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#the amount of flowers in their hair is how much dutch has loved them
heavenly-iulie · 9 months
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the hostile forces.
annabelle, molly and susan as the protagonists.
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msphoenixx · 3 months
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May I request NY and Texas hc’s 👁️👁️
Ahhh thank you so much for the ask!! And my first one ever I think, I didn’t have my inbox open when I used this account ages ago. Sorry I responded so late, the universe decided I wouldn’t have free time after I made my intro post lol. Anyway, some Texas hcs:
Texas has a MASSIVE amount of religious trauma in addition to everything he went through with his dad. Behind the mask he’s a very insecure person. Poor guy needs a hug and some therapy (tbh all of these guys need therapy).
He secretly loves gardening flowers, but he was never allowed to do it growing up because it was “too feminine” of an activity. He now grows both food and flowers. I think his favorites are bluebonnets (of course), and sunflowers. He only shares his garden with people he’s very close to.
Will literally melt into a puddle around any animal, but especially dogs and reptiles. He has two dogs and a bunch of reptiles as pets. A large room at his personal residence is dedicated to his pets. He has lizards, snakes, and a tortoise.
He 100% knows Spanish, but he’s just a little rusty from lack of use.
He can play the accordion and the guitar, but the guitar is his favorite.
I think that the states would be able to change form (both willingly and unwillingly), but I think most of them have a form that they like using the most. I keep switching on what I think Texas’s default form would look like. I think he’s very tan and has dark brown, almost black hair but sometimes I see him with a lighter brown hair color. He has either wavy or curly hair. He’s around 6’5 and very muscular.
New York:
Rarely goes anywhere without some kind of hat. It doesn’t always have to be a beanie, but he needs something on his head to be comfortable.
Considering he has NYC, he probably has excellent fashion sense. He can probably make regular loungewear look like it belongs on the runway
Will only be vulnerable around Jersey and their kids (huge Yorksey fan lol).
Severe PTSD and anxiety from everything throughout his history. Tbh I think the entire northeast deals with that. They can kind of sense when one of them is having a bad day and they help each other out in their own weird ways.
So many pets. So many. Rats, mice, pigeons, cats, and dogs. Every time he brings another animal home, Jersey just doesn’t have the heart to say no.
Is good friends with the Canadian provinces, especially Ontario and Quebec since they’re the closest.
He knows Dutch, Spanish, Italian, and probably some Chinese. He likes learning new languages.
New York’s default form is kinda of like a nutty brown hair, very pale skin, and he usually has some amount of facial hair. He’s around 5’11 or 6 ft. He isn’t very muscular but has more of a bulky body type? Not sure how to describe it.
I hope this wasn’t too rambly but thank you again for the ask!
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ccscocoapuffs · 3 months
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Bill Williamson NSFW Alphabet
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A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) Bill isn't really big on aftercare, he just likes to pull you close to his chest and rub your head as he kisses you and talks to you about his day.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Bill likes his arms the most, he takes pride in the muscle he has built up from all the hard work he does around the camp. Bill loves his partners hips, he loves to have something to hold onto. If you can talk him into dancing while Dutch and Molly have a record on then he's gonna hold onto you hips and sway with you.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) Bill is a very simple man, he likes to cum deep inside of his partner, given the time period as well this is considered the most normal approach as sex was usually to procreate.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Bill likes to be praised, he would never admit this though. Bill secretly always feels the need for approval and when you praise him it makes the man feel things he can't quite explain.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) Bill doesn't have a drastic amount of experience in his life he's had about 3 or 4 partners. He relies alot on his prior experience when it comes to having sex with you but with practice he's a quick learner.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Bill is a die hard cowgirl kinda guy, he loves for you to ride him so he can grab your hips and set the pace to whatever speed he wants or so he can thrust up into you.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Bill is kinda in the middle, he's serious enough to keep the moment alive but he can for sure make you laugh if he wants to. Especially will his reactions when you kiss him in front of the other men in camp or causally sit in his lap at the fire and softly grind without the others noticing.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Bill has a damn bush to say the least, it's the same color as his regular hair but its very thick. He doesn't see the need to shave down there and won't be convinced other wise. Bill claims its his "Manhood" (John would be willing to make a bet with you that Micah convinced him of this)
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) Bill can be a little awkward at romance, so you'll have to make the first move, Not because he's shy but because he simply isn't that good with words. He does like to sneak you a flower every now and then that he may find while he's out doing who only knows what and if you wanna repay him for his kindness he will gladly head to y'alls tent together for a much deserved reward. On special occasions he likes to take you to the hotels in town for a private night just the two of you.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Bill doesn't really masturbate because he stays busy with orders from Dutch, however he has you so he doesn't really see the need either. If you wanna partake in mutual masturbation though during some of your free time he for sure would be down.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Bill is more on the vanilla side but he has a few softer kinks like, praise, body worship, and on occasion he likes to lay you over his knee and give you a few spanks.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Bill likes the privacy of you tent, however if you two wanna head out to one of the nicer hotels in Valentine or even out in Strawberry he takes advantage of the complete privacy you two have and will keep you up all night long making sure you have one hell of a night together.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) He loves when you walk up to him while he's sitting by the fire and you start to slowly rub up and down his back before you slide into his lap and whisper all the thing dirty things you want him to do to you in his ear. Nothing turns him on quite like that, he also loves showing the others in camp that you are his, whether this be by him coming up to you and slapping your ass or by lifting u up and walking straight to the tent with you.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Bill doesn't like the thought of anybody seeing what's his, so he prefers to keep you all to himself in the bedroom and if any of the other men walk in he may just kill them.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Bill prefers receiving to giving. When you suck Bill's dick he loves to occasionally thrust his his into your mouth and here you gag. As for giving Bill likes to sit you up on the table and get down on his knees before diving in. Bill tends to get a little carried away and can over stim you very easy so you may have to be prepared to push his head away if you get to overstimulated.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Bill likes to keep it on the more medium side of pace, Making sure his thrusts are long and deep. Bill also likes sensuality during sex but he keeps that by making sure to kiss up and down your neck leaving a few hickeys while he ravishes you.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Bill is always down for a quickie, he loves to sneak you away to some places he finds throughout his adventures and fuck you there before anyone comes looking for you two or before someone passes by.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Bill likes risk but he keeps it minimal, as previously mentioned he wants no one else to see what's all his, so he keeps that in mind when he takes risk's, Bill also takes into account the thing's you say yes and no to before any risks are taken.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Bill can usually go for about 2 rounds before he's done, he loves to use one round just for oral and the second round for absolutely railing you.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) shirt answer is no, Toys weren't really big in his time let alone a thing all that much. So no bill doesn't use them, However, if you're going for modern AU Bill then you could probably talk him into using a vibrator while he fucks you.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Bill actually can be quite the tease, He likes to make you blush in front of the other girls, which usually ends up with Mrs. Grimshaw yelling at him to leave you alone and go do something else where,
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) Bill is loud to say the least, he likes to moan and grunt so you know not only he is feeling good but so the other guys on camp know your all his and you both love each other enough to fuck each other so good.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Bill acts like he is a hard-ass and takes no shit, while that's true in some sense he's a big teddy bear deep down especially with you and he has a soft spot for animals.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) Bill is about 5 1/2 inches in length, what he lacks in length he makes up for in girth, he's so thick you're still able to see a tummy bulge when you two fuck.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) High, Bill would never admit it but he longs for you all the time, sometimes he has to go away from camp for a few days on a job and while he's away that yearning gets stronger and stronger leading to hi going straight to you as soon as he gets back home.
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Fairly quick, he likes to snuggle you and talk to you for a minute first before he gets cozy with you under the blankets and falls asleep, however if he's drunk and you two fuck, he goes to bed almost instantly afterwards.
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jornthur · 4 years
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“Unshaken” Chapter 10
Originally posted: June 8, 2020
Arthur Morgan x Reader, Slow-Burn Romance
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Summary: You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.
•••••
The first mile was peaceful, and Arthur looked around as the wagon strolled down a narrow dirt path through the thick forest. The trees were tall, the hilly landscape like the huge waves of the ocean. His heart almost skipped a beat when he recalled those monstrous walls of water when he was on board that ship. Never again was he ever going on another damn boat as long as he lived.
He took in a deep breath, the smell and feel of the fresh forest air overcoming and relaxing his senses. It felt so good to be out in the wild again, he had to admit. He’d actually found himself missing the familiar scent of wilderness, reminding him of all those nights when he’d been out on his own, hunting, camping, whatever the hell he felt like doing.
Arthur almost laughed to himself then.
He was still here … still alive … still breathing … And the rest of the world believed he was dead, including his old friends — or what was left of them. Anger began to simmer deep within his gut at the thought of Dutch, Micah’s betrayal, what they’d done to him and John, the rest of the gang. He squeezed his eyes shut, lifting his hand to tug at the brim of his new hat, trying to find comfort in the new gift. All he could tell himself was that Marston was safe. The boy was an idiot, sure, but when it came to his family and their safety, Arthur knew nothing would stand in John’s way.
A gentle gust of wind hit him, blowing back his hair and cooling what little heat had begun to grow in his cheeks from the anger he felt. Arthur let out a sigh, allowing the cool feeling to seep into his skin. Looking around, he took in the surrounding views. He knew he was somewhere far north of Roanoke Ridge, but he’d never been up this far before Y/N and Austin had taken him in.
The place was beautiful, he thought, taking in the towering trees around them. He’d learned a few interesting terms from Y/N’s herbalist books. He’d been drawn to those bookshelves of hers many times while he’d been cooped up in that cabin, if only to avoid dying from boredom rather than Tuberculosis. Turned out he’d ended up drawn to the knowledge.
There were so many kinds of trees he could now identify— Spruce, Cedars, Pines, Oaks, and very many Sequoia trees. These trees were extremely tall, forming a thick canopy of leaves far overhead, the sunshine piercing through them in rays, hitting the ground with glowing warm light.
The air smelled so fresh as well, and Arthur took in another deep breath, relishing the real cool feeling in his lungs and the fresh and unique smells around him. There was so much plant life growing up here, all kinds of colorful flowers and foliage dotting the thick green grass everywhere. Damn, this area was gorgeous.
Arthur reached up again and stroked the feather on his hat gently, the bristles soft as, well, a feather. He gripped the crown and took the hat off, lowering it to his lap so he could examine it further. The black leather was worn, but genuine, and he could tell it was made from real cowhide, examining the hundreds of skin pores scattered all over. He ran a finger over the brown braided leather tied around the crown of the hat, similar to how his father’s hat had the looped rope. The texture was rough, but also soft, little furs sticking up here and there from years of use.
Then Arthur looked at the feather, and he squinted, his brows drawing down tight as he stroked the thing with the tip of his finger. It was that of a great-horned owl, a primary feather from the wing, the black and gold colored stripes giving away its identity. He wondered, then … why an owl feather? Maybe it was just something her grandfather hadn’t thought much about, but sometimes a certain kind of bird feather in a cowboy’s hat had a meaning behind it.
Thinking back, he recalled Y/N telling him that her grandfather hadn’t lived ‘the best life.’ That he’d been some kind of wanderer. Arthur found himself being curious as to what exactly she had meant. A wanderer?
What kind of life had the old man lived that had her hesitating to tell him the whole story? And what of the feather?
A cough escaped him, and he lifted a had to cover his mouth, clearing his throat then.
Austin looked over at him with curious eyes, “You alright, cowpoke?”
Arthur couldn’t help but give a small smile as he turned his head to face the young man, narrowing his eyes at him, “I’m just fine, little feller, how ’bout yourself?”
The brother narrowed his eyes in return, showing that he was clearly offended by the term Arthur had used on him, “I ain’t ‘little.’”
Arthur laughed, “Why, sure you is, little feller. As long as you call me a cowpoke, I’ll keep callin’ you little. Sound fair?”
Austin grunted, “Not really.” He reached up to scratch at his cheek, then added, “But you kinda do strike me as a cowpoke.”
“Well, you strike me as little, boah,” Arthur said with a grin, his voice a low rough tone as he patted his chest with an open palm, “And it’ll be much worse if you ain’t careful, son.”
Austin grunted, letting out a huff as if he wasn’t amused with Arthur’s teasing in the least.
Several more moments of silence passed, and Arthur gently placed the hat back on his head.
“So she decided to give you our grandfather’s hat, huh?” Austin asked, his voice sounding a bit sour as he cracked the reins again.
Arthur looked over at him, noting the expression the boy had on his face. He didn’t look angry, exactly, but from his eyes Arthur could tell there was some kind of story. “What do you mean?” He asked.
Austin let out a long sigh, “Well, I know she told you it belonged to our grandfather, and he weren’t the best man when he was alive. I never wanted to touch the damn thing after he died.” He lifted his eyes to meet Arthur’s, “Kinda feels weird that you’re wearin��� it, s’all.”
Arthur took that moment as a chance to find out what he could, maybe the brother could give him some of the information he’d been wondering about. “Who was he?”
Austin let out a sarcastic laugh, “I don’t think that’s for me to say. If she didn’t tell you, I don’t think I should be the one to do so.”
Arthur’s natural instinct would’ve been to reach out and choke the bastard to get the information he wanted. It was a feeling he was used to whenever assholes gave him a hard time, but he could respect the brother for looking after his sister.
Another curious thought occurred to him then, and he couldn’t help but ask, “What were y’all doin’ before you found me up on that mountain?”
He could see Austin freeze up at the question, and the young man turned his gaze over to look at him, “You mean that night? We were travelin’ back from Emerald Ranch. Y/N needed to do a trade for some of the supplies we needed for the horses. We have a few contacts scattered here and there for supplies we need that we can’t get up here, and sometimes we need to travel a ways to get them.
“We were supposed to arrive home sometime in the late evening, but we ran into this strange man on the road. He looked odd, short gray dreads, green bandana around his head, weird old clothing. Said his name was William.”
Arthur stilled at that.
“But anyhow,” Austin continued, not noticing that Arthur had suddenly froze, “he was camping out on the side of the road near Moonstone Pond, and he had all these strange plants he seemed to be workin’ with. Of course, it grabbed Y/N’s attention and he invited us over, so she and I stopped to chat with him for a while.” Austin chuckled as he recalled the memory, “What was supposed to be a small chat ended up bein’ a two-hour conversation. I didn’t really listen to what they were sayin’ since I was wrapped up in a book I’ve been readin’. Eventually I had to pull her away since it was gettin’ late.
“When we were just about to leave, she mentioned a special plant that grew over by O’Creagh’s Run, must’ve been somethin’ they were talkin’ about earlier. I was about to say no, but she gave me this look. She has this thing that she does with her eyes, drives me crazy ’cuz I can’t turn her down when she does it.
“So we headed over there, and I stopped the wagon by the small lake so she could explore the area. I just hung out under a tree with my book to pass the time … That’s when we heard the sounds.”
Arthur lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, “Sounds?”
“Gunshots, shoutin’ — We was goin’ to leave the area as quickly as possible, but — well, Y/N could hear the struggles, fighting, a man in pain, and she couldn’t stop herself.” Austin paused, as if he were deep in thought, “We saw someone runnin’ away from the mountain before they disappeared into the trees. I didn’t really get a good look at the man, but it looked like he had dirty, long blonde hair … someone you knew?”
The fury that suddenly welled in Arthur’s chest didn’t surprise him in the least damn bit.
Micah.
That damned rat.
The rat that weaseled his way in and ultimately destroyed the Van Der Linde gang in such a short amount of time.
Twenty goddamned years of loyalty and service to Dutch, and the old fool had decided to listen and believe someone who’d just joined the gang not half a year ago, a man who’d only been out for himself in the end … Just like Dutch …
“Arthur?”
Austin’s voice interrupted Arthur’s thoughts and snapped him back to reality. “Yeah, sorry ’bout that, kid. Just thinkin’.”
Austin seemed to have picked up on Arthur’s mood, no doubt from the gravel Arthur felt in his throat from the emotion that had just been about to take him over. He couldn’t dwell on such things, not right now. What good did it do?
At that moment another thought occurred to him, “You didn’t want Y/N takin’ me in, did you?” He stated it as fact since he knew the answer, but he found himself wanting to hear what Austin’s response would be.
The boy chuckled darkly, looking straight ahead at the narrow dirt trail. “Honestly, when we heard the gunshots, I thought it was going to be a trap, an ambush of some kind. But Y/N … When we reached that mountain and found you laying on that rock, it was like she didn’t care about anythin’ else in the world but you.” He cleared his throat, “The whole time I was worried that she was going to get herself killed, being so close to a stranger. I feared that something terrible would happen, like you would have a knife hidden on you, or a friend of yours would come leaping out of a hiding spot and shoot her dead.” Austin lowered his head, looking down at his lap as if lost in thought, “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I would’ve done had that been the case. Y/N is my whole world right now, and she matters to me more than anythin’ else in my pathetic life.”
Arthur’s eyes softened, almost finding himself sympathizing with the poor boy, but he continued to listen.
“When she insisted on taking you to our cabin, I nearly lost it. Watching her take you in and nurse you back to health every day, I couldn’t help but fear for the worst. I still thought you had something evil planned. Some monsters would go to any length to take advantage and trick people like us to get what they want, even if it’s hurtin’ one of their own.”
The boy was smart, Arthur admitted to himself. There were definitely men like that out there, and he should damn well know.
“But when she mentioned you had Tuberculosis, and I began seeing the signs from you, how truly sick you were — I guess … Well, I guess I noticed how stupid I was bein’ at that point — but I was too proud to admit it.
“After you showed your skills with the gun, I realized you could’ve killed us both whenever you wanted long before that point. The thought was scary, of course, but finally seeing that all you needed was a gun or your bare hands to take us both out and you never did? Well, I guess you can say my stupidity wore off a lil’ bit at that point.”
Arthur grinned, amused with Austin’s confession at how much of an idiot he had been for all the trouble he’d given him.
But could he fully blame Austin? The boy was just looking after his sister, and Arthur couldn’t do nothing but respect him for it. “Don’t hurt yourself too much over it, boah. You’re just lookin’ after her, I understand. In fact,” he leaned back and rolled his shoulders, stretching out the tension in his back, “I kinda like that.”
Austin acknowledged his statement with a small nod and a smile. “I love her, I really do. She’s family, and the most wonderful person I know.” He narrowed his eyes at Arthur and teased, “If you ever hurt her, though, I’ll make sure to shoot you square in the chest, got it?”
Arthur threw back his head and laughed at the threat, “If you say so. But don’t you worry — I ain’t got plans for that.” The fact that the young man had the courage to actually threaten him was truly entertaining, and Arthur couldn’t help but note how much smaller the man actually was compared to him. Arthur had a good six inches on him in height, and a whole lot more muscle, despite the fact that he was still sick. The boy worked hard, but they clearly didn’t eat enough for him to gain a whole lot of meat on his bones. He was about as contrasted as he could be compared to Arthur.
He was grateful Austin had finally swallowed his pride down enough in order to ask him how to hunt. They truly did need it, and he would do his best to teach them. It was the least he could do for him and his sister after everything they’d done for him.
The next several moments were quiet, minus the sound of Lily’s hooves hitting the ground and the tittering of birds high up in the trees.
“So what’s it like livin’ up here?” Arthur asked. “It don’t seem too bad.”
“It ain’t,” Austin replied with a shrug, “It was tough for the first few months, but we managed. Built ourselves a camp, then eventually built ourselves a cabin — then the stables for the horses and other animals.” He cleared his throat, “Of course it’s been hard, what with my lack of huntin’ skills, but Y/N absolutely loves it. She enjoys bein’ surrounded by all the wildlife and plants.”
Arthur found himself suddenly more invested, wanting to know more about Y/N and her passions. “And her garden?”
“She’s been in love with flowers since she was a tiny thing. When we came up here, she brought a few supplies that belonged to our mother, and she got to work on that garden right away.” He let out a small laugh, “What started as a small batch of flowers and herbs turned into a small estate of all kinds of plants. She’s been finding different herbs all over the place and replanting them here for the past three years. Every month it gets larger and larger. I’ll admit, it looks pretty damn beautiful.”
Arthur grinned. “That is does,” he agreed with a nod. It did indeed, Y/N’s garden was a pretty good size, and the colorful shrubbery was a marvel to look at, truthfully. He’d been able to see it out through one of the windows as he’d been recovering on that couch all that time …
“So how are you feeling, Arthur?” Austin asked, breaking the silence.
Arthur turned his head to look at him, “What?”
Austin lifted a hand to point at his chest, “Your TB, you were coughing a bit earlier, just checking to see how you’re feelin’ now?”
Arthur rubbed his own palm over his chest, “I’m just fine, you’re sister’s got some healin’ magic goin’ on with those herbs of hers.”
The boy’s laugh was loud and sharp, “Y/N has a talent with nature, that’s for damn sure. I swear she may be Mother Nature herself.”
The two men’s laughter echoed through the trees as they travelled further down the trail. A squirrel skittered across the ground, and Arthur watched it disappear into the thick foliage on the other side.
More time passed, until finally they reached a small clearing. Arthur lifted his finger to point over to a small grassy area. “That’s a good spot to start.”
Austin pulled back the reins until Lily stopped, bringing the wagon to a halt. He looked over to where he was pointing and lifted a brow, “Really? Doesn’t seem like the kind of spot wildlife would be, it’s too open.”
Arthur gave him a bewildered look. “Wildlife don’t always need to be in a particular spot in order for you to track ’em, Austin.” He said, his drawl annoyed, letting the young man know through his tone that what Austin had stated was completely idiotic. He got up and climbed down out of the wagon, walking towards the small patch, “This area’s got plenty of plant-life, tellin’ you it’s a good spot to start pickin’ up trails.” He narrowed his eyes as he placed his hands on his belt, turning his head as he took in the surrounding forest. “It’s perfect for grazin’, plenty of cover ’round here if they need it.”
Austin crawled out of the wagon, grabbing his carbine repeater. It was smart — even though they didn’t need it for killing today, it was better to be safe than get caught off-guard by any wild predators. He walked over to Arthur, and Arthur began walking slowly across the grass, looking down to examine the dirt. “Now whatchu wanna do is look for any signs, footprints, fur, dung, broken branches and whatnot.” He took several steps forward, crouching low so he could see better.
Austin did the same, crouching to help look around for anything they could pick up. “So look for those things, got it.” He said, crawling low to the ground.
“You also wanna be quiet as possible, don’t wanna draw any attention towards yourself or you’ll scare off anythin’ nearby. Same thing can be said about your gun.” Arthur looked over his shoulder at him, “You ever use a bow before, boah?”
Austin shook his head, “Only a couple times when I was young. We got one up by the cabin stored in the shed. Another thing that belonged to our grandfather, but I never touched the damned thing.”
Arthur huffed, amused at the other man’s stubborn nature. “It’s a useful weapon, kid, it can be used to make quiet kills so you don’t frighten off any wildlife in the near vicinity.”
The young man just let out a grunt, “I ain’t touchin’ that thing.”
Arthur just shrugged at the boy’s pride, “Up to you, but I highly suggest you start learnin’ how to use it.”
Over the next several minutes, they examined the grounds, both of them crawling quietly through the tall grass.
“Arthur?”
Austin’s whispered voice reached Arthur’s ear, and he turned to see him waving his arm, gesturing for him to come over. He made his way over, and once he was beside Austin the kid pointed at a few small hoof prints in the soil. He smiled, “Good job there, feller, now see if you can follow them.”
The boy nodded and did just that. Over the next half hour, Arthur continued to help him by pointing out other signs, such as crushed grass, a couple broken branches, and bits of fur here and there. The last sign was several strange marks on one of the trees twenty yards away. ‘Tree rubs,’ of course.
“This way,” Arthur whispered, leading them quietly through a few tall bushes.
Finally they reached a new wide-open clearing. This one had a small pond directly in the center, and in the distance, Arthur spotted the white-tailed buck grazing on some of the lush green grass at its feet.
For a moment, Arthur froze, recalling all the dreams he’d been having. The buck looked so similar to the one in his dreams; the size, the coat, the large antlers it displayed. Every single detail was precise.
Austin sat beside him, and Arthur felt rather than heard the boy lifting his gun.
At that moment, a doe and two young fawns appeared from behind one of the large boulders, the three of them approaching the large buck.
Arthur grabbed the barrel of the gun before Austin could aim the thing.
He watched as the doe came over to the buck with the two young close behind her, and the creatures nuzzled each other lovingly.
It was a sight that Arthur found himself lost in, and he couldn’t help but think of his own family, what was, what could have been, what might have been … If he’d only chosen a different life for himself …
What the hell was wrong with him?
“What the hell are you doin’, Arthur?”
