#taima drabbles

[grey-coyote]

Alone - Charles Smith x f!Reader drabble

Summary: Finding alone time with Charles was hard, but the two of you made it work.

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, reader is a member of the gang, reader is shorter than Charles, reader is a 'thats us' type of person, reader and Charles both strongly appreciate nature, hunting trip but the actual hunting part is not detailed, lots of wildlife, Micah Bell mentioned briefly, author just had to include Charles throwing Micah to the ground

Word Count: 715

A/N: I'm not sure if this counts as a drabble or if it's just a short oneshot but either way, here you go! I don't see many x reader fics for Charles but I love him too much to not write anything for him. Hope you enjoyyyy :))))

—————

It was a beautiful but humid day in Lemoyne. Birds were chirping, insects were buzzing, and alligators were basking along the riverbanks. You were more than delighted when Charles invited you out for a hunting trip.

The two of you hadn't been finding much time for yourselves lately. The gang started getting extremely busy, Dutch always finding something for Charles or you to do, allowing for little to none of your time to be spent together.

You tacked up your horse, patting her neck softly while Charles mounted Taima. You quickly threw a leg over your own mare and you both began your trip. You were heading to the plains of New Hanover to bring a bison back for camp.

As you rode side by side, you each told each other about your morning. Charles told you an amazing story about an awful conversation he had with Micah, which pleasantly resulted in Charles throwing Micah to the ground.

Soon, you arrived at the plains where the bison roamed. You and Charles brought your horses to a halt, watching the bison for a moment before continuing with the hunt.

The hunt was successful, the two of you would be returning with many resources for camp, but you were sure you'd still hear some type of complaint from someone.

It was mid-afternoon when you decided to stop, neither of you ready to go back to camp just yet. You trotted ahead and lead Charles over to a grove of trees. Dismounting your horses, you allowed them to graze together as you sat under the shade of a large oak tree. Charles sat on a log by the base of the tree and you sat on the ground in front of him, sighing as you leaned your head back against his thick leg. His large hand moved to gently run through your hair, fingers playing with it absentmindedly. You sat there in silence for a bit, just enjoying the company of one another, as you listened to the sounds of the horses pulling up small patches of grass and the birds chirping in the trees around you.

Your eyes were shut as you relaxed. You sighed, hands resting on the grass beneath you, your eyes only coming open when you felt Charles move behind you. He leaned down closer to your level as he raised his free arm to point at a rabbit that hopped out of the brush. "There. Do you see her?" His deep voice whispered next to your ear. The hand in your hair came to a halt but still delicately rested against your head. You nodded, smiling as you watched the rabbit sit and look around. "She's too cute." You whispered back to him and his eyes moved from the rabbit to you, watching the way you admired the animal. After a moment, the rabbit hopped back into the foliage. Charles leaned back and his hand resumed its movements, brushing through your locks once again.

You hummed as you closed your eyes, slowly opening them again just to see two small birds hopping on the ground in front of you. "Look, it's us." You giggled, head turning to look up at Charles. He looked over at the birds and chuckled, "Yeah, that is us." Charles could barely get his sentence out before one of the horses stomped her hoof against the ground, presumably to scare insects off of her leg, and scared the birds away.

"Oh." You stated plainly. Charles laughed, "Sorry, birds." You watched together as they flew away, taking it as a sign that you should head back to camp. The two of you sighed as you stood from your places, walking over to the horses and mounting them once more before you headed back to camp.

Riding alongside each other, you soon returned to camp and to your own separate duties. Before parting ways, Charles leaned down slightly and you planted a soft kiss to his cheek. You both pulled back and smiled, his eyes never leaving you as you turned and left to do whatever task you had been given.

You enjoyed the time that you spent with Charles, even if it was short, but he believed that he enjoyed the time that he spent with you even more.

—————

[pinep-ne]

More of a drabble (deepest apologies) and a little Jovier doodle cause u deserve it (to make up for it) ^_^

AHH!!! First time drawing them...

Anywho. (Lifting the cloche) Your fic, @officialbugdrink...

Placed in Blackwater, pre-canon, where instead of acquaintances, Charles and Arthur's relationship is semi-established.

(i have this fic and more posted on ao3!)

----------

"Charles."

The voice behind him is out of breath. Charles had already known who it was before a word was uttered. Arthur tends to stumble about a lot, not necessarily stomping unless he's particularly angry, but there's an off-kilter sway to it, and it holds an odd little rhythm Charles can recognize yards away.

He turns behind him and sure enough, the man stands before him, clouds of soft white billowing from his nose and mouth, chin tilted down, unconsciously searching for the warmth of his fleece-lined collar. Looking a lot like he has no clue how he got there in the first place.

Charles turns to him fully. The lantern sitting at his feet— its amber light shifting, casting different in angles upon Arthur's unsure expression. He has his hands behind his back, very obviously putting a wall between Charles himself and the culprit of his own bashfulness.

Charles finds it so endearing in this moment he feels he's forgotten how to breathe. He sets his rifle against the tree he's been leaning on.

"Arthur," he says, like a soft sigh. "Why're you up so late?"

Arthur shifts again, turning his head to behind him, very inconspicuously, then back to Charles.

His voice stays hushed like the entire world is listening. "I know you ain't like a whole lotta attention, figured you was guarding tonight, woulda made it a little more... well..." Arthur trails off, averting his gaze again, shoulders dropping. Then, he starts up as he usually does, as if he's been shocked. Opens his mouth, and shuts it; another telling quirk of his.

"I made you somethin'," he settles on.

Before Charles can even process it, Arthur's slowly revealed the item in his hands, unable to hold back a smile. A small, whittled figure. Charles stares blankly at the thing, then back to Arthur, before he recognizes its shape.

It's... a horse. Not much bigger than his palm, carved and smoothened by deft yet obviously intermediate hands. Arthur's steps forward, offering for Charles to take it, like they're exchanging some divine, precious object.

Precious, certainly. "It's Taima," Arthur exclaims, a little less quiet than before.

"Arthur, I've never..."

"I know!" He huffs, "I just wanted to give you somethin' anyway. An' the gangs doing the whole gift thing come morning. Lord knows I'd get shit for the next week, if I'd shown you this then. Save us both the trouble."

Charles runs his thumb along the detail, still fixated on it, feeling like his heart's caught in his throat. It certainly looks like her, now. Stylized slightly, but the head especially, her character portrayed to an impressive extent. He's known about Arthur's sketches. Seeing it translated to a tangible, sentimental thing, and a craft born from love specifically, is a whole other experience he's found himself unprepared for.

It was the smallest detail he'd shared over a few beers; only the vast prairie and Arthur having the ears to hear it. A simple admission, that he's never really had the opportunity to celebrate anything close to Christmas. As a child, it simply wasn't a part of his culture. Now it's merely on account of his lack of community, of permanence, and by that matter, any relation to anyone.

Arthur, still, rambles on all matter-of-factly. As if the gesture isn't completely shattering Charles where he stands, unable to yet say anything. Soon though, he notices, and immediately begins to wind down. Takes it as distaste, maybe. He starts spewing out empty apologies, under the guise of reassurances, doused greatly in insecurity, as he usually does when he can't really make sense of a reaction.

Charles doesn't take the time to decipher it, only grabs Arthur by his collar before the man can tear away anymore pages, catching him in a fleeting kiss. Embodying the desperate need to express something back; so rushed that it's painful. He snakes a hand, occupied with the little figure, beneath Arthur's arm, covering the expanse of his back— embracing.

