#RDRRarepairWeek

[daily-escuella]

✨Rare pair week!✨ Today's prompt was "First Snow" imo Tilly and Javier shouldn't be rare to see, they're adorable together! I love seeing them subtly flirt with each other in camp 🥰🥺❤️

(This week is extremely busy for me, so if I do more rare pair prompts, they will not be released on time, but I had a lot of fun with this one!)

[purplecatdad]

Rarepair Week “Darkness”

Part of the RDR Events Rarepair Week 

Prompt: Darkness

Bill/Kieran | Teens an Up | Canon-Divergence

Content Warning for:  Child Abuse (mentioned), Internalised Homophobia, Trauma, Alcoholism, Depression, Tortue

Bill Williamson had never been a brave man. 

In fact he felt like a coward most of the time. Back when his daddy had beaten him up and he never fought back. Back when he applied to the army, simply because he was afraid that he’d end up with nothing in his life. Back when he punched and almost killed the guy who had kissed him just so people wouldn’t know he was a queer. Or when he thought that his life would end as Dutch van der Linde laughed at him because he had tried to steal from him. 

For a long while, Dutch had made Bill feel like he wasn’t all that much of a coward. He had given him purpose, a family, people to take care of. He knew that most of them, especially the other boys, would call him lazy. Often enough they had called him that right into his face and he knew that they were right. But sometimes he’d just lie awake at night, haunted by the things he did and those that had been done to him. They paralysed him and robbed him of his sleep and with the rising sun came the overwhelming sadness. Sadness that made it unable for him to do anything but to drink, like his daddy used to. To drown the memories and the pain in liquor. And every time he felt his consciousness slipping thanks to the Whiskey he was afraid again. That he’d end up like him. Beating folk who didn’t deserve it, children and women. And that was someone he never wanted to be. 

He had run with Dutch and his boys for 6 years. They had gone through both good and bad times but it had rarely been as bad as after Blackwater. They’ve lost folk and money and had been holed up in the cold for far too long. And it had all been the O’Driscoll’s fault. They’ve managed to catch one of his boys, a man named Kieran and while Bill hated his guts for being part of the rival gang he also stirred something else in him … something that made him afraid again. 

Nobody in camp knew that he preferred the company of men over women. At least not as far as Bill knew. During the years he had visited some working boys now and then. To celebrate after a good job or to let off some steam after a job gone wrong - but he had always made sure to keep it to himself. Once or twice he’d almost been caught but he had always managed to make it look that he was just another man fucking some female prostitute. 

But then, Arthur had dragged one of those damn O’Driscolls with them. A scrawny man named Kieran Duffy. Someone who belonged to the enemy. Kieran changed the game. Bill couldn’t help watching him. He was cute, even if a little jumpy at times. The horses loved him, even the Count let him close. And even if he was afraid and even if they had hurt and threatend him, he still pulled his weight and even saved Arthur’s life when there was no need to do so. 

Often, Bill would imagine what he’d do with him if he had him for himself, all on his own. Stripping him down, kissing every inch of his body, holding him close. Of course he couldn’t tell him. Of course he was afraid of something slipping. So he made sure that Kieran was afraid as well. With gelding tongs and fists and snarling at him whenever he got too close. But instead of feeling better, securer about it he just felt like shit. Because he still kept watching Kieran … and couldn’t help but notice what a good man the O’Driscoll actually was. Kind, honest, soft and gentle. Nothing like the other men in camp. Nothing like the boys he had paid before. 

His heart always started to flutter when he approached Kieran to tell him to clean up his tack or groom Brown Jack for him. Kieran always got nervous and jumpy around him and Bill couldn’t blame him for it. It was what he had tried to achieve - but had it really been what he had wanted? He had cursed himself a lot during the first few weeks. Hating himself for ruining a potential relationship, even if it was just friendship, before it had even started. 

Once they had moved to Clemens point, Bill had made a decision. He would no longer be a coward. He would try to approach him. Maybe he could show Kieran that he wasn’t always just a brute. He could be a drinking buddy. Or a friend. 

It had taken many approaches and even more beers until Kieran had finally accepted Bill‘s invitation to drink with him. Both of them eased into the conversation with the help of the alcohol, feeling more confident because of the drinks they finally managed to get to know each other. Bill always doubted himself come next morning. Wondering if it was really the right thing to do. What if he accidentally said too much? Revealed himself to Kieran only to be pushed away again? But he always came back because he enjoyed Kieran‘s company too much

Sometimes he went away just to beat some people up, to get rid of the restlessness. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to do. It didn’t fit to the “beat people who need beating” mantra of Dutch and his gang. But still he couldn’t help it. Beating them black and blue made him feel in control. He knew how to do it, he was confident when he did it. There was no doubt there, only the knowledge and assurance that he was capable of something. 

One night they had actually met outside of camp, in the Rhodes saloon. Bill had wanted to celebrate another good score with some proper food and some higher brand whiskey and had told Kieran to come along. They had eaten and drunk and enjoyed each other‘s company … and when Kieran had excused himself to pee outside, Bill had followed him. 

Thanks to the Whiskey and the good mood, Bill hadn‘t been afraid anymore. He had been brave. He had taken Kieran‘s face into his hands and kissed him, pressed against the back wall of the saloon. And to his surprise, Kieran had kissed him back. They had rented a room that night to spend it together. Hasty, deep kisses, bodies intertwined. It had left Bill speechless and tired and satisfied in a way he had never felt. 

The next morning he woke up alone. The way back to camp a walk of shame. Fear and anxiety creeping up about what to expect in camp. Had Kieran told them all about Bill? About his desires, about what he had done with him? What if he had ruined whatever they had by just acting up on his desires? If Kieran never wanted to get that far?

But when he reached the camp grounds he realized that there was no need to worry. Kieran greeted him like nothing happened as he was cleaning up after the horses and took Brown Jack from him to be unsaddled and groomed. Javier congratulated him on the „successful night with the ladies of Rhodes'' and after a few more interactions with the people in camp, Bill had realized that Kieran had simply told them that they had been busy with some working girls during the night. A story that apparently all of them believed to be true without a doubt. 

