#just wanted it to be cool

[agoldengalaxy]

Meant to Be

read on Ao3

words: 2768

Charles Smith lived on his own, in the woods, for almost fifteen years, but when a confrontation with the Pinkerton Detective Agency ends badly, he is helped by two kind, mysterious strangers who offer him safety with their gang.

--

Steadying his breath, Charles narrowed his eyes toward the other man, his mind racing. The man, after chasing him down on horseback, stood upon the hill alone, wearing a bowler hat, a gold pin, and a stupid grin.

“Ah, finally. The man in the woods. I’ve been wanting to meet you for quite some time.” The stranger’s voice was calm and condescending as his hand drifted toward his belt, resting lightly on the hilt of his gun.

“Why?” Charles asked, already wondering which weapon he should have at the ready. “What could you possibly want with me?”

The man seemed delighted by something. “So you do speak! Why, I figured you were more animal than human…”

Charles drew in sharp breath, deciding he should probably reach for the revolver he’d stolen some time ago if things went even more south. “That didn’t answer my question.”

His mouth twitched, and the man held up his hands in a surrender motion. “No harm, no foul.” He reached up to tip his hat. “My name is Edward Williams. I work for the Pinkerton Detective Agency. Some reports came in about a man who lived in the woods; a man who was very good at hunting.”

“So you came to take me down because I need to survive?”

“No, no, nothing like that. Don’t get so defensive with me, sir.” Williams still had that grin on his face as he spoke. “No, in fact, I’m here to offer you a job with the agency. We need more detectives who are…ah…better in the field. Better at hunting. Besides, civilization is becoming quite popular these days. It isn’t necessary for you to live out here.”

Charles paused, thinking this must be some kind of sick prank. He hadn’t seen any humans around these parts for a while - how had a detective gotten out here? And stranger still, why would they offer him a job, the man who had been living in the woods since he was thirteen?

It had to be a trap. And even if it wasn’t, Charles didn’t want to work for the government system that took his parents away from him. His mother, the army. His father, the bottle.

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m not interested. I’m sure you can find someone else that fits your description, Detective Williams.” Charles bowed his head as a sign of respect, however wavering it may have been, and watched as the detective’s mouth twisted a little.

“What a shame,” Williams sighed. “In that case, I hope I do not have to use force to ask you to come with me again.”

Charles eyed the man for a moment. “You said you weren’t here to take me down.” 

“I wasn’t. I was offering you the job, but since you’ve refused, we’ll have to take you in as a suspect instead.” The agent tilted his head. “Lot of complaints ‘round these parts about an Indian roaming around all suspiciously. We have to protect the women and children.” His gaze hardened. “Don’t resist, it will only make things harder for you.” A leaf crunched atop the hill, but it wasn’t Williams. Charles froze, watching five men join Williams atop the hill, all holding guns. They had been there the whole time, just out of sight, and Charles was beginning to wish he had just made a run for it the second the man opened his mouth. Williams smiled, fake pity on his face. “No need for the long face. My friends won’t hurt you, long as you come up here nice and quiet.”

His gaze swept across the six detectives. Surely he’d be able to take them, and he could just get back to his life away from other human beings. Pulling out his revolver as quickly as he could, he dove behind a nearby boulder while Williams yelled at his men to open fire. Bullets rained down and Charles muttered a curse under his breath.

He knew it was a trap.

Taking a deep breath, he listened to the sound of the bullets to tell him when he could peek up and aim. He aimed and shot. One in the chest, one in the head, one clean through the stomach. Three detectives remained, but they knew better than to stay where they were, beginning to close in on the boulder where Charles hid. He had to do this fast. He aimed upward, pulling the trigger while rolling behind the nearest tree. A yell of anguish filled the air and he knew they were just down to two men left. As he fumbled to reload his revolver, he felt cold metal press against his back.

“Drop the gun,” Williams hissed into his ear, and Charles reluctantly did so. “Much better. Now we can get along, hm?”

The other detective smirked, still aiming his own gun directly at Charles. He opened his mouth to say something when suddenly, a shot rang through the air. Blood splattered everywhere from the other detective’s face, and is body dropped to the ground. In his shock, Williams let go of Charles, who turned around to wrestle the man to the ground, kicking his gun away from him. Williams snarled, spitting on Charles’ face.

“You’re nothing.”

Charles, his breath heaving, stood up to aim his gun down. He didn’t hesitate.

Once Williams was nothing more than a corpse, Charles breathed in, looking around wildly for the source of the other bullet. It couldn’t have been the Pinkertons.

