#and when micah confronts them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

moonmeg · 8 months

Text

"So, tell me! Where have you been all this time?", Cat asked handing her old friend a mug while sitting down on the sofa herself.

Breena accepted the mug smiling and crossed her legs before she began telling her tale.

"Well, it started with me traveling around the Isles. I wanted adventure, I wanted to see new things and so I packed my things and went."

"Your parents never told us that.", Catherine frowned.

When Ahana and her noticed Breena was gone not even Breena's parents knew where exactly their daughter was. All they had was a note saying to not worry, she'll be fine. Breena didn't have the best relationship with her parents and Catherine remembered the red-haired girl as a fierce and quite rebellious individual - the fact Breena left was not as big a surprise as it should've been. Yet Catherine and Ahana couldn't believe their trio was down to a duo over night and the news hit them hard. The hurt healed over the years whenever they convinced each other Bree is alright wherever she was. They knew their friend after all. Breena was perfectly capable of fending for her own.

"Prolly cause they dinna know either. I dinna tell anyone where I went. Even though it hurt me to leave Ana and ye behind.", Bree mirrored Cat's frown. She took a sip from the mug.

"Without a goodbye.", Cat added. Though what had happened was almost twenty years in the past by now the aching in Cat's heart upon learning she lost a friend, unknowing if she'll ever see her again, still lingered deep.

Breena glanced at Cat. She saw the hurt her friend was feeling and found herself confronted with one of her greatest fears: Having brought pain to a person important to her. It's what she tossed and turned around in bed for even years after she had left. She never wanted to see Cat or Ahana be sad through fault of hers, yet here she was facing the consequences of her own betrayal to herself.

"Forgive me, please. I regretted it every night.", she leaned forward urgently.

Cat looked up at Breena and softly smiled. She reached for her hand and reassured her friend: "Bree... no hard feelings. I forgave you years ago."

Breena sighed in relief. It seemed a big rock finally loosened from her heart. At least she could have Catherine back as a friend. Whether or not Ahana has forgiven or would forgive her and accept her as a friend again she couldn't tell -neither could Cat- but Breena would try to gain it.

Genuine smiles of happiness and gratitude were exchanged before Cat asked Breena to please continue with her story. It had been sixteen years since they last saw each other and Breena had at least one child now. Cat was beyond curious on how that happened. She remembered that in the trio Cat was the only one to ever positively speak of having a family and children. Neither Breena nor Ahana mentioned the wish to become mothers one day. And yet Robyn was playing with Micah down the hall in Robyn's room.

The red-haired woman smiled and continued:

"On my travels I landed at a small tavern. I originally only wanted to get a drink and maybe ask where I could find more provisions. There... there was this pretty lad who caught my attention. We started talking and learned the tavern belonged to his aunt. He himself was son to a farmer at the same village. He offered me a stay at the farm for the night as it was gettin' late, I accepted and one night turned into two, two into three and three nights into weeks."

Bree began to smile sheepishly. Her cheeks slightly flushing a light pink, causing her freckles to stand out more. It was obvious she told this from a feeling of fondness and genuine love. Whoever that "pretty lad" was, he had Bree's full adoration.

Catherine smirked kmowingly and tilted her head: "I doubt it was the fields and animals of the farm that made you stay."

"Course not.", Breena laughed, "I stayed because of my sweet goldie."

"Goldie?", Cat raised a brow in curiosity.

Breena gave her a glance and then stared into the mug. She ran her finger up and down the porcelain surface. Her lips never broke the smile. On the contrary: her face only softened at the image of her husband before her inner eye.

"Aye, his eyes are golden. So I started callin' him that and it kind of developed into a pet name.", she chuckled.

"Well, time went by and things started takin' their rolls. Pinin' turned to a relationship, a relationship turned to an engagement, engagement to a pregnancy and so on and so on."

"So you weren't married yet when you had your first child, eh?"

Cat took a sip as she continued to listen to her friend's story attentively.

"No, no, by the time the bairn was born I was already Mrs. Bower. But I take no shame in admitting Makenna was conceived before that. Titan, some people have a lover and bairns but never married and there's nothin' wrong with that."

"No, of course not!", Catherine held up a hand in defense, "I'm surprised you got married and had children at all. The Bree I remember never seemed like the type to do so."

Breena shrugged.

"People change. 'Specially once love is involved.", her lips curved into a small, fond smile again. The type of smile you wear when you think of your beloved. "My 16 year old self wouldn't believe I'm a wife and mother either.", she turned to Cat again with a laugh.

Catherine joined in on the laugh. Suddenly it felt like they were children again. Sitting by each other and laughing together. Breena may have changed as person but her laugh remained as contagious and loud as ever.

"You have how many?", she asked. The curiosity once again got the better of her.

"Three. Micah's the youngest. And the only boy.", Bree chuckled and sipped from the mug.

Cat, thinking she is sly, replied: "So there's two copies of you waiting at home, huh?"

Her friend scoffed.

"The only thing they copied from me are the freckles. They are copies of their father. Brunette, golden eyes, the same smile, the same face. Micah's the only one to get my red hair additionally to the freckles.", she laughed and sat down more comfortably on the sofa.

Tilting the mug around in circles on her lap she grinned. "Seems our sons take more after us. Robyn is like a carbon copy of ye. A few differences here and there o' course. Surely from the father?"

"Yeah.", Catherine stiffened. She hated that she did. She hated she was still so affected by Caleb's death. She hated her facade of the strong, single mother was so thin and easily breakable. Thankfully, she thought, Breena didn't notice it.

Instead, the freckled woman gleefully leaned back on the sofa, placing her arm on the back of if.

"It's yer turn now. Tell me what I missed in yer life.", Bree tilted her head as she let it rest on her knuckles.

Cat stared blankly and almost automatically started tapping her nails on the mug. She quickly gathered herself again and stuttered:

"Ah- uhm... well, I'll uh I'll spare you the first sob story of my first relationship. Let's just say I was left a heartbroken fool when mh partner left me for another."

"Left ye?", Breena's smile faded.

"For another?", her brows furrowed.

"How dare they?! What's their name? I'll-", she drew a circle into the air and the mug loudly hit the little table in front of the sofa.

Much like Ahana, Breena was ready to hurt whoever dared to hurt Cat. They knew Cat was able to take care of people like that herself but it was just this urge to defend and stand up for Cat no matter what.

"It doesn't matter, Bree. I was twenty when that happened after all.", Catherine cut her off and hoped Bree would let it go. She almost pleaded her to with the look on her face.

Breena kept her angry face but sank into the sofa again. Catherine spoke of that first relationship with such ease that it left Breena to believe she had moved on from it a long time ago and so she calmed down and loosened up the tension in her body.

Cat broke the eye contact with Breena as she thought about how much into detail she wants to go with the love story she shared with Caleb. How much she could go into detail without suddenly breaking into tears uncontrollably.

"Four years down the line, I had put a wall around me and swore off love to avoid being hurt again. Little did I know, the walls I built could so easily be crumbled... and all it took was a young man with short blond hair and the warmest brown eyes. A little frail but handsome. A bit awkward but kind and affectionate. I didn't want to admit it at first but had to give in to the fact that my heart beat faster and louder when he was with me... my blondie. My Caleb.", she smiled in a mix of melancholy and fondness. The images flashing before her when she closed her eyes were so vibrant and clear still. They always were.

She reached for the ring on the silk band around her neck.

"I loved him. I loved him like I never thought I could love someone. Titan, I still do!"

A moment of silence.

Bree eyed her friend worried. It was obvious now that this story does not have a happy ending either.

"But he's not here anymore, is he?", Bree asked.

Catherine shook her head slowly.

"Some people...", Bree scoffed again and crossed her arms in front of her chest, "the audacity they have! You don't deserve that, Cat! To be left alone with a child to raise! The least he could do is show himself to the child he partook in creating."

"Oh, no, Bree, you got it all wrong!", Cat leaned forward towards the other woman, "He didn't abandon me and is now living a life without me and Robyn! He... he was taken from us. Brutally and coldly. By someone he trusted."

The grip on the ring around her neck fastened, as if cenching to it would bring Caleb back.

Breena sat in shock, mouth ajar. It took her a little to get another sound out. She wasn't sure what to say. Wasn't sure what to do.

"Ye- ye're a... a widow?", she asked with hesitation. The information still not fully processed and still in a bit of denial that her friend had to experience her husband dying. That she had to bury the love of her life...

Catherine nodded in confirmation.

"Oh, sweet Titan...", Breena breathed and looked her friend up and down, unsure where to focus on, "Cathy, I-", she began and didn't know how to continue the sentence.

"I'm so sorry!"

"It's alright. I learned to live with it.", Cat tried her best to give a smile.

"But ye shouldna have to! A widow at thirty! That's horrible!", Breena grabbed Catherine by her arm in haste. She began stroking her thumb on Cat's sleeve in an attempt to show comfort.

She projected the situation her friend was in on her own life. The thought of being widowed, of losing her husband, the father of her children, someone so dear and important to her was torturous enough. To actually live through it is something Breena couldn't fathom.

Cat took Bree's freckled hands.

"It's alright, Bree, really. It- it still hurts but Roby and I visit his grave every weekend. I tell him stories and we pretend Caleb is with us, sitting and listening.", she genuinely smiled. However, there was a certain sadness lingering in her teal eyes, Bree noticed. It was almost painful to see Cat like this. It felt worse knowing there was barely anything she could do to help Cat. And it felt worst when she realized she was not there for her friend when she had needed it most.

"Did Robyn ever meet his father?", Breena asked quietly. She hoped Catherine would say "yes, he did.". She hoped the little boy was held in his father's arms at least once. She hoped he had felt the warmth of his father's cradling arms and she hoped he had heard his father's heart beat at least *once*. But Cat's face didn't seem like that would be the answer. Catherine looked down and let out a dry sob.

"I wish he did..."

#tdaac #tdaac comic #toh #the owl house #catherine clawthorne #catherine megpeggs #evelyn clawthorne #breena megpeggs #toh oc #the owl house oc

274 notes · View notes

outlaw-apologist · 1 year

Text

The Gang With a Plus Sized Lover (RDR2 HCs)

What they would be like with a plus sized lover (Headcanons) Mostly gender neutral (mentions of gender in Bill and Micah's) Characters (in the order they appear): Arthur, Charles, Josiah, Micah, Hosea, Dutch, Mary-Beth Warnings: NSFW themes, mentions of fat phobia (mostly in Micah's). This is a little indulgent for me, so please keep that in mind. :) I'm also open to writing for more characters + other scenarios so lmk if you want to see anyone or anything in particular. (Read on AO3 here) Arthur: - God he loves you. Loves the way you’re so soft. You could wrap your whole entire body around him and lay all of your weight on him and it just feels like home. All of his worries melt away. You feel like a could cradling him. His shoulders relax and he feels blissfully warm while holding you and taking in your scent. - When he’s away from you sleeping by himself is almost impossible. His fight or flight is constantly flaring up without your presence and the man can’t sleep for more than an hour at a time. - Arthur’s not shy about scooping you up into his arms or throwing you roughly over his shoulder. He can handle you easily. Your weight has never been an issue for him. If he ever struggles to pick you up (which honestly has never really happened) he sees it as his own personal problem. He needs to make his arms stronger. After throwing around hogtied bounties all day Arthur feels pretty confident when it comes to twirling you around.

