#now arthur morgan is my new best friend

[evelina-maar]

Arthur and Roman Reins after another successful day of flower picking 🥀

[howlett-n-morgan]

Take Me Home

4. John Fucking Marston

Arthur Morgan x Texas Red!Reader

A/n: GUYS I GRADUATED MY FROM MY COURSE! i give you this chapter as a token of my celebration... now I just have to make sure I don't have any models fall off the runway in my line up lmao

Summary: The newest arrival makes his way into camp, and inadvertently becomes the reason that chaos begins to spread. Luckily, his new uncle Arthur is there to carry the woes on his broad shoulders.

Warnings: mild swearing, canon typical violence, birth?? mentions of past death and Arthur remembering his deadbeat dad days. drinking, mild alcohol abuse?? also Hosea is a real one we love Hosea

WC: 4.5k

“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?”  “She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.” “But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he was the one who asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”

A week after the heist, Arthur’s shoulder was feeling better… but his head was hurting like hell. 

In fact, on this specific night, nearly everyone’s head was throbbing on account of the wails and cries of terrible pain coming from the edge of camp. 

Abigail had gone into labor around five hours ago, and the little baby had still not come into the world yet. As of right now, the men were huddled close to the fire, passing around a fresh bottle of whiskey in attempts to pass out so they could get some sleep. Meanwhile, the women were rushing to and fro about the camp, working their asses off to bring a new life to the gang. 

You figured it would help you bond with the boys more if you sat with them, moaning and groaning about the noise… but you’d much rather be helping, making sure nothing went wrong in the tumultuous process of birth. 

It wasn’t until close to one in the morning that a tiny baby boy was born, strong as ever, with lungs so powerful they could blow a lark out of a tree. His cries replaced Abigails, but after all that time, everyone was pleased to know the delivery was over, and both parties were healthy and sound. 

The men did eventually pass out, all except two. 

Arthur and John were up till the crack of dawn arguing, and it didn’t look good from an outside perspective. 

You were about to take back towards your tent when you came across them, hurriedly getting out of their line of sight so you could listen without suspicion. You knew you had no right to eavesdrop, but with everything you’ve heard from Abigail concerning John, you were bursting with curiosity in a way that turned your stomach. 

“I don’t see why I need to be convinced otherwise,” John ripped into his dearest friend, and even from behind a wall of tented fabric, you could imagine the look on his face. 

“You’re makin’ a mistake right now, and you ain’t gonna see it until it’s too late.”

“How would you know? S’not like you did any better,” the tone of his voice was bitter, almost. John caught himself, taking a step back and breathing more evenly after his fit of anger. “I didn’t mean that, Arthur… but you oughta know where my head’s at.”

Arthur was silent, and you wished more than anything you could see the look on his face to determine how Marston had gotten to him. Was he saddened or angry? Maybe even confused? You didn’t know, but you didn’t have long to dwell on it. 

“You listen here, boy,” Arthur’s voice sounded threatening, intimidating. It was perhaps the scariest you’ve heard him speak. “You ain’t got no idea what’s comin’ to you if you leave. There will be no place in hell you’ll be able to hide from the decision you’re about to make. It’ll follow you the rest of your days, and haunt you when you’re dead, you understand me?”

John didn’t speak, didn’t answer or even mumble an excuse, he just walked away. He walked towards Abigail’s tent, ducking his head under and closing the front panel. You stood there stunned, afraid to move… but then Arthur came up around the backside of the area and scared the shit out of you. 

“You hear all that?” He asked, a slanted look in his eyes and a distaste for you in his tone. It might be the remnants from his past conversation, but you hate the way it sounds. 

“Arthur,” you caught your breath from the fright he gave you just in time to mumble out an apology. “I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t be listenin’, but Abigail’s been telling me things and I just…”

He managed to huff out one silent breath of a laugh, shaking his head. 

“Don’t be fretin’ on my account, I ain’t mad at you.” 

You sighed in relief, stepping closer to him now that you didn’t feel so burdened. 

“I don’t know him very well, but what I’ve seen… he doesn’t know his head from his ass. Is he really gonna leave?”

“I don’t know,” he started, crossing his arms and letting out a small yawn. He’s just as tired as you are. “I think I just bought a few days, maybe more, but who knows.”

“You think he can change his mind?” You relaxed your demeanor in front of him, but kept your head on a swivel just in case

He was so tired, you felt bad for keeping him awake, but you figured these thoughts were weighing heavy on him, and it might be good to get it off his chest. “He’s far too stubborn to do it on his own. We’d all have to raise hell for him to think badly of his own choices.”

You frowned, turning towards the tent of the new, young family… There were already so many problems in their unit. 

“Poor Abigail.” 

She’d be alone, and with a child to take care of. And meanwhile John would be scott free and having the time of his life.

“She’ll be alright, her and the boy. I’ll make sure of it,” he nodded towards where you were staring. “Around the time he started acting up, I told her I’d marry her, be the kid’s father if she wanted me to.”

Your head snapped around to him, and you processed his words. Abigail told you about part of his offer, because you’d given her the same one, sans one detail…

“You’re gonna marry her?” 

“Only if she wants me to, if John leaves.”

Good to know… but not really. It looks to you like John is pretty set in his ways, even if he ends up staying through the week, or even more. 

You nodded to him, but you hated the notion that he could already be promised to another person, even if you had absolutely no plans on pursuing him yourself. It was a small little envious monster that crawled in the pit of your stomach, and for a split second, you felt yourself resenting Abigail, who thus far, had become your closest friend after Arthur. 

“I actually offered the same,” you laughed, shaking your head and kicking your boot into the ground. “Not that it would last, but I just wanted her to know I was willing to help.”

“The whole gang chips in here and there, bein’ a family and whatnot… She’ll never go without help,” he assured, his posture becoming heavier with each minute passing. 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat and stretched your arms out, faking a massive yawn that looked real enough to pass you off. “It’s probably time we all turn in, huh?” 

For some reason he seemed vaguely sad for the interaction to be over. 

“Just about… I’ll catch you later, then,” he waved you off, heading back to his wagon and you to your tent. Even though they were relatively close, the entry points were on opposite sides.

You fell back into your cot with a heavy exhale. It’s been a long night, and with a crying baby in the camp, it’s looking to be a long next few months. 

-

The next few days were wonderful, despite the ill attitudes of a few grumbly men, Arthur not included. 

Dutch has been going on and on since the birth of the baby that the newest member should be given a worthy name. You assume he suggested his own namesake a few times, but since he’s been nothing but playful about the whole thing, you know he isn’t too bitter when they do finally settle on a name. 

Abigail picked it out, and you understand why. 

John Marston Jr, or as the two have taken to calling him already, Jack. 

You were surprised to see that waking up in the late afternoon the day of the birth, John was being… really different. He was putting in effort to help Abigail, he was making sure the others knew of all the information as it came, and most importantly, he was being positive about the whole situation. You suppose Arthur did knock some sense into him, and it was evident in how he was carrying himself. 

You weren’t sure how long it would last, but you felt relieved. Not only for Abigail, but selfishly, for yourself. If John sticks around and pulls his weight, Arthur doesn’t need to be tied down to a family. Not that he would ever see it that way, but still. 

You didn’t know where you stood with Arthur. He was a dear friend, you knew you could say that by now. You think that maybe the playful banter between you holds more than just friendship, but you can’t be sure, and you’re too damn chicken to test the waters. And obviously, a plain and simple conversation is entirely out of the question, because of ridiculous reasons you don’t care to list off. 

Maybe you’ll never know, and you’ll always be playing the game of ‘will we, won’t we’, unable to come to a sound conclusion. You think you’d be well enough with that, even if you never settle down with anyone. 

It’s a terrible absolute, and you should have never decided on it, but you think that being open ended and in this endless cycle of banter with Arthur is better than being in a committed relationship with anyone else. It makes the one on one interactions with him that much sweeter, though. Like today, when it was both your turns to watch baby Jack. The others were working on something in the town, and Abigail and some of the women were napping, having taken care of him through the night.

“He might be hungry,” you suggested, laughing at Arthur’s attempt to sooth the wailing infant. 

“I get hungry too, y’never see me cryin’ about it,” he was joking, clearly. He shook his head and reached for the glass bottle Miss Grimshaw had prepared this morning. 

Jack fed on the bottle and stopped crying, and in the aftermath, you paused to watch the scene before you. A big, gruff outlaw, with his hair tousled and shirt out of place from tiny hands fisting at it, and relaxed in his arms, a tiny baby being bottle fed. It was such a contradictory picture, but one you couldn’t tear your eyes away from. 

“Cute,” you mumbled, nearly under your breath, but he heard you. 

“He’s somethin’,” he chuckled, a small smile on his face when mentioning the boy he held so close. Arthur was many things, but amongst them was gentle. He was a kind creature by nature, that had only been hardened by experience, and these soft moments let his internal goodness show. 

“I meant you,” you teased, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head. He didn’t even know how to respond for a second. 

“I’m quite the opposite, but I’ll thank you for the thought.”

As tough as he was, and as rightfully boastful over his skill with a weapon or with his bare hands, he seemed to negate himself often. His intelligence, his artistic talent, his looks, even his presence during group gatherings. It saddened you, and you didn’t even know the root of his struggle.

“Why you always doin’ that?” 

“Doin’ what?” he asked, his head tilted to the side and a narrow look on his face. 

“Bein’ mean to yourself…” you answered, sitting down on the other end of the log he was relaxing against. 

What a treat it would be for Arthur to see himself through your eyes. He’d never think poorly of himself again. 

“M’not, just the truth.” 

And that was even sadder. Who on earth ever convinced this man that he wasn’t good enough? Whoever it was, you’d like them to be on the other side of your pistol’s barrel. 

You huffed out a sigh, leaning forward so he didn’t have to strain his neck to look back at you. 

“Y’know it’s too damn bad, I happen to think you’re a pretty decent person. I pity anyone who thinks otherwise,” you spoke firmly, laying it on thick so that maybe he can come to terms with believing you. 

“Is that so?” 

“Mhm, very much so…”

He looked back down at Jack, trying to distract himself from your complimentary onslaught. He didn’t much care for compliments, so he wasn’t even sure how to receive them, if he accepted them at all. He has a very strong belief system, and it’s constantly just a mantra of things like ‘I am a bad man, I do bad things, I am dangerous, I am getting old, I am ugly,’ and so on. He didn’t understand how much he had hurt himself by forming those beliefs in the first place. 

You sat with him in silence for a few minutes, just watching Jack finish the bottle and settle into Arthur’s arm for a nap. He slept a lot for someone that cries through the night. Hearing the soft cries in the night isn’t peaceful, but it’s better than the anxiety and feeling of dread his cries brought you the first day, when John was set on leaving. 

You keep replaying a moment from that morning in your head, when the sun was just over the ridge, and you were heading to your tent… 

“Arthur?” 

“Yeah?” He turned his head again.

“The day he was born… that argument between you and John,” you wanted to make sure you phrased this correctly, unsure if it was a sensitive topic. “He’d apologized for sayin’ something… Sayin’ that you didn’t do any better? What was he talkin’ about?” 

Arthur took a deep inhale and shifted around in his seat, the ground beneath him feeling like it could cave in just at your words. John had struck deep with what he’d said, but having to rehash it, and with you… it wasn’t a thing he’d ever do for fun, to put it nicely. 

“I mean, him talkin’ about leaving Abigail, and you givin’ her your offer… You’re already better than he is.”

“I wasn’t always,” he shook his head. “Holdin’ him like this, it makes me remember just how terrible I am.”

You sank down from the log and scooted closer to him. No one in camp was around to see, so you didn’t bother looking. His eyes got foggy without even going into detail, so you didn’t push… but he seemed to open up on his own. 

“I had a boy when I was John’s age. Same situation n’ all,” he shook his head, trying to keep his sights on the ground in front of him. The longer he held Jack, the worse this feeling got, but he knew it wouldn’t ever go away, not really. Not with a new and constant reminder of his past. “His momma and I, we didn’t get on too well, so I kept with the gang. Didn’t ever come around except when we passed through that town. Could count on two hands the times I saw my own son…”

You didn’t know what to make of this. He has a son? Does he keep contact with him? You’re unsure if you want to know all the details, because hearing it as is, sounds messy. 

“Where does he live?” 

You had no idea that you’d just asked the worst question in response… but how else were you supposed to know? This was the first you’d heard of Arthur’s son. 

“He uh… he died, about three years ago,” Arthur shook his head, swallowing back the lump in his throat, though his teary eyes persisted. “They both did... I came back one day, and found two crosses in the yard. I asked around, townsfolk said a group of robbers came through and raided several homes.”

“Arthur…” you grabbed his arm gently, trying to convey your sympathy, and your sadness. 

“I knew it had been my fault. If I had been there, my son would be alive, his mother, too.” 

A cloud had rolled over the sun, and shrouded in a temporary shade of darkened light, the mood felt heavier than even his words could convey. This man and his layers, being peeled away before you… it was both touching, and terrible. You had no idea a man was capable of feeling so deeply, of being so open about his past and regrets. You’d never seen a man cry before. 

