#he’s like if uncle in red dead redemption was cool | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

demonfox38 · 9 months

Text

Completed - Ninja Gaiden

And by completed, I mean, don't expect a stellar performance out of me. Especially, not cold. But, I can beat this in an afternoon now. It's just a clumsy, brutal performance.

I'm sure that it will surprise exactly none of you to know that I enjoy watching speedruns. This has been a habit of mine at least since the early days of YouTube. At my first job, I was so afraid of being caught on YouTube that I would smuggle speedruns on my MP4 player and listen to them while coding. I was particularly fond of Speed Demos Archive, but obviously, I've got a few more sources to watch them on now-a-days. Naturally, this includes both the old standby YouTube and the newer streaming service Twitch.

Now, I don't talk too much about my Twitch viewership. I mean, what's to say? I'm not the one doing cool things there. But, I am a frequent viewer—so much so that I pay more for Twitch subscriptions than cable TV and streaming platforms. (Then again, $15.00 > $0.00, so it's not like I’m breaking the bank here.) If you're gonna find me lurking, it's either in a retro, kuso, or survival horror crowd. Not that I'm gonna be saying much. I've got the damn thing on my TV after all, and that's a bitch to chat on.

The accounts I support fiscally are as follows:

Rifftrax—because I don't want commercials interrupting my comedy aunts/uncles.

Brossentia—The host of a number of competition and showcase events, including "Don't Make Us Bored", GDQ's "Grudge Match", and the "Kusogrande", a tournament that pits people into hour long matches playing weird and/or awful video games. Funny and honest.

Arcus—Often called the "Bob Ross of Speedrunning" because of his relaxed nature, Arcus is best known for his contributions and records with the "Ninja Gaiden" series. He participates in marathons both of his own making and others' design, almost exclusively focused on Nintendo Entertainment System titles.

I first came across Arcus while searching for "Ninja Gaiden" speedruns. And man, is there a culture shock one has when watching him for the first time. The dude's about as western as can be, sporting a moustache and consistently wearing both a cowboy hat and bolo tie. Seeing a man like that being an expert "Ninja Gaiden" speedrunner is like…I dunno. Finding a "Red Dead Redemption 2" speedrunner that is constantly wearing a kimono and smoking a kiseru. Definitely wouldn't expect that. And I really can't talk about my experience with "Ninja Gaiden" without mentioning that I've been watching him play this game for years.

Did I pick anything up from him? Did years of viewership make a notoriously hard game easy for me?

Well, there's definitely a difference between a monkey seeing and a monkey doing.

"Ninja Gaiden" is a 1989 Tecmo platformer known both for its aggravating difficulty and its cool presentation. The game stars Ryu Hayabusa, a young ninja whose father has recently gone missing after a fateful moonlit duel (and hell yeah, you get to see that.) On his father's urging, he goes to the United States to investigate the power of a statue left in his care, as well as to find out just what happened to his father. Along the way, shadowy organizations (both magical and governmental) interfere with his progress, placing him in non-stop mortal peril. It's only through his determination that the dark forces at work around him can finally be put to an end.

And, hey. Dude might have only two lives, but he's got infinite continues. The pair of you can totally do this!

If you ever needed to find what might be considered the average NES title, this might be it. Not in terms of it itself being average. Not in the slightest. There are just several elements to it that were recurring across the most memorable NES games. Challenging platforming, cool cutscenes (actually, among the first to use them, if not the first!), banging music, a distinctly Japanese feel—"Ninja Gaiden" definitely came packed.

I mean, what's more NES than this?

Okay, yes. I know. There's several versions of this title. But, seriously. What do you think the average gamer is going to remember?

And damn, do people remember this game. Definitely, own of my coworkers. When I mentioned that I had been pushing my way through the game, all he could say was "How?!"

Six pages of hand-written notes is how. And at least four YouTube videos. (Arcus has two levels of "Ninja Gaiden" training videos available for beginning and advanced players, for one. If you need a couple extra recommendations, "U Can Beat Video Games" and "Displaced Gamers" have a couple interesting videos on the game, too.)

Of course, the most important thing to do is practice, practice, practice…

Ryu Hayabusa is a bit of a quirky dude to control. He's not that far removed from your average platformer protagonist. He's got a single jump, a sword, and access to an array of subweapons. The difficulties with mastering him come down to his unique quirks. For one, he's got the ability to jump between walls to ascend to a new level. If you slam the A button + the direction you want to go to constantly, you're going to tear up your thumbs. What you actually want to do is hold A down, latch onto a wall, then just rock back and forth with the D pad until you ascend.

Additional control management issues include:

The lack of a backwards jump. Ryu can go back a little bit, but he's pretty much locked to the block just one tile past where you are. There is no escaping here. You either go forward or hold your ground. And really, the game wants you to go forward constantly. Forever. Now.

Inconsistent subweapons. See, most of Ryu's subweapons use the "Castlevania" style of Up + B to use them. That is, except for the Spin Slash (a.k.a. Sword Slash) technique. This thing just requires a single B press to use while the player is airborne. Which, great! It's like giving Samus Aran a katana and letting her Screw Attack someone into submission. But, the problem is that it takes over the button press for your standard aerial attack. It also quickly eats through your Ninpo (the fuel for your subweapons), so you can accidentally use it up before you intended to do so, should you not know about a work around for that issue (see below.)

Spotty sword hit detection. About the closest I can compare this to is Marth's Falchion in a typical "Super Smash Bros." game. There, you'll want to land the tip of your blade to maximize the amount of damage that you do. Here, it's like the same, only it involves the game registering whether or not Ryu's sword hit anything. (Maybe he was just using the back of his sword?)

A short invincibility window post-injury. The game isn't cruel enough to constantly stack damage against you. However, his invulnerability window after getting hit feels shorter than the average game. If you're not paying attention, this can result in you looping Ryu into the same source of damage multiple times before you register what's going wrong.

Having said that, there are a couple of techniques that speedrunners have discovered for mitigating some of Ryu's issues:

Sword cancelling is a way to break out of the standard aerial slash and/or Spin Slash. While you are in air, instead of hitting B to attack, you can hit Down + B to get the same attack motion. By doing this, you can avoid accidentally using your Spin Slash ability (if you have it). Additionally, you can use this to spam more hits than intended against targets. This is particularly critical for handling the final boss.

Quick/Wall Jumps is a technique where you ascend a single wall by using the standard wall bounce move rapidly. This can occasionally help you climb out of a pit to escape otherwise certain death.

Even with his odd control behavior, the challenge of "Ninja Gaiden" doesn't come so much from learning how to handle Ryu himself. Weirdly, I don't even think it's due to the platforming or even a majority of the bosses. Really, most of the difficulty I had was with just your average stage dwellers. Like, okay. Level 1's enemies are pretty benign. Levels 2-4 put their enemies in some tricky spots. It's 5-2 onward that gets malicious. There, it becomes pretty much standard to jump off a platform with your sword extended to hit an enemy that hasn't even rendered yet. Carpet-bombing ninjas with jetpacks were also routine recipients of my middle finger. Boomerang tossers and green ass-tracking ninjas can also be a pain, particularly with how fast they can rack up damage.

I think the enemy that would win the most rewards for being an absolute asshole are the goddamn hawks. Like, fuck. It doesn't take much to learn how to work their A.I. to line up a single killing blow, but does the game love throwing them over pits. Or, in pairs. Or, sometimes rising out of the goddamn ground. And man, do they hurt in Level 6. Like, 3 ticks of damage hurt. Geez, man. You'd think with a surname that means Falcon, the birds would cut Mister Hayabusa a break. Apparently, he's in a bird-on-bird war that he doesn't even know exists.

It really is strange how tame most of the bosses are. If you can bring that Spin Slash into a boss' room, you can have them shaved in seconds. The greatest challenges come from Level 3's boss (where no Spin Slash spawns) and the final two bosses. Even the latter are more due to spamming tufts of fire than the boss itself actually doing much. Damned if the game doesn't punish you for not being good at bullet hells, though. Screwing up on the penultimate or final boss will send you all the way back to 6-1, which…fuck. But, at least they stay dead when you kill them.

Allegedly, that might be a programming error? I wouldn't put it past someone to be that malicious, especially in a North American release. But, hey. This game was released on the NES Classics mini console. That's implicit acceptance of save state use by Nintendo and Tecmo for your home use, right? Just don't expect that excuse to fly in competitions. :P

Oh, speaking of which—there is another good reason to use the NES Classics version of this game. The built-in flash suppression is put to good use for this title. Considering every game over comes with quite the color strobe, you'll definitely want some level of protection for that if you have flash sensitivity. Game's hard enough without potentially triggering a seizure or headache.

I had a bit of an epiphany regarding video game difficulty while working on this particular title over the last couple of weeks. See, prior to "Ninja Gaiden," I had worked my way through "Wild ARMs," a turn-based RPG released on the PlayStation. I've probably spent about the same amount of time on both titles as of writing (28 hours for the former; 30 for the latter.) What I think is important to note is how progression is rewarded between the two genres and how that affects player morale. Like, I'm at the point in my life where beating an RPG is not a matter of if, but when. It's just picking away at battles and building up resources. Meanwhile, I still get apprehensive around platformers. Like, I think I've come a long way with them, but I wouldn't consider that a genre that I am effortlessly good at.

There's a different mindset between the two. With RPGs, it feels like constant positive reinforcement. Win a battle, win a battle, win a boss battle, hooray! With platformers, the cycle feels very negative. Die on a platform, die to a boss, die to a random enemy, die, die, die, okay you passed. It's funny. You can put the same amount of time into both games, clear them, and feel so differently because of it. I mean, duh, right? But, it is kind of silly for one to be considered naturally doable and the other meritorious of a Gamer Boy Scout badge when it's basically the same amount of time and effort. It is just all in your head.

Sorry. I may have suffered some manner of…well, I can't say it was ego death. Some kind of ego mutilation in April. It's resulting in some new perspectives.

In terms of non-gameplay elements, "Ninja Gaiden" remains strong across the board. In fact, they were the reasons children would have subjected themselves to this game willingly back in the 1980s. Its use of cutscenes in particular was quite novel. Sure, the story is a bit of a trope fest, but it is arranged in a compelling way. Mysterious cults, missing fathers, government interference, and a love interest whose idea of a meet cute is shooting you with a tranquilizer. No arguments against that. (Well, I guess Irene could have done more than get abducted after that, but she eventually rips assholes open in "Ninja Gaiden III," so I'll let it slide. Also, is it me, or was she modeled on screenshots of Sean Young's Rachel from "Blade Runner"? )

There are a couple of occasional graphical glitches, but otherwise, the game is visually solid. Well, solid past the flash warning, anyway. The music is quite good as well, with a wide amount of emotional energy and drive. It's something a retro gamer would keep on in the background while working, for sure.

About the only roughness here is with the translation. It's not incomprehensible, but it is about as grammatically consistent as the writing of an average kindergartener. There's a lot of basic mistakes here, including simple things like misused your/you're, capitalization issues, and sentence fragments. (Although, who am I to pick on writing chopped up sentences?) Clearly, it passed some measure of review from Nintendo, as it had some dirty words scrubbed out. Or, at the very least, hid from the kids. Apparently, it was all dictionaries and no grammar books at the localizer's office.

I still find the localization for Jaquio's name strange. Definitely makes more sense for it to be Jaki-Oh in modern parlance for Japanese to English translations. (I suppose there's an unfortunate Jackie Onassis joke to be had in there.) Or, hell, literally Demon King would have been fine. Maybe not so much in terms of text compression and ROM space, though.

You know what this game is? A peacock. Like, you look at all of the elements of a peacock, and you think, "Oh! This is a lovely bird!" And then it pecks at your hands and eyes before flying off. You can get mad at it, sure, but a peacock is a bird. It is destined to act like an asshole. (Please see the previous paragraph about the game's hawks, if you need a refresher.)

If you admire a peacock or wish to have its company, you have to learn how to handle it properly. And, you know what? You're lucky. There's a community of people out there that will help you do that. Same with "Ninja Gaiden."

Really, there's no better time than now to learn this game. The speed runners and video reports are all there for your review. Will they be in the future? With the fragility of Internet services and the egos of their CEOs, who is to say? But, "Ninja Gaiden" is not an unapproachable game. Even if you are alone, armed with nothing more than original hardware and your wits, you can get through this game. Hell, even with all my research, making my own notes helped greatly in remembering what I had to do for each section. If you can make it through 2,500+ words of my writing, you are smart enough to understand this game. It's just about training your own hands to do it right.

Remember—the game gives you infinite continues. I think it might want its players to beat it. It's just a drama queen about it.

#post game evaluation #ninja gaiden

1 note · View note

mohluskiepedard · 4 years

Text

Rating ATLA Characters literally only from what I’ve seen in fandom

or: posts that probably shouldn’t be on my writeblr except I don’t have a sideblog

the context here is it’s half midnight and I have never seen ATLA except I have opinions now apparently so here we go whoop de do-

I’m also not actually rating them like numerically that’s too much work i’m just stating opinions I know I’m a fraud

AANG

- A child? - A son? - he is Baby. but also. he has had It Rough - would make the updog joke - has unspeakable power or smth and everyone says he’s better than the Korra girl who comes after him but honestly tastes like sexism to me - doesn’t kill people because he’s like twelve, right? he’s like twelve so he refuses to kill people - I stan honestly - less twelve year olds should kill people - Some people say his name WRONG and they are BAD but i don’t actually know what the right way or the wrong way is so. have fun w that yall - lived in peace unTIL THE FIRE NATION ATTACKED

KATARA

- She is also like twelve??? - Is everyone here twelve - Cortana?? Katana?? Catbug?? - She has good hair, - Her mother is dead??? her mother is dead n she has a brother but she cares about her mother being dead WAY more than him (or apparently the entire fandom??) - Badass - She seems soft. good. sweet - she’s a water breather or whatever??? her brother is NOT but he is a meme - I love her

SOKKA

- NGL looks like a fuckboy - The meme brother! does not do the water things, but he has an aXe??? - dates BAMF lady - ngl until I talked to my ATLA watching friend I thought he canonically dated Zuko - kinda mad he doesn’t - I haven’t actually seen anything about him except like. in zuko ship posts and also Suki appreciation posts - joined the white lotus not-a-cult by accident??? - dark ATLA tumblr show me more Sokka posts - is his name prounounced the same way as Soccer or isn’t it I need to know - HIS FIRST GIRLFRIEND TURNED INTO THE MOON - (AND THAT’S ROUGH, BUDDY) - He and Suki are a good ship, but also, Sokka Has Two Hands

SUKI

- the BAMF herself - she says STOP in that photo but also to sexism - Rlly all I see of her in fanon is abt her teaching Sokka to drink his respect women juice and I appreciate her doing that but also it’s sad she never gets talked about outside of what she did for a man - I hope she has other badass moments w/o him it would suck if she didn’t - she is NOT the girlfriend who turned into the moon, she is the one who didn’t - I don’t know much else about her ATLA Fandom y’all should appreciate her more

ZUKO

- Look at him... my son... - He has a good redemption arc - he and his sister are evil lesbian and redeemed gay guy??? - has a straight canon ship but should’ve been with Sokka this boy is gay - I Want To Protect Him - That’s literally it - he has a cool uncle and his dad sucks - people ship him with Katara and I Do Not Get It that’s his sister in law except not really - “We don’t trust Zuko’s change of heart” [the next day] “so Zuko is my closest friend now,” - His dad was like “fuck up the avatar to prove your worth to me” and Aang was like “counter argument you already have worth and we should fuck up your dad” and I think that’s beautiful - he becomes the fire man and he’s very good at it - Zuko for President 2020 - in the words of myself, half an hour ago: “ I was like "that kid with the burn on his face seems like a sad but then happy mlm who needs found family" and I was RIGHT” - took too long to find a happy picture of him :( Zuko rights NOW please - His mother’s story got compared to an OC of mine and all I can say is oh no and they deserve better based on that alone - I have had Zuko for five minutes but if anything else happens to him I will kill everyone in this throne room and then myself

TOPH

- She is badass but like also will murder you while laughing maniacally? - for some reason reminds me of Nott from Critical Role, another show I Have Not Seen - Is blind but gets more out of making jokes abt being blind than she would from being able to see - “Sight is just a cheap tactic to make weak benders stronger!!!” - Literally the opposite of Aang and has killed many people?? - She Can Tell When You’re Lying. But I do not know how and Am simply mildly threatened by this - Therapist: Toph’s ability to know if you’re lying isn’t real and can’t hurt you. Toph’s ability to know if I’m lying: - She and Zuko.... buddies??? - if not they should be - tiny sad boy needs friends like toph

AZULA

- Evil Lesbian Culture - [BDG Voice] You committed a war crime! Oopsie! - took be gay do crime too literally - her and Zuko have accurate sibling writin except instead of “you ever want to murder your sibling for breathing in the same space as you,” being a Joke Azula took it seriously - okay but with a name like azula she should be the blue bender this ANNOYS me she should NOT be red bender - AZULa - AZUL - IT MEANS BLUE - She was half of y’alls gay awakenings and it SHOWS - Should have maybe been redeemed too??? Jury is out no one knows - Was she gay for Ty Lee or wasn’t she I can’t tell how much of that Audio is a joke - IS SHE ALSO TWELVE??? IS EVERYONE HERE TWELVE?? IS THIS TWELVE YEAR OLD COMITTING ATROCITIES?

