#I ain’t even mad at Molly anymore | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

deanstead · 4 years ago

Text

Hidden Feelings

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Request by @winqhster: Hii!! I would like to request a Jay imagine where the reader works in the Intelligence Unit and is younger than him. She develops a crush on Jay, but overtime she tries to distance herself from him. She takes a week off from work and doesn't tell anyone. Jay begins to worry, so he goes to her apartment. At her apartment, they end up arguing and she says that he sees her as a child. Can it end with a happy ending with them getting together!!

Warnings: swearing, a little angst, fluff

A/N: This took a little more time than I expected but I enjoyed writing this so I hope you like what I did with it! If you have any thoughts, feedback or even just want to say hi, please (always) feel free to reply or send me an ask, always love hearing from all of you. Also, thank you so much for all the love so far, hope you’ve been enjoying my writing! Jay requests remain open, feel free to send in an ask!

---

You looked up from your desk, your gaze falling onto your partner sitting across from you. Jay had a small frown on his face, like he usually did when he was deep in thought, as he twirled a pen in his right hand.

As if he felt you looking at him, his eyes flicked upwards and he cocked his eyebrows upwards. “Everything ok?”

Slightly embarrassed, you cleared your throat and nodded. “Yeah… just thinking…”

Jay glanced at his watch. “It’s late, we should call it a day.” He leaned over to turn off his computer before looking back up at you. “Molly’s?”

You hesitated. Normally, you would have jumped at the idea - chilling with a beer after a long day was something you couldn’t resist but recently you could feel a magnetic pull towards Jay that you couldn’t explain, which really scared you.

“I think I’ll head home tonight.” You told him.

Jay turned back towards you. “Everything okay?”

You nodded back and smiled. “Just tired.”

A small concerned frown crossed Jay’s face making you look up at him again but it was gone just as quickly, making you think you might have imagined it.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You called, pulling your jacket around you as you headed out of the district.

---

It was getting harder and harder to do this. It had started off as a warm feeling, you felt like you had earned a big brother in your partner who was always looking out for you, making sure you were okay, both at work and off. Then somehow along the way it had transitioned into a stupid crush, probably from a physical attraction – but who wouldn’t be attracted to Jay Halstead?

And now, you were head over fucking heels in love with him and you had no idea how it had come to this.

It scared you, this sudden intense feeling you had towards him, so much you didn’t know how to be around him anymore. You felt Jay’s eyes on you and you looked up.

“Hey, we’re hitting Molly’s after work. You in?”

You could feel Jay studying you as you struggled to keep your expression in check. “You guys go ahead.” You responded, pushing your chair backwards and heading for the pantry.

Jay frowned but didn’t follow you.

It had been about two weeks since you had started to put some distance between yourself and Jay. You could tell he was confused, at the very least, and it was only a matter of time before he decided to corner you so you really needed some time and space to deal with this, once and for all.

By the time the end of the day came, you were sure this was what you had to do. Glad that everyone else had left, you got up and knocked on Voight’s office door. “Sarge, can I have a word?”

Voight looked up from where he was sitting at his desk, studying your expression before nodding and motioning for you to close the door.

“What’s up?”

You took a deep breath. “I have some unused furlough days. I need a week, if that’s okay?”

Voight didn’t say anything but continued to look at you. “Everything okay?” His eyes flicked up momentarily to look at Jay’s empty desk.

You nodded. “Yeah, I just have some... personal matters I have to take care of.” You paused, trying in vain to read his expression. “If it’s okay with you… I…”

Voight nodded, without waiting for you to finish. “Take the time, do what you have to do.”

You nodded. “Thanks, Sarge.”

----

Jay had turned it over and over a million times in his head over the past two weeks. He was sure you were hiding something from him, he just wasn’t sure what.

You had been different lately – the way you talked or walked, hell you barely even made eye contact with him this last week.

Jay jogged up the stairs to Intelligence, noting with mild concern that you hadn’t come in yet. He glanced at his watch. He was running late so he had expected you to already be seated at your desk, sipping your coffee. Instead, your table was neat, your chair tucked in. You weren’t here yet and that in itself was strange.

He sat at his desk, looking up every time he heard footsteps until Voight stepped out of his office.

“We’re operating a member down, Y/L/N is on furlough, I need everyone’s head on straight.” Voight barked. “Let’s go.”

Jay frowned and jogged towards Voight. “Sarge. Furlough?”

Voight didn’t respond immediately. “You’re riding with me today.”

Jay nodded, getting into the car. “Did she say why?”

Voight looked at Jay, his eyes seeming to pierce right through him. “Personal stuff.”

---

You were on day three of your furlough when your doorbell rang.

You frowned, confused as to who would be here. You weren’t expecting anyone, or anything.

You pulled the door open and froze. “Jay?”

Jay had that look on his face. The one that told you he had probably been brewing all the way here.

“What’s going on?” You asked as he stormed in.

“What’s going on?” He repeated as you scrunched up your eyebrows. “What’s going on is that you disappeared for three days without bothering to tell me anything. That’s what’s going on.” He huffed.

“Hold on, Jay.” You tried to talk but he didn’t let you.

“What’s going on is that I can’t believe you are so irresponsible that you won’t even tell your partner when you’re going to be back.” Jay continued with his tirade but your dismay at him being angry at you switched to a sudden flare in your gut.

“Irresponsible?” You asked, looking directly at him. “I told Voight I needed a week.”

Jay spun back around to look at you. “And you didn’t think you should tell me? You had your damn phone off for three days.”

“And it didn’t occur to you that I needed time? I needed space?” You shot back, getting more furious by the second.

“Time? Space? It takes you five seconds to send me a damn text Y/N! How am I supposed to look out for you if you don’t tell me anything?”

You shook your head. “That’s the problem, Jay. You always treat me like a damn child! I can take care of myself.”

Jay paused for a second, a hurt look briefly crossing his face, so quickly that you almost missed it. “What are you saying? You don’t want me to look out for you?”

You shook your head. “I’m saying, don’t treat me like a damn child. I’m not. I’m not a little girl, and I sure as hell ain’t your little sister.” You snapped.

“I never said you were!”

“Then stop being so nice to me!” You screamed.

Jay lowered his voice now. “So, you want me to ignore you? Be mean to you? Is that it? I don’t get it!”

“That’s not what I’m saying!”

“Then what, Y/N? What is it? You’ve been avoiding me for weeks and then you just disappear? Are you going to leave the unit next?” Jay asked and this time, you heard it, a tone of desperation in his voice.

“I’m not leaving, Jay.” You stressed, bringing your voice down a few notches. “Like I said, I just need some time.”

“Some time for what?” Jay pressed.

“It’s nothing.” You mumbled. “Just drop it.”

“Damn it, Y/N. You ask me not to treat you like a child, but you’re sure as hell behaving like one.” Jay’s voice rose again.

You glared at him. “To get over you, okay? Happy? I just needed some time and space to squash down all my damn feelings for you so I can go back to being your partner or your younger sister or whatever the hell you need me to be so drop it!” You yelled.

Jay’s eyes widened and your heart sank. There, you did it. You let your emotions get the better of you and you let it slip like you always do when you’re mad and now everything was going to be awkward and maybe you would have to transfer out of the unit or change your partner…

“Y/N.” His voice was soft when he spoke this time.

You turned away from Jay. You didn’t want to see that look on his face. The look he had on to reject you or try to let you down easy.

Jay grabbed your wrist and turned you back towards him. “Who the hell said it was okay for you to get over me?”

Without waiting for an answer, Jay pushed his lips onto yours, one of his hands resting on your lower back, pulling you towards him, while his other hand found the back of your neck, gently moving upwards to thread through your hair. Your eyes fluttered shut as he pulled you deeper into the kiss.

You had imagined this so many times, you had wanted this for so long, yet now that it was happening, it was so much more than you had ever dreamed of. The room felt like it was spinning around the both of you as Jay covered your lips with his and you could even taste the remnants of whisky on his lips.

Gently, he pulled away, looking down into your eyes. “I so did not go on furlough for this.” You muttered.

Jay chuckled. “I was just worried about you.”

“Next time just tell me.” You answered, looping your arms around his waist.

Jay rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk.”

You let out a smile as Jay rested his forehead against yours. “Don’t you ever disappear like that, ever again.” He whispered.

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fezcosbitch · 4 years ago

Text

JJ Maybank imagine:

Passion and wild regret

Summary: The pogues think you’re a bad influence on JJ.

I’ve been away for a couple of days so I hope this is ok! ��

All feedbacks welcome as long as it’s not rude or mean ❤️

Warnings: angst, drug use (kind of, they aren’t taken I also do NOT condone drug use, unless it’s for medical reasons).

And yeah, let’s get into to it...

——————————————————————————

You were a bit of a party girl, a wildcard, some would say. ‘Some’ being everyone except for you, who thought you were completely casual.

You were on the beach, at another summer kegger, where, to be fair, you may have a had a bit too much to drink, which of course, normally leads to JJ watching over you like a hawk. You had just downed your 15th (?) beer of the night, and decided to join in on truth or dare with the tourons, with a few pogues and kooks scattered about in the circle. “Y/n, truth or dare?” A random touron asked you. “Easy, dare” you responded, a grin on your face. The touron smirked, clearly having his dare planned out. “I dare you to take this” he said while holding up a clear baggie which looked to have a couple pills in it. “What is it?” You questioned, if you were going to take something you wanted to know what it was. “Only Molly” he said with a sly smirk on his face, looking you in the eye, testing you. The circle went silent, watching for your reaction, and looking at the touron to see if he was serious. “Ok, give it over” you replied, not ever being one to back down from a challenge, maintaining eye contact with him the whole time.

By now, JJ had heard of what you had been dared to do, as well as the rest of the pogues, and they were running to you right now, to stop you from making one of the biggest mistakes of your life. JJ caught you just in time, and slapped the pill out of your hand. “Jesus Christ you really are pissed, come on” J said, grabbing your arm and pulling you up, away from the rest of the group and into the chateau. Laying you down on his bed and waiting for you to fall asleep before going back to the beach to meet back with the pogues at the kegger.

JJs POV:

“What she do over there then JJ” Kie questioned me because they didn’t hear the whole story before we rushed over. “Just y/n being y/n I guess” I chuckled. The rest of the pogues frowned at me, leaving me confused “what” I asked, looking around until one of them spoke up. All three pogues looked at eachother, before John B started speaking “we just- we don’t think she’s a good influence on you man, I mean look at this, look at earlier, she shouldn’t be your responsibility bro, you’re not her parent why should you have to be stressed all evening just waiting for her to do something that you need to rescue her from, why do you have to look after her because she’s so stupid that she can’t control herself, I mean, fuck! Bro she almost took a class A drug today, the only reason she didn’t is because you stopped her. What happens when you’re not there bro? Or what if she somehow convinced you to do it? To join her? I don’t want that for you, none of us do, ok J. She ain’t good for you, it’s about time you realise.” John B ranted. “Shut up, John B, you don’t know what your talking about” I argued back, biting my tongue, not being in the mood for John Bs interference. “I- I don’t know what I’m talking about? Huh J, l-” JB started before Interrupted “NO! Ok you don’t know what your talking about! You’re mackin’ a kook, who’s had everything handed to her her whole life, she’s got everything she’d ever want at her finger tips. She wants a holiday? She gets a holiday. She wants a burger? She gets a burger. She’s not had to deal with the same struggle I have, or y/n has ok, so don’t you dare, stand there and compare you, and your fucking life with your perfect girlfriend and her perfect money, to me, and my girlfriend, who have to take any happiness they can get, so if she wants to get drunk, she’ll get drunk. Of course there’s a limit, I’m not gonna allow her to take that mdma shit, alright, but who can blame her? With the shit that’s happened to her who blames her?” I finally let out, absolutely fuming at John B, how dare he say that shit about her. “SHES A BURDEN JJ, Y/Ns A BURDEN! SHE ACTS LIKE A CHILD! You don’t have to look after her, you deserve more then that” Kiara then burst out, getting involved aswell. I looked between the two of them outraged at how they were acting. “I KNOW OK! I know I look after her, but did you ever once think that maybe I enjoy it? That I like the idea of looking after her? Maybe that’s what I want to do, do you guys EVER consider other peoples emotions? Jesus Christ, fuck you guys” I turned around and stormed off towards the chateau, completely mad at them for what they said. How dare they.

Y/ns POV:

I woke up 5 minutes ago, and immediately started walking to where I knew the pogues would be. As my feet touched the beach I could hear them shouting, so I stopped and listened in, curious, and not wanting to interrupt their seemingly important conversation. “She’s a burden JJ” Who? You were drawn in, who on earth where they talking about like that? “Y/ns a burden” kiara continued.... oh shit. That was great, you guess. Your own friends consider you a burden to your boyfriend, how... joyous. “I know ok” you heard jj shout back. Oh fuck, even better, your own boyfriend agrees. You turned around and ran back to the chateau and into JJs room immediately, not wanting to hear the other harsh words they supposedly say when you’re not around. Taking off the necklace he gave you on the day he asked you out (which you haven’t taken off since) and started writing a note. When you were done, you left them both on his bed side table, side by side so he wouldn’t miss them, and sprinted back home.

How dare he, you thought. How dare he act as if he enjoyed going out with you, and wanted to be with you, when apparently, all this time he, and all his friends thought you were a burden, what even is this? Who says that about the ones they love? Yeah, you might not have had the best upbringing and yeah, you may be a bit (quite a lot) rough around the edges, but so’s JJ, and you don’t judge him or love him any less for that. You don’t see him as a burden. What is is about you? That just, makes people want to leave you behind, I mean should it even be surprising anymore? Your mom took off a while ago and your dad.... well, he stayed but let’s not get into that but, why did she leave you? Along with your brother, and nan and grandad, they all seemed to disappear, forgetting you ever existed. What was it about you. You got home and raced upstairs, trying your hardest not to wake your dad up, and went to bed, tears flowing down your face and thoughts running wild in your mind. Goddamn JJ, why couldn’t he just tell you he didn’t want to be with you anymore? Why’s it always your heart getting broken? But oh well, right? He’s probably happier now he doesn’t have to deal with you and your problems.

JJs POV:

I slammed the door to my room open and just, screamed. Why do they think they can say that to me? Who do they think they are?

I look over to my left, wanting to just crawl into bed with y/n and forget the whole thing, but there’s one problem...I can’t. She’s not there. FUCK. Where did she go? There’s no way she could’ve heard. I look down and see a very familiar necklace, and a note next to it. I pick up the necklace, running my fingers over it, eyebrows furrowing, why’d she take it off? She never takes it off? My heart starts to race as I imagine every possibility, has she been kidnapped? Taken away? Has DCS finally got her? What happened. I then decided to open the note, eyes focusing on her neat handwriting, almost mocking me in a way, the pretty, pristine handwriting and the beautiful words almost making me forget the main message, that were done.

𝒥𝒿,

𝐼 𝓀𝓃𝑜𝓌 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓋𝑒 𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓁𝒾𝓈𝑒𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒾𝓈 𝒷𝑒𝒸𝒶𝓊𝓈𝑒, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓈𝑒𝑒, 𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃𝓉𝓁𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉𝓈 𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓇𝑒𝓁𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓅 𝒶𝓇𝑒𝓃’𝓉 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓇𝑒 𝐼 𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓊𝑔𝒽𝓉 𝓌𝑒 𝓁𝑒𝒻𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓂 𝑒𝒾𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇, 𝒾 𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝓇𝒹 𝒥𝒿, 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝑜𝓌 𝒾𝓇𝓇𝑒𝓈𝓅𝑜𝓃𝓈𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝓀 𝐼 𝒶𝓂, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓇𝑒 𝓇𝒾𝑔𝒽𝓉, 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝒽𝒶𝓋𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓅𝓊𝓉 𝓊𝓅 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒾𝓉, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼, 𝒾𝓃 𝒶 𝓌𝒶𝓎 𝐼 𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓈, 𝒶𝓂 𝓂𝒶𝓀𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓉 𝑒𝒶𝓈𝒾𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒥, 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒. 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝐼 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝒷𝑜𝓊𝓉—𝒽𝑜𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝒢𝑜𝒹—𝒾𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝓎 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝐼 𝒹𝑜𝓃’𝓉 𝓂𝓊𝒸𝒽 𝒸𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓁𝓁 𝒻𝒾𝓃𝒹 𝒽𝒶𝓅𝓅𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽. 𝐼 𝓂𝑒𝒶𝓃 𝒶𝓈 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓈 𝓈𝒽𝑒’𝓈 𝒶 𝒻𝓇𝒾𝑒𝓃𝒹𝓁𝓎 𝑔𝒾𝓇𝓁 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓉𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓃𝒾𝒸𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓀𝒾𝓃𝒹. 𝐼𝒻 𝓈𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝑜𝑒𝓈𝓃’𝓉 𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝒸𝑜𝓂𝑒 𝒶𝓉 𝒽𝑒𝓇 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝒶 𝒽𝒶𝓂𝓂𝑒𝓇. 𝒴𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝑒𝓎𝑒 𝓂𝒶𝓎 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓈𝑜𝓂𝑒𝑜𝓃𝑒 𝑒𝓁𝓈𝑒, 𝑜𝓇 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝒻𝑒𝓈𝓉𝓎𝓁𝑒, 𝒷𝓊𝓉 𝓂𝓎 𝑒𝓎𝑒 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈 𝒷𝑒 𝑜𝓃 𝓎𝑜𝓊, 𝒥. 𝐼’𝓁𝓁 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓈𝓉𝓇𝒶𝓃𝑔𝑒 𝓋𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓊𝑒𝓈. 𝒩𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓇 𝒻𝑜𝓇𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝓊𝓃𝒹𝑒𝓇𝓃𝑒𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒸𝑜𝓋𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝑜𝒻 𝓇𝒶𝓊𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓈 𝓁𝒶𝓃𝑔𝓊𝒶𝑔𝑒 ��𝓃𝒹 𝑜𝓊𝓉𝓁𝒶𝓃𝒹𝒾𝓈𝒽 𝒷𝑒𝒽𝒶𝓋𝒾𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝒾𝓈 𝒶 𝓇𝑒𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓀𝒶𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓅𝓊𝓇𝒾𝓉𝒶𝓃𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓁 𝓂𝒶𝓃. 𝐼 𝒶𝓂 𝒶 𝒾𝓃𝒸𝓇𝑒𝒹𝒾𝒷𝓁𝑒 𝒷𝓊𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓃, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒶 𝓁𝑜𝓉 𝓉𝑜 𝓉𝒶𝓀𝑒 𝒽𝑜𝓁𝒹 𝑜𝒻, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒽𝓎 𝓎𝑜𝓊’𝓋𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝓊𝒸𝓀 𝒷𝓎 𝓂𝑒 𝓈𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝓃𝑔 𝒾𝓈 𝒶𝓃 𝒾𝓃𝒹𝒾𝒸𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝑜𝒻 𝓎𝑜𝓊𝓇 𝓁𝑜𝓎𝒶𝓁𝓉𝓎. 𝐼 𝓈𝒽𝒶𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝒾𝓈𝓈 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓅𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓁𝒹 𝓇𝑒𝑔𝓇𝑒𝓉. 𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝑜𝓋𝑒, 𝒶𝓁𝓌𝒶𝓎𝓈, 𝓎/n

Tears where streaming down my face, she left me, all because she over heard kie and the pogues sprouting absolute bullshit about our relationship. She actually left, oh fuck, why does it hurt so much. I’ll go after her tomorrow, we can sort it out, we’ll talk it through tomorrow when she’s not drunk and the pogues will have no influence. I walked out to the hammock and layed down, looking out to the stars, hoping that she’d listen to my explanation and praying that hopefully, she’ll take me back. And that the pogues didn’t ruin everything for us. I’ll wait until I can have her in my arms again, whether she takes me back or not, I’ll wait for her, in life, and until death.

