#dutch x colm

[amrass]

Excerpt from part 24 of Salt

I thought I posted this already! But I forgot 💀 Anyway, arc 4 of Salt (my evil Colm/Micah sugar daddy AU fic) is coming along nicely, and part 20 should be released soon. I'll be adding a bunch of pairings to the fic, which is relevant to the plot and also just fun to write.

This excerpt is from one of two Dutch/Micah/Colm threesomes.

Warning: Dubcon, flogging, blood

Colm amused himself by delivering a couple of lashes that hit them both the same time, as if he was trying to stitch their backs, asses and thighs together using blood. Dutch was gritting his teeth as he struggled against his restrains, Micah was chewing on a patch of the bedcovers. Satisfied at their increasing signs of weakness, Colm put his gun back in its holster. But his hunger had grown so foul it wouldn't be satisfied until the boys broke.

The thin lines on their skin were like red lips pressed tightly together, and he found himself wanting to make them part into openly grinning gashes, a reverse of their current expressions.

"Remember to breathe, boys. We're just getting started."

There was the sound on leather on skin, sometimes two in a row and more often randomized, but Colm hadn't done all that accounting for nothing and he remembered the number of lashes he gave them.

When the first twenty lashes were done, Micah and Dutch were whining and sweating, full of red cuts, leaning their chins on the mattress in search of a softness they didn't deserve. Dutch had a wobbling noise on every inhale, and Micah had breathy whimpers on every exhale. But they weren't turned off. Colm had been inside of them – their mouths, their asses, dragging himself across their skin like a sacred disease – enough times to know how they worked.

They could take more. He saw it in their eyes, dark and bright, like a starless sky beside an icy lake. They made a cute couple when dancing in the palm of Colm's hand.

[abeliophyllum]

"Dutch?"

:0

[sanguivorousmuse]

I’m gonna sniff Dutch’s sweaty armpit.. stick my whole face in there.. 🤤

hello friend. i am coming to ask for more gangshipping(dutchxcolm) please.... 🥩

They’re healthy for sure.

[agyraty]

Ohh can you do Javier x reader angst?? Where in the last fight where the reader chose Arthurs side instead of his and they like reunite somewhere in the future where the reader has a kid now but is taken a back when she meets Javier again because they both still really much love each other but never really said anything just one finale goodbye

I love this!! I’m definitely thinking on adding on to this and making a part two because I love the concept.

(Btw I need more requests 😔 I have no ideas on what to write at the moment and need help)

—

Old goodbyes, New beginnings

Wc: 1.6k

—

You never thought that you would see the day the Van Der Linde gang had its fallout. But here you are, pistol in hand, Arthur and a wounded John standing by your side. Dutch, Micah and his friends stood just a few feet away from you, their guns pointed and ready to fire. But your eyes were on Javier.. it hurt seeing him in the opposing side, although you should have known this would happen by how he’s been acting.

You joined the when you were just 19 back in 1994, and you were there when Javier first joined in 1995. you two were practically inseparable from the moment you met. He was a very skilled and charming man, not to mention he was extremely handsome. And over the 4 years of knowing him, you fell in love. And so did he.

A relationship blossomed between the two of you two years ago from now, and at first, it was amazing. He was such a loving man, and he cared deeply for you. Just as you did for him. Each time he’d go on a mission, or vise versa, you’d both be thinking about each other the whole time, and how much you missed one another. He’d even put his life on the line if it meant you were safe. He loved you, and you loved him.

But recently, as everything began to fall apart, Dutch, the gang, everyone began to turn in each other and the pinkertons were close to capturing you all, you had noticed him becoming.. distant, easily irritated. At first you thought maybe he was just stressed or worried about what would happen, but now you are begging to think that he’s choosing Dutch. That he’d rather be on his side than be with you since you disagreed either Dutch. Overall he had completely changed from the man you once knew..

Your glossy eyes scanned his figure as he stood across from you, his pistol pointed upwards at the air, unsure of what to do.

Your lip quivered slightly as you spoke. “C’mon Javier.. don’t be dumb. Please, Just listen to me.” You pleaded, not even bothering to hide the desperation in your voice. You loved him for Christs sake, even if he had changed, you couldn’t just stand around and watch him make a mistake.

His deep brown eyes stared at you, lips parting, not exactly sure on what to say. You could see he was trying to figure it out, to make a decision.

