#micah is still in jail everyone's happy

[arthursfuckinghat]

The worst part about playing rdr2 again is knowing who's going to die, how they're going to die, when they're going to die, and not be able to do a single thing about it

#sorry I'm just thinking about lenny and sean a lot #they're so full of life #sean is always cheering people up and talking about whatever nonsense he talks about #he fills the silence #lenny is always chirpy and keeping himself busy with reading but is always happy to talk #kieran too #he was always nice even when everyone was cruel to him or picking on him #he did chores and helped with the horses and did whatever he was told #and was grateful for it #nobody fucking noticed when he disappeared apart from mary beth #nobody got to mourn sean #but lenny and hosea both got what they wanted #they were buried with friends #I miss them so much its why I'm still on chapter two because everything's okay for now #micah is still in jail everyone's happy #its hard #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #mick squeaks #arthur morgan #lenny summers #sean macguire #kieran duffy #molly saying “I love you dutch” and getting a “thank you dear” in return makes my blood boil #oh molly

[arthurthethird]

Hey! Could you write some headcanons or possibly a fic on Micah as a dad? Thank you so much!

A/N: Personally, I love this idea. Micah, even tho he's a complete asshole and I'd put a bullet in his head, is one of my favorite characters. Hopefully you enjoy! (Gender isn't specified so reader is gender neutral)

Micah as a father

GN! Reader

Living is a Bell is absolutely humiliating. Everyone knows him, everyone knows he's an asshole. Most think you're just the same.

Now, there are exceptions. Hosea, Dutch, even Arthur. Ms. Grimshaw technically as well, but she still keeps an eye on you.

You did have some of his features. Mostly in personality, although you had the same nose and eyes. You had anger issues. You were quick to get in a fight. But you still tried to be nice, just to show others that you are not like your father.

Speaking of who, wasn't good in parenting. He was akward around you when you were younger. And while yes, he did soften up, laying off on making other's lives miserable, he was still annoying. It's not like he didn't try to be a good father, but he was simply bad at it. He did buy (or steal) some things for you. Clothes, trinkets, weapons. He taught you how to shoot, yet Arthur still helped you more, since according to him "that bastard is horrible at this".

Hosea taught you how to read. Since Micah didn't know how to himself. Dutch taught you how to swim. Long story short, the gang mostly raised you.

One day you brought a dog in. It was while you were still in Blackwater. Oh what a mess.

Most people were happy, loving the new companion. However when you brought it to your father...

"What the hell is that?!"

"It's a dog?" You smiled. "I called him Biscuit"

"It's a monster! Throw it out!" Your father screeched, ready to kick the dog away, but you made sure he's a good distance away.

"No, he's belongs to our family now!"

"I'll show you where that thing belongs!" He yelled, taking a gun.

.... He shot the dog.

Only pet he ever let you keep was a rat. (what a surprise)

You called it Plague. Everyone liked Plague. He died because Uncle stepped on him.

You still tried to make him proud. Because maybe, just maybe, he'll be nicer to everyone if he's proud of you.

You made sure to bring anything you find when you were in Colter. Freezing your ass off, refusing to rest, making sure everyone was well fed. It was hard, you weren't made for snowy weather, but you did anything you could.

"Y/N, please..." Hosea walked to you as you were making your arrows, trying to remember what Charles taught you. "Go rest"

"I can't. We need to survive. We won't survive without food"

"As much as I love your courage-" Dutch approached you, getting a side glare from his partner. "-I can't let you go out. You've been working hard... You have to relax before you freeze to death."

"I really can't" you sigh. You were so close to hearing from your father he's proud of you, you could feel it. You knew he was grateful, he had to be!

You ended up stuck to bed as soon as you got to Horseshoe Overlook.

It didn't last long, a week, maybe two, but you were back on your feet before you even got healthy. If your father caught you resting... You couldn't risk it.

When you found out he was in jail, you begged to let them go for you. Arthur was hesitant, but Dutch allowed it. You jumped on your horse as soon as you could.

You arrived in the town surprisingly quickly. You walked to the jail, looking around it before walking to the window on the side, kneeling down.

"Hey dad"

"Y/N? The hell are you doing here?!"

"I came to save you" you looked around, trying to figure out how to save him. He growled frustrated.

"Why the hell did they let you?! Idiots... You'll die out here!"

".... Are you worried about me?"

"I'm worried about having to drag your corpse all the way back"

"I can leave, I'm sure Arthur will come before they hang you" you got up, turning around, but stopped when you heard his panicked voice.

"No! No, forget it! Get me out of here!"

"We talked about this.... Magic word"

"Oh for god's.... Please"

"You got it"

You wanted to stick with him after, but he told you to go back and tell Dutch he's fine. You were sad, but did as you were told. Tho over the thunder as you left, you could say a quiet thank you... Or was it the wind?

When you moved to Clement's Point, you were happy to see him again. He said he wasn't because he has to deal with you again, but you knew that wasn't true. Hopefully.

You were scared shitless when they went to talk with Colm... Yet got mad when they came back without Arthur. He was like an older brother to you, and he was gone because of him. You haven't talked with either him or Dutch until Arthur came back. It hurt him. You think so. His eyes tell everything.

Saint Denis was pretty calm. Until the bank robbery... Watching Hosea die was hard breaking. He was what Micah couldn't be. You loved him like he'd be your biological father. You were miserable.

Guarma didn't help. If anything, it made things worse. You mostly stuck with Dutch, still trying to help to impress your father, and to help him with his partner's loss. He appreciated that, it seemed. He trusted Micah, and trusted you even more, since you were like his own child. He didn't like to talk about what happened, but was grateful for your presence.

After you got back to America, you went on your own. Trying to find your way to the rest of the gang wasn't easy, but you were one of the first. You did have a close call with law men and Pinkertons, but still managed.

You didn't get to be glad about everyone coming back because of the attack. You tried your best to shoot as many men possible, trying to make sure everyone was safe. You did get some close call, one bullet so close it hit your skin, but didn't get stuck in your arm. Even this didn't stop you from fighting for your gang. For your family.

Days went by. You spent them mostly with Dutch and your father, still trying to stay close to others. Arthur had noticed something going on between the two, he did ask you to keep an eye on them. You promised to do so, but Micah seemed to pull you away from everyone slowly. Or maybe it was you that was staying away? You weren't sure.

Now you were standing frozen. Staring at your leader, pointing a gun at your father and your brother. You watched as he walked to the side, both guns now on John and Arthur. You didn't know what to do. You were scared, confused, sad. And angry.

"Y/N... Get over here" your father looked at you. Others already chose their sides, now staring at you to see what you did.

"Don't do it!" Arthur coughed out. You never realized how sick he was getting. You were looking at the both of them, before taking a deep breath.

You walked to your father. He grinned, happy. It was a chance to finally make him proud.

But as you took your steps, you realized...

"I won't make you proud, will I?" You spat, just to be met with a slowly forming confused look. You continued "everyday I worked, tried so hard to make you happy, to impress you... I don't know if I was trying to win your love or respect. But I don't think I should even try to win it. You're my father, aren't you supposed to give those things unconditionally?"

Micah opened his mouth, but you kept going. "I'm done. I don't want to fight for it anymore. I will never satisfy you, no matter what I do" you sighed, turning to Dutch. "Think about what you're doing. Think about Hosea would say. Because for god's sake, he'd slap you across your face for even pointing your gun at your son's. But make your own decision. I'm done trying to make any of you happy"

And saying that, you grabbed your father's gun, pressing it to your head and pushing his finger to pull the trigger.

Oh the regret on his face.

"I think he was proud" Hosea chuckled to you. "But he was too much of a coward to say it"

"Hopefully I got him to think about his actions" You just sighed, petting Plague and Biscuit. They got along

R.I.P Plague and Biscuit, poor babies. 🙏

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #rdr #red dead redemption #arthur morgan #dutch van der linde #john marston #reddeadredemption2 #micah bell #rdr2 x reader #rdr2 x gn reader #gn reader #gn!reader

[reddeadreference]

Blog Progress Update (Travel Blog Style #17)

Pearson is drunk, Grimshaw is screaming at Mary-Beth for looking in a mirror, Karen is screaming at Grimshaw for killing Molly, Dutch is screaming at Grimshaw

I HATE IT HERE

This whole time.. I never realized the gang DOES know Arthur is sick… like … Strauss says something when you start the last Money Lending mission. And he says it like he KNOWS Arthur isn’t just sick. Like he knows Arthur is terminally ill.

And I just tried to talk to Javier.

A: ”Can we talk?”

J: "I don't have much to say to you right now."

Okay Ouch..wtf did I do to you?! is this cause I just threw out Strauss???

A: “Guess I’ll leave you to it then.”

J: "You just worry about that cough." 

BRUH

Like… ik he's 1000% loyal to Dutch but like… that HURT. Like my eyes actually started tearing up. How dare you, Arthur doesn't deserve this kind of treatment…

Jack just said "I don't like waking up in this place" yup now I'm crying. Me too bud..

"I wish people would stop being mean." ME TOO BUD T_T

I get so upset in this chapter because Arthur literally has known Dutch the longest out of anyone there, John second, and people are doubting both of them like they don’t know Dutch better than everyone else… but I mean I get it cause Dutch saved most of them and they feel like they owe him but… fuck man…

Did Marko’s second mission, Charlotte's first and second mission, All of Edith's, Finished Jim Boy Calloway’s, and I did one of Hamish's and I’m about to go fishing with him (Arthur is so happy to have a friend...). Before that I went and got that Legendary Bear that I honestly just forgot about… I did it for you Hosea (#1 dad. Miss you man…)

I’m going to get through the rest of the game tonight… it’s 2am… okay I’m gonna TRY… I wanna at least get to the build a house montage. (and then stop Immediately after O_O)

Okay that above paragraph did not happen and was written two days ago…

Got a lot of other stuff done though... Now time to get John outta jail.

DONE. and now Micah and Dutch are out of camp! WOO!

Helped Beau and Penelope one last time. Now I just need to finish all the other strangers missions that I can (Charlotte, Hamish, Mr B& Mr W, William,) 

I almost have Doverhill’s post done, and I’m excited to post it cause I edited gifs (really I just put filters over the video and made them into gifs… but still! I think they look nice..) just need an outside shot which I swear I had but must’ve deleted…

I also wanna see about making more gifs cause it’s fun.

Damn it I tried in vain to kill the boar before it could get Hamish… Arthur was so excited to do stuff with Hamish. I’ll take care of Buell... (I just wish John could get him...)

I’m hoping that in a few hours I’ll have finished Doverhill, Willard’s Rest, Hamish’s House (I’m pretty sure I can go inside now), Catfish Jackson which I never got the outside of, I’m gonna see if I can get a few Lake/Pond posts done to. I’m also working on Outfit posts of the outfits you can get in the stores (like I list each part that you can change on them and which parts are exclusive to the outfit, etc.)

(I do also have to finish the rest of the legendary stuff cause I need Arthur’s drawings of those.)

I’m also working on a master list of audio clips from @scarfacemarston ‘s blog (I asked and they said it was okay ^_^ thank you again) I’m sorting through them all, separating them on a google doc so i can make the page and posts for them. There’s clips from April 2020 to now(March 2022) and going backwards I’ve gotten to mid June 2020 lol so that’s a bigger process of this project but I’m excited for it (Cause I also get to listen to a bunch of audio from the game ^^ and I can do it on my laptop anywhere as opposed to just my room)

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #blog progress update

[writermuses]

3, 6, 9, 12, 15, 18, 21, 24, 27, 30, 33, 36, 39, 42, 45, 48.

3. Which of your muses either have been married or are currently married?

Answered Here

6. Which muses can speak languages other than English?

All of my characters are at least bilingual and that’s largely because I’m a polyglot and I don’t want to write monolingual Americans. I definitely have characters that are pretty trash at speaking their non-English languages (Drew versus Spanish, Luca versus Romanian and Russian 😂)

9. Which of your muses is most likely to get thrown in jail for disorderly conduct?

Taney, hands down.

12. Which two of your muses would make the best couple?

They all crinkled their noses in disgust. The ones I’ve been writing longest are friends. I’d say Solena would be the easiest for anyone to be happy with, so perhaps Solena and Micah? They’re already just not about it 🤣 

15. Which of your muses would make the best social media influencer?

Pem, she’s lovable and loves teaching people about her life and overcoming barriers. Her pottery business has a social media presence, but it’s run by her one employee (her assistant) and she’s not interested in being known.

18. Have any of your muses run into trouble with the law?

Answered Here

21. Which muse is the most gullible?

Kailani and it does get her in proper trouble.

24. Which muse is the most proficient chef?

Charlotte runs a catering business, but Nate does this thing when he’s traveling for work, where he’ll ask chefs to let him watch them work. He’s an insomniac and finds it relaxing. He’s learned dishes from some of the best around the world and so what he can cook is amazing. 

27. Which muse utilizes your favorite faceclaim?

Nate, obviously. Anyone that talks to me OOCly knows I prefer my boys. I’m not writing my favorite female FC.

30. Are any of your muses musicians?

Yeah, several. Solena and Nate play piano as a hobby, though Sol write simple piano pieces from time to time. Lachlan is an award winning composer and musician. Luca DJs under a mask but is very popular and he wants to compose for films. Petrina is a violin prodigy and composes. Emir plays Spanish guitar and Taney plays bass. I’m sure I’m forgetting someone. Lachlan, Luca, and Trina are the only ones that would call themselves “musicians”.

33. Which muses would be good parents?

I have several that already are and that’s verse-dependent for everyone except Drew and Matt. Out of those that aren’t, I think that Henri would be the best of them.

36. Do you have an old/retired muse you don’t use anymore but love? Tell us about them.

Most of my characters never go away, they just get supplanted by new muses and then resurrected 😂 I guess at the minute the character I miss the most is my tech twin, Mason Dickens. @marimelwrites wrote his twin and they were darling polar opposites and it was great. I mean, what’s not to love about this freckled face?

39. Which muse is the most manipulative?

Quin/Teague. He didn’t get where he is without being the asshole non grata.

42. Which muse has the most money?

Nate. Delmore Inc. is based of of the real world’s Cargill which has a value of 115 billion dollars. Even splitting that in half with his sister he’s still more wealthy than all my other characters, even combined. That’s saying something when you know all of my beans.

45. Which muse is the biggest flirt?

Taney or Tomlin, the pair of them are such good trouble.

48. Which muse is your ‘main muse’ or the one you find yourself writing the most often lately?

This is always changing, but at the moment it’s Nate.

#ref: character development #chaoticallycosmic

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hi! I love your works and I was wondering if you could write something about a new "lost soul" saved by the gang and trying hard to fit in. A reserved female reader who secretly develops feelings for Arthur, knowing well he has no interest in getting involved with anybody. A good ol' heart-wrenching, I-will-pine-from-a-distance-and-suffer-in-silence kind of unrequited love. Ending is up to you (but maybe it's a happy one

This one turned out sweet. Arthur’s the biggest softy. That said, FLUFF AHEAD!

Masterlist

Read on AO3

You look around nervously, not sure you’re entirely in the right place. Everything’s changed so quickly, it’s hard to process. Sure, you’ve heard endless tales of gangs and outlaws, living wild and free, but you never knew the gritty details about any of it. Now here you are, living it. 

You ended up here with the Van der Linde gang because your life has a funny habit of putting you in the wrong place at the wrong time. You’d been on the train two days ago, and it got robbed by a gang. As they were busy killing the engineer and the conductor and going through everyone’s possessions, a man you’ve come to know to be named as Arthur rode by and killed the bastards. You sank to your knees in fright, afraid you’d be killed too. 

As you sobbed into the grass, your hero dismounted and comforted you. When you explained that you had no home, nowhere to go and nothing to return to, Arthur offered you to come with him. You accepted, of course, you just found yourself incapable of saying no. He put you on the back of his horse and rode down south of Blackwater and into a small hideout called Thieves Landing. 

You’ve never been here before, your parents told you as a child to avoid the place as though it had the plague. Everyone south of the Upper Montana knew it was where criminals hid and because of its layout, it was hard for the law to take. 

It was here that Arthur told you his gang was hiding out in and that you were welcome to stay until you got your life sorted. An older woman named Grimshaw immediately jumped on you and started barking orders, despite you being completely dumbfounded and confused. 

It’s been two days since you were brought in, but you’re not entirely convinced you’re fitting in all that well. The gang’s big with at least twenty members. All of them, even the women, have a track record. The only one who’s as innocent is a child named Jack, but the rest have done something to earn them at least a few days in jail, but most have earned even the noose should they ever get caught. 

It’s not a comforting idea exactly, but already you can see how tight-knit they all are. There’s a sense of family here, the likes of which you’ve never had the fortune of experiencing. While in the day, Grimshaw barks and even nips, at night she turns pleasant, making sure everyone gets a plate to eat and singing songs around the campfires. 

She’s not the only one to let down their hair at night. Most of everyone does, telling stories about things that have happened or singing songs. You especially liked it last night when a young man named Javier sat down and played his guitar, singing in Spanish. Being from down south yourself, you were used to hearing his native tongue though you understood none of the words. It was still pleasant to hear. 

“So, how’s you adjustin’?” asks the young girl next to you as you scrub at a shirt in the wash bin with a rather stubborn spot that doesn’t want to come out. She’s got brown hair and she’s wearing a faded purple dress with a rather pretty necklace. 

“I… I think I’m okay. But… Mary-Beth, isn’t it?” you say. She nods. “Can I be honest with you?” She nods again. “I really don’t fit in here. Not because you’re criminals and I’m not, it’s just… I have nothing to offer anyone. I don’t know how to steal, shoot a gun. Hell, I can barely ride a horse.” 

“And that’s okay,” Mary-Beth says with a small smile. “You can learn how to do those things. I’m more than happy helpin’ ya, and I bet the other gals will too.” 

“Not only that, but we can always use another girl,” Grimshaw snarls, stomping over to you both. “Now get to work, both of ya!” She marches away to go bully Tilly. 

“Don’t worry about Ms. Grimshaw,” Mary-Beth says when the woman’s out of earshot. “She likes to act tough, and sometimes she can be a little too forceful, but she does care.”

“That’s to be debated,” says Karen, walking over with a repeater in her hand. She must have just finished with guard duty. “That ol’ bat wouldn’t give a damn if we was all on fire, long as we’re workin’.” 

Mary-Beth gives a little giggle, but Karen walks off to go and talk with a red-haired man. Because Thieves Landing is so large, you’re still learning the names of the members of the gang. You’ve kept your ears open though, wanting to learn about these people, see how the other side of society works. 

Growing up, you never had many friends, always being very shy. At school, you were bullied a lot for reasons you couldn’t understand. Your parents tried to help you but there was little they could do aside from pulling you out of the school and teaching you themselves. They didn’t know much about math or science though, so they taught you what they knew: how to ranch and garden. 

When you were about ten, your father got sick and died. A few weeks later, your mother, who had contracted his illness, died too. You ended up at your uncle’s house, but he was such an abusive, angry drunk you just left one day when you were 15. You’ve been on your own since, jumping from one job to the next. You were between them when you were on that train a couple days back, when Arthur found you. 

As you sit and work, you smile as you think of your father. He used to tell you many stories, but your favorites were those about gunslingers and outlaws. Something about them seemed romantic and fantastical, the way they represented the idea of freedom, of never being tied down. You never thought you would be incorporated into a gang of them as an adult. 

A few hours later and you hear the somewhat familiar voice of the camp cook Pearson shouting that dinner’s ready. You sigh in relief, knowing that dinner signals the end of the day’s work and you can relax. The past two nights you’ve spent alone on your bedroll, being too shy to mingle, but as you stoop to collect your stew, you wonder if you can muster the courage to change that. 

