#Flat Iron Lake
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#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption ii#red dead redemption two#arthur morgan#red dead redemption arthur#flat iron lake#red dead redemption photography#in game photography#pc gaming#vgedit#camera tools#**rdr2#**
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Hosea, Dutch, Kieran and Phil The Crab
#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#red dead redemption two#rockstar games#video games#vandermatthews#hosea matthews#dutch van der linde#vdm#hosea x dutch#dutch x hosea#rdr2 hosea#rdr2 dutch#hosea rdr2#dutch rdr2#Kieran Duffy#Kieran#van der linde gang#vdl gang#Flat Iron Lake#Big Valley#rdr2 photography#red dead redemption 2 photography#virtual photography#virtual photographer#gaming photography#cowboys#old west#rdr2 community#red dead redemption 2 community
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🌊✨ Welcome to Clemens Point! In Red Dead Redemption 2, this peaceful peninsula serves as the perfect hideout for the Van der Linde gang during some of their most intense moments. Uncover its secrets, history, and the challenges they faced in this stunning location.
🦁 What were your favorite moments at Clemens Point? Did you find the hidden treasures? Let us know!
#Clemens Point#Red Dead Redemption 2#RDR2#Van Der Linde Gang#Scarlett Meadows#Gaming#Video Games#Game Lore#Open World Games#Camp Life#Arthur Morgan#Charles Smith#Flat Iron Lake#Gaming Community#Game Exploration#Hidden Treasures#Game Secrets#RDR2 Storyline#Historical Gaming#Adventure Games#Tranquil Locations#Game Analysis#Game Narrative#Looting#Character Development#Gaming History#Action in RDR2#Gamer Life#Interactive Storytelling#RDR2 Camp
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a touch of emotion
Connor x Reader
Summary: After the meeting with Kamski, Connor feels conflicted and lost, luckily you're there to hold his hand through it.
A/N: DBH is one of my main comfort games, and it was about time I wrote a little something for my favorite boy from it. If anyone would like to see more of Connor here, let me know. <3
Masterlist
"Why didn't you shoot?" Hank inquires, narrowing his eyes inquisitively.
"I just saw that girl's eyes… And I couldn't…" Connor answers back, his voice edging on desperate. "That's all."
A howling wind prickles your skin like tiny needles. It was such a cold day, no wonder you hadn't been keen on coming out here today. Leaning back on the hood of Hank's car and pulling your coat tighter around yourself, you watch from afar as Connor tries to justify his choice, even if it had been the right one to make.
He intrigues you. Because for someone who keeps saying he's just a machine trying to accomplish a task, he acts way more human than a lot of people you know. Even on the day you'd met him, he was already all curious and talkative, you couldn't recall meeting any android like him before.
Connor has changed ever since you started working together, you realize it now more than ever. He's becoming softer, personality starting to shine through the cracks as his decisions become increasingly emotionally driven.
"Cyberlife's last chance to save humanity, is itself a deviant."
Kamski's words echoed inside your mind, as did Connor's panicked and distressed expression when he promptly denied it. Ironic, you think to yourself; he shouldn't feel as troubled as he does if what Kamski said is not true.
And that same feeling now lingers. Once they were done talking, Hank took a few steps away to make a call, most likely to the precinct judging by the scowl on his face; and Connor can't stand still, he's pacing around, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blazer as the snow shifts under his feet. There's a permanent frown on his eyebrows, he looks almost… lost, his LED with an insistent yellow color and gaze unfocused on the distance.
You worry your lower lip between your teeth, torn between reaching out to him or keeping to yourself. The snow falls heavier now, and you can feel the tips of your fingers slowly going numb. You've always liked the cold, yet it seems the cold doesn't like you.
Between the snow, the frozen lake, and the white horizon of the frigid weather, Connor stands out. He's holding onto his own arms, hugging himself, and you find it endearingly human, as if he's subconsciously trying to find a way to comfort himself.
You lay your palms flat on the hood of the car and push yourself away, walking up to him before you can think things through. The snow crunching under your feet doesn't seem to call his attention. "Connor?" You say gently, reaching out to him with your hand but stopping short of actually touching him. You hesitate. When did he start making you nervous?
"You okay?"
Those warm and tender brown eyes of his regard you with curiosity, lips half parted as he struggles on what to say. The LED on his temple switched from blue to yellow and blue again. "I- yes. I think I'm fine." Snowflakes are clinging to his hair and falling softly onto the skin of his cheeks; they compliment his features, always so gentle.
You offer him a small, comforting smile. He's still figuring himself out. It was okay, you were patient.
"I'm… sorry," Connor begins again, avoiding looking you directly in the eyes. He purses his lips and closes his eyes for a moment longer, and you doubt you've ever seen any android be this expressive.
"I compromised our investigation," he pauses, "I should have been more efficient." And reprimands himself.
You're shaking your head before he's even done talking. "No, don't say that," you take a step closer to him as your heart holds your reasoning hostage, one hand wrapping around Connor's wrist to keep him with you. "Don't say that when you've made the right choice, Connor."
There was a beat, Connor's face does something complicated that you cannot read, and when he looks up at you again, his gaze is almost too much. The amount of emotion he looked at you with nearly made you choke on air.
"But… we didn't learn anything." His voice is quiet, barely there, as if he doesn't care for his own argument and is only looking for an excuse to hear more of your voice.
"I don't care," the words fall from your lips before you can debate if you should even be saying them out loud at all.
Connor seems surprised, caught off guard as his eyebrows raise just slightly at how fast and true you spoke. His eyes keep searching your face for… something. You couldn't be sure of what exactly he was looking for. Maybe even he doesn't know yet.
Your heart stumbles on your chest when you see Connor gulping and his eyes avoiding yours again. Only then do you realize that the hand you held his wrist with had drifted lower, your fingers now gently grazing his palm. His skin feels comfortingly warm and soft, a pleasant touch sending goosebumps down your spine.
It was all foreign territory to him, you knew it, felt it in the way he tried timidly closing his fingers around your own. His movements are slow, uncertain, and tentative, bordering on afraid.
How naive of you, to be having such feelings for an android. Yet when he's the most caring, honest, endearing, and gentle person you know, how could you not?
Hank told you once; "I think you're breaking our android huh." He'd said it right after Connor had gone through the trouble of finding an umbrella just so you didn't have to stand under the heavy rain, even if you tried telling him you didn't mind. And you'd taken it as a joke back then, not really understanding the hidden meaning behind your older partner's teasing look.
Yet as you hold onto Connor's hand now, feeling the way his thumb shyly brushes your skin, you wonder if he feels it too, if he's willing to feel the same as you do. If you could dare to hope.
"All I care about," you speak slow and careful, syllables heavy on your tongue. You clear your throat so your voice doesn't sound as tender as you feel. "is that… that you didn't let him manipulate you, that you followed your heart." You bring your free hand up to his chest, right on top of where you can faintly feel his thirium pump working overtime.
Connor looked to be about to speak, perhaps to try and correct you about your choice of words, yet all he does is open and close his mouth, eyes trained on yours and LED swirling with a permanent yellow color. For a moment you wonder if he's analyzing you, and worry about what he may find. His hold on your hand tightens ever so slightly; you don't think he realizes he's doing it.
"I'm glad you didn't pull the trigger, Connor. I'm proud of you."
It's barely a second, his LED flashing red before going back to yellow and eventually, slowly, blue; but you see it. He blinked a couple of times as if processing your words or how to feel about them.
"I-" Connor's eyes seem hazy, their tender brown only a thin ring around his blown pupils. His fingers now tangle with yours. "I feel-"
"Alright kids, let's go." Hank's voice sounds all too loudly as he unintentionally breaks the bubble that cocooned you and Connor. "Fowler wants us back in the precinct." The lieutenant speaks with an annoyed undertone as he stuffs his phone back in his pocket.
You're still caught up in the feeling of Connor's skin on yours, in how you're now so hyper-aware of just how close he's standing to you. Connor, it seems, isn't much different.
When there's no answer, Hank finally looks your way and gestures you over; "come on, get a move on, I don't wanna hear another lecture about arriving late," he insists, before plopping himself into the driver's seat, murmuring something about damn love-birds.
Despite the cold, you can feel a warmth coming up to your cheeks. Without mustering the courage to meet Connor's gaze, you focus on the way his hand fits so perfectly with yours. His fingers are awkwardly intertwined with yours, holding strong and gentle at the same time.
Connor seems reluctant to let go. It hits you that perhaps he won't. You could dwell on a thousand reasons of why, or not think at all and simply bask in the feeling. But right now time isn't on your side.
You take a deep breath, and risk a glance up at him.
Any words you were about to say suddenly feel clogged up in your throat. Oh, Connor tilts his head in that endearing way you're so fond of, yet the look in his eyes is one you've never caught before; you can't name it, it feels dangerous to try, but he looks as if he just realized something.
"Come on," you tug on his hand, just about managing the timid words, "we have to go."
Connor follows quietly, his hand steady on yours until you reach the car and are forced to part.
As Hank drives, you watch Connor through the rearview mirror; there's a newfound lightness to him, a warmth to his eyes that makes you feel fuzzy inside. And when he catches your gaze, and smiles, you know he feels it too.
⋆* ☾ ⋆*・゚:⋆*・゚
Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keeps me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment. <3
You do not have permission to repost, copy, or translate my works on any platforms (even with credit), please respect.
Connor’s taglist: @milkiane@v1ci0us
#connor dbh x reader#connor rk800#connor rk800 x reader#dbh connor#connor imagine#detroit become human#dbh#dbh rk800#connor x reader#connor x you#dbh x reader#imagine#fanfic#angst#fluff#my story
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I am being brave and wandering into your ask box so you can ramble about the ghost au. It looks neat and I'm so curious owo
YAY YEAH YIPPEE!!!
Okay I'm just gonna try and synthesize all of the random notes I've written in the last few days into something of a vaguely coherent list lol
Grian and Joel are roommates looking for a new flat when they get the call that Grian has inherited a house, they very impulsively and foolishly decide to keep the thing that is way too large and far too run down for the two of them to handle, the house is so incredibly haunted, normal bbc ghosts plot ensues
Grian is the one who almost dies and ends up being able to see ghosts. Mumbo is the one who pushes him out the window. Which is ironic bc Mumbo was very much not pro killing the new inhabitants of the house when the other ghosts were scheming ways to get rid of them.
Okay so ghost facts.
Bdubs is obviously highly based on Robin the caveman, I imagine him being slightly closer to the end of the paleolithic period than Robin. I think he may or may not have had some weird cult stuff going in. Weird cult leader caveman guy worshiping the sun and moon. Yes the cloak is real moss. There's bugs in that thing
Wels and Hels killed eachother in a duel, right on the property line, which now neither of them can cross in death. So now both of them is just stuck on either side of the fence seething about it for the rest of time. I like how ridiculous and arbitrary the ghost property line rules are in ghosts, so I find this incredibly funny. Hels is the guy Black Knight stories are based on
Ren wasn't actually a king, he was some type of noble who tried to declare himself king of a specific area, hence the beheading. Whooooooo let's go treason!!
Cleo was not doing actual witch craft at the time she was accused of it, she was however probably doing other illegal and vaguely fucked stuff. Mayhaps that's why she was accused, someone wanted her out of the way and that was an easy and surefire way to get rid of her
Keralis. My silly silly little guy. Our Kitty stand in. I just thought the idea of him dying from pufferfish poisoning was really funny considering him and XB's whole thing. I wanna have XB around, I can't decide if I want him to be a marine biologist of some kind who drowned on the next property over that keralis talks to over the fence, or if he's just like a grounds keeper who takes care of the lake next door that keralis is parasocially obsessed with lol
Beef. Beef my beloved. Period piece romance novel protagonist looking mf <3 He grew up in a family of butchers, became an impressionist painter instead of joining the family business. Focused a lot on pastoral scenes, especially stuff involving farm animals and especially cows. His family thought his career choice was kind of useless and frivolous, his artist colleagues thought his choice of painting subject was kind of frivolous. That's where he got the nickname 'Beef', now it's all anyone remembers him by, AND the fucking paints killed him 😔
Scar!!! The scammiest fucking traveling salesman on the planet. Death of a Salesman death of the American dream type vibes on that guy. He's gotta pay his medical bills somehow man, can't even really blame him for all the grifting. He probably should've been more careful with who he was scamming though, he maybe pissed off the wrong guy (do not scam mobsters! They will have someone kill you about it!)
