#Im german He can speak german too.

[skydreamplayzz]

Because I had nothing better to Do. I drew simple before somthing happend to his eye. (not sure wich age i wanted it to happend to him but imma say 5-6 and he's 11-14 years) I still Need an idea what even happend- idk. I Need ideas -

[skitskatdacat63]

Every time I read Fernando cursing in fic, I can only think about this clip and then my brain short-circuits

[rosefulmadness]

bro why are languages so hard like come on now I just wanna be able to communicate

with friends? with family? with my roots? all of them THAT'S A LOT OF LANGUAGES WITH THEIR OWN ALPHABETS there's never enough time

[prettybean]

WHAT THEY WOULD SAY DURING SEX (COD +18)

* I have a soft spot for Keegan, im sorry

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE

Ghost

“I know it's big”

“arch your back, just like that”

“Did you want this? Say it"

“Stick out your tongue or I won't give you anything”

“Such a whore, now you don't act like a brat in front of everyone anymore, huh?”

“Are you listening? open your fucking legs"

“Good girl, let everyone hear how much you love having my cock inside”

“An angel who wants to be fucked by me, how pathetic”

Soap

“Where’s my innocent girl?”

“Show me how much you want it”

“Fuck, you're so cute when you struggle to stay still”

"Use your words"

“Get on your fucking knees”

“You’re sucking it so good, baby, can you take it down your throat?"

“Do you want me to cum here? You want it? Do you want me to fill that pretty mouth?”

“You're all dirty, come here”

Price

“Look at you, always trying to flirt with the higher ranking ones”

“Lie down on my desk”

“You're so wet, did you need a spanking to make you behave?”

“Cum. Now."

“You're still so needy, even though I just fucked you”

“Look how much you came, you wet my uniform”

“Call me sir or I will have to punish you again”

“I fuck you harder, so you will show me some respect”

Gaz

“You belong to me, am I clear?”

“You acted like a brat, now you pay the consequences”

“You’re so pretty you are when you moan for me”

"I love you so much"

“You can give me another one, pretty girl”

“Be good for me, cum on my cock”

“Do you like it, sugar?”

“Don't lie, your wet pussy is begging for mercy”

Alejandro

“I knew you would be good while I was at work”

“Did you touch yourself?”

“You're so cute, keep begging me”

“This pussy is so good, mi amor”

“That’s it, legs around my face, just like that”

“Fuck, I had no idea you were so sensitive”

“Do you like my tongue?”

“Don't look at me like that or I won't stop eating your pussy”

Graves

“Keep riding me, don't you dare stop”

“Do you feel it? Do you feel how good my cock fills you?”

“You like being on top of me, don’t you?”

“I just said a word and you're already bouncing on my cock”

"What did you say? I can't understand with all those moans"

“Good, just like that”

“I told you not to tease me in front of Shadows”

“I know you were just being a brat because you want to get fucked.”

König

"Do not run away"

“God, you're so small I could break you”

"It's big? huh?”

“You can't even take my cock properly, look at you”

“Don't cry, I only put on the tip”

“You're so tight, I might go crazy”

“Stop moving, you have to take it all”

“I don't give a fuck if it doesn't fit, take my cock like a good whore”

* He tends to switch to speaking only in German when he loses control

Keegan

“My eyes are up here”

“You do what I say, if I want you to cum, you cum, whore”

“I noticed how you looked at those recruits, you wanted their dicks too, huh?“

“What's the matter, are you shy now?”

“Do you like being fucked like a whore? This is what you deserve."

"You do not talk anymore? You won't get anything if you don't tell me what you want."

“This is my girl, always greedy for my cum”

"You want to come? Then start counting”

—

pt 2

[r1pp4r]

• heres some more COD smutty smut >:))) so here are some nsfw könig headcannons!! im gonna do my man simon here soon but könig was taking up my entire SOUL last night so i wrote these :))

——————————————————————————————

warnings: NSFW!! MDNI P L E A S E <333 theres so much like its so much

- [ ] • this man is absolutely obsessed with a size kink. and i mean OBSESSED. he loves that you’re so small he can pick you up, and maneuver you however he wants. whenever he’s hitting it from the back esp in the shower, he’ll just pick you up and hold you while he slides you open on his cock 🫣

- [ ] • he loves any type of leather toy. he is a leather man all the way, and he also definitely has harnesses for you. he’d probably have you wear a leather collar at LEAST a few times 🖤

- [ ] • okay!! so yes könig is an absolute monster in bed but he’s also very very aware. he knows when it’s getting to be painful but also.. he’s just oblivious to how BIG he is. he doesn’t realize that every time he’s slamming into your little cunt that he’s literally splitting you in half almost

- [ ] • primal play. he absolutely LOOOOVES to chase you around the house while you hide and he drags you out from underneath something or literally ensnares you, it’s pretty hot ngl

- [ ] • honestly i think he’s vocal :) grunts, groans, moans, pants you name it. he’s very animalistic? def growling and like… almost marking tendencies?

- [ ] • will call you so many pet names and i mean SO many, especially in german. he’ll praise you in german while absolutely railing you.

- [ ] • idk i don’t feel like he’d be big into impact play? like p*ssy slapping n stuff yeah, ass here too but like HITTING you in the face? idk maybe a light slap here and there 🧍‍♂️ but nothing gruesome (besides ur ass that has been bloodied before)

- [ ] • he’s willing to try most stuff once, twice depending on the situation.

- [ ] • he is an edger to the fucking MAX. simon does edge you but thats bc he likes you to cum hard. KÖNIG?? NAHHHH, this man wants you so brain dumb that you’re basically drooling for him. he loves to overstimulate your body with giving you everything, then taking away his fingers or shaft at the last minute so you clench on nothing..

- [ ] • sometimes he’s gentle. but those aren’t necessarily nights he’s being nice. he’ll just slowly fuck into you from the side, basically just using you. you’d be cockwarming him 100%, and he’d just feel you explode and then keep going :D

- [ ] • also!! sweet stuff <333 aftercare is so, so so important to him. since he basically makes you brain dead for a little while, he loves to carry you around the house, gets water, snacks, comfort plushes n such. especially comfort clothes. he even got chair for the shower so after you all are done you dont have to stand :) he’ll def put you in one of his sweaters, shirts, etc. and then pull you against his chest and cuddle you until you fall asleep or he’s ready for the next round 🧍‍♂️

- [ ] • speaking of.. yeah this man is absolutely animalistic. he’s growling, biting, scratching, pulling, yelling. anything you can think of primal and he’ll do. it’s actually really really hot

- [ ] • … he’s an anal man sometimes. and has 100% gotten pegged but will never speak of it.

- [ ] • he has a breeding kink like a motherfucker. that man will absolutely fill you until you genuinely have a bulge. he loooves watching his cum literally ooze out of your literal swollen cunt and he always talks abt how hes gonna fill you with his kids and mark you so no other man wants you 🧍‍♂️

ANYWAY THATS ALL!!! simon comin tn :)

[archivedzeke]

fucking könig so hard he cant even talk english (i have big brain rot rn im sorry)

that’s hot. nothing’s better than fucking this killing machine dumb is too sexy to fathom.

you’d have him in a mating press, his muscular legs dangling in the air as you drive your thick cock in and out of his sopping hole—the sweat from working him over dripping from your chin

he was at least three orgasms in now and so we’re you, his insides have been pumped full of your cum and he was on the brink of tapping out himself—he’d like to think he had pretty good stamina, but when you’re drilling into him like he’s some two dollar whore, that thought is rendered untrue.

every bit of resolve he was clinging onto breaking instantly. you’re watching it all, you watch in utter fulfillment as his cock twitches once more and a whimper leaves his throat—eyes rolling into the back of his skull as his cum paints his messy abdomen once more and he begins to babble.

“look at that baby. you’re all dumbed out aren’t you king?” — he lets out the most delicious whimper, before answering in a warbled tone. “i-ich werde verrückt!” (i’m going crazy)

“please! please! züchte mich ♡!”, (breed me) his hole clenches around you, pulsing rhythmically around your heavy dick. he wanted your babies. “fuck! you look so pretty love. that’s it! talk to me like a good boy.”

his voice is reduced higher in pitch, and every word he speaks is covered in his heavy german accent.

“füll mich bitte voll! ich will meh!!” (fill me up please! i want more!)

now that really turns you on. when he starts speaking his native tongue, that’s when you know his brain has become nothing but love mush. konig throws out random pleases in german, want and just heavy in his eyes.

“want me to cum in you again pretty boy? fill your sloppy pussy with my kids hm?”

he nods his head and spews out what he can. “y-yess! please please! k-küss mich!”, he manages to get out while drool leaks down his chin. and you comply, laughing into the kiss as he tries his hardest to reciprocate the feeling. (kiss me)

[mockerycrow]

hii! i love the way you describe the 141 so far, and i would love to see how you would write an konig, ghost, soap, price and alejandro reaction and headcanons with a s/o who has an accent?

i taught myself english from a young age so i never really had someone to practice with, so my accent is very strong (im from south america, which also helps lol) and i would like to see how the cod boys can react to this in your style <33

Reader With An Accent - MWII

GIF BY: @collinnmckinley - masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for your patience and thank you for liking my writing!! please let me know if i executed this right!! i am american and i don’t want to misrepresent. also this is lowkey coded for people w/ accents from non-english speaking countries, so sorry everyone who is from a english speaking country and has an accent oops — i also kinda took your “i taught myself english from a young age” for alejandro’s chunk. hope that’s ok!

König

König wouldn’t react to your accent very much, unless it’s a very thick accent because then he would have trouble understanding you.

If your accent is thick, he probably asks you repeat yourself a couple of times; English isn’t his first language either, so I can imagine maybe a couple of times you both sit there in silence with each other because neither of you guys can understand each other. He has a semi-thick accent, too.

Sometimes, he does understand you but he just wants to hear you continue to talk.

Maybe König and you practice English together, while teaching each other your native languages on accident. You guys didn’t mean to, but you end up trying to explain what a word is in your different languages and by the end of it, you begin to understand full sentences in german; the same for him with your language.

He considers this a bonding experience :)

Ghost

Like König, he probably wouldn’t react to your accent too much unless it was incredibly thick. Ghost has met all different types of people and his native language is English, so he has a better understanding of what you’re trying to say, but he pokes fun at you like he pokes fun at Soap.

On the topic of Soap, you two together is his worst nightmare.

“Speak English.” Is his favorite phrase when you are speaking English, but your accent is just overpowering literally everything.

You like to throw his words back into his face when he says some sort of British slang—you get a surprisingly loud chuckle out of him when you pick up some of his slang. He thinks it’s funny whenever anyone who isn’t British begins to talk like him.

If Ghost isn’t already fluent in your language, he pretty much becomes damn near fluent by the time you’ve known him for a good couple of months. He picks this stuff up easily.

Soap

Oh, this would be actual hell on Earth. Not for you two, but for the others.

Soap doesn’t comment on your accent initially, but you two begin to share a brain cell and a half (on accident) when Ghost’s eyes show visible frustration.

“He can barely understand me, the two of’us will be a real party trick!”

You and Soap gang up on everyone else if your accent is thick. He understands the frustration of people not understanding you.

Sometimes it takes Soap a moment to process what you’re saying, but he only asks you to repeat yourself a couple of times. (He has a good method of deciphering words, even if he cannot understand through an accent).

Soap likes to teach you his Scot phrases and you teach him your own in return.

Price

He gives you an eyebrow raise as a reaction, but that’s about it. Price has worked with so many people all over the world, he doesn’t really care to comment on your accent.

