#hosea is fit af

[chekhovswatergun]

My three girlfriends.

And yes, they smoke weed

[neon-junkie]

HCs on what the entire gang (or whichever members u feel comfortable with!) is doing for Halloween!! Are they trick or treating or are they parenting? What are they dressed up as?? :D

Let's say this is a modern setting for our gang! Every year a few of them go trick or treating and join the others at a house party. Jack is allowed to stay up past his usual 8pm bedtime until 9:30pm (it was 9pm but Jack manages to squeeze an extra 30 mins out of his parents.) 

Goes trick or treating: Arthur, John, Abigail, Jack, Hosea, Sean, Lenny, Mary-Beth, Tilly, Uncle. Heads straight to the party: Dutch, Bill, Kieran, Charles, Strauss, Swanson, Karen. Rolls up late af to the party: Sadie, Susan, Javier, Molly, and Uncle (he got lost during trick or treating somehow.) 

Arthur doesn't really get into Halloween too much, but Jack gives him puppy-dog eyes every year when he asks Arthur what he's dressing up as, so Arthur always puts together a last-minute costume but hey, it's better than nothing! This year he's dressing up as one of his favourite Western film characters, and he gets a lot of compliments as the "cowboy look really suits you!" John isn't one to celebrate Halloween either, but Abigail and Jack bug him about it every year. They're doing a family costume this year, so John is going as a big bad wolf, Abigail is going as Red Riding Hood, and Jack is going as a little wolf!!

Dutch likes to keep things 'classic' and decides to go as a vampire, but those stick-on fangs don't last very long. He gets irritated at them and takes them out within the first hour. Hosea and Lenny decide to do a joint costume and go as characters from Django Unchained. Hosea goes as Dr. Schultz, and Lenny goes as Django (but in that burgundy suit that he robs from Calvin Candie.) Dutch does get a little jealous because he and Hosea haven't done a joint costume in such a long time, but he thinks it's nice to see Lenny and Hosea dressing up together!! Bill doesn't really celebrate Halloween but decides to throw an outfit together last minute. He already owns a red plaid shirt, so he buys an axe and goes as a lumberjack. The axe is confiscated from him the second he walks into the party cause nobody trusts him with one. Javier does celebrate Halloween but also celebrates Día de los Muertos a few days later, so he likes to tie the two in together and go with a classic sugar skull look. He spends houurrsssss on his makeup and kills it!! And yes, he does show up a little late because he got carried away with getting ready. Charles is one of the last people to arrive and goes as Arthur!! The two of them live together, so when Arthur left to go trick or treating, Charles snuck into his room and picked out some of his clothes. Arthur thinks it's hilarious and a little hot as his clothes are slightly too small for Charles. Kieran helped set up the party and lost a bet with Sean, so he had to stick his head in a pumpkin to see if it'd fit. It did, but he couldn't get his head out, so he decided to roll with it and went as a headless horseman. He couldn't get the smell of pumpkin out of his hair for weeks afterward. Sean obviously goes as a leprechaun, which is what he goes as every single year. He approaches everybody and gives them the "kiss me, I'm Irish!" line, to which most people reject him. The only people who have ever kissed him back are Karen and Uncle. Swanson panicked and forgot that it was Halloween, so he ran to the store and brought a last-minute costume, which was an orange prisoner jumpsuit. But hey, at least he's trying! Uncle decides to make everybody uncomfortable by going as Tinkerbell, and his dress is a little too short, but thankfully he's wearing underwear. His wig falls off within the first hour and by the end of the night, Sean has found it and refuses to take it off. Strauss always goes in a suit and comes up with a lame idea as to what he is. Last year, he was a businessman. This year he's a banker. It's a little boring but at least he's smart with his idea. Sadie keeps with her badass theme and this year has gone with the classic Kill Bill yellow jumpsuit look. She brings a real sword with her but tells everybody it's a prop because she knows it'll get confiscated. She also offers to chop the pumpkin off Kierans head, to which he quickly rejects and runs away from her. Mary-Beth and Tilly wanted to do a joint costume again this year. Last year they went as Disney princesses, but they wanted to be a little bit spooky this year, so they went as the twins from The Shining. Susan likes to go down a different route for Halloween and this year went as the Mona Lisa. Her costume is very obvious, but if you ask her what she's dressed up as, she'll just reply "art." Karen goes down the sexy route every year, and this year decided to go as a sexy nun. Sean spent most of the night asking if he could "confess his sins" to her with a wink and a smile, and the two of them mysteriously went missing by the end of the night. Molly always goes as red-head characters. Last year she went as Merida to join in with Mary-Beth and Tillys Disney theme, but this year she's going as Daphnie. She falls in love with the go-go boots and now wears them with her daily outfits.

Micah finds Halloween cheesy, but you have to dress up to go the party, and for some reason, he wants to go. He already owns shirts so he pulls together a cliché mafia outfit. 

[ellana-ravenwood]

“I don’t play games, Mr. Morgan” - Arthur Morgan x Reader (x the entire gang really)

Well. I have been playing too much Red Dead Redemption 2. And I kinda... fell in love with Arthur. I know none of y’all asked for this, and that it’s not from the usual fandoms I post about but…I’m late to the RDR2 party and just finished the game, and was left with TOO MANY feelings not to write something about it. Plus, Arthur Morgan deserves all the love. I hope you’ll like it : 

WARNING : Long ass fic. Like. LONG AF. If anyone read it all...wow. I...kinda got carried away. Also, some slight chapter 3 spoilers. Nothing too big.

My master list : @ella-ravenwood-archives 

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                                                      ******

“What are you thinking about, (Y/N) ?”

You jump a bit in the air, startled. You were once again lost in some day dream and was definitely not expecting anyone to come and talk to you at this hour ! It was quite late at night, and most of your friends were asleep already. Plus, you were a bit away from the camp, sitting in the grass, looking at the stars, hard to spot in the darkness. 

So when Arthur came and sat down beside you, asking you that...You jumped up in surprise. He smiles mischievously at you, giving you that damn smirk you loved so much, and ads :

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya.”

“Oh it’s ok. I didn’t expect anyone to find me here. And I definitely didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

“Yeah, Lenny and I were able to wrap things up quicker than we was thinking.”

“Good. Are you staying a little bit or...”

“I’m staying tomorrow, and leaving the day after that. I think.”

You smile at him, happy to know he’ll stay at least for a day. Both of you were constantly send on jobs and missions by Dutch or Hosea (or anyone in the camp really, it seemed neither of you knew how to say “no”), it was difficult to catch up. 

For once, it looked like the two of you would be in camp at the same time. Not that it meant much anyway, you’d still...You know, act as if neither of you was incredibly attracted to the other. 

“So, what was you thinking about, my lady ?” 

You knew he called all the other women at the camp that too, but whenever he used this term of endearment on you...your heart fluttered in the most wonderful way. 

You smile at him a little more, and you wonder if it’s wishful thinking that makes you discern in the faint moonlight, the slightest blush on his cheeks ? 

Maybe he just drunk a bit before coming to see you. Yes. That probably explained his little blush. Not the fact that you smiled at him. You turn your gaze back up at the sky, unable to see the disappointment in his eyes as he can’t quite see your face anymore.

“Nothing in particular. Was wondering if we’d ever travel to the stars one day. Things like that.” 

“Traveling to the stars ? That would be something.” 

“Wouldn’t it ? I bet the Pinkertons wouldn’t follow us up there...” 

There’s a few seconds of silence, where you can feel Arthur staring holes into you. Fixing his gaze on you thoughtfully, and God forbid you’d turn around to hold his stare. You fear it might break whatever is happening now. 

You can see his hand rise, and start to reach for your shoulder...but before he can touch you, he raises his arms and act as if he was just stretching. Damn it. This always happens. He always gestures to touch you, but never goes through with it. And in that moment ? You wish he had. 