Many nights like that followed, with less and less alcohol involved. They never talked about it, never really spoke about what happened during those nights. Bill woke up alone each day. But he understood - he also didn‘t want to risk anybody finding out. It was good, what they had and someone finding out about them would most likely ruin whatever it was that they had. 

More shit went down in Rhodes, more than he could comprehend and they found each other down south at a place called Shady Belle. Bill had never liked the swamps. The air was too humid and hot for him to breathe and always made him a sweaty mess. But Kieran started sleeping closer to him at night in the new camp and he was happier about that than he had expected to be.

One night he took him out to Saint Denis. He hated the big city but it offered them some anonymity that made him feel safer than in Rhodes. They had some drinks, some delicious food and rented another room for the night. Kieran had bought them some Whiskey again and drunk it until he was swaying on his feet before he had pulled Bill to bed with him. He had kissed Bill a lot that night, clinging to him and pulling him closer. When they were done, he had cuddled up into his arms instead of turning away, whispering a soft „I love you, Bill“ that kept Bill awake for a few more hours, repeating the words in his mind, thinking about what it meant for him. What it meant for them. 

Eventually he fell asleep, cuddled up to Kieran who was snoring away peacefully next to him. Bill could pretend that this was their life. That this was how he spent every night, next to his special someone who would whisper sweet words into his ears and keep him warm at night. 

But when the next morning came, reality hit him again. Kieran had left the bed in the morning once again and left him alone. It was okay, of course and what Bill had halfway expected anyway. But when he came back to camp, Kieran wasn‘t there to greet him and to take Brown Jack from him. He wasn‘t at the scouting fire, taking care of the saddles or with the girls talking about books. In fact, he was nowhere to be seen. A part of Bill, the anxious, cowardly beast, told him that Kieran had had enough. That he had left the gang, had left him behind because he didn‘t want to be with him anymore. And the other part? The other part was angry. Angry at Kieran for vanishing, angry at himself for being so stupid and even imagine anybody to actually like him. He felt heartbroken and it was his own damn fault because he was, as always, a fool. 

Another night came and went but Kieran still hadn‘t come back. Bill started to worry now. He knew that there were many dangerous people in the swamps and that Kieran, despite being in multiple gangs of outlaws, wasn‘t a good fighter or great at defending himself. So he asked people in camp if they had seen him but nobody did. Mary-Beth, who Bill rarely spoke a word with but who he knew was a good friend of Kieran‘s, also hadn‘t seen him and was equally worried. So Bill decided that he had to go and look for him. 

He asked Dutch and Arthur and Javier and even John to maybe come with him but none of them felt like Kieran was in danger. It made him angry again and when Micah snarled a “Don‘t you worry about your little girlfriend, I‘m sure he‘ll come back to you“ at him, Bill couldn‘t help but to punch in his nose and storm off on Brown Jack‘s back. If nobody was up to help him, he‘d have to find him on his own. 

It took him two days of traveling through the swamps until he finally found something. A few horses, hitched close to an old water mill… one of them a mare that he knew all to well. Branwen, Kieran‘s beloved horse that he cherished more than anything else in the world. Bill knew that he had found him - and he was certain that Kieran wasn‘t here by choice. If he was even alive anymore. 

Bill had never been a brave man. 

But he knew when it was time to fight and he was ready to risk his own life if he had to. If it meant helping the only man who he could fully trust in this world. The man who loved him. So he jumped off of Brown Jack, approached the house and kicked in the door. He started shooting without asking questions, killing everybody who was raising their guns at him. Most people thought he was a fool and mostly they were right - but he was good with his rifle and could kill multiple men within seconds. After barely a minute, nobody in the house was moving anymore. 

“Kieran?!“ he yelled out and frantically looked around. He couldn‘t see him anywhere so he walked up to the ladder, climbed down as fast as he could - and stopped in his tracks when he saw what they had done to him. 

Kieran‘s hands were tied up to the ceiling above his head, stripped down to his union suit that was smeared with blood. There were cuts all over his body, visible through the holes that they had ripped into the fabric. They had tortured him, he could see a few missing toes, one of his earlobes missing as well. Bill couldn‘t help but to stare at Kieran for a moment. This was not what he had expected. 

“Kieran …“ he said, softer this time and walked up to him. Kieran was unconscious, his head hanging down … but his chest was still rising and falling, slow but steadily. As he moved closer to him, Bill noticed that something else was missing - Kieran’s eyes had been removed, black, bloodied holes now where his eyes used to be. Bill felt his hands shaking from anger and worry but his instinct kicked in quickly. The years spent amidst the violence and struggle to keep alive against all odds had made his subconscious defy his otherwise oafish and lazy nature. He knew that he had to get out of here fast, before anybody else would come. 

He quickly untied Kieran, wrapped him in his long coat and carried him up the ladder. His mind was racing. He wasn‘t sure if Kieran would survive this, wasn‘t sure if the rest of the O‘Driscolls would wait for him outside. But he was sure that, if he brought Kieran back to camp, the O‘Driscolls might follow him there. There was no time to run without leaving a trace. And he was certain that Dutch would never forgive him if he led the enemy right back to them just because of Kieran. 

So he was the one who had to take care of him … and as he stepped out out the mill, Kieran in his arms, he realized that he wouldn‘t be able to do that at camp. Not in the way he wanted, not in the way Kieran deserved. Carefully he placed Kieran on Branwen, making sure that he was safe and secure on her back before he attached her lead to Brown Jack‘s saddle. He had to bring him to safety, somewhere in the heartlands. And maybe, if Kieran wanted, they could make themselves a home there. Far away from everything. Away from the violence and the bloodshed. 

He rode away, always looking back at Kieran who stayed unconscious, even after Bill made camp somewhere in the middle of nowhere. He didn‘t know where they were, he just hoped that this was far enough away from anybody who could be hunting them. After he set up the tent, he finally got around to cleaning up Kieran‘s wounds and bandaging his eyes as best as he could. Bill sure as hell was no doctor but trying to survive alone sure taught you one thing or two. He placed him on the bedroll and sat down next to him, staring at the campfire he made. 

