#low honour arthur | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ak319 · 27 days ago

Text

Dark Arthur Morgan x sis reader

Part III

!!Warnings: Not incest, strictly platonic, abuse, restrictions // I don't condone such behaviour +Arthur is in his 20's

Part II

You wrapped the scarf tightly around your neck, partly to shield against the cold and partly to hide your identity. In a town like Strawberry, everyone knew everyone’s business, and Arthur’s threat still rang in your ears,

"Because I have eyes and ears everywhere."

At least you knew he wasn’t in town today. He’d made sure you knew that before leaving: “I’ll be back in the evening, probably 6. Don’t think about doing something funny.” He’d locked the door from the outside as he always did, instructing you to secure it from the inside once he left.

Jumping the fence wasn’t hard.

As you approached the station, your heart hammered in your chest. What do you even say when you enter there?

Would they even let you in? Would they laugh in your face?

How will your father be, and how will he react when he sees you?

You took a deep breath and entered the station after a hesitant knock, relieved to find only one man seated at a desk. No crowd. Just you and him.

“Um---Hi.”

The officer, with a weathered look on his face, glanced up at you, his expression clearly saying, 'state your business and leave.'

“Yes, missy?” he drawled. Your eyes flickered to the interior, taking in the few cells on this floor, all empty.

You swallowed hard. “Um--my fath--I want to meet a man--Lyle Morgan. Is he here?”

"There is no one by the name of Lyle Morgan here. We got a Landon though. In the basement."

"A-are you sure? He was arrested... six days ago..." The officer grunted in annoyance and pulled out a register, opening it on the desk in front of you.

"Look. No one by the name of Lyle Morgan, missy. Just Landon." He was right... Lyle wasn't on the list. Your anxiety spiked, and before you could respond, another officer entered, probably a senior, and halted in surprise upon seeing you.

"What's this young lady want, Finn?" The second officer assessed you from head to toe, clearly not accustomed to having many female visitors in the cells.

"Askin' for some Lyle Morgan, boss." Finn leaned back in his chair, shutting the register with a snap.

"Lyle... Morgan. Mhm." The taller man pondered as he sauntered behind you toward the poster board. "What's your name?" He snatched a paper from the board, but before answering your question, he asked you another one, making you more impatient by the second.

"(Y/N).."

"What's he to you, though?"

"An uncle of mine..."

"You are his daughter, ain't you?"

You gulped, clutching your coat at your stomach defensively. "Now, now, no need to be scared, darlin'. I’m actually surprised someone came to at least ask about him from here."

"Well, where is he??" you pressed, desperation creeping into your voice.

He sighed and handed you the paper, making you frown in shock and confusion. "He was involved in a robbery of a caravan along with his partner. What they didn't know was that the caravan was armed--not just a simple family. He was shot brutally and didn't make it. As for his partner, he fled..."

It was as if the whole world around you grew distant... like you were the only one existing, trapped with the words he said, reverberating in your head like clockwork.

“Didn't make it.”

“He didn't make it.”

"No... this can't be true--I--no!" You shook your head, the paper crumpling in your fist. "HE'S HERE! Somewhere! This can't be true! NO! NO!" You cannot be an orphan, right? You can't lose him too.

The officers, who clearly expected this outburst, were initially unwilling to entertain you further. But seeing a young woman cry seemed to soften their stance. The senior, whose name was Hayes, guided you to a quiet corner and handed you a glass of water, urging you to calm down. He had a daughter, and seeing you like this struck a chord with him.

"Look, um, (Y/n), right? These kinds of things... they can't be avoided when people like your father get involved in such... jobs. There’s always a high risk. I've had been trying to catch him again, red-handed, but with his age and how sloppy he’d gotten with all the drinking, he dug his own grave this time... I am sorry..." You stayed silent, clutching your head, a storm of emotions and thoughts swirling around.

"Who told you he was here, though? And honestly, it’s not safe to come to station alone, you know."

You groaned in frustration, that being the least of your worries at the moment. "Well excuse me, because I just found out my father has died , AND I WOULDN'T HAVE KNOWN IF I HADN'T COME HERE!"

You couldn’t believe it, Arthur lied to you... did he lie to you? Was he ever gonna tell you even?

"I’m sorry. Look, what happened was that we found his body further away from Strawberry, and I identified him instantly. I knew that Arthur was his son, so I took him to the other town’s station where his body was. He insisted on burying him there and being done with it, so we did."

You sniffled, your voice barely a whisper. "So I can’t even see his... body?"

"I’m afraid not."

That made your blood boil. "Wh----Is Arthur your friend or something?"

Hayes nearly snorted but held back. "Absolutely not, but he’s been in a cell for petty crimes before. Still, he's done plenty of bounty work too. Pretty good at it, I would even say but I’m still hoping to catch him one day too, right, Finn?"