“Issac and Eliza were their names,” he finally looked at you, tears escaping his eyes at a rapid pace. He let them fall, somehow knowing you wouldn’t judge him for it. “And they aren’t here because of me.” 

You gently raised a hand and wiped his cheeks with your thumb, leaving your hand there for as long as he would let you. 

“I’m so sorry, Arthur…” 

Nothing you could say or do would help to heal his wounds, but you wanted to try. Wanted to be there for him, whatever that meant. You and him got on well. You were friends, but there was competition between you, all a part of your banter. You supposed you’d feel inclined to let him win in any circumstance from now on, just because you couldn’t bear to make him upset. Seeing him this way broke your heart, but it also empowered you in some way. To be more empathetic, and kind, and to not let your anger get the better of you. You’ve proven to him in the past that you were a hot head, no pun intended. You would have to be mindful of letting yourself fly off the hinge to him in the future. 

“Even if John doesn’t leave… I swear I’m gonna do right by this boy,” he let out, his voice trembling but his words were of certainty. 

You felt a tear roll down your own cheek, and did nothing to stop it. This moment, whatever it was, you wanted to feel it. Wanted to keep it buried within the depths of your soul. 

You’ve been on the run for four years now, and in those four years, you’ve been on your own, making some sort of fantasy world for yourself where death was just the thing at the end of a duel, and you never had to pay the toll of those losses. 

You’d not been living in reality, and coming to this gang, meeting Arthur… it must have been preordained. It must have been fate. He himself, day by day, was restoring your humanity, and your ability to feel something that wasn’t just a farce.

“Thank you for telling me,” you whispered, but being so close, he heard you clearly. 

He let out a huff that you suppose was meant to be a soft laugh. “You don’t just hear me, Red… you listen to me. I guess I’ll keep on tellin’ you things.”

And soon both your attentions were pulled back to Jack as he stirred slightly. 

You took a turn holding him while Arthur went to grab some food, and you found you rather liked this particular baby. He was a sweet little thing, not so bratty like the tiny cousins you grew up around. You can only hope he’ll stay this sweet as he grows older. 

-

A month had passed, and John was getting more angsty. 

Arthur was honestly surprised he had lasted this long. It seemed impossible that he stuck around, especially when he had to be the one to take a turn with the baby during the night. 

Fights had broken out with various members of the camp, mostly over John and his unwillingness to help anymore. Dutch had chewed him up and spit him out, and after that, John had made up his mind, for certain this time. 

“You ain’t leavin’, just sit down,” Arthur pulled him back by the shoulder, trying to stop him from packing up and saddling his horse.

“What makes you think I would stay with a bunch of folk who hate me?”

“We don’t hate you, you’re bein’ ridiculous. Sit down, we’ll talk about it.” Arthur tried to reach out for him again, but John pulled himself back and out of the way, two steps from the hitching post. “Boy, you’re not goin’ anywhere-”

“I’m leaving!” John burst out, taking Arthur by surprise. This wasn’t just another hissy fit or tantrum where he would eventually let it stew over. He was really gonna do it. “The kid ain’t mine, I counted back. She’s just try’na tie me down, Arthur... I feel for her, but I ain’t stayin.”

“Need I remind you of the price you’re gonna pay?” 

“She’ll be safe with you. The boy, too. I ain’t leavin’ them in incapable hands.”

“But you’re leaving them,” Arthur reasoned, trying his best to make any last effort to save what could have been, but he knew his found brother would not be changing his mind. His only thought at this point was to beg him to stay. If only because he asked. “Don’t do this. They need you, we need you.”

“You don’t need me, Arthur. You’re the better one, always were…” 

“C’mon now, you know that ain’t true. S’just another excuse,” he waved his arms around, trying to emphasize just how stupid it sounded. Yes, it’s all Arthur’s fault that John is leaving. 

John doesn’t even answer Arthur, he just turns heel and readies his horse, all while the older of the two stands by and ridicules him for what he’s about to do. All John can do is tune him out, and pretend he doesn’t hear the distant crying at the other edge of camp, where Susan is trying to console a tired and emotionally devastated Abigail. Their son sleeps in Tilly’s arms, oblivious to anything happening around him, but what’s to come will put a damper on his previously bright future. 

By the time John is on his horse, loaded up and ready to head out, Arthur grabs hold of his leg, yanking it back from the stirrup. He looks to his eyes one more time, to see if there’s any guilt, any resolve, anything that might show he knows what he’s doing is wrong… but he only sees annoyance and pride. Two things John Marston usually wore on his face. 

“If you leave this camp, you best never come back again, ya hear?” 

And for the first time that night, Arthur saw just a shred of fear in the younger man’s eyes. 

“I hear,” he nodded, the fear turning into sadness in this last moment. “It just ain’t worth it no more.”

And with that, he turned his horse, and left the camp. 

Arthur went storming through the camp after the interaction, needing to find himself a drink. 

-

You were angry and rightfully so, stomping back into camp like a bear hunting its prey. Walking up to the campfire, there were only a few left awake. Pearson and Hosea sat, hunched over and with half full whiskey bottles in their hands. Probably from the stolen stash, the brand was decent.

“Anyone seen Arthur?” You asked them both, knowing that at least Hosea could tell you. 

“He passed out ages ago,” He nodded towards his covered wagon near the trees and rocks separating your space. “John left camp tonight.”

“I know, I caught him outside the saloon,” you sat down by them, reaching out for either bottle they were willing to hand over. “Gimme some of that, will ya?”

And of course, drinking was the solution at the end of the day. 

After a while, Pearson dragged himself to bed, leaving you and Hosea to sit and stew by the fire, milling about your tumultuous thoughts. You should have known he’d ask for details of your run in with John. 

“I was out scouting today… realized I needed to go to town for a pair of socks, mine got holes too big for sewin’,” you began, gaze trapped on the fire, the alcohol making it harder to focus on anything else at once. “Came outside and found him hitchin’ his horse.”

“You were the one who approached him, then?” 

“I thought about just wavin’, I thought I’d be seein’ him back here… but then I looked at his saddle. He was packed up for the trek of a million miles,” you sighed, taking another big swig of the pricey whiskey in your hand. You would finish the bottle in no time if you kept up like this, trying to quench your raging thirst for something strong and potent.

“What did you say to him?” 

“Nothing really, not at first. Just asked how the day had been, how Abigail was. I haven’t been here since this morning. I guess they started fighting real bad after I left. Dutch tore into him, too,” you spoke heavily, suddenly the swigs you were slamming back were making you a bit less understandable. Hosea though, was easily able to listen, because after years of Arthur’s drunk slurring, and having to make out sentences between, he was practically an expert. “All I said was that he shouldn’t leave, because he’ll regret it.”

“And I suppose that didn’t help.”

“Nah, he just told me where to shove it. I think he’s scared… not of the kid, and not of Abigail. I think he doesn’t wanna end up like his father. Arthur’s told me something about it, but in my opinion, he’s trying to get out before the resentment turns to abuse n’ all that.”

“I reckon you're right. We all told him time and again he’d be a good father, but he’s stubborn as they come, and when his mind’s made up… there’s no stopping that boy.” Hosea shook his head once more, his sadness reflecting in the light of the fire. 

“I guess Arthur’s gonna marry Abigail, now…” you knew you were just trailing into your thoughts, and that while getting more drunk, you shouldn’t be saying them out loud… but you couldn’t help it. Selfishly, on your ride back to camp, this is all you thought about. 

“He offered, it’s up to Abigail to accept,” he said gently, raising his brows in thought as well. He doesn’t see it as a good match, but he thinks it’s honorable that Arthur would do such a thing. 

“I hope she doesn’t,” you murmured quietly, but it seems he still heard you. 

“What was that?” 

“Nothing, m’just gettin’ drunk.”

He chuckled under his breath, his side eye remaining on your features just a while longer before he stood up, patting you on the shoulder. 

“Don’t drink too much more. You’ll pass out before making the trip to your tent.”

And then he left you alone. With your thoughts and a bottle of whiskey in hand, who knows what more you could do in a situation like this. It was better to cut your losses and just turn in… so you did. 

Laying down on your cot, you expected sleep to take you. It should have, given how tired you were, but the single notion kept echoing in your head over and over…

Arthur Morgan isn’t mine, and he never was.

Tags: @photo1030 @sheepdogchick @snoopysshark @strvberrydoll @yyiikes @phantasyy @puffyhairedhipster @scorpio-echo

[tupznum]

They were "brothers"

Arthur Morgan X male read

《••••••••••••••••••♥︎•••••••••••••••》

Warnings: angst, suicide, Hurt No comfort, rushed, dyslexic author lol

"They were brothers in a past life" is what they would say about us and we agreed with them.

Me, m/n l/n and everyone's favorite Arthur Morgan joined the Van der Linde gang around the same time, him a month earlier.

We were around the same age, him fourteen, me just turning fifteen so naturally we became bast friends. Throughout the years we did everything together we never drifted apart even after Dutch start to visibly fever Arthur over me, I didn't really care.

In our teen years we were inseparable, whether Arthur went I went, whatever I did he did.

because we were so Inseparable Dutch had to deal with the constant nagging and bribing from us as we did everything in our power to stay together.

the older members of the gang had a kick out of this.

In our young adult years we were still inseparable with exceptions. We gave up on the nagging and bribery and we accepted that we will be separated at times. But if we were in the same area where one was the other was only a foot away.

During these years we start to get very comfortable with each other in a way that some considered too comfortable for friends, we didn't care if we saw each other's naked bodies, we bathed together regularly and changed in front of each other.

During these times we shared every thought that came to mind with each other from the hottest woman we saw that day to the more unsavory thoughts that came with our life choices.

Looking back I think this when I start to develop feelings that were unnatural....

into our prime years our relationship was smooth and strong as ever but my unnatural feelings start to take a toll on our relationship.

I would get moody or upset when a fine woman would put her hands on Arthur in an intimate way, I never knew why but now I know it was jealousy, Stone Cold jealousy the kind that ruins people.

One Day Dutch sent me on a solo mission to collect payments from a poor son of a bitch who owed him money in a town two days over, this gave me time to let off some steam and reflect on my seemingly unnatural feelings.

but I learned nothing. instead I decide to push those feelings deep down and pretend they never existed..

When I made it back to Camp two and a half days later I found Arthur head new company her name was Mary Linton

She was a fine young woman and was very clearly Sweeting on Arthur. the feeling of jealousy claude at my stomach whenever she got a little too close or was a little too flirtatious but I ignored it as best as I could.

it was not my business.

Not long after Mary showed up I distance myself from Arthur as the jealousy was killing me inside. That jealousy was soon replaced with longing and want. the closer the two got the stronger my feelings.

One night as I was getting ready for bed Arthur came into the tent with the biggest smile I ever saw on his face and he announce that he and Mary we're engaged . A big chunk of my heart died that night but after years of being an outlaw I learned to hide my feelings so instead of showing sadness I showed happiness and support.

After he left I cried myself to sleep that night.

It was the night before Mary's and Arthur's wedding and Arthur approached me at the fire and asked to have a drink with him and I agreed.

just like when we were teens We snuck into Pearson tent and stole a few bottles of moonshine from his stash and snuck out to the woods.

We found a big fallen tree and laid against it.

We talked and drink.

he questioned why I was so distant, and I decided to tell him the partial truth I said I was dealing with my own things at the moment and that I needed some time to myself to resolve them.

I was one and a half bottles in and Arthur two and a half I was exceptionally drunk. same could be said about Arthur.

I picked over at Arthur to see him looking at the stars and I couldn't help but let my emotions flow.

it was quite pathetic really a grown man with a half a bottle of moonshine crying his eyes out for seemingly no reason.

Once Arthur realize what was going on he tried his best to comfort me in a drunken Haze, he asked me what was wrong and he said that I could tell him anything but I couldn't find the words. instead I did something that even to this day I'm quite ashamed of doing...

I brought my hands up and grabbed Arthur's face and told them I was so sorry and proceed to kiss his lips. Part of me expected to be slapped punched even shot for what I did but surprisingly the kiss lasted. we only pulled away for air. Despite being drunk out of my mind I knew what I did was wrong and that what i just did will come with dire consequences. So I got the fuck out of there so fast Arthur didn't even have the time to react.

The last thing I heard that night is Arthur's raspy drunk voice calling out my name. I haven't seen him since then as I was too ashamed to show my face to him or the Gang.

I've had close calls with them a few times but I managed to invade them. I knew they were looking for me but I was hard to find. After a year or so they stopped looking as I would assume they either thought I died to the natives or was hung by the law.

I will never know if he remembered that night but it doesn't matter now as everything is coming to a end now.

This was the story that m/n wanted to share with whoever found his body hanging deep in the woods....

[cogneato-inc]

Arthur Morgan x TransMasc!Reader Headcanons

Recently made some Discoveries about myself and in entirely unrelated news found that there is a Severe Lack of Boy Kisser Arthur Morgan

I am now dedicating my life to fixing this issue-

NSFT near the end !