Price has gotten pretty good at understanding thick accents through the years, so he probably only asks you to slow your speaking when giving him a verbal report about something.

Price 100% is the type to accidentally pronounce something wrong but say it with full confidence and you always correct him, leaving him dumbfounded.

“My lips just don’t move that way, love.”

It’s likely he’s fluent in your language so he doesn’t mind if you talk to him in it; just give him a few seconds to translate in his head, okay?

Alejandro

If you meet outside of a total progressional setting, he probably has the most reaction to your accent out of anyone.

Alejandro’s language is a very big part of him so he assumes it’s the same for anyone else.

Alejandro doesn’t have an incredibly thick accent, but he knows people who do and he’s known them for years, so it’s easier for him to understand than a lot of other people.

If you taught yourself English and you end up pronouncing something wrong, Alejandro casually corrects you to help you out. He doesn’t make a big deal out of it either, he knows sometimes people get embarrassed from it. His first language isn’t English either, so he understands the struggle.

He DOES start laughing if you try to pronounce something that you so clearly cannot, even after being corrected.

[thehandsresisthim]

“venus im pelz (venus in furs)”

contains: sub!könig/dom!fem!reader, master/servant (altho it’s all pretend), wayyy too many references to venus in furs, könig fucks a pillow lol, dry humping, kinda pet-play-ish(?)

word count: ~1.400

You yawn and place your left hand back on your thigh. Your legs are currently draped over the armrest of the big chair you’re sitting on as you look down on the monarch sitting in front of you.

“So? How do you like it?” you ask him in a straightforward tone as you move your other hand to the fur of the coat he gifted you.

His eyes are immediately trained on your hand - watching your ringed (courtesy of his gifts) fingers as if he was a moth circling a flame. You pet the elegant fur over and over again, occasionally digging your fingers in.

You wouldn’t have been surprised if he started drooling. Sadly, neither saliva nor speech leaves his mouth.

“Answer me, Sir.” you demand now, your face turning to marble.

“I… I like it.”

His lips part and he looks pained. His light blue eyes glance up at you, and then down again.

“I see. So I fulfil your vision of a domineering Venus?” you speak and he feels like you’re pulling out a rug beneath him.

“I-“ he begins and feels like a boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

You look down at him, your gaze turning to stone. Luckily for him, before you can mock him any further, a loud noise originating from the fireplace interrupts you.

The wood - which he so neatly arranged in the fireplace just two hours ago - has crumbled. Slowly, the flames stop licking the last bits of wood away, and it dies.

You both watch.

“Your Majesty. Fix this. I am already cold.” you say, as if you were commanding a bothersome dog.

He almost falls over, scrambling to roughly grab multiple planks of wood at the same time.

Under your cold eyes, he shrinks as he places the new firewood. Although the less coherent stability of the arrangement doesn’t escape your mind, you let it slide.

His trembling hands grab the box of matches and he attempts to light one.

He fails. Miserably.

Under your cold eyes, he withers further. “S-sorry…”

You sigh. “Are you quite sure that you will let your Goddess degrade herself by pursuing such a bothersome task?”

König looks as if he wants to cry. “No! No, never!”

He bites his lip and tries again. He lets out a cry of relief as it finally works. With a shivering hand, he lights the wood on fire.

His eyes flicker between the flames licking the wood and you, the need for approval visible on his face.

You indulge him again. “You did a good job, my servant. You may sit before me and touch the fur on my coat.”

He doesn’t even bother to get up properly and just crawls towards you on all fours. You laugh.

“You are quite an amusing pet.” you say, and he wonders what might be colder - the look in your eyes, or your tone? He shivers and ends up kneeling right before you.

His hands tremble as he hesitates to touch your luxurious fur coat. You giggle as his big hands stay just a few centimetres away from the soft fur of the clothing.

“I already gave you permission. Go on, you may touch my coat.”

He awkwardly pets the fur for just a moment, then digs his fingers in. Amidst him closing his eyes as he rakes his fingers through the fur, he makes a fatal mistake.

His right thumb, accidentally, brushes against the skin of your décolleté.

Immediately, you shove him away - his eyes open wide in shock as he falls back, catching himself on his hands.

“H-hey-“ he starts to protest, but one look from you is enough to put him back in line.

“Sorry, Goddess.” he mumbles and looks at your feet.

You just stay quiet, as you know exactly what he should be saying to you next.

“How… how can I make up for my mistake, Herrin?” he asks.

At his use of the German term for ‘mistress’, you smirk. Whenever he starts using some words in his native language, you know that he has been pushed further into subspace. It’s a sign that he’s letting go, that he trusts you.

Although it’s not exactly in character for “Venus in Furs”, you lean forward and affectionately run your fingers through his hair. He looks up at you and smiles.

As he glances at your eyes, he understands what you’re doing - silently checking in if he’s still up for the play.

“I’m good,” he says quietly, “I’ll tell you if anything gets uncomfortable, I promise.”

Your affectionate smile turns cold again as you resume your “role” as Venus. You harshly tug on his hair, reminding him of what he should be saying now.

“I’ll do anything to make up for my mistake…” he blushes as he speaks.

“Remove your clothes.” you instruct.

He nods and starts tugging on his pants.

***

“H…herrin…” he begins, as he humps against the pillows. “Touch… me… bitte…”

“The answer is still ‘no’, König, no matter how you plead. Your leaky cock would just dirty the pristine furs that I wear.”

He whimpers and bites his lip. “O…okay….”

You sigh in mock indignation. “If only you could control that thing. Look, it’s leaking like a faucet. You know, like this, it’s almost cute.”

König groans when you call his dick “cute” of all things. He wants to protest, but decides against it. Pissing you off by being bratty right now is a really bad idea.

“You agree that it’s cute, right? Adorable, even?” you taunt, lips curling into a smile. “Tell me, Your Majesty. Tell me how cute your dick is.”

“Ich… Ich… Herrin…” he stutters, now seemingly having lost all English speaking capabilities.

“Your Majesty?”

“My… c-cock is…” he says quickly, trying to get it over with, “süß…”

You just stare at him with cold eyes.

“Sor-”, he interrupts himself with a moan as his swollen cock accidentally brushes against the zipper on the pillow, “sorry…”

“My cock is… cute.” he says the word like it causes him pain.

“That’s right!” you say enthusiastically. “It’s adorable!”

He winces, but nods awkwardly, pretending to agree. It’s so pathetic and sweet that you decide not to chastise him again.

“It’s so adorable that I want to see it cum.”

König sighs with relief, his eyes focusing on you. He looks like a devout worshipper - well, except for the nudity. And the way he’s humping the pillow.

“Hold still for a minute.” you instruct, and watch as his hips stutter and then stop. He whimpers.

You slowly get up and grab another pillow, then place it on top of the one that he’s already humping.

He shivers as the colder fabric touches his sensitive cock. It’s not yet soiled by his warm, sticky cum, and feels awkward.

You place one of your hands on the pillow. “This should be better. Fuck the pillows. It’s all your leaky dick deserves. You are allowed to cum.”

König nods, hums, and starts… fucking the pillows. It feels very weird. Sure, the fabric is nice, and the friction helps get him near the edge, but… it doesn’t compare to your cunt.

Still, after just a few seconds, he starts moaning and saying your title. It’s quiet at first, and then picks up traction.

“Ahh- Mistress, Herrin… Bitte…”

However, the pillows are nowhere as tight, as warm, and most importantly - it’s not you. You’re not touching him, just holding the pillows down so that he doesn’t knock them over by his rapid humping.

He can barely catch a whiff of your scent, and it’s hell.

“Herrin, bitte… lass mich nicht… alleine…” he rambles. The plea for you to not leave him alone sounds pathetic, so unlike the strong soldier that he is, too.

“F-fass mich an, berühre mich, Herrin, bitte, bitte!” König continues, frantically humping the pillow sandwich, constantly looking into your eyes.

The begging for you to at least touch him is so adorable that you fold and gently place your hand on his neck. Your other hand still holds the pillow in place.

“Thank you, Herrin, oh, Herrin, thank you! Danke!”

That does him in, and unceremoniously, he cums onto the pillows.

You chuckle at the way his body trembles. “I hope you’re prepared to continue, König.”

Thank you for reading ❤️

For more fics, check out my masterlist :)

[gremlingottoosilly]

in if you need to be mean, would the reader ever try to escape? and if she did, how would konig react? thinking about like, she planned for a few months how would she escape him, and she feels very conflicted bc she loves him, but she wants freedom and thats the only thing konig would never give her. so when hes away she takes the car and just goes. i dont know where, but shes so desperate te be free again to do whatever she likes without him hovering and always by her side trying to control what she does! would he feel sad? would he be devastated? would he go after her? i know that theres like a 1% chance of it happening but im so curious about how he would react and how it would change their relationship.

anyway, love your fanfics gremlin you're a genius!!! 🫶

Konig made everything in his power to prevent her from escaping without locking her up and breaking her legs, but it doesn't mean he won't do it.

He refuses to let her study German because he moved her to this foreign country without her knowing the language, and he specifically chose a distant tiny town in the middle of the Austrian woods, where not a lot of people know English and therefore, it would be hard for her to communicate. She doesn't have his car keys or a driver's license, he didn't leave her a lot of cash, so she forced to use his cards with updates of withdrawal and spending sent to his account, and she also just has a dependant visa that wouldn't allow her to do independent anyway. Her only way would be speaking to the police and hoping that they would start the investigation. It would be really hard because, well, Austria doesn't really care about immigrant's problems unless it's an international scandal, and Konig would know anyway - because he has cameras in the house, which he doesn't even hide, and if the investigation would die down, or his girl wouldn't go to the police, he wouldn't really break the contract and run to her immediately. He has quite a few friends around, especially if Krueger or Klaus are around and not on deployment with him, so he could ask them to go and visit his...wife. She is scared and a bit hysterical because of the foreign country, so she can tell weird things about kidnapping and escaping, they shouldn't listen to her! Konig won't be so nice when he returns. He really wanted to play this fantasy of having cute little housewife, nice house and a girl that is absolutely in love with him. He knows that you like him, at least, that you didn't want to escape, you're just silly! He infantilised you before, mostly because of the age difference, but it would be even harsher now. You are not allowed to leave the house, he often simply locks you in the bedroom so you won't have anything to do besides waiting for him to return with groceries and fuck you into the mattress. He didn't want to break you leg, but if you keep resisting, he might kinda push you a bit further. He would assign you a no-nonsense older caretaker so you would have company and help while your leg is broken! She also thinks that you have some sort of weird mental illness that made you paranoid and afraid of your husband, so you can't even get help from her. You can forget about going out while he is on deployment either. And he is very reluctant to let you out, even with him, the first few months after your attempted escape. The world is too dangerous for you anyway,

[ivestas]

Could I request a könig x reader in which she’s one of the best soldiers/snipers in the world, covered in tattoos, smokes and is a ‘I joined the military out of spite and somehow all that anger turned me into this’, and könig is just smitten with her?

its time you learn to accept yourself

Summary: Through König, you learn love and self-acceptance. 

Tags: sniper!fem!reader x konig, strangers to friends to lovers, headcanon format, reader implied not to speak german, reader implied to be mentally ill, unedited

Word count: 1.7k

Note: im starting to really like this genre of ship-dynamic LMAO

When you joined KorTac, it was clear you didn’t give much of a shit about anyone there. 

You kept to yourself, spoke in monosyllables, and had much more interest in smoking the cigarettes you kept sneaking into the base than talking to any of them. 

