#Jack going to find Sadie will never NOT make me emotional | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ttuesday · 4 years ago

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How would the VDL gang comfort/cuddle you if you had a bad day?

also have this fluffy foal 🐴

yay I love fluffy foal!!!! Since we all have bad days, I decided to do a little more than usual for this one so yeah this’ll probably be longer than usual :)

Arthur

-> The second Arthur sees you, he knows something went wrong but he waits until you’re away from the others to talk to you. In a low voice, Arthur asks if you want to go somewhere private before guiding you to his tent or to the outskirts of camp.

-> He doesn’t mind if you don’t tell him what’s bothering you or what made today so terrible. Without saying a word, Arthur wraps his arms around you and pulls you into a tight hug.

-> He slowly starts to stroke your hair and tell you that no matter what the problem is, you’ll figure it out.

-> Arthur reminds you of how strong you are and asks if you want to go do something with him tomorrow, whether that be robbing a stagecoach or drinking in a saloon or just going for a ride along the Heartlands. Whatever you want to do, Arthur will go along with it.

Dutch

-> Dutch asks to speak to you in his tent, pretending he needs your opinion on some upcoming robbery but when he closes his tent off to the others, he lets out a sigh and gives you a sympathetic smile.

-> “Want to talk about it?” he asks, sitting next to you on his bed. He understands if you stay quiet, not too sure of how to explain your bad day.

-> Dutch opens his mouth to say a quote from Evelyn Miller he thinks you might find interesting but he hesitates. He knows quotes won’t help right now and so instead he shuffles closer to you, putting his arm around your waist.

-> He’ll let you cuddle into him and he won’t move an inch until you’re feeling a little bit better, even if that takes all night.

Charles

-> Charles doesn’t really know what to do or say. But he believes that some times you don’t need words.

-> Whether you want to sit by the campfire or away from the centre of camp, Charles stays by your side. He knows you probably have some thinking to do so he stays quiet, a comfortable silence falling over ye.

-> Of course if you want to talk or rant, Charles will listen intently, taking in every word you say and every expression you make. And if there’s anything he can do to help, he instantly suggests it to you.

Bill

-> Bill isn't great with words. Everyone knows that. So don't expect him to give you this great motivational speech that will give you high hopes and make you feel like you a superhero.

-> Chances are Bill will just start rambling about something random like how he’s thinking of buying a new saddle for Brown Jack or how he found a piece of chocolate in his beard the other day.

-> His ramblings are a good distraction and Bill has no problem if you want to lean against him as he continues to talk. He’s very warm and cozy so it makes sense if you fall asleep on him.

Javier

-> Javier will try his absolute best to make you feel better. He spends the evening comforting you as best he can and if you still feel bad, he’ll suggest the two of you go on a job.

-> He knows of a homestead you can both rob, it’s easy pickings and he hopes it will help you focus on something and lift your spirits.

-> Who knows, maybe ye can spend the night there to have a break from everything. Javier will spend the night spooning you and whispering his favourite things about you into your ear... though he might ask to be the baby spoon at some point during the night.

Micah

-> Micah suggests that you have a drink with him in the hopes that’ll make your day a bit better. As you sit down at one of the tables at camp, Micah brings over a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.

-> He can be very blunt so don’t expect a lot of great comfort or immaculate advice but he will listen to everything you say. Even if he acts like he isn’t listening, believe me, he is.

-> Towards the end of the night when he’s feeling a little more confident than usual (thank u alcohol) he’ll offer you a comfortable seat on his lap. Really he just wants to cuddle in the hopes it’ll lift both of ye’re moods.

John

-> John can be kinda hopeless in situations like this. He’s very awkward but if you need a hug or someone to talk to or a cuddle, then he’s happy to help.

-> If you start to cry, there’s a possibility John will die of awkwardness because he doesn’t know what to do or how to react. His brain may go into shutdown mode.

-> but he will stay there with you for as long you want him there. And he’ll try his best to make you smile again, whether it be with a cuddle, kiss or his dry sense of humour.

Sean

-> Sean's angry. Not at you, he could never truly be mad at you, but Sean presumes your bad day is someone's fault. Before you can explain why you've had a bad day, Sean's loading his revolver and whistling Ennis over so he can go shoot whoever has upset you.

-> If you want him to go kill someone then off he'll go on his mission but if you need him by your side, he can do that too. Because this is Sean, he basically clings to you as he fusses over you.

-> This man will spend the entire night giving you kisses, cuddles, maybe something more *wink wink*. He’ll give you the best advice he can think of and whatever else you need in the moment.

Lenny

-> Lenny hates it when you've had a bad day. He never wants to see you upset or sad, it breaks his heart to see you like that.

-> He gives you a long hug, slightly swaying from side to side. He's also really eager to help you in anyway he can. Want to go on a job to take your mind off it? Let's go. Need someone to tell you you’re an amazing person? He's confident he'll do a great job at that.

-> Be warned though, Lenny can be an emotional fella. So if you start crying, he might start crying too just because you're crying.

Uncle

-> Everyone knows Uncle likes to joke around. When things get tough, he likes to make a joke and laugh about it.

-> So when he heard you had a bad day, he tried to lighten the mood with some jokes. He makes jokes about himself, your shitty day, anyone who passes by and Dutch's speeches.

-> If the jokes aren't working then Uncle tries to say something genuine but he can't help himself and gives it a comedic spin at the end. But he hopes you know he really meant the genuine part.

Trelawny

-> When Trelawny hears you're having a bad day, he doesn't think it's anything to worry about. He thinks he can cheer you up with some magic.

-> He puts on a small show for you, making birds magically appear and finding a bouquet of flowers behind your ear. But Trelawny knows that isn't enough.

-> He sits down next to you and asks if you want to talk. Trelawny is one of the best listeners in camp, he'll listen and try his best to comfort you in whatever way you want. He'll even ask if you want to pet one of his birds.

Hosea

-> No matter what your problem is or whether you want to talk about it or not, Hosea sits down with you. His first concern is to try and make you feel as relaxed and comfortable as possible.

-> He will bring you whatever you want, go wherever you feel most comfortable. Anything you need, he will try his best to provide.

-> If you need to have a good cry, Hosea hands you his handkerchief and tells you to let it all out. There’s no point in hiding your emotions now and he assures you that tomorrow will be a better day.

Tilly

-> Tilly’s great because she’ll let you vent about your bad day but she also knows when to stop you. She wants the best for you and won’t let you rant all day about pointless things.

-> If you start to spiral, she stops you and tells you to let it go. You’ve complained about your shitty day but it’s important not to dwell on it.

-> Before ending the conversation, Tilly gives you a firm but understanding hug and lets you know that she’s here for you if you have another bad day.

Sadie

-> Sadie can put up with a lot of life’s shit. But seeing you upset and feeling miserable? It makes her feel frustrated and pissed off.

-> She’s had some terrible days so she knows the best thing to do is get a blanket, a hot drink and bring you somewhere quiet. Sadie wraps the blanket around you and sits with you.

-> She brushes your hair with her fingers and she softly asks you how you are. It’s strange to hear Sadie talk so softly but in a way it shows you how much she cares and wants to help

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siswritesyanderes · 3 years ago

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Wow we just love to put Sadie through it don’t we? Which Doctor would you pair her with? Or a Torchwood person, if you think they’d fit her better.

Oh boy, it would be so interesting for all of them. And obviously, we're assuming this happens slightly later in her life; she's a teenager in Rule One because it's Twilight, but for a Doctor Who story she'd be in her twenties. Also, jury's out on whether it's platonic or romantic yanderes.

(For clarity, we're still working with the premise, as expressed in earlier posts, that all versions of the Doctor eventually get to kidnapping, so in most of these scenarios, she's already at full-time companion status. For Twelve, though, let's say it takes a bit longer for her to get there. If it doesn't squick you out, we could say she meets him the same way Bill does; at a college in which he's teaching. Either way, she'd have more Earth-bound interactions with Twelve than anyone else.)

Nine would probably be the most coherent and straightforward, for her. (Well, it's a tie between him and Thirteen.) He'd be frank about everything he's thinking and feeling, with regards to her, and he would be easy to talk to about it. Kinder and more reasonable than his edgy attire might suggest. Even when he doesn't bend on the whole kidnapping thing, he'd be easy to have a discussion with. Sadie tries probing about why he feels that he needs to keep her close, but he's resistant to telling her anything about his past. Admittedly, it makes her very curious. He's an alien, physiologically and mentally and emotionally distinct from humanity, and he's secretive, and he won't let her leave. The mystery of it all is very engaging. Obviously, she'd still rather not be kidnapped, but since that hadn't been made an option, she would like to learn everything.

Ten would be so complicated, because Sadie knows that the dynamic between them isn't healthy, but she also really doesn't like hurting people's feelings. She would try to help him talk through his problems and his trauma and his crimes, and that would only make him more obsessed and dependent. After all, who would help him to pick through all these painful memories, without her? It's like the pain of each old shame, each loss, is dulled just by discussing them with her; like she's left fingerprints of salve through his mind, and if anything were to happen to her, all of the salve would disappear at once. That's all in addition to the love he already felt for her. Sadie can see this increasing neediness developing, but he would just break down again if she stopped now (He wants to tell her everything, soothe more memories, wrap her more thoroughly around his emotional wellbeing.), and anyway, hopefully if they keep digging, they'll come out on the other side of this. Right?

Eleven would be hilarious just because Sadie would keep trying to manage a coherent, meaningful conversation about the parameters of the relationship, and he just keeps jumping from topic to topic and talking around her protestations and not addressing things as deeply as she wants to. His restlessness and Sadie's tendency to dwell and think things through would take some reconciling. She would try to adapt to his personality; she learns that asking him one question or making one request doesn't work as well as giving him a list. If she only says one thing, even if she repeats it, it can get lost in the deluge of his constant activity, but if she says, "Doctor. Four things. One: I need to eat. Two: Can I at least stop by my house to pick up some of my own clothes? Three: If so, can I bring my dog?...(etc.)", he'll likely remember and address each point. For the record, he would let her bring Brillig onto the TARDIS. He would start calling him "our dog". And he can speak dog, so he really treats Brillig more like their shared son. If Sadie wants to seriously discuss something, Eleven will whistle and tell Brillig something like, "Off you go; your mother wants to chat with me alone." And Brillig would go because, again, the Doctor speaks dog. Brillig is a good outlet for his energy, which makes it easier for Sadie to actually talk with him without him bouncing off the walls.

Twelve would be interesting because, like I've said in previous posts, he'd have a bit of tsundere energy, and Sadie would take that largely at face value at first, so he'd be acting all surly and she's just like, "Well, if you don't like me, then we don't have to interact, right?" Eventually, this train of thought would lead to her surmising that Twelve is more invested in her than he initially shows (since he keeps actively seeking her out), but she'd still be pretty blindsided by how much so. When it gets to the point that he does kidnap her, she would be scared stiff; she misread his feelings for her so many times, she has no idea what to expect anymore, so she just goes silent. He would initially try to reassure her that she's safe in a prickly, dismissive way, but when that doesn't help, he softens up and speaks honestly with her about his feelings. It still takes a while for her to relax. Twelve becomes really sweet, in his treatment of her, to make up for having confused and frightened her.

Thirteen would be frank and communicative, like Nine. More forgetful, though; she often has to say things like "Have I already said that?" or "Have I told you that yet? I meant to..." But she's trying to be communicative, and Sadie learns to periodically ask, "Now, Doctor, is there anything you think you should tell me but aren't sure you have?" Like I've said before, Thirteen is more of a slow burn, boil the frog yandere than most of the others, so as far as Sadie is concerned, she's just a companion at first. Enjoying the universe, and all of the alien cultures she gets to see. There's time for Sadie to develop camaraderie and fondness for Thirteen, before Thirteen's possessiveness becomes obvious, so Sadie talks her through it as a friend more than as a matter of survival or anything else. Thirteen is her quirky alien friend who sometimes has a bit of a dark side; it's fine. When Thirteen suddenly suggests that they're dating, Sadie goes with the flow. But eventually, she's going to ask to go home, and Thirteen will keep finding reasons not to, and they'll have their first argument. It isn't their last; Sadie and her time lord BFF go back and forth about this all the time.

I never watched Torchwood, but I do know Captain Jack from Doctor Who, and it blows my mind that I hadn't thought about him as a yandere before now. Hot, flirtatious, can't die, apparently armed with a gun even when he's naked. Thinking of him flirting with Sadie is delightful. I think he'd be closer to a jovial stalker than a kidnapper.

Aah, thank you for this question!

#sadie lily gilder #rule one sadie #yandere nine #yandere ninth doctor #yandere ten #yandere tenth doctor #yandere eleven #yandere eleventh doctor #yandere twelve #yandere twelfth doctor #yandere thirteen #yandere thirteenth doctor #yandere captain jack harkness #male yandere #female yandere #possessive #obsession #yandere doctor who

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levithestripper · 4 years ago

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☀️✨ Javier & John cheering up a sad F! S/O ☀️✨

Anonymous said:

Your Javier & John hcs are so adorable !! 🥺 Could you do Javier & John hcs with a female s/o where they try their best to make their s/o laugh on a bad day?

Thank you!! I really enjoyed writing them, Javier and John are such babies!! Good lord I love them. I hope you enjoy these!! I kinda strayed away from the prompt a bit with Javier’s but I hope it still works for what you requested!

✩ Requests are open!! Read the rules first! Gender neutral reader! ✩

✩ Masterlist! ✩

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✩ Warnings: None! ✩

Javier Escuella☀️✨

(here’s a translator for some of Javi’s Spanish words!! If I messed up on them please tell me so I can fix it.)

Javier is generally a bubbly, upbeat person, so when he saw that his s/o was sad, he didn’t like it one bit. It became his mission that day to make her smile and laugh like she usually does around camp.

He didn’t know what had given her such a heartbroken expression though, normally she would come to him if she had something getting her down. Javier walked around camp looking for her, planning on bringing her back to his tent and tell some stupid, corny jokes that always get her to laugh, but with no luck.

‘Well, maybe she’s outside guarding!’ He thought as he walked the entire perimeter of Horseshoe Overlook. But he still couldn’t find her. At this point, Javier got worried. His s/o rarely left camp, and when she did she was with him in town getting supplies or with him on a date night.

Knowing that she was close with Karen and Mary-Beth, Javier went over to the dominoes table to ask them if they knew where she had disappeared to.

“Heyy, Señoritas. Have you seen y/n? She seemed sad the last time I saw her but now I can’t find her.”

Mary-Beth and Karen look up from their game, at each other, then back at Javier. Mary-Beth was the one that spoke. “I saw her go into town with Kieran a couple-a hours ago. Didn’ hear why she was goin’ with him though, sorry.”

Javi wanted to flow a fuse. He rarely gets jealous, but when he does look out. He stormed out to the horses, mounted Boaz, and galloped off to Valentine once he was out of camp. He isn’t jealous because he think’s she’s cheating on him with an O’Driscoll, he knows that she’d never do such a terrible thing. He wanted to be the one to cheer her up, Kieran wasn’t allowed to do that! That’s not his job!

He got into Valentine fairly quickly, hitching Boaz right outside of the gunsmith. He walked inside and asked the shop keep if he had seen her. The shop keep told Javier that he had seen a girl of that description over by the stables with another guy. Javi thanked the man and ran back outside, marching on down to the stables.

Relief rushed over him when he saw his s/o in the barn, brushing and the horses in the company of Kieran. The other man was across the barn, feeding some of the animals over there. Javier walked up behind the shorter woman, tapping her shoulder. “Where have you been, mi amor? I saw you so sad earlier so I went lookin’ for you, but you left camp without telling me!” Javier tried not to blow up at her, knowing how she didn’t like it when he yelled. He started to mumble angrily in Spanish, pouting a bit. “If you wanted to leave camp, why didn’ you ask me?”

She jumped a bit before realizing that it was only Javier. “Don’t sneak up on me, Javi! You scared me, guapo. I... I didn’t want to bug you, ‘cause you seemed busy n all. S-So I asked Kieran if he’d take me to the stables, since he likes horses too...”

He rolls his eyes, chuckling softly at her reasoning. He held onto his s/o’s hands gently, rubbing her knuckles with his thumbs. “Cariño... You know I’d take you anywhere if you’d just ask me. You know I live to make my futura esposa happy...” Javier leaned in close to her, pressing a gentle, chaste kiss to his s/o’s lips. “Next time, let me take care of you.”

She giggled softly, grinning up at him sweetly. “Of course, guapo.”

John Marston☀️✨

John is one of the most emotionally constipated men you could ever meet.

He barely knows how to connect with Jack when he is sad and crying over something, he doesn’t even know how to approach his s/o when she’s sad. He barely even knew how to help Abigail when she had those hormone induced emotions while she was pregnant. This man is so fucking dense it’s incredible.

John wants it to be different this time, so he prepares stuff that he thinks will help cheer his s/o up. He asked the girls around camp what makes them feel better when they’re down.

The girls all giggle at the question, causing John to rub the back of his neck with his hand, embarrassed. Karen said that acts of romance makes her feel better, Mary-Beth replied with physical affection like cuddles or hugging, and Tilly and Sadie both agree that gift giving was the best way.

So John took that advice and rode into town, buying two packs of blankets, a sewing kit with fabric and stuffing, and all the snacks that he could manage to fit in his satchel. When he got back to camp, he placed all the things he had bought into his trunk except for the sewing kit. John holed himself up in his tent for the rest of the day, stitching together a small toy.

Soon the day eventually came where his s/o was feeling down, moping around camp and slugging through her chores. John set up his tent with everything that he had bought. Different colored blankets draped across his cot, snacks scattered about. He even managed to swipe a few candles from Pearson. He even excused her from the rest of her chores, making a deal with Miss.Grimshaw that he’d do them all instead.

Walking up to his s/o, Marston fiddled with the toy he had made behind his back. “Hey... y/n, I noticed that you seemed pretty down, so I set up a surprise for you in my tent.” He smiled softly when he saw her face lighten up a bit. “A-And I made you this!” John shoved the toy into her hands, face flushed a bright red. He wasn’t used to being this embarrassed, he just wanted his s/o to be happy.

She giggles softly, gently taking the poorly made toy out of his hands. She couldn’t exactly tell what it was supposed to be, but she loved it anyways. “Show me what you set up!”

John showed her a rare grin, taking her hand and leading her to his tent. He opened the tent flap for her, smiling even wider when he saw how excited his lover had gotten. “I asked the women around camp what they liked to do when they’re sad or depressed, so I combined em...” He mumbled softly before walking around her and laying down on his cot, arms outstretched for her, holding the blanket open.

On this day, John Marston became a little less emotionally constipated. With his lover resting on his chest, ear right over his heart. He felt complete with her at his side, right where he could protect her and keep her happy.

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prettyinlimegreenboots · 4 years ago

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“Okay that’s it, party’s over! Get out of my house!”

Alright y’all, buckle up and hold on tight because this one is a doozy! This is 3400 words!! There’s some mentions of cursing and drinking.

October 25

Taking a sip from his red solo cup, he scanned the house, grinning at the activity around him. It was his and Race’s annual Halloween party, the music was loud and the house packed. Albert, as Captain Hook, and Race, as Luigi, were laughing about something in the corner. Jack was leaning over to kiss a black cat, Kat’s costume for the party. And himself was Mario.

His pocket vibrated, catching him off guard. Digging out his phone, he chuckled watching Race shake his head violently, denying whatever Albert had said to him. Opening his phone, he almost dropped it when he comprehended the message that was staring him in the face.

His eyes read the message once, then twice, then again just to make sure he was reading it correctly. He shuffled over to Race, who lit up at the appearance of his husband. “Spottie, imma need you to settle this debate - what’s better Kit Kat’s or Reese’s?”

“That’s what you’re arguing about over here?” Spot shook his head. “Here I was thinking that it was about football teams. But Kit Kat’s are better.”

Albert grinned and pumped his fist, high-fiving Spot. “Thank you my good man. In your face Racer.”

“Whatever.” Race grinned, wrapping his arm around Spot’s shoulder. “Haven’t seen you in a while, snookums. Where have you been hiding?”

Spot leaned up and kissed him with a grin. “Hanging out on the porch with Itey and Hotshot. But I gotta show you something.”

