From Lady to Gunslinger: A Red Dead Redemption 2 Original Character.
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Do any of my fellow RDR cowpokes agree? 👀

Like, honestly, why choose? They're attractive af in their own ways. 😳

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Controversial opinion, Arthur’s hat does not look good on John.
I know y’all often like putting him in it, but John has a great hat of his own. Also I feel like the hat itself is too tall for John’s head. It looks GREAT on Arthur, but not really John.


Arthur’s hat makes his face look really small, and the brim just doesn’t match his face shape. Meanwhile, John’s hat fits perfectly! It accentuates his cheekbones and it doesn’t make the top of his head look compressed!

+ it’s got the cutest little feather ever! (How could you not like that?)

Of course it looks perfect on the head it’s meant to sit on, so I don’t mean any hate to Arthur’s hat. And it looks great on Arthur because it accentuates this features just right!
Anyways, I just love John’s hat, I know y’all wear Arthur’s hat in his honor, but I think it’s also good to have John be his own unique person, and wear his own unique hat 💗
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john really hunted down and killed the last remaining members of his gang
call that homiecide
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reblog for, luck, love & happiness in 2020, 2021, 2022, 2023! ♡
I made this blog in late 2018 before the game was even released and want to remind each and every one of you how much I love all of the love you give me!
Happy New Year!
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Title: Red Dead Revenge: Kiss of Death [Part 8 ]
Pairing: Arthur Morgan x OC x John Marston
Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Rape
Summary: Maeve is feeling cramped up and Arthur decides to take her fishing, not without a couple of people that want to join however.
A/N: Finally! I have returned! And with a brand new chapter picking up where we left off! Hope you enjoy!
Chapter 8: Hook, Line and Sinner
Maeve was staring at the newspaper, puffing on a freshly lit premium cigarette, flipping through each page and scanning the articles to see if any news had been reported about them. Yes, them being her sick obsession. Her new reason for living. The two men that ruined everything by going too damn far. Mike and Phil Bollard along with their gang of diabolical lackies.
She blew out the smoke that collected in her lungs all over page two's piece on Blackwater's Eleventh Annual Bird Shooting contest. The first three places were taken by contenders Maeve recognized from prior years of beating them. The girl flipped the next page of the newspaper finding a story about a home robbery and kidnapping outside of Strawberry, but robbers were unknown. It would be something to investigate.
"Miss!" Maeve's head looked up to see a tracker working from his stand, holding the cougar pelt Maeve had scored a few days ago. Since her fight with Abigail, she hasn't necessarily seen John. More so avoiding him. When he didn't come see her that night, Maeve took that as a bad sign and just wasn't ready to hear his reasoning. She's been kept busy doing chores with Mrs. Grimshaw who has not spoken about what happened that night. None of the girls around camp have for that matter. Mostly due to Susan telling the girls, "I don't wanna hear any lip about that fight. It ain't none of our business and I will not have any fuss over it. Understand!"
Maeve hasn't really seen Abigail either, which was cleverly orchestrated by Mrs. Grimshaw. Having either Abigail focus on dishes or other close campus chores while sending Maeve to do laundry or chores that are more on the outside of camp with Tilly. Maeve did find herself doing the errands that required riding into town. Hosea often requested the mail be checked, always saying how Dutch was expecting a letter or how urgent it was that Hosea's letters get to the post.
"They think I'm not seein' these things, but I do! I ain't that dumb!" Maeve would complain to Arthur, who has been one of the only people she spoken to these past few days. After hugging Arthur, realizing how much she can trust him, Maeve started to spend time with him.
"They know you're not dumb. That's why they keep sending you off to do things for them," he would say in a humorous tone. Arthur was enjoying their time together even though he knew it was to distract her from her more unpleasant thoughts. Maeve would go into his tent to straighten it up to purge the tables of empty bottles and bowls or opened books and scattered papers. His dirtied clothes would be on the ground after a long day of doing 'work for the gang' and Maeve would just toss it all in a basket. For being the only person sleeping in his tent, Arthur somehow always managed to make a mess out of it.
When Maeve would go in there to clean up, her and Arthur always got into depth in their conversations about old stories they read to bits of Arthur growing up in the gang. He went into details about their first bank job together, the small slip ups that occurred but the overall success of it. It amused Maeve so much that she smiled at the end of it.
Maeve approached the stand, digging out the money she needed while flicking away the cigarette, "All finished up, Ma'am. With fine stitchin' you got yourself there one nice coat for the winter." She handed over the money to him, "Thank you, now that's one thing off the list." She took the wrapped-up article of clothing and put it under her arm, no way was she wearing that thing in this heat.
She had walked over to the post office, tripping over the leg of a man that had sat in the middle of the entry way. After an irritated shake of her head, Maeve went to ask for the mail, "One moment while I go collect it." The postman she had come to know as Frank usually gave her this specific look every time the girl came in. Maeve wasn't sure what to make of it, was he sizing her up to see if Maeve caused any issues in the town of Armadillo or was that just how his face rested.
The girl decided to look over the strange article she saw earlier and managed to find a name of the surviving victim. Her name was Alma Gouin, around the age of fifty-three. She had to hear her daughter and son-in-law being tortured and shot before hearing her granddaughter screaming when these robbers tied her up to be taken away. All the while old Alma had to listen to all this from the top attic where she sleeps.
Maeve had a gut feeling that these might be the men she's looking for. She pulled out the journal Arthur got her and started to scribble away a letter, "Can I purchase an envelope and stamp from you?" she asked still writing.