UNCLE IROH

- A Good Man - Finally, Some Good Fucking [Adult Figures] - he has the tea. literally and figuratively - Ozai is like “and I will permanently disfigure my son and throw him out” and Iroh is like “What The Fuck, Ozai,” thus voicing the entire audience’s thoughts - Literally the only adult in this that I trust - I? I love him. this is all I have to say. my love for him is unending. Some1 protect this man from all harm - he’s Zuko’s uncle (and also Azula ig) but he does not seem related to Ozai. is it just a theme in this family that one sibling is chill and one sibling commits horrendous atrocities against your fellow human beings or - something happened to his son???? :((((( I Don’t Want Him To Have Suffered Like This

OZAI

- A BAD MAN - Uh Oh (stinky) - THE WORST OF THE MEN - I do not like him - Bastard man. nasty. committed war crimes and then went “but what if - get this - i also abused my son,” - I would like him to Not Be Like This - by Like This I mean present and alive - :/

TY LEE

- She’s NOT the There Is No War In Ba Sing Se lady and I don’t know why i thought she WAS but until I looked up her photo I thought that was her - She looks like a sweetheart tho - I hope nothing bad happens to her???? - talks about auras??? or smth??? let her vibe - She would talk animatedly to me about warrior cats if she was in my year seven class and I was sat alone and I would understand none of it but appreciate her anyway - if azula bullies her I’ll be :( at Azula and Azula will not care because she has Mommy Issues and therefore is slightly unhinged - She seems like that one kid with no trauma vibing at the edge of [every other kid having trauma] and not really getting it but trying her best - Is she also twelve?????? She maybe looks twelve

CABBAGE MAN

- HIS CABBAGES - fulfills my favourite trope: ordinary person repeatedly has life disrupted by the inconveniences of relying on actual children to save the world - probably has a campaign post canon for letting trained adults fix the worlds’ problems in the future - or sets up the Very First Cabbage Insurance Company - look at him. he loves his cabbages so much. you go you funky lil cabbage man

ALSO THE MOST IMPORTANT ONES MOMO

- LOOK AT HIM HE’S SO GOOD - small. fluffy. big ears - Lord Momo of the Momo Dynasty: his Momoness - a Good Boy...

APPA

- he looks so soft... - he can fly but he just does it by??? vibing through the air?? motionless??? iconic - I saw that one post about mishearing it as Abba and thinking he was Aang’s dad and he looks like he would be a good stand in dad ngl - he’s so LORGE - a chonky boy - love him

that is everyone I have heard of it and if I left someone out it’s a sign that y’all should talk about em more bc I have no clue they exist put more ATLA On my Dash ig I’ll do Legend of Korra ig maybe apparently that one has canon wlw and i love me some canon wlw

4K notes · View notes

cryptidmads · 4 years

Text

alright, so i went through the ama with wan hazmer and daim dziauddian on twitch and picked out every little tidbit i could about the megastars bc i knew you guys would want to know. this is a long post and i’m on mobile atm so i can’t put it under a read more — sorry about that! bosses are in chronological order, starting with DJSS and ending with Eve!

DJ SUBATOMIC SUPERNOVA

- djss took the least amount of time to develop out of all the bosses (haz says his fight took about half a year.)

- daim purposely tried to make djss' name as long as he could. he was specifically looking at negasonic teenage warhead from deadpool for inspiration.

- haz and daim do have the briefing/kliffnotes for djss. they discussed sharing them at some point, but idk when that would happen.

- related to the above, daim says that dj is in his mid thirties. EDIT: his kliffnotes were shared on twitter and they say he’s 41. daim must have goofed haha

- when asked if djss actually has a face and how he eats, daim compares it to kenny from south park and how you never see his face. he thinks dj does have a face in there, but that we just never see it. as for the “how does he eat” part, daim says that sometimes they don’t have to show everything.

- daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- daim said that uncle ali basically instantly landed the role as djss. he was that good.

SAYU

- sayu was obviously inspired by hatsune miku and other vocaloids, but haz brings up one particular commercial involving miku and google chrome, which involves a bunch of people collborating on songs and concept art for miku, similar to how sayu started as a collab between remi and tila in-universe.

- someone asked about the models for sayu's crew's apartments. there wasn't much on that, but haz mentions that one of his favourite nsr fanfics (yes, he reads them) is "Road to Redemption," and there's a scene that takes place in a studio where the crew works on sayu, and he really likes that.

- the devs wanted sayu's name to sound both malay and japanese at the same time (as well as a nod to miku). haz says it means “warm water” in japanese.

- akusuka is a direct copy of akihabara in terms of locale.

- sayu’s shellfish commercial is a homage to a real snack in malaysia named mamee monster, which is hugely popular with kids. the format of the commercial itself was inspired by a pocky commercial that featured hatsune miku.

YINU

- her game design (for her boss fight) was partially done in ms paint by music director falk (who made the base version of her boss theme)

- yinu's mom doesn't have a name. she's just mother/mama.

- haz confirmed that yinu's father is, in fact, dead.

- daim thought yinu’s name was a nod to yuna (a popular malaysian artist). it’s not.

- natura is daim’s favourite district. he likes how calm it is compared to the others.

- daim said that they wanted a hint of hope in all three of yinu’s backstory photographs, to show that no matter how bad your life gets, there’s always that glimmer of hope and that good things can still happen.

1010

- the members of 1010 do not have any official names.

- the assets for the autographs were made by the artists at one of the partner companies working with metronomik on nsr. haz and daim didn't really have anything to do with making them, and while daim did approve them for the final game, he was sorta skimming through a bunch of assets along with the autographs, and he didn't realize what they really were at the time until later. haz is impressed with how the fans managed to decipher them.

- 1010's fight was purposefully put between yinu's and eve's as a break from the emotional stuff.

- michael jackson was used as a reference for 1010's animations/moves.

- the Bio Tactical Shield that you get for zuke after beating 1010 is a reference to BTS.

- tangibly related, but the collectable figurines are supposed to serve more as a backstory to vinyl city as a whole, rather than 1010 or neon j. daim describes the figures as what events were going on and what people were doing before the events of nsr.

- 1010’s appearance from older trailers (where they all looked the same) were actually placeholders. 1010’s actual designs weren’t finished yet when those trailers were released.

- parts of 1010’s designs (for their bodies/outfits) were inspired by tron uprising, a project that daim worked on.

- somebody asked why 1010 and neon j have sculpted butt plates. daim and haz have no idea, but daim suggested that ellie (who designed 1010) and jan (who did their character models) put them there to up the “sexy robot” factor.

- daim’s favourite member of 1010 is purl-hew/blue, and haz’s favourite is eloni/green.

- the members of 1010 were designed based on popular tropes in boy bands. rin/white is “the main guy,” zimelu/red is the “bad boy,” purl-hew/blue is the “cool guy,” haym/yellow is the “young/innocent one,” and eloni/green is the “weird/funny one.”

- eloni/green not getting fan mail was based on how the “funny guy” of kpop bands/idol groups don’t seem to get as much attention as the rest of the group.

NEON J

- haz and daim didn't expect neon j to become so popular. haz joked about blaming it on ddaddystar, who did that doodle of djss and neon j from the credits.

- when asked about neon j’s age, daim said he’s definitely older than djss, and that he could be in his forties.

- related to the age thing, someone in chat said he should be older if he went to war in the sixties. haz replied by saying they never mentioned what year the game takes place in, so it doesn’t necessarily take place in the present/2020.

- a lot of people asked about the border wars, and daim and haz said they like leaving the bulk of it up to fan interpretation.

- daim said that neon j’s organs were preserved in a robotic shell after the war, and that’s why he’s considered a cyborg.

- as stated above, daim is a djneon/neonnova shipper, and it’s one his favourite pairings alongside zuke/mayday.

- neon j’s monologue was slightly longer, but it was cut down because zul (neon j’s va) didn’t do very many takes for the monologue, and the takes he did do didn’t have the comedic punch that daim was looking for, so it got shortened.

- the singing parts of neon j’s lines were ad-libbed by zul in his audition, and daim liked it so much that it stayed for the final game.

- neon j’s monologue had to be altered in the japanese dub so that the jokes/comedy would make more sense.

EVE

- the color changing paintings from her boss fight were created by accident.

- eve was put as the last boss because of how emotional her relationship with zuke was and how complicated and intricate she is as a whole compared to the rest of the bosses.

- daim considers eve to be the "final boss" for zuke, while tatiana is the final boss for mayday.

- eve took the longest to develop out of all the bosses. she was orignally a lot more complicated, and daim said they had to "filter" a lot of things about her in order to tone her down and fit her into the game.

- eve was almost scrapped from the game. daim said her concept as an eccentric artist wasn't as well known as the other four bosses’ concepts, and combine that with how long it took to finalize her... yeah.

- none of the artists have set in stone heights because of how the gameplay works, but eve is the tallest one. the closest scene in the game that has them at their actual heights is the ending.

- her name was originally eva, but it was changed bc there’s already a popular artist with the same name.

- daim explains that a big part of eve’s concept and theme is her embracing herself. he uses the example of eve’s backstory where she starts out hating herself and trying to cover the pink half of her face, but then starts doing less of that overtime. he also mentions that all the body parts (hands, arms, legs, etc.) from her fight also come from her embracing her body and using it in her artwork.

- dream fever is haz’s favourite district.

- daim didn’t originally think of zuke and eve as being an actual couple until later down the line when the story heavily implied it.

- eve’s younger designs were done by lzbros, who did all the 2d animation for the game.

#long post #no straight roads #nsr #dj subatomic supernova #nsr sayu #yinu nsr #1010 #neon j #eve nsr #madison speaks #this was fun! good stream good facts #nsr ama #1k

1K notes · View notes

neon-junkie · 3 years

Text

The aesthetic scents of almost every Red Dead Redemption character (1, 2, and online)

Arthur Morgan - The dry scent of campfire pressed to his clothes, rich metal from his revolver, and the lingering scent of a well-loved and groomed horse John Marston - The permanent tint of blood on his clothes, the mixture of scents from stolen livestock, and an array of cheap liquor Dutch van der Linde - Cigar smoke that he can barely see through, vanilla scented hair pomade, and on the rare occasion, the rich scent of blood-stained bill folds Hosea Matthews - A perfectly brewed cup of coffee, tobacco that's been smoked through a pipe, and the strange scent of mist on a cold morning Javier Escuella - The heavy wooden scent of a well-crafted guitar, honey and chocolate, and a lingering taste of iron and blood Bill Williamson - Well-worn Flannel shirts that are god-knows how old, cheap yet cheerful whiskey, and the deep musk of a loved horse Lenny Summers - Brand-new books that are eager to be read, the welcoming scent of the outdoors, and light aftershave that is likely stolen Sean MacGuire - A lingering scent of cheap, stolen liquor, the earthy taste of burning tobacco, and a tint of sweet candies and chocolates Charles Smith - The deep, thick, and rich scent of the earth, calm running water that doesn't want to be disturbed, and the fresh air that Eagles glide on

Kieran Duffy - Well-worn clothes that are eager to be washed, the faint taste of cheap cigarettes, and the musky scent of saddle wax Orville Swanson - The dry wooden scent of a well-worn cross, a hardback book that is almost falling apart, and the burning taste of whiskey Leopold Strauss - Hoards of well-used books, hefty stacks of cash, and the nasty scent of old, worn metal Josiah Trelawny - A cool glass of champagne, pristine clothes that were washed at the dry cleaners, and the tickly scent of feathers Simon Pearson - A mixture of earthy seasoning, the salty taste of the open sea, and the dust that lingers around Rhodes Micah Bell - The dry scent of a campfire, complimented with a just-as-heavy scent of gunpowder, and the nasty sting of snake venom Susan Grimshaw - Rich gunpowder that still lingers on her washed clothes, the distant scent of expensive yet stolen perfume, and a cheerful bottle of beer Mary-Beth Gaskill - Well-loved books with pressed flowers used as bookmarks, the faint scent of metal jewellery, and soft complimentary perfume Tilly Jackson - Sunflowers as tall as her, the earthy scent of oak from a well-used set of dominoes, and sweet and cheerful candies Molly O'Shea - Rich, thick, and expensive lipstick, pressed powder, and highly-scented perfume that never leaves your nose Karen Jones - A cheerful night at the campfire with cheap liquor, faint perfume that's almost worn off, and the heavy metal scent from a well-loved rifle Jack Marston - Roses that are just about wilted, rainfall so thick that it clouds your vision, and the distant scent of a campfire that refuses to burn out Sadie Adler - Heavy and permanent gunpowder, complimented by the scent of blood that lingers on her well-loved clothes, and a faint tint of flowers that are ready to bloom once more Uncle - Cheap and cheerful liquor, dust from the Great Plains, and campfire that never dies out Edgar Ross - Thick and earthy cigars, bill folds pressed in his inner-coat pocket, and the uncomfortable scent of civilization Agent Milton - Bill folds that are stained with blood, a hopeful hint of justice, and the waxy scent of hair pomade Black Belle - Spilled blood that has been attempted to be covered up with expensive perfume, stacks of stolen cash stuffed in her bra, and the bursting scent of the outdoors Flaco Hernández - Rich tobacco that is entwined in his clothes, expensive and stolen whiskey, and lingering gunpowder that is god-knows how many years old Hamish Sinclair - The sweet scent of the peaceful outdoors, running water that is bursting with life, and perfectly seasoned game meat Francis Sinclair - Rich and sweet candies that are not from this time period, dusty washing powder, and hoards of well-used paper Charlotte Balfour - Bluebells that have been pressed between the pages of well-loved books, fresh running water, and a distant taste of salty tears Eagle Flies - The metallic tint of blood, the scent of a campfire that lingers on his skin, and rich herbs pressed into powder to use as paint Rains Falls - Rich herbs that have been burnt in a campfire, steady flowing water, and dry smoke stuck to his clothes Jim Milton - The unkind scent of a working man; horse shit, thick sweat, and unseasoned meat Charles Châtenay - Rich and pigmented paint, expensive tobacco, and cheap pressed powder, all of which have been stolen Albert Mason - An eager taste for the wild outdoors, metal and wood tied together, and the faint scent of fresh coffee Marko Dragic - The mysterious scent of something burning, a wide mixture of metals, and blood, sweat, and tears Alden Carruthers - The lingering taste of mint, heavy coal-fire smoke from the passing trains, and stacks of well-worn paper Leigh Grey - Cheap, stolen, and illegal moonshine, the deep metal scent of a revolver, and a lingering tint of the dry dust around Rhodes Penelope Braithwait - Expensive and floral perfume, sad, salted, yet angry tears, and the thick scent of stolen, expensive heirlooms Beau Grey - Fresh hardback books that have never seen another owner, the sweet scent of the outdoors, and the lingering taste of mint Blind Man Cassidy - The twang of cheap metal, rich earth, complimented by the fresh outdoors, and a distant scent of tobacco Madam Nazar - Incense that seems to follow her wherever she goes, an array of flowers, and the sweet scent of mystery Maggie Fike - Rich blood and smoke that permanently lingers in her clothes, sweetly seasoned moonshine, and well-used, old paper books Lem Fike - A faint tint of moonshine, the earthy scent of a rich campfire, and well-worn clothes that are eager to be replaced Cripps - The fresh and welcoming scent of the outdoors, cool and running water, and perfectly seasoned game meat, complimented by hot coffee Marshal Davies - The permanent scent of gunpowder that has attempted to be covered up with aftershave, and a tint of metal from the badge he wears and the iron on his hip Gavin - Perfectly brewed tea, fresh and warm crumpets, and mystery Luisa Fortuna - The burning scent of the desert, a hungry taste for blood, and sweet woolly blue curls permanently pressed in her clothes Seth Briars - Do you really want me to tell you what he smells like? Bonnie MacFarlane - Blood, sweat, and tears, the hot and heavy scent of gunpowder, and well-groomed horses Landon Ricketts - A well worn set of playing cards, the sharp burn of whiskey, and a permanent scent of gunpowder entwined in his clothes

253 notes · View notes

levithestripper · 3 years

Text

Hey Uncle Arthur?