“Does it require the bedroom?” Race rose his eyebrows up and down suggestively.

Giving him a look, Spot slowly shook his head before handing over his phone. “Unfortunately, no but look at this.”

Spot watched Race’s face as he read the text message before looking up at him with tears. “You’re not pulling my leg, right? This is legit happening?”

“I would never pull your leg at this. Now shall we kick all of these people out of the house before heading that way?” Spot asked before Race pulled him into a searing kiss and a big hug.

Jack and Kat came up to them with identical looks of concern. “Everything okay?”

Shoving Spot’s phone in Kat’s hands, he grinned. “Can you help us kick everyone out?”

Katherine squealed reading the text message, giving them a quick hug before nodding enthusiastically. “Absolutely!”

“Okay that’s it, party’s over! Get out of my house!” Spot yelled, walking through the house towards the bedroom to change out of his costume as Race followed behind him yelling the same thing. “Party’s over! Get out of my house!”

Ten minutes later, with shouts of elation from their friends and family, Race and Spot were in the car on the way to their destination. Hands were laced together as Race drove. Spot tapped his toes, wishing things would hurry up and go faster. “Calm down Spottie. These things take time.”

“But Race …” Spot started, squeezing his husband’s hand, with a shaky breath. “This has been our dream!”

Race grinned, pulling into the parking lot of the giant building. “We’ve waited three years, a few more hours won’t kill us. Besides, Jack and Kat will be up shortly - why she didn’t want to show up dressed as a cat is beyond me?”

Spot laughed, leaning over and kissing him. “I love you.”

“I love you too. Shall we go?” Race asked, reaching in the backseat for the backpack that had been packed and in the car for weeks.

As they walked towards the building, they laced their hands, ready to face whatever was coming their way. After checking in, they were directed to a quiet room with a TV, few magazines, and six chairs, a private area to wait.

Dropping the bag on the ground, Race took a seat stretching his legs out. “Come sit, it’s going to take some time.”

“I’ve got to stand. I don’t know how you’re so calm right now.” Spot shook his head. “How have our roles reversed?”

Race opened the bag, taking out his Switch, shrugging. “Not sure but enjoy it while you can. Wanna battle on MarioKart?”

“Not right now.” Spot was tense.

Standing up, Race went to Spot’s side, pulling him into a hug, kissing him gently. “Hey, it’s okay to be nervous, scared and happy. As I said earlier, we’ve been waiting for three years, and it’s finally happening. Now all we can do is wait - if you want to pace, pace. But it’s not going to make the time go by any faster.”

Sitting back down, Race grabbed his Switch, keeping an eye on his husband before starting to play MarioKart. With a sigh, Spot took a seat next to him as Race grinned victorious. A quiet fell on the room with a cuss word coming from Race every now and then when he got hit with a green shell. Before long, Spot was pulling his own Switch from the bag, starting an epic battle of MarioKart between the two.

An hour after they had arrived, and several races on MarioKart, Race’s phone dinged with a text message. “Jack and Kat are on their way up. They told everyone to hang back and we’d text with news.”

Nodding, Spot’s tongue poked out between his lips before throwing a blue shell in Race’s direction. “Damn you Spottie. Give a guy a heads up!”

“Why would I do that?” Spot grinned, focused on the device in his hands. “And I win again …. Wanna go again?”

Race huffed, giving him a look as the door opened, revealing Jack and Kat in jeans and hoodies. “Why would I want to get beat again for the third time? Hi guys.”

“Hey yourselves.” Kat closed the door behind her grinning at the two, sitting near the door. “Any news?”

“None yet.” Shaking his head, Race handed over his Switch to Jack, standing and joining Kat across the room. “Kick his ass for me.”

Race and Kat watched the two hurl threats at one another before Kat nudged Race. “How are you both holding up?”

“Spot was nervous earlier but I pulled him into MarioKart and he’s seemed to calm down some.” Race shrugged, playing with his hoodie pocket.

“And you?” Kat adjusted in her seat so she focused on him, searching for any clues.

He sighed. “Surprisingly calm. We’ve been waiting for this for so long and part of me can’t believe we’re finally here and part of me just wants it to be over.”

“That’s understandable. But you can let yourself be excited and worried and nervous.” Kat put a hand on his shoulder. “You’re gonna be a dad soon, Race and that’s nothing little. Just talk to your brother.”

Race laughed, shaking his head at the memory of Jack holding his nephew for the first time. “I thought he was going to drop Nathan.”

“You and me both.” Kat grinned. “Yes, we had 9ish months to prepare for it but that didn’t diminish all the emotions we felt. Luckily he was better when Lucy came and even better when we welcomed Emmy and Sadie.”

Nodding, he saw where his sister-in-law was coming from. “I guess I’m just being cautiously optimistic since two of these have gone this exact way but the mother’s changed their minds.”

“That was in the past. This one will be different.” Kat smiled. “So many things are already different between this one and the previous ones. You will be walking out of this place with a baby, Race.”

He hoped she was right. “Alright, Aunt Kat.”

She gasped, tears rushing to her eyes with a laugh. “Oh that sounds so sweet. Got names picked out?”

“Four, two of each.” Race grinned. They had opted not to find out what Samantha, the birth mom, was carrying. “And no you’re not finding out early. Shit, I should call Medda.”

“Jack did as we drove here.” Kat gave him a look. “She was a little upset she was hearing it from Jack and not you but she sends her love and forgiveness. She does want a call when they arrive.”

Nodding, Race made a mental note. “When did it sink in that you were truly a mom?”

“When I held Nate for the first time.” She grinned. “Yes I carried him and all but it didn’t hit me until I snuggled him and kissed his forehead.”

Race looked across the room at Spot and Jack who had their heads together talking about who knows what. Feeling his eyes, Spot looked up, sending him an air kiss before grinning at him.

“I always wondered how all of you killed the time in the waiting room when we had the kids.” Kat grinned, as Spot snorted.

“Hence why we brought the Switches.” Spot shook his head, fiddling with his phone. “After Nate, we learned to pack a bag full of snacks, games, and randomness because we never knew how long it would be.”

A knock on the door caught all of their attention. Spot and Race stood up, opening up the door to a nurse who has a bright smile on her face. “Sean and Antony?”

“Yes, that’s us.” Spot widened the door to let her in.

She closed the door behind her before motioning them to sit down. “I’m Anna, one of the nurses in the delivery room and I wanted to let you know that your daughter has arrived - she weighs 7 pounds, 7 ounces, and 22 inches long and was born at 9:56pm. The birth mother just signed her rights away and we’re just cleaning baby girl up and I’ll bring her in shortly.”

Tears were streaming down Spot and Race’s faces as the nurse finished. “Thank you so much for letting us know.”

“Do you have any questions before I head back?” Anna asked looking at the two awestruck dads.

Spot looked at Race before shaking his head. “I don’t think so. Thank you so much for letting us know.”

Anna showed herself out as Race pulled Spot into a hug and a kiss before the tears started up again. “Spottie … a daughter. We have a little girl.”

“Oh I love you.” Spot pulled back, wiping the tears, laughing. “A little girl.”

Race wiped his tears before looking at Jack and Kat who both had tears streaming down their faces. “Congratulations guys. A little girl.”

Jack pulled Race into a hug with a couple of slaps to his back. “Congrats dad!”

Kat did the same, but she was much gentler with Spot. “Congrats papa!”

She laughed when the “oh shit” look crossed Spot’s face as she gave him another hug. “Hey, you’re gonna be okay. That little girl will have you hooked around her finger but that’ll be okay.”

Race bounded over to Kat with a grin before picking her up and spinning her around. “Didya hear? I’ve got a little girl.”

Laughing at her little brother, Kat grinned. “I did hear something about that. Congrats Race.”

The room grew quiet as the door slowly opened revealing Anna with a bundle in her arms. She grinned at the two men who were in awe. “Who wants to hold her first?”

Kat and Jack moved back, each watching Spot and Race point to one another before Race stepped forward for Anna to transfer the baby into his arms.

Sitting down, Race let his eyes sweep over the baby - his daughter. He felt Spot sit to his right as they both admired the sleeping baby. “Oh hello there. She’s perfect, Spot.”

“Yea she is.” He looked at Jack and Kat before looking at Anna.

“I’ll leave you guys but there’s a ringer on the table if you need anything.” She smiled. “Congratulations you guys!”

Spot and Race both nodded, too enthralled with the baby. Listening to the door click shut, Spot turned to Race. “She needs a name.”

“We’ve got two. Feeling any of those?” Race asked as they both thought about the names.

Spot sighed. They had picked out Charlotte Elisabeth and McKensie Kate as their two but he didn’t feel like either name was a fit for their little girl. “No - she doesn’t look like a Charlotte or a McKensie.”

“We’re going to go search for some coffee. Let the three of you have some time.” Kat grinned. Before either could say anything, the door opened and shut again, leaving just Race and Spot in the room.

Spot pulled out his phone, going to the notes section where all of their names were listed. “Alrighty, we got Adeline, Evelyn, and Isabella. Any of those?”

“If I remember right, we both liked Adeline, right? Two nicknames if we wanted - Lina and Addie.” Holding her up, Race looked at their daughter. “I like it. You?”

“Adeline Higgins-Conlon.” It rolls off the tongue. “Now a middle name.”

Race passed Adeline to Spot with a grin. “Here, hold your daughter. What about one of the original middle names we had? Elisabeth or Kate?”

“I am drawn to Adeline Elisabeth Higgins-Conlon.” Spot grinned, brushing a hand over her light brown hair. “What do you think, miss? Do you approve?”

Adeline yawned, smacking her lips with a sigh. “I think she approves.”

The two watched her a bit before Spot looked at Race. “Do you want to go get Kat and Jack? And maybe tell a nurse her name?”

Pressing a kiss to her forehead before kissing Spot, Race nodding standing up. “I’ll be back.”

“We’ll be here.” Spot grinned, watching him leave before looking at the baby. “Hi little girl. Your dad and I are so happy that you’re here. We’ve waited a long time for you. You are so loved, miss.”

He sighed, letting it sink in that him and Race were truly parents and so far it felt pretty good. He knew that cloud 9 feeling would eventually vanish but he was relishing in it for as long as possible.

He was so in his thoughts, he didn’t hear the door open but felt more bodies in the room. He felt Katherine sit next to him and rub his back. “Wanna hold her?”

Kat grinned, holding her arms so Spot could transfer her into them. Kat’s face immediately softened. “Oh hello sweet girl. Look at you. She’s gorgeous, you two.”

“Race, did you call Medda?” Jack pointed at him with a grin. “She wasn’t happy it was me telling her that you were on the way to the hospital and not you.”

Race picked up the phone, dialing a number before listening to it ring. “Hey momma, guess what?” “No, you’re supposed to guess!” “Ok, fine … I’m a daddy. You’ve got another granddaughter. Yea, uh huh.”

Kat looked at Spot. “So what’s her name?”

“Adeline Elisabeth Higgins-Conlon.” Spot said it carefully as not to botch it. “Race and I fell in love with the name Adeline, it means noble, and Elisabeth is after her aunt Kat.”

Tears clouded her eyes, a skip in her breath. “Why?”

“Why not?” Spot laughed, as Race hung up the phone and asked the question. “Addie is going to know how much her aunt and uncle mean to this family. You two have been there every step of the way, much more than anyone else. There was never a question of not using your name.”

Reaching up to brush the tears away, Kat nodded. “I’m absolutely honored. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank us. We should be thanking you.” Race crouched down, kissing his sister’s cheek before running a hand over Addie’s head. “Momma didn’t kill me.”

“Not yet she hasn’t.” Jack grinned. “Is it my turn to hold the munchkin, yet?”

“Sit down first.” Kat gave him a look. “Don’t want you almost fainting like you did with Lucy.”

Jack rolled his eyes but did as his wife asked. “That was one time.”

Kat gave him a look before transferring Addie into her uncle’s arms, who immediately softened at the little girl in his arms. “Oh you’re just a little thing huh? Oh hi little one. Oh you and I are going to be thick as thieves. I’ll sneak you all the Christmas cookies you want.”

“She’s not even two hours old and you're bribing her already?” Race scoffed, shaking his head. “Uncle of the year right there.”

Jack looked up and stuck his tongue out at the new dads. “I’ve gotta let her know she’s got me in her corner.”

Rolling his eyes, Race nodded at Jack. “Don’t spoil her too much before we ever take her home.”

Spot pulled Race into his arms and grinned at his husband. “Let him have his fun. We can ship her over to his house when she’s screaming at 2am.”

“I like the way you think, Spottie.” Race leaned over and kissed him. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Six Days Later

It was Halloween and the family of three had been home for 3 days. They hadn’t had any visitors yet, wanting to get into somewhat of a routine but invited their family and friends to stop by during Trick or Treat to see their little pumpkin.

As Spot was on door duty, Racer was keeping an eye on their little one and refilling the candy bucket. “UNCLE SPOT!”

He heard the familiar cry of his nieces and nephew and grinned, heading into the entryway to see a princess (Lucy), a cow (Emmy), a cat (Sadie) and a cowboy (Nathan). “Hi guys!”

“UNCLE RACE!” All four of the kids clamored over to him, jumping up on him for hugs while their parents stood back and grinned.

“Where’s the little one?” Kat asked, grinning at her brother.

Pointing in the room off the entryway, Race hugged and kissed all the kids. “In there.”

He heard her laughter and a “Racetrack” before turning his attention to the kids. “Did uncle Spot load you up with candy?”

“No he said there was something special in the kitchen.” Nate said, giving his uncle a look.

Race shrugged. “Well if Uncle Spot said there’s something in the kitchen then there must be. Go look.”

The kids ran off as Katherine came back into the entryway with Addie in his arms. “Race this has you written all over it.”

“Of course it does. He’s the only one that has spent time in jail.” Spot piped up getting a look from his husband.

“It was a few hours. Nothing major.” Race argued, popping the collar on his Orange jumpsuit. “Besides, Spot looks more like the Hamburglar than an actual prisoner. It’s only fair that Addie girl fits in around here.”

Spot was in a black and white jumpsuit while Addie had on an orange onesie that they had put a piece of cardboard on her that said “l just did 9 months on the inside” with her birthday on it.

Kat chuckled. “She’s the most adorable prisoner I’ve ever seen.”

“Where did our kids run off to?” Jack asked, reaching for Addie.

Turning to the two uncles, Kat raised an eyebrow. “Apparently they have something special in the kitchen, which is code for a bunch of sugar and other things.”

“We made them Halloween goodie bags - some candy, some non candy goodies. It’s all about balance.” Spot shrugged, sticking his tongue out at Kat.

“Great they’ll sugar them up and send them home with us.” Jack said, snuggling Addie. “At this point, we’ll take Addie and you can keep our four.”

“DEAL!” Race said, not even conferring with Spot. “Addie we love you dearly but that was one deafening cry you did this morning at 2:30. I think I might have permanent ear loss.”

Kat and Jack both chuckled. “Oh I do not miss the first three weeks after we brought each one home. We’ll take our four - eventually they’ll pass out. We’ll schedule a sleepover when you’re a bit older, miss Addie. Kids, let’s go.”

They heard the kids before they saw them. “Thank you, Uncle Spot, Uncle Race.”

“You’re welcome.” They both replied as hugs and kisses were given. Jack relinquished Addie back over to Race as goodbyes were said.

Walking out onto the porch, Spot and Race sat on the porch swing, Addie still in Race’s arms, wrapped in her blanket. They swung gently back and forth. “Happy Halloween, Race.”

“Happy Halloween, Spottie and Addie. I don’t need any of the boos, just the two of you and some candy.” Race leaned over and kissed Spot with a grin. “This is the perfect Halloween.”

That was a doozy! Thanks @wide-eyed--wonderer for sending in that prompt!!! I think that’s my longest Drabble to date!!!

#newsies #newsies fan fiction #writing #ask #drabble requests #newsies drabble #drabble prompt #wide eyed wonderer #spot conlon x racetrack higgins #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #jack kelly x katherine plumber #Jack Kelly #katherine plumber pulitzer

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acciostorian · 4 years ago

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mae reads the kane chronicles: the serpent’s shadow the red pyramid

(aka we see mae go through many emotions in the space of 2-3 days)

holy fuck ive only got to the contents and the chapters have those classic pjo click bait titles i’m so happy rn

WAIT IM SUCH A FUCKING IDIOT- the serpent’s shadow is the THIRD BOOK. uh-oh i almost fucked this whole series over lemme change the book real quick....

i’m literally on the first page and i’ve already been sent on a mission, so the kanes are THOSE bitches

SADIE AND KANE ARE BRITISH???? omg yes please

THEYRE IN LONDON MY HOME

never fucking mind they’re from LA

oh wait sadie was raised as a british kid. that’s very sexy of her.

carter be like, “you wouldn’t be interested in my dad’s lectures.” SHUT UP CARTER I WANNA KNOW MORE ABOUT EGYPTIAN PUNISHMENT

so sadie was raised in east london???? THATS SO SEXC BECAUSE ME TOO BOO

sadie has a british accent. a b r i t i s h a c c e n t.

FIT

“six years in london and she thinks she’s james bond” LMAO

sadie’s so emo/alt i love it. does rick always write his characters like this??

sadie pronounces it “mum” and carter says “mom”

it’s so refreshing to read mum ngl

sadie said bloke omg

i’m feeling carter’s pain. little sisters are shits and honestly sadie has the same vibes as my little sister and me and carter are quite similar. i hate this.

oh wow they really said sadie was too white for their family...

sadie did not HESITATE to be like, “yeah dad we’ll lock that guy in his office. mint.”

sadie telling the story is an experience

sadie said “maths” and “mates” in the same sentence. this is some refreshing shit.

sadie’s friends saying carter is hot is fucking hilarious. like it’s a classic piss-off to thirst over your mate’s sibling

THEYRE GETTING DEPORTED????

LMAO AMOS WAS LIKE, “yeah we don’t talk about manhattan. they’ve got their own problems. *cough percy jackson cough*”

i read thoth the god of knowledge as thot the god of knowledge

carter is right, amos has undeniable swag

philip of macedonia. the crocodile. cool.

i love how the greeks and romans be like “if we don’t honour the gods we’ll get SLAUGHTERED” and the egyptians are like “you know what? fuck the gods me and my homies hate the gods”

sadie kane would stab you in a back alley and dance to mcr as you bled to death and carter kane would take you to a museum, tell you everything about everything and then commit a terrorist attack

amos really went “don’t touch anything, the cats in charge and peace out bitches” and then fucking jumped off the balcony of his five storey mansion

sadie made that door go BANG

that fucking clay statue came to life and not one of them screamed. I WOULD SHIT MYSELF.

i’m giggling, all the greek/roman gods have really long/scary/cool sounding names like tartarus and chaos and nyx but the evilest guy in egyptian myth is called set. S E T.

please make muffin some crazy badass animal like crookshanks or swiftwind.

WHO DARES THROW HANDS WITH PHILIP?????