The way he finds out is probably some kind of life or death situation (because of course it is)-

You two are away from camp, on what was supposed to be an easy job - some stagecoach with lackluster security, and apparently quite a bit of cash on board

But of course you weren’t the only ones with your eye on it; a gunfight ensues and long story short you’re injured- bad enough that Arthur notices almost immediately

It’s just your luck that you were hit in the side, you’ll have to take your shirt off to treat it- and as much as you try to protest, begging Arthur to let you handle it alone, he’s insistent that No, you Cannot take a bullet out of your own side, you Goddamn Fool (he’s exaggerating a little, it just grazed you - but he’s so so scared of losing you, why are you being so stubborn ???)

And of course you’re absolutely terrified of how he’s going to react, what’s going to happen to you, will you have to run away ?

But y’all he barely pauses-

You’re a good man, one of his best friends and a hell of a shot - he’s not letting you bleed out just because he’s a little surprised

(+ he’s been all over the place and met all sorts of folks, it’s probably not even his first time knowing someone who’s trans-)

He doesn’t mention it in the moment - doesn’t want to put any more stress on you, or say the wrong thing

But he’s sure not to treat you any different while he’s patching you up, and doesn’t hesitate about your pronouns or name when he talks to you about the injury

Helps you hide anything you need to while you’re healing - if you don’t have a tent he’s offering his own, and snapping at anyone who questions it

When he does eventually approach you to talk about it, he makes sure you know that he doesn’t see you any differently, and that nothing’s changed now that he knows

(Okay he says nothing’s changed but he Absolutely starts calling you ‘boy’ a lot more often-)

‘Atta boy-‘ ‘Good eye, boy.’ ‘Nice shootin’ boy!’

He‘ll stop if you ask, he just wants to make it clear that he doesn’t see you as any less of a man-

If he notices you haven’t had a chance to take off your bindings in a while he’ll tell everyone you’re going hunting together and take you into town to get a bath and hotel room for the night so you can take a break. (He’s a total mother hen when it comes to making sure you’re taking care of yourself)

Arthur didn’t have the best childhood but he’s got a lot of good memories of going fishing with Dutch and Hosea, and he definitely got into all sorts of mischief when he was younger. Roughhousing with John, learning how to shoot, swimming in the creek, etc, etc- as soon as he realizes you probably didn’t get a chance to make memories like that he is On It

He’s always telling you stories about his childhood, and he definitely encourages you to try out whatever you may have missed

If you don’t know how to fish he’s teaching you, End Of

(He pushes you into the water and you end up wrestling him in with you- you both go back to camp soaked to the bone and grinning. Definitely got scolded about all of the mud on your clothes)

Him teaching you how to shave ??? The Proximity,, o ugh

Once you’re together he takes every opportunity to call you His Man <3 <3 <3

On the nsfw side of things,,,

This man has been thinking of you every night for Months and this changes Absolutely None Of That

Of course before he knew you were trans his fantasies were a little different,, anatomy wise-

But he’s still Fucking his Fist thinking of you every night (when he has the energy </3), For Sure

Draws you Naked (whether you’ve been together or not - he has a Great Imagination) and Prays to God you never go through his journal-

Definitely Ogles you while you do chores around camp - Cannot keep his eyes off you

He pretends to be busy with something else so he can watch you chop wood, his eyes drift to your ass every time you bend over to grab anything

He has to physically Look Away anytime you hook your thumbs into your pockets, or stretch, or rest your hands on your belt, or aim a rifle, or haul bales of hay around- it’s torture, replaying in his head on nights when he doesn’t pass out as soon as he lays down.

When you finally get together and find the time to get down and dirty, Absolutely expect some ‘Good Boy’s thrown out -

For one this man has a Massive Praise Kink, giving and receiving - we all know this

But he also wants to give some extra reassurance in the moment, that even fully exposed you’re still a man in his eyes

Him eating you out on his knees in an alley ???

Your back against the wall and one hand in his hair while the other covers your mouth because damn he is GOOD at this but you have to keep quiet-

(Your taste gets him so worked up, he’s absolutely touching himself while he does it - spills on the ground when you cum, his other hand gripping your hip to help you stay upright)

[margowritesthings]

Hey, Margo! 🩷

I’m sending the request according to your new post 🥺

I would like a friends to lovers trope. But here’s the thing: Could the female character (lil me) and Arthur actually had a relationship in the past (current relationship status is they broke up) and now they are falling for each other again (second chance)?

Of course I would love a Red Dead Redemption (Arthur Morgan) fanfic 🩷

The gender is female, and if you could make her ginger with brown eyes (like me) I would love it 🥺 And if Arthur calls her angel, even better 🩷🩷🩷

Feel free to add smut, fluff and anything you would like!

Thank you for tagging me! You know how much I love your writing 🩷

sweet angel hello! thank you for participating, i got so many ideas for your love story with our pretty cow boah

come celebrate 1k followers with me!

arthur morgan // second chance + friends to lovers

you two have been sweet on each other since the moment you met, the day you joined the gang. arthur was brave enough to ask you on a date after only a short three months of pining after you

he took you to the saloon, you beat him at poker, and in that moment he knew you were his soulmate. a forever love.

you were together for a few months, and it was that kind of love you only thought existed in the stories you read. it was celestial, ethereal. a wild burning flame extinguished far too quickly.

when he found out about isaac and eliza's deaths, arthur really struggled. he drank a lot and lost himself for a while.

you knew the best thing to do was to just be there for him, so you both decided he needed friendship right now.

"you're my best friend, arthur. that ain't ever gonna change."

but the feelings didn't just go away as easily as your plan relied on, that flame too furious to be extinguished by simple "logic"

you wanted to respect the space arthur asked for, and he never thought he was good enough to have you after letting you go the first time

unworthy of your love

if he couldn't protect isaac and eliza, how could he ever deserve you?

and thus ensued years of pining

the very best of friends, unable to stay away from each other while this silent love roared

you'd work jobs together, go hunting together, have midnight chats by the fire, save each other's asses from time to time

years went on like this, where everybody in the gang and their mamma would share glances and roll their eyes at the two fools who couldn't just admit they were made for each other

you were the first person arthur wanted to see whenever he got back from a job, the one he rode home to even if he never said it aloud

and as much as your heart ached a little every time you looked at him, you would have stayed like that forever if it meant getting to keep arthur in your life

until the day he left it

when he didn't come back from the 'chat' with the o'driscolls, you were out of your mind with worry

the thought of never seeing arthur again flipped a switch in your mind and you finally realised that this life stuck in limbo wasn't enough

you were sneaking out in the dead of night against dutch's orders when you saw him, beaten and bloody, riding home to you

it broke you, the relief washing over you like a wave that breaks the walls you've built as though they're nothing but paper

he practically falls off his horse, but you catch his weight and support him

you take him to your tent and patch him up, holding him and crying with him when you see what they did to arthur. your arthur.

he winces when he reaches up to push that stray rebellious hair out of your face, but the way the candlelight glows in his eyes has your own breath hitching in your throat

"i was so worried, arthur... i-i thought-"

"i know, angel, i know... i'm sorry...

but i'm here now

and i ain't ever leaving you again."

that nickname... from all those years ago when you first found eachother

whispered for the first time in a moan, you and him tangled together in sheets for the very first time

"goddamn... you're an angel, how'd a dirty sinner like me ever get so lucky?"

when you broke up, you never thought you'd hear it again

and yet here you are

the sweet name echoing in your ears as he kisses you, reuniting your lips after far too long apart

it's a desperate kiss, the kind that holds two lifetimes of context

like you're scared if either one lets go the moment will disappear

so you don't

you tangle your fingers in his hair, he cups your cheek, your bodies moulding together

being any closer would be impossible

"this is it, angel, you hear? no more messing around, this is it. this is us, cause i ain't letting you go."

"you better not, mister."

you’re both crying, breathing each other in, never wanting to let one another go

and you never do again

[socialfilter]

Red Dead Redemption 2 Characters as ABBA songs

- a 7am thought come to fruition by me, a deluded little guy

Arthur Morgan - The Winner Takes It All

The gods may throw the dice, their minds as cold ice, and someone way down here, loses someone dear.

John Marston - Name of the Game

If I trust in you, would you let me down? Would you laugh at me, if I said I care for you? Could you feel the same way too?

Lenny Summers - Take A Chance on Me

Gonna do my very best and it ain’t no lie. If you put me to the test, if you let me try.

Susan Grimshaw - Fernando

If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando.

Tilly Jackson - So Long

Tracy, Daisy, they might be crazy but I’ll never be your girl.

Mary-Beth Gaskill - Honey Honey

the way that you kiss goodnight, the way that you hold me tight.

Karen Jones - Chiquitita

you’ll be dancing once again, and the pain will end

Sean Maguire - Does Your Mother Know

Now you’re so cute, I like your style, and I know what you mean when you give me a flash of that smile.

Molly O’Shea - SOS

so when you’re near me darling, can’t you hear me? SOS

Dutch Van Der Linde - Angeleyes

and one day you’ll find he wears a disguise. don’t look too deep into those angel eyes.

Hosea Matthews - I Still Have Faith In You

do I have it in me? I believe it is in there.

Marion ‘Bill’ Williamson - Me and I

yes, I am to myself what jekyll must be to hyde

Micah Bell - On and On and On

keep on rockin’ baby till the night is gone

Javier Escuella - The Visitors

Voices growing louder, irritation building, and I’m close to faintin’- crackin’ up!

Charles Smith - When All Is Said And Done

It’s so strange, when you’re down and lying and on the floor. How you rise, shake your head, get up and ask for more.

Mary Linton - Knowing Me Knowing You

here is where the story ends, this is goodbye

Charlotte Balfour - Andante Andante

play me time and time again, make me strong

Jack Marston - I’ve Been Waiting For You

I love you, I adore you, I lay my life before you.

Abigail Roberts - Gimme! Gimme! Gimme!

Won’t somebody help me chase the shadows away?

Sadie Adler - Voulez-Vous

masters of the scene, we’ve done it all before and now we’re back to get some more

Josiah Trelawny - Eagle

And I dream I’m an eagle, I dream I can spread my wings and fly

Kieran Duffy - Suzy Hang-Around

Nobody wants you around here and that’s for sure. So get off our playground and stay away.

Rains Fall - Slipping Through My Fingers

Then when she’s gone, there’s that odd melancholy feeling and a sense of guilt I can’t deny.

Eagle Flies - Lay All Your Love On Me

Now everything is new, and all I’ve learned has overturned, I beg of you.

Reverend Swanson - I Have A Dream

I believe in angels, something good in everything I see

Bonus:

Arthur/Mary - My Love, My Life

you are still my love and my life, still my one and and only

Sadie/Abigail - One of Us

one of us is crying, one of us is lying in her lonely bed.

Arthur/Charles - Our Last Summer

living for the day, worries far away.

John/Abigail - Super Trouper

The sight of you will prove to me I’m still alive.

[immajustvibehere]

Spark (5/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

Chapter 5 summary: You get injured in a bar fight and quickly need someone's help. Arthur seems to be the only one available.

warnings: scars, wounds, needles, talk about abuse

link to my masterlist

first chapter, second chapter, third chapter, fourth chapter

3300 words, 17 minutes reading time

To say that Arthur and you had become best friends was a bit of a stretch, but your bickering had become teasing banter by now.

It didn't take long until the gang had settled in at Clemens’s Point. Two weeks after the move, a handful of you decided to head for the saloon. Since the initial phase of setting up camp and finding a new role to play in this part of the country had ended, most of you just wanted to unwind for the night. Sean and Lenny had gone ahead and most of you joked that you'd find them shit-faced by the time you'd arrive. And sure enough, as soon as Arthur, Micah, Bill, Karen and you entered the saloon, you saw the two boys giggling at a table with some women.

All of you were having a good time. Time passed quickly and the group split up after drinking a couple of rounds together. Arthur had gone upstairs to ‘waste some money’ (as Micah had mocked him) playing Blackjack, Karen left with some fella, and you were stuck with Sean, who was talking nonsense. After a couple more shots, the smell of sweat and strong whiskey stopped to bother you, you were in for a fun night. The later the hour, the fuller the saloon. The floor was covered with the red dust from the street and the mood improved tremendously when someone started to play the piano.

Arthur had downed a couple of bottles of beer, filling him with reckless courage. It was just enough to feel tipsy and be braver when it came to betting on the Blackjack table, not enough to be a complete fool but make somewhat decent decisions. The last time he had seen you and the rest of the company, you were at the bar, drinking and laughing. He didn't know that by now, you were there alone, fighting off man by man that dared to make crude advances towards you.

"Care for a dance, Miss?", the man was suddenly so close, you almost jumped. He reeked of alcohol and his shirt was stained with bits of food and drink.

"I'm good thanks", you replied briefly, an annoyed tone in your voice. He would run off as quickly as the others, you thought, but you were wrong.

"C'mon I ain't asking for much", suddenly his sweaty hand was on your arm and as he attempted to pull you closer to some free dancing floor in the middle of the saloon. You kicked him strong enough to loosen the grip. The heat had become stifling and though your judgement was clouded, you felt the tension in the air. The movements in the saloon, the coughs, the cigarette smoke... You were drunk, a bit too drunk for that sort of confrontation.

"Get your crusty hands off of me!", you yelled. And already, you had a small group forming around you. They knew that this was going to become a fight.