✩ warnings: red dead redemption 2 spoilers, slight angst. ✩

✩ a/n: me and leech were talking about jack & arthur's relationship, and this is what came of it. Wilbur is Arthur's horse btw! ✩

✩ taglist: @mallr4ts @reddeadrevolutionn @leech-in-a-peach @floup-doodles @mesangelique ✩

When Jack finds out that Arthur is sick, he runs over to him with a book that Hosea bought him. Arthur is sitting on his bedroll, flipping through his journal when Jack comes over. He moves to let the boy sit on his lap, comfortably resting against his chest.

"Hi, Uncle Arthur!! I brought a book to read to you! Uncle Hosea taught me how to read a few pages of it before we moved again. Momma reads to me when I'm not feeling well, so I thought I'd read to you to make you feel better quicker!" Jack looked up at Arthur with a sweet grin on his face, giggling when he got a smile in return. He opened the book and started to slowly read to him, every so often sounding out a word he didn't know. When he'd find a longer phrase that he couldn't figure out, Arthur helps him out by sounding it out with him, repeating it until Jack got the hang of it.

It was a sweet sight for sure, Uncle Arthur and little Jack sitting in the run-down bunk bed in Lakay, reading fairy tales and folk stories together until it got dark. The girls across the room were watching them with big smiles, loving how cute they looked together. Dutch even got his act together and snuck a peek at them, his heart melting at the sight of his son and grandson.

When Abigail came around to get Jack ready for bed, he begged her to let him have a sleepover with Arthur. She let him only after Arthur promised not to let him stay up too late. When it was time for bed, Jack insisted that Arthur puts on pajamas too so they can match.

Jack obviously favored Arthur compared to everyone else in camp, other than Abigail of course. He was the cool uncle, the fun uncle. Arthur is the one that takes him fishing, teaches him how to ride a horse and how to take care of that horse. He's attached to him at the hip, always wanting to do chores with him and do everything Arthur's doing too.

"Hey Uncle Arthur, when you feel better, can you take me fishing again? Only after you stop coughing though since Momma says you need to rest to get better!" Jack piped up, turning around on his lap so he could look at him easier.

"Of course, Jacky. I'll be better in no time," he paused to cough into his elbow, turning his head away to ensure he doesn't cough on Jack, "I'll be better in no time so we can go fishing. Heard there was a rare fish 'round here that's just beggin' us to catch it." That made Jack grin excitedly, giggling. "We can take out ol' Wilbur and ride out to the river by our old camp and catch as many fish as we can carry. How's that sound?"

Jack grinned wider, hugging Arthur's middle tightly. His arms were too short to wrap all the way around him, so instead, he squeezed him the best he could. "We're gonna catch the tastiest fish, right Uncle Arthur?"

"That's right, Jacky. You'll make your Momma so proud of you, growing up into a strong man that can take care of her when she's older." He smiled down at him softly, running a hand over Jack's short, choppily cut hair.

Arthur could feel his heart melting or it was cracking in half, he couldn't tell. He knew he'd never get better. He wanted to get better for Jack so he could go fishing with him again and see him grow up. He knew that John would someday grow into a good father role for the boy, but he wanted to be around in case he didn't.

"Uncle Arthur, could you tell me a story before I go to sleep?" Jack asked softly, looking over at him from the other side of Arthur's little 'room'.

He thought for a moment before nodding. He told a story about when the gang was just the three of them, Dutch, Hosea, and himself. Jack always seemed to enjoy those, 'specially since they all seemed like a western fiction book. It seemed so outlandish that the gang could run from place to place like that, given how many people they had now. Arthur made them sound so fantastical and amazing, it sounded like they came from an entirely different world. Which in a way it did.

Eventually, Jack fell asleep listening to him talk, holding his little wooden horse toy to his chest. Arthur draped a couple of blankets over him, watching him sleep before falling asleep himself.

69 notes · View notes

herzlak · 3 years

Text

Team Münster playing Red Dead Redemption 2:

Thiel:

rides out for hours on his own, superb gunslinger, always clean headshots, owns one draft horse he stole somewhere, owns the most decent guns, doesn't do side quests if they ain't necessary, hates Swanson and Uncle, preferred playing as John, doesn't name his horses, his Arthur either's got world's longest beard and messy hair or no hair on his face at all, calls Nadeshda "Sadie 2.0" after finishing the game, doesn't have a lot of money, donates animals to Pearson, always back at camp in time for stew, found out where Princess Isabeau is but won't tell you, smells when there's an ambush, never ever visited the theatre

Boerne:

tried and failed to tame the white Arabian, still stuck with some Tennessee Walker he stole, can't ride through Saint Denis without starting a shootout, thinks Dutch is smooth, already got about two dozen horses killed in battles, not happy with the fact that there's no wine at the saloon, QUESTS, didn't finish the game because playing John annoyed the shit outta him, "it's probably an ambush so I won't help", never donates money to the gang, antagonises everyone, doesn't help a damsel in distress, reads spoilers, well dressed Arthur with moustache, low honour, thinks Javier is cool, antagonises John, has not picked up one herb ever and won't start it now

Alberich:

high honor, well groomed Arthur, owns two horses, figured out that a Missouri Foxtrotter is better than the Arabian, managed to get the Silver Dapple Pinto at the end of the mission with Mr Mason, cried when Arthur died, likes the girls as well as Lenny and Kieran, does all stranger missions, managed to complete 100%, saw straight through half of the plot back in Colter already, first one to realise that Dutch is gonna damn the entire gang, doesn't hunt because she's sorry for the animals, kills folk who need killing, Hosea > Dutch, surprisingly good at shooting, stops to pat dogs, raged when Hosea was shot, doesn't antagonise anyone other than Micah, gets headaches from missions with Dutch

Mirko:

not once got a horse killed, higher honour than Jesus, cried when Arthur and his horse died, never out of food, not that good at shooting, spends a lot of time at camp talking to gang members, never liked Micah, thinks Swanson and Molly deserved better, got four horses and loves them all dearly, didn't sell the black Shire, loves stranger missions, adores the landscape, felt really uncomfortable in Chapters 5 and 6, doesn't always kill but hogtie people when he has to, goes collecting herbs, reads Arthur's journal, Mary-Beth and Tilly are his favourites, Charles too, bought a pink shirt for Arthur, played Online once and got traumatised for his life

Klemm:

first thing she bought were cigars, kept the black Shire because it's dark and scary, owns three horses, all of them are black, best at quick draw, killed more O'Driscolls than Sadie, would win a battle against 50 Lemoyne Raiders, her Arthur looks like a killer, secretly likes Charles, greet greet antagonise, 400$ bounty in every state, doesn't spare folk, more cigarettes in her bag than food, mid honour to everyone's surprise, dresses Arthur like a true killer, definitely won't wash the blood off after a gun fight, gallops through Saint Denis without hesitation, regularly kills gators

Nadeshda:

Sadie is her spirit animal, free roamed back in Colter already, killed the entire Murfree Brood when she was still in Chapter 2, owns a Turkoman, prefers The Last of Us over RDR2, plays Online more than Story, robs stage coaches when she's bored, dislikes Mary Linton, likes to go bounty hunting, grew to despise Dutch, always loots corpses, not a shack she hasn't robbed, stayed away from Sonny's shack tho, beats Micah at five finger fillet, likes a drink or two at the saloon, *stabs*, takes missions very seriously, tried to get to Blackwater more than once

Vaddern:

spends hours riding around the country, usually found in the Heartlands, always busy collecting tobacco, still rides the Morgan he got when getting to Valentine first, always misses out on side missions, stopped playing somewhere in Chapter 3, plays poker and loses all his money, worse aiming skills than a blind, his horse was fatally injured several times but he wipes out a reviver any time and no one knows how, never been to Roanoke or Saint Denis, searches for his hat until he finds it even if it's the last thing he'll do, only notices enemies when it's too late, rumor has it that he's taken on Animal Crossing after failing RDR2, low honour by accident but he doesn't realise it anyways

Bulle:

didn't make it out of Colter due to sheer lack of skill, plays GTA now because "it's cooler"

#tatort münster

5 notes · View notes

dettiot · 4 years

Text

Fic: late-night interruption 9/11

late-night interruption Author: dettiot Rating: G Summary: When Obi-Wan receives a late-night comm from Sabé, he’s not sure what to expect. But what he learns will change many lives . . . and the fate of the Republic. Note: There's only two more chapters to go after this one! I'm really excited about sharing the conclusion to this fic, and I really appreciate everyone who have let me know they're enjoying the story. Also, I love how I explained Satine's survival after Maul stabbed her with the Darksaber, so even though I'm sure it makes no sense--after all, it's Star Wars. Nothing makes sense. :-)

Also on AO3!

XXX

As he gently rocked Luke in his arms, watching Ahsoka make faces and smile at Leia, Anakin Skywalker felt at peace for perhaps the first time in his life.

Before this moment, the closest he had come to this feeling was in his earliest days. When he was with his mother, wrapped in her love and care. But growing up on Tatooine as a slave, bothered by strange impulses and advanced reflexes, his fear and worry had worked against his mother’s calm, centering presence.

Then came the years of training, butting heads with Obi-Wan while seeking his approval, the whirlwind of his romance with Padmé, the start of the war, the secrets and hiding . . . there had been no peace.

Not until now, when he had broken the Jedi Code beyond redemption and the Chancellor, the man he considered a mentor, might be the true source of all the galaxy’s problems . . . now, he felt the serenity he had always been searching for.

And then Leia opened her mouth and yowled, followed by Luke a moment later.

“What did I do?!?” Ahsoka yelped, holding Leia away from her body. Leia’s face was red and her fists were balled up as she cried.

Chuckling softly, Anakin rocked Luke as he lifted Leia up and held her close to him, so she could cuddle up against both him and Luke. Within a moment, Leia settled down and her brother did the same. “Nothing, Snips. She’s a baby, sometimes she’s just gonna cry.”

“Now I wish I had spent more time in the crèche,” Ahsoka said with a sheepish smile. She tilted her head to look at him. “I know you spent even less time there than I did--how are you so good at this?”

Anakin shrugged a little. “Don’t know. It just . . . I feel like I know what to do.”

“You always had good instincts with kids,” Ahsoka said.

“Thanks,” Anakin said. “If it wasn’t for the Force, I’m sure I’d be useless.”

“I doubt that, Skyguy,” Ahsoka said softly.

That made him look at Ahsoka, really taking her in. She had gotten taller, and her montrals were longer, with more defined patterns there and on her face. But the physical was only part of how she had changed. She seemed . . . more guarded. Less open. She held herself differently and didn’t react like Anakin expected.

It made him want to go straight to the Jedi Council and ask them if they realized what they had done, how they had discarded Ahsoka like a broken blaster instead of treating her like a person, a member of the Order . . .

But--but that wouldn’t change the past. Even if it would make Anakin feel better.

He drew in a deep breath. Ahsoka had left the Order because she hadn’t felt like she belonged. Perhaps that might change in the future. He hoped it would. Even if he was expelled from the Order, he hoped Ahsoka would find her way back to being a Jedi one day.

And even if she never did, he knew Ahsoka would always do what was right. She would always help people.

“Ahsoka, I hope you know that--no matter what, I care about you,” he said, stumbling a little over his words. “You--you’re like what I imagine having a sister is like, and--just because you’re not part of the Order--I mean . . . even if you don’t ever come back, my feelings won’t ever change.”

A warm smile lit up Ahsoka’s face. Something more mature than her old cheeky grin, but no less joyful. “Thank you, Anakin.”

“I mean it,” he said, rocking the twins a little. “You’re part of my family. Just like Obi-Wan is, which is the only way I was able to get him to be here when the twins were born.”

“I know you mean it,” Ahsoka said, looking up at him--but not as much as she used to. “I can feel it. And I meant it when I said thank you. It . . . it makes a difference, knowing that . . . that I’m not alone in the galaxy.”

“Not as long as I’m around,” Anakin promised. “And I bet the kids will feel the same way about you. You’ll be the cool aunt who tells them all the cool things she does.”

Ahsoka let out a soft laugh. “And Obi-Wan will be the cool uncle?”

“I don’t know about that . . .” Anakin said with a grin. “Although he does have a bunch of stories about me being an idiot, so I suppose that could hold a bit of appeal for the twins someday.”

That made Ahsoka laugh harder, only to bite it off when Luke made a little snuffling noise. “Oh, sorry!” Ahsoka whispered.

“It’s okay, Snips. Here, hold Luke--he likes everyone, it seems,” he said, handing Luke over to her.

She looked down at Luke, rubbing his back a little. “His eyes look just like yours, Anakin.”

“Yeah, Padmé and I were talking about how much each of them look like us. Leia’s gonna be just as pretty as her mother, aren’t you, my little love?” he cooed to Leia. She blinked her brown eyes at him, then patted her little hand against his chest.

“That’s right,” he said, smiling at his daughter. “Pretty like Padmé and stubborn like me. It’s a good thing Uncle Obi-Wan has so much experience with stubborn Skywalkers, since he’s gonna train you someday, isn’t that so?”

“Oh, Force.”

Anakin blinked and looked at Ahsoka, who was staring at Luke. “Ahsoka?” Anakin asked. “What is it?”

“I . . . I think Luke has connected to me?” she said, sounding confused. “It--it feels a bit like my bond with you.”

Stretching out, Anakin used his feelings to explore his son’s. His discovery made him beam. “Uh-oh. Looks like Luke knows who he wants to train him.”

Ahsoka stared at him. “Anakin!”

“Hey, it doesn’t mean it’s going to happen,” Anakin said, trying to reassure her. “Look at your bond with Master Plo.”

“That felt different from this,” Ahsoka said, looking back down at Luke, her face softening--probably without her realizing it, Anakin thought.