He’d heard operators call you several things—none of them flattering to your image—however, one thing stood out clearly to him:

You were a good shot. They all agreed to that. To them, though your personality was shit, you had the eye of a hawk and the hands of a trained and experienced veteran who knew the sniper like the back of their hand. 

He couldn’t help but admire you, regardless of the fact you’ve never acknowledged his presence or even looked at him. 

He also couldn’t help but admire how calm you were, how you were just... yourself. Sleeves always rolled up with your tattoos in full display, a cigarette always nursed between your lips, the fact you never watered down your personality; he wanted that confidence—no, that sureness your character carried. 

König knew you liked to lurk near the shooting range—since you’d joined, he avoided disturbing you and had often gone to the other side of the range to practice his shots. 

However, in a fit of uncharacteristic confidence, he decided to approach you. 

He was prepared for your scathing words, or the silent look of disgust you often wore around the other men.

But, when he approached, you regarded him neutrally. 

“Hey, you’re...” 

“König.”

“Yeah, König, you’re König.” You echoed the accent of the word, looking proud. “I pronounced that well, right? König.” You repeated his name as though it were a flavorful candy.

He was rendered mute; German sounded so nice on your tongue. 

“König?” 

“A-ah, scheiße, I was lost in thought for a second,” he laughed awkwardly. “You said it well, yes.” 

“‘kay, good. Anyway, what’d you want?’

It was a blunt but reasonable question, but with your eyes trained on him, it was suddenly hard to speak or think. 

Bashfully, he spoke. “May I shoot with you?” 

“Uh, of course? This isn’t my shooting range, man. Have fun.” 

“No, with you.” 

“With me?” You echoed, dumbfounded. “How’d that work?” 

“We’ll make it a friendly competition—if you’d like, of course—whoever gets the most bulls-eyes wins.”

You smiled. It was brighter than the sun. “Sure! Sounds like fun—you go first, then.” 

König does. It was an easy shot, anyone could hit it, but he could feel your eyes watching him. 

Trying to steady his hands, he set his sniper on top of the heavy crates and tried to aim, trying to clear his mind.

It was difficult. Again, your eyes—he wondered if he was making any mistakes he didn’t even know of. He was sure he was doing everything right, but... was he? 

“Your hands are shaking, König. Try steadying them like this,” roughly, you took the hand that had been on the trigger and made the weight even. 

His cheeks erupted in warmth. Too close. 

He quickly takes a shot, and it was just about to hit the bullseye. 

“Time to show ya how the pros do it!” You sit right beside him, kneeling in front of the crates and setting your own sniper onto them. He noticed rough engravings on the snout of your gun, a rough shape of a butterfly and snake. 

Before he could ask about them, you shot. You had barely paused to even adjust. 

When he looked up, he couldn’t help the wave of admiration that hit him.

You hit the bullseye perfectly.

“Maybe one day you can be as good as me,” you teased, voice light. “But your ass needs practice. Can I help?” 

He couldn’t trust his voice so he merely nodded. Thank God he had a hood over his head because he was sure he resembled more tomato than a human. 

After that though, the two of you became closer—you saw each other more, interacted more, etc. 

You had taken a swift liking to him; he was eager to learn, polite, and soft-spoken, how could you not? 

König, though? He’s skipped the ‘friend’ part and went straight to crushing; honestly, he was flattered enough that you just acknowledged his presence, being one of the best snipers and all, but the fact you went out of your way to teach him—talk to him—it went all straight to the heart.

Even on missions, you’d talk to him. You’d often favor being quiet, whistling the odd tune or two before taking your shots, but now you’ve come to just take those small pauses to tease him incessantly. 

König was about to maul an enemy before a bullet shot through their head. 

His earphones sparked to life. 

“You should be more careful, I almost couldn’t save you there.” Your voice crackled through. 

He couldn’t help but huff, half amused, half worried. “Didn’t Aksel say for you to clear out the enemies on your end?” 

“Did already. They were like sitting ducks.”

You two are an actual powerhouse in missions; König with his physical prowess, easily overpowering anyone in his way, and you with your sniper, taking any enemies behind him down in an instant. 

You only grew closer to him and vice versa, and eventually, the daily conversations nearly became constant—attached to the hip, understanding each other to the extent that quick glances would equate to hundreds of lines of dialogue. 

It was during this that you realize you’ve grown... attached. 

It worries you—no, it scares you. 

You were, in your eyes, a poison that could do nothing but harm a soul like König’s; despite is outward brutality, you knew inside he was nothing but gentle—or maybe you were blind. Maybe you were in love and refused to see the dark that tainted his inner consciousness. 

Or, maybe, you liked that too about him. 

In any case, it was worrisome; it bit at your insides, at the quiet part of your mind, it lit everything to flame then ash. 

You weren’t the woman you were before the military; fuck, maybe that version of you never existed—you were always so fucked up, so full of incomprehensible anger that set every step you took on fire. 

That worry turned to anxiety, and it only increased when you realized that your stable, steady hands have become a shaking mess. 

It was during a pause between missions that you try to clear your head, to purge those feelings you thought and knew wouldn’t lead to any good. 

However König—oh, König—followed.

You told him not to, but he knew something was wrong, that you weren’t quite as steady as he’d known you to be; it was a weakness, a vulnerability that, right now, could harm you. 

Neither of you had the comfort of being weak, especially in a safe house that could be overridden with hostiles at any moment of the day. If he couldn’t help, he’d at least want to be able to protect you during this time.

So, he followed, through the murky corridors and under the cloak of night, finding you outside with a cigarette between your lips. 

You saw him and you were ready to snap at him, to drive him away, but he spoke so fucking softly. 

“Are you okay?”

You weren’t. He knew you weren’t, and you knew he knew that. 

So you sighed. Gestured for him to come, and he did, leaning against the concrete wall beside you. 

You were particularly loose-lipped, but at that moment, all inhibitions of restraint were gone. 

“It’s all a lie—when people join the military, it’s rarely for that strive of good.” You took a harsh suck of the cigarette. “You think any person with a good head on their shoulders and love for life would want to be in a fuckin’ military? Or a merc group? No amount of money makes this worth it, no... never.” 

König was silent. Listening. Thinking.

“More often than not, people just join to just—run. Die. Cut their losses and just engulf themselves in the worst of the worst because of their own flaws—hamartias. Know that word?”

König nodded.

You laughed airily. It was hardly a laugh, more like a throwaway noise. “I learnt it back in high school in English class—’fatal flaw of a hero’, or something. Flaws... good, bad, right, wrong, villainous, heroic, it’s a mouthful, isn’t it?”

König nodded again. 

“So many labels for those who, in hindsight, or just cogs to a greater machine. A twisted machination—isn’t that the true evil? The machinery?”

“You make it sound difficult,” König breathed. “When everything is so much simpler than that. Personal principles define those beliefs, right and wrong is as broad as it is small.” 

You hummed. “Never struck you for the philosophical type.”

“I’m not. Philosophy is redundant. The answer is always found within our hearts.” 

“Hmmm.” You took another puff of the cigarette. “The answer in my heart was anger. Always anger. Violence, insults, it always seemed most effective... I thought the military would set me straight, make me more controlled, but it did the opposite.” You stared at the ground, smoke spilling out your lips. “I’m worse now, a festering disease. I can feel myself burning out day by day, and, König? I want you to stay away from that—from me.” 

“I won’t.” 

“What?” 

“I refuse. I will stay by your side.” I can’t bear to leave you alone. 

“But... why?” Why, why, why? 

“Because you’re the most beautiful flame I’ve ever seen.” I love you. Accept that. “Don’t cut yourself short, liebe. You can always change and grow. Or remain stagnant. Either way, my eyes will always be on you.”

You, for the first time in your life, couldn’t trust your voice. 

But when you looked up at him, you hoped that the message was there. That he could see. 

And he did, and you couldn’t help the smile when you saw that the corners of his eyes crinkled. 

AO3

Masterlist

Requests are open

[mixes-archive]

OK SO I SAW UR POST ON KÖNIG and i was wondering if you could right headcannons on cuddling with him (you don't have to btw im just excited he's getting attention😌)

Cuddling with König HCs

I love cute requests like these <3 I am a sucker for fluff at heart

Pretty sure I mentioned this in my general headcanons, but this man loves cuddling!!

It's literally his favorite thing to do

Fuck hobbies, warmth is all König needs

In the beginning of your relationship, he was really shy about it too, constantly asking if he could hug you. Those hugs ended up getting longer and longer and it got to a point where he carried you to the couch to full on cuddle.

Still asks, but doesn't really wait for your answer lmao

"Hey can I hug you? Great thanks" "Wait I didn't say y-" "Ohhh is this a new blanket? Es is' so flauschig!"

If you live in Austria and it's any season other than summer, he wants cuddles and he wants them now.

Chances are you aren't used to the cold, so a good hug from this massive man can really warm you up!

Could cuddle with you for hours on end, literally would do it all day if you let him

His favorite position is sitting you on his lap and resting his head on your shoulder, maybe wrapping you both in a few blankets too

If you have fluffy clothes, he will BEG you to wear them when cuddling, man's is weak to fluff <3

"Schatz, kannst du bitte deinen flauschigen Pulli anziehen?" "Honey, it's in the wash...I'm sorry" *sad puppy noise*

LOVES reading you books from his childhood in german <3 (Just ask him to not pick Max and Moritz again, trust me)

Has read you to sleep while cuddling multiple times, and would do it again goddamnit

He's so calm that he often forgets to speak in english, best to just learn german if you want to cuddle lmao

Sometimes, he even slips into austrian so good luck understanding him if he mufflers into your shoulder!

Whether you have booba or not, he will cuddle into your chest at any given chance

PLEASE massage his shoulders omg

Absolutely melts into your touch

If you have a bed full of stuffies, that is your designated cuddling spot now and your SHARED collection of stuffed animals <3

[palmettoshitposts]

ideas from a foxes with less trauma au im too lazy to actually write. they are basically just friends who’ve been thrown in the same dorms and chaos ensues. here’s what you could expect to see if you entered the dorm:

andrew is always just on top of furniture he shouldn’t be. he especially loves sitting on the fridge and kicking away anyone who tries to open in.

allison and seth are engaged in a months long “who can sneak up and punch the other the hardest” competition. allison is currently winning. the bruise on seth’s back is so alarming he has to get it checked.

nicky regularly sits on aaron’s head to “cure his homophobia”.

neil and kevin competitive juggling (because that one post about that on here has me in a fucking crack chokehold, it such a fucking funny concept)

renee painting the scenes before her in a renaissance style. they are these glorious, stunning works of art that just depict the stupid twats around her. she’s so proud of them.

dan on matt’s shoulders to change a lightbulb even though matt could 100% change it himself. she uses his ears to ‘steer’ him in different directions.

jean and jeremy live in another block but jean gets drunk at a frat party and climbs through neil’s window mistakenly. andrew comes running in hearing a loud bang and finds neil and jean on the floor - jean because he’s drunk and neil because he was sleep deprived and tangled in his duvet when he tried to get up. that’s how jean and neil become friends.

neil scales the building to meet andrew on the roof, regularly. andrew is so outwardly exasperated but he’s weirdly into it?

renee is randomly hyperfixated on bonsai, but this is ruined when kevin, drunk as all fuck, is dared to eat the leaves and ruins her progress. she gets her revenge by cutting holes into all of his socks.

neil exclusively speaks german in a terrible accent one night that actually makes nicky cry. nicky is so pained he rings erik to complain and erik pretends neil is doing a great job. nicky thinks he’s lost his mind.

jean is just constantly high and gets very philosophical. but, like, badly philosophical. he’s either asking if ants piss in a deep, thoughtful tone or quoting obscure lady gaga lyrics. jeremy, equally as high, thinks jean must be a god.

neil inhales the helium from allison’s peppa pig birthday balloon and actually cracks a rib from laughing at his own voice.

dan walks in to see kevin in stilettos with his head rubbing against the ceiling and just slowly reverses.

renee steals the mobility scooter of a homophobic old man and exclusively uses it to get around campus. she calls it the pussy wagon to stop her male gay friends from using it. surprisingly this works.

allison gives a drunken one person rendition of the wizard of oz. everyone watches and finds it hilarious but renee cannot breath by the end of it. allison has never seen the wizard of oz.

they all get high and andrew exclusively talks to them in the lyrics of all star by smash mouth.

neil coaxes an actual fox into aaron’s bed and aaron screams so loud the police get called because it sounds like someone’s being attacked. for once, no one is being attacked.

kevin is a closeted amateur ventriloquist. as in, he practises in the closet.

renee fixes all of their (in this universe, minimal) trauma by holding a weekly story time where she reads them all picture books.

