#like.. it's New Austin!! from RDR!!!

[sweebyjeeby]

Assorted RDR Headcanons

When Hosea was teaching Arthur how to fish when Arthur was a kid, he would have to constantly keep his eye on Arthur to prevent him from shoveling the cheese bait into his mouth.

John has a severe fear of wolves after what happened in the mountains.

Arthur often disappears to camp into the mountains, and Charles always has to find him.

Micah is the type of guy to intentionally say something horrifically offensive and then when someone inevitably gets upset he gets all pissy and tells them to take a joke.

Lenny is lactose intolerant, but that won’t stop him from shoveling down cheese.

Jack keeps climbing trees and giving poor Abigail a heart attack. Javier taught him how to do it.

Kieran sneezes like a kitten and everyone makes fun of him for it.

Arthur is a big fan of jelly beans, and Saint Denis is the only place nearby that he can get them.

Javier doesn’t like being in the forest, and often sneaks down to New Austin to be in the sand like a goblin.

Arthurs hair is a total rats nest, and breaks any combs that go through it. Trelawney bought him a mustache comb, but he has never touched it.

Grimshaw is the only one who can boss Uncle around without him throwing a fit. He is afraid of her.

Pearson cannot stand fish, and likes his food a bit overseasoned, much to the dismay to the others in camp.

Dutch bounces his leg whenever he is thinking hard, inevitably causing others tell him to stop shaking the table. Sean believes almost anything someone says as long as they say it with enough confidence. He still believes in bigfoot.

Arthur talks to his horse as if it’s a person, all the time. It creeps some people out, but he doesn’t care.

[cc-xinxin]

Outlaws = bad guys? No, the only problem is that their time has passed

Something I think rdr fandom has overlooked is that - Arthur’s line ‘the whole world has changed. They don’t want folks like us no more.’ It implies that in the past, the society wanted ppl like them. I think ‘wanted’ here doesn’t mean ‘legal’, but they’re needed by the society or, as an organic part of the temporary lawless land of the west. Being an outlaw is not as notorious and evil as it might seem in 1899. I think this explains why it’s so easy for almost everyone in gang fell into the outlaw lifestyle. Especially gangs like VDL gang in its original robinhood form, they can even be seen partially as the ‘vigilantes’ in modern day language. There are two lines I can use to support my point. Local marshal (people) prefers bandits to the ‘federal law’, and John defends his past:

1. In the mission in rdr1 in which John met the Armadillo Marshal for the first time, the Marshal said something like ‘Bandits like Bill Williamson’s gang are trouble, but they’re trouble we can handle. What annoys me more are the federal agents. Why should a bunch of college students in the east coast decide ppl in New Austin how to live?’

2. In the ‘And the Truth will Set You Free’ mission in rdr1 in which John rode with Agent Ross to get to Dutch, Agent Ross laughed at John’s past saying I wonder how much money you’ve taken from the ppl. To this John replied, ‘we did more for the people with the money we took than your damn government ever did!’

In short, being an outlaw back then was an easy choice to make, and didn’t always entail doing bad things, just following different standards of justice, even if ppl may see things differently later after the law/the world has changed. Yes I’m defending John, Arthur, Hosea and Dutch and many other vdl gang members’ choice to be an outlaw in the very first place. It was more about the society and their identities as minorities or ostracized ppl than ‘oh Dutch’s famous charisma and his silver tongue’!

The gang life in chapter 1-4 was deliberately portrayed as something good, harmonious, rememberable, a stark contrast with the brutal outside world, the last vestiges of the lost Wild West. Despite its imperfection, the game mourned the loss of this kind of lifestyle to GTA-ish modernity, and did not judge ppl for being an outlaw in the first place. We can easily name tons of good ppl in vdl gang, but none of the lawman in both games are good people (Milton, Ross, etc) .

If anything’s more telling, the marketing slogan of rdr2 is ‘Outlaws for life’, and not ‘let’s be a law abiding citizen or you’re dead’.

Ps. The official description of vdl gang by rockstar:

[f0rg3t-me-n0t]

Shelter

🔞minors do not interact 

Arthur Morgan x Reader 

Summary: After fleeing to Colter you and Arthur take it upon yourselves to hunt some food for the gang. Everything goes south after a bear surprises you and you both have to take shelter in a small cabin.

Words: 10,3 k

Warnings: slight angst, fluff, one bed, smut, p in v, oral (female receiving), fingering 

A/N: It’s been a while since I last wrote something. RDR kinda has me in a chokehold since a few months so I decided to write something for my boy Arthur <3 enjoy!

Masterlist

~~~

The area around Colter was extremely cold. That was the first thing you had learned when you and the gang arrived in the small abandoned mining town after fleeing from Blackwater.

Even inside the small cabin most of the gang stayed at during the day it was freezing. The fire that was burning inside the old fireplace didn’t help much and the general mood around the people was pretty low. 

Blackwater had cost too much for nothing. Everything had gone so far south, that you didn’t even know if anything worse could’ve happened. You had lost Jenny and Davey and you had to leave Sean and Mac behind. Hell, you didn’t even know if both of them were still alive, plus, now all of you had a high bounty on your heads. The area around New Austin was completely taboo and the other states wouldn’t be completely safe either.

A sigh left your lips as you brushed your hands up and down your arms desperate for some warmth. Your gaze wandered around the room. Karen and Mary-Beth were talking in hushed voices, Mrs Grimshaw had her usual glare faced towards the snowy scenery outside, Hosea and Lenny were staring into the crackling fire and Abigail was tending to John who luckily had been found a day ago by Arthur and Javier. He had gotten lost in the snowstorm and nearly been killed by wolves.

Finally, you decided that you had to get outside for a bit. Colter was unforgiving. The gray landscape and the quietness and whisper of hushed voices were enough to make your mind go crazy about the last few days. The ache of your trembling body due to being tense constantly didn’t make it any better. You rubbed your hands together, breathing into them as you stepped towards the horses that were hitched in front of the cabin. 

„You good, girl?“, you muttered and patted Willow, your horse, who greeted you with a gentle whinny.

You smiled as she nuzzled into you, searching your clothes for something to eat and a soft chuckle fell from your lips.

„I know. Here, that’s all I have.“, you said and pulled some crackers from the pocket of your coat.

Willow curiously sniffed the treat and looked at you a bit disappointed. She was more used to the apples and carrots you normally gave her.

„Don’t look at me like that.“, you sighed and offered her the crackers once more. „We’re all kinda low on food right now. It won’t be long until I can get you some fresh treats. I promise.“

At least you hoped your words were true and you stretched your hand out for her. Again she sniffed the crackers that lay on your flat hand and finally, she took them from you.

„That’s my girl.“, you muttered with a sad smile and gently caressed her neck, then you heard some footsteps.

Curiously you turned your head and noticed Arthur walking over to his horse that stood right next to yours.

„Arthur.“, you greeted him and he gave you a little nod, then his steps slowed down and he gave his mount a gentle pat.

Even though he had lost his trusty mare Boadicea during the mess of Blackwater he still took good care of the old horse that he had picked up when he, Dutch, and Micah had stumbled upon the Adler widow.

You both had never talked much with each other apart from a bit of small talk so it quickly fell silent again and you looked back at Willow who was still chewing on the crackers you had given her.

With a sigh you began to pat her once more, your fingers slowly tracing through her thick and warm fur coat. By repeating the motion you tried to get some warmth off of her but your fingers nearly felt like they were frozen by now.

„Damn it.“, you cursed quietly and rubbed your hands together, blowing against them.

You would kill for some gloves. It had been a few months since you had joined the gang and until then you had only stayed in the warmer region of New Austin. Due to this, you hadn’t been prepared for what was to come after Blackwater and even the girls didn’t have a spare pair for you. „Luckily“ they had been able to give you poor Jenny‘s winter coat, bless her soul. You still couldn’t believe she was dead.

As your thoughts started to wander you didn’t notice Arthur’s gaze on you.

„Y/N.“, his voice finally managed to pull you out of your daze.

„Oh, I’m sorry!“, you flinched a bit and looked at him. „Did you say something?“

The corner of his mouth twitched slightly as he pulled something from his saddle bags.

„Here.“, he then stepped closer to you. „You can have these. I don’t need 'em anymore.“

Arthur offered you a pair of woolen gloves. There were a few loose threads and they were riddled with holes here and there, but they would surely warm your hands up.

„Oh.“, you muttered softly.

You hadn’t expected this. Especially since the two of you hadn’t exchanged more than a few sentences since you had become part of the gang.

„Thanks…that’s…real nice.“, you didn’t quite know what to say, but you were really thankful.

„Don’t mention it.“, he waved it off immediately, humble as always. „I don’t want you to freeze your fingers off. You still need 'em.“

He stretched his hand out and you finally took the gloves from him to put them on. They were a bit big but you felt better immediately. Arthur gave it a nod of approval, then he set into motion again, heading for the small cabin he, Dutch, Molly, and Hosea were staying in.

„I’ll see you around.“, he said and you could only mumble a quick „Y-Yeah.“.

Your gaze followed him until he was out of sight and you were still pretty taken aback by what had just happened. Sure, he had never given you any reason to think bad of him or make you think that he didn’t like you, but you knew that he was one to be skeptical of new additions to the gang, so it had been quite the surprise.

Slowly you rubbed your hands together again, the woolen fabric leaving a comforting feeling on your skin and another shout of your name made your head turn to the cabin you had left a while ago.

It was Miss Grimshaw. Of course, it was.

„Miss L/N! The work won’t do itself!“, she ushered and you rolled your eyes.

„Coming!“, you shouted back and gave your horse one last pat before you headed back inside.

~~~

The mood around the gang seemed to be getting worse and worse by the day. The Blackwater massacre was still deeply embedded in everyone’s minds and being on the last few rations of food didn’t make it any better.

After doing some chores you had decided to sneak away to escape the rest of the gang for a while. It just felt awful being with grumpy people the whole day and you were longing for some much-needed time to calm your nerves and mind. Strolling around the old abandoned mining town you hoped for some interesting discoveries, but after half an hour you gave up. Colter was just as boring as the gray scenery gave away.

With a huff, you kicked some snow around and slowly made your way back. Miss Grimshaw was surely looking for you by now anyway. Just when you arrived by your horse you overheard a conversation between Pearson, Charles, and Arthur.

„We really need some food.“, Pearson sighed. „I only have a few more supplies and people will begin starving by tomorrow evening if we don’t manage to hunt something. I already sent Lenny and Bill and they found nothing.“

Arthur chuckled after this.

„Well, Lenny's more into book readin' than huntin'. Bill's a fool.“, he snorted and pointed to the mountains in the background. „Unless those mountains are full of game that wanna read... ain't no wonder they found-“

„Enough of this. We'll go find something.“, Charles cut his words short with a sigh and they both started to walk towards their horses, coming closer to you in the process.

„What about your hand?“, Arthur asked and cocked an eyebrow as he looked at Charles. „You can't go hunting with that wound.“

You bit your lip as you eavesdropped. He was right. Charles had burned his hand during the chaos in Blackwater. He wouldn’t be of much use during the hunt apart from maybe helping him to track something. 

Should you offer your help? After all, you had often accompanied your father on his hunting trips before your parent had been killed and you had to manage your life on your own.

You gulped hard as the memories came back, but still decided to speak up.

„Arthur. Charles.“, you approached the two men who were still arguing and preparing their horses.

They immediately turned around to you with questioning faces.

„Hello Y/N.“, Charles greeted you and Arthur gave you the usual nod. „What is it?“

„I…uh…I kinda overheard your conversation and…“, you scratched your neck. „I thought I could go with Arthur. I have a bit of hunting experience so it would be no problem for me. You should rest, Charles. Your hand needs time to heal.“

In the beginning, your voice had been a bit meek and shaky but towards the end, it had gotten stronger as you found your confidence. You really wanted to help. Well, maybe not just that. Being away from camp would surely do you good, but you still mostly wanted to contribute to getting some food for everyone.

„You sure?“, Arthur furrowed his brows, while Charles seemed to be pondering about your offer. 

„Yeah.“, you nodded eagerly. „I‘ve hunted a few deer and rabbits, one time even an elk.“

It went silent and the two men were deep in thoughts.

„Well….we both know that you can handle a gun.“, Charles then said. „But you really gotta make sure that you catch something. We all depend on you. Are you sure you can do that?“

Arthur nodded in agreement and you went quiet for a moment as you reminisced your previous hunting experiences. You felt their eyes still boring into you as you snapped back to reality and finally nodded.

„I’m sure.“, you then confirmed. 

You felt nervous as you said this, after all, it meant that there was no option to fail, but your voice was firm.

„Alright then.“, Arthur muttered and Charles gave in.

„Fine. I‘ll leave you two to it then.“, he said. „Be careful.“

With that, he left the both of you alone.

The relief made you breathe out, a breath you didn’t know you had been holding in and you went over to Willow to get her ready for the trip.

„You ready?“, Arthur asked when you hat mounted her and you led your horse next to his with a nod. „Here. You’ll need this.“

He handed you a rifle that you hung over your torso, then you both finally left Colter. You rode silently for a while, following some leads Charles had given Arthur earlier, but soon Arthur spoke up.

„How come you have huntin‘ experience?“, he asked. „I always thought you were a thief and provided yourself like that. At least that’s what Dutch and Hosea told me.“

You met his blue eyes and sighed.

„You know, I had a pretty normal life before the thievery.“, you chuckled sadly. „I often went out with my Pa. He taught me all I know.“

After you had spoken Arthur just kept on looking at you for a while, his lips tightened and eyebrows furrowed.

„I see.“, he then muttered and didn’t press any further. 

It was like he had sensed that this was a sensitive topic for you.

Quietness engulfed the both of you again and you now began to look around for traces of animals since you both were nearing that spot Charles had told Arthur about.

After some time you noticed some dung and tracks in the snow.

„Here. I found something.“, you said and stopped Willow to dismount. „We should continue by foot.“

Arthur was with you seconds later and his gaze wandered over your findings.

„Must be some deer.“, he guessed and you nodded.

„Yeah, I’m pretty sure it is. They must’ve been here recently. Come on, let’s follow the tracks.“

You slowly began to move and Arthur followed right behind you. The snow crunched underneath your boots as you made your way through some trees and soon enough you spotted two does in the distance. Your steps halternd and you gave Arthur a sign to slow down as well.

„There.“, you whispered and pointed towards the animals. „Let’s get a bit closer. Be quiet.“

„Sure.“, he answered in a hushed voice and you both sneaked on.

This time you stopped him by his shoulder when you thought the distance was small enough. He had nearly been a bit too eager to get closer to the wildlife.

„That’s enough.“, you mumbled. „We‘ll scare them away if we get any closer.“

Arthur cocked an eyebrow as he turned his gaze to you.

„If you say so.“, he said, not really sounding like he believed your words.

Of course, he had a bit of hunting experience, and since the does still hadn’t noticed you he would’ve gone a bit farther. Just then the two animals looked up and he fell silent immediately.

„No word.“, you whispered. „You get the right one, I’ll take out the left one.“

You slowly pulled the rifle from your back and aimed for your target, movements calm and precise so as not to scare them away. Arthur did the same and you breathed out deeply before looking at him.

„On three.“, you muttered. „One.“

The both of you turned your gazes back towards the deer.

„Two.“

Your finger began to close in on the trigger.

„Three.“

Two gunshots rang through the air as you breathed out and you held the position until you could confirm that the both of you had managed to kill your prey.

„Would you look at that.“, Arthur seemed pretty satisfied with the outcome and rose to his full height as hung the rifle over his back again.

„We did it.“, you nodded and walked up to the dead animals with him.

„I gotta say.“, he began to speak as he kneeled next to the doe he had shot. „I was a bit skeptical about your abilities at first but I guess you proved me wrong.“

His gaze met yours.

„You did good.“, he added.

There was a barely noticeable smile on his lips and you felt some blush creep into your cheeks.

„T-Thanks, I guess.“, you said and cleared your throat. „I’m just glad that everything turned out well. Would’ve been some real trouble if we didn’t catch anything.“

„Right.“, Arthur chuckled and lifted one of the does. „You had quite some pressure on yourself there. But you managed well. Let’s get 'em back to camp now. The sun will set soon.“

You just nodded and Arthur helped you to stow the other deer on your horse after he was done with the one he had shot, then the both of you set off. 

For a while, it was silent until Arthur asked you about your little „adventures“ with your father. You hesitated at first, not quite ready to talk about this still-aching wound but after a few seconds of considering you began to talk. 

