“I-I don’t know” she answered in the end.

“Here, look” said Hosea.

He wanted to help her. If she was afraid of guns she was vulnerable, especially in a place where everybody was used to point one to your face for no real reason. He took out his pistol and showed her.

“It’s unloaded, so there’s nothing to worry about” he reassured her.

She kept staring at it, but did nothing, so he reached out a hand and took her plate, pushing the gun in her hands instead. 

“Oh… it’s heavy” she whispered.

Then, with a little trembling hand she brushed a finger on the engraved steel and hinted a smile.

“Did you choose the engravings?” she asked.

“Ah-ah” he affirmed.

“W-well, i-it’s nice. Can you take it back?” she asked and handed it over like she was holding a hand grenade. 

Hosea chuckled and gave her the plate back.

“Maybe one day you’ll learn how to use one” he said.

“Never.”