#Arthur x Eliza

[say-hwaet]

The Dynamic Between Arthur and the Marstons (long post )

I guess I should say there are spoilers, just in case…

After playing the story through several times, I have to say, that Arthur Morgan is one of the best characters ever written. Aside from his development, there is so much depth to him, and regardless of his honor, there is so much to unravel.

I’ve been thinking about the relationship that he has between the Marstons, meaning John, Abigail, and Jack, and it really makes sense as to how Arthur acts the way he does around them in the beginning and all the way to the end.

A lot of his behavior, I think, stems from the loss of Eliza and Isaac. It is my opinion that he himself was torn between living a full life with them and remaining loyal to his gang, and before or by the time he had made a choice, it was too late, as they were killed in a robbery. This had haunted him since and it made him extremely bitter. Later in the game, he tells Rains Fall that he realized that he didn’t get to live a bad life and have good things happen to him. I also think that he was with Eliza after Mary had broken their engagement. I can get into my support for this later, but that isn’t what this post is about.

I think that Arthur was angry with John out of jealousy. He is the “golden boy” and clearly was Dutch’s favorite at one point. Not only that but after Arthur loses his own son and lover, John and Abigail get pregnant and he takes off for a year. He abandons his family, which Arthur takes personally. Arthur had tried to do right by Eliza and Isaac and still failed. So when John has Jack and is within the circle of the gang to help and support him, he takes off. Arthur gives up a potential life with Eliza and Isaac for Loyalty to the gang and John throws it all away. When John comes back, Dutch welcomes him with open arms, and Arthur believes that he would have been held to a different standard if he had come back after being with Eliza and Isaac for a long time. And it doesn’t help that John treats Jack like crap in the beginning of RDR2.

Arthur, imo, was a good father to Isaac when he was present. We can see this in how he treats Jack. In Arthur’s journal, he writes how he should have married Abigail, but due to his feelings for Mary, he didn’t. I’m not sure why after years of not hearing from Mary he would say this, but meh. Perhaps, the hope of starting over, or that she did pop in again at some point (which is how Abigail might have met her?). Anyways. I think he says he should have married her so that she would have someone to rely on and that he could be the father Jack needed. He cares about Abigail, but I don’t think it is anything beyond that. Arthur seemed to me not to be one to be with a woman without some sort of relationship, based upon how he treats women and the prostitutes in Valentine, so I don’t think he was ever with Abigail. Even so, Abigail relies on Arthur, and while he puts up a front, he gives her money for clothing and spends time with Jack. Heck, he even tells John to step up and be a dad. In some of Arthur’s conversations with John, he tells him that he can’t be two people at once. He’s speaking from experience. I think he’s subtly telling John he needs to make a choice as to what life he’s going to live. Hosea and Arthur both tell Abigail and John to leave at parts of the game.

When Jack is kidnapped, and eventually rescued, I think it is one of the most heart-wrenching missions and scenes. I can see it in Arthur’s body language that he longs for the family that he once had. He’s alone in his pain and when everyone is celebrating, Arthur doesn’t sing with the gang; there isn’t even the option to do it like it does other times. Even in my first playthrough, it seemed so sad to me. Everyone was drinking and singing, but Arthur just looked so sad.

So, it is at this point that John starts to step up, and Arthur starts to show symptoms of his illness. When he learns of his diagnosis, Arthur’s eyes open to the reality of the gang’s downfall, and he acknowledges the doubts/reservations he has about Dutch’s plans and schemes. He isn’t blindly loyal anymore. He tries to get John, Abigail, and Jack out, so that they can have the life that he had lost due to loyalty to the gang. He continually tells John to get out and that it would mean a lot to him. In his journal, after rescuing John from prison, he writes in his journal “…We’ve argued over the years, but I’ve grown to care a little for [John]. He’s less of a fool than he was, and maybe he can have the luck that has eluded me. Jack is an innocent little boy. In him, I see what I missed [meaning Isaac]. We did it.” This speaks volumes to me about how he feels about them in the end. He sacrifices himself to let John live. And though it isn’t forever, Arthur dies believing that he made it, and that matters. And hopefully, he could finally be at peace and see Eliza and Isaac again.

I could keep going, but I think I am too long-winded. I guess that helps when writing fleshed-out fanfiction stories, but not for posts. LOL

Would love to hear other thoughts or opinions, I’m always keen for a discussion.

[dalekofchaos]

Context.

Scenario 1. We take Landon Rickets in Blackwater more serious and Landon saw what Dutch did and when he has the opening, Landon shoots Dutch dead. Hosea and Arthur gather everyone and lead them on a path to get lost in the west, gather their strength. Hosea makes the complete opposite of Dutch's decisions throughout the game and the gang is better off for it.

Scenario 2. Arthur arrives very late and sees Thomas Downes is having a coughing fit and collapses and figures that this debt isn't worth it. So Arthur never catches TB. He has his same character arc because he sees that Dutch is losing it and Micah is...Micah. Differences is. Arthur easily overpowers Milton and Arthur kills Micah.

Scenario 3. Arthur takes it upon himself to take responsibility and care for Eliza and Isaac. Turns out Eliza can contribute to the gang. She has a history of pickpocketing when tips as a waitress were low or nonexistent and under Hosea's tutelage, she's a damned good con artist. Isaac takes a liking to "Grandpa Hosea" and "Ol Dutch" the girls adore Isaac and the gang are protective of him. When Jack comes around, Isaac is like an older brother to Jack and Abigail adores him and when the Braithewaites try to steal Jack, Isaac fires a warning shot and everyone comes running to Jack's aid. Because of his family, Arthur chooses not to go after Downes and doesn't get TB. One day, Micah makes a pass at Eliza and makes an offhand comment about Isaac. And Arthur proceeds to beat the shit out of him "You come near my family again, and I'll kill you" Arthur puts his family first and chooses to get out when the writing is on the wall. When they go to free John from Piska, Abigail, Jack, Eliza and Isaac are all waiting and they leave and never look back,

Scenario 4. I know timeline wise this can't work, but it's a fun thought. Basically after Blackwater, Red is on the hunt. He is the "super bounty hunter" Trelawny warned the gang about. The Gang at first doesn't take the threat seriously, but suddenly members of the gang go missing and are delivered to the Pinkertons. Near the end, he sees the humanity in Arthur, John and his family, Charles and Sadie and helps them. Red shoots Micah dead and takes Dutch in. Arthur and John split the money and live in peace

Scenario 5.

