#sleepymadi

[have-some-gotdamn-faith]

I was wondering if you could maybe write something with the prompt “there’s nothing to be afraid of” with Arthur x reader please. It can be hcs or whatever you want. Thank you 😊

Oh man, the possibilities! I have to admit, it’s been a while since I’ve done a prompt (for me it feels like forever, anyhow) so I think I’ll go with that—what better time to stretch my legs a bit, yeah? Thanks so much for sending this in!

|| Random Dialogue Ideas, #1 ||

There’s Nothing to be Afraid Of, Arthur x Reader

Mud squelched beneath the soles of your boots as you followed closely behind Arthur, doing your absolute best to match his—amazingly—quieter lead. 

You made a mental note to ask him how he managed so well, once the two of you were done here.

The air hung hot and heavy in the marshlands, just northeast of Saint Denis, and the moon made a mockery of your suffering as its light shone on the snail trails of sweat left on your skin.

A voice—wordless, shrill and warbling—pierced the night’s calm, and both yours and Arthur’s hand went to your pistols. It sounded close.

You’d heard of folks that preyed in the bayou—those that would lay traps and strike through the night. Most folks caught travelling the swamps were never seen again, if the murmurs from the city outskirts and Lagras were to be believed. Wide-eyed and frantic you swept the surrounding area, hoping to catch whatever made that noise before it caught up to the two of you.

“Ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of,” you heard Arthur hum. He, too, was on a surveilling swivel. “Jus’ keep movin’, and we’ll be fine.”

The words no sooner left his lips, he let a surprised expletive spill; following his gaze upward, you brought a gloved hand to cover your mouth. A body—rotting, swinging slow and heavy—was tethered from a branch some ways above. Your breath caught in your throat and your legs locked under you; you’d seen hanging bodies before, but something about this one made your stomach drop. Arthur’s hurried, silent beckoning was lost on your lack of attention.

“Gaddammit, y/n!” he hissed. “Come on, we gotta go!”

His hand clamping down on your wrist shook you back to awareness and Arthur yanked—hard. Had he not, the nasty club that fell with a hard ‘plap’ into the mud would have been in your skull. Wordlessly, at least seven men appeared—materialized, as far as you were concerned—from behind the trees, barely illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the canopy above, and gave chase to the two of you.

Without Arthur still attached to you, you weren’t certain you would have moved through the thick, wet earth with as much expediency.

The grunts and excited hoots behind you grew ever closer.

Arthur whistled, a loud series of calls, as your feet touched more compacted ground—finally, a path! With newfound urgency, both of you took off in the direction of whinnying nearby. Neither you nor the horses slowed, as you used the momentum to swing yourself up to your saddle as soon as your hand wrapped around it.

The pair of you rode hard, but outran your pursuers quickly enough—once you’d made respectable distance, Arthur let out a breath you weren’t aware he was holding.

“See? Ain’t nothin’ to be afraid of!”

He shrank back, laughing, as you lashed out to whack his arm.

[missblissy]

As a request could you please do one where the reader and Arthur are in a relationship and the reader ends up having a miscarriage. This then leads the reader into a depression and does self harm. Arthur does what ever he can do to help the reader. I understand if you don’t want to do this request just thought I’d put it out there. Thank you

((Aaaa thank you for the request friend!! I love writing angsty stories no matter how much they hurt!! Thank you for giving me the option to write this! I’m sorry this took so long to get too!! Have a good read!! dfkjhgldkfjghldfk I’m so sorry this is weeks late ;; ))

WARNING: CONTAINS AND MENTIONS SELF HARM! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK!

It pulsed within. It squirmed and moved and curled deep in the darkness, lapping at the edges of numbness while clawing hopelessly out of an endless trap. The way it’s ebony shadows consumed everything insight reflected how the world was cruel and unloving. Nothing warm could ever spark alive again, nothing good could ever grow.

The flame danced as if this was the happiest moment of its life, lighting your shallow face in the dark forest. Despite the blurry vision, you could still watch the beautiful party within the flickers of the flames. You sat hunched over with your arms wrapped around your knees. You blinked slowly, ignoring the sting of smoke that swamped you with the change of the wind.

No matter how close you sat to the fire though, you still felt cold. No matter how much liquor you drank. You still felt cold. Breathing slow and shallow you reached for the branch sitting beside you. Shakey and boney fingers twitched around the broken bark before jabbing the stick into the heart of the fire in front of you.

Tinders and sparks floated into the air like burning stars. They swirled in the wind and died before they reached the treeline. There was an ache in your body returning as the booze wore off. A soft throbbing encased each of your legs and arms that worked its way into the core of your body. You needed another drink. By the glow of the fire, you crawled to your feet and used the low light to find your horse softly grazing a few yards away.

Each step made your legs wobble and buck, you’d wince and take each step carefully. The pain was growing and reaching out trying to cripple you. If you hadn’t cried enough already, you’d be brought to tears by the sharp shooting pain that came with moving. Your horse raised its head when you got close, letting out a little chirp then returning to his grazing. The rum was tucked away in your saddle bag and you even found a little bottle of gin too. You’d need it.