Several of the gang has gathered around a large campfire to talk over dinner. There’s an empty seat, but it’s right next to Arthur Morgan. Sure, he’s the man who brought you here, but you feel especially unimportant next to him. He’s a big guy, much taller than yourself, broad, handsome. The girls told you he’s got a very rough exterior but secretly harbors a heart of gold. However, it wasn’t until you found out he holds some of the greatest weight in camp that made you shy around him. 

A hand pats you on the back, making you jump a little. Turning, you see Grimshaw. 

“Go on, have a seat, dear. You’ve earned it.” 

Unable to say no to her, you walk over and take a hesitant seat next to Arthur, hunching down a little. He doesn’t seem to notice as he’s listening to a man named Hosea tell a story about how he’d nearly been busted for robbing a house during a wake but how he’d managed to act his way out of being caught. It’s a rather funny story and as the others laugh appreciatively, you feel yourself relaxing. That is until Hosea’s story ends and he asks you a pointed question. 

“How are you settling in, miss?” 

You hate being brought out in the spotlight like this and it doesn’t help that Arthur, sitting so close, turns to look at you, his expression neutral. 

“Oh, I’m… I’m doing okay, thank you. Mary-Beth said she can teach me how to rob people, so I’m hoping I won’t be so useless to you anymore soon.” 

“No one’s complaining about you being useless,” says a man named John, sharpening his knife on a whetstone. “When you start bein’ as useless as Uncle, then we’ll have a problem.” 

“Hey, I work!” complains the man in question. 

“Really? When was the last time you lifted a finger ‘round here, ol’ man?” Arthur challenges. The group happily begins to bicker, but you’re grateful as it’s pulled their attention off of you. 

As the days pass, you begin to hear people in the gang beginning to talk about a big score. A member named Micah came in to bring the idea of a big river boat to the gang’s leader Dutch. From what you can make of Dutch, he’s a clever, calculating man who cares deeply for his family. Mary-Beth and Tilly told you how he and Hosea took both Arthur and John in as their sons despite not being much older themselves. They formed this gang together and it’s stayed strong. 

Ever since Micah brought in the potential job, the gang’s been humming with excitement. It seems to be a very big score and will need a lot of help for it to work. You’d like to volunteer, to contribute something, but you know you’re utterly useless right now. Mary-Beth’s only begun to explain the basics of robbing to you. However, this job sounds like it’s to come with a guaranteed gunfight. 

The day for the heist arrives and pretty much every man in the gang goes to do it. A few hours later, they return to Thieves Landing bearing bad news. Somehow the law knew the boat was going to be hit and they met the gang with fierce opposition. Poor Jenny, whom you’d just started to get to know, was shot and so was Davey and John. Dutch and Hosea start shouting for everyone to get packed up as the Pinkertons are in pursuit. 

Days go by and Thieves Landing is far behind you and the others. The gang has moved north, still trying to shake the Pinkertons off. Jenny passed away two days ago, but no one has been able to bury her as a massive snowstorm moved in shortly after she passed. 

Moral is at an all-time low, yours included. You wouldn’t dream of leaving though, these people have become your close friends and even border on something like a family. Grimshaw tries to encourage everyone to stay positive, but it’s clear she doesn’t feel it much either. 

Night falls once again as the wagon train goes along a narrow pass, the horses trudging through the thick snow. The weather has stayed horrible for days, dumping the white powder in great heaps. The Pinkertons haven’t been seen in the past two days. Perhaps this means the gang can finally find somewhere to hide. Dutch sent Arthur out a few hours ago to scout, along with John and Micah. 

Arthur returns just as Abigail makes note that Davey is nearly dead. He reports that he found a place to shelter and guides the train there. It’s a small town named Colter according to a small sign by the main trail. The gang moves into the largest building but Abigail says Davey’s passed. Soon after, Dutch and Arthur go out to find what else might be around and they end up bringing back a heartbroken woman named Sadie. 

Two days go by and the weather’s hardly let up. You stand outside in the freezing, snowy morning. You just need a break from the others for a while. Even though you enjoy most of them, being cooped up in such tight quarters for so long has worn you out. However, you’re already shivering from the cold under all your layers. 

“You doin’ okay? Ya look half frozen,” a voice says from behind. You turn and see Arthur, wrapped up in his big blue coat, his face hidden beneath his hat. 

“Yeah. Yeah, just need a break. Been a tough few days.” 

“It sure has.” Suddenly a fierce blast of wind whistles down the path and Arthur wraps an arm around you as though to protect you from it. As you lack a hat and your head’s covered only by a thin blanket, you bury your head into his chest. He lets you though, but as soon as the wind dies a little you pull away from him, your face red. You blame it on the cold wind. 

However, something changes with your view of Arthur. Sure, you’ve seen him comforting most people in the gang and he’s known for being caring and gentle, interested in all movements in the gang. But you were never a receiver of that care until now. You try denying your feelings, saying you’ve just been isolated for too long. 

Nearly a week goes by and you’ve tried keeping distance between yourself and Arthur, believing your feelings will cool down with the space. The weather finally breaks and Hosea suggests camping in a new place he knows in the Heartlands. The gang is moved into action finally and the wagon train moves down to it. 

It’s a great relief to finally be surrounded by trees and green rather than white and feel the warm sun instead of cold wind. The new camp spot, Horseshoe Overlook, is beautiful. Immediately you’re set to work by Grimshaw, but when night falls, you’re allowed to rest. 

You stand on the edge of camp near the cliff, overlooking the river and the canyon. This place is beautiful. You’ve rarely seen this much moving water, being from the desert. Arthur walks over with two bowls of stew. 

“Here, noticed you ain’t eaten yet.” He hands you one and you thank him. 

The two of you stand together, eating without speaking for a few moments. 

“So, now you been with us a while and seen us at our best and worst,” Arthur says, “what you thinkin’ of doing?” 

“How do you mean?” 

“I mean what you plan on doin’? You gonna stay or you thinkin’ of movin’ on? No one would blame you if you decided to leave.” 

“Do you… want me to leave?” you say with a pang. 

“No. No, far from it. I think you could easily find a place among us. Seems like you already have too. Pretty much everyone here likes ya.” 

You blush a little and look away. “I think I wanna stay. I like it here.” 

He smiles a little, his blue eyes shining. You feel a surge of desire to hug him, your heart beating a bit faster. “Well, good. Like I said, think you’ll fit in easy.” 

He takes your empty plate and heads off, leaving you alone. You turn and watch him, wanting nothing more than to be with him. Part of you wishes he’d come back to you, but he heads off to sit next to John and Hosea at the campfire. You turn back to watch the sunset, trying to push him out of your mind. It won’t do you any favors.

The next morning, you’re sitting with the other girls doing chores. Mary-Beth turns to you. “So, saw you blushing when Arthur said good mornin’ to you.” She gives you a sly look. 

“I… I thought I had to sneeze right when he spoke to me,” you lie. 

“It’s okay if you like him,” she says consolingly. “To be honest, I think we all developed a little thing for him in the beginning. I did anyways.” 

“I’d be lyin’ if I said I didn’t,” Tilly says. “But, do yourself a favor, Y/N. Move on from him. I ain’t sayin’ that out of selfishness or cruelty, but Arthur’s unavailable.” 

“I didn’t know he had someone,” you say sadly. 

“Well, he doesn’t anymore, but he can’t seem to move on from her,” Mary-Beth explains. 

As if on queue, Arthur walks out of his tent, reading a letter. Susan walks up to him and they exchange words. You hear the name Mary and Susan tells him she never liked her. He says something to her and then heads out. 

“And there he goes, off to see her,” Karen says sourly. “She barely has to say his name and he’ll move mountains to see her.” 

Your heart sinks even further. You’d just begun to accept the fact that you have some strong feelings for Arthur, but this is a harsh blow. If he’s still attached to this woman, it means he’s definitely not interested in you. It’d be best if you give him up. 

Night comes and Arthur’s returned. Once again, he brings you a plate of food as you stand near the cliff. A long silence passes between the two of you, your mind heavy. 

“You okay? Awful quiet,” he says. 

“I’m doin’ just fine, Arthur, thank you though,” you say somewhat coldly. You mentally make a note to be a little nicer. It’s not his fault you’ve got a crush on him. 

“You sure? If ya need to talk, I’m always willin’ to listen. I want ya to be happy.” 

God, why does he have to be so sweet yet so unavailable? It’s incredibly frustrating. You turn to him. 

“Well, maybe you can help. Have you ever had real strong feelings for someone? Someone you couldn’t be with because you know they’d never want to be with you, and because they’re hung up on someone else?”

He gives you a curious look. “Who you talkin’ about?” His face falls a bit. “It’s John, ain’t it? You got a thing for him, don’t ya?”

Is that envy in his eyes? “J-John? No, Arthur, I don’t have a thing for John. Sure he’s nice and funny, but he’s not my type. Plus I think Abigail would murder anyone who tried anything with him.” 

His face lightens up a bit. “I think you’re right there. Well, I don’t know much about relationships. Pretty useless, in fact.” 

You smile up at him. “Well, thought I’d ask.” 

“Who is this person?” he asks. “Anyone I know?” 

“Definitely. He’s… someone in this gang, but like I said, he’s emotionally unavailable. Besides, I wouldn’t stand a chance with him.” 

“Ah, don’t sell yourself short.” He sighs a little. “Well, maybe you just need to walk up to this feller, tell him exactly how you feel.” 

“Okay. Arthur, I like you.” 

“Exactly. Just like that.” He smiles. “See? It ain’t so hard.” 

“No, Arthur, you’re not listening to me,” you say, your face beat red. “I said I like you.” 

He blinks and straightens up a bit. He looks shocked. Or maybe that’s anger. Fear stings your stomach and you take a step back. 

“I… I’m sorry. I was… just practicing.” You turn to walk away, deciding never to be alone with Arthur again. You can’t blame him for being angry either. You wouldn’t like you if you were him. 

“Y/N, wait.” His hand’s on your shoulders. “Did you mean it?” 

You look down at your feet. “I’m sorry, Arthur. I didn’t choose to like you, and I’m sorry for it. Not because you’re not a good man,” you say hastily at the look on his face. “What I meant is I’m sorry for… me.” 

His eyes soften considerably. “Please don’t apologize. Especially for you bein’ yourself. Can I tell you a secret?” He leans in a little and whispers, “I’ve liked ya since that day up in Colter.” 

You blush even deeper. “Me too.” 

His arms suddenly slide around you, hot and gentle. Your hands are on his shoulders and he leans down, placing his lips on yours. Something flutters in your chest. It’s like a bird is trapped inside, fighting to get out. They’re slightly chapped, but the moment his lips touch yours, the bird settles and gives a satisfied purr. You lean into the kiss, sighing a little. 

“Bout time you two finally did somethin’,” Hosea says, walking past. He gives you both a sly smile. “Dutch and I been gettin’ tired of seeing you two gettin’ all dovey eyed when the other wasn’t looking.” 

You laugh and put your forehead onto Arthur’s chest, trying to hide your face as Arthur laughs. 

“Sorry, Hosea.” 

“Nah, you two kids have fun.” He walks off, chuckling a bit. Arthur looks down at you and smiles. 

“You wanna go somewhere a little more private? Try that kiss where we won’t be spied on?” 

You bite your lip and smile, nodding. Arthur takes your hand and leads you off into the trees. You pin him to a tree and kiss him hard, pressing your body on his. His arms slide up your back and wind into your hair. As the kiss deepens, you wonder where else this night will go. 

#rdr2 fanfic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x female reader #awkward asks

[cowboisadness]

Hang ‘Em High {Arthur Morgan x FemOC} Chapter 6

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x FemOC Summery: Belle Hawthorne is high society looking to escape her mean husband. A robbery by the Van Der Linde gang could be her chance. Can she escape his cluches and possibly discover what love should feel like?

Warnings: Animal death, mentions of domestic assault and abortion.

AN: This is a long one, hope you enjoy :)

. . . . .  A few days had passed in the camp, many were busy either around camp or out on jobs to bring in money. Mary-Beth and Tilly explained to me what the jobs would entail, most of the time putting themselves in serious danger. Having enough to get by wasn't enough, especially for Dutch, occasionally giving smooth worded speeches to everyone like he was the Mayor of a grand town. He wanted more money, a lot of it for everyone to live a life of luxury. Arthur had recently returned from Strawberry to rescue a member of the gang i had not yet met, but had been warned about. Apparently the rescue mission didn't go as smoothly as planned. Arthur aimed to get him out of jail and out of Strawberry with minimum confrontation. The other guy had different plans. As I sat on my bedrole in my small tent stitching one of his shirts, the very man I'd been warned about approached.“I’m almost done with your shirt Micah.” i smiled politely at him, not wanting to get on his bad side from the get go but hoping to stay cautious while around him.He leaned against the tree beside my tent, lighting a cigarette as he did so.“So where did they pick you up from?” He looked towards me and it was then I realised everything he might say would be laced with venom. “Saint Denis. More of a rescue than a pick up.” I returned my attention to the task in hand. He blew out a cloud of smoke in my direction, the smell of cheap tobacco filling my nose. It was his way to invade my space without being too forward. I wouldn't let it bother me, what with the many social gatherings that involved being in rooms filled with smoke and smoking myself on those occasions. He let out a breath, a sigh, before pushing himself off the tree and walking away, but not before muttering words he still made sure I could hear. “Another deadweight to feed.”  All I could do was chuckle to myself, cutting the thread in my hand with a knife. Deciding that he didn't deserve my effort to achieve perfection. By late evening I joined the others around the campfire, sitting next to Charles and Karen, the former handed me a freshly opened beer bottle. I was so used to expensive French wine, chilled in an ice bucket. I've gotten used to so much these last few weeks, living in the wild. The thought before would scare me half to death but I soon found it was different with a sense of family around you. Growing up i was taught the life of a gang of outlaws was a brutal one, the men being fueled and finding joy in murder, rape and theift, nothing more than monsters that have no care for anything other than themselves. I was never told that sometimes they could be people out of luck, born and raised without security and certainty, needing to do what they could to get by with the hope that they could one day, live without worrying when their next meal could be. These people around me all have terrible backstories and that's what brought them together, with the hopes of a better future as long as they fight for it together, even if that meant doing bad things.

I was the opposite, my life was paved out for me from the day I was born. To learn to be a loving and doting wife and mother. We never had to worry about our next meal, always knowing it would be fresh and grand. I was also lucky that my father wanted to teach me some of what he would teach my two older brothers, mainly hunting and how to care for our horses. I was so lucky, I was privileged. Javier brought out his guitar and started singing in his native tongue, some of us swaying to the tune. I heard of Charles and Arthur going out to hunt tomorrow, this was my chase to ask to join with them.I turned my attention to Charles, tapping him lightly on the arm for his attention to turn to me. “Everything okay Bella?” “I heard you and Arthur are going on a hunt tomorrow.” “We are. At first light. You wanting anything in particular?” “Is it possible that I join you both? I know how to use a bow, father taught me and it’s...it’s been a while...i’d love to hunt again.” I looked at him with pleading eyes as he took a swig from his bottle before turning to me with a soft smile. “Of course, always happy to have someone else along that knows what they are doing.” I couldn't play down my happiness, grinning from ear to ear and professing my thanks to Charles. I sipped the rest of my warm beer before saying my goodnights to the ones remaining around the fire and to Charles that I'll see him at first light. I tried my best to prevent a skip in my step as I made my way to my bedroll, excited for sleep and the day ahead. ….. The sun was barely making an appearance when I woke, stretching out my limbs before readying myself for the day, thankful to Sadie for offering me a pair of her pants she didn't want. Not only was I able to get out and do something I enjoyed, being amongst nature, but I was able to do something to help the camp other than repairing clothes and washing dishes.   Making my way over to the coffee pot I saw Arthur was already there, sitting on a log near the now burnt out fire, coffee in hand.  “Morning” He jumped slightly and turned to me, watching as I poured myself a hot cup.  “You're up earlier than usual.” He turned his attention back to his cup as I sat beside him. “I’m coming hunting with you...and what do you mean earlier than usual? You been watching me Mr Morgan?” I took a sip, Arthur spluttered his, seemingly trying not to choke on the burning liquid. “What?...no...just...i'm usually first awake is all.” I smiled in my cup, hopefully hiding my slight giggle. A man of his size and how intimidating he can seem, he sure can get flustered easily, his cheeks turning a muted shade of pink. It was fun. We finished our coffee and made our way over to Charles and the horses, getting them saddled up. “You feel well enough to ride yourself Bella?” Charles asked, tightening the saddles girth so it fit snugly but comfortably around the horse.  “I'm sure I'll be fine…” I looked over to Arthur, grinning “...I won't be falling off anytime soon.” “Take Johns horse, he won't be needing her today.” Arthur pointed over to the horse mentioned and I made my way over to sadde her. .….. The ride out into the heartlands towards Cumberland Forest was pleasant, the morning sun warming the earth and birds filling the air with their song. It was peaceful,the most peaceful I've felt in a long while. Still nothing of the attempted robbery or information about my disappearance had been read or heard of. Maybe Arthur was right, maybe Frank didn't care that i was gone, maybe he thought i was dead. I hope he did. We made it to the spot at Cumberland Forest and hitched the horses within the outskirts, hidden from view. Arthur let me use his bow, saying he was better with a rifle anyway. The three of us walked further into the forest, making sure to keep an eye and ear out for bears that roam the area. “Why don't we split up?” Charles suggested in a hushed toned as to not to disturb the surrounding wildlife. “Sure. Bella can come with me, might not need to use the rifle if she don't miss.” Arthur smirked. My expression one of mock disgust and punching him lightly in the arm. Granted I might be a bit rusty, it had been a couple of years since I hunted or even held a bow, but I'm sure once I get my mind focused it will be like second nature. Another thing I hope for.  Charles moved further into the forest, me and Arthur moving closer to the Dakota river. The forest was tranquil and busy at the same time, the smell of pine and aspen filling my nose, the intense gaze of the sun being softened by the green blanket above, lighting everything in an orange hue. Any light that broke through the leaves lighting up in patches on the ground, able to see the suns daily path across the dirt from the sections of thick grass and various plants. Songbirds and sparrows weaving through the labyrinth of branches, hunting for bugs and seeds as they sang their love songs. For a moment it felt like we were the only people in existence as we walked in a comfortable silence. As we neared the river Arthur lifted his hand for attention then pointed ahead. Two whitetail deers drinking from the river. We crouched down, keeping out steps slow and light as we neared them. Once we stopped Aarthur looked to me, giving a nod for me to take my aim. I nocked the arrow, drawing it till the string resisted, keeping my chin low and feet steady, Arthur giving a soft whistle to get their attention. Two breaths and releasing on the exhale, the arrow flew to the mark, hitting the deer through its right eye, killing it instantly. I breathed in a huff of triumph as Arthur smiled at my glee. We made our way over, Arthur pulling on the animal readying to lift it. “Maybe i didn't need the rifle.” “Didn't trust me?” we smirked at each other, both pleased that we got a kill so soon. Arthur whistled for his horse as I gazed out at the river, hoping to see another distracted deer. He wrapped the animal in rope and secured it onto the back of his horse but we soon realised we were not paying proper attention to our surroundings as we should have. A guttural roar came from the thick forest behind us, too close for comfort. Before we had any time to react a mass of fur and teeth was bounding out of the treeline towards us, its black eyes trained on me. Fight or flight instincts kicked in, my legs pushing my back into a run, tripping over a river rock as I turned, planting straight into the river. I knew I couldn't get up quick enough, legs still pushing me backwards but failing to get traction, arms stretching out in front of my face like I could stop the beast with my own hands. Just as it was above me, staring down the cavern that was a throat, a crack of thunder rang out in my ears, echoing into the distance. The beast above me ceased and dropped on my legs, red splattered on my pants, shirt and no doubt my face.I looked at the stilled bear with wide eyes and then over to Arthur, rife in hand. My breathing steadying as I came down from the shock of what just happened and pushing the animal off me to stand. “Maybe you did need that rifle.” i giggled, looking towards Arthur, his eyes full of concern but a smile creeping on his face at my attempt to bring humor to the situation. I wasn't just covered in bear blood but soaked from landing in the river. I tried to shake off what I could and wring out the water from my shirt. Arthur walked over holding out a dry shirt for me to take. “I always carry fresh on my horse. Better than being soaked through completely.” I took the shirt and muttered a thanks, making my way out of the river and onto dry land, Arthur making a start on skinning the bear and whistling over Johns horse . The cold breeze hit my wet skin, making me shiver so I wasted no time in removing my drenched shirt, peaking over my shoulder to make sure he was distracted before also removing my camisole, now bare from the waist up. Pain shot up my side due to my hurried pace, letting out a quiet gasp, looking down at the still present bruise on my ribs, less angry, but persistent nonetheless. “There's trees right there y’ know.” My moment of pain must have caught his attention. Embarrassment flushed to my cheeks and I quickly pulled on his shirt and buttoned it up. It buried my small frame, stopping mid thigh, and it smelled like him, the faint hint of tobacco and gunpowder. “Scared.” “Why?” “Bears.” He huffed a laugh, lifting the bear hide and stowing it on johns horse. Both of us mounted up and started making our way to Charles' horse, silently deciding that was enough hunting for us today.Once there we built a campfire and I sat as close to it as comfortably possible, drying off my pants and sharing some fresh bear meat between us. We both were lost in thought, sitting in silence across from each other as we ate. I decided to break the silence with another request.