The talking lasted quite some time and it somehow did you good to talk about these memories. Every thought about your parents had hurt incredibly after they had been killed during a robbery. But talking to Arthur about your father was relieving, that you couldn’t deny.

After you were done with your stories you both rode in silence again. You were dwelling in the past for a bit, your gaze slowly wandering over the landscape in front of you, then it fell on Arthur who seemed to be a bit in thought as well. With a soft sigh, you averted your eyes from him to your hands that were holding the reigns.

For a few seconds, you just started at them, then you said: „Thanks for the gloves again.“

His eyes met yours and he looked a bit puzzled as if he didn’t get what you had said to him.

„I just wanted to thank you for the gloves once more. My fingers would’ve already frozen off if it weren’t for you.“, you repeated yourself and chuckled. 

A lopsided smile sneaked its way on his lips and he waved it off like the last time.

„'M glad to help. You’re better off with 'em than I was“, he shrugged. 

„Still.“, you insisted. „It’s not your task to look after me but you did nevertheless. I’m grateful for that.“

Now he just looked at you for a bit before he cleared his throat and nodded. He had never been good with people thanking him but you didn’t press it further. You knew he appreciated your words.

It fell silent again and suddenly your horse flinched, making you look at her.

„What is it, girl?“, you looked at Willow who was now tippling around nervously, deep exhales forming vapor from her nostrils.

„Stop.“, Arthur’s stern voice made you face him and he pointed towards the trees next to you.

Your eyes followed the direction and widened when they settled on a bear. It was slowly emerging from some trees. Your heart began to pound faster in your chest and you gripped the reigns tighter.

„Don’t move.“, Arthur whispered and you gulped heavily as you nodded.

Just then the predator noticed the both of you and started to head directly towards you, its steps fastening. Now, Arthur gave you a sign to carefully back away. He reached for the rifle on his back and just when he pointed it at the bear everything happened so fast that you couldn’t react.

Willow whinnied hysterically and the bear let out an angry roar. Immediately your spooked horse started to bolt and you were holding on for dear life as she galloped away with you.

„Shhh, easy girl!“, you tried to calm her down, but it was no use.

The fear had consumed her completely and it was like you were riding a wild beast instead of the calm mare she usually was. 

„Calm down, Willow! It’s okay!“, you spoke or well, shouted at her through the turmoil.

She was directly heading towards a patch of trees and you desperately pulled the reigns to stop her, which only made her climb and finally, you fell. The air was pushed out of your lungs as your back hit the ground hard. You cried out in pain and in the corner of your eye you could see her running away as fast as she could, then she was gone.

„Damn it.“, you murmured and sat up, rubbing your back.

„Y/N!“, you heard Arthur’s shout in the distance and looked behind you. 

He was directly steering towards you on his horse, the bear still hot on his tail and your eyes widened.

„Oh hell no!“, you blurted out and then you began to run. 

As fast as you could you sprinted for that patch of trees, hoping to not end up as that bear‘s dinner, but before you could reach it you were suddenly lifted from the ground. The impact knocked the breath from you again and before you knew it you were sitting in front of Arthur, his arm tightly wrapped around your waist as he ushered his horse to go faster, faster and escape that bear.

„Hold on tight! I’ll get us out of here!“, he assured you as you’re gazes finally met, your eyes staring at him like that deer before you had shot it earlier.

You gulped hard and gave him a slow nod, then you slung your arms around his torso, your eyes peeking over his shoulder as the two of you fled through the slowly falling snowflakes.

Through all the trouble you hadn’t even noticed that it had begun to snow, but now you also felt how the wind increased. Surely another snowstorm was nearing. Just perfect.

Again your eyes fell on the bear. It was slowly falling behind and a few more seconds and even more distance later it finally gave up and headed into the woods.

„It’s gone.“, you breathed out in relief and Arthur slowed down his horse, the grip on your waist loosening.

„Took it long enough.“, he muttered as you leaned back.

Your eyes met his, then they wandered to the tight space between your bodies, noticing how close you were. Immediately blush crept into your cheeks and you cleared your throat, squirming a bit uncomfortably in front of him.

„We need to find Willow.“, you said and averted your gaze from him to scan the landscape for any traces of her.

You had to squint your eyes as the storm had picked up a bit and the sun had begun to set. It would be pitch black soon. Arthur sighed behind you and scooted a bit backwards to give you more space.

„Listen…“, he then said softly. „I know how important that horse is to you, but…we won’t find her right now. Not with those conditions.“ 

He gestured around with his hands and you looked at him, opening your mouth to insist on finding your mare, but he already spoke again.

„It’s hard to lose a horse. Believe me…I know that.“, he tightened his lips. „But I don’t even know where we are right now. We gotta make sure to find our way back to camp first or find some shelter, plus we gotta wait the storm out.“

He now gave you a sorry look.

„But if you ask me. 'M sure your girl will be fine and already waitin' back at Colter for us. She’s clever.“, he then added, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

You chewed on your lip as you listened to him. He was right. You both just would get yourself killed if you looked for Willow right now. 

„Alright.“, you muttered, your shoulders slumping down in defeat. „Let’s try to get back to camp then.“

Arthur hummed and gave your shoulder a gentle pat, then he nodded over his shoulder.

„You wanna change the position? You could sit behind me. 'M sure it’s not that comfortable sittin' on the front of my saddle.“

Immediately you nodded. Your behind did hurt a bit, plus you were nearly sitting on his lap which made you quite nervous. Not that you found Arthur unattractive, but it felt strange with you both never having talked much to each other until this day. A lot had changed now, but it still felt too intimate for your liking.

After your answer, you carefully jumped down from the horse, next, Arthur lent you a hand to help you settle behind him. You sighed in relief when you were finally sat, glad about having your legs on both sides of the animal now and also about a much more comfortable base. 

„Alright, let’s go, boy.“, Arthur clicked his tongue after you had placed your hands on both sides of his waist and ushered his horse on.

As you stomped through the storm the both of you kept an eye out for any familiar structures that would help you remember the way back to Colter but the nastier the weather got and the more the night set in you slowly lost hope.

„Darn it.“, you heard Arthur mumble after what felt like hours.

You were shivering badly behind him, trembling against his back that gave you some shelter from the unforgiving snow that was relentlessly falling on you.

„We need to find some shelter. It’s no use keepin' on searchin' without being able to see clearly.“, Arthur finally spoke up. „Also we gotta warm up or we‘ll freeze to death. I can feel you tremblin' in my bones.“

„S-Sorry.“, you answered a big embarrassed through chattering teeth.

You hadn’t thought that it was that bad.

„'S okay.“, Arthur assured you. „Nothin' to be sorry about.“

With that, he led his horse towards the trees to your right. At least you would have somewhat of a shelter from the snow there. You slowly looked around as you rode deeper into the woods and just then your eyes caught the dark outlining of a building.

„Arthur.“, you muttered weakly, the hypothermia already getting to you.

He grunted in response.

„T-There. A c-cabin.“

You stretched out your trembling hand and pointed in its direction. 

„Well spotted.“, Arthur muttered and immediately steered his horse towards the little house. „Come on. Let’s get you inside.“

He dismounted and hitched his horse, then he helped you from its back. By now you were trembling so bad that you didn’t have the strength to do it yourself anymore. Gently he reached for your waist and pulled you down, his hand rubbing your back when you finally stood next to him.

„Get in, I’m right behind you.“

Arthur held the door open for you and you gave him a weak but thankful smile before you entered the cabin. It was small. A single bed stood in the right corner, a fireplace right next to it. Not far from the bed was a small table with two chairs and to the left of the entrance you could see an old stove with a cabinet. It all seemed to be abandoned for a while now.

„I’ll start a fire.“, Arthur said after he had closed the door behind you, finally stopping the merciless assault of the cold wind and snow. „Here, eat this. You need to get some energy.“

He reached into his satchel and pulled a tin of salted offal from it. You scrunched your face in disgust as you took it from him, which made him chuckle.

„I know it ain’t exactly what you would prefer right now, but that’s all I have. Pearson gave it to me before we set out.“, he patted your back, then he went to grab some firewood from the stack next to the fireplace, but stopped in his tracks. „Unless you want some deer meat. It’s still stowed on my horse.“

Arthur looked back at you and you sighed before shaking your head.

„I-It’s fine. You’ve been cold long enough, too.“, you said. „I’ll survive…e-even if it means that I have to eat…this.“

You opened the tin with your shaking hands and gave the contents a sniff, which turned out to be a bad mistake. Immediately you had to gag and put the tin down on the table.

„Let me correct myself.“, you muttered sourly. „I’d rather starve than eat this.“

A grin made its way on Arthur’s lips as he watched you and finally, he shook his head. 

„Not under my watch. I’ll get us some meat. I gotta eat too and to be honest…nothing will get me to eat that stuff.“, he said and grabbed his hunting knife before he opened the door to head outside again.

„Arthur…“, you protested, but he was already gone, the door closing with a harsh thump.

You softly exhaled and sat down on the chair as you waited for him. Despite your objection, you were thankful that he was getting the both of you some real food.

Just minutes after he finally returned a big chunk of meat in his hand. He had wrapped it in a cloth and handed it to you.

„Hold onto this while I take care of the fire.“, he said and you nodded, then he finally went back to get some wood.

Soon it crackled inside the fireplace as the flames danced around and the both of you sat down in front of it, eager to catch some warmth. The cabin was still pretty cold, but you hoped it would get better now that you had ignited a fire.

„Now for our dinner.“, Arthur looked at you and you gave him the wrapped meat, which he quickly unpacked and diced. 

„I reckon it’ll be faster to grill it over the fire instead of heating the stove for it.“, he muttered as he sliced the meat into thinner pieces.

„Sounds good to me.“, you nodded and watched him skewer a piece of meat onto his hunting knife, then he handed it to you and pulled out another knife to use for himself. „Thank you.“

You scooted a bit closer to the fire and held out your hand with the knife to slowly grill the meat. It only took a few minutes and during this time you warmed up immensely from being so close to the fire. A comfortable sigh left your lips after you took a bite and Arthur’s gaze fell on you.

„Feelin' better?“

„Yeah.“, you gave him a little smile as you chewed on your food. „'M glad we found this cabin.“

„Me, too.“, he agreed and pulled his knife back to eye his dinner.

When he was sure it was all cooked through he bit off a piece.

„You know.“, he mumbled while chewing. „I was gettin' real worried about you. You could’ve gone hypothermic, hell, I think you were pretty close, but luckily you still managed to spot this hut.“

„Mhm…“, you hummed softly. „'M still pretty surprised about it, too.“

You chuckled and he gave you a smile after biting off another chunk of meat.

„Well, it probably saved our lives.“, he then said. „Let’s hope the storm calms down overnight. We still gotta make sure to get the rest of that deer to camp tomorrow or else people really will begin starvin'.“

„Right.“, now you sighed and your thoughts wandered to your horse. „Maybe Willow managed to get back. Last I’ve seen, she still had that deer stowed on her back.“

You hoped your words were true. Willow had been your trusty mare ever since you had been on your own and you couldn’t imagine losing her. But Arthur was right. She was a clever girl so it wasn’t that far-fetched that she might already be waiting for you by the time you would arrive back home tomorrow.

„It’s a good thought.“, Arthur murmured and looked at you. „Your girl will be alright. I’m sure of it.“

It was like he had sensed your worries and he patted your shoulder before standing up.

„We should call it a night…regain some energy. We might need it tomorrow.“, he said and nodded towards the bed. „You take this, I’ll sleep on the floor.“

„Thank you.“, your gaze followed him as he went to fetch his bedroll from his horse.

As the door opened you could see that the storm was still raging outside and sighed softly.

Who could’ve known that this day would end like this? Your horse gone and you and Arthur in this cabin, stuck for however long this weather would continue.

You rose to your feet now, too, and walked over to the bed, sitting down on the squeaky bed frame. It wasn’t exactly comfortable but it was surely better than sleeping on the floor. You were really thankful that Arthur was such a gentleman.

Soon he returned and set up his bedroll in front of the fireplace before he grabbed another piece of wood to keep the fire going.

„That’s the last one.“, he sighed. „Let’s just hope we sleep through. It’ll surely cool down fast after the fire is out.“

You hummed in response and watched the flames consume the log for a while, then you looked at Arthur who was getting comfortable on his bedroll.

„Thanks again for leaving the bed to me.“, you said and your eyes met.

„Don’t mention it.“, he waved it off and held the eye contact for a few seconds before he turned his back to you. „Can’t have a lady sleepin' on the floor.“

His answer made you smile softly and you finally laid down, tugging the old blanket over your body.

„Good night, Arthur.“, with those words you closed your eyes.