The journey back to the ugly sleeping bag you hurt more than the first one. As you sat down, you caught a glance of the paper box hidden in the darkness that was an arm’s length away. There was no stopping the flashbacks of memories, only hours old, from violating your mind.

You cracked open the rum and gulped down the brown liquor as you remembered how this day started. It had been a normal day at first. You were on your way back from Valentine when an unknown pain rooted itself in your stomach. You didn’t think anything of it until it got worse, so much to the point that you had to slide off your horse and fumble to the ground, watching a blotch of blood soak into your jeans. You knew it wasn’t your period because you had gotten pregnant.

That was a long time ago now. It was well past three in the morning now. Part of you heard a voice screaming out in your head. You asked for this, didn’t you? In a way you did. You didn’t want to be a mother and you prayed to whatever God was listening to take this away. And for once someone was listening. You weren’t sure if this was a cruel joke or not. The only luck you had going for you was that no one knew you were pregnant, and no one knew you had a miscarriage.

Bitterness swirled around inside you and you let out a cold single laugh as the bottle of rum brushed your lips, “And I just started showing too… Thank God and kill me…” You drank the rum and thought about how this was probably the best thing to happen to you despite how awful it made you felt.

It wasn’t like you could be a mother anyways. You were in a gang. The gang. The Son’s of Dutch. The Van der Linde Gang. You were a murderer, a killer and a wanted criminal. That wasn’t the recipe to make a mother. That was a disaster just waiting to happen. It wasn’t like the father was any better. He’d be your on again off again boy toy. He wasn’t much of anything, but you’d been dancing around each other for years now. Sometimes you’d be madly in love, sometimes you’d see other people, other times you’d mess around just for the sake of messing around. But you’d always come back to him, and he’d always be your friend. You didn’t know what it was but there was just something alluring about Arthur Morgan. It didn’t hurt that he was handsome too. But he wasn’t a husband or a father and you didn’t ask that of him because you knew it simply just wasn’t something he couldn’t do. You couldn’t either so there was no judgment.

However, your game of cooties finally caught up to you, and you and Arthur were currently “on” again relationship wise. As far as anyone else was concerned you two were dating. Right now you just couldn’t think about them, or even Arthur really. Something was attacking you from the inside out and you knew you wouldn’t be able to fight it for long. You’d cry, but you didn’t have any tears left in you.

You had reached the bottle of rum sooner than you wanted and you knew the little bottle of gin wouldn’t get you to your destination. When you found out you were having a miscarriage, you fled into the woods not too far from camp. You knew no one would be looking for you because half the camp was gone. Dutch took several boys, including Arthur, and went to go poke fun with some locals and making some money. You choose not to go because ever since you found out you were pregnant, about two or three months ago, you’d been slowly withdrawing from gang activity.  

Depression was easy to hide at first, and you got incredibly depressed when you first discovered you were pregnant. You simply just put on a smile and didn’t let anyone know what was going. The days of pretending slowly turned into weeks and somehow it became a lifestyle to feel hollow while laughing like you were living.

You felt a tinge in your heart and you pressed a finger into your upper thigh, there was a sting that came with the touch. You traced your finger down and felt bump after bump. You couldn’t help it, nor did you try to stop your awful habit of cutting yourself in times of great depression and stress. It was like a nervous tick that got worse with time. You had not cut yourself in many years, however, this was the first time in nearly a decade and you hated yourself for it.

The fire pop and cracked as you stirred the embers around. You tried not to think about your life, your feelings, yourself or the things that had happened. No one would be back at camp yet, the left this morning. You had a good feeling they’d be gone for a day or two. You told yourself you’d head back to camp in the morning anyway. You fled to the forest and bled out in the dirt while drinking your weight in alcohol.

Slowly you dragged your hollow eyes over to the box again. Your lips scrunched up and you made this sour face before grabbing it and tossing the box into the flames. Something told you not to do it, but you did. You didn’t want any memory of this and you didn’t want to leave anything behind. You were so torn between the voices in your head. They told you that you were a monster and selfish, they told you that you asked for this, they told you to be thankful because the next time this happens it will be worse.

You laid down on your side and put your back to the flames. Silence was welcomed but you couldn’t find any in the sea of your heart and mind, clashing together to make the story of a lifetime. You held onto the leaking bottle of gin, to intoxicated and tried to stop it from spilling into the dirt. ____________________________________________

The camp was quite like it always was at the crack of dawn. No one was awake, and anyone that was didn’t see you slip in from the treeline. You had new clothes on, thanks to the spare outfit you kept in your saddle bag, you burned your old stained clothes when got up this morning with a pounding headache and pain coming from every corner of your body. You just wanted to get back to your tent and sleep for the rest of the day.

You had nearly made it there too, but someone stopped you with a chipper happy tone that did not match your sluggish gray mood. It was Hosea, a smile on his face and two cups in his hands. He must have seen you come in. The sweet old man was always the first to rise, he loved watching the sunrise every morning with a cup of coffee and a book.