She had handed over a letter to the post man with the address made out to Alma while in return she was given three letters. One for Hosea, he always had one of these waiting for him. The next letter was for Dutch, must be the one he's been waiting on. The last one was unexpectedly for Arthur and the handwriting looked feminine. Maeve flipped the back of the envelope to see the return address was to a Mary Linton.
_______________________________________________________
When walking over to the saloon Maeve wondered who this Mary Linton was and what business did Arthur have with her? He certainly never mentioned her or even said he was expecting to hear any news from this person. Maeve then became curious as to if it was a past love of his. Her eyes got a little big thinking of that idea.
"Why should I care anyway?" she said more to herself when looking down at the letter, debating to rip it open and find out what this lady wanted. Then what? Hand Arthur an envelope with a broken seal telling him got a private letter. That would look well.
Going through the doors, Maeve stuffed the letters in her saddle to find Arthur leaning against the bar with two shoots of whiskey in front of him, "Miss Milley," he smiled over at her and slid a glass over to her when she was close enough, "Get everything you needed to get done?"
"Yes," She glanced at the shot glass for a moment, "This a good idea? Remember last time we were here?"
"You made me dance with you for a moment and thought I had a twin. I remember quite well," he chuckled, "It's just one."
"Hmm," Maeve picked up the glass and threw her head back to drink it. She hissed out from the burn, "Still not use to that," her voice wheezed. Arthur watched her, amused with her reaction before standing up straight, "We should get you back."
Maeve groaned out and he turned to her, "What? Sick of us already?"
"You? No way in hell," Arthur made an awe noise acting touched, "Sick of being whispered about? Sick of getting dirty looks from Abigail? And Little Jack for that matter? Sick of getting treated like I'm some fragile object? Most definitely."
He couldn’t help sympathizing, "I'm sure Jack is just mimickin' his mother." She scoffed, "She was nowhere around!"
Arthur shrugged, "Guess he hates ya."
"Terrific," Maeve's voice was not excitable. Arthur set down his shot glass, "You fish much?"
Maeve shook her head, "Too busy shootin' birds."
"We should go. Catch fish. Talk without wondering who's listening. There's a river above Blackwater, right?" He suggested to her.
"Just you and me?" She rose an eyebrow at him.
"Oh sorry. Did you wanna invite Abigail and Jack along?" He teased her. Maeve couldn't help the laugh that escaped her throat. "God no."
Back at camp Arthur went to find his spare fishing rod for this trip while Maeve went to pack a few things not knowing when they'd be back. When opening her saddle bag, she saw the letters that she picked up in the mail today. She had no idea what to make of the one Arthur received but figured asking the one person that knows Arthur best.
Walking up to the two leading men of this gang, she held up the letters to Dutch and Hosea, "Mail for you two," keeping Arthur's in her other hand.
"Splendid! I have been waiting almost three weeks for this," Dutch took the letter from her going to open it up.
During these past few days, Hosea had been trying his best to get to know Maeve after their hunting trip. He saw she was educated when she stopped to read one of the books around Arthur's tent along with writing down in her journal. He was surprised in her knowledge of stars along with knowing old Greek myths relating to the constellations.
Maeve glanced at Hosea who took his letter but set it down on the table. Maeve figured he'd read it now, "Aren't you gonna open it?"
Hosea shook his head, "It can wait. Just some scam I'm pulling," Maeve nodded once before watching Dutch going over to sit down on his sofa, "What's Mister Van Der Linde been waitin' on?"
Hosea rolled his eyes, "A letter from some girl he's taken a fancy to. Rich and Irish," Maeve chuckled, "Oh, I heard of pen pals, but I didn't know it could--"
"It doesn't," Hosea finished, "There's been a lot of talk of her trying to come here to 'travel' with us. I think it's a waste of time."
"Guess we'll see--" a bark of laughter from Dutch cut her off and Hosea noticed what was in Maeve's hands, "What's that?" he nodded.
"Oh, I actually did want to talk to you about this. It's for Arthur. It's from some woman," Maeve explained and Hosea held his hand up and worry in his eyes, "Give it here."
She held it further away from the man, as if protecting it, "But it's Arthur's."
"Yes, but I know what's best for Arthur. Why else did you want to speak to me about this," he countered. Maeve leaned in closer to whisper, "Is it a lover?"
"It's a damn nightmare. Letter. Now," Hosea demanded. Maeve handed it over to him without hesitation. He inspected it for a moment, seeing the seal of a 'M.L.' then cracked it open to pull out the letter.
"Hosea!" Maeve hissed, "How could you?"
"Oh, stow it! You're just as curious as I am," he said bringing it in close so he could read it. Maeve didn't even defend herself and instead moved to where she could also read the letter over the man's shoulder.
She must have been reading at a fast pace, skipping over words that looked like scribbles due to Mary's terrible handwriting as stated at the start of the letter, "Who taught her to write?" Maeve muttered under her breath. Hosea gave her a questioning look but ultimately held in a chuckle. As the letter continues Mary goes on to recall of the old days her and Arthur shared when they were so full of hope and promise. Maeve groaned at this cringey paragraph, wanting to vomit.
"You okay Miss Milley? If the letter is too much for you to bare--" Hosea said in a mocking tone. "Shush! I'm still reading it," Maeve will never admit this to anyone, but she could feel that jealousy in her own gut boil at every "Oh Arthur!" that this woman wrote. Eventually the letter was requesting if Arthur meet up in Strawberry for a chance to catch up.