Xisuma, given the greatest honor of being my Captian stand in. He was a sharp shooter, until his eye got fucked up and he lost his good aim. They shipped him off to the country side to work in 'intelligence', he takes his job very seriously despite this obviously just being somewhere they put him to not have to deal with him. Seriously enough in fact to discover a spy in their ranks! Just in time for that spy to kill him real bad. Damn.
Joe my absolutely beloved. Pat stand in but not quite. He was a popular radio host, he did a lot of volunteer work as a voice/performer for hire. He gets recruited to do some announcer work for a scouting event. There is, mayhaps, a much more. Uh. DIY. Scouting event happening on the next property over. There is an accident involving some homemade fireworks next door (cubfan. when I get you cubfan.), the fireworks going off scares some kid in the middle of fucking around with a bow, Joe gets shot, you can assume the rest. Cub is ghosting around next door cause of the fireworks accident if it makes you feel any better lol
Mumbo my stupid nervous guy. Ran a large tech startup in the late 90s, should not have been given that kind of power over a company. Accidentally did like. A lot of finance crime. Found out about said finance crime and immediately had a fucking heartattack and died from the panic. My cringe fail businessman I love you
Yeah yeah okay so neighbor ghosts. Cub, Hels, maybe XB, and Gem.
Etho is their weird annoying neighbor, he can also see ghosts, but it'll take awhile for everyone to figure that out.
In the same way Grian can see ghosts bc Mumbo tried to kill him, Etho can see ghosts bc Hels tried to kill him (haven't decided how exactly that went down yet)
I've been thinking about what to do with the basement ghosts and I think I want to put team zits down there.
Uh. Other human cast. Jimmy is around! He kind of fills an Obi type role, silly friend who is just kind of around a lot. I think I wanna have Lizzie as like a local barista Joel has a crush on. The ghosts get in his way every time he tries to make a move on her.
Obviously a lot of the ghosts aren't strict one to one fill ins for the original show's ghosts. Ren and Beef are both kind of drawing elements from both Thomas and Humphrey, Wels and X are both kind of drawing from Fanny and Cap, Scar and Mumbo both kind of combine to make up Julian's character. So on and so forth. All of the stuff with Etho and his property's ghosts is obviously all stuff I just did cause I thought it was fun lol
Oh yeah! Ghost powers! Okay obvious stuff, Bdubs has Robin's ability to fuck with lights, Cleo has the same burning smell as Mary, Mumbo can push stuff like Julian. Non obvious stuff. I want Joe to be able to be heard through like radios and phones and such. Hels has to have something to have almost killed Etho but I've yet to decide what that is. If Hels has something I think it would be funny to then have Wels also have the same power, but like. Weaker. So he can be pissy about it. Obviously.
Uh yeah that's all i can think of off the top of my head
Anyways, yeah!!! That's the basic constructions of this au. I had this idea like 3 days ago and have. Obviously thought about it a lot in that time lmao
You can't put two pieces of media in front of me and not expect me to go insane about it <3
#atlas speaks#hc ghosts au#I've gotten like 5 other asks in the time it took me to type all this omg#I'll go through those in a bit to see if there's anything i can elaborate on#I'm so glad people like this au it's infested my brain so fucking bad#glad i can inflict it on other people#long post
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Rosemary
Summary: who would have thought that a small piece of paper could be the very thing that would crush your dreams with Arthur ? part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4
AO3 link (better rewritten version of this fic on ao3)
pairing: Arthur Morgan x f!reader
content: suggestive, angst, hurt/no comfort (for now) probs grammar errors srryy
wc: 2k
a/n: hear me out, I thought about writing a jealous!reader oneshot with Arthur but,, I got a bit carried away and so many ideas came into my mind so I was thinking about making this a mini series with a pt.2. Let me know if you’d be interested in a pt.2 <33 (gif from pinterest)
Nothing was more relaxing to you than fixing some of Arthur’s shirts and pants while sitting outside your shared tent.
Seated on a small cushion placed on the ground with your back against one of Arthur’s chests your hands worked delicate but precise movements mending the cotton of his favorite black shirt. The rays of light sparkling from the east coast of the flat iron lake at Clemens Point casting a golden halo around you and the usual buzzing of camp making you feel at ease, letting you loose yourself in your thoughts.
During these moments your mind often drifted to thoughts about you and Arthur, the way he would make you feel all warm inside like a young naive teenager with just his soft glances and loving touches, how he would make you dream some of the craziest things for a couple of outlaws like yourselves like having a proper family with him, getting proper married before god and maybe even owning your very own ranch at some point.
Your dreamy stream of thoughts was soon interrupted as Mary Beth’s light footsteps on the dry grass could be heard coming towards your direction, with a strange expression you couldn’t quite decipher on her face and a small letter in her hands. As she saw you sitting down near yours and Arthur’s tent her fair features twisted into an anxious manner, her expression resembling the one of someone who just ate a whole lemon in one go, her steps faltering almost imperceptibly before continuing her path towards your shared tent.
“Hiya Miss,” she said in a chirpy tone, her voice higher than usual as she stopped in front of you, her eyes looking around avoiding your confused gaze as she played with the paper edge of the letter in her delicate hands.
“Arthur hasn’t come back yet ?” Strange. Her voice cracked a little at the end. She quickly cleared her throat with a small smile. Mary Beth's usual cordial and friendly façade cracked the more she was near you, letting you see her unusual unease.
“‘M afraid not, he said he was going into town for some ‘deputy thing’ with the Grays, why ? Did something happen ?” you replied imitating Arthur’s low voice and accent as you put down his shirt which was now fixed and your sewing kit. At your failed attempt at imitating his accent Mary Beth let out a small laugh, covering her smile with her free hand, relaxing just a tiny bit before regaining her previous composure.
Smoothing out the white envelope in her hands she handed it over to you, as you took it you couldn’t help but notice the sender’s name written in what you called a ‘fancy cursive’. You weren’t exactly good at reading or writing but the fancy ink swirls made out a familiar name.
The sender was Mary Linton.
“It’s for Arthur, it arrived this morning,” she told you looking at you with something in her eyes you couldn’t quite make out. Was it a shared distaste for the woman in question or was it perhaps pity toward you what you could see reflected in her eyes ?
You weren’t a stranger to who Mary Linton was, having joined the gang when you were eighteen and Arthur fresh of twenty-six you knew who Mary was, how she was Arthur’s first love, the woman he almost married if it wasn’t for her strict father not approving his lifestyle. The woman who completely shattered his heart.
You knew that after his breakup with Mary he was distraught, drinking and sleeping around almost every night before eventually getting one of the girls he slept with pregnant with his son Isaac. How he, from time to time, went to Eliza’s cabin and visited them, never failing to bring sweets and shiny toys for his Isaac who met him with a toothy little smile every time Arthur visited them until one day the only thing Arthur was met was an empty robbed cabin and Eliza’s lifeless body hugging Isaac’s one.
For almost a year you helplessly witnessed Arthur, the gang’s main enforcer, spiraling more and more into a toxic lifestyle. He began to drink more, often found sitting near the campfire drunk every night, his actions during jobs sloppy and reckless not sparing a single ounce of mercy for whoever dared to wrong him. His mood around camp bringing everyone down until one day you decided you had enough.
He had just come back from a job went wrong with Hosea, the older man's sour mood perceptible from miles away as he hitched his horse and quickly walked away to his tent, leaving Arthur behind talking pretty much to himself how it wasn’t his fault and he didn’t do anything wrong, the pungent scent of alcohol surrounding the space around him. Seeing the scene in front of you you quickly put down your cleaning rag and marched towards him giving him a loud earful in front of everyone in camp not caring that he was a 6’1 massive killing machine of an outlaw and eight years older than you and that you were the last addition to camp making you a nobody in the eyes of what was basically Dutch’s golden child. You simply had enough.
From that moment onwards Arthur started to get better, letting go of his usual whisky bottle and surprisingly starting to pay attention to you rather than avoiding or despising you, eyeing you with respect each time you expressed your opinion around camp, coming to your tent almost every night for advice or just to talk about life opening up to you about his family and past love building day by day an unexpected friendship which blossomed years later into your current relationship.
Seeing her name now again after so many years left you with a sour taste in your mouth.
You took the letter and placed it on Arthur’s nightstand as you thanked Mary Beth and began to tidy up your things.
The sky was beginning to lose its rosy color making space for a deep blue when Arthur came back, the gallop of his and Dutch horses announcing their arrival into camp.
You were chatting with Karen and Javier at the round table near the fire when you felt his hand on your shoulder, the scent of wood and gunpowder filling your nose letting you relax under his soft touch. He bent down to quickly kiss your cheek, a small show of pda which left you all warm inside, almost letting you forget about the letter. Almost.
“Hello sweetheart,” he said in his usual low tone near your ear, a shiver traveling down your spine at his vicinity a soft blush making its way into your cheeks.
“Miss Jones, Javier” he greeted your company before taking your hand in his calloused one letting you up from your seat and guiding you towards his tent leaving Karen and Javier sharing knowing glances between them.
As soon as you walked into your shared tent he made quick work of closing the flap before taking your face in his hands and kissing you. His soft kisses soon turned into hungry ones as his right hand left your soft cheek to trace down your neck then your collarbones before settling on your hips using your hips to guide you to lay on the bed.
“missed ya a lot today sweetheart,” he breathed on your neck as he positioned himself on top of you before kissing your sensitive spot, your eyes closed as your soft hands traveled onto his hair, tugging at his dirty blonde strands.
“got you in my mind the whole day, damn near made Dutch real name slip in front of them Grays. Jus’ couldn’t help but think ‘bout your pretty face.” he continued to kiss your sensitive skin, his words and his lips working like magic on you. His hands exploring your body inch by inch toying with the buttons of your white shirt.
As you open your eyes to look at Arthur you couldn’t help but remember the envelope sitting on his bedside table.
“Arthur,” you sighed trying to keep your voice stable but failing miserably as his teeth playfully bit your neck. The pleasure and the warmth of his body on top of yours was heavenly making you melt like butter under his touch but you were too curious to see what was in that letter to continue, your hands came on his shoulders to try and get the man off of you. “darling you, fuck, you’ve got a letter.”
As soon as you finished your sentence Arthur stopped his actions at once, his hands dropping on the soft mattress before getting up into a seated position beside you. He sighed as he ran his hands into his hair before taking the letter, his eyes quickly scanning the sender’s name before opening the envelope.
As his eyes read the elegant handwritten letter of Mary you couldn’t help but feel your heart beat out of your chest with anticipation, you knew it was stupid to feel this way but you couldn’t help but worry. Why is she mailing him after all these years of radio silence ? What did she want from him and how exactly did she know how to contact him ?
Deciding it was best to feign ignorance than to straight up get defensive and be viewed as possessive with Arthur you scooted closer to him, your head resting on his shoulder as you asked, trying your best to keep your façade, from who was the letter.
“Mh, nobody jus’ a sorry fellow I met.”
Your heart sank.
He lied to you. He lied to you without even an ounce of hesitation. A small ‘Oh’ left your lips as you didn’t know exactly how to respond, mind racing with many thoughts, the knowledge of his lie felt like an iced bucket of water was thrown at you, freezing you in your spot unable to move. A sense of nausea overtaking your body.
With a swift movement, he folded the letter and put it in the bottom drawer of the nightstand where other papers filled the small space. Turning back to face you he put one of his large hands on your cheeks caressing you with a delicacy that in that moment only made you further nauseous about the situation. His lips met your forehead, then your nose descending further down to your lips, too caught up in your thoughts you sat there unmoving. Arthur sensed your unusual attitude.
