#hunter morgan

[gifsofstar]

1.09 || 1.11 || 1.12

[arthursfuckinghat]

I'm at that part of chapter three my friends, so let me be a reminder that Colm O'Driscoll's plan to lure in Dutch after taking Arthur failed because nobody came looking for him.

He would have died being held captive any longer, he barely escaped.

The gang did not come for Arthur.

[the-karma-cafe]

Medium honor Arthur picks up character but it’s for a crime she didn’t do! Oh and outdoorsy love stuff

a/n: omg ok i dont know what you mean by outdoorsy love stuff is that SEX or is that FLUFF (im giving you both) thank you for the request !!

warnings: DID NOT PROOFREAD, sex (hell no !!!), spanking, he's a little mean but not really (as medium honor usually goes), mildly dubious consent

Warm | Arthur Morgan

It was the age-old story of being in the wrong place at the wrong time. When I discovered Mrs. Braithwaite on the floor一thick, wine-red blood pooled beneath her chest一I’d barely had a second to react before one of her sons screamed, tackling me to the ground. His fingers were bruising against my arms, shaking me, asking what the fuck was the matter with me, telling me I’d fucking swing for this. 

I don’t even remember how I got away from him, slamming something into his skull and breaking free from that iron grip, leaping off the balcony without a second thought.

It was only miles away on one of their prized horses did it finally hit me that whatever case I’d had to defend myself with was long gone. I wouldn’t be able to show my face in Rhodes again一or really anywhere else一with a high-profile family like the Braithwaites on my ass.

I kept riding further north, hoping to put as much distance between me and that damn corpse as possible. Of all the people, it had to be her, and it had to be me. 

By the time I reached Valentine, I’d felt more sorry for myself than I had in a long time. Thanked my lucky stars I always kept my money on me and bought some supplies there to… well, live on the lam, I supposed. 

But for the first couple nights, I moped. Stayed in the saloon every morning and the hotel every night一not much else to do in a livestock town. 

When I felt a bit better, I sold the Braithwaite horse. It was big and proud and all sorts of attention-grabbing. I bought a different one一drab and small, but fast. 

Sooner than I thought, the news had travelled. A new bounty poster was slapped right on the wooden post outside the saloon, my sketchy reflection glaring back at me. MURDEROUS MAID. 

I pursed my lips. They could’ve spared me the alliteration.

Tore it down, stuffed it in my bag, and left town. Wouldn’t take long for a small town like Valentine to put two and two together. 

The bounty was nothing to sneeze at. I was almost flattered. Wanted alive, $500. I figured it’d take a lot to deter bounty hunters from $500, so I took to the mountains. It was likely just a matter of time, but by god was I going to make them work for it.

Now, here I was, having found some barn to hole up in, next to the remains of a torched homestead (I’d briefly picked through it and rescued a dented can of peaches and a lock box holding some fancy necklace). Would’ve preferred the house, but shelter was shelter. Peaches (affectionately named after said can) seemed to like it in here, at least.

“You want one, boy?” I held one out to where he sat a foot or so away from me. For only having just met me, he was a sweet horse, resting his head on my lap while I slept, following me around while I hunted (although I quickly found he loved to scare off game, and it took a lot of convincing to get him to just stay put, goddammit).

Peaches leaned his big head forward and sniffed at the proffered fruit. To my surprise, he snorted and turned away from it, flicking back his ears and giving me a severe side-eye. “What!” I laughed, bringing it back away from him. “Now you tell me.”

He huffed out of his nose, like it should have been quite obvious, thank you very much. I giggled and continued to eat, idly watching the flame flicker in one of the lanterns hung from the ceiling. 

I eventually drifted off to sleep, still not any closer to figuring out my future than I was a month ago.

The next morning, I ventured back into the wilderness to hunt. So far, I’d been a bit less successful than I’d hoped, but I had done well enough for myself. 

I breathed out slowly, my arm steadily following the movements of a buck a couple yards away. My breath puffed out white in front of me, warming my nose. This was the closest I’d ever gotten to game this big.

The buck lowered its head, nosing past the snow to the damp grass below. I kept my arrow aimed above, where I knew its head would return. A breath in. C’mon…

It raised its head, staring off to its right somewhere, and I stretched back the string, my grip still a bit wobbly against its force. Another breath out. 

A whisk of air whooshed over me, and I startled, releasing my grip on the arrow. It flew a couple feet away before planting headfirst into the snow. Something forcibly tightened around my torso, crushing my arms against my sides. What the hell?! I yelped in surprise and wobbled from my perch, falling backwards.

My head dented the snow behind me, sending it down my collar and into my hair, freezing my neck and ears. “Ahh!” I struggled against the coil around me, simultaneously flinching away from the cold now assaulting my warm skin.

