#Jack Marston

[rip-van-milton]

This artwork is so wholesome and adorable ❤️

Made by InspectorValvert on deviantart

[the-sneep-snoop]

[dalekofchaos]

The worst thing about what Ross did to the Marstons?

Arthur's sacrifice was for nothing. Jack is alone on a purpose-built farm for a profession he knows nothing about, never wanted to pursue, and is cursed with nothing but terrible memories. The farm is eerily empty and silent. John is dead. Abigail is dead. Uncle is dead. Rufus is dead. Jack has no home, no family and no will to live.

Jack destroyed any future he had and gave into revenge and all that's left for him, is the life of an outlaw. The life that his father and mother worked hard to keep him from that path.

Sure Jack's alive but what does he have left? No friends, no family, no motivation, no home etc and above all else 3 witnesses that know he was looking for Edgar Ross shortly before Ross died meaning he could be hunted down since he’s now an outlaw, which is something Arthur, John, Uncle and Abigail fought to avoid.

The ending is absolutely soul-crushing when viewed from the bigger picture, and it stirs my emotions, especially after playing both games and absorbing the stories.

[marstonsboy]

had another evil thought that spiralled out of control. indulge me for a moment:

over the years, people start arriving on a near empty plot of land west of blackwater. it’s uncertain who got there first: bessie matthews, beatrice and lyle morgan, eliza, isaac morgan, etc.— but more and more people show up until it’s something of a community. jenny kirk, mac and davey callander. then soon after, jake adler, sean macguire, kieran duffy, hosea matthews, lenny summers, molly o’shea, eagle flies, susan grimshaw. more and more in such a short amount of time. arthur morgan is the last, and suddenly the deaths stop.

after a sudden stretch of years with little newcomers, a house starts taking shape. soon enough the house is a home, and peculiar things can be found all over: a dog barking where no one can find it. echoes of campfire songs going late into the night. photos of john and abigail’s wedding, attended by what remained of their family. a taxidermy squirrel that appears back on the mantle no matter how many times you throw it out, wearing a very familiar hat. in just a few years a heartbreakingly young girl comes home, bearing a strong resemblance to one abigail marston.

then, gunshots. john marston and uncle are the next to arrive.

in the next few years, the house is eerily quiet. the residents see it falling into disrepair, but they can’t do anything about it. the dog stops barking, the campfire has gone cold and won’t relight. abigail marston is next, and though they’re happy to see her, the arrival brings up a question. what happens to jack now?

the livestock are gone, and the house is dusty, all but stripped of the knickknacks and personality that built up over the years, like someone found it all too painful to look at. john’s hat and guns, once tucked away inside a box beneath the bed, vanish the night after abigail arrives. newspapers come to the door, announcing the death of former government agent edgar ross.

soon after, a wanted poster, bearing the name “john marston jr.” and a sketch resembling the boy’s namesake so much that it has john himself stumbling back. jack was only a boy when he left, and now he’s wanted dead or alive, with a price over his head that could rival some of his uncles and aunts back in the day.

every year that passes without any sign of jack is a relief. the house doesn’t change much, still abandoned, but letters come in. mary-beth gaskill, tilly jackson, simon pearson, sadie adler, charles smith— old friends and family, checking in on him. none of them reach the recipient, as he is not home, but they’re filled to the brim with love, letting him know that he isn’t alone. that he always has a home with them, if he wants it.

one day, john spots a book he doesn’t recognize on the shelf by the piano, and he stops. “Red Dead” by a J. Marston. it doesn’t take much to figure out who that could be. he opens it, flips through, and reads it to abigail. the kinder parts get read to their daughter, ecstatic to learn about how her older brother is doing. their son did become a writer after all, even if everything he’s written speaks volumes of his grief, his anger. the loneliness he’s endured since losing his family, and killing edgar ross.

arthur morgan opens his old journal to find several entries and sketches from john, but also many new ones from jack. his handwriting is just as clumsy as his father’s, but his drawings are more refined. little portraits of the gang members that lived and scribbly sketches of what the world is becoming in their absence decorate the pages. war, cars outnumbering horses, and a very detailed drawing of a revolver none of them have ever seen before.

