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amrass · 8 days ago

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Fanfiction updates and excerpts 08.01.25

Summer is ending and autumn is approaching, which I'm stoked about, as that's when I get my best writing done. There are so many fics listed here that some might appear in spring and summer 2026. I hope to complete them all. Your support is deeply appreciated!

Mentioned here are 9 (!) fics for Red Dead Redemption, two for Silent Hill, one for Mouthwashing, one for Severance, and three crossovers where one is for RDR2 & GTA IV-V, one for Mouthwashing & the Alien Franchise and one for the Alien Franchise & RDR2. As always, most of these works will deal with disturbing themes and explicit smut.

Red Dead Redemption

Salt chapter 26-33, a Colm/Micah sugar daddy AU story. Excerpt from part 28:

"Mother," Colm said curtly. "I brought a guest."

"Shall I ready Owen's room?"

"No. He'll be sleeping in my bed."

Micah startled. Colm was looking directly at his mother, challenging her. She had grown pale and was clutching the necklace at her chest. Then she looked up, muttering something, maybe a prayer. And then it was as if the judgement left her, and she nodded, without joy, "There's dinner on the stove. I must lay down for a wee bit."

"How's your health?"

"Dreadful."

"So nothing's new, then."

She looked sadly upon him and left. It was one of the coldest exchanges between a mother and a son that Micah had ever seen. It was kind of cool, actually. Especially as an insight into the man that he had discovered, after three murders and a fuck, he kind of... loved.

Strangelove part 5, a Dutch/Micah/Colm modern AU story. Excerpt:

His expression looked hollow. When he saw Dutch approach, he flinched, and his mouth moved in what appeared to be an apology, though unable to make noise. As Dutch's concern grew and he let it show on his face, Micah simply held up the jacket; a brown bomber jacket, old and oversized, full of tears and cracks and... dried blood.

Dutch took a step backwards, the memories slamming into him, the crack of a nose underneath his fingers that had hurt them in turn. He'd gotten a doctor to look at it and there had been strains to the small bones, strains he still felt if he didn't wear gloves in winter. From the looks of it as they were business partners, Colm had never gone to a doctor for his broken nose, and where Dutch had thought it'd been to punish him, he wasn't quite so sure anymore.

Black Eyed Dog, an Arthur/Micah/Colm oneshot set in a version of the fantasy AU, with help from @reddeadfantasyau . Excerpt:

The weight on top of him began to move. Pushing. Grinding. Micah sucked in a breath high in his throat, exhaling a noise of fear. Morgan paused before he pulled his teeth from Micah's neck, the ooze of blood warming his cold skin. All the while, Morgan was rutting against him like a dog with a man's patience. Micah could feel just how large he was. Larger than most of Colm's toys.

"You keep... triggering it," Morgan said heavily. "Why?"

"It," Micah echoed dully, his eyeballs feeling strangely glasslike.

"The beast, or... whatever. Who knows." Morgan raised his head and then made some high yipping noises that shouldn't have come from a man's throat, while the inhuman edges of his face warped strangely.

"Did you just speak dog?!"

Morgan made a sound that comparable to a coyote's laugh, but raspier, "I told them to eat up your friends. I'm gonna have a meal of my own."

A Dark Wind Blows (WIP title), a Karen/Micah(/Jenny?) oneshot that might become 2-3 chapters. Excerpt:

"Fuck," she breathed.

"Soon. Like I said, gotta check if I'm right about you." He dragged his hand up slowly, over her drawers to her belly, fingertips playing with their elastic band. Palm over her belly, callused and very warm. Pleasant despite its owner, despite its metaphorical blood. He was an experienced robber and killer, but he had a boyish curiosity when touching her. "It's hard," he commented, trying in vain to gather the seemingly soft flesh of her stomach in his palm.

She flushed, "Not as hard as yours." And because she was brave or stupid, she touched his belly in turn, as hard as rock. He just laughed.

"You'll get there if you keep drinking your little life away, Karen. Not that I'd know how it's like to drink it away, I drink from it, that's who I am. I'm a man, we ain't that emotionally delicate."

"I'm not delicate!"

He slid her hand into her drawers, finishing the swollen flesh, making her jolt in his lap. "Delicate, maybe not. Still delicious. You're so wet. Like I knew you would be."

The Man With the Gold, a Micah & Dutch & Jack Marston pre-canon oneshot. First meeting, inspired by There Will be Blood. Excerpt:

"No, I would sell these gold bars to the banks, ladies and gentlemen," Dutch continued. "You see, I run a family enterprise. I work side by side with my son J…Jim here after his mother's untimely demise. I think family is very, very important."

Micah can drink to that, too, though he has his doubt whether or not the toddler is Dutch's son or just some kid he rented for this show.