Talking about the Pinkertons brought some more fear back in your heart. He can see that, of course. That you’re scared and worried. And he wishes he had the guts to reassure you, and to hold you in his arms. But he does no such things. Instead, he looks up at the sky too, wave his hand dismissively and says : 

“Aaaah, Dutch will think of a plan.” 

It’s your turn to stare at him for a few seconds, thoughtfully. He can feel your gaze, and at the same time, his heart starting to beat wildly. And he can’t say anything else. He wishes he could. He wishes he could tell you everything will be alright, and that he’d always be there for you (a promise he never made to anyone else before, but knew he wanted to to you). But he doesn’t. Instead, he stays silent, and tries to ignore your eyes fixed on him. And then you sigh, shake your head, stand up and say : 

“I s’ppose you’re right Arthur, I s’ppose you’re right. Anyway, I should get to bed. Lots of things to do tomorrow. Night.” 

“Right. Night, (Y/N).” 

He tries to hide his disappointment as he sees you leave already. He just came back from a job Hosea asked him to do, and was exhausted. He wished nothing more than to go to bed...Well, actually, that was not true. When he saw you, sitting in the field, all his exhaustion vanished and he just had to come to talk to you before going to collapse on his cot. 

And now you were leaving. Already. Before you two could have your usual little nightly conversation. 

He sighs, he knew why you left. It’s because he blew it once more. He could’ve been there for you, reassure you and comfort you. Instead, he told you things you already knew, cut the conversation short and made you leave because of his awkwardness. What was his problem ?! 

Oh, but he knew what his problem was. His heart told him to reach for you and embrace you. But his head warned him to do no such things. 

Because if he did ? Then he’d give you the wrong idea. Then you’d hope he felt the same than you did...Ah. Because Arthur Morgan was pretty sure he was a dumbass, but he wasn’t so dense as to not notice the way you looked at him, or sought his conversation often. 

Hell, he did the exact same things. Because if he didn’t want to get your hopes up, it wasn’t because he didn’t feel the same. It was because he couldn’t allow himself to feel the same, and to drag you down with him. To curse you with his love. Because he breaks everything he touches...There was a reason, why everyone left him. 

He was no do gooder. And though you were part of the gang too, you deserved better than someone like him. A bad person can’t expect good things to happen to them. He did too many awful things in his life to deserve your love, your warmth. 

Oh he would kill to have it...But that was the problem. His thought process. “Would kill”. The first words that came to his mind, and oh how revealing it all was. He robbed one too many time, lied more than he should have. Killed, too. And so for the rest of his days, he didn’t deserve to have someone like you, beautiful, smart and oh so warm, love him. 

Arthur used to think that Mary was the only one who could confuse him, and play him like a fiddle... But he was wrong. You entered his life and he forgot all about her. Well, not quite. She was still his first love, and a constant reminder of why he couldn’t go through with it with you. 

Yes, Arthur used to think only Mary could make him feel things like that. But then you came in. And you ? Oh you were something else alright.

But as he looked upon the stars, and heard your footsteps died down towards the camp, he scolded himself for the hundred time not to get close to you. Not to spoil you with his badness. Because his feelings for you were all wrong, his uncontrollable love was tainted, and he could never deserve your warmth.

************

Arthur didn’t quite understand yet, that you had already been spoiled. By life. By other people. And that you could be, and have been just as “bad” as him.

Living like an outlaw is all you ever knew. And all you ever wanted to know.

Maybe it was bad, that you did’t want to learn new, safer ways of life. Probably, actually. There was a high chance that you’d die young, and violently. But…

Freedom. 

“Freedom” was the first word you said, according to your daddy (granted, he wasn’t a reliable source as he had the terrible tendency to exaggerate everything when telling stories). 

And ever since you were young, both your parents nursed this idea in your head. “Live free. Don’t let anyone tell you what to do.” 

Well, except maybe for them. You still had to go to bed when they told you to...flawed logic in your opinion. When you told that to them once, when you weren’t even ten, they both laughed for a very long time, vexing you to no end. 

Your father ran his own little gang, and your mother knew exactly what he was and accepted him fully. She even embraced that life all heartedly. Which was understandable, as she lived her early years sheltered in a golden cage.

She too, wasn’t fit for a life in the « civilised » world, where women had no rights and no voice. And your daddy ? Your daddy was offering her opportunities where she could wear pants if she wanted, or go hunting, or basically do everything everyone always told her she couldn’t do. 

Your ma’ was born into high society, and it’s only luck that made her met your father (well, you’re not sure your grandfather would call it « luck » but hey, from what you heard he was a controlling asshole).

To your mom, meeting your daddy was her destiny. It changed her entire life, for the better. She often told you the story of how everything came to be : She had been kidnapped, and guess who her very rich father called to get her back ? Your gangster of a father. 

This was a time when the Wild West was still just that, wild. And the Law had not much grasp on it. Most of the time, people handled their problems on their own, and it more often than not ended in bloodsheds. 

Your grandfather refused to pay your mother’s ransom…but paid a handsome prize to your daddy so he would get her back. 

Pride is an awful thing, your ma always said.

Now she never quite recovered from the fact that her own father would have rather she died than paying a ransom to “savages” like those who kidnapped her. Only to pay another gunslinger to get her back. With the risk of her dying. 

When she learned of the deal her father struck with your daddy, she decided she’d never go home to him. She couldn’t. Her own father placed more values in his pride than in her life. Who would want to go back to a kind of life where she was clearly just another piece of merchandize for him to do as he saw fit ? 

So, she never went back home. 

Your daddy often said that he didn’t quite know at the time why he decided to help her. Why when she said : “my father is a wretched man, I will not go back. Ever.”, he accepted to take her with him far enough from it all. 

It was clear that this decision would bring him more bad than good. Taking a rich man’s daughter away from him like that ? It would come to bite him in the ass someday. And yet he took her amongst his gang without a second thought. 

Ah but who was he fooling ? Already at that time, he was absolutely crazy about her. The fact that she had a calm life, a peaceful path already forged for her, and that she decided to throw it all away to live in the wild ? It made him instantly drawn to her. 

And so here you came into the picture, daughter of a high society woman who refused to follow conventions, and of an outlaw on the run. 

Raised into a gang, raised in the wilderness of the Wild West. Often moving or in hiding. But always, always feeling this freedom.

You met the Van der Linde gang when you were around 10, as both them and your daddy’s gang had eyes on the same target. 

It could have, just like a lot of things in the West, end up in blood…but your daddy and Dutch went along so well that they did the hit together, and shared the amount won. 

Both of the men had the same vision of things, and they gave most of the money “earned” away to the poor. You reckon they both fancied themselves modern Robin Hoods…Aah, those were simpler times. 

When the Wild West was still wild. 

You met up occasionally with them, whenever you crossed passed in the huge open space of the West. You liked them, but never gave them much thought as at the time, you were to young to know better. All you remember is that Dutch and Hosea often brought you books. You liked books. 

You did a few hit with them too…Well, “you”.  

You were actually just a child, and most of the time at camp doing boring chores (so much for freedom…). Then again, both your parents had a way of putting said chores into perspective. They were boring, but necessary, and you felt like a heroe when you were doing them and the members of the gang came home thanking you for your hard work, giving you candies and chocolate !!

Life was good. It didn’t mean you never knew hardship, sometimes life with the gang was tough, and growing up in those conditions wasn’t always ideal…But it was the only life you knew, and you liked it.

Life, was good.

And it remained good and careless for 18 years. A feat in your line of work really. 18 years of near bliss in a gang of outlaws ? You never heard of that anywhere else. You were definitely a lucky one. Once again, everything wasn’t always easy, but in your eyes...It was good. 

That’s when Colm O’Driscoll came in and ruined everything.