„Good night.“, you heard him mumble back and only seconds later you were gone, no wonder, the day had really drained you.

~~~

You were awoken by the howling of the wind sneaking its way through the old cabin. Next, you noticed how badly you were shivering again and looked over to the fireplace that seemed to have gone out long ago.

„Damn it.“, you muttered quietly and pulled the blanket tighter around you. 

It was riddled with holes so it didn’t really help much and you sighed discontentedly. So much for your hopes of sleeping through.

Your eyes met Arthur’s sleeping form. He must’ve turned during the night because he was facing you again. His facial expression seemed tense and he also trembled barely noticeable. As you kept on watching him you couldn’t help but be thankful that you hadn’t gotten separated by that bear, it was already bad enough that Willow had run away.

„Do I have somethin' on my face or why you starin' at me?“, Arthur suddenly mumbled and his eyes opened.

You flinched a bit and immediately averted your gaze from him as a blush crept into your cheeks.

„S-Sorry, didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. Didn’t know you were awake, too.“, you apologized and he chuckled softly.

„'S okay.“, he said. „You alright?“

His eyes wandered over your shivering body.

„Yeah.“, you nodded with a sigh. „It’s just pretty darn cold.“

„Mhm, tell me about it.“, Arthur grinned with a pained expression. „Maybe I should look for some wood outside, get that fire goin' again.“

He sat up but you stopped him.

„You really wanna go out in that storm? It’s even worse than when we went to sleep.“, you frowned and he shrugged.

„We need to warm up.“, he said. „Neither us will go back to sleep while shakin' like a leaf.“

You bit your lip and watched him stand up to walk over to the door. He even struggled to open it due to how much snow had piled up in front of it and how strong the wind was. At that moment you pitied his horse who had to stay outside but luckily the cabin had a little covered outside area where Arthur had hitched it so it was at least protected from the snow.

Arthur peeked outside for a moment, then he closed the door again and shook his head.

„Maybe you’re right.“, he said with a soft chuckle and laid back down on his bedroll. „Let’s…let’s just try to get some more rest. Ain’t got any other options, I guess.“

His eyes met yours and you nodded, still huddled up under that blanket. Somehow you both just kept on looking at each other and it seemed like he was pondering.

„You know…“, he mumbled after a while. „I know it…might be an absurd idea…but…we could share that bed. Sharing our remaining body heat could help us both warm up.“

He fell silent, waiting for your answer.

„Only if you're comfortable with it…I know we ain’t exactly close.“, he added.

His words made your heart rate pick up immediately. It had been quite some time since you had last shared your bed with a man. Though it hadn’t been just for sleeping.

„I…“, you began and cleared your throat. „Uh…yeah. That’s okay with me.“

Arthur sat up and cocked an eyebrow.

„You sure?“

You looked at him as he stood up and chewed on your lip, then you nodded.

„Y-Yeah.“

„Alright.“, Arthur came closer and you scooted over to make some place for him. 

He lifted the blanket and slipped under it while you turned your back to him, suddenly nervous. You felt him settle behind you and after a few seconds, his arm hesitantly sneaked around your waist, pulling you closer to him. You gulped hard but you couldn’t deny that you already felt less colder.

„That okay?“, he whispered and you nodded.

„Yeah.“

It fell silent and you closed your eyes, trying to finally fall back asleep and also calm yourself down. Your heart was still pounding far too fast inside your chest but a little part of you also liked how this felt. Arthur was an attractive man and now you had also learned that he was really kind, too. First the gloves, then him comforting you about Willow and offering you the bed, and now this.

Slowly you felt yourself calm down but even though you already had warmed up a bit with Arthur’s body right behind yours you couldn’t help but still tremble. You just weren’t made for this kind of region, not with you living most of your life in the hot area of New Austin.

„You’re still shiverin'.“, Arthur seemed to have noticed it, too.

His hand gently brushed up and down your side.

„Y-Yeah. I’m…really not used to this weather.“, you bit your lip, the feeling of his touch somehow making your heart beat faster again.

He hummed as he acknowledged your words and it was quiet for a few seconds before he began to speak.

„I…uh…I heard sharin' body heat works better with…less clothes.“, he seemed to be clearly embarrassed about his own words. „N-Not that I wanna do…uh…things with you…I just…“

He fell silent, fumbling hard with his words.

„Oh.“, you just managed to say and you blushed hard.

It was uncomfortable how awfully quiet it had gotten now apart from the raging storm, but after some time you nodded. You trusted him, that you had learned today, and you knew that he wouldn’t take advantage of you.

„Alright then.“, you finally answered and sat up.

You didn’t look at him but you could feel his surprised gaze on you before he turned away and began to undo his coat. After discarding your own one you pulled your woolen topper over your head. You hesitated as you reached for the blouse you were wearing under it. It would be the last item of clothing before your torso would be only clad in your undergarments. With a deep breath, you finally discarded it and quickly shimmied your pants off, then you pulled the blanket over your body again, now only dressed in your underwear. From the corner of your eye, you could see that Arthur had stripped down to his union suit and unbuttoned the top part before slipping out of the sleeves so he was bare-chested. Next, he faced you again and your eyes met, you blushing even harder, but you also noticed some faint redness on his cheeks.

„Uh…just…just turn around again.“, he mumbled and broke the eye contact, waiting for you to follow his order.

You quickly did and his hand gently touched your naked skin as he put his arm around your waist, making your breath hitch in your throat. Nervously you chewed on your lip as he scooted closer to you, his chest flush against your back and you could hear him gulp hard.

„J-Just tell me if anythin' makes you uncomfortable, alright?“, he then said.

You could just nod, your voice stuck inside your throat all of a sudden. After another shaky breath, you closed your eyes and it went silent, making you more well aware of everything that was happening. Your heart was pounding fast inside your chest, just like his against your back. Nervous inhales and exhales filled the silence and the touching of your skin made your mind race.

Why the hell was Arthur lying with you making you feel like this? It wasn’t even like anything more than that would happen.

Again you began to chew on your lip and even though the shaking of your body slowly subsided you just couldn’t seem to get some rest. His breath against your neck, his hand on your stomach, his body spooning yours…it was enough to make your thoughts wander, wander further than you had ever thought it would.

How would his lips feel? What would it feel like to be his, your body under his as he slowly pushes his-

You stopped your thoughts there, heavily blushing as you sighed shakily.

Why the hell were you having these thoughts right now? You barely knew him.

„You okay?“, Arthur suddenly asked.

„S-Sure.“, you nodded immediately, trying to not let those sinful thoughts get to you.

���We can…stop if it’s too uncomfortable for you.“, he suddenly said and you looked at him over your shoulder, your gaze meeting his. „I know it must be real strange doing this with a feller you barely know.“

He averted his gaze from you, his hand retreating from your waist, which made you turn around to him.

„It’s…it’s not that.“, you tried to assure him and his blue eyes met yours again. „It’s just…unfamiliar, but I’m not uncomfortable.“

Your voice was barely a whisper. His face was only inches away from yours which you didn’t realize right away, but when his hand settled on your skin again you suddenly became well aware.

„You sure?“, he muttered and licked his lower lip.

Slowly you nodded, not breaking the eye contact and his hand wandered higher to rest against your cheek.

„Me, too.“, he whispered. „'S like…I can’t manage to calm my thoughts around you.“

Now his gaze fell onto your lips.

„Why the hell can’t I stop thinkin' about ya?“

His face came closer to yours and he stopped just before his mouth could meet your own.

You breathed out shakily.

„'S not just you.“, you mumbled, your eyes meeting his one last time before you leaned in to close the gap.

Your lips met in a hesitant kiss and he softly groaned against your mouth, then he pulled you closer into him, kissing you with more intent, and gods did it feel good. You didn’t even know why you had craved this so much but it was unlike any other kiss you had had before. 

„What are you doin' to me?“, Arthur muttered against your lips and began to leave little pecks on your jawline, trailing down to your neck.

You exhaled softly and your body automatically arched against his as the kisses became more open-mouthed and sloppy, making more and more want flood your body.

„A-Arthur…“, you whined.

„Please tell me you want me.“, he muttered against your skin, his voice desperate.

You nodded as he then looked up at you.

„Want all of you.“, you whispered and he smiled in relief before he kissed you gently.

„Would’ve never thought that we’d end up like this, but I ain’t complaining.“, he gave your waist a squeeze and you chuckled softly against his lips. 

His kisses became more urgent then and his tongue sneaked its way into your mouth, meeting yours gently at first. Before you knew it you both were panting against each other as the kiss turned heated and sloppy, all tongues and teeth. During this he moved on top of you, settling between your thighs, and began to grind against you, making you feel how hard he was for you.

„P-Please…“, you whimpered weakly into the kiss and he chuckled before he looked at you with lust-filled eyes.

„Oh, I know what you need, darlin'.“, he assured you and leaned in again to trail kisses from your neck to your cleavage. „Let’s get this off of you.“

His hands grabbed the bottom of your chemise and slowly pulled it up, revealing your breasts to him and he groaned softly.

„Look at ya…so pretty.“, he mumbled, then his head dipped so he could wrap his lips around one of your nipples, while his hand gently massaged your other breast.

A quiet moan escaped you and you buried your fingers in his hair, tugging at the strands a bit. With a pop he released your nipple to take care of the other one, making his way to it with hot kisses and you squirmed under him impatiently.

„Hold still, darlin'.“, he muttered against your naked skin, his darkened eyes meeting yours shortly. „Gotta get you warmed up for me first.“

A huff left your lips and he chuckled, then he finally descended lower, his mouth grazing over your ribs, and your navel until his teeth nipped on the hem of your bloomers and you somehow couldn’t help but feel nervous all of a sudden.

Arthur seemed to notice it.

„You shiverin' 'cause you’re cold or what’s wrong?“, he asked and sat up, his hands gently caressing your sides in a calming way.

You sighed softly

„It‘s just…been a while since I last laid with a man.“, you then muttered.

He hummed in response and leaned down to give you a gentle kiss on the forehead.

„'S all okay, darlin'.“, he reassured you. „I’ll take good care of ya. You just relax and enjoy it.“

Arthur gave you a lingering peck on the cheek, then his lips connected with yours again in a sweet but also needy kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth and making you yearn for more. His hand gave your hip a gentle squeeze as he continued to move his lips against yours, then he sneaked his fingers along your thigh and finally to your aching center. You whined against his mouth when he slowly drew circles on your sensitive flesh.

„That’s it.“, Arthur whispered when you spread your legs more for him, eager to get more of that addictive feeling.

He put a bit more pressure into his touch and continued with this for a few more seconds before he sat up again, you following his lips with a whine, not ready to part from him yet.

„Don’t ya worry, I’ll make you feel even better in a bit.“, he said with a smile, his hand against your cheek before he leaned in and gave you a peck, then his fingers hooked into the sides of your bloomers. „Just need to take these off.“

With that Arthur pulled and you leaned back with a soft sigh, lifting your hips to help him undress you. When he was done his eyes wandered over your naked body in awe and his hand gently traced your curves.

„Such a pretty girl.“, he muttered and dipped his head down to meet the skin under your navel, making you gasp softly as he came closer to where you needed him.

„Please, Arthur.“, you whispered, arching into him, desperate to feel him.

„Patience, darlin'.“, he smirked at you and skipped your glistening heat to kiss the inside of your thighs before he hooked your legs over his strong shoulders.

Your heartbeat quickened and you bit your lip as you watched him slowly kiss his way closer and closer to your folds and just when you were about to beg once more he finally licked a long strip through them, making you moan in surprise. You grabbed into the mattress underneath you as your body grew weak and your eyes rolled back.

„Oh god.“, you whispered and Arthur began to circle his tongue around your little bundle of nerves, his fingers gently caressing your thighs during this.

Again a soft moan escaped you and he hummed in encouragement, his hands spreading you more open to him as he moved his tongue against you harder, faster, intent to get you to that point of no return. Once more your hands found their way into his hair and then you couldn’t help but moan louder, freely, while he smiled against you.

„You sound so fuckin' pretty.“, he muttered against your sex and you blushed hard, but didn’t hold back either.

Instead, you began to grind your cunt into his mouth, desperate to feel more, get there, because Jesus, without much effort he already had you nearly over the edge.

Your eyes met his, face flushed and eyes sparkling at you with lust, then he buried himself even deeper into your heat, like a man starved, ready to devour you whole.

A sound of both surprise and pleasure left your lips and your head thumped back into the pillow, deep breaths coming out of your mouth as you whisper his name like a mantra.

„Come on, darlin'.“, Arthur whispered. „Let go for me.“

His tongue rolled over your clit, again and again, assaulting it sweetly and then he finally had you. Your mouth fell open in a silent scream as your body convulsed and bucked into him, the waves of pleasure crashing in harshly.

„That’s it.“, you heard him mumble through the ecstasy, his eyes watching as he pushed you over the edge.

When your breathing had calmed down a bit Arthur gently pushed your legs off his shoulders and leaned in to press his lips against yours. You tasted yourself on his tongue, tangy, a bit salty, and sweet.

„Need to work ya open a bit more.“, he then muttered against your mouth, his hand slipping between your thighs, cupping your cunt before you could even answer.

Instead, you mewled into him, breath hitching in your throat as his fingers slowly brushed through your wetness, once, twice, before he teased at your opening and gently pushed them inside. There was no resistance as his fingers sank into you and your jaw grew slack, a helpless sound leaving your lips.

„Taking me so well.“, Arthur praised, his lips tracing open-mouthed kisses along your jaw now.

Gently he began to pump his fingers into you, gliding in and out so easily that it almost made you embarrassed. No man had ever made you feel like this. Your pussy squelched around him and he groaned deeply at the sound of it, adding a third finger that made you gasp because the stretch ached. Not painfully, but so deliciously that your legs began to shake.

„A-Arthur.“, you choked out and he shushed you softly, connecting his lips with yours again and you whimpered desperately as his movements became faster.

„Almost there, darlin'.“, he whispered against you. 

You felt the addicting burn inside your belly again and you knew it won’t be long until he would make you reach another high, but just then, just when you were nearly there his fingers slowed down and he pulled them from your slick cunt. A protesting cry left your lips.

„Shh. Just needed to make sure you’re ready for me.“, he quieted you, before giving you a gentle kiss.

You reciprocated it eagerly and Arthur began to undo the last few buttons of his union suit before pushing it down. Next, he broke the kiss and sat up so he could get rid of it completely. You’re eyes fell onto his erect member and now you finally understood why he had been so intent on working you open first. He was really big. He smirked at you as he settled between your thighs again.

„You think you’re ready for me?“, he asked and you gulped hard, but nodded nevertheless.

You needed him badly.

„Alright.“, Arthur whispered, leaning in to press his lips against yours.

Your hands sneaked around his back as he began to grind against you, his cock brushing through your folds to collect some wetness a few times. It rubbed against your sensitive bundle of nerves during this and you whimpered against his mouth, your fingernails digging into his skin and he hissed softly.

„Getting impatient there, darlin'?“, he asked with a chuckle and you nodded. „Well…then…“

He changed the angle slightly and his tip caught on your entrance. Unintentionally you held your breath and looked down between your bodies to watch as he then slowly sank into you. He wasn’t even halfway in when a loud mewl escaped your lips.

„You alright?“, Arthur stopped immediately, his hand finding its way to your cheek.

„Y-Yeah, j-just…ah…“, you were fumbling with your words, mind a blurry mess. „You f-feel so good.“

Through hooded eyes, you met his and he smiled softly, leaning down to catch your lips in a sweet kiss.

„Oh trust me, darlin', you feel just as fantastic.“, he then whispered, lips trailing to your jawline and neck. „So damn perfect.“

And with that, he pushed deeper, your mouth falling open as more and more inches sank into you until he filled you up completely. Soft pants from both of you broke the silence and he nuzzled into the nape of your neck, his soft hair tickling your face slightly as he let you accustom to his size.

„Just tell me when I can move.“, he muttered against your skin which was now covered with a thin layer of sweat.

You nodded slowly and let yourself just feel him for a few seconds, how good he felt even though it was nearly too much.

„Ar-Arthur…please.“, you whimpered then, your hips pressing against his impatiently.

He groaned softly, his mouth trailing back to yours and finally he began to move. Gently he retreated before he ground his length into you again, making you gasp in pleasure, eyes rolling back while your fingers gripped onto his back for dear life.

„That’s it, darlin'.“, he murmured and repeated it one more time, his cock pulling out of your weeping cunt slowly before he pushed back in.

The stretch was so delicious, that you couldn’t help but moan his name and let your legs fall more open, inviting him in like an old friend. 

„Just like that.“, Arthur praised you immediately, his lips barely touching yours during this, before he connected them and let his tongue slip inside.

With a soft whine you met him, the kiss turning more eager as his gentle rhythm sped up just a notch. He ground his hips against you with purpose, cock rubbing against that special spot inside of you just right and you had to turn your head to the side, gasping for air. It was like there wasn’t enough of it all of a sudden. All you could consume was him and Christ did it make you dizzy, dizzy from all the pleasure you were feeling.

You hadn’t expected anything to happen today but you sure as hell would’ve never expected this.

Again you whined his name and he gently grabbed your face to turn it back to him, dark blue eyes meeting yours.

„Look at you, so beautiful for me, darlin‘.“, he whispered and one of his hands slipped between your bodies, sneaking its way to your clit to rub it gently.

„O-Oh!“, you moaned.

You were rushing towards the edge again with an immense speed and you began to meet his thrusts that were becoming faster and harder by the minute. Arthur smirked as he watched you.

„Gonna make you feel real good.“, he muttered and a sudden deep and especially hard push made you yelp, but Christ did it feel good.

„A-Again.“, you managed to choke out and he obeyed, hips slamming into you hard and with purpose.

The sweet ache between your thighs was almost unbearable now and you knew it wouldn’t be much longer now. You clenched around him, barely managing to keep yourself from falling over the edge and he groaned loudly.

„Come on, darlin'.“, he panted and his fingers circled around your clit faster, almost abusing it, but that was just what you needed.

He was fucking you so good in that moment, you couldn’t help it anymore and finally you came, crying out his name as your body shook, tensing up from the violent orgasm you were experiencing.