“y’alright sweetheart ?” he asked, you internally scoffed at his seemingly concerned expression. The nerve he had to be asking you that after he blatantly lied to your face.
“yeah just tired that’s all.” you dismissed him shifting on the bed and laying down on your side of the bed. You needed space to think, your mind going haywire. Was this the first time she mailed him ? Why was that as soon as you mentioned a letter he seemed to already know it was from her ? Why did Mary Beth act so strange when giving you the letter ? Why did he lie ? Why.
You wished you could let this go, forget about everything and melt back into his warm embrace, but you couldn’t. You had to find out what was going on.
Later that night when the outlaw was fast asleep beside you and the only sounds that could be heard were his soft snores that filled the space in your tent you found out that the other papers in the drawer were not random papers.
The drawer was full of Mary’s letters.
#.rira’s posting ౨ৎ ⋆#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x you#arthur morgan fic#arthur morgan angst#rdr2 fanfic#arthur morgan#rdr2 arthur#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#red dead fandom
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Fishing in the dark | Arthur Morgan / Reader
Word Count : 1.3k (a little guy) Summary : You and Arthur have a private evening away from camp on the Dakota River. Warnings/tags : Cursing, unprotected piv, talk of nudity (both male and female), cursing, reader can swim, s3x in the river, established relationship, set in chapter 3
The Dakota River was now your favorite place to be at sunset. The cool breeze coming off the sparkling water, your body cushioned by the bed of grass. The way the setting sun cast a golden light over everything it touched.
Getting away from the gang for a while had been Arthur’s greatest idea yet. After all that mess in Valentine had led you to Clemens point. Sat on the east coast of Flat Iron lake, near the town of Rhodes. Getting eaten alive by mosquitos while the heat of the Scarlett Meadows sun beat down on you.
And although you thought maybe a room in Rhodes would have been a better way to keep each other company, you couldn’t beat this view.
Arthur stood on the shore, fishing pole in hand. His tall silhouette dark against the golden light, his shadow growing longer on the rocks. What a sight, every subtle flick of his wrist, his bicep tensing and he pulled on the pole. You didn’t even know why he was still fishing so late. He had already caught dinner, which you had prepared over a small fire. While along the shore you had picked some burdock root and common bulrush for camp, knowing that Miss Grimshaw could find some use for the plants. At long last the sun fell below the horizon, a sliver of burnt amber spreading across the sky before being enveloped by a dark blue. The moon slowly rose above you. A beautiful yellow spotlight peeking through the trees.
Arthur stood, still as a statue, as though he was carved of marble. A wicked thought entered your head, slowly you moved to unlace your boots. Pulling them off until you could dig your toes into the grassy floor beneath you. Then you untied the strings to your skirt. Letting the fabric fall, along with your shirt. Leaving you standing in only your chemise, and it wasn’t long before that was discarded as well.
Arthur had heard the slight rustling of fabric behind him, but he was honestly too preoccupied with the pole in his hands. Enjoying the quiet serenity of the river. That was until you ran butt ass naked into it.
“Darlin!” He yelled his eyes widening in shock as your laughter joined the sound of water splashing.
“Come on cowboy!” You called submerged to your waist, your breasts above the water for any passersby to see. Maybe it wasn’t your best idea yet, the freezing water chilling your bones.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” He chuckled, unfortunately amused by your actions even though he knew he shouldn’t be.
“What does it look like I’m doing?” You called back, teeth chattering by the sudden drop in temperature.
“It looks like you’re giving anyone that passes through a free peep show.” He called his hand resting on his gun belt as he not so casually adjusted himself. You stepped back further into the dark water until only your shoulders and up were visible.
“When did you become such a prude?” You chided a teasing smile on your lips.
“When someone could lay eyes on my woman.” He said laying down his pole, crossing his arms over his chest. You felt a shiver run down your spine, whether it was from his words or the cold water you couldn’t tell.
“Well get in here and claim your woman before someone else does!” You called, a shit eating grin spreading across your face.
Arthur sighed, looking down as the brim of his hat shielded most of his face from you. Your grin only grew as he unbuckled his gun belt, letting it fall to the ground. He pulled his suspenders off his broad shoulders. He shook his head, his own grin growing on his face as he began to pull off his clothes.
“You’re gonna get it girl.” He warned, his eyes taking on a dark haze. His lips pulling back into a smirk, looking down at you like prey. An electric shock of anticipation ran up your body as he finally pulled off the last layer, his cock springing up against his stomach. He stepped forward, wading into the water. “Jesus!” He yelped, a shiver running through him.
“It’s not that bad!” You called with a laugh.
“Not that-“ He shook his head, “Christ I can’t feel my toes.” He muttered swimming over to you, his arm wrapping around you pulling you close. You wrapped your legs around his waist as you held onto his shoulders
“Hey there.” You grin, watching the water droplets run down his face.
“Howdy.” He muses, you place your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat against your palm.
“Still cold?” You ask sweetly.
“Very.” He chuckles.
“I think I could warm you up.” You say biting your lip.
“Please do.” He says softly as you lean forward. Your nose bumping against his as you stare him down. He leans forward pressing his lips against yours. His tongue swiping along your lower lip as he pressed you down onto his pelvis. Clenching around nothing as his cock bumped against the nub of your clit, a soft moan leaving your throat.
“I can feel that.” You said softly, biting your lip as you looked into his eyes.
“I’m sure you can.” His chest rumbling as he chuckled. He moved his hand from your waist and reached down between your legs. The tip of his length catching against your entrance. “Think you’re wet enough?” He teases, his teeth glinting in the moonlight as he smirks.
You bite back a rebuttal as he slips inside you with ease, he swallows your gasp as his mouth covers yours. Groaning into your mouth, a deep almost primal noise. One that sends pleasure shooting through your body. You whine as he pulls out slightly, only to press your body down onto his pelvis. His cock rubbing against that spot inside you.
He knows this dance like the back of his hand, how to make you tick, more specifically how to make you scream. The hand that’s not holding your hip with a vice like grip moves up your body, his hands splayed against your stomach. Before reaching up to cup your breast, pinching your nipple.
“Arthur.” You gasp, feeling him rut against you, growling against your neck like a wild animal.
“Feel so good darlin’.” He huffs against your neck, nipping and kissing as he continues his attack on your pussy. His cock thrusting deep strokes against your walls. Your body is buzzing, your toes curling as he brings you closer and closer to your peak. He can feel you flutter around him, his lips quirk up. He moves his hand down to between your legs, rubbing your clit.
You cry out, a pitiful noise as you cum around him. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your brows knit together as your jaw hangs open. He smirks, tilting his head back as a low, shit, leaves his mouth.
His hips start to stutter as he pounds into you, trying to reach his orgasm while you’re still working through yours. He’s quick behind you, his hands holding you so close against him you’re sure you’ll have bruises. He thrusts into you one last time, a choked groan rumbling in his chest. You hold onto him as his dick twitches inside of you. Painting your insides with his seed. You smile up at him lazily, watching his face contort in pleasure.
“Shit darlin’.” He huffs, his chest rising and falling rapidly against your own. The bite of the water is no longer a thought as his warm body presses against yours.
“You warm now, cowboy?” You tease brushing your nose against this neck, pressing a kiss over his pulse point.
“Very.” He chuckles, “But I’d like to get my beautiful girl out of these waters now.” He says grabbing a handful of your ass before throwing you over his shoulder. “I ain’t done with you yet.”
#rdr2#arthur morgan smut#arthur morgan#red dead redemption#red dead redemption 2#dutch van der linde#hosea matthews#john marston#arthur morgan x reader#javier escuella#molly o’shea#mary beth gaskill#tilly jackson#lenny summers#sean macguire#karen jones#kieran duffy#pearson#susan grimshaw#abigail roberts#jack marston#abigail marston#hihomeghere
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Fireside
Arthur Morgan x CurvyFem!Reader Pure unadulterated smut, 18+, MDNI (Minors Do NOT Enter) Warnings: sexual content, oral sex, cowboy giving
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It was new territory for both of you: this game of stolen glances and shy smiles across Camp, finding excuse after excuse just to feel the thrill of your fingertips dancing over his arms and chest. And then there were those moments where he'd seize any opportunity to pin you up against the side of Pearson's wagon, pressed close against your body just to make you feel the heat and solidity of his frame against yours, no matter how dangerous or reckless it might be. Despite how much he cares for you and how much he enjoys your time together, it's an impossible task to keep his mind from spiraling down every possibility in which he'd be damning you to the same fate, to make the same mistakes he had with Eliza and with Mary, leaving you a shell of the woman you once were. Even if he's riddled with doubt and fear, he won't let you slip through his fingers like a fading dream. It's been quite some time since he's felt so drawn to someone that he can't rationalize why he can't- why he won't stay away. He doesn't quite understand it himself, but for the first time in his life, he ain't fighting it, not with you.
It is no accident that he found himself in this current predicament; setting up a makeshift camp with you outside of Rhodes just to spend some alone time with you. He had made sure of it, insisting on not heading back to Clemen's Point after seeing how pretty you looked all cleaned up and excited to join him on his run to town even if it was just for a pack of cigarettes at the general store. Determined to have some peace away from the commotion of camp, he veered his horse off to the side of the road, leading you through the thicket of trees stretched out alongside the expansive fields of Lemoyne, heading to a clearing just before the edge of Flat Iron Lake. God, was it a good choice. Instead of hearing another riveting story from Mr. Pearson's days in the navy or having you get whisked away for any late-night tasks for Ms. Grimshaw, he's kneeling fireside, watching you fold out his emergency bedroll for the both of you, imaging all the possibilities that the night holds; particularly all those that end with you spread out beneath him.
“C’mere, baby.” His voice is laden with desire as he outstretches his hand for you to take.
"Hmm?" You ask, stopping to glance over your shoulder, only to see his rugged features awash in the orange glow of firelight. Crystalline eyes pierce your heart, crumbling down the walls that protected you and shielded you from the pain of never knowing what love could be. No, there was no idea, no concept of love until he came crashing into your life all those months ago. Love with Arthur is like opening a fresh wound: ripping into your heart and seeding himself so deeply inside of that aching muscle that you fear one day he’ll just bleed you dry and leave you with the dull ache of his memory. However, his presence alone is like a soothing balm to your weary and wounded soul, healing you like the hands of god himself and reassuring you that he’d never leave; he’d crawl through the pits of hell and back just to be spared a passing glance. You trusted him with your life then and against all the nagging self-doubt screaming in your mind, you trust him now.
He can hardly tear his gaze from you as you come closer, his eyes hungrily taking in every inch of your curvy form from the supple sway of your hips to the way the corners of your plush lips curl into an affectionate smile. You place your hand in his as you lower yourself onto his lap, the grass and weeds beneath you tickling your legs just as your knees meet the ground on either side of his hips. Even if you were to pay him no mind, he'd still relish the chance to be this close to you, to see the delicate little imperfections scattered across your skin, to feel the warmth of your love radiating off of your body like a roaring furnace, and admire how your eyes flicker with a sense of hope he'd long forgotten. In the mess of smoothing out your skirts to hide your thighs from his wandering gaze, a lock of hair breaks free from the bun on your head, flopping down on your face in a single ringlet. He reaches up to tuck it behind your ear, his fingertips skimming softly over the supple flesh of your cheek, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. A wave of affection washes over him as he gazes at your face illuminated by the flickering light of the fire, and he can barely contain himself. He longs to shower you with compliments and affection, to give you the love and attention that you so rightfully deserve, but he can't. He has no words; believes there are no words to describe exactly how a single brush of your skin against his makes his heart stop and his mind cloud in a thick fog with nothing to picture but you. You make him feel like a damn fool, a fool so caught up in love that he can't distinguish his left from his right. Words are meaningless here- showing you is the only way.
You never thought you’d find yourself in this predicament: a handsome man like Arthur guiding you toward him, stealing a kiss from your lips like a man starved for the slightest bit of affection. Nor did he think he'd be holding such a beautiful woman in his arms, a woman deserving of so much more than he could ever give. Good things like this don’t happen to you, nor do they happen to men like him, but against all odds, you’re both here wrapped in each others’ embrace without a care in the damn world.