Your parents were talking about disolving the gang. Or rather, pass it to someone else. That someone else being, of course, their beloved daughter. Who was born an outlaw, and who they were sure would do wonder with a gang of her own. 

They knew they couldn’t take you away from this free life just yet, but they wanted out. Which was understandable. 

You often imagined that, once you’d reach a certain age, you too would like to live a more peaceful life…Still free, in the open space of the West, but not robbing folks no more. Or at least, not as often as you used to.

By the time your parents decided they wanted to retire, you were 18 and often joined in the robberies. Chores weren’t as boring as they used to…Your  specialty was to scout ahead, and report to your daddy.

Life was good. 

But before your parents retired, they had one last coup in mind, so they could live their new life without worrying about money. Ever. 

They suddenly fancied themselves as ranchers of some sorts. You made fun of them a lot, but secretly thought this would be good for them. They weren’t getting any younger for sure, and it would be nice, if they could die of old age and not in a shoot out. 

You supported their decisions, and you’re the one that found that last big hit.

There was a small town, not far from where you settled for the moment. It was full of nouveau riche and though there weren’t many inhabitants, all of them were loaded and new to the West. The town didn’t even exist barely two years ago, it was founded by rich easterners in quest of adventures. 

They had no experience of how ruthless the West was, and a bank full of gold. A lot of naiveté and a few guards. Easy peasy. 

Only you weren’t the only gang that had eyes on this tremendous prize who was suppose to be an easy job. Dem O’Driscolls were also interested. Their patriarch however, Colm O’Driscoll himself, quickly realized that it would be even easier if he paired up with your daddy’s gang. 

Your dad was a smart, but much too trustful man. He agreed. This was his last job, he wanted things to run smoothly, and sure enough, having more hands to help would be very welcome to do just that. 

Plus, he knew that Dutch was a friend of Colm, and your pa’ was by then a very good friend of Dutch and Hosea. So a friend of a friend...

Yeah. No. The motherfucker double crossed all of you. Ran with the money after butchering most of your gang, and left you behind fightin’ against the people you thought were helpless, but that were resolutely decided to defend their new home. The O’Driscolls had decimated most of y’all already, and you weren’t enough to defend yourself anymore. You saw everyone you loved die one by one. 

Worst, so that you could survive, so that you could live and escape...Your own parents sacrificed themselves as you ran away. Not by cowardice, but because it was your ma and pa’s last wish. What good would it be if all three of you died ? They said. And so they made you run, as they sacrificed themselves for you. 

It felt like you had murdered them yourself. Patricide, matricide, those were really big sins, apparently...maybe that’s why you got cursed and hit a streak of bad luck after that ? Why Colm O’Driscoll captured you when you tried to exact your revenge on him, and held you captive, hurting you every day for his own amusement ? You probably deserved all this pain. Because of you, your parents died. Because of you...

Seven years. Seven years of misery, and getting lost in this World, not knowing what to do with your life now that everyone you ever loved was gone. Was freedom really worth all this blood ? All this pain ? 

Seven years of wandering, lost. Until you saw Colm O’Driscoll in a saloon once. Followed him, and intended to kill him, but got caught first...And things started to suddenly look up. 

It might sound completely contradictory that you the day he caught you and you became the punching ball of his gang started to change your fate for the best but...Being with the O’Driscolls really saved you in the end. 

By that time, Colm had also betrayed Dutch Van der Linde, killing the woman he loved (granted, Dutch killed his brother first..), and whenever him and his gang got wind of an O’Driscoll camp, they’d raid it. 

That night, fate decided that they would raid the one in which you were held captive. And that Hosea would recognize you as being one of his best friend’s daughter. He heard about your gang ultimate demise and...

And that’s how you ended up joining in the Van Der Linde gang.

************

This happened three winters ago. 

After years of wandering the West with nothing to live for, and yet stubbornly holding on to life...you found a family again, in the shape of the Van der Linde gang.

Now sure, you just went through a very rough patch, what with the event at Blackwater, loosing so many friends, and having to run away from Valentine’s, followed too closely for comfort by the Pinkertons. 

But still. Wether it was here at Clemens Point, or anywhere else, You were family. No question about that. And this would never change. 

There was Dutch of course, whom you always liked (he really did bring you great books when you were a child and he met up with your parents’ gang), he had just such a charisma you know ? It was hard not to follow him and drink his every words. Not to trust him that he would find a way to get you all out of this mess. 

Hosea, full of wisdom and great stories. He reminded you a lot of your father, and where Dutch was overdramatic and grandiloquent, Hosea was discreet and insidious. Great actor. In another life, he could have been something else. You liked to just sit by his side and listen to him talk about his past. 

Uncle, whom you were pretty sure used to be the best gunslinger in the West in his younger years, but that now was a drunk who liked to sing dirty songs and laughed too loudly...You liked Uncle. Whenever you felt down, you could be sure that being around that old man would cheer you up. 

Miss Grimshaw, who yelled at you more than once when she caught you daydreaming one too many times, but who was also always kind and fair. 

Bill, who was a big dumb man whom you liked to annoyed because he had no self-control. It was too easy to rile him up and then watch him getting yelled at by Grimshaw, or Dutch, or Hosea etc etc...for not being able to control himself. 

Pearson, the camp cook. You were pretty sure he always sweated in the stew, which never really stopped you from eating it. It was still good. Plus you had eaten much worst things in your life as an outlaw. 

Strauss, the Austrian bookkeeper. He kind of gave you the creep, and you usually stood clear of him. There was something in him that you just didn’t like, without really knowing what. 

Molly, who could act all high and mighty but was actually a nice lady. She just wasn’t very lucky when it came to matters of the heart...As much as you thought Dutch was great, you definitely would never like to be in a relationship with him. Yikes. 

Tilly, kind and too pure for this world...Except that you saw many times that she had a much darker side that was kinda terrifying, and you learned not to get fooled by her appearance. She seemed so nice and forgiving, but then you saw her a few times getting in skirmishes and she could be ruthless. 

Sean, Irish lad with a big mouth. He always made you laugh though, with his dumb jokes. At the same time, he often annoyed you too, as it seems he could never shut up. 

Karen. Sweet on Sean. But also one of the best conwoman you ever met. She could made diversions like nobody, and no one ever suspected her to pull a gun on them. Element of surprise was sure always on her side. Plus, she had a way with words and could make anyone talk about things they shouldn’t talk about...

Mary-Beth. A genuine sweet lady. She liked romance book and to write, and always had kind words for those who needed it. At the same time, she let nobody walk on her feet and if she had to run her mouth to defend herself, she would without hesitation. Got her in some bad predicaments more than once but...That’s just how she was.  

Reverend Swanson ! He both made you laugh and made you very sad. You often pitied him, but you always lend him an ear when he starts to ramble while in a drug haze. Funny haircut. Quotes the Bible randomly, and at no one in particular ?

Lenny. Young and eager. Suffered already too much for his age (but didn’t you all ? If any of y’all had a happy/normal childhood, you wouldn’t be here). You predicted a bright future for him, and hoped he found his way one day. He was always of good company, and you were pretty sure he had a crush on you, as he constantly got flustered when you gave him more than ten seconds of your attention. 

Charles. Fascinating man. Half-black, half-native. He always had amazing hindsight about things, and though he wasn’t part of the gang since a long time, he was already one of your closest friend. He had a way to see the World that spoke to you on a spiritual level. Plus, he was rather easy on the eyes, which was a nice bonus. 

Javier. You loved his accent and his guitar. He was a very vain man, seriously you never saw a guy pay that much attention to his clothes and such...but also a very attractive one, on more than one side. He was easy to talk to, always up for some shenanigans, and could really liven up a party with his music. He was also always keen to share with you his culture, when he discovered how interested you were in it. 