He felt it again, the anxiety creeping up. The feeling of being worthless - he should‘ve been faster, better at hunting down those bastards who had hurt Kieran like this. He should‘ve told Kieran to just stay with him in that hotel room. To enjoy the morning with him as much as the night. But he hadn‘t. He hadn‘t done any of those things and now Kieran was hurt … and he wasn‘t even sure that he‘d survive. 

He felt Kieran stirr awake next to him. He looked over at him, gently touching his hand to let him know that he wasn‘t alone. 

“Kieran …“, he said softly and the other man looked around. “You‘re safe. I … Got you out. Took care of your wounds.“

Kieran stilled, taking Bill‘s hand in his, a whimper escaping him. Bill couldn‘t imagine how hard this must be for him. To wake up and not be able to see. To not know what was happening around him. 

“Can I … should I get you something? Some water? Are you hungry?“ He felt stupid again, unsure what to do. He had never been the one taking care of the wounded, he had only ever taken care of himself and fought alongside the others. This was new. 

“Please just .. lie down .. with me..“, Kieran said, his voice weak and barely audible. 

And Bill did as he asked, carefully lying down next to Kieran, putting his arms around him and pulling him close to his chest. 

“It‘s so dark …“, Kieran whispered, his voice trembling with anxiety.

“I know … I‘m sorry …“, Bill answered, his voice weavering. He‘d give his life for Kieran to see again.

“I‘m glad … that you‘re with me, though. Means I don‘t have to face the darkness all on my own.“

“You won‘t“, Bill agreed and gently caressed his back. “I won‘t ever leave you alone again.“

[rdrevents]

Rarepair Week has officially started!  Have fun with our prompts and create whatever you’d like for our beloved Rarepairs!  Tag your creation with #RDRRarepairWeek so we can find and reblog your posts If you have any questions, please check out our FAQ :) 

[rodeo-boots]

Last Embers on a Quiet Night

Rating: General

Pairing: Lenny Summers x Sean MacGuire

Prompts: First Kiss, Darkness

Notes: Late Contribution to the RDRRarePairWeek, why are these two a rarepair?? They’re the best <3

AO3

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He had stared at his friend for many nights already, had sat across from him at the campfire with a bottle in hand and simply looked. But Sean had never paid as much attention as now, not to the stories that left Lenny's mouth nor how the flames illuminated his features in a bright and orange glow.

By now, he had even forgotten all about the bottle in his hands, the beer he had nursed for the entire evening already, it's presence reminding him that he wasn't even drunk. Sean had no excuse to be staring at his friend like this, least of all sober, had no excuse to seek his gaze time and time again just to catch another glimpse of the intelligence in the younger man's eyes.

They weren't alone at the campfire, but it sure felt that way. It felt like the entire world revolved around them alone, and yet, no one noticed but them. Though Sean wasn't even sure if Lenny paid any attention to his glances.

His thoughts carried on, leading him into realms he had never allowed them to wander before and soon enough, his eyes were glued to Lenny's lips. Wondering if the man had ever kissed another – if the man had even had his first kiss at all. With the lives they've lived until now, the hardships Lenny had to overcome and the fight for survival that came with it, Sean figured he hasn't had time for the brighter sides of life. That he had never even dared to think of better times waiting ahead of him in the future.

The further the night progressed, the darker it became. Before long, most members of camp had retired to their bedrolls, even the strumming of Javier's guitar strings soon silenced around them. Only Lenny and Sean were left now, the atmosphere quiet but for the crackling of the fire.

Lenny picked up a twig, poking at the remnants of wood and ashes before leaning back where he sat. He had a thoughtful look about him, almost as if his thoughts had wandered just like Sean's had all this time.

"You think we'll be fine?" He spoke up, his eyes suddenly trained on Sean's face. Not expecting the question, or for any words to be spoken here and now to begin with, Sean blinked at the other man, shrugged his shoulders.

"Dutch always found a way 'til now." And for the time being, it seemed like they would be alright. They had saved him from being hanged, and had freed him from the grasp of bounty hunters. Sean didn't want to think anything but positive thoughts. "We had it worse," he added, needing to say something more before the conversation would die and Lenny might decide he'd rather go to sleep for the time being.

They all needed their rest, needed their strength up for the days to come, for the jobs they were meant to do. Money was their priority for now, getting back onto their feet the most important thing they had left to do. Sean felt lucky that he hadn't been up the same snowy mountains the other gang-members had survived; though not all of them had made their way down again.

Lenny released a thoughtful sigh, glancing into the embers of the fire. It was going to burn down before long, Sean could tell. But neither of them made a move to gather more firewood and keep it alive. "I was just thinkin', because Hosea said I should get out while I still can." His voice was low, almost as if he didn't want anyone to overhear.

Sean raised a brow. He hadn't heard anything of the like from the older man, briefly turning backwards now to take a look at the spot he had chosen to sleep. "You're a smart man," he spoke up eventually. "Y'know what's best for you." Lifting the bottle back to his lips, Sean took a sip, only absentmindedly fearing that Lenny might truly take his chances to leave the gang behind. "But you wouldn’t wanna leave good ol’ Sean behind," he raised a brow, the corners of his mouth lifting into a lopsided smile.

There was no doubt that Lenny could make something of himself out in the real world, no doubt that he had it in him to try and earn money the honorable way. Which was where he and Sean were inherently different. Because for Sean, there was no other possibility than to rob and steal and kill. He needed the thrill, the gratification. He wanted change, but he wanted it on his own terms.

Lenny chuckled, mumbling an "if you say so" with a shake of his head. He brought his hands over his face, yawning softly before turning his head towards Sean. Using one hand to reach out, he gestured for his friend to pass him the bottle of beer. It was still full, after all, plenty left for them to share. And Sean didn't have a problem doing that. Right now, he knew he didn't have to keep up an image, knew that he didn't have to impress anyone. Morgan and Dutch were asleep, only Lenny and he left to witness the quieter side of his character.

His eyes didn't move on again when Lenny brought the bottle to his lips, watching how he drank from the same beer he had nursed just a few moments ago. He was unable to get it out of his head how their lips had been in the same spot now, swallowing when he realized that he'd been staring for much too long.

"Do I have somethin' on my face?" Lenny laughed, passing the bottle back over to him, only for Sean to instantly shake his head. His cheeks were glowing through the darkness, but now that the last of the fire had been blown out by the wind, it was hard to see that.

