#red dead redemption

[heartsickspider]

(soft) arthur morgan aftercare headcanons <3

arthur immediately cocoons the two of you in blankets after sex, regardless of how hot and sweaty the both of you are.

touch, touch, touch - he wants to hold you close and feel your skin against his. gentle forehead kisses, tracing soft patterns across your body with his calloused fingers, braiding your hair, spooning, etc.

despite not being super verbal for a long while after sex, arthur will ask to make sure you're okay in that raspy drawl of his. "you alright, darlin'? i didn't hurt ya, did i?" he's a bit overbearing with it, but he just can't stand the thought of accidentally harming you in any way.

arthur always takes the opportunity to sketch you in your blissed-out and half-lidded state. pages of his journal are dedicated to drawings of you curled up in bed next to him flushed, sleepy, and content as hell.

acts of service - arthur does everything in his power to make you feel comfortable afterwards. he'll get you water or food, clean you up with a cool washcloth or draw a bath, massage your sore muscles... literally anything.

sometimes, arthur will hum softly as the two of you are cuddling.

this man definitely keeps some salve on hand for any love bites or marks he might have left on you.

arthur reads to you to help you fall asleep afterwards. he knows how much you love hearing his inner thoughts through his journal entries, so oftentimes he'll read you a recent passage. other times, he'll read from a book the two of you are enjoying together.

also, he definitely uses your chest as a pillow (he’s a silly man that loves boobs).

a/n: i love soft arthur sm, he consumes 98% of my thoughts 😔 howeverrr, i’m thinking of potentially writing some low-honor arthur stuff as well?? idk why that makes me so nervous lol, but lmk if you'd like a low-honor version of this and i will try 👀

[r0galekk]

my beautiful wife sadie adler

[queenofsf]

took someone's screenshot from pinterest and draw Arthur with watercolor

and try to draw without focusing on details and use texture brushes

[meemerdevil]

LETSV FUCKIN GOOOOOOOOOOO

My favorite stranger missions

[jenarosscity]

She's so sweet to him I can't

😭

[sunnycrisp]

It happens

original below

[kunnus]

In the Quiet

Arthur Morgan x Belle Nelson (oc)

Belle reads to Arthur on a quiet afternoon, but he’s more interested in listening to her than the story itself.

An : This is a story I’ve been keeping to myself for a long time, and now I’m finally ready to share it. I hope you all enjoy reading about Belle and Arthur!

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows over camp as Belle made her way toward the wooden fence where Arthur stood. He was leaning against it, one arm draped lazily over the top rail, his hat tipped just low enough to shadow his eyes. From the way he held himself, she could tell his mind was elsewhere—lost in some thought he’d never share aloud.

She hesitated for a moment, then tightened her grip on the book in her hands and stepped closer.

“Arthur,” Belle called his name softly, her blue eyes shining with quiet excitement.

His gaze flickered toward her, slow and steady. He didn’t say anything—he rarely did unless there was something worth saying—but his eyes lingered, waiting.

Belle shifted her weight, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “I want to read you something.”

Arthur raised an eyebrow but gave a small nod, wordlessly telling her to go on.

She exhaled, flipping the book open to a marked page. The passage had stuck with her the first time she read it, and for some reason, she wanted to share it with him. Maybe he’d think it was foolish. Maybe he wouldn’t care. But Arthur was one of the few people who never dismissed her for loving stories, and that was enough.

So she started reading, her voice carrying the weight of the words, letting them settle into the quiet between them.

Arthur didn’t interrupt, didn’t shift away. He just watched her, listening—not to the book, maybe, but to her. Watching the way her lips moved around each word, the way her eyes flickered with quiet emotion. Belle wasn’t sure what he was thinking, but he wasn’t looking away.

When she finally reached the end of the passage, she closed the book and looked up at him expectantly.

“So…?” she asked. “What do you think?”

Arthur was silent for a long moment before his lips quirked into something just shy of a smile. “Sounds good.”

Belle let out a soft laugh. “That’s all?”