Sadie (after chapter 3), Kieran (with his head intact), Charles Smith and Lenny. Josiah Trelawny as the heist leader.

Send the team to Blackwater, their mission is to retrieve the money.

Reasoning:

Sadie, new member of the team, no one know her as VDL gang, no big bounty yet, able to do Gun Fight.

Kieran, Horse gateaway duty. No one know him, he can be the spy to make sure that Colm team doesn't interrupt at all.

Charles, Bodyguard, gunsmith, considered safe bet, he was not in the big heist. Charles is also natural for stealth approach

Lenny, Sniper. Watching the team from the distance (from the camping spot where Arthur and co preparing to save Sean). He is also the one who can run quick back to main camp if anything happen

Josiah. The magician, the mastermind. He can safely travel anywhere, to make it a great decoy in Blackwater.

Arthur + Dutch + The rest of the gang can camping safely outside the border waiting for Lenny to come back

Scenario 6. Just a thought I had. What if Mac returned instead of Milton. But completely changed. After Blackwater and Davey's death, Mac goes through a similar journey as Arthur had and sacrifices himself so Arthur and John can escape

Scenario 7. Just had to include the absolute worst scenario possible. Micah orders Cleet and Joe to go back for Tilly and Jack. When Arthur and John are on the run, Micah yells out that he has Abigail and Jack and if the two of them don't show up to Beaver's Hollow in the next 10 minutes, then he'll kill them both. At first they don't believe him until he hears Abigail yell out for John. John rushes towards his family and is shot dead. And Arthur fights him to the death. The TB kills him and John's family is left at Micah's mercy. The trauma Jack witnesses causes amnesia. And Micah sees the opportunity to do what his father did to him. Take him under his wing and make Jack the deadliest outlaw in the world and as a final insult to Arthur and John. Jack Marston, is now Micah Bell IV

Scenario 8. After seeing how far Dutch has fallen with Micah poisoning his mind. Arthur contacts Mary and leaves with her. He asks Sadie and Charles to help John and his family and to help the girls, Pearson and Uncle leave. Mary takes Arthur away to the right climate and makes a full recovery. Eventually John, Abigail and Jack contact him. Charles and Sadie would join them shortly after helping the Wapiti tribe escape. Arthur advises them all. "Leave Micah. Revenge is a fool's game. All he did was reveal who Dutch truly is, eventually they'll both be caught or killed. Leave it all behind and don't look back." Arthur and Mary build a farm for themselves and a family and get the life Arthur always wanted with Mary. They help John and his family on Beecher's hope and all is well with the Morgans and the Marstons.

Scenario 9.

During the year that John left the gang. What if John somehow found his way to New Austin. He finds himself drifting and just thinking Abigail and the kid would be better off without him. One day he finds himself on the MacFarlane ranch. Bonnie asks for his help stopping some rustlers stealing their horses. John decides to stay and help the MacFarlanes out and somehow he finds the peace he's never had with Abigail. One thing leads to another and John falls in love with Bonnie and marries her. Meanwhile, Arthur helps Abigail take care of Jack and John's absence brings them together and they leave the gang after Molly is killed.

Scenario 10.

Hosea, Lenny, Kieran and Sean survive. Arthur convinces Molly to leave during the Saint Denis chapter and that Dutch doesn't love her and it's best if she left. Sadie and Charles return in time. Everyone stands with Arthur and they end Dutch, Micah. With half the gang against Dutch, Bill and Javier see sense and side with Arthur and John. Everyone splits the money and separates.

Scenario 11.

Arthur lives and helps John set everything up. He leaves with Sadie and kills Micah. Arthur chooses to hunt down Bill, Javier and Dutch in exchange for the Marstons freedom.

Arthur kills Bill at Fort Mercer. Arthur stealthily infiltrates Fort Mercer just like Fort Wallace. Kills Bill's gang one by one, until all that's left is Bill. "Hello Bill" "Arthur??" "I'll give you a choice come quietly or we can end this the good old fashioned way" Bill grabs his gun and Arthur shoots him dead “You were always a weak minded fool.”

Arthur hunts down Javier in Mexico. However, Arthur does not play both sides. He sees how desperate the people of Nuevo Paraíso have become. He even meets an old friend, Sister Calderon, now Mother Superior. He asks what side is right and she tells him to help Luisa and Mr Ricketts, they will help him in return.

One conversation with Reyes and Arthur sees right through him. He's nothing but a self-absorbed coward who uses the people of Mexico for his own ambitions. Instead of helping Reyes, Arthur is helping Luisa see sense and one day, Arthur and Luisa catches Reyes having an affair and Luisa kills him. The official story is Javier snuck into Reye's quarters and killed him and his mistress. Reyes Rebellion, now becomes Luisa's Rebellion.

Luisa fulfills her promise and helps Arthur find Javier.

"Well, well, well. Hello old friend." "Hello brother." "Oh, I'm your brother now, am I? "Arthur, I always loved you. I was always on your side." "Loyalty never meant that much when you stood by Dutch's side." "So what, you're taking the governments orders now?" "Look who's talking. From a revolutionary to Allende's lapdog." “Colonel Allende promised me a full pardon, all that mattered was returning home.” Arthur gets the best of Javier, lasso's him and delivers him to Ross and Fordham. Javier condemns Arthur and John. Arthur parts Javier telling him he was nothing more than a blind fool clinging to one master to another.