Maeve was at a loss for words when finishing the letter. This Mary, this woman was someone that clearly had a history with Arthur, that much was known from the way she wrote to him. The other thing she noticed was how much they must have loved each other, enough for Hosea to recall it all as a nightmare. That past relationship must have ended in a lot of heart break. The only question was who took the most damage, Mary or Arthur? The last thing on her mind was why did Maeve have a strange feeling after reading this letter. Was this guilt? Maybe she shouldn't have looked at this private conversation. Even she despised the fact her relationship to John was now know to everyone here.
John. He was such a dilemma on his own for Maeve. She's never met anyone that she can be so infuriated at yet still hold a place in her heart. The real reason she's been avoiding John was she doesn't think she's ready to take his rejection about whatever it is they can be. Part of Maeve did want that second chance, but then that other part kicks her in the ass.
"Probably gonna ask a favor of the man. Poor fool," Hosea said closing up the letter. He glanced over to see Maeve stuck in her head. He snapped his fingers to draw her attention, "You here?"
"We have to reseal it," Maeve said to Hosea with her hands on her hips. Hosea looked back at her as she continued, "He has to read this for himself without knowing that we opened this up."
"Or we don't show him, and he doesn't get sucked up in whatever Mrs. Linton's problems are."
Maeve shook her head, "Hosea even you know that's not right. Besides what if he finds out?" Hosea let out an irritated sigh, "Miss Milley, you haven't seen Arthur when it comes to Mary. It's as if nothing else matters and he'll go far out of his way to do whatever it is she demands. Like a dog itching to have a bone. It's better if he doesn't know and you keep giving me any letters from her."
As much as Maeve didn't like the idea of Mary having this hold on Arthur, she went up to Hosea to take the letter back which he wasn't expecting, "Are you mad?"
"You have no idea!" Maeve held the letter far back from the man as he tried to reach for it, "But you're madder for keeping this from him. What if someone did this to you? Keepin' a letter from your loved one, someone you might want a second chance with."
Hosea stopped trying to grab the paper and instead looked at her, "You have no idea what box you're about to open up, Sweet Pandora."
Maeve rolled her eyes and then put the letter back in the envelope. She glanced around the tent to see a candle that was lit and went over to it. Hosea watched her for a moment before asking, "The hell are you doing?"
She picked up the candle to hold it to the seal seeing it melt the wax, "I don't want him knowing we read it. How embarrassing would that be?"
"The way you’re holding it is gonna--" before the older man could finish his sentence the paper had caught fire, "Holy hell!" Maeve quickly let go of the letter as it caught flame.
She had hiked up her skirt so the girl could step on the fire to put it out. Hosea on the other hand grabbed a blanket to toss over it, successfully putting it out, "Are you okay?" he asked her.
"I'm fine, but the letter!" she pulled the blanket up to meet with burnt pieces of paper, "God damn it!"
Hosea after a moment of silence chuckled at her, "Oh Miss Milley, it was probably for the best, bless your kind heart," he continued to laugh between his words. Maeve was not finding any of this humorous. She looked at Hosea, defeated at idea of her trying help only resulted in causing a fire. Hosea continued to chuckle at her clumsiness. How it reminded him of when the Arthur and John were younger.
"Miss Milley?" Arthur had called from outside the tent. Her eyes were large when she glared at Hosea. He placed a finger over his lips signaling for her to say nothing of the letter, "She's in here."
The man came in and saw a guilty faced Maeve while his nostrils smelled smoke, "What is that? Something cookin'?"
"Nope!"
"No idea," Hosea said at the same time with the girl. Arthur stared at them oddly, "Right, Miss were you about ready?"
She nodded, "Yes, sir. We should go," Maeve hurried out of the tent as Hosea tried not to laugh when he realized she was gonna keep the letter from him, or at least not speak of it now.
Arthur was still rather confused when watching Maeve scurry off and observing Hosea's face, "What is going on with you guys?"
The older man shot back, "What's going on with you guys?" Arthur shifted in his stance, "Just fishing."
Hosea's eyebrows rose up, "Just you two? Can I join?"
"No!" Arthur's brow furrowed. Hosea scoffed, shaking his head, "I see how it is then."
Keeping his voice low, Arthur told him, "The kid just needs to get out of camp. Hasn't been easy on her past few days."
"I get that," Hosea went to stand, approaching the man, "I think you two should have a talk."
"A talk?" Arthur glanced out the tent to see Maeve kicking a small rock to the side waiting on him.
Hosea leaned in a bit closer, "An honest talk where you both tell the other what you're keeping from them."
"Is she keeping something from me?"
"Aren't you keeping something from her?" Hosea said knowing that wasn't a question, "You should tell the girl, Arthur. She has a right to know."
Arthur stared at him, but he simply murmured, "I don't know if I have it in me," with that he left the tent.
Maeve let out a sigh that Arthur was taking so long, hoping Hosea said nothing about her burning Mary's letter. She started to rub the back of her neck when hearing a, "You do that when you're nervous."
She turned around to see John walking up to her. Maeve instantly stopped that gesture, "What's troubling you?" he asked her. The girl was just near burning a hole in his head, "Why do you care?"
"I'm not allowed to?" He tilted his head, "Why you been avoiding me?"
Maeve crossed her arms, "Didn't realize I had," she lied.
"Oh? Then the other day when you were carrying laundry, you turning quickly on your heel right after seeing me walk towards you, that wasn't you avoiding me," John wanted to clarify.
"I didn't even see you. I forgot I left Uncle's union suit behind," she quickly answered, "Sure, but you see me now, right?" John stared at her and she nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat, "What's got you on edge?"
Maeve opened her mouth and saw just the man that was on her mind, "Arthur!"