THE SHABTI FUCKING STOLE AN ARTEFACT THATS AMAZING

i love carter sm, even tho he’s scared as fuck he still picked up that ancient sword and was like “ig i’ll bash some heads in whilst sadie holds the cat”

MUFFIN JUST TURNED INTO SOME WARRIOR CAT LADY AND SHE INSTANTLY GAVE ME CATRA VIBES

every cat in new york is helping them

bast jacked that car like it was nobody’s business

i used to think the greek gods were stupid for having so many things to control but honestly the egyptians are taking the piss, do you really need a whole scorpion goddess?

the kane siblings are written so well. like i actually BELIEVE they’re siblings

i think carters gonna become a comfort character now... like i relate on another level. little siblings always take the spot light and you have to act level headed and calm because the younger ones start shit and you’re like “i gotta be the good one because my family would fall to shit if i didn’t behave.” so big kudos to carter, i love you

so carter’s a king huh? I DIDNT NEED YOU TO TELL ME THAT RICK I ALREADY KNEW HE WAS

zia was like “king tut?? ugh he was such a boy, there were waaaaay cooler tombs out there x x”

i read “nectanebo II” as “nintendo II” and i was like ??? when was that a thing

i drinking camomile tea whilst reading this and i feel so peaceful uwu

sadie really can do magic like THAT like bitch be like “i just copied what zia did and yeah it worked lol”

okay so i’m sorta feeling bad about sadies life rn but i’m still very pro carter

set’s laugh makes me uncomfortable. because when most villains laugh it’s usually described like “their laugh was like a knife, cold and sharp. i hates it.” but when sadie discribed set’s laugh she was like “it was warm and friendly. beautiful.” LIKE AAAA THATS A RED LIGHT

set: the god of theatre because gods dam is he a good actor

sadie saw some hot emo guy and was like “omg marry me”

iskandar be like “lmao imma speak in alexandria greek all the time but this girl bouta die? i switch to perfect english for dramatic effect”

woooOooaaaah SLOW DOWN THERE BUDDY, tongue tattoos???

zia: you guys will probably suck at this at first but oh well we all can’t be great

sadie: *makes fire first time* wooosh

sadie and kane: *doing cool shit* me and my tea: sluuuurrrp

bast is so sassy i love it

me when it’s a sadie chapter: okay ig :/

me when it’s a carter chapter: HOLY SHIT CARTER HEY OMG YOURE DOING CRAZY STUFF???? COOL. i love you.

bast: so yeah, you’d be stupid to teleport to paris, this is desjardin’s home territory

sadie and kane, lying in the streets of paris: oh cool cool

sadie: like i might die rn but i don’t care, as long as it doesn’t get filmed and put in youtube, that would be embarrassing

like ???? sis get your priorities together smh

sadie: *sees hot emo guy again in her spirit adventure, he hints that’s he’s dead or something*

also sadie: so will i see you again?

“no, an egyptian drink. you’ve heard of hot chocolate? this is rather like hot vanilla.” dam now i want some.

carter is an amazing older brother. he’s written perfectly and he’s a great character to relate to for me. even though sadie can make his blood boil, he dropped everything to calm her down when she was panicking about not being able to change back from a bird. i too have to do that for my little sister - sadie and ava are ironically the same age - so i find that very comforting that there is someone like me to relate to!

‘a businessman with a rolling suitcase was waiting by the doors. his eyes widened when he saw me. i must’ve looked pretty strange — a tall black kid in dirty, ragged egyptian clothes, with a weird box tucked under one arm and a bird of prey perched on the other.

‘“how’s it going?” i said. “i’ll take the stairs.” he hurried off.’ LMAO THIS IS WHY CARTER BABY I LOVE YOU

highkey pissed that carters like “i’m always edgy around the police. once i turned eleven they started giving me the Look. when it doesn’t happen it’s always a pleasant surprise.” LIKE FUCK NO HE SHOULD BE ALLOWED TO WALK AROUND UNHASSLED WHATS WRONG WITH HIM

lmao bast be like “imma jump off this national monument. see ya at the airport in my finest clothes and jewellery x”

FOOD UPDATE: i’m eating a chocolate covered waffles and having some tea and i feel so happy rn sorry i know you don’t care but like aaaaaaa

bast called carter her little tomcat and my heart exploded

bast really likes convertibles huh

thoth: i hate rereading my old writing, my present self would never write like this now!! SOMEONE GET ME A RED PEN

are they... are they going to dig up elvis presley?

might put some elvis in for this part, y’know, to set the mood?

i cant stop reading ‘thoth’ as thot even though i know how to pronounce it

the captain with a axe for a head: my name is bloodstained battle axe 😸

yuh bast did some shit ...

imma stop now because spoilers, GO READ THE KANE CHRONICLES THEY ARE THE MOST UNDERRATED RIORDANVERSE BOOKS X X

#the kane chronicles #tkc #carter kane #sadie kane #tkc bast #mae waffles #rick riordan #riordanverse #did someone say queued?

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journal-of-an-outlaw · 4 years ago

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Price to be Paid - Chapter 33

Read on AO3 here

Dear Journal,

I always hate starting these things. Never know what to do to signify another passage starting when the ending of the other was just on the other side of the page. Be it days or months, the one thing that never changes is how close my last entry was. I guess this is to document my thoughts so that when I’m an old man I can look back and reflect on how life used to be. Most of the time I just draw something awful and leave a caption so when my eyes can’t see right anymore I’ll know what I was attempting to preserve. If I make it that far I’ll have plenty of stories to tell.

Anyways.

I know the last time things seemed to be doing well. I got married to a woman who changed me. Dutch had a plan to get us out. John and Abigail were getting along just fine, even little Jack was learning to hunt rabbits and small critters. But it all changed so quickly, where do I even begin…

The bank. I know that damned job was where everything went wrong. Micah and Dutch never stopped talking about it the whole time we were in Guarma so I couldn’t forget any detail even if I tried. And I did try. The first week stuck in that humid hell I was too angry to speak and drank myself into a stupor that would rival Reverend Swanson; alcohol helped me ignore the pain in my chest where my heart used to be. Maybe that’s why he drank. To forget. Everyone tried to talk to me but I wasn’t in a place to listen. They tried to tell me everything would work out, that she was alright and we just had to focus on one thing at a time. But that was bullshit. I just kept seeing Hosea get shot and my wife being carted away, and I was stuck helpless to do anything against it. I’ve never before realized that was my worst fear; watching from the outside as people I love get hurt.

The Pinkertons showed up too fast to not have known about it before but there was no way any of us would have ratted out the gang when we were so close to our goal, so close to leaving and putting behind us any thought of betrayal or being on the run any longer. I spent more than one night stuck on that island replaying it over and over but I couldn't make sense of it.

I should have been faster. I shouldn't have let Dutch separate us. As soon as that snake Milton yelled I knew we were done for.

I shouldn't call him that. I know I can come up with something worse. Technically he is my father in law, but he is the reason Hosea is dead and the woman I love is...gone. Who knows where he’s hidden her away. No wonder she never told me about that mess, I would have never believed someone so good and true was family with that vile man.

She probably thought I’d hate her for keeping the secret, but the truth is I couldn’t care any less. Sometimes you don’t get lucky enough to pick your family. I know that better than anyone.

Micah claims they planned it together, for her to distract her father long enough for us to escape, but I’m not too sure yet if I believe that. I saw the look in her eyes. Panic. Fear. Then that stubborn heroism that should have told me to drag her out with me no matter the cost. It was in the set of her mouth, and how her eyes narrowed enough to give away her thoughts. Just a few of the things I love so much about her. But in an instant she was gone. Locked eyes in the middle of the chaos was the only goodbye I got.

Losing Hosea was hard, to say the least. He was more of a father to me than Dutch was in all the ways that mattered. He taught me to swim and fish and how to read the leaves and stars at night. He taught me that waiting is sometimes the best strategy, and to never go anywhere without a good strong lie as to why you’re there. He was kindness and compassion, but also cleverness and hard edges when he needed to be. I looked up to him more than I knew and his absence will leave a painful hole that cannot be filled.

But my grief is nothing in comparison to Dutch’s. His...it’s like a pain he’s unwilling to admit is there. Like he’s afraid that acknowledging it will break the damn he’s built and everything will come crashing down. I worry what it means for him, for me, for all of us. Hosea was truly the angel sitting on Dutch’s shoulder.

I somehow made it out of Guarma and that whole mess alive. A boat took me back and I had the unfortunate luck to land in Van Horn. I must be getting old, my bones seem to have absorbed some of the exhaustion I’ve been feeling for nearly a month now. But I got myself a horse and should be back at Shady Belle tomorrow afternoon to whatever wreckage is left from my former life.

The thought of seeing my wife seemed to be the only thing getting me through the days since that cursed robbery. Her smile, the sound of her laugh, her soft hand in mine. I miss it, sometimes so much I am nearly brought to tears and in those moments I understand why Dutch doesn’t talk much about Hosea. Like watching the sunrise with burning eyes, sometimes the pain that comes with it makes you aware that it happened at all.

Part of me knows that what’s waiting for me at Shady Belle isn’t good news, but I can’t think about that just yet. Hope is the comforting shadow beside me.

I should have known better than to expect a good night’s sleep. My eyes were so blurry I mistook a tree for a man on the side of the road. Even my body knew that nothing is how it should have been.

Shady Belle was empty. Well, worse than that. It had echoes of the gang being there, our last hurrah as we rode out to the gates of victory so blind to what was about to happen. Cans littered around where we ate together, scuff marks all across the dirt from our boots, even a small pair that must have been Jack’s. The worst though was a carving I found on one of the poles of the front porch of my initials in a heart that she must have drawn without me knowing. I tried to etch it into my notebook but found I couldn't stand there for more than a few moments without the familiar pain of missing her taking over my senses. Maybe one day I won’t feel like I’m being ripped apart by all of these emotions.

Inside was empty. Nothing remained of the time we spent in those walls. I couldn't bring myself to check the room I had shared with YN for the fear of being entirely overwhelmed again. Instead I found a letter from Sadie Adler, a woman of many surprises, waiting for me in the living room. She must have known I would come back.

The quiet didn’t last too long before a couple of Pinkerton fools in the employment of Mr. Milton came around. From what I overheard they returned to Shady Belle every single day to see if we had returned but had no such luck. That meant two things; that the gang got away safely and the other’s from Guarma hadn’t come to the house. For a few moments at least my heart settled but that didn’t last long. These days it never did.

I rode straight to Lakay even though I despise the damp, disgusting heat of the swamps. My eagerness to see people I knew won over my hatred for the area. Eventually I found my way to a small village, if you’d even call it that, of buildings set up along the river bank. Time and humidity had worn away at any pride these homes must have held, the moss clinging to anything that needed to be filled back in. It was silent save for one man in the farthest hut chopping away at some type of meat.

Pearson for the first time in my life was a sight for sore eyes. Luckily Abigail was behind him and Sadie behind her so I was quickly welcomed with warm arms and a bowl of stew that was the finest I had ever tasted. There were questions, so many questions, but they held their tongues for the time being and let me settle into a bed for a few hours of sleep. Finally the exhaustion caught up with my body and I was overcome with aches and a cough, but that I ignored too.

Tilly, Uncle, Lenny, Karen, Sean, Mary Beth, Strauss, Molly, Charles, and everyone else was safe and hidden away. We were safe for the time being.

Micah and Javier arrived the next day with the same story. We all needed rest, but there were things to do. John had been captured and taken to Sisika. Abigail pulled me aside and asked about YN and I did my best to hide my pain, but she told me what happened after we got caught in the gunfire. She was taken somewhere north, or at least that’s where the wagon headed, and some man named Staten was her watcher. My blood nearly boiled, but Abigail calmed me down until the agony of losing her ripped me apart and I had to go sit on the dock before anyone else saw me. How am I to deal with this alone? I would give anything to have her back by my side again, father be hanged.

Not two days later a rain storm kept us inside, and set up the dramatic entrance for Dutch’s grand return. Things all broke loose. Abigail was yelling about John again, Micah on about something else. The man didn’t even have a chance to sit down before he was bombarded again. We raised a glass to Mrs. Adler for saving the gang in Dutch’s absence, her and Charles were the only reasons things continued on.

She found me staring at the water the next morning. I was sitting there, thinking of my wife, and Sadie must have known. She tried to talk about knowing loss and feeling my pain, but there’s no one in the world who knows what I’m going through. What we’re going through. My wife is somewhere I don’t know and I can do nothing about it. Every second of every day I feel like a failure for letting her down. I want to be there for Dutch as he needs the support, but I can’t help think that as time ticks on she’ll forget me and move on. Not sure what I’ll do if that happens.

Bill Williamson is a right fool. That night he came busting into the sleep house going on about how hard we were to find, saying he asked everyone he could find, and I knew trouble couldn't be too far behind. Only someone truly hoping to meet death walks into a nest of vipers. I had just finished my glass of whiskey when I heard her voice.

At first I thought I imagined it. There were plenty of times that the desperation in my mind had boiled long enough that her sweet tones called to me from somewhere just beyond my reach. At first I longed for them, for any gentle reminder that she was as real to me once as the glass currently in my hand. Then after a while they hurt to hear and the words got all jumbled together. Like she was farther away than ever. Like I needed reminding.

But sitting inside that house I heard her clear as a bell. Not the words she spoke, it was far too loud inside for that, but I could tell it was her. My heart knew too and started pounding in time with the rain hitting the roof. Dutch saw me and asked why I had frozen in place but Abigail had heard it too. She stood and stared at me, wondering what was taking me so damn long to move but it was like my legs had grown twice their weight. I finally got myself up and pushed through the sudden silence around me to stand at the door.

There she was again. She had to be real. But she sounded...off. Like something was wrong.

Calling for me, for us, or anyone. I was so full of terror I couldn’t breathe. But someone touched my shoulder and I came back to life, opening the door and finding my dream standing before me. Wide eyed and desperate, much like myself, but there was a warning in her eyes I couldn’t decipher from so far away. Her hands were up in the air shaking like a leaf. Her head shook slightly. I was overcome by a need to preserve this moment of reunion and committed her to memory for once she was back in my arms and I could draw her in this here journal. Honestly I can’t describe how I felt knowing she was at least alive. My heart wanted me to run to her and throw caution to the wind, but my gut told me something worse was lingering in the shadows with an alligator grin.

Just from looking at her I could tell Milton had damn near starved her for the dress she wore was much too large, hanging off her arms and shoulders. The blood was what cued me in. Rust red stains splattered the front and ice filled my veins at the realization of who’s ghosts she wore wrapped around her. That bastard Milton paraded her around in a costume like he was putting on a show, but I was done being a puppet.

Arthur Morgan was nobody’s fool.

Arthur.

His eyes were murderous but whether that was aimed at you or not remained unknown. The rapid thumping in your chest flooded into your ears as well but the words passing between you didn’t need to be spoken. You didn’t need to hear them to know what he would say.

Seeing Arthur after all that time was a breath of fresh air in a world that had been a dusty haze for the past month. It was awful and wonderful at the same time to be standing so close yet unable to move any closer. Your soul ached to return to its rightful place. The stress of standing there with the weight of all that had happened could be seen as your hands shook and your shoulders tensed and your heart broke all over again.

More light passed onto the muddy ground as the door behind Arthur opened and a few cautious faces moved out. Dutch. Abigail. Bill. Lenny. Charles. Sadie. Anger and confusion colored their expressions. You hoped they all could understand.

A strange feeling passed through you as you noticed Micah was nowhere to be found.

Arthur took in deep, heavy breaths as you held eye contact. Under any other circumstance standing beneath the stars in the dark of night would be almost romantic, especially with the twinkling fireflies blinking their messages all around you. But the rain and the tension crackling across the night like lightning changed that. In fact it changed everything.

The rain covered the sound of wagons rolling in and the footsteps of Pinkerton agents as they crept around the perimeter to trap the Van der Linde gang from escaping. The lightning bugs hid the glints of metal from the guns being raised and taking aim. And you, the queen of the chessboard, were meant to hold the outlaw’s attention as the plan slid into place around you. Your father had been almost gleeful explaining it to you and it made you sick.

“YN...what’s going on?”

Dutch held his hand out in front of his adopted brother but kept his eyes trained on you.

“Don’t say anything, Arthur. We don’t know what this is.”

A voice hissed behind you. The horrible reminder that you were not there of your own accord. You were not there to be rushed to safety, to explain and convince those you loved that you have never walked out those bank doors if you thought any harm would have befallen them.

“I…” The words faltered as they mingled with the falling rain. “I am here to...offer a deal on behalf of Cornwall Kerosene and Tar, the United States Government, and the Commonwealth of West Elizabeth.”

“A deal!” Dutch snorted. “And what would that be?”

Tears rolled down your cheeks at the thought of what had to come next. Only when your shoulders shook from the tension of holding them back did you look away from Arthur, praying to anyone who would listen for a way out of this.

“You have nowhere left to run.” The words were plain but landed like a slap in the face. Milton had prepared a lengthy monologue and you fought to remember all of it. “My father has chased you relentlessly and ultimately you will submit. There is a price big enough on your heads that bringing you in dead would still earn him a fortune. But there is dignity and pride in turning yourself over alive instead of ending up d-dead like that...fool Hosea Matthews.”

The hiss behind you continued as the people in front of you balked at your words. It hurt to know Milton was twisting the knife in but you held the weapon.

“If you come without a fight, you will all be allowed to live. If not, I can’t -”

“Allowed!” Dutch responded. “What is this, there’s no honor in this choice. I will not be commanded like some dog after what your father did to Hosea!”

This time the words hurt you and you answered with a flinch.

“Dutch, please,” you licked your lips, your eyes darting to Arthur. “You don’t have to fight! Everything will be alright, just listen to me -”

“Everything will be alright?” The leader repeated back. “I believe nothing of the sort. Mrs. Morgan, do you know what happens to folks like us who the law doesn’t see favorably? Who aren’t the shiny, golden children of society? They are hung like common street criminals and forgotten in the ashes of our history books. I refuse to fade away as an ink spot upon a page, I refuse to let others make my choices for me, and I refuse to listen to a bully who hides like a coward behind others! We demand to be more than that legacy fated for us by others. We demand our god given right that others only dream of, freedom!”

His speech was beautiful but it didn’t change the fact that mere feet behind you sat a Maxim gun, manned and ready to fire, if they didn’t listen to your pleas. Dutch’s pretty words did nothing to stir the rebellious spirit in your chest and instead caused more tears to run down your cheeks. The flare of his independence was bright, but that meant it couldn’t burn for much longer.

You weren’t the only one affected by Dutch. Behind you the men lying in wait rustled out of the bushes and crept up with their guns drawn, each footstep stringing tension across your shoulders.

“I was wrong about your father, YN.” Dutch drew in quick breaths at the sight of the ambush. “He’s not only a coward, but a fool too. You see, he’s underestimated us once again and that will lead to his demise. Now, boys! For Hosea!”

The world erupted in gunfire and smoke around you. At Dutch’s signal everyone hiding inside fired away at the agents planted around the swamp, yelling and filled with rage at the thought of revenging their beloved Hosea. Loss was a strong motivator, and as you clamped your hands over your ears you wondered how long the haze of distraction would last. The maxim gun fired continuous deafening rounds and all you could hear above the ringing in your ears were the screams of people you loved. Your knees sank into the mud as panic rippled across your skin.

Milton shouted behind you, commanding his men like he was trying to storm the gates of hell.

Dutch retreated into the cabin leading his rebel crew in a secret assault against the forces of perceived evil who had come to change his ways.

Where did you fit into all of this? What was your place and how did you go about getting there? Was your only hope to run and hope it would find you? It only took a moment to come to you. There was only one anchor in this hurricane and it was the same one you returned to time and time again.

Arthur Morgan.

As Dutch retreated Arthur hesitated to leave you behind. His eyes darted through the dark to try and find you while he ducked for safety. Terror clenched your heart and you screamed for him to get out of the line of fire, you would find him.

Forcing tension into your shaky limbs you knew you would regret it if you never even tried to get to him. The air above you was filled with shouts and raindrops and gunshots but nothing could distract you; this was your only shot and you would not throw it away. A door to your right swung open and light flooded the ground and you took off pumping your legs as hard as you could to cross the muddy ground getting closer and closer to your goal.

Breathe. You had to get to him, you were so close.

Behind you bodies hit the ground and you had no doubt that Arthur had taken most of them out. He had incredible aim in the worst of times, and this was definitely one of those. Even Dutch couldn’t rival him and after a few competitions no one else had bothered.

“YN! Over here!”

“Javier!”

You had never been so happy to see the dark haired man in your life. He grabbed your arm and pulled you inside, yanking you down to the floor immediately to avoid another spray of bullets from the gatling gun.

“What are you doing?”

“Trying to help!” You pleaded with him. “Someone needs to take out that gun, what can I do?”

“Stay down, Dutch has a plan!”

You both ducked to the floor as a window shattered above you.

“It better be quick, we can’t hold out for long!”

From outside one of the agents yelled above the chaos. “There’s too many of them, we have to retreat!”

“No!” Your father bellowed back. His voice was too close for comfort. “We do not back down, we have the power of the law on our side.”

“The power of the law ain’t fighting two of the best shots this side of the Mississippi, boss! We are!”