Austin’s voice echoed his thoughts, snapping him back out from his mind. Arthur cleared his throat, “Let’s leave ’em be, kid.” He was going to leave it at that, but then he added “We promised Y/N, remember? Just trackin’.”
Austin gave him a strange look, but after a couple of moments he seemed to decide not to argue with him. “So what now?”
Arthur gazed at the family of deer a few seconds longer, then he flicked his gaze over to Austin, “I don’t know. I reckon we should head on back,” he turned to face the younger man, “You suppose your ready to travel back?”
Again with that strange look, what the hell was Austin seeing? Had Arthur suddenly grown his own pair of antlers? What was running through that boy’s mind?
Finally, he answered, “I guess so, I think I learned plenty today.” They both stood quietly and started heading back towards the wagon. Austin tucked the gun strap over his shoulder, reaching up to scratch at his cheek again. “I’ll admit that was actually quite fun. Thanks, Arthur. You’re a pretty great tracker, in all honesty.”
The compliment felt strange, Arthur thought, especially coming from Austin of all people, but he supposed he would take it. The boy was grateful, having learned something that would be incredibly useful for him and his sister when it came to their survival. “It ain’t no cake walk after this, boah. We still got a long way to go, trackin’ requires a lot of patience — an eagle’s eye.”
Austin nodded, giving him a small smile, “I suppose that makes sense. A lot of patience — kinda like fishin’?”
Arthur let out a genuine laugh at that, “I guess you’re right.”
2 Weeks Later …
Birds tittered high up in the trees, singing there own unique songs as the sun’s rays bore down on your back. The weather was absolutely gorgeous today, you thought to yourself as you knelt in your garden. You were in a cheery mood, humming softly as you pruned several of the herbs and flowers. You looked over your shoulder to see that Arthur was still relaxing on the porch swing, working on something in his journal. Writing or drawing? You had no clue, but you were going to leave him to his privacy.
The last two weeks had been quite the ride.
Arthur’s body was improving, his skin and muscles filling back out with each passing week. Even though his blood still showed signs of leftover Tuberculosis bacteria, it was clear his body was slowly but successfully fighting it off. You continued to give him treatments every other day, and he still took daily doses of honey per your instructions.
But despite the fact his body was getting better physically, you knew the herbs and medication still had a large impact on both his physical and mental state, so you still urged him to be cautious with his actions so that he didn’t overwork himself too much. It was crucial for him to stay in a calm state so his mind and body wouldn’t somehow become unstable.
He’d been sleeping a lot better. Every night you woke up to check on him, and Arthur was sleeping peacefully every time. Truly, it made you happy to see him so relaxed now. Ever since you’d sung that lullaby for him so many nights ago, that nightmare of his hadn’t seemed to come back. Though you still wondered who this John was, no matter how much it bothered you, you didn’t want to risk bringing anymore pain to Arthur.
For the past several days Arthur had been on his feet helping out around the cabin, whether it was doing chores or hunting with Austin, he managed to keep himself busy throughout the day. He was regaining the muscle and healthy tone he’d no doubt once had before, his face, eyes, and cheeks becoming full once more, and he was beginning to gain a tan from being out in the sun so much now.
Ever since you had given it to him, not once had Arthur ever taken off his new hat. Unless he was asleep or bathing, the thing rarely ever left his head.
It really did look good on him.
You had to admit, the man was absolutely stunning. Whenever he worked or did any kind of physical labor, you couldn’t help but watch those muscles in his body sometimes, how they moved and flexed beneath his skin, noting the healthy shine of sweat on his face, his neck, his forearms, and God help you, but sometimes he went shirtless when he worked, and it was all you could do not to throw yourself at the man. Push him to the ground and take him there and then —
What on earth was wrong with you? You shook your head hard, trying to perish those dirty thoughts from your mind. You weren’t exactly a plucked flower, but you’d read enough romance novels to give yourself plenty of naughty imagination.
Letting out a sigh, you plucked another dead leaf. There were so many scars across his body, old and new, but one stuck out to you the most. You recalled the scar you’d seen on Arthur’s chest, just above his left pectoral. There was no doubt it was a gunshot wound, the scar tissue around it having sunken down into the ruined flesh. It had long since healed, but the skin there was still pink, still soft, so it hadn’t been too long since it was inflicted on him. Again you wondered, what had happened to him? Who’d shot him? Why? The thoughts of possibility raced through your head, but going off his nature and what you’d seen of him thus far, you couldn’t come to a conclusion or even imagine why anyone would want to hurt that man.
Reaching out to crush another dead leaf, you smiled to yourself.
Arthur was strong … indeed he was a fighter.
You’d slowly been getting more and more comfortable with the thought of Arthur going out with Austin on his hunting trips, allowing them to start traveling out as far as they needed to go. Food was getting low, and finally you’d told the two boys that they could start hunting for game if they wished. You were proud of them both, for keeping to their word and staying safe.
You could tell your brother was improving with his skills thanks to Arthur, just last week they had managed to bring back a boar, and Arthur had told you that your brother had managed to track it down on his own, but Austin had admitted that he’d missed the first few shots, and Arthur had to kill the boar himself. The two had slowly been getting along, you’d noticed. It was more than refreshing to see.
Arthur had been helping Austin out with his aim several times over the last two weeks, the two of them practicing down by the stream in the late evenings.
You would stay back and watch to observe every chance you got. Honestly, you secretly wished it was you Arthur was teaching. To show you how to handle a gun, how to aim it, how to shoot. You had no idea how to use a weapon, so you picked up whatever you could from the two of them.
Your brother had recently started working with your grandfather’s bow, which confused you at first, since he’d always insisted on using his own carbine repeater. But then he’d explained to you that Arthur had told him it was a stealthy hunting tactic in order to capture more game.
Finally, you’d understood. Winter was slowly approaching, and it was more than important to learn how to use a much quieter weapon, especially when wildlife was so much more scarce during the cold parts of the year.
But — despite countless hours of practice — Austin hadn’t managed to get the hang of it, which worried you somewhat. Poor man, each time he tried aiming an arrow, the thing would wobble in his grip and the shot itself ended up with the arrow landing on the ground only a few feet away. No matter how Arthur instructed him, it seemed hopeless. At one point Austin had nearly thrown the thing into the stream, shouting something about how the bow wasn’t working properly. But Arthur had tested the thing for himself, and of course it worked flawlessly when he’d used it, the arrow finding its mark perfectly on one of the trees he’d been aiming for..
You’d found yourself strangely drawn to the weapon, you had to admit, though you weren’t quite sure why.
The bow itself was very beautiful. The long round limbs were made of dark maple wood, painted with some kind of glossy coating to protect the wood from wear and tear. The handle was wrapped in finely engraved black leather strips. There were several more curly engravings that ran along the weapon itself, and two small metal owl heads were placed at each end, the beaks holding the tight silver bowstring.
A part of you really wanted to try it out for yourself at some point.
The two men were planning on going on another hunting trip today, so it was going to be another quiet evening alone at the cabin for you. Strangely enough, even though you finally felt comfortable with them both being gone, you still weren’t quite used to it.
“How you doin’ there, Y/N?”
Arthur’s deep voice nearly had you jumping out of your skin. You leapt to your feet and turned around to face him. “Arthur!” Your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat, “I didn’t hear you comin’ over.”
Grinning, he let out a soft chuckle, “Sorry bout that, honey, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You’re fine,” you said, waving off his apology.
He looked over your shoulder at the plants behind you, “So what’re you doin’?”
You turned to look down at the herbs you’d been working on, “Oh, well I was just pruning some of the plants.” At his questioning look you added, “Sometimes some of the leaves or stems die and I need to take them off, otherwise it could cause disease and the nutrients inside the plants are wasted trying to feed what’s no longer alive. When I get rid of the dead pieces it allows them to focus on keeping the rest of the plant strong and healthy.”
Arthur nodded, though you had the feeling he was only pretending to understand what you were talking about in order to make you feel better, going by the confused look and his face; his eyes narrowed, his mouth her in a small grimace. “So these herbs,” he cleared his throat, “them what you used to treat my TB with?”
His curiosity nearly had you taken aback. Honestly, you hadn’t really expected him to care enough to ask such a question. “Yes,” you said, your voice soft as you looked up at him, “I — I gather pieces from them from time to time and make several elixirs and medications from their properties.” You pointed to one of the plants, “That right there is Ginger, it’s used as an antioxidant, which can help take care of some of the negative effects caused by most bacterias.” You pointed to several others, giving the names and explaining what each of them did.
By the time you’d named a few more, you looked back at Arthur, and his brows were drawn down tight, his hand rubbing at the side of his temple as if he’d gotten a headache. You nearly laughed, “I’m sorry, Arthur, I tend to get carried away sometimes.”
Arthur lifted a brow as if he were actually amused, “I can tell you really enjoy your work,” he said, a wide grin stretching those lips of his, “It’s really amazin’. You should be proud, honey.”
You lowered your eyes, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks, “Thank you, Arthur. I honestly wouldn’t know as much as I did without my mother’s journal. She taught me so much.” You voice nearly hitched, and you blinked several times in order to keep any tears from welling.
Arthur reached out and laid a warm hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you, “I’m sure she’d be real proud of you, Y/N.”
You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded in answer.
Several moments passed, and Arthur spoke again, “Austin mentioned to me that you ran into a man named William?”
Your head jerked up that that, surprised. “He told you about that?”
Arthur nodded, “The night you saved me from that mountain, told me you met an herbalist the same day. Quite a character.”
Your brows lifted, “You know him?”
“Yeah. Met him a few times, a long while ago, before — Well, before all that shit went down.”
“Language, Arthur!”
You both laughed, and he tipped his hat to you.
He was truly adorable, you thought as you smiled at him. You lifted your gaze to look at the hat. “So, how you liking your new hat, Arthur?”
Your question had him letting out a laugh as he ran his fingers across the leather brim. “Keep’s the sun outta my eyes, like you said,” he teased. His eyes softened then, those beautiful sapphire-emeralds seeming to stare directly into your soul. “Thank you, Y/N.”
His grateful smile alone nearly overwhelmed you, and you quickly spoke your next words before you found your idiot-self getting lost in his gaze. “I’m glad you like it. My grandmother made that hat for our grandfather when they were both young. It was … meant to stand for something … but he didn’t do it justice with the life he led. It needs to be worn by a good man. Someone like you.”
Arthur’s expression seemed to change at that moment, and you couldn’t help but notice the softness in his eyes suddenly grow hard.
•••••
A good man.
It was all Arthur could do not to lose himself then and there. To take the hat off and give it back to her immediately, to leave and never turn back even once. Dammit, he didn’t deserve to be here. He didn’t deserve the treatments he’d been given, all the hospitality, the food and shelter that Y/N and Austin had so generously given.
He wasn’t a good man, and he damn well knew it.
It was the second time she’d called him that, and he nearly had to bite his tongue. But what could he possibly say to her at that moment? That he wasn’t the man she truly thought he was? That he’d been a liar? A thief? A ruthless killer?
An outlaw …
Arthur did his best not to squeeze his eyes shut from the sudden pain that welled in his chest. What the hell was wrong with him? There was nothing he could say or do to get past the ache in his heart from those words.
For once, he was extremely grateful to hear that sill boy’s scratchy voice calling out to both of them.
Y/N smiled, looking over Arthur’s shoulder, “Austin, how are ya?”
Austin came jogging over, his face and clothes covered in dust and dirt from whatever work he’d been doing earlier. He stopped a few feet in front of them, “I’m doin’ just fine, sis,” he panted, nodding at Y/N and meeting Arthur’s gaze. “Hey, Arthur, so you ready for our next huntin’ trip?” The young man asked him, a naive yet excited smile spread across his face. Over the past two weeks he’d learned to enjoy the trips, getting to learn something new from them each and every time.
Arthur shrugged with a small chuckle, “That depends, are you?” He nodded at the dirt covering the boy.
Austin scratched his cheek, “Yeah, sorry about that, sir.” He brushed off the dirt from his clothes, “It ain’t nothin’, Just noticed the two of you over here and I wanted to see if you were prepared to head out.”
Over the last several days, Austin had grown the strange and somewhat annoying habit of calling him sir, and Arthur didn’t really know why. Was he trying to show some sort of respect toward him? Maybe after acting like such a dumbass over the past month, he might’ve thought addressing Arthur in that way would gain him redemption? It felt odd, and Arthur really wished he wouldn’t call him that, but he’d go along with it if it made the younger man feel better.
“Well, Austin,” Arthur said, clearing his throat, “Ready when you are, then.”
“Dandy! I found an interestin’ new spot I think we should go check out a ways up north, the wagon’s already loaded up and ready to go.” Austin stated, pointing over toward the stables where the coach stood, with Lily already attached to it. The boy was quick, Arthur thought. He must’ve been busy getting everything prepared while he and Y/N had been working on their own tasks.
Arthur lowered his eyes. On one hand he didn’t want to leave Y/N so abruptly, but on the other he needed to escape the tension that had suddenly risen in his gut from her words. A good man … how could he follow up that line with any further conversation? It hadn’t angered him, but he was tired of hearing it — from anyone. He gave a single nod, “Let’s head out, then.”
As Austin nodded and headed off toward the wagon, Arthur looked back over his shoulder to meet Y/N’s gaze, “We’ll be back soon, honey.” He said softly, winking and giving her a small grin. He hoped she wasn’t disappointed, but he needed to get out of there. Clear his head.
But she didn’t look upset. No, instead her eyes absolutely glowed as she gave him another one of her beautiful smiles. “Y’all stay safe, Arthur.” After a slight moment of hesitation, she returned his wink, “You keep Austin safe now.”
Her teasing helped the tension ease away somewhat, and he let out a chuckle, “Don’t you worry, I’ll keep him in line.”
With that, he headed over to join Austin on the wagon.
•••••
“So where we headed?” Arthur asked as Austin steered Lily up the narrow trail through the tall sequoia trees. He and the younger man waved farewell to Y/N with her returning the gesture as they disappeared around a large rock.
Austin lowered his hand, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. He unfolded it and handed it to Arthur, “There’s this new place I wanna check out, passed by it a few days ago while ridin’ Butch. Seemed interestin’.”
Arthur took the map and held it up, looking over a simple drawing of directions. They appeared to lead up north towards the larger mountains, further into the forest.
The kid pointed at a thick scribble he’d made on the paper, “That area right there, it’s right at the foot of the mountains between the trees. A small area of tall grass. I saw a family of elk there a couple times. If we can spot them again, I’m sure we can bring back enough food to last us for a month.”
What he said was true, one elk could last them quite a while. If they managed to kill one, they’d be set for weeks. Arthur folded the map back up and handed it back, “You seem to know what you’re doin’,” He said with a light laugh.
Austin shook his head, “Only a little, sir, it’s why I thought it best for you to come along on this one.”
Arthur shrugged, “You’ll get the hang of it soon enough, kid,” He reached out and patted the man’s shoulder. “I’ll look after ya.”
The younger man narrowed his eyes, “I don’t need no hand-holdin’, Arthur.”
Arthur’s heart suddenly skipped at those words, his smile dropping from his face as his eyes grew flat.
Those words … when had he last heard those exact words —
A memory flashed through his mind … Lenny …
He flinched, lowering his head as he reached up to tug down the brim of his hat, hiding his expression from the brother. The pain was almost unbearable … coming back to bit him in the ass once more.
The loss of his friends, of his family — it had only been a couple months, and the agony still felt just as sharp, as though it had only been yesterday when his life had completely fallen apart.
… What life, though?
Arthur nearly wanted to laugh at himself from the thought.
His family had meant everything to him, the bond they’d shared more real than anything else in the world.
But Arthur would be lying to himself if he’d thought what they had was any kind of real life. He’d spent the majority of his chasing a dream for a life he weren’t even sure about, along with the rest of the gang who’d followed over the years. He’d failed all of them. Hosea, Lenny, Kieran, Sean, Grimshaw, Mac, Davey, Jenny … they’d all had their own lives snatched away from them so abruptly.
They’d never had the chance for the life they’d so desperately fought for.
And the others … Charles, Sadie, Tilly, Mary-Beth, Uncle … Karen, Swanson, Trelawny … Where were they now?
The wonder of their whereabouts prodded his mind like a hot poker every single day. Even though he tried so hard to move on in hopes that they would do the same and lead normal lives, it was extremely difficult to do so. He only hoped they were all safe. They all deserved so much more after all the shit they went through in the gang.
And Jack, Abigail, John …
Arthur lifted his eyes to stare up at the sky, the sun’s bright rays peeking through the small clouds.
‘You’re my brother.’
Those words echoed through his mind, and he allowed himself a sad smile. He thought back to Sister Calderon, the words she’d spoken echoing in his head. ‘Take a gamble that love exists.’
Arthur wasn’t the religious type, but deep inside his heart he prayed for the sake of John and his family, for their safety, so that they may go on to live the lives they’d damn well earned.
John Marston. The man was a goddamn fool, but he loved Abigail and Jack, and Arthur knew he’d do anything to protect them. 
They were safe.
He knew, deep down in his heart something told him. They were out there.
Time passed by quickly, and finally the wagon stopped. Arthur felt the seat lift as Austin hopped out, and he shook himself out of his thoughts, realizing that they’d arrived at the foot of the mountains. Arthur looked around, taking in the small grassy clearing. He raised a hand to lift the brim of his hat, looking up at the base of the mountain, a tall cliff that encircled half of the area. The other half was enclosed by the thick forest of trees that towered over them, their green and multi-colored coming-autumn leaves providing cool shade to the tiny meadow.
“We’re finally here,” Austin said cheerfully as he rolled his shoulders, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. He walked behind the wagon to grab his carbine repeater.
Arthur examined the area closely. Indeed, it was a great area for wildlife of all kinds. Plenty of grass, soft ground, perfect temperature, and shelter. He narrowed his eyes, noting a small cave opening at the base of the cliff. It was too small for a bear or cougar, so it was probably just a family of deer, he thought. Still, they had to be cautious. It was an unexplored area. He looked over his shoulder as Austin approached him from behind and stared at the gun he held, “You need to get a handle on that bow soon, kid.” He said teasingly.
“I know, I know, and I ain’t a kid!” Austin snapped, “I’ve been tryin’ but I’m just hopeless with the damn thing!”
Arthur nearly laughed at the blush that crept into Austin’s cheeks as he looked away, unable to meet Arthur’s gaze.
He really had been trying his best, Arthur did notice, but the bow was turning out to be the boy’s natural enemy. Either he weren’t a good teacher, or the bow was truly hopeless for him. Where was Charles when he needed him, Arthur thought almost sadly.
Arthur shook his head at the thought, then threw his hand up in the general direction. “Lead the way.”
Austin gave a small but nervous nod, stepping forward and leading them both across the grass towards the cliff. They crept slowly and quietly, staying low to the tall grass to avoid being spotted by any of the nearby wildlife. There were small sounds here and there as Austin examined the grounds, but they were mostly from squirrels or small rabbits. Since Austin only had the gun with him, they weren’t going to risk scaring off any larger game by shooting and possibly missing smaller targets. Arthur had taught him to be careful with such things.
Gradually they got further and further away from the wagon, and Austin led Arthur towards the foot of the cliff. “There,” the younger man whispered, pointing toward some hoof-prints that had been left behind in the ground. They created a trail, and the two men followed it, making their way around the cliff. Finally, the tracks stopped at the base of some large rocks that formed a small ramp towards the top of the cliff. Austin began to climb, and Arthur followed behind him, as quiet as they could possibly be.
Suddenly a small rock bounced down from atop the cliff, landing in the small meadow below, and Arthur looked up, spotting a small glimpse of large antlers just over the peak. “There’s one,” Austin whispered next to him, having seen them as well.
“Alright, get your gun ready,” Arthur whispered back as they approached the top. His heart was racing, but he forced himself to calm down as they reached the top of the plateau. The elevated area was covered in thick foliage, and the two men hid behind the thick shrubbery as they made their way over to a large rock that provided solid cover.
Austin slowly and quietly cocked the gun, peering over at the large creature nibbling on some of the grass by the cliff-edge. It was a huge bull elk, appearing to weigh at least seven hundred and twenty-five pounds. The creature was definitely large, larger than any Arthur had seen in a long while. The creature was magnificent, he thought. The meat on its bones could definitely keep them fed for weeks.
He looked over at Austin, noticing that the boy was breathing hard, creating too much noise. “Calm yourself,” Arthur muttered, “Elk can hear very well, take a deep breath and let it out slow.”
Austin did as he was told, closing his eyes as he did so. “Alright,” he whispered, then he slowly began scooting forward. He crouched carefully, propping the barrel of the gun on the tip of the boulder.
A small loose rock was knocked off as the weapon was adjusted, landing with a small crack on the hard ground. The elk snatched its head up, its ears perked in their direction. It looked over toward their spot, and before Arthur could stop what happened next, Austin quickly stood from behind cover and fired the repeater.
It was so quick, the kid having not given himself the proper aiming stance, and the recoil shot him backwards, the bullet missing the elk as it pinged off the one of the rocks several feet away. The creature jumped, bounding off quickly in the opposite direction. Austin lifted his gun and fired a few more rounds as it fled down the cliff.
“What the hell are you doin’?!” Arthur grabbed the man’s firing arm as the elk disappeared into the forest below, Lily whinnying and rearing in the wagon as the creature sped by her.
The boy grunted from the small pain of his fall, “I’m sorry, sir,” he grimaced as he stood slowly, “I thought — I thought it heard us, I wanted to try and get it before it ran away —”
“Of course it heard us, you goddamn fool!” Arthur snapped, anger boiling in his blood. “But it didn’t see us! Now the whole damn forest knows we’re here.”
Austin lowered his head, no doubt feeling ashamed from his actions.
“All you had to do was stay still,” Arthur growled, snatching the firearm from Austin’s grip. “Start headin’ down to the wagon. Ain’t no hope of gettin’ anything out here now.”
The boy didn’t say anything, only giving a small nod as he turned away and headed towards the rocks. It was more than clear the man knew he’d made a mistake, and Arthur was more than upset with him. The next few moments were quiet as they started making their way down the way they’d came.
As soon as they reached the meadow, Arthur halted in his tracks, placing a hand to Austin’s chest to stop him, “Hold on.”
Austin looked at him questioningly, “What is it, sir?”
Arthur didn’t answer as he skimmed his gaze over the tall grass. Something wasn’t right. It was way too damn quiet …
Just then, a massive wolf lunged out of the shrubs from behind, jumping up and catching Arthur on his left shoulder, its sharp teeth sinking deep as its claws caught his flesh.
“Arthur!” Austin yelled.
Arthur shouted in pain as the force knocked him forward, his hat falling away as the heavy weight of the wolf bore down on his body. The gun was knocked out of his hands, and he hit the ground hard. His heart began to beat fast as sharp snarling noises pierced his ears, sharp claws digging deep into his shoulders, Arthur cried out as his flesh was torn open, and he began to struggle, trying his best to flip onto his back. He wasn’t going out without a fight.
The massive gray wolf was unbelievably strong, but Arthur managed to grip the wolf’s head, crushing its skull between his hands as hard as he could until the wolf let go, jumping off his body momentarily. He looked over to see the gun lying on the ground just a couple feet away.
Arthur flipped himself over just before the beast made another attempt and leapt back onto him, its teeth bared for another bite as it aimed for his throat. But Arthur barely managed to block its target by taking hold of the wolf’s neck with a single hand, using the other to try and reach for the gun. Blood was seeping from his neck and shoulders, and his heartbeat began rushing throughout his entire body as the sharp teeth gnashed and snapped just inches away from his face, getting closer as his strength grew weaker.
He let out a loud guttural sound and gathered all the strength he had left, finally managing to grip the gun and swing it through the air, using the butt of the handle to knock the large beast off of him. He staggered to his feet, aiming quickly as he fired the weapon, hitting the wolf square in the chest just as it rushed towards him again. With a loud whine the thing fell to the ground dead, and Arthur’s head whipped around as he heard more growling.
Two more wolves had crept out of the bushes and had cornered Austin near the cliff. The kid looked absolutely terrified as the beasts stalked toward him, his body having frozen entirely.
“Austin!” Damn him if he was going to let another person die on his watch.
Arthur’s gaze began to spin as he aimed at the wolves. He cocked the weapon, but he was seeing damn near triple of everything around him. He was losing blood fast, and he nearly collapsed as he began to feel light-headed. With no other choice, he let out a hard huff, and with everything he had left he lurched across the grass and lunged forward, pushing Austin aside just in time right before one of the the wolves ran towards them.