Instead of answering, Sean gulped down more of the beer, bringing the bottle away with a cough, burping into his fist and smiling when Lenny playfully smacked his arm in response. "You're disgusting," said his friend, though it sounded like a compliment coming from him.

"And you love it," Sean replied before he knew it, easily teasing the other right back as though he's never done anything else in his life. It was easy to talk to Lenny, to feel comfortable around him. The two of them were closer in age than Sean was with any other member of camp, excluding the girls who only enjoyed his company on some occasions.

The night continued, and neither of them seemed ready for bed just yet. They only sat there and drank, Sean lighting a cigarette to share among them as well. Their breaths had been visible through the cold atmosphere before, but now that smoke was added to the mix, each exhale brought a small cloud with it.

Despite the silence around them and the song of the cicadas coming from left and right, Sean started to feel more confident the longer he sat by his friend's side. He glanced over at him after a while, just from the corners of his eyes, surprised when he found Lenny's eyes on him as well. "I've been wonderin'," he spoke up now, setting the bottle down between them and stubbing his cigarette out in the dirt. "If you ever been kissed by a girl."

Lenny chortled, certainly not having expected that kind of thing to go through his friend's head. "Why?" He asked, curiosity within his tone of voice. "You wanna play cupid and pair me off with one of the girls?"

Sean shook his head, a toothy grin appearing on his lips. He wasn't all that drunk, could definitely take much more than half a bottle of beer, but he was feeling sure of himself by now nonetheless. "Maybe I wanna kiss ya," he mumbled, masking his words as a joke just to see his friend's reaction, knowing that as an outlaw, he shouldn't speak a suggestion such as this in the first place.

Just like he had expected, Lenny looked taken aback for a moment. He stared at him as if he had three heads, tension building between then until it was easily broken by the man's bright laughter. "Sure," he chuckled. "And I'll be all too happy to give my first kiss to a man who can't be bothered to chew mint-leaves once a day." Despite his playful tone of voice, and the disbelief within it, he seemed interested – at least to some degree.

"You never even tried kissin' anyone?" Sean was sure that he could've, if he had ever wished to, Lenny being an attractive man to begin with, a smart one at that – definitely one the ladies would choose over him any day.

"Not everyone's as much of a lady's man as you," Lenny joked, alluding to the relationship between Sean and Karen. The relationship that Sean wasn't sure he was in by now. They had gone back and forth for a while, had messed around a couple of times, but maybe they were better off as friends after all.

"Well– I ain't no lady," Sean grinned once again, feeling like he had just said the smartest thing he's thought of all night. "And I'm right here," he scooted closer, sitting down by his friend's side with their thighs pressed together. "So if you wanna give it a shot..." but he didn't need to ask for more, Lenny rolling his eyes before leaning in, his mouth closed when he pecked Sean's lips for little more than a second.

The touch had lasted them way too shortly, Sean pouting when Lenny pulled away again, finding his eyes through the darkness that surrounded them. "That wasn't romantic at all," he complained, opening his mouth to say something more.

Lenny cut him off by speaking a challenge, however. "Show me, then," he baited, a smile once again at his lips.

And Sean happily did, reaching out with a tenderness no one would think he'd possess, resting his hand on the side of Lenny's face before leaning in. He tilted his head in what he hoped to be an expert move, their noses still bumping once he leaned in further. His eyes fluttered shut when their lips finally met properly, and while the kiss wasn't as polished and perfect as he had planned it out in his head, it was undeniably good.

Lenny's lips were soft beneath his own, shyly moving against Sean's while he tried to keep up with the kiss. He had to pull away for air soon, because no matter how much of a lady's man people thought him to be, he hadn't properly kissed anyone before, either.

[night-owl-morgansmith]

Late Rarepair Week: The Stars!

Kieran Duffy/ Bill Williamson

Summary:

Bill is half drunk when he finds Kieran all alone on Clemens Point's pontoon.

Bill was about to finish yet another whiskey bottle, drunk on Clemens Point’s shore.

No one wanted to drink with him tonight. John was too busy with Dutch’s plan about the Grays, Micah had been a mean bitch, calling him fat and stupid and useless, Javier was playing his guitar around Tilly with too sweet a smile, Morgan was out of camp as usual, Swanson was passed out already, and Sean and Lenny were giggling together like only young folks could.

[siterlas]

in the silence that followed  Charles/Sadie, 1230 words, rated M.  Written for the prompt "silent night" at RDR Rarepair Week.

At the end of both their ropes, they have a moment of connection in Lakay.

[amorgansgal]

Light Into Darkness

RDR Rare pair Week Fanfic

Prompt: Darkness

Pairing: Arthur/Charlotte.

Warnings: Nothing major, mentions of injury/illness.

She’d always loved hearing the wind and rain of a storm. Even when she was a little girl tucked up in her bed, with her Nanny fretfully sleeping on the smaller bed in the room, Charlotte would listen to the howling gale and the torrential rain. She would sneak over to the bedroom window and watch the bright, white lightening slash through the dark night sky, while thunder roared overhead like some mighty dragon.

For all she’d heard that dragons were fearsome beasts who would gobble up whole villages and steal pretty princesses, she would often entertain herself by closing her eyes and imagining she was riding that storm dragon. The body and wings were dark, thick grey clouds, the rain it’s icy, sharp scales.

Tonight, her dragon was roaring with gusto. She even heard the shutters shaking against the wind and the rain drumming hard on the roof of the cabin. For all the comfort a storm usually brought her, for all the warmth her bed provided, she found herself wide awake.

She curled up in the blankets again, closing her eyes and willing herself to sleep, but it was like some small, bothersome gnat had made its way into her brain. No matter which side she lay on, how she fluffed her pillows, or tried to reason with herself that she had a huge number of things to do tomorrow sleep evaded her.

Finally, she got up. While the cabin was dark, her eyes had adjusted and she knew it well enough to not trip or stumble against anything. Charlotte made her way into the kitchen, debating about whether making herself a cup of tea would help soothe her back to sleep, but something about the closed door, that opened out onto the garden, called to her.

