#sean macguire rdr2

[nutluvs]

not sure if your requests are still open but I'd devour your take on how rdr characters would react to you giving them a hot lunch while they are hunting. Like they are sitting at the top of the hill with a hunting bow in their hands and you sneak up to them, handing them a hot meal prepared for them.

preferred characters are javier, sean and kieran but you can add your favourites as well, I will gladly read your take on that about any character! :)

also don't feel pressured if you don't feel like writing it! much love anyways, have a nice day :))

- 🦎

hot n' ready 🍰 various rdr2 characters x gn! reader

!! divider by animatedglittergraphics-n-more ♡ !! hi sweetheart ! i hope you're doing amazing today ! ♡ this is my favorite request i've gotten in ages ! it's so cute. thank you so much for sending it in. ♡ i'm so so sorry it took me so long to write, i've had like.. 0 motivation to write lately, and this is just to get back into it. i'm also very sorry if this sucks and if i didn't portray any of your favorites right, i'm only really used to writing a few characters. synopsis:bringing your dearest some good lunch you made just for him while he's out hunting. pairings (in order): ♡ charles smith ♡ arthur morgan ♡ javier escuella ♡ eagle flies ♡ sean macguire ♡ kieran duffy ♡ john marston ♡ the boy warnings: none, this is just fluff !! mentions: @pursuedbyamemoryy @deaddoedonoteat

charles smith:

he didn't expect it. at all.

although, that doesn't mean he didn't appreciate it.

when you crept up to him, his focus was entirely on the doe, whose head was tipped down to nibble at the grass beneath her hooves.

as soon as you prodded at him with the tip of your finger, he jolted and made a discontented, uncomfortable sound.

he was quick to whip around to see who it was, gripping his bow a little tighter, but when he realized it was you he visibly relaxed almost instantly.

he greets you and asks you what you have in your hands, disregarding the doe immediately. you were more important.

"a warm lunch, just for you. i know pearson's meals aren't so satisfying to eat, especially since they lack seasoning and any variation, so i made something of my own. i also made myself something, that way, we could have some lunch together.

when you say that, he feels his face go warm.

he has to clear his throat before attempting to tell you that you didn't have to do this for him and that he didn't want to be a waste of time, but you were quicker, promising him that he deserved a break from low quality food and that he deserved something nice.

so, now understanding you were absolutely sure, he takes his warm lunch from your hands with a smile, and you eat together underneath the shade of a tree, sharing conversation and warm, loving smiles.

arthur morgan:

he was a bit frustrated.

he had tried to get his hands on this damn buck for so long, but every time he'd try and shoot, the thing would get spooked off by quickly passersby.

so now, here he was, sat atop a hill, grumbling to himself about how irritating the prey was, fidgeting with an arrow and trying to calm himself down.

he had heard hoofbeats on the grass and quickly turned to see who it was, and as soon as he saw your face, all of his anger was gone. he put the arrow he held down onto the grass with his bow, and watched you approach. he noticed you had something in your hands.

"hey, darlin'. what's that you got in your hands?" he asks, watching you sit down beside him with a bit of a smile present on your features.

"some lunch for you. made it myself." you say, smiling bigger. "i figured you'd like something that isn't as bad as pearson's cooking... so i made that something."

arthur was a bit shocked, taking it from your hands when you held it out to him. he looked from the box up to you, unsure. "i don't deserve this, darlin', it's.. you didn't have to."

"i wanted to."

this makes his face go red, because he wouldn't really figure someone would want to do something like this for him. but it made him happy, and he really enjoyed your cooking. who knew you were so good?

javier escuella:

he's more of a fishing guy, so that might make it a little harder for you to reach him, but that doesn't deter you.

he went down to the dakota river to do some fishing, and he asked you to tag along, but you initially said no. he was a little sad about that.

however, when he was in the middle of wrapping a smallmouth bass so he could return it to camp, you prodded at his shoulder, causing him to yelp and drop the fish.

you apologized quickly, but he was quick to put the apology down. he wasn't mad at you, he could never be. plus, he insisted he should've been more aware of his surroundings.

after that, you handed him the lunch you made.