"Thank you," he manages, muffled somewhere in the fleece of Arthur's coat. The figure is warm in his hand, as are the arms wrapped around him, and the body that sways them both.

[taimatrolls]

"Hopeless"

Adillo looked at the word, written in the sand in front of her, as the waves rolled in and erased it little by little.

Hopeless. She was hopeless. Why was she like this?

Her behavior and feelings and wishes contradicted one another.

She didn't want to be alone, yet she push everyone away. She wanted to feel loved and needed, yet she refused any signs of it. She didn't want to get hurt, so she tried to keep everyone away and hurt herself more.

She didn't want to live but she couldn't die.

"Hopeless."

She wrote the word again in the sand, as if writing it over and over again would give her some kind of answer. It didn't.

Why was it that she was so quick to be reckless, take risks and get into fights, yet such a coward the moment it was about taking the risk to let others close to her? Learn to know her?

The sea erased the word in front of her again and she pulled her knees up under her chin.

Seeing a smile on Adillo's face was rare - but seeing her cry... Was even more so. She simply wouldn't let herself.

But tonight she couldn't stop the tears from coming.

They welled up, filling her eyes so she couldn't see and ran down her cheeks, sobs making their way out of her throat. A silent noise swallowed by the sound of waves.

Hopeless.

[12timetraveler]

Thinking about Charles x reader where the reader has a cough and Charles is low key panicking bc losing of Arthur to TB and he doesn’t want to lose his love to it too 🥺

So I've been thinking about this one for a while. I'm not totally satisfied with this but I wanted to work on something.

It's just a little drabble, nothing exciting. But I hope you enjoy it.

Under cut just to keep things neat

~~~~~~~~~

When you'd first met Charles Smith he'd seemed... Broken. But an old kind of broken, like he'd learned to live with it long ago, patched what he could and carried on. He didn't talk much, always looking over his shoulder. At first you'd thought him cold and intimidating.

He'd moved to your small town in Canada. A nice little mountain town, still getting its feet under it, not quite sure if it was going to stay small or grow with the rest of the world. You hoped it'd stay small, you liked it better that way.

He seemed to avoid you at first, never giving you more than a polite nod when you passed each other in the street, if even that. Still you were fascinated with the handsome stranger. You couldn’t help but want to get to know him.

You started by asking about his horse. A beautiful appaloosa stallion named Falmouth. He explained that he was the colt of his previous horse, Taima, who had died a few years back. With Charles' permission you gave the stallion a peppermint and that was the end of the interaction.

But after that you found yourself talking to him more and more. You'd ask him simple things. How was the hunting today? How long was he tracking that deer? You were the daughter of the local trapper so you knew your way around an animal pelt, working the stall while your father hunted or made garments. He came to your stall often to trade and sell, which gave you more opportunities to try and talk to him.

Slowly Charles began opening up to you. He began telling you things more willingly, seeming to let some of his walls down. The two of you became fast friends, chatting until you were pulled away by another customer or your father needed you to run an errand or something like that.

You quickly learned that he wasn't cold or irritable, he just didn't like mindless chatter, and didn't trust easily. But you'd won him over with your simple yet meaningful conversation, asking about things that interested him like hunting or his horse.

The day he brought you a bouquet of flowers instead of a rabbit pelt and asked you to dinner at the local saloon was the day your friendship took the best turn. After that you two were inseparable. It quickly became known throughout town that you were courting. Then, that you were a couple. Then, that it was only a matter of time before the two of you finally tied the knot. But neither of you were in any rush, happy to take things at your own pace. Your father loved Charles and welcomed him as an apprentice. It was more perfect than you'd ever dreamed.

In quiet moments, usually in the wee hours of the morning when the two of you mistakenly stayed up past midnight talking, he began to tell you of his past. His mother and father, his years alone. The gang he'd come to love, his friends, mostly dead and gone, except for a few lucky ones who found peace.

And in those quiet moments after the two of you made love, he'd tell you about his scars, the physical ones you could trace with your hands, and the internal ones no one knew but him.

In turn, you'd tell him of your past. Losing your mother young to a fire that you'd witnessed, living rough with your father, nursing home through bear attacks and bison gorings until he'd finally settled here with his stall.

The two of you had lived different lives, but you found strength in each other, a kindred soul, a dearest love. You couldn't have been happier.

~~~~~~~

Charles had been on edge for a few days now, and you had no idea why. He was tense, overprotective, and anxious. You could see it in his eyes, like a wild horse ready to spook at the flutter of a leaf or a harsh noise. He was constantly checking in on you, hovering over you like a worried mother hen.

You couldn’t think of anything that had happened recently that may have made him worry. The two of you had just gotten back from a week-long hunting trip. Nothing strange or exciting had happened. The two of you had downed a beautiful bull moose, the hide of which Charles was working on to create a warm bed covering for the two of you. The antlers your father had crafted into a mantle piece for a man in town, who had paid a high price.

The day after your return is when Charles had started hovering. You’d woken up with the sniffles, likely just a light cold after spending a week in the elements. Since then he’d been a nervous wreck. You’d try to confront him about it, but he’d brushed you off.

Today you and he were working the stall together, trading with traveling hunters, selling meat to the locals, taking orders for items that people needed made. Well, that would be what you were doing if Charles weren't making all your customers nervous.

He wouldn't stop coddling you, asking if you were okay, do you need to sit down, do you need to rest? That set all your regular customers off worrying about you too. You were a familiar face in the community, and you were known to be tough and capable. So if your beloved was treating you like glass, something must be very wrong.

Finally you'd had enough after the sheriff came to pick up some cuts of meat to take home for his wife to cook. You'd stepped away to cough into your arm while Charles wrapped the meat. When you looked back, Charles was staring at you, hands frozen mid-way through wrapping up the cuts of venison. The sheriff was looking between the two of you worriedly.

"Everything alright?" The sheriff asked slowly.

"Just fine, Sheriff," you assured him. "Have a nice day. Enjoy that venison."

The sheriff had eye'd you carefully before taking his meat and leaving.

"Charles," you sighed.

"Are you sure you're alright, love?" He asked quietly.

"I am fine. Come here," you said, grabbing his wrist and stepping away from the stall, out of earshot of anyone who might trot by on the road.

“Charles, <em>what</em> is wrong?” you asked once you were alone, knowing he’d never admit something in earshot of others.

“I’m just worried for you,” He murmured.

“Why? I’m fine?”

“You’ve been coughing,” He whispered. “A lot.”

“Yeah. I’ve a little cold. I’ll be fine in a few days.”

“What… what if it’s not a cold?” It was very hard for such a large man to look small, but standing before you he looked tiny.

“What else could it…” You trailed off.

Suddenly it all clicked into place. He’d told you of his friend Arthur who’d died of TB. He’d told you of the horrible coughing that had wracked his dear friend's lungs during those last weeks. A coughing that likely was similar to the harsh coughs that had been wracking your lungs as of late.

“It’s not consumption, Charles,” You whispered, cupping your face in your hands. “It’s just a cold, trust me. I always wind up with a cold at least once every winter. Just some coughing and sneezing for a few days and I’m fine,”

“I know,” He sighed, knocking his forehead against yours. “I know but I just… I can’t… every time I hear you cough I just think about Arthur. And I'm terrified I might lose you, too,"

"I'm not going anywhere," you said firmly, grabbing his hand and settling it over your heart so he could feel the strength of it beating and the even rise and fall of your chest. "I promise you, Charles. I don't plan on leaving you any time soon. This little cold ain't gonna hurt me, and I promise you it's nothing more than that. Just a little chill."