"Why-", the man started with a grin, ready to drop a snarky remark.

"'cause I'll cut your damn balls off if you touch me again!", and because you let your hand hover over your knife, out of habit and sense of protection, your opponent saw it as an invitation and pulled out his hunting knife before you even had a chance to calm the situation. Not that you would have wanted to. You were boiling with rage by now.

Someone shoved you closer to your opponent and in the blink of an eye, the brawl was on. You were still fumbling for your knife when you had to dodge the first attack. As if being drunk didn't make it hard enough, the other bystanders weren’t content with just watching and cheering. You were constantly pushed by mostly drunk men in boots and sweaty shirts, who found it exhilarating to see two people fight for their lives. Hell - seeing a woman fight.

After he had landed a punch in your face, your focus was shattered and replaced by white-hot rage. It was only a matter of pure instinct, of fighting to survive. You stumbled backwards, still lashing out with your fist and knife as if for some reason you were hoping to do any damage that way. Your vision kept going black and you slipped on the dirty floor. Flashes of colour and movement intermingled with the cheering crowd and your screaming.

You couldn't tell how long it kept going, but you knew it was over when you felt something slice through your abdomen. Then, all of a sudden, you crouched on the floor face down and had to work hard to sit up. Not much time could have passed because...? You weren't sure. Nobody pretended like there was a fight anymore, but when your hand felt for the wet fabric of your shirt that was bothering you, it only felt slick blood.

"Shit...", as your eyes roamed the saloon, you found no familiar faces. You heaved yourself up the stairs in the hope of finding the only man who you knew was somewhat capable of helping you. You released a shaky breath as you saw Arthur's hat. He had his back turned towards you as he still sat at the Blackjack table. With all the strength you could muster, you stood up and stumbled closer.

"Morgan?", you tried to sound firm, but at this point you were fighting against losing consciousness.

"Not now. I got a good hand", Arthur stared down at his Blackjack in front of him, impatiently waiting for the rest of the players to make their moves, betting on the chance that he would be the only one with a blackjack in this round.

"Arthur-", you tried again, but he ignored you. It was only when the dealer halted to look at you that Arthur turned around, pissed for the intrusion.

"I said: Not now god damnit!", Arthur had barely finished scolding you when his eyes got big at the blood soaking your shirt at your side. Then he scrambled to his feet, as if someone had poked him with a hot iron.

"What happened?", he asked, approaching you quickly.

"I lost a fight", you grunted.

Arthur carefully peeled your hand away from the wound to assess the damage: "We gotta get ya to a doctor."

"No! No doctor."

"That wasn't a suggestion, y/n", Arthur stated firmly.

"Please", you whined, "You can manage that, can't you?"

Arthur looked you up and down before he offered an arm for support and led you down the stairs: "Where are the others? Where's Karen?"

"Went off a while ago."

"Micah?"

"I have no fucking clue."

"Len-", Arthur started but you interrupted him by yelling, "I don't fucking know!"

"Christ, calm down woman", Arthur demanded in a harsh tone. He was stressed. He would have much preferred to have Miss Grimshaw here to look after you. Suddenly, your vision went black and you missed the last step of the flight of stairs. Arthur was there to catch you and quickly picked you up into his arms. At this point, you were too weak to protest.

Arthur hurried to the bar.

"Got a free room?"

He felt his blood pressure rise as he watched the bartender lazily scanning his book for a free register.

"2b", he finally said, and Arthur released his breath, "But if you get it dirty you pay the cleaning fee!"

"Sure", Arthur mumbled with his back already turned towards the bartender and hurrying off to the room.

"Have you got something on you to stitch you up? Some first aid kit?", Arthur asked while he struggled to open the door to the room with you in his arms.

You only shook your head.

"What? Not even on your horse?!", Arthur seemed perplexed at you confession. He lowered you onto the bed, surprisingly carefully.

"No", you grunted. You rested on your side with the deep cut on top to give Arthur better access. Your hands were still clutching the wound through the shirt.

"Why?!", Arthur asked befuddled. If he asked stupid questions to annoy or play with you - you weren't having it. You fought for your dear life to not pass out. The truth was, Arthur was just damn apprehensive. Helplessly and distressed he looked around in the room before he took a breath and squatted next to the bed.

"'mkay let me have a proper look at it", he mumbled with a sigh. You felt like you couldn't move at all, but the man seemed to understand and carefully peeled your hands off, squeezing them lightly as he placed them where they wouldn't be in the way. Then he lifted your shirt, rolling it up high enough to have a good look at the wound.

You watched him in the corner of your eye, trying hard to make sense of his expression.

"I'll get the med kit from my horse", Arthur explained calmly, a concentrated and cold expression on his face. A whimper made him halt in the process of standing up.

Arthur wasn't sure if you had said something, but he thought he had seen your lips move.

"What?", he asked, looking down at you.

"Don't leave", you whispered in a shaky voice.

There was nobody in the world that could have convinced you that Arthur was going to come back. No, getting the med kit from his horse surely was an excuse to leave, to leave you here to slowly bleed out. Because if you were being honest, why should he help you? Nobody had ever helped you just for the sake of it.

Arthur thought that he had never seen you so pathetic. He had never dreamed about seeing you this desperate,...this dependent.

"You want me to stitch you up or not?", Arthur asked.

"You aren't coming back", you complained, totally sure of it.

"You might deserve to be left bleeding out, but that doesn't mean I'll let that happen", Arthur teased. When he saw you were in no constitution to take a joke, he went on: "I'm jus' joking...I'll be back before you count to twenty."

And with that said, he hurried out of the room. You closed your eyes, still not convinced that he'd be back...but you weren't sure if you had passed out for a minute or if you had just blinked real slowly, but when you opened your eyes again, Arthur was right there in front of you, moving and shoving your body to get you into a good position.

"Ya can't read, can't count. Hell, I'm wondering if ya have something in that brain of yours worth savin’", Arthur smirked when he finally had you the position he needed you.

Though his words were harsh and teasing, he didn't handle you like that at all. When he cut open the shirt that was covering parts of your wound, he was nothing but gentle, careful to not have his cold blade touch your skin or yank on your shirt. With half-lidded eyes you watched as he went to wash his hands in the little water bowl on the table and then soaked a towel fresh in alcohol.

"This gonna hurt a little. Won't be the worst part, though", Arthur warned before he started to clean your wound. You answered with some painful huffs. When you groaned as he poured some alcohol on it, staining the already red coloured bed sheet he mumbled a: "Don't start enjoyin' this too much."

You grinded your teeth, hissing: "Like I want your dirty hands on me!"

"I can always stop if ya'd prefer that, Missy", he said, briefly stopping his actions, though the burn of the alcohol still lingered.

"Fuck you, Morgan", you groaned.

"Besides, my hands are now cleaner than I've ever seen yours so why don't ya shut up", Arthur stated, concentrating on getting the needle and thread out.

He had a point. Your hands were dirty most of the time, but not because you didn't wash them. Because you were hard working. As soon as you had gutted an animal for Pearson, you'd be called to search for herbs around camp. Then you played with Jack in the mud and later cared for your horse’s coat. Admittedly, your hands were in a particularly rough state at the moment. Bloody from holding your stomach and bruised from hitting your opponent. For a brief second you wondered how he had ended up and if you had caused some damage.

Arthur's hands were...warm, you noticed. One of his hands rested on your hip to keep you steady, though you hadn't moved in a while, the other one held the needle. There was no reason for his hand resting there, it just did. It grounded you. It made your breathing calm down. And besides the pain and anxiety being overwhelming, you still felt it.

"Listen, I'm gonna start now. Uhm- you got a bandana on you?", he asked as he scanned your clothes, finding none. You managed to shake your head weakly.

Arthur put down the needle. Then you felt his hand leave your body, what remained was a warm spot on your skin that quickly cooled down. You watched as Arthur took the bandana off which had been around your neck.

"Ya need something to bite on", Arthur explained and makes a little ball of the fabric.

"As if I'm not suffering enough, now I gotta choke on your sweat too", you whispered complainingly.

"Trust me, it's better than biting your lip...", Arthur considered for a second. Your lip was already fucked up, apparently the gentleman you were fighting with had landed a good blow, but he chose to ignore that: "Don't ya worry, I'm not thrilled about you drooling all over it too."

And with that you opened your mouth willingly for him to place the bandana in, still lying on your hands.

"This gonna hurt but ya keep still", Arthur stated matter-of factly. If Arthur had felt the effects of the alcohol while he was spending money gambling, he felt more than sober now. All of his skill and concentration was required, and he was relived his body was doing its part to make that happen when he finally poked the needle through your skin.

The pain was excruciating, a white-hot agony that seemed to spread from the wound to every nerve in your body. As the needle pierced your skin, you were glad you had some fabric between your teeth or you would have surely gritted them hard enough to make them shatter.

You were only half-conscious, the whiskey you'd been drinking earlier seemed to have left you completely, doing little to dull the pain. You felt the blood trickling down your skin, your sweat that poured off your forehead blurring your vision even more than the pain already did.

All you heard was Arthur. You couldn't make out a single word he was saying. Your mind blurred everything around you. But you understood his gentle tone. His hands moved swiftly and carefully. When you dared to look down, you saw them working with precision, as if he had done it a hundred times before. And he probably had.

"Ya know yer damn stupid for not having at least some bandages on you", suddenly his voice wasn't that gentle anymore, and suddenly your mind decided to let you understand him again.

"Why would ya do that? You know in this line of work...", Arthur went on and looked at you for a moment while you were glaring back at him. His eyes were telling a whole god damn story, a story you were to knocked out to decipher.

"You look like shit", he said friendly. He knew you couldn't talk back, you couldn't fight back, hell, you wouldn't even complain because he was in the process of saving your life. You threw your head back in protest, rolling your eyes as another piercing pain spread through your body.

It was a slow and painstaking process, each stitch feeling like an eternity of agony. You could feel yourself slipping away, the edges of your vision turning black as your body tried to escape the pain. And then you felt a hand lightly slapping your cheek.

"I'd like that back", Arthur murmured as he waited for you to open your mouth more so he could pull the bandana out. When he held it between two fingers, you smiled tiredly. Him complaining about your saliva while his hands were covered in your blood was somewhat ironic, enough to make your lips curl into a smile. Then suddenly, your face dropped.

"I don't want to die", you whispered hoarsely.

"I'm afraid you'll make it", Arthur answered. He takes a wet but clean end of the towel to gently wipe your face, cleaning it from sweat and blood.

"Yer an idiot for going around and starting fights you can't win", Arthur said as he stood up to wash his hands.

"Well I thought I'd win", you answered weakly. Breathing out and feeling the pain it caused in your abdomen.

"I always knew you had a terrible sense of judgement", he chuckled.

It was surprising that after he had cleaned his hands he came back. He slowly sat on the bed next to you and his hand rested on your back. You felt him drawing small circles with his fingers. It was quiet in the room, besides your heavy breathing and the bustling saloon behind the door.

Arthur halted when his fingers felt a scar on your back. You couldn't stop him from leaning back and looking.

"Jesus...y/n", he commented. You sighed.

Your back was full of scars and old wounds, you knew that. Arthur hadn't known, obviously, only a few people really knew about this.

"What are those?", he asked. His hands intriguingly wandered all over your back which was scattered with small burn marks and scars. They weren't particularly huge or nasty, but they were there.

"You try growing up as a girl in the Bell family", you murmured with half-closed eyes staring into the nothingness of the room.

"Ya tellin' me that Micah-"

"Some of them. But they are old. Doesn't matter", you stated briefly, "besides, I now got a new one to worry about."

It came in waves, the pain. Just after you had said your last sentence, you thought you’d finally drift off to sleep, but then it shoots through your body and almost makes you scream in agony. Arthur’s hand took your smaller, beaten up ones, held it tightly and mumbled: “It’s gonna be okay.”

You knew you didn’t deserve this. Arthur sat there like the babysitter you had always mocked him not to be, and yet he wiped your face ever so often to get rid of the sweat and tears which you couldn’t stop from forming in the corner of your eyes and rolling over your cheek.

“Why are you still here?”, you managed to ask after a while of fighting another wave of pain off.

“Jus’ checking if ya make it through the next hour”, Arthur answered sarcastically. He knew he’d never see the end of it if you caught on to the fact that Arthur had felt an unusual strong fear of losing you. A couple of weeks ago, when the two of you had fought, he had felt guilty for sending you away and was glad to find out you hadn't wandered off, but this was different. You had almost died…in his care.

The man swallowed as he observed you. Your eyes were now closed and your chest barely moved with your weak breathing. He had never thought when he first met you, that you could be this fragile and vulnerable. You would slap him for even thinking that, Arthur thought and smiled at the thought. He wanted to be there for you, to protect you.

"'Course...why the one who'd draw on me for feelin' like that...", he mumbled to himself.

So he’d sit there for a while and hold your hand, check your breathing ever so often and hope that some of the colour would return to your face.