"querida, what's this?" he asks, inspecting it closely, as if unsure. it wasn't like you'd give him something that'd kill him, so he stopped his looking.

"a lunch i made for you, since pearson's cooking tastes like shit."

"it has a few of the meals you told me your mother used to make you, and i wanted to sorta give you some sense of home. i hope my cooking is as good as hers, and that i captured the flavors right."

his heart warms, and he feels a bit of a hitch in his breath. you took the time out of your day to make him one of the dishes from home? oh, you were just the sweetest.

he holds the lunch carefully as he brings you into a hug and kisses your cheek, thanking you before quickly sitting down to enjoy what you picked to make him.

eagle flies:

today's hunt had been very successful, and he was proud of that.

he had managed to shoot down some rabbits, and he wanted to finish off a deer as well. he found it most refreshing when he did this.

when you came over the hill, he was poised to shoot, rough fingertips pulling back on the string of his bow.

you decided to stay quiet, watching him release the string and puncture the unaware doe's neck. you smiled when he released a pleased sigh, standing to go collect the arrow and the fresh kill.

"that was a good one," you say, spotting him turn and smile right back at you. "thank you." he replies. he'd known you were there, but he had already gotten the opportunity for a perfect shot, so he didn't greet you despite how bad he'd wanted to.

you watched him pluck the arrow from the carcass and hoist it over his shoulder, bringing it back to his horse before helping you down from yours.

"so, why'd you come?"

"made you something." you say, handing him a small box lunch. "you deserve a treat for all of the hard work you've been doing lately. i know it's the least i could do for such hard work, but i was in a rush."

eagle flies smiles at the gift, his heart fluttering. "thank you, my love. i appreciate this a lot. i've always liked your cooking." he says, leaning in and pressing a tender kiss to your temple, before sitting down to eat the meal you made specially for him.

sean macguire:

he didn't know why he came on this hunting trip. hunting irked him.

he wasn't even all that good at focusing on the prey, let alone shoot it in a vital spot to kill it. he wouldn't admit that, nor the fact that he'd rather be doing something more entertaining.

he just about tossed away the bow, but you twined your arms around him in a hug and gazed up at him, a smile on your lips.

"hi honey." you say gently, "i brought you something to eat. hunting isn't your forte, and i know you like my cooking. maybe it'll calm you down."

sean stared at you for a moment, his expression flat before it grew a bit embarrassed, "i can hunt just fine!" he snapped, and you laughed. "i saw the anger in your face, honey, you hate it. here."

you pushed the box meal into his hands, and he wasn't going to deny this. as you said, he loved your cooking. he'd never say otherwise... even if he didn't like the flavor of something, he was the biggest fan of your meals and would eat up the whole plate.

he was quick to slump down underneath a tree with you, blabbering on about his day with you leaning against his shoulder. he didn't have any manners when eating, but that was fine. at least he was back to being happy.

kieran duffy:

he prefers being back at camp with the horses, let's just say that.

he didn't like the idea of hurting animals, preferring to take care of them. so, he purposefully made this a bad hunt.

he didn't even know why they asked him of all gang members to go out and hunt... although, he'd still try. he wanted them to trust him at least a little bit more. he wasn't just some o'driscoll..

he sat crouched behind a bush, expression a bit worried as he aimed the bow he borrowed at an unaware rabbit.

when he let go of the string, he jolted back, the squeaky, high-pitched sound from a pained bunny not meeting his ears. only the sound of panicked scuttling and the small thud of an arrow.

"oh..." he sighed, a bit displeased with himself. although, he sorta preferred that he didn't kill something so innocent.

"kieran?"

the sound of your voice caused him to jolt once again, and he looked up at you. "o-oh, hey, darlin'.. um, i uh.."