„Such a good girl.“, he praised you and his lips found yours, muffling the sweet sounds that came out of your mouth, his hips not stopping with their movements.

It was getting too much and you whined, squirming under him, but the way his lips moved against yours, tongue licking into you made you forget the pain fast, turning it into pleasure once more. 

„Arthur…“, you muttered and his hand caressed your cheek reassuringly.

„You alright there?“, he asked after leaning back just a bit to look at you.

His cock was still trusting into you, now a bit slower and more gentle. You managed to hum in response and he smiled softly.

„Good.“, his lips connected with yours again in a quick peck. „Think you can do it a second time?“

Your mind was all blurry and foggy so it took you a moment to get the meaning of his words, but then you nodded slowly. Right now you would give him everything.

„That’s my girl.“, he whispered and with that he was back at it, his thrust getting faster again, pulling a high-pitched moan from you.

Arthur ground into you hard and deep, but it felt like it still wasn’t all he was capable of and the more the delicious ache between your thighs intensified the more you were craving all of him.

„Don’t hold back.“, you whined into the nape of his neck. „Please.“

In a moment of surprise, he stopped and you cried in protest.

„You sure, darlin'?“, he sat up now, his brows furrowed a bit.

„Please.“, you nodded and stretched your hands out for him, desperate to be closer to him, even closer than just being connected.

He groaned softly at how you were looking at him and it was all it took to persuade him. His lips collided with yours as he finally continued to thrust and you gasped. His pace was unforgiving, skin slapping against skin hard, and when he pushed even deeper you moaned loudly, fingernails digging into his skin, tearing him open as he nearly split you into two.

„Aah-Arthur!“, you cried into his mouth and he grunted, tongue forcing its way between your lips and you knew he was a goner.

His rhythm was getting sloppy, hips just slamming into you like he was desperately looking for something. The bed was creaking under your bodies in protest but right now neither of you cared for that, right now it was just a race to get to that sweet release and before you knew it you came hard around his length. Your pussy clenched around him tightly, his thrusts stuttering and he was barely able to pull out of you when his hot spend already burst onto your stomach.

Heaving he sat in front of you, chest rising and falling rapidly while his eyes were faced to the ceiling like he was praying to god, then he breathed out deeply and he nearly collapsed on top of you.

„Goddamn, woman.“, he panted into the crook of your neck. „You nearly killed me there.“

His words let a laugh bubble from your throat and you gently caressed through his hair with your fingers. 

„Sorry.“, you giggled and pressed a kiss to his temple.

He lifted himself with his arms, eyes meeting yours and a lopsided smirk was displayed on his lips before he pressed them against yours.

„Don’t you ever apologize for that again, darlin'.“, he muttered.

His hand cradled your cheek sweetly and he sat up again to finally clean you both up a bit with the blanket, then he laid down next to you and pulled you against him. Silence engulfed the both of you and you hummed softly, your legs shaking a bit from how intense everything had been.

„Don’t tell me you’re still cold.“, Arthur looked at you with a lifted eyebrow and you chuckled while shaking your head.

„No, not anymore.“, you said. „You warmed me up quite a bit.“

He smirked softly.

„Good.“

It went quiet again, the silence only punctuated by your soft breaths and the howling of the storm outside. It must’ve been minutes until you decided to speak again.

„To be honest…I didn’t really expect this when we agreed to share the bed.“, you muttered and your gazes met.

„Me neither.“, Arthur nodded slightly and chewed on his lip. „You…don’t regret it…do you?“

His eyes looked you up and down with a hint of worry behind them.

„Absolutely not.“, you reassured him softly. „It was just surprising…that’s all.“

„Yeah.“, he nodded. „I get what you mean. We didn’t speak much until we went huntin' and now…“

He didn’t have to end the sentence. Both of you knew what he was implying.

„Right.“, you murmured. „Well, didn’t know what to think of you but…turns out you’re quite nice.“

Your words made him laugh and he pressed a kiss to your temple.

„Quite nice, huh? Now that’s somethin'.“, he whispered against your skin. „You know…when we finally leave that damn town Colter…maybe we could go out for a ride…spend the day somewhere nice. What do you say?“

Arthur leaned back so he could look at you. A smile made its way to your lips.

„Sounds good to me.“, you agreed and he breathed out softly, like he had been holding it in.

„Then we have a deal.“, he nodded and pulled the blanket over your bodies. „Now…let’s try to get some sleep until the mornin'. We still have a bit of a journey ahead of us tomorrow.“

„Yeah.“, you hummed softly and leaned your head against his shoulder. „Good night, Arthur.“

You closed your eyes, his body engulfing you comfortably. It would surely warm you through the night.

„Good night, darlin'.“

[frozen-waters]

the thing that I struggle with the most when I write fanfiction for rdr is figuring out where everything would go geographically. like oh! I can replace Louisiana. no not really. I can squeeze some of New Austin in to Texas. actually no. how far away would Blackwater be from Canada? who knows.

[scarfacemarston]

I love Rdr2 with all my heart but when i play it i don’t have that “wild west” feeling because of the setting. With Rdr you really get that western vibe because the whole game is set around New Austin, West Elizabeth and Mexico which really give off that western feel to the game. It sucks because when you finally unlock that region of the map in Rdr2 there’s practically no content there so it just feels empty. If the rumours about the remaster/remake are true i will be so excited because Rdr was my entire childhood 😭❤️ I still remember spending my entire days in the house in the living room and playing Rdr on my brothers Xbox 360 😂

LONG post ahead because I'm obsessed with Rdr 1. You described my feelings perfectly! People don't realize that Red Dead 1 is a true Western. It (as you probably already know) is based on the Spaghetti Westerns. For those who don't know, those are the films with Sam Elliot, John Wayne, Clint Eastwood, Paul Newman, Robert Redford, etc. You all may have heard of The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. If not, I guarantee a lot of you have heard the theme and not known it. Here it is. It's also where the third pointed guns come from. (I think) Yeah, people don't realize that the game is lonely on purpose. This game takes place when ALL the outlaws are dead except for a few - and that John (Who retired), Javier (Who seems to not really be doing too many outlaw things at the time.), Bill (who is being a full-on evil bastard of an outlaw.) and of course, Dutch. Spaghetti Westerns are meant to show men with gruff exteriors, but good hearts. It's a shame that people won't try it out and, in my opinion - complain too much it's not like RDR 2 and not anything Arthur related, or the graphics suck. Like, really, people? I love rdr 1, and I actually like the game better than rdr 2. I love the missions, and the soundtrack is amazing. (Rdr 2 has an AWESOME soundtrack, too, but it's just different.) The side characters are just hilarious, and there are some truly heartbreaking moments to balance it out. I cried so much when John was finally able to return home and then the end, of course. It was brutal. It was the first time I ever cried over a character in a video game. I truly like Arthur, but I really like John better, and I wish Rdr 2 didn't do him so dirty. I understand he is younger and was an ass- but they really didn't do much with him. : / It's caused the fandom to think of him as the laughing stock when lots of magazines at the time voted him as one of the best-written video game characters of all time. (This was before rdr 2, of course.) John's voice then was just...excuse me while I thirst. It was different than it was in rdr 2 as you know. So yeah, you really know how to make me blab. lol

[faeriebabee]

playing rdr. tracking down a bounty when a cougar jumps on my horse and i am launched the ground. i stumble around, blood dripping into my vision, shooting wildly in a panic as the cougar begins to circle back on me. mere seconds from death, i manage to kill the cougar. i skin it and whistle for my horse. no response. i walk back to where i fell out of the saddle. she's fuckkng dead. the horse distribution system does not work like rdr2. i must wait awhile before a new horse can be generated. i sigh and start trekking back to armadillo, maybe i'll find a horse i can steal. at the very least i'll become more familiar with the area. i hear barking. strange. i don't see any coyotes. hmm. anyway. i wonder if you can tame wild hors-- THERE IS A WOLF ON MY ASS! THERE IS A WOLF ON MY ASS AND I CAN'T THROW IT OFF TO SHOOT! I REFUSE TO DI--FUCK FUCKINGB FUCK!!! A COUGAR?? A SECOND FUCKING COUGAR??!! I AM STUCK IN THE WORLD'S GORIEST THREESOME AS THE WOLF MAKES A CHEWTOY OF MY BACK AND THE COUGAR LUNGES FOR MY THROAT

i don't remember how i got out of that alive, i really don't. for all i know, the damn devils simply despawned as i was thrashing between them. what i do know is that i am currently sitting in the hostile new austin desert with low health, 20 bullets, and no horse. and i am so, so afraid.

[vanderlindevendetta]

I'm trying not to get my hopes up that it's going to be a thing and it'll be good. But what if??

I know we're all worried about a repeat of The Trilogy happening. From the graphics to the original versions being taken down, it was a bad time. Especially since GTA SA, III, and Vice were classics.

For a potential Red Dead Redemption remaster, there are a few things I want to know (most of which TheNathanNS brought up as well). Aside from the obvious question about the quality of the remaster, what all will this include? Is any content (such as missions or dialogue) going to be removed? Are they also going to be remastering Undead Nightmare as well -- and if so, is it going to be bundled into the game or as DLC (especially considering how GTA online and RDR2 online are)? Are they going to expland it to include places, items, mechanics, etc from RDR2?

Personally, the most important thing I want preserved is the vibe of New Austin. I'm from Nevada, and places in the game (like Armadillo) are close to my heart because they nail the atmosphere of a desert in the west. Imo, that vibe was missing with the New Austin area in RDR2, but I think it was understandable since it wasn't the narrative focus, like in RDR.

Obviously, it hasn't been confirmed yet. But if it happens, I'm going to be following the news and reviews before considering to buy a copy.

[prairiemule]

Yeehawgust 2021, Day 17 - Sierra Madre

[solari-writes-things]

Tack on a Charles SFW alphabet, 4 lil ol me

✨ Solari Says: OHHHH MY GOD FINALLY, OF COURSE IT'D BE YOU WHO REQUESTS CHARLES AND I WILL GLADLY OBLIGE.

🛑 WARNINGS: Minor mentions of time-period racism. 🛑

gif credit: to the OP.

MORE CHARLES | MORE RDR | > MASTERLIST < |

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Charles Smith is a hard man to get large amounts of affection out of in public. It's mostly due to his mixed heritage, and he wouldn't want you to be subjected to the backlash of being seen romantically with him--whether you fought against that notion or not. But in private, he would make you little gifts and spend a lot of time with you in nature. Going hunting, giving you beadwork to keep, a lot of little things come with Charles and his form of affection. And all those little things mean so much to him.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

Having Charles at your back means you constantly have someone to keep your head on straight. He's a rational man, to put it simply, and he wouldn't want you doing things that would easily put your life at risk. If someone were to come up and insult you, he would be the first to size up and be ready to fight should it come down to it. The friendship would have began pretty one-sided, unless he found you interesting.

If you were a recruited into the Van der Linde gang, he would be a bit distant at first. He would see if you could handle yourself, what you could bring to the circle, and would be willing to speak with you once you have proven yourself to the others. If you were not, you probably ran into him while he was on a hunt. Targeting the same kill, maybe got into a conversation about your horses after you settled the dispute on who the kill belongs to.

Regardless, a friendship with him is one of the ages.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

Charles is very used to moving, so having something stationary like cuddles is a little foreign to him. However, he does not reject the idea. Leaning your head on his shoulder or having his arms wrapped around you seems to do the trick, as long as he could feel your presence when it happens. He finds it much more relaxing later down the line, when he realizes that having you there means that there is nothing to worry about.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Settling down for Charles is something that he does not expect to happen. He feels that his history would make it extremely hard, and the fact that he feels the gang isn't a place to raise children. However, once the gang dissolves, having a family isn't quite so impossible anymore. In fact, there's a chance that he was inspired by the work that he did to help John, and would possibly want to take that sort of step himself.

Charles isn't a terrible cook. He knows what he needs to make to survive, and he can make it well. But if you ask him to get technical, he may just be a bit more nervous. Charles also likes to keep his space clean, so he's a pretty deep cleaner--as much as his situation would allow.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He isn't a man to shy away from his problems. If he were to break up with his partner, it's in their face and straight to the point. He'll even clarify why, because he wants to ensure that his partner has some form of closure--it's the least he could do in a chaotic world such as New Austin.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

The idea of commitment isn't what scares Charles, it's the aftermath of once people learn of who he's committed to. People aren't friendly towards him to begin with, and he doesn't want to find out what would happen to the one he holds dear. That being said, marriage is definitely something that is not happening right away. He needs to feel secure, and that isn't very often with him.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

Despite his brash and forward nature, Charles is actually quite gentle to those he considers dear. The way he touches, the way he speaks, all of it is dialed down a bit because he wants to take your feelings and comforts into consideration.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

Charles does not like hugs from other people aside from his partner. If someone tried to hug him from the gang, he'd stare at them like they were absolutely crazy. He probably wouldn't even return it, unless it was someone like Arthur. But for his partner? He would hug during intimate conversations, and be the one to initiate it.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

Charles would not be quick with it. His love is earned, slowly. He has to see you doing things that validate his feelings, that ensure that what he holds for you is true. Charles has to convince himself of a lot of things, and holding those feelings for someone is one of the biggest ones.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

Not jealous at all. He takes everything in stride.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

His kisses are either soft and sweet or hard and passionate, depends on the context. Before a heist, passion is his game. A little alone time? Sweet. He enjoys being kissed on the temple or a little one to his jaw. But he would kiss you anywhere on your face, but the hot spots are on your temple or on top of your head.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

Children love Charles. They love his calming energy, and he's very attentive. He'd even teach them a few things that aren't too outlandish, like how to create basic herbal mixes. Maybe teach them how to make bait, but not take them hunting if he deems it to dangerous.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

They're usually spent up early. He's hunting, making himself some arrows. While he's working on the survival aspect for the both of you, you're tending to him. Making him coffee, food, and making sure that he's comfortable since he's always doing something.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

In his tent or around the campfire. Spending time together in solitude, or reluctantly in the company of others, you two are always together come night time.

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He unfortunately plays cards close to his chest. Opening up to you will be like pulling teeth, but when he finds it in his heart to trust you, he trusts you in full.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

It depends. He has to have some patience in order to deal with the Van der Linde gang to a degree. Anyone can slander him or his name, and he's usually quite unfazed. But should anyone bring your name into things, it's instant.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

Charles has a scary good memory. It will catalogue everything. Things you tell him, things he hears in passing. You can count on him to remember something that you don't, if he was there with you.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

You both decided to take a trip when the gang rode out to Clemens Point. The canoe that Hosea, Dutch, and Arthur took soon belonged to the two of you. You spent the day just... talking. Listening to the calm waters, and the distant songs that the gang sang as the day went on. Soon, you both were bathed by the night, only to be left underneath a blanket of stars reflecting off the surface of the lake. You both lounged in the canoe, unbothered by the world as you drifted off. The tranquility between the two of you, how connected you felt, is why Charles holds the memory dear.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Charles is very protective of you. The gang wants you to do something stupid for their benefit? Someone is putting you in an uncomfortable situation? He's the first to talk it down. He would appreciate any form of protection, just knowing that you care for him--although he doesn't need it.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

Charles likes to say that he doesn't try, because he feels like he doesn't. But there is so much thought into anything that comes out of him, because that's just the kind of man he is.

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

His reclusiveness. His first initial distrust would be an attempt to put you at a distance, but you don't fall for it. You've seen it before. His curt responses and careful side stares are something you don't take to heart, either.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

Not at all, really, but somehow he always looks good. The only thing that he takes special care of is his hair. He makes sure that he has his feathers, accessories, the things that root him to his history that he misses so much.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

There would be a little twinge of him missing you when things begin to spiral, but it would be quickly reinforced by the affirmation that he will see you again. It drives him.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

Charles has no problem styling the hair of the women in camp. Should anyone come up and ask him, he'd be happy to help. He doesn't like people touching his own, though. He holds it dear.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

Charles does not like an overly-passive individual. He needs to be around someone who can stand up for themselves, to an extent. He is patient with them, should they need to learn that skill, but he will not hold out should they have no chance of coming to that. He hates dishonesty. Loyalty is also a huge thing for him, and it's extremely heartbreaking if someone doesn't reciprocate.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habits of theirs?)

You know the joke people make about being overly-paranoid? Sleeping with a gun under their pillow, or a knife? He's exactly like that. Practically sleeping with one eye open, unless he knows he's perfectly safe.

He's also extremely quiet. You have no idea how, but this man sleeps as quiet as a mouse.

__

RDR Tag List: -- General Tag List: @sazafraz :|: @tsumethedrifter :|: @angelaiswriting

If you wish to be added to the tag list, please comment or message me!

[dalekofchaos]

Red Dead Redemption remake

Either Rockstar should give us a RDR2 that gives us a expansion to let us play RDR1′s story or there should be a complete remake these are things and some changes I’d love to see if we ever do get a complete remake of the first game.

Updated graphics. Update RDR 1 with RDR2′s graphics. New Austin looks beautiful in RDR2. Simply put, make that the look for a potential RDR1 remake. Also just imagine how gorgeous  Nuevo Paraíso will look.