The next morning you would wake up alone in the blood-stained bed. And someone would knock and come in to collect you – Miss Grimshaw and Charles. And you’ll find that all the expenses have been paid and that Miss Grimshaw was perfectly filled in on the happenings of last night, so she kept scolding you while you had not enough stregth to fight Charles carrying you to the wagon they had brought. But your thoughts were somewhere else entirely.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-

taglist: @xclovers @photo1030 @cowboydisaster @stilinskiwitch @globetrotter28 @unbotheredbeeeee @eyelovie @ashjbu @lovrgirlsstuff @how-the-heck-would-i-know @urfavjanalein

next chapter: here

[azures-bazar]

Accommodating 

Re-uploading this one shot because I wanted to add some changes. I'm experiencing a massive writers block tho, my inspiration is gone (my new job is taking most of my mental energy away but I love it lmao)

Here is some SOFT!Arthur one-shot, again, because boy oh boy it makes me want to write a full story about him going through our current era lol

Don't mind his absolute child-like fascination for modernity, I mean... it's cool to see our tough cowboy happy, isn't it ?

Arthur Morgan x GenderNeutralReader 

Word count : 2.9k

Short summary : You make Arthur try some new technologies, and it’s quite funny to watch his large blue eyes gaze at them ! 

A/Note : I bought myself a galaxy projector not so long ago and wondered how Arthur would react lol. Don’t mind it ! 

Tags : cute, Arthur discovers modern things, mentions of Avatar, movie-watching, snacks, cute nicknames, cuddles, soft boah is in the modern world, men can also cry

A cowboy in the modern world… what a weird story to tell ! Arthur had been in your life for a few months already, slowly accommodating to your era. Sometimes, it was fun, sometimes it was almost scary, and, occasionally, it could be sad. You knew Arthur was an outlaw, a thirty-six, probably thirty-seven year-old man who had been abandoned on the top of a mountain, but he never really brought the subject to the table. In fact, on a few occasions, he would mourn the rest of his gang, he would mourn his friends he would never see again. You had done your best to cheer him up during his rather sad moments, but nothing could really fill that void. 

Arthur missed these folks, a few names were frequently mentioned : Hosea, John, Tilly, Charles, Sean and Lenny. Six people he would describe at times, probably the six people he missed the most from his former life. A father-figure, his siblings, his closest friends… he often wondered what happened to them, to these people becoming distant memories he could only mourn. As of 2023, even little Jack was gone. You wished you could do something, probably beg for Francis Sinclair to come back and drag all these people he mentioned to your time… but Francis was long gone, not even bothering about stepping by your place anymore.

You knew Arthur loved drawing stuff, so you bought him a set of sketchbooks for him to practice. He would hole himself in your now-shared room, sitting on the edge of your window or on your bed, spending about one or two hours sketching figures, animals or even sceneries which appeared to be from a very distant era, mixed with modern buildings and figures he came across while wandering in the streets with you. You often left him alone for him to enjoy his solitude, listening to some blues while sketching his discoveries before he would head to you and proudly show you some of his works. One of your walls had a full set of Arthur’s drawings framed and displayed to the eyes of any guest coming in. After all… it was art ! And nothing could make Arthur more happy than receiving compliments about his sketches he often disliked. 

Arthur still had some hard time getting used to a smartphone you had bought him as you thought it would be a good thing to keep in touch whenever you would be away from him. He nearly broke his phone’s screen twice, unable to understand why it would not switch on, struggling to send you correctly written texts. His large fingers did not help much, he would get easily frustrated by not selecting the right letter for his text. You absolutely adored each one of them, finding them incredibly cute by knowing how much Arthur wanted to do things like you. Sending a text usually took you a few seconds, whereas Arthur would roughly spend one minute writing a five-word sentence filled with typing mistakes, some of them being due to his autocorrector. 

"Im misqing yoi, Y/N !" was an almost daily message he would send you

At some point, you saw an add of a galaxy projector while scrolling on some social media, right after telling Arthur he would probably get a lot of followers if he decided, by miracle, probably, to create an account for himself. He was handsome, had some sweet-looking traits and could easily model for some alternative brands. He often said he would never do such thing, finding his face too ugly to be shown to anyone. How wrong he was, he was probably the most gorgeous-looking man you had ever met ! But, somehow, you did not want to encourage him to post pictures of himself. Social medias were a rather dangerous place for healing minds, and Arthur still needed time. Besides, he would probably not even be able to post anything due to his lack of ease using his digital keyboard ! 

You bought that lamp later that night, it got delivered quite fast. You carefully unpacked your new tool and quickly headed to your bedroom, followed by Arthur who had stopped reading a book about extinct species as he saw you wander around your place with this curious thing you held. You calmly placed the lamp on your bed, reading the instruction manual while Arthur touched it several times, not understand what the hell this little thing was and what was its purpose. 

"What’s that ?" Arthur asked 

"It’s a galaxy projector." you answered. 

"Why d’you need that ? Can’t you just look at ‘em stars from your window ?"

"Light pollution prevents it. These are often used to create a cute ambiance at home or to distract kids. Wanna give it a try ?" 

"Sure." 

Arthur sat on the bed as you switched all lights off, plugging your galaxy projector on, making a large blue and purple light come out of it, filled with laser dots representing stars. The background was moving a little, creating a wave effect which froze Arthur on place. He kept his head up, looking at your now star-covered ceiling. His surprised and mesmerised face was absolutely priceless ! His eyes were shining, his mouth remained half-open as he could not help but stare at these fake stars covering your ceiling. All his troubles were forgotten, making him return to a child-like state. It was such a beautiful thing to see ! 

"And it can also distract grown-ups." you smiled 

Your cowboy-roommate did not even react. His attention was completely focused on the ocean of fake stars he had above his head ! Of course, Arthur knew what a projector was. It would have been awesome to see his reaction if he had never seen such thing before, he would probably have been trying to catch these laser stars like a cat and look confused. But, at the moment, his reaction was pretty cute. 

You left Arthur alone in the room to buy a ready-made lunch at the local market. He had a phone and would call you whenever he would need your help, if he would get lucky enough to make his fingers touch the right icon on his screen. It only took you a few minutes to buy some finger food for the two of you to eat while watching a movie, you came back to find Arthur exactly where you had left him thirty minutes earlier, in the same position, with this same amazed facial expression blooming on his face. He was hypnotised by these lights enough to feel suddenly so lost as you opened the curtains of your bedroom. 

"Wh… what’s going on ?" he said, placing his large hand over his eyes. "Damn sunlight…"

"I brought us some food. You wanna watch a movie ?" 

"Yeah, why not ! Just… just let have my eyes back first, hun." 

Arthur rubbed his eyes and shook his head while you smiled. You absolutely loved listening to him giving you cute nicknames, such as hun, sweetheart, lovebug… even calling you boo, sometimes, after he heard about that nickname while watching TV. It took him a few more seconds to leave your bedroom, keeping his eyes partly closed until reaching your living room, helping you placing all the food on the table, still looking surprised you did not have any forks or knives to eat these carrots, chips, mozzarella sticks and cucumbers. He glanced at the chips and took one between his fingers. Since his arrival in your era, he had never seen or had the opportunity to taste chips !

"What’s that thing ?" he asked. "Is that really food ?"

"Oh, that’s a potato chip." 

"Really ? Just like fried potatoes ?" 

"Yeah, just like fried potatoes, but smaller and thinner. We can eat them for snacks or very random occasions. Try it !"

Arthur nodded, taking a bite of the chip before smiling and taking more of them into his large hand. You could not help but chuckle at his sudden addiction to salty treats, wiping away a few crumbs stuck in his three-day beard with the tip of your fingers. He turned shades darker and smiled, gently taking your hand and rubbing it with his thumb as you launched the movie. Avatar, by James Cameron. Back in a day, that movie had been vastly acclaimed for its large technological progress, and was still pleasant to be watched to this day. You would take Arthur to watch the second Avatar movie someday soon in case he liked the first one. 

"Are ‘em blue folks real ?" Arthur asked while pointing a Na’vi on screen

"No, they’re modelled with computers." you smiled, trying to explain Arthur about motion capture in the most easiest way. "Our technologies allow us to record actors and then modify their bodies thanks to computers to morph them into these blue folks, like you call them."

"Is there a planet called Pandora too ?" 

"I don’t know. Probably ? The universe in infinite, and we didn’t explore much yet." 

The gaze Arthur gave you was adorable. You could see his eyes shine with admiration, it was such a privilege to be able to witness an era which was more than one hundred years ahead of his time, despite its good and bad moments. You had tried your best to keep Arthur away from newspapers in order to help him remain in his rather innocent state of discovery, knowing that a simple glance at the news on TV would probably make him terribly sad and somewhat nostalgic of his own time. 

It was quite unexpected, but Arthur cried during the movie. He cried because of its overall beauty, the story appeared amazing to his eyes, the soft melodies and choirs chanting in background soundtracks moved him a lot. He loved the bioluminescent effect of some scenes, the overall atmosphere of the movie, not taking his eyes away from your TV while wrapping his arm around your shoulders, gently kissing your temple at times. He adored that, he adored this moment. Having you close to him while being fully taken into this movie made him forget about all his past troubles.

"D’you also have ‘em guns ?" he softly asked 

"Maybe… why ? You want one in case you’d come across blue people ?" 

"Mmmm… yeah. Jus’ in case. I miss my good ol' revolver, sometimes." 

You rested your head on his shoulder, somewhat amused by his sweet attitude. You would listen to his gasps, his soft squeals, his almost inaudible wows… you could not deny how adorable Arthur was. You could even hear him sniff, his chest trembling a little whenever a scene would be emotional enough to bring him to tears. Who would have thought Arthur could be so sensitive ? Those who knew him much more than you did. Hosea and Charles, for instance, and most probably John at some point, even Dutch. Just by looking at his drawings, you could have guessed he had a soft heart and high intelligence hidden underneath his rather menacing appearance. 

The movie lasted for so long… you had time to check your phone about a dozen times while resting against Arthur whose eyes were glued to the screen. You did not even want to bother him, he was absolutely hypnotised by the movie and did not want to be bothered. You smiled at him as the credits rolled, noticing tears streaming on his cheeks as you teasingly poked them. 

"Getting a little sensitive, huh ?" you smiled 

"That was a beautiful show !" Arthur answered. "I loved every second of it ! Can we watch it again ?" 

"Someday, we will. But... let's just take a break, okay ?" 

Night came pretty fast, Arthur made you a lavender infusion, you found enough energy to work a little while Arthur sat on the couch and started sketching. Very random figures, some fantasy-like sceneries… and you. You could easily tell he was drawing you by looking towards your direction a few times, then proceeding to sketch something, and looking back again. Another artwork to frame, that was for sure ! 

"What are you drawing, cowboy ?" you smiled 

"Well… I’m trying to sketch you, but I can’t get it right… you’re too gorgeous and my hand shakes too much." 

"That’s… that’s really sweet !" 

"I mean it." 

What Arthur told you made your heart stop beating, you turned shades darker and hid your face behind your hands. Your smile widened enough to cause your roommate to move closer to you, carefully closing your laptop with a large smirk blooming on his face. He made you stand up, slowly uncovering your beautiful face before dropping a sweet kiss on your forehead. 

"You’re making me melt, you know that ?" you smiled 

"Let’s get you to bed so you’ll stop workin’ on your… weird machine here." 

"It’s a computer, Arthur." 

"Well, computer or not, you’re going to bed with me ‘cause it’s kinda late."

You shrugged, you didn’t notice how fast time had passed since you decided to get back to work ! Remote-working had its ups and downs, and Arthur had complained a few times about you staying up too late instead of going to bed and hide into his embrace. He could hardly sleep without having you next to him, and there were no ways to escape him that night. How could you resist these puppy eyes and insisting behaviour ? Your arms spread wide for him to lift you up while you dragged your legs around his hips. Arthur loved carrying you around your place, he could easily remain in shape by doing this almost on a daily basis ! You did not mind it. In fact, you loved having him carry you from a room to another. Bridal and koala style, as you called it, were your favourite. 

Arthur calmly put you on the bed and proceeded switching all lights off while you changed into some more comfortable wear, slipping under your blanket as Arthur moved next to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. He took advantage of you turning yourself towards him to passionately kiss you before making you rest your head on his shoulder. You remained like this for a few seconds, in your pitch-black bedroom, up until Arthur cleared his throat. 

"Erm… Y/N ?" he sheepishly asked 

"Yeah ? What’s wrong ?" 

"Would you mind… switching the galaxy lamp on for a bit ? I… I liked it and…-"

"Sure, sweetheart."

You gasped at your own sudden reaction. "Sweetheart ? Really ?" you scolded yourself, covering your forehead with your palm. You never dared giving Arthur nicknames, not finding anyone of them suitable enough for your time-traveling cowboy, his sole name sounded just fine, you would sometimes call him by his surname. Sweetheart came out of nowhere, and was well deserved ! 

"S-sorry." you stuttered 

"Nah, it’s fine." Morgan responded. "I like ‘em sweet nicknames. "

Arthur smiled, deeply flattered by the nickname you just gave him. His heart pounded faster than expected as you calmly reached out to get the lamp and switched it on. A beautiful fake galaxy suddenly covered your ceiling, filled with laser stars which slowly moved along with the rest of the digital ocean of blue and purple clouds behind them. You analysed Arthur’s reaction and smiled at his sight. 