Your plump, pliable lips press against his with a tenderness rarely afforded in the quick, passionate encounters you’ve found yourselves in these days. Tonight, there will be no rush of hands lifting your skirts, no hard press of his cock entering you without warning; tonight, he’ll take his time, drawing out each orgasm after agonizing orgasm from that pretty pussy like you deserve. Arthur breaks away from your lips abruptly and latches onto your pulse point, drawing out that little whimper that sends his head spinning. Your breath is but a whisper as his name drips off your tongue like a fine brandy: silky smooth, "Arthur.." Just as you expect him to reach your collar, unbutton your blouse, and ravage your flesh, he pulls away. Your eyes shoot open only to see him taking off that old gambler's hat while leaning back.
Through a half-laughed whisper, you say, "What're you-" Before you can finish protesting, he rests his back on the plush grass beneath you both, his hat clutched in hand. He sets it aside on a nearby log before turning his attention back to you with a wolfish grin.
“Gonna love you like ya deserve. C’mere,” he murmurs, eyes roaming over your flushed face and heaving chest.
With that, his hands were back on the swell of your hips, thumbs gently pressing into the soft cotton of your skirts, coaxing you with a gentle yet firm pull that guided you away from the comfort of his lap and over his stomach until you're kneeling just above his chest. His eyes lock onto yours, silently pleading for you to rest your fullness on him; he needs to feel every ounce of you as if his life depended on it. You hesitate, looking down at him from above with your pretty skirts pooling over his chest; his face peeking out below a sea of sage green ending just below his chin. Silently urging you to finally give in and settle yourself onto his chest, he reaches upward and gently grabs hold of your waist.
You can’t.
Y’all are already in a compromising position out here in the open. It’d take just a single person to glance in the direction of your camp by the lake to see Arthur delving under your skirts by firelight. His boldness takes you by surprise, a sweet gasp filling your lungs as he leans up, pressing a gentle kiss to your aching cunt through your dampened drawers. That's all it takes for you to give into his touch and rest your hips upon his chest. Your sweet musk alone sends a shiver of pleasure down his spine, pooling straight into his stiffening cock. A low growl of satisfaction leaves his lips in appreciation for your willingness to let him please you. Your eyes are trained on his head ruffling beneath your skirts before looking up at the night sky, noting how the faint white glow of moonlight breaks through the canopy of leaves and limbs, casting shadowed shapes upon the forest floor. His gentle kisses shift from the apex of your desires, the scruff from his beard pleasantly scratching against your skin. While he traces the little blue lace detail on the hem of your drawers, the low timbre of his voice buzzes against your thigh, “Can I take these off of ya?”
There's no denying the desire that runs through you at the thought of being bared to him in such a risque position; to undress yourself and have him beneath you, feasting upon your quivering cunt as if he were savoring you like the very last meal he'd ever taste. Oh, how you remember the first time you felt the wet warmth of his tongue darting out of his lips, pressing against you to show you all the ways in which a real man loves his woman. In truth, Arthur had been the first to awaken those romantic emotions within you, to ignite the spark of desire and affection that had been suppressed for so long. Society had labeled you a spinster, a woman unworthy of love and affection, but he had shown you that you were worthy of so much more than some horseshit label. He had taken your first kiss, been your first intimate touch, and with every moment you spent together, he showed you that you were beautiful and deserving of the kind of love written in those books MaryBeth lets you borrow. The thrill of feeling him once more makes your blood run hot, leaving you with no other choice than to hum softly in agreement. If this is what he desires, then who are you to deny him?
Slowly, you rise off his chest, lifting yourself up to your knees. Your fingers nimbly work to undo the ties that hold cover to the last remnants of decency you have left. You can feel his eyes on you as you undress, watching your every move with an intensity that sends shivers running down your spine. As your skirts fall away, leaving you exposed and vulnerable, you gaze down at his face, the flush of desire dusting his features in a faint reddish hue. His eyes remain locked on yours, unmasked desire blazing in their depths. You begin to work on your blouse and chemise, eager to bare yourself to him, but Arthur's impatience gets the better of him as he struggles with the buttons and ties fastening your clothing. His fingers move quickly and feverishly, desperate to get you stripped down and exposed to his hungry gaze. Through his struggle, he moves his hands back down to your drawers, pressing his thumb against the seam of your body to watch the light fabric catch between your folds. Between your soft gasp and his feigned murmur of forgiveness, he takes hold of the thin fabric and rips it right down the seam of your best set of undergarments. "Arthur! Them's my last good pair," you scold, but it does no good: he's too far gone.
His lust-blown pupils take in the sight of the dark thatch of hair separating him from your aching desire. Oh, for heaven's sake, you internally chastise yourself. Someone could stumble upon your little camp and see you naked as the day you were born, mounting his face like your first ride on a new saddle. But the instant his plush lips meet your seam, all doubt, and all fear subsides, giving way to burning passion. Your back arches, instinctively pressing your hips upon his wanting, salivating mouth, and burying his nose into your plump mound. God how he's missed this, missed taking you so fully and unapologetically. Your sticky sweet nectar coats his lips like the finest honey, driving him wild for a taste of your supple sweetness. His tongue flicks out of his mouth, pressing flat against your slick heat, parting your folds in search of that little bud of nerves screaming his name. You are all that he can taste, all he can breathe, all he can feel.
Darkness clouds his vision as his eyes flutter closed, though flashing behind his eyes is anything but: the image of your face twisting and contorting in agonizing pleasure erases all thought and memory from his mind, leaving only you in its wake. Soft crackling embers, gentle knickers from his steed, the lewd squelches of his tongue lapping at your core, and the sweet flighty sounds escaping your lips create an orgasmic orchestral hymn he's longed to hear these past few weeks. His cock swells, pressing uncomfortably against the rough jean fabric of his usual working pants. Rutting his hips upward, he finds that the tight seam rubs him in the most delicious way: pressing against his cock as if you were leaning back to palm him while he eats you out.
Just as his hips grind upward to find some torturous relief, your hips involuntarily rock against his tongue, guiding him exactly where you need him to be. The strong, wet, muscle glides over your clit, swirling so slowly that your thighs tremble with each expert pass along that tiny bud screaming his name. Embers from the campfire crackles and burns far too close to your bodies not feel the sweltering heat baring down on your skin. Yet, it pales in comparison to the feverish flush that gathered in your face; it spread across the apples of your cheeks to the tips of your ears, leaving them burning almost intolerably. You found yourself struggling to catch your breath as desire worked its way down your throat, squeezing out all the air in your lungs like the first drag off a cigarette before its buzz envelops you completely. His tongue only leaves you for a moment, using it to murmur, "That feel good, baby?"
His voice rumbles through your cunt, causing you to clench around nothing. He needs no answer. He already knows how much you're enjoying this, how much you've been needing to feel his mouth on you by the soft little gasps in between a string of expletives following his name; his favorites being, 'O-Oh Arthur,' 'Oh fuck,' and 'God, pl-please, Arthur.' Pride swells in his chest knowing that he's the only man that's able to ravage you like this. You belong to each other, heart, body, mind, and soul.
Lubrication leaks from you like a damn fountain, coating your pretty little slit like it just begs for him to enter your aching core. And that's exactly what he finds himself searching for. With a small forward thrust of your hips, his tongue parts you, pushes your cunt open, and penetrates you with its wriggling mass of muscle. It wasn’t like his cock filling you, hitting your womb with every thrust, rubbing you so impossibly deep that you could see stars, but it was enough to shatter your pride and make you forego all composure and decency, whatever sense of the word it may be. The very tip finds that soft spongy spot inside, licking and writhing with each dip in and out, all while his nose presses against your clit. “A-Arthur,” you groan. “I’m so close.”
Oh, he knows you're close. Your cunt quivers around his tongue, pulsating in time with the sound of his heart pounding in his ears. Your creamy slick coats his beard, nose, and hell, even his cheeks as you properly use him to reach your end. Everything around you is spinning. Nothing exists beyond this moment shared between two lovers shrouded by nightfall. No, nothing else matters except Arthur's mouth devouring you, drinking you like cold water on a hot summer's day. You're his solace, his sustenance, something worth truly dying for. And if he smothers to death beneath your soaked cunt, then he'd thank God for such a heavenly way to go. His hips rise and fall, undulating as if he were fucking into your tight, gummy channel; it's all he can imagine, all he wants to feel is fucking you and you being fucked. Flicking his tongue inside of you, hitting that sweet spot, pulls you closer to the edge. Your hands are frantic, never taking purchase on any one place until they find the mess of chestnut hair atop his head. It takes everything in you not to rip his hair out as both of your hands take fistfuls into your palms. He growls into you, panting heavily for what little air he's able to take in. Finally, his tongue retreats, moving back up to your clit to give you one hard suck that sends you spiraling over the edge. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes are awash in electricity, burning, shaking through you like a thunderous wave as your climax takes hold. You scream his name, but he doesn't stop attacking your clit with the gentle flick of his tongue through hard suction. No, he doesn't stop, making sure to rip another mind-shattering orgasm out of you until he allows himself to come. You fall forward in an attempt to move from him, but he holds you down with such strength that you're forced to stay seated. You block off his airway, smothering his nose with your mound as he continues his ministrations on your clit. You feel like you're dying, shaking and sweating like a fever has taken your body over, until another orgasm rounds its peak. With one more jerk of his hips, he spends himself in his jeans; cum leaking out of him like a stream, soaking into his union suit while your cream drenches his beard in a frothy white delicacy. Once you gain your composure, you glance down at him to realize that he can't breathe. "O-Oh God, Arthur. You alright?" You pull away from his mouth, giving him a moment to catch his breath as he looks up at you with fiery, hungry eyes. The flame of the campfire casts shadows over his face, the light illuminating him in a warm, golden glow. His beard glistens with your essence, and he gazes up at you with an expression of reverence, silently worshiping what power your body has over him. As you attempt to lift yourself off of him to give him some much needed breathing room, he clamps down on your thighs, preventing you from moving. That familiar smirk draws up the corner of his mouth and a spark of desire flickers in the ocean of blue surrounding his lust-blown pupils, "Where you think 'yer goin'? Ain't done with you yet." ---------------------------------------------------------------------- A/N: Hi! I really hope y'all like this little drabble. My great friend @photo1030 inspired me to post a little something, so I have her to thank for igniting my creativity again. It's my first time posting anything like this, so feedback of any kind would be greatly appreciated! So again, thank you, C, for being my first supporter <3
Other creators I enjoy/drew inspo from: @rivetingrosie4 @coltermorning @subpopizzy @amorgansgal @immajustvibehere @twola
#rdr2#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan x reader smut#arthur morgan#arthur morgan smut#Cowboy Giving#Thank you for reading - from the bottom of my little Appalachian Heart <3
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Arthur and Bloedbad at Flat Iron Lake
#rdr2edit#gamingedit#vgedit#reddeadedit#reddeadredemption2edit#videogameedit#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#arthur morgan#mine#gif:mine#gif:rdr2#gif:myarthurmorgan#gif:myrdr2horses#gif:mybloedbad
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“You know,” she started, watching the oil flame flicker in the lantern. “When you said you wanted to go camping, I thought you meant like…a cabin on a lake. You know, glamping.”
Tyler chuckled as he adjusted the length of the wick in the lantern. “Where’s the fun in staying in a cabin when you can sleep under the stars in a tent.”
“Well, my back would appreciate a bed,” she replied sarcastically.
“Laying on flat ground actually alleviates back pain and also helps blood circulation.”
“You’re just a plethora of knowledge when it comes to proving a point, aren’t you?”
He smiled as the flame flickered lowly and he laid back down pulling the blanket up to his chest as he rested his head on his arm. “You’re having a good time,” he said. “You know you are.”
“It’s possible,” she retorted, inching closer to him; he shifted his other arm, wrapping it around her waist.