Footsteps crunched over to me, and an upside-down face and chest soon came into view. He looked down at me with a pleased expression on his face, or at least it seemed like it, it was hard to tell behind that high collar and tipped hat. 

He rounded to my front and his gloved hands yanked at the rope, pulling me slightly up from the snow to face him better. He squinted at my face, now surely pinkened from the snow I could still see on my lashes. His chest rumbled with approval, and he nodded, more to himself than me. “Thought so.”

“What?” I exhaled, staring up at him dumbly. 

He cracked a smile, and this time I could tell. “The murderous maid, I take it?” 

My blood ran cold. Oh, fuck. I had almost forgotten, tucked away in this silent, snowy haven. 

Apparently my expression was all it took to confirm things for him. His smile turned to a smirk and he tugged at the rope, bringing me up to stand. I instinctively pushed away from him, but he held me firmly to him, his arms thick and strong (my god this man was big). He looped the rope around me again before tying it securely at my front. 

Then, he promptly threw me over his shoulder and began to walk. 

“Let me go!!” I thrashed from my perch, kicking at him. 

He growled and tightened his grip on my thighs. “Kick me again and I'll make you regret it, girl.”

A fearful whimper slipped past my lips and I stilled. 

“That’s what I thought,” he grunted, but his grip didn’t loosen. 

He whistled, loud and sharp, and I heard the familiar sound of hooves approaching. The image of Peaches by himself in the barn flitted through my head.

“Um, mister?” I whispered, my tone timid and polite. The tone I used to use with the Braithwaites. 

He heaved a sigh, annoyed with me. “What.”

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to anger him further. “My… my horse. He’s in a barn nearby, I don’t want him to be stuck up here all by himself.”

He didn’t respond to that. I grimaced. If I’d kept the Braithwaite horse at least he would’ve saved it to sell it一Peaches was likely barely worth the walk to a man like him.

His horse slowed to a stop nearby, and the man none-too-gently threw me over its back. I winced, feeling its butt dig into my stomach. 

The bounty hunter made quick work of me, tying my legs together and then securing me to his horse. He patted my thigh, “Comfy?” I could almost hear the smug look on his face.

“More ’n ever.” I grumbled, mostly to myself. He barked a laugh and pulled away from me, leaving me cold. He mounted up on his horse and began to ride.

I couldn’t see much from my “seat,” but I began to vaguely recognize the path he followed.

“Are you…” I started, my voice quiet. I turned my head to look up at him, and raised my voice. “Are you goin’ back for him?”

He didn’t answer, and made no move to indicate he had even heard me. 

Not wanting to push my luck (or Peaches’), I stayed quiet.

Sure enough, we reached that barn and he dismounted. When he returned, Peaches was in tow, neighing happily when he saw me.

I laughed brightly despite the situation. “Hey, boy!!” The bounty hunter released his reins and Peaches bounded up to me, nuzzling and snorting into my hair wetly. I giggled and tried to move my head away. “Oh my god, Peaches, gross.”

“Peaches?” the man echoed, a note of disbelief coloring his tone.

I turned and smiled up at him. “What?”

He shook his head, gesturing to the horse. “Ain’t he a boah?”

“So?” 

He snorted, but didn’t answer me, instead mounting back up on his horse. My smile faded from my face as we continued. My last days of freedom.

I stayed quiet as we rode, figuring that was the best way to get on his good side (I didn’t need to get smacked for yapping). The horse’s gait made me feel sick enough that I didn’t want to, anyway, its back poking into me, alternating between every corner of my stomach with each step.

Eventually, the snow began to taper off down the path, though a chill still hung in the air. I shivered, the back of my jacket still wet and cold against my neck. The sky was beginning to darken, subtly and colorlessly as winter skies often did. 

Wordlessly, the bounty hunter turned us off the path and into the trees, likely seeking some spot to set up camp for the night. Peaches followed dutifully behind us, although he seemed to have sobered a bit, as if sensing my discomfort. 

He must have found a spot he liked, as he dismounted and reached by my side for his tent and bedroll. He pulled them off and got to work setting everything up. 

I felt my eyelids droop, my body finally able to relax with the horse stopped. 

Not ten minutes later, I was jolted awake by hands grabbing me off of the horse and hoisting me up. I made a small noise of surprise in my throat, feeling him drop me back onto his shoulder, carrying me over to his makeshift camp. Truthfully, I had thought he’d just leave me on his horse for the night. 

I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse.

The bounty hunter dropped me to the ground by the fire, and I huffed, adjusting myself to sit upright. The warmth wafting off of it confirmed that this was definitely better than being stuck on that horse all night. I leaned closer to it, and made to bring my hands up, but was cruelly reminded of the ropes keeping them by my sides. I heaved a sigh.