You tuned out Micah and Arthur’s back and forth banter, all your focus directed to the man you loved, standing a few feet in front of you. You could feel your heart splitting. Why was it so hard for him to make a decision? surely he hadn’t lost his way completely..

Surely he still loved you..

He shook his head, the muscles in his jaw tightening as he clenched his teeth. “No.. no you’re the one being stupid.” He gestured at you with his gun that now aimed at you. “Dutch fed us, clothed us, gave us a place to stay and you’re turning on him?”

Your shaky hands tightened around your gun, eyes narrowing. “No Javier.. he betrayed me, betrayed us, when he started listening to that rat.” You gestured to the blonde standing beside Javier.

��Please.. just come with me, don’t do this.” You pleaded desperately, eyes glossy with tears, the pain you felt growing as you saw him look at you with a cold look in his eye. There was no love in his expression. He was betraying you just as Dutch had.. why?

“Javi..”

He looked away as soon as you spoke his name which you called him often. He used to love it when you did.

“Don’t,” he started, but before he could speak another word, a large group came rushing into camp, interrupting the stand off. It was none other than the Pinkertons, lawmen who had been chasing after the gang for months. They found you.

“Damnit, Go!” You, Arthur, and John went one way, while the others went the opposite. You looked behind you, eyes catching Javier’s figure, who was behind the others, firing some shots at the men on their horses.

You didn’t know at the time that it would be the last time you saw Javier, for many years.

��

“Norman, stop Messing around, you’re gonna bump into someone.” You sighed, attention loosely on the young boy that ran around the streets of black water. You shook your head as he continued to chase around the golden dog that yelled and panted, it’s tail wagging vigorously behind him.

“Alright, anything else I could get you, Ma’am?” Asks the store clerk as he steps over to you, placing the peach you had asked for in your hand carefully. You shook your head, a small polite smile gracing your features. “No, this’ll be all.”

You dug into the pocket of your weathered pants, pulling out a few cents and handing it to the man. You turned your attention to your horse, stepping carefully over and dropping the plump peach into the saddle bag. A huff escaped your parted lips, you just wanted to go home and rest. These past few days had been even more eventful then normal, You were exhausted.

Cecil barked, his paws pattering against the dusty stone floor as Norman chased behind him, giggling loudly. But suddenly, you heard the boy let out a grunt, and a loud thud, along with a soft curse, a voice that sounded so familiar.

You quickly turned away from the horse, eyes searching for your son, who was now sitting in the floor covered in dust, along with a man in front of him who you didn’t quite get a good look at. Hurrying over, you reached down, grabbing Norman just below the arms, helping him up to his feet.

“I am so sorry, I told him to watch out—“ you stood up, eyes turning to the man, and paused, breath hitching in your throat upon seeing who stood before you.

“Y/n..?” He uttered quietly, in clear disbelief, just as you were.

You studied his face, noticing the smile lines and soft crows feet he had beside his eyes, along with how his frame filled out more. You couldn’t be seeing things, could you? At first you doubted it was him until you called his name. “Javier?”

If it was him, He sure didn’t age much.

Javier’s wide eyes traced the soft features of your face, the bags beneath your eyes, and the hint of smile lines that began to form. He noticed your hair had grown longer, and grew slightly lighter from days in the sun. Although it’s been 12 years, you were still just as beautiful in his eyes.

“What are you doing here?” You stood up straighter, not seeming to be able to take your eyes off of him. You could feel your heart thudding against your chest, as swirl of emotions happening within you. You missed him, god you missed him so much. Seeing him here.. it brings back old feelings you tried so hard to push down. But you’re still angry, angry at the fact he chose Dutch over you all those Years before.

“I’m looking for a place to stay.. figured I’d look here. I always liked Black water.” His voice still carried the same thick accent, not wavering a bit.

You nodded and hummed a sound of understanding, looking down at the stone road. There was so much you wanted to say, but you couldn’t find the right words. You wanted to jump into his arms, but you also wanted to scream, tell him how badly he hurt you.

“So uh.. is this your boy?” He asked, eyes casting down to Norman, who stood a bit behind you, patting your golden retriever.

“Yeah.. this is Norman, I had him 5 years back.” You glanced behind you, before meeting Javier’s eyes once again. You felt your heart jump, just as it did all those years back.