“Welcome back, (Y/n),” Hosea greeted you a few feet outside your tent, he held out the warm tin cup for you to take.

You pressed your lips thin into a forced and tired smile, “Hey, Hosea, how are you?” The coffee’s heat radiated into your frozen fingers. You brought the cup up to your nose and for a second you felt alive as the bitter drink wafted into your lungs, waking you up only by a small bit.

“As fine as one can be in these times,” He sounded a little bothered but you knew he was just talking about the whole Blackwater situation. You’d only made it to Horseshoe Overlook a couple weeks ago. Hosea took a brief of his coffee then asked, “What about yourself? You didn’t come back last night, Arthur was looking for ya when he got back.”

“Was he?” You did a damn good job of not acting surprised. But you were, and you were a little disappointed, you were hoping to have your tent all to yourself.

“Yeah, he got all-” Hosea paused and waved his free hand in the air, gesturing to something only known between you two, “Ya know?” You nodded your head, understanding exactly what he meant. He meant Arthur had gotten his panties tied in a knot last night because you weren’t there to greet him when he got back with Dutch. Hosea then asked, “So what happened? You look like shit, girl.”

That made a small single chuckle blurt from your mouth before your face dropped again, “Ha!” You shook your head after that, “I got robbed on my way back from town,” You lied, “Had to chase the fucker across the heartlands. I camped out last night and rod back,” You were a good liar and he believed every word you said. Hosea had taught you well and you used your power against him.

“That’s a shame,” He said, “Did you get to skin him at least?” He seemed genuinely curious.

“Who do you take me for, Hosea?” You faked another smile, it had gotten so easy to be fake after months of practice, “Of course I did!”

He laughed at that and gave you a pat on the shoulder, “Thank god!” He smiled to you and then gave your shoulder a squeeze, “Be good, girl, I’ll see you later.”

As he left you by yourself again, you brought the coffee cup up to your lips one last time and took a small sip before dumping it to the ground, not really interested in drinking it anymore. You headed inside your tent. You peeled back the curtain door that opened up into your humble little tent. It was dark in there and you could barely see, the morning sun hadn’t even risen above the horizon yet. You found a little lantern on a table and brought a low light to life.

Arthur was there, sound asleep and curled under the blankets of your bed. Something about him made your skin crawl. You wanted to get in bed and sleep, but strangely the thought of touching him made your stomach uneasy and your head spin. You had nowhere else to go, however, and you were very tired and still in a lot of pain. But you just couldn’t do it. You didn’t even want to see him. There was something dead inside you and it was rotting away, infecting you, and making you sick.

After several seconds of thought, you went over to the far end of your tent and slowly opened a chest you had, it was filled with your belonging among other things. You had some cash stuffed in the deepest part, a little secret stash you had been saving up for a rainy day. That day was today, you told yourself, you had finally decided that you were going to just have back into town. Get a bath, get a room, sleep in a big bed all day by yourself and maybe, hopefully, you wouldn’t wake up.

As you closed the chest, clicked it shut, you heard Arthur rolling over in the bed before letting out a yawn. You froze in your spot and prayed that he didn’t wake up. Praying only works once it seems, as you turned around slowly, carefully, you saw Arthur looking back at you. Shit. He looked… happy.

You were anything but that. He smiled and said, “Good morning,” His voice was rough and broken from snoring through the night.

It was hard to smile back. Why was it so hard to pretend and lie when it came with Arthur? Was it because you possibly loved him more than the world? Was it because it was hard to lie to someone you cared about? No. You easily lied to Hosea, you lied to Dutch all the time. You’ve been lying to everyone for the last few months. It just felt wrong with Arthur because this lie was apart of him just as much as it was apart of you. The only difference was that Arthur was clueless and you carried the burden alone.

“Hey,” You tried your best to put on your nicest face for him. When he reached a hand out and hung it off the side of the bed, you knew he wanted you to come closer. You hesitated but took the few steps between you. Lightly and loosely held onto his hand. It felt cold and it made your skin feel like it wanted to be ripped off. 

With a smile, Arthur brought the back of your hand to his lips and gave it a kiss. The little whiskers on his face had grown out of control and his five o’clock shadow was slowly turning into a prickly beard, “What are you doing today?” He asked.

That was the last question you wanted to answer. You just wanted to be alone. To sleep. To get some peace. You sucked in a small breath and then sighed, “Oh, stuff. I gotta run to town.”

“You were just there yesterday,” He peered up at you then gave a light tug on your hand, “It can wait, can’t it?” Clearly, he wanted you to get in bed with him. But you just couldn’t do that.

With a small shake of your head, as your hair swayed in and out of your face, you pressed a small smile onto your lips and softly said, “I’d rather not,” You even withdrew your hand from his, going on to say, “I have stuff I gotta do,” You had nothing to do.

Arthur made a face and not a pleasant one. His brows knitted together and he swung his legs over the bed, sitting up and asking, “You mad at me?”

“No!” You quickly replied, feeling guilty and upset with yourself for making him feel that way, “No, not at all! No!” You didn’t try to comfort him though. You just couldn’t bring yourself to touch him. It felt wrong and invasive. It felt like he’d find out sooner or later just by staring at you, “I… I just… I have to do something. Important. In town.”