——————————————————————————

How was it? I feel like it was really bad but idk?

All feed backs welcome as long as it’s not rude or mean❤️

Part 2 idk is that needed? If you want one, ask! 💙

But uh yeah, that was that oops.

Also that letter wasn’t mine, it was the letter from Richard burton to Elizabeth Taylor, I just made some adaptions! X

But yeah, cya

Part 2^

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norafike · 4 years ago

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Despite all this, I still love you 21

I would like to thank my dear friends @journal-of-an-outlaw and @bucketofcowboys for taking the time to beta read this for me. Please be sure to go check them and out and give them a follow, some of the loveliest people I have met here.

“Easy now.” His voice was gentle and calming. Nora rested comfortably in his arms and while it still hurt for someone to touch her flesh he did it so softly she almost did not notice.

“Arthur?” She croaked, her voice sore and the male nodded slowly.

“Albert, don't suppose you could help me get her up onto the back of my horse there.”

She couldn't hear what the two men spoke about and she startled when this stranger moved her. Unlike Arthur, he was not gentle in his actions and she almost cried out from the pain that shot throughout her body at his harshness. Arthur scolded Albert on it once and while he was more careful in what he was doing, there was no drastic difference.

“You hold on, Nora.” Arthur told her, but the words fell upon deaf ears and she almost fell off the back of his horse when he spurred her into movement.

They rode at a gentle pace and even though they barely moved along the trail she still held on for dear life, fearing that a fall from the horse would injure herself further after all that had gone on.

She wasn't sure how many cuts or bruises she had left from Colm and was afraid to look and see. She was grateful to not be bleeding as much, but hell, did everything hurt.

“What happened to you, Nora?” Arthur demanded to know, the stress obvious in his voice as he nearly shouted

She was too weak to talk at length but she managed to let his name slip in a gasp. “Colm.”

Arthur's eyebrows furrowed when he caught the name and turned quickly to face his original companion. Albert looked just as concerned as Arthur was despite having no idea on the severity of the situation with the O'Driscoll's being involved.

“Mr. Mason!”

“Yes?”

“You head on back to wherever you were stayin', I need to take my friend here back home.. keep an eye on the roads and if any nasty lookin' people jump out, shoot them.”

Albert seemed displeased with the instruction but nodded reluctantly in agreement regardless. He shot Arthur a quick look, the worry apparent in his eyes at the almost lifeless Nora. “Farewell, Mr. Morgan.”

...

Lem paced back and forth in the campgrounds, the mud under him worn down so the ground was no longer level. He didn't listen to anything said by either his own Aunt Maggie or Cripps. No matter how hard they tried to calm him down from his worry he paid them no mind and continued to fear the worse for Nora.Even Marcel who wasn't particularly fond of the Fike boy had spoken with him a couple of times before giving up and passing over a bowl of stew that was left uneaten.

His pacing wore on Maggie's nerves and eventually she aimed her cane just behind him and shot into the tree, splintering the trunk. Lem jumped back, looking at his aunt in dismay.

“What the hell?” He cried out but she only gave him a stern look in warning.

“Pacing isn't going to do anythin', Lem. You're only getting on our nerves.”

Lem was bewildered at the harshness in her tone, choosing to ignore his Aunt and not argue back to her.

He left the camp to sit on an old rock near the roads, wearing a brave face no matter how much he wanted to break down and cry.

Cripps got up to speak with him but Maggie held her cane out to stop him, instead choosing to steer him towards the table to sit down. She slowly lowered herself into the seat opposite and leaned forward to speak quietly that nobody else could pick up on her words.

“If she's dead make sure to ease him into it. Tellin' him bluntly ain't gonna help.”

“She ain't dead, Maggie.” Cripps sighed. “How could you say that?”

“JB she's been gone for days and the only thing any of you found was a gun and a horse, she's unarmed out there and you know what she gets like. You don't know if she's dead or not.”

“And you don't know, Nora. That woman's been caught in an explosion because of your nephew and got out fine.”

Maggie's expression didn't falter; she held that same harsh gaze. “Just don't go giving him false hope.” She left the table soon after and, using her hand, waved for Marcel to come back with her to the moonshine shack.

Even though It was the simplest conversation it left him mad. Cripps got up from the table and ignored his former admirer's warning, approaching Lem as he sat sulking. “She'll be fine.”

The sound of twigs snapping brought Lem and Cripp’s attention and both men turned to look over at the tree line, in time to see one angry face marching towards them.

“Shit.” Lem whispered under his breath as he stood up.

“Hello, Morgan.” He greeted, although rather reluctantly, but she shot him one mean glare and he bit back on his tongue.

“You gonna tell me what happened to Nora?” She bitterly asked, crossing her arms and standing firmly before him. He ignored the question and turned back towards Cripps, pointing a finger towards her.

“This is a friend of Nora's, Morgan Canaday.”

“I'll be leavin' you two to talk.” Cripps said as he began to slowly back away, uninterested in getting involved with this new trouble Lem had been found in.

“So, where's Nora?” Morgan asked again but this time she spoke a lot more slowly.

“We're l-lookin' out for her.”

“Like shit you are, if anyone was really puttin' in the effort then she'd have been found already.” Morgan growled slightly at the eye roll he gave her and leaned forward, intimidating him enough so that he backed away from her.

“Listen, you better pray for your sake that Nora is fine, Fike.” She sneered. Any words Lem had were caught in his throat and he could only manage a small squeak to reply. Morgan nodded slowly but the tough exterior never faltered.

“You know where I'll be if you need anythin', but you make sure she gets home safely, understand?”

“Y-Yes.”

“Good.”

Morgan disappeared amongst the trees again and when she was far enough gone Lem was finally able to let out a long breath. “Fuck.” He mumbled so nobody could hear before returning back to the camp where everyone else waited.

...

The journey was a lot longer than anticipated but it was what should have been expected given the slow pace Arthut travelled at. Eventually, they returned to Shady Belle with Nora still breathing.

“Abigail!” The man called for as he dismounted. Nora swayed back and forth, ready to fall but Arthur reached forward to lift her off of the animal. Abigail came marching around the corner and gasped the minute her eyes set on Nora as he carried her towards the plantation house. , She turned back towards John who had been following and whispered something incoherent that Arthur couldn't hear.

“What the hell happened?” She asked, but Arthur simply shook his head as he didn't know.

“Found her this way, Abigail. Said it was Colm.”

“You're kidding, right?”

“Afraid not.” He sighed. “I had to take her here if the O’Driscolls were involved.”

Abigail nodded and waved Arthur to follow her indoors. John had already set up a bedroll near the fireplace and the piano. Hosea stood waiting for them with Miss Grimshaw, an equal look of worry on both their faces.

“Arthur, you leave the women and come talk with me about what happened, John- take Charles and try and find Nora's posse...tell them she's with us.”

“Yes, Hosea.” Marston left the building and Hosea took Arthur upstairs to talk in private, not wanting to disturb Susan and Abigail.

“Want to tell me what happened?” Hosea jumped straight into the questioning as soon as they entered Arthur's room and he had to raise his hands defensively to show that he wasn't the one in the wrong here.

“I found her out on the track like that- she mentioned Colm and that was all she could say.”

“So Colm's going after Nora now, I mean, he and those bastards go after anyone they can get their hands on but she seems… bad.”

Arthur nodded. “If it was a robbery, she'd be dead.”

“Or lucky. Knowing that girl, she's lucky.”

There was a subtle chuckle that escaped from Arthur's lips but he quickly silenced it out of respect. The door to his room swung open and stood there was Molly O'Shea, her hair dishevelled and barely kept like it usually was. She looked worried and Arthur quickly prepared himself for a long speech about how much she loved Dutch and how he began ignoring her again but instead the Irishwoman gazed up at Mr. Morgan, sharing an equal amount of worry as him.

“Will Nora be okay?” Her concern confused him as Molly had never spoken about Nora before and for her to be talking about someone that wasn't Dutch was surprising. Sure, they had chatted briefly but he figured Molly was too much ‘high society’ for the likes of Nora.

“I don't know, why don't you go downstairs and-”

“And deal with Abigail and Susan?” She cut in. “No thank you, they'll look down on me and shoo me away without hearing what I have to ask.”

“I'll go down and check for you, Miss O'Shea.” Hosea, not wanting to be involved, suggested and she nodded in thanks as he disappeared down the stairs. Molly sharply turned back towards Arthur and he felt an unfamiliar sense of dread wash over him.

“She's a sweet girl, Arthur.” Molly said quietly.

“I weren't aware that you thought so fondly of her, Miss O'Shea.” Molly's jaw fell open in offence at his words but she quickly closed it, biting back an angry remark and his thoughtlessness.

“I think highly of most.” Molly gave him a gentle nod before pushing away from the doorway. He listened closely until he couldn't hear her footsteps anymore and decided that now would be as good as time as any to return back downstairs to check over Nora, see how she was doing. He didn't get too far before Susan placed a cold palm flat against the man's chest, stopping him dead in his tracks.

“I just wanted to see how she is doing, Miss Grimshaw.” He said.

“She's fine, but you can't come in here.. none of you men can if I can help it.”

“How bad was she?”

Grimshaw let out a low sigh as she waved Mary-Beth over, silently telling her to tend to Nora while she conversed with the man. “It's similar to how you were.”

“When?”

“When Colm sent his men after you, too.” She finished. Arthur let out a hiss and the memory, even though he didn't like to dwell back on it.

“She'll live right?”

“Always with the question. I don't know if she'll survive, Morgan. Ain't nothing infected but… time will tell. Us folk ain't lucky.”

“Keep her alive, Susan.” He warned, exiting the old house through the back door so he wouldn't have to cut through the same room where Nora rested. Susan's lips pressed into a thin line and she shook her head gently before returning to Nora's care.

...

“And Lem?” Arthur knew she would ask about him soon enough. Other than saying she felt significantly better it was practically the first thing she had said; she loved that man.

“What about him?”

Nora slowly pushed herself up, groaning as pain flaredin her sides. She grabbed it gently, thinking the pressure would help ease the ache, but there was only so much a hang could do.

“Do you know where he is? Or how he is?”

“I don't know. As soon as I found you I took you here.”

Nora nodded gently. “I gotta go back, see him.” She tried to stand but barely made it off the floor.

“You’ve gotta rest some more, Nora.” He said kindly but she knew it was more of a command. She pouted slightly but wasn't feeling stubborn enough to argue further, reluctantly agreeing with Arthur who chuckled lowly at her.

“Charles and Marston have been sent out to look for your group. I'm sure Lem will come back with them.”

“He's definitely going too.”

“I'll leave you to get some rest, Miss. Take care.” Nora looked up at Arthur with a gentle smile as she watched him walk out of the room. From beyond the window she noticed how he talked with someone, whispering in their ear and pointing back towards her.

...

“Where is she?”

Molly was surprised to see Lem and she gently pointed over towards the house where Nora rested, knowing it could only be her that drew him to Shady Belle. He nodded curtly and hurried inside the derelict building.

He didn't need to go far. She was right by the fire with her back towards him. Nora didn't notice the door opening, her focus solely on the flickering flames in front of her.

“How are you feeling?” At the sound she jumped. She turned around quickly with wide eyes, surprised and yet happy to finally see him again after so long.

“I'm just happy to see you again, Fike.” She chuckled.

“I'm happy to see you again, too.” He sank down to the floor with her, sitting just a few feet away. “God I was w-worried about you.”

Nora let out a quiet sigh, averting her gaze over towards the wall so he couldn't see her cry. He heard the sobs regardless and shuffled closer, placing a palm on her shoulder. She still didn't look over at him but could feel Lem's gaze burning into her.

“I really should have listened to you, Lem.”

“You had no idea what was g-gonna happen.” He squeezed her shoulder gently. “I don't care about that. I'm just happy you're alive.”

“You're too good to me.”

He shrugged. “You saved me.”

She finally looked over and when their eyes met she offered him a kind smile. He leaned forward and gave her a small kiss on the cheek, a gentle peck and it was over no sooner than it started but Nora still flushed a bright red after it, flustered by the kind action. She often found herself unsure of what to say after any show of affection but this time she managed to splutter a small “thank you.”

#rdr2 #red dead 2 #rdo #red dead online #rdr2 fanfic #lem fike #lemuel fike #arthur morgan #lem fike x oc #original female characters #original characters #molly o'shea #hosea matthews #susan grimshaw #mary beth gaskill #abigail marston #I love Lem and Nora sm

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pxppinmolly-archived · 3 years ago

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@hcppyhotel spun:

“i woke up in my own bed. that’s always something.” / from angel !

Young Royals

“Oh! I’ll put a ‘1′ on tha’ ‘How Many Days Angel Has Woke Up At Home’ on tha’ board for you!” Molly would sarcastically respond, holding no real venom in her voice.

No, she wasn’t angry ... Just concerned. She was always fretting.

“And I didn’t even have ta’ drag ya’ inta’ bed, eitha’! We’re on a real roll, ain’t we?” She continued with the sarcasm ... Yet, she couldn’t help but smile.

She can’t ever try and not smile with him, can’t she? Can’t ever stay mad, never upset ... Just looking at him made her happy. She was just ... Happy to have him. To be here ... Together.

“Next time ya’ go out, though ... You betta’ invite me! I ain’t do nothin’ anymore, Ange! I’m fuckin’ wastin’ away here ... You goin’ out ta’ these cool parties and all’a that, I feel like tha’ lame olda’ siblin’ now. Can’t believe my younga’ brotha’ is more cool than I am ...”

#Sugar Spun (Asks)#hcppyhotel #Blowing Bubbles (IC)#Death Is The After Party (Main Verse)#hi hari .. i love u. :pleading:#also i love them im sobbing ;;;#THIS WENT A WHOLE 180 THAN I EXPCTED but im happy. <3

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themysteriousauthor18 · 4 years ago

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Childhood friends PT. 2

This is no longer a oneshot---

Artist of picture above:

"So ya not allowed to go to da school?"

"Nah. Pa says it doesn't help and gets in the way of my trainin'." The blonde grumbled. He stared up at the blue sky, the clouds moving by ever so slowly and the summer heat being a little too much for blonde. He wiped some sweat from his forehead before placing his hands back on his stomach.

It seemed after four years the 13-year-old still wasn't able to handle the harsh heat that New Orleans brought.

Beside him, the brunette clicked his tongue in disapproval. "Dats just dum. Dey goin' makes you dumb." The blonde laughed.

"That's what I said!" He yelled into the open clearing. He smiled sadly at the sky, his green eyes becoming glossy. "Right before pa hit me a bunch." The brunette looked at him concerned his lips dropping into a frown.

"Anthony..dat don't sound gud." The pre-teen shook his head, moving his hands off his stomach and sitting up. He groaned a little in doing so.

"It's fine. If it means ma' ain't gotta take them, then I'm happy to instead." The brunette sat up now too turning to look at the pale blonde. Anthony brought his knees to his chest and looked over to the boy beside him.

It was as if the world blessed his looks, with how the sun made his light brown skin shimmer in the summer heat. The sharp beige vest he had 'been forced into' again according to him, only made him look more handsome. Even the strands of brown hair that stuck out in an odd direction couldn't compare to his looks.

He wasn't sure if it was the hormones setting in with turning 13 but lately, he had found himself looking at Edward (Alastor) more often than not. Since he'd turn 12 he had begun finding the boy more handsome than someone his age and gender should.

He still cringed at his comment he made the day they met. 'Well, I like you.' His nine-year-old self had said. Of course, he hadn't meant it in that context but he didn't really know better.

"Anthony ya starin'." The brunette reminded like he had done so many other times. He never got mad at him for it, just calmly reminded him of the action.

His pale cheeks flushed a light pink in what he blamed on embarrassment. "Sorry." He muttered looking away.

"It's fain." He heard him say in his thick accent. It was strange, sometimes he caught the brunette trying to suppress it but never knew why. In recent years it seemed more common. Sometimes his accent would come at full volume other times it would sound restrained.

He never explained why, and whenever he pointed it out he would get the usual response. "What are ya tawking about?" And that would be the end of it.

Suddenly he heard the grass rustle beside him and as he looked he saw Edward getting to his feet. Anthony did as well when the older male began to walk away. "Wait Edward were ya goin!" The brunette paused, the sky had seemed to get darker all of a sudden. As if the sun had gone and hid away.

Now instead a shadow cast over the large clearing and a cold wind blew past them. It rarely ever got cold here.

He paused, looking at the pale boy. "I have to go now, Anthony. I'm sorry." He sounded sad but his expression didn't dwindle from its neutral state. The wind seemed to pick up with the end of his sentence.

Anthony bolted towards him once he'd turned around and lunged for his arm grabbing it tightly. "Ed please don't go! Please! I-I don't want you to not yet!" Not ever.

A shadow cast over the brunette's eyes now and to Anthony's horror, the world around them began to blur with the darkness slowly consuming it and the wind is almost too much to bear.

He looked over his shoulder at the pleading pre-teen and frowned. His warm brown eyes held a darker look to them similar to a dead person's eyes when the life had left them. His lips parted and as he spoke the wind froze in its tracks, all sound stopped and all he could hear was his voice.

"I'm already gone, Anthony. Wake up."

Angel gasped for air as he suddenly found himself awake..were, where was he? Were was Edward.

The hard pulsing of his heart in his chest brought him to realize he was truly awake now. That he had just had a nightmare..or rather, a memory altered into a nightmare.

He stared up into the darkness, the loud thumping of his heart in his ears slowly fading out. And the soft ticking of his clock fading in.

He sighed sitting up in his head as he brought a hand to wipe the sweat from his forehead. He felt cold and that was likely due to the chill that ran through his apartment during the colder months. October was no exception.