"Miss Milley. Sorry I kept you waiting," he eyed the leaner man, "John. Pleasure seeing you here." John glanced at them both, "Where you two going?"
"Fishing," Arthur said leading Maeve to the horses with John following behind, "Just you two?"
"Yes," Maeve answered as they got to the horses. John ran up in front of them, so they'd stop, "I wanna go."
Arthur rolled his eyes, "You hate water, you idiot."
"But I like fishing," he shrugged. Arthur shook his head, voice subtly growling, "No... you don't." Maeve's ears picked up on that.
"Yes," John stepped closer to Arthur, "I do." They shared a scowl that has been heated for a while. Maeve, rather small when compared to the outlaws, went to stand between the two, "Excuse me, Gentlemen? I believe I also get a say in this?"
They both turned to her as she then continued, "John, I'd rather you stay here, but since you'd probably follow us anyway you might as well come along," John hid the smirk he wanted to flash Arthur who was not happy about this. "Besides, we can always use you as bait," Maeve snarked at him while walking to Liability.
John tipped his hat to Arthur, "The lady has spoken," he then went to grab the bedroll from his tent. Arthur clutched a fist longing to strike John, but then instead loosened his grip to hurry back over to one particular tent, popping his head in to say, "You can join us."
Hosea looked up from the piece of paper he was reading to meet Arthur's eyes.
_______________________________________________________
The four rode the trail all the way up to Upper Montana River. The entire ride up was filled with silence apart from Hosea's whistling he'd do. John had a lot he wanted to say to Maeve, while Arthur did as well. Maeve didn't know where to start with either of them, but that's not what was eating at her. She just hoped not a word about Mary's letter was breathed by the old man.
When they got to the river, they dismounted at a decent enough spot to get started. Maeve took one of the fishing rods and went over to where the water was streaming at a much calmer rate.
"You'll need bait!" Hosea called out to her and then nodded his head at Arthur, "Go help her." He then saw John about to walk over when he stopped him, "John, help me get a fire started." The youngest man sighed.
Arthur stuck a hand in his pocket, "Here, this should get you a bite," he handed her a small clump of cheese. Maeve rose an eyebrow at him, "I thought a worm is what you use?"
He shook his head, "You can, but the scent of cheese attracts fish too. Besides, I'm not carryin' around worms in my pocket, Miss Milley."
"Just smelly cheese," Maeve teased getting him to chuckle, "It works."
She hooked the piece of food to the lure then was about to cast it off until Arthur placed his hands on her shoulder, "Wait. Can I show you a trick on how to cast out?" Maeve nodded and he went to go behind her, using his hands to position her posture a certain way. He pushed her elbows up more than what they were, "Have them like that," Arthur said in a low voice. Maeve did exactly as he instructed, "And the more you pull back to cast, the farther the line goes out. Since this is a river, try not to have it go to shore on the other side of the river."
When John would look over all he saw was Arthur having his arms around a girl he used to call his. A girl that was smiling when another man was talking to her. A girl he should have stayed with instead of leaving. John felt his stomach tying in knots as Hosea snapped his fingers to get his attention, "The wood's not gonna collect itself." John gave him a glare as Hosea said, "Help an old man out."
"I'm starting to think the old man is helpin' out someone other than me," he started to pick up large sticks that were laying at the roots of a tree.
"That's a good thing. You're starting to think," He smiled at a not amused John, "She did say I could come along. Doesn't that mean she would like to enjoy my company also? Not just Arthur's."
Maeve had cast out the line to land in the middle of the river and Arthur patting her on the back for landing a good spot. He also cast out his line once he got his fishing rod ready.
"John, if there's one thing you must know in life it's that sweet girls like Miss Milley don't wanna hurt anyone's feelings, especially people that are special to her."
John dropped the collection of wood he gathered in front of the man, "You find her to be sweet?"
"Don't you?"
John thought of all the times he's witnessed Maeve become angry, throwing a shot glass in his direction, stabbing a robber behind the Armadillo Train Station, her fight with Abigail, "She has her moments. I'd be more worried about pissing her off. You do that right and it's good-bye sugar and candy." He then gazed over at her.
She stood on a flat rock, wondering when she would get a nibble, "How long until I get a bite?"
"The key to fishing is patience, the fish will come to you," Arthur said. Maeve rolled her eyes, "Rather just shoot 'em."
"You start firing your gun off you'll scare away all animals in the area, meaning no dinner for anyone," Arthur flicked his line.
Before Maeve could say anything there was a tug pulling on the line, "Oh my, I think I have a bite!" Arthur pointed to her hook keeper, "Start reeling!" she did just that until a dark brown boot popped out of the water, swinging towards her. Maeve made a small frown when seeing it, "What a load of horse shit!"
Arthur laughed when she went to take it off her hook, "Don't feel so bad, Miss Milley. Happens more often than you know."
Eventually, Arthur had caught a couple fish while Maeve caught nothing. They were welcomed back with a campfire with John and Hosea.
"Ah what did you catch for dinner?" the older man asked seeing Maeve go over to her satchel to take out a can, "Arthur had a nice catch. Caught a load of nothing," she said bluntly when opening up the can, the scent of strawberries seeping out. John smirked at her knowing that red fruit was going to be all she ate, "Never been much of a fisher, have you?"
"Give yourself more credit, Miss Milley. You did catch a boot," he chuckled with John. Maeve sulked when scooping out a berry, "Go on, make fun."
Hosea hushed them, "Like the two of you never caught your share of boots when you first started. Hell, Arthur you would go buy fish from the market and say you spent all day at the lake."