“Hmm…possible?” Tyler mused. “After I made you a steak and potatoes in a cast iron skillet and then helped you roast marshmallows and chocolate covered strawberries?”
“Fine,” she said, wrapping her arm around his waist. “I’m having a good time. Being outside at night gives me the heebie jeebies though.”
“Why?” he snorted.
“Coyotes, wolves, bears, any wild animal that could eat me,” she deadpanned.
Tyler huffed humoredly through his nose and pulled her closer. “The truck is parked nearby, and I have a rifle with me. We’re fine.”
“Hmm…”
He turned his head, nuzzling her temple, gently pressing his lips to her skin. “I’m not going to let anything happen to you, darlin’. I’ll keep you safe, I promise.” He lowered his hand, trailing it up beneath his undershirt that she wore, fingers brushing against her warm skin. “And have I ever broken a promise to you?”
She smiled softly, cuddling close. “…no.”
Tyler nodded. “Because I keep ‘em.” He reached up, pulling the flap on top of the tent open, the stars blinking back at them. “Now, you look up at those pretty stars and wonder just how jealous they are of you.”
“Tyler,” she laughed, and he hummed.
“Prettier than any star to grace the face of this earth,” he murmured. “And I’m the lucky man who gets to hold her heart.”
She shifted her gaze to his face. “Tyler…”
He looked down at her, eyes soft and warm, voice gentle and full of love. “I love you.”
She swallowed, feeling her cheeks warm. “I love you too,” she whispered, and his fingers brushed up her skin again; she laid her head back down on his chest, listening to his heart beat beneath her ear. “Tyler?”
“Hmm?”
“Thank you for bringing me out here.”
“Anytime, darlin’,” he murmured.
#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x reader imagines#tyler owens x reader imagine#tyler owens imagines#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens#twisters imagines#twisters imagine#twisters
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Arthur and Tegwyn 𑁦𐂂𑁦 Flat Iron Lake
#my poor poor cowboy#:(#rdr2#red dead redemption 2#micks pics#arthur morgan#red dead redemption community#red dead redemption 2 photography#tegwyn my horse
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the sillies
#red dead redemption 2#rdr2#red dead#red dead redemption two#vanderamatthews#hosea matthews#dutch van der linde#vdm#hosea x dutch#dutch x hosea#rdr2 hosea#rdr2 dutch#hosea rdr2#dutch rdr2#van der linde gang#vdl gang#Flat Iron Lake#Lemoyne#Scarlett Meadows#red dead redemption 2 photography#rdr2 photography#rdr2 photographers#rdr2 community#red dead redemption 2 community#Rockstar Games#video games#cowboys#outlaws
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On the ground is a bleeding man, a pair of mangled wings sprouting from his back.
Eddie gasps. A faerie. A creature with wings whiter than the silver moon.
The thing on the ground stirs.
Eddie is unable to move, not even when the faerie pushes to his knees, then to his feet, blood from the wound Eddie inflicted spilling down his back like paint.
The thing looks like a man rises to his feet and retreats to the trunk of the willow tree. The white wings shift around him, tensed and flat like a wrinkled shroud. After a moment of deliberation, the faerie finds a suitable perch amongst the roots and settles on his haunches.
Eddie thinks for a moment he’s trying to hide himself like prey, seeing the broken wine bottle and knowing what they’re here for.
But then the faerie fixes his gaze on them, and Eddie’s blood runs cold.
Those eyes. They’re black like Father’s, dilated with too much drink. No white at all, just two black pearls in a sharp, pitiless face.
Eddie shakes on the ground, can't find it in himself to speak. Though, in reality, he knows he should say something. Faeries stand on ceremony. Faeries demand respect. But all Eddie can manage is a cotton-mouthed gasp.
This creature is beautiful, and terrifying.
It’s Dustin who breaks the tense moment. He stands, and steps forward with the lantern, their shadows swaying inside the curtain of the willow fronds. Across the lake, the sun has begun its descent behind the tree line.
“Hello again, Master Raven,” Dustin says, bowing deeply, arms thrown out behind him like a courtier. “We mean you no harm. My brother and I are only appreciating the beauty of the Blackwood on this auspicious night.”
“Yes, yes!” Eddie quickly agrees. He rises finally to his feet, shifts so he’s beside Dustin, playing along with his brother’s half-truth, “We were told of the equinox’s unique effect on the Blackwood, and… desired to see it for ourselves.”
Thick hair falls in the faerie’s eyes, the color of new hay after rain. The strands are long enough to trail around his shoulders, catching occasionally on the stark feathers. His expression remains an unchanged wall of apathy. Birdlike and unfeeling.
Eddie is unable to track where those black marble eyes are looking, but he has the distinct feeling that he in particular is being watched. He’s not sure how he knows it, only feels the gaze like a weight. Shivers move across his body.
“Who are you?” the faerie asks. His voice isn’t melodic. It’s deep and it grates, like scratching bone, like quenching hot iron in cold water.
Eddie staggers backward on his feet, nearly tripping on tall tree roots. “Eddie,” he stutters, before snapping his mouth shut. Don’t speak your name in the presence of fae. But it’s too late, he’s already said it. Eddie pushes Dustin behind him, blood cold. Nervous words pour from his mouth like a compulsion, "Our father is the village smith."
The thing that looks like a man points to the bottle in Dustin’s hands. “And you thought you could catch me? In that?”
Eddie lets out a shaky breath, chooses his next words carefully, “You graciously saved us from certain death. I would not reward help with betrayal.”
The faerie scoffs, emotion overtaking his face for the first time. Disbelief, indignation. “Reward? I do not seek the reward of a human.”
“A kindness, then,” Eddie corrects.
The faerie tilts his head, “But not your thanks?”
He’s trying to trap me. Trying to imprison me with words.
Eddie licks his lips, “No.”
A sound like raven-call escapes up the faerie’s throat. He’s laughing at Eddie. “I see you follow your rules well,” the faerie chuckles, shaking his head. “I do not care much for rules.” His wings unfurl, wide and magnificent—flapping once, twice, until he’s propelled himself within touching distance. He lands with a gentle step, tread so light he makes no prints in the fragile layer of moss. The ripped wings fold back up, limp and bloody, but he doesn’t shudder, doesn’t recoil in pain. He probably can’t feel pain at all. That seems like such a human concern, not something worth troubling over when you’re both more and less than a human.
The faerie closes the distance and suddenly he and Eddie are nose to nose, barely inches apart. They’re close enough that Eddie can see freckles on the faerie’s cheeks—They scatter down his neck in a constellation of dark stars.
“Would you like to play a game with me?” the faerie asks.
Even the horrible, teasing smile on his face is beautiful.
Oh god, don’t get distracted.
What had he suggested? A game?
Eddie wants to play, wants to stay just a moment longer in this creature’s presence. But. “We won’t have any dealings with you.”
“A game is not a deal. A game is for fun.”
“I don’t want to have fun with you.”
Inexplicably, the faerie pouts. It’s a grotesque arrangement of features on his wide, flushed face. Makes him seem both more and less like the faerie he is. Clumsily manipulative. Hatefully endearing. “I’m already having fun with you, whether you want me to or not.”
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this is an excerpt from Chapter 4 of my Faerie!Steve x Blacksmith!Eddie fic, "The Equinox Game" | Read from the beginning here!
#steddie#steddie fic#steve x eddie#stranger things fic#steddie ficlet#stranger things#the equinox game#steve harrington#eddie munson
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winter sleepover!! carmy 🔥 indoors and the fire is also for “please make it spicy” 🫢
sex by the fire || carmen berzatto
pairing: carmy x fem reader
warnings: NSFW 18+ p in v unprotected and all that jazz. just soft vanilla sex. and cookies !!
a/n: this is unedited and unbeta’d bc i am so so sleepy. thanks sm for requesting 🫶🏻🫶🏻
a weekend getaway in a secluded little cabin in the woods was exactly the kind of break you needed. fall semester had been hell for you and your boyfriend was well aware of that, which is exactly why he’d booked this trip. sydney was perfectly capable of running the restaurant for a few days, and everyone knew not to call carmy unless it was absolutely necessary. that left the two of you with the peace and quiet you both desperately needed.
the trip had been a complete surprise. carmy had packed your bags for you, picking you up from campus after your last exam with a mischievous grin on his face and whisking you away for the weekend. the cabin was downright adorable, just a single room with a large bed, a little kitchenette, a bathroom off to the side, a couple arm chairs and a TV by a big window, overlooking a gorgeous view of the lake. and of course, the fireplace.
it had taken the two of you a few tries to get the fire going, but now you were rewarded with the gentle warmth and the soft crackling sound as the fire burned steadily behind the iron grate.
you lounged on the bed, snuggled up between the many decorative pillows, waiting patiently as carmy placed a pan of cookies into the stove. he set a timer, tossed the dirty dishes in the sink to be dealt with later, and made his way back to you.
“hey baby,” he whispered, crawling into bed beside you. “are you enjoying y’self?”
you smiled at him, all perfect and pretty with his hair mussed and a little dash of flour lingering on his rosy cheek. “very much so,” you murmured. you closed your book and sat it on the bedside table so you could give your full attention to the man in front of you. his eyes shone with love and mischief in the dancing light of the fire, and you couldn’t help but pull him in for a kiss.
he tasted like the bittersweet chocolate chips he’d used in the batch of cookies he’d made, lips warm and pliant as you deepened the kiss. rough palms landed on your hips, pulling you until you rested in his lap.
“so,” you started, pulling away to look him in the eyes. “you gonna fuck me by the fire, bear?”
his parted lips turned upwards into a little grin, hands already roaming up under the hem of your sweater. “well, sweet girl, when you put it like that,” he laughed softly, bringing you in for another kiss as his fingers began to tug at the little bow on your pajama pants. the knot came undone quickly, and you shuffled around until your pants and sweater had been discarded. you sat atop his thighs in nothing but a pair of pretty lace panties, tugging his shirt over his head until your palms could lay flat against his warm, bare chest.
“my pretty boy,” you cooed, kissing along the column of his throat. your hips rolled against his own, the flannel of his pajama pants soft against the inside of your thighs. he was half hard already, you could feel him rubbing deliciously against your core, and a soft whine escaped your lips as he kissed you again. “want you, carm. c’mon.”
carmy chuckled, lifting you off his hips long enough to discard his pants and boxers in one go. then he was pulling you back, pushing your panties to the side and giving his cock a few quick strokes before lining himself up and sliding in. the stretch was familiar, an easy little burn you’d come accustomed to, but it never failed to draw an obscene moan from your lips.
“shh, tha’s it. good girl.” his hips began to shift up into you in gentle strokes, pushing in deep with a muffled groan against the curve of your shoulder.
you hummed in pleasure, slumping against his chest as he planted his feet on the bed for more leverage. “fuck- ‘s so good,” you whimpered, curling in closer and latching your lips onto his neck. any semblance of composure in your voice dissipated, your words coming out as gentle, high pitched whines. “carmen, oh fuck, carmen!”
“sounds so pretty when ya say it like that,” he said, his words nearly a growl as they came through gritted teeth. “fuckin’ angelic. say it again baby, will ya?”
“carmen, jesus- fucking- carmen, please! ‘m gonna-“ your head felt too heavy to hold anymore, but one strong hand supported your chin to draw you in for a delicate kiss. the contrast was exhilarating, sharp thrusts of his hips balanced against the softness of his lips against yours.
without so much as a warning to carmy, your vision was whiting out and your body was coursing with red hot pleasure. your whole figure shook in his arms, lewd moans turning into softer whimpers as he chased his own climax with erratic thrusts.
“fuck- yeah, that’s my girl. jus’ a li’l more baby, you can do it.” he grunted, fingers digging into your hips as he slammed against you. you fell quiet, leaving nothing but the obscene sounds of sweat slick skin over the gentle roar of the fire.
with one final, deep stroke he came inside of you, lips finding yours in a messy and passionate kiss. you could have stayed there in his arms forever, listening to the fire and his soft breathing as the two of you came down from the high. but of course, nothing lasts forever, and it was only a matter of minutes before the kitchen timer rang out, reminding you of the batch of cookies waiting in the oven.
you hummed, rolling off carmy and collapsing into the fluffy mattress. he smiled down at you, thumb running over your smudged lipstick before leaning in for a quick kiss.