Javier let out a breath that sounded like a laugh and shook his head. “Mrs. Adler’s out there too now, won’t be long. Between her and Arthur I don’t think the Pinkerton’s stand a chance.” There was a pause as Javier eyed you warily. “Your father, that is.”

“Javier -”

But you couldn't finish your sentence as the back door flew open and someone called out to him. He nodded at you and crawled his way to the door to see why he was needed, leaving you alone to hide from the debris falling all around. As the door shut behind him, you caught a glimpse of red coat tails that looked awfully similar to what Micah usually wore.

More men were dying outside, you could hear the yells of defeat as the maxim gun came to a stop but you were running out of time. Something inside of you said the clock was ticking and you needed to move.

Breathe. In, out. Breathe.

“Where did she go?” Milton bellowed from outside. The bullets had stopped and the air felt deathly still. “Where did that bitch go?”

“Don’t you talk about my wife like that!” Your heart swelled at Arthur’s words.

It sounded like he was in the barn next door. If you could sneak without being caught this was your chance for a getaway. Perhaps the only one.

“Get out here now before I blow this whole place to hell! Turn yourselves in and die with nobility.”

Your eyes squeezed shut. Block him out, he’s bluffing. A ball of nerves formed in your stomach like a hard thing weighing you down and you fell to the wall for support as you gathered the courage to move again.

“Agent Milton, I believe this is where we part ways. You are alone and outnumbered, give it up.” Dutch answered.

“Never, Van der Linde. I am tasked with bringing you and the others in…” his voice tapered off as soft clicks rang out and you imagined from your hiding spot behind the wall everyone aiming in his direction,

“How about this,” the dark haired man suggested. “You and I can make a little trade. Me and my friends here will walk out of here safely and you will not pursue us if we give you something you want.”

A bark of laughter responded. Milton was not pleased with the child's play that interrupted his duty. “And what would I get out of this deal?”

“Your life?” Dutch shot back. “A chance to live another day? No?” There was a pause as Dutch walked forwards and you dared a peek out of a nearby bullet hole to observe the scene. “Maybe something a little more valuable. Your daughter for instance?”

Two rough hands suddenly grabbed your shoulders and yanked you upwards and you let out a cry of disbelief. They hadn’t made any noise walking up, or perhaps you were too trained on listening to the conversation outside to notice.

“Get your hands off of me!” You cried out at the same time Arthur yelled something from outside.

“Shut up, Princess Pinkerton. And walk.”

You should have known. Did the man who walked you down the aisle really have no regard for your life? Micah gave you a shove to move forward and you hesitated for only a moment. All you wanted was to help your family escape safely and to keep your father from enacting his twisted sense of justice. You wanted to feel safe and free, but there were too many obstacles holding you back. Was this really all your life would be?

With dirty hands you wiped your cheeks, squaring your shoulders and preparing to face him again. It wasn’t going to be easy. But there didn’t seem to be another choice.

“Dutch what in the hell are you playing at?”

Falling rain once again met your face as you walked out and took in the tense scene before you. Dutch, Arthur, Bill, and Charles all had their pistols focused on your father who in turn stared down his barrel at Dutch. The two men were everything the other despised, and you were caught in the middle.

“My daughter?” Milton still seemed shocked to see you. As if he hadn’t been the one to bring his own child to a gunfight and had simply found you there.

Arthur was held back by the iron grip of Charles as he habitually tried to come to you. The look of pure sorrow on his face broke your heart but there wasn’t enough time to think about yourself and how you felt. Soon he would be out of sight.

“That’s right. Take her, and the two of you leave and never come back to chase us around the country. Me and my friends will never cause another day of trouble for you and we all leave with our lives. Isn’t that what we want, after all? To live and go our own ways?”

It felt like he had slapped you across the face with his words. The fact that you were the bargaining chip was not lost as you stared down the man with newfound hatred.

“Don’t I get a say in any of this?” You snapped back. “Or am I unimportant enough to both of you that my value lies only in my silence?”

“Oh Mrs. Morgan,” Dutch chuckled darkly. “I have missed your temper. But today, my dear, is not the day to fight like it's your last. Be a good girl and run along with your father.”

Something in his tone made you hesitate, the hatred pausing for just a moment. Was there something else going on? Had he not abandoned you just quite yet? It was a glimmer of hope but that was all you could find so you held it close. He gave a slight nod in return.

“Fine. But I won’t forget this.”

Dutch’s gun slowly moved to take aim at your head and you caught your breath at the sight. He was filled to the brim with frustration and rage. But somewhere in his eye was a calm collection as he formed a plan.

“Now get out of here. Both of you. And don’t come back.”

Milton’s free arm shot out and gripped yours too tightly, his eyes still focused on the outlaws escaping of their own design before him. His men were all dead. There were two horses left to ride out and no wagon. He had truly and utterly lost but he refused to admit it.

Arthur’s eyes were dark as you tried to meet his but he wouldn't look at you. The flush in his cheeks gave away how worked up he was and you wondered if it was all too much and he had found his breaking point. You wouldn't blame him if he didn’t want you anymore, things were just so damn complicated. It hurt but his happiness came first.

Your father took a step backwards and dragged you with him and panic hit your stomach.

“Dutch…Dutch! Don’t let him do this,” the tears started no matter how much you tried to keep them in. “You don’t know what it’s like, please.”

The small group watched you with hard eyes of confusion and hesitation and you didn’t blame them. Sadie had a mean look to her, but that was probably from the heat of battle. Charles looked sad and your heart ached for your friend. Even Bill looked hesitant to send you off with Milton, but no one moved against Dutch. Something whispered to you this might be the last time you saw them.

You fought every step of the way but eventually Milton got you on a horse and tied the reins to his with a length of rope. Any last drops of hope were drained out of you at the sight of the others breaking away hurriedly. It was just Dutch, Arthur, Sadie, and Micah left that you could make out through your tears as your world fell apart.

“Stop crying, I can’t think,” Milton muttered harshly.

“Everything I love has been taken away from me, by you! And now I’m stuck with you again I think I have the right to be upset.”

“You have no right to anything,” he replied. “You are nothing in the eyes of anyone and that’s all you will be.”

The horses started moving and you looked behind you one last time. Without the rain the evening appeared softer; the firebugs had come out to blink to one another and the moss swung lazily around the canopy. Dutch had finally lowered his weapon but you noticed Arthur was gone from the group, no doubt off to chuck your wedding ring into the bayou and let the memory of you fade with the small metal object as it sank into the murky riverbed.

If only you could touch him, feel him, let him know that nothing was his fault and every mistake had been tallied in your name. Arthur had scrubbed his slate clean in your eyes, it was time he saw that too. You missed him more with each step your horse took away.

It was torture to to ride on with your father as emotions swirled all around you. He pushed the horses at a fast trot to leave the swamps as quickly as possible, paranoia creeping up on him like the sounds of crickets at his back. You could no longer hold back the sobs that shook your body. Sorrow at losing everyone again. Nerves about going back to being a prisoner. Utter and complete heartbreak at the thought of Arthur hating your every fiber. It was all too much. How could one person cope with this much feeling?

“I ever tell you why I joined the Pinkertons in the first place?”

Milton’s voice caught you off guard and interrupted your sorrow.

“N-no, and I don’t care -”

“I joined,” he continued on. “Because I wanted to put order where there was only chaos. The Pinkertons were a respectable organization I could put myself behind, gain respect myself and do something worthwhile for society. We left Boston after your brother...died and I couldn’t stand the pain. My work eventually came second to drinking and I knew then that was my lowest point.”

“But you kept drinking, you still do,” the thought of stale whiskey making you shiver.

“Since you ran off I haven't touched a drop. You see, in the past I myself was the chaos and I needed order to save me. Our family was broken but I couldn't look past my own pain to see that you both needed me instead of the shell of a man I was parading around as. Your mother is a good woman and pulled me up when I needed it. She packed us up and moved us out all on her own. I was simply a shell.” You had never heard your father talk like this and wondered what brought about the nostalgia. It was strange to hear about a time you dreamed so often of but in reality knew nothing about. He looked softer as he spoke. “I never wanted to be like that again. Yes, I still drank to forget but I was finally in control where I belonged. We had a good house, in a good town. I had a good wife and a good daughter. Only when that bastard Van der Linde moved in did you start to get reckless, going to town with that dark haired woman and forgetting where you came from. It didn’t take me long to realize you were the only thing left I had to steer away from chaos. My little girl.”

His honey-covered words were hiding something but you couldn’t figure out what it was. The way he spoke of chaos and control sounded religious; he truly meant to save others the same way he found for himself. You sat in silence for a moment before thinking of something to say.

“I’m not your little girl anymore,” your voice remained steady. “To be honest I’m not sure I ever was. Growing up with a daddy who drinks and hits you takes away any kindness he offers and twists it into something evil.”

“You see what I mean?” Milton’s temper flared for a moment and he carefully brought it back in. “All of them, they turned you away from what’s right. They worship savagery.”

“These aren’t things that changed because I met them, they were always wrong! Do you really not see that?”

Milton hesitated before answering. “The life you lived there wasn’t...These people are just playing pretend. They have no sense of contributing to something larger than themselves and it’s so small minded, you were raised to know better than that.”

“Maybe I don’t want to contribute to something,” you muttered. “Maybe I just want to know what it is to not live bound to any rules other than what I need. I’ve seen your justice, father, and I don’t want any part of it.”

Weariness slipped into your bones at the conversation. It was the longest you two had spoken in months, almost a year, and his blind passion did nothing to sway your feelings towards the Pinkertons.

“I’m sure you’ll change your tune. Your mother is too.”

Your head shot up at that. “Mother knows what you’ve done? And she agrees?”

Before he had a chance to answer, a horse came thundering up the road behind you. Squinting through the evening fog you couldn’t make out the rider but had a feeling in your heart that it was someone you knew. They drew closer and with each passing second you grew more anxious. Your father pulled out his pistol and kicked the horses faster.

“Milton!” A feeling of relief washed over you at the sound of the voice. “You ain’t going anywhere with her. Give it up!”

“Arthur!”

The hose below you let out a nervous whinny. It struggled against you pusining to turn with your legs and the yanking from the rope as your father pressed it to go faster than before. You were desperate to get to your husband but it was nearly impossible with no control and you wanted to cry out in frustration.

“Get back, Mr. Morgan. We had a deal but I’m not surprised you snakes went back on it,” your father spit, looking back. “You’ll get nowhere with this stunt.”

“Stop, please stop!” You begged. Arthur was gaining closer with every second.

Milton spun around to check on the pursuer’s progress and the look on his face was murderous. Rage flushed his face and the pressure to flee made the veins in his forehead stand out at a horrifying attention. He paid you no attention as he kicked his horse again.

With less than ten feet between you Arthur kept one hand tightly on the reins and held the other out to you, reaching as far as he could to try and bring you to him. As if on its own, your arm stretched to try and meet his fingertips. You held on to the saddle horn and tried to ignore the sounds of protest coming from your father that drove the horses on somehow.

“Just a bit more, darlin’. I got you. Don’t be afraid!”

“I’m not, I’m not!”

The sound was bordering hysterical. The distance between you was all you had to overcome and then you would be safe and home in Arthur’s arms again. Your heartbeat matched the echoing of hooves around you at the thought of making it to Arthur and simultaneously what would happen if you didn’t.

His blue eyes held yours with no malice and your own fears melted away momentarily. For a month you had been kept apart, by Dutch, by your father. It was time to end all of that.

Just as your hands brushed one another in their first reunion Milton screamed and whipped around to face the two of you.

“Enough! I’ve had enough of this!” The pistol in his free hand raised to take aim at the moving target. “Leave us now or die!”

“No!” You screamed, moving in front of Arthur as best you could to shield him. “Father stop!”

“Milton put the gun down!” Arthur’s voice was low and hard, anxiety weaving its way through at the thought of either of you getting hurt. By now he had a firm grasp on your wrist and the pressure of his hand on you gave you strength. Your mind ran wild trying to think of a way to get out of this alive.

But there simply wasn’t enough time.

The missing heat from Arthur’s fingers registered at the same time as your scream ripped through the muggy air. You clawed at the empty space next to you and watched in horror as a red stain blossomed across Arthur’s shoulder beneath his hand. He looked up almost bewildered.

“Arthur! Arthur no!”

You twisted out of the saddle and fell to the ground with a hard thump. The impact hurt but you pushed it aside. You had to get to Arthur.

Milton stayed silent but circled back around. You ignored him and ran, if you could get far enough you could both still get away. But hope slipped out of your grasp as he came closer.

The shot hit him right in the shoulder and he was bleeding. A lot. Harsh, ragged breaths pulled in and out of Arthur’s chest as he applied shaky pressure to the wound and cursed in agony. You knew there was no way he could ride both of you in that state.

“How could you!” You screamed at your approaching father. “That is my husband you just tried to kill!”

“Milton -”

“Enough of this foolishness!” Milton shouted, spit flying in his desperation and rage. “I will not have you acting like a child any longer. This ain’t over Morgan. You tell Van der Linde -”

“YN -”

“We’re not leaving him! He could die!” Milton gave you a pointed look. Anger bubbled up inside of you. “No, I refuse to go with you.”

“You don’t have a choice. If he dies no one will come after us and you will stay with me. If not,” your father shrugged. “I’ll kill him later.”

Just as you went to join Arthur, Milton grabbed your arm. You struggled and pulled to no avail. He was stronger and dragged you further and further from your husband who held himself up precociously, blood covering his chest.

“I said enough!” Your father yanked you one last time and looked down at you with rage and a hint of pity in his eyes. “You clearly need to be reigned in more than I thought.”

A blinding pain exploded on your right temple and radiated down your neck. Arthur cried out but the sound was lost as your father brought the flat end of his pistol down, hammering it into your temple to knock you out. Unfortunately it worked; you couldn't fight him anymore and Arthur was all but dead if no one knew where he was to help him.

Your last fleeting thought before losing consciousness was that this had to end. The chasing, the fighting, the pain of losing good people who didn’t deserve their fate. It was time to take back the control others had over you and set everything right that had toppled into chaos around you. In a twisted sense your father’s words about disorder and structure were true. Just not in the way he wanted.

You were no one’s pawn and never would be again.

#rdr2 #Red Dead Redemption #fanfic #price to be paid #chapter 33 #I don't think I posted 32?#oh well

6 notes · View notes

smallblueandloud · 4 years ago

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1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, and 7 for the writing ask- I AM SO SORRY I COULDNT STOP!!! xoxo

aaaah these questions look SO GOOD thank you so much <3 <3 for this ask meme, which will be open all weekend!

1. tell us about your current project(s) – what’s it about, how’s progress, what do you love most about it?

i pulled open all of my WIP google docs for this and my laptop started whirring ominously, lmao. this is going to be a Little Long but i love talking about my wips so who cares!! (under the cut because EXCERPTS)

guys and dolls but gay - very, very casual rewrite of guys and dolls if sky masterson was a woman. i’m loving how chill i’m being about this one because it’s so much fun to not have to worry how i’m going to write lyrics in a not-weird way and just focus on the story. this one’s first because it’s theoretically closest to being finished.

sky, laughing: “oh? people. all the people you turn down every day. well, i imagine there’s someone out there that’ll catch your eye.”

sarah, stiffening: “...yes, there will be.”

sky: “and what might this person be like?”

sarah: “he will not be a gambler, for one.”

sky does not miss the pointed pronoun. “i’m not interested in what he won’t be, i’m interested in what he will be.” she sits down on the desk, in a pointedly masculine pose, and sets her fedora next to her - at her most Hot Queer, basically. “how will you know when he gets to you?”

my fic for the aos rarepair fic exchange - i can’t give any plot or ship details, for obvious reasons, but it’s 1.3k and i’m having fun with it!

steven roadtrip of destiny - canon divergent fic set at the end of steven universe future where steven goes on a roadtrip instead of... canon. it deals with some heavy emotions and it’s also a character study so it’s tentatively shelved until i get around to rewatching suf. but i am projecting on steven like crazy and it’s really, really cathartic. it’s taught me a lot about myself too lmao.

He’s never been anonymous before. He kind of likes it. It means he can fold his arms on the table and put his head down without Pearl worrying about his posture, or someone asking him if something’s okay.

In the last few months, he’s grown to hate people asking him how he’s doing, or if he’s okay. He always ends up lying, because he doesn’t want to worry them, and he ends up feeling worse.

Probably because it’s more of him supporting other people without supporting himself.

He should have told someone how he was feeling. He should have reached out. Sadie could’ve helped him. Lars would’ve listened. Connie would have hugged him and then found him the appropriate mental health professional.

(God, Steven wants a hug. Also the appropriate mental health professional? Whoever that would be.)

untitled aos fic - i don’t want to give a lot of details because :eye emoji: and also i don’t know much about what the plot of this is going to be anyway, lmao. but here’s an excerpt:

daisy “that actor who doesn’t shut up about data harvesting” johnson (@daisyquake) tweeted: two weeks :eyes emoji:

Elena Rodriguez | Seven Cents S2 Streaming On Netflix Now! (@yoyorodriguez) retweeted and added: the problem with being friends with daisy is that you SHOULD have some insight into what her tweets mean but you still have no idea

Fitz (@justfitz) retweeted and added: Try being married to her

untitled star wars twins fic - because i am a total and massive nerd. i’m just kind of stuffing everything i have feels about from the post-anh era into this and planning on figuring it out later? i’m really loving talking about the culture of alderaan (and the culture of the survivors) and also i just love writing luke and leia’s relationship... so much......

(no excerpt for that one because i’ve basically posted all of it in various posts lmao)

aos ds9 au - i’ve posted a LOT about this already and i want to keep the plot a surprise but fsk is in this and married and half the cast is aliens, what else do you need in life.

“Good morning,” says Jemma, coming into the room with her hair wet and her uniform crooked. “Hello, darling.”

“Hi,” says Daisy, turning her face up for a kiss. Jemma obliges absently as she walks past, looking around the room.

“Has anyone seen my hair clip?”

“No,” say Fitz and Daisy in unison.

and of course, last but never least in my heart, chapter 3 of the magnum opus - writing this is on hold until my brain decides to stop hitting me over the head at every possible moment, but there’s like... 2k written so far? it’s. it’s going.

“Yeah, yeah,” says Coulson, and makes quick work of the right gauntlet. It’s only halfway through the left one that his fingers slow and he says, quietly, “Simmons designed these, didn’t she?”

She lets out a quick breath. “Yeah.”

He stays quiet for a few more seconds, finishing up the last of the straps, making sure they’re tight enough. Finally, he says, “She should be helping you with these.”

Daisy pulls her arms back and swallows down some words, or maybe a couple of feelings, or maybe a sob. “Yeah, well.”

2. tell us about what you’re most looking forward to writing – in your current project, or a future project

the last sentence of the magnum opus!!!!!!!!!!

no, lmao, i’m gonna try to be serious. i really, really want to write some librarians fic in the near future? also MORE OF THE SENSE8 AU. i’m DYING to write some stuff about that. especially sam’s cluster, for some reason? Let’s Make Him Suffer (Comedically)! one day i’m gonna finish that list of what cluster/situation each song is about and then it’ll be over for all of us!

3. what is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

i spent about eight months imagining a scene where riza hawkeye was really injured and mustang was holding her in his arms (basically the promised day scene but with more privacy) so does that count?

hmm, just for some other possibilities: glinda telling dorothy about elphaba, laura somehow seeing or speaking to natasha during catws, a good omens au of the good place (specifically the ”i don’t even like you!” / “you doooooooo” scene), kencyrath au of star wars (ESPECIALLY THIS ONE, except setting up the first scene alone would take 7k, but i want to talk about leia and luke and their MESSED UP TRUST ISSUES in this au).

oh, also, something about star trek tng where jean-luc and beverly and jack were in love and then jack died and picard left. more specifically a scene set during the pilot episode where jean-luc very cordially offers beverly the option to transfer off the enterprise, that he wouldn’t dream of holding it against her, and beverly very cordially telling jean-luc to go fuck himself. i want to write 30k of that broken triad. i want it so bad. i dream of that fic. maybe one day when i find myself with a completely empty month or two, i’ll binge all of tng and Write Some Stuff.

4. share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

since you and i have tww in common, i’m gonna do a tww fic! otherwise i’d have to reread literally every fic i’ve ever written, lmao.