Arthur groaned a bit from the memory with cheeks slightly reddened, "And John...the biggest fish you caught was Bill. Your hook caught on to him when you went to cast it out." John felt embarrassed and remembered how Bill chase after him for the mishap.
Maeve laughed at them, "I might have caught a boot, but it was honest work," she popped another berry in her mouth.
"You'll catch a fish one day, Miss," Hosea said getting up to help Arthur cook the food. Maeve sat down by the fire keeping a bit of a distance away from John, who scooted closer to her anyway, "This is nice. Just us out here."
Maeve, with a full strawberry in her mouth, stared at him for a moment before chewing. John continued, "It's a beautiful spot. It's not too far from Blackwater either," his eyes did become soft aft a moment, wanting to ask her a question that's been on his mind.
She swallowed her food, "What?" the girl knew he wanted to say something. John saw the other two men were still busy, "Arthur says you don't ever plan on going back."
Maeve's eyes held her focus on John, "Nothing to go back to. I'm not sorry that this makes problems for you."
The corner of John's lip slightly lifted, "I don't want you to go," Maeve could feel herself becoming elevated as he continued to speak and he could see the subtle tells on her face, the way her pupils flooded like a full moon. "It took me a while to realize that I don't want to see you leave, Mae. Not ever."
Their gaze on each other held for so long that Maeve had to turn her head away, a genuine smile on her face, "Oh John. Don't make me do this."
He had leaned a little closer to her, "Do what? I'm not makin' you do anything."
Her head shift to where she was facing him, John's face closer than she thought. The tension between them, thick as ever, "This," Maeve went to stand up on her feet. With a single glare from the woman she made a soft frown, starting to walk away from him.
"It's ready," Hosea said over his shoulder as John watched Maeve walk towards the river, "John!" Hosea called again and the man grunted when standing up, "I'm going!"
Arthur had noticed Maeve walk off, seeming unhappy from her conversation with John. He went to follow her. When approaching her, he had stopped a distance away taking in the sight of her back towards him. Maeve's arms were crossed as she scanned the view of the river, scattered trees and night sky with all the stars.
He had cleared his throat, "Nice night this evening," taking a few steps closer, "Almost wasteful to see you not enjoying' it."
Maeve's attention went to the man before her. She gave him a smirk when saying, "Where did you get that idea, Mister Morgan?"
"I got a feelin'," he was standing next to her, looking down, "Was I right?"
Maeve had perched her lips not quite meeting his gaze, debating on her emotions, "Perhaps, but the night's still young." It was there her eyes shifted to his, "Come have a walk with me?" she asked him.
Arthur looked back to the campfire to see Hosea and John talking while having fish, "Sure."
When they were further away from the small camp, Maeve let out a chuckle after hearing one of Arthur's stories when he was younger, camping on his own for the first time away from the gang.
“With the way I set up the tent poles and the wind blowin’ in the direction it was, my tent was bound to catch on fire. Had to sleep under the stars in the cold with no bedroll or dinner,” he said with an amused expression, enjoying that he had her smiling.
“Sounds like you had a rough time,” Maeve looked down at her boots to see the ground she was walking on.
“Yet here you are giggling at my hardships,” he said in a teasing tone, eyeing her smirk. How he could get lost in just observing every physical gesture or movement that she does. Arthur could see why John stuck around Blackwater, only difference is he would not have left. Then came that shameful feeling he always got when he thought of Maeve for too long. The shame of almost being the one to rob her and her family.
They were approaching a large rock that was sticking out of the earth. The girl lifted her head to catch his gaze, the first-time witnessing Arthur actually staring with affectionate eyes that Maeve cleared her throat to break him out of it, “Well, what can I say? I do like seeing you in turmoil. You should have seen your face when you re-bandaged my wound,” she wanted to see how much Arthur could get flustered. The answer was very much from the way his cheeks turned a light shade of red when remembering her bare skin.
“I knew you’d bring that up again one of these days,” Arthur slowly stopped in his steps as did Maeve with a mischievous smirk on her face from succeeding, “If you must know, Miss, it’s been a while since I’ve been in the company of a… exposed lady. Especially one of the likes of you.”
An eyebrow rose, “And just what does that mean?” Maeve questioned crossing her arms, slowly taking steps towards Arthur, wanting to hear this.
“Well, for one you are not a delicate flower like I first thought. You don’t have a problem standin’ up for yourself where most women would be meek,” Arthur had taken a step back as she got closer to him, “Really? That all you like about me?”
Arthur’s back had touched the large rock that was there, and Maeve stopped, being arm’s length away. His mind was running many thoughts on what she was doing, why she was questioning him like this. Her head tilted to the side waiting for his answer.
“No, that ain’t even close to being it,” her eyes had that intensity that excited him, “Ever since the night we met, you’ve kept surprising me with being unlike anything I’ve seen before.”
Maeve’s face softened at his words as he raised his hand up to gently cup the side of her face. His thumb brushed the flesh of her cheek while their gaze held. She then took the only chance Maeve knew she would get before having to tell him about the letter, remembering the woman that sent it.
Her lips pressed to Arthur’s moving against his. He didn’t even fight it at first, the soft lips of Maeve captivated the man, having longed for this kind of affection. As they kissed, Arthur had not noticed that he had backed up against the rock. They held their closeness until Maeve pulled away to move her lips to his neck where Arthur took a deep breath.
“Maeve,” his voice said lowly while she kept her mouth on his skin, giving him soft nips with her teeth. Arthur let out a small groan, his eyes opened to look down at her. His heart swelled, wanting her to keep going; however Arthur placed his hands on her shoulders to gently pull her away.