The lazy officer’s chuckle echoed through the station, making you feel even more suffocated. "I-I need to go and... please don't tell anyone... I came here."

"Sure, missy. Sorry for your loss, again." Without another word, you stumbled out of the station. The warmth of the sun did nothing to soothe you on that windy day. Your gut twisted, your mind numb. You... felt alone. Your mum's gone. Your dad's gone, and... somehow your brother is gone too.

Somehow, you managed the strength to walk back home, but midway you heard a voice.

"Hey, (Y/N)...?" No, it can't be. You kept walking, but the person suddenly jumped in front of you.

"You are (Y/N). I was right. You grew few inches from the last time I saw you. Everything alright? Why were you at the station? Are you crying?"

"None of your business, Sean." This annoying member of that stupid gang. He's really testing your patience right now. His voice kept ringing behind you as he followed. "It is actually my business, as my duty is kind of to keep an eye on things around here as per Arthur's orders. And y'know Arthur won't be happy to know that his baby sis' was at the station."

You turned around, grief-stricken and furious.

"SO?! You’re gonna run to him, huh?! Be a little tattletale!?" You gave him a disgusted once-over. "Be my guest, as that seems like the only thing they keep you for."

He backed away, raising his hands, clearly offended. "Woah, woah. Easy there. I’m just doing what I’m asked to do-" But without hearing another word out of his mouth, you stormed off toward your house, leaving him dumbfounded. He was just doing what Arthur had asked him to do, and it was partly a coincidence that he saw you coming out of the station as he smoked on a bench. Judging by your state, it seemed like it was related to the Lyle incident that Hosea mentioned.

⋆⋆⋆

"I mean, I don't get why you're hesitating, boy." Arthur rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly as the two men rode side by side at a relaxed pace.

"Look, Arthur, I need you by my side. You’re a great addition, and you know it. Everyone knows it. Be practical. Strawberry doesn't offer much, but Blackwater has a lot to offer. I agree, Hosea agrees, and I want you to say yes too. Your reputation in Strawberry isn’t under the rug anymore, y'know. Being in the camp is safer, and like I said, you will make a great enforcer."

"I know, Dutch. It’s just..." How does he tell him that moving into the gang with you might not be ideal? God knows what kind of situations they get into, and the living environment there itself--constantly moving and the safety within the camp. He just cannot trust these people with you, no matter how loyal he is.

"I get it. You’re worried about the house, right? Well, Hosea is gonna stay back in Strawberry and take care of it, find a good buyer for it. You can trust him for that. And as for your sister, Arthur, come on, of course, I would welcome her with open arms! Just like I did with you. And Annabelle was telling me the other day that 'we need more women 'round here'. Well, she's right. I don't blame her, must be tired of seeing me." The raven-haired man let out a gruff chuckle.

"You think of me as your father, don’t you?"

"I--yes, Dutch." Arthur wasn't ashamed to admit that he had learned more from this man than his own father. Which kind of made him feel lucky and unlucky at the same time.

"Then why are you hesitating? We’re all a big family who takes care of each other. What I demand in return is only loyalty, boy. Nothin’ else. She will be like a daughter to me and Annabelle, rest assured."

Arthur nodded. "So, go home and think about it. Tomorrow, just go to Hosea, who is staying in Strawberry--you know where--and tell him your answer. He will take care of the rest."

With that, Dutch turned his mare and galloped in the direction of the new camp near Blackwater while Arthur trudged on toward Strawberry, his mind deep in thought. The silence was filled with the sound of hooves and crickets. Just then, he saw another rider approaching. Sean.

"Hey, Arthur."

"Hm. Hi. Dutch just went that way."

"Oh, before you go, partner, um..." Arthur sighed and turned his horse back a little. "What? Spit it out. I’m in a hurry."

"Well, I--your sister... I saw her coming out of the station. All puffy-eyed and... furious, even." Sean said, embarrassed as he recalled your insult, completely missing the look of fury on Arthur's face.

"Are you sure it was her?"

"Um, yeah. I even asked her, but she-" Without hearing another word, Arthur rode off, leaving Sean to wonder if he had done the right thing by telling him. But one thing was certain, both of you seemed determined not to listen to him.

⋆⋆⋆

As Arthur rode into the familiar surroundings of Strawberry, his heart raced, not just from the ride but from a simmering anger that had taken hold of him. The weight of Sean's words pressed heavily on his chest. He dismounted outside the small house he shared with you, the door creaking ominously as he pushed it open.

The moment he stepped inside, the air felt thick with tension. The scent of old wood and dust surrounded him. "Where the fuck are you, (Y/N)!?" he called out, his voice sharper than intended.

