planetmavy

[planetmavy]

THIS>>>

Recently learned that the color of the vest and tie Arthur wears during the Saint Denis ferry gambling mission changes depending on if you have high or low honor (blue for high and red for low) so now i am obsessed with the idea that the prominence of the colors red and blue on certain gang member’s outfit also reflects their honor level.

Whittemore variants versus Arthur’s default outfit, which doesn’t have a scrap of red on it, however no matter what his blue shirt is always fucking dirty and stained. And remember the gang criticizes you if you have blood all over you.

Hosea wears the blue vest (sometimes brown) but he generally has his red neckerchief on, but he also owns a red and black scarf. Mostly good but a little bit of bad.

Red is prominently featured on Micah. His entire shirt is red and he’s usually wearing his jacket like he’s disguising his nature. Even the the grips on his guns have red. And when you rescue him from Strawberry he does not have his coat.

Dutch is the most interesting to me. He has the checkered red scarf which he rarely wears and the red pocket square over his heart. Only the back of his vest is red, like he’s in denial about it, or that it’s only possible to see who he is when he isn’t facing you and putting on a show. Meanwhile on guarma his vest is suddenly reversed!

EDIT: addition

When Hosea is killed he is wearing a completely different outfit with a blue vest and absolutely no red, and both Milton and Dutch are covered in red!

[planetmavy]

One shot announcement!!

HELLO TO MY CUTIES !!

I'm having a bit of a writing block on my main John Marston x narrator work at the moment but do not fret! I'm going to try and make a short one shot story with Arthur and the reader... it will probably be more of a tenderhearted story than something SPICY I guess you could say. If you guys want to see more of this i'd be happy to oblige. I was already considering a one shot with Charles per request of one of my mutuals. So feel free to let me know! It'll be posted either today or tomorrow and I'll be sure to post the Wattpad link whenever I get around to it. But once again please send me story request! They can be multi-chapter or even a one shot I don't have a preference. Anyways... hopefully y'all stick around for the link drop :D

[planetmavy]

Wattpad Story finally posted !!

Hey my cuties!! I finally finished the first chapter (ngl I kinda forgot about it) but yes APPLAUD ME!! :)

The link will be somewhere on here hahaha but yes I hope you all enjoy it and read the second chapter whenever that does come out... y'all will LOVE this I promise and there are so many interesting plot points im excited to write !!

Please bare with me as I am not a pro writer and I am human, mistakes happen and I'll try to grow as I write this story. Anyways I've yapped enough, heres the link to the Wattpad:

LINK

[planetmavy]

Sobbing, screaming, and crying in a corner... why Tumblr, why must you hurt me in this way...

Trying to see how vids work on tumblr! :D

[planetmavy]

Was working on chapter one of my work in progress Wattpad story, I'll paste it here for now but PLEASE give feed back and lmk what kind of plot points y'all would be interested in seeing.. I've already got a lot of ideas. Also I am currently accepting commissions for free because I need inspo, so stories, one shots, or whatever y'all want as long as it's rdr related <3

Anyways back to business, it'll be here below so please please share your thoughts :)

(Clara Morgan is our protagonist, she's Arthur's sister and I know y'all love Abigail but she basically doesn't exist in this timeline, that's the only way I could think of to make a romance between John and our narrator work. Please don't kill me please. More details will be on the Wattpad once I write a desc and post this chapter :D)

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"You have got to be kidding me..."

I brought my hands to my face, my palms covering every inch of it in a desperate attempt to escape this. There was no way this could be happening. Shit. I massage my temples to gain some clarity but find none.

My eyelids shut briefly before I found the words to speak.

"Let me get this right, yeah? You want me to rob a stagecoach... WITH THE BIGGEST MORON IN CAMP???"

I gesture toward John Marston, who is sitting just outside his tent a few feet away. He's the biggest idiot I've known since Dutch took my brother, Arthur, and me in as children. I couldn't stand John, and Dutch knew that fully well. Despite that, he thinks it's a good idea to put us on a mission together... ALONE??? Yeah right, that's almost as laughable as the time Sean got a scorpion stuck in his pants. I pace a few steps in front of Dutch's tent and shake my head dumbfounded.

"There's no way," I rest my hand on my forehead and move my head back and forth defiantly, "that you think this is a GOOD idea."

I looked at Dutch as if he were crazy, and in my mind he was just that.

I glance at John and point, "If you think for a second that I'm going anywhere with that thing, you're wrong, incredibly wrong, DEAD WRONG."

John rolls his eyes and continues to pack his things into his satchel. He hates me just as much, rest assured, but he's just ready to get this over with.

"You act like you have much of a choice, Clara."

I roll my eyes and scoff, then look at Dutch with a pleading look, "Pleaseee say I have a choice in this..."

Dutch sighs, folding his arms as he looks between John and me. He had hoped this would be easy, but he knew how stubborn we can be and had low expectations. "Now listen here, you two: nobody else is available to do the job; we need to get it done, and you two are going to do it. Whether you like it or not. So get going and get along. Understood?"

