#please please please micah as a full character in the game

[thefirstknife]

ViDoc... 2!

A lot of cool stuff shown, my favourite being the strike, but first I want to mention this:

They said that when looking at Ace of Spades they realised they have the potential to make the rest of the deck of cards so this is why TFS weapons look like this and have character portraits; they're a deck! And specifically, these characters were chosen because of their ties to Cayde's story.

Obviously we have the generic Warlock, Hunter and Titan to symbolise the Guardians, but then there's others. Ikora and Zavala are obvious. Bottom left is most likely Shiro-4; hooded Exo with Hunter knives, I'm not sure who else it would be. The hood first made me think Elsie, but the Hunter knives don't make sense then.

Bottom right? That's Maya Sundaresh! Both as human and as Lakshmi-2, as we've learned from Veil Logs. It helpfully also has the Ishtar Collective logo. For those that don't know, Cayde worked as her guard, as an Exo, while she was still with Ishtar on Venus so that's why she's connected to him.

And top right? We have the "neoteric kiyot" cloak with the symbol of the Six Coyotes. Six Coyotes Exo member with ties to Cayde? That's Micah-10. Micah-10 category 10000 event.

Also for those that don't know, back in Beyond Light we got a really neat story about Micah-10 as a child in the lore book Your Friend, Micah Abram and some associated lore pieces that confirm Micah-10 is this kid. In one of the entries from the lore book, Micah is exploring Europa and accidentally alerts two Exos who then end up panicking, trying to shoot the intruder and then catching the kid. Then on one of the raid armour pieces, we have Cayde's flashback to this event from his POV, showing us that he was one of the Exos (as Cayde-1 then). He tried to shoot Micah, not realising it's a kid, then later grabbed them and held them up; the implication here that this is almost certainly the source of his mismatched memories that made him think he had a son. Him holding Micah is what eventually progressed in him simply remembering holding a child and constructing a story to go with it.

Micah-10 is an incredibly interesting character in general, as she is the closest thing we have to someone fulfilling the prerequisites for a speaker; even as a child, she was having strange prophetic dreams where something was speaking to her (most likely the Traveler) and showing her as an Exo. As a Guardian, she has the unique quality of being followed by Ghosts and has the title of "den mother of Ghosts."

She was also illustrated for the Volume VI grimoire collection, the one about Ghosts! Her Ghost Stories lore book is featured there accompanied by an illustration which shows her with a sniper, which the weapon with her image in TFS seems to be:

And yeah the sniper appears to have trans colours which I can't see as anything other than deliberate because Micah-10 is canonically trans! (Link to my post about it with links to a few more posts about it)

Incredibly exciting to see her featured on one of the TFS weapons, especially after she was featured in the grimoire and also in the TFS CE, in the autograph book where she left her own message, and so did the Ghosts that follow her. It's also interesting to tie her to TFS when we're going into the Traveler, given her unique relationship to the Traveler that she's harboured since she was a child. Can she become more than just a lore character now? Please?

Destiny fandom when a minor lore-only character gets one new mention be like: time to write an essay.

[bat-gwuck]

lmao so these two games have like nothing in common other than they’re both in my top 5 re-occurring hyperfixations but idc I’m having fun 😼👍

ong rdr2 and dragon age (esp origins) are my two all time FAVOURITE games so I thought ykw fuck it im gonna make a crossover AU - never done an AU before so NGL there’s a lot of kinks to iron out but I’m kinda digging it

started off with a lil’ character sheet for Arthur - I flip flopped between what I would make him (Templar, warden, keep him as a street thief/outlaw etc.) before finally settling on a mix of both warden and street thief/outlaw!! idk Arthur just gives me really strong Grey Warden vibes - a tragic hero (sometimes on a path of redemption depending on the origin/how they played it) who also has smth in them that will eventually kill them, despite having some weird benefits (in Arthur’s case, mentally)?? they’re twinning fr

I also just fucking LOVE the grey wardens so…

so it starts off relatively similar to normal: Arthur joins up with the gang at a young age, becomes a thief yada yada, and after a disastrous robbery, they end up camping in Ferelden, just before the Blight starts (unlucky)

for the purposes of this fic, the gang is only comprised of the camp girls (minus Sadie, for now), Dutch, Hosea, Arthur, John, Jack, Swanson, Pearson, Micah, Bill, Sean, Lenny and Javier - Sadie and Charles appear a bit later!!

shit goes down as normal but for story purposes, a heck of a lot faster, and the gang starts to fracture

seeing this, and wanting better for everyone, especially in the midst of the now upcoming Blight, which Dutch, for whatever reasons, does not acknowledge the danger of, Hosea (WHO LIVES IN THIS SCREW YOU ROCKSTAR) gathers as many people as will listen to him (everyone minus Dutch, Micah, Bill, Javier) with him and splits from the gang and heads towards Denerim in hopes of finding safety/starting anew

during their travels however, the group ends up getting caught up in a battle between a group of grey wardens and dark spawn - in which, because he has the worst luck, Arthur is nicked by a darkspawn which only means one thing: death.

(Literally just realising this is basically carver in the deep roads)

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on how you view it, the grey wardens offer to take Arthur back to Ostagar with them, they were impressed by his fighting skills, and arguing that the only way for him to live was to become a grey warden

after a lot of hesitation, and a bit of arguing, as he doesn’t want to leave his family behind, Arthur agrees to go with them and parts ways with the remains of the gang, promising that, once this was all over, they’d find each other again

SO I feel like this is enough for now! I definitely have more to write on this and NGL I might even write a full blown fanfic of this BC ITS SO MUCH FUN??

if anyone is wondering, Arthur will meet Sadie n Charles at Ostagar

I’m not entirely sure if I want Arthur to be the HoF in this AU?? I am very much planning on him being a prominent figure in the fight against the Blight and the Archdemon but idk?? ALSO there will be characters from both games in this AU bc I love some of them too much to leave out (I’m looking at you Morrigan and Shale…)

I did kind of want him to be a Blackwall type figure but like if Blackwall acc became a Grey Warden 💀

I hope you liked this and if anyone has any ideas for this AU PLEASE let me know I’m so lost 😭

I’ll be doing some more of these character sheets so keep an eye out for them!!

also Arthur absolutely nicked the fur collar off a rich noble

[lazulifoster]

We Need To Talk About Micah Bell

I want to get this off my chest: Theres a lot of talk about  “Micah Bell Bad” “Liking Micah is a red flag” “I HATE HIM” “I can’t respect people who like him” “I don’t see the appeal”

FULL STOP

You know what’s a red flag to me?  When people get sanctimonious about a FICTIONAL villain.

I like Micah. Do I love the actions of Micah Bell? (Genocide, femicide, grand larceny, sadism, misogyny, racism, arson, vandalism, etc) Clearly not--as a woman and an indigenous Chicana, I would never allow someone like Micah Bell in my presence, let alone speak to me. But lest we forget,  MICAH IS A FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN THE RED DEAD UNIVERSE I am allowed to appreciate a phenomenally written and complex villain like Micah,

I am allowed to think his long, blond, messy hair and voice are attractive! I am allowed to thank the stars for Peter Blomquist’s masterful acting which brought to life one of the most divisive characters of all time. I just hate seeing people enjoy things--hell, even write things for Micah--and get absolutely bombarded with “Well I’M a good person because I don’t like that character and you’re BAD if you disagree” I won’t stand for it when people will bend over backwards about how Dutch or even Arthur are inherently better characters to appreciate. UMMMMMMM????? DUTCH? Arthur is different, CORRECT, because he redeems himself at the end but lets not pretend he wasn’t a jerk for the beginning of the game (Downes, anyone?)

BUT DUTCH? The man who left Arthur to DIE ON THE GROUND? Who picked Micah above reason and his own chosen family that he knew for years? Dutch, the true villain of both Red Dead 1 and 2? No shade for liking him but lets call it like we see it--If Micah is so bad, lets keep it real and acknowledge everyone (EXCEPT TILLY, LENNY, AND BB KIERAN) were not perfect angels. Look--Y’all don’t have to agree, not even expecting you to--but I’m honestly so bored of people stanning other characters who are just as bad or worse than Micah Bell but don’t receive backlash for it? If people were condoning these actions in real life, yeah--I’d have a big f*cking issue with it, but fiction is meant to be a safe space, isn’t it?  If you don’t like something, I certainly won’t force you, but my goodness, leave the sanctimonious, holier-than-thou b*llshit at the door please. Its a videogame about thieves and murderous cowboys for goodness sake.

[strangefable]

oc tag game

thank you for tagging me, @socially-awkward-skeleton, @marivenah, @clonesupport, & @voidika <3 <3 <3

passing no-pressure tags onto: @confidentandgood, @v0idbuggy, @adelaidedrubman, @florbelles, @unholymilf, @henbased, @direwombat, @trench-rot, @detectivelokis, @ivymarquis, @schoute, @dumbassdep, @legally-a-bastard, @wrathfulrook, @incognito-insomniac, @roofgeese, @theelderhazelnut, @poisonedtruth, @fourlittleseedlings, @inafieldofdaisies, @cassietrn, @vampireninjabunnies-blog, @harmonyowl, @redreart, @jacobseed, @euryalex, @mars-colony, @glass-hope, @gayafsatan, @the-lastcall, @shegetsburned, @g0dspeeed, @eclecticwildflowers, @aceghosts, @megraen, @strafethesesinners, @derelictheretic, @sukoshimikan, @inquisitors-grave, and anyone i've missed or forgotten, i'm tagging you too <3

(also forgive me but i'm not making banners for ocs i hardly ever talk about any more, so this post is gonna be mostly text. if you want images of anyone i can share, but i just don't have energy to make new banners and i still want to actually post this so, please forgive me <3)

favorite oc

she's my baby girl right now. she's got the most space in my head, at all times i am thinking of her. she owns me and i'm not sorry. this is micah's world, i'm just here to serve her, and i would not have it any other way

honorable mentions: niamh gannon & beauregard barrett

they've been with me the longest and once had the strongest hold on me for more than a decade. they're two very formative characters for me and i will always have tiny palaces in my heart for both of them

oldest oc

niamh gannon

as far as fandom ocs that i've written and shared anywhere online, ni is the first baby girl. i started writing her when she was just a wee 11 year old student all the way through to her adult life as a wife, mother, and badass. she's the most developed oc i have, because i spent decades writing her. (she's also a bit of a precursor to what lore eventually became)

newest oc

i've got a few newer concepts circling, but as far as ocs that fully exist, lil is still the newbie on the team. she's a fun way to stretch and do some things i've never dared try before. fiery little pistol and demon who is out to create chaos in an act of revenge against a world that's wronged her

meanest oc

this is a hard one! i have several evil ocs, but they're not necessarily mean in any traditional sense. they play politics too well for that, though they can be underhanded and they'll fuck you up. of the ones i talk about here, it's probably either lilith or bowie, but neither of them are mean, exactly. lilith just wants to lash out and hurt everyone, and bowie is just blunt and crass. of my older ocs, there's fletch, who's a dumbfuck gay werewolf with a chip on his shoulder and no filters. and daphne, who's the evilest monster you'll ever meet: she wants to cut you open and splay your insides while you're still alive, but she'll talk so sweetly to your face. there's leona and lysandra, who are daddy's girls and spoiled brats. there's lux, who wants to look like a bad boy and live up to his evil father's legacy, but mostly he's just an asshole. and his father, chrys, who is evil. he trains monstrous dogs that are built to attack people. also he's a ruthless murderer but he's a suave and smooth politician, so you'll never catch him. also there's rand, my evil alpha werewolf man. then there's alfie, an absolute shithead of a bully and a punk, but he's really just a sad lonely idiot. there's torvald and romeo, my supercreeps. elena my snarky little shit who lashes out and hates everyone.

yeah, this is too hard, i have several meanies.

softest oc

none of the ocs i talk about here are soft in the least. but i have some old ones who are total cinnamon rolls. dierdre delaney is a soft sweetheart of a seer. there's bethy baby, bethany, who is a shy tiny pixie girl who is full of love and sunshine. liam who is a soft gentle romantic soul. naveen who is a sweet little nerd. rune, my soft gentle werewolf boy. olwen, who is gentle like a fairy. sienna my sweet little miracle baby. kaz the softest cuddliest kindest doctor you'll ever meet. teddy, the most cinnamon roll to ever cinnamon roll. ajlgdjlg agh i can't any more, the soft ones make my heart and teeth ache and i'm missing them so much now

most aloof/standoffish oc

i'm gonna give this one to micah, though some of my older kids could probably show her up on it. she's the one of my current stable that has the most trouble interacting with people.

smartest oc

nora by a landslide. she's a certified genius and a savant. the woman knows all.

dumbest (affectionate) oc

oh boy let me tell you, i love making himbos. fletch is one of them, what an idiot. there's rory who's a hardheaded dick. there's junior, declan, and nate, who are the pinnacle of himboness. there's cosmo, my silly class clown boy. there's virgil the clueless. there's pillip, who's theme song is literally 'stupid boy'. and then there's emmy, my flighty fashion icon

oc i'd be friends with irl

giving this one to the jameson sisters. they're the kind of friends anyone would want, imo. (there's a lot of my oldbies i'd put here, too, but this post is too long already)

if you bothered to read all that nonsense, i owe you a kiss or a cookie <3 thanks for listening to me ramble incoherently about ocs i never share any more lmao

[a1li-ens]

OK TESTING POSTING WRITING HERE... IM VERY EMBARRASSED BUT ILL TRY NOT TO IMMEDIATELY DELETE THIS (´>ω<;)

I wrote pwp of my ocs Abel and Micah on my phone on a long flight in a fugue state. idk if its good. read it and find out???? its them fucking with Abel in his nun outfit idk what to tell you (18+)

(not a scene in canon so doesn't have spoilers really I think. is it a spoiler my OC would date a canon love interest in a romance game.)

under the cut! around 2k words

Characters if you don't know my OCs by now. Info is on here: https://toyhou.se/alli_ens/characters

Abel- human nun guy

Micah- Angel guy

pardon if the formatting is fucked I was braindead writing this !

---

m” Abel, I’m not sure if I really want to bring this up, but you were a nun, weren’t you?”

a” hm? Yeah, I was. What about it?”

m” Not long after we met, you told me you would show me your “little nun outfit”. I'm somewhat curious.”

a”Oh, have you been thinking about it the whole time? Sure, I’ll go put it on."

m”ah, alright."

(Abel steps out to change. Even though it’s a simple costume, it still takes him twice as long as anyone else would. Micah doesn’t know what convinced him to ask to see in the first place, but now the suspense is bothering him)

a”Ready! Well, what do you think?”

( Abel is dressed in the full outfit, the long dress and habit. Of course, he's added heels to the ensemble. Though he's fully covered, something about the way the long, black skirt clinging to his form- is getting to Micah. He’d never once considered the outfit attractive on anyone else, but on Abel, he’s spellbound.)

m”ah, oddly, it suits you. Though, I feel like I shouldn’t be allowed to see this, somehow."

a”hoho, does that excite you?"

m”...I can’t say it doesn’t."

a” Is blasphemy even possible for you?"

m” (getting increasingly flustered) Not like this. At least, I think so. Perhaps it’s just offensive to those who pray to us? Ah. It's a strange feeling. "

a” hmhm, interesting. Are you going to confess to God after this?"

m”...I think I will. "

a”Great! Let's give you more to tell him about. "

(Abel gracefully kneels in front of Micah, neatly tucking the fabric of his skirt beneath him. With an all too charming smile, He clasps his bare, scarred hands together in prayer, looking up at Micah from the ground.

 Abel starts some kind of prayer. Micah considers himself a great listener, but in this case, it’s proving too difficult. If he were to be honest, he’d admit to having no idea what Abel was saying. He’s probably saying something obscene. His mind is far too occupied with the image of Abel gazing up at him with even feigned reverence to even consider his words. )

a”....And finally, I thank you, Holy Father, for delivering unto me my absolutely hopeless boyfriend, who hasn’t listened to a word I’ve said. Amen”

m”oh, I was listening, really.”

a”Suuuuuuuuuuure. Apologize to God for lying as well when you talk to him. From this angle, I can see you’re a bit preoccupied~" (He reaches out and pokes Micah’s raging erection through his pants)

m”Abel, you’re toying with me. "

a” Not as much as I could be! Stay where you are. "

(Micah is perplexed for a moment, before Abel leans up slightly and unzips Micah’s fly with his teeth. Freeing Micah’s cock, Abel swiftly takes it into his mouth, his lips still in a smile. The scene was tempting enough before, but now, Micah can barely take it. It looks as though Abel is worshiping his body in place of god,  Ah, it’s intoxicating. 