"Why do you like this lamp so much ?" you smiled

"Oh… it just reminds of home." Arthur answered as he moved closer to you, allowing you to place your head back on his chest 

"You never slept with a roof over your head before you came here ?" 

"I did, at some point… but I got used to fall asleep while gazing at the stars from a corner of my tent, or sometimes from my bedroll when I was away. Gazing at ‘em moving above me was always calming."

"If you want, we could go camping this summer. Would you like that ?"

You heard Arthur moan a little, feeling his heart pound faster. Your head rose a little, allowing you to get a better view of Arthur’s beautiful face. Your hand caressed his chest, drawing circles on them while you kept gazing at him. His eyes kept staring at the ceiling until he felt your gaze, slowly turning his head to you. 

"That’d be awesome." he smiled 

There were many things left to discover, many things you wanted to show Arthur. The world was full of treasures, modern or ancient, cultures you wanted him to get familiar with, places to visit… Arthur’s health was back to normal, you could now guide him through your own era without bothering about any health issues he would encounter. Indeed, that man was not twenty anymore, but you were ready to do so much for him ! You were ready to guide him, to be with him. Beyond what Francis had first asked you. Your help turned into a beautiful blossoming relationship filled with embraces, kisses and… very noisy nights. 

Switching this galaxy lamp became some sort of ritual every single night. Along with waking up to Arthur’s face and his hugs after you would come back from work, your daily embrace in bed facing a fake galaxy was your most favourite part of the day. At times, you would run your fingers into Arthur’s dirty-blonde locks, massaging his scalp with singing some song. Sometimes, he would do the same with you. You adored it, you adored him. No, you loved him… and did not have the courage to tell him just yet, but you knew this day would come soon enough. The world was filled with treasures, mysteries and beauty. 

And Arthur was going to find out about them. 

[christmascheeseballs]

Till Death Do Us Part  – An Arthur Morgan x OC Story *PART THREE*

Content Warnings – Kidnapping, Death Threats, Micah Bell, Trauma, Angst, Character Deaths, Eventual Happy Ending

Word Count – 1.2k

Part One - 1.3k words (17th July 2024)

Part Two - 1.7k words (17th July 2024)

Part Three - 1.2k words (19th July 2024)

Authors Note – I really don’t feel like this one is as good as the others – I’m better at writing angst? I think? I’m sorry about the very end, I’m just so bad at writing fluff apparently? If anyone wants to add anything go for it besties <3

“Micah, if you’re in here, come out”

Clasping Bea to your chest, her terrified figure shaking within your arms, you stare at the door, a voice from your past echoing from the frigid mountains ahead of you. The raspy voice of John Marston beckons Micah, and you knew this would be your chance at freedom, if John played his cards right.

A new fear suddenly enveloped you – Bea. Having to explain this entire situation, the existence of your child to her fathers best friend and brother. Your disappearance, everything.

What if he hated you?

A second voice shook you to your core. The once warm, loving voice that used to sooth you to sleep, whispering sweet nothings in the peaceful quiet of the night within your shared tent, now turned cold and unfamiliar. “I told you Bell, you’d pay for what you did to the gang. My family. My wife.” Your head snapped towards the door, your hogtied ankles wrestling against the rope cutting into your skin. You yelled against the filthy rag stuffed into your mouth as a gag, to no avail. Bea looked up at your sudden movements and sounds, confusion lacing across the fear in her sweet face.

“Mama? Are you ok?” She whispered, tear stains etched into the dirt on her cheeks from the last few weeks. You shook your head gently at her, your eyes begging for her to stay quiet. The last thing you needed was Micah or one of his cronies to hear her, and ruin your chances when you were this close to your long lost lover.

How was he alive? Although he never told you, you knew he wasn’t well, and you thought you knew that he was doomed to die. A sudden feeling of despair and grief grabbed hold of your heart, longing for the time that you now knew you’d lost with Arthur.

A sudden gunshot through one of the shacks windows snapped you out of your despair. A gunfight outside continues, jabs and threats thrown between the three men. A sudden movement from behind you caused your head to snap around, allowing you to remember Dutch’s existence in the building with you. Looking at you, he gave an apologetic look, or as close as he possibly could’ve to the sort, before striding out of the shack.

The gunfight ceased at Dutch’s arrival, until one last shot rung out.

“You shot me. You shot me pretty good”

-x-

The conversation outside was too dull for you to hear, until Dutch raised his voice. “It’s worth taking a look inside, gentlemen. That’s as much as I can help you now”. You could hear his footsteps quietening as he walked away in the snow, leaving John and Arthur outside, just moments away from finding you and Bea.

Next thing you knew, more people joined the dull conversation outside. Straining your ears, you thought you could make out the tones of Sadie and Charles. Your heart genuinely ached for the reunition that was about to take place. Bea clasped at you closer, her eyes – identical to those of her father – glistening with confusion. How could you explain to a 6 year old what was about to happen, when you scarcely understood it yourself?

“I’ll take a look. There might be some cash? I suppose? Y’all can wait here”, you gasped lowly, knowing that the time was now

The door of the shack rattled in front of you, and premature tears of joy began to roll down your face. As it opened, you blinked at the bright sun light leaking into the dingy room, as the unmistakeable silhouette of John Marston filled the doorway. As your eyes adjusted, you watched as his face paled in shock.

“Marston? What you stopping for?” You stared into John’s face as he stumbled sideways into the doorframe, his eyes confused, scared, hopeful. So many emotions, and you knew you portrayed the exact same in your own face. Another figure pushed past him impatiently – Athur.

A weak noise left his mouth as he spotted you, truly speechless. His blue eyes, so like Bea’s, stared into your own, before shifting down to the young girl in your lap. His mouth opened, and shut again, clearly not knowing what to say.

As you shifted your weight slightly, the rope cutting further into your ankles, he seemingly snapped into action, suddenly realising your predicament. He stumbled towards you, hand desperately clasping his knife to cut the ropes away from you. Once you were free, you fell helplessly into his awaiting arms, breaking down into broken sobs. Years of emotion all coming to a head. Bea, slightly crushed between you, wriggled gently, once again bringing you back to reality.

At this point, you genuinely didn’t know if it was reality or another helpless dream.

Arthur drew back, staring at the little girl in your arms, the potential of heartbreak flooding his eyes. You could see his calculating face working out her age, taking in her unmistakable eyes, an understanding spread across his face.

“I guess we were both keeping things, huh?” He murmured, a small smile gracing his face. You laughed gently, collapsing into his arms again.

“I thought you were dead, Arthur” you sobbed. He drew back again and stared at you.

“And I you, Flo. Me and John thought Bell had taken you all those years ago, when you disappeared before I could catch up with you guys”.

“But.. but you were ill? When I found out I was pregnant, I thought you was long dead. I had to escape.” You whispered, both of you realising that this was the most tragic misunderstanding.

A cough behind Arthur caused you to both turn, starting at the interruption. Sadie, John and Charles stood, confusion in their faces as well as clear relief. You smiled gently at them, trying to express the apology they deserved in your expression.

“Right then, I guess we better get you home?”

-x-

You sat on the back of Arthur’s horses rump, hugging his back, crying gently into his shirt, his familiar smell flooding your senses, making you realise quite how much you missed him over the last 7 years. You had convinced Bea to finally unpeel herself from you, and she now road with Charles, chatting away to him as he chuckled gently. Your group trotted gently down the mountain, chatting gently to one another as you caught up on the traumatising few years of your life that you had just experienced.

As you begun to approach the area of Blackwater, you sat up gently, looking around at the familiar surroundings. “How long have y’all been in this area?” You said, wistfulness filling your heart. “We’ve been just south of here for like 6 months now, down at MacFarlane’s Ranch, have I seriously just missed youse?”

“You’re not serious Flo?” said John, going on to explain the building of Beecher’s Hope, and how he and Sadie had occasionally worked nearby to the ranch. Again, the bittersweet wistfulness you had suddenly grown used to flooded your heart.

-x-

Turning into Beecher’s Hope, you saw the figures of Abigail and – Jack? You would presume? – heading out of the ranch house, before spotting Abigail pause as she spotted your figure on the back of Arthur’s horse. Once again, you watched her face fill with confusion, yet also relief, as you could see the weight of her secret come off of her shoulders.

The evening was spent catching up, teaching Arthur all about your little girl together, as you watched him step more than willingly into his new fatherhood position.

Life, finally, was good.

[crowleywowley]

Babe wake up laurelicious has returned with more modern au headcanons 🥱 thank u to everyone who loves on these posts and adds their own silly things to it!!! Y’all make me very happy and I’m glad we can share this goofy universe!!

Previous sillies:

1 2 3 4 5 6

See yall unda da cut 😼😼😼

-little miss Unnamed Marston Daughter has absolutely been blasting Olivia Rodrigo’s new album around the house

Everyone complains but John finds himself quietly murmuring “seeing u tonight… it’s a bad idea right??” While he’s brushing his teeth

Abigail tries to be supportive and plays it while she drives the kids to school, now she and Jack know all the words to Vampire and listen to it once they’ve already dropped UMD off

-both Marston children always dress as something weird for Halloween

John and Abigail stay up late making the costumes for their weirdo children bc they love them :)

On a similar note when John and Arthur were kids they were little matching power rangers and if you bring it up to Dutch he WILL cry over it bc he loves his babies

-the entire Marston family takes Halloween way too seriously to be completely honest

Abigail and John are the cool family in the neighborhood with the really good candy

Dutch and Hosea have now graduated to the old person level of giving out full sized bars but the window of opportunity before they turn in for the night is SMALL so all the kids in their neighborhood sprint to their house first

Charles and Arthur give out tootsie rolls and milk duds. That’s it.

-the following are songs John cried to as a teenager:

Fall for You by Secondhand Serenade

Miserable at Best by Mayday Parade

Scars by Papa Roach

Disenchanted by MCR

-John and Javier were absolutely bffs in middle/high school, they kissed once at a party then never spoke of it again

Javier is now the cool childless uncle that they all see once a year and brings the kids cool gifts

-when Arthur was a teenager he got caught sneaking back into the house after curfew, he was grounded for a month

John was the asshole little sibling who was super excited that his brother was in trouble

-Arthur wears slippers, Charles wears fuzzy socks. I’m right

-Charles uses nice shampoo/conditioner and Arthur is always hovering around on wash days:)

-Arthur has broken every single toe like. 5 times at least.

-Charles and Arthur love corny ass reality TV

They started watching the bachelor to make fun of it, but now they tune in every single week and have their favorites

Tell me Arthur wouldn’t love the masked singer. He goes nuts every single time (“Charles!!!!!! They opened it up and it was KERMIT!?! That’s too good!”)

-Because Isaac doesn’t live with them full time these two go absolutely bananas when he comes to stay with them, Charles is scrubbing down the house while Arthur clears out the grocery store of all his favorite snacks :)

Before he visits Arthur is texting Eliza like “what drama should I know?? Any new friends? A girlfriend? A boyfriend?!?” Just so he’s up to date

-Arthur loves Raisin Bran/Corn Nuts/other old man cereals

-we’ve touched on this before but Charles’ mom absolutely adores Arthur and when she comes over she’s basically shoving Charles out of the way like “my baby darling Arthur how are you!!!🥰”

-Isaac plays baseball and Charles and Arthur are full on sport dads in the best way possible

They bring snacks for the team, they’re sitting in those little fold up chairs, they’re cheering louder than everyone else in the stands, etc.

Arthur ‘sentimental ass’ Morgan keeps a little box of all the memorabilia from baseball throughout the years :)

This was a particularly silly batch, methinks. As always if anyone wants me to add other characters into this universe lmk😼 alsooooo I have started writing little oneshots/drabbles/etc expanding this if anyone would be interested in reading them!! No promises on when they’d be done but I think it would be a good time hehe

[bookofmac]

okay okay okay, thinking thoughts

So I find the concept of Names really interesting in Camlann, reading into the extracanonical stuff put on the tumblr is giving me food for theory crafting. The Catacylsm seems to be some kind of return of magic to the world (possibly heralded by the return of The King of the Britons in their hour of need?) and thus people with significant Names have access to something because of it. they fall into the stories of their namesakes; Perry, Gwaine, and Kay are Knights, Morgan is Morgana Le Fay, and we now have a Gwen in Shújūn.

Based on Kay's dicussion with Perry if more people can fill in the roles of their stories to more 'to plan' the stories will go, Of course this is not good news if you know the general end point of Arthurian legend (Betrayal, muderer, war, most everyone dead, the 'Glory' of camelot gone). It's inherently kind of a doomsday cult if you stay in those stories, you know where parts of this are going (i'll get back to this)

it also seems like there may be some, for lack of a better term, kin drama going on. There are 900 members of the court and Kay mentions that Peredur is a really uncommon name outside of Wales, meaning there are certain knights who are more common, i assume Lancelot's, Kay's, maybe a few Talisin's, a bunch of Gareth's, and like 50 Elaines like in the legends lol

We also dont have the context for how Names work full yet and neither do our characters. I think theres a lot of answers to be had with Shújūn/Gwen with how it works, how you know other than the buzzing in you're head and desire go through the motions and Follow the Story

Now, where does Dai fit in all this?