Micah Bell. Now here’s a guy you didn’t know what to think of. Sometimes, you wanted to punch him with all your might, and some other times...There was something in his eyes. Something that told you horrible stuffs must have happened to him. Made him that way. That he became such an asshole for a reason. Didn’t excuse any of his behavior, and most of the times you wanted to kick him in the nuts, but there were those rare occasions where you wanted to give him the benefice of the doubt, and try to understand where he was coming from...Ya must be crazy. 

Sadie was very new, but you quickly became friend. You had a common enemy. Colm O’Driscoll. He was the reason your family died, and she lost her husband because of him. You were there when she was at her lowest, no matter how much she rejected and insulted you. And you knew that from that point and on, when she finally opened up ? She’d be there for you. Always. It was a gut feeling, and your gut feelings were always right. 

Trelawny was in and out and you always kind of were...suspicious of him. He was fancy and used big words, and he was too much of a charmer to be honest. Then again, who was honest in that family of yours ? You were all thieves, murderers and conmen. But Trelawny ? He was a step above everyone else, on the conman ladder. It just seemed like he always found a way back on his feet, and was an extremely lucky person. 

Abigail was a tough one. She always spoke her mind, and clung to her independence, but she was also affection starved (which is probably why she always ran after John, yet running backward and always snapping at me...with reasons, of course). She dreamt of something bigger than this outlaw life, you knew it. And you kinda understood it. Especially with a kid...

Talking about the kid. Little Jack was probably one of your favorite person ever. Four years old, sweetest little bean in the world. Would rather make flower crowns than learning how to survive, but still the cutest of them all. You’d give your life without thinking twice, if it meant saving that boy. You and him were very close, whenever it was too much for Abigail to have to take care of him alone (when John left), and sorrow overtook her...you’d take little Jack and read him fairytales and other things. 

His father, John, was a little younger than you and such a whiney baby. He came back to the gang about the time as you joined it, after apparently over a year of absence. And he clearly had some difficulty to know what he truly wanted. You understood him though, and knew that just like Abigail, he somehow aspired to more than just this outlaw life...But man could he act more childishly than his own four year old son !

You still weren’t sure on which feet to stand with that Kieran kid. He saved Arthur apparently but...He used to be an O’Driscoll. 

Oh. Talking about who he saved. Last but not least...Arthur Morgan himself. 

You could write entire essays, about that man. Unfortunately so. 

Each member of the gang was like family to you. They were all dear to your heart, in a certain way. But Arthur ? Arthur was something else. 

Sure, you thought Charles or Javier for example, were attractive and enticing fellers. You loved their personalities and if Arthur didn’t exist, you’d surely have taken a bite out of one of them. Possibly both. Bonus point if it was at the same time. 

But because Arthur Morgan was living and breathing...it was an impossible thing for you to even see other men. 

Three years ago, he’s the one that found you in that tent, bruised and abused, and untied you. Took you in his arms and help you ride back to the gang’s camp. 

He’s the one that nursed you back to health, even if it wasn’t something he was used to do ? He’s...at first, you thought you had a little crush on the man because he was the one who did all that. The one that technically saved you. 

You thought because in your subconscious he was your savior, that it played tricks on your heart. You quickly realized, however, that this wasn’t the case at all. 

Arthur Morgan and you ? You understood each others more than anyone else. 

You knew why he became who he was, why he was such a rough and ruthless man. Just like you, he was born in an outlaw world. His daddy too, wasn’t such a nice man. And though you idolized your parents (in the same way Arthur would follow Dutch to the end), you never were foolish enough to ignore the fact that they weren’t particularly good people, in the end. After all, they robbed, killed, lied...And sure they would play “modern Robin Hoods” and never kill “innocents”, but it didn’t take away the fact they weren’t “good” people. You’d never lie to yourself and say they were decent, not with the kind of life you and them lead. 

Which is why you understood Arthur. 

Why you understood him when he constantly repeated he wasn’t a good man, even as he did good things. Or when he seemed, at times, to completely and utterly hate himself. Why he always pushed some people away, and guards his heart so ferociously. 

Because you too, hated yourself (you were still feeling guilty for your family’s death, and the fact you were the only survivor). You too, did pretty horrible things to survive. You too, robbed, murdered and lied. You too, chose this life of freedom yes, but also of great sacrifices, blood, and dated ideals. You too, lost everything you cared for...

There were moments, when Arthur confided in you. It was usually after a long day of work, and the fatigue made the walls he build around himself smaller. It would be just you and him, sitting a bit farther from the camp. 

He told you about Eliza and Isaac. About loosing them. How it hardened him further. And hell you couldn’t imagine the pain of loosing a child...Worst, the pain of loosing a child, and the insidious feeling of being so sure it was your fault. 

That you could have it all, but were too foolish to take the opportunity at the time, only to lose everything. 

He also told you about Mary, and honestly ? You couldn’t blame her, and you didn’t pity Arthur for his heartbreak. He chose this life, just like you did. You both chose freedom over...Whatever a woman like Mary could give him. 

She wasn’t like him. Or like you. She aspired to things that were much different. She could never understand Arthur’s ways. Some things are never meant to be, and though those two were deep in love at a time, it could just never have worked out. They were too different. They never quite understood each others. 

And in the end, was it really true love if neither of them ever made compromises ? Arthur never even tried to get out of his way of life, and Mary never tried to understand him. They loved each others but weren’t willing to try everything in their powers to make it work. Both of them. Not just one changing. No, both walking towards each others. For love. 

Aaaah, but that was only wishful thinking on your side, right ? That maybe Arthur wasn’t that deep in love with Mary Linton, and you still had a chance somehow...Mm. Right. 

Well. You had always been a hopeless dreamer.

************

Hopeless dreamer you might be, but Arthur always send you such mixed signals ! Like that day, when you were looking at the stars a bit away from the camp and he came to ask you what you were thinking about...Or like tonight. 

It was Sean’s welcome home party, and you were so drunk you could barely stand. You were singing along to one of Uncle’s dirty song, gently swaying to the voices of your friends. 

You rarely drunk alcohol, so it didn’t take you much to be in that state, but who cared really ? You were happy Sean came back, and was having fun with yer friends ! And that’s when you spotted him, as Uncle’s song ended and everyone applauded and laughed. 

Arthur. 

He was standing on the other side of the camp fire, and staring at you. Given the shade of his cheeks, he was clearly not in his normal state either. You smiled and waved at him, and he smiled fondly back at you. Giving you a sweet smile that you rarely saw on his face...

Clumsily, you start to walk towards him, and he looks pleased to see you’re making the first move (even drunk, his head kept telling him to stay away, a feat he never seem to quite achieve...). 

But then Mary-Beth approaches him, and asks him if he wants to dance with her. Dutch had just put his gramophone on, and was dancing lovingly with Molly (both were also drunk). And your heart sunk. 

Mary-Beth was so much more beautiful than you, and charming, and smart, and...You could feel your smile fade away, and your steps slow down. 

Oh but Mary-Beth was a great friend. She followed Arthur’s gaze, as she saw he wasn’t paying much attention to her (ever since you came in the gang Arthur didn’t pay much attention to any women but you, really), and she smiled knowingly, changing her speech up : 

“Or rather, would you dance with (Y/N) ? (Y/N), would you dance with Arthur ?” 

Mary-Beth had read enough romance novel to recognize the sort of situation you were both into. You clearly were head over heels for each others, but some dumb reasons stopped you from admitting it. Your friend wasn’t about to let it happen passively, and so she made the first move on you for Arthur. Sneaky, but very appreciated. 

You blush, and hope this will pass on the account that you’re very drunk, and you say a bit shyly : 

“Um, sure. If he wants to.” 

Arthur, in the haze of the alcohol, forgets that he’s no good for you and smiles dumbly, saying : 

“Oh he wants to alright. C’m here.” 