Charles let out a soft sigh or relief after feeling your strong, steady heartbeat and breathing beneath his hand. His palms slid down to your hips, pulling you in for a tight hug.

"It's alright, love," you whispered in his ear. "I'm right here." You allowed Charles to hold you tight against him, letting him just take a minute to assure himself that you were safe.

[whirlybirbs]

𝒜.𝑀.   ;   watering hole   |    a high-society drabble

summary: arthur and the boys have a bit to drink. reposted since the read more was glitching in the ask! anon asked: psst, i know u wrote about drunk!arthur before but. mayhaps, some more?

pairing: arthur morgan/reader (turner placeholder lastname)

a/n: drunk arthur absolutely kills me - i just replayed the lenny mission last night so this is (chef kiss) timing. part of a companion piece to simpler said aloud. this is a drabble for the collection high-society, which follows the events of that fic. 

It's a quiet night.

You're posed by the fire with a needle and thread in your hands. In your lap sits a tumble of blue fabric. The stitch along the shoulder has been ripped, leaving a gaping hole in one of Arthur's favorite flannel shirts — and with all the washing and cooking done for the night, you'd settled in beside Tilly and Abigail intending on finally fixing up the shirt for the outlaw.

Fireside chatter is nothing but a gentle lull; the majority of the camp has settled in for the night, save for Hosea and Lenny, playing cards at the table beyond the fire, and the handful of boys who'd ridden out just after dinner set on gathering some supplies from the General Store.

You're tying a knot in the thread when you hear the clamor of laughter and hooves coming in from the woods — immediately, Tilly spares you an unimpressed look.

"Here comes th' carnival," she sighs, "No wonder it took them so damn long."

"Christ, I can almost smell the whiskey off them from here," chirps Hosea, holding his cards and shaking his head. That muscles a laugh out of you.

Abigail snorts. "This'll be a real show."

Considering the fact it was Charles and Javier and Bill and Arthur... well, of course, it oughta be. Anytime that posse decided on a drink at the local saloon, it almost always turned into a flurry of laughter and one too many bar fights.

Standing, you smooth down your skirts and pull the patterned shall around your shoulders a bit tighter. You fold Arthur's shirt neatly, pop it on the log you'd previously been perched upon, and make your way over to the jovial gaggle of men with a smile.

You aren't surprised to see Arthur hanging off of Charles with Sugarcube hitched to Taima — the blonde outlaw clings to his dear friend as laughter rocks his shoulders and he slips gracelessly off the back of the appaloosa and into the tall grass.

"Whoah!"

The thud sends all four of them into a barrage of laughter; and as legs wobble down from their horses, you wonder how the hell they even made it back to camp. Even Charles, a notorious heavy-weight, sways with a buzz as he hitches Taima and stumbles towards Arthur — he's hellbent on offering a hand, only to crack a wry grin when he spies you nearing.

"Arthur, look who it is."

You have to laugh when a blonde head suddenly pokes up from the grass like a field mouse. The crooked little smirk on his face is terribly charming, and you just shake your head when the outlaw gives a big holler and scrambles upright.

"Y' look a lot like th' girl m' gonna marry —"

He trips over his own two feet when he finally stands — and he laughs it off, blinking down at the gilded steel-toed boots as if they were to blame — but manages to stagger on over your way with a goofy grin on his face.

"I been singin' about y' all night," he slurs, hands moving to his hips, "Did y' hear? All th' way from Rhodes... reckon I was loud enough..."

"Singin'?" you gasp playfully, sparing Charles a look over Arthur's broad shoulders, "Is tha' true?"

Charles manages a pained nod.

"He wouldn't shut up!" comes Bill's bark.

"He really does try," Javier grins, moving to press a chaste kiss to your cheek as he weaves by in friendly gesture. You roll your eyes, patting his arm as he bids goodnight.

God, Hosea was right.

They all smell like whiskey.

"My, my, Arthur Morgan," you croon, watching as he tips his head back and adjusts his gambler's hat as he swaggers near. There's a prideful grin on his face as he wobbles, "It's a shame I missed it."

He nearly giggles then, leaning into Charles as the equally-broad man wraps an arm around the outlaw's shoulder. As the others wander off, it's the two gentle giants left to muscle each other around like brothers.

"Maybe next time, y' can come with us, then."

"An' see me at my worst?" he scoffs, waving his hands and giving a toothy grin, "Can't be havin' that."

"Oh, yes," you agree, shaking your head as Arthur snorts at your tone — it's playful and sweet and oh-so-amused and he finds himself rather enraptured with which your hair disagrees with the humid air. Tumbles of tresses fall around your shoulders and you press an unruly tangle behind your ear, "God forbid I see Mr. Arthur Morgan piss-drunk, howlin' at a piano... I mean, if I tagged along, at least I could play while y'did."

His laugh is distracted. He's busy being moony-eyed, stuck on the soft glow you hold in his heart. It doesn't make much sense but it does to him. You're so damn pretty he swears it's like someone's shoveled a bushel of roses right into his lungs. He forgets how to breathe around you.

"Christ, I love you."

It comes out like an exhale.

Soft enough to remind you how much you love him, and earnest enough that Charles suddenly wonders if he is intruding on this moment.

"Maybe it's best we get you to bed, Arthur..."

"I love you, too, you goon — now c'mon, Charles s'right."

You spare Charles a fond look, fingers moving to touch his free hand gently in thanks — for all of it. Carting Arthur back, keeping an eye on him, being his friend... Being your friend. He squeezes your hand back as Charles' brows quirk at the trading of affections and you can see the gears turning as you slip an arm around Arthur's waist.

"Didja hear that, Charles?" Arthur slurs, "Sh' loves me."

"I thought we went over this —" you laugh, sing-song sweet.

"Yea," a chuckle bubbles up as he staggers along towards his tent, supported by yourself and Charles, "Still like hearin' it, though."

"Once you're in bed," you grunt at the sudden weight being leaned your way, "I'll tell y' it all you'd like."

Safe to say, Charles Smith has never seen a drunk Arthur Morgan be put to bed that fast.

[ajnerdess]

Feisty (Javier x reader and Charles x reader drabble)

I just wrote a little fluffy drabble involving a reader x Javier but also turned into a reader x Charles fluffy drable as well....... ENJOY! TW for Micah being a racist, sexist gross douchebag as usual though! 

You felt warm lips kiss your neck and you reached around to touch your lover’s cheek. Javier. He always woke you in such gentle ways, with soft kisses to your neck, cheek or forehead. His hands would circle your hip or waist as he drew you closer to him. You were thankful for his softness, you weren’t known as the easiest morning person.

“Good morning mi amor” he whispered to you, his unique moustache tickling your skin.

“Mm, good morning Javi.”

“Sleep well hermosa?”

You smiled, turning to face him. “I always do when I sleep by your side.” You ran a hand through his hair, you loved when he wore his hair down, then again, you liked his hair up to. The man always looked good, no matter what.

“Ah come on querida, we gotta get up” he told you.

You gripped him, throwing one leg over his own. “No please, stay with me, it is barely dawn Javi, let’s sleep a while longer.”

He chuckled at your stubbornness. “Mi amor, I can’t, I have to see Dutch about a train robbery.”

You pouted at him, causing him to laugh again. “If you loved me you would stay.”

He rolled his eyes. “Aye, come on hermosa, that isn’t fair. You know I love you. More than you know.”

You trailed a hand down his chest. “Tell me. Tell me how much you love me.”