[burntb4bydoll]

Georg NSFW headcannons? I need this in my life rn 😫🙏

YALL GOT ME THIRSTY FOR GEORG 😩💗

Georg Listing NSFW headcannons

•god hes definitely so so good with his hands

•i mean we’ve all seen his hands yes?

•he’ll finger you till you’re back is arching off the bed and you can barely speak

•and his smug ass just calmly watches while grinning to himself

•PULL. HIS. HAIR.

•especially if hes going down on you

•he’ll shove his face into you and groan so loud

•he would hold your hands while he fucks you omg 😩

•but if you piss him off he’ll hold you by your wrist above your head so you can’t touch him

•loves when you ask for things nicely

•he also likes when you’re so needy that you’re whining, but he just loves the pleading look on your face when you sweetly ask for him to make you feel good

•tells you how good your being for him and how pretty you look with him inside you

•he gets pussydrunk so easily and stops speaking English when he does

•cuz that requires too much thinking for him to handle 😭

•so he’ll just dirty talk to you in German

•even if you have no clue what hes saying his voice is hot as fuck so it makes up for it

•he controls your movements when you ride him

•his hands are on your waist guiding you while he thrusts up into you

•I would write a few sub headcannons but i literally can not think of him as a sub im sorry my mind is just going blank

•lord his hands would be perfect for choking

•he would lightly squeeze your throat while he slowly fucks you, just to drive you crazy

•can you tell Ive got a thing for hands? LMAO

[cowboydisaster]

The Fire In Your Eyes

part XI: Horseshoe Overlook vii

pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!reader

word count: 10.2k

summary: Arthur has to break Micah out of jail, leaving you to work a livestock job with John. Hell breaks loose in Valentine, and once again you're forced to leave or die.

a/n: I love this chapter, angst, fluff, a fight, shootouts!! AH. Also if you speak german, I'm so sorry if I butchered the translations. I tried my best. Also tumblr formatting is a pain in the ass, so im sorry for that too lol

warnings: violence, graphic depictions of violence

beta read by @margowritesthings

series extras

SERIES MASTERPOST

The red, cotton sheets are soft against your skin as you wake up, blinking away the fog of sleep. Sunlight shines in through the french doors, making the room almost too bright as your eyes adjust to the light. But, the most important thing that you notice is the absence of that familiar, solid, warmth beside you. Your head pops up from the pillow, squinting as you scan the room. 

“Sorry I didn’t mean to wake ya.” Arthur mumbles, morning voice deep in his chest. Your eyes flicker up to him, buttoning the cuff buttons of his shirt. He glances down at you from his position by the dresser, smiling at your messy hair. The sheets are wrapped around you, leaving your shoulders and back bare, and he runs his eyes over the skin he’d spent all night kissing. 

“You were right.” He nods to you, and you sit up on the plush bed, looking down at yourself. 

“What?” You ask, looking down over your skin until you see exactly what he means.

“Left a mark or two, like you said.”

“Shit, Arthur.” You sigh, tossing the blankets off of you as you stand and move to the mirror. There's a few off-colored splotches on your neck and collarbone, love bites that Arthur has left you. You inspect them in the mirror, pulling your hair around to see if it will cover the marks. You hear Arthur’s boots against the floor as he walks up behind your bare form. 

“To remember me, just till I'm back.” Arthur chuckles, hands finding your waist as he stares at your reflection in the full length mirror. You frown, remembering that today Arthur has to break Micah out of jail. You’ve been enjoying the absence of his loud, foul mouth and stench that follows him like a bad shadow.

"Be careful. Don't do nothin' heroic for that bastard." You say, turning around in his arms to face him.

"For Micah? Course not." Arthur chuckles, leaning down to press a slow, bittersweet kiss to your lips. You know he can handle his own, but the idea of a jail spring in West Elizabeth unnerves you. You lean into him, lips locking for a moment before you pull away. 

Your hands rest on his shoulders, and then you slide them to his neckline to straighten the collar of his shirt. 

"Be careful, mister." You whisper to him, sighing as he pulls away from you. 

“Always am.” He says, and then he’s out the door, on his way to Strawberry for goddamn Micah. It gets under your skin that Dutch is sending him, but you know better than to openly question his decisions. 

After the door clicks shut, you take your time getting ready. You put the same clothes on from the previous day, and despite a few wrinkles, they’re good as new. You grab your satchel, gunbelt, and hat, putting yourself together before checking once more over the room and heading out. The stairs creak under your feet as you walk down into the check in area, finding that the familiar hotel clerk is waiting behind the desk. 

“Good mornin’ miss, I hope you’ll stay again!” He greets, and you chuckle. Just yesterday he was begging you not to beat anyone to death in his hotel, now he’s asking for you to come back. 

“Sure will!” You lie, knowing that you’ll be moving soon, hopefully. You’d like to come back, last night was definitely one of the best in your life, thanks to Arthur and the All Saints Hotel, a deceiving name, you think. 

It's warmer than usual when you open the door, and the sun shines down from between the clouds, casting the town in a mix of light and shadows. You stay on the sidewalk, smiling softly at the people you walk past on the way to the gunsmith’s. 

It’s nostalgic, going into the gunsmith’s shop. It reminds you of your father, and when you open the door, the smell of freshly polished oak and gun oil mix together, bringing back memories from years ago.

“Ah, your guns are ready, miss!” The smith greets when he hears the bell on the door knob jingle. You step towards the counter, waiting as he puts both pointer fingers in the air before dipping behind an open door into the backroom. 

“William did fine work with these, miss! I think you’ll be impressed. He’s damn quick too, they’re ready for ya.” The man yells from behind the wall, and you tap your fingers on the counter in anticipation. After a few moments, he steps around the corner. He places your carbine and revolver down on the counter carefully, and you nearly gasp in awe. 

Firstly, the sight of them together, clean, with improved sights, stocks, and barrels is something to admire. They look like a proper set, and you can’t wait to see what they’ll look like on your hip and shoulder. 

Your attention goes to your carbine first, and the dark leather stock wrap that beautifully contrasts the silver-colored gun. Stars, large and small, connected by thin dotted lines pattern your gun, engraved into the barrel.

“Wow.” You exhale, tracing your hand over the constellations. The gunsmith smiles, eyes crinkling in the corners. 

Then you flicker your eyes to your revolver, and your jaw nearly drops. The same constellations pattern the gun, but on the grip is a howling wolf, head thrown back in a howl amongst the stars. It’s perfect. You clear your throat, realizing you’ve been gawking and stuck in your head. 

“Sorry- it’s just that they’re so beautiful…” You say, blushing before reaching into your satchel, “How much do I owe you?” You ask, grabbing a wad of cash out. The gunsmith shakes his head, placing his hand up to stop you. 

“These have already been paid for, you’re good to go, miss.”

Your eyebrows pull together in confusion, and the gunsmith speaks up to clarify. 

“The feller you came in with yesterday, he stopped by about…” He glances at the clock on the wall, “twenty minutes ago and paid in full.”

Your confused look falls into a huff, and you chew on your cheek, 

“Course he did.” You smile. You’ll get Arthur back for this. He does not need to spend any more money on you, let alone something this expensive. 

“Looks like it’s your lucky day.” The gunsmith says as you holster your revolver and swing your carbine strap over your shoulder. 

“Sure seems to be. Thank you, mister.” You say, turning back towards the door.

He waves as you exit the store, walking back down the street to grab Athena from the hitching post.

— — — —

It’s fairly quiet when you get back to camp, as most of the boys are out working. Charles is out hunting bison, and Javier found some abandoned house up north filled with hillbillies and gold. Arthur has gone to get Micah, and most of the other boys are out on odd jobs and the like. 

You hop down from Athena in search of a task to keep yourself busy. Your stomach was flipping the whole ride home, thinking about Micah coming back to camp. It’s been peaceful without him, and you know that as soon as he returns, he’ll break the little balance that the camp has been keeping. 

You walk to the campfire, finding a seat on a wolf pelt covered log. It’s plush under you, but nowhere near as soft as the hotel’s bed, and you blush, getting caught up in memories. Hosea sits opposite of you on a wooden folding chair. He’s grinding some herbs together with a mortar and pestle, making a health tonic for his cough, you’re sure.

You blink, startled back to the present as Jack runs past you, giggling loudly with two horseshoes in hand. With a smile, your eyes follow him to where Kieran has hammered a piece of rebar into the ground for the young boy to play horseshoes. You chuckle, eyes returning in front of you. Hosea looks up, eyeing you over quickly. 

“Where have you been, dear girl? I’ve missed you in camp.” Hosea says, leaning down to add some water to his mortar. 

“Valentine.” You answer, avoiding some of the details. Hosea smirks, eyes stuck on his hands as he works the herbs down.

“And Arthur?” Hosea asks, arching an eyebrow as he focuses. You can see where this is going, and you know Hosea won’t take to any lies, so you don’t even bother.

“He’s in Strawberry, left this morning to get Micah out of jail.” You explain to him. Hosea nods, and he hums as if questioning you. 

“What?” You huff, knowing that he has something to say, some odd cents to throw in. Hosea chuckles at your tone, shaking his head. 

“Nothing at all, just observing… Neither of you came back last night.” He points out with a knowing look. He’s not chastising or judging you, solely pointing out something he’s noticed. Of course he’s noticed, if anyone were to figure it out, it’d be Hosea.

“C’mon Hosea… leave it be.” You say, voice hushed as to not reach the ears of any lurking gang members. 

“Oh, I’m only pickin’. But you know I notice these things.” He says, and you nod. He always notices the little things. Your eyes flicker up to the older man, the softness in his eyes. In the time you’ve been with the gang, he’s treated you with nothing but kindness and respect. He’s treated you like a daughter in a way, and you know you can trust him with conversations like these ones. 

“It’s just… after the train, when I thought he was gone, it opened my eyes.” You admit to Hosea, head in your hands. He looks at you with a sparkle in his eyes, a word on his lips. 

“The pair of you are a lot like Bessie and I.” Hosea smiles, and you glance up to him. 

“You love him.” Hosea states plainly, “It’s clear as day on your face, that worrying after him, that longing. You love him.”

“I– It’s only been-” You begin, but Hosea doesn’t let you stumble out of this one, instead, he speaks up again. 

“I'm happy for you two, really, I am. That boy hasn’t had someone takin’ care of him in many a year, I reckon. I reckon you haven’t either.” Hoea says, and you put your head in your hands. 

“Is it really all that obvious?” You ask. 

“To an old soul like me? Yes.” Hosea smiles, groaning as he stands up from his seat at the fire. He leaves his mortar and pestle on the ground, coming around the campfire to walk towards you. 