She slid back the bolt and unlocked the door, then pulled it open and stepped out onto the porch. The torrential rain thrummed heavily on the ground, a dark, silky wave of darkness swallowing up the surrounding trees. Sometimes on quiet nights she would hear the rush of the nearby river or the trains trundling along the tracks towards Bacchus Station. But right now, she couldn’t even hear the rustle of animals in the bushes or the hoot of an owl in a nearby sycamore.

As always, she felt the pull of slipping out into the garden and allowing herself to be drenched by the rain, to dance in the everlasting depth of night, the boom of thunder her music and lightening illuminating the ground beneath her feet. She had once done it as a child, or at least had tried to, until her Nanny had yanked her back indoors.

She was lucky that her father was home to tell her off, rather than her mother. Her mother would have probably given her a thwack over the thighs with a slipper and sent her off to bed without supper. Her father just gave an amused chuckle when Nanny told him what she had been up to, before sitting her opposite him and telling her that being electrocuted was a very unpleasant experience. He had seen several exhibitions on it while he had been in New York. Being hit by lightening could mean instant death.

‘So, no more dancing in the rain, my little witch.’

She had nodded fearfully, wide eyed and terrified that the lightening could snake its way into the house, find her and zap her.

Still the urge never really left her, even though eventually the sense of adulthood prevailed and she would usually just watch a storm from a safe distance. She risked placing her hand just outside the safety of the porch, the rain drizzling lightly on her fingertips. A sudden flash of lightening made her pull her hand back. For a brief moment the garden was lit up as though it were mid-morning, she could easily make out the neat rows of vegetables and herbs, the bowed heads of the flowers in the plant pots by the cabin and in the distance, coming up the road was a brown, misshapen lump of something.

‘Bear!’ her mind instantly thought with fear. But even with the rumble of thunder, that followed the bright flash of light, she heard a horse’s whinny of terror. She debated what would be the best thing to do in the short amount of time she had with the person approaching her house. There was no way she could grab her rifle and a lamp; it would have to be one or the other.

She grabbed the rifle from behind the door and nestling it snuggle against her shoulder, called out as bravely as she dared, ‘Who is it? I warn you, I am armed and won’t think twice about shooting you, if you cause me trouble!’

In the gloom, the horse ambled forward, and Charlotte placed her finger on the trigger. ‘I’ll give you to the count of three. One… two…’

But she never got to three and was instead interrupted by a low groan, as someone slipped from the saddle and landed on the ground with a low, heavy thud. She cautiously stepped a little closer, unfortunately all too aware of the tricks people could play on gullible, kind strangers.

‘Who are you?’ she called out again.

Lightening split the sky in two with a brilliant flash and she was able to see the stranger, though he was lying face first in the cold, dank mud of her garden. She could make out the brown leather jacket, a blue cotton shirt, heavy boots on his feet. His light brown hair was lank and plastered to his head.

Before she had even realised it, she was racing across the garden path and knelt down by his side, practically dragging the man into her lap and rolling him over. He let out a gasping wheeze as she did, but one of his hands lifted up, trying to cup her face.

His shirt was ripped and blood stained the material. His face was almost unrecognisable, bruises blossoming everywhere, his lips cracked and bloodied, his skin ghostly pale, eyelids closed over those sharp clear blue-green eyes that she had grown to know and love so well. He let out a few rasping breaths, then coughed, a terrifying, brutal cough that seemed to drain him of any energy he had left.

‘Trouble, ‘m trouble,’ he said, his words a scratchy whisper that could have easily been lost in the rain.

‘Arthur,’ she murmured, holding him, cradling him against her. She had so many questions screaming through her mind, ‘What happened, how did you get here, who hurt you, where have you been, why did you leave me for so long?’

Another racking cough seized his body and afterwards he let out another groan, before resting in her arms once more. ‘Can I come in?’ he muttered faintly.

She found herself laughing at the absurdity of the situation, that he would still ask permission to enter her home, even though he looked like death. He managed a wheeze and a painful smile, that looked more grimace than grin, but his fingers finally cupped her cheek and he gazed up at her as though he was glad to be there, as though he had found peace, as though he had found his way home.

[himboarthurmorgan]

Sweet Forgotten Sorrow

Written during Rarepairs Week for the prompt ‘First Kiss’

Pairings: Bonnie MacFarlane/John Marston

Characters: John Marston, Bonnie MacFarlane

Tags: First Kiss, Infidelity, Mutual Pining, MacMarston

Chapters: 1/1

They were leaning on the corral fence, watching the cattle meander about within, when Bonnie turned to him. “Well, I don’t know about you,” she said, “but I work up a mighty thirst after a long day slavin’ around here. You’ve come all this way. Be rude of you not to join me for a drink.” She gave him a sidelong grin. “You are a gentleman aren’t you, Mister Marston?”

Helpless to refuse her, John tipped his hat with a smirk. “Yes, Ma’am.”

READ ON AO3

[rdrevents]

One week until the Rarepair Week X-Mas Special starts! Have a peek at our prompts this year so you can start creating in time to post. Check out the FAQ if you have any further questions and reblog this post so more people can see and join in ♥

Thanks to @outlier-rookie​ for letting me use his beautiful screenshot!

[rdrevents]

What is the RDR Events Rarepair Week?

The Rarepair week is an event hosted through the RDR Events blog. There will be a prompt for each day of the week to inspire people to create art, fanfiction or whatever they want to honor the rarepairs of the fandom. People can tag their creations with #RDRRarepairWeek either here or on Twitter to get reblogged/retweeted by the affiliated blogs.

I can’t participate during the week, can I still create something afterwards?

Of course! The prompt list will stay on this blog for you to come back to. You’re always welcome to create something with it even after the event is over. Just be aware that the response to posting within the hashtag might be a little slower after the week is over.

Who can participate?

Everybody is welcome to participate! We are affiliated with the RDR: Safe Haven discord, but joining is not restricted to members.

What is a “Rarepair”?

Any pairing that isn’t frequently featured within the fandom. A rough guide would be any pairing with less than 150 works on AO3.

Examples for this might be: Dutch x Annabelle / Kieran x Bill / Javier x Bill / Tilly x Lenny /Sadie x Charlotte / John x Bonnie / Arthur x Charlotte / etc.