"i see you haven't caught yourself anything."

"nope.." he mumbled, gaze straying elsewhere. he listened to your soft laughter as you sat down beside him. "that's okay," you promised, earning his eyes on you again, "don't worry. i'll catch something later. anyway, i brought you something."

when you handed him a box, he felt the warmth seep into his palms. he looked at it, then at you. "what's this?"

"some lunch. i made it specially for you, you deserve a break from all that harassment they give you. even though it's not much, i thought you might like it."

kieran blushed at this, putting the box on his lap and managing a small-voiced "thank you."

you made him feel so dizzy, so stupid in love. but he liked that. he liked it a lot.

john marston:

he was pretty self confident in today's hunt.

he'd managed a few kills, a deer and some birds. nothing too big. but he was still pretty proud. and with this confidence, he felt he'd be good with another kill.

however, as soon as he plucked an arrow to shoot with, he noticed you coming up the hill. he was quick to smile all dumb, shoving his bow and arrow away.

when you came over the hill, you halted your horse, looking to him as he made his way over to you and pulled you from your horse.

you noticed quickly that he was in a good mood, as he began to swing you around when you were in his arms. "there's my angel! how are you doing?" he asks, nuzzling you as he sat you down, listening to your giggles.

"great! i don't think i have to ask you how you are..." you tease, before stepping slightly back from him. "made you a little something, by the way.

this caught his attention, and he raised a brow, "what's that?" "made you a lunch, with your favorites." you said as you handed him the lunch. "i figured you'd like it. you've told me about two million times that my cooking's your favorite." holy shit, was this day going good. john was through the roof now.

john grinned like the idiot he was and took the box from you. "thanks, my angel. always did like your cooking, you do it real good. i always wonder who taught you." he admits, wrapping you up in his arms again, careful not to spill what he has in his hands. you giggled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw, "i try, and i'm glad my hard work is met with a good product."

"mmmhm. now, wanna sit down and share?"

the boy:

he wasn't usually the type to hunt.

however, today, he went out hunting, and it wasn't going so good. he ended up pouting on the forest floor, leaning against a tree.

"honey?" you call out, which distracts him from his moping. he looks like he lightened up a bit, but not as much as you hoped. you sighed when he looked back to his hands.

"not much of a result, huh, love?" you ask, dismounting your horse and approaching him. you squatted down beside him, putting a hand on his cheek and tipping his head up. he grunted a "no."

"huntin's stupid. i'm the best 'round here, but these damn animals.." he huffed. you only smiled softly, leaning in close to him and pressing a kiss to his temple. "will this cheer you up?" you ask, putting a small box in his hands.

he looked at you, confused, blue eyes searching your face and waiting for an explanation.

"it's lunch i made for you. i know you're not the biggest fan of hunting, so i decided i'd make you a lunch to cheer you up... and before you ask if there's any watermelon, yes, i put watermelon in it."

he grinned dumbly, his face growing warm and dusting with a rosy color, leaning in and giving you a quick peck on the nose. "thanks, i always did like your cooking... makes me feel better 'bout this."

"oh, i know. you're blushing all silly."

"i ain't!"

here's this! i hope this suffices for my first post in 8 centuries. i hope you enjoyed, have a nice day! love you guys ♡♡♡♡

[moonlightkitties]

Saw this on insta and it immediately reminded me of Arthur and Sean when they burned down the Gray's fields.

[honeyzephyr]

my half of an art trade w/ mischief.maari on ig!

(also ppssssttt… moots my trades are open to all of you)

[ellie-yaps]

i think i shall put him in a jar that i keep on my shelf, and every night i shall shake him around a little bit to see if he makes a little noise. i think he would make a little noise, like 'sneep snorp', a silly noise because he is a silly guy

[chartreusejelly]

First ever attempt at drawing everyone's favorite lazy Irish boy.