“My lips are sealed, dear girl. Now go on, John was looking for you. There’s work to be done if we’re gonna get out of here before the law catches our tails.” 

“Thanks, Hosea.” You offer as he pats your shoulder lightly.

He sits back down on his chair, taking in the camp’s state before watching you stand up. John is sharpening his knife at the table sometimes used for poker, and you walk towards him with your hands resting on your gun belt, hoping that this job will go better than your last two.

“You were lookin’  for me?” You ask, pulling one of the chairs out and sitting down across from John. 

“Yeah you and Arthur. Don’t sit down, we’re goin’ out.” John says, standing up as he sheathes his knife. You can hear the metallic clink of Jack’s horseshoes hitting their pole, alongside Swanson’s drunken rambling as you push the chair back in. 

“Arthur’s breakin’ Micah out of jail right now, do you think the two of us can handle it? Whatever it is that we’re doin’.” You say, sighing as you follow John towards the hitching posts. 

“Sure we can handle it, we’re only stealin’ sheep.” John chuckles, and you jog after him, confused. 

“Sheep? I don’t know about you, but I’m no rancher, John.” You huff, looking at your thoroughbred. She’s not bred to work livestock, and even if she was, you haven’t a clue on how to. 

“It can’t be that hard. Wait, shit- we need a rifle with good sights, do you have one?” John asks,  and you stop in your tracks, sighing. 

“No I don’t have one– Are you sure you have this job planned out right?” You question him, drawing your eyebrows together with some attitude.

“Yes I’m sure, now grab one from Arthur’s weapon’s box. He won’t mind.”

“He definitely will, but I’ll make sure he knows this was your idea.” You bite, stomping off towards Arthur’s wagon. Another job with John, another underprepared mission that’ll likely get someone hurt. 

You sigh, going to Arthur’s wagon. You kneel on the ground in front of his weapons box, opening the creaky, rusted lid. Your eyes flicker down to the box, and you sift through it, searching for his rifle. You find the rolling block rifle easily enough before meeting John back over by the horses. He’s already mounted up, waiting for you to get on Athena. 

—- —- —-- —

"Come on then, where are we getting these damn sheep?" You ask, mounting up. John canters out of Horseshoe as you follow. 

"Should be comin' through the Heartlands sometime in the hour, probably led by a couple of ranch hands. I reckon we get those ranch hands dealt with and we have the herd for ourselves." John explains, racing over the train tracks toward the rocky Heartlands. You ride on for a while, galloping past herds of bison and deer. 

"What happened with Arthur by the way? It's like he came back and then left again. I barely saw him before he ran off." John yells back to you, and you stumble for an answer. 

"Well, he hid out in Strawberry till the law got away and then made his way back to the bridge. I guess there were a lot of eyes on him when we came back home, so he went to Valentine." 

"I thought he was dead." John admits, "Did you go with him? To Valentine? I didn't see you in camp either…" John recalls. 

"I did." Is all you say, leaving the conversation at that as you canter up the path to the top of a cliff. It's a rocky trail, but eventually you make it to the top. You can look down over and see for miles in both directions. 

"They'll be comin' from Emerald Ranch." John explains, pulling a pair of binoculars out. He looks through them towards the east, waiting for some movement. After a few minutes of him watching, and you toying with your hands, he speaks up. 

"I see somethin', might be them." John whispers, crouching down. You follow suit, kneeling on the rocks as you pull Arthur's rolling block rifle from around your shoulder. You hold up the heavy gun, glancing through the sight. 

You see three men on horses, and about thirty head of sheep in between them. 

"That's them, alright." You whisper back, lowering the barrel of the gun. 

"What's the plan?" You ask, looking over to John as he lowers his binoculars. 

"Wait until they get close, then shoot at their feet. Close enough to scare 'em, but don't actually shoot anyone." 

"I'm not gonna shoot anyone." You bite, lifting the sight back up to your eye. You center the rifle against your shoulder, aiming it towards the herd. You zero in on a spot between the rancher’s, but you hesitate, looking back at John. 

“Won’t this scare the sheep away?” You ask. John waves you off, pointing back to the herd. 

“No– you're just overthinkin’ it. They’re gettin’ close now, shoot at ‘em.” John tells you, and you cock your head, going back to your sights. 

“If you say so…” You hum, and John rolls his eyes. 

You aim back at the ranchers’ feet, squeezing the trigger. The chamber fires, and the bullet lodges into the dirt between the three men. Their horses spook, rearing up and growing skittish, but they keep the herd tight together, not budging. 

“One more shot, make it closer this time.” John says, looking back through his binoculars. 

You aim again, closer this time. Your hands sweat from anxiety and the weight of the gun, and when your trembling fingers squeeze the trigger, you slip just a hair. The bullet lodges into one of the rancher’s shoulders, and you wince as he screams, falling from his horse. 

“Shit, Star!” John hisses, “I told you not to hit anyone!” 

“Clearly, that was an accident- shit.” You wince. Luckily he seems to be okay, save for the wound, and he clambers back up onto his horse before galloping off with the other two. 

“Oops.” You whisper.

John rolls his eyes, running towards the horses. With the gunshot, and the absence of the ranchers, the sheep have scattered, running in opposite directions and bleating loudly in fear. You follow, quickly running towards Athena to catch up to John. You jump onto Athena from behind, and she starts running before you’ve even scooched up into the saddle. 

“You get the east side, I’ll grab the west, get as many back as you can!” John hollers to you, running after the sheep that have run off towards the west. You run towards Emerald Ranch, gathering up as many as you can and pushing them in the direction of Valentine. You have no idea how to herd, but you try your best, shielding them from the wrong way, while encouraging them towards Valentine. It’s a mess, and you barely get them together before taking up the side of the herd opposite of John. 

“We got 'em all?” You holler over, and John shrugs.  

“I don't know, but we got enough.”He yells back. You trot forward, slapping your saddle every once in a while to encourage the sheep forward. It's a messy group, but it works as you push them on.

— — — —

"What in the hell are you two doin'?" A familiar voice calls out, and you glance up to meet Arthur's green eyes. He's trotting towards you on his scarred shire, eyes darting around at the herd of sheep you're barely keeping together. 

"Stealin' sheep!" John hollers over the noise as the animals run amongst themselves, bleating, “Star over here is shootin’ farmers.” John jokes, and you sigh. 

“I told you that was an accident, and I feel real bad for it, so leave it be.” You say. John chuckles, and Arthur raises an eyebrow at you, but you wave it off. 

Seeing the mess of a herd, Arthur flanks the sheep, leaving you pushing them from the back, and John on their other side. It forms a perfect chute to push them along, and you fall into a steady trot, pushing the sheep forward.

"Those guns turned out real fine!" Arthur yells back to you, and you nod, glancing down at your hip. 

"They did, thank you by the way. You didn't have to do that." You yell up, referring to him buying your guns. 

"Ah, I wanted to." Arthur says. John glances between the two of you with a confused look on his face, but keeps quiet other than an occasional cluck or curse at the sheep. 

"How'd it go with Micah?" You ask Arthur, and you see him shake his head. One of the sheep breaks away from the herd, and you canter to the side, cutting it off and forcing it back as Arthur speaks. 

"It was a goddamn disaster. He killed half the town lookin' for a pair of guns, killed a woman he knew, it was real bad." Arthur grits, distaste on his tongue as he spits the words out.

"He go back to camp?" John asks, spurring Old Boy forward, keeping the herd in tight formation as you trot around Citadel Rock. 

"No," Arthur shakes his head, scratching his chin, "He wants to make it up Dutch. He said bringin' home a take would get him forgiven, asked me if I had any leads or jobs." Arthur huffs. 

Your blood runs cold for a moment. You think of the debtor Arthur was supposed to go after yesterday, and you hope he didn't send Micah. 

"Where did you send him?" You ask, voice steady. Arthur doesn't respond, and the only noise is the pounding of hooves as your eyebrows pop up, waiting for an answer. 

"Where did you send him?" You bite, louder and more aggressively this time. John is lost, looking between the two of you. 

"I sent him after Downes." 

You huff, shocked, though you shouldn't be. Athena tosses her head up a few times, picking up on the fact that you're upset. 

"So it's okay to beat a man as long as your hands are clean?" You snap, "Sending goddamn Micah after him. Do you think that makes it okay–? You're not giving the beating, but you can pass it off on someone else and walk away with a clean conscience?" 

John whistles under his breath, keeping his eyes on the sheep and the trail ahead. Meanwhile, Arthur scoffs, as if you're being outrageous.

"I didn't go after Downes, but I can’t stop Micah from goin'." He defends, and you squint at his poor excuse, growing more upset and angry. It's one thing to take from people who deserve it, but the poor? It takes a different type of person to rob and beat the desperate. Only someone with no honor could do that, and looking at Arthur, you wonder where his head's at when it comes to morality. 

"Maybe not, but you told him to go!" You yell over the bleating sheep. They grow more antsy from you and Arthur's yelling, and everyone works harder to keep them in tight formation. 

"Strauss would have just sent one of the other boys anyway! Micah needed work and I gave him some. I'm sorry we don't always have the benefit of pickin' and choosin' what jobs we go on. We need money to get out of this damn place, you should know! You're itchin' to get out of here more than anyone- so no, I didn't question it!" Arthur yells, his face is hot with anger, and as much as your mind barks at you to scream back, you can't find it in your heart to yell at him. 

"Strauss's line of 'work' hurts more than just the debtor. I should know." You say, quieter than you were yelling just seconds ago. Arthur turns in his saddle, sees the tears in your eyes and realizes what a piece of shit he's being. He wonders if he's any different than the bastard who killed your father, and if you see him that way. 

"You ought to figure out who you wanna be, Arthur, a good man or a bad one, cause you can't be both… Good luck with the sheep." You bid goodbye, reining Athena away from the herd. 

"Star, wait." Arthur says as you kiss to Athena, cueing her into a canter past the sheep and the boys, towards Valentine. 

"Star!" Arthur yells after you, but his voice gets quieter as you keep running towards Valentine. A few tears drip down your cheeks, but you wipe them away quickly. You've had a lot of reminders of your family today, and Arthur sending Micah after a debtor sure didn't help. 

You don't even have to steer her, Athena rides you right into Valentine, straight to Keane's saloon, as if she knows you need it. When you pull alongside the hitching post, you spot a pearly white Arabian hitched across the road and you scowl. Great. 

Your need for a drink outgrows your annoyance with Dutch, and you slide down from Athena before walking up to the saloon door. With a hand on either door, you push them open.

Your eyes immediately land on Dutch, and sitting beside him is that little rat, Strauss. Your frown deepens, of course he's here. His beady eyes scan the room, and land on you as you walk forward. The scowl you send him is heated, and he immediately averts his eyes. 

"Star, we were looking for you. Where's John?" Dutch yells out, his booming voice tugging at the scowl on your lips. 

"With Arthur, working." You offer. 

"Come sit, have a drink with us, miss." Dutch smiles, inviting you over. You glance at the bar, then to the square table that they're sitting at. There's an expensive bottle of whiskey on the table, and you decide it's worth the pain of sitting by the bastards. You nod, walking towards their table before pulling a chair out and sitting down. 

Dutch waves the bartender over, calling him to bring you a glass. As soon as the crystal glass hits the table, you're pouring the golden liquid into it. Dutch chuckles, watching as you take a long swig.

"I just wanted to–" Strauss begins to speak, but you glare at him. 

"Shut the hell up." You snap at him, and immediately he goes quiet. 