You’re also more than welcome to create something for a new pairing that you’ve never seen before!

Am I only allowed to create for a Rarepair?

Ultimately, you’re free to create content for whichever pairing you’d like. However, please keep in mind that this event strives to shine a light on the pairings with less fandom representation.

Who is hosting the Event?

The event is hosted by Bane (purplecatdad), who will be supported by the RDRevents team.

[purplecatdad]

Rarepair Week “First Kiss”

Part of the RDR Events Rarepair Week!

Prompt: First Kiss

Arthur/Kieran | Teens and Up | Canon-Divergence | CW Shot wounds

Arthur isn’t part of the VDL Gang in this one, he is just some outcast who some day runs into a skittish young man with a bad wound and decides to help him! 

AO3 Link will follow. 

Kieran knew that she shouldn’t have trusted them. He knew that, after all, the van der Linde gang wasn’t all much different from the O’Driscolls. And that they absolutely would kill them the moment they had no need for him anymore. 

He still cursed himself as he was riding Branwen, hard and fast through the shrubs, making his way through Cumberland Forest to the general direction of the Grizzlies, up north where he hoped for safety. He was terrified of the animals there but he hoped that he’d be able to lose the gang there.

“Come on, girl. I know you can do it”, he whispered to Branwen, pressing his legs into her sides to push her forwards even though he knew that she was running for her life as well.

A shot went off that grazed her shoulder, both Kieran and Branwen crying out. He couldn’t lose this horse, not after everything they went through. Another shot and this time Kieran felt blinding pain through his leg. He cried out, felt the blood seeping down through the fabric of his shirt but he grabbed the reins tighter. No matter how much blood he’d lose, he had to get away from Dutch’s boys before they could catch up to them. 

He just passed Fort Wallace when he heard the train whistling, announcing it’s arrival at the nearby station. Luckily, Kieran knew the area since he had camped up here with his former gang before so he pushed Branwen forward towards Baccus station, up the mountains. This was his chance, if he could only get the train between himself and his pursuers he might live to see another day. 

They were galloping up towards the station, the train rushing towards them. Kieran pushed Branwen to keep running forward. He heard how they passed the train tracks, the train dangerously close. He heard Bill curse loudly behind him as the train rushed over the tracks right after Kieran had passed them. He still made Branwen run, still as fast just to get some more distance between them. The train came to a halt, stopping for the few passengers that would leave at the station and Kieran prayed to whoever would hear it that the gang wouldn’t try to get around the train. 

As he passed the Donner Falls, the rushing of the water drowning out any other sound he dared to slow down Branwen, sitting down heavily in the saddle and leaning back. He looked behind himself, scanning the area for any possible threat … but there was none. He sighed gently, slumping down in the saddle and gently scratching Branwen’s neck. “We did it, girl …” he said and gently nudged her forward. Even though he had lost them, he knew that he couldn’t just stay here. He needed a proper camp, some place to rest up, to take care of his wounds.

Branwen was breathing hard, her walk now painstakingly slow but he didn’t have the energy to make her move faster. His vision got blurry, his mind started spinning. He looked over at his leg again, the blood dripping out of the wound. He knew that he should cover it up, but … His vision went black and all he heard was a “You alright there, mister?!” before he lost consciousness. 

--

Kieran woke up to the smell of something cooking on a campfire. It made his stomach growl loudly before he could even open his eyes properly and he heard a low rumble of a man chuckling close to him. 

“Least yer still hungry.” He heard a stranger’s voice as he slowly sat up, blinking as he took in his surroundings. He was surrounded by trees, the early morning sun just rising above the horizon in the distance. A small campfire was lit next to the lean-to tent he was now sitting in, a man crouching next to it as he stirred around in the pot. 

The stranger was impressively large, broad shoulders, some scruff on his face, an old leather hat on top of his head. He looked rough, like a man that was used to living outside but when he looked over at Kieran there was a smile on his face and his eyes seemed kind and friendly. “Name’s Arthur. Found yer bleeding out on your horse, fixed yer up, didn’t want you dying on me. Breakfast’s almost ready.”

Kieran stared at him for a moment, not used to kindness like this. “Where’s my horse?” he blurted out, not interested in making conversation now. “Is she alright?” 

The other man chuckled softly at that and motioned towards a closeby tree, where three horses were standing. An impressively tall, black dappled thoroughbred standing next to an arabian with a brindled coat, unlike anything Kieran had ever seen. And right next to them was his horse. “Branwen!” He called out, got up and ran towards her. Halfway there his vision got dark again and he almost stumbled into her. 

“Woha there”, suddenly the stranger was standing close to him as well, steading him with a hand on his arm, his grip firm but gentle. “You lost a lotta blood, make sure to rest some b’fore you start runnin’ like that.”

Kieran closed his eyes until the world stopped spinning, blushing slightly as he realized how close the handsome stranger actually was to him. He excused himself as he got out of his grip and focused back on Branwen. “She got shot, I-” as he stroked down her neck towards her shoulder he realized that her wound had been tended to. Surprised, he looked up at Arthur who just shrugged gently. 

“I know a thing or two ‘bout horses. Took care of her wound .. but she’ll be alright.”

Kieran stared at him for a moment, then looked at Branwen before he looked back to the pot of stew on the fire. “Why… why would you do all this … for a stranger? What’s in it for you?” He had never met anybody who would just do something out of goodwill for a person they didn’t actually know. 

Arthur shook his head, an amused smile on his lips. “Ain’t nothin’ in for me, ‘s far ‘s I know. But helpin’ folk.. ‘s the righ thing to do ‘s all. Now, let’s get some good into ya.”

So they sat down around the campire together. Arthur served them both some stew, made with rabbit and some wild carrots. Kieran had to hold himself back not to gobble it all down within seconds after being starved out by the van der Linde gang. Arthur seemed to notice how hungry he was because he immediately refilled Kieran’s bowl after he had finished the first one.  

“So, why’d you get shot?” Arthur asked eventually as Kieran was halfway done with his second server. “Pissed off the wrong fellar?” Kieran thought about it for a moment. He knew that mentioning a gang could seem a bit too threatening. He didn’t want to risk Arthur sending him away again if he learned that he had been hunted down by some outlaws … that he used to be a part of. But he also felt bad keeping it from him. What if they actually found him here, O’Driscolls or Dutch’s boys? 