He didn’t seem to like that answer very much, “You gonna tell me what?” Arthur even seemed angry, “Or when ya gonna be back?”

When you avoided his gaze he knew something was up, not that he already didn’t have a clue. You stared down at the ground and shook your head while backing away from him, “No… and… I don’t know.”

Little did you know, but Arthur had been watching you for some time now. You had been acting incredibly strange the past week or so. As much as you thought you were a good liar and actress, you couldn’t fool Arthur. Maybe you could trick the rest of camp, but not him. Not the man that knew every inch of your body and every secret inside your head, and who’s been in your life for the last 20 years.

“Is… is it Dutch?” Arthur asked, pressing on still, “Does he got some… secret mission or…?” He had to know what was up. Why couldn’t you just tell him what you were doing? When did this turn into a guessing game?

“Arthur, please,” Your voice was so small, you didn’t want to fight, “Just… stop asking. Please…”

Something about this wall that you put up didn’t feel right. Your behavior recently had been growing more and more odd by the day. You had stopped eating and sleeping, he noticed. You’d become foggy and out of it, as if you were in the clouds. You had a hard time remembering anything anyone said to you, and you had found a new interest in hiding in your tent all day while avoiding everyone like the plague. 

If you didn’t want to talk to him, well then, “Fine,” He said and glared up at you with a hurt look in his eyes. As he stood up he walked past you, brushing into your shoulder and you felt a spark of pain come from him. He went on to ignore you and got dressed. He figured if he did that you’d retort back like you normally did and fight his attitude with one of your own. But he didn’t hear anything. Not even a ‘fuck you’ was said, which was your best comeback for things like this. As he shoved his arms into each sleeve, he turned around and you were gone. You left…

There was something wrong and Arthur could smell the bullshit from a mile away. You didn’t even say goodbye. His anger and irritation was replaced with worry and fear. This wasn’t like you at all. He had to find out what was going on, or at the very least what you were doing. And the only way to do that was to follow you.__________________________________________

You had slid off your horse with a look of pain on your face. Arthur watched you wince and hiss out from down the street as you hitched your stallion outside the hotel in Valentine. You pressed a hand into your lower stomach, standing there for a second to catch your breath. 

Were you hurt? Was that it? Arthur kept himself snug against the sherif’s office as he watched you from down the main drag of town. As he watched you wobble up the stairs of the hotel and head inside, he wondered what on earth you could have been up too.

Once you open the door and disappeared within, Arthur ran faster than he’d ever run before. Why were you going to the hotel? Arthur’s wild imagination started playing a guessing game as he made it up to the front steps of the building. Fear gripped him but died quickly when he peered into the windows and caught your tail end as you headed for the baths. He let go of a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and leaned back along the hotel’s walls.

As he pulled out a cigarette and sparked it to life, Arthur eyed everyone that even dared to get close to the building. A large part of his nagging mind told him that you may have come here to seek attention from another man. In other words, Arthur thought you came here to cheat on him despite the fact that your relationship was as murky as the swamp waters in Lemoyne County. You were not his wife, even though he would like to change that, you were your own person and if you wanted to mess around with other men… Well. Arthur could get as jealous and possessive as he wanted but he wasn’t the boss of you, nor did he own you, nor did you have to listen to him. 

Regardless, Arthur would be extremely upset if his greatest fear was coming true. Between drags of his cigarette, he’d look back into the window of the hotel. Nearly half an hour had passed before he saw you again. As Arthur peeked into the window he watched you walk by and head upstairs. Anxiety and paranoia flickered alive within him again. He threw the cigarette down and embers flew into the air. He stopped the tip his boot down and killed it before rushing inside.

The man at the front desk smiled, ready to greet another customer, “Hello there,” He said, “How can I help you?”

Arthur took in a quick breath and swiped his hand under his nose. He could smell the lavender soap left over in the air from your bath, “Howdy,” His voice was low. Arthur stopped at the counter and leaned forward, “Do you think you can tell me anything about that woman who was just here?”

The hotel clerk’s face dropped down into a mild frown, “I try to respect my customer’s privacy, sir.” Arthur rolled his eyes and then pulled out a few dollar bills then slapped them on the counter. The clerk took the money without a sound then cleared his throat, “Don’t know much,” He spoke quietly, “Bought a bath and a room for the next four nights. Strange one. Don’t normally get requests like that,” The man paused and ran a hand over his mouth before pulling at his mustache, “Especially from women,” He paused then leaned a little closer to Arthur, his voice barely a whisper now, “Between you and me, she might be going up there to kill herself. She had this look in her eye, dark… nasty. She looked sadder than a weeping desert flower drying up in the sun. I’ve seen it before, ladies will come in here and buy a whole damn week’s worth of nights, and kill themselves up there. I hope she isn’t gonna be the next one, I’ve had 3 suicides in the last 6 months. Damn crazy woman are bringing my ratings down.” 