In the distance, near the clearing, stood two silhouettes, blotted out by the golden light of the setting sun. He remembered his father once talking about angels, but he never quite believed it. Now, he wondered if it were true.

“Hey, there,” one of the silhouettes called. Both shadows held up their hands to show they no longer wielded guns as they took cautious steps forward. “Are you alright?”

Charles still held his revolver, just in case. These men had saved him, but he’d learned a long time ago that many men would save people specifically for ulterior motives. “Yes, I’m fine,” he answered anyway. It was the truth. He was uninjured, and things had been a whole lot worse a few minutes ago.

Perhaps feeling a little more confident, the two men continued walking until they were just a few feet away, and now Charles could get a better look at them. They looked like normal men, but being able to shoot someone from that distance so accurately told him they weren’t normal. 

The older man, with kind eyes and gray hairs hidden beneath a dark hat, gave Charles a once-over. “I’m glad to hear that, son. Why were the Pinkertons after you?”

“I…don’t know,” he admitted, finding himself less and less intimidated by the second. “He said something about people reporting me to them. But I don’t talk to anyone.” Deep down, he knew the reason why. He knew, because of the looks people would give him just because of the way he looked, because of who his parents were, because of who he was.

“You know how some people are,” the other man, with the sandy hair and well-trimmed beard, mumbled, as if reading his thoughts. “An’ the Pinkertons are bullies.”

Charles nodded, glancing down at the body of Williams. “Seems that way.” He looked back up, clearing his throat. “Thank you…for the help. I should get going. They’re probably gonna be sending more this way, after all that gunfire.”

“Yes, probably,” the older man agreed, but tilted his head slightly. “It’s not safe for you here anymore. Would you…like to come with us?”

“Come with you?” he repeated incredulously, glancing between both men. The younger one had the ghost of a smile on his face, like this wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. “I don’t even know you.”

“My name is Hosea Matthews. This here is Arthur Morgan. We got a camp, few miles north from here, full of lovely folks. You’re welcome to come with us, check things out, and you can leave if you want.”

Charles narrowed his eyes slightly. “Who are you, really?”

“We’re a gang,” Arthur answered plainly, as if it weren’t a big deal. “We ain’t good people, but we’re better than those bastards.” He nodded toward the bodies, and Charles followed his gaze.

His mind told him to run away, to not trust these men. He figured nothing good could come of it. He’d survived this long on his own before, surely he could take more of those agents if they came. Though he knew that was the rational way of thinking, his heart told him to trust them. His heart told him that if not for them, he could be dead by now. 

Maybe it was Hosea’s kind eyes. Maybe it was Arthur’s smirk. He couldn’t tell.

“…Alright. I’ll come with you.”

Charles went toward one of the nearby trees to grab his small satchel. He could hear the two quietly talking amongst themselves.

“You’re never excited when we invite a new feller,” Hosea was saying goodnaturedly, probably not meaning for Charles to hear. Arthur scoffed.

“You seen how he handled them, Hosea. He’s pretty good.”

“So was Micah, and you hate him.”

“Micah’s an idiot. This feller ain’t.”

When Charles returned to them, Hosea straightened up. “Do you have a horse, son?” When he shook his head, Hosea glanced at his companion. “Well, then, you can ride with Arthur. We got plenty of horses at camp you can borrow.” They each lifted a hand to their mouths, whistling, and the sound of galloping hooves grew louder and louder until two horses appeared beside them.

Hosea mounted his, and Arthur gestured. “After you.”

Charles eyed Arthur for a moment. He couldn’t quite get a read on him. He wondered if it was possible that he really was just excited to meet him, to have him come join the gang. Without a word, he climbed on top of the saddle, and Arthur mounted in front of him. They took off.

They rode in silence for a few minutes. Charles watched the passing trees and mountains with the waning sunlight, the sky morphing into different colors with each new moment. Suddenly, Arthur spoke, his gruff voice carried on the wind.

“What’s your name?”

“Charles. Charles Smith.”

“Nice to meet you, Charles Smith.”

Charles couldn’t see his face, but he could hear a slight smile in his voice. He couldn’t help but do the same. “You too.”

***

To say it was all overwhelming would be an understatement.

There were a lot of people in this camp, and all the looks he got when they first arrived were not lost on him. Most of them seemed uneasy when he dismounted, and he found himself pressing a little closer to Arthur as they walked toward a nearby tent. Standing there, watching them approach, was a man with dark hair, smoking a cigarette. He looked straight at Hosea, his eyebrows raised, as if asking a silent question.