"Family means children; children mean education. So after I've sold you this gold, I'll help setting up a brand-new school. Education is a necessity. So let me help you build a wonderful school in Crenshaw Hills. These children," he gestures to the boy, "are the future that we strive for and so they should have the best of things…"

As Dutch monologues on about the education in this bum-fuck town in the middle of mountains, the serving girl comes by the little booth in the corner and asks Micah, "Another one, sir?"

"Sure, keep them coming, sweetheart. But don't call me sir, I'm not that old." Micah slaps her ass as she walked to get him another beer, and she doesn't even flinch enough for the empty glasses on her tray to quiver. Ah. Barely twenty and already frigid. Before he can warn her about it, the men in front of Dutch begins to yell.

"We don't need you!"

"The rumors say you're a liar!"

"We ought to build a church for that money, not a school!"

Snails on a Razor, a Javier/Dutch/Micah/Bill oneshot. Excerpt:

"(...)Thought it'd cheer you up, you know, being surrounded by your most loyal boys. You could tell us to do anything, and we'd do it, happily so."

"Anything," Dutch repeats, like the word holds an unfathomable depth.

"Anything of the flesh," Micah says, smiling a tiny, wicked smile.

It startles Javier sometimes how deep Micah seems to have gotten under Dutch's skin. There's a longing there, similar enough to his own that it evokes a kind of loss. But not envy, not really, not when he's heard Micah grunting and groaning through the walls of Dutch's tent; being Dutch's woman has always been hard work. Someday a new Molly will come along but until then, Javier would rather it be Micah, because that role has killed so many before him.

Tomb of the Gods (WIP title), a Micah/Molly/Dutch oneshot. Excerpt:

"She's quoting Hamlet," Dutch says, and for a stupid moment, he looks at her with warmth. Then the moment is gone, and his smile gains a lovely cold edge, "Do you think yourself an Ophelia, Molly? Do you crave attention that badly? You already got it, embarrassing me in front of everybody earlier today, screaming at all of us."

Molly sobs and Micah shushes her, not wasting any words on an object. "If even I got a headache from her womanly hysterics, your head must be killing you, Dutchie."

"Don't call me that. But yes. I had to use morphine. It dulls my mind. My emotions, too. I feel… empty. Is there nothing out there?" Dutch says the question abruptly, staring up through the fog at the slits of dark sky behind crooked branches.

"No gods here, except the two of us. But there's something right here, though. Something that's responsible for some of our headaches." He runs his fingers through Molly's hair to pull at the tangles and make her moan in pain. "I know how she can make it up to us, too. Like I've done, when I've been a bad boy." He licks his lips, "Ain't nothing unnatural about it. Just hierarchy. And this here? This seems like traitor, Dutch. Maybe we could make sure she keeps her trap shut before she runs off."

In This House, a Dutch/Arthur pre-canon oneshot. Excerpt:

"No distractions, I need your mind sharp and pure." Dutch leans closer, breath hot on Arthur's flank, "You ought to be grateful I let you keep your clothes on with all that you try hiding from me."

His jacket comes off. Left in his shirt and jeans, Dutch's warmth is all the more present at his back. His hands, too, roaming wherever under the guise of inspection. Like he's a shitty criminal, or a bad horse, like Dutch wants him to feel. With all that messing around in his pockets, his jeans start to get pulled down, exposing more of him.

"This part is always a bit uncomfortable, also for me. Pull them down for me, will you? Think of me as a doctor making sure you ain't smuggled something into jail." The comparison is stupid, but it helps, just like the militant and the familial language helped. Anything not to consider what this truly is: Dutch slapping his ass as soon as he's revealed it, whistling lowly to himself. "No underwear, huh? Nothing that fits? Good to see you've put on some weight. I mean that. It's healthy, son." Another slap. "Just look at that bounce, huh."

Arthur's face burns. He can't open his eyes because then he'll have to stare down on his rigid cock. He hears Dutch licking his own fingers, and it's perverse, how he knows that sound so well. Soon enough Dutch's fingers start leaving wet trails between his cheeks, beginning to slide them inside. Arthur tries to relax for it or it'll feel a lot worse.

"Quite a bit of room to stuff a bottle or a bag of cocaine down here, huh? Especially with how you've been whoring yourself out."

"I ain't - Uuuh, fuck!"

Vultures, an epilogue Dutch/Micah story, set from 1899-1911.

"Boss ain't in the mood to see no one," Cleet said. "He's, uh, sick."

"Keep your trap shut, dimwit," Joe told him, and Cleet flinched.

Dutch remembered Arthur, both his sickness and his claims of Micah being the sick one. Was it TB?