He shrugged. “I like hearing you talk more than hearing you read.”

Her breath caught in her throat for just a second, warmth creeping into her face before she quickly turned away, pretending to focus on the setting sun. “That so?”

Arthur didn’t answer, but when she leaned against the fence beside him, he didn’t move away either. Instead, they stayed there in the quiet, letting the moment stretch between them—unspoken, understood.

[kayakiki]

RDR CHARACTERS IN WATER PARK | Headcanons

Characters: Arthur Morgan, John Marston, Dutch Van Der Linde, Hosea Matthews, Javier Escuella, Charles Smith, Sean McGuire, Sadie Adler, Lenny Summers, Bill Williamson, Micah Bell, Jack Marston

Warning(s): swearing, mentions of violence (nothing serious)

 Arthur Morgan

Hates the idea of going but somehow gets dragged along.

Sits under an umbrella, fully clothed, eating overpriced hot dogs and muttering about "this whole thing bein’ a scam."

Secretly enjoys it but refuses to admit it.

Ends up having to save Jack (and his father) from the deep pool at least once.

Eventually gives in and goes down one big slide—yells the whole way but claims it was "fine."

John Marston

Acts like he's too good for waterparks but gets excited like a kid when he sees the slides.

Tries to show off by diving but bellyflops hard.

Constantly gets water in his eyes and rubs them dramatically while cursing.

Gets stuck in a tube slide and has to awkwardly crawl out.

Arthur warns him not to do something stupid—he does it anyway and regrets it immediately.

 Dutch van der Linde

Insists on wearing a fancy robe and sunglasses, claiming he has a "plan" to maximize fun.

Tries to convince the lifeguards that VIP and welness section should be free for a "man of his stature."

Takes over the hot tub like it's his personal throne

Gets mad when someone splashes him and storms off to sunbathe dramatically.

 Sadie Adler

First in line for the biggest, most dangerous slides.

Races kids up the stairs to get there first.

Does cannonballs into the pool and soaks everyone.

Bullies John into going on a slide he’s scared of, then laughs at his screams.

Starts an all-out water gun war and shows no mercy.

Javier Escuella

Casually floats in the lazy river, looking effortlessly cool.

Brings a guitar and tries to serenade women by the pool.

Somehow convinces the staff to let him drink margaritas in the hot tub.

Calls everyone else "ridiculous" while wearing stylish swim trunks and designer sunglasses.

Ends up sunbathing for way too long and gets horribly sunburned.

Charles Smith

Comes for the relaxation, stays because someone has to make sure nobody dies.

Ends up watching Jack, making sure he doesn't drown or get kidnapped by Dutch’s "fun plans."

Enjoys the sauna and hot tub but never stays in one place long because there’s always some chaos happening.

The only person who properly re-applies sunscreen and avoids sunburn.

Leaves early because "this place is too loud."

 Bill Williamson

Refuses to wear sunscreen, turns bright red within an hour.

Complains that the water is "too cold" but eventually jumps in and splashes everyone like an overgrown toddler.

Somehow gets banned from the wave pool for roughhousing.

Gets stuck in an inner tube and yells at Javier to help him.

Ends up passed out in a deck chair, snoring loudly with a beer in hand.

 Micah Bell

Pushes people into the pool when they least expect it.

Tries to start fights with lifeguards for no reason.

Steals someone’s sandals and throws them into the water for no reason.

Cuts in line at the slides and pretends he didn’t hear people yelling at him.

Somehow convinces Dutch to start a ridiculous waterpark heist plan that obviously fails.

 Hosea Matthews

Brings a nice straw hat, sunglasses, and a book to actually relax.

Laughs at everyone else making fools of themselves.

Ends up helping Charles babysit because he’s the only responsible one.

Tries the wave pool once, gets tossed around mercilessly, and decides never again.

Buys a ridiculous amount of gifts and suveniers for Jack

Jack Marston

Runs everywhere even when the lifeguards tell him to stop.

Gets lost at least three times.

Wants to go on every ride but then chickens out halfway up the stairs.