he’s all grown up, and good lord is he angry. he’s mourning, and hurt, and he’s lost so much, but he’s still undoubtedly jack marston. he draws dogs and writes about missing rufus, slipping strays some food from his bag whenever he sees them. sometimes he’ll write a dry, sarcastic joke that speaks of his father’s influence, or mention missing his momma’s cooking, “even though it was hardly edible,” which makes abigail roll her eyes. he hates fishing and prefers to lose hours of the day with his nose in a book. the best maintained part of beecher’s hope is the graves on that hill, which gain new flowers every week. sometimes, if they listen close, they can hear him talking, telling his ma and pa what he’s been up to, though he saves the grisly details for his book.

and when jack marston finally does walk through that door, much older than when anyone he knew last saw him but far too young to die, he is welcomed home with open arms. because no matter what he’s done, and no matter how much he may hate himself, he will always have a home here with people who love him, and who can’t wait to get to know him all over again.

[iicaru2]

ruined my own day just now by remembering that, upon finding her husband’s corpse riddled with bullets in front of their home, abigail immediately went to feel for a heartbeat despite it being genuinely impossible for him to have survived that, and her sixteen-year-old son was the one who had to pull her away from john’s body while she sobbed and desperately tried to find any sign of life

[hihomeghere]

Right Person, Wrong Time Part two / John Marston x f!reader

Summary : You’ve tried to pretend that night with John never happened. But you can’t ignore him for much longer, especially not when Abigail asks you to talk to him

Word count : 2k

Warnings/tags : Cursing, reader is pushed against a tree, angst that leads to fluff, platonic Abigail x reader, John x reader, graphic mention of sex, mention of past pregnancy (not readers), John’s a deadbeat dad, alcohol, past Abigail x John, let me know if I missed any

not proof-read, I'm lazy

Divider by @saradika

“You make him better, ya know?” Abigail’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. Almost making you drop your gun as you ran the oiled rag over the barrel. 

“Pardon?” You asked, turning to glance at her. She still wasn’t looking at you, instead her gaze was affixed to Jack as he sat in the grass.

“You make him… I don’t know- just better.” She said with a small shrug.

“Jack?” You asked furrowing your brows as you looked over at Jack before back at her.

“No- Christ I’m not talking about Jack.” She huffed, exasperated that you hadn’t managed to read through the lines. “I’m talking about John.”

Oh. You pursed your lips, running the rag up and down the barrel, not saying a word.

“Don’t know how you could think that.” You muttered, shame creeping up your neck along with a deep fuchsia. 

“Really?” She asked, raising a brow, “Well I-“ she let out a sound between a scoff and a sigh. “Course you weren’t around when he got bad.” She said, shaking her head. 

“What do you mean?” You asked, setting your revolver down next to you. Turning to face her head on.

“When you left he… he would just sulk. Walking around, moping, picking fights.” She listed off, rolling her eyes. “Hell, the only time he wasn’t baring his teeth like a damn dog was when…” She trailed off, her lips a thin line. It didn’t take a genius to know what she was alluding to. You didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. John had acted like Abigail was the moon and stars before you had run off. To think that he actually missed you. That was near unbelievable.

You scuffed the toe of your boot against the dirt, painfully aware of the silence stretching between the two of you. “Then I got pregnant and then Jack was born. I thought… I thought he might- he might’ve come to terms with being a father once he was actually here.” She scoffed, shaking her head. “But he was never the same after you left.” She said, her voice taking on a melancholy tone as her blue eyes met yours. 

“Abigail, he’s an idiot alright?” You started, shaking your head. Trying to hold onto your breakfast as your stomach churned. “The damn fool probably realized what he’d been missing out on-“ She cut you off by barking out a laugh.

“Don’t go trying to sell me shit, telling me it’s ’chocolate cake’.” She shook her head. “It ain’t me or the boy that’s suddenly turned his disposition around, it’s you.” 

You looked away from her, your eyes on Jack as he played.

“Abigail-“

“No. You listen to me.” She said, grabbing your hands, her grip ironclad. “You’re the only damn person in this gang that he gives the time of day.” She sighed, shaking her head. “I just- maybe you could talk to him about Jack?” She asked, tilting her head to meet your eyes. “The boy needs his father.” She squeezed your hands, and your heart clenched in response. “If not for me… then for Jack?”