The heavy creature tackled Arthur’s body hard, causing him to collapse again as the weapon was knocked out of his hands once more. The butt of the cocked gun hit the ground and went off, a sharp whine echoing through the trees as the stray bullet miraculously hit the other wolf. It ran off, leaving a heavy trail of blood in its wake.
As the last wolf held Arthur to the ground, he thought this was going to be it. He had nothing left, he felt absolutely nothing, his mind having completely turned off as his own blood seeped out onto the ground beneath him, his weak limbs refusing to move as his vision began to dim.
Suddenly, another gunshot went off, and he felt a heavy weight fall onto his body. It was soon pushed off, but he found himself unable to care as his heartbeat started drumming between his ears.
Arthur looked up at the sky, his breathing barely audible as he struggled to take in any air. Everything had happened so damn fast … He could hear someone calling out his name. A man’s voice, but who? A blurry figure appeared over him as a dark red haze began to creep in around his vision, or was that just his imagination? Something hard pressed into his shoulder, and the pain shot through him like a lightning bolt.
Flashes began going through his mind, each one followed by his slowing heartbeats.
Two crosses, placed side by side …
… A large buck, lifting its head as it gazed off into the distance …
… The sun, setting just over the horizon.
Arthur thought of watching the sunrise … the last time he’d had this ethereal feeling … back wherever he’d been. A sunrise, now a sunset …
He felt his body getting lifted … was he finally leaving?
Just before he closed his eyes, a long howl echoed through his head.
•••••
— To Be Continued
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protectduffy · 5 years
Text
Yandere Types (M)
warning!! this contains violence, controlling/manipulation, stalker themes, nsfw, etc. so don’t read if you’re not comfortable! this is the male edition of some yandere headcanons for the camp boahs
Arthur
- obsession type
- this is probably more intense than what both of you expected it to turn into
- it began with him accompanying you whenever you wanted to leave camp, but then he would get really antsy if he realises you’ve gone somewhere without him
- where did you go? Why didn’t you bring him? Who are you with?
- Arthur follows you, sometimes doing it very subtly and other times just falling into step behind you
- he asks a lot of questions
- high morality Arthur is sweeter, always being careful not to upset you with his questions
- takes pictures of you, though, and keeps them under his mattress
- casually breathes in your scent when you walk past
- more likely to stay out of sight when he’s following you
- if he’s low morality, Arthur is super obsessive, constantly walking with you with one hand on your body somewhere
- he snarls if another man so much as looks at you, antagonising them
- often gets into fights for your sake
- likes to pin your hands down or push you up against things
Dutch
- monopoly type
- the most obsessive
- he’s very manipulative, you’ve seen him at work before but never had you expected him to turn his act on you
- says things like, “I don’t like that boy, I want you to stop seeing him”, “Why are you going there when you can be here with me, darling?”, “Look at me when I’m talking, little girl/boy”
- even when you’re not aware of it, Dutch is there, always watching with that dark look in his eyes
- he slowly starts pushing any friends out of your life who aren’t approved by him, forcing you to depend on him
- he might even “dispose” of some of the people he views as competition, telling you they’ve left you and cradling you when you get upset
- if he absolutely cannot be with you, Dutch makes Micah watch you, but if Micah oversteps his boundaries, he has to brace himself for Pure Rage Dutch
- likes you to wear something of his so that other people know you’re claimed, including one of his rings, his hat, or his shirt
Hosea
- possessive-paranoid type
- the quickest to escalate
- similar to Arthur, Hosea is very much obsessed with you but on another level
- he has to have you all to himself
- unlike the other similar types, he is quite paranoid about losing you and it makes him more frantic
- he always has to have you close and scolds you if you try to leave
- won’t tolerate competition, he doesn’t even argue he just removes you from other people (be it by dragging you away or prompting you to leave, even feigning feeling sick so you’ll feel bad for him)
- is a bit insecure, but also a very god actor so he’s great at covering this up
- can switch his moods in an instant
- you aren’t allowed to go anywhere without him, and he always has to be touching you
Charles
- punishment-dominance type
- possibly the closest to John’s training type, but much more forceful and corrective
- Charles gives you firm reminders if you slip up, if you ignore him, and so on
- he always has to be in control of you, making sure he knows where you are and what you’re doing
- you have to make eye contact with him or he grasps your chin to make sure you look at him
- he isn’t satisfied with just touching you because he wants you to touch him, too, so he makes excuses as if he’s hurt or he’ll simply tell you what he wants
- if you disobey him, you’re in for a long night
- he isn’t above restraining you or spanking, and he won’t let you go until you apologise numerous times
- Charles is usually cool tempered, but the line is when another person touches you, at which point he’ll snap and attack to “defend” you
Javier
- worship type
- he’s so obsessed with you and any amount of attention you give him, even if brief
- worships you and will do anything you ask of him, no matter how ridiculous or dangerous the task is, sometimes without you even having to ask him
- least dangerous type, he wouldn’t hurt you even if it meant risking his progress
- instead, he focuses on luring you in with sweet words in his native tongue and purring compliments, reminding you how much he needs and loves you, what you do to him
- doesn’t really care if other people talk to you but if they don’t treat you with respect, Javier bristles and becomes aggressive to defend your honour
- would die for you in a hot second
- “I need you, don’t go, I love you!”
John
- training type
- it starts with gentle suggestions, trying to correct your behaviour to where he’s happier with how you feel about him
- sometimes snaps at you but then instantly softens, it’s like a switch is flicked between anger and gentleness
- John will always coo at you and embrace you after he’s snapped at you, gently stroking your hair and reassuring you he didn’t mean it
- he begins to get more forceful, prompting you to behave
- “Say you love me, y/n, come on, say it!”
- works on a reward basis, like training a dog
- “Good girl/boy! That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
- makes you think that it’s normal, the way he treats you, because he’s forcing you to adopt the loving behaviour towards him without you even realising his manipulation until it’s too late and you’re stuck in his web of deceit
- if someone else is viewed as competition in his eyes, John only threatens then when you’re not around so that he doesn’t ruin his progress with you
Sean
- restraints type
- he just wants to be with you! forever and ever and ever and ever
- can’t stand to be without you for just one second
- sometimes hides his fear of losing you behind humour and affection
- he grows in intensity very very quickly
- Sean will pick you up or drag you somewhere if you’re not obeying him, or if you try to leave him
- wants to be inseparable, why won’t you stay with him?
- he will tie your hands and/or feet so you can’t leave, or just so he can tease you and gaze upon you
- prefers to hold you down with his hands and body, but also enjoys a good length of rope
- also uses scarves for a bit of extra fun
Lenny
- dependence type
- knows how to get to your soft spot
- he insists he needs you and will beg if he has to so you won’t leave him
- enjoys faking being sick or getting himself scraped up so you will nurse him back to health
- he just bathes in your attention
- lots of pet names and sweet compliments, almost sickly sweet, and gets a bit whiny if you ignore him
- “I need you, can’t you see?! I can’t do this without you! It would ruin me!”
- tries to get sympathy from you or make you feel bad in any way so that you’ll consider staying
- if you do leave, he’ll go absolutely insane and probably go on a rampage just to get you back whatever the cost may be
Kieran
- wrong idea type
- Kieran is so into you from the moment he sets eyes upon you
- he’s smitten and convinced that you’re into him, unfortunately assuming that there’s something there where there actually isn’t
- watches you a lot
- if you smile at him, he gets all bashful and believes that you’re sending him signals
- if you touch him, oh, he loses his mind! 
- he has the bad habit of getting the wrong idea in the most innocent of acts
- drools if you wear anything that shows even a little bit of skin and will probably think that you’re wearing it just for him
- protective, too, he scowls and gets huffy if other men show you attention but he probably won’t act on it
- even if you flatly tell him you’re not interested, he thinks you’re playing a game or just lying for the sake of it
Eagle Flies
- deceptive type
- everything is behind the scenes with Eagle Flies, and he’s very good at what he does
- what he does, exactly, is manipulate and deceive you in subtle ways in order to gain your affections
- it starts off small, like loosing your horse so you’ll go on a walk alone with him to find it, and memorising your schedule for his benefit
- however, if you don’t respond soon enough for him, he becomes impatient
- you’re his to love, can’t you see that?
- he’ll definitely challenge anyone who he sees as a threat to his love for you
- he starts working harder to force you to care for him by making sure you can’t leave
- one afternoon when you were suggesting heading back to your home after a visit to Eagle Flies on his lands, he was quick to do anything he could to stop you
- he had one of his friends come crashing from the shrubbery claiming that there were dangerous soldiers nearby, which inevitably meant you had to stay with Eagle Flies to stay safe
- once, when you really insisted on having to get back, he disappeared into the forest and came back unbeknown to you with a fistful of yellow flowers
- mixed with water and offered as a drink to you, it doesn’t take long for the headache and weariness that washes over you
- feigning being surprised at your sudden “cold”, Eagle Flies makes sure to keep you on his bed of soft furs
- he’s so good at deceiving you that eventually you start to succumb to his caring nature and he relaxes, but he’s always just a little on edge, ready to find some new way to keep you all to himself
622 notes · View notes
the-mill-kat · 4 years
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“Unshaken” Chapter 10
This one took a lot out of me, but here it is finally! Please leave a comment if you enjoyed, they really fuel this story, they put a smile on my face every single day! Thank you so much for your love and support for Unshaken. I love you all, partners! 🐺❤️🦌 Thank you for 2,000+ followers!
“Unshaken” Masterlist, “Unshaken” AO3
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Summary: You save a mysterious man who is dying on a mountain. Finding out he has Tuberculosis, you use your knowledge and skills with herbs and natural remedies to save him from death and help nurse him back to health. As he slowly starts to recover, you can’t help but wonder: Who is this man? Why had you found him the way that you did, beaten and ill? Only time, patience … and perhaps love … will tell.
The first mile was peaceful, and Arthur looked around as the wagon strolled down a narrow dirt path through the thick forest. The trees were tall, the hilly landscape like the huge waves of the ocean. His heart almost skipped a beat when he recalled those monstrous walls of water when he was on board that ship. Never again was he ever going on another damn boat as long as he lived.
He took in a deep breath, the smell and feel of the fresh forest air overcoming and relaxing his senses. It felt so good to be out in the wild again, he had to admit. He’d actually found himself missing the familiar scent of wilderness, reminding him of all those nights when he’d been out on his own, hunting, camping, whatever the hell he felt like doing.
Arthur almost laughed to himself then.
He was still here … still alive … still breathing … And the rest of the world believed he was dead, including his old friends — or what was left of them. Anger began to simmer deep within his gut at the thought of Dutch, Micah’s betrayal, what they’d done to him and John, the rest of the gang. He squeezed his eyes shut, lifting his hand to tug at the brim of his new hat, trying to find comfort in the new gift. All he could tell himself was that Marston was safe. The boy was an idiot, sure, but when it came to his family and their safety, Arthur knew nothing would stand in John’s way.
A gentle gust of wind hit him, blowing back his hair and cooling what little heat had begun to grow in his cheeks from the anger he felt. Arthur let out a sigh, allowing the cool feeling to seep into his skin. Looking around, he took in the surrounding views. He knew he was somewhere far north of Roanoke Ridge, but he’d never been up this far before Y/N and Austin had taken him in.
The place was beautiful, he thought, taking in the towering trees around them. He’d learned a few interesting terms from Y/N’s herbalist books. He’d been drawn to those bookshelves of hers many times while he’d been cooped up in that cabin, if only to avoid dying from boredom rather than Tuberculosis. Turned out he’d ended up drawn to the knowledge.
There were so many kinds of trees he could now identify— Spruce, Cedars, Pines, Oaks, and very many Sequoia trees. These trees were extremely tall, forming a thick canopy of leaves far overhead, the sunshine piercing through them in rays, hitting the ground with glowing warm light.
The air smelled so fresh as well, and Arthur took in another deep breath, relishing the real cool feeling in his lungs and the fresh and unique smells around him. There was so much plant life growing up here, all kinds of colorful flowers and foliage dotting the thick green grass everywhere. Damn, this area was gorgeous.
Arthur reached up again and stroked the feather on his hat gently, the bristles soft as, well, a feather. He gripped the crown and took the hat off, lowering it to his lap so he could examine it further. The black leather was worn, but genuine, and he could tell it was made from real cowhide, examining the hundreds of skin pores scattered all over. He ran a finger over the brown braided leather tied around the crown of the hat, similar to how his father’s hat had the looped rope. The texture was rough, but also soft, little furs sticking up here and there from years of use.
Then Arthur looked at the feather, and he squinted, his brows drawing down tight as he stroked the thing with the tip of his finger. It was that of a great-horned owl, a primary feather from the wing, the black and gold colored stripes giving away its identity. He wondered, then … why an owl feather? Maybe it was just something her grandfather hadn’t thought much about, but sometimes a certain kind of bird feather in a cowboy’s hat had a meaning behind it.
Thinking back, he recalled Y/N telling him that her grandfather hadn’t lived ‘the best life.’ That he’d been some kind of wanderer. Arthur found himself being curious as to what exactly she had meant. A wanderer?
What kind of life had the old man lived that had her hesitating to tell him the whole story? And what of the feather?
A cough escaped him, and he lifted a had to cover his mouth, clearing his throat then.
Austin looked over at him with curious eyes, “You alright, cowpoke?”
Arthur couldn’t help but give a small smile as he turned his head to face the young man, narrowing his eyes at him, “I’m just fine, little feller, how ’bout yourself?”
The brother narrowed his eyes in return, showing that he was clearly offended by the term Arthur had used on him, “I ain’t ‘little.’”
Arthur laughed, “Why, sure you is, little feller. As long as you call me a cowpoke, I’ll keep callin’ you little. Sound fair?”
Austin grunted, “Not really.” He reached up to scratch at his cheek, then added, “But you kinda do strike me as a cowpoke.”
“Well, you strike me as little, boah,” Arthur said with a grin, his voice a low rough tone as he patted his chest with an open palm, “And it’ll be much worse if you ain’t careful, son.”
Austin grunted, letting out a huff as if he wasn’t amused with Arthur’s teasing in the least.
Several more moments of silence passed, and Arthur gently placed the hat back on his head.
“So she decided to give you our grandfather’s hat, huh?” Austin asked, his voice sounding a bit sour as he cracked the reins again.
Arthur looked over at him, noting the expression the boy had on his face. He didn’t look angry, exactly, but from his eyes Arthur could tell there was some kind of story. “What do you mean?” He asked.
Austin let out a long sigh, “Well, I know she told you it belonged to our grandfather, and he weren’t the best man when he was alive. I never wanted to touch the damn thing after he died.” He lifted his eyes to meet Arthur’s, “Kinda feels weird that you’re wearin’ it, s’all.”
Arthur took that moment as a chance to find out what he could, maybe the brother could give him some of the information he’d been wondering about. “Who was he?”
Austin let out a sarcastic laugh, “I don’t think that’s for me to say. If she didn’t tell you, I don’t think I should be the one to do so.”
Arthur’s natural instinct would’ve been to reach out and choke the bastard to get the information he wanted. It was a feeling he was used to whenever assholes gave him a hard time, but he could respect the brother for looking after his sister.
Another curious thought occurred to him then, and he couldn’t help but ask, “What were y’all doin’ before you found me up on that mountain?”
He could see Austin freeze up at the question, and the young man turned his gaze over to look at him, “You mean that night? We were travelin’ back from Emerald Ranch. Y/N needed to do a trade for some of the supplies we needed for the horses. We have a few contacts scattered here and there for supplies we need that we can’t get up here, and sometimes we need to travel a ways to get them.
“We were supposed to arrive home sometime in the late evening, but we ran into this strange man on the road. He looked odd, short gray dreads, green bandana around his head, weird old clothing. Said his name was William.”
Arthur stilled at that.
“But anyhow,” Austin continued, not noticing that Arthur had suddenly froze, “he was camping out on the side of the road near Moonstone Pond, and he had all these strange plants he seemed to be workin’ with. Of course, it grabbed Y/N’s attention and he invited us over, so she and I stopped to chat with him for a while.” Austin chuckled as he recalled the memory, “What was supposed to be a small chat ended up bein’ a two-hour conversation. I didn’t really listen to what they were sayin’ since I was wrapped up in a book I’ve been readin’. Eventually I had to pull her away since it was gettin’ late.
“When we were just about to leave, she mentioned a special plant that grew over by O’Creagh’s Run, must’ve been somethin’ they were talkin’ about earlier. I was about to say no, but she gave me this look. She has this thing that she does with her eyes, drives me crazy ’cuz I can’t turn her down when she does it.
"So we headed over there, and I stopped the wagon by the small lake so she could explore the area. I just hung out under a tree with my book to pass the time … That’s when we heard the sounds.”
Arthur lifted his head and narrowed his eyes, “Sounds?”
“Gunshots, shoutin’ — We was goin’ to leave the area as quickly as possible, but — well, Y/N could hear the struggles, fighting, a man in pain, and she couldn’t stop herself.” Austin paused, as if he were deep in thought, “We saw someone runnin’ away from the mountain before they disappeared into the trees. I didn’t really get a good look at the man, but it looked like he had dirty, long blonde hair … someone you knew?”
The fury that suddenly welled in Arthur’s chest didn’t surprise him in the least damn bit.
Micah.
That damned rat.
The rat that weaseled his way in and ultimately destroyed the Van Der Linde gang in such a short amount of time.
Twenty goddamned years of loyalty and service to Dutch, and the old fool had decided to listen and believe someone who’d just joined the gang not half a year ago, a man who’d only been out for himself in the end … Just like Dutch …
“Arthur?”
Austin’s voice interrupted Arthur’s thoughts and snapped him back to reality. “Yeah, sorry ’bout that, kid. Just thinkin’.”
Austin seemed to have picked up on Arthur’s mood, no doubt from the gravel Arthur felt in his throat from the emotion that had just been about to take him over. He couldn’t dwell on such things, not right now. What good did it do?
At that moment another thought occurred to him, “You didn’t want Y/N takin’ me in, did you?” He stated it as fact since he knew the answer, but he found himself wanting to hear what Austin’s response would be.
The boy chuckled darkly, looking straight ahead at the narrow dirt trail. “Honestly, when we heard the gunshots, I thought it was going to be a trap, an ambush of some kind. But Y/N … When we reached that mountain and found you laying on that rock, it was like she didn’t care about anythin’ else in the world but you.” He cleared his throat, “The whole time I was worried that she was going to get herself killed, being so close to a stranger. I feared that something terrible would happen, like you would have a knife hidden on you, or a friend of yours would come leaping out of a hiding spot and shoot her dead.” Austin lowered his head, looking down at his lap as if lost in thought, “To tell you the truth, I don’t know what I would’ve done had that been the case. Y/N is my whole world right now, and she matters to me more than anythin’ else in my pathetic life.”
Arthur’s eyes softened, almost finding himself sympathizing with the poor boy, but he continued to listen.
“When she insisted on taking you to our cabin, I nearly lost it. Watching her take you in and nurse you back to health every day, I couldn’t help but fear for the worst. I still thought you had something evil planned. Some monsters would go to any length to take advantage and trick people like us to get what they want, even if it’s hurtin’ one of their own.”
The boy was smart, Arthur admitted to himself. There were definitely men like that out there, and he should damn well know.
“But when she mentioned you had Tuberculosis, and I began seeing the signs from you, how truly sick you were — I guess … Well, I guess I noticed how stupid I was bein’ at that point — but I was too proud to admit it.
“After you showed your skills with the gun, I realized you could've killed us both whenever you wanted long before that point. The thought was scary, of course, but finally seeing that all you needed was a gun or your bare hands to take us both out and you never did? Well, I guess you can say my stupidity wore off a lil’ bit at that point.”
Arthur grinned, amused with Austin’s confession at how much of an idiot he had been for all the trouble he’d given him.
But could he fully blame Austin? The boy was just looking after his sister, and Arthur couldn’t do nothing but respect him for it. “Don’t hurt yourself too much over it, boah. You’re just lookin’ after her, I understand. In fact,” he leaned back and rolled his shoulders, stretching out the tension in his back, “I kinda like that.”
Austin acknowledged his statement with a small nod and a smile. “I love her, I really do. She’s family, and the most wonderful person I know.” He narrowed his eyes at Arthur and teased, “If you ever hurt her, though, I’ll make sure to shoot you square in the chest, got it?”
Arthur threw back his head and laughed at the threat, “If you say so. But don’t you worry — I ain’t got plans for that.” The fact that the young man had the courage to actually threaten him was truly entertaining, and Arthur couldn’t help but note how much smaller the man actually was compared to him. Arthur had a good six inches on him in height, and a whole lot more muscle, despite the fact that he was still sick. The boy worked hard, but they clearly didn’t eat enough for him to gain a whole lot of meat on his bones. He was about as contrasted as he could be compared to Arthur.
He was grateful Austin had finally swallowed his pride down enough in order to ask him how to hunt. They truly did need it, and he would do his best to teach them. It was the least he could do for him and his sister after everything they’d done for him.
The next several moments were quiet, minus the sound of Lily’s hooves hitting the ground and the tittering of birds high up in the trees.
“So what’s it like livin’ up here?” Arthur asked. “It don’t seem too bad.”
“It ain’t,” Austin replied with a shrug, “It was tough for the first few months, but we managed. Built ourselves a camp, then eventually built ourselves a cabin — then the stables for the horses and other animals.” He cleared his throat, “Of course it’s been hard, what with my lack of huntin’ skills, but Y/N absolutely loves it. She enjoys bein’ surrounded by all the wildlife and plants.”
Arthur found himself suddenly more invested, wanting to know more about Y/N and her passions. “And her garden?”
“She’s been in love with flowers since she was a tiny thing. When we came up here, she brought a few supplies that belonged to our mother, and she got to work on that garden right away.” He let out a small laugh, “What started as a small batch of flowers and herbs turned into a small estate of all kinds of plants. She’s been finding different herbs all over the place and replanting them here for the past three years. Every month it gets larger and larger. I’ll admit, it looks pretty damn beautiful.”
Arthur grinned. “That is does,” he agreed with a nod. It did indeed, Y/N’s garden was a pretty good size, and the colorful shrubbery was a marvel to look at, truthfully. He’d been able to see it out through one of the windows as he’d been recovering on that couch all that time ...
“So how are you feeling, Arthur?” Austin asked, breaking the silence.
Arthur turned his head to look at him, “What?”
Austin lifted a hand to point at his chest, “Your TB, you were coughing a bit earlier, just checking to see how you’re feelin’ now?”
Arthur rubbed his own palm over his chest, “I’m just fine, you’re sister’s got some healin’ magic goin’ on with those herbs of hers.”
The boy’s laugh was loud and sharp, “Y/N has a talent with nature, that’s for damn sure. I swear she may be Mother Nature herself.”
The two men’s laughter echoed through the trees as they travelled further down the trail. A squirrel skittered across the ground, and Arthur watched it disappear into the thick foliage on the other side.
More time passed, until finally they reached a small clearing. Arthur lifted his finger to point over to a small grassy area. “That’s a good spot to start.”
Austin pulled back the reins until Lily stopped, bringing the wagon to a halt. He looked over to where he was pointing and lifted a brow, “Really? Doesn’t seem like the kind of spot wildlife would be, it’s too open.”
Arthur gave him a bewildered look. “Wildlife don’t always need to be in a particular spot in order for you to track ’em, Austin.” He said, his drawl annoyed, letting the young man know through his tone that what Austin had stated was completely idiotic. He got up and climbed down out of the wagon, walking towards the small patch, “This area's got plenty of plant-life, tellin’ you it’s a good spot to start pickin’ up trails.” He narrowed his eyes as he placed his hands on his belt, turning his head as he took in the surrounding forest. “It’s perfect for grazin’, plenty of cover ’round here if they need it."
Austin crawled out of the wagon, grabbing his carbine repeater. It was smart — even though they didn’t need it for killing today, it was better to be safe than get caught off-guard by any wild predators. He walked over to Arthur, and Arthur began walking slowly across the grass, looking down to examine the dirt. “Now whatchu wanna do is look for any signs, footprints, fur, dung, broken branches and whatnot.” He took several steps forward, crouching low so he could see better.
Austin did the same, crouching to help look around for anything they could pick up. “So look for those things, got it.” He said, crawling low to the ground.
“You also wanna be quiet as possible, don’t wanna draw any attention towards yourself or you’ll scare off anythin’ nearby. Same thing can be said about your gun.” Arthur looked over his shoulder at him, “You ever use a bow before, boah?”
Austin shook his head, “Only a couple times when I was young. We got one up by the cabin stored in the shed. Another thing that belonged to our grandfather, but I never touched the damned thing.”