- His clothes fit you perfectly. He thought it was cute when his smaller lovers would drown in one of his shirts after a night of love making. But, to be able to wear his clothes EVERYWHERE? And they look so good on you???? When he sees you’re casually wearing one of his shirts for the day it makes his heart pound SO hard. Arthur doesn’t usually care about fashion, but sometimes he buys nice shirts and wears them around so so you’ll steal them. He thinks they’ll suit you better than him and he’s usually right. -Arthur is handsy when he’s feeling needy with his lover. Always in private, of course. He just needs to feel every part of you after being away for so long. Needs to be reassured that you’re really there whenever a traumatic event happens. He loves that there’s just so much of you for him to explore. To worship. It helps ground him in the present. - He really loves touching you. He doesn’t realize it, but you probably do. Something Arthur loves to do is dance with you! Swaying with his hands on your waist, dipping you in his arms, twirling you… He loves the intimacy of dancing with you and watching you giggle whenever you twirl. - He has never met anyone as accepting as you. Arthur’s never thought anything negative about your body but he sure as hell has a lot of insecurities about his own. He’s learned a lot from you about body acceptance and you’re the only person he’s ever been fully comfortable talking about his body with. - Arthur isn’t usually the type to be emotionally vulnerable. When something weighs heavy on his mind or heart he’ll talk about it but never would he let a lover catch him cry. He usually feels too much of a responsibility of being a man or provider. But there’s just something about you… Some nights he crumbles in your arms, sobbing against your softness. - He doesn’t mean to be stereotypical or anything, so when he starts doing this he’s a little shy. Unsure if you’d take offense to it or not. Whenever he goes out on a job or goes into town and spots something yummy he thinks you’d like to eat he’ll always get it for you. - I’m gonna say it… If you have a clothing item Arthur can wear without the others noticing it belongs to you, he will steal it from you. He loves wearing your clothes too, especially when he can smell you on him all day. He just can’t take the teasing from the other fellas. - If he ever catches wind of any comments made about your body or weight Arthur will confront that person with a fiery vengeance. Let’s just say Micah once mysteriously returned to camp with a black eye and wasn’t brave enough to look your way for weeks. -You once opened Arthur’s journal to find sketches of you, your likeness, and your body in beautiful poses. He bashfully apologizes and admits that sometimes you look so ethereal he just can’t get the image of you out of his head. - If you have stretchmarks Arthur makes it his personal mission, every love making session, to kiss every single one of them. Sometimes if you both are laying there naked talking about life, the future, etc. he’ll idly trace them. He finds them very attractive. _____ Charles: - Charles is so picky with people he falls in love with. He’s experienced a lot of… not so great things from other people’s prejudices ,so he’s not one to judge someone based off of how they look. He will sing your praises until the cows come home and defend you if it’s ever needed. He’s a fierce believer that you’re absolutely perfect; body, mind, and soul. - That being said, this man WORSHIPS you in the bedroom. He compliments your beauty, of course, but he prefers to let his hands, mouth, tongue (and cock) do the real talking. Most of the time he doesn’t care about his own needs. If the sun shines through your hair nicely that day or if you just looked cute- Charles immediately makes a mental note to eat you out once you two are alone. - He loves to take his time when he’s hiking. It’s not about who can reach the top first, but about enjoying nature for what it is. Where others might bitch and moan about how they assume you can’t keep up, Charles LOVES going with you. You both spend all the time in the world together. Catching falling leaves in autumn; identifying different wildflowers in spring; watching the elk in winter; and looking for pretty rocks or feathers during the summer months. - Similar to Arthur, Charles can pick you up as if you weigh less than a feather. He likes to tease you by playfully throwing you over his shoulder, pretending he’s kidnapping you. He loves the way it makes you squeal and giggle with delight. - In some ways Charles feels kind of relieved about your weight. He understand it can come with its own set of challenged but he’s seen so many men starve to death. People he’s loved have withered away to nothing once they caught a sickness. He knows it’s probably a false sense of security, but he can’t help but to think your weight might be your saving grace in one of these areas. He knows it sounds bad so he’ll never say it out loud. He’d be beside himself with grief if either of those things ever happen to you. - If he can touch you in some way he will. His hand will always be on your thigh or lacing your fingers together while sitting by the fire. If you go to town with him he’ll always have an arm around you. This surprised you at first because it doesn’t seem like Charles is the PDA type of man. He’s protective of you. He wants everyone to know you chose him as your lover. - Charles feels SO honored to have someone like you. You’re such a natural person. He feels as though people like you are very rare. You two compliment each other perfectly in his opinion. - Imo Charles has a hard time being with very small partners. He’s always afraid of hurting them or crushing them since he’s such a large man. You fit into his arms just right and he knows you can handle him (in more ways than one hehe). _ Saying “My blanket is too small for the both of us… I guess I’ll just have to hold you all night to keep you warm~” instead of buying a blanket bigger than a single size. He gives you the blanket anyway and still holds you. It’s really unnecessary because you want him to hold you regardless of the blanket size but Charles thinks it’s kinda funny. This is the best flirt he’s got, in his opinion. - When he can tell you’re sick of his little joke, Charles disappears for a few days then returns with the most beautiful (and HUGE) bison pelt blanket you’ve ever seen. It’s so big it practically swallows you both up. Charles isn’t one to hunt needlessly, but he knows this was worth it because you both would end up using it for years to come. He still holds you when you sleep but now you have to tell him to get off of you because you’re overheating. _____ Josiah: - I know it’s probably unexpected but I feel like he would literally foam at the mouth for a large lover. - He will ALWAYS be complimenting you, saying the sweetest most romantic things; “You are truly a goddess/god among men, my dear. I mean, look how beautiful you are. Your very presence demands attention.” “My sweet, you were created to be fed grapes and wine at your leisure. To be surrounded by the finest silks money could buy. Oh, how you are nothing short of royalty.” “Your face rivals that of any cherub presented in holy chapels around the world. If priests were to see you they might try to steal you away from me.” - You know those classical paintings that beautifully depict fat women??? He will commission SOOO many paintings of the two of you in that style. “We need to have one for every room in our house! One to put above every fire place, every tea table, and of course the parlor room!” He doesn’t even own a house. What he does with these paintings you have no idea. You did find a small version of one painting in his pocket-watch one time. It was really cute. - He’s a firm believer that you look as if you belong in high society even if that’s the very opposite of how you grew up. He will always beg you to appear on his arm whenever he has to go to Saint Denis. (Or anywhere, honestly. He’s a simp for you.) - Josiah wants you to throw his skinny little ass around. He wants you to sit on his face and break his neck, suffocate him with your ass. He’s ready to get lost in the sauce. He’s definitely the bottom in your relationship. He’ll even call you mommy/daddy if you’re into that. But he definitely has moments where all he wants to do is kiss every inch of you and worship you like a divine being. Especially if you order him to. - You don’t know how he does it, somehow professional tailors always ‘owe him a debt’. It seems as if you’re being fitted for the finest clothes at least once every other week. He loves to dote on you by gifting you the newest fashions they have to offer. - If anyone tries to get information about the gang from him all he does is talk about you. It’s to such an extreme extent that it’s soooo fucking annoying and usually they just let him go because, god damn, they can’t take it anymore. You’re kind of the gang’s saving grace when it comes to his wagging tongue. - Pleading with you for you to get boudoir photos. “Please my dear! Boudoir was made for you!!!” Literally begging you on his knees. - Whenever he disappears for long periods of time he always comes back with an expensive gift. Even if they’re not really your thing he really loves seeing you head to toe in fine (stolen) jewels. _____ Micah: - Micah is the type of man who is outwardly (and loudly) fat phobic but secretly loves to fuck fat people. - If you were his lover… Well, he’d still be fat phobic. I mean, this is Micah we’re talking about. But he’ll make most of his comments about other people and say less and less about you. He doesn’t let go of it entirely. You’re his ‘piggly wiggly’. That’s his idea of a cute nickname. - He will always make public remarks about your weight in a way he thinks is cute/funny? It’s usually very uhhh… questionable. “Let me just hold onto your love handles, sugar.” “Can you hide this in one of your folds for me?” “Uh-oh piggy’s oinkin’ again!” - If you ever get sick of his comments or upset it’s always “Awww c’mere darlin’. You know I’m just messin’ witchu.” while wrapping you up in his arms. - He wouldn’t worship you in the bedroom the way some of the others would. He “prefers a real woman, not some scrawny little starving bitch”. He loves doggy style the most. Loves playing with your ass cheeks. Spreading them and watching his cock vanish inside of you. Occasionally he’ll feel generous and he’ll focus on you more. Usually, if he catches someone else flirting with you or eyeing you he becomes really possessive and takes his frustrations out by fucking your brains out as soon as you’re both alone. - He genuinely finds you very cute and attractive. Micah really doesn’t know what to do with this information. You catch him admiring you whether you’re doing camp chores or robbing a train. - Micah only gives you genuine compliments when he’s really drunk and one else is around. - He would never admit it but he loves to sleep snuggled up to you. He doesn’t sleep often but when he does it’s usually with you. A large soft warm body next to him is just too relaxing for him to resist. -He’ll randomly come up and spank your ass in front of everyone, then he’ll laugh as it jiggles. -But god forbid anyone else around camp makes a comment about your weight. He’ll eat them up real quick. Only he can bully you. ______ Hosea: - Our man Hosea is a lover of love. If you happen to steal his heart after Bessie’s passing he would DIE for you. No, seriously. He will always treat you as an equal to him. Always tend to your needs if there are any. You are the most important person in his world. - Hosea really finds beauty in fat people. He loves curves, softness, warmth. He finds elegance within you. He truly finds your body poetic. Hosea especially loves stretchmarks. Imo he would say the clique “These are your battle scars!” “Your tiger stripes” kinda stuff. But, he would also trace them with curiosity and probably kiss them too. - After a long day he’ll always ask you if you want a massage or a foot rub. When you two have the chance to take a bath together he wants to wash you. He just loves exploring your body and caressing you. - He’s aware that he’s a tiny man. Hosea could never bulk up like the others and how small his clothes are is not lost on him. Sometimes he’ll buy an oversize coat or shirt and wear it around so some of his clothes can fit you. He feels really proud when he notices you steal his coat. However, he knows he can’t get away with doing that often in fear that you might catch on or, god forbid, one of the gang members realizes…. Instead he’ll plop his hat on your head so you can wear that around. He doesn’t want the others to give you a hard time, especially if it’s because of him. - Hosea loves sleeping on your chest. He’ll hold you, kiss you, snuggle you, but there’s a silent agreement between you both that he’s just a little too small (and sickly) to let you sleep on top of him. If he can sleep on your chest??? Catch this man making happy little noises when he’s waking up your arms. - Similar to Trelawny, he loves being seen with you. He also thinks you look as though you belong in high society and so he invites you to come with him when he needs to attend parties. - He makes sure to give you extra compliments whenever you wear new clothes. Hosea wants you to keep your confidence because, in his eyes, you truly look amazing no matter what you choose to wear. “You look stunning, my dear.” “Ah, blessing me with your beauty today?” “Wow! You look amazing. I’m one lucky man.” On the rare occasion he thinks something looks bad on you he’ll gently say “Why don’t we try this on next?” and would suggest another outfit. Then he’ll compliment that outfit so you’ll be happy and change your mind. He could never find it in his heart to be too upfront or rude about it to you. - Cupping your face. Hosea LOVES to cup your round face in his hands whenever he’s wooing you. To stare into your eyes, your soul, and tell you his feelings. You know when he’s having big feelings because it always makes him whirl around and cup your face before he admits to whatever it may be. Usually feelings of intense love for you or fear of losing you. - He dotes on you a lot. He wants to treasure you as much as possible and give you a happy life. After losing Bessie he understands how fragile life and love can be. Hosea will pick-pocket someone just so he could take you out to a nice dinner or rent a fancy room for the night. When Jack tells him about the existence of spaghetti he immediately took you out to a nice spaghetti dinner. _____ Dutch: - Dutch loves a bed warming partner. His favorite thing is when you retire for the night before him and he enters your shared tent to the warmest bed and blankets (and partner) a man could ever dream of. He’s quick to notice your loss of warmth and would wake up immediately if you left. - His comfort place is laying on your chest or thighs while reading. Perferably if he could read his book out-loud to you. - Your waist/back/neck are all points of interest for him. His hand is always on your waist. This is one of the reasons he loves dancing with you. If you’re walking next to him then his hand is placed protectively on the small of your back. When you both have time alone his fingers will trail up and down your neck where he’ll gladly leave kisses or a mark to show the camp you’re his. - I’m gonna be honest, Dutch loves using you in jobs to get intel or to be someone on the inside. It’s not that he has no concern for your safety, but no one would ever assume you’re with Dutch van der Linde’s Boys. You look so sweet and gentle, not like a robber or a thief. Certainly not like an outlaw. You’re perfect. - You find romance novels in his belongings about outlaws and plus sized love interests, though you nor anyone else in the gang have ever caught him reading it. He must be reading it in secret because a few of the page corners are bent so he could find where he left off. - Similar to Hosea, Dutch knows his stature isn’t particularly large. He likes wearing things that are more form fitting. So you don’t feel left out he’d often (conspicuously) place his hat next to you or your belongings for you to ‘steal’. He does the same with his cologne, hoping you’d use it so you’d smell like him. He never says a word, but you catch him placing these things and walking/hopping away like an excited child. He’s not really good at hiding it. He’ll stare at you as if he could silently will you to put on his hat or cologne and would quickly look away whenever you stare back. It’s really cute. The whole camp often watches in amusement. - Whenever someone leaves to go on a job and returns, candy always suddenly appears by your belongings. You have a sneaking suspicion Dutch requests it of his boys. There’s no way Bill of all people would buy you a chocolate bar of his own free will. And if he did Dutch would probably be a little offended by that. - People say Dutch is very charming and good with the ladies. You know this isn’t necessarily true. He’s just blunt and people seem to find that amusing. So when someone asks him why he chose you and Dutch responds with “I like them big” you might feel like dying inside. He means well…. Sort of… _____ Bill: - Bill prefers big. He’s a big man with a big horse, big hat… you catch my drift. It’s honestly not much of a surprise to the other gang members when he starts courting you. Actually, he’s been making flirty passes at you since you first arrived. - Bill somehow becomes shy and blushy whenever he does ANYTHING with you. The others love to make fun of him for this. Honestly it’s very sweet. Holding your hand? Blushing. Feeling you against him? His whole face is bright red right down to his neck. Seeing you naked for the first time? Bill almost dies- - ngl I think Bill will take a page from Micah and give you a nickname based on your weight. His will be a bit more tasteful. Only a bit. Your nickname might be Butterball, Fudge ball, Snowball, ect. If you don’t like being called something of this variety he’ll stop quickly. He really does love snuggling up to you cooing “My little snowball” with heart eyes though! - If his shirts aren’t big on you he sees this as a personal challenge to get bulkier/bigger. When his shirts are big on you he feels such a sense of pride that his partner is wearing his shirt and it’s big on you!!!! Whenever he catches you in one of his flannels it both melts his heart and makes him incredibly horny! Probably about 50% of the time it ends in sex. - Bill really likes to think ‘save a horse ride a cowboy’ is about him!!! He LOVES the cowgirl position and works out his hips and thighs to make sure you can ride easily on his lap. When you’re tired he loves to buck into you. Despite your size he can thrust up into you and move you with little effort. - 2 words…. Food kink. Either him eating food off of you or you eating food off of him. -Bill wants to be bigger than you. So he can scoop you up easily. When you’re next to him you look small in size. During the night if he’s cuddling with you he envelopes your whole body. - He owns a work horse for a reason. Horse rides to see the sunset is something he loves to do. He knows his horse can go long distances with both of you on its back. He prefers you to sit in front of him so he can wrap his arms around you while you ride off. Once you find some place beautiful to watch the sun disappear he’ll kiss your hair and neck, whispering to you how beautiful he thinks you are or how lucky he is to have you. - Though he is not the most educated of the bunch he has written poems for you about your curves and your beauty. Javier finds one and turns it into a song so he could embarrass Bill in front of everyone. However, he keeps it tasteful on your behalf so it doesn’t embarrass you the way it does your lover. _____ Mary-Beth: - Mary-Beth finds your size sooooo romantic! She easily daydreams of you as a lost king/queen from a far away kingdom. Or a secret member of a royal family. Sometimes she thinks of you as an adventurous mer-person. She’s written stories and enthralling tales of the two of you together in many different fantasy settings. - Arthur doesn’t really use his camera so she begs to borrow it. Mary-Beth can be quite handy when she wants to be. She ‘borrows’ fancy clothes and jewelry around town so the both of you can dress up and have a photo shoot. Somehow she enlists Karen to taking saucy photos of you both. You guys have the time of your lives! Later on those pictures are lovingly placed in a photo album for safe keeping. - She tries to draw you, she really does. She loves all of your curves, stretchmarks and rolls. Wishes she could capture your likeness. But it turns out kind of funny. You both laugh and enjoy the picture anyway. - During sex she’s very curious. Mary-Beth is shy but she also wants you to feel as amazing as she sees you. The only way to do this, in her opinion, is to touch and kiss every inch of you. She describes parts of you poetically as she goes along so you can understand her thoughts. - Mary-Beth steals your clothes all the time! Whenever you can’t find something she’s probably wearing it. Karen or Tilly will tease her about it but all Mary-Beth does is gush about how she LOVES wearing your clothing. It’s so comfy and romantic to her! - You’re so soft! She’s always trying to sit in your lap or plop on top of you – giggling all the while. - During nights where she’s feeling particularly stressed or upset about something she’ll come to your bed sniffling “Please, can you just hold me awhile?” and would climb into bed with you while clinging to you. You bring her great comfort and she thinks you give the best hugs out of everyone. - While she is sweet there’s also sometimes a wicked streak in her. There’s been a few moments where she loves to start making out with you in front of a group of men while Karen or Lenny pick-pockets them. You two sure know how to draw a crowd. However, you’ve only done this a few times.