Arthur kills Dutch. He looks at him with disgust. “Hello Arthur, my son.” “Oh, I’m your son, am I? That didn’t mean a damned thing to you all those years ago when you chose the rat over me.” “I….I did no such thing, you and John BETRAYED ME and now you’re working for them.” “It’s either work with them to kill you or I die” and look at you, using another tribe of Indians like you used Eagle Flies. You’re pathetic.“ "If it’s all the same to you,I’d rather kill you Dutch.” During the shootout on the mountains, Arthur is mocking him for allowing the once great man to be reduced to his shell of his former self. Dutch telling Arthur he should have left him on the streets to die. Arthur mocking his lack of plan and just telling Dutch to “have some goddamn faith” When he has him on the cliff of Coachinay, Arthur just mocks him. “The great Dutch van der Linde, the man with a plan!” For the first time in his life, Dutch shows an ounce of humility and takes responsibility. “Arthur, I let him damn us all. If I had just listened to you, Hosea and John, we would’ve made it.” “If I had just let him hang, we would be in Tahiti” and Dutch falls to his death. At the end of the mountain, Arthur and Ross are by Dutch’s corpse. Arthur demanding to know if he’s finally free. Ross tells him one more mission. Kill John Marston and before Ross can say anything more, Arthur grabs Dutch’s gun and kills Ross. Fordham sees what transpires and mocks Ross “Oh trust me, it’ll look better in the report” Fordham telling Arthur what makes him think they won’t kill him. “You know why? I know too much. See, I know why you used me. Your governor Nate Johns election is coming up and he needed you and you needed me to clean up the state. Lets just say I told some folk and if word gets out I’m dead, then mr Johns won’t get reelected. You leave me and John Marston and his family alone and no one talks." And just like that, Arthur and John live.

[opha-the-awesome]

eliza, isaac and young john marston.

[photo1030]

Oh dang, it never occurred to me that their paths may have crossed!

Arthur's love stories and the overlap

I need a cannon story line pre game, specifically because I want to know how Eliza and Mary connects since their timeline makes little sense... Unless.

When Arthur talks about Eliza he says "he was such a sweet kid, she was too I guess," hinting at the fact that he did not see her as a kid when they were together, meaning he was either around those 19 years as well or younger.

There is also a dialouge where Arthur compares issac to Jack so we can assume Isaac was around four years old as well when he died.

I can follow this far. That would mean they met sometime around 1882, five years later 1887, they die, that would place Arthur at 24 years old.

But now I question when Mary comes in, because they met at "an early age," the majority of people even say when they were teenagers. I would definately say that compared to the fact Arthur is 36 in 1899, 24 years old is not that early.

Also he does not look 24 years old.

Now we could go ahead and maybe say Mary was first, it would match with the fact that he was young and it would match with the fact that they hadn't seen each other for a bit, but now we face another problem.

Abigail knows Mary, all the camp girls does (except Sadie) and Abigail joined in 1894. Jamie also knows Annabelle and Bessie whom have been dead a while.

(Added!) Abigail does not just seem to have heard about Mary, but also seen her from this dialogue she can have with Arthur "I remember you and Mary used to play dominos together" "Yeah" "I always liked her."

Isaac and Eliza has also been dead a while, meaning it couldn't have just happened withinthe last couple of years.

Now with none of the time lines matching up, I do think he slept with Eliza while "courting" Mary. Back then courtship took forever and it was a process that included parental agreement and with the heavy purity culture and the fact that loyality was only really seen as something after marriage, I don't see why he should not.

(Tags: @pinescent-and-gingerbread @photo1030)

[elizaisdunn]

merthur are both so dumb this is exactly how a love confession scene would go

[hihomeghere]

Dreams | Arthur Morgan/Reader

Word Count : 1.1k Summary : Arthur starts having dreams of starting a family with you Warnings/tags : Cursing, fluff, mention of infidelity, just Arthur being a sweet guy <3

He knows he shouldn’t feel like this. Shouldn’t be having these thoughts, because all they are just dreams. They’re never going to become a reality. Not when they’re constantly on the move, running from place to place. He sees the way it affects Jack, poor kid, not knowing what the hell is going on. And his daddy doesn’t exactly help him understand. 

He can’t even say he would be a better father, he wasn’t before. 

Hell you two ain’t even married yet, and he’s not that much of a fool. Not anymore. His regret for not marrying Eliza weighs heavily on him most days, even if he didn’t love her in that way. Now you on the other hand, he loves you more than anything. More than this stupid gang, more than life itself. He would happily lay down his life if he knew you would be happy, safe. 

When these thoughts enter his head, he can’t say. His days sort of blend together, making it hard to pinpoint. Although seeing you interact with Jack doesn’t help. 

You are so sweet, so motherly, hell you even mother the younger folks in the gang. Soft touches, kind words, but internally strong. You have all the qualities he finds attractive in a woman. Somehow you fell for him just as hard as he fell for you. 

But he ain’t a fool, he knows this ain’t the right time or place. So instead he writes down all these dreams in his journal, his safe place. The place where he can say anything without being judged. He dreams of little girls, he didn’t know how to interact with Isaac. Too afraid of being his own father. Girls seem less daunting, and a little you would be perfect. He already has one angel, what’s one more?

He comes up with the name while north of Brandywine Drop. The bright purple flowers caught his eye just off the trail.

Violet.

Violet Beatrice Morgan.

His heart sings, scribbling the name down in the margins of his journal. He finds himself writing VM in his journal, smiling foolishly to himself. It’s beautiful, his precious flower. 

It’s not like you meant to snoop. You were looking for Arthur, since he was nowhere to be found. You entered his tent, which in reality wasn’t much of a tent at all, finding his journal open. You walked over to it, looking over the worn page. There were the normal doodles he drew, along with his flowing hand writing. But one thing stood out to you, a pair of initials circled by hearts. VM.

You furrowed your brows, you couldn’t think of anyone you knew with the initials VM. Those definitely weren’t your initials either. 

With your curiosity peaked you flipped through a couple more pages. VM was written everywhere, along with those damn little hearts. 

You felt that little green monster grow inside you the further you looked into his journal. Biting your cheek so hard you could taste blood. It did nothing to quench the fire inside of you. 

“Darlin?” Arthur called walking into the so-called tent. You dropped the journal back onto the table, turning to face him. “There you are.” He grinned walking towards you.

“Here I am.” You said forcing a smile.

“Hosea said you were looking for me.” He said softly, reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, "Anything you need?”

“Must have forgot.” You said with a noncommittal shrug, “I ought to get back to work.” You nod walking past him. Arthur furrowed his brow at your attitude. Did he say something to offend you?

Then his eyes fall onto his open journal. His stomach drops at the sight. Jesus, you saw. You saw all of it. You were probably thinking the worst, seeing the initial surrounded by hearts. How was he gonna fix this?