Arthur huffed, amused at the other man’s stubborn nature. “It’s a useful weapon, kid, it can be used to make quiet kills so you don’t frighten off any wildlife in the near vicinity.”
The young man just let out a grunt, “I ain’t touchin’ that thing.”
Arthur just shrugged at the boy’s pride, “Up to you, but I highly suggest you start learnin’ how to use it.”
Over the next several minutes, they examined the grounds, both of them crawling quietly through the tall grass.
“Arthur?”
Austin’s whispered voice reached Arthur’s ear, and he turned to see him waving his arm, gesturing for him to come over. He made his way over, and once he was beside Austin the kid pointed at a few small hoof prints in the soil. He smiled, “Good job there, feller, now see if you can follow them.”
The boy nodded and did just that. Over the next half hour, Arthur continued to help him by pointing out other signs, such as crushed grass, a couple broken branches, and bits of fur here and there. The last sign was several strange marks on one of the trees twenty yards away. ‘Tree rubs,’ of course.
“This way,” Arthur whispered, leading them quietly through a few tall bushes.
Finally they reached a new wide-open clearing. This one had a small pond directly in the center, and in the distance, Arthur spotted the white-tailed buck grazing on some of the lush green grass at its feet.
For a moment, Arthur froze, recalling all the dreams he’d been having. The buck looked so similar to the one in his dreams; the size, the coat, the large antlers it displayed. Every single detail was precise.
Austin sat beside him, and Arthur felt rather than heard the boy lifting his gun.
At that moment, a doe and two young fawns appeared from behind one of the large boulders, the three of them approaching the large buck.
Arthur grabbed the barrel of the gun before Austin could aim the thing.
He watched as the doe came over to the buck with the two young close behind her, and the creatures nuzzled each other lovingly.
It was a sight that Arthur found himself lost in, and he couldn’t help but think of his own family, what was, what could have been, what might have been … If he’d only chosen a different life for himself …
What the hell was wrong with him?
“What the hell are you doin’, Arthur?”
Austin’s voice echoed his thoughts, snapping him back out from his mind. Arthur cleared his throat, “Let’s leave ’em be, kid.” He was going to leave it at that, but then he added “We promised Y/N, remember? Just trackin’.”
Austin gave him a strange look, but after a couple of moments he seemed to decide not to argue with him. “So what now?”
Arthur gazed at the family of deer a few seconds longer, then he flicked his gaze over to Austin, “I don’t know. I reckon we should head on back,” he turned to face the younger man, “You suppose your ready to travel back?”
Again with that strange look, what the hell was Austin seeing? Had Arthur suddenly grown his own pair of antlers? What was running through that boy’s mind?
Finally, he answered, “I guess so, I think I learned plenty today.” They both stood quietly and started heading back towards the wagon. Austin tucked the gun strap over his shoulder, reaching up to scratch at his cheek again. “I’ll admit that was actually quite fun. Thanks, Arthur. You’re a pretty great tracker, in all honesty.”
The compliment felt strange, Arthur thought, especially coming from Austin of all people, but he supposed he would take it. The boy was grateful, having learned something that would be incredibly useful for him and his sister when it came to their survival. “It ain’t no cake walk after this, boah. We still got a long way to go, trackin’ requires a lot of patience — an eagle's eye.”
Austin nodded, giving him a small smile, “I suppose that makes sense. A lot of patience — kinda like fishin’?”
Arthur let out a genuine laugh at that, “I guess you’re right.”
2 Weeks Later ...
Birds tittered high up in the trees, singing there own unique songs as the sun’s rays bore down on your back. The weather was absolutely gorgeous today, you thought to yourself as you knelt in your garden. You were in a cheery mood, humming softly as you pruned several of the herbs and flowers. You looked over your shoulder to see that Arthur was still relaxing on the porch swing, working on something in his journal. Writing or drawing? You had no clue, but you were going to leave him to his privacy.
The last two weeks had been quite the ride.
Arthur’s body was improving, his skin and muscles filling back out with each passing week. Even though his blood still showed signs of leftover Tuberculosis bacteria, it was clear his body was slowly but successfully fighting it off. You continued to give him treatments every other day, and he still took daily doses of honey per your instructions.
But despite the fact his body was getting better physically, you knew the herbs and medication still had a large impact on both his physical and mental state, so you still urged him to be cautious with his actions so that he didn’t overwork himself too much. It was crucial for him to stay in a calm state so his mind and body wouldn’t somehow become unstable.
He’d been sleeping a lot better. Every night you woke up to check on him, and Arthur was sleeping peacefully every time. Truly, it made you happy to see him so relaxed now. Ever since you’d sung that lullaby for him so many nights ago, that nightmare of his hadn’t seemed to come back. Though you still wondered who this John was, no matter how much it bothered you, you didn’t want to risk bringing anymore pain to Arthur.
For the past several days Arthur had been on his feet helping out around the cabin, whether it was doing chores or hunting with Austin, he managed to keep himself busy throughout the day. He was regaining the muscle and healthy tone he’d no doubt once had before, his face, eyes, and cheeks becoming full once more, and he was beginning to gain a tan from being out in the sun so much now.
Ever since you had given it to him, not once had Arthur ever taken off his new hat. Unless he was asleep or bathing, the thing rarely ever left his head.
It really did look good on him.
You had to admit, the man was absolutely stunning. Whenever he worked or did any kind of physical labor, you couldn’t help but watch those muscles in his body sometimes, how they moved and flexed beneath his skin, noting the healthy shine of sweat on his face, his neck, his forearms, and God help you, but sometimes he went shirtless when he worked, and it was all you could do not to throw yourself at the man. Push him to the ground and take him there and then —
What on earth was wrong with you? You shook your head hard, trying to perish those dirty thoughts from your mind. You weren’t exactly a plucked flower, but you’d read enough romance novels to give yourself plenty of naughty imagination.
Letting out a sigh, you plucked another dead leaf. There were so many scars across his body, old and new, but one stuck out to you the most. You recalled the scar you’d seen on Arthur’s chest, just above his left pectoral. There was no doubt it was a gunshot wound, the scar tissue around it having sunken down into the ruined flesh. It had long since healed, but the skin there was still pink, still soft, so it hadn’t been too long since it was inflicted on him. Again you wondered, what had happened to him? Who’d shot him? Why? The thoughts of possibility raced through your head, but going off his nature and what you’d seen of him thus far, you couldn’t come to a conclusion or even imagine why anyone would want to hurt that man.
Reaching out to crush another dead leaf, you smiled to yourself.
Arthur was strong ... indeed he was a fighter.
You’d slowly been getting more and more comfortable with the thought of Arthur going out with Austin on his hunting trips, allowing them to start traveling out as far as they needed to go. Food was getting low, and finally you’d told the two boys that they could start hunting for game if they wished. You were proud of them both, for keeping to their word and staying safe.
You could tell your brother was improving with his skills thanks to Arthur, just last week they had managed to bring back a boar, and Arthur had told you that your brother had managed to track it down on his own, but Austin had admitted that he’d missed the first few shots, and Arthur had to kill the boar himself. The two had slowly been getting along, you’d noticed. It was more than refreshing to see.
Arthur had been helping Austin out with his aim several times over the last two weeks, the two of them practicing down by the stream in the late evenings.
You would stay back and watch to observe every chance you got. Honestly, you secretly wished it was you Arthur was teaching. To show you how to handle a gun, how to aim it, how to shoot. You had no idea how to use a weapon, so you picked up whatever you could from the two of them.
Your brother had recently started working with your grandfather’s bow, which confused you at first, since he’d always insisted on using his own carbine repeater. But then he’d explained to you that Arthur had told him it was a stealthy hunting tactic in order to capture more game.
Finally, you’d understood. Winter was slowly approaching, and it was more than important to learn how to use a much quieter weapon, especially when wildlife was so much more scarce during the cold parts of the year.
But — despite countless hours of practice — Austin hadn’t managed to get the hang of it, which worried you somewhat. Poor man, each time he tried aiming an arrow, the thing would wobble in his grip and the shot itself ended up with the arrow landing on the ground only a few feet away. No matter how Arthur instructed him, it seemed hopeless. At one point Austin had nearly thrown the thing into the stream, shouting something about how the bow wasn’t working properly. But Arthur had tested the thing for himself, and of course it worked flawlessly when he’d used it, the arrow finding its mark perfectly on one of the trees he’d been aiming for..
You’d found yourself strangely drawn to the weapon, you had to admit, though you weren’t quite sure why.
The bow itself was very beautiful. The long round limbs were made of dark maple wood, painted with some kind of glossy coating to protect the wood from wear and tear. The handle was wrapped in finely engraved black leather strips. There were several more curly engravings that ran along the weapon itself, and two small metal owl heads were placed at each end, the beaks holding the tight silver bowstring.
A part of you really wanted to try it out for yourself at some point.
The two men were planning on going on another hunting trip today, so it was going to be another quiet evening alone at the cabin for you. Strangely enough, even though you finally felt comfortable with them both being gone, you still weren’t quite used to it.
“How you doin’ there, Y/N?”
Arthur’s deep voice nearly had you jumping out of your skin. You leapt to your feet and turned around to face him. “Arthur!” Your voice cracked, and you cleared your throat, “I didn’t hear you comin’ over.”
Grinning, he let out a soft chuckle, “Sorry bout that, honey, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
“You’re fine,” you said, waving off his apology.
He looked over your shoulder at the plants behind you, “So what’re you doin’?”
You turned to look down at the herbs you’d been working on, “Oh, well I was just pruning some of the plants.” At his questioning look you added, “Sometimes some of the leaves or stems die and I need to take them off, otherwise it could cause disease and the nutrients inside the plants are wasted trying to feed what’s no longer alive. When I get rid of the dead pieces it allows them to focus on keeping the rest of the plant strong and healthy.”
Arthur nodded, though you had the feeling he was only pretending to understand what you were talking about in order to make you feel better, going by the confused look and his face; his eyes narrowed, his mouth her in a small grimace. “So these herbs,” he cleared his throat, “them what you used to treat my TB with?”
His curiosity nearly had you taken aback. Honestly, you hadn’t really expected him to care enough to ask such a question. “Yes,” you said, your voice soft as you looked up at him, “I — I gather pieces from them from time to time and make several elixirs and medications from their properties.” You pointed to one of the plants, “That right there is Ginger, it’s used as an antioxidant, which can help take care of some of the negative effects caused by most bacterias.” You pointed to several others, giving the names and explaining what each of them did.
By the time you’d named a few more, you looked back at Arthur, and his brows were drawn down tight, his hand rubbing at the side of his temple as if he’d gotten a headache. You nearly laughed, “I’m sorry, Arthur, I tend to get carried away sometimes.”
Arthur lifted a brow as if he were actually amused, “I can tell you really enjoy your work,” he said, a wide grin stretching those lips of his, “It’s really amazin’. You should be proud, honey.”
You lowered your eyes, feeling a blush creep into your cheeks, “Thank you, Arthur. I honestly wouldn’t know as much as I did without my mother’s journal. She taught me so much.” You voice nearly hitched, and you blinked several times in order to keep any tears from welling.
Arthur reached out and laid a warm hand on your shoulder in an effort to comfort you, “I’m sure she’d be real proud of you, Y/N.”
You couldn’t speak, so you just nodded in answer.
Several moments passed, and Arthur spoke again, “Austin mentioned to me that you ran into a man named William?”
Your head jerked up that that, surprised. “He told you about that?”
Arthur nodded, “The night you saved me from that mountain, told me you met an herbalist the same day. Quite a character.”
Your brows lifted, “You know him?”
“Yeah. Met him a few times, a long while ago, before — Well, before all that shit went down.”
“Language, Arthur!”
You both laughed, and he tipped his hat to you.
He was truly adorable, you thought as you smiled at him. You lifted your gaze to look at the hat. “So, how you liking your new hat, Arthur?”
Your question had him letting out a laugh as he ran his fingers across the leather brim. “Keep’s the sun outta my eyes, like you said,” he teased. His eyes softened then, those beautiful sapphire-emeralds seeming to stare directly into your soul. “Thank you, Y/N.”
His grateful smile alone nearly overwhelmed you, and you quickly spoke your next words before you found your idiot-self getting lost in his gaze. “I’m glad you like it. My grandmother made that hat for our grandfather when they were both young. It was … meant to stand for something … but he didn’t do it justice with the life he led. It needs to be worn by a good man. Someone like you.”
Arthur’s expression seemed to change at that moment, and you couldn’t help but notice the softness in his eyes suddenly grow hard.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
A good man.
It was all Arthur could do not to lose himself then and there. To take the hat off and give it back to her immediately, to leave and never turn back even once. Dammit, he didn’t deserve to be here. He didn’t deserve the treatments he’d been given, all the hospitality, the food and shelter that Y/N and Austin had so generously given.
He wasn’t a good man, and he damn well knew it.
It was the second time she’d called him that, and he nearly had to bite his tongue. But what could he possibly say to her at that moment? That he wasn’t the man she truly thought he was? That he’d been a liar? A thief? A ruthless killer?
An outlaw …
Arthur did his best not to squeeze his eyes shut from the sudden pain that welled in his chest. What the hell was wrong with him? There was nothing he could say or do to get past the ache in his heart from those words.
For once, he was extremely grateful to hear that sill boy’s scratchy voice calling out to both of them.
Y/N smiled, looking over Arthur’s shoulder, “Austin, how are ya?”
Austin came jogging over, his face and clothes covered in dust and dirt from whatever work he’d been doing earlier. He stopped a few feet in front of them, “I’m doin’ just fine, sis,” he panted, nodding at Y/N and meeting Arthur’s gaze. “Hey, Arthur, so you ready for our next huntin’ trip?” The young man asked him, a naive yet excited smile spread across his face. Over the past two weeks he’d learned to enjoy the trips, getting to learn something new from them each and every time.
Arthur shrugged with a small chuckle, “That depends, are you?” He nodded at the dirt covering the boy.
Austin scratched his cheek, “Yeah, sorry about that, sir.” He brushed off the dirt from his clothes, “It ain’t nothin’, Just noticed the two of you over here and I wanted to see if you were prepared to head out.”
Over the last several days, Austin had grown the strange and somewhat annoying habit of calling him sir, and Arthur didn’t really know why. Was he trying to show some sort of respect toward him? Maybe after acting like such a dumbass over the past month, he might’ve thought addressing Arthur in that way would gain him redemption? It felt odd, and Arthur really wished he wouldn’t call him that, but he’d go along with it if it made the younger man feel better.
“Well, Austin,” Arthur said, clearing his throat, “Ready when you are, then.”
“Dandy! I found an interestin’ new spot I think we should go check out a ways up north, the wagon’s already loaded up and ready to go.” Austin stated, pointing over toward the stables where the coach stood, with Lily already attached to it. The boy was quick, Arthur thought. He must’ve been busy getting everything prepared while he and Y/N had been working on their own tasks.
Arthur lowered his eyes. On one hand he didn’t want to leave Y/N so abruptly, but on the other he needed to escape the tension that had suddenly risen in his gut from her words. A good man … how could he follow up that line with any further conversation? It hadn’t angered him, but he was tired of hearing it — from anyone. He gave a single nod, “Let’s head out, then.”
As Austin nodded and headed off toward the wagon, Arthur looked back over his shoulder to meet Y/N’s gaze, “We’ll be back soon, honey.” He said softly, winking and giving her a small grin. He hoped she wasn’t disappointed, but he needed to get out of there. Clear his head.
But she didn’t look upset. No, instead her eyes absolutely glowed as she gave him another one of her beautiful smiles. “Y’all stay safe, Arthur.” After a slight moment of hesitation, she returned his wink, “You keep Austin safe now.”
Her teasing helped the tension ease away somewhat, and he let out a chuckle, “Don’t you worry, I’ll keep him in line.”
With that, he headed over to join Austin on the wagon.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
“So where we headed?” Arthur asked as Austin steered Lily up the narrow trail through the tall sequoia trees. He and the younger man waved farewell to Y/N with her returning the gesture as they disappeared around a large rock.
Austin lowered his hand, pulling out a piece of paper from his pocket. He unfolded it and handed it to Arthur, “There’s this new place I wanna check out, passed by it a few days ago while ridin’ Butch. Seemed interestin’.”
Arthur took the map and held it up, looking over a simple drawing of directions. They appeared to lead up north towards the larger mountains, further into the forest.
The kid pointed at a thick scribble he’d made on the paper, “That area right there, it’s right at the foot of the mountains between the trees. A small area of tall grass. I saw a family of elk there a couple times. If we can spot them again, I’m sure we can bring back enough food to last us for a month.”
What he said was true, one elk could last them quite a while. If they managed to kill one, they’d be set for weeks. Arthur folded the map back up and handed it back, “You seem to know what you’re doin’,” He said with a light laugh.
Austin shook his head, “Only a little, sir, it’s why I thought it best for you to come along on this one.”
Arthur shrugged, “You’ll get the hang of it soon enough, kid,” He reached out and patted the man’s shoulder. “I’ll look after ya.”
The younger man narrowed his eyes, “I don’t need no hand-holdin’, Arthur.”
Arthur’s heart suddenly skipped at those words, his smile dropping from his face as his eyes grew flat.
Those words … when had he last heard those exact words —
A memory flashed through his mind … Lenny …
He flinched, lowering his head as he reached up to tug down the brim of his hat, hiding his expression from the brother. The pain was almost unbearable … coming back to bit him in the ass once more.
The loss of his friends, of his family — it had only been a couple months, and the agony still felt just as sharp, as though it had only been yesterday when his life had completely fallen apart.
… What life, though?
Arthur nearly wanted to laugh at himself from the thought.
His family had meant everything to him, the bond they’d shared more real than anything else in the world.
But Arthur would be lying to himself if he’d thought what they had was any kind of real life. He’d spent the majority of his chasing a dream for a life he weren’t even sure about, along with the rest of the gang who’d followed over the years. He’d failed all of them. Hosea, Lenny, Kieran, Sean, Grimshaw, Mac, Davey, Jenny … they’d all had their own lives snatched away from them so abruptly.
They’d never had the chance for the life they’d so desperately fought for.
And the others … Charles, Sadie, Tilly, Mary-Beth, Uncle … Karen, Swanson, Trelawny … Where were they now?
The wonder of their whereabouts prodded his mind like a hot poker every single day. Even though he tried so hard to move on in hopes that they would do the same and lead normal lives, it was extremely difficult to do so. He only hoped they were all safe. They all deserved so much more after all the shit they went through in the gang.
And Jack, Abigail, John …
Arthur lifted his eyes to stare up at the sky, the sun’s bright rays peeking through the small clouds.
‘You’re my brother.’
Those words echoed through his mind, and he allowed himself a sad smile. He thought back to Sister Calderon, the words she’d spoken echoing in his head. ‘Take a gamble that love exists.’
Arthur wasn’t the religious type, but deep inside his heart he prayed for the sake of John and his family, for their safety, so that they may go on to live the lives they’d damn well earned.
John Marston. The boy was a goddamn fool, but he loved Abigail and Jack, and Arthur knew he’d do anything to protect them. They were safe.
He knew, deep down in his heart something told him. They were out there.
Time passed by quickly, and finally the wagon stopped. Arthur felt the seat lift as Austin hopped out, and he shook himself out of his thoughts, realizing that they’d arrived at the foot of the mountains. Arthur looked around, taking in the small grassy clearing. He raised a hand to lift the brim of his hat, looking up at the base of the mountain, a tall cliff that encircled half of the area. The other half was enclosed by the thick forest of trees that towered over them, their green and multi-colored coming-autumn leaves providing cool shade to the tiny meadow.
“We’re finally here,” Austin said cheerfully as he rolled his shoulders, stretching out the stiffness in his limbs. He walked behind the wagon to grab his carbine repeater.
Arthur examined the area closely. Indeed, it was a great area for wildlife of all kinds. Plenty of grass, soft ground, perfect temperature, and shelter. He narrowed his eyes, noting a small cave opening at the base of the cliff. It was too small for a bear or cougar, so it was probably just a family of deer, he thought. Still, they had to be cautious. It was an unexplored area. He looked over his shoulder as Austin approached him from behind and stared at the gun he held, “You need to get a handle on that bow soon, kid.” He said teasingly.
“I know, I know, and I ain’t a kid!” Austin snapped, “I’ve been tryin’ but I’m just hopeless with the damn thing!”
Arthur nearly laughed at the blush that crept into Austin’s cheeks as he looked away, unable to meet Arthur’s gaze.
He really had been trying his best, Arthur did notice, but the bow was turning out to be the boy’s natural enemy. Either he weren’t a good teacher, or the bow was truly hopeless for him. Where was Charles when he needed him, Arthur thought almost sadly.
Arthur shook his head at the thought, then threw his hand up in the general direction. “Lead the way.”
Austin gave a small but nervous nod, stepping forward and leading them both across the grass towards the cliff. They crept slowly and quietly, staying low to the tall grass to avoid being spotted by any of the nearby wildlife. There were small sounds here and there as Austin examined the grounds, but they were mostly from squirrels or small rabbits. Since Austin only had the gun with him, they weren’t going to risk scaring off any larger game by shooting and possibly missing smaller targets. Arthur had taught him to be careful with such things.
Gradually they got further and further away from the wagon, and Austin led Arthur towards the foot of the cliff. “There,” the younger man whispered, pointing toward some hoof-prints that had been left behind in the ground. They created a trail, and the two men followed it, making their way around the cliff. Finally, the tracks stopped at the base of some large rocks that formed a small ramp towards the top of the cliff. Austin began to climb, and Arthur followed behind him, as quiet as they could possibly be.
Suddenly a small rock bounced down from atop the cliff, landing in the small meadow below, and Arthur looked up, spotting a small glimpse of large antlers just over the peak. “There’s one,” Austin whispered next to him, having seen them as well.
“Alright, get your gun ready,” Arthur whispered back as they approached the top. His heart was racing, but he forced himself to calm down as they reached the top of the plateau. The elevated area was covered in thick foliage, and the two men hid behind the thick shrubbery as they made their way over to a large rock that provided solid cover.
Austin slowly and quietly cocked the gun, peering over at the large creature nibbling on some of the grass by the cliff-edge. It was a huge bull elk, appearing to weigh at least seven hundred and twenty-five pounds. The creature was definitely large, larger than any Arthur had seen in a long while. The creature was magnificent, he thought. The meat on its bones could definitely keep them fed for weeks.
He looked over at Austin, noticing that the boy was breathing hard, creating too much noise. “Calm yourself,” Arthur muttered, “Elk can hear very well, take a deep breath and let it out slow.”
Austin did as he was told, closing his eyes as he did so. “Alright,” he whispered, then he slowly began scooting forward. He crouched carefully, propping the barrel of the gun on the tip of the boulder.
A small loose rock was knocked off as the weapon was adjusted, landing with a small crack on the hard ground. The elk snatched its head up, its ears perked in their direction. It looked over toward their spot, and before Arthur could stop what happened next, Austin quickly stood from behind cover and fired the repeater.
It was so quick, the kid having not given himself the proper aiming stance, and the recoil shot him backwards, the bullet missing the elk as it pinged off the one of the rocks several feet away. The creature jumped, bounding off quickly in the opposite direction. Austin lifted his gun and fired a few more rounds as it fled down the cliff.
“What the hell are you doin’?!” Arthur grabbed the man’s firing arm as the elk disappeared into the forest below, Lily whinnying and rearing in the wagon as the creature sped by her.
The boy grunted from the small pain of his fall, “I’m sorry, sir,” he grimaced as he stood slowly, “I thought — I thought it heard us, I wanted to try and get it before it ran away —”
“Of course it heard us, you goddamn fool!” Arthur snapped, anger boiling in his blood. “But it didn’t see us! Now the whole damn forest knows we’re here.”
Austin lowered his head, no doubt feeling ashamed from his actions.
“All you had to do was stay still,” Arthur growled, snatching the firearm from Austin’s grip. “Start headin’ down to the wagon. Ain’t no hope of gettin’ anything out here now.”
The boy didn’t say anything, only giving a small nod as he turned away and headed towards the rocks. It was more than clear the man knew he’d made a mistake, and Arthur was more than upset with him. The next few moments were quiet as they started making their way down the way they’d came.
As soon as they reached the meadow, Arthur halted in his tracks, placing a hand to Austin’s chest to stop him, “Hold on.”
Austin looked at him questioningly, “What is it, sir?”
Arthur didn’t answer as he skimmed his gaze over the tall grass. Something wasn’t right. It was way too damn quiet ...
Just then, a massive wolf lunged out of the shrubs from behind, jumping up and catching Arthur on his left shoulder, its sharp teeth sinking deep as its claws caught his flesh.
“Arthur!” Austin yelled.