While it’s nothing especially out of the ordinary for him, Abel can’t help the arousal from acting disgraceful in a nun outfit, especially with a hopelessly pious man like Micah. And seeing him so into it as well, like he’s corrupted him, an accomplice in blasphemy! It’s just too much fun. Making sure Micah can see, Abel bunches up his skirt around his waist, stroking his own cock as he sucks Micah’s. If it’s a show he wants, that’s what he’ll get. )

m”Ah- ah, Abel- It’s coming, please, don’t stop, ah-"

(Micah thrusts into Abel’s throat roughly, still watching Abel, frenzied as he watches his cock disappear into his mouth. Abel takes him to the hilt, moaning and gasping around him, pushing Micah over the edge, coming hard into Abel’s mouth loud and shameless. 

Pulling away, Abel licks his tip, drinking up all of it. looking delighted, smiling at Micah with flushed cheeks, Micah thinks Abel looks beautiful. )

m”Ah, haah.. Thank you, that’s always incredible."

a” I bet it is. Enjoy the show?"

m”I did. whatever that says about me. "

a”hmhm, I like that. "

m” …Do you want me to return the favor?”

a”Oh? Yes, but I don’t think the nun outfit is your size or anything. "

m”I meant the sexual favor. not the outfit. "

a” Ooh. right. I’ll take that too! Haha, kneel down like I did then. "

( Abel stands as Micah hesitantly kneels before him. Still dizzy from pleasure, Micah fumbles with getting Abel's skirt out of the way, until Abel pulls up the hem like a curtsy, showing off his still hard cock. )

M” aah. I have no experience with this, so go easy on me. "

A” can I translate that as ‘wowww, you're so huge that I'm going to have trouble fitting it in my mouth’?"

M” no, you may not. "

(Micah, still hesitating and red in the face like he has a fever, first licks the tip. It's warm on his tongue. He tries licking down the shaft, getting used to it being so close to him. Looking down at Micah licking it so hesitantly, with his brows furrowed in concentration, Abel's having a bit too much fun. Gently but still suddenly, Abel thrusts his hips towards Micah, making it enter his mouth, muffling some kind of complaint from him. So cute. 

Micah, once used to the size of it in his mouth (albeit quicker than he intended) tries to slowly take Abel deeper. He always deepthroats his so easily, surely it can't be that difficult? 

It was, in fact, difficult. Micah has to release him to take a breath, gasping from his gag reflex. If it was anyone else doing it, this would have been in Abel's top 10 worst blowjobs he'd received, but the fact it's someone as uptight and inexperienced as Micah- who's working so hard to please him, means it's even more exciting like this. )

A- "careful, you have to work up to that, obviously. Suck it harder, you won't hurt me."

(Micah, with his pride wounded, tries sucking, holding the base of Abel’s cock to stop himself taking too much in. Finally, it's feeling good instead of being slowly torturous. 

Precum starts forming at the tip. Wait. What? Why is he so bitter and salty? It's weird. He doesn't really enjoy the taste. In fact,he expected something better.Micah releases him, looking confused.)

M” Abel. Why is the taste so bitter, are you cursed there, too?”

(Abel can't help laughing uncontrollably)

A” that's normal for humans! God, only angels have sugary nectar or whatever coming out! Since ours actually has a biological purpose.Back to it. "

( Micah looks up with a puzzled, embarrassed expression, and resumes. Getting used to the bitter,salty taste, it's actually kind of addictive. Abel's got nothing sweet about him anyway, so this makes sense, regardless of the culture shock. Sucking harder and taking him a bit deeper, Abel starts moaning softly, and throbbing within Micah’s mouth. )

A” aaah, Micah- I'm close, stop if you don't want a facial, haah-"

(Micah doesn't stop, he wants it. He keeps going until Abel's further losing himself to the pleasure)

A” Micah! Really I mean it, aaahhh, you can stop - I'm coming, come on, aah,hah!"

( Micah stays put, he wants to see this through. Abels fingers tangle in the back of Micah's hair as he climaxes, moaning and panting roughly. Even with the warning, Abel's cum fills Micah's mouth a lot more deeply than he expected, the overwhelming taste sinking into his brain. In this sole moment, Micah understands what incubi are after. Unsure what else to do,Micah swallows with Abel still in his mouth, wincing slightly at the intensity of it. Releasing Abel, he licks his lips to not make a mess, and looks up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. Oh. He never looks this red.)

A "Micah?? Aaah. You. You swallowed it. Haha.. "

M( with a more hoarse voice than he expected)" is that not alright?"

A "it's alright but- hahahh. It's really slutty.. you're really slutty to swallow on your first time. Aaahhh. God."

M"you really have to stop saying that about me, haah... I'll swallow it next time too, if it gets you flustered like this. "

A"you're going to kill me at this rate. And here I thought I could see your pretty little face dripping with cum, so sad."

M” Ah, I'd really rather swallow it than that."

A” you don't see why I'd like to see it? You don't enjoy seeing yours dripping off my face? "

M” fine, I understand where you're coming from. "

A” you admit it!” 

(Abel kneels back on the floor with Micah, both of them breathing heavily. Wordlessly, Abel cups his hand around Micah’s cheek, looking into his eyes. It's not often Abel gets like this, Micah can only assume it's some sense of him being loving or bashful, but he could never be sure if that was the truth, or just wishful thinking. Whatever it was, he's really cute acting like this. Times like this remind Micah why he is so hopelessly in love with him. Micah kisses him sweetly, he can't help it)

A” mmn, what?"

M” nothing, I just wanted to."

A” oh, here I thought you were going to ask for another round, haha."

M” I wasn't. ( he buries his face in the small of Abel’s neck.) I guess I'm not opposed to more, though."

A”hah, you never really get tired, do you? Fine by me. You can call the shots tonight."

M” ah, alright. Stay as you are."

(Micah kisses Abel while pushing him down to the ground by the shoulders. He didn't want to wait to move to the bed. Still kissing passionately, Micah’s hands travel across Abel’s clothed body, loosening his familiar collar, kissing beneath it hungrily. It would be a shame to take the outfit off though, he thinks. Unfastening it at the front, he leaves it on, instead pulling the hem of the skirt up around Abel’s thighs. )

A” heh, you really do like the dress, don't you? "

M” yes, since you're the one wearing it."

( Abel has no answer to that. 

Micah pushes Abel’s legs open, fingering him with two fingers from the get-go, scissoring them open. Abel whines and gasps, his lithe body trembling, the dress cascading around his exposed cock. Abel wants to rile Micah up a bit more.)

A” aahh- no- I'm a servant of God, aa~hn, I mustn't! What if the other sisters find out? "

( Micah stops moving briefly, but understands what Abel is aiming for.)

M "God isn't watching, we're all alone.( he pauses, before shoving Abel’s thighs apart further and lining up his cock) and He can't stop me."

A '' then, haah, O Father, forgive me! Forgiv- HaaAah!  "

( Micah thrusts into Abel, slamming him into the ground with each movement. Groping at his cool skin beneath the folds of his skirt, he can't get enough of him. Taking the waist tie from the dress, Micah stops briefly and binds Abel's wrists together above his head, the unfastened fabric falling off his body, framing it. 

Against the floor and under Micah’s control, Abel feels incredible. Swinging his legs around Micah’s waist to pull him into him deeper, bringing his bound hands around Micah's neck. Trying to kiss him, yet moaning too much to do it properly.)

M” (whispering into Abel’s ear) you belong to me now, not to the God you have forsaken. You're all mine. "

( his words go straight to Abel’s dick, now about to come)

A” aahh-ahh, Micah- Ah!"

M” Abel.. haah, come with me, now."

( Thrusting hard into Abel as he comes, Micah moans into his shoulder, sinking his teeth in, hard enough to draw blood. Funny, that tastes strange, too. Licking it up, Micah pumps Abel's cock as he comes, triggering release for both of them. Thrashing around, Abel manages to free his wrists, throwing his arms around Micah's shoulders, passionately kissing him amongst moans and gasps. Filling up with a sweet warmth, tremors shake through Abel’s body, coming onto Micah’s stomach, and the fabric of his dress. )

(The two collapse side by side on the ground, their labored breathing seeming to echo through the apartment. Rolling to face him, Micah kisses Abel softly. )

M”you know I would rather make love to you than the characters you make up, right?

A” shut up, you were really into that. "

M” haah, maybe.”

A” well, we're not going again. ( he winces, moving his body) That floor hurt you know! "

M” since when has pain actually bothered you?"

A” touchē. Whatever, be good and carry me to the bed, will you?"

M” of course. "

( Micah scoops up Abel gently and carries him. Micah places him on the bed, moving his fringe aside to kiss him softly, then turning- before Abel grabs his wrist to stop him leaving. )

A” wherever you’re going… it can wait. I want you here. "

(Micah can barely believe his ears, so he silently obliges, getting under the covers. Abel turns and holds him, his face buried into his chest)

M” I love you too, Abel."

A” fuck off. Go to sleep. "

----

THANK YOU FOR READING... PLS TELL ME WHAT YOU THINK... UNLESS YOU THINK ITS CRINGE... BECAUSE IM NEW TO WRITING OF COURSE IT IS CRINGE !! IM FREE !!! BUT TELL ME ANYTHING ELSE 💖

[whumppmuhw]

Whumptober Day 28: Peer pressure*

tw: multiple whumpers, group whump, gagged, restraints, blood, weapons, beating, slicing/cutting, hesitant whumper, (newly) sadistic whumper, long post

*alternate prompt

Multiple whumpers but everyone except the main two characters (whumper and whumpee) have names so it's less confusing :)

also more neopronouns!! because my characters deserve it

...

The music stopped, and the host of the party stood on a chair. She whistled loudly to get everyone's attention. Whumper didn't know her, he had only come to this party because of his friend.

"Alright everyone, time for the main event. Jonah, could you bring them out, please?"

Two guys, one supposedly Jonah, unlocked the basement door and headed down. While they were retrieving whatever was down there, the host and her friends closed all of the blinds and turned off most of the lights. Someone unrolled a worn out rug in the center of the living room, and the lamps around it were the only source of light.

Whumper was suspicious of...well, he didn't really know what was happening. He felt slightly anxious, and wanted to know what the hell was going on.

With impeccable timing as always, Whumper's friend Micah appeared beside him. Zhe was grinning, in an almost malicious way. "Are you ready, Whumper?" zhe whispered.

"Ready for what? Why did you drag me here?" he whispered sharply.

"Well, I know you enjoy parties, and the ladies here are very pretty-"

"You know that's not what I meant." Their conversation was interrupted by one of the host's close friends, telling the pair to find their places in a circle of everyone sitting around the rug. The two sat down next to each other, looking around at their fellow partygoers.

Micah chuckled softly. "Yeah, I know what you mean. So you know how you like all of those violent games, ones where you beat people up and get to mess around with them?"

"Yeah..." Whumper didn't think he would like where this was heading. They were just games, after all. Right?

"Well, you never seemed completely satisfied with how those games go. I thought you would appreciate the change for something more...realistic."

"The fuck do you mean by 'real-'"

He was cut off when everyone turned to watch Jonah and his friend drag someone up from the basement, kicking and struggling. Ae was covered in scars and wearing only a tanktop and shorts, which were torn and bloodied. Aer mouth was gagged, too tightly, preventing aem from screaming.

Whumper was mortified when everyone around him oohed and ahhed, including Micah. His heart dropped to his stomach when they dragged aem into the middle of the circle and tied aer arms and legs together. The party host stepped into the circle and planted her foot on aer back.

Whumper wanted to think about literally anything else, even for a second. He leaned into Micah, asking, "What's her name?"

"Carly. I thought I told you. Now shut up and pay attention."

"Everyone, I want you to meet Whumpee." Carly dug her foot deeper into aer back, making aem whimper under the gag. "Ae/aem. I want you all to be respectful of aer pronouns, it's the only respect I think ae'll get tonight."

A few people chuckled. Whumper wanted to get up and run, but the atmosphere of the room told him he was just as trapped as Whumpee.

"Thank you, Jonah," Carly stated as the stronger of the pair who had brought Whumpee up dragged a trunk full of weapons towards the group. Blades of all sorts, a whip, ropes, anything meant to make someone hurt. Micah was looking on with glee as zhe took a sip from zhir drink. Whumper thought he was going to faint.

"How we're going to play this: I'll draw a name from the hat with all of the guests' names in it, and you'll get a minute to do whatever you want. You can take something from the trunk if you want, but anything's fair game. Oh, except for killing. I want aem alive at the end of the night. Everyone ready?"

The guests started cheering, and Whumper clapped so he wouldn't look out of place. Someone handed Carly the hat, and she pulled out the first name. "Drew!"

Carly stepped away as Drew got up, a scrawny guy in a dress shirt and slacks. He peered into the trunk for a moment, pulling out a baseball bat. He grinned and walked over to Whumpee, who was curled in on aemself.

Whumper started to dissociate as the bat came down. People were cheering, Micah was enjoying it, and Drew seemed to be having the time of his life. Whumper's eyes were fixed on Whumpee, and he wanted to free aem more than anything. Whumpee didn't deserve this. Whumpee didn't deserve this. Whumpee didn't deserve this..

"Whumper!"

He snapped out of it. At some point Drew's time was over, and he had put away the bat and sat down. Whumper didn't really remember that, or why Micah was patting his back and people were cheering for him to get up.

"I don't feel so well, Micah."

"That's okay. Go release some of it. Come on, get up!"

Whumper got to his feet, feeling dizzy. He couldn't bear to look at Whumpee, so he went to the trunk and moved things around before pulling out a short dagger.

He hazily walked over to Whumpee and knelt beside aem. Aer eyes were wide, darting between Whumper's face and the blade.

"I'm so sorry," Whumper whispered, and Whumpee didn't look like ae believed him. Why would ae? I'm just going to hurt him, the same as everyone else here. I'm a monster.

Whumper brought the dagger up over his head, gripping tightly. He made the first slash and watched the dagger glide as it opened skin and fresh blood poured out. It had cut Whumpee's arm deeply, and ae tried to pull away.

For some reason, he wasn't exactly sure, Whumper didn't want that. The people around him were cheering, and some part of him told him he wanted more. The blade came down again, slicing Whumpee's lower back.

Everyone was watching in awe. Blood splattered all over Whumper's hands and clothes as he hurt Whumpee again and again. I wonder why Micah didn't bring me here sooner, he thought. I don't know why I was so scared. This is so easy; better than any video game.

He didn't want to stop when Carly called time; so to finish he stood up and kicked Whumpee right in the first cut, making aem squirm. His thoughts blocked out the cheers as he dropped the dagger in the trunk and took his spot next to Micah.

Why did that feel so good? Why did it have to end, would this be the last time?

"Dude, that was amazing! I told you you would love it." Micah was smiling, and Whumper wondered why he felt bad in the first place.

He was giddy. So, so giddy. He cheered the rest of the night, even louder when Micah got a turn. When it was over, Whumpee was wrapped in a towel to prevent blood spilling everywhere as ae was brought down to the basement and guests started to leave, thanking Carly for the amazing evening.

"Don't thank me, thank Whumpee!" she would say, and Whumper laughed the first time he heard it.

He and Micah volunteered to help clean up and were the last to leave. They chatted with Carly when everyone else left, revisiting the greatest moments of that night. Micah brought up dragging Whumper there at one point, then sat back and watched the conversation unfold.

"Wait, so you're telling me this was your first time?" Carly asked.

"Yeah, I wasn't sure I wanted to do it at first, but I'm glad I did."

"You did amazing!" Carly smiled, and Whumper blushed. "I'm glad you did, too."

"Why do you have aem down there in the first place? What'll happen after tonight?"

"Mostly just keeping aem down there and having some fun myself until I have some friends over or another party. It's fun, but you lose people quick when others are involved, and I don't know how much longer Whumpee will last."

"Well, I think it'd be a real shame if Whumpee had to die." Whumper wasn't sure where he was going with the conversation, but tonight he really didn't care.