Eats way too much ice cream and ends up with a stomachache.

Arthur begrudgingly carries him around at some point.

Sean MacGuire

Yells "WATER’S GRAND, LADS!" before doing the worst cannonball imaginable.

Purposely bellyflops off the diving board just to make everyone laugh.

Challenges people to races down the slides, then cheats by shoving them aside.

Tries to hit on lifeguards but gets ignored (or threatened with removal).

Steals Bill’s sunscreen just to watch him burn.

Somehow gets himself and Micah kicked out of the wave pool within an hour.

 Lenny Summers

The only one who actually enjoys the waterpark like a normal person.

Loves the slides, the lazy river, the wave pool—he’s doing it all.

Races Sadie up the slide stairs and actually beats her once.

Gets caught in Sean’s nonsense at least three times but somehow never gets in trouble for it.

Ends up convincing Arthur to go on at least one slide and cheers when he actually does it.

Ends the day relaxed, slightly sunburned, and ready to come back sometimes

______________________________________________________________

Short story

.

It started as Dutch’s brilliant idea.

"Now, boys and girls" he said, standing at the entrance of the water park, adjusting his sunglasses like he owned the place. "We work hard. We struggle. But today, we relax. Today, we reclaim what is rightfully ours—a good time."

Arthur groaned. "Dutch, it’s a damn waterpark, not a heist."

"Everythin’ in life’s a heist, Arthur."

That was the last thing Dutch said before storming off toward the entrance, attempting to negotiate a "gang discount" with the cashier.

.

John insisted he wasn’t scared of the big slides. "I got this," he bragged, climbing the stairs to The Devil’s Drop, a near-vertical water slide.

Sadie smirked. "Go on then, tough guy."

John sat at the edge, gripping the rails. "Ain’t nothin’ to it."

"Sir, you need to let go," the lifeguard said.

John inhaled deeply. Released his grip.

And then—absolute regret.

His scream could be heard through the entire park. He hit the water so hard he disappeared for a second. When he finally surfaced, sputtering, Sean and Lenny were doubled over laughing.

Sadie clapped. "Good job, John! You looked real brave up there!"

"Shut up, Adler" John muttered, dragging himself out of the pool.

.

Sean, fueled by pure adrenaline and zero caution, challenged everyone to a race down the tube slides. "Bet none o’ ye can beat me!"

He shoved past Javier, ignored Bill’s warnings about "doin’ somethin’ stupid," and leaped into the slide face-first.

The problem?

Sean didn’t fit properly.

He got stuck halfway down.

For a full minute, the only sound coming from the slide was distant Irish swearing.

Then—he came flying out at the speed of death, tumbling into the pool like a ragdoll.

Javier, sipping a margarita, nodded. "That was tragic, amigo."

Bill just sighed. "I told him."

.

Arthur had zero intention of getting in the water. He sat under an umbrella, eating his third overpriced hot dog, muttering about how the park was a scam.

Then, Jack tugged at his sleeve.

"Arthur, will you go on the lazy river with me?"

Arthur sighed. "Fine. But only the lazy river."

A few minutes later, Arthur was floating in an inner tube, arms crossed, looking as grumpy as humanly possible.

"See?" Jack grinned. "It’s nice, huh?"

Arthur grunted. Then—SPLOOSH.

A tidal wave crashed over him.

"SEAN, YOU BASTA—"

Sean cackled as he sprinted off, having deliberately capsized Arthur with a cannonball.

Arthur climbed out of the water, dripping, murderous. "You’re dead."

.

Meanwhile, Dutch had fully taken over the VIP hot tub.

"This," he sighed, lounging with his sunglasses on, "is freedom, gentlemen."

The other guests in the hot tub, who had paid for access, looked deeply uncomfortable.

"Sir," a staff member said, "you’re not supposed to be here."

Dutch sat up. "Son, I am supposed to be here. See, I had a vision—"

"Sir, get out."

"...I have a plan."

"Sir."

Dutch sighed dramatically and reluctantly left, but not before whispering to Hosea, "This place is a prison."