Retell the story we know and love. This goes without saying. We re-experience the story we know and love and the stranger missions as well.

Outfits from the first game. We’d gain the outfits from the first game and more

RDR2 voice actors return. Have Abigail, Uncle and Javier’s RDR2 voice actors dub over their characters RDR1 lines, while the rest of the voice acting of the first game remains the same

Add in fishing. I think we should implement the hunting and fishing mechanics from RDR2. 

John continues to write in his journal. Either he writes in Arthur’s old journal or he has a new journal completely. Also, since John would write in his journal, we would have more context about John and Abigail's daughter who passed away.(personally my theory was their daughter died before the events of RDR2′s epilogue, hence why John’s horse is named Rachel, but that was debunked by Abigail’s “surprise” conversation at the ranch)

Giving more context as to how and when Bill and Javier split with Dutch. Through thick and thin, these two remain loyal to Dutch, no matter how crazy he gets. Sadly, that's not the case in the first Red Dead Redemption. When John comes to arrest them, they've long since separated from the big man. What's more, is that Bill's spiteful tone says that he's glad to be rid of his old boss. in RDR2, despite the gang falling apart, Bill and Javier still stick by Dutch. Arthur implores them to think for themselves, but they've stopped listening to him at this point. The epilogue gets even more confusing. Players see Dutch join up with Micah, whom he walked away from, but Bill and Javier are nowhere in sight. These two are only loyal when the plot says so. So maybe we could add in dialogue suggesting that Bill has had enough with Dutch's lunacy and decided to lead for himself and Javier just left. Maybe John could point out what Javier told us in camp about his revolutionary past and became Allende's thug for hire. "how the mighty have fallen, old friend" and Javier simply says "Colonel Allende promised me a full pardon, all that mattered was returning home."

Since John never mentions Arthur, maybe to go with RDR2's High/Low Honor animal dreams, maybe John could be visited by Arthur's animal spirit. idk like they have to do something with Arthur in this remake

Keep Irish as a sidekick throughout the Mexico section

The confrontation between John and Bill should be longer

Replace Nastas with Charles, only don’t kill Charles. The Bureau of Investigation offers Charles a full pardon. Act as informant to Dutch’s new gang and he will be freed and he will help free Natives the from Dutch’s silver tongue and prevent them from suffering a similar fate to Eagle Flies. The change is Charles would be injured, but John makes it in time to give Charles the aid he needs. Charles would later join John in the mission to bring down Dutch.

Keep Uncle’s colorful character from RDR2 for the remake. In RDR1, Uncle was a cantankerous curmudgeon old bastard. RDR2 made him likable, so keep that likability and sprinkle in a mention of Lumbago, have dialogue on the ranch that has Uncle telling tall tales to John, Abigail, and Jack and in the final mention have Uncle say “This looks like The One Shot Kid’s  final stand”

Maybe prior to John's death, maybe we could learn about the fate of the gang during the events of RDR1. We could learn what happens to Sadie, Charles, Tilly, Mary-Beth, Pearson, Swanson and Trelawny. They could decide to visit John and Abigail in Beecher's Hope. One final happy memory before John's death.

How Jack becomes the way he does in the epilogue. We could make it as long as RDR2's epilogue and show how Abigail dies(even be about the first half of Jack taking care of Abigail) and see that Sadie, Charles and possibly Landon Ricketts teaching Jack learn what he needs to in order to avenge John and kill Ross

[sternbagel]

I’ve been a little stuck on some of my other projects so I decided to flesh out another thing about my RDR OC that’s been sitting in my head for some time.

Notes: set in October 1898

TW: canon-typical violence, period-typical racism, probably incorrect translations Spanish phrases, very little editing

Companion to this

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Winter is on its way. She feels it, icy tendrils creeping into the October air as it whips around her, through the brush and the trees. It’s worse here, up in the westernmost part of the Grizzlies, where the many rocky cliffs provide little to no buffer against the high winds. No snow has fallen yet, too early in the season. But even when it does, it’ll continue to weigh heavy on bare branches long after the lowlands have begun to bloom again. 

She’ll return to lower altitude soon, ride out the worst of the winter somewhere warmer, like New Austin, maybe. Visit some friends, maybe. Take a break, definitely. But first, she has to finish the business that brought her up here in the first place. 

“There you are.”

Behind her, a horse snorts, impatient. She knows what’s coming, been through this enough times. The horse doesn’t enjoy the extra weight placed on her rump during the ride back to the sheriff’s, but she does appreciate the extra sugar cubes and apples she gets afterwards. And the nice, fresh stable she gets bedded down in that night while her rider gets a room at the closest hotel. It’s only ever one night before they’re back in the wilderness. Sometimes staying just outside town, but for that one night, they live in as much luxury as the area allows.

“Easy, Moonbay,” she whispers, standing up from the frozen tracks in the dirt. “Let’s go get him.”

She mounts the dapple black Thoroughbred and combs her fingers soothingly through her white mane. Her legs squeeze Moonbay’s sides three times, urging her into an easy canter. The mare’s got long strides, meaning it isn’t long before they come up on the rider’s target: a nasty piece of work she’s been tracking for three days. He’s only worth fifty dollars, one of the cheaper bounties she’s been after in the last seven years, but once she read that he killed a mother and two children while robbing their small homestead, she’d set off immediately. 

He’s riding with three other men, but she’s not worried. She’s faced far worse odds before and come out with only a few new scars. She just hopes she doesn’t kill the bastard by accident. Giving them shit while listening to them squirm and curse her out on the long ride back is the best part.

She pulls Moonbay to a stop and pats her neck before dismounting, not bothering with hitching her before crouching and continuing forward. Moonbay’s a brave horse, and even when the gunfight startles her, she doesn’t wander too far off, always returning shortly after the firing stops, with or without being whistled for. 

The men have stopped at the roadside, one of them standing amongst the trees to take a piss. She’ll deal with that one first. Removing the bow from its place over her shoulder a few moments later when she’s creeped close enough, she nocks the arrow and makes her slow, silent approach. He’s whistling some tune, completely oblivious to her presence.

One, two, three deep breaths, she peeks around the side of the tree acting as her cover, and draws back the string. A fourth breath leaves her lungs, and the arrow flies. The string flicks against the few strands of her black hair that have come loose from the braid, and she blows them out of her face at the same time the body thunks against the leaf-covered ground.

“Jim? You smack your head again? Dumb bastard.”

They’ll discover her soon enough, so she throws the bow back over her shoulder and reaches for her two LeMat revolvers. Her thumbs run over the AT engraved in the grips of both of them as she waits, still concealed by the trunk.

“Jim? The hell—” He stops once he sees the body, arrow embedded in the temple. “What the hell—Carl, Clyde, we got a problem!”

The echo of her revolver immediately follows the man’s exclamation. He, too, falls to the ground to never get back up. She stands quickly and rushes towards the shouts from the other two men at the road. Emerging from the treeline, she spots both of them. Both of their guns are raised, but they’re facing the wrong direction. Clyde, the actual bounty, is atop his horse. If he doesn’t fire at her after she kills his lackey, he’ll surely take off. So she aims one gun at the horse’s feet—not to hit it, just to spook it into hopefully bucking Clyde off—and the other at the lackey’s head. She pulls each trigger at the same time. The lackey’s death is instant, but the horse doesn’t spook quite as much as she thought it would. The other three horses, however, do, bolting off in different directions while voicing their sudden fear.

She’s quick with her guns, but not quick enough. Once her shots are fired, Clyde turns in his saddle and fires off a shot of his own. She can’t raise her guns to threaten him before a bullet whizzes into and then out of her left arm. The gun in her hand clatters to the ground.

Retaliation is swift on her end, as she lets out a swear of “¡Chingado!” while firing off a shot at his shoulder. Anger and pain tear through her, along with the thought, If I kill him, I kill him. She’ll have to visit a doctor now, so a quiet ride back might not be so disappointing at all.

It doesn’t kill him, but it does knock him back off his horse, who then takes off with a scream. 

Oh, ahora quieres cooperar.

The gun she’s still holding is holstered before being replaced with the lasso attached to her hip as she strides purposefully to where he’s landed in the dirt. Her left arm screams and throbs with the pain, and she faintly registers the blood rolling down and off of her hand, but she has work to do. The man rolls around, pulling his knees up under him to attempt to stand up, looking frantically for his own dropped gun. His heels are just digging into the ground and he’s almost stood back up when her lasso tightens around his torso. A hard yank, and he’s stumbling towards her before landing on his back again.

“Bitch!” he spits. 

She keeps the rope taut as she approaches. “Heard that one before.”

“Greaser cunt! Fuck you!”

Baring her teeth and sucking in a furious breath, she yanks the rope again. He grunts painfully and she halts her approach, his head in easy kicking distance. “Better watch your mouth, asshole, or you’ll be headin’ back to the sheriff’s as a corpse.”

A devious grin that she does not like spreads across his face then. “Only place I’m headin’ is out of here, after I finish with your corpse, that is.”

The rope instantly becomes slack and in a swift movement—swifter than she figured he’d be able to move after being shot in the shoulder and thrown off a horse—he stands up, charging at her with a knife drawn in his right hand. He’s smart enough to come at her left side, but she’s also smart enough to throw her right side forward. There’s not enough strength in her left arm to be able to fend off the knife, so she reaches for it with her right arm instead. Her left fist collides with his stomach, though it’s not much help, only forcing out a quiet grunt and leaving a bloody fist print on his jacket. Then she grabs his left wrist with her own; two weakened arms wrestling with each other. He sneers as they struggle, and it only makes her madder. 

Anger in most situations actually helps her, gives her some clarity and more power behind her movements. In this one, however, it proves to be a detriment. Rather than use the rest of her body to throw him into the ground and wrench the knife away before grabbing her own, or her gun, she reaches for her knife with her bloody hand. It’s enough of an opening for Clyde to yank his arm back, away from their bodies. Her fist is still clenched around his wrist, so she’s pulled off balance. Wrapping his weakened left arm tightly around her neck and pulling his back flush against his chest is a task, as she’s not going down without a fight, and she’s stronger than she looks. She hasn’t let go of the wrist holding the knife, but while having the tables turned on her, he was able to position the knife less than a foot from her head. The rising pressure around her throat forces her to choose between the immediate danger of the knife or trying to loosen his arm with hers, still throbbing and leaking blood.

Her knife is sheathed on her right side, and the gun that belongs in her left holster is laying uselessly on the ground, far out of reach.

Fuck.

He opens his mouth to say something, no doubt some terrible snark or string of curses at her, but at the same time, they notice the wagon caravan come into view. 

Thankfully, he seems just as surprised as her, so it’s not his backup. Plus, he swears, “Shit,” under his breath and in her ear as he continues to struggle with freeing his hand from her grip. 

There are two riders in front of the first wagon, and neither of them look happy about the scene they’ve stumbled upon. The white man is in a brown leather coat barely hiding his burly frame with a worn black leather hat sitting atop his head, a few strands of dirty blonde hair peeking out from underneath. His dark bay Andalusian stamps its feet underneath him, smelling the blood, but doesn’t move otherwise as he dismounts swiftly, carefully. The other man to his left also dismounts his gray Appaloosa, who only snorts and throws her head, not moving either. He’s brawny as well, though his shoulders are broader, and he’s wearing a thick hooded black sweatshirt, no hat. She thinks he might be mixed race, black and Indian, maybe, long raven hair tied into a loose ponytail similar to how some of the Navajo men she’d met years ago wore theirs, but skin much darker than them. Closer to Josephine’s, she thinks a split second later, along with I need to write her when I get out of this.

Both men approach slowly as Clyde flashes the knife in his hand. He struggles to push the knife closer to her face, but she keeps it still, muscles whining with the strain.

“Easy, partner,” the one in the brown coat says calmly, accent something close to a southwestern if she had to guess, holding his hands out and away from his guns. There’s an underlying threat in his tone. “Let her go, and we’ll let you go.”

There’s very little in this world that she hates more than being a damsel in distress and being used as a bargaining chip or hostage. If he lets her go before she frees herself, there’s no way in hell she’s not shooting the bastard right in the face. 

She bares her teeth again and spares a glance at the other man. He’s already watching her like a hawk with deep, perceptive brown eyes, and shakes his head subtly as if he knows what she’s about to do. 

“And why should I trust you bastards?” Clyde asks with a sneer.

Slowly, so as to not alert Clyde, she shifts her weight onto her left leg. Then, once satisfied that she’s anchored enough, she makes her move. Throwing her right foot back quickly, she tucks it behind his ankle and kicks forward, throwing him off balance this time. Her left hand joins her right and she pulls his arm downward, her shoulder digging into his chest as she throws him to the ground, hard. The dirt beneath her boots shudders with the impact and she hears the breath leave his lungs. In a swift move, one she’s practiced many times for moments such as these, she reaches for her right holstered gun with her left, pulling the hammer back before it’s left the holster, then shoots him in the face, point blank, before he’s able to even begin trying to scramble to his feet.

A beat passes while she pants and slowly holsters her gun. “Fucking bastard,” she says between pants.

“Huh,” Brown Coat breathes. He grabs his gun belt, suddenly the picture of a relaxed cowboy. “Nice move.”

She looks at him, nodding silently, before turning to grab her discarded gun and lasso. She whistles loudly for Moonbay.

“Ma’am,” the other man says, taking a cautious step forward. Only when she looks at him, brows raised, does he continue, voice deep and baritone. Soothing, in a way. “Can we ask what that was about?”

At first she doesn’t answer, just regards them warily. They are dangerous, that much is apparent in the way they carry themselves, the way they dress, and the weapons they carry. But they don’t seem to present her much danger at the moment. The threat in Brown Coat’s voice was gone when he spoke. Nothing but worry, confusion, and intrigue show on either of their faces. So she relaxes. A little. “His head’s worth fifty bucks.”

Black Sweater chuckles lightly and Brown Coat opens his mouth to say something, but he’s cut off by two other voices as they come up beside the men. The first belongs to a much older white man with deep lines but bright perceptive eyes, the second to a white woman in a plain dress, blue eyed, her black hair pulled into a high and tight bun. 

“Arthur, Charles, you two okay?”

“What happened?” 

Brown Coat turns to them and holds up a calming hand. “Everyone’s okay. ‘Sides the bounty she was after.”

The woman perks up once she lays eyes on the other. “Oh, hey, you been shot.” She sounds genuinely worried. About what exactly is unclear.

“Ma’am, you should go see a doctor about that,” the older man says gently.

“I will,” she replies with a one-shoulder shrug. “Gotta collect my money first.”

As if on cue, Moonbay appears in the treeline with a soft nicker. Once she sees the other people, she stops, ears flicking forward and nostrils flaring curiously.

Black Sweater takes another few steps forward, hands still raised harmlessly. “It won’t be easy to get him back by yourself.”

She can tell he means no offense, but it still pulls her lips into a slight frown. “No, but I’ll do it.” Then her mouth twists into something uncomfortable as a memory surfaces, but she quickly plunges it back under and pulls her face back into a neutral expression. 

“You don’t have to do it alone.”

A strange offer, from people she doesn’t know. It must show on her face, because the woman speaks up again.

“We’ve got some space in our wagons, and we can get ya stable until you get to the doctor.” The woman motions back to the wagon caravan, and it’s then that she notices the other four wagons and riders, hanging back at a reasonable distance but watching with interest. “And Arthur can stow your bounty on his horse.”

Brown Coat looks at her sharply. There’s no malice in his voice or face, rather amusement and surprise. “Why you volunteerin’ me, Abigail?”

“Why not?” she shoots back with a teasing smile. “You got experience takin’ bounties in, don’t’cha?”

“That’s true, but—”

“Just stow her on my horse, Moonbay,” she interrupts the two. She doesn’t notice that her mount has stepped closer, so she startles when the mare nudges her good shoulder, expecting a treat or checking up on her. Or both. “Hey, bonita.” As she reaches up to stroke Moonbay’s nose, a sudden wave of exhaustion rolls over her. The fight hadn’t been long or particularly bloody, but it’s been a long three days and the numbness in her arm is starting to fade away post-battle. Meaning all the pain will start to register, and she has no medicine that’ll ease the pain nearly enough. And this bullet wound is bleeding more than usual. 

“Okay,” Black Sweater—Charles, if she heard the name right—agrees, taking more steps forward until he’s at Clyde’s body. “Think she’ll be okay next to a wagon, or you want one of us to lead her?”

“I didn’t agree to go with you.”

Nobody seems convinced by her tone. 

“You don’t wanna bleed out on the way there, do ya?” Arthur asks.

She frowns more at that, like a petulant child. They’re right. They know it, she knows it. And something tells her that these people won’t bring her any harm. That their offer of help is genuine. She can’t deny that getting her wound tended to while sitting comfortably in the back of a wagon doesn’t sound enticing.

“Come on,” Arthur waves her forward before making a move to go to one of the other wagons. “I’ll go speak to Dutch. Uh, what’s your name, anyhow, ma’am?”

For the first time in a long time, her real name worms its way to the tip of her tongue. She quickly bites it back. Why, why now? Not that the name would mean anything to them, but still. It’s a part of her past she keeps locked away for a reason. These strangers have no business knowing her business. So she takes a deep breath, watching them for a moment, before relaxing her shoulders and nodding. 

“Alberta Taylor.”

“Well,” Abigail says, holding out her hands, “I’m Abigail Roberts. Come on, Alberta Taylor. Let’s get you taken care of.”

She nods again. “Just Al is fine.” Then she turns and announces over her shoulder, “Best one of you lead her. Moonbay, esta bien, hermosa. Buena niña.” 

Moonbay throws her head up once, snorts, then lowers her head as Charles approaches. She still seems a bit wary, but doesn’t flinch under his gentle touch and soft words. Satisfied that she’ll behave, Al turns back to Abigail, who is leading her past the first wagon. She’s uncomfortable with the many sets of eyes now on her, but ignores that feeling and the pain.

Besides, after they get her to the doctor, she’ll likely never see these people again. So she can stomach this unease for the time being. 

[aurelacs]

Ten of Wands

An Ezra/F!OC Red Dead Redemption AU

WORD COUNT: 5.8k

CONTENT: smut smut smut finally there is smut i promise it’s in there, unprotected sex, once again i stand firmly in the camp that ezra is god’s #1 pussy eater, consent is sexy, this is the final chapter

A/N: Yeah this one went way longer than I intended. We have reached the conclusion of this little ditty, but don’t forget I still plan on an epilogue after this! Thank you everyone so much for reading. 