 “Teach me to shoot properly?” it came out as both a demand and a question.He just looked at me while he chewed on the meat, the flames dancing over his face.“Father taught me how to handle a pistol, but i want to be sure i can protect myself...against bears...and people.”  “You never went hunting after bein’ married?” I shook my head and sighed, looking down at the unfinished meat in my hands. “No. Frank wouldn't allow it. He would say the only things women are for are cooking, breeding and fucking.”   “The more I learn about him, the more I wish I'd shot the bastard.” The anger in his tone was evident and with no hint of doubt.  We sat in silence, the midday sun now high in the sky. He seemed to be lost in thought for a while before opening his mouth wanting to say something before changing his mind. I looked to him expectedly, wanting him to say what he wanted. His eyes locked with mine, knowing I was giving my permission to speak his thoughts.After a brief moment of silence, he finally broke it. “I...those...those scars ya have. They from him too?”  So he did see. I hummed in response before giving him a proper answer. “My broken ribs weren’t from falling off your horse either. A lesson for flirting with the bastard on the balcony.” “Jesus” “He was so kind when we first met before getting married, always sending me gifts, flowers, jewelry. Written love letters and saying that he was building a stable at our future home, a homecoming gift for his sweetheart…” Arthur didn't speak as I paused, instead standing to retrieve something from his saddlebag before making his way around the fire to sit beside me, handing me a bottle of Bourbon. I smiled as I took it, opening it and taking a few gracious gulps, feeling the burning sensation trickle down my throat. “...He gradually changed after only being married for a few weeks. Dictating what i could wear and what hobbies i could indulge in, preventing me from seeing or talking to my childhood friends. Then the beatings would start getting worse... the assaults...eventually i couldn't sleep out of fear of what was to come when sharing a bed with him.” I took in a shaky breath, willing my tears not to breach. “Couldn't ya have returned to ya parents?” I shook my head before taking another swig and handing the bottle back to him. “I wanted to but...i was married off to him because my parents were struggling with the farmlands after three bad winters. Franks promised financial support in exchange for my hand. He even ceased all contact with them after only a month. I wrote letters to them but I never got one back. I have no idea what happened. Frank knew I wanted to leave so he promised to force a baby into me. That way, I'd have no choice but to stay with him.” I didn't know why i was telling Arthur all this, maybe because i knew it would help to get it off my chest, maybe because i felt like i could trust him. I didn't want pity, I realised, just a listening ear, someone to lend me their comfort for a little while.I hesitated before continuing. Arthur's eyes on me like I was a lost puppy, reaching out my hand for the bottle again he passed it to me without a word. I took another sip for courage, or so I couldn't feel the pain of reliving my horror. “I ended up falling pregnant. When I found out early on, I was more terrified in that moment than I had been in my life. He was elated of course, finally getting what he wanted. I knew he would be a horrible father, knew he wouldn't think twice about lifting his hand to a child. So I decided I couldn't let that happen. Had a doctor visit while he was on an overnight business meeting, some of his practices a known secret amongst many women.” Tears silently flowed as I stared into the growing flames of the fire. A hand placed gently on my knee for comfort and in understanding. “Did...did he find out?” “Told him I lost it. He shot my horse as punishment for being a failure of a woman.” “Bella...I’m sorry” It was barely above a whisper, anything louder and i might shatter like century old glass.He drew circles on my knee with his thumb as I wiped away the fallen tears. I made a silent vow never to cry over that man again, not to let him take up space in my mind. Absentmindedly I leaned into Arthurs touch, his shoulder meeting my temple, breathing in my first steady breath, Arthur wrapping his arm around me.

#hang em high #hang em high fic #arthur morgan #arthur morgan x oc #arthur morgan fic #rdr2 #red dead redemtion 2 #rdr2 fic #fanfiction

[micahscowgirl]

Bite Me ~ Chapter 1

Micah Bell x f!reader

Rating: Explicit (18+)

Warnings: Cussing

Word Count: 2802

This is my first post and my first story. I know it’s not the best ever and I know that there are mistakes, but I enjoyed writing it and I hope that y’all enjoy reading it. Sorry in advance... Micah has my heart on a rope dragging behind him. 

Chapter 1

You have been with the Dutch Van der Linde gang for just over two months. You hooked up with them in Blackwater after a run-in with Dutch himself. He saw your life for what it was: pointless. You were working as a "waitress" in a saloon. Bossed around by the owners and your pleasure-seeking customers. Life wasn't so great for you. Dutch pulled you out of it and gave you a new one.

It had only been a month since you had joined your new family when everything went south for the gang. A heist went sour. Everyone was frantic, packing the camp and running around like ants in their tunnels. Everyone seemed so accustomed to it, but it was all happening so fast, you had to step away to breathe. It startled you when Dutch put his hand on your shoulder and, in all this madness, he smiled. "Y/N, I know this is all happening very fast and you haven't been with us for very long, but we would all be grateful for you to join us on our journey."

You had become quite fond of your new friends, but Blackwater is where you spent your entire life. You were born there, raised there, abandoned by your parents, abused, worked as a whore, taken advantaged up, spent too many nights crying, sore, and broke... It wasn't as hard as a decision as you had thought it would be. 

"Of course I will join you and your Family, Dutch. I am a part of this now, too. This has become my battle."

He smiled. "I was hoping you would say that." He stood and began to walk off. A few steps away, he stopped and turned to face you. "Y/N,"

"Yes, Dutch?"

"This isn't just 'our' family, it's your family now, too." He turned back and walked away.

~~~~~~

It was a month now since the gang left Blackwater. Unlike the other women of the camp, you were treated differently. They all knew you were stronger, tougher than the others. Dutch saw it, Hosea saw it, and even Arthur saw it. After the terrible start of spring in Colter, they saw your talents. You had signs of a leader in you, but also a beast that would fight and steal and, overall, make the gang a whole lot of money.

That is why you are where you are now: sitting at a bar in Strawberry, drinking whiskey, and working with--or more like babysitting--the biggest asshole you know. Micah Bell. He is an overall twisted person, always picking and prying at people's skins, trying to dig out the worst in them. He was one of the few people in the gang that you didn't get along with--Pearson and Molly O'Shea being the other two. He would spend evenings stirring and twisting people up, trying to catch them on fire. He must get off on the idea of someone's brain completely blocked out by rage, almost to the breaking point. 

At the moment, he was playing cards with a few guys. No one at that table seemed to be enjoying themselves. They could've been shoveling cow shit and have been a little more enthused. Wearing frowns on all of their faces and fashioning cigarettes and shot glasses either in their hands or in arms reach. No easy conversations, just harsh glares. They're only playing for money, not for sport. 

After your second beer and third shot, you felt drunk enough to get a good night's rest in an unfamiliar bed. You paid for your drinks and room and made your way up the stairs. After pulling off your hat, shirt, holster, boots, and riding pants, it didn't take long for you to fall asleep when your head hit the pillow.

You were woken up just under an hour later by the sound of glass breaking and guns firing. Jumping out of bed, you grabbed your pistol and crouched on the side of the bed opposite the door, pointing it and waiting. After waiting what felt like forever, you could hear lawmen bringing the commotion to a halt. You stayed in your position a few minutes after the saloon had become quiet again, before standing up and sliding back in under the covers. You had seen your fair share of bar fights: fists, knives, and guns, and you knew the best way to handle them was to just stay out of the way but also remain alert. Keeping your gun closer this time, you managed to fall back asleep very quickly. If you dreamed, you didn't remember them.

~~~~~~

You woke up the next morning to a beautiful stream of sunlight making its way into the room. After getting up and stretching, you slide back into your clothes and head out back to the outhouse. After relieving yourself, you made your way around the saloon to your horse. "Hey girl, how was your night?" you say, pulling an apple out of your bag and feeding it to your horse. You pull out your horse brush and begin to wipe away the past days’ grime from its brown fur. After making your way around to the other side, you see him. Baylock, Micah's horse, but instead of being hitched with yours like it was the previous evening, it was standing in front of the town's jail.

"You stupid son of a bitch." You say to yourself. As your brain starts to wash away the sleep and alcohol, you realize that he must've been part of the commotion in the saloon that past night. You mount your horse and begin to trot closer. You see two lawmen standing outside of the door.

"The man in green," --an O'Driscoll, you know-- "said the other guy wasn't in town alone." You freeze. "Says there was a woman with him. Or a girl. She was at that age it was hard to tell." You bow your hat and direct your horse in a different direction. As soon as you passed sight of the town, you kicked your feet and rushed your way back to Horseshoe Lookout. Thinking of your failed mission to find a lead, you realize that Micah has yet again found a way to make your skin burn and your fists tighten. He just had that special talent.

~~~~~~

It was a few days later when you heard that Arthur had broken Micah out, making quite a mess in the process. It was early morning, and you were helping Mary-Beth wash some clothes in a nearby stream when she told you what had happened.

"Micah just had to get his guns from some poor fool in town. Arthur says that Micah shot the guy immediately and then started shooting every lawman and even a few people who tried to get in the way of his escape." She chuckled. "I can't believe Dutch keeps Micah around. Nothing but trouble that bastard is."

"Yeah, and poor Arthur is always picking up his messes it seems." You say just as Arthur starts to walk up.

"Speak of the devil," Mary-Beth says. "We were just talking about how much trouble you are, cowboy." She has always had a thing for Arthur. You wouldn't be surprised if they'd hooked up in the past after a drunken night. If it hasn't happened yet, it was sure to one day.

"You know me, ladies, always picking fights and firing people up. I can't keep my guns holstered for two seconds without getting bored. Oh wait, that's Micah, the asshole that almost got me killed."

"How did that go, by the way?"

"Well, Y/N, I busted him out, broke the damn bars outside his cell, should've been able to get out with minimal casualties, but then our dear pal just had to retrieve his precious guns. We ended up shooting the whole damn town. Barely made it out of there alive. After we got out, he told me that he was going to hang back and try to get something to bring to camp. He called it a 'peace offering'."

"Sounds about right," Mary-Beth says as she drops the shirt she was working on into the basket with the rest of the cleaned clothes. You follow suit and stand, picking up the basket. 

"Here, let me grab that for you," Arthur grabs the basket from under your arm. "Don't need y'all doing all the work." He says with a wink. Mary-Beth giggles, you smile. "Y/N, Dutch wants you to head over to his tent. I think he might have a lead for you. Mary-Beth, I can help you hang these up." She happily skips off with him, turning her head to you to shoot you a smile.

Dutch is standing with Hosea in his tent. "If you could, Hosea, meet with Arthur later and discuss our next move. Speak with Bill as well, and I heard Uncle might have a lead, too."

"Will do, Dutch." He turns to leave, nodding at you as he passes. "Miss."

You return the gesture and walk up to Dutch. "You wanted to see me?"

"Yes, ma'am. I think I got a lead for you if you're not busy that is. A stagecoach hit, near Strawberry. I know you just returned from your trip there, but I think this will be a perfect job for you since you're so good at playing the part." He's referencing your innocent damsel in distress act. It's a classic, works every time.

"I'm not busy, wouldn't mind some fresh air away from the camp, that's for sure. Washing and mending clothes isn't really my thing."

"Then it's settled." He pulls out his map and tells you his plan. Payroll coach--should be easy enough.

As soon as Dutch is done, you say your goodbyes and head to your horse.

~~~~~~~

It was mid-afternoon when you arrived at the spot Dutch told you. You hitched your horse in the woods nearby and found a tree to sit next to while you waited. It would still be over an hour before it arrived so you figured you'd get comfortable. 

It had been about 40 minutes according to your pocket watch, the sun starting to go behind some hills in the distance. It was still early spring, so the sun set earlier than you liked. Keeping yourself occupied, you picked at the grass around you, pushed your boots around in the dirt, and watched some birds building a nest in a nearby tree. The tree started hurting your back, so you had scooted to sit criss-cross instead, imagining the native Americans sitting around their fires, beating drums, and dancing. They always seemed so happy, so at peace. So lost in thought, you didn't notice the steps behind you, snapping branches and dragging the dirt. It wasn't until you felt a presence inches from your back that your heart skipped a beat. You couldn't react in time; an arm grabbed your torso, locking your arms to your body. A hand covered your mouth. Your heart was racing, your body shifted, trying to loosen yourself, but the grip was too strong, your eyes began to water in terror. 

"Aren't you a little far from home, dollface?" the voice was deep, coming from lips right next to your ear, touching just barely. You shiver, chills running down your entire body. "A damsel like yourself shouldn't be out by herself, there are sick people out there that would just love to take advantage of such a tight, young body." The hold tightens, the strength is unreal, your body crumbles, moving closer to the ground. The weight on your back is too much. You feel tears running down your face. 

You try to say "Please. Leave me be." but all that comes out is a muffled noise coming from your throat.

The voice becomes lighter and immediately more familiar. "What was that, Y/N? I can't hear you. And are you crying?" He chuckles. 

It's Micah, that asshole. He loses his grip on you, letting you fall forward onto the ground, right into the dirt you were digging at what felt like decades ago.

"Micah... you bastard!" you wheeze. You gather the strength to push yourself from the ground. "What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

"I should be asking you the same question. You shouldn't be out here by yourself. Especially if you're going to be stealing someone else's lead."

You looked up at him, the tears had drawn lines in the dirt on your cheeks. "You can have the damn coach. And you better not try to pull any shit like that ever again. Not with me, or anyone else." You get back on your horse and begin to ride away. "Fuck you, Micah."