When the man pulled away, Arthur’s old fear of losing you to another man was replaced with losing you entirely, “What room?” He asked as he felt a dark feeling cripple him. 

“Three, first door on the right.”

Arthur quickly pushed himself away from the counter and hurried upstairs. When he found your room he crept quietly towards the door. He pressed an ear against the dark wood and closed his eyes while he listened for any sounds you’d make.

Through the door, he could barely make out muffled sobs. He could hear you swear a few times. Words came in and out. You must have been crying into a pillow or something because it was extremely hard to hear anything you said. But the one thing he could make out was his name. So you were mad at him? What did he do? Arthur made up his mind and he made himself comfortable against the door until he didn’t hear anything at all. 

The silence screamed in his ear and shattered his nerves until he told himself to calm down, and that you had probably fallen asleep. After several minutes of nothing, Arthur decided he’d break in. Picking the lock was easy, opening the door was the hard part. It slowly let out a creek as he pushed the door open. He winced when the door let out a loud squeak, at least he noticed you were sound asleep in bed.

He closed the door and looked over his shoulder towards your figure buried under blankets. It was tempting to climb in bed with you, but Arthur knew better than that. He knew damn well when you woke up that you’d be furious that he had literally stalked you and broke into your room. Clearly, Arthur had little sense of honor or privacy at the time.

There was a chair sitting snug in the corner of the room that Arthur had made himself comfortable in. The cushioned seat was a million times better than those logs around the fire pits he’d gotten so used too. He pulled his journal out from his satchel and stared at you while you slept. He’d get his answer soon enough, but did he go about it in the wrong way? Sure. But at least for the time being, you’d make the perfect model for his sketches. ________________________________________

Dreams faded away from your mind and the dull light of the final hours of the day soaked onto your face. You could feel the warm orange rays of sunlight on your cheeks leaking in from the window. The warmth of the bed was a little too much so you kicked away the heavy blanket and remained under the thing sheet. 

A yawn escaped your chest but it caused you pain. You let out a little wince alongside a sharp inhale of air. Everything hurt and suddenly you remember where and who you were, and what you’ve done. Deep dread pooled and oozed out of you and onto everything you touched. You took a bath earlier but you felt dirty and disgusted in your own skin. You pressed a hand against your right thigh, feeling dried up scabs that had formed over the cuts you sliced into your skin only hours before. A sinking feeling overtook your body and you rolled around in bed a few times before you heard a familiar sound.

Somebody… Was in the room. And that somebody cleared his throat loud enough to make his presence known. You sat up quick enough to give yourself a headrush. But even with blurry and blacked out vision, you could still make out Arthur’s figure sitting across the room. 

You frowned instantly and let out a gasp as you threw the sheets off you, “What the hell are you doing here!?” You yelled at him.

Arthur didn’t even flinch. He closed his journal with a quick snap and stuffed it away, “I could ask you the same thing.” He retorted.

He watched you as you walked around the bed and towards him. You wore just an oversized shirt and some socks. As you glared at him you watched Arthur’s eyes stop at a peculiar place on your body. It was your leg. Your right upper thigh.

“What.... Are those?” Arthur pointed a finger at the several little gashes that scattered odd places on your leg. 

It took him a second, but Arthur could faintly remember a time in your mouth when you use to do this to your arms. You had just joined the gang back then and you had a very deep-rooted lust for death. He got up out of the chair and he watched you wince away. You took a step back and Arthur frowned.

“(Y/n)- what is going on?”

You stared hard at the ground. You were as pale as a ghost. You felt naked and ashamed of yourself. 

Arthur spoke again and he took a small step towards you. His voice surprised you, it was low yet calm, “You’ve got me worried, (Y/n). Whatever is going on you can tell me. You know I’ve always been there for you no matter what it was,” He paused and you took a quick glance up at him. His face was soft and as he spoke a little smile twitched on his face, “You remember that time back in New Mexico? I had your back all the way out of the mess.” The memory of escaping bandits and pretending to be a man for three weeks was probably still the worst time of your life. You looked up at Arthur as he said, “And I helped you all those times you had to fight off your drunk of a father.” 

Even then Arthur was the pillar of support you could always lean on. It so different now, maybe he’d understand if you told him what was going on but fear still held tight to your tongue. The pressure of it all caused tears to well in your eyes. As one rolled down your cheek Arthur reached out to wipe it away, to your surprise you didn’t even flinch. The touch of his thumb along your cheek was rough but familiar. It made you cry even more. 

You didn’t stop yourself from sobbing anymore and you didn’t move away when Arthur embraced you into his arms where you buried your face into his chest. This was so difficult and you were so miserable and sad. You wanted to tell him everything but you cried so hard that your throat was getting sore and your eyes grew puffy.

Arthur held tightly onto you until you found enough courage to speak. Your voice was small and broken and barrel a whisper, “I have to tell you something,” When he remained silent you took in a breath, and in an even smaller voice you said, “I...” You passed and slowly shook your head back and forth, your nose dragging across his chest, “I had a mi-..miscarriage.” 