Javi stroked your cheek as he thought on it. “I love you so much that all this work, all this running, all this fighting. It’s all for you now. I want to buy you a house, a big one, with room for a kid or two. I want to get us a bed, a big bed, the most comfortable bed you have ever slept in. One I can make love to you in every single night. I want to keep you safe from the rest of the world, forever. That’s how much I love you.”

You smiled at his words, lifting your head to kiss him gently on the lips. “I love you too Javi. Please be safe out there. Come back to me in one piece alright?”

He nodded, sitting up as he changed into his clothes, looking fashionable as ever. He leaned down to kiss you on the forehead, his parting goodbye gift every time he left you for a job.

“Te amo querida” he whispered before leaving you to sleep.

Of course, thirty more minutes was all you had before Grimshaw called your name to start working. She was a dragon that woman, always barking orders at everyone for no reason.

As you set to work cleaning the camp members clothes, Micah approached you.

“Well hello there little lady.”

You tried not to gag as he spoke to you. You had experienced a few run-ins with him and you had promised Javier you would try not to get into trouble with him again, at least not when Javi wasn’t there to witness it.

“Good morning Mr Bell” you said, trying to concentrate on your work.

“Call me Micah please” he said, stepping closer to you.

“Is there something you need? Only I have work to do” you said, throwing a shirt into the water with more force than intended.

“Oh hey now, ain’t no need to be so angry sweetheart. What’s got you all riled up? That greaser of yours not pleasing you right darling?” Micah came up behind you to whisper in your ear, making you feel sick at how close he was to you.

“Why don’t you spend a night with a real man. I could make you feel real good darling, I could have you screaming my name in a way a darkie never could. Come on, I know you have had enough of a dirty greaser in-between your legs, just….”

There was a loud cracking noise as your first connected with Micah’s jaw. He stepped back in shock as he cradled his injured face but you weren’t done yet. You charged towards him, but before you could land another blow to his face, a strong arm caught you and held you back.

“Let me go, let me kill that sonofabitch!”

“Easy there hummingbird, he isn’t worth your time, calm down.”

You turned to see Charles holding you back. Ever the sensible one of the group, you took his advice and stopped struggling against him.

“You stay away from me Micah Bell you hear me? You stay away from me and Javier. And if I hear you say a bad word against Javier, Charles, Lenny or Tilly again, I’ll gut you myself” you called after Micah as he went to walk away.

“Crazy bitch, you put a leash on her redskin” Micah shouted back causing you to struggle in Charles’ grip again.

“Hey, it’s ok, ease your storm hummingbird, he’s trying to get under your skin, don’t let him” Charles told you.

When you had calmed down, he let you go and you walked off to the edge of the camp, Charles following behind.

“Are you alright?” he asked you when you finally stopped by the horses, giving Charles’ horse Taima a little pet.

“I just hate how he talks of others. What makes him think he’s any better than you or Javier, or anyone else in this camp? You and Javier are twice the man he is. He’s a selfish bully, I don’t know why Dutch tolerates him.”

Charles nodded. “He is a bully. Which is why you shouldn’t pay him any mind. Though I do appreciate it, you defending my honour like that, and I know the others do to, especially Javier. You are a good woman y/n.”

Taima nudged you affectionately. “Thank you Charles, and thank you, for stopping me from doing worse to Micah. You are right, he’s not worth it.”

Charles smiled at his horse nudging you softly. “You are welcome. Taima likes you, I’ve never seen her so affectionate around anyone but me.”

You stroked the appaloosa’s nose softly, digging out a peppermint for her. “She’s a lovely horse, though I should stop paying her so much attention, my Orion will get jealous, he’s got designs on her I am sure of it.”

Charles nodded. “Agreed. He’s a smart stallion that Orion, got the best taste in the ladies.”

You giggled softly. “That he does. Anyway, I should get back to work, thank you Charles, for stopping me, I’m sure Javier wouldn’t be too pleased if I deprived him the chance to take Micah out himself, or at least watch me do it.”

“You are welcome miss. I don’t think Javier would have been best pleased if I allowed his love to get hurt by Micah. Listen, I know you are more than capable of dealing with him yourself as you’ve shown today, but, you find me if that rat gives you any more trouble, alright?”

You nodded as you made your way back to the other girls. “You have a deal, thank you again Charles, you are a good man, a very good man.”

Charles had never believed such a thing, but when you said it, his heart lit up in such a way, he was inclined to finally start believing it.

[somethinwickedthiswayrides]

Thaaaaaank you so much for writing my poorly explained idea so well I’m so actually ecstatic 💯❤️❤️👌 And I love you so much. I was actually coming back because I had another idea before I saw you wrote my other one. The new one stems from the camp scene when Sean headbutts Kieran. I thought, what if it was because Sean and reader are already together, then they’re suddenly nice to Kieran? Suddenly spending time with him and giving him a new jacket? And after the headbutt reader is PISSED

SO! This was way too much fun to write, Sean is a big weakness of mine, and I love him to bits and peaces. And if you thought the last one was long, this one is EVEN LONGER! It went from headcanon, to drabble, to full on fic. I just hope it’s not all over the place.

I’m also so glad you liked the last one! :D It wasn’t poorly explained at all I’m just dumb at first mornings light.

ENJOY THIS IRISH BASTARD!

Reader is once again implied female, but lack of gender pronouns, so gender neutral???

The chase from down in Blackwater all the way up to Colter and the eventual ride to Horseshoe Overlook had taken it’s toll on everyone.

The death of Jenny and Davey, not knowing if Sean or Mac were alright.

The newest additions of the miserable and mourning Sadie Adler, and the equally miserable O'Driscoll prisoner.

Everyone was exhausted, mourning, and worried.

You especially.

You were used to not knowing where Sean was, sometimes he’d just up and disappear for a couple days before returning to camp with that cheeky little smile on his face as he dropped some of the spoils of wherever he went into the donations box.

The look on his face when he first saw you after his return was worth the worrying and waiting. He always looked at you with such a sense of adoration and joy that he just couldn’t stop the beaming smile that graced his face.

The searing kiss he gave you upon his return always brought you joy in knowing that he was here, he was alive, and he was with you.

So going weeks not knowing if he made it out of Blackwater alive or not was torturous. If he did you just hoped he was smart enough to flee north past Strawberry instead of south into New Austin.

For the first couple weeks, you pretty much just wanted to be left alone, keeping toward the edge of camp, quietly doing your chores and watching as everyone got into their routines and the camp slowly sprung back to life.

Though, there was something that caught your eye, the O'Driscoll prisoner. He seemed a bit whiny, though for that you couldn’t blame him. Not being allowed to sit down, eat, drink, or even bathe? Horrible.

But, the more you watched him, the more you wanted to know what his story was. He didn’t seem like any O'Driscoll you knew, and he claims to hate the man in question.

You were rather quick to join Tilly and Mary-Beth in sneaking the man a bit of food or water. Though you were braver than the other two, always giving him a little more. However you were no fool, you knew that Arthur knew the three of you were giving the man food and water, and he knew that you knew.

He once pulled you aside, in full view of Kieran, acting mad about you giving the man things, you simply crossed your arms and raised a brow.

“What are you trying to do with that poor man? Are you simply enjoying the sick pleasure of watching a man wither away until he dies? Or are you looking to extort some kind of information out of him?” Of course Arthur’s response was the whereabouts of Colm.

“Arthur the body may be able to last for a few weeks without food, but if a body doesn’t get any water put into it, it’ll only last a couple days.” Then with a cheeky grin you dove into detail on starvation torture that left Arthur more than a bit uneasy.