You stomped off to the edge of camp, trying to wrack your brain as to who this VM could be. And why was Arthur drawing hearts beside the initials? Maybe you had this all wrong, Arthur would never do anything to hurt you. He was a good man, a man you could trust. Wasn't he?

“Y/n!” He called trailing behind you, a crestfallen expression on his face. You stopped at the tree lining, biting your lip as you turned to face him. “I can explain.”

“I’m sure you can.” You scoffed, crossing your arms over your chest.

“I-“ He sighed looking down, pinching the bridge of his nose as he let out a low curse. 

“Who is she?” You asked clenching your jaw. He furrowed his brows looking up at you.

“What?” He asked, his hands settling on his hips.

“VM, the girl you keep drawing hearts around. Who is she?” You were blunt, something he loved so much. Always telling it like it is, never leaving him to guess your feelings. A small smile spread on his face, which only made you more mad. “Seriously, you think this is funny?” You hissed, taking a step towards him. Arthur only had one choice, to tell you the truth. 

“Violet.” He said softly, reaching for you. “Violet Morgan.” You let him wrap his hand around your forearm, pulling you close to his chest.

“Who is Violet Morgan?” You asked, swallowing thickly. He sighed, looking off to the side, wetting his lips.

“She’s uh-“ He shook his head, a nervous smile on his lips. “She’s not exactly real, not yet at least.” He said. 

You shook your head, brows knitted together, “Not real? The hell you mean, not real?”

“I-“ He rubbed the back of his neck looking down, “It’s uh- shit.”

“Spit it out Morgan.” You huff throwing your arms up. 

“I thought of a name,” He explained, “A name for a girl if we- if we have one some day.” He said with a shrug, his cheeks flushed, almost as though he had been in a scuffle. 

Oh.

If we have one some day. 

“Oh Arthur.” You said softly, a smile spreading across your face. Feeling suddenly very foolish for doubting your man. “That's so sweet.” You took a step forward, tilting his face up to look at you. 

“Yeah?” He asked, looping his fingers in his gun belt. 

“Yeah.” You repeated, nodding. “Jesus you had me scared you were gonna tell me you found someone else.” You chuckled, shaking your head.

“Never. There ain’t no one else in this goddamn world that could replace you.” He said his hand reached up to cup your face. “You’re uh- you’re it for me darlin.” His bright blue eyes peered into yours, love and affection pouring out in his expression. 

“When we have our girl.” You said brushing away a stray strand of honey brown hair, “Violet will be a perfect name.” He grinned, wrapping a hand around your waist.

“Guess it’s settled then.” He said as he leaned down to press his lips against yours.

[rottencecil]

Type?

When I tried to explain their relationship, I discovered they had suspicious things in common…

I'm sorry…

[anonymousqualities]

Rdr2 AU: Arthur met charles before the events of rdr2.

I'm conflicted if I want them meeting before and didn't realize it (they both forgot, arthur more so, lol) or Arthur is the one to recruit charles or just a mixture of both lol

They would meet 8 years prior, so arthur is 28 & charles is 18/19

I also HC Charles had selective mutism when he was younger so that applies here.

-when Arthur find Isaac and Eliza's graves he finds out Charles dug them. Charles had just began getting to know Eliza as a friend before the incident.

-Arthur runs into him while saying a last goodbye to the graves at the same time charles is bringing flowers.

-Not sure If I'd want Arthur to be hostile or kind. If he's drunk, probably alil hostile. It would also explain him forgetting the encounter.

-At this point in time, Charles can't stand drunks. The wounds from having to leave his dad still fresh.

-Not sure what I see happening between them (nothing sexual) but the short encounter stays with charles for a while. Arthur has a vague memory of Charles' appearance and often tried to recreate his like-ness in his journal whenever he thought about the "young man he ran into that day"

(In this AU, arthur nevers metions eliza and isaac by name. Some of the gang just know he had a son that no one feels comfortable mentioning)

-Fast-forward to rdr2 events with established charthur. Charles admits partly why he accepted Dutch's offer to join was something about arthur being familiar.

-At another time, arthur casually shares that charles reminds him of someone he use to sketch often. Never knowing if the man was real or from a dream. He shares his old sketch journal and charles is suprised to see what looks like a younger him.

-

-

-

Arthur: *shell-shocked after the revelation*

Charles: *intensely examining a particular sketch* "You think I should cut my hair this short again?"

Arthur:

Charles: ....arthur?

Arthur:

[azures-bazar]

I saw your post with Arthur reuniting with Isaac and it’s amazing!!! Brought me to tears! I was wondering if you could do a similar one for him reuniting with Eliza pleaseee 🥺💖

Hey there anon, thank you for your request ! 💖

He's a part 2 of Afterlife during which Arthur reunites with Eliza ! I hope you'll like it ! I made this while listening to The arrival of the Birds, found it quite suitable :')

I'm terribly sorry if the text is not centered or about the overall texture of the subtitles, I lost my template following a Windows update and my brain doesn't seem to work well with Pixlr anymore 💔

➡️ Part 1 of Afterlife with Arthur reuniting with Isaac is right here !

Afterlife - Arthur reunites with Eliza (part2)

I'm afraid this isn't the cut-content Eliza (she has a darker skintone as what I remember), so I used Eliza Sinclair's model instead :')

[thatwriterchick222]

we loved once and true (arthur morgan x mary gillis)

summary: It begins on the ranch owned by Mr. Gillis, where the eighteen-year-old Arthur Morgan is hired as a ranch hand. He is caught off guard when he meets the sixteen-year-old Mary Gillis and they hit it off despite their differences. Travel through the years as Arthur and Mary's relationship begins to grow, going through the highest of highs and the lowest of lows, learning time and time again that the world they live in isn't as romantic as it may seem.

a/n: hey y'all!! so this one is a lot more in depth and ambitious than my usual stuff, because i randomly became hyperfixated on arthur and mary's relationship throughout the years. i liked that the game provided us with some good insight into their relationship but i wanted to go through and create a timeline of events and add details like when and how they met, and also elaborating on arthur's relationship with eliza. while a lot of this most likely isn't cannon, and i did take some creative liberties, i tried to stay as close to the game's timeline and kept everything within the bounds of what the game does tell us. ***disclaimer: towards the end where it actually starts tying in with with the game (1899 and 1907), i used the letters and some of the dialogue provided in the game and built off of it, so all credits go to Rockstar of course.***

**the links to each chapter are available on my masterlist**

see below for an excerpt from chapter 1 (1881):

---------------------

July 12th, 1881

One day, while Arthur was repairing a fence that had been blown over in a storm the night before, he looked up to wipe the sweat from his brow and noticed someone sitting on the back steps of the large ranch house. 