"You're right," Carly said with a mischievous look. "I'll need to find someone else to bully soon anyway, and it'd be nice to have aem off my hands." She was waiting for him to respond, same as Micah. Zhe had never seen zhir friend like this before, and zhe think zhe liked this new Whumper.

"Well, I know someone who could take aem." Whumper smirked. "My basement is looking pretty empty right now."

"Ooooh, alright," Carly said playfully. "Ae's yours. How about I keep aem until next week, a final goodbye, then I'll help you set aem up."

"Sounds good to me. Micah, would you like to help me with my new friend?"

"You know I would. Though, if ae's going to die soon like Carly said, the body's yours to take care of."

"Deal." The three talked the night away, having a wonderful hell of a time at Whumpee's expense.

[ofallthingsnasty]

I started reading your fics on ao3 and my goodness they are such a treat😍💕 dark and nasty fanfics just hit different('capture kill' and 'through the briar' have me in a chokehold omg😖😮‍💨)

I also feel super happy to find people that feel exactly like I do about Micah from rdr2. Like he is the worst plz shoot him, but he is also just a fascinating character. I hate him, but I also think he's neat( and low-key kinda of funny) haha but I never say it out loud out of fear of getting absolutely blasted by the fandom🙃💀I mean looking at the fact that a lot of rdr2 fix-it fics, fix it by banishing Micah to shadow realm at the first possible moment and everybody making full blown essays of why he's the worst character of all time, is enough for me to keep my mouth shut lol 😭 So its really nice to see that there are people that appreciate his character and Peter Blomquist's fantastic work portraying Micah Bell.

Also are you planning on giving 'capture kill' and 'through the briar' sequals👀? Because I am 100% here for any continuation for either of them🫶

Thank you so much!! 🥰💖💖 I am so incredibly glad you like my fics - especially 'through the briar' and 'capture kill', they've grown to be my favorite stories. A little darkness sometimes (or all the time) is just so... indulgent 😉

And oh my god, anon, you fucking get me. Micah is one of my favorite characters - and the only character I truly loathe but still adore because he's just so damn well-written. He makes me uneasy in the game, to the point I visibly cringe, he is a total piece of shit I just want to punch - but he is such a good character. One of the best villains to me. And exactly, a giant part of that is Peter Blomquist's wonderful voice acting. That man is a fucking magician because you can identify Micah from his breaths alone. He did one hell of a job on that blond bastard and I really admire him for it.

"but I also think he's neat( and low-key kinda of funny) haha but I never say it out loud out of fear of getting absolutely blasted by the fandom🙃💀"

To be entirely honest, I had the same worries as you when I posted 'through the briar'. You have a lot of people on here who send you hate for writing noncon AND there are a few others who hate Micah with every fibre of their being (which is totally understandable, but please don't send hate haha) - I was really nervous to draw the ire of BOTH of these parties. I was fully prepared to get a few nasty comments and otherwise silence on that fic - and I am STILL floored at the sheer amount of positive feedback I've gotten. You don't know how happy every single comment I've gotten has made and still makes me. 'through the briar' was two months of work and a lot of headaches for me and for it to scratch an itch for so many people has been one of the highlights of my little 'career' as a fic writer. Genuinely, thank you so much for your love!!

Regarding sequels, I have written about some scenarios after 'through the briar' happens - here and here. I want to write out the immediate aftermath and that little escape scenario as little vignettes on here, it's on my list!! I am basically waiting for my muse to fully strike - right now, I'm still pre-occupied with getting through One Piece, so that might take a while 🙈 As for capture kill - I am currently working on a little Bill pwp - just a little thing, some years into the future with him - that should be done by tomorrow! Other than that, I have some thirsts/scenarios here, here and here. Both of these fic will probably not get a 'proper' sequel but I don't want to rule it out, I am known to finish WIPs that have been rotting away in my docs for three years 😭 I am however always open to write little blurbs and the like, feel free to ask for anything that might come to your mind!! 🤗 And thank you again for your sweet message, it means so much to me.

[adxmparriish]

Book recs?

hi! I can absolutely give you some 🖤

if we were villains by m.l.rio — favorite book of all time, it’s dark academia with some mystery and thriller elements. seven students who study shakespeare find themselves trapped up in a murder and it’s fantastic. the prose is to die for. I can’t properly explain how much this book means to me, it literally rewired my brain chemistry.

stalking jack the ripper series by kerri maniscalco — this is a 4 book series following a couple who perform autopsies and try to solve murders. the main couple is FANTASTIC and has one of my favorite fictional men of all time. the banter and love declarations are to die for. there is also plenty of angst and gothic atmosphere, too! all around amazing series, and do NOT forget to read the novella!

the folk of the air trilogy by holly black — I will never shut the fuck up about this series. wicked boy meets monster girl in a battle for the crown of elfhame and it’s fucking phenomenal. jude and cardan are one of my favorite fictional couples but don’t go into this series expecting a full blown romance. there’s a lot of political conflict with a romance splashed in, but when you do get those moments, boy… they’re juicy. enemies to lovers done right.

the raven cycle series by maggie stiefvater — codependent teenagers love each other so much it makes me sick. that’s basically it. oh, and one of them is doomed to kill her true love when she kisses him. oh, and there’s tarot and a dead welsh king and boys who bring things back from their dreams and a magic forest and a girl with hooves and just. read this? please?

these violent delights by micah nemerever — it’s hard to explain this book accurately but two boys find themselves so deeply obsessed with each other and wrapped up in their own game and it leads to absolute insanity. this book is dark though, so be warned. definitely check trigger warnings.

six of crows duology — fantastic books set in the world of “shadow and bone” about six teenagers on a heist. you don’t HAVE to read shadow and bone first but i’d recommend it. there are slight spoilers for that trilogy and elements you may not understand if you don’t. but I love these characters so much more and this story is amazing. there’s diversity and romance and tragedy and just!!!! so much!!!

the locked tomb series — these books are IMPOSSIBLE to explain but trust me when I say they are AMAZING. it’s got necromancy and love in its purest form and complex story arcs and impossible scenarios and HUMOR, SO MUCH HUMOR, and just. I can’t recommend this series enough. I will say though, prepare to be confused a lot until the writer finally lets it all come together, because that’s just how the books are. I promise it’ll all make sense.

[oasis-wasteland]

I posted 2,002 times in 2022

That's 233 more posts than 2021!

8 posts created (0%)

1,994 posts reblogged (100%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@merlinsbed

@nemainofthewater

@exuberantocean

@zenyeetaa

@cloysterbell

I tagged 274 of my posts in 2022

#goncharov - 17 posts

#unreality - 13 posts

#tua spoilers - 8 posts

#dracula daily - 6 posts

#nikita - 6 posts

#tua s3 spoilers - 5 posts

#omg this look for ken please - 4 posts

#ask game - 4 posts

#rip hunter - 4 posts

#love of my life - 3 posts

Longest Tag: 125 characters

#so now i know who to blame each time i am peacefully watching a show and have to hear a character say the word 'mansplaining'

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Ted Lasso, for the meme please!

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most): Ted Lasso

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped): Keeley, Roy, TRENT, Sam

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave): Nate the Great

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week): Sassy, Isaac

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave): Trent? Jamie? Do they fit the description?

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason): Ted Lasso, Beard

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell): if in a nice way: Beard, for funsies

2 notes - Posted March 8, 2022

#4

Rules: Tag some people you want to know better

Tagged by: @kalinara :))

Three ships: Rip Hunter/Miranda Coburn (/Gideon is also welcome), Michael/Nikita (/Ryan is also welcome to join them), Elektra Natchios/Matt Murdock

First ever ship: Cappie/Casey from Greek. I'm sure I've shipped someone before them but they were the first ones where I knew what shipping was.

Last Song: Ghost Towns - Radical Face

Currently Reading: These Violet Delights - Micah Nemerever

Currently Watching: The Untamed, while slowly making my way through Succession.

Currently Consuming: Coffee. At every point in time I was going to do this, the answer was Coffee.

Tagging: @nikita-mearss @mimeparadox @incendiaglacies @peeterparkers @yesmissbzzz

4 notes - Posted March 6, 2022

#3

Muscle Memory - Chapter 2

Joe's weeks gets progressivly worse as he navigates between figuring out the identity of the stranger and saving the city from itself. Caitlin has a breakthrough about their John Doe.

5 notes - Posted September 24, 2022

#2

Is there a Nikita discord out there or am I going to have to make one myself?

10 notes - Posted January 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

See the full post

15 notes - Posted January 10, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[low-budget-korra]

Comments on The L Word generation Q s02e08

-Already that Gini sex scene in the beginning of the episode? Talk about a good start for a episode

-I understand both Dani and Bette. And i bet the people who didn't watch the OG show will blame all on Bette, treating her as the villain because that's what they always do when Bette is just ... You know...being Bette.

And what pisses me off about this hate that her character is receiving is that they don't even stop a minute to try to understand how stressed she is with both Angie and the donor situation, and her job. Shit ain't easy for Bette these days but since her copying mechanism is different from other characters like Dani, it's like her pain ain't valid

-Pippa wait a goddamn minute damn. You understand this world just as much as Bette. Don't act like it's all Bette's fault when you know it ain't

-YESSS. Bette Porter and her "Fuck". I love hear that woman cursing

-Look at Sophie's face when Finley is talking. Okay hear me out. The only person Sophie really loves is herself.

She doesn't love Dani or Finley, however, she loves what they can give to her. Dani can give a more mature and stable life when Finley can give the full time attention.

The newbies are shitting on Bette Porter when the new Jenny is right here

-Oh look at that. Dani acting like Bette when stressed out and i bet no one will say a thing about it. Also Gigi i love you, you are perfect but you're being too needy

Yes you ain't totally wrong about it but that ain't the right time to talk about it.

-Shut the fuck up Dani's father. I love how Dani is decisive and just stand her ground

-Micah has game y'all

-Tom you shouldn't have shaved. And i didn't like this arc because people can used this Alice - Tom - Nat stuff to justify the whole "bissexual are sluts and will cheat on you" shit. Which is *surprised surprised* is bullshit. And disrespectful

-Okay Tom, you're being to nice with Alice. Stop creating unrealistic expectations on men tho. The bissexuals and straight can agree with that right? lmao

No shade, is just for all i hear about men from straight and bi friends...well, they def aren't nice as Tom. Only like 5 in 50 aren't trash

-Omg don't talk about Dana. I can't. Omg it's given me PTSD from that scene. Please people that care of yourself, i know heath care is expensive and it's not free in every country but please if you can, take care. Don't be the Dana to your Alice. As soon as you discover a decease, the more are your chances to get better.

God I'm crying

-Omg the show made me go from emotional crying to I'm pissed. Ah, and for the record, you know who make Finley start drink again? YOU SOPHIE. YOU DID. And instead of talking with her about it what you did? You just push her away, which make her go find the attention and caring on the alcohol because you, Sophie, is unable to give that to someone you claim you love

I still didn't get Jenny's hate (maybe cuz in my re-watch u didn't reach the part she goes ape shit) but i Sophie is terrible and i don't feel bad for hate her because she fucking deserve the hate, I'm sorry.

-The different between Dani and Bette is this. Dani is more open to have a heart to heart conversation and apologies. Bette is way more of passive aggressive or just straight up runaway from it.

-Damn Micah.

- Tess and Shane FINALLY AAAA.

What a beautiful scene

-Sophie and Finley is a TOXIC RELATIONSHIP.

Sophie push Finley to the alcohol right when she had a date with her but prefer spend the night with Dani, a few episodes back. Sophie blames Finley for shit that ain't her fault and keeps treating her like trash, demolishing her and make Finley feel like shit

"But Finley is a messy person" We know but she is a adult, she is capable.

What the actual fuck is that you are talking about Sophie? Drunken Finley ain't this monster, she actually is really chill when drunk.

Sophie is like "i love you" "you aren't enough" "look what you did" "hey i sorry" "you are awful"... She treats you like shit, and then she apologize (the "honeymoon phase when she is nice to you so you don't leave her from real) and after a while she treat you like shit again and the cycles continue

Now about the promo:

-I know Finley has lots of internalized trauma since season 1 and all she needs is someone who actually cares about her and not only care about what she can give to them

No, i don't buy this Sophie going after Finley because she did this before and guess what, she throw shit on Finley again

-They are low-key planing for Tibette come back right?

[allofthefeelings]

In your commentary on Stranger Things on Twitter, you mentioned the way the show presupposes allocisheterosexuality about El despite that she was fully removed from "normal girlhood" socialization most of her life. And yeah, I've had problems with that since s1. The show has an unfortunate tendency of treating her as Nerd Boy's Dream Girl rather than fully examining the reality and trauma of her experience.

Oh jeez, yeah.

If you don't follow me on Twitter you may not know that I kind of watched... all of Stranger Things? I'd finished the first three seasons of In Treatment, the new In Treatment wasn't starting yet, it was a whole THING.

Anyway.

I have been thinking about this a lot, because on the surface El should absolutely be my character. She's a kid, extraordinarily gifted, isolated and abused so her talents can be exploited, who figures out how to fight back. And there are parts of El's storyline that I really, really like. But I'm overall frustrated with her narrative, because... wait, this gets long. And has spoilers for all three seasons. And talks about Billy's plots so CW for multiple kinds of abuse narratives here!

First of all, the things done to Eleven don't make logistical sense. I am ALL IN on an evil governmental/science conglomerate kidnapping special children and torturing them into using their special powers against their enemies. Characters overcoming that is my catnip.

But for El to be useful, she needs to function as more than just a tape recorder! We see this when she mindwalks to people but lacks the ability to know what things mean- she doesn't know what Illinois is, for example, or why the girls with Billy might be screaming for non-terrible reasons.

(BILLY'S PLOT IS AN ABOMINATION, YOU DON'T PORTRAY A BULLY AS AN ABUSED KID AND THEN HAVE ADULT WOMEN WITH KIDS HIS AGE LUSTING AFTER HIM ONE EPISODE LATER. But that is a whole separate post.)

El not knowing what a friend or a promise is may make her interesting for the show, and interesting to a bunch of teen boys who've just discovered her, but it limits her usefulness to the evil government! Like, it's great she can crush a can with her mind and listen to people from any distance but if she doesn't understand what they're talking about, you have no guarantee she's going to come away with the important information, and then this poor child once again has a nosebleed for no fucking reason. It's painful and cruel to her, which I accept they don't care about, but it's also INEFFICIENT IF YOU'RE A MAD SCIENTIST. Like I get that evil scientists aren't great with the long game but this is shoddy evil science and that offends me.

ANYWAY.

They make El a very "born yesterday" character, but it's not consistent how. She can speak and understand others, she can perform tasks, she's very good at violence, she has a moral code established despite the evil scientists who were the only people she interacted with (who could have just... raised her with a moral code that fit theirs, no harm no foul? THEY'RE VERY BAD AT EVIL SCIENCING). She had a friend, Kali, but doesn't know what friends are. She understands parental figures- she calls Brenner "Papa"; she knows who "Mama" is- but her feelings about parental figures don't seem at all impacted by how "Papa" was abusive. All of this combines to make her feel unmoored, as a character; I don't have a baseline of how she's understanding the world, and because we perceive her through the boys, it's really hard to find firm footing.

And then season three. I get that what we see is a lot of El trying to figure out what she likes by trying on other people's preferences for size, and that makes sense, but we never see her growing, so much as adopting one person and then another and then another. As you mentioned me complaining about already, in season three her desires match perfectly with those of a stereotypical allocishet teen girl from an 80s movie. And yes, Stranger Things is an 80s movie pastiche, but the boys are allowed to move beyond that in terms of what they want; El doesn't. She wants to make out with her boyfriend with the door closed, even though this has no rebellious value when you weren't raised with these values to begin with, and the soundtrack to her mall trip (which Max even SAYS is about figuring out what she wants, not what other people want her to want) is Material Girl! LIKE SHE'S BEING MATERIALISTIC RATHER THAN FIGURING OUT WHAT SHE WANTS!

(ALSO THIS SHOW IS CLEARLY LEANING ON HAVING AN ADULT AUDIENCE, SO PLEASE STOP SHOWING KIDS MAKING OUT, IT'S VERY DISQUIETING.)

Let's also talk about how the scenes with possessed!Billy kidnapping El are absolutely chock full of rape imagery, when El is a child, Billy is shown as abused by his dad and abusive to Max and kidnapping his fellow lifeguard and objectified by all the women at the pool, and yet El's fear doesn't reflect that. Even if El doesn't know pop culture, she clearly knows danger, and it's like the show doesn't recognize that even a young teen girl is aware of predatory behaviors because it's impossible to live in the world- even in a sheltered world limited mostly to an evil lab and a cabin in the woods with a TV- without knowing.

