#I mean he can't even fire with a gun???? And I suppose riffles are even harder to handle????

[grave-z-boy]

arthur morgan x male reader where reader joins the gang and finds comfort in arthur and at one point gets hurt away from camp and arthur finds them and helps them they camp out at night since it was too dark to go back to camp, and reader and arthur drink and reader drunkenly confessed and there’s some kissing? sorry this is long lmfao. i like ur writing!!

Arthur Morgan x male!reader

Summary: in the months since you've joined Dutch’s gang, you befriended Arthur Morgan, when you can't get ahold on your feelings you start avoiding the man like the plague .

Word count: 2,609

Warning: hunting, guns, mentions of skinning a dear, reader sees a dead dear, reader gets shot, alcohol, reader (and Arthur) get drunk, bugs, period typical (internalized) homophobia, Arthur thinks reader is dying, hozier reference

Masterlist

“Mr. Morgan.” You muttered with a tip of your hat.

Arthur has strode up next to you on his horse, finally back from his days long expedition, just when you were getting ready to leave on yours.

You’d joined the gang not too many months back. You’re parents had been outlaws way back when, and friends of Dutch- they were able to get out of that business early on, settle down, only to be pulled back in while doing a little favor for Dutch and the boys. They lost their lives doing the “little favor”. Years later you still try not to think too hard on it.

Being outlaws, the others weren’t all too welcoming to a new, strange man joining the gang, even if Dutch had vouched for you. You didn’t mind, they would have their own opinions of you until they rolled over and died and there wasn’t much you could do about it. You did, somehow, manage to befriend Arthur. Well, “befriend” might be a bit strong, but he was friendly enough with you. Friendly enough for you to- without meaning to- gain a sort of attraction to the man.

You figured you could just shove it down as far as you could, appreciate the little kindness the man did you, and make it enough. It wasn’t, you wanted more from him and you weren’t supposed to. The comfort you felt around the man dried up like an old well and the relationship you were building had come to a standstill. Your interactions have gone from friendly stories around a fire and taking on the town together, to short, stiff nods as you left- or as he left. You made it a point to leave whenever he came back from one of his trips- nearly jumping to your feet and running to your horse when you heard him coming.

“Where ya headed?” He asked, not looking at you, but instead down at the mane of his horse.

“Hunting…”

He hummed, “Want me to come along?”

Yes.

“No, I'll be alright, ‘m only gonna be out there for a couple of hours, and you just got back, you should get some rest.”

With a short sigh, Arthur dismounted his horse. Shooting you one last glance before saying, “Be careful out there, Y/n.”

“Will do, Arthur.”

—————

Your lungs burned as you rested against a thick tree, hunting rifle in hand, you free had clutched the leaking wound on your side. It was just a graze, you could tell without even looking at it, a grave that only oozed blood due to the fact that you took off running the second it happened.

You were maybe 5 feet away from a deer, so close you could grab the damn thing and slit its throat if you wanted to. But you didn’t, not yet, you just wanted to look at it for now. It had been shot before, a shot you were shocked it survived, straight through its stomach, blood dried around the creature's wound. The deer walked with a limp, and let out a pained noise every time it moved. Big, pitch-black eyes stared into yours, and all thoughts of killing the animal left your mind.

Then you heard a gun fire. The deer ran off, and you’d been knocked to the ground. The bullet gets maybe an inch into your skin, and exits a second later. Grabbing your riffle you took off as fast as you could.

Which leads you to where you are now, back at the little camp you’d made for yourself. The hunter- as godawful of a shot he was, was long gone, you watched him leave, the hide of the dear tossed over his horse's back. You wanted to leave, head back to camp and get patched up, and pretend like tonight hadn’t happened, like everything was normal and fine. You pushed yourself up on the tree, the uneven bark chipping and leaving little wood fragments on your hand, using the rapidly drying blood as an adhesive. your side throbbed painfully, the blood leaving a mark on the light colored tree.

With a groan you turned towards your horse, only for her to drop to the ground, letting out a neigh, which you decided was her way of telling you that she wasn't going to let you ride her covered in blood- or that she was tired.

“You ass.” You muttered.

She seemingly sunk deeper into herself, getting comfortable.

Dropping back down to the floor and resting your head against the tree with a groan.

It took you longer than ever to collect dry wood for a fire. Bending down felt like hell and you considered for a moment just letting the elements take you. You pulled yourself together eventually, starting a fire, eating some dried meat, using your bag as a pillow you tried to get some sleep. You wouldn’t usually leave a wound unattended but you had no supplies, no alcohol, no clean water, and no bandages. You figured you'd deal with the consequences of your frantic packing later. For now, you just wanted to rest.