Dai doesn't have a Name, and I think theres going to be a point where he changes his name in a major way, but not to a Name, but a Bardic name. In welsh poetic and story telling tradtions Welsh poets, THE OG Bards, will take on pseudonyms tell their stories. This practice stems from the medievil era, but goes forth to today, and many modern Welsh and welsh heritage poets have connections to this tradition (Dylan Thomas' middle name was his great uncles bardic name, Sarah Williams published her work under the name Sadie), I believe it's also a requirement to have one if you intend to perform in the major Eisteddfod, (I am Australian so my experiance of Eisteddfods here is very different so if i'm wrong on that let me know)

Why would he do this? I think Dai is going to, at least try, to write him and his friends a way out.

Much ink is spilt over how Arthurian legend doesnt have an 'orginal text', and as such there are lots of stories that are inherently contradictory; Bedwyr is the best knight, but so are Gwaine, Lancelot, and Galahad. Mordred is some random king until his Arthur's son. Arthur has a sister, no he has two, actually he has three and one of them is an Elaine. This could be used to explain any doubles (are you my Gwaine), as well as why we see a few different spelling varients which are, the very welsh Peredur as opposed to Percival or Parzifal, the anglisised and more boarish Kay as opposed to Cei or Caius (this last one might just to keep Dai and Kay distinct tho). These variations are no more or less 'canon' than any other telling of the story, and so often the writer of a given telling of Arthurian legend is going to have their own bias. But things dont HAVE to end the way they always do, and sometime you need to have someone outside the story you're caught in to tell you a new one.

You are not locked into that ever looming cloud of Thomas Mallory and Le Morte d'Arthur.

Other evidence I have for this is that Dai sings at the begining of each episode, and sings in welsh at that. He also is, to a point our narrator, existing both in and out of the current narative. Also his name is an a lyric of Sosban Fach (a song i would be surprised if it wasn't in the show at some point) 'Dai bach y sowldiwr' which is also not from the text the song was based on. Tangential yes, but i think it's worth thinking about.

I think there is also something to be said about choice in what your name is and how it feeds into the overall theme of identiy, and how that plays into other themes at play in the story, like Transness, Imperialism, and Predestination

TL:DR; While he doesnt have a Name, Dai's gonna give himself an epic bard name and save them all by writing a killer hook to get them out of the story

[nutluvs]

new rdr oc alert!! :3

; vincent “gravedigger” hawkins — he/him/his

· july 21, 1854 : 45 years old as of 1899 : 53 years old as of 1907 : 57 years old as of 1911

🐎 relationships · marco guerra · positive · friends · john marston · slightly negative · acquainted · dusk biancchi · positive · friends · arthur morgan · average · acquainted · iyu ugajin · positive · acquainted · occupations ranch hand : 15 years old to 25 years old blacksmith : 25 years old to 30 years old wanted outlaw, gunslinger, and drifter : 30 years old to death

🐂 personality · positive adventurous, efficient, mature, self-reliant, well-read · neutral determined · negative aloof, blunt, insensitive, resentful, secretive

· quotes : “you ain't so smart if you think i'm bein' serious. all of what i just said—lies. you're an adult. figure by now you'd know the difference between genuinity n'sarcasm... dumbass.” : “no, i ain't joinin' your.. uh, what is it, 'cause this.. uh, not a gang. what my point is, uh, i ain't the type to ride with other fellas. i work best alone.” : “what do i do? i kill people. i kill people and i ain't never felt bad 'bout it. and i just might kill you, if you keep botherin' me. you understand that, you disgustin', drunk bastard?”

🦬 songs · dogs of war : blues saraceno “when i hear the devil callin’, god will pay him for what he’s due.” · big iron : marty robbins “and he’s here to do some business with the big iron on his hip.” · devil’s got you beat : blues saraceno “evil on your mind, trouble at your feet, living by the gun, the devil’s got you beat.”

· voiceclaim : joel miller (the last of us [game]) 🦌faceclaim

dusk and marco both belong to @fadingkittenx! i’ll release more on him soon! hope you guys enjoy :)

[turian]

beloved gamer mutual & comrade @rhubarbspring tagged me to do a video game about me ( tysm for tagging !! truly loved reading all ur game thoughts. <3 ) explanations behind my choices under the cut.

(also, i had to cheat a little bit in the "you love, everyone hates" category, because i don't think people on tumblr hate da2, but one of my best friends despises it because of reused assets and combat designed more for consoles than pcs. and i can't remember any other controversial beloved games right now. the best i can do is games i love that i'm not sure anyone remembers? imagine ubisoft ballet? which, like. do people hate that. i don't think so).

tagging @cowsquirrel @malcriada @sakraya @ansburg @anoramactir + literally anyone i might have missed who wants to do this

favourite game of all time: so, look, i hate her as much as i love her. i always go back to new vegas even though i have a lot of criticisms of it - i had a realization recently after the release of the fallout show that while maybe i was projecting intergenerational trauma onto the game and using it to process some things, there is a lot in the game that is extremely imperialistic, even as it dabbles in anti imperialism. i can't get into all that here - better essays than i'm capable of have already been written on new vegas - but i also have to admit that new vegas taught me to see game writing differently, and helped me a great deal in improving my own writing. it's also just really entertaining playing later games by obsidian and picking out the new vegas elements. i think that new vegas gets praised too readily for being progressive when in reality it's only the most progressive game in the fallout franchise, and i think every time i return to it i'm noticing one more thing that'll kind of be making my eye twitch. but, yeah, i think it would also be dishonest to not include it here, regardless of my mixed feelings, because i keep going back, and because there are so many angles to it, and because i keep catching myself comparing other games to it.

i think a lot about like........... how so many themes i can relate to exist within the narrative of new vegas, but that doesn't feel entirely intentional. like, benny is so real to me because ! he was forced to assimilate into this culture that was not his to survive. and ulysses as well. and like!!!! yeah idk. going insane. i feel very similarly about dragon age elves tbh i'm like okay i feel seen but also this game is racist! kms :') will be projecting hard and taking so much psychic damage

many such cases tho </3 baldur's gate 3 and their treatment of the gur is always going to be a mix of relatable and uncomfortable to me

favourite series: soulsborne! i like how bleak it is, love the theme of death and rebirth, love how thankless the games can be, and i also love how the combat reminds me of muay thai. had a coach explain something to me using dark souls combat as an example once. i didn't really get these games at first, until i saw my best friend playing - she is ridiculously good at them - and then i sort of realized that they're just combat puzzles, and that like... they're kind of about honing patience, i guess? and after that they really became my favourite.

best soundtrack: honorary mentions: mass effect and dark souls both have some individual tracks i revisit on the daily, and skyrim's secunda is beautiful. but hollow knight doesn't miss, and i love how every track matches its environment.

favourite protagonist: i grew up in a really dysfunctional somewhat criminal family so like... lol. i feel seen when i look at arthur morgan <3 him and charles are both close to my heart. john can stay too ig

favourite villain: SO okay, maybe this is cheating a little, but. the reapers from mass effect. went into that game with zero spoilers, and finding out that they were in fact cosmic horror games was so <3

this would probably have gone to new vegas except benny (and also ulysses + i think he's more narrative foil than antagonist, as is benny) literally did nothing wrong in my eyes and after that point it's like... who is the main antagonist? the ncr and legion both? like yeah they're interesting but...

best story: i haven't actually finished pathologic on my own yet. kind of obsessed, though. just feels responsible to put it here. honorary mentions to new vegas, some fromsoft titles, twd, imagine ubisoft ballet........ (i love her and i miss her).

i feel like a lot of story games i've played actually have garbage stories with good characters, which is why they're not here. baldur's gate 3 and ME, for example. or like... ME has a great story at first but they fuck up the ending so badly that a popular theory i've heard passed around essentially boils down to "it was all a dream!"

have not played but want to: i was actually supposed to apply for a job with the team that made these games !! i didn't because it would have required relocation to the US, but. idk i feel like they keep showing up, always highly recommended, and i think i own one? so yeah, i should really get around to that.

you love, everyone hates: again, i cheated on this one. i don't think people on here hate dragon age 2.

you hate, everyone loves: skyrim, detroit: become human, stardew valley (because it's a weird little cottagecore colonialism game but also because i don't really vibe with the art style and i get stressed as fuck in it because nothing is happening... it is simply not for me), and fallout 3 and 4 (because they're masquerading as games with choices but they fully aren't, they suffer from bethesda writing, and they are super unapologetically racist and imperialist). i mean like... not mad at any of my friends who like these games i just cannot play them. i don't really think any of the games on my list are unimpeachable, tbf.

favourite art style: disco elysium !! it's so <3 like, i also love it for other reasons!! but every time i play it i end up wanting to draw.

favourite ending: new vegas has four endings. i feel differently about them all, but the independent ending is very much shaped by the infrastructure the player assembles during a playthrough, and while it is maybe imperfect and very open ended in some ways i like how it doesn't really reassure the player. also, i really like certain elden ring endings and the dark souls 1 ending. and pathologic.

favourite boss fight: hollow knight has a lot i've really enjoyed (particularly hornet's). for elden ring, malenia is the fave, tho <3 when i defeat her i tend to feel really disappointed. like, get up. let's go again. parrying her is extremely satisfying.

childhood game: we like... found out we had some cousins which is wild because this has been a tiny family since Certain Incidents A Long Time Ago and they also had nintendo ds access and they were not into this game. and like... look, i'm not saying it's great, but it had dark souls ish combat? like, you could lock on? you could roll? and i ended up replaying it as an adult and being like. huh. not that bad.

+ imagine ubisoft ballet ily

relaxing games: distance, injustice 2 (i main red hood & black canary but i like playing robin too. it's super imbalanced and they still haven't nerfed starfire !! and it's incredibly funny like good for her), dark souls 1, and elden ring.

stressful games: again stardew valley because i would play with friends and it was like oh god i need to leave. i do not know what to do, i am useless, i am understimulated

+ red dead online is not a good game to play without substantial backup . so glad i had horse insurance because if i hadn't my only friend in that world would be dead. that said, i did like to hunt in that game + play the fps levels with groups

games you always come back to: new vegas but maybe she'll release me someday. idk. also unfortunately i didn't include it earlier but i keep going back to the sims 4 and baldur's gate 3. and fromsoft titles because i sometimes just crave that combat.

guilty pleasure: new vegas again!!! i guess i kind of talked about my extremely complicated feelings when i first spoke about it, but yeah. there's just so much to unpack and i'm never going to forgive it for a lot of things. the horrors and the joys are both numerous but the joys will never not be tainted by the horrors

tons of hours played: elden ring + bg3 + new vegas + mass effect. i don't have the hours of new vegas and mass effect available tho as they are confined to a now dead xbox 360

[verdemoun]

So I have a new idea for a hypothetical ask. All the parental figures/old folks meeting up. Hosea, Bessie, Darraugh, Hamish, Lenny’s dad That’s mentioned in his letter possibly, Grimshaw, Dutch and the less parental Strauss, and Uncle

I would love them to just get to hang out together and in some cases away from the rest of the gang’s shenanigans (c’mon let Hamish and Hosea and Darraugh have there own shenanigans!!!) Plus I am a sucker for any hypothetical Hamish content and Hosea and Grimshaw are two of my favorite gang members :>

this made me laugh hypothetical au where the known parents of the gang turn up for no reason and get into antics

it feels like an intervention with darragh, mr summers, the duffys and later grimshaw and bessie all chiming up to yell at dutch and hosea What the everloving FUCK did you do to our boys. look at them. they have anxiety.

dutch tries to defend himself and hosea has to give him the shut up look because his talk of ideals immediately backfires when mr summers points out they left lenny to die alone.

the parents magically know what happened in rdr2. darragh and mr summers are instant best friends and are taking turns holding each other back from punching dutch in the face. mammy duffy does land a punch before her husband catches her

dutch and beatrice morgan get along a little too well and hosea is suddenly very thankful they never met because they both have that extra bit of neurological spice in the same direction. maybe it's schizophrenia, maybe it's unspecified delusions of grandeur but they both speak in pretty language that isn't entirely grounded in reality and very much feed that energy in each other.

lyle morgan pipes up about not being surprised arthur turned out to be a killer because there was always something wrong with that kid and hosea beats him with a chair. hamish stops hosea only to take the chair himself and join in. fuck lyle morgan

uncle only turned up to eat popcorn and watch williamson sr and marston sr both drink themselves stupid and then was so mildly infuriated by the display he decided fuck you they're my kids now. tell me uncle isn't the closest thing bill has to a positive male figure in his life in rdr2.

micah bell the second is annoyed at how much micah has slightly improved for the better in modern era. his 'wife' who is instead very proud of her son for finally being the slightly good person she always believed he was capable of being slaps him. dutch joins in punching gross old man who raised son to be as mentally warped as micah is - and that's coming from the master gaslighter himself

in more fun stuff: hamish, hosea and pappy duffy would be fishing pals, sit in silence drinking beer sort. uncle tags along but they aren't convinced he even owns a fishing rod. hamish and hosea have brief conversations about what a good kid arthur is while on the inside they are punching the ground screaming because he has done so well for himself and they're so proud he finally got the chance to just be happy

as much as they loathe dutch for encouraging their boys to be outlaws instead of using his resources to help them rebuild their lives and actually doing good, darragh and mr summers can't stop themselves from getting into pseudo-intellectual debates with dutch and annabelle. they all have really similar ideals about common good but disagree about how it is achieved and it's very amusing to see them get animated about it

grimshaw, bessie, mrs bell, mammy duffy and hosea are also gossips and love nothing more than sitting around drinking coffee and talking about their gaggle of children. also mrs bell is so beautiful and charming everyone is trying to decode how micah was produced. they are all just sharing childhood stories like micah picking weeds to be a bouquet for his mama who he adored and arthur's fishing story and the mission of giving john a bath and you can just tell they all love their kids.