A bottle appeared in my vision. I blinked down at it in confusion, before looking up at the man who held it. “Whiskey?” I prompted.

“If there’s any time to drink, it’d be now.” He nudged the lip of the bottle closer to my mouth.

I held his gaze for a moment longer before turning to it. “…Can’t argue with that.” I pressed my lips against it. He lightly tipped the bottle, letting a good mouthful flow past my lips. I choked it down, then another, then another, then another, before finally wrenching my face from it, coughing. “Jesus!”

He laughed, corking it and tucking it into his satchel. He knelt down behind me and I felt a pressure on the ropes before they snapped away. I brought my arms forward slowly, rubbing my hands over them. He stood and rounded the fire, plopping down on the other side of it. I looked up at him in confusion.

He grinned. “Gave you enough whiskey that even if you try to hop away,” He paused, his grin turning wolfish, “You won’t get far.” He stretched out languidly, finally allowing himself to relax. 

Heat crept up my neck, flustered at his reasoning. “You just get all your bounties drunk?” I spluttered.

He shrugged.

I huffed, holding out my hands towards the fire to warm them. “Creep.”

“I ain’t the one goin’ around killin’ old ladies.” He retorted.

I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. “I didn’t kill her!” 

“Sure sounds like you did.”

I raked my hand through my hair. “Why the hell would I kill the woman payin’ me to live?” I met his gaze again. 

He didn’t seem very sympathetic. Another shrug. “Lots of people wanna kill their boss.”

“Not me!”

He snorted. “I’m shoah.”

I shook my head at the fire, deflating. “I had it made working for her. Easy work, good pay, didn’t really have to talk to anyone, and,” I shrugged my shoulders, “best part of having a lady boss is she won’t let the men get away with being terrible to you.”

He stayed quiet, and I felt myself ramble more, “I mean, sure, she was a miserable old hag, mean ’n sour, but as long as you stayed out of her way and did your job, she was cordial enough.” The image of her on the ground flicked through my mind. “Shit.” I pressed my palms into my eyes, wiling them to cast it from my brain. “Can’t believe this is how it ends.”

The drink began to encroach further into my head, making my thoughts hazy. I cursed again under my breath, the reality of the situation truly, truly, settling in. This was it for me. Swinging from a rope for a crime I didn’t commit. 

“You really didn’t do it.” 

I scoffed, not meeting his eyes. “Been sayin’ that, haven’t I?”

“…That you have.” 

Silence fell between us once more, each left with our thoughts. It felt nice to be believed by at least one person before the end. 

A gust of wind blew by, and I shivered, reminded of the wet coat I was still shrouded in. I glanced over the fire at the bounty hunter, but he didn’t look up, eyes hidden under his hat.

“...Mister?”

He raised his head, and that piercing gaze met mine. I faltered, almost losing my voice to it.  

He heaved a great sigh. “…Arthur.”

“What?”

He sighed, raising his hat momentarily to rake a hand through his hair before placing it back down again. “Call me Arthur.”

I smiled softly in spite of myself. “Okay.”

“…And what did you need?” Arthur prompted, as I had already forgotten. Perhaps he was right about that whiskey.

I rubbed my hands on my arms. “Do you have any… drier clothes I could wear?”

He nodded, pushing up from the ground. I watched him make his way over to his saddlebag, watched him rifle through it for something dry. 

It had to be the whiskey. Or that he was the first to believe me. Or that he was really the first person I’d seen in weeks.

His back was just so… broad. My eyes followed how the muscles underneath his shirt moved, following his arms’ movements. My mind helpfully supplied how one of those big arms felt wrapped around my thighs, how that big hand felt patting my thigh, so close to…

He turned around, and I forcefully muted my thoughts, spreading a polite smile on my face. He made his way back to me, some bunched up garment in hand. I began to shrug off my coat, struggling with it as it snagged on my undershirt and held tight to my shoulders. 

Arthur watched me try to figure it out, but eventually I just gave up, so fatigued from the day that I just didn’t care anymore. He chuckled, kneeling down next to me. “Outsmart you, did it?”

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “I’ll deal with it in a second,” I offered a small smile, “Thank you.” 

“I got it,” he said, and at first I wasn’t sure what he meant. He dropped the coat in his hand and moved in front of me. I watched him wordlessly, suddenly feeling very tired of talking anyway. 

Arthur’s eyes met my own for a moment, searching my face. Whatever he found there, he seemed satisfied with, and he moved his hands to the buttons of my jacket. He started from the top, unbuttoning each at an impossibly slow pace, or at least it felt like it.