There was a bang from the second floor. All three men looked up to see some of the wooden boards in front of the second-floor window be kicked apart. The silvery top of two shoes shone in the sunlight, and then an equally silvery hair and beard, a bleached copy of his former self, faded like the mess of Dutch's complicated feelings. He had saved Dutch's life and then he destroyed everything around it.

Micah stuck his head out of the second floor, hair oilier than usual and hanging off his head like on a ghost. He'd gone almost fully gray. Dutch had read about it in novels but never seen it in real life. Stress, maybe? Micah's head was covered in bandages, including his left eye.

"Micah. We need to talk. Alone."

Silent Hill 2

The Beautiful Days, a James & Maria oneshot, about an alternative explanation to the weirdness at room 106 in Jack's Inn. Excerpt:

The first shot misses. The second too. But the third rings true. The mannequin falls backwards with the usual giggling death rattle. Like a mix of relief and pleasure. Maybe he isn't killing these creatures as much as he is setting them free.

Maria falls to her knees, then to all fours in the parking lot, and throws up what looks like reddish stomach acid. The sight of it is so startling that he steps backwards into the shadow of the room. She looks up at him and something strange moves over her gaze. Don't worry, James. I'll ask one of the Nurses to clean it up. They don't mind. Not like you do.

"Are you alright?" James asks, like a delayed tape recording, always too late.

"No. No ... I'm not alright. James," a wretched inhale; like he's heard so many times before, from ... Maria groans, "I'm bleeding all over the fucking place. I need to ... I think we ..."

"I'll find somewhere," he says, breaching the shadow of the room and the parking lot, crouching so he can pull one of her arms – warm, not cold – over his shoulder. "I ..."

"... Need to lay down," Maria says, forcing his lonely I into lonelier We. Lonelier because he cannot feel her pain, only watch it as it ripples her expression and morphs her into a likeness that he doesn't want to consider but is forced to do, again and again, here in Silent Hill.

The Liar, a James centric pre-canon oneshot, trying to find the dark origins of the Lying Figure. NB: details graphic suicide. Excerpt:

He drew the covers with their blue flower design tighter around her body, feeling her warmth, wanting to preserve it a bit longer. Just a tiny teeny bit. For her (him). The next act was yet to be done.

He walked to the small television room and felt as though he saw it for the first time although it would be the last. There was a large transparent plastic bag in the middle of the room, a rolled-up floor rug along the wall, a small square television, an old couch with the same flower pattern as the drawn curtains, and a bunch of empty shelves. He had donated all their books, DVDs and board games to a local library. The furniture was more anonymous and could be sold or destroyed for all he cared. He'd cleaned here too, but hadn't put any flowers here, because he didn't deserve them like she did. The television was on, tuned into an unused channel, volume low. He would turn it up very soon. The black television remote laid ready beside the plastic bag. Everything was ready.

He took his shoes off by the door. Then his jacket, his jeans, his shirt, his socks, and his boxers, folding them all neatly. And then he took off his ring, laying it on top of it all.

Mouthwashing

Most Accidents Happen at Home, a Jim/Curly pre-canon oneshot, trying to explain the origin of Jimmy's lip scar. Excerpt:

"Damn," Curly said while balancing a jiggling piece of egg on his fork. "I've missed your breakfasts."

Jimmy grunted something noncommittal to hide the warmth in the pit of his stomach.

"How's things?"

The warmth turned frosty. He didn't want to answer, but he ceased to eat for a moment, before he realized he needed to keep up his protein intake, and he could never afford healthy things that tasted as good as this when still a student.

"Is it money?" Curly asked quietly, like he could read Jimmy's mind. "I can loan you some."

"Yeah?" Jimmy said after a short pause, because he was low on cash after buying the miniature surveillance equipment. And since the latter was for Curly's own good, maybe it wasn't so humiliating, him paying for something that Jimmy did for him.

It would help him in the end. Because it had to. It had to.

Severance

Precision, a 4+1 oneshot + character analysis of Seth Milchick, told through the Four Tempers and a fifth one of Seth's design. Excerpt:

Seth is eleven years old when he falls in love for the first time.

He finds his object of affection in the library of The Ambrose Kier School for Boys, and it is dressed in an oxblood red coat, like Myrtle Eagan's preferred wear. Beneath the coat is leather of the same color, with golden Gothic letters like in their school textbooks, but it is also the first book that Seth ever touches that has not been published or edited by Lumon.

It is a thesaurus. He tries to quell his smile as he thinks of dinosaurs, a childish interest that he ought to have removed by now, but he's relieved to see no alluring pictures, only words. Interesting words, too. Synonyms. Rows and rows of strange and beautiful words.