“Oh, his father must be a lucky man, Having you at home,” He said softly, a hint of something in his voice you couldn’t quiet pin. “And knowing he has such a handsome son.”

You shook your head, fidgeting with the hem of your shirt. “No uh.. his father isn’t here anymore. He left when he was born.” Back then, you had met a guy named victor. He was very handsome, and he was good for you. And you tried to love him like you did with Javier and push your memories behind, but you couldn’t. And then he got you pregnant.

And once he did, he switched completely from a charming man, to a rude asshole. And he left after you gave birth, leaving you alone to take care and sustain for your child, and let’s just say it has not been easy.

“Oh,” Javier didn’t exactly know what to say, a bit shocked at your words. “I uh, I’m sorry.” His dark eyes traced your face, watching as you shook your head.

“No, it’s okay.” You pursed your lips together, taking in a deep breath. “So.. how have you been?”

The Spaniard scratched his chin, shrugging a bit. “I’ve been doing okay. I went to Mexico after what had happened. Let’s just say I got into some trouble. Which is why I’m here. Lookin’ for a new start.”

You nodded and listened to his words intently, humming. “This is a Great place. Maybe I could help you, Y’know, find a place.” A small smile graced you features as your gentle eyes met his once more.

“Yeah, that’d be great.” His lips curved into a smile just as yours did. For a moment you two stood there, looking at each other, your cheeks burning with a soft blush, stomach doing flips. You missed him so much over these past years, you don’t even care how angry you were, you’re just glad to see him again.

“Why don’t you come over? I’m making Peach Cobbler.” The words just fell from your mouth, but you didn’t care. All the exhaustion you felt before disappeared, the only thing fueling you was the hope that he would say yes so you could spend more time with him. Get to know what he’s done in 12 years. And maybe even become friends or, hopefully something more with time.

He nodded, smile growing. “I’d love too.”

—

[bourbonificould]

The Walking Dead Game Characters as the Van der Linde Gang

+ Antagonists; with @debtnramen & @juno-box

shit ton of tags

[moonlightkitties]

Dutch Van Der Linde x O'Driscoll! Reader

This is my first RDR 2 post so please forgive me if some details are weird/wrong. I had an itch to write a Dutch x Reader and I scratched it. This will be a multiple part series so expect part two soon.

TW: Physical Assault

You're Colm O'Driscoll's nineteen year old daughter. You were captured by Arthur and was now tide up to a tree getting ready for Dutch to interrogate you.

I glare at the man that lassoed me from my horse and brought me to this camp. I knew better than to ride out far from the O'Driscoll camp but it was the middle of the night and stormy, I swore no one would have seen me.

Well, I was wrong. So entirely wrong.

I was captured by a Van Der Linde, my father warned me how awful they could be so I was horrified at what they might do.

The man, who had a scruffy grown out light brown beard and hair, chuckled at me glaring up at him.

"You got some balls for an O'Driscoll" he says, grabbing my chin and forcing me to look up at him. His eyes glazed across my face, like he was studying me. He didn't let go until a man yelled at him to.

"Arthur! Let her go and let me have a look at her" the man, who I very much recognized as Dutch Van Der Linde, my father's enemy, the very person who he hopes to kill someday. Dutch looked down at me, I couldn't help but look away from his gaze.

He was extremely handsome. His black hair was covered by the hat he usually wore and his brown eyes glared daggers into my soul.

"Tell me, O'Driscoll, what were you doing out this late at night. Doesn't your daddy keep you locked up?" he asked, his spat out O'Driscoll like it was some food he ate that went bad.

"That's not really your business is it Van Der Linde" I spat back. He let out a howl of laughter "Considering you were on my territory, yes it is." I let out a huff of annoyance "I was just going for a ride" I told him "Where is my horse anyways?" I ask "You better not have hurt her." Dutch laugh "You should be worried about what we're going to do to you rather than your horse."

"When my dad finds out I'm gone he's going to kill you!" I threaten. Dutch let out a whistle, like he wasn't scared, "I'd like to see him try" he said, grabbing my chin and studying my face.

"It's disgusting how much you look like your father" he spat.

It was the truth, I looked a lot like Colm O'Driscoll.

I forced my head away from his hand and he wiped it on his shirt like I infected it or something.