[halfmoth-halfman]

y'all know what time it is! it's monthly fic rec time!!!

i decided to move this to the first so i wouldn't miss any fics that might be posted on the last day of each month!!

& a small, kinda sad update:

usually this is where i'd link to my fic-recs blog, but i hit the character limit on my filter page where i have my recs organized and when i made a new page it saved over the first one.

all of my filters and recs on that page are now gone and have to be manually re-done. you can still find my recs by scrolling through the blog, but the filter page is going to be under construction until i can get everything fixed and re-added!!

Alex Keller

❀ click click boom - @writeforfandoms

i don't see a lot of alex fics, so this was already a fav as soon as i saw it, but then i read it and ???? hello???? this was so good??? the characterization of alex alone was amazing, and the rest was like the cherry on top!!

❀ convallaria majalis - @nightingale-ghost-writer

19.2k words of absolute perfection. a fic i have been looking forward to and now that it's out, i just can't get enough of it! did i have to take breaks while reading so i could twirl my hair and kick my feet? yes. was it worth every second? yes.

Arthur Morgan

❀ the fire in your eyes || part VII: horseshoe overlook iii | part VIII: horseshoe overlook iv | part IX: horseshoe overlook v - @cowboydisaster

if there's one character i love more than anything in the world, it's arthur morgan and this series has only made my love for him that much stronger. so beautifully written, i couldn't stop reading-the whole time with a smile on my face. the entire bar scene in part vii??? i was crying with laughter. this is def one of my fav series i've ever read and i am on the edge of my seat waiting for more!

Carlos Oliveira

❀ the way we let it stay - @uselsshuman

this is a fair warning right now that most of the resident evil fics on this list are going to be from em. she has single-handedly ignited my hyperfixation for RE and all of her fics are incredible. including this one!

❀ old wounds new loves - @uselsshuman

i love little cute domestic fics, and carlos is so real for not liking cereal. “Waking up and eating a bowl of cold soggy food? No, thank you.” i feel that on such a spiritual level. also protective!carlos is just the best!!

Javier Peña

❀ arepas - @mvtthewmurdvck

i know i already went feral over this fic, but i'm going to do it again because i love this fic so goddamn much!! this fic is incredible, the way everything feels so natural between javi and reader, the teasing, the friends to lovers trope, everything about this is just so beautiful!!

❀ a broken sight - @mvtthewmurdvck

i don't understand how you can write a character so perfectly. i will never not be amazed by the way you write javi. and the angst??? ugh "He’s here. Like you needed him to be." don't mind the noise that's just me sobbing in the corner.

❀ the dreams we made - @mvtthewmurdvck

there's nothing like a good ol' helping of jo angst. this hurt in all the right ways, completely ripped my heart out and shattered it only to put all the pieces back together again and fill the cracks in with gold.

❀ nowhere to run || file room + accusations | sunshine yellow | a new day - @mvtthewmurdvck

the series that got me into narcos, i actually started watching the show just so i could read the perfection that is this series!! am i potentially spoiling things for myself a little bit? yes, but it's absolutely worth it because this series has me by the throat.

Joel Miller

❀ want. - @mvtthewmurdvck

literal poetry best described by this gif:

John "Soap" MacTavish

❀ none lacking sins - @halcyone-of-the-sea

listen, i like soap. he's not my fav, but he's a really good character. this fic though? it's moved soap up to my top five favorite characters. this made me want to read nothing but soap. i must've read this a dozen times, i was immediately sent into a soap hyperfixation. every aspect of this fic is just amazing. stunning. perfect.

❀ the hanging tree - @writeforfandoms

had me on the edge of my damn seat trying to figure out what was going. the worry and the tension built up so wonderfully i was dying to know what was about to happen and omg i was not disappointed. and the way jen writes soap is just *chef's kiss*

❀ i will wait - @mvtthewmurdvck

this fic had me realize how much i crave soft!soap and just fluff with soap in general. the tender moments warm my heart up something fierce and make me all giddy. like waking up to the perfect sunrise.

John Price

❀ puppy love || one | two | three | four - @writeforfandoms

puppies and price? what more could someone ask for? these two are so cute together and with the added cuteness of the puppies (and gaz lol) it's just an overload of cuteness in the best possible way!

❀ scratches in the surface - @halcyone-of-the-sea

was not expecting a part two to one of my favorite price fics, but damn if this wasn't a fantastic surprise. the angst is top-tier here and as much as it hurt, i couldn't stop reading and will probably read it again a million more times.

❀ neon medusa || part 1: static in the airways | part 2: warning signs - @yeyinde

CYBERPUNK!AU????? WITH PRICE????? WRITTEN BY YEYINDE???? SIGN ME TF UP!!! i am feral, consumed by how excited i am for this series and how utterly fantastic it's been so far. i will never get tired of lev's fics, and how gorgeous her writing is.

❀ untitled - @lunarvicar

okay this was adorable. the way price drops everything to get to her apartment, immediately ready to protect her is just sooo perfect. and her being freaked out by ghost adventures?? asdasljlsjd relatable.

❀ untitled - @yeyinde

i live for domestic bliss, and this fic just scratched that itch so well. there's something so comforting and homey about this fic, just the quiet intimacy between price and reader, the cute back and forth, this line: “Gaz said I looked like an Edwardian lord—” an absolute comfort fic if i've ever read one.

❀ comforts of home - @halcyone-of-the-sea

this fic had me weak, literally struggling to read cause i was too busy looking like this at my phone

❀ barking dog - @yeyinde

jealous!price is not something i see often, but damn if i don't want to see more of it after reading this. i am obsessed with the way lev writes price, how real and natural and captivating he is in her fics.

❀ wicked pyre - @yeyinde

you can't just give me dragon!price and expect me not to love it. i am so feral for monster!au's and this is saldkjaslda i can't be normal after reading this, i am feral, so enraptured by this fic and the entire concept of dragon!price.

❀ origami boats - @halcyone-of-the-sea

a sequel to the best price fic of all time???? say less. this fic was in my top three before i even started reading, i just knew it was going to be good. well, it wasn't just good, it was great. stunning. heart-breaking in a way that gives you the best kind of hurt.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

❀ high hopes - @writeforfandoms

gaz my sweet mans. as one of my favorite characters, i tend to be picky with my gaz fics, but this fic right here? loved it. adored it. read it six times with a bigger smile on my face each time.

❀ cult of vagabonds || prologue | landless gull | snail & thrush - @halcyone-of-the-sea

not only is this a gaz series, but it's one written by halcyone who can never write a bad fic. this is immaculate. i can't even describe how much i love this series so far and how much i can't wait to see where it goes!

❀ boom - @sleepiexx

ok but like this was so good?? the tension, the desperation, the way gaz was so ready to die with her. i'm shook. and that ending???? i’m giggling, i’m blushing, i’m re-reading this fic a million more times.

Leon Kennedy

❀ leon kennedy masterlist - @uselsshuman

i'm gonna be real here for a second, this entire section was 99% made up of em's leon fics. i couldn't choose which ones to add, which ones were my favorite, because i loved them all. so i'm just putting a link to her leon masterlist, because every single one of those fics deserves to be seen and read and given all of the love that they deserve.

❀ enough || one | two | three | final - @uhlunaro

i have one word for this series: wow. just wow. i have never been more thankful to find a series after it was already done because i would've gone crazy waiting to see what happened next! which part was my favorite? all of them. every single one. the hurt, the dialogue, just the way leon is written. i'm speechless.

Simon "Ghost" Riley

❀ exit row || exit row, part iii | exit row, part iv- @lunarvicar

the phrase "post-dick flashback" will live rent free in my head until the day i die, i was wheezing. i'm convinced there isn't a character nat can't make me love, because her portrayal of ghost here?? 🔥🔥🔥

❀ happiness || diamond ring | fearless | - @lethalchiralium

more of my favorite family man!simon series!!!!!! yesssss!!!!! i swear with every new addition, i just love this series more and more. i am so stressed reading it, but i love every second of it.

❀ the effect you have - @mvtthewmurdvck

screaming, crying, throwing up. how do you do it, jo? how do manage to make me hurt and heal my heart so beautifully in every single fic? how dare you, but also thank you so much.

❀ the captain || part 6 | part 7 | thunder - @as-is-above-so-below

omg i can't. y'all can't just keep giving a+ quality family man!ghost fics and expect me to be normal. you can't just give me cute shit like:

“Gaz frug.”

and not expect me to be like:

also, i am absolutely in love with freyja. the way her relationship is written with ghost and the kids is so lovely and has me kicking my feet and twirling my hair.

❀ ghost at the beginning of your relationship - @angelltheninth

cute. adorable. sweet. i love me some good fluff and even more so soft!ghost and this was the perfect combination of both of them! and simon having "guard dog energy" is so funny and so correct.

❀ ménage || refuge | resolution - @lilywastaken

my new go-to for simon fics. the relationship between simon and reader and between simon and the 141 are both so great. and oh my god that wild ride of emotions i went during part five had me stressed tf out i couldn't stop reading! such a great and fun series.

❀ making progress - @constantcrisis19

"dragged into the CoD fandom kicking and screaming" and still delivering an absolutely amazing fic. the teasing, the small talk, the faint smile?? incredible. the entire conversation about powerful music?? fantastic.

[maskedteaser]

Hello! Is it possible I could get a matchup for RDR2?

I'm very shy when I first meet people, but as soon as I get comfy I'm playful and love making jokes. I only have a few friends because it's hard for me to talk to people and get to know them, usually people have to tell me that I'm their friend otherwise I'm completely lost. I LOVE animals, completely love them. If I could, I would buy a barn just to have horses, goats, cows- anything. I also love nature but it's harder for me to go out in it often because I live in a dense city. My hobbies are drawing, reading, writing (not as much in recent years), and listening/creating small little music tunes. I struggle with feelings of jealousy and self-doubt a lot, which means I isolate myself when I feel like someone is upset at me after I apologize 20x times. I have a really bad guilt complex, which means I basically feel guilty for anything and everything I do to the point it makes me ill. I'm also extremely touchy with my partners/friends, I love spending quality time with them as well as giving 100 hugs if they allow me lol.

I hope this all works! ^^

I just noticed you sent another inbox message that you have a preference for man. Thx for that. If anyone else is reading it - please keep in mind to always put your preferances in requests !!

Let's get started!

firstly, let me just say why I didn't choose other characters!

❝ I LOVE animals, completely love them ❞

Well...Let's just say that...MICAH BELL hates animals. The way he treated Cain is my best proof. He probably wouldn't care about any animal and could kill any animal just because he'd feel it's fun...

❝ I struggle with feelings of jealousy and self-doubt a lot ❞

JOHN MARSTON wouldn't understand you, he wouldn't know how to calm you down, how to make you stop apologizing for everything. It would probably annoy him. John is not an empathetic person, well, not much at least, and you seem to need a really empathetic partner.

❝ I have a really bad guilt complex, which means I basically feel guilty for anything and everything I do to the point it makes me ill. ❞

And DUTCH VAN DER LINDE would probably make you feel even worse. Constantly trying to manipulate you, to make you feel like you're only worthy when you're with him, and when you're alone - you ruin everything. If you're into toxic relationships - sure, but I hope you'd run away from him and his gaslighting words AS FAST AS YOU CAN.

NOW FOR A BIG MOMENT...DUM DUM DUM...

ARTHUR MORGAN

I actually thought that I'd never match anyone with Arthur, since I wanted to not be too boring, like...Putting the main character seems like a really obvious, boring choice, but you really seem to make a good match for him!

He loves animals, just like you, do you even remember how he treats his horse? How broken he was when his horse got shot in the epilogue? (i hope you saw the epilogue and i'm not spoiling you anything............)

You both love drawing! That's a great place to start, right? You're both shy when meeting new people, but you could compliment each other's drawings, teach each other new things and draw portraits of each other. What a cute date idea!

There would never be a reason for you to be jealous, since when he falls in love, he falls HARD. Mary Linton? Who was that? Since he found you, he's not intrested in anyone else. He's a patient man, he'd always encourage you that you are not guilty of anything. But Arthur has the same problem as you, he also feels guilty for everything so you'd have to make sure he feels appreciated and loved. Please, make him feel loved :( You are touchy and I believe that he'd love to hold hands with you whenever he could...

thx for reading :) much love <3 signed TEASER 👽👽👽