This is set in the Red Dead Redemption universe, however there’s no spoilers for either game, and you don’t need to have prior knowledge of the games to understand the fic. I’m just using RDR for the setting and the time period (1899). Hope you enjoy!

chapter list | masterlist | read on AO3

V. The Lovers

Dawn rose as Ezra and Annie sped away from Strawberry, Ezra pushing the limits on how fast his old war horse could go. Annie kept her arms wrapped tight around him. Her cheek pressed so hard into his back she thought she might sink into his spine. They didn’t stop riding until they were surrounded by trees high enough to block out most of the rising sun, close to where Annie killed her first deer. It was there that Ezra had set up camp amongst the craggy, moss covered rocks. Lucille was hitched to a tree that stood next to what Annie could only assume was her tent. When she looked inside, she saw her bedroll and her clothes already laid out, like she had never left. Ezra took notice.

“I wasn’t sure why you were gone for a spell; whether it was because you wanted to leave or someone took you, so I kept your tent up just in case you decided to make your way back. If you had left. Usually bounty hunters aren’t so clandestine in their pursuits, so you can see why I thought you might have just gone.” His words caught in his throat like he wanted to say more, but his body wouldn’t let him.

“Thank you, Ezra. Really.”

He smiled, a shy, contained one where he ducked his head to try and hide the blush that was making its way along his cheeks. As he started the fire, he assured her that it was safe. That he tested the spot they were in three times over to make sure that the smoke of the fire couldn’t be seen over the treetops, and that the light from it couldn’t be seen from the roads. He wanted to make sure she was safe, and she felt it. Annie slept, in peace, undisturbed, until the next morning as Ezra dutifully kept watch.

When Annie left her tent, Ezra was still awake, propped up on a tree with a rifle in his lap. He smiled up at her and greeted her with a good morning that dripped with honey. A tin can sat by his side, half full of what looked like brown sludge.

“Coffee’s shit. But it works,” he laughed.  He got up from his post and sat himself back down next to Annie as she tried to make a meal with what little provisions Ezra had left. The sleeves of their shirts brushed as Annie worked. She could feel Ezra’s eyes on her, following the curves of her face and settling on her jaw. 

“How long before you realized the hunters took me?” 

“Well, I went to Armadillo to make sure at the very least you were okay, and when I went into the general store, I did not see a woman who barely knows the backend of a shotgun from the front trying to rob anyone.” 

Annie shoved him on his shoulder, hard enough that the momentum sent him tumbling on his side in a fit of laughter. “When are you gonna let me live that down,” she chuckled. 

“I dunno. Maybe when you’ve earned it.” Ezra settled back up and focused his gaze on the small fire. “Maybe when you’ve grown past the skittish thing I first met back in Valentine. Wasn’t even sure if I was looking for the right woman at one point, on account of the fact that you let them take you without a fuss. That’s not the bird I’ve grown to know.”

“I figured they caught me fair and square.”

Ezra raised an eyebrow. “Very much not the bird I know.” 

Annie quietly mulled over her breakfast, not wanting to dignify him with a response despite its resounding truth. She didn’t know why she struggled to tell him why she let them take him, either. The words that came up her throat fell silently from her tongue. She decided to let the matter rest, and watched as Ezra voraciously ate his way through their meal. A pang of guilt rang through her as she assumed the possibility that he hadn’t properly eaten since she was taken. 

“The MacFarlane Ranch lies before Armadillo,” Ezra said, mouth full of beans, “but we will have to stop in town first before  getting you hired there.”

“And why’s that?”

“I have a friend that can procure you some papers to keep the hunters off your trail. It’ll also probably take us the rest of the day to get there so it’ll give us the chance to rest up some more.”

He urged Annie to finish eating so they could travel the roads without the burden of the growing desert sun, or possibly running into more bounty hunters or lawmen. They walked their horses through the dense forest until reaching a main road, the sun still trying to rise. The scenery still entranced Annie; how the biome seemed to change with each mile. She watched as the forest turned into rolling fields of wheat along the Great Plains. As they crossed a river, Ezra leaned back towards her.

“Welcome to New Austin, little bird.”

Riding further, the green that was supplied by the nearby river faded into the sandy desert Annie saw in her dreams. Armadillo was still a way off, but seeing it, hearing the sound of her horse’s steps change, filled her with a sense of peace. The sun had barely risen and already the heat bore down on them. Annie felt the temptation of just removing the work shirt she had on and letting the sun and everyone else see her nearly naked except for a sheer undershirt. She strained to see if Ezra felt any effect of the desert heat. When she looked up, she saw that he had removed his light overcoat, and was wearing just a cotton shirt, a couple buttons undone and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows to display his tanned skin. Annie felt her mouth water for the first time in hours. She felt sweat ripple down her spine and they pressed on. 

Ezra wasn’t kidding when he had said that the MacFarlane Ranch was like a small town. The two only rode through the main road, but the ranch seemed to stretch on for miles. Immediately on their right was a large, faded house with a red roof that Annie assumed belonged to the family. A little past it was a grouping of small houses that belonged to the workers, and behind those was an area for the horses. Some of the workers nodded at them as they rode past. Ezra assured her they were almost to Armadillo. 

As they rode through the ranch, Ezra slowed to let Annie match his stride, and he began to tell her about the area, detailing the two towns and the areas surrounding it. They made their way down a road carved from a large cliff in an area he said was called “Hennigan’s Stead.” Along the trail were people who chose to make camp, and they all waved or nodded at the couple. The area being so populated worried Annie. He assured her that New Austin was more respectful of “outlaw ways” than West Elizabeth or New Hanover. 

“Most of the patrons of New Austin have bounties of their own, birdie. Our whereabouts are of an unknown variety here.” 

Annie tried to fight back tears as she and Ezra rode under the understated sign that simply read ‘ARMADILLO.’ It felt like a burden off her back, a weight so heavy that as it lifted she thought she might float away. Ezra directed her to the saloon at the very end of the town’s main and only road. She kept close to Ezra as he walked in. The population was less dense and diverse than Blackwater. It seemed to consist of mostly working people, cowboys and ranchers probably from the Ranch. Jaunty, upbeat music played from the piano in the corner and there were a few people dancing in the empty space between the bar and the tables scattered around the room. Ezra ushered them to the bar where he put down five dollars, enough for a stay at the hotel upstairs and drinks. 

“Promise me it won’t end up like last time,” Annie said as he told her the man he was meeting was in the saloon.

Ezra winked at her. “If the gentleman gives me what I require, there’ll be no need for quarrel.” He walked into a back room to the right of the swinging doors 

Annie sat at the bar and downed a shot of whiskey. Even the poor shelter from the faded, wooden building helped cool her down. She took a glance outside to check on her and Ezra’s horses, hitched at the side of the saloon next to a water trough. The events of Ezra’s prior shady dealings had her on edge, and she took another shot to calm her bouncing leg. No one seemed to pay her any mind. As she looked down the bar, she saw the faces of a couple other patrons just like her: tired, overheated, trying to pass the time. It was hard to keep her head down with the bartender routinely coming over to offer her more to drink, or other patrons bumping in to her to get closer to the piano. Every muscle in her body unclenched as Ezra took the seat at the bar next to her. He ordered a shot for himself and slid the presumed papers across the counter over to her.

“You probably won’t need them to get a job down at the ranch, but if hunters ever try and steal you up again, you can whip these out and say ‘I’m not Annie Cobb.’” He took a shot and slammed it down. “And they will have nothing to prove you otherwise. Congratulations, little bird.” 

They let themselves wind down, too exhausted from the heat to consider making their way back to MacFarlane’s. Ezra himself sounded unsure as he suggested it. With the finish line in sight, they chose to relax and use up the money Ezra had put on their tab. Day fell into night and the saloon soon filled up further than Annie thought possible. The music continued to play. Annie couldn’t remember if it had ever stopped.

“Let’s dance,” she said, her gaze fixated on the group of people square dancing in the middle of the floor. 

“I didn’t see you as the dancing type.” 

Annie stood and held out her hand for Ezra to take. She guided him to the makeshift dance floor, finding a rhythm that didn’t match what was being played. He stood by her, laughing at how out of time she was, and at how she ignored that everyone else was following an old square dance. After three shots, she felt it unnecessary to care how she looked, but after enough coaxing from Ezra, she took the time to learn the dance everyone else was doing. It involved swinging each other around the room. The idea excited Annie. When she thought she had enough of a grasp on it, she joined back in, letting the arms of strangers guide her around. It was thrilling. It felt freeing to be swept up in the joy of others. Her smile grew wider as Ezra eventually joined in. 

The music slowed tempo, and this time Ezra offered his hand to Annie. She folded into him, letting his hand settle right above her waist. He pushed their bodies closer together so their chests were touching and began to sway them to the beat. It gave her a chance to let her heart settle from racing, or so she thought. Goosebumps ran down her spine as she felt Ezra begin to rub his thumb up and down her back. They swayed there in silence, let the softness of the moment speak for itself. 

“They were going to hurt you.” Annie said it after a couple minutes. 

“Who?”

“The bounty hunters,” she whispered it low, so those around them couldn’t hear. “They told me to come quietly or they’d have killed you.” 

“I very well could have handled them, birdie.” She couldn’t stop thinking about how good his calloused hand felt in hers, or how the one on her waist seemed to engulf it. 

“With you fast asleep and a gun pointed to your head? I don’t think so.”

Ezra spun her in time with the music before returning her to his arms. “Why would that matter to you? My living or dying? I have spent my life as an outlaw, I might as well have gone out protecting someone. Doing something law-abiding with my time for once.”

“Don’t you get it, Ezra?” The alcohol and heat played tricks on her mind, made her more brave than she thought she needed to be to say anything. “I care about you. Greatly. More than I care to admit.” 

The two of them hadn’t stopped dancing. There was nothing but a distinct silence between them. Embarrassment took over her, and she wanted to hide, run into a random room in the saloon and not leave until morning rose and Ezra was gone. 

“If you don’t feel the same, I’d appreciate it if you would let go of me.” 

Ezra dipped her, one strong hand splayed across her back to keep her balanced, their noses almost touching. “Don’t be ridiculous, little bird. Why do you think I spent almost a month looking for you?” 

The music seemed to grow louder with each spin they made, Ezra holding her a little tighter with each flourish of their steps. Annie buried her face into the crook of his neck. His shoulder absorbed most of the joyous laughter that erupted from her body. She made it to Armadillo. He loved her. The candlelight chandelier shining down upon them felt like a blessing from God. 

“Kiss me.”

“Excuse me, birdie?” Ezra’s smirk could have lit up the whole room. The nickname set her heart ablaze as the whiskey coursed through her. Annie couldn’t stop looking at his lips and the way his top lip arched into a gentle bow. She reached her hand up, tempted to brush her thumb along his bottom lip, but opting to trace the scar that danced across his cheek. The rest of her fingers curved gently under his jaw.

“I said ‘kiss me,’ Ezra.” She stopped their dancing in the middle of the saloon to bring each other in to focus, her hand still on his cheek.

Ezra’s smirk grew into a smile, the glimmer in his eyes reminiscent of the one he had all the way back in Valentine. The low light of the saloon shined around him like a halo and his beauty overwhelmed her. This man who went out on a limb to help her, to save her, to not once mention what she had done. Who wasn’t afraid to say he knew her. He made her feel safe for the first time in so long, and she didn’t know what to do with this feeling. It hit her like a bolt of lightning when he smiled and leaned in.

He kissed her. Quick and chaste in front of what felt like the entirety of Armadillo. It happened so fast, it didn’t give her any time to react to it until his lips were already gone, a ghost across her mouth. The delivery, the circumstance, felt so insufficient for what Annie had been anticipating that it almost made her scream. As she opened her mouth to protest, Ezra took her hand from his cheek and guided her past the bar to the stairs. When Annie realized where Ezra was taking her, her hands began to tremble. A nervous ache crept into her stomach. She fought back the urge to yell at him, chastise him for wasting the one opportunity they might have had where she finally felt okay. Their room was at the very end of the landing, and the mix of elation and dread grew with each passing step until finally they had made their way inside and Ezra closed the door. He paused, noting the look on Annie’s face. 

“Are you alright? I hope this is okay. I wanted to afford us some privacy. I think it’s the least you deserve.”

Annie nodded, almost unable to look him in the eyes. 

“Do you still want me to kiss you?” A touch of concern leaked in his voice. Ezra had kept his distance, a couple steps away from where Annie stood with her hands folded in front of her. She looked up at him pleading, almost begging.

“Yes.”

Ezra wasted no time closing the space between them, their bodies molded together as though they were carved from the same stone. He took her hand in his and traced his thumb down her middle finger. He brought the hand to his lips and gave it a soft kiss, the air from his nostrils cascading down her knuckles. He placed the hand on his shoulder. Annie mirrored his action and moved her hands down a little lower so they laid on his chest. She took comfort in the feeling of his breathing. Through her palm, she could feel his heart racing. Ezra cupped her face in his hands and drew her close, their lips so close to touching that the feeling made Annie’s start to itch.

“My bird,” he whispered, before bringing her in for a kiss. 

This kiss lit every one of Annie’s nerves on fire until the pleasure nearly veered into actual pain. It had been so long since she was kissed, since she wanted to be kissed, that she already had to hold back a moan. It felt like taking her first drink of water. To hold him in her hands, to feel his calloused fingers caress her cheeks, to just be kissing him without fear: it overwhelmed her. Made small tears fall from her eyes and collect at the bridge of Ezra’s thumbs. 

Hesitantly, Ezra brushed them away. “Should we stop?”

Annie shook her head ‘no’ and pulled Ezra impossibly closer, running a hand up the back of his head to tangle in his unruly hair. There was a passion behind it that Annie could never remember feeling; an urgency she forgot could ever exist. When Ezra lightly dragged his tongue across her bottom lip, she moaned. A quiet noise that got caught in the back of her throat and made her cheeks flare in their warmth. She ran her hands down his trunk and back up again, stopping at the top button of his shirt.

“I am all yours.” Ezra’s hands moved and settled at her waist to give her room as she undid each of the buttons on his shirt, showing remarkable restraint. His skin was burning hot, slightly flushed from the alcohol and the attention he was receiving. It felt impossible not to stare. Annie felt the urge to stop. She wanted to lay him on the bed and drink him in for a week. Nothing explicit, just tracing her lips down his skin, counting every scar and freckle until the world inevitably ends. She knew he would oblige. Instead she brushed the shirt off of his shoulders and held him close again. She kissed him where his jaw met his neck, relished in the small sigh Ezra let out; peppering kisses all over his face until finally moving back to his lips. Annie mirrored his action and traced her tongue along his bottom lip until it elicited a moan that she felt reverberate in the back of her throat. Her hands moved from one spot on his body to the next, unable to get comfortable with just one soft patch of him. Taking his wrist, not separating from the kiss, Annie pulled Ezra forward, moving herself backwards toward the bed until it came into contact with the back of her knees, and she sat. Eyes level with the waistband of his pants and the growing bulge beneath them. As she went to unbutton them, Ezra stopped her, his hands gingerly removing hers. 

“Let me focus on you, birdie,” he said. He kissed her forehead and told her to move back onto the bed so her head lined up with the headboard. Ezra straddled her waist and leaned in for another kiss, this time more desperate, more urgent than the last. There was more tongue, a sense of neediness that Annie had never sensed from him before. Annie matched his pace, holding onto him as though removing his lips from hers was a death sentence. The room was so far from the commotion downstairs that the only sound in their small room was the chorus of moans they brought forth from one another. She gripped onto his shoulders, digging her nails in hard enough she knew they would leave marks. She could feel the heat growing between her legs. 

Ezra cradled the back of her head with one hand while the other deftly undid the buttons on her shirt. He worked his way up and down her torso, planting open mouth kisses and love bites everywhere he could find. Annie’s back arched as he dragged his teeth down her ribs, and he took the chance to do it over and over until it left her breathless. His hand slid beneath her undershirt, a finger teasing the underside of her right breast as he watched her for permission. All in his hand. He lightly rolled the nipple between his fingers and Annie cried out, far louder that she was intending, and she watched Ezra smirk from between her fluttering lashes. She grew even louder as Ezra’s tongue began to dance around her other nipple, the sensation flooding down to her core. He coaxed off her undershirt, Annie grateful for the cool air that brushed against her heated skin. Ezra continued his way down her body, lighting a fire with each kiss he planted. 

“Is this alright,” he asked, voice gritty with want, and he toyed with the button of her jeans. Annie nodded. He pushed them off of her, making sure his hands came into contact with every bit of her legs as they came down. Replacing his hand with his lips, he kissed his way back up her legs, slowly becoming more rough the closer he got to her apex. Ezra nipped and sucked at Annie’s inner thighs until she begged him to stop from the overstimulation. He responded by kissing his way to her core, ghosting his nose over her lips until her hips bucked, urging him to push forward. 

Ezra ran a thumb down her slit, already wet from his prolonged teasing. His tongue followed a similar path, up and down, avoiding her clit until she reached a point where she was starting to soak the bed beneath her. He wrapped his arms around her thighs, pulled her closer, and dove in. He moaned at the scent of her, nuzzled his nose onto her clit as his tongue sank into her. His hands rested on her hips, adding pressure every time they threatened to buck again. Annie, her eyes tightened shut for the most part, dared to open them and glance at Ezra. She nearly came from the sight. His eyes were darkened by a lust and hunger she had never seen from him before, his nose was shiny from her slick. She reached down to tug at his hair and he moaned against her.