MOREOVER, El exists less as person than as a deus ex machina; every season, things get dangerous and she has to hurt herself (those constant bloody noses cannot be pleasant) rescue everyone else over and over while no one appreciates her. She wants to stop the bad men but we don't have a grip on exactly why she knows they're bad (besides trying to make her kill an animal, but I come back to why does she have the morality to know she shouldn't? and how does she know anyone else in the world is better?) and while I actually am fully on-board with a kid being raised to see herself as a tool lacking self-worth because she was never taught to value herself, the narrative should be contesting that! And it's not! And I don't understand!

All of this works if you only see El through the boys' lens, and only see El as an accessory to their story. But for El to be a character, rather than a nerd's wet dream, she has to have her own motivations and her own code. We get tantalizing glimpses of it- more from her time with Max than with anyone else- and we see her comforted (by Joyce and by Hop at different times, also DON'T GET ME STARTED ON HOPPER IN S3 IT IS A PROBLEM), but I feel like the show wants her to be mysterious to us because she's mysterious to Mike and his friends, without bothering to make that mystery consistent enough to root her.

I want El to be my character so badly, because she has all the pieces I normally gravitate to- and let's be honest here, River Tam and Natasha Romanoff and Micah Sanders don't exactly get fully fleshed out in their canons either- but she doesn't fit together for me. They've simultaneously given us too much and not enough, so she's a series of tropes that I can't Frankenstein together into a story for her that takes into account both her knowledge and her lack-of-knowledge but doesn't explicitly reject pieces of canon we've been given, which were supplied more in service of Mike's story than of El's.

And that makes Robin, Erica, and Kali all far more interesting characters to me, despite every instinct I have that El really really really SHOULD be who I gravitate to.

[neon-junkie]

Duality - Chpts 1,2&3

Summary: There's a handful of things you hate, like the men who continue to pester you at the Saloon after you've told them no, or the way strangers look at you when you decide to wear pants. But the one thing you hate that most is Micah Bell. But if you hate him so much, then why are you allowing him to wrap his hand around your neck as he grinds his crotch down against yours? Is he using you? or are you using him?

Pairing: Micah Bell x f!Reader

Word Count: 8837 (ongoing work) 

Rating: NSFW Warnings: Depictions of Violence (Reader is fine)

Tags: Dead Dove: Do not eat, Fights/Arguments, Slow burn, Hate sex, Enemies with benefits, Enemies to lovers, Pity sex, Vaginal sex, Outdoor sex, Creampies, Blood kink, Knives, Choking, Breath play, Rough/Manhandling, Heists & Robberies, Nipple sucking/licking, Making out, Sloppy kisses, Dirty talking, Grinding.

Notes: This fic was inspired by the gang of children that recently decided to start hurdling abuse at me simply because I enjoy Micah character. If he bad then why he make my pussy go brr?? I ain't ever gonna stop writing for him, somebody's gotta love the ratman so I guess I'll volunteer as tribute. This piece is inspired by @deputytrash​ and their work called ‘Micah Bell is a Rat Bastard,’ that I can’t actually link here because Tumblr hates links:))) so please go stalk them for the original fic. shoutout to all the other Micah fuckers out there; we're kinda fucked up but hey, we ain't hurting anybody<3

[Chapter 4]

Some men are born with the purest of hearts; they're full of good intentions, kindness, willingness to help others. They want to see the world go round, they enjoy watching the days go by with their loved ones around them. They want nothing more than love and equality, happiness for everyone, and they strive to achieve that. Those men, such as Arthur, are ones that you obviously enjoy for such reasons, and you enjoy watching them on the sideline, smiling at the way they make everyone happy. You've tried dating those men before and something felt... off about them, almost fake; you wish to enjoy such relationships with the purest of men, but you've never been able to sit in that saddle comfortably. The leather smells off and something constantly jabs at your tailbone. It's fine, honestly, to not sit comfortably in that saddle. Others can enjoy those men, ones who deserve them, ones who are just as pure and wholesome as those men they seek out. You're happy for them, you enjoy seeing them enjoy each others company, they really do deserve it. Only that leaves you with the problem of 'who the hell am I meant to fall for?' There are others who are sometimes split down the middle, with good and bad intentions, men such as Dutch who eventually crack under so much pressure, as expected. But these men have never really taken your fancy either. You curse the Gods for creating you with no intentions to seek out those pure of heart, or even slightly pure of heart. Why can't you be considered normal? You're a good person, yet you don't long for someone as good as you. 