His tank top and boxers were also drenched in the cold sweat he himself was covered in. His eyes lazily looked around the darkness of his small room.

His heavy eyes looked over to his side table and at the illuminated green lights of his clock. He grabbed it, squinting at the numbers the sleep still in his eyes.

6am

He groaned, putting the clock back down with a light slam. A sigh followed as he threw the covers back and swung his legs over onto the wooden floors. A chill ran through him, the floors were ice cold per usual.

There was no way he would be getting back to sleep tonight, despite how tired he felt.

That early morning started as all his usual days did. With some kind of joint.

Once he'd moved away and to New York, turning to drugs was all too easy. With his mother passing soon after their move there and the lack of one of his main friends there was nobody to stop him. Cherri hadn't come into the picture until a few months later and she wasn't exactly a sadist against drugs.

Surprisingly working under his father in the mafia didn't pay all that well, well for him at least. That led him to live in this rather run-down apartment. He was lucky enough to have Cherri as a roommate, without her he probably wouldn't even be here.

As he sat down on the edge of his bed, lighting the joint it glowed a soft orange in the darkness.

Sometimes he wondered if the low amount of cash he was paid was because his father was purposely trying to keep him from traveling to New Orleans, or just because he hated him

"Probably both." Angel mused quietly to himself.

Shortly after his mom died he had met Cherri and one day she'd given him the nickname of 'Angel'. He liked it, so he started going by that. He didn't want to be Anthony anymore...that person was gone. That person was left back in New Orleans with the charming childhood friend of his and his sweet mother.

No, Angel didn't care about life anymore and was just spending each day trying to numb the pain.

Molly and Arackniss supported him with the new name. Molly not questioning it while Arackniss seemingly not caring. His father didn't care at all and continued to call him by his birth name whether he liked it or not.

No surprise there.

He took a long hit of the joint allowing the drug to fill his lungs, enjoying the tingling sensation that it brought as it ran through his veins. He held it in for a moment before slowly allowing the smoke to escape his mouth and into the darkened room.

Cherri to his surprise was also in the mafia. But her father was a lot nicer and unlike his own, the guy let her do what she pleased. He even let her help out sometimes although not very often. So each day they spent doing whatever they pleased.

Or to put it more realistically, did whatever they pleased until Angel got the call from his father or Arackniss to get his ass to work.

He wasn't always needed, he was just another one of the men in his father's organization. And he liked it that way.

He took another hit, laying back against the wall behind him. He closed his eyes, holding the smoke for a moment before letting it out again.

Sometimes he couldn't help but wonder what Edward was up to these days. If the brunette remembered him, cared to remember him? If he missed him as the blonde did him.

But oftentimes his mind would be cruel and serve the more darker thoughts.

With how handsome he was, he was probably already with someone. A girl most likely considering he never showed signs of being anything besides that.

She was probably beautiful. And he was probably happy and forgot that he'd even existed.

Probably

His mind reminded.

Before his mind could go any further on this thought train the sound of a door opening from outside his room drew his eyes open. Truthfully he was thankful for the sudden distraction.

He got up from his bed, cringing as it squeaked loudly from the shitty mattress. If Cherri didn't know he was awake before, she certainly did now.

Joint resting between his lips he opened his bedroom door.

As stated earlier, the apartment was a bit run down and in no means luxurious. Due to this, they had no living room. Instead, the kitchen lay right outside Angel's small room, the door across from that was Cherri's room with the door next to that being their shared bathroom.

She had a TV in her room and they'd often have movie nights or just watch TV when they didn't want to go out.

As he guessed Cherri was standing outside of her bedroom door rubbing her eyes. Sweats and a tank-top, her usual nightclothes. Her blonde hair was down and disheveled like Angel's.

Angel leaned in his doorway leaning his hip against the frame as he took the blunt in between his fingers. He watched his roommate yawn before noticing his presence.

"Oh, mornin' Angie." Another nickname she had for him, one he didn't mind either. He laughed.

"Ya couldn't sleep either huh?" She was already going over to the gas stove to put the kettle on for coffee.

"Bitch your loud ass was snoring again." She complained. Angel walked over to her now preferring to lean against the counter beside the stove. He clicked his tongue as she filled the kettle with water and put it on to boil.

"I don't fucking snore." She smirked as she snatched the cig from his fingers. He glared at her but she ignored it, taking a hit from the now shorter joint.

"You have a nightmare again?" She asked taking a seat at their tiny square table that only held to chairs. He remained leaning against the counter, the frown playing on his lips had been enough of an answer to her question.

She sighed the smoke flowing into the air once again. "Hey! I heard Pentious was workin' on some new shit for October! How about we go and check 'em out today?" Angel smiled lightly giving a half-hearted laugh.

"Yeah, sure that sounds like fun. Go and bug that man of yours." She stuck her tongue out at Angel.

"Bout time you get one for yourself." She stood flicking the finished joint into the wet sink. Angel took her seat down at the table leaning on the wall behind him. Cherri gave him a look for taking her seat but he just stuck up a finger at her and she returned the gesture with a smile. "I'm fine on my own. 'Sides it ain't hard to get laid in this town."

Cherri smacked her lips as she turned off the kettle reading the coffee. "You know I'm not talking about that." Angel remained quiet, wishing he had another joint to burn or something.

"I ain't awake enough for this shit Cherri." Angel finally responded, his voice less than sweet. His tone was enough of a warning to drop the subject.

This wasn't the first time it was brought up and he knew it wouldn't be the last.

Cherri shrugged, picking up the two mugs and setting Angel's down in front of him before taking the seat across from him.

The blonde male looked at the window in front of the sink. The sun had yet to come up. He chewed on his bottom lip closing his eyes for a moment.

"Ed. What are you doin' here! If my dad finds you he might skin ya alive." The teen whispered in the darkroom, sitting upon his bed.

The young brunette climbed through the window setting his feet down on the floor. He smiled brightly at the still groggy blonde.

"I dought it be cool ta see da sunrise with ya. Before I gotta go ta school today." The younger male found himself smiling.

"Fine..just, warn me next time."

The two laughed quietly, watching through the window as the sun slowly began to rise from the horizon.

Angel turned his eyes away from the window, the sky beginning to become lighter. He wrapped his hands around the mug and lightly sipped his coffee, welcoming its warmth.

(I'm betta off alone.)

#radiodust #au #fanfiction #alastor #angel dust #shipping #hazbin hotel

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naturaldisasterfanfiction · 4 years ago

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12. Part 3

Pacing the length of my basketball court as I smoked my blunt, I mean I can’t of course smoke inside the home because Robyn is pregnant and also asleep still, I mean was she that tired. I can’t judge actually, the baby is probably taking it out of her but damn, she is snoring a lot and I found it funny. I was going to record her but that is rude, I can’t do that. I am happy, I am so happy to be here with Robyn, to have Robyn in my home is the biggest blessing. I love that woman to death, she doesn’t understand how much of a blessing she is to me because right now I would be probably with the niggas just smoking and talking shit, so right now I am facing reality and the reality is, I need to start living good, and being good. I know Robyn said for me to come to London, come with her but I have a lot of things to sort out here so I will just stay behind and sort some things out. I will actually attempt to go to London and probably ask Nia if I can take Royalty on a daddy and daughter holiday, just for the weekend. I will probably miss out on the baby shower because I feel like there is a lot of shit going on in that family, I don’t want to be there, but I am content with what I did so I am good. Putting my blunt out as I left my court, I was going to put it on the ground, but it will be me picking it up later. Making my way back inside the home “she like the way that I rock, she like the way that I woo” I sang to myself while bopping my head, I wonder if Robyn is awake “wow, finally” I said laughing at her, smiling from ear to ear, she looks so confused “why did you let me sleep?” she grumbled, oh she is miserable about it “because you was tired, I will be back” I need to throw this blunt in the trash, she is funny.

Sitting down on the couch with my cup, placing the cup between my legs “you look so moody, you slept and snored. Man, I ain’t ever hear you snore like that before” Robyn placed her hand over her face in shame “please don’t, oh my god. Mel said the same thing, it’s the baby. I don’t know, how shameful” Robyn looks ashamed “don’t be, it’s cool. You were cute, you well rested though. How you going to sleep tonight? It’s late now, let me feed you dinner” looking at my watch “I am supposed to be leaving for London in the morning” Robyn grunted placing the covers at the side of me “I can drop you off in the morning, I don’t mind” Robyn laughed “my breath is hot, damn. Can I have water, or whatever that is” looking down at my cup “oh you don’t want that, I can get you water” getting up “why, what is that?” I wish she didn’t “just a drink, it will give you gas” I lied as I walked off, sipping some of the lean “well I don’t want that, then why are you having it. Chris that better not be lean” opening the fridge “no it’s not” drinking some more and placed it in the fridge “it’s for my stomach. I have a bad system” grabbing the bottle of water for Robyn “you want me to open it for you?” opening the bottle for her anyways “ouch” I hit into the couch “here” passing the water bottle to her “thank you” throwing the bottle cap in the air and then catching it “no more hot breath now, so what you think? I have my home to myself, let me feed you” laying down on my couch and looking up at the ceiling “I need to pee” I like this feeling “you want me to help you” I said, I just said it but then laughed “shut up” laughing to myself.

Getting up from the couch “Robyn?” did she leave, I fell asleep “Robyn?” I said again getting up from the couch “here, I just went to pee” letting out an oh, I must have fell asleep for like a minute “cool, I just got worried that you left” she shook her head “would you lie to me?” she asked “no why? It’s you I wouldn’t” she knows that “then if I ask you something one more time you will just tell me the truth?” nodding my head “did you have lean?” I sighed out “it was just a little, calms my nerves. It helps me, like I ain’t doing no hardcore drugs, just a little lean. Calms my nerves, also my brain from being a hyperactive mess, it’s good” Robyn placed her hand on my chest “no, I say no. That is not it Chris, you are self-medicating that is not it. You said no drugs, you said it. Weed ok but not that fucking shit Chris!” Robyn shouted “I don’t want it Chris, any of that. Why would you do that, right in front of my face too. You want me to be here, be like we were in twenty twelve. We were a fucking mess Chris, what the fuck!” licking my lips putting my head down “it was just something little, like it wasn’t something big, I just need it sometimes” I have annoyed Robyn now “need or want?” pick it wisely, I sighed out “want” I mean I hope that is the better of them “then I want you to throw that shit away, what other shit you have in here. You are so fucking lucky I am not walking out of this bitch!” she spat “just that” I said, I lied because I have Molly and Percs in the home but it’s locked away and it’s not for me personally but it’s there, I don’t want her to walk out “listen to me Chris, you don’t need it. You want to slow your mind down for what? Stop your mind racing? If so, why? What is it racing for?” she asked “I have a lot of shit to do Robyn, I got to deal with it. I have to be there for you” I do need to be there for her “and I am here! I am here Chris; I am not going anywhere at all. You don’t need to rush shit, no drugs please” I guess I am in Robyn’ bad books now, I have ruined it.

Robyn watched me throw the shit away, she watched me do it to all three bottles I had left “I can’t babysit you Chris, do not get comfy thinking I won’t cut this off and I don’t want that, we are getting to a point where I want to tell that baby is not fatherless and you did this right in front on my face? Am I a fucking joke to you Chris, maybe everyone allows this, but I don’t, I am angry at you if you don’t fucking see it on my face!” I rather not see her face but it wasn’t that serious, I had some lean because my mind is on overdrive, I needed to calm it down but she is just there barking at me “I am going Chris” turning the tap on to watch the purple syrup go down the drain, I so feel bad but it was so harmless. Sometimes I need this shit to calm me down, but she doesn’t understand it, oh wait Robyn said she is going. Turning the tap off and grabbing the towel from the side “Robyn, shawty!” I ran around the counter “hey, please don’t go. Like listen to me, I didn’t mean to upset you. I swear I didn’t. Someone like me doesn’t change overnight but I never meant to upset you” Robyn glared at me, she is mad at me “but then you decided to have more? Why Chris, I am rooting for you. I am here for you and you did that in front of us, yes us. Me and our daughter, you know what just don’t. I am going, thanks for this but you know what, you may be fucking right to cry, if this is what you are doing. You wonder why you get upset when reality hits because you are doing this!” she shouted “you’re going to lose us” Robyn’ voice broke “I am riding on you to prove to people that I am right, that you are not the man they think but you are just showing that they are right and I look like the clown Chris, I do! For believing in you, you had to ruin today” she grabbed her jacket “please don’t go” holding onto her jacket also “why should I stay? I came to be here for you! Mentally here for you but instead you’re stressing me out” letting her jacket go, I don’t want to stress her out.

I am not sure what Robyn is thinking, she hasn’t called anyone yet “is this why Mijo gave up?” Robyn asked, I shrugged “I suppose but I meant no harm about it, I stopped whippets, and this just slows my mind down, don’t you get it. If it upsets you then I will stop” Robyn shook her head “no, you got to stop this. You change for your kids not me!” she spat “why when I love you Robyn, I have always loved you. It’s you that drives me crazy” Robyn looks deflated “and this is why I left you the second time” a sob left her lips “I was the cause of it, me. I am the issue with you, it’s me that doesn’t help you. I think I am helping, but I am not, you’re right I am driving you crazy, but I don’t want that. I felt helpless with you, so I had to walk away from you, I don’t help you. The love we hold is no good for each other Chris, I just don’t know what to do. I am bad for you” Robyn turned away from me, she is crying but I didn’t want that “please don’t cry Robyn, I never wanted that for you” I didn’t want any of this, I should have had it when she went but I got comfortable “I put my guard down and this happens, I am just no help for you Chris” walking around her “you are though! You gave me purpose, I want to change for you, I really do” Robyn shook her head “I drive you crazy, crazy to a point you feel your mind racing. You want, and want, and want and you know I am not yours and that alone makes you crazy, am I wrong?” shaking my head “I have to be with you to make sure you’re ok and that is bad Chris, how can I know you are ok when I am not here. I can’t look after you” looking at Robyn in sadness, Robyn grabbed my hand “you feel that? Feel it!” she spat; she placed my hand over her stomach “this is you stressing us out!” yanking my hand back after feeling the slight flutter against my hand.

Next time I will have to keep it to myself or better yet just not do it but I don’t want to lose Robyn, I don’t do whippets anymore, I just wanted to have something to calm my nerves but clearly I did wrong, I just didn’t like to think I am stressing my baby out, and Robyn also “so where do we go from here? I just don’t see it now, you can’t handle yourself, clearly fucking not. You just love going back, I don’t get it. You’re programmed to just do dumb shit, I am not even fighting to have you. I don’t even want you, I want my fucking daughter to have a father, I don’t want you Chris and the reason I don’t is because I can’t deal with your shit when I am so far ahead of you, I am at a different pace in life where you are still stuck in your twenties. You half assed change, you literally fucking did that to me, so where do we go from here? I am going now, you can chase me all you want because I will become very out of reach from you Chris, I fucking told you this” Robyn stared at me, she is very angry “speak!” she shouted “I am thinking” I am actually in a daze but hey, I can’t say that right now “I want you” Robyn groaned out “I am not going to be here Chris, I think we need to just stop it here. I don’t have the energy for this, I can’t chase you and do this every time. It’s not happening, you’re not even with me Chris, listen to me. Hear this, this ends here. I don’t want anything to do with you, I told you and I was not fucking playing” watching Robyn get her phone out “no please, listen to me. It’s not easy as it seems, ok I have that sometimes, but I have honestly changed with you, please. Just don’t go, I have changed, and you know it. I am trying, I admit” holding my hands up “it’s not easy for me, I can’t just turn it off like that. I was just not thinking, and I had it. You know me Robyn, don’t turn your back on me. I know you can just up and leave me and you have done it before, don’t do it to me because I will track you down, I did before and I will do it again and not stop, just don’t do that” Robyn dropped her phone on the counter top sighing out “I hate you” she mumbled “I hate me too” I guess we have no choice.

“I wish you just be real with me; I know it ain’t easy to stop something just like that. Why fake it, tell me. Say it to me, say Robyn I am finding it hard on this day, I did have this, but this is why, but I am trying. You are being sly with shit, that don’t run with me. I told you Chris, I do it my way with or without you. I am being fair to you, I am trying my best here to help you” I am shocked Robyn hasn’t left to be honest “you’re going to be not here though” she really isn’t “do you want me to wipe your ass? I am not your mother, I said support, not be here to physically to do shit for you. This is so fucking hard for me, for us! We are no good together, fuck!” Robyn spat “you are on a different wave to me, the wave you are on is wanting me, it’s me you want but it should be about the baby. Your kids but it isn’t. We are going to do this all night aren’t we? Until you can accept the kids come first, stop seeing me as a goal” I shook my head “so you are staying?” I asked, seems like it “before I leave, if I can try and make you see sense, then I am here but right now I just need some air. I am hot right now; I need to calm down. This is new to me; I need to remember and back off” Robyn walked off, we need some food here so I better order something.

#Chrianna #Chrianna FF #Chrianna Fanfiction #Fanfic #Fanfiction

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years ago

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A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 55)

Choke

Reader has a word with Dutch. Couple of warnings for this one: one use of a racial slur, and some violence.

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

Dutch seemed pleased when he returned from Saint Denis with Sadie, rolling in on a wagon dressed up like a lawman. I was stunned to see Sadie in a fancy, floofy dress and a big hat, though it was spattered with blood. They climbed down and Sadie immediately strutted off to get changed, her face twisted with a lingering vengeful look, as Dutch spread his arms wide and puffed himself up to get everyone's attention.

"It's done. Colm O'Driscoll is dead and gone. This is it, people, this is our first real step towards freedom, we just struck one huge thing off the list," he called out, strolling leisurely through the camp towards his tent. "We just gotta make one big bang and then we're gone."

I watched him from my spot on Arthur's bed, hearing Micah's deviant, low titter of a laugh.

"What'd I tell you, boss? This ain't nothing we can't get away from, with our strongest boys we'll be on our way," he said, swinging back on a chair with his feet propped up on the table.

"I can taste it, Mr. Bell. Ain't it a beautiful thing?" Dutch responded, then slipped away into the privacy of his tent. Micah glanced at me then, catching my eye for a moment, mouth curling into a smile. I rose to my feet and made my way over to the back of the women's wagon where Sadie was just finishing getting changed, smoothing out her shirt where it was tucked into her pants.

"Hey Sadie, how'd it go?" I asked.

"It got bloody. But Colm's dead, and whatever lackeys he brought with him, they're dead too," she told me bluntly. "Finally. I've been waiting for the day that those bastards paid for what they did to my husband."

"Good. I hope it hurt," I said quietly, looking towards the ground at the mention of her husband. I never knew how to act.