Your fire had died down, just barely lit. But the cold wasn't what woke you. The familiar sound of a horse galloping against the dirt, growing closer by the second, caused you to jump out of your sleep. You groaned, pushing yourself up in an attempt to move out of the way, the throbbing in your side had turned to a seating pain, and you hissed as you tried to drag yourself away, finding yourself back against the same tree as before.

The tiny clearing quickly became overwhelming as another rider approached. You could hardly see them it was so dark, your fire from before now a pile of smoke. You heard them drop off their horse, footsteps, slow and even, making their way toward you. You tried to use the tree as leverage, trying to push yourself up, be at least a little less pathetic. Your breathing was pained and labored, and with little regard- for yourself, you stood. The man finally stepped close enough for you to make out his features in the dark, standing less than 4 feet in front of you was Arthur.

“Y/n..” he breathed out.

Relief flooded your body as Arthur looked over you, his hands firmly set on your shoulders.

“Arthur, what are you doing out here?” you asked, more awake now, but still pained.

“Saving your ass, apparently.”

“‘M fine.”

You leaned back against the tree, the pain from your wound becoming far too noticeable for your liking. You pressed your hand to it without thinking, blood once again spewing from the wound.

“You’re hurt?”

“It’s nothing..”

He grabbed your hand, snatching it away from your wound, covered in blood and dirt, he looked at it, then looked back up at you. The blood soaking through your clothes and making them stick to your skin.

“I got shot..” you muttered, snatching your and away.

Arthur gave you a look, a look that had a few strong words associated with it, but he saved them for later. Lifting your shirt, glaring up at you, seeing just how unattended the wound was.

“So you were just gonna stay out here and bleed to death?”

“It’s not that bad..”

“Could’ve been-“

“But it isn’t-“

“I told you to be careful-“

“I didn’t get shot on purpose-“

“You didn’t come back to camp on purpose-“

“My damn horse wouldn’t-“

“Well you should’ve woke it’s ass up-“

A particularly painful throb ended your argument with Arthur, clutching your side, you pushing him away with your free hand. You kneeled down, deciding to collect more wood to rebuild the fire and show Arthur that you were fine. As you gathered sticks in your hand you heard Arthur kneel beside you, you didn't look at him, your hands shook but you still tried to gather the sticks in front of you. Your irritation grew immensely, only to be snuffed out when you felt one of Arthurs's hands cover yours.

“Let me handle this..”

You wanted to argue, but you didn’t, your hands were shaking and the wound was only becoming more irritated. Resisting the urge to throw the sticks down and stomp off like a child, you let him take them from your hands, then, with one hand on your chest, he guided you down.

You glared up at him, but he only looked at you with worry. He held your eyes in his for a second before going to check the wound. Moving your coat and lifting your bloodied shirt, he let out a long sigh, glaring up at you for a moment, then back down at the wound.

You so desperately wanted to be mad at him, but as his finger caressed the tender skin around your wound, you couldn’t keep up the act. Your body relaxed, as did your mind.

“Wait here..” he said, you didn’t argue.

Laid on your back, staring up at the trees, and the beautiful clear sky, you listened to Arthur shuffle around the little camp. A few minutes later, a fire was started, and even from here, you could feel its warmth.

He came back to you with his hands full of supplies, bandages, a cloth, and a flask. You could finally see him fully, the warm light of the fire casting a dim light on the side of his face.

“Let me look at ya’” he said quietly.

After a moment of examining you under the light, he reached for the flask.

“This is gonna sting..”

He was right, it did, you choked on a breath as he poured a generous amount of alcohol onto the open wound. Your hand reached for his coat sleeve, gripping it tightly as he dried the wound with the cloth. You were patched up a couple of seconds later, the bandage pulled tight around your abdomen.

Arthur helped you sit up, your wound, cleaned and pampered, stung considerably less. Then, with one of Arthur’s hands on your back, and the other resting on your unwounded side, you felt warm. Your face flushed and in your mind, you blamed it on the fire. You stayed like that for a moment, letting him touch you no matter how little and amicable they might have been. The moment didn’t last, he moved away, reaching for the flask from before and unscrewing the cap. He offered it to you first, and you shook your head no. He didn't say anything, just taking a quick drink and setting it on the ground between the two of you.

You didn't mean to, but you couldn't help but think of how pretty he was in the firelight. So peaceful, relieved- you looked away, glaring into the fire. You reached down for the flask, took a quick drink then set it back down, just as he had.

Minutes passed, you took turns drinking. He drank when he wanted to, you drank when your thoughts got away from you. Every time you thought about it just being you and him out here, about how nobody ever had to know, how you could just leave and it could just be you and him, forever. About his laugh, his smile, the little sigh he let out every time he took a drink- you drank again, and again, and again. Until finally Arthur snatched the flask from you.