Arthur shouted in pain as the force knocked him forward, his hat falling away as the heavy weight of the wolf bore down on his body. The gun was knocked out of his hands, and he hit the ground hard. His heart began to beat fast as sharp snarling noises pierced his ears, sharp claws digging deep into his shoulders, Arthur cried out as his flesh was torn open, and he began to struggle, trying his best to flip onto his back. He wasn’t going out without a fight.
The massive gray wolf was unbelievably strong, but Arthur managed to grip the wolf’s head, crushing its skull between his hands as hard as he could until the wolf let go, jumping off his body momentarily. He looked over to see the gun lying on the ground just a couple feet away.
Arthur flipped himself over just before the beast made another attempt and leapt back onto him, its teeth bared for another bite as it aimed for his throat. But Arthur barely managed to block its target by taking hold of the wolf’s neck with a single hand, using the other to try and reach for the gun. Blood was seeping from his neck and shoulders, and his heartbeat began rushing throughout his entire body as the sharp teeth gnashed and snapped just inches away from his face, getting closer as his strength grew weaker.
He let out a loud guttural sound and gathered all the strength he had left, finally managing to grip the gun and swing it through the air, using the butt of the handle to knock the large beast off of him. He staggered to his feet, aiming quickly as he fired the weapon, hitting the wolf square in the chest just as it rushed towards him again. With a loud whine the thing fell to the ground dead, and Arthur’s head whipped around as he heard more growling.
Two more wolves had crept out of the bushes and had cornered Austin near the cliff. The kid looked absolutely terrified as the beasts stalked toward him, his body having frozen entirely.
“Austin!” Damn him if he was going to let another person die on his watch.
Arthur’s gaze began to spin as he aimed at the wolves. He cocked the weapon, but he was seeing damn near triple of everything around him. He was losing blood fast, and he nearly collapsed as he began to feel light-headed. With no other choice, he let out a hard huff, and with everything he had left he lurched across the grass and lunged forward, pushing Austin aside just in time right before one of the the wolves ran towards them.
The heavy creature tackled Arthur’s body hard, causing him to collapse again as the weapon was knocked out of his hands once more. The butt of the cocked gun hit the ground and went off, a sharp whine echoing through the trees as the stray bullet miraculously hit the other wolf. It ran off, leaving a heavy trail of blood in its wake.
As the last wolf held Arthur to the ground, he thought this was going to be it. He had nothing left, he felt absolutely nothing, his mind having completely turned off as his own blood seeped out onto the ground beneath him, his weak limbs refusing to move as his vision began to dim.
Suddenly, another gunshot went off, and he felt a heavy weight fall onto his body. It was soon pushed off, but he found himself unable to care as his heartbeat started drumming between his ears.
Arthur looked up at the sky, his breathing barely audible as he struggled to take in any air. Everything had happened so damn fast ... He could hear someone calling out his name. A man’s voice, but who? A blurry figure appeared over him as a dark red haze began to creep in around his vision, or was that just his imagination? Something hard pressed into his shoulder, and the pain shot through him like a lightning bolt.
Flashes began going through his mind, each one followed by his slowing heartbeats.
Two crosses, placed side by side …
… A large buck, lifting its head as it gazed off into the distance …
… The sun, setting just over the horizon.
Arthur thought of watching the sunrise … the last time he’d had this ethereal feeling … back wherever he’d been. A sunrise, now a sunset …
He felt his body getting lifted … was he finally leaving?
Just before he closed his eyes, a long howl echoed through his head. — To Be Continued
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sweets-fanfics · 4 years
Text
Homecoming 23
Title: Oh, give me a break
Wordcount: 2725
Chapter summary: Reader needs a fuckin break
Tags: @rollyjogerjones @bubbles2465
AN: Im sorry its late *bows*
_____________
Arthur had woken me up early a few days later to say he, Bea and Jack were going to go a bit down the river and fish. I had barely nodded and said yes before falling asleep again. Arthur had smirked and kissed my forehead before the three headed out for the day.
When I woke up later in the morning I put my arms up over my head and stretched. I glanced at the entrance feeling someone was standing there. And sure enough. My day was ruined.
“What Micah?” He was leaning on the wagon our tent is connected to and had a smile on his dirty face.
“I just thought I’d come to see how you slept, Princess.” The sincere-ness in his voice made me want to gag.
“It was good till I saw your face just now.”
“So… how are you and Morgan?” I eyed him as I slipped my shoes on over my jeans. 
“We are happily married, Mr. Bell.” I retort in a deadpan tone. “Why?”
“Well, I’ve been speakin’ to your brother and father…”
“Oh god..” I mumble over him.
“We think the Morgan may not be the man for you.”
“And since when do I care about your opinion?” I lean in to look in Arthur's mirror to comb and braid my hair. 
“Well… because you and cowpoke didn’t legally get married.”
“Micah. I have stuff I have to do today so spit it out.”
“Calm down woman, I’m gettin’ to it.” 
I roll my eyes and push past him towards the coffee. To my dismay, he follows.
“Your brother and father and I think it’ll be best you be with someone else.” I throw my head back and let out a loud laugh. 
“Since when do I give a damn about any of y'alls opinion of my love life. You aren’t even my family so I, even more, give no shits about you.” I took a sip of my coffee letting it wake me up.
“Well, your father and brother think you should be with someone like me.” I choked on my coffee and spit at him getting his face and shirt. “What the hell is your problem?”
“Why would anyone curse a poor woman to be with you? God ain’t that cruel.” I finished my cup and started back for my tent.
Micah grabbed my arm and yanked me back. “I already got your daddy’s permission.” He smirked.
Before my mind could even register I socked him in the nose making him fall back into the dirt. “Keep your nasty hands off me.” I turned towards Dutch’s tent where he was hiding. “How about you go to hell with trying to marry me off to this fucking asshole.”
“Daughter…” He started but I cut him off.
“No. I’m married. Not only am I married, but we also have a daughter. I’m not going to ever give Micah the time of day.” I turn towards him still on the floor. “Come near me, Arthur or my daughter again I’ll kill you.” As I turned on my heels back to the tent I saw Arthur with his jaw dropped and Bea in his arms. “Come on, Arthur. Let’s go.”
“Where are you goin’ wifey?” Micah asks getting up. “To look at those properties that rich ass is going to give you?” 
I stop for a moment before pulling out my pistol and aiming it an inch from his head. “You fucking piece of shit.”
“What properties?” Dutch asks walking up. Henry is behind him too. 
Arthur walks up with Bea still in one arm and has his pistol ready just in case. “It’s nothin’ Dutch,” Arthur says.
“You used to trust me, Arthur. You used to be my brother!” Dutch steps forward and I can see Henry has a gun out. Everyone else in camp is frozen not knowing whether to get involved or not. “You have become such a different person.”
“I think it’s best you let us go cool our heads. I don’t want to break a family apart but I insist. It’s the best thing at the moment.”
“You Insist?” Dutch says in disbelief. I feel like at that moment he may shoot Arthur right away, but thankfully, he doesn’t. Instead, he turns towards me. “I don’t want you to leave. I’ve only had you and your brother in my life for a small amount of time. I’m just doing what I think is best.”
“What you think is best? Or what this rat says is best.” I push the barrel closer. Micah just smirks at me, never moving his eyes away. 
“I know you and Arthur just want Bea to have a safe life. Arthur probably wants to protect her more since he already lost a child.”
I stumble a bit and glance at Arthur. “What’s he talkin’ about?” 
Arthur isn’t able to look me in the eye. “I… It’s nothing...” 
“Daughter… let’s not hurt Micah. Especially if you want to keep me happy.”
“Not entirely, right now,” I mumble.
“And let’s forget about those properties. Your place is with us.” I let out a groan and put my gun away before grabbing Bea from Arthur and heading towards Suzie. “Where are you going?”
“Away from this damn camp.” 
Bea looks at me confused as I put her on Suzie and climb up. Arthur hurries up and looks at me. “Y/N, hold on. Let me grab Athena and we can go somewhere” 
“Not right now, Arthur. You usually tell people you have a family with that you are already a father.” 
“Y/N, wait.” I roll my eyes and turn Suzie away. 
“I’m going to go check on Charlotte. Maybe you can come to find us when you decide you wanna tell me everything.” 
____________
It was late afternoon when I rode up to Charlotte’s property. I could hear pops of a gun and when Bea and I stopped I saw Charlotte trying to aim a repeater at some bottles. She fired but nothing shattered. There was a soft breeze that was carrying over mist from the giant waterfall nearby. Every time she tried to fire the gun birds would scare and fly away from the trees that surrounded the small farm.
I hopped off with Bea and walked up to her. “Miss Charlotte?” I say to make myself known so she doesn’t get scared. 
She glances over her shoulder and smiles. “Y/N, how lovely. I was hoping you’d visit.”
“What are you up to?” I glance at the bottles all lined up and smile.
“I’m feeling much better after your help so I decided to try my husband’s gun. However, my prey seems very unscathed.” She sighs and puts the butt of the gun in the dirty with the barrel facing up.
I take the gun and flip it around making her smile. “I could show you if you need help.” 
“Oh, that would be lovely.”
I put Bea down and she wanders to look at flowers nearby. “Well first,” I put her arms up and straighten them out to the correct position to fire her repeater. She looks at herself as I put the repeater in her hands and point at the bottles. “Alright stay just like that. You are going to take a deep breath and fire on the release. Always shoot on empty lungs.” 
She adjusts herself a bit and then takes a deep breath before firing and hitting the wooden crate the bottles were on making them shake a bit. “Wow. That’s the closest it’s been all day.”
“Good. Now try again.” I step back a bit and give her some space as she follows my instructions and fires making a bottle shatter. We both jump in delight as we look at the glass. 
“I did it!” Charlotte cheers.
“Great job.”
“How about you try, Mrs. Morgan? I bet you are a great shot.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Arthur is probably better at it than me.” 
She simply smiles and hands me the gun. “Go on, my pride won’t be hurt if you are a better shot than my weak work.”
I huff a laugh and take the repeater in my hands. I look at the bottles that are left and I finally take a deep breath and fire twice making two bottles shatter. Charlotte jumps up and smiles. As I turn and look at her I see Bea is also cheering and dancing. “Oh my! I’m never able to reload the gun that fast.”
“Practice I guess.”
“You know what? I still have some of that rabbit. How about you both come in and have some.”
“I wouldn’t want to impose…”
Bea pulls on my pants leg and gives a soft, “I’m hungry.”
Charlotte giggles, “I guess that settles it then.” I pick up Bea and follow Charlotte inside the cabin. She motions for us to sit at her table before turning to grab some bowls.
“If I may ask, how did your husband pass?”
She stops for a moment and sighs, “He was attacked by a bear, he survived and then passed from his injuries a few days later.” There’s an awkward silence as she places bowls in front of me and Bea. She puts a tiny bit of stew in Bea’s bowl and a bigger serving in mine. 
“I’m so sorry.”
“He was extremely optimistic. So am I, I guess. I thought I’d be a little wife in the garden and writing the next great novel.” She smiles to herself as if thinking of a fond memory.
“That sounds like a nice life. But I’m not sure this area is the place for that.” I take a small sip of the stew.
“I see that now. My husband and I were raised with a silver spoon in Chicago.”
“Are you going to go back?”
“No, like my husband I’m very hardheaded when it comes to giving up. I believe I’ll get through this. Especially now with your help.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re willing to give it a fair shot.” There was a soft knock on the door. Charlotte looks at the door confused and I sigh. “He was faster than I thought,” I mumble.
Charlotte gets up and opens the door slowly. “Oh. Mr. Morgan come in.” She opens the door wider and he walks in while taking off his hat. His eyes look a little red and puffy but he tries to hide at as his eyes land on both me and Bea. 
“Daddy!” Bea jumps from her chair and runs to Arthur with her arms wide.
“Hi, little Bea. Let me talk to your Mama and then we’ll play, okay?” 
Charlotte takes Bea’s hand and leads her to the table. “How about we finish our food while the talk, yes?” Bea smiles and follows her willingly while I step out on to the porch. 
Arthur follows and shuts the door behind him. He takes my hand and we sit on the bench that sits on the porch. There is a long silence before he clears his throat. “After Mary left me I met a waitress named Eliza. I don’t believe we ever had any feelings between us, it was more of a one night stand. She was a young girl I never thought it would mean nothin’. But I found out later she was pregnant. His name was Issac. I tried to step up and be a father. I would visit every month and stay for a few days. Leave them some money... Then one day I arrived and there were two crosses outside the house… And I knew they were gone.” Arthur gets quiet. I squeeze his hand.
“Arthur, I…” I can feel tears starting to build up.
“Don’t say you’re sorry. I should have told you.” His arms wrap around me as he pulls me into a hug. I hug him back and kiss his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose you two like I lost them.”
“You won’t lose us, Arthur…”
The door cracks open and Bea’s little face peeks out, “My food is done.” She mumbles.
“Good girl,” I smile as she runs and sits between me and Arthur.
“Is your talk done?” She asks him.
“Yeah, I just had to say sorry to Mama, I was bad earlier.” She looks at him a bit shocked. “I love you, Y/N.”
I smile and lean over to give him a quick kiss, “I love you too.”
_______________
I refused to go to the camp when Arthur asked. I didn’t want Bea around my father or Micah. Arthur sighed and looked out over the lake we were sitting at. Bea was passed out in Arthur’s lap snoring softly. Her soft dark hair felt like silk as I combed her hair from her face.
“Well, where you gonna go?”
“Maybe Luka’s home… I don’t feel safe around my father and I really don’t think you should go back either.”
Arthur scratches the scar on his chin and sighs, “I have to do that damn job with Micah and Bill.”
“Do you what Dutch is planning?” 
“No… and I’m really worried about it.” We look at each other quietly. “If the time comes you take Bea and run.”
“What about you?” I could see the sadness in his eyes.
“I’ll join you when I can safely get away.”
“Arthur no, if we run we are doing it together. I won’t leave you.” 
He leans in and kisses me softly before pulling back and smiling. “I love you so damn much. But if it comes down to me or you…. It’s always going to be you.”
“Arthur…”
“Don’t Arthur me… Do you understand me? This thing,” He points in the direction camp would be, “it’s all over. We gotta think about how to give Bea her best chance at life, even if that means she’s going to have only one parent.” 
He reaches forward and wipes a tear I didn’t know I had. “Well… let’s just try to get away together, okay?” He smiles and nods before standing and shifting Bea so she was laying on his shoulder. 
I take her and give her a soft squeeze before turning towards Suzie. “Promise you’ll be safe on that job?” I ask once more.
“I will,” He waves towards me as he climbs Athena. “So you’ll be in Saint Denise?” I nod as I get comfortable on Suzie. “Be safe please.”
“I will.” 
___________
I spent four days at Luka’s home. And in those four days, I didn’t hear from Arthur once. I started to get extremely worried until I heard steps on the front porch making me run and swing the door open. 
Arthur smiled as his shoulder relaxed and he pulled me into a tight hug and a long kiss. I instantly melted from his warmth. His rough lips smiled under mine. I wanted to take in his familiar scent but all I could smell was… Smoke? 
I pull back and scrunch my nose. “Why do you smell like smoke?”
Arthur looks away guilty and scratches his chin, “Well…”
“Arthur Morgan what did you do?”
“Well, quite a bit happened over the past few days. I did that job with Micah, I helped Rainsfall again actually twice… and,”
“And?” 
“John and I blew up a bridge…”
“You what?”
“Dutch wants to rob a train.”
“Y’all are too old to be trying to pull that kind of shit Arthur!” He chuckles a bit as he tries to calm me down.
“When are you gonna rob this supposed train?”
“In a few days. Dutch is trying to help the Wapiti tribe.” 
“Why?”
“He says he feels for them, but I think he’s just gonna get those boys killed.”
I sigh, “Where is he?”
“He went to help them mess with some soldiers.”
I groan and turn in to the house. “Luka.” 
Luka peeks out from his study. “Can you watch Bea? I have to get my father out of trouble.”
“Of course.” Before he even finishes I shut the door and hurry for Suzie with Arthur close behind.
“Y/N, these are US Army, I don’t think you should be getting involved.”
“I shouldn’t. But lets at least try to lengthen my father’s inevitable doom.”
Arthur smiles and joins me as we ride off.
31 notes · View notes
the-awkward-outlaw · 4 years
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While I love all the smut, I crave for drama to happen between Arthur and reader. I loved the jealous Arthur post you've written and the bits of drama in your fanfic but how will he handle if the reader is one who is jealous and it leads into a heated argument, where the reader almost breaks up with him? Or vice versa.
Okay, this was supposed to be short, but I just wrote ten pages for this. God, why couldn’t I have had this motivation in college! Anyways, hope you like it!
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You’ve been at this stupid ball in Saint Denis for a little over an hour. The mayor of the city was throwing it for the Italian big suit that kidnapped Jack. You were suspicious about the whole thing immediately. Why in the hell would the man who kidnapped Jack and then returned him invite Dutch and the others to a ball? Definitely strange, but it was above you when it came to information. Dutch and Hosea explained to you and Tilly that they wanted you both to come in order to help them blend in a bit more with the crowd. Easier to pick up on contacts and potential future schemes. 
You’ve always hated balls. Having to dress up, look perfect in order to impress people you’ll never like anyways. You’d take an old, dirty pair of jeans and work shirt anyday over all these damn layers. There couldn’t be a worse torture than this. 
You’re waiting in the courtyard while Dutch and Arthur meet with this Bronte man. Hosea and Bill are mingling in the crowd, Tilly’s getting involved with a group of young men who seem to find her interesting. Dutch told you to go mingle as well, but that isn't your thing. You don’t “mingle”. 
You head over to the banquet tables where fruits, cakes and other delicacies are being offered. You hope Arthur will come down soon. You’ve been involved with him for quite some time now and things couldn’t be going better. He’s the perfect companion. You couldn’t design a better man. His only flaw is his insecurities in himself and it sometimes tends to make him a bit jealous. Not that you mind. You get jealous when passing women eye him hungrily. 
When you’re standing next to the table, you grab a glass of champagne and are about to ask the man behind the table for a piece of cake when you hear your name being called. You turn and see not Arthur, but a man you haven’t seen since you were fairly young. His name immediately springs into your mind. Benjamin Dowel. When you were fourteen, you lived in the same town as him and held a massive crush on him. He never knew this of course. Most of the teen girls in town had a thing for him, you were just another face in the crowd. But your relationship back then had been different. You were close friends through your teens until his father got a job in Saint Denis and his family moved down here. You wonder quietly how he wound his way into such an illustrious event as this. 
“Y/N!” he says again, stopping from you only a few feet away. You smile and then notice his suit. White jacket and shirt, white bow tie and black dress pants. Exactly like all the other waiters. 
“Benjamin!” you say, ignoring his position. “Oh my God, how many years has it been? You look great!” And he does look great. His ears aren’t nearly as large and his skin’s cleared up. It doesn’t help that he’s got a pleasant square shape to his shoulders, though that could be the jacket. He’s still handsome with his dark hair and eyes, plus his smile is still enough to make any woman swoon. It’s no surprise he’s even more attractive now than he was all those years ago. 
“Y/N!” he says, gesturing to you. “You look… wow, you look great!” 
You blush and clasp your hands. “Thanks. So… you’re a waiter here?” 
“Yeah.” He goes on to tell you that when he turned 18, his father demanded he get his own job, so he found a position working as a waiter at the saloon, but would work events like this. He’s been doing it for nearly ten years now as it is good work and pays well enough. 
For the next little while, you and Benjamin continue to talk and reconnect. You’re reminded why you had a crush on him for so long. He’s sweet, observant, funny and has an unwaverable sense of loyalty to his father. You’re constantly aware that Arthur’s around here somewhere and he’d be furious if he saw you flirting with this guy. However, he has no room to talk. You know that if Mary called on him again, he’d be off to see her faster than you could blink. 
You’ve always been jealous of Mary. She treated Arthur horribly and yet he let her keep a hold of him that you’ve never been able to understand. There’s no doubt in your mind that if things went the way Arthur wanted, he’d pick Mary over you. After all, you’d seen her. She’s beautiful, smart and not afraid to voice her opinions. It’s no secret that Arthur views you as just a second choice. He’d rather have you than be alone, but Mary is still his preferred option. That knowledge has always been a sore you’ve worked hard to hide. 
A reasonable amount of time has passed and Arthur hasn’t come to find you. He must be out trying to find the mayor. It’s given you and Benjamin a lot of time to chat. You ask him at one point if he needs to return to work, but he just shrugs and says you’re worth getting fired for. The two of you head off the edge of the courtyard near a nearly empty gazebo. He’s moved much closer to you than you’re almost comfortable with, but you don’t step away. 
“Y/N, can I tell you a secret?” he asks. You nod. “When we were kids, I, uh, I was really sweet on you.” He’s blushing worse than you’ve ever seen and rubbing the back of his head. 
You blush too. “Oh, Benjamin. Why didn’t you ever tell me?” 
“Because I knew there was no way you felt the same. And we were such good friends. I didn’t want to ruin that.” 
“Well, you should have,” you smile. “I was sweet on you too.” 
He smiles again, almost as though he couldn’t believe it. His hands come up and settle just above your elbows. He squeezes lightly and moves even closer. 
“You were always pretty,” he whispers, “but now you’re damn near radiant.” He leans down and places a soft kiss on your lips. It’s so sudden that you’ve no time to react, no chance to tell him about you and Arthur. Plus you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t always been curious what his lips feel like. 
You’re waiting for that spark though, now that he’s kissing you. Instead, you feel nothing. Not like when you first kissed Arthur. When that happened, there was definitely something there. But with Benjamin, there’s not even the sense of remorse or guilt. Just nothing. 
You pull away. “Benjamin, I… I can’t. You’re a great guy and my closest friend growing up, but-”
You’re cut off by the sound of breaking glass. The two of you turn and see Arthur stomping away, everyone else watching him, and a broken champagne glass only a few yards from you. Shit, there’s no question he witnessed what just happened. 
“I have to go,” you say, squirming out of Benjamin’s grasp. You chase after Arthur, calling his name, but he doesn’t respond. You see him in the darkness heading off the mayor’s property and towards the swampy pond, its banks dotted in manicured flowers.
“Arthur!” you call again as he stops near the water. He turns to you and his eyes are angry and betrayed. Your stomach drops, but you run up to him anyways. 
“Arthur, let me explain. I didn’t mean-” 
“You didn’t mean for me to see that shit, am I right?” he snarls. 
“No, that’s not what I was going to say. He kissed me, not the other way around.” 
“Who is that feller anyways?” 
You sigh and explain how you know Benjamin. Arthur’s eyes darken further. 
“So he’s your ‘what if’ guy, am I correct?” he demands. 
“I… I guess so. Arthur please, what he did was the last thing I wanted to happen. You know I’d never cheat on you.” 
“Do I?” 
You’re taken back by his response and a little offended. “Yes, Arthur you do. You know I’d never betray your trust and I know, or at least I hope, I have the same courtesy from you.” 
“And what the hell does that mean?” 
“You know exactly what it means, Arthur!” you say, your temper flaring. “Don’t lie to me and say that if that Mary didn’t say ‘Oh Arthur, I need you’ that you wouldn’t go galloping off to her. We both know that’s exactly what you’d do. I ain’t stupid, Arthur.” 
He glowers down at you, his jaw tight. “That ain’t fair, Y/N! You know that ain’t the way it is-” 
“Yes it is, Arthur! I know for a fact that I’m better than you being alone, but if things were different, you’d pick her. A thousand times over and over again! So don’t you dare tell me that it isn’t fair!” 
“You always been jealous of Mary,” he hisses. “You always suspected the worst of me whenever her name is even mentioned.” 
“And have you proven me wrong, Arthur? In Horseshoe Overlook, you went tromping off to her. It didn’t matter we’ve been together for over a year, you still went to her. And then what did you do? You lied to me, said you were just going off to tell her to stop pestering you. But I know for a fact you went in hopes she’d take you back!” 
“And how the hell would you know that?” 
“Because I followed you, Arthur! Forgive me for being suspicious, but I had to know for sure. I know your past with her and so I doubted you were going to tell her goodbye. And guess what? I was right! You went chasing after her brother hoping that she’d see how good of a man you are and want you back again.” 
“You seriously followed me? Well so much for us having a trusting relationship!” he roars.
“Yeah, I know it was a shit move on my part, but like I said, I’ve always known you’d choose her over me. I know if she ended up saying she actually wanted you back, you’d have come back to me and said things were over. I know I’m not a prize, Arthur!” 