"Now, I wanted to ask you a few questions" He said "Where is your people staying?" he asked. I stayed quiet, he let out a sigh of annoyance "Not talking, huh?" he asked and raised his hand and struck it across my face. I let out a shriek of pain, my face was burning, it would have definitely left a mark in the morning. Dutch smirked and grabbed my chin "You going to speak?" he asked and I shook my head "Never" I spat.

My father and his gang were vile but I wasn't a Judas.

Dutch struck my face again and I let out a gasp. Three, four, five, ten strikes across my face and I was a sobbing mess. It was embarrassing seeing the people in the camp watch me get smacked around. But Dutch didn't have a care in the world. He liked to see me cry.

"You ready to talk?" he asked and I nodded "Yes" I sobbed.

"Th-there a few miles from here" I told him "Where?" he asked, rubbing my burning cheek with his thumb.

"I few miles from the mountains. Were hiding in an run down train station." I said.

Dutch smiled "Now, was that so hard Darlin?" he asked and I didn't respond.

[keppa-nero]

HEY PEOPLE ❗❗❗

I don't know if currently I have many questions in my askbox for requests, BUT I'VE GOT SOME IDEAS I'LL DO SOMETIME NOW

All RDR2 :]

-Hate Headcanon I'll do for Colm O'Driscoll x Male Reader .

-Some Drunk! Sean/Arthur/Dutch/Bill in Valentine, probably a drunk fight XD.

-Angsty things for Bill/Kieran/Arthur

All characters One-Shots about some general idea:

I wanna do something like, their reaction to a really reserved Reader swearing or snapping at someone, probably Micah ���.

A gentle-manish Reader trying to heat up the others at Colter

How all characters would approach you for a dance/flirting while drunk.

AND MORE❗MY ASKBOX IS COMPLETELY

OPEN FOR REQUESTS.

[josephquinnswhore]

•dead men don’t kiss•

chapter two ; a familiar face.

summary: Dutch had received some viable intel—sending you and Hosea to check it out. You get more than what you bargained for with a familiar face.

word count: 2.3k

content warning: mentions of bessie being dead, violence, allusion to death, blood, mentions and use of guns, hogtying, murder.

As unusual as it was to ready yourself under a makeshift tent in the middle of a camp surrounded by strangers, by the grace of a miracle you’d managed to encapsulate yourself in a grace of beauty. Hiding all of the sorrow, bitterness and grief behind a small tube of cherry red lipstick and a small tin of hair pomade.

“Mrs Simmons, won’t you join us?” Dutch calls out to you, carrying out Arthur’s prediction of the man’s intentions. In which he gestures to a small wooden table a few feet away. There are no chairs to sit, just a few lacklustre wooden crates in the patchy grass. Supposed they could only make do with what they had.

As you sit, you’re joined by Arthur, and an older man who coughs into his sleeve before taking a seat.

The predicament continues of the evening prior, recalling someone who was coughing violently, the sound of an agonised groan filled the quiet evening atmosphere while everyone else slept. It makes you ponder whether the older man is ill. Despite that, and how the constant wheezing had created an irate response from you, there is a kindness that radiates from him, the softness of his gaze and a weary smile.

“Madam, I am most pleased to meet you, my name is Hosea Matthews.” He holds his hand out for you to shake, to which you oblige with a firm grip. “Dutch has told me little about you, although my mind is curious to know more. Pardon me for my lack of manner, what is your name again?”

“Mrs Simmons.” The reply is haste, although shielding the unusually softening feeling that’s bubbling inside of your chest.

“Mrs Simmons, that’s right. A pleasure at last.”

In the following moments of introduction ending, Dutch unfolds a large map with a few calculated movements.

There is plenty to observe, circled locations marked with O’Driscoll in neat cursive. The number of men spotted at these makeshift camps are also noted.

“The O’Driscoll boys have been sighted in half a dozen surrounding ares of Valentine. All leading—here.” A thick finger thumps onto the map, drawing your hard gaze onto the prominent, thick lead circle on the map.

“Word is they congregate here, in a small house secluded in the Cumberland Forest. Now, it is near the old Fort Wallace prison which was destroyed by his men. This needs to be taken into consideration, should any of us approach the area.”