Instead, those who have only ever walked the darker path take your fancy. Those men who have no good intentions in them, who only look out for themselves and sometimes (but rarely) the few people closest to them, if you're stupid enough to get close to them, to begin with. You enjoy the challenge, you enjoy taming the beast, being the one person that someone so wild can trust. It's a generic trope that you've read in romance novels where the princess falls for the villain, but they always seem to have the happiest of endings? and the stories themselves are so juicy, so rich and full of layers. The generic happy couple trope gets so boring, nothing to read into. But if you're given a story about a well-layered villain who softens out within time then you'll eat said story off the dirt if you have to, it's always so rich and fulfilling, though you never expected to end up in one. "Which book are you reading today?" Mary-Beth asks you as she joins you on the beach, leaning back against the log you're leaning against. You do miss sitting on the cliff at Horseshoe Overlook, peering up at the landscape whenever your eyes need a break from being so engulfed in whatever book you were reading. But there's something just as good as looking out at the water, hearing the waves lapping against the shore as you read, enjoying the river breeze on a hot Lemoyne day. "The same as last time, that one centered around the villain," you tell her, your eyes momentarily peeking up to watch as she sits down beside you. "Still? Oh, you and your dark fiction," Mary-Beth replies with a laugh. She'd given your book that nickname after you explained the plot to her. Mary-Beth, as wholesome and pure as she is, couldn't quite understand why you'd get so engulfed in a book where the princess falls for the villain, completely ignoring the stud hero and running off with the bad guy instead. After explaining how layered the villain was, and how his actions were the result of past trauma, she somewhat understood but decided that she's happy with her sappy romance novels. That's understandable, your taste isn't for everyone, and you'd both agreed on that. "Like I said, I just find it more interesting," you reply, your eyes trailing over to the landscape. "Which book have you got?" you ask. "Oh, the same still. I've almost finished it! The poor man in it has finally been turned away from that woman, though they're both in love," she replies. "But from what you've told me, she's not exactly... the best person in the world?" you ask. "I guess not. Maybe I am into a little bit of dark fiction then, hm?" Mary-Beth questions with a soft laugh, finally opening her book to pick up from where she left off. "Maybe-" you begin to speak, but the sound of shouting draws your attention back to camp. You and Mary-Beth peer over your shoulders to watch the commotion in the distance. Ugh. It's Micah again, screaming at Bill for being so kind to the poor dog Jack had found, Cain. He's hollering away, something about not being soft on strays, that they'll only follow you around for food, whatever. You try to hold in your laughter when Micah does the last thing you'd expect, literally barking at Bill before storming off. "That man sure is evil," Mary-Beth comments. "I still ain't sure why Dutch allows him to follow us around, a bit like Cain really," she frowns, turning her gaze away. "He is, funny that he can't see just how much of a dog he is," you laugh along, returning your focus back to your book. "Has he bothered you again recently?" she questions, knowing that your last run-in with him was only a few days ago. "No, he ain't spoke to me, he ain't even looked at me." "Good, probably because he's still got that black eye you gave him," Mary-Beth replies, trying to hold back on her laughter. "Well, he did deserve it." Micah had pestered you a few days ago, stirring up some shit simply because he was bored. You were sat by yourself in camp, playing a solo game of solitaire whilst the wind was quiet, your cards not blowing away for once. He waltzed over, as always, looking like he owned the place; he only acts that way because he sucks up to Dutch, a bit of a teachers' pet, though he's definitely never stepped foot in a school. "Hey," Micah says to you. Well, you were unsure if he was speaking to you as your head was down, focused on the cards, so Micah quickly snapped when you didn't reply. "I said hey. You deaf?" he asks, lightly tapping the back of your shoulder. You let out a long sigh as you roll your eyes and look up. "I didn't know you were speaking to me, Micah," you reply. "Well, who else would I be speaking to, doll? There ain't anyone else around here," Micah says with a laugh, waving his hands about to gesture that nobody was nearby. "I can see that now," you sigh. You begin to put your cards away, knowing that if Micah's here then there's no way you'll be able to play this game in peace. Whatever, you were stumped anyway, considering calling this game quits, and Micahs appearance had encouraged you to do so. "What're you doing?" Micah questions. "I was playing solitaire," you reply, shuffling the cards back together and returning them to their container, an old mints tin that you found fits the cards much better than their old paper box. "And why have you packed up, hm? Is it 'cause I'm here?" Micah asks, knowing the answer. "It is," you say as you stand and put the tin in your pocket, beginning to walk off. The last person you ever want to talk to is Micah, but it seems he really wants to talk to you as he begins to follow you. "Where're you going? I ain't that bad. I know we don't exactly get along but you can't fault me for trying to right these wrongs with you," Micah begins, playing the white knight card as always, batting his lashes as if he hasn't made a handful of remarks towards you in the past, ensuring there's a thick barrier between the two of you. "I ain't interested in making friends with you, Micah. Now leave me be," you snap back, picking up the pace as you storm past Dutch's tent, hoping he'd pick up on the small commotion but his head is buried deep in his current Evelyn Miller book. "Such mean words coming from such a pretty face," Micah pouts, still on your trail, letting out his generic laugh. "Wouldn't you rather have friends than enemies?" "I'd rather have nothing to do with you, Micah," you tell him as you come to a halt, stopping in the dead center of camp. If Micah won't leave you alone then hopefully someone will step in, as their eyes had begun to peer over to the commotion; even Dutch has put his book down. "Easy there, sweetheart," Micah coos with his generic laugh. He goes to speak again but you're quick to cut him off. "I ain't your sweetheart, Micah. Quit calling me those names," you huff. "Of course, you ain't. I like a bit of fire in my women but you're just a bit too reckless for my taste," Micah tells you, his tone slowly turning to frustrated. He's quit the innocent act, lowering his hands as he had them raised as he followed you throughout the camp. If he can't win you over then he'll ensure you never even slightly consider him a friend, beginning to insult you to burn whatever was left of that bridge. "Good, I'd hate to be your taste. What an unlucky woman she must be for the likes of you to have eyes on her." Micah lets out another laugh as he takes a step closer to you, a little too close, and you're quick to cut him off before he can open his mouth. "Back off, Micah. Don't you try and get close to me," you order him. "Why not, hm? You scared someone is finally gonna put a woman like you back in her-" That's enough. Without hesitation, you clench your fist and swing for that vermin of a man, if you can even be kind enough to call him a man to begin with. You were aiming for his nose but hit his cheekbone instead, which is just as good as his eye had swollen up from the impact. Micah stumbled back and hit the ground with the most satisfying thud you'd ever heard, the sound still making you smile whenever you think about it. You didn't stick around much after that, burning the image of Micah lying on the floor clutching his eye into your memory before turning heel and marching off, wandering off into the trees so you could cool yourself off and devilishly admire your bruised knuckles. You refused to bandage them up, even after Charles had practically begged you, but you were eager to show off your trophy, even flaunting it at Micah from a distance whenever he came into your line of sight. His eyes hadn't met yours since, but you could feel his burning glare on you whenever you two were within ten feet of each other. You'd even overheard him attempting to bitch about you to Kieran, who simply nodded along to prevent himself from getting pulled into this mess. Needless to say, you and Micah do not get along. There's a handful of camp members that don't get along, but your burning hatred for each other seems to stand out the most. You're always eager to step in whenever Micahs attempting to chew someone's ear off, and he always gives you that same laugh as he attempts to mock you, but he often turns heel and storms away, calling you a bitch or whatever petty insult he has on his mind. But since that interaction, Micah has stayed well clear of you. Dutch probably told him to stop pestering you after you'd almost knocked his lights out, though you doubt that as Dutch ended up doing something that only seemed to make your 'friendship' worse. ----------- Another day, another dollar, or whatever the civilized phrase is. It's a quote you've heard within towns and cities, something bosses drill into the minds of their workers to stop them from realizing that they're being used as workhorses for less than pennies. At least out here you can work on your own terms, your only boss is Dutch and he always ensures that everybody gets a fair cut. Why slave away in a factory when you can rob some folk that needs robbing and make a few hundred off them? Dutch has a heist planned for you today, one that he says needs a woman touch. Karen is the only other gunwoman in the camp but Dutch has told you that she's a little too reckless for the job. Dutch knows that Sadie is also a gunwoman but she's still in mourning, arguing with Pearson every so often, but she isn't ready to step up to that rank yet.  "And that's why I need you for this job. It's genric and old fashioned of us, but there's a payroll heading up into Rhodes and I was thinking you could play the damsel in distress, hunched over at the roadside, pouting sweetly as you ask them for a ride into town," Dutch tells you outside his tent, a week or so after your last run-in with Micah.  "And if they don't stop?" you question.  "Why would they not stop? A pretty lady such as yourself asking for a ride? When they're already heading that way? They must be some cold-hearted folk in order to turn down such a simple request," Dutch explains.  "What will you and the others be doing?"  "We'll be hiding nearby, waiting for that opportunity to rob them. Once you're on board then they should hand over the cash, I don't see why they'd want a poor innocent woman to be hurt. Hosea will be waiting in Rhodes to bring you back to camp, and you won't need your guns for the job. A kind, working woman such as yourself wouldn't carry them anyway," Dutch replies with a grin, stubbing out his cigar with the toe of his shoes.  The plan seems simple enough, and what have you got to lose? So, you agree to the heist, heading into your tent so you can change your appearance to look like the average working woman. You dress in a simple skirt and shirt, your hair neat and your makeup simple, just how the women in Rhodes dress.  Arthur gives you a ride to the location, your horse staying back at camp, as well as your guns. You feel a little uneasy heading out of camp without them, but the boys are hiding behind what's left of a wall nearby. You overheard Arthur protesting with Dutch, saying they shouldn't be robbing folk so close to camp, but Dutch assured them that this would be fine.  Dutch has brought along Arthur and Lenny, and unfortunately, Micah, who still hasn't spoken a word to you, but his eye is now unfortunately better. Dutch didn't even mention to you that Micah would be coming along, seeing as your paths weren't meant to cross. This was meant to be a simple holdup job after all, only this gang seems to be cursed as things always go wrong.  You're walking along the road, acting as if you're exhausted. The sound of a wagon approaching can be heard, and you peer over your shoulder to see it coming into view. You begin to wave your arms, signaling for them to stop, and thankfully, they do.  "Are you alright, Miss?" one of the men questions, the one driving the wagon. There are two more men on horseback behind them, not many guns for a wagon that's carrying payroll.  "I do apologize to ask such a request but my horse bucked me a while back, I'm only trying to head into town. Are you heading that way? Would you be able to give me a ride?" you question. You play out the usual body language, slouched shoulders, batting your lashes, and pouting your bottom lip. This is a mans world, after all, but you know exactly how to play the game. The driver and the shotgun speak to themselves quietly, clearly bickering about the fact that they're carrying payroll, but they eventually come to an agreement.  "You're welcome to climb on the back of one of the horses, though we can't let you on the wagon, Miss," he replies. Well, that's good enough, at least you're still somewhat of a hostage. "Oh, thank you! I really appreciate it!" you smile sweetly, heading over to the nearest hired gunmen and climbing on the back, loosely holding onto his shirt as you get comfortable on the horse's rear.  They return to their journey, barely making it a few meters down the road when one of those slimy Lemoyne Raiders appears from behind a boulder and attempts to hold them at gunpoint. Your eyes peer over to where the gang is hiding and thankfully, Dutch steps in, one gun pointed at the driver and the other at the rival gang member. You're still unsure on what Lemoyne Raiders are. Inbred? Wannabe military? Either way, they're stupid enough to fire without warning, and completely miss Dutch, though Dutch doesn't miss him. The plan goes to shit and you're caught in the middle of the gang war, your gang and the Lemoyne Raiders fighting each other, as well as the wagon.  The gunman that you were holding onto slouches over his saddle, a bullet ripping through his side, thankfully missing you. You think Arthur had shot him, but either way, you're pushing his body off and stealing his horse, riding out from the commotion. What help are you now without your guns? It's best that you run away and fast. As you near the camp, you notice a small group of white hats approaching round the bend - lawmen, so you decide to keep riding forward towards Braithwait Manor, dipping off into the trees before they can notice you. You'll find somewhere to hide out until nightfall, riding through the thick forest until you find a shack down south, close to Shady Belle, but far enough from the commotion so the law shouldn't tread down here.  The stolen horse is hitched by a tree and you're about to head inside, but the sound of hooves approaching startles you. You hide behind the tree, not providing much cover, but hopefully enough so you can decide how to approach the incoming stranger. If it's a lawman then you can simply burst into tears whilst saying that the horse bolted and you couldn't steer it up into Rhodes, and if it's a fellow gang member then you'll be fine. Well, it is a gang member, just you were hoping for anybody but Micah. He slows Baylock to a halt as you come into his line of sight, stepping out from behind the tree looking like an angry kitten.  "You alright?" Micah asks, swinging his leg over the saddle and hopping off his mount.  "Go away, go find somewhere else to hide. Shoo," you wave your hands at him, only making Micah laugh instead. "What's a matter? Can't I hide here with you?" he questions as he approaches you.  "No, you can't. Go bother someone else, you're the last person I'd ever want to hide from the law with," you huff. Micah isn't budging, he continues to approach you until he's stood in front of you, grinning from ear to ear as he lets out that awful chuckle of his.  "You don't mean that. Besides, how're you gonna defend yourself without your guns, huh?" Micah questions, resting his hands on his gunbelt. "Well, you know that I can swing a punch, can't you, Micah?" you tease, giving him a smug smile which wipes the grin off his face, turning into a frown.  "And here I was just tryna look out for you. Nasty thing, aren't you?" Micah spits.  "I am, and I ain't welcoming to you, Micah," you huff again, resting your hands on your hips.  "Now, I'm gettin' real sick of the way you talk to me, girl. I ain't been nothin' but nice to you," Micah tuts, taking another step towards you. He's pressed up far too close to your chest, puffing his own out as his icy blue eyes scowl into yours. "You may be a big girl in the eyes of Dutch, but you ain't to me."  "I don't care, Micah. I don't need your approval, nor your company, so scram!"  This time, Micah goes for you, reaching out to grip ahold of your arm. He takes a firm grasp of you but before you can find out what he was planning on doing, you're pushing him away, shoving him back by the chest. He stumbles backwards but doesn't slump to the ground, catching his own fall as he glares at you. His death glare makes your face turn sour and you begin to foresee that one of you isn't going to make it back to camp. Micah lunges for you again, grabbing onto your shoulders as he begins to try and tackle you to the ground. You manage to shove him off and land a punch to the same cheekbone, only it's not enough to stop him. He continues to fight you, eventually managing to shove you to the floor. He tries to climb onto you, attempting to pin you to the ground but you land a swift kick to his baby balls. He lets out a choke as his body goes limp and you jump at the opportunity to shove him onto his back, pinning him down instead.  Micah attempts to grab onto you but you're quick, taking his own knife from its holster and pinning it beneath Micahs chin. He stops, freezing up and removing his hands from you, lying in the dirt with his swollen eye locked onto yours. There's silence, no words spoken from either of you, just heavy panting and the sound of the trees rustling. Micah licks his lips, tasting the blood that has trailed down from his nose, and eventually speaks.  "Go on, girl. Do it," he tells you, his Adam's apple bouncing against the blade as he speaks. You don't reply, so Micah jumps down your throat again. "I said do it! Show me what a big girl you are," he says with a laugh. "If I am to kill you then I'd rather do it with my bare hands," you spit at him, pressing the knife sharply on his neck. From the way Micah attempts to flinch back, you're certain you've managed to cut him. Good, he deserves it.  "Do it then. Go on, get rid of me already. Just do everyone a favour," Micah replies, his hands raising yet again, doing that generic innocent pose even as he has a knife held to his throat. As much as you'd love to, you know the consequences for killing other camp members. You could say he died in combat but Dutch knows that Micah can take on a bunch of Lemoyne Raiders with his eyes closed. Plus, it's far too suspicious for you to be the one breaking the 'bad' news. But you might as well scare some sense into Micah, maybe choke him unconscious then bail back to camp before he can wake. Hopefully, he'll finally get it into his thick skull to stay away from you, though you doubt it, but at least you'll have fun.  You remove Micahs own knife from his neck, stabbing it into the earth beside his head. He watches you with wide eyes, attempting to look at his knife but you grip onto his throat. You know how to choke someone to death, and you know how to choke someone unconscious, so you go for the second option and tighten your grip under his jawline, avoiding his windpipe so that he doesn't stop breathing.  He lets out a choked exhale as you begin jabbing your fingers into his throat, pushing more than hard enough to eventually knock his lights out. You know you look a mess, covered in dirt with scruffed up hair, a glare on your face that could easily kill a man; Micah looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, keeping his gaze locked onto yours as he attempts to breathe. You can hear the pressure on his throat with every breath, his lips remaining parted, blood still trickling from his nose, and his eye swelling up more by the second. His clothes are just as dirty as yours, his hat has fallen off his head a long time ago, his white pants are almost brown from rolling in the dirt, and his red shirt is missing a few buttons from where you've grabbed him.  Micahs parted lips quickly turn into a grin as his eyes begin to fall shut. You've never seen him pull a face like this, but he looks... pleasurable. He somehow has enough energy to reach up and grip onto the waistband of your skirt, trailing his fingertips along the band before settling each hand firmly on your hips. He's... enjoying this, isn't he? Your thoughts are confirmed when Micah opens his eyes again; his pupils are blown, wide and full of lust, gazing up at you like a piece of meat, ready to pounce on you (if he could.) You want to feel sick. Why don't you feel sick? Why isn't your stomach turning at the sight of Micah taking pleasure in your attempt to kill him? You push down harder on his neck, wishing you were gripping onto his windpipe instead. His smile eventually fades away, his eyes rolling shut as he lets out slower muffled breaths. His grip on your hips falls limp and you know he's finally unconscious.  This was meant to be the part where you run, heading back to camp before he can wake, praying he never even looks at you ever again. But you remove your hand from his throat, noticing how his body twitches as he begins to breaths properly again, and using the same hand that you just choked him with, you land a harsh slap right across his face. It's loud and sharp enough that it echoes throughout the forest, startling the horses and scaring a few birds away. You instantly regret your decision, your hand throbbing from how hard you slapped him, but the way Micah jolts awake gives you a sickly satisfaction.  He begins coughing, propping himself up on his elbows as he attempts to catch his breath. You don't move off him, sitting back on your knees, his legs beneath yours, watching in delight as he returns to the conscious word. Micah lies back down, his deep breaths eventually turning into a chuckle as his eyes meet yours.  "I knew you were just like me," Micah says with a sniff, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. His nose is still bleeding, turning his moustache red, and now his cheek as he's smeared his own blood across his face. "I knew you were sick..." he laughs.  "I ain't sick, Micah," you frown.  "If you ain't then you won't enjoy this-"  Micah somehow has enough energy to flip your bodies over, pinning you down to the ground, narrowly missing his knife that is still jabbed into the dirt. You attempt to push him off, trying to kick him in the balls again but he's pinned you down as well as you had pinned him down. He does exactly what you feared he'd do, wrapping his own rough hand around your neck, pressing on those spots under your jawline that you unfortunately enjoy.  You try and fight it, attempting to gulp down air, attempting to push him off. But the more you fight him, the more he holds you down, and the more you find yourself enjoying it.  "Give in to it, sweetheart. Just let it happen," he tells you, the words that you didn't want to hear, but only because they're sickly yet tempting.  Micah adjusts his grip and finally hits the nail in the coffin, your mind turning cloudy, the blood pulsating through your brain. That feeling in your stomach begins to burn, trailing down your body and making your pussy clench. You hate this man so much, yet you're allowing him to do this to you. "Atta girl," Micah praises you as you stop fighting him, letting your eyes shut and your mouth part.  You're weak enough for Micah to shift his weight, parting your thighs with his knees and sitting between them after he bunches your skirt up. One hand remains on your neck whilst the under sneaks underneath your waist, pulling your hips up onto his knees. His crotch pushes against yours, his hand trailing over your clothed thigh, moving up to your knee as he adjusts your legs so they're wrapped around his waist. For some reason, you cross your ankles, only encouraging him to grind his crotch against yours, rutting his hard-on against your pussy.  The mewl that escapes your lips is definitely accidental, but Micah tilts his head up to let out a hum of approval as he watches the colour continue to drain from your face. "Such a pretty sound coming from that pretty face of yours. You're goin' pale tho, darlin'. Least you ain't still spittin' venom at me," Micah smirks. The blood from his nose drips down onto your own face, painting your cheek, and the sight of his blood on you makes his pupils turn wide again, licking his lips as he finally removes his hand from your throat.  You gasp, gulping down air, letting out a few coughs as you manage to fill your lungs back up. Micah barely gives you enough time to come back to reality before he's crashing his lips against yours, pinning your hands on either side of your head, grinding his crotch down hard against yours. You let out a whimper as he manages to brush his crotch perfectly against your clit, making him chuckle against your lips as he kisses you. Are you kissing him back? Unfortunately so, but only because the taste of his blood on his lips is making your arousal grow, and he's grinding against you far too perfectly to ignore.  You eventually lap away at his blood, his nosebleed finally coming to a halt, and the feeling of his prickly moustache becomes more and more prominent. It's far too annoying for you to make out with him and ignore it, and it eventually irritates you to a point that you break the kiss.  "What'cha stopping for?" Micah pouts, halting his grinding for the moment. "Your 'stache is too long, it's itchy," you tell him.  "Well, I'll make sure it's trimmed for next time," Micah replies as he rolls his eyes. "There ain't gonna be a next time, Micah," you scowl back.  "Oh, that so?" Micah chuckles, doubting your claim. "Well, I'll just have to make this worthwhile," he informs you.  Micah moves his hands off your wrists, sitting up on his knees and pulling his knife out of the ground. He wipes the dirt off on his jeans then grips onto your undergarments, pulling the fabric away from your skin so he can slice down the crotch, ripping apart the garment and leaving a large hole right in the middle of them. "Micah!" you snap as you sit up on your elbows. "I'll buy you a new pair," Micah monotonously replies, a large lack of sympathy in his voice. You could have sworn he rolled his eyes as well. He holsters his knife and rips apart the hole even more, almost ripping the garment in two, exposing your pussy for his pleasure. Micah hums in appreciation as he gazes at the sight, pushing your thighs apart as he dips his head down and spits onto your folds. You'd be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it, and Micah picks up on the glisten in your eyes as he straightens his back up and begins to unfasten his pants, leaving his gunbelt on the ground beside you.  Micah pulls out his cock, an average looking one, rock hard and flushed pink at the tip. You're surprised that his pubes are neatly trimmed, just as dirty blonde as his hair, but he keeps his pubes neater for whatever reason. He ruts his cock over your folds, slicking himself up with his spit and your juices; to say you aren't wet is also a lie, you've been soaking the second he put his hand around your throat.  Micah finally pushes into you, slow and steady, letting out an "ooh" once he's fully sheathed inside of you. "It's always tighter if I don't finger you," he comments, licking his lips as he moves his hands underneath each knee, spreading your legs apart as far as he wants. Why are you allowing this man to fuck you? You're not sure, though you don't regret it, especially when he begins to thrust into you, surprising you with the way he rolls his hips, the tip of his cock hitting that spot inside of you with every thrust. If someone had told you this morning that you'd end up spending the evening with Micah Bell thrusting inside of you, after the two of you had had a fight and ended up aroused by it, then you probably would have punched them too after informing them that they're drunk. But here you are, allowing Micah to fuck you senseless, pounding you into the dirt as he lets out surprisingly pleasant sounds. "Shit!" you gasp as Micah shifts his weight, moving his hands off your knees to wrap around your waist. He pulls you up into his lap, lifting your ass off the floor and angling your body perfectly so he's directly hitting your g-spot with every roll of his hips. Micah's fucking you like a rabbit, fast and unforgiving, eager to make your walls tighten around him so he can fill you up with his cum.  Micah begins to bare his teeth, hissing through them as he pounds you. You're a moaning mess beneath him, not holding back on the volume of your moans as nobody is nearby, and your volume level is filling Micahs ego more and more by the second. "That's a good girl," he tells you, his hazy eyes meeting yours. "I always knew you'd be a good fuck, the feisty ones always are," he chuckles.  You roll your eyes at his comment, making him laugh instead. Ugh. That stupid laugh of his, the one he always drags out only because he knows it gets on everyone's nerves. You think fast, moving one hand back onto his throat to cut that dreadful sound out. His lips remain parted, slightly smiling as he continues to fuck you, enjoying that irritated glisten to your eyes. You tighten your grip on his throat, forcing a choked moan from Micahs lips. Micah's already hunched over you but you pull him down to your level, speaking right against his lips as you order him to "fuck me harder." "With pleasure," Micah manages to reply, gasping and straightening his back the second you let go of his throat. Micah keeps one arm underneath your waist, holding you firmly on his lap, whilst the other moves between your legs. His hand rests on your stomach, his thumb moving down to begin massaging your clit, flicking the bud in circles, his cock throbbing every time your muscles begin to shake. He's returned to letting out moans, followed by the occasional grunt through gritted teeth. You've seen Micah come undone before, you've seen that feral look in his eyes as he loses his cool and guns down an army of people. But this? This was a different look, just as feral but fueled by a mixture of lust and spite. Is he just using you for a fuck? Yes, but you're doing the same with him. And do you think you'll end up fucking him again? Possibly, but only if you can watch the life drain from his face again. It's sickeningly arousing, but Micah seems to enjoy it too. "You're gonna make me cum," you sigh, your thigh muscles beginning to shake, your eyes scrunching shut as your head rolls back in the dirt. "I know," Micah confidently replies, rubbing his thumb even firmer against your clit. What a cocky piece of shit, though you admire the confidence. You can't believe you're moaning his name as you orgasm, panting and shaking, wrapping your legs even tighter around Micahs waist as he pushes his cock deep inside of you and earns his own release. His hands grip onto your hips, his forehead eventually slumping on your chest as he pants and groans, filling you up with god knows how many months worth of cum, maybe longer, depending on whoever else has been stupid enough to sleep with him.  Micah eventually straightens his back and pulls out of you, letting your legs slip from around his waist as you untangle your body from his. He looks debauched, his hair and clothes scruffy and dirty, not to mention the dried blood smeared across his face and moustache. You're certain you look just as bad, spending your evening rolling about in the dirt with the man you hate the most. Hate? Or hated? as you somewhat like the sight of Micah like this. Maybe you could tolerate him under these terms, and only under these terms. You attempt to sort your appearance out as you stand up, stretching your legs, hearing your knees click after being bent for so long. Micah does the same as he pulls himself up, tucking his cock away then picking his hat up. He whistles for Baylock who had wandered off into the forest, probably not wanting to be around... that. The horse you'd stolen has managed to unhitch itself and disappear, and you honestly don't blame them, but that means the only way back is hitching a ride off Micah or walking for an hour.  "Looks like you're riding with me," Micah tells you. "I don't want to be seen trailing into camp with you, not when we both look like this," you tell him as he mounts Baylock.  "How's about I drop you off on the edge of camp then spend a few hours away? Would that make you happy?" Micah offers, holding out his hand at the same time.  "It would," you tell him, swatting his hand away and climbing up onto Baylock on your own terms. "So, you'll let me fuck you but won't even take my hand?" Micah chuckles as he clicks his tongue, letting Baylock go at a soft pace as you ride side-saddle.  "Yep, and don't forget that you owe me new underwear," you remind him.  "Oh, I won't forget to buy you some new panties, Miss. I'll buy you a whole set of lingerie if it means I get to cut it off your body," Micah teases but you know he's serious.  "If that's what you want," you reply with a shrug.  "You'd let me?" he questions, peering over his shoulder at you.  "I would," you reply. For some reason, you lick your thumb and attempt to wipe some of the dried blood from his cheek. Maybe the sight bothers you, but Micah doesn't seem to mind as he lets you clean him up, his eyes occasionally flicking onto the road.  "You wanna give me a kiss when you're done with cleaning me up?" Micah asks with a smirk.  "No," you frown, pushing his face away from yours. He laughs as he looks forward, returning his focus back to driving.  You and Micah don't speak another word on the short journey back, apart from a "thanks," from you as you slide off Baylock. He drops you on the edge of the forest, letting you walk down the path back into Clemens Point. You manage to sneak back into the camp; the only person who saw you in your state was Charles who simply said "I won't ask," when you gave him a look that said 'please don't.'  You feel much better once you've cleaned yourself up and got cozy in bed, though your body aches from fucking in the dirt, and you're almost certain you're going to have bruises around your neck by the time morning is here. But the fresh memory of having hate sex with Micah only seems to arouse you again; just like Micah said, you are sick, just as sick as him. But if this unspoken arrangement is a good way of letting out anger then why not continue it?  --------------- It's been a week since your accidental encounter with Micah. He's still not replaced your underwear, nor has he spoken a word to you, but you've picked up on those disgustingly arousing glances he sends you from across the camp. You've been tempted to chew his ear out about not paying you back yet, but he's not been in camp often, and when he has been in camp, it's been during the day and around others. The bastard knows what he's doing, and he definitely knows that you're still angry that he hasn't repaid you yet. You've been assigned guard duty tonight, doing lap after lap around the outskirts of the camp until 3am, which is when you can tap Bill awake and send him on his way to take over. Well, 3am is here and that's exactly what you're doing, prodding Bill awake and handing him the shotgun.  You somehow didn't notice that Baylock had appeared amongst the horses, but you do notice that distinct white hat on the edge of camp. Micahs stood on the beach, looking out at the water with his arms crossed, a cigarette between his fingers. Finally, the opportunity to chew his ear off. You stroll over, ensuring nobody else is awake, not wanting to question why you're eagerly approaching the man you despise.  "Micah," you greet as you stand next to him.  "There she is, just the girl I was looking for," Micah greets you as he exhales his cigarette smoke.  "You ain't looking for me, Micah. You're stood here having a smoke," you roll your eyes.  "I was hoping I would have fucked that attitude out of you. Seems I ain't fucked you hard enough," he says with a laugh. You peer over your shoulder, reminding yourself that nobody is awake, nor nearby, but you don't want to risk your chances. "We don't talk about that in camp, alright?" you threaten. "Fine, whatever you want," Micah shakes his head as he finishes off his cigarette, flicking it onto the floor and stomping it out. You're about to begin questioning him on your missing underwear but he begins to walk off, heading further along the beach.  "Where are you going?" you scowl as you follow him.  "Over here so I can sit down. Was gonna ask if you're joining me but it seems you are," he says with a laugh, leaning back against a large boulder. You frown at him but settle beside him, turning your attention to him again.  "I only came over here to ask you-"  "-s'on your bedroll," Micah tells you.  "What?" you question.  "That new underwear I promised, I've just placed it on your bedroll whilst you were on guard duty. Plus a little something extra to make up for how long you've waited for it," Micah answers, his eyes fixated on the water.  "Hmm..." you ponder, unsure if you believe him.  "What? Don't you trust me?" Micah questions as he finally looks over at you.  "Not at all," you scowl again.  "Well, you'll see that I'm telling the truth sooner or later. Go check now if you want, I don't care," he shrugs.  You stare at him again, trying to look for any signs of lying, but he gives you none; his nose doesn't twitch, his eyes stay glued to yours, he doesn't rub the back of his neck. Micah is probably telling the truth, knowing that you'll whack him over the head with a bottle next time you see him if he lies to you.  "See, told you I ain't lying," Micah snickers as he looks back out over the water. You don't reply, you just lean back against the rock and turn your attention to the landscape. Your brows remain furrowed, arms loosely crossed, enjoying the sound of the waves lapping against the shore, the moonlight only just providing enough light as you're far enough from camp.  A few minutes pass and Micah turns his attention back to you. "Why're you still here?" he bluntly asks.  "I ain't sure, I'm going to bed," you shrug. You begin to stand, barely getting off your ass when Micah reaches out and grabs you by the waist, pulling you back down onto his lap with a slight thud. "What do you want?" you snap, picking his hands off your waist in disgust, making him laugh at the sight.  "Just wanted to spend some quality time with my favourite camp member," he replies, though you're unsure if he's being sarcastic. "Well, you ain't my favourite," you huff.  "Always so feisty towards me, ain'tcha? What's wrong? You still hate me even after you let me fuck you?" Micah questions with a throaty laugh, grinning from ear to ear.  "I hate you even more now," you tell him, shuffling about on his lap until you're straddling him, one leg on either side of his hips, your chests almost touching.  "That'd explain why you've just got comfortable on my lap rather than walking away," Micah chuckles again, knowing he's damn well in the right. He slips his hat off his head, placing it on the ground beside him, not wanting it to get in the way. You let out a sigh as you roll your eyes. "Ain't I allowed to just take some attention from you, Micah?" you question, batting your lashes and removing the frown from your face.  "You're allowed to take whatever you want from me, s'long as I get something in return," Micah tells you as he wraps his arms loosely around your waist. "So it's agreed? That we'll just... enjoy this pity sex? But only because it lets off some steam," you place the offer down, finally trying to decide on this agreement.  "It is agreed, sweetheart. You can call it pity sex or whatever else you want, but maybe I'll just fuck you so good that you'll end up likin' me?" Micah chuckles, pulling you onto his lap more as he speaks to you in a husk tone. "I ain't your sweetheart and I ain't ever gonna like you, Micah Bell," you spit. "Sure you ain't," he grins. So, this is what it's come to. You're sleeping with the enemy, pity fucking the man you hate the most, allowing him to pry into your private life and between your legs just for a little bit of satisfaction. Do you care? No. Should you care? Probably. But you're getting pleasure, finally, after waiting for so long. The gang is always on the move, running from the law and whoever else is chasing you, depending on where you are and who you've pissed off. You've flirted with other gang members before but it's never escalated anywhere, so if sleeping with Micah means you'll finally stop humping your pillow every night then why not?  And maybe you can fuck some sense into him, maybe a bit of kindness of basic respect? You doubt it, but it'd be nice. A life where Micah isn't chaotic would be perfect, or one where he entirely didn't exist. But this is the way the world currently is, so you'll just have to make do with what you've got.  You're still going to bark back at him whenever he kicks up a fuss in camp. If anything, you're eager to put him in his place. Maybe you can punish him every time he steps out of line? Maybe this... enemies with benefits, or whatever you want to call it, could whip Micah into shape and prevent him from being such an annoyance towards everyone. Probably not, but you can still hope.  Micah tightens his grip around your waist as he lets out a pleasing hum, tugging you down to his level so he can kiss you. You're reluctant as his moustache was so irritating last time, but to your surprise, Micah has trimmed it to prevent the irritation, his 'stache brushing against your upper lip rather than prickling it. Micahs kisses are a lot more tender this time, not covered in blood and heavy breathing, not battling for dominance whilst both your minds are hazy from all that choking. Micah moves one hand up to entangle his fingers in your hair, cupping the back of your head.  Your lips soon slide open, your tongue greeting Micahs. He bites your bottom lip softly, letting the skin slowly slip from his grasp before kissing you again, earning himself a soft moan as you shuffle onto his lap more. Things are slowly turning heated, Micahs kisses getting sloppier yet firmer by the second, drawing more moans and whimpers from your lips as he continues to make out with you.  You pray that nobody has woken up, not wanting them to see... this. How would you attempt to explain this? Could you say you tripped and fell into Micah after not seeing him sat there, and you'd just accidentally kissed him on the way down? Could you say this way a new way of fighting, to show him what he's missing out on if he'd just be a good boy? Yeah, those excuses are rubbish. But you're sure you'd hear anyone approaching, not unless they're stealthy.  Micah moves his hands to your chest, unbuttoning your shirt, stopping at your lower ribs. He breaks the kiss so he can pull your shirt open, cupping each of your breasts and leaning his head into them. His mouth latches onto one of your nipples, sucking at it surprisingly gently, flicking his tongue over the nub, tenderly kissing it. His hand massages them, kneading them softly. Micah moves onto your other nipple, repeating the process, sucking on your tits as he lets out a satisfying hum.  "I ain't sure what my favourite part of you is, these things, or that nasty bite of yours," Micah says with a soft laugh between kisses. "Oh, you have such a way with words," you roll your eyes. "You know, I think we'd get along much better if you'd just tease me with these things in camp," Micah replies, returning his focus to your breasts. "I'll remember that in the future," you say, making a mental note. Maybe you could find a way to manipulate him? Using your womanly charm to tame this beast? It's a push but it's worth a try. He continues to suck at them, making your arousal grow, and you know he's getting aroused as you can feel it pressed against your thigh. Micah moves off your breasts and gently pulls your head down, enjoying another kiss, still tender, not the style you expected a man such as Micah to have.  Micah breaks the kiss, urging you off him. "Now, come on. Before I start thinkin' with my dick and fuck you right in the middle of camp. But you'd like that, wouldn't you, you whore?" he questions, buttoning up your shirt for you.  "You admit to thinking with your dick, yet I'm the whore?" you smirk, pointing out the flaw to his logic.  "Real smart, ain'tcha girl?" Micah mocks, shooing you off his lap once your shirt is fastened. Micah stands first, pulling you up afterward. His hand lingers for a little too long in yours, though you don't move your hand away either. He begins walking with you back to camp, readjusting his hat as he walks. Micah dips before you approach camp, not wanting to risk anybody latching onto your agreement. Thankfully, nobody is awake, but you head straight to your tent anyway. You fasten the tent flaps behind you, lighting your lantern, and begin getting ready for bed. You notice the tailor box on your cot and open it up, revealing the replacement underwear, as well as the 'little something extra' that Micah had promised you. It's a full set of lingerie, an expensive-looking set too, a frilly white chemise, corset, and stockings. The chemise is definitely that short for a reason; you wonder what Micah's planning, though he did say that he wanted to cut it off you. You hope to at least get some use out of it before he does that.