You’re crying at this point and you’re hurt and upset. Not once has Arthur said you were wrong, that you were what he wanted. You can tell by the look in his eyes he’s not planning on contradicting you either. 
“It’s not fair,” you go on, more quietly this time, “for you to still be pining for Mary and for me to not have anyone else in case this doesn’t work. You have no idea how much it hurts to know you still love her and to know you’d just toss me aside so easily the moment she says your name.” 
You wipe your cheeks, waiting for him to say something. His face is still dark, his eyes glaring at you. “Yeah, but I don’t go around kissin’ people from my past. Especially in front of you. What you just did hurts too, Y/N.” 
His words are enough to confirm your fears. He loves Mary more than he’ll ever love you. Nothing you can do or say can change that. 
“You know what, Arthur?” you finally say. “We’re done. I’m not going to compete for your affections. Not with some silly woman like Mary who isn’t even around. It’s not fair to me for you to be jealous and for me to just be okay with you wanting Mary. I can’t do it anymore.” 
His eyes widen. “Y/N, no. Ya don’t need to do this.” 
“Yes I do, Arthur. I’m never going to have you the way I want, so I’m not going to try anymore. It’s over. I’ll move my things out of your room back at Shady Belle.” 
Before he has the chance to say anything further, you run off towards the street. You should be going back to Dutch and the others, it’d be the easiest way for you to get back to camp, but Arthur will surely be there too. You can’t bear to be around him anymore, so you wander the streets for a moment until you see the other guests’ horses lined up, waiting for their masters. The boy watching over them is napping, so you pick the horse farthest from him and canter off. You don’t care that the boy is calling and hollering for you to come back. You have to get away. 
When you’re back in camp, you head immediately up to your shared room. Or what was your shared room. There, you strip out of this stupid dress and tear off the jewelry. You leave them on the chair near the table. They were gifts from Arthur; you don’t want them anymore. You change quickly back into your everyday clothes and quickly pack up your belongings. 
You head outside and towards the two wagons where the other girls sleep. When you first joined the gang, there wasn’t really any room for you, so you slept under the wagons. It was actually kind of nice because it was covered from the elements and you didn’t have another person on either side of you. You stuff your belongings under the wagon again and roll out your bedroll. Mary-Beth asks what you’re doing, but you wave her off, not really in the mood to explain what just happened. 
When your things are set out the way you like, you’re not really tired enough to go to bed, plus you’re still hurt and angry. You also know Arthur’s likely to come find you and want to talk, but that’s the last thing you want. You head off to the boathouse behind the manor and sit on a rickety chair you’ve seen Strauss occupying multiple times. 
It’s late in the night when you hear the sounds of the coach rolling back in and Dutch’s loud voice carries over to you, though you can’t really make out what he’s saying. Your stomach tightens almost painfully as you worry about if anyone will tell Arthur where you’ve gone. An hour passes though and he doesn’t. Finally, you feel safe enough to go and try to get some sleep under your wagon. 
A few very awkward days pass and Arthur still has not tried to talk to you. Now that your anger is finally gone, you feel somewhat hurt that he hasn’t. Even though it was you who broke things off, you didn’t want to. You had to in order to protect yourself, but you still love him. He must be satisfied with things being the way they are. Hell, he’s probably daydreaming about Mary, or worse, he’s actively looking for her. A letter from her came to him the day after you broke up and Arthur’s been running off to the city a lot. 
The other girls try to get you to talk about what’s going on, but you still don’t really want to. Dutch has even approached you and tried to smooth things over, but you wonder if Arthur asked him to. You never saw it, but Hosea spoke to Arthur and gave him a few honest opinions, trying to help him straighten things out as far as how he felt about things. 
Part of you wonders if maybe it’s time to leave the gang. Arthur is such a vital part of it, he’s involved with pretty much everything. You won’t be able to do any jobs anymore without him being involved in some way or another. You come to the decision that you’ll just go off on a hunting trip for a few days. You’ve done it plenty of times before, so Dutch won’t think anything of it. And maybe, if you end up preferring the isolation, you’ll just end up not coming back. 
You pack up your bedroll but leave most of your other possessions behind. Most of them are gifts from Arthur anyways. A picture of some wolves he got from a photographer, another photograph of you and Arthur taken from a few weeks back. You feel a pang when you look at it. He looks so happy. You lay it back down and then crawl out from under the wagon, hop up onto your horse and leave. No one stops you, they all know at this point you and Arthur aren’t together anymore. You secretly despise their mixed looks of disappointment and pity. The likelihood that you’ll ever see any of them again is small. 
Once you’re away from Shady Belle, you gallop north towards New Hanover. You have not enjoyed Lemoyne much. Too hot and humid. You prefer the green and blue hues of the Heartlands. The change of scenery is a welcome relief. The vast open landscape feels incredible. You realize now that you’ve been cooped up in that swamp for too long. You’ve needed this. 
Game is plentiful and you do some hunting, catching a few deer and rabbits. You only take what you can carry on your horse in case you end up not going back. Right now, you don’t want to at all. It feels good to be out here on your own, enjoying the warmth and the light. No one’s around to bicker or perform mindless chatter. In fact, no one’s around at all. It’s all wonderful.
When night comes, you pitch your tent in case it rains. You stock your fire and cook some of the meat. Instead of Pearson’s usual stew, you treat yourself to a can of beans, an apple and some fresh cooked venison. Stars twinkle above you, reminding you of your newly acquired freedom. 
While it’s been nice to be out here on your own and take a few steps back from life with the gang, you find yourself missing company. Particularly Arthur’s. You spent many nights with him out in the wilderness and they ended up being some of the best times. It wasn’t just that you could be as loud as you wanted while fooling around with him, but all the walls between you came tumbling down. You could be yourselves. You find yourself crying again at the thought that it would never happen again. 
Somehow, you end up falling asleep. In the morning, you lie inside your tent, feeling slightly miserable. You don’t know what’s going to happen. You don’t really want to abandon the gang and Arthur, but you don’t know if you can manage to live with them and him like this. You don’t want to end up like John and Abigail, barking angrily at each other at every turn. At least you and Arthur didn’t have a kid together. 
The smell of roasting coffee beans wafts into your tent. Did you make some last night and forget about it? No, you couldn’t have. You never have coffee except early in the day since it keeps you up too long. The thought that some stranger might be in your camp going through your stuff sends a jolt down to your stomach and makes you get up quickly. When you get outside, you find not a stranger, but Arthur. 
He’s kneeling down next to the fire, cooking some fresh meat on your grill. From the percolator you can hear water bubbling a little and steam coming from the spout. That explains the coffee smell. Arthur looks up when you come out, his face blank. Your stomach clenches tighter. He’s probably come to finish the fight. 
“Arthur, I-” you begin, feeling defensive. 
“You ain’t gotta be worried, sweetheart,” he says, his eyes hidden beneath his hat. He pours some coffee into a tin cup and hands it to you. “Why don’t you come sit down?” 
You hesitate and then accept his cup, sitting down on the opposite side of the fire. Having no idea what to say, you take a sip of your coffee. An awkward silence passes between you for a few moments before Arthur finally says something. 
“Y/N, I um, I didn’t come here to beg you to take me back. I ain’t gonna put that kinda pressure on ya. But I did want to try and apologize, but you never gave me the chance at that ridiculous party.” 
“I’ve been in camp with you three days, Arthur. You could have come talk any time.” 
“I know, but I wanted to talk with you alone, but you were always with someone. It was like… I don’t know, felt like ya didn’t want me to.” 
“I didn’t,” you admit. “We said our things at the party, Arthur. There isn’t more to say.” 
He looks down at the fire. “Maybe for you. But please, Y/N, give me the chance to talk?” 
You recognize that he’s asking and not demanding, so you nod. He sighs and rubs his eyes for a moment. 
“What you said about me and Mary. Well, you were right. If she said even the tiniest word, I woulda gone to her. But these past few days without you have been tougher than all the years I spent without Mary. When she broke things off, my heart was broken. But when you broke things off. My heart wasn’t broken, it was just gone. I’ve taken ya for granted, Y/N. And you were right. It ain’t fair of me to accuse you of tryin’ to start things with other men when I’ve kept Mary in the wings for so long.”
Arthur stands up and approaches your side of the fire and sits down. He leaves several inches between you out of respect. “Y/N, I said I wasn’t gonna beg ya to take me back, and I’m not. However, if you wanted to reconsider trying again, I just want ya to know I’ll always be waitin’ for you. I’m willing to leave Mary in my past where she belongs. I guess I’m just hoping you’ll be in my future.” 
You’re trying not to cry again. You know when Arthur’s lying and his voice and just his energy says he’s being as authentic as ever. Your logic is telling you to say no, to leave things off. But that’s always been your problem. You’ve always listened to your brain more than your heart, which was why you were automatically suspicious when his first letter for Mary came. Maybe if you listened more to your heart, things would be different now. 
Arthur sighs again, looking away. “Anyways, I just wanted to set the record straight between us. I understand and I’ll respect your decision.” 
Arthur gets up and starts walking towards his horse, forgetting the meat he left on the grill to cook. If you let him leave now, the door to your future with him will close forever. You can’t let that happen and so you launch to your feet. 
“Arthur!” you wail, running up to him. He turns to be almost knocked off his feet by you throwing your weight at him. Before you can control yourself, you’re sobbing into his chest. He says nothing, but he wraps his arms around you, holding you tight and sets his chin on your head. He’s warm and familiar. You’ve buried yourself into him like this many times. His scent envelopes you, only adding to the range of emotions rushing through you. 
After a few moments, he loosens his hold and pulls you away slightly, giving you the grin that shows his wonky tooth. You love when he smiles like that. He dries your cheeks with his fingers before pulling a loose strand of hair behind your ear. 
“Hey, you’re okay,” he says softly. You sniff and nod, feeling like you must look like a child. His hands find yours, rubbing them softly. “So… I hope it’s not too soon to ask, but-” 
You shake your head and cut him off. “It’s not, Arthur. And yes, I’m willing to try again.” He smiles again and all you want him to do is hold you again. As if reading your mind, he pulls you back into his arms, letting you rest your head into the crook of his neck. His right hand settles on your lower back and his left wraps around your shoulders. 
“You’re too good for me, darlin’, but I’m grateful you’re giving me a second chance. I love you.”
50 notes · View notes
lucidescuella · 4 years
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mellifluous ; javier escuella
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first time writing with an OC and i’m really happy with this!! i want to make this an ongoing thing too ☺ i might of made this a little self-indulgent lmao
word count: 1,778
Aurora had always enjoyed the outdoors. There was something so soothing about the smell of fresh grass and the harmony of wildlife around her. She blames her mother for her love of nature due to the fact that their cabin was so small, so all she could do was play outside, but she truthfully didn’t mind. She remembers how she and her older sisters, Amélie and Violet, would run around the grassy fields until they collapsed from exhaustion, usually followed by a fit of giggles. 
Oh, how she missed that old cabin. It was practically falling apart, but her mother had tried her utmost to make it into a home. That old vase that had been in their family for generations was filled with a new set of flowers every week, resting on the middle of the table. Her mother had a consummate hobby of embroidery that she constantly used to decorate. They didn’t have much, but they had each other. At least, for the time being. 
Presently, she’s surrounded by a group of people who Aurora is unfamiliar with, a mix of gazes full of pity and hushed whispers behind her back. She had taken a liking to Mary-Beth and Tilly, who reminded her of her sisters. Karen was a lot to deal with, but not particularly unkind. The men in the camp seemed to avoid her, as she did to them, though she was sure for different reasons. They appeared to be the type to steer clear of comforting someone, most likely because of the awkwardness, while Aurora avoided them because she never really had experiences with men in her life. Though, Hosea was an exception, a warmth in the swarm of cold that she experienced in the past few weeks. 
When a group of men displayed in black hats rode into her line of sight, Aurora had already had a feeling of dread aching through her entire body. She remembered wondering who the hell could these guys be? No one had ever come onto their hidden land of property before. Calling for her mother and immediately grabbing Violet’s hand, everything after that was a cloudy blur of yelling and gunshots that led up to desperately grasping her limp mother close to her chest, witnessing the light draining from her eyes. She remembered the heavy guilt on her shoulders as she watched her sisters get thrown on the back of a horse, riding off in the distance. She knew what those kinds of men did to girls. 
She was an absolute mess when a man named Arthur found her on a trail on the outskirts of Valentine, covered in blood and dried tears. 
Now, she feels weight on her as she runs her fingers through the grass of Horseshoe Overlook, though a part of her is content with the memories playing through her head. The sunrise had just ended, the mix of pinks and oranges fading out to a faint blue. The sound of people starting to wake up and beginning their day overwhelmed Aurora, but she sat still on her spot on the edge of the cliff, shuffling random rocks beneath her. After a while, Tilly had come down to the shore and began to wash clothes, “Hi there, Aurora. Do you mind if I sit here?”
“Of course not, Tilly.”
Tilly sat on the ground next to her and sighed softly, “It’s been a rough couple of weeks. I don’t think we’ve ever been worked this hard by Miss Grimshaw. She starts to yell when I just sit down.”
“Yeah, she seems very...intense.” In all honesty, Aurora was terrified of her and tried to avoid her at all costs. It seemed like anything could and would set her off, but she wasn’t going to admit that to Tilly.
“That’s one word to describe her.”
Footsteps sounded behind the girls, both turning their heads in slight fear thinking that Miss Grimshaw had overheard and was coming to confront them about it, but they were relieved to see Javier Escuella with a mug of coffee in his hand and a soft smile on his face, “Miss Jackson, Miss Everett. How are you ladies doing today?” 
Tilly returned the smile, “We’re just fine, Mister Escuella. Got any plans for today?”
“Oh, you know, rob a stagecoach, get some leads. Try to keep busy.”
“Same old, same old.” 
Javier chuckled and nodded, turning his head to Aurora who was interested in the ground all of a sudden. She felt like she was intruding on a conversation between two obvious friends, and frankly she just felt that she wasn’t wanted there by most. Little did she know that Javier was intrigued in the mystery that was Aurora Everett. As soon as he caught sight of her striking red, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes that held a substantial amount of pain, he knew that he had to get to know her more. The whole gang had known what had happened to her and had taken some sort of pity on her, though that didn’t get in the way of them making it clear that if she wanted to stay, she would need to do some type of work to earn her keep. 
She had understood, but that didn’t stop her from dreading it.
Javier could see that the girl was feeling closed off from the group and decided to take action. After all, when he first joined the group, Dutch did everything he could do to make him feel welcome. “Miss Everett? Since Sean has been rescued, we’re throwing a little party tonight in celebration. Maybe you’d want to join us.”
Aurora felt a little scared of the spotlight put on her, but she pushed it down as best to her abilities, “Uh, what do you do at these kinds of parties?”
“We drink a little, sing songs. It’s not a huge thing, but it’s a lot of fun.”
“I-...sure. I’ll join...”
“Great! Can’t wait. I’ll see you guys tonight.”
Tilly waved a goodbye at the man before smiling at Aurora, “I can’t wait for tonight! Maybe you’ll even feel up to singing a song of your own.”
Though she knew that Tilly was teasing her, her heartbeat picked up, “O-oh, I don’t think so. I don’t think I’m ready for all of that.”
“Oh, of course. We can just lie low, if you want. I would avoid Karen if you want to do that, though.” 
By the time night rolled around, Aurora was done with the list of chores given to her by Mary-Beth. She was exhausted and really didn’t feel up to a party anyway, but she figured that she was going to be around these people for a while, and needed to make good trust with them. Maybe that trust will start with this party. Dutch’s gramophone was blasting through the camp just before the party started, and while she enjoyed the reminded memory of her very own gramophone back home, she didn’t favor the choice of opera that Dutch seemed to like. 
Finally people started to gather, and she sat with a woman named Sadie Adler who was also rescued by the gang. As horrible as it sounds, she was almost relieved to have someone who could relate to her, to not feel alone. She really couldn’t tell if Sadie appreciated her there or not, but she didn’t say anything, so she assumed it was alright. Aurora had heard from Abigail that her husband died at the hands of a group called the O'Driscolls, known for their violent actions against, well, everyone. Part of her suspected that this was the group who was responsible for the death of her mother and the taking of her sisters, but she refrained from asking questions, more so because she didn’t know if she could get through the story without breaking down completely. 
Javier had seen her sit away from the group, clearly wanting to keep a distance. He wasn’t going to force her to join everyone, who was a little more rowdy tonight due to the fact that this was their first celebration in awhile, but he did want to try to get her to open up more. He bid a goodbye to the men gathered around the campfire and grabbed his guitar, searching for the girl he was, for some reason, interested in. He thinks it’s something about the way she appeared almost like a ghost. Where Sadie Adler slowly mourned the loss of her husband, Aurora efficiently worked the day along and kept to herself, usually with a blank look on her face. Almost like she wasn’t there. 
 He took a seat next to her on the outer part of camp. She jumped a bit when she was abruptly knocked out of her train of thought, Javier holding out a hand to try to calm her down, “Lo siento, querida. Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The redhead sighed in alleviation, “No, it’s fine. My fault.”
Javier jerked his head to the side, displaying confusion, “How is that your fault?”
“I don’t know. I zone out a lot.”
“Well, that’s hardly your fault, querida. I noticed you weren’t at the party, any reason why?”
Oh, god. Aurora thought. They’re going to think that I’m distant and untrustworthy, if they don’t think that already. 
“Um, yeah. Sorry, I just really didn’t feel up to it, I guess.”
Javier nodded, and brought up his guitar to rest in his lap. He glanced at her and found her already looking at him, quickly breaking the gaze, settling it on the sight of her fidgeting with her hands. A warmth crept into his chest, a soft smile visible on his face, “If it’s alright, I would like to play here. I could do without the drunk payasos around.”
“Yeah, that’s alright.”
And with the sound of a mix of people slurring drunkenly and some heading off to bed, it all faded with the soft strumming of Javier’s guitar. An unknown melody had flooded her ears and she hesitantly snuck a look at him, contentment seeming into her veins. She hadn’t felt that in what seemed like an eternity. He had felt the stare of the girl and glanced up, meeting her gaze, and throwing a small smirk at her.
While Aurora had a long way to go to feel okay again, she couldn’t deny the comfort she felt with the man next to her.
lo siento, querida: i’m sorry, darling
querida: darling
payasos: clowns (male)
i used google translate like an idiot, so please tell me if you notice anything inaccurate!!
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whirlybirbs · 5 years
Note
Ok ok hear me out, so we know Arthur reads Miss Turner’s journal but what if Miss Turner gets her hands on Arthur’s?
a/n: oh god i gave myself a cavity writing this. it’s long, it aches. arthur takes miss turner fishing. she catches him drawing her. they make a deal, he reads her journal. this is pure romance, folks. a slow burn. it hurts. here’s the masterlist!
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He’s gone for two whole days.
Two. Only two. 
But, with the way Miss Grimshaw’s been harping on you and the other girls, you can’t help but feel like it’s been a damn week. You swear your fingers are worked to the bone from the amount of stitching, washing and cooking you’ve been doing. 
It’s early evening when Arthur returns to camp from the hunting trip (alongside Lenny and Bill and Charles with a boar on each horse). He gives you a good excuse to get out for a while -- Miss Grimshaw and Dutch and Hosea don’t ask questions when it comes to the blonde outlaw. It’s just... one of those things. They trust Arthur.
Bill nudges Lenny. They’d joked on the trip how Miss Turner was makin’ Arthur soft. This is a show of it. 
“Please tell me you’re not sick ‘n’ tired of the great outdoors just yet, Mr. Morgan.”
The sound of your voice meets his ears and Arthur can’t help but grin; he moves slowly, then, lifting the bounty of the hunt from Sugarcube’s saddle and sparing you an amused look. 
“An’ if I am?”
“I’ll drown myself in the lake.”
Oh, you are quick.
He laughs -- loud and true -- and strides over to drop the carcass by Pearson’s butcher’s block. The tenderloin will make good stew. Lenny and Bill smirk at the way you watch him, enjoying the fact they’re right -- no amount of denying can hide the way Arthur brightens with you by his side. 
He leans, propping himself against the table and folding his arms. “Why?”
“Fishing.”
“Fishing.”
You roll your eyes at him, slapping his bicep in good-humor. “Jack was sayin’ how good of a teacher you are --”
“Oh,” Arthur croons, “Was he now?”
“-- And I would love to learn how.”
Arthur grins, looking mischievous. He kicks off from the table, pulling a sigh and trying to make it seem like this isn’t the nicest thing in the world -- a pretty girl like you, seeking him out for some alone time and treating him like he’s some sought after company. He tries to hide his cards, hide the pep in his step.
Mary-Beth, Tilly, and Karen can see it from a mile away.
“They didn’t teach you fishing in those high-society classes a’ yours?”
“Oh,” you chirp, “Yes, fishing and hunting were right alongside piano an’ singing.”
“Singin’?”
His brows quirk. He turns, walking backwards towards Sugarcube with an piqued interest. Blue eyes scale your face. You’ve gone sheepish. It’s rather adorable.
You clamp your mouth shut, averting your gaze. “I didn’t --”
“An’ piano -- my, my, you really are a lady --”
You shove him backwards with a blooming smile on your face, earning a deep laugh from the outlaw as he nears his horse. The Palamino Thoroughbred whinnies, bowing her head up and down in greeting. You pat her muzzle gently, cooing a bit as Arthur moves to his satchel. 
“I’ve got an extra pole you can use,” he says, “C’mon, then, daylights wastin’.”
He offers a hand, hoisting you up as you swing to sit side-saddle. He’s up in-front of you in a flash, spurs tinkering as he urges Sugarcube into a light trot. Your arms snake around his waist, palms resting against the curve of his sides. His gun holsters rattle at the pace.
You prop your chin up on his shoulder.
“Miss Grimshaw keepin’ y’ busy?” 
His voice resounds through him, deep and warm, and you can feel it in your chest. It’s satisfying.
“I would be lyin’ if I said she wasn’t the reason I wanted to get away --”
“And here I was, thinkin’ y’ wanted t’ spend some time with little ol’ me.”
You cop a grin. “You aren’t my type, remember, Arthur?”
You can feel the way his laugh rattles his ribs. His smile is contagious. The sun is still hanging in the sky, when you come to rest at a spot away from camp on the lake. The water is dancing with a yellowish-blue from the clouds above and you’re content to just... be. 
“C’mon, then. Time t’ put you t’ work.”
You grin, happily accepting his hand and hopping off of Sugarcube. 
“Now, fair warning --”
“You aren’t much of a fisherman?” you chirp, quirking a brow, “Dutch told me.”
Arthur suddenly goes sheepish, cheeks striking a rosy color as he grumbles and itches the back of his neck -- that damn story of him, twenty-one and lying about catching three, huge large-mouthed bass for dinner (when really he’d just gone and bought them) has continued to haunt him for the last fifteen years. You, though, seem to get a kick out of it and fall into a spur of giggles.
He wonders what the hell else Dutch has told you.
“Yea, yea,” he rumbles, “I was young --”
“Mhm,” you say, taking the offered pole from him, “Go ahead, make some more excuses --”
Arthur shakes his head, laughing. “You keep that up, I’m gunna have t’ ask you t’ sing.”
“Just because I had lessons,” you say as you venture closer to the water, “Doesn’t mean I was any good.”
“Fair enough... I’m still gunna make y’ sing.”
“If I’ve had a drink,” you raise a finger, “Then, maybe.”
“My, the fair lady drinks?” he chirps, “Jus’ when I’d thought I’d seen it all.”
You shove his shoulder, rolling your eyes as he moves to settle the tackle box between you both. He bends, groaning a bit, before clicking open the latch and beginning to dig through the baits. After a moment, he finally finds the container he was looking for.
Scrawled across the top reads ‘live worms’. 
You pull a face.
Arthur cracks open the container and snags his pole, straddling it between his legs and snagging the line between his fingers.
“Hold this...” he blinks up at you, “What?”
“They’re... oh, god, they’re wriggling.”
Arthur swears you’re the cutest damn thing alive -- he’d kiss you if he had the courage. Instead, he grins and shakes his head. He reaches in, moving to tie the worm around his hook before taking the container from your hands and snapping it shut.
“I’ll show you,” he says, “Then, you can have at it, alrigh’?”
And so he does. He casts the reel with a long throw and you watch, listening to the fweeeeeeeeeep, plunk! of the bait flying out and hitting the water. It’s nice -- quiet and peaceful and calm. Then, his rod pulls.
He reels in the fish and holds it up. 
“If it’s small, you can just...” he tosses the fish, “Let ‘em go.”
You fumble at first; the worm slips from the hook a few times while you try and skewer it -- and the first cast you have is atrocious. You nearly take Arthur out with your whipping of the pole. But, with a well-guided hand, Arthur pulls your arm back and shows you the right way to cast. 