662 notes · View notes

immajustvibehere · 1 year

Text

Spark (5/8)

Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader - Enemies to Lovers

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

warnings: scars, wounds, needles, talk about abuse

link to my masterlist

first chapter, second chapter, third chapter, fourth chapter

3300 words, 17 minutes reading time

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I lost a fight", you grunted.

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

"No! No doctor."

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

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

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

"Went off a while ago."

"Micah?"

"I have no fucking clue."

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

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

Arthur hurried to the bar.

"Got a free room?"

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

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

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

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

You only shook your head.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Fuck you, Morgan", you groaned.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Ya tellin' me that Micah-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

next chapter: here

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #red dead redemption community #rdr2 #rdr2 fanfiction #arthur morgan x female reader #rdr #rdr fanfiction

184 notes · View notes

moonah-rose · 1 year

Text

"Dutch never cared, Dutch never loved them." No hate if you believe that but, for me, the reason Dutch is so fascinating is because (imo) he did care. Because he did have a heart. Because he wasn't just a monster.

Does that still make him a liar and manipulator? Hell yes. To the point that he himself bought into every bit of bullshit he said. When he says this man who is only eight years younger than him is his son, he believes that. When he says he would give his life for any of his gang in Colter, in the moment he believes that. But acting on what he believes is another story. I think Dutch is an expert at disassociating from reality. What do you mean he "ran away" and left Arthur for death, of course not, he did no such thing - or so he will convince himself as much as the others. What do you mean he didn't have a plan to rescue John from jail, of course he did....He just hadn't thought of it yet and they were only "talking" of hanging him so it's not that big of a deal - again, so he convinces himself. Even years later when John is confronting him, he still deflects with putting it on his son or how he "didn't have a choice." Dutch convinces himself that he has no active role in the awful things that happen to those he cares about. It doesn't mean he wouldn't want to save them...but he just doesn't.

Just like how Mary talks about Arthur being a good man wrestling with a giant, Dutch is wrestling with a coward and the coward wins more as the story progresses. I think this is what is meant more when he tells John that all he ever did, all his life, was fight but he can't fight his own nature, again deflecting the responsibility of his actions. Sure he kills people in terrible ways but the worst sins that weigh on him are his inability to act for those he loves. His failure to save Hosea even though the robbery wasn't his idea he does it still, his failure to do anything but run away when his sons needed saving. He even tries to run from the grief itself when his partner of over twenty years dies and it contributes to his mental instability (see the chess scene like in Lakay, c'mon, dude is clearly not with it).

This isn't me defending Dutch in any way, I just finished a second playthrough and spent every second he was on screen cursing at the tv again. But I do think he was a man who genuinely did believe in his philosophy, who tried to be a better leader to his gang than someone like Colm - a father even - and I do believe he loved Hosea, Arthur, John, Jack, Tilly, Sean, Lenny and maybe some others. The scenes with "the old guard" laughing, fishing and reminiscing seem pointless without there being a real foundation there. The scenes in chapter six where Arthur and Micah are positioned like an angel and devil either side of Dutch as opposed to just Dutch and Micah on the same side all the time, as well as the performance itself, show Dutch being pulled and struggling to decide what is right, he just always picks the wrong one. Dutch's broken reaction to Arthur's final words only make sense if you believe there's a heart in there to be broken, if there's a man inside who is aware - even just partly - that he's done wrong and failed. The only reason he'd have to kill Micah and leave John the money is if there was some part of him that has spent the last seven years being haunted by his actions and wanted to find some way to make up for them. A truly evil, heartless person would have killed John there and then and taken the money. All of this only works if there was love in the first place.

The problem is, and to quote His Dark Materials, love isn't always enough. It's not enough to fight against an obvious mental illness, it's not enough to stop you being a coward and letting those you love suffer for the sake of your own survival. Dutch is obviously a narcissist but narcissists are not incapable of love, it's just their view of the world is very inward, and those that they love are seen as extensions of themselves (often parents with children). The reason Arthur could win his internal struggle is because he was able to see a world beyond his own life and needs; Dutch couldn't, as much as he probably liked to believe he could be capable of doing so even if just to be the hero the gang saw him as. He wanted faith but I don't think he truly had any in himself as much as the rest of the gang did by the final chapter, and with Arthur's death it breaks any last delusions he had about himself, to the point that seven years later he can no longer give a big long speech to justify himself, he just "ain't got much to say no more". If those aren't the words of a broken man then I don't know what is.

(Please don't confuse "broken man" with "poor little meow meow", tumblr, I see you).

#rdr2 meta #dutch van der linde #rdr2 character study #red dead redemption 2 #rdr2

280 notes · View notes

lovearthur · 1 month

Note

Hellooooo!!!!!! Can I please have a scene and/ or Headcannons where it is set after the events of rdr2 in 1908, one year after Sadie Charles and John successfully defeated Micah. Sadies fem s/o is at home one day in her cozy ranch farm house. Sadie is standing in the shadows in the corner of the living room, quietly not to alert her s/o. Sadie has come back from a long bounty hunt trip and after a few weeks of being away she is finally home. she is planning to surprise her s/o. As fem reader has finished cooking the food and has cleaned the entire house, she is finishing up with washing and drying her hands. As she goes to walk over to the sofa, suddenly Sadie comes into view with a mischievous yet warm smile. Fem reader sees Sadie and yelps. She is stunned to see Sadie standing in front of her. There is nothing but silence for a few seconds before she gets emotional and hugs Sadie with a warm embrace. They kiss lovingly. Their poodle dog comes into view and happily barks around their feet. Sadie picks up the dog and all 3 of them embrace. Sadie is finally happy to be home and her s/o and their poodle are even happier to have her back. They sit down to enjoy a warm delicious meal prepared by fem reader and they enjoy each others company while eating contently. A little while later they freshen up and go into bed together to cuddle as they chat for a little bit. They fall asleep contently in each others arms, safe, warm happy and loved.

𝒔𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒕 𝒃𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒚 𝒍𝒊𝒇𝒆 (𝒔𝒂𝒅𝒊𝒆 𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒆𝒓 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓)

𝓑𝓔𝓕𝓞𝓡𝓔 𝓨𝓞𝓤 𝓡𝓔𝓐𝓓! fem/afab reader . lesbians . ending spoilers of rdr2 . epilogue events . arthur teasing sadie . sadie is a cutie . suggestive.

d/n is dog's name!!

its been a year. its been a since all of that... happened and u were happy about it but god, u hated the way it all ended. sadie too.

u missed all the good few people that came with the gang; tilly, mary-beth, charles, karen, trelawny, ms. grimshaw... but the person u deeply missed was arthur. the memories that u have of him were so bittersweet to think about now, ur favourite of him when u overheard him teasing her...

╔══♡══════ღ═══════════════════════════╗

"no- it ain't like that, arthur. she's jus'... she's just nice, i like her. i like her company."

"i like her company too but it ain't me who gets all red like that. 'nd from what i see, she likes ya, too. no fellar catches a lady's gaze fer that long."

"oh, shut up, will ya?" and then she caught u, staring at her. and that confirmed arthur's words as a smirk slowly works on ur face.

╚═══════════════════════════ღ══════♡══╝

arthur was brooding, burly and rough around the edge, yet he was kind to u and the rest regardless of what he thought about himself. since if it wasnt for him then who knows what would've happened to u and ur lovergirl nd the rest of u? although, u knew how close ur girlfriend was with him before he died. he was good and he did good, well... most of the time. to u, he was a good man.

sadie adler. she was ur lover and has been for a long while now. there was a stark confront between the two of u. sadie was feisty, she wasn't afraid to stand up for herself unlike u. because u were the real feminine type; bows, ruffles, pink, frills, lace, pearls. when u first joined the gang and started getting comfortable with the women there, she slowly warmed up to u. it started off with checking up on u, giving u coffee, being there for u when u needed her. there were even times where she got u a gift.

"hey [name], i got this little necklace fer ya, its real pretty 'nd it reminded me of ya."

with the convincing from mary-beth, after a while, u were so so sure that she was attracted to u.. always catch her stealing glances, even see her gazing at u when ur shirt gets soaked during ur chores or when u bend down to pick something up...

but now here u are, in 1908; in the kitchen of ur sweet ranch, cleaning and tidying up while the sunset casting a yellow-orange through the window. u were humming to urself, listening to ur dog snoring in another room as u continue to clean counter tops and the wooden table where u and ur lover wiuld sit and eat. ur mind fell to sadie once again, u adore- no, u love sadie with every fibre of ur being. shes out always out on bounty hunting so u always hoped she'd come back in one piece. feeling nostalgic, ur brain vividly plays the memory of how embarrassed and flustered she got after she confessed her feelings to u, which then has a giggle escape ur soft lips just thinking about it. u always miss her but u understood, u knew how long her trips could take and u respect that, leaving u and ur dog always patiently wait for her return... what u didn't know is that sadie was already home, she was leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, watching u with a smirk on her face as she looked at u up and down as u clean. u were so pretty, beautiful, even. with those doe eyes and lashes of urs, she had a soft spot for u and u both knew it. with her being back? she was wanted to surprise u and with now being an outlaw, it gave her the talent to walk quietly like a mouse. u make ur way to ths couch, with d/n following on behind u and u felt like u were the most boredest girl in the world, just waiting on ur lover come home from her bounty hunting trip... u were always like this, u always missed her, but u understood what she did. u couldn't help it, u just.... u love her so, so much.

"ain't I jus' a lucky woman to have ya waitin' for me?"

u knew that voice from anywhere. that raspy southern drawl of hers was locked in ur brain. u loved her voice to bits, ur girlfriend was finally back home! u felt... oh, so many emotions.

u look up immediately, and a sqeal leaves ur pink lips, realising its her. her and that goddamn smirk of hers. u were speechless - like a deer in headlights! how did u not even realise she came in? did u not hear her? how could u- "well, ya gonna hug me or what, darlin'?" feeling urself become all emotional, u quickly made ur way over to her, ur arms wrapping around her neck as u cling onto her like she was the last person on earth. oh, u were so relieved that she was alright! u were so happy and even more head over heels for her! u were like a lovesick girl again. it didn't take long before u felt sadie's rough hands go under ur white blouse, feeling her hands rests on ur hips. "missed ya so much, sadie... ye were gone fer so long." u murmur softly into the crook of her neck, u felt her tense up slightly as ur soft breathe hit her skin. "i missed ya too, my sweet girl.." a sweet silence fell between u, her touch always gave u comfort that u deeply craved her. despite her hardened life, she was always sweet and gentle towards u, any chance she got, her hands were always all over u in more ways than one. out of overwhelming feelings, u then place ur lips against hers and how lovely that felt.. the butterflies in ur stomach were fluttering like crazy! without hesitation, she kissed u back, deepening the kiss as she wraps her arms around ur waist tightly, like she was making sure u wouldnt escape her grasp and u loved it. oh, u loved every moment when u felt how protective she could be, it was like a reminder. like one time, when u were both in a daloon in Blackwater, she had her arm wrapped around ur waist tightly as she seen some of the men's eyes oogling at u from afar. and yet, she felt lucky, knowing that none of have u. u were her girl, her woman. and only, her woman. and now, u felt like u were on cloud nine! she made u feel so so special and like u were the only girl in the whole state, no- the whole world, even. the peace was quickly ruined as u hear ur d/n barking as she makes their way towards u both. sadie picks her up before embracing u once again.

it wasn't too long before u were making one of sadie's favourite meals while she was sitting at the table, the smirk plastered on her face while she's keeping her gaze on ur figure. she loved u more than anything in the world, she felt quite the lucky women being by ur side. u placed her bowl in front her before sitting down in front of her with ur bowl of food. "looks good as always, angel." and a smile appears on ur face from her words. "jus' fer you, ya bounty hunter." u teased which earned a smug chuckle from her after she takes a bite of her food. "keep talkin like that 'nd I'll show ya why i am a bounty hunter..." she had u wrapped around her finger! u felt the blood rise to ur cheeks as u take a bite of ur food. this little back and forth continue for the whole dinner and u didn't mind one bit. she told u all about the bounty then u told her all about ur day. she was always a good listener.

it was now late at night, sadie was getting herself comfortable on the bed while u were in the bathroom, adjusting ur appearance. u were so glad that she was home now, after days and days of wanting her home, needing her home.. she's finally back. and u can have her all to urself. it made u all giddy and excited like a teenage girl again, just thinking about it! "u comin' to join me, honey?" and at the sound of her voice, u quickly made ur way over then crawled into bed beside her. didn't take too long before u felt her chest pressed against ur back, feeling her arms under ur chemise as they wrap around ur waist, her soft breathing hitting ur neck. "'m glad yer back home... I missed ya dearly, hon.." she gave ur waist a slight squeeze, making u feel butterflies in ur stomach once again. "ye have me all to yerself fer a while before i need to do it all again." she murmured against ur neck. u smiled at her words while u adjusted urself. "we should go see the marston's again, i miss them." sadie inched closer to u, hummed softly at ur words "mhm.. 'course, my angel." u know she was tired, she was always exhausted after a long weeks of her job so u couldn't blame her. as ur eyes close, u feel sadie slowly begin to kiss ur neck. her soft wet kisses trailing down to ur shoulders. "sadie, i-" u felt heat pool low in ur abdomen as u hear her chuckle, gosh that girl... "i know, i know, but i can't help myself when I'm around u, [name]..." and she continued "yer so pretty... 'm glad yer my girl, don't want anyone but you." a small giggles escapes ur lips before sadie backs off and re-adjusts herself against u. after a little while, u both fall into a deep slumber 𐰁 𝗓 ᶻ

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #sadie adler #sadie adler x reader #sadie adler x fem!reader #sadie rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic

27 notes · View notes

stalkurs · 10 months

Text

Since Y/N had joined the gang, everyone noticed strange things happening with Javier. He would be caught staring several time, at Y/N. Or when Author went through his journal he found several things mentioning the young woman. Author confronted the man of his writings, sending Javier in a panic. Javier begged and bribed him to stay quiet about what he found, and Author agreed.