He smoothed his hands up to my shoulders, and gently pushed off each sleeve, taking out my arms. I shivered again, my skin now freshly exposed to the cold. I spied the slightest twitch of his lips. He reached around me, his body hovering slightly above mine, his neck an inch from my lips. I felt myself lean forward, my nose brushing up against him. His hands pulled the rest of my coat off from behind me, and he sat back, bunching it into a ball. He then took his dry coat and pulled it over me in its place, rubbing his hands slightly up and down my arms. “There,” he said, and rested back on his heels again. 

I blinked up at him, my lips slightly parted. His face softened, his lips pulling down into a teasing smile. He reached out and cupped my cheek, and I leaned into it almost immediately, not caring enough to be embarrassed by it. So big and warm. “Lookit you…” he cooed, his thumb stroking my skin. “Feelin’ that drink already?”

I hummed noncommittally, too focused on the newfound warmth from his jacket around me and his hand on my cheek. 

Arthur huffed a quiet laugh, “Guess that’s a yes.”

He stood, dropping his hand from my cheek, and my head dropped slightly. I sighed, snuggling into his jacket to make up for it. It wasn’t the same. 

“‘M still cold.” I complained.

“Yer insatiable.” He said, but knelt back down again nonetheless. I raised my head to meet his gaze. He thinned his lips. “Don’t think I’ve ever had such a whiny bounty.”

“Sorry, Arthur.” I mumbled, looking over at his tent longingly. It wasn’t my barn, but it would give at least some protection from this wind, as opposed to sleeping out here. 

Before I could ask about it, air whooshed beneath me, and I yelped in surprise. Arthur had hoisted me up into his arms, and began to carry me to his tent. My eyes widened slightly. “A..Arthur?” I whispered, subconsciously snuggling into his chest. He was so strong, it was like I weighed nothing to him.

“You’ll just whine all night if I don’t let you stay in here.” He explained, ducking past the flaps to drop me down on the bedroll. He was probably right about that. Or maybe this was just another way of making sure I didn’t escape while he slept.

I rolled under the cover, snuggling into it as far as I could. I inhaled deeply, breathing in the scent of him, so much stronger here than on his jacket. My eyelids fluttered closed. 

I felt him sigh and enter the bedroll next to me. It was a tight fit, Arthur pressed against my back to keep any amount of cover atop him. His hand rested on my hip, heavy and possessive. “Warmer?” He whispered, his breath tickling my ear. He was so close.

“Mm-hm,” I hummed, my voice barely coming out. 

I thought that was it, but then…

His voice dropped lower, quieter. “…You sure?” 

A shiver ran through me. What? His hand squeezed my hip lightly, pulling me closer into him. His breath ghosted past my ear, against my neck. Was he…?

I exhaled shakily, some deep part of my whiskey-addled brain telling me that this was my chance. That if there was anything that would convince this man to let me go…

Lightly, I pressed back into him, sighing when I felt his hand smooth to the top of my thigh. “Could use a bit more,” I murmured.

It was all the prompting Arthur needed. Hot lips pressed against my neck, his hand insistent on molding my ass against the hard line in his pants. My breath hitched in surprise, and I felt myself rock back against him before I could think. He cursed under his breath, dragging his hand forward and between my thighs. I attempted to part my legs, allow him better access, but was met with resistance. 

Oh, right. The rope. 

He laughed behind me, smoothing his hand back to grab my ass instead. I squeaked in surprise, feeling him push me onto my stomach. “Don’t think you’re gettin’ out of those anytime soon,” he promised. I flushed at that.

Arthur yanked me back, forcing my ass into the air. I felt his hands palm me, smoothing circles into my pants. “Looks even better like this,” he muttered, and I couldn’t tell if he was talking to me or himself. 

Before I could respond, he reached around and unclasped my pants (much faster than my jacket), pulling down at the sides just enough. The rope bound me mid-thigh, so he could only get my pants down so far. A cool breeze blew past the tent, and I felt a bit of it ghost against me. My face reddened, feeling all at once how wet I was. Really? I felt surprised at myself.

I squirmed, rubbing my thighs together. “Arthur, are-“

A slap to my ass silenced me. I squeaked and jolted forward, the heat in my face increasing tenfold. “Dealt with enough of yer whinin’ for one night.” He bit, soothing his hand over where he slapped. 

I exhaled, burying my face deeper into the bedroll, feeling my hips sway against his hand, begging for more. 

His hands smoothed down my ass, reaching down to squeeze my thighs apart, to better see me, see how wet I already was for him. I hoped he couldn’t see. It was bad enough to have him feel- 

“A-Ah…” my breath hitched, feeling his thumb drag down through my folds. 