“There’s also a lot of time before either Luke or Leia are ready to be Padawans,” Anakin reminded her. “Especially with everything that’s going on--”

Leia tugged at his tunic, interrupting him. When he looked at her, there was something about her face that made him think of Padmé. He rubbed her back and looked at Ahsoka. “And . . . and they might not be trained as Jedi anyway.”

His former Padawan’s eyes went wide. “What? With how Force sensitive they are?”

Anakin breathed out slowly. “Padmé had a really strong reaction to the twins being so strong in the Force. It was right after she gave birth, so her emotions were all over the place, but--but I think she feels conflicted over the idea of giving the twins to the Temple.”

“Oh,” Ahsoka said, her natural empathy showing in her voice. “That must be very difficult to think about. Especially when you’re holding your newborns and you think you have to give them up.”

“Yeah,” Anakin said. “And . . . well, I’m done hiding things from the Council. But if I get expelled, I wouldn’t even be there to keep an eye on them. Not that I don’t trust you or Obi-Wan or the other Jedi, but . . .”

“It’s not the same,” Ahsoka said, nodding her head. “But, Master--I don’t think you’ll be expelled.”

There was such certainty in her voice, Anakin had to look at her. She gave him a small smile.

“Last night, before I contacted Obi-Wan, I felt something in the Force. A shift that seemed to mean there was something good coming. I think it might have been the birth of the twins. So I don’t see how something the Force sees as a positive would lead to your expulsion.”

Could it be? Could his children be so important? He hadn’t felt such stirrings, but then, he had been a little distracted, what with Padmé giving birth. Perhaps Obi-Wan had noticed something--he would have to talk to him later. Once their meeting was over, once they knew exactly what was happening with the clones.

Once Obi-Wan finished reuniting with his lost love.

Anakin looked at Ahsoka. “What do you think is happening out there? With Obi-Wan and the Duchess?”

“I’ve been trying to give them privacy, even with how emotional they both feel,” Ahsoka said, which Anakin acknowledged with a nod. “But . . . but I think it’s going to turn out okay.”

“I sure hope so,” Anakin said, gently rocking Leia and moving her towards the crib. “I think we’re going to need both Obi-Wan and Satine for what’s to come. Although if anyone deserves a break from putting the galaxy first, it’s those two.”

“Now that I’ve seen them together, I agree,” Ahsoka said. “I wonder what they’re doing.”

XXX

Never before had a silence held so much.

Obi-Wan couldn’t stop staring at Satine as Padmé ushered everyone else out of the room. In the back corner of his mind, he wondered if he should feel grateful to the Senator for allowing him these moments with Satine.

And that realization left him standing as silent and still as a nerf surrounded by banthas.

Like so many times in their past, it was Satine who took the first step. “Obi-Wan--”

Her voice made him squeeze his eyes shut. She was thin and pale, clearly still recovering from her injury and the toil of her recovery. Her beautiful blonde hair was cut close to her scalp, and her eyes were shadowed with pain and worry.

But her voice was the same. Strong and sure, steady and unyielding.

And there was no trace of anger or judgment in her voice. No unspoken accusation about him leaving her for dead.

He supposed he felt enough of that for both of them.

How--how could he have not realized Satine was still alive? He had held her close, extending his emotions for any flicker of her presence, searching for a heartbeat, but there had been nothing.

“I don’t understand,” he said softly, opening his eyes to look at her. “I . . . I was sure that you were dead.”

“So was I,” Satine said, her eyes warmer and softer than he had ever seen them. “I would not have told you how I felt about you unless I thought I was dying.”

His heart clenched in his chest and Obi-Wan opened his mouth, ready to--he wasn’t sure what he was ready to do, and he didn’t get a chance to find out, because Satine took two steps towards him and covered his mouth with her hand.

Her skin was warm and smooth against his lips, and he could catch the faintest hint of lilies--the perfume she had always worn, even during their year on the run when it could have been used to identify her. The scent that had once wrapped around the both of them, when they had--

“No, Obi,” Satine whispered, jerking him out of his lustful thoughts. “You don’t have an obligation to say anything. I only told you because--because I wanted you to know. So you knew there was someone who . . .”

She let her voice trail off, then swallowed and dropped her hand from his face.

“The first Mandalorian Jedi created the Darksaber. You know that, of course,” Satine said, not waiting for any acknowledgement from him before continuing. “What the Jedi didn’t know is the Darksaber has a will of its own. Something special about the crystal that powers it, so the legends say.”

Obi-Wan took a deep breath, trying to rise above his emotions. “Kyber crystals pick their Jedi. So it’s not outside the realm of possibility that the Darksaber has similar characteristics.”

“Yes,” Satine said, clasping her hands together. “So when Maul used the Darksaber on me . . . it did not wish for me to die.”

“But--but you were stabbed,” Obi-Wan said, knowing he sounded like a fool for stating the obvious. “Straight through your chest.”

Satine gave a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “I’m as confused as you are. As disbelieving. Yet here I stand. As best as my doctors can determine, the Darksaber shifted itself as it entered my body, reforming the blade to allow my vital organs to be dealt only glancing blows. My muscles were shredded and I needed a new set of lungs, but . . . but I survived.”

It was so extraordinary, so seemingly impossible. Yet . . . he was a Jedi. He had seen so many remarkable events in his life, witnessing what most would call miracles.

Too often, he had faced heartbreak and tragedy--random, chaotic, meaningless. And he had consoled himself by remembering it was all the will of the Force. Could it be, for once in his life, the will of the Force brought happiness and renewal?

Such thoughts weren’t very Jedi-like of him. All things came from the Force, and its will moved in mysterious ways that couldn’t be fully understood. But right now, Obi-Wan didn’t want to act like a Jedi.

He wanted to act like a man. A man reunited with the woman who meant everything to him.

“Satine,” he said softly, moving towards her. He reached out and gently wrapped his hands around her clasped ones, savoring the warmth of her skin.

She never hesitated to look in his eyes. To meet his gaze and listen to what he had to say, even if it wasn’t what she wanted to hear. And this time was no different. So he could see the hope in her eyes.

“When we first met, no one had ever looked at me and just knew me so quickly, so thoroughly,” Obi-Wan said, gazing at her. “And even though we both grew and changed, you still know me.”

“I do,” Satine said softly, turning her hands in his grasp in order to lace her fingers through his. “Just like you know me.”

Nodding, Obi-Wan smiled at her, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers. This close to her, he could see the fine lines on her face, the way her lips oh-so-slightly trembled, the glimmer of tears in her eyes.

And even though he had always thought confessing his feelings to Satine would be the most difficult thing he would ever do, it wasn’t.

“I loved you always . . . and I always will, Satine,” he told her, purposefully repeating the words of her own confession. “I do not say this out of obligation--but because it’s what I feel, and to hide that is wrong--”

“Oh, shut up,” Satine said, going up on her toes and kissing him softly.

It was like the whole galaxy burst into song. Not simply because they were kissing, but because . . . they were in love.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes and kissed her back slowly, taking his time, feeling every precious emotion Satine created within him, drawing her close and into his arms.

All too soon, Satine pulled back and he followed her lips, bending down to kiss her.

“That was quite rude, my dear,” he said, pressing soft kisses along her jaw. “Telling me to shut up?”

“Oh . . . well . . . Jedi are so much talk and so little action,” Satine breathed out, tilting her head to give him more access to her skin.

“Only some Jedi,” he said, lightly nipping her earlobe.

Satine let out the most gratifying little gasp of a whimper and drew away from him. “Obi, as--as extremely pleasant as this is--”

“We have work to do,” he finished for her, nodding. But that didn’t stop him from reaching out and holding her hand. “But Satine, just so we’re clear . . . once our work is done? I am yours. No matter what.”

Over the years, there had been a few moments when he had seen Satine happy. They were moments he treasured, how the light of her Force presence increased and her smile reached her eyes. But right now, he could tell Satine was more than happy. She was practically radiant in her joy.

And Obi-Wan wanted to make her that happy for the rest of his life.

XXX

If there was one thing Padmé Amidala knew, it was maintaining a secret romance. She understood how hard it was to stay professional when you wanted to be with your love, to show some sign of your relationship.

It was wonderful that Satine was alive. Amazing, in fact. Padmé had grieved for the Mandalorian Duchess, a woman who had inspired Padmé to balance both the political and the personal. To remember she was also Padmé as well as Senator Amidala, and that she couldn’t be an effective Senator if she wasn’t also a person, too.

So the least Padmé could do was give Satine and Obi-Wan a few minutes together. To allow them time to talk, to resolve their emotions. Because Padmé had never seen Obi-Wan so emotional as when he saw Satine.

Unfortunately, though, their time was almost up. The meeting was scheduled to begin soon, and while their other guests hadn’t arrived yet, it was likely to happen any moment now.

Taking a breath, Padmé looked at Lady Kryze and smiled. “It shouldn’t be much longer before the meeting begins. It’s probably time to remind everyone about the meeting and gather in the living room. Goodness knows Anakin loses all track of time around the twins.”

Lady Krzye nodded, her lips quirking upwards. “And someone should go make sure Satine and Master Kenobi are still clothed.”

“Ah, so you . . . are aware of their past?” Padmé said, tilting her head to one side as she settled on an appropriate euphemism for the relationship between Satine and Obi-Wan.

The Mandalorian woman snorted. “Of course. No one makes Satine lose her temper like he does.”

“I don’t think anyone unsettles Obi-Wan like Satine, so I suppose they’re equal.”

With a nod, Lady Kryze said, “I’ll take care of my sister and her jetii.”

“I’ll meet you there after I’ve gotten Anakin and Ahsoka,” Padmé said, feeling a flutter of gratitude to Lady Kryze for volunteering to handle the more awkward situation.

The two of them separated and Padmé headed to the nursery, excited to get a few moments with the twins before she had to focus on work.

Seeing Anakin hold both the babies made her heart melt. Padmé stepped inside quietly and walked over to him. “Hello, my darlings.”

Anakin smiled widely at her. “Hey, angel. I was just going to put the twins in their crib.”

“Are they asleep?” Padmé asked, noticing how Ahsoka slipped out of the room. She managed to smile quickly at the Togruta before turning her attention to the children.

“Not yet, but they’re definitely sleepy,” Anakin said, showing her Leia’s face smushed against his tunic, her eyes drifting shut and her lips pursed.

Padmé gently stroked Leia’s head, then lifted her out of Anakin’s arms. She settled Leia against her chest, swaying from side to side. Leia let out a soft little sigh, looking up at Padmé with so much love and trust in her eyes.

As she gazed at her daughter, Padmé couldn’t help smiling. Leia was just so precious and unique. The idea of getting to watch Leia grow up, taking pride in her successes and helping with her challenges, was a humbling one. Getting to do that with Luke as well made Padmé feel even more humble.

There wasn’t much time before the meeting. Part of her wished she could just stay here, and sing Leia to sleep and then cuddle Luke while telling him a story. But this meeting would mean so much to the whole galaxy. It could lead to the peace which would allow her to spend such time with her babies.

Still . . . there was enough time to spend a few minutes with the twins.

“Aren’t they just perfect?” Anakin whispered.

And Padmé could only smile and nod at him. Because he was right.

End, Chapter 9

#anidala #obitine #anakin skywalker #ahsoka tano #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #padme amidala #bo-katan kryze #star wars #late-night interruption

55 notes · View notes

splat-dragon · 3 years

Link

A myocardial rupture is a tear that occurs in the muscle layer of the heart wall. The tear can occur in the inner walls which divides the heart into separate chambers or on the outer wall which keeps the circulating blood within the heart. A myocardial rupture can also involve the tiny muscles that pull on the heart valves, the cords connected to these muscles and the heart valves, or even the flaps of the heart valves itself. The outlook for a myocardial rupture depends on where the tear occurs. Sometimes death is almost instant despite prompt medical attention. At other times medical treatment can prove to be life saving. However, the overall outlook for a myocardial rupture is poor.

God, but Arthur was tired.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. Probably, he thought, when his head had swam and bile had risen in his throat, his arm had hurt and then he’d collapsed off of River. How long he’d been out, he didn’t know; long enough that he’d woken to find himself nose to nose with a coyote, a bird having tugged loose a decent chunk of the shoulder of his shirt.

And that had been… god, what, five days? a week? ago? Even Bill and Uncle were asking if he was alright, so he knew he had to look something awful.

But there wasn’t enough time in the day to sleep. If he sat down someone was there tugging at his shirt, “Arthur, you’re being lazy! Come do this, come do that!” and if he laid down someone would throw up the flap of his tent, “Arthur! You’ve slept long enough, get out here and help us!” he’d fallen asleep in the saddle, one other time, and found himself dumped when he tilted; had dozed off waiting for a wagon and gotten a good tongue lashing, tried to camp out and every time been ambushed by wolves or cougars, O’Driscolls or Murfree Brood depending on where he tried.

So sleep, it seemed, was something he’d just have to learn to live without.

He scrabbled in the ledger - internally cringed at what had become of his usually neat handwriting - his hands were shaking and the world danced before his eyes, it was a miracle he could even get the pencil on the actual paper - what he’d just put in the tithing box, probably more than was the camp’s share but it wasn’t like he had time to spend money, anyways, so why bother taking his share?

Maybe… tent? Even just a few minutes would be better than nothing, and it was getting dark, maybe no one would notice him—

“Arthur!”

Fuck.

“Yeah Dutch?” and he must have been trying too hard not to slur and turned stern because Dutch’s grin hardened into a glare,

“Got a problem son?”

Arthur’s head throbbed as he shook it, “No Dutch, just,” he yawned, “Tired.” he rubbed his chest.

“Well,” Dutch patted him on the shoulder before beginning to steer him to his tent, “You can sleep later! Javier heard about a wagon and you’re the perfect person to go for it!”

Arthur rubbed his chest, “Dutch, I’m not sure…”

“I am!” Dutch laughed, nudging him into his tent, and Arthur must have been truly feeling his temper because his face flushed and the vein in his neck bulged, hands clenching as he fought the urge to yell—

—would have, if his heart wasn’t doing flips in his chest. Anxiety? Was he too tired to feel the worry his body felt about yelling at Dutch? He knew, though, that yelling wouldn’t get him anywhere, so he tried again,

“Dutch, I’m exhausted,”

And, he realized, not feeling so hot, swallowing rapidly as bile threatened to rise in his throat, a cool chill breaking across his skin.

Dutch scowled, reaching to unroll the map on his table. “We all are son, but we all have to pull. our. weight. You can sleep when you get back from robbing the wagon.”

Somehow, Arthur doubted that. He’d heard that several times in the last… he didn’t know how long.

He reached up, rubbing his chest before his face, trying to get his vision to focus and the sweat off his skin. Started to say something before realizing that, if he opened his mouth, he was going to be sick all over Dutch’s floor, and didn’t feel up to cleaning sick off wood.

“I’m glad to see we’ve reached an agreement,” Dutch said when Arthur leaned against the table, and began to point out where the wagon was coming from and the best place to wait, pausing and waiting for Arthur’s input, frowning when he got none, Arthur staring pursed-lipped at the map, before going back, telling him how many guards there were supposed to be, that he didn’t want him to draw any attention, that he wasn’t to lead anyone back to camp.

All the things Arthur already knew, although he could barely hear Dutch over the dull thudding in his ears. Lub-dub-lub-thump-lub-dub-thump-dub-lub-thump.

“Alright son?”

His head snapped up, pupils blown wide, gulping bile and saliva, “Yeah, yeah Dutch.” another rub of the chest,

“Well then, what are you waiting for?” Dutch snapped, “Get going!”

Arthur forced himself to straighten, the world spinning, mouth filling with saliva as his… well, he couldn’t remember his last meal either, as whatever-his-last-meal-had-been threatened to make a reappearance, struggling not to reel as he made his way out of Dutch’s tent more by memory than anything else, the world little more than a blur of colors,

Lub-dub-lub-thump-lub-dub-lub-dub-thu-

A sharp pain, and Arthur was gone.