Time seemed to stop for what felt like years. But suddenly you noticed the grip on you loosened, and loosened, and all that was left where Arthur’s hands gripping your shoulders tightly as he kept you at an arm's length.

“What did you just say?” He stared at you as you started to open your mouth but he cut you off with a stern voice, “You were pregnant?” You had nothing to say, “For how long?”

This time he wanted an answer. Somehow you managed to say, “A... A few months...Four?” You weren’t entirely sure, it was somewhere around there probably. 

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He had so many questions. This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want to do this.

You brought your hands up to your face, trying to hide as you felt tears fall again, “Because,” You gushed out, then sniffled the snot the filled your nose, “I could never be a mother,” Your voice was weak but still firm. You sucked in a breath then let out a little groan, “I was scared, I... I didn’t know what to do! But it doesn’t matter anymore!” The guilt you tried so hard to forget and bury swelled alive inside you and fueled more tear to run down your face, “I’m so damn lucky!” You bitterly cried out, “That’s what everyone will say. She’s so lucky! She’s a wanted criminal! An outlaw! And most importantly unmarried at the age of 29! How on earth could she ever be a mother! Well, I can’t!” Finally, everything was spilling out. It was like the wall had broken down and all your feeling spilled out. 

You looked Arthur in the eye, you stood apart, neither of your touching each other. But you took everything you had and looked him in the eye and said, ”And it never wanted to involve you. You’ve made this mistake before. Probably many more times knowing you.”

Hurt spread across Arthur’s face and he gave you an odd look, “Do you think you’re just my whore?” The question started you, “Do you think I don’t care about you?” He put you on the spot and you started to get nervous. 

“I-... You... You might care about me but I know how you feel about Mary! How you will always feel about her,” You started at the ground and shook your head quickly, “I’m nothing compared to her in your eyes.”

It was his turn to be on the spot. You were correct in a way. Mary would always be something different and special, however, there was something you gave him that Mary would never give him. He could be himself around you, he could always count on your to have his back. You gave him a type of comfort and security that made him feel at home. 

That why it wasn’t as hard as he thought to say these words, “(Y/n), I know I don’t say it, I know I probably don’t show it. But I do love you.” He sounded shy almost. You looked up and met his gaze, “I’m sorry this happened to you. I wish you told me. I care about you. I’d... If we weren’t in this gang....” Arthur reached his hands out and grabbed yours. You took a step closer and stared down at your hands held in his, “If we weren’t in this gang, I’d love to marry you and run away,” Somehow you believed him, “I know... I know how you feel. I get it. I’m sorry. But trust me I still and will always love you.”

Shyly you said in a small voice, “You should say it more,”

“I love you,” Arthur said again, more firmly, “And I’ll do whatever you need me to do. Just don’t leave me. Stop hurting yourself and let me help you.”

You took a deep breath in and as you exhaled, a weight seemed to lift off your shoulders, “Okay,” You still had a toll on your mind, your body was still tired and sore, and you still felt a twinge of guilt bubble in your belly. But you had Arthur to lean on. He pulled you back into his arms and pressed a kiss to your forehead, “Stay here with me... please. Until tomorrow,” 

“Of course,” He said it so quickly, you could tell he wanted to do anything to please you. He just wanted to see you safe and happy. 

You pressed your cheek against his chest and closed your eyes, “Say it one more time,” You asked quietly.

“I love you,” You felt the words rumble from deep within his chest, you felt his breath roll down the side of your neck as he nuzzled his face into the crook of your shoulder.

Those words ringed in your ears and you let out a breath. Finally, you were able to say the words you never thought you’d hear, “I love you too.” The world felt a little bit better. You felt a little bit better. You rested into Arthur’s arms and told yourself you’d be okay.

[mileycyprus-hill]

Hello my name is Madison and I was wondering if you could do a matchup please. Female, 18, exactly 5 feet tall 😒, pansexual, brown and blue eyes, chubby. I love animals. I have a passion for photography. Shy but also outgoing. I love all kinds of music and I love listening to it, dancing etc. My friends tell me I’m too kind sometimes. I have a hard time opening up to people. I tend to act very childish sometimes. A little perverted. I hope that’s enough. Thank you :)

I’m gonna draw the wild card here, hang on a sec Madison!

“Hey Al! Check out this gal’s photos!”

“Oh my! They’re extraordinary!”

Albert Mason

Don’t worry about your height, Albert doesn’t mind.

In fact, you’re the perfect size for him!

You stumbled across him one day in West Elizabeth, at the base of the same mountain where a legendary bear was rumored to be.

He thought you were pulling his leg when you told him that, until you shook your head at him with a grim look. Suddenly, you both heard a faint roar in the distance.

Albert quickly packed his things and asked you to accompany him back to town. You hesitated at first, since you didn’t know him. But he seemed sweet enough and you were curious to know more about his hobby, considering you’re also an avid photographer.

Riding back to Strawberry, you both killed time with small talk.

You find that Mr. Mason is a lot like you: he’s a little shy, but can still strike up a good conversation. He doesn’t try to break silence with mindless jibber-jabber. He’s got an intensive knowledge of animals and works with other naturalists to protect them and their habitats.