Javier lost $300 that day, but gained the silence. Y/N had began to notice Javier's actions as well, along with waking up to a Daisy next to their cot every morning. The sudden appearance of the flower every day began to make her wonder of who was leaving the flowers. So, they made a plan to figure out. They had their suspicions but just wanted to be sure.

Y/N lays quietly in their cot, tonight was cold and creepily silent. The entire gang had fell asleep a while ago but the young lady stayed awake. Their eyes closed as all they did was listen. Tuning out the screaming bugs and coyotes. It seemed like an eternity had passed before a different kind of noise was made.

The sound of boots on grass. Her hearing perked as she began to relax, pretending to sleep. The flap of her tent was pulled open, and a few more smaller and quieter steps were made. It was silent for a few seconds before a warm feeling was placed on her forehead, and the tent flap opened again. Before whoever the person was could close the tent Y/N opened her eyes, it was Micah.

——Morning——

Y/N sat at the edge of the creek. Thinking back on last nights events, gagging. She couldn't believe Micah was the one leaving the flowers. Disgusting. As she sat there, staring at the water and the fish jumping past the surface, Javier came up and sat next to her.

He too just sat there, staring out the same direction as Y/N.

"What's in your mind, my friend?" He turned to look at her.

Y/N let out another shudder before speaking. Telling Javier of what Micah has been doing. A look of pure anger and jealously covered Javiers face as he scooted closer to Y/N. Rubbing smaller circles on their back with his thumb. Attempting to comfort the woman.

Y/N had never liked Micah, saying he's a dirty lair and buddies with people to help himself. Especially with how he treated Sadie wen he found her.

That night when Y/N laid down to sleep Javier sat on a stool in the corner of her tent as well. His arms crossed as he stared at the resting woman across from him. His dark eyes studying her features that he adored so much. As it continued to get later, darker, and quieter Javier would nod off. He sat still, hunched over, his arms crossed.

Before he's out for the night he hears heavy footsteps and his head jerked. He waited silently as the one and only Micah appeared in the tent. A white daisy in his dirty hands.

"Mr.Bell, what are you doing here so late?" Javier has a cocky tone as Micah was startled.

Micah jerked his head, looking at Javier. An expression of pure irritation appearing in his tanned face.

"Seems I should be asking you the same." He scowled.

Javier stands, moving to stand straight in front of Micah. Blocking him from going any further into the tent. Before he could say anything a groan and shuffling was heard as Y/N moved to lay on her side, facing them. Her eyes barely open as she waved Micah away. Grumbling something about him.

Not wanting to upset the woman anymore towards him Micah left, swearing under his breath. Javier was about to leave as well before he left a tug in his wrist. Y/N set up and swung their legs over the edge of the bed and rubbed their eyes. Making Javiers heart melt and made him swoon mentally at the woman.

"Don't leave. He'll just come right on back once your gone."

Javier nodded at the request and sat back into the stool. The old price of wood screaming under the extra weight. It wasn't long before how it was in the beginning. Y/N laying asleep in her cot and Javier on the stool, asleep. Before long, the sun had risen.

Chickens squawked, and the gangs dog was barking. Javier opened his eyes to see Y/N gone. As he stood something fell from his shoulders. Turning around to investigate he saw Y/N jacket, it must had been sprawled across his back and shoulders. A note sat on the end table, a top sat a daisy.

"Dearest Y/N,

Damned Javier got in the way of your daily gift. I'm sorry to had been a bother and let Javier ruin your beauty rest. Not that you need it, your already to most beautiful girl I've ever seen-"

Javier already knew it was a note from Micah to Y/N. Javier grabbed the daisy and threw it on the ground, stomping it. Next, he yanked the note from the desk and ripped it up. The note had contained a lot creepier words that he didn't want Y/N to read if she hadn't already. Javier quietly left the tent, brows furrowed. He was not happy with Micah, and he was about to make sure he knew that.

#fanfiction #fanfic #x reader #javier #javier escuella #javier escuella x reader #red dead redemption fanfiction #red dead redemption #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fandom #rdr2

94 notes · View notes

shinobufied · 1 year

Text

one thing I dislike about the take that Dutch has ~always been that way~ and just kinda acted sane (as far as that works) for +20 years is that it paints Hosea as a complete fool.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Hosea is completely untouchable, out of this world, a god amongst humans but he isn't stupid. As far as we are concerned he is a master at seeing through people, he reads them and tricks them like no other.

He's very smart and observant, often the one to take a step back and think things through thrice before investing into them and somehow you want to tell me he looked at loud, boisterous, energetic (supposedly manipulative) Dutch at the very beginning and thought "my god this guy is full of shit"?

Now, we don't really have any insight on how they really were before Blackwater or even years back when they took in Arthur but I truly and utterly believe that Dutch was making a real effort to do good, from the bottom of his heart, that he really tried to be better and ultimately failed. (and yeah, surely partly bc it stroked his ego but nonetheless)

Like, the first time we see, or rather hear that Dutch may be a little silly is in Colter, right after Blackwater when it was revelaed that he killed an innocent woman. This was also the very first severe stress situation we have "seen" Dutch in. He got lead on, maybe even set up after what sounded like a long period of luck and success and now him and everyone tagging along is in danger and everything has gone to shit.

The one that then seemed increasingly concerned and insisted on knowing what happened was Hosea. My thoughts are that Hosea knew that Dutch tended to act rash in stressful situations and that there was something nagging on his conscious, telling him that something went horribly wrong. Because he knew Dutch.

Dutch on the other hand started to grow desperate. He didn't just lose a ton of money and got the law after them all once again, but he also lost 3 members of the gang. 3 people to who he promised freedom and a good life gone just like that + he also started to feel the others losing hope and maybe he was confronted with the idea that maybe what he was doing wasn't as good and great as he has thought throughout all these years.

So he grows defensiv and even reckless because no, it can't be, him facing the fact that his time was not only over but he probably wasted all these years was a tad too painful, both for his ego but also for his being.

As time goes on he keeps slipping more and more since everything he does just seems to blow up right back into his face. The more he tries to fix the more to shit it goes and the desperation just seems to grow and grow.

So he clings to every little thing that keeps on making him believe that his cause is still good, that he's still doing right so he comes up with nonesense plans like Tahiti.

But most importantly, his probably biggest reminder still was Hosea. As long as Hosea was still there, still by his side it would be alright. Yeah, Hosea nags him all the time and they bicker and fight all the time, but he's still there, so that means he still believes in Dutch. With Hosea he could do it.

And then Hosea dies.

And the failure at the bank is so much worse than all the ones before because this time it wasn't Dutch that set things up, or Micah, or anyone else but it was Hosea. The very person that grounded him, that he clung to desperately to show him that his efforts are not in vain.

The disaster at the bank didn't only cost him Hosea, his life long partner, the person he trusted the most, but also the trust from the rest of the gang. John was already doubting him for some time now and now the others started to, too.

And maybe, maybe him doing all this what he thought of good these past years, saving and taking in people, wasn't the best for them at all. Maybe he doomed them more than anything.

But no, Micah is still at his side. And Bill. And Javier.

Well, if there's some people still believing in him then there has to be some truth to it, no?

Maybe Micah is right, maybe John is the rat. Or Abigail. Or Arthur.

Maybe all the others are just ungrateful. Maybe he gave them all and the moment he slips and fails they just leave?

Hosea woulnd't have. Hosea stayed with him.

Micah stayed with him.

And as he was on that mountain, looking at the boy he raised as his own, barely able to breath and all beaten up, telling him "I gave you all I had", that was the first time the realization of him not being as great, as good, as he hoped to be, as he tried to be, fully hit him and now he couldn't do anything but accept it. No denying it anymore, no deluding it. Just the cold truth.

#character study #kind of?#dutch van der linde #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #hosea matthews #tbh i dont think him hitting his head was the cause of him going silly #he was always just a little insane and just wanted to proof himself #this is not a dutch defend post btw any of u accuse me of that and im taking ur grandmas kneecaps #he was quite hot when he drowned bronte tho ill give him that #also tbh maybe him hitting his head was kind of part of his madness but absolutely not all of it #annies brainjuice #i wrote this in my free period looking like a piece of trash so if u see any mistakes in this or something go die idk

301 notes · View notes

red-dead-do-over246 · 1 year

Note

I'm in love with your witings , You are really talented ♡♡ ! , and I was wondering if you could write something like How will the gang members [arthur,dutch,micah,and anyone you like] react to f!reader who wears glasses because she had a very bad eyesight? (she's very insecure about it) and its fine if you dont want to

Thank you anon!💖💖 I think I will also add Sean to this list XD

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Gang Members (Arthur, Dutch, Micah, and Sean) React to Fem!Reader Who Wears Glasses Because of Poor Eyesight

Arthur Morgan

-We all know it's hard for Arthur to express himself a lot of the time, especially when it's around a lady as pretty as yourself. When he first notices your glasses, he pretends he doesn't notice as to not make you feel weird or anything.

-But he's a piss poor actor (Hosea's working on it), so you just make a comment yourself to reel him back in.

-You explain how poor your eyesight is without them, and that you need them to see practically anything. You were insecure about it, so Arthur's hesitation was well intended. But you could also sense that Arthur was going to be awkward until you told him.

-Sometimes he overreacts and thinks you are deathly blind, which leaves you embarrassed and having to remind him that you are just fine with your glasses.

-He's a respectful man to those he likes, so you knew you had nothing to worry about when it came to him teasing you or something. Arthur still noticed your discomfort and apologized if it was his fault.

-This led you guys to having long thoughtful discussions about insecurities and what not. The two of you trusted each other, so there was no worries. Just closure.

-And if anyone dared make a comment on your glasses, Arthur would send one of his sharp insults their way to shut them up.

Dutch van der Linde

-Dutch is a master with words and charm, and he takes interest to nearly every female body in camp, you included. To be honest, Dutch didn't even notice your glasses at first. All he paid attention to was the books you were reading.

-It takes a comment from Hosea to you about your glasses (cause you trusted the olde man), to make Dutch realize that you don't only wear them when you read.

-Dutch being Dutch confronted you smoothly on the matter. He was a curious man after all and none of his other gang members seemed to wear glasses. You were shy about answering. Not only were you insecure about the whole thing, but this was also Dutch here.

-You eventually were conned into telling him, Dutch using all his pretty words into making you cave. You were ashamed that he wouldn't want you here because you couldn't basically do anything without your glasses.

-But Dutch seemed to find you more endearing, like a fragile flower.

-He doesn't bring your glasses up again, acting like they aren't even there for the sake of your self-esteem. However, you can catch him staring at some points, like you were a deer who would bolt if he dare made a move.

-But not words were ever brought up by anyone ever. He made sure of that, and he made sure to give you some books now and again to keep a smile on your face.

Micah Bell

-We all know that Micah would be an absolute asshole at first. He may be a bit "softer" on the women, but he picks out anything he sees as a weakness and attacks. Some others know about your glasses, but when they notice that he notices, they get worried.

-He practically snatches them from your face, causing you to shriek as he examines them with a squint in his eyes.

-Your sudden fear is what shocks him the most, not understanding why losing (what he considers) such a stupid trinket would cause you to panic. When you tell him that you can't see, he gives them back to you as you scramble to put them on. Of course, he makes a sly comment.

-Did he give them back to you out of pity? Fear of getting Dutch on his ass? Something else? Micah himself didn't really know. All he did know is that your eyesight was very poor, which is why you never went out on any missions.

-It takes a couple days, but he eventually works up the stomach to apologize to you. It's forced and not very convincing, but it was enough to get you to admit why you freaked out, confirming what he thought.

-It was a weird conversation to have with him because Micah never seemed like a caring type. But then, after a moment, he asked if they really worked, so you offered to have him try them on. This was the one time that you seemed to smile with him, especially when he said he was more blind with them on.

-He may tease you from time to time, raising your insecurities somewhat. But eventually, the nickname "four eyes" became something of a term of endearment. In the end, he actually offers to teach you how to shoot.

Sean Macguire

-Sean is the most endearing little bean that makes everyone smile. He is probably the only one who makes you forget about your insecurities because he is so good at making you laugh and feeling like you are special.

-But he's also someone who won't leave you alone when he becomes interested in something. So when he sees your glasses, he's glued to you.

-Sean's instincts tell him to compliment you because your a woman, but his childish curiosity tells him to ask about your glasses. So, he does both at the same time. Telling you how pretty you look with your glasses.

-Of course, this leaves you as a flustered mess, so you eventually tell him that they aren't there for show but rather you need them to see because you are practically blind without them. Sean doesn't really understand and takes the glasses from your face to look at them.

-Sensing your worry, he puts them on his own face and jokingly asks if their magic and will help him read better. His goal to make you giggle is a success, so he hands your lifeline back to you.

-Sean sees himself as the only one who gets permission to bring up your glasses, so anyone else who does (even if it's an innocent comment) get to face him and his Irish accent stating how no one else but him gets to talk to you like that.

-He's the one who makes you feel better about your glasses, and you love how much he loves to make you smile. Your insecurity is almost nonexistent around him. God bless Sean for being in your life.