"You should've seen the look on his face when he realised he weren't getting away, pretty sure he shit himself before they pulled the lever," she gave a mean, scratchy laugh and I had to smile at her getting to see some justice finally delivered. "Bastard deserves everything he gets, what he did to me."

"Couldn't agree more. And I'm glad he's gone, maybe now we'll have some damn breathing space," I sighed.

"Maybe. But I got a word of warning for ya', Dutch got a little pissed off when we was in the bar before we watched Colm swing," she began, picking up her gun belt and buckling it around her waist, retrieving her pistol and sitting down to clean it, "Arthur said some things and Dutch weren't happy."

I frowned and sat down next to her. "What was said, exactly?"

"Arthur asked what the grand plan was, and when he didn't exactly jump for joy at Dutch's answer, his loyalty was called into question. I tried to step in and tell them to buck up, but they butted heads. Well, as much as Arthur'd dare to butt heads with Dutch, said just 'cause he's thinking about the others, don't mean he's disloyal to him. Dutch weren't having it though," Sadie explained, digging her nail into the nooks and crannies of her gun with the cloth. "He weren't particularly kind to Arthur."

I narrowed my eyes, my jaw clenching.

"Dutch said apparently he knows that you and him are talking 'bout leaving," she met my eyes at that, and my chest squeezed uncomfortably. "Arthur looked like he was about to throw up. In the end he just dropped it, and we had to go to the gallows anyway and nothin' more was said about it."

"And where's Arthur now?"

"Ain't sure. We split up and went separate ways after the chaos, I imagine he'll be back later," she told me, and I nodded, rising to my feet.

"Excuse me," I said, and turned to leave.

I was half way towards Dutch's tent when I realised I'd left my cane behind, I didn't stop though. I very nearly ripped back the canvas and barged in, but the possibility that he could be undressed in there halted me, and instead I stopped just shy of the tent and took a breath.

"Dutch? May I come in?" I called out once I'd gathered myself. There was a pause, then movement, and the canvas peeled back. Dutch looked a little confused, of course, I'd never really gone out of my way to speak to him in all the months I'd been around. "I'd like to speak with you."

"Of course," he said, his tone jumping up with a politeness that unnerved me.

He stepped aside and let me enter. I'd never really been inside his tent. They were far more luxurious lodgings than the rest of the camp had, that was for sure, with animal furs on the floor and everything. Dutch gestured for me to take a seat on the bed, and he stood before me with his arms crossed. I sat up straight, my hands clasped in my lap.

"I want Arthur to leave with me," I said, coming right out with it. "He knows this, and I ain't gonna try and hide it from anyone."

"Is that so?" His brows jumped up. I kept my eyes focused steadily on his.

"Yes."

"And why exactly are you telling me this, may I ask?"

"I wanna make it clear that it's me that wants it, it's me who's asking Arthur to come away with me. And Arthur is… he cares a lot about this gang. He ain't going anywhere," I explained to him, my voice as strong as I could manage despite the fact I was so nervous my hands shook.

"Well, my dear, if you don't wanna be in this gang anymore, you know where the figurative door is. Nobody's stopping you," he cocked a brow, crossing his arms.

"It ain't that. It's not that I want to leave the gang. I just– I want Arthur to be safe. And I want to be with him, where we can try and be free from all those people that're after him," I clarified, shaking my head, "but he ain't prepared to leave all of you, he's known you longer and I ain't gonna force him to choose between us. So I'm staying."

"I still don't know why this has anything to do with me. It sounds like you and Arthur have discussed this at length just between the two of you and have come to a compromise, what do you expect me to do with this information, Miss?" His face was hard but his tone was easy and polite. He had a way of doing that…

"Because I believe you might begin to question Arthur. You heard him the night of my injuries, he mentioned us leaving, but I know for sure he was only saying that in the moment. He didn't really mean it, and I know this because I called him out and asked him to stick to his words. He couldn't," in a way I felt guilty for painting Arthur out as being against leaving with me. It wasn't entirely true, but Dutch needed to hear it. "I just have to tell you this, the truth, so that Arthur ain't punished for my sake," I added.

"You think I'd punish him for wanting to leave?"

"Yes, actually, I do. I think you'd resent him, after all you've done for him," I admitted, attempting to stroke his ego just a bit; I thought it'd help my case, "and I ain't here to tell you whether you should or shouldn't be mad at something like that. I'm here to tell you that Arthur ain't thinking like you think he is. Lord knows I wish he was, but I ain't that lucky."

"But my guess is you're gonna keep on working on him, try and get him to see sense?" He tilted his head, his brow cocking again.

I lifted my shoulders lightly. "I will keep on telling him what I want and hope that someday he'll want it too."

"Well, I'm sorry, Miss, but from where I'm standing, if what you're telling me is true, maybe Arthur ain't all that committed to you. Is it in your best interests to put yourself in the firing line for a man who won't commit to you, one-hundred percent?" He proposed, his head tilting down, eyes peering up through his lashes, partially obscured by the brim of the hat he wore. "Maybe you should… cut your losses and get out of here before it's too late for you, all these Pinkertons about. You've already been injured. Perhaps you gotta start thinking about what's best for you."

"Like Molly did?" I don't know why I said it. I don't know what possessed me, but it gave Dutch pause, his expression flinching to mild surprise before being concealed behind indifference.

"Yes, like Molly did," he responded after some time, voice low and level. "You should know that a leopard don't change its spots, no matter how pretty a lady comes along. This wouldn't be the first time Arthur's chosen the gang over a woman, you likely won't be an exception, and I just don't wanna see a sweet thing like you get hurt," the treacle in his tone made me nauseous, but I forced a smile.

"I appreciate the concern. But I'm not going anywhere, Arthur might not be leaving the gang for me but I'll wait for him, even if that means I'm waiting the rest of our lives," I told him. "Because I love him, and I don't care where we are as long as we're together."

"Oh, that's sweet. I usually like a little naivety in a girl, though it does so often border on wilful ignorance," he said.

"So I'm ignorant?"

"I never said that," he shook his head innocently, brows curving up, "but perhaps you're beatin' a dead horse, so to speak."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you're in love with him… and he loves you, I ain't got much doubt about that. I know just what a fool that man can be when he's taken by a woman, after all I was there when he was getting pulled in two directions by Mrs. Linton. He loved Mary, too. But Arthur never could leave this gang then, just like he can't now," he said to me, eyes boring into me, I'd been staring at his face so long in the muted light of the tent that his face seemed to start to warp and twist into something ugly and unsettling.

"So you really think I should leave and not look back because Arthur ain't never gonna come away with me?" I kept my expression neutral and my tone flat, trying not to give away anything about how I was feeling.

"I think that might serve you better in the long run, but that's just my advice. Take it or leave it."

"And you'd tell me that, even after you said yourself that you don't doubt Arthur loves me, you'd hurt him like that?"

"It wouldn't be me doing the hurting, my dear, I ain't got nothing to do with yours and his relationship, this is all up to you," he chuckled, shaking his head. "You came in here wanting to speak to me, and I just gave my advice."

"Well, wanting to speak with you and asking for your advice are two different things. I just came in here to tell you not to treat Arthur like dirt because of me."

"Hm, right you are. Well, unsolicited as it may be, my advice was given. You've worked hard for this gang, it'd be a real shame for you to throw your life away, risk it because of a romance that you can find with any old feller, ones that don't have to run away from anything for you. I love Arthur, I do, but the man is the furthest thing from a good suitor," he laughed and shook his head.

I was quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in. Then I took a breath and rose to my feet.

"Well, thank you for your time."

"My pleasure, why I do believe this is the first real conversation you and I have ever had. If you choose to stick around, I'd be remiss if we didn't do this more often," he chuckled, his overly proper and friendly manner wearing thin.

"I'll leave you to whatever you were doing, take care, now," I nodded to him before letting myself out of the tent, taking a cooling breath once I was out in the open again and away from his suffocating presence. There was something about Dutch that made it hard to relax and breathe, he dominated any space just by existing, took up too much room. I didn't like it at all.

"Workin' on Dutch, now, are we? You like the fellers, don't you?" Micah sniggered from his spot at the table by Dutch's tent.

"Leave her alone, Micah," Javier sighed from a ways behind him, taking a drink of water from one of our drinking barrels. I stopped dead and levelled my gaze to Micah.

"What? She's already screwing one of 'em, and she's getting mighty close to the likes of Marston and that darkie, always fluttering her lashes at the lot of them," he continued anyway, and I felt Javier looking at me. "Dutch even got a glimpse at Shady Belle. Remember that, sweetheart? Yeah, he told me about that."

I walked towards him, sitting down on the chair opposite. I kept my eyes so focused on his, to the point that he started looking uncomfortable. He glanced away for a second, then back at me. He almost looked confused.

"Keep going. Tell me more about myself, what else I been doing?" I asked.

Micah's mouth hung open just so, his brow furrowed a bit.

"So, I'm fucking Arthur," I counted it off on my finger, "flirting with John and– I'm sorry, who else was it?"

"Charles, I think he meant," Javier answered for him.

"Charles. Course, you didn't use his name. Anyway, Dutch saw me at Shady Belle, sure, but what was I doing?"

"You were prancing around on top of Morgan like a whore," Micah spat venomously.

"Like a whore? So, I looked experienced, at least. That's flattering," I nodded, and Javier snorted. "What else then?"

Micah hesitated.

"Sneaking into Dutch's tent," Javier added, and I glanced up to see him grinning, enjoying whatever I was doing… I wasn't really sure what that was but it was happening with a flurry of adrenaline and the urge to wind Micah up.

"Oh yeah, trying my luck with him," I nodded, "thank you, Mr. Escuella, Mr. Bell seems to have forgotten his tongue."

"Then there was you being a little cock tease with me," Micah finally said, attempting to flip it to his gain.

"Cock tease? But according to you I'm dishing it out left and right, I ain't one for teasing," I frowned comically. "Why'd it be any different with you Mr. Bell? Surely I should be throwing myself at you like I do with everyone else."

I raised my brows at him expectantly but he kept his mouth shut.

"No, it's 'cause that was all in your head. Truth is I wouldn't touch you with a barge-pole if your limp dick was the last damn thing on Earth and my life depended on sucking it for sustenance, you're disgusting," I hissed through gritted teeth, letting a fair amount of pent up anger out at him as I rose to my feet and leaned over the table towards him. I heard Javier choke at my foul language.

The next thing I knew, my hair was being yanked; Micah's hand wrapped around the braid that hung forwards as I leaned, dragging me down to his level. I cried out in shock and pain.

"Someone ought to teach you some goddamn manners you nasty little girl," he growled, his face far closer than I ever wanted it. A surge of adrenaline sent my hand up to his neck where I grappled and squeezed whatever I could get purchase on, doing whatever came naturally to get him to let go of me.

"Don't you ever fucking touch me!" I screamed, wrenching my head back out of his loosened grip, shoving him back into his chair by his throat.

"Woah, woah! Jesus Christ!" Javier was there, a hand on my shoulder, shoving me back, one on Micah's, keeping him in his chair as he choked and rubbed at his neck.

"Fucking psycho!" Micah's hoarse yell was my only evidence I hadn't done any real damage.

"You listening, shit head? You fucking touch me again and I won't let go next time," I spat, whirling around to storm off, slamming straight into someone coming up behind me. I stepped back and looked up to see Arthur's panicked, wide eyes, mouth hanging open. Shame washed through me.

"What's going on out here?" Dutch yelled from the parted flaps of his tent.

"Nothing! Just fucking leave me alone!" I yelled, storming off away from it all, my face burning. Arthur's hand tried to catch my wrist but I jerked it away, not wanting to be kept in that place any longer. I headed down the slope towards the river, the only place I could think to go. Half-way down I regretted not going to the horses, but I didn't even know if I could mount a horse with my leg. I wasn't even really supposed to be walking without support, but it was a bit late for that.

I marched down the edge of the river, my feet slamming down on the rocks below loudly. I stopped soon, the adrenaline wearing off and bringing pain to my attention. My leg throbbed with my quick pulse, but my scalp did too. He'd pulled hard, way harder than I thought. I hobbled over to a rock and slumped down, taking in a shaky, stuttered breath as I released the ribbon that held my braid in, fingering the strands apart and shaking my hair loose. I pushed my fingers through my hair and rubbed at my tender scalp as more shaky breaths came, I felt like I couldn't quite pull a satisfactory breath, and I buried my head in my hands. I felt out of control, like my fingers were slipping from the situation and I couldn't quite grasp my own peace like I'd managed before.

I was always just about able to keep my head, to go along with things and stop myself from lashing out and snapping at every new blow that came my way. But with Micah… I'd strangled him. Even if it was only for a moment, I had my hand around his throat and I'd squeezed. And for what? He'd teased me about speaking to Dutch, it was mild, really. Sure, he'd pulled my hair but I'd provoked him, hadn't I? It was one bad decision after the other–

I was alone for only a few moments before inevitably the crunch of pebbles underfoot came close.

"Please just don't look at me. I wanna be alone," I said.

"I ain't sure if I can do that," it was Arthur, of course. "I'm not leaving you out here with a bad leg and no gun," he added, and I realised he was right. I hadn't equipped my holster that morning, I hadn't felt like wearing it most days while I was sitting around camp.

"I don't wanna go back there," I whispered, hiding my face from him.

"That's okay. I ain't gonna make you," he replied gently, the crunching of stones drawing nearer until I felt his hand scrubbing back and forth across the top of my shoulders. "What the hell happened?"

I heard his breath as he crouched down to my level, his hand on my shoulder, clearly wanting me to look at him.

"He yanked my hair, pulled me right up close to him," I breathed.

"Yeah I saw that part, I was on my way over there to knock a few more teeth loose. But you had it covered, didn't you?" He sounded amused, almost.

"Don't. I ain't proud," I shook my head.

"What did he say?"

I paused. If I told him the complete truth I'd have to explain how I'd been to speak to Dutch. I didn't think Arthur would be that pleased about me interfering like I had. But I didn't want to lie or hide things from him…

"He was being a bastard because I was speaking to Dutch. He made some comments about how I'm getting all cozy with the men here… it weren't a big deal, I pushed him, it got out of hand," I sighed.

"What's that supposed to mean, getting all cozy?" He snorted humourlessly and I was relieved that he didn't question why I'd spoken to Dutch.

"Who knows? Apparently just speaking to a man means I'm sleeping with him, or trying to. You know how he is, he's speaking out of his ass and trying to wind me up. I'm ashamed to say he was successful."

"Don't be ashamed. It's been tough these few weeks, everyone's been lashing out. I don't blame you one bit," he said, rubbing at my shoulder soothingly. My heart squeezed and soared for him and I lifted my head, closing the space between us and hugging him tightly, pressing my face into his neck.

"I don't know why I did it. I snapped. I don't wanna hurt no one, not even Micah, I can't believe I–" I stopped, breathing deep to stop myself from crying.

"You didn't hurt him, he's fine. Well enough to talk shit before I came after you," he assured me but it didn't really help.

"That was so ugly of me, I should just rise above it and walk away. This ain't like me, you're right. About what you said before about seeing yourself change in this gang, maybe that's happening," I leaned back to look at him. He was lost for words, his brows curved in distress and his mouth hanging wordlessly open. "I think I just need a break. I've been there since we arrived. I ain't been out and away from everyone for some time now."

"You want me to get the horses? We can ride out– can you ride?"

"I think I'd be okay side-saddle."

"You can ride with me, then, we can set up a camp elsewhere. You want that?" He cupped my face, thumbs stroking the tops of my cheeks. I nodded my head. "Okay. I'll pack us some things and come get you. You'll be alright here for a couple minutes?" He glanced around as he spoke. I nodded my head.

"Are you sure? You don't have to drop everything for me."

"I ain't got nothing to drop. And even if I did, it ain't no sacrifice spending time with you, you know that," he pressed a kiss to my forehead before getting up. "I'll be as quick as I can, princess."

"Can we take Rayna? Been a while since she's been out," I caught him before he left. He smiled at me fondly and nodded, then carried on back towards camp.

I wasn't waiting long, as he soon returned, walking up the path on the back of Rayna. I heaved myself up off the rock and gingerly headed over to him; he dismounted to help me, taking my arm and helping me up the craggy incline to the path where Rayna was waiting. He grabbed something from the saddlebag and handed it to me. My gun belt.

"Put that on, princess. I don't want you going 'round without it in these parts," he warned, and I nodded and fastened it around my hips, taking my revolver out momentarily to refamiliarise myself with the weight of it in my hand.

"Okay, let's go," I said, and Arthur lifted me onto Rayna's back, then joined me.

"Anywhere in particular you wanna go?" He asked once we were mounted.

"Hmm, there's a real pretty place north from here, if we follow up the Kamassa river. Brandywine Drop, there's this waterfall there, apparently it's beautiful. Maybe we could camp there?" I suggested, and Arthur immediately began down the path.

"You camped there before?"

"No, I ain't even ever been there. My dad liked to fish up there, he told me about it, showed me all the places he went on a map. I had planned to go up there one day but I never got around to it."

"Well, there might be some predators up there. I ain't worried about that, I've camped in all sorts of places; I just remember how you was when we went on that hunting trip with Charles," he said. I chuckled, squeezing my arms around his midriff, leaning my cheek against his shoulder blade.

"I was okay once I was sleeping next to you," I reminded him, and he hummed softly in acknowledgement.

"Okay then, we'll check it out," he said, and we rode peacefully northward, following the babbling water of the Kamassa river as closely as the path would allow.

"Sadie told me that Colm's gone," I said quietly, and felt Arthur nod. "How're you feeling?"

"It was a little messy. But it's done, and I'm glad about it. It was nice to see him swinging from a rope after what he did to me," he huffed. "My shoulder still don't feel totally right. Maybe it never will."

"It don't? You never said that," I lifted my head and gingerly rubbed at the shoulder in question.

"Feels pretty stiff, can't move it as much as I can the other. Still does most of what I want it to, but I'm reminded of it every time I lift my arms past a certain point. More of a nuisance than anything," he murmured. I silently kissed it, not knowing what to say. "But I lived, that's more than most people who pissed Colm O'Driscoll off can say."

"I'd say you're lucky, but I can't bring myself to," I whispered, sliding my hand around his front, slipping it between the open top few buttons of his shirt and union suit to press against his chest, to feel his heartbeat. "You've been through enough that it'd be in bad taste."

"I got you getting me through it. I don't say it enough but I can't tell you how much it helps having you, I don't know how I'd be feeling if I was alone," he said under his breath. "The way I was after Guarma, when I– when my emotions boiled over like that. If you weren't there I don't know who I'd turn to. No one's ever seen me like that."