In the corner of the dimly lit room, you sat curled up on the worn couch, your face buried in your hands. The sight of you, vulnerable and hurting, ignited something fierce within him. He took a deep breath, but it did little to calm the storm brewing inside.

You looked up, startled. "...Arthur? You're home early..."

"Early?" he snapped, taking a step closer. "I just found out you were at the station! What the hell were you thinking? Didn't I tell you TO STAY PUT! HOW FUCKING DARE YOU GO THERE!"

You recoiled slightly, hurt flashing across your features. "I... had to find out about Dad. YOU LIED TO ME!"

Arthur's expression hardened. "I didn't lie. I was trying to protect you!"

"Protect me? By keeping me in the dark? You think I can't handle the truth?!" You shot back, rising to your feet, your eyes blazing with a mix of anger and hurt.

He ran a hand through his hair, frustration boiling over. "What do you expect me to do? You’re too young to deal with this kind of thing!"

You took a step forward, shaking with fury and sorrow. “I had to hear it from some officer!” you continued, voice trembling with emotion.

"You don’t get to shut me out just because it’s easier for you.”

Arthur felt his heart twist. You were right, and the realization stung. But admitting that felt like admitting defeat. “I didn’t want to bring you into this...mess,” he muttered, voice low as if he was scolding himself.

Arthur clenched his jaw, his anger surging anew as he stepped closer, gripping your arm tightly. “It’s not like his presence ever did anything. All of this ends now. We are going. Go pack your things. Right now.”

“G-going where? And don’t you dare say anything about Dad--”

“DON’T ARGUE WITH ME! JUST DO WHAT I FUCKING TELL YOU TO! I AM GONNA BE WANTED HERE SOONER OR LATER! We have to fuckin go.”

You stumbled back toward your bedroom door, shaking your head. “I know... it’s.--you’re talking about... Dutch, right? ABSOLUTELY NOT! I grew up in this house! Mum decorated every inch of it... it’s laden with their memories! I won’t--” You choked on your sobs, the weight of loss threatening to crush you.

“Oh, so you want to live here in this town, alone? You think I will leave you here, just like that?!” he shot back, his voice low and threatening.

“I will! And I can!” Your voice trembled with defiance. “But I won’t live with a bunch... of.... criminals. Never.”

“You won’t, huh?” Arthur paced the room, his anger radiating off him like heat from a fire. You watched him, praying for a glimpse of the brother you loved to surface through the fury. But when he spoke again, all hope shattered. “Then I’ll have to make you.”

⋆⋆⋆

The sudden presence of a familiar horse made Dutch look up from his book, and he ambled his way toward the stable. “Arthur, my boy! Didn’t expect you to make up your mind this soon--” Dutch’s jovial tone softened as he caught sight of you, standing behind Arthur. The shadows of the night cloaked both of you, the flickering light of the campfire casting a glow around your forms. “So this is our (Y/N), huh? Well, young lady, I am Dutch. Dutch Van der Linde. About the time I meet the younger Morgan.”

Dutch chuckled, though his mirth felt awkward as he sensed the tension radiating from Arthur’s pissed-off demeanor and your attempt to shrink away from the spotlight.

“Greet him,” Arthur commanded, shooting you a sharp look over his shoulder when you hesitated.

“It’s alright, Arthur-”

“Do it.” He growled even making Dutch a bit shocked.

“H-hi,” you managed, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Nice to meet you! No need to be afraid. We’re all a friendly bunch here. And you, by the way, are our youngest member, perhaps close to John. Speaking of, where is that rascal?....” Dutch’s attempt at levity fell flat as Arthur’s frustration seeped into the atmosphere, and he grabbed the bags from the saddle. Dutch still couldn’t see you properly, you kept your hair obscuring most of your face, casting shadows that hid your emotions.

“Dutch, is there a tent available? I need to put the... stuff in,” Arthur said, his voice tense.

“Oh, sure, sure. There’s one available. Come.” Dutch led you both to a tent and stopped, gesturing for you to enter.

“Um, make yourselves at home, and when you’re free, be sure to introduce her to Annabelle, Arthur. She’ll be happy.” Dutch’s cheerful tone faltered slightly as he glanced at you.

“Maybe tomorrow. She’s tired.”

That’s when Dutch caught a glimpse of the dark bruise on your left cheek, and understanding flickered across his face. “Um, sure. The food’s ready too, so don’t hesitate. Good night, then.” With that, he trudged off, leaving you alone with Arthur.

Once inside the tent, Arthur threw your belongings onto the bedroll with a force that sent a small cloud of dust into the air. “He’s the leader here. You gotta respect him. You hear me?”

You nodded, but the sting of Arthur’s words was sharp, mixing with the ache in your cheek. The tent felt too small, too close, and you could feel the anger emanating from Arthur like a storm threatening to break.