“What’s wrong?” Her eyes went to meet his wondering what his thoughts were.
Arthur cupped her face, instead of seeing her all he could see were the bodies of Mr. and Mrs. Milley that he had buried, “This. We shouldn’t be doing this. Not after everything.”
Maeve shook her head along with the confusion she felt to take off his hat and card his hair with her fingers, “Why not? I see how you look at me and I’ve been attracted to you since I first saw you,” she moved her hands down to the top button on his shirt to pop one open, “There’s nothing wrong,” another button popped, “Why fight this?”
His breath hitched as Maeve leaned into kiss Arthur on the lips, “Just give in…” she whispered while undoing more buttons. He wrapped his arms around her body as their kiss deepened. Her heart was pounding but his lips left hers, a somber expression on his face, “Maeve you ain’t thinking straight. You want me cause you’re vulnerable and I ain’t taking advantage like that.”
Maeve let out a soft whine, “But I want this. I do! Please Arthur,” she reached down to his belt, touching the buckle. Had he been a lower man, he would have just given in and distracted Miss Milley of her troubles by making her feel good. Arthur went to grab her hands, “I can’t do this to you. Not when we have to talk about something important.”
“It can’t wait?” Maeve groaned staring at his chest then his face.
He needed to do as Hosea said, have an honest talk with her about that night. Arthur knew if he did not and she found out what happened by any one besides himself, he would lose her. “I’ve put it off long enough.”
That sparked dread in her stomach. He knew. He knew about the letter she burnt up. Hosea must have let it slip while they were preparing the fish, while she was busy talking to John. She might as well come clean and explain herself, “Hosea told you then. Arthur, I swear it was an accident.”
His eyes winced, “Accident? What are you goin’ on about?”
Now Maeve was starting to doubt what he did know, “Your letter…from Mary.” His eyes got larger at the mention of the name, “My letter from Mary?”
He didn’t know then, “I set it on fire,” Maeve confessed to the man that had pulled further away, “On fire? How the hell did you manage that?”
She had a more flushed expression to her face, “I tried resealing the letter…after opening it up to read…” Arthur stared at her, baffled she did all of this, “It was Hosea’s idea!”
He groaned out while covering his face from the humiliation, “He read it too!” Maeve crossed her arms, now that their moment was ruined, “What did she say?” Arthur asked.
Begrudgingly, Maeve told him, “Something about meeting up with you in Strawberry. Excuse for not remembering more but it was hard to read her chicken scratch.”
Arthur caught that bitter tone, “Are you…jealous?” That was surprising to him. Maeve shook her head while pointing to herself, “Of what? I had a proper education in literacy.”
“You are!” Arthur chuckled out before having to regain his composure. Maeve rolled her eyes, “Ya clearly didn’t know any of this. What the hell did you have to tell me that you had to stop whatever it is we were doin’?”
The man then had dread resurface within himself. This conversation he would rather avoid but can’t now.
“Maeve, the night we met, I wasn’t just passin’ through Blackwater,” he started, “I got tipped off about a house that had gold in it. Some stableman got lucky an found a bunch of gold bars in some abandoned train.”
Maeve stared at him in disbelief. That was her father, Everett. How that information got out was beyond her, but it was her mother letting it slip out to a prospector she was so kind to feed breakfast one morning. His repayment was to tell Arthur about the gold once he was saved from wolves.
“Later in the night, after we met at the saloon, I went to go see this house. Get the gold and bring it back to the gang, but…”
Maeve finished for him not making eye contact anymore, “That’s where you found me, running for my life,” her tone was almost emotionless. Almost, the sparks of rage were just igniting. Arthur didn’t see this yet, “I swear, I had no idea it would be your house I was going to. If I had got there first…maybe—”
Her cold brown eyes snapped right to his, “Maybe what? You’d rob us and only beat up my daddy? Smack around my mama? Hmm?”
“No—no—” Maeve cut him off, “We’d be in bigger trouble if ya robbed us first. Hell, maybe I’d have died quicker since there was nothing valuable to collect. How would you have robbed us, Arthur? Would you ask politely for the gold? With your gun pointed right at my mama—no, at me?”
“Maeve, no! That’s not what I’m getting’ at!” Arthur wanted to believe if had saw her with her family that he would have left them alone, but that could just be him lying to himself.
“What are you getting’ at?” Maeve shouted, “If my daddy refused to give you the gold would ya have raped my mama like the Bollard Twins did? Or go after me since we hit it off so well? What exactly would you have done different if it were you robbin’ us, Arthur?” He could see the angry tears in her eyes, knowing whatever he said was just going to infuriate her more.
“Miss Milley, that is not how I am. If I was robbin’ you…maybe I could have helped your family from those awful men. I can’t know for certain how things would be different, but I can promise you it would not have happened the way it did that night.”
Maeve scorned at him as he reached out to her, “If I could take back my intentions, I would. I wish I was just riding through on the off chance of seeing you in the rain.” She had leaned back so he wouldn’t touch her, “You can’t.”
Arthur reeled his hand back in defeat, “I can’t.” Nothing but dead silence was shared between the two.
The woman, still angry, turned on her heel to walk back towards their campsite, leaving Arthur all alone. The closer she got to the fire the more Maeve didn’t want to be there. Hosea would ask where Arthur was. Worst of all he would see the expression on her face and question that, but not just him. John would too. Maeve glanced off to the side where some trees were was a shack, a place that fishers could set up their reels, leave some supplies, or just hide from the sun for a bit.