(this is long but i put this post under the cut so i have RIGHTS. also consider this a sneak peek for the j/d fic in the sense8 au?)

“It’s okay,” says Helen. She sits for a moment in silence, seeming thoughtful. “The Congressman and I are in the same cluster,” she says eventually. “I’d- I supposed that’s easier on the Secret Service?”

“Yes,” says Donna. “The-”

She stops herself from saying anything further. President Bartlet and the First Lady aren’t exactly quiet about who’s in their cluster, especially with senior staff, but that doesn’t mean she should go talking about it in an unsecured room in LA, of all places.

To cover for her blunder, she gives up something else: “The same with Josh. They got really lucky with him, actually. It’s just him and me, so they won’t have to worry about anyone threatening the Chief of Staff through the barista in the local Starbucks.”

Helen looks up from the Ohio numbers she’d drifted back to, a slow smile creeping up on her face. “Josh is in your cluster?”

“Uh-” says Donna, feeling like national security wasn’t worth whatever she’s just blundered into. Oops. “Josh- Josh is my cluster, ma’am.”

She catches her mistake the second it’s out of her mouth, but Helen doesn’t call her on it, more focused on other revelations. “No wonder you two look at each other the way you do!” she says, sounding delighted. Donna shuts her eyes, praying for this to go away. It’s not that she’s ashamed of Josh - it’s just so, so complicated, and other people never think about how difficult it was. Still is.

i’m just... i really liked the idea of donna fumbling and having to reveal this to cover up for what else she was going to say? i don’t know why i’m so charmed by this. i think it’s because it would be impossible in the show - you can’t show what someone was going to say on television, not without a lot of setup and very careful scripting. it’s just a really fun situation to write about and i’m really proud of this conversation in general.

also helen santos was a dream to write and i love her a lot. i kind of want to write one of the fics in the series about her and her cluster solely because like... look at her. she’s a delight in literally every scene. i love her.

5. what character that you’re writing do you most identify with?

daisy johnson!!! i love writing daisy johnson!!!! she is the most adhd character i’ve ever written and i literally just have to transcribe my own inner monologue and it works perfectly!!!!!

Swing shift: 1600 hours to 2400 hours. Daisy always ends up getting back to her quarters at like 0030 hours, when Jemma is asleep and Fitz is reading some kind of technical journal. Then she has to eat replicated pizza, alone, and freshly replicated pizza is actually pretty hot but it feels cold at that time of night, like, spiritually.

6. what character do you have the most fun writing?

...whoops i literally just answered that lmao. uh. i also really love writing sky masterson in the guys and dolls fic? she’s just weaponized hot queerness in a suit and i love her for it. she is intentionally trying to seduce this repressed lesbian and it’s really funny and also really hot of her and it’s so much fun to write.

also, i wrote chidi for the tgp fic and it was possibly the most fun i’ve ever had with a pov, although that was also because i was purposefully trying to mimic the tone of the show. i still think that line about michael and a grenade is, like, the funniest i have ever been in my life. but chidi’s panic was surprisingly easy to write? all of tgp’s characters have such STRONG voices, it makes writing fic ridiculously easy as long as you don’t get stuck on a plot for six months.

7. what do you think are the characteristics of your personal writing style? would others agree?

oof, this one is ALWAYS tricky. uh? uhh?? i’m going to ruin everything by saying this but i basically alternate between the same two sentence structures and i am really frustrated about it. i also alternate between the same two styles of endings and i always use the same beginning (set scene, main character pov, thoughts-as-exposition, back to scene).

BUT ON A MORE POSITIVE NOTE i like to talk about emotions and relationships and character development!! i have my “queer subtext goggles” superglued to my face, lmao. i like to think about how characters must have felt about things in canon and how it must’ve influenced them. i like making people deal with the consequences of their actions, especially how it’s influenced they themself. i also just really, really like writing people who love each other, whether it’s romantic or platonic or anything in between. i just want them to be happy! i just want them to stick together! doesn’t matter what fandom, i stand by it.

#loudwithlaughter #sb and l rambles #sb and l answers #sb and l is writing #thank you for sending this in!!!!!#now for literally All The Tags lmao #aos ds9 au #verse: fitzskimmons thingy #fic: you're a candle in the window #verse: and it's golden #mcu ideas #tgp ideas #st ideas #fic: help me hold on to you #fic: on that bumpy road to love #jesus CHRIST that was a lot of tags #okay okay i'm pressing post now #this was such a delight thank you SO much for sending it!#the steven roadtrip of self discovery fic

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gingernastyy · 4 years ago

Note

OOOU i saw your headcanons were open!! you’re an amazing writer and i love your characterization :) uhh do you got any fluffy headcanons to share for john/bonnie? if you want of course! again, wonderful writer you are!!! have a blessed day friend 💖😌✨

After the end of the gang John, outside of Dutch and what he taught him, really doesn’t know who he is. He doesn’t know what he wants in life, or what he aspires to do.

He kind of just follows what others want, sometimes for better or worse. In this case it’s building the house and barn that Abigail wanted. He feels guilty for how poor of a father he has been and feels he’s obligated, but also genuinely wants to help both Abigail and Jack in any way that he can.

It was more of Abigail’s dream to have the farm, but it gave him a sense of purpose. He enjoys the ranch life, it’s the busy work he misses from the gang.

Over the years, John and Abigail realize their feelings for each other- or in other words, the lack of romantic feelings for each other.

With Sadie being back in their life, healing from the stab wound in her side from hunting down Micah, Abigail becomes aware of the deep love she has for her. Maybe it was always just the forced pressure of others why she felt she needed a husband and the pressure of them having a kid together that made her feel she had to be with John. Sadie, Abigail and John have a long conversation about how they feel for each other. They come to the conclusion that though John and Abigail love each other it’s more in a platonic and friendship type of way.

Sadie quits the bounty hunting business. She teases the both of them about giving her the family bug but she is happy as all can be with Abigail. She had a bit of ranching under her belt from the time that she and Jake were together so she and Abigail continue working the ranch with Jack.

The four of them live together for a while, getting the ranch up and running. Sadie and Abigail, a happy couple and the three of them work to raise Jack together, John and Sadie working day after day to keep the ranch going. John and Abigail still present themselves as married to the public, to protect her and Sadie’s relationship.

Everything goes pretty smoothly until the consequences from finding Micah catches up with them. When the Bureau of Investigation takes Jack and Abigail, it’s both John and Sadie that work on figuring out how to get them back. All the time he took to get out of the life he gets roped back into having to hunt down Bill, Javier, and Dutch. He’s not exactly smart about it, he’s not proud of going up to Fort Mercer and getting shot.

He’s grateful that Amos and Miss Macfarlane find him when they do or he’s sure he would have bled to death.

It seems that whenever John is bed ridden, he wakes up to a pretty lady watching over him. As wonderful as that it is he would like to not be mauled by wolves or shot in the gut in order to see them. He also hates that the first time he meets Miss Macfarlane he’s in such an unpleasant position.

Right as he’s waking up she’s bombarding him with questions about what he was doing at Fort Mercer, how he knows Bill Willamson and in the same breath calling him an idiot. He likes her immediately.

When John gets the chance he sends a telegram to Sadie. Explain what happened to Abigail and Jack but leaves out the part about him being injured. It’s harder than getting a dog away from a bone for John to tell Sadie she should stay back and take care of the farm while he handles the situation. There’s nothing more threatening to him than, even though it is only the text read from a telegram, Sadie saying “I don’t care what you have to do, you go get my wife back John Marston.”

Unfortunately, until he’s healed he can’t focus on getting them back. But in the meantime, while he’s healing he grows quite fond of Miss Macfarlane and is a farmhand for her. She teases him more than any woman he knows but… he kind of likes it, keeps him on his toes. He certainly gives her plenty of things to tease him for.

John’s not always been the best with words, so when he’s explaining the situation he’s in to Bonnie he might have led her to believe he was actually married. It’s habit for him at this point, to protect Abigail and because he had been living for years believing he would marry her one day. It’s not exactly an issue until he’s been openly flirting with Bonnie. She puts her foot down and confronts him, poking him in the chest, “I ain’t that kind of woman John Marston so you need to quit that.” He knows he’s being scolded but he’s pretty sure he falls in love with her right there. John stumbles over his words and does his best to explain his situation with Abigail and Jack to make it clear that he’s not being unfaithful. But that just leaves them to stand there flustered because he was flirting with her and Bonnie might have let slip that she was attracted to John and enjoyed his advances but had been upset because she believed him to be married.

They might avoid each other for a little after that but if you asked them, they would deny it. John just got caught up with helping Marshal Johnson and Bonnie had the ranch to worry about.

They’re only able to avoid each other for a few days, John did need to work back the money he’d cost them and they missed each other. Bonnie asks John to walk the perimeter with her in the evening, which was clearly an excuse be he ain’t gonna turn her down. She tells him her father is real fond of John, “says your good husband material I believe is how he phrased it.” Drew finds John hardworking, reliable, and he appreciates his philosophies. “Thinks you’re much rather suited for me than any other farmer he’s met.”

John of course laughs, from the shock of it all and because he’d never thought someone would consider him husband material. As they head back to the house, John flusters Bonnie with his reply, “While marriage seems a little fast, I do appreciate having your father’s approval. But more importantly, do I have yours?”

John falls a little harder as he sees her pretend to think it over, “I ain’t decided yet,” but she’s grinning so big at him.

Every night after that John sees her off to bed, standing at the bottom of the porch stairs, wanting nothing more than to follow her inside but trying to somewhat take things slow, he takes his hat off and says real soft and sweet, “Goodnight Miss McFarlane.” Bonnie of course rolls her eyes at him and tells him to just call her Bonnie already, “I swear you’re such a gentleman it’s annoying.” John laughs in that way that makes Bonnie smile back and want to kiss him forever. “You’re the first person to ever tell me that,”

John keeps working around the farm, playfully asking Bonnie if he’s got that $15 covered from his doctor visit. She likes to pull the “hmm not yet, there’s plenty more work for you to do” and he responds with fake disappointment, “guess I’ll just have to stick around longer then,” all while smiling and winking at her. And maybe sometimes they end up holding each other and kissing for a little too long but who can really say?

After John helps with the barn fire, he asks if Bonnie would be willing to send some cattle to Beechers Hope after he’s finished. He plans to get some cattle for the farm for Abigail and Sadie, almost as a housewarming gift for them. He also brings up in that moment that he’s been thinking of gathering some of his things and bringing them to stay with her.

To say Bonnie was traumatized after everything with Bill Williamson’s gang would be an understatement, but she isn’t alone and John reminds her of that. Bonnie’s always had to be strong and independent, so she tries to keep it in and hide it from John but he won’t have that. He sits with her during late nights, after nightmares and when she’s too tense to sleep. He opens up to her about his own trauma, specifically the hanging from when he was a kid. They were already close but after that, they feel an even deeper bond. After one emotional talk, Bonnie opens up about how afraid she was, John sharing the same fear, he tells her he loves her.

When John has to go to Mexico, he sweeps Bonnie off her feet and pulls her into a kiss. Anything could happen as he goes after Javier so he makes sure to kiss her before he goes. It’s a habit he develops every time he leaves to go somewhere.

Abigail and Sadie both insist joining John in his trip to McFarlane’s Ranch after they get settled back in, taking corn with as a thank you and because they want nothing more than to meet the woman who’s got John Marston so flustered.

John discovers a new ring of hell with all three of them together to torment him and he expresses as much but really he’s smiling and to see the smile on Bonnie’s face is all worth it. He knows she loves him.

Sadie elbows him at some point, both of them watching Bonnie and Abigail chat away, and smirks at him, “She’s real cute, I can see why you got that dumb look all the time.” He of course tells her to fuck off as she laughs and laughs.

Abigail and Bonnie like each other a lot, Bonnie respects Abigail immensely and Abigail believes Bonnie is good for John, will keep him in line because god knows he could get into some trouble.

Bonnie pokes at John when she finds out that he doesn’t know how to swim. She questions him on how he is supposed to teach Jack if he doesn’t know how to swim and how does a grown man not know how to swim. She drops the teasing when she realizes that John is insecure about it and insists that she will teach him. John pulls a whole “not worth it or I’m not teachable” excuse with her and she returns with a “Oh are you just going to turn down my feminine charm and seeing me wet in swimwear?” It sure convinces John to get into the water. Bonnie is the only lady he knows that would still find him attractive after seeing him flailing as he tries to swim. He admits to her that it ain’t too bad but can’t help but still feels like a cat to water.

Even though they’re living together and really running the ranch together, John reminds Bonnie and everyone else that it is her ranch and he’s there to support her in any way he can.

Whenever John misplaces his hat, Bonnie is always the one who can find it. She says he’d lose his head if it wasn’t attached and kisses him as she places his hat back onto his head.

Bonnie is usually the one to wake up first but the rare times that John wakes before her he kisses his fingers and places it on her forehead or cheek. He doesn’t know how to put into words on how much he loves her.

At the end of their work day they talk and watch the sunset together. Bad days and sometimes even the good days they have a few drinks while they talk. Depending on what they are doing, there’s times that they don’t see each other until sundown. It’s not just chicken and cow talk, or just talk about the ranch, they bring up what they want to do the next day or what if they took a day trip somewhere. Amos and the other farmhands surely can handle the ranch for just one day.

They rebuild the barn together, John telling her about the first barn he’d built. Maybe he’s crazy but he swears, there’s a Bluejay sitting near and watching him this time too.

If Bonnie stares at John a little longer than probably appropriate while he’s working without a shirt, she’d never admit it and maybe John would stretch and show off a little when he catches her staring.

John and Bonnie get married in front of the barn at sundown, Hennigan's Stead was always gorgeous in the evening. Abigail, Sadie, and Jack are all there of course and they all spend the night laughing and talking together, celebrating.

Every night, Bonnie asks John about a different scar as they lie in bed together. He’s covered in them and after each story he tells, she kisses the scar. She teases him for being an idiot for a lot of them, most of them from his dumb choices. He gets the quietest about the bullet wound in his shoulder.

Fishing and practicing shooting is what they often do in their free time. Even after being in a gang for years, John thinks Bonnie is better than him when it comes to both. Seems like the years of him being out of the gang has made him a little rusty. At least with fishing he never was too good at it.

John, for the first time in his life feels he found happiness being with Bonnie and running the ranch with her. He’s found his purpose and he wants to hold onto it forever.

#rdr1 #rdr1 headcanons #John Marston #Bonnie Macfarlane #headcanons #rdr2 #Thank you so much tho! I'm glad you like my writing and I hope you like the way I wrote them!#also shoutout to Kell for reading over and helping me edit this!

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cupofcowboys · 5 years ago

Note

Would you be willing to write some fluff about Charles and the reader in Beecher’s Hope and he brings up going to Canada? Maybe he accidentally turns it into a confession/proposal? Either way thank you! Your writing rocks!

Canadian Dreams - Charles Smith x Gender-Neutral Reader

A/N: I kinda got carried away with this request. Who hasn’t dreamed about riding off to Canada with Charles? I sure have. A million times.

Anyway, this turned out way angstier than I really intended. What can I say,I’m a sad bitch™. I hope you still enjoy it, anon. I worked really hard.

TAGS: End Game Spoilers, Gender-Neutral Reader (fem leaning), SFT, Angst & Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Pining, Misunderstandings, Heartbreak, other such nonesense

3,660 Words

-♥️-

Staying behind to protect Abigail and Jack while John, Charles, and Sadie went after Micah seemed like a good idea at the time. They needed you more. As did the ranch, left unmanned for days would make it an open target. The Skinner Brothers had no reservations the last time security was lax. Yet as the minutes turned into hours, and the hours turned into days, a dreadful restlessness came over Beecher’s Hope.

Abigail paced about, snapping at everything and everyone, rarely taking her eyes off the gate, looking up at the remotest sound of hooves or talk. The work kept you both busy, but it provided no real distraction. Words exchanged were rare and tense. Even Jack was grateful to be put to work. His books couldn’t keep his mind off his father or distract him from his mother’s unease.

Uncle behaved unusually. He actually helped with the smaller chores, insisting that the men owe him when they get back and that the lack of their nagging was doing him some good. He was the only one who kept up some semblance of cheer, trying to break up the silence and tension with jokes and tales of the old days. At night he never failed to bring out the banjo, even when all were stony faced and exhausted.

You were grateful for his take on it. Any time he met you, he firmly reminded you they could handle themselves and that John was too stupid to die, anyway. You’d force a weak smile and nod each time, quickly returning to your work, wanting to give the impression that his words were a comfort. They weren’t.

The truth was, while you were concerned for John and Sadie, it was Charles you were most afraid for.

The idea that he might not come back terrified you. Worse was the idea he might come back in a state where you wished he hadn’t. A heavy, uneasy weight nestled in your gut as your thoughts twisted and mutated. The last time you had felt this way was in Beaver Hollow. It felt as though what happened there was reaching out to you across the years, embracing and caressing you with the soft whisper that you could lose your family all over again. It followed you like a dark cloud, haunting your dreams with nightmares that he was already dead.

-♥️-

The sound of hooves against the dusty earth interrupted a grim, silent coffee break with Abigail. She leapt up from her seat barely a second before you, her cup clattering to the floor as she sprinted out the door with you hot on her heels.

A pair of horses making their slow, steady way towards the house was the view waiting for you outside. Your eyes flicked to rear horse, the unmistakable silhouette of Charles was hunched over slightly in the saddle. Your heart leapt into your throat as you bounced anxiously on your heels behind Abigail.

At her shout, Uncle and Jack joined you on the porch, all eyes turned anxiously to the newcomers. The days of anxiety and fear came together to flood your veins with adrenaline and hope. You hardly dared breathe as John slipped off his horse and called out;

“It’s over, Abigail. It’s all over.”

The words and their meaning barely seemed to register before the relief overwhelmed you. It left you lingering on tenterhooks, momentarily stunned, teetering backwards and forwards on the balls of your feet. Then they carried you forward, following Abigail down the steps, but instead of towards John, you rushed to Charles.

He struggled out of the saddle, holding his left shoulder at an odd angle.

“Charles!” You cried out as you reached him. “I’m so glad yo- You’re hurt!”

“I got shot.” He grunted. “I should be fine, it’s not serious.”

“Let’s get you inside. I’ll… I can help you.”

You took his uninjured arm and walked him carefully into the house. Your nerves sang with joy that he was alive and back with you again, safe from harm. Meanwhile, your heart throbbed with anguish at his pained breaths as you steered him up the steps. At least you could take care of him now.

Carefully, you lead him into Jack’s room and had him sit on the bed. At your instruction, he removed his coat and shirt while you went off to fetch medical supplies. Abigail was tending to Sadie in the master bedroom, leaving you with what she could spare. You returned and sighed at the sight of his makeshift bandages. They were stained with blood both fresh and old; the ride back hadn’t been kind. He frowned as you reached out to gently unravel them, slowly revealing his wound.

“I already removed the bullet.” He informed you with a sigh. “Better to get it out before it heals.”

“That’s smart of you.” You smiled weakly, picking up your bowl of water and sitting by him on the bed.

You got to work on cleaning his injury. There wasn’t much you could do that he hadn’t already, and you were grateful for it. Charles always knew how to take care of himself. You felt almost foolish for worrying so much about him, yet even now your chest was tight with concern. Though he was a brave patient, the small hitches of his breath as you worked caused you great pain.

The warmth of his skin radiated off him in waves, making you all too aware of your closeness. You tried your best to ignore it, though it was no small feat. Combined with the urge to soothe his pain and reassure yourself that he really was alive, it took all your self control not to kiss him. Channelling all your focus onto cleaning him up helped, at least until you noticed he kept casting furtive glances at your face. You caught his gaze and held his eye contact, dropping your cloth into the now brown water.

Emotion pooled in your chest as you looked into his deep, brown eyes. A vivid memory came to you across the years of a situation just like this.

During the botched Blackwater robbery, Charles burnt his hand. As the gang traversed the mountains, you convinced him to let you help him with it. Together you sat in silence in the back of the wagon, his big hand in yours as you applied soothing balm and fresh bandages. Back then, your heart had raced as it had now, though that baby crush seemed laughable in comparison.