I didn't know what to say again. I felt stupid, even a little bit rude not saying anything at all, but all the words that came to mind weren't enough.

"I love you. And the thought of you is what's getting me through this; watching Dutch change into someone I barely recognise. Watching this gang become more and more strained, all this tension, like we're all moments away from a massive blow out. When I close up our tent and settle in with you for the night, those times with just you and me, it's calm. I… I need that. Right now it's all I've got," he said, just talking as if he was writing in his journal. He didn't need a response, I sensed that, but I wanted to give him one.

"There ain't a single moment I regret joining this gang. Even when my leg hurts and Micah's pushing my buttons, or the Pinkertons are firing bullets at us, I never, ever think about my life before I joined and long for it. You're worth everything we're put through. I'd stay no matter what. You're worth it and more," I told him. "And you deserve all the love this world can give. You're precious, you really are, I don't care what the newspapers write or anything like that."

I snuggled closer, wrapping my arms around him as firmly as they'd allow, pulling him against my chest like I never wanted to let go; because I didn't. I longed to be like this always and every moment I was allowed to taste what it was like I drank it up with vigour. Arthur was precious. He was a treasure to me, something I wished I could keep safe though I knew it was out of my hands whenever he left for another job. My heart ached with dread when I thought about it because I'd never been so full of love for a single person. I never knew I could feel such a way. It was both beautiful and terrifying.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #atink #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr2 fanfic #reader insert

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seanhtaylor · 4 years ago

Text

Erosion

The breeze that blew the dust around seemed to whisper rumors that a storm was on its way. I’d only swept off about half of the porch, and I wasn’t even close to being finished yet; after the porch came the back storage room. Since I was just a few feet away the from the open doorway, I could hear Pa whistling, but the wall hid him from me. He’d done a lot of counting in there all week.

Big Bull stood silently on the porch, and watched intently as I worked. His stare never left. Never turned. Never stopped. It was as eternal as the thin flat frown the woodworker had given him. He had skin like rust mixed with mud, and his outfit was a rainbow montage of feathers and animal skins. The man who made him was an Indian too.

Three years ago, Pa had finally bought that store he’d always dreamed of owning. Nettle’s General Store was to Pa the culmination of years of hopes, and the end of the elusive vision that never materialized, yet had continued to tease him me mercilessly. Most of his time, free or otherwise, was spent in that store. Neither my mother, sister, nor I saw much of him after that, except sometimes for supper. Meticulously he’d walk each aisle of the small store and stoop to check every bin of merchandise, neglecting nothing at all. Every yarn or straw doll, knitted scarf, Mr. Goodbar, everything was accounted for and inventoried.

Dust flew and danced around me in the breeze while I swept. Every few minutes, whenever his counting brought him to where he could see me out front, Pa would yell out to me to get on with it, or to tell me that I missed a spot. He wasn’t a big man, but he had a big voice. Most of the time he just kept to himself, staying busy with his inventory list.

“Hey, Pa! You need any help counting them yarn dolls?” I yelled, hoping my words would sneak around the doorway to get his attention. “Miss Barnes says my adding’s about the best in the whole class.” I gave him a few seconds to show. “Hey, Pa! “

“What you yelling about now, Midge?” Midge was the nickname given to me by most of the other kids at the schoolhouse. Short for midget, it never let me forget that I was less, at least in stature, than my peers. It was the only name by which most folks in town knew me. “Say, you ain’t done with this porch yet? Dang, son... Quit fooling around with that Indian, and finish the porch.”

“Yes, sir.”

The wind played tag with the dust, and kept me sweeping twice as much as I should’ve just to get done. When I did finish, I gave my broom to Big Bull, leaning it beside his spear. He was surely a sight, that proud warrior, carrying a war spear firm and ready to fight, and there propped up was against him a ramshackle excuse for a broom. If only a real heart beat underneath that chest of oak, it would’ve burst wide open of humiliation.

“So... Who are we gonna get after today, Big Bull? Billy the Kid?”

Indian eyes gazed straight ahead, seeming to point visibly at a victim for the day. Up main street, like the naked emperor in that Hans Christian Anderson story, walked Kyle Lovett.

“Good idea...” I told Big Bull, “Good idea...”

* * *

“Hey Mee-uhge,” Kyle teased, dragging the nickname into two syllables, “You and your Indian chased any rustlers out of town today?”

Kyle stopped in the middle of the street to make sure I didn’t ignore the remark. He looked different than usual. Clean. Dressed in his Sunday suit. Even his brown, mangled hair was combed. He didn’t look like the same Kyle who had bloodied my nose two years ago.

I knew it was stupid to provoke him again, but I couldn’t help it. Besides, Big Bull was with me. “Kyle? Hey, Kyle? What you all dressed up for? Today ain’t Sunday, and there ain’t a funeral in town or nothing.”

“Look here, Midge,” he shook a fist at me, “What I wear is my own business, not yours, runt.”

That was the Kyle I was used to, no matter how he looked. That was the bully who had been responsible for getting me and Big Bull together in the first place. When he had pounded my nose, Pa had been busy in the back of the store, and my mother had been up visiting my aunt and uncle in Missouri, so where else had I to go but to the Indian? He didn’t tell me to hush up my racket, or that I was too big to cry. He had just listened and let me wet his feet and legs with my tears and the blood from my nose. By the time I’d finished, the swelling had gone down, and most of the bruises weren’t sore anymore. Pa had sure been mad though; the blood wouldn’t wash out, so my shirt had been pretty much ruined, and it was a gift from my cousins.

“I just wanted to know. Didn’t mean to make nothing of it.”

“Well, it ain’t none of your business anyhow... but if go telling everybody, I’ll get you like last time.” Satisfied, he spun around, facing away from the big Windham house at the edge of Chattville, and strutted off like the only rooster in a house full of hens.

* * *

Sometimes Big Bull and I would pass the afternoon hoping for a new General Motors’ car to drive by. Most people who owned a car had an older Model T from ten or twelve years ago. The Windhams owned the only General Motors’ vehicle in town, but they only got it out when they went out to another town. Mostly everybody walked since Chattville was so small.

Before Kyle’s dust could get a chance to settle, Molly Windham came skipping up the street, her red hair pulled off to the sides of her head in pigtails, each one bouncing without rhythm, beating softly on her neck.

“That you, Midge?”

Molly was fourteen, three and a half years older than I was, but it didn’t matter much. Especially standing there in her green party dress, made up like she was grown, not just a girl.

“Sure is.”

She bounced right up to the porch, grinning like the cat from Wonderland.

“Midge...”

“Uh-uh.”

“I just got the best news in the world.” Her lips were painted with bright red; they were two roses, growing on her face. “And I’m so excited I feel like kissing somebody.”

And she did. Molly Windham leaned over and stuck her two roses right on my forehead, and puckered like a fish.

I thought the stars had fallen from heaven, and were dancing around me.

While the stars danced, Molly twirled off the porch, and straight over to the dress-maker’s shop. She jangled the bell beside his door a few times, spinning and jangling, jangling and spinning, until Sam Miller finally came out and yelled something I couldn’t make out before pulling her inside. The echo from the bell drifted toward me and Big Bull.

“Did you see that!?”

The Indian didn’t answer, but I knew he was listening, and that he hadn’t missed any of it.

“Pa... Pa... Guess what!”

* * *

“You done with that porch yet?” Pa had come out to the screen door, tapping his pencil hard against that list of his. “There’s plenty more sweeping to be done inside.”

“Pa...”

He slipped his pencil into the front pocket of his work apron, and pulled his watch and chain from out of his pocket. As he flipped it open, he nodded, “Now, don’t ‘Pa’ me. You know it takes a lot of work to keep this place going. That means all of us.”

“But Lucy doesn’t have to.”

“Your sister’s busy enough taking care of your mother. She don’t have the time.”

“But...”

Pa was starting to get mad. His eyes narrowed like an Oriental man, and his ears began to turn a little red under where his hair was cut. “No excuses. First the back room, where the feed is. After that, we’ll see about letting you play some more with that Indian.”

He held the screen door open until I got the broom and drudged inside, dragging it with me. His eyes didn’t leave me until the door to the back room slammed shut behind me. I know. I peeked back out as he turned.

* * *

My wooden friend waited patiently while I swept out the back room. He hadn’t changed a single expression while I’d been gone. Just like always. He was there waiting.

“How much do you think flowers cost, Big Bull?”

I kept watching for Molly to leave Sam Miller’s shop. After a while nobody went in or came out anymore, but there was still no sign of Molly.

“Special flowers, I mean. Something better than I could pick out of somebody’s yard.”

Directly, Sam left the shop too, and locked the door behind him. He left two empty buckets outside the shop’s door like he always did, just in case anybody needed to borrow one late in the day. His brown suit pulled tight over his round frame making him look like a sausage with a lump in the middle.

“What kind of flowers do girls like now, anyway? They’re always so hard to please. That’s what Pa says. He ought to know... he’s known my mother a long time and all.”

Sam had to walk down by the store to get to his house, and as he waddled by, I waved to him and said hello.

“Well, if it ain’t little Midge. Say, you got you a girl for the dance next month? Surely your Pa and...” He made a face like he’d swallowed a horse. “Surely he’s gonna let you and your sister get out to it.”

“We ain’t so good at dancing, Mr. Miller.”

“I ain’t so good myself...” he said, and he was right. Round men who bounce when they walk looked twice as silly dancing. Even though he waltzed like a bag of potatoes, he always went. The girls said he made the best dancing gowns in the state. “But I wouldn’t miss seeing all the pretty girls in their new dresses I’ve made for them. Just today Molly Windham ordered one of the most difficult gowns I’ve ever had to put together. Old Man Windham said not to worry about how much it costs. It’s a dress-maker’s dream, Midge.”

“What color is it, Mr. Miller?”

“Color? It ain’t just any color, Midge. I’ve gotta order the cloth clean out of St. Louis.”

“They got different colors in St. Louis than here in Chattville?”

“No. Now don’t fool with an old man’s funny bone. It’s red, except it’s the same color red as Molly’s hair, lighter in spots, and shiny when the sun hits it right.” Sam pulled on a gold chain that disappeared into the fold-over of flesh and suit where his pocket should have been. Out flopped a gold pocketwatch. He opened it. “Mrs. Miller will be wondering were I am soon. Hope you get to go.”

I waved goodbye, and then when he was gone. “Roses. Red roses. The reddest we can find.”

I knew Big Bull approved.

* * *

Pa said no when I asked him about the flowers. I told him I’d work harder, and even stay away from the gumballs, but he still said no. That he was spending too much on the store already, and with my mother’s fever still not breaking, even though it had been two weeks.

* * *

The wind was picking up, turning a calm kiss-like breeze into a cold slap. Some papers announcing the dance floated across town in short hops, then flew on, bullet-like, when the stronger drafts got a hold of them.

The porch was warm underneath my weight, but when I touched it in a new place the wood was cold. The moisture on my hands would chill and then thaw in a fluid motion. I looked back at Big Bull.

“Sure was nice of old Joe to let me work for the flowers.”

I held the two flowers, roses, red as Molly’s fiery hair and the lips that had kissed me. They had cost me every cent I had plus a promise to work down at Old Joe’s flower shop once a week when I wasn’t helping Pa at the store. It was a high price, but worth it to see the look I knew would be on Molly’s face when I asked her to the dance.

It had seemed like hours until dusk came. Now that it was here, I could hardly wait. But the timing had to be perfect. I had to show up right after the dishes were put away. If I arrived early, the surprise would get lost in the clean-up shuffle; if I was too late, the effect would be interrupted by the family time around the radio listening to Amos and Andy.

“Wish me luck,” I said, and dashed from the porch.

Roses firmly in hand, I hurried down to the house at the edge of Chattville where Molly and her father lived (Her mother had died of tuberculosis when Molly was a baby). I could think only of my dream, my vision, waiting for me there in her red party dress, the fringes dancing in the evening breeze. My heart seemed not only to beat, but to pound with a steady, driving, big jazz rhythm like Benny Goodman or Louis Armstrong was directing its music. Time hardly passed at all, it seemed before I was there, suddenly staring at the heavy oak door.

Mr. Windham answered the door quickly after my small closed hand gathered the resolve to knock. His herringbone suit hung comfortably loose off of his tall thin frame. When he recognized me, his small mustache twitched and his eyes focused down onto mine.

“Why Midge, what a pleasant surprise. What can I do for you?”

“Is Molly in, sir? I’d sure like to see her. I’ve got something for her.”

“Sure she is. Right in the den with...”

Kyle Lovett. Mr. Windham didn’t have to say it. I knew it the minute I walked in. He was sitting on the couch with Molly, holding her hand. How could she!? Didn’t she know what he was like? Kyle Lovett.

The roses were trampled underfoot as I choked on the anger rising in my throat, and ran away to Pa, dragging a cracked and tender heart behind me.

* * *

“Pa! Pa!” I pounded at the door with my small fists, knowing he would be locked away in the back office, listening to the clickety-clacks of the adding machine.

The sky had blackened while I had left Molly’s, and had given its first few drops to warn me that a big storm was coming. Rumbles sounded in the distance, but grew a little louder each time. If I’d had sense enough, I’d have let the winds blow me straight up the street to my house, safe from the weather.

“Pa! Please let me in. There’s a storm coming, Pa. Pa!”

As if it had waited for my announcement, the thunder and rain let loose on the earth like God was trying to punish us the way the Pastor down at the Missionary Church had said. The rain began to pelt down, soaking the dirt of the road, and beating it into a shallow layer of mud almost instantly. The papers that had been blown all over town were drenched and wrenched apart by the combined power of the wind and water.

Across the street was the wall of clay we all climbed on in the summer. At least we tried to climb it. It went about sixteen feet straight up, smooth as a polished stone. The only way to make it to the top was to take two pocket knives, and edge your way up, one jab at a time. Only the oldest and strongest boys ever made it all the way. The rest of us could hardly even stick the knives in the wall, since the clay was so hard and set.

Only, the storm washed it down to sixteen feet of mush pretty quickly. Anyone who tried to climb it now would probably drown in the river of wet clay eroding down the face of the wall.

The wind lifted Sam Miller’s two buckets, and sent one through the candy store window, and the other into the outside wall, where it dented and fell, waiting for another flight.

Although the porch kept me safe from most of the wind, it offered me no protection from the worst of the storm. The rain invaded in solid bullets of water, spreading out and joining together to make lakes and reservoirs that ran down between the cracks, only to be replaced by the new puddles that continued to build.

“Pa!” I yelled, but the thunder swallowed my cries. Big Bull stood firm. Since he was so heavy, the wind couldn’t shake him, not even a quiver. The rain soaked into the wood, but that only made him heavier, more secure. It also darkened the colors, and brought him closer to life.

Through the curtain of water, I saw every cut, every strain of artistry on Big Bull’s frame. In each carefully carved inch of his face, pain rested. His eyes were deep- set and sunken a little in sorrow, but somehow friendly in their darkness. The mouth was closed in an eternal silence, and the wrinkled carvings surrounding the flattened frown revealed a subdued bitterness that flamed, no doubt, beneath the painted exterior. Though he held only a single spear, his muscles were tensed and rigid, ready to answer the call to fight, eager. Big Bull captured well not only the hurt and anger of his people, but their strength as well.

So I hid from the storm.

The Indian’s figure kept me dry for the most part. Patches of rain managed every now and then to sneak around his legs and hit me, but I was separated from the worst part of the weather.

In time, the fury of the storm faded away. Its terrible threats and banshee screams died into quiet darkness. The sun had abandoned its post during the attack, leaving Chattville lighted only by the incandescent glow of random windows. Sleep, like a desire for death, found me, and I curled around Big Bull’s wooden feet.

* * *

“Midge... Midge... Get up. You’ll catch a death of cold out here.”

The blackness lifted from behind my mind and eyes, and I saw Pa trying to help me up.

“Pa...”

“Yeah, it’s me. What were you doing out here in the middle of that storm anyway? I thought you were home with your mother and sister.”

I didn’t answer. Instead, I reached for the handle of Big Bull’s spear, and used it to pull my worn-out body to a sluggish stance. Pa immediately reached out to keep me from falling again to the porch, but the spear supported me well enough.

“Let’s get you inside. I’ve got some hot cider going if you want some. It’ll sure help warm up your inards.”

I felt Pa’s overcoat as it was put around me to keep me from shivering. I expected it to engulf me, but it barely spread across my shoulders. He was a much smaller man than I had imagined.

