Two men lie dead at Samuel’s feet and while he didn’t truly intend either of their deaths, he won’t lament the loss of two despicable men, two men hired to protect his bounty; a man doubly despicable. Right now, the man he has pursued for nearly a week, is trapped inside a small shack with one of his gang members, a man who is currently shouting through the cracked wood of the door that Sam best stay back if he wants to live.

Four men, that was all he had counted, there are only fours horses here too, in addition to his own, Diego, who is safely tied further up the hill. The fifth man is not one Samuel is aware of, nor anticipated, something made obvious as he slowly ventures towards the shack, unaware he being stalked.

Standing in the Bowerstone market square, Jedi stood back in the shadows, watching the people passing her and waiting for the opportune moment. She bit at her lip, looking at the marks surrounding her until finally, she saw an old man. Her eyebrow arched a moment, taking him in. perfect.

     “A bit of both,” he admitted at length, his tone grave. Then he sighed, shoulders sagging. He couldn’t keep up this charade forever. It was time to come clean with the soldier. He would be leaving soon, anyway, and someone who knew young Will deserved to know the truth, if only to pass it on to the lad once he was old enough.  

SEND ME 👀 AND MY MUSE WILL CONFESS ONE DIRTY THOUGHT THEY’VE HAD ABOUT YOURS (no longer accepting)

@toprotectandscrve​ said:  👀 (i know its a lil early for em so just if u want!)

The ground is spinning, or perhaps it is Samuel alone who is spinning; admittedly, it’s hard for him to tell. The plot of land on which is feet are planted is nothing but dust, brown dirt that seems to cloud up around him as he feels hands at his waist, gripping, hands on his neck, pulling, palms on his arms, pushing. Around him, the landscape is muted, misted by a green hue which indicates forest, though Samuel can see no trees, in truth he can see nothing of substance at all. As soon as the ground stops spinning, it rises up to meet him and Samuel finds himself pressed against it with the taste of dirt in his mouth, bitter and acrid. Kicking against the pressure at his back, he turns his head just far enough to see Walter’s triumphant smile.

“Do you yield?”

Relenting, Samuel tries to force his way out of the hold, but he is tightly caught and as he feels his arm being uncomfortably twisted up his back at a painful angle, he knows he will have to soon admit defeat.

“Do. You. Yield?”

“Yes, Christ Walter, yes, okay, God Damn it, I yield!” Sam cries, spitting into the dust as he kicks out in frustration. It is now he expects to be released, but while the pain in his arm lessens, he finds he is still bound to the ground, caught tight.

“I could have you like this, couldn’t I, Silas?”

The question is entirely unexpected and causes Sam’s breath to catch in his throat as the older man presses up against him. Instantly a heated flush of crimson stains his cheeks, but that’s the thing about Walter isn’t it – he’s always had a way of making this old bounty hunter feel fresh off the ranch.

“Would you like that Samuel? To be taken, just like this?”

As one of Walter’s warm palms presses against the back of Sam’s thighs and the other closes tightly around his wrists, Sam’s eyes crush closed as he prepares to utter his shameful truth - the truth that plagues him each and every time he and Walter spar.

“Yes.”

Symbol meme

@toprotectandscrve​ said:

⎈ My character pins yours to the ground while fighting/sparring. (Walter)

Every time he thinks he’s got the upper hand, Walter twists out of his grasp and somehow Samuel ends up flat on his back, he takes Walter down too however, with a quick sweep to his legs but it isn’t long before they’re both back on their feet, hands tensely locked around each other’s arms in a battle to see who will break and be thrown to the ground first. In truth Samuel doesn’t normally need to resort to hand to hand combat when discharging his duties as a bounty hunter, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t a skill worth learning and he’s come far since Walter started teaching him, but not yet far enough to ever best the man.

He’s younger than Walter, true, a little leaner perhaps and he’s strong, though strength is only one part of this and not enough to keep Walter from running circles around him, much to his obvious frustration. He’s stripped to the waist and sweating already, sweat that is dripping from his auburn curls and making his eyes sting, but he can’t afford to release his grip and wipe the beads from his brow because doing so would allow Beck to gain the upper hand and Samuel won’t allow it, not this time. When his hand finally slips from Walter’s bicep, he twists his body, but he’s too slow and quickly finds himself in a headlock. He tries to prize Walter’s arm away, but he puts too much strength into it and the old man ends up using it to his advantage to have Samuel’s own strength topple him to the ground where he finds Walter atop him, pinning him to the ground.

“Son of a bitch!”

He’s still sweating and panting now, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he attempts to push Walter off and finds himself now too exhausted to move, admittedly all he can do is smile in response to his clear and undeniable defeat. 

Today is National Law Enforcement Appreciation Day.💙