“... It’s a long story. But something like that, yeah. I was … they had tied me up for a while, got away though. Don’t think they followed me, though. I ain’t important enough for that.”

“Shit. Ya wanna talk to the law?”

Kieran looked up at him, shaking his head. “No … no, better not. I ain’t … well …”, he wasn’t even sure if the local law would know his name, he never played a big role in any gang that he was running with. But it was still not a good idea to get the law involved. What would Arthur think of that, though? 

“‘s alright. I ain’t exactly friendly with the law either”, Arthur assured him and set his bowl aside. “Feel free to stick around, I don’t mind a little company.”

Kieran watched him for a moment, wondering if Arthur actually meant what he said or if he was just saying it to be polite. To him, Arthur didn’t seem like the kind of man who just said something to be polite, though. And so he smiled and gave him a little nod. “I’d love to.”

--

And so they spent the next weeks together. Arthur told him about the Arabian he had caught. “Stripey”, as he called the young stallion just for the time being. Apparently there were two brothers down by Rhodes who’d give a good price for a horse like that, even without papers. So Arthur usually caught wild horses, the pretty ones that looked fast and strong. He was good with horses as he had worked on a ranch for a good part of his life and therefore had an easy time taming them. 

Arthur had said that he didn’t like the word “breaking” because it wasn’t what he did. He explained to Kieran that horses wanted to trust and follow anyway, that it was in their nature. That people didn’t have to break their will in order for them to do what they wanted. And Kieran couldn’t agree more. He told Arthur about Branwen and that he never trusted anybody more than his horse. He told him about how he had found her as a young mare, kind and sweet but about to be put down for a simple injury on her leg as she wasn’t able to “make money” like this. Back then Kieran had pleaded with the owner to please let her go, that he would take her for free even if she couldn’t walk properly so the farmer didn’t have to waste a bullet on her. But the man had just laughed at him and sent him away. So Kieran had done what every reasonable horse lover would do - he had stolen Branwen away the next night and vanished with her. 

When Kieran was done with his story Arthur had smiled at him in sympathy. It was something they could bond over - their passion and love for horses. And even if they looked fairly different, they had a lot of things in common. Both of them were never able to settle down anywhere. Chased away, running from the law, not belonging to anybody. But it made them belong together and so Kieran decided to run with him and help him train the horses. 

Arthur was one of the kindest men Kieran had ever met - sure, he didn’t talk much and got a little loud when he drank (which he always did after they sold a horse) but he never insulted him, never made fun of him for being a little jumpy at times. He even took his time to teach Kieran how to read and write after Kieran had admired him for his pretty handwriting one day and admitted that he couldn’t read any of it. 

Kieran caught himself staring at Arthur now and then as well. When he was concentrating on a task, cleaning his hunting rifle or speaking softly to one of the horses. Arthur was a beautiful man with the most amazing voice that Kieran has ever heard and blue eyes with the prettiest speckles of green when the sun hit them just right. Kieran had known that he fancied men but the longer he spent his time with Arthur the more he realized that falling in love with one was even a possibility. He didn’t just admire him for his body, didn’t just desire him … he just enjoyed his company and being with him in the simplest way. He didn’t dare confess anything to him, though. He knew what people did with men like him. And while Arthur was kind and caring, Kieran didn’t know what he thought about “queers”. So Kieran kept quiet and just stuck to his way of admiring him from a distance.  

--

After they had sold Stripey they had made their way up north again because Arthur had heard that there was another Arabian up by Lake Isabella. A white one this time and it really sparked both of their interests. Kieran knew that it meant coming back to Valentine because it was the logical stop before the hike up north but Arthur promised him that he was a good shot and that he’d keep him safe (which made Kieran blush) so they did it. 

Luckily they didn’t meet any of the van der Linde gang on their way through town or up the mountain. It was quite the hike and Kieran wondered if it was really worth the trip but when Arthur told him to join him up in his tent at night to keep each other warm with their body heat he stopped wondering about it and just agreed that yes, it was a fantastic idea to get up into the snow together. 

When they finally found said horse Kieran was in awe. She was a beauty, her fur so white that they both almost hadn’t noticed her in the snow. Arthur called her Snowdrop. She was a piece of work though, wild at heart and not very trusty. Arthur even wondered if she had ever been mistreated by a person before because she was so skittish in the beginning but she didn’t bare any scars that indicated it. 

They chose a different path down the mountain this time as Arthur had some “business” to attend in Strawberry. At first, Kieran was happy about it. He had been around the area before and had always found it rather pretty. But when they had made camp at the foot of Mount Shann everything changed. 

“Oh, ain’t that good ol’ Kieran Duffy!” he heard coming from a line of trees. The sun already vanished so it was hard to see, especially after tending to the fire but Kieran recognized the voice immediately. It was the voice of Carter Jenkins, one of those who had always loved to bully him during his time at the O’Driscolls.  

“Carter!”, Kieran yelled as he jumped up. “J-just leave us be! No need to shoot!”, he said as he saw the weapons in his and his companion’s hands. He wasn’t alone, in fact he was with 3 other people, all of whom Kieran recognized from his time with his former gang. Oh, this wasn’t good. 

“Hmm, you know if you give us all your money and the horses … I might consider it. Though I’m sure Colm would love to see you himself. You know that he prefers to kill the traitors himself.”

Kieran’s eyes widened but before anybody could say anything else, Arthur had pulled out his gun and shot Carter right into his face. All eyes where on him for a second before the other two raised their guns at Arthur and shot. Kieran yelled out his name and tried to get between him and the others but he was too slow to get between them in time.

Arthur went down but so did the other three men. Kieran stared at them in surprise for a split second. Arthur had always told him that he was a good shot and Kieran had believed him. But three people, right through the heart in the matter of only a few seconds? 

The thud of Arthur’s body hitting the ground pulled Kieran out of his thoughts and he crouched down next to Arthur to inspect his wounds. two of them were just minor graze wounds but one had shot right through his shoulder, blood seeping out of the wound and Arthur groaning loudly. 