I look at Dutch with a shocked glint in my eye. He couldn't be serious... It's like he WANTS us to kill each other! "Dutch I-"

Before I could say another word, John appeared behind me and cut me off, "Stop whining so much; you're like a goddamn child. Come on. We're wasting daylight. Let's get this over and done with so I don't have to deal with you anymore."

"Ugh, fine, get saddled up, but I ain't waiting all day, pretty boy."

John headed to get saddled up, grabbing his rifle and slinging it over his shoulder. He was never a fan of my little attitude; he despised it. Not to mention the fact he actually had to spend the day alone with you, he was less than excited.

I whip around and give Dutch a deathly angry glare before storming off to my tent to grab supplies and other things I may need. I look around and notice with every stride that everyone at camp has heard what happened... stupid, stupid, stupid... I think to myself, unsure if I'm referring to John or my own idiotic actions. I make it to my tent and gather all that'll fit in my satchel: ammunition, tonics, and anything else that may come in handy. I almost finish cramming objects harshly into my bag before a sturdy hand grazes my shoulder.

At the touch, I flick my head to the side and instinctively pound words out of my lips, "What do you want—"

Charles, who was crouching down to my height, ax in hand, stood up, rationally startled. His cocoa skin is a soothing sight to my eyes. Now that I realize what I had done, guilt with a slight embarrassed undertone begins to set in. I quickly grab my revolver out of a drawer and shove it into my holster. The words I spouted began to ring in my head, and I regretted them immediately. I stand up and turn to apologize to the kind hunter.

"Sorry, Charles, I thought you were someone else..." I look at him but quickly divert my eyes; I knew he, of all people, didn't deserve to be shouted at.

Luckily for me, Charles was understanding and knew I didn't mean it and that my apology wasn't empty. "Dutch sent you out on a mission with Marston again, didn't he?" He set his ax down and settled into conversation.

I let out a nervous laugh and rubbed the back of my neck. "That obvious, huh? I was pretty loud, so I wouldn't be surprised if everyone had caught wind of it now. I knew my outbursts could be heard from miles away; that's another habit I'll have to add to the "Clara needs to work on herself" list.

Charles chuckled, tilting his head to the side a little. "You're going to have to learn to play nice one of these days. John's not the worst person to have to deal with, you know."

"I know, I know, I've just never been a fan, even after all these years. Even when we were children, he has always annoyed me." I glare at John with an annoyed look from across camp. "He's unbearable, and I can't stand it." I look again and soften my gaze a bit; I can't hold it ALL against him. Whenever I talk to him, I sometimes sense his childlike self. As much as I "hate" him, I don't want to hurt that child inside.

Charles shot me a knowing look. He knew the look on my face said more than my words. He looked over at John just a few tents away from us. He wasn't blind, and he knew I didn't mean that as much as I thought I did.

I shake my head, halting overthinking, and I divert my eyes away from the moron. I shouldered my satchel, an old drawer I had left open catching my eye. Inside, the old shattered locket I kept there gleamed in the dim sunlight that seeped through the tent, the light layer of dust now becoming visible. I admire it briefly before gently closing the drawer.

Charles knew me well, and he knew nothing ever caught my attention for very long. He could say the same for John, considering how long I was staring, but he also knew whatever was in that drawer had to be something important to me. He almost began to ask, but he was interrupted by a shouting voice a few tents away.

"Hurry up, slowpoke, let's get going!" It was John, acting as impatient as ever.

"Hush up, I'll only be a minute more, Wolf Boy." I roll my eyes and turn to Charles, giving him a shrug and a quick hug goodbye, hoping it would protect me or at least delay the inevitable trip ahead of me.

Charles smiled, returned my hug, and patted my shoulder. Meanwhile, John was getting rather... impatient... He just wanted to get this over and done with before he had to deal with any more of my crude insults. He stomped over to my tent, shaking the ground with every grueling step.

"Are you done yet, Clara?" He had a rather annoyed tone and stood facing us like we'd been hugging for hours, "Or do you want to stop and make daisy chains on the way?"

I let go of Charles and slowly turn to John with a deadpan expression, "Maybe I do; if it makes you angry, then most definitely." I walk over to the man who thinks he needs to demand every little thing I do and slap him on the shoulder with an aggressive look.

"Goddamn it! What the fuck!?" He looks at me like a bull seeing red, his body tensing as he brings his hand to his shoulder in an attempt to ease the pain.

"Let's just go already, gosh." I began to storm off with John by my side; we hadn't even left camp yet, but I already fantasized about killing him. I turn back to Charles and roll my eyes playfully, and I wave him farewell.

He smiled and waved back, swiftly grabbing his ax to resume the work he was doing around camp. I turn back, and we finally make it to our horses without any casualties... surprisingly. I pat Brennus, my trusty steed, and load what I need to before mounting him. John saddled up as well on Old Boy. He quickly adjusted his satchel to make sure he had all the necessary equipment.

"You ready? Let's get this over and done with, hm?"

I take a deep breath. "Ugh, anything to get away from you." I signal my horse down a path out of camp, and we ride off to find the supposed stagecoach we were targeting.

John let out a snort as I said that, rolling his eyes. He knew I was just doing that to annoy him. Typical of me, of course. He rode up beside me, making sure to be on the high ground just in case I tried to hit him again.

"Oh trust me, the feeling's mutual."

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