“Where did this intel come from?” The doubtful respite from your lips is expected, it was apart of Dutch’s plan after all. If the ever doubting fierce cowgirl could trust him, surely his blindly following friends would connusume that trust too, since they had been nothing but doubtful and faithless after Blackwater.

The intel was new, and it was an area you’d never thought to look because the Fort Wallace prison was too hot. Too protected. “North east from Valentine. How many men will he have with him in this location?” The rapport is consistent with men you interacted with in the area, perhaps you could take this on alone.

Dutch intervened the silent thought, caught through your expression. “No one does this on their own, including you. It’s quite clear to me, miss, that you’re a strong and intelligent woman. Make no mistake here; the area will be guarded and it’s possible they’ve taken weapons from the lawmen they killed.”

An argumentative comment dies in your throat bitterly as you swallow it down. “Then how exactly are we supposed to get to Colm? If he’s even in the area.”

“Since you’re so passionate about this, Mrs Simmons, I’ll have you take this opportunity to ride to the location. See if you can get a sense of the place and report back to camp. Do not engage. Hosea will escort you, he knows that area well.” Dutch’s voice is a stern warning you put in mind probably for the best. There could be dozens of heavily armed O’Driscoll boys.

Packing up the map, Dutch stands, crossing his hands over his chest. “One of our.. associates overheard the conversation of two of Colm’s boys in the Valentine saloon. Hosea is no killer, but I am sure you will appreciate the theatrics.”

Your blood may spill, but you will not fall before Colm O’Driscoll.

A side eye is send toward Hosea, a thought that perhaps could’ve stayed inside of your head is suddenly spilling from your loose lipped mouth. “Are you in well enough health make this trip, Mr Matthews?”

Hosea is not offended by your brusque comment, in fact it draws a laugh from his chest, one that he hadn’t experienced in the many years since his sweet Bessie had been laid in the dirt. All that’s left of her is the photograph by Hosea’s bedroll and the wedding band on his finger. The ever consuming sensation was something he found himself transfixed on.

The attitude from a sharp lipped woman who seemed daring to put any man in his place, valiant and truthful was something that impressed him.

“I often find myself asking the same question, young lady. Let me assure you that I’ll be fine.”

In hindsight he seemed well enough, as you observe the way he walks and mounds his steed. Perhaps he would keep his word and not fall off of his mount halfway through the trail.

“Whatever you say,” with a strained response from mounting your large Hungarian Halfbred. The horse was tall enough for a giant to mount and ride, perhaps a little drastic for what you often used her for, long travels. Her stamina was the best you’d seen in a horse, nor did she startle easily. An incredibly rare attitude to find.

As dearly as you wished for the ride to be silent, to hear the rustling of the trees hoping to hear a voice whispering in the wind to you, the ever vision of such foolishness and pretty dreams were ruined in a moment as Hosea rides alongside you.

“Quite an impressive creature you’re mounted.” He comments after a few moments of silence.

“Sure.”

“I get the sense you don’t enjoy small talk.”

“Suppose you’d be right.”

“Whatever it is you’re hiding, I won’t pry. Although I can tell something seems to be tearing away at you.”

He was right, and you detest it. How it felt like every muscle and limb that contained life, flesh, was rotting from the inside out. As if there were some rapidly spreading cancerous disease. Clear of any disease, you concede it’s from heartbreak, grief.

Although there is one thing Hosea was prepared to teach you about.

“You remind me of my wife, in her younger days of course. She was never good at conversing when it came to small talk, nor did she have the patience for small minded men, although a kind woman.”

Through his rambling words, you suppose it’s doing him a favour to talk about his wife, the way he spoke about her — you could only assume his wife is not around anymore.

“Been eight years since I buried her. Yet, I feel ashamed to admit that I don’t visit often, I feel too much guilt for her passing, I fail to understand how I could have let this happen to her. The stubborn woman knew who I was, the kind of lifestyle I lived. In the end she paid the price.”

It should touch you, that he’s opening up about someone that were dearest to him but you can’t find yourself to care all that much. You had your own grief to wrangle, your own loss.

“I’m sorry about your wife.” It was strangled, a forced pry of pity for the old man. It’s all you could summon at this moment.

“You’re no such thing as sorry,” the old man retorts, but with a humorous laugh he smiles. “I take no offence, you don’t know me personally, I can’t expect you to take pity on me.”