“Oh shit, oh shit .. Arthur! Stay with me!” Kieran said to him with his voice full of panic and distress. He didn’t know what to do so he just took off his shirt and pressed it down on the wound to stop the bleeding. 

“Ain’t .. goin’ nowhere …”, Arthur moaned softly. “Just … gotta shut the wound …”, he said, slowly opening his eyes and looking up at Kieran. “Can you do that? Just .. some gunpowder and fire .. should do it …” Arthur’s eyes squeezed shut again, most likely from the pain.

“Gunpowder .. yes I ..”, frantically he looked around until he saw Arthur’s revolver in the dirt. He let go of his blood soaked shirt, got to the gun and pulled out one of the bullets. He had seen this way of shutting a wound once before. It wasn’t pretty and he knew that it hurt - but it was quicker than shutting it with a needle and threat. And the things he needed were far more available right now. 

After he had ripped open the shirt around the wound he pried open the bullet with his teeth, poured the gunpowder into the wound and lit it on fire with a small, burning stick from the campfire. He jumped when the gunpowder caught fire, his nose full of the smell of Arthur’s burning flesh he had to gag as Arthur yelled out in pain before going still. 

“Arthur?!” He waited for a response but there was nothing. For a few seconds he feared the worst but then he focused and realized that Arthur’s chest was still rising and falling. He was breathing. Alive. Shock had probably knocked him out, he had seen it before in people he had fought with side by side. He just had to keep him warm and protected during the night and then hopefully he would be awake the next morning. 

So he set to work. He carefully dragged Arthur into the tent and put all the blankets that they had on top of him before he dug out a grave for the dead O’Driscolls. He knew that he didn’t have to but it felt wrong to just leave them lying outside. It was the right thing to do. And while Kieran knew that he wasn’t the greatest of men, he wanted to be honorable.

When he was done with the quick burial he went back into the tent. It had been a rather cool day during this early summer and the floor wasn’t the driest so he worried about Arthur. For a moment he hesitated but then he shut the tent as securely as he could and slipped under the blanket with Arthur. He hoped that Arthur would understand it the next morning - that he only did this to keep his body temperature up, to make sure that he would recover from the shot. 

Kieran clung to Arthur that night, hugging him to make sure that he’d notice any shift or change in the other man. He prayed to whichever god would listen that Arthur would make it. He couldn’t lose him. Couldn’t lose the only human companion he ever trusted or cared about. Arthur had shown him kindness when nobody else would and had protected him from the monsters of his past, in more than just one sense. It wasn’t fair that he was the one lying in a tent with a shot wound. It should’ve been Kieran. But it seemed like yet another cruel joke of fate that it wasn’t him who had gotten hit. Just another good thing that might be taken from him. “You gotta make it…”, Kieran whispered as he got even closer to Arthur, listening to his weak breath and closing his eyes. “You will survive. You have to.”

Eventually he drifted off into a light sleep. Worry and adrenaline had worn him out so much that he was just too exhausted to stay awake, even if he knew that he should’ve. He still slept restless, dreams of the past and a dark future creeping up on him and keeping him worried all night, even in his sleep. He finally found rst in the early morning hours, awake but happy that Arthur was still breathing, still warm next to him. 

Another hour passed and Arthur slowly stirred awake. Kieran sat up right away, looking down at the handsome man. He was beautiful like this. And when Arthur looked up at him, a smile on his face, Kierasn couldn’t help himself. “You’re alive”, he whispered before he bent down and kissed Arthur’s lips. Gentle and careful, but also full of joy to see the other alive. Shocked, he realized what he had done and pulled away, now staring down at Arthur who looked at him in confusion. “I- I’m sorry … I didn’t .. I … uh …”

Arthur’s features softened and he chuckled gently. “Nothin’ to be sorry ‘bout. Was wonderin’ when you’d finally do it”, he said and pulled Kieran down for another kiss. 

[rdrevents]

Are you ready to get festive? Our Rarepair Week X-Mas special will start on the 6th of December!  Make sure to follow @rdrevents so you won’t miss the prompts which will be posted very soon. Until then you can check out the event’s FAQ here and help spread the word by reblogging this post!  

Thanks to @outlier-rookie​ for letting me use his beautiful screenshot!

[rdrevents]

Rarepair week has officially started!  Check out our prompts here ♥ If you have any questions, check out our FAQ Happy creating, and don’t forget to tag your stuff with #RDRRarepairWeek

[night-owl-morgansmith]

Late Rarepair Week, here it is!! Albert Mason/Arthur Morgan

Summary: 

Arthur, despite his growing feelings for Albert through their meetings, doesn't dare to say anything to his friend.

When Albert slipped from the cliff, Arthur was pretty sure he died a little bit himself.

Seeing the photographer so close to the edge had already scared him, but by now, he was used to the fear, for how many times Arthur had seen Albert next to danger.

He had also managed to get used to the sting in his heart, ever stronger with each meeting, a pull to the man he couldn’t help. Sometimes, it felt mutual, something close to flirting, but Arthur wasn’t sure. This uncertainty made him walk on eggs most of the time, and he knew, deep down, that it’d stopped him from any move.

[rdrevents]

THANK YOU

to everyone who has taken part in RDR Rarepair Week, and thank you to those who have supported and shared the works of the creators! If you didn’t manage to take part, never fear! The RDR Rarepair Week Prompts are there to be used at any time, and if you continue to use the #RDRrarepairweek tag, we will continue to reblog! We already have our next event in the works - here’s a little sneakpeak of our banner 👀

All will be revealed next week!

[night-owl-morgansmith]

Late rarepair Week: Darkness!

Arthur Morgan/Josiah Trelawny

Summary:

Arthur finally wake up after days of burning fever, and Josiah is here to reassure him.

Arthur couldn’t get out. However he tried, whatever he said, no matter how many times he woke up, he couldn’t get away.

A part of him, so small and whispering, knew he was laid down on his cot, the feeling of the old mattress itching on his bare skin. But everytime he opened his eyes, the world spinning, the dull ache in his shoulder ever present, his skin hot with exhaustion and fever, he was back in that cave, hanged upside down, desperately wanting to warn anyone who would hear him.