[charredhare]

SEAN MACGUIRE'S HOLY TRINITY; SULKY, ANGRY, AND SCAR FACE.

[tempting-andromeda]

can we pls get more sean hcs🫠🙏

Sean MacGuire Headcanons

Goofiest smile ever

Can’t even do a charming one

It’s toothy and it makes his eyes crinkle

Can’t keep his hands to himself ever

He’s touching everything

Grabbing your shirt, touching the grass, feeling the wood on a table, etc

Causally tries to pickpocket you just to if he can

Doesn’t know how to use his inside voice

It’s loud or nothing!

There’s always something wrong with his clothes

Shirt is half untucked, shoes on the wrong feet, his jacket is bunched up

Hates doing things by himself

Y’all know that one bf on TikTok that boos his gf?? That’s Sean

Likes when you play with his hair

Refuses to admit he’s little spoon but will pout if he’s not

Dates usually start casual but they end in the most absurd ways

You once said you liked a horse so he stole it for you

Has a stealing problem

He can have the money but he just liked taking it

Begs you to let him steal for you

Loves making a scene to embarrass you

Will drop to his knees in public and have the most dramatic scene of pretending you said the crudest thing just because you asked him to stop pinching your butt

Does not stop though

He’s always working hard in camp (HE LITERALLY DOES SO MUCH) and loves when you give him attention

He usually gets in trouble when you do but he still encourages it

Has begged you to marry him

With tears

Thinks it’s funny to randomly lift you up

Cannot handle if you playfully make fun of him

Insist he’s a big strong man! And not a baby girl!

Loves to be in your personal space

It’s his too!

Dating him is just always bursting into giggles and he loves making himself a fool for you

Acts like an orange cat shamelessly

Things it’s apart of his Irish charm

[zzzsnok]

Sean who loves to ruffle your hair while passing you at camp, usually saying good morning or saying hi while doing so.

[spongeyspot]

General Modern Sean MacGuire HCs

- Alcoholic (it’s a given)

- Party Animal. Fr the life of the party or the problem, no in between.

- happy/stupid drunk

- “I’m a good drunk driver”

- isn’t even an okay driver when he’s sober

- Serial DUIist

- in his teens, he once ran from the police and got away, but he had dropped his wallet during the chase, and they later showed up at his house after looking at his ID

- still probably drives even after his license is revoked/suspended/taken away

- the biggest pothead you’ll ever meet

- hotboxes his car so bad that you can’t even see inside through the smoke

-fry cook at a fast food place

- low key a klepto

- never touches the money in the register but this man’s apartment is stocked up with food and other stuff from his work

- paper towels, toilet paper, plastic forks/spoons/knives, ketchup packets, even the fucking mop and yellow bucket too bro

- probably a pretty hardcore gamer

- streams occasionally, and is probably actually a little popular. The kid is funny, it’s only natural.

- 100% has an anime body pillow and titty/ass mousepad

- apartment is a pigsty

- pizza boxes and takeout containers litter all over the floor

- absolutely does the thing where he’ll start to clean but he’ll find something he thought he lost and he’ll play with it until he gives up on/ forgets that he’s cleaning

- ADHD diagnosis up the ass

- also probably mildly neurodivergent

- air guitars/drums along to songs

- also does it when no music is playing and makes the noises with his mouth

- 100% swears by drinking the bong water

[xmimikyuxxx]

GUYS HEAR ME OUT ON THIS HEADCANON

So Sean and Kieran they would have been such a nice couple because quiet person X talkative person is a very nice dynamic and I love it , because like Kieran would listen to literally everything Sean rambles about just because he likes his voice, And when he’s tired and they are cuddling, he makes Sean read to him(even tho he can’t really read) or makes him sing Irish songs to him, I also feel like Sean would actually decide that it’s a amazing time to learn more about horses since he’s dating the horse hand, And that’s really the only time Kieran rambles because he hates interrupting Sean (even tho he gets mad at everyone else, he could never get mad at Kieran)

[moonlightkitties]

Plot: You are Dutch Van der Linde's eighteen year old daughter. Your mother was Annabelle but you don't remember her since she passed away when you were young. Dutch and the others took care of you and taught you to read, ride, fish, write and even hunt. Ever since the Blackwater ferry job you had a feeling like things were only going to get worse.