"I'll consider your offer." He says as you trot away. You feel heat return to your face, and your eyes begin to water once more. 

~~~~~~

The next evening is when Micah made his return. The take must have been huge because everyone was celebrating, and most of them didn't like Micah just like yourself. Although, everyone always happily invites a reason to drink and pretend that everything in the world is good. While most of the camp gathered around the fire, you stood from a distance and watched with a beer in hand. Javier was playing his guitar and Uncle was leading the others in song. Micah sat with Dutch's arm around his shoulder, holding a conversation with him and Arthur. Arthur hated Micah about as much as you did, but the fact that he was keeping himself in the conversation for as long as he was, let you know just how great that stagecoach ended up being. That should've been your prize. 

Working on your second beer, your mind started to turn. You wanted revenge on him. There was one thing you could think of that would really make him pissed, and that was confusing him, playing with his head. Turning his own tricks against him.

After everyone had started to head to their tents, you knew that soon Micah would head out. He didn't have a tent, mainly because he suffered from insomnia, but also because Miss Grimshaw refused to make him one. The fire was getting dim now, but you could still make out his figure. Once he turned to walk into the trees, you followed. He claimed a tree to lean on about 50 paces away from camp. He was facing away, so you quietly made your way up behind him, stopping about five feet behind him. He lit a cigarette and started to smoke. 

"Where's my cut?" You say, making him jump, turning to face you.

"Jesus Christ, Y/N! You shouldn't go sneaking up on people like that!"

"You're one to talk." You walk a little closer to him. "Once again, where's my cut, Micah?"

"You don't get one, you didn't earn it."

"You might see it that way, but I think I did my part. I let Dutch know what happened to you. Although, thinking back, I believe I might have left out a part." He frowns. "Yeah, that's right! I left out the part where you were playing cards with a couple of O'Driscoll boys. Maybe I should fill Dutch in on the whole story." You smirk.

Micah laughs nervously, kicking at the ground. "You know Y/N," he starts moving closer, but you hold your ground. "you really are a little twisted 'damsel in distress', aren't you?"

"Why indeed I am." He's moved so close to you, you feel his heat and smell the whiskey on his breath. His blue eyes are looking straight into your soul, but you don't let him see it."Now, my cut?"

He sticks his cigarette in between his lips and reaches into his pocket. He pulls out 50 dollars and hands it to you. "There, for all of your hard work."

You count it. Slowly. Twisting his nerves. "Hmm... I think this is a little short." You look up at him and he snarls. You reach up and take the cigarette out of his mouth and place it in your own, taking a long draw. You release the smoke directly into his face. "There, that covers it." You pat his cheek. All he does is glare at you, hard. His chest is rising and lowering faster than normal. 

"Fuck you, Y/N."

"I'll consider your offer." You say with a smile and walk away. You feel his eyes on you, but you continue to walk. Out of everything that has happened, there is one thought that surfaces above the rest. When taking the cigarette from his lips, you noticed how surprisingly soft they were. You shake the thought away, and head back to your tent to rest, a smile staying strong on your face.

#micah bell smut #micah bell x reader #micah bell #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #smut #rdr2 fanfic

[xengsu-the-devil]

See you again

-

Tags: Major Charakter death, Sadness, Heartbreak, Dutch finally wakes up but it's to late!

-

It's been a long day without you, my friend

And I'll tell you all about it when I see you again

We've come a long way from where we began

Oh, I'll tell you all about it when I see you again

When I see you again

-

How can we not talk about family when family's all that we got?

Everything I went through, you were standing there by my side

And now you gon' be with me for the last ride

BANG. It's over. Hosea got shot in front of his own eyes. He fall to the ground with a scream if pain. He shakes and then he lay his head gently down.

,,There's your deal Dutch!"

,,Hosea." Dutch whispers in disbelief.

He try to fight back the tears. He lost his friend and his lover. The love of his life! The heart, brain and soul of the gang. Everything is going slowmo for him right now. He can't belive it. Hosea's dead body laying on the ground. He wish it's all a bad nightmare. But it isn't. It's real. It's his fault. It's Micah's fault! What did he done? Hosea deserves better. Way better. He was an Outlaw but still so innocent and kind. He gave his life for Abigail. And then shots Ring trough the air. It brings Dutch back on earth. And he start shooting too.

So let the light guide your way, yeah

Hold every memory as you go

And every road you take

Will always lead you home, home

A while later they are on the roof. And BANG another shot. This time it's Lenny. He fall lifeless to the ground to. Fuck. What have he done!? He feels like a monster. But they have to flee. After a while they are hiding in a building. Dutch still fighting against the tears. His heart is broken into million little pieces. He woke up. But way to late. It's all Micah's fault. Arthur and Hosea always said that. And they're right about it. He has to take him out. On the way to the boat late at night, Micah got shot. Luckily. Hopefully he rot in hell. Hopefully Hosea and Lenny joined the angels in heaven. He hopes that Hosea is with Bessie again. And Lenny is with them. That's his biggest wish. He always blamed Arthur for it. He said Arthur lose his faith. But it was himself that lose faith and control and betrayed everyone. Lenny and Hosea had to pay with their lifes!

2 months later they're back at Shady Belle. Dutch can finally be alone and cry. He locked himself away in his room and cry. Since three hours.

,,Are you happy now Dutch? I told ya you lose control. I told ya Micah is a rat. And you blamed Arthur for it. Had Lenny, Sean, Kieran and I really to die for you to wake up? I'm so disappointed in you Dutch." He suddenly hear Hosea's voice.

He look up. There he see Hosea. He's slightly transparent. And he has beautiful huge big white angel wings. He's a ghost angel. Probably he's only a ghost on earth and normal in heaven.

,,Hosea!?" Dutch say confused.

,,I'm so sorry. You're right. I woke up way to late. I should've let that rat rot in jail to hang instead sending Arthur after him. Right now I wish I could turn back time Hosea. I really love you. And you deserve way better. It should have been me. Who got shot. Not you. Nor Lenny or Kieran or Sean." Dutch cry.

,,It's to late Dutch. You broke my heart and I died because of you son of a bitch. At least I'm happy now in heaven. And can finally retire with Bessie, Lenny, Sean and Kieran. Even though Sean is annoying as always." Hosea answers.

,,I can only imagine." Dutch whispers.

Normally the fact that Sean never shuts up would made the two laughing or giggling under normal circumstances. But this isn't a normal circumstance. Hosea's fucking dead! And it's all Dutch's fault. As Dutch get up, and look out the window, he see how John, Mary-Beth, Josiah and Arthur leave with their stuff.

,,I cut them loose Dutch. They deserve better. And I tell you, when I hear that they died because if one of you or you Dutch, I make sure you die. Because of me."

And with that Hosea's gone.

,,I promise you my love. I will change. I will give us all a nice life. No more deaths and no more fights. We already lost enough. I lost you. I love you." Dutch sobs.

Will he hold his wird this time? Who knows.

#red dead redemption 2 #dutch van der linde #Hosea Matthews

[somethinwickedthiswayrides]

Animal Affinity

So I had a thought rolling around in my head, about the reader having an uncanny affinity for animals, like Fallout's 'Animal Friend' perk levels of affinity. So, this is what I came up with, this is my first ever delve into headcanon territory and I haven't been playing RDR2 for very long, so please forgive me if someones out of character.

Reader is Gender-neutral, but I wrote it with a female in mind. Sorry if it's a bit long, I wanted to include everyone in camp and use different animals.

They always said they had this strange way with animals, they couldn't really explain it, but animals never attacked them and didn't really spook around them. No one really believed them until they saw it.

Cougar;

Arthur, Sean, Javier, and you were out on a scouting trip of a house not to far north of the Black Bone Forest, they decided to make camp for the night and were joking around and trying to not knock Sean's loud mouth out.

You were all knocked out of your reverie when you suddenly felt hot breath on the back of your neck which was soon followed by a powerful bunt to your shoulder. The looks on your partners faces were concerned as they slowly reached for their sidearms.

You slowly turned and there was a cougar blinking at you. With a small smile you reached up and gave the lesser cat some scratches and the cat slowly came around and plopped its entire front half into your lap, gently purring.

Sean wanted to scream, but was too confused as to the how and why of a cougar laying in your lap like that was where it belonged. He settled for muttering 'what the fuck' under his breath.

Javier stayed tense the entire time, never really quite sure if the large cat was going to try and maul them or it just wanted petting.

Arthur slowly pulled out his journal to sketch out the scene before him, having never been this close to an animal that usually wanted to claw his face off.

You and the other hand were used to this and simply let the large cat lay in your lap while you gave all the love and attention the cat wanted, before it decided it was enough and stalked back off into the forest, leaving behind the small camp.

Wolf;

You, Lenny, and John were having a small camp out after a few successful stagecoach robberies, and were taking a break before heading back into camp. Everyone was joking and having a good time when a whimper caught everyone's attention. You all turned and saw a limping lone wolf, what looked like porcupine quills were sticking out of its leg and around its mouth.

"Oh, you poor thing," you exclaimed, "here, let me help you." With that you left your spot and slowly made your way to the miserable pup, ignoring John and Lenny's whisper shouts.

They watched in awe as you calmed the wolf and as gently as your could, plucked out the offending quills. The wolf, quite happy that it no longer had those painful irritations stuck in it, wagged its tail and licked your face, trying to worm his tongue in your mouth in what it thought was a proper thank you.

Lenny, having heard about the cougar incident, was a bit more relaxed then John, but still wary as this was a predator, and didn't want anything happening to you.

John, on the other hand, was nearly having a panic attack. The memories of his last tussle with wolves still fresh in his mind, and he kept his hand on his pistol, just in case the wolf wanted to make you a meal.

Deer;

You and Charles were out in the woods near camp, planning on bringing in a couple deer for Pearson. As he helped you off your horse, he noticed a doe with her fawn, and gently smiled at the sight.

Charles smile only grew when the young fawn bounded over and nuzzled your hand, looking for scratchies before delightedly prancing back to its mother, its little tail waggling all the while.

Bear;

Arthur had told you where Micah was after he broke him out of the Strawberry jail, and after the ensuing fire fight. Somewhat irritated with him, but also wanting to be sure he didn't die on you just yet, you pack up a few supplies and went out to where he was located. It took a little while, but, you did end up finding him.

You put up with his needling and teasing about being worried about him, but soon you two found yourselves in somewhat of a pleasant conversation. Which was soon stopped when he noticed something entering camp, you looked over and it was a small bear cub. You shushed Micah and told him not to worry as the little cub waddled over, gave you a sniff before deciding that your lap was a great place to take a nap.

You shrugged and gently pet the cub and picked right back up where the conversation had been left, as if you didn't have a bear on your legs. Micah, confused and a bit unnerved continued the conversation and once actually reached out to pet the little bugger himself.

The conversation abruptly cut off once again, this time with a more panicked expression from Micah, mama bear had decided to show up. Once again you shushed the blond man as mama walked her way over to you, gave you a nudge and then gripped her cub by the nape of it's neck, causing the little one to let our a cry of indignation about being ripped away from its comfy bed. Before she nudged it along to wander out of the camp.

Micah had just stared, slack jawed, at the display, there was no need for a fight, no need to defend, just a mother picking up her child from a babysitter. He spared a glance at you, smiling at the bears, and decided that you were either incredibly brave, or exceedingly stupid. Either way, he was slightly afraid of you now.

Wild Horses;

You and Kieran were out having a little ride, since Branwen very seldom left camp, as Kieran very seldom left camp, you decided that a little run around in the open plains would be good for the both of them. So with a few harsh words toward Kieran from the other camp members about keeping you safe, and Dutch's farewell you two set off.

The ride was peaceful, and quiet, there was little in the way of conversation as Kieran wasn't quite sure how to approach you just yet. You had stopped out in near Emerald Ranch, in the little patch of wetlands, to let the horses run around in the water and play, while you two were resting nearby.

There was then a sound of hooves as a herd of wild horses had galloped up to the water for a drink, not too far from you. You gave a smile and stood, making your way to the herd.

Kieran watched amazed as the horses didn't spook from your presence, to the point that you could walk right up to them and give them pats and scratches, cooing at how pretty they were, before pulling out some sugar cubes from your satchel to feed them. The sight put a soft smile on his face as to how calming you were that even the most skittish of horses trusted you.

Snakes;

Nearly all the members of the gang were out on jobs that day, barring the women, little Jack, Pearson, Reverand Swanson, Dutch, and yourself. Karen had just walked up and was relieving you of an all night guard duty. You smiled in appreciation as you turned to make your way back into camp, before you and Karen had to go bolting in at the sound of Tilly and Abigail screaming.

Turns out little Jack had managed to catch himself a snake, and was holding his squirming target trying to show his mother, who was less than pleased. You took a quick look and sighed a breath of relief, deducing that it was a harmless corn snake, though where in the world Jack found it was beyond you.

With a chuckle you gently took the small snake from his grasp, and the little guy coiled around your hand and wrist, content in the warmth you were providing, rather then Jacks tight grip. While the little guy was calming down and warming up you had to gently explain to Jack that he couldn't just pick up a snake he finds, he was lucky that this one wasn't venomous.

Jack nodded and you showed him how to gently pet the little snake, and it gave a happy little wriggle. Which caused Jack to giggle.

Susan, Mary-Beth, Abigail, Tilly, and Molly were too freaked out to really care much about you holding the snake and simply wanted the offensive little bugger out of the camp.

Karen was laughing boisterously about the commotion.

Sadie simply chuckled and said it could've been worse.

Pearson was impressed that the wriggling and hissing little thing had calmed down as soon as you got hold of it, chuckling to himself as he went back to work on the food preparation.

Dutch didn't care too much and simply wanted the thing gone so the women would calm down.

Swanson... He was still dead asleep, having missed the whole thing.

Fox and Coyote;

It was a rather quiet day in the Van der Linde camp. Most everyone was in camp, quietly taking a day of rest and doing their own thing, while others were hard at work doing their chores. Uncle was trying to teach you how to play poker, trying being the key word here.

Everyone's head perked up when Pearson gave a shout and they caught sight of a little fox and coyote leaping around camp and playing. Pearson was trying to shoo them away, but they weren't having any of it.

You gave a small chuckle and got up from the table and cooed at the duo, they couldn't have been more than a couple years old, still young and playful. By this time most everyone had shared their experiences with you and wild animals, and there were a few rumors floating around that you were a witch. But you didn't pay those no mind.

You had managed to catch and calm down the rambunctious pair and called Bill over to give you a hand. Bill, unsure as to why you needed his help, walked over and let out a small grunt of surprise when you plopped the fox down in his arms. The little canine wriggled and squirmed in his arms until you sweet talked it and gave it a little head scratch, and it gave a huff and settled down.

Bill had stared at the little fox in his arms, while you were picking up the coyote, and smiled to himself a bit. Reaching up to scratch at its neck, the little one seemed quite happy with this and snuggled into his arm and chest. Bill was sure he'd melt into a puddle on the spot.

Strauss had watched the goings on from a distance, but didn't seem to care too much before returning to his ledger.

Uncle gave a laugh and made a comment about being able to tame even the mightiest beast. Causing a few laughs, and a couple blushes within the group.

Dutch, now having his full attention, was wondering just how far your affinity with animals could go and if you were able to get them to follow basic commands.

Everyone else simply wanted the little trouble makers out of camp.

Birds;

Another quiet day in camp, it had been rather peaceful as of late so everyone was enjoying it while it lasted. You had taken up your usual feeding spot to watch and listen to the various birds in the area. Several people poked fun at you for feeding the birds, but you paid no mind to it. You were joined by Hosea and Swanson, though they did less feeding and more watching.

Swanson relaxed against the tree with closed eyes and a cup of coffee, enjoying the soothing chips.

Hosea gave a small smile as he watched some of the smaller cardinals resting on your fingers while your palm was covered in seeds. The birds literally eating out of your hand.

All in all, a rather peaceful time. Until a crow with something in it's beak landed by you feet, dropped it object and cawed until it was sure it had your attention, jolting Swanson and Hosea out of their peaceful stupors.

Once the crow had your attention it rolled the object toward your feet before hopping off to partake in the seeds. With a raised brow you reached down and picked up the object, wiping it off, and your jaws dropped. The little crow had gifted you a small gold nugget.

You all looked at each other, and with a small smile you realized that maybe feeding the birds wasn't such a bad idea after all.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #arthur morgan #micah bell #john marston #mary-beth gaskill #susan grimshaw #dutch van der linde #animals #reader #hosea matthews #reverend swanson #lenny summers #abigail marston #jack marston #javier escuella #Sean Macguire #bill williamson #charles smith #Sadie Adler #Uncle #karen jones #tilly jackson #Leopold Strauss #molly o'shea #Pearson #imagine #rdr2 imagine #somethinwickedthiswayrides #kieran duffy

[johnmarstoned]

Could I request Micah and Elizabeth just spending time together having some SFW fun (that could possibly lead to NSFW fun) together?

Thanks for the request! This is very much Micah’s idea of fun, fair warning. This got way long because I’ve also posted it on AO3.

NSFW content ahead! 🔥 💕 

Micah and I have gotten into the habit, when we can get away with it, of setting up our own little camps at some remote location and meeting there and staying for a night or two, when we can think of a good enough excuse to be gone for so long. It can’t be too often, because we know people will start to notice if we are both gone, together, at the same time.

For Micah, it’s easy, he can say he’s following a lead, robbing some folks, whatever he wants - there are only so many times I can pretend I’m tracking down some speedy mare before they start to wonder why I never come back with more than a flush on my face and bruises on my knees.

On this particular day, we don’t bother with a camp, we take a chance on a town and hope no one else has decided to make the long ride from Clemens Point to Valentine for some reason. I doubt they will, the boys seem to be too busy with that business in Rhodes to bother with that kind of a ride. As pretty as our current camp is, I do miss it the fresh air, as I am not a lover of the heat. 

We arranged to meet in Smithfield's, and I find him there, leaning on the bar and working on a whiskey. It’s busy, it being the evening, the tables full of folks drinking and eating, the piano playing jauntily in the background.

“Not drunk already are you?” I ask, leaning beside him. He looks down at me with a little look of surprise.

“Not many people can sneak up on me, ya know?” He says, and rests an arm gently round my waist. “Coulda slit my throat and I would never have known.”

“More likely to have picked your pocket.” I say, enjoying his closeness and the leather smell of his jacket.

“Nice girl like you? Not some kinda outlaw are ya?” He smiles down at me, clearly feeling playful.

“No, but I know a couple.” I catch the busy bartender’s eye and mouth the word ‘bourbon,’ to which he nods.

“Bad men?” Micah squeezes my hip a bit. “Scary, mean types?”

I fight the urge to laugh and reach up to touch his moustache.

“They like to think so, but I think they’re all soft as teddy bears.”

“Hmm.” He looks down my body, the opening of my blouse, holding me a bit too close for polite company as he likes to do when he can get away from it. “Can you hurry up and get this woman a drink?”

At Micah’s order, I get my drink quick enough, and we find a table in a quiet corner of the saloon, getting pleasantly tipsy and laughing so much you could almost mistake us for a real couple.

“Y’see, I get so used to seein’ you with them horses I forget that you ain’t as innocent as you look.” He says, after I tell him a story about slipping the watch out of the pocket of a man I was speaking to face to face.  

“Well, it’s been a while since I got myself in trouble, I could forget as well.” I sip my drink. “Not that I think I’m so innocent looking.”

“Of course you are.” Micah says, leaning forward on his elbows. “With that pretty blonde hair and those big ol’ eyes.” He reaches across, completely unabashed, and puts a hand on my jaw. “Only giveaway that you’re a bad girl is these lips, they were just made for sin.”

“Micah…” I feel my cheeks flush and I shake my head. The way he looks at me leaves no question what he’s thinking about sometimes, what he wishes he were doing to me. It makes me tingle and think just as filthy thoughts as I’m sure he does.

His hand leaves my face and he looks amused that he’s managed to make me blush.

“Am I going to be regaled with any tales from your rough and tumble teenage years any time soon?” I ask, because although I’ve heard him mention his father and brother in passing, he’s never really gone in to more detail than what I’ve heard him telling the men round the campfire. His father does not sound like a pleasant man. 

A look crosses his face, rather serious, before he breathes out a small laugh and shakes his head.

“Wouldn’t wanna ruin the mood, be honest with ya.” He says. “Not nearly as fun as your stories.”

I nod in understanding, choose not to push it, and finish off my drink. I suspect that there’s good reason Micah doesn’t discuss his past with me directly - it makes me wonder just exactly how nasty it was. 

“You want me to get us another drink so I can tell you about when I stowed away on a train for a week?”

“I very much do, you little reprobate.” He says, and hands me a dollar bill for the drinks.

Micah watches every move I make, and I like it, he’s the only person whose scrutiny makes me feel good rather than on edge. I go to the bar and make our orders; I don’t think we’ll be here much longer, even after all the time Micah and I have been doing this, it still doesn’t take much to make us need to have each other.

I make the order at the bar, and wait for our liquors to be poured.