He opens his arms, and it’s only when you put your hands in his, and flush your body against him (or rather fall on him, too damn drunk...but in his eyes, he felt you gracefully flush against him as he saw everything you did as being perfect), that he’s reminded why he can’t do this. Your warmth a wake-up call as to why he could never have you. 

He fleetingly thinks that he should push you away right now, so that you’ll think he dislikes you or something. But the mere thought of you thinking ill of him makes him physically sick. Once again, a large array of contradictory emotions attack him, and...They all melt away as he looks down at you, and at how happy you look, there, swaying lightly in his arms. 

“I didn’t know you could dance, Arthur.” 

“I can’t.”

And yet he swirls smoothly around, with a drunk you in his arms. Your heart flutter pleasantly at how close he is, and you can’t help but give him your best smile. This makes him melt, and unconsciously, he squeezes you a bit closer. 

You raise your head, and you just look too happy. Arthur can’t quite wrap his head around the fact that he’s the one giving this sort of feeling right now. Or maybe it was the alcohol ? No. No he felt it in his bones, it was because he was dancing with you, that you were happy. 

Something so simple...he wanted to make you happy every day of your life. Oh if only this moment could last forever. But Dutch’s gramophone stops, and you’re still in his arms. 

Your face is so close from his. He would just have to slightly tilt his head to touch your lips with his. And oh lord, does he want to. Slowly, both of you are drawn to each others. And there’s a moment, a perfect moment, where he can truly feel your warmth...

But as your soft and warm lips softly brush against his rough and chapped ones, the voice at the back of his head telling him that all of this is wrong is screaming at him to stop. To not do that to you. He does not deserve your warmth, your love. And his own love for you will taint you...

And so he jumps back, letting go of you all at once, and you trip backward. He gestures to reach and catch you so you wouldn’t fall, but Charles is faster than him. The man was standing not far from the two of you, and saw you topple down...

Charles’ hands on you drives him crazy, and that’s his queue to leave. Jesus. He can’t believe he let all of that go this far. Dumb fucking Morgan. This was because of the alcohol fogging his mind, his reason. He swore he would never drink again, as he walks away to his cot without even saying good night to you, and leaves you behind, utterly confuse and sad. Why was this always happening ? 

One step forward, four steps back. 

************

“You’re an idiot, Arthur Morgan.” 

“Wow. If John Marston himself tells me I’m an idiot, it definitely means something, seeing as he’s the dumbest man I’ve ever met.”

“Ha ha, you think you’re funny don't you ?” 

“I have my moments.” 

There’s a long silence installing itself, and John just glares at Arthur without adding anything. Vexed. The man was vexed. Which amused Arthur to no end, but curiosity as to why John thought he was an idiot overtook his amusement, and so he asked :

“Are you going to tell me why I’m an idiot, or do I have to guess ? Unless you just wanted to compliment me out of the blue like that ?” 

“You damn well know why.” 

“I do not. Or I wouldn’t ask.” 

“You have a girl like (Y/N) in your life, and you act like she means nothing to you ? You’re an idiot.” 

Arthur narrows his eyes at John, and Mr. Marston knows he just struck a nerve when his friend says : 

“You’re the one to talk, Mr. I-Walk-away-from-the-woman-I-love-at-the-first-sign-if-trouble.” 

Typical self-defense. Turning John’s words against himself. But John isn’t about to give up, not when he sees how sad it’s making you, and how much Arthur is being a goddamn idiot. John always liked you, even when you teased him about being a whiney baby. 

He kind of saw you as his little sister, even though you were older than him. And seeing you sad while everyone damn well knew you were both hopelessly in love drove him mad. It made him incredibly angry too, to see Arthur refuse himself some happiness because he thought he deserved none. 

And so John says : 

“Exactly Arthur. I’m not one to talk about such a subject. But ya know what brother ? I don’t want you to do the same mistakes than me, I don’t want you to take so long to realize that what you’ve always wanted is standing in front of ya ? It took me some times. But now, I know what I want. I know I love Abigail, and Jack. And that I want to give them a better life. I know I’m no good man, and they probably deserve better. But for some crazy reasons they chose me, and it’s my responsibility to be there for them now. And (Y/N) ? Her heart clearly already chose you, and playing with her like you do is cruel.” 

“I’m not playing with her !” 

“Oh you’re not ? Then why don’t you just cut all ties ? Tell her you don’t feel the same ? Why do you dance with her, stare at her, almost touch her so many times ? Why don’t you truly walk away, instead of going back to her over and over again ? Why don’t you leave her alone, if she’s so much better without you ?” 

Arthur doesn’t answer, and once again, John knows he struck a nerve. It was time for the coup de grace. The last words that hopefully, would knock some sense into Arthur’s thick stubborn skull : 

“Now, you know what they say ? When dumbass John Marston thinks you’re an idiot, it must mean something. And when he reads you better than you read yourself...Ya know what they say.” 

Arthur looks at John leave, confused. The hell did THAT mean ? Tt. 

But John had indeed struck a nerve. Only, it was having the opposite reaction of what the man was trying to do, as Arthur’s gaze slowly moved to you once more. 

One last look. Before he finally cut all ties, before he tells you he knows you’re in love with him, and lies to your face saying that he doesn’t feel the same. Before he makes you truly hate him by saying that he was just playin’ with ya indeed. 

It already breaks his heart, to just think about you hating him. But he can see now, after what John said, that it is necessary. If even dumbass Marston can see how he feels about you, then...Then he really had to do it. To go and break your heart. So you could move on, go away from him. He wasn’t good for you. He didn’t deserve your warmth and love. 

He stands up, and slowly walks towards you...But is stopped by Dutch. The first few words the man tells him fly right above his head, until Dutch shakes him by the shoulder and he finally tears his eyes off of you, and listens. 

What was that about a peace treaty with Colm O’Driscoll ? 

************

You feel all life leaving you as you see him topple down from his horse, wearing nothing but an union suit, and clearly badly injured. 

You rush to him, following all your friends. Everything goes by slowly, and in a blur, as they carry him to his cot. You barely hear Dutch telling Miss Grimshaw to keep an eye on him...but then you hear his voice, weak and pleading : 

“(Y/N)...” 

He whispers your name a few time, and everyone turns to you. Susan stands up, and gives you the chair next to Arthur’s cot. You sit down on it without hesitation, and get close to him. 

Weaker than you ever saw him, and for the first time ever, he reaches for your hand. He takes hold of it, and brings it against his chest. 

And he refuses to let go, even as Reverend Swanson is trying his best to patch him up. He holds your hand with all the force he has left. And makes tiny whining sounds every time he thinks you’re about to leave. 

It makes your heart almost jump out of your chest, as you slowly lower yourself down next to him, kneeling next to his coat, your head resting on his stomach, revealing in the reassurance that it slowly moves up and down as he breathes. 

************

Arthur is in a complete daze. For a long time, he thinks he must be in Heaven or some place like that, as all he can feel right now is this excruciating pain coming from his shoulder, but also your warmth. 

Whenever he opens his eyes, you’re there. Holding his hand firmly. And he thinks this must be it. He’s dead. He’s dead and he’s in Heaven. 

Because you’re there, and he finally feels your warmth. But wait, this isn’t Heaven...this is Hell. Because every time he wants to feel you more, run his fingers through your soft hair, reach to dry the tears running down your cheeks, brush the back of his hand against them, hold you closer to him, hold more than just your hand...he can't find the strength in him to do so. 

Everything hurts, his head is so warm and ringing. And you’re right there, so close, but he can’t quite reach you, doomed forever to feel part of your warmth, but not its entirety. 

“(Y/N)...” 

He hears himself say weakly, and suddenly you’re there, so close to him, bending above him. But he still can’t reach you. And it’s pure torture. 

He can see your eyes though, and your face...And once again, he hears himself say, in a weak and husky voice : 

“I love you.” 