It was a girl. Arthur squinted in the bright sun, adjusting his leather hat on his head. She was wearing a fancy-looking dress and had a book in her hand. 

She was awfully pretty, too.

When Arthur was done with his work, he put his tools away and made his way over to the girl on the steps. She looked up and noticed him approaching, but quickly averted her eyes and looked down at her book.

When he reached her, he cleared his throat. “Miss… Have we met?” He asked casually, taking off his hat with one hand to nod to her. She was young… perhaps Mr. Gillis’s daughter?

She looked up from her book as if pretending that she hadn’t noticed him from afar, but he knew she had. Her eyes were a deep shade of brown, her skin smooth and clean-looking. She had a beauty mark on her cheek that moved when she smiled politely at him.

“I’m Mary.” She closed her book. “Mr. Gillis’s daughter.”

Arthur placed his hat back on his head and smiled before she continued.

“You’re the new ranch hand?”

Arthur wanted to laugh at her question because it seemed obvious that he was. Had she not seen him fixing the fence just before? “Arthur. And, yes.”

“God, I hope my father hasn’t been driving you crazy.” She looked down, shaking her head. 

Arthur shifted awkwardly, placing his hands on his belt. “No… not yet.” He chuckled, lying.

“Good.” The girl looked up at him again, her expression calm. 

Arthur could feel the sun beading down on his back, and his head pound with exhaustion. “Say, could I bother you for a glass of water?”

Mary’s eyes widened, and she practically jumped up, putting her book down on the step. “Of course! You must be parched.”

Arthur smiled, amused by her enthusiasm. “Yeah. If it’s not too much trouble–”

“It’s not.” She began to climb the steps, “I’ll be right back.”

Before he could even thank her, she darted inside, the door closing behind her. Arthur chuckled to himself, pacing slightly on the stone path. She liked how she didn't look at him like some degenerate like everyone else did. She talked to him with honesty, no secret meanings behind kind words.

He looked down at her book that was sitting on the step. He was thankful Bessie and Hosea had taught him how to read because he was able to make out the title: Pride and Prejudice. 

He had never heard of it. Arthur picked up the book, flipping it over in his hand. The cover was rather ornate, dark navy with gold writing and complex designs along the spine. As he opened the cover, he realized that there was some writing inside. Notes, it looked like. Before he could read any of the neat cursive handwriting, the door swung open, and the young woman walked out with a large glass of water.

Arthur quickly closed the book, placing it back down on the step as she noticed him reading it. 

“Sorry,” Arthur said. “I was just curious about what you were readin’.”

Mary smiled, approaching the edge of the step and passing the water down to him. “It’s just a silly romance.”

Arthur took a few large gulps of water as Mary sat back down, placing the book on her lap. “Do you read?” She asked.

Arthur shook his head, wiping his lip with the back of his hand. “No, not really. I’d like to… but I don’t really…”

“I can lend you some.” She stared up at him. 

Arthur paused, wanting to accept her kindness, but also embarrassed that he couldn’t read books like that... yet, at least. He could read basic things, but books? That was a whole other story. He was a ranch hand, not a scholar.

When Mary saw his hesitance, she continued. “It’s no trouble.”

“I… Um–”

“Mary Gillis!” A loud, booming voice interrupted him, and Arthur turned to see Mr. Gillis coming around the side of the house. “There you are.” He looked at her, then at Arthur, and then back at her.

“Yes?” Mary answered, standing up. She clutched her book tightly to her body, and Arthur backed away.

“What are you doing?” The fat man approached them, looking Arthur up and down.

Mary stepped down the stairs, inserting herself between her father and Arthur. She was much shorter than both of them, Arthur felt his cheeks flush at the sight of her so close to him.

“I was reading. And then Arthur needed a glass of water, so I got him one.” Her voice was stern, yet quiet.

The man looked up at Arthur, his eyes angry. “Get back to work.”

Someday, he was going to either kill this man or rob him blind. “Alright.”

“Daddy, don’t be rude–”

The man suddenly grabbed her arm roughly, pulling her with him as he began to leave. Mary made eye contact with Arthur as she was dragged away, and Arthur's heart leapt in his chest.

check out the completed story here on ao3!

[say-hwaet]

Arthur, Eliza, and Isaac.

This little drawing inspired me to write my first fanfiction piece that I ever wrote for Red Dead Redemption. I was proud of it at the time, and while my drawing style (and writing) has grown a little, I still like it, though imperfect it is. 😊

[opha-the-awesome]

Young Arthur and Eliza with their son.

I hope nothing bad happens to them.

[mary-linton]

one huge inconsistency/plot hole is abigail/rest of the women in camp apparently knowing who mary gillis/linton was and I hate it but honestly it kinda makes arthur x mary 10x funnier. they speak to each other about this heartbreaking life changing love that ultimately failed because they were so young and oh it was so long ago when in reality its been like 5 years and they were in their mid 30s.

[say-hwaet]

Honestly, it was questions like these that really had me stumped when working on my headcanon fic Red Dead Revelation. How would it all work?!

After doing some thinking, digging, and pulling out my hair, I came to some conclusions.

Arthur met Mary when he was young, around 19 to his early twenties. They were together for a bit, until it became apparent that he was a “bad boy” and after much disapproval, Mary broke of their engagement.

Arthur was a sad sap for a while, and after robbing their first bank, when he was 24, they left the state (I assume California or Nevada) and he meets Eliza. I assume she’d be 18, as they have some sort of relationship (I don’t think Arthur is the one night stand type) and she gets pregnant at 19. They have a 6 year age gap, so he still thinks she’s a kid, but not too young, in the schemes of the time period.

Isaac lives to be about four years old, and both Eliza and Isaac are killed in 1893, shortly before Abigail joins the gang in 1894, and has Jack in 1895.