“Fine lady like you shouldn’t be paying for your own drinks.” A man leans on the bar beside me, wearing nice clothes and a bowler hat. “Let me get that for you.”

“Actually, I-”

“No, no, I won’t hear anything about it, you put that money away, pretty girl.” He’s standing a little bit too close to me. A young man, fairly handsome, I suppose, but not one I have any interest in, especially when I know Micah will be watching this whole interaction very closely. 

“Sir, I’m quite happy to pay for my own drinks, if I could just-” I try to get the bartender’s attention, arm outstretched, but he blocks me off with his body and looks me up and down. He seems a little bit drunk, and doesn’t seem to notice my increasingly annoyed expression. Or care about it. 

“Look, just let me buy you a drink, okay? Ain’t seen anyone who looks like you come in here before.” He puts a hand on my waist, and I feel myself freeze, torn between batting it away and most certainly catching Micah’s angry attention, and telling him straight where to stick it.

When I open my mouth to speak, he shushes me, and his hand slips from my waist to my ass and squeezes lasciviously. My blood runs cold with shock at the horrible intrusion, and I feel the rage beat in my chest. 

“How fucking dare-” I begin, but I don’t get to finish, because no sooner is Micah’s hand on the man’s shoulder than he his clocked very hard across the face and falls heavily to the ground. I jump back out of his way, shocked, and Micah pulls the man up by the shirt scruff and punches him again with a meaty thunk.

“Hey! Take it easy!” Someone yells, as everyone backs up out of the way of the fight. If ‘fight’ is what it can even be called, Micah isn’t letting the groper up while he lands punch after punch on his face, his nose and lips bloody.

“Touchin’ someone else’s woman you little fuckin’ shit?” Micah sounds wild, enraged, probably more than I’ve ever heard him. “Fuckin’ kill you right here.”

I’ve never seen him fist fight before, and he’s just as vicious as I’ve been told. 

My shock wears off enough or me to realise that people are definitely running to get the sheriff, and Micah beating this guy to death in the middle of the saloon cannot end well. I catch his arm on its swing back, and do my best to hold it firm.

“Micah.” I say, hopefully loud enough for him to hear my voice over his rage. “He gets the message.”

For a beat, he tries to pull his arm out of my grip, but then he looks at me; it seems to take him a minute to recognise me, but he loosens his hold on the man’s shirt and lets me step between them and put my hands firmly on his chest. “We have to go.” I say, making him keep his eyes locked with mine to ground him to reality.

“He touched you.” He says, voice harsh.

“And now he’s unconscious and we have to go before the Sheriff comes.”

“Get that madman outta here!” The bartender yells, and I don’t give Micah a chance to respond, I take his raw hand and pull him towards the door with all my strength, hope to god he can just leave it at this.

I’m stopped though, by one of the very lawmen we are trying to avoid, who has just walked through the swinging doors.

“What the hell is going on in here?” He yells to the room, adjusting his white hat.

“That guy beat the holy hell out of this one!” The bartender points between them, and I look back at the scene. It doesn’t look good, splashes of nose blood on Micah’s shirt, bruises on his knuckles and a man lying on the ground with his face beaten to a pulp.

“Woah, woah, woah, I’m sure we can figure this out.” Micah holds up his hands, voice changing from raw rage to light amusement.

“We can talk about it in at the jail, come on now.” The lawman grabs Micah’s arm firmly, and starts to tug him away. Panic sets in my stomach - I absolutely cannot explain to Dutch how Micah managed to get locked up in Valentine when we were supposed to be all the way down south, and why I had been with him in the first place. Why I had lied to Dutch about where I was going to be. 

“Sir, you don’t have to take him in.” He drags Micah out of the saloon into the night and I follow. I really hope Micah doesn’t reach for his gun, a dead lawman would not help anything. “Please, he’s my husband, things just got out of hand.”

“Can’t be causing trouble like that, ma’am, man could have died. Might still die.”

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” I say, thoughts racing with what I can actually do to stop Micah being locked up or doing something reckless, as I know he can tend to do in these situations.

The plan isn’t the best, but it’s the only one I can think of at short notice. I size up the lawman; he’s not very tall, doesn’t look particularly muscular. I pick up my pace so I’m facing them and he stops walking.

“Get out of my way please, ma’am, your husband can wait in the cells until we find out if that poor guy’s gonna wake up.”

“I just wanted to apologise, in advance.” I say. A confused look passes his face before a land a knee to his balls that sends him doubling over, enough so I can punch him with all my strength and knock him into the wet mud.

It has been a while since I’ve punched someone, so the plain runs from my knuckles to my wrist immediately, but I am glad to know I haven’t completely lost it. 

“Come on.” I say to Micah, who is looking down at the lawman with a stunned expression. 

We don’t have time, I take off running to the closest horse, Baylock. “Micah, come on!” 

His dark laugh follows me as we make a run for the horse, shouts ringing out as people realise what I’ve done. He gets on first and pulls me up after him; adrenaline runs through my body, pulsing in my neck. I put my arms round his waist and hold on for dear life as he sets off fast pace.

The shouts ring out behind us, with my fingers in my mouth, I whistle my horse to follow. Micah’s still laughing, whooping even, but I can hear the sound of hooves on the dirt behind us that aren’t just my own horse.

Heart hammering in my chest, I look back over my shoulder to see the lawmen following us on horses, 

“Fuck, Micah, we’re being followed!” I shout over the sound of the whipping wind and the gallops. My hair obstructs my face when I look back again, but I can see two men on horseback on our tail as Micah rides out of the town.

“I know, don’t you worry sweetheart.” He sounds entirely unfazed, kicking up speed and whipping round a corner so fast I feel like I’m going to fall off. My fingers dig into his leather coat and I press my forehead into his back, barely daring to look back.

We leave the road and ride into the trees, and I have to close my eyes because I have no idea how he’s a good enough horseman to avoid us smacking into a single one. 

The sound of those following us recede, until all I can here is the steady gallop of my own horse behind us. 

He rides for a bit longer, until we have definitely lost them, and stops up on a grassy hill somewhere near the river. The sun has set now, and the landscape is cast in the eerie white glow from the moon. 

“Fuck!” Micah yells when we finally stop, my hair a blown out mess and absolutely out of breath. “Fuck, that was good!”

Micah is hyped up in a way I haven’t seen him be before. We don’t ever go on jobs together, but this is what everyone tells me he’s like. Crazy, out of control. I’m still in a daze, so he lifts me down from Baylock and grabs my arms.

“Now that was fun.” He says, and laughs that chesty laugh again. “You were…” He shakes his head like he can’t find the words. “You were a fuckin’ dream.”

Micah puts his hand on the back of my head and kisses me hard, looping the other arm around my waist.

“I am hard as a rock, watchin’ you do that.” He puts his hands on my ass and picks me up, clearly fuelled by adrenaline himself given how easily he does it. I can feel that he wasn’t lying, pressing against me while my legs are wrapped round his waist.

“Don’t you feel good? Just goddamn alive?” His voice is a growl.

He’s right, I do. My pulse is hammering and my knuckles hurt, but when I get my breath back, I do feel good, I feel great. Energised, excited, just the right amount of scared.

“Who knew you could throw such a punch?” He kisses me deep and I tighten my legs around him to press myself against his erection. “I - shit I gotta have you right now.”

Micah falls to his knees, and drops me clumsily on my back, making me laugh. He’s laughing too, breathlessly, as he pulls my skirt up to my waist and puts his hands on my thighs.

“We gotta do this more often.” He says, voice a rough grumble. “Like seein’ you as a bad girl.”

“I can tell.” I say, pulsing between my legs and nipples pressing against my blouse. It’s almost too much, I’ve barely gotten my breath back from the escape and he’s already looking at me like I’m his next meal. 

Micah pulls off my bloomers over my boots, wasting no time. I am fully aware that we are absolutely in the open, in the middle of a field in the moonlight where anyone could ride by, or spot us through their binoculars.

It feels animalistic, to have done violence and now to be doing this, and I’m not sure I’ve ever been so turned on.

So what if someone did see us? Rutting like hounds in the wild? I know, really, I should be horrified by the idea, but I’m not, I quite like it. 

Micah doesn’t immediately unfasten his trousers like I think he will, instead he bunches my skirt up around my waist, takes off his gun belt and lies on his stomach to put his face between my legs and my knees on his shoulders.

“Shit!” I call out into the open, and my hands scramble to grab handfuls of grass. He buries his tongue inside me, making an obscene noise, before sucking on my clit hard and making me moan desperately. My head falls back and my back arches so I press against his mouth. 

“That’s it…” He licks me a few more times before moving back up my body and working on his belt buckle. I shudder, desperately needing to have him inside me. I look at him, his eyes glazed and his chest rising and falling in deep breaths.  He looks so amazed by me, it makes me surge with pride.

With his belt and trousers open, he lays back over me and kisses me deeply. His hat is till on, ridiculously.

He teases the tip of his cock against me just for a moment before pushing all the way inside, and I feel winded, a shocked moan leaving my mouth at feeling of being so instantly filled.

“Fuck, fuck, you feel so good every damn time.” He says through his teeth. Micah buries his face in my neck and thrusts in and out of me; I knock his hat off with one hand and knot my hand in the back of his hair.

“So do you.” I moan, completely surrendering to the pleasure of the way he fucks me, harder and faster than usual. I cannot get enough, it feels so good. His hair is dry in my hand, I pull it a bit and listen to him grunt and groan in my ear.

Somewhere in my dizzy pleasure, I look over his shoulder at the starry sky, and wonder if this is actually the best I’ve ever felt. Micah makes me feel so damn... Special. He looks at me like he can’t believe I’m real and he touches me like it too. 

I might love Micah.

And this is how I realise I might love him. After running from the law, while he fucks me on the dirt with our horses waiting at the nearby tree-line. Micah puts a hand on my knee and spreads my legs wider so he can get even deeper.

“Don’t stop.” I whine.

“Ain’t gonna.” Micah grunts. “Wish I could fuck you every damn second of the day.”

“Mmm.” I moan, and I can already feel myself getting close; his voice is running through me, rough and lusty.

The heel of my boot digs into the back of his leg; his jacket arms must be covered in grass stains with the way he’s holding himself up over me.

“Micah, Micah.” I release a handful of grass to lift his head from my shoulder to make him look at me. I’m close to the edge, and I want to feel his tongue on mine and his moustache against my lip. He groans into my mouth, slurs my name, and it pushes me over, the climax hitting me hard, making me shudder. I clench around him, it almost makes the fullness too intense; all I can do is hold onto him as the pleasure wracks through me, while I pulse around him.

“Shit,” he curses. His forehead presses against mine and a hand reaches up to cup my jaw. Micah’s thrusts are stuttered, clumsy, so I know he’s close. “Fuck, I fucking love you.”

His eyes screw shut when he comes inside me - mine fly open, distracted from the feeling of his grip and his come filling me up by what he just said. He grunts out his release, cock hitting deep, and doesn’t loosen his tight hold on me until it’s over.

My breath is shaking and my heart hammers in my chest. I’m not sure if he even knows what he said. When he opens his eyes, panting, I fix my face into one that isn’t so shocked and give him a peck on the lips, my cheeks glowing.

“You tired out yet?” He asks, pulling out with an almost pained grown and fastening up his trousers. I sit up on my elbows and try to figure out exactly how I feel. Certainly not tired out - if anything, I feel more energised then I had before.

“Not yet.” I say, with a smile and a shake of my head. ‘Do you know you just told me know love me?’ I want to ask, but I don’t. A man is liable to say a lot of things when he’s about to come, even if that had never come out of his mouth before.

“Good, me neither.” He chuckles a bit and finds his hat and gun belt on the ground while I pull up my bloomers and fix my skirt. “Saw a camp of O’Driscoll’s on my way here, not far off.”

“Oh yeah? And what about it?” I raise my eyebrow, he takes my hand and pulls me to my feet.

“Thought we could rob ‘em… Or just kill ‘em. Anything you want.” He seems to find it hard to stand still, not at all exhausted and wrung out like he usually is after we fuck.

“Why, you wanting me to go on a little tear with you?”

“Ain’t we already started one?” He grins, taking my hip in hand. “Night’s still young, sweetheart.”  

I consider him for a moment. It has been a long time since I’ve done this kind of thing, had this kind of wild night. Said wildness dances in his eyes and the smirk on the corner of his mouth, like he’s daring me. This is Micah’s favourite kind of entertainment, I can tell, and it draws me in, my soul be damned.

“You got a gun?” He asks, and I shake my head. Micah makes a small grumble of disappointment.

“Could borrow one of your revolvers…” I suggest, looking down at the two guns holstered in his belt. Micah looks surprised for a moment, and he considers me for a long time, that penetrative stare that I can hardly handle.

He takes one of the revolvers and twirls it round his finger, second nature, before nodding at me to hold out my hand. I do, and he places it in my palm; his fingers linger on my skin.

It’s heavier than it looks, as guns always seem to be, well-worn with a painted red skull on the grip and the words ‘Vengeance is hereby mine’ messily carved into the barrel. I run my fingers down the metal, reverently, almost, because I know what these guns mean to him and I can’t believe he’s actually letting me hold it like this.

“Pretty.” I say, sending him a small smile. Micah is watching me very closely, a look on his face I can’t quite place.

“You-“ He clears his throat, which sounds a bit dry. “You look good holdin’ it.”

I breathe out a small laugh, even though he sounds very sincere, and to break the tension in the air, I pose with it, holding it out with my arm outstretched and pointing it at the tree-line with one eye shut.

“Do I look like Black Belle?” I ask, thinking about that cigarette card I’d seen a while back.

Micah looks at me for another long moment again, before shaking his head.

“No, sweetheart, you look like a whole other level of trouble.” His voice is a low rumble, and even in the dark, I can see the intensity with which he looks at me. 

I lick my lips before bringing the revolver to my lips and gently kissing the tip of the barrel. In the feet between us I hear the shaky, raspy breath he breathes. “You love trouble.” I say. 

After another beat, he steps closer to me, but doesn’t touch me again yet.

“I absolutely fuckin’ do.” 

#micah bell #micah x elizabeth #micah fic #rdr2 fic #fanfic #fanfiction #request #Anonymous

[takerfoxx]

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power, Season 4, Episode 11, First Impressions!

This is all going to end in tears. Again.

So! Here’s everything I saw coming:

King Micah being on Beast Island

Entrapta not being in danger but actually thriving

Glimmer joining forces with Light Hope to gain control of the core energy

Scorpia and her runestone being the key

Here’s what I didn’t see coming:

Beast Island itself

So hey, with Beast Island being hyped for a couple seasons now, I was expecting it to be kind of like the jungle equivalent of the Crimson Waste. You know, all cartoonified prehistoricy with random bones, volcanoes and geysers everywhere, dinosaurs probably, and semi-feral tribes made up of those imprisoned there.

Instead, what we got was so much scarier. It kind of reminded me a little of Nightmareland from Little Nemo in Slumberland (anyone else remember that?), a horrific place corrupted by the First Ones’ dumped tech, where a never-ending signal slowly drains your will to keep going until you succumb and become part of the island itself.

Yikes.

Fortunately, King Micah is alive after all! I mean, the AU where he suddenly seemed to regain his memories right before disappearing did sort of confirm it, and Beast Island is pretty much the only place he could have been. Though I wonder how much the Horde knows about him being there. Shadow Weaver seemed to think he was dead. Was she lying or was Hordak keeping her in the dark as well? Hell, maybe not even he knows that Micah is there.

Regardless, Micah’s done pretty okay for himself. Sure, he’s a little weird and addled due to having to survive all by himself on literally the worst place on the planet, separated from his family and no one else to talk to while a droning signal constantly tells him to give up. So yeah, it’s actually kind of surprising he can still hold intelligent conversations! Good going, dude.

Also, Etheria seems to have a ton of giant bugs all over the place. Are big bugs the dominant predators like big mammals are over here?

I’m curious about that signal. Is it a weapon that is malfunctioning and got dumped? A Horde addition to keep anyone from escaping? Another AI, perhaps even Mara’s Light Hope? Something totally different?

Anyway, of course Entrapta would be just fine. I mean, they dropped her into what’s essentially a First Ones’ junkyard. That’s like trying to exile a cat into a catnip field! If she had a little longer, she would have probably turned the whole place into its own self-functioning robot city! Anyway, I am so very glad she’s back.

Also, this was the pookas from the original show.

Kind of a far cry from the demon cats we saw, huh?

On Glimmer’s end, she’s pretty much about to pull her equivalent of Catra activating the portal, and it will not go well. Also, Scorpia’s the key to the core energy! Remember how the Black Garnet responded to her presence in her solo episode. Well, I’m betting that Glimmer teleports her into the Fright Zone and makes her reestablish her connection to her family’s runestone. When that (or whatever they end up doing) happens, here’s what I see occurring:

Etheria going back online and is pulled out of Despondos, right into Horde Prime’s hands.

Shadow Weaver backstabs Glimmer and takes the power for herself, and either goes rogue or hands Glimmer over to Hordak or Horde Prime.

Glimmer attempts to use the core energy to destroy the Fright Zone, but it creates this season’s cataclysm.

Regardless, she’s getting captured. Yeah, I saw that picture of her and Catra locked up together, having a heart to heart. So now I’m mainly curious over who’s jail cell that is, who pulled the coup on Catra, and exactly who is in charge of the Horde when all is said and done. And oh yeah, I thirst for that scene.

That having been said, there’s been something bothering me about this season, something that’s made me like it marginally less than the previous two arcs, especially the second arc that comprised season two and three, which was pure poetry. And I couldn’t really figure for a while, but now I think I realize what my issue is.

And it’s I just miss the way things used to be.

I miss the Best Friends Squad. I miss how Adora, Bow, and Glimmer would joke, banter, bicker, fight, freak out, support each other, and watch each other’s backs. I don’t like the rift between Adora and Glimmer. I want them all to be together again.

I miss the Super Pals Trio. I miss Scorpia well-intentionally being super awkward while crushing on Catra. I miss Entrapta’s antics perplexing everyone until they end up doing something amazing. I miss Catra being the tsundere of the group.

I miss the Lab Partners. I miss Hordak trying to pull his “BWAH! I AM SUPERIOR AND YOU MUST FEAR ME!” and getting all perplexed and intrigued when it has no effect at all. I miss them working on projects together and Hordak slowly going from condescending and snotty to genuinely admiring her. I miss Entrapta being delightfully helpful in her quirky way. Yeah, I know Hordak’s evil and needs to pay for everything he’s done, but I really did get something special out of their relationship.

But most of all, I miss Angella. I started rewatching the series to pass the time at work, and just seeing Angella again really drove a stake into my heart. I didn’t realize how much I appreciated her until she was gone, and now I just want her back. Yes, I know it’s iffy over whether or not she’s really gone and might come back, and to be honest I’m not sure I want her to come back after how beautiful her send-off was, but I still really miss her.

Hell, I even miss the old Shadow Weaver! Or rather, I miss having something utterly despicable on which to focus all my hate. I know she’s up to something and will probably be back to her own tricks, but she’s been kind of neutral this whole season.

And yes, I do love DT and really like Micah, but DT isn’t around that much anymore and doesn’t really interact with people other than Catra, and Micah only just showed up.

And understand, this isn’t a criticism, it’s just an observation! Taking all those things that we loved from the previous seasons was very much a deliberate creative decision, and a good one at that! I love Catra’s mental deterioration arc, I love Glimmer’s fall into Dark Glimmer, I love all the little plots and how they’re coming together, it’s great writing!

But that doesn’t mean I still don’t miss the things that made me happy.

I will say this though: I unironically liked Swift Wind in this episode.

#she ra and the princesses of power #she ra #spop #adora #bow #swift wind #king micah #entrapta #micah #glimmer #light hope #beast island #best friends squad #super pals trio #lab partners #reaction

[doe-s-labyrinth]

Saviour

Saviour - Arthur x F!reader | Oneshot

Word Count: 5,308

Warnings: Angst, execution

They weren’t coming.

Nobody was going to come and save you - and the two weeks you had spent in that prison of a cell was proof of that.

The familiar damp, grey walls of the Strawberry jail had become home, and the little you could see out of the window bars was comforting. Two weeks in that grotty cell was enough to make anyone go insane. The little amount of food given every two days didn’t help in the slightest - and your clothes always felt wet from the constant dripping of water on the walls. The cot - now nothing could be as comfortable and homely as your bed back in the camp, but you’d somehow managed to sleep on the dingy fabric for the past few nights. They obviously hadn’t washed it in years, and you could smell every other person that had ever slept on it. The floor would have been cleaner bed if it wasn’t for the disgusting amount of cockroach carcasses you’d kicked into a corner.

Two weeks had been an absolute hell, of course you had been through worse, but the boredom you felt caused the two weeks of rotting away to be a firm contender with spending 3 days of being tortured in an O’Driscoll camp. You still had deep scars from that event, but you hadn’t told the Irishmen a word, and for that you were proud.

But at least then you were occupied. You’d had far too much time to think in that Strawberry jail cell - resurfaced memories that you’d blocked out, theories on how you could have escaped the bounty hunter that had once caught you, a comeback for Grimshaw’s relentless nagging.

Yet you couldn’t stop thinking about how stupid you had been to get caught - while wearing a dress of all things. It had become loose during the two weeks of little food and activity - a visualisation of the weight you’d lost, and the mud on the fabric had caused the outfit to become itchy and unclean.

It wasn’t like you weren’t being careful, but the increase of security in the town after Micah’s outburst had affected things. You were simply there to visit your mother’s grave - it was nearing the anniversary of her death and you’d welcomed the distraction with open arms. The tension in camp had increased after moving to Beaver Hollow, and all the secret conversations of leaving the gang was becoming heavy on your conscience. Of course you didn’t want to leave - you were all a family after all.