You try to ignore how close you are, back pressed right to his chest.
He wanders off after that, leaving you to wiggle the pole every now and again and reel in and cast out. You lose yourself in thought for a bit, focused on the feeling of the rod in your hands and the breeze coming through. 
The sun has started to set in the west, painting the sky and lake all kind of shades of citrine and rose. The world has a rose-tinted glow at this hour. The rustling of the leaves on the trees is like a lullaby and on the far end of the lakeside, you can see a family of white-tailed deer grazing happily.
The buck raises it’s head and you smile.
It’s moments like these that make you thankful for leaving home behind. Some days, it hurts. But, out here -- free and true, you remember how nice it is to just breathe and be and live. No money, no rules, no manners. Just... the wild.
You turn your head, catching Arthur Morgan mid-study.
He ducks his eyes immediately, caught in the act of sketching you -- from his perch on the rock to your right, he quickly moves to snap close the new leather-bound journal you’d given him earlier in the week. 
“Mr. Morgan --”
“No, no,” he says, dropping his pencil into his shirt pocket, “Don’t you start --”
You reel in, propping up the rod on a nearby rock and abandoning it for his sheepish look -- he tosses his head back, sighing loudly; you grin, eyes on fire with something dizzying. You climb onto the rock beside him, leaning to try and snag the journal quickly -- but Arthur is fast and he knows this game. After all, he’d pulled the same trick on you all those weeks ago to read your journal.
“Aah, aah, ah.”
“Let me see.”
“No,” he rumbles, “It’s my journal. I’ll draw whatever the hell I please.”
“... You were drawin’ me.”
“Maybe,” he shrugs, leaning back as you reach again, “An’ you ain’t gonna see it.”
Courage surges in your chest. Rumor had it Arthur was a bit of an artist around camp. You’d spotted him here and there scribbling in that journal. You’d always assumed it was chicken-scratch. But... with the way he’d just been looking at you... that was a practiced look. 
You hold your breath.
And then it all rushes out.
“How about -- if you let me see it, I’ll let you read any page from mine,” you say slowly, “Anything is fair game -- Though my poems aren’t very good.”
“... Poems?”
Consider his curiosity piqued. 
You stick your hand out.
Arthur blinks.
“Deal?”
“Christ, sure, alrigh’.”
It’s childish, he knows, but it fills his chest with an exciting buzz that he hasn’t felt in a long time. This little game -- a tit for tat -- has his hands sweating a bit as he shakes your hand under the setting sun and -- reluctantly -- pulls open his journal and flips to the most recent spread.
He hands you the journal and your jaw drops.
To say he’s good... well, that wouldn’t do his skill justice. He’s wonderful -- and the full page sketch of you fishing has your heart hammering all the way back to camp. He’s captured you in an idyllic way, hair braided and hat hanging low; the caption beside it reads your initials with a faint heart beside them. The page opposite has a few smaller sketches -- of Sugarcube, of a boar, of a few flowers, all accompanied by the flourished script of his handwriting. 
It’s beautiful.
It’s art.
“... It’s not th’ best I’ve ever done --”
You gawk, a breathless laugh whisked from your chest as you blink up at him beside you. You cradle the journal with a newfound sense of treasure. 
When you meet his gaze, you’re speechless.
You just... flounder, a bit like a fish, for a moment.
“No one’s ever... drawn me before.”
It’s all you can say. The gesture of him going so far as to make you a home in his personal journal... is awfully romantic.
Arthur swallows, taking the journal from you and fishing the pencil from his pocket in a way that screams urgency -- his cheeks has gone rosy from the attention and he can’t help but drop his gaze from yours.
It’s like staring into the sun.
“I... I could finish it if you’d like,” he says slowly, “You can have it.”
“... Really?”
“I have others -- I mean, in... uh, I have other drawings.... in my other journal --”
“Of me...?”
You damn fool, Arthur Morgan!
He gawks. “Uh... Well...”
You can’t help the hopelessly sweet look that blooms on your face. Gently, you urge him on, hand meeting his wrist as he tries to figure out the right words to say.
“...You do, don’t you?”
“Maybe,” he says, quickly changing the subject and breaking the moment to spare his heart, “But, I believe you have yer end of th’ deal to keep, Miss Turner.”
As he turns back to his sketching, you laugh and stand -- Sugarcube has your satchel in one of her saddle bags and you make quirk work on digging out your own journal from the depths. It’s nearly full, pages tattered and weathered from it’s use. It’s smaller than Arthur’s, not as thick, but the pages are teeming with content in delicate script.
Arthur’s shading is cut short by your return to the rock.
You offer him the notebook, eyes set ahead of you.
“One page,” you say, raising a finger, “You get to read one page.”
Arthur’s signature boyish grin is back, blooming as he tucks his pencil between the pages of his journal and sets it on the rock behind him. He takes your journal gingerly, thumb gracing your name engraved on the front of it. Immediately, a pressed flower falls out the front.
It’s lilac.
He hands it your way and your fingers brush like the kiss of a match.
Blue eyes dart to yours, measuring the sheepishness on your face. 
You’re not surprised when his fingers flip to the most recent entry, written four days ago -- the night after you and him had righted your wrongs on the ride into Rhodes. It’s almost like he knows the writing there will bloom the same amount of anxiousness your admiring of his sketches did. 
He clears his throat and you cry, throwing your hands over your face.
“Oh god, no, Arthur, don’t read it out loud --”
“ -- It was worth it, the anxiety of tucking a whole journal under by sleeve in that market stall in Saint Denis. I’ve never stolen a damn thing in my life. But, Mr. Morgan deserves something good. He smiled, big and wholesome and warm, when I gave it to him and I think that’s how I like him best; he tries so hard to be bitter, not realizing how easily me and the rest of the camp would kill to see him smile like that again --”
You lunge, hands pulling the journal from him as you shriek: “One page!”
Arthur’s face is split into one of those earth-shattering grins, one that you try your best to remember, when you snatch the journal from him -- your face is flooded with embarrassment, wishing maybe he’d picked a more poetic paragraph to read. You try and brace for the jeers, but instead, he drops his head and nods. 
A beat of silence.
Your words settle neatly against his ribs. 
“You mean that?”
“... Well, yes,” you breathe, clutching the notebook close to your heart, “Every word.”
“...You’ve never stolen?” he says after a beat, face screwed up, “... Ever?”
“... God, Arthur,” you cry, laughing loudly and shoving his arm, “That’s what you --- That is the one thing you focus on?!”
He grins again, chuckling at your reaction -- his ability to not make you feel like a fool is astounding. For a few moments, you both just sit there, basking in the glow of one another under the sunset. The clouds have turned inky purple in the wake of the sharing, breeze turning cooler off the lake as the camp’s fires begin to glow in the early evening light. 
He’s a coward, though, and as much as Arthur Morgan wants to kiss you under the blinking stars, he doesn’t.
Instead, he hops down from the rock and offers you a hand; ever the gentleman.
“Best we head back t’ camp,” he drawls, “It’s nearly supper time.”
You nod, noting the permanent smile on his face. “Miss Grimshaw’s probably wondering where her favorite laundry girl went.”
Arthur gathers the fishing equipment and you tuck both of your journals back into Sugarcube’s satchels. Upon packing up, Arthur offers a hand again and you find yourself sitting side-saddle as he hauls himself upwards. 
Your hold on him is bit more confident, now. 
Your nose brushes his shoulder. Arthur’s hand pats yours on his hip. 
“Arthur?”
“Yea?”
“... Thanks for drawin’ me.”
You can’t see his face. He’s thankful. His smile is lovesick.
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matteredloyaltyaa · 4 years
Text
really LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES.
repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck !
TAGGED. I stole it. TAGGING. Go for it. lol
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FULL NAME : Arthur M/organ NICKNAME : A handful. English, Cowboy/Cowpoke, Black Lung, etc. Common aliases are Tacitus Kilgore and Arthur Callahan. AGE : 36. BIRTHDAY : January 25th, 1836. ETHNIC GROUP : Caucasian. NATIONALITY : American. LANGUAGE / S : English, primarily. Knew a handful of Welsh thanks to his father, but it’s faded with disuse.  SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Bisexual, somewhat closeted.  ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Biromantic, somewhat closeted. RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Verse dependent, single-ship with @notanoutlaw in most. CLASS : Lower/working HOME TOWN / AREA : Arthur just mentions he was born “up north”, I headcanon around the Oregon area, possibly California due to his mother’s favorite flower, but it’s uncertain. Though, the place he laments the most about is New Austin, or “out west”.   CURRENT HOME : Transitory, he moves with the gang.  PROFESSION : Outlaw, occasional bounty hunter.
PHYSICAL. HAIR : Light brown, dark blonde in some lights. EYES : Unique eye colour, blue-grey-sorta hazel.  NOSE : Average, dimpled. Scarred from fighting and getting it broken a couple times.  FACE : Somewhat sharp features in the brow and cheekbones, square jaw.  LIPS : Full, can be dry/chapped.  COMPLEXION : Somewhat clear? Hard to tell. Dry, dirt spattered sometimes.  BLEMISHES : Uncertain. SCARS : A handful. Most notable are the one he has on his chin that is most visible with shorter facial hair, one across his nose, and the one left on his shoulder by the O’Driscolls in chapter 3.  TATTOOS : N/A HEIGHT : 6′0, possibly 6′1 WEIGHT : Uncertain, fluctuates.  BUILD : Stocky, broad shouldered and he can be fairly intimidating, especially when his weight is about average or above.  FEATURES : Look above? ALLERGIES : N/A USUAL HAIR STYLE : Right parted, about 3-5 in length. Though, for people who don’t know the system--fairly short, tufts out around his ears and may reach the back of his neck before he cuts it again. USUAL FACE LOOK : Expression wise, his kind of got a resting irritated face, sometimes bored. Rarely clean shaven unless he has to be, usually keeps a fair amount of stubble.  USUAL CLOTHING : I change him too much to say. Tends to keep his heavy navy blue winter jacket, jeans/ranch pants, some sort of button up shirt, and sometimes his tan leather jacket. Tends to keep his hat, however, unless he needs to go without. 
PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Arthur has a mild one of change. He’s adaptable but he’s very sentimental and nostalgic, he will miss “old ways” and previous places. There’s also losing his usefulness, disappointing those who depend on him (much as he will get defensive when it happens). Post-Guarma, he does develop a fear of drowning. It won’t keep him from swimming, but getting swept or held underwater may cause some panic. Post-game au, he does fear about getting sick again and actively avoids doctors.  ASPIRATION / S : Uncertain, just wants to get out of the mess he’s in and eventually just wants a calm existence somewhere. However, once he’s diagnosed with TB, his main goal is getting those who want/will listen to him out of the gang as it starts to fall down. POSITIVE TRAITS : Caring, compassionate (to people he knows, might not be clear on first impression), intelligent (much as he may say the opposite and isn’t exactly book smart), observational, brave, humorous (in certain situations and may be a cover sometimes), friendly (somewhat, changes as he ages), artistic, creative, loyal, etc. NEGATIVE TRAITS : Violent, murderer (doesn’t do it without reason but he knows he’s killed more than he certainly should), defensive, (passive) aggressive, sarcastic, depressive, self-deprecating, selfish, rude (sometimes intentional, sometimes not), conflicted, stubborn, reckless (sometimes, has mellowed out with age but it’s still there), self destructive (sometimes), money-driven (not always a flaw but he’s easily swayed by money). MBTI : ISFJ-T - Turbulent Defender  ZODIAC : Aquarius  TEMPERAMENT : Phlegmatic-Melancholic ANIMALS : I’m not going to take the quiz because the game is very heavy handed with the whitetail buck motif for high honor Arthur. lol VICE HABIT / S : Smoking, drinking, etc. FAITH : Non-religious. GHOSTS ? : Generally, the existence of ghosts isn’t something he completely writes off after he’s witnessed the few in the game, but he’s also hard pressed to admit to believing in them outright. AFTERLIFE ? : Not in any sort of defined sense. He’ll often say he doesn’t believe in one or it won’t be a nice one for him if there is, but he finds himself nervous about the subject once he gets sick.  REINCARNATION ? : He doesn’t know enough about it. ALIENS ? : Not really? Doesn’t really know he’s looking at a UFO when he sees it. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : Don’t start. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : Uncertain. SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : Uncertain. EDUCATION LEVEL : Does not have a formal education on even the basic levels (primary, high school, etc), however Hosea and Dutch have taught him to read and write and he’s learned a handful of things when it comes to survival and his lifestyle. However, he’s not exactly book smart or the “book learnin’ type”. 
FAMILY. FATHER : Lyle M/organ, deceased. MOTHER : Beatrice M/organ, deceased. SIBLINGS : No blood related, but considers John as one along with a couple other members of camp. EXTENDED FAMILY : He has a few uncles, aunts, and cousins, but he’s not in touch. Issac, his son, and his mother, Eliza, who are both deceased. Mary L/inton/Gillis, ex-fiance. (Cain Kennedy, lover - @notanoutlaw) NAME MEANING / S : Arthur - English, “noble, courageous”, Morgan - (and I’m going against what’s been said in fandom) - Celtic/Welsh surname, comes from Old Welsh name Morcant - “mor” as “sea” and “cant” as “circle”.    HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : Uncertain in the game, but it’s been pointed out about King Arthur and also Morgan le Fay, which highlights his struggle with good vs evil themes in his character. 
FAVOURITES. BOOK : Uncertain, mostly non-fiction. MOVIE : -- 5 SONGS : -- DEITY : Doesn’t know enough to give a favorite. HOLIDAY : Christmas, in a way. Not quite for the religious context, but he enjoys the hunting and cooking the gang does to celebrate, singing and talking over fires. He remembers it vividly when he was younger, so it’s stuck with him. MONTH : April-May. SEASON : late spring, early summer. PLACE : He likes most places in wilderness, give him something with a view and he’s good. WEATHER : Sunny, average weather. Not too hot, not too cold. SOUND : Rain, birds, etc. SCENT / S : Again, rain, campfires, etc. TASTE / S : Prefers savory over sweet.   FEEL / S : Weightlessness in his limbs once he’s able to sit/lay down after a long day, fingers in his hair, etc. ANIMAL / S : Horses, dogs, cats, animals. NUMBER : He hasn’t given it much thought. COLOUR : Blues, greens, deeper colours.
EXTRA. TALENTS : Sharpshooting, Arthur’s got impeccable aim and speed when using guns, there’s also his drawing, he’s getting fairly good at tracking, etc. BAD AT : Admitting to mistakes, expressing himself emotionally, adhering to rules, anything overly scientific, etc. TURN ONS : Sense of humor, confidence or self-assurance, kindness and/or compassion, dark hair, etc. TURN OFFS : Hypocrisy (much as he suffers from that himself), cockiness (has a limit before confidence becomes a turn off), excessive or needless cruelty, etc. HOBBIES : Drawing, writing in his journal, hunting, wandering around/sight seeing, etc. TROPES : Anti-Hero/Anti-Villain,The Atoner, The Big Guy, Jerk with a Heart of Gold, Obfuscating Stupidity, etc. AESTHETIC TAGS : Horses, old west, deserts, nature, gun slinging, writing, drawing, photography, etc. 
FC INFO. MAIN FC / S : R/oger Clark, mainly in game icons so I haven’t found a need for one. ALT FC / S : -- OLDER FC / S : -- YOUNGER FC / S : -- VOICE CLAIM / S : R/oger Clark GENDERBENT FC / S :
MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : I actually REALLY enjoy the game’s story line, much as I feel the redemption through death is overplayed and not as deep as people make it out to be. I’d find a way to subvert that or some alternative, but idk. I like the game’s story. lol
Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : Western-y. IDK? The game’s soundtrack is actually really good too so.  Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : I love his development and progression as a character, and even with the trailers where he seemed no more than an angry outlaw there was a part of me that was still “hmm” about writing him. Ultimately, he’s grown to mean a lot to me and I really enjoy writing for him on this blog.  Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4: As mentioned above, Arthur probably has one of the best character progressions I’ve seen in a while imo. Even in the beginning, I went in under the impression that I’d be playing as this outlaw so the violence and gruffness wasn’t too much of a surprise, much as I wasn’t too attached until later chapters in the game because of this. However, as I spent more time playing as him and reading his journal, seeing how he interacts with strangers and people he loves, he has some depth to him and some deep rooted flaws and insecurities that are played very well in the game. He’s probably one of the few character deaths I’ve cried over. lol Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : I have to be truthful, Arthur’s an asshole. lol I didn’t like and still don’t like him from Colter into Horseshoe in behavior and personality, much as it’s lessened from my first play of the game because I know what happens to him and how he grows. However, while he’s not blind to himself and how he acts, he doesn’t think for himself really. Even if he hates debt collecting, he does it for the gang and even tells Strauss he does it for pleasure at a point (sarcastic or not, considering they are talking about Thomas, a man trying to raise money for charity while suffering poverty himself on top of having TB), he does whatever Dutch tells him, among many other things. It’s not until later in the game that the theme of grasping redemption comes into play, and he starts to act and think for himself a little more once things start to spiral. As much as I love him with all my heart, Arthur’s got some deep flaws that are hard to ignore.   Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : HHHhh. I’d say we suffer from similar self-esteem issues, not just in body image but morality of character (much as his are way more complicated than mine jaksfha), we also have a similar sense of humor...Yeah, idk. I’m attached to him as a character and I can relate to him in certain ways, but it’s hard to pinpoint.  Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : Idk, he’s pixels? Though, for the sake of a fun answer, I genuinely don’t know? We can be fairly similar in mannerisms and thought process (at points), but I have no idea if we’d actually get along if by some universe rip we were able to meet.  Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8: I don’t want to get specific, I interact with a lot of interesting characters. Anybody who’s put me out of a comfort zone or forced me to look at Arthur in the different way has definitely stood out. Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : The game itself is a good source, I enjoy putting up lets plays of it in the background sometimes if I’m struggling or just need something that isn’t music. I get more muse putting together blog playlists than playing them, but there’s that, too. Also generally plotting or talking about him can pull some to the forefront. Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : An hour or so, I think?
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monabela · 5 years
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here, have some beer lesbians for @aphrarepairweek2019​! for the first day, prompt magic. I don’t know what this is but at least it’s something? 
show me (this life)
pairings/characters: Belgium (Manon)/Czechia (Kveta)
word count: 1369 summary: The small things in Kveta’s life hold the most magic for her. Of course, the most magical ones are those things her wife does.
It’s the little things.
Among the fast, loud, overwhelmingly large life Kveta leads, it’s the glimpses of the quiet and unassuming, the mundane, that are the most magical. Sometimes, it’s just someone smiling at her as she waits for the underground, or a child waving their toy at her from behind a car window. A biker valiantly making their way through the busy streets of Prague. A couple holding hands, both not wearing gloves despite the chill.
Kveta’s always thought in images; it’s why she became a photographer. When she’s not working on assignment and shooting statuesque models in a chaotic studio, the quiet, magical moments are her favorite thing to capture.
There are pictures scattered all across her home. She imagines they don’t make much sense to most of her visitors, but they’re not for them. There’s only two people living there, and Manon is more than used to Kveta’s idiosyncrasies by now. Besides, it’s not as if she’s not always leaving fabrics everywhere.
(“Aw, look, you’ve covered the picture of your fallen ice cream with—is that denim? Are you designing jeggings now?”
“It’s upsetting, Kveta. Both the ice cream and the implication that I would ever design jeggings.”)
Over the years, Kveta has taken pride in learning more and more of these little things about Manon. When they first met, it was the way she smiled. The curl of her lips always has a mischievous edge to it, and her cheeks dimple when she means it. On their first date, Kveta remembers pulling out a flip phone and taking a picture to commit to memory the way Manon kept fidgeting with the ends of her hair where it curled against her collarbone.
Of course, she found out her phone had flash only at that moment. It worked out.
She draws the line at taking photos of text or chat conversations, otherwise there certainly would have been pictures of the many back-and-forth messages as they found out more about each other while both trying to get a foot in the door in their respective careers, bouncing all over Europe. Manon did run-on sentences well, and it was weirdly endearing to Kveta.
(“I guess those rambling sentences don’t run in the family,” she’d said after meeting Manon’s elder brother, who was stoic as anything and talked in almost utilitarian sentences. Manon had laughed.
“I’ll remind you that you said that when you meet my younger brother.”)
Manon might insist it wasn’t, but Kveta’s quite sure that her learning Czech on the sly was a pretty big thing, and a sign of commitment she’d almost been scared by. The way she can’t entirely get the ř right or sometimes answers the phone in Dutch, however, is another one of those small things Kveta loves about her, if not something she can necessarily take a picture of. It turns out it’s often like that.
Of course, Kveta can’t make head or tails of Dutch, much as she might want to—she does think in images.
(“Honey, ‘cheese cheese windmill’ doesn’t constitute—and you know what, those are the wrong country’s stereotypes anyway, try ‘beer beer fries’.”
“I don’t appreciate your country stealing my country’s stereotypes, Manon.”
“We’re not having the beer argument again.”)
(They always have the beer argument again. It bewilders all of their friends.)
In the mornings, it’s watching Manon put on her makeup and delighting in the knowledge that Kveta is one of the few people who regularly see her without her signature red lipstick. She’s never fussed anymore about Kveta taking pictures of her without it, as long as she doesn’t show them to everyone. She was never planning to, anyway.
Sometimes, Manon tells her about her own little things. That she saw someone helping an old lady across the road, or that Kveta laughed in her sleep before telling someone to fix the ‘clock garage’. Sometimes, they’re on opposite ends of the world and Manon talks about pretty much nothing until Kveta dozes off and her phone slips from her hand. She doesn’t count airport reunions as little things, because even after a significant amount of years together, with a lot of traveling scattered throughout, it still feels like a huge relief to see her again.
And, of course, there was that time at the airport in Brussels when Manon thought it would be a good idea to ask Kveta to marry her. People usually think she’s a little weird shows them her favorite picture of that moment, which is when Manon tripped over the hem of her dress and fell into Kveta, sending them both sprawling to the floor. Manon herself usually responds to this by shrugging exaggeratedly as if to say, ‘This is who I chose to make my wife.’
No one has told the press that the glitzy party they had on the Belgian coast wasn’t actually their wedding, because they’re just famous enough that that was well-reported and they decided they’d rather have something with just their family and close friends instead. Kveta is classifying the whole thing as a small moment by virtue of the intimacy of it, the magic of Manon’s hands trembling ever so slightly when she put the ring on her finger, the way Kveta’s stepbrother had beamed like a proud father through his terrible speech.
(“Is your brother okay? That grin looks painful.”
“It probably is, but he means well.”)
There’s only one picture up in the house of their actual wedding, and it’s a photo of Manon fishing rice out of her cleavage. Manon is very fond of that picture for some reason.
It’s the little things, like introducing her as, ‘Manon, my wife’ and the way Manon never gets the stress on ‘wife’ right in Czech. She might be doing it on purpose. She’s probably doing it on purpose. Kveta likes that about her. She’s not particularly fond of the way she purposefully mispronounces ‘beer’ every time. It’s an easy word!
There’s the way Manon switched out her swing dresses and pencil skirts for jean shorts and a tie-dye top when they went to Prague Pride for the first time, which was in itself pretty magical, but then was even better when she got drunk and started yelling about Belgian beer and Kveta had to drag her away from some angry men in bondage gear. She has some great pictures Manon refuses to look at.
From time to time, Kveta knows, her wife gets homesick. It’s in the way her gaze slides out of the window and lingers on nothing and everything while she idly picks her nails, the way her smile loses a tiny bit of the mischief. She doesn’t know if she’ll ever find the perfect way to make it go away faster, but hopes it helps being there if she can.
There are sparks of magic in the unusual green of Manon’s eyes when she’s just peeking through her lashes after waking up, the creases on her face and the smudge of eyeliner she somehow missed the night before.
She laughs when Kveta kneels over her to try and get the best angle for a picture, attempting to push her off but ultimately giving in, and Kveta always ends up just having to kiss her until she’s fully awake—and she’s never taken pictures of it, but some of her favorite little things are the ways Manon reacts to her when she touches her, how she comes quietly undone at the edges, beautiful and vibrant. That’s hers alone, not even her camera can have that.
Still, she’ll go out into the world, make her way through the tourists at the airport or the haggard commuters on the tram, and live large, and loud, and sometimes quite overwhelming, but Kveta always finds something to ground her. A balloon being carefully protected by the child carrying it, a young man buying flowers for his mother, or just the knowledge that her wife is never far away.