#cw: heart attack #cw: myocardial rupture #cw: character death #Red Dead Redemption #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #rdr2 #my heart beat for you #thedoodlenoodle_wa

1 note · View note

ash-lord-writes · 5 years

Text

All I Need (Sean MacGuire x Reader)

(I do not own this gif)

Pairing: Sean MacGuire x (Fem)Reader

Fandom: Red Dead Redemption 2

Words: 1,137

Warnings: None

Author’s Note: We need more oneshots with Sean! It was really fun writing his personality and accent in this oneshot. Whatta tink? :)

“Whatta ye say we go cause a bit o’ trouble at de saloon?” Sean sauntered up next to you as you scrubbed some dirty linens in the wash basin. You huffed at his question.

“Can’t you see I’m a bit busy?” You stopped washing, then wiped your brow before looking up at Sean, who didn’t seem all too impressed.

“Ah come on,” he begged, “You could use a wee break to tie ye over.” You rolled your eyes, knowing full well a wee break was; getting absolutely smashed and passing out somewhere right along side Sean. Crazy bastard.

“Miss Grimshaw would hunt us down, skin us alive, then force Mary-Beth to sew our hides into some long johns for Uncle… Do you really want that?” Sean paused and rubbed his chin, perhaps in thought, then shrugged.

“Based off de piss poor progress you’ve gone and done so far, I’d say it’s very likely even if we dahn’t disappear.” He gave a quick nod towards the current linen in the basin. You held up the cloth to inspect and turns out Sean isn’t as clueless as he looks. Furiously scrubbing linens equals large tears in the cloth.

“Well,” you say as you drop the linen in the bin and stand up, “Let us disappear for a while. Maybe a day or two.”

Sean chuckles and rubs his hands together. “Ah ha, now yer talkin me language.”

You give a small laugh back, “What, idiot?” The two of you walk out of the camp towards your horses, laughing at each other’s banter and set off towards the local town.

After many shots later, you stumble out of the saloon, nearly falling down the stairs into the muddy road. Behind you, Sean burst through the saloon doors, laughing loudly, then tripped over his own feet and landed on the wooden floorboards with a thud.

“Ah Christ,” he cursed while picking himself up, “That was close. Would’ve ‘ad to carry me home.” He chuckled and brushed off his liquor soaked coat as if it would magically clean it, but the sentiment was still cute. What?

You shook your drunken thoughts from your head. You helped Sean get down the stairs in one piece, then kept your arms around each other’s shoulders for support. Side by side, you made your way down the road towards your horses, singing merrily and laughing when your feet failed to do what feet were supposed to do.

Sean paused and stared up at the horses’ saddles. He blinked a couple times, then shook his head. “Nope, sorry Y/N. Aye am naht going to make dat.” Sean slouched forward a bit, nearly sending you both down to the ground, but your legs still kept firm.

“All right,” you mumbled, “Guess we have a long walk ahead of us.” With your horses following behind you, the pair of you set off in the direction of camp. Sean grew quiet and you stopped talking as well. It was a nice and peaceful change.

It may have been an hour later or maybe 10 minutes, but you could feel Sean becoming heavier as you were walking along. The fool was falling asleep while on the move. There was no way they’d make it back tonight in this condition. With your last remaining strength, you dragged Sean off the road and towards the treeline where you could pass out without fear of being robbed.

“Okay, Sean,” you grunted while dragging him under the trees, “This is our extravagant hotel for the night.” You dropped him to the ground, where he again landed with a thud and a grunt.

“Ah,” he breathed, “Aye wonder what dey used for dis comforter.” He rolled onto his back and looked at you, smiling.

You laughed. “Rocks, I suppose.” You laid down next to him and stared up at the night sky. It twinkled brilliantly above you, lighting the countryside. Sean let out a long sigh, then gently took your hand into his. Shocked, you glance back at him to find that he is already staring at you.

“Thought I’d try it while aye ‘ave liquid courage. You probably wahnt remember it, but maybe ye will.” He gives your hand a small squeeze. “I- I just need ye to know this.”

You nod silently, hoping he can’t see the scarlet red creeping across your face. He was really doing this, right now, and it honestly made you so giddy. You have had a crush on Sean for the longest time, but you didn’t want to ruin your friendship so you kept it quiet. Now here he was about to pour his heart out to you. Butterflies were soon flying around in your chest.

“Y/n,” Sean paused, furrowing his brows and licked his lips before continuing,”Aye want ye to know that I’ve always liked you. Aye know I’ve done a piss poor job of showing ye, but you make me feel so alive… And I’m glad aye can be meself ‘round ye and naht act like someone else.”

You exhaled heavily. “Sean, I really like you too.” You smiled in return when his face lit up when he heard those words from your mouth. “Ah Y/n. Aye would kiss ye right now if aye could,” Sean exclaimed, “But aye can’t really move.”

You both chuckled. “You can kiss me in the morning if you’re still alive.”

“Oh you know nothing can get a one up ahn ol’ Sean “Vigilant” MacGuire. I’ll hear em before aye see em.”

That was the last thing you heard before passing out. The next moment you opened your eyes it was already morning. You rub the sleep from your eyes and look over to at a still sleeping Sean. You watched as his chest rose and fell as he slept. Carefully, you scooted over next to him and cuddled into his side.

“Goodmornin’,” Sean mumbled, still groggy from the whiskey last night. He shifted to free his arm from under you, then wrapped it around you, pulling you closer to him. “Did ye forget?”

You looked up at his face and smiled. “No, I haven’t.”

He smiled back. “Good,” he replied. He gave you a quick peck on the lips.

“Miss Grimshaw is probably out looking for us now.” You remembered what you did to those linens yesterday and dreaded going back to camp.

Sean was quiet for a moment. “Wanna go back to de saloon?”

“Sean,” you huffed while playfully hitting at his chest. “What, it was only a suggestion.”

Laying there in the grass, feeling the cool breeze tickling your skin, snuggling with Sean was all you needed. Being with Sean was all you needed. He was all you needed. The camp didn’t need to see what new shenanigans the two you had in store now.

#rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #red dead redemption 2 fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #oneshot #sean macguire #sean macguire x reader #x reader

59 notes · View notes

shittybundaskenyer · 5 years

Text

OC Interview: Avenia Trevelyan

I was tagged by the amazing @schoute, thank you so much! <3

The rules: Answer the following questions as your OC of choice.

I chose Avenia because I feel Delia gets all the attention with the memes :’)

For the sake of this thing please pretend that Avenia and Cullen are on their way towards Skyhold in the middle of winter and it’s set in the healing touches AU.

1. What’s your name?

*Glances at the Commander,*

“Um... Avenia. Just Avenia.”

2. Do you know why you are named that?

“Well, I have three brothers and they all have names beginning with an M: Maxwell, Marcus and Martyn. My mother wanted her only daughter to have something different.”

*She shrugs.*

“My father wanted to call me Maddalena.”

3. Are you single or taken?

“Everywhere I go disaster follows, so I might say we’re in a close relationship. But seriously, everybody I knew is dead.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

*She leans closer and whispers,*

“We should not talk about this near him,” *she points a finger behind her at the Commander.* “He’s very uncomfortable when the word MAGIC falls out of someone’s mouth.”

*Cullen jumps as she nearly shouts that one cursed word. He looks at her and frowns, disappointed.*

“Okay, okay. I’m a mage. This should be enough.”

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

“I don’t know her.”

6. What’s your eye color?

“Come closer and tell me what you see. Is it red? No? Good. It will be very soon.”

7. How about your hair color?

“Don’t you have eyes?” *Sigh* “Red.”

8. Have any family members?

“Well I already told you I have parents and three brothers so yes. Quite a lot of family members. And don’t let me get started about my uncle Gregor, the black sheep of the family or my aunt who married an Orlesian marquis and now uses his sovereigns to buy her nugs tiny little dresses.”

9. Oh? How about any pets?

“Sadly the Circle didn’t allowed pets and after my escape I was too busy to have one. But I wanted to own a horse in all my life. My family is quite fond of horses, you know?”

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

“Ah... The cold? Oh and Red Templars! Or Templars in general.”

*She looks at the Commander and he arches an eyebrow curiously.*

“Templars with one or two exceptions.”

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

“I like wine. Is drinking considered a hobby?”

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

*Looks at blood-stained skirt.*

“Uh I did but I didn’t want to!”

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

“Does self defense count?”

14. What kind of animal are you?

“The Commander says I snore like a dragon. I hope he’s lying but being an actual dragon would be amazing.”

*The Commander smirks a little behind her.*

15. Name your worst habits?

“Accidentally setting people on fire. And touching my hair all the time.”

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

“I’m traveling with him for two weeks now. “

*She points a finger at the Commander behind her.*

“He’s quite tall.”

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

“I had quite some adventures in the Circle, if you know what I mean.”

*She winks and the Commander lets out a loud sigh.*

“Bisexual.”

18. Do you go to school?

“Well, I did if the Circle counts but running from Templars don’t allow much time to study nowadays.”

19. Ever want to marry and have any kids one day?

“I’m an apostate. I have maybe two percent chance to live through the year. But maybe one day, maybe when the world changes.”

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

“Oh, definitely!” *She turns towards Cullen with a wide grin.* “He can’t take his eyes off of me.”

*Cullen groans.*

21. What are you most afraid of?

*She looks at the Commander, at his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. She closes her eyes for a moment and exhales.*

“Um... spiders?”

22. What do you usually wear?

*Shrugs and opens her arms, looking down at herself.* “These rags. Oh and silk Orlesian panties.”

*The Commander’s cheeks turn into a lovely shade of dark pink. She smirks.*

23. What one food tempts you?

“We’ve been living on dried meat and salted fish for weeks. I could eat anything properly cooked.”

24. Am I annoying you?

“Not at all.” *She lowers her voice so the Commander can’t hear her.* “But I think he doesn’t like you. Don’t worry, he doesn’t like me either.”

25. Well, it’s still not over!

“Then we should send him to collect firewood.”

*Cullen frowns again and crosses his arms in front of his chest.* “I prefer keeping an eye on you all the time.”

“Okay, he’s right. When I wasn’t with him he almost died. Twice.”

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

“Uh, apostate?”

27. How many friends do you have?

*She turns around, stops for a moment to look at Cullen and then turns back.*

“I have many!” *She clears her throat.*

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

“Do you have some? Give me all of it, I’m starving!”

29. Favourite drink?

“Any Vint I can afford.”

30. What’s your favourite place?

“Ostwick’s Circle had a huge library. It was perfect for studying and doing other activities in the dimly lit corners behind the shelves.”

31. Are you interested in anyone?

*Her eyes quickly flick at the Commander and back. Then again.*

“No, my type is definitely not blond, hazel eyed and starving for redemption.” *Coughs nervously.*

*Cullen’s ears turn even more pink.*

32. That was a stupid question…

“Yeah, please give me the next one!”

*Now she’s flushed, too and fans herself with her hand, despite the cold wind.*

33. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

“Once I fell into the ocean from a ship and I didn’t like it. So I guess swimming in a lake.”

*Cullen chuckles behind her.*

34. What’s your type?

“Type of what? Romantic interest? Well, it’s not him if you wonder. Definitely not him. Or anyone looking similar like him. You know what, next question!” *She points a finger behind her and looks down, face read as her hair.*

35. Any fetishes?

*Cullen coughs like he’s choking on his own saliva.*

“Are you serious?” *She sighs.* “I’m not answering this.”

36. Camping indoors or outdoors?

“Does this forest looks like some fancy Orlesian castle? No. So camping outdoors it is.”

_____________

Tagging: @magpiesandmabari, @gingerbreton, @a-shakespearean-in-paris, @dickeybbqpit, @laurelsofhighever

#dragon age #da:i #cullen rutherford #avenia trevelyan #cullen x avenia #oc interview #all the memes #oc meme #my art #my ocs #healing touches au #Your Healing Touches #this was fun :D #it took me a whole week to answer every question #bc lack of time #but hey #i made some art too

35 notes · View notes

unofferable-fic · 5 years

Text

The Flower & The Serpent (Arthur Morgan x OFC)

Chapter 1 - Orphans from the East

Summary: In the early 1890s, the Van der Linde Gang were truly at their finest. Experts at stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, they've made a name for themselves across the West. Two of their newest recruits, a pair of rebellious Irish siblings with an unknown past, slowly find their footing and settle into their new lives as outlaws. And yet, as they grow older, threats from all sides begin to appear. A strained relationship with Colm O'Driscoll spells disaster for the gang, and no matter how far they roam across America, the world continues to change around them. If they want to survive, difficult choices must be made. No one is as they seem and the impending arrival of law and order threatens to tear the siblings, and everything they hold dear, apart. Is it too late for anyone to find a happy ending?

Originally posted by loga-boga

————

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OFC

Warnings: Language, violence.

Word Count: 4,699

Next Chapter

Playlist: “Red Dead Redemption 2 Trailer Theme” — L’Orchestra Cinematique, “Blessed Are The Peacemakers” — Woody Jackson, “Old Dog” — The Scratch

————

A/N: Also available on AO3. So I've been obsessing over the Red Dead series since December and decided to finally bite the bullet and write a fic about my favourite cowboys and gals. That being said, this bad boy is the result of smashing heads together with a friend of mine, who is also a writer and contributing just as much to the narrative and characters. So this is essentially a mutual creation of ours and we hope y'all enjoy some western shenanigans with some Irish patriotism sprinkled on top. This is my first attempt at anything Red Dead related, so hopefully it isn't a steaming pile of trash! Any thoughts at all, comments are always welcome.

“What the hell is this?”

Arthur Morgan had found himself in many sticky situations in his short life, but standing with his revolver pointed at a pair of kids was definitely a new one.

Well, they were pointing their own guns right back at him, so it wasn’t exactly a situation that required basic manners.

“Looks like they got to our take first,” Dutch replied in disbelief from his spot between the two parties. Their agitated mounts continuously shuffled on their hooves, neighing restlessly as each rider did their best to focus on the newest threat before them. “Hold on a minute there, son—”

“Who are you lot?” the young boy demanded, with his revolver currently pointed directly at Dutch. Behind him, a girl had just finished shoving the much sought after contents of the stagecoach lockbox into a large bag. In her other hand was a gun pointed directly between Arthur’s eyes.

“You best drop that gun, you little shit!” a very wound up John Marston ordered. “Before I put a bullet in your head!”

The girl swiftly pointed her gun towards John, the threat apparently cutting deep. Despite her slight frame and obvious youth, her voice sounded confident from beneath her bandana. “Try it, greasy! I’ll take great pleasure in riddlin’ your fuck-ugly face!”

Of course, John was never one for staying calm. “You ain’t in charge here, little missy!”

“Marston!” Arthur cut in, seeing things spiralling quickly if they didn’t do something. His furrowed brow was already covered in sweat beneath his hat. “Shut your damn mouth and take it easy!”

“No one needs to die here,” Hosea added, his voice surprisingly calm despite their current predicament. “We all need to relax.”

Dutch agreed and tried to take control of the situation as he always did. “My good friend here is right. How about lowerin’ your guns, fellers, and we can talk this out.”

The boy’s eyes flared on his mostly hidden face. “How about you get your monkeys to lower theirs first!”

While the insult barely fazed Arthur, John was a little more sensitive. “Shut your damn mouth!”

Well Jesus, this couldn’t possibly end well…

* * *

8th June, 1890, outside Waukesha, Wisconsin

Today is the day. Dutch wants me and Marston to scout out the road before the stagecoach comes through later this evening. It’ll be the kid’s first real try at a robbery like this, so Dutch thinks getting familiar with the area might help settle his nerves a little… I was against it at first, but he said we need the extra man if we’re going to deal with the Pinkerton escort afterwards.