Mouthwashing & the Alien Franchise

Wraiths and Strays, a threeshot (long chapters tho) featuring all the characters from MW and a select few androids from TAF, along with the cat Jones and the Xenomorph terrorizing them all. Excerpt:

For the most part, they waited in silence, until Anya spoke for the first time since they'd heard the news. She was scratching Jones' fur through the bars of the crate as he dozed off and purred loudly. "Bishop," she said quietly. "Sorry if this is silly but… is it true that animals can sense if a person is good or bad inside?"

"I'm forbidden from answering philosophical questions, but since we do have a cat onboard, that makes it more practical, I suppose. No, Jones cannot sense ethics, that's a superstition. He is an animal. The kindest thing to do to an animal is to acknowledge it as such. No more and no less."

"Do you have a soul, Bishop?" Jimmy asked, and Curly winced, because he didn't have to make it so obvious that they'd been listening in. "Is the kindest thing to do to a robot to treat it like a tin can?"

"They don't have a soul, that's for certain," Ash said curtly. "Can we please focus on the mission?"

David and Bishop both turned to him. Something passed between the three of them. Curly made a mental note to check up on that later. Anti-android sentiments were strong. They seemed strong in Ash. All the human workers at Polle Express were at risk like David had pointed out earlier, all except Curly.

RDR & the Alien Franchise

Purity, a Micah Bell & Xenomorph horror one shot. Excerpt:

In the space beneath him, there were... Flowers. Or more like fleshy looking bulbs, but somehow different to the ship, more like fauna than Leviathans. Greener and wetter, covered by a thin layer of steam, making it hard to discern them. Were this the food source of whatever navigated the ship? Of all the flowers, only one was opened and empty except for what looked like liquid. Maybe it ate the flies onboard.

Micah leant over the edge, careful not to fall, and pushed the lantern into the mist to get a better look. Another flower began to move. Making a gurgling sound. Unpeeling the petals. Something moved in its center, too alive to be some fruit, too aware to be food. They weren't flowers, he realized. They were eggs. And whatever they hatched had a scorpion's tail.

Abort mission!

It wasn't cowardly of him to run. It was common sense. No real person would want to inspect that. Nobody except maybe Marston, because he'd once expressed an interest in hunting Sasquatches, to which Morgan, Bill and Javier rolled their eyes so hard they looked dead.

RDR & GTA IV-V

The Legacy, a Trevor Phillips & Micah Bell crack oneshot. Excerpt:

A man was lying on his stomach in the center of the alter. He wasn't… whole. He looked almost transparent. He raised his head, and a rough, gray-haired, bearded face sneered up at Trevor. One eye was missing with a nasty scar across it, and there was a bullet wound in his forehead, like a closed third eye.

"Who and what the fuck are you?" Trevor asked, raising his gun. A hallucination? A ghost? Had Maccer and Paul given him acid? Had they dared? But no, there were no fractals.

Everything looked the same except for him.

The man got up, hovering slightly above the ground. He wore a dark leather winter coat and some rather cunty looking leg warmers, the sort Amanda would wear. Huh.

"Foolish boy," the creature said, voice reverberating strangely, like it was inside and outside Trevor's skull at the same time. "I know who you are. I can sense it. You're my blood."

Trevor squinted. "Your kind got a law against speaking clearly?"

"I'm your great grandfather, welp. On your mother's side."

"My mother… My mother says we came from a lineage of kings!"

"And you did. I owned more men than most. Though my seed must've been cursed with the mother's weakness, but so far it's only women until you. That's how low the Bell blood fared for generations."

Trevor paused, readying his gun, "Are you insulting my mother? I don't care who you are, no one insults my mother!"

#I'll probably reblog this occasionally instead of posting more excerpts to save time #feels a bit too much like nagging but I really enjoy it when people post old fics or art

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amrass · 8 days ago

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One Micah (1 of them)

#rdr #🥰

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amrass · 8 days ago

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I get so bummed out when I see people apologizing for oversharing or using tumblr like a diary. Its the fucking end times, babes. We're all lonely and scared. Post your shit, someone out there cares. I do. Nobody should be going through it alone.

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amrass · 9 days ago

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Fanfiction updates and excerpts 08.01.25

Red Dead Redemption

Salt chapter 26-33, a Colm/Micah sugar daddy AU story. Excerpt from part 28:

"Mother," Colm said curtly. "I brought a guest."

"Shall I ready Owen's room?"

"No. He'll be sleeping in my bed."

"How's your health?"

"Dreadful."

"So nothing's new, then."

Strangelove part 5, a Dutch/Micah/Colm modern AU story. Excerpt:

Black Eyed Dog, an Arthur/Micah/Colm oneshot set in a version of the fantasy AU, with help from @reddeadfantasyau . Excerpt:

"You keep... triggering it," Morgan said heavily. "Why?"

"It," Micah echoed dully, his eyeballs feeling strangely glasslike.