“I always seem to be patching you up.” You chuckled. “Ever since Blackwater.”

He flexed his hand, the corner of his lips twitching as he recalled the memory himself. You wondered briefly what emotion it conjured for him.

“I’m grateful for that.” He admitted.

“It was the first time we ever really talked.”

“That’s why I’m grateful.”

“Me too. You’re a wonderful friend, Charles.”

He flinched almost imperceptibly, whether at your words or the brush of your fingertips on his bare shoulder, you couldn’t tell. Now that he was all clean, you dabbed medicine on his wound and checked it was healing well. With nothing left to do, you began wrapping fresh, clean bandages around him.

When you were done, you helped him pull on a clean shirt and had him get into bed. After firmly instructing him that he was to spend a good few days in bed, you fetched him some fresh water and alcohol.

“Thank you.” He squeezed your hand and smiled.

“Of course.” You returned his squeeze and released him. “I’m… glad you’re back.”

“For a while I thought we’d be lucky to come back.” He confessed. “Micah was well guarded.”

“He always was more trouble than he’s worth.”

“He’s dead now.”

“I’m glad it’s over.” You sighed, letting yourself feel the relief you had been holding back. “I was scared.”

“Of what?”

“Losing my family to him again.”

Charles stared up at you from the bed. There was something in his expression that made you look away. Was it pity?

“Get some sleep, Charles.” You headed for the door. “You need it.”

He didn’t respond, and you closed the door without looking at him.

-♥️-

With your tender care and the startling vigour only Charles seems to possess, he was back to his usual hardworking self in no time. He always put the needs of others above his own and couldn’t stand inaction. It was a dangerous combination, especially when healing was involved. The four days he spent in bed seemed an eternity to him, even with the constant company and entertainment. He ached to get back to work and there was nothing you could do to stop him.

By the time John and Abigail had their wedding, he was strong enough to enjoy the festivities wholeheartedly. His joy at their union seemed almost unreal. He was happier for them than even they seemed, which should have been impossible.

Afterwards though, there was a shift in his mood. The reserved man you had once known returned, making you all too aware of how much he had changed.

You mused over his shift as you sat together by the campfire. It was a cool night, the sky above you clear and glittering with millions of stars, a slight breeze the only thing that stirred. Laughter rose from the distant house, reminding you why you were out here.

Charles held his harmonica in his hands, spinning it in his fingers and wetting his lips repeatedly. It seemed he intended on playing, but had yet to find the will to do so, too busy with his thoughts to notice his fidgeting.

“I think we’ll have to leave soon.” You said thoughtfully. “The Marston’s want their space.”

“I know.” He agreed, slipping his harmonica into his pocket. “I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“You did?”

“Where are you planning to go?”

You stared at him as you thought on it. You hadn’t considered it too closely. The truth was, you had nowhere to go. Your life since the gang had been a lonely one, spent wandering and scraping by. No place had ever been ‘home’.

“I…” You swallowed. “I figure I’d go back to wandering. Maybe find someplace to settle down. Not much of a plan I know but… since Dutch, I never really had a plan.”

There was a pause as he seemed to consider your words. As it drew out, you started to feel uneasy and embarrassed, so you switched tact.

“What about you?” You asked.

“Canada.” He hesitated and after a moment, continued; “I want to settle down. Get married, start a family. Seeing what John’s built here makes me wonder if I could have it too.”

That explained his broodiness.

You would be lying if you said you hadn’t been feeling the same way. The life you had watched John build for his family made you long for your own. Stability and love always seemed a distant dream to you, and yet John had built it through determination alone. You had plenty of that. The only thing you were missing was someone who loved you enough. You stole a hopeful glance at Charles with a familiar throb of longing.

Like a tidal wave crashing onto the shore, the realisation of what his words meant flooded your thoughts. Images of Charles in a distant, unknown land flickered in your mind’s eye. A sturdy wooden home built by hand. A beautiful woman with a blurred face, heavy with child. Young children laughing and running between trees. Their parents watching with matching warm smiles. A million miles away from you, hunched over a bar in some unknown saloon, alone and afraid again.

A bullet would have hurt less. Pain bloomed in your heart, spreading quickly through your veins until it left every inch of you numb. His plans didn’t involve you. That was clear from how he talked about it. You were right there, already desperately in love with him, and he planned to ride off to Canada in search of a stranger.

It took all your energy to ground yourself enough to manage a weak smile and words of encouragement.

“If anyone can build that life, it’s you, Charles.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” You reached out to pat his good shoulder encouragingly and got up.

Your throat was tightening and tears burning your eyes. You refused to let him see your reaction. He was a good man. If he knew how he had hurt you, however unintentional, he’d never forgive himself.

“I’m going to bed.” You announced, brushing yourself down and averting your gaze.

“Wait.” Charles urged, surprised by your sudden departure.

“Yes?”

“You’re more than welcome to join me in Canada.”

You couldn’t risk a glance at him. One look at his face and you’d lose yourself.

“I don’t think so, Charles.” You shook your head and turned away. “I don’t want to get in the way.”

You walked away before he could respond, bowing your head the instant you were out of sight. That night you cried yourself to sleep, silently screaming into your pillow.

-♥️-

The next few days were torture. Catching even a glimpse of Charles was enough to break your heart all over again. Hearing his voice, seeing him smile or just being near him was agony unending. You did everything in your power to avoid him; adopting chore after chore, skipping meals, feigning headaches and even resorting to hiding in strange and remote spots on the ranch. It still wasn’t enough. Your heart couldn’t heal while he was still around and yet imagining him leaving caused you so much pain you were certain it would kill you.

Time was ticking away in your head. Every day that passed was one less day you had with him. When he left for Canada, it was a guarantee that you would never see him again. The distance was too great and you could never bring yourself to visit anyway. You felt guilty just thinking about it. Your feelings shouldn’t get in the way of you being a good friend. Charles had always been there for you and he had even invited you to join him.

Longing for him mounted with each passing day. You wanted to immerse yourself in his company as much as possible, to enjoy the last of his light before it faded away forever.

This particular feeling was the worst. You’d find yourself gazing longingly at him, wishing he’d grow eyes and realise you were in love with him. It was a foolish hope. If he hadn’t realised by now, he wasn’t about to start. You knew the only way he could know was if you told him and you weren’t brave enough for that.

It was while you were gazing at him that you saw something to make your heart freeze over. He was sitting on the porch and whittling with his knife when Sadie came out. She squinted across the land, shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. You bent down to hide yourself behind the fence, pretending to tie your bootlace. You didn’t want her to catch you watching Charles.

When you stood back up, she had pulled up a chair beside him.

Her head was bent low, leaning in to whisper conspiratorially to him. You watched with a small frown as they talked quietly. It was obvious they were discussing something personal and intimate, something they didn’t want overheard. She reached out and gave his knee a firm pat. You swallowed and looked away.

Was it possible that Charles intended to go with Sadie?

They had never seemed all that close. They respected and protected each other, but they rarely spent time together. Perhaps they had grown closer over the past weeks as they recovered. Sadie hated being tied down as much as Charles did. They both loved to be active and useful, never comfortable sitting around. The actionable spunk Sadie had could easily be attractive to a man like Charles.

Even so, you couldn’t help feeling it was a poor match. At least the blurry faced woman in your head was familiar now.

Your bad mood radiated off you when you returned to work. The mare you were grooming stamped her hooves and tossed her head as you brushed, forcing you to pause to keep patting and soothing her. Usually you would give her space to calm down, but you were too preoccupied to care. You needed to do something. Anything to channel your energy.

Images of Charles and Sadie kept barging their way into your thoughts, making you irritated and depressed.

When footsteps heralded the approach of another, you glanced over your shoulder. Charles pushed the gate open to the paddock, his eyes on you as he gave a feeble smile. You weren’t in the mood to face him, so you looked away and gave the mare a pat on her behind, sending her cantering away. Returning to the barn, you dropped off the horse brush and made to leave.

Charles came up behind you and barred your exit, a serious look on his face.

“I need to talk to you.” He said.

“I have to help Abigail wi-”

“Abigail can wait.”

His words came out harsher than he had intended. He frowned and glanced down at his boots with a sigh. You crossed your arms over your chest, half to protect yourself and half to hold yourself together. You forced your expression to remain emotionless as you looked up at him. It was the first time you’d been alone together in days.

“I…” He fumbled with his hands, finding it hard to look you in the eyes.

You watched as he seemed to battle with himself. It was the first time you had ever seen him so clearly nervous. You waited patiently, your desire to keep him at arm’s length melting away.

“I want you to come to Canada… with me.” He finally managed to say. His voice was deep and raw with emotion, once again something you had never seen from him. You swallowed and shifted on your feet.

“I told you, Charles.” You sighed slowly. “I would just get in the way. I don’t want to ruin your chances.”

“I mean I…” He took a small step closer, extending his hands towards you in a subconscious gesture. “I want you to come with me and… and build a life… together.”

“You mean as friends?”

“I was kind of hoping maybe…” He swallowed and then sighed heavily. “As more.”

You stared at him as he finally met your eyes. He looked so vulnerable with his shoulders slightly hunched, an expression of uncertainty on his face. All at once you realised how foolish you had been. All this time he had felt the same, and you had acted so callously towards him. If he wasn’t braver than you, and it seemed he barely had been, then you both would have gone on with your lives, utterly heartbroken and never knowing you were loved. Your heart hammered in your chest as you secretly waited for some kind of punchline.

“Only if you want to.” He concluded. “You can still join me even if-”

“Charles, I-” You took a small step forward. “I don’t think you know just how much I would love that.”

“I think I do.” He breathed with relief.

“You do?”

You gazed into each other’s eyes, both silently astonished that your feelings were shared. The emotions you had been trying to suppress bubbled up to the surface and spilled over, tears starting to track down your face with relief.

At the sight of your tears, Charles closed the distance and swept you up into his arms. You wrapped yours around his broad back, burying your face into his neck. How many years had you longed to be held by him like this?

Far, far too many.

He squeezed you closer, almost as though he was afraid any moment you would vanish. You tangled your fingers in his hair and filled your senses with him.

“I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time.” He confessed, the rumble of his voice radiating from his chest and into yours. “How I feel about you.”

“Oh, Charles…”

“When we ran with Dutch, I could never find the right words or the right time.”

“I always thought you were too good for me.” You sighed, pulling away from him to look at his face. “I thought you could never be interested in me.”

“I thought that about you too. Even now I… wasn’t going to tell you.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Sadie.” He mumbled dryly.

“So that’s what that was about.” You grinned, imagining her giving him a thorough talking to.

“You saw that?”

“I did. When you told me you were going to Canada I thought… I thought that meant you didn’t want me.”

He sighed and cupped your cheek, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Oh, (Y/N).” He whispered. “I was trying to tell you then…”

“I always assume the worst.” You sighed, thankful it worked out in the end.

“I want to make up for lost time. The years we missed out on.”

“Charles… if we had gotten together way back then, we wouldn’t have to opportunity we have now. We couldn’t build a proper life together as outlaws. It’s better this way.”

“I know.” He smiled and released you. “Maybe it was supposed to happen now.”

You took his hand in yours and gave it a firm squeeze, which was quickly returned.

“Maybe it was. All I know is I can’t wait for the future.”

“I can’t either.”

Together you walked back towards the house, hand in hand. While Canada was still a mystery to you, the future looked bright. With Charles Smith by your side, loving you as you loved him, anything was possible.

-♥-

Masterlist

#charles smith #charles smith x reader #request #anon #rdr2 fanfic #abigail roberts #micah bell #john marston #uncle rdr2 #hanateawrite

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darlingsdevil · 5 years ago

Text

The Ballads of Rebirth (Arthur Morgan x Reader)

Chapter 7: Letters of Misfortune

Masterlist

•••

Charles hadn’t seen much of Arthur since Mahala’s death. Arthur didn’t deal with grief like other people did. He never had the chance to grieve before, he was too busy with helping the gang to ever grieve. The process was new to him.

He spent as much time as he could away from Charles’s home. He only returned in the late hours of the night, long after Charles fell asleep. Charles was never sure where Arthur went, the only telltale sign of Arthur ever returning home was the occasional note, telling Charles he would be out for a few days.

Arthur visited post offices around the states the gang had last visited. Everyday was a new post office. The mailmen were familiar with Tacitus Kilgore, the second Arthur stepped into the post office they would shake their heads. Arthur wasn’t sure what letter he was looking for, perhaps one from John, Sadie or you. It was risky business traveling around the states, especially with the threat of Dutch and Micah possibly lurking around. But no one ever recognized him. He held himself in a manner that was entirely from the old Arthur, people would have to truly take a good look to recognize him.

It was two months of searching, until he finally just told the post office masters to send any letter he received to the Valentine post office. He couldn’t truly embark on that journey to find you without any clues. He was going to honor Mahala’s last wishes if it was the last damn thing he ever did. Arthur was no religious man, but he prayed that he would find you one day and that a clue to your whereabouts would soon appear. He knew you were smart enough to get the hell out of anywhere the gang had last been, in case Dutch was lurking around. He thought it was strange that John had sent no letter to Charles though, considering that John knew where Charles last resided.

Arthur swallowed his pride and returned home to Charles after not finding any letters addressed to Tacitus Kilgore at the Valentine post office. He felt strange as he stood on the doorstep of the quaint home. Taima stood hitched by the tree, so Charles was definitely home.

He clutched the seed packet of daffodils in his hand, contemplating whether he should knock or just enter. Arthur lived here too, but he hadn’t been home in so long he didn’t want to spook Charles.

“Arthur!” A voice shouted from behind him. Charles.

Charles came quickly to Arthur, hugging him tightly.

“I’ve missed you. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you.” Charles laughed to his friend, releasing him.

“I know.” Arthur laughed along with him, still feeling strange.

They were silent for a moment, both men studying each other.

“Well, welcome back.” Charles said with a smile, opening the door for Arthur.

“Glad to be back.” Arthur said as he set down his satchel on the table.

“I have a letter. John sent it to me a day ago.” Charles said from behind him, hanging his coat up.

Arthur turned around, eyeing the ripped open letter in Charles’s hand. Charles handed it to Arthur, leaving Arthur to read the letter by himself.

He slowly pulled the letter out from the envelope, his hands shaking in anticipation. It was definitely John’s crude handwriting. It was like John wrote with his less dominant hand, while on a horse, and being chased by a pack of wolves while doing it. Arthur was never so glad to see his brother’s terrible handwriting.

2/18/00

Charles,

Abigail, Jack and I are in Detroit. I’m sorry for the late letter, but we’ve been so busy with the move. We’re hoping to head out to Canada. No one has recognized me yet, but I’m known for having a bad streak for people recognizing me and causing trouble, so I won’t be surprised if we’ll have to move again.

Sadie is in Illinois. We met her a few weeks back during our travels in Chicago. She’s starting a bounty hunting business apparently. I’m sure that work will treat her well.

Arthur’s wife is in Richfield. A city on the other side of the Grizzlies. If you visit her, you can’t miss the city, it’s big and upcoming. I haven’t had the time to send her a letter either, but I’m sure she’s doing well. Mrs. Morgan is a persuasive spirit. I’m sure she’s doing just fine with her new found life.

I’m not too sure how long we will be staying here, so please send a response soon. I hope you’re doing alright, Charles.

Regards,

John

Arthur had never felt so many emotions hit him at once. He felt ecstatic, nervousness, love, a thousand things. You were alive. You were settling down, something Arthur had always wanted for you. He prayed you were still in Richfield. Arthur was sure you were still running scams and causing mischief in this sparkling new city, like you always did.

“It seems like you’ll be leaving me again.” Charles entered the room again. Arthur gingerly set the letter down, as if it were the most valuable thing in the entire universe.

“I have to look for her.”

“I know. I hope you find peace with her, Arthur. I’m sure she’s still waiting for you too.”

Arthur gripped onto his friend’s words like they were something precious, leaning against the table.

“But first, you have to plan this out. If you don’t find her within a month you’re coming back and we’ll wait for another letter.” Charles said, giving him a knowing look. He was right though, if Arthur didn’t find you he’d end up in Richfield looking for you forever.

“I’ll take the next train out. If I don’t find her within a week, I’ll come right back. If I find her, I’ll take her home.”

•••

“Mr. Rinascita?” You called out from the front of the store. Lee’s father went to go retrieve a restock of apples from the back room, but he was gone for ten minutes, no sounds came from the back room either, making you worry. It was deathly quiet. You waited until the customer you were helping had left to search for him.

It was only you and Mr. Rinascita at the store today, Lee was meeting with some suppliers down by the pier to discuss business, but he promised he would be back by three, and it was two-thirty.

You stepped into the dimly lit room, and Mr. Rinascita lay against the floor, breathing heavily. You rushed to his side, helping him up.

“Doctor.” He mumbled, his head laying limply on your shoulder.

You leaned him against the counter as you flipped over the open sign on the door, pulling him out of the door as quickly as you could.

The doctor was on the same street as you, luckily being one of the few original buildings in the city meant that they were all on the same street.

You nearly burst into the doctor's office, you struggled to hold onto Mr. Rinascita. The receptionist hurried to your side, helping you carry him into the doctor's office. She told you to fill out some information at the front desk and assured you the doctor would be in momentarily. You decided it would be better if you waited for him, not wanting to intrude on his privacy.

The receptionist allowed you to use the phone at the front desk, you never used one before. It was a strange concept, there was one in the general store, but only Mr. Rinascita and Lee used it.

You hated the doctor's office since that fateful day in Saint Denis when Arthur passed out in the street. That was his death sentence, you saw him die that day.

•••

You spotted Arthur leaning against the lamp post. The air was thick and heavy, too humid for your liking. The swamps of Lemoyne created a thick air that fell over the city, and you absolutely hated it. It was late June, which meant it was even hotter than usual.

He had been coughing more than usual. You assumed it was stress or some strange illness he had picked up while in Guarma. Disease ran rampant on ships, he could have caught it there too.

Arthur noticed you walking up to him, and you gave him a quick peck on the cheek as he continued to cough.

Your mind filled with worry when you noticed the panicked look on his face. He couldn’t stop. Your husband's chest heaved and his eyes became clouded with pain. Blood splattered from his mouth as he fell to the dirty street.

A scream erupted from your throat. The patrons of Saint Denis averted their eyes to look at you. Only one man came to help you.

He carried Arthur to the doctor’s office while you trailed behind, your hands trembling and your eyes filling with tears. The receptionist called to you once you tried to follow Arthur into the office.

“Miss, I think it’s best if you stay out here for a little while.” Her voice was sweet and soothing, but you needed to be with him.

“I- I need to be with my husband.” You stuttered through tears, attempting to wipe them away and the woman nodded with a sad smile. You entered the small office, Arthur’s blue eyes slowly opened, and they widened at the sight of you. He looked terrible, and it broke your heart.

“No, no, honey, you have to leave,” He mumbled, his chest shuddering. Tears fell freely from your eyes, and you shushed him.

“There’s no way in hell I’m leaving you.” You turned away from him, not being able to bear looking at him. You wiped the tears from your face, trying to put on a strong face for him.

•••

Lee rushed to the office as quickly as he could the second he received the call. You nervously bit your fingernails, a habit you had picked up while escaping Dutch and Micah. It had been awhile since you’d bitten them down, but life hadn’t been too stressful since then.

You stood up and walked to him, handing him the rest of the paperwork you couldn’t fill out.

He sat plopped down against the rickety chairs, moving his hands through his dark hair, sighing heavily before beginning to scribble some words onto the paper. You eyed him cautiously, taking his strong hands in your own. They were cold still, he had probably just gotten back from the pier.

You were in his position many months ago, you knew exactly how he felt, hopeless and filled with uncertainty.

Mr. Rinascita had complained of chest pains, and had little appetite, but being the stubborn man he was, he refused to get it checked out, claiming it was just his old age.

After a few moments, the doctor called you back.

The doctor entered after a few painstaking moments.

The doctor held the door open for you and Lee.

The doctor examined Arthur’s lungs through a stethoscope, as he sat breathless against the chair.

The man asked you to sit down next to the examination chair, Lee’s father sat unreadable on the leather seat.