“I thought I would have to bring down heaven itself to taste you,” he said as he came up for air for a moment and kissed her inner thigh. All Annie could do was moan and sink further into the bed. Ezra made his way back down, tracing another finger along her slit, and slowly sliding it between her folds. Annie hummed with pleasure as he began to slowly thrust it inside her. He curved it and slowly massaged the area until he knew he found her spot. It took everything Annie had to not kick him off of her to try and bring herself some relief. He slowly coaxed in another finger, working his tongue on her clit and continuing to fuck her with his fingers. It was like he was purposefully teasing her more, trying to keep her as close to orgasm as possible without actually making her come. Every time she thought she was about to, Ezra would change his pace, or adjust his hand, leaving her unfulfilled and close to exhaustion. Even though night had fallen, the desert remained heated, and Annie’s skin gleamed with sweat. 

“Ezra, please,” she panted. When Ezra looked up at her, she could’ve sworn he looked drunk.

“What’s wrong, birdie?” As he talked, he dragged slow circles around her clit. 

“Please let me come.” 

He huffed against her thigh in disappointment. “If that’s what my bird wants,” he said, his tone taunting and full of need. “How do you want it?”

“What do you mean?” Ezra crawled his way up towards her and kissed her, his tongue dragging along hers, making sure she tasted herself. 

“How do you want to come? I can keep playing with you down here,” he ran his finger between her slit again, “or we can get to the real fun stuff.” Ezra took Annie’s hand in his and guided it to his center where his cock was so hard she thought he might come from the contact alone. He sighed at the small release. It made her dizzy, thinking that she caused this. 

“I want you.” The speed at which she said it almost embarrassed her. 

“Yes, ma’am,” Ezra smiled against her lips. He moved and pressed hot, fevered kisses along her jaw and down her neck. Annie watched in awe as he leaned up to take off his pants and underwear, her eyes trailing down his soft, scarred torso to the lush curls that swept down his navel to the length between his legs. The bed sank as he knelt over her, his body close enough to hers that she could feel the heat radiating from him. 

There was a tension in the air. A hesitation in Ezra’s actions that confused her while he hovered over her, unmoving. 

“What’s wrong?” 

“Are you sure this is alright?” He brushed a strand of hair that had fallen to the middle of her face. The sincerity of his statement shone in the candlelit room, a glint of caution in his eyes that Annie appreciated, but the fire he had lit beneath her made her grow impatient. She dragged her nails down his chest, watching as the goosebumps followed down his skin. She took him in his hand and smeared the small amount of precome around his head. Guiding him to her entrance, Ezra raised his eyebrows, silently telling her he got the hint. He pushed in slowly, carefully, letting her adjust to every part of her. Annie relished in how he stretched her. She couldn’t remember the last time she had had sex. Before she killed her husband, she had been managing to hold him off for a couple months. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it. A moan arose from her throat, a low mewl that encouraged Ezra to proceed. 

She rose her hips up to meet his, legs lazily wrapping around his hips as he began to thrust into her. It was hard for her to contain her moans with him filling her up so perfectly. Ezra leaned his head down so that his mouth was next to her ear. The combination of his own moans and his words of adoration made her mind fuzzy. Calling her things her husband never called her, saying things her husband never said: beautiful, mine, perfect, celestial. Ezra cradled the back of her head in one of his hands.

“I have been thinking of this far longer than I’d like to admit,” he whispered, picking up the pace a little. “Been dreaming about you, and your pearlescent smile, and how your hair smells, and the feeling of you around me.” He softly bit on Annie’s shoulder. His voice, praising her, loving her, laced with lust brought her close to orgasm again. Her hips found his rhythm and matched him, causing him to throw his head back. “Fuck. My sweet bird.” 

Ezra leaned back and propped one of Annie’s legs over his shoulder, allowing him to reach deeper. She knew she wouldn’t be able to last long from there as the angle meant that he could hit her spot over and over. Her left hand ran through his hair while the other snakes down between their bodies and began to rub at her clit. The pleasure built as Ezra continued to thrust into her, suck marks into her skin, whisper praise in her ear, until she saw white. 

He brought her lips to his and swallowed her cries of pleasure, his hips stuttering as he followed soon behind. In that moment, the world could have ended and Annie would have laid there in utter contentment. Ezra rolled off of her with a sigh. He wrapped an arm around her and pulled them together so they were face to face. The night had finally cooled, and she was grateful for his warmth.Annie could do was let out a breathless please before Ezra took it in his hand, gently kneading it 

Annie’s mouth moved, trying to find the correct syllables to properly convey how she felt. It was bliss. A slice of heaven she never thought she would have. She wanted to tell Ezra she loved him, let the words vibrate in her throat and watch his smile grow again, perhaps have him again, in the reverie they created. The sentiment fell apart, Annie still too breathless to get her point across. It didn’t matter to Ezra, who had been watching her the whole time. He still smiled, and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss softer than she expected.  

“You have a big day tomorrow, little bird. You should get some rest.” Ezra climbed out of the bed to blow out the candles surrounding them. When he returned, he pulled the quilt over them and molded himself to the curves of her body, tucking her head underneath his chin.  

Hopefully, I will be long gone by the time you read this. 

Annie wanted to burn the letter the second she read it. A crushing sadness gave way to a blazing anger that translated in the heavy steps she took as she descended out of the saloon. In the letter was ten dollars, enough for her to buy some provisions and a stagecoach to the ranch if she didn’t feel like making the trip on horseback. She figured the day was early enough, and the distance short enough, that she would be able to make it to the ranch before it got too hot again. Her heart couldn’t help but sink when she approached Lucille and didn’t see Ezra’s horse beside her. She grew mad at herself. What was she expecting? For him to stay with her? She knew he was one of those “once an outlaw, always an outlaw” types. Ones who had been caught up in the lifestyle for so long that getting them to leave would have been impossible. It still stung.

At one point, I did consider settling down alongside you, but I decided that the MacFarlane Ranch was not a place best suited for the likes of those like me. I thought it best to leave you, and therefore leave you untethered to the past you are so close to escaping.  Also, there are apparently five bounties on my head, and staying with you would only cause more trouble that you don’t deserve. 

All the trouble he went through to help her. The time spent simply getting her to this point. It almost felt like a waste. Did he think she wouldn’t do the same for him? Surely he could have made his own papers as well. The man in Valentine said the MacFarlane’s were always hiring. Ezra said he wouldn’t have minded dying protecting someone. Doing something “law-abiding.” He could have protected her on the ranch. Somehow. By that point, she would have done anything to keep him close by.

I hope, for your sake, our paths don’t cross again. To keep you safe. I know you’ll be fine. You were strong when I met you, and you’re even stronger now. 

It wasn’t hard to find the right path to the ranch, even if the same stretch of sand went on further than she could have comprehended. There was constant traffic that appeared to be coming and going, especially in the morning. Annie made way for the few carriages that made their way down Hennigan’s Stead, each filled with specific produce from the ranch. Before this, long before she married her husband, she wanted to be a teacher. A small hope in the back of her mind blossomed at the idea that maybe the ranch’s population was vibrant enough to necessitate one. She wanted to push it out, acknowledging that nearly every dream she had didn’t come to fruition. 

She hated to say it. 

She hoped to see Ezra again. 

The ranch was bustling as Annie finally reached it. More wagons traveled down the main road that housed the family home. A group of cowboys rode out towards Stillwater Creek. She jumped down from Lucille and took her lead, trying to find someone in charge. Everyone pointed her over to the horse stables and told her to ask for a man named Amos. 

“Where you from?” The question startled her as a man approached her from behind. 

“Tumbleweed.” It was a larger town way out past Armadillo. Ezra told her it would be the safer choice to say if they asked. He worried that Valentine was too far for anyone to be traveling there for a job. He wanted to keep her safe. 

“What’s your name.”

“Annie.”

He reached out his hand for her to shake and she took it obligingly. He introduced himself as Amos and she immediately told him she was looking for a job. 

“You good with a gun?”

“Yessir.”

Amos eyed her up and down cautiously. She knew she wasn’t exactly dressed the part, but with the money Ezra gave her, and the money she was bound to make from the ranch, she figured she’d be well integrated in no time. “You got a horse already, so that makes my life a little easier. How’s about we start you off with nightly patrols and see how you do from there.”

Annie adjusted the rifle slung on her shoulder. “I’ll take whatever you can give me.” 

They shook hands, and silently agreed on a deal.

Good luck, my darling Annie Bird.

Tag List: @immundusspiritu @borderlinedindjarin @aforces

[sad-sweet-cowboah]

Michelle Delacruz

“Much like a wild Mustang, this woman has an untameable heart. Wild and fierce, she carries the spirit of the West.”

Name: 

Michelle Manuela Delacruz

Born: 

August 16th, 1877 (Leo)

Notable Characteristics:

Raven hair

Black and purple color scheme

Fierce, light colored eyes

Three deep scars on the right side of her face

Extremely short tempered

Often goes by “Michelle Mustang” due to people often comparing her likeness to a wild Mustang.

Skills:

Sharpshooter

Master rider

Proficient hunter and tracker

Excellent at close combat

Weapons:

Lancaster Repeater

Carcano Rifle

Rare Shotgun

Bow and arrows

Duel wielding custom Navy Revolvers

Family:

Amelia Delacruz (mother, deceased)

Tomas Delacruz (father, deceased)

Joana Delacruz (older sister)

Natalia Delacruz (younger sister)

Background:

Michelle was born to a Mexican-American family out in New Austin. The second daughter of three, growing up in a small shack with her parents and sisters. Her mother a seamstress, her father a vaquero. Given their large family and meager earnings, they learned to live off the land.

One thing Michelle loved, however, was horses. She often was found playing with the steed her father used for work, soon learning how to ride at a young age. Since then she was hooked. When she was out on the land with her family, she would watch the wild horses run across the open expanse and dreamed to be riding amongst them one day.

Being of Latino origin caused more trouble than not for her and her family. They often experienced blatant racism, tailing them home, shouting insults and threatening to lynch or burn them. Regardless, they managed to get home safe.

Until one day, her father didn’t. At the tender age of 8, Michelle and her family found out he’d been ambushed and lynched. The gang of miscreants who performed it were whooping and jeering nearby, ready to take them next. This caused them to move out of fear, relocating themselves further North. With nothing but lint in their pockets and empty bellies, Amelia and Joana sought to find work.

Things were okay for a while. Michelle learned to hunt for the days when money was too scarce for a can of vegetables or a loaf of bread. When she was 14, her mother’s health began to decline from the constant overwork. Amelia died soon after, too poor to afford treatment.

With Joana being 16, they’d managed to secure a household when they struck a deal with a wealthy man, having jobs in exchange for three hot meals and a roof over their heads. Before then, Michelle had never seen a home so extravagant. She became excited when she learned this man had a barn full of horses. She became a stable hand and rode once again, quickly learning how to break and train a horse from the ground up and often assisted in foal deliveries.

After two years, this paradise had come to an end. The man had lost his wealth, which meant having to sell his property and thus, putting the three out on the streets again. None of them could find a steady job, and moved around a lot to find work. It wasn’t until Michelle came across a bounty board in a small town, offering a decent amount of cash for the capture of a criminal she immediately recognized as one of her father’s killers.

Even though Michelle had next to nothing; a worn lasso and a rusty Cattleman revolver, she sought out this man. Using her hunting skills to track him down, she found him in a small camp in West Elizabeth. He had a few guards that she’d taken out without much of a struggle. She eventually cornered him, watching cower and beg for mercy. Blinded by anger, she held the revolver to his head and demanded he look her in the eye. He did, and she watched the realization bloom on his face when he realized who she was. Oh how she wanted to kill him, her finger hovering over the trigger. An inner turmoil of morality burned within her, knowing killing him outright would not bring her father back. She proceeded to shoot him in the leg before tying him up. She then took one of the dead gang member’s horses and rode back, begrudgingly turning him in, but was the first one in line to see him hang.

Afterward, bounty hunting seemed to become a calling for her. Not only had she found each one of her father’s killers, she was able to save enough money to buy a small home for her and her sisters, all the while making a name for herself. At age 21 and having many notches on her belt, she sought to hit a big score: Roxanne, aka “Death Rider” ( @r0xy-w0lf​ ) and began to track the famous outlaw down.

After quite some time, Michelle eventually found her, intent on capturing and turning her in. However, something seemed...different. Roxy gave a vibe that contrasted from others she’d faced, and Michelle found familiarity in her. They sat and talked, with Roxy eventually offering her a place in her gang. Michelle wasn’t keen at first, turned off by the idea of becoming a part of something she’d been hunting down for years. However, Michelle was now alone after her sisters had found lives of their own, and she missed the feeling of close family.

She’s now a part of the Death Squad, who welcomed her with open arms. She’s still trying to figure out the ropes but finds herself fitting more and more each passing day.

Extra:

If there’s one thing Michelle hates, it’s bullies. Facing much prejudice and racism throughout her life have caused her to get into plenty of fights. She will not hesitate to swing a fist.

She was in fact known to hold secret fights as a teenager to pull in extra cash.

She will also stand up for anyone who can’t defend themselves within reason.

She can and will drink you under the table.

When she was younger, she would try to befriend the wild horses by spending time at a distance from a herd that lived not too far from her home. As they grew more comfortable with her presence, she would come up and feed them treats.

She supposedly has German roots from her father’s side, but this was never confirmed.

Very few people know she was a mother. Having entered a relationship with a childhood friend at the age of 18, putting a potentially permanent pause on her dangerous lifestyle with hopes to settle down. She gave birth to a sickly baby, who died just days later. This experience hardened Michelle, as well as caused an irreparable rift in between her and her lover. She often thinks about them both, but doesn’t consider attempting to settle down again.

Her baby is buried out in New Austin, in a place that only she knows. She will visit whenever she’s in the area, and on the anniversary of his death.

The scars on her face were received early in her bounty hunting career, caught in a melee fight with her target when she was momentarily incapacitated by a guard. The outlaw had gotten a few slices in before she was able to break free.

She visits Joana and Natalia as often as she can.

She’s come in brief contact with the Van der Linde gang in pursuit of their bounties, but they were too large and powerful for her to take alone. She found respect in their morals of helping people who need it. She sometimes will chat if she runs into one of them. She’ll often steal Arthur’s hat for a day or so without his knowledge and replace it when he’s not looking.

Horses:

“I prefer stallions to mares. Mares are too much like me, that’s why I don’t trust ‘em.” - Michelle

Dante: Bay Frame Overo Criollo Stallion

Michelle’s main mount. A stallion with a kind eye and sweet disposition that she found charming. Easily her fastest horse, and by far her best.

Santiago: Bay Brindle Criollo Stallion

Michelle’s second horse. She hadn’t been looking for another horse, until his unusual brindle coating caught her eye. She admired how sturdy he was, and certainly built to handle somewhat heftier work and hunts.

Rojas: Chestnut Arabian Stallion

Michelle’s longest held mount. She's not terribly fond of Arabians and their skiddish demeanor. Rojas however, was an exception. One of the colts she helped birth in her younger days, she bonded with him during her two years as a stable hand and broke him herself. After he was sold, she tracked him down when she had the money and bought him back.

---

@theunholyoutlaw​ @verai-marcel​ @eddesceulla​

So, little known fact here for y’all: Michelle is an old character from another fandom that I decided to resurrect for the RDR universe, since in her original setting, she was also a cowgirl (a cowgirl with powers and a ghost horse lmao)

[splat-dragon]

Inspired by this post

"Imagine Sadie coming back to the ranch at Beechers hope post rdr to visit the marstons and finding those 3 crosses"

It wasn't uncommon for Sadie to be out of contact for a while, what with her bounty hunting and the unreliability of the postal service. But when one month, then two, passed without receiving a letter from the Marstons, she began to grow concerned. And it had been a long time since her last visit, too long, so she decided it couldn't hurt to visit them and, besides, no one else had heard from them either.

But the ranch was abandoned--no animals in the paddocks, the barn and the house rotting.

And three graves rested beneath a tree.

Sadie hadn't heard from the Marstons in ages.

 That wasn't concerning, on its own. Letters often got lost on their way from Blackwater to South America, especially since the revolution had broken out in Mexico. And she'd been working on a particularly challenging Bounty for the last month and a half—a letter from Tilly was waiting for her when she finally made it back to civilization.

 She'd kept in contact with most of the surviving Van Der Linde's. In her wandering, as she'd hunted bounties through the states before moving south, she'd come across them. Tilly, in Saint Denis. Mary-Beth and the Reverend in New York, Pearson in Rhodes. She didn't talk to Pearson, much, and she'd exchanged a letter or two with Karen before the drink got her, but they'd never been particularly close. But she'd always stayed in contact with the Marstons and with Charles although Charles, up in Canada, was very hard to reach.

 When a month passed, then two, and she didn't receive a letter and her letters went unanswered, a worry began to set into the back of her mind. Of course, they could have been lost, destroyed in a wagon raid in Mexico—mail wagons were popular targets, after all, as they were often full of money and supplies. But all her letters? All their letters? And she'd gotten a letter from Charles by then, two from Tilly and sent one to Mary-Beth.

So she saddled up Ares (she'd lost Hera a few years back, the mare had begun to grow old and unsound and so she'd sold her off to a farm), and began the long, long ride to Beecher's Hope. And it was a long ride--through Venezuela and Colombia, Panama Costa Rica, Nicaragua and the Honduras, up through the war ridden Mexico before, finally, crossing up into West Elizabeth.

 It took her, of course, a very long time. Long enough that she decided to purchase another horse, a gelding she called Mars, so that she could switch between them to keep them fresh and ride more of the day. Ares had begun to struggle to keep the pace she had set; long enough that she'd sent, and received, several more letters from Charles, all the way up in Canada, and the others—

 and none from the Marstons.

 Not for lack of trying on her part. She wrote letter after letter, sent several from every post office she passed. Even requested they be staggered, so that if one were lost, or one's wagon was destroyed, the whole of them wouldn't be lost. And she'd even found a few of them in destroyed wagons, when she'd stopped to dig through the debris for anything useful, stamped into the dirt, paper torn or burned.