Dutch on the other hand, laughs boisterously. His hand rests on his manspreading knee as he tips his chair back on its back legs. 

"Feisty thing, isn't she?" Dutch chuckles, and you squint at him dangerously. He places his hands in the air in surrender as you down the rest of your whiskey and pour yourself another one. 

"What job are Arthur and John running? I told them to meet me here…" Dutch asks, swirling his glass. 

"Stealin' sheep and sendin' them to auction. I'm sure they'll be here any minute." You say with a hint of distaste on your lips. You drink your glass of whiskey in one long swig before placing the glass back down gently. 

"I better be heading out, have some debtors to attend to." Strauss smiles, but neither you or Dutch smile back as the man stands up and leaves. 

"I never liked that man's line of work. It seems… worse, stealing from the poor like that." Dutch grumbles, shaking his head. You look over at him surprised. 

"Something we agree on." You huff. You drink the last of your whiskey, pouring another. You watch as Dutch gets lost in his head, and he smiles at some old memory. 

"You know, Arthur, Hosea and I used to steal from the rich and give to the poor… Our first bank robbery, we handed gold and cash out in the slums, gave it all except what we needed." Dutch says, and you lean back in your chair, seeing him in a new light. 

"Hosea thinks we've changed, but we're still chasin' that same dream– freedom from the confines of civilization, paradise in the west." He says, eyes far away as he imagines a future for the gang. You bring your glass up to your lips, thinking over his words. 

"Is that where we're headed then? West?" You ask, and Dutch nods deeply. 

"That's the plan." 

You drink your whiskey before placing your glass down, not knowing if it's your second or third. The old bottle is halfway gone though. 

"Here they come." Dutch smiles, and you turn to see Arthur and John trotting down the road, wearing matching scowls. You can see Arthur bickering with the younger outlaw, in a sour mood. 

"I'm gonna step out for a smoke." You tell Dutch, sliding your chair out as you stand. He tips his hat as you walk out the back door. 

You don't want to say anything you'll regret, so stepping out proves to be your safest option. You lean your back against the outer wall of the saloon, reaching into your satchel to grab your box of cigarettes. You pull one out, striking a match against your boot to light it. Pulling the match to the cigarette between your lips, you watch as it begins to burn, orange and black ashes falling from your smoke when you tap it. 

You inhale deeply, slipping your eyes shut as the tobacco works its way into your system. You feel a little better already, and you take a few steps forward, looking up at the cliffs above you. You watch on for a while, hearing Arthur and John bickering on the other side of the building, and then you hear a shuffle behind you. With your eyebrows pulled together, you start to turn. A rifle hits the back of your head, and a dull pain shoots through your head as you blackout, falling to the floor. 

 — — — —

Your eyes begin to flicker open, and you squint as the bright white daylight blinds you. Your head throbs, and the arms holding you up are gripping onto you too tightly. Muffled voices are yelling, but you can't make out what they're saying until you finally come to. 

"Get up, we're walkin." A man grits at you, and when your eyes adjust to the light, you're met with a Pinkerton Agent. Your eyes pop open widely, and you go to yell, but there's a gag wrapped tightly in your mouth, tied behind your head. 

You panic, thinking they're going to torture you for information. If they wanted to kill you they would have already. You try to grab for your holster, but your hands are tied behind your back, and your guns have been stripped from you. The Agent smirks as it all dawns on you, and he grabs your arm, pulling you with him. 

"Move." He bites, pushing you forward. You stumble ahead, breathing hotly through your gag, struggling as he pushes you into the street. Two big, armed men grab onto your arms, holding you tightly. The barrel of a rifle presses up against your temple as you tremble, assessing the situation. Keane's saloon is in front of you, and you can faintly see the silhouette of Arthur and Dutch drinking inside. When you glance to your side, you see that they have Strauss with you, but he is trembling and tears slip down his cheeks. You have no weapons, your hands are literally bound, your best option is to wait. 

A large man comes forward with a thick white beard. He's neatly dressed and neatly trimmed, clearly a man of money. He has a shining revolver in his hand, pointed up in the air. 

"Van der Linde!" The man screams, voice booming as he roars, pacing up and down the street in front of you. You glance around, seeing that Pinkerton Agents surround the building and the shops in the town. Your breathing quickens as you glance back to the window. 

"Get out here! Get out here now!" The man yells again, growing irritated and impatient. 

"You don't know me, but you keep robbing me!" He screams, and all his men ready their guns at the saloon door. Your heart pounds in your chest. You're outnumbered by a lot. 

"My name is Leviticus Cornwall, I am not a man to be messed with by the likes of you!" Cornwall screams, and your blood runs cold at the name. The wagon, the train, you've been stealing from Cornwall all this time, of course he was bound to retaliate. You watch as the silhouettes behind the windows move, and you know they must be coming up with a plan. 

"Get out here! Before I kill them both!" Cornwall screams, and the man at your back shoves you down hard until your knees hit the mud. You yelp in pain from his shove, and the barrel of his rifle pushes hard against the back of your head for it. 

The saloon door opens, and slowly Dutch, Arthur and John file out with their hands raised. Dutch stands in the middle of the porch, John and Arthur flanking him. Arthur's eyes are glued to you, and his heart pounds as he worriedly scans over you. The sight of you on your knees with a gun to your head is surely burned into his memory. 

"Gentleman, this is a terrible case of mistaken identity…What is worse than admonishing a man for the sins of another?" Dutch begins, and you nervously watch as Arthur waits for an opportune moment. 

"Now, I don't know who this 'van der Linde' is, but surely we can negotiate–" 

Arthur unholsters his revolver and takes out the man at your back in a quick movement. All hell breaks loose, and Arthur finds cover as the three boys start shooting. Cornwall mounts up and runs off quickly, ducking like a coward as he gallops off. Strauss lands a bullet in the leg, and screams out in pain. You duck, running behind a wagon to seek cover as bullets whiz past your head. 

"I gotta go help Star!" Arthur yells, firing multiple times before darting across the street towards you. When he comes around the corner, he skids to his knees in the mud, holstering his gun. His hands pry the gag out of your mouth and you cough, taking a deep breath upon its release. 

He pulls out his knife, reaching behind you to free your hands as you gasp. 

"Y'alright?" Arthur yells over the bullets, and you nod. 

"I'm sorry-" he begins. 

"We'll talk later, we're getting shot at." You yell, running towards the corpse of the man who was holding you hostage. You take your guns off him, and immediately jump in to help. 

"There's more comin' in!" John yells firing into three men in quick succession. You glance at the road from the post office to see a group of men riding in on fine, bay Morgans. Your heart rate picks up as you and Arthur aim and fire, taking down all the men with your smoking carbines. 

"Dutch?! What are we doin' here?" Arthur yells out, jogging up the road towards the jail, you follow him, shooting down men that peak around the gunsmith's.

"We'll get Strauss in the wagon and push it. Arthur, shoot somethin! Star, get in the wagon with Strauss, you can use it as cover!" Dutch yells, and you run and jump into the wagon. You duck behind the wall of the wagon, peeking up enough to fire at the Pinkertons lining the street. Arthur cuts Strauss free, picks him up and tosses him in the horseless wagon. He cries out in pain, gripping his leg tightly.

"I think something is wrong, I believe I severed an artery or- or nicked a nerve–" Strauss begins. 

"Shut up before I put another bullet in you. You're fine." You yell. The wagon starts moving, and you glance back to see Dutch and John pushing it. 

Arthur is using the wagon as cover, running beside it, while shooting men down from the balconies. 

Bullets lodge into the wagon, and you gasp loudly as one hits the wood just centimeters from you. You turn around to see a man fall from the balcony behind you, dead on account of Arthur's smoking revolver. He looks over at you, terrified, until he realizes it missed you. 

You nod to him, letting him know you're fine, before taking your position back and firing into as many men as you can. They pop out from everywhere, with seemingly no end to their numbers. Pinkertons come from around the jail, the doctor's, the saloon, gunsmith, everywhere. They're on roofs, balconies and porches, shooting out of damn windows. Cornwall has hired a goddamn militia. 

Dutch and John are pushing the wagon down the main street, past the saloon as you near the end of the road. 

"There's not many left, just keep shooting!" Dutch yells out, straining as he pushes the wagon. You and Arthur continue firing, and you stop momentarily to reload. 

"I'm low on ammo!" You holler, ducking behind the wall of the wagon as you reload your gun. Once the bullets are loaded, you cock the gun to resume your shooting. When you pop up from your cover, bullets whiz past you. You take down one man from the roof of the stables, and another from the porch of Nils' shop. 

The Pinkertons begin to dwindle down, until Dutch and John push the wagon to the end of the main road, and there are no more. 

"Is everyone alive?!" Dutch hollers out, turning around to count everyone. 

"There could be more comin' we gotta go now." You say, swinging your carbine over your shoulder as you jump down from the wagon. You jog over towards Arthur, noticing a red stain on the arm of his shirt. He sees your eyes flicker to the blood, and you grab his bicep to get a better look at it.

"Just a graze, I'm fine." Arthur reassures you, hand squeezing your elbow lightly as you nod.

Dutch grabs a whining Strauss from the wagon, whistling as the horses come running down the street.

"John, take Strauss on your horse. I'll get Grimshaw to start packing up. You two, make sure they don't follow us." Dutch orders, setting Strauss up on the back of Old Boy. 

"Sure." Arthur answers. 

"We can't stay here after this." Dutch admits out loud, mounting up on The Count who rears and bucks lightly in fear.

"No, we can't." Arthur sighs. 

John mounts up onto Old Boy, and they all run off towards home. You stand next to Arthur in shock, glancing over the bodies that line the streets. 

"You're okay?" Arthur asks, coming towards you. You nod, eyes slipping closed. 

"This was a massacre, Arthur. He hired a militia." You whisper, "And he'll hire another one."

Arthur nods, hands on his gun belt. 

"We'll be okay, and we'll talk about earlier, let's just get home first. Cmon, no one's followin' us." Arthur says, whistling for your horses to come closer. You mount up on Athena, glancing once more over the town. The main street is littered with corpses, destroying the sweet little livestock town. You frown deeply, pushing Athena towards home. 

Upon your arrival, tents are already being torn down and stuffed into wagons. Your tent is gone, and Arthur's wagon is being taken apart and filled with items. You frown at the sight of your home being destroyed, again. 

Arthur jumps down from Balius and walks straight up to Dutch's tent with you in toe. Hosea is in the tent, bickering and finger-pointing at Dutch while you wait outside. 

"This is lying low? We've turned into a bunch of killers, Dutch, I mean it! We ain't even got the delusion of being nothing but a bunch of killers!" Hosea snaps, pointing his finger in Dutch's face. Dutch sits on his cot, calm as ever as he takes in Hosea's words. 

"We are just trying to survive, Hosea. We don't have a choice. This will end soon." Dutch reassures. 

"Damn right, it will!" Hosea yells before backing away and stomping out of the tent. 

"Constipated as usual…" Dutch hums, shaking his head as Arthur steps inside. 

"Where are we headed, Dutch?" Arthur asks, voice quiet, worried. 

"Micah told me of a place, a while back before we came down here. Dewberry Creek." 

Your eyebrows draw together as you look at Dutch, shaking your head. 

"I've been there with John, it ain't gonna work. It's open and it'll be mud when it rains." You explain, thinking back to when you stole the wagon with John. 

"I trust Micah. It will work. Arthur, take Charles and scout it out." Dutch growls at you. You glare at him, stepping forward. 

"It ain't gonna w-"

"I said you and Charles go take a look. Clear off anyone you find before the whole lot of us move in there looking so conspicuous." Dutch interrupts you as you fume. 