What the hell were you supposed to say, no?

“Yeah… yeah okay.” You nodded, sighing through your nose.

“Ya mean it?” She asked, a smile tugging at her lips, “Oh, thank you.” She pulled you into a hug, squeezing you tight.

“Alright, alright.” You chuckled, gently pushing her away. “I’ll talk to him.”

If you weren’t such a damn chicken you would have done it that second. But you were just as much of a coward as he was. Poetic, wasn’t it?

A week had passed since the incident. The incident where you came on his cock, his seed still dripping out of you as you ordered him out of your tent. The moment you had dreamt of for years, became your biggest nightmare. Your stomach flip-flopping every time his eyes met yours from across camp. You could never escape it, escape him.

When you saw him push the hair back from his face, all you could think of was how it felt through your fingers. How his lips felt against yours, on your neck. How his teeth felt digging into the column of your throat.

You were pathetic. On top of all of that you had gone right back to being Abigail’s friend, when you had betrayed her in the worst way possible. You were no better than him, returning to her with your tail behind your legs. The only difference between you and John, is that she didn’t know the atrocity you had committed against her, against Jack. Sure, they weren’t together anymore, but it didn’t make you feel any better.  

So maybe that’s why you were doing this for her, as some atonement for your transgressions. The sun was slowly setting as you walked through camp, your stomach tied in knots as you looked for John. You found him near the campfire, pulling a bottle up to his lips as Javier played the guitar. His melodic voice carried through the camp, even if you couldn’t understand what he was saying, it was beautiful.

You could feel John’s eyes boring into you as you glanced over at Javier before turning your attention back to him.

As your eyes met, it was like a crack of lightning. The air suddenly turned charged between the two of you.

“Can I talk to you John?” You asked, sighing deeply.

“No.” He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he brought the bottle to his lips, taking a long drink. You cringed as the liquor overflowed out of his mouth, running down his chin. He coughed, wiping away the liquid with the back of his hand. 

“You serious?” You scoffed, crossing your arms as you glared at him.

“Yeah.” He grumbled, narrowing his eyes as he reclined in his chair. Spreading his legs as the bottle hung loosely from his fingers. 

“Are you already drunk?” You asked, narrowing your eyes..

“Does it matter?” He huffed, rolling his eyes. Clearing his throat before bringing the bottle back to his lips. You clenched your jaw, his words igniting a fire in your belly. You stalked over to him, grabbing the bottle out of his hands.

“What the hell?” He growled, jumping to his feet as he tried to take the bottle out of your grasp. If he hadn’t been inebriated, you wouldn’t have stood a chance.

You held it out of his grasp, pushing him backwards. “Stop.” You huffed, not breaking eye contact.

“Fine. I didn’t want it anyway.” He threw his hands up in the air, beginning to stumble away from you and the fire. You sighed, rolling your eyes as you set the bottle down in the dirt before following after him. 

“John!” You called, chasing after him as he walked farther away from camp and further into the nearby trees. “John, stop!” You started to jog, losing sight of him.

He moved out from the darkness. His hands fisting the collar of your shirt, as he pushed you back up against a tree. 

“What do you want, huh?” He growled, his body a hard line against yours. ”Now you want to talk after you’ve been walking round camp, fucking torturin’ me?” He stepped closer, caging you in further against the tree. You wrinkled your nose at the smell of the liquor on his breath. 

“The hell you talking about?” You huffed, pushing back against him.

“You, damn it!” He huffed, his eyes narrowing into slits as he slammed you back up against the tree. 

“Get off of me!” You growled, glaring up at him.

“You wanted to talk, let’s fucking talk.” He held your body to the tree before he let go, stumbling backwards. “You’re the one who wanted to talk so damn bad so talk.” Your body finally caught up with your mind as you moved towards him.

“What difference would it make, you probably won’t remember this in the morning, too piss drunk.”

“Yeah? Well I remember that night.” He snarled, crowding in on you. “You can go around pretending like it didn’t mean nothin’, like I didn’t mean nothin’.” You swallowed thickly, heat flooding your cheeks.