The truth. Finally. He said it and it feels like a giant weight had been lifted from his shoulders. And maybe that’s all it took for him to access Heaven ? Finally saying the truth ? Being honest, and feeling nothing else but a deep love ? 

Because suddenly, he feels your warmth all around his body as you wrap your arms carefully around him. And when you whisper “I love you too”, Arthur just knows he must have died and went to Heaven. 

************

For the next few days, you nurse him the best you can, trying to get his fever down unsuccessfully unfortunately. More than once, you and Reverend Swanson fear that you’re going to loose him...But Arthur always pulls through, as if he found a new strength to survive. 

He always seems stronger when you touch him, and so you never leave his side. You couldn’t have anyway...A few times, he whispers to you again that he loves you, more than anything in the world. And he seems to relax each time he feels you holding him carefully...

************

“Forget what I said, (Y/N).”

He whispers in the night, and you straighten up. Your neck hurts like hell, as you’ve been slepping kneeling next to him for the past few days. You didn’t hear what he said, but as usual you reach for his forehead and...

His fever finally broke. Thank god. A large smile crosses your face, and you reach to caress his cheek softly. But he looks the other way. Uh ? What happened ? Maybe he forgot he ever confessed his love to you...Which didn’t matter anyway, now that you knew, you were all too willing to make the first step. You’re about to say something, when he repeats : 

“Forget what I said.” 

“Fo...Forget what you said ?”

“It was the fever speaking. I didn’t think it. I...don’t love you.” 

He says, but the way he avoids your eyes tells you everything you need to know. Because you weren’t stupid either, and this time, you were sure of his feelings. And oh, oh you’ve just had about enough of those games. 

All this flirting, then backtracking, almost kiss, then running away for a few days, dancing only to push you away (quite literally). All those times he came to you first to talk to you, and then pushed you away when things got too personal. All...all...Everything ! 

“I’m not going to forget, Arthur. Unless you tell me you don’t love me while looking at me in the eyes.” 

You say resolutely, and on his face there’s only pain. You’re afraid he might suffer from his wound too much to speak, until he says : 

“I’m no good for you. Walk away while you still can. End this.” 

And you understand. It’s not his wound, that pains him, but his self-hatred. 

You and him ? You understood each others more than anyone else. And you knew how he felt about himself, as you had similar feelings towards yourself. But where you sought solace and redemption in your love for him, he only dug himself deeper...You knew since a long time, that he was refusing himself any happiness. 

That after Eliza and Isaac, he closed his heart as best he could. After Mary, too. Realizing he didn’t deserve good things, because he was a bad man. 

Where you knew that you weren’t a particularly good person (even though just like him, you were born into it and never really had a choice...?) and seeked happiness to counterbalance all this self-hatred, and to maybe try to find a better way of living, knowing that love could save someone...he just stubbornly denied himself any good thing happening, thinking he didn’t deserve it. 

And maybe he indeed didn’t. Maybe you didn’t either. And the world was just being cruel to make you two fall in love only to later tear you apart...But you wanted a shot at it. Happiness. 

You hadn’t felt happy, truly happy, in so long. And only him made you feel at ease, and made everything make sense. Only him made you want to change your ways, and be a better person. 

You weren’t about to let that go, as selfish as it could be. Hey because after all, you weren’t such a good person either. Selfish you could be. 

“You deserve better. I’m no good man. Forget what I said, and walk away.” 

He says again, and this time, you roll your eyes at him. You say : 

“I’ve done bad things too, and you know it. You’re putting me on this weird pedestal where you think I’m better than you are, but the truth is that I’m not. I know you think no good thing can happen to bad people, and maybe you’re right. And yet, here I am, in love with you. Now if you don’t love me, then say it. Say it while looking in my eyes. And then I guess your theory about no good thing happens to bad people will be confirmed.” 

Arthur turns his head quickly towards you, his head spinning a bit as he moved to fast, and looks deep into your eyes : 

“You’re not a bad person. You’ve done good things.” 

“So did you.” 

“No I-”

You’ve always been a very stubborn woman, and never took anyone’s shit. You weren’t about to let Arthur have his stupid ways of “you’re better off without me”. Not now. Not now that you know he feels the same than you do. And confirms that he loves you seconds by seconds, as he still doesn’t deny anything and tells you you’re good.

“Shut up Arthur. You shouldn’t speak anyway, you’re still weak. And I fear that saying such stupid things might weaken you further.” 

He looks at you again, and finds the slight smug smirk on your face irresistible. Did you just ? Yeah you did. In a few words you made your stand. You weren’t about to give up on him. 

It made his heart both happy and sad at the same time. You seem to understand his struggle however (you always understood him the best) as you add : 

“Say it. Say you don’t love me. While looking at me in the eye. Tell me. End this then, if you truly don’t love me.” 

But he can’t. He wants to. But he goddamn can’t. Because somehow, he cannot lie to you. He was never able to. And so he doesn’t answer, and looks away...but you’re not about to have that.

You softly lay your hands on each side of his face, and force him to look at you, saying : 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” 

“Don’t...”

He feels his resolve slowly melting away, and curses himself. No. No he can’t. He doesn’t deserve your warmth. He doesn’t. Damn this wound that weakened him, and damn this fever that made him speak the truth. Mercilessly , you repeat : 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. And I think you’re the best man I’ve ever known. Knowing my past, it doesn’t mean you’re a good man, by the way. And yet I still love you.” 

“Stop...” 

He knows you were also born an outlaw. That you did bad things. That you lived the same life he lead. That you lost people because of this. And yet he still feels like he doesn't deserve you. That you deserve someone better, someone good, that can save you, instead of dragging you down further. 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. Together, I know we can get better. On many aspects. I know you can heal my wounds...The one others can’t see. The one making my heart bleed. I know you’re the only one that can do that.”

Unfair. You’re being unfair. By saying he’s the only one that can mend you, the only one that can save you...So unfair. Because what monster would he be, if he walked away now ? 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan. Let me in. Let me try and heal you too. And if I fail, then at least I tried. It’s better to feel pain, than never feel at all.” 

Oh but you already healed him more than you could ever know. Because whenever he’s with you, his heart flutters happily, his stomach is filled with butterflies, he can’t help but smile stupidly, his worries seem to vanish, and no matter how hard he tried, he was never truly able to push you completely away. 

“I love you, Arthur Morgan, and I-”

“Stop it. (Y/N), stop.” 

“No I’m not going to stop. I lo-”

“Listen to me, please.” 

He turns his face to you, and bore his beautiful blue eyes into yours. He felt so weak, those past few days. He felt like he couldn’t move at all, like he wasn’t strong enough to. 

But here, with you, he feels like he can do anything. He feels stronger than before, though his body is still weak. And slowly, but surely, for the first time in days, he reaches his hand up and...

This time he doesn’t withdraw, or act as if he didn’t really mean it. 

He cups your cheek, and tells his head who tells him to not do this to shut up. He can barely hear that pesky voice at the back of his mind anyway, over the thunder of his heartbeats. 

Both you and him...you ain’t really good people. And normally, good things doesn’t happen to bad folks. But maybe, just maybe...That together, you can get better ? 

Double negative makes a positive, right ? 

It’s like something finally snapped inside him, after years and years of denying himself any sort of happiness. But this happened only because of what you said. Only because he realizes that your happiness now depends on him. 

That you smile because he smiles, and that you feel good because he’s there. Never in his wildest dreams would he ever thought that he’d make someone feel like that. Worst, that he’d BELIEVE that he was making someone feel all of that. 

There was no voice inside his head, saying that he was fooling himself. On the contrary, the voice was instead threatening him to not fuck this up, because now...Now your happiness depended on him. 

And his happiness depended on you. 

Double negative makes a positive, right ? 

“I...love you, too.” 

He finally says. And it’s the most honest he’ve ever been in his life. Because yes, yes he does. He loves you. With all his heart. He loves you so much that he was willing to let you go. And he loves you so much that he finally sees that maybe, just maybe, he isn’t so bad after all ? 