She stayed for the night in an awful little town by the name of Tumbleweed that she used to avoid like the plague, would have ridden up to Armadillo but the last time she'd been there it had been ridden with Cholera and she had no way of knowing that the plague was long gone, didn't want to waste time riding up to check only to have to turn around and ride right back, or ride through cougar country at night to reach Beecher's Hope and hope she wasn't shot for coming to the door exhausted and unannounced.

 Mars and Ares were boarded for the night in the stable with a pasture full of horses that all looked painfully familiar, groomed and bedded down, and she almost thought to stay an extra night to let them recover after such a long trip. But such a long time without any correspondence from the Marstons was so abnormal it put a sour taste in her mouth and so she decided that she'd let them have all the rest they needed while she visited—either at the steading or in the Blackwater stables; she didn't want to overstay her welcome but John had all-but insisted that she stay, and stay, and stay even longer last she had visited.

 So she left early the next morning, wanting to ride straight through to Beecher's Hope, not wanting to have to set up a camp for the night, especially not in Hennigan's Stead, infamous for its bursting cougar population.

 She rode passed Armadillo (which, from the looks of it, was apparently well recovered from the Cholera outbreak), around a bustling horse ranch, stayed on edge as she rode through Thieves Landing, knowing hers was a well known face but that was several years past, so she kept her gun hand at the ready, careful to keep her wariness hidden. But she made it through unaccosted, and then was in the rippling grasses of the Great Plains.

It hadn’t changed, much. The same phone lines loomed overhead, and she hadn't missed them. Rabbits fled from her horses' hooves, coyotes yipped off in the distance. But there wasn't a pronghorn to be seen, and no matter how hard she looked, she couldn't spot hide nor hair of the once endless oceans of bison.

 A car rattled towards her, and Mars went wild eyed, crow hopping before digging in his hooves, unable to move far with his reins attached to Ares' bridle. She guided the two of them off the road, cutting towards the Hope, the house that John and Charles had worked to put together (pre-built, how ridiculous was that? Such a civilized concept, and her mouth twitched at the thought of how Dutch would react to such a thing) coming into view. Sadie stopped to let Mars watch the car drive out of sight, so he could learn it wasn't any danger; if she did end up keeping him, he'd have to learn that cars wouldn't hurt him. More and more of her bounties were using cars, she'd found.

Beecher's Hope was quiet.

 No roosters called, no chickens clucked. No cows lowed, no horses nickered. Rufus didn't bark at the sound of her approach. If she didn't know any better, she'd think she was riding through one of those abandoned farms that were so prolific in New Austin. But, no, that was the house that John and Charles had built, that she had convalesced in, and there was the barn, its doors wide open, that Rachel and Hera and Falmouth had been stabled in. The doghouse that John had written to her about building with Jack, and the silo that she'd never seen the purpose of, considering that they couldn't grow anything but rocks on their land.

 The paddock outside of the barn was empty, no horses or cattle grazing, the grass overgrown. The small chicken pen was vacant, the door hanging off its hinges, feed bins overturned. And up there, on the hill, she could just make out a wooden grave-marker that must belong to their daughter. John had written her almost constantly when they'd had her, from the moment Abigail had revealed she was in the family way until, after an abrupt, long period of no communication, a short letter informing Sadie of her death.

She frowned, that worry sprouting from a seed into a plant, roots constricting her chest, as she swung down from Ares' saddle, thumping up the steps of the patio, the wood creaking, rotting and threatening to give way beneath her feet. The plants that Abigail had been growing were long dead in their planters, the furniture overturned and destroyed.

 Sadie knocked, the door creaking open, and she called out "John?" as she poked her head inside, not quite fancying being shot for wandering in. But there was no response, no calls of "Sadie?" "Aunt Sadie!" or even Rufus' barking, so she walked inside, finding the house in desolate condition.

 The walls were covered in cobwebs, and rats scurried into hiding at the sound of her voice, shredding webs and sending spiders flying. She picked up a photograph—one of Arthur and John, John not any older than Jack had been when they'd hunted down Micah, running her finger over the glass and wrinkling her nose when it left a streak an inch deep in the dust.

 She poked through the house, finding a building of rats and moth eaten fabric, dust covered furniture and photographs. Jack's room wasn't as bad, but only just barely.

The simplest answer was that they had moved out, left and moved on. But when had things with John Marston ever been simple? 

 Besides, they wouldn't have left without telling her. Without telling someone. She'd asked everyone—Tilly and Mary-Beth and Charles, had even written to Pearson and the Reverend, and none of them had received a letter since her last.

 So she walked back outside, moved to mount up Aries, intended on poking around Blackwater to see if she could figure out what the hell had happened; after all, a family abruptly up and leaving their ranch would surely cause some sort of gossip. And, if no one there knew, she remembered John mentioning a Bonnie MacFarlane in his letters, and she could ask her.

 Sadie was many things, and determined was definitely one of them. John was one of her friends, and like hell was she going to let him just abandon her like that.

Aries grunted when she reached for his saddle horn to mount up, tired after so much hard riding, and she paused, reaching to grab a treat out of his saddlebag, hoping to encourage him on for that last ride into Blackwater.

If she hadn't, she would have missed it.

 The setting sun cast a light on their daughter's grave-marker, but it didn't look quite right. It caught her attention out of the corner of her eye, something she didn't consciously notice but couldn't ignore, looking away from the horse's spotted hide to look up at the carved wood.

 She'd never met the girl, had only known of her through John's letters. But she had been loved, for what time she had been with them. John had adored her from the moment she was born, had wanted great things for her, and even where she stood, she could see it in the care that had been taken in the carving of the headstone.

 It looked, she realized suddenly, almost like Arthur's, golden light shining through a ring of wood attached to a cross. It had been years since she thought of him ("Look… I can talk about him… It just hurts, is all," she'd heard John say to Abigail, when they'd thought she was asleep, and she agreed with him wholeheartedly), shoved to the back of her mind with Jake and the rest of the Van Der Linde's after putting an end to the Micah business, the parts of her past that she didn't need for bounty hunting. But she decided, then and there, she'd finally pay a visit to his grave—she'd seen it, once, silhouetted by the sun as she rode passed while hunting for Joe and Cleet, but hadn't been able to find the heart to go and pay him her respects.

 So, too, she could take a moment to give the girl her respects. The girl had been born with all the opportunities to have a better life than any of them, the daughter of a pair of ranchers, not outlaws, with an older brother that loved her, and a world that was slowly changing, in which she was seeing women slowly, very slowly, gain more and more freedoms. And then she'd died before she'd had the chance to take advantage of them; she'd been better than any of them, yet she'd died where they had lived.

The troughs at the hitching posts were bone empty, and half rotted besides, so she left their reins looped around their saddle horns instead so they wouldn't trip themselves and gave them both apples to tide them over until they could be stabled, before making her way up the hill, the near silence having her keeping her gun hand at the ready.

 She didn't reach the top of the hill.

 The worry rotted away, the roots clenching tight in her chest, leaving her gasping desperately for air, the world spinning around her. Her eyes burned suspiciously, and she hurt in a way she hadn't since Arthur had died, before him her poor, poor Jake, and as her knees hit the ground she could feel that massive, shoddily stitched wound tear open, bleeding as she found herself unable to look away from the three graves that sat beneath that massive tree that she had dozed beneath so many times before. 

Two sat close together, one looking somewhat older than the other, the wood more aged, a few feet away from the little girl's grave. 'John Marston', the oldest one read, and she couldn't breathe, 

  '1873 - 1911

Loving Husband and Father

Blessed are the

Peacemakers' 

 Abigail had been illiterate, still, she remembered, though she'd had the opportunity to learn for years. So young Jack, only sixteen years old, would have had to carve his pa's epitaph.

 She'd never been able to bury her Jake, and she didn't think she ever could have been able to do such. It had always been one of her biggest regrets, and suddenly she wondered if, had she been able to, she would have been able to.

 And then, within touching distance and much newer, a simpler grave, a square of wood on a cross, 

  'Abigail Marston

1877 - 1914

Always in our hearts'

 Abigail… Abigail was dead, too.

 The people Arthur had given his life to save, gone like that. How? What had happened? For a moment, her mind went to Dutch. Had he come back, gone after John? To get rid of the last of his past, of his original 'family', of his 'sons'? But no, she couldn't see him doing that. He had spared John, back on that mountain, had looked him in the eye and walked away. She didn't know Dutch well, had only known him for a small amount of time when he'd saved her before his decline, but some part of her knew he wouldn't go after John unless John went after him, first.

Sadie didn't want to look at the last grave, sitting further away from the two eldest Marstons but still within spitting distance. Didn't want to see little Jack Marston's grave, didn't want to see that Arthur's sacrifice had been in vain, that almost all of those people she would call family were dead.

 But she had to, had to see with her own two eyes, looked over and fought down a hysterical laugh.

 The grave marker simply read:

  'Uncle' 

 And nothing else.

 It was older, looked about as old as John's.

 Jack… Jack wasn't dead. Uncle lay rotting, six feet below that grave marker, not the little boy she'd watch run after a dog, call her Aunt Sadie, chase crickets and frogs, not the boy she'd watched learn to ride a horse and struggle to herd cattle.

 But he was orphaned.

 Both of his parents were dead, rotting six feet beneath the ground, and he was only nineteen years old. He'd had to bury them, been left alone. Didn't have any family left, his aunts and uncles, none of them blood, dead or scattered to the winds.

 It hurt, it still hurt. John had been the closest thing she'd had to a brother, aside from Arthur, and one of her dearest friends, and she'd liked Abigail a great deal. She'd have to write the others, tell them that they'd lost another member of their family, that John had joined Davey and Mac, Jenny and Sean, Lenny and Hosea and Kieran and Susan and Arthur, though she hadn't known half of them well enough to mourn them, they'd been family in all but blood to those she still remained in contact with, and it was not the sort of news she enjoyed delivering.

 But it was something that needed to be done, and something that needed to be done in person.

She looked over the grave markers again.

 The baby girl.

 John.

 Abigail.

 Uncle.

 Four more people she'd lost.

 But Jack Marston still lived.

 So she stood, brushed off her knees and wiped off her face. Returned to Mars and mounted up, intending on resting for the night in Blackwater before heading out.

 She had a boy to find.

[scarfacemarston]

Real life RDR locations

So there is a show on the Smithsonian channel called “Aerial America”. They also have an “Aerial Britain”, “Aerial Africa”, etc.  Well, they were showing a few pics and I recognized them from RDR! I’ll add more to this list if I see anymore.

This is Monument Valley in Utah near the border of Arizona. It’s probably the most famous “Old West” land mark and many movies where shot here.I have no doubt the developers used it in New Austin. The Wikipedia says “ In the video game Red Dead Redemption, the region Diez Coronas, Nuevo Paraiso strongly resembles Monument Valley. “  Honestly? I think other areas of New Austin could count for it as well. Also, this is Hoseshoe Bluff in Dubuque Iowa. It’s not identical to Horseshoe Overlook, but there are definitely some similarities! 

Do you know any? If so, reblog and add on to it! (Or reblog anyway if you like it. :P)

[jo-the-schmo]

Red, Dead, Reflections Ch.1

A/N: Hello everyone! I’m back on my garbage and writing for a new fandom, and I’m not sorry about it! Now, I doubt anyone who followed my previous writing is going to read this, but just in case I’ll give a disclaimer. This IS going to be the same concept from my old series Breaking. As you all know, I hate that story and wish I had done a better job with it, I’m considering this to be my way to do the idea justice. If you are new to my stories, Welcome new potential friend! I will respectfully ask you to not look into Breaking, only because it isn’t good, could possibly spoil the way this fic is gonna work, and is NOT for the RDR fandom in anyway. I’m really excited to be writing this story, and I’m hoping to make it better! I hope you enjoy it! I’m so sorry for this long note, please forgive me!

Word count: 5981

Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence

Summary: After a bank job with your friends goes wrong, the world decides to toss you into an old yet new world. But is this random chance a blessing or a curse? Find out by going through this semi-choose your own adventure and see what consequences you reap. 

A/N pt.2: There won’t be any choices for this chapter because it’s mainly set up, but expect some in the chapters to come! I hope you have a good time! If anyone would like to be tagged, you can message me, comment, or send an ask! Don’t be shy! :D This does not have a set character x reader because guess what? It’s gonna be partially your choice, babes! I hope you can be patient with me until this feature is implemented. 

From Out West

“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes. “Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner. “This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in 2019, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!” “Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat. “Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate. “We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right. “Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled. “Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped. “Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI can get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!” “6.” Austin corrected. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.” “She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view. “Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?” “Yes’ir.” “I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad. “You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.” “Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads. The doors were kicked in. “EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing. “Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person. “Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?” “I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack. “I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils. “Staying alert, Dove?” “Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines. “Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others. “I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be. “Take the shot!” “Fuck you!” “Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected. “Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation. “Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her. “Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you. “At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm. “You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care. “And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute. “Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice. “Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!” “There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.” “And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed. “We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in. “They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit. “Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!” “In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.” “We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two. “Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.” “What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath. “Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood. The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands. But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling. And falling. The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared.

Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside. “I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!” The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here? “Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone. You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight. “You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground. “Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson. “Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!” “Who?” “Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“ “I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood. You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance. “Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt. “Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster. “Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat. “You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage. “James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option. “Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts.   “I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty- “HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up. “Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed. “Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you. “Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you. “That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was. “Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?” “Yeah, what’s it to ya?” “Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either. “I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?” “Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name. “Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it. “Where are you from, son?” “California.” That was a safe enough answer. “James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy. “I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’” “I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion. You handed the gun back to Dutch. “Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk. “I think I like kid!” “Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside. “Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him. “Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.”  You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe. There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen. “Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you leapt through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table. “What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in. “We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language. “Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan. “Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!” “Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening. “Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact. “They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information. “I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind. “Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman. “Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments. “It’s no problem, ma’am.” “Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets. “Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering. “Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky. “Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward. “Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment. “Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?” “We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What? “What?” “Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking? “It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry. “Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.” Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled.

 Everything was black.