(“I was just thinking about you,” Manon tells her, calling her after a long day in some godforsaken desert when all she needed was to hear her voice. Kveta thinks that might be magic.
“Yeah, me too.”)
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theempressar · 5 years
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Valentine’s Day - A Danielle Mini-fic
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Valentine's Day Some boys kiss me Some boys hug me I think they're ok If they don't give me proper credit I just walk away
Dani woke up with a slow stretch and tapped her foot to the beat.  One of her favorite songs was waking her up today on her retro clock radio with the phone attached.   She felt great in her own skin.  
She remembered what day it was.  The week before was a week of excitement leading up to this most important day in a young girl's life.  She smiled as she kicked her feet over the side of the bed and got up doing the twist in her over-sized football jersey.  
They can beg and they can plead But they can't see the light (that's right) 'Cause the boy with the cold hard cash Is always Mister Right
She thought about her 'Mr. Right.'  Every day had been a special day...just getting to know the boy she once despised when she was a boy herself.  She thought back to those days like a distant memory and shook her head.  He had proven to her that he was kind and caring and had a huge heart.  She thought of his smile.  She smiled and her dimple pressed deep into her cheek.  
She went to her dresser and pulled open the drawer, immediately tossing clothes to the floor and behind her head.  
"Nope...no...not this one....really?"  She said looking for something red.  Anything red.  She knew she should have chosen her outfit the night before but she was too busy daydreaming and trying to get her homework done.  
She danced over to her vanity mirror and admired her body for the umpteenth time.  She just loved the way she looked now...even if her hair was long and messy and definitely "slept on".  She ran her tapered slender fingers through it, combing out some tangles and returned to her task.  It was easy to get distracted. 
Her phone rang.  
"ARRGGHH...not now!!"  She picked up the phone, knowing it would be Ali and sure enough, she heard the laughter on the other end of the phone.  
"Dani...I know you're heading out the door right now!"
"Uh yeah...give me a minute!"
"Dani we're going to be late and we don't want to be late today!"
"I know, Ali...I know!!  I can't wait to see how many carnations and candygrams I get."
There was a groan on the other end of the line. 
"Keep rubbing it in.  Just 'cause you're the popular girl in school now." 
"Oh knock it off.  You know I'm only teasing.  I bet I don't even get one!"  Dani said hopping around the room with the phone in the crook of her neck, pulling up her pink heart, white tights around her waist.   She bent over her bed to pull up the slack and smooth them over her legs.  
"I bet you get at least one..."  Ali said with an unmasked twinge of jealousy in her voice.  Dani heard it in her voice and couldn't help but guiltily try and put her at ease.  "You know...you're gonna get a bunch too.  I'm going to be the first person to buy you a dozen."  
"Right...Tiger...you just worry about keeping all those suitors at bay...including the ones with floppy blonde hair and deceiving, dazzling smiles.  I'll see you at school.  Don't be late!"  She hung up the phone. 
Danielle settled on a red-hearted turtle neck, long-sleeved shirt and a red jumper coveralls and pink jelly shoes.  She didn't care if she looked twelve she was going to be extra cute today.  She put on pink lipstick, having perfected the art of applying it and gloss without making too much of a mess.  She put on her trademark black fedora and silver bangles.  She nodded to herself in the mirror and headed out the door.   She grabbed her toast and air-kissed her mom, who was reading the paper and briefly looked up at her daughter, remarking how beautiful she was and for her to be careful. 
"I will Ma...love you!" 
'Cause we are living in a material world And I am a material girl You know that we are living in a material world And I am a material girl 
Dani walked down the hall to her class.  Several eyes turned to follow her.  It seemed to be the usual.  Dani was used to it by now.   She smiled and went to her locker and got her books and pocketed the few notes that were stuck in the metal slats.  She was sure they were notes from Johnny and she couldn't wait to go some place quiet to read them.  They were folded like those triangle football things they all played with during class.  A couple had hearts on them.  She closed her locker and jumped back, startled.  
Johnny was leaning against the lockers with his arms folded looking back at her with a big silly grin on his face.  His boyishly handsome good looks always gave Dani's heart a little jolt these days when she saw him.  She smiled but then played it cool, and walked past him waiting for him to catch up. 
"So...that's it?"  He said following after her, brushing past a few people in the hallway. 
"So what's it?"  Dani said without turning to look at him. 
"No...Good Morning, Handsome?  How did you sleep?"  Johnny said trying to snake his arm around Dani's waist possessively to get her to walk close to him down the hallway to class. 
She stayed just out of his reach.  "Good morning, Handsome...how did you sleep?"  She said quickly and bent to get a drink of water at the fountain.  She was trying to hide her laugh.  
Johnny leaned against the wall, frustrated.  He ran a hand through his blonde bangs and willed her to look at him.  "You haven't even seen what I'm wearing!" Danielle looked up from the fountain and gave him a 'once-over'.   "You look...nice."  She said and walked away.  He stood there until she turned around, hand on her hip and a sweet smile on her face.  She nodded her head toward the classroom.  "C'mon Blondie...we're gonna be late." 
Johnny caught up and grabbed Dani's books and kissed the top of her forehead.  He ushered her into the classroom, holding the door for her and she went to her desk.  Johnny stopped and his face fell.  Dani turned to see what he was looking at.  
Some boys romance Some boys slow dance That's all right with me If they can't raise my interest then I Have to let them be
On her desk was a literal pile of carnations, candygrams, valentine cards, red suckers with the white icing sayings and hearts on them.  Boxes of candy hearts were falling off of the desk onto the floor beside it.  There were even a couple of  balloons tied to her chair.  She looked at her desk in awe.  She blushed, the pink tinging her brown skin as she went to take her seat at the front of the classroom.  
Johnny frowned and looked at her desk again at all of the red and pink and white carnations that everyone had to spend a dollar on to buy their 'special sweetheart' and Danielle could have opened a flower shop with the amount she received...not to mention make a dentist rich for the amount of candygrams with words of "love" and goofy sayings attached...wishing...hoping....for a date with her.  
He went to sit in the back with the other Cobras.  They all had their fair share of candygrams on their desks.  All of the girls wanted make sure that their favorite Karate Boy knew how much they thought of them.  Surprisingly, Dutch had almost as much flowers and candy as Danielle did.  He was grinning from ear to ear...supremely smug about his animal magnetism.  
"Yeah...look at this Lawrence...I cleaned up this year! I got at least ten numbers here!"
Bobby rolled his eyes at Dutch and looked at his small pile.  He didn't do so bad.  He had enough...all the notes said something about his eyes and his wispy hair and how sweet he was.  He kept his thoughts to himself, looking over at Tommy and Jimmy who had a  couple of small piles but were not discouraged because it was only the first class and they had all day to get more candygrams and girls' numbers. 
Bobby glanced over to where Ali was sitting at her desk a couple of rows ahead of him.  Her head was down and she was looking at some of her notes she received.  There wasn't nearly as many showerings of goodies on her desk as there was on Danielle's and she was trying so very hard to keep the smile plastered on her face in good support of her friend.  It was hard and she felt the burning sting of a tear at the corner of her eye and she hurriedly brushed it away. 
Bobby had hoped she at least saw that she had a flower of every color from him and at least three candygrams telling her what a good friend she was to him.  He hoped that she found the note asking her on a date for Saturday night.  He had been waiting all month to ask her out and thought this was the good time to do that.  A lot had happened between the two of them.  He didn't like seeing her upset.  
Johnny's desk was covered with an equal amount of flowers and candygrams and candy hearts and balloons and crap as Dutch's was...but he didn't care.  He didn't want any of it.  He kept staring at Dani as she politely sifted through all of her cards and smiled up at the boys who were eagerly staring back at her wanting her acknowledgement.  Johnny almost broke his pencil in two when he saw her return smiles and shyly smell all the flowers on her desk.  It was going to be a very long morning. 
Boys may come and boys may go And that's all right you see Experience has made me rich And now they're after me
Dani walked through her day in a daze.  She felt so spoiled by everyone at the school and didn't understand why she was getting all of this constant attention.  She hardly could keep a thought in the back of her mind where her friends were.  She hadn't spoken much to Ali as she moved to each class.  She seemed to have disappeared on her...only catching her in the bathroom where it seemed like she couldn't get away fast enough.  Dani wanted to grab her and give her a big hug.  But she was gone.  She'd make it up to her later. 
And then there was Johnny.  She wanted to play and flirt and give him a hard time, but he was just as gone as Ali was.  He blew out of his first period class like he was on fire.  Dani cocked her head and watched him leave.  It was the first time her heart felt afraid that he might not like her anymore.  That all of his attention to her was vanished into air.  It hurt.  It hurt worse than any punch or kick she had received in the past.  She was going to give him a piece of her mind when she saw him again.  How could he leave her like this and not at least give her one flower or card.  What was the matter with him?
She found him sitting on a bench in the middle of the courtyard at lunchtime.  None of the other cobra boys was around him.  He was by himself, sitting on top of the table fiddling with something in his hands.  Danielle couldn't see what it was from where she was at but she was grateful that he was alone.  Now was her chance to go over and talk to him.  She was intending to punch him in the arm and refuse to go on another date with him...especially tonight.  This was not how to treat his girl.  
"Excuse me."  She said stopping in front of him and put her hands on her hips.   He looked up at her, blue eyes sparkling...the sun glinting off of his bangs and eyes and giving him that angelic appearance again, the one that had her insides turning to mush.  
"Oh...do I know you?"  
"Har Har...very funny!  What happened to you??  Where have you been?!"  She barely took a breath as she scolded Johnny for leaving her alone for most of the day. 
"Did you get enough Valentines? "  He said ignoring her rapid fire questions. She stopped abruptly and looked at him with her mouth open, disbelieving what she heard. 
"So...that's it..." She said with a smirk. 
"I don't even know why you want to hang out with a jerk like me...when you clearly have so many other boys to choose from."  Johnny said hanging his head, looking at her through his bangs.  He wasn't really upset, more teasingly making Dani feel bad...but he wasn't about to tell her that. 
She moved in closer to him.  "Yeah...well maybe I don't wanna choose another boy....you thought about that?" She nudged him in the shoulder. 
He looked up and smiled, his bright white teeth dazzling her as Ali had promised.  "Well that's good for me then...because I wouldn't know who else to give this to."  He said holding up a small black box. 
Danielle smiled, her whole face lighting up and her dimples in both cheeks made Johnny want to spend the rest of the day kissing them.  Just as quickly she acted aloof again...like she didn't care what he had.  "Oh...you have something for me then?"  She studied her nails, pretending to be disinterested.
"Maybe..."
"May I see it?"
"Are you going out with me tonight?"
"That depends."
"Oh really..."
"Yes...oh really..." Dani said giving him a sassy toss of her hair and holding out her hand.  
Johnny put the box behind his back away from her and she pouted and stomped her jellied shoe.  She had really learned the art of flirting as her few months as a girl made her almost a natural.  
When Johnny brought his hands back around he held a delicate, silvery necklace with a heart shaped pendant.  It sparkled and twinkled in the sunlight and Danielle looked at Johnny in shock.  It was beautiful.  Johnny motioned her to come forward and she did, standing in between his legs as he expertly fastened the necklace around her slender brown neck and he lightly trailed his hands from around her and slowly adjusted her pendant against her red jumper.  He never took his eyes from her face.  
Dani swallowed hard.  She wanted nothing more than to kiss Johnny now.  She was overcome with emotion.  This was the nicest gift anyone had ever given her and it meant so very much to her that it came from Johnny.  
Without thinking....Dani threw her arms around Johnny's neck...surprising him and she held on tight to him, burying  her face in his shoulder.  Johnny was shocked but quickly recovered, putting a hesitant arm around her waist, gingerly pulling her closer to him. 
"Thank you, Johnny...it's...it's perfect."  Dani whispered through the tears he felt wetting his cheek.  
"So I take that as a yes?"  Johnny said softly...pulling her back to look at him.  
"Yes!"  
'Cause everybody's living in a material world And I am a material girl You know that we are living in a material world And I am a material girl Living in a material world And I am a material girl
But it was oh so much more than that.  Dani was in love.
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local-anon · 5 years
Text
OC introduction
Will Barrett (rdr2)
Full Name: Will Barrett
Race: White
Class: Outlaw/ broke
Sexuality: Pan (but doesn't know it bc its the 1800s)
Age: 26
Physical Description
Gender: Male
Hair: Short, light brown
Height: 6’
Build: thicc but swole
Eyes: Hazel (depends on the day)
Scars: Scar round half his neck from nightfolk. Various gunshot grazes. once got stabbed in the hand during a drunken five finger fillet bet
Tattoos: Stick and poke sleeve on left arm.
Personality
Summary of their backstory.
An against the world attitude ever since he ran away from his parents' farm (too many kids they didn’t even notice) Worlds been throwing shit at him ever since. gains overconfidence because he somehow hasn't died yet 
“My best skill is surviving because I haven’t died yet so clearly I’m immortal” Takes it upon himself to make everyone smile once in his presence even if they respond by hardcore insulting him.
Do they have any mental illnesses?
Ptsd definitely. prolly adhd bc he forgets shit like a mother fucker, will start 15 chores and not finish any of them.
“Shit probably but who cares about that when people are shooting at you lmao”
How do they cope?
He doesn’t. To the frustration of himself and the rest of camp
Do they have any medical conditions?
“I have this thing where my neck scar will suddenly start burning to the point of my legs collapsing but that’s probably nothing”
Is medicine/ treatment available for them?
Honestly it’s probably psychosomatic and in 1899 he isn't going to bother with it.
How much do they care about their outer appearance?
11/10 He will bathe twice a week and is always doing laundry. miss Grimshaw appreciates him the most because he washes clothes the best.
What’s their “beauty routine”?
Beard is in perfect condition, has added pomade and stimulant to make sure of it. Makes his own soap.
What do they fear the most?
Spiders, it's a hindrance when it comes to checking out caves and abandoned places.
Their biggest flaw?
“My existence?” His self-esteem, not knowing when to shut up.
Do they recognize it as a flaw?
He recognizes his entire being as a flaw so idk
What’s their zodiac sign or which one do you think they relate to the most?
Doesn't know his birthday exactly but I predict he’s a Libra Scorpio cusp with cancer rising and Leo moon. he has a Leo venus. Sagittarius Mars
What Harry Potter house would they be in?
“I’m a Gryffindor” he's a Hufflepuff
What natural alignment are they? (ex. Lawful Good, Chaotic Evil)
Neutral good. He really just wants to live good and let people live good.
Do they have any hobbies? What are they?
He loves gardening and is crushed every time the camp moves because he has to start all over again.
Do they have a favorite holiday? How do they celebrate it?
He once visited new york in the summer and saw fireworks on the 4th or july he was in love. It's his favorite holiday but he will light off fireworks whenever he gets his hands on them. “That's why I loved that mayors party”
What’s their favorite season?
Spring, seed sowing season lol
Do they have a temper or are they level headed?
He is mostly level headed unless you completely got him fucked up (insult his partner, his family, THREATEN his family?) he will shoot you after telling you all the ways you fucked up
Do they express their emotions freely or hide their true feelings?
Both?? He hides behind half truths most of the time. But very blunt if he doesnt like you.
Are they a leader or a follower?
He’s a good team player but not necessarily a follower. Will question you if you give weird not good orders (dutch almost dropped him twice)
How do they come off to others?
Blunt and overconfident, charming in his way that even if you’re mad you won't be for long.
What first impression do they usually make?
You either want to punch him or hug him.
Do they prefer to travel alone or with company?
He likes traveling with people he trusts, and he prefers it to being alone. He will banter with himself if left alone for too long. (Camp has gotten concerned for his mental status a few times)
Would you describe them as selfless or selfish?
He cares more about his family than he does about himself. But would steal candy from a kid bc he wants it.
What do they find most attractive in others?
He just really loves peoples personalities and if ur nice and treat him and his family well he will find you attractive (also he rlly likes muscles on people)
Do they flirt often?
Yes, aggressively, too much, in a dumb way
Do they fall in love easily?
“No” Yes
What’s their love life like?
“Amazing” Awful, at least it was until he joined the gang
Do they prefer to solve things diplomatically or using violence?
It really depends on the situation, he wants the least amount of innocent casualties. keyword innocent
What is their combat style?
“I have a shotgun for sticky situations, but my favorite are these metal knuckles i got from an old blacksmith friend, theyre bladed”
Do they sneak?
When the situation calls for it
What weapon(s) do they always carry with them?
Sawed off shotgun, Sighted rifles, bow & arrow (Charles made him one after a week of pestering)
Their most prized possession?
An old native American ring he was given after this old white drunk dude after sobbing about all the atrocities he's seen and passing out after handing him the ring saying he can't stand the weight anymore. Will dragged his passed out person into his tent and saved the ring as a reminder to try to help out everyone when he can
Favorite armor/ outfit?
Redshirt, black paisley vest, duster jacket over top.
How’s their aim?
“Its the fuckin best” It’s alright, not perfect all the time but still pretty good
Do their hands shake while aiming a bow?
It used to but Charles taught him how to keep steady
Their thoughts on killing to survive?
He does it because he has to but he’d really like it if people would just stop shooting at them
Does it take a toll on them?
Only when they were innocent and were just caught in the crossfire
Or do they shake it off rather easily?
“Fuck O’Driscolls
Thoughts on death if any? (ex. Fear it, accept it)
Is only afraid he’ll die in a stupid way
Do they scavenge for their supplies or simply buy them?
He’s good at looting houses and won't let things go to waste. Once stole an entire houses blankets because the girls were complaining about the chill drafting into their tents
Are they the type to get distracted and go off to an unknown nearby location or do they stay on track?
Ohhhh myyy goddddd. He was once riding from Valentine to Rhodes and stopped at every single herb he saw, even in the distance and was late bu a few hours than he meant to be back to camp.
How do they sleep?
“What is sleep?” He doesn’t, has to be dragged to bed or will pass out on his horse.
Are they picky about where and how or can they sleep basically anywhere?
Yes, he can’t sleep on the bare ground.
Are they a picky eater?
Not really just needs seasoning
Do they know how to cook?
Surprisingly yes, he taught Pearson how to use the sun to bake.
What’s their favorite beverage?
Rum, it gets him fucked up fast and tastes sweet.
Do they drink alcohol?
Yes
Anything they like to collect? (ex. Unique weapons)
He collects pressed flowers after Mary-Beth taught him how to do it. Arthur bought him a penny dreadful just for the purpose of pressing flowers because he got tired of Will sneaking off with his journal to do it.
Are they good at disarming traps or do they constantly miss them?
He nearly lost a leg to a bear trap.
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lucienbutterfly · 3 years
Text
My Mind About PV
Hello!
Here are part two of my writings about the PV And now we will talk about Kiro and Gavin. I'm sorry I didn't do it yesterday because I was sick
The first part (Victor and Lucien) If you to lazy to read all of them, I write all conclusions at Note!
Warn:
❥ Spoiler Chinese server ❥ I am sorry if someone already writes about these things! ❥ I am sorry if I was making some mistake in my grammar or my writings! ❥ Everything that I write here is coming from my mind! ❥ Give credit if you want to reupload it somewhere ❥ The website that I use as a reference at the end of the blog!
☆♬○♩●♪✧♩ ✧♪●♩○♬☆♬○♩●♪✧♩✧♪●♩○♬☆♬○♩●♪✧♩✧♪●♬♩○♬☆
♬Kiro
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His first introduction is his half body with the word "Blow Your Mind" and gold die table lamp. I'm not quite sure about the color, but when we see the lamp that has sunlight it was gold.
In a dictionary "Blow Your Mind" is slang to find something very exciting and unusual. For the gold. Gold is a cousin to the color yellow and the color brown and is also associated with illumination, love, compassion, courage, passion, magic, and wisdom. When the lamp dies it will be dark right? I think when we with Kiro doing something in the dark there will be something unusual. Same as Lucien, I was still confused about his first appearance.
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At 0:33, They shoot sunflowers, and we see mc wearing a light blue dress and wearing a blue ribbon in her hair (she is adorable T.T). Sunflowers have a deep love meaning, a person who has loved with sincerity, purity never forgets, on the contrary, truly loves until the end and loyalty. Light blue It is a color that evokes trust, honesty, loyalty, confidence, softness, and responsibility. The only thing that I can take from this is immortal loyalty and trust in each other.
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At 0:35, A bear doll, "Lafune"? "Lajune"?
The bear doll (teddy bear) symbolizes depth, intelligence, truth, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, stability, and trust "Lafune" I can't find anything sorry, but "Lajune" means "Gift of God". Overall Kiro's scene from the first to now is about Loyalty
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At 0:43 Kiro's hand with the word "Love" and "The amount of space between two places" and "Your" "The amount of space between two places": is "distance" About "Your" that was part of the puzzle that I found I will not talk about "Love" right now because it was part of the art
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At 1:13, Kiro is half leaning with the word love in his hand with a kiss mark *chough*. the big bear teddy that has a green ribbon in it. A lot of brown and gold colors, gold heart balloons, and star balloons
Teddy bear symbolizes depth, intelligence, truth, loyalty, wisdom, confidence, stability, and trust + Green ribbon Green is the color of the heart chakra, symbolizing love to others, forgiveness, compassion, understanding, transformation, warmth, sharing, sincerity, and devotion Gold: The color gold is a cousin to the color yellow and the color brown, and is also associated with illumination, love, compassion, courage, passion, magic, and wisdom Gold heart balloons and star balloons: if ballons always go up, then their love always increases.
So Kiro's scene is not about the story, but about His loyalty and his love that always increase like a ballons in the sky
☆Gavin
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His first sign was a camera with a red overlay, with words "Gejellig" and "Freo."
Camera, it was probably talking about memory. Red overlay... ugh... red color meaning is love so yeah... "Gejellig" I can't find anything for "Gejellig." but the word "Gazellig" from the Dutch language means "Cozy" in English. And "Freo" I can't find anything sorry:")
So Cozy love memory for his first "sign."
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At 0:08, his appearance with the word "only" and "The number of times something happens over a particular period." (we will talk about the second layer first, the art later)
Word "only" will have a connection with other puzzles "The number of times something happens over a particular period." means "frequency." in English (the number of times something happens within a particular period, or the fact of something happening often or a large number of times)
We often do "something" with him, hmmm.
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At 0:45, Gavin's half body with the sentence "Holy you unmind" that's what I can read from that *sob*
I don't know how to explain it but, that means he is okay if we are "holy" (I CAN'T THINK OF ANYTHING SORRY IF I WAS DISAPPOINTING YOU) But I see Gavin is the one who has a "Window" at this scene. I don't know how Gavin's is doing in season 2. So far I know that Victor join BS right? and Lucien and Gavin is the one on the "other side" This scene should explain his role (SORRY SORRY IF I WAS WRONG I DIDN'T READ TOO MUCH ABOUT THE MAIN CHAPTER)
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At 0:59, Gavin with white Cecilia flower on his shirt, a lot of camera pictures, and a red vibe, word "By" and "-ve."
Let's start with the Cecilia flower.
Cecilia means Flowers that tend toward a white color symbolize purity and innocent love. It only grows where harsh winds blow and is just as intangible as the true heart of an unbound soul. Gavin Evol still winds right... Cecilia symbolize Gavin The camera means a lot of memory. The word "by" maybe for the Picture for example "By Gavin." Word "-ve" I'm sure it was "Love" A conclusion that I got from this is "A lot of your romantic memory with Gavin"
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At 1:18, they shoot a black-purple-ish Cecilia flower (?) A dark red or maroon shirt, and a black-purple-ish interior.
(Wait they we're doing the scene at flor? at the mattress? WAIT, AT BALCONY? I'm still not sure okay.. but the bird design at the gate make a balcony vibe) It was the opposite thing from his previous scene White Cecilia flower for the " innocent love" is gone now white is change to the darker color especially red Let's just go to the conclusion: So in my opinion meaning of all of this is "Gavin wants to make more memory with you whether is a pure love or a 'red' love"
Note:
Finally done for part two, this part two is a little bit tricky for me the detail not easy to find like Lucien and Victor.
I was disappointed in myself because I can't find any story for Gavin and Kiro.
I'm sorry if I apologized too much in this writings because I didn't know Kiro and Gavin that well, especially in season two. I fell blind. I do not dislike them I like Kiro I like Gavin, but I still do not understand them as well as I was understood, Victor or Lucien. Part 3 will talk about Shaw and all the puzzles that I find.
The Conclusions:
Kiro is about His loyalty and his love that always increases like a ballons in the sky Gavin wants to make more memory with you whether is pure love or a 'red' love
Credits BYM Gold Sunflower Blue Teddy Bear Love Green Frequency Cecilia
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