.

Unlike the rest of the gang, who were already embarrassing themselves, Javier made himself comfortable by the main pool, ordering a margarita from the bar.

"Now this" he sighed, stretching out on a lounge chair, "is how you enjoy life."

It was all going well—until Sean showed up.

"Oi, Javier!" Sean slammed himself into the chair next to him, dripping wet. "Ye sittin’ ‘round flirtin’ with yerself, or ye gonna actually get in the water?"

Javier didn’t even look at him. "Some of us know how to enjoy a vacation properly."

Sean snorted. "Oh aye? Is that why you’re starin’ at that lass over there?"

Javier was indeed watching a beautiful woman lounging by the pool, flipping through a book. She looked up, meeting his gaze with a small smile.

Javier smirked. "I have charm, Sean. Something you wouldn’t understand."

Sean rolled his eyes. "Aye, well, go on then, Casanova. Let’s see it in action."

Javier pushed his sunglasses up and got to his feet, adjusting his shirt. He strolled over to the woman with all the confidence of a man who had never been rejected in his life.

Unfortunately, Bill chose this exact moment to slip on a puddle and fall directly into Javier, sending him crashing into the pool.

Javier surfaced, coughing, while Sean and Lenny absolutely lost it on the sidelines.

"Dios mío, Bill!" Javier wiped water from his face, glaring up at him.

Bill, still lying on the wet pavement, groaned. "Ain’t my fault!"

The woman Javier had been eyeing burst out laughing, trying to hide her face with the book she is reading.

Javier just sighed, running a hand through his soaked hair.

Sean patted his shoulder. "Better luck next time, lover boy."

Javier just splashed him in the face.

.

Micah, unsurprisingly, got banned immediately.

Within minutes of entering the water park, he had: - Started a splash war with random strangers - Attempted to ride Bill like a human floatie - Thrown a kid’s sandal into the lazy river

"Aw, c’mon, I was just havin’ fun," Micah complained as two lifeguards dragged him out.

"Sir, this is not the Wild West!"

"It damn well could be!"

He was banned. For life. (Much to everyone's relief)

.

While everyone else was causing mayhem, Lenny was actually having fun like a normal person.

He went on every ride. He actually listened to the rules. He even convinced Arthur to go down one slide.

Arthur screamed the entire way.

When Lenny saw Dutch dramatically sulking after being kicked out of the hot tub, he just sighed. "Why can’t we just have one normal day?"

.

By the time the park was closing, everyone was sunburned, exhausted, and soaked.

Bill was lobster-red. Sean was limping. John was still fuming over his failed dive.

Dutch sighed, arms crossed. "I had bigger dreams for today."

Arthur rubbed his temples. "Dutch, we got banned from the wave pool, lost Jack for twenty minutes, and nearly drowned Sean. What more did you want?"

Dutch shook his head. "A waterpark of our own."

Arthur groaned. "We’re leaving."

And so, the Van der Linde gang left the water park —wet, sunburned, and banned from at least two attractions.

Would they return? Probably not.

Would Sean try to sneak back in?

Absolutely.

[frillydolle]

(not 100% sure if my ask sent since my internet sucks… but once more just in case-)

young!arthur having his true first time w young!reader (arthur is around 22, reader is like 19. both are in the gang)

obv arthur has slept w prostitutes before this, but they had always done all the work. now, when arthur is actually about to have sex w someone, the guy has little to no clue what he’s doing 😭

TYSM IF YOU DO IT <3333

꒰ ୨ৎ ꒱　 ──　 mdni nsfw　 femreader　 arthur has no ides what he's doing 　 you don't either.

arthur morgan. a young, rugged, and outlawish man merely in his early twenties. he was young, but he was so free, running away from lawmen as swift as an arrow, being too quick and witty to catch proper. although he may not have the silver tongue from his old mentor, dutch, but he has the wit to run away subtly, like his other mentor, hosea. despite his rough and callous appearance, he wasn't unknown to women and... working women. in fact, many of the girls wouldn't tease each other on who could get a certain cowboys attention.