But the reality of playing happy families had turned stale months ago, everybody knew it, but nobody wanted to acknowledge it. The bank robbery in Saint Denis had really set a damper on everyone’s mood - and with the loss of Hosea, Dutch had no rationalisation in his plans, and it had been costly for everyone.

You couldn’t wait to get away for a while. It was originally meant to be a four day trip - head to Strawberry, visit your mother’s grave, and head back to camp. You didn’t want to leave for too long - the Pinkertons had been hot on the gang’s trail after all, and you didn’t want to abandon them. You’d told them of your plans and nobody seemed too fussed, so you didn’t wait before leaving. You had offered Arthur to come since it had been some time since the two of you had spent any time together. You’d barely seen him after he returned from Guarma, but Dutch had him doing all sorts of work. He was always busy, and you didn’t doubt that if you all still lived in Blackwater then he’d come along in a heartbeat, but things had been hectic lately and you understood that.

The entire trip had been peaceful until you entered Strawberry, and the alone time had been nicer than you thought it would, but things seemed off and the atmosphere was almost eerie. Nobody was very talkative - and for the small reserved town that wasn’t uncommon, but the uneasiness you felt was more off-putting than usual to say the least.

You’d only decided to wear a dress to visit your mother’s grave - you wanted to look nice for her, and she’d always loved seeing you in them even if they weren’t your favourite thing to wear. You’d missed her greatly, and placing some fresh flowers below her headstone was calming.

A nice drink was needed after visiting her, and so you’d decided to head to the saloon. You didn’t plan on having much, just a single bottle of beer to destress, but of course someone just had to recognise you. You could remember the interaction as clear as day, and you cursed yourself for letting it happen.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doing in a place like this?” The drunk man’s words were slurred and his was accent thick throughout his sentence.

You’d tried to ignore him, all you wanted was to finish your drink before heading to the hotel, and you couldn’t wait to take that damned dress off. But of course he had to try and get your attention once more. You felt his greasy hand on your shoulder and you couldn’t help it when your jaw stiffened.

“Let go of me.” Your voice was clear and threatening, but of course he took it as a joke. The drunk laughed and mocked your words as you took a short sip of the alcohol in your hand.

“Wait, wait - I know you!” He bellowed, his wide grin showed off his lack of teeth.

You stiffened up at his words, and what felt like a hundred pairs of eyes moved to your back from the drunkard’s loud banter. Yet you turned to him, pushing yourself off of the bar you were leaning on, and standing straight as you gazed at him with a sickly sweet smile,

“Oh, you must have me mistaken with somebody-”

“No, I know you! You were walking with those - uh, Van Der - uh, what’s his name? Van Der Loins?” His rambling mumbles cut you off and your breath visibly caught at his words. More eyes looked curiously at the mention of the well-known name, and you were frozen in your place. You were about to move to leave when someone else stood up, pointing at you as he yelled,

“Aye - I recognize 'er too! she’s one of ‘em!” He shouted, his yelling just as slurred as the man beside you.

“That Micah bastard killed my brother,” another voice shouted from the growing commotion.

Your hand shook from where it hovered by your thigh - under your dress was a handgun, but a single pistol stood no chance against this crowd and you wouldn’t trust your shot with the anxiety building in your chest. You prayed to stay calm - but your nerves were getting the better of you as more and more people joined in on the yelling. Why couldn’t Arthur be there with you? He would know what to do - he wouldn’t let this happen.

“Get ‘er!”

Your widened eyes shot to a fairly large man pouncing at you - but thankfully your reflexes were quicker as you moved to run out of the saloon. The heavy downpour drenched you within seconds as you raced out of the bar - your horse was in the stables for the night, sheltered from the storm, but maybe you could make it-

A firm grip on your bicep pulled you back into a set of strong arms that easily lifted you up - you struggled and kicked at the perpetrator as the crowd that had gathered cheered at your capture. You screamed out as your foot collided with the man’s crotch, causing him to drop you onto the wet mud on the road,

“You bitch!” He roared, his fist colliding with your cheek and sending you back into a puddle before you could get up.

The crowd swarmed you, arms grabbed at you as you yelled out, desperate to escape them.

A gunshot rung through your ears, catching the attention of the mob. They cleared a path and the town's Deputy came into view before you, his gun still raised as he took in the scene. But he must have already been informed as he shot you a sickening smirk,

“Someone’s gotta pay for the rat’s actions.”

And so they carried you to the cell and set your date to hang.

You’d learned later on that Micah had killed the Deputy’s father during his mass-shooting - and he had definitely made you suffer for Mr Bell’s actions. The first week had been full of beatings that you were sure weren’t allowed, but the Sheriff would turn a blind-eye whenever they happened. Bruises littered your skin, but the lanky man’s punches were no match when compared to an O’Driscoll’s, and for that you were thankful.

The long wait period between your incarceration and your execution date was surprising, there was only one other man in the jail when you had arrived, and he had been hung two days after your entrance. Jail’s didn’t usually wait - they liked to have a free prison if they could, but you bet the lengthy period had something to do with the Deputy’s ‘payback’. Nobody ever answered when you asked about it, but you had a feeling that they were using you as bait. If they wanted Micah himself then they would be sore out of luck, he didn’t like you very much after you and Arthur became official, but at least this gave more time for word to spread about your incarceration.

The thought that you and Arthur were even together still made you smile, even if it had been a year. You couldn’t deny that the relationship had been rocky lately. The reappearance of Mary in Arthur’s life had set you on edge, and you were uneasy even with Arthur’s endless reassuring.

'We’re just friends’, his words rung in your head like a ghost’s whisper. You wanted to believe that, but you knew their past together, and that Arthur had never really gotten over her. The night’s he’d stay up after he saw her again worried you, and his denial of your comfort had hurt.

The two of you hadn’t been very close since you saw him with Mary in Saint Denis. He’d taken off that morning in a hurry after receiving a letter, and you’d thought little of it considering he was always rushing off to places unknown. Hosea had sent you and Charles into the city with a wagon to get some supplies, and on your way into the general store you’d spotted Arthur. His presence had brought a smile to your lips, and you were about to call out to him until you saw a giggling Mary at his side, her arms clinging onto his.

It felt like you’d been stabbed when you saw them, and Arthur looked the happiest he’d been in months. They didn’t notice you as they walked down an alley into god-knows-where, but you still stood frozen on the pavement, biting back tears and chewing on your lip.

Charles had noticed your shift in mood when you were leaving, but you didn’t spill a word of what you’d seen despite your friend's prying. You didn’t speak about it to anyone for weeks until Abigail pulled you aside one night and made you confess. You’d been acting like a zombie ever since you’d seen the couple, and Arthur hadn’t noticed your upset demeanour with all the time he’d spent out of camp. Those who had noticed had been worried, and Abigail had had enough of your moping.

With a bottle of whiskey and your best friends comfort, you spilled your guts. Abigail listened and offered you her solace - you had to stop her from storming over to Arthur and giving him a piece of her mind. But your mood brightened after that weight had been partially removed from your shoulders, but then the bank robbery happened, and Arthur went missing.

The time without him had let you think about the situation with a clear head - or as clear of a head as you could have with the amount of chaos. You'd managed to convince yourself that Mary would stay out of your relationship - that you would believe Arthur for now. You didn't want to lose him - he was one of the best things that had ever happened to you.

You were the first to greet him when he finally came back and found you in Lakay - even if the two of you had been distant before it happened, his complete absence was a horrible time. You had run outside when you heard Sadie call his name, and he was barely off the stolen horse before your arms were wrapped firmly around his torso. You couldn’t help but cry into his chest when you felt him hug you back - and for a second, everything felt whole again.

‘I’m here now, don’t cry, Sweetheart.’

You'd spent the entire night of his return together, and it was one of the best you'd had in a while. He’d held you so tightly, like he never wanted to let go of you again, and you gladly returned his feelings.

Your brain would always trick you into thinking he was laying in the cot beside you when he was gone, but when you’d reach out for him all you’d feel was the chilly swamp air. And now it was the same once again. You’d imagine that he was right there with you. You could imagine his strong arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer whenever he felt a chill in the night. His hot breaths on the back of your neck, and his snoring that never really bothered you. You even missed the way his beard would brush against you whenever he let it grow out, and the way he would always whisper sweet nothings to you whenever he thought you were asleep.

But now you were alone again, tears rolling down your cheeks with nobody to brush them away.

But there was one thing you had thought of over and over again in the past two weeks. It was almost all you’d dreamed about when you could sleep, and you could only hope that the past would repeat itself.

He’d saved you when you were trapped in the O’Driscoll’s basement, beaten and bloody, and he’d killed everyone there in a rage for what they’d done to you. You would often fantasise about seeing his face through the window bars of the cell, his ever calm expression would be filled with determination to get you out, and then you would run away back to camp together and spend the night holding on to one another like you did back in Lakay.

But the wall had been reinforced after Micah’s escape, and the machinery Arthur had used in their great escape had been moved so it couldn’t happen again. A stick of dynamite would do the trick - but your time was wearing thin, and your belief in your lover was slimming.

It had been two weeks since you were put away after all, or that was what you could tell from the shift in the sunlight you could see. Your hands clung loosely onto the window bars from where you stood, gazing at the lightrays, picking at the few blades of grass you could reach.

A crash behind you caused you to jump, your arms retreating back inside the cell as your eyes moved to the commotion. The Deputy closed the cell door behind him, a large bucket of water in his hands before he put it on the floor, some of the water sloshed and spilled onto the already damp ground.

“Clean yourself up, your hanging in an hour.” his accusatory finger pointed at you as he spoke, and he was about to leave until he turned to you again, “Too bad we couldn’t’ve had more fun.” the slimy man sneered, but you refused to reply as he left, locking the door behind him and shooting you one last snide smirk.

Your breath caught in your throat when the Deputy had finally left, and your knees felt weak as you fell to the floor. Tears brimmed your eyes as reality set in - your time was up. Your shaky arms reached out and pulled the bucket of water closer to your crumpled body. The least you could do was freshen up for your big show. But you didn’t doubt that you looked a mess. Your hair was greasy and knotted from the caked in mud and your skin was bruised and dirty. The cold water stung your arms as you rubbed the dried mud off, the skin was red and raw underneath. Your teeth held your bottom lip captive as you moved to dunk your face in the icy water.

The ‘bath’ was refreshing while it lasted, and you felt a bit better about yourself when you’d finally cleaned the mud from under your fingernails. You’d even managed to wash most of the mud out of your hair before the Deputy returned, rope in his hands.

No words were spoken as you stood and willingly let him tie your hands behind your back. Your legs hurt from their lack of use as he moved you forward and out of the cell, but the relief of finally leaving the small room was enough to mask the pain.

He pushed you through the door of the jail and down the wooden steps, but you couldn’t help but smile and take in fresh air. You’d forgotten how nice the air was outside of the musty cell, and if you hadn’t already been crying then you would have teared up.

But the Deputy spared you no time before he was forcing you to walk again. Your eyes caught sight of a large crowd - and you knew that they were there for you. They were there to watch you hang, to watch 'justice' be served. Even if you hadn’t committed the crime, you were associated with the perpetrator, and they were desperate enough to watch anybody pay for their losses.

The noose was already tied and it hung like a daunting reminder of what was about to happen. The crowd silenced as you neared and the countless amounts of eyes watched your every movement like hawks as you were walked up the wooden steps and onto the stage.

Nobody spoke a word as your eyes met the crowd, searching the people for any familiar faces - the least your ‘family’ could do was be there for you in your final moments. Nothing met your gaze but the angry stares of Strawberry’s townspeople as they awaited your death.

Steady tears glossed over your rosy cheeks as you were placed to stand right behind the noose, the Sheriff cleared his throat, and your breath hitched once more as he began reading from the paper in his hand,

“Fair citizens of Strawberry...” You rolled your eyes at that - this conviction was in no way fair, but nobody would testify for you, not when they knew who you associated with, “for as long as any of us can remember, it is justice that separates us from barbary.”

Your heart ached - not at their savagery, but the fact that the last time you saw your family, nobody had been happy. Times had been so rough lately and everynody was still mourning for Hosea and Lenny. You loved them all, but none of them knew what was happening to you right now - or they did know and they just weren’t coming to help.

The Sheriff’s eyes moved to you and your heart almost stopped at their evil glint, “Yet justice itself can at times be barbaric.”

He stepped forward and addressed the crowd once more, they watched on with interest, ready for main event, “For sometimes a man is so savage, the only way to deal with him justly is by savagery. Micah Bell is one such man.”

You let out a long breath at Micah’s appearance in his script, this was unethical and inhumane, you weren’t exactly innocent yourself, but you weren’t being hung for the crimes that you had committed. You were being hung for crimes Micah had committed. But the people were desperate to see someone swing - and you were the innocent they were about to watch.

“He has murdered, robbed, stolen, escaped and abused our town seemingly with impunity. Today justice catches up with him in the form of Ms Kingston.” the Sheriff’s arm extended out towards you and the Deputy pushed you forward a step before tying the noose around your neck.

He tightened it to a point past uncomfortable and you winced as he let go, the rope digging into the skin of your neck painfully as a few more tears spilled from you eyes. You couldn’t explain the flurry of emotions that ripped through your soul as you stood, tip toed on the trap door in an effort to lessen the pain of the rope. The crowd let out a few cheers before being swiftly silenced by the Sheriff. You swallowed thickly and your teeth bit onto your bottom lip as you put on a brave face. Arthur wouldn’t be scared if he was in your position, but you were terrified. But you had to be strong for yourself - it would be over in a second, and the pain tearing through your heart would be over.

“Your sentence is that you are to be hanged by the neck until you are dead.” The Sheriff’s words held no remorse as his eyes met your pained expression,

“This is not a task we take lightly, it is not a task we enjoy, but it is a task we must carry out if our civilisation is to prosper.” The lack of emotion in his voice was a cruel irony to his words.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt the trap door beneath you move - it was only an inch, but it was a sick, taunting taste of what was about to occur, the Sheriff turned to his Deputy and another man who stood next to the lever that held your fate, “Gentlemen, are we ready?” you assumed they were as the Sheriff quickly carried on with your sentence,

“Ms Kingston,” he began, and your breathing became erratic as you prepared for what was to come - but not even the noose around your neck would compare to the pain you felt of having to leave your family behind. Your heart yearned for them and you wished they could hear your subtle prayers of goodbye, “may God, in his infinite wisdom have mercy upon your soul.”

His words burned through your ears as you were forced to stare out at the anticipating crowd, and before you could think another syllable, the trap door beneath you disappeared.

But you fell straight through, the tail of the rope hit against your shoulder, the ends blackened and burnt. You barely had any time to think as a gunshot rung out and a body fell on the stand above you, and the crowd yelled out in screams and yells, quick to run for cover and pull their own guns out.

“Stay quiet,” a voice behind you said as you felt the bindings on your hands be cut, your eyes moved to the familiar voice, landing on a focused Charles,

“Charles, oh my-”

“I know, but we have to go.” He was quick to cut your reunion short as he helped you to your feet and took hold of your wrist, pulling you down the street with him in a qucik run,

“H - how did you know I was here?” Your voice caught in your throat - you still couldn’t believe what was happening, had they really saved you? Your brain hurt from your confusion, you were so ready for your fate, yet not ready at all.

Charles pulled you behind a tree as a bullet whizzed past your bodies. Your hands held onto his arm as he kept you out of sight. You still couldn’t believe he was here - and as you watched dead bodies fall on to the street you knew there were others here too.

“When Arthur noticed you hadn't come back, he started asking around. Figured something like this might have happened, and then we caught wind of a 'well deserved hanging' happening in Strawberry,” Charles did his best to answer your question while he aimed at a man behind a crate. Yet there was little time for more questions as he rushed you from behind the tree and down the street.

Arthur met you at the crossroads, and you couldn’t help waterfall of tears that left your eyes from just the sight of him. Your heart felt like it was exploding from all the emotions that flurried inside of you, and the look in Arthur’s eyes as he saw you only caused you to cry harder. Relief and concern, worry and love - you couldn’t shake the look he shot you as you were pulled over to their hitched horses.

They’d been shouting at each other as you were pulled along, too overwhelmed to keep yourself moving as reality drew you back in,

“Come on, darlin’” Arthur said as Charles let you go so he could mount his horse. Your eyes met Arthur’s as you turned to him and your hands immediately cupped his cheeks, slightly squishing his face. You had to know he was real, and time seemed to stop as his own large hand moved up to cup yours, you’d never seen his eyes look so gentle - his expression so soft in a time of such high pressure. You wanted to leap into his arms, hug him so tightly and keep him all to yourself for the next century or two. The way your heart calmed when you were in his presence made you feel almost lightheaded and-

“Hate to ruin the moment, but we gotta go!” John's voice yelled out, completely obliterating the tender moment, but he was right. Now was not the time, and you would have plenty when you were safe.

Arthur was quick to cooperate as he helped lift you onto his Arabian before getting on himself. His arms held onto you as well as the reins and your head moved back against his chest as he raced to get you out of that hell of a town.

John and Charles were quick on your heels, but went their separate ways as you left Strawberry as to not raise any more suspicion.

“I can’t believe you came for me,” you whispered once you were safe, walking on a unused trail in the direction of New Hanover. You felt Arthur let out a heavy sigh from where you sat leaning against him. The sun was beginning its descent into the sky as you trotted on and Arthur let out a laboured breath,

“We should have come sooner.” his words were heavy and laced with so much guilt that it caused your chest to swell. Your hand reached out and squeezed his thigh in a comforting yet forgiving manner,

“Don’t - you came,” You started, your heart felt heavy, you thought he wouldn’t come and now you those thoughts forced you to carry a guilty conscience - but it was nowhere as guilty as what Arthur felt for leaving you there. “That’s all that matters.” you words were genuine and soft, bringing tears to your puffy eyes once more.

Arthur didn’t say another word until you reached Valentine, the sun had set an hour before your arrival and he left you to tend to his Arabian for a few minutes while he walked into the hotel and rented a room for the night.

Your lips formed a small frown as you moved off of Arthur’s stead, your hands brushing through her glossy coat as you tied her to the post for the night. Arthur came out after a minute and signalled for you to go inside.

“I paid for a bath,” he stood awkwardly and his eyes refused to meet your own, “I’ll bring ye same clean clothes once you're done.” He didn’t bother to wait for a response before moving to walk up the steps and see which room he'd been given.

Your eyes met the floor briefly before you walked through the halls and opened the creaky bathroom door. You could have been shown a bath or a hundred bars of gold at that moment and still chosen the bath, it looked so heavenly and the steam in the room immediately eased you.

You were quick to undress and get in, your body completely relaxing for the first time in weeks. But even with your body submerged in the warm water - you couldn’t help but think of Arthur. Wasn’t he happy to have you back? He’d saved you and yet he was acting like you were a complete stranger. Your teeth bit onto your bottom lip for the thousandth time that day - it was an effort to keep yourself from crying again, but you were already drained of tears from the emotional day you’d had. Your hand moved to your neck where it was still sore from the noose - a reminder of your almost demise.

What if he didn't come? What if he’d left you to swing? But he hadn't’t - he’d saved you - so why weren’t the two of you making up for the lost time? He was leaving you to yourself - he probably thought it was what you needed, but you’d already had two weeks without him, and that had been enough to last you a lifetime.

You cleaned yourself properly before leaving the bath, determined to get to Arthur as quickly as possible and show him how much you’d missed him. One of the bath girls handed you your clothes and it took you less than a minute to put them on. It didn’t take long after that for you to reach your hotel room, your hand hovered over the doorknob for a second - hesitating. But you’d already made your decision. You wanted to see him.

You opened the door to find Arthur sitting at the edge of his bed, his jacket hung lazily over a chair, and his head buried deep in his hands. His head shot up at the sound of you, and you slowly closed the door behind you before walking over to him.

His eyes were red and he was embarrassed as he tried to hide it from you, but your hands cupped his cheeks, forcing him to look up and meet your gaze. You knew why he was like this - it was the same with the O’Driscoll’s, and Arthur was beating himself up over it. He’d promised to never let it happen again - but it had, and this time it was much worse.