If he was able to bring you happiness somehow, maybe it was all worth it ?

And as he brought your face to his, you were thinking exactly the same thing. 

Double negative makes a positive, right ? 

When two bad people love each others so much that their soul slowly heals, it can only means...Oh but your lips are on his now, and for a split second, he wonders if he really died and by some mistakes ended up in Heaven. 

But no. This is reality. And he’s finally kissing you. And you’re kissing him back, eagerly albeit maybe a bit carefully as he’s still rather weak from his wounds. 

Your lips move in perfect sync, and it’s like your pain flies away. 

Both you and Arthur still have a long way to go to love yourselves, and maybe you’ll never be able to achieve this feat...But it’s ok, because you finally found someone who loved you fully and unconditionally for who you are.  

The end (?). 

__________________________________________________

Um. I realized that 1. the first part of this story might be boring as I’m setting up a backstory for the reader and it might be too long, 2. That the entire story is probably too long overall and 3. I never posted for this fandom so my “usual” followers might be completely uninterested and lost if they don’t know RDR2 but...I had to write something with Arthur. And I hope that for those who know nothing about Red Dead Redemption, you were still able to read this as a sort of stand alone story and understand who the characters are ?  I wrote it very late at night while sleep deprived (sorry for any typo, also my Frenchness gets out when I’m tired so I might have made awful grammar mistakes...), but still had fun doing it so, I hope you somewhat enjoyed it. 

As usual, feedbacks = life, and reblogs are always great to show your appreciation and share my stuffs. 

[reddeadmort]

Hello could I please request something with the reader being Hosea’s daughter where she and Arthur fall for each other and he’s real nervous about coming clean to Hosea & Dutch about it

So I’ve *tried* to fit this into the established timeline, luckily there’s not much canon around Hosea/Bessie background! I was originally intending on making this quite angsty, but as I wrote it got fluffier and fluffier - I had no idea I would ever write like this! I hope you enjoy :) 

 Arthur Morgan x F Reader | “So….Dad….”

Guidance: Don’t let the first paragraph fool you, this shit’s fluffy AF. You’re Hosea’s adult daughter.

Words: 2.1k

You had known something was wrong when your father had appeared with no warning at the Doctor’s office where you worked. You hadn’t seen him and your mother for a few years, but they sent letters regularly, and always a small package on your birthday. You’d received one such package for your 20th, just a few months prior to your father arriving to give you the bad news. Your mother, Bessie, was dead. Hosea was in a bad way, and you had insisted it on coming with him to look after him. After all, while you had a job, you had no close friends in that town. You’d always struggled there, since your parents had insisted you go live with your cousin at 13; you never really felt like you fit in.

Arriving at the Van der Linde gang camp had been a shock, and the next year or so was a struggle as your father nearly drank himself to death. But everyone was so kind, and helpful; Dutch was always there for you when you needed to cry after spending another evening trying to make sure your father didn’t die in his sleep. 

You and John were very close in age, and he felt like your brother. You had some good laughs, admittedly most at John’s expense. Intellectually, you could run rings around him; but he definitely had skills you didn’t and typically got his own back whenever you attempted to shoot a gun. You were learning, but he had years of experience and loved showing off. After living with the gang for a while, you started to understand why your parents had sent you away; it gave you stability, the chance for an education. But you still wished you’d had more time with your mother.

Arthur was older, wiser, different to John; he’d experienced more pain. You expected him to not really pay much attention to you, but he was more than willing to spend time with you, teaching you the skills you needed to make yourself useful. He especially enjoyed any teaching you anything that helped you in your long-running one-upmanship with John. As soon as you mastered one skill, there he was, ready with his next idea; as time went on, you slowly realised what he was doing. He was desperate to spend time with you, and you were more than happy to oblige. 

It had all come to a head on a hunting trip out on the plains. You’d had a rough day; you had tried to break one of the wild horses you saw, as you really needed one of your own. Arthur had been brilliant, showing you how to slowly move towards the horse, calming it as you did. It had been going so well, right up until you were thrown onto that cactus. 

Luckily, you only caught it with your arm, but it still took Arthur a while to carefully pull the spikes out. It was almost worth it though when he gently rubbed ointment into your sore skin. As you lay on the blanket, head nestled on Arthur’s shoulder, allowing your sore arm to rest, Arthur had kissed you. And you had kissed him back. 

In the months since then, you’d spent as much time as you could together. You’d only told Abigail and Mary-Beth; you needed their help if you were able to keep your relationship from Dutch and Hosea as long as possible. Your dad had been getting more and more protective recently; you suspected he was trying to make up for the failures in that year after your mother died. Ever since that year, Dutch had been like your second parent. He treated you differently from John, always choosing his words more carefully, being slightly kinder; you were sure he’d asked Miss Grimshaw to be easier on you too. 

That morning, you and Arthur had almost been caught. Dawn was barely breaking when Mary-Beth had practically thrown herself into Arthur’s tent. You were still half asleep, blissfully comfortable in Arthur’s arms. Grabbing you roughly by the wrist, she yanked you out of the back of the tent and behind the wagon. Still groggy, wearing only your nightdress, you were about to question her when you heard Bill and Dutch’s voices the other side. 

“Arthur, get up! Micah’s got a tip, and we’ve got a train to catch.” 

You and Mary-Beth had stayed perfectly still, waiting for the voices to fade into the distance. You only relaxed when Arthur’s confused face appeared from the back of the tent. After that, you’d crept back carefully to your and Mary-Beth’s tent; you owed her big, you knew it.

Late that afternoon, as soon as Arthur returned with the others, you went to speak to him in his tent. He was tired, but happy; the job had gone well, with not a single shot fired. You hugged him quickly, then sat on the corner of his bed. Arthur turned his back on you, fists on the table, looking down.

“Arthur…. we have to tell them.” He didn’t need to ask what you were talking about; it was the only thing that had been on his mind all day as well. 

“I know, (Y/N), I know. But I can’t….. I don’t know what to say.” Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed.

“Arthur, they are going to find out whether we want them to or not. And it would be much better for both of us if they found out on our terms, not with our legs tangled together.” You were going to tell your dad whether Arthur liked it or not, but you really wanted him by your side when you did. You understood his reluctance; recently, Hosea had been vocalising his displeasure at you being in the gang, rather than leading a ‘proper’ life, more frequently. And Dutch had been so angry when Sean, after a few whiskeys, had pulled you onto his lap and joked about wanting to ‘get to know you better’.

“Dammit, (Y/N), how many times! I know that! It’s just…..I……. they…..” His anger subsided as his voice trailed off. 

“Arthur, sweetheart, it’s okay to be scared. Of their reaction, of the future, of everything.” 

Arthur finally stopped pacing around his tent, though you weren’t sure that it really counted as pacing when he cleared the length of it in 2 or 3 strides.

“Darlin’, you’re right. You’re always right” he said as he leaned against the wagon that supported the tent. Rubbing the back of his neck, he gave you that cute one-sided smile that always made your heart melt. “Best I tell ‘em alone I reckon. That way, if they ain’t happy, it’ll be me that gets the heat.”

“You sure Arthur?” You stood up, glancing around before quickly, delicately, kissing him. 

“Yeh darlin’. I’ve antagonized Hosea and Dutch plenty before, ain’t got me killed yet. It’ll be okay, I promise.” 

Arthur gently kissed you on the forehead before setting off towards Dutch’s tent. You smiled, watching him go, before quickly going to help the others with the chores. Anything to keep your mind busy. 

———

Arthur had a plan. He’d been thinking about it for a while, but it had only been formed in those last few moments in his tent, and he was praying that Hosea and Dutch didn’t mess up the first part by not being able to see the relationship for what it was. But, while he was worried, he knew that he would fight anyone and anything he had to keep you by his side. Taking a deep breath, relieved to see Hosea and Dutch were already alone, he stepped into Dutch’s tent and closed the flap.