Albert offers you to a cup of tea at the lounge of the hotel he’s staying in, as a way of offering thanks for escorting him back to town.

You happily accept. You never met anyone with such a passion for animals and photography. And he’s never met a woman who shares these same interests.

He asks if you have any photos with you to share with him. He’s a little disappointed to hear you say no, because you’re a bit self-conscious and only share them with people you trust. He understands fully and won’t push further.

With him working so hard to preserve animals and bring awareness, he asks you to be his assistant. He would like someone like you to accompany him; someone with knowledge of the land and technology so he can finish his project faster.

It kind of blind-sided you. You two had only known each other a day and now he’s offering you to stay with him?

He’s super chivalrous though. And educated...kind...sweet.

And handsome.

Why not? So you shook hands and took his offer. The pair of you traveled across the country, capturing the beauty of the land and the regality of the beasts who roam it.

During that time you spent together, you finally started to open up to him. You even let out a bit of that perverse side as you joke with him.

He’s a bit taken aback, tbh. He hasn’t heard a lady speak in such a way, but he realizes this means you’re getting more comfortable around him.

Albert is a very patient man, considering his profession takes a LOT of patience. So whenever you have an off day, he’s kind with you and takes the extra load off of you.

He finally announces to you that he was smitten with you from the day you met. The kindness of your heart and beautiful eyes drew him to you.

After spending much time together, he finishes his portfolio with your help. He’s even managed to have them shown at a gallery!

The date for the opening of the show has been set, and Albert buys you a gorgeous dress and a nice suit for himself. He’s completely nervous on the opening day, and you think he’s worried about critics.

But that couldn’t be further from the truth. He’s nervous because he’s holding a gold ring in his pocket and is trying to find the right moment to give it to you.

At the end of the night, and the show has gone well, you start to walk towards the doors of the gallery. Until, Albert stops you and leads you to the courtyard, dropping down on one knee and asking you to marry him. He professes his love to you, his adoration of your beauty, your humor, and your purity.

The two of you live your lives happily running your own studio, with sabbaticals every so often to document wildlife.

[rebeldaydreams]

requested by @sleepymadi

words: 1.4k

pairing: Arthur Morgan x Gender Neutral Asthmatic Reader

warnings: descriptions of a fairly mild asthma attack

summary: after a stressful encounter whilst out riding, Arthur helps you through an Asthma attack

a/n: I’m not asthmatic so obviously have no experience with it, but I loved this prompt and wanted to give it a go. I hope this is okay and thank you for the request!! ❤️ (I originally posted this as an actual answer to the ask but it completely fucked up the formatting on mobile so I’m redoing it as a text post!)

A little hunting trip with Arthur was all you had planned for the day. You couldn’t say that hunting was your favourite thing in the world - if you didn’t have to do it to survive, you’d avoid it. But, as it happens, living in the wilderness didn’t offer a lot of gourmet meals. It also gave you and Arthur an opportunity for some alone time, which you didn’t get all that often – what with living in a camp with a dozen or so other people.

It had been a quiet, peaceful ride to your usual hunting spot, down by the river, with Arthur making occasional sketches in his journal of anything that caught his eye. You liked riding behind him as it made it easier to watch him, smiling as his face scrunched up in concentration whilst he sketched.

“How d’you even do that whilst on a horse?” you asked. Arthur chuckled, tucking away his journal.

“Practice.” He said smugly, giving you a wink over his shoulder. You smiled.

When you were only a short distance away from the hunting spot, two men armed with rifles emerged from behind trees lining the edge of the road a little way in front of you.

“Well they don’ look too friendly…” Arthur muttered under his breath, holding his hand up as a signal for you to slow down. 

Eventually the two of you came to a halt a little way in front of the men now blocking your path. Arthur gave you a quick glance that said “I’ll handle this.” and, of course, you trusted him with your life, but that didn’t stop the fear that was wrenching at your gut.  

“Can we help you gentlemen?” Arthur drawled, sounding like he was having a casual conversation with someone in a saloon. One of the men stepped forward.

“There’s a toll on this here road. ‘Fraid we can’t let y’all pass without paying up.”

The second man cocked his gun to punctuate the end of the sentence. Arthur made a point of looking around the area in an over-the-top fashion.

“That’s funny, ‘cause…” he turned back to the man who had spoken, looking him dead in the eye. “I don’ see any signs sayin’ anythin’ about a toll.”

“We ain’t playin’ around, Mister.” The man said in a threatening tone. Arthur didn’t even blink.

“Neither am I.” Arthur cautioned. “So why don’t you fellers just step aside if you’d like to walk away from this without a few extra holes in ya’?”

A sudden yelp from you made Arthur whip his head around, and he saw you getting pulled from your horse by a third man neither of you had seen or heard. You felt your breathing quicken, your heart beating out of your chest as you were dragged to stand in front of Arthur’s horse. Everything happened so quickly you barely had to think, never mind react.

Arthur’s hand flew to his stowed revolver.

“Ah ah, not so fast there, cowboy.” the man holding you brought a knife to your throat as a warning and Arthur froze.