they would all lead the intimacy, arthur would lie down on the cot and take it, since that's what working girls were paid to do, right? and he'd let them do their work, over and over. he'd pay well, and god, did they always make him feel good, no doubt about it. how he'd lay on the hotel bed as the women would unbutton his blue shirt in such a slow, teasing way─ then again, this was just again to take his mind off mary. damn that women...

that all changed once he met you. oh, how he was head over heels in love with you for days until he confessed that he was sweet on you, and even so, you've never seen a burly man get so flushed over you!

you were younger, nineteen, to be exact. knowing this, arthur was unsure of how to act around you, too nervy and in love. that journal of his was filled of pages with ur sktehced face. he was a little scared of physical contact until you initiated it first and now he's arm is never seen away from being around your waist. he was soo nervous to even kiss you incase you didnt want to:( he was just scared of making you uncomfortable since that's the last thing he wanted to do.

“'m sorry, honey... i never really done this before.”

“thank goodness, i haven't done this either. we'll just.. take it slow?”

despite the maany times you've told him that he's fine, that he's doing well, you can tell he was still a little anxious of doing something wrong, he wanted this to be right for you, he just wanted to make you feel... well, good. this might be this first time, but he wanted to impress you badly.

and oh.

oh.

this was like your own slice of heaven. he was so good despite that he no idea what he was doing. the way he held you with such delicacy. his hands weren't firm they were gentle, he didn't want to hurt you, he wouldn't know how to act if he did. his hands would trace up and down your body, leaving goosebumps in his wake. his callous were rough and yet his touch was tenderly with you. he took his sweet time with you, arthur was determined to work his feelings within you even if he wasn't sure if he was doing well, he had to make sure.

“does that.. feel good, sweetheart?” “that okay, darlin'?” “hope i ain't too rough fir ya.” “yer so good to me, yer a good girl.”

“mhm─ oh, arthuurr.. feels so good, oh my god─”

and that's exactly what he wanted to hear.

[ezjiik]

HE'S MY SONNNNN

[0ddevilz]

Red Dead Redemption’s cover art in my style

There is a HQ version to download on my Ko-fi, also my commissions are open! 

[fr4nkt]

New chibi designs

I liked how it looked with my oc x Javier so I tried that style with Arthur and John🫶

[r0galekk]

my little pony fanart

[mentally-ill-simp]

I keep his photo on my watch like a husband who's gone off to war and keeps a photo of his wife with him

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 6: CUP YOUR MOUTH & WHISPER YOUR SECRETS

synopsis: you confess something to charles, but you don't know how he'll take the truth.

word count: 2.6k

ships: Arthur Morgan/Modern!Reader, Van der Linde Gang & Reader

notes: sorry for how short it is but the chap kinda wrapped up on its own lul

TOSoA taglist: @one-green-frog , @photo1030 , @mavenhavenn , @its-yummi , @fatherbangboo , @shackspossum , @swedesfics , @literallyrousseau , @xprloki , @pedifero (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask <3!!)

THE OLD SOUL OF AMERICA MASTERLIST

One hard truth is staring you dead in the face: you don’t know how to survive on your own.

Bronya’s – your new horse (newly stolen, but who cares?) – saddlebags were filled with cured meat and other foodstuffs, but when that runs out, you’ll have to return to the gang. You’re embarrassed by your outburst… or was it a tantrum? You’re not sure how to classify it, but looking back at your actions makes you cringe.

You’re not sure why. It was a long time coming. And, honestly? Arthur Morgan could go fuck a cactus, for all you cared. You once hoped that his next cigarette would be laced with fent, then immediately scolded yourself for doing too much. You don’t even know if fentanyl exists yet.

But you do know nature exists. You know you exist. The river before you exists, and the pebbles in your hand exist. Bronya exists, and she’s grazing on grass that exists, too.

You throw a pebble into the water and immediately feel bad. It spent decades, maybe even centuries, getting to shore. And then you come along and toss it back in. A big, fat ‘fuck you’ to years of hard work.