“Dutch, this is Charles Smith. He was being pursued by the Pinkertons, but he held his own very well. I told him he could lie low with us for a while,” Hosea explained, probably loud enough for most of the camp to hear. 

The man, clearly the leader of this gang, turned his gaze instead to Charles. His eyes almost seemed hungry as he took him in, but he gave him a kind smile on top of it. “Of course you’re welcome to stay, Mr. Smith. We shoot fellers as need shootin’, save fellers as need savin’, feed fellers who need feedin’, and I assume you need those last two.” Exhaling a puff of smoke, Dutch lifted his gaze toward the other prying eyes. “Everyone! Please make our new friend feel welcome. This here is Charles Smith. He’ll be staying with us for a while.”

There were some quiet murmurs, but eventually everyone went back to what they were doing before. Charles awkwardly bowed his head toward Dutch. “Thank you. For the welcome.”

“Of course. Let us know if you need anything.”

Perhaps able to tell he was overwhelmed, Hosea placed a grounding hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Are you hungry, Charles?”

He blinked, the question suddenly making him aware of how hungry he actually was. “A little.” He hadn’t had time to find food yet. He didn’t think he’d eaten anything since last night.

He let Hosea guide him, saying goodbye to Arthur for the time being, and took in the night while they walked. It was loud, but it still felt calm. Charles hadn’t been around this many people in a long time. At least he knew, for now, he could trust Hosea and Arthur.

They approached a man standing by a large pot, drinking from a small flask. “Mr. Pearson, good evening! Do you have anything left from dinner?” Hosea greeted.

Pearson finished his swig, then glanced between the two, seemingly doing a double take. “Ah, the new guy! Nice to see another new face ‘round here. Sure, made some broth earlier. Hope you like rabbit.” Carefully, the man poured some of the thick liquid into a bowl with a spoon, then handed it over. He beamed at Hosea. “Glad to see you’re talkin’ up my cooking for once, Hosea!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say ‘talking up,”’ he replied, the ghost of a grin on his face, “but when you’re hungry, everything’s good. Come on, Charles.” Charles thanked Pearson for the food and followed Hosea toward one of the picnic tables. “Here you are, son. Would you like to be left alone?”

Charles blinked in surprise. Of all the questions he could have gotten, that was not one he was expecting. Even more surprisingly, the answer was no.  “Um…Would you tell me about everyone here?”

For a moment, Hosea looked taken aback. And then a smile, a real genuine smile appeared on his face as he sat across from him. “Of course.”

***

Dutch was the leader.

Hosea was his partner in crime.

Arthur was their son. Not really, but the three of them began the gang.

John was next, and then the rest of them trickled in.

It would take a long time to remember all of these names, but he was strangely feeling at home here. He’d never been shown such hospitality before. Everyone had at least tried to be nice, except for the guy with blond hair and mustache who’d talked to him condescendingly like Williams. He couldn’t remember his name, but he was the type of guy he would expect to be in a gang. Surprisingly, he was the minority. All of these people were kind.

Charles sat quietly on a spare sleeping bag, looking up at the stars while the nearby campfire crackled. A lot of the camp was asleep now, but he didn’t feel tired yet, despite the day he’d had.

“Thought you would have run away by now.”

Lowering his gaze, Charles took Arthur in, his face illuminated by the fire. He held back a smile, shaking his head. “Not yet. Maybe tomorrow.” He didn’t see that happening.

Arthur smirked, walking toward his tent, which happened to be right next to Charles’ bag. “Just wait ‘til you hear Sean’s terrible singin’. Karen always swears she’ll never come back.”

Charles glanced back up at the stars, letting a few moments pass. Then, “The real reason you wanted me to come with you was because you wanted me to join the gang, right? You want me to help you get money ‘cause you saw how good I shoot?”

He’d be lying if he said it wasn’t a little satisfying that Arthur seemed taken aback. “Uh…we that obvious?”

“Yes. But…it’s okay.” Charles looked back at him. “You’re the one that shot the detective, aren’t you?” When Arthur nodded, he continued.  “You saved my life. So maybe my life is meant to be more than just my own survival. I’ll help you.”

Arthur stared at him. “Wow. You’re pretty amazin’.”

Strangely, his heart skipped a beat. He supposed it was because he wasn’t used to talking to anyone at all, let alone being complimented. “...Thank you.”

A comfortable silence fell between them, and eventually, Arthur lay down in his sleeping bag. Charles continued to watch the fire burn until it was just embers, and then he lay down as well. The sky was full of twinkling stars that seemed to tell him this was where he was meant to be.

It didn’t take him long to fall asleep.