[scarfacemarston]

Found all camp dialog part 4

Since Tumblr is messing with my tags, I’ll have to post this in parts. Hopefully some of you will see this. I have found every camp conversation from both the main game and the epilogue. I can take requests HOWEVER just because I have found them does not mean I can post them because: A. I can’t access the file to download or can’t find it. They are not labeled so I’m manually finding these.

B. My audio tech can’t convert it or I don’t have room in the computer.

C. The audio file is too long D. I think the conversation will be flagged by tumblr or may be triggering. E. I run out of free time to do this or I don’t want to post a certain one. (Like certain Bill files.)  I’m in graduate school, I work full time and I take care family so sometimes I’m not able  to pop in for a while.

Individual files  are either greetings, “how are yous”, combat or horse riding commands, being hungry, comments on Arthur’s hair/clothes and a few others., but I have found some unique ones. Please realize these are near impossible to find a certain one.

Micah has a shit ton. His are really hard to guess which conversation because the preview I have is usually just a snippet and it’s his weird ass loud breathing. I strongly reserve the right not to post his conversations if I think it could cause me to be flagged.

Mary-Beth - she has approximately 8ish. Maybe more but her conversations are very long. Karen is also usually involved in them, but she has more like 15. Tilly seems to have about eight as well.

Sean- he has a ton! Apparently he doesn’t leave camp often. I’ve already posted some of his.  Hosea has a lot - but like Micah - I can’t decipher his conversations easily because of the coughing so it’s guess work.  His conversations are the longest by far so I reserve the right to sadly not post them.

Mr. Pearson has about 8ish. Miss Grimshaw has about 15. Again, some of these are hidden in other character conversations. Swanson has about 12.Strauss has one of the least at about 5. (from what I see.)

If you request though, please write a polite request instead of “Do this”. I’m a person. Please also reblog if you can. It takes me 30+ minutes to find and loop together the files. A huge bonus that isn’t required is if you send a friendly anon if you want to say hi,  ask questions or rp /ask rp questions about my Oc or Abigail. Again, not required by any means at all, but I like to talk.

[flamehairedwritings]

The Fire In Your Eyes: Chapter Twenty Eight

Characters: Arthur Morgan x Original Female Character

Rating: The whole series will be E, 18+ ONLY for violence, gore, character deaths, animal deaths, parent deaths, swearing, grief, sexual themes and unprotected sex, mentions of miscarriage, hanging.

Summary: Saved by Arthur Morgan when her town is attacked, a young woman’s past comes back to haunt her when she has no choice but to join the Van der Linde Gang.

Some scenes and dialogue have been taken from the game!

Read on AO3

The Fire In Your Eyes Masterlist

Please don’t copy, steal or re-post my work; credit does not count.

—

Absolution

“You’re a God damn idiot.”

Clenching her jaw, Ada raised her eyes to the woman whose life she was trying to save.

“Excuse me?”

Shaking her head, Sadie raised her eyebrows, practically wheezing out her breaths. “You’re an idiot. You’re not gonna go with ‘em? Gonna stay here with the sick and dyin’?”

“You’re not dying,” Ada muttered, the words cutting at her again as she pressed the scarf hard against the wound.

Sadie hissed out a sound that was a jumble of a curse and a prayer, having to take a few breaths before she spoke again. “Well, I’m gonna go.”

Christ, she’s even more stubborn than Millie.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yeah, I am. Was gunna go even if you hadn’t’ve stayed. Just thought it’d get y’all off my back if I agreed with ya.”

The hand Sadie pushed her away with was gentle, but she also used the grip to help herself up, inhaling a sharp breath. Ada’s mouth dropped open as she looked at her, releasing an exasperated breath. Meeting Charles’s gaze incredulously, she raised her eyebrows.

“Charles, please help me here.”

The wounded man, leaning against a rock and sat in the snow, just shrugged his good shoulder as he shook his head. “You know we can’t stop her.”

She looked to Sadie again and found her smiling faintly as she reloaded her guns.

He was right and Ada hated it.

Licking her lips, she released another breath, this one resigned. “Fine, all right. But please just let me tie this around you.”

“Fine.” Sadie raised her arms to give Ada space as she rose up on her knees, winding the scarf around her torso and tying it tightly.

Once she was satisfied, Ada stood, wiping the blood from her gloves onto her coat. She hoped Abigail wouldn’t mind too much, all things considered, and, well, if she even survived. Glancing at Sadie, she didn’t know how the other woman was still standing. She was leaning against the rock, but the determination and fury she could see on her features must have been what was keeping her going. Ada wished she felt even a small drop of that. She still just felt nothing. Even when she’d watched Arthur and John go ahead, no emotion had overwhelmed her, no fear, no anxiousness. She knew she was pushing it all away, that at some point she’d break, if she didn’t die.

She hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that, too, as they’d made the journey to the mountain and up it.

I could die at any moment.

The thought of something so final, so shattering to those that she loved, happening just... it was just a possibility. Not something that she would endeavour to avoid, just... something that might happen. And she didn’t know why. Numbness just overwhelmed her.

“You comin’?”

Sadie’s voice brought her back to the mountain, her eyes darting up to her. Her friend’s eyebrows were raised but concern was starting to seep into her gaze. Ada didn’t want to see it. Nodding, she cleared her throat as she looked to the path ahead.

“Yeah. Sounds like they’re making their way through.”

Shots echoed up from wherever the men were, a small comfort to them.

“That it does. Charles?”

Ada turned just in time to see Charles nod as he got to his feet with a jagged breath. “Yeah, I’m comin’. Don’t know what good I’ll do, though.”

“Just watch our backs,” Sadie said with a small smile, gun gripped firmly in one hand. “Now let’s go.”

They came across the three dead men in the snow, uncomfortably close to where they’d been, and moved over them, Charles hanging back for a couple of moments to take what ammunition he could find. Bodies littered the way as they followed John and Arthur’s boot prints in the snow, crimson blood staining the white, though they were still cautious, glancing up at the cliffs every few moments; Ada wouldn’t put it past any of Micah’s men to be lurking around, waiting. They could still hear the faint sound of gunshots, too, though they were growing closer.

Sadie stumbled, her boot falling further than she thought it was going to in the snow, and she cursed as the movement pulled at her side. She waved Ada off, however, as she approached to help. “I’m fine, I’m fine...”

They continued on, making their way through a narrow pass, and from the sounds of the shooting, Ada knew they had to be close now—

An explosion erupted, making the mountain shake.

“Fuck...” Ada gasped as she leaned against the rock, gripping onto it.