“That's enough..”

You groaned, “Not really.”

You could feel the heat radiating off your body, your head was spinning, and no matter how hard you tried, your train of thought never strayed from Arthur.

Silence passed between the two of you, the sounds of bugs clicking and other little creatures crawling played dully in your ears. Tapping your foot in the dirt, you watched the ants crawl, watching the majority of them line up, only for two to break off, form their own line, a line of two. Marching around. You let out a little laugh.

Then, suddenly.

“Are you dying?”

You turned to Arthur, face scrunched in confusion.

“… What?”

“You’re dying..” he mumbled.

“I ain’t dying, Morgan.”

He sighed, dropping himself down into the dirt.

“Then what’s wrong with ya’?”

You laughed, “I got shot.”

“No, no, no- before that, whenever I’m at camp you-you run off like I’ve got the damn plague! You’re never there anymore, at least not when I’m around. I know you’re not getting on with the rest of the gang, but I don’t understand why you’re running from me.”

Flopping down in the dirt next to him, you sighed.

“I’m not dying, Arthur, I swear..”

His voice was slurred, and he fumbled as he tried to screw the cap back on his flask.

“Then I’m sorry, for whatever I did that hurt you- I didn’t mean to I swear I just-“

“You didn’t do anything..” you turned over to your uninjured side, “..something ain’t right with me. I think things I'm not supposed to and feel things I shouldn't, and it's…harder to stop when I'm around you.”

You didn't meet his eyes, focusing squarely on the ground even though it made your head spin.

“Y/n..” he said, quietly.

You pushed yourself up faster than you should have, regret forming in your chest, pulling at your heart.

“Forget it…”

“Wait.” he sat up, vertigo claiming him for a short second before he continued. “Wait, please.”

He grabbed ahold of your wrist as you stood unsteady on your own feet, lifting himself off the ground, just as wobbly as you are.

When he asked you to wait, you did, as he searched for the right words, your mind raced thinking of what they could possibly be. And when he said nothing, just stared at you with those sad blue eyes, the alcohol flowing through your blood took over.

“I love you, Arthur, and I'm trying not to. I really am, but you just-” your rant, however guilt ride it was, was cut short.

Grabbing you tight and pulling you so close that you could feel his breath on you. Then, he kissed you, slow and gentle. Your eyes fluttered shut, you could feel his hands move from your shoulders to the small of your back, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer. You didn't pull away, not until Arthur did, he stared at you, his eyes searching your face for a long moment, then, when you finally let a smile find its way onto your face, he kissed you again.

The kiss, even though it was uncoordinated and desperate, was everything you wanted. So much guilty, and shame, just for this. Your grip on the back of his coat tightened, he pulled you closer.

You would have stayed like that forever if a sudden wave of vertigo hadn't nearly made your knees buckle, your already unsteady stance faltered, you stumbled back, then forward into Arthur. And he laughed, watching you try and hold your fleeting balance, entirely unhelpful.

“Shut up, Arthur-” you laughed, lightheaded and in pain.

But he kept laughing. Holding onto him by the collar of his jacket you pulled him in for another kiss, he stopped laughing, he smiled though, like he was the happiest man in the world, so you kissed him again, and you kept on kissing him until it was true.

The night ended with you in a drunk heap with Arthur, arms, and legs intertwined, giggling and babbling as you drifted off to sleep.

The forest didn’t seem too harsh that night, despite the bug and the dirt, and the distant howling of wolves.

[just-like-playing-tag]

Me???? Still not over that Apollo Ray AU in 2021?????? It's more likely than you think.

I jumped into the water and now I need to keep swimming

If you're new to the AU, you can check out this post where it's explained where the name comes from and this other post on what Apollo Ray differs from Minerva Norman.

Tonight, I'd like to expand the plotline that Apollo Ray would choose to imprison Emma and Norman to prevent them from getting in his way to demons' eradication. I know y'all might cringe at this but you have to understand, he's REALLY convinced it's for their best.

This is how I can imagine things to go: Ray kinda tricks them and traps them somewhere inside of the Paradise Hideout. Not really a prison, he'd probably just lock them in a room and be like “you just got back from a long, dangerous journey, why don't you take some rest? In the meantime, I've got some stuff to do at, let's say, the Royal Capital :)”

Sounds familiar?

Like mother like son

Very relevant detail is that the room MUST be without locks. Make it an electronic key or a biometric iris recognition lock or whatever. Ray knows Norman well enough and he's not falling to the magical hairpin trick lmao.