"Did you just speak dog?!"

Morgan made a sound that comparable to a coyote's laugh, but raspier, "I told them to eat up your friends. I'm gonna have a meal of my own."

A Dark Wind Blows (WIP title), a Karen/Micah(/Jenny?) oneshot that might become 2-3 chapters. Excerpt:

"Fuck," she breathed.

She flushed, "Not as hard as yours." And because she was brave or stupid, she touched his belly in turn, as hard as rock. He just laughed.

"I'm not delicate!"

He slid her hand into her drawers, finishing the swollen flesh, making her jolt in his lap. "Delicate, maybe not. Still delicious. You're so wet. Like I knew you would be."

The Man With the Gold, a Micah & Dutch & Jack Marston pre-canon oneshot. First meeting, inspired by There Will be Blood. Excerpt:

Micah can drink to that, too, though he has his doubt whether or not the toddler is Dutch's son or just some kid he rented for this show.

As Dutch monologues on about the education in this bum-fuck town in the middle of mountains, the serving girl comes by the little booth in the corner and asks Micah, "Another one, sir?"

"We don't need you!"

"The rumors say you're a liar!"

"We ought to build a church for that money, not a school!"

Snails on a Razor, a Javier/Dutch/Micah/Bill oneshot. Excerpt:

"(...)Thought it'd cheer you up, you know, being surrounded by your most loyal boys. You could tell us to do anything, and we'd do it, happily so."

"Anything," Dutch repeats, like the word holds an unfathomable depth.

"Anything of the flesh," Micah says, smiling a tiny, wicked smile.

Tomb of the Gods (WIP title), a Micah/Molly/Dutch oneshot. Excerpt:

Molly sobs and Micah shushes her, not wasting any words on an object. "If even I got a headache from her womanly hysterics, your head must be killing you, Dutchie."

In This House, a Dutch/Arthur pre-canon oneshot. Excerpt:

"No distractions, I need your mind sharp and pure." Dutch leans closer, breath hot on Arthur's flank, "You ought to be grateful I let you keep your clothes on with all that you try hiding from me."

"Quite a bit of room to stuff a bottle or a bag of cocaine down here, huh? Especially with how you've been whoring yourself out."

"I ain't - Uuuh, fuck!"

Vultures, an epilogue Dutch/Micah story, set from 1899-1911.

"Boss ain't in the mood to see no one," Cleet said. "He's, uh, sick."

"Keep your trap shut, dimwit," Joe told him, and Cleet flinched.

Dutch remembered Arthur, both his sickness and his claims of Micah being the sick one. Was it TB?

"Micah. We need to talk. Alone."

Silent Hill 2

The Beautiful Days, a James & Maria oneshot, about an alternative explanation to the weirdness at room 106 in Jack's Inn. Excerpt:

"Are you alright?" James asks, like a delayed tape recording, always too late.

"No. No ... I'm not alright. James," a wretched inhale; like he's heard so many times before, from ... Maria groans, "I'm bleeding all over the fucking place. I need to ... I think we ..."

"I'll find somewhere," he says, breaching the shadow of the room and the parking lot, crouching so he can pull one of her arms – warm, not cold – over his shoulder. "I ..."

The Liar, a James centric pre-canon oneshot, trying to find the dark origins of the Lying Figure. NB: details graphic suicide. Excerpt:

He took his shoes off by the door. Then his jacket, his jeans, his shirt, his socks, and his boxers, folding them all neatly. And then he took off his ring, laying it on top of it all.

Mouthwashing

Most Accidents Happen at Home, a Jim/Curly pre-canon oneshot, trying to explain the origin of Jimmy's lip scar. Excerpt:

"Damn," Curly said while balancing a jiggling piece of egg on his fork. "I've missed your breakfasts."

Jimmy grunted something noncommittal to hide the warmth in the pit of his stomach.

"How's things?"

"Is it money?" Curly asked quietly, like he could read Jimmy's mind. "I can loan you some."

It would help him in the end. Because it had to. It had to.

Severance

Precision, a 4+1 oneshot + character analysis of Seth Milchick, told through the Four Tempers and a fifth one of Seth's design. Excerpt:

Seth is eleven years old when he falls in love for the first time.

Mouthwashing & the Alien Franchise

Wraiths and Strays, a threeshot (long chapters tho) featuring all the characters from MW and a select few androids from TAF, along with the cat Jones and the Xenomorph terrorizing them all. Excerpt:

"They don't have a soul, that's for certain," Ash said curtly. "Can we please focus on the mission?"

RDR & the Alien Franchise

Purity, a Micah Bell & Xenomorph horror one shot. Excerpt:

Abort mission!