The doctor pulled out a pipe, with a frown on his face, you begged him to tell you what was wrong. Arthur coughed, more blood fell onto his sleeves.

The doctor waited for a moment before speaking.

“He has tuberculosis.”

“I believe Mr. Rinascita may have cancer.”

You gasped, covering your hand with your mouth. Lee held your hand in an iron grip as he stared at the floor.

Those few words were like a stab to the chest. Quick and painful.

“I’m sorry.” Both doctor’s had said to you. What could they possibly be sorry for?

#tbor

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reddeadtwofics · 5 years ago

Text

Unforgotten Love

This is short and kinda junk i feel like but i had it in my head for the past few days and well here we go i wanted to think on doing more for it maybe even give Charles some headcanons with his daughter but i dunno. let me know if you all wanna read it or want me to do it.

Word Count - 284

Pairing - Charles Smith x Reader

Summary:

Charles though you have been dead for years, from the last time he seen you with a gun shot to the chest. yet after he leaves and you are taken with Sadie and Abigail you live, but you also hold something that you never got to tell Charles.

_______________________________________________________

John leaned back in the wagon as he lead the horses on the trail. Uncle was trotting along on his own horse talking and talking. John kinda wished the man would shut up already he has been dealing with him for so long already. Starting and trying to tune out Uncle John moved his eyes to glance at Charles sitting next to him. He was glad he was alive, hell he thought no one survived from the past, but he was glad to be wrong in that after seeing Tilly, Mary-Beth and Perison.

Charles was lost in his mind thinking, his brows tightly knitted together as he had his head lower, his face had a cut on it from his fight as well as a forming bruise over his cheek of his dark skin. He was holding a paper in his hand, or well a picture in his hand. Running his thumb over it lightly. John chewed the inside of his cheek as he knew who it was and maybe what he was thinking hell he knew something he wanted to shout to him and let him know but knew it wasn't his place to tell him.

Uncle seemed to grow quiet for once as they rode, the only sounds of the horses hooves over the ground as well as the groan of the wagon as it moved along. “Charles um.. Trying to think of how to touch the subject of you he fixed the reins in his grasp before sighing loudly. “y/n-” “she's gone.. I know” Charles mumbled with a frown feeling his eyes burned with pain. “Charles, y/n is-” “John, please stop mentioning her, i know what happened she was shot in the chest before i left i seen it, she's gone” “Will you just shut up and listen to me” John snapped at him turning his body to face Charles. Charles glared at him, one of the rare times Charles started to get mad. His heart aches for you it hurt and made him break down.

He remembers those nights without you around at first sleepless nights as he didnt want to see the nightmares that haunted him. The fight of your body falling to the ground with a scream. The red stain that spread on your shirt as Charles was dragged away from you. Shaking his head he wanted that memory gone, the time he lost the love of his life. The only person that seemed to capture his head and make him open and fully relax, the love he felt still burned there but with the ache.

“Boy, just listen to John will you!” Uncle shouted over his shoulder as he was riding ahead some. Charles sighed before looking at John. “what” “Y/n is alive, she didn't die from that wound Charles, she is alive. When she was shot she ended up leaving with Sadie and Abigail getting out of here before she was really killed. “What” “she's alive… and well, there is something also you should know but i feel that's not my place to say what” “did… did she leave with abigail?” “No, she stayed… She told me she wanted to leave with them, but um.. Well she stayed with me, she's at the land I own right now”

Charles grew silent as his mind was on you, alive.. And still around he didn't know if he was even ready to come face to face with you again, would you still love him? Hate him? Did you find another man already? John turned his attention to the rode but sighed as he could just feel it radiating off Charles the worry. “She misses you Charles” John said softly to try and attempt to fix the problem or well maybe try to calm Charles down a little.

Sitting outside your tent you hummed softly sowing a hole in a small dress. It was not the best place to live and you did miss the ranch that you and John stayed on for a while, but i was nice not to be looking over your shoulder all the time for law. Looking at the rundown shack on the property you wondered what john would do for it he was talking before on may be building something else here an actual home. John felt bad about dragging you here but you still felt safe, he was family to you as close as an older brother. You were around the gang from a young age joined not soon after they picked up little John Marston. You thought about the past and how it used to be, the hell you and John would give Arthur.

With a small laugh you shake your head pausing in sewing the hole. “Mama? What are you laughing about?” a soft voice said next to you. Sitting there was your daughter a sweet child that was the age of 11. “I was thinking of Uncle John and Uncle Arthur” you said softly to her. She nods seeming to try and guess in her mind again on what it was holding a toy close to her chest thinking. She was a quiet child, you were glad for that, but she also looked so much like her father. She had Charles nose and hair, as well as your eyes. She was quiet and reserved like him liking to watch the things around her and observe.

“You look just like your papa” you said softly moving to brush hair out of her face and place a kiss on her head. “You always say that mama” “cause it's true Rose… you have his nose” you said softly placing your finger on her nose making her wrinkle it up. “You also have his cheeks” you said moving your other hand to place both hands on the side of her face looking down at her with love. “You also have his hair” sliding a hand to her hair you brushed the bangs out of her face. “... you loved him didn't you mama” with a soft smile you nod holding tears back placing a kiss on her forehead. “Every day… you would love him, and he would have loved you more than anything in the world”

Rose gave a small sad smile. She wanted to know what her father was like, who he was and what he sounds like. Uncle John told her he was a large man, but a kind man at that who had a calm voice and never seemed to yell. Aunt Abigail also told her that she looked just like him and acted like him as well. Told him of what little she knew of his blood, that her grandfather was a black man and her grandmother was a indian women. Her mother would tell her stories of these days leaving and going hunting in the woods and sleeping under the stars.

Rose looked at the fire in front of them. It was around noon and it was a little hot but they liked to keep the fire going, mostly as it was cooking there dinner for later tonight. Rose smiled a little thinking about the stories from her mother and fathers past about a man who would cook all the time and it was so bad. She was glad her mother knew how to cook. Getting up with her doll in hand she started to walk around. “Don't go to far Rose… I don't want you getting hurt okay” you said softly she nods and picks up a large stick playing around with it. Watching her play alone made you miss having young Jack around. Jack loved her, even if he was a quiet boy who kept his face in books. He was there for her, almost like an older brother to her even with how meek and shy jack was.

Watching her play around with random sticks and rocks almost making up a game in her own mind you sighed rubbing your eyes as you felt the tears wanting to come up again. It has been close to 11 years from the last time you seen Charles. You wanted to tell him, wanted to get him away from the gang when you found out you were pregnant with Rose. yet, you never were able to tell him.

Hearing the loud heavy hooves on the ground come up from the entrance you gave a soft smile to the man coming to stop his heavy horse. “Good to see you in once piece still Uncle” Uncle gave a chuckle as he slowly got off his horse with a grunt. “It's nice to see you as well, now where is little Rose?” “over there playing” you said softly pointing at her where she was chasing a lizard around.

“So are you finally going to tell me where you and John rushed off to so early this morning?” you asked crossing your arms staring Uncle down. “It's a surprise my dear girl” he said placing a hand on your shoulder turning you around with your back to the entrance. “Now, we found someone over in saint Denis-” “i thought john hated that place” “Uncle paused before shaking his head. “Y/n we-” “Y/N!”

John shouted your name as the game rushing in with a wagon. He told uncle to not take off and tell you, John told him to wait but he didn't listen at all. Turning around to see John your eyes locked on the body next to him. The body was almost like looking at a ghost. Your whole body locked up. Sitting there was Charles looking just as shocked. Charles was not ready to see you, or well he was but he was scared and anxious.

John brought the wagon to a stop not moving yet. Charles slowly got down from the wagon and stood there his mind trying to process on what to do or even say. You ended up breaking the long silence and pain as a cry left your mouth rushing forward. Charles stepped closer opening his arms to welcome you. Clutching his short as your just above shoved yourself into him. He was still all muscle tall as ever. Large ugly fat tears filled with pain rolled down your face as you buried your face into his clothing clutching onto him staining his shirt. Your loud cries muffled into his shirt as you wailed.

Charles refused to move even try to pull you away, He burried his face in your head close to your neck as he also let tears go. His breath shaky with a whisper of your name. He didn't say anything at all as he let his emotions fly. Your legs started to get weak as you slowly slipped down some. Charles held you up, but his own body was so shaken he brought you both to the ground on your knees in a tight embrace letting you cry your heart out to him.

John got down watching them as he stood next to uncle letting them have their moment. “Uncle John.. Uncle? Why is Mama crying? Did he hurt her?” Rose asked softly behind John grabbing his lag to look out from behind. John tensed as he was still iffy on how to handle Rose, hell he didn't even know how to handle Jack when he was round. “Um.. no Mamas fine just… she is uh” rubbing the back of his head he didn't know what to say watching them both.

Charles pulled away a little moving his large hand to your face brushing hair out of your face as well as trying to clear some of the tears that rolled down your face. “Much more beautiful then i remember” he whispered. Hearing his voice again made you give a wide smile with a small laugh and cough. “Charles.. You just… i…” unable to form words again you just shake your head with another laughing sob. “Your alive” Charles give a nod looking at your face looking over everything burning it into his mind.

“Mama?” a soft voice said behind you. Rose stood there holding her doll close to her chest with a slightly scared look on her face. Rose wasn't sure what to make of it, seeing her mother on the ground crying loudly clutching into a man. “Mama?” Charles repeated looking at you then at Rose. with a sniffle you moved back but stayed close to Charles getting to your feet as well him standing. Rose gave a whimper seeing how large this man was. Looking like a scared little fawn she shuffled closer to you gripping onto the dress you wore.

“Charles… I would like you to meet Rose” you said softly trying to clean your face up a little. Turning you placed a hand on Rose’s back bringing her forward. Kneeling down some you placed both hands on her arms and rub her arms to try and give some comfort. “Rose… this is Charles… you remember what I told you before of a man named Charles?” Rose didn't answer as she looked up at Charles. “This is.. He's your papa”

It was quiet as Charles and Rose looking at each other. Charles felt his heart break. He never knew you were pregnant, he never knew he had a child, a daughter. Someone he missed out on for most of their young life. Kneeling down to her he looked at her. It was looking at himself but as a girl, she had his hair and skin almost as dark as him, his nose and cheeks but your striking eye color and eyes. “Rose” he mumbled softly testing the name on his tongue. Trying to think of what to say to try and break the ice Rose did it already. She gave a sniffle looking at him. She could remember all the stories from Uncle, John, Abigail and even from Jack of what he could remember. How many times you would talk about her and have to stop because you would start to cry and tell you how good of a man he was.

Rose stepped forward and wrapped her small arms around Charles chest keeping herself there. “Mama… told me about you and everyone” she mumbled into his chest. It was weird to hug him, but she felt from all the stories she knew him already. Charles wasn't sure what to do but smiled wrapping his arms around her. Picking her up close to his chest he reached an arm out pulling you close hugging both of his loves.

Later that night as Uncle and John already went to sleep you sat on a log next to Charles leaning on him as between his legs Rose sat on the ground, her head resting on the side of Charles leg, she gave soft snores as she fell asleep from Charles braiding her long black hair. “She's beautiful” charles mumbled to you as he leaned his head on yours. “Like her mother” he added on with a soft kiss to your h/c hair.

It was quiet before you sighed looking down at her. “I should go put her in the tent… she's going to hurt her neck sleeping like that” Charles stopped you from moving and turned to slolwy pick her smaller bopdy up in his large arms. “I got her” he whiserped now wanting to wake his daughter.

He took her to the tent you both shared and laid her down on her bed roll covering her body with a blanket kissing her head. Charles stared at her thinking to himself, he loved her. She was everything to him. Slowly closing the tent leaving it slightly open he walked back over to you sitting down. “She's a sweet child” you said softly poking at the fire to move it around. Charles picked up a log placing it into the fire to keep it alive.

“She reminds me so much of you… every little detail” you mumbled looking up at him as he stood there. Sitting back down on the log he wrapped his arm around you giving you a strong and love filled kiss on your lips.

“I thought you died back then” he whispered when both of you pulled away from the kiss looking at each other's eyes. Shaking your head you placed your hand on his. “No.. Arthur helped me get away, same with Sadie and Abigail” you said softly. Your heart still aches for hearing of the man you called your brother. The way he risked himself to get the rest of the gang out and get away to try and live.

Charles brought you closer to his body kissing you. “I am more than grateful for that man” he mumbled. “I.. I love you so much y/n” Charles mumbled holding you close. “I love you to Charles” you mumbled with a small shake in your voice. You both ended up sitting on the ground that night by the fire falling asleep in each others arms. Happy and live.

#rdr2 #rdr2 x reader #charles smith #charles smith x reader #red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #uncle #john marston #spoilers i think?#queen #mine #my writing

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oddcoupler222 · 6 years ago

Note

I think you've mentioned you've been reading more lesbian books that arent fanfic, any recommendations?

YOU BET YOUR ASS I DO

1. Behind the Green Curtain by Riley Lashea -

(legitimately the best romance I have ever, ever read. I recommend it to anyone who loves lesbian romance and if you follow me, I assume you do)

In which - Caton has a job that she doesn’t love but it pays the bills… And she has to put up with Jack, her sleazy as fuck boss. Her sleazy as fuck boss who then hires her for an obscene amount of money to be his wife, Amelia’s, personal assistant.

Caton intends to keep her head down. Just get the work done and make her money, ignoring how incredibly hot - and emotionally cold - Amelia is, but her attraction to her makes that very difficult.

Caton and Amelia embark on a torrid affair that starts with crazy hot but confusing sex, because Caton doesn’t understand where exactly she stands with Amelia. It gradually turns into one of the most meaningful/deep love stories guaranteed to hit you deep in the emotions.

Honestly. Read it. You won’t regret it. The only caveat I can think of is technically that there is adultery, but Jack is the biggest scumbag who has affairs of his own so.

2. All That Matters by Susan X Meagher -

Blair Spencer’s life seems to be going pretty well. She’s a highly successful real estate agent and is married to David, who respects that she is highly independent and likes to live her own life. The hitch in her life is that they are struggling to have a baby, and while she is all for adoption, David desperately wants a biological child.

They go to a practice that specializes in fertility, and while there she meets Kylie Mackenzie, a lesbian surgeon. Kylie is brilliant, funny, and beautiful, but remains single because she doesn’t want to settle for anything less than that passionate, all-consuming kind of love.

Realizing that they have a lot of interests in common after seeing each other out around town, Blair and Kylie strike up a friendship. Over the next months/year, Blair’s marriage starts to crumble and their friendship grows impossibly deeper, giving way to Kylie falling in love with her supposedly straight best friend and Blair learning about what it means to really fall in love.

It’s hard to describe without going into a ton of plot detail, but let me assure you that this is really the best best best friends to lovers journey and I guarantee it will move you.

3. Who’d Have Thought by G Benson - in case you’re looking for a fake romance, don’t you worry… I’ve got you

Hayden Perez is a nurse in New York, who - for a few reasons - is struggling to make ends meet. She comes across an ad late one night in which someone is offering 200,000 dollars to get married for a year, no questions asked. She does realize how crazy it sounds and doesn’t seriously want to do it… but the money is too good to turn her back on.

It gets especially difficult when it turns out that the person behind the offer is Samantha Thomson, a neurosurgeon who works at the same hospital, who comes off as cold and rude at work, and is someone she’s never especially liked.

Now she’s supposed to convince everyone, including her best friend, that she is so in love with a woman she notoriously has disliked, that she wants to rush into marriage with her - plus the fact that you know, she has to move in with and get married to said woman - should be no problem. At all.

The book I read that got me into the rabbit hole of lesbian romance novels! Two compelling leads and an engaging plot… it’s the best fake romance I’ve found. The biggest hang up I had going into it is that it is somewhat of an age gap which isn’t hugely my thing as you may know. But there’s no other power dynamic at play or anything and I can lose myself enough in the plot.

Those are my, in order, top 3 would recommend to anyone, lesbian romance novels.

and because I’m me, guess who is going to recommend even more!

- Damage Control by Jae -

The incredibly beautiful and talented Grace Durand is an America’s Sweetheart kind of actress. Which means it doesn’t bode well for her career when rumors flair up that she’s not exactly straight - which, she is (so she thinks).

In an effort to squash the rumors, she hires a new publicist, Lauren Pearce… without realizing that Lauren is a lesbian.

Lauren has been in/around Hollywood for her entire life and has seen it all and dealt with it all. At least, she thought she had, before she realizes Grace really is a sweetheart and suddenly she might be dealing with her own work life nightmare of falling for a client.

(Honestly, I’ve never been like blown away by a book by Jae, but I’ve read almost all of them because they are all very solid and engaging. So if a book by Jae appeals to you by the plot, I would definitely recommend it)

Just For Show, also by Jae -

Claire Renshaw, an anal retentive, compulsive yet amazingly successful couples therapist, seems to have everything going for her: a fiance that she’s been with for years and is almost done with her book about how to make it last as a couple… until her fiance breaks up with her at their engagement party, and she finds herself in a lurch with her book deal, because who wants to buy a book about making your relationship last from a couples therapist who can’t make her relationship last?

In comes out of work actress, Lana Henderson, who doesn’t realize until after her “audition” that she’d been auditioning for the role of Claire’s fiance. They couldn’t be more different, with Claire’s strict rules and serious demeanor and Lana’s more impulsive, cluttered lifestyle, but they just have to make it through until Claire’s book contact gets signed, and then they can go their separate ways. Unless opposites really do attract…

(not as great, imo, as a fake romance as Who’d Have Thought, but a light and entertaining read just the same)

- Scissor Link by Georgette Kaplan -

Wendy Cedar is an employee at Savin Aerospace with a massive crush on her boss, recent divorcee, Janet Lace. After Janet accidentally stumbles upon Wendy’s email about a sex dream she’s been having, she decides to see if the reality can live up to the fantasy. But when the relationship starts to be more than a kinky office romance, the two have to decide if they can make it as a couple or if they were better off as boss and employee.

(Plot-wise, this is admittedly not the most solid tale. It’s good! But could have been better. But honestly, Wendy as a character is hilarious and so engaging, it was easy to let go of any issues I had with anything else because she won me over completely)

- Love All by Rachel Spangler -

Throughout her long career, professional tennis player Jay Pierce has been burned by both players and the press. She’s learned the hard way that she can trust no one and nothing, especially her own judgment. So, when she starts one last career comeback, she knows the only hope she has to redeem her legacy is to go it alone.

Sadie Larsen knows virtually nothing about the world of professional tennis when her daughter, Destiny, breaks onto the women’s tour at the age of 17. She learned everything she needed to know about single parenting on her own, and she knows she can do the same now that the stakes are higher than ever—all she has to do is stay laser-focused on protecting her family of two.

Neither Jay nor Sadie expects the path ahead to be easy. Each believes she’s prepared to face every single challenge with the stony resolve of a woman who has been counted out and bet against her entire life. The only thing neither woman had counted on was each other.

As Jay and Destiny fight their battles on the court, Sadie and Jay fight their attraction off it. Can they survive the crushing crucible of competition, press pressure, and parenting, or will love all really mean no one goes home a winner?

(once again, much like Jae, most books by Rachel Spangler are pretty good. But this is by far the best I’ve found, and also the best sports related romance)

soooo, yeah! I have some other recs but these would be my top - especially the first 3. and especially the first 1.

#book recs #honestly let me know if you read any of these #ESPECIALLY behind the green curtain #behind the green curtain is criminally underrated in lesfic #and i love and adore it

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hoeseamatthews · 6 years ago

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Oh, Memories

A/N: Just another lil idea I had, enjoy! And a massive thank you to @morlawny for giving this a proof read for me beforehand❤

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,168

Warnings: Major game spoilers!

Summary: You finally muster the inner strength to pay your respects to Arthur.

You scuff your boots on the loose stones that lay on the trail while you trudge along to the end of the cliffside, and you take in the sight of the snow capped northern peaks of Ambarino off in the distance when you finally stop walking. There’s no mistaking that you’re at the right place. It’s absolutely beautiful, and Charles definitely needs to be thanked for choosing this spot for him. You make a mental note to do so the next time you see him.