She decided to walk up there, to hide in until everyone was sleeping. When she entered the shack, it couldn’t have been bigger than an Uncle laying down along and across the floor boards. A beaten-up table was pushed against the wall and a broken chair was tucked under it. As far as supplies goes, there was an old bucket that reeked of fish and some rusty hooks were scattered around. Maeve plucked the hooks on the table, tossing them in the bucket then tossed that outside.
She sat in the chair and pulled her journal out from her saddle bag, beginning to write in it. Hosea said she needed to find her reason to live, Maeve couldn’t think of anything better than taking the lives of the ones that ruined hers. She wrote down Mike and Phil Bollard at the top of her ‘list’. Followed after it was a man named Bob, the gang member that escaped with the twins that night. She was going to find these men, find them and put her through the same misery they did to her.
Before she could write anymore there was a knock at the door to this shack. Maeve stood up and shut the journal to open it up, “John?”
He placed his forearm against the doorframe to lean on it, “I’d ask what you’re doing in a smelly shack, but you’ve been doing questionable things lately I figured it’s best I don’t ask.”
“What do you want?” Maeve said staring at him. He then went to slip his slender self through the woman and the door, “I just wanna talk.”
“You could have done that a few nights ago,” Maeve reminded him. John gritted his teeth, “Yeah, that’s actually what I wanted to talk about. Why I didn’t.” She stared at him waiting for him to explain, “Abigail just wouldn’t stop her hollering at me over you. Saying how you were gonna pay for all the trouble you’ve caused our family. I only stayed back so she wouldn’t start anymore of her shit.”
Maeve rolled her eyes, “Well, don’t think I’m just gonna take whatever she can some up with.” John shook his head, “I’d expect no less.”
After a moment of quiet John felt he needed to get out something, he’s been wanting to say for a while, “Truth is, since you’ve been back in my life, I’m starting to feel everything we had back when were together in Blackwater. It’s not doing what’s right to Abigail and Jack, thinking about being with you,” John continued, “I’ve never been no saint, but I did want to try with them again after seeing how wholesome you and your family were. I wanted that.”
Maeve felt her heart being stabbed at their memory, “John—”
“I’m not done,” Maeve nodded so he can finish, “I thought it should be with them, but Mae—I want that with you instead.” Her mouth parted open, “You’re the only person I ever felt I can be free with. I didn’t have to be a certain person for you. And I know you still have some feelings for me.”
He was staring at her, deeply into her brown orbs, “I mean why else did you want to sit by me at the campfire? Why else did you lie for me when I begged you? Or even ask me to come along today?”
John was getting closer to Maeve now who backed up against the table, “Mae, I’m tired of denying what we have. Aren’t you?”
Maeve bit her bottom lip, “John, we— how can we ever come back from that? You did what you did.”
John reached his hands up to hold the sides of her face in a gentle manner, “I’m doing this now,” he leaned in to press his lips to hers. Maeve’s hands gripped the edge of the table out of surprise, but she took it all in. This kiss was something she wanted so much from the day he left.
She had pulled her head back to look at John, as if giving him one last warning, “Don’t make me do this, John.”
He shook his head, “Do what? I’m not makin’ you do anything.” John was praying she wouldn’t leave again.
“This,” her hands caressed the sides of his face as she placed a soft kiss on his lips now. He went to grip her by her waist, to hold her in place during their passionate kissing, just like how they used to.
#arthur morgan#arthur morgan/oc#John Marston#john marston/oc#rdr2#rdr2 fanfic#rdr2 oc#rdr2 original character
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"It never was about the money."
💝 If you want to support my artworks: Patreon - Ko-fi
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I would literally EMPTY my entire bank account, and put myself into crippling debt to see this 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
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Miss Maeve Milley - Bird Shooting Champion | Bath Maid | A Gunwoman
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Hearing that sentence had just about sent her back. To the very position of those men holding her down, getting ready to do the unthinkable.
"Let's get that dress off of you," she heard her tormentor. Joe had her arms pulled back as Darren lowered his head to pull the laces at her blouse. Everything had slowed down around the girl, deep in her gut something exploded filling her with one instinct, survive. Like a feral animal Maeve leaned forward baring her teeth to bite down hard on Darren's ear then pulled back to tear part of it off. He let out a pained scream from the unexpected attack, "You little bitch!" he back handed her across the face but when it should have weakened her, it just fueled her rage.
Maeve's thoughts snapped back at the camp, "I'm well aware, Mister. Why else would I offer to be your subordinate?" She glanced over to see Mrs. Grimshaw getting prepared for doing chores. The elder woman had shown her kindness since arriving as if seeing the trauma on Maeve's face, "I'll speak to her about givin' me tasks around camp."
Her eyes did glance at a section of the camp where some of the men were resting, all of them had a gun within reach. She knew the kind of men they were or at least an idea. At least these folk were decent, letting her stay here. "You don't have to worry about me causin' trouble, sir. I'm sure y'all get yourselves in enough of that," her voice had dripped out sass at the end there.
myfairgunslinger:
The much smaller woman in scale had walked up to him, her height reaching to be as tall as where his chin was. Mister Morgan, the name she got from the older woman Mrs. Grimshaw when she had woken up; he looked much different in the daylight as a opposed to the setting of a dark and stormy night.
At his question, Maeve couldn’t help the disgruntled expression that had appeared on her face, “No.” She had answered. There was no way she would ever feel any better from this, at least this was what the young lady thought at the time.
Brushing off the question, Maeve had taken in a subtle breath while trying to hold eye contact with him, “Mister Morgan, I did not have the chance to say this sooner, but I hope you understand the reasoning.”