#Gomer and other Early Works #Sean Taylor #short story #Erosion #Southern Fiction

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francoiserenaldt · 4 years ago

Audio

This playlist is for one of my ILITW MCs, Desirée Ashton. I hope you enjoy! Song explanations under the cut.

wings little mix

mama told me not to waste my life / she said spread your wings, my little butterfly

I wanted to kick off the playlist with this song because it’s the closest I could get to establishing who Desirée is as a person. People have talked shit about her all her life; growing up poor and black in an affluent, predominantly white neighborhood will do that to you, so this song represents how she manages to rise above it everyday.

omg little mix

i don’t even know / why they fall like dominoes

My girl is...not the best at relationships. She’s very stubborn when it comes to what she likes in a person, so she ends up in a lot of situations where people who don’t interest her in any way are attracted to her. It’s about as nightmarish as you’d expect.

pray for me kendrick lamar ft. the weeknd

if i’m gon’ die for you / if i’m gon’ kill for you / then i spill this blood for you +

i fight the world / i fight you / i fight myself

This song represents Desirée’s relationship with her twin brother, Devon. Because he’s so much more emotionally fragile than she is, she’s constantly defending him from the community. She would happily die for him, but it wears on her constantly.

no tears left to cry ariana grande

right now, i’m in a state of mind / i wanna be in, like all the time

Her emotional state is a series of high highs and low lows because she’s always going through some shit, so it’s really an occasion when she’s feeling good.

scrolling adrianxpression

i’m looking in the mirror to make me reconsider / but the hole that’s in my heart / it just keeps on getting bigger

This one is her when her anxiety acts up.

i was here beyonce

i gave my all / did my best / brought someone some happiness

Desirée gives a lot of herself to the people she lets in, which is why it hurts when no one mourns her.

elastic heart sia

I’ve got thick skin and an elastic heart / but your blade might be too sharp +

you won’t see me fall apart / cuz i’ve got an elastic heart

elastic bali baby

fucked it up, made it back / it’s elastic +

i wanna go off / yes, i know it is tempting

Her resilience through everything she’s gone through takes its toll on her patience, so when it’s gone...let’s just say you don’t want to be the one she’s mad at.

successful ariana grande

it feels so good to be so young and have this fun and be successful / i’m so successful

Before her family got rich, she had a borderline unhealthy obsession with working hard because her parents engrained it in her mind (“work or die” and “go to school or die in poverty” type stuff) so this is sort of her enjoying the product of all of her work in addition to the money she has now.

icy girl saweetie

i don’t got time for these hoes / speaking on my name like i’m someone that they know

This is her attitude toward naysayers as an adult (think ILB age). In Wings, she was bothered by the things people said about her. Now, she’s mostly dismissive unless they really cross a line.

bartier cardi cardi b

cardi took your man, you upset / cardi got rich, they upset, yeah

Self explanatory.

joan of arc little mix

i don’t need a man / if i’m lovin’ you, it’s ‘cause i can / i don’t want your cash / i put my own rock on my hand

As someone who’s been on both sides of the class spectrum, she’s pretty knowledgeable about the power of money and what it does to people. Knowing that information has made her really cagey about who she lets herself depend on.

home with you madison beer

you do what you wanna, wanna do / but i’m not going home with you, home with you

7 rings ariana grande

been through some bad shit, i should be a sad bitch / who would’ve thought it’d turn me to a savage?

pop shit molly brazy

fuck all that squashing that beef / bitch you know there ain’t know ending that

Desirée holds a mean grudge. Nuff said.

one woman army porcelain black

i’m on the battlefield like oh my god / knocking soldiers down like house of cards

This could be taken literally or metaphorically depending on how you look at it.

vroom vroom charli xcx

all my friends are princesses, we keep it whipped and creamy / ice cubes on our tongues because we like to keep it freezy

I included this song because I could see her blasting this in the car (when she eventually gets one) while driving with the other girls in the cast.

cocky af megan thee stallion

cocky as fuck and my friends cocky too / if you got beef with me, they got it too

6 inch beyonce

she fights for the power, keeping time / she grinds from monday to friday / work from friday to sunday

Desirée is a huge fan of throwing herself into her work when she’s dealing with other problems. She kind of...spirals when she doesn’t have a project to focus on and I thought this song was a good representative of that. Also there is no such thing as too much Beyonce.

i don’t feel anymore kahlen barry

want you to think about / everything you’re leaving behind / walk out that door, i promise i won’t cry / because i can’t cry / i don’t feel anymore

She takes betrayal hard. Yeah, no one takes betrayal well, but she becomes a different person when she’s been screwed over by someone she let in.

love is blindness jack white

love is blindness / i don’t wanna see / why don’t you wrap the knife / around me

This is her view of her parent’s relationship. Without getting too much into it, they’re an example of everything she doesn’t want for her future partnerships.

ball w/o you 21 savage

you was my rock, heavy metal / now you ain’t shit to me +

gave you my all / you was my dawg

This is the song about Noah Marshall, plain and simple.

teeth 5sos

you turn into somebody i don’t know / and you push me away, push me away yeah

Desirée can be two completely different people when she hates them.

fashion killa asap rocky

i love your linda farrow / i adore your dior +

smiling is your treasure, you’re so well put together

Desiree is very into fashion and dressing well, so the new money gives her a chance to really show out.

not friendly flo milli

ain’t no competition to me / girl, i always seem to win / when i’m done wit ha / i bet she won’t try that shit again

Desirée does not put up with anything that harms her or her loved ones. Period.

girls in the hood megan thee stallion

because the girls in the hood are always hard / ever since 16, i been having a job / knowing nothing in life / but i gotta get rich / you can check the throwback pics / i been that bitch +

these bitches mad mad / they wanna hurt me

Self-explanatory.

If you read all that, I love you. Thank you for your time and I hope you have a good day!

#ilaweek #mc: desiree ashton #ilitw #day 1 #my tunes

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guillotine-hours · 4 years ago

Text

/start word vomit

I’m still stuck on Molly saying that who Issa was now and who she was weren’t like compatible anymore or however she phrased it. Dude, whet? Do you mean now that Issa can pick up her own brunch bill you can’t fuck with her anymore? Because she’s feeling fulfilled and passionate about her work? Perhaps it’s that she can find a meaningful female relationship with somebody that’s not you? (Although that Condola bit fizzled out with the quickness) You can’t be superior to her now so that’s just a wrap? And when her therapist asked if her the relationship still served her, she didn’t have an answer. The power dynamic might not be what it was and instead of adjusting appropriately you wanna just dip? Ew. Why is this woman so pressed alllll the time? She got her bag. She got her dick. She got her weird ass all blue denim-ish outfit. Chillll

And tf, why would you text him WHILE she is still there? In the same goddamn room? Fam, wait until Issa and Nathan leave. Ya’ll can have a whole ass conversation about it. She couldn’t even properly apologize and acknowledge how wrong she was with that either! “You weren’t supposed to see that?” Word, is water also wet? She really thought she was doing something when she said maybe it was time to call their relationship a wrap, but then she got hit with the “Ok.” You mad she agreed with you? You the one said it! Oh you wanted her to argue back like you didn’t just illustrate that you were willing to put in NO work to make it happen. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve been in the position where it was easier for me to walk away because I didn’t have the tools (or the guts to try to make it work because what if I fucked it up or the presence of mind to ask for help), but this grown ass woman is in therapy. She’s being guided on what the fuck to do and she’s just not about it. She’s not even like “I want to do that but I don’t know how,” she’s like “ok well I had brunch with you soooo obvi i tried but by the way that was wack anyway because you didn’t talk about the real issues that i’m also clearly incapable of speaking on”

I always wonder if the blatant need to communicate is as evident in my own real life as it is in tv (this is rhetorical. i know the answer. I’m acknowledging i’m a hypocrite)

Not to mention I’m still stuck on them being in the store and Issa putting her shit back and Molly not even opening her mouth to help her out. Sis is on that big law firm money and you can’t get some snacks for your girl? Like I am on some shit if I don’t drop that shit in my own cart without hesitation ESPECIALLY when it is financially feasible for me to do so.

Obviously she can’t make a 180 in the last episode so this is gonna bother me until we get this resolved next season. I’m really interested to see how the writers like redeem her lol. I know they’re going to do another beautiful job on growth and forgiveness etc but I feel like Molly’s change is gonna happen as a result of Andrew dumping her (get that man a samosa ffs!) so the impetus is gonna be because of a man (blech) but whatever gets her there I guess

Really trying not to get my hopes up re: Issa/Lawrence cuz they’re gonna move that man to San Francisco, but damnit if they aren’t cute together. I can understand this version of them being couple goals but ya’ll need to remember you need to be clever for that. If that ain’t you, stand in your other strengths lol

/end word vomit

#insecure #molly #issa #things i do instead of my paper on the FAA #btw could SCOTUS be on mando arbitration's dick any stronger?#text post

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havocmadden · 5 years ago

Photo

S I D E A — P R I N C E S S E S D O N ’ T C R Y L I S T E N H E R E

S I D E B — Q U E E N O F M E A N L I S T E N H E R E

princesses don't cry — aviva ❝ cause a princess doesn't cry / a princess doesn't cry / over monsters in the night / don't waste our precious time / on boys with pretty eyes / a princess doesn't cry / a princess doesn't cry / burning like a fire / you feel it all the time / but wipe your teary eyes. ❞

the garden — mirah ❝ oh oh i really wanted that thing / i just want to sing / ‘i love you baby / won't you bring / all the flowers you / find out in the garden / don't tell me the truth / that your heart has hardened’ / but you don't want me anymore / how can it be / look what you've done to me. ❞

prom queen — molly kate kestner ❝ god save the prom queen / teenage daydream / just another dressed up heartbreak / god save the prom queen / only eighteen / turned her tears to diamonds in her crown. ❞

you should see me in a crown — billie eilish ❝ you should see me in a crown / i'm gonna run this nothing town / watch me make 'em bow / one by one by one / one by one by / you should see me in a crown / your silence is my favorite sound / watch me make 'em bow / one by one by one / one by one by / count my cards, watch them fall / blood on a marble wall / i like the way they all scream / tell me which one is worse / living or dying first. ❞

hey little girl — sophiemarie.b ❝ i want you to feel bad when you go to sleep / i hope you're sad when you remember me / and feel bad for all you did to me / i hope you lie there in your misery / hey little girl you'll never believe / there's a ghost inside of you / but it's hidden too deep / hey little girl you'll never imagine / when you get a little older / you'll get abandoned / hey little girl you know smoking kills / you don't really care / 'cause you love how it feels / hey little girl you're falling apart / you don't really care / 'cause they broke your heart. ❞

queen — loren gray ❝ you can call me a princess all you like / 'cause you love to keep me helpless by your side / but that ain't what i want, i'ma show you / i'ma show you how to treat me like a queen / boy, you better bow down on your knees / can i get a ‘yes, your majesty’? / so treat me like a queen / boy, you better bow down on your knees / can i get a ‘yes, your majesty’? ❞

starring role — marina and the diamonds ❝ you don't love me / big fucking deal / i'll never tell you how i feel / you don't love me / not a big deal / i'll never tell you how i feel / it almost feels like a joke to play out a part / when you are not the starring role in someone else's heart / you know i'd rather walk alone / than play a supporting role / if i can't get the starring role. ❞

savage — bahari ❝ when you touch me you take me to heaven / when you hold me my body's a weapon / if you think that you can save me, break me down, and tame me / here's your chance to do some damage / savage. ❞

i want it all — natalie taylor ❝ i wanted beautiful things / diamond rings, diamonds rings / i get what i want / i live just to get what i want / i want it all. ❞

grrls — aviva ❝ blameless i'll shatter through the glare / make it, take it, they won't share / i can't fake it, i'll just make it on my own / i can't blame them, i'll just maim them on my throne / i can't fake it, i'll just make it on my own / i can't blame them, i just got to get to my throne / i am the latest colors, i sing the newest songs / i read all the lyrics, so i can sing along / i am the latest colors, i stand above my throne / waiting for an invite to never come along. ❞

white horse — taylor swift ❝ stupid girl / i should have known / i should have known / that i'm not a princess / this ain't a fairy tale / i'm not the one you'll sweep off her feet / lead her up the stairwell / this ain't hollywood / this is a small town / i was a dreamer before you went and let me down / now it's too late for you / and your white horse to come around. ❞

angry too — lola blanc ❝ i don't wanna be controlled by the past / boy if you were me could you really blame me? / would it make you crazy / cause another and another coming up out of the gutter / till i'm drowning in an ocean of entitled motherfuckers / and they're pushing all my buttons / but they never seem to wonder why / another and another ask each other / does it get your blood boiling / does it make you see red? / do you wanna destroy it / does it get in your head? / cause it gets my blood boiling and i'm coming unglued / it would hit you like poison if you knew what i knew / you would be angry too / calm down girl why you so mad? / why's your heart gone / oh good girl why you upset? / guess they have forgotten what they did. ❞

dear society — madison beer ❝ diets that i shouldn't try / it feels like social suicide / and honestly, it's cyanide, i'm 'bout to die / been 21 since 17, thanks to all the magazines / man, sometimes, i just wanna scream and break my screen / i'm a natural disaster / but even after all that i do / it's you who's gonna be the death of me / and none of this matters / baby, it's you, it's you / you're bad for my health / i should probably get some help / i can't control myself / i'm addicted to the hell / my heart is getting sick from the tar that's on your lips / yeah, you're bad for my health / you should hurt somebody else. ❞

i did something bad — taylor swift ❝ i can feel the flames on my skin / crimson red paint on my lips / if a man talks shit then i owe him nothing / i don't regret it one bit 'cause he had it coming / they say i did something bad / then why's it feel so good? / they say i did something bad / but why's it feel so good? / most fun i ever had / and i'd do it over and over and over again if i could / it just felt so good. ❞

last night’s mascara — brynn cartelli ❝ that dude i was kissing / nah, he didn't love me / he was on every varsity team / i need a little attention just to forget you / even though tomorrow no one will remember a thing but now / now i still don't understand how / i've got last night's mascara still on my face / i kinda knew that there'd be trouble / but i did it anyway / i swear i used to be innocent / you held my hand / i don't remember how i got here / i don't remember what i said / but i've got last night's mascara / last night's mascara / yeah, i still got last night's mascara on somehow. ❞

villians, part one — emma blackery ❝ but my body is bored of being torn apart / and i've done this to myself / so if you're thinking of stealing the last love i have / then you're thinking of stealing somebody else / turn the lights down low / if this is how i go / i'll tell them that the villains on my list / they're what turned me into this / so i'll go / i'm better off alone / run and tell them that the villains on my list / they're the reason i've been pulled so low. ❞

homecoming queen — kelsey ballerini ❝ been so good at smiling / most of your life / look damn good in the dress / zipping up the mess / dancing with your best foot forward / does it get hard to have to play the part? / nobody's feeling sorry for ya / but what if i told you the world wouldn't end / if you started showing what's under your skin / what if you let 'em all in on the lie? / even the homecoming queen cries. ❞

castle — halsey ❝ i'm headed straight for the castle / they wanna make me their queen / and there's an old man sitting on the throne / that's saying that i probably shouldn't be so mean / i'm headed straight for the castle / they've got the kingdom locked up / and there's an old man sitting on the throne / that's saying i should probably keep my pretty mouth shut / straight for the castle. ❞

little girl — faith marie ❝ take a walk, clear your head, breath in, count to ten / cause on the first page of life written in red / you'll never make it here if you don't learn how to bend / don't speak unless you're spoken to, little girl / someday you will find your place in the world / but ladies don't get dirty / someday you'll learn to fill the empty space with empty faith. ❞

burn the witch — emma blackery ❝ i'm a liar, i'm a bitch / and you and i have unfinished business / narcissistic hypocrite / and i'm petty as hell but at least i admit it / blow my phone up, say i'm crazy / i know know what you've called me lately / it's time to burn the witch. ❞

princess — fletcher ❝ we've all been told when we were little / we could grow up and live a fairy tale / but no one ever bothered telling us that / the storybook ending never started out well / why's there always gotta be a hero? / what if cinderella had to save herself? / it's not like we don't need a little help / but maybe it's a good thing to go through a little hell. ❞

don’t make me — melinda ❝ never was built to be this way / but turns out the villain is fun to play / your hollywood romance, extra and sappy, but / spoiler alert: the ending ain't happy / eggshells crack beneath your feet / the ugly truth is bittersweet / so dress it up in fancy clothes / but we both know how this goes / don't make me be the bad guy. ❞

#descendantsedit #audrey descendants #disney descendants #sarah jeffrey #audrey disney descendants #audrey daughter of sleeping beauty #princess audrey rose #audrey rose #mine : edits #mine : playlists #tbt #this formatting took me like three hours because tumblr doesn't have a stupid fucking paragraph alignment setting :)

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the-awkward-outlaw · 5 years ago

Text

Second Chances - Ch. 22

Turning of the Tides

Warnings: Swearing, unimaginable fluff

Word count: ~8500

Masterlist

Read on AO3

The night after your adventure in Lagras, Dutch takes Arthur, John, Bill and Lenny out to deal with Bronte. Hosea tries desperately to change his mind, but to no avail. As the group rides out of camp, he shakes his head.

You watch them leave, feeling worried. Bronte will surely be heavily guarded and then there’s the possibility of city cops. Grimshaw assigns you to guard duty for the afternoon.

As you stand by the gates of Shady Belle, you listen to the forest. A horse stomps its way towards you from the direction of the house and you turn to see Molly riding a small dun horse. You can tell from her eyes she’s been crying. She and Dutch fought again when he returned last night and most of the day she drank heavily.

“Ms. O’Shea,” you say. “What are you doing?”

“Don’t you worry about me!” she snaps, pausing her horse. “You get to leave with Arthur whenever you want, but anyone sees me set foot out of here and everyone loses their minds!”

“Molly, the city is dangerous right now, I really don’t think-”

“I don’t care what you think! I’m going and you can’t stop me!” She kicks her horse into a gallop and leaves. You stare after her, worried.

Charles approaches you, prepared to take the night shift. You hand him the repeater and go into camp. Spotting Hosea and Abigail at the table, you sit down, interrupting their conversation.

“Molly’s leaving,” you state.

“We know,” Hosea says sadly. “We tried talking to her, but she don’t wanna listen to us.”

“She just needs some time,” Abigail says. “Dutch ain’t been too kind to her lately. Everyone needs a break from this place sometimes. She’ll come back.”

The three of you fall silent for a moment. “Y/N, I’m glad you came over,” Hosea says. “Wanted to talk to you about this bank job.”

“I didn’t think I would be involved,” you say.

“Well, you’re not yet. But in order to do this right, we need to create a diversion away from the bank. I figure you, Abigail and myself will do that. We’ll go in, looking like city folks. I figure we plant a dud stage and set it off with dynamite.”

Abigail chews on her lip. “We’ll have to make sure no one sees us with the dynamite.”

“That’s easy. We’ll take the stage we stole and put dynamite inside before leaving. You two act as lookouts while I light it and we walk away before anyone figures out what we’re doing. If all goes according to plan, no one will suspect a thing and we can sneak out.”

“I don’t know, Hosea,” you say. “Seems like a lot of our plans the past few months haven’t gone too well for us.”

“This one will, Y/N. Just have some faith.” Hosea pats your hand and stands up. “Just think about it, hmm?”

You nod and he leaves, lighting his pipe. Abigail stirs in her seat, almost as though searching for something to say.

“So you and Arthur are getting pretty close?” she says.

“Yeah. He’s, well, let’s just say when I first met him, I didn’t know how much of a romantic he was.”

She laughs. “He’s always been like that. The carin’ sort. I just wish John…” she sighs heavily.

“He’s getting better though, isn’t he? I’ve seen him with Jack more.”

“He is, but I still have to talk him into it. It’s like he can’t make up his mind about the boy, and yet Jack looks up to him so.”

“He’ll come around. John may not be the brightest man here, but he knows what’s right.”

“I suppose. Well, I better go see to that boy.”

She gets up and walks into the house. Javier sits by the fire with Uncle, but they’re both quiet. You see Karen stumbling about on the edges of camp, a bottle swaying from her hand. Sighing, you get up and decide to head to bed, hoping you can sleep without Arthur by your side.

By morning, all the men except for Arthur and John returns. Lenny tells you and Abigail they stayed out after Bronte was dealt with. Dutch seems irritable, but he doesn’t seem to notice the absence of Molly. You approach him as he pours himself a cup of coffee.

“Hello, Dutch,” you say. “I wanted to let you know that Molly-”

“I don’t want to hear about Ms. O’Shea right now,” he grumbles. “I cannot worry about her, I got too much goin’ on.” He stomps away towards the house, stopping near Hosea.

Midafternoon comes and Arthur and John finally return. John bids him farewell and heads off towards the gazebo where Abigail is sitting with Jack. Arthur rubs his jaw, his stubble nearly returned to normal. He sees you and walks over.