As long as he keeps a cool head he should be fine, but he’s still not one for taking orders very well, even if he’s been with us for five years. Still young, dumb as shit, and eager to prove himself. I’m hoping he learns to listen though — Lord knows I’d hate to see anything happen to him.

* * *

“Grub’s up, folks! Grub’s up!”

Arthur closed over his journal at Pearson’s call. Glancing up to see the cook placing a steaming pot of stew over the fire, he returned the book to its spot on his bedside table. Morning had swiftly arrived at the camp, and most of the inhabitants were up and about already, attending to the many chores that needed doing. It was a clear and sunny day, with only a few fluffy white clouds littering the blue sky. The heat was somewhat intense despite the early hour and brought a light sheen of sweat to his forehead. This camp had been their home for some weeks now, and Arthur really didn’t mind. He quite liked it out here — he always preferred the open plains to dense cities. The cosy field where they now resided was situated on the bank of a river outside a small city called Waukesha. The surrounding lowlands were flat, open, and easy to traverse, but the gang was safely hidden from the nearest trail by a thick group of green trees. Though the region was home to some of Wisconsin’s largest cities, most of it was made up of farmland, so it was relatively easy for them to remain here without being noticed. He really hoped they could stay in these vast fields for some time. He could get used to travelling across the stretching green pastures atop Boadicea, and the first breath of fresh air he inhaled every morning bought a genuine smile to his face.

Arthur’s eyes flitted over the lightly dancing trees on the camp’s outskirts before looking to what had originally grabbed his attention. Though Pearson’s food was in dire need of some seasoning, his stomach rumbled at the prospects of a hot meal. He got to his feet, wiping some of his unruly hair out of his eyes, and went to get his share.

“Mornin’, Mr Morgan,” Susan greeted him as she grabbed a cup of coffee.

“Miss Grimshaw,” he replied with a nod, helping himself to a large bowl of stew. “Mornin’.”

She took a seat on one of the nearby tables and urged him to join her.

With a shrug, he took a seat and set his bowl down. “Coffee good?”

“As always,” she said. “As long as it calms my nerves it’ll do.”

“What do you have to be nervous about?” he asked before taking a mouthful of stew and ignoring the mild bland taste.

“I seem to be more concerned with this stagecoach than you are!”

“You concerned about the coach, or the fact Marston will be near the coach?”

“He can be a headstrong little brat at times, but I’d rather not see him with a hole in his head.”

Miss Grimshaw shook her head in exasperation, but the gesture only brought a smirk to Arthur’s lips. She could be quite a harsh woman, especially when people lounged around and didn’t do their part in keeping everything running smoothly. Despite being the current flame of the ever flirtatious Dutch van der Linde, Susan Grimshaw refused to sit idly by and act like the lady of the manor. She was very much involved in ensuring that the camp remained a functioning unit. She was perfect for the role, probably because she could be positively terrifying if you didn’t help out.

“I’ll admit,” Arthur began, swallowing some food. “I wasn’t exactly happy ’bout the idea at first, but Dutch has faith in the little brat. And besides, he’s got me, Dutch, and Hosea lookin’ out for him. He’ll be fine as long as he does what we say.”

Susan eyed him carefully, but nodded, seemingly happy with his words. “As long as you do look out for him, Mr Morgan. You know how he can be — he reminds me a lot of you at that age.”

“Hey now! Don’t go comparin’ me to that fool—”

Miss Grimshaw cut across him with ease. “It is the reason you two get on so well, what with bein’ such like-minded individuals…”

Arthur finished his breakfast while she reeled off the many reasons why he and John were one and the same. Sometimes it as best just to keep his mouth shut, and this seemed like one such moment. His saving grace came when Dutch called him over to his tent.

“Mornin’, Dutch.”

“And a fine morning it is, son,” he replied with gusto and set down the book he had been reading. He offered Arthur a cigarette before taking one for himself. He lit the two, then continued on. “Hosea and Bessie took young John into town to get some supplies for tonight.”

“How’s he seem?” Arthur asked and took a drag.

“John? Seems fine to me. Maybe a little… let’s say, eager, to get goin’.”

“Still got faith in him?”

“O’course,” Dutch said, his voice firm. “We all gotta start somewhere, Arthur, you know that. He’s seventeen now, so it ain’t a bad age to get goin’. Heck, you did it even younger.”

He knew Dutch was right — there was no point letting John fester around camp doing nothing. They definitely didn’t need a second Uncle around the place, and Marston seemed keen to please… Or maybe he was just passionate about shooting something, who knew? It seemed that Dutch did though, and if there was someone whose opinion mattered, it was Dutch.

Arthur kept busy around the camp doing numerous chores while he waited for the trio to return. Chopping firewood and helping Pearson prepare their dinner for later at least meant that time flew by for him. He was playing fetch with Copper when John finally returned with Hosea and Bessie in tow. While the older couple went to check in with Dutch, Arthur and John mounted their horses and, with Copper running along side them, headed out down the road to the spot where they intended to rob the stagecoach.

“Why are we robbin’ it at this spot exactly?” Marston asked, scanning his eyes over the strip of dirt road.

“It’s the best distance outside town where a robbery won’t attract any attention,” Arthur explained, gently patting Boadicea. “The stagecoach is carryin’ bank transfers into Milwaukee, so you can bet that robbin�� it close to town would bring a whole heap of law on us. See that turn there?” He pointed off in the distance, tipping the brim of his hat to keep the shimmering sunlight out of his eyes. “It’s gonna come down that road there and loop this way. We’ll be waitin’ on this here ridge and hidden in some of the trees so that they don’t spot us.”

“What about them?” the younger boy asked. “They got any guns?”

“Four in total, if Hosea’s intel is right. So we should be able to take ’em out with the four of us. They’ll have a backup escort comin’ in from there, though.” He pointed up the road in the opposite direction. “’The bank in Milwaukee will be sendin’ out some of their own guns to meet the stagecoach just a little ways up the road, considerin’ this lil strip is so deserted. So we’re expectin’ maybe four more guns to show, which is why Dutch wants you involved. Once we rob the coach and the extra men arrive, there’ll be enough of us to take ’em out if needs be.”

“Sounds dangerous,” John mused, hanging on his every word.

Arthur let out a chuckle and proceeded to light himself a cigarette. “What, you scared, boy?”

“No! I ain’t scared, just bein’ honest about things.”

“You’ll do just fine,” the older man reassured him and offered him a cigarette. “You just need’a keep a cool head, and do as Dutch says. That’s how we make sure things go smoothly.” He paused to take a drag. “You ain’t got nothin’ to worry about if you do that.”

John nodded and puffed away to calm his nerves. “Thanks. I’m just glad that you’ll have my back, brother.”

“That’s what family is for,” Arthur responded with a small grin. He watched Copper as the dog sniffed along the roadside. “You’ll be fine.”

The two of them remained there for a few moments more as Arthur went over their plan of action in more detail. Though he knew how John could be, he was glad to see that he was eager to get to work. He hoped this wouldn’t make him over excited when the time came, but he thought back on what Dutch had said — he needed to put faith in his brother to do the job right. Thankfully, Marston had yet to give him a reason to doubt him so aggressively.

They returned to camp and waited out the rest of the day going over their plan with Hosea and Dutch. They had everything planned perfectly — it had to be, otherwise they could find themselves in a sticky situation once the Pinkerton escort arrived. Regardless, spirits were high at dinner time when Arthur, Dutch, Hosea, and young John mounted up and headed out to rob the stagecoach. They road through the fields in the late evening sun, avoiding the main road so that they wouldn’t be spotted ahead of time. The familiar buzz that came with performing robberies and the like was already stirring within Arthur’s chest. It was always risky business, but a part of him loved the thrill and feeling of power that came with these takes. Knowing that the money would be given to those who needed it most also gave him a nice sense of self-worth — it was one of the only things in his life that made him feel that way. He wasn’t a good man by any means, but he still tried to do some small bit of good where he could.

“And here we are,” Dutch announced from atop his horse as the group arrived at the waiting spot. He glanced at his pocket watch and nodded. “Right on time. Does everyone remember the plan?”

“O’course,” Arthur confirmed.

“Good. Now, cover your faces; we won’t be waitin’ too long for the stage to swing by.”

Arthur quickly pulled his bandana up to cover his mouth and nose and double-checked that his guns were fully loaded and ready to be used if things took a turn.

“Remember, gentlemen,” Dutch continued on. “No killing unless absolutely necessary.”

“Best of luck, everyone,” Hosea added.

Then the group descended into silence and waited.

And waited.

Arthur’s fingers flexed on his reigns. He could see John beginning to get anxious. Something definitely wasn’t right.

The only noise they could hear was the light breeze on the leaves above their heads, and the persistent ticking of Dutch’s pocket watch as he checked the time again.

“Somethin’ ain’t right,” Hosea whispered, mimicking Arthur’s own concerns. “They should have come through here by now.”

“Maybe you got the times wrong?” John suggested. “Or the place?”

Arthur shook his head. “That ain’t it. We heard from multiple people and all of them said it would come through this road at this time.”

“So what do we do then?”

“Well,” Dutch sighed, somewhat vexed with the development. He pulled down his bandana and turned to the rest of them. “We can’t stay here and wait for it to possibly arrive. I suggest we head up road and see do we come across it. But we stay out of sight and appear as inconspicuous as we can until I say otherwise.”

Hosea nodded and uncovered his face. “I agree. It’s definitely a better idea than waitin’ here and hopin’ for the best.”

“In that case, follow me, gentlemen.”

Arthur followed as the group made their way through the fields adjacent to the strip of road. They kept an eye out, but met no one along the way, and their anxiety only grew with each passing second. This was some take according to the locals, so missing it would be a great loss to the gang.

“Up ahead!” Dutch suddenly announced in a hushed tone.

Arthur looked up to see a stagecoach in the distance, stationary on the road. “Why’s it stopped?”

“Because,” Dutch growled out. “It’s bein’ robbed.”

“It’s what?”

“Somebody beat us to it! C’mon!”

Right well, this certainly wasn’t an outcome for which the gang was prepared. Arthur hastily followed Dutch’s lead as their horses galloped up to the precious stage. He strained his eyes to get a look at who had intercepted the take before they even had a chance. The closer he got, the more information became apparent to him — two figures crowded the rear of the coach, one of whom was emptying its contents into a bag. The other stood by guarding her every move. The drivers and guards were nowhere to be found. At first, Arthur just assumed that the figures were small because of their position in the distance, but the closer he got, the more he realised that this was no normal robbery.

“It’s a pair of kids!” John exclaimed, disgust evident in his tone. “We got beaten to it by some damn kids!”

“Kids?” Arthur repeated in disbelief.

With the noise of their arrival, the pair of young thieves looked up from their prize to see four men thundering towards them on horseback. They were clothed in dirty outfits with bandanas hiding their identities. A quick once over told Arthur that it was boy and a girl who had managed to rob an obscene amount of money from the stage. How in the hell had two kids manage that?

Perhaps riding directly to them hadn’t been the best idea, as the pair were quick to point their guns at the gang.

“Hold on there!” Dutch called, grinding his mount to a halt and holding up his hands. The trio behind him followed suit, but Arthur and John instead chose to aim a weapon at each of them just in case.

“What the hell is this?” Arthur asked, completely dumbfounded with the situation they found themselves in.

“Cé hiad na leaids sin?” the girl asked her companion.

“The fuck you say?” John demanded, already losing his temper.

“Who are you lot?” the boy demanded, his eyes very skeptical already and completely unfazed by this strange man’s apparent aggression.

And now here they were — facing off against a pair of kids on a quiet dirt road. Sometimes Arthur really got tired of this shit.

“How about you get your monkeys to lower theirs first!”

“Take it easy, son,” Dutch answered calmly with his hands still raised. “We mean you no harm.”

“Your friends with the guns there don’t give us much comfort,” the girl replied in a thick Irish accent. “Now do as he said and get them to lower their weapons!”

“If you give me your word that you won’t shoot ’em, I will.”

“Is that a good idea?” Arthur asked, not exactly enjoying pointing his gun at a kid, but also not liking the idea of being defenceless.

“Trust me, Arthur. You and John, put the guns away.”

Arthur released a heavy sigh, but listened to his mentor and returned his gun to its holster. “Goddammit…”

John obliged, though he was far more hesitant to listen. A stern look from Hosea got the point across.

“Now,” Dutch announced. “We did as you asked. How about you meet us halfway and lower yours?”

The pair exchanged a knowing look before slowly lowering their revolvers, but not putting them away. The boy called out to them again. “Now, as I was sayin’, who are you lot and what do you want?”

“No harm in bein’ honest. We were the ones plannin’ on gettin’ that coach, but it seems like you beat us to it.”

“Not our problem,” the girl replied. “We got to it first, so you’s aren’t gettin’ any of it.”

Dutch shook his head. “We ain’t gonna steal it from you. You two earned it, fair and square. I don’t quite know how you managed it, but I’d be lyin’ if I said I wasn’t impressed.”

“We’re used to bumping into rival gangs every now and then,” Hosea added with a goodnatured chuckle. “But not so used to seein’ kids out on jobs.”

“Yeah, well,” the girl grumbled. “You gotta get by somehow when you’ve nothin’ else.”

“Of course!” Dutch agreed. “We ain’t here to judge.”

As they spoke, Arthur briefly turned his head as the sound of horses grabbed his attention. He looked back down the road from where they came, and suddenly remembered an important detail of the plan. “Awh, shit. We got company!”

“Wait, what?” the boy asked, looking baffled. “What’s goin’ on?”

“The Pinkertons!” Hosea confirmed just as the escort appeared at the end of the trail. “How many we got, Arthur?”

“I see six comin’ in!” he confirmed, looking through his binoculars at the patrol heading down the road.

“That’s more than expected!” John commented in dismay.

“Pinkertons?” the young girl repeated. “What Pinkertons?”

“An escort sent to meet the stagecoach,” Dutch elaborated. “I assume by your confused expressions that you two didn’t know about that part.”

“Jaysus Christ,” the boy muttered and drew a carbine from his back. “No, we didn’t.”

“Well then I think your best odds are to come with us, or you can stay here and try to fight off six guns.”

The kids shared a look again before the girl spoke first in a language that Arthur didn’t understand. “Cad a dhéanfaimid anois?”

The boy shook his and gave her hand a squeeze. “Níl an dara rogha againn. Let’s get outta here.”

“You got horses?”

“No,” the girl explained. “We came on foot.”

“Well then, you hop up here with me, son, and your partner can jump on with my friend, Mr Morgan, there.”

The boy took Dutch’s outstretched hand and hauled himself on to the back of the horse, while Arthur offered the girl a hand and helped to pull her up behind him. “Hold on tight now, you hear?”

“I’ll be grand,” she replied, though he could hear the hint of fear in her voice. “Just move.”

Just as shouts and some shots rang out from the arriving escort, the gang sped off and through a nearby bunch of trees in an effort to lose their pursuers. Arthur felt the young girl hold on to his shoulders tightly as he pushed Boadicea as hard as she could go. The noise of the horses thundering along and jumping over bushes and fences was one that he knew well, and one that was always accompanied by a small amount of worry and excitement. He could hear John and Hosea urging their mounts forwards, realising how risky it was being out in the open like this. The head start thankfully gave them a decent advantage over the Pinkertons as they spend through the Wisconsin fields. Unfortunately, despite the distance between them and the men chasing them, the Pinkertons persisted and were hard to lose.

“They’re still on us,” the girl shouted from behind him. “You’s need to do somethin’!”

“I know,” Arthur answered, breathing in deep. “Just lemme think.”

“What about those trees?” William called, pointing to the outskirts of a bunch of greenery just in front of them.