247 notes · View notes

absentcigarettes · 3 months

Text

Whiskey Through Anger

Relationship: Arthur Morgan/Charles Smith

Word Count: 6751

Summary: Arthur near pitied the women who'd slept with Charles. He confused pity for envy. charles is mad bcs of the poachers who killed the bison, Arthur cheers him up by lending him his ass

Note: was my first time writing smut so it may be cringe. also it's completely un-beta'd so it might have mistakes

read on ao3

I need a drink.

That was the first thing Charles had thought after leaving the hunter bastards' camp. It was likely the only thing that would take his mind off of the merciless cruelty imposed upon those poor bison. It would also distract him from the unneglectable urge within him to hunt down the man who'd paid those poachers himself. That- and a quick fuck. Preferably with one of the saloon girls. The prostitutes would work, but most of them weren't as appealing to Charles; most looking for rich men rather than a good time. And it did well for Charles's ego whenever he successfully wooed the women into sleeping with him. On the way to Valentine, he'd suddenly remembered Taima's need to be brushed and fed. So with the most miniscule amount of sense left in his mind that had thankfully not been overtaken by the rumbling rage travelling through his veins, he turned back and rode towards camp.

He leaned against a tree, beside the horse's hitching posts, awaiting Taima's return from the lakeside. Earlier, he'd decided to settle for a quick shave. If he was gonna fuck, may as well be presentable. He shaved frequently but not daily; he wasn't into the scraggly, unkempt beards most men in the gang had. Except Arthur. That man could make anything Charles found revolting to be absolutely alluring.

Taima had returned, as he knew she would. "Here, girl.." He reached his hand out, to which she happily nestled her head in the palm of his hand. He felt his fury dissipate.

Until Micah came.

"Darkie!" The rough shrill of his voice called, "Where's your boyfriend?" Boyfriend. A nickname begun by Dutch to tease Arthur as he'd been seen frequently hanging around Charles more often. It ain't helped that they'd barely ever spoken up 'til Colter and that Charles rarely hung out with people. At best, he drank with Javier and John. Any other interaction with the gang members weren't personal. He didn't mind the nickname. But Arthur sure did, and that stung somehow.

"Excuse me?" His fury returned.

Micah leaned nearer, "You deaf, redskin?" He snarled, shoving him back. Charles could smell the nauseating toxins released from his mouth; Micah's breath was worse than a pile of rotting corpses.

Charles shoved Micah back. Harder. Micah fell back, knocking over the wooden crates behind him, as well as everything on them. The sound of the gang's belongings clattering on the dirt caused heads to turn in their direction. With the tip of his boot, he'd kicked Micah hard in the stomach, "Fuck." Another kick, "You." One final blow.

He considered spitting on him, but decided against it. He wouldn't resort to such feeble means to take his anger out.

"Let's go, girl," He said to Taima, jumping on his horse, who neighed in agreement before galloping away.

"Gimme a whiskey." He'd barged into the saloon and sat at the counter. The bartender was often friendly with Charles; despite the short time they'd been there, Charles had frequented going there to drink with Javier and at times, uninvited imbeciles such as Bill and when really unlucky- Uncle. Instead of striking up a conversation, as Charles usually would to pass the time, he stared at the bartender with dark eyes, expectantly awaiting his drink. It was evident that he was in a sour mood, so a glass was poured and served swiftly and without a word.

He took the sip, taking pleasure in how the burn in his throat so effectively distracted him from the seething wrath consuming him. Stirring the clear bronze liquid with his finger, he couldn't help but remember how he'd confronted those poachers. The anger that had overtaken him in that moment. The loud blast of the gunshot he'd heard after subconsciously shooting a dent in the man's face. He didn't regret it.

Suddenly, he remembered the cowardly pleas of the second poacher. How much he took pleasure in watching the man squirm. And suddenly- Arthur stepped in.

Arthur.

Oh, how his heart softened for that man.

He'd regretted yelling at him for letting the pathetic bastard go. He was always much more of a better man than Charles could ever be. Through his blind hatred, he couldn't think right, but there Arthur was. Returning to him his sight and helping him retrieve his mind- though, simultaneously overtaking his heart. After having first laid eyes on him back in Blackwater, the snarky cowboy with wits as well as beauty- he could never stop looking at him. For him. Whenever he'd leave Charles's line of sight, his eyes would instinctually begin to search for the man once more. He remembered wandering around the area for no particular reason but to catch a glimpse of him. At the time, he wasn't the kind to drink often, but whenever he was asked to tag along and told that Arthur would follow, he accepted immediately.

Pathetic. He thought. How delusional.

The man would never love him. He knew this. If by some miracle Arthur Morgan, the Van der Linde gang's best shot and toughest member, somehow held interest for the male sex, there was absolutely no way in hell he'd choose Charles.

It was enough for him that he could be considered a friend to Arthur. He was satisfied.

His solution to escape from his anger led him to wallowing in self-pitiful sorrow. Far worse than anger.

When the whiskey reduced to drops, he requested a second glass. Feeling his temper cooling, he sighed. Maybe time for that fuck.

A rough voice came, one he'd recognise anywhere: "I knew I'd find you here!" A slap on the back.

"Arthur." He near smiled.

The cowboy took a seat beside him and requested a beer. Charles took a sip, placing the glass down with a thud, "What are you doing here?"

His drink was served and Arthur took a sip. A smile played on his lips, "Heard a friend of mine were here. Unfortunately, it was you."

Though he knew Arthur joked often, he couldn't help the thought that lingered telling him it wasn't a joke. "Come on. Really."

"Well," Another sip, "I'd been searchin' for you."

"Hm?" He felt his cheeks heat up.

"Yeah, after I'd looted them bastards' camp, I rode back home. Thought you'd be there but all I'd seen were a very mad Micah." Arthur grinned, knowing damn well who caused Micah's well-deserved fury, "Second place I'd thought you'd be was here. Drownin' your anger in whiskey."

"You know me well." Charles smiled, taking a sip of whiskey.

"'Course i do."

Arthur accompanied him throughout the evening, 'til the sun had set and the customers increased. He provided a very welcome distraction for Charles from his foul mind and Charles was grateful.

The words they spoke became slurred and he couldn't help but notice how Arthur's lips turned more pink and how visible the flush on his cheeks were. They were both drunk. He knew that.

He hadn't drunken enough to puke his guts out or haze his vision 'til all he saw were distorting waves. But he was drunk enough for his lust to take over. Something that always happened when he drank and it certainly didn't help that right beside him was the man he oh so desperately craved for. They sat close. Too close. Charles could smell the wooden scent of his soap as well as the smell of cigarette smoke that lingered within his clothes. The whiff of whiskey on his breath, as he'd purchased a bottle for both him and Charles.

It didn't help the erection growing in his pants that their knees kept touching. And it certainly didn't help that Arthur was one touchy fella. Every few minutes a hand was placed on his thigh, shoulder or knee. It lingered a few seconds longer than natural that Charles nearly would've thought it was intentional if he didn't know any better.

When intoxicated he spoke his mind. It took a mighty amount of effort with the little composure he had left to prevent himself from yelling out his desire to fuck his closest friend. Instead he said, "I need a fuck."

Arthur stopped, "Don't wanna drink no more?"

"Mm.. not really."

"Really. Not enjoying my company?" He teased. God, of course he was.

"I always enjoy your company, Arthur," He said, slurring slightly. "But unless I can fuck you, I don't think I can sit here much longer. I'm still mad about this afternoon. Can't be sittin' here anymore- shit- I'd probably fuck you if I did." Fuck. Why would he say that. Why did he say that. Fuck fuck fuck.

The words Charles had uttered sent a spark down the pit of Arthur's stomach. Surely he didn't mean it like that. He was drunk. But then- so was Arthur. So he swallowed, "I wouldn't mind." The words come out before Arthur can stop them.

That had to be the alcohol talking, right? There would be no way in hell, that Arthur Morgan would ever say such a thing. Even if Charles was lucky enough to be blessed with the chance of even touching Arthur's bare torso- he wouldn't even dare to in fear of causing Arthur even the slightest bit of discomfort.

But.. Then again, he may never get such an opportunity again. Was Arthur bluffing? Or was it the whiskey. God, he couldn't think straight.

Finally he spoke, "What.." A pause, "What do you mean?"

He didn't dare look at Arthur.

Despite the bustle and laughter of the drunkards behind them and the sound of drinks being poured into glasses continuously, all that surrounded them was the awkward noise of silence. He looked at Arthur, surprised to find a prominent flush painted upon his cheeks, intentionally avoiding Charles's gaze, "I-" He cleared his throat, "A..As long as it'll help you."

Silence.

"Help me?"

A nod.

"You know what that means, Arthur?"

He swallowed. Another nod.

They sat in silence for a bit before Charles spoke, "Okay."

"..." Arthur chugged down his whiskey, "Okay."

Suddenly they were upstairs. In a room they'd rented, with Charles's large frame pressed up against Arthur's, pinning him against the door. With their mouths pressed together, moving messily in terrible synergy. Wet and sloppy as saliva ran down their chins. Their hands running across eachothers' bodice in desperation, eager for the most meager amount of contact. Charles's hands running down Arthur's sides and Arthur intertwining his own hands into Charles's hair, tangling the once straight strands and tugging at the scalp.

Immediately after renting a room they'd headed upstair, uncaring of the eyes that may have followed them nor the whispers that could've trailed behind. Once in said room, the door slammed and Arthur was shoved up against the door, Charles's lips crashing into his with drunken desire. Catching Arthur by surprise, taken aback by his aggressive passion. He didn't know what to do except melt into the sensation and oh. Oh, how good it felt. The way Charles kissed him was- he'd never been kissed like that before. Charles kissed him with hunger. With need. As if he were a man who'd starved for so very long and it was only Arthur who could satiate that hunger.

Charles placed a knee in between Arthur's thigh causing the man to break the kiss, eliciting a moan from him, "F-Fuc...k," He whispered. God, the sound was heaven. He couldn't believe this moment was real. That Arthur Morgan himself was so near. Pressed up against him in such a vulnerable position. He connected their lips once more, pushing his tongue into the man's open mouth causing Arthur to groan into the kiss. God, he was perfect.

Charles broke the kiss and stared at Arthur. His lips reddened and lustrous, slightly parted as Arthur panted heavily. Beautiful.

Leaning in once more, Charles pressed his lips upon his jaw. Trailing his jawline with kisses a small nips, down to his neck and collarbone. Arthur whimpered from receiving Charles's not so gentle bites and sucks. He wanted more.

"Arthur.." He hummed, leaving marks upon his collarbone.

"Y-yeah?"

"You're doing this to help me.. right?" He sucked another mark onto his terribly sunkissed skin.

He swallowed, "Y..es.

"Good.." He whispered, his voice low and sweet, dripping of luscious, sweetened syrup, it made Arthur feel something he hadn't felt before and he absolutely loved it. "Get on your knees."

"What?"

Charles caught a hint of doubt hidden among his words. He kissed his jaw, "You sure about this.. right?" He whispered, "You can still back out.." It was the last sober part of himself that spoke. He knew once they'd gone farther he would've been far too intoxicated by Arthur to stop.

"Yes." Arthur whispered, low and breathy.

"Good.. On your knees, Arthur." Arthur did as told.

He ran a hand through Arthur's hair in admiration, taking in every bit of the man. His eyes peering up to stare at Charles, his cheeks so very flushed and his lips. God. His lips. "Good boy.." He spoke. The praise sent a terribly satisfying warmth down the pit of Arthur's stomach.

Charles could feel his erection hardening at the sight of the man. Arthur watched as the man undid his belt, unbuttoning his pants, his eyes widening when they caught sight of the beast of Charles's cock. The length was slightly over average, nothing special but fuck, the girth. He near pitied the women who'd slept with Charles. He confused pity for envy.

He flushed. Beginning to understand what Charles wanted. "Charles.."

"Yes, Arthur?" Charles traced his jaw, tilting his head further upwards.

"I.. I ain't ever done this before.."

A force tugged upon Charles's lips. He smiled, "Don't worry, I'll guide you.."

A nod from Arthur.

"Use your mouth, love. Hands too. Just lick it, suck it.. yeah.. like that." Love. He'd never called him that before.

Arthur placed a hand at the base of the cock. Fuck, it was huge. He could barely wrap his hand around it. He swirled his tongue around the tip, flicking at it once in a while, simultaneously pumping at the base. He mouthed the sides of the prick before enclosing his lips around the head of his cock. A groan escaped Charles's lips, encouraging Arthur to continue. He tried hard to remember how women he'd been with in his past did it to him but it was so long ago he'd forgotten.

Pushing his head down further he felt the tip of the cock hit the back of his throat, he fought hard not to gag, pushing the cock down his throat 'till his nose was buried in the man's pubes.

"God, you're so beautiful.." Charles whispered. Arthur felt his own erection growing as he pulled his head back and forth, gagging on his cock each time. It felt so good. He never would've thought he could get off on choking on another man's cock but Charles made it feel so good. The hand tangled in his hair began to grip harder, taking control of Arthur's motions as it forced Arthur's head up and and down. The cock hitting the back of his throat repeatedly made him gag. Arthur choked. Tried to pull back but Charles wouldn't let him, thrusting into his mouth as if he was nothing but a hole to relieve himself in.

Fuck, the thought made him harder.

His eyes rolled back as he choked on the cock, allowing Charles to take complete control as he relished in the his groans. "Fuck, fuck.. fuck, You're so good Arthur, so good for me. I'm gonna cum Arthur. Stay put for me, sweet thing.." Charles pushed his head down hard on his cock, not releasing the vigorous grip he had on Arthur. The man moaned, sending vibrations across his cock as he felt the hot, sticky liquid spill down his throat. Finally Charles let go, Arthur pulling back, panting hard as Charles's spend dripped down his chin. His lips reddened from the friction and his tongue stuck out with drool hanging off of it. His eyes glassy and face flushed. The sight was obscene. It nearly made Charles hard again.

"Arthur.." Charles sighed, his heart near implosion from the bliss of this moment. He pulled him up, pressing their lips together as they moved messily in poor attempts of synchronised rhythm. Through sloppily sensuous movements, Arthur panting in-between each slow motion. They stumbled towards the bed, Charles pushing Arthur not so gently down on the thin, old mattress. Finally he pulled away. Arthur panted, "D.. Did I do well?" His voice rasped.

