AN: Hey everyone. I know this is later than what I said in the update, but life decided to intervene and I had become too busy. I'm not gonna go into detail because it really isn't necessary, but just know that I plan on regularly uploading from now on. But anyways, I hope you enjoy. Oh and FYI, thoughts will be underlined.

Prompt: In a post-nuclear apocalyptic world, a man who patrols the wasteland armed with nothing more than a bow must intervene when he comes across a group of bandits raiding a settlement who want to kidnap a villager named Felicity (yeah this is fallout af)

-page break-

Pant. Pant. Pant.

This group of raiders sure was giving him quite the workout, and if he wasn't already planning on how to kill every one of them, he would've thanked em; not many people were able to evade him for so long, but he had a job to do, and he wasn't too fond of slavers.

As screams could be heard in the distance, the man knew that he would have to act fast if he was gonna save this quaint little town that was seated on the edge of what used to be Starling City, some three hundred years ago. And act quickly he did because unlike most people who claim to do the things he does, he actually knows what he's doing and there's no one better than him at helping people who are in need.

There's something strange here. These are definitely slavers – I can tell by the symbols painted on their rusted armor – but why does the slaving party only have five men? The man with the faded green hood pulled over his head asked himself as he assessed the situation. A direct assault might not be the best option because he may be good, but he's not bulletproof, so he decided upon a stealthier approach.

With a serrated tip arrow notched onto the line of his compound boy, the man began his approach before hearing gunfire erupt from the village. Usually small villages like this never fought back due to almost always just being peaceful and too small to defend, but here he was, going into the flames to protect the innocent people here. As he grew closer to the east side of the village, he loosed one of his arrows that was aimed at a bandit with no helmet on, and so the arrow lodged itself into the back of his skull. More gunfire could be heard before an abrupt stop, and it caused the 'Wasteland Archer' – which was a name that was given to him by the people he had saved – to grow slightly fearful that he was too late.

Three more guards went down with relative ease which left only one left who the archer was able to track to a small house made of pieces of rusted sheet metal and other spare parts that could be used to create a home. As he slowly stepped through the entrance of the home, he saw a blonde woman on the ground crying with a shotgun to her left and the last slaver on top of her, about to do something that he would regret to this poor woman.

"If you were smart, you would step away from her." The archer's voice was deep and gruff and there was a sense of pain as if it belonged to a man who had seen way too many terrible things happen to innocent people, as if it belonged to a man who had lost all faith. An arrow was already aimed at the back of the man's head, but to avoid possibly hurting the woman, he was going to wait until the man stood up, but that's when things took another approach.

The last man, who was likely the leader of this small slaving party, quickly jumped to his feet and grabbed the woman, using her as a shield which only made the green hooded archer angrier while also giving him more of a reason to kill him. "Oh I don't think so, Robin Hood. One wrong move and I'll," his words trailed off as he soon ad a knife in his hand, pressing the blade against the woman's soft skin "probably do something I might regret. I don't, after all, wanna kill something that can become my proper-."

Before he could even finish his statement, the hooded archer took a deep breath and shot the arrow precisely, having it shoot through the bandit's right eye before he could go off and spout out more things that would make the archer wanna kill him even more. The man's attention was soon focused solely on the woman he had just saved, and so he ran to her and grabbed her before she could fall and brushed a few strands of hair from her face.

"You're safe now. Those men can't hurt you anymore." His usual gruff tone was replaced with a slightly more caring and tender one because despite the fact that he knows none of the people he saves, he still cares about them and he wants them to be safe. "And judging by the shotgun that's next to you and the spent shells on the floor, it was you who fought back?" The question had earned him a small nod which caused a smile to spread across his lips. "You're very brave.."

After he spoke, he pulled a bottle of clean water from a small bag he brought with him everywhere and let her drink it, hoping that it would help her begin to feel better but his whole world was about to change and he didn't even know.

The blonde woman found herself in a small coughing fit before sitting herself up and opening her eyes, and by the look on her face, the archer could have sworn she had seen a ghost. "O-Oliver...is that..is that you?"