One of the armed men stepped forward, aiming at Arthur and motioning him for dismount his horse. Arthur’s eyes flickered across to you, his hand tightening into a fist as he begrudgingly raised his arms and stepped down from his horse.

“No sudden moves, asshole. Or this one gets it.”

The knife was pressed harder against your throat, enough to break the skin and you couldn’t hold back the whimper that left you as blood trickled down your neck. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, your airway feeling like it was getting tighter and tighter. The familiar panic washed over you, your chest tightening as you struggled in the grasp of the man behind you.

One of them slowly approached Arthur, with the intent to relieve him of his weapons, but Arthur was too quick. Before he could react, Arthur had kneed him in the groin and drawn one of his guns, firing off three quick precise shots with a practised hand.

The knife fell from your throat to the road and your three attackers followed suit, blood seeping into the dirt. If you’d been in any fit state, you’d have congratulated Arthur on his accuracy (not that he ever missed).

“Y/N –“ Arthur said in a relieved breath upon seeing you mostly unharmed, though his tone quickly turned to one of worry when he noticed the rapidness of your breathing and the paleness of your face. “Y/N?”

The world felt like it was spinning, you couldn’t focus on anything but the feeling of constriction in your throat and chest.

“I-I can’t…I can’t breathe, Arthur-“ you rasped, one hand clutching at your own chest.

“Hey, you’re all right, darlin’. You’re okay.” Arthur said gently, his hands going to rest on your shoulders. He was wary that the both of you were standing out in the open, surrounded by three dead bodies. Even Arthur would struggle to talk his way out of it if someone caught you in this situation. “We need to get outta’ here – just keep breathing slowly, come with me.”

You nodded, his words sounding distant but you grabbed hold of his arm and let him lead you away. He gave a short whistle and your horses followed behind. You were so focused on trying to breathe that you didn’t even pay attention to where Arthur was taking you. A short while later he sat you down and you looked around to find you were now down near the riverside on a grassy slope – no dead bodies in sight.

“You’re safe.” Arthur said, kneeling in front of you. He took both your hands in his, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “You’re okay.”

“Just take deep breaths, sweetheart. Nice an’ slow.” He demonstrated what he meant, and you looked up, meeting his soft, reassuring gaze, and copied him.

Arthur lifted one hand to your cheek, rubbing his thumb across your skin. The two of you sat like that for a little while, just breathing slowly, with Arthur uttering small praises and comforts to you (“That’s it”, “You’re doing great, darlin’.”) He had a little experience with these attacks of yours now – being an outlaw came with it’s fair share of stressful situations - but only perhaps once before had you had one this bad.

You leaned into his touch, feeling less like you were suffocating now, although you still didn’t feel right. His other hand rested on your thigh, rubbing slowly up and down in a soothing motion. You didn’t know how long you sat like that, maybe 10 minutes, maybe more, but eventually you felt like your breathing was getting back to normal and you weren’t so lightheaded.

His gaze dropped down to the thin cut running along your throat and he frowned. You had almost forgotten about it. Arthur pulled on his neckerchief to undo it, and tenderly looped it around your own neck, tying it in a loose knot just tight enough to cover the cut. As he did this you watched his face, at the concentration in his eyes as he tried not to hurt you and you felt an overwhelming wave of affection for the man wash over you.

“Thank you.” You mumbled softly, covering his hand that was on your thigh with one of your own.

“You don’t need to thank me.” He said, running his fingers through your hair.

You managed a smile. “Yes I do.”

You shuffled forwards, throwing your arms around his neck. Arthur chuckled into your hair and gathered you in his arms, holding you close.

“I got ya’.” He said, pulling you into his lap and pressing a few soft kisses to the top of your head.

The two of you sat like that by the riverside for a while, just enjoying the serenity; the sound of the river and the birds in the trees and the reassuring presence of one another. The gentle beating of his heart as you leant into his chest felt like home, and you wished you could stay like that forever.

Arthur let his eyes close and took in your warmth, focusing on the steadiness of your breathing, of your chest rising and falling as he rubbed circles into your back. These moments of tranquility were few and far between, and suddenly he had the somber realisation that neither of you would ever get to have a quiet life. Still, as he opened his eyes and watched the calm flow of the river and the deer that were grazing on the other side, he realised that perhaps the world wasn’t all bad.

[findafriend]

wow okay.

I’m just going to do a run down of who I am, what sort of things that I like and a few other things.

Madison|Female|17|Description: very shy at first but a little outgoing, friends tell me I can be too nice sometimes, childish for someone my age, short af, can be quite funny sometimes when I want to.

Things I like:

Photography, BTS, Supernatural, Stranger Things, Red Dead Redemption (both games), music, Marvel, food. That’s not a lot but those are the only things that came to mind.

So a few things I’d like to add is I don’t like to message first cause I don’t want to seem annoying or anything like that so just fair warning. I’m hoping sometime in the future we can FaceTime each other.

Well I guess that’s it, sorry if this is very long. Here’s my account if you consider being my internet friend @sleepymadi