——–

Arthur had been gone a while, and your feelings about this were mixed. On the one hand, you hadn’t heard any yelling, no shots, and you were pretty sure he hadn’t been chased out of the camp. On the other hand, how long a conversation did this need to be?! You wished you’d gone with him. 

You were alone, hanging the last of the washing on the trees at the edge of camp; everyone seemed to be gathering around the fire, so it looked like it was that time in the evening where you got to relax and unwind. You just hoped that, this evening, maybe you could curl up to Arthur while Javier sang. 

You’d just finished hanging the last of the dresses up when Arthur finally appeared by your side. You turned towards him, a mixture of fear and excitement welling up inside you. Your face fell when you saw his frown.

“(Y/N), I’m so sorry. We’ve got a problem. You need to come talk to ‘em.” You’d never seen him look so serious.

“Arthur, sweetheart…..what happened?” You could feel tears uncharacteristically welling up at the corner of your eyes.

“I’ll explain soon darlin’. But we need to go to them now.” 

You could have sworn the whole camp was staring at you as you and Arthur walked hand in hand to Dutch’s tent. You were sniffing, barely holding it together; but as you approached, you started to feel angry. How dare they object? They had no right to, you were a person with your own opinions.

As the tent flap opened, you stormed in, ready to give your Dad and Dutch your full wrath. You got to the centre of the tent before realising that no-one was in there. The tent was filled with soft music from Dutch’s phonograph, and as you looked you realised that every surface was covered with candles. You turned, ready to ask Arthur what the hell was going on, only to see him on one knee in front of you. 

Arthur reached into his pocket and slowly brought out the ring. He’d been carrying it around for weeks; he’d had one of the Jewellers in Saint-Denis attach a sliver of the meteorite he found onto a delicate platinum band that he’d bought from them. 

He reached out, taking one of your hands in his. Your free hand went to your mouth; of all the scenarios you’d run through your head in the hours you’d been separated, this was not one that had even occurred to you. 

“Darlin’, I’ve been actin’ like a fool. I never should have waited this long to tell the others, and I certainly shouldn’t have waited this long to ask you. Ever since that first kiss, as you lay by my side on the plain, staring up at the stars, I knew I wanted…needed….you by my side forever. You’re my shootin’ star darlin’.”

You could feel the tears rising again as you kept your hand pressed to your mouth, still slightly unable to process what was happening.

“Darlin’, will you be my wife?” 

With that, you burst into tears. You weren’t really sure why; you’d been on such a roller-coaster of emotion in the last few hours, you couldn’t help yourself. 

“Errr….darlin’…. the suspense is killin’ me.”

“YES Arthur, a thousand times yes” you practically yelled as you finally pulled yourself together and launched at him, arms around his neck, hugging him tightly.

Arthur stood up, gently lifting you in his thick arms, as you kissed hard. Grinning like a man possessed, he gently slipped the ring on your finger and took your hand. 

“Come on then, we best be havin’ some dinner.” He winked as he lifted the tent flap and led you outside. 

You left the tent, staring at the beutiful ring on your finger, then froze as you were met with cheers and whoops. Everyone, including Hosea and Dutch, were gathered around the front of Dutch’s tent, drinks in hand. Arthur moved behind you, wrapping his arms around you and resting them on your stomach. 

“See darlin’, I told you it would be okay” he leaned down and whispered in your ear. 

Your dad and Dutch were the first to come to speak to you. 

“Well I guess you’re definitely not returning to that other life or yours now eh, Y/N?” Dutch chuckled as he patted your arm. 

“I wasn’t planning on going anywhere Dutch, but yeh I guess this is a pretty good reason to stay” you laughed, as Arthur gently squeezed you into his chest. 

“My precious daughter, you’ve made an old man very happy” Hosea said as he stepped forward and hugged you and Arthur. “And you, my boy, thank you for asking my permission. It was a nice touch”. 

You half turned, so you could look up at Arthur. “You did what?” 

Arthur quickly broke your gaze, grinning as he looked up and away.

“I warned you Arthur, I warned you!” Dutch laughed. “You know perfectly well she’s her own woman, not Hosea’s to give away!”

You jokingly elbowed Arthur in the ribs, mock scowling at him.

“Dammit, what’ve got myself into” he said, smiling, as he kissed your ear, gently squeezing you tight again.

“Wait, what would you have done if I had said no?” you asked.

“Well, either way I needed a drink, so I guess…. not much different! Would’ve killed the mood a bit though.” You chuckled, and turned to face him. As you did so, a familiar voice rang out across the gathering….

“Ladies and Gentlemen, I do believe we are celebrating! Who wants champagne?!”

“Where in the hell did Trelawny come from?!” Arthur exclaimed, frowning. 

“It’s a party sweetheart, of course he’s going to appear. It’s his version of a summoning!” Laughing, you and Arthur moved to relax and celebrate with the others. This life was unconventional, it was hard, but with family old and new at your side, you had never felt more at home.  

[squidproquoclarice]

In one of the Jake missions, he states that it’s hard for him in the snow but Sadie’s much used to it because she grew up in the mountains.

I heard about that one.  And much as I love to integrate as much as I can of what’s said and indicated in-game into a comprehensive narrative, there’s gonna be blips that make no Goddamn sense that clearly the writers didn’t think through.  It’s understandable.  I’m hyperfocused on the details of a handful of canon chars and relationships.  They’re writing such a huge volume for so many chars and relationships that they can’t easily catch everything.For example, Arthur and Mary can’t both have an intense youthful relationship and not have seen each other in a long, long, long time since they were barely more than kids to the point that Mary’s amazed at seeing a fully grown and fully filled out Arthur, and have Abigail, who’s been in the gang 5 years, claim to remember Arthur bringing Mary to camp (unchaperoned, with an overbearing AF father?) and playing dominoes.  Something’s gotta give.  And so sometimes you have to use discretion and chuck occasional tidbits of info that just don’t fit into the most sensible narrative in a way that makes any sense.  The youthful romance makes a lot more sense for both Arthur and Mary, and how they are with each other, than them being together when Arthur was 32 (post-Isaac, no less).It’s also like the “Dutch was born in 1858″ from RDR1.  Makes zero sense now given Arthur’s age and their stated dynamic.  Can’t make it work sensibly.  Even R* retconned that one themselves by upping Dutch’s indicated age in RDR2, and their most recent take on it makes it sound like they bumped it even further by indicating Hosea and Dutch are roughly of similar age, met in their twenties sometime prior to 1877, so they’re likely both in their very late 40′s/early 50s now.  Dutch just aged more slowly, it seems.  Good genes and lack of whatever terminal lung disease Hosea has.For an example of shaping the narrative to fit new evidence: Jake’s char design in RDO seems a bit older than I thought from the very small and low-res wedding pic in RDR2.  So I’ve adjusted things to have him more like 5 years older than Sadie now, not 1 as I’d HC’d.  But that actually still works and is a change I can make with some minor tweaks to a few things I’d written about their mutual childhood.Sadie’s accent is a lot like West Texan, which is why I went with her and Jake having New Austin origins, long before Jake had a speaking role and I heard his accent too.  (Jake’s being slightly more muted makes sense with my existing backstory if he left Pennsylvania at age 6 and Sadie did at age 1.)  It’s not an Appalachian twang.  There are no mountainous regions in the US that produce that accent.  Other characters in western Ambarino and northern West Elizabeth don’t have that accent either.  So I’m going with the preponderance of listening to hours and hours of Sadie’s consistent accent and speech as a char vision that Alex chose for her, and associating that with a real-world accent to choose her background, over a single offhand mention that really doesn’t fit what’s established.I try to make everything I can work, but sometimes you just gotta ignore a few illogical outliers, fam.