That night you managed to sneak Kieran an entire biscuit and a full cup of cold water. He kept thanking you profusely, even going as far as to call you an angel.

Ever since than you starting doing your chores closer to him, talking with him, telling him about stories or gossip you heard, even going as far as telling him about Sean, and your worries.

Kieran quietly listened to it all.

You were doing your work by Kieran and talking with him when Mary-Beth ran up to you, calling your name.

“Have you heard the news?!” Mary-Beth asked, bouncing in excitement.

“What news?”

“Trelawny came up from Blackwater! Sean’s alive, being held by bounty hunters, but alive!”

“Wha-what?”

“Javier and Charles rode down with him to scout the place out, and Arthur’s going to be joining them in a few days time!”

Relief crashed through you body at such a speed that you didn’t even realize there were tears rolling down the sides of your face until Kieran asked if you were okay and Mary-Beth was wiping them away.

You were just so happy that your Sean was alive, and you hoped that he would be back in your arms soon enough.

The next day you noticed that Kieran was no longer tied to the tree, you asked Dutch what happened and he gave a wry chuckle and told you.

“Castration?! Oh Dutch, that’s too much!” You cried out, though you were smirking, slightly amused with Dutch’s flair for the dramatic, even though you felt a bit bad for the poor man.

Surprisingly, Kieran returned back into the fold with John, Bill and Arthur not too far behind. John proclaimed that Kieran had saved Arthur’s life and he wasn’t worth killing yet.

After finally being allowed to bathe, given a change of cloths, courtesy of the late Davey, and being given something to eat and drink he went up to Dutch and asked what he could do around camp to help.

Dutch gave him a quick run down about how the camp worked and who did what, if he was any good at hunting or fishing he as going to be dealing with Pearson, Medical supplies were to be dropped of with Strauss, extra ammo for weapons he didn’t use were to be placed behind Arthur’s tent or just dropped off with Arthur, any jewelry or shiny object that could be sold were to be turned into the donations box if he didn’t need to keep it, while he would be dealing with you if he had any animal parts or herbs that would be crafted or turned into medicine, and if he had any questions about caring for the horses he would also be dealing with you.

Since he was the most confident with horses and fishing he was dealing mostly with yourself and Pearson.

In the following couple days you spent most of your time with Kieran, he even fully warmed up to you and told you about his past with his parents and how he came to ride with the O'Driscoll’s and in return you shared how you came to be riding with the Van Der Linde’s.

You even once sweet talked Hosea into going with you and Kieran for a little trip out of camp for a nice and relaxing fishing trip for Kieran and herb gathering for you.

Than came the due date, Charles was the first to ride into camp on Taima, simply raising a brow at Kieran before looking at you in question. You explained the situation to him and he nodded and welcomed Kieran into the family.

You suddenly looked at Charles as it clicked in your head what his return meant. Your question dying on your tongue as you heard Sean’s boisterous laugh coming into camp.

You turned and at first only saw Javier atop Boaz, looking outright irritated and miserable, you could only pity him, Trelawny probably talked his ear off the entire trip there and Sean definitely talked the other ear off the whole way back. You could tell the man needed some quiet time.

Than you saw him, he was looking a little worse for wear, sporting a few bruises, a bit thinner, and he was now missing some teeth, but he was there, he was alive, he was okay.

Sean’s voice died in his throat when he caught sight of you, only able to let out a small murmur of your name as he came down from Boaz.

By this time everyone in camp had come toward the entrance to see that Sean was back, but instead of loudly announcing his glorious return he just stared slightly slack jawed at you.

Everyone, and I mean everyone, fully expected the two of you to tackle each other to the ground in your joy of seeing each other again. But you two moved slowly toward each other almost in a trance, you weren’t sure if you were dreaming or not, but you hoped it never ended. As you to met you slowly, if a bit hesitantly, reached up to cup Sean’s face.

Sean just melted into your hands as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“There’s tha’ pretty face I’ve been dyin’ ta see.” Sean muttered as he held you close.

“I’ve missed you too Sean.”

You two pulled each other in for a kiss, it was soft at first, gentle even, like if you went any harder the dream would shatter. That didn’t last though as the kiss got harder and searing as you two put everything in it, all your worries, pain, and love.

So lost were you two in each other that neither of you heard the several clearing of uncomfortable throats, Molly and Mary-Beth’s cooing, the chuckles of Dutch or Hosea, or even Arthur riding into camp and shouting at you two to get a room.

As the two of you finally parted after your lungs were begging for air, you slowly fluttered your eyes open to look into Sean’s blue eyes and saw the full extent of his longing, adoration, and love.

It didn’t take long for the whirlwind that is Sean Macguire to wind up camp into a full party, the alcohol was flowing, people were singing, Dutch and Molly were gracefully dancing, Arthur and Mary-Beth a little less gracefully, even Kieran was having fun, though more on the outskirts of the party.

You once or twice checked in on him, to be sure no one was giving him too hard of a time, though you were always called back by Sean who genuinely wondered where you’d gone off too.

Throughout the party you and Sean teased each other until neither of you could stand it any more and pulled each other into your tent for a little welcome home present all for him.

Once the party died down and the subsequent hangover was gone everyone was right back at it with high morale.

Your time was divided up between your work, time spent with Kieran, and time spent with Sean.

Sean watched you with Kieran more times then he cared to count, he’d heard how attached you had gotten to the man since he’d been gone, and he hated it.

He watched how close you two would sit and talk while doing your chores, how kind you were to him, how you started siding with him on the whole O'Driscoll business.

He tried several things to keep your attentions on him, giving you fierce kisses when he was about to go on guard duty, leaving your neck covered in hickeys from the night before, endless amounts of praise, anything he can think of to get your affection back onto him.

The final nail in his coffin of jealousy was when you had gifted Kieran with a new jacket, custom made with little hidden pockets where he could put lures and horse treats.

Kieran was so overcome with joy that he actually tears up a little and gave you a tight hug, which you returned with a big smile on your face as well.

Sean only saw red after that, his mind running wild that he was losing you to a damned O'Driscoll, that night, after having maybe one too many, he called Kieran over, calling him an O'Driscoll.

Despite his meek approach, and started to say that he wasn’t an O'Driscoll, Sean eyed his new coat, and before Kieran could even finish his sentence Sean’s forehead forcefully came into contact with Kieran’s nose, knocking the poor man to the ground. Whatever Sean was about to say after that got caught in his throat at the sound of your angry voice.

“Sean MacGuire, just what in the hell do you think your doing?!”

Sean stammered at you a bit before just clamming up entirely, watching as you helped Kieran to his feet and checked his bleeding nose, the glare you sent his way was more then enough to get Sean to just look at his feet, and you just sighed and shook you head as you gently lead Kieran away to patch him up.

“Don’t mind him Kieran, Sean’s just acting like a jealous idiot.”

“You picked up on that too, huh?”

“You think this is my first rodeo with this particular clown?” you couldn’t help but laugh at this.

“I’ve had to keep Javier from stabbing him, Charles from beating him to death, Bill from burying him alive, John from stringing him up by his ankles, and so on and so forth. And every time I’d patch him up, give him a kiss, tell him what an idiot he’s being, and that I love him and only him.”

Kieran chuckled a bit and you patched him up and sent him on his way, before heading out to figure out where your Irishman has gone off too.

“I tell ya I’m losin her Arthur!”

“Are ya sure about that?”

“I’ve seen the looks they’ve been givin each other, they’re fallin for each other, I just know it!”