“Hello, Y/N.”

“Arthur. You okay? Surprised you didn’t come home last night.”

He sighs and hides his eyes with his hat. Something is troubling him.

“You wanna talk about it?” you ask.

“Yeah. Yeah, maybe that would be good. Let’s go somewhere else, I don’t wanna be in this camp anymore.”

He leads you over to the horses and you mount Rannoch, feeling worried. Arthur

doesn’t speak as you walk and you don’t pressure him. He takes you in the direction of Rhodes and you recognize the familiar path leading to Clemens Point. Stopping in the clearing, you look around at the familiar area. After dismounting, he heads towards the lake, still not speaking.

You stand next to him as he gazes out across the burning lake and take his hand. “What’s going on, honey?” you ask.

He sighs and sits down, leaning against the large tree. You do the same, your shoulders touching.

“Well, we got to Bronte just fine. Slippery snake tried to weasel his way out, but Dutch took him to the swamp, same place that big ol’ gator tried to get us. He killed him, but in… in a bad way.”

He explains how Dutch had drowned Bronte and then fed him to the gators. The violence of it seems to shock him.

“I ain’t known Dutch a long time,” you say, “but that don’t seem like him.”

“No, it ain’t. I been with him 20 years, never seen him do nothing like that. He’s killed a lot of folk, sure. Who of us hasn’t? But feedin’ a man to a damn gator, I don’t know many people who deserve that. And it was just the way he looked at Bronte. Almost like… like he wanted what Bronte had and hated him for it. I’m not makin’ any sense.”

“No, Arthur, you are. I’m just… It just seems like ever since that trolley job, he’s changed. Been so angry. The way he talked to you the other night. I don’t know, he’s even been lookin’ at me funny, like I made him mad or somethin’.”

“Don’t know how you could have. You should hear the way Pearson talks about ya. Almost expectin’ him to propose to you any day now.”

“Arthur, you pig!” you laugh and smack his arm. He chuckles and pulls you into a one-armed hug.

“Come on, let’s go to Rhodes,” he says.

“What for? You think it’s safe after Sean?”

“Yeah I think so. Most people involved with that got killed and it’s been long enough. I was thinkin’ we could maybe play some black jack, have some fun.”

“Yeah, okay.”

You both head into Rhodes as the sun sets, relieved that no one seems to recognize Arthur. He stops in the store to buy a few things, and he tells you to find a new book. You see one titled “The Portrait of Dorian Gray”, and place it on the counter next to Arthur’s items. Nodding approvingly, he pays for it with his other things.

Afterwards, he guides you down the street, offering you his arm. He keeps smirking at you, making you suspicious.

“What’s going on in that mind of yours, Mr. Morgan?”

“Nothin’. Just happy to be out here with you is all.”

“Uh-huh,” you say, not believing a word of it. Just as you’re about to approach the front of the hotel, Arthur stops and pushes you against the wall of the building. You’re about to ask what he’s doing when his lips are on yours, his body pressed against you.

He pulls away slowly. “Sorry, darlin’. Just… felt like I needed to do that.”

Blushing, you giggle. “You’re funny, Arthur, but what are you doing? You can kiss me whenever you want, why now?”

He smiles. “Like you said, I can kiss ya whenever I want.” His thumb traces your cheek gently, making your heart flutter.

“You’re real funny, Mr. Morgan.”

“And you’re beautiful.” He kisses you again, softer this time. He sighs and pulls away.

“Thought we were here to play black jack?” you open your eyes, your hands on his shoulders.

“Yes we are.” He offers you his arm again and leads you up the stairs towards the black jack table. Before you have a chance to pull out your money, he lays down your bet. As the dealer begins handing out cards, you notice Arthur’s been holding your hand since the moment you sat down. Something’s going on with him, but you’re not sure what.

You play for nearly an hour before Arthur decides he’s done for the night. He takes you to the main floor and buys dinner. Over the meal, he’s become oddly quiet. You try to pick up a conversation, but he doesn’t seem interested. Figuring he’s just tired or worried about Dutch, you suggest getting a room for the night, to which he agrees.

He gets up and pays for a room, beckoning for you to follow him. He leads you to a room in the back with a bed no wider than the one you share in Shady Belle. Shrugging, you sit down, Arthur next to your side. He’s still quiet and he seems to be lost in his head. You extend your hand and gently grab his face, turning it to you.

“Just you and me here now,” you say and kiss him. He sighs and kisses you back. Your hand wanders down to his shirt and you undo the first button.

“Not tonight, darlin’,” he says, grabbing your hand. You pull back and look into his face, which is hard and unreadable.

“Is something wrong?” you ask.

“No. Just… not in the mood tonight. Ya mind if we just go to sleep? Plannin’ on an early morning.”

“Why? What’s going on tomorrow?”

“Nothin’. I’ll explain in the mornin’. Just get some rest.”

Something in you wants to push further, but his eyes seem sad. You nod and unlace your boots, lying down. He lies down as well and you slide into the crook of his arm. His hand rests gingerly on your shoulder, but it feels as though he’s forcing himself to tolerate your touch.

In the morning, you wake up alone. You look around but Arthur’s nowhere to be seen. His hat’s resting on the dresser under the window. After sitting up, you grab your knees. Something about the way he was acting last night when you were alone seems strange, completely unlike him. A strange feeling settles into your stomach.

The door opens and Arthur walks in, his hair damp. He offers you a brief and uncharacteristic good morning, which you quietly return.

“Come on, get dressed,” he says hastily.

“Where are we going?”

“Huntin’ trip.”

“Okay, but where?”

He looks at you before answering. “West Elizabeth, I reckon.”

He quickly leaves the room, letting you get dressed in privacy. You can’t shake off the feeling that he’s irritated with you. You try thinking back, wondering what you may have done or said, but coming up with nothing. He had been so sweet when you’d come into town, but after dinner he acted like he didn’t want you around.

You leave the room, still conflicted and meet him by the bar. He silently beckons you to follow him out to the horses.

“Figure we can take a stage,” he says, his voice flat.

“You sure? Why don’t we take the train? It’ll take half the time.”

“Because I want to,” he says quickly. He doesn’t go further as he leads you to the stage, the driver napping on his seat. Arthur dismounts and raps the carriage. “Hey!” he calls out when the driver doesn’t respond. He wakes up with a small snort.

“Huh, what?”

“You mind takin’ us to Strawberry?” Arthur says.

The driver rubs his eyes and yawns. “Sure, get in. Gonna be a trip.”

Arthur opens the stage door and gestures you inside, his face stony. Bowing your head, you climb in. Arthur takes the seat opposite of you, hiding his eyes beneath his hat. You clutch your hands as the stage begins moving; the driver urging the horses on.

The next few hours pass in almost complete silence. The nasty feeling in your stomach has grown. You begin to wonder if Arthur is planning on ending your relationship.

I told you, a nasty voice says. No one could ever love you.

Leaning back, you look out the window to the passing world beyond, wishing the voice would fall silent. It doesn’t.

He’s come to the same realization everyone eventually comes to. You’re not worth it, you’re not worthy of being loved. He’s going to break it off with you and forget this ever happened. He’s going to run back to Mary and they’ll be happy.

A tear finds its way out of the corner of your eye and you angrily wipe it away. If Arthur notices, he says nothing. You wish he would.

He doesn’t care about your pain, you stupid woman, that awful voice says again. No one has ever cared, why would he be any different? You were a fool for believing he loved you.

You suddenly wish you were alone in the stage, alone to show your weakness. Arthur still sits rigidly in the seat opposite you, his eyes hidden and his hands clasped. You lean your head against the wall near the window as more tears betray you. Why is he taking you to West Elizabeth to break up with you? Why couldn’t he have done it already? You close your eyes and will yourself to sleep as the horrible voice continues to whisper to you.

Arthur shakes you awake abruptly. “We’re here,” he says in a hollow voice. You sigh and follow him out of the stage, wishing he’d just get this over with already. You wonder, as you mount Rannoch, what you will do when you get back to camp. Should you leave? That would be the wrong choice. Just because Arthur’s breaking up with you doesn’t mean you have to lose the rest of your family. The thought of losing touch with Hosea, the other girls, even Grimshaw is too painful.

Arthur hops onto Artemis and wordlessly leads you east towards Big Valley. When the expanse of green lays ahead of you, he stops. “Figure we can hunt for a few hours,” he says. You nod, doing your best to keep your face blank. You kick Rannoch into a run without waiting for him and break out of the trees, the wind flying through your hair and the sun bathing your face. A sense of freedom comes over you as a herd of pronghorns dashes through the wildflowers. You pull Rannoch to a stop on the north end of the valley. Ahead of you, a large stag with proud antlers lifts his head from the river and runs towards the trees. The sight brings the memory of Arthur telling you about his strange dreams of stags, and the hollow feeling returns.

For the next few hours, you keep your distance from Arthur, hunting the pronghorn and even a moose to keep the horrible thoughts at bay. The sun’s beginning to set behind the giant mountain on the western border of the valley and Arthur stops Artemis near you as you finish skinning a pronghorn doe.

“Hey, let’s go to the lake,” Arthur says, leaning on his saddle horn. You look up and he offers you a small smile, his eyes bright again. You swallow and nod, your chest still heavy with doubts. After flinging the pelt across your horse, you get up and follow him down the trail into the forest.

“You’re real quiet,” he calls back to you, turning in his saddle to see you.

You’ve been buried in your own head and you look up to see him staring at you. Is that worry on his face?

“Oh, yeah,” you mumble, dipping your head again. You’re convinced he doesn’t want to hear anything going on in your head anymore.

“You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to,” he says, turning back to the trail. “I sure do like hearin’ your voice though.”

He’s lying, the voice says. You don’t respond, patting Rannoch’s neck.

Arthur stops on the trail, Lake Owanjilla lying ahead. The western sky has turned a brilliant pink, the ridges of the mountains burn gold. If you didn’t feel so miserable, you’d find it breathtaking.

“Here’s a good spot,” he mutters and dismounts.

“Here we go,” you mumble quietly so he doesn’t hear you. He leads you to the edge of the lake, hanging over the water. A clear, cold stream rushes into it on your left. You stand next to Arthur, awaiting the blow.

“Sure is a lot of beauty in this world,” he says, looking across the lake. An owl somewhere in the trees hoots. “You helped me see that.”

“I’ve done nothing, Arthur,” you say. You stare out across the water too.

“You’re wrong, darlin’,” he says. He turns his body to you and you look at him. He grabs your hands and smiles softly. “Ya know, the best thing I ever done was go into that sheriff’s in Blackwater, lookin’ for bounties. It lead me to you, even if my intentions were selfish. You done so much for me since I met you, I… I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

He places a palm on your cheek, wiping away a stray tear.

“I didn’t do anything,” you repeat, more tears leaking from your eyes.

“You taught me what love really feels like,” he says. “With Mary, there was always somethin’ I had to do to earn her love. You give it freely, and yours is so much more pure and powerful. It’s not that I didn’t love Mary when I was younger, it’s just that with you, it don’t matter no more. I love you more than anything and I… I can’t imagine a future without you.”

“What are you saying, Arthur?” you ask. You’d been expecting him to tell you anything other than what he’s saying now. Arthur takes his hands away and reaches into his satchel and he kneels down. Your heart stops as he shows you his upturned fist.

“I’m askin’ you if you’ll marry me, sweetheart?” he opens his hand and shows you a ring, an emerald set into the gold band. Your knees feel shaky as you begin to cry, your heart feeling as though it might burst. Arthur sighs and stands up, hiding the ring in his fist.

“Listen, darlin’, if you- if you don’t feel the same, I-.”

You cut him off. “Yes, Arthur. I will marry you.”

His face breaks into a massive smile and he grabs your hand, gently sliding it onto your finger. You stare at it for a moment before looking up at him. His own eyes seem watery and he pulls you into a tight hug, letting you bury your face into his chest, the horrible voice finally falling silent. His scent fills your nose and you breathe in deeply.

“Thank you, darlin’,” he sniffs as he rests his cheek against your head.

You look up and kiss him, placing your hand on his cheek. “I’ll always love you, Arthur Morgan.”

He grips your hand and kisses the ring on your finger. “I feel like the luckiest man alive.”

“I’m not exactly a prize, Arthur,” you joke.

“You are to me.”

You both watch silently as a massive eagle circles over the lake, finally dipping down to the water and plucking a fish with its talons.

“Come on,” Arthur says, patting your back. “Let’s get a fire going.” He guides you over to a wide spot of grass and begins a fire while you set up the tent. You sit down next to him and he immediately pulls you into his lap. You smile as the big cowboy cradles your head into his neck.

“How come you looked so miserable this mornin’, sweetheart?” he asks.

You huff a small laugh. “Ah, you’d think it was stupid.”

“Nah, I could never think that.”

“Well, I thought… I thought you were going to break things off this morning. You were so distant and unlike yourself.”

“I’m sorry, darlin’. I was scared.”

“Scared?” you look up at him. “I could never see you scared. How many times you been shot at?”

“This was different, darlin’,” he kisses your forehead. “I was terrified you were gonna say no.”

You pause, trying to think of a response.

“Why didn’t you?” he suddenly asks. “I thought after everythin’ you been through, marriage would be the last thing you’d ever want.”

You listen to his heartbeat for a moment. “Because I love you, Arthur. It’s not that I can’t imagine a future with you, it’s just that the possibility of that future ever happening is impossible.”

“Me too. But what I meant was why? You been married before, and we both know how awful it was. Why you willin’ to try again?”

“This is completely different from the last time, Arthur.” You turn so your back’s against his chest. He clasps his hands on your stomach. “Last time, none of it happened with my consent. He was a complete stranger to me. This time couldn’t be more different. A chance to have something normal for once.”

“Well, I’m glad you said yes,” he kisses your temple. “I don’t know what I woulda done if you didn’t.”

You smile and pat his hand. As night falls properly, you cook dinner and then Arthur takes you inside the tent. He makes love to you in a way he never has before. He worships your body, every flaw, every scar, every inch, and you do the same with him, leaving no part of him untouched.

The next morning, you wake to find Arthur sitting up and writing in his journal. You smile at him through tired eyes and roll over, placing your head in his lap. He chuckles and runs his fingers through your hair.

“Hey, darlin’.”

“Mm, Arthur.”

You sit in silence, enjoying the warmth radiating from his body, his fingers causing your skin to erupt in goose bumps. After a while, he pats your shoulder.

“We ought to get back to camp, sweetheart. Figure the others will wanna know.”

“Know what?” you look up at him.

He smiles, you see his slightly jagged tooth, which you secretly love. “Know your answer.”

You sit up, still looking at him. “The others knew you were gonna ask me?”

“Of course. Needed some advice. To be honest, when I first knew I wanted to marry you, I thought it would be too soon. We’re in a big mess right now, Pinkertons breathin’ down our necks. However, I don’t really see things gettin’ better any time soon.”

You nod, grabbing his hand. He squeezes yours.

“Hosea made me realize that if I felt ready to ask you, then it meant it was time.”

You smile and lean in, kissing him. His arms loop around you, holding you close and warming you against the morning’s chill.

“I’m glad you did. Can I admit something to you?” you say.

“Of course, darlin’. I want ya to know you can tell me anythin’.”

“I believed for a long time that I was gonna be alone forever. I’d never have anyone to depend on, never have someone I could trust the way I trust you.”

He kisses your forehead. “Well, I’m glad I could prove you wrong.”

You nuzzle into his neck, adoring the familiar scent of pine and leather that seems to emit from his skin. His hands rub your back gently and he begins to hum a tune you recognize. One of the horses snorts and you remember you can’t stay here forever, as much as you’d like to.

“Come on, cowboy,” you pat his chest. “Like you say, they’ll be wantin’ to hear.”

The two of you pack up camp quickly after a brief breakfast and some coffee. You ask Arthur if he wants to take the stage back to Saint Denis or Rhodes, but he says he wants to just ride back on the horses.

“That’ll take almost the whole day,” you say.

“I know, but it gives me the chance to be alone with you a little longer.”

You can’t help but smile, riding side by side with him. You adore the soft core he hides beneath his tough exterior.

It’s late afternoon by the time you see the trees surrounding the path that leads to Shady Belle. You pat Rannoch, he and Artemis are heavily laden with game and pelts that you’ve hunted on your way down.

“Who’s there?” Javier calls.

“Just us,” Arthur replies. He hitches up and you do the same. Just as you’re about to grab the pelts from Rannoch, three figures walk towards you. Dutch, Hosea, and Grimshaw march your way, looking as though they’ve just shared a joke.

“Well?” Dutch raises his arms expectantly. Arthur steps beside you, staring at them.

“Are we to call you Mrs. Morgan now?” Hosea asks, a proud smile stretched across his face.

You blush and grab Arthur’s hand. “Well, I suppose. We’re not married yet though.”

Grimshaw puts her hands on her hips and marches over to you. Expecting her to start yelling for disappearing again, you await her blow. Instead, she quickly grabs your left hand.

“I wanna make sure this man’s done right by you,” she says, inspecting the ring on your finger. She seems to approve and releases your hand, smiling. “You done good, Mr. Morgan.”

“Thank you, Miss Grimshaw.”

Dutch chuckles deeply and turns back to camp.

“Everyone. Everyone!” he hollers. Several of the gang come up to hear what he has to say. Arthur hooks your hand around his arm. You feel nervous, never having accepted compliments well.

“Tonight is a night for celebration! Arthur and Y/N are going to be married!”

Mary-Beth and Tilly clap, laughing loudly, Karen hollers out excitedly. Several of the men announce their congratulations, coming up to clap you and Arthur on the back. It makes you blush.

“Well, let’s celebrate properly then!” Uncle says, going to sit down by the fire. “Javier! Come play us somethin’!”

Despite being on guard duty, Javier complies. He sits down by the fire, his guitar in hand. “I know just the one to play tonight.”

Lenny and Mary-Beth grab you and Arthur, guiding you to the big log directly in front of the fire. You sit down, your hand still looped around Arthur’s arm as Javier tests a few strings. He finally clears his throat and begins playing. You recognize the first notes of the song you had sung for the gang back in Clemens Point, The Sweetheart Tree. It makes you smile wider as Arthur rocks gently back and forth.

When the song’s over, Jack runs over with strings of flowers in his hand. “I made these for you and Uncle Arthur!” he says, holding up the flower necklaces. Arthur chuckles and takes them, thanking him and putting one over himself and the other around your neck. Jack smiles proudly. “So she’s gonna be my aunt?”