He hissed, sliding the pad of his thumb against my clit. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re soakin’,” 

I squirmed against his touch, trying not to moan, unsure if I’d be punished again for it. He pushed his thumb back up, pressing it inside of me, and I felt myself try to part my legs again, to feel more of him, deeper, and almost cried in frustration when I couldn’t. 

I heard him chuckle again behind me. “Aww, I’ll take care of you, darlin’, don’ worry,” he said, moving his thumb out to trace back down to my clit, pushing another finger inside of me in its stead. I muffled my moan into the pillow. 

Arthur continued working at me, circling my clit with those deft, rough fingers of his, slowly pushing in and out of me. I pushed back against him, desperately trying to feel more, but every time he just shoved me right back where I was before, keeping up his torturous pace.

All at once, he pulled away, and I whined. Another slap to my ass as a result, and I let out a muffled groan, feeling my eyes roll back. “What’d I say about whinin’?” He admonished.

I wiggled my hips back, hearing him undo his own pants. Please, please, please. He was all I could think about, my legs desperately trying to separate, to take in more, more, more. 

I almost wept when I felt him nudge against me, coating himself in the wetness he’d created. I pushed back, trying to take him in, knowing if I angled it right he wouldn’t even need to help me. His hand kept my ass steady, soothing circles onto it. “So needy…” he mocked, smoothing his hand down to my hips, to my waist, squeezing there. 

Slowly, god, so slowly, he pushed into me, forcing me open around him. I moaned obscenely, unable to keep it back anymore. He didn’t seem to care this time, letting out a low curse of his own under his breath. Almost there, almost there… and he thrust into me, making me gasp at the sudden movement. 

He pulled back and rammed back in, setting a bruising pace. I pushed back into him with each thrust, the ropes cutting into my thighs with how I fought against them, trying to take in as much of him as possible each time. 

His hands gripped the tops of my thighs and part of my ass like a handle, using me like some kind of toy. “God-damn,” his voice came out staccato, matching his movements, “you’re so fuckin’.. tight.. for me…”

I whimpered, arching back, so lost in pleasure that I truly didn’t care what he did to me. He could have whatever he wanted, as far as I was concerned. 

Drool dribbled out of my mouth, wetting his pillow. I felt limp under him, only kept upright by those rough hands of his.

“Fuck,” he muttered, his movements becoming less regular, more frantic. He swore again before pulling out of me, spending onto my ass and back. 

We stayed like that for a moment or two, catching our breath, before he swiped off my back with something and collapsed next to me. 

I flopped onto my side to face him, my legs still bound together. “Thank you, Arthur,” I whispered, “I’m much warmer now.”

Arthur snorted, snaking his arm around me to pull me to his chest. “My pleasure.”

-

The next morning I awoke alone in his tent, hearing him shuffle around outside. I blinked blearily, reaching up to rub the crust from my eyes. I yawned, laying onto my back, stretching my legs apart.

Wait. Stretching my legs apart?

I glanced down to visually confirm the sensation, finding my legs freed from the rope. I also noticed my pants had been pulled back up to cover me.

I sat up, peeking through the tent flaps. He sat at the fire, his back to me. Was he just letting me sleep comfortably before we left?

Despite the threat of death hanging over my head, I felt myself warm at the thought. This was a much sweeter awakening than I had expected.

Before I could think about escaping, or at least putting off our trip to the hangman, Arthur turned, as if sensing I was awake. "Mornin'," he greeted, his voice soft and low. I shrank a little under his gaze, and whispered a greeting back before creeping out from the tent. 

Once outside, I shivered, pulling his jacket tighter around me. Arthur grunted, beckoning to me. "C'mere,"

I obeyed, walking over to where he sat. He spread his legs, patting the ground between them. I blinked down at him blankly. 

He rolled his eyes and snatched at my hand, pulling me to the ground. I made a small noise of surprise, falling to sit between his legs. His arms and knees caged me in, bringing me back into his chest. This was so strange. 

But not unwelcome.

I snuggled back into him anyway, not about to turn my nose up at the last physical affection I'd ever receive. 

We stared into the fire for who knows how long. I almost didn't breathe, trying not to remind him that we had places to be. 

Arthur squeezed me lightly, propping his chin on my shoulder. "Y'can relax," he sighed, his accent thicker now, in the morning. "'M not bringin' y'in." 

What? My breath hitched, my heart beating faster. Was he serious? I turned in his hold slowly, craning my neck to look back at him. I didn't trust myself to speak.

He met my gaze, his expression unreadable. 

"...Thank you," I said dumbly, breaking eye contact. Well, now what? 

Now, I certainly didn't want him to change his mind.

I turned a bit more in his hold to better face him, feeling his arms adjust around me. I smoothed my hands up his shirt and met his eyes again. He watched me carefully, suspiciously, like he was expecting some kind of attack. 