It’s been a few days shy of three months without Arthur, and time certainly hasn’t began to heal any wounds. At least not yet, anyway. For weeks, you’ve been postponing this journey. Not because you don’t want to do it, but because you know exactly how hard it’s going to be for you, and you’ve still been trying your best to lay low after everything that’s transpired. But you’re finally here, and you’re doing this. Today is the day.

You look down at the flowers adorning Arthur’s grave, and that alone brings a despondent smile to your face. Some are beginning to wither, and some look more colourful, more lively than others, so clearly some people have been visiting. It just goes to show that he was loved. Is still loved by many out there. You have no qualms about that.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come see you sooner.”

Fighting against the lump that sits in your throat, you address him, and the tears already begin to involuntarily spill over your waterline. You reach out, slowly, tracing fastidious fingers along the engraving on the wooden cross that marks where Arthur lays, and you only upset yourself even more.

“I been meaning to. It’s just...things’re hard without you, Arthur. I’m strugglin’.” you manage through harsh intakes of breath as your body shudders with sobs, “H-Havin’ to start all over, lay low, all that. It’s hard. And...and it don’t feel right, ‘cause you ain’t here with me. I-It just ain’t fair.”

A minute passes by, and you use that time to compose yourself. The waterworks don’t completely stop, but you manage to calm yourself down enough to talk some more. You have so much to say, you’re worried about forgetting some details. You don’t know a great deal about where some of your friends are now, but you decide that updating Arthur with what you do know is good enough, better than nothing at all.

“John, Abigail, and Jack. They’re alright. They made it, thanks to you. Sadie, Tilly, they’re alive, too. Don’t know where they all are now, but they’re alive. I know that much. Seen Charles, too. Gave me the directions to where you are. He put you here, y’know? Went back for you, came and put you where ya woulda wanted to be.” you briefly rub at your nose and clear your throat, “And me? I’m...gettin’ by. Barely. Strugglin’, like I said, but I’m alive. It’s been hard on me. I’m hidin’ out in a shack somewhere for now, but I’m just...lonely. I ain’t got nobody.”

You groan and inwardly curse, willing more tears away. You didn’t want to spend your entire visit crying, but you knew this was going to be emotionally taxing for you. In an effort to regain some control over your emotions, you preoccupy yourself with the surroundings, mainly the view of the evening sky. With impeccable timing, you find yourself staring directly at the sunset. You’re sure that Arthur loves seeing such a view every evening. Tangerine hues merge with a magenta sky as the sun sets, and the hills below the peaks blush a delicate pink through the kiss of soft light. The dusky sky intensifies over time, your face still aglow with the remainder of the orange rays while the man you love makes his way back into your thoughts.

“I been thinkin’ ‘bout you lately. A lot. Wishin’ you was here with me, how much I love you, all the things we done together. God, we got plenty of stories to tell folk, don’t we?”

A soft chuckle precedes a yearning sigh, and plenty more memories all seem to come back to you in that moment. All pleasant ones. No negatives. While your relationship was far from being the equivalent of something you’d be likely to read in a storybook, you choose to remember the good things, and the flicker of a smile graces your features.

You fondly remember the day you and Arthur had first met, when you’d first joined the gang at camp. He’d actively made an effort to make you feel welcome, right from the beginning, and you’d both quickly became friends after bonding during nightly games of dominoes, even poker, if he wasn’t absent from camp for several days on end.

The first time you went fishing with him is another that comes to mind, and how the size of the damn bass you’d hooked had almost dragged you into the water when it fought with you on the other end of the line. He’d dropped his own rod and immediately rushed to your aid, and you laughed about it over dinner that night, reciting the events of that particular catch to the rest of camp with full bellies.

And how can you possibly forget the very first time he’d told you he loves you? He’d practically laid himself bare for you out of the blue that one evening, and it took you by surprise, but you were elated that he felt the same way as you did. He was very...to the point about his feelings for you, in typical Arthur fashion. You wouldn’t have had it any other way, either. You knew his words were sincere, and the giveaway was all in the eyes when he’d told you. Those eyes never lied, at least not to you, anyway.

Smiling despite the tears, you sniffle as they slide down your cheeks, and you swipe them away with the pad of your thumb. You snap yourself out of your reminiscent reverie, and you smile down at Arthur’s final resting place. Crouching slightly, you place fresh flowers down, ones that you’d picked not an hour or two before you set out for here.

“I know I’m a long way off it right now, but...one day, I think I’m gonna be alright.” you slowly rise back up to your feet to stand at your full height, your eyes remaining fixed on the cross engraved with his name, “And...one last thing. I got somethin’ to tell ya. It’s...quite a surprise.”

A surprise, indeed. One you were oblivious to until you absolutely had to pay the doctor a visit a few weeks back, just to be certain. Arthur never found out before everything went to shit, but it won’t stop you from telling him now. Slowly, you raise a hand to your stomach, and you caress the small bump over your dress.

“We’re both gonna be alright.”

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan/reader #rdr2 fanfic #rdr fic #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead 2 fic

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missmensis · 5 years ago

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Give us the Wind, Give us the Storm; 8/??

pairing: Arthur Morgan / Fem!Reader/OC

summary: Chapter 8 / ?? (read all chapters here)

A/N: I post this in on all chapter notes, but just an FYI - it is a reader POV; however, I chose not to use “Y/N” in the story because I do believe it kind of takes you out of the story if you have to read this and insert your name. So the Reader has been given a name, a personality, you can view it as an OC but from the reader’s perspective.

read it on AO3.

You sat on the log facing the lake, your arm around Abigail, as she cried into your shoulder.

“It’s-it’s goin’ to be okay, Abigail,” You did your best to soothe her but it was futile, “Arthur, John, and Dutch, they’ll help figure it out. We’ll find him, I promise.”

She didn’t respond, only heaved uncontrollably. Sadie rubbed her back on the other side of the log, her brows furrowed, looking like her thoughts were going a mile a minute. The rest of the women sat around you, trying to calm Abigail down and reassuring her that Jack was being searched for by John and the rest of the men left in camp.

Molly was silent and detached; you hadn't spent that much time getting to know her since you’d arrived, but from what you’d noticed, she didn’t really try to familiarise herself with the rest of the gang either, only Dutch.

The group of you heard the sound of horses approaching and turned toward the entrance to camp to see Arthur, Micah, and Bill riding back. You then noticed that there were four horses, but only three riders. There was no sign of Sean. You looked to Karen, who was pale as a ghost as she also came to the realization that Sean was missing. Mary-Beth met your eyes and mouthed “Go” as she got up and took your place next to the inconsolable Abigail.

You grabbed Karen’s hand and pulled her up with you as you approached the men.

“Where is he?” Karen demanded. You glared at Micah and Bill before looking at Arthur. Micah walked off without a word, making a beeline to Dutch’s tent.

Arthur had a look in his eye that you’d never seen; it was full of anger, sorrow, regret, fury.

Oh god.

“Arthur, where is Sean?” You pressed, gripping Karen’s hand tighter.

Arthur let out a deep breath before he looked at her woefully, “Karen...”

Your eyes moved behind him, past Bill who was hiding something, or someone, on his horse behind him. You pushed past Arthur, who tried to put a hand up to stop you, but knew it was ultimately futile. You shoved a silent Bill aside to see Sean’s body, face down, slumped over the back of his horse. He wasn’t breathing. The sunlight glinted copper against his hair, his hat nowhere to be seen, a chunk of his head was missing.

You felt as if the rug had been ripped out from under you as tears welled up in your eyes and you looked over your shoulder at Karen, who had cried out at the gruesome sight of Sean. She slumped into Arthur’s chest and began hitting his torso with her fists as she shrieked, “How could you let this happen?!”

She began sobbing as Arthur put his arms around her, trying to hold her still, a somber look on his face. The tears were streaming down your face as you turned back to Sean, lifeless and broken in front of you. It was as if you had lost another brother. You put your hand on his shoulder as if in denial, lightly shoving it, hoping he would look up at you and laugh like it was all a ruse. Except he never did.

You sank to your knees next to Bill’s horse, your head in your hands as you tried to control your quickening heartbeat and heaving chest. You felt a hand on your shoulder and looked up to see Bill staring down at you sadly. This was the most emotion or affection you'd ever seen Bill show; you could tell it upset him more than he wanted to show.

“I’m goin’ to move his body,” Bill said quietly, “Don’t want the rest of the women to see him.”

You couldn’t speak, only nod, your lip quivering, as Bill slowly lifted Sean’s body off the horse and onto his shoulders.

Karen was trying to break free of Arthur’s grasp when she saw Bill walking away with Sean’s lifeless corpse.

“No! Don’t take him,” she pleaded, “No, please...”

She pounded on Arthur until he relented, letting her chase after Bill to get one last look at Sean before he would be put into the earth.

Time seemed to come to a stop as you knelt there in the grass, your pulse still raging out of control and your blood boiling as you simply looked at the ground. The grass was wet with your tears and the drops of blood that had fallen from Sean’s head.

Arthur slowly moved and sat down behind you, pulling you into his chest as you stared into the void.

“What happened, Arthur?” You whispered through tight lips.

“We walked into a trap. The Grays...whole thing was a god damn set up,” he replied, harsh tones of regret in his voice, “Before we realized, they shot him, there was nothin’ we could do. No chance at savin’ that poor fool.”

You were silent as Arthur recounted the tale, anger building inside you.

Between Sean’s death and Jack’s disappearance, you’d had it up to here with Lemoyne and Rhodes. You were seething as you watched Karen walking away from where Sean was now being buried, her face stone-like as she approached Strauss’s medical wagon, grabbing a bottle of gin and stalking off toward the lake with it. What pain she must be in. You loved Sean in your own way, but what she was feeling was surely hellish. You nestled against Arthur, knowing you’d want to burn down the world if any such thing had happened to him.

“I just,” You sighed, “We loved him.”

“I know, darlin’, I know,” Arthur rested his chin on the top of your head, “Kid was like a brother to me. Annoyin’ little brother, but one of the best men I knew, he had a good heart.”

“Poor Karen,” you watched her sadly as she slumped against one of the tree trunks and drank deeply, nearly a quarter of the way through the bottle of gin already.

“You have to watch out for her, Jane,” Arthur said, “I know I can only say so much, but I know she’ll listen to you. Don’t let her drink herself to death. We all gotta keep an eye on her.”

“Arthur,” you shook yourself out of your thoughts, remembering now that although Sean was now gone, there was someone who still had to be saved, “Jack’s gone.”

“What?!” He grew stiff.

“We don't know where he went, he's just gone. We-well, Hosea thinks it was the Braithwaite family who took him,” you explained, wiping the tears from your cheek, “We were tryin’ to calm Abigail while y’all were gone but-“

“We gotta, fuck, we gotta do something,” he looked completely dishevelled as he began standing up, “Have to talk to Dutch.”

He pulled you up and toward Dutch's tent, where Abigail and John were already speaking, their voices frantic, Abigail nearly yelling at the men.

The pair of you rushed up as Dutch attempted to comfort Abigail, "Calm down. Everybody just relax, we're doing all we can."

"Arthur, Jane," Dutch laid eyes on you both, "Have you seen that boy, Jack?"

"No, I-" Arthur began but was cut off by Abigail.

"Where's my god damn son?!" Abigail shrieked, "Where is he? Where's my son...they took him, didn't they, they took my son?"

"Who took him?" Arthur asked, running a hand through his hair.

"We think the Braithwaite woman took him," Hosea ran up, out of breath, "Kieran saw a couple o' fellas, sounded like Braithwaite boys."

"Where is my son," Abigail began crumpling again, "If anything-oh, where is my son, Dutch Van Der Linde?!"

"We will find him, we will bring him back to you," Dutch said evenly, "And we will kill any fool who had the temerity to touch one hair on that boy's head! Abigail," He took Abigail's hands in his own, "You have my word."

"Just get me back my son." She pleaded, looking to you all with glassy eyes.

"I will get that boy back, so help me god. Right now." Dutch stormed off.

Arthur looked at you and nodded. You ran to your tent and grabbed your bolt action rifle, slinging it over your shoulder as you ran to catch up with Dutch and the others.

Bill approached your posse with Charles and Lenny in tow, "Dutch, we just heard about Jack; you need some extra guns?"

"Hell, why not," Dutch exclaimed, "Micah! Kieran! Anyone strange turns up, you kill 'em! Rest of you, let's ride!"

You mounted up and rode off quickly in formation, hanging towards the rear with Arthur and Charles. Maybe you should have stayed behind to help protect the rest of the gang, but Sadie, Micah, and Kieran were there; they’d be fine. The way you saw it, the Braithwaites and Grays had made it personal by taking Jack and killing Sean. There was no room for discussion anymore.

"Okay, let's go get that boy back!" Dutch yelled from the front of the pack.

"They must've figured out what we was up to, Dutch," Hosea said, his voice disgruntled.

"Yeah, we just got shot to hell by the Grays in town!" Arthur added, looking over at you.

"I know, I heard," Dutch replied over his shoulder, "About Sean, too. I don't wanna even think about that right now. We have to focus on Jack."

You were fuming at the thought of these two families taking something else away from the gang. First, Sean. Now, Jack? There would be hell to pay. You hadn’t really seen Dutch in action yet, but by the way he led your posse, you could see how the others admired and listened to him. Despite Arthur's uncertainty which he confessed back in Rhodes, you could see he would ride into hell and back at Dutch's side.

"I swear," John said angrily, "I'll kill everyone there!"

"Easy John," Dutch warned, "Try to stay calm."

"I'm fine."

"How the hell did they get to him?" Hosea asked curiously.

"I don't know," Dutch replied, "But we are getting him back, and they will pay. I promise you that."

"What about the gold?" Bill piped up.

John looked at him with scathing eyes, "Who cares about the gold?! They got Jack!!"

"I hate to break it to ya," Hosea began, "But I don't think there is any gold. Or if there is, it's hidden somewhere no one knows."

"What?!” John asked shrilly.

"I've turned every stone..."

"For Chris's sake, Hosea! After all that? Another perfect scam."

"We underestimated them."

"No," Dutch interjected, "They underestimated us...enough talk. There's no point arguin' how we got here. This is where we are, and we are goin' to fix it. So come on!"

You were getting close to the Braithwaite property. You had never been to the area specifically, but you could feel the tension building in the air. Something was about to happen.

"Okay, get your heads right! Nobody makes a move until I say so!" Dutch commanded as you saw the mansion ahead. The road approaching was straight and long, with large trees hanging over the path dramatically leading to the huge house, its windows alight with candles.

"Alright, everyone, dismount and come to me. We'll go in on foot from here." Dutch commanded, pulling his horse to a halt.

The group of you got off your horses and hid them off to the side. You stayed close to Arthur as you walked up the path beside the men, your heart beating quickly. As awful as the circumstances were, it felt incredible to be part of something. To fight for something, alongside people who had become your friends, your family.

"First Sean, now Jack. We should have stayed out of all o' this." Lenny said, cocking his shotgun and shaking his head sadly.

"Bit late for that, ain't it?" Bill remarked, checking the bullets in his revolver as he walked.

"Quiet," Dutch said, "We are goin' to fix this right now. Come on, let's get this done."

You approached the front gates before your pace slowed. You saw Dutch lean over to John, "John, you sure you're okay?"

"Like I said, I'm fine," John replied shortly. His voice said otherwise. You stood next to him, putting your hand on his shoulder and gave him a tight smile.

"Follow my lead. Both these redneck families think they can ruin us? I don't think so." Dutch murmured.

"There they are," Hosea pointed out. You looked ahead and saw a couple of guards outside the mansion.

"Who steals a god damn boy," Dutch fumed.

"I'm gonna let fly at those sons o' bitches," John said, his voice murderous.

"John, I need you to stay calm," Dutch looked at him out of the corner of his eye as you walked, closer and closer.

You were nearly ten feet from the main courtyard when Dutch bellowed, "Get down here now! You inbred trash!” Calm indeed.

One of the Braithwaite boys took one look at your gang and guffawed, "What the hell do you want?"

"We've come for the boy," Dutch snapped, "You must've known we would."

"Shouldn't have messed with our business, now, should you?" He sneered.

"Whatever complaint you have with us, alleged, or otherwise, that is a young boy. That is not the way you do things. Hand him over!"

"Get the hell off our land!"

Dutch paused, looking at your posse around him and inhaled deeply before speaking again, "If you ain't goin' to be civilized about this..." Without warning, Dutch fired his revolver into the man's chest multiple times.

You startled and began firing at the other Braithwaite boys who had begun exiting in droves from the front door of the mansion. Arthur and the rest of the gang started doing the same, and the battle ensued. You slid to the side and took cover behind the wall of the main entry gate, peeking out and firing at the men like they were target practice. Every now and then, you glanced over at Arthur who shot effortlessly with his double-barreled shotgun at the Braithwaite boys. You could see his focus and the precision with which he aimed, fired, and landed his target.

Within minutes, they were dead and you all emerged from cover, your handiwork dead before you on the ground. Dutch stepped forward and turned to the group.

"Arthur, John, Hosea, with me! The rest of you, watch out here for any other arrivals." Dutch ordered. Arthur looked over and gave you a quick nod before walking off with Dutch, John, and Hosea into the mansion.

You moved to take cover behind a nearby column with Charles as you prepared for the onslaught of enemy backup. There were a number of gunshots and yelling happening in the house behind you and you looked back, fearing for Arthur.

"Hey," Charles said, nudging you, "He'll be fine. Focus on you. Don't get distracted."

"Okay," You said breathlessly, "Let's do this."

You waited in position as you saw multiple riders approaching. Taking a deep breath, you aimed your rifle one of the oncoming Braithwaites and exhaled as you pulled the trigger, knocking the man off his horse and dead into the dirt.

"Good shot." Charles praised as he did the same.

"You too," You replied, nodding in thanks to him.

For now, it looked like the majority of hostiles were approaching from the east side of the mansion.

"Need some help over here!" Lenny called out in confirmation.

"You want to go? I can stay here and make sure nobody else rides up from this way." Charles offered, his eyes on the stretch of road leading to the mansion.

"Sure," You replied, "Thanks. Eyes up."

Charles nodded at you before you took off in a sprint towards Bill and Lenny's position. You slid behind a nearby wagon to take cover as the approaching Braithwaites shot in your direction.

"Good to see you," Lenny exclaimed at your arrival, pumping his shotgun, "Hope the guys are almost done up there."

"I guess we'll see," You looked over, "I just hope Jack is even here."

You heard more commotion from the mansion and looked over your shoulder to see Arthur and John on the balcony, working to break down a door into an upstairs room. Eventually, they had made it inside, and you heard more gunshots, the scream of a woman, yelling back and forth, and one more gunshot.

Shifting your focus back to the rush of enemies, you took deep breaths as you aimed your rifle at the next target, taking him down in one shot.

“Looks like we got a sharpshooter here,” Lenny called out. You smirked as you fired another one off.

You didn’t enjoy killing but here, at this moment, in the aftermath of Sean’s death and Jack’s kidnapping, all you wanted to do was destroy.

After a couple more minutes of defending the position, you heard Dutch, John, and Arthur making their way back into the front courtyard. You looked over your shoulder and saw that the house had been set ablaze. Dutch was dragging an older woman by the nape of her neck through the dirt as she watched her house go up in flames.

You all made your way back to the front gates and surrounded the woman, who lay cursing and crying on the ground.

“I never liked you,” She spat, glaring up at Dutch and Hosea.

“Why’d you take the boy, Mrs. Braithwaite?” Hosea demanded.

“You…stole my liquor, you stole my horses!” She cried.

“Boys are off-limits-“ Hosea interjected, but she continued her accusations.

“Ain’t no rules in war, Mr…”

“Matthews,” Hosea responded shortly, “Where’s the boy?”

“My sons gave him to Angelo Bronte,” Her southern drawl grew more aggressive as she continued, “So my guess is Saint Denis. Either there...or on the boat to Italy!”

“Let’s go!” Hosea cried, turning on his heel.

“Arthur, come on!” Dutch bellowed.

Arthur looked at you and then turned to follow Dutch, “What’re we doin’ with her?”

“Leave her.”

“I told you she was crazy!” Hosea scoffed.

As your posse made your exit, you looked back over your shoulder one last time and saw Mrs. Braithwaite stumbling back toward the burning mansion and disappear into the flames.

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