Now, I like to think Gilda would take sides with Ray. I've always thought about Ray and Gilda having a lot in common (often seeing the glass half empty, loving Emma unconditionally; furthermore, they were the only ones who agreed that escaping from Grace Field with everyone was unequivocally impossible). At some point, paralleling how Norman asked to talk with Gilda and Don, Ray asks for Gilda only to come into his study. They have a long talk, during which he persuades her to join him. On Ray's end, he needs somebody he trusts to stay in the Hideout while him and his squad go to their fun trip to the Royal Capital, to keep an eye on Emma and Norman and make sure they won't escape or try and go to the Seven Walls. Now, Gilda probably wouldn't look like his first choice, for she is endlessly loyal to Emma; however, Ray plans of making that very factor, her love and dedication for her friend, his trump card. By talking to Gilda and calmly describing their situation, he makes her understand how hopeless is the mission Emma is so desperate to fulfill; that no one ever came back from the Seven Walls, and they're most likely to die there. Moreover, Ray persuades Gilda to believe that his plan of demon eradication is without doubts the most certain route, that will surely lead to the safest future for her friends - even though they can't understand it yet. However, their safeness and happiness is above anything else, even their own temporary freedom- isn't it? They will understand, once everything is over, that him and Gilda were only acting for their best.

Although initially hesitant, as never in her life she had gone against Emma, Gilda ends up firmly accepting, for she's determined to do anything to save Emma's (and Norman's) life- including betraying her.

I don't think it shouldn't be too surprising to have Gilda accept Ray's plottings; already in the manga, she's shown as being maybe the most condescending to Norman's plan, since she believed it was the less dangerous route to secure Emma's safety- and, to her eyes, consequential happiness.

In this AU, Ray's using the very feelings of affection that build Gilda's loyalty to Emma to bring her to his side; he's persuading her that the mission Emma and Norman are trying to carry out is a suicidal one, and that if they let them go they will lose them forever- which is something he knows Gilda would do anything to not let happen.

I know it may seem like he's manipulating her to get what he wants, but I want to underline I don't think that'd be the case: by saying he's worried Emma and Norman are going to lose their lives going after the Seven Walls, he's putting genuine sentiments on the line, and he's as determined to prevent it from happening as Gilda is. In comparison, Norman has been way more dishonest when he spoke to Gilda and Don- as Gilda would have later learnt, he was never intentioned to spare Musica (thus having plainly lied to them).

On the contrary, Ray's intentions of simply wanting to protect Emma and Norman were sincere, and he was way more honest with Gilda with his plan, fully entrusting her with it.

On the other side, Don would obviously take sides Emma, which would eventually lead to a very cool conflict between Gilda and Don?? I'm certain Don would support Emma because he grew up to be very similar to her. Brings back to my mind this old old post I once made, which considers the events of chapters 138 and 139: Don shares Emma's point of view on many matters, so I'm confident he would be ready to support her. When you think about it, he was the fastest to take sides with her in canon too, probably second to Ray only; and when Ray's choice was likely driven by his undying loyalty to Emma, chances are that Don was supporting Emma not only because he believed in her, but also because he was the first one to truly believe in her ideals as well, the first to believe they would have really been able to find a solution that would have brought happiness for everyone.

Now Don openly supporting Emma would inevitably lead to him and Gilda clashing which I find being the absolute COOLEST thing. I mean I love them, and I love how they love each other; still the thought of them being compelled by the circumstances to collide intrigues me so much!!!! I think they'd have this extremely angsty confrontation that will eventually end with Don convincing Gilda that trusting Emma has took them so far, and that the best thing to do is give up and help him to free Emma and Norman (maybe Ray had entrusted her with the keys / password to open the room Emma and Norman were locked in?? Dunnot)

Besides, I think it would make a lot of sense taking the whole tpn plotline?? It would end up paralleling Gilda and Don's chapters in Grace Field in so many different ways. First of all, I have to say it would be very nice to have a new spotlight on Gilda: her role in the first arc was relevant indeed, with her and Don being the key to the success of the escape; however, she didn't really got to have enough space for character development. The moment when the trio revealed them the truth was more about Don, while Gilda had never doubted of their words in the first place; moreover, the space she had as a possible spy was mostly used to deceive the attention from the true spy, and the revelation that she was never intentioned to betray them was more of character development for Emma, who consolidated her will to trust and protect her family, than a growth of Gilda herself.

But now, for Gilda to take sides against her dear Emma, the person she's more loyal and devoted to, what a great potential for character development that has!!!!!!! I can imagine her, once she finally accepts to help Emma, to echo the words Emma once told her at Grace Field: “I'm sorry- to protect you, I was prepared to be hated by you; yet, I wasn't ready to believe in you!”

To sum up: the Apollo Ray AU is still my jam and Gilda and Don deserve way more space than what they were given in the manga. Also stan Gilda.