God.. How adorable, "Yes, Arthur," He smiled, pressing a kiss upon his nose, "You were so good Arthur.. So good for me.."

The words unleashed a whine from Arthur, his cock pressing so hard against the fabric of his pants he feared the cloth would tear. Suddenly a palm rubbed at his groin. The moan Arthur let out was more than shameful. He covered his mouth with both hands, embarrassed of the volume of the sound.

"Don't cover your mouth," Charles whispered, palming harder between his thighs, "C'mon.. you made me feel so good, Arthur.. Tell me what I can do for you."

Arthur flushed, he didn't expect to receive any pleasure from this- though, in truth being this intimate with Charles was already far more pleasuring than anything he could ever have in his sad life. But he'd expected to help Charles release stress, doing anything Charles wanted, and once done he'd shamefully jerk off in silence with the thought of Charles's body above his (however far they'd go,) to help him relieve himself.

"I-It's fine Charles. I'm helpin' you get off, you don't gotta worry 'bout me."

"Yeah, but what if getting you off is what gets me off?" He spoke, pressing kisses across his clothed thighs.

"Then.. go ahead."

"Take off your clothes, sweetheart." Fuck, these pet names were getting out of hand. Arthur was enjoying them far too much.

He did as Charles said. With the cold air hitting his freckled skin, he couldn't help but feel so ashamed. Of his body and how turned off Charles might be. He felt too exposed. Charles just stared at him, his eyes never leaving, his gaze never faltering. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Did he just fuck it up? Was Charles so disgusted by his body he couldn't even utter a measly syllable out of his soft, soft lips? Fuck. Of course. He's such an ugly fuckin' bastard, no wonder-

"You're beautiful, Arthur."

"Huh?" He must've misheard him.

"God, Arthur.." He spoke as if breathless, "You're so perfect." He kissed him. Slow and steady, as if trying to take in all of Arthur. As if this moment was going to end if he didnt do so. God, he hoped it'd never end. "You're so beautiful." He whispered, leaving a trail of kisses down to his throbbing, weeping cock as he whispered bits of praise and words of affections. Arthur nearly believed it.

"Have you ever done before, Arthur?" He spoke lowly against his unclothed thighs, sending scalding reverberations across his lightly haired skin.

"Not.. Not with a man, no." He slurred, the effects of the whiskey still weighing heavily upon him, stirring his mind into a hazed blur as it rushed all the blood from there to his cock.

"You do this frequently, then? With women?"

"No, not- not in a long while now."

Arthur gazed blearily at the man whose face had been positioned between his thighs, aware of how vulnerable this position was for himself- as well as how it was so terribly tantalising.

"You," He broke the silence, "You done this before? With men?"

"Yeah. Not too often but it isn't anything too rare."

"I ain't thought you were the kind."

"What kind?"

"Y'know, the-"

"Cocksucking kind?"

Arthur flushed at his bluntness, "Well.. Yeah."

"I don't mind sucking cock. Don't mind fucking anyone with one too. As long as the holes attached to a warm body, I don't mind."

"So I'm just another warm body to you?" Arthur teased, though his heart near cracked open at the thought.

You're so much more than that, Arthur. Charles thought to himself. And his drunk self said exactly that as he pressed more kisses along his jawline, Arthur flushing at the words.

"So- how does this work? Sex with two men."

"One of 'em takes it up the ass."

Arthur's eyes went so wide, Charles feared it'd remain that way.

"And you.." Arthur muttered, "You took it up the ass before?" He asked in hopes of there being a chance he wouldn't have to take Charles's horse cock up his ass.

"Never. The other guys always just happened to want me to do them."

"Oh.." He didn't really like thinking of Charles and other men. Other people.

He opened his mouth to speak before Charles did so, "You don't have to take it up the ass. You already made me feel good, I just want to do the same, Arthur."

In truth he did want to take Arthur in the ass. He wanted to fuck the man so hard he begged for more. He wanted to fuck him into the bed. Hard enough that the rusted springs of the lumpy mattress no longer worked. He wanted the man to forget his own name and for the only thing left, engraved in his mind would be how good Charles made him feel. Oh, how he wanted to ruin the man.

The last sober part of himself had fought every other terribly, drunkenly lusted part of his body saying those few words. Though in truth he did want to pleasure Arthur. It was just that he wanted to fuck him while doing so.

"Will it hurt?" Arthur's raspy voice came.

"What?"

"If I.. took it.. there. Would it hurt?"

"Not if I do it right."

"Okay."

"Okay..?"

"Lord, Charles- Are y'gon'make me say it?"

A smile drew upon his lips, "I wasn't. But now I am."

"You're a bastard, Mr. Smith."

"Bold choice of words for the man who holds your precious orgasm in the palm of his hand."

"You make it sound like a threat. I don't need you to get me off." He spat.

"Really.." Charles leaned closer, his lips brushing the shell of Arthur's ear, "You really think I can't just tie you up? Leave you here, splayed out on the bed for whoever comes next. Your lassos right on the ground, at my disposal." The words sent all the blood to his cock, it cried for release as it leaked precum upon Arthur's belly. Charles reached a hand down, rubbing a calloused thumb over the head of the cock, "You like that, Arthur? If I tied you up with your own lasso. While your cock's begging to be touched. Weeping for release. You like that? If I left you here for someone else to find. Someone else to fuck." Charles was bluffing, anyone else who tried to fuck Arthur- let alone touch him wouldn't still be alive to try anything.

"Christ, Charles." He breathed. Each word had sent a shiver that travelled down to his cock, "I want you to fuck me."

"Really. Where are your manners?"

"Please." He gritted out, "Please fuck me, Charles."

"So sweet, aren't you, Arthur?"

Arthur merely rolled his eyes in response.

Charles travelled downwards. Trailing kisses down his neck. Down his torso and up to his ass. Purposefully avoiding the man's terribly hardened cock as he whined for friction. He pressed kisses around the man's puckered hole, earning sweet, sweet moans that'd leaked out of the man's sweet, sweet lips.

Suddenly, his tongue begun to stretch the man's tight ring of muscle, earning a sharp gasp from Arthur. He was invading uncharted territory, savouring the sounds Arthur made and how beautifully his body reacted each time his tongue moved around within him.

Finally he'd pulled away, earning a loud whine from the man writhing beneath him. Grabbing the back of his knees, spreading them further open, he spat on his hole, making a mess as he coated the spit around the hole with his fingers. A finger doused in spit pressed up against his hole, "I'm putting a finger in, Arthur."

Arthur nodded before feeling something stretch him out. The burning sensation was not enough for the man to tell him to stop. It didn't hurt, but it sure as hell hadn't felt good. Why any man would willingly want this was completely unfathomable. But then- if the man was doing it with Charles Smith, he wouldn't mind.

"Does it hurt?" He whispered, pushing the digit in and out of the hole in slow, unhurried motions, taking care not to hurt the man.

Arthur hated being treated so- kindly. So properly taken care of, as if he were something fragile- something worthy of care. It made him feel so pathetic. "No. Put another finger in."

Charles merely hummed in response, slipping out the digit before swiftly pushing two fingers deep within him. Thrusting inwards and out, he kept wondering whether the men who enjoyed taking it up the ass were delusional. No way in hell could this have felt good-

Oh. Oh.

This was good.

"A-Ah.. More- there, Charles." He whined, it felt too good for him to be ashamed of the near ludicrous sounds he let out. Curling his thick fingers upwards, Charles massaged the man's sweet spot, splitting both fingers apart, scissoring him from within as he stretched him apart.

Briskly, he pulled out both fingers and pushed them back in, along with an additional digit as he spread them all out, stretching him out so well the uncomfortably pleasurable burn had morphed into a terribly intensified pleasure. He wasn't aware of the sounds he'd made, all he could focus on was how much Charles's perfect fingers stretched him out.

It wasn't enough. He wanted more.

"Fuck me Charles. P-Please, I need you."

"So polite now, Arthur.." He could hear the smile in Charles's tone as he felt him press more kisses around his collarbone.

"Please, Charles.."

"Since you asked so nicely."

He pulled his fingers out, soaked and wet with his own fluids. Swiftly, he pulled off his shirt and spat on his own cock, aligning its length in-between Arthur's flawlessly imperfect ass cheeks. It rubbed against his hole, he couldn't wait anymore- he felt so empty. So- So-

Full.

Fuck..

Charles had pushed all the way in, from the head to base, he took it all in. He forgot the girth of the man's cock, how thick and heavy it'd laid on his tongue earlier. Fuck. It stretched him out. His cock rubbed at the walls of his ass, just grazing upon his prostate. "Fuck, you're tight.." Charles groaned, placing a hand under his knee, rubbing circles upon the skin with the pad of his thumb in attempts of comfort, "Relax, love.. Just tell me to stop and I will." Arthur nodded.

Despite feeling Arthur relax around his cock, the warmth enveloping him still felt as if it was clenching around him. Threatening him to stay, restraining him from pulling out.

"I'm going to move now, Arthur." Another nod.

Slowly, he pulled out and slowly, he pushed in. Repeating these motions 'till he felt the man completely relax around him. He picked up the pace, thrusting in faster. Harder. Arthur began to whine loudly. Too loud.

Charles moved his legs which had previously wrapped loosely around his hips, upwards. His shoulders just beneath Arthur's knees. The position allowed Charles to hit deeper within him. Every brutal thrust inwards inflicted such terrible abuse upon Arthur's bruised prostate. Arthur loved every bit of it.

Pushing Arthur's knees against his chest, near folding him half, he whispered to the man, "Quiet down, Arthur. We can't have people hearing your sweet noises, now can we?"

Arthur merely babbled incoherent syllables before clamping his hands over his mouth. Adorable.

He hadn't assumed Arthur to take him so literally.

"You're so beautiful, Arthur.." He repeated for likely the millionth time during their encounter. Taking in Arthur's beautifully flushed and freckled face along with his beautifully glassy eyes as tears spilled out of them. He pressed kisses along those tears, tasting the salt on his lips, "So, so beautiful.." He whispered, burying his face in the crook of the man's neck, sucking and biting at his neck, leaving bruises and marks, that he was sure wouldn't leave for at least a week.

Arthur unclasped his hands from his mouth, "Ch-Charles, I-I'm- I'm gonna-"

"Go ahead, sweetheart.." He mumbled into his skin.

Arthur's moans grew louder and far more risqué as he wrapped his arms around the back of Charles's neck. "A-Ah! More, more, Charles! Pl..ease- There! Right there!"

As his pleas grew needier, his whines grew more lubricious. His intensifying grip around his neck reminding Charles of his strength. Despite how strong the man was, he submitted so willingly to Charles. Oh, how he loves the man.

Nearing his release, he let out louder cries that practically flooded the enclosed space, he didn't bother to silence Arthur, now uncaring of the possibility of them both being hanged if someone were to discover the intimacy of the position the were in. Instead, he revelled in the sweet symphony of his whines, his cries and his moans. He relished in the scent of sweat coating Arthur's olive skin and the sweet scent of sex as he fucked faster and harder into Arthur.

Hot, white cum spurted in-between their bodies. Onto Arthur's abdomen and Charles's toned belly. Dazing through Arthur's post-orgasm haze, he didn't feel Charles stop. Instead he fucked him harder. Faster. Arthur felt like he was going to burst from such overstimulation, "C-Charles, a-ahh, stop! Stop, stop, stop please- it's, it's too much!" But he didn't stop. Instead, a hand wrapped around his worn out cock, pumping it hard as his erection reformed.

"You can take it, Arthur.. You promised to make me feel good, didn't you?" He continued fucking him, rubbing hard on the terribly sensitive crown of his cock.

"Yes- Yes, Charles.." He moaned, "A-Ahh- I can't cum no more, Charles! Please-"

"You can, love.. C'mon.."

Arthur merely whined in response, squirming powerlessly beneath him. It was all too much. Everything felt like too much. Arthur soon felt his orgasm bubbling up as Charles fisted his once-again hardened cock. Feeling Charles pounding harshly within him whilst pumping his cock was too much- He was gonna- gonna-

"I-I'm gonna cum, Arthur.." He heard the low pitch of Charles's voice.

"M-Me too." He forced out, lacking the mundane ability to string together proper sentences due to having his brains fucked out by the man above him.

He let out the loudest moan known to man. It near shook the entire saloon but he was far too fucked out to be embarrassed of the noise. The man was utterly debauched.

The warmth of Charles nearly depleted as he felt the man about to pull out before he wrapped his legs tighter around him, "Cum- inside.."

The sight of Arthur was enough to make Charles heed his plea without a thought. He hummed, fucking him harder as he chased his release.

Finally- through his own orgasm, he felt a warm, viscous liquid released inside him. It felt so good. His load felt never ending, it continued to spurt out all over his ass after Charles pulled out. Such a position should've made him feel degraded, pathetic, instead- he felt completely raptured. The feeling of Charles's semen all over him nearly made him hard again.

Staring at his own thick cum spilling out of Arthur's so very reddened and swollened asshole, the white droplets sliding the bruised skin of both his inner and outer thighs that pressed so tightly together. He couldn't help but admire the work he'd done.

His eyes trailed upwards from Arthur's terribly abused hole to his wonderfully rubescent face; taking in how his eyes brimmed with saltwater as they so gracefully fell down his rosy, freckled cheeks. As if he'd lost himself in the mere sight on Arthur. In his red, swollened lips; glistening and nitid, wet from their shared , sloppy kisses. They parted slightly, taking in shallow breaths, panting from the sex mere moments before.

"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" Arthur spoke, his voice raspy, never-changing.

"Like what?" Charles responded breathlessly.

"Like you wanna goddam' eat me." A chuckle from Charles.

"Maybe I do." He pushed apart Arthur's bruised thighs and leaned into him, pressing more kisses at his already purpling jaw. "Charles Smith." He whispered, his tone meaning to be teasing but coming out broken and breathy.

"Arthur Morgan." He said in response at the shell of the man's ear.

Charles rolled off of Arthur, laying at his side. "I can't believe that just happened." Charles sighed ever-so blissfully, as if all his troubles had just been washed away and the sex they just had had granted him the secrets of eternal life.

"Y'mean- the fuckin'? Or the fact that it was with a man."

"The fact that it was with you."