How does this explain the gang’s personal knowledge of Mary? That could be either a plot hole or the fact that Mary popped back in once in a while, as she seems to just appear out of nowhere in the game. I mean, c’mon, stalker, much? (Sorry, not sorry). It is easy for anyone to form an opinion of someone they’ve never met, but I think the only two women at camp who actually could have met her were Abigail and Susan. After Jack was born, I think Mary just stopped showing up, if that would be the case at all. Since Abigail mentioning Mary is only if you get the chance to play dominoes, I think it’s more of a plot hole.

On the other hand, I think that if anyone knew about Eliza, they’d definitely say something about it, either as a way to get to Arthur or bring up reasons for why they think he should do a certain thing or behave a certain way. Either way, Eliza and Isaac’s death was the final straw for him and you don’t see him pursue any new relationships, aside from Mary, but that could be the flip of a coin depending on your choices in game.

But this is just my long-winded opinion. 🤠

Rockstar I am BEGGING you

PLEASE, PLEASE, PRETTY PLEASE I need a cannon timeline over who did what when and where because I AM FUCKING CONFUSED SOMETIMES.

Firstly, Arthur Morgan's love life, did when Arthur talks about Eliza saying she was "just a kid" at nineteen, meaning he was most likely around that age too because he didn't think of her as a kid then. So he is 19 when he meets Eliza and from the dialogue you can have with Jack where Arthur compares jack and Isaac, we can assume Isaac was about 4 years old when he died.

So, does that mean they met in 1882? And then five years later they die, meaning 1887 and Arthur is 24? Cool, I can follow that far, BUT WHERE DOES MARY COME IN?? Listen he sounded like he fucking loved at least Isaac and I think man has a mourning period, I mean yes it was a one night stand but look at how respectful he is towards Mary, he wouldn't get over Eliza and Isaac in one night.

Now okay, let's give him a year or two to mourn and also to ya know, meet Mary and fall in love with her. So he is 26 now, cool, however-

BRO YOU DON'T LOOK 26! YOU LOOK YOUNG!

Okay, so let's turn it around, maybe he met Mary first, cool! It matches with the fact that he looks young in the picture, it matches with the fact that they didn't see one another for a long ass time, it matches with a lot! Oh maybe this is- NOPE! THIS IS NOT IT! Why? Well literally all of the girls (except Sadie) have an opinion on her!

Let's take Abigail who is 22 in rdr2 and joined the gang at around 1994, that means Arthur brought Mary to camp at least within the last five years?? But they hadn't talked since Mary got married?? Did Arthur just have a one night stand with Eliza while also being with Mary or something?? Is that it??

Also this picture??

I mean if this is the whole gang at that time does it mean Abigail was the first of the girls to join and Tilly did in fact not join when 12??

BRO I NEED TO KNOW THIS SHIT!! ROCKSTAR GIVE ME A CANNON TIMELINE AND MY LIFE IS YOURRRSSSS

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

✧ Fantasies in the dark

✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Female!Reader ✦ Summary: In which Arthur catches a glimpse of your intimacy, the vision driving him into madness until he finally decides to give in to his urges. ✦ Warnings: SMUT 18+, MDNI! Masturbation, nudity, voyeurism (reader not aware he's staring), self-depreciation, and lots of shame from this poor man. Arthur's pov. ✦ Words: 2,7k Arthur's pic is mine, others are from Pinterest. And as always, as English isn't my first language, prepare for some possible misspellings. Read on AO3

Lately, Arthur had a problem. An incessant, disturbing, haunting problem.

He couldn’t sleep at night.

This could have been related to the gang’s precarious situation, being hunted down by the Pinkertons and surrounded by enemy gangs, O’Driscolls and Lemoyne raiders everywhere. Or even because of some older wounds, the loss of Eliza and Isaac amongst others, reminded almost every day by the complicated family portrait John painted with Abigail and Jack. Or the hurtful thought of the life he never had with Mary that was always following him since he had seen her again near Valentine. Life doomed from the start by his inherent violence and the mountain of corpses he was responsible for.

Arthur had plenty of reasons not to sleep at night. But this wasn’t because of any of that.

He couldn’t sleep because of you. 

Not that it was your fault. In fact, you didn’t even know about any of that and Lord have mercy, he was praying that you’ll never find out; because he would never be able to look at you in the eyes then.

A few weeks ago, the gang had settled at Clemen’s Point. A rather pretty spot just near the lake, and not so far from town. But it wasn’t exactly the place that was causing him trouble. It was the unexpected view he was having from his tent.

For some unknown, mystical reasons, Miss Grimshaw while deciding the camp’s ajancement had decided to place your tent right next to his. Not so big of a problem at first sight, right?

Except that you were a night owl combined with the suffocating warmth of the place. Making you get to bed naked.

Oh, Arthur knew you do, because every night, every single one, you let a candle lit to read, or write, or God knows what before sleeping. The light casts your shadow against the tent’s canvas. The shadow of your very much nude body.

The first night Arthur had noticed, he had come back exhausted from a job in the middle of the night and laid on his cot without even taking the time to remove his boots or hat. A very usual and typical slice of his life, which lately felt more and more like a terribly used one. As if all these slices were repeating again and again. An accumulation of jobs and missions and robberies and fights; deceiving, lying, stealing, killing. Over and over again, going round and round. At night, he was reduced to a slumbered mind in a spent body, that was definitely becoming old and rusty. Already half asleep, mud and twigs surrounding his tired limbs, his thoughts all tangled up like a ball of wool, he had turned his head to his left, reaching from instinct for his pack of cigarettes on the little table next to his bed. Another slice of bad habits from a bad life.

That’s how his eyes had met with this quite erotic shape displayed on your tent.

Said eyes had grown so big that it had fully woken him up all of a sudden, as quickly as if someone had dumped a bucket of iced water on his shocked face. After half of a second of pure stabbing surprise and incomprehension with his hand hanged in the air, his breath stuck in his throat as if really being punched in the gut, he instantly turned his eyes back to the ceiling of his own tent. Cheeks burning red, heart pounding, as if someone had caught him in the act of doing a terribly shameful thing. Exactly as if he had really seen you naked.

He had feverishly grabbed the cigarette pack without looking at it, gaze refusing to turn again, these two blue diamonds locked on the ceiling of his tent, and had messily pulled one out of it, his shaky fingers fumbling, almost spilling everything on the ground.

He must have looked so damn ridiculous.