"And how are we gonna do that?" Arthur sighs. Dutch shakes his head. 

"I don't know, start dancin'?" 

Arthur looks at Dutch with as much anger as you. He's being sent on errands, when you know it's a waste of time. 

"What am I now, just your goddamn errand boy?" Arthur hisses, stepping out of the tent with you. His hand is on the small of your back as he urges you outside, away from Dutch and the mess he's creating. 

"You're not my errand boy, you are my son. You worry because I worry, we are just the same, you and I." Dutch says, and Arthur walks away from him with a scowl. 

"I swear, he's turnin' into a goddamn lunatic, Star." Arthur whispers hotly, stomping towards Charles' bedroll.

"I know it." You sigh, following Arthur. When you glance over your shoulder you see Abigail sitting on the ground with Jack, tears streaming down his cheeks as Karen and Tilly pack up his bags. You frown, watching on as they take his books and file them away in a chest. 

"But he'll pull through for us. He always does." Arthur adds, and you nod, not saying anything. You don't have to tell Arthur that you disagree. 

Charles is rolling up his bedroll, and adding it to a bag of his things when you both come upon him. 

"Charles, ride with us?" Arthur asks, and Charles stands up, eyebrows pulled together. 

"Of course. Where to?" He asks, grabbing his shotgun from a crate before following you towards the horses. 

"Some dried up river that ain't gonna work as a camp." You bite, aggression not pointed at either of the two boys. 

"She's talkin' about Dewberry Creek." Arthur corrects you with a smirk. 

It's a longer ride, and by the end you're exhausted. It's been a shit day so far, and this part is no exception. Your body aches from rocking in the saddle, and from the hyperextension of your hands being tied behind your back, not to mention your throbbing head from the butt of a rifle earlier.

"Y'okay?" Arthur asks, seeing you stretch your shoulders and crack your neck for the third time in the past ten minutes. 

"Yeah, just hurtin' a little." You admit. Dewberry Creek is just over the hill, and you all lope over it. 

"They hurt you bad?" Arthur asks, suddenly worried. He didn't have time to check over you back after the shootout, he was too worried about getting you out of there. And then immediately getting swooped into a job, he never asked. 

"I'm okay." You admit, reaching over to squeeze Arthur’s hand. He nods, squeezing yours back lightly before you let go and continue riding. 

Charles curiously eyes the motion, making his own assumptions, but he keeps quiet. 

"Creek’s just up here." You call out, pushing Athena a little faster down the hill. Arthur and Charles follow as you come upon the dried up creek bed You slow Athena into a sliding stop, letting the boys take in the spot for what it's worth.

The creek bed is muddy. There are sinking wet spots that make it unlivable, not to mention the fact that it's in the middle of the plains, completely in the open. There are a few tents pitched in the creekbed, a hundred or more feet down. 

“This is worse than I thought… Why would Micah even consider this?” Charles asks. Arthur pushes Balius forward into the creek bed, seemingly eyeing the same tents as you. 

“Are there people living here now?” Arthur asks, riding forward. You follow him, squinting to look for any motion down by the tents. You see none, but ride forward anyway. 

“It looks abandoned.” You say, trotting past Arthur. You scan the creekbed, stopping when you see an unmoving lump of fabric in the distance. As you get closer, you wince, realizing it’s a corpse, face down in the mud. It appears that he was shot in the back while running away. You look back up at the tents, a feeling of unease sweeping over you. 

“I found a body!” You yell back to the boys, and both of them ride up to you, “There’s a camp ahead too.” You add, getting down from Athena. You move towards the body, feeling sorry for the feller as you look him over.

“Stay alert. Any issues, shoot first n’ debate second.” Arthur says, and you huff a humorless laugh. 

“What is with you today?” You hiss, and Charles nods his head, also picking up on Arthur’s sour mood and aggression. 

“I'm not gonna shoot for the sake of it.” Charles bites back, following Arthur towards the camp.

“Survivals for the sake of it, quit talkin.” Arthur snaps, and you roll your eyes, glancing at Charles. 

You come upon the camp, hand resting near your holster as you check it out. You walk through the entrance of a white, A frame tent, finding it to be left untouched. Cans of food sit out, blankets and books are left behind. It's as if whoever was here just got up and left. Arthur and Charles search the tents up ahead, finding the same thing. 

“Looks empty.” Arthur calls out, and you jog up to where he’s at. The only thing left to search is a large wagon, and you set your eyes on it as you walk past the men. 

“Let's make sure.” You say, walking towards the wagon. You peek in the back, finding an opened, empty chest. When you step down, you hear the cock of a shotgun, and you pause, putting your hands in the air. 

Arthur and Charles notice this, and they step forward slowly, pulling a few crates away from under the wagon. You’re taken aback at the sight of a woman and two children, cowering, under the wagon. The mother holds up a shotgun, shielding her son and daughter behind her.

“You can come out of there.” Charles says, holstering his sawed off shotgun as he backs away with his hands raised. You and Arthur follow, surrendering as you give them space to step out. 

“Are you okay?” You ask, shocked at the sight of them. They look terrified, and Charles gestures for them to come out from underneath the wagon. 

“We don’t mean you no harm.” Arthur whispers. 

The woman comes out, with her gun raised up at you three, alternating between you all. Her children follow her, and she keeps them behind her skirt as she stands across from you three. 

“The lady said, are you okay?” Arthur says, gesturing to you. The woman shakes her head as if she doesn’t understand. 

“Sprechen sie Deutsch? G-German?” She asks, translating her words as best as she can. Arthur sighs, tossing his hands up into the air. 

“No.” He says curtly. Much to your surprise, he attempts to shoo them off with his hands as he yells, “Now go on, get outta here! We need the land, go!” He yells, and you step in front of him, stopping him. 

“You’re gonna leave these people to themselves after this?” You ask, gesturing to the body and abandoned camp. Arthur has a grumpy look on his face, a threatening demeanor that works on just about everyone but you. 

“We need this land, Star– we got our own prob–” Arthur begins, but the woman’s young daughter jumps out from behind her, tears in her eyes as she yells in the best English she can. 

“They took our father!!” She yells, crying. Her accent is heavy, but you understand her well enough. Charles steps forward, and the mother raises her gun up again. 

“Who did?” Charles asks, and Arthur shakes his head in disapproval. 

“Men, last night.” The girl adds, watching the three of you. 

“Where?” You ask, but Arthur grabs your arm, pulling you back to look at him. Angrily, you pull your arm back. 

“Ain’t no business of ours. I don’t even speak their language!” Arthur hisses. Charles steps forward, a mean look on his face. 

“You ain't as tough and dense as all that. Come on, Star.” Charles says, and you sigh before following him. 

“Arthur, stay or don’t, but I’m goin.” You say, whistling for Athena. You mount up quickly, following the direction that the young girl had pointed to. 

“We’ll see if we can pick up a trail, c’mon.” Charles says, and Arthur sighs before mounting onto Balius.

Charles starts out the mouth of the trail, picking up a canter. Before he gets to the main road, he points to the ground. 

“A trail, right here.” Charles says, cueing Taima faster. 

“I don't see nothin’.” Arthur pouts, looking at the dirt and seeing… nothing but dirt. You point to the hoof prints on the ground, and the trail that they make along the main road. 

“Hoof prints this way.” You explain, racing faster along the road. The trail dips into the woods, and you follow Charles in a single file line, racing through the trees. 

“So what's goin’ on with you?” Charles asks, glancing back at Arthur. He keeps a steady pace with Taima, dodging turkeys and trees as he follows the tracks, 

“Whatchu mean?” Arthur asks.

“You were just gonna send that woman and her children on their way?” Charles asks. Arthur slings his carbine off of his shoulder, sliding it down the holster on Balius’s saddle. 

“We’re wanted men. We got the Pinkertons breathing down our necks. Star was nearly executed in front of us today, Charles...  We should be moving camp, not runnin’ off on some wild goose chase.” Arthur explains, and you pick up on the reason for his upset. 

“That's why you’re upset. Arthur, I'm okay.” You offer, but it doesn’t ease his worry. He won’t feel better until you’re far away from this mess. 

“Maybe now, but that Pinkerton was seconds away from putting a bullet in you, and don’t think I didn't see that goddamn mark on your head.” Arthur hisses, and you instinctively run your hand up to the back of your head where a welt resides from the butt of that bastard’s carbine. It grows quiet as Charles breaches the woods, coming upon Flat Iron Lake. 

“This way.” He says quietly, cantering along the shore. You follow, and after a while of running alongside horse tracks, you come to a grassy opening. It must be the right place, as crates and a few bedrolls lie around scattered. It's a beautiful spot, and the golden evening light shines brilliantly across the lake, cascading around you. 

“This is a better camp spot than back there.” You say, looking over the large, old oak tree in the center of the camp. The lake laps at the shore of the little peninsula, calmingly. 

“This looks like our feller.” Arthur hollers from ahead of you, and your head snaps in his direction to where a man is hogtied on the grass, yelling through a gag. Arthur jumps down from Balius, jogging over to the man. He slips the man’s gag off, and immediately the German man begins to scream. 

“Vorsichtig!! Vorsichtig!!” 

<careful! careful!> The man screams, and bullets begin to whiz around past you.

“Take cover!” Arthur yells, and you leap down from Athena, sliding behind a crate as the horses run off. Men come from behind the trees, shooting at you. You fill your carbine, popping up from the cover to fire into three men’s chests. There aren’t many of them, and you take out as many as you can. 

“Watch! They’re comin’ in on horses!” Charles yells from behind the tree, and you glance towards the trail leading in where four men on horses ride in. 

You take down one, and Arthur and Charles take down the rest. 

“Are there any more of them?” You pant, lowering your constellation-patterned weapon. 

“No.” Arthur mumbles, holstering his revolver. 

You look behind you, past Arthur to the hogtied man. He's writhing on the ground, clearly in pain from being tied up so long. You jog over to him quickly, unsheathing your knife before cutting his ties free. Arthur and Charles whistle for your horses, walking towards you as the man clambers up, rubbing at his raw wrists. 

"Danke! Danke!!" 

<thank you! thank you!> The man smiles, turning around in both ways as if he's lost, searching for a familiar way out. 

"We'll take you back to your family, mister." You say slowly, wondering if he understands any English at all. 

"Star–" Arthur begins to protest, but you're not having any of it. You won't let him protect you if it leads to others getting hurt. 

"Charles, go back to Horseshoe and bring the caravan here. It's a good spot." You address Charles before turning to the man, "We will take you back to your family." You say, waving him towards your horse. He follows you, looking mighty confused as you mount up into Athena. But when you extend your hand to him, he takes it, hopping up into the mare's croup. 

"Was tun wir jetzt"

 <what are we doing now?> The man says, and not understanding, you keep on riding. 

"Also komme ich dann mit?" 

<so I'm coming with you then?> He asks again, and you sigh. 

"I'm sorry, I have no clue what you're sayin', mister." You sigh, following the trail back towards Dewberry Creek. 

"Wo bringst du hich min?" 

<where are you taking me?>  He asks again. You don't respond, but Arthur does. 

"What in the hell did you do to those fellers back there?" Arthur asks, following beside you on his shire. 

"Was hast du gesagt."

<what did you say?> 

Arthur sighs, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he rides along.

"Those men back there. Why- did- they- take- you?" Arthur asks, pronouncing each word slower, as if it'll help the man understand. 

"Geld. Money." The German husband says. You glance over your shoulder at him, wondering what trouble he's in over money with fellers like those. He's well dressed, and his family was too. You doubt he's a debtor. 