The two of you make small talk, not giving too much away about your personal life, or anything before meeting Dutch and Arthur in the saloon in Valentine.

“How’d they convince you to join them?” There’s a ring of curiosity in his tone.

“I don’t need convincing to hunt down Colm or any goddamn O’Driscoll for that matter.”

The name leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, as if simply uttering the word is poisonous.

“Dutch has had a run in with Colm for years. Dutch killed Colm’s brother—Colm killed Dutch’s dearest wife, Annabelle. The rest is repeating history I suppose. It won’t end until one of them is dead.”

Adjusting your grip around the reigns you pull your horse to a standstill seeking cover for your horses behind the fallen fortitude of the prison, dismounting and searching through your satchel for your binoculars. As you grip them, you sneak bend down, using a fairly large rock for cover as you zoom in on the camp with a click of the slider.

“What Dutch does is his own business. I’m only here because we have a mutual agreement that Colm should suffer for his indifference.”

Hosea silently agrees. “What can you see?”

The sight is surprising and infuriating. “There’s at least a dozen men down here, if not more.” Moving the binoculars around you confirms the task Dutch sent you for.

“That’s Colm alright. Arrogant fool.” His disgusting wrinkled face and greying hair was undeniable, it was one etched into every ridge of your brain. Everytime you close your eyes, you see him.

Putting the binoculars away, you scowl. He’s right there, your fingers are itching to unholster your sawn off shotgun and ride in to execute him.

Hosea's hand grips your arm. “We need to get back to Dutch, report what we’ve seen.”

Something catches your eye— it can’t be. An O’Driscoll wondering around with a rifle, horribly keeping watch. He’s barely ten feet away from you, a man you recognise that was in your house the night your life ended. “Get on your horse.” Ushering Hosea, he relishes in your command and hastily sneaks back to where you’d left your horses.

Meanwhile you’re sneaking out from behind the rock, each footstep is carefully placed to not alarm the enemy, unholstering your revolver your fingers curl around the engraved wooden grip.

As soon as you get close enough behind the man, you tap the man on the shoulder roughly to get his attention. Before he could scream, or reach for his own poorly conditioned weapon you whack him on his face with the butt of your revolver. His nose begins to bleed the moment you retract the gun from his face.

You’re quick to catch him before his body could his the ground with a loud thud—setting him down gently as not to alarm his nearby comrades.

With a determined few loops, you’ve hogtied his hands and feet together in a restricting bind that would make it impossible to escape from. He’s heavy though, so you’ve resorted to gripping onto the knotted rope between his hands and dragging him to your horse behind the destroyed prison.

Hatred is enough to fuel your adrenaline alone, giving you a strength that impresses Hosea as you stow the unconscious man onto the back of your horse.

“Pathetic sack of shit.” You insult, mounting your horse and wiping off the man’s blood that had stained the cuff of your sleeve. You wanted this asshole alive when you interrogate him.

“Remind me not to piss you off.” Hosea mused as you two ride hastily back to camp.

“Well well, what do we have here,” Dutch laughs in amusement, sauntering over to you as you drag the slowly stirring O’Driscoll awake through the grass to a tree, tying the sorry sack of shit upright.

“This.. is our ticket to Colm.” You huff, wiping some beads of sweat off your brow.

“What of the camp?” Dutch reminds expectantly.

“Colm is there. Had at least a dozen heavily armed men.” You’re met with a smirk from Dutch, he knew that now you trusted him, his sources.

“Now, I did reassure you my dear, that my word is honest. What exactly do you plan to do with this fool?”

“I’ll dispose of him, once I get answers.”

The words came of second nature to you—it makes Arthur turn to Dutch with a raised brow. “Do you think this is a good idea Dutch?”

“My boy.. this woman is.. apart of my plan.”

Arthur couldn't help himself as he watched on, the familiar feeling of curiosity creeping inside of him. The urge to know more about you.

Now, it’s your turn to smile, the twisted expression makes the tied up O’Driscoll squirm as you approach him. “No.. no not you.” His voice is full of fear and it fills your chest with a sense of satisfaction. “No! I’ll pay someone real good if they kill this crazy bitch right now!”

“Oh yes Marv. You remember me, don’t you?” Now that he recognised you, it was time for the fun part. “I’ll cut you a deal, you know it’s Colm I want. Tell me where he is, and I’ll cut you loose.” The sound of your voice is kind, sympathetic, promising.