“That ain’t what happened-“

“Then what the hell did happen?” He shouted, throwing his hands up. They fell to his sides as he stared at you. “I… Christ I know I messed up before but I… I can’t go round pretendin’ like nothing happened that night.” He sighed, his anger replaced by something more somber.

”You… you have a family, John.” He sighed, sitting down on a nearby stump, his head in his hands. 

“You think I don’t know that?” He asked, raising his head.

“You sure don’t act like it.”

“You don’t know how damn hard it is.” He huffed, shaking his head. “I don’t- Abigail is a good woman but she ain’t the one for me. Jack- well he deserves someone who knows how to be a father, a better man.” He muttered, running a hand down his face.

“You’re that man, John.” You sighed, “Sure, you were a fool and a coward-“ He glared up at you, “but you came back. Now, you just have to try.”

“It’s not that simple.” He muttered, shaking his head. “It’s- everything used to be so damn easy.” He ran his hand down his face. ���Before- before you left.”

You pursed your lips, crossing your arms as you looked down at your boots. 

“Now Abigail and you are always mad at me and… and now there’s Jack.” He sighed trailing off, “I just- I want things to go back to the way they were.” He said, his eyes finding yours in the pale light of the moon. Your heart clenched uncomfortably as you swallowed past the lump in your throat.

“It can’t.” You sighed, walking over to him. “But that doesn't mean it can’t get better.” You said, offering him a weak smile. He stared up at you, his brows pulled together tightly. “Things aren’t ever gonna be the way they were. That’s just life.” You said with a small shrug, “We made our decisions and we gotta live with them.”

“I shoulda’ chose you.” He mumbled, lowering his gaze.

“But you didn’t.” You said sitting down next to him, “And now we got Jack, and he is one of the best if not the best kid there is.” You smiled, nudging his shoulder. He ran his hand down his face again, rubbing at the stubble on his cheek.

“He gets it from his mother.” He sighed, looking up at you.

“He’s got a good chunk of you in him, Marston. The best parts.” You said, “Hasn’t learned all the asshole traits you possess yet.”

“Shut up.” He chuckled, rolling his eyes. The two of you sat together in comfortable silence, looking up at the star filled sky. 

“Did you miss me,” You asked, not daring to look over at him, “when I left?” You bit your cheek, waiting for his response.

“Course I did.” He said softly, looking over at you. “Every day.” You swallowed thickly, your eyes moving from his to his lips. Before you could second guess yourself, you moved forward, pressing your lips to his. His hands immediately moved to cup your cheeks, pulling you closer to him. You held onto each other as though the other would fade away into the darkness that surrounded you. The taste of whiskey invaded your senses as he slipped his tongue into your mouth, claiming you for his own. 

The two of you slowly broke apart, resting your foreheads against each other. 

“I gotta talk to Abigail.” He mumbled, letting out a small sigh. 

“Yeah you do.” You said, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear.

“You ain’t gonna pretend this didn’t happen tomorrow right?” He asked after a moment, a sense of vulnerability in his tone. 

“No way in hell, Marston.” You chuckled, nudging your nose against his. “You gonna remember this tomorrow?” You quipped. 

“Don’t know how I could ever forget this, darlin’.”

[moonlightkitties]

Finished rdr1 and watching the credits rn and I can't believe that Jack became everything John and Abigail didn't want him to be.

Angry, Revengeful and Alone.

[flo-zoinks]

Headcanons for if you followed them around camp but you were crawling and trying to bite their ankles :)

Chlo you are the weirdest omg 😭 suree

WHAT WOULD HAPPEN IF YOU FOLLOWED EACH RDR2 GANG MEMBER AROUND CAMP CRAWLING TRYNNA BITE THEIR ANKLES💀 (MY OPINION)

(Again here assuming you're like John in terms of likability and age/gender because will responses differ greatly)

Arthur - give you evils and say "what the hell is wrong you? Get away from me" tells whoever you're closest to, eg hosea or Grimshaw to get you back in line before leaving camp because his mood is now ruined

Hosea - stop and just tell you to get up because you you look like a prize idiot, "more then already atleast"

Dutch - grab your shoulder and bring you to your feet then shove you outta camp, then rant for 5 minutes to whoever listens that society is destroying sane minds