I moved slowly, not wanting to startle him, inching my face closer to his. I watched his eyes drop to my lips, his own parting in anticipation. I hadn't noticed before, but I seemed to have some sway over this bounty hunter, readily accepting whatever touch I offered him. 

I smiled softly at that, and closed the gap between us, gently pressing my lips to his. Warm. 

He melted the slightest amount, his shoulders sagging, his chest leaning closer to me. He was sweeter, now, in the morning. Softer, more patient. I slipped my hands up behind his neck, scratching lightly at the hair poking out from beneath his hat. He sighed into my mouth, his arms squeezing me closer to him. 

I wasn't sure how long we stayed like that, warm and close. When we broke apart, he cleared his throat, looking past me to not meet my eyes. "You..." his voice scratched out and he cleared his throat again, "Y'can stay with me, if you want. 'Till this whole thing blows over."

I had a sneaking suspicion it would be a long time yet. I nuzzled my nose against his jaw. Staying with him was safer than anything I would try on my own. "Thank you, Arthur."

He hummed. 

a/n: on a scale of 1-10 how terrible is it that i posted this from class NOT WROTE IN CLASS posted from

anyway teehee hope you enjoyed and also hope it wasnt obvious that i kinda had no idea where to go with this teehee im just a girl

(also posted on ao3 under same user)

[blackseafoam]

Marked Part 1

A Bad Batch x Red Dead Redemption crossover AU (with illustrations :)

This is my first time writing fanfiction!

“Omega” felt like too sci-fi of a name for this universe so I changed it to “Meggy”. Everyone else is the same.

If you haven’t played RDR2 don’t worry, I’m not counting on every reader having done so. All you need to know is it’s about a gang of outlaws in 1899 running from trouble, chaos everywhere. The world is set in a kind of “fantasy” United States, where the places and cultures are heavily based on real life, but have different names for the most part. There are also some sci-fi elements to the world that I may or may not implement :) This takes place around the first chapter of RDR2 when the Van Der Linde gang is camped out at Horseshoe Overlook.

Word count: 2045

Rating T

The foothills above Valentine were peaceful, densely forested, and rarely traversed. Above the treetops the snowy peak of Mount Hagen shone like a beacon. Below the hillside the earth plunged into the deep and narrow Dakota River canyon. It was a perfect place to lie low for a while. Plan the next move.

Meggy sat on the back of her brothers’ wagon, the horses had been unhitched and were grazing on the small clearing where they had set up camp. The contentedness of the beasts calmed her. The two massive horses simply snacking away and existing, nothing else on their mind. She wished she could escape worry so easily as the breeze blew her short blonde hair and ruffled her skirt.

Swimming in her own thoughts, she didn’t hear her brother's voice calling to her until he was beside her. “There you are!” Hunter sighed with relief as he approached. “Are you… alright?” His tone dropped quieter. 

“Yeah, just thinking I guess.” Meggy swung her boots ponderously. She held something in her hands, resting on her lap. 

“What’s this?” Hunter came closer, looking at her hands.

Meggy froze. Frozen like she had rehearsed time and time again at the school. Bracing herself physically and mentally to be in trouble, again. She looked down with shame. 

Hunter parted her hands, revealing a tiny rabbit kit, its unweaned eyes still closed. “Where’d you find this?”

Meggy looked up and was confused to see her brother smiling. This was wrong. She should be in trouble for touching dirty animals. 

“Under the wagon.” She muttered, still not convinced she wasn’t about to be reprimanded, especially now that she had just confessed to a second crime: crawling around under a vehicle. 

“We should find its nest, it needs its mother.” Hunter took a step back. Meggy stared at him, her mind was still not catching up to the fact of what was going on. “Pick him up, let’s go look.” Hunter helped her off the wagon so she could safely cup the tiny creature in both of her equally tiny hands. 

“Look for a hole capped with fur, there might be tracks of bare earth in front of it, and cropped grass.” Hunters eyes scanned the forest floor for rabbitsign, Meggy watched him and then mimicked his movements. 

Hunter noticed that Meggy was uncharacteristically quiet as they searched. Did I do something wrong? Having a kid around had been an ongoing adjustment. In the short time she had been with them Meggy had shown a wide range of emotions, profoundly sensitive and resilient at the same time.. But this was the first time he had seen her freeze up like this. 

The kit began to squeak incessantly. Hunter saw a flit of movement near a Boulder. Meggy followed his gaze. A rabbit doe near her burrow. 

As they neared she scurried back underground, Meggy deposited the kit near the hole and they watched it crawl inside.

“Nice work, kid!” He held his hand out for a high five, Meggy flinched, almost imperceptibly, but Hunter noticed. 

In a moment the worry melted off her face and she grinned, slapping his hand with her new energy. “That was fun! Do you think I can learn to track like you someday?” 