"Oh." Arthur's eyes began to avoid his gaze, his cheeks beginning to redden as he muttered several minor words, "I can't believe it too well either."

"Y'know.." Charles turned to him, a hand reaching out to trace his cheekbone with his knuckles, "I've been wantin' this for so long now."

"You're kiddin'"

"Not at all." He swallowed, the alcohol that continued to coarse through his veins gave him courage to utter these pathetically buried feelings. Feelings he'd never admit to if well and sober. It was now or never. "I.. I've been interested in you for a while now."

"Since Colter?"

"Since Blackwater."

"You- Charles.." He stammered, unable to find the words to say, Charles merely chuckled at his bashfulness.

"It's alright Arthur. I knew those feelings would go nowhere," He'd uttered, Arthur missed the hint of sadness within his words, "The moment I heard you speak- your quick wit as well as your sarcastic quips, they immediately charmed me. You were just so oddly charismatic, and your beauty- Arthur. Your beauty. You were breathtaking. You are breathtaking."

Arthur couldn't utter a single word, his face merely continued to overheat as his mouth stood agape. "In Colter, when Mr. Pearson asked you to go hunting with me- My heart absolutely flipped. I jumped at the chance."

"Yeah, it was weird that you wanted to help me out. Y'know 'cause o' your hand an' whatnot."

"You wanna know how I injured my hand, Arthur?"

"Been wonderin' for a while now."

"In Blackwater, durin' the heist- when you came to the boat, I saw a fella'. Probably a Pinkerton, wasn't sure. But he aimed his gun at you, I didn't think- I just put my hand at the barrel then knocked 'im out after."

A pause. His eyes traced the apple at Arthur's throat, watching how it bobbed as he swallowed. Watching how he took Charles's hand off his face and held it so very gently. Arthur Morgan. The Van der Linde gang's toughest, most intimidating member. The man he'd just fucked. That same man held him so, so softly. Tracing the grooves and bumps of his dark knuckles as well as the veins behind his terribly calloused hand. Then he spoke, looking up to reach his eyes, "Shoulda let me get shot."

Charles merely smiled, "I know. I'm a fool."

They laid beside each other, bathing it the afterglow of their previous activities. The only thing on both of their minds being the unknown mutual hope that it wouldn't be the last time they were so intimate. So Arthur broke the silence. "You tired, Charles?"

"Not.. in particular."

"Think you can go another round?"

An imperceptible smile, quirked upon Charles's lips, "I could go for several more rounds."

With those words, Arthur got up and straddled the man all in one swift motion. He leaned downwards, pressing their lips together for the millionth time.

His hands reached down to Charles's pants, "You gotta get these off though."

"No rush. We have all night.

The thought of Charles's fucking him into the mattress all the way 'till morning made his dick twitch. He kissed Charles once more, whispering through the kiss, "I wanna have our whole life."

He took a breath. "Let's have that then."

When the sun rose, casting it's amber hues across the rented lodging of their room and bathing the town with its slight warmth, Arthur's eyes fluttered open, wandering blearily around the foreign room before landing on the sleeping face of Charles.

Charles.

Charles?

He stared at the man beside him, the strong, sculpted arms wrapped around him. He couldn't move if he tried. The memories of the night before blurred through his mind, a flush crawling up his neck. Untrusting of his own intoxicated mind, he looked beneath the thin, cream blanket that barely covered them as it was clearly meant for merely a single person. As if their naked bodies pressed together and the near dried cum spilling out of his ass wasn't enough proof, the sight of Charles's bare cock underneath the blanket surely was.

Attempting to shuffle within Charles's death gripping bear hug, still processing the knowledge of getting fucked by the man the night before. Multiple times. The memory of Charles's cum in his mouth still lingered. The taste of salt and texture of slime that would've made him puke if it was anyone else but last night- was absolutely intoxicating.

With curious eyes he looked at Charles, taking in every curve and crevice on his face. Seeing things he'd never seen before. Every pore was visible, as was every spot of hair that trailed from his chin to his jaw. The memory of Charles's words to him as he laid beside him upon the white, dirtied mattress sheets made Arthur's heart absolutely dance. In truth, he'd felt the same. Ever since speaking to him at Colter, all that lingered within his mind was the faint thought of Charles. If the night before hadn't happened he'd never admit the fact he felt this way about another man. He didn't even know how he felt.

Suddenly Charles's eyes opened, blinking a few times as he looked at Arthur with half-lidded eyes. A lopsided smile bloomed upon his face, "G'morning, Arthur." He leaned nearer, pressing a kiss on his lips. The action made his heart thud so hard upon his ribcage he feared it'd explode. "Mornin'.." He forced out.

He didn't know how to act, considering the fact that they'd fucked continuously throughout dusk, passing out just before dawn. He hadn't had sex in years. Not since Eliza's death.

Charles merely continued to run a hand through Arthur's sandy, uncut locks, long overdue for a haircut. "I still can't believe last night." He heard Charles murmur.

"Neither can I."

A smile from Charles. "Thank you, Arthur." He looked at Charles, into his eyes, noticing the slightest bit a sorrow within them. As if unwillingly acceptant of the fact that last night was and inevitably would be nothing more than a one night stand. Charles parted his lips, as if wanting to say more. But the words never left those soft lips.

"What for?"

"Last night. Helping me blow off steam."

Oh.

Was that all it was to Charles? Were all the sweet nothings said the night before just a result of too much whiskey?

"Arthur?" Charles's voice, "You alright?"

Before he could stop it, the words ran out of his mouth, "I don't want last night to be the last."

"What?"

"I-" Fuck. He'd already said all that. Might as well. "I wanna do it again. With you. "

"Right now?"

"No- Charles. I mean-" He was never one for words. He wasn't even that good at English himself. "Arthur."

He looked up. Charles smiled.

He spoke.

"I'd like that."

"Yeah?" Arthur had never been the emotional kind but fuck. The knowledge that it wouldn't be the end made him near tear up. Or maybe getting fucked in the ass had shredded up his masculinity.

Nah.

"Yeah." Charles couldn't stop smiling. Fuck, the man was handsome.

"But- ignoring what I just said, you ain't too tired for another fuck, are you?"

Charles only laughed, crawling on top of Arthur and smashing their lips together through the laughter that bubbled throughout.

#rdr2 #rdr #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr fanfiction #charthur #charles smith #arthur morgan #just cowboys fuckin #charles smith x arthur morgan #arthur morgan x charles smith

46 notes · View notes

lakemojave · 5 months

Text

The Direct Actors: A Baldur's Gate 3 "Adventure" pt. 9 live tonight at 6pm Pacific!

twitch_live

THE STORY SO FAR: On the way to a union rally, Delilah "Mama D" Harper and her grandson Micah were abducted and taken aboard an ilithid nautiloid, which they escaped with mysterious dancer Leviathan and self-proclaimed "Champion of Ilmater and Paladin of Good" Dhudlei Durite. The Direct Actors, as the party have come to be known, have had a lengthy adventure in the Underdark, rooting out the Cult of the Absolute, and now turn their eyes to the mountains...

LAST TIME: Using a scroll he had found in the necromancer's lair in the blighted village, Dhudlei summoned a quasit, which he promptly named New Gale. Everyone in the party, especially Leviathan, immediately fell in love with the little imp. Along with their new friend, the Direct Actors took a boat to the Sharran outpost known as the Grymforge, where Mama D quickly set to work organizing a worker's revolt. The party found themselves caught in a time loop thanks to New Gale's hidden powers, but eventually managed to rescue a group of deep gnome slaves from a cave-in, and kill the cultists led by the drow Nere, whose death had been requested by the Myconid Sovereign Spaw. After defeating a horde of mimics while looking for a stash left by the Harpers, Leviathan confronted Mama D, accusing her of stealing the scroll of Bhaal which, in truth, the "other" Leviathan had given to Dhudlei. The two would have come to blows were it not for the return of Micah and Dhudlei from their walk. The Direct Actors then went exploring in the ancient Adamantine Forge, where Leviathan pummeled a giant robot. Dhudlei used the forge to fabricate a new set of armor for Micah, whom he then formally christened as a Cleric of Ilmater. In turn, Micah forged a new sword for Dhudlei. Tragically, in a battle with some mephits, New Gale was accidentally killed when Leviathan attempted to throw him to saftety. May his memory be a blessing. At camp, Micah finally confessed his feelings to his large elven companion. Dhudlei, while admitting he was flattered, turned Micah down for the time being, saying that he needed to think things through before giving Micah an answer. As the Direct Actors readied for bed, disaster struck when Leviathan took a fall into the depths of the Grymforge, but with Withers insisting that he remains alive somewhere, the party will be forced to look for him as their journey continues...

Where will the Direct Actors' travels take them next? Will Leviathan's dual nature continue causing problems? Will Micah and Dhudlei finally make out licky-style? Where'd Volo end up? Will New Gale live again? Find out in another exciting installment of Baldur's Gate 3, starring The Direct Actors!

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #the direct actors #twitch #stream #stream announcement #shameless plugging

21 notes · View notes

solarisgod · 29 days

Text

This is Astereus Starwake's permanent general callset and interaction guide for writing and plotting conveniences. Under read holds details of plot and dynamic potentials and wishlist to help create some ideas with how you want your muse to interact and connect with the system. Our interest checker is located here if you'd like to provide us details for us to keep in mind for our interactions and the Starwake System's important portrayal record for our writing partners to note of is here.

Reply the presenting hearts below to specify the type(s) of interaction that you'd like from us, otherwise liking this post won't be enough and we will ask what you want. You are welcome to send any repeated hearts whenever this post crosses your dash. Micah is the default muse unless asked otherwise. Multis, please specify your muses.

Reply ❤️ for us to write you an unplotted starter.

Reply 🧡 for us to write you a plotted starter and we'll reach out to plot it through.

Reply 💛 for us to reply to your open starters.

Reply 💚 for us to send you 2 - 3 inbox prompts.

Reply 💙 for us to reach out to you to develop plotlines with Astereus.

Reply 💜 for us to reach out to you to develop dynamics with Astereus.

STORYLINE STATUS ( updated as of 04/14/24 ) :

As of April 1, 2024, in the beginning of Antineon Hieraeon Saga 1 Season 5, Astereus is currently imprisoned, so currently, all new interactions and dynamics will be established prior to S1S5. This is when Astereus is investigating on the entities that are people's shadows and reflections that grew sentient and killed their respective sources, controlled by a Godteller ( a being from race of amorphous forces that are part of the Narrative ) known as the Breaker. Meanwhile, the Infernal Infinity have been attempting to kill xem, with an assassin named Antiafter paid to end xyr life for good. Astereus also handles exorcising Metaeide ( a malicious spiritual race created by the Godtellers that manifests after individuals' personal fear and traumas, but can only be seen by Antigods like Astereus ).

───── Note Astereus' verse will be our writing partner's main use of their muse's, but its storyline will still correspond to xyr series’ current canon arc in some degree. Here is the list of Astereus' currently written verses.

Storyline based plot ideas that your muse can partake in :

Your muse was asked by the Infernal Infinity to capture Astereus, dead or alive, for however price your muse wants them to exchange.

Your muse's shadow and / or reflection grows sentient and attempts to kill them before Astereus comes by to stop their attackers.

Your muse discovers, either by learning it themself or from Astereus, that Astereus is on investigation involving the shadows and reflections while searching for the Breaker. Micah insists they can't join the investigation for their safety but your muse still wants to help.

The Infernal Infinity knows your muse is linked to Astereus and attempts to harm / capture them to lure or hurt Astereus.

General plot ideas that your muse can partake in :

Astereus receives a prophecy about your muse or a vision / dream of their future.

A Metaeidos or group of Metaeide haunts your muse while appearing as their personal fears and / or traumas before Astereus comes into the image and attempts to exorcise your muse's manifested Metaeidos.

Astereus is asked to investigate / capture / confront other type of entities that are or were harming your muse.

Astereus walks into your muse's dream by accident or on purpose either as a first meeting and interact in the dream world for a while before meeting in person or as an occasion if acquainted.

Your muse discovers Astereus is an Antigod either through themself learning about it or hearing Astereus share by force, which can put your muse in danger since Antigods is a covert race that can't be known to any races.

Your muse is stumbles upon Micah who they're familiar with through the Everlove's and / or their creativity works such as xyr media roles and published literatures and connects with them over arts.

THE STARWAKE SYSTEM The Starwake System ( Astereus Starwake as the older Starwakers' collective name ) is a group of alters inhabiting a singular body, in which Micah usually controls it and manages day-to-day life as the system's main host. There are five main Starwakers who are open to interactions : Micah ( Mike in verses where xe's a teen ), Phoebus, Philos, Phobos, and Cryael. Micah is the easiest Starwaker to interact with and establish connections due to xyr adaptability and opening nature with various kind of beings, hence xe's the default muse in terms of plotting and writing, but if you wish for your muse to also interact with the other Starwakers in any case, please let us know.

CRUCIAL NOTE : Phoebus is known to be distrusting and reserved, as Phobos is harsh and aggressive, and Philos tends to lie and be fleeting with relationships due to how the system was raised and treated that influenced each Starwaker’s traits, mindsets, and goals of caring and protecting the system. They will improve over time, but they will generally act more capricious and / or closed off to new individuals at first. We will not tone these traits down for convenience sake.

RELATIONSHIP GUIDE

Platonic relationships : Micah is always seeking friendships with anyone and everyone, having a highly bright and opening personality. The moment one meets xem, xe's likely already seeing them as a friend. Philos is also content to build and have friendships, though, she's more unreliable in comparison to Micah as she can be distant or fleeting if she feels the other can hurt her and / or the system. If confronted on, however, he can improve. Phoebus and especially Phobos needs time and patience to form trust before friendships can be built. It takes a small period for Phoebus to open up, but Phobos takes more longer, although Phobos generally approves and is likely to want to be with those who share its harsh and rebellious personality. Cryael doesn't seek friendships when it's always focused on professional situations, but non-professional relationships can be made if the other continues to interact with it in more personal / mundane settings.