“Never question Dutch in front of the others. His word is law. If he gives an order, you follow it without hesitation."

Arthur’s gaze hardened slightly. “ Secondly, don't even think about wandering off. Get that imprinted in that head of yours. You won’t get far on your own anyway. This world out there… it’s brutal. You don’t know what’s waiting for you beyond these campfires. Trust me, it’s safer here, even with all the danger inside.”

You swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle over you.

“Next, keep your head down and do your part. We all pull our weight around here. You will cook, mend clothes, or help with the horses-whatever you can do to contribute. It’ll earn you respect and keep the others off your back, the women will guide you.”

“Lastly,” Arthur continued, his voice dropping even lower, “watch who you trust. There are good people here, but there are also those who’ll take advantage of your kindness. Don’t let anyone see you as a target. You have to be smart about it. I won't always be around here.”

You met his gaze, and asked shakily “I don’t want to be part of this , Arthur....please.” The only thing that was swirling in your mind was the fact that you had lost a sense of security, a home, no matter how empty it was, it was yours. Now, under the open sky, you felt lost. Empty. The whole situation just keeps getting worse and worse.

"Don't test me. I think I made it pretty clear back there. This is our family now, so accept it. And if I find you running...you know what happens, don't you?"

You curled your knees and backed away in the cot. "That's what I thought. Now, unpack or whatever. This is your tent for the night. I'll go bring the food."

He left you to dwell on your misery, once again. Is this... real? Is this your life now? The weight of your circumstances pressed down on your chest, making it hard to breathe and, your body aching due to the bruises. Would your mother be happy seeing you in this condition? The memories of her warmth, her laughter, suffocated by the harsh reality of your new life. Your hands shook as you pressed your palms against your eyes, trying to stifle the tears that threatened to spill.

⋆⋆⋆

2 weeks later

"Arthur accept it or not. Your sister sure knows how to make good coffee." Hosea patted the younger man's back as he sat on the crate beside him who only scoffed softly in response.

"Where were you though?"

"Just took John , for fishin'."

"You uh...both settling in alright then I assume?"

"I'd say, yes."

Hosea hummed, the sound almost comforting as he set the mug down. "Y’know, be soft on her. She has faced a major change in life with all the Lyle and... you know what I’m talking about. She rarely speaks to us, always doing chores, and you're the only family she has." The gentle reminder hung in the air, a stark contrast to Arthur's darker demeanor. You kind of reminded Hosea of his wife, Bessie, the way you carried yourself suggested a deep-rooted softness that clashed with the rough life you now found yourself in.

"Being soft is what has made her like this!" Arthur snapped, annoyance creeping into his tone. "And don’t tell me how to handle things."

Hosea rolled his eyes, unfazed by Arthur's irritation. "I’m just saying, you should consider how she feels. You’re not just a brother, you’re her only lifeline in this Godforsaken place."

Before Arthur could respond, he spotted you in the wagon, your focus on Annabelle as she chopped veggies, laughter spilling from her as you shared a light moment. The sight struck him with an unexpected pang of guilt but he brushed it off.

"Bring coffee for me, (Y/N)!" Arthur called out, his tone more commanding than he intended.

You instantly got up to fulfil the task, moving with a quiet determination that made your brother’s heart soften, if only for a moment. As you hurried to the campfire to refill the pot, Hosea turned to Arthur, a knowing look in his eyes.

"She’s trying, Arthur. You just need to give her a little more understanding, or she might just slip away from you," he advised gently, knowing that sometimes, Arthur’s tough love could push you further into your shell.

Arthur grunted almost mockingly, "The fuck you mean, slip away? She ain't a fish. She knows better than that." Hosea didn't miss the slight threat in Arthur's words which made him shake his head at Arthur's stubbornness.

As you returned with the steaming cup of coffee, the warmth radiating from the mug was a small comfort against the chill of the morning air. You looked between the two men, sensing the weight of the conversation.

"Here...." you said, handing him the cup, your eyes darting between them, seeking an understanding you felt was just out of reach.

“Hm. Maybe next time don't make me ask?” he muttered, taking the cup from your hands, Arthur watched you with a mixture of protective instinct and frustration due to his tiredness.

As the night deepened, the camp's laughter echoed in the background, but you felt like an outsider peering into this new world. The memories of home weighed heavily on your heart, even with Arthur’s watchful gaze, maybe you could carve out a new existence, and accept all of this just so it doesn't feel like a punishment.

𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙴𝚗𝚍

(AN: So, the main story has ended but if you want me to write a specific platonic scenario inspired by this story or even in general, be free to ask and I'll hopefully write it as I am a sucker for platonic fics >.<. Peace ‎♡‧₊)

78 notes · View notes