The smoke helped him to calm down, its soothing and comforting feeling spreading and burning through his lungs. He had fallen asleep, turned to the other side facing the wagon, trying not to think too much about the peek of your intimacy he had witnessed, telling himself it probably was going to be an isolated incident. 

But of course, of course the Lord had to torment him even in the rare moments of peace he could have enjoyed.

Turns out this was apparently a habit of yours. 

To be honest, he probably deserved to be tormented. But this was years from what he had in mind when it came to the Lord's punishment for his life of crimes.

And Arthur, even though a hardened man in many ways, able to lock lips during torture, kill men with bare hands, and stay emotionally strong in any kind of situation, was still only, after all, a man. A man with needs.

Filthy, disgusting needs.

He had tried to resist. Had tried not to let his eyes slip in your direction like that first night. Sometimes he would allow himself a quick glance, just to check if you were wearing any clothes for once, like a normal person. And maybe the night after would be different? Every evening spent at camp, his pupils would end up brushing the sinful silhouette in just a soft, slight sight, as if not to scare you, as if not to feel too bad about it.

But it was getting harder and harder not to stare. The easy lies about just checking on you or looking at anything else in the same area as your tent to have the chance of winning a glimpse of you would soon not be enough.

Just the mere fact that he knew you were completely bare, only a few meters away from him, singly the thin and superficial fabric of the tent between the both of you, was getting him hard and sweaty, and making his blood boil as a virgin teenage boy would. He could almost physically feel it, like a burning presence in his back when he was sleeping head against the wagon's wall.

The Human mind may be well designed for a lot of things; it forgets an event too hard to carry or can trick you into thinking you're not experiencing any physical pain in extreme situations. But Arthur had learned that it was extremely poorly made when it came to ignoring something. The more he was trying to not think about his unholy urges, the more he ended up being plagued with them. As sure as the seasons always turned in circles, you would come back to his effusive psyche.

And Oh, he was ashamed. Ashamed and revolted by himself. This was absolutely not in his habits, all the contrary. Yes, he was an old miserable bastard who had killed and plundered. But for God's sake, he had never acted obscene towards a lady before.

But the shame wasn't enough for him to stop. On the nights when the guilt was at its lowest —when the tediousness of his days was nibbling at his patience, he had let his eyes wander to your sinful figure, telling himself that maybe if he did, he could just go on with his night and finally rest. Just a quick taste, not too long.

But it only made things worse. It made him dream of you. 

Dream of you stripped, his imagination taking the lead of what the tent’s fabric was preventing him from seeing. Dream of you moaning, taking him so tightly, welcoming him in your warm body and into your arms. Dream of the feeling of your skin under his fingertips, of the sight of your naked body squirming with pleasure. He would now often wake up frustrated and angry, if he had succeeded in sleeping at all, his member hard and throbbing on its own, his heart beating powerfully in his chest as if it had been real. His pants and blanket had even been damped one or two times. 

What was he, a fifteen-year-old boy again? He was so angry and mortified by the physical obsession his body was having with you that he was constantly in a foul and fiery mood;  bitter with everyone, his tension leaking into every movement and every word he spoke. He started missing targets when shooting, getting even more reckless and hot-headed during jobs, jobs often ending up missed or taken care of negligently, yelling at people when they weren’t fast enough, or clever enough, or silent enough, breaking things, breaking rules. The lack of sleep was making his deadly efficiency fade away, replaced by sloppy and messy gestures, stopping enemies from falling dead at his feet like his lethal skills always did, castrating the only thing that was left of his masculinity.

And yet, he couldn’t stop watching you from afar during the time he was at camp, telling himself he knew, or at least had an idea, of what you looked like without these clothes on; feeling a twisted sensation of pride imagining he was the only one who did. On top of that, your sweet personality and beautiful face weren’t helping him at all with his addiction. Filthy old bastard, stop it- he had to mentally slap himself to prevent staring at you for too long, especially staring at your chest that this goddamn dress you had chosen to wear wasn’t covering at all; or your ass these goddamn pants were fitting way too well.

Tonight, Arthur is avoiding going to bed too early. He knows he would just lay in it waiting for you anyway. Instead, he goes for a walk along Flat Iron Lake’s shores, bringing his journal with him. Two entire pages are already dedicated to your shadow. He had no idea a picture exclusively made of black and white flats on a sheet could have such a powerful erotic effect. Or maybe he is a complete degenerate —which, he is sure, is more and more true.

He has to be honest with himself, he could just go to a hotel, or out of camp for a few days to sleep under the stars, and the matter would be settled.

But he doesn’t want to. Because deep down inside, his urges are winning, making him feel like the most foolish and weakest man alive. He enjoys watching you. He enjoys seeing those forbidden plumped curves cast on this canvas. He feels like you're not leaving him any mercy, pitiless, his days dictated by the wait for his taboo rendez-vous, his nights by your sensual apparitions in his dreams.

He is trapped, you have completely tamed him, and irony of it all, have absolutely no idea you are making him feel like this.

This woman is drivin' me insane.

After a few hours on the cold shore's sand, his fingers only capable of creating quick little sketches and scribbles, his feet lead him back to camp. What a surprise. He finds most of the gang's members already asleep, apart from the ones on guard duty and some late campfire enjoyers talking about life, about love, grief, the future, the past. He briefly nods at them without a word and walks to his private space. He already knows what’s waiting for him there, your tent looking like it’s still illuminated, his thoughts and body avid for it.

No, don’t be a fool, Morgan.

He sits down on his cot. Mumbles to himself orders and curses to try and stay reasonable. Takes off his hat, runs a hand through his hair, sticky with sweat and dirt from his busy day, as all the other ones, as always. Scratches his beard and his ears with a sniff, tells himself he needs to take a swim into that lake. That he’s as dirty on the inside as he’s on the outside. Pulls down his suspenders before stretching his shoulders, a pained groan escaping him. A cigarette joins his lips, a match lights it, and he breathes in slowly. He tries to calm down, focusing once again on this homey feeling it brings him. 

But his brows furrows. His lips tighten. He knows he won’t be able to hold on much longer. He needs to sleep properly. Even being the all-mighty Titan he is, he still needs a good night of sleep from time to time to keep the engine of his body turning, and you have kept it from him for days.

He lies to himself promising this is only for his health.