Romantic relationships : Philos and especially Micah are the ones who will enter romantic relationships often, although Philos will want to date whoever Micah is with if he sees that he can be compatible with who xe's dating. Once again, it requires time and patience for Phoebus and Phobos to partake in romantic relationships, but Phoebus is a lot more cautious with this type of connection, so a lot of time is needed for them to be open to dating. [ Only 21+ writing partners can have their muse engage in this dynamic type with these Starwakers and romantic relationships must be done as a slow burn. ]

Sexual relationships : Only Micah, and especially Philos with Phobos engages in one night stands and friendships with benefits typed relationships with others. Philos is highly flirtatious and she along with Phobos enjoys sexual interactions, so these two will likely partake in this sort of relationship more while they don't mind / care if this connection doesn't develop beyond sexual based. Micah, also a Starwaker who loves sexual interactions, engages in friendships with benefits a lot more than one night stands while xe hopes to have realtionships built out of one night stands. [ Only 21+ writing partners can have their muse engage in this dynamic type with these Starwakers. ]

Antagonistic relationships : Phoebus, Philos and especially Phobos are the ones who commonly create antagonistic relationships. Philos is known to be irritating and mischevious that can annoy other individuals while Phobos is highly disrespectful and hostile, so they are bound to build relationships of conflicts because of their beliefs and personalities. Phoebus also create antagonistic relationships easily if the other's goals doesn't align with the system's or their own, especially if they hurt any of the Starwakers, especially Micah who they are most closest to and protective of. Micah will always attempt to avoid conflicts along with viewing and treating another as a rival or enemy, although xe will likely be more cautious and at unease if your muse is known to be affiliated with the Infernal infinity or they harm / kill people out of pleasure or because they see them lowly. Cryael doesn't care about having enemies on the other hand.

Familial relationships : Only Micah is the only Starwaker who is open to familial relationships, either as the one being taken as a younger familial figure or especially older. Micah enjoys taking care of children and xyr younger siblings while xe hold a special connection with the concept of family because of the Everlove who taught xem the true meaning of family, so xe's very much more happy to adopt anyone who needs and / or wants a familial figure as a parent or older sibling. Xe's also content to be taken as a child or younger sibling as long as the other doesn't underestimate xem.

Professional relationships : Cryael generally appears in professional settings with Micah, so both of them can have professional relationships based on them helping another on investigations or paranormal management. Micah and Cryael are also okay with the concept of mentorship with them teaching the other how to fight, defend, and use different weapons, as well as basic medical aid and herbs, although Micah will likely be the primary mentor due to Cryael's reserved nature.

Wished dynamic ideas :

Micah taking someone as their sibling or child while xe vows to make sure they'd have the happiest and most fulfilling life.

Phoebus having a friendship that can help them be more opening while learning that they don't always have to be the one to be responsible of caring the Starwake System and it's okay for them to have free time for themself and their interests and hobbies.

Phobos having a slow burn friendship with it slowly finding the genuine meanings of friendships and confidence in the thought that it deserves to have positive relationships as well.

Astereus having connections who they can bond over arts, dramas, and literature.

#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ CALLS . ›#𓁹 ༑ ࿐ྂ ⩇⩇ : ⩇⩇ ⚠︎ [ 𝙴𝚇𝙸(𝚂)𝚃 : 𝙶𝙾𝙳 ] * ‹ ARCHIVE . ›#[ HEHEH FINALLY FINISHED!!! I'm sooooo happy with this ]#[ shall add this to xyr pinned post now ; I'm so >:3 !!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ]

11 notes · View notes

sednonamoris · 2 years

Text

ghost story

known by law enforcement, civilians, and outlaws alike as ‘the ghost rider of new austin’, you join up with the van der linde gang in your youth. so begins a long and complicated history.

ch. 1 cloudburst

shot by a bounty hunter and left for dead, you’re saved by an unlikely pair in the dead of night.

ch. 2 gift horse

now healed, you plan out the job that will fulfill your life debt to these van der linde boys. what else would it be but stealing horses?

ch. 3 daddy’s got a gun

a job gone wrong, and a journey home gone worse.

ch. 4 drowning lessons

the hottest day of summer launches your friendship with john off the deep end.

ch. 5 raise a little hell

you, john, and arthur go out on the town after a successful score. of course you couldn’t leave it at just one drink.

ch. 6 american dreams

need, morality, and family are difficult to conceptualize in a life defined by crime, and your vision of the world has been shaped almost entirely by the van der linde gang.

ch. 7 stormchaser

abigail roberts joins the gang. your relationship with john is changed, maybe forever.

ch. 8 dear john

a year’s worth of letters, never sent.

ch. 9 hang ‘em high

a high stakes bank robbery forces you and john to confront exactly how close - and how far - you are from one another anymore.

ch. 10 a dark alley and a bad idea

after an argument with abigail, john goes into town to drink his worries away. as always you follow, and as always there's trouble - seems like you bring it with you wherever you go.

ch. 11 sold down the river

the blackwater massacre, and the aftermath.

ch. 12 teeth

john never returns from his scouting trip. you, arthur, and javier seek him out through the snow.

ch. 13 through the valley and the vale

once dutch gets a train robbery out of his system and the snowmelt starts, the van der linde gang makes its way to horsehsoe overlook.

ch. 14 pony up

john and abigail continue to argue. you and jack are both stuck in the middle, so you make the best of it by teaching him to ride.

ch. 15 act the maggot

sean is rescued, and the gang celebrates his return the only way they know how - drinks all around.

ch. 16 life ain’t fair and the world is mean

arthur’s decision after meeting with mary linton again leaves you caught between a rock and a hard place.

ch. 17 once bitten

john and abigail’s relationship continues to deteriorate as arthur begins a clumsy courtship. you and john run off hunting to get away from it all, but things don’t exactly go to plan.

ch. 18 come all ye sinners

driven from camp in the aftershocks of an earth-shattering shift in john and abigail’s relationship, you find yourself in an unlikely situation with and even more unlikely friend. is there a way forward?

ch. 19 oil on troubled water

tensions are high between john and arthur. will collaborating on a train robbery bring them closer or tear them farther apart?

ch. 20 blood of the covenant

arthur and abigail make a promise. you and john have a chance to find out what that means for you, if you’re brave enough.

ch. 21 good, honest thieves

a fight with micah leads to a lecture from dutch. loyalty is exactly what you've been raised on, but to what? to whom? the answer seems to be john every time.

ch. 22 unbridled

a theft gone right and a deal gone wrong.

ch. 23 thunderstruck

a storm brews over your journey with john to meet an old friend and make a profit on the braithwaite horses. what will happen when lightning strikes?

ch. 24 working for the knife

you and john return to camp, where an unexpected crisis awaits.

ch. 25 arsonist’s lullaby

with sean dead and the confederate gold nowhere to be found, the braithwaites learn exactly why boys are off limits.

ch. 26 water of the womb

[coming soon]

#masterlist #ghost story #john marston x reader #rdr2 x reader #rdr x reader #fran writes

182 notes · View notes

away-ward · 17 days

Note

your #ask and answered 264, wasnt this a bit simolar argument that you had with an anon a while ago about aydin and alex loving to act like victim, always be blaming everyone but themselves, and even when they had the opportunity to fight for things they want, they just left? Like when willemmy was given a second chance at blackchurch, they were alway running towards each other, but aydinalex kept on being two stupid bitches who are embarrassed of their past yet wanted to drag willemmy down with them? I think it's an anon post or a post with anon Z, where they said they reread nightfall and talked about something like emmy made her own path or something? I remember that because it describes willemmy and aydinalex so well.

We can see will always running to emmy in blackchurch (even though he was alone or sometimes made alex tag along) and emmy too kept on running to will because she knew to fight for the only other thing or person she never fought or get to fight enough before because of her life (side note, recycled plot point again, alex was will's equal, but emmy is will's more, just like how the horsemen are michaels equal, but rika is his more. But again, pd's shit at execution), but aydinalex? They were always weak, always being near willemmy like fucking parasites. Even their wedding were decided by someone else. No fucking backbone at all, always waiting for someone else to get what they want. Cant believe theyre still together by 33/36 years old. Among the dn ships, i thought they were the first one to break up. They got no chemistry AT ALL. Aydin in blackchurch blaming will and manipulated emmy, alex putting emmy down and running away from her own problems and always tried to run to will because then she can hide. But by that time emmy appeared in front of will, so no way in hell there will be space for alex to project herself onto her mirror, will. Will would rather die than go back to his past that he was VERY EMBARRASSED ABOUT. That past that enabled him and who were the biggest part of that? Himself, damon and alex. But the text said alex's a viking? Sorry, aydin and alex got low standard fr.

Recycled story device, Sounds like damon when he said will was pure when will himself was no angel. And then was pissed because emmy looked down on them (which emmy was right to do so because even will agreed, alex was embarrassed with her actions, and even damon had to get better). Like i said, low standards. Alex calling emmy coward for not going after will, while she was squatting there in between willemmy like a dumbass, always busy being in everyone elses stories and bed? Like she couldve just gone to aydin, but for some prideful reason she didnt. Alex was a coward, and aydin was weak. They both destroyed themselves, kept on dragging everyone down with them, but love to paint themselves like theyre heroes of some sort in front of their friends. Emmy wasnt like this though, thank fucking god. Like imagine living like micah in a warzone and rory having to fight for justice for his murdered disabled twin sister only to find out their abuser alpha in blackchurch didnt even suffer as much as they did but liked to hurt them? Fuck off! I hate aydin fr.

like imagine being a homewrecker to someone's relationship, but still paint yourself as better? Only Alex palmer can pull off this narcissistic move fr. And rika's brain too is thick for believing her 100% and think she was innocent and pure. Only emmy called alex out, and when confronted with the ugly side of herself (because emmy made her felt like she touched the ground) she was being a bitch again. Fr, everyones fucking delusional here. Alexs delulu level is on par with Winter, Damon and Rika, no wonder they all get along. They all are just the kind that only wanna hear what they wanna hear. The type that cannot be advised yk. The annoying ones. I cant stand alex tbh, because what we get of her doesnt match the description of her, same with damon. In this aspect, damon admitted his faults, alex didnt. Both are delulu af. Anyway, i like your alex discourse but im so sick of looking at her name, nowadays, it made me not wanting to reread this series. Book 1, 2, 3, 3.5 were already a slog to get through, but god, with all this alex palmer bullshit, ughhhh. I'm trying to reread corrupt via audiobook but omg KO, i cannot for the life of me stand michaelrika in corrupt on a reread 🫠 ughhhhhh

I remember talking about it before – I think I may of gotten in some hot water with a few of the readers? But I could be thinking of another time. But I do think Alex and Aydin love the play the victim.

Like when willemmy was given a second chance at blackchurch, they were alway running towards each other,

I was actually just thinking this the other day. Even when other people were around, Will and Emmy were only really interested in engaging with each other. I realized, after Emmy appeared at Blackchurch, Will never touched another girl after that. And Emmy only ever wanted to deal with Will directedly. Of course, she’d go through the others and eventually developed a friendship with Micah and Rory, but most of the time, she was working towards Will and getting them out of there.

side note, recycled plot point again, alex was will's equal, but emmy is will's more, just like how the horsemen are michaels equal, but rika is his more. But again, pd's shit at execution

True. But I think this was supposed to be true for all of the girls. It’s hard to wrap my head around because I know that PD wants to elevate Alex because Rika is always so in awe of her, and Emmy can’t hate her because she’s…unhate-able or something? But she’s also no better than Will, who puts Emmy above himself. So…? I mean, two things can be true at once, but I don’t think that applies here. It’s weird.

They got no chemistry AT ALL.

Right?? I mean, we had to lose precious Willemmy time to a couple I didn’t care about and for all my complaining about that, we still didn’t really get to see what made Alex and Aydin, AlexAydin? They were only in half the book and yet I’m still confused as to why they’re supposed to matter. I didn’t see anything that made me swoon over them? They hardly interacted during a moment when they didn’t hate each other.

Will would rather die than go back to his past that he was VERY EMBARRASSED ABOUT.

This too. By the time Emmy and Alex were at Blackchurch, Will already hated who he had been and feared returning to that once he got back to Thunder Bay.

Himself, damon and alex. But the text said alex's a viking? Sorry, aydin and alex got low standard fr.

Side note: Alex wasn’t a Viking, but she was a siren? I mean, I know Aydin is trying to say she was strong and a warrior or something, but the way PD describes her ability to captivate people is more like a siren’s call.

Alex calling emmy coward for not going after will, while she was squatting there in between willemmy like a dumbass, always busy being in everyone elses stories and bed?

Absolutely. I couldn’t believe what I was reading when she was calling Emmy a coward. I was waiting for the “Pot, meet Kettle” bit because how blind do you have to be? Emmy was right to call them hypocrites.

Emmy had a legit reason to want to avoid Will. Alex just didn’t want to be with a man who didn’t want her sleeping with other men, as if that’s not something most people want in relationships. Now, if she was someone who only wanted an open relationship, and he didn’t, that would be a reason not to pursue him. But that wasn’t the case, clearly.

only to find out their abuser alpha in blackchurch didnt even suffer as much as they did but liked to hurt them?

I never thought about what Micah and Rory would think of Aydin’s reasons for being in Blackchurch. I mean, Aydin didn’t grow up with the best parents, obviously, but his superiority complex would be hard to swallow when you realize it’s all because he wanted to marry a woman his father didn’t approve of.

because what we get of her doesnt match the description of her,

Yesss! Like, the concept of Alex is great. Seeing her on the page is so disappointing. Because she could have been great.

I really don’t think there’s anything else do be said about her. I don’t want to cross the line into hating on her just to hate on her. Like I said above and have said in other places, the concept of her is great. I’d much rather talk about ways she could have been improved, what we would have liked to see, than just complain about the same stuff over and over again.

Regarding your reread, I’ve never re-read the full series straight. I’m usually looking for something specific and end up reading portions or chucks. May I recommend reading in chronological order according to the flashbacks? It’s slightly easy with the timeline flashback, and it’s fun when Nightfall and Hideaway start to overlap. It really gives you insight into the characters as they go through that one night.

I didn’t like the audiobook narrators, so I can’t help you there.

Thank you for your message! I enjoyed reading your thoughts.

Hugs!

#asked and answered 268 #asked and answered #devil's night series stuff

4 notes · View notes