“i’ll get the cookies out, an’ then i’ll get ya cleaned up. that sound good?”
you nodded, too sleepy and sated to form any coherent sentence. your eyes fell closed, listening carefully to the sounds around you. the clang of the oven door. the creak of a cabinet door. a soft hiss of pain, probably from your boyfriend touching the still hot pan. water running in the sink. soft footsteps coming back in your direction.
carmy cleaned you up with a warm washcloth, tossing it haphazardly towards the laundry basket and crawling back into bed beside you. the two of you laid there, naked and happy, with the plate of cookies balanced precariously on your thigh. when the sweets were gone and the fire was dying down, you let your eyes flutter closed as you snuggled into his side.
“goodnight, pretty girl,” carmy murmured, moving the plate to the bedside table and wrapping you securely in his arms.
end.
#carmen berzatto x reader#carmen berzatto smut#carmy berzatto x reader#carmy berzatto smut#mags’ winter sleepover#mags’ winter sleepover: fics#carmen berzatto#carmy berzatto#the bear#the bear fx#written by maggie [fics]
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Can I request a drabble where Arthur comforts a female reader who has a broken heart? The reader's ex-boyfriend cheated on her and left with another woman.
Here we go! I took the liberty to name Reader's ex Jim (pretty random name for that place and time so I thought it would fit alright.)
I hope you'll like it anon!!🙌
࣪ ˖✧ The World is living.
✦ Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader ✦ Warnings/Tags: Mention of cheating, reader's ex is a loser (boo him), reader is in a pretty bad mental state but Arthur is here to save the day, cursing cause he's mad as hell someone hurt you. ✦ Words: 1,5k ✦ a/n: As Anon had requested a drabble I tried to keep this short! Takes place in Clement's Point because the lake is so good for that kind of work, reader is part of the gang. Clearly this drabble is a big hug to all my sis out there who have been poorly treated by their ex🫶🏻
You were sitting by the shore, just behind camp. Flat Iron Lake was always beautiful at that time, just before dawn. Frosty, pastel colors on the sky and the water surfaces, melting into a soft shade of pale lavender and teal blue. You could only hear the occasional chirping of birds, splashing of an adventurous fish jumping out of the water, and lonely howls of coyotes.
The World was living.
You couldn't understand how. How did the World was still turning while you were hurting that much? It should have stopped. It should have. This was the only option after what you had been through.
You felt tears watering your eyes again. You couldn't sleep, as often lately, so you just had decided to come and sit here in the sand to do something, anything else than just lying in your cot, alone in the cold night, alone in the cold silence, alone in the cold emptiness. Alone, so alone even though you were surrounded by people at camp; it didn't mattered. He was gone now, and everything felt tasteless without him, everything looked drearier, even the beautiful morning scenery under your eyes.
You were now crying hard. Damn it, you didn't even knew you still had water in your body for it. You had cried so many times in the past few days your eyes were permanently red, your cheeks scarred by two trails of dry tears; you felt like one of those oranges that people squeeze to get the juice, leaving behind only a corpse of fruit devoid of all substance.
You couldn't do it anymore, it hurt too much. You buried your face in your hands, sobbing once again, trying to let out the sorrow that was eating you up from inside like a noxious parasite since he had left you.
"Y/N? Is everythin' okay?"
You tilted your head up, a slight feeling of panic and shame crashing on you as you searched for your interlocutor.
It was Arthur. He was a few meters away from you, empty bucket in his hands. He probably was on his way to the lake to fill it, but had heard you crying. You weren't too surprised to see him this early, Arthur had never slept much, he was always up before you in normal time, already helping everyone around camp.
He looked at you in the eyes, waiting for an answer. He seemed genuinely concerned; you realized you hadn't seen him for a while since he had been on a difficult job for weeks, he probably should have came back during the night, but you were far too deep in your own dark thoughts to have noticed it. He was clearly clueless and surprised about your state, his arms hanging awkwardly by his sides, his blue work shirt's sleeves rolled up carelessly.
"N-no..." You only answered, trying to wipe what you could of the literal torrent of tears flooding out of your eyes, but it just wouldn't stop, you felt even more ashamed. You must have looked pitiful right now.
Arthur let go of the bucket, letting it fall on the ground without an ounce of care. He then slowly approached you, and sat down in the sand next to you, leaving a little space between your two bodies. He didn't look disturbed or annoyed, but almost as stoic as usual. Except for his eyes. His eyes were telling a hundred stories even if he didn't wanted it. Their azure color bright and deep, you almost recognized a hint of sadness in them, as if he was pained seeing you like this.
"What's happenin' to ya, miss?" He inquired, voice deep and maybe a bit more empathetic than usual. He wasn't extremely expressive in usual times, so yet you could feel just by his presence how he cared about your well-being.
"It's Jim... He... He slept with one of these pretty girls from the Parlour House and he left me for her..." Saying it was making it all even worse. It was making it all too real. You struggled to get those words out, your tone cracking up as if they were crushing your vocal cords.
More tears, your eyes shutting close in a pained expression, the ache in your heart physically hurting you, as if someone had opened your thoracic cage and was crushing it with his bare hands. In a way, that's exactly what he had done to you.
"Goddamn piece of shit..." Arthur mumbled before looking at you, his intense indigo stare fixated on your face. He felt genuinely sorry, and outraged for you. Who in the world could have to audacity to hurt such a sweet girl like you? He was starting to clench his fists, feeling his blood boiling, a silent kettle on a burning fire. After a few seconds of hearing you cry, he couldn't hold it anymore, empathy getting the better of his rage, and opened his arms to gently pull you against him.
His strong, wide body enveloped you, and you let him. You buried your face into his chest, not really thinking about it, your hands wrapping around his waist, and gripping tight on his shirt. Looking clingy or odd was your last concern, you were way too blinded by your pain. You started crying loudly, wanting to make everything go out of you, your pain, your sadness, Him, everything.
"Yeah, that's it girl, let it all go..." He encouraged you, in a calm and quiet whisper. One of his hands had found its place behind your head, gently caressing it, the other resting around your waist. He carried you, as you screamed your pain to the World, as you poured all these gnawing feelings outside of you.
"He's a damn fool, Y/N. You deserve way better than him, lemme tell ya." Arthur murmured to you, voice still deep and caring. You could also hear behind that a hint of genuine anger in his tone, as he truly was pissed at Jim for having harmed you like this. "And you're gonna be okay, alright sweetheart?"
You slightly nodded into his chest, barely able to answer something properly. His scent and warmth were enfolding you, and you felt like you were somewhere else now, somewhere sunny. Somewhere pleasant. Somewhere better.
As the minutes went by, and his embrace didn't loosen, you slowly started to get out of your personal darkness, breath calming, thoughts clearing. You were taking in the fact that usually, Arthur wasn't frankly fond of hugs or other physical attention, and you felt thankful. He was doing this just for you.
"You're gonna be okay." He repeated like a silent vow. You felt like he was going to make sure of it. And for the first time in days, you honestly believed these words. You were going to be okay. It would take time, of course, but you just knew you would, as certain as the Sun was rising and setting every day.
You gently pulled back, both of you still holding each other in your arms, sitting on the sandy shore, but not as close, so you could look at this face. Your tears had soaked his shirt. You tried to apologize for it, but he quickly opposed it, telling you he had been covered in far worse than your tears. You smiled a bit, knowing he was right.
"Thank you so much for that Arthur..." You told him, genuinely feeling so grateful.
"Eh, I may be a cold-hearted killer, but I wouldn't have let a sweet lil' flower like ya cry..." He asserted, a slight grin on his face. You noticed how he looked a bit reassured himself, less worried. Maybe, just like his affection towards the other members of the gang, Arthur actually cared much more about you than what he was letting everyone see.
He carefully wiped the last tear from your cheek, thumb feeling rough but gentle against your skin, before getting up, his hands leaving your body but not going too far away as he proposed one of them for you to take and help you get up. You gladly took it, enjoying the warm contact of your fingers on his skin.
"I just feel like... I'm not enough..." You concluded with a pained tone, your eyes looking down at your feet. The fact that on top of having broken up with you, Jim had left you for another woman, was absolutely destroying you, making you feel like you were worthless. It was also this feeling that was so hard to handle; so hard to live with.
"Listen t'me." Arthur told you a bit more firmly, his eyes searching for yours. He knew how you felt, he felt bad about himself every day of his life. He didn't wanted you to feel like this in any way, ever. "Don't let this bastard make ya feel shitty. You're a beautiful, sweet, kind young woman, that is the truth." He asserted, his hands squeezing yours in a comforting gesture before letting go of them.
"Thank you, Arthur..." You said once more, feeling like you were repeating yourself, but he didn't seem to mind. He was walking back to where he had left the bucket, grabbing it to finish his chore.
"Ah, no worry, miss." He said to you with a smile, now feeling better as you felt less depressed. "Let me tell ya, this piece of shit better be far by now, 'cause I'm goin' to beat the Hell out of him if I ever see him again." He added, still smiling, but you knew he was being dead serious, and he was way more than capable of it. You almost chuckled, thanking him for the third time and telling him you wouldn't mind if he did.
He noticed the little grin that had curled up your lips. He loved it. His days at Clement's point weren't the same without your bright smile and your pleasant presence.
The Sun had completely risen now, the camp slowly emerging from its slumber. The first drowsy voices of your companion softly filling the air, yawning, saying greetings, some already teasing, merging with the sound of nature around you.
The World was living.
And now, so you were.
#rdr2#arthur morgan#red dead redemption 2#arthur morgan x reader#arthur morgan fluff#arthur morgan x female reader#arthur morgan x you#pinefic#arthur morgan comfort
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Wild Life - Chapter 2
A fan-made Life SMP session project by Zhuk and Schmomo
>Chapter 1< or >Read it on Ao3<
“So you’re breaking up with us,” Martyn said, matter of factly.
“Is this supposed to be shocking?” Cleo asked, “You leaving to go be with Etho, instead?” She laughed a little, cycling through her inventory for her iron pick.
“It’s nothing personal!” Bdubs insisted, quickly, “I just feel bad for the guy, you know?”
“He is washed up,” Grian agreed, his voice carrying from up high where he was building up their tower of cobble.
“Exactly. Wait, no! No, he’s not!” Bdubs huffed, “But it was harsh how we all ditched him.”
Yesterday had been a mad dash for resources, like all first days in the Life games tended to be. Bdubs’ plan for starting the Life game challenge had remained the same as always: stick to Etho. But that hadn’t really played out the way he wanted it to. When he’d circled up with his group near the exposed iron vein on the side of the mountain, everyone had realized at the same time an important fact: He, Impulse, Cleo and Skizz were all dogs.
Etho was not.
“He’s a cat, Bdubs,” Martyn said, his tail swishing about in warning behind him, “A filthy feline, if you will.”
“Shouldn’t we be building bridges?” Bdubs tried, his own short tail quite flat against his body.
“No, we’re building a tower,” Grian called from above.
Cleo snorted, trying to cover her smile with her free hand.
“The man is lost without me,” Bdubs continued, “And I really just want to check on him, is all. Don’t you trust me?”
“Not at all,” Cleo said with a smile, “But go on then, find your cat boyfriend if it’ll calm your anxious heart.”
Bdubs rolled his eyes, turning away and padding to the edge of their platform. After the iron had run dry, Skizz and Impulse had ventured further up the mountains. Bdubs knew his history with fall damage well enough to stick to more solid ground. Cleo had decided to join up with Martyn and Grian who were discussing some grandiose plan to take control of the entire lake. He had followed them without a second thought.
Now, he stared out at the vast expanse of water before him, “You know, we really should build a bridge–”
“No bridges!” Grian shouted, “That’s the whole point!”