“I think you just had your first lesson.” 

-

The next few days were a much needed break from action, for the most part. The gang lived on small game, wild edibles, and what was left of their canned goods. Wrecker showed Meggy how to pick the best firewood. Echo lent her a couple of his books, glad to have a third person around who knew how to read. Crosshair kept his distance, but patiently entertained some of her questions as he cleaned his rifle. Then sent her away after warning her to stay away from their munitions crate. 

Tech finally caved to Meggy’s insistence on riding one of their draft horses. He picked Marauder, the slightly less excitable of the two. The chestnut gelding was certainly not a kid’s horse, but as a retired warhorse, he was desensitized at least. Meggy was surprised at how much thinking went into riding, or maybe that was just because Tech was her teacher. He had a lot to say about riding technique. As he lunged Maurauder with Meggy astride, barely able to straddle the barrel chested beast, he rattled on about gaits, position, neck-reining, posting, side-passing, halting, and so on.

-

Meggy woke on the fourth morning. A wave of bliss washed over her as she sat up in her bedroll. The last few days had truly been the best ever, living off the land with her brothers who she didn’t even know she had until a couple weeks ago. They chose to risk everything to save her. 

She was still coming to terms with what they had sacrificed for her. Couldn’t help but feel a twitch of guilt every time she could sense them censoring their usual crass demeanor in front of her (even though Wrecker had already willingly taught her a few of his favorite curse words). She didn’t want them to change for her, but also didn’t want to be anywhere else in the whole world. Crosshair seemed especially snide about her presence, always keeping his distance and almost never speaking to her. 

She scanned the camp, the fire was still smoldering, the bedrolls still lined around it like a flower. Two of which were empty, one was neatly made, the other looking like a wild animal had escaped from it. 

She got dressed and walked around the wagon, surprised to see Hunter and Echo tacking up the horses. 

“You’re leaving?” 

Hunter looked up first “You’re up early!” He adjusted Havoc’s bridle. “Just getting some supplies in town, we’ll be right back.”

“Can I come? Please?!”

Echo glanced up at her,, and then looked to Hunter “I don’t think it’s a good idea.” He said before going back to picking Marauder’s hoof, holding it on his thigh between his torso and what was left of his right arm.

There was a long silence. Echo could practically smell Hunter’s guilty look, even with the ass end of a horse between them.

“Of course you can come.”Hunter gave in. Echo rolled his eyes. 

Meggy tried to contain her excited squeal.

“Hunter, there are people looking for her, we can't bring her to town.” Echo spat as he stood up.

“Don’t worry, I have an idea.” Hunter smirked.

-

The world was so much bigger than she ever could have imagined. The trees flew by as the trio cantered down the wagon trail toward Valentine. Meggy rode with Hunter on Havoc, his black mane nearly whipping her in the face. The speed was terrifying at first, but Meggy’s fear was quickly replaced by excitement as they got closer to town. 

Her skirt had been replaced by a pair of extra trousers lying around, they didn’t have a belt small enough so a length of rope held them up. Finding a hat that didn’t look ridiculous on her was more challenging but a wool cap ended up being the best fit. 

Now hopefully anyone looking for a “girl kidnapped from the Saint Denis Orphanage” wouldn’t think twice if they saw a boy. 

Echo still didn’t think it would work.

-

The streets were still a sloppy, muddy mess from rain several days ago. Echo frowned as he dismounted and his boots sunk into the filth. They hitched the horses and went about their business, Echo to the gunsmith and Hunter and Meggy to the general store. 

The streets were fairly quiet, an early start to the day meant less eyes around.

Meggy marveled at the abundance of items in the general store as Hunter bartered with the shop owner. She had so many questions, so many items she couldn’t identify, but tried to keep quiet so her boyish illusion would remain uncompromised. Once Hunter had packed the new supplies into his saddlebag they exited the store. 

”G’morning, mister. Got a light?” A tall burly man leaned against the wall just outside the store. Meggy startled a bit, Hunter did not, he heard the lumbering figure approach while they were still inside. 

“Sure.” Hunter fumbled in his pocket for his lighter and handed it to the man. The flame illuminated his face, his eyes rimmed with the cracked tan skin of someone who spent a lot of time outdoors. His battered brown hat and dirty blue jacket bore similar weathering. He took a long drag and handed the lighter back. “Thank you mister.” He blew out the smoke “and little miss.” 

Hunter nodded and began to walk away, then realized what the man had just said… “little miss”. It could be nothing… just a slip of the tongue… there’s no way someone this far out could know who she was. He quickened his pace as they rounded away toward the gunsmith. 