“That’s right, kid,” Arthur says as he drapes an arm around your shoulder. Jack gives a small “yippee” and skips off. Arthur kisses your temple and gets up, heading off to Pearson’s wagon where several boxes of alcohol have been laid out. He’s immediately swarmed by Lenny, John, Bill and Karen. Hosea sits down close to you as Javier finishes his song. Grimshaw takes a seat, along with Mary-Beth.

“I’m real proud of you,” Hosea says, lighting his pipe. “Must have taken a lot of courage to say yes, after your last marriage.”

You smile and look into the fire. “It didn’t, actually. I wasn’t scared when he asked me. Surprised, but not scared.”

“Ah, you two were meant to be,” Mary-Beth says breathily.

“It’ll be good for him,” Grimshaw says. “Hopefully you can help him settle down a little. Give him something to keep him centered.”

“Oh, I doubt even I’ll be able to tame him,” you chortle. “Always been a man of the wild.”

Javier and Uncle pick up a song together and several of the others come over to join in. Hosea looks at you with a clever gleam in his eye.

“You ready for tomorrow?” he asks.

“What’s tomorrow?”

“The big bank job in town.”

“That’s tomorrow?” you say, a little louder than you had meant.

“Ah, must have forgotten to tell you. Sorry about that. Anyways, you, me and Abigail will take the stage coach ahead of the others and plant it a few blocks from the bank. You’ll need to wear something nice, make you look like an upper class lady.”

“Okay,” you say. You’ll have to ask one of the other girls if you can borrow something, not having any dresses aside from the one you wore to that awful party at the mayor’s mansion.

Dutch walks over, attracted by the mention of the bank job. “Now Hosea, before you get too excited about this, we need to smooth out the plan. Got a few wrinkles in it that are worryin’ me.”

“We will tomorrow, Dutch. Let us enjoy this night. Like you said, we’re celebratin’.”

As Javier begins playing a new tune, you look fondly over at Hosea. You call his attention.

“I know it might not be for a while,” you say as he looks at you. “But you’re the closest thing I’ve had to a proper father. Would… would you walk me down the aisle when Arthur and I get married?”

He smiles widely. “It would be my honor, Y/N.”

You grin at him, thanking him.

The party lasts for several hours. You and Arthur are forced to tell the story of how he asked multiple times. Some of the members, mainly Karen, Bill and Pearson drink themselves to the point of passing out. Arthur brings you a bottle of Caribbean rum, which you’ve never tried before. After half a bottle, you feel it getting to your head. You and Tilly both drunkenly try to play Domino with poor results. Lenny stands by the table, laughing as you drop a tile and try unsuccessfully to pick it up. Arthur stumbles over and screams, “Leeennaaaaaaayyyyy!”

“Oh God, Arthur!” Lenny hollers back. “Not again!”

Arthur guffaws as he stands next to you, taking a long drink from the bottle in his hand. You give up on the tile and stand up, draping your arms over his shoulders.

“Think…” you hiccup. “Think it’s time for bed, Mr. Morgan. I ain’t seen straight for an hour.”

“Okay, Mrs. Morgan,” he slurs, bending down to kiss you. You grab his hand and lead him towards the house, bidding the others good night. The walk seems much harder than usual as you and Arthur stumble over one another. When you’re finally in the house, he starts grabbing you, making you laugh.

“Room first,” you mumble. By the time you get upstairs and into your room, he practically rips your clothes off. You don’t even make it to the bed as Arthur lays you down, kissing every inch of skin he can reach. You rip his shirt open, glad to find he neglected to put on his union suit this morning as you run your fingers through his chest hair. He growls and nips your shoulder. As you reach down to remove his gun belt, you hear him mumble.

“I love you, Y/N Morgan. Lord knows how much I love you.”

You wake up with a terrible hangover. Arthur groans next to you on the floor, rubbing his head.

“God, I wanna die,” he mumbles.

“Me too. Why’d we drink so much?” you say. You’re about to roll over to kiss him when he shoots up, drapes a blanket around his hips and runs out on the balcony. You hear him retching so you heave yourself to your feet, dressing. Arthur comes back in, wiping his mouth clean, and begins to dress as well.

“Come on, cowboy,” you grab his hand. “Let’s try clearing our heads.”

You both stumble down the stairs, still holding hands. You wince as the morning sun hits your eyes. Arthur leads you over to the fire and pours you a coffee. The hot drink seems to do little to clear the headache and your stomach clenches painfully. You throw out your coffee and dash to the river just in time to vomit what’s left of the alcohol in your system.

Arthur walks up behind you, finishing his drink. When you stand up straight, he pulls you into his arms.

“I gotta go speak with Dutch and Hosea, figure out this bank job,” he says. You nod into his chest, your head still pounding. He guides you back over to Pearson’s wagon, grabbing you a canteen of water. You greedily drink as much as you can, then he does the same.

As Arthur heads to the house where Dutch and Hosea are talking, you head over to the crates where the other girls sit. You feel a little better as you sit down, picking up some sewing.

“So you two gonna get married quickly or you gonna be engaged a while?” Karen asks, her eyes bloodshot. She looks worse than you feel.

“I don’t know. We ain’t talked about it yet.”

“What about kids?” Tilly asks. “You gonna try havin’ ‘em as soon as you’re married or wait?”

This question causes you to pause. Arthur’s the only one who knows you’re barren. You’re not in the mood to disclose that to the others just yet.

“We’re probably gonna wait. Who knows what our situation might be like for the next little while? Ain’t the best idea to have kids until we know it’s a good time.”

“Well, be prepared for a lot of hard work,” Abigail says as she walks over with her coffee. “Much as I love my boy, it’s a thankless job.”

“Ain’t that sort of the point?” you ask. “I mean, why’s a kid gotta be grateful to his parents just for bein’ born? Ain’t like they asked for it.”

“Still,” she says. “You’d think after all I done for him, he’d at least be grateful.”

“Kids ain’t supposed to be grateful,” you say, returning to your sewing. “And they don’t see the world that way. I’m not sayin’ you should spoil the boy or make his life difficult, but it ain’t fair of you to expect so much from him, as much as you’d like him to.”

“You ain’t got kids,” Abigail finishes her coffee. “You don’t understand.” She walks away, muttering something beneath her breath.

The next few hours, you do chores around camp and your head clears. Hosea approaches you and Abigail in the middle of the day, suggesting you get ready. She heads off without a word; you ask one of the girls if you can borrow a dress. Arthur comes into the room just as you’re changing.

“You ready for this, darlin’?” he asks.

“Guess as much as I’ll ever be. Does Dutch know what he wants to do after this?”

“I dunno, he keeps talking about goin’ to Tahiti or Australia. I honestly don’t know the appeal of either one of ‘em, but I guess the Pinkertons won’t find us there.”

“What about heading back west like he talked about?”

Sighing, he sits down. “I don’t think that’s happenin’, darlin’. Wherever the train goes, the Pinkertons can get us.”

He begins changing into a suit you’ve never seen before. He tucks a blue puff tie into his patterned blue vest.

“Where’d you get that, Arthur? The suit?”

“Oh, Trelawney made me buy it for that river boat job. Do I look okay?” He fidgets with the buttons of his coat sleeve. You walk up and adjust his tie, smiling.

“You look very handsome. Not at all like some country man.”

“Well, I hope not. Now you know what to do?”

You swallow and nod. “Yes, once we set off the dynamite, Hosea’s gonna take us to the north end of Saint Denis, we’ll grab a wagon and meet you all back here.”

“Hopefully, much richer than we are now,” he smiles, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. “You be careful out there, darlin’. Don’t want you gettin’ hurt.”

“Nothing’s gonna happen to me. But promise me you’ll be careful? You’re guaranteed to be getting shot at.”

“Awe, I’ll be fine. Maybe we’ll get lucky and Micah will get shot.”

You giggle and push him out the door. “Don’t get my hopes up.”

As you walk outside, Dutch calls to Arthur. “You got everything?”

“Think so,” he says, straightening his sleeve.

“So,” Hosea says as he climbs onto the stage. You and Abigail get into the back. “We rob ourselves a bank and within six weeks, we’re living life anew a tropical idyll spending the last of our days as banana farmers?”

“Exactly,” Dutch says from the back of the Count. Arthur, John, Micah, Lenny and Javier mount their horses as Bill and Charles sit on one of the wagons.

“Let’s get out of this godforsaken place and go rob ourselves a bank!” Hosea yells out. The others holler and agree, Micah forces his horse to rear up. You suddenly get a flashback of Bison Point when Dutch and so many of the others had left in much the same manner to rob the ferry. A bad feeling settles into your stomach.

Hosea whips the horses and the stage charges out to the front of the line, causing you and Abigail to sway inside.

“This is it, gentlemen!” Dutch calls out behind the stage. “The very last one!”

“Where have we heard that one before?” John responds.

“What has happened to you, John? You lost all your heart.”

“I’m just trying to stay real about this.”

“‘Real’. How I detest that word,” Dutch says. “So devoid of imagination!”

“How soon we shippin’ out?” Micah asks.

Dutch begins talking about how he has a plan to get a boat organized and go down to South America.

“What about the money in Blackwater?” Micah demands.

“Forget that, it’s gone!” Dutch hollers. “You all talk like it’s the only goddamn money in the world. We’re gonna take it from the people who take it from us. This is a big city bank!”

“Right,” John shoots back. “With guards, security, police.”

“Hosea has done his reconnaissance, we’ve been over this.” He goes over the plan again, sounding frustrated yet determined. By the time he’s done, the stage is passing Calliga Hall.

“Hosea!” Dutch calls. “You know the drill. Any problems, meet us back in camp!”

Hosea whips the horses on, the stage speeds up and drives into the city. Hosea guides it carefully down the cobbled streets, navigating around other wagons and riders. He stops it on a narrow street a few blocks from the bank. You and Abigail get out as he climbs down.

“Alright, ladies,” he says quietly, clapping his hands. “Each of you stand on one end of the stage, keep an eye out while I light her up.”

You walk with him towards the back of the stage and stand on the sidewalk, looking around for potential witnesses. Hosea reaches into the back lockbox and pulls out a tied bundle of dynamite. He quickly places it inside the stage.

“Hold on,” you say, spotting a man and woman walking across the street at the end of it. Hosea pauses and watches them. Luckily, they take no notice of your party and walk on, disappearing around the building. “Okay, clear.”

“We’re good on this end, Hosea,” Abigail says.

“Alright, act quickly, ladies. Once I light this thing, we only have a few seconds to get down that alley and be gone.” He gestures to the alley between the two buildings the stage sits in front of.

“We’re ready, Hosea,” you say.

He lights a match and touches it to the wick, which begins sparking.

“Now!” Hosea whispers. You and Abigail hastily follow him down the alley, trying to get away from the stage as quickly as possible without looking suspicious. As you reach the center of it, the stage explodes, the rubble clattering around the street. It’s immediately followed by screams, yells, horses neighing, a whistle blows.

“Ladies, I think we’re done here,” Hosea says. He ushers you both down the alley in front of him, heading down towards the other street. You’re hoping the others are having as much luck as you when someone painfully grabs your arm. You’re suddenly slammed into the brick wall and Agent Milton, the Pinkerton, points the barrel of his pistol inches from your face. You hear Abigail get pushed into the wall and look over to see Ross pinning her. Several other Pinkerton agents and policemen stand behind him.

Hosea lifts his hands, shocked, and is about to speak when Milton interrupts him. “Mr. Matthews! We received word you and your gang of delinquents would be here, but we doubted you’d really be so foolish to rob the bank. Looks like our informant was right.”

“Mr. Milton,” Hosea says, his eyes sparkling cleverly. “We have no business here other than to enjoy the day in this lovely city.”

“And the fact that you just left the street where a wagon exploded is nothing more than a mere coincidence? I doubt that.”

Hosea takes a step towards him. “Mr. Milton, we’ve no quarrel with you. We are on the verge of leaving, we’ll never be your problem again after today.”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for that, Mr. Matthews! I’ve given you all how many chances to go and live as better men, but you’ve done nothing but laugh in my face.”

Milton pushes his hand against your throat, pulling the hammer of his pistol down. You grab his hand on your throat, Arthur’s ring glinting on your finger as Milton’s finger twitches on the trigger.

“Wait!” Hosea says, stepping close to him. “Take me, not her. Give her and the other girl a five minute head start, I’ll go with you quietly.”

“Hosea, no!” you choke.

“Quiet, Y/N!” he says, not breaking eye contact with Milton.

“You’ll show me where the others are?” Milton demands. “No lies?”

“No lies. Just promise me you’ll let these two have a chance.”

Milton hesitates. His finger brushes against the trigger, his hand on your throat tightens painfully. Finally, he lifts the hammer and points the gun at Hosea.

“You heard the man, Ross. Let the girl go.”

Hosea sighs heavily and keeps his hands up as Milton approaches him. He grabs him by the collar and points the barrel at his head, standing behind him. Milton glares at you.

“We had a deal, Ms. Y/L/N. You have five minutes, don’t think I won’t try to find you.”

“Hosea, no!” you scream as Abigail grabs your hand and yanks you away. You try fighting her off.

“Get out of here, Y/N!” Hosea calls. “You have a wedding to attend!”

“No!”

Abigail wrenches your arm painfully as she pulls you down the street. “He’ll be fine, Y/N,” she hollers back at you, sounding hysterical. “Hosea always finds a way out.”

You run with her, trying to keep the tears at bay. You look back and find the Pinkertons gone, along with Hosea, although a few policemen mill about, screaming at one another.

Abigail leads you over a few blocks. You don’t pay attention to where she’s taking you, all you know is you’re farther from the bank than before. Just as you hope that Arthur and the others will be okay, you hear a faint gunshot. The sound brings you to a halt and you turn in its direction, a horrible feeling in your gut. The air is suddenly filled with the cracks of guns from the distance, echoing off the buildings. The city has turned to chaos.

You’re just about to charge into the street in the direction of the fight when Abigail grabs your shoulders, pulling you back. A wagon with a policeman standing behind a gatling gun roars past you, the wheel nearly catching your dress.

“We need to get out of here!” Abigail yells as policemen and Pinkertons flood the streets. One of the Pinkertons points to the pair of you, whipping his gun out. Your five minutes are up. Abigail yelps and grabs your hand, dashing off down a thin alley just as the Pinkerton shoots his gun at you, the bullet plunges into the brick wall of a building. The alley winds and leads into a small plaza, a broken fountain sitting in the middle. You see not too far beyond the next street, which is swarming with more policemen as the gunshots continue to ring out.

“I don’t think we can get out!” you scream at Abigail over the blasts. “We should hide! One of the buildings.”

Without thinking, you dash over to a door facing the plaza, kicking it open. An elderly black woman screams, falling backwards onto her kitchen floor. Abigail slams the door shut after you, slightly dulling the ringing of gunfire. The woman doesn’t move and you bend down, trying to wake her, thinking she fainted. She doesn’t respond and you feel her throat, finding no pulse. She must have suffered a heart attack.

You and Abigail quickly inspect the house, finding too many windows for your comfort at the front of it. The back where the old lady died only has one window, a narrow staircase leads to the upper floor.

“Should we go up there?” you whisper. The gunfire still echoes through the city outside.

“No, we might get trapped,” Abigail says. “Let’s just stay here in the kitchen, it’s blocked from the front of the house.”

“Help me move her then,” you say, gesturing to the old woman. You both pick her up and lay her on a couch in the front room. She looks as though she could be napping. Heading back into the kitchen, you both sit on the floor and away from the single window, praying no one will find you.

Several hours have passed, the gun shots have finally stopped. The city lies dark and unusually quiet except for the splashing of the torrential downpour. You would have left the city by now, except constant patrols of Pinkertons and policemen roam the streets. You and Abigail have been checking the front windows overlooking the street every half hour or so, finding no citizens or anyone else. The city must be on lockdown, meaning the others must be in it still. You pray for the thousandth time that everyone’s alright and you’ll see them in a day or two back at Shady Belle.

While waiting, you and Abigail raided the old woman’s closets to find new clothes. You slip on a pair of trousers that look as though they belonged to a teenage boy.

Abigail comes back from checking the front. “Think this is as quiet as it’s gonna get tonight, let’s try sneakin’ out now.”

You sigh and nod. “Sure, this rain should help cover us.”

You sit up, shaking your leg, which has fallen asleep. Once it’s steady, you open the back door leading to the small plaza with the broken fountain. You sneak out, hunching slightly and letting the rain soak you. The plaza’s clear. Just as you’re about to make a break for the other side, something big slams into you. Abigail covers your mouth just as you scream. You both look over and see a familiar face.

“Charles!” you hiss. “What happened?!”

“I’ll explain later,” he mutters. “We need to get out of here. Follow me.” Without another word, he guides you out of the alley and onto the street. He checks constantly as he runs slowly down the street. Through the rain, the form of a wagon appears, two horses patiently hitched to it. You see the words “Saint Denis Police” painted on the side. You point it out to Charles and the three of you run towards it.

Charles opens the door and looks inside, finding nothing but a police man’s hat and coat in it. He’s about to put them on when you slap his shoulder.

“Let me drive us out of here. You’re too recognizable.”

Charles nods and you put on the coat, tucking your hair in underneath the hat. He and Abigail get into the carriage, slamming the door shut. Climbing up, you pray this will work. You click and flick the reins, trotting the horses on. Looking down at your feet, you spot a rifle. You hope you won’t have to use it as you navigate your way down the street.

You spot several policemen and a few groups of Pinkertons wandering the streets, yelling to one another over the rain. One officer beckons to you.

“You find anything?” he hollers.

Putting on your best masculine voice, you respond. “Nothing!”

He nods and continues on his way. You drive onto the large street near the train tracks, passing another police carriage. You sigh heavily as you drive down the bridge, heading away from the city. Once you’re off the bridge, you bring the carriage to a stop and hop down, ripping off the coat and hat. Charles and Abigail get out and you all decide it’s best to travel on foot back to camp.

For the next hour, Charles leads you through the swamp. He doesn’t say a word about the events that transpired, nor do you and Abigail ask. The rain begins to let up just as Shady Belle comes into view.

“Charles!” Karen yells, holding the repeater as she keeps guard. “What the hell happened?”

Charles beckons her to follow as you and Abigail go into camp. Grimshaw, Sadie and the others come into the middle of camp, greeting him expectantly.

“Mr. Smith,” Grimshaw demands. “What has happened? We were expecting you all back hours ago! Where are the others?”

Charles shakes his head sadly. He looks around. Everyone’s staring at him, worried expressions on their faces.

“Hosea and Lenny are dead. The others found their way onto a boat. I… I don’t know if they’ll be coming back.”

#red dead fanfic #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #arthur morgan #arthur x reader #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x female reader #R* Games #rockstar games #Van Der Linde Gang #I'm awkward #second chances

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