“I don’t believe you,” he sneers, but what choice did he have other than to trust you. One wave of your knife in his face was enough convincing. “Wait—wait alright! He’s planning to rob some rich fools in Saint Denis. I told you.. now let me go, just like you said.”

“Oh Marv..” for a moment you smile, in a twisted way, the O’Driscoll truly believes you’d cut him loose.

“You’re a fool to think I would turn you loose after what you did. Begging won’t save you from me. You’ll be rewarded with the death you deserve, I promise you that.” As soft as your voice was, it provided no comfort but a sharp crack of malice.

Pressing a firm kiss to his cheek with your sticky lipstick, it transfers into the perfect imprint of the shape of your lips. In doing so, it seals his fate with your signature cherry red stain.

“I’ll see you in hell, Marv.” The promise is met with its fulfilment, unsheathing your knife and plunging it deep into his neck. “But not before Colm joins you.”

With blood staining your hands, Marv slumps as he chokes on his own blood, watching as he takes his last breath. As you stand, you wipe the blood off your blade onto Marv’s coat.

“So.. Saint Denis.” You repeat to Dutch.

[allzelemonz]

Masterlist: Red Dead Redemption

Main Masterlist

Too many fics for them all to fit in one post. See the character and other sections for specific fics.

Updated 5/17/24

Abe

Arthur Morgan

Bill Williamson

Charles Smith

Colm O'Driscoll

Dutch Van der Linde

Javier Escuella

John Marston

Kieran Duffy

Micah Bell

Sean MacGuire

Multi Pairing (character/reader/character)

Scenario Masterlist

Ships

[yandereunsolved]

Silly thought here-

What if darling accidentally gets colm's attention and he decides to pursue them.. would it change anything? Would the gang get even more skittish and high alert because of that? What would be colm's reaction to finding out darling is his rival's camp spouse?

-🧁

Cupcake anon. I cherish this.

I hate Colm, but he is a fantastic yandere (not for his darling).

It would change things. It depends on how darling gained Colm's attention. Like if he saw darling out n' about? Darling is not allowed to be anywhere outside of camp anymore. Did they try to get help from Colm somehow? No, darling is getting punished and the gang hates Colm's men (and Kieran even more).

Kieran loses in this situation. The gang does not want him near darling. They villianize him even more. And if darling favors Kieran then they'll do anything to manipulate darling away from him.

The gang would be more overbearing, in a panicked way. Dutch is trying to calculate a plan... but he's already lost one lover to Colm. So Hosea needs to make sure Dutch doesn't unravel. And the other members are on higher alert, scared for you and themselves.

Colm's gang is now constantly on the VDL gang's heels.

Naturally a lot of stress comes out of that situation. Abigail is begging John to take Jack and you with them because she doesn't want Colm wipping out the gang.

Colm's outward reaction is smugness. Colm's inward reaction is 'fuck'. He's already tustled with Dutch and his gang once before. Now they got his darling? His hatred for the VDL gang only multiplies tenfold.

The Van der Linde gang is on the defensive.

Colm's gang is on the offensive.

Darling/Camp spouse is the prize.

The thing the Van der Linde gang is trying to protect.

The thing Colm's gang is trying to obtain.

Oh, candlelight~ How do you feel about this? (I ask this like how you would lure a cat saying 'pspspspspspspsp')

[amrass]

Guess what super niche longfic might be resurrected from the dead someday soon

I'll give you a hint:

For those unfamiliar with it, Salt is my Colm/Micah sugar daddy AU fic; dark, explicit and self-indulgent, 3/6 arcs complete. It's not for everyone, but might be for you if the tags give you a Cheshire grin.

In the 4th and upcoming arc, there will be Annabelle/Dutch, Dutch/Colm, Dutch/Micah and Owen(Colm's brother)/Micah, because creating a pentagram of interpersonal drama with a touch of murder was the way to get back into this fic after a six month hiatus. Also sexy sugar mama Annabelle who laughs like this is fun to write.

Have a smutty excerpt from part 21 after the cut ...

Colm liked having a pliant boy on his lap. His mouth lingered near Micah's neck and his rising heartbeat. He felt a childish desire to bite into his jugular and tear and chew his way down to his heart, as though Dutch's aforementioned concept of love would become less foreign if he'd held Micah's heart between his teeth.