Arthur saw you standing over by Pearson’s wagon as he’s trying to comfort the Irishman. He subtly waved you over while keeping Sean’s attention on him.

“Yeah keep laughin Englishman, I’m only losin the love of my life to an O'Driscoll, no big deal!”

Sean was stunned into silence once again when he felt your arms wrap around his chest and your lips planted onto a weak spot under his jaw.

“I’ll let you take it from here.” Arthur smirked as he got up and left the love birds alone.

“You’re being an idiot again Sean.”

“I know, I know. It’s just tha’ every time I see ya with him, all I can think of is you fallin out of love with me.”

“Sean, you’re not getting rid of me that easy. I love you so much, but just because I want to be friends with a guy doesn’t mean I’ve stopped loving you. I will always love you.”

At this Sean sagged into you, loving the feeling of your arms around him and your lips on his neck.

“I do want you to apologize to Kieran though.”

“Eeeeggghhhh, do I have to?”

“Sean.”

“Fine, fine…I love you.”

“I love you too.”

[blahblahwritings]

Beyond the Clouds.

A/N: I’m not even going to bother addressing the fact I’ve been gone for almost a year, sue me. I’m tired and bitter.

Words: 483

Warnings: None really just a little Drabble about a sad reader to help get over some stress. 

Charles always knew when you were under the weather. Its like his sixth sense, instead of seeing ghosts, he saw the dark clouds hovering around you. Your body felt weighed down, as if you were fighting against strong winds. A fist seemed to clench around your chest, making it difficult to breathe like a thick fog. He was quiet when he first approached you, working close by as you moved around camp washing and cleaning as the day began. You hardly noticed him but his presence made you feel slightly better knowing he was there if you needed him.

When the sun reached its peak behind the blanket of dark clouds, he tugged at your wrist with a reassuring smile and without question you followed him. As you went to take your horse from her post, he instead lifted you onto Taima, climbing on shortly afterwards. He was silent as you both rode out of Horseshoe Overlook at a gentle canter across New Hanover.

Charles didn’t stop until he reached the east grizzlies, hitching Taima to a nearby tree. Taking your hand, he walked with you before settling just under a large tree, shielding you just in time before the heavens opened, rain pouring from the sky. He sat with one leg outstretched, the other bent and pulled you down to sit between, laying your back against his chest. The lack of illumination cast a sombre light on the surroundings, matching your mood.

The smell of rain mixing with the dirt and the wood of trees filled you as did the deafening sound of the monsoon. The warmth that his body provided was more than enough to satisfy you even though the occasional shiver ran through your form. His thick arms were wrapped around your waist as he nuzzled your hair. Drops began to make their way through the tops of the trees and onto you both but you stayed regardless. It was refreshing. Tranquil.

Over an hour later, the rain began to lighten much like the clouds as they parted, the sun kissing the lake and the trees. The world revived around you, birds began to chirp and elk calls could be heard in the distance, the warmth quickly settling the storm inside you. Bright colours contrasted the dull grey of the previous hour. Flowers seemed to shine, the orange flash of a fox darting past the water’s edge crossed your vision and the blue of Charles’ shirt matched beautifully with the small waves. You took a deep breath, the feeling of air in your lungs grounding you and bringing you out of the numb stupor you’d first awoken in. His thumb rubbed against your hip as he brought his lips to your temple. After a moment he spoke;

“Sometimes you have to let it rain and even bask in it before you can see the light and beauty beyond the clouds.”

[failedmy-tbtest]

sad cowboy yeehaw times folks

this was just something on my mind the last few days enjoy, might make a drabble out of this once requests are done <3

Don’t think about Arthur asking Charles to take care of you while you’re in Rains Fall’s tent trying to give him words of comfort

You know deep in your heart this is the last time you’ll see him, but your mind refuses to believe so

You try to hold yourself together until Arthur is out of the Reservation

The first night is the hardest, and you and Charles had an unspoken appreciation for each other

He hears you crying and pulls you closer to him once he thinks you’re asleep

Eventually, you get the news of Arthur’s death

You start to beg him to go back and give him a proper burial, but Taima was already packed for the journey

Once you get back to Beaver Hollow, you offer to split up, but Charles is worried about you so he refuses

You take turns carrying Arthur’s body

You grabbed the flowers that line the grave and Charles carved the headstone

When John found you in Saint Denis you’d disappear about once a week from Beecher’s Hope for a day or two

When you died, Jack made sure to go back North and bury you next to Arthur

[ask-charles-smith]

😳 & jacob @local-anon again hi

(Ah hello again @local-anon hope this is what you wanted :3)

send me an emoji for a short drabble about... 😳: my muse being flustered by your muse.

Charles had gone to visit Jacob with a gift that was maybe or maybe not a large wood carved fish. He’d only made it a bass since that was the only one he was sure of what looked like.

As soon as he’d arrived and climbed off Taima though he was pulled down into a sudden kiss. “Missed you bear.” Jacob had mumbled before pulling him back into a kiss that left them both flustered and hot faced.

[koszmar-zycie]

a drabble for Kennocha and Taima (with cameos)

In Mulgore's sunny mesas, Druidess Kennocha stood speaking with newly made friend Taima; Shaman and fellow Tauren. Distantly and amidst Thunder Bluff's daily bustle, birdlike musical chirping echoed and slowly drew closer, accompanied by the sound of a woman's voice calling to someone they quite clearly wanted to wait.

"Carving is a wonderful pastime." *tweet tweet tweet*

"It's creative, and can be either practical," *tweet tweet tweet*

"or just art." Taima explained. "It's why I always liked making flutes and whistles."

TWEET! TWEET! TWEEEEEEET!

Maliko and Naira streaked past, giggling and tweeting her whistle as Winoa chased after them, exasperated.

-----

Hope this was okay, @stonestridernerd!

[12thperigeeball]

Why have some people posted their trolls without nominations? Can you share your trolls on here without nominating them?

There is an official tag for the event, and people use it when they post art of their trolls in their ball gowns or write drabbles about them in relation to the ball. These are then reblogged into the blog’s art tag.

If you post art/drabbles related to the ball just tag it #12th perigee ball 2017

Please read the guidelines on the blog as it explains most things you need to know.

- Taima

[ajnerdess]

From Afar (Charles x reader fluff)

So I had that idea of a full length story about Charles being in love with the reader but the reader is in a relationship with Javier and then Charles gets closer to them when Javier is in Guarma and then things go from there but I sadly don’t have time to write a full length story so instead I’m probably just going to do a series of oneshots/drabbles that involve either a reader x Charles and the reader x Javier instead.

This is one of them. I had this idea of Charles basically realizing he has feelings for the reader when he sees she’s considerate and kind towards him and ultimately a good person but he knows she’s in love with Javier. So consider this fluff and a little big of angst I guess. Trigger warning for racism (cos you know, Micah is the ultimate douchebag).....

You watched as Charles chopped some wood for fires across from where you sat. Javier had gone out with Bill and Mary-Beth to rob a stagecoach and everyone else in camp was busy. You had wanted to get closer to Charles, with him being one of the newest members of the gang and by far the quietest, you feared he felt less welcomed to the group and you wanted to make him feel more at home.

But Charles was a tough man to decipher. He was quiet, reserved. Kind, but mysterious and you had witnessed enough interactions between him and Uncle to know he didn’t suffer fools, no matter how good their intentions were.

You watched as Micah sauntered over to him, rolling your eyes at the mere appearance of your least favourite member of camp. Wherever Micah was, trouble followed.