The rest of the pebbles fall from your hand and you collapse onto the rocky shore. You’re a grown adult, but you want nothing more than to wail and kick and scream like a kid that didn’t get their way. No one pities you as you wish to be pitied.

Would I even accept their care? You ask yourself. No. I’d need an excuse. Maybe if I was sick… If I was sick, I’d be petted and comforted and doted on. But I’m not. I’m a grown adult – practically a parent to Sere. And I haven’t seen her in so long…

Your eyes burn with tears and there’s no one around to stop them or to shame you into finding an excuse for them. They flow down your face freely as you let out ugly, hiccuped sobs. You pull your knees up to your chest and grit your teeth and try to stay quiet.

You can’t catch your breath. You feel like you’re suffocating.

You were so angry yesterday. So angry and so, so violent. And what scares you the most is that it felt good.

You’re pretty sure you gauged that guy’s eye out while he had you in a headlock. If you didn’t, you sure as hell hurt him pretty bad. There was so much blood running down his face… And the man you hit with a chair? What if he’s paralyzed? That’s something you learned pretty damn early – never hit someone in the back unless you want to be sued.

Your own words echo in your head: “Yeah, you like that, don’t you? Yeah!”

You feel horrible. You were suffocating that man. You put him in a sleeper hold – yeah, a pretty boomer move when it comes to WWE, but fucking deadly in a street fight. You could’ve killed him.

That truth makes you want to throw up. But you don’t have the time to wallow in your own misery. You can’t afford to throw a little pity party because you’re a grown adult with grown adult responsibilities. You owe it to the gang to at least try.

But trying is so fucking hard, you think. Can’t I lay face-down in this puddle and pretend I’m drowning in an ocean for a little longer?

You’re startled by someone calling your name. You stand quickly, wiping your face before you turn around.

Charles is sitting atop Taima, one hand on the reins and a worried look on his face.

“Charles.” You clear your throat of the phlegm that comes with crying. “What’re you doing here?”

“Looking for you,” he says. “Arthur said you just stormed off yesterday. Everyone’s worried sick.”

“Everyone?” You echo, then laugh. “I doubt that.”

Charles sighs through his nose and looks over at Bronya. “Whose horse is that?”

“Mine,” you say. “I just… stole her, I guess. Her name is Bronya.”

“Bronya?” He repeats back.

You click your tongue twice and Bronya trots over to you. You hold your hand out and she sniffs at it.

“Bronya, yeah,” you say. “It’s Russian – short for Bronislava. But Bronislava’s kinda long, so…”

“I’m not even sure I know where Russia is,” Charles says.

You laugh softly. “It’s a big country, on the other side of Europe. I’ve never been, but everything I’ve read says it’s very cold.”

Charles dismounts and takes a tiny little sugar cube from Tiama’s saddlebag. He moves over to Bronya and holds it out on a flat hand. She eagerly eats it up, licking and sniffing at his hand for more.

You smile and pat her neck. “Hey, she’s my horse. Don’t steal her from me.”

“I’m not trying to.” He smiles and scratches the corner of Bronya’s jaw.

A nice silence falls. Bronya seems to be very content with all the attention she’s getting from you and Charles. Hopefully you can give her a better life than the man you stole her from gave her.

Charles breaks the quiet with a simple question. “How’re you holding up?”

A rush of new emotion floods your system and you look away, biting the inside of your lip to keep it from trembling. You let out a shaky sigh.

“Honestly?” You laugh wetly. “I’m so confused. I don’t know what’s going on.”

He looks over at you. “How do you mean?”

You think for a moment, then hold out your pinkie. “You need to pinkie promise not to tell anyone else.”

Charles looks at you weirdly, then holds out his pinkie. You hook it with his and hold it.

“I think…” You swallow thickly.

Tell him! Your mind yells at you. Tell him. If he doesn’t believe you, you’ll have an excuse not to try anymore. If he says you’re a liar, you can give up and lay on the ground and let whatever powers that may be take you.