That this is the only way for him to stay focused during the day; the only way to rest properly and be at his best again tomorrow.

That this will be the only time he’ll do that.

His only moment of weakness. 

The still-lit cigarette and his good conscience fall to the ground as he lies on his cot, settled on his left side, his right hand already roaming on his lower belly. 

His eyes drop on the scene he had fantasized about for what seems like years to him at this point.

Lord have mercy…

Your shadow looks so perfect. He takes his sweet time to notice every detail of it, enjoying to the maximum his sinful behavior, now that he had succumbed to it. How you’re laying on your back, reading your book with your legs crossed. The curvaceous shape of your body looks divine to his insatiable gaze. Your hair messily tangled around your head. The silhouette of your chin and throat making him hungrier than any feast he could have attended. Your belly, rising and falling with your chest and breasts, gives the shadow an organic appearance. Your delicate legs, from the base of your thighs to your calves, to your feet, your toes mindlessly curling as you get lost in your story. And of course, the blurry outline of what was between them…

Damn it.

His hand quickly reaches his belt, unbuckles it,  fiddles with his pants, opens them carelessly in an urgent grip. He spits in his palm, lashes out at himself when the desire of it being your wetness instead crosses his mind, and slips it between the buttons of his union suit. It finally wraps around his desperate shaft, gorged with blood, and he wonders if he already had been this hard before.

The moment he feels the pressure of his own fingers around it, he can’t help but sigh deeply through his nose, and has to physically block the groan he was about to let out.

Make no noise, moron.

He bites his lips to stop any other immoral sound from crossing through his mouth. Last thing he needs right now is to get caught. He slowly rubs one languorous time from up to down, then up again, his fingers brushing his swollen head right where he needs to. He instantly knows he won’t last. He had dreamed about this, about you, both during days and nights. His eyes are locked on your tantalizing silhouette, this deiform delicious flesh. Goddess of the night, Queen of his desires.

His hand rubs once again and his muscles tighten. He starts to stroke in a rhythmic pace, his moves are efficient, messy, careless. He masturbates the same way he takes care of himself —quickly, roughly, as if matching his disgust towards his own self. The exact opposite of what he would do to you if he could. This is pure physical relief.

Yes, God, yes…

Your name turns in his mind between blasphemous curses as he pleasures himself, stroking faster and faster, delightful warm sensations spreading through him. Finally. The burning is no longer in his back or mind; it's right there around his erection, flames licking all around it.

He wants to be able to join you there, so badly. He wants to discover the tone of your bare skin in those places you never show to anyone. He wants to whisper sweet things in your ear and you to sigh back, your voice high and softly shaking from pleasure. He wants the lewd intimacy, the shared tension and the electric, exciting touch of two foreign skins discovering each other for the first time. He wants to see your hardening nipples he can only have a glimpse of through the fabric. 

He wants to have you, to take you, consume you, all to himself. He wants you to think about him the same way he is now, wants you to come while thinking of him, only him, your mouth to moan, whimper, scream even, all thanks to him. 

He wants your hand instead of his, around his cock right now, pressing harder, moving faster.

Yes, yes, jus’ a bit more darlin’… -

A movement from you, a real one, makes his pace slow down and his heart stops, afraid you might have by some sort of divine knowledge understood what was happening. But you’re just shifting in your bed, positioning yourself on your belly with your book open against your pillow, and Arthur’s balls spasm; he now has the most perfect view of your ass, its gorgeous, decadent round and plumped contour making his member twitch in his fist.

Ahh, shit… So god damn perfect… 

Pearls of sweat leak from his forehead to his neck. His ears shut close to the outside world, his surroundings completely disappearing. Now, there’s only you and your perfect back beautifully arched ending with your perfect bottom and him, and no one else’s on Earth. His breath is jerky, his entire face completely crimson, his fingers pumping so hard and fast he’s basically fucking his hand —your hand, with those wet and unmistakable noises filling the air.

His breath speeds up as Arthur feels his deliverance coming, blood rushing in his veins. He sees himself behind you grabbing fistfuls of your cheeks, he sees his erection diving deep between them. And it's the last straw. His brows are crunched in an exquisite expression of pure sexual delight, jaws so tensed he’s about to break his teeth, your pleasure-filled voice screaming his name in his head, dragging every sensation out of him. His orgasm hit him with the strength and speed of a thunderstorm, lightning bolts of satisfaction striking every fiber of his body.

 Yes! Yesss  —Damnit! 

He comes hard with a low and throaty growl he forgot to —or couldn't repress, silently repeating your name again and again, his lower lip almost cut open from how hard he had bit himself, an enormous vein on his forehead where sweat covers his skin. His thick, hot cum spills messily in an indecently large amount, the aftermath of having held himself back for so long, leaking on his pants and fingers and staining his cot; a dash of white contrasting with the darkness of what he just did.

He’s praying to the Lord and the Devil, any mystical forces known to man, that nobody had heard his final relief sound, especially not you. It was louder than what he would like to admit.

Shit, so damn good…

Using his black bandana, he roughly cleans himself then tosses it somewhere on the floor, his cock finally softening as he shoves it back under his clothes, balls empty. And it feels good. So good a wave of shame and guilt crashes onto him once more. What a pig he was for jerking off while ogling you. What an old bastard he was to mingle you and his filth. But at the same time, he feels like his muscles are thanking him, his restless flesh satisfied, even though he almost hurt himself with how fast he had stroked, lost in his haze.

His bittersweet and contradictory feelings accompanied him as he took a last glance at your tent before drifting off to sleep, his breathing still a bit raspy as if he had run for hours. You had closed your book and taken the candle between your hands to blow on it, the little flame flickering before fading. And then, darkness.

The curtains falling on the stage at the end of this private decadent act.

Eyelids heavy, Arthur knows he will finally sleep tonight.

But he also knows this isn’t the end of his torments at all; the conflicting thoughts paint his mind just as the sun pierces through the dark ebony clouds of a thunderstorm, creating those abruptly dazing shapes and color, pitch black laced with blinding light.

Never in this life or the Other he will forget the form of your naked body, no matter how wicked he feels. Because when it comes to you and only you, Arthur Morgan is, indeed, a very weak man.

tagging : @a-court-of-valkyries and @zae-heeyyy