Colter

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Horseshoe Overlook

Part Five

Part Six

Part Seven

Part Eight

Part Nine

Part Ten

Clemens Point

Part Eleven

[stuart-little-anti]

shout out to sean for banging his girl in johns 'room' still hilarious

[canismordere]

rdr2 ch 3 "A Short Walk In A Pretty Town" spoilers

Do you guys ever think about how Seans death affected Bill?

Bill was the one who got them all together, it was mostly his idea (i think?). And then Sean got shot dead, infront of their eyes. https://youtu.be/9di7VvZyEQk?si=L7ghscB28aDxJN7H This. Bill feels like its his fault Sean died, like he could've prevented it, even though, he couldn't've stopped it. He had no idea. It has him crying because he feels so fuckin guilty about it. About something he couldn't help. Something he couldn't've stopped. And based on what he said, that guilt is probably so overwhelming. "I don't know if I can keep this down…I still feel bad… about Sean… I mean. How was I to know?" He's so overridden with guilt that it seems to be sickening him. It is eating him alive. Imagine how terrible he'll always feel about the fact Sean died, and he feels it's his fault. It wasn't. But he'll forever feel like it was, and that guilt will always be there. He might not constantly feel it, but it'll always be there.

[miguel-owhora]

SEAN MACGUIRE MASTERLIST

SEP. 2024

FINGERING HIM

[chartreusejelly]

Am I Born to Die? || Sean MacGuire x f!OC

Fic Summary: A former fiddler in a traveling band reminisces on her short time in the Van Der Linde gang in the year 1889 through memories and letters. During a time when seeking a fresh start from a path of crime led to finding kinship, love and a hell of a lot more trouble.

Chapter Warnings: Violence, death, RDR2 spoilers

Pairings: Sean x f!OC some implications of Arthur x f!OC

Characters: (in this chapter) Arthur Morgan, Sean MacGuire, John Marston, Lenny Summers, Micah Bell

Wordcount: 2,699

[AO3] Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2

A/N : If you've been reading so far, thank you so much! This is my first attempt writing these characters, so thoughts, feedback, constructive crit is always welcome! Would love to know what you think so far!

 If the Blackwater ferry heist had gone as smooth as Dutch had hoped, who knows the kind of life I would be living now. 

Perhaps the gang would have disbanded after getting a cut of the very large sum we were expecting or all headed to Tahiti like Dutch would later suggest, to live a life of freedom from the law.  But it couldn’t have gone any worse if we had tried.  

I had been with the Van Der Linde gang for nearly two months at this point. Long enough that I had earned their trust and they had earned mine, for the most part. You could say I was even starting to think as crazy as they did. Whether or not being away from civilization with no one else to talk to had anything to do with it, I couldn’t say for sure. I had been out with a few of them robbing stagecoache a couple times and I was beginning to experience the adrenaline rush they talked about. It truly was addicting.

All I knew was that Dutch made robbing this ferry sound like it would be a walk in the park, and twice as fun. Most of us seemed to agree afterwards, that Arthur and Hosea’s absence due to finding another lead on a job was a major reason things went sideways. I didn’t realize that the two of them often served as the backbone of these bigger jobs, as Dutch’s most trusted men and the ones the rest of the gang looked to for guidance. Though most seemed confident enough we could pull it off without them. 

I don’t remember much in the days we neared Blackwater, except most of us being cold, bored and itching for some action. I didn’t try to murder Sean again, or anyone else for that matter.  I did craft some gloves made from mountain goat skin for Arthur. I had worked on them until my fingers bled, trying to get the right size and style. Thinking about practicality and wanting to make sure they were both warm and durable enough for him to pull a trigger if he had to. Mary-Beth teased me about it a little bit which I just rolled my eyes at, but I will admit I was nervous to give them to him.