The man took one more drag from his cigarette before putting it out on the ashtray on the windowsill, as he did so he scanned across the street toward another figure sitting in front of the saloon. A shorter, thinner man with black greasy hair and a black hat, two long scars clawed from under his eye to the corners of his jaw. The blue-jacketed man gave a nod just big enough to be seen from the distance between them. 

Inside the gunsmith, Hunter spoke in a low voice from behind Echo “we should go.”  

“I’m not finished yet.” Echo was inspecting the quality of the bullets he was about to purchase. 

“Just get them and let's go.” Hunter murmured.

Echo gave an annoyed look, but reluctantly agreed and they paid the gunsmith. 

As they exited the store Hunter’s paranoia climbed several levels when he saw the stranger was gone, his presence replaced by his still smoldering cigarette. 

The trio hurried to the horses, mounted up, and headed back up the hill into the forest. 

“What the hell was that about?” Echo scolded once they were farther away from town.

“I just got a bad feeling.” Hunter checked over his shoulder for the fifth time in a minute, instinctually resting his hand on his thigh holster. 

-

“But we just got here!” Wrecker complained loudly, the only way he knew how to complain. The gang deliberated around their late morning campfire. 

“I agree, moving camp would be unwise.” Tech fiddled with some type of hardware from the wagon on his lap. “Moving around would only draw more attention from more people.”

Crosshair remained silent, dragging on his first cig of the day. “If you really think they were after Meggy, don’t you think that guy would’ve just taken us then and there while we were in town? Instead of now when we’re back with our full party?”Echo wondered.

“If he’s such a good bounty hunter that he found us all the way across three states, surely he could take on one guy, a gimp, and a child.” Crosshair smirked. 

Echo ignored his antagonistic younger brother.

Hunter sighed. 

“I’m sorry. This is all my fault, isn’t it?” Omega sulked in the grass, hugging her knees at her chin. Flowers she had picked drooping in her hands.

“Her situational comprehension is quite high for someone her age.” Tech observed.

“We’ll be fine. We’re far off the trail, hidden by the trees. I did my best to cover our tracks. Let’s just keep the fire small tonight, we’ll be fine.” Hunter reassured them. 

-

“Four men, two of them are the ones we saw in town earlier.” Arthur focused his binoculars across the canyon. “No wait, five.” 

“What’s the plan?” John shifted. 

“Bounty is for all of them, but the kid is the biggest reward.” 

“And we gotta bring them all back to Saint Denis?”

“Nah, I talked to the sheriff in town, said he can hold them until we can wire someone to collect. For a price.” 

“No way we can take all five of those guys.”

“For once, we agree, Marston.” Arthur noticed one of the taller fellows cleaning his rifle. “Poster said they’re ex-military.”

“What are they doing kidnapping an orphan?”

“I don’t know, but it can't be good." Arthur lowered the binoculars.

Taglist: @dragonrider9905

[inkyquince]

Yknow how you don't even ride big guys? They're just bouncing you by themselves?

Yeah.

[lonesomedotmp3]

favourite boy meets world episodes 1/? - Eric Hollywood Oh man, we're doing this story again? How many times have we done this, Matt, a hundred thousand? How can I learn so much every week and still be so stupid?

[protagonist-art]

i may have problems and issues 🥳

[alienkitty259]

What kind of hybrids I think some of the dol characters would be

Briar: moth, or snake

Bailey: German shepherd or wolf

Remy: bull or horse

Sydney: bunny or goat

Kylar: rat, hamster, or ferret

Whitney: honey badger or Pomeranian

Landry: raccoon

Robin: dear, squirrel, or bird

Wren: fox or weasel

Eden: bear or moose

Avery: jaguar or lion

Harper: spider, centipede, or leucochloridium

Morgan: rat or opossum

Jordan: sheep, dove, or donkey

Alex: australian shepherd

ivory wraith: octopus or snake

[vampyfrnk]

Boy Meets World (1993-2000) ⇀ Christmas in front of the tree

[ikol-art]

Saw a tag game that I liked.. not that I was tagged but I don't actually care, I'm doing it

Rules: make a poll with five of your all time favourite characters and then tag five people to do the same. See which character is everyone’s favourite.

Tagging @wanderingtrickster @charon-cries @gramnel @lokidanger @vvviktor

[gifsofstar]

1.09 || 1.12

[arthursfuckinghat]

It was there, but I could not see.

[deanstryker]

John Winchester - Hunter - My Edit

[starfield-incorrect-quotes]

Starfield + Text Posts 1/?

[porcelana-r0ta]

Oh you're sad that your favorite character is dead???? Well none of my faves are dead bc I have been living in denial (reading fanfic) since 2011. Y'all stay safe tho

[shellhawk]

This was a fun moment in Burbank this weekend...

These men are fine!