"Meine Familie hat ein Goldminen Geschäft. Sie wollten ein Lösegeld schicken." 

<my family owns a gold mining business. they wanted to send a ransom.>  He explains, and you try to decipher the German words. 

"How did someone even come up with them words?" Arthur sighs as you try to understand.

"G-gold minin'?" You attempt to say the word in German, "Your family owns a gold mine?" You say, glancing at Arthur with wide eyes. 

"Ja, yes!" The German man exclaims, and your eyes boggle. 

“Ihr beide bringt mich zu meiner Familie? Oh danke. Wie haben sie euch beide gefunden?”

<you’re taking me to my family? oh, thank you. how did they find you two?>

“Sorry partner, I can barely speak english.” Arthur huffs as you ride up on the Dewberry Creek bank. When you come over the hill, the man’s family is waiting for them. They’ve readied their wagon, and two draft horses are tethered to the front of it. 

“There they are.” You whisper back to the man with a smile on your face as the children point and smile. 

“Oh, Gott sei Dank!”

<oh, thank god!> He calls out, jumping down from Athena. He runs to his family, and catches his wife in a tight hug as the children run and wrap their arms around him. 

“Schatz!” 

<darling!> He exhales, releasing a held breath when he sees and feels his family. 

“Andreas!” His wife cries, kissing his cheek. 

“Ich dachte du wärst tot.” 

<I thought you were dead.> She says, tears slipping down her cheeks. 

“Ich war es fast.”

<I nearly was.>  Andreas admits before looking down and greeting his children. You watch on as Arthur dismounts, going towards the little reunited family.

“Wir sind gesegnet, euch beide kennengelernt zu haben.” 

<we are blessed to have known you both.> The wife cries to you and Arthur as her husband helps her up into the wagon. You’re not sure what she’s said, but you’re sure it’s some form of gratitude. 

Arthur steps forward, shooing the family on. 

“Get outta here, this place ain’t safe.” Arthur tells them, but no one moves. 

“Get outta here! Vamos! Vamos!” Arthur yells, in a sad excuse for spanish while talking to german folks. You snort as the children clamber up into the wagon. The man points his fingers into the air as if he has an idea before digging through a compartment in his wagon. 

“Ich habe etwas für dich, Augenblick." 

<i have something for you, one moment.> He says, digging through the wagon as Arthur huffs, impatient. You only watch on from Athena, amused by Arthur’s easily frustrated state. Andreas turns around, holding two heavy, shimmering bars of gold in his hands. Your eyes boggle as he hands one to Arthur, and then comes forward to offer the other up to you.

“Danke aus tiefstem herzen”

<thank you from the bottom of my heart.> He whispers, glancing between you and Arthur. 

Arthur stares at the gold bar for a moment before glancing back up at the man as he climbs into his wagon, slapping the reins over the horses’ backs. 

“Guess it was a pleasure…” Arthur mumbles under his breath, sliding the gold bar into his satchel. You place your own in your saddle bag, saying nothing as he climbs on to Balius before you both make the trip back to the opening by the lake. You don’t have to say anything, he knows what you’re thinking. This is what happens when you help people. 

— — — —

When you’d arrived at the new camp, called Clemens Point, you found out, Grimshaw had already pitched your tent up next to Arthur’s wagon. You didn’t have the heart to tell her it was a waste, so you said nothing. Your tent is on the east side of the camp, not far from the lake. If it’s quiet, you can hear it lapping against the shore quietly. It’s a little warmer down in Lemoyne, something you’re grateful for. 

After helping everyone unpack, setting up the rest of the tents, grooming and untacking the horses, unloading the wagons, and cooking dinner, it’s nearly one in the morning. Absolutely exhausted, you begin pulling your gun belt off before you even enter your tent. You push the white canvas open, stepping inside and dropping your belt onto the ground. You strip down your clothes, feeling freer with every shed item until you’re left in just your underthings and a loose-fitting shirt. You take your hair out of its tie, scratching at your scalp before stepping towards the bed. 

A light knock sounds out on the front beam of your tent, and you smirk as Arthur steps in. He’s already dressed down, wearing nothing but his union suit and a comfortable pair of jeans. 

“Figured you’d want me in here.” He says with a smile, stepping forward and wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“I’m glad you came.” You hum, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him. Your lips meet in a sweet, slow kiss. It’s been a long, hard day and you’re both exhausted. Your lips part as you grip his arm and drag him to bed with you. You lay on your side, and Arthur’s chest lines your back tightly. One of his arms is under your head, and the other is draped over your waist. 

“I'm sorry about this mornin’.” Arthur whispers, and your lips fall into a small frown. You knew this was coming.

“It’s okay...  Just, choose who you wanna be. You can’t be a good man and a bad one, you gotta pick.” You say, turning around in his arms. His hands are warm on your body as you look up to his terrified eyes.

“Do you think I’m a bad man?” He asks, eyes searching yours for any hint of an answer. You shake your head. 

“No. I think you’re a good man, one of the best. But I think that can change, if you keep goin’ down this path.” You tell him truthfully, and he nods.

“Thanks, darlin’. I’ll be tryin, for you.” Arthur whispers, pressing a slow, sweet kiss to your temple while releasing a breath. 

“Get some sleep now, okay?” Arthur says quietly, pulling the blanket further up over you. You hum, content, nuzzling into his chest until you’re fast asleep. It doesn’t take long with how exhausted you are. 

Back in Arthur’s wagon, sitting on his bedside table is his journal, with one new entry scribbled onto the white pages: 

She sees the good in me. I don’t know how or why, and yet she does. She looks at me like I’m the sunshine, brightening up her day. I fear I’m the opposite, but I’m trying everyday to be better for her. It’s an uphill battle. One step forward, two steps back, but I’m trying to be the man she deserves. She deserves so much, a family, a real home. I’d like to give her that one day. God– I’m sweeter on her than honey itself, I reckon. ♡

taglist: @margofiore @mrsarthurmorgan7 @woman-with-no-name @tillith @luvliewriting @pine4pple-b0i @photo1030 @dudsparrow

series taglist: @catnotbread @chxosangxl @globetrotter28 @justalittlerayofpitchblack @fruittiest-of-loops @randomidk-123 @heyworld-whatsup @btsiguess-kpop @how-the-heck-would-i-know @rratman @eyelovie @mykneeshurt

[starryhunbun]

It's midnight and I can't sleep because i have yet again thoughts to share. I just came to think of something unsettling and it's bothering me so much that I just couldn't continue with my life without shari g this with anyone.

I'm German. So when it comes to things that are somehow connected to germany, I’ll know it. And I'll be like "Oh, yeah I know that too, that's funny".

Example: when Wednesday started speaking German (sort of).

I also watch and read blue lock. So when this mf came up:

Micheal fucking Kaiser who speaks german just like we can see in this panel ("auf die Knie"/eng: kneel), I was like oh, yeah makes sense he's playing for one of the most popular and successful football Clubs of Germany. Hell, members of my family are huge Bayern München fans (that's the original name btw, not bastard munchen). So naturally he speaks german. His name is so painfully German too, my old teacher's name was Misses Kaiser so yeah. The only thing more German than this is if his name was Müller.💀

But that's not what this is about.

This is not about the fact that he is German.

This is about the fact that he is from fucking Munich and it just hit me recently when I thought back to my own visit there while going through my pictures. It's beautiful there, really. A regular big city in Germany. Whatever.

WHAT IM TRYING TO SAY IS THAT THEY HAVE A DIALECT!

Just like people from Texas have an accent, people from Munich, the very place the bastard munchen players come from, have an ACCENT. Of course not everyone and all that but still. THIS ACCENT EXISTS AND I FORGOT ABOUT IT AND NOW I CANT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT.

Because NOW THAT BLUE LOCK SEASON 2 IS ANNOUNCED IM SCARED THAT THEY WILL GIVE KAISER THE MOST DISTURBING BAVARIAN (bayrisch) DIALECT BECAUSE I THINK THIS ACCENT IS SO SILLY.

(no hate to those who have it, it's totally normal. I just dont understand yall😃 I feel like this)

BECAUSE CAN YOU IMAGINE THIS GUY PICKING A FIGHT ISAGI WITH A SILLY DIALECT?

I CAN'T.

For those who cant imagine the impact of this dialect I found a good video to show the difference between standard German and Bavaria dialect. The girl in the white speaks with dialect Btw.

Part 1 || Part 2

[riceys]

Could you write for schlatt?

I'm thinking an English/German girl who is his graphic design (does like his thumbnails and like website) and after late night and long discord calls he slowly realises he doesn't just see her as an employee or friend but something more? I saw this sort of idea some where recently and it's giving me brain rot. Plus the banter between an English/german person would be unhinged.

YESSS OMG ACTUALLY LOVE THIS ive thought about this so much recently and i know german soo

gonna do hcs for this :)

also im very bad at formatting so sorry about that (ill probably rewrite stuff after i figure out how the fuck to do it)

Jschlatt x german/graphic designer!reader hcs

warnings-some nsfw at the veryyyy end

Wilbur introduced you two after schlatt said something about needing an artist for his channel

'find graphic designer !!!' schlatt mumbled while writing on the dull yellow paper. He was in a call with some friends, not really paying attention to what they were doing as he was busy making a sort of to-do list

"schlatt are you there?" the thick accented voice brought schlatt out of his daze

"hm yea sorry whatd you say willbur"

"i said my mate is a graphic designer, i can send you her info if you want." wilbur repeated with a laugh

"oh shit yeah thatd be great man thanks"

definitely left the call to go talk to you after that

very caught of gaurd by your accent, wilbur had failed to mention the slight language barrier as you were used to doing work in german

"so its a little ram with a sweater" his voice suprised you, wilbur didnt say anything about him being american.

"a what?" you laughed at the foreign word nervously. He sounded intimidating and it was kinda hot???

"a uhh," he laughed pulling out his phone, "einen bock? i think." Any sense of intimidation melted away as he stuttered out the poorly pronounced german.

absolutely melts when you giggle at this ^^

he LOVES your laugh!!! specifically that he can hear the accent come through in it

once you start working for him finds a way to sneak your art into everything he does and pays you way more than he should be

"Schlatt this is like triple my rates, you really dont need to pay me this much"

"consider it a tip, toots"

flies you out to every single event he goes to. merch photoshoots? you're in every photo. creator clash? he bought you the best seats in the house. says its a "business thing". (its not)

gets to the point where you're spending every other month in Austin with him before you move out there.

when chuckle sandwich starts he begs you to do all the art for it too (not that you would've said no)

Also begs ted to have you on as a guest

guest turns into member after the first chuckle week, where schlatt insisted that you be there cause you made the art

finally asks you out the week after the 1st chuckle week where they stay for the week to decompress

took you to boa then going stargazing

asks you out in german

"Sehr Schön" you breath out as you look up at the stars. Schlatt next you is freaking out trying to get the courage to ask you out.

"Du bist Sehr Schön" He misspronounces, still managing to make you blush. He only knew what that meant because he had been studying how to ask you out in german all week.

He puts a finger under your chin to shift your focus to him before speaking, "y/n, Ich mag dich wirklich, wirst du mit mir ausgehen?"

It was obvious he had used google translate and taught himself how to say it as he mispronounced many words and had a slight stutter, but it meant the world to you

Pulling him in for a kiss you paused to look at him, "Du bist dumm, Jschlatt"

asks you to speak to him in German

teases you so much (lovingly obviously)

also (nsfw time)

learns how to call you a slut in german

when he fucks you so good and you start babbling in german

sorry if this wasnt great i kinda got carried away and its my 1st writing thingy