“Arthur,” your voice was full of comfort and emotion as your thumbs traced his cheekbones, “its not your fault-” you couldn’t finish as he angrily got up, frustrated with himself, he walked to the other side of the room.

“I let it happen. Two damn weeks-” he cut himself off as he took in a deep breath and tried to calm himself, his hands forming fists at his sides, “I almost lost you.” he was tearing himself to shreds over it. You watched with an even gaze as you made your way over to him, trying again.

Your hand seemed small as it held onto his large bicep, turning him gently to face you. You smiled up at him with glossy eyes, “I’m still here,” You whispered calmly, your heart swelled for this man - his eyes finally met yours as he took you in for the first time in weeks. His eyebrows were furrowed - he didn’t understand how you could just forgive him so easily when you were littered in bruises and scrapes.

“Arthur, I’m here.” Your words were filled with love as you held onto his cheek once more, raising on your tiptoes slightly as your eyes flickered between his. “I’m alright,” You spoke quietly as you held onto him, pulling him closer as you rested your head on his shoulder and hugged him tightly, “I’m alive, because of you.” You whispered and you couldn’t help but place a small kiss on his neck.

All you wanted right now was him, and as his arms slowly held you back you knew you had him. In that moment you were his and he was yours, and that’s all you’d longed for for the past 2 weeks you’d spent locked up and away from him. You’d dreamed about this moment, and now that it was finally happening, it didn’t feel real.

You both needed some convincing, so your grip on him loosened as your fingers travelled the length of his arms until they were holding onto his large hands. Your eyes stayed on his as you stepped backwards, leading him with you until you reached the bed. You let yourself fall onto it, pulling him on top of you. His eyes searched yours for any trace of hatred - but he found nothing but love as your hands moved to his shoulders and then his neck.

“I love you, Arthur Morgan.” you whispered with such purity - as if you were an angel forgiving every sin he’d ever committed. He couldn’t ask for anything more as he hovered over you, his eyes never leaving yours as he neared you. He watched as your lids flickered closed peacefully, and his followed suite as his lips found yours in a tender kiss. He was being so gentle and soft - as if he were move too quickly or too roughly then you would disappear or break.

But you needed him, and you filled the kiss with passion as you pulled him closer, onto the bed. You’d missed him so much and now you finally had him all to yourself. He held onto you so tightly as he laid you down completely on the bed, you showed each other just how much you missed one another in your embrace. He’d never been so loving and you’d never needed him so badly - but that night you were each other’s saviours.

Your lips pecked his from where you lay cuddled up beneath the blankets. Arthur was like a furnace against you and it was the warmest you’d felt in weeks. You were at ease as he kissed over the marks on your collarbones and neck before you finally relaxed in his embrace. Your eyes watched his with love and you couldn’t deny just how much you loved this man - and he felt the same way. Life wasn’t going to be perfect after this - you both knew that, but you could always relish in these moments of pure love. You would never let yourself doubt him again. He would always save you, and you would always love him.

A/N: Hello! I hope you like it - this was my first fic on here with rdr2 and jeez is it a long one. Feel free to send any requests or just send a message, I’m always here for you lovelies~

#arthur morgan #arthur morgan x reader #rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #angst #charles smith #arthur morgan x female reader #self insert #doeslabrynth #oneshot

[shippidds-new-chapter]

“There is just something about her.” - 17th October ‘19 - Fictober

Fanfic - Red Dead Redemption 2 (Chapter 3) - SFW - (Arthur x Sadie)

Warnings: Possible spoilers / Non-canon

Arthur sat on the edge of his camp bed, casually listening to the chatter around him. Molly and Dutch were finally having their heart-to-heart inside of his tent. Hosea was sitting by the fire telling another of his engaging stories to some of the younger members of their crew, all of whom listened intently to every last detail. Tilly, Mary-Beth, and Karen were battling it out at the domino table, seeing who would be the one to get out of chores the following day. He looked across the way at John’s tent where we saw Abigail stroking her hand through Jack’s hair as he slept. 

Despite being on the run from the Pinkertons, Arthur felt a sense of sanctuary descending on their base of operations. He’d monitored the mood as he always did these days and had noticed that more people were laughing, joking, and the camp itself was rather harmonious. That may have been due to the lack of a certain snake, who always managed to flare tempers. 

Micah was still in the Strawberry jail cell and even Dutch seemed to have realised that maybe it was best to leave him there. There had been a discussion before fleeing Horseshoe Overlook where Hosea had managed to convince Dutch that Micah had been bad news since joining them.

In secret, the wise old man’s theory was more than that. While out hunting the large grizzly bear they’d talked at length about Dutch, the plan, and Micah. The latter was a subject he had long been suspicious of and Arthur was inclined to agree. He hadn’t done anything good for the gang and ever since he’d joined they’d had six months of being on the run. They did, however, keep this conversation from Dutch, as their leader would be unlikely to believe them considering their lack of proof

Sooner or later Arthur knew he’d be riding into Strawberry to collect Micah, but if he delayed for long enough, perhaps he’d arrive just in time to watch the hanging. 

That thought brought a smirk to his lips. He plucked the cigarette he had been smoking from them and let himself chuckle while exhaling the plume of smoke he had inhaled. Nobody was likely to ask him what he found so funny, and even if they did he knew he could just bring up an old story about Bill making a fool out of himself. 

He reached into his satchel and pulled out his journal, preparing to write a new entry when a certain someone walked past his tent. 

“Hey, Arthur.” 

Sadie was walking back from guard duty and was heading towards the bedrolls. She tipped her hat in his direction and gave him a smile when he looked in her direction.

“Mrs. Adler.”

“How many times, Arthur. Sadie. I ain’t Mrs. Adler no more.”

“Well, you know what they say, Sadie. You can’t teach an old dog new tricks.” 

“You certainly are an old dog, Mr. Morgan. Old an’ mean. Maybe you need puttin’ down if you can’t learn no more, huh?”

Her quick, sharp reply made Arthur chuckle out loud, and choke on the smoke he’d just inhaled. 

“Well, you got me there, Sadie. Point truly taken.”

“I’m glad we have an understandin’, in that case, Arthur. Night now!” 

“Night Mrs. Adler.” 

When Sadie turned and gave him an almost playful glare while tapping the revolver holstered at her hip, Arthur smirked again. That last one was too hard to resist, but he knew to change the way he greeted her from now on. What a find Sadie Adler had been. A chance meeting at that. She’d done wonders for the group in what little time she had been riding with them. He couldn’t deny he felt a certain affection towards her; a bond even. She walked away shaking her head and Arthur opened up his well-loved journal to start writing his new entry.

“It has been a hard road since Blackwater. We’ve lost some good friends along the way. Mac and Davey. Jenny. The Pinkertons seem intent on wiping us out, yet, despite all of the hardships and losses, our group seems happy. We’ve settled down on the bank of Flatiron Lake which has made for peaceful surroundings. I went fishing with Dutch and Hosea a few nights ago, and for a couple of hours, it felt like the old days again.

For the first time in many months, Dutch seems to be himself again. He is fiery and filled with youth, and perhaps most importantly of all, he is thinking straight again. We may make it out of this alive. My hopes are that his plan will lead us out west again before the land is tarnished by further industrialisation. 

Despite everything, I feel positivity in all those around me and a sense that all is well around the camp. Mrs. Adler has been a fine addition to the group. Somehow, despite the terrible losses inflicted upon her, she continues to function. She works harder than everyone else and I have seen a more fierce side of her too. I would not recommend finding yourself on the other end of her barrel. 

There is just something about her. A sparkle in her eyes. A mind as sharp as a hatchet. I might even call myself fond of her. Perhaps soon I will ask her to ride with me again. We will see.”

#fictober 19 #fictober day seventeen #RDR2 #fanfic #arthur morgan #sadie adler #ship #non canon

[sky-daybreak]

Hi! May I please request something where Arthur finds a very young wolf pup (not knowing it's a wolf) and accidentally ends up adopting a wolf? Cut to a few months later he has a large badass™ wolf companion?

Hi lovely! You surely may, I very much hope I could write this in a way you wanted it and that it turned out well enough!

Arthur hasno hell of a clue what the puppy is doing out in the damn woods in themountains. There isn’t a living soul around for miles and after scooping the littleone up into one arm and holding it there, he rides around a bit in the hopes ofmaybe finding its owner, a cabin somewhere, maybe hear the mother look for itor hell, finding her carcass. He finds nothing though, just the usual rustlingand murmuring of the forest, mingled with the occasional stone shifting ordropping from the mountains.

Arthurlooks down at the puppy, which has fallen asleep at this point, gray-brown furstreaked with dirt. It has sprawled at a slightly awkward angle in his arm,paws going whichever way. It must have been really exhausted and possiblypretty desperate to approach a human when it most likely is a puppy born to aferal dog.

Nothingabout the puppy is like Copper, but then again, he wouldn’t want it to be.Arthur looks at the dog and thinks for a long moment, long enough that hishorse shifts and quietly rumbles at him.

“Dutchwouldn’t mind ya.” Arthur decides then. Hell, the camp could liven up witha puppy around. Little Jack certainly would be happy about it. Micah is barelyout of jail and most likely not going to show up again for a while, unless hefinds a way to appease Dutch, as he said. Everyone else would be happy aboutthe dog too.

Turning hishorse in the direction of home, Arthur gently urges it into a canter. The puppydoesn’t even stir, just snores with its nose pressed against his bicep andArthur can’t help the smile that sneak on his face. He tips his head down, eventhough there is no one around who could see it.

Looks likethey have a new family member.

“Thatain’t a dog.” Pearson gestures at the gangly young one that’s shadowingArthur’s very step. While his new dog is certainly friends with most people incamp, loves to play with Jack and sometimes he finds it lying beside Mrs.Adler, who is stroking its head and looks a little less like she’s drowning inthe dragging, rushing river of grief, it also never strays from his side for long.

Arthurglances down at his companion, golden eyes staring up at him, calm at themoment, ears pricked in attention. He looks at the too long legs and shaggyfur, that’s still looking a mix of grey and muddy, even though Arthur hasbrushed it out just a few minutes ago, after taking care of his horse.

“Thenwhat the hell’s it supposed to be?” He asks Pearson, slight sarcasm in hisvoice as he gestures to his dog. His hand ends up low enough that his fingers receivea lick and he has to bite back a smile, keeping on a straight face for the campcook. The man grumbles but doesn’t have an answer, just shoots his awkwardlygrowing dog a suspicious side-eye.

Shaking hishead, Arthur lightly taps the dog’s head and heads for his horse to go on aquick hunt for the camp. The dog follows him, sticking to his heels like ashadow and equally as quiet, despite its gangly limbs.

“That.Ain’t a dog.” John points at Arthur’s puppy - alright, not a puppy nomore, but in a way it would always be. The dog nearly reaches his hip now, furthick and still muddy gray, but soft and strong, sometimes even gleamingslightly in the sun. Intense, golden eyes stare up at him, a head broad withlethal jaws - that dog has easily taken down half the game the camp eats - allrounded with powerful, fast legs.

Arthurscratches his chin and feels torn between agreeing with Marston and telling theman off just for the heck of it.

“Can’tbe anything else.” He ends up saying, earning a look from Marston thattells him he thinks Arthur is the dumb one between them. “Told ya, foundit out in the woods, all alone, not even a dead mother nearby.”

John looks skepticalas all hell, but backs off. After all, who ever heard of a wolf running with apack of humans?

Arthurscratches his dog’s neck and the big head falls heavily against his palm with acontent sigh. Wolf, yeah right.

“Youknow.” Arthur murmurs as he stands beside Hosea and Lenny. “I thinkthat ain’t a dog.”

Hosea justbreaks out into laughter, Lenny near chocking on his sip of coffee.

“Hateto disappoint you.” Hosea says with a near impish grin as he pats Arthur’sshoulder. “But that I knew all along. I just wanted to see how long ittook you to catch up.”

Lenny nodsfrom where he tries to cough free his lungs and grin at the same time andArthur gives both of them a sour look he doesn’t mean. Hosea grins like heknows it and Lenny doesn’t look cowed in the least either. Then they look overat the lake where his not-dog is currently fishing quite skillfully. Finding itsown morning meal. The not-dog is huge, looking like a grizzlied wolf and easilythe biggest one Arthur has ever seen. Aw shit, that is a wolf, ain’t it?

“Don’ttell Marston he was right.” He murmurs and Lenny just consolingly pats hisshoulder and Hosea grins into his coffee. Well, he’ll have to take what hegets.

Sighing, hewhistles and watches a powerful, water-wet head snap up, a fat fish caught indeadly jaws. The wolf stares over and then calmly walks out of the lake,pausing only briefly to snap the fish up in three large bites and swallow itdown.

“Yeah,no dog.” Lenny agrees with a grin and then leaves, while the wolf jogsover, long, powerful legs clearing the distance in a few strides. Now that herealizes it, even Micah doesn’t fuck with his dog - err, wolf.

Crouchingdown, Arthur accepts a few licks to his face, the wolf briefly pressing itshead against his chest. Arthur sinks his hands into the fur, watching hisfingers disappear in the thick, muddy looking grayness.

“Wolf,eh? C'mon then. Let’s go hunt.” At this the wolf’s head snaps up at once,golden eyes so intense Arthur thinks this creature is something else entirely.Why it stays with him, he has no hell of a clue, but he takes it.

Arthurslowly comes to the sound of vicious snarling and the screaming of men.Somewhere, over his stuffy hearing, he can detect something like bodies hittingthe ground. He tries to move, only to realize that his head hurts somethingfierce and his lower half feels pinned.

By the timesilence rings out, he remembers the job Dutch sent him on and the ambush thatwaited him, bringing down the house with an explosion and the shooting thatstarted up just as he felt something knock him to the ground.

A wet nosefinds his cheek and the low whine he now hears stops as he groans softly. Abroad, wet tongue licks over his face until Arthur manages to open his eyes.His wolf stands above him, jaw painted red and blood splattered down its chest,darkening muddy fur to something otherworldly.

Arthurtries to say something, but the words end up as a nonsense jumble. His wolflooks up and Arthur hears the sound of hooves. A moment later, his faithfulhorse stands right beside his faithful wolf and lowers its head, reins brushingagainst Arthur’s outstretched hand. With a bit of effort, he manages to wraphis hand around it.

“Pull.”He grinds out and after a moment, his horse slowly, near carefully, starts tostep back. Arthur’s vision almost blacks out as he’s pulled out from the beamthat had fallen on him and as soon as he lies free, he has two animal noses onhim, as they assess the damage. His wolf steps back then and turns around,running off, while his horse shifts to stand closer. Maybe shield him, he hasno hell of a clue, his head hurts too much to really think and he’s soexhausted, but he knows he has to stay awake.

His horsekeeps an eye on him and Arthur fights the pull of sleep or maybeunconsciousness, he isn’t sure, until he hears someone arriving, galloping atwhat sounds neck-breaking speed. A moment later, his wolf circles him again andHosea, Charles and John lean over him. Hosea looks serious and concerned, Johncurses up something fierce, equally concerned and Charles, frowning with worry,carefully slides his hands under his shoulders to start lifting him up.

They manageto get him on his horse, Charles swinging up behind him to keep him fromfalling back down.

“Youknow.” John says and Arthur focuses on him with a bit of effort.“That’s a damn fine not-dog you have there.”

Arthur issure his brief laughter sounds quite ugly, but Marston quirks a smile in returnand then gets in the saddle as well.

The wholeride back, his wolf doesn’t leave his side, his horse entirely at ease, both ofthem moving as a team. Arthur, just before passing out as they reach camp,realizes he’s really, damn lucky.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #john marston #hosea matthews #my writing #i hope this turned out well enough! =)

[ruvikkin-art]

“Well now Arthur, I heard some rumor floatin around about you. Wanna tell me if its true or not? You really hackin up flowers?” Arthur rubbed the bridge of his nose and turned to Karen. “You can trust me, I ain’t here to judge. But everyone who knows- and people are knowin now- we all want to know who you’re coughing for. Mary-beth thought it might be her, I saw you two dancin when Sean came back.” “Karen-” “Or you coughin for Tilly? Unless you’re doin it for me which is sweet Arthur but you know that Sean and I… Well… He’d put up a fight though I don’t think it’d be much of one for you.”

“Why you act so sour all the time?” Arthur gripped the reins in his hands and wiped some mud from his face, glaring over at Micah. They had just shot up half a town, Micah making a house call in the middle of all of it for some guns, and had killed good people and lawmen just trying to get out of there. He wished he had let Micah hang, he should really drag Micah back and throw him to the lawmen and high tail out of there but he knew that Dutch would be very unhappy if Micah got out again and told him what Arthur had done.

“Yeah well you ain’t funny at all so why you gotta act like the court jester?” Micah shook his head and turned his horse around.

“Well I’m sorry cowpoke but you and me, were family now. Sons of Dutch, makes us brothers… and sometimes brothers make mistakes. Now I’m headin’ back to my camp round back of Strawberry. Come see me, maybe I can make things up to you.” Arthur gave Micah a confused look, wondering what he’d be doing going back to his own camp- and wondering when he MADE a camp since he’d been with Lenny and then in jail as far as he knew.

“You ain’t headin’ back to Dutch?”

“No, I’ve been a bad boy Arthur. I ain’t going back to Dutch til I can get him a peace offering.” Micah clicked his tongue, signaling his horse to go while before waving goodbye to Arthur.

Arthur scowled and rode off, eager to get back to camp and tell Strauss now what had happened at the Downes farm.

Pulling the bow off his horse Arthur decided to take a bit of time to hunt and practice with the bow. If he didn’t catch anything at least he could tell Charles he’d been practicing with it, maybe even convince the man to go out hunting with him sometime soon. They’d both been so busy it felt like Arthur hadn’t spoken to him since they got Sean home safe. Now with Micah out of jail and the possibility he’ll be coming back to the gang soon looming over Arthurs head he figured he may as well go all in with it. Just hoping at least he didn’t get killed by a bunch of flowers.

Arthur rode into the woods, tracking down a deer that he could tell would be good for a stew. He jumped off his horse and crouched down to follow the trail quietly. Finally when he saw the deer, Arthur lifted the bow up and aimed.

“Aim for the head or the neck, we want a good clean kill.” Arthur took in a deep breath as he thought about Charles words, trying to keep his hands steady and his mind clear but the damage was already done. Just as he pulled back to let the arrow fly his lungs ached and his throat tightened, causing him to start hacking and of course scare the deer. Hacking out a fist full of petals, Arthur cussed loudly and made his way back to his horse, climbing onto her and clicking his tongue to ride off. If he couldn’t even catch a god damn deer without being distracted and coughing then he knew it was about time for a long talk with Charles.

The rest of the ride went almost smooth, only stopping once when he got hit by another wave of petals creeping up out of his lungs so he’d almost choke. He didn’t catch anything so when he returned to camp he made a beeline for Strauss, still angry the man had taken out a loan with someone who was so ill they probably wouldn’t make it the next month and made sure to tell him so. Strauss waved it off and told him they’d get it at a later date which was fine by Arthur.

Trying to keep any attention from coming to himself Arthur decided to do some chores around the camp while he kept his eyes out for Charles around. Either Charles was actively avoiding him or was truly busy because it seemed like whenever Arthur would look for him the man was never around the camp. With a sigh Arthur picked up a bail of hay, carrying it almost halfway across camp- whoever decided to put the horses so far off had made an incredibly dumb choice, before Karen walked over with a grin on her face.

“Well now Arthur, I heard some rumor floatin around about you. Wanna tell me if its true or not? You really hackin up flowers?” Arthur rubbed  the bridge of his nose and turned to Karen. “You can trust me, I ain’t here to judge. But everyone who knows- and people are knowin now- we all want to know who you’re coughing for. Mary-beth thought it might be her, I saw you two dancin when Sean came back.”

“Karen-”

“Or you coughin for Tilly? Unless you’re doin it for me which is sweet Arthur but you know that Sean and I… Well… He’d put up a fight though I don’t think it’d be much of one for you.”

“Karen.” Arthur snapped her name and that seemed to get her to quiet down. “I don’t want to talk about it. Whole damn camp knows I’m coughin, fine, but I don’t need that person knowing until I’m ready.” Karen raised her brow, taking a long drag of the cigarette in her fingers.

“Lighten up would ya? It ain’t a death sentence.” She dropped the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out before smiling to Arthur. “But you know I don’t tell any secrets, I got plenty of em. I just want to know, maybe I can help.”

Arthur looked around the camp and gently put his hand on Karens shoulder, tugging her over gently. “I trust you with my life. Trust most of the people here with my life, but believe me when I say this isn’t something I want help with. You’ll find out eventually, and you’ll find out with the rest of the camp.” With a smile Arthur pat her shoulder and walked off before she could snap at him.

It was getting dark and Arthur was getting tired now, with no sign of Charles in the camp he decided to make his way over to his tent. Before he could even sit down he heard Dutch call out his name. With a sigh Arthur turned to him, ready to hear out whatever he had to say this time.

“Arthur, son I know you’re tired but I need you to do one last thing tonight.” Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded to Dutch to tell him to continue. “Hosea thinks he has a job down in Emerald Ranch, and needs you down there tonight. It shouldn’t take long, you know Hosea is an in and out kind of guy, and you can sleep when you’re back.” Arthur reluctantly agreed to head down and see what Hosea needed. “Thank you son.”

Dutch turned and left him, so Arthur made his way back across the camp to the horses, climbing up onto his own to ride out. On the way out he almost rode into Charles, who looked like he just returned from a very good hunting trip, which made Arthur feel good since he hadn’t been able to catch anything earlier. Arthur smiled and tipped his hat to Charles and felt his heart flutter when Charles smiled back at him before the two of them rode past each other. He rode a bit quicker as he felt his chest tighten again before he began hacking up flower petals once more, spitting them out onto the ground.