Sadie and Charles were doing the same, desperately hoping no fragments would break off and rain down on them. It held, though, and as the land settled, they glanced at one another.

They quickened their pace. Sadie moved surprisingly quickly ahead of her, but Ada hated the sound of her breaths, laboured and pained.

She hated more that the mountain was now quiet. They couldn’t be dead. They wouldn’t be dead.

They’ll be fine, they’ll be fine, they’ll be fine.

It wasn’t until, as they moved up a hill to an empty camp, they heard John’s voice that she felt herself take a proper breath, her shoulders dropping. He was calling for Micah, and as they came over the main peak of the camp and saw the watchtower, she saw the two men approaching it, alive and well, John continuing to call out.

“Ada.”

Tearing her gaze away, she looked to Sadie who was pointing to something in front of her. Following the direction, she found a sniper rifle propped against a crate. Shouldering her Repeater, she grabbed it, swiftly checking the condition and if it needed reloading.

“All right, good,” she murmured once she was satisfied, licking her lips and glancing up at Sadie. “You two stay...”

She trailed off at finding Sadie’s and Charles’s backs to her, their bodies rigid. Moving closer, her heart stuttering, she followed their staring gaze down towards the watchtower, and saw him.

Micah Bell stood before a firepit, arms lifted as he spoke though they were unable to hear his words.

“Oh, God,” Ada breathed, her grip tightening on the rifle. “He’s really here.”

“Yeah, he is,” Sadie murmured, a bite to her tone. “And he’s all alone.”

Ada’s gaze darted about the small camp down below and oh my God, he is.

She could feel a strange excitement starting to radiate off of Sadie as she shifted her stance.

“We could take ‘im alive,” she murmured to them, nodding. “We could take ‘im alive and let people see ‘im swing for his crimes. Get us all a decent reward, too.”

Ada glanced at Charles, who although he looked like he very much needed to sit down seemed to still be alert as he met her gaze, and she realised they could. They had the advantage here; it was five against one, no matter the state two of them were in, and there was no way Micah wouldn’t have sent his men out to face Arthur and John before he did... they could see him brought to justice and so could many others.

Nodding slowly, Ada licked her lips again. “Yeah. Okay. Yeah, I have an idea.” Turning to them, she held the rifle out. “You two stay here and keep an eye out with this, I’ll go down and—”

“Nah, lady, I’m goin’,” Sadie cut in, one side of her mouth lifting. “You’re stayin’ up here and keepin’ us safe.”

“Sadie, you can’t—”

“You got the steadiest hands here, Ada.”

Ada opened her mouth, then closed it as her gaze darted down to theirs. She wasn’t wrong there. Sadie’s were shaking slightly and Charles could barely hold his own gun now.

“Right, fine, I—”

Gunshots suddenly broke out down below and they flinched, their eyes darting to the men. They were firing at one another, John and Arthur taking for cover as Micah moved backwards, firing relentlessly at them.

“Shit...” Sadie hissed as their eyes fixed on their friends. “Ada, we don’t got time to argue about this, I’m goin’ down there now so you watch our backs, all right?” She continued even before Ada nodded, “If you need to take a shot and kill ‘im, do it, but we can take ‘im alive.”

“Okay, please be careful.”

“Oh, I will.”

Ada and Charles watched her duck low and move swiftly down the hill towards them, heading to the edge of the cliff. Gritting her teeth, Ada lowered to the snow, settling on her stomach, and aimed the rifle, peering through the scope at Micah.

Exhaling a long, slow breath, she settled her finger over the trigger.

—

Arthur’s heart, which he thought had stopped moments ago, was now racing.

Dutch was here. Alive. And with Micah.

He hadn’t changed, except for now having a full beard, and he, too, had a thick coat on. The large rings Arthur could have drawn from memory were still adorning his fingers, and his guns, one pointed at him and John, the other at Sadie, were the ones he had always had and prized. Arthur didn’t know to say, what the hell to do, but he didn’t have the chance to think anyway.

It happened so fast.

Micah spun, knocking Sadie’s arm aside and grabbing her. They grunted as they wrestled with one another, but Arthur would have been ashamed to have admitted later, if he’d had the chance, that he hadn’t been able to tear his gaze away from Dutch to see how she was doing. He felt John beside him, tense and hissing out curses as he watched, but Arthur just looked at Dutch, and Dutch looked at him.

The older man must have heard Micah greet them, must have had a few, private minutes as they’d shot at one another to process that he alive, so Arthur hated that his own feelings must have been playing out on his features now for all the world to see. His lips were parted, his eyes were wider and his gun wasn’t even raised. 

Dutch’s own features were expressionless.

Arthur had convinced himself, about a year or so ago, maybe even before, when Millie had been born, in a moment of pure happiness and contentment, that he’d forgiven Dutch, that, yes, he’d fucked everything, not handled it well at all, but he’d been doing what he’d thought was best for everyone around him.

Time had a fucking awful way of softening memories.

He saw now, despite everything that had happened, he’d still been trying to justify Dutch’s actions, to give him the benefit of the doubt... yet here he was, with Micah the rat still, and pointing a gun at him.

Dutch was the first to look away when Sadie released a yell through gritted teeth as Micah hauled her up from the snow where they’d been grappling and held her tight against him, his gun pointed at her head.

John was aiming his own gun at them, furious energy crackling through him as he just about managed to stop himself from lunging forward.

Micah knew this, a smile pulling at his lips as he gestured his gun at them. “Now, boys... Now... What were you sayin’?”

John swallowed hard, not knowing what the hell to do. Glancing briefly at Arthur, he found the other man frozen still, his fucking gun not even pointed at either of them, and not saying a damn word, just staring at Dutch. Looking himself towards the older man, John jerked his chin at him.

“What the hell are you doin’ here, Dutch?”

He just had one gun raised now, at him and Arthur. “Same as you, I suppose.”

He sounded so... unlike Dutch. Weary, John would have even said, like none of this mattered.

Micah, on the other hand, was drinking in every single moment. “Dutch and I are teamin’ up once more... We got money... We got dreams...” Glancing at Dutch, his gaze returned to John, his smile widening. “... Join us, boys... Join us.”

Arthur still wasn’t saying a fucking thing and John’s heart was pounding against his ribcage. He was aiming at Micah, the man’s arm still tight around Sadie, but he didn’t trust that Dutch wouldn’t fire at any moment and just kill him, end what he’d tried to let happen in those last few days. Licking his cracked lips, he exhaled a short breath.

What the hell was he supposed to do?

— 

Ada could hear her own breathing as she stared through the sniper-scope, her blood running cold, body frozen, and it wasn’t because she was lying in the snow.

“Is that...” Charles breathed beside her, “... What the hell is Dutch doing here?”

“I don’t know...” she heard herself whisper, “... I don’t know... I don’t know...”

This changed everything.

The fact he was still with Micah, after everything... She’d watched him walk away from Micah on that mountain, that was the one thing he’d done right in those last few days, the one thing that had given him a shred of redemption in her eyes over the years, yet here he fucking was... and he was aiming at Arthur.

She looked at her husband, saw how rigid he was and knew it wasn’t from the cold. There had been some dark days after the mountain, when he’d been recovering both physically and mentally. Days when he’d convinced himself he could have saved Dutch, that it had been his fault for not noticing the change in him sooner and the terrible things it had led to. She’d had to hold him, tears in her eyes and on his cheeks, and tell him over and over that he’d done all he could and it wasn’t his fault. It had taken some time, years, even, but on a quiet night soon after Millie was born, as they sat on their porch watching the sun set, he’d told her he'd forgiven Dutch. She hadn’t understood why or how he could, but she saw how at peace he was then at having done so, how relieved he was... and now that had been completely undone.

She didn’t think it was possible, but she’d never hated Dutch van der Linde more than she did right now.

Charles’s jagged gasp tore her from her thoughts and she watched as Micah drove Sadie into the snow, trying to wrestle the gun out of her hand. 

Lifting her head suddenly, Ada shoved the sniper rifle towards Charles, her heart racing.

“Stay here,” she murmured as she pushed herself up, “Don’t hesitate to pull the trigger.”

—

He wished he was just a few inches closer to Arthur so he could elbow him out of whatever had overtaken him without it being obvious. If he’d had time to think about it, he would have thought Arthur would have been enraged at the sight of Dutch, would have been demanding to know what the hell was going on, would have at least been aiming his gun at him, finger on the trigger.

But no, his brother was still silent.

Adjusting his grip on his gun, John kept it fixed on Micah. “Let her go.”

Sadie was staring at the ground, and probably wouldn’t have been upright if it hadn’t been for Micah’s grip, and the man just continued to smile.

“Now, I can’t do that, John.”

John could feel himself growing desperate and that was the last thing he wanted to show right now. “Dutch... Dutch, c’mon now!”

Dutch gazed at him, still expressionless. “You shot at me, son.”

“You shot at us first.”

All their eyes darted to Arthur as he finally spoke, his jaw clenched, voice tight.

Here was the anger now, and it seemed it had instantly provoked it in Dutch, too, his words bursting out of him.

“You betrayed me!”

“I could say the same thing. You left John for dead, me for dead. Didn’t even look back, after all them years.” Arthur’s tone was as cold as the silent air around them, though his gun remained by his side.

Dutch pressed his lips together, taking a few moments before he spoke. “I was tryin’ to do my best... you... you just cared for yourselves.”

“I think differently. All I ever did was care about you. I gave you my life, twenty years of it. Nearly died tryin’ to save you from this rat, yet here you are.”

The two men gazed at one another, silent as Arthur’s words lingered between them. It was Micah who broke the quiet.

“Join us, boys, c’mon... It doesn’t have to be like this...”

His arm was slightly higher around Sadie now, practically choking her, and she released a stuttered groan, trying to pull at it.

“Let her go!” John demanded, trying so hard to not take a step forward. “She ain’t well!”

“Do as he says.”

Micah’s barked laugh died on his tongue, and John felt relief wash over him as Ada appeared a short distance from his side, her Repeater raised.

Her gaze darted from the blond man to Dutch, and she saw nothing cross his features as he stared at her. 

And then a muscle in his jaw twitched and he raised his other gun to her.

“You—”

Arthur’s revolver ‘clicked’ as he aimed it at Dutch, the older man stilling instantly as his gaze shifted from the gun to him.

“I see,” he murmured.

“Yeah,” was all Arthur said, gaze fixed on him.

Micah’s laugh returned, long and exuberant. “Ooh, well, well, well, if it ain’t her majesty herself, still alive and kickin’!”

“Let her go.” Ada ignored him, echoing John’s words.

He sighed, grinning. “C’mon, now, I don’t wanna kill any of ya when we’ve just reunited. Join us! You can come, too, Miss Prissy Missy! If you’re good...” He tilted his head, leaning it against Sadie’s, the blonde woman gritting her teeth as she snarled. “Or are we just gonna stand around glarin’ at each other?”

“Dutch...” John’s voice silenced them all, even Micah falling quiet. He shook his head slightly as the older man met his gaze. “... Dutch, we all did our best for you. Ain’t our fault things turned out the way they did.”

He was silent.

“Killin’ us won’t solve anythin’, Dutch,” Arthur murmured, pulling Dutch’s gaze back to him. “John’s right, we did our best, and... Well, we came here for Micah, not you.”

Micah chuckled lowly, holding Ada’s gaze as he tightened his arm around Sadie. Ada grit her teeth, her finger hovering over the trigger.

Dutch looked between his two former gang members, former sons. It felt like a lifetime before he spoke.

“Do you remember the last time we were up in the mountains, all of us together... How long ago that was...”

John shifted slightly, unease weighing heavily on him like a rock. What was the point in this?

Arthur shifted, too, resting his weight on one foot as he nodded slowly. “Yeah, long time ago. Lot of things have changed since then, though, huh. Now John and I, we got families. He’s got Abigail and Jack, and Ada and I... we got a kid of our own, Dutch, and we wanna get home to her.”

Dutch gazed at him.

Micah barked out a laugh, raising his eyebrows at Ada. “You let cowpoke over there reproduce? Hell, the Lord save us all. What’s her name? Oh, go on, tell me,” he prompted at her silence.

Ada felt her lip curl as she stared at him, not knowing how she wasn’t pulling the trigger. 

"Amelia.” Arthur answered Micah, though his eyes remained on Dutch. “We call her Millie.”

Dutch still didn’t say a word.

“Ooh, well, congratulations on little Millie. Can’t wait to be introduced...” 

Micah laughed as Ada tried to take a step towards him, but John had swiftly reached out and grabbed her arm, keeping her in place.

"You fucking son of a bitch...” she hissed, her grip so tight on the Repeater her hands were almost shaking.

“You there when he killed that little girl, Dutch?” Arthur asked quietly, like it was just the two of them on that mountain.

Silence.

Ada and Micah weren’t looking away from one another, and Sadie was staring at her, too, wheezing out her breaths. John had released Ada’s arm but kept his hand slightly raised, just in case she went to lunge again, though he had half a mind to not stop her, while his other hand kept his gun trained on Micah, too. Arthur was still to the other side of him, so still... and Dutch... Dutch was silent still.

It enraged John, how passive he was, how unfeeling, and that he was here with Micah. He just couldn’t believe it. After all these years, after what Arthur and Ada had told him happened on that mountain...

“Say somethin’, Dutch!” he snapped suddenly, tired of the older man just standing there, like he hadn’t chosen this. “Say somethin’!”

Dutch glanced at him. “I ain’t got too much to say no more...”

They barely had time to take a breath.

Raising his other hand, Dutch aimed the gun held in it at Micah and fired.

The bullet tore through his torso as Sadie lunged out of his grip, falling to her knees. They should have gone to help her, but Ada, who had inhaled a sharp breath, and John and Arthur were frozen in their positions, eyes wide, lips parted.

Yet no one was more shocked than Micah. He stared at Dutch, watching the man holster his guns as he swayed slightly. Touching his gloved fingers against the hole in his chest, as if he couldn’t believe it was real, he marvelled, “You shot me.”

Then, he laughed, the sound horrible and low. Sucking in a breath, he nodded, teeth dragging over his lower lip.

“You shot me pretty good.”

His head rolled to the side, his eyes fixing on her, and Ada knew it was going to happen. Micah swiftly raised both of his beloved guns and aimed them at her and John. She didn’t hesitate. He was fast, but she and John were faster.

The sound of their bullets echoed across the snow, and not one of them was Micah’s. They buried into him and a spluttered, stunned groan slipped from his lips. He suddenly pressed them together tightly, confining strange sounds to the back of his throat as his arms dropped to his sides, his guns clattering on the rocky ground as they fell from his grasp. He gazed at them and his body turned a few moments later in a strange, jerking motion. His back to them, he took a few steps forward as he nodded again, raising his hands slightly, questioningly, and then his legs gave out. Collapsing forwards, Micah Bell died a second before he hit the ground.

Swallowing hard, it was several moments before Ada lowered her gun, her hands shaking.

She couldn’t believe it... she just...

“Thank you...” John said suddenly, stumbling over his words, no one else knowing what to say, the gesture awkward, but... Dutch had saved them. “I... I, uh...”

Her eyes darted to Dutch, who was gazing at John, then to the two men. They looked so utterly lost. They were boys again, for the briefest of moments, looking to their leader, father and friend in where to go from here. Arthur’s gun was by his side, as was John’s, and neither of them knew what to say. Was there anything to say?

Dutch didn’t seem to think so.

As John tried to find words, Dutch started to walk. When he passed the men, something akin to... disappointment shrouded his features, or maybe even faint contempt, anger. Or all three.

“Dutch.”

The older man paused at Arthur’s voice while John holstered his gun and hurried over to Sadie who was trying to get on her feet with a grunt. As Dutch turned to him, Arthur held the gaze of the man he’d have once died for, weariness overtaking him.

“We’re doin’ you a mercy here.”

Dutch didn’t react to the gentle warning, and for a few moments Arthur thought he wasn’t going to reply. 

“Maybe it is I who is doing the mercy.”

The warning had been reciprocated.

He turned away again as Arthur wet his dry lips, his heart pounding. He watched the man continue on, not looking back once.

Ada watched him, too, stepping to the side slightly so he could pass her. He paused before her, though, his eyes meeting hers. She didn’t look away and didn’t react, even though she had no idea what he was searching her gaze for. She didn’t know what possessed her to say it, either, as the silence went on. Perhaps it was the manners her mother had drummed into her.