[jekyll-hatepage]

I will forever be obsessing over Laios imaging himself as a wolf (a dangerous animal, and one that is [albeit falsely] associated with loneliness) and Marcille imagining him as a cute dog. It shows how negatively he thinks of himself after his fight with Shuro, and how even if he worries now that he's a nuisance to people/can't fit in, NOBODY PERCEIVES HIM THIS WAY. HE'S JUST A SILLY GUY. MARCILLE ASSOCIATES HIM WITH THE DOG BECAUSE HE'S LOYAL AND LOVEABLE.

[lastoneout]

I really gotta play more minecraft with people who like building stuff. I'm almost done digging out my 64×64 block hole in my minecraft world and when my fiance asked me what I'm gonna build in there when I'm done my brain fucking bluescreened like what do you mean build something?? I dug the hole!! Building is for smart people with good ideas!! I just dig!!

[violet-catsarelife]

Leather jackets are cool okay 🥺

also Dick has unknowingly opened the door to little birds stealing his clothes from him lol. It's a love language 😌

Inspired by ↓↓

that time Discowing wore a leather jacket:

and this precious panel of baby Jay:

[pissed-whizard]

my blog is a gateway drug to cooler and better blogs (my mutuals)

[herd-reject-arts]

So I'm leaving work and something darts in front of me, maybe 10ft away, too fast for me to see what it is. Peek around the tree blocking my path and I see this

Just like... a whole ass hawk. Dude's gotta be about 1.5ft tall. Massive fucking bird. And it's just staring me straight in my soul like this, even as I try to move ahead. It didn't budge. And there's only this path back to my car unless I want to walk on a busy highway. So I have the option of Death By Raptor or Death By Truck.

So I walk in the poison ivy filled patch off the sidewalk. Guy still isn't moving. Still staring me directly in the eyes. And I do this thing when animals are behaving strangely where I'll talk to them, so I'm just like, "Hey, man. I don't know you. You don't know me. This feels really threatening. I'm just trying to get to my car, dude. Can I get some space please? You're a big fucking bird. I see those claws. You could kill me right now, but I'd appreciate if you didn't, ok?"

It didn't move until I was about 2ft away. Again: I'm as far from it as I can be without walking into the street. It clearly wasn't going to budge. I walk past, thing flies up (silent, btw. Scary) and lands on a brick wall a little further ahead

Anyway. Weird guy. Nearly shit my pants when I noticed a bird big enough to carry off a fully grown cat was just... there, staring me in the face, unwilling to move away from me, a human, something it should see as a threat. I watched behind me the whole rest of the way to my car, just in case this bird decided to help me shed this mortal coil. 10/10 experience. Super cool guy.

[chloesimaginationthings]

I’d give anything to see Mangle in the FNAF 2 movie

[dunmeshistash]

While looking for something I found an older Ryoko Kui Blog and there's some proto-dungeon meshi art there. I've seen these around before but didn't know the source!

I'm not sure if the last comic is related but it was in the same post titled ダンジョンRPG的な (Dungeon RPG-Like according to google) from 2012

[juney-blues]

For the last time, the Diamond Authority in Steven Universe isn't a stand-in for actual fascism, it's a vehicle for the queer power fantasy of getting your transphobic grandma to understand.

[astronomicatastrophe]

Noivern and noibat!!

(and woobat)

[thereallycoolmonsterithoughtup]

kabru and mithrun's fun succubus adventure

[sofiaruelle]

❄️☃️The SDV Girlies in their winter garb!☃️❄️

One side how i interpreted their lil avatars and then the other side is just me playing dress up lmao.

“Bois when?” Dunno. 🤷🏽‍♀️ I will if anyone donates screenshots.

[ovenproofowl]

doctor who really put millie gibson in tortoise shell glasses and then told us this 19 year old is now 40

[deadmomjokes]

PSA: tomatoes are not spicy. Tomatoes and tomato products should not be spicy. Pizza sauce isn't inherently spicy. Tomato-based pasta sauce is not spicy. Ketchup is NOT spicy.

If tomatoes are spicy, you have an allergy to tomatoes.

This announcement brought to you by my almost 29-year-old husband learning for the first time in his 2.8 decades of putting food products into his mouth that spaghetti and saucy pizza aren't spicy foods

[forgetful-nerd]

If these two ever met they’d probably annoy the shit out of each other in a sorta older “responsible” sibling vs. younger “wild card” sibling way.

[hyenaa-euphoria]

hope 1/???

more angst!! i am actually building an au around this comic but I’ve never done aus before so like this is new to me!!!