I hadn’t felt that way in a long time. Looking back, it reminded me of the way I felt around a particular ranch hand I once knew. On the ranch in Georgia where my father and I ended up living and working for years, before the fire. Arguably, I did most of the work, since Pa needed a cane or a horse to walk. I was his legs on the farm. Chet was a ranch hand who I basically grew up around. I was too young to know what romance was, but oh, how I admired him. It was probably nothing more than a schoolgirl crush on a man about ten years my senior, but it was the closest I had ever been to falling in love. Arthur reminded me of him. Both rough around the edges, but kind when they thought no one was looking. Both so dedicated to their work the people around them depended on them a great deal. I saw evidence of this with the Blackwater disaster, or massacre, as the papers would later call it.

That morning we were packing up camp for the last time until we could find a new hideout. That was when Dutch had heard about Colter, a little abandoned town further up the mountain than we had already ventured to avoid being caught by these Pinkertons. They had been patrolling the area for folks like us. Arthur was talking with Dutch and Hosea about plans to meet up there once they had parted ways for their own job. I watched him saddling up, nervously touching the soft hide of those gloves before I decided to approach him. 

“Arthur?”

 He turned towards me, tilting his hat. “Miss Donahue,” he greeted. “You be safe out there. I know you aint use to these kinda jobs, but I’ve seen you with a gun. I know you can handle yourself. And I know Dutch’ll look out for you. Just stay close by. Keep your head on a swivel. You’ll do just fine.”

I gave a nod. “Thanks, Arthur. I will.” I paused a moment before I held out the gloves. “I…I made these for you. For getting me my fiddle.” I watched his face as he took them and started to ramble nervously. “They’re goat skin. From the couple mountain goats we got when you took me out shooting a few weeks back. I didn’t know your size…if they’re too big I can adjust them.” 

Arthur looked at the gloves and pulled one on his hand. “Millie, these are some fine gloves. They fit just perfectly. Christ…you didn’t have to go through all this trouble.” 

I shrugged. “Well..I didn’t have nothing better to do.”  I let out a nervous laugh and his blue eyes smiled. 

“Thank you, Millie.” He gave my shoulder an affectionate squeeze. I felt the warmth of his hand long after he’d let go to mount his horse. MacGuire showed up and had to ruin the moment, as he often did. 

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer, English.” Sean chuckled as he approached us. My face flushed with both anger and humiliation.  “It’s called human decency, Sean. Somethin’ you could use a lesson in.” Arthur said and smiled down at me from his horse apologetically. “I’ll see you folks in Colter. Don’t get yourselves killed now.”

Sean and I watched him set off on his horse. I was about to join the rest of the gang in tearing down the last of camp when the Sean spoke. “Ay. Irish.”  I cringed at how he addressed me. “I have a name.” I said sternly, but he ignored this. 

“Have you got enough goat skin to make another pair of gloves? I heard it’s gonna be cold up in this Colter, and Dutch doesn’t want us goin’ into town.” he asked me.

I let out huff of annoyance. “You shoulda’ thought of that sooner. It’ll take me days to make another pair.” I kept on walking, and he followed.

“Come on . I’ll freeze up there. Look, I’ll pay you. How does five dollars sound?” Sean asked. 

I looked at him over my shoulder. “Twenty.” 

“ Twenty !?” He squawked. “Are ya out of your damn mind? You gave Morgan a pair for nothin’”

“You asked me at the last minute.” I pointed out. “And you aint even supplying the leather. I can have ‘em to you in a couple days for twenty.” 

Sean hesitated and let out a defeated sigh. “You drive a hard bargain, girl. But alright. I don’t got the money now, but I will. After this ferry heist we’ll have more money than we can count. And I’ll give ya your lousy twenty bucks. They’d better be the best damn gloves you’ve ever made.” 