RDR & GTA IV-V

The Legacy, a Trevor Phillips & Micah Bell crack oneshot. Excerpt:

"Who and what the fuck are you?" Trevor asked, raising his gun. A hallucination? A ghost? Had Maccer and Paul given him acid? Had they dared? But no, there were no fractals.

Everything looked the same except for him.

The man got up, hovering slightly above the ground. He wore a dark leather winter coat and some rather cunty looking leg warmers, the sort Amanda would wear. Huh.

"Foolish boy," the creature said, voice reverberating strangely, like it was inside and outside Trevor's skull at the same time. "I know who you are. I can sense it. You're my blood."

Trevor squinted. "Your kind got a law against speaking clearly?"

"I'm your great grandfather, welp. On your mother's side."

"My mother… My mother says we came from a lineage of kings!"

"And you did. I owned more men than most. Though my seed must've been cursed with the mother's weakness, but so far it's only women until you. That's how low the Bell blood fared for generations."

Trevor paused, readying his gun, "Are you insulting my mother? I don't care who you are, no one insults my mother!"

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amrass · 9 days ago

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These write-ups are so awesome. I'm grateful you mentioned a variety of HCs, which I encourage, and your respect for Owen's origins as a darkfic antagonist. I feel really lucky to be a part of our bubble, it shows that all one needs to have fun in fandom is a couple of mad friends bouncing ideas at each other. Good luck with the fantasy AU! I'm going to join in one day soon 😎

Owen O'Driscoll Character Overview

I made one of these long ago but it got deleted so I am making a new one, perhaps a little more condensed than my past one.

——

(Art provided by Skibiborg)

——

Content warning!:

I want to make it clear right off the bat that Owen is a dead dove character at his core, and by that I mean his origins and core characteristics deeply involve rape, power imbalance, murder, grooming, etc. In this summary, those topics will not be spoken about since they're not critical to his relevance to Fantasy au.

If you decide to explore Amras or Skibiborg’s works for more Owen content, you will run into 18+ dead dove content. Please be careful if you know those elements bother you, take care of yourself.

Creation / Credits?:

Owen O’Driscoll was made by @amrass to be a fan character for Colm O’Driscoll’s brother who is mentioned but never named or described to any capacity.

@\Skibiborg on Twitter then drew their interpretation of how Owen looks based off of Amras’ description. This is the “canon” design that almost everyone that knows of Owen has been drawing from.

I designed a Sphinx + griffin version based off of Skibiborg’s art (with permission), which is used in the fantasy AU.

Backstory (Amras + Skibiborg):

Amras, the creator of Owen, has made some posts here and there on Twitter and Tumblr talking about Owen and his backstory / creation: Owen info

We (Me, Amras, Skibi) have collectively agreed across our individual headcanon that his backstory is along these lines:

Owen and Colm were born and raised in a wealthy Irish family in America. Owen was older than Colm by an unspecific amount of years. He’s the beloved boy who’s so well mannered when guests are over, even though he treated Colm poorly, beating him up and being overbearing. Owen exhibited attributes of a sociopath, whether he actually was one is up to interpretation.

Owen, from childhood to adulthood, had a strange form of love; Colm for example, Owen would give him materialistic delights and hugs, even though Colm desired none of these. It’s as if Owen did these loving gestures to comfort himself and his worries as opposed to caring about the other person’s feelings.

Their family likely had some involvement with orchestrating crimes, so it wasn’t crazy that Owen grew into a criminal gang leader (O’Driscolls), using his charm and size to network. Colm was a lower but still vital rank.

Owen and Colm had a combined cruelty that was terrifying. Colm was impersonal in his torture, meanwhile Owen fed parasitically off of faux-familiarity as he broke people psychologically.

At some point, Colm and Owen worked with Micah Bell II which left Micah Bell II in debt to the brothers. Whether Bell II rented Micah to the brothers vs. Bell II was killed and Micah Bell III was picked up by the brothers is up to the Interpreter, but the end result is that Micah III was a young man and worked with the O'Driscolls for a while. Colm and Owen both saw promise in Micah, Owen in particular saw a bed warmer and an obedient man who wants to please authority figures. (And Micah may have left the gang sometime before or during Dutch’s alliance with the O’D).

Dutch and his rag tag gang of only John, Arthur, and Hosea crossed paths, with Owen, who charmed Dutch enough to strike up an alliance where the O’D would help the VDL get their footing as a gang as long as Dutch agreed to help the brothers organize heists and whatnot. Colm was a closer friend to Dutch. Owen and Dutch began to butt heads after they got to know each other and saw the other for their flaws.

Something went down to motivate Dutch to kill Owen, which led to Colm killing Annabelle in revenge, which kicked off the VDL and O’D feud.