``````````

Arthur finally arrived at Emerald Ranch, more tired now than before and running on the fact that Hosea wouldn’t let a simple job take too long and he’d be in his cot and sleeping hopefully before the sun rose. Hosea seemed happy to see Arthur, quickly introducing him to the man he was dealing with- Seamus. Arthur was not in the mood to deal with him if he was honest, the man looked like he didn’t want to deal with them either and it seemed like Hosea had probably pulled a hell of a stunt to even get the man to sit down and talk to him. Seamus obviously didn’t trust them and Arthur didn’t care, but Hosea seemed pushy.

After a quick conversation and a promise that it’d be all hushed and nobody would find out, Seamus gave Hosea and Arthur a job and sent them on their way. He was having them rob his cousin, didn’t give them any reason to be worried though since both of them knew that family matters would stay in the family and this was purely business.

Once they were away from the barn Hosea was quick to question him. “You couldn’t have played that any better?”

“Thought you wanted me to show some strong arm? Thats usually how it goes.”

“Yes but you know how this goes.” Hosea rode next to Arthur and gave him a worried look. “Are you still angry about those flowers? Gotta take it out on people we’re tryin’ to get money from is that it?” “Hosea…” Arthur sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “That ain’t it. This guy is a joke and you know it.”

“Thats why hes perfect. He won’t cause us any problems. A safe spot to fence wagons and coaches, well thats easy money for us.” Hosea leaned over and pat Arthur on the back. “But, really Arthur; Dutch and I are worried about you. We haven’t seen you do much talking to Charles lately and those petals don’t go away naturally, avoiding him isn’t going to work.”

Arthur could almost laugh at that. “Avoiding him? I’ve been tryin’ to talk to him. Feels like everytime I get up the courage to talk to him he’s nowhere to be found. Either he’s leaving camp when I show up or I’m leavin when he rides back in. I ran into him on the way out to come ‘n see you but I didn’t really have the time to say anything.”

“Now now, don’t put the blame on me. He was in camp when I left to come down here. So you haven’t been avoiding him at all? You sure about that?” No, Arthur wasn’t sure. As much as it was frustrating that they never seemed to be in camp at the same time, he also knew somewhere he was almost relieved they weren’t bumping into each other. It didn’t help the feelings and the petals at all, but it seemed to give Arthur an excuse for not talking to him. Arthur knew he could easily find Charles or wait around if he really wanted to, doing chores around the camp or what not until Charles rode back in.

“Hosea I ain’t sure its gonna work. I’m not sure hes… Well…” Arthur trailed off and waved his hand in the air like that was an explanation. Hosea had his horse trot out in front of Arthurs so Arthur would have to stop, and Hosea just raised his brow at Arthur to have him continue. “I ain’t sure hes into guys Hosea. I seen him around bars and he’s always tryin’ to hook up with a woman, never catch him glancin at a man the same way or- hell he barely glances at me when I’m around.” Arthur closed his eyes, taking in a deep breath through his nose. “I’m scared Hosea. You know how fast the disease can progress with rejection, we’ve seen it happen. Not to anyone important but we’ve seen it. Those people, they die in less than a week, sometimes they’re dead by the next morning.”

“You know if that happens doctors can remove it, sure it progresses quickly but we can always find you a doctor. I’m sure Dutch wouldn’t mind spending some money to get you healthy. Might be awkward as hell around Charles for awhile, but you could still survive. I don’t want to see you wither away because you can’t pull yourself to talk to someone, and I won’t watch you sink into a bottle again because you’re in love with someone.” Again. The word made Arthur flinch, made him remember back to when he was ‘in love’ with Mary and when they’d broken up, how he’d come back to camp and drank himself to the point of a blackout until Hosea hid away everything and made sure someone was with Arthur to keep him away from bars.

“I’ll… I’ll talk to him Hosea. When I get time I will. Tomorrow, maybe if Dutch doesn’t have me runnin’ around again and I can actually find Charles.” Hosea nodded, seeming a little happy with that answer.

“I’ll hold you to that one. Now, lets go rob this cousin by marriage before the sun comes up shall we?”

`````````

Arthur rode back into camp with Hosea, dead tired now from the very long day he had and his cot just seemed to be screaming his name. He hitched up his horse, giving her a carrot and a sugar cube before he finally made his way over to his tent. Noticing a letter on the table he had, Arthur picked it up and felt bile rise in the back of his throat as he immediately recognized the handwriting. Mary, of course it was Mary, writing a letter to him about meeting up. It made his heart jump as he read about her being in town and that she needed some sort of help, god damn of course she did. He set the letter down and sat on the edge of his cot, running his hands over his face as he thought about going to see her. Arthur knew they were long past every making up and getting back together, especially with flowers trying to grow in his lungs for someone else, but Arthur figured the least he could do is see what she needed help with.

Finally Arthur was able to lay down, he threw his arm over his eyes before closing them so he could sleep better- hopefully at least that was the plan.

#Red Dead Redemption #charthur #arthur morgan #charles smith #fic #my fic #fanfic #sorry for the DELAY #i had writers block #im trying to get rid of it slowly dfhkdfshfds

[nobodiesheartlessshitblog45]

Charles Is Best Boyfriend Ever NSFW 🔞 Trigger warning sexual harassment 

Charles Smith x Female Oc

The sun was slowly rising Emma was sleeping soundly. Then she felt warm kisses on her cheek.

Charles: Hey, darlin’. Wake up.

Emma grumbles as she rolls her on to her side, Charles chuckles, and kisses her bare back and shoulder.

Charles: C’mon. Sun’s up.

Emma: ... No, I’m trying to ignore you... and the sun.

Charles: But, you can ignore me for long. If I do this~...

He nuzzles her neck and kisses it.

Emma tried to hold back laugher, and Charles pulls her closer, kissing her shoulder blade and gently tickles her side.

Emma starts laughing, and tunes her to Charles who smiles.

Charles: (kisses) There’s that beautiful smile~. Now get ass up.

Emma: Pff. Heh Wow. What a romantic thing to say.

Charles: (chuckles) C’mon. Time to get up, unless you Miss. Grimshaw to walk on us. Again.

Emma: (groans) Okay, okay. I’m getting up.

And with that the two lovers got dress and got ready for the today.

It had a been over a few months since Charles and Emma became a couple,they were taking things slow.

After a while, Charles has become more boulder.He give Emma little kisses on the cheek, the fourhead and lips in front the others, who sometimes cheer and whistle.

Making Emma into a blushing mess, Charles however didn’t seem pay no mind, intended enjoying his new found happiness.

He never felt so content and happy before in his life.

It was foggy quiet morning, everyone was getting ready for the day.

Emma and Abigail were making coffee for everyone.

Emma walks over the table were, Sean and Lenny were sitting.

Emma: Here ya go, gentlemen. Fresh hot off. (hands them their cups)

Sean: Thanks, Emma.

Lenny: (yawns) Thank you.

Emma: No problem, boys.

She walks to the a tree where Micah was standing playing with his knife. She dosen’t say anything just hands him the coffee.

Micah: (takes it) Thanks, Emma. Say, do we have any sugar?

Emma: (gets annoyed) No, last time I check we’re out.

Micah: Aww, really that’s a shame. (puts his knife away) How ‘bout givin’ me a little sugar~?

He was eyeing her up and down, and Emma gave him a disgusted look.

Emma: Yeah, no, way.

Micah: Aww, don’t be like that. Why... You didn’t seem to mind givin’ some Smith some last night.

Emma stood there, her stomach turns, and her sink was crawling.

Micah: I gotta say hearin’ those noises ya made last night... Oh, can’t stop thinkin’ about it... (reaches for her hand) It gets me all hot and bothered~...

Emma pulls away, backing away slowly. She felt like she going to be sick.

Emma: You... You are a vile man, Bell!

And she walks away, while Micah laugh to himself drinking his coffee.

Micah: I’m givin’ you a compliment, Rogers, no need to be dramatic!

Later on that day, Charles was helping John fix one of wagon wheels, and taking to.

Charles: Looks pretty good.

John: Yeah. (puts the hammer down) How are things goin’ with you and Emma.

Charles: Great. We’re... great. ... Heh. She’s, well, great.

John: She’s alright. Had deal with her when she was kid, she drove me nuts. Haha.

Charles: Hehe. You two are close?

John: Yeah, we did some stupid things together, back when we was kids.

Abigail fixing Jack’s stuff bear while listening to them and rolls eyes

Abigail: Goood, the trouble you two got into... The big pig sandal. That was a nightmare.

Charles: Hahah. What? (looks at John)

John: Hey, it was Emma’s idea, not mine I just happened to go along for the ride.

Abigail: You painted a pig gold sayin’ it was rare breed pig, got caught when the painted washed off, and both y’all spent three days in jail. Hosea has to bail you both out.

John: ... ... Again, it was her idea.

Abigail: You still did it. Idiot...

John: ... Itbwas pretty good idea, and the was dump enough pay $1,000, and was not up our felt that rained the next!

Charles: ... Seriously?

John: Yep, some city rich fell for it and bought it... then we went to jail, but hey we still head the money.

Charles just laughs, and help John with the other wheele.

John: By the way, thanks for putting with Jackie yesterday. Though he can get carried away when come to askin’ personal questions.

Charles: No problem. He’s adorable,

and sweet kid.

John: Heh. He got that from me... Abby not so much.

Abigail: I heard that, Morrison!

John: Love ya, darlin’~.

Charles laughs, and Abigail walks over handing them both some water.

Abigail: I do apologize that you had to put up with big fool, Charles. He be quite irritating.

John: I think you charmin’, dear.

Abigail: I know what I said.

Charles: Haha. He actually a Pleasant man to work with, Mrs. Morrison.

Abigail: Oh, please. Call me Abigail. You’ve been with us for a 4 months, no need to be so formal.

Charles smiles and feels someone hugging his leg. He looks down and sees Jack smiling at him.

Jack: Hi, Uncle Charles.

Charles felt his heart melt, he kneels down, and smiles.

Charles: Hello there.

Jack: Guess what, I saw those big fluffy cows you told me about. B-Bi... Bison!

Charles: Oh, you did.

Jack: Yeah, they huge. Do you think we can be one them?

Charles: No, they’re pretty dangerous.

Jack: Oh. ... Can watch them together?

Charles: Of course. But I have some work that needs to get done.

Jack: Okay.

John: C’mere.

Jack runs up to John and he picks him and hugs.

John: You be good to ma, okay?

Jack: Okay, pa.

John smiles and hugs, before putting him. Jack runs over to Abigail, smiles at him.

Charles: You have a wonderful family.

John: I do. Honestly, never thought I would have family.

Charles: You’re a good Father and husband.

John: Hehe. I wouldn’t say I’m good, but I try. I have too. For’em.

Charles smiles at John. He checks the rest of the wheeles, and nods.

John: Okay, looks good. Thanks for your help again, Charles.

Charles: Of course. Happy to help you out.

John: Haha. Ya know, I don’t remember you be this talkative. Feels like I’m just borin’ ya.

Charles: I enjoy takin’ to you. You’re one few I like talkin’ too.

John: Well, I feel honored. Anyway, thanks your help, Charles. I’ll take it from here.

Charles nods walks away meanwhile on the other of camp, Emma and Tilly were cleaning out a pot, while Karen was going off about Susan again.

Karen: UUGGHH!!! I hate cleanin’ our this big pot!! (throws the sponge down) I cannot keep doin’! I feel Grimshaw has it out for me, girls

Emma: Pff. What? (laughs)

Tilly: (rolls her eyes) No, she ain’t, Karen.

Karen: It’s a fact. She’s always watchin’ me, like hank. An ugly mean old hawk.

The two women burst into laughter, as Karen went on.

Karen: She’s always like ‘Miss. Jose, Miss Jose, you’re using the wrong thread, you’re washing dishes the wrong.’ It drives me me nuts. I tell ya, girls, if I was in charge things would be a lot different.

Emma: I, heh, I guess so.

Tilly: If you were in charge, we would be drinkin’ and nothin’ would get done. We live like animals.

Karen: I think you mean Royalty!

She keeps cleaning the pot, when Micah comes up to them.

Micah: Afternoon, Miss. Jose, Miss. Jackson and (licks his lips at Emma) Miss. Rogers.

Emma: (she her sink crawl) ... Yeah.

Micah: Boy, you sure are good with your hands, Mss. Rogers. Betcha that body of yours if good at other things, too.

Emma felt she was going to sick. Karen gets angry, and stands in front of her.

Karen: Get the hell outta here, pervert!

Micah: Aww, Karen, my sweet, ya wound me with them hurtful words. Unless you wanna have fun with me instead~.

Tilly: Oh, you’re gonna hurt even more if ya don’t get lost! Now fuck off, you pig!!!

Micah: Okay, okay, I’ll leave you both be. (gives them smirk, and winks at Emma) See ya later~.

He walks away, Emma let out a shutter, her sink was crawling all over like a million spiders was walking all over her bear sink.

Karen: Sucha a damn creep! (looks at Emma) I think you tell someone what Micah said to ya this.

Emma: I-I know I should be... I don’t like starting drama.

Karen: Em, (takes her hands into hers) You need to tell Charles or someone about what Micah said. Please.

Emma stood there for a few moments, and nods.

Emma: Okay. You’re right.

Karen: Thank you.

Tilly: (spots Charles walking by) Hey, Mr. Smith!

Emma: H-Hey, Tilly, what are you doing?!

Tilly: You need to tell him.

Charles walks over, giving the ladies a smile.

Charles: Hey, what’s wrong?

Karen: Go on, Emma, tell him.

Charles looks at her, and saw the embarrassed expression on her face.

He knew something was wrong, he walks to up her.

Charles: What’s wrong?

Emma: Okay...I-It’s Micah... He...

Charles: ... What did he do?

Emma takes a deep and began to explain what Micah said this more, she was explaining, she began to visibly upset and embarrassed.

Charles stood there, listening to her clenching his fists, But starts calm.

Tilly: And Micah was bein’ a creep to her again.

Charles: ... ... (takes a deep breath) I’ll talk with Micah.

Charles walks away, ready to have a ‘talk’ Micah. He looks around the camp, and sees Micah smoking a cigarette, sees Charles walking over.

Charles: Bell! We need to talk!

Micah: The hell do you want, Smith?

Charles: (gives a death glare)... You. Stay. Away. From. Emma. Understand?

Micah: (throws his cigarette on the ground) What didcha say?(walks to Charles) Who do you think you are givin’ me ordereds?!

Charles: (walks closer to Micah) I ain’t tellin’ you again, Bell. Stay away from my woman.

Micah: Ohoho. Get a loud of this, folks, Smith thinks he can order me around. Hahah. (grins) The world must be goin’ ass backwards if I have to listen to likes of you! (spit where Charles boots) Look here, boy. You got a set of balls on ya for talkin’ me like that, and mixin’ with our women!

Charles was felt his nails digging into his palms.

Micah: If Rogers wasn’t whorin’ around with the likes of ya, I would have a little fun with her myself, and I know she would love it~...

Charles grabs Micah by his coller shirt and throws against the tree and punches him in the face few times.

Micah tried to get hit him, but Charles knees him in the balls hard.

Charles lets go of Micah letting him fall onto the ground how old up into a ball, crying in sooo much pain.

Charles: Never Ever bother Emma or the other woman again...

And he walks off, leaving Micah on the ground in so much pain.

The other members of the camp and cheered and Lenny gives a thumbs up as Charles walks the walking by, he nods.

Karen, Tilly and Emma stood there watching what happened speechless.

Charles: (in a calm voice) He ain’t gonna bother you no more.

Tilly: Hahah. Nice one, Charles!

Karen: Heh. That’ll show him.

Emma: (smiles) Thank you, Charles

Charles: Anytime, darlin’.

He kisses her and walks away.

Karen: Ya think he can to that Miss. Grimshaw too?

Emma: What?! No, Karen!

Tilly: Couldn’t hurt to ask.

Emma: Tilly!

Karen: Hehe. I’m only jokin’. ... Kinda.

Bonus

Arthur was walking camp, singing and humming to himself, when sees Micah slowly getting to his feet.

Micah: (glares him, in a high pitch voice) What the hell are you lookin’ at, cowboy?!

Arthur stood there and began laughter hysterically.

Micah: (in high pictch voice) I-I don’t need this...

And slowly walks away, but falls over again because he crotch was aching and numb.

Lenny: (looks at Micah) How are feelin’ Mr. Balls?

Micah lets out a tiny groan, and flips Lenny off.

Arthur: Hahah. What happened?

Lenny: Charles beat up Micah... Kicked him in the balls..

Arthur: A-Are you kiddin’?! ... And I missed it?! Aww, goddamn.

Lenny: It was a magical thing to witness, Arthur. You have no idea.

Micah: ... I ... hate you all...

Arthur and Lenny began laughing at him, and Micah to his feet, and saw Lance was walking by.

Micah: H-Hey!! You!

Lance looks over and sees Micha leanings against a tree, hunched forward, his hover his balls.

Micha: ... Didcha stand there (voice cracks) Help me...

Lance: ... ... Walk it off! (keep walking)

Arthur and Lenny were now howling with as Micah slowly limps away.

#rdr2 charles #charles smith #female oc #rdr2 karen #rdr2 tilly #micha bell