I held back a satisfied smirk. I wasn’t sure if I’d actually charge him that much. He had a point, after all. If this heist went as well as Dutch seemed so sure it would, twenty dollars would be nothing. 

—-----

 I figured being so new to camp, Dutch would have me hang back with some of the women. When he’d asked me and Lenny to bring the getaway horses along the riverbank I was eager to prove myself. Maybe he’d asked me because he knew I use to work with horses on a ranch with my Pa. Or maybe I was meant to be a human shield. I still wonder about that sometimes.  Our job was simple: keep the horses together, and take out anyone who tried to follow us. Having never been involved in a gunfight before, I was a little uneasy. “Just keep your head down.” Lenny had warned me. “And shoot before they shoot you. If you get too nervous, just hide behind a rock or something.”  Which did little to reassure me. 

We watched the ferry carefully. Time seemed to go by painfully slow as all we could do was wait. Then, all of a sudden, there was an eruption of chaos as we found ourselves in the middle of a bloodbath. Bullets were flying everywhere when our boat hit the shoreline. The gang started to jump out one by one and mount the horses. There were Pinkertons chasing them off the boat, and a band of bounty hunters were approaching on the shore as soon as they’d been tipped off.

Everyone was shouting as we rode off into what felt like a battlefield. Davey Callandar was on the back of Charles’s horse, wounded and screaming. Jenny Kirk was on Javier’s horse in rough shape, having taken a few bullets on the ferry.  “Where’s Mac?” I heard someone yell over the sound of gunfire. Micah Bell answered. “He’s done for. Had to leave him behind.” 

Horses whinied and galloped along the hard packed dirt trail as we dodged bullets and fired them right back. John Marston was riding behind me. I turned my head in time to watch blood spray from his arm as he was hit.  “Fuck!” The man clutched his arm and dropped his gun. I shouted at him to get in front of me while I shot at the bounty hunters that were right on our tails. I shot one off his horse. Three more showed up. “This way! Up the hill!” I hollered at John and we made a sharp turn up the rock ledge to lose them, separating us from the the rest of the gang. From the corner of my eye, someone who was clearly on our side and shooting with me appeared. 

“Is Marston hit?”  I heard Sean’s voice and was surprised he had come to our aid. 

“I’m fine.” John answered. “Just keep them off our ass. If you can manage that.” 

The hunters were relentlessly chasing. I later figured out that they had likely wounded John to take him as hostage. Just as the noise died down and my heart began to calm, I heard another shot and galloped the horse I was riding faster. I turned and steadied my rifle as I heard Sean’s horse make a loud distressed sound. I saw the animal rear and buck Sean off as the bounty hunters were gaining on us once again. I pulled my reins back, slowing down. I knew the risk of going back for him, but I had been raised better than that.  I turned my horse to go back when a bounty hunter got to him first and leaned over his horse to scoop the young dazed Irishman up from the ground. I heard him laughing. “Got one, boys! It’s payday!” 

I aimed my gun and fired as the man headed in the opposite direction with Sean, only to hear the click of an empty barrel. “Shit..” I watched their horses tear out of sight, Sean’s copper-haired head bobbing limply on the back of the horse. I hurried my horse up the hill again to find John who had gotten a decent head start and was making a tourniquet for his arm from his ripped shirt sleeve.

“John! They..they got him! They took Sean!” I stammered, trying to catch my breath. 

“They did? Shit.. He still alive?” John looked up at me. 

I nodded quickly. “I think so. What do we do?” 

“Little Irish prick. It’s his own fault for gettin’ caught.” John winced holding his arm. He uncapped a flask with his teeth and poured whiskey over the wound before taking a long drink. “Head to camp. Before I lose this damn arm, that’s what we do.”

“But they’ll kill him!” I shouted in disbelief. 