Fantasy AU Lore:

In the fantasy AU, Colm and Owen have nearly the exact same background, their parents are a wealthy family of monsters who are exceptional at disguising. The parents lack concrete lore or designs at the moment (they’d be based on Skibiborg’s designs for the O’Driscoll parents if I did draw fantasy designs).

Though they look completely unrelated, I swear they are blood related siblings. They’re griffin and Sphinx hybrids with heavy emphasis on the Sphinx genetics.

Colm was designed before I had any lore established so he has no bird or big cat in mind for his design. Owen is based on a peregrine Falcon and tuxedo cat

Misc:

💜the Owen hive mind agree that he loves the color purple and smells like floral sickely sweet perfume.

💜he talks fancy like the cat from Corlaine / The Judge from OFF / Pocket Cat from Fear and Hunger, but sounds like Monty from Withnail and I / Laszlo from What We Do In The Shadows (or at least, that’s what I imagine).

💜He uses a British accent when in private and an Irish accent when talking to the gang O’Driscolls. Owen and Colm hate being Irish (time period and all) so he pretends he’s British and Colm pretends to be American. He uses the Irish accent around gang members because he rallies them under the insincere idea of “we’re Irish! Let’s stick together.”

💜he uses pet names and sweet praise towards those he likes. “My beloved brother” is my go to and I beat it like a dead horse.

💜he is incredibly materialistic, seeing even people as things to claim and control and maintain. He and Colm have a tug of war over certain things, like who gets to claim Micah. Colm usually doesn’t care about possessions outside a select few he values. He's a more quality > quantity man.

💜though Owen is higher ranking than Colm, there is no real canon on what their jobs were. I believe Owen was the primary scheme crafted while Colm was the man amongst the gang that made sure things got done. Colm is prone to tunnel vision when it comes to planning and he lacks the fucks to do follow up when things don’t work. Owen on the other hand is a pain in the ass about every small detail and having his plans followed. Put them together and you get a gang that can pretty competently rake in money.

💜there is no one lore explanation for the scar on Owen’s left cheek. Skibi added that detail and we just draw it. Some of us hc Colm sliced his face.

💜the white gloves is one of the few things I can take credit for in his design. It is one of my favorite details, even if I don’t draw it often.

💜he is so fat because he ate all the nutrients inside and outside of the womb, leaving skinny Colm with nothing /joking

#rdr #owen o'driscoll #rdr2 fantasy au #amras recommends #please check out their work!

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amrass · 9 days ago

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I saw many of your art where younger Micah is with the O'Driscoll brothers, what's the lore behind that? How did he meet them, and how did he went from Colm to Dutch??

it’s a headcanon / speculative background for micah, Dutch, and Colm that really captured me. I didn’t come up with it, much of my material draws from @amrass writing or Skibiborg’s art.

The kernel of the idea was born from the mystery surrounding Colm and Micah’s past, Micah having a blueish green bandanna that is common in a couple of his outfits in-game, and the similarities in cruelty from Micah tans the O’Driscolls.

Amras has numerous posts about it (being telling a story with it or simply summarizing the gist). All of this is worth a read, but part 3 focuses on the micah and Colm overlap:

“... Colm would’ve valued a gun like him. His ruthlessness and boot-licking, too. Especially if he was younger, lonelier and easier to sway. After his brother leaves and his father dies, he’ll have no one.

And while he is a bit of a lone wolf hermit, Colm could’ve reminded him of his father, like Dutch probably does, but I really like the thought of Colm reminding Micah of his grandfather…

Of course, the Bell heritage is too alive within him to render him into another nameless O'Driscoll Boy, so he and Colm eventually fall out…”

The gist I remember is that Micah II was aging and struggled to shape his teen boys into worthy outlaws. He began to rent the boys as hired guns to the O’Driscoll brothers because they were infamous outlaws + Micah II was in debt to them for their past help.

Amos ran away one day, too burdened by the demand to be an outlaw. Micah was obedient and would do anything for his father, including working for these strangers. Owen tried to build a familiarity with Micah, but Micah was observant and stubborn enough to see Owen just wanted him as a lap cat to pet. Colm extended more respect and so Micah was fonder of him.

Micah II bevame too sickely to continue making payments to the brothers. Colm stopped by while Micah was busy and shot Micah II in the head. He claimed Micah as the next payment for the debt, and Micah would continue to work for them until it is all paid off, then Micah could have his freedom (if he still wanted it by then).

I personally love this headcanon because it is wonderful set up: micah missing his brother but feeling betrayal for him running away, him seeing his dead relatives in Colm and Owen but knowing they have ulterior motives, Micah struggling to fit into the gang when it has pre-established rank and norms that he’s not raised in (also works so well with autistic Micah headcanon), so on…

On AO3, Salt by Amras is a story taking place in that era of Micah’s life and wonderfully explores the dynamics in it. Caution that it is nsfw and to read the tags!