Bdubs threw his hands up in the air, defeated with his teammates–former teammates? It was unclear at this point. Bdubs was about 65% certain he would come back to them. Maybe less so now that this base Grian and Martyn were insisting on would prevent him from any kind of sustainable horse travel.
He pinched his nose and jumped into the water, shuddering as the cold temperature hit him. He pushed through, diving down past the many salmon and cod to head to shore. By the end he was doggy paddling, which was fitting he supposed. When he reached the shore line he shook himself out, his ears floppy atop his head and smacking him ever so lightly.
His comms buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it out.
Solidarity has made the advancement [Diamonds!] Smallishbeans > ARE YOU KIDDING ME? Smallishbeans > HE’S THE FIRST ONE?????? Smajor1995 > just wait for the swimming in lava message to appear soon enough Skizzleman > i don’t have anything to contribute but as another S name i felt the need to say something GoodTimeWithScar > same! Grian > Your username starts with G, scar GoodTimeWithScar > are we starting our own train now, G? Solidarity > DOES ANYONE HAVE FOOD THEY CAN THROW DOWN MY HOLE?
“Poor fella,” Bdubs sighed out without even a hint of pity. He put his communicator away. He glanced around, seeing the remnants of other players from the falling leaves and missing dark oak trunks. He decided to keep to the edge of the forest, just in case. After a few hundred blocks, the dark oak gave way to a plains biome and–
“HORSE!” Bdubs shouted, sprinting over to the magnificent herd of beasts. There were six of them, all deep browns and blacks. Some were even spotted with white. “What beauties,” he praised as he petted one of the wild mares, who shook her mane out at him. He hauled himself onto her back, only to be bucked off. He was no stranger to the process, however, and kept at it, taming the entire herd by the time the sun was shining directly above him.
“Now I just need a saddle,” Bdubs said aloud, before frowning. Right. He needed a saddle. What were the odds he’d stumble upon a dungeon anytime soon? He wondered if they were using the leather recipe in this game. That would be oh-so-fortuitous.
He hadn’t been paying attention, and the horse he was seated upon had wandered further into the plains, toward the great big snowy mountain they’d all pillaged for iron yesterday. He wondered if Skizz and Impulse were still up there. Why were all his friends moving into such horse-hostile environments? Bunch of scum, the lot of em.
The land opened up in front of him and he let out a surprised shout of terror. He quickly jumped off the horse, only to land precariously at the edge of the gaping ravine.
That was a close one, Bdubs thought to himself, imagine being the first to die. And to fall damage too.
He scurried backwards, giving himself a few blocks of distance. Sheepishly he looked around to see if anyone had seen him shrieking. Luckily, no one was around.
Where the heck was everyone? Had no one decided to settle in these plains? He frowned, turning all the way around before getting himself dizzy. How was he supposed to find Etho with everyone hiding? Everyone was still green for void’s sake! There was no need to be so un-neighborly yet.
“Cowards! All of ya!” he shouted out to no one in particular, cupping his hands around his mouth to make sure his important message carried.
“Is someone out there!?”
Bdubs startled, looking around for the owner of the voice.
“Hello!?”
He narrowed his eyes, following the voice several blocks to the right. He stopped right before the ground gave way to another hole.
“OH THANK THE VOID!”
All the way down below, surrounded by dripstone, was Jimmy. In full diamond armor.
“BDUBS YOU HAVE TO HELP ME!” Jimmy shouted, “I'VE GOT HALF A HEART AND NOTHING TO MY NAME!”
“I don’t know about that,” Bdubs called back, sitting down on the edge of the hole, “You’re covered in diamonds.”
“I’ve got no wood, no tools and no food,” Jimmy lamented, “Please, do you have any food to spare?”
“How’d you manage this?” Bdubs asked, his ears perking up.
“There was some mild panicking when I dug into lava,” Jimmy said, “Very mild. I may have thrown half my inventory into it. These are minor details. Anyway, can you spare a mutton? I’d take it raw at this point.”
Bdubs cringed, “You’re lucky Scott didn’t hear that. He’d never let you live it down.”
“Scott’s dead to me!” Jimmy shouted back, “He and Joel and Etho found me just to laugh! The nerve!”
“Etho?” Bdubs blinked, honing in on his mission with laser focus, “You know where he went?”
“You get me outta this jam, I’ll take you straight to him, I swear on my half of a heart.”
“And one of your diamond pieces,” Bdubs added, standing back up.
“You’d take the shirt off my back in my most trying time?”
“If it’s made of diamonds? Of course!” Bdubs replied, rummaging through his inventory, “After all, my hand might slip and grab my lava bucket instead.”
“ALRIGHT!” Jimmy shouted, “Just please! I can’t live down being yellow first again.”
Bdubs chuckled, taking mercy and flooding the hole. Jimmy quickly swam up, clawing his way onto solid ground and giving himself a firm shake to dry himself off. His long fluffy golden tail rained water droplets everywhere.
“Ah, a fellow dog of culture, I see,” Bdubs noted.
Jimmy cracked a smile, “Once a big dog, always a big dog. Woof, woof.” He picked himself up, taking off his diamond boots and handing them over. “Now please, some meat would be nice.”
“Oh I don't have any food on me,” Bdubs replied casually, slipping the armor on. “Should have probably grabbed some before leaving my crew, now that I think about it.”
Jimmy let out an anguished cry, hands shooting out to take hold of Bdubs shoulders. He dug into the iron armor there, “Are you KIDDING ME?” he shouted, close to tears, “Do you have any idea what I’ve been through!? Wave after wave after wave of creepers and zombies hounded me down there. Half a heart, Bdubs! I could trip and it’d be the end of me.”
“I’ve got a bed if you want to set your spawn here,” Bdubs offered with a bright cheery smile. Jimmy screamed out in aggravation. Bdubs patted his shoulder.
“Oh, that explains it.”
Jimmy and Bdubs turned at the sound of a third voice, and emerging from one of the rolling hills of this biome was Mumbo Jumbo of all people.
“Mumbo!” Bdubs exclaimed, giving a friendly wave. “And on top of a mound!”
“Hmm? Oh! Yes! Once a mounder, always a mounder,” Mumbo replied with a grin, carefully hopping down the blocks to make it to their sides. His skin black and white tail shot out for balance. “Although, I’ve graduated to new heights this go-around. You could say I’m a mountaineer, now.”
“Well, ain’t that nice,” Bdubs complimented, “Are Skizz and Impulse with ya then?”
“Oh yes!” Mumbo assured, “BigB too.”
“Lovely catching up,” Jimmy interrupted, eye twitching, “But we have pressing matters at hand! Mumbo, do you have any food on you, bud?
“Hmm? Oh. Oh right, food. That would have been a good idea, wouldn’t it have been.” Mumbo realized aloud, tapping his chin thoughtfully.
“YOU PEOPLE ARE IMPOSSIBLE!” Jimmy screamed.
Bdubs laughed, patting Jimmy’s shoulder and spreading his other arm out over the horizon, “Look, we’re in a plains biome, I’m sure we can find ya something to munch on.”
“All the animals are gone already!” Jimmy snapped, “This is the life series not Hermitcraft!”
“There’s plenty of horses,” Mumbo pointed out, unhelpfully.
“I CAN’T EAT A HORSE.”
“Not hungry enough, eh?” Mumbo replied.
Jimmy paused mid scream to laugh, “Alright, that’s a good one.” He then returned to screaming, “I’ve got two ticks left in my hunger bar before I starve to death. And that’s gonna be on both your consciences now, I hope you know.”
“I’m sure I can convince Etho to part with some snacks when I find him,” Bdubs assured.
“Isn’t Etho a cat, though? At least, that’s what Impulse told me,” Mumbo said, “Why are you looking for him?”
“Because I’m me, Mumbo, that’s why,” Bdubs snapped.
“Right,” Mumbo said, “Should have expected that. Anyway, if you’ll excuse me I need to collect some redstone down in that ravine. No reason, of course.”
“Of course,” Bdubs played along. He waved as Mumbo pushed past them, black and white spotted tail wagging behind him. He turned back to Jimmy, “Now which way did Etho go?”
Jimmy sighed, “He went further up, toward Scar’s place, I think. Have you been there yet? Last I saw him he was making some sort of shanty on the lake edge.”
“And that’s where we shall go,” Bdubs announced.
“I can’t sprint,” Jimmy said, looping an arm around Bdubs’ as a preventative measure. “Don’t you dare leave me behind.”
Bdubs laughed, but acquiesced. Slowing his pace down as they walked through the peaceful meadows. It was strange to see so few mobs and people. Eerie, really. But eventually from the fog appeared a new structure at the lake's edge. A fishing hut made of oak and spruce, already with a nice pier jutting into the water.
Scar came into view first, arms waving about as he spoke to three other players. Even before he rendered, Bdubs could tell the tallest silhouette to be Etho, most likely standing beside Joel and Scott based on Jimmy’s previous recollection.
“ETHO!” Bdubs shouted, abandoning Jimmy completely to sprint over to him.
Etho’s head shot up, and there was a soft crinkle around his eyes as they lit up in recognition. “Oh snappers, it’s a Bdubs!” he exclaimed, lifting his hand to wave at him.
“Why, hello there, Bdubs,” Scar intercepted, coming in between them before Bdubs could go in for the hug, “Welcome to my dock.”
“Right,” Bdubs nodded. “It’s a nice dock.”
“Thanks, I made it myself. Took all my wood,” Scar continued proudly, his gray and black tail swishing dangerously behind him.
“That’s not even true,” another voice snapped, and Bdubs quickly saw Lizzie coming into view. She was munching on a fish, her small ears folded close to her head, “I made the dock. You only made the shanty.”
“Details,” Scar waved off with his ever present smile.
“Food!” Bdubs shouted, pointing at the half eaten cod in Lizzie’s hand, “Jimmy needs some! Lizzie can you spare a fish for the starving man behind me?”
“Oh, Bdubs,” Joel groaned, his striped tail drooping in disappointment, “You actually helped him?”
“He was supposed to stay in the hole.” Scott clicked his tongue, shaking his head.
“Dogs, amiright?” Joel offered cheekily. Bdubs couldn’t help but let out a petulant little huff at that.
By that point Jimmy had finally staggered over to them, doubling over to rest his hands on his knees. “One tick! One tick left and I die before your callous eyes!”
“I’ve got food, Jimmy,” Lizzie assured, digging through her inventory, “But you’ll have to swear your undying loyalty to me first.”
“FINE!” Jimmy agreed.
“See, this is how you get into so much trouble, Jimmy,” Scott commented, “You agree too quickly to things.”
“The man’s on death’s door, Scott. You can’t blame him,” Scar defended, even as he took out his own cooked cod to eat in front of him.
“To seal the deal I shall give you this!” Lizzie announced, handing over a bone.
“Am I joke to you?” Jimmy growled, holding the bone, “You expect me to eat this? Just because I’m a dog? Har, har, har, everybody.” He pretended to give the bone a bite, only for his jaw to snap right through it. He blinked, surprised, nostrils flaring and bringing the bone to his mouth to properly chew on it.
And then he ate it completely.
“Oh,” Lizzie said, dumbfounded.
Joel started to laugh, “Did he seriously just–”
“There’s a terrible bone joke just waiting to be made here,” Scott snickered, politely covering his smile with his hand.
Jimmy’s face colored, “Shut up! Just hold on a second,”
“Did it work?” Bdubs asked, intrigued. His floppy ears did their best to perk up.
“It…worked,” Jimmy confirmed, eyes widening
“So I can punch you now? Thank void I’ve been having to hold back this whole time–” Joel started, pushing his way forward and winding his arm back.
Jimmy screeched, high pitched. Etho’s arm shot out to grab Joel by the scruff of his shirt while the poor golden retriever quickly ran behind Bdubs. “It didn’t FILL me up! I’m not anywhere close to healed yet. Get away from me, Joel!”
Lizzie stared at one of her bones, appraising it. Carefully, she raised it to her mouth and gave it an experimental gnaw. She grimaced.