“Not necessarily. They’re bounty hunters. They’ll probably turn him in. Then they’ll kill him.” I could tell John was much more desensitized and unbothered by this than I was. “Maybe we can bust him out before they do. But right now we got bigger problems. Christ, girl. We gotta toughen you up some.”  I frowned, taking offense to his statement, but I followed him, hoping he was right. 

—----

Colter carried the stench of blood in the crisp air from the moment we arrived. 

Jenny bled to death before the gang even made it to our new camp. Javier and Lenny found ground thawed enough to bury her in a shallow grave nearby. I hadn’t known the girl long. She hadn’t been with us much longer than I had, but many were saddened by her loss. Losing the Callandar brothers was a hard hit, as well. We presumed Mac was dead. Micah said he’d been hit more than a few times and there wasn’t much left of him. Davey lived for a few agonizing days before he succumbed due to either blood loss or infection. He joined his brother in whatever afterlife awaits outlaws, and we buried him next to Jenny. 

I thought about Sean. Some presumed he was already dead. I couldn’t help but carry the weight of guilt in knowing that if they hanged the young man it was my fault. Dutch had given me a chance, and I had blown it, letting one of his men get captured. But Dutch seemed to be going through his own personal hell over the deaths and knowing that the entire township wanted his head because he had killed an innocent girl on that ferry.

The emotional state of the camp was as miserable as the weather. We were all anxious to get out of the cold and away from Blackwater before we all faced the gallows. We were low on money, food and morale. I started making those gloves Sean asked for to keep my mind busy, not knowing if he’d ever get to wear them. 

When Arthur and Hosea returned, they were as rattled as we all were to hear how badly things had ended on the ferry. We all had to face the reality that we had to start over, or die there on that mountain. If the law didn’t kill us, the mountain surely would. “I’m sure glad you made me these gloves, Miss Donahue.” Arthur told me one morning while I was huddled by one of the wood stove, stitching Sean’s gloves in the house we were lodging in. He pulled up a stool. “My fingers might have fallen off by now if you hadn’t.”  I smiled politely, but my mind was elsewhere, and he could see it. “Don’t you worry, Miss.” He added. “This gang has seen hard times before, and we’ll surely get through this. We’ll be outta this frozen hell soon enough.” He looked down at the gloves. “You’re making another pair?” 

I let out a sigh. “They were for Sean. But..someone else could have them, I guess.” 

His expression turned serious and he reached out putting a gentle hand on my arm. “I heard what happened back there. You did good, Millie.”

I scoffed and stopped stitching. “ Good ? I let our man get captured. I should have reloaded my gun sooner.”

Arthur gave a shrug. “Happens to all of us. Besides, you saved John’s sorry hide. He’s too proud to thank you for it, but I know he’s grateful in his own way.” Arthur pointed out. He sat back and nodded to the gloves. “You keep at it. We’ll get Sean back, you’ll see. We never leave a man behind, if we can help it.” He started to rise but not before teasing me with a coy half-smile. “I thought you hated the boy.” 

I frowned, my cheeks warming from his insinuation that I felt anything besides dislike for Sean. “I don’t hate him. Don’t have any particular use for him, but I don’t hate any one of you.” 

Arthur chuckled. “That’s the spirit. You’ll probably feel the same way about most of us, with time.” As he walked away it occurred to me that perhaps I was missing the lad more than I was worried about him. At least he was in a warm dry jail cell, being fed, probably. It was Sean’s cocky remarks and obnoxious singing that kept most of us in high spirits, whether we cared to admit it or not. And we sure could have used that in our time on that mountain.

[omgwhatchloe]

one of my fav macsummers headcanons is, if they didnt have to eat that poison i mean mr pearsons stew and had actual plates of food, they’d defo just steal from each other’s plate until they had basically combined their meal.

like, lenny would be eating and sean’s hand would just sneak over to him plate and take a handful of food he doesnt even like that much, but because its on lennys plate he’s stealing it.