“Hey redskin, fetch me something to eat” Micah called to him.

Charles turned, pausing as he stopped chopping wood to look down. “Excuse me?”

Micah went right up to the quiet yet imposing man, clearly not fearing Charles’ strength. 

“I said, fetch me something to eat, redskin.”

You winced, hating that Micah called Charles that. Before you could interfere, Charles simply grabbed Micah by his shoulders and threw him to the ground with a growl.

“Eat that” he told the camp bully.

You couldn’t help but grin as Charles went back to his chores.

You decided to take the plunge and talk to Charles, but before you got to him, you smirked down at Micah.

“Serves you right, maybe now you’ll learn to talk to people with respect.”

Micah got to his feet, sneering at you as he did so.

“We can’t all be darkie lovers y/n. I’ll leave that to you” Micah spat at you.

“The sooner you realise Charles, Javier and Lenny are ten times the men you are Micah the better, now leave Charles alone, he doesn’t want to suffer fools like you” you told Micah as he walked away. 

Walking over to Charles, you waved as you approached. He was already staring at you, probably having heard your entire exchange with Micah. 

“Hello Charles, are you alright?”

He nodded once. “I’m fine miss, are you alright?”

“Oh yes, I’m fine. Sorry about Micah.”

Charles shook his head. “You were right. Man’s a fool. Don’t know what Dutch sees in him.”

You chuckled softly in agreement. “I couldn’t agree more. Listen, I was wondering if you were going hunting today? I’d like to join you on your next trip, I was wondering if you could teach me how to hunt, I want to be more useful around camp. Don’t worry if it’s too much bother, I wouldn’t want to be a burden on you.”

Charles put his hatchet down. “Are you free now?”

You nodded.

“Then let’s go now” he replied, leading the way to your horses. You followed, almost having to run to catch up with his quick strides.

“Are you sure you don’t mind?”

He shrugged as he mounted his horse Taima. “Why would I mind?”

You mounted your own horse, your white Arabian named Orion, named after a star in the sky that was part of your favourite constellation.

“You always hunt solo, I wouldn’t want to bother you.”

He rubbed Taima’s neck gently as he shook his head. “You don’t bother me. Come on, let’s go.”

The ride through to the hunting plains was quiet. Charles was obviously never going to be particularly talkative, but at least he was willing to spend time in your company, which was more than could be said for the rest of his comrades who he seemed to avoid like the plague for most part, safe for a few, Arthur being the main exception.

When you arrived at a particularly open spot Charles signalled for you both to stop. In the distance were deer, grazing peacefully. You sucked in a breath. You had thought of the first thing you could bond with Charles over, but now you almost regretted it, knowing you would have to kill something. Killing murderers and rapists and bad men was one thing, but shooting down an innocent animal, that was something else entirely.

Charles took his bow from his saddlebags and walked to you, handing you the bow and arrow. You shot him a wide-eyed look, you didn’t know how to shoot a bow and arrow.

You could have sworn you saw him smile faintly at your cluelessness. He stood behind you before helping you aim the bow and arrow.

“Just like aiming a gun, strong arm, one leg in-front of the other, take aim, pull the arrow back, breathe out and then shoot” he told you, standing next to you as he touched your elbow to help you aim. His face was close to yours. You sucked in a breath as you pulled the arrow back, aiming at one of the deer and then you let the arrow loose, closing your eyes as you did so.

Your arrow struck the deer and you stared over at your shot in disbelief.

“Good job, come on, let’s take it back to camp” Charles told you with a smile.

As you approached the deer however, you felt your heart jump to your throat. Your shot had hit the deer, but not killed it and now it was laying there, feebly kicking and crying out as it bled out.

You dropped to your knees as your hands reach out to comfort the poor animal. “Oh god no, Charles help, it’s in pain, I ruined it, oh please, help it Charles, please” you cried out as tears fell.

Charles studied you for a moment before taking his knife out and killing the deer swiftly. You lamented the deer’s death as you cried over it for a moment before you realised Charles was staring at you. You quickly wiped your tears away and shook your head.

“I’m sorry, I’m being silly, I know it’s nature but, it’s just sad” you whispered.

“My mother used to say having compassion for the animals we share this world with is a good thing, it separates the good people from the bad. We must take from this world what we need, but acknowledging it is important, and we must keep balance” Charles told you.

You smiled at him. He had rarely spoken that much, and he had never opened up to you about his family or culture.

“Thank you Charles. Thank you. I think you and your mother’s culture is very beautiful, how you see the world is very beautiful.”

He nodded once before lifting the deer and taking it to Taima, securing it on her hide. You both rode back to camp, and when you returned, your lover Javier had returned from his robbery.

Before you went to check on him, you went to Charles as he stepped down from Taima. You touched his arm gently. “Thank you Charles, for today. Sorry I ruined the trip with my terrible aim, and inability to not cry at any slightly sad situation.”

Charles chuckled gently. “It’s fine y/n. I’m glad you joined me.”

Javier called your name.

“Go see if Javier is ok, I’ll see you around camp later” Charles told you.

You nodded, rubbing his arm once more before going to Javier.

Three days later

As you sat at the table in camp reading, you were silently joined by another presence. Charles. He quietly sharpened his knife as you read before you felt compelled to speak.

“How are you keeping Charles?”

He looked up at you. Since your hunting trip, Charles made more of a conscious effort to smile at you each time he saw you. Today was no exception. “I am well miss, what are you reading?”

You blushed. “Oh, it’s silly really, I feel embarrassed about it now.”

He looked at you questioningly.

“Well, it’s a book on native American culture. I wanted to learn more about it.”

Charles looked down at the book before he set his knife down. “You could have just asked me if you wanted to know anything in particular.”

You grinned. “I could have, yes. But see the thing is, I wanted to learn more about your culture so I could have a conversation with you about it. I thought that it must be hard to be the only true native American in the gang. You have nobody to talk to about it, I just, wanted you to have someone to talk to about it, so you didn’t feel alone. Oh goodness, now that i think about it, it probably comes across as pretty patronising. I meant no offence Charles, I just, don’t want you feeling alone here.”

Charles paused before smiling thoughtfully at you. “You are a very kind soul miss, Javier, he’s a lucky man.”

Before you could reply, he stood up and walked away. Leaving you blushing as you thought on his words.

[koszmar-zycie]

📝

Ohhh, okie dokie. 

Well, like you mentioned with the Tauren and Ko, I think moving into just our Tauren would be a lot of fun. You’ve got a wonderful stable of Shu’halo kiddos to work with, and even with only Taima and his niece, they’ve been a lot of fun to get to play with your family of Tauren! So (like I actually ended up sending in a message lol), I was thinking that we could have the festival end, and rather than break the RP, Ko could go home, and the RP would simply stay with the Tauren! Smooth transition, and no need to worry about a start/restart. :) Maliko and Naira are cute as heck, and them playing and having fun would be adorable. I keep thinking about that drabble, and them just blowing off energy while Winoa, Kenn, Naira’a parents/Taima, etc... are like “Wait!” lol

For Xiuying and Kuina? Oh gosh, honestly anything. They’re interactions and chemistry is so perfect and adorable, that I am not even kidding when I say that anything they do makes me ridiculously happy. Buuuut, I would definitely like to explore the familial introduction you’ve mentioned and we’ve talked about. Depending on what we go with, I could even bring in Xiu’s parents too.