Right on queue, bullets whizzed over their heads, some a mile off and others unnervingly close.

Arthur let out a huff and ducked his head down as one very nearly got him. “Keep your head down, girl! We’re sittin’ ducks out in the open like this!”

“We can lose them in there!” Dutch confirmed. “We just need to make it past the tree line.”

Behind them, the rate of gunfire began to increase the closer they got to the safety of the trees. The escort clearly knew that they’d lose them amidst the thick foliage. Thankfully, the trees drew closer and closer and their bullets managed to miss their targets as they shifted side to side to throw them off. Arthur breathed a sigh of relief as they breached the tree line and slowed to navigate between the brush. He felt the girl’s grip on his frame ease up a little with their new cover and he gave her a swift glance to see how she was holding up.

Dutch called out orders to once more grab their attention. “Everyone, veer left and follow me!”

They manoeuvred carefully between the tall trees and bushes, keeping a careful eye out behind them incase the escort appeared on their tail once more. Thankfully, as they weaved to and fro between the shrubbery, the Pinkertons weren’t seen again. When they finally broke through the edge of the forest and reappeared in an open field, the sun had just about set on the distance and the threat seemed to have been lost.

The horses were eased to a halt and Arthur placed a loving pat on trusty Boadicea’s neck. “You did good, girl.”

“Everyone alright?” Hosea asked the group. The responses he received were unanimously positive though out of breath.

“That certainly could’ve gone worse,” the boy mused as he jumped from The Count. Seeing no danger around, he pulled his bandana back down to reveal his youthful face. Arthur was surprised to see just how young he was — he looked to be about the same age as he was when he first joined the gang. Despite this, he looked like he was sleeping rough, with a dirty face and a fresh red scar that ran over his right brow and down his cheek. “But at least nobody got shot.”

Arthur noticed the girl dismounting to join her companion and she too pulled off her mask. She seemed just as young as him and showed signs of dirt and older scars. Immediately she went to the boy’s side and gave him a once over. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” he said with a small smile and let out a huff as he got his breath back. “I’m grand. Are you?”

“Yeah. Thankfully these lads are good riders.”

She wiped her brow and reached back to tie her messy brown hair out of her face as Dutch addressed them. “I thought you two did pretty good out there, considerin’ you managed that stage all on your own.”

“Yeah, bar the squad that we weren’t even remotely prepared for showin’ up,” the girl replied with a pained smile. She looked up at Dutch and gave him a thankful nod. “We definitely would’a been captured or worse if it wasn’t for you lot.”

“Outlaws gotta stick together in times like these,” he said calmly. “We’re livin’ in different times, and we’re just tryin’ to survive.”

The boy nodded in agreement and then shared a look with the girl. “We appreciate the help Mister, uh…”

“Van der Linde,” Dutch replied and reached out to shake their hands. “Dutch van der Linde. These are my friends, Hosea Matthews, Arthur Morgan, and young John Marston.”

“I’m Maebh Hennigan,” the girl replied. “And this is my brother, William.”

“A pleasure. Can I ask, is it just the two of you? No parents or family around?”

Maebh flinched slightly at the question. “Uh, yeah. Our parents died a while back and the rest of our family is back in Ireland. We have nothin’, so we have to rob sometimes to get by. But that doesn’t matter, we owe you’s a lot for this. I suppose it's only fair that we give you’s a bit of the money from the stage.”

Dutch grinned at her suggestion and Arthur recognised that look almost immediately. He could already see his leader’s mind coming up with his next plan of action. Based on everything that happened today, he thought he had an idea of what it might be. “That’s a very kind offer, Miss Hennigan, but I actually have an offer for you.”

Maebh and William met each others gaze before the latter sceptically asked. “You have an offer for us?”

“As I already said, outlaws have to stick together if we want to get by out here. It’s the best way to ensure that we survive, that we live.”

Dutch was descending into a classic rousing speech with which Arthur and the group were quite familiar. He had heard it many times himself when he needed a bit of self belief in what they were doing. The most notable time he heard it was when he first met Dutch and Hosea as an unruly fifteen year old with nowhere to go and no one to turn to. Yes, this was certainly an encounter with which he had some personal experience.

Atop The Count, Dutch stretched out his arms in a welcoming gesture and grinned from ear to ear. “If we want to live like Americans, then we got to have each others backs, no matter how tough or worrisome things may be. You need a family, you need stability, you need to know that you are safe. But I think that today is a sign of what you both could have.” He paused and Maebh and William hung on every word. “My offer to you two, is how’d you like to join my gang?”

#red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #john marston #red dead redemption fandom #rdr #rdr2 #fanfiction #fanfic #arthur morgan fanfic #the flower and the serpent #dutch van der linde #hosea mathews #rdr fanfiction #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan x ofc

5 notes · View notes

itwill-comeback · 5 years

Text

Some things to note

Alright, so this is my work's blog, a side blog inside a bog, don't mind me. Nickname's Casper or Cas for now. I'm 20, a Capricorn, a decent writer, huge Hozier fan. This is where I'll be putting the stuff that I write as well as on AO3 which to be fair, I'm not as good at using since I just started using it.

About my writing:

I'm an absolute mess of a writer, zero update consistency, sorry. No editor, unless you count Grammarly. I'll probably only ever post my COVT works here and AO3 so there's that.

× I love the COVT just the way it is, but I crave some new things in it. In my writing you'll probably find the following

× Vlad not being bad at like everything, boy needs some skills and hobbies dang it!

× Vlad having motivations and in some way resembling his father when that motivation is what's driving his decisions, don't worry he won't become his old man, but lord outside of physically resembling Tomas he needs to have some of his traits.

× You don't know where we are canonically in my works? Join the club babes. Call it an AU or post-canon if it makes you feel better cause I'm just writing for the fuck of it, and you're in my candy cottage now kids.

× Vlad has ADHD canonically I'm almost certain, so don't be surprised if it's in my works. He's on adderall and Henry reminds him often to take his medication so he's not the Big Forgetful.

× Vlad is willing to flex on people about being the Pravus because he's aware it tricks vampires out and he finds that funny.

× Henry has an Attitude™ and does Not tolerate shit from vampires. Thank those Slayer Genetics.

× Vlad schemes. No context just,, be aware.

× Dorian is ostracized in Elysia, but he's not actually that creepy, people just really don't like that he's powerful and has a penchant for playing the Cheshire Cat. Cryptic soft boi with a grin that claims madness, promise he's just lonely.

× Vlad is far less awkward in my writing, he's clued in to social and psychological influences.

× D'Ablo has gotten a fucking redemption arc. Will I write it? Unlikely. (I did) But you see in my head canon he's faced off with Tomas and Vikas, and being the incredibly hard to kill bastard that he is, got out of it alive despite their best attempts to be rid of him. Pravus blood will take you so far. He lied low, got bored, came back to Stokerton and basically told Vlad "You're the Pravus, we been knew, want my job back, idc bout u or ur uncle or the Elder Council, like being President tho so tell Otis to scoot." And Vlad was like "yeah sure, Otis wants to go back to being principal anyway & the Elder Council doesn't take up near as much time as the Stokerton Council cause it hardly ever convenes, don't fuck wit me again, my dad's dead btw, oh and Vikas too. Let's just be chill." And that was that.

× Vlad has vampire friends and empathizes with other orphans. Not far fetched. Like at all.

× Vlad has a few jobs, gets that bread... for a college aged kid at least.

× Did I say bread? D'Ablo is rich af. Stunts on everybody in Armani suits and wears Red Bottoms. He's the President of a Council, you know that job pays. Old rich Italian vampire rolls in mad cash and has taste, surprise surprise ?

× Know who else is an old rich Italian vampire? Dorian Ciotti, his family uses stocks and real estate as monopoly money. And you thought they were just a humble family with a small business, jokes on you they haven't been humble for hundreds of years. Dorian is known to travel all the time, where did y'all think he got the money for that? You better believe he spoils Cecile, she's his baby girl. A rich single dad who thinks he might fuck up at any moment, he's doing great at raising her. Your fav could never.

× Elysian Councils are mostly afraid and indignant towards Vlad, but don't worry, he can see through them quite well at this point. (Read: he was raised by Tomas fucking Tod, the king of liars, other vampires don't have shit on him.)

× Elysia is not entirely the Councils, Elysia is a world of vampires full of pocket communities and niche tribes all tied by the same undead thread.

× Otis and Vlad share the issue of having a terrible sweet tooth, and now that Nelly's gone they have to figure out how to bake for themselves. Also blood candy and blood mixed baked goods exist and Vlad is really wanting to try some.

× Vlad has the most powerful weapon against vampires on him at all times now, is curious to find out how it works and what it runs on. Elysia knows he doesn't leave it anywhere, if he's somewhere the Lucius is there with him.

× I will be inventing a few of my own charms (like the tego charm) with latin words so you can always ask Google what the charm does before I tell you. (I.e. Tego = to cloak, to hide. This charm is used to allow the vampire who creates it to have a lock down on any humans they place it near.) Tomas places these around the citizens of Bathory to keep other vampires from reading their minds and discovering his location, he closes their minds in a way.

× Vlad has more complex hidy-holes for his things these days.

× Remember that key in the first book that looked like head of a woman that was described in detail and then left behind and never mentioned again? Remember it. I'm gonna use it. Red herring? Who?

× Henry has not forgotten the time he saved Otis' life. He's gonna call in that favor someday, Otis, you know he will.

× Otis has a lot more faith in Vlad to not act like a child and will treat him like an adult.

× Vlad has a huge crush on somebody. Not saying who.

× Vlad's a big hippie. On god, he loves the earth, hates conflict, and wants to tell D'Ablo about how many slave children worked to create his outfit, but wants to keep their peace more.

× Vlad has at long last, filled out and isn't the lanky child he once was, could throw you through a wall but is probably too nice for that. Probably.

× Vlad and the Pravus are separate entities sharing the same vessel. Pravus isn't a ghost though, he's the Adam of the vampire species and died a long ass time ago and wanted to live again after a while. Much like D'Ablo, he lied low, got bored and wanted his place in the world back. Had to create a new form of life to exist in, created the vessel (Vlad's body), could've gotten rid of Vlad's soul and just worn his body, but kind of ended up adoring him before he was even born and, entranced with the concept of this new existence, decided to share the body with him, which sort of forces him to stay hidden in Vlad's subconscious or divide their body into two bodies. Which he can totally do, but it's kind of a lot of trouble and would hurt Vlad badly so he doesn't bother. He really adores this dumb kid and doesn't want him to be lonely, but that'll present its own issues in its own time.

× Dorian is aware of all of this. Pravus can fix his mind and his cravings for vampire blood, but he can't force this from the two of them because it would kind of fuck Vlad up. Oh you mean that fox in the back of my mind isn't my mental support animal, it's an ancient vampire and kind of absurdly powerful? Cool cool.

× Eddie Poe becomes a bigger problem than ever before! Fun!!

× The Slayer Society becomes a bigger problem than ever before!

× As far as I'm concerned, Em is not being manipulated by D'Ablo in the books, he answers to her, she's autographed bible old, you think he could pull one over on her? Tomas Tod couldn't even manage that. (Canonically I know Vlad insinuates that D'Ablo is holding some power over Em but I just can't see that realistically being true.)

× Em went home to Europe after that Slayer cleanse nonsense, she's still President of her Council, but she is no longer on the Council of Elders. Kind of in hiding because she suspects Vlad's about to take over the entire world.

× D'Ablo's cult is still a thing, they send Vlad gifts sometimes. Sometimes it's a dead bird, sometimes it's an envelope full of cash. D'Ablo doesn't care either way what they give him, Vlad prays it's not a dead animal every time tho soo.

× Remember how Mellina was never said to have any family? Turns out her family were just religious nutcases and promptly disowned her (and her child) upon finding out she was having a child out of wedlock.

× Vlad is in touch with the Tod clan in Scotland cause he wanted to get in touch with some part of his family and prove to himself that his dad's side isn't all bad, they kind of give him Evil Dad War Flashbacks™, but they're good people. A few are vampires and they think Vlad's a cool kid.

× There's always gonna be magic in my writing, don't worry though, I'm not gonna make Vlad OP.

#if i think of more i'll add them #it's two in the morning #haven't slept #the chronicles of vladimir tod #chronicles of vladimir tod #vladimir tod #henry mcmillan #otis otis #d'ablo #elysia #writing #covt #:: i'm something else when i see you (about me)#:: lighting off the blaze (headcanon)

30 notes · View notes

missblissy · 5 years

Text

Title: The Little Things Fandom: Red Dead Redemption Genre: fanfic, reader insert, cute, fluff, one-shot Characters: Arthur Morgan, Arthur Morgan x Reader, Reader, Van der Linde Gang

Follow me on AO3!! Read it there too!

Description:

“We heard a rumor,” Sadie grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to sit down between her and Abigal. God, now you were trapped. What on earth could they have to say?

“Yeah?”

“Mhm!” Abigal grabbed your hand and held it tightly between her own, “Is it true? You and Arthur?”

________________________________________________________________Like every morning, your tent was empty with a warm breeze drifting through it. Lemoyne county was indeed hot. But with camp set up right alongside the lake, it was a little cooler than the rest of the southern county. You sat up in your bed and took the time to rub the sleep out of your eyes.

Your tent was cute and similar to John’s. It was an actual tent. White and with room for a little table at the side of your bed and several boxes filled with your things. No one could see inside as well, which gave you the comfort of privacy.

After several yawns and stretches, you looked over to your bedside table. A sleepy smile crawled onto your face. There sat a single flower. It was a honeysuckle flower sitting there on your table. You picked it up and brought it to your knows, thinking that you knew that book would come in handy.

“Bonds of love,” You whispered. Every morning Arthur would leave a flower for you, letting you know how much he moved you. The poor cowboy could write all his feeling in his journal all he wanted, but the damn man could never actually speak them. You got him a silly little book that taught him the language of flowers. It was something cute, and quiet romantic to say the least.

Tucking the flower into an empty book, you pressed it flat and put the book back on your desk. Today had started off pretty good, you wondered what else it had in store for you.

After cleaning yourself up and getting dressed, you took on the camp. Leaving your tent you walked pasts, several people. All smiling and greeting you, but Uncle stopped you on your way to get breakfast.

“H-hey! My good friend, (Y/n)! Ho-how are you!?” He had this big cheeky smile on his face as he followed you to the stew pot. You knew exactly what he wanted.

“I’m not giving you any money, old man,” You tried your best to ignore him.

This old bag of dirt must have asked everyone else in the camp before he started begging you. He seemed pretty desperate, “Please? Please, I’ll pay you back!”

You got some attitude as you slopped down a spoonful of stew, “And what the hell are you going to spend it on? Hm?” You looked Uncle in the eye and gave him a dark glare, “Booze?”

Uncle grew sheepish, then defensive, “You rotten woman,” He muttered, “Got no heart to help the elderly,” He walked off after that and left you alone.

Thank God. You took your food and went to your regular spot to eat. You did enjoy being on the lake so much, you found a rock a good few years down the beach that you’d sit on have something to eat. The sun had just finished getting over the horizon. Sunrises were better than sunsets, in your opinion. A warm breeze kept fluttering past you while crows cawed out and morning doves hooted.

You wondered, though with peace of mind, where Arthur could have been. He normally got up right before dawn when it was still dark out. He’d do his morning chores then rush off someplace out into the open world.

He didn’t leave a note this morning, meaning he’d be back before noon. You finished your breakfast and went back to camp to start your chores. You’d first have to brush, clean and feed your horse. Then you’d help Pearson for the morning dish. After that, you’d take inventory on the camp supplies and leave a list of things needed by the ledger.

Dutch always stopped you right about around then. Just like he always did, he smiled at you and asked, “Good morning, (Y/n), how are you this muggy morning?”