Charles - "stop it. That's weird" looks at you weirdly and probably kick you if he had to just so you stop

Sadie - grab her shotgun and hit you HARD with the back end of it, then kick your ur ass shouting curses

Molly - runs to Dutch. Dutch probably would just tell you to get up cuz you look stupid but then scold her after for bothering him with such "trivial matters" because "obviously it was just in good fun"

Pearson - shout out like a child, try and use his cooking tools as weapons and back away from you aiming them. After it's over says he was holding himself out from unleashing his anger in camp

Trelawny - ridicule your weird behaviour very sarcastically but walk quite a lot faster trynna play it cool like he's not a bit frightened by your activity

Javier - "HIJO DE PUTA QUE ESTÁS HACIENDO 😨". Starts kicking you until your down then just continues until you promise you won't do it again. Probably helps you back up again just to threaten you with a knife

John - look at you disgusted and immediately pulls out his shotgun aiming at you until you stop

Karen - throws whatever shes holding at you (probably a beer bottle) and curse you for being a freak

Tilly - runs towards Arthur or Javier whilst hurling insults at you calling you a sick freak

Abigail - assume it's a weird perv thing then run away to suddenly stop and kick you when you don't expect it. Then tell John to make sure Jack doesn't go near you

Micah - "are you down there to practice begging me for kindness...heh..." (heavy breathing). If it wasnt Micah it would be assumed they are trying to creep you until you just stand up and be normal. If you're a minority he says "didn't know (slur) did that too what did I expect huh"

Jack - run away screaming into Abigail's, Hosea's, Dutch's, Arthur's or John's arms. Probably starts crying then later when you're sleeping throws rocks at you for revenge

Bill - "WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING I'M NOT INTO THAT STUFF" backs away almost running backwards with his gun pointed at you

Uncle - forgets he has lumbago and runs across camp trying to get you to attack someone else. Probably hides behind John and says to you something like "surely you'd prefer this one, sure he needs a bit more meat on him, but take him take him!!"

Mary-Beth - throws her book at you and runs to Arthur for help, or Karen. Thinks you're possessed.

Sean - thinks it's a game so joins you to chase after Kieran, then blames you when he gets told off for starting it

Lenny - "what the hell.." kicks you once then pulls you up. Gives you a lecture after on respectable behaviour

Grimshaw - just stops and grabs you by the ear up on your feet, then smacks you. Tells you off and then drags you out of camp, especially if you did it near the girls she doesnt take bs

Kieran - backs away, runs away, shouting he's not an O'Driscoll. Probably hides further from the edge of camp for the next day but on the bright side everyone thinks your funny, if not a little weird, except Mary-Beth ofc

Reverend - thinks you're possessed, tells you bible verses, throws water on you, then runs away and drinks away whatever tf he just saw

Strauss - he is NOT surviving that again.. he has no chance in these headcanons ever

Alr yall tell me who I forgot!! Thanks for the heacanon you sucha weirdo😭. ALSO CHLO BOO U STARTED SOMETHING BC NOW MY INBOX IS JUST CRAZY FUNNY HEADCANONS OMG

[ttusyaart]

MY NAME IS JOHN MARSTON💥💥💥

(Insomnia at 3 am has consequences)

[ihadatinyturtle]

Fylgjur / Stag, Wolf, and Raven

Well, my first RDR fanart isn’t what I thought it would be, but I’m still happy with it. I was thinking a lot about Arthur, John, and Jack, and the animals I associate with them, and this was what I ended up making.

The lyrics I ended up writing in to fill in some negative space are from Greta Van Fleet’s song “Stardust Chords” which I ended up listening to on repeat while finishing this up.

[strawberrymilkcart]

0 rizz at a new years party

also...bonus of jack + francis alone (edit: added birthmark to chibi to recongize francis)

[velveteenoutlaw]

Horsemen, Apocalypses

[roundworm1111]

[timare0]

pictures for ask ?? idk.

[nanaloopsy]

“i always was a good thief.”

art by Liam W. (@V762cas on twitter & @V762art on tiktok)

[abovesn4kes]

Totally forgot to post the rest of these designs here! More to follow soon :-)

Doodles below!