You say the words before you can stop yourself. “I think I’m from the future.”

Charles stares at you. He doesn’t do anything, doesn’t say anything, doesn’t unhook his pinkie from yours.

You break the connection and step back. “Or – or maybe I had a… a dream. A really realistic dream. I think, maybe – I ate something bad. Something rotted, with… with mold.”

“No. Stop.” Charles holds up a hand.

“No, it was stupid!” You force a laugh. “A… stupid prank. I got you good! You should’ve seen your face.”

Charles says your name with a sternness you haven’t heard from him before. It makes you stop and snap your jaw shut before you dig yourself deeper into this hole of… you don’t even know what to call it.

“Are you telling me the truth?”

Your face starts to turn hot, but you still nod. “I am. I – I thought this was a… dream, or a coma, or something. But I think it’s more than that.”

Charles thinks for a moment. “How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I, um…” You pat your pockets. “I have things from the future. If you wanna see them.”

He nods, and you pull out your wallet. You open it and pull out a card.

“This is a credit card,” you say. “It has a wireless connection to my bank account. When I buy something, it automatically… gives money to whoever I’m buying something from. I don’t know – it’s way more complicated than that, but I don’t really get how it works.”

Charles gingerly takes your credit card and looks it over. He reads your name on the front, then flips it over and looks at the back and the string of numbers decorating it.

“It’s made out of plastic,” you say. “Just… in case you’re wondering. I don’t think it’s been invented yet.”

Charles looks up at you through his long eyelashes. “Do you want to go back?”

You open your mouth, but the words don’t come to you. Do you want to go back to the future? For all your fantasizing and hoping and wishing, you’re not so sure.

“I… don’t know,” you admit. “I love my family, and they’re in the future, but… it’s so chaotic. Everything’s concrete – which is just a boring grey rock. I hate it. But here, it’s so… beautiful. There’s so much nature.”

“There’s violence everywhere – Natives are being herded onto reservations, and every colorphobic makes it well-known that they hate Blacks,” he says. “How can the future be worse than what’s happening right now?”

You huff out a sarcastic-sounding laugh. “First, the planet’s on fire. There’s people going into schools and shooting children for… a fucking thrill, I guess. You have to take on debt to survive. Slavery’s back, but they just call it a prison system. And colorphobia is still just as rampant as it is back today –  though it’s just called racism now. Do you really need to hear more?”

Charles’ lip curls back just the slightest bit in disgust. “The future sounds horrible.”

“It is,” you say. “Trust me, it is.”

You pause for a moment, then say softly: “You can’t even see the stars.”

An indescribable sadness washes over you. It’s as strong as a tidal wave and as potent as a toxin. You can’t even see the stars.

The intrinsic human right of being able to look up at the sky and wonder had been stripped of you. And you didn’t even know how bad it was until you were granted that right, wholly and freely. The right to see the night sky, beautiful and unabashed. A million silver nails driven into dark blue velvet…

“Here…” You blink back a fresh wave of tears. “Here, the night sky is so clear. It’s like I could reach out and grab a handful of stars. Maybe I could keep them in a jar like fireflies.”

“Why can’t you see them in the future?” Charles asks.

“A ton of things,” you say. “Smog, too many lights… you might just not have the time to look. There’s so much shit going on that you can’t even catch your breath.”

You swallow whatever sorrow is in your throat and push on like nothing’s wrong. “But it’s over a hundred years in the future. You don’t need to worry about that. Or, hopefully you don’t, because… well, it’s sounding like I hope you die, but, uh… I don’t want that. I don’t think anyone wants that.”

You let out a nervous laugh and glance over at Charles. He’s unaffected.

“I, uh… seriously.” You reach out and put a hand on his upper arm. Even through the fabric of his shirt, his bicep is big and warm. “Don’t die. You’re… I don’t know how to say it. You tell it how it is. And… and I appreciate you. Life with the rest of the gang would be… well, it’d be a lot harder without you.”