You didn’t look up for a few second, stuck trying to write down the numbers of supplies that the camp needed. Once you did that you slapped the ledger closed and greeted Dutch with just as big if a smile, “Mornin’ Dutch. I’m doing pretty okay today, a little better than normal. How about you?”

He closed his own book while leaving a finger snug in place on the page he was reading, “Aw you know, the same as always. I can not stand this god damn weather though,” He waved a hand around, “I don’t mind the heat. It’s the god damn muggy thickness of this swamp air.”

“We’ll get back to the desert,” You fondly remembered those years spent baking in the sun, “Or maybe that silly island you want. You know it’s muggy on islands too,”

“You ever been to one?” He raised a brow, giving you that look he gave any of his freakishly adopted children, you were one of them.

“An island? Psh... No,” You rolled your eyes, obviously, he knew that. The damn outlaw raised you since you could remember, “But I read. You read. Read a book about an island, Dutch, maybe you’ll learn you can’t grow fruit on them and there are more lizards there than in this gang,”

He made this face, then swatted you away with his hand like you were an annoying fly bothering his reading. You went back to your chores gladfully. To escape a lecture from Dutch about how the world worked was a god damn blessing.

As you got done carrying firewood to the campfire pits scattered around camp, you got waved over to Sadie and Abigal sitting at one of the pits. They were probably your closest friends here outside the awkward family you had. Hosea and Dutch as the odd couple with their three bad-tempered children, you, Arthur and John. The rest of the gang was family too, for sure, but not as close.

“Heya, (Y/n),” Abigal smiled at you wide. The look on her face made you a raise a brow in confusion. She seemed to be gushing with excitement, oddly enough so did Sadie. The looked like giggly giddy school girls honestly.

You waved a weak hand at them, “Hi... What’s up?”

“We heard a rumor,” Sadie grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you to sit down between her and Abigal. God, now you were trapped. What on earth could they have to say?

“Yeah?”

“Mhm!” Abigal grabbed your hand and held it tightly between her own, “Is it true? You and Arthur?”

Shit! Your eyes grew wide for a second but you quickly hide your surprise and put on a cool smile, “What about me and Arthur?”

“Well! That you guys are.. you know...” She trailed off, not finishing her thoughts but was implying that you knew what she was going to say.

You kept playing stupid, not saying a word. You didn’t want to admit anything she was about to insinuate. Especially if it had to do with Arthur. Truth is, nobody knew you and Arthur we a thing. You both tried your very best to keep your relationship status unknown to the gang. Simply because you knew that it would cause problems with certain members. This wasn’t some movie, it wasn’t romantic to be around thugs all the time. It wasn’t safe or even remotely pleasant to be openly together within the gang.

Arthur and you agreed to keep your feelings for each other a secret. But you never came up with a plan if they found out. You both just planned for them to never find out.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” You finally said.

Sadie saw right through your bullshit. Like the wild child she was she bluntly said loudly, “Don’t you act like we don’t see what you two have been doing!”

In fear that she would out you to the whole gang, you quickly hushed her with your hand, “Q-quiet! I... I ain’t doing a thing with Arthur, okay?”

She smacked your hand away while glaring at you, “Then why’s the both of you always looking at each other the way Bill looks at pork ribs?”

Excuse me? ”What's that even suppose to mean?”

Abigal held back a giggle and tugged on your hand, you were getting dizzy looking back and forth between these crazy women, “Hungry!” Oh my God... “You want each other!” Her voice was barely a whisper. Good God. What have you gotten yourself into? This was getting worse by the second, “And we see you two always ‘going into town’ and what not,” She made air quotes which caused Sadie to laugh.

Sadie agreed too while making you look back at her, “Mhm! You gotta tell her what John said, tell her!”

“Oh jeeze,” You mumbled under your breath. What on earth did John say? What could he know? Nothing! No one knows anything! You really wished Arthur would get back right about now. What time was it again? Was it noon yet? Who knows...

Forced to sit there, you decided to look at the ground while Abigal spoke, “John said he saw you and Arthur sneak off the other night,” Oh no... No! Your blood started to freeze, “He said something like... Something how you two went swimming! At night! Together in the lake!”

God dammit! Shit! You quickly stood up off the log you were forced to be stuck on. You had to get out of here! “Is that Hosea? Hosea!” You saw the old man and used him as the perfect bait to escape this mess.

As you ran away you heard Sadie click her tongue and said, “Deny, deny, deny, means you got something to hide,” Her silly little threatening rhyme only made you run faster.

At the same time, you made Hosea greatly confused. He was just minding his own business, making it from point A to B when you came running up to him. You nearly fell on your face in the process.

“Heeeey!!” You exclaimed out of breath and frazzled, “How’s the day treating you, Hosea?”

He was not taking your odd behavior well. And in his almighty wisdom, he shook his head, “Arthur’s not back yet, calm down,” This word’s nearly flung you into the sun.

Oooooh nooooooo. You slapped on hands into your face to hide your shame and avoid letting Hosea see how red your face got, “Where is John?” You whined from behind your palms.

Hosea sat himself down at a table and pulled out a book. He kicked his feet up and rested them on the table. Without even batting an eye he opened his book and said, “He’s taking watch outside the camp,” As you started rushing off to find John, Hosea had to add, “He’s not the one that told me!” What!?!

This only made you break into a full out sprint, “JOHN MARSTON!” You started to scream. He was somewhere in the tree line and you could see him yet but you could hear him.

“(Y/n)?”

There! He was standing a few feet off the beaten path, leaning against a large rock. When he saw you, he went as pale a ghost. Or maybe it was your threat that made him drop his gun and instantly crouch down and cover his head.

“I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!” As soon as you got near him, you threw yourself at the man and tackled him to the ground. This wasn’t the first time you had done this, and certainly not the last. Both you and John had a weird flashback to your childhood when John used to tease you and you’d beat him up for it.

John didn’t do anything but fend you off. He knew why you were here and he knew what he did. He even fit a few laughs in every time you smack his arms and flung his hat away.

“You think this is funny!?” You grabbed him by the shirt, standing above him while he was laying in the dirt, “What’s the matter with you? Why you telling lies about me and Arthur? Huh?! Who’d you tell you stupid raccoon! You trashy ugly man!”

John surely was the brother you never ever wanted in your entire life. He was quite a bit younger than you. You were closer in age to Arthur than you were with John. And John, being so young, was filled with bullshit and annoying tendencies.

“Why what on earth could you be talking about?” His toothy broken smile just made you want to smack him some more.

You made a face, twisted your arm back and got ready to punch him, but you gave him one last chance to fess up, “What. Did. You. Tell. Abigal?”

He still kept that shit eating grin on his mouth. Before he could even get a word in, you both turned your heads at the same time to the sound of horse hooves beating along the dirt.

It was quite the sight to behold. Artur had just gotten done ransacking an O’driscoll camp and he was very much ready to get back to camp in time for lunch. He was mostly looking forward to you. On the days camp was slow, and you had all the time in the world to yourselves, the two of you would go on “hunting trips” which was code for going getting the hell out of camp for some alone time. And! You guys would go hunting and bring something back for camp! So it wasn’t a total lie!

He did not expect what so ever to run into John being beaten by You. The both of you stared at him like he was a ghost or something.

“What in God’s name are you dumbasses doing?” He slowed his horse but didn’t dismount.

John threw you off him and scrambled to his feet. It was almost like he was scared to be this close to you all of a sudden as if Arthur knew the jig was up and was going to throw him in the lake to drown. But Arthur didn’t know so he just sat there on his horse waiting for an answer.

After about a minute of silence, John grabbed his forgotten gun and booked for it, “I gotta go!” He laughed, “But you two have fun now! Enjoy the privacy!”

Arthur made a face, “You gonna tell me what’s going on?” He was rightly confused and annoyed at this point.

Sighing and trying to find your words, you went over to Arthur and his horse. He held out a hand for you to grab and get on. As you pulled yourself onto the back of his mount, you avoided his question and asked, “Can we go for a ride?”

His answer was a silent yes as he spurred his horse around and headed away from camp. It wasn’t until you were out of the woods did you sling your arms around Arthur's waist, squeezing him tight and pressing your cheek against his back, “They know...” You barely whispered.

It felt like you were about to be in for a world of hurt. There was no way the whole camp didn’t know by now. Arthur slowed his horse to a walk, “They?”

“The camp,”

“And what do they know?” Arthur was kind of a stupid man who didn’t pick up on context clues.

It was hard to summon the courage to tell Arthur what had happened. It was also kind of embarrassing. So you decided to start it off from a different angle, “You remember the other night? When we went for a swim down the shore from camp?

Arthur cleared his throat and let out a gruff, “Yeah,” Not like he didn’t want to remember the other night. It was... very fun. Something he’d never done before. Swimming nude a lake with a woman he could barely keep his hands off of. But the tone in your voice made it sound like this was bad. He didn’t know what to expect.

With a shaky voice you started, “Well... Uh...” You paused to just press your whole face into his back, screamed a bit, then rushed out, “John saw us!!!”

Oh... Oh.....Oooooh....

Okay.

Arthur didn’t realize it but his horse stopped walking. He spurred her a bit and clicked his tongue, “Come on, Madam,” She went back to a soft trot, taking them out of Lemoyne county and into New Hanover.

He took in such a big breath, you could feel the tension in his muscles as he sighed and then cleared his throat, “Hm,” is the only sound he made for a bit. This was a bit awkward. Arthur couldn’t find his words really and You didn’t have anything else to say either. Meanwhile, Arthur was stuck in his head.

This news meant that everyone in camp knew or would soon know about them. Which was the last thing he wanted. In fact, he wanted no one to know because he was afraid of what Dutch might think... and do. And not the kind of afraid that he was romantically interested in you. He was the kind of afraid that Dutch might take it wrong and use you against him.

Arthur had slowly been growing more and more towards the fantasy of running away with you. Dutch was slowly but surely losing his god damn mind. He was getting more violent, more angry, more sinister and far far less than what he used to be. Or maybe he was always that way and he just good at hiding it. Arthur wasn’t sure.

He didn’t need Dutch questioning his loyalty any more than he already was. It was heartbreaking, watching his mentor and father figure turn into a sociopath. It was just as bad for you too. The both of you wanted to escape. Right now just wasn’t the time. You didn’t want anyone to suspect that you’d run away. Together.

It was bad enough watching Dutch turn on Abigal. Saying she was poisoning John’s mind, turning him against the gang. It wasn’t good and it wasn’t nice. You couldn’t imagine what it was like to have a family in the gang, let alone a relationship. That’s why you and Arthur were so careful, or so you thought.

“What do you want to do?” You broke Arthur from his mind and thoughts, tired of the silence as you got further and further into New Hanover.

“Who knows?” He was trying to take this slow.

You sighed, “Probably everyone by now. It don't take long for news like that to get around,”

“Maybe they’ll be happy for us,” He bitterly said. He knew some would be happy for you guys. But not everyone, “Might throw a party,” his sarcasm dripped heavily from his tongue, “Might even give us a wedding they’d be so damn happy for us!”

For a second your mind buzzed on the word wedding but you flushed it away quickly, “What about Dutch?”

“So what?” Arthur seemed like he was getting frustrated. He clicked his tongue and ushered his beloved horse Madam to go faster, “Dutch can just... He can... Ugh! He can go fuck himself. We go back there now he’s gonna be all cool and great! He’s gonna love it!”

That was the biggest fear. That Dutch would play his word games and make it seem like he was happy for the two of you but instead, he’d twist it around and somehow make you guys feel guilty for loving each other.

“I don’t care about Dutch,” Arthur went on. His words surprised you, “He can make us do this, send us out to do that. He could keep us apart by keeping us busy with the gang. I don’t care.” Before you knew it, you were both back in Valentine. But Arthur just strutted on through town and kept going. Where were you going? So you asked. Arthur said, “Strawberry,” like it was the only place in the world he wanted to be.

So maybe he wasn’t taking the news well? You rode in silence to Strawberry, minute Arthur talking to himself. Muttering this and that about how Dutch could go get fucked by a train or something like that. But really you knew he was scared. Scared to go back and face the wrath of Mr. Van der Linde. He really just wanted to spend this day with you. And that’s what he was going to fucking do.

By the time you got to Strawberry, it was early in the evening. The sky was a lovely orange, the moon was soft and only came out from the clouds every so often. The town was quiet and slow, unlike the other times you had been there.

Arthur helped you down from his horse that was hitched outside the Strawberry hotel. This was the first time he had held your hand out in public. He didn’t seem scared at all like he did once before in Rhodes. It seemed like the further away you got from the gang -from Dutch- the more Arthur felt free and bold. The two of you walked up and into the hotel.

“So why here?” You asked, “What’s going on inside that head of yours, Mr. Morgan?” You tried your best to keep yourself upbeat compared to his rough and gruff grumpy attitude.

He took in a deep breath, “Just wanted to get away for a bit,” He drawled. His face soften a bit as he looked at you, “Gonna make something good about this rather bad day,” And it was a bad day for Arthur. He had to deal with a swarm of O’driscolls in the grizzles because Dutch sent him out there to do it, even though they were... a god damn!! County away!!

Arthur held the door open for you, making you feel flattered and your cheeks dust pink, “How kind of you,” You teased lightly.

With a smile and a soft chuckle, he shuffled you in the door, “Come on,” He pressed a hand into your lower back which made goose bumps run over your skin. His voice was right in your ear too. Oh god. And so the smooth riding cowboy began his tricks.

You guys rented a room for the night and Arthur requested that there be a bath in that room too. As you walked up the beautiful wooden staircase, Arthur was very close behind you. He’d poke a finger at your rear end, causing you to giggle out and run up the stairs. He was quick to follow. You had so much on your mind -Arthur- that you didn’t remember what room you got.

Instead, when you looked over your shoulder to see Arthur’s devilish grin coming for you, you felt your heart leap and so did you... kind of. Bursting with giggles, you ran your self around the through the little hallway of the hotel. Arthur’s own laugh mingled with your own as the two of you played a coy game of catch me if you can.

He cornered you finally after a few minutes of running around a coffee table. Your back was pressed against the wall and Arthur pinned you there, looking down at you between his arms that trapped you there.

“Gotchya,” He leaned in close, his smile wide and even more handsome up close. He went in for a kiss but you quickly turned your head. His lips landed on your cheek instead. This got him going.

You kept avoiding his kisses as you laughed at his frustration. You knew he loved these games you played. It was like being a teenager again in your old middle-aged lives. He finally grabbed you, both of his rough hands on your cheeks and keeping you from turning.

“You got me,” You smiled at him.

Finally! Arthur took sweet satisfaction in kiss your lips. He tasted like cigarettes and whiskey. But it was such a welcoming taste at this point. The stubble on his face prickled your cheeks once he took his hands away and replaced them at your waist.

When he pulled away, a little out of breath, he grinned, “We should get to our room,” You nodded silently and took his head, following him as he leads you to room number 4.

Inside it was low lit but warm and filled with the colors of a forest. Everything was either oak brown or deep pine green. There was a bath there too. The two of you stood in the doorway, a little overwhelmed by the room. Funny enough, you guys have never shared a bed, nor a room, nor got a hotel room either. You’ve been together for a few months now. But the gang always got in the way of the two of you spending time together or getting away.

“I know it’s not a lake,” Arthur was behind you, and very close. You could feel his breath on the back of your neck. Your mind was rattled with thoughts and feelings. You knew exactly what Arthur was trying to get at. He closed the door behind him as you stared there at that bathtub, feeling his hands snake up around you and to your sides, “But I think we can make do to have a little... fun again.”

#red dead redemption #red dead redemption 2 #red dead #red dead head canons #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan/reader #x reader #fanfic #cute #fluff #oneshot #romance #rdr #rdr2 #van der linde gang

26 notes · View notes