#rdr #💜💜💜

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amrass · 9 days ago

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Writing Notes: Clothing Textures

When you think of textured clothing, you might imagine a scratchy wool sweater or a soft fur coat, but every clothing item has some kind of texture. The texture of fabric is often determined by the type of weave, so it’s a good idea to get to know the 3 major weave types:

Twill: The distinguishing characteristic of the twill weave is its diagonal rib pattern. Twill weaves have a distinct, often dark-colored front side (called the wale) and a lighter back. Twill has high thread count, which means that the fabric is opaque, thick, and durable, making it perfect for chinos, upholstery, and bed linens. Denim is a twill weave fabric, as are tweed and houndstooth.

Satin weave: The satin weave creates a fabric that is shiny, soft, and elastic with a beautiful drape. Satin fabric has a lustrous surface on one side and a dull, matte surface on the other side. Satin is perfect for haute couture-style dresses and clutches.

Plain weave: Plain weave fabrics, including canvas, taffeta, and muslin, are made by overlapping the warp and weft (vertical and horizontal threads) at right angles. This forms a criss-cross pattern that looks the same on both sides of the fabric.

Common Fabric Textures

The types of fabric you’ll encounter when looking for different textures include:

Denim is a strong cotton fabric with a twill weave that gives it a subtle diagonal ribbing pattern. The diagonal ribbing is what makes denim fabric different from canvas or cotton duck, which are also sturdy, woven cotton fabrics.

Broadcloth is a plain-weave fabric that is traditionally woven from thick wool yarn—the fibres of which felt together as the cloth is made. Broadcloth is sturdy, stiff, and resistant to wind and water.

Seersucker is a type of thin cotton cloth. The way it is woven causes the threads to pucker and bunch, creating crinkles. Seersucker often comes in narrow white and blue stripes and is popular in summer fashion.

Corduroy is a soft, durable fabric. It is distinctive for the tufted cords—called “wales”—that run in parallel along its surface. Corduroy is typically made from cotton, but it can also be made from wool.

Leather is any fabric that is made from animal hides or skin, with cowhide being the most popular.

Suede is a type of leather made from the soft underside of an animal skin. It is softer, thinner, and more delicate than traditional full-grain leather. Suede is ideal for footwear, jackets, and accessories like belts and bags.

Brocade is a particular style of jacquard fabric that uses additional threads to create a raised pattern, resulting in an embossed or embroidered effect. Due to the technique used to make it, brocade fabric is not reversible, and it may appear rough or unfinished on the underside.

Silk is a natural fiber produced by the silkworm. Silk is incredibly durable, with a shine and softness that are unmatched. Silk fabric is used for formal attire and accessories like pocket squares.

Cashmere is a type of fabric made from the wool of cashmere goats and pashmina goats. Cashmere is a natural fiber with an extremely soft feel and great insulation. Cashmere is significantly warmer and lighter than cloth made from sheep’s wool. Often, cashmere is blended with other types of wool, like merino, to give it added weight, since cashmere fibers are very fine and thin.

Jersey is a soft, stretchy knit fabric that was originally made from wool. Today, jersey is also made from cotton, cotton blends, and synthetic fibers. The fabric is usually light-to-medium weight and is used for a variety of cotton clothing items, such as T-shirts.

Flannel is a soft woven fabric typically made from cotton. It is a common material for plaid shirts.

How to Mix and Match Clothing Textures

Texture is an easy way to add visual interest to an outfit. By layering different textures, you can create a distinct look.

Identify neutral textures. Mixing and matching textures is similar to mixing and matching patterns and prints. In the same way that certain classic prints appear neutral, simple textures can serve as a neutral base for wilder textures. Denim, cotton fabric, leather, and suede are some of the most basic textures that play well with other textures. Neutral textures that are smaller and less visible to the naked eye—like merino wool—pair well with more attention-grabbing textures.

Consider a texture’s typical context. Textures evoke specific moods. Silk lends a luxurious vibe to any outfit. A plaid flannel shirt can look cozy with corduroy, but it becomes more serious when paired with a black leather jacket. Denim is a casual texture you can use to dress down other fabrics: Pair a satin tank with jeans—rather than something like brushed wool trousers—for a relaxed yet stylish look. Think about the context in which you might wear a particular material, then pair that material with other textures to subvert expectations.

Mix textures, match colors. Sticking to a more limited color palette will give you free range to play with different kinds of textures. That doesn’t mean you have to dress in monochrome: You can use neutral colors to anchor your look, or choose two or three solid colors that work together.

Source ⚜ More: Notes ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs ⚜ How to Describe Clothing

#writing resources

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