You pat his upper arm awkwardly, then pull away. You handled that with all the finesse of a parent giving “the birds and the bees” talk. Hopefully Charles thinks it’s endearing and not weird.

“Have you found anything out about Sean?” You ask, if only to dissipate the awkward air you’ve created.

“Trelawny was telling the truth,” Charles says. “Sean’s being held on a boat somewhere in Blackwater. He and Javier are following leads, trying to find it.”

“It sounds like they’ve narrowed it down.” You stroke Bronya’s mane absentmindedly. “That’s good.”

You glance over at Charles to see him still staring at your credit card. You suppose that’s a reasonable response to seeing something that you have no understanding of.

“Are you gonna tell anyone?” You ask quietly.

“You asked me not to,” Charles says. “Why would I?”

“I don’t know,” you mumble. “I feel like I’m lying by omission. But there’s also, um…”

You suddenly feel really worried, like you just know something bad is going to happen. You feel like you’re a twenty-watt bulb next to the lights of Broadway. Small, insignificant – maybe there’s something even wrong with you.

“But there’s what?” Charles prompts.

“Do you – do you believe in, like… I don’t know.” You let out a nervous laugh. “Do you believe in God? Or reincarnation?”

“I’m not sure,” he says. “Do you?”

“I don’t know either,” you say. “But I know I’m not from here. And if I’m not from here, how am I physically here? Well… I think, maybe…”

You swallow thickly. “I think I’m someone else. I’m not myself, but I’m not them, either. I’ve never worked for Happy Trails Caravan, but I remember going to Zion Canyon and meeting with the tribes. I have memories of leading my mules down into the canyon… but I didn’t do that. Someone else did. It’s…”

You look over at Charles. He’s looking at you expectantly.

You whisper: “It’s like I’m inhabiting their body. Like a ghost. And I’m leeching off their memories – continuing a life that isn’t mine.”

A hot feeling of something between shame and anger overwhelms you the moment you finish speaking. It catches in your throat and makes it hard to breathe.

“But i-it doesn’t make sense,” you manage. “Because I look the same, and I have my wallet. I had the clothes I was wearing when I was… I was shot, and then I woke up in that cabin in the Grizzlies.”

You sigh heavily, like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders. As far as you’re concerned, you do. Grappling between what you know and what you can only speculate on is tough and time-consuming and might just lead you to spiral.

“Maybe going for a ride will get your mind off things,” Charles says. He hands you your card and gives your shoulder a single pat. “Mount up.”

You do as he says. Again, it’s easy, even though you only mounted a horse for the first time yesterday. That other person is bleeding into the now with all these little reminders, and it might just drive you crazy.

Charles spurs Taima, and you spur Bronya to match her pace. The air is clear, the sky is devoid of clouds, and the breeze is strong but not overpowering.

You’re not sure where you’re riding to – you’re just following Charles. But you don’t really pay any mind to that. The grasses around you are native and grow tall. The trees tower above you, the branches untamed and the leaves catching every bit of sunlight they can. The sound of the abundant wildlife is both alarming and soothing. You can hear coyotes yipping, but it’s far away. The sound of birdsong is much closer and clearer.

“You know,” you say after a while of silence. “There’s one thing I miss. Besides my family, I mean.”

“What’s that?” Charles asks.

“Music,” you say. “There was so much music everywhere. People played it while traveling, in their houses, in restaurants… And people even invented new instruments, like drum kits and electric guitars. But it’s so quiet here.”

“Sounds loud,” he says.

“I guess, yeah,” you say softly. “I still miss it, though.”

The conversation comes and goes, and you don’t feel like putting in more effort. Another nice quiet falls. The only sounds are Bronya and Taima’s hooves hitting the ground, the breeze through the leaves, and the chatter of animals hiding in the grasses.

Maybe Charles was right. The future is pretty horrible. This entire riding trail could be a parking lot a hundred years from now. And it’s not like you did anything to refute it – you just added on and talked about the atrocities that come with modernization.

Maybe you could put off trying to get back for a little while more. It’s not like the future’s going anywhere. Is it?