Licking her lips, she cleared her throat. “I hope you can find happiness.”

She could have yelled at him, could have demanded justice for the death of her father but... what good would it have done? What would have been the point? Dutch was leaving without a fight, and he’d done them a favour. It would almost have been cruel to challenge him then, to execute him. She’d come to terms with the events of her life anyway, and killing this man wouldn’t bring her father back. Part of her told her she was just trying to be superior.

He gazed at her, mouth in a thin line, and she thought she saw a shine to his eyes.

She thought it was regret.

It was too late when she saw the rage that flooded his features.

Dutch lunged. 

He drew one of his guns in the same moment that he reached out and gripped the front of her coat, yanking her forward against him as yells erupted behind him. Her eyes were wide as she gasped, the Repeater falling from her hand, and she couldn’t look away from his furious gaze as he pressed the barrel of the gun against her chest.

A gunshot rang out and she flinched with a sharp gasp.

Dutch stared down at her, face inches from hers, exhaling short, harsh breaths. Tears slipped from his eyes as he blinked.

And then he choked as blood trickled out of the corners of his mouth.

He used his grip on her to steady himself now as he turned his head to look behind him, a quiet, strained sound coming from the back of his throat. 

Arthur didn’t move, his gun still raised, his breaths, visible in the cold air, coming slow and long.

Dutch released another strange sound, and his legs gave out. His gun fell from his hand as he dropped down to his knees, and he now gripped at the bottom of Ada’s coat. Wheezing his exhaled breaths, his other hand went to the hole in his stomach, as if, like Micah, he couldn’t quite believe it was real yet. He made another faint sound at feeling it. His hand resting over it, he gazed at the white snow behind her, his breathing jagged. His eyes moved after a few moments, trailing their way up towards the sky. A bird flew across the grey vastness of it, and when he blinked again, following it, tears dripped down his cheeks. The sun was trying to break through the thick clouds, a few shafts of light illuminating the dark feathers of the bird, before they were gone, vanishing as soon as they had come. His hand slid from her coat as he grunted, his body hunching over slightly, and his eyes fell shut. 

It was another moment or so before Dutch van der Linde collapsed onto the snow, dead.

Arthur stared at the body, finally lowering his gun. He exhaled a shaking breath, his shoulders dropping. Glancing at John, he found the younger man looking at him as he held Sadie up, eyes wide, but not shocked or saddened. He just nodded, and Arthur returned it, relieved beyond words that the guilt he had expected wasn’t coming. He returned his gaze to Dutch’s body, and he felt like he could breathe properly for the first time in a very, very long time.

It was Ada’s heaving sob that finally made them all tear their eyes away from the body.

Tears ran down her flushed cheeks as another sob escaped her, her hand pressed against her left side, just above her hip.

Blood was spilling through her fingers.

“Oh, shit...” he heard Sadie gasp.

Arthur felt like a knife had pierced his heart as he swiftly holstered his gun and strode towards her. “Ada... Awh, shit, oh, sweetheart...”

Reaching her, one hand gripped her shoulder as the other pulled hers away from her side, and he froze, staring at the wound that was bleeding profusely. Pressing both their hands firmly over it, his eyes darted up to meet hers, his chest twisting unbearably.

She was crying so hard she was barely able to take a breath but she was mumbling over and over in between her sobs something he couldn’t make out.

“What’s that, sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“Fuck, shit, here, take this...”

He watched her try to take a breath as John suddenly appeared at his side, holding out a strip of material he must have torn from his shirt. Arthur took it with blood stained fingers and nudged her hand away before pressing it over the wound. 

She hissed as her features crumbled, and managed to take in enough of a breath to say clearly, “... it’s over, it’s over... it’s over...”

Her gaze dropped to Dutch’s body beside her as she sobbed, every feeling she’d suppressed in the last several hours overwhelming her.

It was over, it was truly, truly all over.

Arthur’s hand went from her shoulder to her cheek, cupping it and stroking it gently with his thumb as he tried to meet her gaze. “Yeah, they’re both dead, sweetheart, it’s okay...” He swallowed hard as he felt the blood against his fingers. “... Oh, my darlin’, shit, I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t mean for you to get hurt, I thought with the angle you were at— Woah, hey, hey...”

Her legs had buckled and he caught her. Murmuring low, soft words, he swept her up into his arms, holding her against him.

The motion had pained her, he had seen it, and she gazed up at him, tears falling thick and fast down her cheeks. He swallowed again, having to blink to clear his vision.

“I’m so sorry, Ada, you’re gonna be okay, though, all righ’? We’re gonna get you some help.”

Her lower lip was trembling. “I’m fine... It hurts but...”

“All righ’, okay, we gotta get you to a doctor, though, all righ’? You, Sadie and Charles, okay?”

She nodded, one hand gripping at his coat as the other pressed the strip of John’s shirt against the wound. “I’m fine...”

He knew she was lying.

“Money...”

Blinking again, the voice almost startling him, he looked over at Sadie who was leaning against the wooden shack, looking so drained.

“What?”

She nodded at the watchtower, raising her eyebrows as she coughed. “Money from Blackwater should be in there...”

Arthur’s gaze darted to John’s before back to Sadie. “Really?”

She tilted her head, arching an eyebrow. “You think I’d say somethin’ like that if it weren’t true?”

Running his tongue along his teeth, Arthur exhaled a breath. “We gotta get off this mountain and find a doctor.”

Sadie chuckled, standing upright. “I ain’t leavin’ without it, we deserve somethin’, don’t we?”

Arthur glanced at John again, watching him already heading towards the tower. Adjusting his grip on Ada, he shook his head.

“You can do all the searchin’ you want, I’m gonna get back to the horses and you should be righ’ behind me.”

Sadie waved her hand, nodding. “Yeah, yeah, yeah, right behind ya.” Taking a breath, she looked to Ada before back at him. “She okay?”

He nodded as he turned, heading for the hill. “She’s gonna be fine.”

His heart was thumping against his ribcage. Strawberry was miles away and he wasn’t familiar enough with the land anymore to know what ranches were around and if they would have a doctor, so that just left—

“Arthur.”

He paused at Sadie’s voice and turned back to her, having to bite back a snapped retort as he raised his eyebrows.

Her lips were pressed together, the weariness having returned, and sympathy with it. “Closest town is Valentine.”

His jaw moved. “I know.”

He continued on up the hill, gritting his teeth as he pushed through the snow. Had enough time passed? Would they have forgotten about him and the gang? Would a new sheriff have taken over?

Truthfully, he didn’t fucking care.

Gazing down at his wife, his chest tightened as he found her eyes closed.

“Sweetheart...”

Mercifully, they opened at his voice, though not fully.

He managed a smile, his thumb stroking against her arm. “You keep those beautiful eyes open, okay?”

Her tongue drifted across her dry lips. “It’s so cold.”

“Yeah, you gave your scarf to Charles, you remember, to keep ‘im warm? Then I gave mine to Sadie to help her, and John doesn’t have one but he gave you some of his shirt. Looks like we’ve all been swappin’.”

 “You haven’t got anything.”

He smiled again, feeling his eyes sting. “Oh, I get to have you for a few more decades, all righ’? You gonna give me that?”

He thought he saw the faintest of smiles on her lips as she nodded.

“Well, you keep those eyes open, then.”

“Okay.”

Reaching the top of the hill, he found Charles sat on a crate, a rifle in his hands, staring at the snow. Lifting his head, he suddenly rose to his feet at the sight of them and was shaking his head before Arthur could open his mouth.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t find a safe shot, I tried to but I just couldn’t find it—”

“It’s okay, Charles, it’s all righ’.” He didn’t stop walking. “C’mon, we’re gonna get you both to a doctor.”

Charles followed by his side, gripping at his shoulder again. “Ada, are you okay?”

She hummed out a sound as her reply, and glancing down at her again Arthur found her eyes still open and fixed on the sky. Tears were trailing down her cheeks, and he knew she was trying to breathe steadily.

He hated the memory it dug up from the furthest corner of his mind.

Holding her tighter, he broke into a jog, fucking grateful that it was just downhill from here. Charles kept level with him, most likely grateful that it was just declines, too.

“Where are Sadie and John?”

“Back there. She said the money from Blackwater’s in the tower.”

“What?”

“I know.”

“How the hell did Micah and Dutch get it?”

“I don’t know.”

Charles fell silent, knowing his mind was elsewhere and there would be time for questions later... he hoped. His gaze dropped to Ada, watching her stare up at the sky. He had watched through the scope as Dutch had done the same, taking in his last few moments of life. He wanted to ask Arthur how he was feeling, if he himself was all right, but... questions later. 

They were silent the rest of the way down the mountain, barely glancing at the bodies they passed. Charles stumbled once or twice on the descent, but Arthur didn’t see, having taken the lead. Charles didn’t call out to him to slow down either, knowing he wouldn’t, and Charles didn’t want him to.

They found their horses grazing near the trees they’d left them at, their heads lifting instantly at the sound of them. Charles fumbled for something in his saddlebag as Arthur strode for Titan. Noka approached idly at scenting her mistress, but Arthur wanted to hold her as they rode because he didn’t trust that she’d stay upright. Even thinking that practical thought frightened him. Valentine was closer than Strawberry, but it was still quite a ride.

“There you go...” he murmured as he raised her in his arms, settling her on Titan as he gritted his teeth.

She gasped, her lips swiftly pressing together cutting it off.

The hand that had clutched his coat now gripped the pommel, her knuckles whitening, and he glanced up at her as he took Titan’s reins in one hand and prepared to mount and sit behind her.

His heart shattered.

She looked terrified.

—

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[champagnesuperhoeva]

Seasonal depression is on its way back, so why not analyze another scene from Red Dead Depression 2???????

I’ve been meaning to do another screeching ramble about one of Red Dead Redemption 2′s many incredible scenes, but just couldn’t put my finger on which one. So I threw a rock and hit the Saint Denis bank robbery, that’s the story

strap in, motherfuckers, it’s time to regret the concept of empathy

It is such a missed opportunity that we weren’t able to chaperone the girls as they went about putting on their various bullshit personas to gather reconnaissance. I want to see Tilly reading a newspaper with glasses, a fake nose and a mustache

Something Red Dead Redemption 2 spoiled me on is just how much ROI they squeeze into every last line of dialogue. Not a single word feels generic or hamfisted. Every sentence, every twitch and blink, adds up to a greater whole. The more I watch, the more I unearth. There are several AAA titles that frequently get painted with the ‘Good Dialogue’ brush like Uncharted that don’t hold a candle to Rockstar’s work here. 

Take Hosea grilling Dutch here, for example:

Dutch acquiescing to Hosea’s justified criticism is depressing in its hindsight. Sir Spam der Linde is an arrogant blowhard that could give Dr. Gregory House a run for his money...and yet he still mumbles and bows his head when being told he needs to get his shit together. Compare this to earlier in the game, when he was snipping at both Hosea and Arthur for all their doubts and questions. Double that for the camp interactions you can find where Dutch and Hosea argue about the Blackwater Heist. 

Is reality finally sinking in a little for our manic pixie dream man? Does he just have a hard time bullying Hosea, who’s around 5,000 years old and doesn’t give a fuck? For every answer you get, you get another question...and I fucking love it. This character -- and the series at large -- toes the razor-thin line between transparent portrayals and thicc layers of intrigue. This kind of carefully sewn subtlety is sorely lacking in not just videogames, but mainstream media in general. Sometimes I still can’t believe I got to experience this game.

This little scene is just one of many ingredients to make you wonder that, if the bank job had turned out all right...if Dutch really would’ve started changing for the better. 

Arthur clutching his belt buckle like he clutches my neck in my dreams

So the plan is made and the cowboys are off to Sand Penis, and I bet nobody in the history of the world has made that joke before

Just the build-up to the bank sends goosebumps up my arms. 

Even with apprehension in the back of your mind, it’s hard not to get sucked into the whirlwind of adrenaline here. You have each member playing their part, from Abigail as the helpless damsel to Charles and Bill as crowd control. Great back-and-forth dialogue as characters anticipate what’s about to happen (with some delicious doubting from John). It’s like a group project, except you don’t want to slap your partners!!!*

*except micah ‘I Haven’t Scrubbed My Nailbeds In Fifty-Three Years’ bell

Fun fact: if Dutch hadn’t said ‘one last time’, the bank robbery would’ve been a success. Should’ve browsed TVTropes.

The direction of this game remains impeccable. 

This is a simple shot of a few dudes riding their horse...and it’s made just that much grander by the camera angles, slung low to the ground to create a stronger sense of scale. With the tense drums in the backing track and the sudden quiet that’s befallen our beloved anti-heroes, this provides the perfect finishing touches to one of the most memorable and stressful parts of the game:

The runway.

We start off this display of cowboy couture with Dutch Fam Der Linde, well-known in the West for wearing crushed velvet while hiking the open trail. Dashingly long coattails make up the bulk of this iconic look, with a sexy pop of red to round it all out. A complimentary red bandana lined with a hint of gold brings out the buttons, chain and belt buckle. Very regal. Much fucky. Still want to slap him for future crimes, so 9/10

A surprising comeback from the man who invented skid marks. Lavender pinstripes add a splash of character on an otherwise minimalist black ensemble. Complimentary silver bow on the hat and dark bandana makes me uncomfortably wet, so 9.5/10, would leer again

A classic suit with just a touch of more. A wide velvet collar with matching velvet cuffs create a refined softness, contrasting the gold buttons and dramatic coattails. Shoes shiny. Skin moisturized. Even his everyday ponytail looks fancier than ever. 15/10, if Javier kicked over my sandcastle I’d thank him

What are those????????? I think Bill got pranked by Uncle while out shopping for robbery gear. That, or he confused one of Susan’s tablecloths for a three-piece. The topmost layer of dust is so thick it could be peeled off and donated to charity. 3/10, could probably still pass for a picnic table

Shameless. Unacceptable. Walking around like a bootleg Egoraptor with a crinkly suit that looks like that oil-stained pizza napkin you keep forgetting to toss. Why did I take a screencap that makes it look like Dutch is jacking him off. Micah’s even jutting his beer gut out in an ominous foreshadowing for the Guarma chapter. ThereIsn’tANumberLowEnough/10

Arthur strolling in with that slow, confident walk that gets me pregnant in both legs, someone please fetch the plan B

Dutch calls a Hosea an artist and is most certainly one himself. He speaks with the affect of a poet, even as he’s holding a pistol in people’s faces and making them shit themselves in slow-motion. This man redefines stage presence. Why would he want anything less than the best, when this is the final hurrah of his iconic, infamous career:

THE RUNWAY: PART TWO

Bill out here just confusing everyone’s laundry for low-level loot. 5/10, may or may not be susan’s granny panties

charles: “is my iron giant cosplay valid robbery wear”

dutch: “no, charles, iron giant cosplays are not valid robbery wear”

dutch: “gorons from legend of zelda aren’t valid either”

JAVIER IF I GIVE YOU A 10/10 WILL YOU LEAVE

Here’s a little detail I didn’t notice (even after several viewings of this scene): Charles over in the corner looking like a dweeb.

Notice how awkwardly he holds that rifle: two-handed and with his knees bent, suddenly looking like he’s never handled a weapon before. This is such an odd contrast from the unapologetic badass we know. Remember, this is the same man who can wield a sawed-off shotgun one-handed like it’s nothing. One of the most adept physical fighters in a gang full of cutthroat motherfuckers. 

This detail on top of his dorky robbery gear? It’s actually a peek into just how out of his element he is. 

Charles has been with the gang for less than a year at this point. Even then, he’s usually helping with tracking, hunting and scouting. Whenever he goes off with Arthur on a mission, he’s always the first to suggest a peaceful route. This is not someone who’s used to robbing people for a living and it shows in the most adorable way. What you see here is a man putting on a persona of what he hopes looks like a bloodthirsty robber.

This whole scene is a fucking blast. Herding the upper-class elite into the far rom, figuring out the combination key under codenames, listening to the banter of the squad in the background. It doesn’t help I’m a slut for baroque-styled architecture and half my attention was on the pastel decor. Yeah, yeah, I know we have three thousand dollars on the line, but look at that gold filigree

These outlaws move like a finely oiled machine, not a detail out of place...which makes the ensuing mess all the more tragic.

...and this post is getting too long, so I’m going to post the second part separately. Ain’t I a stinker?