“Let me try it,” Bdubs pawed at the bone, curiosity having gotten the best of him yet again. He immediately managed to snap it in half with his teeth, despite missing several. His eyes widened, “Huh. It’s not half bad!”
“This must be a dog thing,” Lizzie murmured, putting a finger to her chin, “I mean you can feed bones to wild wolves so it sort of makes sense.”
“Wait a tick,” Jimmy said, straightening up, “Wouldn’t that…Wouldn’t that mean…” He let his voice fade off as he rifled through his inventory to pull out a piece of rotten flesh.
“Oh that is vile, Jimmy!” Joel snapped.
Jimmy took a bite. His eyes widened. “NO WAY! ARE YOU KIDDING ME?”
Bdubs tilted his head to the side. Jimmy handed him another piece of the zombie flesh and he took a brave bite. An explosion of flavors hit his tongue all at once. Savory rich barbecue with just a hint of heat at the edges. He could feel himself salivating for more as he gobbled up the supposed rancid meat. “Oh my! This is gourmet!”
“Are you telling me, I’ve been panicking for the past few hours when I could have eaten any of the 40 pieces of rotten flesh in my inventory!?” Jimmy cried, sinking down to his knees.
“This is amazing,” Joel snickered, “I’m glad you dragged us out here, Scott.”
“I’m full of great ideas,” Scott preened, flicking his hair back to emphasize the point. His blue gray tail swished behind him for added effect.
“Anyway,” Etho said, finally making his way to stand by his old friend, “Fancy seeing you here, Bdubs.”
“Etho!” Bdubs shouted, remembering the whole point of the day.
“Shouldn’t you be with your pack?” Etho faux sniffled, turning his head to the side.
“I came to check on you!” Bdubs insisted, pushing toward him. “Sure, I was led astray momentarily, but here I am in the end! That’s got to count for something, right?”
“I’m not letting more people move in with me,” Joel growled, putting his foot down.
Etho patted Joels’ shoulder, lifting his other hand to scratch the back of his own neck, “Ya see, Bdubs, after that whole debacle, I kinda joined my own alliance. A Fe-liance.”
“Oh.” Bdubs took a step back, wounded. “Oh, I see.”
“Aww man, Joel,” Etho caved immediately, turning to the tabby cat, “Can’t we keep him?”
“Absolutely not.”
“But look at him. How could you say no to that face?”
“Easily,” Joel said. Scott laughed.
“Gentlemen,” Scar clapped, grabbing everyone's attention once more. Lizzie made a loud ahem, her tail lashing out in warning. Scar quickly amended, “And Lady. Although this has been quite the joyous reunion, I do believe you three came here for business?”
“We came for information, actually,” Scott cut in, taking a step forward, “From Lizzie, really. I hear you’ve got quite the advantage in this game, this time around.”
Lizzie blinked owlishly, “Whatever do you mean?”
“Oh, she’s good,” Bdubs whispered to Jimmy and Etho, who were standing closest to him.
“That’s the same look you pull half the time,” Etho huffed, crossing his arms.
“Game recognizes game,” Bdubs nodded. “Did I say that right? Gem taught me that one.”
“Joel told me everything,” Scott said bluntly. Joel’s ears pinned back, betrayed.
Lizzie scowled, turning to her husband, “Joel! You had one job!”
“I didn’t know it was a secret!” Joel snapped, tabby tail lashing behind him.
“Of course it was a secret!” Lizzie huffed. She crossed her arms, glaring up at Scott. “Well, you already know, then. No fall damage.”
“No fall damage?” Etho repeated, eyes widening a fraction.
“At all?” Bdubs added. “Well, wouldn’t that be nifty.”
“Interesting,” Scott continued tapping his chin, “What else do you know?”
Lizzie glowered, “Maybe that’s all I know.”
“Oh, come on now,” Scott started, his tone lilting as he bent forward to get closer to Lizzie’s face, “You expect me to believe the great LDShadowlady spent all of her imperial days as a cat and learned only one thing?”
“Oh, Scott,” Lizzie said, turning her head shyly to the side, “You’re gonna make me blush.”
Joel visibly scowled.
“Anybody got blocks?” Etho asked, “I gotta try this no fall damage thing.”
“Oh, it’s amazing Etho,” Joel egged on, eager to latch onto any distraction from his wife’s annoyance at him, “I went all the way to the height limit. You saw!”
“I did see,” Etho agreed with a light laugh.
“Lizzie’s got cobble in her chest,” Jimmy pointed out, uncrouching from the chest he’d been rifling through..
Lizzie whirled around at him, “Jimmy! I saved your life and you’re going through my things?”
Etho grabbed two stacks easily, turning towards Bdubs, “What do you say, wanna give it a shot with me?”
Bdubs reddened, but he took the offered stack, “Oh, well, when you ask so nicely how could I possibly refuse?” Then he pocketed the stack and put his hands on his hips, “Are you CRAZY? I’m no cat! You think me a FOOL?”
Etho cackled, “Just keeping you on your toes, is all.” He wiped at his eye, and hopped up onto a block, “I’m still gonna check it out for myself, though.”
Bdubs watched with growing wariness as Etho ascended upwards. He could hear the bickering around him start to die down as all eyes veered toward the white cat in the sky.
“You know, this has me thinking,” Scar started, rubbing his chin thoughtfully, “We could be a whole traveling circus. Think of all the trapeze arts! No safety nets. It’d be spectacular. People would pay a fortune to see it. And there would be absolutely no clowns.”
“Shh,” Joel shushed, “He’s gonna jump. Jump into my arms Etho!!” he extended out his hands, only to be nudged in the side by both Scott and Lizzie adding up to one solid tick of damage against him.
Etho did jump and, without a drop of water, landed on his feet before them. His tail pointed straight out for balance and his own eyes were wide like even he couldn’t believe it. Then he turned toward his audience and asked, “Did that make you jump?”
“Oh, BROTHER,” Bdubs lamented, rolling his eyes. Hopefully, his lambasting would cover up the jealousy and admiration festering just underneath the surface.
“I didn’t go that far up,” Etho admitted sheepishly after a moment, stepping away from his stack, “But you know what, Bdubs? I bet you could water bucket clutch from that height.”
“No way,” Bdubs said.
“Perhaps we should change the saying from scaredy cat to scaredy dog,” Joel goaded.
“Good one,” Scott replied flatly.
“It was NOT,” Jimmy snapped, “Don’t listen to them Bdubs! You don’t need to prove nothin’.”
“Of course I’m not doing something that stupid,” Bdubs assured.
“I’ll give you this saddle,” Etho offered.
“Alright,” Bdubs sighed, pulling out the stack of cobblestone and starting to hop up into the sky. He ignored Jimmy’s squawking and Joel’s cackling, instead focusing on not slipping off his precarious tower. As he reached the halfway point he realized very quickly how stupid he was being. “Committing to the bit never did me wrong before,” he murmured to himself. He blinked and then snapped aloud, “Except for every time it did! What the heck am I doing up here!?”
He stared down at his audience and pursed his lips. He couldn’t mine down to them now. He’d never live it down. He’d bring great shame not only to himself but to all of dogkind. Plus, he really did want a saddle.
“You’re a professional, Bdubs,” he reminded himself, shaking off his nerves and squaring his shoulders. He pulled out his bucket of water, counted to three, then counted to three again, and then finally psyched himself out enough to just jump at the number two.
BDoubleO100 fell from a high place. ImpulseSV > OH NO! IntheLittleWood > First Blood TangoTek > Jimmy you can breathe now! ZombieCleo > I let you out of my sight for FIVE MINUTES
Bdubs opened his eyes at spawn and let out a frustrated scream. He stomped around trying to let the anger out. Oh, he was going to murder Etho, his eternal alliance be damned. He started hoofing it to the otherside of the lake, lamenting his lack of horse. His lack of anything. Especially with the sun already starting to set. It wouldn’t be long until night befell them.
“Bdubs! Over here!” he heard Jimmy shout. He turned his head to see that both Jimmy and Lizzie were running toward him, meeting him about halfway.
“We grabbed your stuff,” Jimmy said quickly as he started chucking items out of his pockets and onto the ground.
“I gave Etho quite the tongue lashing too,” Lizzie assured, “Put the fear of the void in ‘im for messing with my dogs like that.”
“Your dogs?” Jimmy questioned.
“I gave you each a bone, didn’t I?” Lizzie reminded him.
“I’ve got a bone to pick with a certain someone,” Bdubs interrupted, pushing past them after accounting for his relatively small amount of things. He sprinted the rest of the way and in no time he found exactly who he was looking for.
“ETHO, WHAT THE HECK!” Bdubs shouted, glaring as the white cat seemed to curl in on himself nervously. His white ears pinned so close to his head they became lost in his unruly hair.
“I swear I was gonna put down some water as a safety last minute,” Etho muttered, not looking him in the eye. He rummaged through his inventory and pulled out a horse saddle, “You still want the saddle?”
“I don’t want your BLOOD SADDLE!” Bdubs bellowed, stomping his foot for added effect. “I want my life back!”
“Uh,” Etho started, glancing over to his alliance for help.
Joel stepped in easily enough, “Sorry, Bdubs, we don’t speak dog.” He grabbed hold of Etho’s arm, pulling him away, “Etho! Scott! Uh, we should go work on the base! That isn’t here!”
“Right,” Etho agreed as he allowed himself to be dragged, “We’ve got a tree to build.”
“You’re even building trees without me, now?” Bdubs called out, “I hate you!”
“Quite the tragic break up we’re witnessing, huh boys,” Lizzie commented, shaking her head solemnly where she stood between Jimmy and Scar.
“What, you and Joel?” Scar blinked.
“What? No! Bdubs and Etho!” Lizzie snapped.
“But you’re sticking with me right? Not following your husband out there? I take loyalty very seriously here, Lizzie,” Scar warned.
“Of course!” Lizzie waved off, “That man’s dead to me.” She ignored the strangled cry of I heard that from Joel, instead giving Scar a bright cheery smile. He echoed it and the atmosphere seemed to grow a bit tenser, enough for Jimmy to take a wary step back.
“Timmy, where are you going?” Scar asked, turning towards him.
“Yeah, Jimmy, you’re one of us now, remember?” Lizzie cautioned.
Jimmy swallowed, “Uh, right, about that. You know, you two being cats, and us being dogs–”
“The circus doesn’t discriminate,” Scar waved off.
“You took the bone, Jimmy,” Lizzie reminded him sternly.
“Erm, Bdubs, what do you think?” Jimmy tried, turning desperately to the silent pug still watching the trio retreating in the distance.
Bdubs ignored him entirely, instead screaming out “WAIT!” at the top of his lungs.
Jimmy blanched as he watched his fellow dog sprint away from him, calling out a desperate plea of, “Don’t leave me here alone!”
Bdubs caught up to the cat trio easily enough. He stood right in front of Etho, who still looked too sheepish to meet his gaze. With his sternest glare he demanded, “Give me the saddle.”
Etho gave a nervous chuckle but handed over the item all the same. “So…we’re good now? No hard feelings?”
“Nope,” Bdubs answered with a cheery smile, “You’re absolutely dead to me!” He then swiveled round, racing back to join Lizzie, Scar and Jimmy where he left them.
“Oh, thank the void you didn’t abandon me,” Jimmy sighed out in relief.
“Abandon you? No! Never!” Bdubs assured, throwing an arm around the taller dog, “We’re bone brothers now.”
Lizzie cheered and Scar gave his own approving cackle as he swept them all in for a group hug. From within the inner circle, Bdubs continued, “Alright, new family, here’s the deal. I’ve got intel I can share about a whole host of these TRAITORS on this server.”
Still, even as he shared all he knew about the locations of the other players and their species, he couldn’t help glancing behind his back every now and then, just in case. And each time his eyes met only the empty landscape, he felt the cold wrap around his heart just a little bit tighter.
#life series smp#grian#bdoubleo100#solidaritygaming#mumbo jumbo#smallishbeans#ethoslab#ldshadowlady#goodtimeswithscar#smajor1995#zombiecleo#inthelittlewood#wild life smp
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