She looked him in his eyes and mustered all the gratitude in her words, “Thank you for doing what you did. Saving me. I want you to know that I am in your debt. Whatever you need to be done don’t hesitate to ask.”
Maeve then offered, “Your laundry? I’ll take care of it. Horse needs tendin’ to? My pa is–was a stable man. I’ll do it. I’d offer to help cook, but you have a man for that so I’ll just bring you food. If you need me to send off a letter or fetch mail,” Maeve pointed to herself.
“I’ll do it all. Please, let me do something anything to repay you and to keep my mind distracted,” Her voice begged at the end there.
This woman had gone through hell by the lines on her face, as well as the way she would have nightmares. He was convinced the cries he heard in the night were hers, he knew how people sounded in the camp. This wasn’t anybody else. Arthur deduced she had her own trauma like the rest of the gang, whilst Dutch wouldn’t care too much about it, curiosity grew to know her story. With her reply, she wasn’t too ready to divulge that just yet. He would be patient. “It’s alright miss, you were in a mess when I found you. You can stay here until you decide what you wanna do. ” he replied calmly, he usually held a softer approach with the women, manners cost nothing. Dutch had taught him that well. His hands rested on the gun belt wrapped comfortably around his waist, a motion he’d do out of habit when he was more relaxed.
Her willingness to help out whenever she could sparked his interest, she was an eager one. A trait that Dutch would admire. “Maybe you can go and talk to miss Grimshaw to see what she has for you. I’m not really the one delegating around here.” When it came to the work of the women, he usually stayed out of it. “I don’t really care what you do. Just as you so long as don’t go causin’ any trouble.” His voice lowered, just so only she could hear this. “I put myself on the line here, to keep you safe. God knows what those bastards chasing ya could have done.”
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The much smaller woman in scale had walked up to him, her height reaching to be as tall as where his chin was. Mister Morgan, the name she got from the older woman Mrs. Grimshaw when she had woken up; he looked much different in the daylight as a opposed to the setting of a dark and stormy night.
At his question, Maeve couldn't help the disgruntled expression that had appeared on her face, "No." She had answered. There was no way she would ever feel any better from this, at least this was what the young lady thought at the time.
Brushing off the question, Maeve had taken in a subtle breath while trying to hold eye contact with him, "Mister Morgan, I did not have the chance to say this sooner, but I hope you understand the reasoning."
She looked him in his eyes and mustered all the gratitude in her words, "Thank you for doing what you did. Saving me. I want you to know that I am in your debt. Whatever you need to be done don't hesitate to ask."
Maeve then offered, "Your laundry? I'll take care of it. Horse needs tendin' to? My pa is--was a stable man. I'll do it. I'd offer to help cook, but you have a man for that so I'll just bring you food. If you need me to send off a letter or fetch mail," Maeve pointed to herself.
"I'll do it all. Please, let me do something anything to repay you and to keep my mind distracted," Her voice begged at the end there.
Lucky | Closed RP
@mistermxrgan
It had been three days since her arrival at camp, three days since she had been rescued, three days since she witnessed her parents die. Maeve replayed that night I’m her head, hearing the screams that were made to the final breaths of her mother and father.
While her father owed a lot of money to the wrong kind of people their collectors, The Bollard Twins Gang, went too far and decided to put the Milley’s through hell before killing them, almost all of them.
The man had grabbed Maeve’s chin with his filthy hand and made her look at her mother’s dead body, “It didn’t need to be this way. Your daddy just needed to cooperate, but now he pissed me off. Boys!”
The gunshot still rung in her ear. Maeve was sitting by the fire staring at the flames. She was lucky enough to break away from the Bollards once half of them left, lesser numbers gave her better odds. Grabbing one of their guns to shoot at the man that fired a bullet in her father’s stomach.
When running out into the rain, Maeve had found the road leading back to town with the other two gangsters on her trail. And that’s when he came. Riding in on his horse, that’s when Arthur had rescued her by shooting those men.
The rest was a blur but from what she was told, Maeve fainted and Arthur brought her back here to this camp. Sure she was lucky, but Maeve certainly did feel it with what’s she lost.
Maeve’s attention was pulled from the flames when she heard Arthur close by. It took her two days to speak but now was the time to do so. She stood up to go over to him, “Mister Morgan?”
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Lucky | Closed RP
@mistermxrgan
It had been three days since her arrival at camp, three days since she had been rescued, three days since she witnessed her parents die. Maeve replayed that night I'm her head, hearing the screams that were made to the final breaths of her mother and father.
While her father owed a lot of money to the wrong kind of people their collectors, The Bollard Twins Gang, went too far and decided to put the Milley's through hell before killing them, almost all of them.
The man had grabbed Maeve's chin with his filthy hand and made her look at her mother's dead body, "It didn't need to be this way. Your daddy just needed to cooperate, but now he pissed me off. Boys!"
The gunshot still rung in her ear. Maeve was sitting by the fire staring at the flames. She was lucky enough to break away from the Bollards once half of them left, lesser numbers gave her better odds. Grabbing one of their guns to shoot at the man that fired a bullet in her father's stomach.
When running out into the rain, Maeve had found the road leading back to town with the other two gangsters on her trail. And that's when he came. Riding in on his horse, that's when Arthur had rescued her by shooting those men.
The rest was a blur but from what she was told, Maeve fainted and Arthur brought her back here to this camp. Sure she was lucky, but Maeve certainly did feel it with what's she lost.
Maeve's attention was pulled from the flames when she heard Arthur close by. It took her two days to speak but now was the time to do so. She stood up to go over to him, "Mister Morgan?"
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