And Rowan and Tirithon could make for some just fun and lighthearted stuff. Like you mentioned in yours, talking about druid things, plants and nature, etc... Since you’ve also mentioned her fun and mischievous side, maybe they could get up to no-good, since Tirithon is usually just really chill, but does have a side that likes to be a little bit “pranky”. (which is really just messing around in bird form. typically flying seeds and nuts above friends/acquaintances and dropping them on their heads and such).

Thanks @stonestridernerd! I’m so happy and lucky that you’ve been amazing and worked with me so much. You’re an amazing person, and a fantastic RP buddy. I hope we can keep writing fun and good stories for a long time!

[taimatrolls]

To Collet from Anonymous Sender: Carnation Red, Cyclamen, Geranium, Grass, Orchid, Petunia, Pine, Rose Orange, Blue Violet

Send my muse some flowers to convey your muse’s feelings towards them!

Carnation Red– My Heart Aches for You

Cyclamen– Resignation, Good-bye

Geranium– Stupidity, Folly

Grass– Submission

Orchid– Exotic Beauty, Proud and Glorious Femininity

Petunia– Resentment, Anger

Pine– Pity

Rose Orange– Fascination

Violet Blue– Watchfulness, Faithfulness, I’ll Always Be True

I didn’t feel like drawing so you get a drabble instead. =v=

There is a single knock on the front door, but Collét is not expecting company. She is sitting wrapped up in a soft blanket on the couch, a hot cup of tea smelling of sweet herbs in her hands, eyes focused on two balls of fluff, kittens, who are tumbling around on the floor.

One red ginger cat with a withe stomach and chin and one gray tabby. It had been a couple of days since she fished them out of the river where they were thrown, helpless in a plastic bag, thrown away like trash. Something with no worth.

At first, they had been weak after the cold, but now they were on their feet, while Collét is still burning with fever from the unplanned rescue mission.

There is another knock, and she looks up, wondering who it is who’s not just using the door bell. Her moirail, Mirani, was out for the moment, or she would have answered the door already. She had things to do, something important Collét assumed, since it brought her away from fussing over her being sick for some time.

A silence follows, and Collét considers simply staying where she is, ignoring the knock completely. She doesn’t look her best after all, sweaty, blushed cheeks, no make up and unbrushed hair. She doesn’t like showing herself in a state like this, anything other than perfect.

And she ignores it, for a while; then the curiosity starts getting to her.

Huffing lightly, she puts the cup down on the table. With the blanket around herself she then slowly steps up and makes her way over to the hallway and the door. With how long she waited, they are probably already gone, but maybe she can catch them in the window still?

What she sees looking out the window is however nothing but foot prints in the newly fallen snow. Foot prints and a bouquet of flowers. She stares for a while, leaning her forehead against the cold glass of the window to look a bit closer, her breath creating condensation when it comes in contact.

Flowers..? But who would give her flowers?

Carefully, Collét opens the door, shivering in the cold wind as it bites into the unprotected skin on her face and feet. She bends down and grabs the flowers swiftly, quick to close the door behind her again to get away from this cold as soon as possible.

Such an odd bouquet too… Grass and pine? She suppose that pine might fit the season, with 12th perigee eve coming up but…

She starts moving to the kitchen, where she finds a vase and a knife. The vase she fills with water, the knife she use to cut the ends of the flowers before putting them in the water so they’d more easily be able to drink.

Floras taught her that.

The thought of the greenblood boy she once knew almost had her drop the vase. It happened sometimes, now and again, that he crept up on her mind. Usually it was in times like this, when she did something related to flowers or found herself looking at them. It didn’t happen as often anymore though, and most times it was simply a fading thought, like a forgotten echo. Something she can easily push away to move on with her life.

But this time it doesn’t go away. There is something special about one of the flowers in the mix, the orchids specifically. She remembers once, how he’d speak to her about flower language. She’d roll her eyes at him, she didn’t care. But he was stubborn about this one thing, telling her how the orchid reminded him of her.

“It stands for exotic beauty! Proud and glorious femininity!”

“So the flower is pretty much me then?”

She had giggled at the time, at what a hopeless loser she thought he was who didn’t realize she was merely using him. That she didn’t care. He was just another game, a fun play-thing. But she enjoyed the compliment, and he looked so proud that time, his whole face shining up.

Carefully, Collét carries the vase back to the couch where she put it next to her now cooled tea on the table. She picks up her husktop and with a quick search, she reaches a website about flowers and flower language.

It takes a little bit of time to identify a few of the flowers, she’s no expert, after all, but soon she got them all, and she slowly turns pale as she reads the meanings together.

“My heart aches for you” - Red Carnation. 

“Stupidity, folly” - Geranium

“Submission” - Grass

“Pity” - Pine

“Resentment, anger” - Petunia

“Fascination” - Orange rose

“Watchfulness, faithfulness, I’ll always be true” - Blue Violet

“Resignation, good bye” - Cyclamen

And the orchids, that meant just what she thought, the exact words she remembered Floras speak that one time, many sweeps ago…

Slowly, she puts the husktop to the side, her eyes landing on the flowers again. There is nobody else it can be… She can’t even explain it away as a slump. But how…

Collét curls up in the couch again, closing her eyes as she leans back, she feel a headache slowly build up. Something soft climbs up next to her, and up in her lap. She opens her blanket a bit, letting the kittens inside to curl up on her stomach without even looking up.

“How did you find me?” she whisper.

[taimatrolls]

It is funny how time passing can become such an abstract thing. So abstract it become meaningless, a second feels like an hour, a day like a minute, sometimes like it never ends - or maybe it ends too quickly.

Collét stares into the starry night sky above her. There is an ache in the back of her head, something that feels wet and warm against something cold and also wet. She is laying on her back, in the middle of on of the many forest paths in the area around her hive, in the snow.

Now, for those who knows anything about the reclusive beauty who lives in the forest, not far outside of Cold Harbour, it would be pretty clear this is not normal behavior for her. 

Normally Collét Venena would never lay down in the middle of a path by free will.

But this is not the only thing out of character upon a closer look. 

Her eyes are puffy, there is no make up, no eye shadow nor blue lipstick. Not even the slightest foundation. Her hair is ruffled. She is wearing her jacket above what looks like something one would wear when not expecting company. When sitting in the couch with a hot cup of tea, watching some netflix perhaps. Nothing like the high fashion clothes she usually wear.

All the things normally important for her. But now she doesn’t care.

Time pass as she lay there. She’s feeling cold. Cold and tired. Mostly tired. How long has she been laying there now? Maybe just a minute. Maybe an hour.

And more importantly... 

How many days has it been since her moirail told her she was going to die? She isn’t sure. She just knows it’s been too long. 

Her moirail didn’t come back hive after that last conversation over trollian. She never came back after saying she could die any time in the incoming perigee...

Any time.

A cloud passes by on the sky, slowly. It is silent. The only sound Collét can hear is her own breathing and the icy wind through the trees.

Maybe she’s already gone. Maybe that is why...

The blueblood pulls a shivering breath, lifting an arm to cover her face as it turns into an unattractive grimace of pain. No amount of blinking can get rid of the heavy tears poring out of her eyes, and the jacket’s sleeve hardly silences her sobbing and cries.

She lays there for some time. She’s not sure how long. Time doesn’t matter anymore. She feel like she’s floating. She also feel like she’s drowning. But she doesn’t stay forever. 

Eventually, she pulls herself up and moves back, back hive, hoping... Hoping she will be there.

The only trace of her suffering out under the night sky once she leaves, is the stain of deep blue blood in the compact snow of the road, and a couple of her frozen tears.

All soon to vanish as new snow starts falling from the sky.