His jaw snapped in the air when Dutch stood up from the chair.

"May I see?" Dutch asked, bending his neck like when he'd adressed Annabelle, but walking closer when Colm didn't bite.

Feeling the effects of the strong beer in how slowly he thought, Colm's mind dripped from his own empty mouth and down along his arms, which had been spreading open Micah's shirt as well as his legs, forcing exposure upon a weaker as a subconscious way of soothing himself. Dutch's gaze was locked on the stiff nubs of Micah's nipples. The gold piercing glinted in one of them, and the silver one, in the other. They were further complimented by the blush spreading over Micah's chest and up his neck. He was a rough little thing, full of scars, but he had these little places of grace – the fat, the redness, the wobbling bottom lip – that made him oddly pretty.

"Fascinating. Do they hurt?"

"No- Ow!"

Micah choked on air as Colm twisted the silver piercing.

Dutch sat down on the table in front of them, still bent forward to make sure his head was a fraction lower than Colm's. It was cute, but also very different from the time when Colm had made Dutch kneel on the floor in front of him, and crawl forward with an open mouth, ready to be fed and watered. But now his lips were closed-lipped, and his new liaison and clothes had given him more confidence; in terms of rank, he was above Micah by being Annabelle's lover.

"They must be sensitive. May I ...?"

"Go ahead. I think he likes you." Colm took hold of Micah's cheeks, pressing them together like a fish's mouth, "Don't you, kid?"

Micah made a wet noise, a mix of anger and helpless agreement.

"Well. I like you too," Dutch said in a lighter tone to Micah, reaching out to run his index and middle finger on the sides of the golden piercing. "Your shade of blonde is rather pretty. Like hers, but paler."

Micah shuddered, one nipple being caressed, and one, poked and prodded. Colm increased the pressure, feeling Micah's back go taunt against him, and when he let go, Micah sank down and breathed hard. Colm used his distraction to unbutton his pants and hold them open. Predictably, he was hard, and grew harder as Dutch took it as an invitation to rub both of his nipples with adept thumbs while Colm felt him twitch underneath his palms, pressing down, down, down.

"Fuck!" Micah cried out.

"Your brother is trying to buy out Annabelle," Dutch said suddenly but quietly, raising his eyes to Colm's before lowering them again.

"Yes, I know," Colm lied, hiding his surprise.

[abeliophyllum]

Therapist : Younger boy Colm Isn't Real, It Can't Hurt You (+Dutch doll)

Younger boy Colm and Dutch doll :

-

싸가지없는 잼민콜름 + 더치인형.

[loozer]

Uhmm, taking like, requests and stuff on character fanfics, so send em in (p.s, I'm only doing male reader or trans male reader bc it's something I'm more comfortable doing)

[frostbitemutt]

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Information⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

❆ So I've decided to re-do my blog, this is, as stated in the description, a yandre focused blog. THIS IS MEANT FOR HORROR PURPOSES. I find the pyshcology and horror aspects of the "yandere" trope. None of these fics are examples of healthy relationships, obsession is not love.

This is a sideblog. I will not name my main blog. I want them completely separate. 17.

Writing style, and fic format are very inspired by @yanderes-galore and @lonleydweller. If either are uncomfortable with amount of inspiration I take I will change it.

❆Inbox: 2

❆Status: Open

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･Navigation⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

❆Rules ❆Masterlist ❆Fandoms ❆Prompts

[agyraty]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Requests!

ׂ╰┈➤ I’m taking requests for Oneshots about Red Dead Redemption, Tlou and Call of duty!

Rules?

ׂI’ll Write just about anything!

ׂ╰┈➤ I will write Fluff, Angst, etc.

ׂ╰┈➤ if requested I could try Yandere.

ׂ╰┈➤ I might do smut? Idk though

ׂ╰┈➤ NO incest, for obvious reasons 💀

ׂ╰┈➤ I only do Male characters x Reader

ׂ╰┈➤ just like smut, I’m not to sure I’ll write about abusive relationships unless it’s like, good for the story? Idk 😭

—

Please give me any requests! I NEED something to write because I enjoy it 🙏🙏 so if you got any ideas message me!

Please don’t rush me though, I promise I’ll finish it as soon as possible. ❥